#thank god she’s knows every thought that runs through my mind already so it’s not like she’ll see anything new lol

[iloveyoumorethansoup]

My girlfriend knows my tumblr now🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

[untitledgf-pdf]

"casual"

part one

summary: "casual" situationship with ellie but you want more (inspired by casual by chappel roan ;p)

warnings: light nsfw, no angst (yet;)), ellie is kind of a player (typical masc behaviour /hj)

word count: 1.9k

a/n: i tried writing this for so long but i've been struggling so pls be kind and bare with me. i'm planning either two or three parts for this mini series. this first part is kind of just setting up the beginning of how it all spirals, so it's a lot shorter than i anticipated. the smut is subpar and for that i apologize.

requests are always open and welcomed so don't be shy!!

you didn't know the storm that would come of ellie williams.

there you stood, begrudgingly, leaned against the counter of this fuck ass bar that your friend dragged you to. you continuously sipped on your drink in attempt to drown out the noise of the shitty band playing and your friend's swooning.

"aren't they so good?"

"uh-huh."

"he is so cute..."

"mm..."

lame song followed by another hard listen, you couldn't help but pray to every god in the sky to please just stop this fucking music. to no avail, the band kept playing and your friend giggled and squealed beside you for another fifteen minutes until they finally announced their final song.

with a quiet breath of relief, you gulped down the rest of your drink, setting the empty glass on the counter for a bartender to take away.

"how'd you meet this drummer again?" you questioned your friend.

"we went to college together! can you believe they've been playing together since high school?" she exclaimed proudly.

and they still suck this fucking much?

"no... i cannot." you murmur.

the final note of the music rang through the speakers and the group set their instruments down, shuffling off the small stage.

"i'm going to get another drink." you call to your friend, likely lost in the chatter of the crowd as she saunters off to her new boy toy.

waiting for a bartender to take notice of your patronage, you glance over to your friend, happily chatting with the company of the band.

"what can i get you?"

you turn your attention back to the bartender, and suddenly every thought in your mind replaced by those green eyes. those damn fucking eyes.

you blink before quickly regaining your composure. "can i get-"

glancing over your shoulder at your friend one last time, maybe a drink just wasn't enough.

"can i get... 3 tequila shots?"

a smirk on her lips before she turns her back to you. the bartender turns back around, three shot glasses neatly lined up in front of you. bottle squeezed between her index and middle finger, a thin stream of liquor filled the glasses.

forfeiting your card, she plucks it from your fingers. in the time it takes her to run your card, all four and a half ounces of liquor have already slid down your throat, warming your chest. she turns back around, her gaze dropping to the once again empty glasses in front of her. a quiet chuckle graces her lips.

"you didn't like the show?"

you hesitate. "it's... not really my kind of music."

she smirks, offering you your card back. "yeah, you don't look like you'd be into shitty bands."

another soft chuckle from you. you reach out to take your card back, taking note of the tattoo that wrapped her forearm.

"i like your tattoo..." you murmur, taking your card back.

another smirk. "thanks."

a small tug on your arm snaps your attention from the one good thing that came of the night. "there you are..." a warm smile from your friend.

you return the gesture. "i told you i was getting another drink."

a small pout on her lips. "oh. well come say hi!" she tugs on your arm again, pulling you away from the bar and to the company of the band you had no interest of spending the next two hours with.

you count the seconds passing between forced laughs. time couldn't move any slower, and the conversation was almost as awful as the music they played. another half an hour passed and you felt yourself reaching your limit.

"hey, i'm going to step outside for a sec." you inform your friend before making your way out into the chill night.

a quiet breath of relief escapes your mouth as you lean against the wall. taking out a cigarette, you wrap your lips around the tip, flicking your lighter against the end. furrowing your eyebrows in frustration, you huff.

"come on..." you mumble, watching as the lighter sparks and sparks, taunting you.

you feel a soft nudge against your arm. glancing over, you see the bartender from earlier, cigarette in mouth and lighter in hand.

slowly, you lower your hand as she flicks the lighter on, the small flame lighting the end of your cigarette. you take a deep inhale before turning your head and releasing the smoke from your lungs.

"thanks." you offer her a small smile which she returns.

"you looked like you needed it."

you let out a small laugh before releasing a small sigh. "you have no idea."

she chuckles and takes her own puff. you two stand together in silence for a few moments. maybe it was the buzz of the nicotine inspiring you to be friendly, or maybe the tequila was finally starting to run its course, but a surge of bravery flew through your veins right to your mouth.

"what kind of music do i look like i listen to?"

"hm?" she raises her eyebrows in surprise.

fuck.

you chuckle nervously. "earlier, when you said that i didn't look like i'd be into shitty music. what music do i look like i'd be into?"

she smirks, green eyes scanning you up and down from your ribbon clad hair all the way down to your platform mary janes. "...heavy metal?"

you laugh, tilting your head back. "oh, fuck off."

she snickers and shrugs. "i dunno, appearances can be deceiving."

"that's really your best guess?"

"hey, i gave it my best shot."

"yeah, right." you giggle before taking another drag.

"what about me?"

you glance over at her, smiling lightly. "you definitely seem like... a country girl."

she snorts. "oh, wow."

"lifted pickup and all."

she laughs, crinkles at the corners of her eyes. "you callin' me a hick?"

"maybe." you smile and shrug. "appearances can be deceiving."

she laughs softly, shaking her head. "oh, man." she takes another drag of her cigarette, chuckling softly as she exhales. "you're funny..."

and then the tequila took over from there.

"you think that's good? you should hear my number..."

another laugh from her and you felt your chest swell. "lucky you're cute because that line was awful." and then you were putting your number in her phone.

"couldn't have been that bad if it worked."

"touché."

flicking the cigarette to the ground, you smothered the butt against the sole of your shoe. "don't leave me waiting too long for a text."

"no promises."

the rest of your night after that was a blur. you woke up the next day graced by a raging headache to accompany your hangover. but that wasn't all the night left you with.

<<unknown>>

did i leave you waiting too long?

maybe there is a god out there.

i think you have the wrong number

<<hot bartender>>

oh i'm sorry

i thought you liked my jokes :(

<<hot bartender>>

fuck you. i thought you gave me a fake number

i couldn't help myself

<<hot bartender>>

low hanging fruit

how can i make it up to you?

<<hot bartender>>

head?

<<hot bartender>>

sorry my cat ran across my keyboard

that is one freaky cat

<<hot bartender>>

haha

<<hot bartender>>

wyd?

i've got a hot date with this hangover

<<hot bartender>>

come over

<<hot bartender>>

i've got the perfect cure

you blinked and suddenly you were in her apartment, on her couch, her head buried in your thighs.

insatiable hunger, her tongue licking and slurping as much of your essence as she can find. and there was plenty.

an array on moans left your lips as you tangled your fingers in her hair. you could practically feel her smirk against your cunt as her tongue swirled your puffy clit. a soft whimper in response.

"mm..." she moans into your heat, her hungry lips gently kissing your clit. "you're the damn best metalhead i've ever tasted..."

you can't help but giggle. "shut up..."

she grins wickedly, her lips wrapping around your pretty nub, sucking needlessly to draw another loud moan from you. her nimble fingers slip into you, granting a loud gasp from you.

"yeah... that's it." a sloppy kiss to your clit as her fingers curl up into your velvety core.

you throw your head back on to the arm rest, her mouth stimulating your bundle of nerves and fingers scratching that itch buried inside.

"fuck, ells..." you moan softly, feeling the pit grow in your stomach.

ellie chuckles, her fingers pumping harder. "i told you..." she murmurs, her mouth worshipping your clit once again. "i'm the perfect hangover cure."

your moans only increase in intensity as her mouth resumes its course, accompanying the rhythm of her fingers thrusting inside you. ellie uses her free hand to gently squeeze the meat of your thighs, lifting your leg to rest against her shoulder as she dives her face further into you.

"'m going to drown in this pussy..." ellie murmurs. "i can't get enough."

her nose brushes up against her clit which erupts in an audible reaction from you. this only causes ellie to work her mouth and fingers not only faster, but harder against you.

following the movements of her work, the once small knot in your stomach grows stronger and stronger. your grip on her hair tightens, moans growing louder by the second. you prayed she didn't have thin walls because you had entirely lost control of your actions in the very present moment.

"c'mon... give me what i want." ellie coos. "i want this pretty pussy to sing for me..."

and then you lost it. shrieking in pleasure, the knot finally snapped. ellie's eyes flashed with delight, quickly pulling her fingers out as she desperately lapped up every drop of your release she could find, wanting to savour every single taste of you.

you pant heavily, staring up at her ceiling. ellie smirks, licking off the last drops of your from her fingers before hovering above your face.

you look up at her, coming down from the skies, your ears ringing from the intensity of your orgasm. ellie leans down, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.

"perfect cure..." she murmurs.

you chuckle softly, still panting. "yeah... perfect cure."

crawling off you, ellie gently slides your bunched up panties up your legs, back over your hips. you sit up, collecting your clothes thrown to the ground, slowly pulling the fabrics back over your body.

ellie gently squeezes your thigh. "we should do this more often."

"did i really taste that good?"

"yes."

you laugh, shaking your head. "how about you take me out first and then i'll let you fuck me again."

ellie winces slightly which causes you to furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"what?" you question.

"no it's just-i'm not really good at the whole 'dating' thing."

"...oh."

"don't get me wrong-i'm definitely into you. i just... don't really like the pressures and bullshit with labelling it and everything."

you pause for a moment.

this is definitely a red flag right? i should run out of here right now while i have the chance.

ellie notices your confliction and places a hand on your knee. her green eyes catch your gaze and she gives you a soft smile.

big mistake.

"i like you. you're fun and nice to talk to and i want to see you again. i just think... maybe we should keep things casual for now. no expectations, no attachment... just feel things out."

you let out a quiet breath before hesitantly nodding. "yeah, okay. casual."

@seraphicsentences (2 years later i finally post again)

[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.”

[wyvernest]

Oh my god I saw your requests were open and I love eveything you write<33

I See many fics where Miguel is the one who is jealous, but what if the tables turned and the reader is the one who is jealous, maybe she’s a civilian and she feels like he’d be better of with a spider person who understands his work better? I’d love to see him feel sad that his love feels that way can you tell I like pain lol

Thank you so so much<33 wishing you all the best for your exam! I’m sure you’ll do amazing!

shameless

pairing: bf!miguel x f!civilian!reader

warnings: jealousy, fluff, suggestiveness, public display of affection

summary: you're worried that miguel might be better off with a spider-person, but he is eager to reassure you (and everyone else) that you're more than enough

a/n:thank you and i hope you like it! im thinking of making a part 2 with balcony sex above nueva york let me know if yall would want it<3

divider by @cafekitsune

You are aware of the so called disadvantages of him being your boyfriend.

He is handsome, no doubt. But that means a lot more than being able to watch him work around the HQ, swinging your legs and wondering how you landed him.

It means having unfamiliar eyes linger over him more than you'd be able to tolerate. Flirty looks and remarks thrown at him like he's magnetic, regardless of everyone knowing he's with you.

Even walking through the glassy hallways and cloud scratching towers of Spider Society is a stab in the heart. 

Noticing all the single spider-women look him up and down, eyelids heavy with the seconds that passed as they unabashedly stared at his physique; his broad back, the bulky arms and toned thighs, at the way the muscles underneath his suit rippled with every heavy step he took, not letting his weight drop lazily on each foot but rather walking with the energetic strength of a man with insane stamina.

You couldn't stop a venomous surge of anxiety mixed with the most sour amount of jealousy from dripping into your nerves as you met their gazes, seeing how beautiful and charismatic they all were.

How agile and gracious they were, swinging by just to blow Miguel a fleeting kiss.

And you certainly couldn't stop wondering if he'd be better off with one of them. One of his kind. One that would be able to swing alongside him, to practise with him, to accompany him.

One that would understand him better than perhaps you ever could.

You know he loves you, or else you wouldn't be together. But the idea that he maybe even once looked at all the women lining up for him and thought they'd be interesting to try is gutting you out.

And he starts noticing it.

Of course.

He isn't oblivious to how you straightened your back or curled your arms around his when another spider woman passed you with flirty looks or remarks. How you'd shut down and become awfully quiet when you two would get home following one of these encounters.

He couldn't bear to see you unhappy. Some of the times he even felt the sharp sting of guilt poking into his heart, knowing that he was the reason others were upsetting you.

More so, your bond.

You are heading towards his lab at HQ, walking beside him, heart pounding intermittently with anxiety and bubbling anger. Eyes darting around you swiftly, like those of a feral feline making sure no other animal is preparing to jump her and snatch her food from her.

Suddenly, two flowy silhouettes shoot mile long webs far up into a tunnel bridge, only to drop down and swing right past you and Miguel. 

Purring out a simultaneous "¡Hola, Miguel! Looking good today!", reaching their hands down to him while boasting perfect balance with their webs tied to their ankles, they disappear into the distanced skyscrapers of Nueva York, with echoing giddy laughters.

Miguel doesn't move his head in their direction, already way too familiar with such interactions, and already too interested in hearing only one particular ¡Hola, Miguel! - yours.

Only your focus isn't on him. Your mind is running wild with how talented they seemed to be, how flexible and enticing. Already imagining him, playfully swinging with them, his force and precision perfectly matching their grace and melodic rhythm.

A dance you could never participate in.

What you also fail to see is the frown on his face as he turns to you, intrigued and finally ready to catch you off guard.

"¿Qué pasó, amor?" (What happened, love?) He leaned into you, dragging you by your arm to stop you behind a glass pillar. 

You're hauled out of your reverie, eyes widening in panic as you think of something less pathetic and embarrassing to say than the truth.

"Hm? Nothing, I just think they're nice to look at." You motion with your head the direction the two women swung in, clarifying. "Everytime you bring me here, it's all so … breathtaking." You internally wince at the excuse, pulling the best poker face you could muster.

He takes a deep breath, annoyed but patient.

"You know you can tell me anything." He assures you, voice low and whispered so as not to embarrass you in front of the spiders passing by. He is aware that the place isn't the most fitting for the conversation, but any other time he'd tried to coax it out of you, you dismissed it with a "It's nothing. I'm just feeling off today."

Truth be told, he had his suspicions. He is by no means unacquainted with the ways of women, and without a single condescending bone in his body when it came to you, he wants you to spit it out so you could talk about it. So he could untangle the knots in your heart, the doubts about him and your relationship.

"I know." You reply shortly, something in you dying to snap out and tell him everything, but instead, you shut it down at the last moment and decided to leave it at that.

"Then why don't you?" He looms over you, unintentionally, but you start to feel utterly cornered. Your heart is drumming out of your chest, and you are more than certain he can at least hear it. His face reveals his disappointment, however hopeful and attentive he wants to seem.

And just like that, your fronts break down.

"I'm - Don't get me wrong," you trail off, not looking him in the eye. You feel his warm breath fan over your forehead, getting dizzy from the sudden proximity. "I love this place. All the work you put into it.." Your eyes meet his for a fleeting second. "But sometimes it reminds me of how different I am.", You pause, waiting for a response. When he doesn't interrupt, you continue, "How I don't fit in,... here, beside you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" He looks almost pissed, as if you had told him he doesn't fit in. As if he was the one that didn't fit you.

"I mean I'm not … them. I'm not a spider."

"I'm aware of that." he retorts, ironically. "When did that stop me from loving you?". His tone is scolding. He is trying to maintain an unaffected demeanor so you would keep talking, but inside, his heart cracks at your words.

Your face heats up, surprised.

"It's not that." You have to actively stop yourself from leaning into his body and hiding into the warmth of his embrace, so that maybe all the jealousy and worry will wash away. But he deserves an explanation, now that you've admitted your feelings. "They know a side of you that I can only imagine. How it feels to be…like you."

His face softens, full of love and pity.

"I'm the odd one out here." You spit out, frustrated with his silence. "I can't give you everything they can!"

"I don't want what they have." He answers quickly, sincerely. You find it hard to believe, even though he's never lied to you.

To you, he's perfect. He deserves everything. Everything he could get.

And you're not enough.

"Escúchame." (Listen to me) He leans closer into you, his breath hot on your face. "Estoy enamorado de ti." (I'm in love with you.) "I only need you to be happy." 

You finally meet his gaze, full of consideration and fondness. You pray to whatever god hears you that he means it, because you're too far gone in your love for him to go back now.

"What will it take for you to just relax and stop being jealous, hm?" He whispers, smugly and amused. It's clear that he's flattered with your sentiments and possessiveness, but wants to nonetheless fix your issues.

You feel yourself getting immersed into the scent of him, his body heat radiating onto yours. You don't quite know the answer yourself. He grabs your waist right above your hips, sending shivers up your spine. Pulling you closer to him, he moves his head to your ear.

"What if I kissed you right here, right now? Let everyone know that I love you, and only you."

Miguel was very clearly overjoyed with the excuse to show you some public affection, especially if it meant having you so flustered and pliant beneath him.

"Would that make you feel better? Knowing they'll be the jealous ones now?"

You nod, more or less consciously, lifting yourself up on your tiptoes almost reflexively.

His warm and eager hands on your waist strengthen their grip, lifting you further up against his body as your feet lose contact with the ground, your chest meeting his. His lips are soft and tender against yours, dancing in a slow, passionate kiss. With your eyes still closed, you hear a few gasps near you in the hall; some happily amused, some offended.

But you don't care. All you care about right now is how he's tilting your head to the side with one of his palms at the back of your neck, slipping his tongue into your mouth and deepening the kiss. 

You continue to make out without a care in the world, just for the whole Spider Society to receive a much needed reminder that Miguel O'Hara is taken. 

His hands knead the supple flesh of your lower back, making your hum softly into his mouth, your own arms curling around his neck in a vicious hold.

When you least expect it, you feel one hand descend swiftly, leaving you no time to react as he grabs at your ass hard, so hard you jolt up against him, eyes snapping open in shock.

Without moving his hand, he presses his nose to your pulse point, exhales sultry on the sensitive skin.

"I have another idea."

[idanceuntilidie]

I have no idea- I was thinking about this yesterday and today in the end I wrote it

chaos chaos enjoy and Im gonna go shower and mir mir don’t commit crimes when Im gone

Tw: slightly suggestive themes, yandere behaviour

Yandere classmate x male reader

Requests are open.

You know where to find me And I know where to look

They boy hummed, his fingers gently playing with your hair. It felt like the finest silk; just like he imagined. A small smile appears on his face,

You were so blissfully unaware, sleeping like a baby and missing out on lectures again.

He twirled the lock of your hair before cutting it off. His smile widened, admiring it, another part of you that he can add to his collection. 

He never thought that he could find a boy attractive, but here you were, blissfully unaware of him watching your every step.

You stole his heart, ripped it out of his chest. Still beating, for you.

He laid his head next to yours, and closed his eyes. Your scent enveloping his senses as he slowly drifted to sleep. 

The bell rang.

You sit up, mind still half awake, you stretch. 

Your eyes widen as you realize the class is already empty. You quickly stand up, swaying a bit due to not being fully awake. Wiping off the droll, you pack your things, you hear a soft click and when you look up you see one of the most popular boys standing in front of you, phone in hand and smiling. His pale blue eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Hi hun! Look how cute you look in this photo!”

He chirped, waving the phone in front of you.

He fucking took a photo of you.

„Celeste delete it!” You desperately lunged at him to get his phone, you failed. He stumbled back and thanks to stupid luck he dodged your attack.

Celeste giggled like a child, correcting his sweater.

“Celeste I beg you! Fucking delete the photo” you begged, eyes glossing over.

“Only if you give me a biiiig kiss” he clapped his hands.

Your face twisted into a grimace, you tried to see if the two of his friends came with him to record this. You couldn’t really see them, but it didn’t mean that they couldn’t be here.

“.. Go fuck yourself.”

You grabbed your bag and rushed out of the classroom.

Celeste huffed as he watched you run out of the classroom.

He sat on the nearby desk, unlocking his phone.

Celeste scrolled through the new photos of you. His pale face dusting with pink, a shy smile formed on his lips. Too easy. He added the photos to his wide collection.

Scrolling through the photos, his smile widens. Some of them are blurry but Celeste doesn’t mind, every photo he takes of you is perfect in every aspect.

He sighs, he wanted that kiss. He bought the cherry flavored chapstick for nothing.

You walked through the halls and checked your bag. Few things were missing from your bag, you must have forgotten them somewhere.

You lost too much of your stuff already, you can’t believe you started being so forgetful.

At least Celeste didn’t follow you.

Finally you found a safe corner and sat down. 

Running your hand through your hair you notice some of it is shorter than the rest.

You curse under your breath. Goddamn it, you feel like you are in elementary school all over again.

“Y/N?”

“Marceline oh my God thank Gods you are here I-“

„Listen, we can’t be friends anymore.” she interrupts you.

You look at her in disbelief. She didn’t even look at you, she played with her fingers. Her back hair covered her face and you couldn’t make out the expression.

Your mouth opened, to say something, anything but nothing came out. You felt hurt, betrayed. Marceline didn’t budge for a bit, you could feel her stare on you. Unfocused, hot and burning.

You felt dizzy, this was too much.

Marceline, seeing you had nothing to say, muttered a small apology and walked away.

You didn’t even have the energy to go and run after her.

You felt tears build up. You sniffed and hid your face in your arms.

Celeste grabbed Marceline's hand, she looked at him with pure hatred.

“He is crying because of you”

“Hm, no, he is crying because of you, because you wanted to save your ass” he says, giving him a painfully obvious fake smile.

Marceline felt her blood boil. She roughly pulled her hand away and before storming off he heard her yell insults at him.

Celeste smiled and waved at her, he pulled out his phone and stopped the recording. He will edit it later, it could be useful.

He slowly walked to you, you were crying eh? Man, he needs to take some photos! And God, if he could find your used tissues. Celeste felt his face get hot at the mere thought.

When he finally reached you, he thanked whatever was out there. That you didn’t notice him.

You were such a mess, sitting on the floor sobbing. It was all thanks to him, he smiled widely. His breath had gotten heavy, he rubbed his thighs together and took out his phone. Time for a few new photos.

[inkykeiji]

say you’ll love me to death, cause i will

character: todoroki touya | dabi x fem!reader

genre: smut

notes: alright, so we’ve discussed how touya-nii would react to encountering the man who took your virginity, but let's talk about how you would respond to running into the woman who took touya’s. set in my touya-nii au! as always please heed the warnings and stay safe! | title credit: RUNRUNRUN by dutch melrose

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudocest (stepcest), public sex, minimal prep, extreme jealousy, toxic relationship

words: 4.7k

synopsis:

“Well, that’s alright! How long have you two been together?”  And, oh, the giggle that bubbles past your lips is downright sinister, fucking caustic, burning your tongue and eroding your teeth.  No, you’re not his girlfriend, or his partner, or his significant other.  You’re something so much better. 

You’re off minding your own business, legs swinging idly on a bar stool as you wait for your designated reservation time, when it happens, when she appears. 

“Touya?”

The name cuts through the blurred noise of the restaurant, both yours and Touya’s attention snapping to the source: a woman, late twenties or so, waving a little in indication on the other side of the bar. 

She’s snaking through the patchy crowd, busy unfastening her hair from the intricate bun its been woven into—a requisite for all the waitresses at this establishment—eyes bright, smile brighter. 

You don’t even know who she is; not technically, anyway, had never thought to press the issue any further than a simple how’d it happen, had never cared enough to try—especially not when he had been sleeping with so many others right in front of you. 

It hadn’t seemed to matter much then. Not the way it matters now.

But she exists, because she must, because somebody would’ve had to take it, would’ve had to be the first, one way or another.

Doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

She’s pretty, but you wouldn’t expect any less. Touya stands as she reaches the two of you, pulling your body up with him.

But then Touya greets her, a name you’ve heard kicked around every now and then, and it all fully, finally clicks. 

Touya’s first. 

“Oh my God,” she’s gushing, “I haven’t seen you in—What’s it been now? Over ten years?” 

“Just about,” he responds easily, readjusting his grasp reassuringly on your hip as you cling to him, large palm flattening against your abdomen and hugging you closer to his side, tucked protectively beneath his arm.

“What are the chances! You look...” her eyes scan his body once, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, then back up again, and your fingers flex, coiled and rigid in the material of his shirt, stiff joints already aching. “Wow, incredible!”

“Thanks,” Touya says, an awkward lull in the conversation when he doesn’t repay the compliment. 

Their discussion meanders for a little bit—how have you been, what are you doing now, remember when...?—most of it muddled by the blood roaring in your ears and jealousy burning in your throat. 

But then her fingertip is just barely grazing his forearm as she points in indication at the ink etched into his skin, and your ears tune into their frequency again, white-hot fury slicing through hazy envy.

“I remember when you started this one,” she’s reminiscing. “You finally finished all of the pieces,” she says with another appreciative glance, and you grip him tighter, the skin of your knuckles pulled so taut it’s starting to hurt. “It’s so breathtaking to see them all come together.”

And you hate the way she speaks to him with a certain type of familiarity; an old friend, effortless and full of laughs, someone who knew him long before you did, when you were only in grade school.  

God, how rude of her not to introduce herself, she’s telling you as she finally turns toward you, finally takes notice of you, rooted in Touya’s side; a growth he planted there himself, shoved between his ribs and engrained in his soul, roots so tangled you’re both irremovable, inseparable, now.

She holds out her hand in greeting, but you only clutch Touya more firmly, nails scraping against starched cashmere, face half-hidden in his chest, childish and petulant. 

The woman’s smile drops from her face, a slow drooping of her mouth as her forehead crinkles, confusion bleeding through her features.

“She’s shy,” Touya says as way of explanation, but that wolfish smile is stretched sharply across his cheeks, teeth gleaming in the dim light.

“I see,” she says, almost hesitantly, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before they flit back to Touya’s face, expression brightening again. “Well, that’s alright! How long have you two been together?” 

And, oh, the giggle that bubbles past your lips is downright sinister, fucking caustic, burning your tongue and eroding your teeth. 

No, you’re not his girlfriend, or his partner, or his significant other. 

You’re something so much better. 

“Oh, we’re not a couple. This is my little sister.” 

And, oh, how this is always your favourite part.  

You know that it’s his favourite part, too. 

Because the way that shock and disgust eats through their confusion, fucking devours any other emotion on their face, is better than anything else in the entire world. The way their expression churns into something twisted and repulsed sends sordid little thrills racing through your veins, blood buzzing with adrenaline.

The two of you must be such a fucking sight, expressions handcrafted by the Devil himself,  with glowing eyes—gluttonous gazes gobbling up every little expression, two pairs wide and  frantic as they glide across her face—and smug little smirks, points of your mouths so sharp they could pierce the flesh of a fingertip if touched. 

Her voice sputters a little, snagging in her throat as she struggles to find the proper words, blinking rapidly, as if trying to clear the scene in front of her. 

“I—Uh, I didn’t know you had another little sister?” 

It’s phrased as a question, her voice beginning to tremble, unnerved as her stare swaps between your faces.

“My mom remarried,” Touya says simply. “This one came packaged with the deal.” 

He jostles you in his arms a little—showing off his favourite, precious, most coveted prize—and you cuddle into him, burrowing into his chest a little, fingers flexing in his dress shirt as you clutch him tighter, gathering healthy handfuls of cashmere in your scrunched palms, buttons beginning to strain beneath the strength of your grip. 

And he states it proudly, as if he’s glad to own you, to be your big brother, to call you his, staring down at you with so much fondness it melts his hard eyes, sapphire turned to something thick and gooey.

“Oh,” the woman responds, but her voice wavers through a wobbly smile on her face, lips unsure if they want to grin or grimace. “That’s cool.” 

“Yeah,” Touya responds, though his eyes do not leave yours, voice softening. “I got pretty fuckin’ lucky. Don’t think I could’ve asked for anything better.” 

You can feel the sick, sadistic glee radiating off of him in dense waves—something heavy, something intoxicating—and, if this girl knows him well enough, you’re sure she can, too. 

It’s so thick it’s nearly suffocating, but you breathe it in readily, greedily, draw it into your lungs and let it marinate in your tissues—infect, consume, decay. 

“We should go for drinks sometime!” her unnaturally chipper tone snaps the trance, draws both of your gazes back to her. “You know, to catch up and all that.”  

A noise shudders your ribs, something between a growl and a whine, and Touya laughs as if it’s so fucking cute, looking back down at you with so much adoration in his eyes it’s nearly spilling past his lashes.  

“Nah, I’m good,” he says, but his stare never breaks yours. “Thanks for the offer, though.” 

“Mr. Todoroki?” a smooth voice floats above the indistinct murmur of the venue. “Your table is ready.” 

“Ah, that’s us,” Touya says to you. 

“It was nice—”

But you’re already turning away, a single entity in the way you move, think, breathe, be. 

“I don’t like her,” you’re grumbling as Touya guides you toward the hostess, not caring that she’s still very clearly in earshot, the confession spilling from your mouth almost subconsciously, having pried past your lips, desperate to be heard. 

“I can tell, baby,” Touya snorts, though the smile on his face is soft. 

“I—I don’t even wanna eat here anymore,” you sulk, feet starting to drag, words filtered through a deep pout. “And I don’t ever want to see her again!” 

It comes out as a demand, a little harsher and firmer than you had intended, uncharacteristically surly, and Touya stops. 

Blinking down at you, Touya’s face falls, features suddenly serious, all mirth evaporated from his expression in an instant. 

His head dips, voice dropped to a low, dire murmur—something secret, something just for you.

“You want me to kill her for you? Huh, princess? Does niichan need to get rid of her?” 

And, oh, how your heart soars, swells, swoops then nearly bursts from your ribs, desperate to claw its way from your chest and into the palms of its owner. Tears rush to cloud your eyes, vision thick and bleary, and two large hands cup your jaw, tilting your face to his.

“I’ll do it, baby, I swear to God. All you gotta do is say the word.” 

He will. You know he will. You love that he will.

“I love you,” you nearly whimper, hands pawing at him urgently, the words a garbled mess in your mouth, weighted with spit and tears. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he laughs a little, but concern is warping his features, eyes sweeping across your face in search of an answer.

His hand squeezes your jaw gently, callouses decorating the pad of his palm scuffing your soft skin as he holds you in place. 

“Just tell niichan what he needs to do to make this better.”

Your gaze holds his for a moment, heavy and unblinking.

“Fuck me,” you finally say. “Remind me who I belong to, remind me who you belong to, remind the whole fucking world who we belong to.”

Sapphire turns to navy, lips spreading into something sinful. 

He can do that.

The parking lot is sparsely populated, rows of cars jagged and gapped like knocked out teeth. A small cluster of people hover outside the restaurant’s golden doors, encased in a hazy cloud of smoke and murmuring quietly amongst themselves, and a few people are scattered throughout the lot, just arriving or preparing to leave, but for the most part, you are alone. 

The Audi is parked near the back, narrowly missing a pool of white light from one of the tall lampposts. 

A chuckle is huffed from tattooed lips, shining eyes trained on your profile as you march toward the car, his long legs easily keeping up with your own. 

His baby is on a mission tonight. 

“You know, it’s really cute,” he’s saying as he presses you up against the driver’s door, “to see to see you so fucking determined.”

“Want everyone to know you belong to me,” you whine a little, forehead scrunching as your pout deepens. 

“Is that so?” 

“That is so.” 

“And how would you like to show everyone that niichan is yours?” he murmurs into your flesh, lips tracing the curve of your neck.

“Want—Want you to fuck me, right here.” 

“Right here?” his hips shove against yours in emphasis. “In the car?” 

“No,” your hips push back into his, back arching, already so needy for him. “Right here, in the parking lot. I want that bitch to see.”

And for once, you do not get scolded for such foul language. 

“Yeah?” Touya’s breathing into your mouth, hands already rucking up your little cocktail dress. “All out in the open where everyone can see how much of a little whore you are for your big brother?” 

“Right here, right here,” you’re nodding, words cracking with desperation. “Right now.” 

“So greedy, my little sister is.” 

“I don’t care,” you gasp. “Show them, Touya-nii, show them all.” 

And he’s so fucking hard you swear you can feel his cock throbbing with each rush of blood, each of your little pleads and dirty words sending another bout of it southward, swear you can feel it twitching and gorging with lust. 

“You don’t care, huh?” Hardened fingertips sink into the plush flesh of your ass, kneading a little as his hips gyrate in pitiful little circles, more teasing than anything else.

“No, no,” you’re shaking your head. “I want it now!” 

A palm collides with your flesh, hard and sharp, the sound echoing out among the space, chased by your resounding yelp. It draws a handful of glances from the throngs of people loitering around the restaurant’s entrance, but doesn’t keep their attention for long.

“Don’t be impatient, now,” Touya warns, but the glint in his eyes begs you to keep misbehaving. “Get my cock wet first.”

Your face falls as your fight fades, a small frown on your lips. 

“Wh-What?”

“You want my cock so badly, baby? Get it fucking wet, then.”

He pauses, watching you closely, smirk growing into something sinister when you freeze in hesitation.

“Aw, what’s wrong?” he pouts, and it’s so condescending it scathes your cheeks. “Not so bold and brave now? I thought you wanted everyone to know; I thought you wanted to show everyone who I belong to,” his tongue tuts, head shaking in mock disappointment, “and you can’t even take my cock down your throat?”

“I do,” you nearly growl, eyes flashing with sudden jealousy, uncharacteristically fierce. 

His expression softens, that sharp glint in his eye dulled to a smoldering glow, full of fondness. 

“Then get niichan’s cock wet,” he says, hips shoving against yours in emphasis again, “so he can fuck you properly.”

And although it is still very much a demand, a direct order, his voice is tender, his edges worn down by years of affection.

Sliding down his body, your fingers furl in the waistband of his suit pants and tug a little, pulling his hips closer to your face. The buckle of his belt clanks heavily as you tug it undone, the button on his trousers pops easily, and then you’re yanking them halfway down his thighs, freeing his cock.

It’s so fucking pretty, dusty pink from base to tip and smoother than the most expensive velvet, and you just can’t help but nuzzle your cheek into the head with a cute little hum, smearing a thick stroke of pearlescent pre-cum across your skin. 

But you know that Touya doesn’t like that, no matter how beautiful you look with his pre-cum slathered all over your face, that Touya can’t stand anything he deems even remotely teasing, and you’re quick to wrap a hand around the shaft as the beginnings of a growl rumble against his ribs, feeding him to yourself. 

“S’it, there you go,” he praises as you gorge on him, stuffing him down your throat in a single swallow, reflexive tears burning your eyes. 

Lashes flutter quickly, desperate to clear your vision, little drops of crystal collecting in the wispy strands. 

It’s pathetic, really, how much your heart soars with such bland praise. But it doesn’t matter, you don’t care, willing to soak up any scraps he’ll afford you, an addict endlessly chasing a fix.

You force your mouth open wider, hinges of your jaw stretching, straining, your tongue curling around the underside as you suck him in further, viscous globs of drool already beginning to collect at the corners of your lips. 

“Yeah, yeah, swallow me whole, baby,” he breathes, gaping pupils glittering with a thin ring of cobalt. “God, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this.”

A choked little whine, muted by his cockhead grinding itself into your throat, vibrates, evoking a cracked little moan of his own, hips twitching involuntarily, an instinctual reaction, searching for more.

The asphalt is rough against your knees, skinning them with superficial little scrapes as Touya fucks your mouth a few times; first slowly, breath huffed out through spit-slicked lips as he glides in steadily, inch by inch, voracious eyes watching as your wet mouth puckers around his shaft, coating it in thick, gleaming saliva.

He whimpers a little as the tip of your nose scrunches so cutely as he presses it to his pubic bone, holds it for a breath and savours the way your throat flutters with hiccups and gags before pulling nearly all the way from your mouth, repeating the process as he gains momentum; then faster, harder, cockhead rubbing against the back of your tongue, each quick stroke leaving bitter streaks of pre-cum.

And you hate how his palms are pressed against your ears, muffling every sweet sound you manage to elicit from him as he holds your head still, his thumbs pressing into your cheekbones, nails biting shallow crescents into the skin as they dig deeper, grasp tightening as your face becomes slippery with tears, cascading over his knuckles. 

Even so, his grip isn’t enough to keep the back of your skull from banging off the door of the Audi, each thrust procuring a dull thud of flesh against metal.

And, Christ, what a beautiful symphony it all creates; the rhythmic sound of your head thwacking against his car, the dainty jingle of his belt buckle, hanging heavy and undone and bouncing between your chin and his thigh, those precious gags and gurgles and sniffles and hiccups that he loves so much, choked off and snuffed out as his cock rams them back into your chest, the half-stifled sounds that keep shattering to pieces on his tongue, shards swallowed down with difficulty, scraping against the walls of his throat and leaving his voice ragged and raw. 

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” he’s panting as his fingers thread through your hair, fisting at the roots and dragging you off of him. “S’a shame, because you look so pretty,” a rough thumb skims over your swollen, glossy lip, his gaze following its trajectory. “But I wanna cum in your cunt, not your throat.” 

And then he’s pulling you back up from the ground, strong arms wedged beneath your own and hoisting you into the air, your legs instinctually wrapping around his waist, locked securely at the ankles as they hook together at the base of his spine, thighs squeezing around his hips in anticipation. 

He pins you to the metal of the Audi, one palm securely cupping your ass as the other wraps around the base of his cock, hips inching back just enough to find your hole.

The head, now slicked with your spit, glides over your clit twice—a cheeky little tease, just to hear you whine his name again, all stringy and petulant through a swollen pout—then down your slit until it catches on your hole. 

It stings as he forces himself into you, always does no matter how wet you are, no matter how much you’ve slobbered all over his shaft, because Touya routinely refuses to prep you at all—not that you would’ve let him, not tonight—because he loves it, too, he loves it just as much as you do. 

He loves the sharp little hiss pushed through the gaps of your teeth by your tongue, he loves the gentle fluttering of your cunt as your most delicate skin stretches, splits itself open for him, to suck him in and swallow him down, he loves that sweet sigh that melts from your mouth as he bottoms out, slathered over his own huff of breath, conjoined relief. 

“Touya-nii, Touya-nii,” you’re whimpering out, fingers curling against his shoulders.

“M’here, baby, m’here,” he pants out, forehead pushing against your own, eyes slipped shut. 

And for a moment everything is still, breath held stagnant in swelling lungs as you both savour this feeling—of fullness, of closeness, of wholeness—appreciation unhindered by noisy exhales or slapping skin.

Then his hips are moving, gyrating in little circles that gain speed with each completed motion, cockhead grinding into your cervix.

He can’t exactly fuck you properly like this, can’t exactly fuck you like he wants to, like he normally would, not all out in the open like this.

But he manages to make do, the pace quick right from the start, shallow fast snaps of his hips that have the buckle of his belt is clanging against his car, leaving superficial little scratches just below the door handle.

It’s all still so fucking hot, though, his forehead pressed tightly to yours as he exhales nicotine-tinged breath across your face, each one pushed from his chest with the rapid little ruts of his hips. 

It’s all so fucking naughty, fucking out in the open where anyone who’s paying more than a shred of attention can see, his movements just barely hidden by the flesh of your thighs, cushioning his hips. 

The thought that anyone could be watching, touching themselves, filming you has your muscles tightening and your stomachs fluttering, the dirty, illicit nature inspiring another rush of adrenaline to taint your blood.

Your mouth drops open, starved for more of him—never satisfied, are you, greedy lil thing—welcoming his huffs onto your tongue, spicy and sweet as hickory. Your tongue unfurls from your mouth, dumb and lazy and so fucking messy, licking at his lips in quick, uneven strokes, sopping up any remnants of his essence.

The tip slithers between his parted lips, kittenishly lapping at the edges of his teeth, tracing the sharp ridges one by one, and he laughs, warm and airy. 

His own tongue shoves against yours, pushing it from his mouth and back into it’s rightful home before he flattens the slick muscle against your face and drags it, slow and steady, from the point of you chin to the tip of your nose, leaving behind a thick, fat trail of cooling saliva painted across your face.

The action has you squealing, scrunching up your nose as you involuntarily suck your bottom lip between your teeth and suck it clean.

His scent is strong, now saturating your skin as it dries, tight and hard, on your face, sealed by the breathless little giggle he exhales across your cheeks. 

And, Christ, he’s so fucking gorgeous, strands of alabaster plastered to his forehead and stuck to his temples in scraggly strings, clumped into damp little tufts that curl up at the base of his neck, drops of sweat balancing precariously on the points. 

His rough, quick movements have them breaking free, glistening drops of sweat rolling down his puckered skin, tracing the curve of his neck, streaking ink and ivory with glimmering little trails. They pool in the dips of his collarbones and soak into the collar of his shirt, turning cashmere translucent. 

The sleek muscles in his forearms flex beneath inked skin, gliding as he readjusts his grip, holds you closer, hugs you tighter, fucks you harder. 

His whole body is covered in a sheen layer of sweat, urgently chasing that high that only his little sister can gift him, sharp pistons of his hips keeping you pinned to the car while he uses you as his personal little toy, his favourite little toy, forcing you to just take it. 

And yet, despite it all, his eyes are bright, his lips molded into a brilliant smile, a sick sort of love stained with exhilaration—the thrill of getting caught: fucking all out in the open, fucking your family—brimming in his gaze.

He’s such a fucking pro, knows you and your body better than anyone else ever has, ever could, ever will, angling his hips so they fuck you just right, each stroke of his cock an upward curve, dragging against that puffy spot buried deep within your cunt, head swiping against your cervix with each draw back.

Across the lot, that girl is fiddling with the keys to her shitty little car, rooting around for something in her bag, and Touya laughs—a loud, booming sound, heavy with deranged delight that echoes throughout the space, garnering the attention of a smattering of bystanders. 

“Look,” he nudges his head to the right, your gaze following his own, slippery cheeks pressed flush together. “She’s watching. She can see you, sweetheart—can see us, can see you’re mine and I’m yours.” 

Good. If she hadn’t already figured it out before, it should be abundantly fucking obvious now, who he belongs to. 

“She—She looks disgusted,” you snicker. 

Even from several meters away, she does, you can tell, face twisted up somewhere between horror and shock, eyes wide and unblinking as they scan your conjoined forms, brow scrunched and chest beginning to heave.

She looks like she’s going to be sick.

You hope she is.

“Oh, she doesn’t even know—fuck—the half of it, does she?” Touya keens, hips faltering for just a moment before regaining their momentum. “Why don’t we give her something to really be repulsed by?” 

Yes, yes, yes, you’re nodding your head, little mewls of affirmation spilling from your throat.

“Give your big brother a kiss, then.” 

And oh, how eager you are, ever his good girl, ever his best girl, arms tightening around his neck as you pull yourself closer, smashing your lips to his. Dainty fingers thread through the hair at the back of his scalp, soaked with salt, and tug harshly, enough to have a reactionary hiss slipping through his teeth. 

Using the opportunity, you suck his bottom lip into your mouth between your teeth, clamp down hard and yank backwards, so hard his lip stretches like shimmering, pink bubblegum, gums beginning to strain until it finally slides free of your hold, teeth scraping against flesh. He spits out a curse, muddled and chased by a laugh, tongue laving over the indents you left, now weeping copper.

“Niichan’s gonna get you back for that one,” he says, sadistic glee shimmering in his eyes almost as pretty as the crimson glazing his mouth. 

You’re sure he will, too, later tonight, with that cherished knife you gifted him last year.

The giggle that pours past your lips is fucking raucous, leaves your tongue sticky and tingling, so wicked it rivals your brother. 

“I wanna show her, niichan,” you’re panting out, voice fading into a whine. “I want to show her that you’re mine.” 

“Do it, baby,” he breathes. “Show the whole world how fucking gorgeous you look cumming for your big brother.”

Three more rapid pumps of his hips and you’re convulsing around him, cunt clenching almost viciously around his cock as your heat gushes down his shaft, sticky and messy and so much, so much it pools in the folds of his heavy balls, so much it streams down his taut thighs and soaks the waistband of his trousers, so much it dribbles down the metal of the Audi, smeared across the door in sloppy strokes.

“Mi-Mine,” you growl, thighs squeezing around him as if you’re attempting to milk more juices from yourself, trying to stain him with you and stake your claim. 

“Yeah,” he nearly moans, hips beginning to stutter. “Yours, baby, niichan’s yours. Tell him again.” 

“You’re mine!” you sob out, nails gripping the sleek muscle of his shoulders with such strength the joints of your fingers crack and ache, clawing at him as if you’re trying to gorge every part of you on him, eat up every piece of him you can, stuff every bit of you as full of him as physically possible. 

“Fu-Fuck,” he keens, the curse shattering in his throat. “That’sa—That’s my good girl.”

He’s close now, you can tell; can hear it in the way his words keep splintering on his tongue, can feel it in the way his thrusts have gone from precise and particular to loose and sloppy, an urgent, uneven rutting of his hips.

“Fill me, fill me, fill me with your cock, niichan,” you’re gasping out, scrabbling at his neck, scraping skin and sweat beneath your nails. “Fill me with your cum, fill me so much, fill me until I can’t take anymore and it starts le-leaking out, all—all over the place.” 

And, well, he’s never been one to deny his precious baby sister what she wants. 

Because then he’s complying, hips stammering to a halt and pressed flush to your ass as his cock throbs, stuffing you full of thick, burning cream. 

“More! More, more,” you’re gasping out as you try to fuck yourself on his twitching cock, desperate to pump him for everything he’s got to give, eliciting a breathless, broken little laugh falling from his lips. 

“S’all yours,” he manages to slur out, slumping a little against his car, knees beginning to quiver as his cock strives to please you, giving another weak spurt of cum. “S’all yours, princess, always.” 

[iluvvpaige]

Game Days | kate martin x female reader

Summary: you’re a cheerleader at University of Iowa and you and your girlfriend, Kate Martin, a girl on the basketball team are getting ready for a home game together. And game days are always hectic.

•

“baby, have you seen my jersey?” Kate says to me, walking into the room in a sports bra as I spray hairspray onto my brunette hair.

“check the laundry room” I reply, putting my hair into a slick ponytail, attaching my yellow and black bow to it. I’m already dressed with my black and yellow cheer skirt and shirt on.

“okay” she says, walking out of the room. Me and Kate met at a practice when the girls team barged in.

They sometimes barge into our cheer practices in the gym. We never mind though, sometimes we watch their plays and think of new cheers to do based off of them.

I never really payed attention to the basketball team that much, only focused on my sport until I spotted Kate in my freshman year. We became best friends, spending every second together.

My team had put us together, as they realized I always talked about her. I thought it was silly at first, but now I thank them everyday for putting us together.

“Kate!” I yell. “Huh?” she replies. “Where are my pom-poms?” I say. “I don’t know but i’ll look!” She yells back as I start to hear shuffling. “Okay! Thanks baby!” I yell.

Kate walks back into our shared bedroom, her jersey and my pom-poms in her hand. “found it” She smiles and sets my pom-poms onto my vanity. I giggle and apply my bright red lipstick. I hear Kates phone ringing and she picks it up, setting it down on the bed.

“yeah?” She says. “Where are you and Mel?” I hear and I realize it’s Caitlin and Kennise, a freshman on their team. “We’re getting ready, why?” She replies, looking back up at me as I apply the finishing touches to my make up.

“Hurry ya’ll asses up” Kennise says through the phone. I laugh at her sentence. Kennise is definitely on the unhinged side, saying anything she wants, anytime.

“alright, alright.” Kate says, hanging the phone up. “you ready to go?” Kate says to me, noticing i’ve finished my make up. “bro, i can’t find my fucking shoes” I whine, looking all over the room. “baby, you literally just had them yesterday.” Kate groans.

I always misplace my things. It’s never on purpose, obviously. “Can you just help me and shut the fuck up” I say to her.

“Quit it with that damn attitude, Melissa.” Kate says, sternly. “Bro just help me, god fucking damn” I say, getting more irritated by the second. I hear Kate scoff and she walks into the living room, starting to move stuff around.

I hear my phone vibrating from the side of me as i look for my shoes and it’s my teammate, Kayla.

“Yes?” I say, picking the call up and putting it on speaker phone to continue looking for my shoes. “Where the fuck are you? Coach wants us to go over some cheers” She says from the phone.

“God. I’m looking for my damn shoes.” I say. Coach hates it when we’re late. “Hurry the fuck up.” She says through the phone before hanging up.

I walk into the living room seeing Kate on the couch, ready to go, my shoes right next to her. “Were you not gonna tell me you fucking found them?” I say, slipping them on.

“no” She says, walking towards the door. I quickly run into the room to grab my bag and jog back out. We walk out and get into her car, heading towards the arena.

“What’s wrong with you?” I ask, noticing her body language. I know Kate like the back of my hand.

I’ve memorized every tongue click, glance, glare, thigh shake, and so much more and exactly what they mean. Kate was pissed off right now.

I watched as she tapped the steering wheel. Her hand wasn’t on my thigh as usual, there was no music playing, her jaw was clenched, her thigh was shaking angrily.

“nothing” She murmured, turning into the arena. “Kate whats wrong. We’re not doing this right now.” I say as she parks. “Just nervous is all.” She says, hopping out to grab our bags and open my door.

I hop out of the car, grabbing my bag from her. “Baby, you’re gonna do great. Don’t worry, okay?” I say as we walk into the arena where we see our teams.

“Thanks, baby.” She says, giving me a hug. “Good luck” I reply, giving her a kiss. “I love you” I say, pulling away. “I love you.” She says. I quickly flash her a smile before I run over to my team.

“Did i miss anything?” I ask, my teammate, Callie. “Yes, bro. We went over like 9 cheers” She says. “oh, shit. My bad, guys I say.

“Yeah, yeah. Just cmon so we can run some more.” She says. “Alright” I reply, walking over to the rest of the team.

Iowa won that game, 90-78.

•

thanks for reading!!! definitely gonna start writing more!! Also, did ya’ll notice i threw kennise in thereee..

She’s so underrated and deserves so much more hype, I swear.

hope you guys enjoyed ittt

[amvpk01]

PATHETIC YANDERE

unwanted obsession

when obsession goes beyond admiration, it turns into repulsion and the search for love becomes a path of rejection.

cw: f!reader, non-con, obsession, rejection, violence, stalking, humiliation, kidnapping, manipulation, murder

masterlist || next

Can you imagine someone who is completely useless at everything they do? There's no such thing as good grades, good looks, popularity, or even a good personality. He was a complete shit and he knew it.

It was just another day of him going to school, doing assignments that most of the time the teacher would point out were wrong just to embarrass him in front of the class or that the handwriting was illegible, talking to his pathetic friends just like him, buying something in the canteen and sitting on the benches to eat and look around judging the people.

It was Thursday so it was more crowded than the other days, some familiar faces and others not so much, but someone on the other side of the courtyard surprised him.

A girl with h/c hair and e/c eyes, a pretty face, and a sexy body.

He wondered how someone as beautiful and charming as that could exist. Were you new to the school or did he just not notice you before?

"-Are you there? Dude?? Hello?! Are you listening to me you piece-"

"Calm down bro-"

"Her name?" He interrupted his friends.

"Uh- Who?"

"Pink shirt." The friends looked at the aforementioned girl.

"Don't know, but Giovanna's talking to her, maybe you can ask?"

"...I thought I'd die before I saw you like a girl!"

"Quiet! So fucking noisy. What if she heard you?!"

"Don't worry. It's just that it always crossed my mind that you would be... you know, gay?"

He didn't mind the homophobic comments or the pats on the back along with the laughter of his friends. All that went through his mind was how he was going to get close to you.

You couldn't help but admire your purple nails that matched your fit. It was already a habit of yours to match clothes along with accessories and painted nails. No matter the occasion, you'll ALWAYS be pretty and stylish.

"[Name]?" You looked in the direction of the voice.

"Hi, Gigi! You good?" Noticing her face made you worried. "What's wrong?"

"Well, do you know about some guy who texted you yesterday?"

"Huh, no? All my notifications are off."

"Looks like some guy from my class keeps saying you're ghosting him on DM."

"Oh. My bad, it was not my intention. I think I'll see about that later." You wondered what that guy wanted to talk about. Maybe was someone you already know?

He couldn't believe it that you didn't block him. He thought you had ghosted him but it was just a misunderstanding?!?

'Thanks God... Now I need to talk with her.'

It's been a few weeks since he had the courage and ask you to talk. Every day you exchanged greetings and had long talks that were mostly started by him. You tried to find him attractive or like his personality but nothing worked. Maybe because you already knew his intentions?

But there's something that has been bothering you. Maybe it's just your mind trying to delude you but you swear that someone's stalking you.

And your instinct is telling you that's him even though you don't have proof. You did see a lot of pictures of you on his phone but didn't think he would start to follow you on your way home.

So today you're gonna find out if it's him or not!

You made your usual way home, but you diverted your path to another street that had more shops. Your stalker follows behind you, his face all covered by a stupid black mask and sunglasses.

Maybe you should enter the first shop that you see to know if he would enter too?

Without wasting time, you run into a lingerie store and try to hide further into the store. The stranger only realized the type of store when he put one foot inside, his covered face flushed with embarrassment, and then decided to wait for you outside.

'Damnit! He didn't enter?!' Your thoughts were pure anger and disappointment but vanished when some lady came asking for what type of lingerie you were searching for. Then you got why he didn't.

'NO. NO. NO. NO. JUST NO. DON'T TELL ME SHE'S BUYING LINGERIE TO USE WITH SOMEONE ELSE! SHE SAID SHE HAD NO BOYFRIEND. BUT WHAT IF SHE'S SEEING SOMEONE?!?' He started hyperventilating and his disguise was only making his breathing worse.

After waiting 5 minutes, you come out with a bag in your hands and then speed up your walk. He couldn't lose you from his sight. In his point of view, he was protecting you.

You surely have been running fast, are you embarrassed by someone seeing you in this type of store?

FUCK, DID HE JUST LOST YOU?!??

Surely he saw you walking around that corner-

Oh no...

It feels like you're leaning against the wall just waiting for him. In a fast move, you pulled away his mask. Not being able to hide your disgusted face.

"...What the fuck?"

"Wait- I-I can explain!! It's j-just a misunderstanding! I s-swear! Please, let me-"

"...That's so fucking creepy dude...

If I knew you were like this, I would just ignore you from the start...

Maybe I shouldn't listen to my friends."

He was disturbed that he didn't mind you running away from that place. How could he be so dumb to fall for such a trick? Now, you won't ever talk to him again. Just the fact that he scared you hurt him so much.

You were so kind and pure to him like an angel, and he felt like a demon knowing that you would never want to see him again.

A week has passed since the incident, and he hasn't gone to school, much less left the house. He didn't dare to even see you. Your disgusted face was already haunting him but there's something that he didn't notice before.

'Maybe I shouldn't listen to my friends.'

What did you mean by that? Did your friends tell you about him or something? His phone was getting many notifications, then he decided to pick it up.

A party? Seriously? He wasn't in the mood for this, but locking himself in his home isn't going to make anything better.

He hopes that you go too so he can apologize for his past behavior.

In his own way.

You were relieved, there was no sight of him in school. Mostly like he was who was hiding and not you. You didn't know if he ever felt sorry, after all, you blocked him from everything leaving him with no opportunity to speak and you didn't see him everywhere. Thanks God.

But nothing more than a wonderful party to raise your mood.

If you only know what would happen after this.

part 2 (in progress)

[probably-writing-x]

Figured Out

Summary: reader and conrad taking care of their kid ?

Authors Note: Thank y’all so much for the requests and the love recently. U da best

“Con why won’t she sleep?” You groan, patting the back of the baby in your arms, rocking her back and forth.

“We’ve tried everything. She’s changed, she’s fed,” Conrad runs a hand over his hair, “What else does she want?”

“Should I take her downstairs?” You ask him, “I could put her in the pram.”

“No, it’s still in the car,” He returns, blinking away the sleep in his eyes.

“It’s still in the car? Con I need it tomorrow before you go to work.”

“I know you do, I’ll get it out before my shift.”

“What if you forget?”

“I won’t forget.”

The baby in your arms stirs again and continues whinging in your arms, every so often letting out over-tired cries.

“Come on baby,” You rub her back as she buries against your chest.

Yours and Conrad’s daughter was now six months old, and she’d started the phase of sleep where she just … well, didn’t sleep. She’d sleep for an hour at most and then be waking up, with nothing seemingly relaxing her enough to go back to sleep.

“Come on honey,” You repeat again, laying her back across your arms as you rock her back and forth.

She looks up at you with blinking eyes that begin to slow down in the darkness of the room, until eventually she’s back to asleep in your arms.

“She’s asleep,” You whisper to Conrad, whose eyes open quickly as if he had just been on the cusp of sleep.

“Thank god,” He smiles tiredly, watching as you settle the baby into her bassinet beside yours and Conrad’s bed.

With every ounce of caution you can muster, you slide back into the bed beside your fiancé and rest down against the pillow.

“What are we doing wrong?” You whisper into the dark, turning your head to glance back at the baby’s bed, as if unsure if the peace would even last for more than two seconds.

Without any response, you hear the faint snores of Conrad from beside you, already collapsed into his own exhaustion. And, eventually, even with a thousand thoughts running through your own mind, you drift asleep too.

Until the next hour hits.

———

“Babe have you seen my keys?” Conrad calls to you, rushing through the house with one shoe still in his hand, kicking the other onto his foot.

“Table next to the couch,” You return quickly, flicking up the toaster before it burns and lathering it with a thin layer of butter.

“Got ‘em,” He announces, kicking his foot into the other shoe as he grabs his laptop bag from the floor, fixing his tie in the mirror.

“Here, take this,” You hand him two slices of toast on a paper plate.

Conrad grins and takes the food from you, holding it in his free hand as he bends down to kiss Ada goodbye, “Be a good girl for Mommy okay?”

She gargles up at him from her high chair and grabs her hands out to reach him as he rushes away.

“See you later, babe,” Conrad calls out to you as he disappears out of the door, shutting it a little too loudly behind him.

You look back to your daughter and she hits at the table clipped on in front of her chair.

“He used to kiss me before he left too,” You smile at her, “But I think you’re his favorite now.”

You’d been dating Conrad since the two of you were 18. And, now, you were 24 and engaged and parents to your daughter, Ada. He had a corporate job that earned you enough to pay for the upkeep on the Cousins house, and you were a writer - having published two books before you’d fallen pregnant. You were in the process, at the minute, of writing the third book of the series. But Ada kept you busy enough nowadays that it seemed you never had the time to catch up.

Though, with a face that cute, you knew you’d choose this every time.

Parenting hadn’t been easy on you and Conrad - the extra budgeting, extra responsibility, extra worry, lack of sleep - it all played a part. You weren’t the same couple that you were before you were parents, and you always knew that would be the case. But sometimes you missed the Conrad you had before. Nowadays, the two of you were always in such a rush. And, when you weren’t in a rush, you were both too exhausted.

“Is someone ready for breakfast?” You throw on a smile and look down at your daughter, carrying over the plate of baby food to start feeding her.

She giggles and hits at the chair, her feet kicking in excitement.

You’d always choose this, you’d always choose her.

———

“This is what I’m saying Frank we can’t keep sidestepping this,” Conrad’s voice comes through the door that shuts loudly behind him, “Well we need to get a team together and-“

You poke your head back to see him coming through the door, his shirt untucked and his tie now loose around his neck as he kicks his shoes off at the door.

“Then they need to-“ Conrad cuts himself off, “Yeah, okay, we’ll talk about this tomorrow. Bye.”

“Ada who’s home?” You look down at where she sat on the floor between your legs, both of you playing with her toys on the floor.

She claps her hands together as Conrad walks into the lounge, visibly relaxing when he sees her.

“Hello gorgeous,” He grins, lifting her up onto him, his arms around her, “Have you had a good day?”

You push yourself to stand up, “She had her breakfast but didn’t eat much lunch.”

“Okay, what did you give her?”

“A couple of those pouches, the spaghetti one is normally her favourite but she didn’t eat it,” You explain, dragging a hand through your tangled hair, “She had some snacks this afternoon though.”

He nods, “Well at least there’s something in that tummy,” He tickles at her belly and she giggles.

“We’ve got tacos for dinner, is that okay?” You ask him, “I can make something else if you don’t fancy-“

“Tacos is perfect,” He assures you.

You force a tired smile and go to walk towards the kitchen before his hand reaches out to stop you.

“I haven’t said hello,” He points out, shifting Ada onto his hip as he pulls you into him, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.

“Hi,” You smile as he pulls away.

Conrad leans in once again and kisses your lips, a little more longingly, “And that’s for this morning too.”

You laugh and he wraps an arm around your waist, letting you lean into his chest.

For a moment, the three of you are content just like that. You can feel his heart in his chest and his arm around you do softly and the way his chin rests atop your head. Ada reaches out towards you with grabby hands and you take a deep breath, taking her out of his arms.

“Come on, let’s start your dinner,” You say to her, heading towards the kitchen, “Babe can you get her bottle?”

“I got it,” He calls back, following behind you.

You set Ada into her chair and turn around to heat up her food. Conrad carries in her cup and her teddy, wiggling it along the surface towards her to make her laugh.

He was always good at this. Coming back from work and just switching off, switching into Dad mode instantly.

“So how was work today?” You ask him, stirring a spoon around the food in her bowl, “That call didn’t sound too happy.”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” He shakes his head, “Is Daddy’s office silly? Yeah?” He grins down at Ada and she hits her hands against his.

“What’s going on though?” You question again, checking the temperature of her food against your tongue.

“Honestly, it’s just stupid office stuff,” Conrad reassures you as you walk over to the two of them.

He places a hand on the small of your back and kisses your temple as you lean down to give her the bowl, pressing it down onto the high chair table.

“I can feed her this,” He says, “You go have five minutes to yourself.”

“No you don’t have to-“

“(Y/n),” Conrad cuts you off, “Give yourself a break.”

“I-“ You take a deep breath, “I’ll get started on our dinner.”

He laughs, “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, Fisher, aren’t you hungry?”

“Starving.”

———

After bathing her, you set Ada down to sleep and come back downstairs.

Conrad’s changed into a tshirt and sweats and he’s laying across the length of the couch as you come into the lounge. You go to sit on the other couch before he reaches out a hand to stop you.

“Where are you going?” He mumbles, his eyes closed.

“To the-“

“Here,” He says tiredly, reaching out his arms so that you can lay on his chest.

You smile at the sight and move yourself to lay on top of him, letting his arms wrap tightly around you as your head rests on his chest.

“I’m so tired,” He mumbles against your hair, “Who knew having a baby would be this tiring?”

You hum in agreement, trailing patterns along the material of his t-shirt.

You turn your head and rest your hands on his chest, looking up at him, “Con.”

He tilts his head enough to look down at you.

“What’s going on at work?”

“(Y/n) honestly you don’t have to-“

“I know I don’t have to ask, but I want to.”

He takes a deep breath, moving his hands up and down your back, “I’ve got this big presentation on Friday. They want me to present the idea for this new project and it’s just a complete mess - we haven’t got a team together, they don’t want to give us a team, it’s this whole thing.”

You nod, watching the weight lift from his shoulders just a little.

“I just need to find the time to get it done,” He explains, “But I have all this other shit to do during the day, I just don’t have time.”

You wiggle yourself up just enough that you can reach his face, pressing a kiss to his jaw. He hums against the contact and leans into you.

“I’ll figure it out,” He assures you, brushing your hair from your face, “What about you? What’s on your mind?”

You take a deep breath, “I just-“

You stop yourself, looking at him for a moment longer.

“Do you ever think we have no idea what we’re doing with Ada? Like we’re just completely blind?”

He chuckles, “I think that’s what parenting is.”

“No but I mean,” You push yourself up a little on his chest and look at him more intently, “I just get so scared that we’re doing something wrong. It seems to come so easily to all the other Moms and then I just feel like I’m… not good enough.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” He shifts his hands to your upper arms, gripping them as if squeezing sense into you, “Where’s this coming from, darling?”

“I just-“

Before you can say anything, the monitor rings out with the sound of Ada stirring in her sleep, breaking into a cry.

“I’ll get her,” You say quickly, releasing yourself from him and standing up.

“(Y/n)…” He calls after you as you hurry up the stairs.

There are tears brimming in your eyes and a tremble in your hands, a numb awareness that you’d just admitted what you’d been keeping from him for months. You pick up Ada from her bed and soothe her back to sleep, rocking her back and forth to calm her until she eventually drifts back off, fatigue getting the better of her.

You walk through into the en-suite and brush your teeth, wash your face, make yourself feel a little more human. And, before your feet can even drag you downstairs, you sit down on the bed and feel your own tiredness coursing through you, draining you. You’re asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow.

———

When you wake up the next morning, you’re certain it’s the first night in forever that you’ve actually slept through the night.

A certain Mom panic fuels you as you bolt up to check Ada’s crib - finding it empty, along with the other half of your bed empty too.

You’re just about to worry when you hear the sound of music playing downstairs, your heart relaxing a little before you head down.

In the kitchen, Conrad has Ada in his arms, dancing back and forth with her to an old Green Day song. He hums along to the tune and she rests her head on his shoulder, nuzzling into him.

“Good morning!” Conrad grins when he sees you, where you’re leaning against the doorframe.

“What- uh- what happened last night? I don’t think I woke up once,” You stifle a yawn, blinking the sleep from your eyes.

“Nope, Mommy didn’t wake up, did she?” He tickles at Ada’s chest, “Daddy and Ada agreed that you needed some rest so we took the liberty of being very very good last night, we only woke up once, Daddy gave Ada a bottle and then we went back to sleep.”

“Con…” You trail off, the emotion hitting you just a little.

“We’ve had breakfast, we’ve changed, we’re good to go,” He explains, “There’s pancake mix on the stove if you fancy it, I can make some before I go to work.”

“Oh my god yeah, what time is it? Don’t you need to go?” You panic a little, standing up straight and reaching out to take Ada into your arms.

“(Y/n),” Conrad says softly, resting a hand on your waist, “I’ve got all the time in the world, don’t panic.”

You relax a little and frown at him, “You’ve got all that work to do though, and that important presentation and-“

“Hey,” He stops you again, “Nothing, and I mean nothing is more important than making sure that you’re okay. Do you understand?”

You reach up onto your tiptoes and kiss him quickly, watching as Ada reaches out for you and grabs you. You grin and take her into your arms.

“Alright, go to work Fisher,” You encourage, “I can hold down the fort here.”

He smiles at you and kisses you again, longingly, before rushing off to grab his things to leave.

You look back at your daughter, and again towards Conrad as he’s leaving. How could you be doing anything wrong when this felt so perfect?

———

That evening, Conrad gets back an hour late from work. You can tell he’s stressed as soon as he gets out of the car, but he steps through the front door and erases it all instantly.

“How are my girls doing?” He smiles when he sees you waiting for him, “Have you had a good day?”

“We have,” You return, “Ada’s got a surprise for you too.”

“A surprise?” He widens his eyes at her and she reaches out for him, “I love surprises.”

You walk him through to the dining room and tell him to take a seat. He sets Ada into her high chair and sits down at the table.

“Alright, now I know you’ve got this big presentation, and I know it’s not exactly going to plan right now and you don’t have the time to work on it,” You explain, “So, I thought we’d help you out.”

Conrad narrows his eyes at you as you lean back against the counter, “Are you going to hold me hostage until I get it done?”

“Something like that,” You smirk, reaching behind you and grabbing a wrapped burger, throwing it in his direction.

He catches it quickly, his eyes watching you in adoration.

“We ordered your favourite food, enough to feed like ten people, I’ll get your laptop, we’ll put some music on, we can put a film on, and by tonight that presentation will be perfect,” You explain, walking over with the full tray of the rest of the food and drinks.

“(Y/n) you didn’t have to-“

“I know,” You cut him off, “But you didn’t have to this morning either. We’re just helping each other.”

He smiles up at you and you lean down to kiss him quickly.

“And Ada, you’ve got something a bit less exciting than cheeseburgers,” You grimace, setting down her bowl of food to start feeding her.

She giggles and claps her hands together, reaching out for the spoon in your hand.

“(Y/n),” Conrad pauses as he takes a bite of his food, “I’d say we’re doing pretty good.”

“Do you think?” You fight back a smile as you turn back to him.

He hums in agreement, leaning back in his chair, “We’re figuring it out.”

[theemporium]

If you’re low-key obsessed then I am a gone😍 what about sunshine being awol the morning of a race 🤷🏼‍♀️

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Have you seen Sunshine today?” 

“No, sorry.” 

“Hey, have you seen Sunshine this morning?” 

“I haven’t, no.” 

“Have you—”

“Daniel, I don’t think she’s here, mate,” Max muttered, placing a hand on his teammate’s shoulder in hopes that it would stop him from pacing around the garage, and it did. But it didn’t stop his mind from wandering and spinning on where the hell you could be. 

Despite the separate hotel rooms booked by the team every race weekend, you would always find each other using one room. In fact, it became rarer for the two of you to not share a hotel room when you were in another country for the race weekend, and it just so happened that it was one of those weekends.

You had been out late the night before, out with some of the others in the engineering team as you perfected a few faults you had found in the cars during qualifying. You had messaged him not to wait up for you, to not stay up and risk his own sleep just for the sake of falling asleep with you. And as wrong as it felt, he had managed to fall asleep.

However, when he woke up in the morning, you weren’t there. 

And when he arrived at the paddock, you weren’t there either. 

Now, it was a few hours until lights out, you were nowhere to be seen and Daniel was losing his mind.

“Where is she?” Daniel muttered, his brows furrowed in concern as he tried sending you another message, only for it to come up as undelivered once again. “She should’ve been here by now.”

“Daniel—” Max started but his teammate was already pacing again.

“What if something happened to her?” he whispered, a sense of chilling dread washing over him as he looked up at Max. “What if something happened to her and she needs my help?” 

Before Max could even reply, Daniel was jumping up to grab his keys for the car he drove to the paddock. He was ignoring all logic and rationality that was telling him he should stay in the paddock, that he needed to start getting ready for the race with the rest of the team. His only thought was you.

Max, despite knowing better, knew that Daniel was in no state to be alone right now. WIth the rest of the engineering team also clueless on your whereabouts, the Aussie’s concern only shot through the roof, and his friend didn’t think it would be the best idea for him to be behind the wheel just yet. 

They ignored all the warnings other team members gave them and did their best to ignore the cameras following them towards the exit. Daniel had one track mind and it was completely focused on finding you and making sure you were safe. His fingers were itching to hold you close again and it was starting to consume him. 

However, neither boy expected their search to end as close to the exit as it did. 

“I am telling you, I am a part of the Red Bull team! Just go get someone and you’ll see.”

“Ma’am, we have to ask you to leave—”

“Oh my god!”

Daniel’s head whirled around at the familiar sound of your voice, his eyes eagerly seeking you. And he spotted you, on the other side of the turnstiles, a frown on your face as you argued back and forth with a few of the security guards at the entrance. 

“You need a paddock pass—”

“And I usually have one,” you interrupted, already angsty and on edge, and feeling like a broken record wasn’t helping your mood. “Except for today. Now can you please let me in because they need me—”

“We can’t do that, ma’am.”

“Fuck off,” you groaned, running a hand over your face.

“Sunshine!” 

Your eyes instantly found his and he couldn’t bite back the smile that spread across his face. His feet were moving before he could even think to move, his body too eager to be beside you that he didn’t even bother swiping his pass to get through the turnstiles, instead just jumping over the bars. 

“Danny,” you almost sagged in relief the second his arms were around you. 

“Is there a problem here?” Daniel asked, his eyes now on the security guards as he placed a hand protectively on the back of your head. 

“Mr Ricciardo,” the security guard blanched. “No, it’s just she needs—”

“She’s with our team,” Max interrupted this time, giving the guard a pointed look. “A very important part of the team. So, the sooner you let her through, the more appreciative we will be.” 

“Of course, sir.”

Daniel had yet to let you go as the three of you made your way through the paddock, heading straight towards the Red Bull garage before Christian or anyone else could notice you were gone. You didn’t mind though, the weight of his arm over your shoulder was something you found comfort in these days.

“Where were you?” Daniel asked eventually, his brows furrowed together in questioning. “I was worried sick.”

“It’s embarrassing,” you muttered, a scowl on your face which only amused the Dutchman.

“Well, now you have to tell us,” Max grinned, poking your side and only laughing when you batted his hand away. 

“I forgot my keycard last night,” you told them with a heavy sigh. “I couldn’t get into the hotel room so I had to bunk with one of the other engineers. I tried to get a new card at reception this morning but they thought I was some crazy fan trying to get into Daniel Ricciardo’s hotel room. And I couldn’t even get an extra key to my room because I had no ID with me.” 

Daniel snorted. “Why didn’t you just call me?”

“My phone died,” you replied sheepishly. “I had to borrow an extra polo from a colleague before trying to get to the paddock with no phone, no money and no paddock pass.” 

“I’m surprised they didn’t arrest you on the spot,” Max teased. 

You rolled your eyes. “Funny.” 

“Well, if I have to find any crazed fan in my room, I’d be pretty chuffed if it was you,” Daniel joked as his arm around you tightened. 

“Whatever,” you grumbled but there was a smile on your face. “I gotta take you everywhere with me, Ricciardo. Might even say you’re my crazy fan.”

“That wouldn’t be a lie,” he grinned down at you.

.

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚-𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏

hello, my babies! I am so so so sorry for disappearing and for not writing! I keep running into writer's block, especially regarding my requests, as there's an overload of smut in there, and there are only so many times you can write smut, haha. I hope you like what I've written, all thanks to sebastian stan for looking so fine and @lovebittenbyevans for putting the idea of cop sebastian in my mind! I am open to turning this into a small series, kinda like what @navybrat817 does with their fics. inspired by this photo

summary - there's a fundraising event in your small town, and you happen to run into the hottest officer in town.

warning - the word cunt is used, and thoughts of feeling something's hand against their private parts.

the gif and header I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

It was a hot day as you walked toward the fundraising function held at the local park. Your cherry-printed sundress flowed perfectly in the breeze, and your pink glossy plumped lips spread into a soft smile as you passed by your friendly neighbours. You approach your friend's coffee stand, thanking her graciously, as she instantly hands you the cold drink. Your lips immediately wrap around the straw, drinking the liquidity goodness into your mouth.

“Sooo, baby. Did you see Sebastian?!” Your friend whisper-yells, staring at you with wide eyes as though she has some secrets to spill. You shake your head, not knowing that he is here. “Oh my god! You need to see him! If you thought he was hot in his uniform, you’re going to be on the ground when you see his outfit!” 

You giggle, shaking your head at your friend’s excitement. “You and every other woman in town are obsessed.” You look through her assortment of snacks she has set out, not wanting to look around for the man you guys are talking about. “How much do you want for the coffee?” You reach into your small pink bag, ready to take out your purse.

“Nothing, it was already paid for before you arrived.” You look at her with furrowed brows, and she smirks at you in response. 

“I have a feeling you won’t tell me who.” You squint at her. “Unbelievable.” You shake your head, “Alright, well. I’m going to go look around for a bit.” You lean over and give her a hug before setting off and beginning to look around at the stalls everyone has set up. You hear laughter, and your eyes follow the sound. There stands the police force, all chatting and having a good time. Your breath hitches as your eyes land on Sebastian, one of the hottest officers in your small town. He stands, glistening into the sun with a tan, his body somehow sparkling. Your eyes move down, gulping as you notice his white wife-beater hugging his figure perfectly, how bulky and oversized his biceps look in it. Your gaze moves down, feeling drool in your mouth as you notice his nicely fit slacks. A whimper nearly falls from your lips. The thing that really ties the whole look together is his little man bun. 

You hear a cheer, followed by your name being called, and your eyes move around the group until you land on Anthony, his hands waving around, causing the other men to look over, and you give a soft smile. “Y/n! Come over, baby!” You walk over, chuckling as his arms wrap around you and bring you into a hug. “We’ve been looking for you! Well, actually… Ow!” You look up in time to see a can bouncing off Anthony’s head, and he glares at someone. “What the hell, man?! That’s littering!”

You turn your head, feeling your heart pound as your eyes connect with pretty blues. Sebastian smirks, giving you a nod. “Sorry, Bud. Couldn’t have you running your mouth, especially in front of this gorgeous woman.” He winks, and you feel your cheeks heat up. He spreads his arms, raising a brow. “Where’s my hug, Princess?” You slowly move from Anthony’s hold and into Sebastian’s. Your arms wrap around him, and you sink into him. Your eyes flutter closed, feeling your head become fuzzy as you take in his delicious scent. How could he smell and feel so nice? He should be illegal. “I see you received the coffee.” Sebastian pulls back and gives you a smirk, his eyes flicker down to your plump lips, and his tongue flicks out as he imagines what your gloss would taste like against his lips. 

“You’re the one who bought this for me?!” You look at him, shocked but not surprised. Sebastian had always managed to pay for your things before you even arrived. He nods before directing his attention to the group, spinning you so your back is against his front and his arms wrap around your waist. Your body heats up, feeling your cunt throb from his actions. “Thank you…” You let out quietly, softly smiling as he leans down and kisses the top of your head in response.

“Damn! You’re wasted being a cop, Stan!” Anthony chuckles, sipping his coffee as he stands with his hand in his pocket. 

Sebastian huffs, “And why is that, Mackie?” Anthony smirks, looking between you and Sebastian.

“Because you’re killing all the ladies!” You burst out into a fit of giggles, “So, you would’ve made a great criminal.” Anthony’s brows wiggle, “Sebastian Stan! Killer of Women! He’s the killer that gets away!” His voice booms, and the other officers laugh. 

“Hmm, I could get on that. But there’s only one lady that I’d love to kill with my charm.” Sebastian smirks, looking down at you without you noticing. He pulls you flush against his body, enjoying the shivers that run through you. You felt nice in his arms. Your gaze followed his tanned arms and landed on his large, veiny hands, accessorised with rings. Ones that make you wonder what they would feel like against your most sensitive part. You enjoy being this close to him. You could feel the jealous daggers from the women around you, but you didn’t care about them. You were in Officer Stan’s arms, the hottest guy in town.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[aajjks]

Tutor. JJK

synopsis. becoming your tutor was only the start.

warnings. söft yändērē, sïmp 101 jk, öbsëssîvë thoughts, öbsëssïön, flüff, he’s sö shy lmao

note. just a lil something, I like to call him simp!jk. share thoughts plz.

Jungkook could look at you forever.

You are so attractive, that smile of yours, those E/C eyes of yours make his mind feel dizzy, you make him feel so stupid, so foolish.

So foolishly in love with you.

But he knows you’re way out of his league, you’re everything he’s not, you two are no match, but yet his heart craves you, he can’t stop loving you. How can he not love you, you’re his first love, he was in love with you the first time he saw you.

“Can you stop daydreaming?” Jungkook almost curses under his breath, his friend annoys the fuck out of him sometimes, why would he even dare to interrupt him when he’s busy thinking about you?

“Don’t give me the death stare, simp.” Jungkook doesn’t stop glaring at his friend though, biting the inner cheek of his mouth, glaring daggers at him. “I mean… why don’t you just ask her out already? It’s been two years, JK.”

Jungkooks shoulders sulk at that, his friend has a point, but he simply doesn’t have the courage to ask you out.

You would reject him in a heartbeat.

“No… she’s way out of my league, man…” he barely whispers to himself. He’s so insecure, he wants you so much but he’s so scared to have you, you’re an angel, he’s not worthy of you.

“You never know Jungkook, I mean personally you’re a pretty good guy, I don’t understand your fear but you do you.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply but tries to focus on the teacher instead, as much as he wants to spend the whole period gawking at you, he can’t risk being noticed,

Especially not by you.

“Okay, so I am pretty sure that everyone’s understood the lecture, I hope there are no questions.” The old professor speaks, it doesn’t interest Jungkook.

His mind is still set on you, you never leave his mind, you have him obsessed, it scares him almost. But it feels so good though, because he has a reason to look forward to every day, his reason is you.

“Actually sir?” He blinks twice when he hears your voice, his heart immediately skips a beat. “I had a confusion regarding the concept, if you could help me understand- I am sorry yn but the class is almost over, maybe one of your peers will help you.”

Jungkook doesn’t think before he speaks up. “I-I CAN HELP YN!” His voice echoes around the class room, all of the students turn to look at the shy boy,

Including you.

You are looking straight at him, he can feel your eyes on him.

“Well it’s settled then, thank you Jungkook.” The professor picks up the papers and smiles, “class dismissed.”

Jungkook feels so uncomfortable under everyone’s gaze but as soon as the bell rings. He sighs of relief. Jungkook notices his friends gaze on him too, he doesn’t look at him, because he knows you’re still present in the room,

And he’s pretty sure you’re approaching him already. “Dude she’s coming, good luck.” His friend whispers to him, Jungkook closes his eyes, his friend leaves, even though he couldn’t care less about that typically,

He was all alone with you now.

“Hi Jungkook,”

He will explode any moment from the excitement that’s running through his body, his brown eyes shoot up at you, he stands up, his body is reacting on its own, “H-Hi yn.. wait you know my name?”

You are simply the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, you give him a small smile, it makes him want to scream, “of course! And thank you for volunteering to help me, I appreciate it.” You put your hand out for him to shake, and he almost whimpers as he feels your skin touch his,

“I-It’s all good YN… don’t worry about it.” You’re making it impossible for him to act normal, “s-so shall I… oh you’re so cute jungkook!”

Oh my God.

“W-What?” Jungkook feels insane. He’s not sure if he’s hallucinating about you calling him cute, has he gone actually insane?

“I said you’re pretty cute, Jungkook.” He still hasn’t let go of your hand, you try to break the handshake, but he doesn’t budge.

“Are you okay?” You ask him with sheer concern, he’s too lost in his thoughts to realise that he’s been holding your hand for the last five minutes.

“O-Oh yeah I am… I’m sorry!” He quickly leaves your hand and apologises, bowing in front of you like a loyal servant. “aw no it’s fine. So I was thinking maybe you could help me with the concepts either in the free period or.. somewhere else?”

His eyes widen, he couldn’t believe this,

He had a golden opportunity in his hands.

“I-I… don’t mind anywhere YN.” He scratches the back of his head but inside he’s screaming, it’s so easy for him to conceal his feelings.

Oh the things you make him do.

“Great so how about my house? I mean I’m kind of a lazy person so I’d rather not meet at a coffeehouse or something, I love being in the comfort of my home.” You adorably explain and he’s sure his eyes are heart shaped right now.

“If you don’t mind of course.” Oh just how considerate you are, Jungkook is so obsessed with you, you’re an angel.

He’s convinced.

“O-Of course YN! I’m cool, I-I’m fine!”

“Okay thank you tutor, see you at 7?”

“Of course YN!”

“So I will text you the address, see you soon.” You wave at him, he just stands watching you walk out, you have him awestruck, today is a very blessed day for him,

Also he managed to keep a few secrets from you, like how he knows where you live, Jungkook sighed of relief when you left,

This was a start of something really special for him, and you.

[its-jaytothemee]

Could you please write something about a wood elf Druid tav getting a bad fever/sickness after collapsing just as she steps in the door of the elfsong tavern rooms from the horrible miasma of the bhaal temple and a romanced Halsin tends to her and watches over her

Finally had a chance to get this finished! Sorry for the wait, life just got a little hectic but I didn't forget about you :) Thanks for the prompt, this was fun to write!!

Have a fluffy hurt/comfort piece for this fine Monday.

Also posted on AO3 if you prefer

Pairing: Halsin/Tav (f!reader)

Tags: Fluff, hurt/comfort, not NSFW but alludes to sex toward the end.

Word count: 2,641

Baldur’s Gate goes against everything you stand for. Nature, harmony, peace, community. But not even the city itself with its walls of stone and locked doors to prevent helpless refugees from entering could compare to the horror of the Bhaal temple lying in wait beneath it.

At least on the surface you could still breathe the fresh air, listen to the singing birds flying high above the stone walls, hear the breaking of the waves in the harbor. Nature is out of balance in the city yes, but down here? Here in this wretched temple the scale has broken completely. Only death and suffering and a necrotic miasma that seeped its way into every fiber of your being can be found in the God of Murder’s domain.

The battle with Orin the Red had been vicious. You and your companions fought with brutal ferocity to end her reign of blood and carnage in Bhaal’s name. Though as the fight persisted, you noticed a corruption to your magic. The beautiful verdant vines that you would usually call forth to ensnare your enemies had taken on a sickly brown color. When you try to call on the magic granted to you by Silvanus to heal your allies’ wounds, the bright magic flickers at your fingertips before puffing out of existence. A horrible burning sensation seizes your throat for a moment before a dull ache takes its place.

No matter, we’re leaving this accursed temple. I just need some fresh air. The stench of death is simply clouding my mind.

“You okay, soldier?” Karlach kneels on the bloodied floor, clutching the large gash on her arm.

“I…I think so. This rotten temple must be affecting my connection to the Weave.” You respond as the light pricking pain behind your eyes builds to a loud pounding. Given your magic seems to be touchy here in the temple, you opt to give your friend a potion from your bag.

“This should make it manageable until we can get out of this place.” You go to take a step towards the exit, but your head swims and your vision darkens. Luckily, a deep breath steadies your legs and pushes the fatigue from your mind so you can continue your way to the surface.

You never thought you would be so happy to see the streets of Baldur’s Gate. A new appreciation swells within you after your time in the temple. Sure, there’s hardly any trees and the only animals you see running about are the stray cats and dogs or an occasional rat, but at least now you know there’s far worse things.

“Hells…” You press your hand to your temple as the sun pierces your eyes, agitating the already pounding ache you feel behind them.

“Tav?” Wyll looks at you with deep concern. “You don’t look so good, friend.”

His hand extends to touch your forehead, which you now realize is coated in a thin layer of sweat.

“I…I’m fine. I just need to get back and rest is all.” You try to inhale the surface air, desperate to clear the deathly fog still lurking from the Bhaal temple.

Your companions keep a wary eye on you as you all continue your trek through the Lower City. Normally, you’d stop at some of your preferred vendors to sell some of the bits and baubles you’ve picked up on your latest quest. Today though, everyone insists on getting you back to the Elfsong so Halsin can tend to whatever sickness obviously plagues you.

Halsin…

At least the thought of him makes you smile and helps push the pain away for a moment. Your sweet, considerate, strong, bear of an elf. All of a sudden, you feel dizzy again, but not from the incessant ringing in your ears or pounding against your skull.

The familiar sounds and smells of the Elfsong Tavern pull you away from your daydreams. Normally, the smells of wine and stew and bread would make your mouth water, but right now they cause an uneasy churning in your stomach. You gag to keep what little food you’ve eaten today in your body. With some significant help from Karlach, you make your way up the stairs.

Surely they’ve added at least twenty more since we last left?

By the time you’re standing outside the door to your large, rented room, the light layer of sweat coating your skin has drenched your underclothes. You gasp for breath, the taste of death still prevalent on your tongue from your time beneath the city.

The doors open, and you can hear your friends speaking to you, but everything is warbled in your ear. You see Halsin come running up to you, a look of panic spreading across his face.

What’s wrong, my love?

You try to form the words as you feel his arms wrap around your waist, but everything fades to black.

***

“Tav!” Halsin calls out to you, but your unconscious body remains limp in his arms. “What happened?” He looks to the rest of your companions who had accompanied you to the temple of Bhaal.

“I don’t know!” Karlach starts to pace as he picks you up to lay you down on your shared bed. “She almost seemed sick, like they couldn’t breathe properly with the air in the temple.”

“She tried to cast a healing spell on Karlach but couldn’t form the magic. Come to think of it, she seemed to have trouble casting any of her normal spells.” The alarm in Wyll’s voice is evident as your labored breaths slow with each rise and fall of your chest.

He kneels next to the bed to examine you. The ragged breaths that rise from your throat fill him with dread. A quick healing spell closes the small cuts you received but does little else.

“Talk to us, Halsin. What’s wrong with her?” Karlach continues her pacing around the room.

“I’m not sure yet. I need some fresh water and the small drawstring pouch from my bag.” Halsin swallows the anxiety threatening to block his throat. Despite his feelings for you, his years of healing experience take over.

Your breathing slows further, and he notices the pallid color of your lips. The veins in your arms start to take on a necrotic black look The others come to his side with the requested items. He dips a clean cloth into the water before running it over your sweat-slicked forehead.

“The air in the temple must have corrupted something within her. I’ve seen this only one other time.”

After the shadows were unleashed at Moonrise, he dragged one of his peers from the curse only to find they had already started weaving their way into his body. Not enough to fully corrupt them, but it had been enough to nearly kill them.

“I need someone to hold her legs and arms, keep her as still as possible.” Karlach and Shadowheart came running to your side, pinning your limbs down as Halsin started another incantation.

He places his hand over your mouth and concentrates on the deathly fog that had settled in your lungs. Moving his other hand across your chest and up your throat, he works to draw the corruption out of your body. Your legs and arms convulse, you try and thrash and writhe at the pain, but your companions hold you still.

It takes a couple of passes and intense concentration from him, but eventually he’s able to rip the disgusting miasma from your body. The horrid green vapor sits heavy in the air as he pulls it from your throat. Gale puffs it away with a quick spell.

As soon as the corruption leaves your body, you take a few deep, gasping breaths. Once again, you’re able to breathe the air around you. The color returns to your lips and cheeks, and the black color following the veins in your arms begins to slowly retreat. Despite the sickness being purged, you remain unconscious.

“Shouldn’t she be waking up?!” Karlach’s panicked voice bounces off the walls.

“She will soon, her body needs rest.” Halsin assures her as he sits next to you on the bed. He brushes the stray hair from your face as your breathing returns to normal.

The small drawstring pouch beside him was filled with various suspensions and salts for his healing remedies. A few of them get wrapped in the cool, damp cloth he had used earlier before he places it over your eyes.

He continues to assure everyone else that you will recover, allowing them the freedom to run errands in the city. The others start gathering their things so they can continue with the day. But Halsin of course stays at the Elfsong with you.

“I’m right here, my heart. I’ll be here by your side until you wake.” Halsin presses another kiss to your forehead as you rest. He moves down to the floor beside you, holding the hand closest to him until your eyes open again.

***

You startle awake, bolting upright to find yourself in one of the Elfsong beds.

“It’s alright, Tav.” Halsin’s soothing voice slows your heart rate. You look over to see him kneeling at your bedside.

“What…what happened?” Every muscle in your body is sore. A dull pain still burns in your lungs, as if the nasty haze from the temple had to be ripped out of them. Your hands clutch your chest as you try to catch your breath.

“I’m not entirely sure.” Halsin takes one of your hands and gives it a light kiss. “Can you tell me what you remember from your time in the Bhaal temple? The others said you seemed to have trouble with even basic spells.”

You recount the fight in as much detail as you can recall, but your memory is as hazy as the air you remembered breathing. But you can recall the vivid memory of your tainted magic.

Halsin looks lost in thought for a moment, his brow furrows as he considers your words. Absentminded strokes from his fingers along your hand soothe away some of the anxiety clouding your mind.

“I see. Bhaal is considered a harshly opposing source to Silvanus. Perhaps being in that temple disrupted your connection. Dare I say almost corrupted it.”

“If I never feel that suffocating fog again, it will still be too soon.” You throw yourself back onto the mattress.

Halsin smiles before breaking into a soft laugh. “At least it didn’t corrupt your sense of humor, my heart.”

“Would you come sit with me?” You desperately need to feel his arms around you.

“Of course.” He picks you up off the bed so he can sit on the soft mattress and nestle you in his lap. You lean into him, resting your head on his chest.

His large arms wrap around your shoulders easily as he pulls you close. The faint scent of herbs and fresh tilled dirt cling to the leather shirt he wears. Years of his time spent in nature weave into every fiber of his being. Warmth and affection seep from every one of his pores as he cradles you in his lap.

“Where are the others? Are they alright?” You ask as one hand moves up to stroke the hair tumbling down your back.

“They’re fine, Tav. They’ve gone out to do some trading so you can rest.”

“Thank you for staying with me.” You turn your face further into his chest as he presses a kiss onto your head.

“As if I would let anyone else watch over your recovery.”

You sit there together in comfortable silence as you have so many times before. As he holds you tight against him, he mutters a few more healing spells, taking away the soreness plaguing your body and the pain in your lungs. Each gentle kiss along your forehead and cheeks drives away the fear that had been gripping you since the temple. Despite the relief you feel, a troubling thought crosses your mind.

“You said the temple could have corrupted my magic. Do you…” You trail off for a moment. Halsin gives you an encouraging squeeze. “Do you think it’s permanent?”

The thought brings tears to your eyes and causes a shiver to run down your body.

“Only one way to find out.” He loosens his grip on your shoulders so you can use your arms freely.

With a deep breath, you draw on your power to conjure a small patch of vines on the floor. In the temple, they had appeared as brown, decaying branches, void of life and color. But now they had returned to their supple, green tendrils. Tiny white flowers adorn the vines as they curl into a content pile.

“No harm done. They’re lovely as ever.” Halsin whispers against your temple. You let out a sigh of relief.

Whatever disruption Bhaal’s unnatural sanctuary had caused was now nothing but a memory. You say a silent prayer of thanks to Silvanus for restoring your connection, for keeping you close to his vitalizing influence. Now that the issue of your magic is handled, another thought crosses your mind. One that brings a playful smile to your lips and a blush to your cheeks.

“You know, if the others are going to be out for a while, we could take advantage of the empty room.”

“Oh? And do you think you’re feeling well enough for such an activity already?” The mischievous gleam in his eye causes your heart to skip a beat. You turn so you can straddle yourself over his legs and look at him head on.

“I guess that decision would be up to my wise healer.” You lean forward to plant a tender, lingering kiss on his lips. His arms snake around your waist to pull you closer.

“I don’t see the harm, so long as he’s gentle with you.” He breathes the words into your ear, the feeling is hot on your already flushed skin.

“I make no promises for myself, though.” You try to kiss him again, but he grabs you by the hips and flips you over so he can hover over you on the bed. The movement startles a yelp out of you, but quickly turns into an eager giggle.

“Oh, but I must insist you relax.” His tone shifts to an excited growl as his approving eyes take in every detail of your face.

“Healer’s orders.”

You laugh and do as you’re told. After all, how could you resist those eyes? You find yourself relaxing into his loving, familiar embrace, and soft kisses, stealing these last few moments to yourselves before your companions return. Before returning to the responsibility of saving Baldur’s Gate, and all of Faerûn along with it.

[httpkaulitz]

could you write a fluff where the reader and Tom get into a fight and then he goes out and late he arrives drunk and she takes care of him? I love your write pookie <3

Drunk

PAIRINGS: Tom x Female reader

CONTENT: Fluff

SYNOPSIS: You take care of drunk Tom.

WARNINGS: none

You stared at the page of the book without actually reading the words. It had been hours since everything had happened, but the thoughts and memories still continued to run through your mind like a movie. You wanted to say that you weren't sad and that you hadn't cried, but you would be lying.

You and Tom always argued like every couple, and you always made up soon after. But this time was different. You exchanged very harsh words and you were both too hurt to try to understand each other.

Tom had left, slamming the door loudly after looking at you hurt.

You woke up to your cell phone ringing non-stop. Tom wasn't home yet so you decided to go to bed early to avoid any future arguments. You opened your eyes slowly, reached out clumsily to grab your cell phone from the bedside.

"Gustav? Did something happen?" You asked worriedly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You looked at the clock on the bedside and the red light was flashing 2:27 in the morning. Gustav would never call at this hour.

"Yes... can you open the door for me?" He sighed looking tired.

"I am going." You got out of bed and walked towards the door, stumbling a little on the way because of your sleep. You opened the door and Gustav had Tom leaning on his shoulder.

"My God what happened?" You quickly ran over to him helping him carry Tom to the couch.

"I don't know. He called me and I found him like this. It seems like he spent the day drinking, so the fight must have been for some stupid reason." Gustav said trying to make everything sound less than it really was. He knew you well enough to know that you wouldn't like the situation at all.

"Hey, you said you weren't going to bring me here." Tom mumbled in a slurred voice. Anyone could see that he was completely drunk.

"You, quiet." You said angrily pointing your finger at Tom's face.

"Don't point fingers at me. You shouldn't even open the door dressed like that." He shouted, blatantly looking at your body, smiling.

You were so worried about the possibility that something serious had happened to your friend that you didn't even bother to change your clothes. The nightgown was a completely short blue dress and showed more than it should. You just rolled your eyes and turned your attention to Gustav.

"Sorry, you didn't need to waste your time bringing this idiot. You could have left him on the street." You said taking Gustav to the door. He looked at you with a warning look even though he knew you weren't serious.

"I know... it's just that I had a very long day, which apparently isn't over." You look at the sofa and see Tom try to get up, grimace in pain and fall back into his seat.

"Do you need help with him?" Gustav asked worriedly.

"No, you've already helped enough." You almost laughed at your friend's relieved expression. "You can take his car, you won't walk home because of a drunk." You shouted the last part so Tom could hear and he mumbled a bunch of incomprehensible things making Gustav laugh.

"Thanks, don't be too hard on him. Good night." He hugged you, already heading towards the exit.

"Don't defend him." You complained, moving away from Gustav who laughed in his face. "Good night, be careful on your way home."

You took a deep breath and walked over to the couch. Tom was still the same way you and Gustav had left him, he tried to get up a few times, but gave up when he realized he couldn't do it alone.

"Let's go." You said more to yourself than to Tom. You pulled him by his arms, helping him get up, put one of his arms around your neck and started walking towards the bedroom.

"Okay, just a little more." You whispered with difficulty as you lost your balance and hit one of the walls in the hallway.

When you arrived in the room, you let go of Tom, who fell back onto the bed, pulling you with him. He leaned up trying to kiss you but you pulled away.

"Stop it, Tom." You said pushing him away.

Tom held you against him until you stopped trying to get away. "You look really pretty dressed like that." He said, lowering one of the straps of the nightgown and letting it hang on your shoulder.

"And you're really drunk." You looked at Tom, he had the same wolfish smile, but his mouth was swollen and a large purple spot was starting to form in the corner. You let go of his arms, finally managing to stand.

''You would look prettier without any clothes on.'' Tom whispered, sitting up and trying to grab you by the waist.

''Tom, stop it. Take off your clothes and lie down on the bed.'' You pushed his hands away, taking a deep breath. You were still upset about the fight earlier, but there was no point talking about it now.

''That's what I'm talking about.'' He said, laughing and tugging at the hem of his nightgown.

You rolled your eyes, slapping Tom's hand away. You rested your knee on the mattress and pulled Tom's shirt over his head.

''Don't even think about sleeping until I'm done.'' You mumbled, noticing his sleepy state.

''I'm not sleepy.'' He replied, with a drunken wave.

You unbuckled his belt with a quick movement. ''You're good at that.'' He said smiling, Tom raised his head to look at you who was completely serious and focused on your work.

''Shut up.'' You said irritably, unbuttoning his jeans and moving them down his legs. You threw it to the ground and stood with your hands on your hips, breathing heavily.

''Come on.'' You pulled his hands trying to lift him up.

''Where are we going?'' He asked confused.

'No way you're going to sleep next to me stinking of alcohol.'' Tom just grumbled in response without wanting to get out of bed.

''Come on, Tom.'' You sighed, dragging him to the bathroom.

He grumbled again, doing nothing to help. In the best case scenario, he ended up putting more weight on you.

''Stay here, I'll turn on the shower.'' You said, placing Tom on the toilet.

You turned on the shower, changed it from hot to cold and waited for the water to change temperature. You felt Tom wrap his arms around your waist and press your body against his.

''Can't you stay quiet even when you're falling down drunk?'' You asked, not expecting an answer.

''Are you still mad at me?'' Tom asked when you moved his arms away from your waist.

''You hate me now.'' Tom said in his drunken state pouting.

''I'm sure I don't hate you.'' You said laughing and turning to look at Tom, he had taken off his underwear and was now completely naked. You quickly looked up at Tom's face, which was smiling smugly.

''Don't pretend you don't like what you see.'' He smiled, naughty. You smiled and pushed Tom under the shower.

He grunted when he felt the cold water and tried to get out, but you pushed him back under the water.

''It's cold.'' He complained.

''This will help with your drunkenness, and you'll thank me tomorrow.'' After a while more listening to Tom complain about the cold water, and other things that you didn't understand because he spoke so quietly. You turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist.

''I'm not sleepy.'' Tom complained as you put him in bed and covered him with the duvet.

''Tom please, it's early in the morning and today was very stressful, just be quiet, okay?'' You asked softly, walking away towards the hallway, but Tom held your hand and pulled you back.

''Will you sleep here with me?'' He asked sleepily, already snuggling into the soft covers. There were few times that you slept apart after a fight.

''Do you think I would not sleeping in my comfortable bed because of you?'' You raised an eyebrow seeing Tom smile at your sarcastic tone.

''Smart girl.'' He whispered letting go of your hand.

You walked to the living room to get your cell phone, Gustav had left messages saying he had arrived home safe.

You looked at the time on your cell phone screen 03:15am. You was exhausted, confused and stressed. You walked back to the room and found Tom already asleep. His body was sprawled out on the bed, his head tilted to the side and from the messy state of the bed you knew he had moved a lot until he found a comfortable position.

The duvet had come down leaving his body exposed, the light coming in through the window was enough for you to enjoy the view of his subtle and completely perfect muscles. You felt your face heat up and you knew you were blushing, when your eyes traveled further down his torso, following the trail, eagerly, as if it were a map that would lead you to the pot of gold.

''Stop it, you're still mad at him.'' You whispered to yourself pushing away your lewd thoughts. You put the cell phone on the bed, and pulled the blanket covering Tom's body.

As soon as you lay down next to him, he brought his body closer to yours, hugging you around your waist. You smiled as you watched him sleep peacefully. You guys would be fine.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I feel like Gangle needs a close friend,so can I request Gangle being bestfriends with and being protected by a Intimidating and large Y/n who is the same species the Gloink(i think that’s how it’s spelled? :0) Queen is?..like this large monster creature being friends with this silly alive mask and string makes my day,i hope you have a nice Day! ^^

Thank you! Hope you have a nice day too!

Also for anyone 21+ take a shot every time you see the word "Gloink" in this fic /j

........

As if Gangle's day wasn't already bad enough...some Gloinks appeared out of nowhere and stole her comedy mask.

She was rightfully upset, especially as she recalls Caine casually mentioning that those pesky shapes tend to run wild from time to time throughout the digital circus.

That was also an indication that something else was creating new Gloinks. Not the Queen, as she became abstracted, but another creature like it.

Much to Gangle's dismay, nobody wanted to help her retrieve her beloved mask considering what happened during the first "Gather the Gloinks" adventure. All the performers--Zooble especially--preferred staying away from the nest at all costs.

Yet she couldn't.

Jax made a passing comment that she didn't have the guts to go down there by herself....and that gave her enough motivation to do exactly that.

She was done being so afraid.

Knowing the Gloink Queen was gone did give her some peace of mind, albeit not a whole lot. For all she knew, something far worse could have taken up residence in her place..

But nevertheless, she bravely descended the escalators, bidding a momentary farewell to the safety of the above-ground section of the circus-

Only to have instant regrets as a growl resounded through the dark cave, echoing off the gem-embedded walls.

She squeaked in fear, wanting to run back upstairs and forget about this whole thing...but she forced herself to press on, looking around at all the Gloinks who were seemingly minding their own business.

She could always take the easy way out: hiding in her room, accepting her old mask is gone forever, and crafting a new mask in its place.

Not today, though.

Today she was going to prove Jax wrong and become the bravest-

"Waahh!!" Nearly tripping over a Gloink, Gangle skidded to a stop and watched a mini parade of them bouncing towards something, the line leader carrying her mask.

She could only freeze in terror upon realizing that "something" was you:

Another monster similar to the Gloink Queen--with different colors and patterns and half as many eyes. You looked utterly terrifying as you slithered around, checking on some newly-produced Gloinks.

'Okay, maybe they won't see me...get it together, Gangle!!' Huffing, she shook her head, trying to hype herself up. 'You'll be fine. Just be firm and tell them you want-'

"A nongloinkian..made of strings? Interesting."

"Eek!!" She flinched, seeing every single one of your eyes staring down at her. You didn't seem angry at her intrusion, but she was utterly terrified right now.

"Come here. I won't bite." Your voice rumbled, and she had no choice but to listen to you...lest she suffered the same fate as Zooble.

Tears dripped from her tragedy mask as her legs shakily carried her closer to you, noticing some Gloinks hobbling behind her in case she thought about turning back.

There was no escaping you now.

'Oh god, this is where I die...or turn into a Gloink forever. Does anyone realize I'm gone? Would they even care if I-?'

"My Gloinks love to steal everything in sight, but I believe they wrongfully took something of yours."

"H-Huh?" Confused, Gangle looked to see the line leader approaching her with something she treasured more than all of her anime drawings and manga.

Her comedy mask.

"You're...not going to eat it?" She picked it up, not finding a single chip or crack in the ceramic texture. Then she gazed back up at you. "Thank you, but I um...thought you guys hated anyone who wasn't a Gloink.."

".....oh, uh...not me." You shook your head. "It's the queen who did. She thought everything had to be Gloink. I wanted us all to live in harmony. I tried to persuade her...but she never budged. I thought we had enough Gloinks to go around...but she was never satisfied. So with her gone, you have nothing to fear."

"I see..th-thank you again." With a meek nod, Gangle put her mask back on, which took effective almost immediately as she grinned and hopped in place. "You are too kind! How could I ever repay you o'mighty Gloink?"

You blinked, feeling flattered by her compliment. "You may call me [y/n]...for some reason, it's a name I hold near and dear to me. I'm not expecting any repayments, but...I do wish for a small change."

"Like what?"

"Maybe...seeing the upstairs? This nest gets lonely even with all these Gloinks to keep me company. But I could use a real friend." You gazed back down at her. "And I can tell you need one, too."

Once again, you've surprised her..as she stopped jumping and thought about your request for a few moments. "That would be nice..a real friend. I could talk to Caine and see about getting you upstairs. Maybe you can meet my um..fellow performers at dinner?"

Your eyes lit up. "You mean that?"

"I do! But you must promise not to steal any of Zooble's parts."

"I promise you that...um...."

"Oh! I'm Gangle, by the way." She chuckled.

"Gangle....Gangle..." You took a few moments to register the name into your brain, before your toothy smile returned. "Very well, then..go."

.........

"Gangle? Making friends? That's as impossible as finding an exit."

"Is it an NPC? Or someone absent from today's musical number?"

"Do they like insects??"

"Guys, guys..don't worry. They're really friendly!" Gangle smiled at the other performers as they all gathered around the dinner table. She had gotten such a huge confidence boost ever since her meeting with you, and she was excited to introduce them to you!

Yet the more they pressed about this matter, the more nervous she became.

Even with her comedy mask still on, anxiety was seeping through as she rubber her ribbon hands together. "So um..just as a heads up, they're big so don't be scared if-"

"How big are we talking?" Zooble raised an eyebrow. "It's not some giant monster from one of those anime things you watch, is it?"

"No, but-"

"Hello, colorful cast of nongloinkians."

All at once, everybody fell silent upon seeing you rounding the corner, your large snakelike body slinking towards the table.

You had just enough room to squeeze your head between Gangle and Pomni--the former smiling and patting your snout in greeting, and the latter looking absolutely horrified.

"U-Um..Gangle.." She stuttered. "You do realize this is-"

"Oh don't worry, Pomni. This is [y/n]. They're nothing like the Gloink Queen. They just wanted to coexist with us, but it was hard when they were down in that cave all alone...so Caine allowed them to come upstairs!" The ribbon beamed proudly.

Everyone was certainly caught off-guard by her optimistic attitude, given they haven't seen her wear that mask in a long time. But a few smiled, glad to see her genuinely happy.

Although of course..the moment was short-lived.

"...pfft haha! Are you kidding me, Gangs? You just got yourself a big ol' pet!"

You and the others looked at Jax, who was shaking his head and kicking his feet back onto the table. "Man, you must feel really lonely to find a friend in something like that."

"Jax, that's very rude." Ragatha warned. "Gangle did nothing to you. Why are you always picking on her?"

"I mean..it's cool she tamed a giant Gloink. It could bring something new to our adventures...but I think she forgot the part where these things despise everyone who's not like-"

"Sure, little rabbit..go ahead and talk as if I'm not here.."

Tensing for a moment, Jax's gaze darted to your hostile glare. "You don't scare me, ya know....but you sure are scaring the rest of my pals." He jerked a thumb towards the trembling Kinger and Pomni, as well as the concerned Ragatha and Zooble.

You paid no mind to them, however.

"Oh, but you should be scared of me the most, rabbit." You sneered lowly, making yourself look bigger as you continued staring him down. "If what your doll friend says is true...then heed this warning: if you dare upset my new friend Gangle, you will face the wrath of my Gloinks. We will not turn you into Gloink, but we will ensure every precious item you hold dearly is consumed to make more Gloinks who will watch your every move. You will not eat nor sleep without feeling our presence all around. And we will take...and take...and TAKE until you have nothing left but those silly overalls. Are we clear?"

There was a long pause as Jax froze in his seat, for once looking genuinely terrified of your threat..although when he realized everyone else was staring, too, he brushed off the fear he felt. "Yeah sure..whatever you say, [y/n]." He then checked his imaginary watch, standing up. "I got a hot date somewhere so.....c'ya."

And with that he dashed off, leaving a cloud of bunny-shaped dust in his wake.

"Good riddance.." You huffed as you curled around his chair, looking to Gangle. "Was that good? Was I intimidating enough?"

"....y-yeah.."

"Oh no, what's wrong?" Concern flashed over your face upon seeing her tearing up. "I didn't mean to frighten you, I'm-"

"N-No..these are..happy tears.." Sniffling, she wiped the blue marks off her ceramic cheeks, giving you a big smile of reassurance. "Thank you for defending me.."

"...you're welcome." You smiled back in relief, glancing at the other performers. "Well..I hope I didn't make any of you nongloinkians lose your appetites. Eat."

"W-Well..we don't exactly need to eat." Kinger muttered. "This food's just for show. For simulation!"

"Ah, I see.."

"Can you promise your Gloink buddies won't try kidnapping me again?" Zooble asked, fidgeting with her pincher hand. "That was f---ing hell to go through....but by all means take Jax if you want. Nobody will miss him."

"Dualy noted." Nodding, you looked back at Gangle, who gave you a thumbs-up (or at least, the best thumbs-up she could muster given her ribbons), and you suddenly felt extremely welcomed by everyone here.

It was nice to finally leave the nest.

[heartbreakgrill]

stiles stilinski: breakable heaven; pt. 7, “i’m drunk in the back of the car and i cried like a baby coming home from the bar. said, ‘I'm fine,’ but it wasn't true.”

a/n: sad, but gets hopeful! one more part after this, i think :)

“i’m glad i never ended up having a party at my house.”

danny fell into step beside y/n, their shoes scuffing against the sidewalk. they had to park all the way down the street from jack’s house because there were so many other people here. because it was so late at night, the air in beacon hills was cool. y/n hugged her arms around herself, wishing she hadn’t worn a tank top beneath her jacket. her breath came out like a fog as she spoke.

danny made a face at the thought, “too much work. imagine the clean up.”

“yeah, no thanks,” she shivered.

the music coming from the house ahead of them got louder as they neared it. some popular radio song reverberated in their ears. y/n felt her heart beat in her throat, thumping along to the bass. danny lit up once they reached the door, excited to drink, dance.

he always was the party type. he had so much fun moving to the music, losing himself in the crowd.

on the other hand, there was y/n, who didn’t normally drink at parties. she was a go-to for being the designated driver, choosing to watch out for her friends and play with whatever animal the owner of the house had sniffing around.

tonight, however, she wanted to let loose. needed to, more so.there was nothing better after a heartbreak than getting messy-drunk at a high school party.

it had been a week. a whole week since her and stiles’ fall out. a week since she’d seen his face. sure, she saw his figure in the hallways sometimes, but she would run the other way. he’d start to chase her down, but danny was usually close by and he’d shoot stiles a glaring look. it turned him away. he’d texted her nonstop, called her about a million times. but, after the fourth day, when he realized she just wouldn’t be responding, he stopped. all lines of communication fell out. any hope of fixing what was broken was squashed out.

when y/n thought about it too much, she felt sick. nausea tumbled through her stomach. her head became fuzzy. stupid, naive girl, she’d think to herself. it’s all your fault. so, every single time her mind started to wander, she’d shove her nose into her homework, pick up a shift at work, get so high out of her mind that reality felt like a television show.

tonight, her choice of thought erasure was getting wasted at a high school party.

y/n squeezed her hand around danny’s bicep once they walked in. in response, he kept her close to his side as they wormed through jack’s house, in search of their friend group. eventually, they found leo, megan, jack, and a few others. they were in the kitchen, standing around the island counter. glasses were scattered around the house already, though the party had just started barely an hour or so ago. the group cheered when y/n and danny came through the door, holding up some of the red solo cups.

megan came to y/n’s side, her tipsy stature morphing her usually quiet attitude into something more sentimental. she clutched onto y/n’s arm. she touched y/n’s cheek and gushed over the curls swinging over her shoulders. “i loooove the hair, girl. you look so pretty with it like that. you’re always pretty, though. oh, my god, you know we haven’t hung out in forever and it makes me so sad. please, please say we’ll hang out soon.”

y/n giggled at megan’s state, wrapping a securely protective arm around megan’s waist. “i promise, okay?”

y/n was the first to admit that she’d been so caught up with boys over the last few months. she hadn’t exactly pushed away her friends, but she hadn’t prioritized them, either. she was in her head with her own issues, and didn’t make the time others. it made her feel a little guilty. but, before that feeling could snowball into the depressive heartbreak she’d been plagued with, megan continued.

“what’s new with you? what have you been up to? i hope you’re not still sad about sam. you should know you’re so much fucking better than him. you deserve so much fucking better than him. he’s such a whore. fuck him.”

“no, i’m over that,” y/n said, confidently waving megan off through a giggle. and she was telling the truth. “i’ve just been…hanging out. ya know. working.” her gaze became distant, words slow as stiles’ face flashes through her memories. y/n didn’t say what she had been really doing. it was embarrassing to admit that she’d gotten herself into another shitty situation with a guy.

though, megan squinted her eyes, analyzing her friend’s words. she knew, “oh, no. oh, no, no, no. fucking stilinksi. i fucking knew once danny told us- okay. listen- you don’t even have to say anything, kay? tonight, we’re just gonna have fun. here, jack, pour us some shots!”

y/n couldn’t help but grin in response. there wasn’t time to imagine stiles- to envision his lips ghosting the curve of her skin, to try to remember what it felt like when he’d draw out movement from her body. because, next thing she knew, megan was shoving two to three red solo shot cups into y/n’s hand- all in a row. and y/n didn’t let herself hesitate. she swallowed them easily, ignoring the burn in her throat, her heart, her chest, and head.

jack cracked a smirnoff open for her. danny caught y/n’s eyes as she took a sip and gave her a thumbs up. when she waved him off, he winked, then wandered his way into the living room, where people were dancing. he’d mentioned something about ethan being there. y/n looped her arm through megan’s, pointed in that direction. megan nodded excitedly and pulled them to the makeshift dance floor.

they danced for what felt like hours but, really, was only maybe forty five minutes. jack and leo, avid partiers, continued shoving shots into their friend’s hands, traveling between the bar in the kitchen and the dance floor. y/n losing track of time turned into her losing track of how much she was drinking. one smirnoff turned into numerous empty glasses that she’d abandon on the coffee table beside her.

she had to take her jacket off after a while, sweating too much in the jean material. y/n tossed it, absentmindedly, on the couch. she probably wouldn’t remember it there later. she’d probably have jack in a frenzy, texting everyone tomorrow about random articles of clothing in his living room. she’d probably lose the 20 stuffed into the pocket to some wandering hands. but it didn’t matter.

nothing really mattered. not when her favorite song played, not when megan spun her around, when danny would yell lyrics into her face and ruffle her hair. y/n just kept throwing her head back, giggling like a mad woman.

it didn’t matter. it did not matter to her. the entire, fucked up situation with stiles. it didn’t matter that he had used her, that he had been seeing lydia the whole time. it did not matter that he had kept so many secrets from her. it did not matter that she broke her own rules, that she let him get beneath her skin, that she fell in love with hi

it did not really matter if she loved him.

y/n turned on her heel, dancing around in circles with megan, both girls holding each other’s hands like they were schoolgirls. her hair whipped over her shoulders, in waves behind her back. her eyes couldn’t focus on the blurred, bright lights passing her vision as they spun. the bodies surrounding them turned into smudges against her vision. she couldn’t tell who was who.

but she thought she saw stiles standing in the doorway to the kitchen, clear as day.

y/n stalled in her tracks. she nearly fell over from how quickly she stopped. megan bumped into her shoulder, grabbed y/n’s arm to steady herself.

y/n couldn’t breathe. she squinted her eyes, rubbed at them, smudging her mascara.

her sight cleared and there was nobody there.

megan laughed loudly in y/n’s ear, tugging on her arm, “why’d you stop?! keep going! spin, spin!”

y/n took a deep, shuddering breath, staring at the spot where she had pictured stiles. “i need air,” she mumbled.

megan yelled, “what are you saying?”

y/n pulled her arm out of megan’s, “i’m going outside,” she barely looked at her friend. this is why she didn’t like to drink.

y/n stumbled through the house, being shoved left and right by the sweaty, dancing teenagers suffocating her. she didn’t know when she’d started crying, but her face was slick was tears. she wiped her hands across her cheeks, smearing more mascara and eyeliner, blackening her palms. she couldn’t focus her thoughts, nor did she feel like herself. this is why she didn’t like to drink. because she wasn’t logical, she was out of control.

y/n found the side door, the one that led to jack’s garage, and slammed it shut behind her. once she reached the garage floor, she slowly lowered herself to the bottom step, hugged her knees to her chest. she didn’t know if she was having a panic attack or a full mental breakdown. but she couldn’t breathe. and she just wanted to be sober so she could figure out her shit.

y/n pressed a hand to her chest, hoping the pressure would do something: ground her, snap her back to reality. all she could do was sob, rock back and forth like a baby. as she did so, her phone fell out of her back pocket. somehow, her camera roll was open on the screen. staring up at her. a picture of stiles and winnie was there, taunting her.

y/n didn’t have any inhibitions, too far gone to know what crossed the line of boundaries she’d made when she was sober. so, she picked up her phone, her hands shaking.

and she hit the little telephone next to his contact. she stared at the picture as it rung.

she needed him. she needed him to hold her, bare-naked under his bedsheets, warm against his chest. needed him to rake his fingers through her hair and to kiss her forehead, call her baby again. even just say her name. she’d even pretend, like she did a dozen times, just for him, that she didn’t notice his lips linger there. she’d pretend it never happened.

anything for him. if he wanted her and lydia- that was fine. he could have her. she was his, completely, fully. all of his. every inch of her skin that he had laid eyes, that he had touched his with fingertips, every inch of skin that he had nipped at with his teeth- it was his.

he picked up immediately.

“y/n? oh, my god, i’m so fucking- i’m so sorry. i don’t know what i did-“

“stiles,” she cut him off, voice barely above a whisper.

his tone instantly softened. a soothing one replaced his usually hectic vocal demeanor, “oh, baby.” he knew, from just the smallest whimper barely uttered between her lips, he knew that she didn’t want to fight. she didn’t call to argue. she didn’t call to make up, either. she just called to hear him, to talk to him. she needed him.

she’d never know how much he needed her, too.

his voice, breathy in her ear, sent a shiver down her spine. y/n sniffled, knuckles white on the hand which held her phone. her head lolled down, chin hiding into her chest.

“what’s wrong?” he asked.

y/n chewed on her lip for a moment, willing it to stop wobbling, “i mis-“ she stopped herself, jamming a different word onto what she was saying to cover it up, “i mistake. i-um, didn’t mean to call you.

it took him a second to reply, “oh. ok.” he knew it wasn’t true, but he didn’t know what else to say. he didn’t want to press her into a conversation she didn’t want to have. but he didn’t want to end the call. he wanted to be whatever she needed in this moment.

they sat there in silence for a good two minutes, not even the sound of their own ragged, anticipatory breaths making any noise in the other’s ear. y/n’s hand was shaking. she loosened her tight grip on her knees and stretched her legs out in front of her. the shift in position helped her breath a little bit better.

she sniffled again, tilted her head back. as she stared at the ceiling, she suddenly laughed. “i didn’t make a fucking mistake, stiles. god, i meant to call you.”

“oh, good,” his tone remained still and flat. he was focused on reading her words. there was meaning between the lines that he couldn’t read. and she was acting strange. he was decoding everything.

“i mean to call you because every single second that i’m not with you, i feel like i’m going to die!” she exclaimed, tossing her other hand in the air.

stiles rubbed his lips together, brows furrowed, “i’m glad that you called.” he, also, felt like he was going to die without her. but, he didn’t know if he should tell.

if only stiles knew that if he would have just told her, honestly, how he felt, as soon as he felt it, months ago, this entire situation could have been avoided. alas, it was a lesson he was still learning.

“good,” y/n huffed. hearing him calmed her down. knowing he was there coaxed her off the edge of anxiety. now, her drunken self took back over her body. and drunk y/n wanted to dance, “okay. i’m going back to the party-“

“party?” stiles interrupted her, his concerned tone back. she was annoyed that he cared where she was at. he didn’t have any right to that feeling- though, also, it made her feel good, that jealousy, that toxicity.

drunk y/n was feeling a lot.

she nodded, though he couldn’t see her, stating matter of factly, “party. i’m at a party, stiles. i’m drunk, and i’m having a blast. well, i was having a blast until you popped into my mind. god, do you know how badly i want to punch you in the face? i just wanna give you, like, a knuckle sandwich, ya know? maybe being hit will make you figure your shit out. okay, whatever. like i was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, i’m going back to the party. i’m going to go dance with my friends-“

stiles had just left the animal clinic, where he, lydia, allison, and scott had met to discuss plans to combat the killer still in beacon hills. chills were lingering on his skin, thinking about all of the photographs stolen from the station, picturing dead students cut at the throat. every time they’d pull another out of the beige manila folder, y/n’s face would appear in his head, attached to a battered, beaten corpse. he’d been worried sick about her the last week, especially since the murderous rampages had slowly spread, closer to home. and, they were more vicious as every day passed. he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t stay outside her house every night, parked in his jeep down the road, barely able to sleep.

her, drunk at a party, was the last situation stiles needed her to be in. it was dangerous. he didn’t want to show up to a crime scene with her corpse lying within a body bag. he couldn’t lose her.

of course, she didn’t know that that was a possible ending to her night. everyone knew about the serial killer, but average citizens of beacon hills didn’t really seem concern themselves with something that seemed so out of reach. teenagers, especially, were naive and vulnerable to things like that.

“who’s with you?” he interceded her words, again. y/n groaned in response and went to complain about how he always did shit like that. but, he spoke again, more firmly this time, “y/n, who’s with you?”

“my friends, just danny, megan, jack, leo. a bunch of other people i don’t know,” she listed off, staring into space. “why do you care?”

“where is it?” stiles demanded. sure, he didn’t have claws, fangs, or anything that would stop a literal supernatural serial killer besides a beat-up baseball ball and his annoying attitude which would eventually drive the creature even more insane. but, he needed to be there. heather had died at a party. the ending scene of a slasher film always happened at a party. parties were breeding grounds for death, as if they were the tenth circle of dante’s inferno or something.

y/n, danny, leo, megan- they were all sitting ducks. targets for something really bad yet to happen.

so, he needed to be there. convince her to leave, if he could. if she wouldn’t leave, he’d stay. he’d stay for her.

anything for her.

y/n hung up on the phone once he said he was on the way. she’d scoffed and said, “yeah, fucking right. danny will beat the shit out of you.”

the beeping tone of a hung up line hit stiles like a truck. he still didn’t quite understand what he had done. if he did, he’d had fixed it by now. he was always good at fixing things. maybe he didn’t have glowing red eyes, or the ability to predict death, but he always was able to fix the jeep. he pulled his dad out of his alcoholic pit after his mom’s death. he was a problem solver. he was good at it.

but, he didn’t what was broken.

tonight, he intended to find out. he didn’t care if danny beat the shit out of him, or if y/n wouldn’t listen. he’d wait for her to open her ears to his incessant bickering, holding an ice pack to whatever bruises danny had left. he knew she’d break eventually.

if she really was done with him, if she really didn’t want to hear him out, why else had she called him?

–

stiles broke about a billion traffic laws. but he managed to get there, quickly, in one piece.

he couldn’t locate y/n anywhere inside the house, but did find all of her friends dancing in the living room. had they been there the whole time? did they even know y/n was on her own? probably not. you’d think, with a serial killer on the loose, they’d care more about each other’s safety.

his jaw dropped at the sight of them, carelessly floating through the crowd while one of their friends was drunk and alone, in some dark corner of this house. it pissed him off, as did all of the people pushing against him, alcohol sloshing over the rims of their cups and onto his shoes, the smell of sweat, and the sight of teenagers making out against walls, doors, other couples.

he had always hated people, but parties reminded him just how much of that hatred existed within his chest.

stiles checked the upstairs bedrooms, bathrooms, called her name out, down the basement steps, peeked into the empty garage, and even looked inside a pantry in case she’d stuffed herself somewhere like that.

stiles was grateful to, eventually, find her, outside, on the edge of the pool. her sneakers and socks were flung into the yard behind her. she swung her bare feet in the chlorinated water, completely soaking the bottoms of her jeans. y/n’s palms were planted on the concrete beside her thighs, her head thrown back, eyes closed as she swayed to the music. she didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

stiles huffed when he saw her, the deep, worried breath rattling in his chest. “y/n,” he said, hoping to garner her attention. his hands flung about him, as they normally did when he spoke.

she didn’t seem to care that he was there, but she definitely heard him. he knew she had because he watched y/n’s shoulders flinch, ever so slightly, at the sound of her own name.

stiles squatted down beside her, curling a soft hand around her bicep, “y/n, hey-“

she pulled her arm away, as if his hand was made of lava. “go away, stiles.” his hand stilled in the air where she’d pushed it, fingers flexing at the rejection.

stiles then pressed the hand to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut with frustration, impatience. “y/n, please-“

she looked up at him, jaw slack from her drunken state. her eyes looked darkened, the deadly stare enhanced by her ruined makeup. “what the fuck do you want?”

stiles met her eyes. his face softened, concern overwhelmingly her features. just seeing her face, though it was a wreck- it sent goosebumps across his skin. she was so fucking pretty, even though she’d been crying. why had she been crying?

“i want to talk to you-“

“go away,” she waved him off. y/n then pulled her legs from the pool, dripping water all over the concrete. stiles’ eyes moved down her body, ensuring she was in one piece. he noticed the goosebumps all over her bare arms. she was freezing cold.

he stood with her, following her quick feet. “where’s your jacket?” stiles began to pull off his zip up jacket while she grabbed her shoes. he reached out for her arm again. his fingertips on her shoulder felt like a zap of electricity.

y/n flinched away again. she whipped her head back towards him, a deep frown enlisted on her features, “fuck off, stiles! don’t even try pretend like you care about that shit right now! seriously, go the fuck home! i told you not to come!”

stiles took a step away from her. he wished he knew what he had done so fucking badly. he wanted to kiss her eyelids. he wanted to clean off her makeup, wrap her up in his bedsheets, rub circles into her back until she fell asleep, soundly in his hood.

but, all of that couldn’t really be at the forefront of his mind right now. it couldn’t matter. he was here to protect, whether she wanted him there or not. and, she very obviously did not want him at this party. well, too damn bad. he pushed the thoughts aside.

“i’m not going anywhere,” stiles threw his hands up, as if to challenge her. if she wanted him gone, she’d have to drag him out of there. he continued to follow her. she found a chair and sat down in order to put her shoes on. he continued, “look, i don’t know what i did, but you don’t even understand what’s happening in this town. i have to protect-“

“bro, get the fuck away from her!”

stiles felt a pressure against his chest as someone’s abnormally strong had pushed him away from y/n’s presence. she looked up from her shoe laces that she was struggling to tie, brows furrowing at the sound of stiles’ grunt. she watched as stiles stumbled over his feet. he straightened up, quick, and met the eye of his assailant.

“oh, fuck off, dude,” stiles tilted his head to the side, slowly shaking it in annoyance. his jaw clenched, fists flexed at his sides. he took an intimidating step forward.

y/n glanced between stiles and sam owens, taking a deep, shuddering breath. sam puffed out his chest, towering over stiles by a couple of inches. although he was buffer, taller, a couple years older, he didn’t seem nearly as threatening as stiles did. the devilish qualities to his features seemed to heighten themselves in defiance to sam’s presence.

the black haired boy glared his eyes at sam, pupils blown out out with a stormy darkness. she knew it was wrong, but seeing him so angry at sam- y/n couldn’t help but admit that it made her stomach twirl.

they’d never really had the sam talk, at least she hadn’t told him every single thing. she’d mentioned sam, once, when she and stiles were talking about something else. it was offhanded, when she brought him up. danny, however, had spilled his guts to stiles about the short situationship y/n and that “douchebag” had been in all summer.

and stiles was pissed the fuck off. he knew about sam’s girlfriend at college. he knew sam had used y/n for sex over the summer. he knew that sam had told her he loved her right before breaking up with her.

oh, was stiles angry.

that was, after all, his girl now. and nobody was gonna fuck with stiles’ girl. nobody was gonna fuck with stiles.

he stepped forward, now nearly chest to chest with sam, who replied, “who the fuck are you? y/n told you to leave! want me to show you the door, kid?”

“who the fuck am i? watch your mouth, dickhead. you have no fucking business here-“

y/n quickly stood, wary hands before herself, “stiles, it’s not worth it, i promise.” she stalled his words, but stiles wouldn’t even look over at her. his dark eyes bore a hole through sam, and she knew he was probably going to hit him.

y/n, who was now feeling quite sobered up, glanced to the house. she knew that if they started fighting, stiles would get his ass handed to him. sam was a wrestler in college, the best in his weight class. he was a fucking state champion.

so, she needed to get to danny, who was definitely stronger than stiles, at least. he’d probably be able to keep them apart long enough for her to calm stiles down.

but, she didn’t have any time, because sam was mouthing stiles off again. and stiles really was the best at banter. so, he was getting himself into a lot of trouble.

“you put your fucking hands on her, and she told you to stop. makes it my goddamn business-“

“oh, my god, shut the fuck up!” stiles rolled his eyes at sam. he opened his mouth to shoot off some other sarcastic remark when sam reared back a fist and clipped the side of stiles’ face. stiles nearly fall back on the concrete alongside the pool, but he caught himself. having a werewolf as a best friend had taught him a thing or two. so, he was ready to fight.

stiles hit sam in return, most likely breaking his hand- definitely breaking his hand, he knew it. but the punch tossed sam onto the lounge chair behind him. it surprised both stiles and y/n, who had to jump out of the way. she nearly getting taken out by sam’s thrown body.

stiles met her eye and the sight of her, standing there, scared, softened him. he reached for her, closing the distance between then within two long strides. he set his hands on her biceps, ignoring the throbbing pain in his left one. blood dripped from his cracked knuckles, bleeding onto her skin. she clutched onto his elbows in response, any anger for him washed away by fear and worry.

“shit, are you okay? i’m so-“

before he could continue, y/n was shoved to the ground. she scraped her palms, cut her elbow open, and busted her tailbone, hard, on the concrete. she thought she hit her chin, too, but she couldn’t really tell, because y/n’s vision blurred from the fall.

sam tackled stiles to the ground with another punch. they landed in the grass, and went at each other. it took y/n a second to clear her pained head, but she managed to push herself up on her feet. some of their classmates continued partying around them, most just ignoring the fight. but a small crowd gathered to watch it, like it was something exciting, something fun to do. the bystanders made y/n feel sick. nobody was doing anything.

she didn’t even take a second to look at stiles, knowing that seeing him like that would stall her in her tracks. instead, she turned towards jack’s house, danny’s name screeching out of her throat.

she ran inside, feeling like she was pushing through thick, slow jello. she continued to yell out his name. luckily, she found him, on the dance floor still. ethan was there, too. good- he could help.

ethan was already meeting her, setting a kind hand on her arm. “what’s wrong?” his eyes glazed over, and he looked to the side, as though he could hear the fight. he ran outside.

danny shoved through the crowd, towards her. he caught her chin in his hand examining her wounds, “what the fuck happened? what’s going on?”

y/n, breathing heavily, sobbing again, stumbled out, “sam and stiles!”

danny pushed aside as he fell into a run. y/n followed, though the burning of her cuts and scrapes became more intense on her nerves. she seethed a breath between her teeth, stumbling over her feet, but pushed on.

ethan had shoved sam to the grass, though he was getting back up, again. danny immediately lunged in between them before sam could get to stiles. danny sent a harsh punch to sam’s gut, forcing him backwards again. danny then grabbed stiles by the shirt, helped him become balanced on his feet, before danny pushed him away, too. ethan came back in, grabbing stiles around the chest to hold him back, though stiles fought against the tight hold. sam somehow got up, again, clutching his stomach, and jumped towards stiles. danny punched him again and shook out his fist after. the look on his face was annoyed, but also, somehow, vengeful. he had been waiting all summer, all of fall, to punch this motherfucker.

“fuck you guys!” sam spat at danny and stiles from his knees, more blood trailing down his already slick chin.

stiles grunted, fighting against ethan’s hold. “you’re a piece of fucking shit! pussy ass bitch-“

“shut the fuck up-“ sam cut him off, then added, “i don’t even give a fuck about that bitch!“

danny shook his head at the words spitting from sam’s mouth. stiles looked angrier, if at all possible. ethan’s hold loosened on him, shocked by the insults sam threw at y/n. ethan did care for her, too, even if he barely knew her. she was everything to danny.

all three boys were seething with anger. sam had called her a bitch, and they did not like that.

sam simply smirked up at them, his words and expression challenging them. he went to wipe his mouth with his sleeve, but he didn’t get a chance to even take another breath because danny had lunged after him again.

ethan let go of stiles, purposefully, and the boy followed suit. ethan, a little more controlled- even though the situation pissed him off, too- grabbed danny, but not before allowing him to get a few punches in.

y/n ran forward and tried to grab stiles’ arm. she failed, and instead tripped over his shoe. she tumbled into the grass. she quickly pulled herself up, again. when she looked for stiles, she saw him being restricted again, this time by scott’s arm. she didn’t know when he had arrived, but she was glad for the extra help.

it made her heart swell that all of these men cared about her so much to fight sam like they were, but it really needed to end already. it shouldn’t have even gotten out of hand in the first place. she was nauseous, hurting in all of the places she’d been wounded, and extremely tired from the alcohol still coursing through her system.

y/n stood up. scott was rushing out words to his friend, “hey! stiles! stiles, cmon, dude! calm down! stiles!”

“stiles!” y/n called. she crouched down in front of him, reaching for his face.

stiles finally met her eyes and a steady rhythm graciously caught his breath. she cupped his jaw in her delicate fingers. his blood smeared across his face, all over her hands.

a few tears ran down his face, falling into her palms. she didn’t know why he was crying, if it was because of his injuries or his anger. but she wiped them away with her thumbs.

“it’s okay, baby,” she whispered, for only him to hear. “i’m okay, it’s okay. please, just calm down.”

scott, who had let go of stiles, turned to sam, who was standing up from the ground. scott was charismatic, and could usually easily demand people. he put out a cautious hand towards sam, “leave it, buddy. just leave it, trust me,” scott warned him.

stiles slumped forward, on his knees. y/n squatted, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. she used all of her strength to stand them up, brushing the sweaty, bloody hair from his face. sam watched her tenderness as she cared for stiles, feeling a surge of jealousy. sam knew he didn’t want her. he knew he had willingly given her up. but, that didn’t mean he wanted anybody else to get to have her.

so, just when it seemed like it was over, sam scoffed, “yeah, you’re right. i’ll leave it. she’s not worth it. she’s just an easy fuck and a cheap ass date-“

now, scott was angry. he roared, and y/n thought she saw his eyes flash a bright red. he went after sam, just to shut his stupid fucking mouth. he swept past y/n and stiles, who clutched onto her waistline protectively. he tried to duck them out of the way, but his foot skidded over the concrete, and they tripped towards the water.

she yelped, clutching onto his neck, as they fell into the pool. the water enveloped them, but tore them from one another. y/n kicked her feet sporadically, shocked by the cold, by the alarming fall they’d taken. she grabbed for stiles’ shirt and gratefully felt his hands fluttering for her hips.

she blew out a lot of bubbles, struggling to hold her breath from all of the shock. stiles tugged her tightly against him, again, and swam them to the surface. y/n wrapped her legs around his waist and clutched onto his shoulders. she was shaking, with fear, with pain, from the cold water nipping at her skin. it was all so much all at once that she just laughed.

stiles stared at her as she tossed her head back, giggling like a maniac. he furrowed hit brows, jutted his chin out, “what are you laughing about?”

y/n barely met his eye, continuing to laugh at the fucked up situation. “this is just so stupid!”

he remembered she was drunk and tapped her hip, “okay, let’s get you out of here-“

“it’s stupid, stiles!” she slapped a hand down onto his shoulder. “you’re stupid! that fight was fucking stupid! sam’s stupid! this night is stupid! i’m stupid!”

“why am i- why are you stupid?” he didn’t want to make it all about him. she was clearly grappling with something, something she needed to talk out.

she couldn’t continue to push everything away, including him. “i’m stupid! i let you and that stupid boy fuck up everything! i let it happen not once, but twice! what is it- fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me? i’m a fool! you and sam are, like- oh, my god, im just stupid. and that was so fucking stupid- you and sam fighting over me! you guys fought over me, but both of you are the reason im so fucked up in the first place! it’s your guys’ fault and you just had some stupid pissing contest-!”

“me and sam?” stiles sounded out his words carefully, working through her rambles in his fuzzy head.

the night she’d ran out of his house, in a craze, a mess because of his phone blowing up- what had triggered that?

who had called stiles that night? who had been blowing up his phone? was it-

it was lydia.

lydia, the girl everyone at beacon hills high knew he’d had a major crush on for, like basically, ever.

y/n must have looked at his phone. she must have put together, based off of the texts he’d been sent, based off all of the context clues laying right in front of him, that he and lydia were together.

meanwhile, am had had a girlfriend the entire time he and y/n had gone out. every day, he’d see his girlfriend. then, usually on the weekends, when it was dark, he’d bring y/n out like a toy.

y/n thought stiles was just like sam. y/n thought stiles was using her.

she had no clue that she was everything and the sun to him. she had no clue that he needed her like water, that he craved her like wine. she didn’t know that he spent every night rereading their texts, analyzing their conversations, going over their interactions, decoding everything to find a way for her to love him despite her hurt, despite what they agreed on.

she was used to being broken by people who claimed to love her, and stiles was just another part of that system.

so, he needed to tell. right now.

stiles gripped onto her hips, shaking her body just once so she’d meet his eyes. “listen-“

“no, just- get me out-“

“y/n, you beautiful, gorgeous, sweet woman- just listen to me! okay? just listen!” stiles demanded, “i’m not with lydia, alright? i’ve never been with her. i don’t want her- i’m in-“

“stiles!” scott called his name from above, standing at the edge of the pool. his eyes still glowed red, his face was still morphed into that of a wolf. scott’s chest puffed out, in, heavily, with deep, ragged breaths.

stiles knew something was wrong based off of his friend’s demeanor.

“we have to get to the school. lydia’s in trouble.”

stiles looked to y/n, who’s face had lit up from the possibility of stiles’ words. her expression morphed into confusion. he wanted to say something, to say sorry. but, he couldn’t. he couldn’t focus.

so, y/n took her turn to speak, graciously replying with, “stiles, i know there’s so much that you’re still hiding from me-“ she glanced up at scott, who tilted his head with shame, “so, i’m coming with you. if you want me to trust you, i have to come with you. i have to know.”

stiles knew she was right.

so he drug her, head first, into the world of the supernatural.