#I originally wanted something light and flirty
Note
could you do elijah with a catwoman type of reader? she likes the finer things, she's flirty/loves the chase, and whatever else you think fits! maybe they've been seeing each other secretly (like when katherine/elijah were doing it secretly in tvd lmao) OR they meet for the first time (e.g., she steals something from him and gets caught but gets away and she's hints at seeing him again next time) this is so specific but do whatever you want with it!!
cat and mouse | elijah mikaelson
author's note; this was so fun thank u for requesting <3
warnings: witch!female!reader, tension, abruptish ending bc I didn't know how to drag it out more, brief shapeshifting but I like barely touch on it, because it's sort of inconsequential to the story. reader is close with Klaus, but it's purely platonic! honestly could class this at love at first sight, with how I wrote elijah. fluff, just some heavy make outs, nothing too graphic. reader is flirty and confident!! no use of y/n!
There’s an inherent seductiveness to wearing a mask. It’s almost more vulnerable than just showing your face, because you have to rely on your words, your wit, to get the job done. Of course, there isn’t any specific job she’s needing to get done tonight, but she tries to never attend these sorts of things without a personal mission of some kind.
She gets bored, is the thing.
Even though she's got everything she could ever want and more, she gets bored and she can't help what happens after that. It's a bad habit, she knows. Her friends always laugh, hiding their smirks and smiles behind her hands when they come over and see the newest shiny thing that wasn't there before. When they hear of a shadow that terrorizes people, seemingly at random.
It's harmless, though. She's never hurt anyone by doing it. She just laughs a little and maybe she stays the night with some of them, and gets what she wants and more. Cures that boredom in a few different ways.
It’s started to creep in again, that feeling. It’s why she’s here in the first place. Klaus is a friend, but she tries to keep out of his hijinks for her own safety. Most people here in New Orleans know better than to pledge loyalty to the hybrid, because no one around him is safe for long, even his own family.
That’s the premise of tonight’s party, according to Klaus. Reuniting his family for what seems like the hundredth time. She feels it’s starting to lose its emotional impact, what with how many times he’s daggered and undaggered them, treating them like they’re pets or something. But she doesn’t voice any of this to Klaus, because she’s smarter than that, and she isn’t equipped to deal with the thousands of years of family drama between the Originals.
It seems odd to have a masquerade ball as a welcome home party, but she digresses. It’s pointless to question his motives, and it causes her more of a headache than anything. It’s easier to just enjoy herself, and even easier than that to try and find a cure to her boredom.
It's starting to settle in like a fog of some sort, except it's not hazy or particularly tiring, it's more like steam. Like a hot sauna, soaking the surface of her skin, leaving her panting, thirsty.
So she leaves the relative safety of the open bar, and lifts her chin up, keeping her shoulders in a stiff line so that people move for her, because she certainly won’t move for them.
She’s nearly through the dance floor when she’s stopped by a firm hand on her wrist, and her arm is extended with the light tug just before she twists around, braced to deal with whatever idiot has grabbed her.
She stops short at the sight of the man, only half of his face covered by a mask unlike hers that shields everything real about her except her eyes.
There’s a smirk on his lips, like he’s amused by something, but she can’t fathom what by. “Excuse me?” She raises a brow, incredulous expression hidden by the mask on her face. It’s rather flimsy, overall, but the rhinestones placed strategically around it juxtapose the sleek black dress draped over her frame, making her appear as nothing more than a shadow.
“You’re not leaving yet, are you?”
The voice is unfamiliar, and she loathes the thought that a stranger is teaching her with such familiarity. “I wasn’t aware it mattered,” She gestures vaguely with her other hand, reminding herself of the rather loose grip he has on her wrist. “The party will go on without me, I’m sure.”
The man ducks his head in a conceding nod, but the smirk on his face has done nothing but get bigger the longer she entertains this odd interaction. “You’ve hardly danced all night.”
She knows he can’t see the twist of curiosity on her face, but her body must portray it anyways, because he’s immediately elaborating.
“I’ve had my eye on you,” He says, accented voice a lulling drawl. She’s sure it would put anyone under a spell, given the chance. “I couldn’t let you leave without getting at least one dance, and perhaps your name.”
“Awfully presumptuous of you,” She notes, though she closes a bit of the distance between them, suddenly interested in the proposition. “I’ll give you a dance, but you’ll have to convince me for a name. I don’t give that out to strangers.”
He nods again, pulling her to him, closing the rest of the distance between them. “Of course,”
It’s easy to fall into step with him, practically painted against his chest, there’s no real rhythm to what they’re doing, but it’s working. She’s staring into his eyes from behind the shadowy mask, and he’s looking into hers, like he’ll get every answer he wants from them.
“So,” He starts, blinking slowly like he doesn’t want to spare a split second from them just in case he misses something. “Do you know anyone here, or are you just here by word of mouth?”
“I’m familiar with the host,” She says carefully, noticing the way his eyes darken with a hint of surprise. “He’s a friend. I do business with him, sometimes.”
He seems to see the deeper meaning behind her words. “I wasn’t aware he had many friends of your variety these days,”
“Oh, he doesn’t,” She says, smirking beneath the mask at the short chuckle that leaves him. “But I suppose there’s an exception to everything. It works for us. I’m still alive, after all. Not many can usually say that after dealing with him.”
The man’s mouth twists wryly. “I can’t disagree with that.”
“You’ve obviously got something in common with him, too,” She notes plainly, leveling the playing field between them about information they can peel out of each other without really saying anything. “Perhaps he has more friends than either of us are aware of.”
“He’s got plenty of secrets up his sleeves, I’m sure of that.”
He turns them suddenly, hand spanning across the open back of her dress, and she can’t stop the quiet gasp that spills from her lips, hopefully muffled by the mask, though the slight twitch of his fingers against the bare skin of her back says he heard it loud and clear.
“If I give you my name, may I have yours?” She asks suddenly, aware of the song playing for their dance coming to an end sooner, rather than later. “A fair trade.”
“I am nothing if not fair,”
She hums, though she partially doubts his words. He’s shown in the past few minutes that he can play any game she plays, just as easily.
They dip into the shadows for a moment, ducking out of the colorful lights flashing on the makeshift dance floor, and she makes a decision quickly.
She lays her hand flat against his chest, skating her nails along the pieces of his suit as she slides up his neck and to his jaw, moving fast to push the mask off his face as her other hand rips her own off.
She doesn’t give him time to blink, or get a real look at her face before she’s smashing their lips together, squeezing her eyes shut as he backs her further into the darkness. She twists them just before they hit the wall, relishing in the way his breath is knocked from his lungs. It doesn’t seem to bother him for long, because he’s drawing her back in, sighing against her lips like she’s just breathed life back into him.
She skirts her hands all around his lithe frame, feeling the muscles that tense under her touch, hidden but not unnoticeable by the lines of his tailored suit. She drags her nails up under his jacket, rustling the neatly tucked fabric, and pulls her lips away from his mouth to drop down to his jaw, flicking a sharp canine against his jaw and delighting in the choked off noise that breaks from his throat.
She hides her face in the curve of his throat, leaving marks that disappear almost immediately as she makes them. Panting for breath, she clenches her hands where they lay on his waist. “What’s your name?”
He licks his spit-swollen lips, head thrown back against the wall as he tries to collect what little of himself he’s got left. “Elijah,”
“Elijah,” She echoes, tongue curling prettily around the syllables of his name. “Elijah.”
“Yours,” He says, calloused fingers digging into the exposed skin from her dress. “What’s your name?”
“My name,” She says, pressing her lips to the shell of his ear, smile practically audible. “Is a secret.”
Before Elijah can even let out his next breath, every point of pleasure she’s got on him disappears, and he’s left feeling abruptly cold. He rips his eyes open, blinking as they adjust to the bleak lighting, and his chest heaves as he looks around for any piece of that mask, or that dress. Strains his ears to hear the breath of her voice, the pulse that drowned out every song playing.
She’s nowhere to be found. Elijah tries to be annoyed, but a smile grows on his lips and he can’t help but slump against the wall as he attempts to fix his suit where it’s been tugged at and wrinkled amidst their brief burst of passion.
A smear of lipstick lingers on his skin, and her intoxicating scent drifts in the natural breeze.
His curiosity is a dangerous thing.
──────
She sets out on a familiar path, forgoing her flesh tones and simpering smiles for four legs and a sleek black coat. She covers more ground like this, makes her way to the Quarter and past all of the usual mess happening. No one really looks twice at her in this form– it's how she prefers things, for the most part.
There's a specific brand of chaos that she's seeking, and she hears the familiar echo of the man's voice as she approaches the compound. If she could smirk like this, she would, but as it is, all she can do is reveal the two sharp fangs that hang down onto the sides of her mouth and pick up her pace ever so slightly.
The door to his study is open and she sees him pacing back and forth, talking loudly to no one in particular. She isn't sure if there's other people in the house right now, but it certainly wouldn't be the first time she caught Klaus talking to himself.
He seems to notice her just as she leaps onto his desk, shuffling the stack of stationary sitting atop it.
"Oh, good, and now you're here to bother me," He stops his pacing, turning to face the black cat sitting primly on the desk. "What is it you want?"
She stares blankly at him and he rolls his eyes, face set in that familiar glare that's basically tattooed on his features.
"I don't know why you bother with this," He gestures at her, rolling his eyes again. "The sooner you're in a form I can actually speak to, the sooner I can get you out of my house and back into the Quarter, wreaking havoc on those who have wronged me."
She can't help the sudden desire she has to irritate him just a bit more, so she bats a leg out and kicks a ceramic figurine off the edge of his desk, watching his fists clench at his sides frustratedly as it shatters.
Yawning dramatically, she flicks her tail out and perches on the edge of his desk, shaking off the sudden change in appearance as he glares at her, entirely unamused by the whole act.
"What do you want?"
She huffs, ever so dramatic, and pushes off his desk, walking around him to drape her arms over his shoulders and dig her chin into the muscles there.
"I'm bored, Klaus. And nobody likes it when I get bored."
He sighs, entirely put upon at her dramatics. "What do you suggest I do about that?"
"What's got you so tense? Maybe I can help with that, hm?" She tries, digging her nails into his skin through the fabric of his shirt.
"My generosity has come back to haunt me,"
His words earn an immediate laugh from her and she peels herself off of his back, walking across the study to throw herself down onto the couch, laying an arm over her eyes. "Oh, yes, your generosity, which you are so well known for. What have you done now?"
“Must everything be my fault? It could very well be someone else, you know,”
She lifts her arm from her face, giving him an entirely unamused look that he dutifully ignores.
“You know,” He starts again, earning a quiet groan from her that he ignores just as easily. “I undaggered my siblings because I thought they would be less upset with me after all this time. I threw them a party! I gave them access to as many humans as I could!”
“Oh, I know– how could anyone ever hold a grudge for being stuck in a box for hundreds of years because their brother didn’t want to have a moral compass?”
He glares at her and she pushes up from the couch, stretching her limbs as she goes. “How about you just let them be mad at you, and you give me the name of one of those people who have supposedly wronged you?”
Klaus sighs, but he gives in easily, just like she knew he would. It’s why they work so well together. He can’t resist her inherent desire to make a mess.
──────
The Quarter is as lively as ever, but the energy is always different when the sun goes down. She likes it better this way, when the tourists have returned to their hotel rooms, scared off by enough local legends that they don’t dare wander too far in fear of being sucked into some magical nightmare.
She likes when the nocturnal things come out to play, because it means there’s so much less attention on her, and what she’s doing. It makes it easier to get things done, this way.
She’s nursing a drink at the bar in Rousseau’s, unable to resist the draw this place has for witches and vampires alike. It’s mostly seen as a neutral ground, because no one’s willing to risk a place to get good food and drinks over a turf war.
She’s been making eyes at a boy across the room, quickly looking away when he catches her eye, hiding a bashful smile in her drink. It’s a fun game to play, and it grows easier with every passing minute to lure them in. Even if there’s something off about her, they can’t resist it. Like a mouse walking straight into a trap, just for a bite of the cheese.
It doesn’t take much longer for the boy, Ethan, to approach her. He’s got a smirk on his face, and he’s obviously under the impression that this is a sure thing.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but,” He shifts, setting his drink down on the bar next to hers. “I saw you looking at me from over here.”
She swirls the straw in her drink around a few times, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. “Is that all it took? Me looking at you?”
He chuckles, moving to stand more directly in front of her. “Well, you seemed a little lonely, sitting here all by yourself,”
She sits up in her seat, smirking. “Are you going to fix that for me?”
“That will be all, thank you, Ethan.” The strikingly familiar voice comes from behind her, and she instantly slumps in her seat, a wry, defeated smile twisting onto her lips despite how much she tries to stop it.
The boy in front of her straightens up, defensive at the sudden rejection, but as soon as he sees who it is standing behind her, he backs down. His eyes flicker to her, and she flutters her finger in a wave, dismissing him easily as the man quickly takes his place standing before her.
“That wasn’t very kind of you, Elijah,” She says, taking a sip of her drink. “I was doing business with him. Your brother’s business.”
“You were a very difficult woman to find, do you know that?”
She raises her glass to him in a mocking toast. “And yet here you are,”
“Is that what my brother considers business these days? Usually that sort of exchange was reserved for his closest confidants,”
“A good businessman is always adapting,” She shrugs, watching his eyes roam her face, committing every part of it to memory. “Did you find me for any particular reason, Elijah? Or am I just honored to have the company of an Original,”
“You stole my watch,” He says, looking anything but upset. “And a button, of all things. Now, the button I’m less worried about, but the watch is an antique.”
She hums, eyes narrowing at his easy going demeanor. “You spent all this time tracking me down over an antique watch? Forgive me for my assumptions, but I don’t believe that.”
He nods, still smiling fondly, like she hasn’t been almost entirely antagonistic to him since their first meeting. “I also want your name.”
“Surely you know my name by now,” She says, huffing a disbelieving laugh. “You couldn’t have found me otherwise.”
“I do,” He nods again. “But I want to hear it from you. A fair trade, and all.”
She heaves a sigh, pushing to her feet off the chair to stand before him, once again practically glued to the front of him. “A man of your word, I see,”
He hums an agreeing noise. “Even when we have nothing else, we have our word. I’m also not one to go back on a deal. I don’t like loose ends.”
“That’s a shame, I love loose ends,” She grins widely, earning a chuckle from him that says he’s nothing but charmed. “Follow me.”
She gestures towards the door, and Elijah is quick to fall into step behind her, though she isn’t sure if it’s her past disappearing act or something else that has him so keen to do as she says.
They step outside into the humid, but cooling air, and she glances up at the pale moon above them, feeling every bit of warmth from it that one would get from the sun.
“I’m curious to know how you found me,” She says, looking at him as he walks beside her down the mostly-empty sidewalks.
He sighs, pushing his hands into the pockets of his suit pants, looking every bit as pressed and pretty as he did at the party. “I thought about asking around at first, of course, but I figured if you wouldn’t even share your name with me, the second you caught wind of someone asking about you, you’d become harder to find.”
“Smart man,”
He hums, and smiles. “My brother, his girlfriend, is a witch. I asked her for a favor. You left your mask at the party, so,”
“Foiled by a simple tracking spell,” She says, putting on an air of defeat that has him chuckling, her following suit shortly after. “I appreciate your tenacity, Mr. Mikaelson. Not many want to play my games,”
“Is that what it was, then? A game?”
“Of sorts,” She says, coming to a stop at the steps that lead up to her little apartment. “It’d be quite bold of me to play a game of cat and mouse with an Original, don’t you think?”
He steps closer to her, eyes narrowing as he tilts his head, examining her. “I think that you seem to know quite a bit about me and my family, but I’ve just barely scratched the surface of you.”
She steps closer to him, the tips of her shoes hitting his. “I do owe you my name, don’t I?”
“A deal’s a deal,”
She echoes his words softly, already pressing up on her toes to meet him halfway. “A deal’s a deal.”
There’s much less fervor in this kiss than the last, but no lack of passion. It seems to strike them both breathless, and she finds herself leaning into him, wrapping a hand around the end of his neatly knotted tie to pull him in impossibly closer.
A split second later, she forces herself to pull away, sighing shakily as she looks into his lustful, deep gaze. She whispers her name quietly, watching his pupils blow out as it carries between them. He echoes it back, just as quietly, and she nods, hand still wrapped in his tie, where his are still clutching her waist, keeping her from running again.
“Is that all, then?” She asks, voice still a whisper, like she’s afraid to break whatever has settled between them. “A deal’s a deal.”
“What’s that you said earlier?” He sighs, chest heaving with the breath. “A businessman is always adapting.”
He pulls her back into him, catching the corner of her mouth with his lips before he realigns, barely parting for a second to press repeated kisses to her soft lips that taste like the sugary drink she’d had at the bar. “Besides,” He breathes in between kisses. “You still have my watch.”
She laughs into the next kiss, and it spills out into the night, making him let out his own laugh that sounds just as utterly besotted as hers.
He forgets about the watch. But by the time he remembers it, he figures there’s no harm in letting her keep it. If only to have an excuse to see her again.
#the originals#the vampire diaries#elijah mikaelson#elijah mikaelson x reader#elijah mikaelson x reader fluff#elijah mikaelson fluff#fluff#writing#fanfiction#the vampire diaries fanfiction#the originals fanfiction#klaus mikaelson#rebekah mikaelson#kol mikaelson
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Dropout Customization
Due to some questions about MC customization, I have decided to compile all the physical and personality aspects that are selectable about the Dropout.
A reminder that this is all subject to change and that new things may be added (or deleted). Feedback and ideas to further develop MC are encouraged.
Main Ideas
Name Surname Nickname
Sex, Gender, Pronouns (it's possible to customise them), Breast/Pecs, Penis/Vagina (If MC is transgender, their transition takes place while they're away) Title (Ms. / Mr. / Mx.)
Virginity or lack thereof.
If MC is trans (when they realized about it [high school, middle school, college] and if they told their family // the ROs already know, as MC told Uma and J, and word spread).
Birthday which establishes the Dropout's age as either 21 or 22 depending on the season (Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter)
Major (Engineering, Biology, Chemistry, Computer science, Law, Economics, Education (in relation to science/maths/etc), Mathematics, Physics, Psychology). The Dropout's Major affects flavor text. These options are the ones approved by the Dropout's parents, though it's possible for MC to express interest in other degrees/topics (music, art, English, anthropology, archeology, classical studies, history).
Reason behind dropping out (MC got kicked out (they were caught cheating) MC didn't get a high enough GPA and dropped out / MC never even wanted to go to college and ultimately decided they wanted out / MC didn't fit in (they were discriminated, lonely, etc) though they really liked college / MC originally liked their degree and college but gradually lost interest in the entire thing / MC never liked their degree and decided to drop out / Something specifically related to mental health (mainly anxiety) / Impostor's syndrome.) This affects flavor text.
2 Coping Mechanisms (Alcohol, Tobacco, Drugs, Sleeping around, Avoidance, Overspending, Humor, *Hobby (overworking self) [Anger, Fake/forced happiness, Sadness, Indifference].) Each coping mechanism opens a variable and a storyline. You can choose two, though choosing one related to emotional responses [between brackets] automatically blocks out the others.
2 Hobbies (Singing, playing an instrument, songwriting, creative writing, drawing, sketching, sculpting, acting, photography, soccer, football, swimming, basketball, gymnastics, boxing, judo, karate, taekwondo, kickboxing, going to the gym, cooking/baking, dancing [ballet, contemporary dance, modern], yoga.) This affects flavor text and scenes.
Job (Bartender [Wanda, Statler is also around often], Cashier [Statler], Columnist [J (+Kai if poly)], Caregiver [Kai], Waiter/Waitress [Uma (+Travis if poly)], Tutor [Travis]) Each job gives you more time with a certain RO, as well as unlocking a storyline.
Personality Stats
Playful/Serious
Honest/Dishonest
Friendly/Rude
Introverted/Extroverted
Laid-back/Uptight
Cynical/Idealistic
Flirty/Reserved
Family oriented/Individualistic
Others: Insomnia, Migraines
Physical Appearance
*It's possible to choose MC's appearance as a high schooler as well. This affects flavor text.
Height (very tall, talk, average, short, very short)
Skin tone (ebony, dark brown, light brown, russet, golden, olive, honey, tawny, tanned, fair, rosy, ivory.) Choosing any skin tone gives you the possibility of choosing to be a poc (idea I stole from Mila, @beyondthegame)
*Build (scrawny, skinny, lithe, lean, muscular, chubby, curvy, hourglass).
*Hair color (max 3 tones, 1 base and other 2) (possible to return home with a mess of dye for Maude to fix. NATURAL (Ashen blonde, Sunflower blonde, Strawberry blonde, Caramel, Honey brown, Chocolate brown, Copper, Auburn, Ruby red, Midnight brown, Jet black, Ebony black) NON-NATURAL (Pink, Violet, Lilac, Blue jade, Vermilion red, Snowy white, Silver, Emerald green, Canary yellow, Bleached).
Hair texture (kinky, very coiled, coiled, curly, wavy, slightly wavy, straight)
*Hair length (ear-length, chin-length, shoulder-length, below shoulder-length, chest-length, waist-length)
*Hair style (SHORT/MEDIUM: natural, side-parted, mullet, layered, bob, ponytail, twin ponytails, buzz fade, slick back, messy, wolf cut, bun. LONG: natural, high/low ponytail, messy, shaggy, California waves, a half updo, side-swept, bun, braid, twin braids, twin ponytails).
*Eye color (albino red, dark blue, light blue, dark green, light green, hazel, amber, chestnut brown, chocolate brown, black, grey).
Others
*It's possible to choose MC's appearance as a high schooler as well. This affects flavor text.
*Glasses (yes, no, contacts)
*Facial hair (No/shaved. Stubble, full beard, goatee, ducktail,van dyke, garibaldi, mustache, soul patch, light beard).
Scars, can choose as many as possible (Back, chest, abdomen, upper and lower arm, thigh, knees, calf, mouth area, neck, cheek, hands, eye area, shoulder)
*Tattoos (One big in X body area, patch-like bodysuit, bodysuit, one/two sleeves, just legs, a few tattoos all over, a small in X place).
*Piercings (Ears [helix, lobe, industrial], navel, tongue, nose ring and septum, eyebrow, lips, smiley, nipples, genital)
Dimples
Braces
Freckles (face, body, both)
Beauty mark, multiple (under eye, over lip, neck, body)
*Outfit/Style (streetwear, alternative, cute, preppy, casual, formal, business casual, dark academia, messy, boho/eclectic, comfortable)
*Bedroom, at family home and at new apartment (messy, colorful, emo, basic, boho, modern, industrial, vintage, minimalist, cute)
*Diet (vegan, vegetarian, pescetarian, keto, meat-eater, lactose intolerant)
Family pet (small/large dog, cat, fish tank, hamster/rabbit/guinea pig, cockatiel/parrot/canaries)
Characters
Closeness to all family members (tight-knit, close, so-so, cold, barely any relationship)
Same with the friend group
Crush on Statler during high school (yes/no)
'Popularity' during high school and college (popular, social butterfly [got along with many people but wasn't part of the popular groups], normal, loner, outcast [somewhat antagonistic in a way/rebel].)
#dropout if#dropout#cog wip#cog#choice script#hosted games#interactive fiction wip#interactive fiction#mc#gameplay
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truth or dare 🌙 // george daniel x reader
a/n: this is based on a few requests and also loosely a sequel to first time and midnight, car lights. so the ages are 18 and 20! i tried to make this as realistic as possible so it's not perhaps the hottest thing ever but it's weirdly sweet haha
cw: brother's best friend, loss of virginity, smut in general, fingering. they talk :)) so much :)), the use of "good girl", female reader
wc: 6.3k
the room is buzzing with energy. loud and boisterous sounds of people having fun and whooping along to a silly game of truth or dare. matty already has his tongue down someone’s throat—as a “dare” of course. you cringe internally.
it’s one thing to sit and play a game of truth or dare with your brother’s friends and potentially spill embarrassing secrets, it’s another to sit there and watch your brother practically dry hump some girl you’ve never seen before.
and then there’s andrew who keeps looking at you like he wants them to do the same.
you stifle the urge to retch.
“alright, alright,” ross puts his hands up, “we get it, let’s move on.”
matty and the girl pull away amidst boyish whoops and giggles. the girl hides her mouth behind her hand, coy and flirty, and matty, ever the little shit, throws her a wink.
“okay, okay, right. good luck to whoever who has to sleep near matty’s bedroom tonight,” one of the people jokes and another roar of laughter goes up. great, yeah, fucking hilarious. because once again, that would be you.
“next up!” andrew picks up the bottle, wiggling it at the crowd of people and building up excitement.
it spins and spins and spins in dizzying circles and for a moment you wonder if it will ever stop or slow down. it’s a silly thought. of course, the bottle slows dows, going past you once before losing some more momentum, then past you again and you breathe a sigh of relief. not you…
until somehow, the bottle gets second wind, spinning way past what it should have been able to, its nozzle coming closer and closer and closer before it stops right on you.
when the next cheer goes up, it sounds like it’s coming from under water.
you look aroud at the faces of the people gathered. the growing sense of dread climbs up your spine, manifests in visible goosebumps that you resist rubbing away. fuck this, fuck your brother and fuck his friends.
matty is utterly useless when you glance at him for any kind of help. all he does is grin mischievously, clearly relishing the idea of you being at the center of attention. next to him, george sits with an unreadable expression. but you know looking at him is not a good idea…
looking at him only makes you think about the kiss and how you have not spoken since…
andrew, who had spun the bottle, wears a sly smile, his eyes still fixed on you. you know him well enough to understand that he's been angling for this moment. the rest of your brother's friends exchange knowing glances, anticipating some juicy revelation or an embarrassing dare;.
ross, trying to keep the game moving, speaks up, "alright, truth or dare?"
you briefly consider choosing dare, thinking you might be able to dodge a potentially embarrassing truth. but you know these guys—they're relentless when it comes to dares, especially when it's your turn. besides, you don't give a shit if you appear cowardly in front of them.
taking a deep breath, you muster some courage. "truth."
a couple boos ring out. matty makes an exaggerated “pfft” and goes back to his makeout. george just stares at you with a raised eyebrow.
but there’s one person in the room whose attention doesn’t waver. andrew still has that persistent look in his eyes, clearly brainstorming something devious.
“your most interesting sex story. go,” he grins, staring at you with the utmost interest.
you roll your eyes and groan audibly. “really, andrew? couldn’t think of something original?”
“yes, really,” he counters, sounding like a fucking knobhead. “and i wanna know. the rules are the rules.”
you look around the room, trying not to panic. everyone has gone from looking bored at you picking truth to back to looking at you with wide eyes. and no amount of trying stops the heat from creeping up your neck.
“i don’t–it’s not interesting,” you stammer out. trying to make up something on the spot. “they’ve been pretty basic. just regular stuff.”
you hope it’s enough for them to lose interest again, to call you boring and vanilla and move on to the next person. but fuck andrew and fuck his lecherous curiosity.
“what’s ‘pretty basic’?” he pokes a tongue in his cheek, eating up the subsequent oooohs with a big smile.
you look around the room, first at matty only to find that he and the girl are already halfway out the door, heading up to his room (gag). then you look at the next best person.
george. stoic george with his arms crossed in front of his chest, glaring at andrew as if he could kill him with his stare alone.
“your usual stuff, andrew…” you grit out, staring at a spot behind him. you should have just stopped this, should have told him that truth entails one question and one question only and it’s none of his business but you’ve always let matty’s friends strong arm you.
“so describe it, little healy—”
“don’t call her that.”
to your surprise, it’s george who speaks up before you do. his entire body vibrates with tension, jaw clenched and arms taut.
“move on, andrew,” his voice has an edge of warning. “she clearly doesn’t want to discuss it.”
you stare at him in awe, about to nod as a silent thank you when george stares directly at you. “besides, why do you want to know something so boring and vanilla?”
the people snicker and you feel your face drop. his tone is not cruel, it’s just matter of fact which somehow hurts more. a faint buzzing fills your ears, increasing by the second.
this is too much. you need peace and quiet and the comfort of your own room, not this stupid party with all these idiots. you should have never agreed to it.
the bottle spins again, you do not wait to see who it lands on. instead, you do the cowardly thing of running up to your bedroom.
“the last time i checked, the game was called truth or dare,” george drawls behind you just as you’re about to open the door to your bedroom.
you barely even wait for him, rolling your eyes to yourself and opening the door in a huff. he’s just like the rest of them—an idiot. an idiot you were stupid enough to kiss and have a crush on.
of course, george doesn’t back away too easily.
pushing his way into your room behind you, he closes the door, acting as if this is his space. deja vu hits you like a tonne of bricks.
“it’s none of their business,” you retort.
“shoulda picked dare then…”
“and what? make out with andrew? you and i both know that’s what he was hoping for.”
the serious expression on his face crumbles for a moment, replaced by an annoying little smirk.
“character development, little healy,” he teases, once again crossing his arms in front of him and leaning against the door.
you don’t know how you always end up like this—george in your room without anyone’s knowledge, looking like the boy of your dreams while you fume at him for one thing or the other.
“shut up,” you mumble petulantly.
george doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead choosing to look around him nonchalantly. all you can replay in your head is the kiss, and his stupid little smile after. and then the fact that he seemed to vanish into thin air for two weeks.
you can't help but feel a mixture of irritation and curiosity. he's always been a puzzle to you—maddeningly frustrating yet undeniably intriguing and despite your attempts to resist his charm, there's a part of you that can't help but be drawn to him.
you decide to break the tense silence that has settled between you two. "what are you even doing here, george?" you demand, your voice laced with annoyance.
frustratingly enough, he chooses to answer it with a question of his own.
“why is sex such a touchy topic?” george toys with his bracelet, “you’re only 18. most people your age haven’t done it yet.”
“you’re joking, right?” you laugh, unable to hide your incredulity. “and what does it matter to you if i have or haven’t done it.”
“it doesn’t,” he shrugs, “not to me. but clearly it matters to you… wouldn’t have been so defensive otherwise.”
“i wasn’t defensive—”
“shup up, george,” he says in a high pitched voice, a crude imitation of you presumably. and it is nothing what you sound like. yet he continues. “i have seen photos, george, i have seen videos!” then he shakes his head, one irresistible lock of hair falling in his face. “isn’t that what you said last time? about the weed?”
“it bothers you, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” he continues when you refuse to speak. “why not ask someone. you’re a pretty girl. any boy your age would say yes.”
“so you do it then,” you challenge. it’s only when the sentence has fully slipped out, beyond your control, that you realise what you just said. it’s only then that your heart starts hammering in your chest.
your back is pressed against the wall of your room. faint music and chatter slips in through the cracks of the door and yet you swear you can hear the loud beat of your heat echoing all around the room. george stills in place.
“i’m asking you; since you think i have such a problem with being a virgin,” you continue. no point backing out now, no point pretending you didn’t offer to let him fuck you. for the first time. “it’s long overdue anyway. i don’t want candles and flowers and a picnic under the stars. i just want to get it over with.”
“don’t say things you don’t mean, little healy.” his voice has gone hoarse as if it strains him to speak normally. you watch as he swallows roughly, the hollow of his throat becomes prominent for a brief moment and you wonder what it would feel like to get a taste of his skin.
“who says i didn’t mean it,” you push yourself off the wall, taking one daring step closer. george stays where he is, still looking at you intently, still watching. his lips part as he tries to subtly take in a shaky breath.
“your brother—”
“doesn’t care,” you finish for him. “someone else has his attention tonight.”
“this is so wrong…”
“why?”
george scrutinises you, rolling his tongue in his mouth. you follow the line of it, wondering how it would feel in your mouth—its weight and its texture. how it would feel on your body, to be touched like that for the first time.
“why is it wrong, george? i am old enough. i want this, i am consenting to it.” george stands straighter as you stop right in front of him.
to an untrained eye, he looks casual and cool as always, effortlessly carrying all 6’4 inches of him, effortlessly beautiful and irresistible. but the vein standing taut on his arm says otherwise. he’s anything but cool and casual. if anything, he’s as charged as a live wire.
“unless you don’t… unless that’s not something…”
“stop.”
it’s your turn to freeze and gawk up at him wordlessly. george closes the gap between you, stepping towards you until you’re back in your original place; against the wall with his hand resting next to your head. his mouth is so close as he leans down—pink and full and just…filthy.
“you have no idea… you don’t–fuck. okay.” he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily. his face is a mask of something. almost something you recognise. but it passes just as quickly as it appears.
“you have never done this before, any of it, have you? you couldn’t even look people in the eye while saying it, bushing and flustered like a schoolgirl.”
“i have!” you burst out, indignant and angry now. “i have done…things. i have kissed and made out with people, i have…people have seen me without a top on.”
george laughs roughly at that and swallows again. the hollow of his throat appears again, right there, tauntingly close. all you have to do is get on your tip toes and you’ll be kissing it. but then there’s the way his other arm snakes around your waist.
you are pressed flush against the wall with barely an inch between the two of you. and even though he still hasn’t touched you, if anyone walked in on you in this position…
“so you haven’t done shit. tell me something…have you ever been touched like you touch yourself? have you ever had an orgasm that wasn’t self-induced? someone ever go down on you? make you see stars and blackout?”
the questions come out like rapid fire; each one making your blood run faster and your heart pound all over your body. heat courses through you. it’s undeniable that you want him to do all those things to you, want him to be the first.
by the time he’s finished, his mouth is parted. his pupils are so dilated that his eyes might as well be black and you can feel the warmth of his breaths on your face. so you decide to take matters into your own hands, say fuck it and pull him down, crashing your mouth onto his.
both his hands are on your waist instantly, holding you tightly as his mouth moves against yours. it’s rough and hot, full of want. his body is pressed against yours, his hard chest and the bulge in his jeans against the softness of your body. this is so much different than the first kiss. it’s all hardness and intensity and hot searing kisses.
you’re vaguely aware of jumping onto him and wrapping your legs around his middle, vaguely aware of george moving across the room and placing you on the bed.
george barely breaks the kiss when he takes his top off, warm skin pressed against yours. your head spins.
this is happening. this is happening with george. with GEORGE.
there’s a part of you that wants to run around the room and hyperventilate. another part of you—the much bigger one—decides to be bold again, copying his moments as you take your top off too, silently thanking the patron gods of teenage sex that you chose to wear a good bra.
“you really…” he pants, struggling to catch his breath for a second. “you really want this? with me?”
your hair sticks to his jaw a you pull back slightly, just enough to be able to speak.
“i do, i—” a rough swallow, “i want you.”
“okay then,” he leans forward again, then stops, trying to fight off the massive smile making its way onto his face. you didn’t think there would be something to find endearing in the middle of a one night stand. yet here you are, fighting a big goofy smile of your own.
“show me what you do,” george sits at the end of your bed, watching you with hooded eyes. his chest glistens with sweat—so does yours, you imagine—making his tattoos stand out in the warm light of your bedroom. “when you touch yourself, how do you do it.”
heat creeps up your cheeks at the prospect of being entirely naked and vulnerable in front of him. shyness floods your body making you avert your gaze and bite your lip nervously. not that you don’t trust him enough, but you don’t want to be ogled at so blatantly.
“uh–um, i don’t–that’s…” it’s frustrating that you can’t even get a proper sentence out, stuttering and stammering like a fucking child but george clocks it instantly.
“what is it?” this time his voice is gentle, curious. “is it too much? do you want to stop—”
“no! no, i just…” you keep your eyes averted building the courage to tell him exactly what you want. there’s no denying the fact that george makes you nervous; he always has but you have to remind yourself what he said—practically drilled into you—at the beginning.
you are in control of everything. all of it.
“i don’t want to be stared at, that–that’s too much.”
his features soften as realisation dawns on him. you wonder if you’ve put him off—sex should go both ways, after all. what’s the point if only one of you enjoys yourself?
“right then…” silently, george moves from the foot of the bed to right next to you.
the movement makes the bed dip and your breath quivers in anticipation the closer he comes. is he going to put a stop to it? break it to you gently that he’s not interested anymore. maybe you should have sucked it up and done what he told you to do, he’s the one with more experience after all…
“what are you…”
he settles himself right next to you, legs spread open just wide enough for—
“come here,” he instructs and pats the space in front of him. “how about you show me some other way. guide my hand, if that’s okay.”
for a moment, the idea stuns you. of course you knew what sex entailed but it’s just…it’s so much happening all at once. so much that requires being vulnerable.
but you trust george. so you nod and do as he’s told you.
you close your eyes once you settle yourself between his legs, fully immersing yourself in the feeling of him all around you—his cologne and cigarettes and the hint of sweat that’s somehow the most perfect combination ever. your hand is so much smaller on top of his, guiding him down starting just at your navel. his other hand is on your breasts, kneading and rolling your nipples between his fingers expertly.
george doesn’t need you to guide him, judging by the gasps and moans that he draws out of you, you know he can make you feel good either way. but this is more for you than him, more so you would feel in control, and that adds to the thrill of it all the more.
“does this feel good, sweetheart? is this okay?” his voice is all around you, skittering over your bones and sending a shiver down your spine. all you can do is nod and whimper. all you want to do is guide his hand further down.
george lets you.
the callouses on the pad of his fingers leave electric tingles in their wake as they brush your pelvis. a gasp echoes around the room, sharp and sudden.
“that’s it,” he coaxes, “show me how you like it.”
his fingers graze the inside of your thighs and right above the waistband of your underwear, leaving goosebumps wherever they trail.
“take these off me?” you breathe out into the stillness of your room. he takes no time in obliging—hooking a finger in them and lifting your hips off the bed to slide the delicate fabric down your thighs and past your knees until they’re discarded somewhere on the floor with the rest of your clothes. this is it, you, here, fully naked and at his mercy.
“better?” he asks.
you nod, leaning your head back onto his collarbone. george nips at your skin, making you giggle and loosening some of the tension filling your body. his fingers hover over your clit, waiting for you to show him what you want.
“fuck, george,” you breathe as soon as you feel his touch—it’s just the right pressure, the right pace as he circles your clit. your hand falls slack, back arching off his chest lightly as you bite your lips to stifle a loud moan.
this is nothing like you’ve felt before, nothing like your own hands make you feel. this is like tiny fireworks right under your skin.
“shit, that–that feels so good.”
george hums behind you, keeping up with the pace you set. his fingers dip between your folds, teasing and inching towards your opening—keeping you on edge. the sheets are bunched between your fingers, sweaty back pressed to his chest. george nibbles at your neck, right over your pulse point as his fingers play with your nipples; stimulating, sending jolts through your whole body.
“so wet,” he breathes, peppering kisses down your shoulder. his finger circles your entrance, rough and thicker than your own, better than you’re used to. “so perfect for me.”
it’s enough for you to cry out—whine really. because you want him, need to feel him. but he’s taking his own sweet time.
“what was that for, huh? needy little thing,” he taunts, “what do you want?”
between the words and his gruff voice, all thoughts fly out of your head for a second. he hasn’t even properly fucked you yet and your head is already starting to feel like mush.
“you, please,” you all but beg, “want your fingers in me, please george…”
“think you’re ready to take it?”
nodding nervously, you spread your legs wider. your hand reaches back, caressing the nape of neck, scratching it in slow sensual circles. hearing him groan is enough to calm your nerves. sure, the effect you have on him is minuscule compared to what he’s doing to you, but it’s a small victory regardless.
george falters for a brief moment, head thrown back as you feel the spike in his heartbeat. it makes your own skip a beat. but he recovers quickly, teasing your folds a bit more, finger circling your entrance.
“tell me to stop if it’s too much, okay?”
your stomach churns from a mix of anxiety and excitement—this is happening, this is really happening. george tuts when you nod on auto-pilot.
“need you to say it, love. use your words.”
“y–yes, yes, i will.”
“good girl,” he whispers, lips pressed to the shell of your ear.
before you even have the time to react to that, he slides a finger in, just the tip first. he goes slow, takes just enough time to gague your reaction.
it’s a strange sensation—a good sensation. his finger is noticeably thicker than yours, and longer, the pad of it scratches against your insides, making you gasp. george stops once he’s all in.
“good?”
“fuck–yes!”
all you need to do is give him that little nudge before he pulling the finger out again, and thrusting it in, this time faster, rougher. your insides feel like liquid, melting further and further with each graze of his callouses, with each thrust, and oh the rhythm…
you knew he would know how to set a pace but somehow he gets it right on the first try, going just slow enough to give your body time to adjust but fast enough for a familiar knot to build in your stomach. his thumb presses against your clit each time.
“oh my god–oh god…” you can’t remember the last time you’ve chanted it so thoroughly, reciting it like a prayer and chasing your high.
“need to add another finger, sweetheart. need to stretch you out, that okay?”
his voice makes you jolt. it’s all around you, deep and scratchy and almost a growl—teeming with lust. of course it is, you can feel his hard on pressed against the small of your back, can feel the way his heart is thumping in his chest. you can hear his audible swallows and groans each time you dig your nails into his thighs, every time you grind against him when the pleasure becomes too much.
“mm-hmm,” you nod vigorously, “yes… need more…”
it’s frankly a surprise that you still have the ability to speak because every single part of your body feels like it’s melting, blood zapping through your body, pushing your heart into overdrive.
this time when george thrusts in, it’s with two fingers. you cry out at the sudden stretch, the burn that accompanies it. george falters when you jolt forward.
“shit–shit did i hurt you?”
hurt??
“no, i—” it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts, and to take the whiney edge off your voice. “that felt good… better than before. keep going, please, just—”
george doesn’t let you finish, pushing his fingers inside you again. the hilt of his palm crashes against your clit, rougher than before and your body trembles from all of it.
“such a perfect girl, taking me so well.” his words add to the heady intoxication.
your head spins, completely blanking out on anything else. all that matters right now is george and his hands and his voice. his lips latch onto your neck, sucking on your sweet spot and peppering kissing and this time the buzzing that fills your ears is nothing like before.
now as your legs shake and spasm, you know you’re close.
“gonna cum, george, fuck…keep going…” it’s a whine, you don’t know where it just came from but now is not the time to care about that.
his fingers keep moving in and out, plunging into you, drawing out wet and obscene sounds until you feel them hooking inside you, without warning. when george parts his fingers inside you, stretching you more, it’s enough to push you over the edge.
with a cry, you slump against him, gushing onto his hand, incapable of doing anything else as waves of pleasure crash onto you, blinding you almost. this has never happened before… never. not with your own hand, or the tiny white bullet in your drawer. something about his body makes your blood sing.
facing george after that feels like a daunting task. he did just witness you completely falling apart on his hand and who knows what kinds of sounds you made in the heat of the moment…
a flush creeps up your face when george turns you around.
“fuck…” he breathes, panting, his heavy breaths mixing with yours. “that was so hot, fuck!”
for a second you don’t know what to say so you sit there, trying not to nervously bite on your lip, averting his eyes. because that was just the foreplay… the main part is yet to come.
“did you enjoy that?” he asks tentatively. another second ticks by before you feel a hand under your chin, tilting it up.
“sweetheart…” george begins. his eyes are soft—blown out and hooded with lust, sure, but somewhere in there, there’s a tenderness you haven’t seen before. “do you want to stop? it’s alright, if that’s all you want to do tonight. i promise…”
you contemplate it. you want him, you want his closeness and you want his body and if sex feels anything like what you just felt then you absolutely can’t wait for it.
“i want to keep going,” you reply.
this time, george leans forward, hand still on your chin, holding it in place as he goes in for a kiss. something soft and sweet. a stolen moment of leisure amidst all the burning passion and hormone filled lust.
“are you in your head?” he asks after a minute.
you know the answer is yes. it shouldn’t be this difficult, he has done nothing to make you feel uncomfortable. on the contrary, you have never felt so safe with another boy.
“i think so…yeah. i just, i don’t know how to stop overthinking it.”
he contemplates it for a long time, at least it feels like a long time. you’re aware of the wetness between your legs, of the little fire in your stomach that still hasn’t gone out. you’re aware of how hard he is and yet how he hasn’t even talked about himself yet.
“can i touch you?”
it’s an unsure question; your voice sounds small to your ears but there’s an undertone of curiosity. his eyes widen.
george nods, moving to take off his brief. when he’s done, george settles on his knees, now fully naked.
your breath catches in your throat. it’s not like you haven’t seen a dick before. you’ve watched porn. the first guy who made out with you and got to third base had you feel him over his jeans. and although it was more unsettling than it was fascinating, it was a new experience.
but watching george is a mesmerising thing. he’s not shy about his body, if anything, his bold confidence makes him hotter than any other boy you’ve ever known.
“please.” he breathes in deeply, trying to stay still as your hand inches between his thighs.
he’s big, at least to you he is, thick and hard. george groans loudly when you trace his length with a finger, running it along his red tip that already leaks with precum. the sound is throaty, almost a growl. so this is what a man looks like when he’s fighting to stay in control.
his eyes are closed, a string of curses falling from his lips as you wrap a hand around the base of his cock, moving it tentatively—slow strokes from the base to his tip and back again. his body shudders, the hollow of his throat moves.
“i’m gonna cum if you keep doing that, love.” his voice is a throaty whisper, his nails dig into the flesh of his thighs even as he so clearly struggles not to thrust his hips into your hand.
it’s the small, impulsive movement that fills you up with some confidence. a tiny thrill of pride shoots through you, thoroughly pleased at the way his body responds to your touch. some of the tension in your body dissipates.
“well, isn’t that the goal here? to make you cum?”
george clicks his tongue, “not before you. tonight is about you. my pleasure is just a byproduct.”
george moves before you have the time to respond, grabbing his jeans from the foot of the bed to look for his wallet. and there, inside, as expected is a small, silver square.
“you ready for it?”
“yes,” you say and this time, there’s not a hint of doubt in it. “yes i am.”
george tears the foil with his teeth, spitting it out to one side and taking the condom out. you watch unabashedly as he rolls onto his dick. his fingers work deftly—practiced, sure movements; small things that make you aware once again of how inexperienced you are.
but that’s about to change.
his mouth is back on yours, hand back between your legs, drawing rough eight figures on your clit. you barely even registers as george lays you down on your back. all you can focus on are his fingers dipping in and out of you once again, quick and expert thrusts that have you on the edge again in no time.
“lift your hips for me, love. just like that.” his voice is soft, his eyes are softer. there’s a tenderness to his face that you’ve never seen before; a stillness that’s gentle and comforting.
poised on top of you, you can feel his tip brushing against your entrance. nerves flood your body as you do what he’s asked.
“george…” it surprises you how shaky your voice sounds. for all your bravado before, your mouth feels dry. “please just…go slow, please.”
he pauses for a moment and you marvel at his self-control once again. he could so easily just chase his orgasm somewhere else, fuck someone else at the party. yet here he is, pausing every two minutes to make sure you’re alright and enjoying yourself.
he cups your face, gently running a thumb along your lower lip.
“i will. as slow as you want.”
his hand is back between your legs, teasing and brushing against your clit, melting your moans into small bursts of ecstasy. his fingers keep moving, building up pleasure again, bringing you closer and closer to the edge until a second orgasm hits you.
as you writhe under george, trying to ride out your high by grinding against his hand, he kisses you again, tongue licking the inside of your mouth, teeth clashing against teeth.
“tell me if you want me to stop,” he pants. his voice is strained. you imagine he’s being pushed to his limits.
“yes, just–just do it, i am ready.”
lining himself against your entrance, george pushes in. the first few seconds are completely normal. he moves slowly, sticking to your limits and pressing small kisses on your face. the stretch you feel is fine, exactly how it was when you were riding his fingers. a moans slips out, full of lust. and that’s when the burn starts.
tears well up on your bottom lashline the more he pushes in. you feel too full, more than you ever have, too stretched out.
“are you in?” your voice quivers and george pauses.
“not yet, sweetheart. but almost.”
another nod from you and he moves again, the burn intensifies, turning your moans of pleasure into whimpers of pain until george bottoms out and stills in place.
“you okay? does it hurt?” his voice is hushed, words coming out rapidly as he tries to make sure everything is alright. despite everything, the concern in his voice melts your heart.
“hurts a little. can you just–just stay still for a bit?”
he nods again. george lowers his forehead, resting it onto yours. the moments stands suspended in time. by the time, the burn subsides, you’re kissing again—slow and sweet, fingers intertwined.
“okay,” you nod into the crook of his neck, “okay you can move.”
the stinging is back when he starts moving back and forth. he’s going as slow as possible, you know it, yet it takes you body a bit longer to adjust, for sparks of pleasure to come through between the pain.
when you open your eyes, you find him already looking at you, a soft pink flush visible on his cheeks. to your surprise george averts his eyes quickly.
“i–uh,” he stammers a little, “i’m–um, i’m not gonna last long.” the last part is whispered, like a shameful confession. “you’re really tight and–fuck! fuck, baby it feels so good…”
“george,” you interrupt before he has the chance to keep going. he thrusts in again just then, a bit harder than before. this time, the pleasure is much stronger than the pain. all thoughts fly out the window momentarily, but you cradle his face in your hands. brush your fingers on his cheek.
“you’re already making me feel so good. shit, george, don’t apologise. just–you can go a bit harder if you want.” another gasp gets struck in your throat, another little broken moan.
george moves faster, hips bucking, slamming into yours lightly. the friction, the stretch, all of it is better than you could have ever imagined. you couldn’t care less how long he lasts. it’s your body that makes him go crazy, you that’s currently making him losing it. that thought alone is enough to send bolts of lightning all throughout your body.
feeling a little bold, you do the thing you’ve only watched girls in porn do. you wrap your legs around his waist and it’s like something clicks in place. suddenly he’s sliding in much deeper than he was before, hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes your mind go blank and your jaw go slack.
“fuck fuck fuck,” george curses. his pace increases. whatever control he had on himself has finally snapped, whatever leash he had kept on himself, finally gone.
maybe your eyes roll back in pleasure, maybe your legs tighten around his waist, the only thing you remember is clenching around him, telling him over and over again how good it feels.
“so good for me, baby, so perfect,” he coos, hand snaking down between your joined bodies. he finds your clit again, swollen and wet and so sensative, it’s like a thunderstorm just under the surface of your skin.
“gonna cum, sweetheart,” george grunts out. “cum with me, can you do that? hmm?”
you nod, or you think you do. all you remember is grinding on his pelvis and mewling when he flicks your clit. it’s the sound that gets to him, that pushes him over the edge. when his orgasm hits, you feel him twitch inside you. somewhere in the haze, a third orgasm washes over you.
you watch him mesmerised, desperately trying to keep your eyes open, to memorise the look of pure bliss on his face as he fucks into you, riding out his orgasm, letting you ride out yours. his thrusts slow down, eventually coming to a stop.
george doesn’t pull out instantly, instead, he collapses on top of you, breathing hard, panting into your neck. your sweaty bodies stick to each other, still locked in together.
it takes him a minute to gather himself. a minute until he can say, “gonna pull out okay? it might hurt.”
it does a little but the tingles in your body take over and all you feel is a slight sting.
“that was—” you start and stop again, completely at a loss for words.
“yeah?” he laughs a little, lying next to you and pulling you into his chest.
he’s warm and a bit sticky but this is nice, you think, the way his body envelopes yours entirely.
“was i good?”
he hums. “you were perfect.”
the butterflies in your stomach intensify. perfect. it’s nice to hear that word. especially nice to hear it from him.
"you might be a bit sore tomorrow," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "but don't worry, sweetheart. i'll stay and take care of you."
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#the next fic you get from me will be promptober unless inspiration strikes unexpectedly lol#the 1975#george daniel#george daniel x reader#george daniel x you#george daniel smut#bbf!george#brother's best friend#george x reader#george x you#matty healy#ross macdonald#adam hann#the 1975 smut#the 1975 fic#minors do not interact#smut writing#smut#the 1975 fanfic
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Jealous kitty.
Bonus!(Brainrot)
Donna Beneviento x Reader (MC)
"I will be working with Cassandra on her.."
She doesn't listen after that static fill her head, you are leaving her. This Is her chance her route why Cassandra is always ruining it.
"You're going to leave me for Cassandra?" She can't help te venom in her voice, you are leaving her for her flirty, dramatic, excentric (adopted) niece. If it was Bela or Daniela she could at least understand the blonde was a softy behind her cold exterior and the red head was sunshine incarnate. But Cassandra?
"I don't going to leave you I'm just gonna be in Cassandra's play" You remark not made her fell better at all" For three months and one week approximately. The Romeo original is going to be better by that time. I still want to work with you, I just need to change the schedule for that.
She can't do nothing to stop the hurt that she feels, she was here first, she asked you to work with her first! how can you go to someone else so easily?.
"if is not okay with you, I-"
"Ok" her jaw is tight trying to bite the word before saying it" Okay, you need a more flexible schedule I can do that, It will be just for few months and you will come back to me " She can adjust both of your schedules to ensure she is in the theater when you were rehearsing because she refuses to let you alone with Cassandra, she knows how her niece can be.
She looks at you and her anger subsidy when in your face in your eyes all she can see is softness and care.
"I will always come back to you"
God, how much she wishes for that to be true.
She knows that next few months will be difficult for you, she knows that you need all the rest you can get but she is angry for your choices. It doesn't help that the play is Romeo ad Juliet, every single touch, hug and flirt put her in the edge of throwing her tool box at Cassandra's head.
"When I said left I meant my left, move it again" she was being petty but every single time her eyes closed the image of you with Cassandra tormented her so she decided to torment you "Good job, now these two" She ignored your pleading face.
-------—-------------------------------------
Everything was perfect, you were hers. At least for this timeline.
She knows that she is being clingy but she can't help herself, kissing you, touching you just being close to you make her the happiest woman in the world. And you let her! You don't get mad or annoyed with her, you don't mind her behavior at all you indulge her!.
You brought light to her world she can't lose you if you were gone she doesn't know what she would do. She prays for Forgetfulness in the next loop she doesn't wish to remember this happiness she doesn't wish to know what being yours mean, it will be too much pain for her to bear it.
She was the first to notice how some of her clients will sneak looks at you, how they would blush when you handed their order, how they would giggle like idiots outside the shop pointing at you oblivious self.
Troie.
When you finally noticed, you try to let them down gently some understood, others will come back bought something and flirt with you like she wasn't there.
Puttana. Vaffanculo, tutti.
"Sweetheart this can't go on" of course this can't go on, these bitches need to back the fuck out. "We need to maintain a professional image in the shop, that mean no kisses in front, no stealing me away to the nursery when I'm working and no picking fights with the clients, okay?" WHAT.
You are joking right? This is a bad joke right?. No. You are serious.
She pout and put her best puppy eyes. She can see how close you are to bending to her wishes but in the end you stand firm.
"Dear, sooner or later the glamour will fade way but the reputation of your shop will be damaged. We need to be professionals about this." Why did you had to be like this?
"Ok" CAZZO.
Your lunch break became make up break. But it seems not matter how many hickies she leaves in you, they still keep trying to take you away from her.
Of course she sees when that Figlia di puttana give you some paper, you take a look just to roll your eyes and quickly throw it in the trash, she was curious to know what exactly was so she picked up.
A number.
This. Is. Enough. She walked back to the nursery, less she throw a pot at the next woman that flirt with you, avoiding you every time she go out. When you grabbed her hand she easily go away just saying:
"We must keep a professional image in the shop, remember?" the look in your face made her smile.
You wanted her to play nice, she will play nice. You were about to know what Malicious compliance mean.
------—--------------------------------------
Avoiding you for almost week, was hard for her but it's all part of her plan. She can feel your eyes on her every time she is with you in the front.
Did she bend a little more that necessary? Yes.
Did she put more sway on her hips when walking? Yes.
Did she can feel the hunger and desire in your stare? Yes.
Did she enjoyed it? Absolutely.
Now the final details for her plan.
"Hi aunty! Did you are still messing with my roomie?
"I'm not messing with them, I'm doing exactly what they asked me, now can I ask you for a favor?"
"You betcha! What do you need?
" A friend of yours and your thieving skills"
The day has come, Five minutes before five o'clock she put the kettle her phone buzzed.
"We are outside!"
Perfect. She goes to the front, ignoring the sad look in your face. "Why dont you take a break I made some chamomile tea"
You nod, and she knows that you would come back quickly, not willing to leave her alone for more that a few minutes knowing how hard is for her to deal with people.
She almost feel bad about what is going to happen.
Almost.
Angie friend comes to her.
"My friend said that you would reject me I said that at least I should try so what do you say pretty girl, go out with me?" your stare was burning with jealousy and she don't even try to hide how pleased she was with that
"Well I have been a little neglected" she was being mean and she was enjoying it. "but is a no, sorry"
" Oh well I try it" the sigh that she let go was more of relief than disappointment the poor girl was perfectly aware of the murder in your eyes.
"Professional image, dolcezza" it's all she said before going back to the nursery. Riling you up was so fun.
You were fuming all the time you were working. Not even your so called fans were willing to talk to you for more than two minutes. At the end of the day you looked at her with fire in your eyes that made her so restless but she will no be the one to admit defeat.
"Do you mind if I walk you home?"
"It will be my pleasure, Tesoro" the smirk in her face just made you more angry.
The walk was silent one.
At the steps of her family home you looked at her, putting her best innocent face she looked back at you.
*Just a little more*
She took a step to you and patted your shoulder with a hand full of dirt, because she needs your shirt dirty for the next part of her plan and because she deserves to be a little shit. You blinked at her audacity.
"See you tomorrow, dolcezza" smiling she opened the door. One, two, three.
She was being hosted over your shoulder it seems that the adrenaline and anger was giving you strength, closing the door with your leg you make your way to her room, opening the door aggressively and throwing her in the bed.
"Why are you being so rough" She was pouting but she knows you can see the mischievous shine in her eyes.
Without answering her question you kiss her with all the hunger you had been keeping inside. Freeing her hair out of her bun, you tore her shirt open, kissing her free skin soft sighs escaped of her mouth transforming in a whine when you bite her clothed breast while taking off her pants, she raise her hips her patience had been running low since you put that stupid rule.
You move away with fascination and adoration in your face how easy is for you to made a mess of her, she is panting trying to catch the breath that you stole, tears in her eyes for the pain of your bite and she knows her underwear is ruined already.
She is so needy and she is not afraid of admit it.
"Beautiful"
Your praise never fail to make her blush, she is so embarrassed and so flattered.
She knows that you are still mad when you grab her legs rougly moving her to the border of the bed, quickly you kneel devouring like a starving beast.
-----------—---------------------------------
She loves this.
You in her arms sleeping so calm so comfortable. Your naked body pressing close to her your back and shoulders were full of scratches that she touches softly.
Maybe she was a little rough too. But considering that her legs feel numb and she is sure she is full of bite marks is fair to say this is a tie.
You are hers and she is yours.
She glances at the clock in her dresser. Well, she is the owner she can open a little more late is not like is the first time she has done it.
She just wants to enjoy this a little longer.
Later an alarm goes off, waking both of you.
Moving slowly you hiss "My love did you have to scratch the hell out of me?"
"Depends, did you have to fuck me into the mattress?" Not that she is complaining as is what she wanted, she needed your unshackled desire. And how much she enjoys feeling you so deep in her.
You blush but the proud smile in your face give away your satisfaction. "You could have cut your nails if this is what you were planning"
Oh this is not over yet. "I have been busy".
She tries to hide her smile when you asked her for clothes.
"Donna, sweetheart, darling, dear, you don't expect me to walk around like this" you gesture at your body full of marks that the tank top can't hide.
She shamelessly ogle you God, if she doesn't knew that you need to present your exam she would be all over you, under you, beside you.
When she became a pervert? Oh you were waiting her answer.
"I'm sorry cara mia Is all I have" she said with the most sincere tone she can muster. She hid all the other clothes obviously. She don't want her efforts to waste.
You sigh.
"You are going to be late, dolcezza" this time she can't hide her smirk.
Cursing you give her a quick kiss and run to the school.
She walks calmly to her flowershop. Her legs aren't numb anymore but she is still tired. Even so she feels like she Is walking in clouds.
The smug smile she gives to your fans when they see the marks that you left in her neck can't be stopped by her shyness.
Oh how much she enjoy the envy in their eyes.
She is yours, you are hers.
Her phone is buzzing taking it out she reads the message that her beloved niece have sent her.
"🤢"
"Sorry Bambina, I guessing you saw them? "
"🤮"
"Did you did what i asked you?"
"Yes, Daniela is outside and today is not her laundry day. Now excuse me I need to bleach my brain."
--------–——--------------------------------
When you came back every single client had a particular reaction to you appearance. You have been laughed, scoffed and nodded.
" Ah, problems with a misbehaving kitty?" Well she would have behaved if her partner stopped being so charming. "here this cream work wonders for that injuries"
She is laughing freely in the nursery she was having a blast with all this.
"Thank you, sir" she bets you're so red right now.
"Is nothing dear, I remember when I was younger my beloved Jerry was a jealous and clingy kitty, always wanting to be with me, practically throwing himself at me, fighting with whoever took my attention away" oh? "it was a problem when I had to work, he don't liked being alone that much so I made sure to let him know every night that how much I loved him and that I would never leave his side." OH
That is not a bad idea. God, she is really a pervert.
"Hey what is taking you so much! We're going to be late!" it seems that the kitty never stopped being clingy" Hurry up!
The man in front with you just laughed.
"See, so clingy" She walked silently to you side" Make sure to show your kitten love continously less they want to scratch you up" Good advice but she makes no promises, the man looked at her " Ah, young love " she blushes but smile" I'm coming Jerry!"
" Wisdom of your elders never should be wasted" you flinched, she giggles at your reaction " you should treat your Kitten right.
"I'm gonna start by putting a damn bell on you" you said before grabbing her by her waist.
"What about the Professional image, dolcezza?" She had gotten her way again.
"To hell with it" you kissed her" I need to take good care of my sweet, clingy and jealous kitty.
She was putting a show but the look of the few fans that refuse to take the hint was worth it.
She noticed the crow outside and she kissed you more aggressively.
She would enjoy her time with you. Because now you were hers but the next time it wasn't safe to say you would come back to her.
It will be too much if she sent a video to Miranda?
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Isekai Bartender!Reader
(Characters): Diluc, Kaeya, and Venti
(A/n): I was watching bar rescue and seeing a guy yell at bar owners who almost killed people in their community with food poisoning inspired me to write this (and seeing how drinks are made ig)
———————————— ☆ ————————————
Diluc
You went decided to hit up Angel’s share for a few drinks, this man looked at you in utter confusion when you when you asked for an old fashioned
You tried asking for a whiskey sour no clue, maybe something simple so you asked for a martini, still nothing
After being told he had no idea what those drinks were you decided to teach him how to make some drinks
Though it’s difficult with not having ingredients that would be used in the recipe, but you tried to find ingredients that are the could substitute for the original missing ingredient
After Diluc put the new drinks in the menu there’s a sudden influx of customers wanting to try the new drinks.
To keep up with the new patrons he hires you to work at the bar with him
Doesn’t admit it but he enjoys working with you and gets a bit jealous whenever Kaeya flirts with you
———————————— ☆ ————————————
Kaeya
Loves watching you behind the bar
It fascinates him to see you throw the bottle into the air and catch it, your bartender tricks are truly amazing
Watching your graceful movements is a lot more entertaining than nearly starting a bar fight with Diluc
In his opinion it’s way better to watch your graceful movements than Diluc’s constant scowl
Not to mention your infectious smile and personality has him wanting to stay until your shift is over
Usually Kaeya goes to Angel’s Share to drink his worries away or gather some intel on a person of interest, but interacting with you has replaced the former
He definitely flirts with you a lot, it’s not just his personality is very flirty that’s not the reason. He just enjoys seeing your flustered expression (and when he tries to talk to you he it slowly goes to him flirting unintentionally)
And to add to the fact that your drinks are downright divine
———————————— ☆ ————————————
Venti
Like Kaeya, he loves watching you make drinks
To him, he would compare your light movements to a dandelion seed flowing in the wind
Loves your personality and does everything he can to make you smile. Whether it be him show off his skills in playing in lyre or annoy Diluc, much to his dismay
The two of you talk a lot during your shift mainly to get to know you better (and to see if he has a chance at being with you)
Definitely has made songs about you and your drinks in an attempt to impress you
If you hum songs while working he would ask you to tell him the name of the song, if he’s cheeky enough or drunk enough he’ll pester you to sing it to him in its entirety and will bug you sing him more songs whenever he’s there.
He says it’s to give him inspiration for new ballads, but if he’s being honest he just admires hearing your voice and when you sing he feels like he he ascended to Celestia
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin isekai#diluc x reader#kaeya x reader#venti x reader
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When Night Come- three
Summary: Who would win in a staring contest? New York’s resident mob boss and master of the side eye Bucky Barnes or the daycare teacher who really wants to go home and smoke?
pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader
warnings: cursing, Jessica being Jessica (we love and hate her)
word count: 3.5k
two | masterlist
Tag list; @vickie5446 @cakesandtom @buckybarnessimpp @hidden-treasures21 @unaxv @mal-adaptive-dreams @elizacusi-blog
disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest
For the most part, the week had gone by smoothly. Only minor behavioral issues with the kids at work and even fewer tantrums from their parents. Bucky hadn’t made an appearance at pick up but that was to be expected since he rarely had in the past. However, a part of her wanted him to. Sunny may have told Jessica that she wanted nothing to do with Mr. Sexy but after going through the texts between him and who he thought was her, a part of her wanted him to talk to her the way he had in those messages. His charm was undeniable, after all, he was known as the flirt of Brooklyn but knowing those messages were meant for her and she only stirred something in her even if she didn’t want to admit it. In the past she would’ve dropped everything for a man like him, giving into him the first time he’d asked her out for dinner but with time and horrible experiences, she’d built a resistance to that part of her. Still, it egged her on, leading her to indulge in short-lived daydreams of what could be. One thing stood in the back of her mind throughout the week though; how high had she been to convince herself that she’d seen a fang when Peter was talking or only feel cold when Bucky touched her? Yelena kept her distracted though from overthinking it all.
She thought it was hilarious that she had gotten the wrong message even if she didn’t know what her original message should have been. The conversations between the two girls were less flirty and more casual, like a friendship with hidden feelings was developing. The attraction was there for both of them but Sunny guessed that Yelena knew about her date with Bucky so Yelena had chosen to back off. Admirable, yes but only one of them could ultimately continue to date her and her rational side, begging the romantic to let it be Yelena, the drop-dead gorgeous woman who could make her laugh at the stupidest things.
Jessica, sweet Jessica is no help either as she’s caught up with Peter once again, having gotten sucked into his hurricane of a personality. Having asked Sunny to keep an eye on her and make sure she didn’t fall back into his hands, she’d practically pleaded with her more sensible friend to go out for dinner to take her mind off of it. The rather fancy restaurant is not the place two women should be talking about the size of an ex’s dick but alas Jessica did so without a second care and a glass of merlot in her hand.
“It’s definitely a grower but he acts like it’s 10 inches or some shit which wouldn’t even fit in reality,” the woman who passes by the table on her way to the bathroom makes a horrified gasp when she hears the crude words.
“It’s honestly so embarrassing, more for him than me because homeboy acts like a real fucking Chad.”
“Jess keep your voice down,” Sunny tells her, snickering from behind her own wine glass, “You’re going to get us kicked out.”
“They can all get fucked, I’m in pain and in need of some expensive sushi and wine to ease my agony.”
“Spoken like a true woman of class,” Sunny says, setting her glass back on the table, “But let’s be real here; are you going to let him back in or are you done with him for good now?”
Jessica shrugs slightly, the chandelier’s light bouncing off the chain strap of her top, “I want to but something keeps pulling me back in and no it’s not his dick. There’s a Peter that I can’t get to but I know he’s there, a version of him that’s not such a douchebag.”
“Are we sure that’s even possible or is this wishful thinking?”
“I know, I know, I don’t have great taste in men and we both already know how terrible he can be but I’m telling you Sun, he can be such a sweet guy.”
Sunny half-heartedly hums partly because she’s overhearing about Peter and because the sushi she’s eating is just that good she forgot her train of thought. If hearing about him means more of this divine sushi, then she’s glad to sit and be the wall that Jessica tells all of her troubles.
“Earth to Sunny,” Jessica waves her hand in front of her face, “Did you hear what I said?”
“Shit no, I’m sorry. I got distracted by my food, what did you say?”
She gives her a skeptical look before glancing over her shoulder, “Don’t make it obvious but look behind you. Is that who I think it is?”
“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” she asks as she’s getting ready to turn around but Jessica stops her with a hand on hers.
“Never mind, I think they’re going to walk past us, and don’t freak out, I’m serious.”
“What? Why would I…” the words die on her tongue when that damned cologne and honeyed voice waltz past their table with a woman wrapped around his form. The woman, who’s wearing a very low-cut dress, makes a show out of gently hitting Bucky’s chest as she laughs obnoxiously at something he no doubt whispered in his ear. He’s, of course, wearing that dazzling smile anyone would want to see every time they go to sleep and wake up. Whether or not he sees either woman is a mystery because he makes no attempt to say hi or even stop as he leads his date past their table. While they’re seemingly having a grand time, Sunny’s heart drops at the scene before her as her eyes dart to a very pissed-off Jessica. Something about the whole scene feels with her unease but she brushes it off as anger and maybe jealousy.
“Please tell me I’m going blind because I didn't just see that,” she scoffs, still holding tightly onto her friend’s hand, “At least have some decorum if you’re going to parade around with gold diggers, Jesus Christ. Oh my god, Sun I’m so sorry.”
“No no, it’s uh….” her words are dying again as she blinks rapidly trying to come back to reality, “It’s fine. We’re not together or anything, we haven’t even gone out yet so it’s not like… it’s not like we’re exclusive. He can… ya know.”
Jessica grips her hand tighter to draw her attention to her, “Say the word and I’ll fight a bitch.”
“It’s whatever, seriously,” she offers a sad smile, “Let’s just forget about it. Please.”
“Of course,” she removes her hand and goes back to eating while ranting about her boy problems.
Meanwhile, the hole that Sunny feels doesn’t shrink no matter how much wine or sushi she consumes. No amount of Tinder profiles shoved into her face can erase the sight of Bucky flirting so openly with that woman. She tries to convince herself that she shouldn’t care because like she said herself, they are not together. He does not owe her exclusivity no matter how pretty his words are. They haven’t even gone on their date yet so again, she has no reason to feel the green rage of jealousy or the blue wave of insecurity that threatens to crash over her but she still does. The romantic in her is crying over broken Valentine’s Day hearts with her makeup smeared while the logic in her is rolling her eyes and setting fire to whatever feelings she has left for Bucky.
She quietly excuses herself to go to the bathroom which unfortunately requires her to pass by the table he’s at with that woman and another person she can’t see. Against her better judgment, she looks. She looks at that table and makes the briefest of eye contact with the man she wants to burn the world for and because of. However, when she does catch his blue eyes, they are devoid of any emotion and she tells herself that it’s because he didn’t recognize her rather than the alternative as she fumbles to close and lock the bathroom door. Her hands tremble as she grips her phone with white knuckles, back to the cold metal door. It buzzes, startling her and she drops it with a gasp as her heart tries to pound out of her ribcage and into her throat.
“U good?” - Jessica
“Jesus, get ahold of yourself,” she whispers to herself. Bending down to pick up her phone, she contemplates her choices regarding their date; the romantic is screaming for her to just go out with him and forget all about it. Once again her logic kicks in and she’s typing before she even realizes it.
“Can’t make it Friday. Sorry.”
Another truly aggravating laugh rings through Bucky’s ears when his phone vibrates in his pants pocket. Aside from the fact that he can’t stand to be around Lycan in general, this woman is the prime example of why he hates them. Steve flashes a very forced smile at whatever the woman said, trying his hardest to not ruin the deal that’s almost closed. The woman is completely oblivious, or at least pretends to not care about both men’s frustration with her, and continues to make jokes at the wait staff’s expense. Bucky pulls his phone out, giving Steve a silent signal to continue the conversation if this can even be considered one. Upon reading the fatal message, his jaw muscle feathers to not lose his cool even more. Years of practicing his self-control in other areas have led him to be able to starve off the allure of allowing the other side of him to make an appearance. Rather than damage the already fragile relationship, he doesn’t respond right away and instead messages Yelena.
Yelena’s habit of getting on his nerves is growing out of hand however she’s irreplaceable and Steve might actually kill him if anything happened to her. She is, after all, the little sister to one of their close friends, and her sister made it very clear that if anything bad happened to her, there would be hell to pay. Even so, having her tail Sunny gave her that much more ammo when it came to teasing him, and adding in the fact that she, too, was interested in her made things even more frustrating but what’s a little friendly competition?
The unbearable woman at the table seemed to think that any woman within a fifty-foot radius of the table is a threat to whatever sick daydream she has concocted where she has a chance with Bucky. The way she belittles the poor server and makes lewd comments about other people in the restaurant is enough to make both Steve and Bucky want to rip her throat out even if it might kill them. Regardless they still have a business deal to close even if their skin is crawling while doing so.
Bucky slips his phone back into his pants and leans back in the booth, “Juliette, I need that name you promised.”
“Awe Baby, I thought we were having fun! Why’d you have to go and ruin it with business talk?” she says whilst trying to sneak her hand over his knee.
Steve clears his throat loudly, disrupting whatever foul plan she had, “I believe we agreed that this meeting is strictly professional. Give us the name and we’ll see what we can offer in exchange.”
“Now that isn’t going to work for me,” she rolls her shoulders back, dramatically pushing out her chest, “I need reassurance that nothing is going to happen to me if I rat out my boss.”
“That depends on if we get the name we’re looking for. You’re a smart girl, you know how these things work.”
She rolls her eyes at his words before letting out a considerable sigh, “Her name is Alix, with an I, Wright. She’s the big boss out of California you’re looking for and if I were you two, I would give her what she wants. She’s the type of person you want working with you, not against you.”
“And what is it that she wants?”
She snorts like the dog she is, “I’m not telling you that until you tell me what I get out of this.”
“A ticket out of the country.”
“Not good enough.”
“Europe?”
“Only if this man here,” her hand finds Bucky’s knee again, “can come with me.”
“No. What does Alix want?” He can’t hide his contempt now as he pushes her hand off roughly.
“Fine,” her eyes flash gold for a second, returning to their usual green in moments, “She’s looking for a Y/N L/N. Rumor has it she’s an ex and she wants her back but that’s all I know. There’s a photo floating around but I haven’t seen it.”
“Can you get it?”
“I could but I’m not going to. I like being alive so I’m not going to risk it any more than I already have.”
“You should be more concerned about the people in this room. Get us the photo and you’ll get your plane ticket.”
“No no no. That’s not what we agreed on. You got your name and now I get my ticket. The photo wasn’t a part of the agreement,” she tries to reason with the mob bosses in front of her who are looking at her as if she’s a part of the menu.
“Things change and we need the photo as well so get it to us and we can discuss your ticket,” Bucky says as he and Steve stand up, “Don’t call until you have it. My time is valuable so don’t waste it.”
With that, they exit the restaurant and leave the woman fuming at the table, disgusting pheromones from her anger rolling off of her.
Bucky’s nose wrinkles at the smell that has no doubt clung to his clothes as he pulls out his phone the moment they settle into the car. Steve briefly glances over at him, “Want to tell me what happened back there?”
He doesn’t answer right away, too engrossed in whatever is on his phone. It takes Steve calling his name a few times as they pull away from the curb to get his attention.
“What changed in the restaurant?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I highly doubt that.”
A moment passes.
Bucky’s phone vibrates again in his lap and yet another crestfallen look takes over his face.
“I didn’t know she was going to be there. She saw us with Juliette and canceled our date tomorrow night.”
“And?”
“And Yelena just confirmed that she’s actually Y/N L/N.”
“Ah, I see. That does complicate things,” he says whilst checking his mirrors before merging into a new lane, “Look, we both know how dangerous Alix Wright can be but we’ll do what we can to protect Sunny, Y/N, or whatever she chooses to go by. As for your canceled date, I think you owe her some flowers and an explanation.”
“Yeah, Yelena already lectured me about it.”
“Are you going to?”
Upon not hearing a response, he glances over and sees that Bucky has his phone to his ear with an annoyed look.
“Not answering your call?”
His answer; is a short groan when the voicemail answers again instead of the woman. Against his better judgment, the slight desperation kicks in as he remembers the almost kiss they had at Yelena’s party. The thought of having blown his one shot to get to know her controls him as he texts her. Even if she leaves him on read, it’s still something, anything to prove that she might give him a second chance. However, he isn’t so lucky as she continues to ignore his calls and leaves his texts on delivered. His only lifeline to her is Yelena and she has the perfect opportunity to sweep her off of her feet. Well, he does have another person but Jessica is very adamant in her dislike for him as is evident in her texts to him.
“Jess being helpful?” Steve asks.
“Not in the slightest,” he drops his phone down, “And the worst part is that I know where she lives but I can’t just send shit over without it giving off…”
“Stalker vibes,” Steve finishes his sentence for him, “You’d think after two centuries you’d get better at courting people.”
“Yeah well, shit does change over time so it’s not like I can just show up with flowers and not have her worry for her safety.”
“Have you thought about it how it’s all going to work? She’s human so eventually she’s going to notice something is up when you don’t eat or age.”
“That’s assuming she’ll give me the time of day after this,” his nose wrinkled in disgust again when the Lycan’s smell fills the air once more, “Jesus I’m going to have to burn this suit. She must have scented me.”
“You think? She was all over you,” Steve coughs out, rolling down the windows so they can finally stop inhaling the traitorous air.
“Oh my god, he won’t leave you alone! He just keeps calling and texting and then calling again. It’s soooo annoying,” Jessica sighs as she tosses the phone off to the side and hugs Sunny closer to her side of the couch.
She doesn’t say anything, only hiding her face a little more into Jessica’s side while half-watching whatever stupid movie was on. Negative thoughts and questions consume her as she second-guesses everything. Was he actually flirting with her? Did she misread the texts? Was he really trying to kiss her at the party? When he said she was beautiful, was that him or her imagination filling in the gaps? Why the fuck didn’t she remember feeling the heat of his body when he was holding her? Her friend’s nails tapping away at a phone screen brings her consciousness forward through the storm of emotions inside.
“What are you saying?”
“Oh, ya know ‘fuck off, leave her alone,’ that kind of stuff.”
“What is HE saying?”
“The usual bullshit about how you need to talk and he needs to explain but take it from me, it’s all a bunch of lies to just gaslight you into forgiving and forgetting. Don’t fall for it, Sun, no matter how good his dick is.”
Scoffing she pulls away from Jessica and curls up into the corner of the couch, hugging her arms and a blanket around her. Her phone appears in her peripheral but she just shakes her head, “I don’t want it.”
“Can I keep messing with him then?”
“No just leave it. We still have to see him and I don’t want it to be too awkward.”
“That ship sailed when he decided to be a player…”
Sunny cut her off, “Please, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
She may not be able to see the intense roll eye of Jessica’s but she can certainly feel it when the tension starts to bubble under their skin, threatening to be released at any moment. Sure they are good friends and they had been for almost as long as Sunny had been in New York but Jessica didn’t know the first thing about her old life or who she really was, the world she came from. Being around so many painfully naïve humans did drain her from time to time but it was refreshing given the alternative. The thought of even being in the presence of a Lycan again made her stomach churn and her skin crawl. The unsettling feeling she felt at the restaurant suddenly makes sense; that woman had been a Lycan and dread fills her body at the idea that Lycan was in New York still AND Bucky seemed to be a little too friendly with one. Something spurs her to start questioning Jessica without any forethought, “Jess does Peter have sharp teeth?”
“Girl, what the fuck kind of question is that?”
She pushes herself out of the corner just enough to look at her friend squarely, “Are Peter’s canines sharp?”
“Umm,” Jessica’s voice is full of confusion as she shifts in her spot, “Yeah but aren’t everyone's?”
“But were they sharper than they should be?”
“I don’t know. Why are you asking me?”
“Never mind, forget about it,” with defeat, she drops back into her corner albeit Jessica is still confused about her abrupt and strange line of questions.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just ask me that and order us some ice cream. The usual?”
#mob!bucky#mob!bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes and reader#bucky barns x reader#mob!bucky barnes imagine#mob au#marvel imagine#marvel fanfiction#winter soilder#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier imagine#when night comes - bucky barnes#when night comes bucky barnes#vampire au#vampire bucky barnes#vampire!bucky
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Hi there! I want to make a request about the version of the original Vash x Fem! Reader. Someone who is a Femme Fatale and very flirty with Vash, making him shiver.
Hello! I know you probably wanted this in a one shot format but I'm here to deliver some in-depth headcanons instead. Hope you don't mind!
FATALITY TO HIS HEART --- Vash the stampede
SUMMARY: Headcanons of Vash and a Femme Fatal that has him wrapped around her finger tip.
⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝
Pretty women are Vash's main target, but he loves to flirt with whoever he can get his hands on. This time it happened to be you. He met you in the city of December in the saloon just at the start of town. You're an outlaw yourself much like him, but when he walked in you were surrounded by men, bounty hunters, and lawmen alike. Each was jumping at the offer to buy you a drink. You were fed up with the constant shrinking of your personal bubble even though you flirted to your hearts content. None of it meant anything really. That's when you watched Vash stroll in. At that very moment you locked eyes and slid off your barstool to stroll over to him.
Vash was so lost when you strolled up to him acting all lovey dovey. That was until you hinted at wanting to leave. You waved goodbye to the men inside and left out the door with your arm hooked around Vash's. The moment you stepped outside you started thanking him profusely, even offering a payment of sorts. If he kept you away from those men you'd keep him fed. That was your deal. He happily accepted but he didn't expect what would come next.
You weren't lying when you said you would keep him fed. Every night you were with him he ate a good hearty meal. Of course that didn't save you from Vash's flirting and wandering hands. You didn't deny him that though, you played into it quite enjoying the attention he was giving you. Even more so than the other people. While he would just play you up, talking about how hot you are and how you deserve someone strong and handsome like him, you one up him.
"Keep playing this tamd and you'll get burned." You warned him. Vash didn't listen though and he kept going and poking until the reaction he got was beyond something he was ready for. In a single stroke, the buttons of his coat had been entirely undone and his back was pressed against the wall. He shivered while you eyes him up, a devilish grin on your lips. Vash was so shocked that he didn't know what to do. He was stuck just staring back at you in shock.
Since then, anytime your fingers got anywhere close to him his skin would grow intensely hot and he would shudder. Any time your hands would cup his face he would flush a bright red and melt in your touch.
You were like nothing he had ever felt before just your touch alone would light him on fire. When the time came for him to move to the next City he couldn't bring himself to leave you. Even after he left the city he camped outside for days debating whether or not he should go back in and get you. You found him yourself. he woke easily, your touch feeling foreign to him at first. Once he saw it was you he swooned. His hands reached up to cup your face while he spoke a mantra to revel in your beauty. Just like that you pulled him right back under your spell. Even with his brother and saving the world being important to him you suddenly jumped to the top of his list.
Vash is known to be a captain-save-a-hoe, so when you got into your first gunfight with him he kept you shielded behind him. You pushed past him and shit every single one of their weapons from their hands in a heartbeat. Seeing you could handle yourself just fine was even better for Vash. Not only were you attractive and more but you were a force to be reckoned with. Of course your abilities would never reach his to the fullest extent but you were close. He admired you for that.
When the girls found you traveling with him, Meryl tried to warn you of who he was and what he brought with him. You didn't listen, you already knew who he was to begin with. When you walked into this, you knew exactly what you were getting into. Even then you accepted him for who he was and even threatened Meryl in front of him. "This is an affront to his personality, don't you ever refer to him in that manner in front of me again or so help me god I'll hang you by your toes and drain the blood from your nose."
Time and time again you've disarmed Vash without ever having to make any big moves and he admired you so much for that. Everything you do is a mystery to him and he just can't get enough.
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𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 — 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞
summary: at his hiding place, eddie "the banished" receives some bad news about the person he cares the most about, and because of that, he reminisces.
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
warnings: eddie's pov, no use of y/n. just some flirty flirting for now. she's an acoustic guitar girl, he's an electric guitar boy, what more can i say?
author's note: only minor changes have been made in this one, mostly added some lines. original version was posted on june 14, 2022. <3
series masterlist
It was the third time they'd almost scared him to death.
The first was when they found him, hiding at Reefer Rick’s boathouse, clinging to a piece of broken glass to dear life, like a cornered paladin clung to their sword - but with none of the honor, righteousness and lawful good bullshit, only a wanted man trying to make it through the night. The second was when they brought him supplies, and he was still too on edge to not be suspicious of anything that got too close.
This time, Eddie wasn’t expecting anybody, which made him even more worried. They were not supposed to be there that day.
He sat back as he watched Dustin make his way into the living room, followed by a distraught looking Robin Buckley and an equally upset Steve Harrington. They were all quiet, too quiet, and that could only mean bad news. More bad news.
“Please, don’t tell me I’m being charged for another uncanny murder case.” Making light of a bad situation had always been one of his strong points, but none of his jokes seemed to land right now that his life has turned upside down.
Literally, it seemed.
"No, no! There haven't been any other uncanny murders, but, uh…" Dustin started, "we kind of need your help now."
"You're friends with Nancy's neighbor, aren't you?" This time, Robin was the one to speak. She remembered your name and last name, then. "Senior, works at the record store downtown… We talked to your friends and they told us you're kind of close."
Kind of close. He thought. That's one way to put it.
"I'm offended you never mentioned her to us, by the way." intervened Dustin, but Eddie didn't have it in him to sass the boy back.
The mention of your name made his heart beat faster. He had grown used to the uneasiness in his chest, an anxious feeling that never really went away, but when it came to you, a new wave of almost overwhelming restlessness crashed through him.
There hadn't been a minute where Eddie hadn't thought about you. Alone and scared, hiding under a tarp while the silence of the woods and the soft waves of the lake below him lulled him to sleep, he thought about what you were doing, where you were, if you were safe. Whether or not the police had gotten to you, to interrogate you about him, just as they've probably done to his uncle, and if so, did you think he was capable of doing what he was being accused of?
He tried not to think much about that, though. Mostly, Eddie thought about your kind eyes and your warm laughter, smiling at him from behind the counter, the smell of your hair as he sat beside you, sharing a set of headphones as you tried to convince him to listen to something new. He'd give anything to see you again.
Nodding frantically, he stood up, stomach dropping at the same time. "Is she alright? Where is she?"
"She's fine, she's alone but she's home," Harrington intervened, raising one hand forward, "we just need to know… if you know… what her favorite song is?"
Eddie watched Steve wince uncomfortably as he tried to sound casual, and tilted his head at him, squinting. "What does that have to do anything?"
"It's a long story, but basically, um… me and Nancy came up with this theory that music can…"
Robin started fumbling with her words, but was promptly stopped by Dustin. "We just need to know what her favorite song is. She won't talk to anyone and we're worried, we can explain it on the way."
He didn't need to be a genius to understand what was going on there. Suddenly, images of Chrissy Cunningham's floating body flashed behind his eyes, her lifeless form dropping to the floor of his trailer, torn from the inside out — but, then, instead of her, it was you, your body, in her place.
The image alone almost paralyzed him.
"I know what her favorite song is. I know all of her favorite songs."
His voice trembled, just as his hands did slightly as he gathered his jacket from where it lied scattered on the couch, but still, he followed the trio as they rushed through the door.
1.
“No fucking way!”
“Shhh!” You snatched the record from his hands, but Eddie could see you were holding back a smile, “You’re scaring the customers.”
“He’s always scaring the customers.” Claire, the girl who worked the afternoon shifts with you, and who wasn't too fond of his behavior, rolled her eyes from where she stood, checking through a couple of boxes of new releases.
“He’s always scaring the customers.” He repeated her words mockingly, his face twisting in a sneer. Eddie knew he sounded childish, but it was worth it to see you biting your lip to hold back on laughing again, asking Claire to take those boxes to the back of the store and sort them out by artist, saying you would organize them later. He, on the other hand, didn’t hide his own grin as he watched the redhead leave through the staff door.
"You," pointing at him, you faked a glare, and Eddie would be lying if he said it wasn’t adorable, "are the most embarrassing human I've ever met."
Part of the fun of driving all the way downtown to buy new records and tapes wasn't just in getting to get his hands on new music, it had also a lot to do with you. The shy girl who mostly kept busy with stacking vinyl in alphabetical order and, for some reason, always seemed to know exactly what he was looking for. Eddie couldn’t seem to remember a time where you weren’t there, though he knew you must have started working at Mullberry's Records only recently, but you fit in there in a way that felt like you belonged. Not in the physical space between the rows and rows of records, and the colorful walls filled with cassette tapes, but in Eddie’s life.
He could spend hours there, and sometimes that happened quite literally, talking to you about music, though your opinions diverged quite a lot. On other days, when he just wanted an escape, he’d keep you silent company - as silent as he could manage - browsing through the sections and wandering behind the counter, controlling the record player only the staff had access to. You were easy to talk to, and that was something that was hard to find for him.
Maybe it was also because he liked the way you looked at him when he pushed your buttons.
"Are you listening to yourself? You're the embarrassing one!" He crossed his arms, leaning back at one of the shelves behind him. "Who doesn't like KISS?”
"They're just a bunch of clowns in high heels trying to make music. Also, who the hell names their band "kiss"? That's, like, the cheesiest shit ever."
“Unbelievable.” He shook his head, placing his hands on his hips. “What do you like, then, Your Highness?”
“I dunno…” You trailed off. As you did, Eddie watched you work, your delicate fingers counting through the new tapes scattered around the counter, silver rings glinting under the sunlight that filtered through the glass storefront, the way your mouth contorted as you seemed deep in thought, “I’ve been listening to a lot of Bob Dylan lately, some Joni Mitchell, she’s true magic, you know…”
“God, you’re so boring!” Your shocked face made him laugh openly, “didn’t anybody tell you this isn’t the Summer of Love anymore?”
“This isn’t the Summer of ten minute guitar solos, either, Munson. No matter how much you try to make it happen.”
“That’s because you haven’t seen me play yet. You’ll ask for ten more minutes when I’m through with it.”
Accidentally, that sounded a little more suggestive than he intended, and he knew that. He was almost apologizing, laughing it off with another joke, but he noticed the way you stopped on your tracks, slowly looking up at him, clearly trying to mask the way your breath hitched as you felt yourself fluster under his gaze.
Eddie noticed, then, that he liked that a lot more than he liked pissing you off.
“You wish.”
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₍^ >ヮ<^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ 2023 KBS MUSIC BANK GLOBAL FESTIVAL/BEHIND THE SCENES 
⋅˚₊‧ synopsis‧₊˚ ⋅ the last event of 2023 for txt and of course they had to end it with a bang
Red carpet outfit | makeup | nails | hair
᧔o᧓ the flashing lights were blinding and the photographers yelling out the members names was nothing new to the group. They kept their smiles on and continued posing until the MC came to ask questions.
᧔o᧓ “Joohyung-ssi how does it feel to finally perform one of your songs with a few of your members?” The MC asked. “I’m so excited! I always wanted to do this. I hope moa are just as excited and please cheer loudly for us.” Joohyung got embarrassed towards the end making everyone chuckle.
᧔o᧓ the MC made them each turn and say something nice to another. Beomgyu looked at Joohyung and even before saying anything the photographers went crazy with snapping pictures of the couple. With the sudden action made both of laugh. Beomgyu cleared his throat before speaking, “Joohyung is the definition of a perfect idol that our group is very proud of.” It was short and sweet which made Joohyung beam at him.
᧔o᧓ Joohyung turned to Yeonjun “um…” Joohyung was getting embarrassed again. “Y-you practice so hard and I admire you a lot for how hard working you are…um yeah.”
“Noona what was that?” Yeonjun laughed while hugging a flustered Joohyung. “I’m sorry, I was put on the spot.” Joohyung covered her face with her hands. “It’s ok noona.” Yeonjun rubbed her back comforting her.
᧔o᧓ Joohyung did go viral from her abs being more defined along with her elegant looks throughout the night. With her pearly white hair color Joohyung was called ice queen all over social media.
Gotta Go outfit | makeup | hair
᧔o᧓ the second those stage lights turned on the whole venue filled with screams. The trio just had a chic aura to them with this performance. Joohyung combined the original feminine dance moves with a masculine touch to them to suit Yeonjun and Beomgyu better in the company opinion. Joohyung would still dance to the original choreo towards the end of the main chorus.
᧔o᧓ Yeonjun and Joohyung got to share the high note with each other which moas erupted with cheer. Soon after the high note Joohyung got on the floor to so you iconic leg move. This performance was definitely the talk of the night and probably the most anticipated one.
The main performance outfit | makeup | hair
᧔o᧓ during ‘CTF’ the camera zoomed in on Joohyung during her part and she gave a flirty wink causing moas to scream. During the performance Joohyung felt her hair get caught on the gems on her jean jacket, so when it was time to take them off for ‘Tinnitus’ the jacket took some of Joohyung’s hair out of her braid. She held in her whimper from the pain and continued on performing.
᧔o᧓ many people praised Joohyung for doing hard choreo in heels, singing live while dancing, and for her amazing facial expressions.
✩┈┈∘*┈୨୧┈*∘┈┈✩
Practice outfit
᧔o᧓ “I miss the memo today.” Joohyung laughed, as she looked at her pink set and the all the members dark fits. The video then cut to the members looking at Joohyung’s abs, “I’m jealous of noona.” Kai pointed at Joohyung’s stomach. “You should come with us to the gym then.” Joohyung teased Kai. “I’m lazy~”
᧔o᧓ Soobin made Joohyung practice with him for his stage with Arin from Oh My Girl. He kept on smiling and laughing at Joohyung straight face while doing such a lively dance. “Noona you have to act cute!” Soobin whined, as he kept on dancing. “Fine.” Joohyung switch to being cute making Soobin burst out laughing.
᧔o᧓ the video shows the new trio practicing for ‘Gotta Go’. “Joohyung how about we do this-” Yeonjun shows what he thinks looks better in the dance. “Let’s try it.” The three continue practicing. Joohyung even practices her singing while dancing causing moas to go crazy on twitter with all the clips of her raw vocals.
᧔o᧓ Joohyung came to support Yeonjun as he was going to film his VCR intro. “It’s looks so good.” Joohyung watched Yeonjun through the tv. Once Yeonjun came back out of breath Joohyung immediately gave him a water bottle and hugged him, “you did so good junie-ah~”
᧔o᧓ it was now Soobin’s turn to perform his duo stage and just before leaving Joohyung stopped him to fixed his hair and outfit one last time. “There, you’re perfect.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you noona.” He just wanted to squeeze her with how endearing she was being.
᧔o᧓ “woah, woah, noona you look so chic!” Taehyun big boba eyes stare at Joohyung’s whole look. “Thanks, I really love it.” Joohyung looked into the mirror while fixing little things about her stage outfit. “Want me to take photos for you?” Yeonjun asked, already getting his phone ready. Joohyung gasped, “will you?” Yeonjun hummed ‘yes’ and already started pointing the camera towards Joohyung. They spent a good 10 minutes takes pictures, some solos pics then duo, and finally many trio ones. Just before leaving to the stage Joohyung started warming up her vocals and singing her parts. “I have to make sure my voice is in good condition before going.” Joohyung did feel a bit of pressure to perform the best she can, especially with this anticipated stage.
᧔o᧓ Joohyung came back to the waiting room squealing with happiness. “We were so good! I couldn’t even hear because of the cheers.” Everyone clapped and explained how good it looked. “I heard it through my ear-ins.” Beomgyu told the camera.
᧔o᧓ the group got a little break before their main group performance since they only had to perform short versions of their individual stages because they pre recorded the day prior. Joohyung mainly just fell asleep on the couch while Taehyun and Yeonjun did mini workouts.
᧔o᧓ the camera showed Soobin watching the ‘Gotta Go’ performance. “Woah they did a good job. Noona look so pretty with her makeup.” He chuckled while fixing his ear-ins and headset mic.
᧔o᧓ finally the members were done with all their performances and the cameraman showed them walking back into their waiting room. “Look there’s a chuck of my hair stuck.” Joohyung showed the camera her white hair strands clinging into the jewels of the jacket. “Did it hurt?” Yeonjun gasped at the sight. “It did! I had to hold in the pain.” Joohyung threw the jacket onto a makeup chair. “I had to suck in the tear that was coming out because of how hard I pulled it.” Joohyung cried, as she threw herself in the couch. 
᧔o᧓ “I think moas will enjoy all of our performances from today and we really enjoy performing all of our songs.” Joohyung did a mini clap, as she spoke. “Everyone did an amazing job today. Well done!” The members clapped before saying ‘fighting!’ 
#txt 6th member#txt additional member#kpop added member#kpop additional member#kpop female addition#txt female member#txt female addition#kpop female oc
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keep it hush (college!peter parker x fem!reader)
Summary: You find yourself crossing a line with Peter that you never intended to cross.
Pairings: fwb!peter x reader
WC: 1,086
WARNINGS: fluff, two idiots in love, mutual pining, slight angst (?)
important note: this fic has NOT been stolen! i, the original writer, am reposting this on my new blog as my previous blog (spiderl0rd) was wrongfully deleted. as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated! this is a part of @mermaidxatxheart ‘s Hot Writer Summer Challenge! this fic is based off of the song “Toothbrush” by DNCE. divider by @firefly-graphics
You were in heaven. At least it felt like you were.
Lying there with your head on Peter’s chest, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back, legs tangled up in the warm sheets, you were the most comfortable you’ve ever been. Perhaps too comfortable.
You and Peter met during your freshman year. He and his friend, Ned, lived in the dorm directly across the hall from you. After learning that you were both from Queens, you became instant friends. It wasn’t until the Spring semester that you noticed something between you. A spark.
A lingering glance here. A flirty comment there. You both finally decided to give in to temptation and try your hand at being friends with benefits.
That was six months ago and against your better judgment, you felt yourself falling for him. Hard. You swore to yourself that for the sake of your friendship, you wouldn’t let yourself get attached. However, your heart had other plans.
You glance out of the window to see the sun setting, realizing your time with Peter has come to an end. You let out a sigh before moving to climb out of bed. Before your feet are able to touch the ground, you feel a gentle hand wrap around your wrist.
“Wait, you’re leaving already? It’s barely even 8 o’clock.” He says with a nearly imperceptible pout on his lips.
You let out a light chuckle, “I just figured I’d start heading back. I’ve been here all day. You’re probably getting sick of me by now.”
“Don’t say that. I could never get sick of you. I love every minute I spend with you.” He says with a slight frown.
You pause and look at him – really look at him. He’s dead serious. You attempt to laugh it off, ignoring the feeling building in the pit of your stomach. You ruffle his already messy curls before finally climbing out of bed, “Aw, thanks, Parker. I love spending time with you too.”
There is a moment of silence as he takes you in. Eyes follow you around the room as you free yourself from his t-shirt, changing back into your own clothes.
“Hey, Y/N?”
You hum, urging him to continue.
“Y’know you’re always welcome to stay over if you’d like…right?”
You stop in your tracks and look at him, searching his eyes for any indication that he’s joking. Your search turns up empty.
You just sigh and shake your head. “C’mon Pete, we’ve talked about this. You know the rules.”
“It’s just…you’re always in such a rush to leave after we hook up. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do that, that’s all.”
“I appreciate that. Trust me, I do. I just don’t think it’s appropriate.”
“What do you mean? You’ve slept over dozens of times. What’s one more?” He says crawling over to the edge of the bed to be closer to you.
“Yeah but that was before we started doing this.” You say gesturing between the two of you.
“It’s just one night. It’s not a big deal.”
You frown, “Maybe not to you, but it is to me.”
A look of confusion flashes across his features. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that cuddling and spending time together after sex crosses a boundary that we both agreed we wouldn’t cross. We both agreed that we need to give each other space in order for this to work. Otherwise, it’ll start to feel like we’re more than just benefitting if you know what I mean.”
A long, uncomfortable silence hangs in the air as you go back to gathering your belongings. You almost forgot that Peter was in the room before he quietly spoke up again.
“…But would that be so bad, though?”
“Peter-”
“Please. Let me finish.”
You nod sitting back down next to him on the mattress.
“I’m sorry, okay? I know it’s against the rules or whatever but I can’t help the fact that every time I see you walk out that door, you take a little piece of my heart with you. Every night we spend together just plays on repeat in my head, over and over, until I get the chance to see you again. Being around you is all I want to do, Y/N.”
You feel your heart rate pick up and your breath quicken. This is the moment you’ve been dreaming of since you first came to terms with the fact that you had feelings for Peter. So, why are you not over the moon about his confession?
Avoiding his gaze, you turn away from him, shaking your head. “We’re friends Pete. I would never jeopardize that.”
“Well can’t we at least try? Look at me, sweetheart.” You reluctantly let your eyes meet his as he grabs your hands, sandwiching them between his own. “I say to hell with the rules. I’d break every rule in the book if it meant we got to be together. I’m not saying we have to end up in a relationship if that’s not what you want. All I’m asking is that we have a proper go at it and see if we can make things work. I’m tired of moving around in secrecy. I want to take you out on a real date. I want to fall asleep next to you. I want to be able to show you off because that’s what you deserve, Y/N. Let me be the one to give that to you.”
Your brain is screaming at you to say “no, absolutely not” but your heart is screaming louder and it’s telling you that this may be worth the risk.
“If I agree to this, keyword: if, would you agree to take things slow?”
“Of course, whatever you want! Maybe you can start leaving a change of clothes here? I can empty out one of my drawers for you if you’d like. I can even get you an extra toothbrush or something that you can keep in my bathroom. That way, you don’t have to leave super early to go back to your place. Oh! How about we-” You cut off his rambling by grabbing his face between your hands.
“Parker!”
A deep red washes over his features, throwing you a sheepish grin. “…Yeah?”
“I’d be honored to leave a toothbrush at your place, you goof.”
Those are the last words you’re able to say before he pounces on you, smothering your face with kisses. “You won’t regret this, Y/N. I promise.”
#peter parker x reader#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker imagine#hotwritersummerchallenge#peter parker#college au#college!peter parker#peter parker fluff#song fic#tom holland#fwb!peter parker#tom holland fluff#spiderman#peter parker fic#tom holland smut#tom holland x reader#tom holland imagine#marvel#marvel fanfiction#writing challenge#marvel imagine
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Tales of the Heart
Finarfin x mortal!reader
Request: Boyah!!! ♥️♥️ So happy requests re open!! ♥️ Could I please request Finarfin x human!reader? Perhaps after the final battle, he decides to see ME with his own eyes :') but he is a bit lost, the change it too much ! So the reader finds him and helps him thru his stay :") and sun fluffy romance!! 🤲♥️ — @noldorinpainter
A/N: When I say that I enjoyed writing this, I most absolutely did! This was my first official Finarfin request and it was so fluffy and sweet! Thank you for the request. I got to write a soft and flirty Finarfin and I was squealing. Thank you for increasing Finarfin content.
Warnings: none, nothing but absolute fluff and a flirty Finarfin shooting his shot
Words: 2.8k
Synopsis: As the War of Wrath came to an end, Finarfin decided to explore the beauty of Middle Earth. Instead, he discovered another form of beauty, becoming enthralled.
Part 1 | Part 2 |
The sound of streams rushing vigorously echoed to his right as his foot crossed a maple vine. Animals were scurrying across the forest floor the further he wandered into the forest. Though it was creepier than what he remembered during his childhood days in Valinor, it appeared much livelier now that the war was over, and the majority of the evil had fled.
The squawking and singing of birds overhead and in the canopy and buzzing of insects filled his head with safe sounds compared to the reoccurring sound of metal clashing. The melody was sweeter than the memories of the horrors of the great war. His said reason for escaping the confinements of the camp during nightfall left him to wander until the sun raised on him.
Anor’s rays were caught in his mess of golden ringlets which was designed into a messy bun with tresses still falling out—something to keep the humidity under control. Worrying about his troupes and the others was the least of his concerns; he wanted to explore the lands his father originated. The stories of fighting wild beasts—well that part was already explored—and travelling the distant lands, over the mountain and yonder filled his heart with exhilaration.
Making turns at all different angles and parts, following blinding trails and the forest beasts to wherever they may lead him, having a guide in this new land simply slipped the High King’s mind. His heart contained too much anticipation to learn what was around the river bend or above the canopy of the tallest tree. For a moment, he felt like his little boy when he was in his youthful years. Dragging and tugging at his arms to show him a mud puddle or spider forming its webs. Now he understood who and where Finrod's the enthusiasm resonated from.
Wandering for over twenty minutes, pushing himself deeper into the woods, the idea of handing his hand on the hilt of his sword was faint. All the evil was pushed back to the outer skirts of the land, surely he couldn’t have covered grounds that rapidly. However, he found his left hand sliding up his thigh to comfortably settle on the hilt of his sword. His grip was loose, easy to tighten in a flash if required, positive that the looming eerie sensation was no danger, but rather…uncommon. A concoction of excitement and curiosity overtook his body and urged him to walk forward, overstepping the squirrels that scurried about his feet.
What lay before him was an image he believed to only exist in a land like Araman, nowhere else had the capacity to withhold a beautiful sight. The freshness and holiness of the atmosphere were light and enchanting as if it was untouched by the creatures of the land, save for the animals. It was there his eyes landed on the stream his ears had the fortunate pleasure of listening to. The bubbles of happiness the running water echoed flooded through the roots of a maple tree whose roots formed an archway over the stream. Its roots were planted deeply, and its foundation was firm for the smaller creatures to gather in unity and live. Currently, its leaves were still green, signalling that autumn was far away from stealing its youth.
The exhilarating sensation was still bubbling in his chest when his foot landed in the enclosure and touched the grass. He felt like it was a crime to enter the area clad in his boots. Toes melting into the grass, he sighed blissfully at the warmth the earth provided. Middle Earth isn’t as terrible as I believed it to be after all! At this point, the dangers that could present themselves during this moment were long forgotten as his eyes took in the serenity the land offered.
Laughter had bubbled up his throat and slipped past his lips when a pair of blue jay swooped down from their nest and fluttered around him, singing their morning song. Anor’s rays were still scattered throughout the trees, yet to peak the canopy. Lifting his hand for the birds to land as he assumed it was their intention, the sound of another bird breaks his concentration.
“They seem to like you, well, of course, they would. You’re an elf, all animals tend to flock to your kind with ease.” You were sitting on the opposite side of the maple tree, hidden from his eyes, but audible to his ears. They cocked in the direction your voice echoed and his head automatically craned to view the owner of the voice with curious eyes.
The birds perched on his arm were long forgotten. You had taken the stoplight and captured his attention. Were you a fellow elf or perhaps half-elven as he had come to learn existed. He had met the Edains…who were highly indifferent to his kind. Many qualities were noticeable to differentiate elves from men, so surely, you were on the elven side. But…of course, they would. You’re an elf, an elf wouldn’t make such a statement. You were mortal.
“…Would you be so kind as to reveal yourself, that way I can know who I am about to host a conversation with?” He attempted to hide his commanding nature and royal assertiveness, not wanting to scare you or propose the assumption that you were being forced. Though, he wanted to be a bit commanding, desperate to meet the face of this cheerful voice.
The sound of a book shutting, and clothes crumpling resonated behind the tree and prompted him to shuffle his bare feet across the grass the view you before you could present yourself. What, or as a matter of fact, who he saw, surprised him. Mortals weren’t known for their exquisite form of beauty, but for certain, you surely must have been. The way your hair moved with you as you arose, swishing and curling with your body and wind, was enthralling. Your much smaller figure still held grace and agility that was comparable to the elves. Even your voice reflected the beauty that the elves were known for displaying. Mortal or not, there had to be a trace of elven blood somewhere.
Finarfin gawked, unconsciously, while you ushered yourself off the ground and encircled the tree to prevent stepping over the larger and more complicated roots. More to avoid embarrassment before an otherworldly creature. The corners of his lips were upturned, and his eyes softened as you bounded over to his taller figure without an ounce of fear. That brought some sense of relief to his erratic heart.
“Greetings My Lord, may a star shine upon our meeting.” You greeted him formally with the extension of your hand from your heart to him. His eyes widened unexpectedly and his lips parted to inhale. While the High King received the greeting from the other Edains upon meeting them for their war meetings, there was something different about yours. He couldn’t place his finger on it, but it provided some volume of pleasure.
Being in a distant land for what was considered a few years, his interest in learning the mortal tongue fluctuated due to their ability to communicate in his. While he knew their tongue, the memories of the language were hidden away at the back of his mind. Finarfin’s turmoil began the longer he stood there gawking at you, blue jays already flown away and hand limp at his side, dying to respond. For a moment, he forgot all knowledge of the proper sequence of hosting a conversation, but that was not the reason for his hindrance.
His heart thumped like a hummingbird as warmth filled his skin. He knew it was not the sun, it was still at its 8 o’clock angle. The increase of air in his lungs, the rush of blood flowing under his skin, the lightness of his body, the chorus his fёa sang, Finarfin knew exactly what it meant. It was the last thing on his mind he would ever expect to re-experience again, let alone, here in a foreign land. Loneliness was forgotten and had never felt so foreign and unnerving now that he stood face-to-face in your presence.
What would the Valar say if he offered to return home with you? Did you even feel what he felt?
“Apologies for my…silence…uhh. Might I know your name?” He quickly asked to prevent you from being swayed by his lack of response. When was the last time I had ever attempted to swoon someone? Ah yes, since then…
The memory wasn’t merry to remember. It stung him twice.
“Y/N, My Lord! My name is Y/N,” you exclaimed. “Might I have to honour of knowing yours?”
A name so unusual and unheard off was the epitome of a rare jewel; his mind could never comprehend or imagine such a beauty. Though, he could see the way you peered up at his majestic figure, enthralled the moment you were caught by his welcoming smile and softened electric blue eyes. Knowing the effect of his beauty on others became normality, but when it was you who was affected, his composure was slowly chipping away behind the sole of his feet. Being bare feet on the grass was probably a terrible idea, any moment he could lose his barring and fall harder.
“Arafinwe, my dear,” he politely answered, struggling to keep his the frequency of his voice stable. The hand that once gripped the hilt of his sword reached out and lifted your dainty fingers, over your head, to meet his soft lips (he hoped they were soft enough) and enthral you more.
His ears picked up the faint gasp and his fingers detected the skip in your pulse at the contact. He still had it in him to place his effective charming spell over you.
“Y-Your name…it is unusual to my ears. Very different from the Sindar and the Noldor. Are you perhaps a Moriquendi?” Your question would have offended another whose natural instincts were to shun the rejected race and prideful boost of theirs, but Finarfin knew there were no negative intents behind your curiosity. Like any charmed person, he would enlighten you.
“No, my dear. Noldorin I am, and from across the sea, I came to like those you know. However, my name remains unchanged and dwells in the language of the High Elves, Quenya,” he spoke. A voice like honey, rich and heavy, luring you in with positive intentions to savour more. A taste unlike any other you had ever sampled. Your folks told tales of the Edain who fell for the elf-maiden, fairest of all them all in face and voice, and you wanted to protest against that saying. He was the fairest of them all. Never had a voice like his make butterflies erupt.
“Ah, well that would explain your…accent, it is different from those who speak my tongue,” you stated.
Humming in a sing-song manner, he beamed. “Indeed it is. I have not developed the proper speech technique? …no, forgive me, phonetics of your language. I recently arrived.” He was still holding your hand in his, knowing that he needed to return it, but refusing to part from your touch. Finarfin was like a moth drawn to a flame.
“Then that means you are the elves who came to assist us in battle?! It is you, along with the King, from across the sea who won us the war and brought peace to our land?!”
“The stories have already spread? It has only been a month since the war ended,” he laughed enthusiastically and was intrigued to learn what you might have heard about him. “What have they said about the King?”
“Oh!” you exclaimed at the sudden pique in his interest. “Well, they said that it was he who won the war and defeated the great Dark Lord, driving him and his foul creatures from the land. He fought valiantly and fiercely, with the heart and strength of a lion.”
His heart fluttered at the impression the folks had on him, yet, he wanted to know what you thought of him.
Dropping his hand while maintaining his grip around your fragile fingers as he had come to understand about the Edain. Such delicate creatures you were, much need of care and protection would be required.
“And…what do you think of the King?” he peered, desperate to flutter his heart at your opinion of him. A start to understanding how you saw him through your eyes. A start to rekindle the fire in his heart.
“Well, My Lord…” you pondered. “I cannot say what I think of him for I have never met nor seen him. But I can say that he must be kind, strong and fierce to have led his troupes into battle and win.”
The smile on his face grew from your modesty. You were remarkably wonderful in the short moment he grew to know you. His ego was flaring up at the praises you threw innocently at him. Anyone else who praised him, and it would have been common knowledge from then, but you made a repetitive compliment sound like a prize. What other words could he successfully pry from your honeyed lips?
Turning his head up to the sky, the sun had already peaked and cast its noonday shadows. When did time fly this quickly? Did you cast and enchanting spell upon me? I surely do not mind. His troupes would be out searching for him, an interruption he refused to accept. If he stayed here, they would find him in a matter of hours, but of course, there were ways to evade unwanted interruptions.
“And what if I revealed to you that I am the Noldóran, the King, you speak of, will you continue to keep me company?” he teased. It was long since he felt the need to tease anyone. Not even his nephews he reunited with and he used to playfully tease as children could he attempt to taunt.
His heart was yearning for company…companionship, and you were giving him a sense of hope. Yet to truly understand and grasp the untold truth of the Edains, or perhaps like every other elf before him who did, he ignored it to fill the empty gap in his heart. When the time was right, what pain and suffering he had to experience, he would deal with it as such.
Appalled by his boldness, you stuttered, stunned, “T-The King? You are the King, Arafinwe…your Majesty? Why would you be out here conversing with me and not in the safety of your people?”
Chuckling while lifting his other hand to encompass the one holding yours, he held it between you both. Despite the great height difference between you two, looking down lacked discomfort. There was more mirth and dynamism the longer he locked his gaze with yours. He could see the way your cheeks became swollen and lifted to present your bashfulness and enthrallment to him. It was endearing to learn that he still had the effects he once possessed.
“The beauty of the land was calling to me, and I could not resist. So I came looking, and I was entranced when I discovered that it was you, beckoning to me,” he whispered delicately as though he was citing a soliloquy. “I do not wish to part from you so soon, I still have much to learn, and your company would be splendid.”
Falling speechless at his poetry, none which you ever heard from the elves, dwarves and men have ever sounded as sophisticated and eloquent as his. He was purposefully melting your insides a caramel. Looking up at his marvellously heightened figure, he appeared taller than most of the elves you witnessed. His aura was radiant and compelling.
“My King…surely you do not mean that. I am mortal and you, an elf. It is unlikely between us.”
“If it is unlikely, then why is my heart racing this instant as we speak?” His heart sped up and then clenched at the partial rejection. Never before had Finarfin felt the dire urge to act so direct. Affairs of the heart were always a dangerous situation to be caught in, and this was different from any he had experienced. “But, if that is what you wish, then I would respectfully understand and part ways, but if not, I will pursue no matter what they say.” But my heart would ache and cry for you.
Even you felt a pang in your heart at his sullen state of dejection. “…It is not every day you meet an elf who wishes to fancy you. Mayhaps we become a successful story to the others before us?” you breathed. “So how might I, a mortal, keep His Majesty company if he wishes it?”
“Ay, we can indeed,” he replied with little to no knowledge of the tragedies that couples like him and you faced, but eager was his heart and fëa to love again. He would put his affections and courage to the test to love you. “Arafinwe, my dear. And a tour of the area would be pleasing; that way I can find you easily when I wish to reunite with you again,” he smirked.
Shyly nodding and biting your lip, you hid your growing flustered state and mumbled, “Then I would be honoured to give you a tour to meet again…soon, Arafinwe.”
Masterlist
Taglist: @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @spidergirla5 @lilmelily @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @singleteapot @the-phantom-of-arda @rain-on-my-umbrella @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner
#finarfin x reader#finarfin imagine#finarfin scenario#finarfin fluff#finarfin#silmarillion x reader#silmarillion imagine#silmarillion fluff#silmarillion scenario#silmarillion fic#middle earth x reader#middle earth imagine#middle earth fluff#middle earth fic#house of finarfin#arafinwë#arafinwe#arafinweans#house of finwe#x reader fluff#x reader insert#tooth rotting fluff#silmarillion#doodlepops writings ✨
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Ever thought about... m robot servant!yan and technician!darling 👀 reader bought him to do housework when they're at work, but he ends up getting attached romantically to them.
Reader fixes him up everytime he has an 'accident', not knowing it was him who caused your flirty co-worker to go missing.
"G-g..oood morning, master! It is currently 9:34am. Exactly two hours after you first set me to snooze mode! Please wake up, your breakfast will be ready soon and I would like to know what drink you'd like."
You throw your arms over your eyes to shield from the light that pours in the room, and the led screens pointing down at you that mirrored human eyes. Cherry was your personal servant robot, as well as a person pain. He was gifted to you by a friend who may have got him at a large discount for their job at a scrap yard. He was one of the latest models of his line, if dated by a few newer issues, but needed serious repairs.
You gave him a new left arm after his original had been damaged beyond fixing, updated outdated softwares, and did whatever else to make his as good as new- almost. The left half of the human part of his face was covered with a metal plate until you could find the right synthetic skin to cover it with, but he refused to have it covered as it was something his new master did for him.
He's been your helper for some time, and one that wasn't half bad with all his programming. You even took him to work somedays when you needed the extra hands. He had a bright, cheerful personality; part of the reason why you named him Cherry along side his vibrant red shell. Names are hard.
"Is your voicebox having problems again? Didn't I tell you to stay in the work shop until I got home later?"
Cherry lets out a nervous laugh; voice rising in pitch and stuttering to an end as he stops. "Well... Yes. B..but, I had to make you breakfast. Today is French toast day and I know y..ou don't have the time to make them. Route is important, master... but so is c-change so that's why you can pick today's beverage."
Cherry was in his cooking "uniform" wearing an apron he asked you to buy with ruffles and a cherry printed fabric. In hand he held a spatula; batter dripped onto his clothes and "skin". The way he was holding the utensil made you think he was going to smack you for your laziness, but that was something he'd never do as part of his code and love for his master.
You climb out of bed. "Fine, I'll get up, but only if you head to the workshop after you're done cooking."
He beams, smile sprouting over the face of his monitor. "Anything for you, master!."
-
After finishing up, you head to your home shop to check on Cherry. He sat patiently on the work bench, sweeping his legs back and forth as he hummed to himself. His apron was neatly folded next to him, and his hands were in his lap; fidgeting with his fingers in a way that opposed his otherwise calm nature. He perks up as you enter.
"Master! You're b-back! I was counting the seconds you were away, would you like to know how many it was?"
"Maybe later, I want to check on you first."
His face mirrors a blush. You always took such good care of him, he was so glad to have a master like you. He felt a little bad, since it should be the other way around, but that's why he gives every task one hundred percent of effort and twenty more.
You begin to inspect his outer body, Cherry complying with every order as you as him to lift an arm or turn his head. As you checked his left leg, you noticed some small chipping in his paint. Looking at the right, there was a dent on his knee. You spot other minor damages along his frame as you do a doubt check.
"Cherry... What are all these dental and scratches from?"
"Hm? Oh I-I'm not sure, master. You know I can be a bit clumsy.."
You want to pry, but your attention is quickly taken by a small heart craved into the crook of his left arm. "Did.. did you engrave this on yourself?!"
"Y-yes! It is the first part that you fixed on me after all. I'm grateful for it all of c--course, but I wanted something to show how much I lo-lov- appreciate you."
"We should really get that voice box looked at. Tell me about what happened while I was sleep last night while I open you up. I know you don't go to sleep when I tell you to"
You remove his oval shaped chestplate, grabbing the proper tools ask you get to work. Cherry happily rambles away as you tinker around in his chest.
"I'm, sorry. I'll try to b-be more obedient. I was just up late doing some cleaning. I watched you sle-ep for a while. I saw a raccoon while I was taking our trash." His voice becomes grainy as you mess around with his circuitry. "And your coworker, Link, came to visit around eleven."
You pause. "They did?"
"Yes, but I sent them away. Had.. other business to take care of I suppose."
"That doesn't seem like them, but why didn't you wake me up."
"You were asleep. It's rude to wake someone up when they're resting."
The abrupt bass in his tone made you jump. That was new. What were you doing wrong? There was also something off about what he said too. Link was not the type of person to be persuade easily. It's why you were friends in the first place. If you didn't open the door before you got Cherry, they'd blow up your phone until you met their demands. Maybe he was better at it than you.
You eventually get things working again, despite a few hiccups here and there. You concluded that something had damaged his voicebox, and would need to replace it sooner or later. For now you had a pretty exhausting start to the day. You didn't even want to go when your boss called you to come in. Cherry informed him that you weren't feeling the best, and would have to take the day off; missing the initial police report interview as he massaged your aching joints for being such a good partner to him.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere oc#yandere scenarios#yandere x you#yandere imagines#male yandere#yandere insert#yandere robot#Yandere android#yandere drabble#yandere fic#yandere writing#yandere story#soft yandere
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So, here’s the thing. Around this time of year, I can be very (some would say overly) sentimental. And it partly has to do with my nana and the fact that she passed on NYE many years ago.
Because she was the kindest, gentlest, most beloved person I ever knew, and I always wished I could be as effortlessly good as she was making people around her feel loved and special.
This year, being on this site, reading everyone’s words and realizing how much talent there is in this community has been staggering to me. In a million years, I could never express what it has meant to me properly.
And one of the things that brought me joy this year was making covers for some of my favorites. Most I’ve shared already, but I wanted to compile them all together along with some (unhinged) rambling, sorta like a year-end review.
That’ll all be under the cut. But for now, I just want to express my deepest thanks to anyone reading for helping me get through this year.
Because whether you knew it or not, you really and truly did. ❤️
I’m gonna start with my token Hellcheer fics cos they were like my gateway drug 😉
These stories by @majicmarker & @hangon-silvergirl
I love the humor in them, the way they capture Eddie’s voice so completely. Just the straight up FUN I had reading them both made me want to be able to do it again and again. Anytime I write from Eddie’s pov, I feel like I draw inspiration from here cos they just really capture the energy and chaos of his mind that made me fall in love.
I am so narcissistically obsessed with these covers. They are far and away my favorites and sometimes I just look at them like, “omg I made that???” Similarly, the Whatta Man stories I’m equally obsessed with: Steve and Eddie as flirty coworkers in a bar? Overlapping stories?? 90s REFERENCES OUT THE ASS??? Sign me the fuck upppp. Eddie’s night was my gateway into the world of @loveshotzz's writing and what a wonderful world it is 🥰 Speaking of….
I had originally wanted these two to be like coordinating covers because the stories were connected, but the simply put immaculate vibes of both are so different, I wanted to reflect that.
The hold these two old men have on me is just embarrassing. I read every update with my feet kicked up behind me like a little fucking school girl watching Steve fall in love with his tough girl and falling in love with him right back. And I’m so endlessly enamored with OCS Eddie. I poured over every part of their story, drinking in every detail @carolmunson put into it like it sustained me because it did. So desperately in love with everything Carol writes, but my god there is something about him that just breaks me.
Welcome now to the wealthy Steve portion of our program. These are the stories I wish were movies I could watch over and over and over. They are so cinematic in the way they are written and the way the characters interact. I mean, The drama! The tension! The fcking cliffhangers! @katyswrites had me SAT for the entirety of her whirlwind summer romance and I still find myself wishing I was on Ischia island in a private villa with Steve…
And We’ll Call It Love….it’s so, so good. It is my dream come true for a rom com, it’s got so much humor and heart and lightness and sadness and I literally care about EVERY character’s happiness, like how do you even do that, @superblysubpar?? Is it witchcraft? You can tell me if it’s witchcraft.
The “Yes” Policy is everything to me. It is written so gorgeously and it’s such a complete and fully realized world. The amount of care and time and effort that’s put into every. single. word. is just so apparent and so incredible it makes me weak. @pinkrelish knows these characters down to their bones and shows them to be so hopelessly in love I can’t even articulate how lovely a story it is.
Last two! And oddly appropriate these lined up together because they’re respectively the oldest and the newest stories I’ve fallen in love with.
@blueywrites’s TKYM was the first ever Eddie fic I ever read. An AO3 link to it came across my dash with someone saying “if you haven’t read this yet you are missing out” or something along those lines…and damn if they weren’t right. I’d never read an x reader fic before. I had yet to watch Stranger Things. I knew Eddie as a meme only. I was so wholly transfixed by the writing and the way Eddie was characterized — I devoured this story like my life depended on it. I go back to it and back to it and back to it. I see myself in it, I see the person I want to be in it. It makes me feel every feeling I can possibly feel all at once. It is simply…awe inspiring. It brought me here.
And @sweetsweetjellybean’s Torn is…idek know how to describe it? I have been down bad for that Eddie since the first “Hey, doll.” He’s got me in a goddamn chokehold. The pure excitement I feel every time an update posts is so overwhelming and the writing is so good it takes my breath away. The way the story moves and the depth of the world surrounding it makes it feel so real in a way that I forget it’s fiction? It’s such a beautiful story for Eddie and it’s so enthralling I really cannot wait to see where it goes.
Aaaaaand that’s it! If you’ve stuck around this far — thank you for doing so ☺️
I hope everyone has a wonderful year. Please know that you deserve only good things and you are loved deeply even when it doesn’t feel/seem like it. You have everything you need to make your life into the one you want and nothing can stop you from doing so, not even yourself.
Love you, mean it. ⛄️✨💕
#you know those update newsletters some families send out as christmas cards?#that's the vibe here#fic rec style#canva
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in honor of me starting my 2947829184th glee rewatch i wanted to post a light analysis of finn hudson vs mike wheeler that i was reminded i wrote down in a time i was (sadly) much more convinced of a byler endgame than i am now,, cuz i kinda had a point
here she is:
i would love for someone to do an analysis of byler vs kurt hummel and finn hudson (would like to interject here to say someone should definitely do this and do it better with like actually siting stuff) like how a show (also explicitly about outsiders) purposefully creates an unrequited gay man to straight dynamic and how entirely different that is from how stranger things sets up mike and wills dynamic.
i mean they’re completely different shows and glee is a satire so it might be hard to compare them 1 to 1 because glee doesn’t tend to give that much weight to any relationship in its like first twoish seasons but i think its a good example for how it would be so easy to just make mike so obviously straight and not at all into will (it wouldn’t even have to be about el, with finn its not about quin or rachel, its just that hes not into men and is into women) and they’re choosing not to, they are choosing to lean into that dynamic and (this is important for this comparison) NOT in a brotherly way, not in a familial way, their relationship is never once compared to that (mike and el’s is but thats not entirely relevant here). In glee kurt liking finn is much more about his identity than it is about a romantic relationship with finn, they explore their relationship in depth in seasons 1 and 2 (and never again we dont have to talk about it yes i am bitter) but it is never not once implied that kurt’s feelings could be reciprocated, no lingering shots on finn’s face while hes watching kurt, nothing flirty, finn shuts him down multiple times, finn knows kurt likes him, its not used as a big reveal because that is NOT WHAT IS PLOT RELEVANT!!
what is relevant is kurt coming out to his dad and kurt’s overall identity and learning to stick up for himself and finn helping him do that in a BROTHERLY way (by the end of season 2 their parents are married and they are literal step brothers, there is no way to misconstrue their relationship) if wills feelings for mike were not reciprocated or at least impactful on their relationship there is no reason to make the audience anticipate mikes reaction to them, to save them for a reveal with an incredibly plot relevant lie that has to be uncovered, this has to alter their relationship in some way and literally what purpose would it serve if it was just a rejection?? why would you wait to reveal that if its only purpose is then essentially will’s identity? if the point of season 4 was to build back up mike and wills friendship, why not use that is something they have to overcome in the beginning of that season? why save it as a reveal? the actors have harped on the fact that mike doesn’t know about wills feelings so when they are rebuilding their friendship this is at least not a factor for him. (back to glee) when finn and kurt were building their relationship as brothers and friends, kurt’s romantic feelings were acknowledged as something they had to work through, they were not saved as a big aha moment because they wouldn’t have changed things. bottom line is that the reveal of wills feelings will change the nature of mike and wills relationship and there is no reason (besides like a villain origin story? thats all i can think of. cuz his arch isn’t about figuring out he doesn’t need romance or that he has the love of his family and boys arent important, he doesn’t have romance and the entirety of seasons 1 and 2 were about how much his family love him and the whole boys are stupid thing is for el) for that shift to be in the form of a rejection
#stranger things#byler#stranger things 5#byler analysis#stranger things analysis#byler endgame#byler is canon#mike wheeler#will byers#finn hudson#kurt hummel#glee#glee analysis#byler tumblr#byler theory#mine
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Hello! It’s 📸 anon. Could you please do a Halo RVB rivalry concept with Simmons and Grif with a blue team darling? Preferably set in the first few seasons, Blood Gulch Chronicles era. Thank you!
Ah yes, the original sillies. I apologize as it's been a long time since I saw Blood Gulch Chronicles so I'm going primarily off memory and my concepts!
This is less on their general yandere behavior and more on how they would react to the situation. If you want to see their separate yandere behavior in depth, check the concepts below!
Had some help from the requester for some of this near the end!
Original Simmons Concept
Original Grif Concept
Yandere! Simmons vs Grif with Blue Team! Darling
(Blood Gulch Chronicles)
Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Jealousy, Stalking, Fear of loss/abandonment, Violence, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Delusional behavior, Forced relationship.
Simmons would be Hesitant/Observing, Compassionate, Forgiving, Easily jealous, Emotional, Caring, and Self-Conscious about himself and his feelings.
Simmons is the type of yandere that struggles to reach out to his darling due to a fear of rejection.
Despite this he is very kind and compassionate.
He's easily jealous yet somewhat forgiving, he's also a bit delusional.
He'd be the one to blame everyone but you for things going wrong.
You could do no wrong to him.
Simmons is also emotional and often searches for comfort in his darling.
Simmons is even incredibly anxious about losing you to anyone.
Grif would be Loyal, Somewhat emotional, Caring, Fears being abandoned, Obsessive, Somewhat manipulative, Cold, Somewhat possessive/jealous, and Delusional.
He's more delusional than Simmons.
He also has an easier time with interacting with you.
Grif normally shows he hates everyone else but around his darling people can see there's a difference in his behavior.
He acts likes he doesn't care what others think of him but would be hurt if he heard you didn't like him.
He fears abandonment like Simmons yet would sacrifice anyone if it meant he'd have you.
Grif can go some time without thinking of you unlike Simmons, yet when he sees you he's all about you.
While Simmons is more like a lovesick puppy, Grif is similar yet a little bit more emotionally manipulative.
This is all information I pulled from their separate concepts.
Both Simmons and Grif are very similar yanders types with slight differences in confidence and jealousy.
Those concepts implied you were on the same team, however.
In this concept not only are you on Blue Team, but the two are competing for you.
Honestly this being around the Blood Gulch Chronicles era may make this more intense.
This is due to the fact you're on two different teams.
Not only do the two feel jealousy and tension between each other, they have to worry about you being close with others in Blue Team.
Imagine the tension Tucker causes, the single most flirty character in RvB?
Tucker could just be playfully flirting with you and the two red soldiers spying on you are seething.
Due to it being the more light hearted times of RvB, I imagine their rivalry would be comedic.
Stuff like they catch each other stalking you and get into a petty argument.
The two definitely sneak near the Blue Base just to catch a glimpse of you.
The issue is both of them never get a chance to talk to you.
Maybe they try to get Caboose to tell them things about you?
Caboose has no idea why both Simmons and Grif keep asking about you.
Maybe he even thinks you have fans or something based on how desperately they try to ask about you.
The two would fight more if you were on their own team.
Yet since you're on Blue Team it becomes a competition until they can find a way to get closer to you.
Speaking of getting close to you, there isn't many ways of doing that.
Either of them can probably ask Caboose to arrange a meeting with you.
That's how conversations with the two start and how you meet them.
You notice Simmons is shy and struggles to speak with you at times, it's cute in a way yet you keep your distance.
Grif is a bit more entitled yet he seems to show an interest in you and tries to play things casual.
There's a certain air to speaking with them.
You can vaguely tell they have an interest in you, you just don't know the degree.
The other way the two could talk with you is if they... well... took you in.
Be it disguised as a hostage or one of them gets too eager and takes you, that's another way you can interact.
Simmons is the one most likely to kidnap as Grif is lazy.
Either way, whoever does it may disguise it as a hostage situation for the other team's flag.
Only for their real intentions to be more sinister.
Hell, maybe Simmons and Grif work together temporarily to take you to their base before resuming their fight.
Simmons often comes up to you alone to rant about nerdy interests, trying his best to warm up to you.
Meanwhile Grif comes to you to (begrudgingly) offer food and speak with you also.
They try to keep their obsession secret from the rest of their team but some can tell the two don't just have you as a hostage.
The two are both needy for your attention.
One may come at the same time, resulting in an argument.
Simmons is the one that visits the most compared to Grif.
Grif is less reliant on you to reassure him, hut he checks in to make sure Simmons isn't being too cozy with you.
The two mostly argue with each other instead of anything violent.
So don't expect the two to kill each other over you.
They both may corner Tucker later for all that flirting.
Honestly when it comes to a Blue! Darling they'd have moments where they cooperate due to their similarities.
Only for them to argue and fight again later.
You get worried when one of them gets overly affectionate.
Like maybe Simmons is in the middle of his delusions and asks if you love him in such a serious tone.
Or Grif pulls you close to him so he can whine about Simmons taking your attention.
The two are just so needy with you, especially when they have you as their captive.
Good luck to Blue Team getting you back, the two are not letting you go.
They've worked so hard to get you to their base already?
Here's some other things that were suggested they'd do.
The two may try to hide Blue Team's flag to prevent hostage negotiations from going through.
Then Blue Team has nothing worthy enough to trade.
A silly thing to think about is your armor being painted red while Simmons and Grif try to convince Blue Team you "were never blue" and they just "didn't notice".
Simmons would definitely use Sarge's approval of him to guard you more often than Grif.
Unless it backfires and Sarge feels guarding you is the only job Grif can do right.
Sarge has no idea he's being used for relationship drama.
Simmons and Grif are willing to do anything to make sure you stay.
Be it silly or clever... they're determined.
They don't plan on letting you leave them so easily...
Not when you haven't said who you really love yet!
#yandere halo red vs blue#yandere halo rvb#yandere red vs blue#yandere dick simmons#yandere dexter grif
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It's all academic darlin' PART 6/10
12k+ Hangster AU. Updating 2-3 parts per week and will be finished by 14th January 2024. (Each part is ~1500 words).
Bradley is a professor but living his best life with IceMav parents. Jake is a pilot. Maverick sort-of tries (and fails) to play matchmaker, so he tries again. Touch of epistolary and sprinkling of one-sided unknown/mistaken-identity.
For the emails in this part (because bold (Bradley Bradshaw) and italics (Jake Seresin) aren't super obvious) the beginning and ending of emails are also marked with this: <>
PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5
Bradley stares at the email and snorts in disbelief. Fucking hell, Mav's right. Alive and breathing and he’ll flirt with it. Though it does make him wonder why Jake didn't flirt with him when they were at the cabin. One word he'd never use to describe Jake Seresin is shy.
<>You’re lucky you’re not one of my students. Pretty sure I’d have to report that email for sexual harassment.<>
<>Lucky for you I’m not. Anyway, you started it.<>
<>Not intentionally. I’ve used that turn of phrase dozens of times before and never had anyone reply like you have. And I’m never going to be able to use it again without thinking it’s inappropriate, so thanks for that.<>
<>I aim to please.<>
<>I’m sure you do.<>
… … …
<>I’m sure you do.<>
Those four little words have Jake taking in a long slow breath, he’s never before realized that flirting through email was something you could do. Makes sense, he’s done it through text messages and apps plenty, and obviously in person, but through email is a new thing. Plus he’s never flirted and not known what the person looked like before, even if they were old pictures on Tinder or Grindr… Apps he never got back around to reinstalling on his phone. He wonders if it’s just the length of time since he got laid that is making him feel… interested. Curious. This flirting is two-way, he hasn’t had the guy give short or sharp replies, he’s humoring Jake. Almost playful.
He’s on a carrier for the next few months, training and upskilling; so he has nothing to lose in emailing this guy. Being flirty. Plus he’ll actually get some answers to his original questions which he sent off earlier. He’s definitely more interested in this than he thought though, wonders if the guy is single. Okay. That’s putting the carriage before the horse, they’re exchanging emails. If it becomes something more than just… light flirting and getting to know each other then he will ask.
… … …
<>So what do you like to do in your down time?<>
<>Well, I have a pretty full schedule. I teach and carry out research, but that’s my job so not down time I guess. But I love it, so it doesn’t exactly feel like work. Outside of my paid hours of work I do… well. Everything? I love trying new things, sometimes the more dangerous the better. I do rock climbing at least twice a week, hiking, do some jet skiing, water skiing, snowboarding. Picked up all the winter sports when I lived in Sweden. Plus my dad is a freaking daredevil and adrenalin junky so he’s always finding ways to do stupid shit. Usually drags me along. I go out to a quiz night with my postgrad students and some colleagues. What about you?<>
<>You mean the very little leave I have? I usually spend it with friends and doing whatever they want to do. I’ve started enjoying hiking a bit more, like keeping active. I love my job too, feel very lucky to get to fly and get paid for it.<>
… … …
<>Favorite type of music?<>
<>Country. Can take the Texan out of Texas, but you can’t take the country lovin’ out of the Texan. You?<>
<>I’ve yet to hear music I don’t like. But I’m a fan of things I can sing along to. I’m constantly singing, people say they can hear me before they can see me.<>
Jake rubs his eyes, feels like he’s making connections where they don’t exist. Lots of people like singing along to music. And Bradley is a common name. In the beginning some of the emails do actually go into the work Bradley does, and he gets more articles to read. He’s got a much better grasp of materials science now, and he re-reads the original article Mav gave him and it’s fascinating now, rather than being slightly interesting.
… … …
<>So how long is your deployment and what are you up to? If you can share it.<>
<>Unless something comes up I’ve got three months left of what is a seven month deployment. And I’m a naval aviator. Recently been doing nothing but night landings, which I have to admit has to be my least favorite thing to do. Nothing like taking off from a carrier though.<>
<>My dad was a naval aviator. A RIO.<>
<>Does he still fly?<>
<>No. He died when I was small. Training exercise actually, so you be safe out there.<>
<>Always.<>
Bradley stares at the screen in front of him, thinks about Mav telling him that Jake saved his life and what kind of fucked up mission apparently made him an Ace. Knows his mom didn’t want him joining any of the armed forces, but he doesn’t know how she’d feel about him wanting to… date one. Obviously exchanging some emails isn’t dating, but he still feels like he’s laying groundwork for something and it’s a little unsettling. But his life is so heavily intertwined with the defense force, he understands the ebb and flow and nature of work. Has to accommodate it often enough with his own research.
Also, he’s not sure, but he gets the feeling that Jake has forgotten that they’ve met. He knows now that Jake was dealing with concussion when they met, so he’s wary about reminding him. He’s been there; both the dealing with a concussion and dealing with Mav playing a bit free and easy with personal medical details. Regardless, being reminded you’ve forgotten shit and not remembering just makes you feel like shit so he just… ignores it. He doesn’t mention Mav, wouldn’t have mentioned Ice anyway, and just refers to his ‘dad’ to sort-of describe his dad, Mav, and Ice, even if it might get confusing if Jake picks up on it.
He takes the email communication as the opportunity it is though, to get to know Jake without the idea that he needs to portray any particular type of image. He’s going to ask all the questions which have crossed his mind in the last few months. Okay. Maybe not all of them…
… … …
<>Do you like cooking?<>
<>Yeah, definitely. I don’t get much opportunity though. My gran taught me. I like the meditative nature of a lot of the works. Like kneading dough, julienning vegetables, finely dicing things… that’s one of my happy places. What about you?<>
<>Yeah, I love cooking too. I totally get what you mean about it being meditative, takes you out of other thoughts and makes you focus. Also I love cooking for others. I’m told it’s one of my love languages.<>
… … …
<>You ever wonder what your life would be like if you took a different path? I think about it sometimes, if I'd studied something different, or followed my dad despite my mom pretty much expressly forbidding me to do so...<>
<>I'd be on my family ranch. Or in the airforce. I like my life though, wouldn't want to change much. <>
<>No regrets then?<>
<>A few. But I wouldn’t be the man I am today without them so not really.<>
… … …
<>Sorry this can’t be longer – I’ve got a pile of marking and then I’ve got to get to my dad’s for dinner. Weekly dinner cannot be missed upon pain of death, even if right now it’s a choice between undergraduate essays and dinner with the parentals.<>
Jake frowns, he’s certain Bradley had said previously that his dad had died when he was young. Must be a step-dad or something. The emails haven’t remained super flirty, but there’s definitely been comments here and there. One email confirming he’s single, which Jake had tucked away; felt encouraged that this was going somewhere and he feels weirdly invested in just where that somewhere might be. The emails have made the weeks flow quickly, the constant communication back and forth has just felt… good. Bradley has made him laugh, and challenged him to think about technical shit which he’d never done before. He’s still been working out and socializing plenty, but for fifteen to thirty minutes a day he spends reading and writing to Bradley and he’ll be back within six days and Bradley’s last line in his email has his heart skipping a beat and then going double time.
<>If my dates are right, then the GW gets in this week. How do you feel about catching up over a drink?<>
<>Before or after the hands-on experience and private tour?<>
He’s more confident this time that he’s going to get a positive answer, not the original dread after his first flirty email months ago. He does indeed get in this week, and for once he might have plans which aren’t with friends or family. He sends a quick email to his brother and sister, letting them know he’ll come and visit after he’s been back at least a week, which is his usual practice anyway.
… … …
<>So the easiest thing, for an ACTUAL tour of the labs, is for you to come to the University. I finish teaching at 3 on Friday, so can show you around then. Just come to the engineering office and I’ll swing by. Then we can discuss the hands-on experiences. You want my number?<>
<>You have a functioning phone?<>
<>Harsh. Here’s my number anyway. I’ll try and keep my phone safe.<>
What the fuck.
That’s just… it’s too much of a coincidence now. Jake scrunches his face and wonders if he’s maybe still just trying to make connections where there aren’t any. Is it all wishful thinking on his part? There just seems to be more and more mounting evidence though. It started off with a couple of things that made him wonder. It’s been too long now to ask outright, but he’s put the pieces together. Bradley Bradshaw is also somehow Bradley Mitchell and a part of him doesn’t want to ask. Can’t ask now that it’s been four months of emailing back and forth. He grabs his phone, most of the contacts are callsigns or emojis, and he decides to go with the theme and puts a little rooster emoji and he opens up the notes app. Wants to list things manually.
He likes singing to music.
He may or may not have a functioning phone. Again?
He’s a navy brat, which any kid of Mav’s would be.
Except he said his dad died in a training exercise…
Mav gave me the article.
Okay.
Okay.
He cracks his knuckles and searches for Bradley Bradshaw again. Pictures of the Bradley who he thinks of as Mav’s son come up again, but this time he does some actual digging, clicking through links to conferences featuring keynote speaker profiles and it has actual photos. Definitely photos of Bradley Bradshaw, his name under the photo and everything. So Bradley Bradshaw and Bradley Mitchell are the same person and he’s coming to grips with that, because Mav gave him the article. He goes back and adds a row of exclamation points with a few question marks to help convey his confusion. What did Mav mean by giving him the article? What is he missing? Is he missing anything? Is he reading too much into this? He tugs at his hair in frustration.
Wait.
He goes back through the emails and there, Bradley says his dad was a naval aviator. Well, he guesses Mav was one too, even… but no. Bradley said his dad died during a training exercise. Something is tickling in the back of his mind and he logs in to the naval database, types in the name Bradshaw and there it is. There’s a fucking family resemblance to write home about, holy shit. He falls down a little rabbit hole of enquiry and finds out the history of Nicholas Bradshaw and Peter Mitchell and he knows now, 99.99% that Bradley Bradshaw is also Mav’s son. He puts all his email interactions with Bradley into perspective and yeah, they’d definitely been flirting and getting to know each other really well. He’s shared some things with Bradley which only Javy or his siblings know.
Also Bradley’s hot, even with the shirts and bad moustache and now that he knows what Bradley Bradshaw looks like, knows what he looks like shirtless chopping wood, or stripping off after a run, or explaining how the pump system works… Fucking hell, of course he knows shit about stuff like that, he’s an engineer. He said he was a teacher. And he loves music, and flying and can cook… He goes back to Rate my Professor and rereads them with new eyes and huh, okay, yeah, it all tracks.
Okay. They’ve arranged to meet and then… go from there. He’s not naïve enough to know drinks could mean anything, because Bradley Bradshaw for sure as hell knew who he was talking to the whole time. It does raise a different question in Jake’s mind though.
Did he think Jake knew who he was talking to?
PART 7
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