#this was the only one i had a very clear idea for what i wanted
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hiii i have a request for gwinam ^_^ - maybe something when he is walking in the school after being bitten and he finds reader, who is a ver shy & overvall cutesy person, and gwinam has had a crush on her for a very long timee ,, maybe him founding her leading to a confession and then it gets spicy ??
take ur time !! 🎀 (dont mind it if u take the request and turn it into headcanons, i know u are just writing like that rn :33)
Yoon Gwi-Nam - Shy!reader (detailed) headcannons
Synopsis: gwinam with a shy reader (me core)..
A/N: i love him so much he will return in season two trust !! this is not proof read for the record..
Warnings: smut content, it's yoon gwinam (actually he's sort of soft i'm ngl)
➠ Gwinam very much felt like God given his current situation. He was bitten by zombies after Cheongsan had the guts to both gouge his eye out and push him off the bookcase into the hoard of zombies but Gwinam had survived. He was convinced that it was destiny. That he was given the gift of immunity so he could carry out what he believed to be his sole purpose: revenge on Cheongsan.
➠ At least, that was what he had believed to be his reason for surviving. Until he caught a very familiar scent. Being bitten by zombies had given him enhanced strength, enhanced vision- enhanced everything really. But it most importantly gave him an amazing sense of smell. He could smell the light, lingering scent of perfume and he knew exactly who it belonged to.
➠ You. Pretty and adorable you. Far before the apocalypse had occurred, he had formed a crush on you. You were shy and there was something so endearing about your nervous behavior that had him desperate for you. He was very aware of the fact that his feelings may not be reciprocated because, well, he was the total opposite of you and quite violent but now, with every other student being living corpses and no one for you to turn to, it's only logical you'd depend on him, right?
➠ A smirk settled on his face at the idea of having you utterly dependent on him. Now, he had two reasons for survival. One: Kill Cheongsan, and two: have you all to himself. With your scent clouding all his senses, he pushed Cheongsan to the back of his mind and set out to find which classroom you must be hiding in. He was sure that if he swooped in like a knight in shining armor, you'd immediately fall in love with him and live a sweet happy ever after.
➠ When he stumbled across the room you were hiding in, he came face to face with a very scared you. He could hear how fast your heart was racing and you quiet sniffles - a clear indicator you were (or at least had been) crying. The sound of your fear drove him mad for all the wrong reasons. He had already promised himself to never let anything happen to your sweet and innocent face so you could stay happy and that promise especially applied to the current problem.
➠ Without another word, he slammed the door open and walked in, an action that made you flinch as you quickly stood up. You had assumed a zombie had somehow forced it's way in but, when you looked at the source, you couldn't exactly tell. He didn't look like a rotting corpse but there was a lot of blood on him that gave you the feeling he wasn't exactly human either.
➠ He shut the door behind him to ensure no zombie could follow after him and eat your pretty flesh. After all, he didn't want you to die now that he found you. You'd be useless as a zombie and he'd rather not have to leave your rotting corpse behind.
➠ "What's wrong? You look a little scared," he spoke with a slight smirk. He found your fear slightly amusing now since he knew you'd absolutely be fine with him around to protect you. He'd be damned if he let you die in this hell hole.
➠ The surprise on your face when he finally talked was enough to make him laugh. He found your evident confusion amusing and he watched your eyes look him up and down several times as you assessed his condition.
➠ As if realizing he looked less than decent, he quickly raised a hand and wiped the blood around his mouth away and onto the sleeve of the white jacket he had stolen. He wasn't trying to scare you away from him, just scare you toward him but the blood on his face certainly wouldn't help him at all.
➠ "W-what happened to you..?" You questioned nervously as you made no move to get closer. He didn't want to be entirely honest because he could only assume you'd run if you realized he had already been bitten several times. It'd be better to lie to you for now so he could get close to you and make sure you don't escape him.
➠ "Nothing. Just got in a fight with another student," he responds as he slowly starts walking closer to you. Of course, you seemed skeptical of his words but he wasn't lying - he was just hiding certain parts of the story.
➠ It was quiet for a few seconds before you seemed to relax in his presence, believing his slight lie. He was slightly taken aback when you immediately walked over to him and pulled his face down to investigate his injury. The way your eyes scanned over his wounded eye made him feel something very new. A different warm feeling in his heart.
➠ "I don't really know much about health and injuries but maybe your eye could get infected if you don't treat it soon," you speak with a sheepish smile before pulling back a little. Your genuine concern for him was so adorable given what type of person was. He definitely didn't deserve your kindness but he took it anyway because he was greedy for you.
➠ "There might be a medkit in here," you speak as you make a move to turn away to search the room. Gwinam doesn't let you get far though and quickly grabs your hand to pull you back. "It's fine, it doesn't hurt or anything. I'm used to it," he speaks as he looks down at your concerned face.
➠ God, you were the cutest thing to him. Your big eyes, you're pretty eyelashes, the way your lips were in a slight pout because you were oh so concerned for him. Not to mention how you were noticeably smaller than him. God, every inch of you was perfect - utterly adorable.
➠ "Are you sure?" You ask curiously and he smirked as a thought crossed his mind at your words. "Well, there is one issue," he spoke as he looked down at you. Of course, your curiosity was peaked so you immediately questioned what the issue was - hoping to help him fix it.
➠ "I lied when I said it doesn't hurt. It does. I think I need someone to kiss it better," he says, his smirk only growing wider. His words pushed you into a stunned silence before you looked away and awkwardly smiled with a slight blush. Your reaction to his words only fueled his confidence as he pushed you to do it.
➠ Miraculously, he had actually managed to convince you despite how shy you seemed about the whole situation. He watched as you stood on your tippy toes and leaned closer. It was an adorable sight, watching you try reach up to give him a quick kiss. He couldn't stop the smile that spread on his face just like he couldn't stop himself from pressing his lips to yours.
➠ To ensure you didn't try pull away, he placed a hand on the back of your head to keep you close as he kissed you. You didn't reciprocate the kiss at first and he knew he'd have to coax you into it. He knew you were probably freaking out internally and far too shy to return his forward action.
➠ After what was a very long kiss, he pulled away with a smirk before licking his lips. "You're so tense. It's just me. Unless.. you don't want to kiss me?" he says teasingly. He can see the look on your face and, god, he'd love to still have his phone right about now so he could take a photo and capture it forever.
➠ If you were being honest with yourself, you weren't exactly against the kiss. You had seen him around school before the outbreak and you had heard of his tendency to bully students but you felt so drawn towards him. You couldn't help yourself - especially when he made it a point to stare at you from afar or brush his hand against yours when walking past in the hallway. He had really wormed his way into your heart.
➠ He stayed quiet for a few moments, letting you process what just happened before he leaned down and kissed you again. This time you reciprocated, more in tune with how you felt, and he was a little too pleased about that. He couldn't help himself when he started to kiss you with more passion before pulling away and trailing messy kisses down your neck and throat.
➠ It didn't take long before he had his cock inside you, pounding away at you with a bundle of grunts and groans leaving his mouth. He had you pressed against the wall, his hands on your thighs as he held you up and fucked his cock up into you. You felt so perfect around him - like you were made for his cock and it was driving him crazy.
➠ Every cry and moan and whimper that escaped your mouth drove him to use more force. He wanted you to cum on his cock. He wanted to fill you with his own cum too. He wanted to claim you and keep you as his forever. Not like you had anywhere else to go, Gwinam had decided that nobody would have you like this except for him. He'd be the only one allowed near you - allowed access to your perfect, tight hole.
➠ As he neared closer to the edge of what was sure to be his best release, he opted for a new position. He quickly moved you to the floor and pinned you down before practically folding you in half and thrusting fast and hard once again.
➠ The new position helped him to reach even deeper and he could feel your walls tighten around him, a clear sign you'd cum all over his cock soon. God, he couldn't wait to watch you come undone. He wanted to make you scream even if it caused every zombie within the school to run towards the classroom. Not like they could lay a finger on you anyway. He'd be damned if he let some corpse kill you now when he finally got his dick wet with your cum.
➠ The moment you do cum, he's cumming with you and neither of you were quiet about it. You both let out a loud moan as he continued to thrust inside of you as he orgasmed. "You're so fucking tight, fuck!" Gwinam cursed out as his thrusts slowed before eventually coming to a stop. He made no move to pull out though, wanting to make sure his seed stays inside of you.
➠ The classroom went quiet as the only sounds were the heavy breaths of both you and Gwinam. He had never felt so amazing in his life and now he knew for sure you were perfect for him.
─── "I'm never letting you go, you hear? I'm going to fuck your tight hole everyday now and make you my pretty doll,"
#xaeinfinity#aouad x reader#aouad#all of us are dead#gwi nam#all of us are dead x reader#kdrama#gwi nam x reader
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Double, Double, Combo- Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader + Twin! Ji-Yong: part 2
Summary: After finally being cleared to perform again, you were determined to show the boys that nobody could perform like you did. Ending with you and your brother's groups celebrating a good tour so far, causing feelings to be brought to the surface between you and your brother's best friend
Warnings: Reader getting drunk <3, other than that none lovelies!
Translations!:
Oppa: Older Brother
Yeo-Dongsaeng: Younger sister
Umma: Mother/mom
Aein: Sweetheart
As always if I've mistranslated something, or missused a word, please let me know! As I am very rusty in Korean, I am learning though! <33
Watching the boys perform your set, you were in awe, mainly over how into it the boys were, each of them hitting every mark for the choreography, doing better than they would have with their own. Whenever you were finally cleared to return back to work, you were determined to show them up, wanting to prove to them and your fans, nobody could do your concerts like you do.
"Yeo-Dongsaeng!" Ji-Yong shouted, marching his way up to the stage as you panted loudly, trying your best to catch your breath before he made it to you. "Yes? Can I help you?" You asked, tilting your head slightly, knowing exactly what he was going to bring up "What changes are you making? And why did you tell YG to not tell me what they are?" He asked sternly, not liking the idea of you having full control over something, it wasn't that he didn't trust you, he did, he just didn't trust your free-will decisions. "It's fine! It's fine! Dae-Sung, and the girls are helping!" You smiled, trying to assure your brother that you had everything under control. Ji-Yong just huffed, whining softly "Just tell me!" He groaned, letting his head fall back as you just shook your head "Nope! You'll see tomorrow night at the show" You smiled, knowing your specific moves you had changed, were perfectly timed to Ji-Yong being off stage during a costume change.
Whenever the time would come for your section of the show, you'd be a nervous wreck, standing on your mark as you started to lowly sing into the microphone. Your album you and group had just released meant a lot to you, after constantly being seen as 'the baby of k-pop' you were determined to show the industry that you were a grown woman now. Swinging your hips to the music, you held your note, following the backtrack in your earpiece as you moved your hands down your torso, biting your lip as you smiled. As you smirked, you slowly slid to your knees, almost moaning the ending lyrics of your song as the music faded out. Your back-up dancers and the girls made their way to their next mark as you panted softly, glancing to the camera that filmed your performance and broadcasted to the big screen, smirking as you bit your bottom lip, bouncing back up to your feet to make your way over to your spot. Noticing as Seung Hyun stood off to the side of the stage, watching in shock before giving you a soft, sly smirk, causing a blush to rise on your cheeks.
You laughed softly as you heard the arena screaming loudly, knowing your brother would hear it, at least YG would be happy about the positive feedback to your last minute change in choreography. You'd have fun the rest of the show, your body getting the much-needed rest it lacked, allowing you to put your all into the performance, while not completely draining your body of every ounce of energy. Rushing off stage, you smiled brightly, turning around to face your group members, squealing loudly as you celebrated the successful show. "What. Was. That?" Ji-Yong asked, his tone was stern, giving you a harsh, protective glare "That was your sister making history, that boy groups aren't the only mature ones in K-pop" You huffed, turning your back to your brother, who just turned you back around by your shoulder "That was you doing something that Umma won't be happy about" He rephrased your statement, causing you to giggle softly "Umma saw it first, said I look beautiful" You smirked, watching as he stared in shock "You can do that and Umma doesn't get upset, but I have to hide tattoos!?" Ji-Yong laughed, you relaxed a little bit hearing him start to joke around, showing he wasn't too upset about your dance moves.
Whenever you all made it back to your shared hotel suite, you were all quick to let loose, knowing you had a three day break in-between shows, you were all going to enjoy it, with alcohol. While You and Ji-Yong were extremely similar, whenever you both were drunk? You were complete opposites. Ji-Yong ended up turning into the princess of the group, not wanting to move unless necessary, constantly fanning his face like he was royalty, or constantly gossiping your secrets, unless you had gotten to him first to stop him; You were outgoing, loud, and confrontational, always wanting to have the best time possible. As you danced around the suite with your bandmate, you weren't aware of your brother's gossiping to the group of guys a few feet away. "Y/n likes Seung Hyun, but DO NOT tell him, cause she lovesss him" He slurred, smiling softly as Seung Hyun blushed brightly, all eight of you were either tipsy, or drunk, there was no in between. Skipping over to the boys, right as your brother finished his sentence "Oppppa! What'd you say?" You accused, glaring at your brother as he was quick to cover his face laughing "Ji-Yong! What'd you say!" You repeated yourself, feeling your frustrations start to grow as he stood up "I told them you like Seung Hyun" He stated, before grabbing your hand gently "Listen to me, Yeo-Donsaeng! You two are meant for each other! You're perfect together!" He argued, you just huffed "No! You listen to me!" You shot back, poking his chest "Okay...I'm listening.." Ji-Yong replied, tilting his head, the others sitting and watching the two of you, it was already entertaining to watch you both argue, but it was even funnier watching you both argue while drunk. "What are you listening to? I wanna hear! Please!" You gasped, clearly too drunk to remember what the hell you were just talking about, jumping over to stand next to him as you looked around curiously, Seung Hyun couldn't hold back his laugh as he heard you. You just continued bouncing in your spot, looking at Ji-Yong expectantly "I'm listening to you!" He laughed loudly, holding your shoulders gently as he calmed your jumping "Oh! Ohh~" You stated, piecing together what was going on, your expression going from excited to frustrated again. "I like Seung Hyun! I don’t like you right now, Ji! So stop spilling my business to everybody!" You argued, poking your brother's cheek as he tried to keep his balance, the alcohol starting to hit you both. "Seee! I told you, Seung Hyun!" Ji-Yong slurred, turning to his tipsy friend, watching as he just chuckled and shook his head "Stop! You're telling my business, oppa!" You whined loudly, smacking your brother's chest quickly, he just huffed, grabbing your wrists as gently as he could "I'm not! I just want to see my yeo-dongsaeng happy!" He replied, almost like he was begging you to get with Seung Hyun already, you just huffed "I'd be happier if you stopped" Smiling playfully at him, your pout returned quickly as Ji-Yong just quickly shook his head "Rude, I oughta...I'm calling Umma!" You shouted, rushing to your phone as your bandmate snatched it first, giggling, Seung Hyun and Tae-Yang quickly restraining you and your brother. "I think, you two should go to bed" Tae-Yang laughed softly, watching as you went limp in Seung Hyun's arms, trying to make it harder for him to carry you. Seung Hyun just lifted you up, effortlessly carrying you while following behind his two other friends "Wait! I wanna sleep in Ji's room!" You protested as the boys forced you to part ways, your statement causing Seung Hyun to turn around quickly, rushing to catch back up with Tae-Yang and your brother.
As you laid in the hotel room bed, you huffed, everybody was either laying down or asleep now, and your brother was taking all of the blankets, leaving you to freeze. "Ji..Ji" you whispered, trying to shake him, or at least take some blankets back, he just stayed in his spot, sleeping peacefully. You sat up, determined to find another blanket or something, you were NOT cuddling with your brother in order to share the blanket, he'd probably try and smother you anyways. Standing up, you turned around to see your options, your bandmates had all made make-shift beds in the floor, and your brother's bandmates were fast asleep in their beds, making it seem like a real sleepover. As you tiredly made your way out of the bedroom area of the suite, you went into your room, snatching your blanket off of the bed, before going right back to the other room. You crawled into what you thought was the giant bed that you and your twin were currently sharing, instead never noticing the tall, older bandmember fast asleep with his back turned to you.
As Seung Hyun felt someone lay down next to him, he slowly turned his head to try and see who, relaxing whenever he saw the soft f/c of your nightshirt. "Y/n, Aein, you're in the wrong bed" He chuckled, turning around slowly to fully face you. At this point, you weren't concerned with any of it, the tiredness and remaining bits of alcohol in your system made you worried about one thing, warmth. Whenever Seung Hyun turned, you could practically feel his body heat radiating off of him, causing you to quickly scoot closer, pressing your body against his as you wrapped your arms around him tightly "J-Ji took the blankets, it's cold in here" You whispered, trying to find the best position to lay in to warm up the fastest, Seung Hyun just laughed softly, wrapping an arm around you to pull you closer. "Stop wiggling like a worm, and come here" He laughed, watching as you pulled his blanket up to your cheeks "I can't help it, you're really fucking warm" You giggled blushing as Seung Hyun pulled you even closer, your head and chest now laying on his, you suddenly became very sober and very aware of the closeness with your crush, his heartbeat racing, how amazingly warm he somehow was, how soft his hair felt whenever it brushed against your face anytime he'd let his head fall while laughing. "Ladies say it's because T.O.P is just too hot" He chuckled playfully, you covered your mouth, trying your best to quiet your laughs "You're adorable, truly, you are" You managed to get out through your giggles, Seung Hyun just shaking his head, keeping his arm wrapped around you tightly "Are you feeling any warmer?" He whispered after a moment, frowning whenever you didn't reply, as he glanced down, his heart fluttered. You were sleeping peacefully with your head rested on his chest, your hand gently placed over his side as you held his hand loosely, Seung Hyun could feel his heart racing even more after that, almost like it was going to explode.
Waking up the next morning, you were met with your bandmates, brother, and his bandmates surrounding you and Seung Hyun excitedly “you two are so cuteee!” Dae-Sung smiled excitedly, hugging your brother in excitement “leave me aloneee!” Seung Hyun groaned tiredly, rolling to face away from all of the others, after a moment, he turned back around pulling the blankets over your heads “this is better, I can see you this way” he smiled, you were in awe with everything, his voice whenever he first woke up, his messy hair, his cute sleepy smile. “Thanks for keeping me warm last night, I really thought I was going to freeze to death at one point” you giggled softly, hugging him gently before gasping “they have a coffee bar downstairs..wanna go with me?” You smiled softly, watching as his eyes lit up “why did nobody tell me about that?!” He gasped, throwing the blankets off of you both, jumping to his feet before offering his hand to you. “We’re going to go get coffee!” You smiled excitedly, waving to your brother before rushing off with Seung Hyun. The both of you rushed down the hotel stairs, giggling like children as you made it to the breakfast area of the hotel, a counter covered in nothing but different coffees, syrups, sugars, flavoring.
As you both sat at one of the small tables, you giggled watching as Seung Hyun finished yet another cup of coffee that you had made for him “see! It's good! And you said my coffee looks like it’d give you a cavity!” You giggled, he just smiled at you softly shaking his head “it probably will! But it tastes good” He protested laughing softly, you just rolled your eyes, knowing he secretly loved the drink, lifting your cup to your lips taking a sip, you noticed Seung Hyun watching from over the rim of your mug. Placing the cup down you raised your eyebrow at him “can I help you?” You asked playfully, reaching to wipe your mouth before Seung Hyun grabbed your wrist gently, grimacing at the thought of you wiping the foam from your coffee off of your mouth with your hand, something you did often “that’s not very sanitary, Aein” he laughed before standing up, leaning over the table to press his lips against yours, your cheeks immediately heating up with a bright blush. Kissing him back softly, Seung Hyun’s hand slowly found its way to cup your cheek, you felt your stomach flip and your skin tingle as you slowly pulled away from him, offering him a sweet smile “what has gotten into you, Sir?” You asked teasingly, he laughed softly, fidgeting with his hands as he spoke “Well, technically speaking, three cups of coffee, emotionally? I have fallen for you hard, Kwon Y/n, harder than I have any women, and it’s confusing, but I want to be confused with you?” he explained, almost like he was questioning his words as he spoke, you smiled, swearing you could hear your own heartbeat racing as you rested a hand on his cheek “Well..I mean..I think it’s kind of obvious from my rant last night, I feel the same” you sheepishly admitted, remembering your ‘argument’ with your twin brother in front of everybody. “So we’re doing this?” Seung Hyun asked, taking your hand in his, trying to contain his excitement that was mixed with nervousness “I guess we are” you smiled shyly, bringing him closer to place your lips on his again, Seung Hyun could feel his body relax, hearing your confirmation and your lips against his. Almost like it was planned, the others walked in, looking at you both in shock “Oh My..god” Ji-Yong whispered watching as you quickly pulled away, hiding your face, unsure of his reaction. Ji-Yong was always trying to get you two together, so he should be excited..right?
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You like lovelies? I tried adding a little more length this this part <3 I never really noticed how short they were until the other day scrolling through on my phone (I usually write on my laptop) so please let me know how you like it! And if you prefer longer fics like this or the shorter ones <33 excited to hear from you lovelies!! <333
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Taglist!!!
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Cramps Be Gone
Loki X Reader Fluff
Summary: You’re on your period, you’re frustrated, and Loki’s there to help you.
A/n: I got this idea on day one of my period, so… here we are.
The day could’ve been much more cheerful. You and Loki originally planned to go out today. Instead, you were curled up in your bed, groaning every other minute. Why? Because a very unwanted guest showed up at your door this morning. Guess who? None other than your monthly bleed-out session, aka period.
You were lying in your bed with the unhappy knowledge that this will not end anytime soon. Waves upon waves of stab-like pains shot through your lower abdomen, making you groan and press down on that spot. You were tired. So damn tired of it. You were looking forward to this date, but now it’s ruined. You were originally thinking about taking painkillers, but Loki absolutely disagreed.
‘Painkillers,’ he said strictly, ‘are merely something Midgardians came up with to gain more money. They do not help conquer it; it only allows them to forget about it. If you use such things, y/n, believe me, you will behave carelessly and only worsen it and wish me to get you more. Therefore, no, you will not be using such trashy Midgardian medicine. It isn’t even medicine, in my eyes.’ He added, pulling a face.
Loki was there for you, of course. He was always there to help you with your needs, he even let you have breakfast in bed (something he doesn’t usually allow. ‘You’ll dirty everything,’ he used to say in a tone of finality). But he wasn’t there for the most part. He has work to do, you know this, but you still wished he could give it all up and just stay with you. Flipping over under your blankets, you resumed cursing your life.
I’m lonely, you thought sadly, your head under your blankets. You wished your period showed up just one day later. You and Loki have been dating for nearly a month now, it was clear to you that your time of the month was going to hit anytime. But why on this day? On the one day you don’t want it?
You were, not gonna lie, very frustrated. And angry. In need of something (or someone) to rage to, you started blaming your boyfriend for your pain. What was possibly so important that he had to leave you? Couldn’t he leave it till your bleeding days were over? Why? That word seemed to exist in every single thought you had flowing in your head. Why?
On day three it was going terrifying. It was hurting so much you couldn’t even bring yourself to sit upright in your bed. You prayed it would be over, but apparently your prayers were ignored. Oh, how you’d like this shit to finally just end. Loki had to feed you breakfast, it was so painful. He even teased you. Like, is this guy for real? (‘I mean, I could make it go away for nine months…’ he had said while smirking. You slapped his hand, scrunching up your face.) But after that he just pressed a kiss to your forehead and walked out. Sometimes you regret dating this guy.
It was nearly noon when he came back. Your aches soothed a little, but were almost just the same as before. He sat down at the edge of your bed, brushing a strand of your hair out of your face.
‘Oh, now you decide to show up,’ you groaned, ‘now that I’m literally dying in my bed. How was work?’ you put emphasis on the word ‘work’ as you knew he must feel at least slightly guilty about leaving you hanging. He opened his mouth, took a deep breath, and said: ‘Well, about that…’ He looked at you with a pleading look, as if wishing for you not to get angry for what he was going to say. You narrowed your eyes, staring back with a suspicious look.
‘What?’ you asked, your breathing kind of shallow due to the pain throbbing in your lower abdomen. ‘What wonderful surprise have you prepared for me?’ Loki sighed, as if preparing himself for a scolding, and said: ‘I have not been working. Or at least, I wasn’t doing Avengers’ work.’
You bolted upright, causing a stab of pain to shoot through your body. His hand instinctively rose to hold your back and lead you back down. ‘What?! So you’re telling me that you weren’t even doing important shit while I was mentally and physically dying?! What-‘ he put a finger to your lips to shush you. ‘Let me finish,’ he said gently. You reluctantly laid back down, staring at him with accusatory eyes.
‘I have been working, darling. For the past few days I have been digging through my books to find a safe and healthy painkiller for you. You see, Asgardians value health over money, and we have much safer medicines than those on Midgard.’ He says, brushing his hand over your hurting part over your blanket. Heavens, he looked hot when he looked at you with these loving eyes.
Even after listening to his explanation, you still wanted to blame him. Keeping that annoyed look on your face, you whined at him: ‘Well… that’s very… nice of you. But- you should’ve told me beforehand! I thought you were being careless and didn’t give a shit about me! I was so upset.’ Loki looked at you knowingly before answering: ‘Honey, if I told you, you would’ve distracted me with your rushes and caused me to slow down my pace.’
‘Fuck you.’
‘After you’ve recovered, darling.’ He replied, smirking. You rolled your eyes, your cheeks reddening. This man knows exactly how to get to you, you can give him that.
With a swift move, he slipped your blanket off. You shivered slightly at the sudden chill, but Loki reassured you that it wasn’t going to take long. Softly, he brushed his hand over your abdomen, and you felt a warmth surge through where he touched. Soon, you could feel the pain leaving you, finally giving you peace. You sighed, relieved that it was all finally over. You laid back down, closing your eyes and drinking in the fact that Loki was your lover.
‘Be careful,’ he warned as you beamed at him, ‘you may stain easier, now that you don’t feel it.’ You didn’t even wait for him to finish before half-singing: ‘Yeah, yeah, I know-‘ you were suddenly so happy that your period said bye-bye, you thought Loki might’ve given you a cheer-up spell or something.
Eager, you tried to get out of bed, but only got shoved back in. You pouted up at him, staring into his blue eyes. ‘Just because you don’t feel it does not mean it is no longer there. Stay in bed.’ He said.
You hmphed at him, burrowing back into the sheets to sulk. Loki smiles. What a girl he had found.
HELLO! Hope you enjoyed it :D My posting is still kinda limited, thank you for your patience
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#god of mischief#loki marvel#loki fanfiction#loki x reader#loki x you#loki#loki x reader fluff#loki laufeyson#loki fanfic#loki x y/n
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Sliding into your dms because your pretending to be a man idea got into my brain and won't leave me alone. We'll have to suffer together okay.
Imagine you're a daughter of some lowly destitute baron, he died and now all you have is a house and your brother, Alex. You have to sell the house because your father had debt that hasn't been settled. Luckily, you'll still have money left from the sale. Unluckily, the money is not much. You can either use it to send Alex to the royal academy or you can use it as your marriage dowry, of which your prospect isn't great anyway since you're poor and barely even a noble. Alex wants you to use the money, he's long been disillusioned with the king (Shepherd) and he wants to go help the neighbouring kingdom fight off their invader. He'll sleep easier knowing you have a roof over your head. Still, the thought of being married to some strange old men makes you want to throw up. You think you'd rather die. But you also don't want to stop Alex from pursuing his dream. So you and Alex came up with the idea that will satisfy you both: you will take his place in the royal academy and he can leave in peace, knowing you'll be safer in the academy than alone without a house in the countryside. He'll tell people that he's sent you to live with some distant relatives somewhere.
Years pass and you thrive in the academy. You graduate and despite having no connections or wealth, your capability lands you a job inside the palace. It's nothing fancy, and likely you won't go very far working under a neglected concubine, but she's very nice and funny. The salary is also good enough that you think if you keep working for a few years you can buy a small house and retire back to the countryside. Maybe you'll even stay longer just to accompany your mistress.
All in all, life is nice and uneventful. The great nobles and the king might be fighting, but you and your mistress are so far down the political ladder it barely affects you. Or so you thought and so it should have been, if not for your mistress starting a genuine love affair with Marchioness Laswell.
Your mistress' affection for you causes Laswell to pay attention to you. And unfortunately for you, she's seen the real Alex before. She knows you're a fraud. You think you're done for, but Laswell says she understands why you do it. She says she won't let the public learn your secret.
And she doesn't, because Duke Price isn't the public. He's just a Duke in desperate need of a wife. Someone to help him escape the disadvantageous match that will only put him under Shepherd's control once more. What a good luck he has to meet you, a noble who is unaffiliated with king, at this exact time. Surely you'll be willing to help him out? Being a duchess is certainly better than pretending to be a guy. It's definitely less risky, he says. Do you know that using someone else's identity can get you to jail? What if the king finds out and thinks you're plotting treason? Off with your pretty little head then. Surely being his duchess would be safer. He'll protect you. Take care of you. Spoil you, even. You and your good birthing hips and however many kids you two will have.
TLDR, you pretend to be a guy to escape marrying strange old men only to marry another (worse) strange old man
So first of all. I LOVE THIS. And now for my paltry additions….
I think that once Price found out about you, he became extremely fixated for a number of reasons. One? He’d met you before. He visited the academy as an alumni, occasionally donated to the institute, and would visit to check on the allocation of those funds.
And he remembers seeing you, swimming in your too-large uniform. Absolutely decimating your studies. In his observation of the academy, he’d unwittingly found himself following you around to your different lessons and seeing you sweep the floor with every other student. It was clear you were extremely bright, and he heard the whisperings about you.
A shame about your lowly birth. You might’ve made a fine tactician.
Price, as a rather meritocratic man, wanted to have you in his service as soon as you graduated. But as with many of the finest things in the kingdom, you were plucked up and handed off as something of a present to one of the king’s newer, shinier consorts.
So when Laswell starts her dalliance with that very consort, it sparks a memory in Price. And he asks after you. Which gets Laswell to commit you more to memory when she meets with you. And suddenly it’s quite obvious. She tells Price all about it, with amusement on her face, at one of their weekly meetings.
Suddenly there’s a little click in his brain. Like everything’s slotting into place. He was denied you once, in one way, and it won’t happen again. Now he can have you in all ways. With the forces at his disposal, and your brilliance in tactics and writing, he may well have the makings of some serious political sabotage. With him as your husband, you could soar in a way your class and gender never would’ve allowed. And at the end of it all? You’re quite pretty. A new dress and a circlet for that boyish cut of hair and you’d be bewitching. He was eager to see what those loose tunics had been hiding.
You can’t refuse his offer. Suddenly, Alex is called by letter to care for an ailing relative who has no other means of support. The same relative that had supposedly taken you in. And John quite selflessly takes you in following, and from a public perspective, it all went so naturally after that. What could be more heartwarming and dreamy? A generous noble taking in a common born girl in an act of charity, and the two falling in love, enough to defy the gaps in their stations and marry. It’s the kind of thing that only happens in fairy tales.
But despite all of John’s political aspirations, he knows it must appear as if nothing is amiss. That means doing what any noble would do with a young, pretty bride. It means spoiling you with all the finery he can… and it means making sure that you’re with child within the year.
#and for those wondering#I was at the tender age of 8 when ouran highschool host club destroyed my brain#writing#cod fanfic#cod#john price x reader#captain john price#john price#medieval au
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『 sweet little thing p.1 | b. barnes x reader 』
pairing: bucky barnes x afab!reader words: it's real long okay, it even has parts summary: what happens when the guy you have a crush on happens to have a dad, who is older, hotter and rougher?
fluff ; angst ; smut
When you saw Andy he was simply... phenomenal. His eyes were big and blue, and the way their corners creased when he smiled was simply too much to bear.
You made it a point to become close to him - you swore up and down that your classmate would fall in love with you if he spent just enough time around you.
So you pretended to be dumb, and, because Andy was one of the top students in the university, it was only logical to ask him for help and form a study group.
It was all going well and dandy - you two hung out together nearly every day, studied and partied, and eventually went from colleagues, to friends, to very close friends.
Your plan was working perfectly... until one day. Until that one awful, magical day in which he invited you to study at his house.
Your whole body was trembling and the butterflies in your stomach wouldn't sit still as you drove to Andy's place, but the smile plastered on your face would let anyone know that, despite the nervousness, you were thrilled.
You took a deep breath and opened the car door, shutting it behind you before skipping over to the house's front porch and ringing the doorbell.
Silence. Nothing. Not a "I'm coming", not a "one second!", not even a single footstep. You checked your phone to make sure you were on the right address and that you had gotten the date correct before ringing the doorbell again, while anxiously biting your lip.
Suddenly, you heard heavy footsteps coming from the inside, and the white wooden door swung open.
"Who the f- oh, who are you?" The man's voice was rigid at first, but it softened and quieted as his eyes landed on your figure, in a little skirt and books tucked against your chest.
Your eyes widened in surprise. That man couldn't be anyone other than Andy's dad. His eyes were just as blue, and his voice was just the right amount of soft and rough as well. But there was something about him... Something that made your heart pound out of your chest. Maybe it was the short beard, the sweat dripping down his forehead, or the way his shirt hugged his biceps, but you were feeling something just about everywhere.
Andy was good looking guy but that... that was a gorgeous man.
"S-sorry sir, I'm Y/N. I'm Andy's friend he uh- we were supposed to study today."
"Were you now?" He grabbed the rag that was tucked away on the waist of his jeans and wiped his forehead "I'm sorry darlin' but the little shit hasn't come back yet, feel free to come in and wait for him though." The man said, stepping away from the door and giving you space to walk inside.
His tone wasn't rigid, but there was definitely an aura around him that demanded respect and that imposed authority. The nickname sent a shiver down your spine, but you smiled nevertheless.
"I wouldn't want to impose, I can come back later, Sir!" You shyly replied, as it was clear that the man was working and he had no idea he was about to receive visitors.
"Aren't you a sweet little thing, I wish all of Andy's friends were like you. It's no trouble, really. It's the least I can do for you in this situation." He said with a chuckle.
You smiled and walked into the house and right past the man, hoping he missed the blush that crept up on your face and the nervousness that made your legs shake.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Barnes!"
The man nodded in response and pointed you to the living room before disappearing somewhere in the house.
Minutes passed by and the clock on the wall ticked as you were left by yourself for who knows how long. You had plenty of time to look around, although there was not much to look at - the house was barely decorated, only a few framed pictures here and there, everything else was the strictly necessary furniture. The living room was but a couch, a reclining chair, a nice plasma TV and a coffee table with circular stains (from the lack of coasters, no doubt). Andy had once mentioned that his parents were no longer together, and that was obvious from the looks of the house - it was clearly a man-cave.
An hour had passed by when Andy's dad emerged from the back of the house once more, his forehead shining with sweat as he wiped his greasy hands on a rag.
He lifted his head and the man's eyebrows furrowed as his eyes met yours.
"Where is Andy?" He simply asked, in a monotone voice.
You swallowed thickly, almost nervously, as if you had done something wrong.
"I... I'm not sure, Sir. He hasn't answered my texts."
The male sighed and his features softened - you couldn't tell if he was annoyed that a stranger was still in his house or if he was irritated that his son had invited someone over and left them alone.
He opened his mouth to say something else but, as if on cue, Andy burst in the door.
"Hey dad there's a car in the- oh hey Y/N, what are you doing here?" The boy asked when his eyes landed on your figure sitting on the couch.
"We had agreed to study today." You said, holding up the books you had brought with yourself.
"No, we had agreed to study on Tuesday."
His dad walked over to him and smacked him on the head - it wasn't hard enough to hurt, but it was rough enough for Andy to understand he was being reprimanded.
"Which is today, dipshit. And where's your phone?"
Andy's eyes widened and he facepalmed.
"Aw man, is it!? I'm so sorry, Y/N!" Andy knelt in front of you, staring at you with those steel blue eyes "I will make it up to you, I promise."
But suddenly, those turquoise orbs that you came to love so much, did not have the same effect on you, as you had somehow found a more beautiful pair to stare into.
You had spent the week getting flashbacks of the small exchanges you had had with Andy's dad - the way his muscles flexed at every little movement, the way his hair fell over his face ever so slightly, and his piercing blue eyes, that gave such a rugged man an almost angelic look.
You felt guilty for the amount of thoughts you had about the man, especially when you were constantly hanging around Andy, but you couldn't help the effect he had on you, it was like poison slowly taking over your body.
"Why don't you come over for dinner, Y/N? I'm cooking tonight and I still owe you an apology for the other day." Andy invited, as you walked to your class.
You bit your lip - free homecooked food was not something you wanted to decline, but you wondered if stepping back into that house was wise, as more interactions with "Mr. Barnes" would bring your infatuation to a new level, you were sure.
"Come on! If you decline free food it means you were never really angry at me."
You rolled your eyes and eventually agreed, convincing yourself that it was nothing but a stupid schoolgirl crush that would eventually go away.
You were nervous throughout the rest of the day, for no reason at all. You didn't even know if Mr. Barnes would be home, you didn't even know if you were going to interact with him, but for some reason that beautiful gaze of his was burned into your mind.
Andy didn't find your silence too weird, as he just thought you were still angry at him - and he hoped that that night's dinner would bring your friendship back to normal.
After classes were done, you stopped by your place so you could shower and change clothes after a whole day of sweating. You stood in front of your closet, towel wrapped around your body as you wondered what you should wear, your eyes landed on a miniskirt. Usually you'd wear something sexy to catch the eyes of a certain boy, but this time you knew you'd be wearing it to catch someone else's attention. It felt wrong, it made you feel somewhat guilty, for some reason, and yet you still picked up the skirt and put it on.
Andy must've been busy with the cooking, because when you rang the doorbell it was Mr. Barnes who opened it for you. It hard to contain the smile (and the attraction you felt for him) as his eyes traveled down your body and landed on the little skirt you wore.
This time he wasn't as sweaty and dirty (to your slight displeasure), he wore a dark pair of jeans and a light shirt, with its sleeves rolled up until his elbow.
"Hello, Sir." You greeted politely.
The corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he stepped away from the door, granting you passage.
"Hello, darlin'. You can just call me James." He said as you entered the house.
You can just call him James. You didn't know how to feel about that, there was a certain appeal in calling him "Sir", as if you were recognizing that he was somehow superior to you, more worthy of respect and authority.
"Of course S- James." You said, nonetheless, correcting yourself immediately.
"Andy's right down there in the kitchen." James said with a smirk.
You thanked him and followed the direction in which he had pointed to, and you found Andy, and a mess of onion and potato peels around him, as well as chunky and uneven cut carrots and a poorly de-boned chicken.
As you watched the boy struggle, you felt a presence behind you - James Barnes. You looked up at him, to find him staring at his son with a mix of confusion and disgust on his face.
"Hey, buddy, the chicken is already dead." He mocked.
Andy looked over his shoulder to find the two of you staring at him, and he looked... stressed, to say the least. It was clear that he didn't know how to cook whatever he was trying to cook, that the only reason why he asked you over was to impress you, and he had failed.
His dad laughed and walked over to him, patting his shoulder.
"Go wash up kid, I can finish up."
Andy looked like he had just seen his guardian angel, he thanked his dad and glanced at you.
"I'll be right back just- I'm going to take a shower." The boy ran past you and you couldn't help but giggle at the disheveled state of the ever-composed Andy Barnes.
However, when he left, you were painfully aware that you were once more left alone with the man you had been picturing in your mind the whole week.
"Do you need help, James?" The name rolled off your tongue with such ease, it felt natural, and for some reason it aroused you, as if calling him by his name expressed some sort of closeness.
The man glanced at you, and then at the counter - you could see the conflict in his eyes.
"You're a guest, don't worry about it."
You had been invited by his son, and the last thing he wanted was to have someone invited over to do housework, but you couldn't stand back and relax while he looked so overwhelmed. So, you rolled up your sleeves and began pooling together all of the peels and unusable parts that were laying on the counter.
"It's no problem, really." You told him with a smile as you carried the stuff you had collected to the trash.
Unbeknownst to you, the male's eyes fell to your legs as you walked away, and he muttered a small "fuck" under his breath as you bent over the trash. Your skirt rode up dangerously, and he had to force his gaze away from your figure. Obviously your outfit hadn't gone unnoticed by the man...
There wasn't much of an exchange between the two of you before Andy came down the stairs running, hair still slightly damp. The man focused on finishing dinner and you set the table, to pass time and fill in the awkwardness.
"Sorry! Sorry for leaving you with him again." The boy said as he came into the room.
"I will ground you." The man retorted, playfully.
You giggled at the joke and glanced at how mesmerizing Mr. Barnes looked, even from the back.
"Sorry Sarge!" Andy said and you cocked your head to the side.
James turned around to put the food on the table, and Andy took it as an opportunity to hook his finger around the chain around his neck, bringing the dog tag that was hidden under his shirt forward - you didn't miss the way it flashed some of the male's naked chest.
"He was an army brat and then joined the army and became a Sergeant. I wanted to join too but dad didn't let me." Andy explained, as you all began taking your seats around the table.
A soldier... That would explain the brooding and the serious expression, and it would further explain the way his presence alone demanded respect and exuded authority. It somehow made him even more desirable, if that was even possible.
"What would you even do there, Andy? You couldn't chop a carrot, never mind shoot a gun." You joked.
Andy's face grew red with embarrassment and his dad left out a hearty laugh.
You couldn't stop the smile from spreading on your face, for some reason you felt proud for making the male laugh. Andy protested your joke, but you didn't listen, as your eyes were glued to the dog tag, trying to read it.
"James B. Barnes..." You said to yourself, as you thought about what the "B" stood for.
"Bucky."
You eyes snapped up and you met the male's gaze, it was piercing and there was a mixture of emotions to them, they were curious and had a glint of playfulness, like a big dog staring at the newly arrived kitten.
"S-sorry?" You asked, not gathering what he meant.
"The 'B', it stands for Buchanan, or Bucky for short."
You blushed deeply, and you could feel the heat on your face as apparently you had said his name quite loud.
The glances you exchanged throughout the dinner were brief, and both of you wondered if there was something more to them, but, due to the fact that he was you dad's friend, the two of you just dismissed it as fragments of their imagination.
The dinner had been disastrous. Well, it had gone wonderfully, which was terrible, because your head was filled with constant images of your supposed crush's father.
Your head was spinning constantly, and your (romantic) interest on Andy had been reduced to basically nothing. You couldn't stop thinking of his eyes, his smile, his gaze, his muscles, his... everything. And the thoughts only got dirtier and dirtier as the clock ticked, each hour making your mind delve deeper into your perverted fantasies.
You refused to touch yourself to image of your close friend's father, it was wrong, but one day the images in your mind seemed too real, you were so desperate you could swear you almost felt his rough hand softly exploring your inner thighs, travelling upwards and upwards. You flipped the covers off of yourself and put on a pair of shorts as you headed out for some air.
You walked with no destination, but you remembered there was a convenience store nearby, and you decided to stop by - maybe a late night snack and a late night walk would make you sleepy enough to fall right asleep once you headed back, but oh how wrong you were.
You greeted the cranky cashier as you walked in and made your way around the store, looking for something that would catch your eye, but, to your surprise, you found a different kind of snack hidden in the back.
Standing in front of the beer cases was none other than James Buchanan Barnes, with one hand on his hip as he brushed his hair back with the other hand. His jeans were riding terribly low, and when he lifted his arm to fix the rebel strands of hair, he revealed the waistband of his underwear, like the ribbon of a gift you desperately wanted to unwrap.
He lived nearby, and you wondered if you had crossed paths before and you just hadn't noticed him, or if it was the universe toying with you.
You realized you had been standing there, staring like a creep, and he had probably noticed someone was in the same aisle, so you decided turned on your heels and walked towards the cookie aisle.
You had spend a couple minutes biting your lip and admiring all of the different flavours, before deciding on the Oreos at the very top of the high shelf.
Just as you struggled, standing on your tippy toes and reaching for the item, someone came behind you and grabbed a pack. Their hand was on your waist, and their chest directly behind you. You turned around, coming face to face with none other than Bucky, the man you were trying to hard to avoid. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you wanted nothing more than to grab the hand that had grabbed your waist and place it lower on your body.
You breathed in deeply, inhaling his manly musk, a faint smell of fresh laundry and deodorant, nothing too strong like most guys in your college whom you could smell a mile away.
"Hey darlin', what're you doing out here so late?" He asked as he took a step back and handed you your snack.
"Hi! I couldn't sleep, it's uh... it's too hot." It wasn't entirely false, but he didn't need to know where that heat resided, or who was the cause for it.
Your fingers brushed against his as you took the Oreos from him, and adrenaline shot through your body. Every single one of his touches left a fire in your body, one that he started and only he could put out.
"Yeah? Me either." There was a certain sadness in his tone, but he quickly changed the subject. "Are you here all by yourself?"
"Uh, yeah, I am."
Bucky's eyebrows furrowed together and he seemed to be deep in thought for a second. He had it in his nature to take care of everyone around him, and the situation simply didn't seem right in his mind.
"Let me drive you home, it's getting real late and it's dark out there."
You desperately wanted to take the offer, but you couldn't - not only did you not want to be a bother, you also didn't want your forget-about-Bucky walk to turn into a more-Bucky-content walk.
"Thank you, Mr. B- James, it's okay, really."
"Are you sure?" Bucky asked, feeling uneasy.
He had no authority over you, but it didn't feel correct to let a young woman walk alone in the middle of the night.
"Yeah, no worries James, thank you for the offer."
"Have yourself a good night then, darlin'." He said, with a small smile.
"You too, sir!"
You mentally cursed yourself for calling him "sir" again as you turned around and made your way to the cashier - old habits die hard.
As you left the store, you glanced back to steal another look at Bucky's ethereal appearance, and you wondered if you should have just given in and let him take you home.
"Hey there, wanna do something fun, princess?" A voice snapped you out of your fantasies, and, when you realized, three guys had surrounded you.
They weren't huge or muscled by any means, but they were tripled in number, so you felt a little uneasy in their presence.
"Come on baby, why don't we take you home, huh?" The tallest one of the trio asked, stepping forward.
"I'm- I'm good, thanks."
"Don't look so scared, we don't bite." He got closer to you, so that he could whisper "Not unless you want us to."
As you stood there, frozen in fear, the crew shared a collective laugh. The laughing stopped rather quickly, and their faces morphed from entertained and amused, to serious ones. You didn't understand what was happening, but as you took one step back, you bumped into someone's chest. You looked up to find none other than Bucky. His eyes were devoid of that twinkle and glisten that you fantasized about, they were dark and clouded by rage.
He said nothing before taking your arm and pulling you to stand behind him.
"I wanna do something fun. I think I know just how much fun the four of us can have." The male said, walking towards them until he was face to face with the guy that had whispered in your ear.
There were three guys versus just one Bucky, but their three scrawny figures stood no chance against a man like James Barnes.
"Ay, let's- let's bounce y'all." One of them said, in the back, pulling his friends back by the forearm.
"Yeah, I think it'd be best if you three 'bounced'." Bucky mocked, never letting go of the eye contact.
Once they were out of sight, the man turned around to face you, placing his hands on your arms.
"Are you okay? Darlin'?" One of his hands slid up your body as he grabbed your chin and tipped it upwards, so his worried eyes could look into your shocked, fearful ones.
"F-fuck..." You finally said, brushing your hair back in frustration.
You could finally breathe, and you felt like Bucky had just rescued you from the claws of a wolf.
"Thank you s- James. Thank you so much." You muttered, and Bucky breathed out in relief. "I shouldn't have-"
"Hey, none of that. You were living your life and what happened isn't your fault. Let's get you home, okay?" The man said, cutting you off and preventing you from potentially blaming what happened on any of your actions, which made you smile shyly and nod along to his question.
You followed Bucky to his truck. He offered you his hand so you could get on the seat as it was quite high, and his eyes shamelessly trailed down your body once more. The man had to turn his head to the side until you had climbed onto the seat.
Aside from giving him directions to your place, the trip was rather quiet.
"Are you okay?" Bucky asked, as he took one of your hands and placed his free hand on your hip while helping you out of his truck once you had arrived to your house.
"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks for... that, back there."
"No need to worry darlin'. You uh- text me, or call me, if you're ever in trouble. Andy told me your parents live away from the university, so hit me up if you ever need anything."
Andy had told him... You wondered if Bucky asked or if the son had simply volunteered that information. Nonetheless you took the card he extended you - it was a business card with Bucky's Garage written on it, and his phone number under it.
You blushed intensely and your mind became foggy for a second, as you acknowledged that the man had just handed you his number.
"Thank you. I will, James."
After that encounter, you didn't see Bucky for over a week. The frequency with which he visited your mind, however, increased by the hour. It seemed like the saying "out of sight, out of mind" had no real meaning when it came to dirty thoughts involving James Barnes.
Nine days after the fact, Andy asked you and a couple other people over to watch basketball. It was a small group of four boys, including Andy, and two girls, you and a really sweet girl whom you had grown closer to, since you hung out together often because of the guys.
You knew Bucky would be there, which made choosing an outfit much more difficult. Should you dress normally!? Should you try to tease him further? Would you want to continue feeding this silly fantasy of yours?
Your eyes skimmed the closet, eventually landing on a cheerleading outfit - it was a small skirt and a long sleeved crop top, both with a colour scheme that matched your town's basketball team's. You had bought it for halloween once, for an undead cheerleader look, and you were seriously considering it.
Your mind raced with several contradicting thoughts, but you eventually picked it up and tried it on.
"Should I? Maybe it's too much... I mean, they will be wearing team jerseys, so it wouldn't be too farfetched to wear this. Or would it?" You were talking to yourself like a crazy person as you looked at your reflection in the mirror.
Eventually, you decided to text the other girl who was invited, in hopes of getting some honest feedback, before asking what she was thinking of taking as an outfit. You snapped two photos, one from the front, and one from your back, so she could properly see the length (or lack thereof) of your skirt.
You: is this too slutty to take to his house or does it look good? (2 attachments)
You put your phone down but it vibrated again as soon as it touched the mattress.
"I don't think the text was for me, darlin', but for the record, it looks good."
#bucky barnes#bucky smut#bucky fluff#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fluff#bucky x reader#bukcy barnes x reader#marvel smut#bucky barnes x reader#marvel#winter soldier#bucky#bucky fanfic#bucky reader insert
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One thing I love about Jean Valjean’s pre-prison backstory chapter is how human/flawed he is: he’s not an all-loving saint, but a regular guy taking on the duty of caring for his family even when when he has a lot of resentment about the burden that’s been placed on him. He’s not special. He’s an average guy and average criminal. His name literally means “voila gens”/“here is the man;” he’s an ordinary John Doe.
This is something I’ve noticed adaptations tend to change: they often want Jean Valjean to be unique, better than the other criminals in a way that makes him an Exception, a special person who doesn’t deserve to be lumped in with other criminals, and they want his arrest to be the system making a mistake rather than the system working as designed. But the novel is very clear that there is nothing special about Jean Valjean’s story, that he is not exceptional, and that he is a representative of a very common story and a very average kind of person.
I go back and forth on the description of young Jean Valjean sometimes, because on one hand, I do think Hugo has some classist ideas about peasants— but on the other hand, I really do like the characterization of Jean Valjean caring for his family while also being a regular person who feels overburdened by them, as anyone would. He protects his sister’s children by spending money they can’t afford on milk they’ve stolen, but he does it grumblingly. He spends all of his time working the same job that killed his father in order to support his family; but the narration points out he has no time to do normal young person things like falling in love, and he seems to exist without really believing he has any kind of future. He’s not this Ideal of Fatherhood—- he’s just a regular ordinary guy doing what he can to support his family even when he resents the weight that’s placed on him.
And despite all of his suffering under that weight, he still takes it on— and he still breaks down sobbing over his family when he’s parted from them:
While the bolt of his iron collar was being riveted behind his head with heavy blows from the hammer, he wept, his tears stifled him, they impeded his speech; he only managed to say from time to time, “I was a tree-pruner at Faverolles.” Then still sobbing, he raised his right hand and lowered it gradually seven times, as though he were touching in succession seven heads of unequal heights, and from this gesture it was divined that the thing which he had done, whatever it was, he had done for the sake of clothing and nourishing seven little children.
And his first escape attempt also happens shortly after he’s told the only news he ever hears of his family.
So again, I think this is also something I think a lot of adaptations miss: Pre-Prison Valjean is not a saintly hero who’s “mistaken” for an average criminal. He’s a very common type of person with a very common type of tragedy:
It is always the same story. These poor living beings, these creatures of God, henceforth without support, without guide, without refuge, wandered away at random,—who even knows?—each in his own direction perhaps, and little by little buried themselves in that cold mist which engulfs solitary destinies; gloomy shades, into which disappear in succession so many unlucky heads, in the sombre march of the human race.
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Rainfall and Realizations PT.2
𓋜 Pairing: Minho (XO, Kitty) x fem! Reader
𓋜 Series: The Roommate Exchange
𓋜 Summary: A rainy afternoon in Kitty’s and your dorm brings you closer to her charming but flustered friend, Minho. Between teasing remarks, upcoming secrets and an unexpected walk, sparks begin to fly as Minho starts to see you in a new light.
𓋜 Notes:
Hello again!,
I just want to say, I'm so surprised that the first little drabble has reached about 100 people at this point, thank you to everyone reading and leaving a like <3
While I didn't think I'd be continuing the first part, I am very very happy to do so. I have a couple Ideas, so lets see how long this little slowburn is gonna take, but do feel free to give feedback, ideas or corrections :)
Thank you again, and I hope you have fun with this next part, and the newest little secret (Y/N) possibly has
Taglist!! <3: @finnbbl, @literallysza(tysm, ily)
The days following Minho’s first meeting with (Y/N) were…confusing. For someone who prided himself on being the most self-assured person at KISS, Minho now found himself unsettled, distracted, and unusually tongue-tied.
He hated how much he found himself looking for excuses to hang out in Kitty’s dorm, pretending to help with her chaotic plans or offering to grab coffee with her, only to find himself scanning the room for (Y/N).
And then there was (Y/N) herself. If she noticed Minho’s newfound awkwardness, she didn’t let on. She greeted him the same way every time—calm, composed, and polite but never overly enthusiastic. It drove him crazy.
One rainy afternoon, Minho found himself at Kitty’s dorm again. It had become a ritual of sorts—Kitty would ramble on about her latest love triangle (or square, depending on the day), and Minho would half-listen, his attention split between her words and the hope that (Y/N) would walk in.
“…and then she had the nerve to ask if I wanted to go shopping with her,” Kitty was saying, pacing the small living room.
Minho leaned back on the couch, pretending to listen. His attention kept drifting to the door.
“And you’re not even listening,” Kitty said, snapping her fingers in front of his face.
“What? No, I am,” Minho said quickly. “Shopping with Yuri. Terrible idea. Definitely don’t do it.”
Kitty sighed, flopping onto the armchair across from him. “You’re the worst, you know that?”
Before Minho could respond, the door creaked open. (Y/N) stepped inside, balancing a tray of fresh cookies. She glanced at them, her lips curving into a small smile.
“Kitty, I made a little something for you,” she said, setting the tray on the counter. Her gaze flickered to Minho briefly. “Oh. Hi, Minho.”
Minho straightened up instinctively. “Hey.”
Kitty raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of them. “Cookies? You’ve been spoiling me lately, (Y/N).”
“It’s nothing,” (Y/N) said, putting a couple of them on a platter for Kitty and sliding it across the counter. “I wanted to take some time to bake something again anyway.”
Minho hesitated, then cleared his throat. “Any left over for me?”
(Y/N) glanced at him, her expression unreadable, before nodding. She prepared another plate and handed it to him. Their fingers brushed briefly as he took it, and Minho felt his stomach flip.
“Thanks,” he muttered, taking a bite to hide his reaction.
As the rain pattered against the windows, the three of them settled into a strangely comfortable rhythm. Kitty alternated between brainstorming ideas and scrolling through her phone, while Minho and (Y/N) exchanged occasional remarks about the weather and school.
Minho found himself watching (Y/N) more than he intended. She sat cross-legged on the floor, her plate balanced precariously on the edge of the table. Her hair was slightly frizzy from the humidity, and she wore an oversized sweater that looked impossibly soft.
“So,” (Y/N) said suddenly, looking at Minho. “What’s your role in Kitty’s master plan today?”
Minho blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, I’m the…idea guy?”
“Really?” (Y/N) said, raising an eyebrow. “Because it seems like Kitty’s doing all the talking.”
Kitty snorted. “Exactly. He’s useless.”
“Hey,” Minho protested, feigning offense. “I’m providing moral support.”
“Moral support doesn’t count if you’re just sitting there looking pretty,” (Y/N) said, her tone light but teasing.
Minho’s cheeks flushed at the unexpected compliment—or was it an insult? He couldn’t tell.
“Looking pretty is a full-time job,” he shot back, recovering quickly.
(Y/N) smiled faintly, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Must be exhausting.”
Soon after, (Y/N) excused herself to work on her writing, leaving Minho and Kitty alone again.
“You’re staring,” Kitty said, not looking up from her phone.
“What?” Minho said, snapping out of his thoughts.
“At (Y/N),” Kitty clarified, smirking. “You’ve been staring at her all afternoon.”
“I have not,” Minho said, a little too quickly.
“Right,” Kitty said, drawing out the word. “You’re so obvious, it’s painful.”
Minho groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not…staring. I just think she’s—”
“Gorgeous?” Kitty supplied.
Minho sighed. “Fine. Yes. But it’s not like that.”
“Sure it isn’t,” Kitty said, her smirk widening.
The tea that was made to go along with the cookies was long gone, the rain still drumming softly against the windows, and Minho couldn’t stop replaying the interaction in his head. Her words—“Must be exhausting”—had been light, teasing, but there was something about the way (Y/N) looked at him when she said it. Not dismissive, not disinterested. Amused, maybe even intrigued. Or was he imagining that?
“Minho,” Kitty’s voice cut through his thoughts, dragging him back to reality.
“Huh?”
Kitty rolled her eyes dramatically. “You’re really bad at hiding it.”
“Hiding what?” he said, attempting a casual shrug that probably looked as awkward as it felt.
“You, staring at her like she’s some mysterious treasure map you’re trying to figure out,” Kitty said, her smirk firmly in place.
“I don’t stare,” Minho said defensively. “I glance. Occasionally, and don't mention it again, we just talked about that 20 minutes ago!”
Kitty let out a laugh, shaking her head. “You’re in trouble, I'm just trying to get that into your head”
“I’m not,” Minho insisted, though the heat rising in his cheeks told a different story. “I just think she’s…interesting.”
“Oh, she is,” Kitty agreed. “But don’t think you’re going to win her over by just sitting here and looking pretty.”
“I don’t—” Minho started, but Kitty cut him off.
“Please. I know you. You think a few charming smiles and a well-timed compliment are all it takes.”
Minho scowled, but he couldn’t exactly argue. That had worked for him in the past. “And what, oh wise Kitty, do you suggest I do?”
Kitty tilted her head, considering. “Maybe try talking to her. Actually talking. Ask her about her life, her interests—be genuine for once.”
Minho opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the door to (Y/N)’s room creaked open. She stepped out, clutching her laptop and a notebook, her hair pulled into a clip-up hairstyle.
“I’m heading to the library,” (Y/N) said, glancing between them.
“In this weather?” Kitty asked, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s quieter when it’s raining,” (Y/N) said with a small shrug.
"Besides, I want to meet up with a guy that needs tutoring, he's hopeless"
"Just some guy, huh?" Minho pauses for a second, watching her every move.
"A random guy that you're bringing some of your cookies?"
(Y/N turns around, facing him with a judging look: "If you really think about it, you're also 'Just a Guy' at the moment"
Minho's brows furrow, and you could almost hear Kitty's low wince in reaction to her statement
“I’ll walk with you,” Minho said, standing before he even realized what he was doing.
(Y/N) blinked, clearly surprised. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” Minho said, his tone a little too eager. He quickly added, “I mean, I’ve been cooped up here for hours. I could use some air.”
Kitty barely stifled a laugh, but (Y/N) simply nodded. “Alright, if you’re sure.”
Minho grabbed his jacket, ignoring Kitty’s smug expression as he followed (Y/N) out the door.
The rain had softened into a light drizzle by the time they stepped outside. (Y/N) pulled her hood up, clutching her laptop bag close as they walked.
“So,” Minho began, struggling to find a topic. “The library, huh? Big plans?”
“I just need some quiet to work,” (Y/N) said, glancing at him briefly.
“On what?” he asked, genuinely curious.
She hesitated for a moment before answering. “I write sometimes. Nothing major.”
“Like essays?” Minho guessed.
“Not exactly,” she said, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “More like…thoughts. Stories. Poetry, sometimes.”
Minho raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. “Wow. I didn’t know that.”
“Well, now you do,” (Y/N) said lightly.
They walked in silence for a moment, the rain-soaked campus unusually quiet around them. Minho found himself stealing glances at her, trying to piece together the puzzle of who she was.
“What about you?” (Y/N) asked suddenly, catching him off guard. “What do you do when you’re not hanging out with Kitty or obsessing over your wardrobe?”
“I don’t obsess over clothes, or only hang out with Kitty” Minho said defensively.
(Y/N) gave him a knowing look: "You cant deny the fashion thing, and you do hang out with Kitty a lot at the moment, you seem to be attached at the hip"
“Okay, maybe a little, but not the Kitty thing! She's nice don't get me wrong, but..” he admitted, stopping his rant when he saw (Y/N)'s expression
“But I do other things. Like…uh…” He faltered, realizing he didn’t have a good answer. “I’m pretty into music,” he said finally. “I play piano.”
(Y/N)’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed that.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know,” she said, her tone teasing. “You don’t exactly give off ‘classical music prodigy’ vibes.”
“First of all, I’m not a prodigy,” Minho said. “And second, I’m full of surprises.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” (Y/N) said, her faint smile returning.
They reached the library steps, and (Y/N) paused, turning to face him.
“Thanks for walking with me,” she said.
“Anytime,” Minho said, and for once, he meant it.
(Y/N) hesitated, like she wanted to say something else, but instead, deciding for an alternative.
"Minho?"
"Yes?"
"If you ever get lonely when Kitty's out causing chaos, feel free to stop by anyway, alright?"
Minho and her shared a smile before she nodded and disappeared through the library doors.
Minho stood there for a moment, watching the door close behind her. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, replaying their conversation in his head. It wasn’t much, but it felt like progress.
By the time he got back to the dorm, Kitty was waiting for him, sprawled out on the couch with a knowing grin.
“Well?” she asked.
“Well, what?”
Kitty rolled her eyes. “How’d it go? Did you manage to form a complete sentence?”
“Very funny,” Minho said, kicking off his shoes. “We talked.”
“And?”
“And…she’s interesting,” Minho admitted, flopping onto the couch.
She gave him an expecting look, leaning forward towards him
He have her a judgy up-and-down look before asking: "What?"
Kitty groaned and shook her head.
"And? There was something else I know it"
Minho's lips twitched into something resembling a smile before gaining back his facial control
"Well...", he hesitated for a second, "She did indirectly invite me to hang out?"
Kitty’s grin widened. “You’re so doomed.”
That night, as Minho sat at his desk, he found himself scrolling through his phone, staring at the submission screen for the anonymous blog everyone at KISS loved. He didn’t know why he was considering it, but something about (Y/N)’s quiet confidence had gotten under his skin.
Without overthinking, he typed out a message:
“How do you get to know someone who’s completely different from anyone you’ve ever met? Someone who makes you feel like you’re not as put together as you think you are?”
He hesitated before hitting send, then shook his head and closed the app. It wasn’t like she would ever see it.
Or so he thought.
#xo kitty dae#xo kitty minho#xo kitty season 2#xo kitty minho x reader#xo kitty#xo kitty yuri#xo kitty q#x reader#x fem!reader#x female reader
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top 10 long-term psychiatric lockdown facility patients:
#1. "DJ B-Rad": severely hyperactive autistic 11 year old. Looked and acted like some sort of elf. Would only respond to DJ B-Rad. Spoke and conversed pretty much exclusively in outbursts of classic youtube poop quotes. The other kids thought he was schizophrenic but I understood him and appreciated the humor he brought to what was often a quite dour situation. The place held I think 30 kids at a time– 10 per wing, divided by the risk-level associated with their interactions/how much care they needed. I was in the "low risk" section... in a room beside DJ B-Rad. He would frequently beatbox while partaking in the enjoyment of punching or hitting himself. Not in a depressive or self-haming way, nor in a "the voices made me do it" way. He just seemed to genuinely enjoy it. #1 because I have never met someone with such jouissance before or since. (and also because I wanted to start this off on a high note.)
#2. really charismatic stylish fat girl, maybe 15 or 16, who told everyone she was autistic. all professionals dissuaded her from mentioning it since that didn't seem to be her problem and really she didn't seem to have any beyond claiming to be autistic for no appparent reason. It became clear very quickly that she was self diagnosed and had her autism refuted by every professional she had come across. Regardless– she didn't seem to know why she was there either. She genuinely came across as normal, confident, well-adjusted, healthy family life, so why was she there? I had a bit of a crush on her and she had lesbian moms so i kept my fingers crossed that she would self diagnose herself as some flavor of kweer. I didn't think too hard about it back then because in all honesty I hadnt the faintest idea of what autistic even meant and no one seemed able to give me a straight answer. In hindsight... my conspiracy theory is that her moms initially took her to a psychologist because she kept telling people she was super autistic and back then that sort of claim carried massive weight (non zero chance tumblr played a part in her autism proclamation, but she was way ahead of the curve seeing as this was like... early 2012. in canada. I wasnt really online back then so idk when this sort of thing started to pick up steam but judging by how 2013 unfolded im gonna guess that it was right about then...) so maybe they thought she was like having some sort of very pressing identity issues or psychosis maybe muchausen and decided to ship her off without delay... A genuinely normal girl adamant on having a disability that was considered (especially back then. especially after DJ B-Rad.) debilitating must have seemed so insane..... until suddenly it wasn't lol (even normies I know nowadays say things like "everyone is a little autistic") . She arrived a few weeks before my graduation and at that point almost all of the people I spent my time with were gone and the place was full of randos who I otherwise didn't gaf about which meant I was able to spend more time getting to get to know her, trying to understand why she was there and what autism meant. Unfortunately, her timing could not have been worse. No one had time to entertain her autism claims. She had arrived almost immediately after the grand spergfest that was DJ B-Rad's graduation dinner. the bar was high. If you were gonna be calling yourself autistic, you were gonna have to prove it. She didn't seem at all bothered, nor deterred, nor invalidated by the professionals refusing to entertain the idea of her being even slightly on the spectrum... she was certain they were just ableist. During group therapy, when trying to get to the bottom of things, the "why" of her stay here, what issues she may have been dealing with, anything really... There didn't seem to be an answer. She most often took on a supportive role for others that came across as slightly tone deaf because she was trying to tell trauma patients to just keep their chin up and stay positive... which on paper could be possibly bad faith interpreted as "socially autistic" but no it more so came across as out of touch, as one of the rare patients who didnt have a background involving trauma, poverty, neglect, mental illness, etc. But to be honest, most people seemed to appreciate just having a truly unbothered, kind, and optimistic peer around– her intentions were, at the very least, pure. And for someone with low-level munchhausen, it didn't seem as though she was doing it for attention, nor did she fake any symptoms, or do anything really beyond say "i am autistic" and continue on with her day which I'm sure was extra confusing for the professionals dealing with her to wrap their heads around at the time.
#3. The Escape Artist: 14, caring and emotionally intelligent when she let her guard down, but typically quite guarded. Screwed up from her life on the rez. Always kept it real– I had some of my best discussions about life in general with her. By the time I got there, she had taken on a sort of mythical status as the unapproachable girl who had almost escaped the facility, and as a result had her stay extended "indefinitely". The minimum (and typical) stay was 4 months... by the time I arrived, she had been there for over 6 months, and she was still there when I "graduated" 4 months later. The story was that not long into her stay, she was being led back inside with the rest of the herd following a highly-supervised game of soccer in the fenced-off field attached to the back of the facility. To get outside at any time, you have to go through two (or 3) sets of locked doors. Beyond that... I mean, this place is in the middle of nowhere. This isn't some city psych ward shit. But security wasn't as tight as the staff let on. She had been plotting and waiting for a chance to escape for weeks– it was almost all she thought about. As the crowd was ushered along, distractions and misbehaving children were plentiful. While the staff were suddenly very wrapped up in dealing with whatever pressing issue had begun occurring, she realized that the door behind them had not closed properly. She somehow slipped out unseen, and managed to get a 10 minute head start before they realized she had vanished. She had run out the back, climbed the fence, hurt herself in doing so, but booked it down the highway regardless. She was in the middle of attempting to board a bus at one of its very few stops between this nowhere-place and the nearby city, when suddenly she was tackled down by staff who had been frantically driving around looking for her. Every kid there joked about plotting their escape– so of course she was a legend for having gotten that far. However, her response was always to roll her eyes at anyone who even joked about it: "Dont be stupid. Just do your 4 months. It passes like nothing." While she tended to be withdrawn from other patients, she had close relationships with all the staff there- including the ones who caught her- and often admitted that she wasn't sure anymore what she would do if they told her that it was her turn to graduate. Her entire support system was there. She didn't want to leave. At some point the program director decided she was making good progress and tried to push her on the path of the family reintigration stage. First time she went out for a brief day-pass type visit with her family, she stabbed herself in the stomach. Spent some time in an actual hospital. Upon her return, she played it cool and acted like it was no big deal, even tried to warp it into a badass thing while she showed us her stitches. But we all knew it was fucked up and that the next group therapy everyone was gonna have to sit back and give her the front and center even though she wanted to brush it off. She otherwise did seem happy to be back, even as she was placed back on "indefinitely stay" status. She was one of few I kept in touch with... which became very difficult very fast as she proceeded to dissappear for months and then years at a time, with the only indications of what's going on being people posting to her fb page asking if she's out of jail yet.
#4. Future Millenial Cringe Tiktok Star: 17, Baddie of the low-risk wing. She always had the most useful insight to offer during group-therapy (split by sex– sorry4tangent but of course as a fresh ftm I asked to get put into the "boys" group– was talked out of it by a staff member who assured me that it was an absolute shitshow in there and that yeah I could go down that road and maybe succeed but I would 100% regret it. I talked to some of the guys who told me it was just 2 hours of total retardation and anger outbursts often leading to physical fights and restraint-room utilization, all to the soundtrack of DJ B-Rad yelling "Pizza Time!" "PINGAS" "You Must Die" "Sos" etc. lol)... I always admired her maturity, level-headedness, and ability to tell off the dipshit dudes there in such a way that the staff had her back, and I often asked her how tf to handle this shit while maintaining my sanity. She was certain that you don't, but that's alright– comes with the territory– and if your sanity is reliant on being kept in here then you're not going to know how to cope on the ouside– she frequently said that hating it there and wanting to leave was a good thing (as you could imagine, her and Escapee had a strained relationship, and while Escapee would directly bring these things up with her, she saw the topic as dead on arrival since she was there solely for herself and knew it, and kept form boundaries between herself and other patients, which isnt to say she didnt engage with others but I could tell she was... I guess just way more self aware than the rest of us, likely due to her being the oldest one there), but sometimes people challenged this idea by positing that she was just saying that to justify her negativity, since it "wasn't that bad" there. She assured them that it wasn't normal to be locked up in a psychiatric facility, and that not treating it like a vacation wasn't a failure on her part– she was there putting in hard work to sort her shit out, and thought that it was a waste to just sit around waiting for it to be over. Oh also staff low-key knew she had snuck a phone onto the wing but didn't care really, because she was a model patient (phone was snuck in during her "family reintigration" period nearing the end of her stay, where the program gives patient families the opportunity to visit and go out for the day– and more rarely but sometimes even overnight, depending on the patient. All of this was pretty rare tho because kids often came from idgaf-families)... not much else to say except she was dope and it's weird seeing her getting dunked on online for calling herself clumsy in a tiktok. She once ran for some political position while also being open about the fact that she was a stripper. She almost got voted in too (small town politics moment)I honestly wish she had because she has always seemed very intelligent and driven...
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01 | A stranger is stargazing
Word count: 3.1k
A/N: I just got back from a trip and wanted to upload this before studying for my algebra finals next month. This was going to be way longer but then I saw the word count and chopped it off. I have zero imagination. Used chatgpt to translate some Spanish phrases because in English they use similar terms but different meanings. Also, my birthday falls on carnivals so it's going to be a very nice last week of vacations😁
The knock on the door pulled you from your daze, snapping your attention away from the stains on the ceiling.
Outside the only window in the apartment, barred as all must be, the sky hung a deep, polluted red, with clouds stretching far into the distance. Blue-ish if you squint your eyes. You, as one far too used to the sights, needed not to look at no clock's way to know this to be an unholy hour to bother someone. The thing was broken anyway and the lack of light filtering through was telltale enough.
It was clear, however, that someone disagreed with the concept of appropriate visiting hours. Despite your irritation, you silently hoped it wasn’t who you thought of first knocking at the door—because reliving another nightmare firsthand was the last thing you could handle after an already exhausting day. The familiar fear of being alone at night when an unexpected knock shattered the silence wasn’t something you’d grown up with instinctively, as others might. No, this was a fear learned the hard way, carved into you by mistakes you committed.
Alarm bells rang deafening while you stare frozen. You found it almost cruel when everything stayed as still as you at the faintest reminder of the last time you heard knocking. Like a punishment to yourself the shelves and mess had been kept neat, framing a stop in time on your doorstep. Back then, one of the other residents had barged in, leaving you shaken—hunted by the tickling feeling of his breath on your neck when you hadn’t turned around soon enough.
You forced yourself to push the thought away, though it lingered. A ghostly feeling clung to you, far longer than you were willing to admit to yourself, when another knock shattered your fragile composure. The sound was louder this time, sharper, snapping you back into the present. Startled, you leapt to your feet, knocking over the ashtray on the armrest with your rushed and unsteady movements. An horribly loud clatter echoed against the walls for seconds too long after falling to the floor, scattering ash and ceramic across the oppressive silence. The noise startled a hiss out of you, as though the sudden disruption physically hurt.
Out of the corner of your eye, an aluminum baseball bat tucked neatly among the umbrellas by the door. It waited in its place—only silent and steady reassurance for your burning hands.
Had the thought not been so disturbingly visceral, you would have entertained the idea of describing what you felt as a hand twisting your guts as you marched toward the door. But the imagery was too grotesque to entertain, so you buried it and kept moving.
Two locks clicked open unnaturally loud. The third lock, a flimsy chain, dangled just in front of your forehead. Not much of a safeguard, but it gave you the illusion of control even knowing the thin wood wouldn’t hold if it came to a struggle.
But what you braced for never came.
On the other side of the door, the menacing face you dreaded wasn’t there. No menacing glare from fish-like, ogling eyes.
Instead, a boy. Smaller than you.
Even more fragile-looking.
It was almost embarrassing how much taller you had expected the visitor to be. Instead, you found yourself slowly—almost comically—looking down at a face twisted in a grimace, like the boy had just sucked on a lemon.
If there was anything that could have thrown you off more in this moment, you couldn’t think of it. Then came like being hit by a train the realization of your own disheveled appearance: some pale, sickly, and worn thin girl. For looking less like a witch had others been burned. Still, you forced a smile—awkward and out of place in your face. Apparently, not beating those imaginary witch-allegations in your head, smiling wasn’t the right move in a dimly lit hallway in the dead of night.
Wonder why the boy’s expression shifted almost instantly from startled surprise to wide-eyed panic as your gazes met. Both pairs of blue eyes locked onto each other, mirrors to one another.
He was drenched, water dripping from a hoodie too big for him, which clung awkwardly to his small frame. The soaked fabric looked heavy for his noddle arms. A busted lip stood out starkly for being the kind of injury that screamed ‘street-kid’ in this side of the country. Easy—normal, even—to assume a fight was the cause. Maybe at home. Maybe over food with other kids.
Wait. It was raining outside?
“I... I’m your brother,” he stammered, words tumbling out in a rush. His face crumpled almost immediately, tears welling up as if he wanted to cry. You guessed from cringing so hard.
His words, anxious and unsteady, made it hard to process what he’d said, let alone empathize. This you blinked dumb-ly. Once. Twice. Then squinted, trying to focus your tired eyes on him. Because it couldn’t be.
Your brother was hardly a toddler.
It hadn’t been that long... just a couple of years. Maybe.
It wasn’t immediate—far from the clarity you might have preferred—but recognition did dawned the longer you looked. His mop of wet messy curls struggled under its own weight, stubbornly sticking out in awkward directions, much like yours often did after a shower. And those eyes.
Willis had definitely had a thing or two for light eyes in a woman.
This time the realization felt like a sharper pain; a slap. Older now—maybe nine or ten—your brother was standing in front of you, the spitting image of his father like you were of your mother. That thought anchored you, rooted you in place as the silence grew, filled only by static.
With it, the questions began to tumble through your mind like dominoes:
How the hell did he get here?
Obviously, he walked, right? But in the rain?
All the way here from Crime Alley, in the dark?
You stared at him for far too long. So much you could've started to feel uncomfortable too. It was socially inappropriate even. But so it was disturbing people at this hour, so you bet you kept staring. Thoughts clashed and raced, refusing to settle.
“Yeah, kid, I don’t know about that—” The words came out hesitant, weak. Perhaps speaking them might dissolve the truth in front of you. But the longer you denied it, the clearer it became.
Of course, this was your brother.
It just had to be, because why the hell not?
Your baby brother.
He had to be about ten now. You hoped he was still nine, but his birthday had long passed if you had it right.
How in the hell did he find me?
Is his lip okay? Clearly not—but how had it gotten busted?
Did he get into a fight?
Where are mom and dad?
The thought of him walking alone out there, so small and vulnerable, chilled you to the bone. The idea of walking the streets alone terrified you being his senior. Out there, death would almost feel merciful compared to what could happen.
At least the monster living down the hall was a known evil. The streets, though? They hid horrors far worse.
People often said you could sense being watched, when they weren’t alone in a
room and danger loomed nearby. Whatever that underdeveloped sixth sense was, it stirred in you, pulling your gaze away from Maybe-Jason—who, judging by his oblivious expression, has proudly evolved past any shred of survival instinct—and toward the hallway.
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
The very last, or first, of the apartment doors down the hall stood slightly ajar, its shadowed outline warped in the dim, flickering light. Large portions of the space cloaked in suffocating darkness by burned-out bulbs, but even through the haze of your blurry vision and growing dread, you could see him.
There he was. Standing just within the frame of the door, his silhouette barely illuminated. He didn’t need much light to convey what he was—a predator, coiled and waiting. The sight almost froze you in place with chills one after the other. It was like watching carnage step into the light dressed in colours to deceive.
You yanked on the door handle without thought, The lock chain vibrating sharply. The frame rattled under your grip as your restless hands itched to do something—anything. Every instinct screamed at you to grab Jason, drag him inside, and slam the door. Brother or not, scammer or not, it didn’t matter. All you wanted was to get him out of sight. Out of that sight.
From the neighbors.
From the world.
From the danger now standing on your threshold.
Of course, although you had never meant to shut the door in his face, it wasn’t hard to see why Jason probably thought you were doing just that. Looking up from frantically searching his pockets for whatever reason, only to look up and see you disappear behind the chipped wood and flaking varnish must've been disheartening. Desperation etched on his young face perfectly mirrored the ache pounding in your chest—a feeling only a boy his age could wear so openly, and one only you could understand. You knew what could happen to him, to both of you, and the weight of that knowledge crushed you. His desperation laid elsewhere, as he was yet to become aware of the danger. But the feeling was mutual. Fear smells salty.
His small fist struck the door again and again. He called for nobody, babbling something about proving his claim instead. Maybe he’d forgotten your name in the haze of his nerves, or time had scrambled the syllables and their order.
It has been a while.
His pounding made you flinch, and in your fumbling to undo the chain, your ragged nails scraped against the surface. The accidental movement sent a sharp pain stabbing under your nails, but no time for whatever that was. Not as the metallic screech of rusted hinges sliced through the air.
The sound sent your heart into overdrive.
Before let-this-be-Jason could strike the door again you grabbed his arm and yanked him inside, shoving him behind you. Behind safety. That's where your brother belonged.
Then, before your dizzy, unfocused self could register how close it had been, you slammed the door shut.
══════════════ • ✧ • ══════════════
Even before stepping out of the house, Jason knew to be digging himself into a hole. He accepted the fact for what it was; his desperation guiding him down a path of poor decisions. He just hadn’t realized a shovel was in his hands until the hole’s depth exceeded his height.
Grabbed, tossed, pulled. Weren't the walls of his vertical tomb collapsing in slow, suffocating ruin, lovely? Beautiful, even.
He would have liked to think the inside of what he hoped was his sister’s apartment might be better than the place he’d come from.
It wasn’t.
It smelled of cigarette smoke, and shadows pooled in every corner. The darkness clinging to the space, thick and uninviting, might have made Jason feel at home—dragged around and overwhelmed—if the situation hadn’t spiraled out of his control so quickly.
Sure, they were family, and blood was supposed to be thicker than water, but none of that mattered if she didn’t even know he was her brother. The memories he’d clung to, distant and blurry, painted his sister as gentle and caring.
You? didn’t match that picture.
In retrospect, he realized you weren't much taller than him, and so thin he couldn’t understand why he felt so threatened. If you did try something, he figured, he could probably win in a fight—especially if the bat he somehow now held in his hands came into play.
He couldn’t remember grabbing it. Or when it had reached his hands.
It was on the floor and he had tripped with it.
You had your back to him now, tense and uncertain, seeming just as out of it as he was. For all his distrust, Jason couldn’t tell who, between the two of them, was more afraid of what might happen next.
You were frantic, scrambling to lock all four bolts, including the padlock. Each metallic click seemed to drive Jason’s heart deeper into the pit of his stomach, where it churned in acid. But he was too far gone—trapped in fight-or-flight mode—to cry about it.
Your hand hovered near the floor, near the umbrellas scattered there. Groping blindly for a handle, probably searching for the bat’s. Or maybe, fingers crossed, an umbrella to pity him.
Call it hopeful thinking.
Jason heard you curse under your breath, blaming yourself for throwing “it” too hard behind you. Still, you didn’t dare take your eyes off the door, as if you believed your unrelenting stare could alone hold it in place, as if sheer willpower wasn't already the only thing keeping that piece of wood standing. From this side, the door looked even shoddier, barely more than splintered wood and peeling paint. Jason stared at it, and you, his mind buzzing. For a fleeting second, he thought he could probably bring it down if he wanted to, so clearly the adrenaline was getting to his head.
“I think… I think it’s safe,” you muttered. Your voice shook, but the words didn’t sound like they were meant to reassure anyone but you.
Your trembling hands dropped to your sides, and you stepped away from the door.
“Safe?” Jason barked, his voice sharp, teetering on the edge of hysteria.
That’s when he learned the first thing about his so-called sister. Other than the assumptions he’d already built in his head, you were jumpy. You flinched, almost as if you hadn’t expected him to speak or still be there. To what he had to ask; Where else would he go?
His hands tightened around the bat, frustration bubbling in his chest.
Right. He had a weapon. Maybe that explained your jumpiness when facing him.
“Wow.” Your hands shot up in surrender, in a reflexive, almost lazy gesture of defeat. You didn't want to appear threatening, but your wide eyes just ticked Jason off. “So that’s where the bat went.”
“Why did you drag me in like that?” Jason barely hides the accusation. An unspoken ‘Why can’t you be normal?’ wail hung in his mind. He decided against saying it outright—better to avoid sounding desperate or offended, even if both ships had sailed.
“Because the Boogeyman was about to get you? Obviously?” you shot back, your tone spoke to a child far younger than him. Your grimace wasn’t for him though.
“What?” Confused.
“What?” You mimicked. Jason felt whatever hope he had for your help steadily slipping away.
“What— are you doing?!”
“How about you put the bat down, buddy—back with the umbrellas? I’m not going to attack you,” Jason cut you off, his frustration boiling over. “You pushed me into your apartment! If anything, you’re kidnapping me—”
“There was a man outside!” you cut him off yourself with a sharp exclamation and throwing your hands in the air, sounding genuinely offended at being called out. Good. Jason couldn't be the only one losing it here. “And stop shouting,” you hissed, lowering your voice but glaring at him. “Other people live here.”
Jason glanced around. “This place is disgusting.” Home wasn't better, but he was pissed.
“Thanks,” There was a sharp edge, more venom in your tone than you’d intended. It startled Jason enough to make him take a step back.
Seeing your little brother back away from you should've tug on your heartstrings. It did. Almost tearing them off at the memory of a toddler gleefully making a mess of his food, yet looking so utterly blameless.
You couldn't be angry at Jason—if this was truly Jason. You had to remember who you were getting angry at and would/could cry.
Still, you should’ve been ashamed of the mess. You looked like you knew you should.
The apartment was tiny, cramped, and barely livable. The peeling wallpaper was stained yellow. Dirty dishes piled in the sink, a leaning tower of neglect, and discarded takeout containers dotted the counters like forgotten relics. The lone couch sagged under its own weight, covered in a mismatched patchwork of old blankets, and the floor—God, the floor...
Jason, once a master of breaking down your stubborn resolve with those big, pleading eyes, probably for the best, didn't seem to remember his power over you even having already made you back down. You sighed and leaned against the door. Slowly, you slid down until you hit the floor. The movement felt pitiful, like a defeated video game boss collapsing after the final blow. Only there was no triumphant music playing in the background and it looked sadder.
You stared at the floor, head tilted slightly forward, shoulders slumped. “It’s been a while,” you muttered, your voice strained, “since I talked to actual people, okay? Sorry for… the mess. I guess.”
And Jason reluctantly lowered his guard.
The bat still clenched tightly in his hands, eventually lowered, no longer pointing at you. Even so, he kept it close as he sat down on the floor, mirroring your posture.
“S’okay,” he mumbled.
“You look battered,” you said before a ten year old could take pity on you.
“You look high.”
To what his sister gasped, hand flying to your chest in mock offense. “I don’t—do I?—” And stopped abruptly. A pause, a sigh, and then you scratched the back of your neck, avoiding his gaze. “Okay, fair enough. ‘m not like that, but they cut the water off Monday morning so...”
“...It’s wednesday,”Jason saw you wince.
“What are you doing here anyway? How did you find me? Or even get here in the first place?”
“I walked…” Jason admitted, trailing off. He’d wanted the silence to stretch a little longer, but…
“(Name)?”
“Hey,” you cut in, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Glad to know you remember my name.”
“I came because of mom… Was there really someone in the hallway?”
“Yeah... Some creep. I'm 80% sure he’s a pimp too.”
“A pin? What's that?”
“What's what?” Suddenly remembering the limits and implications of talking to a ten year old. Even if the streets were more home than Catherine and Willis, Jason was still a child. You too, but you have literally lived in the streets for some time.
Wonderful times.
“Doesn’t matter. Just be more careful, Jason.”
He hesitated, the weight of his next words sinking his shoulders. “Mom 's bad.”
Your face fell. “You shouldn’t have left her alone with Dad if she was already—”
“Willis is gone.”
“Gone?”
“Jail.”
“…Huh.” You slumped back against the door, your hand rubbing at your temple. “Well… you shouldn’t go back out at this hour,” you muttered, your tone softening. “Especially not in the rain.” You pushed yourself to your feet with a groan. “I’ll grab you a towel… Food?”
His stomach grumbled, betraying him entirely.
“Yeah. Food too then.”
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wato im halfway thru parrots unstable vid and the way you left actually hit me so hard. ARGHAGAGRG
everyone else acting: yeah, I don't know if this is it... wato1876: *on the verge of tears, staring at Wifies, "always have a way out"*
you make me sick /pos
I’m glad you enjoyed my amateur voice acting! Everyone puts in a lot of effort, I just find it very easy to put emotion in my words, and its fun, it adds depth to an otherwise very high octane. Disappointment is very common in unstable and that tone is heard a lot, but Wato wasn’t sad because *they themself* didn’t have a way out, yes they wanted to be safe, but essentially their entire world was crumbling around them, all their friends went every which way. Wato may have a hard outer shell, and extremely blunt, but what hurts more is seeing someone who cares so genuinely much about something being ripped at one by one. If Wato was the first to go, it wouldn’t have been as bad, but seeing everyone leave before him sunk him deeper and deeper into pain. The idea of Parrot seeing his final hope seep through his hands and the devastation he must feel really is what broke Wato.
I have experienced things like this IRL (obviously not as severe, but the sensation you get leaving high-school for the very last time, and standing alone as the field slowly clears for the very last time). I react the way I do because my character has a lot of empathy (the point it hurts him emotionally), and understands why people do things they do. Wemmbu abandoning Sky Civ -> He wants to save himself and truly didn’t care if it meant risking himself. Wifies leave Parrot last episode when going to Farlands -> He just wanted what was best for Parrot since he too saw Parrot ripping himself apart.
Wato secluded himself for so long because he knew he was susceptible to being hurt, and he knows having friends/attachments is a weakness. He knows they are but still cares about people. I tried to show Wato as a dynamic character that changes throughout the videos and reacts how any normal human would. Confused and scared. Not every line is perfect and every action won’t make full sense, but when have we- humans- been perfect.
I like the humanity in a character, the imperfections. That is what makes a good character. Not their tragic downfall, but just the limits of a being.
If I had a beefier computer, I’d make something insane. Editing speed because of lag is my only bottleneck. I love stories, always have. This is just a small slice of stories I want to convey. Even End Barrens was not to what I wanted it to be.
Wato1876
Thought I should at-least give y’all one big character lore drop before I go to bed for the night. What can I say, writing is fun.
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sonic storybook AU
making this post mainly to document what i've got so far for myself (will update this post as i get further along in development). synopsis - sonic the hedgehog: storybook au is about taking the characters of sonic and putting them into a different genre of story, one that’s old-fashioned and fantastical. the stakes are lower, the overall aesthetic is more rustic and rural. it is heavily inspired by over the garden wall and beatrix potter's books.
plot - in this au, sonic and friends live in the forest, with the exception of a few characters like shadow and silver. dr robotnik is a threat because he wants to capture sonic and his friends to study them. fortunately, the critters are skilled at evading him. the animals keep away from humans and live in different faction-like groups (similar to warrior cats' clans, except they aren't all interconnected as much). shadow and sonic are both magical in a sense…i haven't fully figured out exactly how yet, but they come from magic, which is why they have no biological family members. really trying to push the idea that they are two sides of the same coin. this is where sonic gets his super speed from and where shadow gets his strength and durability from. characters: shadow - shadow came from the forest with no family to speak of, and was found by maria robotnik, who quickly befriended the little hedgehog and brought him back to her home. she begged her grandfather to let her keep him, and he relented. shadow and maria immediately formed a close bond, spending nearly every waking moment together over the next few years. gerald, her grandfather, eventually found out that shadow was extremely durable and illness-resistant, and proposed the idea of using shadow to help find a cure to maria's illness. the two kids reluctantly agreed, though shadow was excited at the prospect of possibly helping to cure maria. the tests were hard on shadow, but he was just as willing as professor robotnik to do whatever it would take to save maria from her terminal illness. more years go by, and maria has not gotten any better. in fact, she's gotten much worse, now being pretty much permanently bedridden; it's clear she has very little time left. one fateful evening, she tells shadow goodbye, and a few hours later, she dies. gerald, overcome by grief, makes shadow feel as though he didn't try hard enough to help her, and kicks him out, not wanting shadow around anymore since he would only remind him of their failure to save his granddaughter. shadow flees to the forest, where he spends lots of time alone for awhile. eventually, he meets sonic, who invites him to stay with his group. sonic - sonic, like shadow, came from the forest with no family to speak of, but with unnaturally fast legs. he found tails at a young age, and they've been together ever since. the two of them eventually met up with knuckles, amy, cream, vanilla, and others and formed their own little group. sonic is second-in-command to knuckles. tails - named for his twin tails that he was born with, he was bullied and ostracized for them practically from the moment he was born. all he had was his mother; his siblings bullied him almost as much as the other critters around them. but when his mother succumbed to an illness, he was suddenly left very alone, with no one willing to take care of him. he ran away from home, which is how he met sonic, who found him crying soon after he ran away. tails and sonic quickly bonded, and they've been inseparable best friends ever since. knuckles - knuckles is the leader of the group which contains, among others, him, sonic, and tails. knuckles took on the role of leader of the group with encouragement from his friends, and takes that role very seriously. he came from far away, being forced to leave his home due to a natural disaster which wiped out his entire tribe. he traveled around a lot, looking for a new place to call home, and found it when he met sonic and tails. he formed a strong bond with them very quickly, and from there it was easy to make the decision to stay in their forest with them.
amy - amy rose and her parents lived together in the forest, but one particularly harsh winter had them struggling to stay well-fed, and they faced starvation. refusing to go down without a fight, amy left during a snow storm to look for any food she could find. she traveled far, and came upon a frozen stream, which she needed to cross because she thought she saw blackberries on the other side. the ice cracked and broke beneath her, and she fell in; luckily, she wasn't far from knuckles' group's camp, and her screams for help did not go unanswered. sonic rushed to save her, pulling her out just in time. amy, shaken from having almost drowned, started to cry and pretty soon she was telling sonic about all of her and her family's woes. sonic, of course, insisted that they join their group, and so, with help from knuckles, sonic, and tails, amy and her family were led from their old home to their new one.
art:
#sonic the hedgehog#sth#sth au#sonic au#sonic the hedgehog au#shadow the hedgehog#sonadow#maria robotnik#ark siblings#gerald robotnik#sonic storybook au#miles tails prower#tails the fox#knuckles the echidna#amy rose#mine
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MY STRANGE ADDICTION - RAFE CAMERON
dealer! rafe cameron x maddy perez
Maddy Perez has never been addicted to drugs—nor will she ever be. Her only addiction is the campus dealer she just can't seem to shake off and no matter how hard she tries to break free, she keeps getting pulled back into his orbit.
masterlist w.c — 4.0 c.w — smut, p in v a.n — choosing to continue this cause i got two free weeks and like lots of ideas abt these two for someee reason. lets ignore that rafe would actually off himself if he had to deal with maddy hihi :)
maddy goes to a party with nate and guess who's there? our very own campus dealer
Maddy’s gaze was fixed on Nate, though her attention was split in too many directions to keep track of. SZA’s smooth voice floated through the speakers, the music blending with the background chatter of the party. Nate was talking—something about football or his job—but his words felt like static. Her mind wandered, her eyes constantly flicking around, scanning the crowd. She hated how automatic it was, this ridiculous, involuntary search her brain always seemed to conduct.
She forced herself to focus, blinking hard as if to clear the fog clouding her thoughts. Nate’s voice filtered back in. “—think I’ll be moving up in ranks pretty soon,” he finished, his tone proud.
Maddy nodded, plastering on a polite smile, though she had no idea what “ranks” he was even referring to. “That’s great. I’m happy for you. Sounds like things are going well.”
Her tone was effortless, practiced, and Nate seemed satisfied with her response. He leaned in, adjusting the strap of her slightly crumpled bikini top with the kind of familiarity she used to find endearing. Once, his boldness might have been attractive, thrilling even. Now, it was just…irritating. Her instincts told her to pull back, but she stopped herself. She’d come here with him, after all. His “date.”
“Are the others here yet?” Nate asked, scanning the crowd.
The answer hovered on her tongue, ready to be spoken, but she faltered. That chill along her spine was unmistakable, a sensation that set her on edge in an entirely different way. She didn’t have to look to know. It was him.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the blurred outlines of people entering the party. She couldn’t make out faces, only the edges of dark clothing and purposeful movements. Her body recognized him before her brain did.
Her gaze darted briefly to her outfit—a black bikini paired with an oversized white button-up for a pretense of modesty. She let out a shaky breath, willing herself to refocus. “They’re on their way,” she said lightly. “They wanted to pregame.”
Nate raised a brow, his expression curious. “Since when do you skip out on pregaming?”
Her pulse quickened, not from Nate’s question but from the pull she felt across the space between her and him. The boy who made her feel utterly insane. The one she wanted to shove down a flight of stairs whenever caught him with someone else.
“I don’t like drinking when I don’t know the host,” she said, her tone even. It wasn’t entirely untrue, though it wasn’t the real reason either.
Nate gave her a reassuring smile, leaning closer. “I’m here. You know I’d never let anything happen to you.”
She forced another smile. “I know. But still…better safe than sorry.” She tilted her cup slightly, letting the drink spill silently into the grass behind her before handing it to him. “Could you get me a refill?”
He nodded, his smile warm and easy, before disappearing toward the drink table.
The moment he was gone, Maddy turned on her pool chair, angling herself to face the water. A few people were swimming, but most lingered on the edges, laughing and chatting in tight groups.
Her phone buzzed against her leg, the vibration pulling her attention. Leaning back, she reached for it and opened the message.
Her eyes scanned the words briefly before instinctively looking up, searching for him. He had to be watching. He always was.
It didn’t take long to find him. He sat directly across from her on the far side of the pool, surrounded by his friends. And, as if drawn by some invisible force, his eyes were already on her.
That electric jolt hit her again, the same one it always did when their gazes locked. It was sharp, unmistakable, and it made her feel more alive than she cared to admit.
Not wanting to stare like an idiot, Maddy dropped her gaze back to her phone and began typing her reply.
Across the pool, he watched her with a faint smile tugging at his lips. He found this amusing, he'd always liked it when she was being bitchy. At least she was responding now—it was better than the stony silence she’d given him for weeks.
And that was true. She probably wouldn't fuck Nate. That was kinda gross.
“Here’s your refill. Sorry that took a minute,” Nate said as he sat down near her feet, holding out a plastic cup filled with something bright red.
Maddy clicked off her phone, tucking it between her thighs before reaching for the drink. “That’s okay, thank you.” She took a small sip, letting the artificial sweetness settle on her tongue.
For the first time all evening, Nate was quiet. Too quiet. Maddy glanced over, her brows knitting together when she noticed he wasn’t even looking at her. His gaze was fixed somewhere else.
“What?” she asked, her tone laced with impatience.
Nate didn’t answer right away. Instead, he gave a subtle nod toward something—or someone—in the distance. “He’s coming over here.”
Maddy didn’t need clarification. She already knew.
“He looks pissed,” Nate added, shifting uncomfortably.
Maddy narrowed her eyes, leaning back in her chair like she had all the time in the world. “He is,” she said casually, taking another sip of her drink. “I told him you called him a dog.”
Nate’s eyes went wide with panic. “What? Why would you do that?”
She smirked, savoring his reaction for just a moment too long. “I’m joking. Jesus, relax. He’s not a murderer.” She wasn’t entirely sure about that last part.
Before Nate could say anything else, Rafe’s looming presence was suddenly upon them. His large hands landed on Nate’s shoulders with enough force to make Nate flinch.
“Jacobs,” Rafe said, his voice low and heavy with unspoken authority.
Maddy rolled her eyes, leaning back further into the pool chair, feigning indifference as though she could actually ignore the scene unfolding in front of her.
Rafe didn’t say another word. He simply nodded his head to the side, a silent command for Nate to leave.
Nate didn’t even hesitate. He was gone in seconds, a move so predictable it almost made her laugh.
“You could’ve picked someone who made it feel a little like a competition,” Rafe said, lowering himself into the spot Nate had vacated.
Maddy let out a mock-hurt hum. “Your homeboys weren’t free, but I’ll definitely keep them in mind for next time.”
Rafe tilted his head, eyes narrowing at her before he chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s good. That’s really good.”
He shifted closer, his tone taking on a serious edge. “Are you done, though? Can we put an end to this, or do you want to keep stretching it out?”
Maddy tilted her head, playing dumb. “Clarify,” she said, her voice dripping with faux sweetness.
Rafe’s jaw tightened, irritation flashing in his eyes. “I’m going to ask you the same thing I asked you a month ago, yeah?” He leaned forward, his gaze pinning her in place. “What do you want? Because I’ve apologized—every damn day for the past three weeks—and I’ve spoiled you rotten. Even though you can’t even answer the fucking phone when I call.”
He leaned back, spreading his arms wide in a gesture of exasperation. “So what is it? You want me to get on my knees?”
The corner of Maddy’s mouth twitched, and she could feel the playful glint in her eyes betraying her. The idea didn’t sound bad at all.
Rafe caught her expression immediately and shook his head. “Don’t do the most, Maddy.”
She straightened up, sitting forward so that they were nearly nose-to-nose. “I’m going to tell you the same thing I told you a month ago, yeah?” she echoed back at him, mimicking his tone.
He waited, his gaze sharp and unyielding.
“I don’t want shit from you,” she said with a shrug, her voice light. “The gifts have been nice, though.”
She reached out and tapped the tip of his nose with her finger, the move so childish it bordered on petty. Then, without another word, she stood up and walked away.
Rafe stayed seated, watching her disappear into the crowd, his jaw tight with frustration. Maddy didn’t bother looking back. She had ten minutes to find Nate before her friends showed up—and she wasn’t about to waste them.
“Nate, let’s dance,” Maddy said, grabbing his hand and tugging him away from his friends. He hesitated for only a second, his gaze darting to the group he’d just left.
“I don’t want to get in the middle of shit, you know that,” he muttered, his voice low and uncertain.
Maddy sighed, rolling her eyes in visible irritation. “There isn’t shit to get in the middle of. Don’t worry about him.” Her tone was firm, dismissive, as if the mere mention of Rafe was beneath her.
Nate didn’t look entirely convinced, but when Maddy began to sway her hips to the pulsing beat of the music, his resistance faltered. Almost instinctively, his hands found her waist, his touch tentative at first but growing bolder as she moved against him.
The crowd around them thickened, bodies pressing together as the bass of the music thumped louder, rattling the walls. The heat in the room was almost stifling, a mix of sweat and cologne hanging heavy in the air. She pulled Nate closer, leaning up to brush her lips along the shell of his ear in a way that made him shiver.
Her eyes, however, were elsewhere.
Through the chaotic swirl of bodies, her gaze found him. Rafe sat with his friends, a pretty brunette perched on his lap, laughing at something he’d said. A joint dangled lazily between his fingers, though he seemed utterly uninterested in the girl giggling in his ear or the conversation happening around him.
His attention was fixed entirely on Maddy.
She felt the sharp thrill of his gaze, like electricity crackling along her skin. The corner of her mouth twitched upward in the faintest smirk.
Nate was speaking—something about how hot she looked, maybe—but Maddy barely registered his words. Instead, she cut him off mid-sentence, tugging him down to crash her lips against his.
Nate responded eagerly, his arms wrapping tighter around her as if he couldn’t get enough. He wasn’t the most compelling person she’d ever been with—far from it, actually. Everything about him was a stark contrast to Rafe: where Rafe was sharp and commanding, Nate was soft and accommodating. But he served his purpose.
Maddy let her hands trail up his chest, pulling him deeper into the moment. His hands slid lower, grazing her hips before resting on her ass. She let out a soft moan when he gave her a light squeeze, tilting her head just enough to draw him further in.
When she finally pulled back, her lips were slick and swollen, her breath mingling with his. Nate’s lips chased hers instantly, desperate and clumsy in his eagerness.
She giggled softly, brushing her fingers along his jaw. “Let’s go upstairs,” she murmured, her voice dripping with suggestion.
Nate didn’t need to be told twice. Grabbing her hand, he began weaving through the sea of bodies, his grip firm as he led her toward the stairs.
Nate had her pinned against the wall before they even made it to a room. His hands roamed her waist, gripping like he was afraid to lose his chance. The hallway was dimly lit, the muffled bass from downstairs vibrating through the walls. Maddy’s breath hitched—not from excitement, but from the sharp pang of regret she was trying to suppress.
It was a blur. One moment, Nate was in front of her, his lips brushing her neck. The next, he was ripped away with a force that made her stumble. Her eyes flew open, her back still pressed to the cool plaster, and there was Rafe.
He stood between her and Nate, broad-shouldered and seething, his jaw tight and his chest heaving. Nate, caught off guard, staggered before regaining his footing.
“You—” Rafe began, his voice low and dangerous, but he paused as Nate straightened and, to Maddy’s surprise, stepped forward with a spark of defiance.
“Don’t get any ideas, Jacobs,” Rafe warned, his tone dripping with disdain. His sharp blue eyes cut into Nate, daring him to react.
When he didn't leave, Rafe turned to Nate in surprise. "You need something?"
Nate didn’t flinch. His gaze flicked between Rafe and Maddy before he squared his shoulders. “If you don’t feel safe with him,” he said, his voice steady but charged, “I’m not leaving.”
Maddy didn’t need to look at Rafe to know that Nate had just lit the match.
“Do you want me to—” Rafe’s voice exploded, his body lurching forward like a coiled spring released. Maddy moved faster, her hand shooting out to grab his arm, halting him before he could make contact.
“Nate, go!” she barked, her voice slicing through the tension like a whip.
For a moment, Nate hesitated. His concern for her was evident, but so was his understanding of the situation. One second longer, and he turned, retreating down the hallway.
As soon as he was gone, Maddy spun on Rafe, shoving him hard in the chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she demanded, her voice trembling with anger.
Rafe barely moved under her shove, his stance unyielding, his lips curling into a smirk that was as infuriating as it was amused. “What’s wrong with me?” he shot back, his voice loud enough to echo. “Isn't this exactly why the fuck you do this dumb shit? Don't act like you have any interest in that poor boy.”
“The only poor boy is the one I'm looking at right now,” Maddy snapped, her voice rising to meet his. “I don't see what the fuck the issue is since last I checked, you were nice and cosied up with your little friend by the pool."
Rafe’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. “I’m not the one who showed up with someone on my arm,” he retorted, his words sharp. “You think that shits funny, grinding your ass all over him like a slut?”
The slap came before she could stop herself. The sound was deafening in the narrow hallway, sharp and precise like the crack of a whip. Rafe’s head jerked slightly, and for a fleeting moment, she saw the sting in his eyes before he masked it with that infuriating nonchalance.
“Did I cross a line?” he asked, his voice smooth but laced with mockery. His smirk returned, daring her to do it again.
“You’re a piece of shit, you know that?” Maddy spat, her voice trembling with fury. She stepped closer, invading his space and he nods slowly like he knows something she doesn't, "You say the same shit when your pussy is creaming on my dick."
Maddy didn't want to think about it, had been avoiding the image, the memory of sex with Rafe. But he'd brought it up now, rubbed it right in her face and she was faced with the undeniable truth that he was the best she'd ever had and he knew it. He was rubbing it in her face right now, he was always rubbing it in her face that no matter what he said and how he acted, she'd never say no.
Maddy’s mind betrayed her, conjuring memories she had buried deep. She could see it clearly now—the way he moved, the way he touched her, the way he made her lose herself entirely.
She must have let it show on her face because his smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
Maddy grabs him by the back of his neck before he can say something even more stupid and crushes her lips to his in a kiss that is somewhere between angry and desperate.
Rafe's got her legs wrapped around him in a flash, hands firmly on her ass as he walks them into the first room he can blindly find. Maddy's lips are coaxed open by the slide of his tongue as he slams the door closed behind them and shoves her back against the wall. She huffs at the force of his shove, "Be fucking gentle."
"Stop talking so fucking much." He grunted, mouth moving from her lips to her neck and Maddy couldn't surpress the moan that forced her way past her lips. She felt Rafe's eager fingers on the thin strap of her bikini bottom, "Don't you fucking dare rip those," She knew him all too well and these bottoms were the only clothing she had on her.
"Why? You seem to love the attention you've been getting lately." Rafe murmurs as his hand slides down to unzip his pants swiftly. She's pleased when he doesn't completely ignore her polite request and pushes her bikini to the side. Maddy whimpers, nails digging into his shoulder and back when she feels him press against her aching folds.
"Is this what you wanted, baby? This what you needed?" he whispered in a mocking voice as his tip tentatively pushes inside of Maddy's seeping cunt and her legs involuntarily tighten around him. "Now you wanna shut up, huh?" Rafe groans as he pushes inside of her and Maddy feels the air escape her lungs.
"God," Maddy whined, head falling back against the door as his stupidly big cock nestled itself deep inside her and the pleasure and pain takes her breath away. For a moment, she's not sure if breathing is still an option until he starts steadily moving and as with everything, Rafe does—it's rough and she can barely contain the moans that tumble out of her mouth.
His grip on her thighs is bruising and with every harsh thrust, her back is slamming back onto that door but she can't even find it in her to care. Her eyes flutter for a moment and she tries to keep them on him, tries to keep her focus because she can't deny that he looks so fucking good right now—all focused with groans and grunts escaping his lips as he hammers into her walls.
But it doesn't last, it can't when he's being this rough, fucking her into the door and making it impossible for her to focus on anything but the way he was pounding into her. "Fuck, baby. It's been too long, too fucking long.." He groans through gritted teeth, "Think anyone can fuck you like this? Think Jacobs can fuck you like this?" And Maddy's pathetic moans filling the room do little to keep him from trying to pick a fight with her like usual.
"Shut t-the f—"
"This is my fucking pussy," Rafe continues and each words is followed by a harsh thrust that pressed Maddy against the door over and over and Maddy's hands are trembling, scrambling to hold onto him, to assure she doesn't lose her grip with how weak her legs are starting to feel. "Mine. You're all mine, Maddy."
"Fuck you. I h-hate you.." Maddy cries out, legs tightening around Rafe because she doesn't belong to him or anyone but also because his dick is splitting her open and she can't decide wether she wants him to stop or keep going.
"Yeah, I know. You hate me so much you letting me pound your cunt. That's how much you hate me, huh?" Rafe laughs, his hands holding her up like he can feel she's about give out completely. Maddy's brain feels like it's short circuiting as Rafe goes at a pace too brutal to keep up with.
A couple of nasty words sit at the tip of her tongue for Rafe but they won't come out, a sentence refuses to form in her mind. "F-Fuck..fuck!" Maddy can't—won't ever get past how mindblowingly good the sex was.
"Mm, y-you..you're.." Maddy starts mumbling despite how her eyes are rolling back and she's seeing spots in her vision, "You're j-just some half-decent sex," Maddy chokes out and Rafe cocks his head at that, amused smirk on his lips. "Half decent?" he breathes out as Maddy clenches around his fat cock.
Maddy's about to make it worse, seconds away from telling him Nate has fucked her ten times better when he brutally pounds into her, "Rafe!" she screams as he repeatedly hits that sweet spot and she knows it's retaliation for calling their sex decent. It only makes Maddy want to say something worse.
She's gone though, whatever curse words she's throwing at him are coming out in blubbers and moans and with the way he's pounding into her, Maddy's surprised the door is still holding. "Mm..mmm..y-you you..y.." Maddy rambles absentmindedly, her words lost between the moans that are escaping her lips as Rafe's thrust only get sloppier and faster.
"Can barely get through your sentences, baby. You sure the sex is only half-decent?" He teases and Maddy knows that somewhere deep inside, that comment irritates her but right now, with his cock hammering into her, there is absolutely nothing that she cares about apart from the pit she can feel in her stomach right now.
Maddy whines, high and soft because the exhaustion is starting to catch up to her. She needs to come. "God, you look so fucking good right now, can't believe I lasted a month.." Rafe almost growls as his hips stutter and his own orgasm draws closer and closer. "Need it..n-need you.." Maddy moans before she feels herself being pushed over the edge and her blissful orgasm spills out of her. Rafe has a couple more thrusts in him before he's following suit and with a deep low groan, he's creaming inside of her.
For a few seconds, there was only silence between them, accompanied by the sound of their heavy breathing. Rafe’s forehead pressed against hers, a rare moment of calm between them both. It was a rare occurence in their particular situation—an interlude between their constant fighting or fucking. This moment, existing somewhere in the space between, might have been the closest they ever came to being normal.
The muffled roar of cheers and music swelled from downstairs, snapping the quiet like a rubber band. Rafe eased her back to the ground, and Maddy stepped away, her legs shaky but her resolve intact. She caught her reflection in the mirror, her makeup slightly smudged, hair tousled. Sighing, she adjusted herself as best she could.
A towel landed unceremoniously on her head, startling her. She turned, glaring at Rafe, who stood there with a half-smirk like he’d done her a favor.
“You expect me to wipe with this?” she asked, holding the towel up with a grimace. “Where did you even find it?”
“Too good for a towel now?” he mumbled, shaking his head as he reached for something else. He handed her a clean napkin with a smile.
She snatched it from him without a word, cleaning herself quickly before tossing it into the small trash bin by the dresser. When she straightened, he was behind her, his arm slipping loosely around her neck, his lips brushing her ear as he murmured, “Wanna get out of here?”
She did. God, she did. But instead of saying so, she turned, her expression hardening. “You can’t act like that toward Nate again. Or anyone,” she said firmly, her tone daring him to argue.
Rafe’s eyes rolled, the dismissive motion igniting her frustration. “Go fuck Jacobs if you think he’s such a saint,” he shot back mockingly, leaning against the wall like he owned the place.
Maddy raised a brow, the edge of her lips curling into a challenging smirk. “I don’t want to fuck Nate. But I can fuck him if I want to. That’s what I’m trying to make clear to you.”
His jaw tightened, his blue eyes flashing with something dark and unreadable. “I don’t need you to make shit clear to me,” he bit out, his voice low and rough.
Her own temper flared, her voice sharp enough to cut through the tension. “Watch your fucking mouth.”
And just like that, the delicate peace shattered.
Here they went again.
masterlist
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron fanfiction#maddy perez#outer banks#obx#euphoria#rafe fic#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut
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Hey! 7 or 16 for the Rook story time prompts!
Hey! Thank you so much!!
For 16. Rook falling in love for the first time:
(prompts)
(Rook Ingellvar/Lucanis (and past Ingellvar/OC) | 1,248 Words | CW: Mention of corpses, suggestive intro)
The heat always took her by surprise—the heat of a living person’s skin against her own, hands lifting to touch her, lips against her cheek.
Ingellvar had grown too used to the cold rigidity of corpses, the waxy sheen their skin took on when they’d been dead too long. But this—for someone who had gone most of her life without being touched by anybody, this was a revelation.
Edeline was already unbuttoning Lenore’s shirt, nimble fingers dancing over her starched shirt and below, tracing the edge of her underthings with the tip of her fingernail. Lenore couldn’t pull her mouth away long enough to speak, but if she’d been able to she might’ve told the other woman to slow down. They had all night, after all. They slept only a few feet and a thin wall apart from each other and nobody was going to interrupt.
There was no need to rush; they could’ve made it to one of their beds instead of doing this on the settee. Edeline never seemed to care about these facts.
“You were late again,” she said, mouth dragging over Lenore’s lips and lower, where her throat met her jaw. “I was waiting for hours.”
“I—have my practical Tuesday,” Lenore said, and parted her legs readily when Edeline pressed her knee between them. “Had to finish—I needed to—mph.”
Heat—skin touching her skin. Ah, she never felt as alive as she did when this was happening. It was foolish, she knew; the late nights, her increasing lack of focus on her coursework, and—and everything else. She was putting her future at risk by doing this, but it felt so good. She was drunk on it, tilting her head away so Edeline could press her teeth into the soft skin of her throat.
Touch me, she wanted to say, touch me, touch me—but she was already being touched, hands sliding over her ribs to her hips, sliding off her shirt until it trapped her shoulders in place.
“I was all alone,” Edeline went on, drawing back to tie her long hair back, “waiting for you.”
She was beautiful. Disastrous, but beautiful. Lenore stared up at her for a moment, eyes wide, and wondered: Is this love? It was difficult to know. She’d never loved anything but the Necropolis, had never been loved by anybody but Grief, so much as the embodiment of mourning could love somebody it hadn’t lost.
“I want you,” Edeline went on, bending once more to her.
Was it love? She didn’t know. The heat against her skin, the breath catching in her lungs—that had to be love, didn’t it?
Yes, she decided as she lifted her head to kiss her roommate again. This is probably love.
|
“Rook? Do you need to go?”
Lucanis’s soft voice roused Lenore, who sat on the cot in his room. His hand brushed her elbow, finding bare skin at her forearm below. If he had touched her arm with lightning, it would not have electrified her more.
“No,” she told him, dragging her eyes open. “No. I’m awake.”
“It isn’t the best place to sleep,” he told her, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Not that I have tried to do so very often myself. You would be tired in the morning.”
Lenore smiled and stretched her neck one way and then the other. Dozing in this position had been a dreadful idea. Her neck already hurt from a few minutes of it; surely a whole night of it would make tomorrow a nightmare. Still…it was tempting, just to have an excuse to stay.
“I will still be here in the morning,” he told her, his voice still soft.
His eyes lingered on her face, her mouth. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him. They hadn’t done that, though he’d made his interest clear. Their near-kiss in this room was the closest they’d gotten. She found she didn’t mind as much as she might’ve expected. Something about being near him made it difficult to question.
“Promise?” she asked.
“You have my word,” he told her, the corner of his mouth twitching again. Leaning back against the wall while they’d been talking had mussed the back of his hair slightly. It was…endearing, she decided. She’d never seen his hair messy like this before.
“You will sleep better in your own bed,” he added after a moment. They were so close. She could kiss him right now. She could lean forward right now and—
“It’s generous to call it a bed,” she told him and stood, stretching her back, “but I take your point.”
“I will walk you to the door,” he said.
“Bodyguard duty now, too?” she asked, opening the door to the pantry. Nobody was in the dining room beyond. Fortunate. “Overachiever.”
“Yes—I won’t charge you extra for it.”
Lenore laughed. She might’ve thought of something to say in response to that, but his hand found hers as they passed the table and any thought fled immediately from her mind.
His hands were so warm. That made sense, of course. She’d felt his hands before. He’d helped her up when she’d fallen in combat and passed her dishes at the table, among other things.
But he hadn’t ever held her hand before. He held it loosely now, as if ready to let go at any moment. It was difficult to hold very still and walk at the same time, but she tried it anyway. Anything to hold onto this moment a little longer. Could he tell that she’d slowed down? It was such a short distance to the door. She didn’t think she could drag it out terribly long, but…
“Thank you,” she told him. “For spending time with me tonight, I mean.”
“I could say the same to you.”
Drat. Here was the door already.
“Here,” he said, swinging the door open.
Beyond, the Fade looked more or less like it always did. There was no night here. That had certainly taken some getting used to.
“See you in the morning?” she said. His thumb ran over her knuckles, touching each in turn.
“Mm,” he said, and lifted her hand to his lips.
Lucanis kissed her, lips brushing against the scar over her third knuckle. It was hardly any contact at all, but he may as well have driven a blade through it for all the shock she felt.
Oh, she thought. Oh, dear.
“Goodnight, Rook,” he said, and she took three steps through the open doorway before she could think of anything to say in return.
“Goodnight, Lucanis,” she told him. He ducked his head and closed the door behind her. She was left blinking at the too-bright world beyond.
Before her, skeleton lovers embraced, the statue towering over the courtyard. The Caretaker had replaced a wolf statue with it one day when she’d been sleeping. It was almost precisely the same as the one she’d tended for years in the Necropolis. It seemed like a sign somehow that it was standing before her now.
No matter how long Lenore stared at the statue, it offered no guidance.
“Oh, dear,” she said, because it was all she could think.
Exhaling shakily, she raked her shorn locks back from her face and stumbled down a set of floating stairs toward her room. A fierce fullness in her chest, a song under her skin, a heat in her cheeks—that’s what love felt like.
If nothing else, she supposed it was good to finally know.
#rook ingellvar#rookanis#lucanis x rook#lenore ingellvar#lucanis dellamorte#shivunin scrivening#dav#veilguard#prompt response#ask response#listen. listen.#he thought as much about kissing her hand before he did it as she did afterward#lucanis kissing her hand first is so important to me sddfbksbd#thank you again for the prompt!
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dancing in a jazz bar.
musicteacher!reader asks scienceteacher!matt to go out after work.
a/n: shes long again sorry!! I loved writing this even tho ive never written angst before, theres not much of it but its there!! I feel like I rambled so lmk in the comments Have fun reading hop you enjoy! This is PART 1 so yea! Contains; drinking, kissing, dancing, angst, crying!
wc; 2,270
After weeks of endless coffee runs, hanging out during free periods, sitting with each other in meetings, you finally had a great idea.
“Let’s go out tonight!” you beam as you sit down. This idea came to you a couple of days ago. Matt was always so clean, no, professional…? You desperately wanted to see a new side of him, and this was just the answer. Matt looks at you weary; you know he’s not the “going out” type, but it’s worth a try.
“Please, please, it would be so fun. I know his cute little bar with cute tables and a live jazz band.” You pause to look at him, and he’s just staring back at you thinking. “Matt, a live jazz band” You say, looking through your eyelashes at him.
“Okay, fine. But I would still be in my work clothes.” He points down to his light blue button-down that’s rolled up to his elbows, and his dark work pants.
“Matt, we’re going to a jazz bar; this is fine. I have to see if I have something else; this isn’t really ‘bar’.” You gesture to your frumpy sweater and work jeans. “I usually have concert stuff in my office…” the sentence trails off as you think about what you have.
“I think what you’re wearing looks great; I don’t see a problem with this.” He says this so matter-of-factly like it’s a fact in one of his biology textbooks. It makes you blush, and you don’t know how to hide it, so you just turn away.
“Thanks, Matt, but I think I’m gonna change; meet me outside of my room after school, okay?” You pack up your stuff as you say this, and Matt gives you a small nod. You were excited; a night of drinking in a dimly lit jazz bar, maybe some dancing, with a cute guy. What else could a girl really ask for!
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
You did, in fact, change. It was a black halter dress with light blue embroidered flowers on it. It was casual enough to look like a coincidence. Even though you did bring this dress to school 2 weeks ago just in case this very plan worked out.
“You did change; you look…” He trails off, not being able to find the words as you gather your purse and touch up your lip gloss.
You turn to him smiling; he also changed. He’s now wearing a white button-down shirt with a black tie. It’s not a huge change, but he looks…different; maybe it’s the sun setting, but everything about this is different. “Wow, thank you, Matt. I see you also changed.” You look into his eyes and you can’t help but blush. You turn away, walking towards the door.
“This is just my parent-teacher conference shirt. I keep it in my room…” He looks down, smoothing his shirt down, fixing his tie, and clearing his throat.
“This place isn’t that far. It’s only a couple of blocks.” You two walk together, shoulder to shoulder, fingers brushing together slightly as you walk, but no one moves.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
You walk into the bar, taking your jackets off, brushing off the cold of Boston. The place was already buzzing with people talking and dancing. The band was already there. The minute you walk in, you immediately get a burst of confidence, becoming your usual energetic self.
“Okay, common, let’s sit!” You are beaming with energy. You’ve been in the place for all of 5 minutes, and it’s already one of the funnest nights. You grab his wrist, leading him to a booth near the back. Smooth jazz is spilling into all the cracks of the bar.
“This place is so…you.” Matt says, looking around at the place. The dim lighting, the thrifted and collected decor.
You grin at his comment. “Yeah, I used to be a regular here a lot during uni. Actually, one of my old scores from there is hanging somewhere here.” You gesture to the many piled-on decorations all around the bar.
“Good evening, guys! I’m Jillian. I’ll be your waitress. Can I get ya’ started on anything?” She comes over, notepad in hand, smiling at the two of you.
“Hi, I’ll just take a vodka cran’ on the rocks.” You smile at her again while she writes down your order. “And for you, sir?”
“Uhh, I’ll just take a whisky, neat.” He looks at you at the end of his order, like he was getting approval from you. “Okay, I’ll get those right away!” Your waitress leaves with a smile, and you look at Matt, resting your cheek in your hand.
“What?” he says, turning his head to look at you.
“What? Oh, nothing. Just that you like…whisky.” You say the drink name like it’s foreign to you.
“Well, even your drinks are grossly sweet.” He looks like he automatically relaxes when you speak.
“Grossly sweet, pfft, even your drinks are bitter.” You lean into the small table, making the gap smaller between the two of you. He scoffs and does the same. The two of you looking at each other, not a hint of awkwardness in the air.
“Okay, I got a vodka cran and a whiskey neat.” The waitress places the drinks down on the table. Your rings clicking against the cup of vodka tickling your tongue while sipping your drink.
He leans back in his part of the booth while sipping his drink. All you can do is stare at him while sipping your drink and crossing your legs, taking in the scene.
You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or your confidence, but you lean back into the table, putting your drink down. “Hey Matt,” you say whispering. “What?” He grins, leaning into your foreheads almost touching. “We should go dance.” You look at the dance floor, the band playing ‘Come Live With Me’ by Marvin Gaye. “I’m not really a dancer—” before he could finish, you’re dragging him to the dance floor. “Shut up, just dance!”
For a moment, you two are just standing hand in hand, swaying side to side to side, looking into each other’s eyes, but then Matt pulls you in closer, closing the gap between you and pressing your bodies together. The dance floor was packed with couples, but it couldn’t matter at all; it’s like you were the only ones there. Matt leads you to sway at the beat of the music, your hand making its way to the back of his neck.
“I’ve never seen this side of you before, Matt…I like it,” you whisper into his ear, leaning into him more.
“You bring out some side in me, y/n. I can’t explain it.” He pulls away, looking at you like there are words left unsaid.
The rest of the night was filled with dancing and drinks flowing. Every time you would be dancing, Matt would just give you this look. It makes your face heat up and your stomach hurt.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
You walk out of the bar. The moon is already out, the cold air making your face sting.
You turn toward Matt, sucking on your teeth, smiling. “Matt, I had a really fun time tonight. I haven’t had one like this in a while.” You step closer to him, grabbing his hand. “I’ve never experienced something like this. You are just so… amazing.”
“Oh, you and your compliments,Matt. Well, I guess I should be going home now.” The last sentence is slow, hinting at something more.
“Y/n, I can’t let you walk home alone this late. Please let me walk you.” He follows after you, walking by your side. “Well, if you insist.” You don’t try to hide your happiness at the fact that you get to spend more time with him. All he does is huff out a laugh at your comment as you walk down the busy street.
“I can’t believe my feet don’t hurt. I danced so much…” You two start making small talk again while walking, getting into a rhythm.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
The normally long walk felt ridiculously short once you got to your door. All you want to do is take matters into your own apartment and talk all night and spend your morning with him. He makes you feel some weird type of way you’ve never felt before, like you could say something crazy, but at the end of the day, he will still be there. You don’t know how to ever thank him for becoming someone so constant in your life.
Before you get your keys out, you turn to Matt, looking at him. You step towards him, and he doesn’t the same. Only inches between your faces. You can hear the first song you danced to in the back of your head. You think, ‘This is it. I have to do it.’
You lean into him, hesitant for a moment but evidently closing the gap between the two of your lips, touching. His unsure hands come up to your waist as yours reach his face; he leans into the kiss, his tongue finding its way into your mouth. The two of you get into a rhythm.
When you pull away to catch your breath, chest moving up and down, you look up at him with a smile. You can’t read his face; the dim light coming from the moon casting a shadow on his face. You lean in for another kiss, but he abruptly stops, making you confused.
“I’m sorry, Y/n. I can’t, not like this. I-“ He fidgets with his hands nervously. His words barely register in your brain; all you know is that you need to get out of there.
“Oh, I see. Goodnight, Matt.” You swiftly open your door, tears forming in your eyes. Embarrassment makes your chest hurt. You close the door in his face, not caring to hear another word. You feel gross; you dressed up all nice, put yourself out there just to get rejected.
Matt stayed outside of your apartment for 5 minutes, listening to you move around your apartment. Hearing you cry made him feel horrible, but he’s never done this before. He’s scared, so the best thing for him to do in his mind is give you space. As much as you need, and if you never talk to him again. He’ll understand.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
You get in the shower, washing off the sweat and makeup. Cold water hitting your skin sobering you up. You grab some ice cream and a spoon and sit in your bed, watching trashy reality TV shows. You look around your room at the decorations, the music, your clothing, and all you can think about is the fact that Matt wouldn’t enjoy this. Maybe you thought he enjoyed your loud clothes and crass personality, but he’s the exact opposite of you, and you need to accept that.
a/n: ahhhh hope you guys enjoyed hopefully I didn't leave you too sad. Please leave some love on the post <3 have a wonderful day bye byebye
more scienceteacher!matt x musicteacher!reader here
#fanfiction#downtown girl#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#girl blogger#matt sturniolo headcanon#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fluff#sturniolo triplets fanfiction#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo
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Ellie Williams X Fem!Reader Angsty, Cute, and Fluffy Prompt [WIP; Sneak-Peek]
• This is a very heavy WIP! Some elements may be changed quite drastically when I work upon this idea again;
• Takes place after the events of the second part of the game;
• Parts of instalment indicated utilising Roman Numerals;
• There will be more!
!TW(s): Mention of loss + death + guilt linked to it, implied suffering from depression, mention of theft/criminal activity, depiction of a dystopian atmosphere - if I’ve missed any, please feel to let me know; thank you!
Care for Each Other/Not Anymore
I.
It didn’t take Ellie long to decide she should leave Jackson again. What did she have left there, anyway? Sure, there were the remnants of a past life, including what she’d built alongside Tommy, Maria, and the others who’d decided to join them along the way, but now that she’d lost Joel, Dina, and Jesse, what was the point in fighting to keep what was gone alive anymore? All that was left was a memory - a singular memory, combining each moment she spent with each of them into a dark void of regret, and even heavier a portal for crushing guilt to ambush her the way it did, every night she lay in Wyoming, wondering where she should go next, now that so much of what had made up her own life had been burnt down to nothing, but a few ashes, and unashamed drops of tears separating them.
She had to try and harden her heart against all of what had taken place, and she decided to make further decisions as she packed up what she knew she’d need into the last rucksack she had left, the others she’d ever got her hands on just broken and worn mesh she kept under her bed in the makeshift town they’d all put together in Jackson, a few years ago now. She knew it wouldn’t be enough, eventually - of course she did; nothing lasted forever, that much had already been made clear to her, several times before now. She sighed gravely; the anger was still there - no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get rid of it. She only hoped she could try and dissolve it the further she ended up travelling, if ever she did end up going through with it.
That wasn’t to say she liked to engage in the thoughts of a doubtful mind. If anything, they only ended up frustrating her. She forced the last of her canned goods into the bag, before pressing herself up off of her bed, only to falter again when she noticed the guitar Joel gave her stood - lonely, and grim - in the corner of the room. Her eyes darkened a little, and she tried to ignore the emptiness she began to sport again, but she couldn’t forget it, rolling her eyes, before she walked a little half-heartedly and unsteadily toward the instrument. Though she knew it didn’t make her feel the way it did before - and was certainly hard to play, with two fingers less than what she’d had before - she couldn’t give up. Joel wouldn’t want her to.
In a way, neither would she, or Dina, but the excess thinking only added to the pain she tried to conceal all over again.
She carefully slung the guitar over her shoulder, the weight feeling only too familiar, and for a moment she was cursed to remember every word Joel had sung to her, a few years ago. She grunted, shaking her head subconsciously as if it would do anything to conceal her, but - again - there was nothing she herself could do to fix what had already been inflicted upon her. Maybe she’d come back one day - who knows? However, for now, she saw no other option, but to take her travels elsewhere again. She wouldn’t go too far, though, she speculated - if she was needed, then she could be close by, just-.. not here. Anywhere, but here again, at least until the near future.
Once she’d got outside, she whistled for the new Shimmer - a steed she’d managed to steal from the stables without recognition, given the WLF’s costing the loss of her old mare, as well - and her mare whinnied in response to her call, before tossing her head slightly, and then offering it for Ellie to stroke. Of course she couldn’t resist - whoever could, a creature so beautiful? She smiled softly - at least there were some things still light and warm in the world that had grown so much colder overtime. She pet her companion’s neck, before attaching her rucksack to the mare’s saddle. For a moment, she couldn’t help, but hesitate again, looking back in the direction of the city she missed, when it hadn’t been wounded by so many demons the way it had, before, so many unnecessary deaths it made her herself feel dead inside, to some extent.
She knew she shouldn’t dwell on it for too long, forcing a smile back up at Shimmer, before she climbed onto her steed’s saddle, unhitched her, and eased her with grave reluctance into a trot, back away heavily from the farmstead. She wondered if she’d regret it, eventually, and she guessed she had only herself to blame, when she found herself in almost completely new territory.
~~~~~
I hope you enjoyed it, and are looking forward to the dropping of the full version, coming at some point this Wednesday!
As always,
Your ever faithful, H.H. ❤️
#writing prompts#fanfiction#writing prompt#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams#ellie tlou2#tlou part 2#tlou game#lgbtq writing#lgbtq+#lgbtq#lgbtqia#love story#love confessions#gay love#love quotes#forbidden love#lovers#love#lesbian pride#lesbian#angsty prompts#angsty#angst with comfort#angst prompt#angst#cute prompts#cute#fluffy prompts#fluff prompts
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Sasha and Marcy thinking how to go about telling Anne they're a couple now but also wanting to clue her in that they want her too, stressing and going over ways to admit it. The inconclusive fears that she would feel too heartbroken or overwhelmed over it and they'd never win her over. Especially when the other two are very lovey-dovey with each other when they all hang out.
It all comes to a head one day when they invite her over for dinner. She's not there yet but they're both panicking at Sasha's place, trying to set the mood. Lights, decor, even the fucking food is as light as possible so that it might help their image of her. The pink hue of the living room is almost too bright but it sends a message well enough, they're just not sure if its sending the message they want to tell Anne.
A few knocks on the door snap them back to nervousness, she's here. They don't have much time to compose themselves again, sweat beading on their skin, their smiles held a bit too long on their faces. But Anne has something else to bring up at the table, clearing her throat as everyone sits down.
"Okay so uhm, I think I have an idea what this, is all about." She seems to fiddle with her purse, dashing as ever even when unsure how to continue with her words.
"First off, congrats on you two, y'know... Getting... Together and all that..." She seems to trail off, her stare now distant and out of it.
Sasha parses the discomfort, about to speak next but Anne fulfills that role.
"And you know, it's nice you want to invite me over to celebrate... Well, you two... I... Hmmm... I'm happy for you two really guys... I just... Well, I, I dunno..."
Uh oh. They clearly had a bit of explaining to do, but Anne is already stood up, excusing herself to the bathroom, powerwalking there.
Sasha stands up to grabs her arm, a bit too firmly maybe as Anne yelps in surprise.
"Annie! Anna-banana, hey! Wait, please... Let us explain... Please, that's, that's not entirely it, please listen to us..."
She seems to consider not listening to her friend's pleas, but relents eventually.
"Sashy... I'm, I'm sorry about everything bad I ever said about you... Fuck it, I might as well admit it in front of you two... That I, Anne Boonchuy, am such a fucking stupid bitch!" Her genuine frustration seems aimed at herself, Marcy can only offer a hug from behind as Sasha begins to gently cup her face, feeling the tears streak down.
"Now why would you, our bestest friend ever, and savior of Amphibia think she's a stupid bitch?" She coaxes, albeit gently. Soothing almost like she wants her to take her time.
After a bit of sniffling and making her the middle of an inpromptu cuddlepile, she speaks again. "It's obvious, well to me anyway. I'm a stupid bitch, because I'm in love with you two!" Ah. They don't know what to say, the tension somewhat relieved but now they have to approach telling her without making it seem like they're only saying what they want out of pity for her. "I know, I know! It's not normal but fuck that, this is what I really feel! I never wanted to ruin our friendship, not after everything but... I just... I really do love both of you, an-" "Ditto." Marcy manages to squeeze out, her throat a little dry and voice shaky from the crying.
"Huh? The fuck? Like the pokemon or, wait what? I'm voicing my heart out? Wait sorry, like what does that have to do with th-" Sasha interrupts. "Ditto. Like not the pokemon. She means the word in the dictionary, sorta means likewise. Or maybe 'same'. That kind of ditto. She was saying ditto in response to you, you saying you love both of us. And let me say it too. Ditto." The crying and wheezing abruptly dies down, only ragged panting from Anne as she sits down on the couch. They can't quite see her face given how she was just hunched over crying moments ago, but thankfully that's stopped. They do hear her say something despite the awkwardness of it all.
"Ditto, you fucking dorks." She even gives a little giggle, perhaps out of relief that she understands.
#zeth's ramblings#hc#headcanons#sasharcy#sashannarcy#sasha waybright#marcy wu#anne boonchuy#angsty#sorta#writing#fic idea
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