#also im sure these plans were laid out a long time ago...???

[anotherpapercut]

literally seeing people say we shouldn't blame Biden for his plan being struck down sjavdkns you guys just have no idea what's going on do you

#'hes already formulating another plan!' yeah well i mean thats his job so #also im sure these plans were laid out a long time ago...??? #anyway the point is he should have known it would be struck down because every other sane person knew that #and he should have done something to actually prevent that from happening in the first place #just like he shouldve done something to protect roe v wade and affirmative action and the epa and navajo water rights and and and and #he has repeatedly refused to even touch court reform! #do you guys know how the new deal happened?? #FDR fully threatened the supreme court. he said hed add justices who were on his side to dilute the courts power #this is called packing the court. and the threat worked. they allowed the new deal to go forward #i wonder how something like this couldve been implemented while dems have the senate majority #hmmmmmmm. it's a mystery! guess there was just absolutely nothing biden or obama couldve done ever to prevent this </3

[strawmyberry]

aaa omg i absolutely loved your headcanons they are so cute!! 💗 also im tumblr is being mean 😭 i hope everything gets fixed soon <33

aa do you think you could maybe write something with kenny?? lee or ler is fine, anything you want!! your hcs for him are just so adorable i can't choose which side i like more 😭 i honestly am just looking forward to anything you have planned <3 tysm!! i hope you have a good day! 💗💗

aaaa!!! toast you are the sweetest 🥹 thank you so much for all the love and support!! it truly means the world! im so sorry this took so long!!! i hope it’s at least a little bit worth it- im still trying to get into the swing of things- so im sorry if it isn’t the best! also it has a super long intro sorry sorry sorry!! i hope you guys enjoy!!! (first fic yayyyy!!!)

— ❤️🍓 strawberry 🍓❤️

🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓

Swallow Your Pride!

Lee Kenny / Ler Stan and Kyle

Word Count: 3,038

With Cartman in Nebraska for the first few weeks of summer, Stan and Kyle think a celebration is in order! Kenny is a bit iffy on the idea; but every problem can be solved with just a little bit of friendly persuasion!

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

“Oh shit, dude. I’m so sorry to hear that.”

That day had started like any other. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and even though it was summer, the snow kept snowing. Softer than it normally would, sure, but the snow was a bit of a damper on the Teen Beach Movie summer that Stan had secretly been yearning for. 

It wasn’t hard to believe that Stan expected today to go like it typically would: a casual hang-out, at his house, with his friends, the four of them having a fun little Mortal Kombat: Onslaught tournament. 

“No! No, really, I am! It’s not gonna be the same without you, man. How long are you gonna be there for?” 

But it seemed like fate had other plans today. With his phone held against his ear, Stan would pace around his living room as he spoke. Kyle sat criss-cross-applesauce on the floor while Kenny laid on his side behind him, resting his head comfortably on one of Stan’s throw pillows. They were (not so) patiently awaiting Cartman’s arrival. They wanted to start kicking some ass already!

Every now and then Kyle would manage to make eye contact with Stan, shooting him a look that could only be described as a mixture of irritation and confusion. “Where the fuck is he? What’s taking so long?” He’d whisper, crossing his arms tight against his chest as Stan held up his “give me a second” finger. He’d grumble a bit at that, adding an eye roll to the mix. They could’ve started thirty minutes ago if Cartman came when he was supposed to! 

“Yeah.” Stan would pause, nodding his head. He’d turn, his eyes bouncing between Kyle and Kenny. “No, don’t worry. I’ll tell them.” He’d say, turning back around as he’d begin pacing a bit more. That seemed to peek Kyle’s attention even more, now turning to Kenny with a raised brow. 

“What do you think they’re talking about? What excuse is Cartman gonna try to pull this time?” He’d ask, trying his hardest to keep his volume low. He had never really been the best whisperer. 

“I don’t know..” Kenny would shrug, getting up from his comfortable laying position to be able to hear better. 

“Maybe he died.” Kyle would joke, letting out an overdramatic sigh. “That would be fucking awesome, wouldn’t it?” He’d add, cupping his hands together in a wistful Disney princess pose. 

Kenny couldn’t help but let a few giggles slip at Kyle’s dramatics, beginning to tighten his parka. Kyle would start softly chuckling to himself as a result of Kenny’s infectious laugh, being quick to shush Kenny while still staring at Stan intently. “Shhh! Duhude, shut up! I can’t hear!” He’d whisper through his own giggles, batting his hand at him. 

“I hear you. Okay. Yeah. I’ll let them know.” Stan would stop his pacing, now beginning to walk himself back to the center of the living room. Kyle’s giggles slowly faded as he analyzed Stan’s facial expression. He looked…upset. Shit. Did something genuinely happen? He was only joking about Cartman dying-!

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you later. Bye, dude.” 

Stan would wait for the click, shifting his eyes from his phone to the two curious boys sitting in front of him. He looked…sad. The somber expression on his face scaring away the playful atmosphere that had once graced the room. Kyle couldn’t help but hesitate before asking his next question. 

“…What happened?”

Stan would blink at that question, staring at his phone again before slowly sliding it into his pocket. “Kyle…it’s Cartman…” Stan would start, his tone heavy and serious. Oh god. Kyle would begin mentally preparing himself. He prayed to God that Stan wouldn’t start crying. He couldn’t handle Stan crying. But, after a split second, it was apparent he wouldn’t have to worry about that at all.

“Cartman’s gone for two weeks!” 

The mood in the room completely changed. Stan’s face completely changed. The frown on his face turned itself around real quick, now replaced with one of the most vibrant smiles Kyle had ever seen. Dramatic asshole. That was his first thought. After he had comprehended what Stan said though, he had a completely different thought. 

“You’re shitting me!”

“I’m not! I’m not shitting you!” 

“You’re not shitting him?”

“No! No, I’m not! Cartman’s-“

“Dude!”

“-going to Nebraska-“ 

“No way!” 

“-to see his family! For two weeks!” 

“Thank you, GOD!” Kyle would cheer, jumping up from the floor. “Dude we gotta- we gotta do something!” Kyle could hardly contain himself as he celebrated. Deep down, he wanted to burst out into song. ‘The Witch Is Dead’ sounded like a pretty good option at the moment. And he wasn’t the only one pumped up either! Kenny was bouncing on his toes with excitement! They had prayed for this day for so long- and it was finally happening! 

“We need to celebrate!” Stan would exclaim. “Uh- shit! What should we do? It has to be something special.” He’d begin pacing around the room again, only this time; he was joined by Kyle and Kenny. 

“We should go get food!” Kyle would suggest. 

“Yeah! Let’s get food!” Kenny would second. Sure, you couldn’t see the smile on his face because of his parka; but you could pretty much hear it! 

“Okay! Food!” Stan would agree. Perfect! This was going great! “It’s settled then! We’re getting food!” He’d announce, the real question settling in as the words left his mouth. “…Uh. Where are we going to get food?” Oh. Yeah. They hadn’t really thought about that. Huh. The three boys would exchange looks, waiting for one of the other two to offer up an idea. 

“Bennigan’s!” Kyle would confidently propose, an accomplished smile on his face. “We never go to Bennigan’s! Let’s do something new and go to Bennigan’s!” 

Stan’s jaw would drop, nodding his head. “Dude! You’re a GENIUS! Hell yeah, let’s go to Bennigan’s!” With that settled Stan would rush over to the door, Kyle following closely behind. The two were so eager, they wouldn’t even notice how Kenny wasn’t following after them. 

“I can post it on TikTok- so he knows how much fun we’re having without him!” Kyle would smirk. He had always dreamed of this moment. He could only imagine how red his stupid, smug face would get after seeing how not-in-shambles they were without him there. 

“Dude. Perfect! This is gonna be sick!” Stan couldn't help but smile as he opened the front door. He’d turn, now noticing how Kenny was still in the same place that he was ten seconds prior. Maybe he hadn’t heard them the first time? “C’mon, Kenny! We’re going to Bennigan’s!” He’d call, beginning to make his way out the door.

“You guys go without me- have fun!”

Well- that wasn't what they expected. Stan would walk back into the house, Kyle following. He’d close and lock the door, a frown forming on his face as he walked toward Kenny. “But...you have to come! It won't be a celebration without you!” He’d insist. 

“Yeah! ...Do you not like Bennigan’s?” Kyle would ask, trying to offer up solutions. “We can go someplace else if you don't wanna go to Bennigan’s!” 

“No…Bennigan’s isn’t the problem.” Kenny loved the sound of going to Bennigan’s. Sitting and eating with his friends sounded like so much fun. But…he didn’t think he could afford that right now. It sucked that he had to turn the offer down, but it was much better than the alternative-

“Kenny…you know we could pay for-“

“No.” Kenny would deny Kyle’s offer before he even got the full thing out. It wouldn’t be the first time this exact scenario had played out; and every single time Kenny agreed to let them pay for him, he’d get home and have to deal with the guilt of it all. He didn’t wanna deal with that today! 

“Dude, it’s really not a big deal. Kyle and I can split-“

“I don’t want you to pay for me.” Throwing himself down onto Stan’s couch, he’d cross his arms. He wasn’t going to budge on his one. “Just go. Have fun!” Grabbing the drawstrings on his parka, he’d pull it shut, signaling that he was done talking. Conversation over. 

“But, Kenny…Kenny, we really want you to-!” Kyle would start to say, only to get cut off by a hand being placed on his shoulder. He’d turn to Stan to give him another look; just to be met with a completely different look staring right back at him. 

They’d stare at each other for a few minutes, not a word leaving their lips before Kyle finally broke the silence. “…Gotcha’.”

“Kenny…” Stan would start, glancing at Kyle every now and then to make sure he was getting into position. “We really want you to come.” He’d say, sitting down on Kenny’s left. He’d wait for Kyle to sit down on his right before continuing. 

“Surely, there must be some way we could-“ Snaking his hand around, he’d loop his hands under both of Kenny’s arms, turning him counterclockwise. “Twist your arm on this?” With that line dropped, he’d give Kyle a wink. His silent way of saying “He’s all yours.” 

Kenny would let out a surprised yelp at being grabbed, taking a second to truly comprehend the predicament he was in. He’d try to open his mouth to bargain, or beg, or something that could save him- but Kyle wasted no time. All he managed to get out was a startled, “Wait- please don’t!” before Kyle began digging his finger into his sides. A squeal would be ripped from his throat as he immediately began to thrash from side to side.

“Guhuhuys! Stohohop ihihit!!” He’d giggle, a bit embarrassed by how easily it was to make him laugh. He’d thrash around in Stan’s hold, kicking his legs in an attempt to break free.

“Don’t kick me, Kenny! I’ll make it, like, ten times worse!” Kyle would teasingly threaten, squeezing both of his sides one at a time. Like a little pattern! “You know, I’ll stop tickling you if you come to Bennigan’s with us!” 

“Mm-mhmhmhmhm!!! I dohohon’t wahahanna!!” Kenny would frantically shake his head, throwing himself to and fro as he laughed. He’d clench his hands into fists, yanking himself forward. But it seemed whenever Kenny thought he got the tiniest bit of leverage- Stan would just tighten his grip. 

“Kenny, c’mon! Kyle’s being so nice to you right now!” Stan would remark, speaking from experience. Actually, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit jealous. Why couldn’t he go that easy on him? “Don’t you want to quit while you’re ahead? He’s being super merciful.”

“Stan. Don’t backseat drive, dude. If you think you could do better, we could just switch-“ Kyle would scoff, although it was easy to tell he wasn't as offended as his words made him sound. “If you don't trust my tickling abilities, that’s fine-” He’d grumble, sneaking his fingers under Kenny’s parka. He’d walk his fingers up and down his sides, making Kenny squeak from the sudden switch-up.

“No! No no- I get what you're doing- building suspense! I'm down for it, 100%. I'm just... bargaining with him! Tactics. You know?” Stan would quickly change his tune, nodding in agreement.

“Chrihihist!! Thihis ihis sohoho duhuhumb!!” Kenny would whine through his giggles, throwing his head back in annoyance. “I sahaid I dohon’t wahahanna gohoho! Stohohop ihit alreheheady!”

“But you do wanna go Kenny, that’s the problem!” Kyle would insist. “We know you wanna come- make things easier for yourself! We don’t mind paying, just swallow your pride and have lunch with us!”

“Nohohoho!!!” Kenny would squeal as Kyle started poking at his ribs. He’d jerk even harder, still being trapped between the couch and his two friends. “I dohohon’t wahahanna gohoho anywhehere wihihith yohohou dihihickheheads!”

“Dickheads?!”

“Dickheads?”

Kyle would gasp in feigned horror and offense, halting the tickling momentarily; whereas Stan would just blink in confusion. “Where did you get dickheads from? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call us dickheads before-“

“Dickheads! He called us dickheads, Stan!” Kyle would shout, a stunned expression on his face. “We can’t let him get away with that, right? He called us dickheads!” Kyle would repeat yet again, just in case the word went totally unnoticed. “Say sorry, Kenny! Say you didn’t mean to call us dickheads!”

Kenny would visibly weigh out his options as his sat there, Stan’s arms still holding his tight while Kyle’s hands laid flat on his ribs. Sure, the logical choice would be to just concede and chalk it up to a slip of the tongue. But…Kenny just wasn’t in the mood for that. “…No!” He’d confidently exclaim after a couple of beats. “You guys are dickheads and I don’t wanna go to Bennigan’s!”

“No? Fine! Suit yourself, dude. Stan, can you focus up there?” Kyle would ask, removing his fingers from Kenny’s parka. He’d crack both his knuckles, watching as Stan grabbed both of Kenny’s wrists with his left hand before beginning to hold them above his head. “You wanna be an asshole? Fine then, be an asshole!”

Kenny would giggle in anticipation, pulling at his arms, hoping for some miracle surge of strength that would let him pull his arms down. But it seemed like his luck really wasn’t there today, since no miracle surge would ever appear. He’d squeeze his eyes shut, bracing himself as he got ready for the countdown. They would have to do a countdown, right?

Wrong. Kenny was very wrong. Stan and Kyle would have some prolonged eye contact for a little bit, communicating when to start. About five seconds after Kenny closed his eyes was what they settled on. Kyle would give Stan a moment to go first, nodding his head as Stan abruptly began scribbling his fingers into Kenny’s armpits.

“WAHAhahait! Stahahan!” Kenny would jump from the sudden attack, a peel of laughter pouring out. “Hehehey, nohoho fahahair! It’s two agahahaisnt ohoneEE-“ Kenny would start to complain, not really expecting Kyle to actually go for the kill. Sure, he said he would…maybe he should’ve known better than to doubt him. But doubt him he did, so he was nowhere near prepared when Kyle dove into his hips.

“SHIHIHIHIT!” Kenny would jolt, letting out a noise that could only be described as the scream of a man who was being brutally murdered. And, for this situation? Pretty valid. “NAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE!” He’d cackle, practically screaming with laughter at this point. Very fitting. He’d flail his legs, trying his hardest to get one good kick in- just for a little bit of leeway. Even if it meant he had to roll off the couch, he’d take anything at this point.

“Aw, damn it…” Stan would let out a very fake sigh of disappointment, tsking as he shook his head. “I’m sorry to do this to ya’, Kenny…but I can’t understand you. Like. At all.” He’d say, pouting his lips. Just for the dramatics of it all! “I’m normally fluent in Kenny! I don’t know what happened…” He’d sigh yet again, going agonizingly slow with his portion of the tickling. “…Kyle? Do you know what he said? It’s really bumming me out…”

“Oh, Yeah! Don’t worry dude, I got you!” Kyle would nod with a bright smile, immediately going along with Stan’s little bit. “He said “Please keep tickling me Stan and Kyle! I love being tickled allll over! It’s just soooo much fun! That’s the real reason why I’m being such a dick to you guys! I just loveee being tickled!” Thank you for being so honest with us, Kenny! You should’ve just asked sooner!”

“Ohhhh, I gotcha!” Stan would nod, speeding up his fingers. “Yeah, you should’ve just said so sooner, Kenny! We could keep doing this all day! Oh- actually- that just gave me an idea! Let’s do this instead! We don’t need Bennigan’s, let’s just tickle Kenny alll day long!” Jesus fucking Christ on a bike, Kenny felt like he was going to turn into a fucking tomato. With how red he was, there wouldn’t be that much of a difference. Kenny wanted to keep on a brave face, just let them have their fun until the eventually got tuckered out. But upon hearing Stan’s new “brilliant” idea, Kenny couldn’t help but worry that they actually would put that plan into motion. He couldn’t handle that. Actually, he couldn’t really handle this.

“OKAHAHAHAY!! OKAHAHAY OKAHAHAHAY! I’LL GOHOHOHO!!”

“And?”

“I’M SOHOHOHORRY FOHOHOR CAHAHALLING YOHOU GUHUYS DIHIHICKHEHEADS!! I’M SOHOHO SOHOHORRY!”

Kenny would wave his verbal white flag of surrender in the air, and it would only take milliseconds for both Stan and Kyle to stop tickling, remove their hands, and let him go. He could’ve sworn he saw the two fist-bump as they did, but he was so out of breath, maybe he hallucinated it? He probably didn’t, but he wouldn’t point it out. Just in case.

“Great! Don’t bring your wallet, ‘whole thing is on us!” Stan would casually say, making his way to the door yet again. Kenny wasn’t able to fight the look of utter confusion on his face. The two acted like nothing had just happened, like they didn’t almost kill him a few seconds ago. How the hell-?

“We’re really happy you’re coming, Kenny..” Kyle would say, staying behind for a bit as Stan walked out the door. “You can catch your breath- but don’t take too long! Stan and I are gonna wait for you outside, and we’re not going without you!” And just like that, they were gone. Like nothing had happened. Kenny would be left on the couch; feeling breathless, confused, and kind of…grateful?

They really wanted him to go that bad? He thought he was just being a burden, but they went through all that trouble convincing him- just so he would come? That meant something, didn’t it? Maybe they had a weird way of showing it; but that meant they cared, didn’t it? It had to, right? Words couldn’t really describe how he felt at the moment. In fact, only two words would be able to leave him mouth; let alone come to mind at all.

“‘Fucking dickheads…”

#FIRST FIC YAYYYYY #this took so long to write #i hated it SO MUCH at first and i just refused to write for it #but it’s grown on me!!! taking a step back really helped🥹 #im so sorry it took so long!!! #LEE KENNY AGENDA #but honestly this was really fun🥹 #AAAA i hope you guys like it!!! #south park tickles #lee!kenny #ler!kyle #ler!stan #strawberry writes

[june-julie]

Scream queen.

Stu macher x fem!reader

Minors DNI or you will be blocked !

Summary: Stu leaves you alone for a moment and once he returns,he never wanted to wrip your clothes off more than he did right that moment.

Note: okay before I start I just wanted to say, please don’t steal my work, it took me a long time. And also this was originally meant to be for my DR script so i guess you could say I have experience 🤭‼️ im sorry for the horribly explained summary I suck at them.

after agreeing to flee from the events of the woodsboro massacre and settling into an cabin Your parents had bought some time ago to go on break for on summer thanks to a certain blonde boy who you always just cant seem to never say no to. 2 weeks later an idea crosses your mind, that you just couldn’t seem to brush and just had to try out with Stu. At first though, it started off as an innocent thought, and never in a million years had Stu thought you would do something like this, he viewed you as a dove, fragile innocent and he couldn’t possibly let anything happen to he’s little angel.

But oh by god how he would found the scene before him so fucking sexy.

But this thought you had was so reoccurring that one day you gave in that urge you had, and today you felt just about confident enough to do it without cracking a single giggle, because tonight was not going to be a laughing matter. Tonight you were going to show him how much you were grateful for being he’s final girl.

so you crept out of your room silently, hoping Stu wasn’t inside of his room as you snook in to take his murderous stigma. It wasn’t tricky figuring out where he had placed his infamous ghostface ‘costume’ and neither was It hard to spot the shining blade on the window sill. you take his knife (never intending to use it of course) to match your planned attire, then you make sure to take his mask rather than Billy’s, a token for himself afterwards . You find the rest of the infamous ghostface ‘costume’ and do a little altering to it until you were satisfied, and with that you snuck off into your room to set your idea into motion.

a few minutes passed when all of a sudden Stu was looking for you, normally around this time you two would cuddle up together to a nice slasher playing on the television. But this time as much as you wanted too you still didn’t reply when he called out your name, instead making him having to purposely look for you. “..y/n?” He called out from downstairs and you could practically hear the pout in his voice. Biting back a grin you pulled the mask down and unto your face then stood up and went behind the door.

At first, he had thought you playing a trick back on him as he does this kind of stuff to you all the time, and At the thought of that a Mischievous grin tugged at his lips. ‘Awwo, how cute’ he thought, the idea of you thinking you could make him scream made him almost giggle.

But, that is until he looks behind the door and you’re standing there with the ghostface mask, and immediately he’s interest is piqued and you could tell by the way he quirked up his eyebrow.

“Y/n-“

before he says anything you shush him with the dull side of the blade. At first he’s a little unsure what you’re getting at but goes along, trusting you enough that you don’t go gutting him spleen to sternum. But you could tell by that grin on his face and by a certain something else too .. he was excited.

You put the voice modulator up to your mouth and spoke “sit down on the bed, sweetheart.” t came out more of a purr. He did just as you said and sat himself down on the rather comfortable bed and laid he’s hands behind him and from here he looked you up and down observing you almost like prey and fuck, how he enjoyed this.

you walked over to him, and with your free hand, you pushed him down gently with a shove, so he was now laying. And again with Voice modulator up you spoke “oh Stu Stu Stu,” you started, “what am I to do with you, hm? Pretty boy.” And with the dull side of the knife you ran it down his chest teasingly slow until it came to the waistband of his pants. “I don’t know what id like more, to see your insides or for you to feel mine.”

“Honey, if you keep talking Im gonna cum before you even begin” he groaned, looking to you with hooded eyes full of lust as you straddled his lap, you smirked and pulled him for a heated kiss, tugging gently on his soft dirty blonde roots which caused him to groan, you grinded into his lap whether you were aware of it or not. You were already wet but feeling he’s clothed erection your folds practically made you dripping.

Then suddenly you stood up Stu whined from loss of contact “do you promise to be a good boy?” You mock pouted as you batted your lashes At the boy in front of you who was already panting and whining at your feet, he nodded his Head to you. You held his chin and tilted your masked face to him as you tutted “use your words.” And there was something about that modulator that made your already sexy voice just that extra bit arousing. “Ill be good” he replied “atta boy” you released his chin “please y/n” he begs and whimpers, you chuckle. “You’re so fucking needy for my pussy.” You tease all of the blood that was rushed to his face went straight down to his cock.

You undid his pants and slid them to his ankles with ease. teasingly slow you took off his boxer, his erection springing loss and the tip was already leaking with pre-cum and your mouth Just couldn’t help itself and was already watering from the sight. You took off the mask which was made to be in a permanent scream, no need for that you thought, I’ll being my own screaming soon. You looked up at him doe through your eyelashes as you licked the tip, watching as he cursed under his breath “you’re so fucking pretty sweetheart” then you took him all in your mouth, ignoring the arousal that was pooling in your clothed core just for now. His hands went to your hair in a makeshift ponytail and he would occasionally tug at it, making you moan on his cock sending a vibration that he definitely did not miss.

Stu’s strained whimpers filled the dimly lit rooms walls “im gonna, fuck, im gonna cum” suddenly at this pulled away Stu whined “y/nnn!” “Beg for it “ you said “please! “ he whimpered “please what?” You replied edging him “Let me cum on your pretty tits” he whined “your so hot when you beg” you edged, “come on then pretty boy” you fondled his balls and it didnt take much for him be sent over the edge, and he came. Feeling the warm cum on your breast and seep in-between your black delicately laced bra gave you an content sigh at your job ahead of you,

Once he came down from he’s high he snapped into he’s senses, grabbing you by the hand he lead you unto the bed “let me clean pretty princess up” he said, now towering over you. With his hands at either side of your head on the bed he dipped and began licking up his cum on your breast as you released a moan “Stu- fuck,” you could feel him grin as he’s hand wandered down to your arousal, he hooked his fingers around thin fabric as his tongue slid down from your breast to your stomach until he went lower.

He wasn’t gonna let you play psycho killer so easily without punishment.

#Stu macher x reader #Stu macher smut #scream 1996 #fem!reader #18+ #Stu macher x fem reader smut #Billy loomis #scream #ghostface x reader #ghostface #smut #minors DNI

[dearestones]

A Waste of Time (Yandere! Alex Kralie x Reader)

Warnings: Yandere character, yandere behavior, erratic behavior, delusional behavior, etc. 

Anonymous Request: hi!! im so excited that requests are open! i really love your work and was wondering if i could request Yandere! Alex Kralie (mh), with reader?

(also im not sure if we are allowed to ask for scenarios but im adding this just incase, if not you can just cut this out of the request; can you fo a scenario where reader is running from alex, ends up hiding somewhere as they’re running [ie: behind a tree, abandoned building, bushes, ect.] and ends up passing out once their adrenaline begins to run out. possibly with Alex finding them like that? i think he’d be pretty scary once he finds reader! sorry for rambling, again i just really like your works 😞😞 have an amazing night/day)

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Not many people know this, but in Alabama there were a plethora of abandoned buildings in and out around the forests. Most of the time, these buildings were nothing of note. Usually, they no longer served any purpose, were condemned due to health concerns, or they had outlived their use. For some of the more well known locations, police would scout out the areas in case there were any squatters. Normally, this would have been upsetting, but tonight, you wanted someone to find you.

Someone other than Alex.

For months now, you were on the run with Alex Kralie. He had been a neighbor of yours who used to live with his long time partner, Amy. However, some time ago, you realized that she no longer frequented the property. You, being curious, asked and he had replied that he had an amicable breakup with her. At the time, he looked disturbed and angry, but you assumed that it was because he was still smarting from the effects of the breakup.

Now, after listening to his muttered ramblings and the effects of the creature that lived in your peripheral vision, you knew better.

Alex was haunted by the Operator.

Alex was no longer stable.

And you need to get away.

The thing with Alex, however, was that not only was he focused and dead set on targeting former members of his old film project, but he was also paranoid and detail oriented. This meant that you had to be cautious when planning to leave. There were times when he almost caught you trying to hide essentials in your duffel bag or even trying to broach the subject of you leaving because last you checked, while the Operator did attack you a few times, he or it wasn’t particularly interested in you. 

It wanted Alex. 

So, when you realized that Alex was more frazzled than usual, you did not hesitate. You picked up your duffel bag, ducked out the motel’s exit, and began hightailing it towards the forest. The plan was that you would run as fast as you could into the woods, a place that you had become unwillingly far too acquainted with, and take shelter in an abandoned shack. You and Alex had laid low there a few times, but you knew for a fact that whenever Alex had become far too engrossed in his work or consumed by his paranoia, he tended to spend hours by himself.

If you were lucky, you would wake before dawn before heading off towards another town so that you can buy yourself a burner phone and then get back to a life with normalcy. 

Exhausted now, you crept into the desolate shack. As always, the small dwelling was not fit for human habitation, but you had no choice. There was a menagerie of garbage, scraps of clothing, and even a collection of crushed cans in the corner. The smell of rot was heavy and pungent in the air, which was exacerbated by the humid air that filled your lungs. 

You pressed an old shirt onto your shirt, which you had sprayed with perfume just for this occasion. 

Even if you wanted to retch from the horrid smell, you were glad that there wasn’t another person staying here with you. 

If there was one thing that you didn’t want to encounter more than a delusional Alex, it was an unknown human being with intentions you were also not familiar with. 

Tired now from all the running and the adrenaline rush that accompanied it, you curled up into a corner that you supposed was somewhat cleaner than the rest of the dank space. Here, you placed your head atop your bag and hoped to whatever god was out there that you would sleep the night through and wake in the morning without any trouble.

With exhaustion weighing down your eyelids and your muscles, you settled into a fitful slumber. 

Another thing that you should know about living with a person who was as paranoid and as erratic as Alex was that you had to learn to wake and be alert at the slightest disturbance. There were times when you would burst awake in the dead of night only to find that Alex had slammed his laptop closed a little too hard. Once, when you were still new to this, you opened your eyes only to find that the strangely dressed figure of the Operator was standing above you. 

You feared Alex, but you absolutely dreaded that hateful creature.

When you awoke, it wasn’t because of a slight disturbance in the night like a harsh wind passing through the broken window. Rather, you felt the strong grip of someone’s hand closing tight around your windpipe and you heard the rough, deep breaths of someone exerting so much effort above you. 

Gasping aloud, you looked up only to find that in the darkness above you, which was only illuminated by the barest glimmer of moonlight. Was it the Operator? Had the creature of darkness that had haunted Alex for so long had decided that you were a worthy meal after so long? 

Struggling with the will to survive now, your hands scratched at the wrist of the hand that held you down while your legs kicked and bucked up at the being above you.

“Finally awake, huh?”

You seized in fear when you realized that it was Alex. 

And he was angry. 

In a last ditch effort to save yourself from this deranged madman, you reared your head back and sprung forward. The instant your skull made contact with him, he yelped and his hands slacked. Taking that opportunity, you pushed him off you, your strength still paling in comparison to his, but at the very least you were able to escape. 

Ignoring your duffle bag, you hurried out of the makeshift shelter and urged your legs to move longer, move faster. 

Behind you, Alex was only regaining his breath.

It was now or never. 

With the evidence of Alex’s violent rage fresh in your mind and smarting on your skin, you hurried forward. 

.

.

.

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone yandere behavior outside of fictional settings. Please don’t mistake the actions of fictional characters displayed in works of fiction to be considered harmless in real life.

If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

MARBLE HORNETS MASTERLIST

#marble hornets #mh #marble hornets alex #mh alex #alex kralie #mh alex kralie #marble hornets alex kralie #marble hornets x reader #gender neutral reader #mh x reader #alex kralie x reader #dearestones #devintrinidad #yandere #character

[starry-nights12]

happy birthday!! idk how to start this exactly but here goes lmao 💀 your writing is amazing and I love it sm and I was looking back over your posts and you mentioned gift fabrics and I was like omg I wanna do that but I had like. nothing planned ahshdhjdjdh lmfao 😭💀 BUT who cares im gonna come up with smthn anyways and you cant stop me. bc your writing is great and I get so excited every time you post something and so yeah. im doing a thing RN and uh. you cant stop me. take that. 👍💪

anyways lmao this is kinda inspired by that one fic of yours where will has a nightmare bc I think its such a good opportunity for a hurt\comfort fic :P hope you had a great birthday btw ! lights camera action or something idk 💀 oh yeah also this is in the jinx firelight au (that's a pretty vital piece of information that fun fact I didn't think to disclose until after i started writing :D 💀😭)

The cool night breeze danced across Ekko's face as he gripped the railing of the banister, trying in vain to calm his strained, shaky breathing. He had woken up in a cold sweat, sitting bolt upright in his bed, limbs thrashing about as he gasped and tried to suppress a scream. He had stayed sitting there in the darkness, his whole body shaking, as he tried to no avail to regain his composure. It wasn't until a minute or so later that he noticed the hot tears rolling down his face. At that point he realized sitting there and waiting for the pit in his stomach and the ache in his heart to go away wouldn't help anything, so he (by some miracle) had managed to stumble out of his room and out into the night air, shaking. He had been trying hard not to think about his nightmare, but he couldn't quite seem to get his mind under control. He couldn't stop thinking, couldn't stop shaking. It was as if his whole body had turned against him.

The dream had been about her. The parts he could remember, anyways. Because of course they were. Because of course he couldn't just be happy with her, right? Because he always had to wonder, "What if, what if, what if..." didn't he? First it was "What if I had just gone with them?" or "What if I had tried harder?" or "What if I didn't do enough? What if I could have saved her?" Now that she was here, she was safe, she was his friend again, he thought it would've gotten better. But it hadn't. "What if she hates me? What if things will turn out the same? What if she gets hurt? What if I lose her again?" He supposed he was probably being unreasonable by thinking he would be automatically fine again (or he would have, if he had been thinking clearly). She hadn't been here for that long, only a couple weeks, almost a month. They needed time. They were a lot better and much more comfortable with each other, sure, but it was difficult sometimes. Nothing good ever came easy. But being with her again was worth it.

He had managed to calm the whirlwind of fear and panic that had laid claim to his mind, slowly guiding his senses to his surroundings, drinking in the peaceful night that encompassed him. He should've felt better. It was so relaxing, the silver moonlight dripping from the clouds, the sweet, honey-tinted breeze that stroked his hair, the rustle of the leaves playing overhead. But he still felt empty. Lonely. A couple days ago, he had mentioned to her that he had been having nightmares after she inquired about his tired state. She had told him that if it happened again, he would be welcome to stop by her room for someone to talk to, as she usually stayed up pretty late herself. He had thanked her, but he had also lightly told her off for it, insisting that she needed to get enough sleep. But right now, he really, really hoped she hadn't listened to him.

His breath started to shake a little again as he walked over to her room, trying to ignore the tears welling up in his eyes. He didn't know why he was getting all worked up again.

What if she wasn't awake?

He was just dropping by to see if she was awake. He would be fine on his own, really. He was okay.

What if she was just being polite? What if she won't want to be there to comfort him?

He was okay. It was just a bad dream. He had managed on his own before. It was fine. He was fine.

He had reached her door. He stood in front of it, trying to calm down. Trying to stop fucking shaking so much. He finally raised a fist to the door and knocked on it gently.

"Jinx?" He tried to keep his voice from trembling. Silence. It was only for a few seconds, but it felt like forever.

"Ekko? Is that you?"

"Y-yeah." Relief flooded through his body.

The door creaked open and Jinx appeared, looking puzzled.

"What are you doing up so late? Is it the-" Her face fell, confusing him for a moment until he realized he had started crying again.

"S-sorry, I'm sorry I just-" he felt her cool hands on his face, tenderly wiping away his tears before pulling him into a much welcomed embrace. She pressed up against him, rubbing his back with one hand as her other massaged the back of his head gently. More tears fell from his eyes as he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her gently, still shaking. Her skin always seemed to be cold, yet her touch always brought him comfort.

"It's gonna be okay, Little Man. I'm here." Her voice was gentle and quiet, soothing. "Do you want to stay here for a while?"

"Uh-huh." His voice wavered and he nodded, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. She squeezed him close, then gently led him in, not letting go. She wiped off his fresh tears with a sad, gentle, understanding smile as she guided him onto her bed, the mattress creaking a little as they curled up together. Ekko's hugged her tightly, comforted in her presence as she rubbed her hands in small circles on his back, his shoulders, his head; as she hummed a quiet song and lovingly nuzzled into him. It all felt so...right. Like everything was okay again. She was here. She was here. She was here. He was so glad she was here.

"Thank you."

"Always."

yaaaaay you made it to the end! :DDD ik that you will probably not be reading this on your birthday bc I think we're in similar time zones (?) but yea lmao 💀💪

fun facts time I started writing this on your birthday and have not stopped since. it is not your birthday anymore. it is 12:30 at night and I am going feral,,

anyways I hope you enjoyed also I hope you had a lovely birthday! this is actually my first ever proper fanfic and I don't think I've ever published any of my writing online before, but I've come this far already that at this point the wrath of the gods would not be powerful enough to stop me (from posting this and also just in general)

thanks for all your wonderful writing and for inspiring me to make this btw!

I may be sleep deprived,

Sincerely,,

OH MY GOD!!!

YOUR DESCRIPTIONS!!!!!>>>>>>>>

EKKO PRETENDING THAT HE'S KAY WHEN HE ISN'T!!!!

JINX COMFORTING EKKO!!!!

#timebomb #ekkojinx #ekko arcane #ekko #jinx arcane #jinx #arcane #birthday gift #birthday wishes #gift fic #fic rec #ask #homebrew-chaos #firelight jinx au #THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! #IT'S SO SWEET AND CUTE!!!!

[holified]

1. When are you usually online?  My working schedule has been so awfully overwhelming that the only free time I have is on the weekends, but sometimes I’m so exhausted I cannot even write anything, although I’m often lurking here on Saturday and Sundays nights.

2. What verses are you involved in outside of this page? I have a blog for Sakura Haruno, so every once in a while you can catch me there, but it usually depends on whether my friends there are online or not. As for my verses here, I most use my “alive” verse, and I have recently been able to use my Yu Yu Hakusho verse thanks to some amazing new friends! I also have a special verse in which Kikyo and Kagome are sisters with my beloved Rarity, and a Sesskik verse that I absolutely love.

3. What is your biggest RP pet peeve? I’m a pretty laid back person, so it’s hard to anger me (or so I believe). But I suppose I could say my biggest pet peeves are when people try to pressure me into writing/doing something or when people start drama over small things. I have seen so many people arguing over stuff that’s just... so stupid! Dunno, I’m just too tired to deal with people right now.

4. Are you drawn to specific types of muses? Hmmm, maybe I am? I think it has changed over time, but I LOVE an angsty/misunderstood character. Powerful, complex women that are often mistreated by their writers bring out my fire to write. I need to like and find the character interesting to write it. Oh! And I don’t write male characters, dunno, I just don’t feel comfortable, I’ve had blogs for male characters before but they were always short-lived.

5. Are there recurring themes in your writing that people might not notice? I don’t know, maybe? I LOVE shipping threads, like, omg I’m a hopeless romantic and all the romantic love I don’t have in real life I seek in my writing. But I also love an adventure and I LOVE angst so... I’m not sure which theme could be considered “common” in my writing.

6. What are your favorite RP trends? Hmmm... I think the return of big icons, some time ago it was SUPER cool to have tini tiny icons that were overly saturated and were just a blur of colors that was impossible to decipher. I never understood this trend tbh, to me icons provide a visual reference to your character’s expression, the scene or to focus on a particular aspect of your character’s face/body language, so those impossible-to-understand icons were absurd! Anyway, but enough complaining about old trends! I think the new aesthetic trends are pretty great!

7. What is your process for starting a new story with someone? Good question, I usually just IM them or we start writing and go with the flow. I like this organic kind of writing, where ideas pop up and you move along with them. Planning is great, and having a general idea of where the thread will go is amazing, but discovering HOW it will get there is so... rewarding! 

8. How do you feel about duplicates? I’m incredibly insecure, so I avoid duplicates not to compare myself and end up abandoning the blog for thinking I’m not good enough :|

9. How long have you been involved in roleplaying? Oh my, here is where you discover I’m a dinosaur on Tumblr. I’ve been writing on tumblr for around 10 years, and I’ve never written outside of this website, I think I wouldn’t be able to roleplay outside of tumblr at this point.

10. Is there a muse or verse you wish you could write in, but haven’t? Oh, quite a few! But alas, I have no time to write the muses and verses I do have, imagine writing new ones! But one day I want to make a couple more blogs for one or two muses I’d like to give a try!

tagged: @thuganomxcs​   — thanks so much! ♥♥

tagging: literally anyone who sees this!

#┈ ┊ To learn through suffering; to thrive in chaos || ( musings ). #┈ ┊ Out of shrine || ( ooc ). #I love these! Thanks so much! #I feel like a famous person being interviewed hahahah

[cloveroctobers]

CALLING U BACK — Maddy x OC (Valli)

WARNINGS: Unhealthy aspects of a relationship! Language!

A/N: the long awaited final moments of Maddy and Valli. Hope you enjoy this, you might be able to tell towards the end I was unsure how to end it which is why it took so long for me to get this out lol. Thank you for supporting the complex? Relationship that is of Maddy and Valli. If you want you can let me know your predications afterwards on their future together…or apart. Much love to you guys and see you when I see you 💕

✢ ✢ ✢ ✢ ✢ ✢ ✢ ✢ ✢ ✢ ✢ ✢ ✢ ✢ ✢ ✢ ✢ ✢ ✢ ✢ ✢

Valli had to take matters into her own hands.

When it came to Nate Jacobs, she had to pull teeth to get Maddy to tell her what exactly happened. Not literally this time, not yet anyways. She knew something was wrong when Maddy never replied to let her know that she made it home from babysitting. They didn’t have plans exactly…yet it was unheard of for Maddy to not at least FaceTime or call valli on her way back home.

That was a major red flag.

The wind was aggressive with valli leaning against the car, eyes scanning the split-level home which was dim with maybe two lights shining through the windows…The last one happened to be from Maddy’s bedroom.

Valli walked up to the house, taking note that neither of Maddy’s parents’ vehicles were in the driveway and she couldn’t hear the usual blurring of the television through the front door. Her gut was telling her that something was wrong and with each knock on the door and failed attempts to call the dark haired girl, valli had to make her presence known.

She tossed pebbles at the window and even honked her horn but she did not see a shadow move in Maddy’s room at all. Which honestly started to worry Valli a little bit, she knew Maddy was pissed off hearing the news rue announced…that her best friend, her other soulmate was fucking her ex behind her back.

Valli was the first to put two and two together awhile ago and she knew Maddy had to sense something with the way Cassie switched up on her. However it seemed like unintentionally, Maddy wanted to give Cassie the benefit of the doubt with how weird she was acting. Maddy just assumed it probably had to do with McKay all this time. Which set Maddy off even further; when she wasn’t venting to Kat she was letting it all out to Valli who listened and was patient.

So when she saw Maddy so distraught in her bedroom, shifting from curling into herself to complete terror as she sat upright on her bed, Valli knew something happened. She was cautious with her steps as Maddy’s fingers gripped into her duvet, bags sinking deeper into her tear stricken face as her doll-like eyes watched Valli’s every move.

Valli sat with her back to Maddy, sitting on the opposite side of her bed as she inhaled. “Was is Samantha? Did she do something?” She questioned.

“W-what? No!”

Valli held her head back, “you don’t have to cover for her Maddy…I know you idolize her life but it’s me you’re talking to.”

“You don’t even know what the fuck you’re saying, Val.” Maddy was defensive as she roughly wiped at her face, “Sam is like cool as fuck and one of the most honest people I know unlike that cunt named Cassie. Samantha didn’t do anything to me and neither did her husband, which im sure is your next question.” She huffed before blinking, “How the hell did you even get into my house?”

Valli also shifted on the bed to face Maddy, who’s brows were furrowed.

“What happened?” Was all Valli wanted to know.

Maddy scoffed, “Nate fucking happened. He came in here with a gun and threatened to take his life right in front of me, just to get his dad’s sex tape back.”

“He did what?” Valli quirked up a brow.

Maddy visibly shuddered and curled into herself again. Valli closed her eyes as she deeply inhaled and went to kick off her boots before she laid on the opposite side of Maddy’s bed.

“Come here, mama.” Valli waved her hands for Maddy to rest in her embrace.

Hesitating at first, Maddy moved to rest against Valli’s chest, who used a free hand to cup the top of her head brushing the loose strands around her hairline back while the other held onto Maddy’s forearms.

“Even when we’re not together, he still found a way to hold something over my head by fucking attempting to kill himself in front of me. How sick in the head do you have to be? His father really fucked him up and I’m so done.” Maddy hiccuped as she clenched onto Valli.

Valli nodded, “he won’t hurt you anymore. I’ll make sure of it.” She vowed.

Maddy sighed as she listened to the calming but strong drum of Valli’s heartbeat. “Should I even ask how…you do know that I know what you’re into.”

“No.” Valli vaguely replied, “it’s best that you don’t, at least not right now. But I promise you I’ll get that Keke khora.” (trnsltn: Shit eater)

Which brought a smile to Maddy’s lips as she nuzzled her head against Valli’s chest, those words were the second most comforting thing to Maddy but being in her girl’s arms were the first despite her risk-taking lifestyle.

“Are you insane?!” Maddy yelled, unsure if her eyes were deceiving her as she stood in what looked like a abandoned factory.

Valli whirled around as the voices of those beside her whispered in multiple foreign languages at their new guest. She stepped back from the chained body of Nate Jacobs and immediately shook her head at Maddy.

“What’re you doing here, Maddy Mads?” Valli strolled over to the shorter girl, meeting her halfway.

Maddy moved her head to get a good look at her ex but Valli moved with her and challenged her with her eyes. “The fuck are you doing?”

“This doesn’t concern you.” Valli calmly answered, “…of course you followed me. You never listen and I try my best to keep you out of the loop of what I do. It’s a dangerous game and I don’t want you involved, baby. Just go hang out with Kat and I’ll see you at the play later.”

As valli went to turn away from her, Maddy yanked on her wrist turning Valli back to face her. Her nails were digging into Valli’s flesh, which caught the Persian girl by surprise shockingly.

“Hey, we’re all messed up in this town and I’m one of the most loyal you’ll ever find but…I’m not asking you to murder him, Val.” Maddy gritted.

Valli tilted her head to the side, her ponytail shifting as she did so, “you wanted Cassie dead but it’s evident Nate is part of the problem. I’m the clean up girl, Madeleine. I’m just doing my job by trying to give you the world…but I can’t exactly do that with him in the way.”

“Look…” Maddy swallowed, “normally I would appreciate that but I don’t want you in fucking jail. We can’t be together if you do this.”

Valli winked, “I haven’t been caught yet.” She rested her hands on Maddy’s shoulders before rubbing down her arms to grip her hands, “I never said I’d kill him…at least…out loud to you. We’re going over our options but I’m thinking BA. He’s already drugged up, tortured, and ready to go.”

Maddy scoffed out a laugh in incredulity , “what do you mean? What the hell does BA stand for?”

“Buried alive.” Valli simply answered as if it was obvious, “I’m fantastic at making people disappear, it’s perfect. I’ll even let you get a nice swing in before you go and you’ll deal with Cassie however you want to.”

Maddy huffed as she began screaming behind her closed lips for a moment, “I don’t need you to tell me what to do. And I don’t need you making decisions about what happens between Nate and I!”

“I apologize if it’s coming off that way but that’s not the end goal here.” Valli always kept her composure when speaking that it was actually the main thing that irritated Maddy about her, “Tell me what you’d like from Nate.”

“To admit that he screwed up this relationship because of his own fucked up issues. I was ride or die for him and these are the things I get? You sticking your dick in my best friend who you constantly slut shamed to your teammates behind her back? Having no respect for my friends or me!” Maddy screamed, “to actually give me a genuine apology but I know he’s so incapable of doing!”

Valli lit up her joint and kept it between her lipstick covered lips and waved her hands for Maddy to keep going.

“To admit that I was the best thing he ever could have had but no! he wanted to keep his shitty family in his ear about how I’ll tarnish their name when it’s been tarnished before I even stepped into the picture!” Maddy was clapping as she aired it all out.

Maddy walked around Valli and she didn’t intervene this time as she slowly followed after her. Maddy needed to see what was done for herself as Nate was slowly waking up from his rearranging face session.

Glancing back at Valli, the large eyed girl analyzed Maddy’s face as her mind began to wonder what she exactly did to him in her honor. Nate was drenched from head to toe on some Carrie shit—yet in his own blood, chains wrapped so tightly around his ribs that Maddy was sure it hurt to breathe. And as Nate struggled to lift his head, Maddy covered her mouth at the damage.

It was worse than what Fez did on New Year’s Eve.

Much worse.

Nate voiced his complaints behind the gag in his mouth as he managed to get a look at Maddy. A familiar face that he thought would get him out of this, even after the stunt he pulled on her in her bedroom a couple of days ago.

“Oh shut up.” Maddy felt anger boiling in her stomach again despite the gory horror scene she was witnessed in this very moment, “and fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you! Do you want me to help you Nate? Just like you helped yourself to fucking Cassie and thinking it wouldn’t get out? This is good for you, it’s exactly what you deserve and I just wish I thought of it first.”

She grabbed the arms of the chair so that she was eye-level to her ex, “and I hope it bothers you, wherever you end up that I’ll be much better off without you and you won’t even cross my mind. I’ll be with that girl behind me. And you’ll still be a sad, lonely, frustrated, and sexually confused waste of space for a boy.”

Nate jerked forward and this time Maddy didn’t flinch. It was her turn to laugh as she stood up straight to look at the faces of (mostly) burly men around her. She dipped her head at them and took one last look at Nate, sending a taunt of a wave his way while he still struggled to get out of the chair. Maddy made her way back over to Valli who pulled the joint from her lips, blowing the smoke away from the petite girl’s face as Maddy tugged on her hips to pull her towards her.

“I’m gonna leave now…I’ll see you later?”

“Of course.” Valli moved Maddy’s hair behind her shoulder.

Maddy lifted her chin slightly to connect her lips against Valli’s who easily welcomed the kiss. The two ladies were in sync, knowing which way the other was supposed to turn their head and they breathed each other in. Valli cupped Maddy’s cheek on her left, knowing that the other would be sporting a deep dimple next. She even went as far as tracing her tongue against Maddy’s bottom lip and dark haired girl didn’t hesitate to let her in.

It gave Valli the satisfaction to know Nate was stuck watching this, until her men lifted the chair with him still attached and began carrying him away while Maddy was preoccupied with Valli.

“Now get outta here, daddy’s gotta finish her shift.”

“Oh your daddy now?” Maddy grinned.

Valli nodded, “isn’t that what I’m under in your contacts?” She began walking by Maddy who frowned.

“Girl, no.” Maddy shook her head, “unless you changed—that’s exactly what you did didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She began walking backwards, one hand shoved into her nude sweatpants pocket and the other still cradling her joint.

Maddy scoffed out a laugh, “you’re something else you know? We still have to talk about everything later, huh?” She hinted as her phone began to buzz with Kat’s name.

“Sure, sure. Tell Kat not to worry, we didn’t run off together yet.”

Maddy shouldn’t be surprised that her girlfriend knew it was her best friend calling her, it always seemed like Valli knew more than Maddy knew herself. She wasn’t sure if that was terrifying or exactly what she needed.

Little did she know after the Persian girl blew her a kiss with her fingertips, that it would be their final goodbye.

10 years later…

The buzzing and slamming seemed to be louder this time around as Valli made her exit. After so many years locked away you learn to tune everything out, it became background noise to her but today was different. Today was freedom day and most didn’t get the chance to say that.

There she stood, eyes in slits as the spring air of the Netherlands welcomed her. It was warm but breezy as the sun still hid behind the clouds that threatened to throw snowflakes down above their heads. She looked away from the sky as a guard ordered from behind her:

“Go on and don’t come back.” In Dutch to her, but she simply sent a middle finger their way in response. He happened to be one of the guards that gave her tough love in here so she didn’t mind as much.

Alone she walked down the rest of the curved pathway towards the parking lot. She wasn’t looking for anyone as she kept a grip on her bag of items that she hasn’t worn since she was a teenager.

“Hey!” A familiar voice called out. 

Valli’s head whipped to her right to see the face of her old friend, Kes, with one hand in the air to get her attention. A smile appeared on Valli’s face as the brown boy ran up to her to lock her into a bear hug. Valli equally squeezed the boy back before they both pulled back to grin at each other.

Kes gripped Valli’s face, “my beautiful friend. So fucking good to see you!”

“It’s not like you ever left me.” Valli replied in Dutch, resting her forehead against his before she playfully shoved him back by his chest.

“You don’t leave people you have love for.” Kes locked his arms with Valli’s as they continued down the steps together.

Valli hummed before she stopped in her tracks to see a black SUV parked right in front. Any time a black truck pulled up was suspect and Valli was ready for whatever it entailed. Once the door slowly opened, Valli tightened her arm against Kes’ but kept her attention locked on the vehicle.

Out stepped a petite frame dressed in all black and slicked back short dark hair. The woman lifted her shades right after she slammed the door shut and Valli was really frozen in her spot now.

“I think you broke her.” Kes told.

She stepped forward, hips swaying as she stopped to stand in front of the pair, “there’s no way I still have that effect on thee Valerie Ansari.”

Maddy fucking Perez. It’s been ten years since they were last face to face and Valli can only imagine what was going through Maddy’s head when she found out the news about everything and Valli’s deportation.

“What’re you doing here, Maddy Mads?”

Maddy breathed out a smile, “not you still calling me that after all these years…what do you think I’m doing? We made a promise.”

“The whole marriage thing? Are you proposing to me here, fresh out of jail? I don’t know, doesn’t seem like your style.”

Maddy fanned her acrylics at Valli, “please, if this was a proposal you’d know it. I’m here for you, dummy. I know some people too now, pulled some strings that you couldn’t so you didn’t have to spend your whole life in there.”

Valli glanced at Kes who shrugged her shoulders with a smile.

“You never told me your old girlfriend in the Americas had money.” Kes bumped Valli’s shoulder as she tried to wrap her head around that statement.

Maddy laughed, “And you never told me your old friend with benefits kept tabs on me.”

Valli looked back and forth between the two and let out a small laugh, “for the very first time I’m confused here.”

“Long story short, Maddy got you out. She’ll have to explain all of that to you later but we need to get going, there’s a small snow storm heading our way in the evening and Liv and I are throwing you a surprise welcome home party.” Kes announced.

Maddy scowled, “that’s not really a surprise then is it?” She rolled her eyes, “it’s been hell contacting him mostly instead of you.”

She nudged her head for Valli to follow her as Kes hopped in the passenger side.

“Right the whole limited access rule here since I’m apparently one of the worst criminals on the planet.” Valli joked as Maddy held the door open for her.

Up Valli climbed in with Maddy sliding in beside her, soon the car was in motion and Maddy couldn’t help but to watch Valli as she looked out the window.

“How did you figure out—

Valli started, knowing that Maddy’s attention was burning into her frame. She was cut off by the sound of Maddy’s phone who excused herself with a finger in the air before she quickly answered the call, “hey…yeah just picked them up. We’ll be in contact sure, her and I have things to discuss first. Okay. Talk soon, bye.”

“Who’s that?” Valli rested her elbow on the car door as she peered over at Maddy with heavy eyes.

She still looked the same, just mature in the face which slimmed out with gorgeous chopped hair.

Maddy pursed her lips before she answered, “that…was sammy. Samantha.” She corrected.

The two girls held each other’s stare before Valerie threw her head back in laughter. “So what you’re hinting at is, the housewife you had a crush on from your past helped you get me out? I didn’t ask for any favors.”

“Just like I didn’t ask for you to BA Nate.” Maddy hissed.

Valerie pinched at her lips, “Wow.”

“Yeah wow, we have a lot to talk about! Ten years worth so you should be happy, thankful even.” Maddy told Valli who snorted out a laugh.

She was silent for a moment before she said, “A phone call would have been better, that way I wouldn’t have to look at you and figure out that you’re repeating the same cycle that you experienced then. Except this time you were groomed.”

“Fuck are you talking about?” Maddy glared, “you don’t know anything about what I had going on after you up and left.”

“Because I wanted to be deported, yeah! I’m sure I have a pretty good idea what went on. no one else could fill that void once you learned about my deportation and you went back to Sammy who showed you another life to live! She turned into your sugar mommy and now you’re sitting here in my face trying to slide by with vague answers. You don’t have to lie to me Maddy, damn! I thought we were better than that.” Valli voiced.

That’s when Maddy turned her body fully to face Valli, “It feels like you’re judging me right now and I don’t fucking like it. Yeah I chose a path after your…departure…that led me to great things and I’m not shameless about it. It got me back to you didn’t it?”

“That’s not the point. I knew from the moment you started babysitting—I just knew it. I’m not mad at you, I’m mad—no disgusted with her. Your precious Sammy.” Valli announced, dragging her eyes away from Maddy’s stare.

Maddy sighed as the car filled with silence. There was so much more that needed to be said and she didn’t want to have this conversation in the backseat of a car. They were just brushing the surface just like when they were eighteen but it always felt like their feet weren’t touching the ground.

“Is that really what you would have wanted?” Maddy found herself asking, crossing her arms, “a phone call to let you know that you’re a free woman now because of some other woman you don’t trust? Would you have given me the decency to call me back when you didn’t pick up the phone?”

Valli lifted her shoulders, “not too many people wait around for someone like me. Let’s say by the time I was ready to return your call, I’m sure your number would be out of service and all I’d be left with is the dream of a altar in Greece.”

Pure hurt shined over Maddy’s face as she chewed down on her bottom lip. She looked away from Valli for a moment while shaking her head.

“I can’t believe that you believe that lie.” Maddy scoffed out a laugh of disbelief, “after all these years that’s what your brain comes up with? I don’t know if you know this but i want you extensively. Ever since you and fucking BB made fun of the cheer team on the sidelines in gym class, high out of your minds and you challenged me and beat both Cassie and I on the dance floor right after. I was pissed off, yet you somehow made it better by telling the coach off, before I could! when she tried to fucking belittle me for losing the routine all because I didn’t have on a bra. As if I need one!”

“As if that even matters.” Valli rolled her eyes before carrying on, “We all know you two can’t dance for shit.”

“Damn bitch, why you gotta be so loud about it?” Maddy rolled her neck, although there was amusement in her tone.

She cleared her throat, “let me finish. You’re it for me, not anybody else. Not Nate,” She gags, “and not even Sam. She knows that. So if you think a simple missed phone call would keep me from you for forever then maybe you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.”

Valli hummed, pressing her temple into her balled up fist as she now sat sideways. “I guess you’re not allowing me to properly break up with you then.”

“You’re not going anywhere. We get to start over now…we can make it to that altar if you want to try…that is.” Maddy shuffled to sit in the middle of the vehicle now, there was too much distance between the two.

Valli blinked as she carefully reached out to grip Maddy’s neck, feeling the warmth of her Pearl skin as she leaned into her touch.

Guess Valli still that magic touch too.

Let’s be real here. Ten years was a good amount of time of being apart, the two always had different lives and life is constantly changing. It was evident that Samantha was fully part of Maddy’s life now and Valli was positive she wasn’t okay with that. Samantha gave Maddy a life Valli couldn’t due to her own families decision and that left a bitter taste in her mouth. Maddy was open to still try and Valli was a free woman again, she could do anything she wanted.

She could have anyone she wanted.

Coming to terms with Maddy awaiting for her response, Valli simply glanced down at Maddy’s glossed ones before meeting her eyes with a smile. Which was all the answer Maddy needed before she collided their bodies together, the two flying back against the car door where Valli failed to protect her head against the car door.

“Ow.”

“Shit, sorry.” Maddy laughed as she lay on top of Valli, before looking up at her to press their lips together in a long awaited chaste kiss.

Kes glanced at the two in amusement snapping a few pictures of his own, knowing that the two girl’s would want this moment as a keepsake through the rest of their lives together.

#Spotify #euphoria #euphoria hbo #euphoria season 2 #Maddy perez #maddy perez x woc! reader #Maddy perez x oc #maddy perez x reader #Alexa demie

[lavenderwhore444]

Ok so we all love pervert shigaraki ( Ik u do so please don’t lie to ur self love 😀) anyways what if shigaraki had a huge crush on the reader and steals there panties ( when there out in a mission working there ass off) but the reader notices and placed cameras in her room just to see who’s stealing them surprise surprise it’s ya boy shiggy and the reader finds it kind of cute that he’s that desperate but is also upsetting because there working and he’s here getting off on her stuff so.the reader catch’s him in the act and shows him the videos ( shigaraki at this point is crying from embarrassment and he’s begging for the reader to delete the videos) as a punishment the reader pegs the shit out of him and the ending is fluff since I do love shiggy

First of all English isn’t my first language so apologizes for any mistakes and for the ending please work ur magic sis 

💍🧎🏻‍♀️marry me this is so good

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If you want to use interactive fics, it's easy and makes reading fics SO much better. First, you download the Google Chrome extension. You'll see it in the top right corner of your screen. Next, you enter your name in the first box. If you want to change something other than y/n, please click on the text that says “want to change something other than y/n?” here, you can change any word you want to a different word. When I talk about your quirk I will use y/q

Warnings: smut (obvi) shigaraki is a perv degradation a little I think #peg shiggy 2021 fingering for Shig 😌 humiliation??? Idk what to put man request says it all

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🌸 I have an irl on here rn because we both simp for crusty men, and she’s probably lowkey scared of me. I was drunk on having social interaction for the first time forever and was like, “omg, I write for them. I have Tumblr 🤪” Listen, I told you I would do anything for him, and I fucking meant it, ok? And he’s a little pervert, so they're kinda gross (indirectly making me have gross kinks too ig ☹️) Plus, I warned you about his piss kink, that should've been a good indicator to the rest of these 🙄 , Anyways anon has sent me THE BEST SCENARIOS OMG. I have read a lot of Shigaraki fics, BUT THESE ARE SO ORIGINAL IM SO HAPPY. There's one, in particular, I'm excited to write because it's just so cute, omg. 🌸

It was the fifth time this week. You were out on another mission, and Tomura was half-naked in your room on the verge of passing out from how many times he had cum into various articles of your clothing. It started off as just your panties. Perverted but not insane. As time went on, it only got worse. The panties weren’t good enough. He started putting one of your shirts over his face as he got off, and that worked...for a while. His next fix was to steal some of your perfume, but it wasn't good enough.

He felt disgusting the first time he got off in your room. He felt like he'd crossed a line (not that he hadn’t already), but it was the best orgasm of his life. What's done is done, so he might as well take advantage of the rest of your room. He was pretty comfortable now, face pressed into your pillow, inhaling your scent as his body spasmed for the last time. He was utterly spent.

And now, for the worst part, being in your room surrounded by your stuff, smelling your perfume, but still being all alone. It wasn't like Shigaraki had a crush on you or anything. Him having a crush on y/n? Unheard of. The rest of the girls in the league were like family to him. You two just weren't there yet, even though it had been five months, and he blushes whenever you talk to him. So what if he wants to punch Dabi whenever he looks at you? He wasn't in love with you. God damn it, he was just horny. That was it. That was the extent of his feelings, and they would go away.

They didn't go away, but more of your stuff sure did. It was becoming more common for clothing in your room to go missing only to end up clean and folded in the proper drawer. It was weird, but someone was doing most of your laundry for you. It wasn't Dabi taking your stuff. He could get his dick wet whenever he wanted. The other guys preached “don’t lewd y/n” and tried to fight Dabi when he put his hand on your thigh. Toga would steal your shirts but definitely not your underwear. If she did steal your clothing, she’d post a mirror pic and tag you in it.

So that left your boss. Tomura Shigaraki. You thought he hated you. He got all quiet and distant when you talked to him. Was he nervous? He glared at you and Dabi. Or was it just Dabi? Maybe the little creep did like you. He was kinda cute. His messy hair looked so soft, his eyes lit up when he won his games, Shigaraki had this little smile when he was watching the league sit together, and he had discarded father almost completely. But he was a creep, and you definitely didn't have a crush on him. Definitely not.

But part of you didn't want to tell him to stop. It took a while to cook up a plan, but it was foolproof when you came up with one. You found stole the money to invest in some hidden cameras. By now, you were starting to accept that you might like him just a little. But in a sad puppy kind of way. You didn't actually have a crush on him. Nope, not at all.

And it was kind of mean that he was making you do all this work while he got to jerk off in your bed. You'd come back with cuts, scrapes, bruises, and even a broken bone one time, just for him to totally ignore you. He had spent all day ruining your clothes and wouldn't even look at you.

Your behavior had changed towards Tomura, though, and he had definitely noticed. You were acting the same way he was. You were always blushing when you talked to him. You sat next to him while he played games, but it's "just because you're bored." Maybe you were starting to like him back. He had come to terms with his not-so-little crush on you. This didn't stop him from acting like a perv but still.

The cameras had been up for a while, and honestly, watching those videos back was way better than watching porn. Shigaraki looked so sweet and desperate. The way he laid in your bed afterward, holding your pillow, made your heartache for him. He just looked so lonely. You decided it was time to confront him.

"I'm going out for a couple days, guys!" you called, walking out with a backpack on your shoulder.

"I'll miss you, dollface," Dabi called back, blowing a kiss as you laughed at him.

The glare Shigaraki gave him could have dusted him right then and there. You stayed at a cheap motel for a while, watching the cameras. It was pretty nice to finally have some quiet. It didn't take long for Shigaraki to wander into your room with a raging hard-on. You took your time getting home, knowing he'd be there for at least a few hours. You glanced at your phone once in a while, catching two of Shigaraki’s orgasms. You’d hear a strangled cry and see his mouth wide open, eyes squeezed shut, and back arching. He’d coat his chest and your underwear in hot cum. You started to walk faster. Most of the league was asleep as you used your levitation quirk to float silently up the stairs. You opened the door.

“Who knew you were such a perv, Shiggy. All this time, I thought you hated me, but it looks like someone has a little crush on me, ” you said sweetly.

He looked like a deer in headlights, eyes wide as his body froze. A soft whimper left him as his face turned an angry shade of red that matched the head of his cock.

“N-no please, I'm sorry y/n I-i just didn't um ill leave. I'm so sorry, ” he muttered.

He got up, but you pushed him back on the bed.

“Not yet, Shiggy. I have something to show you, ” you said in a singsong voice.

You sat next to him, slinging your left arm around his shoulders. You pulled up the live feed.

“Aww, look at how cute we look right now, Shig, ” you teased.

His face told you that he was terrified.

“Y-you didn’t, ” he tried to fool himself.

“Oh, I did, ” you whispered in his ear.

You heard him sniffle. You slid the bar at the bottom of the screen back to show him what he was doing mere minutes ago.

“No, you can't, ” he choked as tears fell from his eyes, “please don’t show anyone y/n. Please I c-cant. I'm sorry, just don’t show anyone, ” he sobbed, “please don't. I’ll never talk to you again if you want I’ll do anything just don't show anyone, ” he cried.

“Anything?” you questioned.

“Anything, ” he nodded, still crying.

“Well, first of all, ” you said, “you can start by taking me out on a date, ”

He nearly choked as his eyes widened.

“What?” he whispered, wiping his eyes and nose.

“I said that you’re going to take me out on a date, and please use a tissue, ” you said.

He nodded and cleaned up his face the rest of the way.

“And second, you can take off your shirt and bend over the bed with your legs spread, ” you whispered in his ear, pressing a kiss just below it.

He looked confused for a second until his eyes widened, and he did as he was told.

“Now, don't play dumb with me. I know you’ll like this. I've seen you try and finger yourself before, but you did a shit job, and I promise this will be even better, ” you smiled, ruffling Tomura's hair.

He was getting more comfortable with you now, giving a nervous smile and humming when you touched his hair.

You walked back with everything you needed, only to sigh disappointedly, “oh Shiggy, that's not nearly wide enough. I know you can do better than that. Spread your legs more,”

He nodded, eager to please, and nearly did the splits. You giggled and smacked his butt. He jumped, causing you to laugh again.

“You’re so precious. It's a real shame I'm about to turn you into a slutty mess, ” you cooed.

He felt two slimy fingers press against his hole, and he shuddered. He tried to relax and let you press into him. It didn't take very long to get him moaning, bucking against your fingers. Two became three, and three became four before you decided he was ready. You were looking forward to eating him out, but this was supposed to be a punishment. You lined him up, rubbing the head against his hole that was still clenching around nothing. You pushed the entire thing inside of him as he screamed.

You scoffed, “do you know how many people you just woke up? Do you want the whole league to know you're getting pegged as punishment for being a disgusting, perverted slut? You want them to know that I'm fucking your ass? Huh? Do you? Cause I'll bend you over the fucking bar and show them who you submit to, ”

You started thrusting at a brutal pace. Tomura pushed his face into the pillow only for you to levitate him so he couldn't do anything to stop all the sounds coming out of his mouth. You were looking forward to all the looks you'd get as you smirked, and he struggled to sit next to you. You managed to go even harder.

“You’re not sitting or walking this week, Shiggy, ” you cooed.

“No, ” he choked out, “n-no call me Tomura p-please, ” he moaned.

“Tomura, ” you whispered in his ear, “pretty name for a pretty boy, ”

You reached around and twisted his nipple, causing him to cry out. Tomura only got louder as you reached around and grabbed his balls another hand-squeezed his tip between two fingers and pinched gently before jerking him instead. He was losing it now, tongue hanging out, and eyes rolled back. Little screams were ripped from him, and he jerked around.

“Y/n ‘m gonna, ‘m gonna cum, ” Tomura slurred.

“You gonna cum for me, Tomu? Go on, do it, ” you encouraged.

He cried out, his body going rigid as he shot cum out of his cock. He was gasping and panting as you let him flop down on the bed and pulled out.

“C-can you help me back to my room, ” he whispered, looking sad.

“No, ” you said as he frowned, eyes watering again, “because you're staying with me tonight. Get in bed, ”

He blushed and crawled into the corner. You yanked him closer, taking over as the big spoon.

“Goodnight, Tomura, ” you said. Kissing his back and shoulders, you rubbed his stomach and chest, “you're so pretty, baby. I forgive you. It’s obvious you’ve never had a crush on a girl before, and I think you learned your lesson, ” you said, rubbing his sore ass.

He nodded, “I'm sorry, I just didn't know what to do, ” he mumbled.

“I know, sweetie, ” you whispered, “I know. Was what we did ok? Did you like it?”

He nodded, “I liked it, ” he whispered.

“Do you need anything, ” you asked.

He shook his head, “just tired, ”

“Alright, baby, just get some sleep, love, ” you said.

He nodded as you both found an absurd amount of comfort in being so close to each other. You slept like a baby. You woke up to him gazing at you lovingly, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

He kissed your forehead, “I hope you know you're never getting rid of me, ” he smiled.

He kissed you, “y’know I'm kind of disappointed you didn't kiss me last night, ” he pouted.

“Mmm, I was too busy fucking you, sorry sweetie, ” you said, kissing him again.

“You enjoyed your ‘punishment’ a little too much, but having to go downstairs should be punishment enough, ” you grinned.

He groaned, “please don't make me. Let me stay in my room forever y/n, ”

“No, can do Tomu, you need breakfast, ” you said.

You walked downstairs, sitting at the bar and eating your breakfast. No one else was up yet, or so you thought until you heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

“You're not dead?” Dabi asked, completely dumbfounded.

“No dumbfuck, I'm not dead. Why the hell would I be dead?” he snapped.

“I dunno maybe cause you were screaming from y/n’s room all nigh- oh no. Oh god I think I'm gonna be sick, ” he fake gagged.

All you did was laugh at him.

“You two are disgusting, y’know that?” he said.

“We know, ” you smiled eating the rest of your breakfast.

#tomura fluff #tomura smut #tenko smut #tomura x reader #mha tomura #tomura imagine #shigaraki tenko #tomura shiragaki #tomurashigaraki #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki smut #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #mha shiggy #shiggy #shigaraki is a perv #sorry it's true #peg shigaraki 2021 #Pegshigaraki2021

[wheelsup]

the taming of the shrew | two

if i be waspish, best beware my sting

after some setbacks, penelope is willing to do anything to get you back on board. but has spencer already ruined things?

A/N: hello! im so sorry that this posting schedule is super inconsistent. the more i thought about this chapter, the less i liked the more technical aspects of it. but! i hope you enjoy to plot aspect of it nonetheless <3 thanks for reading!

category: fluff, slow burn series, spencer reid x fem!reader

wc: 4.4k

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Since that phone call with Penelope, she’d been over nearly every night for a week with plates of treats and onslaughts of apologies. Each time she came knocking, you told her there was no amount of persuasion that could change your mind. And yet the following night, she’d be there, a new type of pastry in hand and a new set of reasons why Spencer was worth the trouble.

First, she brought blueberry muffins and reasoned that deep below that prickly exterior, he really was everything she promised –– sweet and caring. But that must be deep, deep down. Like, The Lost City of Atlantis, deep down, because you didn’t expect it to surface any time soon. 

Then, she brought fudge brownies and explained that his behavior wasn’t personal –– he was getting snippy with everyone lately. And while you maintained that anybody would have a hard time getting along with Spencer, you were absolutely positive that it was now impossible for you. 

Quite frankly, it wasn’t just Spencer who was unwilling to play nice. You hated him. More than you’ve ever hated a stranger. 

You wished him a lifetime riddled with minor inconveniences that would drive him to the edge of insanity. You wanted him to miss all his trains by just a quarter of a minute; close enough so that he could see it leave the platform, knowing he almost made it on. You wanted him to constantly feel like he was about to sneeze. You wanted his socks to be perpetually wet, and if he should happen to put on a dry pair? You hoped he stepped in a puddle.

That was all you could think about as you laid out on your couch, munching on one of Penelope’s lemon bars while she paced around your apartment. She kept going on and on advertising Spencer to you. As annoying as it was, she was also saving you a ton on groceries that week. 

For the most part, you filtered her out. Not a single word that came out of her mouth was believable anymore, especially not when she was talking about Spencer. Despite what Penelope thought of him, you saw in him what she refused to accept. 

As her speech came to a close, she looked at you like she expected a response to dignify her prattling. 

“Give it a rest, Penelope. He’s a lost cause,” you laughed dryly. “He doesn’t need –– nor does he want –– anyone in his life.” At the very least, he definitely didn’t want you. 

“Yes, that’s the problem!” If you’d been listening to her, you would’ve heard her saying the same thing. “He doesn’t want to date!” 

Your head just about exploded when she said that. 

There had been countless, fruitless conversations about this, and all along she saw the gaping hole in her supposedly airtight plan?

“If he doesn’t want to DATE, then WHAT was the point of this?!” Your fingers pressed the bridge of your nose; you suddenly felt a headache coming on. Funny how it always happened around the time of day that Penelope came to visit.

Penelope stopped pacing. She stalked over to your couch, picked your legs up by your ankle, and moved them to make space for herself. You begrudgingly sat upright as she took her place beside you. 

“Because he’s not himself anymore. He’s not open like he used to be. Not to the people who care about him the most, and certainly not to the world.”  

Penelope toyed with the hem of her dress, distracting herself from her quivering lip before pressing on, “Spencer Reid has always wanted love. And it’s not right that he no longer believes he can have it.” 

You hadn’t seen Penelope look so desperate until now. It was concerning. Because what could make her look so hopeless? What could make Spencer so hopeless? 

“Penelope, I don’t know what’s wrong with your little friend, but… there’s a lot more bubbling inside him than you’re letting on.” 

She chewed up the insides of her cheeks, wincing to herself at your incredibly accurate claim. 

“You are hiding something, aren’t you?” You narrowed your eyes on her. You were no detective, or whatever exactly her team did, but she was just awful at concealing her thoughts.

“It’s not my story to tell,” she murmured. 

She could already feel herself about to give it away and doubled down her mental defenses against it. Focusing extra hard on keeping Spencer’s privacy intact. If only you knew her track record with secrets, you’d be proud of her for staying quiet this long.

“What isn’t your story?” 

“That his girlfriend died last year.” 

She spilled it before she even realized what she was saying. You’d just asked so nonchalantly that she forgot she was talking aloud. Penelope turned purple, terrified now that the whole truth was out there. 

You couldn’t even take satisfaction in the fact that your trick worked. You were just as mortified as Penelope, and if you weren’t already sitting down, you knew you’d need to. You assumed there was something deeper going on with him, you didn’t think it was a dead girlfriend. That was some Nicholas Sparks shit. 

“He pretends like he’s fine but I know he’s not. And if he found a way to move on, maybe he’d start feeling as okay as he claims to be,” she sniffled before snot could run from her nose, tears lining the rims of her eyes. “I know I should’ve given you the full picture, but I didn’t think you’d go for it if you knew…” 

You were too floored to process it all right away. This added a whole new layer of complicated to an already uneasy arrangement.

“Well, I know you’re right about one thing. I would’ve said no.” 

She gave you a set of pleading eyes, praying you’d see where she was coming from. 

“I know,” she whispered defeatedly. “But maybe... now that you know, you can understand why he acts out the way he does.”

“Penelope, I can’t just… make someone move on, or –– or get them to believe in love! Especially when it’s fake.”

How on Earth did she expect you to pull that off? Did that guy from A Walk to Remember move on when Mandy Moore died? You hadn’t seen the ending of the movie, but you assumed not. 

“I’m sorry, this is just… a lot bigger than the favor I thought it was ––”

“What if I could return it?” she cut in. The gears in her head started to turn, figuring ways to patch up the holes she made. 

“There’s nothing I need from you.” 

That couldn’t be true. Penelope looked around the room and it didn’t take her long to think of it.

“I can help you sell your art,” she tempted, gesturing to the scattered canvases. “You make all your income from this, right?” 

You didn’t want to give any fuel to her fire, but you nodded. “What if… what if you didn’t have to settle for local buyers? What if I told you that you could make way more money selling them to the whole world?”

You chortled at her idea. 

You were a local artist, through and through. Your art got put in local galleries and sold to local buyers. Nothing more, and that was fine with you. You realized it a long time ago that it was just a pipe dream to think you’d be more. 

“I’m serious! You could get a separate painting studio, and stop living in one? Huh?” She wrapped her hand around your shoulder, waving the other in the air, urging you to picture it with her. “Imagine this: a kitchen that’s separate from your living room. A bed, inside it’s own four walls, and more than twelve feet from where you cook your meals.”

Pushing aside her so blatantly insulting your apartment, if that were a possibility, you’d want nothing more. But it already sounded foolish and you hadn’t even heard how she planned to pull it off. 

“Penelope, I’m fine where I am. I make the money I need, and that’s... it’s fine.”

She gave you a pointed look. “You know, I can hack all search engine results to make sure you are what comes up first anytime someone enters the word ‘painting’, right?

An airy chuckle left your lips. Of course she could. You patted her thigh twice and stood up, prompting her to follow you to your door –– hopefully, so she can show herself to the other side of it. “Still no, Pen.” 

“Just take some time to think about it!” Her voice carried through the wood as you shut it on her.

*

There was this one bench in Kenilworth Park – the one that overlooks the crystal clear pond – that you’d always been able to rely on to fix any problem.

There was hidden magic in the bushes that sprawled out from the edges of the water, surrounded by spiky green blades of overgrown grass. A simplicity you loved in baby ducklings paddling into the tiny body of water, swimming close together so they don’t get lost in, what seems to them, a whole ocean. And clarity provided by the freshest air in the world, under the shade of the big oak trees on a late summer afternoon.

But at the present, none of that came close to being enough.

The artist’s block started off as a minor inconvenience, but without your permission, had stretched into weeks of steadily declining motivation. Each new idea felt even worse than the last, and you were acutely aware that there would come a point where you’d officially hit maximum capacity for how awful they could get.

Still, that didn’t seem to light a fire under you. You happily coexisted with the blank pages of your sketchbook. Staring down at them, laying open on your lap in their stark-white glory, you felt like you were playing a waiting game. If you stared long and hard enough, maybe they’d flinch. 

Unfortunately, you never got to find out who won, because your phone rang inside your pocket. As if the caller had interrupted an incredible genius at work (which couldn’t be farther from the truth), you hastily raised the phone to your ear, slamming your sketchbook shut.

“Hello?” Your voice wasn’t as kind as it could be for someone with nothing better to be doing. Two seconds later, you learned who was calling and came to regret it.

“Hi, This is Rebecca from District Arts, calling with a message from Andre ––”

“Oh, hi!” you tried to walk back your previous tone, straightening up in your seat and pitching your voice higher, “Yeah, I’ve been waiting to hear from him!” 

While Rebecca intimidated you, Andre happened to be your closest friend at the gallery. He worked closely with the artists to curate their collection and help them make sales. 

“Does he want to sort out what to set the opening bid prices at for my new pieces?” A handful of days ago, you sent him pictures of your new work and were waiting to hear his thoughts. You’d always been able to trust his opinion, and a vote of confidence from him might be just the thing to inspire you.

“Uhm…” There was a criminally long pause on the other side of the line, ended by Rebecca’s weary inhale. “Unfortunately, we’re calling to inform you that your pieces will not be included in the next rotation.”

For a minute, you weren’t sure what to make of what she said. You’d never heard those words before.

“What – what do you mean?” you laughed nervously. She probably misspoke. Perks of friendship aside, Andre always included you in sets. 

“Ugh, let me just get him…” her voice faded away as she put the phone down. 

That wasn’t exactly the reassuring statement you were looking for. In the time it took for the call to switch hands, your confusion finally melted in. And then quickly boiled into anger.

The District Arts gallery changed their entire collection every two months. The pieces shown accepted rolling bids throughout the full eight weeks, finally selling at the end of term to their highest offer. After that, the pieces got taken down, sent to happy new owners, and the entire gallery reset with entirely new works. 

So if you missed one rotation, that meant waiting two months to get back in.

“Andre, how am I just cut from the gallery!” you barked before he could get a word in. If he didn’t like your work, he could’ve just said so. 

“No one said that ––”

“Okay, let me rephrase.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, something you found yourself doing quite frequently lately, and took a deep breath in and out. It was seemingly just for show because it did absolutely nothing to calm you down. “Why wouldn’t you put me in the next set? I’m in all of them!”

“I know you are!” He sounded just as upset. “It’s just that… we give you the biggest space we have, because you always manage to fill it up. But this time… I’m not so sure you can.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed. “What makes you say that?” You asked that, but you knew.

“You’ve only finished three pieces… I’m worried how you’ll deliver seven more before we set up.”

“But… it’s four weeks away, I could do ––”

“And it took you four weeks to make what you have... I’m sorry. We couldn’t take that gamble.” 

He took your silence as an opportunity to turn off the work talk and speak, just friend to friend. 

“You know that I trust you and I’d hold that spot if I could. But, I also know what you’re going through right now, and… I don’t know, maybe letting yourself rest would be a good thing?” 

Your heart paused. By, “knowing what you’re going through”, you assumed he didn’t mean the little artist’s block.

“If you’re implying that I can’t do my job because of what happened with Cyrus –”

“I’m not, I’m not....” he backtracked as quickly as he could. “But take another look at the paintings you showed me and tell me if they feel like you.”

Even if he was right, you wanted to fight him. You wanted to cry. You wanted to beg that you didn’t need that big space; you were willing to downsize and just turn in the three that you had. Even if they got shoved into the corner where hardly anybody bothered to look. You just couldn’t afford to go two months without the income. 

But even with tears beading up, you realized that the gallery couldn’t afford it either. They needed to bring in money and you couldn’t do that for them this time. So they were right to go to someone who can.

“Right,” you sniffled, recollecting yourself so he can’t hear the shakiness in your voice. “I understand. It’s a big risk, like you said… It’s for the better.”

Andre tried to thank you for being understanding and spewed some sort of encouragement. The words flew over your head. You managed to toss in a few ‘mhmm’s and ‘sure’s at the right places to coast you along until the call finally ended. 

As soon as it went dead, you dropped your phone to the side and brought your hands to your face, rubbing them furiously over your cheeks. Your fingertips pressed hard into your eyelids, trying to forcibly reabsorb the tears threatening to spill. 

It almost worked, until you tried to breathe. 

A full sob escaped in that one gulp of air and you succumbed to it. But the loud crunching noise of some pedestrian walking over the falling leaves destroyed your sense of privacy, and you quickly wiped away all signs of your breakdown. The crunching stopped just short of your bench and on instinct you flicked your eyes up to see who the intruder was.

You did a double take. It was him. That fucking asshole.

He was standing there, looking dumber than you could even remember, with his hands in his coat pockets and a curious look on his face as he watched you cry. Tucking your sketchbook under your arm in haste, you made it a point to stand up with as much aggression as possible, rolling your eyes at him.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” you barked. “No need to yell at me this time.”

You bristled past him, barely refraining yourself from checking his shoulder as payback. You wanted to believe you were better than him, but it did sound incredibly tempting. He stood there for a moment before turning on his heel and following you.

“Wait,” he groaned.

You didn’t listen, neither stopping nor slowing down.

“I said wait,” he huffed as he caught up to you, popping up at your side and jogging along as you kept going.

“Yeah, because I need to listen to a guy who yells at strangers in bookstores.” 

Now that you’d brought up the elephant in the room, your feet started moving even faster, working double time to get you away from him.

Damn the fact that he had those long legs. He didn’t even break a sweat trying to keep up. He was inescapable.

“Well, if you waited like I asked, you would’ve gotten an apology for the ––”

“Gee, thanks!” you yelled, stopping for only a second to turn to him and give him a mocking bow of your head, hands clasped together like you were praising at his altar. “I was waiting with bated breath for that! Thank you, kind sir, for now my life can go on.”

“Look, I’m actually sorry,” he snapped. Then in realizing the irony, softened his voice, “I’m sorry for being rude. I was having a bad day… not that that’s an excuse.”

You stared at him blankly, just watching his mouth moving quickly and waiting until it finally stopped. 

“Did you need something?” 

“Did you… did you not hear what I just said?!” 

“No, sorry,” you smiled, voice sweet like sugar. “My ears filter bullshit. Wanna try again?”

He scoffed, looking away like he couldn’t believe you before stepping even closer. “What’s your problem?”

“Me!? The fuck –– what the fuck is your problem?” You turned and stormed off again, seething at his audacity. Spencer just couldn’t relent his annoying tendencies and followed yet again.

“My problem is that I’m trying to be nice, and you’re not letting me!”

You got a good, hard laugh out of that. “Okay, first of all, having to apologize for yelling at me and pushing me isn’t exactly the best starting point for the journey of becoming a nice person.”

“Like I said, I was having a bad day.” 

Under your breath, you muttered, “Well, I hope this one’s even worse.”

“Why are you such a ––” He stopped himself from finishing that thought. Even in his worst mood, he wouldn’t cross that line. 

But he didn’t need to finish it, you knew exactly where he wanted to take it. The soles of your shoes scraped against the loose gravel as you came to a grinding halt, ears ringing.

“A what?” You turned to face him, a sarcastic smile on your face growing wider as he started to shrink more and more. You got up close in his face, daring him to say what he really wanted to. So he could reinforce your belief in exactly the type of person he was. “A what?” 

Spencer pursed his lips and shook his head, refusing to say it no matter how much you challenged him. If he wasn’t going to have the balls to say it, you decided to take it upon yourself.

“Tell you what, you keep thinking about it and get back to me the next time you’re in a cunty mood.” 

The word he was thinking of was probably not as bad, but you had a habit of escalating things. Even if you took this one too far, you didn’t care. 

Before you tried to take off again, Spencer’s hand flew to your elbow. He tugged you back, forcing you to turn around and face him. He didn’t know his own strength; without any resistance, you came stumbling into his chest, at risk of falling over if it weren’t for his tight grip on your arm.

It took you a beat to push him away with both your hands on his chest, vocalizing your disgust for being so close to him. 

“Can you stop trying to disagree with me for a second? I’m trying to tell you that you’re right, I was being a… well, you know…” He avoided the word. Apparently ‘cunt’ was where he drew the line. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it.” 

Your nostrils were still flared and blood hot as ever, but he made you pause. He looked sincere, if not a little tinged with guilt as well. You were suspicious of it.

“You saw me crying and felt bad, didn’t you?”

He laughed darkly. “Well, I saw you, yes. Did I feel bad? No.” 

“Oh, my God,” you growled, berating yourself for getting close to believing he might be capable of decency. 

“I’m joking! I’m joking.” He squeezed your elbow twice in earnest. “I did feel bad, but that’s not why I wanted to say it.”

“Okay.” You weren’t ready to give him a real smile, so you flattened your lips into a thin line and nodded once slowly, and left it at that. 

You still weren’t a fan, but the apology did dampen some of the resentment. Maybe he wasn’t the worst person alive. You’d settle for saying top ten most annoying, instead.

Minutes later, you came to the startling realization that he was still on the path, just two paces behind you. You flinched when you saw him out of the corner of your eye, not expecting him to still be here. 

“Uhm. Where are you… why are you still following me?” 

“I’m not. My car’s that way,” he gestured to the parking lot at the end of the long walkway. “I forgot my loaf for the ducks.” He didn’t mean to offer that information up, it just slipped out. He could practically see your smug expression coming before it even got there.

“You’re not supposed to feed bread to the ducks. It’s bad for them.”

“I don’t.” He didn’t care to explain this to you, but he couldn’t have you thinking he was any less competent than he really was. “It’s a special bread made from water and seeds that were ground into flour. It’s duck-safe.” 

“They make duck-safe bread?” Now that was something you’d never heard before. 

“No… I make duck-safe bread,” he said softly under his breath. 

You didn’t know how else you were supposed to react to that besides laughing wildly. 

“You make it?” He nodded like you were the crazy one here. As if he wasn’t the one spending his spare time grinding up seeds and baking loaves of bread for ducks, donning a frilly pink apron and oven mitts as he did so. At least that’s how you imagined it. “Why not just feed them the seeds?”

“Because, loose seeds will sink in the water and can potentially clog waterbeds and cause foreign bacteria growth in the pond.” 

“So you… hand-make the seeds into a little loaf of bread so it doesn't do that?”

He confirmed. You pondered silently for a moment, then absolutely had to ask, “You ever eaten the duck bread before?”

Spencer was caught off guard by that question. His cheeks deepened to a rosy color.

“Yeah, well, it was the house so…” he laughed nervously and stared at his sneakers. “It’s actually not too bad.”

You weren’t entirely surprised by that. You remembered what his grocery basket looked like, and given those same options, you probably would’ve tried the duck bread too. Still, you cracked the smallest of grins at knowing he makes bread for ducks. The one, sole redeeming fact you’ve learned about Spencer. 

You reached your car first, and Spencer stopped in front of it with you. 

“I’m actually sorry, you know,” he whispered once more, hand resting at the top of your car door as you opened it. He wasn’t talking about the incident at the bookstore.

“Yeah…” For a while you were so busy being angry at Spencer that you forgot about your own problems. 

He noticed your nose was still red around the edges, eyes still a little bleary. “Are you okay, by the way?” His voice was too soft, too genuine.

You shook your head no.

“Is there anything I can do?” You shook your head again. And then you had an awful thought.

You knew he was just offering to help just to say it, because that’s how people react when you say you’re not okay even if they don’t care. But there actually was something he could do for you… Something that Penelope could do.

“Uh, no but…” you fixed your hair and tucked it behind your ear, seamlessly switching to a flirtier voice. “If you still feel bad about the other day, you’re welcome to make it up to me.”

Spencer cocked his head to the side, unsure of how he could do that. 

“Hang out with me sometime.”

“H-hang out?” You could tell that it flustered him, even if he tried to play it off. He swallowed thickly, nose twitching and brows scrunched together.

“Relax, I really do just mean hang out.” You were lying through your teeth. He didn’t need to know that. 

As if he didn’t want to think about it for a second longer and just get out of this conversation as quickly as possible, he agreed without thinking it through. He didn’t even ask why an almost complete stranger would want to hang out with him. 

You stuck your hand out, expecting him to hand over his cell so you could put your contact into it. He rocked on the balls of his feet, watching as you input your contact and sent yourself a text on his phone.

“Hi, this is…” you read out your message as you typed, pausing at just the right place. “What’s your name by the way?”

“Oh-uh, I’m Spencer.” 

A devilish grin took over your face, hidden from his view while you were looking down at the screen. He was going to be easy to fool.

-

-

agh! im still not in love with how this chapter is turning out, but it came to a point where i just had to stop fiddling with it and just post it. any feedback or comments about this story is very much appreciated 💕

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if you’d like to join, the link is at the top of my masterlist

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid series #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid slow burn #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid enemies to lovers #criminal minds fic #mgg

[iwadori]

Hey! I really liked that atsumu x reader fic where reader's Kita's sister. Could we get a similar fic but instead it's Kuroo dating kenma's equally as socially awkward sister/team manager?

Dating your Brothers teammate PT 2 (Kuroo)

Part One Part Two Part Three

Word count: 1.8K

Genre: angst, fluff

You were a first year in Nekoma high school

You kept to yourself, since you found it hard to make friends

You spent your time in your classes, the library or joining your old brother’s (kenma) practices, although when you did attend you didn’t socialize with all your brother teammates you either sat with a book on in your hand or (if you were lucky) played on Kenma’s nintendo swtich.  

When Kuroo first saw you, he thought you were the prettiest girl that he ever laid his eyes on. He was speechless, to say the least. Kenma introduced him and you first as when you started in your first year, since he knew that you two should at least be acquainted with each other as you were all going to be walking to school together.

You found Kuroo very annoying (and that was an understatement) his debonair smirk, his wild wild bedhead and all of his continuous chemistry puns were things you found attractive annoying about him.  

Sometimes when you attend practice, you could tell that Kuroo was trying extra hard in an attempt to ‘show off’ to you, but you took no notice since you knew what type of guy Kuroo was (well you thought). Kuroo was a heavy flirt (well everyone he laid eyes on) he also was a giant dick. To you, he was a your average stereotypical teenage boy.

One day, Kenma fell ill with a cold so it just left you alone to walk to school. However, when you left your house, you see the last person you want to see.  

“Kenma’s not coming today” you whisper softly, but loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah I know” he smiled

“So then why are you here?” you ask

“Well I’ll have you know Y/N, I’m here to see you.” he said as you start walking

On your route to school, you don’t say much just letting Kuroo talk about things or asking you questions to which you just nodded or shook your head in reply. As much as you’d like too, you didn’t know how to properly talk to someone like Kuroo, knowing the types of conversations he’s used to having with people, especially other girls.

Reaching the gates of Nekoma, before you could step inside Kuroo pulls you to side and puts his hands on your shoulders “Y/N” he says,

“Yes Kuroo?” you look up at him

“I just want to say I like you..” he says waiting for a response from you  

“I-I ...umm” You didn’t really know what to say, although you did find him annoying beyond relief there were some redeeming qualities about Kuroo that you could think of. But would two even work properly?

From your lack of response Kuroo continued, “I’m sure you don’t trust me right now, but Y/N don’t worry I’ll make sure I’ll prove to you that I’m a good guy for you.”

You couldn’t do anything but nod, since you didn’t really know what to say to that. Just then, the bell rings and you were still frozen in place, only snapping out of your trance when you hear Kuroo shout from afar “Don’t worry Y/N im going to do my best to woo you!”

Over the next month, Kuroo is doing his extra best to get you to fall in love with him doing things like: walking you to your lessons, carrying your books for you, bringing you lunch and spending everyday complimenting you to your face and to his friends.  

His actions made you swoon, you did feel more comfortable around him, although you haven't confessed your feelings yet, you were planning on to at the date that you reluctantly accepted to go on. You were going to have dinner first at this nice restaurant that you showed interest in ages ago and you were planning to watch a sequel to *insert favourite movie here* since he knew that you really liked the first one.

Before leaving out to the date you looked in the mirror giving yourself a once over. ‘Wow I look hot’ you thought smiling, you were kind of excited to see Kuroo and hear what he had to say about how you looked today. When you were leaving you were startled by Kenma who said

“Where are you going Y/N?” he asked with his eyes focused on his game

“Oh, to the library” you lied your cheeks heating up.

“Sure, you are...” he said

“Bye Kenma” you say putting your hand on the door knob

“Oh Y/N” he calls

“Mhm”  

“You look nice today” making you smile wide giving your brother a ‘Thank you’ before finally leaving.

On the way to the restaurant, you had a pep in your step, you felt the happiest you’ve ever been in a while. You stood outside the restaurant and took a few deep breaths to calm the sudden surge of nerves that washed over you. You counted to 10 and walked in the resturaunt freezing at what you saw, there was Kuroo looking as handsome as ever but next to him was a beautiful girl who was tall and had long hair, pretty eyes and a great body who also reminded you of someone you knew (but you just couldn’t put your finger on it.)

She exclaimed “Tetsu!” and pulling into a hug, her boobs pushing against his chest making you cringe. You didn’t know what to do, you couldn’t compete with this European-looking supermodel, especially she already looks really friendly with ‘Tetsu.’  

You storm out the restaurant a bit too aggressively, causing attention to yourself making Kuroo look at over to you, cursing himself for knowing how the situation looks to you. He chases after you, but sadly you were already gone.

When you got home, you rushed upstairs to your room with tears in your eyes. You knew this was stupid in the first place ‘Trusting a guy like Kuroo Testurou, how stupid can you be.’  

Kenma came into your room, never asking or caring to know what happened as he knew that once you were ready to tell him you would. You and Kenma have always been close, as you’re both as quiet as each other you never felt the need to be surrounded by a bunch of people since both of you were just what each of you needed.

You managed to forget the awfulness of your ‘date’ getting distracted by trying to win in a game of Murder Mystery on roblox and also having fun trolling 6 year olds with your brother. The night was basically ended and before you dozed off to sleep and Kenma went to his own bedroom he said “At least talk to him Y/N” leaving your room not waiting for a response.

As you slept, you thought about what Kenma said ‘what more is their to say to Kuroo?’ You did think about all the possibilites of what could’ve really happened with Kuroo and that girl. Maybe they’re just friends? You didn’t want to think about the possibility of you being wrong. You were never wrong. So you just slept with the assumption of Kuroo being who you thought he was in the first place. A womanizing dick.

As lonely it was, you didn’t tag along with Kenma to the gym and you made sure to wake up earlier so you didn’t have to walk to school with your brother and your boyfriend his best friend.  

Kuroo really wanted to talk to you again but you were heavy on the ignoring him. He even asked Kenma for help, but even though your brother was definitely always going to be on your side no matter what, he didn’t want to be in between his bestfriend and his little sister.

When you were walking home from school one day, you were stopped by the pretty girl that was with Kuroo on your ‘date.’ “Hi, my name is Alisa Haiba” she said smiling

‘Haiba’ you thought ‘Where do I know that surname?’ until you realised, “Oh your L-”

“Lev’s sister, that knucklehead is my brother” she laughed

“So what do you need me for?” you ask  

“Me and Kuroo are just friends, I know you probably won’t believe me but me and him are NOT dating or anything romantic, he’s as much as a little brother too me then Lev is” she said

“Oh ok, thanks” you didn’t have any more to say and with this newfound information, you did feel more inclined to give Kuroo a chance, and that is if he even wanted one after all the ignoring and avoiding you’ve been doing. Now you feel stupid.

You thought back to all your times with Kuroo, making you smile. You knew what you had to do, you couldn’t shy away from this anymore, you thought about the scenario of him completely rejecting you and to be honest you were content with that as if ‘you don’t ask you don’t get’ or whatever the saying is. Since it was Friday, you knew that Kuroo would be at Kenmas playing smash bros on their switches (and that’s when you would usually spend extra time at the library to avoid him.)

So, you rushed to your house, dramatically opening the door exasperated. “Kuroo!” you shout, not even looking to see if he was there, to your horror there was the whole team over tonight who were quite humored by your shout.  

You went red and then shyly whispered “May I speak to Kuroo please?” looking up at him “that’s if you wanted”

“Umm...sure” he said getting up to follow you into your room.

Kenma gave you a reassuring smile that read ‘Everything's going to be ok.’ You led Kuroo to your bedroom and sat on your bed fidgeting.  

“I’m sorry”

“I’m sorry”

You both say at the same time, making each other laugh he waits for you to speak, “Kuroo, I’m sorry for misreading the situation and ignoring you and making you out to be a complete dick, I know I’m probably a bit too late but I’d love to ask you on a proper date... one that I won’t run away on this time”

“Y/N, it’s fine. I’m sorry for not actually explaining the situation as I know what it looked like. And yes, I will definitely take you up on that date... that’s if you’ll have a ‘dick’ like me” he jokes

You playfully shove his arm, making you both laugh. You spend the rest of the night with Kuroo in your room catching up on all the things you’ve both missed out on in the time when you were ignoring him.

The date you went on was better than you imagined, Kuroo was definitely a great guy (making you feel even more stupid for assuming differently in the first place.) You developed an amazing relationship with Kuroo, which lead you to eventually become mrs Y/N Kuroo and having Kenma and Kuroo be able to officially call themselves ‘real brothers’

AN: I really actually enjoyed this one, so I hope you do too. <3

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu angst #haikyu x reader #haikyu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyu fluff #haikyu headcanons #kuroo x reader #kuroo headcanons #kuroo scenarios #kuroo angst #kuroo fluff #kenma x reader #kozume kenma #signedwithane😌

[babydarkstar]

cacoethes

part two: bring your sweet loving 

rating: E (18+ ONLY) || pairing: ezra x f!reader || word count: 10.5k

chapter summary: as the night winds down and tensions simmer, we learn more about you, pieces of your past, and your relationship with ezra.

 warnings: ezra’s gigantic mouth that won’t shut up (suggestive language) and two criminals not knowing how to act; caretaking, i guess? reader cleans ezra but it’s nothing erotic; SMUT; handjob and graphic depictions of a glorious dick; dirty talk; dubcon maybe bc painkillers but he’s enthusiastic abt it; praise kink; switches having a great time; ezra’s subby in this but i promise he’s a dom too just not tonight; mentions of death, killing, tattoos, scars; mention of past drug use, bad coping mechanisms; mm i hc that ezra is a tiny tattoo guy so there’s that; fluff bc im sweet; author is a southern peach, forgive her if it gets a little slow and twangy up in here

a/n: un-beta’d bc mistakes are sexy. i’ll go back later and fix whatever i find but for now. enjoy. i’m literally just making shit up about this universe as we go but it’s working out for the best so bear with me. lmk if u want me to add u to be tagged here. tagging: @pedros-mustache @jk7789    

crossposted to ao3 :) || playlist || one || two || three

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“Here, Cee,” you said, adjusting the threadbare blanket over your cot and splaying a hand over it while she eyed you from across the tent, still standing amongst the carnage of a violent field surgery, “I’ll sleep on the floor tonight.”

The poor girl was scared. Well—not scared, not anymore.

Vengeful, for certain, though it seemed to dwindle with every minute she watched you interact.

Definitely wary of the two of you.

Which was appropriate, given that Ezra had killed her father and left her alone on an uninhabitable moon, only to be scooped up by his partner and deceived into thinking she was safe, and then forced to perform impromptu surgery to hack off an arm. But she appeared more wary to accept help from you than wary of you.

And honestly, if Ezra hadn’t just lost a limb and you didn’t want to hover beside him after not seeing him for a month to make sure he didn’t slip the veil in his sleep or disappear beneath your fingertips—and if you weren’t trying to earn her trust, you’d have made her take the floor.

But things were different now, they might always be. She had saved his life. You owed her your cot to sleep on.

“Wait,” Ezra said, swallowing thickly as he blinked, seeming to just process the words you had spoken, “You think so little of me that I’d let you sleep on the dirt after the day you’ve had? Now, I agree that our guest should find comfort in a cot of her own, but I will not deny you the simple respite of sleep. That would prove me an unworthy companion.”

“Ezra,” you said, giving him a look of incredulity that seeped into your tone, “You can’t be serious.”

He eyed you and clenched his jaw, still stomaching the fact that he had one less limb to worry about, and a bunch more problems to deal with. It was a look that told you he was not arguing with you, you were going to sleep on the cot. He would not be coddled like a child just because he lost an arm.

Which was, in itself, ridiculous. You didn’t plan to coddle him—you weren’t the type, not really. But. He’d lost a fucking arm. But he was also still delirious from the anesthetic, so that didn’t help his desire to prove something to the universe.

“You’re taking the cot, I’m not having this conversation,” you said, wiping his sweaty brow with your sleeve, “Tap into the ruthless outlaw inside of you and take it without regret. You know I hardly sleep anyways, I’ll live without a bed for the night.”

“Then I must insist you share it with me, precious angel,” he sighed, and you could almost see the cogs in his head turning as his distant gaze darkened into something hungry, “I’ve longed to feel your body pressed against mine since I left with Number Two. The divinity of your skin.” He hummed, eyes fluttering shut, “More…more precious than the ore we risk our lives for. Sweeter than fruit. Fresher than a rainstorm.”

“Ez,” you warned, snapping a glare at him.

“Your body…so tender, warm,” he continued, entranced in his own fantasy, not even hearing you when you warned him yet again, “All soft and pliant beneath my touch. It has been far too long since we partook in a pleasure as indulgent as one another—before our partnership with Two, if I can recall. Grant me heaven tonight. I deserve the satisfaction of watching you drip honey for me—”

“Hey! None of that,” you snapped, cocking an eyebrow—and fighting the flutter in your chest and the heat tingling down your core, “There are young ears present, Shakespeare Erotica. Not to mention young eyes.”

You would do no such thing with him as long as this teenager remained in close quarters and under your care. He turned to look at Cee, as if he’d forgotten all about her for a moment. Or maybe it was that he didn’t care. Bastard.

“I’m okay as long as you guys don’t fuck in front of me,” Cee sighed, resigned to have dealt with too much in her past to be worried about flirting—no, verbal-fucking.

“We won’t be doing any of that,” you assured her, giving Ezra another pointed look before slinging his arm around your shoulders and helping him to the cot. He grumbled incoherently, moaning and groaning the few steps it took to ease him down into the squeaky frame.

When you finally got him down—forced him to lay down—he let out another soft whimper of pain, followed by your name. “Don’t go.”

Brushing the hair off his sweaty forehead, you bent down to press a kiss there, “M’right here, Ez. Rest. I’m gonna clean you up, okay?”

It was the least you could do—and that way you could take inventory of every inch of him to ensure he didn’t have any other wounds hiding and festering and threatening his life. Just as this wouldn’t be your first time tending to him while he laid incapacitated, he’d done the same for you plenty of times. There was very little, if anything at all, the two of you hadn’t seen of each other. Vulnerability had another name here: normalcy.

“After—” he rasped up at you, coughing and then righting himself, “After we find our way off this Kevva-damned moon—which we will—I understand if you no longer deem me…worthy of your affections. It’s the only explanation I can find for your denial of my offer to dote on you. I only pray you make good on your long-standing promise to drop me where I stand should I ever disappoint you, dear heart of mine.”

Okay, you didn’t know where all the insecurity and sentiment was coming from, especially hearing it from the mouth of your dear old confident mean-streak Ezra, but he couldn’t possibly be serious. It made you ache to think that he didn’t trust you to stay with him, that he viewed himself as lesser because he lost his arm. Well, he was lesser, but only by mass.

Also, really? The only explanation he could find for you not wanting to sleep with him was that you hated him and didn’t want him because of his injury? He couldn’t think of any more glaringly obvious reasons, those of which had just been pointed out to him?

With a sigh, you brushed your thumb across the silvery scar on his cheek, “Rest now, chatterbox. I’ll be here when you wake up—and every morning after, for as long as I can. Only death could pry you from me, and me from you. You’ve got me, forever….I still see you as you are—a hundred percent you, a hundred percent mine.”

The words felt foreign on your lips, but he was bound to forget them the moment he fell asleep, so you didn’t feel as weird waxing poetic right back at him. The man had rubbed off on you in more ways than one. You normally didn’t speak to one another so frankly—at least, you didn’t, given the nature of what it meant to care out here and how you’d already unofficially established that you two were something more—but tonight you couldn’t fucking help it.

Ezra leaned into your touch, pawing at it with his hand, grabbing onto your fingers and kissing into your palm. A dull smile poked at his mouth and he let it engulf him. “Quite the charmer you are, siren.”

You didn’t respond, only half-smiled and wriggled—reluctantly—from his grasp to grab a few clean cloths and fill a bucket with water. After squirting the sanitizing solution in the water, you simmered the lights down to the lowest setting, to where your eyes had to adjust for a moment before you could make your way across the tent. His gaze bore into you—no, both Ezra and Cee watched every move you made; one in lazy admiration and the other in curiosity.

“Do you need me to put a drape over the post? I’m strippin’ him,” you asked Cee as you slung Ezra’s clean shirt from off the drying line onto your shoulder—you smiled at the floor, thanking yourself from hours ago for deciding not to burn it. You grabbed the bucket and tottered over to him, nodding at him to scoot. He obliged, giving you room to sit by his hip so you could ease his clothes off.

Cee shook her head when you looked to her for a response, opting to sit on your cot facing away from you with her nose in her book, so you shrugged and tugged the fabric off of Ezra in slow, deliberate motions, wincing every time he grunted.

As you took the time to clean off the grime and dirt and sweat of the Green, he told you about running into Cee and her father Damon; how he tried to take his entire harvest from the few cycles he’d spent with Two; about Two’s untimely, irrational outburst that cost them their life. About the Queen’s Lair and the mercs, and the plan to ravage and plunder and take it all for themselves. You thought the Queen’s Lair was a rumor. Not even a rumor—a myth, a legend, something fabricated by desperate fools with hazy minds of dust and their eyes set on fortune. But Ezra told you he’d seen part of it marked on Cee’s map, that her father was contracted to help extract the deposit. Cee even pulled her map out to point to the marked areas, albeit with clinical movements and short words.

So you made a plan to head out at first light, with the trip taking most of the daylight, and they’d be cutting it close but there was no way you’d let Ezra hike so many klicks in his state—not without a few hours’ rest first.

After you’d managed to clean his legs, his hips, his feet and get him into something more comfortable than compression pants, you moved to his torso and traced over each scar marring his skin, each jagged edge where something hadn’t healed right or wasn’t stitched properly. He’d lost some weight under the harsh conditions of the Green—you both had. But he still held onto muscle from the toil that came with survival on such harsh terrain; and he was naturally broad, he always would be, which made him sturdy.

Your fingers ghosted over a few microtattoos he’d gotten; one beneath his ribcage, one on his hipbone, and the one you’d given him yourself on his lower sternum. That one, as you brushed over it with a wet cloth, never failed to make you smile. A sad smile, but a smile nonetheless.

A tiny, unfilled heart, a mere outline, barely a centimeter in size. It was messy, simple, done in minutes. But it meant something, meant exactly what you’d never quite been able to voice.

My heart is yours. Take it.

You’d done it one night when the two of you had gone on a two spin bender, which happened more towards the end of your glory days, when the drugs came easy and heavy and the illusion of time slipped by like sand on the wind.

Any time someone hired your services as cleaners, it took a toll. They didn’t do it often because of that, but the payout was worth the work. No matter how many times you swore you would never do it again, you went back. Because it was hard to ignore the way it felt to flood a deserving someone’s mouth with the taste of their own blood, or to slip a knife in between their ribs and let it slide like butter and watch the light die. It was hard to ignore that you liked it, especially when it was so violent—one of the worst sins to commit, and you enjoyed it.

The act of killing had become cathartic for you. It made you feel more alive, reminded you that you had a beating, bloody heart, and a brain, and veins that pumped blood, and muscles that tore apart and rebuilt themselves stronger. Killing came easy when you didn’t know the target. It felt like a game.

Ezra didn’t enjoy it as much as you did—not to say he didn’t enjoy it at all, for he most certainly did. But he didn’t process it the same way you did. He saw killing as a means to survive and a means to get where he needed to go. He enjoyed turning it into a game, making fun out of whatever circumstance presented itself.

But that one—the last one—it had gone wrong. Messy, slow, noisy, choppy. There was only supposed to be one person in the house: typical target, a man who owed the wrong people a whole lot of money and refused to pay up.

One man.

One man was all you’d expected.

One man was all you’d been instructed would be in the condo.

He went down easy enough, quiet enough—Ezra snuffed him and stuffed him and you’d made to transfer his points into the right pockets.

And that was that.

They had tossed the bodybag over the high-rise balcony and into the pits of the bottomless highway next to the building, with a blinker-bomb inside just in case.

That was that.

Except it wasn’t, it was so fucking far from it.

Ezra, being himself, had wanted so bad to sneak in a quickie before heading back—an unholy, immoral ritual you two had initiated, to fuck where you killed—and who were you to protest? Who were you to say no to pretty words and soft eyes glittering with an untamed wild? To say no to the hands that already ripped at gear and pushed beneath underwear just to get a taste—you couldn’t, it was impossible.

Fresh off a high of adrenaline, pulsing with nervous energy—he was always so good, he always got you right where you needed and then that much further.

And Ezra—being himself—could not keep his fucking mouth shut. The stereotype about men holding in their moans, about them never whimpering or whining or groaning or grunting—yeah, that was a load of Bearkie-shit.

Maybe it held true for some men, but.

Not your Ezra. Not even a little bit.

He talked like heaven’s mouthpiece—or maybe the devil, given all the sinful things he’d whisper to you in the crux of any given night. He let loose whatever noise he deemed necessary to make.

They’d only just made it to the dried, bloody stain on the carpet (a bed on which to copulate), knocking over a floating hilolamp and pulling a chuckle from your paramour, when a shout rang through the apartment and shattered your moment into a thousand pieces.

It was only supposed to be one. One man.

Instead, you were met with another man who you’d later learn to be his brother, the target’s mother, and his pregnant wife.

The man held onto some type of curved sports bat, keeping it up threateningly as if warning you of something imposing. Ezra didn’t hesitate to shoot him in the head, not even bothering to get up from where he’d pressed his hips between your legs. But then you’d had to go and check the other rooms, effectively killing any mood the two of you had shared.

Because fuck, where the men had no fight in them, the women wouldn’t go down without a struggle. Or maybe it was that you pitied them, and it distracted you. They’d already peeked their heads out from behind the door of the master bedroom, worried and doe-eyed and determined.

Maybe if they hadn’t seen your faces—if they’d still been asleep while you swept for warm bodies after the first assailant—maybe they’d have gotten out with their lives. But who were you kidding? You killed without thought. You’d likely have put a pillow over their heads before aiming your thrower and firing twice for good measure, had you been sharp and not distracted by a tongue in your mouth.

Instead, Ezra had the audacity to try to bargain with them. Something about having a soft spot for mothers—his own having been a beacon in his life until she left him orphaned as a young boy. He made it a point not to kill women and children. It was one thing in which he remained unwavering. (He’d kill a grown woman if she gave him reason to, like he had on Exon-5, but that was another story for another time, and a different circumstance which called for such measures, namely that of protecting you.) But he should have known better, he should have known not to try something like that. He should’ve known that he’d have to let go of the final shred of morality he held onto.

So Ezra took down the old woman in a way you still have yet to ask about and don’t care to know; and you’d ended with the pregnant woman choking on her own blood when you twisted your knife into the dip of her throat—and you felt awful about it after watching her crumble beneath you, but she’d hit you upside the head with a thick textbook of outdated skimmer-craft modules and it made you see red among pinpricks of stars.

And that night, after all was said and done they’d spent a fortune on getting high—just to forget, just to be okay.

That night they’d locked themselves in a self-imposed prison of satin sheets and destructive tendencies. Two days buzzing with no food, little water, just him and you and needles and spoons and eyedroppers and blades and pills. Like you couldn’t breathe if he didn’t fill you with all of him, you wouldn’t be able to stand upright if he took his hands off you and stopped letting you flood your veins with a chemical glow. Heavy eyelids, messy sex, raw arms and red eyes.

It felt fucking awful, coping that way, but it felt too fucking good and it made you forget about the lives you’d taken in (somewhat) cold blood.

So after sprawling beside him on the gigantic plush bed with his hand ghosting over your spine, you’d found a part of yourself snagged at the corner of this wild-eyed man’s tar-black soul, and you had thought about what could have happened in an alternate universe.

A moment when he was the target, you were (somehow) the pregnant wife, and you watched him die before succumbing to the dark of your own soul escaping you. And it made you desperate to cling to him as he was in the moment, desperate to know that he was yours and you were his. It was then that you’d asked him if you could mark him. Claim him, to know that he wouldn’t leave you like that, and if he did, he’d have a piece of you everywhere. He’d go down with a piece of you.

Ezra had been delighted, of course, as he was always one for symbolism and deeper meaning even if he didn’t quite understand the rhetoric. And it wasn’t the first time you’d marked each other, just a different time with a different meaning. So he let you dip a sterile needle in ink and plunge it into the tender skin of his chest.

You had one too, a heart on your sternum. Nestled between your breasts, just close enough to your heart to feel like it mattered, like it meant that he felt the same. But you didn’t even let yourself go that far—you two were doped up and delirious and he enjoyed marking you in any way he could, so an opportunity to stick and poke his way further into your skin than he already had was an opportunity he could not pass up. At least, that was how you saw it. Nevertheless, it made you happy to see it there on his chest, and to have one that matched.

Ezra’s soft voice snapped you from the memory.

“What’s crossed your mind to make you so delicate in your touch, so solemn in your stare?”

You realized you had stopped your ministrations and had planted your palm on his chest, staring just over his shoulder and onto the canvas beside him. With a careful hand, you resumed gentle motion over his pecs, up his clavicle, his throat.

“Thinking about Beta-Mobilia,” you whispered, unable to meet his eye, “And after.”

“Mm,” he grunted in recognition, the vibration tickling your fingertips, “Regrettable night. Unavoidable, necessary. But I dwell in shame identical to yours.”

“I don’t deserve to be here after that. I didn’t deserve to live after the Exons, The Grime. Why am I still alive?”

“We’ve discussed this in great length by now, siren. Don’t doubt your existence. It’s beyond sense, beyond comprehension.”

You nodded, still unable to look at him. But then he latched onto your wrist, brushing his calloused thumb over the delicate skin there, and this time you couldn’t keep your gaze away from the soft smile that begged to form on his lips.

“And I appreciate your tender care, wildfire,” he hummed, eyes glittering up at you like two dark pools of amber, “Where would I be without it? Mmm…mhm. Dead, likely. Or bitter. Wicked with taciturn rage. No meaning could come from that.”

“You, bitter and unspeaking? Unthinkable, I’d sooner pronounce you dead,” you drawled, thankful for his kindness to grant distraction, and he granted you an eye-roll. But his expression softened when you sat him upright and maneuvered behind him, wiping down his back in gentle strokes. You folded the cloth over once the side turned brown with grime, and moved up to his neck, scrubbing over his shoulders and giving short strokes down his nape and behind his ears.

“So you planned to go ravage the Queen without me, huh?” you asked quietly, irked that he hadn’t even come to find you before setting out on that venture, “Planned to leave me to rot on the Green, take the money for yourself and steal away with the girl.”

Ezra sighed, and you could see from behind his shoulder how he worked his jaw, formulating what to say.

“Understand that I do nothing without you willingly. Birdie over there’s about as fleeting as a real one. But trust that I planned to come get you—I’d never leave you stranded. I just couldn’t introduce another person into the threadbare alliance I had forged until the time was right.”

“She likes me,” you countered, smiling over at Cee, who now laid with her back facing you as her ribs contracted with the first breaths of sleep. A sign of trust. You didn’t know when exactly you’d earned it, but you’d accept it nonetheless. She had also taken both of your throwers (something you protested and Ezra waved off), so maybe that helped.

“No doubt—there’s plenty to like about you.”

Ever the flatterer, even when delirious with pain.

With a coy smile, you scrubbed over his head and then his face, careful to avoid his snapping mouth that reached out ever so often to nip at your hand—there was that playfulness, the natural effervescence of his presence. When you decided your work was done, you eased him back down on the cot and he allowed it with no protest.

You fluffed his pillow and moved the book you’d stashed beside it. He turned his head and pressed his nose to the pillow, grunting in mild appreciation.

“Smells like you down here,” he remarked with a half-smile, eyes drooping, “You sleep on my cot while I was away?”

“I missed you,” you whispered, nodding, just now aware of how much his presence affected you. To think that you had resolved to try to move on without him—it seemed ridiculous now.

“I missed you,” he returned, “You haven’t the slightest idea how much I wanted you beside me. Number Two was a fond ally but not a companion. Nothing like the banter we exchange, nor the secrets we share.”

“They never talked. I imagine your time away was just as lonely as mine.”

“Absolutely. I regret agreeing to leave with Two. But you know we couldn’t have trusted them to stay at camp while we went off—not absolutely. Not when they’d never spoken a word,” he chuckled and then coughed, a quiet rumble you felt against your leg as it zigzagged through his chest.

Thank Kevva you had a plan to leave now. The spent filter had taken a toll on Ezra—and it wasn’t even his to begin with. He insisted on giving you his when the one your new suit came with was almost completely used up.

Fuck the man for caring about you; he’d gone soft during your time on the Green, and you hated how much you loved it. Hated it because he needed to focus on himself, needed to stop putting you before him. Hated it because every day it made you feel like somehow, he loved you back. That somehow, he thought of you as more than just a constant in his life, more than a body to fuck and a brain to pick.

You’d grown used to each other. But his unpredictability oozed into every aspect of himself, every nook and cranny of his life, and you were too worried about fucking up a good thing over a simple conversation. All it took was one sensitive topic breached and you’d surely find yourself shit out of luck. He was all you had left of the scraps of a fucked up life. Without him, you’d make do but not without a struggle and not without reluctance. Some part of you knew he’d be the same even if he initiated a split.

The thought had you hurrying to tug his shirt on before gathering the cloths and scurrying to place the bucket near the front of the tent.

And you shouldn’t have been so scared to be honest with him—the two of you rarely kept things to yourselves. But to love someone so fully within your heart, to never want to be away from them, to never grow tired of their presence no matter how tedious they may be or frustrating they could get, it scared you.

“A kiss for the wounded?” Ezra asked, brown eyes wide and mouth pouty enough to break you from your racing mind. You softened then, padding back over to him on tiptoe and settling back at his side for a brief moment.

With a gentle smile, you leaned down to grant him a kiss to his lips—the first one you’d shared with him in fuck knows how long. Too long, that was for sure, because when your lips notched with his chapped ones you melted, every worry and every qualm simply washed away in a swirl of pink pleasure.

You couldn’t help yourself—an indulgent, quiet moan pooled in your chest and slipped from your throat before you could stop it, and he hummed right back when his tongue pushed between your lips and you let him devour you. Always the ravager, ever a greedy bastard when it came to his pleasure, he licked up into your mouth and tangled his tongue with yours. It took very little for you to melt right into his chest, pressing your own against him and whimpering when he sneaked his hand up the hem of your shirt to rub circles over the skin of your back. You remained sloppy and almost lazy but intentional as you held either side of his nape and toyed with the strands of his still-damp hair, pouring yourself into this kiss like you’d never kiss him again.

Fuck. Fuck, you wanted him so bad. You missed this man with every vibrating inch of you. You missed his body, you missed his voice calling to you from the very depths of himself, you missed everything about him, and you needed him as close as possible. Closer than close, you needed him.

But fuck. You couldn’t. When you pulled back for air, it didn’t surprise you when he pressed his palm flat on your back to keep you from moving too far.

“Mm, baby—you’re divine. I ache for you,” he all but whimpered into your mouth, breath brutally hot and heavy as he fed you his soul, “Come sit down on me—come take what’s yours. I want to feel you strangle me, show me just how much you—”

“No, Ez,” you cut him off in a biting whisper, lips kiss-swollen, hating how, if there had been literally any other person in the tent beside you, you might’ve taken him up on the offer, “I want to, I promise you that. But she’s a kid and I have limits—one of those limits is fucking in the same room as one.” You glared at him with half a heart, then leaned down to run the tip of your nose along the curve of his ear, smiling when he shivered, “I swear, once we get out of here I’ll make it up to you so many times you’ll forget your own name. You get first choice—however you want me, I’m yours to take.”

“Fuck—alright, I apologize for my eagerness,” he smiled, tilting his head to kiss your forehead.

“But,” you whispered, your heart racing as you glanced over to be sure Cee had fallen asleep before inching up to look back into his eyes. Fuck it, he deserved it. “If you stay quiet, I’ll take care of you right now.”

His eyebrows raised in deft interest at your offer.

“Will you let me take care of you, Sailor?”

Ezra would never admit it, and you’d never tease him about it because it made you feel some kind of way—but he fucking adored when you used his callsign. You were his siren, after all. Only made sense for him to draw to you like a dying man at sea when you called for him. You used it rarely aside from in the field, opting for your preferred chatterbox—because he was more that than anything else—so it came as a treat when you decided to pull it from your bag of tricks.

“I can hardly refuse such a tempting offer.”

“Quiet, though,” you reminded him, tiptoeing your fingers across his chest and tugging the waistband of his pants and his underwear down. Just enough to spring his cock free, which was already hard and leaking for you.

Fuck, he was such a gorgeous sight, and you couldn’t help the urge to cup his balls and nudge them free too, to admire every glorious inch of him.

Spreading your fingers out over his groin through the coarse curls gone wild with mistreatment, you paid extra attention to the white patch of hair ghosting over the base of his cock and spreading out near his abdomen before stopping abruptly on the left and diverging back down into dark brown. You remember when you’d first noticed it and had all but squealed in delight.

Every bit of him was a pleasant surprise, just as you’d found yourself more than eager to let him ruin you for anybody else with the sheer size of him.

Nobody fucked you like they were dying and you were salvation; nobody but him. And shit, did he tear you open. As if he’d carved a space inside of you just for him, each time he’d leave you with a hollow ache that only he could sate.

“Baby,” you purred in a whisper, kissing his hipbone and then leaning up to wrap your hand around the girth of him, rubbing your thumb over the weeping red of the head, “You’re so pretty for me like this.” Forever a glutton for compliments, he whimpered his soft appreciation and you hushed him accordingly. He was so thick, so big that you struggled to touch the tip of your middle finger to your thumb, so long that if you had planned to swallow him down tonight, you would’ve been needing your hand to help. But tonight you could not risk the absolutely filthy noise of you gagging on him; he’d likely cum faster and in less time to worry about waking up a certain tentmate, but you wanted to watch every muscle in his face twitch, wanted to see him take his pleasure unobstructed by your tears. This way was quieter.

So with that thought in mind, you shifted to straddle one of his thighs so you could watch him without tiring your hand in an awkward position. Then you let a string of spit drool down and over him and you gave him a twist and then more, sharp and sudden and fast in your movements as opposed to the slow, appreciative way you’d unsheathed him.

Ezra hissed out a curse, bucking up into your hand, “Shit, darlin’—“

Arching an eyebrow, you halted your work on him immediately. His pulse beat through the throbbing vein jutting out

“What did I tell you?” you snapped. With your free hand you reached up and wrapped your fingers around his neck, feeling the column of his throat contracting as he swallowed. Wide brown eyes looked up at you, a tinge of amusement in their stare.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” you asked in a low rasp, tightening your grip on his neck and giving him a little shake before going slack again, “I don’t wanna hear a single word come outta that pretty-boy mouth. If I do, I’m blue-balling you. Fair?”

Ezra nodded, his gorgeous fat mouth blessedly shut for once.

“Good boy,” you cooed, kissing him before forcing his jaw open and spitting in his mouth. It would’ve been cruel but you meant it so affectionately, and his gentle moan told you he was more than willing to accept it.

You felt his cock twitch beneath your fingers and you simpered, giving a little shimmy of your shoulders in appreciation.

Controlling this stubborn man, resorting him to silence made you feel powerful. It made you feel respected, worshipped; if the man who never shut up and always called the shots would gladly take the backseat and grant you the power to take charge, that meant more than you could wish for.

So you resumed pumping his cock, working him with both hands and then switching to hold onto his throat again before going back to two hands. The act still made quite some noise—filthy and wet and sloppy—but at this point you were less concerned about it than you had been prior. When you decided, despite his tip dripping precum, to spit down onto him again for the fun of it and twist him with a gentle tug, he couldn’t stop the whine that left him even with his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. It had you darting to clamp over his mouth, shooting daggers down at him as he stared up with a silent apology in his eyes, one you might have taken as genuine if not for the way the brown of his irises had disappeared into black, blown out with lust and glassy with pleasure.

“If you’re gonna cum, let me know so you can do it in my mouth. I just cleaned you up and I’m not doing it again.”

The last bit came out harsher than you meant but he took it all the same, biting back a grunt in the form of a sharp exhale as he twitched violently in your hand. Yeah, he didn’t really need to let you know when he was about to blow; you knew him too well. At that, you took it upon yourself to remove your hand from his mouth in favor of scooting to lean down and put your mouth over his angry, swollen tip, flinching at the way the frame creaked but ignoring it and opting to swirl your tongue over him instead.

“There it is,” you whispered with an arguably evil smile—quickly, before pulling him back into the heat of your mouth, resuming your work and grunting when he bucked up into your mouth, chasing the high you were drawing out of him.

Ezra came with a muffled, broken sob, his face buried in his arm as he bit down on his bicep, flexing and squeezing his fingers. A thick stream of his cum hit the roof of your mouth and you indulged him, taking him in further so you could swallow everything he gave you. Ropes and ropes and ropes of cum, like he hadn’t let himself get off in so long, like he’d been saving all of it for you. The thought made you whine around him, and you pulled off when he finished, flashing him your dripping tongue with his spend still on it and drawing it back in before any of it could spill.

“Holy fuck, baby,” he sighed, letting out a quiet, breathy laugh as he tugged on the front of your shirt to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue.

This time when you pulled back and smiled, you granted him a toothy grin, goofy and knowing. It took you a minute not to giggle like a little kid as you carded your fingers through his hair. He grinned right back, still catching his breath. To you, he was gorgeous, inside and out, flaws and all. You wanted to fuck him right then. You wanted to make love to him, to let him fill you entirely and to sob into his mouth, showing him everything you couldn’t tell him.

“Get some sleep,” you settled on instead, slipping off the cot with little grace after replacing the waistband of his pants, “We head out early tomorrow.”

“Hey now, what about you?” Ezra asked, brows drawn together in concern that you wouldn’t find the same enjoyment he did.

“You’ll just owe me.” You winked then, and gave him one last kiss, which he hummed into with a great appreciative rumble.

Then you pressed your forehead into his, “Mine—you’re mine. Never leave me again or I’ll hunt you down and kill you myself. You’re everything.”

Because he was.

“Nothing without you.”

That was his response, always always always. To hear it again pricked tears in your eyes, so much so you squeezed them shut.

And once again, you caught yourself wanting to say it. This time it had ghosted in your throat, almost making it into the curve of your mouth for you to hold its shape and give voice to a thought. But you stopped it before it could get far. Those three words, the same ones that now haunted you since you’d decided to indulge in every reminiscence involving them. Somehow he had come back to you, a feat which could not be commended enough, but now you ached for him—yearned for him even stronger than if he had well and truly died.

As you settled down onto the floor beside him, those three torturous words surfaced into a memory. The one that, among other fears, made you ever so hesitant to admit just how much you loved him.

————————————

“—In that vein, I don’t find myself in particular need of a great, star-shattering love story. If love is all-encompassing, I can do without the obstacle. Romanticizing my life and its quarrels is satisfaction enough.”

You didn’t know why you were still listening. You just knew that if Ezra kept it up, you’d find a way out of this cell just to break into his and strangle him. Anything to get him to shut the hell up. Banging your head methodically against the wall that separated the two of you, you didn’t even try to hold back your groan of displeasure as he rambled on.

“Now, don’t doubt my skill in worship. I have plenty of practice in the art of copulation”—you could hear the shit-eating grin on his face—“To say I haven’t affixed my interests on one soul or another at some point in time would ordain me a liar. I simply prefer to remain lovers in action…and not in name nor feeling. Companionship…yes, it’s something we all yearn for. It can’t be helped. A warm body, a brain to pick. All wonderful facets to enjoy for the sake of one’s own baser desiderata. But—“

“Shut up,” you bit out through gritted teeth, tugging at the roots of your hair when he kept going and you had to repeat yourself, “Shut up, you goddamned chatterbox. I don’t give a fuck about your love life. Why are you even talking about this?”

A brief silence occupied the space, as if he was thoroughly perplexed by your outburst. Then he let out a huffed laugh, amused.

“You inquired about the specifics of my occupation, little thorn.”

Every time he used that nickname for you—the thorn in my side—it made you bristle. Especially when he used it almost affectionately, soothingly, full of calm and charm that had you balling your fists and pricking the skin of your palms with your fingernails. You despised him, and he treated your existence as a joke, or as a little pet he would grab from its cage and admire before tossing it back and neglecting it until he deemed its presence acceptable again. Everything was funny. Everything could be laughed at. Sometimes you didn’t mind when the guards came to beat him bloody; it made him shut up, whether from pain or because he had passed out.

“Prospecting has nothing to do with love,” you snapped, shoulders tense despite the ache in your body. If these fuckers holding you captive didn’t kill you, the stress of surviving next to this fucker surely would.

“No, it doesn’t,” he agreed, suddenly serious, “Love for others, at least. Love for the dig, love for the hunt and the adventure—that’s a different narrative altogether. Which is why I deemed it appropriate to explain such measures. The lifestyle I settled for is no small undertaking. It comes with sacrifice.”

His condescension was unintentional but still stabbed and poked at you like keepers at a circus.

————————————

It comes with sacrifice. That it did.

That long-ago night haunted you to this day.

But Ezra had his mind focused on softer dreams as he broke you from your self-destruction once more.

“Nights like these make me keen to hear you sing for me again,” he lilted out through the dark, a reminiscent simper pulling at his mouth and crinkling his eyes as he shifted to look down at you, “The melody of your voice haunts the halls of my midnight reveries. But it is such a sweet possession—as though I willed a ghost to enchant me with her gift. A siren indeed. Lure me into the sea of your deception, try to pull me under like the rest of them. But not me. No…not me—I float like driftwood in the breeze…follow the tides of your affection. Somehow I remain unscathed, and you lap at me in gentle waves.”

“Such powerful words from a man who should be asleep,” you chuckled quietly, pressing your lips to the back of his hand where you held onto it now, fingers laced.

“I am but a vendor of poetry. And you, a weaver of melody. Sing for me, siren,” he murmured, his voice thick with the drowsy pull of lassitude. He hadn’t asked that of you in so long you had almost forgotten what it felt like to hear it. Almost. And you would have agreed to it, but—

“No, the girl, she—“

“I don’t mind,” Cee interrupted, quiet and soft. It surprised you; you thought she had fallen asleep—you didn’t want to wake her with your singing. And then you were—

Shit. You sincerely hoped she had just woken up due to Ezra’s long-winded soliloquy about your singing, and hadn’t heard anything else beyond that. Mm, no. You think she would’ve said something about how fucking gross it was. Or pulled a thrower on you.

“As well you shouldn’t,” Ezra chuckled, turning his head to grin at the girl where she had turned to face him on the opposite cot, “She sings like Kevva strung her throat with gold. Or the very strings of a harp.”

You blushed and ducked your head into your shoulder, embarrassed by his flattery. Looked to him and found his honey-dark eyes drinking you in from above, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he flattened his palm over your chest and rubbed it affectionately. “What would you like to hear?” you asked, running a hand over your hair and shifting on the floor to calm your nerves.

It was just Ez.

…and a girl who harbored a teen angst bigger than ten moons; fuck if you wanted her to judge you.

“Whatever tickles your fancy,” he replied, his grin wider now that you’d agreed, “You know I’m not particular to any one hymn—I find myself enraptured by it all.”

“Okay.” You pondered for a moment before settling on one of your favorites.

Then you sang.

Quietly, nervously at first in an unpracticed rasp, then growing more steady and mellow and soft.

Some swirling folk melody from your childhood in your native tongue, one you’d never forget even if someday you lost your memory. A lullaby for village children; a lilting work song for the women to hum when laundering clothes at the stream, soothing the babies strapped to their backs or their chests or both.

It told the story of a curious young girl who loved the stillness of the ocean, found peace in its silky depths. She liked the silence so much that she would spend hours beneath the water, training to hold her breath and exploring the creatures of the reef and listening to the wavering silence.

Until one humming summer night she swam so deep the water turned black. She was scared she wouldn’t be able find her way back home but she reveled in the quiet—the quiet that not even the nighttime forest could provide, nor the village when the hunters and scavengers left for work. It was then that she saw a light shining from the deep, and decided to chase it.

Down, down, down.

And down. Until the light became so bright it surrounded her, seeped into her until she did not know where she began and it ended. No pain, no fear surrounded her. Just a sense of calm, and peace.

And she became the moon, the biggest one in the sky. The silence up there was incomparable.

The song was meant as a warning to the village children not to wander too far from the town and somehow find themselves in the cove breaching the outer mountain range. A warning to stay away, else you’d become one of the many moons in the sky, never to return to your family and the life you loved.

But you’d always found it more compelling than that, more meaningful, because the story originated from a similar legend of the moon goddess your village worshipped, the deity of the biggest satellite in your skies. The minor difference came in the detail that she chose to become the Great Moon after divine conversation instead of chasing a light down into the deep on a whim. And there was a ceremony held to initiate her transition into a celestial body.

When you’d wrapped up the lullaby you found yourself more at peace than you’d felt in a long time. You didn’t like to think about your planet, nor your village, nor the tragedies that occurred there. But this memory was a happy one, filled with sleepy eyes and chubby fingers grabbing onto mothers’ cloaks, and getting tucked into warm soft blankets by a fireplace.

“Sweet siren,” Ezra whispered in a drowsy slur, giving your hand a gentle squeeze as he turned to rest on his back, “Never fail to soothe me even when ’m in utmost anguish.”

And with that, he left you in silence, and you knew he wasn’t far from sleep.

By the time his breath evened out, you felt your eyes drooping.

Fuck, you were exhausted.

This spin had been arguably more eventful than any you’d had in a long while, and it didn’t occur to you that you could be tired when you’d hardly done much until the action rolled in.

The floor was actually not half bad, given that you laid on the tarp that absorbed heat but quickly cooled when you moved. The nights here got cold, surprisingly. But Ezra’s hand hanging down and resting across your chest felt so good. The weight of him, the heat of him, it grounded you. You circled patterns into his upturned palm until you became too sleepy for that, settling on threading your fingers with his and feeling his pulse beneath your fingertips.

How dare he think you’d care for him less with only one arm? If anything, it showed his perseverance, his will to move forward and make hard decisions. Only something a man with determination could do.

He felt so warm and sure—steady. He was safe now that he had come back. You felt the inky black of sleep begin to wash over you as organized thought became jumbled feeling.

You didn’t have to worry anymore, not about his whereabouts. Everything was alright. It was as good as it had been in quite a while.

Everything would be alright, you could just…

Just…

“I wish my parents had loved each other like that,” Cee murmured in the quiet dark of the tent, rendering you wide awake with a jolt, as if someone had plunged a shot of adrenaline into your chest.

“They separate?” you managed, knowing it came out strange but not wanting to confirm or deny anything about you and Ezra. The silence that greeted you implied that she had had no intention of you hearing it. But she spoke regardless.

“No,” she scoffed, then went quiet for a moment, “My mom died when I was little. And I can’t remember what they were like together. We were always working so there wasn’t a lot of time for love between them.”  

Oh. An orphan. It softened you a little more for her, made you more sympathetic to the fact that Ezra had killed her last living parent. You were an orphan too. So was he.

“We’re all missing parts of our family in some way or another. People with worldly attachments don’t usually sign up for this level of intensity. Not the strays, anyhow.”

“But you have each other,” she insisted.

“By chance alone. We didn’t start off liking each other. And we’re not…married, or anything.”

The last bit came out strangled—you’d never…said something like that aloud.

You and Ezra, married? It was odd, to say the least. You never thought of yourself as one to desire marriage in any respect—ceremonial, legal, the like. It just didn’t sit well with you. Too many complications, a lot of governing body involvement that you didn’t care for.

And Ezra…he wasn’t too fond of it either. But not because he didn’t want it, that much he’d admitted to you one night after admitting the complications of his feelings on his love life, ones that somewhat contradicted the first time he told you about it all; he couldn’t have it, he’d never let himself believe even a fraction of him deserved it. The life of a floater—and sure, just as Cee’s parents had prospected and been married (you assumed) and had a kid, many others did the same. But then you supposed it ended with kids like Cee, and she was lucky to not lay dead next to her idiot father, or trapped and sold as a body in the Dark-Spawn Trades. Lucky Ezra wasn’t filthy and depraved, lucky you were once young and scared like her and so took it upon yourself to keep her in your sights for now.

“How’d you meet?”

A chuckle bubbled out of you as you sat up and ran your fingers through Ezra’s hair, watching his chest rise and fall in even strokes, thinking back on that night so long ago.

“Stealing supplies from the same drop company. Two feral dogs fighting over who deserved it more. We bickered and threatened so much we lost track of time and made a mess and a ruckus and got caught.” A smile threatened to break your features and you let it, for just a moment. It faded as you recalled your awful encounter, “Captured, tortured for information because they thought we worked for a rival mining company. They wanted the locations of dig-sites we didn’t have, mining techniques we didn’t know. When he brought up the Wastes earlier…that’s what he meant. Surprised we didn’t die, but they really thought we were valuable or something.”

You gave yourself a minute before continuing. In a panic, you rubbed circles over the tattoo on the web of Ezra’s hand between his thumb and forefinger, trying to ground yourself as wicked, blood-specked memories flooded your head.

Deep breath. You’re safe, he’s here. This will be good to get off your chest. You’ve never spelled it out to anyone before. Nobody’s ever asked. Maybe this girl is a gift from the universe, maybe she was sent here to give you space to heal. Deep breath. You’re safe. He’s here.

You eventually pressed the back of his limp hand to your cheek, and found your voice once more. You didn’t need to worry about waking him; once he conked out into REM sleep it took a freight train to wake him up. At least, when he was with you he always slept deeper. He’d told you one night; how it helped to have you there, like you dragged all the bad memories and nightmares away, pulling them so far out of reach he only found thoughtless, worry-free sleep.

“Hearing someone’s screams from the other side of a cell wall makes you more susceptible to care about them. A bonding experience, so to speak. He’d talk to me for hours on the nights they made us sit and anticipate another session. Recited poetry, recalled stories from his time as a prospector as an escape from our reality. I would sing for him, when we knew the guards had left. It was how we got to know each other. It’s—that’s why he calls me his siren. The reason I call him a chatterbox, among other obvious explanation.”

“How’d you get out?” Cee asked, resting her cheek on her hands as she laid on her side, watching you with keen interest.

“Killed them,” you rasped, not wanting to go into the gory details, “Every single one.”

For nights you had laid awake, haunted by memories of blood staining your only pair of clothes, blood splattering into your mouth, chunks of brain matter on Ezra’s gloves as he dragged you through a maze of tents and established buildings, viscera on your recovered suit, the way you’d had to swallow bile back down your esophagus at the sight of all the lives you’d taken. But you had to do it; it’s what you told yourself when the images would replay every time you closed your eyes.

Vengeance, necessity, paired with Ezra’s seemingly insatiable bloodlust—and your own. Your own shameful desire to incite violence, one you bred in the early years of your youth and had stuffed away until needed.

But you hadn’t been able to deny that, when Ezra shot a man who’d pinned you to the ground and then finished him off with a knife spurting blood out his neck, it stirred your blood something wild. Hearing him panting through the transmitter, grunts and curses as he tore through humans and humanoids and alien creatures alike right beside you. Hearing him call out targets, watching your six, taking single-word direction from you when you did the same.

They worked like a well-oiled machine, like you two had never not known the other. And he was sloppy in his technique, grounded more in brute force than strategy—but you made up for that in quick, evasive maneuvers and stealth. Both of you had near-perfect aim and could work around the clunky gear of your suits.

Messy—pools of blood, the sickening crunch of bone and cartilage crushed beneath your hands and your feet and your knife and whatever other weapon you scavenged along the way.

It felt like a ritual. A baptism of carnage that ensured neither one of you could live without the other.

So of course, when it all was over and the last vertebra snapped—

—there had been filthy, unhinged, surely unsanitary, bio-hazardous fucking in a tent surrounded by carnage.

Fucking in way you could only describe as feral.

Unrestrained.

Hot, Kevva’s saints was it brutally hot and so needy—but also so, so tender.

Full of soft emotion. Unspoken, even for Ezra’s standards. Almost loving.

Your aching bodies, exhausted and weak and battered, dragged lazily against one another once both of you had ceased the initial writhing pace of passion and the adrenaline ebbed. It tasted tinny like blood and musky like spit and salty with sweat and tears, and if nothing more, it was real. Whispering about how fuck, they’d made it and god, they were on the same level, we made it, baby—can’t live without you, I need you I need you I need you—

That day was quite possibly your favorite memory as well as one of your darkest. The day that you knew, in the charred, most twisted part of you, that you’d follow this man to the ends of every planet, to the far reaches of the universe—and he’d very well do the same.

Of course, you shared none of that with Cee.

“We took down the main base of the entire company. They were small but well-endowed. Got to transfer points into our accounts and sort through the mining equipment and the food,” you offered instead after a long bout of silence, “And the spoils of their labor. We were rich, could have retired early.”

“Why didn’t you?”

You debated whether to lie or tell her the truth, deciding on the latter. This girl wasn’t a threat, she genuinely wanted to know. “Ezra and I have—had a certain…interest in finding thrill wherever we can.”

Cee quirked an eyebrow, and you elaborated, “It’s not something to romanticize, we certainly weren’t smart about our spending. Gambling, drugs, slingshot scooter racing, smuggled creature ring-fights. The risk makes winning worth it. It was addicting. We earned a lot. Uncountable amounts of money. But we spent it all and then spent more. Pulled stunts that not even the most daring would try. Heists, intel-theft for enemies of certain people. We got caught up in it. Eventually drowned in a swamp of debt and unrequited favors. Got put on watchlists by the head crime syndicate and peace officers alike in the Core Worlds because we got cocky. Sloppy. So many people want our heads on a stake that we’d be better off dying out here. It’d be ironic, given the executions we deserve.”

You shuddered at the thought of Karolclan and their unusual procedures for punishment. They wanted you the most—you owed them the most. Them and Omni-Five. But Karolclan was decidedly worse.

“Why are you still mining? Wouldn’t it be easier to hide somewhere less dangerous?”

“We have debts to pay, bird,” you sighed, fond of the nickname Ezra gave her as it fit her well, “It’s the only honest work we can get without a biotracker recognizing our scans or someone realizing that the burner names and scouting codes we give them are bullshit. We work alone—no drop company, no mining corps. Until we can get our names cleared and our bio-scans off the watchlist, we can’t do shit else.”

If nothing more, Karolclan did allow debt payoff. But only if you could evade their capture, and only if you had the means to satisfy compounded interest. They were brutal, ruthless.

“He said you had a crew…and a ship…before you ended up stranded.”

“We did. A group of people like us. But you can imagine that a group of outlaws don’t always see eye to eye—buncha hotheaded criminals. Fought over aurelac, argued over fair shares, resources, everything.”

That wasn’t the whole story.

It started as a dispute over aurelac, but had quickly turned into a spat against Ezra, why he had so many successful harvests and surely he was stealing or cheating, how it wasn’t fair that you two were attached at the hip and didn’t section off when you split into groups to cover more land. In the heat of argument and the desperation of man, that had morphed into threats against you—Why don’t you fucking share her, Ezra? We all have needs and she’s barely good at the dig-sites. Put her to use somewhere else or we’ll find a use for her, and that devolved into Might take her right from under you if you don’t watch yourself, don’t be surprised if you hear her struggle tonight.

You had gotten used to the crude commentary, the snickers and wolf-whistles when you bent over, and if they had tried to somehow steal you away in the night, they’d have been reminded that you slept fully armed and showed no mercy to anyone who touched you unless they knew just where to start—and only one person did.

But that…that had not gone over well with him. It ended before you even knew what he did, and pretty soon you had a dead crewmate spilling blood over your boots while the familiar sound of throwers charging up rang in your ears, all of them pointed at the man panting beside you. The only one from the group to live and remain on the Green had been Two, and honestly you were never fond of them but weren’t surprised when they helped you and Ezra take the heat off your backs—they always teamed up with you two and they were good at what they did. It was a shame they were gone—despite their silence and threatening demeanor and sometimes uncalculated moves in a plan, they never made a move to harm either of you; they just wanted to harvest and get out like you did. Better them than Ezra, though. You’d have genuinely lost your mind if they had shown up in his stead.

“Did you kill the crew too?”

“Only a few,” you said honestly, “The others left us stranded when they realized we’d kill them next. Number Two was our only ally. Now they’re dead.”

You laid back down and put Ezra’s hand across your chest again, “Get some rest now. We’ve got a long day ahead of us. And if you choose to kill him while we sleep—kill both of us.”

You didn’t know why you’d felt compelled to say that, but revealing such a dark part of yourself to her convinced you that she’d plant a bolt in you or Ezra’s head and run. Ezra was the more likely target, given his history with the girl. It was irrational, for the most part; if she truly wanted him dead she would have let his wound kill him. Or she would have shot him sooner. But you couldn’t be too sure.

And you’d sooner die than wake up to him cold next to you.

#ezra (prospect) #ezra x reader #ezra x f!reader #ezra (prospect) x reader #anya writes #ohhhh boy! a second installment #pedrostories #ezra smut #cacoethes

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

Pairings: Arvin Russel x Fem!Christian!Reader

Summary: Arvin knew he shouldn’t have left you alone with that new preacher... 

Warnings: Sexual assault, physical assault, cursing, Teagarden being a perv, really nothing out of the ordinary for this movie. 

Word Count: 5250

_________________________

“Arvin! Stop!” You giggled, pushing your boyfriend off of you as he nibbled up and down your neck. There wasn’t anything sexual about it, he just loved to hear you laugh and he knew how much the action tickled your skin. “You’re so annoyin’!” You laughed, cheeks flushed red as you gently pressed on his head to try and move it. 

He pressed himself up, looking down at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever lay his eyes on. Arvin was straddling you, his knees trapping your hips beneath him. A hand was placed on either side of your head and he looked down at you, “But you’re so pretty when you laugh.” 

“Oh? And I’m ugly all the rest of the time?” You asked jokingly, hands reaching up stroke up and down his arms. 

Arvin leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before pulling away ever so slightly, hovering just above your lips. Both of your guys’ eyes were still closed as if it were a romantic moment until he whispered, “Ugly as a mule.” 

You both busted up laughing and you shoved him, his body rolling onto the blanket beside you, “I’m breaking up with you.” You teasingly told him. 

“Ah, c’mon. You know you love me.” He looked over at you, loving how the autumn sun lit up your features. 

“I tolerate you. Don’t get it mixed up.” You rolled your head over to see him already admiring you. Your smile got bigger when you locked eyes with him. 

“Well I love you.” Arvin admitted sweetly, bringing a gentle hand to your cheek and kissing you one more time. 

Arvin made you feel beautiful and special and safe, all those things that no boy had ever made you feel. He always had. Even when you were children back in middle school and neither of you really talked to each other, when you saw him around the halls, a peace just settled over you that made you feel like you were on top of the world. When the two of you began dating ten months ago, that never changed. 

“I love you too.” 

The two of you laid back against the yellow blanket with little orange flowers on it, the one that you’d taken from the linen closet back home. This was yours and Arvin’s favorite place, a little clearing in the woods. The grass was tall enough to be soft but not so tall that it hid critters. Flowers lined the edge of the woods in the spring. It wasn’t springtime now but that only meant that instead of a display of white and yellow flower buds, the pair of you had a beautiful show of brilliant reds and oranges from the falling leaves. 

Everyone in town knew you were together. Word spread fast around Coal Creek and it was nearly impossible to hide anything. Your families were both supportive of the relationship. Emma loved that you were involved with the church and put effort into the community when you could, often participating in bake sales around town. She liked to tease that you won Arvin over with your “man catching apple cobbler” as she now called it, since he officially asked you to be his girlfriend over a slice of the delicious dessert after a Sunday service. 

Your parents liked Arvin as well. Even after Fred Dinwoodie had told your dad about what Arvin had done to Gene, it surprisingly made him like Arvin more. “You got yourself a good man who knows right from wrong and ain’t afraid to stand up for the people he loves.” Was what he’d said, which had surprised you. You knew that Arvin had beaten all the boys right after he’d done it, since he came to you to help him calm down and ice his knuckles. You were terrified for your parents to find out, though, sure that they’d tell you to break up with him for fear of violent tendencies. Thankfully, that day never came. 

It was nice out there, bundled up in a warm brown coat, laying on Arvin’s chest, and watching the leaves fly across the crisp sky in the breeze. 

“We should probably get headin’ back.” You said reluctantly, pushing yourself up to sitting. 

“Why’s that?” Arvin perched on his elbow to watch you tighten the jacket around your frame, a cool breeze hitting just right. 

“The new preacher asked me to come by this afternoon. Said he needed help planning a fundraiser to raise money for the less fortunate families in town.” You traced a finger over his knuckles gingerly, small pink marks littering his knuckles from his attack on Dinwoodie and his boys still healing over. 

“Ain’t you one o’ them less fortunate families in town?” He asked, trying to find a way to talk you out of this. Ever since Preston Teagarden had humiliated Emma on his first day, Arvin had it out for the man. 

You scoffed with a chuckle, “Yeah, but you are too and your grandma is still always bringin’ stuff to church. Just cause I’m broke as shit doesn’t mean I can’t try to help other people who are broke as shit.”

Arvin stood up with you and helped you fold up the blanket, “I just don’t like that new preacher. Somethin’s off about ‘im.” 

“I agree that he was totally out of line callin’ your grandma out like that two weeks ago but I’d like to think that maybe I can talk to him about it.” The two of you began to walk back to Arvin’s car, grass swishing under your steps. 

Arvin’s face twisted, “I just don’t trust the man. He’s always up there on that damn stage actin’ all high ‘n mighty every Sunday like he ain’t done nothin’ wrong.” He reached forward and opened your door for you, closing it after you slid onto the seat. He walked around the car and got into the driver’s seat. 

“He’s a sinner like the rest of us. It’s just about doing what you can to make yourself better.” You responded, looking over at Arvin sweetly. He gave you a skeptic look and sighed deeply as he turned his attention back to look towards the road. With one hand on the steering wheel, he slid his free hand over to hold yours gently. The rest of the drive was in comfortable silence, with the exception of the radio quietly playing in the background. 

Arvin loved you. He really really loved you. You generally had your wits about you, a heck of a lot more than most of the girls in Coal Creek, not allowing your religion to totally cloud your vision. You were a good girl, good enough to make his grandma happy and not cause too much trouble around town, always helping those in need, but not so pious that you made everyone else around you feel like a sinner. You were still fun, you still made mistakes. Arvin felt like you were something between ethereal and real, somehow elevating him as a person but also showing him just how good life could be. 

Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but feel like you were making a mistake with this preacher. Of course, with your caring nature, you would help him, especially knowing it was for the poor folks in town. But something about Teagarden just made Arvin’s skin crawl. He just couldn’t put his finger on it… 

The tires rolled to a crunching halt on the gravel outside of the church. The graveyard to the side looked dark and gloomy as always, the cloud of loss looming over almost everyone in this town in one way or another. The church, though, stood small and humble in the field, white paint chipping after years of weathering. 

“Thank you for the ride.” You leaned over and pecked Arvin on the cheek. 

He let out a heavy sigh, “You really sure you don’t just want me to take you home?” 

You rolled your eyes at him with a sweet smile on your face, “Yes, I’m sure. It’ll be fine, Arv, but thank you for the concern.” Opening the door, you climbed out, “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“What? No. I’m givin’ you a ride home.” Arvin looked offended that you even suggested such blasphemy. 

“I don’t want you to have to drive all the way back here for me and I don’t know how long this’ll take. Besides, I don’t live too far from here.” You shook your head, leaning against the open door.

Arvin raised his eyebrows, “What kind of man would I be if I let you walk home alone at night? I’m givin’ you a ride home ‘n that’s final. I have to run to the market anyways to get some stuff for my grandma so I’ll just do that ‘n come back here for ya.” 

With loving warmth welling up in your chest, you leaned into the car, holding onto the roof for balance, while you kissed him on the lips, “I’ll see you in a few then.” 

Pulling yourself back out of the car, you closed the door and waved before spinning to walk towards the church. Looking behind you, you gave Arvin one final wave before disappearing through the door. 

The church was empty, though you expected nothing less on a Saturday afternoon. The pews were empty so you wandered into the building curiously. You closed the door behind you as you walked further in. “Hello? Reverend?” 

Preston Teagarden approached from the door off to the side of the main stage, where his office had been located, “Y/N! Forgive me, I expected you to be a little bit later.” 

You stopped in your tracks, “Oh, I’m sorry! You didn’t say an exact time. Just afternoon…” You chuckled awkwardly, suddenly feeling bad for arriving early. 

“No, no, it’s no problem at all,” He waved his hand dismissively. Teagarden made his way down the aisle a few rows before stopping, “So from what I’ve heard, you are the one to talk to about fundraising” 

Flattered, your cheeks turned a light shade of pink, “Oh, well I don’t know about that… I’ve done a few fundraisers but I wouldn’t say I’m the one to go to.” 

“Nonsense, girl! I’m sure you’ll help plan something amazing. Now, why don’t you come over here and we can start talking about it.” He gestured towards the pew he was leaning on and waited for you to sit down before sliding in next to you. 

Your legs crossed when you sat down, “So, I was thinking about this for a few days and the high school has a harvest festival every November. If we set up a bake sale, we could easily raise a few hundred dollars, at least. Everybody loves Mrs. Lyle’s lemon bars and I’m sure those alone could rake in a small fortune.” You giggled a little at your small joke and the preacher did as well. 

As he did so, his arm slid behind your shoulder so smoothly, you almost didn’t notice at first. Almost. Though the action took you off guard, you chose to write it off. People had done this before to you platonically so this probably didn’t mean anything. Just a show of interest in what you had to say. 

“Mmm, you’re makin’ me crave some sweets,” Teagarden chuckled, looking over his shoulder and then back around the room. 

“Well I can guarantee that you won’t be disappointed. Coal Creek ain’t got much but if we got one thing, it’s some mighty good bakers.” You dug around in your bag that you’d brought, searching for the journal that you’d been planning this event out on, “I actually did some math and I was thinking… we could charge a dime per cookie or a dollar a dozen, yeah? And then maybe a quarter for a slice of pie and then a dollar twenty five for-” 

The preacher stopped you, placing his hand on the notebook, “You really thought this out, huh? You sure are one smart girl there, Y/N. You go to the high school?”

The older man had scooched closer to you sometime during your ramblings and suddenly, you began to feel suffocated by his presence. His body was nearly flush against yours and his arm around your shoulders were trapping. 

He’s a preacher, he wouldn’t do nothin’, you tried to convince yourself but Arvin’s voice came ringing in your ears: I just don’t like that new preacher. Somethin’s off about ‘im. Trying not to be obvious, just in case you were misreading things, you slid away from him just slightly to put some distance between your bodies. As you did so, however, Teagarden’s hand closed around your left shoulder, rubbing it firmly but gently. 

Your eyes widened when you looked over at his grip and your heart began to pick up pace. “Yeah.” Your voice was shakier than you thought it would be. 

“What are ya? Junior, senior? You look young… but definitely not a little girl.” His eyes raked tactically over your body. Your legs were shaped out well in your cuffed denim jeans and your white and pink striped boat neck long sleeve shirt was far from revealing but Preston was well aware of the way the stripes curved out of place over your breasts. 

“Senior. I’ll be graduating this June.” Now your voice was solid and low, just teetering on threatening. 

The preacher smiled, “Ah, ain’t that exciting. Such a smart pretty little thing going out into the real world. It’s good to see a nice Christian girl going out there but y’know, the real world is real bad. Believe you me. You gotta be real careful out there. Temptation and sin ‘round every corner. The devil hides himself, y’know? Wraps up all his evil and disguises it as everythin’ you ever wanted.” 

“A wolf in sheep’s clothing.” You stated quietly but firmly, looking up to lock eyes with him. Arvin was right. Something was certainly off about this man and you were becoming more and more uncomfortable by the second. 

Preston smiled proudly, “That’s right. Now, you gotta make sure you ain’t fallin’ into any o’ his traps.” 

Your jaw clenched and your eyes darted around the room before landing in your lap, “I’d like to think I got a good ‘nough head on my shoulders to see Satan working in disguise.” 

He tsked, “That’s a good start but you can’t go relyin’ on your own knowledge of the world. You need to let God tell you what’s right ‘n wrong. Trust in Him.” His hand on your shoulder shook you slightly for emphasis while his other pointed upwards towards Heaven. 

There was a brief moment of silence in which you could have heard a pin drop before he spoke again, “How is your walk with God?” 

You looked over at him with narrowed eyes, “It’s alright. Could be better but everyone’s could, I s’pose.” 

“I agree,” Preston’s leg started bouncing and he looked towards the front of the church, where he typically stood preaching, “E’ryone could walk a little closer. Myself included.” He gestured to the front of the church, “Why don’t we pray? C’mon over here.” 

He stood up and walked up to the head of the room, just below the cross. Cautiously, you followed him. “I like to think as a man of God, I can do some of His work. Or rather put the good word out there and try to save as many souls as possible. Why don’t you get on your knees? Lemme pray for ya.” 

A shiver ran through your spine as you knelt down on shaky knees, eyes going up to the large black cross that hung on the wall. Please, Lord, get me out of this. You prayed silently. 

Preston stood behind you, his hands coming to your shoulders as he began, “Lord, today we pray for Y/N and her excursions into the world as a young woman. Help her see through the devil’s delusions and guide her through this world. Lord, I pray that you see Y/N in everything that she is as she dedicates her whole self to you. Give her strength, amen.” 

“Amen.” When your eyes slid open, your whole body was shaking. 

“So you say you got some good judgement?” Preston asked as you stood up, “Say you walk in the light?” 

“I try to but we all have our slip ups.” You answered humbly and honestly, avoiding his eye contact. 

Preston hummed, “I seen you with that Russell boy. Y’all going steady?” Silently, you nodded in response. “There’s a lot of temptation in relationships like that.” 

It was clear what he was insinuating and it actually made you mad. What right did he have to be poking around in your romantic and sexual life? “Has he ever touched you?” 

The bluntness of his question hit you like a rock, “With all do respect, Reverend, that ain’t really none of your business.” 

He put his hands up in surrender, “I don’t mean to pry. I’m just concerned ‘bout that boy dragging you down into temptation. Sullying your position with the good Lord, ‘n all.” 

“Arvin is a perfectly respectful man. He ain’t draggin’ nothin’ or nobody down.” Your voice was getting more aggressive. 

“So he hasn’t touched you? He hasn’t seen you…” 

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Like I said, that ain’t none of your business. Thank you for your concern for my soul but what Arvin and I do is between us and the Lord. I don’t need no middle man reverend to redeem me.” 

He shrugged, “But you know, one of the best ways to get right with the Lord is to surrender yourself. Fully.” He took a few steps towards you and your breathing hitched. There was a sexual tension in the air that made your skin crawl. 

“I’ve already given my life to the Lord.” 

You weren’t giving in quite as easily as Preston had expected. Those other girls, Lenora and Jeanette Reaster, had been easily manipulated into giving Preston what he wanted. Just tell them they were unclean and needed to get right with the Lord and right into his trap they fell but you… you were different. Smart in the worldy kind of way. You were the first girl to give him a hard time but Preston would be lying if he said he didn’t like the chase. 

You were staring daggers at him, your jaw clenched, and your body standing tall and strong. It was almost as if you were trying to prove a point. You could have run, could have darted out screaming about what had happened, but you didn’t. There was no proof and Preston knew it. This was how he got away with it all. No proof, all words and small touches that were just innocent enough to be misread. It wasn’t until he got them in the backseat of his car or in the office in the back of the church that he actually touched them but by then, it was consensual. Sure, for Lenora and Jeanette there was the issue that they were minors but that was the fun of these little towns like Coal Creek, The girl always took the fall. It was always her fault. Preston could get off scotch free and he knew it. He loved it. 

Almost like something out of a movie, he reached down and gently settled one hand on your hip and the other on your cheek, pressing his lips against yours without giving you a chance to object. You yelled indignantly against lips but when he pulled away, the hand on your cheek moved to cover your mouth. Preston leaned in close to your ear and whispered, “I am an extension of the Lord’s work. Surrender yourself to me fully to surrender yourself to Him.” 

** 

Arvin watched as you walked into the church with a distrusting pang in his gut. There was just something about that reverend that didn’t sit right. It killed him to watch you leave, knowing that you were alone in there with him.

But he also knew you were a big girl. The logical part of his brain kept screaming at him that he was being irrational. The reverend was probably an okay enough guy. He’d never be number one or even number twenty on Arvin’s list of favorite people but that didn’t necessarily mean that the preacher would kill your something. Besides, Arvin really did need to run to the market. Lenora had requested some pecans for a pie she wanted to bake and his grandma  needed more milk. It would be a quick trip as town was just a short drive down the street. 

Reluctantly, Arvin backed out the driveway and sped off down the street. 

The entire time that Arvin was at the market, there was an unsettling tingle all around his body. It got harder to ignore as more time passed. The longer he left you with Teagarden, the worse he felt. 

“Just these.” Arvin threw a bag of pecans and a gallon of milk on the counter and paid for it quickly, rushing back to his car. He wouldn’t be having these feelings for no reason. Best case scenario, you were absolutely fine and Arvin was just being paranoid. Worst case scenario… Arvin couldn’t think about it because every time he thought of one, another worse one popped into his brain. 

It had only been about twenty minutes since Arvin left you alone with the preacher. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how long planning a fundraiser would take. Church activities had never been his thing but he supported you as long as it made you happy. 

He sat in the car in the church parking lot, lighting up a cigarette to calm his nerves. Arvin’s leg bounced anxiously as he watched yet another late autumn storm roll in. The clouds cast a dark gloominess, turning the minimal light left from the mostly set sun a shade of grey.. There Arvin sat for another five minutes, awaiting your exit from the building but it never came. 

Fuck it. Arvin twisted his hat on straight and threw the door open, nearly stomping out. He couldn’t put his finger on it but something was wrong. He could feel it. 

Sure enough, when he threw the door open, he was horrified. Preston Teagarden had you locked in a tight embrace, his hands running over your breasts. The two of you were standing in the middle of the aisle, right in the center of church. You had a furious look on your face, “I swear to God you touch me like that again and I’ll cut your damn dick off!” You gripped desperately at his hand that was groping you, trying to pry it away but to no avail. 

The sound of the door swinging open was enough to draw both yours and Teagarden’s attention. “Get your fuckin’ hands off her!” Arvin wasted no time running into the conflict. Teagarden dropped you and your knees buckled from the unexpected action, landing you on the ground. 

He put his hands up in surrender, “Hey, now, let’s talk about this like real men.” 

Arvin threw one solid swing to his chin, sending his head flying sideways, “You ain’t no real man. Real men don’t gotta go around gropin’ girls to get off, you sick fuck!” Another punch landed on his opposite cheek and it sent Teagarden to the ground. 

You scurried away from him and stood up just ahead of Arvin. Preston cowered, hiding his face, “Please, please, have mercy.” His pleading eyes went from Arvin to you and he lingered on your gaze, knowing that he had a better chance with the mercy approach with you. 

He found none. Even with his blood smeared face, his teeth stained crimson, and the way his body shook, you just scowled down at him, “I’m gonna tell e’ryone in this town what a disgustin’ man you are. You think you can get away with this, you’re dead wrong.” You sent a swift kick straight to his stomach, making him curl into the fetal position with a loud groan of pain. 

But then he laughed. He actually laughed. 

“What’s so damn funny?” You and Arvin both spat in unison, blood boiling. 

Preston laid his head back and closed his eyes, an almost serene look of confidence contrasting the blood that covered him and the swelling of his lip, “Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to me. You came to visit the church after hours under the guise of helping me with a fundraiser. But then you used your womanly charms to try and seduce me, a married man of God.” 

“That ain’t what happened!” Arvin yelled angrily, fists clenched by his side. 

When the words left the preacher’s mouth though, your heart dropped. You knew the truth, Arvin knew the truth, the reverend knew the truth. But none of that mattered if the Reverend told everyone his concocted story because he was a man of God. Why would he lie? 

A sadistic smile spread across his face, “It is if I say it is. Ain’t nobody gonna believe two teenagers over a preacher.” 

“He’s right.” Your voice faltered as you spoke, nearly coming out as a shattered whisper. When Arvin looked over at you, your face had paled and you looked utterly broken. 

It wasn’t so much that the assault itself was enough to break you, though, of course, it had definitely left you with the lingering ghosts of his filthy hands on your body. It was the fact that you knew he’d get away with it, that no matter what you or Arvin said, the town would believe Teagarden. 

Arvin swallowed hard, trying to see through the blinding rage. As a boy, he never truly understood the bias that women faced when they were victims of sexual assault- how it was perceived as their faults in towns like this. It had never happened to anyone he knew so he never had much reason to think about it. Now, you were forced to live with knowing that you assailant was going to keep his position as a fucking preacher in town and that you couldn’t do anything about it. 

Arvin wouldn’t let it stand. 

He stomped forward yet again and knelt over Teagarden, sending blow after blow into his face. Bone crunched bone with a disgusting crack with every hit and you flinched every time. 

Your eyes were wide with terror. Arvin’s violent past with Gene Dinwoodie and his boys was not unknown to you. You were the first person he’d gone to after the attack, in fact, and you’d actually supported him for the most part, only wishing that maybe he didn’t send them all to the hospital and only roughed them up a bit. Actually watching him beat someone to the brink of death though was something else entirely. 

“Stop!” The word left your mouth before you even knew you’d thought it. 

Arvin stopped and looked over his shoulder at you in surprise. He was doing this for you after all. 

“Don’t kill ‘im. Please.” You begged, your voice heavy.

“What?” Arvin wasn’t actually sure what he’d intended on doing to the preacher. Sure, he wanted to kill him. That horrified, angry look in your eye as he touched you made a fire burn in him so bright, he didn’t know if it could be put out. But Arvin had never wanted to be a killer. He only wanted to prove a point and make sure that the message stuck. Now that he thought about it, though, he would have to finish the job or the preacher would tell him he’d attacked him. 

Your eyes were almost brimming with tears, though none fell. This whole evening had been too much. First the assault and now watching the love of your life throw his good conscience away for you. You wanted the preacher to pay as much as he did but this just didn’t feel right. 

“P-please… I don’t want you takin’ the fall for none o’ this. He don’t deserve to die but I think a good beatin’ will give him some time to reevaluate ‘imself.” You’d walked towards Arvin and placed a warm hand on his shoulder. 

Arvin couldn’t fathom why you’d be protecting this monster. The question was clear all over his face. Why? 

“I’m not asking you to stop for him. I’m asking you to stop for you. I don’t want you to have blood on your hands for me. Not for this.” His heart broke seeing you look the way you did, your eyes shining with tears, and your hand a little shaky. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you more. 

Arvin grabbed the preacher off the ground by the collar and pulled him up almost a foot, leaning down to get in his disfigured face, “If I ever hear that you went near Y/N or any other girl again, I will find you and kill you. If you so much as look at her again, I will kill you. And if you tell anyone what happened here tonight, I will fucking kill you. You understand? Consider it that mercy you kept beggin’ for.” 

He dropped the preacher gracelessly with a thud and wrapped an arm comfortingly around you. For a moment, he was scared that you’d flinch away. You’d never seen him when he let his anger get the best of him and he preferred to keep it that way. He didn’t want you to think that he was a violent man because he really wasn’t. Arvin just cared for a special few so much that he’d do anything for them. He’d never hurt someone he loved though and needed you to know that. 

Thankfully, you leaned into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder as he walked you back to his car, leaving the preacher an unconscious mess in the middle of the church. When you exited the building, night had fallen upon Coal Creek, casting a fitting darkness over the town. 

“Thank you.” You said simply and quietly, looking over at Arvin sincerely on the drive home. 

“For what?” 

“For everything. Just bein’ who you are.” You paused with a heavy sigh, “But promise me something?” 

Arvin looked over at you, taking his eyes off the road for just a second to show you he was listening. 

“Promise me you won’t go gettin’ yourself in trouble for me.” 

He shook his head, “He deserved-” 

“I know what he deserved,” You interrupted, “And I am so grateful that you stepped in to help. But I don’t want you gettin’ yourself thrown in jail or killed for me.” 

There was short silence before Arvin looked over with the most sincere look you think he’d ever given you, “I can’t promise that. ‘M sorry, Y/N, but if I ever see you in danger, I’m gonna do what I need to do.” 

It wasn’t the response you’d been hoping for but this boy had the ability to make you feel more loved than anyone else you knew. You only wished he understood that you only wanted what was best for him, just like he did for you. “I love you, Arvin.” You admitted, sliding across the seat to lay your head against his shoulder while he drove. 

“I love you too.” 

#arvin #Arvin Russell #arvin rus #arvin russel imagines #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel x you #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel imagine #tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tdatt #tdatt fics #tdatt imagine

[satorinnie]

love and war

pairing; gojo satoru x f!reader

genre; angst

wc; 3,6k

warnings; jjk manga spoilers

notes; i think its obvious the ending is a bit rushed but i still tried my best :/ got the motivation to write the ending but then lost it again...but i wanted to post it today so here it goes. would love to hear feedback on it!

it wasn’t meant to play out like this. no, he wasn’t meant to find out about it, not like this at least.

that was the last thing you ever wanted.

everything was going so fine, maybe too fine, but still, nonetheless, things were perfect between the two of you just this morning. how did it come to this?

he was looking at you, blindfold off, crescent blue eyes reflecting each emotion he held so so openly. the only times you saw him this vulnerable was when the two of you had talked about his past, his regrets, and what if’s. his eyes were full of adoration at that time, looking at you like you were a pure blessing from the heavens, an angel sent to save him from his drowning thoughts, to let him be himself.

but now, now they were looking at you with so much hurt, anger, regret, and oh so heartbroken.

you had seen, witnessed, first-hand what the receiving end of gojo’s furious gaze ended with. it wasn’t pleasant, that’s for sure, and you had sworn to yourself you would never be on the receiving end of it.

oh, how the tables have turned.

it was understandable why he was so mad; god knows you would be too. because you, who had delicately pieced back his broken heart and trust after the events of getou, had now broken it, by your very own hands at that.

how did it all come to this? you had no idea. you knew starting a relationship with him was wrong and off-limits from the very beginning, but the temptation had surpassed your rationality just like eve when she bit the apple. you never thought you’d fall this deep down the hole, so deep that you forgot–no, ignored your true mission.

to monitor gojo satoru and sukuna’s vessel and kill them when you got the order.

it was last year when the head sorcerers in england had given you this mission. if gojo was unbeatable and unrivaled in japan, you were the same in england. perhaps your curse technique wasn’t as strong as his, but it was versatile and a very reliable technique.

after itardori yuuji became the only sukuna’s vessel, japan wasn’t the only country sour about the thought of it; in fact, it had caused a panic in europe as well. and as england was the country that ruled the jujutsu world in europe, you were assigned with monitoring the vessel and the owner of the six eyes. they wanted their eyes and hands on the boy with the infinity.

but you befriending everyone there, joking with the curse himself, and becoming lovers with the one and only gojo satoru was definitely not how you planned for things to go. it spelled trouble from the beginning, getting close to the shaman who had an ego and power rivaling the gods. but, unfortunately, you were now too deep to just leave without explaining everything to him, and even hoping for a chance that he’d forgive the lies you fed him throughout your times together was a little farfetched.

how could you make him believe that everything you said was genuine, and out of true love? the answer was you couldn’t because the betrayal in his eyes was enough for you to gulp down those hopes, taking a deep breath to prepare for the argument that was about to come. “look–satoru, please let me explain and don’t jump to conclusions.” you lifted your hands in front of you as an act to calm him down, walking closer to him with a futile attempt to hold his hands.

“explain what?” a laugh escaped his throat, one mixed with desperation and madness, “that everything between us was a lie? a mission for you? how do you plan on slithering your way out of this now, huh?” his voice rising with each word he was spitting out of his mouth.

you were desperately trying to keep up the expression that you had everything together, when in fact, you didn’t at all. your hands were starting to shake because you were scared of losing the man in front of you whom you were utterly in love with. the boy with the infinity held your heart in his palms, and he had no idea about it. “nothing was a lie, alright! i know how that document looked, and i can’t lie and tell you that isn’t true, but my love for you is–”

“keep those fucking lies to yourself y/n–you know, everyone knows already. megumi, yuuji, maki, even shoko–”

“stop cutting me, gojo! i know it might be unforgivable, but you have to believe me when i say i forgot about the mission. i love you, okay? i am undeniably and utterly in love with you, and that’s why i’ve been ignoring every call, every message they’ve been sending me about the task because i can’t do it!” you were screaming now, hands in the air, trying to voice out every single emotion you were feeling in that moment.

“well, it’s too bad that i don’t love you anymore! you know, i’ve known about this for a few weeks now and was hoping you’d open up to me about it, but–”

you froze at his last sentence.

“–you what? so you’re telling me that everything that happened in between us during those weeks was an act? all fake? you were just waiting for me to open up so you could what, break my heart in a more grand way?” now you had to give it to him, not only was he secretly smart, he was also a great actor who had you fooled for weeks now. the room was silent after your words, both your eyes staring deep into each other; you, waiting for his answer.

and you watched as he opened and closed his mouth, not sure how to answer your question. but you knew what that meant; with his hesitance, you had found your answer. breaking your eye contact, you looked down at the floors of the home you used to share; you could hear your heart shattering into millions of pieces with just the sound of his breathing.

“alright,” you whispered into the air. running your hand over your face, you leaned back against the kitchen counter. “so how will this go? are you going to let me go or are we gonna have a full-on fight right now? or is everyone already waiting outside the door to capture me?” you were doing your best to avoid eye contact, it was already too heard keeping your tears from falling, and you knew one more look at the eyes you loved so much would break you.

there was silence for a few minutes, but in your eyes, a few minutes was an eternity long. the fact that he was debating the question you left was heartbreaking already. but you weren’t afraid to fight; you had come to japan prepared for the worst-case scenario, and getting to know satoru up close, you believed you had a fair chance at winning.

“–im giving you twenty-four hours to leave this country. if you don’t–you know what’s to happen.” this had you lifting your head in the speed of lightning, eyes wide mouth agape, you could only watch as gojo satoru left your shared house without sparing you a single glance.

he was oblivious to how he carried your heart out the door when he left you stranded in the middle of the kitchen.

it was an hour after your discussion, and you were still in the same spot he left you. still standing, still too paralyzed to move. the reality of things being over was just starting to weigh on you, but you knew you had to start packing because not only gojo; but england was going to be after you too.

you failed the mission. and you didn’t plan on returning back.

war is a slippery slope. what would you do? becomes what will you do? becomes what have you done?

looking around the now-empty home, you built with gojo; tears started falling from your hallow eyes. so many memories resurfaced in one moment; it was overwhelming. the day your first saw him when he was trying to crack a joke at nanami to get him to smile. or the time he first asked you out admitting he had found you a force to be reckoned with and how you had managed to bewitch him. the day you accepted, the day he made you see stars behind your eyes from pure bliss. the day he proposed living together. the day you danced around the living room with his obnoxious music playing at the back, head laid against his chest humming to the melodies. how you felt like a family when you saw him and the students act so close–

how long has it been? how long have you been pushing your actual task behind the lies and excuses you fed yourself. was that person you? the ever so stone-hearted y/n breaking her facade for the boy with infinity.

my god, my god, whose performance am i watching? how many people am i? who am i? what is this space between myself and myself?

it was all getting too much. when had you fallen down the hole to never leave again? should you be grateful, or should you curse the fact that despite all misfortune, you can still feel love and unearthly love but still for earthly objects?

finally getting a grip on yourself, your feet moved down the hall to your shared bedroom, and without wasting a glance at his side, you quickly started to pack your stuff to leave japan.

gojo wasn’t doing well himself. he thought he had finally found true happiness after all the loss he had to go through, and it all turned out to be nothing but an act built on lies. after he left your shared home, he had wandered around in the streets with no destination in mind and the cold chilly air blowing past him. his blindfold was still off, the moon making his crystal blue eyes shine even more, still with unshed tears at the brink of it—a dam about to break.

he knew he lied to you when he told you he didn’t love you anymore and only hoped the years of the facade he had to keep up was enough to fool you into believing his words when in fact, it was the very opposite. he loved you so much–so much that it broke him when he read the document that was mailed to you weeks ago. you and him were an inseparable duo–the strongest and his tamer. the boy with the infinity and the girl who held him down with gravity.

upon wandering the streets for god knows how many hours, he found himself in front of a riverbank. the light of the moon was radiating, creating a painting of a million stories for the broken boy. but while being so engrossed with the view in front of him, he had failed to feel someone creeping up behind him; with his infinity down, nanami was able to lend a hand on his shoulder. “i’m assuming you talked with her.” he broke the silence.

his silenced gaze worried his friend; they promised to keep it between themselves. while nanami believed letting the kids know would be the better choice, gojo was adamant about keeping your good image in front of them. he knew how much they adored you, and he would hate to be the one to break it to them. “i did.”

“and what choice did you go with?”

“i gave her a full day to leave, and if otherwise–” he gulped down the lump forming in his throat, “–if otherwise, i told her i would fight her.” tears now slowly starting to trail down his porcelain skin, an odd view to see for his foes.

“you did the right thing.” nanami tried his best to console him in a way. this was a new image for him; he never saw gojo break down like this; the last time he saw his best friend (he would never admit that to his face, though) like this was when he had to kill getou, even then he had managed to keep up the aloof facade. but he knew his feeling for you ran much, much deeper than that. he has witnessed what your companionship had done to him. it was what pieced him back, and now what broke him.

it’s been years since you left, but you were back now. back in japan after two years of staying away, traveling to many different countries, on the runaway from the higher-ups in england. you would’ve preferred your return to be on good news and such, but unfortunately, it was the opposite. your friends back in england had informed you about how they planned on ending gojo’s life once in for all today with a team of experienced sorcerers, and although you wanted to keep away from trouble as much you could, you couldn’t let the man you love die.

with your hood covering your face, you walked down the streets of shibuya, the once war zone that led to many disastrous events in the past years under your feet. you heard about everything; the culling game and the capture of gojo satoru, thank god those were all in the past now, and everyone was well–except nanami, and the new had broken you. just like gojo and the students, he also had a special place in your heart, his calm attitude always grounding you. you don’t think his last thoughts of you were good–considering what gojo had told you the night you left, but still, his death was unexpected news to you.

you didn’t know how you were going to approach the topic; there was a big chance they’d attack you the second you entered their line of vision, not allowing you to voice out the news–but it was worth the try nonetheless. taking your hood down, you entered a cafe; the need for caffeine after the long flight back here was strong, the anxiousness and stress not allowing you to sleep. what you didn’t expect was seeing the three first years–now third years–you loved so much sitting in the cafe chatting idly, not noticing you. you wanted to keep it that way, but on your way out, a feminine voice called out your name. “y/n sensei? is that you?”

your steps halted, freezing in your stop. the confrontation was inevitable now, causing a stir in a crowded place was the last thing you wanted so you turned around to see nobara staring at you with wide eyes, megumi and itadori behind shocked just as her. what you didn’t expect was her running straight at your engulfing you with wide arms; a big grin plastered on her face. “where were you! you disappeared out of nowhere, and gojo sensei wouldn’t tell us anything! we were really worried; you left me alone with these two idiots–you know you’re the only one who understands my pain–”

“–i’m sorry, i had to go on an abroad mission, and it took too long. it’s good to be back.” you hugged her back tightly, still trying to process the new information she threw at you. gojo had lied, and that made you question everything you believed in. had he also lied about his love for you back then? but that was for later–for now, you wanted to cherish this news and spend time with your favorite students, learn about their well-being and their stories.

“come on, let’s sit shall we? we got lots to catch up on.”

it was now midnight, and you were waiting somewhere in the middle of the forest for your dreaded meeting with gojo. you managed to convince the kids into telling gojo to meet you here without actually letting him know it was you. they were excited, to say the least, talking about how you and he were the epitomai of soulmates, two pieces meant to find each other, filling up the gaping hole you both had. you were very nervous, fidgeting in your spot, hiding behind the tree waiting for him to arrive, and when you heard footsteps nearing you–you knew this was it, heart pounding like crazy.

walking out of your hiding spot, you slowly made your way over to him, hands stiff at your sides anticipating his reaction. “gojo.” he looked at you, blindfold on this time. still, you could see his displeasure from how his body stiffened at your voice, looking at you with a straight face. “what’re you doing here? i thought i told you to leave.” you sighed, walking closer to him, “i know, and i am going to leave again, but before that, i need to tell you something–” you were cut off by the powerful shake of the ground, throwing you off balance resulting in you falling to the ground.

behind you were your old friends from england, standing tall and mighty together–a force to be reckoned with; you were once one of them, but alas, that was the past. “thanks you leading us straight to him y/n.” elizabeth smirked looking at your fallen state, “you made things a whole lot easier for us.” she continued. looking back at gojo, you were surprised to see his hands locked in some type of chain. how did they manage to get past his infinity–unless he didn’t have it on in the first place. did let his guard down once he saw you? why would he do that?

“no, no, no– leave him alone, elizabeth! i swear to god i’ll rain hell upon all of you!” you stood up desperately trying to leave the makeshift cage your friend had put you in when a sudden idea came to you. it was risky, but it would save him, and that–that was all you needed, your purpose of coming here in the first place.

“lover boy is being quite over there. what is it? cat got your tongue?” she was taunting you and definitely enjoying it too. walking closer to you, she neared your face while the others were beside gojo, “you’re both fools believing you guys could be together in the first place, that’s how it works–” she was cut off by the stomp of your foot on the ground lifting a piece of rock–the one gojo was on, up to the air, away from your ex-friends. if you couldn’t save yourself, you could at least save him; apologize for your past mistakes.

from where you were, you couldn’t do much, but you used all your might to send rock flying in the air towards them meanwhile keeping gojo away from them. your cursed technique was called upon the tainted sorrow, the ability to manipulate gravity, and it was unrivaled in europe. you trained too much to reach where you were, the strongest just like gojo, but even the strong can fall, and all it takes is the blink of an eye.

you were on the ground again, but this time blood pouring from your insides, a deadly piercing through your abdomen. while you were so engrossed with trying to keep gojo safe, you hadn’t realized he was already off the piece of rock fighting the rest. and he had made the mistake of underestimating them, resulting in the struggle. but that distraction was enough for elizabeth to pierce the cursed knife through you.

one second you were on the ground; the next, you were in someone’s arms. looking up, you were met with the crystal blue eyes you had grown to love staring right back at yours. this reminded you of the moments where you used to lay on his chest, hands tangled in his snow-white hair, his hands keeping you tight against him, eyes staring at each other with nothing but love. how unfortunate things weren’t that way now. you bleeding onto his hands which hopelessly applied pressure to your wound in hopes of saving you, his blindfold now off, tears slowly caressing his face. it was a sight for the eyes. you lifted your hand up to cup his cheek, imprinting a red hand mark right where you touched him, “satoru–”

“save your breath, i called for shoko; she’ll be here any minute, and we can save you–” you silenced him with your thumb on his lips, “satoru, this was inevitable, even if you save me now, they’ll still be after me. it’ll be a never-ending cycle.”

“no, i can keep you safe, y/n. remember? it’s us against the world, baby. always has been and always will be.” he kissed your forehead, still keeping you close. his eyes were shut tight; he could feel your consciousness slipping away and knew he couldn’t save you. but can’t a man hope? and as you uttered your last words, body temperature turning cold, breathing stopping, he knew right then and there this was where he lost it all. this was how he lost the light of his world, in his own hands, between his arms.

“for what it’s worth, i love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard.” and he knew those words would haunt him for an eternity. follow him wherever he went. the ghost of you will always be with him, never leaving. you will hold him down by gravity with just your soul. yet he still wanted to curse the gods for taking you away from him, his fresh breath of air, his anchor.

your love was strong, but the timing was wrong, and love decided that you both didn’t belong.

#jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst

[anythingwriter]

Screams in the Night

Ada Thorne x Platonic!reader

Warnings: language, dickhead husband beats on his wife (not explicitly)

Word Count: 1,332

Requested by: @xoxo-deadshakira

Summary: Ada loves the new house Tommy bought her and Karl, but she can’t help but hear her neighbors screams in the night.

a/n: sorry it took so long darling. Hope you like it!❤️

Also this wasn’t proof read, if there’s mistakes let me know!🥰

*******************************************************

Ada learned to love the house Tommy had bought her. Yes, it was unnecessarily large for just her and Karl, but it offered so much. There was room for Karl to run and play, and Ada could actually invite friends over and not be cramped. Even her neighbors seemed nice.

The house to her right was a lovely family, at least they looked like it. William and y/n Johnson had two children, both boys. One was Karl’s age, Billy, and the other was just shy of five months. The adorable baby was Henry. Ada had tried to get a playdate for Karl and y/n always agreed, but William would interrupt last minute and said they had plans that day. Ada just shrugged it off, but now it was getting suspicious.

They seemed to be so happy and sweet, but it was getting harder and harder for Ada to ignore the screams in the night. She knew whatever was going on behind closed doors was nothing pretty.

Y/n would always come outside to water her garden or check their mail, and each time she had a different bruise that was poorly hidden. When Ada questioned her about it she just declared she was clumsy.

*******************

It was late at night when Ada heard a loud knock against her door. Knowing of Tommy’s enemies and considering the time she grabbed her small revolver from her purse and slowly crept towards the door. Holding her gun up, she forced the door open and held the gun to the intruder's face, but was only met with Tommy casually smoking a cigarette. Ada rolled her eyes and sighed, carelessly swinging her arms down to her side.

“Christ Tommy, do you even know what time it is? I could’ve shot you!”

Tommy just walked past her and poured himself a drink and plopped down on her couch.

Ada again rolled her eyes and shut the door before making her way over to Tommy, “Sure make yourself at home, s’not like you don’t pay for it.”

Tommy smirked up at his sister before putting his cigarette out. “How you been Ada? We all miss our lovely sister around.”

“Sure, act like you guys miss me, yeah. What’re you here for Tommy? You don’t just come to say hello.” She sat across from him and poured herself a drink, swallowing it all in one go. Tommy sighed, setting his drink down and leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, he went to speak when a loud scream from next door interrupted.

Ada stiffed in her spot, and Tommy raised a brow in her direction. It faded quite fast, but there was no doubt in Tommy’s mind that he heard what he heard.

He continued to stare at Ada, waiting for her to explain. Ada just sighed and squeezed her eyes shut, bringing her hand to pinch her nose.

“My neighbors, yeah, are a really sweet family. A nice husband and wife with two young boys. But almost every night I’ll hear screams, sometimes just once sometimes all night. I never know why, and I never ask. I’m too afraid to Tommy.”

Tommy’s brows furrowed, afraid? Why would she be afraid?

“Why are you afraid Ada? What’s going on over there, eh?”

She stood up and slammed her new drink on the table, “I don’t know Thomas! Bu-but the wife, her names y/n, always has new bruises everyday Tommy. And when I ask, she shuts down and says she’s clumsy.” She began to pace around the room, arms crossed with one leaning on the other, holding her head in her hand.

Tommy knew what she was referring to. He remembered when they were young and their neighbor down the street had the same thing happening to her, but then one day she was found dead, from strangulation. Her husband was never found.

“Ada..” he talked slow, not wanting to panic her even more, “ remember what happened to Mrs.Russo down the street, eh? Do you..” he gulped, no woman deserves this, “do you think that’s happening to her?”

Ada froze, not wanting to accept that her brother was probably right. She began to shake her head and stepped towards him, but stopped when another scream pierced the nights air.

She fell to the floor and began to cry, she should’ve helped this poor woman so long ago. She should’ve called her brothers, even Polly. It was a strong policy in the family that no man was to ever touch a woman, and they strongly lived by it.

Tommy hopped up from his seat and embraced Ada, rubbing circles all over her back. He whispered in her ear, “We should go help, yeah? You said they have kids? We need to help them Ada.” “C‘mon, up you go.” He pulled her up by her arms and helped her out the house. She didn’t resist, knowing he was right.

It took only moments to reach the Johnson's door, Ada took a deep breath, and so did Tommy. He drawled his gun and hid it behind his back before knocking, waiting for someone to answer. When the door slowly began to open, Ada took a step back letting her brother take the lead, not wanting to get in the way.

The siblings' hearts dropped when a terrified Billy opened the door with tears running down his face. Ada dropped to her knees, “Billy?! Sweetheart are you okay? Where’s your mum and brother?!”

He only began to cry harder, tears steadily spilling from his e/c eyes. All he could do was point up the stairs and Ada embraced him, telling Tommy to go. He didn’t hesitate before running towards the direction Billy pointed. He ran up the stairs and heard grunting and thrashing like someone was being murdered.

Following the noises, Tommy crept as softly as he could until he got to the last door at the end of the hall. He could hear crying from an infant, but nothing was louder than the grunts of pain and struggle.

Raising his gun in the air, Tommy kicked the door in with all his strength. There on the floor was y/n Johnson, thrashing with all her strength, turning blue with her husband's hands around her neck.

Her husband didn’t even have time to react, before he could even lift his head Tommy had fired the gun. The bullet effortlessly flew between his eyes.

Nobody reacted, Tommy just stood there and y/n laid there while her husband‘s body bled out on her. Neither one of them moved until they heard the screams coming from little Henry’s crib. Tommy ran over to the woman and helped her push the dead man’s body off of her. Y/n got up and ran to her babies crib, hugging him close to her body. Tears were running down both of their faces as y/n rocked him back and forth, repeating over and over “You’re okay, mamas got you.”

Tommy didn’t know what to do, he stood there and watched the scene unfold before him, his heart swelling knowing that for once, he did something good.

He backed away from the door when he heard small footsteps running up the stairs, Billy bursting in the room and ran to his mum’s legs as she crouched and hugged him close. Ada followed in shortly after and hugged Tommy to her side, smiling at the sight in front of her.

Stroking both of her boys' heads, y/n turned towards the Shelbys and whispered thank you over and over. Ada smiled in content, knowing there would be no more screams in the night.

*******************************************************

Ahhh I’m sorry this is so bad!!

Have a great day sugars!!❤️❤️

@shadowfoxey @nothingleftthaticando @elenavampire21

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #ada thorne x reader #ada thorne #peaky blinders x y/n

[xpeachesncream]

perfectly wrong | one

summary: there were rules that had to be followed: no one could know about you two, there was no ‘getting to know each other,’ and there was absolutely no emotional attachment allowed. if this could be done, there should be no complications. but somehow, the rules always get bended.

pairing: reader x fuckboy!kth

genre: college au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 2301

chapter warnings: cussing, mature language, very slight angst, some hints of jealousy, alcohol consumption

notes: pls remember that this is set a few months after you and tae have been going at it, so it will seem like things are happening a bit fast. i’m not trying to prolong this series. also most importantly, i tend to usually write shorter chapters > shorter, but more chapters published. enjoy!

> series masterlist <

Jungkook decided he was going to see if he could jump over your couch and land perfectly in a seated position.

"Wait, wait, wait. Absolute silence everybody." He says as he's stretched over, trying to estimate the timing and height of his jump. He had always been super athletic and competitive since you two were small, so there was really no changing his mind on this. He always had to prove something, even if that meant creating his own competition of jumping over the couch.

"It's just me and you." You watched him from the kitchen, making sure the pizza in the oven was baking properly.

"I have an audience, okay? Don't be rude, Y/N." He says as he points over to the fake audience clapping and laughing during a 'Friends' episode.

"Whatever, as long as you don't go breaking my shit, Jeon Jungkook." He was 22, but his mentality was 8. That was for damn sure.

"Siiiiiiilence." He says at a whisper, his eyes shut as he puts a finger to his mouth. He lets out a huff and a puff before he gets the courage to throw himself over the couch and land a perfect landing. "And once again, he sticks the landing!" He stands up with his hands up in the air.

"You're annoying." You laughed, getting paper plates ready for the pizza that was about to be done because you were in no mood to do any dishes tonight.

"Thank you! I'll be here again tomorrow, same time." He calls out to his fake audience.

"No the hell you're not."

"Ouch, nevermind. Someone apparently doesn't want me here." You laugh at how dramatic he is. At this point, you just let him be because that was something you always loved about your bestfriend. He embraced the kid in him and always brought good times. You had similarities, but you also had some major differences. You liked being in your comfort zone & you were labeled the innocent nerd amongst your friends. You just like to consider yourself simple, though. A 'take it day by day' kind of person. Kookie was fun, adventurous and childish at times. He was also shy, but loud at the same time? An introverted extrovert, you could say.

But you loved each other nonetheless, that's why you've clicked so well since you were young. You taught each other things & grew together.

"Here, fool." You placed the pizza in front of him with the paper plates.

"Set it up, I'll grab us the drinks. You want anything in particular?"

"That bottle of Stella Rosa, please." JK knew you loved that Stella Rosa, so he happily grabs the bottle and two wine glasses. He plops back next to you on the couch, pouring your glasses and grabbing a heaping serving of 4 slices of pizza.

You both decided you want a good laugh, so you throw on Kevin Hart's newest installment: Zero Fucks Given. It isn't long before you both are rolling on the floor, almost gasping for air at how much you're laughing at Kevin Hart's stand up. The pizza is gone, the wine is gone, and you're still feeling pretty tipsy. The whole thing sounds nice, until your head starts to wonder what Taehyung is doing and if he'll text you to come over tonight. You know he probably already has plans with another chick though, and that hits you.

Curse this fucking alcohol.

Let's get this straight - the only time you 'talk' is when he's trying to fuck.

And yes bitch, you let him do this to you. You're out that door before you can even fully slip your shoes on. Dick is just that good. It's something about Taehyung that makes you addicted. The way he gives you a stupid ass smirk when he opens his door, the way he touches your skin and gently lays his shit on you until you both become really invested in the moment. So invested that shit hits the roof. It gets messy. It gets rough. It becomes unspeakable.

You aren't friends. No one knows about you two, or that you even know the other exists. You don't know shit about each other. The only thing you know is that he's fucking other girls. He has a whole roster, you'd imagine - a starting five, at least.

He doesn't care about you, and for the most part, you don't either. At least, that's what you like to portray because it's been some months now since this whole thing started and you can't help but feel some kind of emotional tie to him. You're leaving your house between 12-2am in the morning and sleeping in his bed until 6-7am. It's a routine; a routine you've become used to. You skip out on some late night kick-its with your friends cause you anticipate a text to come through from him.

But, he doesn't care. You aren't the only female slipping into those sheets, and boy does it fucking make it hard to swallow. Reality hits hard when you think about it and you feel this huge pit in your stomach. You try to be different, you try to stand out one way or another. But it doesn't work that way. You knew what this entailed going into it, so it makes zero sense as to why you're hurting and getting jealous from time to time.

You know it still doesn't matter to him.

He's only fucking you over cause you let him. You know damn well you're not gonna change and let this go, though. You love thrill of it too much. It's the most thrill your life has had. You're not perfect and you're only human. You make mistakes, but this one definitely puts the cherry on top. Because not only do you refuse to learn, but you let it repeat itself over and over again.

"Aishhhh, my stomach hurts from laughing too much." Jungkook laid his head back and patted his belly. "But that was good though. I needed that."

"Yeah it was. Thanks for coming by to watch that with me, Kook." He tilts his head over to look at you and smiles.

"Sure thing." He checks his phone and sits up. "Yoongi is blowing up the group chat." You check your phone to see multiple unread messages from none other than Min Yoongi himself.

[yoongi] 10:37pm: aye

[yoongi] 10:45pm: all of a sudden, everyone is ghost in this group chat?! you all had a lot to say not too long ago.

[yoongi] 10:52pm: even though you guys are fake as fuck, does anyone wanna come with me to the bars tonight? meet at my place so we can head out.

You and Jungkook laughed at how butthurt Yoongi was in the groupchat. Yoongi definitely was the most serious and blunt one in your group, but he still liked to party and have a good time. It was just how he was. Hoseok was always full of energy and probably the most extroverted one out of all 4 of you. He was never shy. You and Jungkook met Yoongi and Hoseok your first year in college and became inseparable ever since. You all just click with your different attributes.

[jungkook] 10:53pm: lmaoooooooo

[yoongi] 10:53pm: fuck you dude lol

[jungkook] 10:54pm: i'll come through in a sec, i'm at y/n's right now. not sure if she's gonna come though?

[y/n] 10:55pm: i'll pass, i'm tired and wined out.

[hoseok] 10:55pm: ahahahah yoongi shut up, blowing up my phone for no reason. i'm passing on tonight too. im tired from working that overtime *cries*

[yoongi] 10:56pm: you both are boring. i'm especially offended at how i didn't get an invite to your little powwow, y/n. and now you don't wanna hang out?

[hoseok] 10:57pm: she mentioned she was going to watch kevin hart's thing yesterday and offered us to swing by if we wanted to though....... selective hearing, maybe?

[y/n] 10:58pm: ^ okayyyyy and that's on period! thank you hobi <3

[hoseok] 10:59pm: anything for the baby

[yoongi] 10:59pm: lmao you're a brat, y/n. whatever, i'm still hurt by you both! kook, hurry on over so we can drink

"Fuck I regret this, I'm gonna die." Jungkook laughed as he stood up and stretched. He quickly helped you clean up before he figured it was time to go or else Yoongi would have a fit.

"I feel like it has to do with that one girl he's been talking to on and off."

"Perhaps." Jungkook shrugged before putting on his shoes. "We shall see." he sighs before giving you a tight hug. "You sure you don't wanna come out?"

"Nope."

"You don't even have plans tonight."

"Yes I do."

"Doing what?"

"Laying in bed." Jungkook snorted as you shook your head and shrugged. What else did he think you were trying to do? He should know you by now, at the very least.

"Alright, I'm not even going to argue. I'm off."

"Be safe, have fun, text me if you both need anything, okay?" He nods as he shuts the door, leaving you to your lonesome. You swirled the teeny tiny drop of wine leftover in your glass around before picking up your phone.

No new texts. Well, let's be specific: no new texts from taehyung.

You did forget to respond to your oldest cousin though, when he was just trying to check up on you.

[seokjin] 8:35pm: pssst y/n

[seokjin] 8:35pm: psssssssssst

[seokjin] 8:35pm: oyyyyyyyyyy

He was damn near 30 years old and hated talking on the phone so much that he decides to blow up your phone this way. But, he was the cousin you loved dearly and you had a very tight, sibling-like relationship with him. He was like the older brother you've always wanted. He watched you grow, protected you, kept you safe, supported you and cheered you on - especially when your family talked so much shit about how you and him weren't gonna get anywhere with your goals. You know, the fucking stupid ol' saying of 'chasing your passion isn't going to bring you money & wealth.' Your family was all about the titles and money, but Jin was passionate about cooking and wanted to open his own cafe. You, on the other hand, wanted to pursue your art. Jin was the biggest role model for you because he was the first to defy your family's wants and wishes. He was the black sheep of the family with a huge 'I don't give a fuck' mentality and he taught you that along the way.

Don't ever be afraid to do what you're passionate about. Fuck 'em.

[y/n] 11:13pm: hi sorry, jungkook was over and we were watching kevin hart's new thing on netflix over some wine and pizza.

[seokjin] 11:15pm: that sounds fun! sorry, i just wanted to check on you but i see you're doing okay lol

[y/n] 11:16pm: i am. :) i'll hang out with you tomorrow

[seokjin] 11:16pm: how sweet, my freeloading baby cousin is coming by

[y/n] 11:17pm: hahahah shut up! although you're not wrong, i am going to steal some food. but most importantly, i do want to hang out and see my bestest oppa <3

[seokjin] 11:18pm: awww y/n, you're so full of shit <3

[seokjin] 11:18pm: go to bed

[y/n] 11:19pm: haha love you tooooo

And so, that's what you did. You got yourself all ready for bed, believing you wouldn't be leaving your house tonight. You pampered yourself, put on a face mask and got yourself all lathered up in lotion just to lay down. You're in Jungkook's shirt that he left behind (and never looked for, so technically it's yours now) when the guys had stayed the night and some Vicky Secret panties.

You're scrolling through your Instagram feed, seeing Jungkook's newly posted story with him and Yoongi already at the bars, acting a damn fool. You laughed at the video he took of Yoongi trying to dance in a tight, awkward space on the crowded dance floor even though he was never the best at dancing. It lowkey made you wish you went out with them so you wouldn't be stuck here thinking about your feelings and how lonely these hours get.

And then you see Jimin's story from an hour ago. He knew you were friends with Yoongi, and although Yoongi wasn't fond of their group too much, he was still an avid party-goer and mingled with people there. You've only spoken to Jimin once because you had to work with him in the same group on a class assignment. You tried to keep it that way though because he was Taehyung's bestfriend. They went everywhere together, did everything together. He, too, was very popular among the ladies and across campus. I guess it was just their thing.

You assume they were at a party cause Jimin quickly flashes the camera at Taehyung, who's in front of him getting a lapdance from some chick. Jimin quickly turns the camera back to his face as he's laughing uncontrollably then abruptly cuts it off.

Great.

She's forsure going home with him tonight.

You set your phone down on the night stand and put on a show on your laptop to help you fall asleep.

Just as you're about to get some shut eye, your phone vibrates. You let it slip at first because you thought it could be one of the guys playing around, but it vibrates again, signaling another text coming through. You pick up your phone just to make sure Yoongi and Jungkook aren't in any trouble and need you to bail their asses out.

[taehyung] 12:17am: hey

[taehyung] 12:20am: come over.

You scoff at how he assumes you're still up and that you'd be coming over. You hated that. He knew he just had your ass.

track two: hit different - sza & ty dolla $ign

#bts #bts fanfiction #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #writing #perfectly wrong

[littlemisslipbalm]

“sorry to bother you”

Summary: Y/N meets Harry in a little shop in France. It was a lovely meeting between the fan and the rockstar, but when Y/N realizes she’s lost her phone, will she see Harry sooner than she had ever thought possible?

AKA Harry meets a fan and accidentally steals her phone

vibes bc they snack and she walks up to him while he’s looking at the sky lol ^

Ok so I just wanted to preface this: this was initially just going to be a short blurb about a respectful meeting between Harry and a fan because of the terrible stories I’ve been hearing lately about rude people being inconsiderate of Harry and his privacy and I wanted to showcase that you can treat Harry as a human being rather than an object when you see him irl. But then my writer brain wanted more and so it turned into more. All I have to say is if you ever meet Harry in real life, please be respectful and kind. Also there is a 0.00001 chance that this would ever actually happen as most fiction goes so please don’t expect more than a short convo and maybe a photo from him. For him to even speak with you is more than enough, he really isn’t a disneyland attraction. 

Also not proofread bc apparently its long lol, I’m not super in love with this but I think it’s good-ish the end is meh - pls lemme know what yall think :)

Word Count: 10.2k (wait im actually so confused how this got so long omfg) | Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, idrk its long but it’s sweet?

-

She saw him long before she approached him. She was truly unsure of herself, not wanting to bother him or upset him. She had been a fan for so long and couldn’t pass up the opportunity to meet someone who meant so much to her.

In the small Bayeux shop, she hesitates as she risks another glance at the tall man. She whispered to her mom minutes ago about how Harry Styles was in the same shop as them. Her mom was texting her non stop telling her to go up to him or she would do it herself. Y/N shook her head, distrusting her mom and feeling self conscious. No one else was in the store and her interaction with him wouldn’t disrupt the rest of the store, but for some reason she felt a tinge of discomfort about going up to him.

Harry leafs over a tablecloth, not paying attention to the other patrons in the store or anything else for that matter. He was staying on the coast of France for the week and he hadn’t run into many fans, so he was feeling at ease. Mitch was somewhere else in the store, but Harry felt comfortable on his own. He feels a soft, small tap on his broad shoulder. He turns expecting the quiet Mitch, but is presented with a short, sweet looking woman.

“Excuse me. Um, hi...Sorry to bother you,” she starts, eyes wide as she works to maintain eye contact with Harry as she looks up at him.

His green eyes are widened, realizing this isn’t someone he knows.

“Hello,” he says simply.

“I-” she pauses, her hands fiddling, “I’m sorry to bother you, honestly. But, your music means so much to me and I’d kick myself for the rest of my life if I didn’t say something before you left.”

He smiles, his expression softening at how genuine she sounds. “It’s quite alright.”

“It’s not though. I’m sure you’d appreciate not being bothered for once.”

“No,” he cuts her off, “I love talking with fans.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure there’s days where you wish you could just go to a random store on the coast of France - so out of the way - and not be walked up to by a random person.”

“I mean, I guess, but you seem rather nice.”

“Thanks...I’ve been a fan long enough to know that there’s people who don’t always treat you with that kind of respect. I really wouldn’t have bothered you if it wouldn’t have changed my life.”

“Don’t feel like you’re a bother, please,” he pleads lightly as he grasps her hand out of instinct, dropping it immediately when he realizes what he’s done. “It’s the people who don’t actually come up to me and treat me like an animal that are upsetting. Or the people who are only after a photo and aren’t very nice to me. You… you’re treating me like a human being. Being overly courteous -- if I’m being honest.” He chuckles lightly at the end.

She blushes at his words and smiles up at him, mirroring the soft smile on his lips. “I’m only treating you how I would want to be treated if I were in your shoes.” She glances down at his feet and notices the Gucci boots and smiles to herself, laughing lightly.

“What?”

“We’ve got the same shoes on actually.”

“No way!” His voice is playful at first as he glances down at well and realizes she’s right. He laughs at the weird little coincidence.

“I’ve had these for years, my favorite shoes…” She mumbles, seeing the ways his eyes shift  with a flash of concern. It’s what she fears he would think of her, why she was so hesitant to approach him in the first place. It’s why she had tried to hide her laugh from him when she noticed the similarity. She just wants to interact with him in a normal way. He again softens at her words, her sincerity, realizing it really just is one of those random things.

“They’re good shoes,” he laughs again, kicking his left heel with his right foot. The way she barely touched him to get his attention and the way she stays a safe distance from him is reassuring. She’s aware of his situation, yet she’s treating him with the utmost care and respect.

“So what brings you to Bayeux?” He asks, deciding he wants to continue the conversation with her. Y/N flits her eyes behind her shoulder and sees her mother watching their interaction out of the corner of her eye. She sighs and runs a hand through her hair, leaning against the counter her and Harry are at.

“Vacation, I guess. My family and I love to travel and ever since the pandemic settled down - finally, we’ve been jetting everywhere we’ve ever been or wanted to go. Seize the day vibes.” Her voice is serious, but she falters and laughs at the end. Her words are honest and she’s happy to actually get to talk to Harry more than just hello and a picture.

“I get that. You’re from America, yeah? It was really rough there for a long time.” He says solemnly, mirroring her figure, leaning against the counter, getting comfortable with her.  

She laughs again, smiling up at him, eyes sparkling, completely in love with her idol, but desperately trying to play it cool. “The accent gives it away, huh? I’m trying to fix that, get a job out of the states and never go back.”

“Hey!” Harry interjects, throwing his hand out from his stance in her direction, like he might touch her, but this time being careful to not actually. “It’s not that bad. I like your accent...And I love LA.”

She can’t stop laughing with Harry. It feels so simple and common to just be talking with him. He doesn’t seem like he’s in a rush anywhere, but she also fears to take up too much of his time. “I’m originally from up north in California actually. Living in LA right now, though. But I don’t know, I’ve just always felt like I was meant to live somewhere else. Do you know how that is? Just feeling like you’re meant for something different?”

He watches the way she moves her hands and works through her thought process. He feels like in another world they would have been close friends. The way she talks about things is so familiar to him. It’s like she’s read his mind, even though he knows for sure she hasn’t. She’s funny and laid back, yet mature at the same time. He wonders how old she is, out of college it seems if she’s trying to get a job out of the United States. He wonders what she plans to do and who she wants to become. Her aura intrigues him to no end. He thinks he could talk to her for hours.

Realizing he hasn’t made any sort of response to her somewhat philosophical question, he nods quickly, eyes blinking rapidly, his body straightening up back to his full height. “Yeah..I mean that’s how I felt about music. Like, I always felt like I was meant for something more… Turns out I was!”

They smile together again, knowing the conversation is ending. She knows he won’t keep asking questions and she doesn’t want to keep him.

He knows he can’t completely turn himself over to this stranger, she’s obviously younger than him and even though he feels connected to her, she could surprise him still. He knows he can’t talk to her forever, the cashier glancing at the pair of them every so often since they haven’t been looking at any merchandise for a while now. He knows he shouldn’t flirt with her, ask her out for coffee or anything of the sort. He simply knows this must come to an end any moment now.

“You should definitely follow your heart,... I didn’t catch your name?” He realizes when he can’t finish his sentence by calling her name.

“Oh!” She says surprisedly, not realizing she never gave her name, “Y/N. And thank you, means a lot to hear encouragement come from someone who’s been such an inspiration to me. Honestly, thank you.”

He perks at the way she says her name, again feeling like he’s known her for much longer than these five minutes.

“It’s me who should be thanking you, Y/N. Your support is what makes my life the way it is. It means a lot to me - and you truly seem like a lovely person, genuinely.”

She throws her head back in laughter at all of the words he’s saying. The way he’s trying to convey his sincerity is earnest, but his word choice is simply funny to her. Without realizing what she’s doing, she throws out her arm and her hand lands on his bicep to steady herself while laughing - something she would do with anyone normally. He doesn’t shift from her grasp when she opens her eyes and even widens them at the sight in front of her. Her hand on Harry Styles. How is this happening? She thinks as he doesn’t disintegrate underneath her touch. He’s definitely real as she feels the coat fabric and the muscles beneath it. He smiles down at her, so sweetly that his dimples pop out. She’s in awe, but has to contain the slight sense of coolness she’d been maintaining during their conversation.

She removed her hand, gingerly, “I won’t keep you any longer, Harry.” She blushes when she says his name. “If you don’t mind, I’d love to get a picture with you, but I totally understand if you’re not okay with that. I wouldn’t post it anywhere, it’s more just for me to remember this.” She rushes the last bit, feeling nervous and shy yet again. He was so big physically, but his presence was also so strong that she felt even smaller around him.

His smile calms her immediately and this time it's his hand to touch her, his hand landing over hers that’s been resting on the counter during their conversation.

“Of course,” His lips are soft and plush as they maintain his sweet smile. “Hey Mitch!” He looks over his shoulder as he calls to Mitch who has returned from the upstairs part of the shop.

Mitch blinks at the sight of Harry with a stranger before coming over, “Yeah?”

“Do you mind taking a picture of Y/N and me?”

Y/N is still in disbelief of what is going on, completely awestruck that Harry just said her name again to Mitch Rowland. And that Mitch Rowland was even in this shop with her as well. She hadn’t realized that at first. But now she was going to be forever grateful to her father for insisting they come back to Bayeux during this trip.

Mitch nods and takes her phone once she slips it out of her pocket, fingers fidgeting to get it open quickly. Mitch smiles at her reassuringly as she lets go and moves to stand beside Harry against the counter. He pulls her into his side gently and her hand goes around his waist, feeling his warmth and substantiality for the first true time. She tries to ground herself in the moment, memorizing every detail of right now. His cologne that emanates from his neck, the way the material of his jacket feels against her bare arm, the way he puffs out a slight laugh as Mitch shifts around to get most of their bodies in the frame. Oh and the way he looks when he tilts his neck to check on her and he even risks a wink of one of his emerald eyes and she promises herself she’ll never give away any of the clothes she’s wearing right now. Her nonchalant response is to wink right back and then they both smile, turning back their attention to the phone in Mitch’s hands.

Her mom had gone up to the cashier, effectively distracting them from the photoshoot that had begun to take place. Y/N never wants Harry to let go of her, but again she knows this can’t last forever. Mitch takes a couple of photos before handing the phone back. Y/N assumes that’s it and is about to thank Harry, but he speaks over her and her words die in her throat.

“How do they look?”

“Oh?” She flips through them and Harry leans over her shoulder, respectfully. “Pretty good,” she sums up, she loves them and she’d love even more, but she’d obviously never ask Harry for that.

“Pretty good?” He echoes, unsure of her response, looking from her to the photos, “Do you want to take more?”

She thinks on his offer, already knowing the right answer, “No, no. It’s all good. Thanks.”

Then turning to face Mitch, who’s been watching the pair of them converse, “Could I actually get a photo with you, Mitch? Sorry if that’s super weird, I just think you’re really cool. I had no idea you were even here until, uh, Harry called you over.” She laughs nervously, blushing yet again.

Harry laughs under his breath at how both her and Mitch blush at her words. She’s more unsure with Mitch, which he finds interesting. She had carried their conversation easily and maintained eye contact casually, but with Mitch, it was like he was her schoolyard crush, nervous hands and fleeting glances. He wondered if she genuinely only liked Harry for his music and didn’t find him physically attractive. This nagging feeling at the back of his mind perplexed him, he twitched trying to shrug it off. Why did he care if this woman found Mitch attractive and not him?  

“Yeah, of course. It’s not weird, have had plenty of people say much weirder things to me than that…” He smiles at Y/N and she mirrors his expression, but then she bites her lip. Her expression falters slightly as she processes his words. “I’m sorry if you’ve had similar experiences as Harry with so-called fans being disrespectful and inconsiderate.”

“No need to apologize, you’ve been nothing but kind and respectful,” Harry interjects

She only fidgets at his words. She’s growing slightly more nervous, being in the presence of both Mitch and Harry was starting to wear on her calm exterior. Still, Mitch trades places with Harry and Harry plucks her phone from her hands. He takes more photos than Mitch, doing close ups and full shots, causing Mitch and Y/N to laugh as they hold onto each other. He gives them little instructions on what to do in the photos and soon Y/N is rolling her eyes at Harry like she’s been best friends with him for ages. She feels like she’s just out with a couple of her friends and they decided to stop and pose for photos randomly, rather than meeting rock legends that she had only dreamt of ever seeing in real life.

When Harry is finally satisfied and comes up to the pair of them, she moves away from Mitch first, his long hair shifting as she pulls away from his side. She turns to face him immediately and starts to gush, “You’re an amazing guitarist, by the way. I forgot to say that. When I heard ‘She’ for the first time...I was blown away. The guitar on it...Feels like you’re in another universe. And it follows up ‘To Be So Lonely’ which your guitar on it is also like crazy epic. ”

Harry and Mitch laugh, but Mitch’s smile is appreciative, like he’s about to speak, but Harry speaks first, “That’s because he was in another universe. You know the story?”

She smiles and nods. Harry nods in approval. Mitch interjects, “Thank you. Also, Y/N,” he stares intently at her face and she meets his gaze this time, “You’re truly one of the kindest people - maybe the kindest - who have come up to us. And I’m not just saying that because you complimented my guitar playing.”

“He’s right,” Harry nods solemnly. Her face beams up at them both, now she really felt like this was too good to be true. Meeting her idols and having them both say very complimentary things about her, she’d cherish it forever.

“You both are amazing people and deserve to be treated as such.” Her tone is the sincerest she’s ever been, meaning every single thing she says. Then she rushes out her next few sentences, “But thank you again, seriously, you both mean a lot to me - I’ll let you get back to it...Have a nice day!”

After they say their farewells swiftly, she turns to leave and bounces over to her mother who is grinning with pride for her daughter. Before she exits completely she risks a glance over her shoulder and throws a peace sign up, Harry returns it. Then she walks out of the shop, her mother finishing up her shopping minutes ago. Mitch and Harry stay back, talking and continuing to look around the store.

Y/N tries to keep her cool until they’re out of sight of the shop. Once they round the corner and are on the next street over, she’s jumping up and down and squealing to her mom. “Can you actually believe it? What the fuck just happened? That was real right? I wasn’t hallucinating?”

Her mom laughs and reassures her it was real, “You did that, I’m so proud of you. You handled yourself very maturely”

“Well I tried! I can’t believe Mitch was there too!” She interjects, cutting off her mom, completely ecstatic from the previous experience.

“So how did the photos come out?” Her mom asks once Y/N had stopped rambling about Harry’s outfit and their matching shoes and their conversation and basically anything that had happened in the last ten minutes. They were blocks from the shop now.

“Photos?”

“Yeah, the photos you took with them. How do they look? I was ready to come over, but then that other man popped out of nowhere.”

“He’s smooth like that,” she says wistfully, her little crush on Mitch being nowhere near her love for Harry, but still present, and pats for her phone. “Oh.” She says, stopping in her tracks.

Her mother stops with her, “What?”

“I...I left my phone in the store, I guess.”

“Y/N…” Her mom drags out her name in exasperation, in awe of her daughter’s ability to be so smooth with her own idol yet how forgetful she could still be.

“Shit!” She confirms that her phone is nowhere to be found.  

“Really?” Her mother sighs, hands sitting on her hips in the center of the French street.  

“Sorry?” She asks sheepishly. In her starstruck stupor she had been too transfixed on Harry and Mitch and must have placed it down on the counter.

“Well, let’s go back,” her mother states, tired but also not completely mad. She lost her phone plenty of times and it was usually because of less acceptable reasons. Meeting your idols warranted a spacey head.

The door chimes as Y/N reenters the store, she walks quickly to wear she had her conversation with Harry almost twenty minutes ago and her mom goes to ask the clerk if they had grabbed it. It’s not on the counter where they had been leaning. She glances around checking to see if it had fallen on the ground or if by some grand luck Harry and Mitch were still there. Due to her luck, neither of these hopes came true. Her mom joins her in the area and shakes her head, the clerk hadn’t gotten any phones turned in since they had left the first time.

“Give me your phone,” Y/N says suddenly. “Find my iphone,” she explains when her mom looks at her questioningly. Checking the phone, she sighs in exasperation, silently cursing herself for not sharing her location with her mom when her phone icon says ‘location unavailable’. She rubs a hand over her face in disappointment.

“Don’t click the sound button!” Her mom says quickly, “If someone stole it, they’ll turn it off when they hear it.”

“But how am I supposed to find it? It could be here and I just can’t see it.” Her finger hovers over the ‘play sound’ button, hesitant, but desperate. She had met and gotten photos with Harry Styles and they were already gone - oh and she’d have to replace her phone, which would be terrible, as well.  

“Maybe Harry Styles has it?”

“Mom, don’t be dumb.”

“Hey! Watch your tone. I’m serious. Did he ever hand it back to you after he took those second round of pictures?”

Y/N scratches her head nervously and hands back her mom’s phone. She places both over her face and presses her fingers harshly over her eyes trying to think. She hadn’t been paying attention to her phone at the time, too busy trying to commit everything about Harry to memory in her mind so that she’d never forget it. She was sure she’d never forget today, now, even if she ever stopped loving Harry, which she was doubtful of. Hey kids, I met a rockstar and I was so starstruck I lost my phone in France! She groaned. “Oh my fucking god!”

After a few deep breaths with her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, she composed herself, “We need to play the sound. Either it’s here and we’ll find it. Or - worst case scenario - it sounds and Harry Styles realizes he has my phone and we go from there… Well, I guess in the worst case scenario some jerk stole it and they turn it off and sell it for parts, but I just don’t think that’s what happened.” She bites her lip and stares at her mom, who hesitantly raises her finger to press the button that sets off the alarm on the lost phone. She clicks it after an overly dramatic pause. Y/N prays to anyone who’s willing to listen, she says in her mind, please sound the phone in here. Life would be so much simpler if it worked out the way we wanted. But, in place of the annoying echoing ring of the Find My iPhone tone there is only silence. At least there’s silence in the little shop in Bayeux.

-

In a tiny taxi cab that was headed to a small chateau outside of the town of Bayeux, the phone sounds and causes Harry to furrow his brows. He was sure he had his phone on ‘do not disturb’, but he pulls it out anyway to see why it’s making this annoying sound. What he pulls out of his coat pocket is not his phone he realizes immediately.

“Shit,” he says under his breath, still loud enough for Mitch to look over from the opposite passenger seat.

“What?”

“This isn’t my phone.”

“What?”

Harry rolls his eyes at Mitch’s repeated question and opens up his purse digging out his actual phone and holds up his and the one he had apparently stolen.

“Oh, yeah, that’s not your phone. That’s not good.”

Harry huffs as he turns the unknown phone over in his hand, the screen was a scene of a city he didn’t actually recognize - San Francisco maybe - the lavender silicone case is smooth in his hand and he notices a little sticker, it’s of Y/N and two other women. His eyes widen at it and it makes a little more sense to him. He hadn’t really stolen a phone, he just forgot to give it back. It wasn’t much better, but it was how he was going to comfort himself. Dropping his own phone in his lap, he runs his hand through his hair, rings slightly tugging at his mused curls. Then he turns the sticker to show Mitch, “It’s that girl we met, it’s her phone.”

“You stole her phone,” Mitch states. Voice deadpan and eyes boring into Harry’s.

“No!” Harry defends, but quickly slumps, “I mean, technically? Yes...But-” Mitch’s laughter cuts him off. “You’re an idiot, Harry, y’know that?”

-

“I feel like I’m on punk’d right now…” Y/N grumbles as it becomes clear that the phone is not in this shop. “If this is punk’d, at least my phone’s not actually gone,” she says to no one really. Her mom is pacing the store and stops to look at her daughter, “This is most definitely not punk’d for so many reasons, dear. Mainly because the show got canceled but also because we are in Bayeux, France not Malibu.”

“Fuck…”

She walks out of the shop, barely paying a glance to the shop keeper this time, her usual kind demeanor nowhere to be found under the piles of distress and anxiety plaguing her body.

Back out on the street she looks around, again hoping that with any luck Harry is still around and will come running up to her to give her back her phone. Again, no such luck.

“What the fuck am I going to do?” She looks to her mom helplessly, her arms flapping by her sides, defeated.

-

“What the fuck am I going to do?” Harry asks as they get out of the taxi, glancing at the purple phone in his hand.

Mitch shrugs, “Hope she has her location on?”

“Then she’s going to come here...But wouldn’t she have tried to track it first instead of playing the sound?”

“Dude, I don’t know.You can try to unlock it and find her mom’s number, get in contact with them.” Mitch sighs as they walk through the front door. “Or we can go back to town, see if they’re still there? Did you get her last name? You could find her on social media maybe?”  

“I feel terrible...She was so nice.” Harry throws his bags down on the entryway couch and begins to pace, Y/N’s phone never leaving his hand. “Could go back into town tomorrow, maybe we’ll run into each other again.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mitch sits and runs a hand through his hair, “Just calm down, right now, Harry. There’s not much else you can do.”

He’s right and Harry tries to not fixate on the phone, but he fiddles with it for the rest of the day. He doesn’t let it leave his sight and sets it beside his bed when he gets ready to go to sleep. As he shifts in the bed, unable to fall asleep he takes the phone and begins trying to unlock it, guessing random numbers and failing miserably. Eventually, he decides he should go to bed and drifts off into an uncomfortable sleep.

-

After being unsuccessful in town, Y/N and her mom went back to the little villa they were staying at on the outskirts of Bayeux. It was located next to some vineyards that the villa co-owned with the private chateau that sat on the other side of the vines. It was beautiful and she had been so excited to be staying there. But after the events of today, she was not in the mood to join the rest of her family for dinner among the grapes. She lays on her bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering how she had been so stupid to forget to ask for her phone back.

In the middle of the night, she wakes up in a cold sweat. She’s still in the clothes she had worn out and was laying on top of her covers at the end of her bed. All the windows of the room were closed and her shades weren’t drawn. Groggily, she rose from her uncomfortable position and changed. Moving to the window to let some air in she sees the lights flickering in a room of the private chateau across the way. She wondered why someone would willingly be up at this hour, even though she was unsure exactly what time it was without her phone. Her phone. That’s what had woken her up. She had dreamt that her mom had called her phone and the frog from the Frog and the Toad stories had picked it up. That was ridiculous, of course, but the idea to call her phone instead of just pinging it was solid. If Harry still had it, then he could pick up and they could figure out how to meet up. She decided she’d have to do that at a reasonable hour, however and moved on, opening her windows and closing the sheer shades, before getting under her covers to sleep.

-

Y/N wakes up early the next morning. Her sleep a restless one. Padding down the hall to her parent’s room, she knocks solemnly. She was far from a morning person and it was much to her mother’s surprise to see her standing in the hallway when she opened the door.

“Hey..” her voice catches in her throat, scratchy from lack of use in the night.

“Good morning, sunshine,” her mother laughs slightly, but Y/N only gives her an unamused look and walks into her room immediately searching for her mom’s phone.

“Need to use your phone, gonna call my phone,” she mutters, none of her thoughts being coherent sentences.

“Y/N, it’s 7 am. You’re going to call Harry Styles at 7 am? With your morning voice?”

Her eyes narrow and her lips form a straight line one her face, clearly not amused by her mother’s questions. Even if she knew her mom was right. She clears her throat and rolls her eyes at her mom, who is moving around the room beginning to get ready for the day as her daughter sits on the rumpled bed. Y/N’s father had already gone out to breakfast in the main area of the villa.

“Fine,” she slides off the bed when she realizes her mom isn’t offering her any more words of wisdom. “I’ll get ready for the day and then I will call my phone.”

Pattering back to her room, she slowly begins to dress and liven herself up for the day. Her hands instinctively reach out to her bedside table to pick up her phone to turn some music on, but of course she’s greeted with nothing. She groans loudly, “Of. Fucking. Course.” Shaking her head, she moves to take fresh clothes out of her suitcase.

Exiting her room again, this time far more awake, she walks down the hallway in a babydoll style top that read “Don’t play with my heart” with little girls playing racquetball with a red heart emblazoned over her chest and white jean floods. Her feet were covered in red high top converse today, matching the color of the small heart on her shirt. She liked the contrast of the white pants and the bright red of the shoes and she smiled to herself as she walked confidently into the breakfast area.

Her entire family was sitting around one of the tables, sipping coffee and eating pastries, it was now around 8:45 - a slightly more acceptable part of the day. They were all early risers, especially in comparison to her, and her older sister looks at her curiously. “What are you doing up so early, kid?” Y/N leans down to grab a slice of a peach from her brother’s place, which earns her a slight yelp of protest. She rolls her eyes at her sister and stalks off to the buffet, knowing she’s made her presence known enough.

“Can I borrow your phone now?” Y/N says after finishing a small danish and the lukewarm coffee that was at their table when she arrived. Her mother finally nods and hands it over. As Y/N grabs it, she’s already halfway out the doors that lead into the backyard of the villa. 

She stands on the grass that goes for a few feet before a hedge that separates the villa ground with the vineyard. Flipping through the contacts, she settles on hers and sighs, trying to calm her nerves. Her free hand ghosts over her hair and she uses one foot to step lightly on the heel of the other shoe. Please pick up, she sends out a prayer once again. Her last twenty-four hours seemed to consist of dreams, hopes, and prayers and she was starting to realize that she didn’t particularly like any of them. Biting her lip, she raises her phone up to her ear and gets her automatic voice message. Realizing she has her phone on ‘do not disturb’, she immediately rings herself again, knowing that it will go through this time.

-

Harry strolls out of his bathroom and widens his eyes when he hears a buzzing hear his bed. Seeing it’s Y/N’s phone he grabs it quickly and furrows his brow at the contact. Her mother’s name, but he doesn’t know that. To him it’s just a person’s name, it could be anyone she knew. Still, he thought about the odds of it being just one of her friends or her calling from someone else’s phone and decided to risk it.

“Hello?”

“Thank fucking God!” is all he hears and he’s pretty sure it’s Y/N’s voice.

“Y/N?” He laughs and takes a seat on his bed, staring out his window that opened to the vineyard.

“Yes! Harry? Hi!” She’s ecstatic that anyone picked up at all, bouncing up and down on the other side of the phone. She mutters to herself, once again, “Thank fucking God.”

“Who’s phone are you calling from?”

“Oh, my mom’s,” she says, calming down slightly as she begins to walk around the grass, unable to contain the renewed sense of energy she has.

“You don’t keep her in your contacts as ‘mum’? I almost didn’t pick up.” He tilts his head, trying to think of anyone else he knew who kept their mother’s contact as the actual name rather than ‘mum’ or some other variant of it.

“Well, thanks for picking up,” she laughs at his words, bringing her pacing to a stop to stare at the chateau across the way. “It’s really not that weird,” she insists, her arm going to cradle the elbow of the arm that holds the phone to her ear. “I don’t think any of my siblings have her as ‘mom’ in their contacts.”  

“I think it’s a little weird. I’m going to have to start asking people what they’ve got their mum down as in their phones. You’ve got me intrigued,” he muses, only slightly teasing. A smile curves onto his face as he hears her huff over the phone, obviously not liking his ribbing.

“So...you have my phone,” she changes the subject.

“Yes…” he scratches his head and she swears she could hear him awkwardly rubbing at his hair. “Sorry ‘bout that. Guess I forgot to give it back.”

“Not entirely your fault, I probably should have asked for it back. It was like twenty minutes before I even realized I didn’t have it and that was only really thanks to my mom.” She tries to not make him feel bad, because she honestly felt responsible for the mess up.

“Yeah, but I probably wouldn’t’ve realized till I got back to my place and pulled out one phone from my pocket and another one from my bag if you hadn’t tried the ‘find my iphone’ thing.”

“Oh my god, was it loud!? Did you have a hard time shutting it off?” She rushes as all the possible ways she might have annoyed Harry yesterday run through her mind.

“No, no, it was fine,” he reassures her, laughing lightly, standing up now and beginning to pace in front of his window. “Felt like a proper dick, though. Never in my life have I forgotten to give someone their phone back.” He sighs and stops in front of the window, deciding to open it for some fresh air.

Her gaze flits to a movement on the second floor of the chateau, someone opening up their window apparently. The long paned windows flip open and the little sheer curtains flutter in the slight morning breeze.

“So are you still in Bayeux?” Harry asks, hoping her answer is ‘yes’ as he takes in a deep breath of the air from outside.

“Yeah. Are you still here?” She asks timidly, moving her gaze down to her shoes bright red sticking out of the green grass. “Because that will make getting my phone back much easier,” she adds, clarifying that it’s not supposed to be a personal question, just simply a logistical one. Even if her heart skips a beat at the thought of seeing Harry again.

“Yes, I am. Well...just outside the town actually.”

“You don’t say? I’m staying just outside of town, too. At a little villa located next to a vineyard,” She looks around her surroundings again, walking the length of the garden once more. A movement from the same room that had opened their windows at the chateau catching her eye once again. A man, with his arm placed on the sill, leaning out slightly.

“You’re not wearing red shoes by any chance?” He smiles and she can hear the way it affects his words. Looking out of the window, he eyes the villa and the person who was pacing around its patio, seemingly on the phone.

Her brows raise and she stops in her tracks. “Did you just open your window?”

The only response from Harry that she hears is a soft chuckle. But, more importantly, the man in the chateau is waving to her. She grins and waves her free hand over her head, doing a slight jump to make sure he sees her. His laughter only grows, crackling slightly over the telephone line.

“What are the odds?” She breathes out after a moment. Her waving hand fell to her side and she looked at the figure in the window. It wasn’t exactly clear to her that it was Harry, but the way the man was hunched was enough to convince her. She vaguely sees him shake his head in agreement at the serendipitous nature of their current situation.

“Have you had a chance to dine in the vineyard yet?” Harry bites his lip after he asks the question, feeling a little more confident in his flirtation over the phone.

“I have - only once for dinner. Last night I was so stressed I couldn’t eat.”

“What do you think about lunch in the vineyard?” He’s smiling now, the charm dripping in every word he says. His accent is music to her ears and she thinks how could she ever say no to that offer.  

“I don’t know...lunch with my phone thief?” She imitates an unsure tone. Her tease is lighthearted and Harry huffs, playfully indignant.

“As an apology for keeping your phone by mistake,” he adds, emphasizing the ‘by mistake’ part.

“As long as I can get my phone back, I’m up for anything you want,”  She laughs, but then blushes at the innuendo that could be found in her words. Harry hears it and an amused look spreads across his face, the definition of anything running through his mind as well as his assured belief that Y/N did not mean what she had just implied. “I mean! Not anything, I just...Lunch in the vineyard would be lovely, Harry.” She sighs, a hand trailing down her face at her complete foolishness.

“Great. How does one o’clock sound?” He moves on from her slip, not wanting to embarrass her anymore. Especially when he was the one to cause this entire situation.

“Sounds smashing, Mr. Thief,” She breathes out, but laughs when she hears Harry groan.

“You’re something else, missy.”

“I know.” She rolls her eyes, trying to contain her giggles at their playful back and forth.

“See you at one.” He says finally.

“See you at one.” She echoes, continuing to watch him in the window. Neither of them seem to move to hang up. She’s stood in place and so is he, his head hanging out of the window now, resting himself on his arm. It’s just their breathing exchanging over the line and some gusts of wind crackling the connection every so often.

“Are you going to hang up?” She whispers, after a minute of complete silence, her voice coming out impossibly small.

“Thought you would’ve by now.”

“I don’t know why I can’t.” She admits, but she just feels weird hanging up on him even if they have plans to see each other later.

“Me neither.” His response causes her to tilt her head in confusion. Why would he have trouble hanging up on her?

“Okay.”

Then, it’s quiet again. Both of them shifting their bodies around, yet still managing to stay on the line. Y/N is the one who hangs up the phone after hearing Harry’s breath shake slightly, like he’s steeling himself to actually hang up. She realizes that while she doesn’t want to hang up on him, she’d rather do it than have him hang up on her. If that made any sense. She wasn’t sure, but the way he had invited her to lunch, it just felt like he had shifted their relationship from fan and star to something else. Something she didn’t fully grasp, but whatever it was made her stomach flip.

-

She informed her family that she wouldn’t be going out with them today and that she was getting her phone back, but not that she would be having lunch with Harry. She had no idea what they would think about it, but she didn’t want to give them the chance to inform her.

Walking through the vineyards, she watches the slight dust from the dirt gather on her shoes, the red converse. She had settled on what she had been wearing originally after changing her outfit upwards of twenty times. Best to be casual, she thought, like it was no big deal that she was about to dine with a musician whom she loved.

There was only one table on this side of the vineyard, it was the part owned by the chateau, a couple rows from where the villa had their tables. The simple cream tablecloth laid across the wooden table that had two matching wooden chairs with cream cushions placed around it. On top of the table was a picnic basket and a bottle of red wine, made from the grapes in the vineyard. And in one of the chairs sat Harry. Big square green glasses perched on his nose as he looked up at the sky. Y/N takes in his appearance, his cream shirt with stitched patterns on it, half unbuttoned to grant a full view of his swallows and butterfly as well as baggy light wash ripped jeans and dirty white vans. His shirt almost matches the tablecloth, but she’s not sure if he would take that as a compliment.

He hadn’t noticed her presence and he rubs his lips together, smoothing the lip balm he had applied before settling outside.

“Mr. thief?” She touches lightly on his shoulder, similar to how she had done yesterday. His head shoots up and he readjusts in his chair, to sit up slightly more upright. A smile curves onto his face and he moves his glasses up into his hair, pushing his curls back behind them.

“Y/N,” he drags out her name, toying with the sound of it. His eyes flit over her figure, taking in her outfit but quickly run back to her beautiful face. He motions for her to take a seat and she complies.

“The red shoes,” he smiles, glancing at her shoes. She laughs and does a little click of her heels.

“Can’t believe my phone was less than a mile away from me last night.”

“Oh! Your phone!” Harry’s eyes widened, “I forgot it in my room!”

Y/N laughs, her smile spreading on her face immediately, but her face falls when she sees Harry isn’t laughing. “You can’t be serious.” Harry says nothing, a blush creeping up his neck. “Harry…” she doesn’t know what else to say, scratching at the back of her head. “I guess stars really are just like us, complete space cadets.”

“I’m sorry! I was..distracted.”

She can’t keep herself from laughing and she places her hand over Harry’s on the table, trying to calm him down. “No worries, seriously, I was just teasing you. I’ve gone this long without my phone, an hour or so more won’t kill me.”

He smiles sheepishly, mentally kicking himself for how foolish he had made himself look. “Sorry ‘bout that. Seems like I’m really trying to keep your phone, doesn’t it?”

“Kind of...but I don’t think there’s anything in particular on there that you’d really be interested in having access to.”

He grabs the bottle of wine and takes the temporary cork off, he had previously uncorked it before Y/N had arrived. He pours the wine and then quirks a brow towards her. “I’m sure you’ve got some funny notes on there, you’re hilarious.”

She scoffs as his look is serious. Picking her glass up, she clinks it with Harry’s and takes a sip. She hums at the taste, judging the flavor and deeming it good. He watches her as she makes her silent decision and smirks at the way she smiles to herself. Coming back to the conversation she makes eye contact with Harry as she sets the glass down and leans back in her chair.

“You barely know me.” A coy smile flits across her features now. Harry’s heart skips a beat at her tone. He had been expecting some lighthearted quip, but this held something far more intense. It’s still teasing, but it’s far closer to flirting than friendly joking.

He begins to unpack the basket and place food onto the table, eyes constantly flickering between his task and Y/N. Her eyes are fixated on his hands, the way they flex and move and the way his rinks clink against the containers he’s moving around.

“Then tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything.” He finishes placing the food on the table and removes the basket from the table so there’s nothing obstructing their view of each other.

“Very specific,” she takes a sip of her wine again, refraining from rolling her eyes. It was easy to talk to Harry, like they had been friends forever.

Harry lets out one of his loud single laughs. “See! You’re hilarious.” His compliment makes her finally roll her eyes playfully. Instead of responding, she puts some food onto the plate in front of her and takes a bite of a peach slide she had grabbed.

“You’re a flirt,” she says finally, her smile spreading across her face.

“That’s a fact ‘bout me not you, love.”

She bites her lip. For being extremely forgetful, Harry was also extremely charming. “Well, I’m not a fan of flirts.”

“I thought you said you were a massive fan yesterday?” He tilts his head to the side and looks at her with an inviting look in his eye, obviously trying to goad her.

She let out a gasp at his words and began to blush. His stare felt like a second sun boring straight into her, its heat traveling directly to her core. Trying to maintain her collected appearance that she had played so well yesterday, she takes a breath and another sip of wine. The liquid ran down her throat, soothing her. Shaking her head she says, “You know what I meant.”

Biting a piece of bread, Harry nods and shoots her a wink. Her legs instinctively shift together. Finishing his chewing, he speaks up, “Okay, but seriously, tell me more about yourself.”

They settle in, getting more serious and having an actual conversation rather than flirty comments shot back and forth. By the end of the bottle of wine, Harry and Y/N are cackling about some story she’s told about her first solo trip to Amsterdam and all the trouble she got into being a twenty year old college student with easy legal access to weed.

“I remember the first time I went to Amsterdam with the band,” Harry easily segways into his own story and she perks at the words ‘the band’. After all the fun they had been having talking and getting to know each other, the idea that Harry was a famous musician had left her mind completely. For the last forty-five minutes he had just been a really nice guy who was treating her to lunch.

She looks at him expectantly. “It was crazy cool, I think I was only seventeen then? But everyone else was over 18 so they bought us a bunch of pot and we smoked it and got high off our asses. Can barely remember what we talked about, but we definitely thought it was the smartest shit ever”

“Do you ever miss that?”

He finishes off his last bit of wine, “Being young and dumb?”

“No, the, like, relationship you had with them. I don’t mean to pry, but I feel like with any close relationship, when you stop being together all the time...it’s never the same.”

Harry sighs, thinking over what you had said, now knowing it was rather serious and not just about being young. He runs a hand through his soft curls before starting his response. “Short answer is yes. But, y’know, they were my family for so long and that bond doesn’t go away, even if we go through rough patches. Like that part of my life is such an essential part of who I am, I could never throw it away or discount it. I don’t know if I miss it all of the time though. I really like who I am right now.”

She nods, finishing her wine now too. Her body is fuzzy and warm under the soft light of the afternoon. Sharing a bottle of wine was enough to make her tipsy, but she felt sober enough to carry on their serious conversation. “That’s good. It’s important to like who you are right now. It’s how you know you’re ready to be there for others.” She says thoughtfully and then adds, “I like who I am right now, too.”

Harry smiles at her, a calm expression maintaining on his face, and twists his rings on his fingers. “That’s good,” he echoes. “Do you want to go for a walk?” His voice is soft and of course she’s going to say yes.

Her response is to stand up from the table and begin putting things back into the picnic basket. Harry watches her for a moment, taking in the way she moves with so much elegance even when doing such a mundane task. He is honestly so happy that he had gotten to see her again. She had intrigued him yesterday, but he had just expected her to be one of those fleeting thoughts in his mind. Now he wasn’t so sure. He had a feeling she would live in his memory for far longer. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll come back later and grab it all.”

“You set this all up, the least I can do is clean up a little,” She looks up at him from her crouched position as she packs up the leftover food into the basket still on the ground. Her hair is slightly falling into her face and she reaches to push it behind her ear while they continue to look at one another. Harry takes his lower lip into his mouth as he continues to look at her, trying to convince himself she’s not the most beautiful woman he’s ever met.

As they walk between the grapes, they continue to talk, further investigating Y/N’s job aspirations and what Harry was planning on for his next few weeks of vacation. He leads them down a dirt path after they cross the street, moving away from both the villa and the chateau. The path has tall grass flanking its sides that pushes around in the cool summer breeze. She mentions the beautiful sound of the birds chirping and Harry agrees. They walk until they reach the small lake that’s about a ten minute walk from their respective current residences. It’s not a lake for swimming so there’s no one around, just more tall grass, some small trees, and the animals.

“It’s really so beautiful here.”

“I love it a lot, I’ve been coming down here every evening and just sitting alone for an hour or so,” Harry motions to the little wooden bench located beneath a shady tree. She looks at him questioningly, unsure if he means for them to sit. He takes her hand in response and leads them over to it. It’s right before the edge of the pond and if their legs were just a bit longer they could touch the feet into the water.

“It’s nice,” She says, turning her attention from the scenery to stare at Harry, who she finds is already looking at her. Their eyes meet and she bites her lip. He’s so close to her. Closer than they were in the shop yesterday and now their faces are on the same level. His glasses are still pushed into his curls and she decides to pluck them from his head and place them over her eyes instead. Harry protests, but she says smugly, “I’m putting them to better use than just sitting a top that head of yours. It’s quite bright out.”

Harry leans into her, extending his arm behind her and resting it on the back of the bench. She sighs peacefully, with her gaze now hidden behind the glasses. She returns her gaze out against the water and tries to shift closer to Harry casually. They stay silent, listening to the rest of the world moving around them. Soon she’s resting nestled into his side and his arm has moved from the bench to rest around her shoulders. She exhales in contentment, but neither of them have said anything for a while. They were okay with it, being held was enough. Her right hand goes up and threads with Harry’s that is hanging limply against her.

After a few more minutes of silence, Harry decides he wants to talk. “I like being around you.”

“I like being around you too, Harry. You’re different than I had expected.”

“Really?”

“Yeah..I mean there’s that sinister quote about how you should never meet your heroes. But still, you were even kinder than I expected and even though you stole my phone,” she pauses to laugh,”it kind of turned out to be a blessing in disguise because I got to see you again.”

“Thanks…” Harry sighs and she turns her face to gaze up at him. “Well, yeah, now I’m sorta glad I did take your phone. You’re really wonderful.” She smiles and he smiles just as wide.

But then her smile falters, suddenly remembering everything. It was like a self-fulfilling prophecy, she mentioned that thing about heroes and it all came crashing down around her. Yes, it was amazing to be around Harry and it was great that he had been so down to earth. But what she had just said was true too. He was her hero, he was famous and their lives didn’t connect at all. Just that one fleeting moment in the shop. If she hadn’t known him they would have never interacted. She had even been on her last legs of being in that store, she was just about to ask her mom to leave when Harry had walked through the door.

She sits up and drops her hand from his and he looks at her confused. “Did I say something wrong?” He asks, concerned. She stands up now and walks the short distance to the edge of the water, pushing his glasses on top of her head. He follows quickly, growing anxious as she stays silent. “I just..” she laughs in spite of herself, “I just feel really dumb right now.”

“What? Why?” Harry’s really confused now, she won’t meet his gaze as he faces her trying to figure out what just happened.

“I can’t believe I fooled myself into thinking for even a second this could ever be something more.” She turns to Harry finally, looking him directly in the eye, even though her eyes are prickling with tears. She’s angry with herself, not Harry. “You’re you and I’m just a fan at the end of the day. All of the flirting and touching, it can’t be anything more. At most, I’m a one night stand. And as great as that would be in the moment, I know how I feel about you and I know it would ruin me. I can’t be a fling for you, Harry. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” he grabs her arm, trying to comfort her, she shrugs him off. “You’re more than a fan to me, I thought that was obvious by now. You wouldn’t be some meaningless one night stand. When I say I like being around you, I mean I like you, Y/N.” His voice is strong yet soft. He needs to convince her that she can feel comfortable around him, but he sees the darkness in her eyes, how scared she is of being hurt.

“I don’t fit into your life, Harry.” She shakes her head, moving her hands more as she grows more anxious.

“That’s not true. You told me you want to move to England, we could see each other there and see if this was anything.”

She knows he’s right, that it was possible, but she had worked herself up so much now that she had a hard time believing it. She takes a deep breath, “Just answer me this. Would you have given me a second glance if I hadn’t come up to you in that shop yesterday? Or a second thought if there hadn’t been the phone mishap?”

Harry is taken aback. Her words had nothing to do with what he had just said. He had thought his solution was actually really great, a plan he had been meaning to tell her if the rest of the day had gone accordingly, which it didn’t seem to be doing. He pauses and if Y/N was anymore distraught that would have been her cue to leave. Thankfully, she had grounded herself enough in the situation to not let her hot head get in the way of this conversation.

“That’s a pretty unfair question, Y/N. It’s not like I’m constantly looking for someone to fancy.”

“Just answer the questions.”

“Probably not, about the first one, I hadn’t even noticed anyone in the shop before you came up to me. I was off in my own world.” She nods, taking his words into account. He continues, “But yes, about the second one, I thought about you in the car ride home before your phone even rang. Like I said, I like you.”

“Okay.” She softens.

“That’s it?”

“I mean you’re right. We could see each other in London and see if this is something. I just had to know about the other stuff, it was racing through my mind and I wouldn’t get over it unless you gave me an answer.”

“Oh, so can I kiss you?” His words broke the uncomfortable tension that had surrounded them.

“You still want to?” Her voice is small and unsure. The most nervous she had been around Harry was right now.  

“I want to do so much more than that, darling, you have no idea.” He cups her cheek and wraps an arm around her waist. She giggles in nervous anticipation. Then his lips gently push onto hers and she sighs into the kiss. At the edge of the lake, the pair of them taste each other for the first time. Tongues begin licking into each other’s mouths and the kiss becomes breathless. Her hands are at the base of his neck, tugging him closer to her while he tightens his grasp around her waist. She moans slightly when Harry nips at her lower lip and he smirks, happy with the sound she makes.

“We should probably go get my phone.” Harry whimpers at her words.

“What?” Harry is once again confused by the woman before him, who had now pulled from their kiss.

“My phone is in your room…” She trails off and then eyes widen and he giggles excitedly. Eventually realizing what she’s implying.

“Yes! Yes, we should go do that. Get your phone. In my room. Sounds like a good idea. Mhmm.” He pecks her lips between each sentence.

“You’re so weird,” she laughs and brings down his shades onto her face once again. He pulls her into his side and kisses the top of her head as they begin their walk back to the chateau.

“Do you want your phone or not?”

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