#WHY DOES BELLE LOOK LIKE SHE’s ABOUT TO MAKE A MEAN ‘I’m not like other girls’ post?!

[hyukaslvr]

strong enough | J. Jungkook (3)

<series masterlist

pairing: Jungkook x (f) reader

genre/tags: idol! Jungkook, idol! reader, idiot exes to lovers, slow burn ; k-drama feels (our beloved summer but not at the same time), angst, drama, fluff, smut

warnings: foul/explicit language, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters, panic attacks, reader is harsh towards Jungkook, Jungkook is a meanie!, mentions of old abuse (major trigger warning!!), talk about blood and wounds

w.c: aproxx 11.2

series summary: you and Jungkook have too many personal problems, during and after your relationship and it keeps getting brought up. you both had tried multiple times to ignore the fact you were both struggling mentally and physically due to your workplace, but you always run back to each other. maybe one day, one day you'll get back to each other, with all your problems handled, maybe not. all you want is for him to shine like he always does, all he wants is you.

a/n at very bottom!

To my love, my forever. You will soon find out the reason why I am the way am I. Give me some time, my love, I will express everything and more to you. Soon, you’ll have everything once I am able to love and care for myself the way I want to do to you. You deserve everything and more than what I could ever give you, and I will be there for you always. I may never give you this, I may never allow you to read this. But just know, you mean so much to me. Even if I’m a pain in the ass, or if I piss you off, you will always be the person who helped me want to change for the better. I know it may seem like i’m leaving you behind, but pushing you away is the best way for me and you to be able to find ourselves. Once we are settled and ready, I will never let you go, ever again. Mark my words, use them against me, but I know that once you let me in, I’ll never leave your side ever again. You’re my one and only, forever. You are my future, my light, the person who drags me to be right. You mean so much to me and more. But for now, let me go to become the one that deserves your love and wellbeing. Take care of yourself, Jungkook, you will do many good things in life, with or without me.

“i think you should give it to him,” one of your members slur out, making your already wobbly head tilt up to her as she hiccups for the 5th time that same hour, you sighed and your head pounded as your squinted tightly to look at her, “seriously! i think he would want closure that way,”

Jungkook definitely did. he knew that when you wrote letters, you meant every little thing. he knew something happened between you and your ex, his name is like a slap in the face to you, and he could always notice.

his hands started to shake as he continued to read your note, he didn’t know how you came all the way to his house just to ring the door bell and drop it off. he was even shocked to notice his name in your handwriting on the top of the note. he wasn’t mad about it, he was just so, so sad. his eyes burned as another drop fell onto his lap. Jungkook knew it was for the best, but why does it hurt so bad and why does he feel like he’ll never get better while you do?

Jungkook didn’t want to think that way, but he did. he always did, he hurts to see you go but hurts even more to see you shine without him. he kept all your little notes in a box, he was really considering giving it back to you since it was at some of your most vulnerable times. he wouldn’t want to keep these just in case he snoops through them, like he’s doing right now as he was putting the other note in there along with the tons of others.

one of them wrote a song that you made about him, him never leaving you and the way you love him. it breaks his heart more, knowing that you’re no longer around, and that he just keeps fucking up.

when you wake up the next morning, your hungover member told you about a box she found outside the door step with your name on it, your ears ring as you stand in front of the box sitting on your bed, biting the inside of your cheek because this was Jungkook’s box. it had a polaroid of the two of you with shots in your hands on his balcony last summer. it was his favorite picture of you both and wanted to keep it with all the letters you even written him.

you pace around your room for like and hour, biting your lip and running your hand through your hair to calm yourself down. it finally felt like you guys were officially over, no matter how many times you’ve broken up. when you opened it finally, there was a new one, one you definitely didn’t write. you don’t even remember going to his house and giving him the one you were gonna keep for your sake.

it was Jungkook’s hand writing, you knew it from the back of your palm, literally as you have a tattoo that he gave you himself. it read,

forever

and looking at it makes you sick. you felt like crap anytime you thought of him, what you had put him through, all the stuff he doesn’t know about you. you knew him so well, but did he actually even know you, truly? it made you want to cry, the tears lining your waterline and you fight the urge.

you give yourself time before opening up his letter, preparing yourself for the worst or to cry. when you start reading it, you felt like he was there with you. it felt as if he was pacing around your room, looking you dead in the eyes and telling you everything you’ve been wanting to hear, but at the wrong time.

I miss you a lot, I know I say that a lot, but it’s true. I’m glad you wrote me this, I’m glad you’re trying to find ways to open up to me, I’m glad you love me. You are my everything, I want what’s best for you, and if it’s not me then so be it. You deserve the whole fucking world, and I hope you know I tried so hard to give it to you. Maybe, in the long run, we can be happy together. Maybe we can be able to know each other truly, I always wanted to. I believe in right person, wrong time, because you’ll forever be my person, even if i’m not in the picture. I love you, ______, I always will.

you wanted to sob, you didn’t even know what to do. you had dropped the note off not expecting anything back, but getting everything back? even a letter from him, confessing how much he loves and cares for you. you didn’t know how to feel, if it was closure or not. to you, yours was supposed to be. his, his was a love letter, you’ll never let go of it.

you had one more promotion for you group, and you had to prepare in so many ways. you had to practice tons, and practing handling your emotions until you’re a zombie to what you truly feel, you couldn’t handle being around Jungkook for long. it’s crazy, how much you used to look at him thinking you’d never do anything to hurt him, yet you’re over here making him suffer because you are in your head. it tears at the deepest parts of you, and it makes you feel so much at once.

so when it came to the event, you felt your knees lock when you saw him sitting with his team. he looked breathtaking, and it sucks that you can’t look at him for long before you cry because he looks too good. Jungkook always looked good, but whenever you wanted to ignore him, it’s like he knows and wants to look that fine. you gulp hard because walking to over your assigned seats, a couple seats back behind them but at an angle to a way that you can see every part of Jungkook, his hands and thighs especially.

ones that put you through hell, sent you to another universe is what he would of said and has said before, smoking off your balcony as you sat on his lap with your legs shaking trying to not fall off. he laughed as he smacked your thighs, watching them shake more as you practically whine in soreness.

he took another puff off his cig before putting it down on his designated ash tray, but even knowing you didn’t smoke, he kissed you hard, forcing the hot smoke into your mouth and through your pipes, allowing him to do anything to you because you were obsessed with everything he did.

“fucked you out, huh, princess?” he said against your ear as he gave you a second to breathe, making you almost choke as his hand started to move down and between your thighs, giving them a squeeze before going deep between them to touch you where you shook the most.

let’s just say, the memory had your legs close tightly together. the thought of how much have gave you that night, it made you miss him even more for just taking care of you like he said he would. you could feel it starting to stick against your skin, immediately wanting to go to the bathroom.

you thought you were stable enough to walk down the stairs in front of all the idols and fans including, instead you almost dropped face first into the steps instead someone’s hand wrapped around your waist and around the inside of your thigh, gripping it hard as they held you from falling to your death infront of thousands of people.

“your shoes too big for you, baby?”

you really thought you were going crazy, that his presence was just teasing you. but as your eyes dragged themselves down to the hand around the inside of your thigh, you weren’t going crazy. the tattoos proving who the man really was and how his thumb was very close to your throbbing clit. you shivered before quicking bowing at him once you leave his grip and speed walking towards the exit.

the moment you got alone in a hallway, you looked around before pulling out your phone to text your leader where you were going to be, the bathroom, before you hear a door open behind you. you go to put your phone away, but a tight grip around your waist turns you towards the person, your phone falling on to the floor and your mouth to open up, perfect for the attacker to kiss you hard.

another hand grabs your hair and you immediately knew who it was based on the way he was holding you. he knew, and knew it was because of him. that’s all your thought about when his lips were softly against yours, until you felt his hands creeping up. he just knew how to distract you from the facts and knows how to get you to enjoy his attack.

“can we talk soon, princess?” he whispers lowly in your ear once he pulls away from your now desperate lips trying to reach his. you whimper at the nickname, one that just rolls off his tongue in such a degrading way, he grabs your chin softly, turning your face to face him. his eyes invited yours, and the longer you looked into them, the more you felt entranced by him.

“talk about what?” you sighed into his hold, which he notices and gives you your favorite smile in the whole world. it hard to ignore his hands gripping your waist, your hands clinging onto his dress shirt as he holds you, you didn’t expect to be in this position.

“we will talk later tonight, i’ll pick you up?”

“how, with what car-”

“i’ll figure it out, anything for you,” he presses his forehead against yours, making your eyes squeeze shut as he lets out a little chuckle because of your reaction to his proximity being so close to you, you could almost feel his breath against your lips. “you know i’ll do whatever i need to do to see you, i will figure out a way to see you later tonight, bunny, i promise,” he kisses your nose softly before letting you go without your even realizing he picked up your phone for you, a smile across his face as you nodded your head for him.

Jungkook didn’t give you a time, or a place to when he was going to pick you up. before you left the event, you had asked him what he was planning on doing with you and he just told you that you’ll have to wait and find out. Jungkook knew how to make you worry about what could happen. what should you even wear? is he taking me somewhere to eat? it’s kinda late for that-

doink

something just hit your window as you were pulling your pants up, you almost tripped in shock but managed to pull them up and fix yourself before going to your window. there he was, the man of your dreams, the love of your life, standing down there searching for more rocks to toss at your window.

you cracked your dorm room window open, not even wanting to question how he managed to get over the brick wall to get into the dorms, and he smiles when he sees your head peaking from the bottom of the window. he pats his hands on his thighs while you watch him with curiosity.

“get down here bunny, we have a lot to do tonight,” he stood up straight, hands put in his pockets as he stared off at you. you would of jumped right there into his arms after that nickname, you almost whined before nodding your head like an idiot and shutting your window.

you managed to sneak out, grabbed your shoes at the front and headed out from the back blind spot and running to where Jungkook stood, his hands tucked in his pockets to stay warm. his left arm raised so you could wrap your arm around it, a habit of the both of you. you just ignored the bad feelings and wrapped your arm around his, feeling his arm tighten around yours as you both started to walk to the car.

“you gonna tell me where we’re going, Jeon?” you tilt your head, your left knee against his center console as your left side rested on his passenger seat. his hand slid up to your knee, leaving you in shock as he gripped it in warning.

“stop asking questions, baby,” he tapped his finger on your knee, not even bothering to look your way. you huffed as you closed your eyes, trying to ignore his thumb moving against your thigh now, his hand resting against it too.

“Jungkook, you know we can be doing this again. i know you remember what happened last time,” you warned, your head felt like it was spinning, none of this felt real. Jungkook bit his lip ring in thought, he just wanted to talk to you and apologize. he always wants to talk to you even if he’s been rude.

“______, what do you think i’m going to do to you tonight?” he spoke deeply, it sent waves through your spine, and down to your poor kitty. it’s crazy, what this big eyed man can do to you with only his hand on your thigh while he speaks to you like your his.

“i- i don’t know, what are you asking me? i’m just confused why you’re doing this-”

“what do you want me to do to you tonight, baby? is there something else bothering you that only i can fix?” his hand rubs your inner thigh, occasionally softly squeezing the skin closest to where you needed help the most. “i’ll do whatever you want me to do to you, you just have to speak up, darling. is that okay? can you do that for me, princess?”

you almost moaned, gasping at his eagerness to help you with whatever you want, and you knew he meant that. “Jungkook, we can’t be doing thing again, as much as we want to-”

“fuck that and fuck no contact, we were doing good as fuck the last time we were friends. can we not be friends, baby?”

“that’s why! you keep calling me my favorites, you can’t do that to me..” you whined, you wanted to hide away as he giggled at how you whined. when the car slowly starts to come to a stop, you got reminded that the whole time you were talking to him, getting teased by him, he was driving. “Jungkook… where are we?”

“let me help you out and show you,” he smiled, and you just knew that you had to trust him, why? because he’s Jeon Jungkook, why wouldn’t you trust the love of your life?

when he open your door, hand already reaching for his as he helped you out of the car, the smell of salt hit your face in a whiff, making you smile at the moment you had at this beach with Jungkook. but why here? why did he want to talk here?

you didn’t trust your voice, watching his open his back door to grab a blanket and cigs, which you thought he quit, with a lighter and a flashlight. you didn’t say a word as you hugged onto his arm as he walked to a specific place, your guys place. the place where he gave you head for the very first time, you found sand up there for at least a day after that.

“do you trust me, sugar?” Jungkook asked you, tugging you to sit next to him on the blanket over the cold sand at the dark lonely beach. it’s like he knew what you were worried about, could you trust him again? it’s not like he broke your trust, it’s about you trusting yourself around him. if anything besides talking happens tonight, and you guys become exactly what you were afraid of becoming, you won’t know what to do with yourself.

it’s a bit selfish you thought, as his hand rested against your shoulder as you snuggled against his neck, breathing in only Jungkook and a little bit of salt. you loved this, but it couldn’t get any farther than this. just small, and slight, touches and sometimes kisses, only at certain times. the sound of the waves crashing tingled your ears, debating if you should listen to his heartbeat or not.

“do you know why i want you out here with me tonight, baby?” his voice vibrated your cheek as he spoke, his fingers gliding against the thin fabric of your long sleeved shirt. you hummed, you felt him swallow before you moved your head to face him.

“i wouldn’t have asked you that a million times in the car, Jungkook,” he smiles when your eyes finally reach his. he used to ask you, what did you see when you looked into his eyes? you usually just laughed it off or ignored the question, but now you think you know the questions answer. Home. in other words, Jungkook was your confort, the one you would go to, the one who makes you feel the safest, the one who keeps you feeling warm. Jungkook was your favorite.

Jungkook leans in, you can almost feel his breath against the wind, you almost forget where you are when you look deeply into his eyes. he leans so close to you that you could almost kiss him. you feel his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer- and closer to him, until your hovering above him.

you looked down at him, his hand sliding down your waist and on to your thigh to swing your leg over his body. he’s got you now, almost spread wide for him as his eyes glazed your entire body, making your shiver.

“let’s that about why you were so wet when i caught you from eating shit in front of everyone today, huh? or maybe… why you’re so wet right now, was it from the car ride? you just couldn’t wait, hm? baby?” he smacked your thigh, and you almost whimper at his words, “sit down on me, love. you know you want to. i’ll do anything you want me to, just let me in this one or more times and you won’t regret it this time,”

oh boy, you were in for a ride. baby, princess, sugar, darling, bunny, love. hearing that one burned, deeply in two places. your poor heart as you feel his hands grip your sides, and your poor throbbing cunt that it about to get slammed onto his hard on resting below you. either or, you know you’re safe and whatever happens can be dealt with. why? because you’re with Jeon Jungkook, why wouldn’t it be fine?

a/n: holy shit, this took forever and i sincerely apologize!! i love how this episode turned out and i will give you guys a slight warning! spicy scenes are coming up and I’m not backing down from this. it will be the dirtiest, most greatest- yeah! anyways, thank you for your patience, i love you all🥹

taglist: @loumin908 @heartjiminie @cuntessaiii @parkinglot-nights @minsoa97kor @jkgirlfr @lavendersugarplum @gaebestie @whoa-jo @kp0pficdump @yunholuv @skzthinker @shwkoqp18 @veemegatron @kaiparkerwifes @alextgef @nerdycheol @nightappple @nlr1606 @chl0buggy

if your tag isn’t gray, please fix your settings so i can tag you next time love!

#hyukaslvr #writers on tumblr #kpop fyp #kpop writers #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook bts #bts x reader #bts smut #bts army #bts fic #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x fem!reader #bts x army #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #i love jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkoooook #kpop smut #kpop x reader

[delphoxqueen]

I swear every year I have to think “Hey, didn’t I have this weird fever dream where there was a rip-off of Ever After High but like with a fortieth of the budget, and the dolls barely existed, and Cinderella/Snow White/Sleeping Beauty were made into bimbos?

And then I look it up and nope- it’s real.

What is this??!??

What even are those FACES-

Anyway, back to forgetting this existed 8 years ago.

#fairy tales #fairy tale high #monsterhigh #monster high #ever after high #WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS #why?! #WHY DOES TINKER BELL HAVE OSTRICH LEGS #WHY DO THESE HAVE OUTFITS I WOULD MAKE IN MY STORIES WHEN I WAS LIKE TWELVE #also why are the animated outfits completely different from the dolls? #what is the lore? #are they the kids of fairy tales or what? #the actual fairy tale characters? #bitches who are just like “damn I’m in a Cinderella mood? #but what have they done to you Tink? #like descendants wasn’t my cup of tea but damn they look like masterpieces compared to this #worst part is these are probably like $5000 each just because no one liked them when they came out #WHY IS RAPUNZEL A FUCKING COUNTRY MUSIC STAR?! #WHY DOES BELLE LOOK LIKE SHE’s ABOUT TO MAKE A MEAN ‘I’m not like other girls’ post?! #why does tinker bell have wings but Ariel has legs? #why does only one girl wear a crown? #the AGGRESSIVE AMOUNT OF STRIPES I SWEAR #oddly enough I like Snow White’s hooker boots #this legit looks like a parody of girls toys #do NOT look up the Wish Factory pitch #it’s terrifying #WHY DID THEY MAKE FUCKING KITES?! #WHY SO MUCH EMPHASIS ON SWIMGEAR?

[hs-is-loml]

Another Pawn in Your Game. (c.s)

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Capitol!Reader

Summary: you felt betrayed by coriolanus and lucy gray's act in the capitol zoo. or coriolanus coaxes you into thinking what he did was okay.

Warnings: minor felix ravinstill x reader (one-sided). angst. manipulative snow who knows all the right words to say. they stay together in the end. UNEDITED

a/n: if you have seen my post about coriolanus before reading this, my stand does not change. and i am not trying to justify anything. that being said i do find him an interesting character to write for with his complexity!

masterlist

You couldn’t believe your eyes from the act that Coriolanus and Lucy Gray were pulling in front of Lucky Flickerman. Introducing her. Holding hands with a district. You felt eyes of pity land on you from around the table as you were with Arachne, Felix, and Clemensia.

“Did you know that he was going to do that?” Arachne hounded on you.

Clemensia added, “Is that not cheating?” 

“I wish I knew,” you scoffed, continuing to look at the screen of Coriolanus staring at Lucy Gray with ​​narrowed eyes. “He didn’t tell me anything.” 

“Maybe it’s time you realize you can do better than Snow,” Felix grinned while you all watched as the peacekeepers dragged away Coriolanus. “Always more options around…”

“Felix, I would love for you to say that to his face,” Clemensia snickered at his poor attempt at flirting.

“Oh, please. No one would ever dare,” Arachne rolled her eyes at the two and began to get up as the bell rang. 

You walked alongside the group with Felix on your side. You felt him place a hand on your back and leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Let me know when you get tired of him, will you?”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Y/n!” Sejanus called your name from behind the group, walking quickly to catch your arm before you walked through the doors while everyone headed in. “What was that with Felix?”

He held a concerned expression, and the grip on your upper arm began to tingle. “Sejanus,” you tried to move your arm and he finally took notice, dropping his hand and muttering apologies.

“I didn’t mean to grab you that hard. I’m sorry.”

Taking a deep breath in you explained to him, “Coryo wants to make a fool out of me. You saw what he did in the cage. Felix is simply taking his chance.”

After Doctor Gaul had left the room, you neglected Coriolanus’ attempts to have a word with you, and you continued to keep a conversation with Sejanus. You felt the irritation that radiated off his body when he noticed that you were purposely ignoring him.

“He looks like he is going to murder me if I keep talking to you, Y/n,” Sejanus quietly pointed out as he looked back and forth from you to Coriolanus. 

“He’s lucky if I don’t murder him for what he pulled,” the blank expression that was written across your face mildly scared Sejanus not knowing how you truly felt. 

“At least acknowledge him or something, Y/n,” he pushed.

“And why should I?”

“Because, because this is unlike you and Coryo,” he tried to explain but failed to give any valid reasoning to you.

You turned to your other side and looked at him with darting eyes, “Hello, Coriolanus,” you articulated the entirety of his name. It felt foreign on your tongue. 

He met you with perplexion at your sudden coldness, “Y/n/n. Dearest. What is the matter with you?” He knew that he had said or done something wrong as you gathered your things and went to Dean Highbottom to be excused. 

“How was your little songbird, Coriolanus?” Arachne teased and was aware you could still hear them before you walked out of the room. Livia continued, “Fragile, little thing she is. I do hope her death is rather quick.”

“She’s okay.”

“Did everyone hear that?” Arachne looked around the room to those who were interested in where she was taking this. “Coryo made sure his songbird is okay.”

 Coriolanus had no time for games as his mind wandered back to you, “Arachne. What is the point of all of this?” he snapped at her.

A smirk planted visibly across her face, “Is your Dearest okay, though?” she mocked him.

The realization was evident as it spread to his face. He looked over to Sejanus who avoided his stare by pretending he was focused on his paper instead. 

“Felix, you know he has no shame in going after you once he sees this,” you mentioned knowing the rather possessive tendencies that Coriolanus had to the boy who followed you out. 

Felix hid his nervousness with a chuckle, “What could he do? I’m the president’s son.”

“I’m just warning you,” you went through your bag to look for the rose Coriolanus had given to you this morning. 

“Y/n. You don’t deserve what he did to you,” he tried to reach out for your hand but you had pulled away before he had gotten the chance to. 

Having found the rose, you glanced around for a trash bin to toss it in, “Oh, believe me. I know.”

“Isn’t that one of the roses that Lucy Gray had in her hair earlier when we saw her on the screen?” Felix observed the rose in your hand and noticed it was the same pure white as the one that was in Lucy Gray’s hair. “Is that from him?” he made the connection with the frown you held.

“Yes.” 

He bellowed another laugh as he realized the Coriolanus was found in even more mistakes. “That bastard.”

Coriolanus was searching for you throughout the academy grounds once the bell had rung. He found no luck in finding you until he passed a hallway he had never seen you go into before, and there you were standing by a pillar with Felix Ravinstill standing too closely for Coriolanus’ comfort. Though he could tell that you had not reciprocated Felix’s intentions, it didn’t help the rising jealousy that was consuming his mind. 

For a moment, his vision was red as he saw Felix take his Grandma' am’s rose out of your hands. It had taken everything in him to not launch himself at Felix as he didn’t want to be convicted of murder before the Games even started. He was already in too far. 

Your head turned as you heard a call of your name from Coriolanus, “Y/n.” Through the tone of his voice, you knew he was not asking for you but rather commanding.

Before you started to make your way to him, Felix caught your hand and pulled you back for a moment whispering in your ear while making direct eye contact with Coriolanus, “Make him pay for it, yeah? And don’t forget my offer will always stand for you.” Coriolanus stood there with a tense jaw and flared nostrils as he watched.

Felix smirked at him, seeing you walk towards his direction but going pass him, “Come along, Coriolanus.” 

The silence was starting to get to the both of you as neither of you chose to speak a word before arriving in front of your house. Your parents rarely being home helped your situation because you figured that an argument was going to begin right as the door was closed behind you. 

That’s how it always was. The picture perfect couple in the public eye to keep appearances up than a cracked frame when it was just the two of you. 

“What was that about, Y/n?” he fumed the second the door was shut. You ignored him as you went to put your bag away in your room. “You cannot keep avoiding me here. And don’t think I am going to let go of what you did today.”

“What I did?” you talked baffled.

“You are making a joke out of us-”

“Is it fun for you?” you interrupted him, finally meeting his burning stare.

“Is what fun?” he gritted his teeth at the lack of specificity in your question.

You began to laugh maniacally and spat out, “Making a fool out of me. You already made me a laughing stock for everyone to see.”

 “Is this about-” he started but you didn’t give him a chance to finish.

“Of course, this is about her, Coriolanus!” you proclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you hold her hand? And for goodness sake, a district girl from 12 of all people! You are the one ruining us.”

“She is my tribute,” he defended.

“YOU GAVE HER A ROSE!” you yelled at him in frustration. “How do you not see a problem with that?”

“The rose is nothing compared to what you let Felix do today,” he said, enraged, taking steps closer to you, but your hand met his chest, keeping him at arm's length. “You are mine. Not his.”

“And what? She is also yours now too?” you closed your eyes as they welled with tears that you had tried to blink away. 

He moved your hand and grasped it as he stood in front of you. He cupped your cheek with his other hand and softened his tone, “She doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“And how am I supposed to trust your word?” you threw at him and saw a look of hurt flash on his face but it had left just as quick. “Everyone told me it was a mistake to be with you.”

“Do you believe it was?” he blanked, tightening his hold on your hand. 

“I do not know what to believe anymore.”

“It was an act. A farce. She needs to win,” he stroked your cheek with his thumb. “I need to win.”

Your body was tense with vexation and you spoke through clenched teeth, “Am I just another pawn in your game as well? The easiest one you can sacrifice?” It felt like your heart was ready to burst from out of your ribcage waiting for his answer. 

He brushed a piece of fallen hair away from your face and uttered, “No, you are My Queen.”

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #fanfic #angst #sejanus plinth #lucy gray baird #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow fic #president snow #young coriolanus snow #thg #the hunger games #coriolanus snow angst #coriolanus snow fluff

[netherfeildren]

Kiss, Kiss, Kill, Kill!

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel is a long haul truck driver. One day he finds a pretty girl in a diner and decides he’d like to keep her. 

Murder and sex ensue!

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No outbreak; Graphic depictions of violence; Murder; Blood; Gore; Threat of SA; Impotence; Unprotected sex; Creampie; Loss of virginity; Virginity kink; Breeding kink; Spit kink; Rough sex; Pussy slapping; Dark!Joel; Mean!Joel (also kinda crazy and pathetic); Obsessive behavior; Possessive behavior; Discussions of suicidal ideations; Unreliable narrators; Alcoholism; Consensual non consent kind of (But not previously discussed - they're both into it tho); Use of misogynistic language; Grief

A/N: Hi :) Another one just bc I have no self control. 

Parts of the narrative read a little disjointed and/or confusing. This is intentional. I was kind of trying something weird out here, I guess.

Word Count: 9.7K

Read on AO3

The first time Joel sees you, it’s a Thursday. His least hated day of the week, but not his favorite, for he doesn’t really have any favorite things anymore. Your eyes’d stunned him at that first look. They sparkled as if dusted with frost – speared him with an intensity that burned. 

But no… that was a lie, and Joel is trying not to be such a liar anymore. He does have one favorite thing now. This middle-of-nowhere diner, this place where’d he’d found you. 

The first time he’d actually talked to you, you’d interrupted his own stubborn, sour silence with a silence of your own. Different, agonizing, compared to your usual persistent fishing for his attention. 

“What’re you doin’ out here in this wasteland, sweetheart?” Because you look sweet as that cherry pie you’re always trying to push on him. 

“Been here my whole life.” It’s verging on evening, the sky gone to melancholy, and there’s a young girl with dark hair weeping on the shoulder of an older woman in the booth over. He wants to snap at her, demand to know what the fuck she could possibly have to cry over? He’s sure she mustn’t have a dead daughter like him, and so there really seems to be no reason for tears. 

“No plans to leave?”

You shake your head, hum a little, set the coffee pot down on the edge of the table to pop a hip out and think on your answer. “Guess you could say I’m a little bit weak or scared, don’t know.”

“Doubt that,” a surprised laugh forced out of him. Entirely improbable, he knows this just by looking at you. “You’ve got eyes that seem as if they’ve never held fear within them in your entire life.” And he makes you laugh at that, head thrown back, throat rippling. The sound like the tolling of the bell indicating the start of the rest of his life. 

When you’re done gifting him your laughter, you ask, “What about you? Why are you here?”

“My daughter died.” Plain. 

Your eyes seem to shutter or flicker, something like a chimera about them, “When?”

“Two years ago.” He watches the crying girl and the old woman get up to go. And then the two of you are alone. You move to sit in the booth across from him. He’d been coming in here to see you for more than half that time since, and now, the first time the two of you are having an actual conversation, and this is what he’s decided to open with. But really, it’s the only story he has to tell anymore. He watches you watch him for a long moment, as though you’re searching for something within him, or mulling over what it is you want to say to him, the shift of your jaw from side to side as you chew on your words. He feels easily frightened now – fragile – and yet vibrantly malignant, at the same time. A juxtaposition on two opposite ends of the spectrum of good and not so good, or perhaps, verging on very, terribly bad, in the grocery store line of human morality. Two Joel’s at the start and end of the queue who could not seem to come to terms with one another. Enemies – they were enemies of each other. A Joel who’d once had a daughter, and a Joel who now did not. A Joel who’d pulled a trigger at his own temple, and one who’d never even considered such a thing. He draws his finger along the line of scar tissue at his temple.

For a long time he’d wanted to tear a hole in his world and escape, but he was no master of inventiveness. On the contrary, he found his attempt rather miserly – had short changed himself at the last moment and flinched. But perhaps, it had been for this reason – for you, to find you. He wishes he could peer inside your mind, crack open your skull and read everything you’re hiding away from him inside there. A violent thought, but you make him feel slightly violent, or – no, that’s not it – for Joel is already a violent man. It’s more that you pull a specific hue of violence out of him, incite it, like he needs to move, to howl, to claw at something, at you, scream and scream and scream to keep your undivided attention on him forever. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you say finally, voice quiet. “How old was she?”

His loss. That was a funny way of putting it. It had never felt like a loss. The word was too small. Four letters was not enough to describe what it really was. There was no word for what it felt like. An emaciation of his very self until he simply ceased to exist. Something that had sucked his soul, his heart, his brain out of his body, but they didnt feel lost. They felt destroyed, decimated, or like they had never existed. Sometimes the feeling left him confused, disoriented – this strange purgatory he’d been relegated to, it was like it had never happened in his mind sometimes, or like it had happened to a different man. Like that life with that beautiful little girl with the green eyes who’d had a father who loved her, who’d then died, had happened to someone else. Someone who wasn’t Joel. Like a war that had raged and raged for centuries, and now nothing was left in its wake. Only that terribly fraught reminder of a violence too grotesque for a human mind to conceive. 

How could he miss something, wish for something so, so, so fucking desperately he’d peel his very skin from his body himself to get it back, but also feel like it didn’t belong to him anymore? Like it had never happened to him, like he remembered it out of his own body? A dream that belonged to someone else, and Joel’d only been told of it second hand. His mind was fractured now, he knew this. He wasn't right – broken or glued together the wrong way. His bones didn’t fit in his joints the way they were supposed to anymore. He was all wrong and ugly and fucked. 

“She was twelve.”

“My whole family’s dead,” you say it almost casually, with a half shrug of your shoulders. “Is that why you started driving? To get away?”

He’s been a long haul truck driver for going on two years now. Started just after Sarah – needed to get away, to get lost. He didn’t enjoy it – he does not enjoy it. Not because the work is bad or boring or what have you, but because he doesn’t enjoy anything anymore. But it’s productive and pays well and… well, he does appreciate the solitude. There is that, at least. He’d been on the route from New Mexico to Washington for several months now, and it was fine. Occasionally, he’d head up to the Dakotas – not so fine, longer, harder trek, but he managed it. He preferred this one, preferred the darkness of the north west corner of the country. He never went further south than New Mexico, though. Absolutely never into Texas. He’d never go back there again. 

“Sure… to get away.” He couldn’t be there anymore afterwards, had nothing left. “My neighbor, Anna, she’s got a teenager, Ellie. Sweet kid. Weird kid,” he laughs fondly, remembering the two of them. “The kid was friends with my daughter, Sarah. And after everything– well, after everything, Anna made sure they both stuck around. Didn’t let me shut myself away the way I wanted to,” ill-shaven recluse, confused, fractured, “They’re good people. You’d like them, I think. They’re… they’re my friends.” They were another reason he kept doing the driving, he liked to send money back to Anna and Ellie. He knew they didn’t need it, didn’t want it, but he had to. He needed to feel like he was still taking care of someone, contributing to someone’s well being. It was just part of who he was. 

“I’m sure I would.”

He watches your silent enrapture as you listen to him tell you of his pseudo life. After a while he’d realized that was all he’d started doing, making his way back to you, to this diner where you work. A sad place for ugly men to stop in on a pause from their interminable journeys and lay eyes on an angel. He hadn’t even really realized that’s what he was purposely doing or that it’d become a pattern. He just needed something to see at the end of the tunnel, a light to look towards when he was lost in the darkness. That’s what you are, a single flickering light in the abyss of darkness he exists in now. 

You’re small – tiny compared to Joel’s own hulking size. He thinks he could break you, easily, if he isn’t careful, if he so felt like it. And you were – you are so fucking pretty. He thinks of you so often. Almost as often as he thinks of his dead daughter which might seem wrong or strange, but it’s really nothing more than the two opposite ends of a spectrum of perfect beauty that he’s known within his lifetime that now he cannot reach either end of. Sarah – dead, forever out of reach. And you. Too perfect for consideration, too beautiful and good for these monstrous hands of his. The thing he’s become in his grief is not worthy of a gorgeous creature like you. His existence post Sarah’s death had become some sort of apocalyptic dysphoria where the only monster here was Joel. But he does like to watch, and he does like to think of you. To come to your diner and sit and watch you serve coffee to your customers – the scum that muddles through here isn’t worthy of laying eyes on you – men like him. Sometimes, when he sits here silently, pretending to ignore you and not be entirely beguiled by you, he feels as if he has a purpose again, like the money for Anna and Ellie, getting to inconspicuously watch over you, make sure no one gives you a hard time gives him purpose. And when he goes, even though he never really wants to, he takes you with him in his mind through the long stretches of his hauls. When there are nothing but ghosts to keep him company. When thoughts of Sarah and that dead life become too overwhelming, he calls you to mind, plans his routes to make his way back to you. 

You’re also fucking persistent – not giving him the chance to wallow away in his silence and brooding. He was rude at first, gruff and unresponsive and wouldn’t ever acknowledge your queries of, How’s it going today, and, Oh, back again I see. Sometimes he wanted to snap and just spit the truth at you, ‘course, I’m fuckin’ back, I’m here to see you, I’m obsessed with you. And rounds and rounds of, Can I get you another cup of coffee? The same as usual? You’d memorized his order. Pestered and pestered and pestered for his name until he’d finally ceded it to you, and, How ‘bout some cherry pie this time? After a while you’d gotten sick of his recalcitrant bullshit and just dropped off the piece of pie, slipping it onto the edge of the table and sliding away without a word or a half look back at him. He’d eaten the whole damn thing, savored it, and caught your sassy, little smirk after he’d finished. He’d wanted to bend you over the counter and spank your ass until you cried after that. He bets you’d taste as sweet as that pie, that if he slapped your cunt enough times he could get it red as a cherry. He bets you’d like that – that you’d like it a little rough, a little dirty, a little mean. You might look like an angel, but Joel’s seen the way you look at him, the way you follow him with your eyes, leaning against the counter, chin cupped in your small palm watching him eat his eggs and drink his coffee. 

You want him. 

But Joel is frightened – frightened and cowardly and not right, and as much as you look like an angel, he also worries you might have the ability to entice him into very, very bad things – to provoke him into depravity, even. There is a part of him, large or small given the day and the mood and the weather that he walks in here on, that has the rotten half of his mind whispering at the not-so-rotten half that he wants to defile and debase you, and that he’s pretty sure you’d like it if he did. He wants to fuck you full of his come and then watch it leak out of your used, gaping hole. Then he wants to lick you clean, kiss it all better so that he can do it all over again.

The first few times he’d stopped at your diner, he’d pretended he hadn’t even noticed you, would lie to himself in his mind and tell himself that he had no interest in a little thing like you. He had no interest in women, in making connections, in having conversations. Occasionally… well– no, not occasionally. Twice, it had happened twice now, when the urge had struck, the itch had become too persistent, and his hand not enough, he’d gotten a hooker. The first time he’d shut down completely, lost his hard on and not been able to finish. The second time… he’d finished. He might’ve even made the woman come, he hadn’t bothered to ask, but he thought he might have. Then he’d gone back to his truck and cried great heaving sobs. Like he’d said… not right, he wasn’t right anymore. Couldn’t even fuck a whore without blubbering like a baby. He’d wondered if perhaps his grief had made him impotent. That’d be funny. That type of funny thing that is also a humiliation… you know the sort?

But after a while, the lie had become too much of a farce, even for his own mind. He knew, from that first moment he’d walked in, and you’d spun around, a bright smile and chirpy, little voice telling him to sit anywhere you’d like, be right with you, mister, that he’d taken notice. More than notice. He’d put you in his pocket that day and had carried you with him in some way since. Like a stone chosen off the beach, washed up by the tide and deposited in the sand just for him to come across, or maybe like a fucking infection, like the plague, for he did not want this. He did not want to think of you. He did not want to think of anyone or anything. He wanted to be alone and without anything or anyone for the rest of his life. If he did not have anyone, if he remained alone, then he could never again experience that loss which was not truly a loss, but something much worse and devastating, and even, perhaps, a little hilarious, in that way that a hilarious thing can also sometimes be humiliating and shameful… there it is. A loss that is not a loss for it is a thing so devastating it becomes something else entirely. A humiliation to one’s very existence, a decimation, emaciation, all the things, all the things, and nothing at the same time.

His mind was wont to ramblings, on occasion now. Perhaps, incoherence, was the better word. Anxiety, as well, panic, tears. Couldn’t even fuck a hooker without weeping, howling, a few sobs. 

He had wandered so far, and sometimes he thought, I want to go home, but of course, that home no longer existed. It had been put in the ground two years ago and lost forever. The dissatisfaction of constant ennui. He could, perhaps, return to the geographical place, but nothing familiar would remain. He couldn’t live with the memory, he couldn’t live away from it. It was like it had simply ceased to exist that day that she’d died, and every moment since that moment was just a series of moments filled with a yearning for some place that no longer existed. He didn’t think he’d ever again feel at home anywhere.

And yet…

He turns back to look at you. 

“How did they die? Your family.”

“Home invasion – murdered. He never found me, hid in the boiler closet.”

“Little rabbit.”

“Hmm,” a huff of a laugh, “Maybe. Someone once said I was lucky. Pretty fucked up, no?”

“Do you feel lucky?”

“Never. Angry – that I’d been left behind.”

“Yeah…”

“Alone.”

“Are you alone?”

You turn back to him. Inspect him. He watches the slant of your eyes take in his hair, his face, wrinkled, haggard, his chest, his arms – he feels a flush flare beneath his ribs, then back up to his eyes. He wonders if you’ve ever been fucked before. You’re young – but he can’t imagine how you wouldn’t have been. He thinks he’d do anything in this moment to get between your thighs, but also, he hopes you haven’t, hopes you could be all his, only his, his his. Mine. 

He hopes he won’t cry if he gets the chance. 

“Entirely,” you say finally. 

“I had– have– ” shakes his head, “I have, I guess, a brother. Tommy. But the last time I saw him… I was horrible.” They seldom saw each other now – lie – they never saw each other now. Truth, Joel. We’re telling the truth now. 

You laugh lightly, shrug, “Happens.”

“Sure…”

“What’d you do to him?”

“Ah, just couldn’t get a handle on myself after everything. Things got bad enough eventually, and we fought… a lot. Violently. I was violent. One morning I got out of hand, terrible – one of my biggest regrets. We hurt each other with our words and our fists, and in that way only two people who know each other too well can. He cracked my ribs, gave me half his orange in the evening, afterwards – said our apologies. He was gone the next day. Haven’t heard from him since. I just got to be too much for him,” he says again, needs to reiterate it, make sure you understand that he is too much and too dark, too unmanageable – ugly. That you should not be sat here with him. That he has a violence within him, and that you should probably run as fast and as far as you can, but that he cannot promise he will not follow. “I had…” he is ashamed of this part, surprising for he sometimes wonders if he still possesses the heart to feel shame, “I had a problem with drink for a while – not anymore, though,” he says quickly. “I promise, not anymore.” He should not be promising you anything. “I got control of it – knew it was making it all worse rather than better. Felt like I was trapped underwater with my damn ghosts – that … What's that thing called when – when sick people get like – like trapped inside themselves or somethin’? You ever heard’a that?”

-

“Locked-in syndrome.”

“Yeah– yeah. I read about that once or heard it somewhere – that’s what it felt like when I was drinkin’ – fuckin’ terrible. Let it go after a while… but by that time… Tommy was gone, done with me. I was – dunno… like some sort of demon or somethin’ – somethin’ bad.” He huffs a small, derisive laugh, looks at you with that ridiculously charming, crooked half smile. 

That laugh sparks a kindling of anger inside of you for him. This is a broken, angry, creature of a man, you think. Something fractured – not whole, and he must be handled with care and gentleness. “How could he just leave you?

“Didn't give him a choice. Sometimes people deserve to be left.”

“I wouldn’t have.” That sobers him, wipes the smile right off his handsome face. You think of the invisible giants hurting this man in some unimaginable fashion; of the endless tenderness coiled up inside of him and how the crushing of that tenderness – the death of it – has given way to what may be considered madness. Because after all these months of watching him, of him watching you, you can see it, recognize that tenderness for what it is, but also the madness, for it is impossible to ignore if you’re really looking. Soft marrow at the center of a hard man. 

“I did other things… worse things.”

“Try me.”

“I tried to kill myself.”

You whistle, long and low. You actually had not been expecting that one, at least, not the admittance of it, “You’re just full of truths,” for looking at him – the sort of man he’s built as, the thought that he could be felled by anything, even his own hand, is a little hard to believe. 

“Feels like a sort of confessional in this–”

“Shithole–”

“Diner–”

Your voices overlap. You both laugh. You think you quite like the sound of your voices intermingling one on top of the other. 

“What happened?”

“Flinched–”

“I flinch all the time.”

“Have you ever thought about killing yourself?”

You hum, tilt your head side to side on your neck as if you’re letting the thought slide from ear to ear within your skull. “Perhaps only the peripheral idea of it, but never with much imagination or dedication. I don’t think I have that much to kill myself over, you know?”

“Your family?”

“Not really – it’s sort of become just this… this thing that happened once. I don’t feel much ownership over it anymore. Don’t know why, exactly.”

“Sure, that’s how I feel about it sometimes too. That belongs to a different man now – like– like some actor or a facsimile, and I just look in on it as if from a distance. Enjoy the sight of someone else's suffering…” He shakes his head, “That doesn’t make sense.”

“No, no, I understand. Something to do in the way that a tragedy can be compelling to watch. You can let go, let go of your awareness of yourself and experience it in a way you’d never do so in the present moment.”

“A dissociation.”

“Yes. Why would you want to go and relive the basest parts of yourself all alone, over and over again? Not likely.”

“But it was me.”

“A dissociation,” you repeat, smile. 

“Yeah,” he pauses, turns the coffee cup round and round with the slow spin of his wrist as if to dissolve the remains of the grounds you know the shitty machine has left deposited at the bottom. There is a small dusting of golden brown hair covering his wrist and disappearing up his forearm beneath his flannel. You want to taste it, follow the trail to places unknown. “Not so well adjusted, us two,” And he laughs then. A real laugh. He lets you have a real laugh of his, and it is powerful – special. 

“Well… no.” Of course not. “I don’t think either of us could ever claim that.”

“Bet you’ve never been bad a single day in your life, have you?”

You cock your head, let your eyes slide from him to peer out the dark window. His lonely semi is parked under the single flare of light out there. The evening has sunk into a deep blue, the hue of mourning, of melancholy, and the pavement is wet with evening rainfall.

You'd heard that some trucks had spaces behind the seats where truckers could put a bed, have a place to rest. You wonder if he’ll take you back there and fuck you in his little bunk. And honesty is a fickle thing when discussing a topic like this, isn't it? There’s a depravity about him, and you can’t tell if the truth or the lie would placate him – incite him – more. To be similar in such a way as that which he’s imagining. A little bit of both, then. After all, intent holds weight – imagination, desire, it has a mass to it that can, if enough pressure is exerted upon it, be transformed into something else. 

“Not yet,” you tell him, sliding your gaze back to meet his, “Haven’t had a chance – but there’s still time.”

-

“What would you like to do?” He wants to take a bite out of that soft flesh you’re encased in, draw blood.

“Something depraved?” You’re taunting him – trying to provoke. It makes him slightly angry, but also hard. You should know what it is you’re toying with here. 

He frowns at you, at the lilting song of your words trying to beguile him into doing whatever it is you think you want him to do to you. “What is it that you think you want here? You don’t know what I was, how I lived. Shouldn’t be sat here with me, little girl,” he scoffs. “I was– was not– I don’t fucking know, not a man. I’m not, I’m not. Not a person anymore, just this thing that continues to exist. I should not have been expected to survive. This should mean something to you too. You also have no one. You’re alone too. You’re alone in the world. You know what it feels like to only live in the winter.”

You’re quiet for a long moment, and then you say: “I think I’ve come to quite like the winter.” And at that he knows he’s taking you for himself, whether you agree in the end or not. You’re going to be his. 

But he knows he must also let this roiling anger, this depraved hunger settle before he lays hands on you. Like this, in this state, he’d be too rough, break you, nothing compunctious about him or his jaggedness. He excuses himself for a smoke, your only response simply more of that inciting silence – more thoughts of cracked skulls and a cherry red cunt and tears after failed trysts with someone who doesn’t even know his name. He’s fucking embarrassing. What would Tommy say if he knew Joel couldn’t even get it up for a paid fuck anymore? He’d laugh in his face, never let him live it down. He misses his brother very much. He misses lots of things. 

He’s sucking on his Red under the awning of the diner’s entrance, imagining what it’ll be like to suck on your little clit, when he hears them. 

“She’s usually out about midnight. We’ll snag her then.” Grating, guttural voice.

“But I get to fuck ‘er first. This was my idea so I go first.”

“Yeah, whatever. S’only happenin’ ‘cause of me. Too fuckin’ stupid to see the plan through after all these months of watchin’ ‘er.”

“Fuck off.” Silence, and then almost with giddy elation: “We gonna kill her too?” Something cold and terrifying settles within Joel. 

A beat, “Should we?”

“Dunno, man. Might be fun, huh? Never done it before.”

“She’s fuckin’ pretty,” the voice draws the vowel out in a high pitched, sacharine whine. “Got the face of an angel.” Joel’s angel, his, his, only his.

He’s got his Bowie in a sheath on the back of his belt. Perhaps, this would be a useful exercise in release. After he’s dispelled his excess energy he can come back and touch you, take you. 

“Can’t wait to taste that cunt.” His cunt.

“Seen her tits, man? Fucking round and bouncy. Wanna make ‘em bleed.” And there’s only one avenue of consequence after that. After all, this is not the first time Joel’s done this. 

His most well kept secret.

Sometimes, when the itch cannot be eased, abated, by his hand or a fuck or a drink or any of the other readily available vices, he turns to this. Only when the straits were dire. Only when he saw no other recourse. Only after his daughter was dead and in the ground and his brother gone away from him

. 

But sometimes… sometimes it’s just fun. Sometimes it’s useful for a man to do that thing that he really feels he wants to do, if only to enjoy himself, if only to let go of some of that suffocating tension. If only to keep vermin like this away from an angel like you. 

“We’ll chill in the woods for a while, wait the little thing out, yeah?” Joel edges his way towards the edge of the building closer to them, peeks a lone eye around the corner. Two men, middle aged. Not a problem. Not for a man like him. 

He waits for them to make their way to the edge of the tree-line, watches them disappear into the gloom. He looks back into the diner through the murky windows. The warm glow of the overhead lamps washing you in a hue of golden light that brings out all the warm goodness in you he’ll take for himself once he’s snuffed out this issue. 

No one’s going to touch you but him. No one’s going to hurt you but him. 

As he rounds the corner of the diner there’s a piece of metal pipe propped up against the building by the dumpsters. Very nice. 

He goes after them. 

At the edge of the tree-line, under a swaying, low hanging branch, there is a tiny unfledged bird, helplessly twitching its way towards death in a puddle. He pauses to watch its struggle, gathers his skin about him, tightens his seams – prepares to gorge. He watches the inch by inch pilgrimage towards its last breath, then stillness. He feels so much older than his years, like he’s lived a thousand terrible years, watched a thousand terrible deaths. But there is a buoyancy about him, as well. Filled with a saccharine sweet fizz of sticky anticipation. He’s going to taste your cunt after this is done.

 He moves into the gloom. He’s going to kill them for you, and his cock is hard at the thought.

Stepping beneath the canopy of the trees, into that cold, damp darkness, he sees the absolute truth of the world. On the heels of two men who’d do you harm, he knows that he’d failed to save someone he cared about once, he’d not be bested by failure a second time. Darkness implacable, the crushing black vacuum of their overheard words buzzing in his head like flies, of the harm they’d do you. Two hunted animals moving away from a creature much darker than they could even imagine, scurrying on borrowed time. What most moves him is that the things they’d do to you are not so dissimilar to the things he plans to do to you, as well. The only difference being that after he’s done defiling you, he’ll keep you for himself, with all the care and gentleness a little thing like you so deserves. 

-

You press your ear to the cracked open door leading to the back of the building. It’s not the first time those two’ve talked their filth regarding you. The murdering is new, though. You’d not thought they were smart or inventive enough to come up with an actual kill plot. Rape enough of a hardball for minds as shallow and small as those two’ve got. 

You’d never really considered them much of a threat. Or maybe you’d just never really cared enough to pay them much attention. But as you watch the broad, rippling expanse of Joel’s muscled back stalk after them, his pause at the tree-line to look down at something on the ground, you think he must be more in the vein of taking a stupid man’s shit talk to heart than you’ve ever been. 

He has a thick, forearms-length of steel pipe gripped in his huge fist, and there’s a wicked looking knife strapped to his belt on the back of his hip. 

Interesting. 

You look back at the empty diner, the lonely parking lot beyond the glass of the windows, only Joel’s semi still taking up residence on the wet pavement. You turn back to follow after the three men. 

One you want, two you’re interested to see what fate awaits them.

For some reason, when you step outside, you’re expecting there to be snow on the ground, but there is none.  

You move across the pavement towards the forest-line, and the pilgrimage towards the verdant darkness feels very much like your one-way ticket out of this forlornness you’ve been trapped in your whole life. You’ve been stuck in this small town for so long, for too long. One man had already tried to forcibly evict you, had taken your entire family with him, maybe this one, maybe Joel, would do so in a way you’d more likely enjoy. 

There’s been a steady, faint drizzle all day long, and the puddles of rain look like holes in the dark pavement, apertures into some other realm that glide past underground. You wonder if you stepped through if you’d disappear below into some other place. You wonder if he’d be able to find you even in that unknown other. 

You cross the line into darkness. 

The familiar terror of silence – you don’t seem to find it here. There is only the sound of your rushing blood, the cadence of his voice rumbling through your psyche, firing your neurons up into a frenzy. There is a twisting heat low in your pelvis, dampness between your thighs. What’s he going to do? Why’s he going to do it?Is it for me? Is it for me? It’s for you.

You let out a low whistle between your teeth and move beyond the trees. There is a giddiness about the darkness of the wood – the motley of shadows, the aroma of mushroom rot. 

The familiar terror of silence. Perhaps, that is what they are experiencing now. The great horror of being set upon by a beast more terrifying than anything they could have ever conjured up on their own. 

That infinite tenderness from before, that acute madness – it coalesces in the gap in the trees as you come upon the three men. 

Joel has already started on the first. He murders almost tenderly. With great care, but infused with an aroma of agitated frenzy that seems flavored in the same notes of erotic buzzing that hums beneath your own skin. There is blood and viscera splattered on his face and clothes, in his hair. That great hunting knife embedded in the throat of the first man. The body lays facing you now, eyes open, shocked at his own death. Funny. Perhaps, that’s how they would have liked you to have ended up once they were through with you. 

Oh, how the tune changes when the monster is on your side. 

What are you? Be a creature. Be a creature. Be a creature!

You take Joel in. Thick, massive frame. You love his hair, it was one of the first things you’d noticed, thick dark curls streaked with the silver veins of his age and experience. Something that promised of care and knowledge and patience. His patchy beard with the heart shaped gap in it, you’re going to write your name into that space. His powerful arms, muscles coiled tight, his shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders as he brings the steel pipe up above his head, pauses to look down at his next victim. 

“We won’t bother her anymore, never again – p– please, please, I swear,” the man on the ground begs and cries. There are tears and snot bubbling down his ruddy, pocketed face. 

Joel is silent and terrifying and glorious above him, and then a small nod: “That’s alright… I believe you.” The metal comes down in a whistling arc, makes contact. 

Flesh and blood splatter, the sound of it is pulpy and wet and vindicating. He starts with the man’s knees, then his head, caved in like the shell of an egg, the yolk spilling out like vermilion drool. 

He heaves silently above the man that would have done you harm. Makes the threat go away. 

You step forward, cunt pulsing and wet and eager for him. When he’s gotten his fill of bludgeoning he turns slowly back towards you, as if he’d known the entire time that you’d been stood there watching. 

And the look on his face, it makes something electrifying and sticky buzz up your spine and ooze down your veins. You shift back on your heels

He shakes his head, his eyes are huge, pupils blown wide. “Don’t run,” he says slowly. If you hadn’t just watched him murder two men in cold blood – no, in your defense, he saved you, he protected you, fizzy heart full of satisfaction – you’d say he almost looks a little doe eyed. 

A hollow pounding begins in his heart, as if it had remained silent for the past two years and was only now taking notice of its own silence. His cock, hard enough to burst, angry and throbbing beneath the confines of his blood soaked jeans. Fuck this scum laying on the ground beside him, look at what he has infront of him. Nothing else matters but you. A goddamned angel. Damned for he’s found you now and nothing good can come of this. He takes a step towards you, and you match him with one backwards, away from him, his blood starts to howl in his veins. Different to the humming frenzy that had filled him as he did his murdering. This is hot and viscous and ravenous, and he knows he’ll get to keep his catch once he’s gorged himself on it. He knows he’ll get to keep you once he’s caught you. 

You take two more nervous little, quick steps away from him. Your eyes are slightly manic, face flushed, frame jittery, excited. A rabbit that knows it’s about to be caught. He watches the pause of your limbs as they fill with coiled energy, getting ready to make the bound and leap towards escape. He lunges, goes in for the kill, teeth bared, talons  brandished. 

Faster than you can even comprehend, he lunges, takes you to the ground with one massive, powerful shoulder to the vulnerable, soft of your belly, one huge paw cradled at the back of your skull to protect you from the hard ground. Your spine hits the cold, wet earth, the breath knocked out of you. You think you let out an animal noise, high pitched and supplicant. A thing that knows it’s been caught and is soon to be devoured. Your limbs scramble against the dirt, heels digging into the ground for purchase, you feel the loss of one of your shoes, as you try to get away or to crawl closer, who can be sure. A spider caught in the web or a larger, hungrier arachnid. He sets the huge heaviness of his muscular weight over your much smaller frame, one strong hand caged around the column of your throat, the other pushing your chest into the earth as he shoves his hips into the cradle of your own, forcing your thighs apart and your skirt to pool at your waist. You feel the stretch of the center plaque of your tights as his wide breadth settles between your legs, making room to take you for himself. You bring your own hands up to the wrist holding your throat and dig your nails into the skin there. You can feel the light smattering of hair covering his forearm beneath your soft palms, the cold, wet dirt beneath you, the searing stretch of the inner muscles of your thighs spread wide for him, the damp of the air surrounding the two of you. He leans forwards, pressing you down into the ground, and you have the fleeting thought that you want to transfuse yourself into the earth, into him. 

He pauses then to look down at you, appreciating the gloriousness of his catch. “Caught ya.” And he’s filled with an exuberance, a sort of victory. Look at what he’s snared – all for himself. 

You try and struggle again, if only to see the flare of annoyance in his eyes. It makes your cunt tight and achy. Even more than it already is. There’s a part of you that thinks you want him slightly angry – rough or mean. That you might like it even more if it hurts. Be kind enough to be cruel about it, you want to beg him. He leans forward to press his nose to your cheek, drags the cold vermillioned flush of it along your jaw, down the line of your throat, bites harsh and painful at your collarbone then over the peak of your breast. 

“Are you a virgin?” He whispers into your skin. It sounds very much like a threat. 

“Yes.”

“Saved this cunt all for me.” And it is not a question. Yes, you moan anyways. Let him know. Let him know that this defiling is a gift you’re granting him. He sits up on his haunches between your thighs, his hands sliding down to press on your lower belly and digs his fingers into the center of your tights and pulls, ripping a hold in them for his pillaging. You try and press your knees shut at the feel of the frigid air on your sensitive inner thighs, dig your nails into the ground above your head to try and drag yourself away from him. 

He digs his own fingers harshly into your flesh, his nails biting painfully into the soft skin of your thighs and ass and brings you back towards him. There’ll be streaks of pain left in his wake after this. Bad little rabbit. He smacks the inside of your thigh, watches the smooth flesh ripple for him. You let out a warbled, angry screech, little nails still trying to claw yourself away from him. He laughs then, a little mean, condescending. “Fight harder, little baby. This is pretty pathetic.” He rips your thighs apart, keep your fuckin’ legs open for me, his hands slick with the blood of his victims slide up the back of your thighs, anchoring his palms beneath the damp creases of your knees to press you open and wide for him, slaps your cunt, hard, over the soaking gusset of your panties. 

“Who the fuck’re you wearin’ this tiny little thong for?” he growls. It’s white lace, with a sweet, little pink bow adorning the front. “Me? Wrapped yourself up all nice and pretty for me?” Your little foot sneaks up under his armpit and tries to push with, what he’s sure is all your valiant might, at his chest, trying to unseat him from his conquering position above you, but he takes your ankle in a vice like grip, bites harshly into the meat of your calf so that an animal squeal of pain is clawed out of your throat at the same time that he slots his fingers under the damp center of your panties. “Sing as loud as you want, sweetheart. No one’s gonna hear you out here.” He can feel the soaking wet seam of your cunt against the backs of his knuckles, and he rips them clean off you. The sound of the last remaining barrier of protection of your cunt against his ravaging being decimated has you going shock still – prey that knows it’s caught and has decided to give up. Good, this is how he wants you. Your big, wet eyes look up at him as he flings the lace towards the still steaming dead bodies. That’s all they’ll get of you. The rest is only his. Mine, mine, fucking mine. 

You let your arms go limp above your head, soft and pliant and ready for ravaging, melting into the earth.

He presses your knees back and up, letting the red blossom of your wet cunt bloom for him. It’s slick and swollen, and he knows when he shoves his cock inside it’ll be burning hot. “Look at this gorgeous virgin pussy, baby. All for me. Only for me…” he murmurs, hypnotized, mesmerized. He drags the back of his knuckles over your slit, uses his thumbs to spread your lips apart, admires the swollen nub of your clit. You’re just as hungry for him as he is for you. Messy, eager little whore. He moves to undo his belt and free his aching length. Huge and brutish, thick veins pulsing just beneath the thin skin. He’s going to split you in half, break you, mold you in his image. 

He spits right onto your soaked folds, watches the thick glob of saliva slide down to mingle with your own leaking slick. He’s not even going to make you come first. Little virgin cunt and he’s not going to even bother getting you ready – just gonna shove the whole, unforgiving length of himself inside of you. Force you to take it. He fists his thick fist around himself, jacks his cock once, twice, squeezing at the bulbous head so that a trickle of precum seeps out of the slit. He presses his head to your clit, slides down to give you a small threat of pressure at your opening. When he looks back up at your face your eyes flutter shut, a look of pure contented submission washing over the gorgeous planes of you. 

“Not gonna be gentle, baby. Don’t got it in me.” He notches the fat head at the slick mouth of your entrance and crams his cock inside of you in one go, meets that thin barrier that says you still belong to yourself and rips through it. Mine now. No reprieve, no respite. And God, the feel of it, cleaved in half, scorching hot, filled to the brim and never deep enough. He is a rabid, snarling beast of a man as he hits the very end of you, grinds his cockhead at the mouth of your womb. You let out a warbled, pained moan, little fingers coming up to claw at his throat and chest with kitten-strength, down to dig into his thick thighs as he pins you down, and you tilt your hips to let him in deeper or escape him, he doesn't know. He doesn't care. He pulls his hips back and forces himself back in, too thick cock wedged into the too tight space. “Christ, goddamn tight fuckin’ pussy – made for me,” he grits through bared teeth.

He fucks you raw and cruel, and he needs you to just lay limp and still and take it.

And you do. And he does not cry this time. 

He sets a brutal pace, throbs deep in your belly at every pause as he grinds at your cervix. It must be painful for you, perhaps, but the flush in your cheeks, the fever in your eyes, the ripple of your cunt around his driving length tells him you also like it. “What a good girl, taking my big cock,” he coos. You preen, tilt your hips this time in supplication he’s sure, hitch your feet higher along his sides. There are tears running back down your temples and into your hairline. His cock makes you cry. If he could, he’d split your throat and drink, he would. But he cannot, so he’ll split your cunt instead. He thrusts into the hilt, complete negligence for care, for gentleness lost in the dark wood, for the desperate necessity of feeling your virgins blood coating his cock. Your protestations lost to the louder song for more, for harder, for deeper

Joel, Joel, Joel. 

He’s going to listen to you sing his name for the rest of his life. 

He feels unhinged, a thread picked at too many times, spun loose, unraveled and frayed. That edge that separates good and evil – his bloody fingers clamp down hard on the edge of your jaw, forces you to open for him, and he spits into your mouth – direct, dirty … warm. “Lemme see…” he rumbles, and you stick your tongue out for his inspection. Once he nods, pleased and smug and conquering, you close and rub the slick of his saliva onto the roof of your mouth with your tongue, savor the taste of him. This was the taste that you’d longed for… that which teaches you what that professed edge really is. Is he good, is he evil – he’d just killed two men, you’d watched him, cunt wet at the sight of it. Albeit to protect you… sure – but does it even matter? You swallow his spit down. Probably not. 

He is huge and life altering inside of you. Your virginity scoured away on his invading length. 

He leans forward, hand clamped around your jaw to pierce you with his manic gaze, like his cock pierces your cunt. He smells like the forest and sweat and power. “Little fuckin’ tease,” he grits, “Bringing me cherry pie like that all the time – fuckin’ provoking me. You just wanted me to pop your cherry for you. Didn’t you, little girl?” All you can do is nod dumbly and take what he gives you. He hooks one of your knees over his elbow, the other propped over his shoulder, foot bobbing limply at each slam of his hips. He has you bent entirely in half, cunt splayed wide open for him to fuck down into the deep, devastating end of you. Your vision goes blurry, black stars streaking across the back of your eyelids. All you see is him. Perhaps he’s all that exists now. Maybe you’re just as dead as the two bodies laying beside the two of you. You wonder peripherally what the sight of the four of you must look like. Joel’s hulking form fucking you like an animal into the dirt. You open your eyes to look up at him, there’s blood splatter across his face, in his hair. His skin is burning hot against yours. You think that perhaps you’ll have scorch marks in the shape of his fingers in your skin after he’s done with you. Two dead, brutalized bodies cooling beside the place where the two of you are fucking. 

“Can feel ya tightening up, baby. Gonna come all over my cock.”

He does something to change the angle, and it fucking hurts. “Too much,” you beg, try to push him back weakly, but your cunt pulls sharp and tight, and then your muscles are rippling around him, womb contracting painfully as your orgasms blinds you with its sudden intensity. 

“Don’t care,” he growls back. “Do not fucking push me away.” No, he must not care. Prey doesn’t decide how it’s felled, after all. 

He pulls out and back then, suddenly, slaps your cunt harshly, once, twice. You mewl, high and shocked, writhing around in the dirt. He grabs you by the hips and flips you so fast you’re left disoriented, pulling your ass up, up, up. 

“Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he croons, bends to bite down on the meat of your asscheek, and then notches back at your gaping, fluttering hole, orgasm still running through you, and pushes back in. You’re soaking wet, slick and fucked open by him and the taking is much easier this time. You feel his thumb press down on your asshole, “Gonna take this too. Gonna have every part of you, every piece. Gonna swallow you whole.” All you do is arch your back further, cheek smushed into the dirt, fingers digging into the cool earth for purchase, for salvation.

The sight of you stretched around his thick base, so slick he feels you dripping down his balls and further below, into the bloody earth. There’s a red tinge of your own blood coating his skin, and he’s going to come. He’s going to fill you up with his spend and fuck it deep into you until it takes. Until no matter how far you want to run, he’ll be with you, always. He lets his head fall back on his neck and stares up at the dark canopy of the trees, groans low and deep.“You’re gonna be my little hole now,” he promises, presses one large palm into the small of your back to deepen the angle and fuck down into you. “Gonna take you with me and fill you up whenever I feel like it. My gorgeous little cumslut.” The ramming of his hips starts to grow sloppy and stuttered, close to the edge now. Victory is so, so near. 

You start to claw at the dirt and wiggle again. Little knees chafed raw and scrambling against the hard ground trying to get away. He slaps your ass hard, hopes there’ll be the print of his hand to appreciate later. 

“Not inside, not inside – not – no birth control,” you stutter, beg.

“I’m not fuckin’ pulling out.” He twists a cruel and unyielding hand into the back of your hair and presses your face harshly into the ground. Your eyes pinch and tears seep and mingle into the blood and dirt beneath you. “Gonna pump you raw and full. You don’t gotta worry about anythin’ anymore, baby. Gonna take care of you,” he grits and you press yourself harder back into him. There is an existential seesaw inside of you – a volleying of your wants – you want him to hurt you, to force you, to take care of you and keep you, all at the same time.

“Promise – promise me you won’t leave me,” you cry and beg because really, that’s all you want. All you’ve ever wanted. For someone to stay, for someone to never leave, no matter what.

“I promise – fuckin’ swear.” And you go loose and passive again at that – his to do with as he will. Nothing else really matters after all that.

He senses the change. The loosening of your muscles into capitulation. He stops his thrusting and grinds, strums at your clit. “Oh fuck, you want me to fill you up? And what happens if I do? What happens if it takes? Want me to get you fuckin’ pregnant?” Starts to fuck into you again, “I think you do.”

Don’t care, don’t care, don’t care.

“You’re mine. Fucking mine.” He says it again and again and again, yes, yes, yes, lets himself fall forward, anchored above you with one strong arm as he presses as deep as he can physically go and starts to fill your pulsing cunt with his come, the heat of his spend inciting you to roll into one more throbbing orgasm. He brings his face down close to yours, open your eyes, little thing, lemme see you. The fluttering of your lashes, sweaty, dirt-streaked face, and you are seraphic, the wet crimson heat of your blood pounding beneath the delicate membrane of your skin. Gorgeous, perfect, conquered and his. 

“Fucked full’a me now,” he whispers, presses a soft kiss to the tender skin of your eyelid. You nuzzle into him, and then look up at him with the warmest, most vibrant gaze he’s ever seen. Fucking pleased and sated. 

“They wanted me, but only you get to have me now,” you whisper. “How does that make you feel?” Provoking, provoking again. 

“Like I fucking own you.” He grinds his still spitting cock further, feels the pull of your muscles milk him deeper. 

He lets his weight fall partially over you, too heavy for the full mass of himself. You are, after all, a delicate thing, and he must remember to handle you with care, occasionally. He feels the pulsing and quivering of your cunt around his softening cock, and the two of you settle to lay there in the dirt, bodies still dead, virginity scoured and stolen, and stare at each other. 

“Have you ever been in love?” you whisper, dragging the tip of one little finger, whisper soft, over the arch of his brow, the slope of his nose.

“I feel a little in love with ya right now,” he confesses, and you press that finger against the seam of his mouth, begging for entrance, and then inside, against the flat of his tongue to inspect the wet gleam of it. It’ll be inside of you soon enough, you should take a look at that which you’ll be writhing against in due time. 

“Good. That was my plan all along.” Smug, conniving little creature. 

-

Once it’s full dark, he packs you into his truck, buckles your seatbelt for you, tucks a blanket around your dirty knees and drives off as if he hadn’t just murdered two men and taken your virginity with their blood still hot on his skin. He goes for miles and miles, eventually finds a dark, secluded spot to park the truck for the night. He takes you into the back bunk and fucks you like you’d wanted him to, on your side, one leg slung over his shoulder, hand gripping the lush of your ass to pull you onto his impaling cock, watches your ass bounce against his thrusts. A demanded play with it, lemme see ya push it back in, as he watches himself drip out of your messy hole. Eats your cunt until you cry. Afterwards, the two of you lay, naked and damp, facing each other, tracing the lines of one another in the quiet dark. 

Sometimes he’s worried he’s blood hungry – or pain hungry. Starving for something he doesn’t have a name for. But he thinks that, perhaps, he can use your name to fill in the blank space now. He’d always felt as if his devotion was a punishment to the receiver. After all, everyone Joel has ever loved has left him. But as he looks at you, there’s something in your eyes that tells him that perhaps, you’ll remain. Perhaps, he can compel you to, force you to. Perhaps, he can anchor you to himself, and in turn, give you everything. 

“Are you a ghost?” he asks.

“No. Are you?”

“Sometimes I think I am.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You’re like a fuckin’ angel or somethin’. What were you doin’ out here in this wasteland?” He asks you again.

“Maybe I was waiting for you.” This answer he likes.

He’s quiet for a long time after that – taking you in, cataloging you, memorizing you. His fingers ghosting over your face, your hair, strumming the fan of your lashes. Later he asks: How do you remember the memory of someone else? How do you keep them when they’ve gone somewhere entirely unreachable?

“Because you love them,” you tell him.

“That’s enough?”

“Of course. Will you ever forget that you loved her?”

“Never.”

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

#my writing #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller/you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine

[soobnny]

classmate au | sim jake

❝ i’m sorry we only got 26/30 on this worksheet ❞

heeseung | jay | JAKE | sunghoon | sunoo | jungwon | ni-ki

jake…

oh jake.

student athlete and math genius jake

you’re in the same class but he feels so far because he hangs out with his rly pretty friends

u can only look from afar

he’s always a tiny bit late to class

always drawing attention to his pretty boy face 😞

at 7:30, the bell rings and classes start

at 7:31, jake walks into class late

but the teachers always give him a pass bc how could they not when he smiles at them like that and apologizes like that

even ur teachers are down bad

he probably becomes your class representative for that one strict teacher’s class bc they always have a soft spot for jake

u want the deadline of the homework extended? ask jake to message them

he sits in the middle seats

not too prim and punctual to be at the front

but still likes school enough not to completely goof around at the back

sometimes your math teacher lets you do quizzes and worksheets by pair

(it’s the only way some of you can get a passing grade)

by statistics and some type of sampling, you end up getting partnered up with jake

“hi, good morning,” he’d greet with his infamous smile

now you get why all the teachers swoon for him

he’s so cute. this is going to be a problem

this is going to be a BIG problem

you were already bad at math, and now there’s a big pretty distraction sitting next to you

though, tbh, you were also relieved when you heard your name with his bc he’s ltrly known as a math genius

he’s one of the students that teachers excuse for their math contests

and wait 😭 did he just say something to u? did he ask about a formula bc u honestly have no clue

“(name)?” he’d shake your shoulder gently and it’s enough to bring you back on earth

“sorry, did you ask something?”

“oh, i’m done … if u wanted to compare answers? or if u trust me enough?”

you trust him enough

he’s ltrly THE carry

jake will speedrun differential calculus like he’s writing the alphabet

uh oh.

why does he look so HOT with his pencil and the way he writes numbers

you’re going insane

you should never be paired with jake ever again

but by some twist of fate, you always end up as jake’s partner in numerous activities

lab work and experiments and communication reports?

“jake and (name),” the teacher would announce

ofc… typical of friends, they HAVE to push you around as you walk to your seat beside jake’s

while you’re of great help with anything else, you’re starting to feel bad about his literal carry in math tho

“are you sure it’s ok? i’m just rly horrible i’m sorry,” you’d apologize

he would just laugh and dismiss your concerns

“nooo, it’s okay. i’m fine! i can tell you didn’t get enough sleep last night”

(you spent the night binging a new show that came out)

your stomach doesn’t feel so good after that one.

who gave him the right to NOTICE things now???

when your teacher returns your paired worksheets, he has the GALL to apologize

a big fat 29/30 will be written on top and he’d say “oh i’m sorry we had one mistake 😕” like BOY SHUT UP !!!!

after your partner shenanigans, you’d start talking more in the classroom

he’d give u a fist bump if u bumped into each other in the hallways while walking with ur respective friend groups

sometimes even shout your name to get your attention only to wave at you

“why are you smiling like that?,” sunghoon would ask accusingly

and you know what? jake has no shame

“(name). she’s pretty cute, no?”

BYE absolutely no shame

so now, when he speedruns an activity, you’ll find him hovering around you until he starts to make conversation

if the teacher leaves early ?? suddenly he’s transported to the seat next to yours and flirting

being friends with jake is chaotic…. bc that would automatically mean being friends with HIS loud ass friends

pretty friends have upgraded to pretty LOUD friends

they’re so annoying too

“jake and (name), can you buy us water?”, heeseung would ask

WHY R U BUYING WATER FOR HEESEUNG

but jake’s already taking your hand and dragging you away bc he will take every opportunity to hang out with you alone

BTW computer science god idk i just got the vibes

during valentines that year, he codes you a little website please end me

mind you, you aren’t even together yet

he just codes for you as a friend 😂😂😂 as if anyone’s believing that

oh and he also avails those anonymous services so you’ll just be receiving flowers from the student council throughout the day

“oooooh, who are those from,” he would be smiling like it’d be so painfully obvious it’s from him

“do you like them?” NOOOOOOO he just wants to know ok!!! tell him you love them please

OK back to normal no more valentines

when class dismisses, you’d find him lounging around the basketball court with heeseung

sweaty….. wet hair…. oh dear

jake is a sight to see when he’s playing basketball

u usually sit at the bleachers anyway bc ur friends enjoyed watching

he is SOOOOO annoying esp now that you’ve grown closer over the months

he’d make stupid plays and draw attention to you 100%

“if i get this shot in, will you go on a date with me?”

cue the screams and the teasing and the fake vomiting as you’re pushed around

OFC he makes the shot

he’s sim jake, math genius AND student athlete

“so, tomorrow after class?”

“huh?? i thought you were joking??”

“what? no! have i not been obvious? i ltrly flirt with you evry chance i get??”

“well… idk! maybe you do that with everyone!”

“only you”

OK WISH I WERE YOU THEN 😒😒😒😒😒

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

#k-labels #enhypen x reader #fluff #jake sim #enhypen jake #jake x y/n #sim jake x reader #sim jake x you #jake x reader #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun x reader #enhypen jake x reader #jake imagines #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #enhypen blurbs #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #classmate au #enhypen fanfic #enhypen x you #enhypen headcanons #enhypen headcanon #sim jake imagines #sim jake #jake headcanons #sim jake headcanons #enhypen jake headcanons

[lexisecretaccx]

A+ Student pt.2

Other parts on my Masterlist!

(Fem reader, Matt and Chris, suggestive, little angst, not proofread! Everyone is 18+, idk what else)

Summary: Y/n is a great student in her college, always getting good grades. Her college professor Matt, thinks she can get even higher ones with some “extra credit.” That is until she meets her new gym teacher..

“There she is!” Lizzy calls over to me, sat next to 3 other people who I don’t know, she motions me to sit opposite her. “Who are these?” I whisper to her. She chuckles, “this is Ethan, this is Jamie and this is Kelly.” She looks to a blonde girl sat next to her who smiles at me, “I’m new, I think I’m in your English class.” She giggles, “oh nice.” I smile uncomfortably.

I don’t enjoy being around new people, I know you have to be to make new friends but I honestly don’t want new friends. I eat my food silently while they all talk and make my way to the library for the last period, which was a free period. Nobody else who I knew had one so I was alone but it’s usually like that anyway.

Lizzy enjoys being around people, she’s pretty extroverted but not me.

I sit down at a table in the library and open a book, not a book to learn but just a book. Icebreaker. If you weren’t familiar with it, it’s a smutty book so reading it in school is a dangerous task.

I turn to the page I was on and read it. Whilst I was getting into the story, I sense someone looking at me and I turn around. Matt is stood there flicking through a book, he quickly drops his head from looking at me. I pack my book into my bag, placing the bookmark into the page and I walk to him. “Hey professor.” I lean up against the bookcase next to him.

“Oh hey y/n, you okay?” He smiles at me, “yeah I have a free period, what you reading?” I ask him looking at the book in his hands. He shrugs lightly, “I don’t know I just picked a random book,” he laughs quietly due to us being in a library. “Uh, why did Chris make you stay behind earlier?” He slightly leads my arm so we can sit down.

“I threw a dodgeball at Rachel, because she was saying shit about me.” I whisper, he chuckles, “Rachel in the English class?” I nod. “I’ll give her a D- next test if you want.” He grins, “No don’t do that.” I laugh, “I was kidding.”

We chat and I text him so he gets my number and the bell rings so I leave to go home. As I’m walking I get a text from Matts number, “extra credit 6pm? 27 Saques Lane.” I smile to myself before texting back, “sure see u there.”

I feel my cheeks heat up, am I really doing this? I get home and walk upstairs, showering, making myself look presentable and also slipping on a red lacy set, just in case.. I put on sweats and a crop top that shows my cleavage the perfect amount. Am I delusional? What if he doesn’t mean what I think he does? I start to feel anxious but I get a cab to his house.

The cab driver pulls up outside Matt’s and I pay him before hopping out of the car. I walk up his large driveway, this house must have at least 4 bedrooms or more, there’s a minivan in the driveway and a fancy Porsche. “Woah.” I mumble to myself. I knock the door nervously, someone opens the door. “Oh hey..” he says.

“Sorry I’m just heading out now, who are you?” He tilts his head slightly, “oh I’m y/n, I’m here to see Matt?” I speak, anxiety filling my chest. “Oh yeah he’s in the living room, see ya.” He walks past me without letting me say another word. “Okay..” I whisper. I walk in and I can hear music or something coming from the room next to me.

The door is glass so I peer through and see Matt laying back on a big couch facing a modern fireplace with a massive tv on it. How can he afford these things? I think to myself.

I open the door and walk in, Matt instantly turning his head to face me. His gaze softens as he realised it’s me. “I’m so sorry I didn’t hear you knock!” He stands up and walks to me, “it’s fine, the other one of you three opened the door.” I smile, “Nick?” He asks me and I shrug, “probably, it wasn’t Chris so yeah.” I laugh and he chuckles.

“Come sit.” He sits back down and I sit next to him, he turns the TV off and directs his attention to me, “so what extra credit should I do?” I lean closer to him, “like write a short story or do some quizzes or something else..” I look him up and down, the grey sweatpants sitting perfectly and the tight black tshirt is doing all sorts of good things.

“I like the third option.” He whispers before leaning in and brushing my hair out of my face. I know this is wrong but it feels so good. I press my lips to his and I melt into him, his soft lips move against mine perfectly.

He hums against my lips before pulling away too soon. “This is wrong.” He mumbled to himself. “I thought you wanted..” I go to speak but he cuts me off, “I don’t know y/n.. what if I lose my job?” He stands up and wipes his mouth, “fuck.” He breathes out. “I’m sorry..” I fidget with my hands.

“Don’t apologise.. please y/n? I just...” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t thinking straight.. you’re just so.. I don’t know.” He sits on the coffee table opposite me.

“So you don’t want me anymore?” I ask, and he huffs, “No I’m not saying that.. but I also am. I just love my job, and you’re great at the subject but I don’t want this.” He motions between us. My eyes well with tears, “what?” My voice cracks, “don’t cry, please? I’m gonna go for a drive.. clear my head but you can stay here until I’m back if you want.” He smiles and pats my shoulder.

He walks out the door, “what the fuck just happened.” I cry softly to myself, placing my head in my hands. I should’ve know that this wasn’t what he wanted truly. Fuck I feel awful, I’m a slut.

After 5 minutes I stand up to go leave and the front door opens infront of me, Matt wouldn’t be home this quickly, what if it’s Nick? He doesn’t know me and I’m crying in his hallway. “Oh fuck you scared me.” I look up to see Chris, I breathe out softly, “oh shit you okay?” He walks up to my and rests his hand on my shoulder, I shake my head. “No.” I squeak before crying harder.

Without hesitation he pulls me into his chest and hugs me, I pull my head off of him and he looks down, “I don’t wanna get makeup on your shirt.” I whisper and he chuckles. “It’s fine.”

We pull away from the hug, “that’s embarrassing.” I laugh lightly, and he tilts his head, “what is?” I shrug, “I fucking cried in my gym teachers arms.” He laughs softly, “that’s not embarrassing.. but why are you in my house crying?” He leads me to the kitchen and we sit up to the island. “Uh.. fuck I don’t know if I can tell.” I sigh.

“Matt? Right?” He asks. I nod, “We didn’t do anything, he just flipped out.” He cracks his knuckles, “well he is your professor maybe he got scared, he’s never been one to take risks.” Chris leans on the counter smiling at me. I sigh, “yeah but he made me think he wanted something.”

“It’s okay, when is he coming back?” He rubs my back comfortingly, I shrug. “I don’t know, he didn’t say.” Chris nods. The room has gotten tense, not an awkward tension but it’s indescribable.

“What did you mean earlier today?” Chris’ eyes meet mine and he hums in confusion, “when you said there was ways for me to get higher grades, what did you mean by that?” I ask again, the corners of his mouth flick up before relaxing, “it wasn’t what you were thinking..” he smirks.

“What did you think I was thinking?” I lean on the counter infront of me slightly, “I think you were thinking that I was implying something sexual.. weren’t you y/n?” He leans in slightly, I shake my head gently. “No I wasn’t thinking that.. you’re my teacher.” I scoff, “didn’t stop you from trying with Matt huh?” He leant in further.

“The difference between me and him? I like to take risks.” He leant in so his nose brushed against mine before he pulled away. I feel my cheeks redden, he laughs at my nervousness, “do you want-” I go to speak but the front door unlocks and both of us turn to face the door before Chris gets up and walks over to the fridge. Matt walks in and goes to check the living room before he notices me in the kitchen.

“Oh hey.” He spoke softly walking towards me, his eyes dart to Chris standing there opening a can of Pepsi. His jaw tightens, “hey Matty boy you okay?” Chris teases and Matt rolls his eyes, “see ya tomorrow y/n.” Chris spoke as he walks past me, patting my shoulder and going out into the hall. “Did you tell him.. or?” Matt starts to talk.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now.” I sigh, “hey what did I do?” He asks with genuine concern on his face, I scoff. “You led me on to believe you wanted something from me!” I stand up out of the seat. “Come on y/n, I’m your professor.. grow up.” He spoke, I just started walking towards the front door.

“Wait.. wait.” He yelled slightly before grabbing my arm. “Get off.” I hiss. “I’m sorry okay?” He whispers in my ear before letting go. “I’ll see you in tomorrow’s lecture, no hard feelings right?” He smiled and I just opened the door and walked out. I felt angry. Why did he pretend he wanted something and then treats me like shit.

Chris is nice though.. “y/n.. please come back.” I hear Matt calling from behind me and I turn around, I still can’t deny that I find him so fucking gorgeous he’s just kind of a dick.. “what?” I reply. “I’ll bump your overall trade to an A+.. I know how much you want it and you deserve it.” He smiles as he catches up with me, he brushes my hair out my face. “Thanks…” I feel drawn into him.

What kind of spell has he got on me? He’s manipulating me right? “What were you and Chris doing?” He asks me, as his hand rests on my arm, “the thing we didn’t do.” I whisper just to watch his expression change. It did exactly that and his gaze hardens, “what?” He mumbles, “we talked.. me and you haven’t done that.” I turn around and continue to walk away.

I turn away to see him walking back to his house slowly, I can’t let him manipulate me but I just don’t know.. there’s something about him.. but also about Chris.. maybe it’s the fact they’re both my teachers, or maybe it’s because they look the same but are so different at the same time.

I just don’t know what I want..

A/n: Team Chris or Team Matt? I have good plans for this but I cannot reveal and I also cannot upload too much bc of how busy I ammm! Ily all and thanks for 600 followers that’s crazy!

@blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @mattybslover @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @sturniolosmind @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @certifiednatelover @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore @cammie4298 @sturnsjtop @sturnzblog @chr1sgirl4life @evie-sturns @milasturniolo @jaxyy219

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolos #smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt

[autumnscribbles]

secret pt.2 | c.f

summary: y/n decides she needs to come clean to her sister about her relationship with Conrad.

word count: 900 ish

a/n: IM BACK!!! feels so good to be writing again i’m sorry this took so long! some people asked to be tagged in part 2:

@maybankslover @maybankprincess @lonelywitchv2 @fangirl-dork @gulphulp (thank you guys so much for the support ily)

——-

You stumbled down the stairs, bare footed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you entered the kitchen. You grinned when you noticed Jeremiah cooking pancakes on the stove.

“Since when do you cook?” you laughed, leaning against the kitchen island as you watched him.

“About since you were in love with Conrad,” he winked.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you blushed as you tossed a grape from the table at his head.

“Oh, sweet y/n, of course I do,” he grinned over his shoulder. “She doesn’t have a claim on him, you know.”

“I know,” you sighed heavily. “But you know how she feels about him, Jer, she’d hate me forever.”

You wanted to confide in Jeremiah about what was going on, but then Belly suddenly stepped into the room. Your heart sank slightly at the sight of her, knowing what you were doing to her was wrong.

Not a day went by where you didn’t consider ending things with Conrad just so you didn’t have to hurt your little sister. Despite this, you couldn’t let him go. You knew you couldn’t keep living like this, you either had to tell Belly soon, or end things with Conrad.

~

You laid on your bed, your skin soft from the salt of the ocean. You rested your eyes gently, basking in that feeling of relaxation when you lie down after a day at the beach. You were startled by a slight knock on your door frame. You opened your eyes to see Conrad, smiling at you sweetly.

“Good swim?,” he asked, noting how comfortable you looked.

You nodded sleepily and sat up, patting the bed for him to sit down.

“I think I have to tell Belly, like, today,” you told him, already dreading it.

“You’re probably right,” he agreed, grabbing your hand gently. “Do you want me to be there with you?”

“No,” you groaned. “She’s my sister, I should be the one to tell her.”

Conrad wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer and pressing his lips to your forehead. He knew you were anxious, but that he couldn’t mend the situation.

“She loves you,” he reassured. “Even if she’s upset, she’ll come around.”

~

You looked out your window and saw Belly sitting at the edge of the pool. You knew this was your chance, and you needed to stop putting it off.

You went outside to meet her, taking a second to breathe in the cool night breeze. You could do this.

“Hey, Bells,” you said cheerfully as you sat next to her, putting your bare feet into the water.

“Hey,” she smiled. “What’s up?”

“I, uh,” you started. “I have to talk to you about something.”

“Okaaaaay?” she sang, raising her eyebrows up at you tentatively.

“So,” you breathed. “Conrad and I have sort of been…seeing each other since the beginning of the summer.”

You couldn’t look in her eyes, your gaze rested on the pool. You tried to let the subtle waves and the reflection of the moon comfort you.

“What does that mean?” Belly asked.

“We’re dating, Belly,” you confessed. “I was scared to tell you because I know you like him too, but it just sort of happened. I really, really like him.”

Belly’s eyebrows went from raised to furrowed, as if she was trying to make sense of what you just told her.

“Are you doing this on purpose? To hurt me or get back at me for something?” she accused.

“What? No! I would never do that to you,” you defended yourself.

“You know I’ve loved him my whole life, y/n,” she cried, voice raised. “Out of everyone, why does it have to be him?”

“Belly,” you sighed. “Please don’t do this. It just happened, okay? I’m not trying to hurt you.”

“Well, you are,” she deadpanned.

You were trying to stay calm, be the rational one. You weren’t trying to hurt her more, or make things worse. Despite the fact you were frustrated with her immaturity, you were determined to be the bigger person.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “But Conrad and I are together, you’ll have to accept it. Trust me I thought about ending it because I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Then why didn’t you?” she yelled, startling you.

“Because I love him, okay?” you exclaimed. “I’m stupidly in love with him, and I can’t just throw that away.”

Belly’s face softened, and it gave you a glimmer of hope. You knew she adored a good love story.

“You are?” she asked.

“I am,” you confirmed. “It’s not just a fling, I wouldn’t do this if it was.”

“I guess I can’t come in the way of love,” Belly admitted, reaching her hand over to rest it over yours. The pavement around the pool was cold, but Belly’s hand was warm and comforting.

“I love you, Bells,” you told her. “You know that. If you’ll hate me forever, I won’t be with him.”

“I can’t do that to you,” she said, shaking her head. “You deserve an epic romance, and if Conrad’s the guy, I just have to accept that. Maybe it was always you that was meant to be with him, not me.”

“Ever thought about Jer,” you smirked, nudging her with your shoulder.

“Shut up,” she laughed. “Or I’ll throw you in the pool.”

“Only if you join me,” you teased, before you grabbed her hand and pulled her in with you, both of you squealing as the water hit your bodies.

“We’re okay?” you asked, wiping the water from your eyes.

“We’re okay,” she smiled. “Now go kiss your boyfriend.”

“Race you inside!” you screamed as you climbed out quickly, her screams of protest behind you.

The sound of her laugh in the summer air made you feel whole. You knew things were going to be okay now.

#conrad fisher x reader #conrad x reader #conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #tsitp imagine #tsitp #jeremiah fisher imagine #jeremiah fisher

[ericityyy]

Hi :D I was wondering if we could have a georgie cooper x reader where the reader comes from a family of pagans so they’re perceived as kinda freakish by most of the town and georgie develops a crush on her?

please, and thank you

𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘈 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘧𝘴, 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵? 𝘖𝘳 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤?

𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚: 𝘖𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘈𝘵𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵

𝙏𝙮𝙥𝙚: 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 2,552

𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

“Hi, I know we’re not close, but would you like to come to my birthday this Saturday?"

The girl who was asked looked at her friends while trying to stifle their laughter. “I’m sorry, I would love to, but I can't,” the girl finally said before walking out with her friends, laughing on the way.

"Oh, uhm, that’s okay.” Y/N sighed sadly when she crossed out another name on her list, looking at all the other crossed-out names. “I guess it’s just me again.” The girl smiled bitterly while deciding to sit on the stairs, observing how students come and go from room to room.

The bell rang, and all the students, one by one, went their own way. The girl, after seeing the last student go inside a classroom, waited for a minute or two before going to her own subject.

"Ah, Ms. L/N, care to explain why you’re late today?” Miss Ingram, the math teacher of Medford High School, paused with her writing and turned her full focus on the girl who just entered, making the other students turn their attention as well to the girl.

Y/N was about to answer before she was cut off by one of the football players of the school, “Maybe she was doing her voodoo freakshow to make us like her.” The class laughed except the Cooper brothers, one because he did not get the joke, while the other because the ‘joke’ was not funny.

“What do you mean by making us like her?” The girl that Y/N invited earlier frowned at the jock as she turned her attention once again to the standing girl. “It clearly didn’t work.”

Ms. Ingram pointed at the students angrily, “You better shut all your mouths before I make you all go to the principal’s office.” Least to say, they ignored her.

Y/N, too embarrassed to move, stayed in her position with tears gathering up in her eyes. “Oh no! Careful! You’re going to make her angry and take revenge on us!” The same girl pretended to act scared and put the back of her hand on her forehead, causing more laughter to erupt from the class.

A loud screech from a chair made the laughter stop as Georgie stood up and approached the embarrassed and humiliated girl. Offering her a napkin from his pocket and smiling softly at her.

Y/N is surprised, to say the least. Her glossy eyes looked at him with confusion and shock. No one has ever been nice to her at school before. Heck, no one has been nice to her during her, period. With the exception of her family, of course, and some old neighbors of theirs, but that was it.

Georgie then looked at the class with fury in his eyes and said, “Anybody wants to say something else?” No one answered for a minute when Sheldon raised his hand. The older Cooper boy rolled his eyes at his little brother and said, “Not now, Sheldon.” The said boy looked flabbergasted at first before slowly lowering his hand down.

“Ms. Ingram, if it’s okay, I’d like to take Y/N out of the class for a moment," Georgie politely asked the teacher, who smiled sympathetically at the girl.

Sympathy. Not many like to be pitied, but this moment brings comfort to Y/N to think that somebody actually cared enough to feel sympathy for her.

“Go ahead, Georgie.” The teacher then turned her eyes back to the class. “While I will bring some students on a field trip to the principal’s office myself, how does that sound?” Ms. Ingram smiled wickedly at the now cowering students.

While Sheldon smiled excitedly, “Oh boy! The principal’s office.”

"Oh, you’re not going, Sheldon.”

“Aww”

・‥...━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━...‥・

Y/N fiddled with her pendant nervously, occasionally looking at the boy pressing on the vending machine as she sat patiently on the bench nearby. The two of them are alone currently at the hall.

A hand with a drink was thrust in her direction, particularly in her line of vision. Y/N looked up and saw Georgie’s smiling face. She meekly took the drink from him and drank it, looking down at the bottle and staying quiet.

Georgie, knowing not to push her into talking, sat down beside her, with a good amount of space left between them, and drank from his own drink. His cool demeanor contrasts with the way his heart is beating. He took a big gulp from his drink to calm his rapid heart. Alas, it didn’t work at all.

Being with the girl he has been admiring all year and sitting beside her is doing something to him. He flinched a little when he heard her speak.

“Thank you.” Y/N smiled shyly at his direction, “from kind of saving me back there." She then lifted up the drink with her hand, “and for the free drink." She returned her attention back to the napkin that she'd been gripping, “and for the napkin. I promise I’ll give it back to you soon.”

Georgie shrugged coolly from beside her. “It’s all good; as long as there’s no harm done to my napkin, it’s all good.”

Y/N furrowed her brows together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The boy then widened his eyes, realizing that his words might be a little offensive given the situation that happened earlier. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it like that." He was cut off when the girl laughed a little.

“I was just joking, Georgie.”

Georgie breathed a sigh of relief, shaking his head playfully at the girl who fully smiled at him. His smile, though, turned down a little. "So, how are you? With all that?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders, hurt gracing her features. “Y'know, disappointed but not really surprised. It’s how people see me, my family.” She fiddled with her pendant once again, making Georgie’s attention turn to her hand. “I don’t mind being called a witch, y'know; it’s just—when people use the word in a bad way and call me and my family a freak just... hurts.”

She smiled bitterly. “It’s not like I’ll do something to them; it’s my beliefs, and I don’t need them to be friends with me; I just need them to be open-minded to it.” Y/N dropped the pendant, letting it hang around her neck, before releasing a big sigh.

Georgie looked at the girl softly, scooching closer to her, which the girl took notice of and said, “Well, I’ll be your first audience.” Y/N slowly smiled at that, nudging her shoulder to his. “I think paganism is an interesting belief; would you mind explaining it to me?” Georgie asked the girl, hopefully. In his case, it really is an interesting religion; he didn’t just say that to ‘get the girl’.

Y/N’s eyes sparkled at that before an idea came to her mind: “I’m actually having this small party at my house this Saturday; it’s my—“

“Birthday, yeah, I know.”

The girl blinked multiple times, snapping out of it. “I was wondering if you, I don’t know, would like to come?”

Georgie nodded his head without even letting the girl finish, “I would be honored to, ma’am.” He held her hand in his, raising it up to his lips and letting it touch the back of her hand softly.

・‥...━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━...‥・

On Saturday, Georgie made sure to look presentable before going to Y/N’s place. And that means taking a long shower, shaving, spraying cologne, and putting on his best outfit. By that, it meant that he looked anywhere for his best outfit; there’s currently a mountain of clothes on his bed.

He styled his hair perfectly and looked for any creases on his shirt. Once he’s done, he exits his room and takes his car keys before going to the front door. “I’m going out for a bit!"

“Now, hold on a second there, mister.” Mary walked into the living room and stopped her son from further going out the door. “Where do you think you’re going, Georgie?”

Georgie released the door knob to properly face his mother and said, “A friend’s house.”

Mary smiled teasingly. "Oh, is this friend a girl?”

“Yes.”

Mary then dropped her smile after learning about this new bit of information. “Then why are you going to her house? Are her parents there? Is she your girlfriend? Who is she anyway? When am I going to meet her?”

Georgie sighed, rolling his eyes at his mother before answering all of her questions: “It’s her birthday. Yes. No, although I plan to court her someday. She’s Y/N L/N. I don’t know when she’s okay with it.” He looked at the watch on his wrist before facing the door once more. “I’ll get going; I don’t want to be late.”

After her son left the house, Mary was left shocked. “Did he just say L/N? Oh Lord, bless his heart and guide him through this.”

・‥...━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━...‥・

Georgie wiped his hands and touched his hair to make sure it stayed put and not a strand was out of place. “You can do this,” he repeated to himself before knocking on the door.

The door opened up, revealing an older woman around her mid-40s. "Well, hello there, you must be Georgie.” She opened the door more to offer the teenager a handshake. “I’m Y/N’s mom; please come in, dear.”

Georgie shook her hand before entering the new home, a gift in his hand. It wasn’t really a big gift, and it made him nervous about whether she'd like it. The L/N’s house is a simple two-story house with a few plants inside and paintings hanging on the walls.

“Y/N! Dear, you have a visitor!”

“Coming!” And then she walked in the living room, with this simple blue summer dress and her hair done, with her pendant hanging around her neck. “Hi, Georgie. Thank you so much for coming.” Y/N walked over to the gawking teenager, his mouth left agape as he stuttered out a response.

“Hi—this gift... for you.” Georgie gave his gift to the girl. “I mean, this is my gift for you. Happy Birthday, Y/N." He nervously chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “It’s nothing much really, just a simple one. I hope you like it.”

Y/N took the gift and opened it, revealing a bracelet—an engraved bracelet with the runic letters spelling her name. “Oh my—Georgie, where did you buy this? I love it; thank you so much.” She hugged him, which left the boy more speechless than he ever was.

"Oh, it’s all good. I’m not sure about the spelling of the name, so if it’s wrong, I can fix it."

"Wait, wait, what do you mean fix it? You made this? ”

Georgie looked at the girl for a moment before shyly nodding his head. Their stare was broken by a flash, and the two of them looked to the side where they saw Y/N holding a camera in her hand. “I just ruined the moment, didn’t I?” She slowly put down the camera, smiling sheepishly at the pair. “Sorry.”

・‥...━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━...‥・

“So what’s your plan for the future, Georgie?” Y/N’s dad asked the boy as they ate.

Georgie swallowed the food before answering, “I actually don’t know yet, sir, but I would love to have my own business someday.” He picked up a glass for him to drink and said, “To be honest, I’m not that great at school, not like my little brother, Sheldon, so I don’t plan on going to college, but I would like to build my own business.”

“A business, huh? Well, you can tell me how I’ll help you, son; I’ll sponsor you as long as I can.” The man smiled at the young boy who beamed at him. “But you have to prove to me that my help wouldn’t be futile.”

"Yes, sir, I won’t let you down.”

Y/N smiled at the two of them, but not until her father asked what religion Georgie is. The teenagers looked at each other first before the girl let Georgie answer.

“I’m actually Christian; my mother is religious and all that, but I am not a full believer," Georgie answered truthfully, hoping that his religion wouldn’t be a problem to him courting Y/N in the eyes of her family.

“Oh, it’s fine if you don’t fully believe it if it doesn’t feel right with you," Y/N’s mom said with the girl’s dad nodding his head along with her. “We, pagans, are different from each other. Like Y/N here, for example, she believes more in the Norse gods but worships them a bit differently than traditional worship.” The woman pointed to her daughter, who smiled shyly, “She’s considered to be an Eclectic Pagan.”

Georgie takes in the new information and says, “That’s cool. Do you guys like to recruit or something?"

This time it was Y/N who answered, "No, no, we do not ‘recruit’, we let people do it of their own free will. Pagans tend to believe in many gods and goddesses, while some believe only in one; other pagans can believe in your God if they choose to.”

“Woah, that’s really interesting.” Georgie’s mind was prepared to ask more questions to the family, who, by the way, are happy to answer them.

・‥...━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━...‥・

“Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. and Mrs. L/N," Georgie said as they walked him to the front door as nightfall had already come.

Y/N’s mom moved to hug the boy and say, “No, thank you for being a part of my daughter’s birthday.” She pulled away with teary eyes, then whispered, “You have my blessing, by the way, to court her.” The woman winked at the stunned teenager.

“I won’t hurt her, I promise.”

“Oh Georgie, pain is part of love; as long as you treat her like she deserves and have proper communication with her, all is well.” Y/N’s mom caressed his cheek before pulling away to let him and her husband talk.

“Remember what we talked about, son. I’ll help you as long as you help yourself too.” Y/N’s father shook hands with the Cooper boy, who nodded his head at him eagerly. “I trust you won’t screw this up, both the business and my daughter.” He raised a brow to the teenager, who just let out a chuckle nervously.

“Dad!”

“I’m only joking, sweetie, right, Georgie?”

"Yes, sir, of course.”

The parents walked off to give the two some privacy. The teenagers walked outside as they stood there on the porch, with the only light being the porchlight. “I’d like to thank you for coming to my birthday and celebrating it with me. And for the gift. And for everything else.”

Georgie just smiled and nodded his head behind her. “I’m actually glad that your parents liked me.”

“Of course they would; what’s not to like?” Y/N unconsciously said before gasping when she realized what she said.

The boy started grinning boyishly, “Well, I best be on my way, ma’am.” He lifted her hand once again and kissed the back of it; he put it down but was still not releasing it. “Happy Birthday again, Y/N.”

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

I tried to make this as accurate as possible. Clearly, I am not a Pagan, but I tried to research and study more about the religion but please, correct me if I’m wrong.

How about a part 2? Where the Cooper Family met Pagan!reader? Let me know what you think about that.

#x reader #georgie #georgie cooper x reader #georgie cooper #young sheldon #request #angsty fluff #flangst #fluff #angst #imagine #fem reader

[steddieas-shegoes]

I didn’t feel like this post was enough of the Steve and Chrissy friendship so please enjoy the prologue ficlet I just spit out faster than a person actually can (please excuse typos!!!)

--------------------------------------------

“You ever think about leaving this place?”

“What, Hawkins?”

“Yeah.”

Steve and Chrissy were hiding under the bleachers, waiting for the school to clear out for the day. This was only their second time hanging out together, but Steve hadn’t had this much fun in years.

“I guess. It just doesn’t seem like it’ll happen for me.”

They were sitting across from each other, whispering in case there were any stragglers in the gym, Chrissy still in her cheerleader uniform from practice and Steve freshly showered from basketball practice.

Jason had left with his friends a while ago, so there probably wasn’t much of a reason to stay hidden, but neither of them wanted to deal with him if he came back.

“I have to get out.”

She said it so seriously, Steve wasn’t sure how to respond at first.

Luckily, she continued to explain before he had to.

“If I stay, my future is picked out for me. I’ll graduate, marry Jason, work as a secretary somewhere and have two or three kids that I don’t want. I won’t even get to go to college.”

“Do you want to?”

Chrissy blushed and looked down.

“I wanna be a vet. But my mom told me I can’t. Too much school and she thinks Jason will find someone else and then I’ll be alone.”

“You could find someone at school! That’s so stupid. Your mom sounds stupid.”

Chrissy gave him a small smile in agreement.

“She thinks it’s the life I want.”

“Well, let’s say you get out of here and become a vet. What else does your life look like?”

“Hm.” She tapped her fingers against her knee, then beamed at him. “I’d marry Eddie Munson and he’d bring me backstage on his tours.”

This made Steve pause.

“Eddie Munson? Why him?”

“He’s amazing. He’s cute, and nice, and different. He wants to leave here and be someone. He’s brave.”

Steve agreed. Of course, he didn’t know how to say so without giving away that he’d had a crush on Eddie for months. That was new for him; liking men, admitting that he liked men, knowing the man he liked was Eddie.

Chrissy was looking at him expectantly. He didn’t know what to say.

“What do you think about him?”

Something about the way she asked set alarm bells off in his head. Nobody knew about him liking guys the way he liked girls. It wasn’t exactly safe for others to know.

“I mean, he seems a little odd. But yeah, he seems nice.”

She squinted her eyes at him before looking away, her eyes finding a spot behind him to focus on as she spoke.

“You know I have a cousin, Brad, who has a partner a lot like Eddie. He’s not allowed at family stuff, but I write him letters sometimes and he sends some to me through a friend.”

“Oh.”

“So if you maybe thought Eddie was cute too…”

“What? What makes you think I think he’s cute?”

“Hey, calm down. I was just saying if you liked him, I’d be a safe person to tell, that’s all.”

Steve’s body relaxed. He didn’t have to know Chrissy that well to know she wouldn’t lie about that.

“I-”

“You also don’t have to tell me or anyone. It’s up to you.”

“I do think he’s cute. In an annoying way.”

There. That wasn’t so bad.

Chrissy was smiling at him, reaching a hand over to his knee to squeeze it.

“You should ask him out.”

“What.”

Okay, Chrissy was a smart girl. Surely, she understood why he couldn’t do that.

“Yeah! I bet he’d say yes. Who wouldn’t?”

“Any guy I ask out!”

“Not Eddie. I’m pretty sure he’s into both.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Just a hunch,” Chrissy shrugged.

“Do you have evidence for your hunch or are you just hoping I get punched in the face?”

Chrissy rolled her eyes at his dramatics. Maybe he was being dramatic, but not that dramatic.

“Not exactly. I’ve just seen him at a bar that’s known for being a safe place for people who may swing in different directions.”

“And what were you doing there?” He raised a brow in question.

“I was testing a hunch.”

“You and your hunches.”

“I was right about this one!”

“And what was that hunch?”

“That I liked girls.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. Chrissy Cunningham was like him?

“Oh. So you’re…”

“Yeah. That’s how I guessed you were. And how I’m guessing that Eddie is too.”

“Maybe. I think you’d have a better shot, though.”

Chrissy shrugged. “I think you should ask him out at graduation.”

“What? Step on stage to get my diploma and declare my love? That sounds like a move he would do, not me.”

“No. But after. Maybe invite him to the diner to celebrate.”

“What about you?”

“What about me? I’ve got Jason. Eddie’s gonna be out of this place as soon as he can. He shouldn’t have to wait on me.”

“You have just as much of a shot with him as I do.”

Chrissy thought for a moment before she gave him a soft smile.

“I think you two have a chance at something. Pinky promise me you’ll try?”

Steve held out his pinky and latched it with Chrissy’s.

He would try for her, but he wouldn’t let himself consider a future with Eddie.

#steve harrington #chrissy cunningham #stranger things #tumblr drabbles #ficlet #part 2 but takes place before part 1 #part 1 is linked above

[xetswan]

The Switch Of Daylight- Reincarnate pt. 1

(Alice x Reader x Jasper)

[five] [six] [seven]

Bella was currently getting ready for the night of shopping with Jessica. I sat in her chair, watching her. She obviously was forcing herself to do this but I was proud nonetheless. I know how much this is probably taking out of her. She looks at me with her eyebrows furrowed. “What?” She suddenly speaks and I tilt my head. “What?” I repeat back to her. “Why are you looking at me like that.” She questions me. “Because I can?” I stand up, smiling in an annoying way on purpose. “Well, knock it off weirdo.” She throws a pillow at me from her bed, which was easily caught in my hands. I gently toss it back onto the mattress. “Shouldn’t you get going? That movie is in like 30 minutes.” I point out to her, changing the subject.

“Oh, I didn’t even notice.” She lets out a loud sigh, messing with her hair before grabbing a few things. “Uh, do you think you can come with?” She asks, a hand in her back pocket. “Jessica might get upset if I tag along.” I start to think about it. “More the reason to come, I guess.” I shrug my shoulders as Bella rolls her eyes trying to hold back a laugh. “C’mon, [Name].” She shakes her head, she turns her lights off and we head out.

We exit a theater, just getting done watching some Zombie film, I wasn’t really paying attention. A smell was bothering me the entire time and I couldn’t even tell what it was. “I don’t get why there are so many zombie movies.” Bell states out loud, and it sounds kind of muffled at first when she speaks. “It’s, like, a metaphor? For crass consumerism or something.” Jessica says and both Bella and I glance at her then at each other. “Not that you’d know anything about consuming, Bella. You didn’t buy anything. Surprisingly [Name] did.” Jessica announces, slightly lifting my bag that holds a few clothing pieces. “I bought something.” Bella argues. “Socks don’t count. ‘Course I was surprised you even called.” The girl says truthfully. “I’ve been kind of out of it.” Kind of? Girl was in mourning. “Kind of? I mean, at first I was worried. Then I’m like okay, she’s still bumming? It’s not like I wasn’t going through things too. Like Mike deciding he wanted to “just be friends?” That was really hard and…” Wow… way to make things about herself, Jesus Christ. “How ‘bout a ride girls?” A guy questions from across the street. “How about you fuck yourself?” I flip him off, Jessica and I start to walk off, listening to the guys whistle and talk about my little comment. “Come on.” Jessica tries to pull on Bella to follow with us. “I know them… I think.” Bella mutters and my eyes widen then give her a dirty look. “Bella Swan, come on right now.” I fold my arms. “Can we just go-“ Jessica pulls at her arm but it’s shrugged off. “I want to see something.” Bella walks away from us. Jessica and I watch my sister go up to these guys and I notice her heart speeds up and then for split seconds it has a weird beat to it. Her body stops realizing something. I don’t listen to the guys speak, just focusing on Bella’s movements and her heartbeat. Bella climbs onto the bike and I stiffen up .”Bella!” The bike already went to a movement and then I hear Bella tell the man to wait. Then she screams at him to stop and he does so, of course with a stupid ass comment. She scrambles off and comes back up to us. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” Jessica storms up to Bella, meeting her halfway. I pinch my nose bridge shaking my head. “I saw something.” Bella was really just speaking to herself. “You are insane. Or suicidal.” Jessica walks in front of us. I observe my sister. “The more dangerous… the more real it was.”

“So, what, you’re like an adrenaline junky now? Go hang-gliding or bungee-jumping. Don’t be a complete freak.” Jessica tells my sister and Bella looks over at me to which I shake my head at her. “That was not okay.” I point to her chest, walking ahead with Jessica.

The next day I decided to do some research on a few things. I guess Bella went to the rez. I would’ve gone if it wouldn’t have been awkward around Sam now. Charlie’s been getting phone calls from Sam every two hours it seems. He’s been practically begging me to just answer it but I have nothing to say to the guy. I scrolled on my laptop, trying to find the myths of the Quileute tribe. Only to find the same ones over and over again about werewolves. I rolled my eyes, accidentally slamming the laptop closed, standing up as I do so. “Shit.” I mutter, I’m gonna have to go to the library the Quileute people have. And usually I get stares from the older generations because they can sense what I am somehow.

Placing my hands on my hips I think about what I’m going to do. Staring at the window I could sneak out of or just tell my dad the truth about where I’m going. I close my eyes and listen in on my dads heartbeat from the other room. It was steady and slowed. Definitely sleeping. That means I have about an hour until he wakes up to try to figure out dinner or whatever. I hurry out of the window and get my motorcycle. Since it’s going to make noise I glance around to see if anyone would be outside. Seeing as it’s clear I rush it down the road before starting it up and speeding down. Hearing the roar of it speed up made me think back to the feeling of jumping off that cliff. The little things that almost make me feel human.

I had to snap out of my thoughts before I get carried away and forget where I was going. Pulling into a parking spot I stared at the building in front of me. Bella said she went here before when she was trying to find out about the Cullens before. I got off my bike and slowly made my way to the building, looking around feeling something watching me. Trying to shake the feeling, I enter the library with a smile. The lady at the front desk goes to smile back but once she looks at me directly her face falls slightly. “Do you have any books on the myths of the incarnates?” I speak up, patiently waiting for her to calm herself down. “Yes, who is it for?” She questions me to which I raise a brow to. Taken a back obviously. “Myself? I am interested in knowing more about them.” I try to give her a smile again but she just gives a dirty look, walking to the back. Knowing she’s not going to want me to follow I just stand still. Moments later she comes back with two books in hand. “Here, books are usually taken out for two weeks, most I can give is maybe three. Unless you’re looking to purchase.” She doesn’t look me in the eye anymore. I figured that’s the response I would’ve gotten. I’m not an idiot. “Two weeks is fine.” I tell her. “Name.”

“[Name] Swan.” I can be just as short too but that’s not how I am. I stick with my sickly sweet attitude and still have a smile on my face. These people obviously have their myths for a reason. I’m not upset that she’s treating me like this because I have no idea the extent of what the vampires have done to her ancestors and others. “Email.” I give the rest of my information out to her and tell her to have a goodnight as I leave. Barely getting a mumble out in return.

I get on my bike, still feeling this odd sense of being watched I look around again. What the hell is going on? I speed off, going around people who decide they should walk in the middle of the road and not on the side walks. Of course getting middle fingers, I do it back.

Getting back to the house I sneak back into my window, hearing my dad’s heart beat still slow and steady I know he hasn’t even woken up. I close my window and turn on my bright ass light that’s on my ceiling. I stare at the books that now lay on my bed, wondering what I’m even going to find out.

I opened the first one. It’s definitely older. I feel like I shouldn’t even be able to hold this in my possession. My eyes scan the first page. The title sending shivers down my spine, “Reincarnate of Gods.”

For hours I read each page, observed each picture, reread many lines and paragraphs. Listening to my sister come through the front door didn’t even faze me. Along with my dad coming into my room numerous times just to stare at me. Not one word was said to me. Not even for dinner for some reason. Maybe he thinks I’m reading for school. Who knows.

I started writing down the information I was getting from the books as well. Knowing that I’m going to have to speak with Billy Black after this. There’s no way I can understand most of this on my own. Like how it says it’s a descendant from the Gods then to the Quileutes. I’m confused to say the least.

I then should’ve been an incarnate for Wolves. And if that’s true I can’t be a vampire. And I am. Most definitely am.

Sorry Tumblr is acting up I had to delete the last one. This one’s editing is a little worse but there’s really not much I can do🙄

#twilight #twilight x reader #alice cullen #bella swan #carlisle cullen #jacob black #jasper whitlock #jasper hale x reader #alice cullen x reader #esme cullen

[tails89]

You want me so bad it makes you look stupid

This is a date, Marisol realises with sudden, dawning clarity. Does Eddie know this is a date? “Well, it’s about time,” Eddie tells Buck and Tommy. “Working out how to hang out with you both was getting exhausting. Hey, why don’t we pull another table over?” Oh god, Eddie doesn’t know this is a date. - AKA, the one where Eddie (unknowingly) wants Buck so bad that it makes him act stupid in a restaurant.

Teaming back up with @an-optimist-prime again because we're hilarious.

It starts like this.

Christopher is at a sleepover. Eddie finally has a night off and for once, has no other plans to hang out with Buck or Tommy or anyone else for that matter, and it’s been so long since it was just the two of them.

Alone. They’ve been dating for four months now, and yet it feels like she barely knows him.

So, Marisol suggests dinner and Eddie suggests the restaurant.

“Buck recommended this place a while back,” Eddie explains when they’re in the car, and Marisol looks out her window and rolls her eyes because of course he did. “It’s just like pizza and pasta, but apparently the food’s pretty good and he’s been wanting to try it out.”

“Uh huh.” Nodding along, Marisol decides then and there not to set her expectations too high. Not that it matters, not really. She cares more about finally finding the time for a date night more than the restaurant itself. She’d be happy with burgers if it meant actually spending some quality time with her boyfriend.

So she’s pleasantly surprised when they step into the restaurant, the bells above the door jingling brightly to announce their arrival.

The lighting is soft and warm, the space mostly lit by ropes of fairy lights and flickering tea candles on the tables.

It’s pretty romantic.

The soft hum of conversation swirls around them as Marisol laces her fingers with Eddie’s and they follow one of the wait staff through the dining room and over to their table.

She stumbles, almost tripping as Eddie suddenly tugs her off to the side.

“Buck!’ He calls out, his voice so loud and excited it echoes above the general buzz, drawing the attention of the diners around them. “You two guys are here together?”

He doesn’t wait for a response, closing the gap between them.

“Marisol, you remember Buck, right?”

She almost laughs, like Eddie doesn’t mention his best friend at least once a day, but before she can mention this she catches Buck’s eye and the deer-in-the-headlights stare he’s giving them.

Huh.

“What are the chances?” Eddie grins. “I mean, Buck was just telling me about this place the other week, but I didn’t expect to actually run into you. And definitely not together.” He laughs, casually leaning against Buck’s chair, oblivious to the way his friend has gone rigid beside him. “So what, you guys are finally friends now?”

“We, uh—”

Marisol watches as Buck swallows, his eyes darting back to look at Tommy.

”Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Tommy’s mouth twitches like he’s trying not to laugh as he meets Buck’s gaze, and—

Oh.

Oh.

Cosy restaurant.

Soft mood lighting.

It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

This is a date, Marisol realises with sudden, dawning clarity. Does Eddie know this is a date?

“Well, it’s about time,” Eddie tells them. “Working out how to hang out with you both was getting exhausting. Hey, why don’t we pull another table over?”

Oh god, Eddie doesn’t know this is a date.

“Eddie,” Marisol says, tugging on his arm. “Maybe we should go find our own table? Just the two of us.”

“What? You guys don’t mind us joining do you?” Eddie asks, and Marisol resists the urge to facepalm. It could not be more obvious that they’re interrupting something. Buck still hasn’t regained any colour in his face, that weird red birthmark by his eye standing out.

Like a stop sign.

Or a traffic light.

That Eddie just casually ploughs through. 3 dead and 47 injured.

Marisol meets Buck’s gaze, wondering if she can communicate ‘I’m so sorry’ in Morse code but all she remembers from middle school is SOS, which still feels appropriate in this situation.

There are now two tables pushed together, and any coded message is lost in the dance of shuffling seats so Buck and Tommy can sit on one side with Marisol and Eddie on the other.

Marisol genuinely does not understand how Eddie cannot see that this is a date. Both men are dressed up, sitting together at a rather fancy and romantic restaurant. She’s not just embarrassed for Buck and Tommy, but also just a little frustrated for herself. All she wants is just one night. Just one night, alone, with the man who is supposed to be her boyfriend. But, once again, that’s apparently not on the cards.

Silence sits heavy over the table as they all regard each other.

“So—” Marisol offers, to break the tension. “How did you two meet?”

“W-work.” Buck stammers.

Marisol nods for him to continue and nothing comes. After a beat, Tommy rescues them with, “we stole a helicopter together, and then flew it into a hurricane.”

”What’s this we?” Eddie cuts in, amused. “Technically you stole the helicopter. Buck and I were just along for the ride.”

Tommy shrugs, his gaze sliding over to Buck. “What can I say? I’m all about grand gestures. “ His hand slips beneath the table. “Especially when I’m trying to get someone’s attention.”

Buck goes red, spluttering into his beer.

“Jesus, Buck.” Chuckling, Eddie passes over a napkin. “What is it with you and choking at restaurants?”

“I’m not—“

”I swear, I can’t take you anywhere,” Eddie teases, handing over more napkins to mop up the mess. “You end up wearing more than you eat.”

”Fuck off,” Buck mutters, but he’s smiling now, staring down at the table.

“S0–“ Marisol cuts in over them. “Helicopters. That’s uh— that’s cute.”

“What’s cute about stealing a helicopter?” Eddie asks, genuinely confused by her comment.

“You know, it’s just— never mind,” she trails off to take a long sip of her table water.

At this point she’s just praying for the ground to open up beneath them. An earthquake or some other natural disaster to take her out of this situation. She just cannot understand how Eddie can be this oblivious.

“So, what other hang-outs have I not been invited to?” Eddie asks, his tone teasing as he leans forward in his seat.

”Just this one,” Tommy says, and there’s a record scratch in Marisol’s head.

Because this…

This is a first date.

They’re on a first date.

Is death by secondhand embarrassment a thing, because she’s pretty sure she’s dying right now.

And here’s the thing. She likes Eddie, she really does, but even she’s starting to re-think her long-term compatibility with someone who is either this clueless or this intentionally obtuse.

“But I’m hoping Evan will want to do this again sometime,” Tommy says, leaning back to sling an arm around Buck’s shoulders. “But next time, I suggest the restaurant.”

Marisol’s lost for a second, because who’s Evan, before realising that Eddie’s frozen beside her.

She turns, catching the exact moment that Eddie realises what’s happening, and what he’s done; that he’s crashed their date.

A series of emotions that she can’t quite parse wash over his face, his expression finally settling into shocked disbelief.

Finally he gets it, she thinks, exasperated. And it’s only taken 13 agonising minutes. At least they haven’t ordered yet.

Eddie’s mouth opens, then shuts, then he says, “You’re not gay.”

Real smooth Eddie, Marisol thinks, resisting the urge to hide her face in her hands.

“I’m bisexual,” Buck says, his voice almost a whisper. “I think? Maybe? I’m not actually sure yet.”

“Right.” Eddie nods, like he’s not quite sure what to do with this information. “I, uh—“ he stands suddenly, knocking into the table in his haste. “We should go. I’m sorry for— we didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Tommy starts. “We still on for Muay Thai on Thursday?”

Eddie stares at him. “I uh— “ he starts, before bolting from the restaurant.

Marisol stands. “I’m so sorry,” she says, glancing back towards the doors as Eddie disappears through them. “I’ll talk to him. I, uh— I hope you have a nice night.”

Neither of them say anything until they’re in the car.

Eddie’s gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white, but he makes no move to start the engine.

Minutes pass in dead silence.

“Are you okay, Eddie?” Marisol shifts, turning in her seat to watch him. “You know, I completely understand,” she says when he still doesn’t respond. “It must have been a bit of a shock to see your two best friends dating each other.”

“I don’t get it,” Eddie murmurs. “Why didn’t he tell me? He’s my best friend. I thought— I tell him everything and he couldn’t— I don’t even know how long this has been going on for.”

Marisol nods, but says nothing. Clearly this is something Eddie needs to get off his chest.

”Like, has this been going on the whole time? I can’t— they hated each other, or— I thought they did. But he should have told me. Buck always tells me when he’s seeing someone.”

Eddie’s hands tighten on the wheel again, the leather creaking beneath his fingers.

”And why wouldn’t he tell me he’s into guys? He’s never said anything. Not that that’s a problem—”

”Of course not,” Marisol reassures him, reaching over to lay a hand on his arm.

“—because he’s my best friend, and I’ll love him no matter what—“

Huh?

“—but because we tell each other everything! We trust each other! I mean, I thought he trusted me. Did I do something? God, I was such an idiot in there. He probably thinks I’m homophobic—“

“Yeah, a little,” Marisol admits gently, giving his arm a pat.

He drops his hands from the steering wheel, his shoulders slumping. ”God, I’m the worst friend ever. To Buck and Tommy.” He straightens suddenly, turning to face her. “But also, like, Tommy?” He asks. “I mean, I like the guy, but Tommy? Sure, he’s better than Taylor, but literally anyone is better than her.”

“Uh,” Marisol doesn’t know how to respond to that. She honestly cannot figure out why Eddie is getting so worked up about all of this. “I mean, I thought Buck and Tommy seemed good together.”

Eddie’s head jerks up.

“You don’t know Buck like I do,” he insists. “Buck is— Buck could have anyone. He’s kind and he’s thoughtful and he’s so hot, and he’s always thinking of others, you know? He is literally the perfect package. And I hate that he never thinks that he’s worth anything. But he’s worth everything.”

Marisol is speechless.

Eddie continues. “Buck could do so much better. He deserves someone who sees him, you know? Who sees the way he loves with his whole self and loves him back. He’s so easy to love.”

Suddenly, everything clicks together for Marisol in perfect clarity.

Eddie is in love with Buck.

Marisol can’t even be mad with Eddie for leading her on, because he clearly doesn’t realise it himself.

She massages her temples against the headache she can feel forming. She wonders, not unkindly, if Eddie’s previous relationships didn’t crash and burn for this exact same reason. Nobody wants to be the third wheel in any relationship, and clearly, she’ll never compare to Buck.

“Also,” Eddie barrels on. “Who the fuck does Tommy think he is, calling him Evan? Does he even know how complicated that name is for him? Only I get to do that!”

”The audacity,” Marisol mutters under her breath.

She has enough self-esteem to know she doesn’t want to deal with this. She’s not exactly excited to kick him while he’s down, but also doesn’t see the point in dragging this out. It’s not fair to either of them.

”I’m going to be honest with you, Eddie,” she says, “I think we should break up.”

Her words stop him in his tracks and he blinks, lost. “Wait, what?”

Marisol turns, reaching for her seatbelt. “Can you please just drive me home?”

***

Tommy is fairly certain he’s just witnessed Eddie have a complete meltdown.

And look, they’ve all been there. They’ve all had that moment where they’ve gotten irrationally jealous over their best friend dating someone, and not been able to —or abjectly refusing to— pinpoint exactly why it’s so upsetting.

The whole situation should be hilarious. It would be hilarious, if Evan didn’t look like he was about to cry.

“Hey,” Tommy reassures him. “It’ll be fine. I think we just surprised him a little.” Or a lot. Probably a lot.

Evan stares up at him. “You think?” He scrubs a hand down his face. “I shouldn’t have suggested this place.”

“There’s no way you could have known he was going to show up,” Tommy points out, casually draping his arm back across Evan’s broad shoulders.

“I should have guessed, knowing my luck.” Evan groans dramatically. “This is the worst first date I think I’ve ever been on.”

“Really?” Tommy asks, incredulously. “Worse than the one where you nearly died?” He smirks at the indignant expression on Evan’s face.

”Where did you even hear about that?” Evan splutters. “And yeah, worse than that.”

”Should I be insulted by that?” Tommy asks, mouth twitching in a smothered laugh.

”It’s not funny,” Evan grumbles, crossing his arms.

“It’s a little funny.”

Evan cracks, his lips lifting in a grin and they’re both laughing, and god he’s beautiful, Tommy thinks.

“Maybe I should check on him,” Evan says, after a moment, his hand reaching for his phone. “Make sure we’re okay.”

”Or,” Tommy suggests, plucking Evan’s phone from his fingers and laying it on the table, “we could get the bill and get out of here. You could come back to my place.”

Evan frowns, but doesn’t move to take his phone back.

”You’re his best friend,” Tommy reassures him. “You guys will figure this out.” And maybe they’ll eventually figure out their feelings for each other too.

Tommy’s not blind. He knows this thing between him and Evan isn’t going to go anywhere in the long run, but he’s hot and sweet and Tommy is just happy to see where this goes.

“Come on, come back to my place.”

Evan smiles. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

#911 spoilers #911 abc #evan buckley #eddie diaz #tommy kinard #7x05 crack spec

[violet-fluff]

Levi x Amnesia! Reader (Ch.1)

New to You

I went with a different approach so I changed the title. Hope you all enjoy.

Intro Chapter: click here

“Why didn’t you tell me she hit her damn head?”

“She said it didn’t hurt, so I didn’t think much of it!”

You can hear arguing as you start waking up. The excessive noise makes your head pound even harder, so you groan in pain.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” A man asked in your ear.

You can feel a rough hand squeeze your own in comfort, making you feel a little better as you slowly open your eyes.

As your vision focuses, your eyes lay on some grey ones. The grey ones look both tired and concerned.

You slowly start sitting up, with the man helping you steady yourself as you lay against the pillows.

“What happened?” You ask while rubbing your head.

The woman with the glasses you saw earlier laughed anxiously. “Well you kind of collided with one of the trainees out on the training field. At least he wasn’t going too fast on the 3D gear!”

“What?” You groan and hold your head as you look around the room. It looks to be you’re in a medical room of the sorts. “Who are you two?”

The man and woman look at each other silently, and the woman speaks up again.

“Y/N, it’s Hanji and Levi?”

“Sorry, it doesn’t ring a bell,” Turning to the man next to you, you jump in surprise, “Wait! You were in bed with me!”

The man, apparently named Levi, stares at you blankly. “Yes, because I’m your husband.”

“Husband?!” You yell in disbelief, “Um no. Ya’ll have the wrong person! I’m not married!”

Hanji takes note of the way you speak. Your accent sounds a little different and you’re using new words that she’s never heard before.

Hanji clears her throat as Levi looks to her for help. “Y/N, on our last mission you hit your head and we both thought you would be fine. That was my mistake because as your squad leader I should have had that checked up on when we got back to base. You must have had some damage to your brain because you woke up this morning with memory loss.” She clasps her hands nervously, “And getting hit at full speed by another person earlier probably didn’t help either.”

‘Mission? Base? Squad leader? Those all sound like military terms.’

“Do I happen to be on a military base?” You ask quietly.

Hanji claps her hands in excitement, thinking your memory is coming back. “Yes! Yes we are!”

You sigh and fall back onto your pillows. “I knew they were coming for me.”

Hanji deadpans. “What?”

You close your eyes. “I knew you guys would be coming for me after I took on my assignment.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Levi asks.

“My research assignment assigned by NASA and Space X. They wanted me to use both cosmology and neuroscience to find the existence of multi-universes.” You sigh, “No need to torture me though, the assignment was a dud. So can I go home now?”

“Y/N what-“ Levi was about to ask what the hell all that meant when Hanji put a hand on his shoulder to quiet him.

“Y/N, I think you’ve had a strange dream? Because you are a soldier in the Survey Corps military. You are not a researcher for those, erm, people, you are talking about?” Hanji tells you gently.

You scrunch your brows together in confusion. “I’m not a soldier and never have been? I mean, I’ve had family in the military if my last name is familiar.”

Levi sighs. “Hanji, this is so confusing. She’s Y/N, and she knows she’s Y/N, but why does she seem like a completely different person. We should really just go get the doctor.”

An idea pops into Hanji’s head. “Y/N, do you mind walking over to the mirror and looking at yourself?”

“Um…ok?”

Levi helps you up but you wave him off when you steady your balance to walk over to the mirror. You stare at yourself in shock and almost scream.

“You guys cut my hair?!” You yell as you pull at the short strands that barely touch your shoulders.

You freeze when you notice another new detail.

Your eyes are a different color.

“What the hell?!” You start poking at your eyeballs, thinking there’s colored contacts on your eyes, and Levi runs over to grab your wrists.

“What the hell are you doing?! Stop!”

You shove him off. “What did you psychos do to me?!”

“Y/N, you look the same!” Hanji is getting nervous that you will run off again.

You grab a surgical knife that’s on a cart next to you and point it at them. “Are you performing experiments on me or something? Is this your form of torture? Wait until word gets out that the military experimented on an innocent scientist!”

Hanji and Levi watch you closely as you start moving towards them with the knife. Levi looks like he’s ready to tackle you, but Hanji tries a more humane approach.

“We are not experimenting on you! Look I’m not sure how jumbled your memories got or if they got twisted with some weird dreams you had while knocked out, but you’re Y/N L/N, you were born inside the walls of Maria, you joined the Survey Corp. ten years ago when you turned seventeen and have been here ever since. I’m your best friend and Levi is your husband of two years.”

“You’re also not a scientist and we have no idea what you’re talking about with the other stuff. We want to help you, but we are just as confused as you are.” Levi chimes in.

You loosen your grip on the knife as you take in what they said. Suddenly, flashes of memories of you in a lab with your lab partner flood into your head. The last you remember, you were working on splitting and combining protons.

“Wait…no… this is a different me!” You drop the knife and jump up and down in excitement. “It exists! The multiverse exists!”

Tag List: comment if you want to be added

@scarletrosesposts @aomi04 @levitonin @levisfavoriteteashop @sleephereicome @dressycobra7

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi attack on titan #attack on titan #levi aot #shingeki no kyojin

[cheesysoup-arlo]

Like a dog

Regina x reader angst?

Warnings: toxic Regina, slur (use of the word lesbo)

I listened to this song for most of the writing process lol

You loved Regina. You loved her so much and you would do anything for her. She was your girlfriend. She wouldn’t tell anyone that but you knew it and that was enough for you.

You’ve noticed Regina being a little more distant than usual since Cady joined the plastics. You didn’t think much of it until rumors of Aaron and Regina dating started spreading.

While hanging out at Regina’s house (with the plastics) you decided to try and bring it up. “Hey Gina, um I-“ before you could even get your words out Regina snapped “What (Y/N)” she said rolling her eyes. “You know never mind I’m probably being ridiculous” you say worried she’ll get mad “No, spit it out, Now” she demanded. “Um so I’ve been hearing rumors that you and Aaron are dating, I know us dating is a secret (only you and the plastics know) but I thought we were only seeing each other?” You say kind of rambling and nervous. “Oh my god you’re being ridiculous” Regina said annoyed “get over yourself, you’re a secret for a reason, people can’t know I’m some lesbo like you and Janis that would be gross” you suddenly felt really small and unwanted something that you weren’t used to feeling especially when you were with your girlfriend. “Yeah, right, exactly, I don’t even know why I brought it up, sorry” you mumbled out. “God you’re so insecure sometimes” Regina says leaning in to kiss you. You kiss her, the mean things she said don’t matter as much as that kiss. Kissing her soft sweet lips meant everything to you.

The next day at school you’re putting your stuff in your locker when Regina calls you over. “(Y/N) come” Regina commanded “Yes?” You say confused walking over to her, she normally doesn’t talk to you much at school. “Gretchen was right you are like a dog, you come crawling to me whenever I call” she laughs a little with her friends. “Ok bye bye puppy, see you later” she says waving you away and laughing. You go to the bathroom to cry. Why was your girlfriend being like this? Doesn’t she love you? You lost track of time while crying and missed class. You wipe your tears, trying to make yourself look presentable before your only class with Regina. When you walk into class you see Regina. You’re not as excited as you normally are but seeing her makes you a little happy even if she’s being mean to you. Regina notices you and says, “come here puppy come sit” she points to the seat next to her and of course you follow. Regina pulls you in for a kiss, she never does that in public so you were shocked. “Regina there’s people” you say worried. She rolls her eyes “just be grateful I kissed you” you decide being quiet would be the better option. Regina’s behavior confused you. “Meet me at my car during lunch” Regina whispered in your ear. You just nod. Lunch was after next period. When the bell rang you packed up your things to head to art. You bumped into someone. “Ow fuck sorry” you say picking up the stuff you dropped. “It’s ok” says a familiar voice. “Oh hi Janis” “hi (Y/N), heading to art?” “Um yeah, you know I sit like right behind you” “yeah I know but sometimes you ditch so I was just curious” Janis jokes making you laugh a little. You two walk to art together, talking a little about your recent projects. Rumors start spreading when the two openly out lesbians are seen walking together in the halls and laughing. You don’t go on your phone in art. So to your surprise when you open your phone after the bell rings for lunch and see loads of messages and post about you and Janis. And two text from Regina

Regina 💕: get your ass to my car

Regina💕: NOW

uh oh she’s angry. You run to her car. “Hey Regina” “get in the car” you do what you’re told. “So you’re cheating on me?” “WHAT NO” “oh come on (Y/N) why else would you be talking and giggling with Janis” “um maybe because I have art with her” “I don’t want to see you around her anymore” she kisses you then continues “you’re mine” you blush due to her possessiveness even if she only talked like this in private. “All yours” you say. She kisses you again. “Oh one more thing, don’t bring up Aaron anymore he’s being like so annoying and tried to kiss me” “ok” you say leaning in to kiss her again. She kisses you back kinda rough, biting your bottom lip then sticking her tongue in your mouth to assert dominance. You moan. “Oh you like that” Regina chuckles. You’re embarrassed and hide your face. She grabs you chin and makes you look at her “I want you to come over tonight after the girls leave” “ok?” You say a little confused “you’re gonna be a good little puppy and do whatever I say, ok?” You nod. “Good, now get out, I’ll see you tonight.” You leave a little confused but also excited because you get to see Regina later.

A/N: this has been in my notes app for like 3 days because I couldn’t tell if this was worth posting but here you go

#mean girls #regina george x reader #regina george #Spotify

[asmutwriter]

The Gangsta's Wife (Part 7)

DESCRIPTION: You decide to give Tommy some big news at the reopening of the Garrison

WORD COUNT: 2721

A/N - I had a dream about Thomas Shelby last night. He was chasing me through a mansion and I had to hide from him. It was very intense. Guess thats what happens when you watch Peaky Blinder highlights before going to sleep

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List  

WARNINGS: swearing, talk of violence, mild threat of violence, pet names (love), drinking, smoking, pregnancy, smoking whilst pregnant (social norm for the time period), Inspector Campbell being himself

DISCLAIMERS

This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

This story does not follow the timeline of the show

Not been proof read

It had been a couple of months since your meeting with Harry Thompson. He kept his word. Leaving Birmingham soon after your blackmail. Since then the Shelby family has been more kind towards you. By that you mean you don't feel like they want to kill you every time you enter a room.

You'd attended a few more family meetings as well. But most issues or problems were being resolved within the main family circle. You were appreciative of attending the discussions though. They were certainly more open towards you. Polly even asking how your day has been - on more then one occasion!

But then Thomas got attacked. Horribly. Brutally. You’re surprised he’s still alive to be honest. So sure that he’d die at the hospital where you sat with him until he gained consciousness. When he did, he told you to 'stop fussing and fuck off'. Glad to know that the attack didn’t change him. You left him to heal.

He went to London for a few days. You weren’t sure why. But he left Polly in charge of all Peaky business. You tried questioning her on why Thomas had left but she only responded with 'its none of your business'. Looking back on it you don’t think she knew.

It was a Tuesday morning. Scrubbing the mud from your sister's dress (she had fallen over right into a puddle) in your kitchen. Opening the back door you go and hang the newly washed dress up on the washing line in the garden. Going back inside the house you shut the door. Turning around to go back to the living room, you jump as you see a figure. Gripping at your chest as your husband stands in the door way. A smile of amusement coming over his face as he realises he made you jump.

"Jesus no need to scare me like that"

"I’m sorry love. Wasn’t my intention". A silence filling the room. You go over to a cabinet. Taking out a whiskey bottle. He grabs out two glasses, placing them down by you. You speak as you pour.

"I’m glad to see you looking better"

"I don’t think I could’ve looked much worse" you chuckle slightly. Putting the lid back onto the drink before sliding his glass to him. Him standing next to you but sideways on as he picks up his drink. You take yours. Turning towards him as you hold your drink in one hand. The other folding over your torso.

"Where did you go?"

"Did Polly not tell you?"

"I know you went to London but that’s all she told me” he nods. Taking a sip of his drink. “I just wondered why?"

"I had some business to attend to regarding Ada"

"Is she ok? I know that she got attacked too"

"She will be. She’s a strong willed woman. Plus I’ve given her a new home and protection for her and her son" you nod. Watching as he downs his drink. "I also had to do some business with Alfie Solomons". You furrow your brow at the name. It ringing a vague bell from when you lived in London

"Runs a Jewish gang correct?" he nods. Turning to face the counter as he places his glass back down on the side. Taking the whiskey bottle and pouring himself another drink.

"Have you met him before?"

"No. I only know the name in passing. Got told to stay away from him as he bad news and couldn’t be trusted". Tommy pauses in his actions. Hand around the glass but still on the counter top as he takes in your words. He goes into his pocket. Taking out a few coins and placing them stacked up on the side near you. You look at the small pile.

"I want you to buy a new dress"

"For what occasion?"

"The grand reopening of the Garrison" you stay silent. Thinking over your words before speaking.

"Mr Shelby... is opening the pub a good idea given the recent events? Would it be best to wait until the current threwat is dealt with before rebuilding?". He sips his drink again.

"I want those to know that the Peaky Blinders can rise from any downfall they have" he turns to face you. Drink still in hand as he points in the direction of the pub. "This is the way that we show those fuckers that it'll take a lot more to take down the Shelby family". He downs his drink. Placing the glass onto the table.

"So I’d like you to go out and buy yourself a new dress for this special occasion" he brings a hand up. Resting it onto your cheek as he meets your eyes. Yours soft as you watch his piercing blue orbs. "Lets show those bastards not to fuck with us, eh?". A soft smile comes over your lips as he drops his hand.

It took about a month to rebuild the Garrison. It was hard work but my goodness it payed off. Tommy had shown you it before anyone else. Before the big reopening he took you to see the grand building. Standing tall and proud.

It was the day of the reopening. You’d done as your husband had asked you to do. Gone out and bought a fancy new dress. So here you were. Sitting at the bar. Cigerette in hand as you watch your husband talking with his guests. You snuff out your smoke in the ashtray nearby before going over to him. Gently resting your hand on his arm. He looks at you. His smile softening in feature as he meets your gaze.

"Can I talk with you? Alone?" he nods. The smile seeming to fade marginally at your request. You take his hand. Leading him to a back room. Shutting the door. He watches you. His eyes filled with a confusion as you take his hand. Leading him to a table. You sit down. Him sitting opposite you.

"What is it love?". You look down. Fiddling with your wedding ring. His hand gently takes your chin. Bringing your head up to meet his eyes "what’s on your mind?"

"I’ve been thinking about it and I-" you cut yourself off. You dart your eyes over his features before asking "Can you teach me how to fight?". The request seeming to shock him. Before he can respond you carry on talking. "I saw what they did to you. I know what they did to your sister. And she lives hundreds of miles away. I’m concerned that myself and my sisters are at risk here. I’m sorry I’ve only just brought it up now but given the current situation I-".

"Hey" he moves his hands. Cupping your face as he makes you look at him "So long as you remain a Shelby then you have the protection of myself and the Peaky Blinders. I know I was gone for a while but you will always be safe. I promise you that"

"I would feel safer if I could fight... rather then relying on you to keep me safe..." his eyes dart between yours. Trying to read your expressions. Before he can say anything else you speak again. Quieter this time. Voice barely above a whisper. "I’d like to be able to keep the baby safe...". He stays silent. His eyes flashing with emotions. So quick you can’t read them. Them darting downwards to look at your stomach before coming back up to your features. Mere seconds feel like hours as silence consumes you. You bring your hands up. Holding his wrists as he continues to hold your face. "Please say something".

"It is my duty as your husband to keep you and our child safe. So long as I live I will ensure that. If you wish to learn to fight after our child is born then I will teach you. But you won’t learn whilst you are carrying my babe". He leans forward. Kissing your forehead. You shut your eyes. Nodding as you feel him watch you again. "You are safe Mrs Shelby. I promise". You open your eyes as you feel him stand. Looking up at him as he drops your face. Taking your hands with his. Pulling you up. "Shall we go and tell everyone else the news about the new family member?" he smiles. You nod. Taking his arm as he leads you back out into the crowd.

You wait for the other guests of the party to leave before informing your in-laws. Your sisters are the first to hug you. Wrapping your arms around them both. Tommy's siblings congratulate him first. Ada coming over to you and hugging you too. After your sisters finally let you go. Her giving you affection isn’t shocking. What does surprise you is when Arthur hugs you.

"Well done girl" he says. Genuine joy and happiness in his voice as he hugs you close. You smile at his affection. More due to the symbolism of them accepting you as a family member rather then the hug itself. He moves away. Seeing John Boy practicly hitting Thomas's shoulder as he congratulates him. Your youngest sister takes your arm in hers.

"You know, Mary is a very good name" you roll your eyes

"You can’t suggest your own name” Luz says. Turning her attention from the youngest sibling back up at you “But, on the topic of names, Elizabeth is a very good name" Causing you to laugh.

"You two are as bad as each other" you say. A smile on your face as you contiue to talk with them. You meet Polly's gaze. Cigarette in her hand as what appears to be sadness glazes over her eyes. She nods slightly at you. You give a soft smile and a nod in return before your sisters drag you back to their conversation.

The time flew by. You were around 5 months pregnant. At a small party that was hosted by one of Tommy's aquaintences up in London. You knew your purpose for this party. An accessory to make your husband look good. To make him look approachable. So you stuck by his side the whole party. Your arm linked with his as people came and chatted with you both.

That’s when you noticed a shift in his demeanor. His friendly persona he had on changing. Feeling his arm tense under yours. Although you were getting better at figuring out your husbands thoughts and feelings you still found him incredibly difficult to read. You look at him. Following his gaze. It falling onto a middle aged gentlemen with a cane. You look back at him. You may struggle to figure out what’s going through his head. But you knew that he must know this man.

"Mr Shelby? Is everything ok?"

"We should be going Flo" he turns his back to the man. Forcing you to turn with him as your arm remains on his.

"Who is that man?" you whisper.

"Someone who I reluctantly do business with. Who I'd much rather put a bullet between his eyes then engage in small talk". You look at your husband. Mild shock filling you. He rarely uses violent language around you. He swears a lot but he never talks about violence or commiting violent acts towards people whilst in your prescence. Not even in a joking manner. So for this to be said you know he must be quite a character.

"Lets leave then. If you’ve finished all the other busniness you need for the day" before either of you can make a decision you hear an Irish voice speak.

"Thomas Shelby". Turning to face the man. Him having walked over to you both. You follow suit. Standing slightly behind your husband. Arm interlocked with his as you feel his body tense mildly. "I'll be damned to see you here. You’re a long way from Birmingham aren’t you?"

"I could say the same about you" the man smiles. His eyes falling to you. Raking over your body.

"And who is this pretty thing you’ve got with you?". Thomas clenches his jaw slightly. Watching the man as you cling to him more.

"Inspector Campbell this is Florence Shelby. My wife" he holds a hand out towards you. You take it. Shaking it as a way to deem polite.

"Its a pleasure to meet you ma'am” his eyes fall to your stomach before meeting your eyes again “I can see that a congratulations are in order. What with the marriage and the pregnancy" he motions towards your belly. You half smile.

"Thank you Mr Campblell. We really shou-"

"I never pictured you as the marriage type though Mr Shelby. Not with your reputation"

"Time changes people" he says. Eyes boring into the man. You could feel the testestorone start to build. Turning slightly to your husband. Your hands tightening around his arm.

"I need some air. Come join me" he drops his death glare off of the man. The stare softening as they meet your calming eyes. He nods. Excusing yourselves from the man as you head outside. You sit on a small bench. Hand resting on your stomach as you shut your eyes.

Hearing the soft strike of a match you open your eyes. Tommy lighting a cigarette. Resting it on his lips. You hold your hand out. Him taking a puff from it before placing it in your hand. Watching as you inhale the smoke. Resting your hand on your knee as you exhale. Looking back at the room where the party is.

"Do we have to stay for much longer? Im growing tired"

"We'll stay for a little bit longer. It’s not ideal the detective being here’s but I still have some business left to do” you hold your hand up. Letting him take the smoke from you as he takes a drag from it before speaking again. "If you’re tired then stay out here. You’ve done more then your far share today. You should rest for a little while" you nod. Half smiling at him

"I'll come back inside in a bit. Just want to have some fresh air" he nods. Gently squeezing your shoulder before handing you the cigar. Heading back inside as you take a few more puffs. Placing the butt on the ground. Snuffing it out with your shoe. You watch as you see the crowds of people inside. Spotting your husband talking with someone. The main person you know he wants to make a deal with.

You go to stand up. Wanting to go and help make a good impression. Struggling slightly as you push yourself up. "You ok there Mrs Shelby?" you hear a familiar voice say. Turning you see the inspector. You nod, a soft but half genuine smile on your face

"I’m fine Mr Campbell. If you excuse me I need to go find my husband" turning away you hear him speak.

"You know" he comes over to you. "I can help you". You talk as you turn to face him again.

"Excuse me?". A few more steps. Any closer and he’d be touching you.

"A young, pretty woman such as yourself being dragged into the world of Thomas Shelby. I can’t believe that it was due to your love or affections for him" you go to say something but he cuts you off "I know what your going to say. That you love him and that he cares for you. But I know the truth. That he somehow pulled you into his world of fighting and gangs and you can’t get out” another step closer as his voice darkens “I can give you a way out. Let me help you" he brings a hand up. Going to stroke your cheek. You step back. Shocked by his forward tone. Your hand going to your stomach as a form of protection to your unborn child.

"You know nothing about me or my husband and the life that we have together. We trust each other wholeheartedly and I would never do anything to get rid of that"

"He'll never love you. You do know that, right? You might think he does. Or that he will. That you can change him. But you can’t. You will always be just an object for him to manipulate to his own advantage".

"And what? You think you could give me a different life?" You keep your eyes steady and fixed on his. His eyes remaining on yours as you keep your ground.

"I could give you the affection and love he isn’t capable of showing you. Care for you in a way that a man like him won’t"

You take a step towards him. Anger flashing through your eyes as you spit your words at him. "I am going to go back to my husband. The man who’s child I am carrying. I will be leaving with him back to our home. To our shared bed. Do you understand me Mr Campbell?" He watches you. Nodding. "Good. Goodnight" you turn. Walking back to your husband as he continues to chat with his soon to be new business partner. Linking an arm with him as he introduces you as his wife.

Previous / Next

TAGS

@whorecrux-of-slytherin @kkrenae @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo

#smut #fluff #angst #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy angst #cillian murphy fluff #peaky blinders #peaky blinders angst #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fluff #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #thomas shelby fluff #thomas shelby angst #thomas shelby smut #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby smut #peaky blinders tommy #peaky blinders tommy shelby #peaky blinders thomas shelby #peaky blinders thomas #peaky blinders tommy fluff #peaky blinders tommy smut #peaky blinders tommy angst #peaky blinders thomas angst #peaky blinder thomas fluff #peaky blinders thomas smut #tommy x reader

[togrowoldinv]

In the Dark

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When the power goes out, Natasha tries to make the most of it

Note: This is soft Mama Nat! Inspired by me going on my 10th hour of no power at my home due to high winds and tree damage 😬 but this is all fluff! Follow my library blog @togrowoldinvlibrary for updates! Enjoy!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

“No, no, no!” You shout as your computer cuts off right as you were uploading a document.

You hear feet running towards your office and Nat is at your side in seconds.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, looking you over with urgency.

“The power,” you mumble. You cross your arms and Nat chuckles a little.

“You look like our kids when you pout like that,” she says with a smirk.

“Stop being cute, Natasha. I’m upset,” you say, but you can’t help but smile.

“Come on. Let’s check on the babies,” she says.

She reaches out her hand and you take it. You’ll never get over the giddiness that her hand in yours makes you feel.

You walk to the dining room together and see that the kids are happily still doing the puzzle. All except for the youngest, Taylor, who sits in the oldest’s lap fast asleep.

“Why is it so quiet?” Belle, the second youngest girl, asks.

You and Natasha hang by the door and listen in on your children’s conversation.

“The power went out,” Ali answers.

“What does that mean?” She asks. She’s at five years old and all she does is ask questions.

“Well, it’s really windy today so the power lines are probably just blown down,” Ivan explains.

“Yeah, probably some trees too,” Jack adds.

“Oh,” Belle remarks. She starts getting a little nervous. You can tell by the way she wraps her arms around herself and scoots back from the table.

Natasha steps in.

“And the power will be back in no time I’m sure,” she says, coming behind Belle to wrap her in a hug. She instantly relaxes in her embrace.

“Mama’s right. Let’s make the most of this time together, okay?” You join in.

“Okay!” Everyone agrees.

For a couple hours, the family keeps working on the puzzle. But as the night draws near you realize there isn’t much hope for the lights coming back on.

You’re brainstorming what you could make for dinner without power when there’s a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it!” Belle runs towards the door, but is stopped by Natasha. The little girl almost runs into her legs.

“Krasivaya, what did I say about opening the door without an adult?” Natasha gently scolds.

“To not do it,” Belle replies.

“Exactly,” she says. “Now come on.”

Natasha grabs her hand walks to the door. Through the peephole, she can see it’s Yelena. She gives Belle permission to open the door.

“My beautiful Belle!” Yelena immediately greets the little girl.

“Auntie Yelena!” Belle hugs her legs tightly.

“So much yelling,” Nat mumbles as she gestures for Yelena to walk inside.

“I can’t help that I’m so cool,” Yelena says. “Now I heard that you were without power, so I brought dinner.”

Natasha smiles at her sister’s thoughtfulness. She hugs her.

“You’re my hero, mini poser!” You thank her for the food with a hug. She hugs you back easily.

With the only candles you can find lit, and everyone’s phone flashlights on the table, you enjoy a family dinner in the mostly dark kitchen.

It’s full of laughs and smiles as you enjoy the time together.

“Okay kiddos, it’s time for bed,” you tell them after you’ve cleaned up dinner.

“It’s so early!”

“Yeah! Too early!” Come the grumbles from your kids.

“Okay, okay. Let’s play one round of cards and then bed?” Natasha suggests.

“Three rounds and we bet with Oreos,” Ali counters.

“I’m in!” Jack and Ivan say at the same time, resulting in a high five from each other.

“Me too!” Belle agrees, but her eyes are getting heavy. She rests heavily against Yelena’s front as the blonde holds her close. She’s always been her favorite.

“Alright alright,” you agree. “Let’s do it.”

Three rounds turns into ten rounds and you spend hours playing cards. Belle is asleep by the fourth round and everyone else is fading fast.

You decide to stop and everyone takes turns with the flashlight getting ready for bed.

“Can we have a sleepover?” Ali asks. She’s older now, but still not a fan of the dark.

“That’s a great idea, Al. Everyone grab your blankets and pillows!” You say.

The whole family lays in the living room together, some on the floor and some on the couch.

“Goodnight, my loves,” you say. A chorus of goodnights fills the room.

“Thank you for making today still so much fun, Nat,” you thank your wife, snuggling into her arms.

“Of course, detka. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You kiss her lips softly.

The power stays off as you drift to sleep, but you know for sure that the sun will rise again.

And nothing, even a citywide outage, is dark enough to keep the light that Natasha brings into this world from shining over you and your family.

She is absolutely perfect.

Your bright spot in a dark day.

And your everything.

#natasha romanoff x reader #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff #once again if anyone needs clarification on the kiddos ages and all that just ask #yelena belova #mini poser hehe

[thelittlearanarathatcould]

All The Ways To Say “You Mean The World To Me”

Alhaitham x female reader

Warnings -> Fluff, use of several different languages (Google translate was involved so apologies if anything is incorrect), one comfort scene

The lamp on the desk provided ample light, the patter of rain hitting the window filling the quiet study. Paper crinkled as pages turned, teal-brown eyes soaked up information and filed it away for later. A warm cup of coffee filled the air with a pleasant aroma, the steam rising from the cup setting a cozy mood. The house was silent, not a peep from his roommate who may or may not have left the house already.

The creak of the door opening couldn’t be missed, nor could the quiet tapping of shoes against the wooden floor. “All this time we’ve been together and only now am I finding out you can speak multiple languages?”

The scribe didn’t look up from his book, but that didn’t stop the woman from taking a seat in the chair across from him. She crossed her arms and rested them on the surface of the table, waiting for a reply.

Alhaitham turned the page. “It never came up.”

“Could have come up while we were getting to know each other. I told you about my treasured stuffed bear from my dad, yet somehow, you completely missed that aspect of yourself.”

His gaze finally lifted to meet hers. “You do know I graduated from Haravatat, right? I thought my knowledge in languages would have been a given.”

(Y/N) puffed her cheeks out in a way that reminded him of the pufferfish swimming in the river near Port Ormos. “You and I both know you’re the smart one in the relationship, not me.” Her eyes suddenly lit up, lips curling into a grin as she reached across the table to place her hands on top of his. “Say something romantic in another language.”

“Why?”

She bounced in her seat. “Please?”

Alhaitham sighed and flipped his hand so he could properly hold hers. He thought for a moment, then, he spoke. “Poté den tha agapíso perissótero tin antanáklasí mou ótan emfanisteí sta mátia sou.”

𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴.

(Y/N) giggled as her hand squeezed his. “What does that mean?”

“It means you spend too much time with my roommate, and that he’s a bad influence on you.”

Her shoulders dropped, lips pulling into a pout. “You suck.”

Alhaitham lifted her hand and placed a kiss against her knuckles, then went back to reading. “If you would like to borrow a few of my old books, you are more then welcome to translate what I said yourself.”

“No, forget it. Something tells me I’d rather not know.” Pulling free from his grasp, she stood up. “But, thanks to you, I lost my bet with Kaveh so I’m off to suffer defeat now. Bye bye.”

She spun on her heel and skipped out the door. (Y/N) came into his life like a whirlwind and the winds haven’t been calm since. Though, at this point, the man felt a silent breeze would be eerie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sight of (Y/N) in the kitchen was much more welcome then walking in to find the other resident raiding a fridge he didn’t fill. Any room she was in took on a new sense of home, but in the early morning light, surrounded by the smell of coffee and breakfast, Alhaitham was slowly but surely starting to associate the first hours of a new day with this woman.

Alhaitham walked up behind (Y/N) as she stood at the counter chopping up a bell pepper and wrapped his arms around her waist, chin falling to rest on her shoulder.

She jumped, the knife almost falling from her hand. “Archons, Alhaitham! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry. I thought you heard me coming.” He kissed the side of her neck as an apology. “Cítíš se tak dobře v mém náručí.”

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴.

(Y/N) snorted and added the diced peppers into the egg mixture. “What did you say this time? That the egg to pepper ratio is off?”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “No. I said I’ll start making the coffee.”

“Good, make yourself useful.” Pulling open the cabinet above her head, she grabbed a mug and held it out. “You know how I like mine.”

The scribe chuckled and took the mug, giving her waist a gentle squeeze before releasing her. “Pokud jsi teď tak drzý, nemůžu se dočkat, až uvidím, jak odvážný se staneš, když ti navléknu prsten na prst.”

𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳.

“What was that?” The woman asked, shooting him a pointed look.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey,” The sound of his roommate’s voice almost made him scowl. “(Y/N) just got here. She looks upset.”

Leaving the sentence he was reading unfinished, Alhaitham set his bookmark between the pages and closed the cover. “Where is she?”

Kaveh, who was leaning against the doorframe, jerked his head towards the hallway. “She went straight to your room. I tried to ask what was bothering her, but I guess she needs her boyfriend more then her childhood friend right now.”

Alhaitham ignored the venom that slipped out with the word ‘boyfriend’. He could understand Kaveh’s frustration to some extent - the blond, much like everyone else, had no idea romantic feelings would spark between his best friend and non-preferred roommate. If he thought something like this would happen in advance, he never would have started inviting her over.

Walking past Kaveh, Alhaitham navigated the house until he reached the door connecting to his bedroom. He turned the handle and entered, immediately spotting a figure sitting on his bed, the blanket covering them completely.

Closing the door, he approached and sat on the side of the bed. “Are you going to hide under there all evening, or would you like to share what’s got you so upset?”

His choice of words weren’t the gentlest but his tone was soft and his volume low. (Y/N) never seemed to mind his blunt way of communicating, but early on he learned that while his choice of words didn’t phase her, his tone did. The worst argument they’ve ever had revolved around such a thing.

The blanketed figure sniffled. “It’s just been a bad day, Alhaitham. I was told my presentation was cancelled only to learn that the professor choose to replace me with someone else instead. I’ve spent months putting this presentation on behalf of my darshan together for the little ones.”

You didn’t need to explain - Alhaitham knew how excited you were when the Akademiya contacted you with the offer, he knew how dedicated you were when selecting the topic and angle you wanted to take, knew the hours you sacrificed researching and fact-checking. He knew how bad you wanted this, and part of him felt that if he had agreed to become grand sage, he could have prevented this. ‘No. This isn’t anyone’s fault. It’s just how things happened.’

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I know how badly you wanted this opportunity.” Alhaitham wasn’t the bed at comforting others. His expertise laid in fact and logic, not soothing words. “I doubt it was personal. The reason for the switch could simply be because the Akademiya determined the other party’s research to be more compelling.”

Finally, she pulled the blanket off her head and let it fall around her shoulders. Her cheeks were damp with smeared tears, eyes still glossy. “I can accept that, as much as it hurts. I want my darshan to be represented it’s best to the youth. It’s what the scholar said that’s bothering me more…”

The scribe titled his head. “Go on.”

She lowered her gaze. “She said I was an embarrassment. Not only to the Akademiya, but to you, too.” A short, pitiful laugh escaped her. “I don’t know what’s more pathetic. The fact that I’m so bothered by it, or the fact that it’s true.”

“That is not true. Not in the slightest.” Alhaitham said with a shake of his head. “You have more then proven that you deserve the standing you have within the Akademiya. As for me, when have I ever cared for outside opinions? The only voices that matter regarding our relationship is ours.” He paused. “Have you ever been embarrassed of me?”

She shook her head. “No, of course not. I’m proud to have you, Alhaitham.”

“I share the same sentiment.” Cupping her wet cheeks in his hands, he wiped the tear steaks away with his thumbs. “Wenn jemand in mein Leben treten und mich dazu bringen musste, mich zu verlieben, bin ich froh, dass du es warst.”

𝘐𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘐'𝘮 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

Tilting her head down a little, he leaned over and pressed a lingering kiss just below her hairline. He felt her posture relax as she hummed.

“Are you ever gonna tell me what it is you’re really saying?” She asked.

“When I feel like it.” He smiled at her. “Just be patient. One day, you’ll know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

The skies of Sumeru were painted in pastels of pink and purple, highlighted with gold as it stretched over the rainforest. The river sparkled beneath the light of dusk, the sounds and smells of nature pleasant background noise. Alhaitham sat in the grass, his back against a tree, one hand holding a book while the other traced shapes onto the thigh of the woman sitting between his legs. She leaned against his chest, absorbed in a book of her own.

Reaching a good stopping point, Alhaitham glanced at the sky and calculated how much daylight he would have left. ‘Better get to it now.’

He closed his book and set it on the ground next to him. His movements pulled the woman from her story. “Are you ready to go?”

“Not just yet. I have something for you, actually.”

Reaching for the bag he brought with him on this outing, he pulled out a leather notebook and waited for her to set her book down before passing it off. Alhaitham couldn’t see her face, but he could perfectly picture the confused look she was undoubtedly wearing.

Alhaitham watched over her shoulder as she removed the strap that kept the journal closed and opened it. The first page, and dozens of other pages laying in wait to be read, were filled with his handwriting. To be more specific…

(Y/N) gasped suddenly. “No way. Is this…?” She quickly flipped through a few more pages as if checking to be sure. “Are these translations?”

The scribe hummed. “Of everything I’ve ever said to you in foreign languages? Yes.”

“I can’t believe this.” Her voice was quiet with disbelief but so full of astonishment. “All this time, all these years, you’ve been writing this stuff down. Why not just tell me what you were saying in the moment?”

“Because I was waiting for today.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her further against him. “Go to the last page.”

She did without question, but once she reached it, her head titled in confusion. “You didn’t translate this one.”

“I figured you would prefer it if I translated that one in person.” Alhaitham said, removing one of his arms from her waist so he could reach into his pouch. “Visne me nubere?’ It’s a simple question, but the most important question anyone can ask their partner. To translate,” Flipping the lid of the little black box open, he presented her with the ring. “𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘦, (𝘠/𝘕)?”

(Y/N) gasped again and clasped a hand over her mouth, body turning so she could stare at him with watery eyes. “Are you freaking serious?”

“Would I have bought you a ring if I wasn’t?”

She squealed and threw her weight into him, arms wrapping tightly around his neck. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you, Alhaitham!”

A weight lifted off his shoulders as he gave her body a gentle squeeze, face burying in the crook between his neck and shoulder as he breathed his fiancée in. “I love you, (Y/N). So, so much.”

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥. 𝘓𝘦𝘵’𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?

#genshin alhaitham #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham