#one top comment reads: why do you say you don’t mind if people think you’re her dad when you clearly want to be in a relationship with her?

[vaperarmand]

AITA for getting angry because I wrongly guessed the identity of my companion’s boyfriend?

I (2000-ishM-ish) have been traveling with my companion (28F) for ages now. We’ll call her Claire. She’s been there for me through some big changes in my life, and I’ve improved her life a lot. We used to have a sort of thing, but I was married at the time, and now I think I’m too old for her. Anyway, onto the story.

Claire started dating her boyfriend (29M) at some point. I honestly don’t remember when and honestly can’t be bothered to. His name is Dave. He works at the same school as Claire does. I recently took on a temporary job at their school as a caretaker. I met several of the teachers there, including a very handsome young man who likes literature (Claire loves literature) and reminds me a great deal of my younger self. I didn’t know anything about the man Claire was seeing, so I assumed it was this man. It would make sense, I think, considering our past feelings for each other. As it turns out, however, this man is not Claire’s boyfriend, but instead she’s dating a former soldier who now teaches P.E. at the school!

I hate soldiers, and Claire knows this. I thought she hated soldiers, too. She told me so herself. She was very clearly lying to me all this time about this fact, and she was lying to him about me, too, presumably so we would never meet and I would never find out the truth. For a while, Dave believed I was Claire’s father, which I don’t mind, but she didn’t say anything to correct him. Dave mockingly saluted me and called me “sir,” and claimed I’m an officer. He implied very heavily that I’m dangerous to be around, which is complete nonsense, because I’m always saving Claire from dangerous situations. She never says no to traveling with me, even once leaving in the middle of dinner with Dave to go on a trip. I shouted at Dave for his blatant disrespect, but now Claire is upset with me for making things difficult between her and Dave — he’s angry with her for lying to him about how she was spending her time the past however long of their relationship. I don’t regret shouting at Dave, though. I really hate soldiers, and he’s no better than any of them.

I don’t know. It would be different if Claire was dating this lovely bowtie-wearing gentleman, who really looks so much like a younger me it’s uncanny, but you would think she wouldn’t date a soldier when she knows just how much I hate them?

EDIT: Many incessant commenters were asking, so I’ll clarify. Yes, I was a soldier centuries ago. Yes, I watched thousands of people die, and I believed for several centuries that I was responsible for the death of the entire planet. I don’t like to talk about it.

[babysukiii]

regina’s puppy (2)

// regina has a soft spot for you, but when she refuses to accept why, someone else might swoop in and take your attention away from her. //

warnings: mean!regina (not to reader), slightly jealous!regina, oblivious!reader, mutual pining, annoying boys, regina being soft for reader, talks of sexuality

(this is part 2 to the series, read part 1 here)

when you walked into the cafeteria the next day, you were already fed up with the way people were acting today. ever since you got to school this morning, you were receiving various stares and hushed whispers. it caused an ugly feeling of insecurity to follow you around all morning until lunch. your eyes scan the cafeteria for the blonde, and you see her standing in line. your eyes brighten at the sight of her, and you begin to make your way to her.

“hey gina.” you greet her happily. as soon as she hears your eager voice, her eyes tear away from the person she was talking to, just to look at you. you’re wearing a baby pink long sleeved fitted top, and a pair of dark denim high waisted bellbottoms that regina exclusively picked out for you. her eyes trail up and down your body, before her lips tug into a smirk. you look so different than your usual shy, covered up self. regina’s always thought you were pretty. it was adorable how you could wear baggy jeans and oversized sweaters, along with worn out shoes, and you’d still look cute. but right now, regina thought you were—

“you look so hot.” she blurts out, and one of the jocks that’s standing nearby chimes in.

“hey, y/n, did you do something different with your hair?” he asks from a few feet away, and regina refrains from telling the blockhead to go fuck himself, but she’s curious to see how you’re going to react to the newly found attention. “yeah, i tried a new serum called, “fuck off”.” you snap, frustrated with the unwanted attention you’ve been receiving today. regina’s lips twitch and she can’t hold back the maniacal grin plastering itself onto her face. your eyes widen in regret/horror before you clasp a hand over your mouth. you get this adorably sheepish expression on your face that you flash regina; “i’m sorry, that was so mean. but you’d think i’d have a sign on my head that said “bother me” with how much people have been talking to me today.” you retort, sounding agitated.

“get used to it, y/n. they didn’t realize underneath all those hoodies, there was a girl.” she states, as she takes a tray of food, and waits for you to get yours. you snort at her comment, “that’s exactly why i wore them. they’re like an invisibility cloak.” your statement makes her genuinely laugh, and the sound never ceases to make your stomach flip. you don’t even mind the way people are whispering as they glance in your direction.

you sit right beside regina; trying to ignore the nerves bubbling in your belly. when gretchen and karen approach the table, the brunette eyes you uncertainly. “um… why are you here?” gretchen asks, and you open your mouth to respond, but regina is speaking for you. “y/n is sitting with us from now on.” regina says curtly, her tone stringent and up for no debates. “what!? but she— she didn’t take any of the tests! she doesn’t know any of the rules!! she barely has a social status!” gretchen nearly squeals, while karen offers you a smile. “i really like your top! i saw that at hollister! can i borrow it some time?” the raven haired girl asks, ignoring her best friends freak out.

regina glowers at gretchen, “you were barely anything before me, so you have no say in anything that goes on at this table.” she hisses, causing gretchen to snap her mouth shut. regina’s mood switches quickly, a content smile etching onto her face, “now that that’s settled, karen, why don’t you fill y/n in on our rules.” the blonde requests, and karen nods obediently. “rules?” you inquire carefully, and karen nods again. “yup! we have rules we have to follow in order to sit here. rule number one, don’t wear tank tops two days in a row...” she starts, and you nod as you begin to listen to the strange yet, iconic rules.

you nod along, mentally taking down each one. once karen is finished, your gaze flickers towards regina. “so for the tank top rule, do i have to wear a tank top at least once a week, or is that optional?” you ask, genuinely curious. regina lets out this uncontainable giggle that gretchen and karen had never heard from the blonde. “you don’t have to wear a tank top at all silly, but if you do, don’t wear one two days in a row.” she informs you, and you nod. “what are the tests i have to take to sit here?” you question, remembering what gretchen said earlier. regina shakes her head, “those won’t be necessary. you’ve proven your worth to me already.” she says simply, as she takes a sip of her energy drink.

gretchen gawks at the blonde; her mouth agape. she couldn’t figure out for the life of her, why regina was letting you of all people get away with this. “try this, it’s peach.” the queen bee waves her drink at you, and you take it, sipping a bit. your nose scrunches up in disgust, “ew.” you murmur, and she flashes you a pointed look before snatching the drink back. “what is that?” you question, and she flashes the can at you. “peach-nectarine redbull.” she responds, and you make a face of dissatisfaction.

“what? they’re good! aren’t they, karen?” regina asks, gesturing to the blueberry redbull beside karen’s tray of food. karen nods in agreement, “yup, regina’s fridge is full of them.” the raven haired girl chimes in, and you offer the blonde a look of dismay, “those things are heart attacks in a can, gina.” you scold her. “you shouldn’t drink them so much.” you add, and regina rolls her eyes dismissively, but her heart leaps due to your obvious concern for her wellbeing. “i don’t think i’m gonna have to worry about a heart attack till i’m like forty, y/n, relax. i need these to get through the day.” she says, and you frown.

when the bell rings, you and regina leave the cafeteria together. before you can walk away towards your next class, regina wraps a firm hand around your wrist. “did stacy agree to let you be part of the team?” she asks, and you nod. “yeah, she talked to me this morning. but i don’t think i wanna be a part of her club anymore.” you admit, and regina glowers, “why not? i swear to god if she said something else—“ regina nearly growls, but you cut her off before she can threaten stacy’s life again. “no! don’t worry, gina she didn’t say anything bad.” you promise her, causing her to search your face for any signs of dishonesty.

you don’t tell regina the only reason you no longer have an interest in debate club, is because you’d rather hang out with her after school instead. she shoots you that infamous grin that causes the butterflies in your stomach to repopulate rapidly. “well, i guess that means you can hang out with us after school now. we’re going to karen’s house today, so meet me at my locker after your last class.” regina’s request is more like a command, but you aren’t complaining.

you nod dumbly, as she walks away from you, and your eyes are glued on her the entire time. regina looks over her shoulder, catching your entranced gaze on her. it causes a fire to ignite in the pit of her stomach. she turns away, turning down the hallway and disappearing. your cheeks feel as though they’re burning, and the bell rings, indicating that you’re late for class. you shake your head, trying to push away your regina-induced thoughts before you rush to class.

throughout the rest of the school day, more boys try to talk to you. you’ve never really came out or thought twice about your sexuality; you’ve always known you were into girls. you thought it was pretty obvious, but now you were wondering if it wasn’t. “hey y/n!” micheal, one of the boys in your last period catches up to you as you walk towards the exit of the school. your step falters slightly, as he approaches you, holding the exit doors open for you.

“i was just wondering if you had any plans right now?” he asks you, flashing you a shy smile. you stop walking, feeling a bit bad as you get ready to reject him, but he continues rambling. “cause there’s this cool burger place that—” he gets cut off by that familiar voice that causes a wave of heat to surge through you. “come on y/n!” regina causes you to turn your head, there’s aways that stupid little flutter in her stomach whenever she see you. though it turns into boiling hot rage when she sees the way that boy is eyeing you shamelessly. you flash her a smile before turning back to micheal, “sorry, micheal, i have plans with regina today.” you tell him, and his face falls. he looks visibly disappointed. “oh, for sure! have fun! maybe we can hang out tomorrow?” he sounds hopeful, and you open your mouth to reject his offer again, but this time regina is intervening.

“she’s not going to be available tomorrow because she’ll be hanging out with me. again. and same answer for the day after tomorrow.” regina’s voice is harsh, and enough to make a grown man cower away. micheal looks ostensibly upset, but everyone knows better than to talk back to regina george. “come on, regina, i was just trying to ask her out—” he tries, but she cuts him off. “well don’t.” she hisses, shooting daggers at him with her eyes. “look at her, and look at you. you’re like an off brand tony hawk. y/n wouldn’t go for you even if you were the last person on earth.” she cruelly says with a sneer.

“now, come on, y/n. karen’s mom always makes the best lemon squares. you’re gonna love them.” she places her hands on your upper arms; fingernails digging into the fabric of your shirt. her grip is firm but not enough to hurt. she leads you away from micheal, and you feel a surge of guilt, but also an unknown heat pooling at the bottom of your abdomen from how upset regina was about micheal. her grip on you tightens, “ugh, he seriously thought he had a chance with you. you can do better than some lame guy on the soccer team.” she rants, as she leads you towards her jeep where karen and gretchen are waiting.

“he’s in my english class. he’s always sat next to me.” you confess, and regina stops in her tracks, taking her hands off you, causing you to stop as well. you look at regina, who has her arms crossed, “well, starting tomorrow you aren’t sitting by him anymore.” she states, her tone signifying that she’s up for no disagreements. “unless you like him.” she adds, sounding borderline unrecognizable. you scoff, “you think i’d like him? i’m actually kind of insulted you think he’s my type.” you respond, and regina feels a strange sensation of relief. she doesn’t understand why the thought of you dating some sleazy guy around here made her blood boil.

regina offers you a satisfied smile, as if she wasn’t just upset a second ago. her shift in emotions is a bit concerning, but you think it’s adorable how bratty she can be, and then content not even a moment later. but maybe you were biased when it comes to regina george, because you thought everything about her was absolutely adorable. “good. then it’s settled, you’re not sitting next to him, or talking to him anymore.” she declares, and you nod obediently. “okay, gina.” your voice is so innocent and light; you don’t sound the slightest bit upset or reluctant to do as she says. she revels in it.

“good girl. come on, lets go. the girls are waiting for us.” her pleased tone sends this thrill of excitement to course throughout you. those words; “good girl”, they caused your tummy to flutter so much it felt as though it was going to burst. you were a blushing mess as regina pulls you to her car. she notices how flushed your cheeks are, and she smirks. “y/n gets shotgun.” regina says bluntly, and gretchen’s eyes widen in bewilderment. “why does she get shotgun!?” she shrieks, and regina scowls, “because it’s my car, and i said so.” the blonde snaps in response, causing gretchen to pout.

you all get into the car, and just like yesterday, regina hands you her phone. “pick a song.” she orders, and you immediately oblige. gretchen’s jaw drops in offense, “you’re letting her aux!? you never let any of us aux!” she points out, as the queen bee pulls out of the parking lot. “y/n’s taste in music is better than yours.” regina deadpans, as you put on a faye webster song. “i love this song.” karen chimes in, and gretchen huffs. “everyone loves faye webster, karen!” the brunette snaps.

karen’s house isn’t as big as regina’s house, but that isn’t shocking. you think regina might have the biggest house in town, and you aren’t even sure what her father does for work. regina was right about karen’s mother making the best lemon squares though. you shamelessly eat three, and regina is enamored as you make endless conversation with karen’s mom. the older woman finds you just as charming as most of the teachers at school do. regina wonders if they notice how sweet your smile is, or how bright your eyes shine when you talk about something you enjoy.

regina notices everything about you. the way the blood rises to your cheeks whenever she compliments you, or remembers a small detail about you. whenever your hair falls below your shoulders in thoughtless curls; she finds herself thinking about how long it takes you to curl your hair in the mornings. sometimes it’s in a ponytail, or carelessly undone. regina often wonders how someone can look so effortlessly good all the time.

she drops gretchen off at home first in order to spend some time alone with you; she tries not to dwell on why. as soon as the brunette is out of the car, regina’s tough facade is crumbling away. “did you see karen’s dads hair? it’s a toupee.” she reveals, causing your eyes to widen as you burst into a fit of giggles. regina swears her heart nearly stops beating at the marvelous sound. “seriously!?” you ask, clearly shocked, she nods, letting out a few stray laughs. “yeah, one time karen dropped it in the toilet. he grounded her for like two weeks.” she tells you, eliciting even more giggles from you. “poor mr. shetty. he seems so nice. it’s not his fault he’s bald.” you comment earnestly.

regina’s heart swells at how adorable you are, and how you look sitting in the passenger side of her car. she gets so lost in her thoughts about you, that she doesn’t even realize the lights turned green. a loud car horn pulls her out of her ongoing thoughts, causing her to scowl and beep back. “fuck you, bitch, just go around!” regina yells, as she rolls down her window to flip off the old man behind her. you gasp, but can’t seem to contain your uncontrollable laughter.

“you’re so funny, gina.” you breathe out, looking over at her with this expression of adoration, thankfully her eyes are on the road. “i’m so glad that my anger issues amuse you.” she murmurs sardonically, and you release a little chortle. “it’s not my fault you look so cute when you’re angry.” you blurt out, and your entire face changes into a shocked expression as you realize what you just said. regina glances at you, noticing your sheepish expression. she smirks mischievously, “you think i’m cute?” she asks, feigning obliviousness.

you look over at her with a face that says “are you serious?”, and you snort. “you know you’re cute! i mean, you’re regina george. you’re everything.” you say this so easily, it causes her whole world to stop spinning for a while as her inside turn to mush. you don’t even realize the words you say have such an impact on her. the blood rushes to her cheeks, and your eyes nearly widen as regina blushes because of you. “i’ve been called a lot of things before but never “everything”.” she tries to sound nonchalant, and taunting like she always does, but her voice comes out abnormally soft. she doesn’t even recognize herself.

when she turns to get a quick look at you, she sees you’re already staring at her. your eyes hold such a look of admiration as you gaze at her. “i’m just being honest.” you respond, looking away shyly. regina’s heart is in her throat, as if it’s trying crawl its way out of her and into your lap. she tries to focus on driving, but she can’t stop stealing glances at you.

“earlier when you said micheal wasn’t your type, were you just saying that, or were you being honest?” she asks randomly, breaking the short silence. you furrow your brows, “why would i lie about something dumb like that?” you ask in response, and regina shrugs. “so i would shut up about it.” she suggests, and you frown. “i never want you to shut up though. i like hearing you, even when you’re mad.” you reveal truthfully, making her heartbeat stutter. “but i was being serious about micheal not being my type. no guy really is…” you trail off sheepishly.

there’s a sense of satisfaction that comes with knowing regina’s suspicions were correct. you’re into girls, and regina knows you’re into her. she can feel it, and your behavior proves it. “good.” the blonde says, sounding more than pleased as she turns into your neighborhood. regina was right about you; she was definitely going to be able to have as much fun with you as she thought.

a/n: @kate03-27 hope you enjoy!

also, comment if you wanna be tagged in the next part :) thanks for reading <3

[brailsthesmolgurl]

“I feel like I am getting fatter.”

My dear readers, I had decided to include prompts in my works as I thought this might cater to the readers of mine who prefers a shorter read. All of my prompts are my ideas (feel free to drop me any if you do have any in mind) and they will be based on my opinion of the boys :> I apologise if my writing may be offensive to some people but this is my take hence it would be nice if you could be more open-minded :,)

P.S: This fictional write is not meant to be a skinny-shaming/fat-shaming piece because I strongly believe no matter what size you are, you deserve to be loved by all! Personality triumphs over looks afterall!

Preview: An insight into what the boys think when you tell them that you feel like you’re getting plumper.

RAFAYEL

He just stares at you wildly; eyes widened, eyebrows raised to form arches, jaw opened slightly in a state of disbelief at what he had just heard coming out of your mouth. “How could you say such things to yourself?” He palmed his own face, shaking his head in suit. “You coming up to me and putting yourself down just because you think you’re chubby is ridiculous.” When he noticed that you did not say anything to rebut him, he walked closer to you, tilting your chin upwards so you may gaze into his orbs of nebulas. “You are not chubby in my eyes my love.”

“But, I just don’t like the way I look in the mirror Rafayel…” Your confidence had always been in a dip when it comes to your own body image. It especially affected you when recently, news regarding your relationship had taken a turn for criticism towards your body. You wanted to look compatible to your lover and you figured the best you could match him is if you own the body and curves of a runway model. “And, maybe, I just thought I might look better beside you if I am well…skinnier maybe?”

The man erupted a laughter, a genuine laughter of amusement when you told him that last bit of your concern. Rafayel is never the type to prey on one’s insecurity but when your determination to lose weight is based off of on pleasing his fans, he could not care less. “No my love, you do not have to lose weight just because some simpleton made some comments about your body. Come, let’s have a seat okay?” He tugged onto your wrist gently and then sat the both of you down onto the plush sofa of his. Plopping his head against the headrest, he turned his face to look at you. “Do you know back in the days, artists from ancient times prefer drawing women of flesh rather than bones?”

Seeing you hesitated to answer him, he continued on. “That is because bones equal to famine, flesh equals to well-fed my love. It is a sign of royalty. And you, I see nothing but a woman of royalty even if you do not see it yourself. The world nowadays are falling back on appreciating women with healthy bodies and I will always be here to assure you that in my eyes, you are not chubby. As you are to me, a sign of royalty which dates back to the ancient times and even till this day and age.”

Rafayel has always have a way with his words. That is the reason why you fell for him. At first, you may think satire is a part of his image, but eventually, you realised that this man spits euphemisms, and that his mockery never falls short of facts. He is very knowledgeable of the world and the way things work. “But if you still do want to lose weight, I shall do it with you as much as I hate working out. But no harm in keeping my princess fit as a fiddle if she wishes for me to join.” He blushes, eyes glanced away from yours for a moment when his mind flashed an image of you being all hot and bothered after a workout session.

“Thank you for saying that Rafayel. It really helps in calming down my nerves.” You smiled back at him, leaning your head against his shoulders and he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“By the way, just so you know, I prefer drawing you in this ‘chubby’ state—as you would call it—because I think the curves of your body catches the sunlight beams very well and it makes you look ethereal.” Rafayel grins cheekily, fingers trailed against your jawline gently as he studied your features and allowing his imagination to run wild, already planning on his next piece of artwork featuring you, his one and only muse. This time, he shall also make it his statement piece to the haters that his love for you shall not run amok and perhaps, suggest a change in the world’s definition of beauty with his artwork.

XAVIER

“So, did anyone suggested that to you?” Xavier looked up from his plate, swallowing the piece of meat after he had finished asking his question. He had noticed recently when the both of you were on dates, you had been avoiding snacks and junk foods that you would never have resist before and that was when he decided to butt in to ask if you were on a diet and when you admitted it, the conversation was led up to this point. “Or, was it in your own head?”

“I realised it when we were doing the fitness assessment before the hunter’s task that day.” You explained, the fork pushing the pea on your plate, watching it rolled around in circles. During the assessment, everyone is required to get on the scale for a routine check and update for one’s personal records file. You remembered your confidence had started to plummet bit by bit when you noticed all the female hunters are averagely weighed below normal BMI weight.

Although no one was laughing at you as the scale announced your weight but you could almost taste the hint of embarrassment at the back of your throat as you stared at the numbers shown on the scale. You figured, a good hunter should not be overweight right? Or else how does one, being overweight, excel in physical tasks? Hence, you had decided to be harsh on yourself to lose weight for the sake of excelling in physical tasks and to fit in amongst your peers. “I am one of the few ones that probably exceeded the normal weight requirement for a hunter.”

“But you are still one of the best hunters among our division right?” Xavier was quick to catch up on one of your worries for being too overweight to complete physical tasks. “You should not worry much about your weight if you are actually pulling the weight of being a good hunter. Pun intended.” His pun made you pressed your lips tightly to form a thin line. It was funny but it was said at the wrong time.

“Then do you think I am chubby?” You raised an eyebrow and the blond man in front of you let go of his piece of meat and you watch the slice of meat slipped right into the bowl of spicy soup. This conversation is getting serious now if he is willing to overcook that piece of meat just to engage in this conversation.

“I never thought you were chubby. Other girls are just too skinny to my liking.” He placed his chopsticks aside and stared right at your face, cerulean orbs burning with underlying annoyance because of what you had said about yourself. “And I don’t think your weight affects your hunter skills as they are both separate entities by itself.” Humming to himself, his hand rubbed the base of his chin as he thought of what else to say to boost your confidence. “Speaking of which, skinnier girls do tend to end up meeting their demise faster than girls like your size.”

“What do you mean by that?” You watched as the man picks up the chopsticks and starts digging around the soup base for his missing piece of meat that is probably overcooked to his taste.

He shrugged casually. “They just look all the more fragile to me. Most of the ones that got admitted to the hospitals are the skinny ones that tends to get more broken bones and bruises even from fighting the easiest category of wanderers.” He shoved the meat into his mouth almost animation-like and started chewing. His face flashed a hint of disgust as he struggled to swallow the piece of meat down his throat. “My point is, as long as you are healthy and not easily bruised, nobody is going to care about your weight. But if they ever do, I know you can easily prove them wrong.”

Xavier is more of a motivational speaker type of boyfriend. Not because he does not want to comfort you, but he would much rather remind you of the strengths you already have and that you should not get easily discouraged by such a minute issue. Not to mention, although adorning the face of an angel, this boy here does make some pretty sarcastic remarks here and there. “Here, have some more meat, it might help you to lose weight. But it would also help you to gain more muscle which would be more helpful during combat rather than being a bag of bones.”

ZAYNE

“Just because you are sat down and you realised that you had ‘flaps’ does not make you fat y/n.” Zayne laid the tray beside you, taking a seat next to you in the hospital’s cafeteria. After the routine check-up with Zayne, it usually wraps up with you stepping onto the scale and the numbers on the scale are not showing your average weight anymore. Thus, your frown pointed towards the scale gave Zayne just enough of a hint for him to catch up on what was churning in your head. “Y/n?”

“I’m sorry, it just never came to my mind that I had gotten heavier since my last checkups.” You gnawed onto your bottom lip, fingers prancing along the material of your pants. “It does not help either when my colleagues said that I had gotten a bit bloated lately.” Sighing, you hid your face in your palms. “Not to mention, my boyfriend is a doctor, what an irony for you to date someone who isn’t physically healthy right?”

Zayne placed a box of milk in front of you, the one that you would always go for whenever you stop by his workplace. “Y/n, statistically speaking, your weight data is not considered overweight. Nor would it compromise your health in any manner. If it helps, you do not look fat to me.” The doctor glanced over to you, watching you as you only started reading the labels across the box milk instead of ripping it open to drink it like a maniac you always tend to be. “Are you planning to lose weight then?”

“I guess I am planning to. For the sake of my own health and the image of our relationship.” Zayne frowned slightly at your response but of course, being the husband material he is, he would do anything to make you healthy. Even if that means he does not necessarily agree with your standpoint.

“Wanting to be healthy would be a good start, but losing weight for the sake of our relationship’s image is not a good idea. I am glad to have someone healthy by my side.” His voice was comforting, his tone soothing to your ears. “I have another surgery scheduled in 20 minutes so I have to go now, but do not attempt to lose weight without me being around you. Do you think you can at least do me that favour?” He pushed his chair back and stood up, a hand placed on the top of your head in the form of a head pat. “I do not wish to see you jeopardising your own mental health over your weight.”

The doctor leaned down to kiss your forehead before he took the milk and placed it within your palms. His lips turned upwards into a gentle smile. “I will see you after work later.” And he went off, blending into the crowds in the crowded hallways. But it did not took long before your phone rang, and you received a call from a random number.

“Hi is this Miss y/n?” The feminine voice spoke on the other end. You agreed and introduced yourself, asking her what was the purpose of the call. “Dr.Zayne had asked me to set up an appointment with you for 3pm later so that we can go through your nutritional plan later. He told me that you wanted to lose weight don’t you?” You were nearly speechless when she said that. No wonder Zayne rushed off all of a sudden. He did not have a surgery scheduled, he only wanted to make an appointment with an in-house nutritionist to help you in losing weight. Afterall, he is not against the idea of you losing weight but he would much rather you do it in a healthy manner.

Your heart felt fuzzy when you are constantly reminded of the way Zayne would always takes care of you, even if he does not particularly look like he cares. “Yeah, that’s me. May I know what did Dr.Zayne said to you?”

“Not much, he only told me that his spouse is unhappy with her healthy body and that she would like to achieve a slimmer figure…” The girl’s voice trailed off a little, seemingly a little hesitant. “But he also told me to set up a 7 day workout plan for you so that you may get too tired of losing weight and you might just give up on it halfway.” OOF. Guess Zayne is totally fine with the way you look.

[spookysteddie]

That Friday Night

Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader

read part one here

18+ MINORSDNI

cw: alcohol, drugs (weed and cocaine), clubbing, slight Dom!Eddie if you squint, possessive!Eddie, swearing, pet names, oral (fem!receiving), light choking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, edging, creampie. (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 4.3k (I'm so sorry)

a/n: First of all, I want to thank every single person who liked, reblogged or made comments about part one. I was shitting myself posting it because (like I said) this is not an original thought. I'd read a few and it gave me this wave of inspiration. I am very proud of this part. It's also a little long (sorry sorry sorry I couldn't stop) . Also I don't think I'll be doing a tag list? When I used to do that no one on the list would like the fic and it was a lot of work. I hope that is okay? Let me know if you want more! I love and appreciate all of you!

...

You weren’t the type of person who got shy. Your entire job is being in front of a camera, telling people what you like, what you wear, the type of music you listen to. You did brand deals and went on lots of trips with people you didn’t know. Public interaction was easy for you and you definitely enjoyed it. 

But being personally invited to your favorite band's concert (even if you had tickets already) as their frontman's personal guest? It makes you weak in the knees. 

Telling your team about the phone call went about as good as one would expect. Anna and Case frown at you while continuing to say ‘you could’ve let it go to voicemail and we could’ve handled it directly with his people. AND why did you have him send the information directly to you?’

They weren't necessarily wrong in being upset. There were plenty of ways a conversation like that could be twisted and fucked with, especially if, for whatever reason, someone was recording the phone call. It was very easy for them to manipulate and edit that kind of shit, and drama was the last thing you wanted. 

However, the rest of the week went by without an issue. The gossip magazines had moved on to something else (though there were a few who continued to speculate about your non-relationship with Eddie. You did your deals, and kept yourself busy. And by the time Friday rolled around you were hardly nervous. 

Or that’s what you kept telling yourself. 

“Bell bottom star pants. Absolutely,” Hana says from her place on your bathroom counter, practically in the sink. “With that black leather top you love AND the red leather jacket. Oh! Oh! Oh! And the red boots!” 

You put the outfit on, looking in the mirror, “you don’t think it’s too… stereotypical?” 

Hana looks at you through the mirror, “no such thing. You look great.” 

Hana was one of the few people in your life who’d tell you like it is. You could trust her to tell you if her gut feelings were off, or on. She was your best friend and one of the few people who weren’t just here for the exposure. She’s here to be your cheerleader and you were hers. 

“Alright, let's get this going before I change my mind which I am two seconds away from doing.” 

… 

You should’ve changed your mind. 

You can hardly keep from throwing up as you're led by security to a private entrance. To get there you have to pass by their tour buses. All you can hear is loud music and whooping from inside. It’s clear they’re running around in there as the bus is rocking and all you can do is pray they don’t see you. 

You’re far too sober for the interaction you’ll be having at this current time. 

Unfortunately for you, the universe hates you. Just when you think you’re home free, the door opens, almost smacking you in the face. 

“Don’t think you can get away that easy, Asher,” Eddie says as he looks down at you. His pupils are blown wide, clearly from whatever drug he’s consumed. More than likely cocaine and weed. His words aren’t slurred so he isn’t drunk, though he does have a beer bottle in his large hands. 

God his hands, there have been many times where you’d imagine them wrapped around your throat, cutting off air as he fucks you like he hates you. You bet he could reach you even as he’s eating you out, he’s so tall and long. 

You wish you could say the grin you shoot at him is fake, however with the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour and smother you, it's not. You feel like a fucking school girl who has a crush. Your heart pounds so fast in your chest and you swear everyone around you can hear it. 

“We weren’t running away,” you say, voice a little breathier than you’d like. “Um this is my best friend-” 

“Hana, nice to meet you,” he cuts you off. It’s then that you see his eyes get wide and you know he’s been stalking your profile. Not that you can say anything because you’ve done it… a lot. “I, uh, saw the instagram story you put up earlier.” 

Hana smirks, “sure you did, big boy.” She pats his chest and is clearly much braver than you. That’s another thing about you and her, if one of you is feeling not confident, the other makes up for it. Like, on your own, asking for ketchup feels like cutting off a limb, but if she can't do it then it's up to you and vice versa. 

Eddie scratches the back of his neck, his black t-shirt stretching over his wide shoulder, “want to join us? We have alcohol!” 

“We would love that. Wouldn’t we?” Hana looks down at you with her brows raised, still taller than you in heels. 

You nod, “yes. Yeah absolutely! Are we allowed to photograph in here?” 

You know it’s a stupid thing to ask, but you also don’t want to take a photo of you and Hana and then not be able to post it. And what if you get photos with the rest of the band? Everyone already knows you’re going to be here. Just not… in this tour bus. 

Eddie nods, holding out his hand, “you are allowed to do whatever you want, pretty girl. And if anyone has an issue, send them my way, yeah?” He kisses the hand you’ve placed in his before leading you up the stairs of his bus. 

It's chaos in there, pure and utter chaos. You turn to look at Hana, silently telling her how insane this is. She nods slightly, but you see the grin on her face. Hana loves this stuff; the parties, the madness, all of it.

Eddie introduces you to the band, pulling you in closer by the waist. “You all need to be on your best behavior. No one touches her. Do you all understand me?” Your heart flutters at how serious he is and it instantly forces his bandmates eyes to fall to your feet. It’s impressive, actually. 

Suddenly, a bottle of beer is in your hands, passed to you by Eddie. “Oh… thank you.” You can hardly look at him as a small smile forms on your lips. His attention makes you feel all kinds of funny inside, your stomach doing flips. You know you have to look at him eventually, but he’s just so pretty that it actually hurts. 

“Um, so are you excited for your show?” This time you manage to actually drag your eyes to his. He smiles at you, his teeth so beautiful and perfect. It’s when he sits down that you realize that was a stupid question. Of course he’s excited. This is his actual job. 

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at you through his lashes, you could kiss him. But you don’t for obvious reasons. Reasons you can't really think of at the moment. Not when he’s looking at you like that.  The beer bottle hangs in his right hand between his legs. 

“Very. Not much comes close to the feeling I get when we’re on that stage.” He shakes his head, curly hair moving with him, “plus, being able to hear people sing my songs back to me is fucking incredible.” 

His hand finds yours, pulling you a little closer. Eddie is testing the waters, you know this. Unfortunately for you, your brain can’t see through the cloud of lust. So, you let him pull you closer, sit you on his lap, and wrap an arm around you. 

Your brain does catch up, quicker than expected. “It seems like it’d be incredible. I applaud you cause I could never do that. I have stage fright.” 

He blinks up at you, “stage fright? Haven’t you done red carpet interviews and stuff?” 

You shift a little, shrugging, “well yes. But that’s different.” You can't stop the awkward laugh that comes out of you. It was true, it was different. You weren’t exactly sure why but it was. 

Eddie's thumb moves along your side slightly and it leaves goosebumps in its wake. 

“I’m being honest, the lights are so bright that I can’t see everyone in the crowds. Mainly just the front rows. Makes it easier.” 

Eddie puts his beer bottle on the ground by his feet before sitting up and grabbing a joint. He’s quiet as he lights it, puffing out smoke to get it going. “Want some?” 

He holds the joint towards you, waiting for your answer. You’ve done this before at the frat houses at college. You’ve done it here and there in high school as well. This is second nature, but this time you’re nervous. What if you forget how to inhale? What if you throw up? Any number of things can happen. 

Something happens inside you and your brain finally catches up to itself. A small stroke of confidence happens and without taking your eyes off of him, you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the joint and inhaling. His eyes stay locked on yours, his tongue wetting his lips. You pull back, slowly blowing out the smoke. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” It comes out in a whisper and you know he didn’t mean to say it out loud. His eyes falling from your eyes, to your lips and back again. 

God you want to kiss him. His pillowy lips would feel amazing against yours, you just know it. You start to lean into him, desperate to know if you’re right.   

A bang on the door scares the fuck out of the both of you and Eddies boot knocks over his bottle. It’s a good thing he drank most of it, the contents not spilling on the plush carpet. 

“Let’s get going guys. Put your dicks back in your pants, we have a show to do.” You know that voice, that’s their manager. He’s the one who called your people to make sure you had all the rules for this evening. 

Photos are fine. 

Everyone must be tagged. 

Nothing negative. 

Absolutely no photos of any white substances. Even if it’s sugar. 

That last one would be hard considering it was on every flat surface in neat, clean lines. 

You go to stand up, but Eddie stops you, his hand tightening on your hip. “Promise I’ll see ya after?” 

You nod, “y-yeah of course.” 

Before you know it, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft, sweet and you don’t want it to end. In fact, you totally forget about all the other people in the room. Your hands find his face, pulling him closer as his tongue begs for permission. And once you grant it, it’s game over. 

He tastes like beer and weed and cigarettes and you love it. You want more. You want to get closer. 

But it’s not long before the door to his trailer opens up, his manager stepping into the bus. “I said get your dicks and tongues together. We cannot be late.” 

… 

By the time the show is over you barely have a voice, and you’re sure you’ve never been more turned on in your life. It might seem silly to say, but Eddie's kiss lingered the entire show and all you want is more. 

Back stage the band is still running on adrenaline, drinking water for once to try and refuel for the rest of the night. The rest of the night being a club that they frequent. A club you don’t go to because of that exact reason. 

“Ohhhhh! There's the prettiest girls I’ve ever laid eyes on!” Eddie's voice booms as security goes to double check you and Hana. “Hey! Leave them alone. They’re with me.” 

Security stands back, hands raise like he knows it’ll cause more issues if he doesn’t. You almost feel bad for the poor guy, he was just trying to do his job. Like what if you had a bomb or something? 

“C’mon we gotta get outta here.” He laces his fingers with yours before he pulls you along with him. You look over your shoulder, catching Hana's eyes. 

Go! She mouths, hanging off Gareth's arm. I’ll meet you there! 

And so, you go. Are you nervous? Yes absolutely. Are you going to pretend you aren’t and have some confidence? Yes. Fake it till you make it right?

Eddie opens the door to the car, extending a hand, “ladies first.” 

You grin at him as you elegantly slide into the car, “wow. I didn’t know you were such a gentle man.” This time when you giggle, it's cute and self assured. 

“Yes, I have been told my entire life that I look,” he slides in sucking in a soft, thinking breath, “mean and scary.” 

“You look like a doberman but they’re precious babies.” You mean it too. He looks a little mean and scary, especially in the red lights of the stage. Not to mention the “devil music” (says the media) which can get a little dark. But that’s what makes it great, in your opinion. Plus, he does look like doberman. Like he could probably kill you but would actually not? 

“‘Precious babies?’” 

You nod, “mhm! I grew up with them. Very sweet and love kisses. Oh! And they each had their own comfort toys.” 

“Then maybe I am one because I do love kisses.” He’s closer now, his breath fanning over your face. He still smells like beer and cigarettes mixed in with the smell of his cologne. 

It’s your turn to close the gap and planting your lips on his. The kiss is hotter, more intense. One could argue it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your system that makes you so bold. You’re buzzed, but not drunk. It isn’t long before his hands are in your hair, tugging. It makes you moan in his mouth, opening up to him. 

He sits back, his hands in your hair pulling you with him, making you sit in his lap. Your legs rest on either side of his hips, your cunt nestled right against the bulge in his pants. He couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. You test the waters by rocking your hips, the friction being so sweet that you’re the one who lets out a moan. 

“God, that is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. “Should record it and use it in our next song.” 

You hum and grin, “I wouldn’t mind that. Always wanted to be in a song. Can’t sing though.”  

He nips at your ear, “that’s my job baby.” 

Eddie's large hand grips your hips, stopping your movements. You want to whine, you want to protest. You were so fucking close. 

“We’ll save that for when we're back at my place.” 

You grin and kiss along his jaw, “who says I’m going back to your place?” 

“The way you were just grindin’ against my cock, angel.” He grins, “also with how you’re lookin’ at me.” 

“And how am I looking at you? Hmm?” 

“Like you want me to fuck you while your brain leaks out your cunt.” 

You shudder at the crudeness of his words. No one has ever spoken to you like that and looked like him. The car stopping in front of the club saves you from trying to come up with an answer. One you know will either be embarrassing or non-existent. 

He looks over at the paparazzi that is waiting and sighs, “are we going in together or…” 

The decision you make is quick. If you’re going to do this, even for one night, you’re going to do it together and let them talk. You give him a quick kiss, “together. Give ‘em something to talk about, yeah?” 

So, you do. 

The second you’re out of the car, cameras flash and photographers call out a mix of your name and his and you can hardly understand what they’re saying. You don’t stop to pose, letting them only photograph you and him walking hand and hand. Give them crumbs as your manager says. Once you’re in the club, not even needing to show an ID or give a name. 

From there the night happens in a blur. The band has the VIP section where bottles of expensive liquor are brought over by women dressed in a bikini. You know how much all of this costs (more than you can afford that’s for sure) but you also know that all of this is on Eddie and the bands tab. He’s told you six times. 

So you drink. And you smoke. And you watch pretty white lines disappear, most of which disappear up Eddie's nose. Of course you take videos, vlogging your night and making sure to follow all the rules that were set prior to this meeting. Taking photos to remember the night. Hana is having a blast, taking shots like it’s her job and making out with Gareth in between. Of course she takes photos with you, sitting in your lap and giggling so much the photos come out blurry. But those are your favorite kinds of photos. 

“Dance with me?” Eddie says in your ear over the music. 

You take the shot that is in your hands, “lead the way.” 

The second you’re surrounded by sweaty bodies you feel invisible. You’re sure someone has cameras on you and him but at the moment you don’t care. 

Your hips move to the music, back against Eddie's chest while his hands explore your body. His lips move against your neck, sucking a dark mark into it that you know you’ll struggle to cover later. Again, you don’t care. What you do care about is the hardness that you feel against your back. 

You spin around, grinning up at him. God he’s so fucking tall you have to tilt your head up a good bit to look at him. 

“We should get out of here,” you say as he pulls you into him. 

He smirks, “thought you weren’t coming back to my place sweetheart.” 

“Seems I told a fib. Now, I need you to take me home and fuck me like you hate me.” 

It’s all he needs before he’s grabbing you by the hand and pulling you out of the club. The car is there and he quickly pulls you into the back seat. Once those doors are closed, the window tint so dark you couldn’t see inside if you tried, his mouth his on yours. Your stomach flips and the neediness you feel coming off of him. He pulls you till you’re straddling him, legs on either side of his hips. Not really the safest but at this point, all you need is his lips on you. 

The ride to Eddie’s consists of lots of kissing, so much so that you know your lips are swollen. You don’t get to see much of Eddie’s house, too focused on getting inside the house and into his bedroom. He drags you up the stairs, your hand is his. And once you’re in his room, he has you pressed up against his bedroom door. 

“You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Eddie pushes your jacket off your shoulders while he speaks, his words going straight to your clit. Your mind can barely comprehend that Eddie Munson, the man you’ve had a crush on since they were considered an ‘underground band,’ is currently taking off your clothes. 

You do the same to him, pushing his leather jacket to the ground before tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Me? You are so beautiful.” 

He hums, popping the button on your jeans, “should we take a poll on who's prettier? Winner takes the loser on a date?” 

That makes you laugh, “sounds like a deal. But first, you need to fuck me.” 

His eyes nearly go black at that and before you can think, he’s throwing you on this bed. You land with a small oomph. You decide to take a little initiative, pulling off your boots, scooting off your pants and pulling off your top. 

Eddie watches, rapt and almost possessed, his eyes scanning your partially naked body. It’s not anything more than someone would see if you posted in a bathing suit, but you can’t help but feel nervous that he isn’t going to like you. 

He quickly puts those fears (fears he knows nothing about) to rest as he settles between your legs. His eyes don’t leave yours as he kisses up your thighs. You know there is a wet patch on your underwear and you know he can see it. You do feel embarrassed about it, but at the same time, Eddie is slightly rutting against the bed so he must like it. Right? 

You can feel your body heat as he gets closer and closer to your center. 

“Eddie, please don’t tease me.” Never have you begged a man. Typically whoever you were in bed with did the begging, much to your dislike. You were desperate for someone to take charge. Now you know why they didn’t. One bruise and they get shit from all your followers. Even if you tell them to leave these men alone. 

But Eddie? He wasn’t afraid. 

“But it’s so much fun to watch you squirm.” 

You huff, squirming exactly like he said as he sits up to pull your underwear down your legs before setting back between them. “Need you to touch me.” 

He licks a stripe up your slit, sucking on your clit as he gets to the top. The sound that falls from your lips is beautiful, sweeter than the sound you made in the car. Now Eddie really wants to put you in a song, but the jealous, primal side of him never wants someone else to be able to hear your moans. 

In fact, he doesn’t want to think about any of the other men who’ve heard you make these sounds. Murder wasn't really on his list of things he enjoyed. Bar fights? Yes. Murder? No. 

“You make the prettiest sounds, sweetheart. S’very hot.”  He slides two fingers inside you with little resistance, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside you. The stretch feels good, your hips moving on their own, riding Eddie's fingers. 

You're close, the build up of this moment really getting closer than you originally thought. “Squeezin’ my fingers so tight, baby. Are you close?” 

You nod, afraid if you speak you’ll say something ridiculous. 

But that isn’t good enough for Eddie. “Words.” 

“V-very.” 

That was clearly the wrong thing to say because he pulls his fingers from inside you, the emptiness making you gasp, “no! No, no, no I was so close!” 

He laughs as he pushes his pants and boxers off his body. “Exactly. Want you to cum with my cock inside you.” 

You look down between your bodies and your eyes widen. He was big and you accidentally voice what you’re thinking, “fuck… not gonna fit.” 

His laugh drags your eyes back to him, his cock moving through your slick and bumping your clit. “Baby you are so wet that I have no doubt it’ll fit.”  

You don’t have time to be embarrassed about it because Eddie is pushing inside you. The size of him stretching you makes you feel like he’s going to split you in half. But you don’t care, the burn just turns you on more and more and before you know it he’s seated inside you fully. 

“Fuck, Eddie.” 

Eddie is panting, trying to keep still so he doesn’t cum before he wants to. “Feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. A man could become obsessed with this pussy.” 

He moves right as you begin to speak, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. He feels like he’s everywhere. “W-witchcraft” 

He fucks you harder, his cock hitting your cervix. You’re definitely going to have a bruise there but it's so worth it. 

“Didn’t know you were into dark shit. S’my schtick.” 

You wrap your legs around him, orgasm building again, “more alike than you originally thought huh?” 

He wraps a tattooed hand around your throat, squeezing gently and making your head spin, “oh, angel, I knew how alike we were the second you told everyone how bad you wanted to fuck me.” 

“C-can you blame me? Knew you’d fuck me just h-how I like.” 

You clench around him making him hiss, “yeah you need someone who will take control huh?” 

The hand around your neck slides down your body till he finds your clit, circling it. 

“Oh god! Please.” 

“I can get used to you prayin’ to me.” His thrusts are losing rhythm (something he’s usually very good at keeping) and you know he’s close. “Cum baby. I need it.” 

And it’s all you need to fall over the cliff and into bliss. He follows you, coming inside you while you squeeze around him. You both moan each other's names and you sigh as you come down. 

Eddie breaks the silence first, “that was… amazing.” 

You hum in agreement as he slides out of you and curls up beside you. You take a moment before getting up and cleaning up in the bathroom. When you come back Eddie has left out an old Corroded Coffin t-shirt and some boxers. And once they’re on, you slide back into his bed, laying your head on his chest.

“We should put that poll up, huh? I’m itching to win this bet.” Eddie laughs as he says it and before you know it, you two are finding a photo the both of you like and posting it on your story with the caption, ‘which one is prettier? Honesty is the best policy.’ 

“And now… we wait.”

[cyupie]

✦ unsaid, unheard

neito monoma x gn!reader

angst to sort of comfort

word count: 2k

second person pov + purposeful all lowercase + not proof read and written late at night

✦ summary

neito monoma lets himself live in denial about his feelings towards you; it's only until you two actually drift apart that he realizes what he's lost.

you & neito had been friends for longer than you can remember; always aspiring to make it to u.a. together and become the top heroes. you remember the face he made when you both made it in, how he spun you around and treated both of you to some macarons right after. it was the best day of both of your lives.

he was always thoughtful, even if he never really confided in you — you were best friends, though, you always knew how he felt even if he didn’t say it out loud. neito knew you better than you knew yourself and vice versa. his favorite boba place & order, how he scrunches his nose up when he’s focused, and the way his eyes crinkle when he’s really really happy are forever ingrained in your memory.

you don’t know how to tell him you think you’ve fallen in love with him. you don’t think you ever will once you see how he starts to look at itsuka kendo during your second year. it’s a gradual thing — ditching your usual meetups to go see her, taking her to the new mini store that he refused to check out with you last week, the way he smiles at her — it makes your heart ache when you can’t remember the last time he smiled like that with you.

you love neito monoma.

neito monoma loves itsuka kendo.

so, you don’t tell him. you swear that you aren’t going to ruin it for neito and itsuka because they look so happy when they’re together. people grow apart all the time; this is no different from any other friendship. you barely think about him (he’s the only thing on your mind at night) and maybe you’re even doing better off without him (your heart hurts when you see him with her).

it’s been two months since you last spoke when he finally confronts you. you were walking out of class when he drags you to the side with a stern look on his face; neito looks conflicted. he’s not worried, he reassures (you’re the only thing on his mind when everything is quiet and he doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that he still thinks of you instead of itsuka when something good happens).

“i just want to know why you’re avoiding me.” he lies.

“i’m not avoiding you.” you lie back.

both of you see right through each other. neither of you comment on it.

neito thinks he wants to cry, or scream, or shake you — he doesn’t do any of that. he just sighs. “fine,” the blonde huffs as he turns away from you. “i don’t care anyways.” neito hopes you’ll say something about his blatant lie. you stay quiet.

he doesn’t see you for the next few days, he knows you’re avoiding him. neito knows you better than he’ll ever admit. the way you looked at him when he first said he thinks he has a crush on itsuka drove him insane; he tries not to think about it anymore. there’s no point.

when he’s with her, he thinks it’s love — he wants her near him all the time and he likes when she pays attention to him and he wants to do all the things he did with you but with her now. neito ignores the pit in his chest when he realizes how long it’s been since you two have hung out.

neito monoma loves itsuka kendo.

neito monoma doesn’t care about you.

it’s fine. him and itsuka have even gotten together now, this is the happiest he’s ever been. neito swears it on his life that she makes him happier than anyone else can. he sees itsuka’s confusion when he accidentally orders your usual at the boba shop instead of hers; your tastes are so different that it’s hard to believe he could mix them up.

when he offers itsuka his own drink and takes the one you usually get instead, he thinks of you the whole time he’s drinking it. have you been to this place since you two stopped talking? neito stomps the thought away as quickly as it comes.

you seem ok, he thinks (he sees the bags under your eyes). you have new friends who’ll probably treat you better than he ever did growing up (why does it hurt to think that?). neito stops and realizes how much he misses you when he hears your favorite song come on the radio — he remembers listening to you scream along to it anytime you heard it.

he finds you after school, talking to some kid from class 1a (why them? why not him? was he not enough for you anymore?) and he thinks he’s going to cry. neito smirks, instead, and leans against the wall before laughing, “so this is where you’ve been? going behind our class’ back to hang out with these hero wannabes?”

he doesn’t know why he says that.

“oh,” is all you say at first and he wants to apologize over and over again until you stop looking at him like that. why do you look at him like you don’t care anymore? why can’t you look at him like you did before you both came to u.a. — before itsuka? “did you need something?”

neito pauses. no, he didn’t; why was he here?

“just wondering where our little y/n went; haven’t seen them in a hot minute.” he remarked, trying to look as nonchalant as he could. neito internally grimaced at his choice of words.

“you see me in class everyday.” you point out.

“and then you disappear to who knows where.”

“i don’t see a problem.”

“i do.”

“why?”

i don’t know, his thoughts answer. why does he have an issue with it? you two have been drifting apart for a while. it was inevitable, friendships don’t last forever (neito’s heart aches when he thinks of never talking to you again).

“because you’re hanging out with those 1a losers instead of us,” he settles with, ignoring the way his subconscious corrects it to instead of me.

“they’re my friends.” you argue, seemingly defensive over them.

“and i’m not?”

“are you?” your question makes you both share a look. your friend has long gone, unsure of how to deal with this seemingly personal argument between you two. you find the words repeating in your own head. it doesn’t feel like you’re still friends.

so why do you still feel that pit in your chest when you look at him and remember how much you love how pretty his eyes are, or how that one strand of hair never stays where neito wants it to and he has to fix it constantly throughout the day.

you find yourself hoping he says yes.

he walks away, instead.

it hurts more than you’d ever admit; neito doesn’t want you to see how much it hurts that he can’t even call you his friend anymore. neito doesn’t want to admit that it’s his fault, either.

he goes to itsuka for comfort — she’s always been good at that. she strokes his hair softly and is so much softer with him than she’s ever been; why does it make the ache in his heart feel worse? why does he look up at her and expect — hope — to see your face instead?

neito can’t shake the thoughts away this time.

whenever he walks into class, he looks for you first; whenever he’s practicing, he wonders who you’ve been partnered with; whenever he gets a sliver of free time, he thinks what’s y/n doing? it drives him insane. it isn’t until he breaks down to itsuka about it that her response makes him realize anything.

“i think we should break up, neito.” she says calmly. neito thinks his whole world is ending around him.

“what? why?” he finds himself asking. he thought they were doing good, he wanted to talk and communicate; she’s always told him how important it is to communicate. why is this her reaction?

she gives him a pitying look — suddenly, he’s not so upset. irritated would be a better word.

“don’t tell me you don’t see it.”

“see what? why are you being so cryptic?”

“neito, you poor, poor soul.” itsuka sighs and neito finds himself wishing you were there more than he ever has before. you wouldn’t have been so vague with him about whatever this is, you’d have been straight to the point.

and then it clicks.

it clicks how badly he messed up. suddenly, itsuka’s unclear words and her (well-meaning) laughter at his wide eyes makes so much sense. suddenly, he wishes he could take this whole year back. it feels like all the walls he worked so hard to build up are crumbling around him as his feelings jumble and he doesn’t know how to feel anymore.

neito monoma doesn’t know who he loves.

it’s a few weeks later, and the school year has flown by. valentine’s day is coming around the corner and you find yourself wondering how neito is. he loved cheesy things, the stereotypical and the type of things that only happened in stories or tv shows — you wondered how he was going to cope with itsuka having broken up with him so close to valentine’s.

and then there’s a knock on your door at 1am on valentine’s day morning. you shuffle around, not knowing who it is. you don’t really care; your hair is a mess and you’re in your pajamas and just about ready to scold the hell out of whoever’s—

neito.

he has a giant bouquet of your favorite flowers (or at least, the ones that remind him of you the most) and a bag filled with gifts. he’s looking at you expectantly and his face is flushed and you’re not sure what to say or how to feel or why he’s even here in the first place. you two just stare at each other for a minute.

“hi.” neito greets. he looks like he immediately wanted to say anything else and shrink back into a corner never to be seen again after he realizes how awkward this whole thing is.

“hi.” you say back. you’re no better than he is.

he holds out the bouquet of flowers and neito’s holding back a million words in his head as you take them. “i got you stuff,” he blurts out as he gestures to the bag in his hand.

“i can see,” and he looks like he’s just about ready to give up on this whole endeavor. you pause. you’re staring again. neito stares back.

you sigh, opening the door further and gesturing for the other to come in. he doesn’t hesitate as he steps in and moves to the side for you to awkwardly shuffle around him and shut the door. neito sets the bag on the ground and you put the bouquet on its side on your desk.

all you can do is wonder what you’re going to do with them as he starts taking out the gifts.

it’s your favorite snacks and a plushie of your favorite animal — he’s sure it hasn’t changed — and a gift card to that damn boba place. he’s looking at you and waiting for a response and you just stare. neito thinks he’s done something horribly, horribly wrong when you start crying.

“hey, wait- i’m sorry. why are you..” his voice trails off as he looks at you. he never knew how to comfort people, no matter how eloquent he was with his insults and endless rants about 1a. and you’re staring up at him with tear-filled eyes and he feels his heart break for the thousandth time.

all you can manage is, “i thought you hated me.”

and he pauses. he looks at you and you look at him and more gently than you think he’s ever done anything before he brings you into a hug and you’re safe. neito doesn’t say a word; he doesn’t need to. he doesn’t like to be vulnerable, he’s never liked being vulnerable.

but you’re here in his arms and he knows you understand that better than anyone. you’ve always understood. he’s so stupid for having never noticed it — you — before.

neito monoma loves you.

© cyupie   do not plagiarize, translate, feed to ai, or repost my works to any other websites

[iznyangwoni]

EASY TO LOVE |chapter sixteen !

“You come with me.” Jungwon pulls your shirt lightly to catch your attention. You were about to get in the car with Wonyoung and Moka, so you turn around confused to look at the guy.

His brows are furrowed again, and his jaw is clenched. You decide to not comment on that, and instead you sign at Jay to switch places with you. Jungwon is basically dragging you into his car. “Jungwon.” He doesn’t answer, he opens the door for you and then just gets in the car.

Everyone else has already left, meanwhile Jungwon seems to be distracted, and really, really pissed. It’s annoying you. It really is, but you don’t want to stay in a car with him for two hours in a bad mood, so you put your hand over his before he can start the car. “Is everything okay?” “I don’t know, you tell me.”

He says, before brushing your hand off and starting the car. You look at him as if he’s crazy, because he’s honestly acting like it, you turn around to face the window, your arms crossed. The first thirty minutes of the ride are so silent its killing you, especially since only a few hours ago you both were in your room doing all kinds of things. What the hell could’ve gone wrong in so little time?

“You know, usually normal people have a conversation about what went wrong.” Jungwon lets out a sarcastic laugh, and you know for a fact that its not an amused one. “Well maybe you should figure it out yourself since you like acting like a damn smartass.” If his words weren’t pissing you off so much, you would’ve appreciated his appearance this morning way more.

He’s wearing a white sleeveless top, his arms flexing while he drives are about to drive you crazy. but this is not the right time. Still, you try again to be gentle, thinking that maybe it would help him calm down too. “I told you i dont like fighting with you, Wonie..” “Y/n right now its not the time to talk to me like that.”

You didn’t really notice at first, but he’s going really fucking fast. “Tell me what’s it about then? I cant read your mind.” You’re trying to act calm, but its so hard with him acting like this, speeding through the street and not giving you any reasons for your attitude. “Did you fucking got Minji expelled?” You keep silent.

Oh. So this is what is about. Jungwon takes a look at you when you dont answer, he already knows its the truth. You did it and he couldn’t understand why you did that over just a picture of the two of you kissing. “Y/n!” He almost shouts your name and you close your eyes for a second, he hits the steering wheel while also going faster.

“Slow down!” You shout back, you look at the mirrors, the street is completely empty, but that doesn’t make it any better. You put your hand on the handbrake, not wanting to pull it, but at least he would get the memo that way. “Jungwon slow the fuck down.” He doesnt think twice before taking your hand and putting it on your thigh. “Don’t you dare.”

“Slow down, you’re scaring me.” Jay had told you how fast of a driver Jungwon is, but this still doesnt seem normal. The guy sighs, his hand still on yours as he slows just a bit down, if he kept going that fast you would’ve probably threw up somewhere. “We shouldn’t talk about these things when you’re driving.”

“Oh sure now you’re the one who doesn’t want to talk.” “Jungwon-“ “Did you do it, yes or no?” You keep silent once again. The answer is obvious but you still cant bring yourself to tell him the true reason for that. You don’t want to tell him how scared you are about that video being leaked, you don’t want things to go back how they were last year.

“Jungwon you wouldn’t understand..” You feel your voice breaking, you know he’s never going to talk to you ever again after this. “Yeah i honestly don’t understand ruining someone’s life for so little so maybe you’re right.” “It’s not something so little.” Jungwon parks on your driveway, neither your mother or brother are home at the moment, but you dont want him to get inside the house right now.

“What it is then? Y/n i tried to act like i dont care, i really did, but this is getting bigger than i thought and i need to know now.” You shake your head to say no, your throat is already hurting, you dont want to cry. He’s going to hate you either way, so might as well go all out. “I can’t tell you. Just accept it.”

“Y/n you just ruined Minji’s life, how can i accept it?” You can see the disappointment written on his face, and that honestly breaks your heart even more, so you break eye contact, your eyes on your hands, playing with the keys of your house. “And who the hell are Ricky and Jiyoon?” You panic as you hear those names, where the hell did he get those?

“How much more do you know?” “That is not the point.” “Just tell me!” Jungwon stays silent when you snap at him like that. He can see your hands shaking, but he doesn’t say anything about it, his voice comes out much colder when he speaks next. “Only that you got them expelled too.”

You nod, it’s still much more than what you’d want him to know, but at least he isnt aware of what actually happened. “Y/n just how much more are you hiding? I care about you, and if the fact that something happened to you is true, then i need to know what it is. But by the only pieces of information i have, you look like the villain here.”

You chuckle sarcastically, of course you’re the villain in this story too. So why would you tell him the truth? He’d probably find a way to blame it on you just how many others did. You shake your head again, taking off your seatbelt and opening the door. “Y/n.”

“I told you you were getting too attached, Jungwon. I am not a good person, i do shitty stuff and dont get consequences because of my surname. I’m a spoiled, evil, mean little girl who has never had a bad day. And everything else that people told you about me. I’m sorry you believed that i wasn’t.” and with that you get out of the car, slamming the door loudly before getting in your house.

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[serpentandlily]

Wicked Games III

Wicked Games - Dark!BatBoys x Reader

Summary: Desperate to pay off a debt, you decide to break into the penthouse of one of Prythian’s richest males, one rumored to make his money in a less than legal way. But after witnessing something you weren’t supposed to, you find yourself caught in a wicked game of cat and mouse with three of the most dangerous males in Prythian. (Modern AU)

Warnings: smut (minors dni pls), dubcon, dark themes (if you would like more in depth warnings before reading, feel free to message me!)

a/n: Thank you so much for all the love/kind words you guys have left me regarding this series! I know I'm shit at replying to comments but I do read them all and they def warm my cold lil heart. Hope you guys enjoy this one ;)

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II

༺♥༻

Part III

༺♥༻

A week had gone by with no word from Rhysand, something that both relieved and also frightened you. You were still embarrassed about that night at the club with them. You had let them touch you, had let them bring you so close to the edge. In public too. As soon as Rhysand had dropped you back off at your apartment that night, you felt mortified. 

Still, the silence this week had put you on edge. Every noise made you jump, everywhere you went you looked over your shoulder constantly. 

Either Rhysand had considered your debt to him paid, or this was another mind game to him. He hadn’t even texted you. And it wasn’t like you could text him. No number had shown up the last time he had texted you.

You were left in a state of limbo and you should’ve felt peace at his lack of a presence in your life, but it was only the opposite. 

You were currently curled up in your bed, watching a show on your small laptop before your shift tonight, when a knock at your door had you almost throwing the laptop across the room.

You swallowed audibly, your pulse spiking. Fuck, was it Rhysand? Had your devil in disguise returned?

“Bunny, open up,” Tamlin shouted through the door. “It’s me.”

Shit. Fucking shit. You forgot that you still owed your ex money, money you were meant to get to him this week. Now part of you was wishing it was Rhysand at your door. 

You got up from the bed and opened the door to see Tamlin before you, a hand resting against the top of the doorframe and a grin on his face. 

You watched as his green eyes darted behind you, looking into your apartment as if he were checking for something before they returned to your face. He brushed past you into the apartment despite your noise of protest. You closed the door behind you and rested against it, crossing your arms. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” you said. And you meant it. If you were still being watched and a male was seen coming into your apartment, chances are he’d end up dead. “I don’t have your money yet.”

Tamlin raised a brow. “That’s what I’m here to talk about. Do you want to tell me why I got a personal visit from the Shadow this week who paid off your debt to me in full?”

Your eyes widened in shock. That was not at all what you were expecting him to say. “I’m sorry, what?”

Tamlin roamed around your apartment, picking up random trinkets and stuff thrown about. “You heard me correctly. One of Rhysand’s dogs came and paid off your debt. And I heard a rumor that you were seen with Rhysand himself at his night club. Do you want to explain that too?”

You bristled at his tone. You didn’t belong to him anymore. He had no right demanding information from you. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business. Shouldn’t you be happy that you were paid?”

Tamlin scoffed, turning to face you. “So it’s true then? You’re whoring yourself out to Rhysand of all people? Gods, bunny, I knew you were stupid but this…this is truly idiotic.”

You clenched your fists in anger. You released a long breath, trying to maintain your composure. “Tam, I think you should leave. If my debt is paid off then we have nothing to talk about.”

“Like hell we do,” he snapped at you. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all week long. Why have you been ignoring my calls?”

“I got a new phone,” you replied. “Sorry.”

He sighed and held out his hand. “Give it to me.”

You pulled your phone from your pocket and handed it over. It was easier to just do as he said instead of arguing about it. It would get him out of your apartment faster too.

His eyes widened as he looked at the new iPhone but then narrowed. “How the hell were you able to afford this?”

He grabbed it and started entering his number. “It was a gift.”

He scoffed again, sending himself a text from your phone. “So is that why you broke up with me? Was I not rich enough for you? Decided to go suck the dick of a felon for more money?”

“I really think it’s time for you to go now.” You glared at him, ripping your phone out of his hand. “For your own good.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, pushing you out of the way to storm from your apartment. “Don’t try calling me to bail you out of jail once you get caught fucking Rhysand.”

He slammed the door behind him, rattling the walls. You rolled your eyes just as your phone dinged.

Unknown: I take it by the look on Tamlin’s beastly face that you didn’t let him fuck you? 

You: Still watching me? Why don’t you go find a new hobby to partake in?  Unknown: Why would I do that when I get so much pleasure from watching you without you knowing where I am?

A picture was sent a second later. A blurry shot of you inside of your apartment in just your underwear. You let out a curse.

You: Fucking pervert.  Unknown: If I’m a pervert, then what does that make you, little mouse? You were ready to come all over my lap in the middle of a club. Or did you already forget about that?

Fuck no you hadn’t forgot about that. It was all you thought about late at night. That desire, the hot feeling of their hands on you, the pulsating music and lights. 

You: Fuck you

You made sure to add the emoji of a middle finger to the end of that message. 

Unknown: Oh you will, little mouse, you will. You: Like I said, you’re delusional and sick in the head if you think I’ll ever want any part of you. Unknown: Oh, little mouse, you have no idea just how sick I am. But you will find out. Be ready by 8pm tomorrow night. And wear that little black dress again. It’d be a shame if I never had the chance to rip it off you. 

You sent him the emoji of a middle finger again before tossing your phone down on your bed. You were not ready for another night with him…with them. Not when the need for all three of them still burned inside of you.

༺♥༻

It was a black SUV that was waiting outside for you this time. Azriel hadn't come to get you at your door either. The driver opened the backseat door for you and you slid in, noting it was just Rhysand waiting for you inside.

He gave you a feline grin, his eyes raking over your body, clearly pleased with what he saw. 

"Where are you taking me this time?"

You didn't waste any time with a greeting. Rhys raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for something. You rolled your eyes when you realized what.

"Where are you taking me this time, sir?" you spat out. 

"I'm attending a personal event tonight and I need a date."

"So is this how repaying my debt to you is going to work? Just act as your escort until you decide I've repaid you? I'm sure you can find another girl willing to accompany you for free."

He smirked at you, throwing his arm over the back of the seats, his fingers brushing against your shoulder. A shiver ran down your spine at his touch and by the glint in his eyes, you knew he had felt it. 

"It's cute that you think this has anything to do with a debt you owe me, darling."

You crossed your arms with a huff, "Then what the fuck else does it have to do with?" 

"Such a filthy mouth," he chided. "I already told you, little mouse. You were mine from the moment I laid my eyes on you. I gave you a week of freedom, but don't get any ideas, darling. You are mine and I will do whatever I want with you." 

"I am not yours." 

"And you think I'm the delusional one." 

You narrowed your eyes at him. He was such an arrogant prick. Before you could reply, the car stopped and the driver interrupted their conversation.

"Sir, we are at our destination." 

The driver stepped out of the car, opening the door for you. Rhysand came around the other side of the car and held out his hand for you. You begrudgingly took it. 

Rhysand gave the driver a dip of the head. "Thank you, Charles." 

You were standing in front of a large mansion, servants already waiting at the door to open it as you two walked up the front steps. Rhysand dipped his head at the servants as you passed and the sound of chattering became more clear once you stepped through the threshold. 

A slinky looking male walked up to greet you. He was handsome, if not for the pinched look on his face, with light blonde hair and pale skin. 

"Rhysand, so glad you could make it tonight," the male said, sounding anything but pleased.

"Keir," Rhysand greeted back. "I would never dream of missing one of your parties."

Keir, you had heard that name before. He was the mayor of Hewn City. Surprisingly, this was your first time ever seeing him. 

The sarcasm in his voice was evident. If Rhysand didn't want to be here, then why had he come? It didn't seem like this Keir guy wanted him here either. 

"And who might this be?" 

Keir's eyes roamed over you, making your insides curl with disgust. 

"This is y/n," Rhysand said. "My fiance."

What. The. Fuck.

He was lucky you hadn't grabbed one of the champagne flutes being passed around by servants or the wine would've sprayed out of your mouth. Why the fuck would he call you that?

Keir's eyes lingered on your hand. "Hm, no ring for the beautiful lady?"

"It's being custom made as we speak." Rhysand grinned, dangerously. "But I got ahead of myself and proposed without it. It was hard not to when she looks like this, wouldn't you agree? Didn't want her to get snatched up by some other male."  

“Of course, congratulations,” Keir agreed, though it sounded anything but friendly. “If you’ll excuse me, there are some other guests I have yet to greet. Please, enjoy my party.”

You let out the breath you were holding in as the male disappeared into the crowd. Your eyes instantly shot to Rhys. 

“What the hell was that?” you hissed under your breath. “Why did you introduce me as your fucking fiancé?”

“Not here, darling,” he answered with a grin, his eyes darting around to the people surrounding you.

He led you through the crowd, occasionally saying a greeting to those he recognized. Many eyes followed after him, you noticed, then lingered on you. You were met with more jealous stares from other women than you could count. 

Rhysand pushed a champagne flute into your hands but you noticed he didn’t have one for himself. “Drink, darling, relax. We are here to be stared at, enjoy it.”

“You don’t seem to like Keir all that much,” you whispered to him, sipping on the champagne. “So why bother coming?”

“Because, Keir likes to believe that he has full control over his shitfilled little city and I like to remind him who is really in charge every once in a while.”

“Watch it,” you grumbled. “I live in that ‘shitfilled little city.’”

Rhysand leaned down, his breath brushing against your ear. “Not after tonight, you don’t.” 

You glanced up at him. “What?”

But he stood back to his full height and said nothing else, eyes looking over the people still staring at the two of you. You felt your cheeks turn a bit red at all the attention. 

You were silent as you finished your glass of champagne, placing it on the empty tray of one of the staff members walking by once it was empty. 

As soon as you were done, Rhysand linked his hand with yours again. 

“I think we’ve been seen enough. Come, there is something I wish to show you.”

You followed him out of the crowd and away from the main room. You soaked in the beautiful paintings and rich decor as he led you down an empty corridor and into a conservatory. 

Your eyes widened as you spun around, glancing at the ornate room. Flowers of all shapes and sizes were spread everywhere, along with a few chaises and armchairs. The windowed ceiling and walls let you see the night sky, the stars glimmering above you. 

It was something you had only seen in magazines and movies. It was stunning, beautiful. You turned to face Rhysand to see him staring at you already, a soft smile on his handsome face. 

Your cheeks turned a bit pink, causing his smile to turn into a grin. He sunk down onto one of the chairs and tugged on your hips until you were sitting on his lap. The familiar position from the club already had your blood turning to fire. 

“I hate the man,” Rhys started. “But Gods, he does have one of the best views of the stars.” 

You looked up again, agreeing. One of Rhysand’s large hands wrapped around your waist, dragging you back to his hard chest while the other rested on one of your thighs. 

“Are you going to tell me why you told him I was your fiancé now?” you asked as his fingers began to rub circles on your waist. 

“Because you are,” Rhysand murmured, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. “I told you, little mouse, you are mine. I intend to make you my wife because I am never going to let you go now that I’ve found you.” 

You were fucked in the head. Seriously. Because his kiss and his words caused heat to start coiling in your lower stomach. 

“You truly are insane,” you whispered.

And he was. Rhysand was one giant, walking red flag. But you had never had good taste in men anyways. 

“Am I?” he whispered back.

He kissed your shoulder again before moving up your neck to your jaw. Your breath hitched as his finger grazed the underside of your breast. He smiled against your skin, pulling you even closer. 

“You know, I’ve been watching you all week long to see if you would follow my rules,” he murmured, huskily. “And darling, you have been a very, very good girl.”

You arched into his touch now, gasping as his hand trailed up your ribcage to brush against your breast. You should really be putting a stop to this. But…fuck it. It was a hot being in the hands of such a powerful man.

His hand continued its journey until it wrapped around the front of your throat.

“And good girls deserve to be rewarded,” he purred into your ear. “Don’t you think?”

His other hand pushed your thighs open and you swallowed audibly. Your eyes darted to the door leading into the conservatory where anyone could walk through. 

You needed to put a stop to this. “Rhysand, someone could walk in at any moment.” 

The hand that was resting on your throat gripped you by the chin instead and turned your head to look up at him. His pupils were blown, his pretty violet eyes now a dangerous black. His gaze darted between your own eyes and lips, hungrily.

“They all know better than to follow me, darling,” he said. 

His hand hiked your dress up to your hips and you caught his wrist. “W-What are you doing?”

He shrugged off your grip. “Relax, little mouse. Let me take care of you.”

Your skin was flushed with desire, a whimper escaping your lips as he stroked your clothed center. He pushed your thighs further apart and you let him, cursing yourself in your head. 

“That’s it, darling,” he praised. “Take your reward like the good girl you are.”

His fingers hooked around the waistband of your thong and began to drag it down your thighs. 

“Really, Rhysand, s-someone could come in,” your voice cracked as he dragged your thong all the way down your leg and over your black stilettos before sliding it into his pocket. 

Despite your protest, you did little to stop him. Didn’t even close your legs. You were a fucking idiot. And you would regret it later. But for now…

A wanton moan slipped from your mouth as Rhysand’ fingers stroked your bare pussy. You ground your hips into him, gasping as you felt his hardened length beneath you. 

“I think that just turns you on even more, little mouse,” he teased, brushing his fingers against you again. Your cheeks flushed at how wet you were already. Something Rhysand seemed very pleased about.

He groaned as you shifted your hips again, digging into his hard cock. He started rubbing your clit with his fingers and you tossed your head back against his shoulder with another moan.

He kissed your exposed neck, grazing the fragile skin with his sharp canines. 

“S-stop,” you choke out. “We shouldn’t.”

His fingers left from between your thighs and you’re protesting groan went completely against what you just said. 

“Stop,” he mocked, bringing his fingers up so you could see the glistening shine on them from your arousal. He ran them down your lips, spreading the taste of yourself on them. “Does this taste like you want me to stop?” 

He shoved his fingers into your mouth.

“Suck,” he commanded.

It was instinctual, primal even, to listen to him. You sucked on his fingers and he let out a groan as he watched you, turning you on more. The taste of yourself covered your tongue.

He yanked his fingers free and placed them back between your legs, lightly brushing your aching center.

“Say anything other than my name and you don’t get to come,” he growled. “Do you understand?”

You bit your lip as he began to rub your clit in circles again, staring down at where his fingers were touching you.

He forced you to look up at him again, his grip on your jaw so tight you let out a pained whimper. “I said, do you understand?”

You nodded as his fingers continued their assault, leaving you panting. “Y-yes, sir.”

He gave you a devil's grin. “Good girl.”

And then his lips smashed against yours. They were soft, softer than you imagined and you eagerly kissed him back as that electric feeling continued to build and build in your lower stomach. He tilted your chin up, deepening the kiss with a growl as his fingers slipped from where they had been rubbing your clit to tease at your entrance. 

He swallowed the moan that came from you with his kiss before he suddenly thrusted one finger inside of you. You gasped in pleasure, which he took advantage of, sticking his tongue in your mouth and claiming it as his. 

You withered in his lap, grinding against his hard cock as you panted, his finger thrusting in and out of you. Your vision nearly went white as he added a second one, filling you so deliciously.

Your head fell back against his shoulders, breaking your kiss apart. “Rhys.”

He trailed kisses down your jaw to your neck, nipping and sucking on your flesh. “You’re doing so good, darling. Gods, you are so tight. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my dick.”

You groaned at his lewd words, your orgasm building. 

“Rhys,” you begged, grinding your hips in rhythm with his fingers. You had been so on edge all week and thinking about that night in the club, so you knew it wouldn’t take very long to make you come around his fingers. 

“That’s it. Come for me, darling,” he purred into your ear. 

His thumb brushed against your clit and that was the final thing that tipped you over the edge. You mewled his name over and over again as your orgasm crashed through your whole body, arching into him. He kept thrusting his fingers in and out, riding you until your nails were biting into his skin. 

You fell limp in his arms as he finally pulled his fingers from you. You watched through hazy eyes as he brought them to his own lips this time and licked them clean. “Gods, you taste so good.”

You were still trying to catch your breath, letting him pull your dress back down. He admired your flushed face, your swollen lips with a grin. “See, wasn’t that so much better than being punished?”

You nodded, your eyes still hooded and Rhysand chuckled. 

“Is my little mouse tired now?” he cooed. He patted your butt, helping you stand on shaky legs. “Come, let me take you home, darling.”

He guided you out of the mansion with a hand on the back of your neck until you reached the black SUV waiting for you. Charles was there, opening the door already. Rhys helped you slide inside before coming around the other side of the car. 

He pulled you into his side, letting you rest your body against his as the car started up, and you let him, finding some comfort in his warmth. Within a few seconds of driving, you felt your eyes slowly start to shut. 

What felt like a minute later, you were jostled awake only to realize Rhysand was carrying you out of the car. You blinked, trying to wake fully but still felt so lethargic. How long had you been driving for? Keir’s

mansion hadn’t been that far from your apartment. 

“Where are we?” you slurred as Rhys pushed your head into the croak of his neck, carrying you up what seemed to be steps. 

“Home, darling,” he murmured to you. 

You didn’t think twice about his words or you might’ve realized that you had a different understanding of what that meant than he did. Only nodded and closed your eyes again, falling back into a blissful sleep.

༺♥༻

When you woke up the next day, you were met with the sight of an unfamiliar room. You jolted up, the black sheets you had been under pooling at your waist. You had no idea where you were. Your eyes darted around the huge, ornate room. 

The walls were a cream color with gold moulding.  A huge window was on the left side of the room, beautiful dark red curtains partially covering its view. You were in a four poster bed with a gauzy canopy. There were a total of three doors on the various walls, all closed except one that led into what looked like a bathroom. 

Where the hell were you? The last thing you remembered from last night was Rhysand telling you he was taking you home. But this was certainly not your home. Hell, there was no way you were even in Hewn City. You could tell by the lack of smog in the sky from the view out of the window. 

You swung your legs over the side of the bed,

rising. You frowned when you realized you were no longer wearing the dress from last night but a skimpy nightgown. The wood floor was cold under your feet as you made your way to the bathroom, happy to find a still packaged toothbrush and toothpaste. 

Once you had freshened up, you explored the other doors in the room. The first one you opened led to an empty hallway. You quickly shut it and went to the other one which opened to a walk-in closet. Your eyes narrowed as you took in the only things hanging in there. Lingerie of all types in all different colors, sheer and silk robes, and heels. 

You grumbled to yourself, grabbing one of the silk robes and putting it on over your nightgown, not that it did much to cover you more. 

You hesitantly made your way into the empty hallway, slowly walking as you listened for any signs of people. There were doors lining the walls but you didn't open them, hoping to find a living room or something of that sort instead. You must've been in a mansion because you swore the hallways seemed neverending. 

"Is that a little mouse I see scurrying around?"

You let out a noise of surprise, jumping at the loud, cheery voice that called out from behind you. You whipped around to see Cassian standing at the end of the hallway, his chest bare with his shirt thrown over his shoulder and glistening with sweat. You couldn't stop your eyes from roaming his body, his insane, god-like body. Gods, who the hell made him? 

When you met his eyes again, the grin on his face told you he knew that you had just been checking him out. You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest. "Where am I? What is this place?"

"This," Cassian chimed, "is our home, little mouse. Rhysand's mansion. Our compound. Call it what you want." 

"I thought he lived at The Sidra."

Cassian ran a hand through his shoulder length hair. "No, who the fuck would want to live in Hewn City—no offense! That is just where we do our business when it involves that city, so no one knows where we actually live." 

"Okay," you said slowly. "So where the hell are we? And why am I here?" 

“This property is so big, it’s basically its own small town. You won’t find anyone else for miles and miles, little mouse, so don’t bother running,” he winked at you. “As for why, I’ll let Rhys explain that. Speaking of, he asked me to check if you were awake and to escort you to his office.”

You begrudgingly walked to him, letting him start the course to Rhysand’s office, hoping to get some answers.

“I heard you two had quite the night, little mouse,” Cassian said, grinning down at you.

You had to admit, next to Cassian you were basically a little mouse. The male was a giant, at least a foot taller than you. But something about his demeanor made him less threatening. He seemed like the friendliest out of the three. Not as dark and foreboding as the other two. 

Your cheeks turned red as you looked away. “So Rhysand is the type to kiss and tell. How juvenile.” 

Cassian let out a laugh that made you do a double take. He was beautiful. Not as pretty as Azriel or regal as Rhysand, but equally attractive in his own way. More masculine and brutal in his beauty. 

“I’m telling him you said that,” he said. 

You shrugged your shoulders, examining the place as you walked down the hallway. Outside of the room you had been in, the rest of the place had a much more modern feel, with dark gray walls and dark flooring. 

“Here we are,” Cassian said, stopping you just before a large set of double doors. He pushed them open, gesturing at you to walk-in first like a gentleman. 

Rhysand’s office was huge. The first thing you noticed was the wall that was a window, overlooking the backyard. Rhysand was sitting at a large desk in front of it, in an armchair that resembled a throne. 

Bookshelves lined the walls, many books and expensive looking trinkets on them. On the other side of the room was a weapons rack locked behind a gated case full of guns and pistols. 

Your eyes went back to the desk, noticing now that Azriel was also in here. 

“Sleeping beauty is awake,” Cassian announced in greeting. “Found her roaming around the halls.” 

“Thank you, Cass,” Rhysand said with a dip of the head. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I think it’s time I give our little friend Devlon a visit.”

Cass nodded at Rhys and stepped out of the office, closing the doors behind him. You watched him until he disappeared from view before turning back to face the other two. 

“Come here, little mouse,” Rhysand said, pointing to the empty chair that Azriel was leaning against across from him. 

You took a seat, looking at Rhysand cautiously. He was wearing a black t-shirt that showed off the black swirling tattoos on his arms, ones you hadn’t seen before. 

“Why am I here? I thought you were taking me home last night, not kidnapping me,” you snapped. 

Rhys placed his arms over his head, leaning back in his chair like a king with no crown. “You are home, darling.” 

“Stop with the bullshit, Rhysand. Take me home. Now.” 

“Like I said, little mouse, you are home. This is your home now. I won’t have my fiancé living in that squalor.” 

“I’m not your fucking fiancé! You’re psychotic! Take me home!”

“We really have to do something about that mouth, don’t you agree, Az?” Rhysand looked at the shadow that was hovering behind you. 

He must’ve nodded because Rhysand looked back down at you. 

“I’m not playing around, Rhysand,” you growled. “Take me home!”

Rhysand rose, placing his palms on the desk as he peered down at you. “And I’m not playing around either. It is not safe for you to live in Hewn City now that I’ve told Keir that you’re my fiancé.”

You threw your hands in the air. “Why on earth did you have to tell him that then? I am not your fiance. I am not your girlfriend. I am simply someone who owes you a debt that you literally met only two weeks ago.”

“I’m growing tired of this, little mouse,” Rhysand snarled, prowling around the desk until he stood before you. “I think I have made myself very clear. This has nothing to do with a debt. You are mine. Mine.”

“And I’m growing tired of you acting like you own me! I am not yours!”

“Really? Let me ask you this, little mouse. Does anybody else make your body sing the way I do? Has anyone’s touch ever turned you on fire like mine? Admit it. Your body belongs to me. All I’m missing is your heart. But that’ll soon be mine as well.” 

You felt heat creep up your neck because he was right. A simple touch from Rhysand did cause a spark inside of you that you had never even felt before. Even Cassian’s touch that night at the club had awoken something in you. Like your darkest desires had been unleashed that day and now, no other touch would compare. But you didn’t want him to know that. For your own dignity. 

“You think very highly of yourself, Rhysand,” you scoffed, looking away. 

But he had seen the color on your cheeks, had seen the darkness burning in your eyes. 

“Look at me,” he ordered. You swallowed, your eyes darting back up to his striking face. A muscle in his jaw was clenched and he rose to his full height. “You live here now. This is your home. It is not safe for you to return to your apartment and frankly, you were never safe there to begin with. I’ve already had someone retrieve the important things from your place and they are all waiting for you in your new room, the one you woke up in. You are not locked up here. I will give you a car. You may come and go, but you will always tell either me, Azriel or Cassian when you are going to leave.”

He had a point. Your neighborhood was extremely unsafe. And if people knew what you meant to Rhys, it would only put a target on your back. You cursed him in your head. This had been his plan all along. To find a reason to make you live here. 

“And what if I take the car and never come back?” you asked, staring defiantly up at him. 

He smirked. “Then I will find you and we can play this game of cat and mouse forever.” 

You bit your lip, wanting to retort but the look in his eyes, that feral, crazed looked stopped you. This was the most powerful and dangerous male in all of Prythian and you knew without a doubt that he would find you, no matter how far you ran. This beautiful, lethal male was obsessed with you…and you were fucked up for being so utterly turned on by it. 

“Did I make myself clear?” 

You nodded and he looked at you expectantly.

“Yes sir,” you grumbled. 

Just because you were agreeing, just because you were filled with craving and desire, didn’t mean you were just going to throw yourself at him. No, you would make this just as difficult as he did. 

“Good. Now get on your knees,” he commanded. 

Your eyes widened. “W-what?”

“I said get on your knees, little mouse.” 

You hated the way your body listened, falling to the floor in front of him.

“Take off my belt,” he ordered. 

You glared up at him. “Fuck you.” 

“See, that’s why you’re in trouble right now. That filthy mouth,” Rhysand growled. “Take off my belt, little mouse. Don’t make me ask you again.” 

You continued to glare at him as you reached up and started to undo his belt, your cheeks heating with embarrassment as you realized he was rock hard underneath his pants. You yanked it from him roughly and he smirked as he grabbed it from you, handing it to Azriel over your head. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion as Azriel bent down on his haunches behind you. Rhysand gave him a nod of the head and suddenly, two scarred hands were grabbing your wrists and twisting them behind your back. You let out a yelp as you felt Azriel loop the belt around them, trying to shrug him off, but he was much stronger. He tightened the belt until your wrists were secured behind your back to the point of pain. 

“What are you doing?” you hissed up at Rhysand. 

Rhysand unbuttoned his pants with one hand while the other landed on your head, stroking your hair. “Teaching you another lesson, little mouse. If you want to have a filthy mouth, then I expect that you to do filthy things with that mouth.” 

He unzipped his pants and pulled his hard cock free. Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of him, at how large he was. You had felt it against you, of course, but seeing it was different. You couldn’t help but imagine it ramming into you over and over again until you screamed. 

“Open your mouth,” he directed. 

You shook your head, pressing your lips together. 

“Open your mouth, now,” he ordered again, his voice as dark as night. You just glared up at him, keeping your mouth firmly shut. He let out a scoff and looked at Azriel who was still kneeling behind you. “Azriel.”

You didn’t know what that command meant until you felt Azriel’s hand wrap around your throat from behind. You restrained from opening your mouth and he began to squeeze and squeeze. You whimpered at the pain but kept your mouth shut until your lungs were empty of air, burning in your chest. He eased the pressure a little bit and you finally gasped for air. 

Rhysand took the opportunity to thrust his dick into your mouth, using the hand on the back of your head to guide you. You choked as he hit the back of your throat, tears forming in your eyes. He let out a groan, tossing his head back. 

“Come on, little mouse, suck my cock and you might get a reward yourself,” he growled.

Fuck it, you decided. If you were going to do this, you were going to completely own him like he thought he did you. You hallowed out your cheeks and flattened your tongue, bobbing your head. He hissed, his hand tangling in your hair. You ran your tongue down the vein on the underside of his cock, pulling another groan from him. 

You glared up at him, tears slipping down your cheeks as you choked on his dick, taking him as far as you could. He started pushing your head back and forth for you, fisting your hair. You used every trick you had in your arsenal, drawing moan after moan from his mouth. 

“Fuck, darling, your mouth feels so good,” he growled.

You continued to glare at him.

“Oh don’t look at me like that. I know you’re enjoying this,” he grunted, thrusting his cock in your mouth, fucking your face as you could do nothing, not even brace yourself against his thighs with your arms held behind your back. 

You scoffed around his cock, denying his claim.

“So if Azriel were to touch you right now, he wouldn’t find your dripping with how much this turns you on?” 

You growled, causing him to groan again at the vibration. He looked at Azriel and suddenly a hand was reaching down between your legs, pushing your panties to the side and stroking your center. You moaned at the touch of his fingers, already knowing what he found. He lifted his fingers, showing off the glistening arousal coating them. 

“Thought so,” Rhysand grinned, fisting your hair even tighter. “Continue, Azriel.”

You had no idea what that meant until you felt Azriel’s fingers stroking your pussy again. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he rubbed circles around your clit. You were absolutely throbbing. 

Rhysand continued to thrust into your mouth, grunting as his pace quickened. “Gods, you take me so well, darling. Like your mouth was made for this cock. Fuck.” 

His dirty words only turned you on more. You could feel your own arousal dripping down the side of your thigh. Azriel’s other hand slid between your legs, his fingers teasing your entrance as he continued to rub your clit. You gasped as he slid a finger inside of you, pulling it back out slowly, and then roughly thrusting it back in. 

You were certain you had never been more turned on in your life before. Stuck between these two males, one fingering you from behind while the other used your mouth brutally. You cried as Azriel added a second finger, continuing in pace with Rhysand’s thrusts into your mouth. 

“Fuck,” Rhysand snarled, his thrusts became sharper, faster. Tears were pouring from your eyes as he hit the back of your throat time and time again, making you choke on his dick. “That’s it, darling. Gods, just like that. Fuck.”

It was so hot how much control you had over Rhysand in this moment, despite the position they had put you in. He was a slave to you right now. You were the owner of his pleasure. You moaned around his dick as Azriel quickened the thrusts of his fingers inside of you. 

You felt Rhysand tightened in your mouth before he slammed your head to meet his thrust, burying his cock into your throat, chanting your name over and over. You choked as hot liquid spurted into your throat but Rhysand kept you there, his cock buried in your mouth, not letting you go. You swallowed all of his cum until the veins in his arms were protruding from the overstimulation. He finally pulled out of your mouth, letting you gasp for air. 

As soon as your mouth was free, Azriel ripped a hand away from your pussy and grabbed you by the back of the throat. He pushed you forward until your face was pressed against the ground, your ass in the air. You moaned as he pushed his fingers deeper into you while holding you down. 

“God, please,” you mewled. 

“I am no God,” Azriel growled into your ear, his voice so dark and sensual, it pushed you closer to the edge. 

His hand tightened on your throat until your vision was nearly white and your body was shaking with pleasure. You felt your orgasm building and building, pushing your hips back to meet each thrust of his fingers until you cried out his name, wave after wave of pleasure taking over your body.

He didn’t stop as you pulsated around his fingers, didn’t stop until you were crying and begging him to. Only then did he yank his fingers free. Your body went limp as you panted, his hand finally leaving your throat so you could breathe properly. 

“And that is what you get for obeying me, little mouse” Rhysand purred from above you.  

༺♥༻

The next day, Rhysand gave you a full tour of the entire place. You were blown away. There were two huge garages full of sports cars, motorcycles and SUVS. An indoor and outdoor gym. Three different pools and hottubs. A weapons room. A fancy, formal dining room along with another more intimate one. Many different rooms for meetings. An intel room full of high-tech computers and equipment. A large living room with a massive tv, fireplace and sitting area. A beautiful kitchen that was stocked with just about everything you could dream of. 

It was truly an unbelievable place. He even had gardens outside, five different gaming rooms, a lounge, four different bar set-ups. Cassian had been right when he described it as a compound. 

Once the tour was over, it had taken just a little over an hour, Rhysand led you to the kitchen to get some lunch. They also apparently had a personal chef who made all their meals. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. You had been poor all your life. Had never even been to a hotel that was half as nice as this place was. 

Rhysand was explaining some of the rules they had here when Azriel and Cassian walked into the kitchen, both shirtless. Your eyes raked over their bodies, unable to stop yourself. You looked back at Rhysand to see him grinning. You scowled at him. You waited until they left before you said anything.

“Do you also make them walk around half dressed?” you gestured to your own attire. Your closet was still only full of lingerie and robes. When you had asked for clothes, Rhysand had just told you he much preferred you like this. 

“Oh no, darling, they are doing that on your behalf,” he purred. 

Your eyebrows raised. “What? On my behalf? What do you mean?”

“Well, you see, Cassian and Azriel have a bit of a bet going on.”

“What does that have to do with them hardly wearing clothes?” 

“They’re both trying to entice you, darling. The bet is for which one of them you’re going to fuck first.”

“Who says I want to fuck either of them?”

“Still playing this same game, little mouse?” He gave you a look that had your jaw clenching. 

“And what about you? Are you not part of this bet?”

“Oh no, darling. They both know you’re going to be fucking me first,” he grinned. “They have strict orders not to have you before I do.” 

“Is that so?” 

You bit back a grin, suddenly twisting at the thought of a new challenge. You looked at the door the two male had disappeared through. You were absolutely going to do everything you could to make one of them disobey Rhysand. It would be fun to finally have some control over the situation, to finally knock the arrogant leader down a peg. 

But which one was likely to give in first? 

Well, that was something you were definitely going to find out. 

༺♥༻

Tag list: @justdreamstars @minakay @f4iry-bell @godletmebeanf1wag @judig92 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @peaceandcrackers @glitterypirateduck @gorlillaglue25 @the-lake-is-calling @danikamariemain @sousydive @mis-lil-red @hallucynatiing @librafairy @poshestpigeon @sirenaobscura @red-rabbit-13 @elle4404

*If you asked to be on the taglist but don't see your username, tumblr wouldn't let me tag you for some reason :(

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just the Two of Us: Starry Night

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: Steve stops by unexpectedly.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your phone buzzes again. You’ve been ignoring it. To you, it’s more a nuisance than a convenience. The only people calling want to sell you something and your work only emails. You get your assignments and you complete them. Simple as. 

You prefer simplicity. You’ve lived in chaos before and you hope you never do so again. Ironic to think you came to New York, then. Well, it’s easy to blend in there. 

You finally pull your eye away from the lens and check the screen. You hover your finger over dismiss before you read the ID. Steve? You tap ‘answer’. 

“Hey?” You utter, “what’s going on? It’s late?” 

“Ah, you know, bored,” he answers. 

“You’re bored so you’re calling me at nine?” You scoff. 

“What? Are you surprised the old man stays up past six?” He chuckles. The background noise is a garble of passing cars and a few honks. It all seems to echo dully. 

“No, I’m just...” 

“Busy?” He intones. 

“No. Just didn’t expect you to call.” 

“Ah, were you about to turn in? Bit early,” he turns the judgement on you. 

“I wish. Kinda restless.” You admit. “Wait, I thought you were out of town.” 

“Yeah, I just got back. Hey, do me a favour and tell me which one of these buildings is yours.” He says. 

You hesitate. Huh? Your silence leaves the line to drone. He says your name. 

“Where are you?” You ask. 

“I don’t know, that’s the problem.” 

“Aren’t you from New York?” You challenge. 

He sighs, “okay, let’s rephrase. I don’t know where you are.” 

Once more, you pause. You’re not exactly prepared for company. In fact, you’ve never let anyone else into your tiny apartment. On top of that, you’re huddled under a blanket on your balcony, in a pair of old sweats and an oversized cotton tee. 

“You’re coming here?” 

“Sure. Ah, come on, I’m wandering around. I’m starting to get looks from the creeps like I’m one of them,” he quips. 

“Alright,” you murmur and recite your address. “Buzz up. Code is 1147.” 

“Right, think I can handle that.” You hear scuffling on his end. “See ya soon.” 

The call cuts and you lower the phone. Steve is cool. Well, he is a hero. An Avenger. You don’t really get why he still hangs around. You’re lame. You’re just you. Yet here he is stopping by like an old friend from college. It’s strange, as you think of it, how abruptly he just barged in on your night, but he is the Cap, so what’s the big deal? 

You should be grateful. It’s been a while since you had a friend. Since you even had the choice to have one. 

You stand, careful not to knock into the telescope, and pull the blanket around your shoulders. You step into your apartment, brisk from the night air, and look around. You don’t have much, but enough. 

You clear off the futon and fold it up into a couch. The squeal of the metal hurts your ears and is capped off by the buzzer’s horrid drone. You go to answer, peering around your bachelor in dread. Why didn’t you think of it before? This place isn’t fit for Steve Rogers. 

“I’m here,” Steve chimes through the static. 

“Uh, yeah, er, are you sure—we could go somewhere?” You offer, even if you’re not in the mind to leave. 

“Nah, can I come up? Everything okay?” 

“It’s fine,” you assure him, “one sec.” 

You press the other button and your stomach flips. Great. That’s it then. He’ll see how you live and realise he’s too good for you. 

You wait by the door and peer through the peep hole. When you hear his footsteps from down the hall, you flip back the lock and look out around the wood. You wave to him as he approaches. 

“Oh my god,” you can’t help but exclaim he reaches you. He has a gash across his hairline. “What happened to you?” 

He frowns then reaches up to try to tug his hair over the cut. “It’s fine. It’ll be all healed up by the morning.” 

“The morning? That’s a nasty one.” 

“Yeah, well, the serum...” 

“Right, right,” you roll your eyes at yourself. How can you forget? 

“Well, you look cozy,” he smiles and gestures to you.  

You look down at the fringed edge of the blanket hugged around you. 

“Yeah, I was just outside.” 

“Really? In this weather?” He wonders. 

“Mhmm,” you hum. “I guess you wanna come in then.” 

“Ideally, yeah,” he snorts. 

“Okay, but uh, like, it’s pretty small so...” 

“Oh, don’t even worry about it. I’m used to small things. I was around in the 30s, you know? I’m sure I’ve seen worse,” he chuckles. “Besides, anything’s better than a foxhole.” 

You step back and nod. You never really forget who he is but you don’t always consider everything he’s done. Everything he’s been through. It makes you feel a little less cursed yourself. 

He steps inside and looks around. You see the twitch in his brow but nothing else. No reaction, but you’re certain he’s judging. 

“I told you--” 

“What were you doing outside?” He bowls over your embarrassment. 

“Um, looking at the stars.” 

“You can see them in this stuff,” he squints. 

“I have a telescope,” you close the door and he bends to untie his boots. 

“Really? So, it’s like a big thing for you. All professional and stuff.” 

“I just like to look,” you shrug. 

“That’s... cute. Interesting. Probably see more outside the city though,” he muses. 

“Probably,” you agree. “So, I don’t have much else going on. You want a hot chocolate or something? I was about to make some.” 

“Hot chocolate?” He echoes as he strides around the small space. “That sounds delicious.” 

“Just the cheap stuff,” you counter. 

“I don’t mind,” he turns his back to you and sits on the futon. It creaks perilously under his weight.  

He doesn’t seem bothered as his head tilts and he seems to stare at the papers stuck to your wall to form a haphazard star map. You cringe. You’re an uber nerd sometimes. He must think so. 

“You did that?” He asks as you dip around to the small kitchen, penned in with only a counter. 

“Uh, yeah. It’s just... It’s not very accurate I’m sure...” You mutter. 

“Still pretty interesting,” he leans forward, his arms on his knees. 

“I’m sure you’ve seen more interesting things,” you argue as you fill the kettle. “You don’t have to lie to me, Cap. Aren’t you supposed to be honest?” 

“I’m not Abe Lincoln,” he chuckles. “I’m being honest though. I like to draw too.” 

“It’s not really drawing.” You twist the stove knob as you put the kettle on the burner. “Just... making dots and lines.” 

“I don’t know. It’s still artistic in a way,” he says. 

“Alright,” you say doubtfully. “So, what has you so restless that you’re knocking down my door?” 

You come out to the front room, not that it’s very separate from everything else, and step up next to the couch. 

“Well, to be honest, my other friends are too busy for me these days. But also, I’m too busy for them. You’re more fun.” 

“Oh, fun? Hot chocolate and stars,” you shake your head. 

“Yes,” he insists as he looks up at you. “Can I see the telescope?” 

He stands up and you lean back on your heel. He’s a lot bigger up close. You tend to steer clear of others. You’ve never been very comfortable with proximity. 

“Uh, sure,” you back up, barely restraining your frantic nerves. “Sure, I’ll show you.” 

You sweep around the back of the couch, the blanket flapping against your back and go to the balcony. You sense him behind you. You step out and hold the door before he can catch up. He emerges and you turn your focus to the scope. It’s easier when you have a distraction and you could go on for hours about all the cool features of the one thing you splurged on in the whole place. 

[ponderingmoonlight]

waayy to classic but having to share a bed while they were 'just friends' ? Yk where they actually like each other but too shy ore prideful? MAYBE WITH MEGUMI cu he's my our pretty boy ANY ANY OTHER CHARACTER YOU WANT

THANK YOU THANK YOU I LOVE YOUR WRITING

Okay, that escalated quickly. This might be a classic, but I simply love the idea! I added a little twist to each character so it isn’t always the same. I’m thinking about writing this for every character, so let me know if you’d want to read that. Hope you enjoy <3

JJK men sharing a bed with (y/n)

Pairing: Megumi x reader; Nanami x reader; Yuta x reader

Word Count: 3k

Notes: Part ll (Gojo sharing a bed with (y/n) at a love hotel

Part lll (Toji, Geto, Haibara, Choso)

Megumi Fushiguro

You hated big parties. To be honest, you hated every kind of party, although it’s comforting that Megumi is here too. A glimpse into his grumpy but forbidden stunning face is enough to perceive the fact that he dislikes it here as much as you do.

“I don’t know why I’m even here. How did she manage to pull us with her?”, Megumi grumbles, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Well, I guess Nobara can be quite persuasive”, you remark while watching Yuji play twister with a screwed up face.

You sign. The music blasts so loud that it threatens to rip your eardrum apart, your head began to ache the minute you stepped into this big house. Who lives here anyway? It doesn’t matter. If you don’t come out of here within the next few minutes, you’re going to throw up on the expensive looking carpet in front of you.

“Hey (y/n), are you alright? You look quite pale”, Megumi comments while eyeing you intensely.

Fuck. Your heart hammers against your ribcage. He is so close to you that you can take in the sight of his gorgeous face in great detail, only one look at his lips is enough to change the color of your face into deep red.  

“To be honest, I don’t feel so good. This is just too much for me I guess”, you whimper, eyes glued to the ground in a despairing attempt to stop yourself from staring at him so ruthlessly.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner? Come with me.”

He grabs your hand and pulls you with him, through the endless crowd of people, the blasting music and stinging scent of alcohol. Is he…really holding your hand? He’s touching you. Megumi Fushiguro is really touching you. You feel like flying and drowning at the same time, tired while being wide awake. Of course he touched you from time to time, after all he is your training partner mostly. But tender contact like this is very rare. You know this is actually your fault, given the fact how shy you act around him. But something about Megumi Fushiguro just makes your heart skip a beat and turns your senses upside down. Maybe you will tell him some day. Maybe…

“Nobara, is there a place where (y/n) and I can rest? She doesn’t feel well”, Megumi literally barks at her.

“Um, I think there’s a guestroom down the hall on the right. It’s a little quieter there I guess.”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he turns on his heels, your hand still intertwined with his own, and dashes down the hallway.

“Finally”, he mutters and opens the door to a small but cute guestroom.

You close the door behind you and take a deep breath. Finally no loud music, drunk people and scent of alcohol that stings in the air. Megumi flops onto the bed, gaze set upon you.

“What are you waiting for? I thought you don’t feel well, lay down.”

Your eyes widen. There is only one bed in this room and he’s lying on top of it. Could you possibly…lay beside him? It would be big enough to fit you both, but with very little space. This means you are forced to touch each other, even if only your skin brushes against his. Your head turns pink all over again, eyes pressed closed to get the image of him holding you in his arms until you slowly drift off to sleep out of your dirty mind.

“B-but there’s only o-one bed”, you stutter.

“So what? It’s big enough to fit us both. Come here.”

He pats the soft mattress beside him invitingly. Can you really do this? It seems like there’s no other possibility anyways, so…

You let your worn-out body fall next to him, arms slightly brushing against his. It feels so good to finally breathe and to rest your head a little. You curse yourself for coming her in the first place even though you know well enough that you absolutely hate big and loud parties.

The reason for you being here lays right beside you, though.

“Are you feeling better? Maybe I can get you a glass of water or-“

“No”, you interrupt him.

“I’m absolutely fine, thank you.”

“You look a little red, almost as if you have fever. Are you really feeling alright, (y/n)?”

He places his hand on your forehead and you swear you can see the sparks that evaporate from your skin the second he touches you. You wish you could tell him how you feel, that you want to stay with him like this forever, but you are too shy to even admit your feelings to yourself. Megumi is a friend, a colleague. Nothing else, right?

“Let’s just rest a little, okay? Maybe you’ll feel better after a good nap.”

“Do you really think we can just…sleep here?”, you question.

“Sure, why not? It’s a guestroom with a bed in it”, Megumi replies dryly and shrugs.

“Only one bed though”, you blurt out.

Megumi shifts his weight beside you and now faces you completely.

“Is this a problem for you? I can go if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No I’m not! You’re not the problem here! It’s just…”

You can’t find the words. In fact, you feel like your whole head is empty.

“Let’s just nap, shall we? We can talk about this tomorrow when you’re feeling better”, Megumi suggests.

You simply nod and turn to the order side, heart still racing inside of your chest. Maybe a little sleep wouldn’t hurt after all…

______________________________________________________________

“Quiet Itadori, (y/n) and Megumi are in there.”

“ALONE!?”, Yuji cries out.

Nobara rolls her eyes and hits him roughly.

“How dumb are you actually? Shut the fuck up, idiot. We need to be quiet.”

Slowly, she opens the door to the dark room. There you both lay, bodies intertwined with each, your steady breath being the only sound that fills the rooms.

“They’re cuddling!”, Yuji screams and turns on the lights before Nobara is able to stop him.

“What the hell?”, Megumi’s sleep drunken voice mutters.

You open your eyes and blink against the harsh light that invades the whole room. What time is it? Why do you feel so warm and cozy? Did you still get home somehow? Oh, that delicious smell that tingles your nose. It reminds you of…

MEGUMI.

Megumi’s hands are wrapped around your waist, his broad chest pressed against your back. Your eyes widen, suddenly your body feels on fire. And even worse, Nobara and Yuji stand in the doorframe and stare at you with their mouths wide open.

“Did I miss something?”, Yuji cries out.

“We just shared a bed. You’re embarrassing me in front of (y/n)”, Megumi mumbles, his hands still resting still against your body.

“Hey, you owe us an explanation! You never told us there’s something between you both!”, Nobara speaks up, her finger pointing directly into Megumi’s face.

“So sorry about that”, he whispers into your ear, his warm breath against your ear sending shivers down your spine.

“N-no p-problem.”

Your voice isn’t more than a fade whisper, still completely in shock by the fact that you are held by Megumi Fushiguro. In presence of his friends. In. A. Bed.

Nanami Kento

You toss and turn in your sleep. How many nightmares did you have this week? You lost count. Over and over you repeat Haibara’s death in your head and the way you just stood there and didn’t do anything about it. That was over 10 years ago, but the death stare in his eyes still haunts you to this day late at night.

Your whole body is covered in ice cold sweat, whimpers escape your mouth as you desperately try to shake away the scorching pain that repeats the second time around.

“Why are you just standing there, do something (y/n)!”, Nanami’s voice screams at you.

It isn’t true. Nanami never raised his voice at you like that.

“You are absolutely useless. Do you really call yourself a jujutsu sorcerer? You should have died in his place.”

“N-no”, you mutter, shaking your head over and over again.

Nanami is a light sleeper anyway, but the sound of your whimpers and silent screams wake him up immediately. He sits up in bed, feet carrying him automatically to your doorstep. It isn’t a secret to him anymore that you are plagued by nightmares since the incident with Haibara. It always feels like a knife in his throat to see you this broken after so many years.

“(y/n)”, he softly whispers.

There you lay, completely covered in sweat, body shaking uncontrollably while you sob in your sleep. He kneels down next to your trembling frame, gently caressing your face with his thumb. God, why do you have to suffer like this? It isn’t fair that you have to feel so miserable because of some fucking curses. You don’t deserve the pain that dreadful day caused you.

“It’s just a dream, (y/n). Wake up, I’m here”, he speaks into the unforgiving darkness of night.

“Nanami, I-…so s-sorry…All my fault…”, you mumble, tears streaming down your disturbed face in a river.

His heart clenches. What are you dreaming about? Nanami’s grip tightens around your shoulders, softly shaking you in a frantic attempt to wake you up.

“Hey, none of this is real. I’m here, (y/n).”

Your eyes snap open and dart around with no aim. Your rushed and sharp breathes ring through your ears, heart hammering against your ribcage.

“There you are”, a familiar voice next to you comments.

“Nanami”, you breathe out.

It was just a dream. All of the things he said, the things you saw over and over again weren’t real.

“Fuck, I’m sorry”, you mutter and bury your face in your hands.

Was he here the whole time? Your cheeks feel puffy and soaked and tears, embarrassment consumes you entirely. How much you hate it when he sees you like this, vulnerable and weak. It’s not the first time that Nanami puzzles you back together after a nightmare.

“Don’t be, come here.”

His strong arms embrace you in an instant and slowly but surely push your nightmares away.

“What was it this time?”

“It’s like my brain wants me to think that you hate me I guess”, you mutter into his arms while holding onto his shoulders for dear life.

This situation is so common that you lost count on how many times he visited you already over the last few years. The second you open your eyes, you stare into his brown orbs that make your world whole again. Since the day Haibara lost his life. Since the day your nights turned into nightmares.

“But I’m right here and I’m telling you that I don’t hate you at all.”

You let out a silent laugh. Oh, how much you hoped this would come to an end. You aren’t even able to remember the last night with proper sleep.

“Would you mind staying here for a while?”, you shyly request, avoiding eye contact.

“Scoot over.”

Your back rests against the cold wall while he wraps one arm around your shoulder and places your head on his chest. The way his heart beats steady against your ear seems to calm you down immediately, almost therapeutic.

“I hope you don’t mind having so little room. I’m slightly taller than you I’m afraid”, he murmurs, gently stroking your back.

“I’m the one who should ask you that. After all, I woke you up and now force you to stay with me”, you reply with a nervous grin.

“Wouldn’t be a problem to put in some ear plugs or leave you alone. Come on, (y/n). I’m here because I want to be and not because you force me to. You are my friend, I hate to see you like this and I’ll do anything I can to make you feel at least a little better.

You bury your head in his soft t-shirt and hold onto him a little tighter. How do you deserve that this great man is lying next to you in your very own bed night after night? You really don’t know. All you hope is that it doesn’t stop though. Maybe, just maybe he will someday stay here with you forever…

Yuta Okkotsu

“Are you alright (y/n)?”, Yuta’s worried voice shouts over the blizzard that mercilessly haunts both of you this late at night.

You feel like dying. Hands and feet? No more feeling. Your nose? Running like a river while being numb at the same time. Your limbs feel like they’ll fall off any given minute while you want nothing more than a warm bed, a cup of tea and to watch some Netflix. How the hell did you end up in this living hell? Oh right, that stupid mission. Well, at least Yuta is with you. Otherwise you would have gave up already.

“Actually no. Everything just hurts”, you choke out.

Yuta takes you in his arm, hand covering your face from the unforgiving whipping of the wind.

“I know this is rough, but we have to hold on for a little longer. Gojo-sensei told me that the cabin is only a few minutes away”, Yuta assures you.

“He also told us to bring bathing suits with us…”, you grumble.

Do you have any other choice than to rely on Gojo’s word and Yuta’s sense of direction? Absolutely not. Your feet carry you on their own trough the snowy street, eyes glued to the ground underneath while you can’t shake the comfortable feeling of Yuta holding you in his arm away. God, let this hell end. Otherwise you’re really not sure if you’ll stay conscious within the next hour.

“There it is!”, Yuta announces.

Your eyes dart up. The last house of the street, rather a small cottage to be exact.

“That doesn’t look inhabited at all. Are you sure this is the right house?”

“We’ll have to find out! And to be honest, do we have another choice? I don’t want to spend another minute outside if I’m being honest”, Yuta replies while scratching the back of his head.

Fair enough. You follow him to the doorstep and watch him turn the key in the lock. At this point it wouldn’t be a surprise if the door doesn’t open, but it does. You enter the dark cabin.

“It’s still fucking cold”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Let’s see if there are some blankets or even better a heater.”

You can’t help but stare at the boy next to you. A few months ago he was so shy and unsure about himself. But now it seems like his confidence never wavers as well as his cool head. At the moment he’s definitely the more collected one.

You do as he told you, searched the tiny cabin for a heater only to find a small bed and one single blanket.

“It’s not much but it’s more than nothing. Go ahead, you can have the bed and blanket.”

“That’s completely out of question, Yuta. Your lips are totally blue and your whole body shivers. I’m not taking that blanket alone”, you reply, shaking your head violently.

But what is the solution, then?

“You can have it.”

After all, Yuta is the one who guided you here. You’ll get through this night somehow.

“I have an idea, but it might sound dumb…”, he begins, voice showing no sight of his new grown poise.

“Just say it”, you demand while eyeing him.

Why does his face suddenly turn even redder and why is he fumbling with his hands this nervously?

“You know, we…we could share the blanket and bed…But only if you want to and are comfortable with it!”, he blurts out.

Huh. Your heart skips a beat when the consequences of his suggestion hit you.

“So like, cuddle?”, you question with your eyes bored into him.

“Please forget I ever said that.”

“I mean, you’re kinda right. In this cold it’s better to warm each other up…”, you stutter.

Thick silence hangs in the air between you two and makes you want to go back into the blizzard. Fuck, the fact that you caught feelings for him doesn’t make this easier at all. Normally you are outspoken, self-assured and centered…What the hell happened to you? Why are you just standing there like an idiot, staring at him with your eyes wide open?

Yuta is the first who dares to move. With a swift motion, he takes off his shoes, positions himself in bed and puts the blanket on top of him.

“Then come here. Maybe we’re even able to get some sleep!”

You hesitate. This is the first time you get so close to him apart from training sessions. Yuta never touched you, let alone shared a blanket and a whole bed with you. But your body screams in icy agony and begs you to take his offer desperately. Jump over your shadow, just close your eyes and lay down beside him.

The warmth of his body seems to swallow you whole the second your body brushes against his. God, you never realized how good he actually smells. Has it always been like this? And that look in his eyes seems so…different.

“You know, I’m glad to be stuck with you, (y/n)”, he confesses, his hand sliding down your arm and leaving a trace of prickling fireworks under your skin.

Fuck it. You bury yourself against his warm and large frame, face resting on his neck while his arms immediately take your invitation. While it’s still cold, the adrenalin that rushes through your veins and the heat that radiates from his body are more than enough to keep you warm in this adventurous night.

“Me too, Yuta”, you confess shyly.

[billlydear]

SUPERNOVA - BILLY HARGROVE X READER (PART ONE)

word count: 3135 // masterlist | inbox (please request) | WIP list

Summary: max's english tutor has a black eye and a shitty alibi. billy sees right through it.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending, mentions of abuse, injuries mentioned (black eye), reader is abused by her mother just like billy is by his father

A/N: thank you for 300 followers!!! have this as a little gift from me to you <3 basic biology part three is in the works, don't worry! i just wrote this in a fit of sleep deprived passion the other night after thinking about it for a week or so and i wanted to share :) i hope you enjoy! the ending of this is pretty straightforward and, though i plan to write more parts, this can be read on its own for now.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

There’s never a good reason for Max to stomp into Billy’s room. It’s always either her demanding a ride somewhere, asking for money, or shouting at him to turn his music down. This time, though, there’s no music playing, and it’s nearing 11:00 PM, so he’s not sure why she’d need money or a ride.

He glances up at her, really more of a glare, through his eyelashes, reclined against the wall as he lounges on his bed. He’s got a magazine in hand and the pages are as boring as the cover was, but he’d rather stare at faded jet ski advertisements than read the book he’s supposed to be working on for English.

She stops just inside the doorway, jacket on and shoes laced. He narrows his eyes at her, something of a question, and she sounds just as venomous as he looks when she replies.

“I need to borrow your window.” She mutters, piercing eyes set on him.

He’s heard her say a lot of weird things since they started living together. Mom, I can’t find my left rollerskate, Why is my bra in the freezer?, and We’re not going in the theater, we’re going to sit outside and talk, have previously topped the list but this is off the charts.

“Sure, Max,” He drawls, fingers tightening against the waxy magazine paper, “Just haul it back in here when you’re done, okay?”

“You know what I mean,” She huffs, already lunging for his bed. She practically topples him in her overzealous attempt to reach the window, and he shoots a hand out to steady himself as the mattress rocks. He has half a mind to kick her onto the floor but he watches her click a flashlight open from her jacket pocket, and stares with suspicious intrigue instead.

“Come on, come on,” She huffs, clicking the light on, off, on, off, “Where is she?”

“Who?” Billy leans forwards, peering out the window into the blackened neighborhood, “Jesus, Max, don’t go shining lights into people’s windows at night, they’ll think you’re some creep trying to watch them change.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you know that from experience,” She grumbles, shoving his hand away when he tries grabbing the light.

“I’m not kidding,” Billy seethes, muscled arm coming to combat her defenses, nearly shoving her off of the end of the bed, “What are you even trying to do, anyways?”

“I’m trying to talk to my tutor,” She snaps, landing a sharp slap to his thigh that reddens the skin there, “Butt out, butthead.”

“Assface,” Billy grumbles, rubbing at the tender spot on his leg with half a mind to whack her upside the head. She ignores him completely, desperately flicking the light at a ground floor window.

“Do you really need tutoring help now?” Billy groans, the incessant clicking preventing him from what was supposed to be his before-bed relaxation.

“She wasn’t at school today,” Max explains in a huff, “Or- like, she didn’t show up at my school. She called this morning to say she was sick, but she sounded fine, and I heard someone in the parking lot say that they saw her outside her house, just sitting there, like, really late last night.”

“So she was getting some fresh air,” Billy deadpans, “Now get out of my room.”

“Would it kill you to cooperate?” Max turns to him with such a judgemental stare that Billy’s surprised he doesn’t wither away right on the spot. Hell hath no fury like a teenage girl scorned, he thinks, annoyance bubbling in his chest.

“She’s obviously not coming,” Billy reasons, his patience wearing thin after almost two minutes of flashlight nonsense, “She’s probably sleeping. She’s got the flu or something, and you’re gonna wake her up and make her even more sick. Just leave her alone, and leave me alone.”

“I’m not asking you to be a part of this!” She gushes, jaw set in a hard frown and eyes rolling when he props his elbow up on the windowsill, cheek smushed into a bored expression against his palm.

“I just want to see if she’s okay, because she doesn’t normally get sick, and I haven’t seen her window open all day, and I really think that something might be wrong, so-”

After a staggering two minutes and forty-six seconds of morse code from hell, your curtains part. Max practically lights up at the sliver of light that appears between the drapes, but when your face pops between it, her breath hitches in a gasp.

Your eye is bruised. It’s swollen shut and purple, an ugly stain that blooms down your cheek, like a rose that sticks its thorns straight into Billy’s chest. His posture, previously saggy and bored, stiffens until he’s nearly pressed against the glass, brows furrowed in horror as his lips part ever-so-slightly.

“Oh my god,” Max breathes, and you regard them both with a weary gaze.

Max lifts the lower half of Billy’s window, slipping out the gap with such agility and speed that Billy doesn’t have a chance to try to stop her before she’s already outside. He rushes to follow her, cringing as his bare feet land in damp piles of leaves.

“What happened to you?” Max runs to your window, bracing her hands on the sill.

“Nothing,” You try to smile, and it pulls at the skin around your eye, finishing the expression off with a wince, “I just- it’s silly, okay? I slipped and fell on the ice out front and I hit the stair rail on the way down. I was too embarrassed to go to school, ‘cause I knew everyone would ask, so I just called out sick. I’m sorry, Max, I know today was our day, but I’ll do double time once this heals.”

The more you ramble, the quicker you spew your pre-determined speech, the more the thorns lodge themselves in Billy’s gut. It’s familiar behavior, having an outlandish excuse at your disposal, reciting it like poetry, blaming the bruises on a misstep down the stairs rather than a rage-fueled fist. He’s done the same to countless teachers, all staring down at him with a condescending sneer, assuming he’d instigated another fight.

Max might not be well acquainted with different types of bruises - and god he hopes she never has to be - but Billy certainly is. And your black eye is not from a stair railing, he knows that. It looks the same as his does whenever Neil decides he’s in a fighting mood, and it doesn’t seem like you have the frozen peas that Billy usually medicates his marks with.

“It’s okay!” Max promises, and thankfully she commands enough of your attention to where you don’t notice Billy’s grief-stricken stare, looking for all the world like he’d been punched in the gut.

‘It’s okay, we can just meet up some other time. Or- or I can come over to your house! So you don’t have to show your face anywhere. And I won’t tell,” She insists, hands dug snugly into the pockets of her jacket, “I’m good at keeping secrets.”

So are you, Billy notes, just not to the people with the same ones.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” You frown slightly, biting the inside of your cheek, “This really hurts, and it’s kind of giving me a headache, so… might be best to just meet when it’s healed.”

“That’s fine,” Max nods, reaching up and through the window to sling her arms around your neck in a rushed hug, “Just- call me when it’s better, okay? My teacher set us this new essay, and it’s got some stupidly complicated prompt, so I need your help figuring out-”

Billy watches as your head ticks up, eyes widening slightly as you tune into the sounds of your house. He knows the look all too well, you’ve heard someone coming.

“That’s great Max,” You stammer, reaching for the window pane to close it, "I’ve gotta go!”

“-how to… write it.” She finishes, face wrinkling in confusion when you slam the window shut, yanking the curtains closed, “Feel better…”

“Go,” Billy jumps to action, hearing a raised voice from within your room, not your own, “Max, move!”

He pushes her along the side of their house, shoving her around the back until they’re out of the line of sight from your window. He peers around the corner from behind an overgrown trellis, one that lets him see you without you seeing him. He waits with bated breath, ignoring Max’s indignant protests and slamming a hand over her mouth.

She licks his palm, but he manages to stay calm and keep it there. He will smear it on her cheek later, though.

Sure enough, Billy watches your curtains fly open. There’s a woman in the window now, and you’re standing behind her, expression unreadable. Then you speak, and Billy can’t hear it. Your voice must be soft, gentle, calming. The woman barrely reacts, eyes scanning wildly for whoever you’d been talking to. But Billy keeps Max quiet, pinching her hard when she tries escaping his grip.

Billy watches the woman in your window with a hatred he’s only ever felt towards Neil. She acts the same, menacing glares and a puffed-up chest. You react just as he does, a personified tension-diffuser as you shrink in on yourself and give steady, slow answers. She’s shouting, you’re mumbling. She’s advancing, you’re backing away. She’s grabbing your wrist, forcing you close to her, and you’re squeezing your eyes shut.

Billy’s stomach churns; he can’t watch this any longer.

He herds Max to the other side of the house, keeps her restrained with one hand and pries at her window with the other. It opens smooth and easy, no squeaking that would alert their parents to their escapade.

Once they’re both inside, she flips.

“You asshole,” She huffs, “You manhandled me! You really couldn’t just let me have one nice conversation with my friend? You had to yank me away like some psychopath?”

“She wasn’t going to come back,” Billy murmurs, a glint in his eyes urging her to lower her own voice, “And she didn’t fall down the stairs. Go to sleep, Max.”

He feels a pillow hit him in the back as he strides out of her room, and each step down the hallway towards his own feels like he’s numbing from the inside out. The role reversal of his own life had been so mind-shattering, watching a scene from his household happen in real time in front of him instead of a torturous memory in his nightmares.

By the time he reaches his room, his fingers are too numb to shut the door. He kicks it closed instead, staring out of the still-opened window to watch your own. The curtains are drawn again, shutting you off from the world.

He stands there staring for what feels like seconds, but is probably minutes with the way his brain is warping his thoughts. Abuse felt so lonely, it was a soundproof room with padded walls, but they stung like hot coals when his dad came stomping in to shove him up against them. His family, his safe space, his padded room, came with the irony of only existing alongside pain, fear, and anxiety. And knowing there was an identical room beside his for god knows how long, thick layers of insulation drowning out each of your cries and blocking out each other’s existence, makes him sick.

His eye stings with the residual image of your own, a feeling he knows all too well. His hand, on instinct, tingles with a cold sort of sensation, the same that he got from grabbing the ice-covered peas out of the freezer.

He’s off to the kitchen in a hurry, feet padding carefully across the floor so as not to alert anyone of his presence. The biggest challenge is opening the freezer door quietly, but he’s a pro at it by now. He takes the peas back to his room, but this time he doesn’t curl up in his bed with them pressed to his eye, he clutches them tightly and heads for the window.

Max’s flashlight is discarded on the sill, and he wraps it in his free fist. He clicks it on cautiously, testing the sound to see how it echoes in the empty space between your house and his. It’s not obnoxiously loud, hopefully no one can hear it.

He flashes it against your window, only for a second, then ducks beneath the sill. He waits, expecting an explosion of sound as your mother reaches out to grab him. But nothing happens, so he straightens up to his full height. The wind nips at his bare arms, goosebumps erupting over the skin not covered by his muscle tank. He waves the flashlight once more at your window, covering it with his thumb to flash it instead of clicking the button rapidly. 

He hears shuffling from inside, then silence. Then shuffling again, a little closer, and silence. Then more shuffling, and the routine continues until he hears your fingers scrape at the window pane.

You duck under the curtains this time, easier to slip back inside and shut the window instead of drawing the curtains, “Max, I can’t-”

Billy doesn’t know what to say when your eye catches him. He blinks, once, twice, three times, watching as your anxious eyes rove over him. Only then does he register the chill in his hand, the peas.

“Here,” He murmurs, voice soft and slightly raspy, as he holds the package out to you, “Ten minutes, then turn the package around, then ten more minutes. And if it’s still icy, do it over again.”

You take the peas because you have to, because he’s pressing the cold package into your hand. Your fingers wrap around it and you peer curiously at the image on the front, only glancing back up at him when he shifts in his stance, leaves crushed beneath his feet.

“The package rustles,” He warns you, “Be careful. Don’t get caught.”

“I won’t,” You finally murmur, breaking your stunned silence, “I- Uh, thank you. It’s.. Billy, right?”

“Yeah,” He breathes, nodding once. He’s half aware that his curls aren’t exactly perfect like they typically are, because nodding sends one of them tumbling into his eyesight over his forehead, “That’s me.”

“Y/N,” You mumble, and this time even Billy hears the heavy footfalls in your hallway. They set you on edge again, and he yanks his fingers back from the windowsill so that you can snap it shut, “I gotta go.”

“Bye,” He whispers, voice lost to the night as he stands outside your window. He ducks beneath the sill again, where your mom can’t see him if she decides to search the premises. He doesn’t hear anything from your room, though, and he takes it as a good sign when the footsteps retreat. Then he hears the soft crunch of the package of peas, muffled beneath what he assumes is your blanket as bed springs creak from within.

His eyes snap shut at the sound, envisioning you curled up beneath your comforter, hugging the bag of peas to your bruise. It’s a position that feels so natural to him he almost replicates it, back slumped against the siding of your house. The rustling stops; you got yourself settled.

Only then does he move, climbing back through his window and shutting it for the night. He can’t sleep, though, eyes drifting towards your window from his seat on his bed. He watches, he waits, he stares until his eyes sting, every second that passes a blessing for the lack of commotion it causes. When he does fall asleep it’s after the upstairs lights of your house have shut off, because only then is it over, only then is it safe. He sleeps in solidarity with you, knowing that the click of the lightswitch puts you at ease just like it does him; if there's someone else awake, it’s not safe to sleep. He’ll wake up tomorrow morning with a stiff neck from sleeping up against the wall, but his eyes will flutter open and the first thing he’ll see is your window, hopefully open to showcase peace inside.

Never in his life has he felt connected to someone his age. That’s what abuse does, that’s what Neil does. He isolates Billy, keeping him under his thumb so the boy can’t escape his clutches. But now there’s a glimmer of hope right next door. Hope, he supposes, isn’t the right word. A muddy black eye isn’t hopeful. It is, though, when it’s matching his own, when your scars and bruises line up with each other’s to map out constellations of torture. He wants to chart them, find out where the patterns are, spit out the stories behind them.

He’s spent enough time stargazing his own past, picking a new ball of fire each night to examine. To pick apart, to wish he’d have acted differently in, to regret. Now there’s a whole other sky mere feet away from him, and he yearns to chart it, to explore its patterns in the desperate hope of finding companionship. Oh, that cluster? A missed curfew. That bright one? Backtalk.

He’s always felt like a potential supernova. Like one day, all of the hurt, rage, and despair inside of him is going to burst forth in an explosion of color, blood and guts paired with anguish and heartache. 

And now, knowing there’s another ticking time bomb beside him, two panes of glass separating the two dying stars, he has hope. Maybe it’s morbid, to want to explode in tandem. To seek connection in even destruction. All Billy knows is that if he can’t get out, he’ll die.

He thinks about it for a moment; getting out. Shooting across the galaxy, hurtling over the inky black sky until the swirling black hole that is Neil Hargrove can’t suck him in anymore. Landing somewhere where he burns bright without the threat of explosion. 

And for the first time since that vision began, he sees two stars. One yours and one his, twin flames, both rocketing towards a safe corner of the universe, one where no one else can dim your glow. 

Billy knows right then and there, he has to get to know you. He’s never tried making real friends, never wants to get close enough to have to reveal that Daddy hits him and Mommy - New Mommy - doesn’t care. But you’re the same as him, a dimming star puttering along with the desperate hope of migrating instead of exploding. And if you can feed off of each other’s light, merge into one, he knows you’ll be strong enough to escape together, to go out without a bang.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

[mitchellpete]

Firsts

summary: You’re bad at playing hard to get, and you don’t want to let the opportunity slip. Maverick gives you your first motorcycle ride.

pairing: pete “maverick” mitchell x gn!reader

tags/warnings: maverick being flirty, shy!reader but also not really?, some drinking mentioned, overall fluff

word count: 1.4k

A/N: i feel terrible that i keep making excuses not to post so i'll let you guys have this one. i don't know who's still on top gun tumblr but i hope you guys are still around. and that you guys like this! it was supposed to be a drabble but..?? ANDDD one more thing: my request page has updated also!

-

“Wait, you’ve never been on a bike before?”

“I’ve been on a bike. I’ve never been on a motorcycle.”

Maverick scoffs and then cocks a brow, a smirk tugging at his lips in his frail attempt at reading you, or at least pretending he knew you.

Except he doesn’t, because out of the many outings at the bar, tonight had been the first time he’d spotted you. You were ashamed to admit that it was kind of flattering having him follow you around for a good half an hour, even after you locked eyes with mustache Hawaiian shirt blonde guy across the room. Ah, it was all a game. But God, was Maverick pretty. And charming. You couldn’t decide whether you were bad at playing hard to get or if you simply didn’t mind being the game.

(It was definitely the former.)

Panic filled you later that night when you watched him slip his jacket on on the opposite side of the room. He was still distractedly rambling with his friend, however, and you took the opportunity to push past at least 5 people and make it out of the door before he did. 

What to say or do the moment he stepped out? Your head was empty. But hey, he’d see you out there, make another flirtatious comment, make you blush and then it’d go on from there, right? God, please. 

This had to have been like the fourth time you’d seen him. He was most certainly the prettiest out of all the aviators that confidently waltzed into the bar every time you and your friend met for drinks. 

Miramar. A lovely place, truly. 

Beautiful, too. The sunset is beginning to form, and you step towards the wooden fence separating the sand from the small parking lot in front of the building. A packed bar, only a few vehicles. You wonder if any of them belong to Maverick. You pray that he walks this way at all.

The beach in front of you is littered with people, families, couples. There is chatter everywhere, drowning out the sound of the bell on the door behind you, or the sound of his voice if he happens to be walking out, talking to his friend.

That’s why when you eventually zone out maybe a good ten minutes later, you don’t notice that he’s already walked past you, striding towards the vehicle closest to you. The motorcycle. Red, black, adorned with decals that match the patches on his pretty jacket. You wish you’d noticed. 

He’d certainly noticed you, watching you avoid his gaze as he swung a leg over and took a seat. “Going for a swim?”

FUCK.

Tongue in your cheek, you meet his eyes. “No. I.. needed some air. Where’s your friend?”

“Where’s yours?” A cheeky smile spread on his face as he reached for the handles. 

Oh, he’s sooooooo—

“Inside. I’m uh, actually waiting for another friend right now. She’s picking me up soon, I think.” Lies, lies, lies.

“In a car?” 

“On a motorcycle, actually. How fast does yours go?” Jesus Christ. You know nothing about motorcycles, by the way.

He leans slightly forward, intrigued by your response. “Faster.”

“Hm.” You glance out at the shoreline again, at the sun turning bright orange. You feel the warmth on your cheeks. Stupid. You’re playing hard to get again, for fuck’s sake. He’s too pretty, it makes you nervous. 

Lucky for you, he breaks the tense feeling in your stomach with a laugh. “Actually?” 

He sticks the key into the ignition, filling you with the slight panic from before that he’s slipping away.

You fake a snicker, although it comes out dry and humorless. “I’m kidding. I don’t know a thing about motorcycles.”

The sudden rev of the engine startles you, and he smiles. “Some people are just meant to look pretty on the back of ‘em, I think.”

There was already a warmth to your cheeks, but now it’s heat. “Well.. that sounds like fun.”

Furrowed brows. “Wait, you’ve never been on a bike before?”

You snicker again, this time for real. “I’ve been on a bike. I’ve never been on a motorcycle.”

Maverick scoffs and then cocks a brow, a smirk tugging at his lips in his frail attempt at reading you, or at least pretending he knew you. Playfully rolling his eyes, he revs the engine again and waves you over with his hand. “Come on.”

Your face falls. A different kind of panic. “Huh?”

“Just a quick ride. Before your friend gets here.”

“A-are you sure?” 

“You’re scared?” He grins.

“I—No. I just..” You hesitantly make your way over, your legs suddenly weak. “I drank a little, so I don’t—”

“Can you relax?” He laughs again, his laughter as pretty as he is. “It’s not scary, I promise. Here, step on that part. Just hold onto me and hop on.” He points down below and then sticks his arm out for you to grab.

“I’m not scared,” you mumble as you manage to perch yourself on the space behind him, careful not to grip his arm too tight. “I think you’re a little strange, is all.”

 “How so? You gotta hold onto me, sweetheart.” Another engine rev. What is his deal?

You lean forward as much as you can, pressing yourself to him and wrapping your arms around his middle. The seat behind his is slightly raised, and your face absentmindedly presses into the back crook of his neck. It’s too late to pull back when you realize, and the heat in your cheeks starts to burn. Nevertheless, you go through with your accusations.

“Well,” you begin, conscious of your voice as to not be loud in his ear. “You follow me around the bar for some stupid bet, and.. now you’ve forced me onto your bike.”

Ha. As if you hadn’t planned all of this. Sort of.

Another pretty laugh. “It’s a motorcycle,” he mocks you. 

That gets a laugh out of you, squeezing your arms around him a bit as he starts to move. 

“Although, I do have to say—” He halts, a foot firm on the ground, and turns to look you over his shoulder. “Out of anybody I’ve followed around the bar, you’re the only one I’d give a ride to.”

God. You think you’re already in love with him. “That so?”

He presses his lips together and nods, fake serious. 

Pressing your forehead to the back of his jacket, you chuckle. “I guess that means I owe you something.”

“I’ll start driving on one condition,” he offers, his tone playful.

“Hm?”

“Give me a kiss.”

Oh boy. It’s easy by now; you’re already melting into him. Glancing up, your surroundings become a blur and all the outside chatter, the bell on the door and the sound of the other cars go completely silent as you lean your neck to reach. It’s a peck, but it’s complete; all of your lips feel the soft skin of his cheek, plump from a smile under your kiss. And then your chin goes to rest on his shoulder, and next thing you know, you’re off. 

There’s suddenly wind; you weren’t prepared for your hair to flow, as he took off from the parking lot and immediately down the road.

You’re clinging onto him with all your might, maybe a little scared for a moment, but then it starts to feel nice. You don’t even recall the moment he’d slipped his aviators on; perhaps the little kiss you gave him left you in awe instead of vice-versa, or maybe it was the drinks you’d had earlier? Maverick says something but you barely hear it, your stomach fluttering in excitement as he swerves between cars to get out of their way, to fly by beyond them on the road and to make the moment about just the two of you. Nobody else on the road. 

He turns onto a different road, this one longer and less crowded, and you squeal as he starts going faster. A euphoric feeling overtakes you, and even in the wind, through the sound of the engine and Maverick’s muffled voice, you’re convinced you can’t let him slip away after this one either. 

“Maverick!”

Wind, wind, wind. The engine.

Tapping a hand on his side instead, you catch his attention. He slows down just a bit, momentarily glancing over his shoulder again before looking back at the road. 

“You wanna stop?” he yells.

“No!” you shout back. “I just wanted you to know something!”

“What is it?!”

You lean closer to his ear, face in the crook of his neck again. “I was lying! There is no friend!”

He grins. “I know!”

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Six

Paul and Linda: walk in. Me: Panics in bisexual

He’s so weird. He’s been carrying her purse, gives it back, then tries to change his mind again and the look she gives him. ‘You’re very cute, but I can carry my shit.’ 

But the “Linda’s a cameraman.” Rare Paul feminism moment. Slow clap.

And then instantly, “I’d better go and put in some piano practice.” You fucking addict. Linda, what are you getting yourself into, girly?

“Actually, we’re going on a farm in Scotland.” “I’d love to find a . . . a farm.” I wonder at what point he showed it to her. So far, they’ve done the dirty weekend in LA, Christmas in Liverpool and Portugal, a stay in New York, and now London. Have they done the Mull of Kintyre at this point? Oh, boy. Today might be the Paul and Linda show for me, folks :/

Why does she look like a loving mom watching her daughter’s dance audition? 

Paul taking Mal’s advice on “Standing” VS “Waiting” 

“I feel the most relaxed around Ring.” Linda/Paul/Ringo threesome fic when?

Ringo again with the EXCELLENT taste in jackets. That blue is So pretty. With the black velvet collar. Immaculate. 

“There’s enough obstacles without putting them in the song” is the most Paul quote ever. It’s like his artistic mission statement. The surface read of Paul’s songs is that they’re just these weightless, meaningless, pretty nothings. But the real read (part of) is that they’re meant as comforters, bolsterers, flashlights, and silver linings. 

He does love a good pair of hands, doesn’t he?

He really is showing off for her, though, here. When Linda hasn’t been here, has Paul ever just sat down at the piano and run through all his new songs? Not even close. And it’s so immature and so lovely.

“It was like a comedy, when I heard it.” Proceeds to sing some of the most heavy, blue lyrics. The above comment on Paul’s music notwithstanding, I must admit there are also extreme levels of emotional repression going on. 

“Castle of the King of the Birds”!!!!!!! First of all, who is the "king of the birds" if not Paul McCartney? It’s so extremely beautiful. Achingly so. When I fist heard it, I was like “where have I heard that before?” and when Peter Jackson pointed out that it’s the Top Gun theme? How many songs out there are actually Paul McCartney’s illegitimate children? Like, be Lennon/McCartney with me, for a minute here, and translate this sexual metaphor into musical terms. Paul just jerks it a bit, and before he can even finish, about ten people are pregnant from a drop of his precum and ten magical star children are born who he has no idea of. Does that make any kind of sense at all to anyone?

Honestly love the political version of get back. And clearly so does Yoko. That’s the most I’ve seen her get into a song they’ve written, like, ever. Hey, guys. I have an idea. Maybe you should ask the actual immigrant for ideas on your pro-immigration song. Just a thought. 

 When you’re trying to flirt with your new GF but your ex keeps making you giggle

A vignette of Lennon/McCartney’s writing process. Paul: trying to make up some lyrics. John: makes a joke lyric. Paul: puts it in and it works better than what he had. John: 

John: I’ll be taking me shirt off. Paul: definitely not picturing it at all

Okay but my hot take is that the first two verses at least of “Came in through the bathroom window” are a diss track at Jane. Seriously though, it’s got to be one of my many underrated favs to come out of these sessions. Also, they’re so in love doing this one, my heart can’t take it. 

“This isn’t daddy’s tea, is it?” And Yoko just, without skipping a beat, says, “No.” Girl, I know he’s the one calling you mommy in bed, don’t lie. 

It’s the mutual caring of it all, you know? How he’s sitting in her lap while playing with her hair. How he makes her laugh and she buries her face in his tummy. Gosh, she’s gonna love that tummy for almost thirty years. And while the breakup is heartbreaking, isn’t that lovely to think about? 

George, you should’ve made a Bob Dylan cover album. He sounds sooo pretty. 

Ah, yes. The “Just Let it Be, love. He’s not going to leave you.” Dream Song. Which John does not look enthusiastic about. And then it becomes “Well, you said he wouldn’t leave me, mama. But, you know, he went and did it.”

Peter Jackson, WHERE is that Linda/Yoko dish session audio, you absolute monster! Those are Not small-talk faces. Would I rather listen to what they’ve got to say than hear one of the twentieth century’s greatest masterpieces come to be? Yes. Yes, I would.

[babyhatesreality]

Hi there love!

I know you know who I am by that sentence and I could ask this without being anonymous but I don’t feel comfortable doing that I think you’ll understand why after reading this…

Okay so, recently I posted a fic who was asked about one of daddies waking up little reader with kisses on her 🐱 ect, you know what I mean ?

And I just had some hate about that because people didn’t read the warnings nor the warnings tags which made me really insecure and it also made me feel bad about all kind of things.

I don’t regret posting it because I love pleasing people in posting their requests but it just made me feel.. low, you know ?

And I wanted to know if you would be comfortable about writing a fic for me ?

I let you write whatever you want, let your mind flies but I just want to see in the fics lots of fluff by daddies, comfort, kisses, I need the reader to feel really little because I need to feel little right now and because of the hate I don’t know how

Thank you so much for even considering it, love! You’re an amazing writer and I know I already told you that but I tell you again now. Your fics are amazing and it always make me feel good

I love you!

Kisses,

Anonymous 💜

My love. I got you <3

Sparkle

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x little f! reader

Warnings: DDLG (SSC), f! reader, nicknames, reader is named but name scarcely used, sad baby, means internet words, angst, comfort, fluffity fluff fluff fluff.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. 

You shouldn't have gone onto the computer without your daddies. You always regretted it, and today was definitely no exception. But you'd been bored and forgotten.

You'd seen the stupid click-bait article but had been unable to resist. The lies, the insinuations, the straight up nastiness from people who had never met your daddies, let alone you, was astounding. That people felt it was okay to be this mean, this condescending, this nasty about someone else, while they were sitting pretty, safely behind their crumb-filled keyboards. You didn't want to think about it. But it kept drilling its way into your mind.

You tried everything to take your mind off it- watching Tangled, playing with Jellybean, coloring, drawing, building Legos, but nothing was working. You finally crawled into your closet, buried yourself under a blanket, and cried.

When Steve and Bucky came home, they were unnerved to find that their precious hyperactive angel didn't come running to greet them. They found you pretty quickly, getting you out from the closet and holding you close. They'd seen the iPad on your bed, and from a brief search history figured out the trigger pretty quickly.

Steve held you so tight in his arms, after wrapping your favorite yellow blanket around you. He rested his cheek on the top of your head and murmured soft things into your ear.

"Baby, you know what you read isn't true. These people don't know us or you. They are being mean because they think they are allowed to have a say in our lives. But that's wrong. They don't get a say. It only matters what you say, what I say, what Daddy says. And Daddy and I love you so much that we don't ever, EVER, want to be apart from you. We know that you're the best thing that ever happened to us. You make us so happy. You make so many people so happy, and that's just by being you. We don't want anyone else, and we don't want things to change. We love the way you sparkle."

As Steve was holding you, Bucky was making one of your favorite comfort meals- grilled cheese with tomato soup. You all had an impromptu picnic on the living room floor. Steve transferred you to Bucky's lap so he could spend some time reassuring you. He gently fed you bites of the sandwich and spoonfuls of soup.

"Papa is right, you know," Bucky said, wiping the tiniest bit of soup off your chin, before feeding you another bite of sandwich. "You're our best girl, baby. There's no one else, there never will be anyone else. And anyone who thinks that we're all wrong, never mattered in the first place. They don't get to decide our lives. They don't have any power over us at all. And they never will. You keep sparkling on, just like you always have. Okay?"

When you gave a shy, soft smile and a nod in return, they smiled their best Daddy and Papa smiles at you. Neither one of them put you down for the rest of the night except at bath time, and even then they always had one hand on you. You got to eat cookies in bed with them while they read your two stories each.

And you realized- your sparkle is what makes you unique. The way you laugh, and play, and giggle, and create- that's what they loved about you. And absolutely no one could take that away. You were- and would always be- loved for your sparkle.

[fentibeauty]

━ 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐮𝐭.

summary- you walk in your dorm with a serious limp after dance practice. your roommate and girlfriend notices and offers to help by stretching you out.

a/n- this randomly popped up in my head while i was listening to brent and i had to write it down before i forgot it lol. otw to my cruise so this may be the last fic i write until next month lord

warnings- mentions of sexual activity , profanity, shuri being an amazing girlfriend. shuri also being a little sneaky thang.

tags— @melodykisses @shuris-whore @saturnville @haechvn @ppawmpkin @cherios @vargskelegore @angeliquebones @szalipcombo @shurireigns @rxcently (comment if you wanna be in tag list)

*. * · ݈ hbcu! shuri ✗ black!reader *. * ·

you unlocked the door and slowly limped into your dorm. your girlfriend shuri was laying on her head reading a book she has to write a report on.

with small groans you made it to your bed with a loud “hmph.” shuri put her book down, “are you okay, my love?” there was a tone of humor in her question.

“everything hurts.” you mumble. even though what you said was a bit incoherent, shuri was able to hear you. “why does everything hurt? you’re a pro at dancing. you do everything with no effort.” she asked as she got up from bed and sat on yours.

shuri started to rub your legs, “do you need help?” she asked quietly. “how are you going to help me, ri?” shuri got on her knees and positioned herself in front of you.

“let me stretch you out.”

“let me stretch you out.”

you won’t lie, when those words left shuri’s mouth your mind took a left and thought of other thinks you knew she wasn’t referring to at the moment. shuri soon caught on and held a sly smirk before laughing. “not in that way, you nasty girl.”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you smiled. shuri let out an amused scoff and looked down at your legs.

“okay, let’s see what we’re working with here, shall we?”

shuri was now between your legs, started off by using the pit of her hands to massage your thighs. you let out a noise of discomfort but also relief. shuri looked down at you, the face you had on your face reminded her of previous events.

“this position is fairly familiar, no?” shuri teased as she continued with what she was doing.

“but i was the one with my mind in the gutter.” you commented. shuri let out a smile laugh.

she rubbed over this one particular spot that was the most tender causing, what sounded like a moan leave your lips. you realized it was a bit too much for shuri when she paused her movements.

“oh, i’m sorry. it slipped out.” you let her know, shuri looked into your eyes before continuing, it seemed as though she was fighting something within her. “no need to apologize, love.”

shuri then grabbed the pit of your knees and spreaded your legs apart. you winced and hissed in pain, “it feels like you’re hurting me on purpose.” you whined.

“never love, you’re just very tense i can feel it in your muscles.”

shuri got closer, and made herself taller. she looked down at your crouch before looking back at you with a smirk. “shuri! be focused.”

“so very sorry, i can’t help it. she’s looking right at me. she wanted to say hello.” she tried to reason. “oh please, it seemed like you want to say hello.” you looked up at her with your legs still in the air; in her hands.

“i do want to say hello.” she leaned down and became face to face with your pussy, “hello, good to see you again.” she joked as she left a kiss on the top of it making you squirm just a bit.

“will you stop??!” your cheeks heated up, even with your chocolate skin, shuri could still tell you were blushing. “distracted aren’t i. that’s just what you do to me.”

shuri watched you once more, “god i love your thighs baby.” she complimented. you were indeed a very thick girl, you grew up with your greens and cornbread. it was bound to happen!

as you walked around campus with shuri, people wondered how shuri could handle someone like you. the girls you danced with swore you would break shuri as easy as a twig but they were wrong.

most nights after sex, you would be the one limping and needing to be rejuvenated. shuri on the other hand would be just fine.

shuri is definitely stronger than most people think but that’s not any of their business, they can think what they want to think.

anyway.

shuri bent your legs back as much as you allowed it. your legs very much did go to your head and boy was shuri amazed. “jesus, you are so damn flexible.” she gazed at how she had you folded like a pretzel.

shuri couldn’t help it, she couldn’t.

she brought her front and pressed it against yours. “oops.” her tone with two octaves deeper. you knew shuri wouldn’t be able to control herself.

“s-shuri.” you said in a warning tone, yes you were sore but you’ll never decline any sexy time with your lover. “sh, sh. let’s continue.” she went on like nothing happened.

she put one of your legs down and focused on one leg. she straightened it and bent it back. another moan left your mouth, this time it was far more clearer to shuri’s ears. she tucked her bottom lip and stared directly into your eyes.

“okay yeah, maybe we should stop before i make you sorer than what you are now.” she was deadass.

shuri was dead fucking ass.

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

(Saw someone do this and decided it seemed fun~

link to my ao3 here)

How many works do you have on AO3?

85.

What's your total AO3 word count?

915,568 words~

 What fandoms do you write for?

Currently it’s for Helios Rising Heroes, Hypnosis Mic, Obey Me, Paradox Live, and Twisted Wonderland!

I’ve previously written for A3!, Ace Attorney, Ace of Diamond, Borderlands, Bungou Stray Dogs, Free!, Fire Emblem Three Houses, Fire Force, Gorillaz, Hero Academia, Kuroko no Basuke, Magi, Naruto, Red Dead Redemption, Run with the Wind, RWBY, Shokugeki no Souma, Stardew Valley, Tokyo Ghoul

Top five fics by kudos?

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes [Twisted Wonderland] – 6,298

We’d Be a Hit Together [Haikyuu!!] – 6,211

Super Powered Love [My Hero Academia] – 5,436

A Devil’s Bride [Obey Me!] – 3,583

I Need Love [Hypnosis Mic] – 1,928

Do you respond to comments?

I try to! I always read and appreciate comments made on my posts, on AO3 and Tumblr, I always check to see if someone has tagged it with commentary <3

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

To be fair I hurt Malleus with the whole ‘you’re likely someone with a shorter lifespan’ idea constantly, but The Brightest Star was definitely a sadder one from my KNB days.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of them because I truly hate unhappy endings. You can probably tell just from how I write that I try to put a positive spin on things, but I am trying to just let the angst happen or leave things off with ambiguity rather than specifying that a character only seems to feel a certain way when they’re actually feeling something else entirely.

Do you get hate on fics?

Occasionally. I remember getting this angry message about me being a feminist because I made the reader like dom Hanamiya from KNB and they were MAAAAD about it lmao I also remember being on fanfic dot net and getting argued with and I just sent the brady bunch theme song over and over until they stopped messaging me back

Do you write smut?

I do! Not the biggest fan of it honestly because I never feel like it’s half as sexy as the things I read other people write, but I do get in moods and with certain characters they just need to be manhandled a lil, you know?

Craziest crossover?

I have never written a crossover in my LIFE

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Awhile back I did but I was told about it and the story was quickly taken down, I think it was on Wattpad or something like that.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have! I’ve gotten a handful of requests for my more popular ones to get translated, I don’t mind at all!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I mean I’m co-writing a book with the other admin on this blog, so does that count?

All time favorite ship?

Me and all my lil husbands.

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I was writing this Criminal Minds fanfic that I had all plotted out, dramatic quotes at the beginning of episodes already picked, but I don’t think I’ll ever bother focusing on it.

What are your writing strengths?

I would say characterization is my strength! The characters are the best parts of fanfics after all and I always try to do research on the characters I write; if they’re ones I don’t know as well I’ll scan the wiki and read extra stories with them in it just to get a better handle on them! It’s why when there’s characters that haven’t been around long enough or don’t have a lot of content translated for them that I don’t like writing for them because I need at least something to go off of, I don’t want to have to make up their personality myself

What are your writing weaknesses?

Details. Which is a horrible thing to say as a writer, but I do feel like my writing lacks details here and there. Like with dialogue, I’ve been trying to write more in-between actions while the characters are talking since most people aren’t just standing still, especially if a character was doing something before another person entered the room. Descriptions of the world around the characters

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I don’t like using google translate but I do have characters I love who speak other languages. Those heinous Hetalia days where you’d randomly put a word into the middle of an otherwise english sentence… they haunt me. But what I try to do with Citron from A3 is write some of his dialogue in parentheses to show he’s speaking in a language that the reader might not understand, and I feel like that works a little better for someone who doesn’t speak anything but english to do for the sake of not butchering another language.

First fandom you wrote in?

I truly wish I knew. I know I wrote for Naruto back in the day, and The Outsiders was one of the first full length fics I did. But that was back on Quizilla which has since turned to dust. I was also on Lunaescence for a while, whose creators have also turned to dust apparently. What a world

Favourite fic you've written?

It’s hard to pic just one when most of my fics are like, stand-alone short little things. But I think one I’m very fond of (which was written for the other admin so it explains why I put so much effort into it) was Snowy Mountain Getaway, which was a FE3H Dimitri/Reader College AU fic.

[mistysconcilium]

murder halloween.ᐟ house

day 4 of seven days of halloween .ᐟ 👻

pairing - ghost!violet harmon x ghost!reader

synopsis - you and violet decorate murder house for halloween

tags - one shot • fluff • slight angst • present tense • english is not my first language • not proof read

୨୧ note - i waited until the last minute to write this so it is a bit rushed and maybe not well written lol. i’ll proofread it later! idk if this counts as a drabble or one shot bc it is short but im just gonna call it a one shot bc there is different ‘scenes’

carved pumpkins and spooky decor lined the street outside. every house on the street was decorated for the holiday, except for one, the one that you were stuck in for eternity.

alot of your days in murder house are spent like this, staring out the windows watching the people live their lives.

“what are you thinking about?” violet hugs you from behind and puts her chin on your shoulder.

“just thinking”

“about halloween?” violet always has a way of knowing what you’re thinking. it’s like she can read your mind, she is able to read every thought and emotion.

“yeah” you pause for a moment, “everyone on the street is decorating for it but we can’t, cause y’know we’re dead”

“i mean there might be some decor in the house somewhere” she turns you around “there should at least be something we could decorate the house with”

- ఇ -

since most people who have lived in the house don’t make it out alive, most of their stuff is still in the house packed away somewhere. which is why violet convinced you to go up to the attic to see if there was some halloween decor.

“violet i don't know about this” your brows are knitted in worry. even though you have been dead here for a while you have never dared to go to the attic.

“don’t worry nothing will happen. what are you scared about? ghosts?” violet chuckles

the attic is full of all different kinds of boxes with a lot of dust on top.

“i think i found something” you say as you dig through one of the boxes.

the box, which is marked with a drawn-on pumpkin, is full with halloween decor. everything from some fall themed garlands, to fake cobwebs and skeletons

“great let’s bring it downstairs!”

- ఇ -

you start decorating in one of the living rooms on the first floor and then you move further into the house. since there wasn’t that much decorations in the box you decided to only decorate the rooms that’s used the most.

currently, you and violet are in the kitchen placing different ceramic pumpkins decorations on the table and the counter.

“i noticed you decorating for halloween” moira had appeared out of the blue “ and so i gathered some leaves for you to decorate with” she hands you a bag filled with red, orange, and yellow leaves.

“thank you moira!” you open the bag and starts placing the leaves in a pattern on the kitchen table.

- ఇ -

you’re sitting in one of the rooms that you decorated with violet laying in your lap.

“i can’t wait for halloween”

“why’s that?” you twirl a lock of violets hair in your fingers

“because then i can finally take you on a real date and not just in this fucking shithole” she laughs

“wait what do you mean?”

“ cause every halloween we ghost get to leave this property and do whatever we want”

violet looks up at you when you don’t respond

“what didn’t you know”

“uhhh no!” she chuckles at your response

“well since it’s your first halloween since you died i think we need to make it special” she sits up and pulls you in for a kiss.

you reciprocate the kiss and nuzzle your hands in her hair.

love, elisabet <3

reblogs and comments are always appreciated . ᐟ

tags; @angel-decoy @purple-cinematic @fear-is-truth @d3adarling

dividers by @/strangerpraphics