#i tried to write this prompt because i want to get better at writing

[moonstruckme]

hi, my love! i hope you’re doing okay!

i’d be really interested to see the protectiveness of the marauders and how it plays out in a poly!marauders dynamic. say something happens to r (can be as minor or as severe as you prefer). how would each marauder react and how would their dynamics bounce off each other? would it make the situation better or worse?

I find it funny picturing r attempting to wrangle all three of her boys from throwing hands (especially if it was a mistake or a miscommunication between r and the “offender”) and they’re bouncing off each other and riling themselves up more and she’s just like, ffs I’m so sorry and tries her best to manhandle her three boyfriends away for a stern talking to. Like, thank you guys for protecting me and all that but a) t’was a mistake / miscommunication, and b) i can sort my own shit and will ask if i need back up (Sirius in the back like no need to ask, i’m ready to go bby). Everyone’s like wtf Remus?! because he’s usually the chill one and it’s just a cluserfuck of misplaced angst and fluffy humour.

this might overlap with some other requests you’ve written, so feel free to ignore or tweak as you see fit! no idea if this makes any sense but hope it’s fun to write if you decide to!

Hi lovely! I've done a couple fics with protective marauders before, so I wanted to try something a little different based on your prompt. I had a different vision in my head than how it turned out, but I hope you like it <3

cw: alcohol, sexual assault, violence

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

You’ve been known to be a…somewhat short-fused drunk. It’s not that you’ll get angry with anyone for anything, only that the sort of behavior that you might normally try to ignore, you…don’t. This is usually the behavior of men. 

It’s one of those nights where the club is made up of about forty percent young girls and sixty percent older, eagle-eyed men. You’re glad for your boyfriends, who ward off the other men like a force field around you. You feel lucky to have it and disgusted to need it. 

James’ laughter is loud and bright as you spin him around after he does you. You echo it, pleased at having inspired such a sound. With his large, sturdy build, it’s rare for James to get very drunk, but he’s about where you are now. Which is to say, you’ve been sloppily dancing and giggling with each other for the last hour. 

Remus rolls his eyes fondly when James nearly spins himself out of balance, steadying him with a hand on his back. 

“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Sirius shouts. 

James laughs again, planting a wet kiss on his cheek. “Classy, babe.” 

“Bugger off.” Sirius shoves him playfully into Remus’ chest. 

You dance with them both for a minute longer before leaning in to shout, “Okay if I go get more drinks?” 

Remus eyes you both for a second, but nods. “Alright. I’ll come with you.” 

“No, stay.” You set a hand on his chest. “Don’t let Jamie dance alone. I’ll be right back, yeah?” 

You don’t give him a chance to respond as you head for the bar. It’s crowded, but you’re not about to worm between some middle-aged men to get to the front. You stand up on your toes and wait to catch the bartender’s eye. 

“What’s your name?” Suddenly there’s a warm body pressed up behind yours, hands on your hips. 

Your blood, already warmed by alcohol, turns hot in an instant. You step forward, too quick for the man behind you to follow. Turn to look him in the eyes. 

“Don’t touch me,” you say firmly. 

“Okay.” The man raises his eyebrows at you. He looks nearly old enough to be your father—certainly old enough to be someone’s father—with waxy skin and thinning hair combed over the front of his head. He’s in a suit like he came here from work. “Sorry, relax. I just think you’re beautiful.” 

“I’m here with someone.” Someones, you could say, but you’ve learned it’s easier in some situations to make it sound like you only have one partner, for brevity’s sake. And there’s nothing you desire more than for this interaction to be brief. 

He gives a little laugh. “Don’t take things so seriously, I’m only complimenting you. Do you like to dance?” 

You give him a hard look. “Only with my boyfriend.” 

“You look like you dance.” His eyes skim down your frame, raptorial. “I can tell. You have the body for it.” 

No sooner does his large, meaty hand connect with your ass than you’re grabbing it by the wrist, your free hand balling and aiming for his face. 

His surprised grunt comes in sync with a “Woah!” from behind you. 

You turn to find Remus and James, looking like they’ve just broken through the crowd. James is staring at you with wide eyes. One of the men near you at the bar sets a hand on your shoulder, pulling you away from the creep and forcing you to drop his wrist, but Remus is there in an instant. 

“Oi.” He grabs you, removing the man’s hand and caging you in his arms. “She’s fine.” 

“She hit him!” the man accuses. The guy from before is leaning forward with a hand pressed over his face. 

James is incredulous. “Did you see what he did to her?” 

The other man looks between you like he’s realized he’s missing something, and Remus takes a couple of steps back from the crowd with you in his arms. Meanwhile, your attacker seems to be recovering from his shock. He lowers his hand to reveal a discolored mark on his jaw, gaping at you. 

“You fucking cunt!” 

James gives him a hard shove, and more shouting starts up around the bar, various other patrons either cheering the fight on or trying to break it up. Remus grabs James by his shirt, tugging him along as he herds you towards the exit. “Alright, we’re going, we’re going.” 

Your journey out of the building is hurried and difficult to follow in your addled state, but everything seems to catch up to you when the dark club gives way to glaring fluorescent streetlights. You bend over under a wave of nausea. 

“Hey.” James sounds more sober than he had a few minutes ago. He stoops to look at you, your eyes wet. “You okay?” 

Remus says something to him quietly, passing James the car keys. He unwinds his arm from around you and kisses your head. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says gently. “Go wait in the car, okay?” 

“Okay…” Your voice is hardly a whimper. “Where are you going?” 

But Remus is already gone, waving down the bouncer outside of the club. 

You turn to James. “Where is he going?” 

Tears blink out of your eyes as you ask. The corners of James’ mouth turn down sympathetically. 

“Oh, my girl.” He wraps a big arm around your shoulders, kissing your head as he leads you towards the car. “What’s wrong? Does your hand hurt?” 

You shake your head, though it does a little. Your knuckles and the tops of your fingers feel odd and sore, and there’s a throbbing that goes all the way down to your wrist. That’s not what’s bothering you, though. You’re not sure if you can pick what’s bothering you. The predatory stares you’ve endured all night; the sickening realization of the man’s body pressed up against yours; his easy, blithe laughter; your own white-hot anger, there and gone before you could take account of yourself—it’s all too much. 

“I can’t believe I hit him,” you admit tearfully. 

James lets out a little laugh. “I saw, baby.” He unlocks the car, opening the back door. 

“I didn’t mean to.” 

“I—oh, okay.” James doesn’t stop you when you don’t get in, instead sitting on the floor of the car with your feet on the gravel parking lot. He sits beside you. “It’s okay if you did. He deserved it.” 

You put your head in your hands. “I don’t hit people.” 

He makes a soft sound. A big hand lands between your shoulder blades, rubbing softly. “I know you don’t, sweetheart. It’s…I get that you wouldn’t usually, but I think this counts as a special circumstance. Rem, he saw what was happening, but we couldn’t get to you fast enough. I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself, you know?” 

You don’t reply, and he lets you sit in silence for a while, your weeping gradually stopping. When Remus comes back, it’s with Sirius in tow. 

“What the fuck happened?” Sirius asks tipsily. “I was looking for you!” 

“Did Remus not tell you?” James sounds excited to be the one to share the news. 

“Alright, dove?” Remus asks at a more reasonable volume, crouching in front of you. “Does your hand hurt? Can I see?” 

“No, he’s being bloody tight-lipped.” Sirius ruffles Remus’ hair. “Just said you had to go. Oi, you alright, lovely?” 

“She punched a guy in the face,” James says proudly. 

“She what?” Sirius’ mouth pops open. You shrink some under his gaze. “Baby, you what?” 

“I didn’t mean to!” you insist, though it’s hard to stay miserable when two of your boyfriends look so obviously delighted. 

Sirius shakes his head, awestruck. “What did I miss?” 

James fills him in quickly while Remus prods at your hand, eventually commending you on a rather clean hit after he’s certain you didn’t break anything. Sirius can hardly keep his mouth shut while James talks, nor can James keep from using a series of vulgar names for the man who’d touched you, though he checks on you a couple of times to be sure his storytelling isn’t upsetting you. When he’s done, Sirius’ stare has darkened, his arms crossing as he leans against the side of the car. 

“Do we think he could perhaps use a matching bruise on the other side?” he muses, gaze flicking to the entrance of the club. “Maybe one of you could point him out to me.” 

“You’ll get to see him soon,” says Remus. You look at him questioningly, but he only gives you a small smile. Cryptic.

“Really, she’s already handled it rather well herself.” James slides his arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your head. “You should have seen it, I had no idea she could punch like that.” 

“Me neither,” you sigh. 

Just then, the door to the club bangs open. Two bouncers come out in their uniform black tees, hauling between them another man. 

“Alright, alright, leave off!” The creep from earlier struggles in their grasp. All three of your boyfriends tense. As he comes through the doorway, his discolored jaw catches the light. 

Sirius whistles. “Shit. That is bloody gorgeous.” 

You feel the beginnings of a smile tugging at your lips, but try to remain contrite. You catch Remus’ eye. 

“It was pretty impressive,” he says, also smiling. 

You chew your lip. “You don’t think it was wrong?” 

“What’s wrong about it?” Sirius asks. “He touched you, you touched him. I’d have done the same if I were there.” 

Remus rolls his eyes. “We know, love.” 

“I’m just saying, I could make it symmetrical…” 

“No,” Remus says sternly. He helps you up, ushering you into the backseat. “It’s time to go home.” 

James buckles in beside you while Remus gets into the driver’s seat. Sirius lingers outside the car. 

“He’s not gotten far yet, are we sure…” 

“Aw, baby, does your hand hurt?” James asks loudly. 

Sirius turns, crawling in to get a look. “Shit, did you bruise something? How’d you make a fist?” 

James reaches across him to shut the door, and Remus drives away.

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

Danny and Ellie are forced to flee Amity Park. And find themselves in Coast City.

I started writing this with the intention of only writing a short prompt, but then I just kept going until I felt like I’d written enough.

Danny gets caught up in yet another fight with Skulker, only this time it wasn’t because Skulker had come for Danny. No. He’d come for Ellie. And she was already weak from fleeing the GIW who had shot at her the moment she arrived in Amity Park.

Whether Skulker is after Ellie for Vlad, or because he wants her pelt can be up to you.

Either way, he manages to beat Skulker and captures him in the thermos. Just as he lets out a long sigh of relief he hears the sound of an ecto-gun being fired and then his side is burning and he’s falling. He’s falling too fast and it hurts and he can’t stop-

Danny guys the ground hard. His head is spinning, his skin feels like it’s burning, and he can hear the stomping of feet as someone runs towards him.

He needs to get up. He needs to get away. Find Ellie and make sure she’s safe. He’s needs to MOVE- but he can’t. Black spots for his vision as he manages to stand up and his eyes meet the end of his mother’s gun.

Before anyone can speak, he’s falling again, handing face first in the dirt. And the familiar feeling of de-transforming washes over him.

The last thing he hears before loosing consciousness is the grief stricken sound of his parent’s voice as three voices shout in unison.

“OH MY GOD DANNY!”

“DANNY ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“NO, GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

When Danny wakes up again, he’s in his room, the curtains are drawn but he can see the sliver of sunlight pouring in through the gap underneath. He notes that his body aches, but not as much as usual after a fight like that. And there’s a warmth enveloping his hand. It’s soothing, and he almost considers going back to sleep when he notices that there’s a ghost in the room. And all too fast he’s sitting up and staring into the exhausted, red, puffy eyes of his mother looking back at him from where she’s sitting holding his hand in hers.

Just behind her he sees Ellie floating just above the ground talking quietly with his dad.

“Danny,” his mother’s voice draws his attention along with Jack and Ellie’s. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Are you in any pain?”

He didn’t notice when she’d helped him to lay back down again. “Do you need anything? Ellie here was just telling us about how regular pain medication doesn’t work as well for the two of you. But I’m sure we could find something for you that might-”

“Mom,” Danny rasps. Man his throat was dry.

As if reading him mind Ellie appears by his mother’s side holding out a glass of water with a straw in it. Maddie helps Danny to sit up a little more so he can drink.

“Mom,” he tries again, sounding better this time, “I’m okay. I promise. It’s not that bad!” He starts to lie as the panic sets in. He de-transformed in front of them. He knows he did. And the fear shows on his face, it must, because before he can even begin trying to think up an excuse his mother is crying.

“Oh Danny, it’s okay. We know. And we’re not angry at you. We love you. So much.”

And Danny’s heart swells at hearing it. “You don’t hate me for being Phantom?” He asks quietly.

“No! We could never hate you Dann-o!” His dad’s cheery tone doesn’t disguise the sadness and guilt etched into his face. “We’re just…so sorry that we never noticed before. And that we…” he can’t finish his sentence but he doesn’t need to. Danny already knows what he’s apologise for.

“I’m okay. I promise. I heal fast!” Danny tied to reassure them.

It seems to help a little, though his parents still have a grim look in their eyes. As they make connections in just how Danny would know that about himself.

And Ellie, with perfect timing to cut the tension, announces happily, “Danny! Good news! Your parents said I could stay with you!”

Ellie had told his parents while Danny was unconscious about being his clone. She saw how they fretted over Danny, cleaning and dressing his injuries with the love and care she only imagined from a parent that truly loves you. And they had accepted her almost right away. Jack even crying as he proudly declared himself a father of three.

Jack soon excused himself, saying he’ll go see if Jazz needs any help with cooking lunch. Danny and his mother share a look, and with a final kiss to his head says she’ll go make sure nothing gets brought back to life. And she asks Ellie to please make sure Danny stays in bed and rests.

Danny and Ellie are left alone in his room, and it gives Danny the chance to really revel in everything. His parents accept him. They love him, both sides of him. And they accepted Ellie too! And said she can stay! She doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

Now, a lot can happen in the span of a few seconds, let alone minutes. In the time it took for Maddie to reach the kitchen, their front door was kicked down and a group of GIW agents had stormed in demanding they hand over the ectoplasmic scum they were harbouring.

Jack and Maddie drew their weapons and planted themselves directly in front of the GIW agents. The agents state that a ghost shield was put up around the house to prevent any ghosts from escaping, and by law any ghosts within the premises were ti be handed over for destruction immediately. Jazz runs upstairs to Danny’s room to warn them that the GIW were inside the house and that they needed to run. They need to get to the portal NOW.

With all the authority of an older sister Jazz tells Ellie to grab the go bag Danny had insisted on having prepared, and picks Danny up despite his protests that he could walk. Or well, fly. Ellie turns them all invisible and intangible and takes them down to the lab.

They can hear the sound of shouting, and something breaking and a gun being fired all coming from upstairs as Jazz opens the portal for Danny and Ellie.

Another shot rings out. And then another, and more shouting.

“Quickly you two need to go!”

Another shot.

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Danny, now Phantom, asks suddenly as he and Ellie are preparing to enter the Ghost Zone.

Two more shots.

“Someone needs to be here to deactivate the portal in case the guys in white make it down here. I’ll be fine. Mom and dad will be okay, they’re not here for us so you two need to go. Now!” There’s banging on the lab’s door and Jazz shoves both Danny and Ellie into the portal. The last thing Danny hears before the portal closes behind them is another shot being fired.

Danny is scared and angry as he and Ellie are forced to fly through the zone with no currently known way to get back to his family. He needs to make sure they’re okay. He needs to protect them.

But right now Danny is still hurt, and he needs to get himself and Ellie somewhere safe. They begin to slowly make their way through the zone, looking for somewhere to rest and avoiding any ghosts that might want to pick a fight.

Ellie isn’t sure how long she and Danny have been moving for. It feels like it could have been days, or hours, or even minutes. But Danny can’t fly as quickly right now. He’s trying to keep a brave face for Ellie’s sake but she can see the exhaustion beginning to take hold of him.

So Ellie makes the executive decision to touch down somewhere to rest. She tells Danny she’s tired. Danny knows she isn’t and it’s only because she’s worried and wants him to rest. So he goes along with it and they make their way to the next floating island they come across and thank the ancients it’s empty. The two halfas touch down and Danny slumps over as he sits against a nearby rock. Ellie pulls out some energy bars that were tucked away in the go bag and hands one over to Danny.

They do this a few times, stopping to rest, as they gradually make their way to the Far Frozen. Ellie had insisted on going there, Frostbite would know what to do, and he would be able to help Danny with his injuries that had started bleeding again in all the commotion of escaping, and then flying and hiding from ghosts known to attack Danny regularly.

But unfortunately luck is not on their side yet again as a natural portal rips open directly in front of them, and closes behind them after spitting them out in a city they didn’t recognise.

That’s how Danny and Ellie find themselves in Coast City, hiding out in an old warehouse by the docs while Danny heals and they figure out how they’re going to get back home.

That is, until now.

Danny stares up at his little sister and sighs with the resigned tone of an exasperated older sibling.

“Ellie,” he takes a breath, “what did you do?”

“I’m my defence,” Ellie glares up at Green Lantern, who has Ellie scruffed by the back of her hoodie, before looking back at Danny, “I simply do not vibe with the law.”

[nicksolemnlyswears]

STAY WITH US

this oneshot can be read as a standalone.

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME (PT. 2 HELAENA'S TURN)

pairing: aegon targaryen x targaryen! reader x helaena targaryen

word count: ~2.7k

warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of death of a child, mentions of blood, light cursing

a/n: so i lied, so sorry, my apologies, remember how i said i wanted this part to be smut? well it didn't happen. in the end it didn't seem right because these oneshots originated form a place of care and comfort [not horniness like usual]

that being said i am open to doing a series of small oneshots based on their relationship that are more spicy because regardless it lives rent free on my brain and i'd love to share the pervertedness they'd get up to. also i've never written a threesome and that seems like a good writing exercise.

hope you like this oneshot. it's really sweet and when i was thinking of what else to do with them it simply clicked. my only wish is for it to have the same comfort provoking feeling as the other two. while this little series was written as a way for me to feel better about these characters it makes me happy to know it served the same purpose for a lot of you guys. also this was my first time writing for HoTD and you're all so nice ;) THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE.

enjoy!

Without Jaehaerys by her side, his twin sister Jaehaera must adjust to being alone. Her lifelong playmate is gone, and now she ought to find her place as an only child.

The silver-haired girl restlessly jumps through different activities, searching for the one that will entertain her long enough without company. It is difficult because each time she successfully gets distracted, she turns to catch her brother's attention, only to find he's no longer there.

Queen Helaena watches her as she stitches together a new embroidery piece for a dress. The Queen spent her days with both her children, but now that one of them is gone, she spends nearly every waking moment with her daughter. Observing. Protecting. Alert.

"The three-headed dragon shall rise once more," Helaena mumbles under her breath. The maids ignore her mumblings. The Queen's words don't make sense half the time.

A squeal of delight from her daughter prompts the needle to pierce Helaena's finger and a bead of blood forms at the pad of it. Looking up, she finds you picking up Jaehaera and kissing her chubby cheeks. The girl is enamored by her cousin and the attention you provide.

"Good morrow, 'Laena," you brightly greet her, setting down Jaehaera and sitting by her on the floor. "Have you broken fast yet?"

Helaena places a hand in yours as a greeting and nods kindly, assuring you she's been eating all her meals. At times, her appetite turns into nausea as glimpses of her dead son invade her senses, but she tries fighting through it.

She closes her eyes and thinks of anything else—primarily you. You who distract her and treat her with such care without judgment of her eccentricities. It's odd how she's caught herself multiple times seeking your approval.

As Helaena returns to her stitching, Jaehaera bounces over and falls into your arms. "I wish for my hair to be like yours."

"Allow me, Princess," Jaehaera's nursemaid intervenes. She does not wish to be seen as lazy and incapable of her job to care for the children.

The small Princess holds tightly onto you, hiding her face on your chest as she settles on your lap. "No, I want my cousin to do it. She's a Princess, and I want Princess's hair."

You giggle at her words and gesture to the nursemaid that it's alright. "Come on, sweet girl, sit," you coo, positioning her in front of you.

One of the maids hands you a hairbrush, and you begin your work. As a Princess, your hair is mostly styled by your maids, but every lady should know how to style it appropriately.

"You're such a pretty girl, Jaehaera. Did you know that?" You talk to distract her from squirming too much. She's an impatient little thing, like her father.

Jaehaera giggles sound throughout the room. She hasn't laughed like that since her brother died. It brings a sad smile to Helaena's lips.

"You're prettier," Jaehaera whispers bashfully, her cheeks a healthy hue of pink.

"Oh, I don't know about that. You're much more beautiful. Do you know why?"

Jaehaera shakes her head, causing you to hold tightly onto the intricate plaits you're weaving in her hair. You inadvertently smile at her benightedness.

"Because you look just like your mummy, and she's very beautiful, and she's a Queen," you gasp lightly, creating a tone of excitement in your voice.

Although she's kept her nose down while stitching, Helaena's cheeks burn just as brightly as her daughters. Your words continue to flatter her. You have a way with words that can make even the most ordinary of townsfolk feel special.

With a small, excited gasp, Jaehaera asks, "Will I be Queen one day?"

"There's always a possibility," you hum, pining the remaining plait into her hair. It is hard to explain the complexities of succession and legacy to a child when there is a current war debating that same subject. "All done, go over to the mirror."

"She adores you," Helaena sighs as she watches her daughter fawn over her new hairstyle.

"And I, her. She's the sweetest girl ever."

Helaena turns to look at you and sees the soft smile gracing your lips. Your eyes then catch hers, and your smile broadens. It makes her wonder what her life would be like if you were not around. How would she have dealt with her emotions?

"I must go, but can you come to my bedchambers tonight? There is a matter I must discuss with you," Helaena says timidly, casting aside her embroidery.

"As you wish, my Queen." You can't fault her for preferring to speak in the depth of the night when the castle sleeps, and there are no wandering eyes to pass judgment.

It gives Helaena whiplash when you effortlessly switch from calling her name to calling her 'my Queen.' She rather enjoys both terms, especially when you call her yours.

Helaena bids you farewell with a kiss on the cheek, blissfully unaware of its effect on you. Such displays of affection are not rare in court, but lately, their significance has changed for you, as Helaena has never been one to indulge in court etiquette when it involves physical touch.

When the sun has disappeared over the horizon, and the castle has quieted down, you make your way to the Queen's bed chambers.

You have always been inclined to stay in the shadows, where it's safe. You are a sheep amongst a den of wolves, and if you draw too much attention to yourself, danger will follow.

You have failed so far, considering you enjoy the company of the King and Queen. Grief unexpectedly brought you together and made your bond steadfast, but wherever Aegon and Helaena go, watchful gazes follow, thus making you part of the spectacle as well.

Otto and Alicent Hightower are taking the reins of this unnecessary war, but you feel safe under Aegon's and Helaena's careful watch. You believe they will protect you from any danger coming from within the castle walls, at the very least.

You're doing your mother a great disservice as you strengthen the bond of the King and Queen. The ache of losing a child will forever remain in their hearts, and waves of pain continue to crash, but that thick fog of grief that was cast upon them has slowly started to lift, thanks to you.

Pushing open the door to Helaena's bedchambers, you step into the room. It's well into the night, and the candlelight illuminates the room. You stumble over your steps when you notice Aegon and Helaena standing close together as if they were about to kiss.

"My apologies, your graces. I believed the Queen to be alone," you bow your head, red painting your cheeks. It's a gesture that originates from embarrassment rather than submissiveness.

"Do not apologize. We wished to speak to you," Aegon speaks, beckoning you deeper into the room.

He offers you a goblet of wine, which you accept gracefully to alleviate the dizzying wave of nerves you're feeling. You've never been alone with Aegon and Helaena. People have always been around, and up to a fortnight ago, they barely spoke to one another.

The ruling couple sought your counsel regarding their marriage, recognizing you as an intermediary. You offered your advice to the best of your abilities, considering you have yet to marry.

With time and encouragement, they reached out to each other for comfort. Piece by piece, they were able to speak and share the emotions that troubled them. Nonetheless, they kept you closer than ever.

You're the calm amidst the storm.

You take a drink of the sweet wine to busy yourself. Helaena and Aegon stand side by side, his hand on the small of her back as Helaena plays with her fingers. They're backlit by the fire burning by the fireplace. It casts a warm glow over their figures, making the situation seem much more intimate. You're certainly intruding.

"We wish to thank you for everything you've done for us recently," Helaena breaks the creeping silence. She's just as nervous as you are, if not more.

"Helaena and I have been thinking about how to repay you for your generosity," Aegon continues, staring intently back at you to gauge your reaction to his words. He's afraid of reading you wrong and fucking things up—like he usually does.

You instantly shake your head, "As I said before, there is no need-"

Helaena's following words cause silence to befall as you stare back at them in surprise. A sort of surprise they cannot read. "We wish to wed you," Helaena blurts nervously, her fingers twisting together.

This is not a moment to speak in riddles. Helaena is fully aware of the situation before her and wishes nothing more than for you to stay by their side, no matter the cost.

For once in her life, she hasn't felt lonely in the castle. She has an ally she can trust and confide in.

You've been the subject of Aegon and Helaena's conversations for numerous nights. At first, it was difficult to understand that they both held deep affection towards you while caring for each other. They debated for a long time about what to do about it and they agreed on one thing wholeheartedly—you only deserved the best.

Then, it came to Aegon.

He's named after Aegon' The Conqueror' Targaryen. The King took over the seven kingdoms with his sister wives by his side.

A simple Valyrian tradition would solve their dilemma while strengthening his claim to the throne. It's poetic, a part of history being re-enacted.

"Pardon?" Your voice is barely above a whisper. You stare back at them with wide eyes as they jump from Aegon to Helaena and back to Aegon.

The goblet in your hand lightly shakes along with your hand. You place it on a nearby table, afraid of spilling it. Surely, you misheard.

"Our affection grows greater day by day. More than we ever thought possible," Helaena confesses, desperately reaching for your hand.

Your gaze falls on Aegon to seek his opinion, and he nods in agreement. There is not much to say. You have proved yourself valuable to them in a way that is much too important. You serve to keep them sane and emotionally stable. A feat no one has cared to accomplish before.

You do not use Aegon as a puppet or manipulate him to achieve sinister goals on behalf of his name, much like the rest of the court does. Those people only care for power, even if they break Aegon piece by piece. They destroy him while you take the time to pick up the pieces and put him back together.

"Such drastic actions must not be taken. I merely offered you comfort when you needed it because I care for you both," you stutter, pressing a hand to your forehead. All of a sudden, the room is warm, and a layer of perspiration forms on the back of your neck.

Aegon grunts and approaches you, cupping your face in his palms, "That is precisely why we wish to do this. You have cared for us like no one has before, including ourselves. You planted yourself in our souls, and now we cannot let you go lest we go insane. If you do not feel the same, say it, but do not lie to us."

His tone is firm, yet he cannot disguise the pleading behind it. He's never wanted something as much as he wants you.

"I-" Your palms ghost over the top of his.

It is all too much. The prospect of being wed looms over your head like a threat. Otto Hightower will have no qualms about using your lack of a husband as a war strategy. It should not be his decision in the first place, but it is out of your hands as you're considered a prisoner to him.

You would be a liar if you said you did not reciprocate their feelings. They've been present for a while now, it is why comforting them comes so easily to you. Seeing them hurt only pains you.

With this new opportunity, you will no longer be used. You will not be sold to some old lord in the countryside for the gain of a few hundred men. You would be protected.

Most importantly, you will marry a man and a woman who love you. Yes, they are broken, but with you by their side, they will thrive and rise to the occasion.

Aegon's lilac eyes beg you to accept their proposal. "I feel emotions I thought impossible. They are confusing and overwhelming, but they are real," you admit.

Relief floods over Aegon, and he can't help but release a sigh of relief. He presses his forehead against yours, whispering a silent thank you to the old gods and the new.

"Will you become our wife? Our lifelong companion?" Helaena asks, coming up behind you. You feel her breath on your neck as she leans her head on your shoulder.

One word is enough to respond. One simple word will change your life. For good or bad is to be determined.

"Yes," you breathe, reaching for her hand. The smile on Aegon's lips and Helaena's giggles in your ear make it all worth it.

Aegon needed to do things right so no one could argue against your union. He contacted the Septon himself, and only a day later, after his proposal, the Valyrian ceremony took place.

He clearly instructed his guard and the Septon that they must not tell anyone, or there would be consequences.

The ceremony is quick and private amongst the gardens of the Red Keep. You wear the traditional red and gold robes and headpieces that match Aegon's.

A red dragon decorates the front of your garb, matching Helaena's golden one on her dress. She stands to the side with a faint smile, Jaehaera clinging to her dress.

Aegon carefully cuts your lip with the dragon glass. As blood surges to the surface, he presses his thumb to the cut and later spreads it across your skin. You repeat the same on his lips, staring apologetically back at him, yet the burning pain does not compare to the pain he's felt before. It's almost pleasurable as he takes in the symbolism of the gesture.

Cutting your palms, you let the blood that will bind you together for eternity fall onto the goblet. You lock eyes with Aegon as you take a drink from it, passing it to him a moment later.

He was not raised surrounded by Targaryen customs, but he has a new deep appreciation for them. The ceremony is deeply intimate as they share the blood that will mark them as one.

With a couple of final words, the Septon concludes the ceremony and with the knowledge that you are entirely theirs, Aegon crashes his lips against yours.

Aegon stayed firm in his words. He did not wish to sully your name, so he waited until the moment was right. The reward is much too sweet.

It is the first time you've shared a kiss with Aegon, and it is unlike anything you've felt before. In the past, you've snuck kisses in dark corners of the Red Keep, but none have ever kissed you with the intensity Aegon has to offer.

Helaena approaches your tangled embrace, and as you resurface for a breath, she presses her much more delicate lips on yours. The kiss is so different yet the same simultaneously. The intent behind it is identical while the pace is slower and sultrier.

Yours and Aegon’s blood coats her lips and it’s as if she also partook on the ceremony. Your heart beats intensely inside your chest but you’re happy.

Finally, you three are bonded, destined to stay together for eternity.

Jaehaerys will forever be missed. His life has become a mystery; Aegon and Helaena will never see it fulfilled. But in this tragedy, the gods were kind to Aegon and Helaena and provided a new person to love, cherish, and join their family.

were you expecting a good old throuple situation? eh, eh (pretend i'm wiggling my eyebrows and nudging your side with my elbow). im just saying she's perfect for their little dysfunctional family and the drama it will create with the Hightowers and Targaryens? immaculate.

if you enjoyed this oneshot please don’t forget to like or comment (i accept keyboard smashes, emojis, words of encouragement, praise, virtual hugs and gushing about hel and aegon) and if you want more of it feel free to let me know!

[hanahaki270]

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ “You Belong to Me” ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

・❥・ Synopsis ・❥・ Having an Uchiha as an ex doesn’t mean anything. Once you’ve managed to make them fall for you, you’re basically stuck with them for eternity.

・❥・ Pairing ・❥・ Sasuke x Fem!reader

・❥・ A/N ・❥・ I finally decided to continue watching shippuden after having it on pause for 5 years.. yeahhh so I’m having a huge obsession with it rn. Also please feel free to send prompt requests for me to write! And I feel like I definitely could have written this out better but I was in a rush and stressed out about Job interviews so mb

♥︎

You finally gathered the courage within you to end your relationship with Sasuke. This wasn’t an easy decision. In fact it was tearing you apart. You still loved him. But the differences between your priorities and his were far too different to the point where they were conflicting with each other.

You might as well have been talking to a wall that day with how blank his expression was after you just announced how you were breaking up with him. The loud silence was killing you inside, does he not care at all?

♥︎

-You wanting to break up with him was like a jab at his ego. The Sasuke Uchiha. The last prodigy of his clan and you wanted to leave him? Though this enraged him, he refused to let you know it. He couldn’t let you have the satisfaction of knowing that this actually affected him.

-After you left the apartment he started to completely trash the place. Everything in it was obliterated into nothingness. But as soon as he went out in public he acted completely fine as if nothing happened.

-Anytime you were around he would make sure you saw him with other girls. He wanted to show you that he could be with anybody he desired without a problem, at any given second. Show you that you weren’t nothing special to him.

-He was lying. Because as soon as you left his vision he treated the girls like shit and pushed them aside after they served their purpose in making you jealous.

-He tried to sleep with random women in the village to further prove that he didn’t need you. (He was really just trying to convince himself) but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. None of them even compared to your beauty. Even the thought of another person lying on the bed you two once shared disgusted him.

-After weeks of this even Sasuke couldn’t believe his own facade. He craved you. He craved your smile, your laughter, Your touch. And is willing to do whatever it takes to remind you that you belong with him.

-He sucked up his pride and begged Naruto to send you two on missions together. So you’d be basically forced to talk to each other . (Naruto uses this against him every now and then)

-During one of the missions, one of your comrades decide to get a little touchy with you. You pay this no mind since you have no interest in the guy, but Sasuke definitely notices it. What’s a worthless ninja doing talking to what’s his?

-A couple of days after that mission, the scenario of another man getting that close to you haunted Sasuke day and night. There’s no way in hell you’d ever willingly decide to be with any other man but him. Right? He needed the reassurance and he needed it now.

-It was 4 am when you opened the door to your apartment after you were awoken by loud desperate banging on the door just to be faced with your ex. He invited himself in, closing the door behind him as he slowly crept towards you.

“Sasuke?”

-He reached for your hand and held it in his, as he focused on you as if there was nothing else in this world. You could tell he developed dark circles since the last time you saw him.

“The day we got together was the day I chose you to be the one I repopulate my clan with. The only one worthy of the surname Uchiha. You’re mine and I’m yours.”

-He noticed how you were at a loss of words so he took this moment to do what he’s been yearning to. He grabbed the back of your head pulling you into a kiss. The kiss was messy and desperate. He kissed you as if you were the oxygen he needed to breathe. And to him, you were.

-Needless to say you were vulnerable to his request and took him back. How could you not?

♥︎

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 6

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

DEFINETLY NSFW! Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

For somebody that filled her romance novels with plenty of smut… Sky wasn’t exactly as experienced as one may expected. 

Actually…she was woefully inexperienced.

There had been Admon…and Admon it had been.

The rest of the stuff in her books…well, that was just her fantasy wildly spinning stories about how sex should feel. Informed by plenty of books she had read, other authors, and of course…there were the two people that got to read every book she wrote before it was published: Orla, her publisher, and her friend Ressina, who was nice enough to take the pen to every thing she wrote that was woefully inaccurate. 

Because nothing ever felt to her like she portrayed it in the books.

Maybe that was normal. Maybe it was because of course her books portrayed something…better than reality, an escape from it. But still…sometimes Sky had just wondered…

As Azriel carried her towards the bedroom, Sky couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nervousness in her stomach. It wasn’t that she didn’t want this, she did, more than anything. But the truth was, she was…nervous.

She had written about this moment countless times, had described it in vivid detail in her novels. But now that it was actually happening, she felt…insecure. What if it wasn’t as good in real life as she made it out to be on paper? What if she did disappoint him?

(Sky knew that she had disappointed Admon numerous times…that she seemingly had never been enough for him…had been so bad at it in fact that he had instead slept with her sister…which was a whole other kettle of fish that she really didn’t want ot think to close about right now.)

Sky tried to push those thoughts aside, to focus on the here and now. 

Azriel was here with her, he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. She could feel it in the way he held her, the way he looked at her. And yet, that nagging feeling of doubt still lingered.

And then there was the fact while he had admitted to sending his shadows to search for her… Sky was still keeping a rather big secret.

“Az…Azriel…” she said hesitantly.  “There…there is one thing you should know about me.”

Azriel paused, setting Sky down on the bed gently before turning to look at her. 

"Go on," he prompted her gently, taking her hand in his as he sat down next to her and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You can tell me anything, Sky." She believed him. he wouldn’t judge her. She was sure of that as well. 

“You…You k…know how…how I…I write… ro…romance no..novels?” Sky asked him, biting her lip.

Azriel nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes, I do," he said, leaning in closer to her. "You told me.”

“I…I am Sellyn Drake,” she blurted out.

She had never outright admitted it to another person. 

Ressina had been the one who had send off her first manuscript to be published…and Orla had met with her…these were the two people in existence that knew that Skylar Alden was also Sellyn Drake. And Skylar had always been comfortable with keeping it that way. 

There was no need to tell anybody else. 

Which was why it worked so well, that Ressina was an artist and could paint the bookcovers for her. No need whatsoever to let anybody else see the hesitant first drafts until she was sure this was where she wanted to go. Just Ressina. Just one of her very few friends. If not her only. 

Azriel stared at her, his eyes widening in surprise. "What?" he asked, completely taken aback. "You're...Sellyn Drake?" There was no…outright disbelief in his voice, just shock. 

*We know! We made Master read your books!* the shadows cooed. *Lady Death, The Priestess and The Shopkeeper love them too!*

She had no idea who any of these people were but…

Azriel's eyes widened even further as the shadows spoke up. "You...you knew about this?" he asked them, turning towards the shadows in disbelief. "You knew. That’s why you gave me her books to read!”

This was just getting better and better.

Sky, who had been watching Azriel and the shadows’ exchange with a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment, couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. 

“Do…Do they always…” she couldn’t even put it into words. 

Azriel sighed. “They like to meddle,” he said darkly. “And this time they were particularly persistent.” He shot a reproachful look at the shadows, who cowered a little under his gaze. "I won't lie, they did manipulate me into reading your books. And when my shadows do something they are rather...convincing."

She swallowed. 

“Did…did you…li…like them at…at least?” Sky asked hesitantly. 

Azriel hesitated for a moment before answering. 

"I...I did," he admitted earnestly. "Your writing...it's brilliant, Sky.” Her heart soared at his words. She treasured them, hoarding them away like a dragon. But he wasn’t done. “The characters, the emotions, the way you make the reader feel everything...it's incredible. I couldn't put them down."

Sky grinned at his words, feeling a swell of pride in her chest. "I…I'm glad you..you li…liked them," she said softly.

*Master especially liked the…*

“Shut. Up.” Azriel snapped, his ears reddening and Sky started laughing. She could just about imagine what the shadows wanted to tell her at that moment. 

Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I'm going to kill them," he muttered under his breath.

"They…they are ju…just try…trying to help you, aren't they?" she asked softly, squeezing his hand in hers. Only now she noticed the violent scars that marred them, the texture of raised and bumpy skin…but she didn’t care. Not one bit.  

*Of course, we are,* the shadows said, like any other idea was simply blasphemous. *We gave Master the best information we could. So that Master would know what you like.*

Sky probably shouldn't find it as adorable as she did. But the lengths they had gone to...the way they had made Azriel read her books so that he would know what she liked...nobody in her life had ever gone to these lengths just to find out what she liked.

"I swear I am not a total creep," Azriel told her with a grimace.

Sky laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "No…no, no, you're not," she assured him, squeezing his, hands gently. "I…I ac…actually think it's… quite… sweet. In a weird, sli…slightly invasive kind of way. But sweet nonetheless."

"I think you are the only female that could possible think that," Azriel muttered, glaring at the shadows that didn't seem apologetic in the slightest.

Sky grinned, leaning in closer to him. "It’s… endearing,” she finally settled on. “Maybe even a lit…little bit charming," she promised him earnestly.

Azriel looked at her incredulously, his expression softening a little. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?" he asked her.

Sky shook her head. "No. No, I'm not," she said, her voice unwavering. "I…I mean it, Azriel. It iss actually really sweet that you would go to… such lengths just to try to un…understand me better. And you ad…admitted to it. And not just after the mating bond was accepted but within hours of meeting me." 

Azriel didn't keep it a secret, even when he could have, and she would have been none the wiser. 

"I don't know what I ever did to deserve you. But I'm not going to question it," he whispered. 

She swallowed. That's what she was thinking. The exact same words. 

Sky pulled him down, letting his forehead rest against hers.

"I know that...that I am supposed to cook you something...but how disappointed would you be if I gave you one of those caramel bonbons in my purse to accept the bond instead?" she asked him softly, meeting his gaze. 

His eyes widened and he stared at her in pure, undiluted wonder. 

"I could not possible be dissappointed by whatever you offered me," Azriel whispered. "But...are you...are you sure?"

"I am being utterly selfish," she whispered. "Yes. I want you." She didn't care that people would have thoughts about it...that she was rushing into this. 

They were probably right. 

But Sky really didn't care. Sky only wanted him. Sky was ready to throw caution overboard and rush into this headfirst without a thought about the consequences, if that meant that she would get her mate.

"Then let's be selfish together," Azriel whispered.

With shaky hands she reached into her purse, finding one of the caramel bonbon she kept in there...unwrapped it out of the paper and then...then she offered it to him, lifting it to his lips.

Azriel looked at the bonbon, then at her, and for a moment she thought he would say something. But then his mouth opened and he took it from her hand... He chewed it, swallowing carefully, his gaze never wavering from hers. For a moment, they stayed suspended in that moment of tension, the only sound their breathing. And then, he leaned in, closing the distance between them, and kissed her as if she was the most precious thing in his entire world.

A Mating Frenzy had always been protrayed as animalistic in every book she read. So of course, Sky had written the exact same thing.

But it wasn't...not really.

Not for them. 

And being with Azriel was also a far cry from being with Admon...mostly because then it had often been...embarrassing and painful. 

Admon had always found something to criticise on her body...foreplay had been nonexistent, even when she had tried...and while he had been more than willing to use her mouth to find his own pleasure he had never returned that favour.

With Azriel it was different. Every touch, every caress, every kiss made her feel things she had never felt before. It was like her body was coming alive for the first time.

All her senses were heightened, every nerve in her body singing with pleasure, and Sky couldn't get enough of him. She wanted more. No, she needed more. As Azriel trailed kisses down her throat, she arched her back, pressing herself against him, her hands roaming over his body, exploring every inch of him that she could reach.

"Can I...Can I touch your wings?" she asked breathlessly, not wanting to...cross some unsaid line.

"Please," Azriel breathed out. "Yes, Sky, please." He lifted his wings, extending them out behind him, giving her free rein to touch and explore to her heart's content. As Sky's fingers brushed against the contours of his wings, Azriel let out a low, guttural moan, his wings twitching and shuddering at the sensation. They were massive and pitch black.

"They are beautiful," she whispered, running her hands over the silky black skin, feeling the warmth radiating from them.

He shuddered at her touch, his wings arching and trembling beneath her gentle caress. he leaned his forehead against hers as he gently tipped her back against the bed and she went willingly, wrapping her hands over the gleaming talons at the tip of his wings as she kissed him.

Azriel growled softly in response, his hands sliding up beneath her dress, opening the lacing in one fluid motion. As the dress fell open, revealing her body beneath, Azriel pulled back for a moment, looking down at her with dark, hungry eyes. "You are so beautiful," he breathed, his gaze roaming over her body.

She didn't even have the time to feel self-conscious, not when she was drowning in the waves of desire that shot across their bond from him. Not when her whole body seemingly trembled against his and she kissed him again, opening her mouth to his tongue.

He slipped open the dress and she opened her mouth, halfway ready to tell him how he could get the corset she wore off, but he already opened the lacing. "Why?" he asked her softly, as he saw the red indents left on her body, and she grimaced.

"Claire," she whispered.

She wore corsets usually for support, because her breast could get heavy and painful without the proper support...but she never laced them as tightly as she did when she saw her family. Or her sister. Then she pulled them tight, trying to squash her body to be something…something her family could stomach, something they maybe wouldn't comment on...she always failed.

Azriel hissed softly, his fingers lightly tracing the red marks on her skin. She knew that they looked horrible, and yet he looked...angered? Almost furious. His expression softened as he looked back into her eyes, his fingers gently tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Why would you do something like that to yourself, Sky?" he murmured, his eyes searching hers. "You are beautiful. You don't need to change anything about your body." He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to a particularly hard imprint the corset had left.

Sky swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in her throat as emotion welled up in her chest. No one had ever said something like that to her, had ever made her feel like she was good enough just the way she was. She opened her mouth, trying to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she just nodded, feeling a single tear slip down her cheek. Azriel wiped it away with his thumb, his other hand coming up to cup her face tenderly.

"You are perfect," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Just the way you are. Don't ever let anyone make you feel otherwise. Not even your family." Sky leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and just focusing on the closeness, the warmth, the feeling of being cherished and protected.

With every word he spoke, she felt a weight lifting off her shoulders, her fears and insecurities melting away. She realized that maybe, just maybe, she had found someone who truly saw her, the real her. Who accepted her exactly as she was, flaws and all.

It was so easy to sink into that. So easy to trust him. So easy to just kiss him, as she pushed the shirt he wore over his shoulders...to feel acres of gold skin, dotted with scars and dark markings...to bare him for her view and see how utterly gorgeous her mate was.

He growled softy as she ran her hand down his chest, tracing the scars that marked his skin. His body was a tapestry of pain and survival, yet she wasn't deterred. She only found him more beautiful for it.

"Mine," she whispered, pressing her lips to his chest, to one particularly nasty scar. "All mine." She could feel his heart pounding beneath her lips, the steady beat matching the rhythm of her own heartbeat. Her hands trailed down his chest, his stomach, until she reached the waistband of his trousers.

It was so easy.

So easy, to shed clothing until they were bare...so easy to press against him and feel warm, perfect skin...so easy to relax underneath him as he stretched over her...so easy to simply cup his face as she kissed him...as her legs wrapped around his hips and he groaned and she whimpered as she felt him...hot and hard and huge, pressing against her...She was dripping wet without him even laying as single finger on her beneath the waist.

Azriel didn't look unaffected, his breath coming in ragged pants, his eyes fixed on hers as they were blown wide and dark with want. He didn't move, didn't kiss her, didn't pull her closer. He only waited. Waited for her. 

"I need you," she whimpered. "Please. Please, Az." He let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl, his hips rocking gently against her, teasing them both with the heat and friction between them.

Nothing hurt. Nothing ever even threatened to hurt...Even as she could feel him notch against her there...even when she could feel herself lewdly stretched open on his cock...

It was so soft and gentle and sweet and…

It was everything Sky had ever wanted. 

Not the rough kind of fucking...not the animalistic coupling she wrote half the time...but she had wanted this. She had wanted sweetness and adoration and...love...and to be wrapped up in her mate's arms like she was a precious, precious thing. She had wanted whispered praised against her skin and to be touched like she mattered...

"Sky," he whispered, his hands running up her side, his touch was soft and soothing, worshipping her body. He kissed her, slowly, deeply, and there was something...almost overwhelming about it.

About the way he made her feel. The way he made her feel loved and adored. The way he made her feel cherished. Her hands wandered up to his back, tracing the muscles shifting beneath scarred, scarred skin.

She could feel him trembling, feel the tension in his body as he held himself back, but still, he moved in slow and gentle thrusts, taking his time. He worshipped her - every little gasp and moan, every curve of her body. He traced her shape with his fingertips and lips, exploring her as though he was trying to memorize every inch of her body.

She didn't know how long they stayed that way, their bodies as one, but Sky didn't care. She was surrounded by him - the heat of his skin, the sound of his breath, the way he whispered her name like a prayer. Sky could feel the love and devotion pouring through the bond, washing over her in waves, and she knew that this was exactly where she was meant to be. With him, in his arms, completely and utterly whole.

It nearly came as a shock as she came.

A breathless moan fell from her lips as her orgasm rushed over her, her body arching as she called out his name. He kissed her through it, murmuring praise against her lips as he held her close, his own release following soon after.

They stayed there for a moment, tangled together, both of them breathless and sated. Azriel's wings slowly wrapped around them, cocooning them in a warm, protective embrace that made Sky feel safe and cherished in a way she had never experienced before.

***

There was not one inch of his mate's body that wasn't utterly beautiful. From the tips of her arched ears, to her beautiful eyes...to the swell of her breasts and the dip of her waist and the soft flesh of her belly and the flare of her hips...she smelled so good too...especially now that their scents had started to mix, and he could breath in caramel and hazelnuts and cedars and the sweet, beautiful scent of happiness as she laid underneath him. His head was bedded on her stomach, as she drew short fingernails through his messy dark hair. He nearly wanted to start to purr as she scratched at his scalp.

Azriel felt...content.

More content than he ever remembered feeling. He was wrapped up in her, his mate, with her gentle hands in his hair, and he felt utterly and completely at peace. He didn't care if they never moved from that bed again. He didn't care if the world outside their little cocoon burned. So long as she was by his side, he was content. He had never felt like this before. He had never felt this...happy. This...whole.

"I need to go feed Hector," Sky told him softly, trailing her fingers through his hair.

"Can I just have the shadows kidnap him and bring him here?" he asked, not wanting to move.

"You can't go kidnapping my cat, Az," she chided him gently, but even as she said the words, she didn't stop drawing her fingers through his hair, and Azriel didn't move. He was far too comfortable.

"Why not?" he complained.

"You'll terrify him," she said with a laugh. "Besides, do you have cat food here?"

"I'll have the shadows find some Tuna," he mumbled.

"Do…Do they just ac…acquire whatever you tell them to?" she asked him with some amusement. 

And lots of things he didn't tell them to, as well. They thought he didn’t know. 

Azriel raised himself on his forearms, looking down at Sky with a glint in his eye. "You have no idea how many things I've acquired that way," he told her with a grin.

She lifted her hands, cupping his cheeks and pulling him down towards her, resting her forehead against his. "You're a menace," she murmured against his lips.

"Your menace," he replied, kissing her softly.

Sky smiled, a warm, slow curve of her lips that made his chest feel tight. "Mine," she agreed, her voice soft. "But no kidnap…kidnapping my cat. He's at home."

"We could make this our home," he protested softly. "Move in with me."

Azriel had no fucking clue what was even coming over him. They should have slowed down, stopped to think...but neither of them seemed to want to.

They just…they seemed utterly content to crash through what other people considered a normal timeline and just be together right now. 

He just wanted to be near her. He wanted to share a life with her, a home. He wanted to curl up with her in front of the fire on a cold winter's night, and spend lazy Sunday mornings in bed with her. He wanted to take her flying, and watch as she wrote and listened to her read the words she wrote. 

And he wanted - Gods, he wanted her to want that too. He held his breath as he waited for her response.

For a moment, she was silent, and Azriel wondered if he had stepped too far, asked too much too soon. 

But then, Sky smiled again, her eyes sparkling with emotions. 

"...Al…Alright," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll…I’ll move in with you." 

Azriel couldn't help but grin as he pressed his forehead to hers. "Really? You mean it?" he asked, still unable to believe his ears.

"Really," she echoed with a laugh, before her expression turned serious. "But I…I have one co…condition." 

Azriel raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "What is it?"

"If I move in with you..." she began, wrapping her arms around his neck. "All my books need to come to," she told him seriously.

Azriel laughed, leaning back in to kiss her softly. "All your books can come, if that's what you want," he said. "As long as you're here, I don't care what else you bring."

And then the shadows unceremoniously dumped a screeching demon on the bed with them.

Sky let out a surprised yelp as Hector landed next to them with a thud, quickly scrambling away from the cat - and from under Azriel's weight. Azriel, for his part, sprang up, his wings flaring out in alarm. For several long moments, the three of them just stared at each other. Hector, his mismatched eyes glowing, his fur puffed up to twice it’s normal size, and Sky, her expression a mixture of surprise and affection as she looked at her pet. Finally, she cleared her throat. "Well, that's one way to introduce the two of you. Az, meet Hector."

...Gods, the shadows had really not been lying when they said that the cat was the ugliest thing they had ever seen.

Azriel slowly lowered his wings, eyeing the creature that was half-cat and half-demon. "He...looks like he wants to kill me," he said slowly.

Sky laughed, reaching out to scratch Hector's head. "He's just grumpy because he got teleported here so suddenly," she told him. "And he's not used to strangers." Hector's fur slowly flattened, and he began to purr, rubbing his head against Sky's hand. "Besides, he'd never hurt anyone," she added, looking up at Azriel with a smile.

Somehow Azriel highly doubted that.

Sky picked Hector up, cradling the cat in her arms as his purring grew louder. "See? He's not so bad," she told Azriel, moving towards him, and Azriel had to resist the urge to back away. "Hold out your hand, let him sniff you. He just needs to get used to you."

Azriel hesitantly held out his hand, trying his best to ignore the way Hector's eyes seemed to glow with an eerie light. After a moment, Hector moved forward, sniffing at Azriel's hand. Azriel felt the soft brush of whiskers against the palm of his hand, and Hector nudged his head against him, purring louder.

"See, he loves you!" Sky said enthusiastically

Azriel let out a laugh, slowly scratching the top of Hector's head. "I think he's just trying to lull me into a false sense of security before he scratches my eyes out, you know."

She rolled her eyes, "You are the most handsome cat I know," she cooed at him. "And you won't ever scratch out Azriel's eyes. No, you won't.”

Azriel would not quite go as far as describe the cat as handsome...but then...his own scarred hands weren't particularly beautiful either.

So Hector and him had that in common.

And the fact that they both wanted to cuddle with Sky. Actually, he was pretty sure that the cat hated him just for taking away his monopoly on that.

But Azriel would have shared a house with the King of Hybern if that meant that he got to have Sky in his bed.

She smiled at him, her eyes warm and adoring. "I knew you two would hit it off," she said, holding Hector in the crook of her arm. The cat stared at Azriel for a moment, as if sizing him up, before leaping off Sky's lap and disappearing under the bed with a soft patter of paws. "He'll warm up to you eventually," Sky assured him, but Azriel wasn't so sure about that.

He pulled Sky in closer to him, slipping back underneath the sheets with her, kissing her forehead. "I'll win him over, eventually," he promised her. At least, he hoped he would - he didn't particularly enjoy the idea of having to wake up with his throat being sliced open by an angry cat.

He would buy that damn cat all the Tuna in the world if that made Sky happy.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

How to Tell If That Post of Advice Is AI Bullshit

Right, I wasn't going to write more on this, but every time I block an obvious AI-driven blog, five more clutter up the tags. So this is my current (April 2024) advice on how to spot AI posts passing themselves off as useful writing advice.

No Personality - Look up a long-running writing blog, you'll notice most people try to make their posts engaging and coming from a personal perspective. We do this because we're writers and, well, we want to convey a sense of ourselves to our readers. A lot of AI posts are straight-forward - no sense of an actual person writing them, no variation in tone or text.

No Examples - No attempts to show how pieces of advice would work in a story, or cite a work where you could see it in action. An AI post might tell you to describe a person by highlighting two or three features, and that's great, but it's hard to figure out how that works without an example.

Short, Unhelpful Definitions - A lot of what I've seen amount to two or three-sentence listicles. 'When you want to write foreshadowing, include a hint of what you want foreshadowed in an earlier chapter.' Cool beans, could've figured that out myself.

SEO/AI Prompt Language Included - I've seen way too many posts start with "this post is about..." or "now we will discuss..." or "in this post we will..." in every single blog. This language is meant to catch a search engine or is ChatGPT reframing the prompt question. It's not a natural way of writing a post for the average tumblr user.

Oddly Clinical Language - Right, I'm calling out that post that tried to give advice on writing gay characters that called us "homosexuals" the entire time. That's a generative machine trying to stay within certain parameters, not an actual person who knows that's not a word you'd use unless you were trying to be insulting or dunking on your own gay ass in the funniest way possible.

Too Perfect - Most generative AI does not make mistakes (this is how many a student gets caught trying to use it to cheat). You can find ways to make it sound more natural and have it make mistakes, but that takes time and effort, and neither of those are really a factor in these posts. They also tend to have really polished graphics and use the same format every time.

Maximized Tags (That Are Pointless) - Anyone who uses more than 10 one-word tags is a cop. Okay, fine, I'm joking, but there's a minimal amount of tags that are actually useful when promoting a post. More tags are not going to get a post noticed by the algorithm, there is no algorithm. Not everyone has to use their tags to make snarky comments, but if your tags look like a spambot, I'm gonna assume you're a spambot.

No Reblogs From The Rest of Writblr - I'm always finding new Writblr folks who have been around for awhile, but every real person I've seen reblogs posts from other people. We've all got other stuff to do, I'm writing this blog to help others and so are they, the whole point of tumblr is to pass along something you think is great.

While you'll probably see some variation in the future - as people get wise to obviously generated text, they'll try to make it look less generated - but overall, there's still going to be tells to when something is fake.

I don't have any real advice for what to do about this (other than block those blogs, which is what I do). Like most AI bullshit, I suspect most of these blogs are just another grift, attempting to build large follower counts to leverage or sell something to in the future. They may progress past these tattletale features, but I'm still going to block them when I see them. I don't see any value in writing advice compiled from the work of better writers who put the effort in when I can just go find those writers myself.

[yolli-es]

Could you possibly write fluff alphabet prompts for the lovely girl Jinx :3

Fluff Alphabet Jinx ❣️

Tags: NO spoilers for season 2 (if you haven't watched it yet), mention of violent acts, psychological problems.

My heart is broken, so I hope this helps heal yours.. Perhaps I misunderstood the request and/or points.

Affection: How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?

Touch, touch, touch.

Does this all the time and expects the same from you. Jinx can never help it, she won't even try. Every time you're lost in thought, she'll take your hand and play with your fingers. Gently, lightly, and casually. You won't even notice, but she can do it for hours.

Jinx is very attached to you and never leaves you for more than an hour unless absolutely necessary.

Just let her do it.

Best friend: What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?

Spontaneous. She often said something strange, and after looking at your face, she laughed awkwardly and quickly changed the subject. She came up with strange, sometimes too childish games to have fun and too dangerous to strengthen your relationship.

Like your first meeting. Don't be surprised if you bumped into her or she suddenly tried to steal something from you and then you became friends. This is Jinx.

You quickly got used to it.

Cuddles: Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?

Hug, hug, hug.

Jinx has received many hugs in her life, but never one that was so meaningful and necessary to her. Vi and Silco were important to her, but you have a deeper connection with her. Every hug reminds her that she is not just existing. It gives her strength and faith in her better side.

If she could, she would do it forever. It doesn't matter how, gently or harshly, with love or joy. The main thing is that it's you.

Domestic: Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?

Surprisingly, Jinx is good at cooking. But only because she is picky. Yes, Zaun is not a buffet, but she knows exactly what she wants and how she will get it. She will not let you eat something garbage.

And yet, she just doesn't see the point in cleaning. Haven't you seen her lair?

"If it's dusty, you don't need it; what's the problem, toots?"

Ending: If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

No way.

It would be the end of the world. Break up with you after everything she's been through? Forget it. She'll do anything, from murder to rebuilding her personality. Yes, Jinx will resist and say that she won't do it. But she will. She's too scared. You've done so much for her, and she lives and breathes with you.

If you leave her, she will not leave you alone. Jinx will follow you in the shadows. It is unlikely that you will ever know that she is there, unless Jinx herself wants you to know. She will definitely find a way to come back to you, and believe me, you simply will not have a choice.

In case of an unforeseen situation... she definitely won't survive without someone's support.

Fiance(e): How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?

Never really thought about it. There's too much going on in her life to think about something as simple and mundane as a wedding.

But that doesn't mean she'll never think about it.

It will be like a sudden walk in Zaun when she suddenly sees a married couple and it dawns on her. Most likely, she will propose to you almost immediately after he thinks about it.

Say yes, and she will throw you the most lavish wedding. In her style, of course.

Say no, and she'll just wait before trying again. 

Gentle: How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

Jinx gives you all the tenderness that is left in her. Every time she tries to be more careful with you, especially when she tries to make it pleasant for you. Hugs, kisses, and games, in most cases, will take place in playful and caring touches.

But emotions are too much. Jinx can't control them, even though she tries. She has a hard time talking about her feelings, especially when they don't match yours. This only makes things worse and makes her feel misunderstand. So in her vulnerable moments, Jinx tries to move away from you, just to avoid scaring you and driving you both into a corner of fear and mistrust.

She's trying; give her a chance and time. You are a good influence on her.

Hugs: Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

Jinx hugs you often, and yes, it's the best way to say, "I'm here, and I love you." In most cases, it will do it too tightly; it is quite strong. 

I love you: How fast do they say the L-word?

It's complicated. Even when Jinx confessed to you, she couldn't say it without stumbling and biting her lips.

It didn't get any easier with time. It's easier for her to show with actions than to say. She'll make, listen, steal, sew, cook, and anything but say? Oh... And yet, Jinx knows better than anyone how sometimes it is important to hear confirmation that you are loved. 

And she will say it, definitely.

Jealousy: How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?

It's so bad that she saw the enemy even in her sister. Just once, it was awkward, but still.

Jinx will definitely know if someone likes you. It must be her magic ability. Then she will be even closer, more aggressive, and talkative. She will lose her shyness even if you don't like it. Jinx might show you off her new gadgets with a hint of "Oh, I have no one to test this on." If the person doesn't understand... well, I think he did.

It's not you; no, she's absolutely certain of your loyalty. The problem is in this world and... in her. She's still Jinx, isn't she?

Kisses: What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?

She kisses wherever and whenever she wants. Why should she choose or be shy?

Most of the time, these are innocent and quick pecks on the cheek, lips, and neck. Sometimes, you'll get a barrage of quick kisses, so attack back!

The rest of the time, Jinx does not skimp on long and intense kisses. She will always make the first "trial" kiss as if inviting you to continue and giving you the opportunity to say no. She won't object the rest of the time either, but then you will definitely not get rid of her teasing and sad face for the rest of the day.

Everything she does to you, Jinx expects to get in return.

Little ones: How are they around children?

Doesn't notice them most of the time. It's understandable; most of the children here are doomed.

And yet, if the child becomes a little closer to her than a stranger and Jinx sees the child's sincere affection, it will mean that now this is your child. It does not matter whether he has parents or some problems with anything; now this is your child, and Jinx loves him.

In most cases, she will act playfully with the child, playing out the older sister or "kind" parent. But that doesn't mean she won't eliminate any possible threat to the child. Don't underestimate her.

Morning: How are mornings spent with them?

When she wakes up before you, she lies still while you sleep. Maybe she's just thinking about something, or maybe she might be staring right at you. Maybe she's staring at you while she's thinking about something? As soon as she realizes you're about to wake up, she'll wake you up looking like she just got up and is bored.

When you wake up first, it's all up to you. Watch her, and Jinx will definitely be embarrassed about it after waking up. Wake her up, and Jinx will make a displeased face, only to relax you and attack you with a pillow from behind. Fall asleep again, and Jinx will beat you to it.

It won't be boring.

Night: How are nights spent with them?

Depends on Jinx's condition.

If she was even a little restless, the night would be the same. Jinx would wake up and unwittingly wake you. She's sorry; she didn't mean to.

If everything is fine, she sleeps like a hibernating bear. It seems as if even a nuclear explosion could not wake her up.

Open: When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?

Talking about your feelings is a real problem for Jinx, let alone her past. Most likely, you already know a lot thanks to rumors in the city. Jinx will not comment on this in any way.

However, time goes by, and you have already been there more than once in the shittiest moments, opened your soul to her in the most difficult moments, and saved her in the most dangerous. The truth about her is the least she owes you.

Jinx starts slowly, from afar, and as if it's not about her at all. And then the story will get deeper and deeper, and you'll see not Jinx but Powder. After that, you'll be truly close.

Patience: How easily angered are they?

Very easy. A few careless words, and she's furious. Don't worry, Jinx won't hurt you. But she and the others may well suffer. She knows that you didn't wish her any harm, but she can't restrain herself.

Quizzes: How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?

Jinx knows and remembers absolutely everything. For her, every little thing about you is important and valuable. She never knows where and why it might be useful to her, but she is sure that this is important knowledge. Secrets that she will not share.

Remember: What is their favorite moment in your relationship?

Every moment when she thinks, "I knew I was right about you."

One of those favorite moments was at the very beginning of your relationship. Some bastards were hunting her down and were damn close to catching her. When she was cornered, you showed up as their partner. You gloated and laughed, shook their hands, and even pointed a gun at Jinx. And all this in order to destroy these bastards. It was cruel, dirty, and instructive.

No more such gangs were formed.

She loves you so much.

Security: How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?

You won't find a more reliable partner. Jinx will save you at any cost; she is simply unstoppable. She has no fear and no limits when it comes to safety. Zaun does not forgive mistakes.

However, Jinx has never asked and will never ask you for protection. You have saved her many times, and yet she is still convinced that you are fragile and definitely cannot cope on your own.

When it comes to a real fight, Jinx will forget about all the nonsense.

Try: How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

Jinx will pretend that all this is nonsense and that she doesn't care about such trivial things. And then she will invest herself in it as if it is the last thing she will do in her life.

Ugly: What would be some bad habits of theirs?

Blow up anything and anyone.

Vanity: How concerned are they with their looks?

She doesn't care.

Of course, she won’t let herself get to the point of becoming a lump of dirt, but she’s indifferent to anything that doesn’t concern hygiene.

Whole: Would they feel incomplete without you?

Yes, and this is actually tragic.

Jinx tends to get attached to someone and build a very strong bond with them. When you're not around, she's not complete; everything seems to fall out of her hands. Everything that was perfect before doesn't work, and things that Jinx was confident in before are called into question.

She just needs to know how you'll react to anything before making any decisions; Jinx feels empty.

Xtra: A random headcanon for them.

You will definitely get small matching tattoos on your wrists, neck, or stomach. Jinx will be in the most visible place of your bodies. 

She lets you paint her bombs and guns. It's personal to her.

Yuck: What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?

Lies. In any form.

Jinx can't trust herself, so what's she supposed to do if she can't trust you? Even if it's a small thing, don't lie to her. It could become too big.

Zzz: What is a sleep habits of theirs?

Lie down on her, or Jinx will throw all her limbs at you. Don't even think about dodging or moving away; she will grab you tighter.

It helps her feel calmer.

Jinx loves you.

Thank you.

[runnning-outof-time]

The Brother That Always Wins | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @kpopgirlbtssvt

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader, with hints of John Shelby and Arthur Shelby trying their hand at flirting with the reader

Summary: (Y/N) is oblivious to the fact that three of the most powerful men in Birmingham are interested in her. When it's all said and done though, the brother that always wins, wins.

Warnings: language, drinking, terribly written flirting

Word Count: 4350

A/N: this story turned into an absolute ride, one that I enjoyed much more than I thought I would. It’s a bit of controlled chaos…I hope you’re ready for it. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message Me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"The fuck are you grinnin' for?" John Shelby asked as soon as his brother, Arthur entered the snug. He couldn't help himself, his older sibling's grin was able to be seen from a mile away.

"I just helped the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen in me life," Arthur proudly answered, his chest jutting out slightly as he spoke.

"Helped in what way, eh?" Tommy questioned, his one eyebrow raised. He'd been reading the newspaper and keeping to himself, only half-listening as John talked away about whatever, but he couldn't deny that he was interested in what Arthur had to say.

"I bet you he just stood there and gawked at her!" John chimed in before Arthur could respond, a smug grin on his face.

"I did not!" Arthur snapped back at his younger sibling, sending a glare his way, "I had a bloody conversation with her and all!"

"What happened?" Tommy asked another question, slowly losing his patience as he waited.

"So she was walkin' with a box, right? A big ass box...one that's too big for a lady like her to be carryin’. But she was walkin' with it. And so I was watchin' her from across the road, because she was goin' the same way I was. We must've walked for some time, how long I don't remember. Anyways, she gets to this one stretch and she trips...loses her fuckin' balance or something. All of the things in the box go flyin'. So I did what any man does and ran 'cross the street to help her. We put all the shit back into the box and then when she looked up at me, I thought I was gonna die on the spot. She was so fuckin' beautiful, lads. Shy, and sweet, and just fuckin'...gorgeous. I swear to you that if she would've..."

"Get on with the story, Arthur," Tommy interjected into Arthur's tangent, making him snap out of the attraction-riddled daze that he was quickly slipping into.

"Yeah, right," Arthur nodded, shaking his head slightly as he tried to recall where he was. "She was actin' so shy and thankin' me for helpin' her clean the stuff up that I couldn't but just be, fuckin'..."

"Arthur," Tommy said in a warning tone.

"I'm gettin' on with it," he brushed his brother off before continuing, "I couldn't help but not want to leave her. So I asked her where she was goin' and she said to the school. That was out of my way, but I didn't fuckin' care. I carried her things to the school she went on with thankin' me again. She was so fuckin' gorgeous and...shit, boys, I think I might be in love," he finished up his story, continuing on with it despite the scoffs or stiffled laughter coming from his brothers.

"You said she was going to the school?" John asked a question once it was clear that Arthur was finished with his story.

"Yeah...she's a fuckin' teacher, mate. Even better," Arthur grinned.

"Did you get her name?" John asked another question.

"Course I did!" Arthur responded like it was obvious.

Silence fell in the snug then, the three men looking between each other. John waited on bated breath for a few moments before it became obvious that Arthur wasn't going to say it without being prompted. "What was it?"

"(Y/N), I think it was," Arthur recalled, his answer making John choke out a weird sound, one that seemed to be a mixture of a scoff and a laugh. "What?"

"She's Katie's fuckin' teacher, mate!" John exclaimed, his declaration making Arthur's eyes widen. "She is fuckin' gorgeous, I'll tell you that," he then agreed with Arthur, a wide grin now plastered across his face.

John and Arthur then went about talking about her after Arthur prompted his younger sibling to tell him all that he knew about her. Tommy sat in his chair, half reading the paper and half listening to their conversation. He couldn't deny that he was intrigued by his brothers' stories, and everything they said about her made him want to go and meet her for himself even more.

"Can I help you?" (Y/N) (Y/L/N) asked the man that she swore appeared in her doorway out of nowhere. He was dressed in an expensive looking three-piece suit with an equally as expensive looking overcoat over top of it, as well as a peaked cap atop his head.

"I'm looking for (Y/N)," the man answered.

"You found her," (Y/N) smiled, setting her book down on the desk to give the man her full attention. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I was directed to you by the front office. They said you're in charge of the donations?"

"That depends...if you're looking to donate to the building, you'll need to speak with our headmaster, but if you're looking to donate directly to the children, you can speak to me," she explained with a smile. She was proud to have been named the head of the board that made sure the children in the school had the tools they needed in order to thrive in the learning environment.

"I'm looking to donate to the children."

"Then you're in the right place," she chirped, "you can come over here and we'll get into the details of it," she said then, waving him over to her desk.

He finally entered the room, and as he walked over, (Y/N) felt the commanding aura that swirled around him. It wasn't one that made her scared, but rather one that filled her with intrigue.

"Can I have the name for the donation?" she asked once she had a piece of paper and a pencil ready.

"It's Thomas Shelby," he answered her, watching as realization sparked in her eyes. He couldn't help but think that Arthur was absolutely right - for once in his life...she was absolutely gorgeous.

"Shelby? I have a student whose last name is Shelby."

"Katie?" Tommy questioned, even though he already knew who she was talking about.

"Yes!" (Y/N) happily answered, "Katie's such a lovely girl. Who is she to you?" she couldn't help but ask.

"She's my niece," he shared, his words making her nod in understanding.

"What sort of donation would you like to make, Mr. Shelby?" she asked then, the pencil ready in her hand.

"I'd like to make it so that all of the children in the year you teach have whatever they need to excel in their classes," he answered, speaking in a nonchalant tone.

"Oh...my goodness," she gasped, stopping what she was writing as the weight of his statement finally clicked in her mind.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, it's just that..." she trailed off, unable to put her thoughts properly into words, "no one has made such a generous donation before."

"I like to make sure that others benefit from the wealth I've gained," he told her in an assured tone. Well that was one of the reasons why he'd made such a donation.

"I...uh, goodness, I don't even know where to start," she confessed, still genuinely baffled by his generosity. "Usually I'd go through with the person donating and we'd make a list of where the funds can be allocated, but with your overwhelming donation, I'm not sure I know what to do first," she added, a sheepish smile present on her face when she looked up at him again.

"It's nothing you'd need to have done in a hurry," he told her, showing that he wasn't upset by her unsuredness.

"I'd hate to waste your time now and make you wait..." she trailed off, biting on the end of the pencil as she tried to think of some ways his funds could be used.

Spending time with you would not be time wasted, Tommy thought to himself just as an idea came to mind: "what if we go for dinner at the end of the week? You can have time to think of ideas and you'll share them with me then," he proposed, his eyebrows raising slightly as he awaited her response.

(Y/N) took a moment to think about his proposition. It'd certainly be a good idea for her to have more time to think about it, and she couldn't say that she'd be opposed to having dinner with this man. "Dinner sounds nice," she gave her answer after a few moments had passed, "I'll come prepared with good ideas," she assured him with a smile.

"I'm sure whatever ideas you'll bring will interest me," Tommy told her, nodding once before he took a step back towards the door.

"Thank you, Mr. Shelby. It's a great pleasure to have you working with us," (Y/N) smiled, still truly overwhelmed by his generosity.

"The pleasure's mine, (Y/N)," he couldn't help but let a smile break onto his lips as he looked over her one last time. They said their goodbyes then, and Tommy exited the school. He was genuinely pleased with the fact that she'd agreed to have dinner with him. It was certainly a step in the right direction with her.

John Shelby entered the school that his children attended two days after his brother did. He was unsuccessful in finding someone who could help direct him to the room he wanted to visit, but thankfully found the woman he was looking for as she walked towards the main doors from down a hallway.

"Miss (Y/L/N)!" he called to her, hoping to get her attention.

To his luck, she heard him. "Can I help you?" she asked with a smile, one that made John feel like he was going to go weak at the knees.

"Yes. You're my daughter's teacher. Her name's Katie Shelby. I wanted to ask how she's been doing in class," he told her the reason behind him being there. Truthfully he couldn't care less about Katie's performance. School wasn't something he was ever interested in, but if it meant he'd be able to talk to an utterly gorgeous woman, he'd give the performance of the century.

"Oh Katie!" (Y/N) answered, her smile growing wider as she recalled one of her students, "she's amazing...such a pleasure to have in class. She's always working hard and staying on top of her assignments," she then gave him a run down on his daughter's performance.

John nodded as she spoke. He had no shame in the fact that he was only half listening to her answer; being too preoccupied with drinking in her appearance. Silence fell between them then as that topic of conversation passed quickly. John didn't want her to leave just yet, so he scrambled for another talking point. "I heard that you met my brother, Arthur, the other day," he said then. It wasn't his best choice of topic, but he hoped it would keep her around. His hopes fell when a look of confusion formed on her pretty face. Shit, John...save yourself here! "He, uh...he told me that he helped you with one of your boxes...?" he ended his statement like it was a question, hoping that she'd show some sort of recollection.

Realization did appear on her face, but the sentence that accompanied it was one that left John confused: "oh...it seems I've met two of your brothers," she informed him, effectively making him wear the same expression she had moments ago. She took the time to explain then: "Thomas came in a few days ago to arrange a generous donation to aid the children who come here."

Fucks sake. John couldn't help but sigh internally. Tommy had already sunk his paws into the territory John thought he'd have a leg up in. "Oh he did?" he decided to play it cool, hoping that his aggravation didn't bubble up to the surface.

"He did. The other teachers and I are all so thankful for the contribution," (Y/N) answered, her smile telling John that he was doing well at masking how he was really feeling.

"Well I'm happy to hear that," John stated, running a hand over his face as he tried to think of a way to divert the conversation away from Tommy. "I can't say enough how happy I am that my daughter has a wonderful, smart, caring teacher like yourself," he said then, deciding to go the compliment route. There were many other things he wanted to include while referring to her, but he didn't want to overdo it.

"Awe thank you, Mr. Shelby. As I've said before, Katie is such a pleasure to have in class," (Y/N) accepted the compliment with grace, a bashful smile forming on her face.

Silence fell around them for a few beats before John spoke again: "you're probably wantin' to get home, so I should probably go," he stated, nodding his head back towards the main doors of the school.

"Oh yes, it's certainly been a long day," she answered with a nod.

"I'll see you around sometime then," John began to say his goodbyes.

"You certainly will," (Y/N) sent him one last smile before John turned and exited the school.

John was thankful to see the majority of his family sitting around the main table of the betting shop when he entered it that evening.

"Where've you been, John Boy?" Arthur asked, everyone's eyes following John as he made his way to an open chair.

"I just left the school," John answered, his face straight as he spoke.

"The school?" Arthur questioned.

"Something happen with one of the children?" Polly asked, her brows furrowed.

"No, everything's fine with them," John quelled her concern.

"Why were you at the school then?" Polly asked another question.

"Ah I know...you were tryin' to see the hot teacher, huh?" Arthur chimed in before John could answer, a grin now present on his face.

John shot a glare in his brother's direction, slightly annoyed by the fact that he was a little too anxious to know. But with all of the eyes in the room on him, he figured he may as well give up. "Yeah, I went to see her."

"Did ya talk to her?" Arthur eagerly asked.

John didn't miss Polly's eyeroll before he answered his brother: "yeah, I did...and I was told that Tommy already went and talked to her." He couldn't help but glance at Tommy from the corner of his eye, seeing if his statement roused any type of reaction from him.

"Why would you have gone to talk to the childrens' teacher, Thomas?" Polly was the one to ask, her eyes now zeroed in on him.

"She told me that he wanted to make a donation to the school," John offered more information, a sour tone still present in his voice.

"Tommy," Polly sighed, bringing her hand up to her forehead.

"We've arranged to have dinner one of these upcoming evenings to discuss it further," Tommy nonchalantly shared more details of his meeting with (Y/N).

"Bloody hell, Tommy," Arthur grumbled, a frown on his face as he shook his head. He'd have no chance in hell with her now.

"Why was this not brought up in a family meeting?" Polly asked a sensible question, seemingly unaware of the brothers' reason behind their responses.

"Because I have decided that we need to start putting back into the city," Tommy answered, an authoritative tone laced into his voice.

"And you thought that the school would be the most logical place to start?" she quirked an eyebrow.

"Why not?"

"You're putting yourself into places you shouldn't be...if this blows up in your face, I won't be here for it," Polly spoke in a firm tone, showing her distaste for his decision.

Tommy held his gaze on her, an uninterested look present in his eyes. He didn't quite care what his aunt had to say about this, he was going to continue on how he saw fit.

Polly held his gaze, waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, she rolled her eyes and let out a scoff before turning and stalking over to the door. She stopped before she could grab the handle, abruptly turning to look at the three men sitting at the table. "If any of you make her cry or so much as hurt a single strand of hair on her head..." she paused, pursing her lips as she shook her head slightly, "you will have hell to pay." Her voice was flat, but her tone was serious, and she let no one respond before she opened the door and exited the betting shop.

"Ms. Gray, it's so nice to see you again," (Y/N) said with a smile as she found the older woman standing in the doorway of her classroom. "Is everything ok with Katie? We missed her in class today."

"Katie's fine," Polly quelled the teacher's worry, "she was feeling ill so she stayed home."

"Oh, ok. I hope she gets better soon," (Y/N) offered her regards with a smile, one that Polly reciprocated. "Is there something that you need?"

"Yes," Polly didn't beat around the bush, "my nephew, Tommy, came to speak with you the other day..." she began, trailing off in hopes that (Y/N) would continue.

"Yes, he did!" she took the bait without question, "he made a very generous donation, and then suggested we have dinner to work the smaller points of it out."

"And how did that go?" Polly asked with raised eyebrows.

"Very well," (Y/N) smiled in response, "the children are already benefiting from the money he's given. It was very kind of him to do this."

Nothing Tommy Shelby has done was done just for the sake of 'being kind', Polly thought to herself as she mentally scoffed at the younger woman's statement. "I'm happy to hear that the children are benefitting from it," Polly said in response, keeping her thoughts on her nephew's intentions to herself.

(Y/N) smiled in response, completely overjoyed by the kindness of the Shelby family that she was oblivious to even the mere thought of Tommy having other intentions behind his decision to donate. Nothing else was said then as the women exchanged parting words.

(Y/N) smoothed out her dress as she reached the doors of the establishment. She hoped that the outfit she chose didn't make her over, or under, dressed for the occasion. With a deep breath, she grabbed the handle and opened the door, the sounds of chatter and music smacking her in the face. She entered the pub with a smile, hoping to quickly find a familiar face.

Of course one of the Shelbys quickly found her at the door. It was their re-opening party after all, and a beautiful woman like (Y/N) was most certainly not going to go unnoticed.

"Oi, you came!" Arthur was the first of the brothers to spot her, and a big grin was plastered across his face as he moved over to greet her.

"Yes! This place looks lovely!" she answered, smiling as she looked around the room.

"We made sure to get the best of the best," he boasted, his grin still present. "And speakin' of the best...can I offer one of the best women I've seen a drink?" he smoothly transitioned, his one eyebrow raised as he looked at her.

"I'd love one, thank you," she answered, smiling at his kindness.

"Come on then," he stated, offering her his arm so that he could lead her to the bar.

She accepted it, walking over to an open seat so that he could go around the bar and get her a drink. She thanked him again when he set it down in front of her, and just as he leaned up against the bar, ready to chat with her, Isiah came to him with a matter of business. He left her with a slight frown and an 'excuse me, love,' before going off with the younger man. (Y/N) sat by herself, sipping her drink and enjoying the revelry around her. She wasn't alone for long though.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)...I didn't think I'd see you here," shock was present in John Shelby's voice as he came up beside her.

"I decided to stop in and see what all of the talk was about," she smiled at him.

"Well we're certainly happy to have you here," he grinned at her, trying so hard not to give her a once over. "Say why don't you come and share a dance with me?" he suggested.

"Oh, I couldn't," she turned down his offer, her shyness creeping in.

"Come on...a quick dance wouldn't hurt," he didn't quite give up hope.

"I'm rather terrible at dancing."

"You've not seen me dance then."

(Y/N) bit her lip to conceal her giggles, surprised with how forward he was.

"Come on..." John coaxed her, hand outstretched in her direction. She was hesitant, but accepted it, allowing him to lead her to the floor. "Just follow my lead and you'll be fine," he said, assuming the position before he began to lead her in a similar dance to what the other partygoers were doing.

(Y/N) couldn't help but smile as she danced around the floor with John. She certainly was having fun, not really thinking about what she looked like or what others thought. John couldn't believe that he was dancing with one of the most beautiful women in the room.

They danced for about two songs before (Y/N) excused herself, wanting to go have a seat. John allowed her to go, deciding that he'd go into the snug and check on Finn - who he knew was sneaking stronger drinks than what his brothers originally told him he could have.

(Y/N) found a newly opened seat at the bar as soon as she came to it. She was bummed that her drink had been lost, but she didn't need to worry about that for too long.

"You made it," Tommy Shelby's voice came from her left, making her turn slightly to see him approaching her from behind the bar.

"I did, thanks for inviting me," (Y/N) smiled at him, "this party's amazing!" she commented, glancing around the room.

"It is," Tommy agreed once she focused on him again, "can I get you something to drink?"

"Please," she smiled kindly at the offer, watching as he went about grabbing a bottle from the shelf. "I wanted to also thank you, again, for the dinner and the donation. The children have already gotten some of the supplies that we've received, and they're loving them," she shared some information once he came back with a glass for her.

"That's good news," he nodded, taking a drink from his glass then. "You know I was thinking maybe...maybe you and I could have dinner again, without the need to talk about the donations this time," he proposed, watching her intently as he waited for a response.

(Y/N) couldn't stop her eyes from lighting up at his suggestion. She had a lovely time with him at their first dinner. "I'd like that," she answered with a smile.

"Figured we could get to know each other better."

"That would be lovely," she agreed, giggling slightly at the fact that he was practically reading her mind.

The two then went about planning the dinner, agreeing on a time and place. (Y/N) couldn't help but feel giddy when he suggested a restaurant that was far more classy than the first place they'd met. If she wasn't excited before...she certainly was now.

As they spoke more, Polly Gray kept a close eye on them from across the room. She'd been watching the brothers all evening as they tried their hand at her. It became clear to her, though, that Tommy had ended out on top as she watched them converse at the bar. She could easily tell from how (Y/N) was invested in their conversation, giggling and leaning closer to him when he'd speak, that what he was doing was being received well. John and Arthur wouldn't have much of a chance now.

-One Year Later-

Slowly, Tommy lifted the veil up to reveal (Y/N)'s smiling face. He draped it over her head and let his eyes dance across her features, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he felt the joy radiating from her.

"We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) and Thomas Michael Shelby," the officiant began, commanding the attention of everyone in the church.

Ever since the evening of the party at the Garrison, (Y/N) and Tommy found themselves wrapped up in a whirlwind of a romance. Tommy proposed after five months of them being together, knowing that he wasn't going to find another woman like her. They spent five months being engaged and doing a great amount of traveling - it was the summer holiday for (Y/N), so she was able to follow Tommy wherever he went. Now they were standing at the altar in front of a great number of guests who were anxiously waiting to see them pronounce their love for each other.

Well...two of the guests weren’t exactly anxious. John and Arthur sat on Tommy's side of the church, watching as the ceremony commenced. Both were happy for their brother, but they'd be lying if they said that they weren't bummed that it wasn't them up with (Y/N).

Everyone stood up and celebrated as the officiant pronounced Tommy and (Y/N) 'man and wife', and they shared their first kiss as a married couple.

"As always..." John started, elbowing Arthur in the ribcage as they both clapped for their brother, "Tommy gets the girl, and we've gotta sit back and watch."

Arthur couldn't help but snort as he heard what John had to say. "You're right, John boy," he agreed, shaking his head but nonetheless continuing clapping.

No matter what happened, or how hard John and Arthur tried to get ahead, Tommy would forever be the brother that always wins.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[lightseoul]

hi! please could you do number 7 with the mc having a ghost-related quirk??

decided to quickly write this one just in time for halloween! i hope y'all enjoy this little piece amidst the boop war we all find ourselves in right now lol. thank you for playing n have a nice day <3

(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)

7. "THE GHOSTS WOULD DISAGREE WITH YOU." (1.3k)

“you’re a fucking weirdo, you know that?”

you don’t even look up from the churro you’re munching on, opting to ignore the ash-blonde sitting right next to your left.

“what,” he continues, and if you didn’t know any better, he’s starting to sound a little annoyed. “you’re not even gonna defend yourself?”

what you’re not about to do is tell him you’ve heard that taunt over and over again growing up, lest you end up seeming pitiful, which you aren’t.

so you merely shrug. “i don’t see the point. i know it’s not true.”

at that, you finally glance at the man, who’s looking nothing short of speechless under the dim light of the lounge that’s decked out with ‘spooky’ embellishments.

cute is the first thing that comes to mind.

he just fucking insulted you is the next.

still, you can’t help the smile that takes over your features. “you’re the weird one, anyway. why would you say that to your date?”

bakugou promptly breaks eye contact, choosing to stare at the human skeleton that’s conveniently parked at the corner of the room. you follow his line of vision, and you have to stop yourself from snorting at the sight.

the people manning this haunted house-themed attraction sure took budget decorating to the next level.

beside you, the pro-hero huffs. “i’m only saying that because this is your idea of a good first date,” he gestures vaguely to your surroundings, an incredulous expression on his face as he tosses you a pointed look. “a horror escape room? really?”

“what?” you say, trying to sound the slightest bit defensive for the sake of it. “it gives us plenty of excuses to get closer.”

whatever bakugou expected you to say in response, it surely wasn’t that.

the man only splutters, quickly diverting his gaze and plopping back against his seat with his muscled arms folded across his broad chest like a petulant child.

he then mutters something that you wouldn’t have caught for the life of you if it weren’t for the thing.

you grin.

“you wanted me to latch onto you for safety? you could’ve just said so.”

almost instantaneously, bakugou whips to stare at you, an absolutely horrified expression etched all over his face.

“what the fuck?”

you flash him the most innocent look you can muster. “what?”

he’s now glaring at you, but there’s no missing the redness that has crept up the high planes of his cheeks. he opens his mouth as if to say something but hesitates. he tries again, gaze fixated on you for a couple more seconds until he shakes his head in disbelief.

“…there’s no fucking way.”

you shrug again, but bakugou only stares at you, eyes squinting in suspicion. “unless…”

and, in a blink of an eye you almost could’ve missed it if you weren’t staring at him yourself, you see profound realization dawn on his features.

you gulp despite yourself.

“you have a fucking quirk?”

the truth must have been written all over your exterior, because the man leans back in slow motion like the way one would when faced with a relatively shocking revelation.

you rub at the back of your neck, suddenly feeling too self-conscious. this was the part that always made you feel uncomfortable, no matter what the context.

but especially during a first date.

“i never said i was quirkless…”

“yeah, no shit,” he retorts, not missing a single bit. “what is it, superior hearing or something?”

you shake your head slowly, “no, but it does make me privy to things that i don’t perceive with my own senses.”

bakugou’s eyebrows furrow in what you think is confusion. “what else?”

“uh—” you pause, eyes drifting down to your fiddling fingers, “—i can also levitate, be invisible, and permeate through things.”

when he doesn’t say anything for a moment, you finally chance a glance at the man, and he’s looking honest-to-god gagged.

pro-hero dynamight is fucking gagged and it’s because of you.

before he can get a word in, though, you quickly follow it up with: “but they make me so nauseous that i can barely pull them off. they’re useless, really.”

when you’re met with nothing but silence, you continue.

“i know,” you chuckle, although it comes out awkward and stilted. “it’s weird. you’re right, after all. i was just messing with you.”

more silence.

not knowing what else to do or say, you take a huge bite of your pastry, although you’re far from hungry, stomach now churning in embarrassment.

you’re in the middle of chewing the remnants of your last bite when bakugou finally speaks up.

now, you’ve heard about how the #9 pro-hero, despite his aggression and temper and generally unpleasant personality, is exceptionally intelligent, perceptive, and intuitive, but you never really thought much about it.

not even when you found out a few hours earlier that the blind date your friends set you up with was your distant superior dynamight himself.

and while you always had a thing for capable men, you didn’t want to fall early and hard lest you hurt yourself in the process. so you merely pushed back against the prejudices and expectations you had of him, and decided to just observe the person who was actually in front of you for the rest of your date.

but when he says the next thing, everything you’ve heard about him suddenly makes sense.

“…so it’s a ghost quirk.”

you don’t even get the opportunity to choke on your churro or gape at him because bakugou shakes his head so fervently, before: “that’s such a fucking waste.”

“e-excuse me?”

at your query, he locks eyes with you. “you have a strong-ass quirk, yet you’re working in admin for us. you could be doing more.”

a thousand questions fight to escape your lips, but what manages to emerge victorious is: “how’d you know i’m working admin for ground riot?”

bakugou scowls at you, but again, there’s that scarlet on his cheeks. he doesn’t answer your question, though, instead going for: “that’s your fucking takeaway?”

you shrug, not knowing what else to say. “i know my quirk is strong. but i was always made to feel like i was weird and creepy for it growing up—and until now, actually, which is why i don’t really talk about it—so i just learned not to use it.”

“well, most of it,” you add, and bakugou cocks his head to the side in question.

you take a shaky inhale.

“…ghosts still choose to talk to me.”

“that how you pick up on things beyond your five senses?”

you try not to gawk at him and at how fast he put two and two together. “…yeah.”

neither of you says anything for a few moments before bakugou finally shifts in his seat, rolling his shoulders back.

as he does so, he pipes up with: “well, i guess they’re not always accurate, though.”

you frown. although you rarely use your quirk, you still pride yourself in your capacity. “what do you mean?”

at that, bakugou turns to regard you, an unidentifiable expression on his face. “i did not want you to latch onto me.”

this time, you really can’t help it. you snort, and that grants you a glower from the pro-hero. you take it in stride, though, waving him off.

“sure, big guy.”

“don’t—” he sits up, “fucking—i’m serious—”

“yeah, but the ghosts—” he throws you a punch, which you dodge, “would disagree—” you dodge another, “ with you—” he barely misses you, “—though,” you finally finish.

and really, you don’t even need your trusty ghosts to know that—the blush that’s taken over the entirety of his face is all the proof you need.

[erodasfishtacos]

Conflict of Interests (roommatesbf!h)

prompt: yn knows that she has a bit of a crush on her roommate/friend's bf but until an opportunity is put in her lap, she tries her best to resist.

word count: 9k

warnings: not necessarily infidelity yet but there's some shady business, mff, fxf

author's note:

There is 3 more parts to this up on patreon.

I upload a piece of writing every 1-3 days.

I recently started a second tier called The OG Tier where 2-3 one shots (1-4kish) are posted a week.

There are currently 350 + pieces available to read

Tier I - $3 USD where you get access to main stories, everything except the mini one shots.

Tier II - $5 USD where you get access to every piece of writing!

you can check it out here!

++ YN was pretty open, easy to say ‘yes’, and take risk but she wasn’t careless.

She weighed the reward versus the consequence, trying to make as much of an informed decision as she can before jumping in the metaphorical deep-end.

However, she had absolutely miscalculated and found herself reaping the consequences of her actions.

A ruined friendship, an empty second bedroom because said friend had moved out, and a few of their friends who were taking sides.

They weren’t on hers.

YN should have said ‘no’, at the time she knew she shouldn’t have, it would lead to nothing good because of how YN actually felt about Harry.

+

YN and Kay had been friends for years, meeting in senior year of high school when Kay had to transfer schools because of her father getting a job change.

They hit it off right away, deciding to room in college together, and now they had moved from a tiny dorm to more of a spacious apartment.

Kay and YN have lived together for three years at this point, they rarely had any issues, an occasional stolen yogurt or leaving laundry in the washer but nothing that shook the foundation of their friendship.

Until Harry walks into their lives.

Well quite literally walks into her bedroom while she’s getting dressed.

YN was going out to dinner with her family, her brother was in town and they were meeting at an Italian restaurant a few blocks down.

It was a fancier restaurant which meant that YN was buzzing around her room and connecting bathroom, hair and makeup done except for lipstick and hairspray.

YN had her high-waisted trousers already buttoned snugly against her hips but was trying to find a shirt that worked well with the dressy bottoms.

YN had a strapless bra on but the shirt she finds that she wants to wear looks better without, she tosses the shirt on the bed, and unclasps her bra.

She had just tossed it to the side, to put away later when her door opened.

It doesn’t initially alarm her, Kay has a tendency to not knock or generally respect the idea of privacy so when YN turns to see what she wants.

However, it is not Kay.

It is a man.

A stupidly attractive man whose eyes become as wide as saucers, his big baseball mit of a hand smacks over his eyes to cover them, and starts rambling an apology.

“Who the fuck are you?” YN screeches as she reaches for the first thing she can find, her fleece throw as she holds it over her chest, heart pounding.

“M’so fucking sorry, I-“ The man’s voice is low, a deep drawl and a bit morbid as he keeps his eyes covered with a tattooed hand.

“What’s going on?” Kay appears in the doorway, a smirk tweaking at the corner of lips, “Harry, I told you the door on the left.”

“This is the door on the left,” Harry replies in a higher pitch, which was still ridiculously deep as he stands there, trying to stay as still as a statue.

“Oh shit, I meant my left,” Kay giggles as she moves to tug at his elbow which he very resistantly starts to let her move his face covering, “She’s decent now.”

Harry blinks a few time, his cheeks were twinged a bright pink akin to the tone of bubblegum as he meets YN’s eye sheepishly.

“I am so sorry,” Harry apologizes again, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets, he was handsome - even if this sounded awful, completely out of Kay’s league.

It wasn’t that Kay wasn’t pretty, she was but Harry could have just walked out of some expensive cologne advert even in his jeans and black tee.

His tattoos were dark, no color to be found and it’s a contrast against his tanned skin like he had just been on a vacation with the golden tint.

“It’s okay. It’s completely Kay’s fault,” YN tries to crack a joke, easing the tension because though YN was actually quite proud of her body, she liked her breasts and didn’t mind who saw them - most of the time.

YN still managed to feel self-conscious about what Harry had thought because he looked like that and she felt a weird jolt of butterflies about it.

“But doesn’t she have the nicest pair of tits you’ve ever seen?” Kay nudges Harry, wrapping her hand around his massive bicep as best she can.

“Kay,” YN scolds as she holds the blanket closet, feeling super bare now.

“I’m just saying! I can’t help but stare when I see them,” Her friend shrugs, she had the tendency to be crude, crass, and frankly too much.

Harry has his bottom lip tucked between his two front teeth, eyes now not making contact with YN’s, “C’mon, Kay. Stop embarrassing her. It was an accident and I don’t want to objectify her.”

YN is oddly touched by his respectfulness, she felt like most guys would just openly agree with Kay which would have made her feel uncomfortable.

“Thank you,” YN replies, voice softer and the gaze she shares with Harry feels unusually intense before she’s clearing her throat, “Um, I need to put a shirt on.”

“C’mon, let’s go,” Harry tugs Kay in the direction of the door with one more apologetic glance before he’s closing it behind him.

YN’s stomach does a weird flip, what the fuck.

7 months later +

Harry and Kay are dating.

Which YN is a bit, scratch that, a lot confused by because they just seem like the most unlikely match but not just looks-wise.

Harry is quiet, doesn’t really talk unless he’s asked a question or has something to add to the conversation but he does not speak just to speak.

He does subtle things that he thinks people do not notice and usually don’t (YN does)

The way he will close a cabinet right by YN’s head so she doesn’t accidentally bump into it as she cooks without saying anything.

If he knows YN has a late day at work, he turn on a lamp in the entryway so she doesn’t have to stumble around in the dark and she knows it’s him because Kay wouldn’t be that thoughtful.

Plus she caught him once, he had awkwardly shrugged and said that he didn’t want her tripping and getting hurt before disappearing back down the hall to Kay’s room.

YN has a smile for quite a few minutes after that.

+_+

Kay and Harry are not affectionate which is interesting.

Kay was handsy, typically clinging onto her boyfriend at any time, and their group of friends groaning about the obnoxious amount of PDA.

Not them.

Harry did small gestures here or there like squeeze her shoulder or put his hand on her back, rarely throw an arm over her shoulder at a restaurant or bar.

YN also didn’t hear them from the bedroom.

Kay didn’t have a volume control button, it didn’t take detective-like skills to tell when she was being intimate with someone because of the noise.

It made YN’s skin crawl because it was obvious that they were over-exaggerated, high-pitched moans that made her roll her eyes and couldn’t believe the guys she brought home believed they were real.

But no, YN heard nothing ever.

And Harry was constantly over, Kay had told YN that Harry’s housemate was a nightmare which had him trying to get out of the house as soon as possible.

Harry was just…perfect.

YN knows she shouldn’t been thinking that but he is the closest thing to perfection that she has ever seen or met without a doubt.

On top of his thoughtfulness, he listened and was actually paying attention, no phone in his face, no half ass agreements.

Meanwhile, YN witnesses Kay constantly on her phone while Harry was trying to have a conversation with her - nodding and say “mhm” without looking up.

YN could see the frustration that he’s trying to taper down but that’s when she’ll jump in to let him know that she was paying attention.

The dimples that appear in his cheeks are all the reward that she needs to know that she’s doing that right thing.

Her heart aches a bit because of the crush she wants to have on such an off-limits person, so she’ll push it into the back, the darkest crevice in her mind.

Harry would most likely be mortified to know the shit thay YN thought while he was just trying to be friendly.

It was just that she couldn’t get a ready in them as a couple and that was driving her a bit insane.

Well YN was actually questioning whether she was crazy because she had moment where she thought that Harry was actually going out of his way to do things for her than his own girlfriend.

Then the bathroom incident happens.

YN really, truly didn’t know that Harry was here.

She heard the shower running and assumed that it was Kay in there.

YN and Kay didn’t have much off-limits, it wasn’t out of the norm for her to pop into the bathroom to brush her teeth or pee when Kay was in there or vice versa.

So YN doesn’t think much of opening the bathroom door to grab her hairbrush she had left in there but only she was not met with what she expected.

It was a standing shower, with a glass door which meant there was no privacy for the person if someone came in and holy shit.

Harry was under the stream with his head tilted down, he was running a washcloth over his stomach and holy fuck, she didn’t realize how built he was.

She hadn’t seen him shirtless before, yes, she could gather that he was in shape by the way his biceps flexed or how defined his thighs were when he wore shorts but this was unreal.

YN’s eyes find the harsh vee that is tattooed with laurels, that is leading downwards towards…

“I’m sorry!” YN squeaks out, halfway into the bathroom and her hand extended towards her brush but her muscles lock and she’s frozen for a good half minute, “Oh my god, shit!”

Harry turns at the sound, confusion momentarily crossing his face but he doesn’t seem bothered, does nothing to try to cover himself.

YN was repeating over and over to herself to not look there but she couldn’t ignore that’s where her eyes went first, wanting to continue because he was thick, heavy, and he wasn’t even hard.

YN turns to leave but doesn’t realize that she has stepped on Harry’s discarded clothes which means her foot slips out from under her.

She attempts to steady herself by grabbing the countertop but it is just out of reach as a yelp exits her mouth, falling into a lump of limbs.

Her lip is throbbing because her teeth sliced through the thin skin when she accidentally bit down, her fingertips coming to press against where the blood begins to dribble.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry curses as he watches all of this go down in the span of a minute flat, he’s reaching to turn off the faucet before he’s stepping out.

YN cannot fully appreciate Harry in his dripping wet, tanned skin, naked glory because her eyes are foggy with fat tears of embarassment and pain.

Harry grabs his towel, wrapping it haphazardly around his waist, threatening to slip off at any minute when he kneels down.

“Darling, what on earth?” Harry rasps, his eyes tracing her over, his hand coming to cup the side of her face as he holds her still.

He picks up his discarded shirt, pressing the soft cotton to her lip with pressure to stop the bleeding, his voice was comforting and entirely sweet enough to give her a toothache.

“You’re okay, s’okay. Calm down f’me,” Harry coos softly, stroking her hair as the other keeps the shirt against her lip, “I know, I know.”

Just the small little reassurances were digging YN into a deep, treacherous dark hole because she’d never had a boyfriend who would baby her as much as he was doing.

And that’s when YN realizes it, Harry has been babying her the entire time he’s been with Kay, and he just doesn’t do the same for her.

YN was too frazzled to delve any deeper into that right now.

“I’m so sorry, I thought it was Kay in the shower. I am so so sorry-“ YN is trying to tell him through choked sobs, unable to blink the tears away fast enough.

“Stop apologizing, dove. You didn’t know, the tears are killing me though. I haven’t seen you cry before and it’s just as heartbreaking as I would imagine,” Harry frowns, he was still dripping and it was dampening YN’s clothes.

“My lip hurts,” YN huffs out with a edge of a whine, god, it was so easy for her to fall into this baby role with him and let him take care of her, “And I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life.”

“Why would you be embarrassed?” Harry asks as he dabs at her lip, checking to see how steady the flow of blood is before pressing it back.

“I just barged in on you showering and then ate shit, I’ve never had a worse moment of embarrassment,” YN informs him, her face felt hot and she had to stop herself from looking towards the split in his towel.

Jesus Christ, this was her friend's boyfriend and she was swooning like a girl with her first crush in elementary school - she needed to pull herself together.

“S’just me,” Harry murmurs softly, taking the shirt away and watching her mouth for a moment before sitting back, “Nothing to be embarassed by.”

YN and Harry make eye contact which makes her stomach flip in a way that it shouldn’t because he’s off limits but he’s nice and beautiful and naked.

YN swallows harshly as she fails to find a reply.

Harry takes his hand away which she misses as soon as it’s gone, standing up before reaching down to pull her up as well.

“Let me dry off, go change, and I’ll make us dinner, yeah?” Harry says as he brushes a strand of stray hair off of her forehead.

“Yeah,” YN agrees dumbly, hands still shaking and her heart felt like it had just run a marathon with how fast her blood was pumping through it.

“Will you be okay for a minute?” Harry is still checking, he’s a worrier and that much is obvious through his words and facial expression.

YN chuckles out a light snort, not her most attractive moment, “Or what, can I hold your hand and wait while you change?”

It was absolutely and completely meant to be a joke, a sarcastic quip because of course she was okay enough to walk to her bedroom.

Harry doesn’t smile, not really, his voice ever steady and morbid as he replies, “I don’t mind. S’nothing you haven’t seen before now. If it makes you feel better.”

YN throat tightens, the urge to flea was becoming stronger because he wasn’t being outwardly flirty, he was being kind but it still felt wrong - at least because YN was struggling to stay just friendly.

There was nothing in Harry’s words that were overtly sexual or persuasive, his demeanor didn’t give much of anything away either.

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” YN manages to tell him before scurrying out of the bathroom as fast as humanly possible.

Even more guilt came when she was undressing, resisting the urge to touch herself to the mental image of Harry stepping out of the shower.

Where the deep vee had lead into trimmed hair that got a bit darker, thicker around the base of his -

“Stop,” YN scolds herself as she tugs on new underwear.

Harry had made it a point not to objectify her when he accidentally saw her chest but YN was better than no man as her mind kept going back to the sheer size and beauty of Harry’s cock.

Anyways.

YN was a shit friend right now.

End of story.

YN takes a little bit longer than necessary to exit her room, feeling like she was doing a walk of shame when she enters the kitchen.

Harry was already chopping up veggies, a pot of water that wasn’t boiling just yet on the stovetop, and it was all very domestic.

YN walks up behind him, itching to put a hand of his back, rub over the lithe, bulky muscles there but instead drums her fingers against the countertop.

“Do you need any help?” YN asks, her voice sounded relatively back to normal by now.

Harry glances over at her, his smile faltering slightly as he puts down the knife, and brings his thumb to her bottom lip again.

“You really did a number on yourself, dove,” Harry tells her, displeased as he traces over the puffy skin, eyes still studying her face.

YN’s heart rate spikes up like she didn’t just spend the last twenty minutes trying to regulate so that she didn’t feel like she was going to pass out.

It was impossible for her to decipher right now if Harry was just genuinely an affectionate, touchy person or whether he was flirting with her.

Not once has YN seen Harry touch her in the same way he was doing to her now - delicate, careful like she was made of the most breakable china he’d ever held.

There’s a jostle at the front door, a key turning into the lock, and YN jumps back out of his hold as he drops his hand, picking up the knife once again.

YN sits down at the kitchen table instead of trying to help, unlocking her phone, and trying to dissociate at whatever pops up on her timeline.

“What is this?” Kay laughs when she walks in, dropping her purse on one of the chairs as she smiles at YN before walking over and wrapping her arms around Harry from the back.

Harry…doesn’t stop cutting the vegetables but does tilt his head to the side look at her, she leans up to kiss his cheek before peeking over his shoulder, “Stir-fry?”

“With shrimp,” Harry tacks on as he turns back from her to focus on his work, his demeanor wasn’t necessarily drastically different but still…different.

Kay didn’t seem disgruntled by his attitude as she rubs his back for a few moments which YN tries to not get jeaous about because it’s not her place to be.

Then she’s plopping down in the chair beside YN, “Sorry, I forgot to text you and tell you I picked up an extra shift. Harry didn’t get the memo until he was already here.”

YN glares at her friend, “I know. I thought you were home, showering, and barged into the bathroom. Only to invade Harry’s privacy.”

Kay lets out a peel of laughter, eyes twinkling and completely unbothered, “It’s even now, right?”

“Huh?” YN asks, not sure what she meant as Harry turns around after adding the lo mein noodles to the boiling water, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed.

There was slight amusement at the tilt of his lips.

“He saw your tits. You saw his dick,” Kay shrugs with another hearty laugh, “You’ve got amazing tits. He’s got an insane dick so-“

“Kay,” Harry cuts in, a bit curt and disapproving, “It was all an accident. We don’t need to go into detail about what we all looked like naked.”

“Well you’re both hot and I’ve seen both of you naked, maybe I’m feeling a little inferior. I have a bombshell best friend and the hottest boyfriend. It makes me feel like chopped liver.”

Kay was looking for validation, specifically in Harry but he was not feeding into her behavior, “Kay, this really isn’t appropriate. Let’s drop it.”

It was not a suggestion.

However, that’s how Kay saw it.

“I’m just bragging, H. Chill out. Does it not inflate your ego if I talk about how big your dick is?” Kay was immature, admittedly and no better than a crude man on her best days - her thought patterns more perverse and blunt than most females.

“Kay,” Harry’s voice is sharp, a tone YN hasn’t hear before as he puts down the knife, “Let’s go to your room for a minute.”

YN sits awkwardly at the table, any butterflies from the interaction with Harry earlier we’re completely gone because of this.

YN could heard Harry’s voice raise, he wasn’t shouting but it was louder than his normal range of volume which lead her to believe they were fighting.

Kay was immature, Harry couldn’t train that out of her, and that’s why YN was surprised when she went for someone like Harry because she usually dated boys younger than her by a year or two - they matched maturities better.

YN stands up, walking over, and taking it upon herself to continue to chop the veggies while politely trying to ignore any of their conversation.

When they walk back out a few minutes later, Harry comes up beside her, just slightly bumping his hip against hers, and saying quietly, “Thanks, sucha good helper.”

It should sound patronizing but it doesn’t, Kay isn’t in here yet, and YN wonders if he would have said that in front of her.

Kay comes back a few minutes later, mood the same, and clearly trying to act like she didn’t just get chewed out by Harry as she makes small talk about work.

+_

YN struggles to sleep that night. 

Her stomach was rumbling because she didn’t indulge in too much of the stir-fry that he had cooked because of the tension between the couple.

Kay was making passive aggressive jabs in her ever cheery cadence while Harry gave her a very serious look, jaw twitching as he harshly chewed.

YN hid out in her room for the rest of the night.

Now it was biting her in the ass because she was starving.

As YN pads out, she has to go through the living, not thinking much when she flips the switch so that the floor lamp in the corner will illuminate some of the space.

There’s movement that makes her jump.

Harry was on the couch, YN had clearly woken him up as he stretched, trying to blink and adjust to the light as he takes in a deep inhale.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” YN turns off the lamp quickly, basking them in darkness again and muttering, “I can find the kitchen without the light.”

YN then proceeds to bump her thigh extremely hard into the side corner of their end table before she’s toppling over for the second time that day.

“Fuck, pet,” Harry curses, his voice sounded different, thick with sleep and a rasp that made it sound like he was a smoker, “What are you doing?”

Harry leans over, turning on the lamp, and squinting until he sees her on the floor, concern crossing his face as he pushes himself off the couch, and knelt beside her.

YN has tears prickling in her eyes, that really fucking hurt, she had already busted her lip today, and god, she looked like such a fucking idiot.

Harry’s voice goes soft again, like he’s just found an injured baby animal, “Oh darling, c’mon. These tears are too much. S’heartbreaking.”

“I just-“ YN hiccups, clutching her thigh that’s pulsing with her heartbeat, “I keep embarrassing myself in front of you and I don’t know why. Plus, my thigh hurts.”

Harry’s frown deepens, “You never need to be embarassed around me. Two times I’ve given your a surprise, s’on me, really. Let’s go put some ice on that.”

Harry helps YN up, guiding her to the kitchen and she yelps when she feels his big hands on her waist, placing her on the kitchen counter.

She was very aware that she was only wearing a big shirt with no pants on, a soft very tame pair of gray panties, and she flushed further.

Harry grabs a bag of frozen green beans, wrapping it in a hand towel, and taking it upon himself to nudge her shirt up her leg until he can place it in the injury.

“Why were you sleeping on the couch?” YN asks while she holds the bag in place, ignoring the ache.

Harry leans against the counter, opposite her, “Kay and I weren’t getting along. I decided to sleep on the couch so that we could have some space.”

“If this is about earlier, about the shower thing-“ YN begins to apologize.

“No, no,” Harry shakes his head, sighing heavily as he runs his hand through his hair, “We’re going through a rough patch in general. We’re just trying to get through it. We’re different in a lot of ways, we butt heads a lot.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you can make things work,” YN replies softly, free hand picking at the raggedy hem of her shirt.

“Yeah,” Harry bites the corner of his lip, “Why are you awake?”

YN blinks at him, sheepish as she admits, “I’m hungry. Dinner was tense and I wanted to give you guys space. I didn’t eat enough.”

Harry’s expression becomes one of disapproval, “Pet, s’not a reason not to eat. Let me make you somethin’ as an apology.”

YN shakes her head, “You don’t have to do that. I can get something myself.”

“Please? It will make me feel better,” Harry insists, standing back up straight and scratching at his stomach, his hair a bit haywire.

He was so fucking attractive it was sickening.

And this man was sweet to her, offering to cook her meals, and exceeding any of her previous boyfriends - they weren’t even dating.

YN couldn’t determine whether Harry was flirting or just being kind, he didn’t treat Kay like this which was the off thing.

The exact opposite, it actually seemed cold and distant most of the time towards her, his patience limited and his mood dropped.

“Do you like pancakes?” Harry asks, already moving to the fridge to pull out ingredients, “I have a special recipe from my gran that makes ‘em extra fluffy.”

“I have an awful sweet tooth,” YN hides her eyes with her hand for a moment, “I’ll never say no to pancakes, especially if you add chocolate chips. You better be careful, I might fall in love.”

YN freezes because that was definitely not the best thing she could have said, her eyes go wide and lips part in her own surprise.

“I better make them with chocolate chips then,” Harry says casually as he turns to open the cabinet like YN didn’t just nearly have a heart attack nor like she didn’t have to squeeze her thighs together.

YN watches his back as he cooks, the defined muscles flexing when he stirs the batter.

“More,” YN orders from her seat on the counter, swinging her feet.

It felt horribly romantic when he turned around, a mixing bowl in the crook of his arm.

“No more, s’not a dessert,” Harry chides as he reaches over to sprinkle a few more into the mixture like he was easy for her.

“Thank you,” YN hums with a smile, she wishes it wasn’t late because soft music in the background would be even better.

When Harry pours two onto the hot pan, he doesn’t turn around and he keeps his voice steady, “I wouldn’t guess Kay and you would be friends.”

YN shouldn’t but she does, “I wouldn’t guess you and Kay would date.”

Harry shakes his head with a chuckle, “We are not very similar, are we?”

“No, usually Kay dates people very much like herself,” YN tells him, fingertips dancing against the countertop.

“Which is?”

YN bites her lip, trying to say it in the most gentle way, “I love her but she…marches to the beat of her own drum, she doesn’t take things too seriously, and can be reckless. She has a history of dating guys who are younger, don’t have their life planned out.”

Harry turns to look at her after flipping the pancakes, his eyes were intent but he didn’t seem offended by the words she spoke.

They weren’t meant to be offensive, they were the facts.

“And what am I?” Harry raises his eyebrow, “A too serious, stuck up prick?”

“Precisely,” YN grins wide enough that it takes up her entire face.

Harry narrows his eyes before they’re darting down to the bowl of batter.

“Harry, no,” YN laughs, trying to keep it down because Kay was sleeping and she really should be in her own room right now.

“Mm, I think so,” Harry swipes his finger in the mix before stalking forward.

YN had nowhere to run because she was still sat on the kitchen counter but she fruitlessly tries to scramble backwards. 

Harry’s hand comes to her ankle, wrapping around to hold her as he leans forward and swipes it across her cheek as she kicks weakly at him.

“There we go,” Harry smirks as he moves back, not taking his hand away from her ankle, thumb pressing right under the bone.

YN and Harry both get quiet, chests moving quickly from the struggles, and she’s never felt this much sexual tension before in her life.

Harry’s other fingers press in, she finds herself wishing that they would move upward, it would be easy because she didn’t have anything beside underwear on her lower half.

When YN lets her limbs relax, her leg falls more into his grip, toes bumping at his hip, and his hand moves further to his calf.

They both seem to snap out of it at the same time, Harry is letting go and clearing his throat as YN pulls her leg back.

He turns back to the pancakes, sliding them off pan and onto an awaiting plate.

Harry takes a minute before he’s turning around again, eyes the slightest bit unsure, and YN doesn’t want there to be any awkwardness.

To dissolve the tension, she swipes her thumb along her cheek before popping it in her mouth, “Could use more cinnamon sugar.”

“S’plenty sweet,” Harry grunts as he hands it to her.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to but I haven’t had pancakes in forever,” YN doesn’t use her fork, picking it apart with her fingers and dipping it in the syrup.

Harry turns off the stove, placing the pan and mixing bowl in the sink, running some sudsy water in it as YN eats happily, her thigh no longer hurting - she thanks the chocolate chips for that.

“You’re starting to get sleepy again, huh?” Harry murmurs as YN hands him the empty plate, she nods in agreement, and she slips off the counter, tossing the frozen bag back in the freezer.

“Thank you,” YN mumbles, rubbing at her eye.

“Let me check your leg first,” Harry tells her, kneeling down in front of her, and holy shit, that was a sight for sore eyes to have him blinking up at her, “Yeah? Okay?”

“Okay,” YN’s mouth was dry like the sahara desert.

Harry lifts the hem of her shirt up to her hip, exposing her underwear a bit more than necessary but the thing is, she wanted him to see.

If Kay walked in right now, there would be no excuses, no justification that she would believe because of the heavy way they were both breathing and staring each other down.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry curses with a rasp, his fingertips pressing into her thigh, far enough from her injury that it doesn’t hurt.

YN thinks he’s referring to where she had bumped her leg but when she follows his gaze, it’s on her center where sure as shit there was a spot of her arousal.

Her eyes widen, embarrassed by his find, embarassed by how much she wants his mouth there - she’s never felt such a carnal craving like this before.

“I…” YN’s voice is breathy, high-pitched as she swallows down a whine of pure desire and deep, aching want.

She finds herself burying her fingers in his hair, it was partially to ground her, mostly to guide him towards where his eyes were set.

YN has never, repeat never, been so brazen in her life.

Her brain had shut off the part of her that had morals.

Harry is leaning in as she tugs at the roots of his hair, closer to her center where the want for him was tangible but he’s suddenly jolting back.

“We can’t. You know that, pet,” Harry sits back on his haunches, he scratches his jaw before pushing himself up off the floor.

He runs his hand through his hair, stress visible in his features as they tighten and the smile he gives YN was strained - his dimples didn’t pop.

“I’m sorry,” YN feels like a baby when her bottom lip starts to wobble, she should know better and it sucks how much she likes Harry.

“Don’t cry, s’my fault. Please don’t cry, darling,” Harry voice is hushed but soothing, he steps forward but YN takes a step back.

“I need to go back to my room, okay? We can act like none of this happened,” YN is a shit friend, but how would she even explain this to Kay?

YN doesn’t wait for a response, she’s turning on her heel, and booking it out of the kitchen - straight towards her bedroom to scream into her pillow.

++

YN tries to stay out of the house for a few days, going out with friends, taking an overtime shift at work, anything to avoid seeing Kay and Harry.

However, her luck runs out on day four when she’s comes home after her friend had to cancel plans due to a work thing and she had no choice but to head home.

Kay and Harry were on the couch, her feet were in his lap, and his hands were resting on her calves - there was no other cuddling and it looked rather platonic.

Neither of them look thrilled, but they at least give her a smile when she walks into the room.

While she’s in the kitchen, mixing ingredients for a salad together, she can hear their hushed voices, and it sounds tense once again.

Kay is speaking a bit louder, Harry has a bite in his tone that she has never heard but she couldn’t quite make out what they were talking about.

However, after another minute of their bickering, the front door shuts, and Kay is walking into the kitchen with an uneasy expression.

“I want to talk to you about something,” Kay starts as she sits on the countertop, her eyes only sporadically looking towards YN before darting away.

Oh shit, she knows.

She fucking knows.

YN is about to speak, to apologize, to grovel.

“This is really out of the blue. I don’t expect an answer from you right now or anything,” Kay is looking down at her hands, surprisingly vulnerable, “But I have a major favor.”

“You know I would do anything for you,” YN replies, putting down the mixing tongs and trying to regulate her irregular heartbeat from the spike in anxiety - this is where she gets caught, for what exactly, she doesn’t know but what happened a few nights ago in the kitchen wasn’t right.

“I…You’re bisexual, right?” Kay is visibly nervous, her fingers were trembling, and she was about to bite a hole through her upper lip, trapped between her teeth.

“Yes,” YN doesn’t know where this was going.

Kay knew this.

Kay had met girls YN had gone out with as well as guys.

“I…Fuck, just forget it,” Kay huffs out, acting like she’s about to slide off the counter to leave.

“You can tell me anything, come on,” YN reminds her, moving closer to rub her shoulder.

Kay looks at her hand on her shoulder, taking in a deep gulp before asking something that YN didn’t see coming from a million miles away.

“I want to try…being with a girl, you know? I just feel like there’s no spark sexually between Harry and I. I felt like there wasn’t one with a few of the last guys I dated too and I’m starting to think I’m the issue. Harry is gorgeous, sexy but I just…I don’t have a desire to jump in bed with him.”

That makes one of us, YN thinks.

“Kay…I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” YN pauses, she felt shaky now for a different reason.

“Will you…god, this is so fucking lame but I trust you. I want to hook up with you,” Kay blurts out finally, eyes wide and unsure, she was being vulnerable right now like she didn’t know how YN was going to respond.

YN swallows a gasp of surprise, of course it’s a surprise hearing that one of her best friends wants to sleep with her, to experiment.

“Is that what you and Harry were fighting about?” YN asks instead of giving her an answer, she needed more information before she said yes.

Kay was cute, attractive but wasn’t YN’s type.  It wouldn’t necessarily be a hardship to hook up with her but she can say that it has never crossed her mind that she would want that.

“Not really,” Kay shrugs mulishly, “We discussed it. He doesn’t think that it’s a good idea that it’s with you, you know? But I feel comfortable with you, I don’t want to go out and find a random girl to try it out with.”

YN flushes at the thought of her having this conversation with Harry, with Harry telling Kay that it wasn’t a good idea, “He wants you to go hook up with a random girl?”

“He supports whatever decision I make to try to figure myself out a bit more. He didn’t tell me I could or couldn’t do anything but he wants to be there,” Kay adds another bombshell, like this already wasn’t insane enough.

“What?” YN’s eyes were wide as saucers.

This had to be a prank.

This was not real life right now.

Kay laughs nervously, “I know it’s insane, okay? Harry and I aren’t the norm though. Not at this point, I don’t know what I want but I don’t want to break up with him. I’m being selfish and he for some reason or another loves me enough to see this through.”

The thought of Kay and Harry talking about love makes her stomach churn when she has no right to feel nauseous thinking about that.

“He suggested I find someone we could have a threesome with,” Kay was finally starting to make more consistent eye contact but YN doesn’t think she’s ever seen her this unsure of herself as she picks at her bottom lip.

“And he is okay with it being me?” YN clarifies, it’s not for the right reasons, she wants to know that Harry wants her just as much - it’s not right.

“Like I said, he thought it would be better if it was someone less close but I always really thought that you were attractive and…yeah,” Kay trails off before actually answering the question, “He said that if I ended up choosing you, that would be okay with him too. He didn’t care either way.”

YN feels like an asshole for feeling disheartened about it, that he wasn’t jumping on the chance to sleep with her without any strings attached, it made her feel a bit anger like he was leading her on but she was quite sure that she wasn’t imagining things.

“I’ll do it, yeah,” YN agrees with a wary smile, “Anything to help you out.”

“You’re the best,” Kay squeals, suddenly excited and all the nervousness that had seemed to have left her body as she jumps off the counter, and very unexpectedly steps into YN’s space, cupping her cheeks, and bringing her in for a kiss.

YN’s freezes for a moment, just taken aback by the action but Kay’s lips are soft, she doesn’t want to push her off and make her feel embarrassed, and it had been awhile since she had any intimacy so it wasn’t unwelcome.

Kay tasted like something sweet as she parts her lips, YN finds herself slipping her tongue into her mouth, and though the feeling isn’t nearly as fiery as it was when Harry just merely touched it, it still felt nice.

YN doesn’t know how long they stay like that, YN with her hips pushed back against the countertop, and Kay boxing her in, hands not wandering much, keeping one of the side of her neck, and the other on the curved space between her ribcage and hipbone.

Long enough that someone clears their throat and makes them jump apart.

Harry.

He was back, with a bag of groceries in his hand, and a downright scary expression on his face.

His eyebrows are knitted tightly together, a crease in the space that exists, his lip was twitching to hide the way he was grinding his molars together but the flex of his jaw gave away what his was doing as he loudly lets the bag spill onto the table.

It’s almost worse that he does not say anything or acknowledge it.

“I’m making eggplant parmigiana,” Is all the he says, without looking at either of them, and unloading this onto the countertop surface with a bit more force than necessary.

YN knew her lips were puffy, swollen from how into Kay had been.

It was…nice but YN wasn’t necessarily disappointed that they got interrupted either, she wasn’t dying to do anything further either.

Not like how she would have done just about anything to have a few more minutes with Harry that night.

YN questions whether any of this was true, whether Kay really did discuss it with Harry because by the way his shoulders were bunched up and his movements were sharp and almost agitated, it really didn’t seem like he was okay with sharing his girlfriend.

“I’m going to go out for a bit,” YN wasn’t planning on it but she really didn’t want to be in the middle of whatever conversation was about to happen.

“YN, no. You don’t have to,” Kay starts to assure her, glaring over at Harry like she wants him to change his attitude but he doesn’t look at either of them nor does he give any input as he starts to take items out of the bag.

“No, I had plans already,” She lies, quickly retreating from the kitchen and into her bedroom.

It’s no surprise when she hears their voices travel back towards her bedroom, they’re not yelling at each other but it’s definitely not a gentle, easygoing conversation if the way it echoes is anything to go by.

YN frantically texts a few friends, begging to see if anyone was willing to go to eat or get drinks because she wanted to try to be out of the house as late as possible tonight, hopefully not getting home until both of them were asleep.

++

YN is lucky enough that her friend, Mindy, invites her to tag along to a work outing that they were having to celebrate the startup company’s anniversary.

It was at a bar in the middle of the city where the drinks were comped and it was easy to let the liquor slip down her throat, again and again as she took advantage of the free alcohol to ease the mindfuck that had happened to her earlier.

Did Kay really suggest those things?

Did Kay really kiss her?

YN drank until those questions became a bit quieter and she became a lot more fuzzy.

++

YN was still happily buzzed when she was dropped off by the uber at her apartment building's doorstep, not drunk enough that she stumbled as she made her way in but not sober enough that she didn’t have to squint at the numbers on the elevator panel until they made sense.

YN was uncoordinated on a good day so any alcohol just made that amplified, it was a mission to try to riffle through her small clutch to find her housekeys - it was a tiny bag, where could they be?

She tries the doorhandle just to see if they had left it unlocked but they didn’t which makes her thump her head against the wood of the door as she blearly brings her clutch closer to her face to dig through, her lip gloss falling to the ground.

“Shit,” YN huffs as she leans down, hearing the click of the lock being turned and the door is opening.

YN stands up to see Harry at the door, a pissy expression on his face but he doesn’t look like he has been sleeping despite the late hour, it had to be past two in the morning by this point because she truly did lose track of time.

He doesn’t say anything but steps aside to let her in.

“You’re killin’ my buzz,” YN grumbles as she steps through the doorway, leaning down to attempt to unstrap her heels but then she actually does trip over her own feet like a baby deer learning how to walk on new legs.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Harry replies in the most morbid, monotone drawl - not one ounce of sincerity in his voice.

When she stumbles again, Harry grips her arm, “Enough. Sit down. I don’t need you getting injured for a third time for fucks sake.”

YN frowns, she doesn’t like how cold and distant he sounds but she does like the pressure of his hand on her body.

She easily obliges, sitting down on the entryway bench, and he kneels down in front of her.

YN’s heart rate spikes because it’s extremely reminiscent of that night.

“Kay kissed me,” YN blurts out, trying to keep her voice down, unsure of whether her friend was still awake but she highly doubted, she regrets the words as soon as they slip out, she didn’t mean to throw her friend under the bus but she didn’t want Harry to be mad at her.

Harry bites at the corner of his lip as he undoes the strap around the ankle of her right foot, slow and methodical, focused without looking up at her, “Did you want her to kiss you?”

YN is a bit taken aback by the sharpness of his tone.

When she doesn’t respond, he blinks up at her from under his lashes, his eyes were unfairly pretty under the yellowish light from the fluorescents of the lamp on the entryway table - green with nearly golden specks, flickering through and highlighted.

“Did you want her to kiss you?” Harry repeats, cold, distant, nothing like his norm.

YN doesn’t know how to reply.

Honesty is the best policy and the warm liquor that was running through her veins was helping the cause that would have normally been much harder for her to speak her mind. YN feels fat tears welling up in her eyes, the kind that sting, mixing her makeup into the saline that starts to make her blink furiously - using the heel of her palm to roughly swipe them away.

Harry slips off the first shoe, setting it neatly to the side before looking up at her again, waiting for the answer, “Tell me.”

Her bottom lip wobbles, it’s hard to maintain the intense eye contact that he was giving her as she shrugs, mulish and unsure, “It was unexpected.”

Harry seems to hesitate for a moment, “Did you enjoy kissing her?”

YN squeezes her eyes shut, hoping that Kay didn’t hear, hoping that he didn’t repeat this to Kay.

“It wasn’t bad,” YN skirts the question.

Harry puts his hand on her knee, gripping gently, “Talk to me. I know she threw a lot at you at once.”

“You don’t want me to be involved,” YN huffs, childishly enough like she was dealt an injustice.

Harry’s teeth grit like they did earlier, his fingertips pressing in slightly, “I never said that. I said it might not be the best idea because you two live together and are close. However, she clearly doesn’t take my advice, stemming from the fact that she calls you her ‘bisexual awakening’.”

YN raises her eyebrows at that, Kay hadn’t specifically said that, sure, she mentioned that she thought that YN was attractive but it had not been specifically mentioned that she had that much attraction towards her.

“What do you want?” YN’s nearly whispering now.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, it’s not about me,” Harry deflects, YN’s realizing that he’s really good at that.

“What did you think when you walked in and saw us?” 

“It’s not important. You agreed, right?” Harry clarifies, moving now to take off her other heel.

“I did,” YN swallows, blinking down at him, her heart felt like it was going to give out.

“You know why I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Harry meets her gaze again, intense and unwavering.

“You just said because we’re close,” YN repeats what he had just said.

“There’s a much bigger reason it’s not a good idea and you know that,” Harry face is serious, terse as he slips the strap from the small golden buckle. “Say it,” YN replies, unsure where the bravery came from, maybe she was just tired of him being constantly vague and noncommitall, “Tell me why then. Spell it out.”

Harry’s eyes become stormier, he places the heel next to it’s pair before sitting up further, until he suddenly moves.

His hand coming up to cup her neck, just like Kay ahd done but it was with more intention, not the timidness or hesistaation that her friend had, this was pure confiddence as he uses his grip to pull her face closer to his.

YN’s lips instantly part in a surprise, quiet gasp, and instinctually she parts her legs to give him room to situate hiself in between her, to get closer.

His lips are just about to touch hers but then he stops, “This is why it isn’t a good idea.”

Then he’s pulling back, standing up, and stalking back down the hall away from her without another word.

What the fuck.

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Thoughts?🫣

[applecrispy]

Oct. 2 ; Begging

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Male! Reader x Finnick Odair (The Hunger Games)

HEADS UP!

Second Kinktober prompt, set! Enjoy this drabble

Ended up being a bit sweeter and not too 'begging' as the prompt said, but hey! There's always another chance to re-write this after kinktober!

Also, ignore the fact I haven't posted day one yet ajdhkcjks I'll probably post it later since I'm a tad stuck on it.

And how out of practice I am in writing- but I swear, all my thirsts will (hopefully) get better overtime!

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Finnick moans, his hands claw at the kitchen counter top as his boyfriend pounds into him from behind. He aches a bit, but god it's amazing and worth it all.

He had teased (Y/n) earlier today, he was in the mood, and seems like (Y/n) was as well after having Finnick drop to his knees and suck him off from under their dinning table. He wouldn't admit it straight up, but Finnick has been itching for his lover's touch since a few days ago when (Y/n) had returned from his trip to District 13 to check in. The kiss they shared at the station, Finnick liked it a bit too much, maybe he missed (Y/n)'s lips against his, the gentle touch on his sides, how he didn’t push him-

"(Y/n)- baby, fuck!" Finnick chokes out, another moan leaving him.

His chest felt cold from being pressed against their marble counter, but (Y/n) simply continued to piston into him. A hand gently holding his thigh up to the side, granting him a new angle, and Finnick felt his legs shake, and at some point he's pinned to the counter. He can barely keep himself up on the floor, and (Y/n) seems to notice because Finnick yelps briefly as he's flipped over and he's now with his back to the counter, staring up at (Y/n) as he hikes his legs up. Now presented with a canvas, Finnick reaches up and wraps his arms around his boyfriend's back, moaning as he tries to bite the noises back by biting his bottom lip.

His hair is disheveled, messy, and not in the usual styled and seductive manner that his ex-stylists used to fix it into, but rather into something raw and honest. His fingers draw down (Y/n)'s back as he shudders and soon sputters on a noise and breath.

"Another- inside, please-" Finnick begs quietly, he doesn’t care how he aches faintly from the past three orgasms he's already had which have stolen all the air from him, he needs another load inside of him. One more.

(Y/n) smiles slightly, both love and pure unadulterated adoration, and he leans down to groan into Finnick's ear "You want another inside? And here I was thinking of pulling out and finishing all over your thighs instead... why so desperate?" He teases, and Finnick scoffs as much as he can before he breaks into a choppy whimper mixed with a moan "I- Oh right there... There! Nail right there!" He can't help but purr out, and when (Y/n)'s thrusts slow and intentionally miss, Finnick is digging his face involuntarily into (Y/n)'s neck "Please- please please... So good, please, inside. Another, right... right tHE-" his words are cut off and hit a high as he throws his head back, and if it weren't for the gentle hand on the back fo his head that stops the movement by catching his head and curling a hand into his hair, Finnick would've slammed his head open. But he's too lost to properly adore the action, instead he only lets out a heavy, and noisey high pitched moan.

(Y/n) had shifted his thrusts, and was now thoroughly fucking into him, right into his prostate as he had asked, and the tease just chuckles breathily.

"There?"

"Yes... Yes! Please inside, inside." His last few words mold into messy shapes and noises, still coherent in a sense, but debaunched with his ecstasy. He lets out another softer whimper, and Finnick swears this man is the only one who has been able to reduce him to these honest words, begs, and noises. He's a mess, but shit it's so nice.

It doesn't take too much longer, and (Y/n) gives a small tug to Finnick's hair, reeling his mind back to quickly ask for honest confirmation "Inside?" And Finnick can't help how he begs.

"YES! Inside, inside, please- please (Y/n), need it. Please, need to feel it, feel you-" and Finnick is cut off with a yelp and moan as his hips are grabbed and he's pulled down to be plush against (Y/n)'s hips. He shudders as a weak orgasm leaves him, untouched, oversensitive, and the feeling of being filled and pumped with a orgasm once more in him, Finnick lets the fingers he hadn’t noticed that dug down (Y/n)'s back fall lax.

He lets his expression drop, content as he bathes in the after glow, breathing in heavily as he lets out weak little noises. He gently holds onto (Y/n) as his partner seems just as breathless as he is, pulling back to smile down at him as Finnick feels his heart briefly flutter at how he looks at him.

"Seems like you've missed me." And Finnick groans in complaint and jokingly tries to shove (Y/n) away with a little tired grin on his own face "Oh piss off!" He scoffs out a playful laugh despite how breathless it sounds, quickly diving in to kiss (Y/n) once more in something sweeter.

Yeah, he had missed him.

[lynnie-ee]

Day 10; Fight.

╰┈➤"Your boyfriend's goals were very clear; Make you happy, spend time with you and defend you from anyone who dared to insult you in any possible way."

╰►Gender neutral reader, one-shot, 1.9k words. Kinda based on that one tweet that was like "My girl can wear whatever she want cause I can fight."

╰► Characters: Deuce, Jade, Floyd, Epel.

╰►Note: The prompts are based on words I found interesting and then I put them on a roulette to decide when I would write about them, lol. English is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes <3. Not proof read, I haven't written in a long time, so I apologise if anything is out of character.

╰►Masterlist / Inktober Masterlist.

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﹙❥﹚Deuce Spade ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

He tries his best, most of the time.

Every time he gets jealous or mad at someone else, he has to remind himself that he’s no longer a delinquent. 'Top students don’t engage in fights', he’d say to himself, even though he was well aware he had been in a few arguments with other students ever since he joined Night Raven College, each time promising himself it wouldn’t happen again.

Until it came to something related to you.

It was Halloween, it was supposed to be fun. You wanted to try a different costume this time, and decided to wear a more eccentric outfit, trying to match the extravagance of the other dorms.

You looked really cute, and Deuce was quick to compliment you, taking your hand with an excited demeanour, walking with you towards the Heartslabyul stand to show the rest of your friends your outfit.

He was really happy, as he walked along you, entertained as he listened to you talking about how you went into town and tried in many costumes before choosing that one, when he was able to hear a comment made by another Hearstlabyul student as they walked by.

"Well, they got no magic and no style, huh? Where did they even get that costume, at the kid's section?"

"Repeat what you just said." Deuce was quick to stop his walk, turning towards the student with a frown on his face.

"I said they look terrible." He answered with a defiant demeanour.

"They look perfect, are you out of your mind?" He got closer to the student with a menacing aura, ready to punch him if it was necessary.

"Not really, I've seen better-dressed scarecrows, why are you even letting them go outside like that?"

That was it.

Before you could even stop him, Deuce threw a punch directly at the guy's face, who wasn't even brave enough to defend himself, instead he just stood there holding his now bleeding nose, seemingly out of words now.

"And just so you know, they can dress however they want! And they got their costume at the adult section, don't say such stupid things!" He screamed as you dragged him out of the place, trying to avoid the small crowd that was starting to form due to the sudden commotion.

"Riddle's gonna kill you if he knows about this, you know?" You commented as you both walked to Ramshackle now, deciding to wait a bit before going to Heartslabyul.

"And It'll be worth it! He had no reason to say that kind of thing about you."

"I don't care, really."

"But I do! No one will insult you in front of me without getting what they deserve."

You giggled softly at his attitude, stopping briefly to plant a kiss on his cheek.

"Well, thank you, my Prince Charming." You watched as he blushed, timidly holding your hand.

"Whe-whenever you need it, my love!"

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﹙𖧵ֹֺֽ໋໋݊﹚Jade Leech ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

He can definitely fight, but it won't be his first option, unless the other person is the one who starts it, which never happens, because, well, he's Jade Leech.

He prefers to use more efficient techniques to make sure people never bother you again, which is why is widely known around school that no one should mess with Ramshackle's Prefect.

So imagine his surprise when, in the middle of one of his shifts, as you were sitting on one of the stools of the bar while waiting for him to be done, he heard a most unfortunate comment.

"Doesn't Azul always bother everyone about how this is a very distinguished place? I wonder who let them in while looking like that, they look like they came here straight out of bed."

As Jade was walking to a different table, he heard two students from Scarabia, making him promptly direct his gaze towards you, sitting by the bar with your headphones, without being aware of the words directed at you. It was Saturday, and you had stayed at his dorm last night, so you had decided to wear something comfy as you waited for your boyfriend. The outfit of the day was one of Jade's hoodies, which had a small embroidery of a mushroom on the front, along with a loose pair of jeans, as you supposed nobody would look at you in the secluded corner you chose to be.

You looked absolutely adorable in his eyes, and he wouldn't stand for malicious comments about you.

"Is everything alright? Are you enjoying your meal?" He asked politely towards the group of Scarabia students, who froze up immediately when Jade appeared out of nowhere, his smile more frightening than usual.

"Ye-yeah, everything is fine."

"I'm glad to hear that, but..." His smile widened as he got closer to the student who made the comment earlier, whispering so only he could hear. "I wonder if you'd be still fine if Professor Crewel knew about how you cheated on his last exam?" An innocent tone could be heard in his voice.

"How-how did you-?"

"This is a very distinguished place, as you know. It'd be inappropriate to allow patrons with such immoral attitudes to be seen in here."

"Let me talk to Azul, you can't-"

"Uh? What was that? I can't do it, you say?" He raised an eyebrow, a curious expression on his face, as he expected an answer from the nervous student, who knew better than to make Jade Leech angry.

"We-were finished either way, right? Thanks for the service, we'll be going!" The other student interrupted, quickly getting up to get ready to leave.

"Ah, I hope you enjoyed your time here." The vicehousewarden bowed politely. "But I hope you're aware that, if you make such inconvenient comments about my partner, I won't let you go as easily." He added with a close-eyed smile that didn't match his words in the slightest, as the students went away as fast as they could.

"Uhm, Jade? Your shift is about to finish, isn't it?" You asked taking your headphones out of your head to speak to your boyfriend more properly, as he placed one of your favourite drinks in front of you, his smile remaining on his face, but this time being softer.

"Yes, my love, just wait a bit more."

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﹙𖧵ֹֺֽ໋໋݊﹚Floyd Leech ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

Some days he fights, someday he doesn't care at all, some days he'll let you defend yourself if you want.

Either way, same as Jade, you weren't bothered often. No one would risk enraging the unpredictable Leech twin, and at first, when you started dating, some people wouldn't even look at you at risk of being misunderstood by the Octavinelle second-year.

It was less extreme now, as you've dated him for a while, but there were still some people who preferred to be more cautious around you.

But of course, there'll be always stupid people who'd make rude comments even when Floyd was near.

"Wish me luck, shrimpy!" Your boyfriend looked at you expectant, an excited smile on his face.

"Good luck, Floyd, score some points, okay?" You kissed his cheek softly, giggling when he accommodated the hoodie you were wearing, before going back to the basketball court.

You were in the stands, waiting for the start of a match between Night Raven College and another school which you didn't much about, you just knew that you were supposed to be there to support your boyfriend, and your friends too.

Floyd played better when you were around, and he liked to find you right away in the middle of the crowd, which is why he gave you his hoodie before the match. A hoodie that he likes to wear loose, and considering his height, you wondered if it'd fit you right when he offered it. You were wrong, and now you were sitting while completely drowning in the piece of clothing, making you look a bit out of place. But you didn't care, as long as he was happy.

The match started and everything went smoothly, as Floyd seemed to be on top of his game, scoring points left and right as he watched you cheer on him.

Until a student from the other school spotted you in the middle of the crowd, laughing to himself and then commenting on it with one of his classmates.

"Did you see that one student over there? I wonder if all the students here dress like such a mess, that hoodie is at least four sizes bigger than them."

"Perhaps they didn't even look themselves in the mirror before coming here, how embarrassing."

Floyd frowned as he heard such a comment about you, quickly deciding his strategy. He wouldn't allow words like that to be directed at his little Shrimpy.

"Hey, Floyd, pass it to me- what are you doing?!"

BAM.

The whole gymnasium fell into silence as Floyd threw the ball in the air. The thing was, that instead of being aimed to score a point, it landed on a different place...On the head of the student from the other school.

You could only watch in surprise, as Floyd turned around to show you a thumbs-up, as if he had solved a problem you had no idea about.

"Floyd! What was that?!"

It was a very effective strategy, at least.

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﹙𑁍﹚Epel Felmier ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

He'll fight at any opportunity that he gets.

After all, that's what a good boyfriend does, right? Defending you from stupid people it's his number one priority, and he wants to show you that you can depend on him.

It reaches a point in which Vil has to intervene, as it has been a regular thing lately, something the housewarden can't allow. 'Brutes don't belong in Pomefiore', is what he tells Epel one day as he scolds him, reminding him there are more ethical ways to solve things. Now he's on observation; one more fight and he'll be punished by cleaning all the windows of the dorm.

Ever since, he has been doing good, and you help him calm down when some stupid student from another dorm says something mean, telling him they don't know anything about the two of you.

But one day, as you both hang out in the Pomefiore lounge, he hears some second-years speak to each other across the room, as if you two weren't literally a few meters away from them.

"Did you see that atrocious sweater? No matter how you look a it, it doesn't match their jeans at all. Vil should stop letting people with such bad taste enter Pomefiore, don't you think?"

"What did ya say about (Y/n)?!" Epel startled you as he suddenly got up from the sofa you both were, quickly walking towards the other Pomefiore students, who observed him with a superior demeanour.

"We were talking about how badly your partner dresses. You're a Pomefiore student, Epel, you should know better than to let them walk outside with such ugly clothing."

"I gifted them that sweater! Take back your words, you idiot!"

"Even worse, you're absolutely tarnishing Pomefiore's reputation by-"

"And the next I'm gonna tarnish is gonna be your face if ya don't apologise to them, so hurry up, would ya?" Epel interrupted, promptly getting ready for fighting.

"Epel, let's just go to my dorm, okay? If you get into another fight you'll get punished." You tried to talk some common sense into him, considering that Vil would immediately know if there was an argument in his dorm.

"They're insulting you, ain't no way I'll letting 'em get away from that."

"But Vil-"

"I don't give a damn 'bout Vil-"

"What's the meaning of this scandal?!"

Well...You'll help him clean those windows, would you?

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[buckets-and-trees]

When He First Got Me

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark and rough Nomad!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader Word Count: 2200 Summary: Prequel in the Exiled Nomad Series. July 3, 2017. Steve sees you at a city festival for the Fourth of July, but he's not content with only seeing...

Content/Warnings: explicit smut, vaginal fingering, kissing, rough sex, emotional unavailability, a broken Nomad who thinks he's fine but definitely is not

Author Notes: IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO READ ANY OF THE REST OF THIS SERIES. True stand-alone prequel. A little something for Steve's birthday weekend... This will be a bit of a darker indulgence for @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar challenge: mint chocolate chip (involving a loner), sprinkles (birthday and 4th of July), cherries (meet-cute), and we'll even say some caramel (because Steve is not quite in a great headspace if we're being honest). AND I'm entering this for @witchywithwhiskey's Slasher Summer writing challenge: carnival/fair, slight stalker (but not fully), and I bolded the dialogue prompt that I used.

Steve didn’t feel like he could breathe easily, but he did feel like he could breathe here. Nothing like New York or DC. A place small enough not to be noticed but big enough to blend in without drawing attention as a stranger.

Being invisible somewhere had been easier than carving out the opportunity to do so solo over the 4th of July – less because it was America’s Birthday and more because it was his. Steve had suggested Wanda finally reconnect with Vision (they’d been on the run long enough, it should be safe for her to reach out and discreetly stay off the grid). The case he made to Sam was that he’d been on the run for over a year, and the 4th was less expected for a sentimental return to stop in on family but would still afford a holiday’s community celebrations and to give him reasonable cover to slip in and out. Nat hadn’t needed convincing. She saw, asked if he was sure, but understood without him needing to explain, and said she had things of her own that she’d take care of.

He just didn’t want any of the fuss of them trying to make him feel better on his birthday.

Steve was sitting on a shaded grassy knoll in the city park, hundreds of people around him, all weaving in and out of booths with games, vendors, and food, a vibrant temporary set up for a few days around the 4th, and on the far side of the park the sounds of carnival rides underscored it all.

He hadn’t come to this place to find someone.

But the moment he first noticed you, the plans started forming in his head before he could stop them.

And why should he stop them?

As he alternated between sketching in his notebook and people-watching, people watching turned into watching only you – you wandering this place clearly alone. Must be on your own in this city.

It would be so easy to harmlessly bump into you.

So he did.

When you recognized him, he could easily use the moment to draw you into keeping his presence in such a public place secret, getting you to trust him by him “trusting you” with his secret.

And he did.

He could easily ask if there were any good places to eat in town, then ask if you would join him.

He did, and you did.

After walking you home, it would be so easy to get you to invite him in, an afternoon and evening of conversation, compounding moments, and more and more casual touches on your arm, your shoulder, the small of your back, the back of your hand, having your body attune to him.

And it worked.

You hesitated, but invite him in you did.

And he tried for a moment to convince himself that being invited in had been all he wanted – to be someplace that wasn’t a stolen moment or a hotel room or a safe house that itself wasn’t very safe, just to be someplace private, someplace normal, someplace that felt like home.

But that was not the only thing he wanted.

And why shouldn’t he take the rest of what he wanted? After everything, didn’t he deserve it?

You didn’t notice that he locked the door behind him. You’d been apologizing for the state of your place, though after a quick glance around, he assured you it only looked lived in, not a mess.

Not like the mess he was so eager to make you into beneath him.

After insisting you didn’t need to get anything for him, he sat on your couch. He told you how nice it was just to sit there, nowhere to be, no reason to hide, how tired he was of running. You listened; you soothed him. He leaned in and kissed you.

You kissed him back.

All he did was kiss you until you leaned back on the couch and urged him along with you.

He let his chest press into your deliciously soft body. He groaned into the kiss, and you opened your mouth to his. This kisss grew in fervor, tongues exploring and tangling with each other. His hand ran up and down your thigh, slowly coaxing you to hitch it up around his waist. You moaned when he ground gently against your core – gentle only to test the waters. His need was mounting exponentially, and he knew the damn would break soon. He intended to let it.

He moved his lips from your mouth to your shoulder, kissing there before teasing his lips and teeth and tongue along your collar bone to the sensitive point of your neck. You sighed in bliss, and he moved his hand back up your thigh, over your hip, across your stomach, undid the top button he found there, and started to reach into your jeans.

Your breath hitched, and your hands flew to his.

“Steve, wait,” you said.

But you didn’t say stop.

He waited.

He could hear the wild racing of your heart beneath him.

The pressure of your hands on his body didn’t change, no part of you shifted to move away. Your eyes closed, the only sign of your reticence were your teeth worrying your bottom lip.

Steve slid his hand down to cup your pussy and his fingers found the wetness growing there that he expected. You let out a shuddering breath as his fingers worked your labia, but he didn’t linger there. He pulled his fingers out and then pushed them into your mouth.

“Neither of us wants to wait,” he snarled as you licked your slick from the pads of his fingers. “And it’s summer, we’re supposed to be having fun.”

Super soldier serum running through his veins, Steve picked you up with ease, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, legs around his waist, while he held one of your thighs and pressed his other hand at the base of your spine, pinning you securely to him while he captured your lips to kiss you again.

He easily found your bedroom, and he lowered you to the bed in a kneeling position. He didn’t relent in his kissing, devouring you, demanding your supplication. He only broke off the kiss once you were breathless, moaning, and pulling at his clothes. Then he stepped back and told you to undress. Steve quicky removed all his own clothing while keeping his eyes on you. You only removed your shirt and jeans, leaving you in your underwear, but he could work with that for now. He’d have you willing to shed the rest soon enough.

Steve got up on the bed with you, pleased that he could see your eyes darkening with the lust and the want. He recognized exactly the kind of want he was dealing with – it was how he imagined he would have behaved before living the harsh life of denial he’d lived while exiled and on the run for the past year. The old him would have wanted but been hesitant, gone slow, paid attention to more of the dance before even getting into bed.

He didn’t have the luxury of time or the patience for that.

He only had an insatiable need that he’d pushed down and ignored – ignored for years even before becoming Nomad. He’d denied himself so many things, sacrificed for others, for missions, too many legitimate and imagined reasons holding him back.

He wouldn’t hold back now.

But he would coax you into needing him as much as he needed you.

You only glanced at his naked groin with a moment of hesitance as he pulled you into his lap, but you still let him. He resumed your kissing, and you were quick to continue making out with him. He allowed you take the reins to steer the kissing, letting you lap up at the pace you wanted. He let his hands roam over your back as he eased you along, seemingly unhurried. But his hands soon made their way to your hips, and he secured his grip there and began grinding you down against his hard cock. He moaned unabashedly into your mouth as he adjusted the angle of your hips and continued rocking your core against him.

He was insistent on torturing you where your most intimate parts met until, clinging to his shoulders, you threw your head back, gasped for air.

“Steve,” you keened his name, clearly in the early stages of sweet ruin that he wanted.

He smirked against your neck and laid you down on your back with deceptive sweetness. He kissed slowly down your chest, between your breasts, down over your belly button. His fingers hooked into the top of your panties just as his lips arrived at the top of that fabric, and he peeled them down and fully off your legs. Your fingers worked anxiously over the sheets beneath you as he made you wait for him to touch you more.

His hands opened your legs back up, pushing at your knees to splay you open like a butterfly beneath his attention.

He worked both of his thumbs up and down over your labia, smearing your cunt with your juices, studying what he was about to claim and ruin. Then he looked up at your face and said, “This is mine now, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” your voice was soft, nervous, but also eager.

It hadn’t actually been a question, but he wanted you to say it out loud.

The only question was how he wanted to take you first.

Since he planned on taking you in every way, he went with the most convenient first, easing his cock into you slowly, but with no apologies for how thick he was, pressing into you despite the resistance – not that of a virgin, but of a cunt that had never taken a cock so big before. You cried out – but he knew the tone of it was pain drenched with bliss, he could hear it. What’s more, when he was fully sheathed inside you, he waited, unmoving. He watched your chest rise and fall with a few breaths. When you finally shifted your hips against his, he knew he had won. You wanted more. The beast inside of him surged in satisfaction, and then he began to aggressively thrust in and out of your tight channel.

He leaned forward, and your knees hitched up around his waist to urge him on. You clawed at his back, and when he reached between your bodies and found your swollen clit, he rubbed furious circles over it until he was rewarded with the clenching of your cunt around him, the seizing up of every muscle in your body, as he delivered your first orgasm of the night.

He continued pumping in and out of your spasming cunt until he was right at the edge, then pulled out and fisted his cock with only two more strokes before releasing hot ribbons of cum over your stomach.

Your fingers inched hesitantly toward the mess, and he put his hand over yours and pushed your fingers and his through the mess, pressing it into your skin. Then he moved your hands away and lowered his body down onto yours, the sticky spend between your skin and his there.

“I…” you started, but then paused.

He slipped his other hand beneath your head, cradling it in his palm. “Mmm?” he hummed against the spot behind your ear.

“I’m clean and have an IUD.”

He groaned and nipped at your neck. “You want me to continue to fuck you more. You want me to cum inside you.”

“Yes, Steve,” you simpered.

“Mmm, such a good girl,” he pressed a hot kiss against your neck, then rolled off being on top of you, and to his side next to you. “Best give you what we both want, then,” he said as he turned you onto your side, back pressed to his chest, and felt below to press his dick into your hole again.

Hours later when its far past midnight, you’ve passed out from exhaustion.

Or at least that’s what he thought.

But when he slipped back onto your bed after taking a piss, you scooted your body in next to him, put your hand on his chest, and muttered the sleepiest, “Happy birthday,” to him he’d ever heard. He almost wondered how you knew switching from the third to the fourth meant it was his day, but then he remembered the time when seemingly everyone knew it was Cap’s birthday.

While he wasn’t Cap anymore, it still struck something in him and made his chest warm.

But he didn’t feel like you would make a big deal out of it or make him feel bad and that maybe it would be nice to be with someone on his birthday, so he decided to stay. He told himself it was to be distracted chasing more bliss with your body. He ignored the other thoughts working through his mind. He only wanted – only needed – the distraction. Nothing else.

NEXT: July 4, 2017. read more Exiled Nomad Series

I'M GLAD Steve's POV won in the poll I ran earlier this week... clearly since I made the poll my muse was leaning heavy towards it anyway, but this was certainly illuminating to see more of where Steve's head is at in this ... situationship.

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[grandline-fics]

Could you please write a gn reader with Crocodile, Kid and Buggy hurting them while controlled?

DESCRIPTION: They hurt you while controlled by a devil fruit

WARNINGS: angst, descriptions of injury, hurt to comfort

CHARACTERS: Zoro, Law, Shanks, Mihawk | Luffy, Ace, Sabo | Crocodile, Kid

WORDS: 1,946

A/N: Thank you for requesting! This seems to be a popular request. I mean who doesn't love some hurt/comfort themed angst. Only managed to get something thought up for with Crocodile and Kid. I'll get one for Buggy done soon and include it with one of the other characters requested. Hope you like what I came up with!

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

CROCODILE

Crocodile was never a stranger to violence or bloodlust when the fighting got intense but this was intense. This was all consuming and possessive, this anger and desire to obliterate anything and everything in his path took hold of him so fiercely. In the haze he was faintly aware of voices calling for him, trying to appeal to his better nature, urging him to calm before he hurt those he was allied with but he didn’t listen, part of him didn’t want to listen. It had been a while since he got to truly go all out like this. Slowly he felt the violent waves coursing through his blood begin to pull back and clarity began to return to his mind and then he felt the familiar warmth of your body against his. Crocodile looked down at you and for a moment it would have been easily mistaken for a soft embrace between you both. 

However as he came to his senses he finally saw the hazy, unfocused look in your pained eyes and felt the slowly dampening of his shirt cuff that met the base of his hook. The sense of dread that overcame Crocodile felt so much worse and far more intense than his earlier rush of unexplained savagery. He could hear the slow almost rhythmic dripping of your blood hitting the ground and it mixed painfully with your struggled breaths, weak and thready. He moved to get a better look only to stop when your shaking hand touched his cheek. Crocodile reluctantly met your gaze and tensed to see you let out a shuddering sigh of relief and your trembling lips fell into smile. “Cr…croc…y-you’re back. Good.”

Good? Good?! Even now you were concerned for him? It seemed as though you had forced yourself to stay conscious long enough to ensure he’d returned to his usual self because as soon as you’d confirmed it your already weakened body slumped against his, completely unconscious. Immediately Crocodile sprung into action, barking commands for any and all those around him to clean up the destruction he’d caused while those that had medical training saw to you first and any others he’d hurt second. You were his priority. When he’d safely transferred you to the care of the medics while also having to remove his hook from his arm he turned to those he trusted most to explain what had happened. 

It turned out someone from his past held a grudge fiercer than he’d given them credit for and sent one of their subordinates to deal with Crocodile for his past doings. While they had only been told to kill the former Warlord, the subordinate’s Devil Fruit had presented a much more enticing method to inflict Crocodile’s punishment. While disguised, they’d managed to get close enough to place Crocodile under their influence and command him to cause as much carnage as possible. The Devil Fruit user had been dealt with when they tried to escape Cross Guild but even then their power had a time limit and in that time, Crocodile had wrought destruction that only proved how fearsome a man he really was under the fine clothes and practiced patience your influence had formed in him over the years. 

Through the time you lay sleeping, Crocodile remained sat at his desk in the bedroom deciding to throw himself into the distraction of work while also remaining close. He still refused to reattach his hook. Every time he so much as looked at it, despite it having been cleaned and polished so intensely he could only see it still covered in your blood and it actually sickened him. Had it been anyone else he’d gored with his signature prosthetic he wouldn’t have bat an eye. Hell he didn’t even feel guilty about the others who’d been injured in his rampage, it was only how he nearly killed you that haunted him. He’d been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you’d woken until you were trying to sit up in the bed. Immediately he dispersed his body into sand and was across the room in an instant. “Slowly, love. Just sit back and rest.”

“Where’s your hook?” You asked weakly, eyebrows pulling together in confusion as you let him coax you back against the propped up pillows. Crocodile studied your face carefully but the small scowl on his lips told you he wasn’t going to answer. “This has really shaken you, hasn’t it?”

“You’re the only thing that I’d consider that makes me vulnerable. To be the one responsible for this…” he paused to glanced down, knowing the severe injury now hidden by your clothes and bandages. “I suppose even I can be shakable in those circumstances.”

“I understand. Just don’t let it haunt you for too long, okay?” You asked, leaning in to his touch when his hand cupped your face gently. Crocodile took a long steadying breath and nodded, pulling his hand away from your face to reach into the inside of his coat and hesitantly pulled out his hook and into view. Through it all he watched your expression carefully in case the sight of it drew out your true subconscious feelings of fear over the fact this was the weapon that could have killed you. Instead you gently took it to assist reattaching it, smiling wide when it clicked into place. 

KID

“What’s happened now?!” You shouted over the high pitched shriek of Kid’s magnetic powers kicked into a fiercer frequency. You and the rest of the crew had engaged in a full scale battle that had been going smoothly. Your opponents weren’t pushovers but they weren’t exactly the strongest people you’d ever fought. It was enough to be fun and still break a slight sweat, the perfect balance you thought. Just as things seemed to have been winding down, Kid’s outburst of mounting power erupted as if from nowhere with no discernible reason why. You let out a gasp of shock and dodged just in time as a large shard of metal cut through the air. You looked to your second in command, the one who’d been closest to Kid through the fight. “Killer?!”

“Something’s up with Kid!” Killer shouted, also taking cover. “We took the bastard down but he got one last hit in. That’s when Kid started acting weird!” You took a chance and looked out from around the wall you’d ducked behind to see Kid’s face was completely unreadable but the overwhelming need for destruction and violence was suffocating. You’d experienced Kid at his angriest but this was something else entirely. Normally he’d get lost in the fight and yell but it unnerved you to hear nothing from him and see his usually burning gaze dulled and darkened. This wasn’t Kid. This wasn’t your Kid. Licking your dry lips, you tightened your hands into fists and wordlessly caught Killer’s attention once more. Silently you both seemed to have the same thought. With a firm nod you both broke out from your covers and acted.

Kid’s head was throbbing and his vision blurred as it slowly began to sharpen again. This felt like the world’s worst hangover combined with being hit with a full Marine ship. His limbs all but screamed in agony and he couldn’t shake the ringing in his ears. Dully he could make out the muffled yells of someone calling his name. In whoosh, his hearing snapped back to normal as Killer bellowed out his name. “Kid! Snap out of it before you kill them, please!” 

Looking over he saw Killer pinned against the wall, his blades magnetised to the surface and stopping him from breaking free. Confused about why his power would restrain his best friend he quickly broke it, watching Killer drop to his ground. The second he was free, Killer sped across the distance and barrelled hard into his Captain in the hopes of releasing his metal hand. Only now did Kid recall Killer’s yell and he looked down to see you lying at his feet. Horror filled Kid as he saw you bloodied and unconscious, your body being squeezed in his bulked metal hand. Immediately he let go of you and staggered back. No, this couldn’t be happening. How did this happen?

Through you time recovering Kid kept his distance. At first while you were unconscious and he knew you’d be okay with time he’d tried to force himself to act like this hadn’t affected him. The crew had reassured him that he wasn't to blame for any of it and on the outside he’d agreed but that first night when he went to check on your still sleeping form he all but broke down. Of what he could see of your body was flared with dark purple and your face was twisted in discomfort. Everyone in the ship had suffered horrible injuries in the past, that was nothing new and to be expected. As much as he tried to find reason behind it and use his bravado to seem like the same old Kid, he felt sick to his stomach at his actions. The guilt was unbearable and he couldn’t bring himself to be near you and was secretly glad you’d been put on the strictest bed rest until you were given a full all clear. Kid had planned to use that time to get his head on straight. Sadly it never came. 

Every night since that day he hurt you he was plagued with nightmares. Some just filled with the sight of your body crushed by his hand. Others took the already painful experience further and twisted it to the point he’d dreamt he’d killed you. The end was always the same, he’d wake with a gasp and drenched in a cold sweat unable to breathe. One night after waking from the nightmare he jumped at the sound of a knock at his door. Slowly he rose and opened the door only to freeze to see you standing there. “Y-you should be in bed. You’re still healing.”

“If anyone needs healing it’s you.” You told him softly, your eyes scanning his haunted expression sadly. When Kid opened his mouth to argue, you held up a hand to stop him, immediately he shut his mouth. You stepped into Kids room and took his hand in yours, leading him to his bed and making him lie down before you settled into the space beside him, curling up and settling your hand on his chest. Before you’d gotten hurt it wasn’t rare for you and Kid to nap together on the deck when the mornings were slow so you were both used to this position, even if being in his bed at night made things more intimate. Still you felt how tense he was and sighed. “What’s done is done and if I knew how this would have gone…I’d still have done what I did to try and save you. I only regret how much this is eating you up. Just focus on my breathing, Kid. I’m still alive. I’m here with you.”

“That nearly wasn’t the case. I almost killed you.” Kid felt the panic claw at his chest, this was the first time he’d spoken the words. The first time he’d spoken to you since…”I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh. Just sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.” Your voice was as warm as always, no hint of hatred for him in your tone. Reluctantly Kid settled his arm around you and closed his eyes, falling into the best night’s sleep he’d had in a long while with no more nightmares to haunt him.

——————————————-

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[taintedcigs]

i slept with someone from corroded coffin and all i got was this stupid song written about me.

ROCKSTAR!FBOY!EDDIE X READER

summary: fooling around with a famous rockstar who's a notorious playboy sounds perfect on paper, until you catch feelings for him. that's why you decide to end things, to not get your feelings get hurt, and its all going perfectly, until eddie releases a song, written all about you.

warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising?, lovey dovey, kinda angst and arguments, drgs & alcohol mention, swearing? idk this is kinda cheesy n cute with a mix of fluff sprinkled honestly!

author's note: the indented parts are texts between steve and reader and thenn reader and eddie. they look confusing as fuck im sorry i just wanted to make them look unique but they look stupid. also yes. i patted myself in the back after i found this title (thank you fob). and yes the lyrics are inspired by i don't care im on a fob kick sue me! and ofc fboy!eddie isn't actually that much of a fboy bc if i can't write lovesick eddie ill die. this is super cheesy so i still struggled a lot but UGH. not proof-read ignore all mistakes

also credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts! (i changed them but still!) and @saradika for the dividers! pls like + rb + interact w me in anyway to support my writings!! ty!!

DINGUS sent you a spotify link. did you listen to this? yeah. its kinda romantic. no. the lyrics are insane. n all about u okay? are u at the party rn? yeah. u comin? soon he’s there too u already knew that, didn’t u?  false accusations r rude, steve.

You click your phone off with a groan, but he was right. You couldn’t stay away from him, and maybe, just maybe, this was your way of running into him, accidentally. 

Because ever since he released the song, the tabloids had gone crazy with it, half of the lyrics screamed you and all of the old headlines pointed at you, the mystery girl Eddie used to be seen with, and you really were growing tired of seeing your name next to “Munson’s new girl.” 

Because you weren’t his new girl, you weren’t his anything. He was a cocky asshole who was good with a guitar and was even better at fucking. And that was something both of you could relate to, the only thing you had in common with him. Or, so you thought. 

But of course, as with everything else, the things between you changed, you started staying over, he started staying over, and the two of you even went on fucking dates, disguising them under ‘we were just hungry, is all.’ 

You tried to keep up the cool girl act, like you could fuck someone and not catch feelings. Every inch of you itched not to care, to act like it was all fine, but it was all fucking bullshit, you cared, so fucking much that your chest ached. The more you got to know him, the more you fell for him, and the more you fell for him, the more you realized there was no fucking way this would work. 

Cocky rockstar who spent more time doing drugs than sleeping, with girls all over him? The imaginary red flag bells rang in your ear, even now. He wasn’t looking for a relationship and you knew that. That’s why you ended it two months ago. Or at least, you started ignoring him two months ago. 

Yet, he had been calling and texting you, wanting to meet up, drunken slurs of nonsense, gibberish voicemails, and yet you never answered, because if you did, you knew you’d be back to pathetically swooning over him.

Until today, just because of that stupid song, like it meant anything. That douchebag probably wrote songs about every girl he fucked. 

You weren’t special. 

Another ding sound from your phone almost startled you, the contact name made you groan even louder. “don’t FUCKING answer.” That didn’t mean shit. It was just something stupid to make you feel better that you couldn’t stay away from him, because you knew, deep down that if you really didn’t want him to contact you, you would’ve deleted his number, and blocked him. You were too chicken shit to do that, and still desperately wanted to hear from him. 

So you settled on that contact name. Like it made a difference, like it changed anything. 

DONT FUCKING ANSWER did you listen to the song?

Don’t fucking answer. The contact name should be enough to convince yourself that.

Too late.

                                                                   no. don’t lie to me, sweetheart.                                                                            why would i lie?

You sink into the couch, a much quieter corner of the party, not even bothering to socialize. Your brows furrow, index finger flying to your lips anxiously, as you chew on it to patiently wait for an answer.

You sip on your drink with a nervous gaze on your screen, barely noticing the way the couch sink further when someone else took a seat next to you. 

“Hi.” The gravelly voice pulls your attention away from the screen, making you set your drink aside as you look up, finding yourself face-to-face with him. 

Shaggy bangs cascade onto his forehead, and with your exaggeration, it looks longer than the last time you saw him. Black jeans cladded with chains. A graphic tee messily thrown over his heavily tatted chest, that you could still imagine right about now—pathetic. He looked just about the same, the deep dimple adorning his soft cheeks had seemed to disappear, wearing a scowl instead, that tiny voice in your head told you that was your doing, that maybe he was just as miserable as you. Maybe your feelings weren’t fully one-sided.  

Shit. 

“Eddie?” Squeaky, and annoying, you were sure that’s how your tone sounded, yet he didn’t seem to comment on it.

“‘m glad you remember my name, sweetheart,” he scoffs sarcastically, leaning further into the plush couch, elbow propped at the side, eyeing you with frustration. 

“W—what the hell are you doing here?” You stutter as if you weren’t expecting to run into him. Full of bullshit. 

“Did ya really think you could ignore me forever, huh?” He tilts his head slightly, almost expectedly, earning an eye roll from you. 

“I wasn’t ignoring yo—”

Eddie tuts quickly, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cuts through the ambient noise of the party, “I thought we said no more lies, huh?” 

With a huff, “Why are you here, Eddie?” you mumble.

“Am I not allowed to party?” He banters, brows slightly raised, making you huff out an exasperated breath, your eyes bore into him, almost to signal him ‘Take this seriously.’

“I wanted to know what you thought.” He shrugs like it was normal to just come running after everything just to know what you thought of the song. 

“The song?” He nods in confirmation.

“Didn’t like it,” you confess, avoiding his gaze, but your brows betray you, lifting ever so slightly.

He tsks, shutting you off quickly, “You see that little quirk your brow did? That only happens when you lie, you can’t help it. You do that when I ask you if you ate the last pizza slice, or when I ask if you watched the next episode of the show we were supposed to watch together, or when you—” 

“Fine, fine! I liked it,” you groan, interrupting him and suddenly standing up from the comfort of the couch, being so face-to-face with him immediately making your nerves bubble.

“Just liked?” He tilts his head slightly, a smirk curving on his lips. 

A deep sigh of breath, “what do you want, Munson?”

He stands up with you, making you back away from him with a heavy footstep, the entire party was too loud and crowded, yet, in this stupid corner, it was just the two of you. “For you to admit that you loooved the song, and how much you missed me,” he sing-songs, taking a step closer to you, musky smell invading your senses, making you take a deep breath.

Both of you stand near the wall, and it should be awkward, it should be enough to make you leave, but all it does is draw you closer to him.

“You’re annoying.” 

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I wasn’t avoiding—” He tuts, with his stupid index finger up, rejecting your lie.

“I—I don’t know what you expected.” You shrug, so nonchalantly that his gaze narrows, chest aching with the implications of your words.

“We both knew this wouldn’t last forever, didn’t we?” You chew the inside of your lip to stop those tears that had been begging to flow ever since you listened to the song, wiping off that smirk on Eddie’s lips. 

“Would’ve been nice if I got a reminder, and not have been just fully ghosted, huh?” The brunette grumbles with a downturn of his lips, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Oh, don’t act all high and mighty, isn’t that what you do all the fucking time?” you snap, gaze narrowed, and arms crossed against your chest. 

“Fuck girls and then leave them? Did it crush your ego this fucking much that I did before you could?” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” He retaliates. 

“It means I was smart enough to pull myself away from your bullshit,” you rasp, disdain written all over your face.The room seems to shrink as the distance between you decreases. 

Another step closer to you, and you didn’t realize your back had hit the wall now. “My bullshit? God, that’s fucking rich, if I seem to recall correctly sweetheart, you were in this as much as I fucking was!”

“Oh, was I?” You bark out a chuckle, cruel, mocking, “I don’t remember being okay with you fucking half the city.” Realization of how bitter and jealous that sounds, dawns on you much later than the words leave your lips, and thankfully, Eddie’s too fucking immersed to realize the double meaning of your words. 

“Are you fucking kidding? No strings attached! Non-exclusive! That’s what you fuckin’ signed up for!” His voice echoes, mirroring his frustration, and you open your mouth.

But he doesn’t let you speak further, cutting you off sharply. “Is this all because of that new guy you’re seein’?” 

“What? What guy?” 

“The one who was all over you earlier,” he bites out, jaw clenched, and you can almost taste his bitterness in the air.  

“The same one you fucked at Jeff’s party.”

“Are you stalking me, Munson?” 

“Did you just want an excuse to end things? Are the two of you serious or somethin’?” His voice wavered between anger and desperation, gaze pathetically searching for yours, to gauge your reaction.

You scoff. Did he really think you’d end things because of a stupid fling you had which in the first place occurred just so you could forget him? He was so goddamn clueless it drove you insane. 

But what you didn’t realize was that you were just as clueless, if not more, because why would he write a song all about you, if this was just about sex? Because who would get so jealous of someone they didn’t care about? 

Say my name and his in the same breath.

I dare you to say they taste the same. 

The lyrics from his stupid song swirled your thoughts, yet you were still too stupid to see it, weren’t you?

Another step closer to you, a dangerous game the two of you liked to play. He smelled alluring, a fucked up mix of nicotine, his musky cologne, and that damn leather jacket. “Do you really think, he could compare to me, sweetheart?” 

Say my name and his in the same breath.

“Tell me he’s fucking better, and he’s actually what you want, and I’ll fucking leave, I’ll bury all the other songs I wrote, tell me, and I’ll be out of your hair forever.”

I dare you to say they taste the same. 

And just like that, all the defenses you put up, all the times you ignored him, they are cracked, disappearing into thin air. You hate it, you hate that he has this effect on you, you can feel your mind getting hazier, eyes blinking rapidly to process what the fuck is going on, and his face is mere inches away from yours. You knew their names didn’t taste the same. And you knew he could never ever compare to Eddie.

“Tell me,” he encourages, dares you to. You fail to notice how much emotion his gaze carries, how the corners of his lips twitch, just at the thought of you finally admitting you don’t want him. His stomach turns at the thought, this is his last chance, he knows that, and he can’t fucking lose you. He can’t. 

And you don’t know any of that, but you knew, know that no one else could compare to him. And you hate yourself for thinking that, you hate yourself for falling for him, the world stops rotating on its axis when he’s in your peripheral vision, and it’s fucking disgusting. Pathetic. Stupid. Because you know the two of you have no chance. But here you are. 

“H—he is b—” Of course, your brow quirks up almost immediately, betraying you quicker than you can even attempt to lie. 

That dawning smirk appears on his lips again, it’s mocking, and just as much smug. You want to wipe it off of his stupidly pretty face. “Tell me,” he dares you, again. This time much cockier and confident, and you suddenly realize how small you feel under him.

“He isn’t,” your meek voice is barely audible.

And you don’t register the shaky breath he draws when the words leave your lips, giving him the confirmation he needs. You wanted him, he had no fucking clue why you ghosted him, yet you still wanted him. Just as much as he wanted you. 

Both of his hands were placed on the wall now, towering over you, making your breath get caught up in your throat. “Speak up.”

“No, fuck! You know he’s not, you know he could never fucking compare to you, you fucking know tha—” He shuts you up with a rough kiss, lips pressed against yours messily, letting the petty comments die down your throat. Because this is all he wanted, needed to hear anyway. 

“Up,” he grunts into the kiss, tapping your thighs, hoisting you up from your waist to help you wrap your legs around him, tight, he wants you at his mercy, locked to him. 

You wrap your legs around him, barely, the melty sensation in your knees making you so shaky that he barks out a laugh into your lips, holding you close, firm, the butterflies in your stomach traveling all across your body.

He lifts you up as if you are weightless, arms wrapped around you strongly as he carries you to the nearest empty bedroom, impressively without hitting your back anywhere, so roughly that your core throbs at the feeling of his arms around you.

“Baby,” he mutters as he lowers you down on the bed swiftly, smooth, gaze darkened and pupils blown wide, all the pent up desire waiting to explode. 

“Eddie,” you beg, shaky voice sounding purely angelic to his ears once he got rid of his shirt, shrugging it off with a huff, his fingertips grazing against your top, feeling your hardened nipples, causing gasps out of you, he’s quick to pull it over your head while you run your fingers up the grooves of his stomach, the tip of your fingertips almost burns everywhere you touch. 

He groans at the sight of your bare breasts, “missed thi-you,” he corrects himself, because that’s all he wanted anyways, you. 

He nips at your nipples, tongue good at giving attention to both of them, all wet and warm, making you squirm under his touch, you’re quick to get rid of everything else, leaving you in your panties, making him grunt. 

The pad of his thumb rubs against your left nipple, leaving goosebumps in its wake, while his other hand travels down your chest, then your stomach, finally drawing circles when it stops between your thighs, ghosting over your panties before he tugs them down your legs, spreading them apart with a slight hum, pupils blown so wide that you can’t admire those chocolate hues anymore. 

He visually drinks in that sight of you, laid down on the couch, eyes squeezed shut, back arched, and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re completely at his mercy and his chest aches with need. “So pretty like this f’me,” he coos into your chest, pushing his middle finger inside of you. Making you feel so good that you can’t stop the gasps coming out of your lips.   

Pleasure shivers through everywhere he sucks and touches, his finger eases into you when he adds another one, a moan escaping you quickly. “Need to be in here, sweetheart, d’ya have any idea how much I missed this?” 

You don’t. You don’t know about the sleepless nights, the drunken ones, the drug-induced ones in an attempt to recreate the high you gave him. It’s fucked up, it’s insanely toxic. Yet, he can’t get enough of you. 

His gaze upon you is dangerous, maybe it’s because he had missed you so goddamn much, or maybe because he didn’t know where this would lead, but it felt fucking sentimental, different somehow, and he could feel you, everywhere on his skin.

Your hips start rocking up against him when the pad of his thumb flicks over your clit, making you arch your back, whines, mumbles leaving your lips. And all he can muster is, “so goddamn beautiful, look at you whining for me.”

You can feel his bulge rub against your thigh every now and then, it’s distracting, almost agonizing. You desperately need it inside of you, you had missed him, missed his touch, missed the feeling of him filling you to the brim, you missed seeing his face contort in pleasure when he was inside of you, you wanted him to never forget you again. 

That’s why you feel so numb, can barely speak, and of course, Eddie notices, how unusually quiet you are, and he wants to make this unforgettable, just so you have another reason to come back to him. Just so you don’t leave him, just so you stay forever. 

“Gone too quiet on me, honey, tell me what you need,” he coos down at you, thumb still caressing your pussy, and all you can fucking do is chew down on your bottom lips, eyeing his bulge that was begging to get out. And he barks out a goddamn chuckle, “P—please, Eddie.” Pathetically leaves your lips. 

And normally he would make you beg, tease further, but he reaches to tug down his pants quickly, because fuck, he had missed you. And he can’t bear the thought of not being inside of you any longer. 

Thinking is not your strongest suit right now either, your brain is mushy, all the nights and days spent thinking about him, about this explodes into your body. Your pussy aches when you finally see his cock again, a sound of need leaving your lips as you eye his length, so big that pleasure ripples through you, especially when you see his gushy tip, glistening with pre-cum. 

You want every fucking inch inside of you, and Eddie’s more than ready to oblige, “What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

“Need you, Eddie,” you moan, all fucked out, his fingers slip in and out of you still, but it isn’t enough for him. He needs more, he craves your validation like he never has before. 

“God, you’re soakin’ my fingers, princess,” he grunts, wedging himself between your thighs, weeping cock drips onto your inner thighs, making you moan breathlessly. “Tell me exactly what you fuckin’ want, honey.”

“Eddie.” His name sounds like silk, even when it’s so lewd, Eddie decides, and it makes him let out an impatient huff. “P—please. Need you to fuck me.” It’s so goddamn desperate that you can feel heat rise to your cheeks, but it’s everything to him.

“Want you to fuck me like you mean it.”

“Oh, that’s easy, sweetheart,” he grunts, lining his cock through your entrance, coating himself in your slick, enjoying your mewls before he doesn’t hesitate to push his cock inside of you, inch by inch, relishing the way you cry out for him. 

Greedily, you rock your hips into him, making him let out a frustrated groan. “Have no fuckin’ idea how much I missed this greedy cunt, sweetheart, shit.” He thrusts in a few more inches, and breathless moans and babbles of his name fill the air.

“Suckin’ me right in, baby, fuck, you’re so pretty like this, mhmm.” His cock moves inside of you, and your hands are wrapped around his back, desperately clawing at it, the fullness making you want more, “you like that, baby, like bein’ full of me?” A heavy sound leaves his lips, pathetic and you pulse around him. 

“S’so good Eddie, and s’big,” you barely manage to let out, and he watches you with that burning amber gaze, thrusting all the way in without hesitation. Those plushy lips that hang open, that filthy mouth, the prettiest fucking features—you, were going to be the death of him. 

Maybe it’s because you had missed him, or maybe because you hadn’t experienced this in a long time, or fuck, maybe, just maybe that the song had created a new type of need between the two of you. Using sex as a sort of connection that the both of you desperately needed. But, shit, was it this different this time. 

He felt different—his lips, touch, skin as it slapped against yours, it was different. 

Full. You feel so fucking full that your back involuntarily arches against him, fingers clenching desperately, your screams and cries filling the room the more he plunges inside of you, deeper, hungry, and just as greedy as you. 

“Yeah, better than that asshole?” It rolls off his lips so bitter and jealous that you can barely register it. Not being used to this possessive side of him, and it’s glorious, especially when he’s pounding his frustrations and insecurities into you. 

“Mhmm, so much better.” You clawed at his back, every thrust of his hip making you feel higher and higher, mind filled with nothing but him. 

“So pretty like this when you say my name, sweetheart… so goddamn beautiful, and all mine, yea?” He wants a confirmation, and wants to hear you say it, his head ducking between your breasts again to kiss, taste, suckle them. Make sure he never forgets it. 

“Wanna hear you say it.” He hums, the vibrations reverberating through your chest straight into your core, cock plowed so deep inside of you that you can barely speak through your cries, hitting that sweet spot that every other asshole misses. 

You’re too scared to give him what he wants. But you feel him, everywhere, and you still want more, of course, you’re his. That’s all you fucking wanted anyway. Plushy lips shake as you gaze up at him, his amber hues are so sticky-sweet that you still struggle to process it, words come out in a ramble “All yours, Eddie.”

His mouth crashes onto yours roughly, desire coursing through both of your bodies, almost interconnected. “Shit, fuckin’ hell sweetheart, ‘m not gonna last long.” His thrusts are getting sloppier, yet you feel the ravaging desire coursing through your veins. 

“So perfect,” he murmurs, the kiss he lays on your lips just as relentless, not letting you breathe or think for a goddamn second, you’re so goddamn close.

And you wonder, how the fuck did you even go two months without this? Without him?

“Eddie!” You cry out once you feel the pad of his thumb rubbing against your clit, eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm washes over you. Pure bliss overtakes you while you claw at his back, his body tenses, and cock flexes as he cums inside of you, groans and curses left in your hair. 

Minutes pass of you lying next to each other, breathless, processing everything that just transpired. And you should feel guilty, embarrassed, and should run to the hills for doing this with him again. 

But you’re obsessed, addicted. He’s like an excitement that you’re sure you’ve never felt before, running through your veins, like a fucking drug. 

Both of you get dressed in silence, the party booming outside is quick to bring the two of you back to reality, and out of the trance that he pulled you in. 

He breaks your bewilderment with a slight “Fuck.” Standing on the opposite side of the bed before he fully turns to you. “This wasn’t—I was supposed to talk to you.” He mutters, fingertips anxiously running through his tousled hair.

Caught off guard and awfully curious, you mumble, “About what?”

“The song…”

“I told you I liked it.”

His brow furrows deeper, and he shakes his head in frustration. “No, that’s not it—uh, did you not listen to the lyrics?”

“I did.”

“And?”

Your face searches his for some clarity, you take a step closer to him, the distance between the two of you was still awfully much according to him. “What are you asking of me, Eddie? Did you really think one song would just solve everything?”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“W—what am I supposed to get Eddie? You wanna have your cake and eat it too! And I just can’t fucking do that, not anymore.”

“That’s—that’s not it!” His voice wavers, with urgency, and desperation in his tone. He takes a step forward, attempting to bridge the emotional gap, feeling so fucking frustrated that he wants to rip his hair out.

“Then fucking explain it to me!” You plead. 

“You want an explanation, fine! Fucking fine!” His frustration echoed through the room, pacing back and forth, making you take a deep breath. 

Was he… actually gonna do this? 

“You wanna know what the fuck I’ve been doing ever since you ghosted me?” He ran a hand through his hair, scared, gaze all mellow and vulnerable in a way you have never seen before. It makes your shoulders slump when you nod. 

“I go to those stupid Hollywood parties, meet asshole rockstars—the most interesting shit, yet somehow someway the thought of you will pop up in my mind, uncalled for, might I add, and then I can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop thinking about you the whole fucking day.” Your eyes widen, trying to absorb his revelation, yet he won’t stop rambling and you feel your chest tighten with each word, fuck, he’s finally doing it.

“I—I never—shit! I never thought myself capable of feeling things like this, but fuck, you came along, with that goddamn smile, throwing a manicured middle finger right in my face, a—and just put up with my bullshit.” His voice softened, and he couldn’t help but trace the contours of your face, to desperately know if you were on the same boat, and you look at him with such glistened eyes that his heart leaps to his stomach. 

“My world flipped upside down, and you have proven me, so goddamn wrong that I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore!” The tears almost welled in your eyes, because, fuck, there was no way this was real.  

You reached out instinctively, the corner of your mouth twitching uncontrollably. “E—Eddie, please… please stop saying things you don’t fucking mean.” 

“Things I don’t mean?” He gives you a breathy chuckle, ironic, and nowhere near funny. His eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. “Do you think I like feeling whatever the hell this is? I fucking don’t, you have me acting like someone I’m so unfamiliar with, to the point where it scares me. All I can think about is you, you, you, because you occupy every single space of my mind.” Your eyes soften, the room seemingly pulsing with his emotions, making you feel hot everywhere on your body. 

He felt the same way.

Eddie felt the same way. 

“B—but fuck I’m scared, honey, I’m so goddamn scared,” He admits, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the tension before he’s at your side, calloused hands grabbing you by the shoulder, so softly that you melt into him.

“Because what if—what if all of this comes crashing down one day?” His voice trembles, gaze avoiding yours, he was scared, so goddamn scared of losing you. Forever. He doesn’t want that, he couldn’t afford that. 

“Just two months away from you fucking sucked. I didn’t—I don’t wanna feel these things, but you make it so hard not to.”  His forehead rests against yours, making you suck in a deep breath, it’s all so fucking sentimental, and all you wanna do this kiss him, tell him you feel the exact same way. Tell him about your fears. 

“And now I can’t fucking stop, fuck,” He confesses, admission punctuated by a frustrated sigh. 

“I wrote you a song,” he gently caresses your cheek, and you’re so scared to look up at him, to meet his tender gaze, because you know you can’t hold yourself back. 

“I came over to this party in a frenzy when I found out you’d be here,” he continued, his fingers tracing a delicate pattern along your jawline. “I—I just I haven’t even been able to touch another girl.” Your eyes snap open, you’re sure they’re almost heart-shaped now, with the adoration you look at him.

“And, do you actually fucking think I'd write songs for just anyone—” His question lingers in the air before you shut him up with a kiss, rough, sweet, and making Eddie feel dizzy all over, his head struggles to comprehend it all, breathless but he manages to react just in time.

The booming music becoming a mere background noise when he had you, mind swirling with all the possibilities and mouth begging to never stop tasting you. He wants to let you completely engulf him, feel you everywhere.

Everything he wanted and more.

He fucking hates himself for doing this, but he pulls away, mesmerized, eyes so wide that you can’t believe this is Eddie, he’s all flustered, salmon pink. And it makes a wider grin sit on your lips. “So… you—uh, what does this mean?”

You smile at him, lips widely stretching into a grin, as you shrug. “It means I feel the same, Eddie.” you admit, tone a tender reassurance. “That’s why I tried to shut you out… to try to move on, because I was scared—fuck, but I feel the same way.”

“So, does that mean we're dating now?”

“We can take things slow, figure everything out?” you mutter with a shy gaze, lips itching to twitch into a smile, again. “But I—uh—I like you, I really, really like you.”

“Gone soft on me already, sweetheart?” he mumbles with a stupid grin, making you elbow him softly, with an exaggerated playful huff. 

He’s quick to flinch, rubbing his arm as if you even delivered a powerful blow. “Ow—what the hell is wrong with you?”

“You think I’m going soft? You’re the one who wrote his feelings as an exaggerated love song!” 

He leans further slightly, his grin widening when you gave him those adorable eyes, finding you both equally amusing and endearing. “Oh… just you wait.”

You arched a brow, curiosity piqued, “What the hell does that mean?”

“The album is coming out soon, sweetheart. If you think this was an exaggeration, you should hear the whole fucking thing.”

That glint re-appears in your eyes just as quickly, gaze softening as you melt into his embrace.

“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.” You tease, scrunching your nose at him, so adorably that he leans down and presses a gentle kiss onto your hair.

He's an idiot, a total complete fucking idiot, but he's all yours.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being the Justice League’s computer intelligence

Justice League x reader

warnings:

a/n: THANKS BABE. this is such an old request i am so freaking sorry

prompt: anonymous: “Hello! I would like to request a Justice League (DC Extended Universe) + Reader who is sort of their 'Person in the Chair' - helping behind the scenes to keep their weapons/powers/skillset in tact, but is not afraid to fight back if necessary? I would like these to be a set of headcanons, please? Thank you and Happy Writing! P.S. You're writing is incredible!”

you and alfred got along well

“glad i’m not the only one doing the grunt work anymore” -alfred

“and i was under the impression you loved this job” -you, sarcastically

you could frequently be found switching between important sites that actually helped during missions and reddit

“alfred hang on i want your opinion on this: ‘am i the asshole for trying on my bosses suit? i (25m) work with some pretty famous people and my boss (45m) has a really cool suit. it’s a little stiff but i think i like it. anyways, there’s a matching hat (if you will) and it smells AWFUL, so i sprayed it with febreeze but it only made it worse—’” -you

“hang on. this cant be…” -alfred

“HOW DID YOU FIND MY REDDIT ACCOUNT?!” -barry, over comms

“your name is scarletspeedster, and we’ve been trying to wash that febreeze smell from the cowl for weeks.” -you

“my god, barry. next time, just use an old suit” -alfred

“really?!” -barry

“no” -you and alfred

you do a lot of gadget/weapon design with JL members

“it’s acceptable” -bruce

“wow, thanks” -you

“it’s…it’s good work. i mean it” -bruce

diana sits with you and tells you stories, sometimes theyre very informational

“so if you ever do end up fighting, you’re going to want to craft a very nice sword for yourself. i know you’re good at that, you’ll do just fine” -diana

barry nerds out with you sometimes

he gets real excited when he sees you designing stuff on the computer

and tries to be helpful

“wind resistance might be a problem with this design, you should go sleeker” -barry

“hey, barry? if you don’t let me do my job im gonna design a tool specifically to shut you up” -you

“harsh!” -barry

“sorry, maybe a little too far. but let me work” -you

arthur wanted cooler clothes

“can i get you some material from atlantis so you can make me a nicer suit?” -arthur

“only if you bring me extra so i can have fun with it” -you

“not a problem for the king, its a deal” -arthur

clark didn’t really need/want much

but he was a great help when testing new weapons and suits

“can you just…laser vision that target right ahead. new suit material” -you

“yeah, stand back” -clark

it held for a good 20 seconds

“better than i thought” -you

you were their eyes in the sky on missions

directions, lookout, enemies, obstacles, detours, you name it

and yeah, maybe victor could also do a great deal of this stuff, but you got to do it behind the scenes and you actually got paid pretty well for it

but occasionally you did ask him for tech support

“victor, the batcomputer froze” -you

“i know, i did that on purpose” -vic

“can you unfreeze it so i can see what’s going on?” -you

“what’s the password?” -vic

*sigh* “ilovevicstone123” -you

diana let you spar with her sometimes

which honestly scared you every time bc you know she could kill you if she wanted to (but you knew she would never)

(but she could)

you’d never be apart of the justice league, which was very okay with you because you loved being behind the scenes and not being shot at

and so long and you had tea with alfred while the rest of them were kicking ass, you’d manage

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @summersimmerus // @deanzboyfriend // @zoeyserpentluck // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //