#i think i have most of this correct but if there are glaring mistakes just let me know :)

[deadhands69]

A Fantasy with Nice Shoulders

MDNI

Katsuki Bakugo helps you after you're hit with a sex quirk, based on the same idea as the Shigaraki one here

Katsuki Bakugo x gn/afab reader

All characters in 3rd year, over 18 and you should be too if you're reading this

Warnings/Content/etc: soft but slightly possessive Bakugo, swearing, very light violence, oral (m/f receiving), slightly public/people listening, sex (various positions), walk of shame.

*the start’s a little angsty but idk how to write anything that doesn’t turn into mushy fluffy smut 

**a lot of feelings of not consenting to being hit by the quirk, but the actual physical interactions are very much consensual/have been wanted for a while

***this one’s long, it got a bit out of hand [4.9k words]

“They thought it would be funny” you hear someone say. A black cloud of dust had just dissipated, leaving a shocked Monoma and Mineta in the middle. “I don’t think they actually realized how dangerous what they did is” added another voice. 

You had all heard of the sex quirk villain terrorizing the city. Every news station had been talking about it all week. 

While on patrol for his internship this morning, Monoma picked the villain’s quirk up attempting to apprehend him to no avail. After some brief convincing from Mineta, they assumed it would be a fun prank to make all of the fem-bodied 3rd years a little horny. What they didn’t realize is this quirk doesn’t just make people a little turned on, it drives them to insanity if not dealt with. 

“A new article was posted on this today, the effects are worse than previously assumed.” you hear Iida’s nearly robotic voice over the crowd “It can cause permanent damage to quirks and mental stability if intercourse isn’t acted upon promptly!”

Oh, I could fucking kill them you think before launching yourself across the room. Monoma dodges and yells that he’s so sorry and will make it right before running out the door to get help. Mineta on the other hand, is still in shock.

You make quick work of him, leaving him tied to a chair in the common area covered in bruises. The teachers will arrive soon with Monoma and they can deal with it. Turning away and walking to your dorm room, you hear him hurling some insult at you but can’t be bothered to listen.

Most of your classmates are trickling out of the area. Fortunately, the others in your class affected by the quirk all seem to be taken care of. Your best friend Shoto is even leaving with his crush. You’re happy for him but can’t say it doesn’t hurt a bit that he didn’t bother to check on you. It’s not a big deal though, Momo needs help. 

And you’ll be fine. 

You think. 

Or maybe you won’t be.

The happiness for your friends using this as a catalyst to confess to their crushes feels sharply in contrast with the overwhelming loneliness and dread you feel walking back to your room alone. Sure, you have a crush on someone too but he left earlier this morning and you didn’t expect him to be back until tomorrow night. Bakugo frequently leaves on the weekends to visit his parents.

You consider texting Denki or Kiri for his number but they just left with their crushes as well and you’d rather not interrupt them. 

Besides, even if Bakugo was here, you don’t think that would make much of a difference. To put it lightly, he doesn’t seem to be into you. When you and Shoto hang out in the common area like you always do, his red eyes glare at you from across the room. Just seeing you seems to put him in a bad mood. He doesn’t even yell at you like everyone else, seeming to ignore your mistakes as if they aren’t worth his time to correct. He did argue with you once, the first day of school but when you threw it back at him he just stared at you. After that, he always seemed indifferent. It was disappointing, his sass seems like it could be fun sometimes. 

You’d since written it off as a lost cause and tried to move on. Still, there’s something that draws you to him that you can’t quite place. Something in his eyes that hints things could be different. 

You close the door to your dorm, comforted by the familiar space. Iida’s words ring out in your head again “...permanent damage...”

That’s just one article, maybe this won’t be as bad as they say you think before a dizzy spell makes you double over.

Flopping face first into your bed, you scream into your pillow.

Katsuki Bakugo just got back from the gym, walking into an uncharacteristically deserted common room. It is Saturday, right? His eyes light up when he sees Mineta still bound to the chair you left him in.

You didn’t fucking ask for this.

Someone finally snapped, good for them. He’s a little sad to have missed it. 

“What happened?”

Mineta stammers at the looming figure above him before blurting out random bits of the story. “t-the villain. Sex quirk. And Monoma- we thought it was harmless but then-”

Of course he’d heard all about this quirk, who hadn’t. Clearly Mineta.

“Are you that fucking stupid?”

“N-no we just thought-” 

Bakugo was losing interest, having put the dots together by now. At this point, Mineta was rambling how it would be okay, listing the names of their classmates who had left together.

“Jiro and Kaminari, Ochaco and Midor-”

“Raccoon eyes and Red, [y/n] and Icy Hot, yeah yeah”

“What? No. Todoroki didn’t leave with [y/n], he left with Momo.”

“Huh?” Curiosity replacing the disappointment in his voice. “Who’s with [y/n] then?”

“No one, they left alone. Serves them right. That delinquent’s the one who did this to me!”

“Glad someone finally did,” Bakugo mutters under his breath, smacking Mineta with a small blast while walking past him to the stairs.

Back in your room: you’re losing it. Every article says the same thing: you’re fucked. You’d read as many as you could before the overwhelming desire became too much to handle and you couldn’t keep track of the sentences anymore. You tried to fix it yourself too, but no matter how hard you tried your touch only seemed to amplify the problem. Leaving you feeling overheated, your panties desperately drenched. It’s only been fifteen minutes, this will get even worse.  

“Oh come on, you can’t just leave me here - wait!”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

It’s probably one of your friends, you think, wondering who would bang so loudly on your door (also who finished that quickly????) In the heat of the quirk, you’d taken off your hoodie - leaving you in a nearly see through white tank top and the tiny athletic shorts you’d been wearing all day. Your friend’s wouldn’t care though.

KNOCK KNOCK.

You make your way to the door, thighs clenching around your aching groin as you walk. Swinging it open, you find yourself face to face with a black skull hoodie. Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest before remembering, he doesn’t like you. And he’s not even supposed to be here this weekend. Why’s he here?

“Bakugo, why are you here?” you grumble, sounding much more gruff than intended.

“Uh, nice to see you too?” his fingers tap impatiently on the door frame next to your shoulder.

“Any other day, I’d love to word spar with you but today I just can’t.” you turn to close the door.

“Why? Are you mad your crush left with someone else?” 

“What?” you rub your eyes in confusion before getting distracted. Bakugo is hot in workout clothes on a normal day. This quirk was rendering it nearly impossible to concentrate on his words. Not with the way every muscle in his thighs appears to be sculpted into his pants, leading up to his-

“Icy Hot.” he repeats himself, “He left with pony tail. ‘s why you’re pissed, right?”

Oh, that. You’d forgotten about that.

“What? No. Shoto and I are just friends. Besides, he’s had a crush on her forever and she needed his help.” you say blankly.

“You needed help too though,” that one stung. He continues, “sounds like a shitty friend if you ask me.”

“Look. If you’re just here to criticize my friendships, I can’t deal with it right now. Are you done?“ your voice breaks. You step back slightly, hoping to hide in the dimness of your room. He’s not wrong, but you really don’t want him to see you cry. 

“I-” he notices the tear in the corner of your eye and knows that one hit too close. He’s off to a bad start. If he keeps talking like that, you’ll definitely slam the door in his face. 

Much more quietly he tries again. “Look. I didn’t mean to- fuck, I’m so bad this.” Biting his lip, he wipes his hands on his pants before shoving them in the front of his hoodie. His cheeks flush, making the scar under his eye look pale in comparison. Is he nervous? That can’t be it.

Regaining his composure, he looks back at you. “I came to see if you’re okay, if you n-need anything.” 

It’s the most quiet you’d ever seen him. He can’t look you in the eyes. Glancing down, he notices how see-through your shirt is before quickly looking away. He focuses hard on the walls of your room, hands still deep in his pocket.

Of course you’d always wanted Katsuki Bakugo in your dorm room, but assumed it would be different. You imagined that one day he’d start fighting with you like everyone else and fighting would turn into play fighting which would turn into him being nice every once in a while. You always assumed, under his prickly exterior, he’d be soft and sweet inside. You’d never seen it though. Not even when the prettiest girls in your school threw themselves at him, only to be on the receiving end of an explosion. Still, you hoped maybe one day you’d be the one who could break through that, finding something loving underneath. Your crush was all built on a fantasy, but it was a nice fantasy. A nice fantasy, with nice shoulders. 

Back to reality.

He at least thought to be here now, which is better than the apathy you were used to. It’s a start.

Closing the door behind him, you turn to walk back to your bed when the world shifts. The dizziness had been coming in waves, this is just another one. You could expect it now. Tensing to hit the ground, you’re engulfed by his athletic arms instead.

“Come in,” you whisper “I really don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Holy shit [y/n], you okay?” he holds you in his arms, looking down at your face.

“Oh, yeah. This has just been happening,” you trail off, hardly aware of what you’re saying. You’re trying to find up from down, only to find every direction your body leads you to is him.

“This has been happening the whole time??” his clenched jaw could easily be mistaken for anger but the waver in his voice gives away his concern. He doesn’t seem to mind you grasping his sweatshirt to right yourself. His body feels warm against you, much warmer than you - making you wonder how he’s managing to be so overdressed right now. Pulling closer, he feels firm under his soft worn hoodie. He smells like laundry detergent and deodorant, with a subtle sweetness. The throbbing in your tight shorts worsens, the quirk-induced ache leaves you feeling empty. You need more of this. More of him.

The dizziness passes and you’re back on your feet. He lets go of you but keeps his arms near as you steady yourself against the wall. 

Deep breath. If your friends managed to confess to their crushes today, you can too. Your situation might be a bit different, but he’s not stupid. He knew very well what he was walking into when he showed up. He has to expect this.

Here it goes. 

“Bakugo?”

“Yeah? D’ya need somethin?”

“I need your help.”

“Whaddya need?”

“You.”

He nods, understanding. “Yeah. I can do that.”

“Really?” That’s all it took? Holy shit.

“Pshh. What kind of a damned hero would I be if I can’t even fuck a sex quirk out of ya?” the mock confidence would normally make you cringe but he stepped closer and your face is now inches from his. His hands move to the wall behind you, caging you between his arms. Looking down at you, he pauses.

He wants to throw you on the bed. To shove you face first into the mattress and make you scream his name all day for every other girl in the dorms to hear while they’re being awkwardly fumbled by amateurs. He wants to fuck you as hard as he can, so good it’ll ruin anyone else for you. He wants to make everyone jealous of you. 

But when he’s right here with you. 

When he leans in closer. 

His lips barely brush against yours. 

Bringing his arms down from the wall, he cups your cheeks. Holding you softly, pulling you in closer but just as sweet. It isn’t the rough boldness you would expect from him, but it was explosive in its own way. Every subtle move of his lips drags up wishful feelings you’d been burying deep inside you for the past three years.

He pulls back for air, his heavy eyelids opening to see you confused at him.

“Oh.” you breathe.

“Did I do somethin wrong?”

“No, I just didn't expect that.”

He rolls his eyes. 

“You’re just being… nicer than I expected,” you clarify. Understatement of the fucking year.

“’m never mean to you” he mumbles. Even in the low lighting you can see how hard he’s blushing. To hide his embarrassment, he closes the gap between your lips again - this time with more confidence. Mouthes pressing together, his tongue dancing with yours.

Taking this as an invitation to move forward, your hands embrace his body. Exploring every inch you’d only dreamed of. The soft skin of his neck you’d grown accustomed to staring at sitting behind him in class. The ridges of his back you watch flex under his suit when he’s training. You take off his sweatshirt to run your hands over his arms, his black tank top giving you a better view of the muscles and scars that cover them. Fingers lingering on every curve. You pull your hands from the top of his chest down to his thighs. Your touch veers up his inner leg when his hand grabs your wrist, stopping you.

Grimacing at himself for the pause, he bites his lip to collect his words.

He definitely can’t say he hasn’t thought about doing this with you. He has. Constantly. To a point, he maybe wondered if it was unhealthy. It’s actually the reason he went to the gym this morning, he needed to think of anything else but your ass in the tiny little shorts you were wearing while casually making a cup of coffee. The ones you’re wearing now, pressed up against him.

But having you now? Like this?

“Wait.” His voice is gritty but softer than you’d expect.“What?” 

“Things ain’t gonna be weird with us, right?”

“No weirder than ever. Why?” 

He looks away momentarily. Not wanting to say it if you hadn’t been thinking the same thing. For his own sake though, he can’t bring himself to leave this unaddressed.

“Cuz I skipped a few steps, I was supposta take you out and stuff first.”

“Well, I’ll let you know to ask me out in advance next time I plan to get hit with a sex quirk.”

“‘m serious. ‘m not fucking this up.” 

“You can take me out later.” you smile, his eyes soften looking into yours. Something in his stare makes you melt like ice cream on a summer day. Is this the sweetness you’d always dreamed of?

Feeling too hot, you take off your tank top, throwing it on the ground nearby. His eyes drop and the corner of his mouth creeps into a smile. His hands move to your waist before gliding up to trace the shape of you. He follows your lead - pulling his shirt off and exposing the scars scattered over his toned body.

Granting your own wish, your hands trail down the V along his hips and into his pants. Closer, you need to be closer.

Without thinking you drop to your knees. The pants don’t leave much to the imagination, his outline appearing rock hard already (and he didn’t even get hit with that quirk). Peeling back the fabric, his cock bounces out heavily. It’s massive in a way that would usually scare you but with the audaciousness of a sex quirk taking over your inhibitions, you only want it more. Grasping the soft skin with both hands, you bring the dripping pink tip to your mouth. You have to. It’s so beautiful and you need it. He gasps as your tongue lolls out and you bob your head forward.   

One of his hands finds your neck, thumb gently caressing the back of your head; the other planted on his own face leaning over you with his elbow into the wall to steady himself. You watch his abs flex with every heavy breath before your eyes find his.  

“Fuck, you’re so fucking good” he groans. You moan at the sound of his voice, sending vibrations through him.

He doesn’t last long. To be honest, he’s a little embarrassed by this but he really had been thinking about you in these shorts all day and didn’t expect this to happen. Less than a minute later, his hips are sputtering while he whimpers “wait, [y/n] gonna cum.”

Perfect.

Even in your throat, you can’t take him all the way in at this angle. Increasing the speed of your hands, you pull your mouth back enough to look up at his face again while still working his sensitive tip. His brows furrow and he bites his lip, exhaling hard while gripping your hair tighter. 

“Fuck… cumming” he whines through clenched teeth. His dick gushing in your mouth.

You stare up into his crimson eyes, licking him while letting his load drip through your lips down your chest. The astounded look on his face says he’s into it. 

Milking out the last drop, you let him gaze at you while catching his breath. You grab your tank top to wipe your chest and face off but he’s already pulling you up before you can finish. Pressing you back into the wall. His lips find yours as he cups his hand around your cheek.

“So fucking pretty,” he mumbles between kisses, “now it’s my turn.”

Suddenly, his strong hands grip the backs of your thighs. Not removing his lips from yours, he carries you across the room to your bed. Laying you across his lap, he takes the shirt still in your hands and finishes cleaning his cum off of you. Still worked up, every touch he gives is met with your moans. Noticing this, he works his hands around your body. Lightly grazing and squeezing where he pleases. Taking off the shorts he’d been daydreaming about removing all day. You’re soaked through your panties, pressing hard into him as his fingers gently pass over you.

“Wanna sit on my face?” he asks, knowing you’re dying to grind into him any way you can.

Absolutely, you do.

A little too eagerly, you shove him back onto your bed - he doesn’t mind. First, you peel the wet fabric from between your legs. Climbing over him, you position yourself above his face. Your ankles slide under his shoulders, fingers tangling with his above his head to steady yourself. You slam into him, dropping harder than intended (okay, you really want this.) A bit rough, but you know Dynamite can take it. Slightly overwhelmed at your enthusiasm, he groans into you before his wet tongue laps at your folds. Sucking and biting at your clit as you ride his face. His hand follows over yours as you move to grip his blonde hair. 

You’re almost there.

KNOCK KNOCK.

“Hey, [y/n] are you okay in there?” Mina’s distinct voice sounds through your door, “we’re worried about you.”

“Yeah, I’m.. uhm. I’m good.” you yell back, trying (and slightly failing)  to control your breath.

Glancing down, Bakugo’s eyes light up. Without warning, he shoves his tongue into you. Your world spins.

“Fuckkk” you moan under your breath, gripping his hair harder. He’s enjoying this.

Of course the other hero students would immediately jump back into helping people, but now? There’s no way you’re answering the door right now.

Shoto inquires next,  “are you sure, we read more and-”

“Yeah, I’m- I’m fine!” you manage to get out before throwing your face down and exhaling hard into a pillow. You feel your pussy throb as you cream on his tongue. He’s still not slowing down, determined to make you break. His hands now squeezing hard around your thighs, pressing you into him.

“I think someone’s in there,” Mina giggles. 

“We should probably give them space, it’s the manly thing to do right?” Kirishima adds.

“Wait, I wanna know who it is!” Sero’s voice chimes in. 

How many people are out there??

“In that case,” Momo adds, “[y/n], I made these for you. I’ll leave them out here, okay? Hope you’re being safe!” Something slides under your door but you can’t make out what it is.

You continue to hold your breath, clenching around his relentless tongue.

Finally, their voices trail off down the hallway. Bakugo (you should probably call him Katsuki after that) lessens his grip allowing you to roll onto your bed. Pulling your face away from the drool and bite mark covered pillow, you start to catch your breath. He presses himself up, rubbing his messier than usual hair and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. After a quick kiss on your forehead, his heavy footsteps make their way to your door and back before throwing a few condoms on your bedside table.

Useful. Thanks Creati.

He decides it’s his turn to be on top. With your legs wrapped around his hips, he slowly presses forward. His tip slides into your wetness and you feel yourself stretch around him. Bringing his lips to yours, he kisses you like earlier - soft, passionate. He’s being so sweet you wonder how this is the same person who was just tongue fucking you, trying to get you to scream while all of your friends listened. The same person who grumbled and rushed past you this morning without a hello.

“Ready now?” he grins at you.

Considering his glacial pace, you weren’t really sure when it happened: he bottoms out in you before pausing. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, scratching them through his soft hair. Thoughts of who he was earlier blur away, taking in the feeling of him in you now. He slowly resumes movement. 

His tongue inside you felt amazing earlier, but his dick is even better. Hitting every sensitive spot you didn’t even know you had. He sucks your bottom lip into his, gently nipping as he picks up the pace. You’re panting hard, kisses becoming sloppier. He thrusts into you, harder and deeper.

“Fuck Katsuki,” you moan, “gonna cum.” 

“Do it. Cum on my dick,” he growls back, slamming harder into you.

Your throbbing cunt pulses around him while you scream in his ear (you'd feel bad but it's not like he can hear that well anyways.) Hands dragging down his back, pulling him in closer to you.

A jolt of pain amplifies your pleasure as his teeth connect with your throat. Biting down while he whimpers into your neck. You feel him pump into you, exploding white into you while you ride out the waves of your own orgasm.

As you both come down, you run your hands over his scared face. Wanting to cling to any moment of softness you can get from him. He closes his eyes, melting into your touch. 

“Thanks for your help,” you whisper in his ear.

“Help? Oh. Yeah,” his gravelly voice is soft against your cheek, “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, you don’t have to thank me.” He pulls out, leaving you feeling empty again.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks, tying a knot in the condom before tossing it.

You stand up. No dizziness yet. You test your quirk. Almost back to normal.

He picks up another condom from the table, giving himself a few strokes before putting it on.

“Again?” you ask.

“You’re not through the quirk yet, are you?” His red eyes pierce through you and you know there’s no use trying to hide anything from him.

“Almost.”

“I can do better than almost,” he smiles and find yourself pressed into the wall again. His calloused hands running over you in contrast to his smooth lips leaving a trail of small pecks over your neck. 

In one fluid motion, he grips the back of your legs, pulling you up while sliding you back onto his dick - this time faster with more ease. You gasp, clutching his shoulders while he roughly thrusts into you. 

“ya feel so good on my cock, you’re doing so fucking good,” he chokes out between heavy breaths, "you look so fucking pretty taking me like that."

The pressure in your gut rises every time he pounds into you before spilling out, sending pulses of satisfaction through your whole body. You shove your head into his shoulder, crying his name while he fucks you harder. Toes curling as your heels dig into his back.

Before you can catch your breath, he throws you back on your bed.

Strong hands pull you onto your knees, your back arched, and face finding your pillow again. Grabbing your ass to bring you closer, he penetrates you again. His fast pace resuming, making you whimper into your pillow.

His hands find yours, bringing his elbows to either side of your shoulders. Groaning in your ear “ya sound so fucking pretty, louder for me,” as he plows into you. You scream, feeling yourself pulse around him as your pleasure cascades through you.

“Ka-katsuki” you whine, the sound of his name in your voice sending him over the edge.

With another hard thrust, he stutters his hips into you, exhaling hard. For the third time today, you feel him flex in you, filling the condom. You stop biting your pillowcase to look at him. His bright eyes staring back at you through heavy lids.

He thinks you look so fucked out and pretty on your tear-stained pillow.

“You did so good,” he breathes, “you feel better now?”

“Definitely”

Definitely better but 

So.

Fucking.

Exhausted. 

A sliver of light slices through your room. Your hands move across the bed but it’s empty.  Yesterday feels like a hazy dream. The ache between your legs reminds you it was definitely real. Your neck and hips are sore too, must have fallen asleep at a weird angle. Blinking your eyes open wearily, there’s a note on the pillow next to you. 

You know you should clean up more, go to the bathroom down the hallway but you’re so tired you can’t manage to do more than melt into your sheets. The last thing you remember before drifting off to sleep is Katsuki helping you get dressed for bed and wrapping himself around you.

Had to leave early this morning for extra training but let me buy you coffee. Text me when you wake-up and we can meet at that place on the edge of campus.

Katsuki xxx-xxx-xxxx

You check your phone. 

[you have 57 new messages and 14 missed calls] 

The latest few, from Mina, asking who’s in your room. Quickly, you swipe them away. That’s a long story and you’re not sure how you’ll tell it. You can deal with it later. You text Katsuki. 

You [heading out now, meet at the coffee shop?]

Katsuki [see you soon]

Getting ready in a rush, you quickly throw some pants on before brushing your teeth, pulling your hair out of your face, and heading down the stairs.

Walk normal you remind yourself on the way into the common room, trying to look like Katsuki hadn’t spent half of yesterday pounding his massive dick into you. The rest of the class doesn’t know that yet and considering that it’s new, you aren’t really sure if he wants them to know. That probably wouldn’t be the best way for them to find out, anyways. 

Ochoco’s voice beams behind you “Hey [y/n], you’re alive! We were so worried about you!” 

“Hey Ochoco! Yeah, I’m okay!” you yell back.

Hearing you’re awake, Mina runs from the couch to hug you. “Hey!!!” Her eyes widen. “You had a good night!” she says before giggling “I’ll text you!”

Mineta scoffs at the sight of you before getting far out of your way. Good.

Tsuyu, Iida, and Jiro all stare from the couch, they wave back politely but avoid eye contact. 

Denki high-fives you. 

Sero also high-fives you before running to the couch and handing Jiro money. Is this about beating up Mineta? They can’t possibly know about anything else.

Deku looks mortified. “Uhm.” He grabs at the collar of his shirt.

Is there something on your sweatshirt? Using the window by the exit as a mirror, you check.

Oh, shit. There’s more than something on your sweatshirt. 

Tiredly, you assumed the hoodie you woke up in was yours; this one has a big white skull on the front. Peaking out above that, a massive bite mark covers half your neck. You pull the hood up but it still doesn’t cover it.

You [just looked in the mirror]

You [why didn’t you warn me???]

Katsuki [now everyone knows ur mine 🧡]

[you have 8 new messages]

[steviesbicrisis]

A Barbie AU where the Kens decide, in order to get some recognition, to get individual names.

Steve, who’s just a Ken very good with kids, is having an identity crisis after his Barbie, journalist Barbie, broke up with him.

Not even picking a name as unique and special as Steve, so much different than Ken, managed to cheer him up.

Everyone keeps saying he should be happy about the change, and discover who he is outside of Barbie’s orbit, but he can’t see what was so wrong in their relationship. He loved waiting all day for Barbie to look at him, even if it was for a brief second.

As if going through an existential crisis wasn't enough, he has to do it under the constant mocking of his archnemesis, Ke- Eddie.

Eddie, with his long curly and annoyingly gorgeous hair, who has a sense of style he would give all of his rollerblades for, and who's always there to notice whenever Steve makes a mistake.

Eddie even has his Barbie still by his side, cheerleader Barbie, and every time Steve sees them together he gets a sick feeling in his stomach, like a tummy ache. Doctor Barbie visited him a couple of times and found nothing wrong with him, he imagines he's a little jealous of Eddie for being with a Barbie.

Steve talks about this with Polyglot Barbie, his best friend, annoying her to death.

"Why are we talking about Ken, again?" she interrupts Steve's retelling of his last encounter with Eddie.

"It's Eddie" Steve corrects her.

"Right," she nods. She's very supportive of their silly-name-thing (how most Barbies call it), but she still has trouble remembering all the names, "why are we still talking about him?"

They're hanging out at the park, sitting under a tree, Barbie's leg on top of his, and they're holding hands. It's nice. Steve is happy to have a best friend like Barbie.

Steve looks up, meeting Eddie's gaze. He's sitting at one of the picnic tables not far away from them, doing nothing besides glaring at Steve.

Barbie squeezes his hand to get his attention back, and Steve looks away.

"Because he keeps tormenting me! he's even glaring at me right now, I'm gonna get stress wrinkles!" Steve finally replies, in a distressed tone.

"You're being dramatic," she says, matter-of-factly, "Eddie isn't so bad with you. You know, he kinda treats you like his Barbie."

If Steve had a beating heart, it probably would've stopped right at this second.

"What?"

"You know, he's always looking for you, he is always giddy whenever you give him a crumble of attention. He hangs out where you hang out... why do you think he's sitting all alone at a picnic table, just staring at you?"

"Maybe he's waiting for his girlfriend" he suggests.

"Are you talking about Cheerleader Barbie?" she giggles, "she's not his girlfriend, trust me."

"But he picks on me! all the time! Like this morning, I tripped and he made a comment about my legs!" He gestures at his legs with his free hand.

Barbie tilts her head to the side "you mean this morning at the beach when he held you in his arms for ten minutes to prevent you from falling and Barbie had to tell him to let you go?"

"… yeah” he manages to say. He hadn’t realized how long Eddie held him in his arms, he was upset about almost falling in front of him, but he also liked the feeling of his arms around him.

Everything feels different now.

Barbie's look softens "How does this make you feel?"

"I don't know" he answers, honestly "I just can't stop thinking about him."

A loud noise at their right startles them off of their conversation. They turn around to see Eddie lying on the floor, a trash can at his feet.

Steve doesn't give himself the time to realize that Eddie has probably heard their entire conversation and has tripped on that trash can because of it, he just rushes to Eddie's side to help him out.

Eddie stammers while Steve pulls him back up, not making much sense.

Steve is used to see Eddie as an intimidating guy, someone to compete with for Barbie’s attention. He never realized how much he liked to have Eddie’s attention instead, nor how he loved to give that attention back in equal amount.

“Nice legs” he tells him, repeating the same words Eddie told him that morning.

Eddie stops his incoherent stream of words when he hears him “what?”

“You heard me” Steve says.

“I did” Eddie admits. He pulls the trash can back up, to have an excuse to not look at Steve when he asks “you can’t stop thinking about me?”

For some reason, that’s the easiest question Steve has ever had to answer to “yes, I can’t.”

Eddie jolts back up startling Steve, the trash can falling out of his hands and hitting the ground once again.

“Cool” he says, using all of his willpower to hide his excitement by keeping a relaxed face, failing miserably.

“I guess” Steve grins. Knowing he has that effect on Eddie is making him the most confident he has ever felt in his life.

“So, since you can’t stop thinking about me…” Eddie repeats, in a tone that Steve would’ve mistaken for a mocking one until few hours ago “…we could hang out on the beach later. I’ll bring my guitar.”

“I’ll bring mine too then” Steve replies immediately.

Eddie panics “We can’t both have a guitar!”

Steve crosses his arms on his chest “who says that?”

Eddie opens and closes his mouth a couple of times then mutters, defeated, “fine.”

“Great!” Steve takes a step forward and gives Eddie a peck on his cheek “I’ll see you later.”

Eddie, who makes a face again trying to hide his excitement, nods and turns away “cool.”

He walks away slowly, towards the park’s exit. Right by the gate, he throws himself into an hedge. Steve can clearly hear him when he screams words along the lines of “FINALLY”, “I HAVE A DATE” and “SUBLIME”.

Steve turns to Robin who has witnessed the whole thing, while Eddie is still screaming random words from the bushes.

“I think I’m in love.”

[logansdoll]

ivy, l. howlett (2)

you try to get to know your mystery man a little better... but big brother is always watching.

CW: canon typical violence, gore, guns, mutation, profanity, innuendos, mature themes, mentions of sex, y/n is very poison ivy-esque, jean grey exists but is not present, etc.

"I think you'll be comfortable here," you assured, turning on the bedside light as you tossed a few spare blankets on the foot of Logan's bed.

"Where is your room?" he asked, innocently, his hands resting behind his back.

You raised a brow, but brushed off your slight surprise, turning on another lamp.

"Down the hall," you answered, honestly. "But I spend most of my time in the greenhouse."

He let out a soft chuckle, glancing at you out the corner of his eye as he opened the closet doors, inspecting it.

"Is that your gift? You got a green thumb?" he taunted, turning to face you.

"I'm a chlorokinetic," you corrected, unamused. "I can control plants."

"Really? What kinds of plants?" he gasped, falsely.

Instantly, the fern in the corner of the room extended and slammed the closet door shut, Logan watching with intrigue as it slowly receded back into the pot.

"I also have some communicative ability," you walked over to his bedside, sitting down on the edge and mindlessly adjusting the pillows. "It varies based on the species, but the professor is teaching me to develop it."

"I'm sure he is," he nodded, slowly stalking closer until he stood right before you, forcing you to look up at him.

God, your eyes...

The intensity of their warm brown sent a tender buzz through his chest.

"So say what that fern thinks about me."

"I'd rather not," you smirked, resting your hands on the bed as you leaned back. "He's not the nicest, and I'd hate for your feelings to be hurt."

"C'mon," he egged, his voice lowering to a deep whisper, sending shivers down your spine. "You afraid he might like me more than you?"

"I doubt it."

He raised a brow, silently asking again—and the look likely would've left you weak in the knees if you were standing.

With a playful sigh, you caved, turning to Ferdinand to hear what he had to say, letting out a quiet snicker at his colorful language before turning back to Logan.

"You look like dive-bar frequenting lumberjack, with a weird ass haircut and a shitty beard," you relayed, verbatim. "He's still going, of course, but I think you get the gist."

For the first time since you met him, Logan let out a genuine laugh, tickled by the gusto of the houseplant.

"That's—" "Ahem," a familiar voice cleared his throat, forcing you both to turn your attention to the door.

'Shit.'

"Scott," you greeted with a sigh, slowly standing up from the bed.

You didn't need telepathy to figure out he was a little more than pissed...

You'd gone against a direct order, and were caught in the act.

'Rookie mistake...'

 Turning back to the lumberjack, you glanced at him with a knowing look, giving him a soft pat on the shoulder, "Good night, Logan," you wished, stepping past him and exiting the room.

Though not without giving Scott a sharp, sideways glare.

But he paid it no mind, instead focusing his attention on the stranger in the room.

"You gonna tell me to stay away from your girl?" Logan cocked brow.

"My girl is away on business," Scott corrected, resting his arms behind his back.

"Hmm. Well, then, I guess you've got nothing to worry about, do ya, Cyclops?" Logan smirked, strolling toward the man.

"Yeah, it must just burn you up that a boy like me saved your life, huh?"

Logan's amusement died fast, along with his playful expression.

But Scott pressed right on, pleased to see he struck a nerve, and hoping to strike another.

"She is entirely out of your league," he stated, seriously. "So do yourself a favor and don't even bother."

And with that he shut the door, leaving Logan to steam on the other side.

'Don't even bother, my ass...'

Scott might've been right about you being out of his league—you were a gorgeous, intelligent woman with a sense of humor, who probably wouldn't give him the time of day in any other instance—but Logan liked a challenge.

And he'd be damned if he let some pretty boy tell him who he could and couldn't pursue.

"You went against a direct order—" "We were just talking, Scott," you rolled your eyes, watering Monique, your huge Monstera Deliciosa.

She was nestled nicely in the corner—perfect for indirect natural light—blending seamlessly with the countless array of other plants.

In fact, your room looked more akin to a forest than anything, green seeming to sprout from every nook and cranny, even the canopy of your bed covered in ivy and varying species of flowers.

"It looked a little more than that from where I was standing."

"Even if we weren't, that's none of your business," you scoffed, moving on to the palms. "You're not my keeper."

"But I am your leader," he corrected, firmly. "When I tell you something, I expect you to listen. Logan is bad news, and I'm not gonna let you get roped up in his mess."

"He's a chronic amnesiac with an attitude problem," you turned to him, incredulously, crossing your arms over your chest. "I assure you, I can handle him."

"It's not a matter of handling. I don't want him trying anything with you."

You and Scott, along with Ororo and Jean, had known each other since you were kids under the professor's tutelage, and with you as the youngest of the group—though not much younger than them—Scott assumed the role of an older brother.

And throughout your childhood, especially in your teens, he chased away any boy that seemed to take even the slightest liking to you.

A habit he held on to well into your twenties, and a habit that you appreciated just about as much as you did back then.

Which was not at all.

"Scott, with all due respect, I am a grown woman. And this beat the boys away routine you got going on is getting seriously old," you warned, seriously.

"I don't want to see you get hurt," he pressed on, not letting up, "And trust me, I know guys like Logan, and they only bring pain and heartbreak."

"That is exactly what you said about that boy from Louisiana," you pointed an accusatory finger at him. "I think his name was Rodney or Rudy or something..."

"'Cause he was exactly the same!" Scott scoffed, disbelieving of your inability to see the patterns. "I hate to break it to ya, (n/n), but you have terrible taste in men."

"Excuse me?!"

But before you could fire back with a retort, a roar suddenly echoed throughout the house, along with a scream of terror.

Instinctively, you reached out to all the plants in the house, finding its source almost instantly.

"Logan," you realized, eyes wide as you raced out of the room, Scott right behind you.

Running out into the hall, you looked both ways, freshly awakened kids sticking their heads out their rooms to see the commotion.

"Somebody help!" Logan shouted, voice laced with panic.

You didn't have time to worry about them.

Quickly, you sprinted down the hall, the two of you barging into his room, only to find Rogue standing there, touching his cheek and seemingly draining his life force.

It looked like he'd stabbed her with his claws, and she was taking his power to close the wound.

'Holy shit...'

Scott cut on the lights just as Ororo joined you, the girl finally letting Logan go, the poor man dropping to the ground like dead weight, seizing.

"It was an accident," Rogue turned to Ororo, guiltily, before running out the room.

You swiftly moved to Logan's side, dropping to your knees to help, "Scott, grab me a pillow," you ordered, leaving no room for argument.

He quickly moved to grab one, you using your powers to grow Ferdinand much larger and stronger, before wrapping his fronds around Logan's body to act as restraints.

'This should keep him front hurting himself.'

"Pillow," Scott nodded, handing it to you.

You took it gratefully, carefully lifting Logan's head and placing it down on top.

"He'll have to ride it out. But with his healing factor I'm not too worried," you assured, brushing a loose strand of hair out his face.

With that out the way, Ororo turned to the crowd of children gathered at the door, scolding.

"Off to bed. All of you. There's nothing to see here," she ushered them away, exiting the room.

Now just you and Scott, you let out a sigh, standing up and running a hand through your hair.

You could practically feel Scott's I told you so look burning through his glasses.

"Shut up."

"I told you... bad news."

[jazzyoranges]

Saw you take requests!! Can you do a fluffy Wednesday x Shape shifter!Reader (no smut please) where it's Wednesday's writing time but she can't think of ideas so reader turns into a cat and curls up on Wednesday's lap? Basically helping Wednesday by making sure Wednesday can't get up until she writes a chapter. Thanks!

Orange kitty - drabble

Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Words: 0.8k

A/n: i feel like we as a fandom haven’t been putting the orange cat x black cat trope in enough fics. this is me advocating for orange cat!r

“I feel your eyes on me, (Y/n).”

“I’m not allowed to look at my friend anymore?”

“It’s distracting. You’re inhibiting me from writing.” Wednesday isn’t fully lying. She just doesn’t add how you give her an odd feeling. An odd feeling she doesn’t like.

“Aww, do I make you nervous, Wens?” You laugh, deciding to ignore the glare she sends your way

“Keep talking and I’ll remove your voice box.”

“Please, I think you’d miss me too much” You roll your eyes, stretching on Wednesday’s bed

You turn into a cat as per Thing’s request, and you two start to play tag around Wednesday and Enid’s shared room. Thing happily bragged that you and him were better friends once. His hubris only resulted in Wednesday taking away his favorite lotions for an entire week.

The Addams girl huffs when she, yet again, makes a mistake on her typewriter. This was unlike her. The tiny trash can under her desk was nearing being full only after one or two hours of her failed attempts at writing. Wednesday put her hands in her lap after she realized her words only became futile

The abrupt stop of clacking keys makes you turn your head, giving Thing the perfect opportunity to tag you back on Enid’s bed. You quickly turn human again with almost a cartoon-ish pop, and ask Thing if Wednesday was allergic to cats

“She’s not, why do you ask?” He signs

“Do you think she’d kill me if I sat on her lap?” You sign back, not wanting Wednesday to hear

“As a human, most definitely. But if you were a cat maybe she’d tolerate you. No promises, though” Thing somehow shrugs using his thumb and pinkie finger as arms. God, you loved the weird appendage

“I can hear you two talking. I’d prefer if you’d leave me in silence.”

“Writers block?”

“No, I’m merely thinking of the correct words to use.”

“Maybe you should ask Enid for help. The woman can reach over the Twitter character limit in like… three seconds. Two if she’s really excited”

“Recommend such a horrid idea again and I’ll release you in my pen of hellhounds.”

“We both know I’d win” You cockily smirk, again ignoring what looks to be annoyance on Wednesday’s face. Then again, she always looked annoyed

“Your hubris is laughable. Let’s see how you suffice when your digestive system is ripped open.”

“Tempting, but I’d rather stay here with you”

You can only assume Thing listens with watchful… fingers? You execute your plan to him, and a quick pinkie-promise indicates he gets to bury you if Wednesday decides to kill you after the stunt you’re about to pull

“Hey, Wens?” The Addams doesn’t show any form of talking but you decide to keep going

“Did you know people say cats can lessen anxiety?”

The Addams hums in acknowledgement, so you continue

“Well, I don’t exactly believe it”

“And why is that.” Wednesday sighs. Sometimes she wonders why she indulges in you

“I dunno, just seems fake. I was wondering if you’d do an experiment with me?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Great! Thanks, Wens” You give Thing a quick wink after turning into a cat and hopping up onto her desk. Turning your head to the side as if you were asking a question, you looked at Wednesday for an answer

You were crazy, but not crazy enough to do something to make Wednesday hate you

For some reason, the Addams girl doesn’t even have a second chance to think before scooting back her chair. You’re about to jump into her lap with a paw over the edge of her desk, but you glance up to make sure Wednesday was sure. You receive a small nod

The action is enough to make you whisper a small “thank you” but it only comes out as a small meow

You circle around her lap for a good area to lay, and you quickly take your spot with a tiny smile that makes your eyes close. Wednesday scoots her chair back in, and she has absolutely no idea what to do.

Only when you start to purr a shiver goes up her spine. The vibrations are light, and something about you happily laying on her lap makes you chip away at Wednesday’s walls the tiniest bit. She contemplates where to put her hands before Thing scurries on top of you to scratch behind your ear. Wednesday shoots him a deathly glare in return, but your favorite Addams (don’t tell Wednesday) stays put

As if showing Wednesday how to pet a cat, Thing gets off of your back and points a finger in your direction. Hesitantly, the Addams girl copies the actions Thing showed her

And you? You were having an amazing time. Wednesday’s fingers were cold but every stroke of her hand was calculated. She took note of which spots you purred louder, and continued her movements

Fuck you and your ability to get what you want, Wednesday thinks. Of course your smug ass knew cats lessened anxiety. Of course.

But Wednesday can’t help being addicted to your tiny purrs and vibrations

With her left hand fondling your ear and her right on her typewriter, she decides maybe a cat could be arranged in her novel.

[rafesslxt]

✧.* 𝑭𝑨𝑽𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬 𝑨𝑭𝑭𝑨𝑰𝑹 | 𝑺𝒂𝒎 𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒓𝒐𝒆

summary: you and Sam have a secret affair while your bf is his enemy. when you call him to pick you up in that slutty outfit of yours, he shows you what you‘ve missed while partying. - based on this request

warnings: smut!, arguing, cheating, mention of alcohol, smoking, oral (on both), unprotected p in v, cum, choking, orgasm denial, breeding kink, 69 position, dirty talk, dom!Sam but still whimpering here and there bc you cannot tell me he wouldn't

words: 6,5k (bro WHAT) + it‘s 5am so sorry for typos i‘ll correct later

"Don't tell me you're wearing that!" Sam's voice echoes through my room when he stares with jaw down at the dress I changed into. "Sam, it's none of your concern." I sigh, combing lightly through my curls so I don't separate them too much.

It was supposed to be a mistake, a drunken slip, a one time thing. It's been three weeks now and I can't force myself to pull away from the grip he has on me and I don't think he even knows how powerful that grip really is.

It's like I can finally breath again when I'm with him, even If it's never for long or outside our rooms. Currently he's at mine. He came over when I told him I'm getting ready for a party and well - one thing led to another and now he's sitting on my bed with his clothes back on (imagine it like in the picture at the top) watching me getting ready again.

"Are you gonna fuck him?" he asks, jealousy dripping from his voice. "No." I shake my head and glare at him through the mirror. I'm sitting in front of. Since I started sleeping with Sam I didn‘t let him touch me and Sam knew.

I notice him standing up from my bed and slowly stalking over to my chair. He leans down so his head is at the height of my ear. "| want him to fuck you, so you know I can do it better." he almost demands, suddenly tugging my head back with a hard grip on my curls I just styled so perfectly.

"Sam!" I hiss and roll my eyes at him while he still holds my head back. "You're gonna listen to me m'kay?" I gulp and loom at him through my long lashes, batting them at him. He leans closer again and I see his face upside down from my position.

"If you leave wearing that, then the second you come back I'll bend you over everything possible."

I feel the heat creeping up my neck upwards my cheeks, leaving a slight red tint behind. "You belong to me, don't forget that." he mumbles against my lips so soft that you could think he just said the most beautiful thing but his hard grip in my hair reminds me of the opposite.

I know he's obsessive, possessive, jealous. Kind of funny when you think about the fact that he's the affair with me having a boyfriend. And on top of that, his biggest rival. "Enemy" how my boyfriend James would always say.

James. He's the complete opposite from Sam. Mean, bully, rich, entitled, popular, typical jock. I forgot a long time ago why I am in a relationship with him in the first place.

I remember how he alway told me to stay away from Sam when I met him in the cafeteria in school for the first time. Not even a minute after James came and dragged me away from him, not without insulting Sam for speaking to me of course. I smiled at him apologetic, not understanding what was supposed to be wrong with him.

James said Sam's a lot into drugs and stuff but I didn't care. Half of the school is and as long as he's not harming others with it, I really couldn't care less.

I feel Sam's lips ghosting over mine, teasing me with with his hot breath. I love how he kisses me. It's always so full of life, passion and longing. When James kisses me it's just eager, sloppy and wet. Sam kisses like his life depends on it. As If he can't breathe properly but when his lips touch mine.

"Sam.." I breath out in a whiny tone. "Dress like a slut and I'll treat you like one. I don't kiss sluts." he whispers against my lips before pulling away and letting go of my hair. I sigh in frustration when he let's go of me and apply my blush with a pout on my face.

I hear him chuckle behind me, he probably saw the look on my face. "Don't pout angel, write me when you're on your way home later alright?" he grins at me, putting on his shoes and opening my window to climb out of it. I roll my eyes at him playfully, hiding a smile with it when I already feel the excitement in my chest knowing I'll see him later.

And with that he climbs outside and closes the window behind him, winking at me before walking away. It's a miracle to me how he tells me I'm a slut and how he calls me angel the next minute. He always does this, making me feel alive, giddy, like a fucking teenager.

Wait, I am a teenager. But I mean like a teenager with no experiences or one that never talked to a boy before.

I concentrate on my face in the mirror again, applying my favorite lipgloss before I take my purse and throw the lipgloss in it. "Bye Mom!" I shout through the house when I open the front door, hearing her calling me to have a good time and not come home too late.

I love her, she's not too strict and understands me, not forgetting how her life was when she was young like me. But at the same time she would kill for me and protect me from everything. It's a great balance. She trusts me and I don't overstep boundaries.

When I arrive at the party I dressed up for, I can already smell the alcohol and weed from a mile afar through my car window. I roll it up and park a few houses further away when I see everything full of cars.

But what did I expect right? It's James, I mean everyone in either jealous of him or of me because they wanna be with him. If they only knew how easy I would trade that ticket. So of course his birthday party would explode of people. He lives in a big house, his parent's house of course but I think he mentioned something of them being on vacation for two weeks.

I grab the birthday present that rots since two weeks at the backseat of my car and get out of it, making sure that I closed the doors properly. My stomach wrenched and the closer that I get the more my head is starting to get dizzy from all the weed clouds around me.

I greet a few people that I know, hug some of my 'friends' from our friend group and slowly get inside. The air inside is a little better but still smells like alcohol and sweat from the dancing body's in the big living room. "Y/N!" I hear someone shouting over the music. I turn around and notice James' best friend coming towards me.

"Hey Mike, how are you?" I ask him trying to be polite but the truth is the more seconds passed, the more I wanted to throw my gift at James and get the hell out of here. There was a time were I loved nights like these right I front of me. Where I was one of the dancing body's sweating and drinking, sometimes even smoking. But now I just felt so - out of place.. wrong.

"I'm good, I'm good. I guess you're looking for your boyfriend? He's in the backyard with the rest." I smile at him and nod, thanking him for telling me before I watch him disappearing back into the crowd.

I let out a deep breath. I got this. It's just one night. A few hours, right? And then I'll be at Sam's. God I have to stop thinking about him like that, he's just.. sex, right?

I walked into the kitchen, looking for something to normal to drink but of course they only bought alcohol. I took a red plastic cup and filled it up with tap water, taking a big chuck from it, trying to calm my nerves a little. Oh fuck it. I grabbed a whiskey bottle and filled my cup up with Pepsi and the alcohol in my hand. Yeah, that's better for calming nerves. I mean, I'm already here so why not try to have at least a little fun.

With the drink in my hand I leave the kitchen and open the glass doors t the back yard where James is supposed to be. And doesn't take me long to find him with 'the rest' how Mike said. 'The rest' is usually our friend group. I like them, I really do. But they're just.. not that deep. It's fun to party with them, go to school with them - well the ones that don't skip all of their classes, and maybe even talking about little problems like arguing with parents or fights with boyfriends and girlfriends. But that's as far as it goes.

Maybe that's the reason why I feel so comfortable around Sam. I remember the first night we had sex, he lit up a J afterwards and asked me If I wanted to. I shook my head and sat on my rooftop with him, watching the stars. I never talked to him a lot before, like I said James kept me far away from him, but still we talked abut everything that came to our minds.

Aliens, the universe, the stars, the whole fucking galaxy. How does everything work? Is the government telling us everything? Are there already people on our earth that don't come from here? Maybe it was the weed, but I don't think so. It felt natural to talk with him. Having a good laugh for the first time win months.

My heart starts to race when I think about that night with him. Sometimes I wonder If I'm - no. That couldn't be. It can't be. He would never also. Right?

I get thrown out of my thoughts when I feel two arms sliding around my body from behind. "Hey baby." a deep voice whispers into my ear. I know it's James. I smell his cologne and obviously I recognize his voice. His breath smells like alcohol, a lot alcohol.

"Hey James. Happy Birthday." I force a smile on my lips and turn around in his grip. He kisses me and cups my face in his hands, squeezing my cheeks together. "Thank's babe. Why are you standing here tho? Come on let'S go to our friends." He takes my hand into his and pulls me towards a little chill lounge where everyone sat with drinks or J's in their hands. "Hey guy's!" I greet every single one of them before sitting down next to my boyfriend.

"Here, for you." I smile at him and give im his present. "Thank you baby." he smiles brightly when he opens it and see's what's inside. "Hell yeah!" he grins and pulls out a pair of shoes. To be honest, I don't know what's so special about him but I knew he talked 24/7 about them with Mike and how hard they are to get to I asked a friend of my dad who had a lot of connections when it was about fashion.

"They are great, thank you baby." He gives me another kiss, sloppy and a little too wet. God how I missed Sam's lips and - no. "Yeah, no problem." I answer, trying to hold my smile up.

The night went by slow, my mind racing with the wrong thoughts when you're considering I'm sitting right next to my boyfriend. He has his hand on my thigh, and his other one around his red cup filled with liquor.

At some point I started to take drink after drink, probably not being able to drive later. I took out my phone, reading some messages I have gotten. Two from my best friend Lisa, who lives in New York, sadly, and one from Sam. My heart starts racing again so I take another sip from my drink before opening it.

"How's the party going?"

I try to hide a smile when suddenly a evil little idea gets to my head. Everyone around my was busy ding something so no eyes were on me when I took a photo of James hand on my thigh and send it to Sam with a little message.

"How I wish it was your's."

I bite the inside of my cheek when I wait for an answer, not expecting it to come as quick as it does.

"Is that you'r way of showing me how sorry you are for ging out like that?"

I swallow down the clump in my throat and try to ignore the bad feeling in my stomach. Is he mad? Was it a bad idea to send him a picture? I know he's a jealous type but I already have too much alcohol in my veins to be reasonable.

I lean backwards against the lounge I'm sitting on and take another picture. This time of my face and cleavage not letting a lot to the imagination. I bite down on my bottom lip and smirk into the little camera of my phone, looking up as innocently as possible.

"How about I show you how sorry I am later?"

What I don't know is how Sam's breath got stuck when he saw my message. He looked at it, imagining how he would rip that damn dress off and fuck me through the whole night. His hand wanders down to his hard cock, massaging it slightly through his sweatpants. A quite moan leaves his lips when he stares at the way I bite down on my lip. "Little minx." he mutters to himself when he closes the picture and let's go of his boner.

"Trust me, you'll be sorry. Have fun at your little party, angel."

With a smile on my lips I put my phone away again, grabbing my cup. "Why're you smiling like that? Who texted you?" the voice of James ask me, making me jump a little. "Huh?" I look up at him when he towers his head over me a little. " I saw you texting and smiling. Who texted you?" he repeats himself, a serious look on his face.

I sigh when I knew how this would go. I mean, he's right and If we're being honest, I'm cheating on him There's nothing romantic or noble behind this. He's right. But at the same time, he was jealous in a little meaner way than Sam is. I never cheated on James before and even two years ago when we started dating, he always accused me of cheating on him or texting other boys when in reality I've never done such a thing.

Oh, there even was a rumor once that he cheated on me with a girl from our friend group, Amanda. She's nice. But also knew it was true that she had an eye on James.

"Lisa texted me." Well, that wasn't a lie. "Oh yeah? And what made you smile about it?" he asks, glaring at me. I roll my eyes at him and look away, knowing he hates it. So I'm not really surprised when he pulls my face back into his direction and repeats himself again.

"What made you smile, y/n?" "Oh my god she's my best friend and lives in another state! I was just happy she texted me!" I groan annoyed and stand up from my seat, his hand dropping from my thigh. "Where are you going?" he calls after me but also doesn't make any attempt on following me so I ignore his words and walk back inside through the house and up some stairs that I know lead to a bathroom.

When I get inside I lock the door behind me and let out a deep breath. I pull my phone out of my purse and look for a certain name in my contact. I hold it against my ear when it starts ringing on the other side. Not even two rings later he picks up.

"What's up, angel?" Sam smiles into the phone. "Miss you.." I mumble into the phone, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub behind me. I hear him chuckling. "Then leave, it's that easy." "You know its's not." I argue, pouting while looking into the mirror over the sink. I run a finger over the corner of my mouth, taking off a little of my smudged lipgloss.

he sighs into the phone now too so I continue talking. "he's gonna ask where I'm going and then will insist on one of his friend bringing me home just so he knows I'm not going anywhere else. And If I go without telling him he'll literally stand in front of my house after at least an hour."

"Break up with him." he says. "What?" I gasp, surprised he said that. I mean yes it is obvious that I should but not one time one of us really spoke these words. "You're not happy with him and you'll never be. You should find someone where you are." Someone. I don't know if it's the feeling slowly creeping up my neck and spilling over after holding them in for so long or simply the alcohol but I only scoff and roll my eyes.

"Yeah, right. Someone." my voice sounds cold and distant, pissed. "Y/n was you know what I mean.." "No, Sam. Actually I don't" Silence. And another sting I feel in my heart.

"See you, Sam." I chuckle sarcastically and press the red button on my phone. Not a second later I hear someone knocking on the door. "Y/n? Are you inside??" I groan when I hear James voice. God why can't he just leave me alone.

I stand up from the bathtub and walk over to the door, unlocking it. "Oh, Mike." I say, realizing it's not James. "Uh- James told me to look after you." "Oh, great? And he couldn't do it by himself?" I scoff, pushing past his best friend. I hear him sigh too and walk after me. "You know how he is." "An asshole?" I state, looking at him. He just grins and shrugs. "It's fine. I just wanna be alone for a moment, okay?" "Okay." He nods slowly and leaves.

I really don't know why he's keeping up with James bullshit. He's way too smart and nice for all of this. Well, just like me.

Still annoyed I wander through the hall of this ridiculous huge house, scanning all these portraits and pictures on the walls. My parents are rich too, really rich but this is just.. hideous A family of 5 living in a house as big at the fucking White House.

My mind races with thought when I suddenly hear voices whispering and giggling. I knit my eyebrows and try to be as quiet as possible to hear them again. They lead me to a big door to which I press my ear against. I recognize the voices but I couldn't quite put my finger on who they were so nosy me slowly opens the door a little just to take a little peep.

I didn't expect to see what was I front of me. My boyfriend. And Amanda. Making out on a couch. "When are you finally breaking up with her?" I hear Amanda whine like the little bitch she is. "I don't know. I told you this is just a one time thing Amanda." he answers.

What is going on? "One time thing? You're telling me four months are a one time thing for you?" she argues back. What did she just say? Four months? I close the door and take a step back.

I mean I know I'm cheating on him too. I'm no saint. But fucking four months? At the same time, I go inside myself for a moment and try to feel anything. But nothing. Not a single tear, not a single ache in my heart. I feel.. relieved? Am I crazy? My boyfriend of two years cheats on me and I feel relieved?

I quietly walk back down the hall, back down the stairs to the party. It's over. It's fucking over. I feel a smile creeping up my face when I walk outside into the backyard again. "Hey y/n, everything good?" A girl named Jessy asks me. I smile at her, almost laughing. "I'm feeling as good as never before." A giggle slips out my mouth when I sit down and take another drink from the table. They share a few looks but I couldn't care less.

I take out my phone and open the chat between me and Sam. Just now I see he texted me right after our phone call.

You know what I meant y/n.

It's complicated.

Please don't ignore me.

Are you still coming over later? I miss you

Miss your tight litte pussy around my cock

I roll my eyes at the last message but chuckle.

Oh and I know you just rolled your eyes at that

Wanna see your pretty (your eye color) eyes roll back when I fuck your attitude out of you

I quickly type in my answer, sending it with no regret now.

Can you come pick me up Sammy? I'm drunk and I want you, please.

Of course angel. Where do you want me to park? The street before the main?

Just park in front of the house

He was surprised at my massage but shrugged it off.

Alright. Gonna be there in 30.

I tucked my phone away again, taking in a deep breath. The excitement crept up in my chest again. Now that I knew James cheated on me too, I had a much less guilty for doing it with Sam. Old me would have ripped her hair out when I saw her sitting on my boyfriends - ex-boyfriends lap. But you know what? Let her have him. I know he's bad in bed. Let her realize one day she's off better.

After only fifteen minutes I heard them coming outside together, giggling slightly before sitting back down and pretending nothing happened. I played dumb and smiled at James. "Hey, where have you been? I looked for you." Yeah, let him sweat a little. "Oh uh- I looked for you too, I've sent Mike to tell you." he grumbled, glaring at his best friend.

"Hm, weird. And why did you came outside with her?" I point at Amanda, who looks at me like a deer in the lights. "She uh- she helped me. She helped me looking for you.." he stumbles over his own words.

I just nod when I felt my phone vibrating.

I'm here. Drove faster.

I smile at Sam's message and stand up without saying a word. "Where are you going?" James asks, this time following me. Amanda and Mike stand up too, following him like fucking puppy's.

"Home." I say, shrugging with my shoulders without looking at him. " You're drunk. Let Mike drive you home, he didn't have that much." he tries. "Oh don't worry, my drive is already here silly." I giggle, my stomach tingling in the best way possible when I see Sam's car lights through the windows.

"What do you mean?" James asks me mad, walking a bit faster now to keep up with me. I walk through the living room again and then outside the front yard where I see Sam leaning against the passenger seat door.

Before walking towards him I stop and turn around. "James, it's over. I'm not mad at you okay? I did the same. I'm just so relieved that you obviously feel the same about our relationship." He looks at me dumbfounded. "What are you talking about?" I roll my eyes and laugh at his words. "Oh come on. I saw you and Amanda and I heard you too and don't even try to deny it please cause I'm fucking someone else too."

I see the anger creeping up his face, ignoring the fact that he's cheating on me completely. "WHAT? Who the fuck are you talking about?" Then it hits him. He looks at me and beside me in the distance, he recognizes Sam standing against his car.

"You've got to be fucking kissing me you dumb slut!" he starts shouting and insulting me but I turn around and walk to Sam. I notice him looking at me confused but I just straight walk towards him, push myself against him and kiss him with all the passion inside me, in front of everyone.

I hear James yelling in the background, Mike probably holding him back. Sam's lips move against mine, his hands wandering up my sides, gripping the flesh beneath his fingers. "Fuck, what's that all about huh?" he mumbles against my lips, pulling away slightly.

Out of nowhere I feel the heat pooling in my stomach, yelling at me to finally fuck him. "I want you Sam. Want you to fuck me stupid." I had to giggle, I can't stop it. God he has to think I'm ging literally crazy but he just bites his lips and pushes me inside his car, driving off with me.

"What happened in there?" he chuckles and gazes at me for a second before returning his eyes back to the road in front of us. 

"You'll never believe! When I hang up I wandered around the house and found him with Amanda, making out and her saying that they are fucking for four months now. And I - I just felt so free all of a sudden. No tear no anger, nothing. Just free." I ramble my words down, smiling the whole time.

"So I got you for myself now huh?" I don't know why but my cheeks burned like hell when he said that. Did he want me for himself? I mean yeah well who wants to share but like- does he want me or want me?

When we arrive his house, he parks in front of the house, helping me out of the car and inside the house. "Your Dad home?" I whisper to him when we walk up the stairs to his room. He shakes his head and grins devilish. "He's camping or something. Means you can be as loud as you want, angel." I bite my lip at his comment and rush upstairs with him, him basically throwing me onto his bed but upside down, so my head is at the edge of the bed.

"Remember what I told you If you go out in that outfit, I'm gonna fuck you over everything possible?" he remarks with his voice so raspy in my ears. I bite down on my lip again, nodding and trying to hide a smile but failing miserable. "This will be the last time you're laying on this bed for tonight." he grins down at me and leans down towards my lips, licking over my bottom lip before kissing me.

I hum against his lips when I feel him nibbling on mine. When he pulls away his breathing gets heavier. Is he just as excited as I am? He puts a hand on my cheek and strokes the skin with his thumb. "You're gonna be a good girl, angel?" "Hmm of course."

"Good, then do what I say, alright?" he half demands. I see him opening his belt, and pulling down the zipper of his jeans. "You got me so fucking hard you have no idea." he chuckles while pushing everything in the way down.

No matter how often I see his cock, it always amazes me again how big he is, his pretty pink tip leaking pre-cum. He takes a step closer to the bed again and grabs my arms, pulling me so much that my head hangs over the edge. "You're gonna suck my cock and maybe I'll play with you." I nod eagerly and open my mouth for him, ready to take him in.

He takes his dick into his own hand and rubs it teasingly against my lips, biting down on his own lip. I sneak out my tongue and lick off the salty essence from his tip, letting it slide over and over it again.

"Hmm.." then out of nowhere, he pushes in, almost choking me with it. His eyes roll back before he moves his hips, fucking my mouth without giving me a moment to get comfortable. "Shit, it alway surprises me how well you can take it. Let's see how far you can." he groans, pushing his hips deeper.

I try to breathe through my nose and concentrate on pleasuring him, hoping he would reward me for it. "I'm gonna fuck your throat baby, 's that alright?" he asks before pushing in deeper after I nod slightly. "Oh fuck.." he let's out a deep groan and closes his eyes. "I can see my fucking dick in your throat baby. God that's so hot."

His gaze wanders over the rest of my body until he sees my purse beside me, my phone fallen out of it. He leans forwards, choking me even more and takes it into his hands. I see him start taking pictures of it and smiling at them like a artist who just found his muse.

Tears start forming in my eyes due the feeling of him choking me every few seconds. "Fuck you look so pretty when you cry baby but that's your fault hm. Got outside like a little slut. Remember, you act like one, I'll treat you like one." he repeats himself.

I move my tongue up and down at the side of his cock, massaging the prominent vein he has. I hear him whimper slightly, his tough facade faltering a little.

He let's his hands wander over my body, massaging the flesh beneath my dress, pinching my nipples through the fabric making me whine around his cock. "Fuck you like that, right? Think I'm gonna reward you for listening so good." he slowly pulls out his cock and let's me catch my breath. I cough a little and swipe away the tears that started to run down my face.

He looks at me expectingly and raises one of his brows. "Thank you." I choke out to which he nods and leans over my body, pulling up the front of my dress. I hear him chuckle when he notices the wetness soaking through my underwear. "You get off on sucking my cock?"

His fingers ghost over my aching clit, teasing it through the fabric. I whine out loud and push my hips up. "Please, please touch me Sammy." "Hmm but I', already touching you. Gotta be more specific."

"Pleeease, need to feel your mouth. Please." never in my life would I beg any man like that. But for Sam to touch me I would get on my knees and start praying.

He pushes my underwear to the side and laps at my puffy folds, tasting me and groaning. "You taste so good.." then he starts sucking my clit and I almost faint at the feeling. I let out a silent moan, bucking my hips but he presses them down and slightly nibbles at my clit.

"Fuck Sam!" my scream echoes probably through the whole house. "Suck my cock again." he mumbles against my pussy, adding a finger and teasing my entrance with it. I grab his hard cock and wrap my lips around the tip, sucking on it with a lot of pressure. "Oh yeah.." he groans against me, sucking harder on my nub.

I feel his finger entering me slowly, then another one so it's two and curling them up just right. I let out a long moan around him, squeezing my eyes shut. I take him deeper until he hits the back of my throat.

He groans against my clit, making me moan around his cock because of the vibration. It's like an endless circle of pleasure.

He starts pumping his fingers faster, flicking his tongue over my clit like he knows every inch of my body. Well – he does.

Then I start feeling it, the fire pooling in my abdomen. My walls clench around his fingers, signaling him I'm almost there. He let's go of my clit and continues pumping his fingers. "Are you close baby?" he asks tauntingly and puts his thumb on my now sensitive clit, rubbing it without any mercy.

I cry out around his cock, tears running down from all the pleasure around me. Never ever did James make me feel like this just from oral. Then, right before I explode, he stops. Pulls out his fingers and let's go of my pulsing nub, even pulling his cock out of my mouth.

"Sam!" I cry, bucking my hips into the air. "That's for leaving in that fucking dress." he whispers, kneeling down so his face is in front of mine. I huff out some air, pouting when I lose my orgasm.

He grabs my should again and pulls me up, away from the bed. He pushes me towards his desk with a mirror on it, grabbing my neck. " 'm gonna fuck you from behind and you're gonna watch yourself in the mirror, yeah?" "Yes." I answer, leanin forwards, my upper body on his desk now. "Spread your legs." he commands and pushes them apart with his knee.

"Look at that, I don‘t even have to fucking touch your dress, you‘re such a little whore." he spat when he sees my dress isn't covering my ass anymore. A sudden pang hit's me. I look over my shoulder back at him and see him grinning at me, slapping my ass again but this time a lot harder.

I moan when his hand hits my skin, making him smirk even wider. "I should have known you're gonna like that." he pulls my underwear down and positions himself at my entrance. "Beg for it, wanna hear what a little slut you are for me."

"Hm yes your slut only.." I moan and wiggle my hips against him, hoping for some friction. "Please Sam, I need to feel you inside me, please. I've been so good, please." my begging is like music to his ears and before I can see it coming, he pushes inside me with one go.

"Oh fucking hell!" he groans loudly, his mouth wide open and his eyebrows pushed together. "Fuck Sam, I feel you so deep!" I whine, grabbing the edge of the desk. He starts moving his hips, slowly at first and then fast like never before.

The sound of his thrusts, his skin slapping against mine could be heard through the whole house together with our moans and groans. Thank god his Dad is camping.

His right hand finds it way around my throat, squeezing it just lightly to make me feel lightheaded. "Look at yourself." he demands. I bite my lip when I watch him through the mirror. I could see the sweat on his forehead, a few hair strands clinging to it. His eyes are slightly hooded from the pleasure he felt every time my walls massaged his cock just so perfectly.

"So fucking tight I swear If I didn't knew better I would think you're a fucking virgin." I love how dirty his words are, every time. "God, you're milking me." a little whimper leaves his lips when I squeeze my walls around him, the sound going straight to my core, making me clench even more. Like I said before, just a circle of pleasure.

"You know what's the best of it all? At first it was more about fucking his girlfriend, knowing she's coming around my cock. But now I have you all to myself and I'm gonna die before I let anyone else touch you ever again. You're mine now, angel." he pants and Strats to move his hips in a brutal pace now, making me scream out his name.

"Yeah, scream my name so loud the whole fucking neighborhood knows who you belong to, come on." The grip of his hand around my throat get's tighter, making me dizzy but also so soaked.

"I'm gonna fill you up so good until your little cunt is dripping with my cum." I gasp at his words, my walls clenching around him automatically. "Oh you like that baby? Like the idea of me pumping that pussy full with my cum? Shit, you're like a fucking dream. Just as sick and dirty as me." "Sam.. please.." I whine, sobbing at the thought of his words.

"Say it baby, say it, come on. Let me hear it. Fucking let me hear you beg for it." he groans, his cock already throbbing inside of me, ready to bust. "Oh Sammy please, please fill me up. Come inside of me, wanna feel it so bad." I let out a few sobs again, watching him react to my words in the mirror.

His eyes roll back and one of his hands wanders around me, rubbing my clit in circles, adding to the tight feeling in my stomach. "I'm so close.." I whimper, closing my eyes.

"No no no, you're gonna watch yourself come around me." I open my eyes again, feeling tears pooling inside my eyes. I look at the desk beneath me, rocking back and forth, all his school stuff already on the floor. "Sam, please let me come, please."

He lets out a dark laugh and slaps my ass again with much more force than before. "Want me to fill you up real good? Wanna feel my cum dripping down between your pretty thighs? Wanna walk around with my baby inside you? Fuck you would be such a good mommy hm.."

My eyes roll back at his words and the crushing feeling finally explodes inside me, a broken cry leaving my lips when I finally come around him, milking him so good.

"Fuck y-yes oh I'm gonna come. Gonna come in that tight pussy." a whimper leaves him again, adding to the crushing orgasm I have. His grip on my hip and my throat get's tighter, so tight I almost can' breath.

With a loud moan he let's go, spilling his hot seed inside of me. "Shit.." I whimper, feeling him flooding my cunt. When I slowly calm down again, I look over my shoulder, seeing him panting heavily, his chest rosing up and down. He slowly pulls out of me, a little whimper leaving me.

He takes a step back and smirks the he scans my body, his cum running down the inside of my thighs. "Hmm looks so fucking good." He comes closer again and pushes his cum back inside. "Keep it there." he whispers inside my ear, leaving shivers down my spine.

He pulls me back up and hold me when he notices my numb legs. "Don't think I am done with you angel. I said on every fucking surface."

My wide eyes look up at him but only met with his devilish looking ones. "This is gonna be so much fun, angel." he speaks before pushing me against his window, my legs wrapped around his hips.

This is definitely better tan crying after a break up.

Sooooo what do we think? My first Sam Monroe fic 🤝🏻

hope u liked it and thank u for reading! 🖤

My Masterlist

xoxo sarah <3

[kleftiko]

❦ KITTEN PT. 2

cw: mature, mdni!, fem!reader, slight choking (like the most minuscule amount), p in v sex, unprotected sex

PART 1 | MASTERLIST

shota digs his phone out of his pocket, you still in his lap. he hits play on a song before tossing it to the other end of the couch. the music isn’t as loud as the club, but it’s something you can dance to.

“c’mon, kitten.” he pats your thigh for encouragement.

a part of your professionalism takes over as you start to move, his hands wander along your costume and you stand up in an attempt to free yourself but they stay stationed on you.

“i don’t normally allow customers to touch me.” your back is facing him, so you don’t notice his finger going under the elastic of your costume until he snaps it back against your skin.

you instinctively slap his hand away.

“the material’s cheap.” he says.

“excuse me?” you continue to dance.

he snaps at the elastic again and you turn to face him with a stern glare. he’s not looking at you, though. instead, his finger slips under the garter on your thigh this time. with one curl, he breaks the flimsy material.

“shota!” you gasp.

he chuckles deeply.

“you expect me to believe this would last longer than a set?”

“well people don’t come on stage and start breaking my shit.” your hand comes to his chest and he allows you to push him back against the couch.

“it’s not gonna work.” he says, maintaining his look.

you kiss your teeth at him.

“fine then.” you say and start to turn around. “i’ll just go take this off.”

his hand grabs your wrist as he stands, pulling your back into his chest once again.

“let me help,” he murmurs into your ear, pulling your ass back into his boner that you didn’t realize he had. he was getting you so worked up you didn’t even bother to check the effect you had on him. “you did such a good job, let me repay you.”

you tilt your head to the side, allowing his nose to brush against the skin on your neck.

“you think after annoying me like that you can just do what you want?”

his hands start exploring your body. one travels up to cup your throat over your collar, the other inches down to your panties that have become more exposed from your dancing.

a sound escapes you.

“this alright, kitten?” he asks, placing a hot kiss on your neck.

“of course, shota.” you hum and he placed some pressure on your neck, guiding you to face him. “s’about time you did something.”

he shakes his head slightly, planting a soft kiss on your lips to distract you from his finger circling your clit.

“should i apologize for treating you with respect?”

“only in the bedroom.” you whimper at the feeling of his fingers slowly becoming wet.

“or the living room.” he corrects, hand from your throat going to your hips to help stabilize you.

your arms go around his neck, kissing him desperately as he makes you fall apart on his fingers.

he doesn’t allow you to muffle your whines with his lips, pulling back just to make you chase him like you’ve been doing all this time.

“shota!” you cry as you begin to shake, just wanting his lips and his fingers and all of him. you were selfish and you didn’t care.

he just chuckled lowly and continued teasing you.

his fingers move quicker and harder, the slick that you dropped onto them helping him glide over your clit with ease. he brings you to your orgasm quickly, but you make the mistake of announcing it.

he removes his fingers.

you whine his name again, eyes closed and trying to get a sense of your surroundings again when shota pushes you onto the couch.

it’s only a small yelp you let out when your stomach makes contact—he would never hurt you.

and he pulls your hips towards him with one hand, the other pushing down on you to arch your back.

“that’s it, kitten.” he purrs. “is this finally what you wanted?”

you nod your head as best you can.

the sound of metal is muffled somewhat by the music you blocked out, but you definitely recognize the sound of a belt being undone.

that, along with the cool air on your pussy as he slides down your panties paints a pretty straightforward picture.

and you want to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming.

without warning, shota slides in.

a strangled sound comes out from your lips, but he just takes that as a sign that he’s doing good.

his thrusts start slow, building up to faster and harder paced as you let the moans and whine freely exit your mouth. you can’t hold back how much pleasure this man is giving you. and all those times you touched yourself to the thought of him would never live up to the feeling of his cock stretching you cunt.

you gasp when his fingers move back to your clit, and his pattern starts getting unsteady as he’s harshly pounding into you and touching you so well.

his grunts and groans are mixing in with the sounds that you make, and it’s too hard to speak but you muster a “close, shota.”

“me too, kitten.” he huffs and your entire body tightens at the feeling over going over the edge.

you whine his name as you cum, but that just pushes shota to go harder, chasing his own orgasm.

he nearly screams your name as he releases into you. within a minute, he collapses, hands holding his body just over top of you and you feel his hot breath on your back.

he placed a soft kiss on your skin.

“let’s go to bed.” he says.

you don’t move, needing a minute to recover as you feel his cum start to slip out of you.

“mine?” you ask.

he laughs a bit.

“well mine is too far.”

[inkonparchment]

re6!Leon x agent!Reader drabble.

decompressing after missions is not as easy as it seems.

mentions of ptsd, implied age gap, slightly graphic scenery but nothing we aren't used to in the RE-verse.

Your fingers flex by your side. Fingers splaying out against your thighs as though in search. In search for the feel of cool metal against your skin. Your hand feels empty, too light, the weight isn't correct. And then you clench your hand, rounding up your fingers in a fist.

Breathe. Breathe.

Maybe you should have stayed home instead of coming to the office party. You couldn't even remember what the celebration was for. But what good would it have done you by staying home? Staring at the walls, watching the paint peel, letting the harsh blue glare of your TV bathe you.

Breathe. Breathe.

You bring your glass to your lips, taking a small slip, rolling the liquid around in your mouth to coat it with bubbles. What was it your therapist had said? Find other ways to ground yourself. The tonic water did help put your mind off your hand. No alcohol for you though, no. So afraid that if you ventured once to seek comfort at the bottom of the bottle, you wouldn't be able to stop.

You squint against the harsh lights. Are they harsh or do they just seem like that to you? You can't tell the difference right now. The music is nice, low and soft, the sight of your coworkers intermingling keeping your eyes busy. But you can't help it, can't help your eyes darting across the room.

Locate the exit. Any hostiles? How many active shooters? Anyone with their skin peeling off, eyes popping out of their skull with their hands outstretched, mouths upturned in a snarl, the scent of rotting flesh-

Breathe. Bubbles. Breathe.

You take a step back, melting more in the background. Best not to attract attention right now, you don't think you have the energy to muster up a social conversation. You exhale a deep breath, looking down at your shoes, slight pain starting to creep in your toes from standing around in your heels too long.

You don't notice someone slide next to you.

"You're standing so far back, people might mistake you as part of the decor."

You freeze, recognising the voice. The soft, gentle low cadence that you're sure you'd be able to recognise anywhere. You lift your chin and the gnawing voices in your head cease.

The lights cast a shadow on his blond hair, almost creating a halo, blue eyes hiding under his bangs that are gentle in their way of looking at you. His warmth, the scent of his cologne drifting around him wherever he goes. And suddenly you feel awake, brought back to the ground with a sudden yank to your chain.

"Agent Kennedy!" You sound surprised and that amuses him.

"And here I thought we were finally going to be on first name basis."

You look away, put at an ease by his teasing tone. A running joke now between the two of you. Passing each other in the hallways, he would greet you by your name and you would greet him with an 'Agent Kennedy'. You don't know what it is but you can't seem to find it in yourself to call him 'Leon'.

He watches you carefully, a little shake of his head to move the bang from his eyes. "When did you get back?"

You shift the glass to your other hand, "Yesterday."

When he doesn't respond, you look up at him again to see a small smile on his face, a question dancing in his eyes. So blue. You could almost drown in them.

"What?"

"Can't believe you came to this party right after an assignment." He shrugs his shoulders. "I would've headed out to Hawaii instead."

A chuckle escapes from your lips, "Well we can't all do what you do, Agent Kennedy."

He's grown his stubble out a bit more, you notice. Eyebags lighter, more colour in his cheeks, like he isn't carrying around an unsurmountable exhaustion.

You want to know how he does it. How he's so much at ease right now. How much he's able to handle the shitload well that he's not standing in the middle of an office party of one of the most secure departments in the country, mere moments away from a breakdown.

Your eyes get a bit hazy, not wanting your state to be put on such a display, especially not around Agent Kennedy. You can feel a slow spiral beginning to grip you but it almost immediately stops.

Warmth blossoms against your skin and  the sound of your name falling on your ears brings you back to reality. He's standing more closer now, a reassuring hand pressed on your wrist where neither your dress shirt nor the coat of your pant suit covers your skin.

His face is full of understanding as though he knows, knows exactly what's been running your mind like he's been there himself. A soft squeeze. "You know where to find me."

And with a final smile, he let's go, walking away from you. You watch until he disappears into the crowd, leaving the ghost of his burning handprint against your skin.

The lights feel softer now.

[fictionalsownme]

"Touch" | season 6 ! keigo takami x reader | WIP BLURB

Hiya! So I've noticed recently that I almost never post my writing on here, even though I write all the time. I'm just so easily distracted I almost never finish things, but I thought I'd start sharing what I do have so some of these little bits can see the light of day hehe :) here's a bit a wrote about how hawks' and the reader's dynamic might shift after his burn and after his personality changes a bit!

disclaimer: this blurb is unedited and unfinished. just wanted to share some WIPs! Enjoy!

Recently, Hawks— Keigo— had been touching you even more than normal.

You would say he’s finding excuses for physical contact, but there’s not even reasons most of the time.

It’d been about a week since you started riding around with him, Jeanist, and Endeavor. All Might, Deku, and some other pros were part of the efforts, too.

Being a civilian, you knew you brought them more risk than aide, but you weren’t totally useless. And now Hawks— now Keigo— insisted on you being by his side.

It’s not as if you and him had never touched before. In the year you’d known him and worked for him, the two of you had actually gotten really close. And when his name was revealed to the public, he asked you to start calling him that all the time.

No one else, just you. It was taking some getting used to.

It wasn’t long after that the touching started. The near constant physical contact.

A steady hand at your back seemed to be his favorite. But there were other motions too. Touching your arm, playing absently with the edge of your jacket, nudging his shoe with yours. Even just keeping you within arms length seemed to be a must.

Not that you didn’t like it. You definitely did. Each touch was so warm and protective, it made you lightheaded. And in these times… any comfort was a blessing.

You figured that’s why he’d been doing it. Just basic coping, nothing more. You understood. Before all this mess, before he’d been burned, you had always been the first to offer hugs and reassurances. You’d even held hands once or twice. Platonically, of course. But nothing like this.

It wasn’t just the physical nature of your relationship changing, either.

He had this air about him when you were near. It simmered when he talked to you, when he touched you or looked in your eyes. An almost… protectiveness. Possessive.

It was the same with his name. He hadn’t asked a single other person to call him Keigo, and no one did. Except you. And he was adamant about it.

You were flattered, and happy to do this for him. But you were a bit embarrassed to admit that you’d been struggling to adjust. You kept using his hero name by mistake. At first he’d just corrected you with an unreadable expression, then started to tease you about it, but now he’d resorted to waiting until you got it right to respond at all. Even though he’d hadn’t been as outwardly playful since he’d been burned, you knew he wasn’t actually mad at you or anything. Another change you understood. He was being more authentic to who he was. More reserved and quiet and thinking. Again, an adjustment to be sure, but you were happy.

You didn’t mind this slightly new dynamic. In fact, you were hopelessly in danger of falling even more in love with him than you already were, the poor man.

You swore that if he slid his palm over the expanse of your back one more time, tenderly whispered your name like that, gave you instructions with a warm, grounding touch… you were going to lose it and confess on the spot.

You stumbled when one of the incapacitated villains stuck their foot out to trip you as you walked past. You glared at him. Tied, gagged, beat up, and still trying to cause shit.

You kicked at his foot.

“Come stand over here,” called Hawks’— fuck, Keigo’s— still slightly raspy voice.

You gave the villain one more stink eye, and came to stand next to where Keigo was leaning against the car. His hand went to your back immediately. Warm even through his glove and your sweater.

It truly concerned you how normal that was starting to feel. How disarming.

He gently rubbed your back with his thumb, his palm flat against your spine, waiting silently for Jeanist and Endeavor to come back with instructions for the goons.

The feeling of his hand… strong and grounding like an anchor… your eyes slid closed after only a few moments.

Like you said, lately comfort was desperately needed and hard to come by. You kept your back straight, clutching your bag to your chest, savoring the feeling of your best friend. There to keep you safe.

When your eyes opened, they slid over to him on instinct. He was watching you.

You cheeks flared but you kept his gaze. He wasn’t… anything really. Not happy or upset or surprised. He just looked back at you, his hand still against you.

God you swore… sometimes you were so ridiculously close to just grabbing him by the stupid jacket and kissing him senseless. Just to feel it, to feel him, to see what he would do. To see if it would really ruin your life like you told yourself it would.

This somewhat new side of him was intriguing to say the least. Not afraid of silence, of a blank expression, of showing he was thinking. Before his burn and the collapse of society, his training kept his expression in a claustrophobic range of cock-sure grin to open laughter. The only exception was when he was squaring off against villains, or simply too tired to mask himself properly. The later was still rare, however. He only ever willingly stopped presenting when the two of you were alone, and you were proud to say you’d gotten very good at seeing beneath it all.

But things were different now. He didn’t bother to hide. As his friend, it was a breath of fresh air, and it was nice to see no one else seemed to mind either. He still laughed and smiled and made stupid quips. But he didn’t bother to be someone he wasn't.

But he’d been changing too, inside. Everyone had. Less hero and more man. Maybe that’s why he’d asked you to start using his name.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Hybrids Mafia Princess Pt2

Series Masterlist

Warning: Very sad dog/wolf death scene, it is traumatic and that’s coming from the person who wrote it and I’m very sorry ahead of time, Emotional and Relationship Manipulation

Translation: девочка means Babygirl and for anyone who speaks Russian, if this is not accurate let me know, it’s just the most accurate one I could find on multiple translators but please correct me if I’m wrong, I’m always happy to learn and fix mistakes like that

Tag-List: @a-beaverhausen @ranisingsnew @susannahmikaelson @skulliecadaver-blog

To say that night had been hectic would be a massive understatement.

After Y/n’s mother had left the room it wasn’t 10 minutes before the door was kicked in and Y/n screamed, terrified immediately that someone was breaking in and Klaus was on his feet, growling at the 4 men that now stood in the room with guns. ‘What do you think you’re doing Rumlow?! Get Out! I was fucking sleeping you crazy assholes!’

‘That’s enough девочка, they’re here to get that animal out of my child’s bedroom.’ Klaus instantly recognized this man as Y/n’s father and he would have no matter what he had said, she looks like him in more ways than she does her mom.

‘No, he’s not going anywhere. He’s mine now, he hasn’t hurt anyone-‘

‘Yet! He’s a wild animal! It is time for him to go, I am not asking-‘

‘Of course not! You never do! You never even speak to me, let alone ask me how I feel about something! He’s not going anywhere!’ She snapped, moving to hug him and Klaus licked her face to try and comfort her, knowing this was not going to end well.

‘I’m going to give you a choice because I love you девочка. Either you take the animal outside and let it go or I get rid of it right now. It’s your choice, because I will not have a wolf in my house ready to hurt my child, it’s nice now but it’s a wild animal, it is not a pet!’ Y/n was glaring at her father but he refused to look at her. Klaus could see he didn’t want to upset her but he didn’t want to risk a wolf sleeping in his child’s bed, he can’t say it’s not logical but he sure isn’t going about it the right way. ‘Choose Y/n, or I will.’

Y/n turned to look back at him and pet him gently. ‘Come on Fenrir.’ He hopped off of the bed and followed her down the stairs and out the back door, kneeling in the grass beside him. ‘You go home, okay? I’ll bring you something special to eat tomorrow, does that sound good?’ He barked, enjoying her scratching behind his ears as always.

‘No Y/n, you will not go looking for him, you will leave him alone, no more going into the woods.’

‘What?! No! You don’t want him in the house? Fine, but he’s my friend! The only one I have in the world thanks to you! I don’t get to have friends, or boyfriends, or dates, and now I can’t even have a fucking pet?! I’ll come talk to him whenever I want and you can’t stop me!’

‘Y/n-‘

‘No! I’ve always done what you say, always, even when it means I can’t go to college or have a job or know any other human beings besides the people who you pay to be here but this isn’t fair! You don’t get to do this to me!’ She was hugging him around the neck tightly and he whined, not knowing how to comfort her.

Her father gestured to one of the men who moved to grab her and Klaus growled, lunging at him as he reached for her and biting his hand viciously. ‘Mother Fucker!’

‘He’s protecting me! That should prove that he’s good-‘

‘It proves that he’s dangerous!’ He shouted, his voice loud and pissed off as he moved to grab Y/n and haul her up. ‘Don’t look.’ He told her, trying to hold her face against him.

‘No…No! Let Go! Let Me Go! Fenrir Run!’

Klaus had to give James Barnes credit, he’s much more of an idiot than he expected. Klaus had been trying to figure out how to get Y/n to leave with him, and with how she had been raised he expected it to be difficult but no, her father was doing a fantastic job of driving her away all by himself. All this was doing was solidifying it for him, though he had always hated getting shot. Humans and their guns had gotten effective over the years and it seemed it got more painful every decade.

There was a loud gunshot which cut off Y/n’s screams and everything was silent, no one spoke, Y/n’s mother not even knowing what to say right now. ‘Clean it up.’ James demanded before pulling his daughter towards the house but she planted her feet and dug her teeth into his arm as hard as she could making him scream and let go.

A moment later she was knelt over her friends body, crying into his fur and willing him to wake up, even though she knew he wouldn’t. No one seemed to know what to do until her mother moved. ‘Honey…it’s time to go inside-‘

‘You let him do this…you’re the only person he’s ever listened to and you did nothing.’ Y/n’s voice was hollow, she didn’t have it in her to care anymore.

‘Honey, I couldn’t-‘

‘You didn’t want to. There’s a difference.’ It wasn’t until she was blaming her mother that Bucky spoke again.

‘Don’t talk to your mother like that-‘

‘Don’t you ever speak to me again.’ She cut him off, glaring up at him. ‘All you’ve done tonight is prove everything that I’ve been saying about you for years…you don’t care about me. Maybe you did when I was a kid, maybe it was all a lie, maybe once I got old enough you realized I wasn’t everything you wanted and you realized you hated me cause you can’t have any better kids. I don’t know and tonight was my last straw…I don’t care anymore. I hate you-‘

‘Y/n!’ Her mother scolded.

‘I Hate You…and not some teenage angst “I hate you” bullshit, I mean it. You were the only friend I had my entire life and for whatever reason you gave up on that and left me alone and now you couldn’t even let me have a pet as a friend. I’m done. I’m leaving, I don’t know how but I will find a way to get away from you and you will never find me again…I Hate You.’ Y/n released Fenrir’s fur and stood, pulling away from her mothers phony comfort and walking into the house without a glance back at anyone.

She knew her parents would never let her leave, they would see her as “in danger” every moment she was alone and maybe that’s true but she didn’t care, it had to be better than this lonely, painful life that she was living.

Y/n spent the rest of the night sobbing until she passed out, unable to keep her eyes open anymore.

Klaus truly felt awful for letting her believe him dead. He could see how much his wolf meant to her already and he couldn’t say he was shocked. This girl had been cut off from the outside world due to her fathers paranoia, she couldn’t leave the house and go to school or have a job or make friends and while her life with Klaus would be much the same (as he is also a paranoid bastard) he would never leave her alone to wonder if he loved her or not. She would never doubt his love. Plus she would have Fenrir to snuggle whenever she wanted.

Klaus knew that getting Y/n to trust him wouldn’t be hard and if it was any other situation he would find that funny but he loves her and he doesn’t care for how vulnerable her father has left his mate. If anyone else had gotten there before Klaus she could have been hurt and he would have had to kill her father for that, something he didn’t really want to do.

He knew that killing her parents would hurt her even if she says she hates them, therefore he wouldn’t be doing that but he also wanted James Barnes to know that his девочка was out there, alive…well…“Alive” and happy with another man and that he would never find her.

All Klaus needed to do now was create an environment that James would want or need to take his daughter to. He could compel someone to throw a party and depending on who it was he would have to bring his family or it would be insulting.

Having been invited into the house by his Princess, Klaus climbed his way through her open window and sat on her bed, stroking his fingers down her cheek. He was relieved to finally be able to touch her soft skin, even if he could only do so while she’s asleep, he would have her soon. It wouldn’t be hard to convince Y/n that he loved her and Klaus was thankful that she was his mate, he was saving her from getting hurt by a man in the future with much worse intentions and while Klaus’ intentions were to fuck her and keep her all for himself at least he knew that he would never cause her harm. He loves her. She is his mate, and he would care for his Princess for the rest of eternity.

Klaus would be her new Daddy.

And his little Baby would never be sad again.

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[thebaileybugle]

Mistake

Pairing: L. Jethro Gibbs x male!reader

Warning(s): None really, just some fluff and cuteness

Request: Hi could I please request a Gibbs x male reader fic where the reader works in the lab with Abby and without thinking Gibbs gives him a kiss on the cheek like he would Abby I doesn’t have to be detailed at all

A/N: Hi again! how are you wonderful people doing, hope you are doing well, and if not hope you get better! It's not much but its a kickstart to writing again.

Gibbs walked off the elevator and approached you and Abby with half a mind. It was a whole twenty-three or so hours since the NCIS was assigned this case and one of those hours was the only time he slept.

Is it a bit dangerous? Yes. Though, has he survived worse with a not-so-better mindset? Yes. Is there a slim chance you might kill him if you found out because you are the father hen of the team (including Ducky) yes, but he could at least convince you to not throw away his 50th cup of coffee.

"Afternoon Boss!" Abby said enthusiastically with a bright smile, Gibbs smiled back tiredly and nodded before she went back to a forensic test on some clothing from the victim.

You didn't even look up picking up on the sudden smell of coffee as his footsteps approached the front of the table.

"What cup is that Gibbs?" You asked without looking up from your computer as you type away. That was the third time you've asked him this question in just thirty minutes. You were much like your colleagues, exhausted, anxious, and ready for this damn case to be over.

"None ya'" Said man answered before taking a sip of his 53rd cup of coffee. You looked up from the device and stared at him with a glare more lethal than his own. He didn't stand down though of course. He smiled and made his way around the lab table to stand next to you. "I know what she's working on but the hell are you doin?"

"Looking up bridal shops for the vic." You said sarcastically with a fake smile that you dropped as you looked back down the screen, trying to look up a possible substance we're missing from the scene. That can't be all of the cause of death, it's damn near impossible for it to just be blunt force trauma."

"What? ya thinkin' something internal that Duck could've missed?"

"That could be it, but there's also the fact that Ducky is most definitely 99% correct and thorough with his autopsy reports so that's unlikely." You shake your head and run a hand down your face in slight frustration.

"But not impossible." He points out shrugging a bit. You nod and make a move to text Jimmy. Gibbs furrows his brows at the device and scoffs and shakes his head. "You'll figure it out, kid. Between you, Abby, and that brain of yours you'll find the missin' piece in no time."

"Thanks, boss... might not be the most helpful brain though... between my partner making things difficult at home and this case, i feel like I'm gonna snap."

"That's alright kid, but if you do, make sure it's on DiNozzo." You smirk and nod thanking him silently. "Alright you two, I'm off to get another cup." He grins and out of habit kisses Abby's cheek before also kissing yours.

Abby's eyes widened in surprise at what she saw. Gibbs, who you and Abby thought didn't comprehend what he just did, walked off to the elevator once more and pressed the up button, leaving behind leaving you and Abby stunned and confused.

"Don't make it weird, it ain't that bad to kiss a man!" He yelled back to you both and entered the elevator.

------

Taglist: @ilovemark1951 @napoleonthefrog

To be tagged in more things Gibbs fill out this form, to request more Gibbs and/or other characters I write for fill out this form

[emptywwwriting]

Morning Patrol

Paring: Jackson!Joel Miller x Fem! reader

Summary: It's your first patrol shift since you joined Jackson. When your friend, Jesse, calls out sick you have to go on the patrol alone with Joel Miller.

Warnings: Horrible Writing, HUGE age gap (33 years LOL), reader smokes cigs,  reader is also lowkey a horse girl (shut up), smut will be added, edited this @ 3am sry for mistakes lol, no use of y/n

A03 Link: Morning Patrol

Word Count: 3.8k omg...

First writing ever. I'm sorry if it sucks LOL. I wrote this because I’ve been replaying TLOU2 and it re-awoken my love for these characters.

Idk if I will make this a story or not, it depends on the feedback I get. Correct my grammar/spelling if you see anything wrong, feedback is much appreciated. Also, this is a no-Ellie AU not for any reason, in particular, I just didn’t know how to combine her storyline into this. Please read the warnings!!

It's freezing this time of year, cold frosted winds that are carried by the slopes of the mountains swirl the small town of Jackson, freezing everything over. Even the small wooden stove that usually warms your bones isn't cutting it. Yet you have to stop your eyes from fluttering close while you sit next to the open flame. With only your undergarments to cover you, you're balled up as small as possible sitting on the floor next to the heat. Your alarm had gone off 15 minutes ago, but you’d been procrastinating since. It’s your first patrol shift ever since Jackson took you in nearly 4 months ago. This idea was suggested, rather drunkenly, by Tommy at a bonfire just last week.

…

“It’s about time you start pulling your weight here,” Tommy mumbled with a beer resting on his lips, tilting his head towards you.

Your head snapped up to meet his gaze angrily.

Jesse had arranged a get-together by a bonfire following a town event, inviting Tommy, Joel, Dina, and a few other lookout guards. The hangout was calm, warm, and cozy, with everyone sitting around enjoying their drinks, sharing funny stories, and discussing unusual experiences. As a fairly new member of the town, you were unfamiliar with most of the people there. Jesse, who had played a key role in bringing you into Jackson, made sure to introduce you to Dina, with whom you had formed a close bond. She introduced you to the wonderful team of people who manage all of the horses that Jackson uses. Having grown up around animals, and having extensive knowledge of them, you felt right at home. 

However, not everyone was as friendly. Tommy, in particular, seemed to have a strong dislike for you. Ever since the night shift had found you, he had been suspicious of your presence in the town. Tommy constantly questioned you about your past, making you feel like a criminal rather than a newcomer just trying to fit in. While you understood the need for caution in a town as advanced as Jackson, Tommy's suspicions seemed to linger longer than necessary, this pissed you off. Despite your efforts to become a part of the community and form relationships with Jackson’s people, his distrust towards you made it difficult. You couldn't help but feel like an outsider, even when you are trying to enjoy a casual gathering. 

Jesse let out a cough next to you in an attempt to break the tension. Tommy’s brother, sitting next to him, didn't look away from his bottle, staring awkwardly into the brown glass. Jesse adjusted himself upright in his chair and began.

“I mean you can always come with us on a morning patrol shift… if you feel like it of course,” he added quickly, before staring into his own beer bottle.

You hummed in response. 

Still mad at Tommy, you shoot him another hidden glare before finishing your drink quickly.

“I think it would be a good start for you, hell of an early shift but usually a quiet one.” He looks over at you. “Just me and Joel now, another person couldn't hurt.” Jesse finishes.

Tommy's brother, Joel, grunts from across the fire agreeing.

You stare into the open flame thinking about his words.

“You up for it?” Jesse prods.

“Yeah, I'll do it.” You reply.

Tommy lets out a huff but you choose to ignore it. 

Still basking in the awkwardness from Tommy's comment, Dina and Jesse yawn and start collecting their stuff murmuring their goodbyes to the rest of the group surrounding the fire. Tommy and Joel stomp out the flames before falling into quiet conversation, as you follow Dina and Jesse towards the housing strip.

…

You finally force yourself to get up, the cold air wraps around your body as the stove's heat leaves your skin, you quickly get dressed. Sliding your thickest sweatshirt over your head and thick pants onto your legs. Stepping into your boots, you grab a beanie, gloves, and your backpack, making sure that your revolver is with you. After extinguishing the stove's flame, you exit your house and start down the quiet road.

You thought that things were quiet at night, they are even more quiet at four in the morning. Not a soul is awake at this hour, you've never seen the streets of Jackson so still. None of the town's Edison bulbs were on, only the occasional lamp that came from a house's window illuminated your path. Your mind wanders to the patrol, and you recall how just yesterday Jesse called out sick. A horrible stomach flu had torn its way through Jackson, particularly the school kids and teachers. Jesse got it after participating in a snowball fight with the school children, and Dina was now stuck taking care of him.  You had been sick with it nearly a week ago, the aftereffects still haunting your body. Your stomach gurgled with hunger, feeling as if it had sunk in. Chills racked your body at night, but you had no fever and could keep food down, sometimes. You didn't want to leave Joel to do the patrol alone, even though you know he could.

You have never talked with Joel before, just knew of him. His gruffness made itself apparent when he entered a room. He is a very respected man in the small town and it makes you feel like you know him to an extent. You have to admit that his large size and powerful aura make you slightly scared of him, yet it intrigues you even more. You often catch yourself staring at his aged and calloused hands gripping a beer bottle, or while cleaning his gun, and would have to force yourself to look away; But for such a strong and large man he was so quiet. It made you nervous to go on patrol with him. It's not that you dread the patrol itself, nor does it mean you don't want to be alone with him, but you dread the awkwardness of it.

You are both very quiet people, it's bound to get awkward. With someone chatty like Dina, you could rely on her for conversation for hours, and there would never be a dull moment. But with Joel? Who knows.

Finally, you arrive at the greenhouses which are next to the exit of Jackson. In the moonlit shadows, you see Joel, hand near his mouth, a lit cigarette between his fingers. The tip of the cigarette glowing red illuminating his face in an auburn glow. The sight makes your stomach flip, or maybe it's the virus. He catches your eye as you approach, now a few feet from him.

“Mornin.” He mumbles, voice groggy with sleep.

“Morning” You offer back sounding weak.

His peppered beard nearly sparkles in the dim light, his nose sculpting his face beautifully. Towering over you even at a distance.

Fuck he’s hot.

“We should head out a little early today so I have time to show you all our check-in spots,” He says after another puff.

“Sounds good to me!” You say eagerly, slightly embarrassed at your peppiness. 

He tosses the cigarette into the snow, before stepping on it with his boot, turning away from you and towards the gate. You're suddenly very thankful for Jesse's illness, given now you get to be alone with possibly the hottest man you have ever seen. 

Fumbling for the key he unlocks the gate, before having to open a set of precautionary doors, that you remember entering just a few months ago after night patrol found you nearly dead.

“Watch your step.” Joel throws back at you as you exit the final gate and start up a path of icy rocks.

“Got it.” You retort.

Looking up you can see the moonlit glow of the frozen rocks, a long path up into the cover of the forest. It's eerie, too quiet, and too steep. You would not know what to do without Joel here. Even though his presence puts your mind at ease, it's still terrifying while dark. You had almost forgotten what it's like to not be in Jackson. A whole year of struggling to survive on your own forgotten in a handful of months.

I’m spoiled. You think.

You know Jackson has spoiled you but it's not like you don't deserve it.

 The thoughts of your life before, outside the walls of Jackson, creep into your mind and you become nauseous.

“How long will we be out here?” You ask, trying to get your mind back to Joel.

“Well-” He sighs. “Depends on how many stragglers we have to get through. If the weather holds up and there's nothing out of the blue, the whole watch will be about 8 hours.” 

“Eight hours?” You repeat shocked.

“Yep, a whopping eight hours.” He says sarcastically. “Forget how you outbreak, kids never worked a normal job.” He chuckles to himself.

“I was born as soon as the outbreak started, I think that's hard enough.” You say smiling. He huffs.

“I’d take eight-hour shifts over an infection any day.” You smile.

“Yeah me too.” He replies.

It's quiet again and the awkward tension seeps back in making you more uneasy. The sound of his boots crunching the snow under him fills the air, and you're now closer to the woods. You follow Joel a few feet back, studying his frame while he can't see you. 

Why can’t you think of anything to say and why is he so quiet? You pray for Joel to say something, anything, and when he doesn't, you force yourself to talk.

“Do you like your shifts with Jesse?” 

“Jesse's good, a little woman crazy but he's fine. At least he's a good shot.” He lets out a huff.

“Yep, that sounds like Jesse.” you smile to yourself.

The conversation goes silent again and you begin to wonder if it's just this awkward in your head. The path evens out as you enter the brush, and Joel turns his flashlight on, illuminating the now even darker path. As the forest thickens the moon becomes less and less of a help, your eyes strain, trying to make out the terrain. 

Crunch Crunch Crunch

Focusing on the sounds of snow and wind you space out, now trying to ignore the awkwardness between you.

“How old did you say you were?” 

you didn't 

Joel asks awkwardly.

“Twenty-five.” You reply, 

“Jesus.” He says under his breath.

“How old did you say you were?” You ask playfully.

He laughs, seemingly embarrassed.

“Too old.” He says shortly.

You laugh and begin walking closer behind him. When finally in the complete cover of the woods Joel climbs up onto a large rock, one nearly bigger than you. After getting himself up right, he reaches a hand down to you. He looks majestic like this, so tall above you looking down with a rough and large hand extended. Even his thick wool coat can't fully conceal how large his biceps and chest are. You want to take a picture of him. 

Him saying your name, snaps you back into reality, grabbing his hand quickly, he hoists you up onto the rock. His powerful tug launches you faster than you expected. Your foot lands on a chunk of ice and you slip slightly before he holds you up with the hand he was holding. Dangling from his strong  grip you quickly try to find some kind of footing grunting in pain.

His other hand comes down to the collar of your clothing grabbing it and pulling you up. You reach for his arms for stability and take a breath before opening your eyes to look up at him. You're a mess, knees weak, one arm on his bicep the other on his flexed forearm staring up at him like a hurt puppy. You snap your head back down and release him, brushing yourself off. He slowly lets go of your jacket collar and hand before huffing out a chuckle

“Told you to be careful.” He beams down at you.

Your face is so red it's warming you in contrast to the freezing night air.

“Not my fault you flung me over the rock.” You laugh lightly looking down to hide your face. Not only were you red but you are trying to hide the grimaces you are making from the shooting pain in your ankle.

“Whatever you say darlin'.” He laughs.

And, oh that made your stomach do actual flips. You freeze as he starts down the path again, you're trying to comprehend the nickname, and why it sounded so good coming from his lips.

Darlin’....

 Shaking your head you follow after him promptly. The wind picks up and your hair starts whipping onto your already red cheeks. It is cold, and the wind makes you feel even more miserable. Joel's hair, which had only grown since you joined Jackson, moved in the crisp breeze, he seemed to notice the wind picking up, and he started walking faster.

“I think we are getting caught in a storm.” He says defeatedly, pushing forward into the dark night. 

Your heart drops as you push to keep up with the older man who is somehow faster than you, your ankle screaming at you to stop.

“Let's turn back.” You suggest sighing, you pause for a moment to take the weight off of your foot. 

This earns a quick,

“No, too far back, we are closer to the first check-in.” His voice becomes more strained as the terrain gets more steep and the wind picks up. You quickly start following after him again, in a limp.

“How much further?” 

“Half a mile.” Joel quips.

“Focus on the trail. The wind is getting stronger, we have supplies at the check-in and can camp out there until day shift comes.” 

His strong legs take large strides up the mountain. You continue to follow, the wind nearly knocking you over at some points. The gusts of icy air start picking up fallen snow, blurring everything in a cloud of white dust. Your ankle only seems to be feeling worse as each twist and turn gets harder and harder to trek. In a panic, you grab Joel's backpack so as not to lose him. He yells something at you about the path you think, but you can't hear, the wind is screaming in your ears too loudly. Your ankle feels warm. Twigs and branches snap, each making you jump, you slip only slightly, catching yourself before continuing hot on Joel's trail. Your knuckles are white from the grip you have on his bag. Frozen in place. 

Finally, you see the outline of a shed, Snow, and ice slinging into the side of it from the wind. You see the back of Joel's head raise as he spots the structure before his pace picks up even more and you're practically being dragged. Noticing this he blindly reaches back, taking hold of your forearm and dragging you to the front of him, his warm chest pressed against your back. The wind slams into him, blocking it from you. He pushes you slowly, now noticing your limp. Step by step you make your way to the wooden shed. You hear him breathing ruggedly in your ear, your gasp and breaths fill the air along with his. Finally at the door moving you to the side yet not taking his hands off you he opens the door and shoves you inside. The sound of whirling wind, snow, and branches snapping disappears outside of the dark room, muffling the chaos nearly completely. 

Joel puts a large wood plank in the shed's lock and takes a deep breath before turning to you. He looks you up and down.

“You okay? You slipped a few times pretty good back there.” He sighs trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah, I think I'm good.” You breathe deeply and try to think. “I twisted my ankle a little though.” You sigh.

Throwing down your heavy bag you plop down on the dirt floor next to it. You definitely did something more than twist it because the pain is radiating up into your knee, making it hard to hide your discomfort. 

Inside the shed is small, there's enough room for you, Joel, and a small stove with a plastic crate filled with what looked like ammo and food and first aid, underneath it. Joel looks down at you and you meet his gaze. The feeling of his chest against your back lingers on your skin and in your thoughts. You push your thighs together and look away, hoping he can't read your mind. He kneels in front of you grabbing your ankle suddenly.

“Shit!” You hiss trying to pull your leg back up to your body.

He takes hold of your leg again, this time underneath your knee. You move around trying to find a comfortable position.

“Stop squirming, I need to look at your ankle.”

As he wishes you hold as still as possible as he pulls your pant leg up and begins to untie your boot. Gently he slides off the shoe and pulls your sock off halfway. Unveiling your ankle beat red and swollen. Joel cringes at the sight of it and gently puts your leg back on the ground. Reaching behind himself he grabs the plastic tote and opens it looking for what you assume to be painkillers.

“It's really not that bad, I'll be okay, just need to lay off it for a bit.” You sound defeated.

“We have pain killers in here, you can-” 

You cut him off “I'm okay, and I'm not wasting Jacksons supplies.”

He looks at you, at your ankle, and then slowly up your body. 

“You're not going to be able to walk back down with that.” He says.

You go to disagree with him but you stop yourself because you know he's right, there's no way in hell.

“Im sorry, I-” 

“Not your fault.” He cuts you off and places the small crate at your legs for you to prop your foot on.

“I know I just- I feel like the town already doesn't like me, hell I know Tommy doesn't. And I just don't want to be a problem.”

“Tommy’s a paranoid old man,” He begins. “I love my brother but his suspicions get the best of him sometimes, he loves Jackson, and wants to keep it safe, don't take it personal kid.” His eyes show you his sincerity, and you look down, still ashamed.

He looks up at you saying nothing sympathy written across his face. He groans as he gets up from his knees now looking down at you, examining.

“I hope day shift brings up a horse. We gon’ have to carry you if not.” 

You cringe at the thought of the issues you're causing but know he's right.

“As for this storm,” He walks around the room and cracks the door open slightly before having to slam his body on it to get the wind to stop pouring through. 

“Yeah-” He breathes heavily, locking the door back. “That's gonna hold up for a while.” He puts his fingers on the bridge of his knows like he's trying to figure out what to do.

Joel then spends the next twenty minutes doing something you may call nesting. As you watch, you can sense the anxiety pouring off him. He paces back and forth, seemingly unable to calm down. While he doesn't say anything, the worried look on his face speaks for him. It's as if he's trying to distract himself from the nervousness that looks to be consuming him. He checks and double-checks the locked door, and starts a fire in the small stove, he meticulously tends to it. The pacing continues, with Joel occasionally glancing at the door, as if expecting the weather to magically change.

At this point you're lying on the ground head on a Joel’s pack, just staring into the fire.

“Jesus sit down Joel.” You finally tell him, getting tired just from watching him.

He pauses his pacing and looks at you as if he didn’t know he was even doing it. Mumbling an apology, he walks over to you and sits against the wall a foot or two from your head. You two sit in silence for a while, listening to the fire crackle what sticks were left in there, while the wind whistles through the small shed.

“You got any more of those cigarettes you had earlier?” You ask shyly, like you are doing something bad. You meet his gaze craning your neck up while he looks down confused and surprised.

“Didn't know you smoke” He huffs, reaching into the backpack under your head, he grabs a small white beat-up box and pulls from it, a neatly home-rolled cigarette.

You hum, admiring his strong hands digging through the box.

“Don't tell on me.” You smile looking at him sheepishly. He rolls his eyes before sticking the cigarette in his mouth and bringing a match to the end of it, lighting it and inhaling deeply. Taking it from his mouth he brings the cigarette to your lips until you open them, sticking it between them. Your stomach does cartwheels as he focuses on your lips wrapped around the smoke. Inhaling deeply you lock eyes, staring back into his. He takes the cigarette in front you and lets it rest in his hand as you both exhale.

“How long until they come for us?” You sigh after gently taking the cigarette from Joel’s hand and sticking it in your mouth again.

“Day shift starts at 1:30, and it’s still dark out,” He takes the smoke from you and takes a drag before exhaling.

“So we still have a while sweetie.”

You hide the smile that forces its way to your face by adjusting your body so that your head is now closer to his thigh.

You both take turns puffing on the cigarette until it gets too short to hold, Joel tosses it into the stove, and wipes his hands on his pants. You however are plotting on how to get closer to him. Too shy to say anything, but too desperate to not be closer you casually scoot up more and place your head on his thigh before turning away from him, pretending to get comfy. He gets stiff at this and you get nervous.

shit was that too much?

Frozen in fear you listen and wait. Slowly he relaxes and you hear his head thump against the wall. You let a breath out you didn’t know you were holding, and begin to relax. It was nearly 15 minutes later when you started to hear a small grumble coming from the man under you, he was snoring. You smiled to yourself, proud that you had managed to lay on him and not weird him out, maybe he likes it as much as you do. When he wakes up you'll think about testing your luck again, for now though, you need to rest. Closing your eyes you drift to sleep on his thigh, thinking about his hands all over you.

Edit: Chapter 2 will be coming out soon, be on the look out!

[haechvn]

When I Had The Chance

Pairing: Shuri x F!Reader

Warning: Angst. M!rder. Dark!Shuri. Glory. I think. A little Smut. Shuri is sick of this shit.

Summary/Request: can you write the reader getting hurt by Namor and Shuri being mad?

Word Count: 1.05k

Author’s Note:Takes place weeks after Wakanda Forever so beware of spoilers. Anon, I hope you don’t mind but I made this a bit darker than I originally was gonna write. Ahhh. Our baby is a little bit evil. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Taglist :  @melodykisses, @blackhottie25, @tonakings, @coalmistyy, @szalipcombo, @prettyluhlaiiii, @yelenabelovasgf, @callmeoncette, @clqrosmgc, @beautybyfire, @homelessmicechild

Her panther claws were covered in blood that clearly wasn’t her own. Shuri launched the dismembered head down on the floor of the throne room, blood from the body part making a nauseating trail as it rolled and rolled until King M‘Baku’s foot ceased its movement . You could hear a pin drop. The room filled with council members and the Doja Moilaje was eerily quiet and still. Never in a million years would anybody have guessed that Princess Shuri would ever commit actual murder, let alone walk around with the proof.

Tattered and bloody wings were found where the sockets for eyes are meant to be, scratch marks littered the entire face of the creature and if you were to just quickly glance, you wouldn’t be able to recognize that the head belonged to none other than Namor, the King of Talokan.

“How many more people,” Shuri taunts, stalking slowly toward the King, glaring at him with eyes filled with nothing but rage and fury, “do I need to lose before this Bast forsaken council chooses to do something to stop this madness? Why do I have to lose and you all don’t?!”

Earlier that day, you had been helping the River tribe watch the waters when Namor attacked. After a far too many conversations with Namora, he concluded that yielding to Shuri made him powerless and weak, striking Wakanda when no one expected it. Having previously met you alongside the Princess, he stabbed you in the same place he did her, knowing the injury would be much more fatal for you and that it would draw the Princess out. He was correct but that mistake is what cost him his life.

The Princess of Wakanda is unrecognizable, eyebrows pointed downwards, jaws clenched beyond measure and her cornrows messy, looking as though one was ripped from her scalp. Chest heaving up and down, Shuri could not control her rage or her running mind, everything moving around her at one hundred miles per second.

“What is the reason for this nonsense,” the Merchant Tribe council member cried out, slamming her staff into the ground demanding an answer. “Do you know the danger you have now put Wakanda in? Eternal war with Talokan just because he hurt your girlfr–.”

Her grating voice stopped as she started grasping at her throat, dropping to her knees in front of the Princess, convulsing in anguish and trying to cry out for help. Her blood seeping through her hands as Shuri watched her choke on the vibranium ring she had thrown at the younger woman. The struggling halted as she fell onto hard ground. Good riddance.

Stepping over her body, Shuri continued her speech. “I don’t believe you all wish to end up like her do you? But after all, you would rather sit on your high horses and watch me die trying to save this country before you step in to help me! Now you will all pay the price for your sins.”

She began hitting herself mercilessly with her black panther suit still intact, mimicking the movementsn and shouts of a mad gorilla. Okoye cried out for the Princess to stop, confused by her overly aggressive gestures but Shuri had already blocked out all the voices around her a long time ago. They went to her mother’s funeral and placed a hand on her shoulder for comfort but that is all that she was given. When she needed them most, she was shunned as the “child” they still deemed her to be. She has seen too much to be considered a child.

It’s a true metaphor really. She had been beating herself up for the longest time for allowing her mothers’ killer to walk away breathing. The same way her coward of a brother did, she thought. She wanted to be different. She wanted to make things right but she couldn’t do that with the council not letting her make her own decisions. Well they are going to hear her now.

Building up enough kinetic energy, Shuri made her way to the middle of the throne room and body slammed the clay red ground, causing an explosion to occur, knocking everyone and everything in the room out of their seats and off their feet. Glass from the decorated cleaning began crashing to the floor as the wall of the palace shook, knocking down the Dora that stood up above from their posts. Screams of terror and pain was all she could hear and that, that brought a smile to her face. She could get used to this type of power.

Standing up and regaining her posture, she begins to yell at the top of her lungs with all of her might.

“From this moment on, I recant my decision to place Lord M’Baku as ruler of Wakanda and I,” whipping around to make sure all of the injured could hear her cries, curls covering her eyes only showcasing her sinister smile, “daughter of T’Chaka and Ramonda, am now the sovereign ruler of this land. Queen of Wakanda! Ready your troops. We invade Talokan at dawn!”

“You like how this feels, my princess?,” slurping you up like a madman, Shuri drove her tongue so deep inside of you, you swore you could feel her touching your heart. “Namor really thought he was going to take this sweet creamy pussy away from me? Hmm. Not on my watch,” she purrs stroking your clit with her index and ring fingers at super speed. She just wanted to bury herself in you and flee from all the problems of the outside world so she brought out an updated version of her vibranium strap, your favorite, and fucked your brains out until you couldn’t take anymore.

After she reached her climax, her anger started to wear off. Who has she become? Feeling the tug of your lips on her neck, she easily snapped out of her intrusive thoughts. She is the Queen of the most powerful nation on this planet and she has given everything but she will be damned if she has to lose you too. Nothing and no one will get in her way and if that means eternal war with the sea, then so be it. If she was able to kill the Takolan God with her bare hands, then his disciples were next.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

chapter xvii - gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 3,500+

masterlist

It only took two turns for Y/N to guess that she had already made a mistake and was surely going to get lost in this ginormous house. 

But it seemed to take even less time before she heard her name being called and Eris’ quick steps behind her. 

Y/N stopped walking, but refused to turn around. 

“We both know you have no idea where you are going,” Eris commented darkly from behind her. 

She sighed and turned to look at him. 

He took that as her silent invitation to let him show her back to her bedchambers. Well…his bedchambers.  But she could sleep in his bed for as long as she so pleased – even if he wasn’t in it along with her. 

The walk was 20 minutes of silence. And Eris knew better than to try and force her to break it when she was in such a delicate state. Little did he know, his silent presence was starting to comfort her.

“I meant what I said,” Eris finally spoke when they stood outside the door to their bedchambers. 

“About what?” She asked for clarity in a soft voice. 

“You are not a prisoner here.”

She just stared into his eyes, looking for any hint of lie. But found none. 

“This home is your own. Go where you please. Use what you wish. If there’s anything you desire, you need only ask.” Then he nodded towards the door. “There are clothes in the wardrobe for you. I had the seamstresses working all day and they were quite confident they got your sizing correct.”

Y/N blinked. “You…Y-You had them make custom dresses for me, all in one day?” 

Eris could not seem to understand why she was confused – and so taken aback. 

“Of course,” he answered, as if it were obvious. “You arrived with almost no belongings.” Only his cloak and the weapons he had gifted her. 

Then she opened the door in a rush and marched to the wardrobe, leaving the door ajar to silently invite him in. 

Y/N opened it to see the most beautiful dresses she’d ever seen. Yes, Rhysand had gifted her clothes while in Night Court. But these dresses…they felt more... her. And there wasn’t just dresses: there was an equal amount of pants and tops, as well. 

“Eris,” she whispered. “This is too much. I…I do not deserve such beautiful clothing.” 

To her surprise, Eris’ eyes darkened and he stepped closer to her. 

Then his stare went up and down her body – not objectifying her, though as if he was trying to find something he couldn’t seem, but she did. 

His amber eyes stared and she wanted to look away, but couldn’t. 

Eris voice was low as he slowly said, “I would like to know who in this life made you ever believe that you are undeserving of clothing.”

Y/N opened and closed her mouth a couple times.

When he put it so simply, it did make her rethink. 

“But it’s not just clothing,” she argued. “It’s far too lovely.”

“So you don’t believe you deserve lovely clothing?”

Y/N glared at him now, seeing the game he was playing. 

Eris took another step closer to her. And it made Y/N’s heart beat a little faster. She wondered if his fae senses could hear it. 

His eyes flickered from her y/e/c eyes to her lips before he said, “If there is one thing I shall achieve during your stay here, it’s to untrain that mind of yours and stop you from ever thinking you are undeserving of the very best.” His head tilted closer to her. “You should be gifted anything you have ever wanted. You…” He paused. “You should be worshipped, Y/N.”

He lifted his head back, giving her space to linger on what he just said. 

Y/N was grateful for it, because she was convinced her knees would give out at any second.

If her heart was speeding up before, now it was threatening to beat out of her chest. Her breathing was heavy, and she was struggling to control it. 

No man had ever spoken to her the way Eris just did. And she somehow knew that no one else ever would, either.

Eris took a step backward. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

He bowed his head and left, closing the door gently behind him. 

Y/N stood frozen in place for minutes before she could find it in herself to move.

–🍁–🍁–🍁–

The next morning, Lucien was once again guarding her door.

Y/N suspected that Eris assigned at least one of his guards while she slept, before his brother reached his post. 

This time, Lucien was standing and reading a book. 

“Do I really require a babysitter?” Y/N moaned. 

Though, if she were being honest, she’d recognize that she had no idea what she would do with herself in this place alone. 

Lucien smiled in that cocky way of his. Then he took in Y/N’s dress carefully.  “I see you are making use of your new wardrobe…”

She said nothing and only awkwardly shifted her weight as her face got warm. 

“I don’t think I need another tour,” Y/N announced quietly, hoping not to sound rude. 

“Good. Because I did not plan on giving one.”

“He must be busy…” Y/N thought aloud as she started following her escort. 

Lucien frowned. “It is not easy transitioning to High Lord, especially after this Court has been ruled by Beron for so long.” 

“Will the people accept him?” 

“It would be best if they did…” he hummed. 

Y/N paused and looked at Lucien with fear. “He wouldn’t…Eris would never…he wouldn’t hurt anyone for the disrespect if they did not…w-would he?” 

Lucien seemed amused by both her concern and uncertainty. “Doubtful. Eris wishes do abolish Beron’s evil, not renew it. But there are still those who will question his power and if he is fit to rule at all.” 

“But the Cauldron chose him!” Y/N argued. "The powers of Autumn Court are with him.” 

Lucien shrugged. “Sometimes the courtiers need more than that.” 

“Where are we going?” She suddenly asked. 

“To the kitchens,” Eris answered. “My brother nearly throttled me when he found out I had taken you on a three-hour tour without feeding you beforehand.”

“Will you stay…now that Eris is High Lord?” 

Her waiting gaze was nervous, as if she was scared the question was rude and she was stepping out of line by asking it. 

Lucien sighed. “My brother has assured me that one of his first acts as the new High Lord was to rescind my exile. I am welcome once again in Autumn Court.” 

“But do you wish to actually return?” 

It was obvious these were all questions that had been racing through Lucien’s mind. But it was also obvious that he did not have steadfast answers. 

“It is nice having you here…” Y/N admitted quietly, giving him time to consider his answer. But also offering him an out to change the subject, and not answer at all. 

Lucien gave her a shy smirk. “The feeling is mutual.” Then he frowned. “But you intend to return to the Mortal Lands as soon as Eris deems it safe.” 

Y/N stopped walking and frowned. “You must think me no better than Elain.”

“Well, Elain does not even acknowledge my existence. At least you actually converse with my brother.” 

It took Y/N a moment to realize he was teasing her. She looked up to see him smiling mischievously down at her. 

Y/N’s brow furrowed. “Perhaps you fae will never understand it…”

“Understand what?” 

“The power of choice was taken away from us. We mortals live a short life. A bad decision – or the lack of choice – could greatly change our lifetime. Our lifespan…it’s just a blink of your immortality.” 

Lucien understood what Y/N was trying to tell him. And he wondered if this was why Elain pushed him away again and again. He was thrust onto her at her most vulnerable, ruining the life she had imagined for herself. 

“So…you are upset that the Cauldron chose for you?” 

“Feyre explained that mating bonds do not always imply love…”

Lucien wanted to correct her, to tell her that was not the case for his brother. But he knew it was not his place. Perhaps it was not yet love Eris had for Y/N. But Lucien could see it was quickly nearing. Without the threat of Beron, Eris was free to choose his mate – choose to love and protect her. If only Y/N realized that it was not a situation of the Cauldron forcing them together out of spite. 

“This is true,” Lucien couldn’t help but agree. “Throughout history, some mates have despised each other. But you have spent time around Feyre and Rhysand, Nesta and Cassian. Surely you understand the power the bond can mean for others.” 

Y/N didn’t respond, just remained lost in her own head. 

––

Lucien had snuck them into the kitchens that were bustling with energy and cooks. There was a little nook in the corner, out of everyone’s way. It was just big enough so two could eat together discreetly. 

As soon as they were seated, a cook came over with a shy, but warm smile. She appeared to be lesser fae, with almost red skin and bright, golden hair. Her eyes were entirely black though – no irises or pupils to be found. 

She bowed her head to both of them, the gesture taking Y/N aback. In both hands were two plates full of breakfast. She gently placed them down. 

“I will be back with coffee and tea,” she told them almost apologetically. 

“Thank you,” Y/N managed to say before the cook scurried out of sight. 

Y/N looked to Lucien with a questioning gaze.

“There are many who wish to meet the legendary witch who rid the court of Beron Vanserra.” 

Y/N scoffed. “I hardly even helped. I was more in the way than anything. The winds tell me it was you, Eris, and your mother who truly ended him.” 

Lucien’s face turned serious as he said, “If you think my brother could have found the courage to face Beron without you, then you truly do not understand your importance here.”

The cook returned, holding two giant mugs in each hand with impressive finesse. In one set was coffee and in their other appeared to be earl grey tea. 

Lucien gave a nod and looked into her eyes as he said, “Thank you, Marwyna.” 

Even with her red skin, she seemed to be blushing at such attention. 

“Yes, thank you. It looks delicious,” Y/N also urged. 

The two of them ate without conversation. If it weren’t for the bustling of the kitchens they sat in, there would’ve been complete silence between the two. 

Lucien could tell something had been struck in Y/N’s mind and she had no retreated there, thinking and thinking and thinking. 

It wasn’t until both of their plates were nearly clean when she finally spoke. 

“I make him weak,” Y/N breathed. “I am just a mortal. I could so easily be used against him. It would be better if I….if I just d-d-disappeared.” 

Lucien watched Y/N, reading her face to see that she truly believed the words she spoke.

But it would not be him that could make her realize how wrong she was. He would need to have a long conversation with Eris. Only his brother could make Y/N understand how important she was – to him, to Autumn Court. 

So, all Lucien stead was, “There is nothing weak about you, Y/N.” 

She blinked in surprise at his declaration. 

“Now if we are finished eating and feeling sorry for ourselves, I think a nice walk around the gardens would do us well.” 

A whisper of a smirk showed on Y/N’s lips as she nodded. 

—🍁—🍁—🍁—

“That is all for today,” Eris announced to his table of advisors as he stood. 

He could sense everyone’s mental exhaustion. But mostly he could feel is own.

There was…much to be repaired in Autumn Court. Beron ruled with fear and without any mercy, and it would take a lot to undo such philosophies. 

His mother sat to his right and gave him a sympathetic look as the fae bowed their heads and slowly took their leave from the great hall. 

However, Leonora stayed behind. 

Eris had already grown exhausted with his High Lord duties. Though he had prepared for centuries to have such power, nothing could’ve prepared him for the toll it took on his mind and body. 

Leonora waited for them to be left alone before she spoke. 

Then she subtly nodded her head to the other end of the hall that led to a balcony that oversaw the courtyard below. 

Eris held out his arm for his mother before moving. 

She squeezed his arm to comfort him. “You cannot change this Court overnight, Eris.” 

“We are moving too slowly,” he argued. 

Leonora smiled. “I know you have patience, for you waited centuries to for this opportunity. But you must still practice that same patience to mold Autumn Court for the good of its denizens.” 

As they walked onto the balcony, Eris was hit with the fresh, brisk air of autumn. The sun was nearing the horizon as it set for the day.

It was common for mist and fog to linger in this court.

And today’s dusk was no different, leaving a haunting feeling to the courtyard below. 

When Eris looked over the edge of the railing, he froze. 

Below were his acclaimed smoke hounds. 

Everyone in the Forest House feared them. They did not take kindly to anyone that wasn't their master. Because they were feared for good reason: trained to hunt and kill – if ordered. They only tolerated their handlers by command of Eris, since he could not solely take care of them himself – especially now that he was High Lord. Even his mother was careful around them. They’d never attack her, but they were by no means fond of the Lady of Autumn either.

But below him, the pack was surrounding Y/N, who sat on the ground as they all wagged their tails, fighting each other to lick her. 

Two pups from the most recent litter were cuddled on Y/N's lap, as she giggled from all the affection the adult hounds gave her.  

Then Eris spotted Lucien a few yards away from Y/N, with a look of exasperation. Most of his childhood Lucien spent trying to win over his brother’s smoke hounds. They only grew to tolerate him, never showing him acceptance or affection. 

Any time Lucien so much as shifted his weight, the hounds would interpret it as him trying to get closer to Y/N, and they would all let out a warning growl.

It made Lucien roll his eyes. And Eris swore he heard his youngest brother mutter, “Stupid, overprotective mutts. Of course you would like her…” 

“Seems like your hounds have brought your mate some joy,” Leonora hummed as she also looked down at the sight with a knowing smile. 

Eris couldn’t deny how much it warmed his heart. 

Perhaps they remembered Y/N from that dreadful day he found her in the forest. Or perhaps they could also sense that Y/N was their master’s mate. 

—

“There is so many of them!” Y/N giggled as the hounds kissed her face, tickling her. 

“They will not even let me pet them and look at you!” Lucien called out bitterly. 

Then a whistle pierced the air. 

The pack of one dozen dogs immediately retreated, forming a straight line, like little soldiers. 

Y/N sat straight and twisted to see that they were now facing Eris, who had stepped into the courtyard and stood straight with his hands clasped behind my back. 

She also jumped to her feet. For some reason, she felt like she had been caught doing something mischievous. But she still had the two puppies in each hand. Clearly, they were too young to know the same commands as the others. 

Eris walked further into the courtyard. “I see you have met my smoke hounds.”

Y/N quickly, but gently, put the two puppies on the ground. But as soon as she let them go, they looked up at her and started whining. 

Eris looked at the two handlers, who had been standing watch, and then at his brother.

“Leave us,” he commanded politely, but firmly. 

Lucien glared at his eldest brother. But still followed his command, giving Y/N a polite nod before also leaving the courtyard. 

Then it was just Y/N, Eris, and his hounds. 

Y/N, still thinking like she was caught doing something wrong, immediately stuttered out, “L-Lucien and I were just going for a walk when we came upon your handlers and the dogs. They approached me! I didn’t mean to disrupt them.”

Eris finally smirked at her. “You seem to be under the impression that I plan on scolding you.”

Y/N blinked. “Well…I…yes.” 

Eris wondered what he had to do to make his mate realize she could never do anything to upset him so pettily. 

He looked at his hounds and said, “Effrenate.” 

The hounds relaxed and all went to greet their master with wagging tails. 

“Animals seem to have a certain draw to you…” Eris noted as he kneeled to greet his dogs with pets and affection. 

“Most witches have a connection to that of nature,” Y/N mumbled, almost as if she were embarrassed by this certain trait. 

“So you have bewitched my hounds?” Eris asked with playfulness in his eyes. 

“Of course not,” she quickly answered with a huff, as she picked up the two puppies again and walked toward their master. 

“Do you have names for them all?” Y/N asked. 

“Of course.” His gaze went up to the two in her hand. “That is Aspen and Brutus.” 

Both puppies tails wagged even harder at their names being called out. Y/N smiled down at them when she noticed it. 

Then he went around and listed off the rest of the names.

“Now that I know they are all so fond of you,” Eris began. “Perhaps I should leave a few of them to guard you during your stay.” 

“I wouldn’t mind the company. But is my safety really at such risk here?” 

“I should hope not,” Eris answered lowly. “Though it would ease my guilt from leaving you alone for such long periods of time.” 

“You are a High Lord. You have more important matters than entertaining me. Though I hope you start to take pity on Lucien and dismiss his duties as my personal jester.” 

Eris smiled at her subtle jab toward his brother. 

His smiles were rare before. But now there was brightness there that Y/N doubted existed before Beron’s demise. 

He was so handsome. Not that it hadn’t been the first thing Y/N noticed when she had met Eris officially in the Night Court. But Y/N would not be surprised if the power of being a High Lord somehow enhanced his looks.  

Eris’ amber eyes almost glow with a warmth that only ever seemed to be directed toward her. And his cloak-like jacket fit his body perfectly, showing off his posture and strong presence. He would immediately be noticed in any room he walked into.

“You should never hide your smile,” Y/N blurted out before she could stop herself.

Her eyes widened in embarrassment when she realized what she had just said aloud.

“Excuse me,” she quickly added. “I should not say such things so carelessly.” 

But Eris ignored her apology. “Whatever smiles you see are your doing.” 

Y/N's face warmed at his implication. 

But then something dark suddenly clouded her face. “I should return to my rooms.”

Eris stood up from his dogs. “Will you not join me for dinner?” 

Y/N carefully placed the two puppies in Eris’ grasp and only looked at them as she answered, “I would like to eat dinner alone in my rooms, if that is alright.” 

“O-Of course,” was all Eris could manage to say back. 

What would he do instead? Force her to have dinner with him? Is that not what Tamlin did when Feyre was imprisoned in Spring Court? Or at least, that is what Eris had heard. 

Had he said something to upset her? 

“Your training,” Eris called out before Y/N could fully escape the courtyard. 

She turned to him, brow wrinkled with clear confusion. 

“Do you wish to continue your training?” Eris clarified. 

Even though it was just the two of them, Y/N still looked around the courtyard as if she would find another person Eris could possibly be talking to. 

“I would,” she finally answered slowly. 

“I will assign my Weapons Master to train with you tomorrow. He shall meet you here.” 

Y/N opened her mouth to protest. 

“Before you say some nonsense about not wanting to be a bother,” Eris continued before she could speak. “It would bring me great peace to know you are keeping up with your training.”

She just watched him for a moment. 

Eventually she nodded, and said, “Tomorrow then.”

––––––

*for those curious, the breed I used to reference Eris' smoke hounds is a Dogo Argentino. (I know most people imagine a grey hound, but they look like rats to me and I like this breed more. And they seem more badass anyways.)

Please write me a book report, comment, send me a message. They make me happy and keep me writing. Be like @pancakefancake.

Chapter XVIII

[thinkingotherwise]

AlHaitham x reader HC Part 1

Maybe in some distant future I'll get my shit together and expand some of these ideas.

I just think he would be whipped bad for someone and so protective. But at the same time he would unconsciously made them look after him like a kid, because he's got other things to do (like reading another book or complaining about scholars).

A - Z fluff headcanons (stories ideas?)

Part 1 A - I Part 2 J - R Part 3 S - Z (+ Y again)

Ancient language - secret conversation in lost languages

Having a secret conversation with Haitham at academy in lost language you studied together and telling each other sweet words of encouragement for his job as Acting Grand Sage and your as Acting Scribe or talking with him about other scholars in the language no one beside you two understand, him of course correcting you with a smirk whenever you make a mistake

Book - sharing book time while laying on his lap

Spending free time on couch while reading, having your head in Haitham's lap and finally falling asleep while he pats your head whenever he is not turning the pages, sometimes he reads to you some of the less scientific books but after a long day of work you fall asleep either way

Cold - sharing gloves and scarf in cold

Meeting Haitham during cold evening, giving him your scarf and sharing your gloves with him when you find out that he has red cheeks from cold and his hands are freezing cold, holding his freezing hand tightly inside your slighlty bigger gloves, which you bought specifically for those occasions

Diner date - making diner fiasco and going out

Trying to prepare Haitham's favourite dish for a little diner date you planned but failing miserably while you also focus on a dessert and when neither of the dishes go well and he comes home to find you in the middle of the mess you created he proposes to go out to eat after helping you clean everything in the kitchen not forgetting to tease you about the failed activity

Eye contact - secret eye contact communication

Spending so much time together you can held some parts of the conversation with your eyes, when Haitham has enough of Kaveh and wants to say something you shoot him a glare and he responds with sigh and you move behind him to embrace him while Kaveh continues talking or you stopping him from some mean comments that he can shot at other scholars with just a short look, raised eyebrow and a tilt of you head

Favourable outcome - staying after hours pays off

After complaining about you being late with documents exchanging overtime help with filling them for being a part-time assistant of the Scribe and following him for the next month, and later on staying with him as his assistant willingly

Gymnastics - training together and stretching

Finally making Haitham agree for training session together and he's surprised at how flexible you are, he will stop mid-workout just to look at you and appreciate your figure while you sweat your ass off

Hug - comforting hugs

More of the time it's you that need a hug but there are times where the Scribe needs a hug even though he won't say anything, embracing him with his head on your chest on one of the sofas and the most comfiest blanket you could've find over you two

Injury - taking care and fussing about one's injury

You fussing over a deep cut on Alhaitham's arm is not even half the worry you pour over him as when he fusses over a small paper cut on your finger, after not so delicately treating you he lightly pecks your injury and strokes the skin around it with his warm fingers

[thebiggerbear]

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that." - Rachel Gatina Prompt Response

Summary: Rachel, who has never spoken to you before, approaches you to ask for a favor. Despite what Bevin said, Rachel decides that she has to gauge this whole "being into girls" thing properly. And she's picked you to help her with that. ...Lucky you.

Pairing: Rachel Gatina x Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). I started quite a few scenarios for Rachel's response to this prompt but none of them felt right until this scenario popped into my head. I tried to keep this as 2000's as possible. Hope this is okay.

Both characters are over eighteen.

This is meant to take place right after the Bevin and Rachel bathroom scene in 4x13.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: mention of implied sex; internalized homophobia (I hope that's the correct term)

Word Count: 3757

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Rachel Taglist: @nancymcl

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Dean version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Jason version ✨ Tom version ✨ CJ version ✨ Anael version ✨ Alec version ✨ SDV Leah version

You were just getting your books out of your locker when someone suddenly appeared next to you. You glanced over to see a familiar redhead smirking at you. You rolled your eyes and went back to your locker. “What do you want?”

Rachel Gatina had been the new girl at Tree Hill High who was giving Brooke Davis a run for her money and her non-exclusive boyfriend. Now, she was besties with Brooke and constantly toggling between mean girl and party girl. Either way, she had never been very nice to you or anyone else (except Mouth) who wasn’t in the “cool cliques”. 

“Can’t one senior come over to say hello to her fellow senior?”

“When said senior has never spoken a word to this fellow senior? Then no.” You slammed your locker shut and moved past her to head to class.

“I’m speaking to you now.” She was keeping pace with you, great.

“Oh, well then let me put my entire day on hold since Queen Rachel is speaking to me.” You turned a glare on her. 

“Not queen, just…maybe a little royalty.”

You rolled your eyes again and kept moving. You were going to be late for AP Lit and you did not want to be late for that class. Mr. Barton had a rule that he enforced with an iron fist: one minute late, no class for you. He would lock the door and not unlock it again until the class was over. 

“As it so happens, I need a favor.” She was still following you.

“Oh, imagine that. A favor.” You still didn’t stop. 

“Oh, come on. For someone I’ve never spoken a word to before, you’re being awfully harsh, don’t you think?” She wasn’t wrong. The truth was that she intimidated you a little bit. And that was your go to when it came to intimidation: pushback and biting sarcasm.

“I’m late for class,” you threw at her. “And if I don’t hurry, I’ll be—”

She grabbed your hand and yanked you off to the side, right into the girls’ bathroom.

“What the— Rachel, what are you doing? I’m about to be locked out of class.” You hurried towards the door but she blocked you. “Rachel,” you growled. “The bell is about to—”

The bell rang before you could finish your sentence. You had now officially been marked absent from Mr. Barton’s class and you were locked out. Great. You were screwed.

“So you miss one class, big deal. It’s not like you’re flunking.”

You crossed your arms and sighed. “How would you know that?”

“I asked around. I make it my business to know. Now, about that favor.”

“That you made me miss one of my most important classes for.”

She laid a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry. Just tell Barton you had a girl emergency. He’ll offer you a make-up paper before you can get out the word ‘tampon’. Besides, it’s not like you’ll be lying to him exactly. This is a girl emergency.” She smiled, placing her hand on her hip.

You walked over to the gross looking tampon dispensing machine and gestured to it. “If you needed one, it’s right here. Are you out of quarters?”

She smirked and flicked her hair back. “I like you. It’s a shame we didn’t talk before this. I get the feeling we could have been friends.”

“A cheerleader hanging out with a loner? Yes, I can definitely see that.”

“You call yourself a loner?” She laughed. “You’re far from it from what I’ve heard.”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “And your emergency is?”

She pressed her lips together and sat on one of the sinks, swinging her legs back and forth as she settled. “I’m not sure how to ask this without sounding…you know, gay, so I’m just going to ask.”

Your heart started to pound at the word ‘gay’. Oh no.

“Will you kiss me?”

Your eyes widened and your heart stopped altogether. Was she for real? 

She gave you an encouraging smile. “It’s just to see if something Bevin said is true or not.”

“Bevin?”

“Yeah. We had class together last period and we had to do this stupid assignment together. She said this thing and now I can’t get it out of my head.”

“So let me see if I’ve got this right. Bevin said something to you in class during an assignment you both were working on together and that had you finding me, who you’ve never spoken to before, to push me into the bathroom with you to ask me to kiss you but not wanting it to sound gay. To see if what Bevin said is true or not.”

Rachel shrugged. “More or less. Yeah.”

“Right.” You immediately began opening stall doors, seeing no one was in here thankfully. You then began checking underneath the sinks, the bathroom mirrors, anywhere a recording device of some kind could be installed. 

“What are you doing?” She asked when you quickly looked under her sink. “I said a kiss not…that.” 

“Wouldn’t you be so lucky,” you snapped. “I’m looking for recording devices of some kind. Someone hidden in here who’s going to jump out and let me know I’m on Punk’d or Candid Camera or something. Maybe you’ve got a couple of the cheerleaders hiding somewhere with a camera to take a picture. Maybe Brooke and a couple of jocks are just waiting outside the door to laugh and spread rumors.”

Rachel crossed her arms. “You are way too paranoid, you know that?”

You shrugged. “Can’t be too safe, especially when it comes to high school. Especially this high school.”

“I’ll have you know that most guys would be dying for the chance if I gave it to them. if I asked them to kiss me, they would already be over here, all over me.”

“I’m not a guy in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Of course I noticed, that’s why I asked.”

“So, you’re just looking for any girl to kiss you. Is that it?” Lucky you.

“Not just any girl. You.”

“Why me?”

“I’ve heard the rumors.”

You tensed up. “What rumors?”

She leaned forward. “You know. And I know you’re into me, even if you won’t admit it.”

She was right; you weren’t going to admit it. “Right, right. Question, how did you fit through the door just now with that massive ego of yours?”

“That’s not the only thing of mine that’s massive.” As if to illustrate her point, she leaned forward a little more until you could see straight down her cleavage. Well, she certainly wasn’t lying.

“Alright, first off, those rumors aren’t true. Secondly, let’s say I do this for you. What do I get in return?”

“This is a favor, not a deal,” she scoffed.

“How long would this have to be for?”

She shot you a look and sat up. “Wow, talk about giving a girl a complex. Is the idea of kissing me really that horrible for you?”

“I didn’t say that. I’m merely trying to determine what I’m going to be asking in trade.”

“Now, it’s a trade.” She huffed a laugh in disbelief. A moment later, she glanced over at you. “Five seconds. No more, no less.”

“Okay then, what I want in return is this: you never tell anyone about this.”

“That’s what you want in return?”

“Yep. I want your word that you won’t whisper a word of this to anyone. When you go away to college and you’re experimenting or whatever, sure you can mention that one kiss in the girls’ bathroom one time, but not here in Tree Hill. Never here in Tree Hill. Or to anyone from here and that includes Brooke. Deal?”

She gave you a nod. “Deal.”

“Alright.” Now you were feeling nervous and self-conscious. “So do I, uh, just come over there or do you come over here or do we meet in the middle or—”

“Just come over here,” she ordered, impatience coloring her tone.

“Okay,” you muttered, moving over to her. 

Rachel studied you and you began to feel like an exhibit in a museum or something. “So, we doing this or—”

“Shut up.” She cupped your face and leaned in, pressing her lips to yours. 

You were sort of having a little meltdown in your brain right then. Rachel Gatina was kissing you. The beautiful, cocky, queen of mean, sexy cheerleader Rachel Gatina was kissing you. Ever since she’d arrived, she had been turning heads, even yours. You never had the courage to approach her or say hello to her, even at a party the two of you were at. Especially since she didn’t seem all that nice. Never mind the whole cliques thing, Rachel had been right; there were rumors going around about you. Most of the girls on Rachel’s side of the hallway so to speak avoided you like the Plague and only acknowledged your existence to make fun of you or gossip about you if somehow the rumors got a second wind (which you made sure they never did, not from you anyway). 

But Rachel was beautiful although personality wise, she wasn’t exactly your type. Though she did prove to be a lot smarter than she let on. You may have asked around yourself, overheard a few things. Plus, you had it on pretty good authority that she may have been the one to cause the whole time capsule business which then led to— You didn’t want to think about that. Now or ever quite honestly. Besides, Mouth had made you promise to keep it to yourself about the capsule. It was obvious that even Mouth had a crush on her. 

You counted down the seconds in your head as you enjoyed the softness of her lips against yours, the smell of her perfume, the feeling of her hands on your face. When you reached the end, you went to pull back but she tugged you back in. Not only did she keep you there but she deepened the kiss. You could have sworn you felt the edge of her tongue against your lower lip.

You continued counting in your head and by 27, Rachel finally let you go. You took a step back and watched as she held her fingers up to her lips, staring at you. Then she did the last thing you expected (or if you were being honest, you totally expected it). She laughed out, “Oh my God.”

There it was. You waited for the joke, for Brooke to pop out of a stall that she mysteriously appeared into and begin laughing and pointing, for the whole school to start filing into the bathroom, one by one, to join in the merriment. “Yeah, that’s usually the reaction I get,” you muttered, wiping your lips with your fingers.

“No, not you. I mean…Bevin was right.” She laughed again, seeming almost pleasantly surprised.

And there was the joke. “Great. Glad she was. Now, if I can be set free from this Bathroom Bastille, that would be awesome. Thanks for the laughs.” You gave her a peace sign and began to walk towards the door. You fully expected to find some cheerleaders or Bevin or Brooke on the other side of it.

“Hey! Hold up a second.” She jumped down from the sink and grabbed your shirt sleeve to stop you. “You don’t have to act like kissing me was such a revolting thing for you to do that you’re now relieved it’s over. You really do know how to give a girl a complex.”

“I know how to give a girl a complex? You’re laughing after you kissed me. What about that doesn’t give a girl a complex?”

She nodded, sticking her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. “True. I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you.”

You arched a brow over at her.

“Scout’s honor.” She stuck two fingers up in a gesture that you were pretty sure they didn’t use in the Scouts but you kept that observation to yourself. 

“Then what were you laughing at?”

She looked uncomfortable then and you had to wonder if she had been telling you the truth just now. “That Bevin was right. …And not.”

“Right about what?”

She bit at her lip. “Okay, here’s the thing. I don’t know you just like you don’t know me. So if I tell you this, you can’t tell anyone at all. Even if they’re not from Tree Hill. Like ever. Got it?”

So, she also had a secret that she didn’t want getting out. You could understand that. You held up your fingers in the actual Scout’s honor sign. “Got it.”

Rachel looked uncomfortable again but her discomfort also seemed to be tainted by a little sadness. “I was telling Bevin that I never really feel anything with the guys I sleep with.” Ah, you knew where this was going. “I mean, I got this new body and everything but it didn’t change anything. Except for how they looked at me.” She bit at her bottom lip again which you were starting to see may be a nervous gesture on her part. “So, Bevin said she always wondered what it would be like to be a guy, checking out chicks. And I said that might be my problem, maybe I was into girls.”

You kept your face carefully neutral but inside you were half-shocked, and half-not so shocked. 

“She kissed me on the spot which totally took me by surprise, and asked if I felt anything. I told her I didn’t because I really didn’t. She said if I was into girls then I would’ve felt something because she’s a great kisser and I’d be into her.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that one. Maybe Bevin was a great kisser like she boasted but that wasn’t exactly how it worked. You would know.

“And you weren’t?”

“No,” she snapped. “I like Bevin well enough but no. The class ended and that was it. But then it got me thinking.”

“Ah. You thought you’d go to one of the girls rumored to be gay in this school and ask her to kiss you, you know just to make sure.”

“Well, not to put too fine a point on it but yeah.”

You snorted. “Well?”

“Well?”

“Did you feel anything?”

She looked uncertain for a moment so you figured the answer would be no. But then she surprisingly took a step closer to you, giving you a hint of a smile that was absent of her usual cockiness. “Yeah, actually.”

“So according to Bevin’s vast array of knowledge in these matters, you must be into girls then. Mazel Tov. I’ll see you around, Rachel.” You turned to leave, eager to put this whole thing behind you, when she gently grabbed your arm. 

You sighed and turned back. “I did what you asked. I don’t get why—”

Rachel leaned in, kissing you again. 

When she broke away, your brows drew together. “Uh…?”

“Did you feel anything?”

Hell yeah, you did. You felt that down to your toes. But you weren’t about to tell her that. “I, um… It’s really hard to tell. I might need further exploration on the subject.”

She let you go and gave you a look. “Really?”

“Yep. As a matter of fact, I’m going to go find another cheerleader and shove her into a bathroom to make out with her so I can find out. Great idea, Rach. Thanks. Later.” You went to leave when she grabbed you again.

Smiling at you, she pulled you closer. “Shut up.” She kissed you then and you couldn’t help but kiss her back.

You glanced up when you heard the bell ring again, signaling you needed to get to your next class. You groaned and it wasn’t because Rachel’s lips were attached to your neck. You both were currently in a stall with her in your lap (because she refused to get her clothes dirty sitting on a gross toilet seat though she was slightly taller than you with the heels she was sporting, which made positioning awkward at times) and you literally had been making out now for most of the period. 

“I need to get to my next class.”

“Skip it,” she breathed before kissing you again.

“I can’t skip it,” you panted. “I already missed one class while you’re having your gay awakening.” 

She pulled back, scowling at you. “I’m not gay.”

You inclined your head at her sitting in your lap. 

She shoved her hair behind her ear. “That doesn’t mean I’m gay. I’m just…trying new things.” She gave you a bright smile. “Besides, if I was gay, don’t you think I would have enjoyed kissing Bevin?”

“Yeah, that’s not how that works.”

“And you would know.”

“Says the girl who’s currently sitting on my lap and has been trying to convince me to meet her at her house later so she can get me into bed.”

She wrapped her arms around her neck. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Brooke won’t be there if that’s what you’re worried about. She has a date tonight. And I need to find out if those rumors are true.” She leaned in to place a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I hate those rumors,” you muttered.

“Why? They’re not true?”

“What do you think?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Good point. So is it or is it not true that you and Donna DiLorenzo went all the way in the eighth grade at summer camp?”

You couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Summer camp? How cliche.”

“So they’re not true then?”

You shook your head. “No. Donna and I were just friends. And I never went to summer camp.”

She shrugged. “Fair enough. But obviously, the other part of the rumor is true.” She smirked and ran a finger along your jaw.

“That I’m a raging lesbian who’s always on the prowl for girls? No. Sorry to disappoint but your friend Brooke made all of that up.”

She didn’t say anything to that. How could she? “But if you’re making out with me, then—”

“I like both guys and girls. That’s the real truth. Which goes without saying, is to be kept secret along with this whole little makeout session and what you told me earlier. It all goes into the vault, for life. Got it?”

She nodded, that cocky smirk making a reappearance. “So I really can’t convince you to come by tonight once Brooke leaves?”

You heard the bell again and you let out a huge groan. “That’s two classes now.”

“You have me on your lap, asking you to come to my house later so we can continue this, and you’re worried about class?” She actually seemed insulted.

“Yes. Because I don’t need the absences which will turn into zeros when they realize I’m cutting.”

Rachel studied you for a moment and flicked her hair back, holding onto you. “Well, since you don’t have to rush off now. Care to feel me up?”

You arched your brows in disbelief, silently asking if she was serious, to which she only smiled wider. “I hate you,” you muttered.

“You certainly have a weird way of showing that.” She ground into you and interlocked her fingers at the back of your neck, grinning. “Come on. You know you want to. They’re a hell of a lot bigger than Donna DiLorenzo’s,” she teased.

“Like I said, I hate you, and I wouldn’t know.”

“You’ve had your hands on my ass for the last half hour. While I’m flattered, don’t you want to feel what my other attributes feel like?”

“You mean holding onto your ass to keep you from falling? You’re welcome.”

“Come on.” She reached down and began to lower the straps of her tank top, her jacket having been hung up on the back of the door long ago. 

You stopped her. “If I agree to drop by your house later, can we stop this ridiculous conversation in its tracks?”

She shrugged, moving her straps back into place. “I wouldn’t call it ridiculous but sure. Brooke’s date is picking her up around 8:00. Why don’t you swing by around 8:30?”

Your jaw tightened. “If this turns out to be some elaborate prank with cameras and people popping out and Brooke, I swear, I will go nuclear on your secrets. The vault won’t be able to withstand the heat of that explosion.”

“You are so incredibly paranoid but got it, loud and clear. For the record, I wasn’t inviting you over as a prank. I’m not Brooke,” she finished in a whisper. She then cleared her throat. “As it turns out, I am inviting you over to watch a movie.”

“Awww. You’re going to show me your Girls Gone Wild collection? How sweet.” 

She swatted your shoulder. “Shut up. I’m talking about that movie The Grudge. Have you seen it?”

You shook your head. “Didn’t really want to if I’m honest.”

Her smile grew. “Perfect.” She leaned in and kissed you, chuckling into your mouth when she moved your hands from her ass to her breasts. 

You squeezed them for good measure and muttered to her lips, “There. Very nice. Happy now?”

“Not yet.” She launched herself at you, kissing you deeply. You barely heard someone knocking on the bathroom door for the fourth time since this whole thing started, and you had stopped counting the seconds in your head long ago. Rachel Gatina was making out with you and she was inviting you over to her house later to “watch a movie”. There was no way in hell you were passing that up or paying attention to anything else (even if you had been dying to see The Grudge since you missed it while it was in theaters). You had missed two classes for Rachel’s experiment, after all.

That made you pull back for a moment. “I can’t miss another class, though.”

She nodded, panting. “You agreed to come over later so, yeah. I got it. But you still have forty five minutes.” She gave you that wicked smirk again before moving back in.

You moved your hands back to her ass and she moaned into your mouth though you could feel the smirk against your lips right before. You didn’t know Bevin Prince very well but damn if you weren’t going to send her some kind of gift basket as a thank you.

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[alovesongtheywrote]

hiii girlie!! it’s my birthday HAHA can i please get a nightmare academia part?? thank youuu 🫶

♥ Summary: SORRY I MISSED YOUR BIRTHDAY!! iirc, i got this like. right in the middle of finals season. i am so sorry :( to compensate, i have provided a holiday update!! In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, it's the holiday season and Reid pulls a lil prank.

♥ Warnings: holidays, Wham's Last Christmas

♥ A/N: this is really just a holiday blurb im ngl. happy holiday special ig!! (also. i didn't edit this. my bad lol)

♥ Word Count: 600

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♥♥♥

The winter seasons were always an interesting time to be a professor.  The campus was decorated with trees and lights.  Fliers advertised Hanukkah and Christmas gatherings.  The students were so stressed and burnt out that they moved through life with a weird sort of festive calm. 

This year, that festive calm had taken on a new feature- your students wouldn’t stop playing Wham’s Last Christmas.  

You had nothing against the song.  All things considered, you liked Wham.  You liked Last Christmas.  It just got a touch annoying when the song played on a constant loop through various shitty phone speakers.  All the time.  Every day.

You weren’t sure what caused it- what earthly force could convince a bunch of college kids to listen to that infernal song so frequently?  What could get them to set Last Christmas to their ringtones?  You were pretty sure most of them hadn’t used ringtones before December.  To put it bluntly- you were confused, tired, and suspicious.  You were also ready to scream.

So you did!

“Holy shit, if I have to hear that fucking song again, I might literally explode.”

Reid looked up at you as you burst into your shared office.  His eyes were wide, as if your pre-loaded rant about Wham’s Last Christmas had caught him off guard.  

If it had, that was honestly on him.  You were only about a week into December, and you had already complained about the thing seventy-six times and counting.  If Spencer didn’t remember that, then his special boy memory powers had clearly failed him.

“Well, you wouldn’t literally explode,” Reid corrected, clearly recovered from his shock, “That’s a common mistake.  You would actually-”

“Reid, stop it before I feed you to the ghost of George Michael.”

He held up his hands in surrender, though a smile played across his lips.  You glared at that little grin as vines of suspicion tangled with the fleshy meat of your brain.

“Did you have something to do with this?”

“Whatever do you mean, Doctor?”

“I mean,” you slammed your hands down on Reid’s desk, “Are you the reason I cannot escape that fucking song?”

He leaned back in his chair, weaving his long, slender fingers together like some fucking anime villain, “And how would I pull that off?”

“Easily.  You’re you, and it’s the perfect crime.  All it would take is the promise of extra credit, and your students would do anything.  You think I haven’t noticed that the student body suddenly loves playing Wham?  Out loud?  Without headphones?”

Spencer’s grin got bigger, “Wow.  I’m sorry that your students have been using technology in a distracting and upsetting manner.  I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

“Spencer Reid, I am going to kill you.  I’m gonna choke you out with Christmas lights.  Seriously.”

He leaned in, “Are you literally going to kill me?”

“Fuck you, Reid.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

You snorted out a laugh, “You wouldn’t survive me, pretty boy.  Now, have you seen the essays my cybercrime class wrote?  They were on my desk.”

“Here-” he said, reaching for one of the desk’s many drawers.  That ended the conversation as the topic drifted to your students and the general category of crime that involved techy-whecy bullshit.  

In the weeks that followed, the volume on Spencer’s prank was turned down.  The students played it less and less, and the campus generally hummed with other holiday themed music until the break hit.  The day after it did, a package arrived on your doorstep.

A lovely vinyl copy of Wham’s Last Christmas.  

You were gonna kill Spencer Reid.

♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie, @iiheartbowie, @digitalhearts, @corpsebridenightamare, @ghostatrixx, @reiding-writing, @mywellspringoflife, @80katie, @ms-ks-world, @currentfications, @ilse235, @emagen, @foolishwaitersblog if you asked to be tagged and i forgot, pls let me know!! if you would like to be tagged and aren't, also let me know :D