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malfoyscoffee · 21 hours

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message in a bottle ౨ৎ theodore nott

pairing theodore nott x fem!slytherin!reader genre fluff | 1.8k words | friends/fwb to lovers warnings mentions of drinking alcohol, use of y/n song "message in a bottle" — red (taylor's version), taylor swift

YOU WOKE UP IN THEODORE NOTT'S BED, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains of his dorm room. His room was a comfortable mess, with books and clothes scattered around, and the faint scent of cologne lingering in the air.

You sat up stretching, feeling the warmth of the blanket cocooned around you, and glanced at Theodore, who was still half-asleep beside you.

"Y/n, come on, stay a bit longer," Theo mumbled, his voice husky with sleep as he reached out to pull you back into the warmth of the bed. His eyes, heavy with sleep, pleaded with you to stay.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "I can't, Theo. It's Sunday so I need to complete my Transfiguration paper."

He groaned, rubbing his eyes as he sat up, his messy hair adding to his disheveled charm. "You always leave early in the morning. Can't you take one day off and cuddle?"

Your heart fluttered at the thought of spending the day wrapped in Theo's arms, but you knew you couldn't afford to slack off. "I wish I could," you replied, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and standing up. "But if I don't finish this paper, McGonagall will have my head."

Theo smirked, watching you as you searched for your shoes amidst the clutter of his room. "You know, most people would kill for an excuse to stay in bed longer. Especially with me."

You rolled your eyes playfully, finally finding your shoes and slipping them on. "Nice try, Nott."

He sighed dramatically, leaning back against his pillows, the morning sunlight casting a golden glow on his features. "Fine. But you're going to Draco's dorm to hang out later, right?"

You smiled, grabbing your robe and heading towards the door. "Of course. I'll see you later, Theo. Try not to miss me too much."

He laughed, throwing a pillow in your direction as you left his room. The cool air of the dungeon corridors greeted you as you made your way back to your own dorm, a contented smile lingering on your lips.

Later that night, all of your friends decided to drink, but after running out of alcohol, you and Mattheo offered to go get some more. Thankfully, the Weasley twins owed you a favor, and they had some leftover liquor from the last Gryffindor party.

Although both of you were tipsy, making the entire journey humorous, you were sober enough to navigate the dark corridors.

"Matt, stop, you're going to wake up the entire floor!" you shushed Mattheo’s laughter as you walked up the stairs to the dorms.

“All right, all right,” Mattheo whispered back, his voice still carrying a hint of amusement. He was holding the crate full of bottles, which were making noises with every lousy step.

As you approached Draco’s dorm, you slowed your steps, Mattheo following suit. The low murmur of voices from inside caught your attention.

“What do you think they're talking about?” you whispered to Mattheo.

Mattheo's eyes gleamed mischievously. “Let's find out.”

You nodded, turning Draco's door knob quietly to open the door. When the door had a small crack, you both inched closer to the hole, trying to listen in without being noticed.

“So, when are you confessing to Y/n?” Blaise's voice rang out, breaking the quietude of the hallway.

“I’m tired of listening to how you're going to ask her out, then never have the guts to actually do it,” Blaise continued, his tone laced with amusement.

The mention of your name made you hold your breath and you felt Mattheo tense from beside you. In your best friend's head, you weren't supposed to find out this way.

“I agree with Blaise,” Lorenzo chimed in. “Just go on and ask her out already.”

Then came Pansy's voice, her tone teasing. “I can't believe you've fallen for your friends with benefits.”

Theodore Nott likes you?

"I heard Diggory is planning on asking her out this week. If you're serious about her, you should make a move before him."

Theodore sat in silence at Draco's comment, the gears in your head turning like clockwork.

You stole a glance at Mattheo, the new information soaking in. He smirked at your clueless face before he stood up straightening his back and had you do the same.

“We’re back with more bottles! Who’s ready to drink more?” Mattheo walked inside the dorm to set the crate down.

You felt yourself sobering up as you stood by the door, still taken back at the new information. Eventually, you stepped in, closing the door behind you, the open spot next to Theodore reserved for you.

When you sat in your old seat, Theodore’s arm snaked around your waist, placing his head on your shoulder. He placed his hand on your thigh, joining in the new topic that your friends were discussing.

The night continued as if nothing had changed, but the knowledge of Theodore's feelings weighed heavily on your mind.

You laughed along with your friends and enjoyed the drinks but you couldn't help calculate to all of Theodore’s touch, as it felt more meaningful.

The next day, you woke up with a knot of nerves in your stomach. You had Potions class with Mattheo, and you were determined to ask him for confirmation about Theodore. You’d had a crush on Theo for years, and the uncertainty was driving you crazy.

As you walked to the dungeons, you noticed the familiar hustle and bustle of students making their way to class. The cool air and the stone walls of Hogwarts offered little comfort as you navigated through the corridors, your thoughts consumed by the conversation from last night.

When you entered the classroom, you spotted Mattheo setting up your workstation. He glanced up and offered you a small smile, but you could tell that he sensed something was bothering you.

Professor Snape swept into the room, his presence commanding attention. "Today, you will be brewing Veritaserum," he announced, his voice cutting through the quiet chatter of the students.

After a brief reminder of when the potion was due, the classroom erupted into activity as students gathered ingredients and prepared their cauldrons.

You and Mattheo worked side by side, but your mind was elsewhere, the events from last night playing on a loop in your head.

About halfway through the class, as you waited for a potion to simmer, the room filled with the low hum of conversations. Seizing the opportunity, you turned to Mattheo, the anticipation of the previous night's revelations still weighing heavily on your mind.

"Matt," you began quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. You glanced around to make sure no one else was listening, the tension palpable in the air.

"What's up, Y/n?" Mattheo replied, his voice barely audible over the gentle bubbling of the cauldrons. He looked at you expectantly, his eyes filled with curiosity.

"Last night, when we overheard the conversation in Draco's dorm... about Theo," you said, the words tumbling out in a rush, the weight of the revelation pressing down on you.

Mattheo's face softened, a knowing look in his eyes as he nodded in understanding. "Yeah, it's true. Theo's fancied you for a while now. You weren’t supposed to find out that way, he’s been wanting to confess. He just hasn't had the guts to say anything."

You sighed in relief and frustration, the words hanging in the air like a heavy fog. "I really like him too, but I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm just waiting for him to make a move but it’ll take forever."

Mattheo smiled sympathetically, his expression filled with understanding. "Sometimes, you just have to be patient. Theo will come around. He's just... not good at expressing his feelings."

His words offered some comfort and you forced yourself to focus on the potion in front of you, but your mind was still consumed by thoughts of Theodore.

After classes finished, you were sitting by the Black Lake, enjoying the warm weather and the rare moment of peace. The sky was clear, and the gentle breeze made the day perfect for a relaxing break.

You noticed Cedric Diggory standing nearby, looking like he wanted to approach you. He caught your eye and walked over with a friendly smile.

"Hey, Y/n," he greeted, standing beside you. "I've been meaning to ask you something." You smiled back, though your mind instantly recalled Draco's words the other night

"What's up, Cedric?"

"Well," Cedric began, rubbing the back of his neck, "I was wondering if you'd like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"

From a distance, Theodore saw you talking to Cedric. His heart sank as he saw Cedric leaning in, seemingly asking you something important.

He couldn't hear the conversation, but he could see the serious expressions on both of your faces. Panic surged through him as he rushed over, hoping it wasn’t too late.

Theodore left Pansy and Draco's side, their faces confused at his sudden departure. It was when they saw that you were with Cedric, that the two smirked with knowing looks.

As Theodore got closer, Cedric smiled at you one last time before walking away, leaving you alone. Theodore reached you just as Cedric was disappearing from view.

"Y/n," Theo said, slightly out of breath, "Can I talk to you for a second?" You looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat.

"Of course, Theo." He took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "I saw you talking to Cedric, and I don't know if I'm too late but I need to tell you something. I’ve fancied you for a long time, and I’ve been too scared to say anything. I know we're already seeing each other for other reasons, but I fell for you hard."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, causing Theo to look at you in confusion.

"What's so funny?" You shook your head, a smile playing on your lips.

"Theo, I overheard everything last night. I know that you like me. And just now, when Cedric asked me out, I told him I fancied someone else."

Theodore’s eyes widened in surprise. "You did? Who?" You took a step closer, your eyes meeting his with a warmth that made his heart race.

"It’s you, Theo. I’ve been waiting for you to finally ask me out." A look of relief and joy spread across Theodore’s face.

"Really? You like me?" You nodded, smiling up at him.

"Yes, really." He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding.

"So, how about we make this the start of something new? No more friends with benefits, but an actual relationship?" You squeezed his hands, feeling the warmth and sincerity in his words.

"I’d like that very much." As you both sat down by the lake, hand in hand, you realized that the waiting was over.

Your message has been received.

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zoropookie · 2 days

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HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter twenty-nine — bittersweet (💋)

Reading the text didn’t bring tears to his eyes, but for some reason, it still stung badly.

It wasn’t the words themselves, but a twinge of disappointment that he felt shortly afterward. It ruminated in his thoughts the minute that the car ride started, and all he was left with was his own disappointment, and a lack of fight left.

And as he sat in that passengers seat, the words seemed to be knocked out of him yet again. The world blurred into a haze of colors and shapes. He clenched at his own palms until his knuckles turned white and his mind spiraled.

It suffocated him, but he knew a lot about that to endure it anyway.

"You know," A female's voice rippled through his chaos to grasp his attention. "It's not that bad."

He blinked, slowly refocusing his gaze and turning his head manually towards Furina. "What is."

"The (Y/N) stuff." She said, glancing every now and then from the road towards him.

His expression was of weary resignation. "You think so?" He sighed out, the words feeling heavy on his tongue every time he even spoke.

"They may be mad at you right now, but you have a plan." She said, her gaze steady. "It may not be fool proof, but you'll come out of it with a clearer conscience than that Tartaglia ever will. I promise."

But even with her promises, it didn't feel right to be comparing his peace of mind to another's. Maybe his conclusion would be completely different after all. Her words rushed over him like a soothing balm, the turmoil that he usually felt being nudged away.

For the first time in forever, he felt somewhat of a spark of determination. "Thanks." He murmured audibly, a small gasp coming from the former as he cringed, "For...all this, I guess. It's not often people are this nice to me."

"I didn't think you were capable of being grateful! I should gloat in this." She grinned, "You've grown used to people treating you like a liability. Whether you like it or not, it's not normal. Wean yourself off of that as soon as possible."

The rest of the car trip was silent. He couldn't entirely take his mind off of the events, and even the meeting he's taking himself to, but the passing scenery outside the car window put his mind elsewhere until the car slowed to a stop.

He put his back cap and mask on with less resolve than what he started with, unable to shake the feeling of discomfort her felt now that the gravity of the situation weighed down on him. He looked again out the window at the exact seat he wanted before exhaling. "If I don't come back, just abort mission."

"Don't be dramatic." Furina's eyes dulled, also knowing this situation was wary. "But...I'll be near, okay? Just in case this goes south and it actually is someone trying to kill you."

"Yeah, it's really fun being shark bait, thank you." He shook his head to himself, opening the car door to approach the cafe.

The building was more certain than he was in that moment, a warm glow beckoning the area. He never realized how little he went out these days, this same coffee shop was entirely different than the last time he came. The familiar sight and sounds of the city he used to know was suddenly unfamiliar to him.

Muted voices to him inside the little shop, all rambling vicariously. It was funny, the main reason he stopped even coming here was because things started getting busier and busier. Ei would apply pressure to him once he agreed to the streaming stuff. Did he ever really lose his identity if he never got to have one in the first place?

He squared his shoulders once the espresso he ordered was ready, quickly nodding in acknowledgement to the barista and sitting outside for a breath of fresh air. Everything around him was suffocating, and he never thought he'd be like one of those guys who are scared of having an actual life outside of their computer.

Maybe that was her plan, now that he was thinking about it.

He let the cool breeze wash over him, despite almost his whole face being covered except his eyes. He felt skittish, and uneasy, fingers lightly tapping at the to go cup of espresso in his hands. "What am I even looking for..." He murmured irritably, annoyance plaguing his thoughts.

It was a long, and arduous three minutes he sat there thinking about who Twitchpatch may possibly be now that he knew about Childe. How the fuck did he even know who it was? A familiar of his, maybe? But not that many people know about Narukami coffee shop unless someone who did told someone else.

And if they did...then there's also a limited amount of people. He didn't know what to think...until it hit him. Why would Twitchpatch, a news source, know about an indie coffee shop if they weren't also from Inazuma..?

And once he came to that conclusion as the cup was near his lips ponderingly, a feminine voice called, "I didn't think you'd be early."

His heart dropped to his stomach in an instant, his eyes slowly lifting up to meet the woman's voice. There, standing before him, was a sight that he never thought he'd be able to see again in his entire lifetime. Time stopped for him, and he slowly began to look mortified once he realized...

"What the fuck, Makoto." Scaramouche's voice cut through the air, sharp and accusatory. He almost lost it, if it weren't for her softer expression evening out.

"Hey, Kuzu." Makoto said with a softer tone, sitting down in front of him hesitantly. "I thought I wouldn't feel anything out of this, but...it's different when it's you."

"Fuck you." He snapped, his eye almost twitching from how many emotions were going through him in the moment. "Ei said you left us. You made that decision on your own."

"You're missing a lot of the story."

"And even with that in mind, I didn't do shit to you for you to play fake fucking journalist." He pointed. "Yeah, forgot about that little detail? The lie you capitalized off in humor of both of our downfalls? They're scattering to find a way for me to clear the controversy right now because of you."

"Is that not what Ei wanted? Controversy all of the time?" Makoto raised an eyebrow, sitting back in the chair. "It wasn't my desired effect, trust me."

"Yeah? That wasn't what you wanted to happen? I thought you were the one to always think about what you do before you do it. I guess. Fucking. Wrong." He seethed, his teeth grinding into each other. "I should narc on you right now."

Makoto's expression softened, and she reached out tentatively, her hand hovering in the air. "Please, just listen to me for a second."

"Why should I?" He recoiled. "I'm not even mad about what you did to me. But you had no place bringing other people into this. You don't get to waltz back in to my life after doing all of this and act like what you did was some sort of poetic justice. That's not how this works."

"I had no intention on it." Makoto sighed, her shoulders slumped as her eyes narrowed away from him. "Listen...Ei and I had a bad argument before I left. I felt like she was starting to change after all of this and she denied all of it and threatened me. I can't save a dying group if its leader isn't open to criticism."

He scoffed, bitterness tainting his tone. "And you only decided to tell me about this after you left me clueless? About where you were after you fucked off and went off the radar without a word? Are you not essentially just doing what she did?"

"I never said that what I did was okay!" Makoto frowned. "This meeting is harder than I thought it'd be...I wanted to figure out a way I could get you out of there as quick as possible, but I didn't have a way at that time. I was reckless...and it lead to this. If I had the ability to rally up more capable people for the job, I would. But this is all I've got. And you shouldn't be okay with how you're being treated there just because of what I did."

He knew that he wanted to clap back at her again, but he knew she was right in that accord. He chewed at the inners of his mouth, staring at her with an intense gaze.

"You lost the spark in your eyes, Kuzu." She said, "I've seen your streams. You're not even happy doing it, it's like there's nothing there. Why do you do them, in that case?"

"I didn't lose it." He corrected.

"Every time your stream, it feels like you're not passing time. You don't want to be there, and not many people can see it, but you used to look different...more lively." Makoto observed, "It feels like I'm looking at a carcass of what that used to be. You don't eat much, you don't sleep with what I've seen. You always seem like you're worried about something. It's disheartening. Excuse me for thinking of a way out for you."

He sighed fiercely at her, "What do you want from me? What do you want me to do about it?" He had trouble looking into her eyes. "You really...really fucked with me, Makoto."

Makoto sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their shared history hanging heavy in the air. But amidst her own regrets, she stood up after a second and gave a small smile. "You should stop, this isn't good for you. You're...like, deep frying your own brain at this point."

"How do you know what's good for me?" He bit back one last time before feeling his confidence weaken. "You don't even know a thing about me these days."

Her smile didn't waver at his words anymore, she gave him a light pat on his head in mild comfort before stepping back. "Stop streaming, Kuzu." She said, "And if it makes you feel better, air everything out. It's the least you could do for all that she made you do, right? I'm sorry I won't be there beside you to see it."

That light pat was something that he hated, but at the same time, haven't gotten the chance to be granted in ages. He never gave people the chance to get too close to him after all of this, nor even give them the reason to in the first place. It was bittersweet, his heart swelled with the same confusion and kindness Makoto gave him back them.

He wanted to prove her wrong, but he knew it was beyond his pride to keep her by his side. Even with how aware she was that she was right about him. Looking at her after a while, she could tell from his eyes that he was hurt. "I'll see you again sometime, okay? Reconcile with that (Y/N) if you ever get the chance; you seem to like them anyway beyond all the fake news."

She left as quick as she came, and with Scaramouche's previous arrogance and general disposition. He didn't know what to do anymore.

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @kunisnaomi

@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3

@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith

@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan

@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123

@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway

@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw

@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari @suniika @littlesliceofcheese @liuaneee

@franaby @tiddieshakeshownu @mimi3lover (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

#zoropookie #hhab #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin #genshin impact #genshin smau #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #genshin x yn #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x you

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mochinomnoms · 1 day

Note

Yuri-is-online has this ask about summoning past versions of certain characters and i think that you should know about a middle school Floyd completely being unfiltered with yuu while the octotrio/twins are embarrassed because it is leaving a bad impression on their crush

(sent this here because idk how yuri feels about poly stuff)

BUT IT WOULD BE SO CUTE SEEING THEM GET FLUSTERED AHAHAHSHA

*fanboying*

-Vaquita 🐄

I think I know which posts you're talking about, but it's been a hot sec since I read them. I think that a younger Floyd would be a menace just for the sheer fact that he'd clock in on older Floyd's crush on you, and cause problems on purpose. We're talking about pulling pranks on older Floyd to make him pissed off and yell at younger Floyd, only for you to walk in and have little Floyd run to you crying about how older Floyd is "so mean! I was just trying to play! He said he was gonna squeeze me til my eyes pop! Don't let him!"

Younger Floyd is clutching at you as he "sobs" and takes in you coddling and cooing at him like you would your own child. Older Floyd is pissed, Younger Floyd is sticking his tongue out at him, and you're none the wiser.

The others I think depends on how bratty you want the younger versions to be. I think a younger Jade would be more outwardly snide and bratty, though he tries not to be. He's very good at giving you puppy eyes and enjoys any attention you give him. A younger Azul I think would be much more quiet, shy, and clingy with older Azul, actually. He's scared, and he's not this suave person that older him seems to be, but Older Azul talks about you so fondly when it's just the two of them, so maybe you're not so bad. Older Azul is actually more likely to use the younger him to his advantage, noticing how much you call him cute (though neither of them agree with your sentiments). If you think of him as so cute, then he might as well use that to see him as a doting future spouse, one that can take care of any future kids you two might have! Younger Azul is not amused and would rather not be the center of attention between you two.

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #floyd leech #jade leech #azul ashengrotto #vaquita anon #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader

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reallyromealone · 1 day

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How about part 4 to bakugos brother. The plot has thicken. 🙃🫰🏼

Title: bakugos brother

Fandom: bnha

Characters: bnha ensemble

Fic type: series

Chapter: 4

Pairings: kirishima x male reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, angst, reader is awkward, broken sibling relationship, reader is siblings to Katsuki, hurt to comfort, neglectful parents

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Name) And Kirishima went upstairs as Aizawa sat in the livingroom with the Bakugo parents, (name) looking surprisingly nervous as he went to his room.

"Whatever he did we will pay for" Mrs. Bakugo started and Aizawa raised his hand to stop her "I'm actually here on behalf of U.A to extend an invitation for your son to attend the general studies program as we have recently opened a spot in that class post sports festival" Aizawa began and watched their reactions carefully, Mr. Bakugo seemed curious and a bit excited at the concept of his son having the experience but Mrs Bakugo seemed... Less thrilled "would that affect Katsuki?" She asked simply and Aizawa raised an eyebrow at her statement.

"The two would be in completely different programs, how on earth would that affect Katsuki?" Mr Bakugo said simply and the blond woman glared without any bite at her husband "Principal Nedzu is particularly interested in his intelligence quirk and would like to talk about it when we do the transfer if you are willing to agree"

And the color drained from their faces.

(Name) And Kirishima cuddled on (name)s beanbag chair, a massive thing that was (name)s first purchase as (name) watched kirishima play a phone game "so you're just building and adventuring?" (Name) Seemed intrigued but also deeply confused at the game "yeah, it's a sandbox game-- you can do basically anything"

"Are there animals?"

"Oh a bunch, they actually just updated the dogs so they have more variety"

"Show me"

"And how would he be able to afford it?" Mrs Bakugo said coldly and Aizawa resisted the urge to roll his eyes "U.A has offered (name) a full scholarship" Mr Bakugo seemed excited at this "really?!" The man seemed over the moon at this but his wife less thrilled "I told you to let him apply!" He said almost angrily and Aizawa looked between them "but the chances of katsu--"" you need one parents approval right?" He cut her off to look at Aizawa who nodded "then you have my approval"

"Masaru!" Mrs Bakugo said angrily and the man looked at her seriously "if we don't do this for our son, we will fail more than we already have"

"Kirishima, time to go" Aizawa said simply and looked at (name) "I expect to see you at U.A Monday with your things packed" the pro said and it took the teens a second to process it all before kirishima grinned at his boyfriend "Yo! We get to hang out all the time now!"

"I get to go?"

"Yup, now better pack, you got a week before you start, Nedzu wants a meeting first thing tomorrow"

"YOU GUYS ARENT GONNA BELEIVE THIS!" Kirishima shouted as he walked into the livingroom area and the others looked confused "my boyfriend got into U.A!" He boasted and Bakugo turned to look at his best friend confused "what." Bakugo said flatly and Kirishima grinned "yeah man! Your brother's gonna be in gen Ed!" Everyone looked at bakugos reaction curiously as many emotions passed his face before just grunting and turning back to his phone.

(Name)s week at home was tense with his mom but his dad always had his back, always making sure he was cared for and the parent who made an effort, he was (name)s rock.

"Just don't get in your brother's way"

Words he heard constantly up until his dad drove him to U.A, giving him an envelope with money "I'll be sending you weekly allowances... I know you have money of your own but that's your money, this is for any emergency things you need" he said softly and (name) took the envelope quietly "I'm sorry that I haven't been enough for you, I know I could do more"

"Mom's a hard person, I know you feel guilt but I know that she doesn't make it easy and you have been there when it counts and stuck up for me so I could be here... I love you dad"

"I love you too kid, now go be stronger than I am"

The two embraced before the man helped (name) get everything into his dorm, kirishima showing up to help "so you're the boy my son's seeing! A pleasure to meet you" (name) smiled as the two greeted and got along very well "yeah! I'm also bakubros best friend!" He said excitedly and Mr. Bakugo had a small sliver of hope that this young man could bridge the two siblings... It was wishful thinking but he always had hope.

Hope that somehow the relationship his wife ruined would be fixed.

(Name) Didn't sleep well the first night, awkward in the new environment and the sudden shift from what he was used to.

Tomorrow he would get an introduction course under Nedzu, the rat wanted to do some tests to truly know what level he was at to gauge where they should move towards education wise.

Things were awkward during lunch as (name) sat alone, everyone hearing about Nedzu's private student and avoided him as such but (name) just played chess on his little travel chess set in the corner, periodically eating his food.

He had an hour to kill, might as well look for any weaknesses in his plays.

"There you are!" (Name) Looked up to see his boyfriend and other 1A students who looked curiously "Aizawa said we got to have lunch at the same time!" The Bakugo siblings locked eyes and (name) offered a seat to his boyfriend who plopped beside him with a grin "so you play chess, what's that like?" The pink girl named Mina asked excitedly and (name) was shy as he responded "a lot of travelling, I been throughout Japan for openings" he said softly "how many have you won?" A blond boy named denki asked and (name) looked a little more confident "I haven't lost, so maybe 50, I have been playing professionally since I was 9"

"Whoa... What do you get if you win?" He asked and (name) thought "the U.A open won me about 100k... But that was the open to let me qualify to international opens but my dad worries I might be too young for that" he said simply and the others looked shocked at the price and did the math "damn you're rich"

Katsuki didn't know this, how many games his brother went to between school and such or how good he was at it, he didn't think about it much but now...

... He kind of felt envious that his best friend knew more about his brother than he did.

The bakusquad asked all sorts of questions throughout lunch and eventually a few more 1A students joined and Momo even planned a chess match between her and (name) for fun.

And for the first time, Katsuki saw his brother look genuinely happy talking to people, typically he didn't talk to people.

It was nice to see.

#bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #mha x male reader #mha x reader #kirishima x male reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou #male reader #x male reader #angst #anime x male reader #anime x reader

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iwriteyanderes2023 · 13 hours

Text

Yandere Socialite (Fem! Yandere x Fem! Reader)

Divider credits: @/anitalenia

Trigger warning: Violence, drama between friends, profanity usage, yandere themes, name-calling, sexual harassment, power abuse. Choking, pet play, humiliation, drugging, sexual scenes, bondage play, female on female

(8941 words)

You regretted agreeing to this.

Your friends were raving about this massive party, where all the hottest celebrities and the wealthy go to flaunt or make a fool out of themselves. Obviously, it was an exclusive event, no mere commoners could simply walk in. To enter, it's either paying an extravagant fee or be (in)famous enough. Which, you were neither.

They claimed to know how to sneak in, undetected by the burly bouncers that you would rather not be the receiving end of their anger. It made sense to have some tight security, it is taking place in someone's mansion; someone's home, after all.

You, being new in this city and desperate to make connections to you could advance your career, said yes. You stupidly said yes, put on your best clubbing outfit and makeup, and went through with your friend's plan to slip in through one of the back doors while the other distracted whoever was around to hinder the plans.

Which leads you to be lost in a seemingly unending maze of hallways, you don't know where the other girls went and you don't know where you are. There wasn't a single soul wandering around the carpeted floor and chandeliered ceilings. Elegant paintings of men and women in dignified poses seem to peer at you in disgust; a filthy commoner dressed like a tramp. You didn't belong here, and it's only a matter of time before you were thrown into jail thanks to the recorded footage from the surveillance cameras you're sure were pointed at you.

You covered your arms with your hands as you moved onward, cussing under your breath about how silly it was to wear a ridiculously tall heel. It's already giving you blisters, so you decide to take them off and walk barefoot; silently and dryly sobbing about how humiliating this feels.

You continued trundling on, periodically looking back and trying to see where the life of the party is at so you could at least witness how it's like. Perhaps make a few connections, but you think that's unlikely. Most of them are probably drunk out of their mind or high off coke to care.

Actually, what are you even doing here? You're supposed to be networking at a classy, evening soiree, not a rich boy's messy party!

Before you could sigh again, you were interrupted by the sounds of yelling in a room nearby.

"Get off me, fucker!" You heard an enraged feminine voice shout out before the sounds of crashing reached your ears. Groaning could be heard as you assume the other party was shuffling to get up.

"You fucking bitch!" Retorted a masculine voice, followed by more stumbling. "What the hell is wrong with you!?"

"We're over. Get the fuck out of my sight!" She yelled, but it doesn't sound like she was too hurt over it. It's more anger if anything.

"What...? Just like that?! After everything that I've done-"

"All you did was embarrass me over and over again! Like, does it kill you to take a shower? Does it kill you not to be an entitled, gross loser all the time?"

You inched closer to the door and discreetly poked your head in. You saw the back of a woman with the most gorgeous blond hair draping down to her tailbone. She's wearing a silver sequin dress that barely covers the fold of her bum.

The male, slightly drunk and injured from the shove with debris around him, was glaring at the blonde.

"Shut up, slut! If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't get to live like this!" He threateningly pointed at her, but she didn't budge.

"Oh? You mean that monthly allowance of fifty bucks from you? Please, I pick up my dogs' crap with it. That's how worthless you are to me, I'm only tolerating you because I'm doing your mommy a favour." She fought back, her words enraged the man even further.

"You can forget the deal our families had! I'll make sure the Maciovelli name goes to shit, you will be living on the streets before you know it!" He yelled right in front of her face, getting up close and personal; and having his stray spit hit her. She merely wiped them away.

"Ugh, you're insufferable. Whatever, I'd like to see you try, bitch." She hissed before shoving him away again.

But this proved to be a dangerous move, as it provoked the man to lunge and swing his arm at her. Luckily though, it seems she has predicted it and dodged his attack on time.

You had to do something! And so, you looked around as the pair went on to physically fight. Though, it's more like she's doing all the defense while he does the offense. Sometimes blocking his hits with her red handbag.

There is a vase nearby, decorated with intricate, hand-painted flowers. Without thinking, you picked it up and chucked it at the man. The antiquity of that piece of art be damned, that woman is in danger and you have to do something to help her!

She visibly jolted when it flew past some strands of gold and crashed onto her assailant's head, spraying shards everywhere and making small cuts on her legs. He was thrown backward and rendered unconscious almost immediately.

The woman whipped her head back to see the source of it, staring at you with wide, baby-blue eyes. You stared back at her breathtakingly stunning face; she had thin, sharp brown eyebrows that accentuated her fox-like eyes. Long, black eyelashes framed her iris as smokey makeup made her eyes look much bigger and lively. Her lips were glossy and in a shade of pastel pink, with a dusting of sparkly glitter.

You stammered, not knowing what to do or say. You're not even supposed to be here. So you remained silent as you and her continued this staring contest, the woman's eyes were scrutinizing you from head to toe.

She began walking towards you, her heels menacingly clicking against the marbled floor of that room. You felt a surge of panic course through you, so you took a few steps back.

Only to be grabbed by the shoulder by someone else behind you. Chills ran down your spine when you heard the familiar sound of a walkie-talkie beeping. "I found one of the trespassers."

You started panicking even more, speaking erratically to try and defend your case. But the security officer wouldn't hear it, instead restraining you and pulling you away from the scene. You thrashed and screamed, not wanting to get caught and end your life as soon as it started. "I need backup!" Shouted the guard into his device as he tried to wrangle you into his grip.

You shouldn't have agreed to them, look what it has gotten you into. Your life is so over, you're going to be shoved into a jail cell and forced to move back to where you came from. If only you could-

"Hey, you fatass!" You saw her red, crescent handbag whack the officer in the arm, he flinched in surprise. "Hands off my best friend! And who the fuck do you think you are, calling her a trespasser!?"

A look of surprise crosses his face. "Miss Maciovelli? She's with you?" The officer took a look at you, there wasn't an aura of money emanating from you, not like how the woman was.

You looked back at the woman, now putting her hands on her hips. An irate expression adorns her face, "Um, yeah? I just said it, are you fucking slow? Let her go right now!" She demanded, raising the volume of her voice as her patience was running thin.

He sighed and released his hold on you. The man brought his walkie-talkie up to his mouth and said that it was a false alarm and that there wasn't a need for more of them to come over. They should focus on finding the rest of the intruders, which you can guess that they were referring to your friends.

"I'm sorry, Miss Maciovelli-"

"Yeah, you better be." She spat as she hooked her arm around yours. "Insulting my girl like that- why don't you all actually do your jobs and kick the real troublemakers out? Like that pig there, taking a nap on the floor. He tried to hit me and my best friend!" The blonde pointed her ivory-white acrylic nail to her bleeding ex, who seemed to be slowly regaining consciousness.

His eyes widened as he seemed to recognize the waking man. "O-oh! That's-!"

Before he could finish his sentence, the woman dragged you away from the scene. Pushing you by the shoulders and pulling you by the hand. You looked behind you to see the security guard entering the room while frantically speaking into his walkie-talkie.

"You're new. What's your name?" You were snapped out of your frazzled trance when she spoke. Her pace was slowing into a leisurely walk when she deemed it safe enough. The blonde's arm was still linked around yours, though.

Her baby blues curiously stared at you, all that malice and rage she held earlier was gone. Replaced with friendliness with a bit of wariness.

You told her your name and stumbled over your words trying to explain your situation as fast as possible. You made sure to thank her for saving you.

"Your friends are gross for abandoning you like that." She scowled. "I hate fake bitches like them, they should like, get shot in the head or something."

Your mouth gape open at her extreme remarks. Is this how socialites usually talk?

You defended your friends, telling her that they didn't abandon you. They probably just lost you as everyone scrambled to hide from security.

"Yeah, you're definitely new here. They knew what they were doing. You came with five others, at least one should be hiding from security with you." She brought you into a grandiose bathroom. The blonde finally lets you go and approaches the vanity. "Those sluts used you."

Miss Maciovelli pulled a tube of lip gloss from her mini handbag and began doing touchups. You simply watched her, not knowing what to say. Well, you should have seen it coming. Big city dwellers are known to be cutthroat, and you just met them.

"Sorry babe, but that's the reality here." She smacked her lip and wiped away any imperfections with her thumb.

You scratched the back of your head. You asked her if she could show you the exit, it's been a long night and you want to go home.

"You don't wanna stay for a little?" She asked, turning to you. "You're hot, I'm sure you'll have fun. I'll get rid of those snakes for you, if that's what's holding you back."

You shook your head, feeling exhausted after everything you went through today. You asked her if she's going back to the party, wherever that may be in this mansion.

"Duh." She bobbed her head.

There was a pregnant pause between the two of you. Until she decided to fish her phone out.

"Number." She extended her hand and brought her phone, numpad side to you.

You picked it up and entered your phone number. It's saved under your name, but you doubt that she will remember you after today.

"Oh, so that's how you spell it." She mumbled, looking at the contact name.

You watch her keep her device away before fixing her hair in the mirror again. She used a nail to adjust her eyelashes.

"Okay, let's go." She linked her arm around yours again, escorting you out of the bathroom.

You and she walked past numerous rooms and halls, some had excited shouts coming from them, some had salacious moaning and some had loud booming music. When you were nearing the core of the alcohol-fueled rave, the noise from massive speakers was nearly unbearable. You even had to cover your ears in order not to blow your drums out. But the woman didn't even flinch, she continued strutting along with you in tow.

You saw men and women feverishly dancing along to the beat, the surroundings were dark and illuminated by colorful strobe lights. Good thing you weren't epileptic.

"Heyy..."

You turned your head to see one of your friends. She's wasted beyond belief. "You... you made it! C'mere, I want you to meet-"

"Fuck off, whore!" Barked Miss Maciovelli, she yanked you along with her. Ignoring the expletives coming out from your friend's slurring mouth.

You asked if that was really necessary.

"Yep. They won't get the hint if you're this nice." She answered. "They'll keep trying until you're dragged down to their level. Don't ever disrespect yourself like that." She sternly warned you.

All you could do was nod meekly.

Eventually, you reached the exit. It's as grand and fancy as it was on the inside. You see a massive water fountain in the middle of a looped road. Yet, no cars could be seen but there were hoards of security milling around.

"Wait here." She left you on the marble steps as she approached a uniformed staff member. You watched them exchange some words before she marched back to you.

You thought that this was the end of your meeting with her. So you told her thanks and bid her goodbye while referring to her as Miss Maciovelli. She scrunched her nose up in disgust.

"Ew. That's so fake. Don't call me that." She crosses her arms over her chest, and you can see pale tan lines on her skin.

You asked what you should call her instead.

"Mercedes." She replied immediately. "You know, the car."

You told her that it's a beautiful name. She smiled and flipped her hair.

You told her that you better get going, it's late. Mercedes narrowed her eyes at you and grabbed your wrist.

"And how are you going to do that? It's an hour's drive from here to the city."

You said you were going to take the bus, that's how you got here in the first place. Worst come to worst, you would call a cab.

She shook her head defiantly.

"I'm driving you home, no way am I trusting those weirdos to bring you anywhere."

You told her that you would be fine and that you didn't want to be a hassle. To that, she rolled her eyes.

"Ugh, shut up." Mercedes punched your arm playfully.

A hot pink convertible then rolled up in front of the two of you. Its headlights are heart-shaped, you thought it was cute. "Miss Maciovelli?" Said the parking Valet.

"C'mon, don't be difficult." She urged you to get in through the passenger's side.

"This is your place?" She asked with a tone of incredulity. "Looks... plain."

You wouldn't call it plain. It's small but cozy. It's also all you can afford at the moment with your job, that's why you were planning to network around to get better opportunities.

"Hm." She hummed, releasing her grip on her pink, fluffy steering wheel to fix her hair.

You got out of her car and said goodbye. She didn't say a word but watched you get to the front door.

You look behind you to see her staring, so you wave bye. But she neither budged nor returned the gesture. Simply staring at you like a hawk. Feeling a bit creeped out, you went into the lobby.

Only then did she drive away. What a strange woman.

You sighed and trudged to the lift, pressing the button and resting your forehead on the cold, metallic panel. Well. There goes your only contacts in the city, they're all not good for you.

You didn't even get to know Mercedes's number, so until she texts you first, you're completely alone.

The lift opened to reveal no one. As usual. You don't think you've seen your neighbors yet, thinking they're either avoiding you, extremely busy, or extremely reclusive. Or living in an entirely different timezone.

When you reached your room, you decided to boot up your computer. While waiting for it to be functional, you did something else; preparing the things you need for a relaxing bath and boiling some water for tonight's five-star dinner: instant noodles.

You spent the night researching Mercedes, only searching her first name predictably bringing up results of the luxury car brand with the same name. But as soon as you searched for Mercedes Maciovelli, you began learning a lot about her.

She is the heiress of a very successful, multi-billion conglomerate company. Her family owns more businesses than you can count in two hands, they're also huge and famous companies. Banks, grocery stores, and even planes. It's scary how her family possesses this much power. That was such a silly thing for her ex to say, that if it wasn't for him, she would have been in poverty. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment.

However, she is no stranger to paparazzi as she frequently mingles with high-profile celebrities, gets into physical altercations, and goes wild in nightclubs. She is nothing like what was expected of her as someone who grew up in "old money". She's associated with words like "bitchy", "fiesty", "trashy" and "Messy". Whereas her peers barely have any information available about them online, they stay out of trouble and act too elegant for the paparazzi and tabloids to take any interest.

The most interesting bit about Mercedes was her dating life. Your eyes bulged out of your skull, seeing the seemingly unending list of boyfriends she had over the years. It's almost like she has a new one every month, but there are never repeats. Articles, gossip pieces, and smear forums about Mercedes are just so prevalent, that you think you're getting a cramp on your finger by just scrolling your mouse.

In the end, you're sick of seeing the public bash the blonde. It gets old and you're becoming tired. Perhaps aging has already caught up to you, but you cannot stay up past 12.

You decided to shut your computer off and head to bed.

It's been a few days since that party. Your "friends" kept texting you, trying to get you to join one more of their trespassing escapades. You gave them excuses upon excuses because you're not interested in such a lifestyle.

"Aw, don't be such a lame-o," Drawled one of the girls as she shook your shoulder. "Come on, it'll be fun! You had fun!"

The other girls continued egging you on in this expensive cafe. You were already uncomfortable meeting them here, as you can barely afford the cheapest of their pastries. At least the ambiance looks amazing in photos. If only you owned a digital camera...

You let out a nervous chuckle as you tried to decline as much as you could without offending them.

"There's another one tonight! You should totally come with us, I got like, the routes and everything already!"

"Yeah, think of the cute guys that's going to be there!"

"OMG, I heard Retro Rhymes are going to be there!"

"Really!? The rapper!?"

You sighed as they chatted amongst themselves. You silently picked at your muffin with your fork, that was the cheapest thing on the menu and the price was enough to give you eight of these back home.

Eventually, they must have forgotten your existence. Because they continued talking until they left the building. Not saying a bye or sparing a glance in your direction. Leaving you to sit at your table alone and brooding.

Well. You shouldn't expect much when it comes to friendships here. Many people come to the city solely to make money and have fun, after all. Not so much finding true, lifelong connections.

You took a sip of your black coffee. Again, the cheapest thing you could get from there. You couldn't even afford sugar or milk with it.

Suddenly, a manicured hand slammed a cup onto your table, shocking you and making you accidentally spill some of your drink onto your blouse.

"You should try this, it's so good. Way better than your boring-ass black coffee, I bet." You recovered from your initial shock to crane your head up to see Mercedes staring down at you from above, her soft, golden hair falling to your face.

You greeted her, asking what she was doing here.

"I could ask the same of you, seeing that you're pretty broke. But I saw how you still hung out with those sluts even after I told you not to." She cocked an eyebrow as an unimpressed look crossed her face.

Today, she wears a simple, lacey crop top and a pair of low waisted jeans. You got to know that she had her belly button pierced.

You sighed once more, burying your face in your hands. You told her you don't have a choice, it's a cold world out here and you need someone to fulfill that human need for socialization. Now that you have calmed down, you decided to take a better look at the drink she gave you.

It's a tall, plastic cup with a dome cover. It's an ice-blended, creamy mocha with chocolate syrup drizzled on the sides of the cup. It has a healthy dollop of whipped cream on top and a thick straw is sticking out of its opening.

"Um, hello? You have me." She moved away from you and took a seat next to you, she ordered the same thing. Mercedes shook it around before taking a sip. "You don't need them anymore, I'll be showing you the ropes."

You thought about it for a while. There is definitely a non zero chance that she will play you like a fiddle, but it's much better to have someone high up there in the hierarchy. Even though she isn't necessarily a mature businesswoman yet, you would still have a better chance to brush shoulders with relevant people. Not... Partygoers.

So then, you agreed. Picking up your cup and taking your first sip.

It was tooth-rotting. It was good, but you knew if it wasn't for sugar, this cup would not even be filled to half. The sheer sweetness of the treat made you grimace and pucker.

"What? Don't like it?" She asked, looking bored.

You said it was nice, but a bit too sweet.

"That's the point. I like it sweet." She took another sip from her drink. "Keeps me full for hours."

You... Don't think that's how it works. Isn't it usually the opposite effect? Whatever.

For the next few hours, you and her chat about almost everything and anything. Ranging from each other's histories, to each other's interests, to oddly philosophical questions and personal views on things. There were quite a few differences between you and Mercedes- obviously so, as she was raised by the uber rich and you were raised by... Your guardians, but you liked how she kept her mind open and was non-judgemental about you.

It was refreshing, really. Someone you could somewhat be real with, unlike your previous set of friends where you had to put on the most guarded mask in order not to feel like a pathetic lowlife around them.

You were curious about her dating habits, but you think it's rude to ask about it this early on in the friendship. Plus, it never came up, so you decided to save that question for another day. You bet if she's willing to open up, it will take more than just a few hours.

It's getting late, you should leave.

So you stood up, secretly in disbelief at how you finished the entire thing of diabetes. You told Mercedes that you have work tomorrow and you're going to need to leave soon.

She frowned. "Boo. Boring."

You said that you have to be "boring", you don't have her type of money.

"And it's literally just six in the evening. It's not like it's six in the morning or something." She huffed.

You said you have been in this cafe for seven hours.

"They don't close til 10."

Still, you have to get back home. You're tired.

She stuck her tongue out at you.

"Fine. But I'm driving you home."

You said there isn't a need for her to do that, you could take the bus.

"Let's go, you need your beauty sleep." She ignored you and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you along with her so quickly that you struggled to keep up.

Weeks would go by and you would meet Mercedes every Sunday in a different cafe of her choosing. And these meetings would increase in frequency each week, to a point where you were eating all three meals with her daily. She would always foot the bill and refused to let you pay for anything, talking about how you're so poor, that you're probably fighting rats for the scraps at the bottom of the dumpster. It's an absolute win for you; no cooking involved and you haven't eaten instant noodles for months now.

The five girls you originally started off with seem to lose interest in you, they never texted or called you again. And when you did bump into any of them, they would pretend not to know you.

It's extremely obvious that they're avoiding you for some reason, maybe it's because they've seen you buddying up with Mercedes: one of their sworn enemies and one of the most feared figures in this city.

It's... Surprisingly sad. Knowing that the friendship was doomed from the beginning didn't change the feeling of isolation and hurt in you. But at least you gained something that resembled a friend.

Mercedes would gradually increase the frequency of her texts and calls, hitting you up whenever she's bored out of her mind.

"Stop working letz go shopping"

"U r SO going blind in ur 30s"

"nerd :-P"

"im boreddddddddddddd"

"go clubbing with moiiii"

"letzzz goooo"

"stop ignoring me :-("

These were just some of the few text messages you would frequently receive, blowing up your phone even when you're in a meeting. You would usually need to turn it off entirely to keep yourself quiet.

But yes, you would go shopping with her. Mercedes seem to have a kick out of spoiling you with clothes, jewelry and other things you can only dream to buy.

You didn't like trying on clothes, because Mercedes would barge into your changing room however and whenever she liked.

"What's the big deal? We're both girls." That was what Mercedes would say when she slips into the cubicle, while you're mid-change without any warning. Of course, you would react negatively to that, especially since you don't know her that well.

In the end, though, you would just give up and let her come in. It's not like you could stop her and she isn't doing anything too weird... Aside from her vaguely longing stares at your partially or completely unclothed body. She would almost be in a trance, staring unblinkingly for long periods of time until you snap your fingers in front of her face. She just claims that you're just too hot for anyone to handle.

Mercedes would contact you via your phone, asking if you would want to go clubbing with her, or if you would want to be her plus one to an event. And each time, you would say no. And each time, she would whine about how lame you are but never pushed too far.

A temporary boyfriend would take your place, only for her to break up with them the next day and appear in another tabloid for some scandalous fighting or dating. When you asked her about it, she would get moody and irritable. She would rant about her feelings and problems with the world at large, finding the dating pool now repulsive and general standards insanely low.

"Ugh! Can you believe that he said that to me?"

You would have to nod, it would end her ranting faster. It's always the same phrase over and over again, with slight variation.

"I wish men were just like you, I would find it so fucking easy to commit to a guy. But they're not, so I rather shit my hands and clap. Oh my god, he was so pathetic and gross."

You could recite her words at this point, you got it the first time that she wishes she could date a male version of you. Mercedes didn't have to repeat that every single time you and her met up.

For her sake and yours, you pray hard that she finds what she's looking for. You don't know how much more of her repetitive complaints you can take.

All your other attempts to network and make connections fail. As soon as any of them knew you were Mercedes's "bestie", they would either run for the hills or become actively hostile toward you. She has made a lot of enemies and you don't think she has any girlfriends... Only orbiters or those who tried to get her approval but secretly hated her guts. Or die-hard fans who don't see her as a human, but as an object, whether for better or for worse.

She kept them around, just because she could benefit from them. Mercedes would bring them along to some of your many shopping sprees with her just so they could carry heaps of heavy bags for the two of you. While you and her get to enjoy the day, completely unburdened.

It unsettled you how she treated them like lowly servants, or even more degradingly so, like dogs. And not like one of her spoiled Pomeranians, but mutts that are bred to work and live off scraps of attention. You could be having a spa day at the city's finest specialist, sipping on complimentary champagne, and having your hair done with products that you cannot even pronounce; Mercedes would make her lackeys wait outside. Yet, they appear happy about this treatment from her. Eagerly following Mercedes and by extension, you, wherever you go.

It didn't matter who you tried to befriend, Mercedes's opinion of them would remain constant: They're all two-faced liars who are out there to kick you when you're down. It never changed despite never even meeting them or you made them up. She's fiercely protective of you, and always assumed the worst of everyone, even her own relatives when they tried being cordial with you.

Of course, the friendship has blossomed to the point where you would have a slumber party at her multi-million mansion every Friday. You wouldn't even need to bring anything, she would have everything ready for you; clothes, toiletries, hairdryers- anything you need to survive from day to day, you would have a more luxurious version of it. She definitely has an affinity for bling, as the tops that Mercedes provides always have rhinestones decorating them.

You were living in opulence, a lifestyle that can only be seen on TV, in magazines, or in history books. It's jarring and almost dreamlike how you got to experience such things just by chance. You didn't have to work hard for it, you just need to endure a spoiled blonde's clinginess to receive all these. What a steal. You had maids and butlers that would await your every order, personal chefs to whip up something delicious in a second, and hunky pool boys to ogle at when you tan with her outside.

You just wished that Mercedes wasn't so touchy, though...

"Like, sunburn isn't cute. C'mon, don't be such a hardass, turnover." You would groan and do as you were told, laying flat on your stomach and adjusting your sunglasses. Mercedes would then squeeze a handful of white sunscreen on her palm, and begin rubbing onto your exposed back and legs.

She would always take her time running her hands over your skin, sensually massaging from the base of your neck and down to your bum. Her flesh would glide against yours, reaching all that she could touch and occasionally squeezing your cheeks down south. Whenever you complained, she would say:

"What? Not my fault you have a bubble butt. No one can resist giving a squeeze." And continues fondling you under the guise of preserving your youthful skin from the harsh sun rays. You would sigh, slumping your head down as Mercedes continued doing whatever she wanted. It's her house, her money, and her influence after all. You're just riding on it for free. And it's not like anything is going to be too weird, you and her are both girls!

"Okay, I'm done. My turn." She would hand you the bottle of sunscreen and flip herself over. It's undeniable that she has a body that even Aphrodite would be envious of, thanks to a combination of genetics, her lifestyle, and other procedures. Mercedes does put in work in her personal gym, toning her body and alluring men everywhere. Her bikini would leave very little to the imagination, but it made sense why she needed much more sunscreen.

"Make sure to get it on here too." She would purr, playfully wiggling her plump rear. This would usually prompt an eye roll from you and a giggle from her.

She's soft to the touch. And you knew that not because you would have to smear sunscreen on her, but because she would often cuddle with you. It didn't matter what you were doing, you could be stretching in her living room, and she would wrap her arms around your waist. You could be curled up on her fluffy sofa, watching a sitcom, and she would crawl up all over your space. You could be sleeping, and you would wake up to her being the big spoon. And she would have the audacity to whine about how you ruined her sleep by moving around.

But you must admit, she is comfortable to cuddle with. Especially when you rest your head on her voluptuous breasts, allowing yourself to sink into them and inhale her sweet, floral perfume. It would be heaven squared when she would rake her long, acrylic nails through your hair. Mercedes would let you twirl with her golden strands, playing with them between your fingers.

You think, maybe it's because she's just lonely and a big fan of physical touch. It must be exhausting to constantly think every single person in the world is out there to get you. But does she have to be so... gross?

"I just want it." Mercedes would whine, demanding that she wants your drink. You would ask her why, you also drank out of this straw anyway.

"I didn't like my order."

You pointed out that you ordered the same exact thing as her.

"They didn't make it right!"

You asked her what made her think they made yours right.

"They just do!"

You said it's just going to be the same thing. Why not throw hers away and order another one, seeing that she has near infinite amount of money?

She would groan in frustration and stomp her heels on the ground. "It tastes better after you drank from it, okay!? I don't know what it is about your... fucking saliva that makes something so mediocre, tastes so good. Now, gimme!" Mercedes would snatch it out of your hands and swapped it with her one.

You drank more than half of yours while Mercedes barely touched her cup. Well, more for you, you guess. At least everyone is happy.

This habit of hers would extend to utensils, you knew she would purposely drop her dessert spoon just to eat from yours. Mercedes would steal your clothes, claiming that your outfits are always cuter than hers, and she's jealous.

But she chose and bought you these clothes...?

You were so used to her antics, that one day, Mercedes gave you a new brand of gum to try. However, when it touches your tongue, you immediately grimaced as it was the most atrocious flavour ever.

"Whaatt? Are you fucking serious? That's like, my favourite flavour!" She would look at you in disbelief. And you would look at her in disbelief, because this was the first time seeing her buying this brand.

You told her that you wanted to spit it out, it's awful.

"Don't waste it!" She hit you on the arm. "Spit it in my mouth." Mercedes would part her lips wide and bring her face close to yours.

Without thinking, you expelled the partially chewed up candy into her orifice... which she gladly accepted and began chewing on it. Sucking whatever flavour that was left on, including your fluids.

"What are you talking about?" You could hear her obnoxious chews between words. "It tastes fine, you're so dramatic."

Upon realizing what you just did, you would shudder in disgust. Quickly walking away as if you're trying to run from the memory.

Soon after, Mercedes would permeate through every aspect of your life. It seems like she had a chat with her parents about offering you a job at one of their firms. A high standing one at that, too.

You obviously accepted it and resigned from your previous post. Now, THIS is what you're talking about. A prestigious job with unbelievable benefits and tasks that doesn't seem too hard for you to do. It's everything you wanted you achieve, ever since you arrived at the city.

Well, minus the fact that your bestie who got you this position would intrude your office every chance she gets and talk your ear off.

"Ughhh... this is so boring... Let's ditch this place and go somewhere fun." She would rest her head on your shoulder while shaking you by the arm.

You said you can't. You have work to do.

"Says who?"

You said your boss.

"Who's your boss?"

For the fifth time, you told her the name of your supervisor. But instead of complaining, she would storm out of your office. At first, you thought she would leave you alone, maybe she's tired of bugging you and got the hint that you're a responsible adult with adult jobs.

But, ten minutes later, she would be barrelling in with your boss in tow. She had him in a very unsavoury grip, her hands tightly clutching his sleeve.

"Tell her!" She demanded.

"Y-you're free to go. Someone else can cover for you."

Your eyes would widen, asking if this will affect your pay.

"Not at all. Don't worry, I will have this... agreement in writing. Please e-enjoy the rest of your day." He would then quickly excuse himself from the room, avoiding Mercedes's fiery glare.

You looked at her. How could she just do that?

"My Dad owns this company, duh. Anyways, less talk, more walk." She hooked her arm around yours and dragged you out of the office.

It's as if her father was paying you just to babysit his bratty, adult daughter. You barely get to do anything for the company! You don't even know what you were hired to do in the first place anymore.

It gets extremely suffocating being her best friend, you don't know anyone around except her. The staff in her mansion is always rotating, so you wouldn't see the same face twice. You barely remembered your supervisor's names, let alone any colleagues'. All your free time is robbed by Mercedes, she saturates every single second of your life. You don't remember not seeing Mercedes's pretty face on the daily, yet it's astonishing how she would get the paparazzi on her for constantly dating a new roster of boys each season and getting into catfights with other women. Where does she find the time to do that?

It's rubbing on you, now you begin to crave a boyfriend. A 'boy toy', as Mercedes would call it.

It shouldn't be too hard, you know that you're good-looking; you have the clothes, the hair, the makeup and you can always steal from your filthy rich best friend. Your bank account is a little chubbier now thanks to Mercedes. If you just put yourself out there, you're sure boys will flock to you.

But you shouldn't tell this to Mercedes, you get the vibe that she would be jealous that you're stealing the spotlight. You aren't trying to do at all, you're just curious to know what it's like to live like Mercedes for once.

So you had to do it secretly. You would always decline her requests to join her clubbing, preferring to favor sleep over drug-fuelled parties. But recently, you would cover up your eyebags with concealer just so you could introduce yourself to the market. It goes without saying, that you're not tagging along with Mercedes, you went on your own and told not a single soul.

And it was a success! You have never received so many free drinks from men before, you even witnessed some of them fighting over you, all physical and mock-macho. It was hilarious and flattering, but the other girls would avoid you like the plague and shoot you nasty looks your way. It's much worse than you expected it to feel, you feel... rejected, alienated, and ugly. Was this how Mercedes felt? Is that why she thinks all other women are out for her blood? Well, you understand it now. And some of the boys would be really creepy towards you, it doesn't feel so good on the soul knowing the people who defended you from those weirdos are also creeps themselves. They just wanted a piece of you as if you were just a slab of meat in a cage of hungry wolves.

Though, it would be a big, fat lie to say you didn't feel free. You felt the freedom that died on the day Mercedes took you under her wing. It tasted so sweet, you wanted more and more. You were so addicted, that you took illicit substances just to keep you awake for longer, to party until the sun rises.

You were leading a double life: As Mercedes's goody-two-shoes bestie in the day, a bad girl gone wild at night. Make out with whoever you want to, drinking as much as you want and shaking yourself to the beat of the music until you drop.

You knew Mercedes was suspecting something was up, but at this point, you give no shits. This is your life, and you get to live it.

It didn't last long, though.

There was one night in particular; you remembered that they had a massive disco ball in the middle of the ceiling, reflecting every ray coming out of the projector. It was deafening, the smell of booze and sweat nauseated you but you didn't notice. The DJ was bopping his head to the rhythm and scratching records using his fingertips. The patrons were doing their own thing, some were dancing like no tomorrow, some were locking lips and some were snorting lines. It was one of those types of parties, the one where you first met Mercedes. Except this time, you successfully snuck in without your ex-friends and finally found the core of the rave.

Your hair was frazzled and you had a few wardrobe malfunctions, but why should you be bothered by that? It's not like everyone around you were dignified at all, you blend in and that's all that matters to you.

The details were fuzzy, but you remembered wondering what it was like to make out with a woman instead. Men had pretty rough lips and they smelled like crap. Why not experiment? You're here anyways, and no one is going to recognize you- whatever happens in this mansion, stays in this mansion. Plus, you already have a willing participant next to you, who has been hitting on you all night.

Later in the dark, you became bold from a mix of alcohol and whatever glowing pill you took from a giddy stranger. You pulled her aside to somewhere secluded, the two of you were clearly hot and bothered, deeply eager to explore each other's bodies. Nothing else matters in this moment, other than to satisfy each other's needs.

She pulled you in by the neck, pressing her full lips against yours. And you were correct, it was soft, fragrant, and delicious. A thousand times better than kissing stinky boys. You closed your eyes and melted into her touch, sinking deeper and deeper into the kiss. She's on top of you, straddling your hips and your hands are rubbing all over her body. The woman, who you didn't even know the name of, trailed kisses from your jaw down to your collarbones. Her slender fingers began to stray from your chin and roam downwards until it was dangerously close to the hem of your panties. You let out a muffled moan as she let her tongue taste every corner of your mouth, neither of you could speak. And neither of you wanted to, words weren't necessary.

However, your ecstasy was cut short when your lover was yanked backward. Confused, your eyes immediately shot open at the first taste of emptiness... only to witness something scaringly horrific.

"Fucking slut! How fucking dare you, how fucking dare you touch my girl!" Shrieked Mercedes as she had an iron grip on your lover's hair with one hand, and another was whaling on her non-stop. She was screaming in terror as your best friend inflicted as much damage as she could on her face. Scratches, punches, cuts, she had done it all. Mercedes pulled clumps of hair out from her victim's scalp and dodged every attempt of her to fight back. She was fast, fueled with the purest distillation of rage you have ever seen, mascara streaked down her face as she shouted until her voice was hoarse. Blood splattered onto her light-hued hair, her outfit was ruined and no doubt, a thousand dollars worth of acrylic nails were ripped from her nailbed as she threw brutal punches.

You panicked, trying to break the fight up but Mercedes was entirely immersed in anger that she didn't care that she lost her natural nails along with her false ones. She's also bleeding, scarlet painted her fingertips, knuckles, and up to her wrist as she went on tormenting your lover with more hits and pummels. At this rate, Mercedes might just kill her!

You attempted to restrain her, but she was too strong, easily overpowering you just so she could beat your lover to death. There was so much hatred simmering in her heart for this one stranger, this one woman you're sure she's never met. Why!? Why her!? Why would Mercedes attack her unprovoked!?

The fight, which was one-sided ended a few minutes later when your lover stopped moving and was covered in gruesome welts. Her eyes were swollen shut and there was blood pooling around her from her nostrils, scalp, and lips.

"You."

Growled Mercedes. She was breathing heavily and all her strands were out of place. Tears were flowing down her bloodshot eyes as she trembled.

You were speechless, you quivered in fear as you looked on. In the end, all you could mewl out was a meek "Why?"

This caused her to wail, scream, and sob. She brought her injured fingers to her head and gripped her hair, letting out all her frustrations and agony before composing herself enough to form a coherent sentence.

"Fuck you, Whore! Fuck you!" She pointed at you, her shrill voice was making your ears hurt, but you're glad she wasn't biting them off instead.

You said you didn't understand what was going on, why was she so upset.

"You were into girls all along! I-I-" She sniffled, ungracefully wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. Soiling her face with her own blood.

"I'm... in love with you..." Her voice quietened as it wavers, Mercedes choked on her own tears as she confessed. "Why didn't you tell me...?" She gasped erratically as she cried. Suddenly, there was a spike in her emotions. "Why didn't you fucking tell me?!"

You took a few more steps backward as she lost control over herself again, she had to kick your already unconscious lover with her heels to calm herself down.

"I wanted you! I..." She let out one last bloodcurdling scream before lunging at you.

You tried evading her, but she was just too experienced in this. Within seconds, her hands are tightly wrapped around your neck; Choking them until blood rushes up your head. You clawed and clawed on her hands, but nothing worked. She was determined to kill you.

She gnashed her teeth as she choked the life out of you, her salty tears rolled down her cheeks, taking some concealer along with it showing that she also had severe dark bags under her eyes.

You started seeing spots, and your thinking became redundant as your brain shuts down from the lack of oxygen. Is this it? Your death? Killed by a nepotism baby with her bare hands?

You took one last look at her face, it was filled with pain and anguish.

You regretted agreeing to come to the city.

She was yearning for you, ever since she bought you that first drink. If you knew the depth of her twisted, obsessive love she harbors for you, running for the hills would have been your immediate reaction.

Mercedes cried herself to sleep almost every night, suffering from a heartache that could never heal itself as long as she knew you were straight. She knew that you would never share her feelings, because she was taught that everyone sees lesbians as freaks of nature.

She tried distracting herself with parties, boys, booze, and coke. But nothing worked, all she ever thought about was you, you, you. She loves you and wanted nothing but to be your lovely wedded wife. Oh, how she longs for a life where it's just you and her. And no one else.

Mercedes couldn't let you go, no way in hell. That's why she would scare off anyone who got too close to you for her liking, that's why she sent out hit after hit to eliminate the competition. Because if she can't have you, no one can.

But now...

"Sit."

You frowned, refusing to budge from your spot.

Mercedes pouted, she cupped your cheeks and stared deep into your eyes.

"Bad puppies don't get treats, you don't want to be a bad puppy, do you, baby?" She cooed in a babyish tone but with heavy condescension.

You couldn't speak, because there was a ballgag between your lips. Yet, you stayed still in defiance.

She narrowed her eyes at your disobedience.

"That's how you're gonna be, huh." Mercedes lets go of your face and sticks her hand into the pocket of her bathrobe. You heard a click, and soon you felt insane vibrations between your legs, it's coming from the vibe taped to your clit!

You let out a muffled yelp as the stimulation made you buckle to your knees, and eventually, you were on the floor, helpless as your hands were tied up behind your back. Juices leaked from your slit and onto the cold, smooth floors.

"Good girl~" She praised in a sing-song voice. Mercedes happily clapped her hands together.

Your eyes rolled back into your skull as you were about to be overcome by pleasure, but... the device suddenly stopped moving. Leaving you incomplete and agitated.

You whined and whimpered, wanting your rightful climax but Mercedes only smiled at your pathetic, squirming state.

"Aww, what's that? Puppy wants to cum?" You feverishly nodded, face burning from the degradation.

"Well, only good puppies get their pussy eaten. Are you a good puppy?" She rested her hands on her knees.

You nodded and let out a muffled yell.

"Roll over."

You tried your best to do that, but the frigid floor is stimulating you further.

"Play dead."

You lay still for a few seconds, your sex is still throbbing in arousal.

"Good girl, good girl!" She praised, giggling at you.

You whimpered, having tears bead from the corners of your eyes. You need that release so badly, it's starting to hurt.

"Mmm... you're so fucking hot..." She whispered as she slowly got down to the floor, slipping her hands between your inner thighs to remove the toy. Her pupils are dilating at the sight of your naked, dripping crotch. "I can't wait to eat you out. You always taste so fucking delicious." Mercedes brushed your puffy lips with her fingers.

"Open your legs."

She didn't have to tell you twice, you granted her full access.

"Good girl..." She purred before dipping her head down to drag her wet, pink muscle over your pussy.

You writhe as she tongue fucks you, lapping up everything and not letting a drop of your sweet, sweet nectar go to waste.

You would spend almost every waking second being 'trained' by Mercedes. Her treats are sex and the overstimulation of your pussy until you faint. You never knew that she was such a nymphomaniac, or maybe she just is that for you. Mercedes just couldn't get enough of your essence, so you're subjected to such treatment.

Well, at least you don't have to work anymore. You get to eat five-star meals and sleep in a mansion, and you get to binge-watch all your favorite shows guilt-free. All you had to be was Mercedes's pet and have her eat you out whenever she wants.

Her beloved Pillow Princess; was embossed in gold, on the hot pink collar around your neck.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 day

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AITA for talking about my ex?

i broke up with my ex about two months ago. he moved in with me a little less than a year ago (we'd been dating online for 2 years prior) and still lives with me, we're in my parents' house and i have no intention of getting him kicked out just to get that out of the way first.

i was a shitty partner, i'll admit that. he wanted more attention and more physical affection than i was willing to provide and it was taking a toll on both of us - i felt pressured into sex and other sorts of physical contact, ect ect you know the drill. during the relationship i talked a lot with a group of friends on discord. they were a big part of my choice to end things, i was constantly talking about feeling miserable and used which i thought was just normal relationship stuff and they disagreed to put it lightly.

my ex repeatedly told me not to mention him or anything he'd been doing during the relationship to anyone else and doubled down on that rule after our breakup. i lied and agreed that i wouldn't but doing so made me feel so much more trapped and isolated. i feel like a complete piece of shit for lying but i'm too much of a coward to tell him that, some of my friends said it was unfair of him to ask me to never talk about him in the first place but i'm not so sure. i really try not to be overly negative about him, i know i was a bad partner and i don't try to shift responsibility, but a lot of my friends still dislike him and i feel awful about it.

#aita #am i the asshole

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copperbadge · 2 days

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I went to the library this afternoon, intending to get a study room and do some work on the novel, but I got distracted and ended up spending the two hours working on a short story instead.

Georgie has said that Michaelis hired her after she rescued his friend's child from a kidnapping, and it was suggested to me recently that the friend could be Oliver McAllister, Michaelis's old school mate from Pirates of the Riviera. I was skeptical because the timing didn't quite work out, but I couldn't stop thinking about the idea, so I decided to try making it work.

And let me tell you, these messy bitches.

In 2015, Michaelis is deep in his Kingbot 3000 phase so he doesn't have to Have Feelings, and Gregory has coerced him into taking a vacation by threatening a coup. Meanwhile, Olly is fresh from his second divorce, from a woman who just tried to kidnap their child. Georgie is the most together person in the room and she's an unemployed twentysomething who just beat three men unconscious to prevent said kidnapping.

And the most amusing part to me is that because of how I set it up, Michaelis is just trying to be friendly but inadvertently keeps coming across like he's trying to seduce Georgie. Which also makes Georgie joking about trying to marry him for his money in Royals/Ramblers even funnier.

"Ma'am, the police would like to take a statement," Lael said to Georgie.

"I can have Lael find you a lawyer if you want," Michaelis added. She gave him a sardonic look.

"All right, let's get it over with," she sighed. "There goes my visit to the Musee D'Orsay."

"We'll give you the room. Olly, why don't you go in with your boy, so the police can speak with you if needed. Lael and I will be at the cafe next door when you've finished."

Georgie nodded, but he stopped as he passed her and put a hand on her arm.

"Come see us when you're done," he said quietly, ducking his head so the police at the doorway couldn't see their faces. "And cancel your job interview in London."

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"Stay in Paris. You can see the museum this weekend. The palace will cover your lodging and food."

"I...don't want to offend," she said slowly, "but I'm not -- "

"I'm not flirting with you," he said, realizing belatedly how it might seem to her, and taking his hand from her arm. She looked faintly relieved. "I'm going to spend the time you're giving a statement assembling a job offer for you with my security office. Any young woman who can spot a kidnapping before it happens and soundly beat three grown men should not be leaving Askazer-Shivadlakia to do a job she hates in London. Now, regardless of that, and I say this as a concerned friend, not as king or employer: be honest and helpful with the police, but...economical."

"Just the facts?" she asked.

"Exactly." He gave her an approving nod and followed Lael out. They were silent in the hallway and lobby, until they stepped out into the street and Lael exhaled.

"That was impressive," he said. "Young lady has a great right hook."

"She's certainly very alert," Michaelis agreed.

"It's been a long time since I've seen someone throw a punch like that."

"Say it and you're fired," Michaelis said good-naturedly. He'd known Lael since the head of security had been a young palace aide during Michaelis's first days as king -- if still years older than the king himself -- and he knew what was coming.

"Not since our last trip to Galia," Lael said, voice full of relish. "That time a young hothead punched Duke Tomas in the face."

"Utterly fired. I've found your replacement. I'm putting you out to pasture with no pension."

"You think she'd make a good successor to me?" Lael asked. He was joking but, simultaneously, he was not -- they were both getting older, and Lael was as aware as Michaelis that when a new king was elected in a few years, whoever it was, they would need someone younger, someone who could more easily keep up with them.

"You tell me," Michaelis said. "You're the expert."

"Oh, I've been fired, clearly my opinion isn't wanted," Lael said, as they settled into a table at the cafe, Lael with his back to the wall, eyes always scanning behind Michaelis. There had never, at least as far as Michaelis knew, been an attempt on his life, but he'd become used to never getting direct eye contact in public from the man whose job it was, after all, to watch his back.

"Fine, I withdraw your firing. I suspect purely on her ability to sass me, she is your equal if not your better," he added, as the waitress approached. He ordered coffee and pastries briskly, then turned back to Lael.

"Well, it's difficult to tell on two minutes' acquaintance," Lael replied, "but actions do speak louder than words."

"Agreed. Perhaps a contingent offer? She has a law degree; she could likely earn more than we could offer her for a job like yours, but I think she's looking for the right job, not the right pay. Say three months of probation with guaranteed six months of pay to ensure she takes it, and a firm permanent offer at the end if you approve? Conditions non-negotiable but a bit of wiggle room in the salary, I think."

Lael considered it, then nodded. "I suppose it's paranoia to imagine she might have arranged all this to get into the Palace employ."

"As what, a spy? I love a thriller novel, Lael, but they are fiction," Michaelis replied, amused.

#shivadhverse

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palmettoshenanigans · 2 days

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Usually I want to avoid discourse at all costs but like,,, if I don't say this once I'll explode

Riko is the prime example of the "I was treated this way so I'm going to treat others this way" abused to abuser pipeline.

Andrew is the prime example of the "I was treated this way so I refuse to treat others this way" abused to not abuser pipeline.

(And even those two above statements are dis-including nuance that I don't have time to dissect)

Every other character seems to lie somewhere on the spectrum of this idea. Neil lies closer to where Andrew lies. Grayson lies closer to where Riko lies. Etc etc. And their positions on that spectrum are not fixed points but rather dynamic positions based on their choices made every day of their lives. Choice and agency and yadda yadda

All this back and forth about whether or not acknowledging the truth that Riko was abused erases the truth that Riko was an abuser is just missing the fundamental truth that I honestly think is Andrew's whole main Principle Of Life:

Everyone, no matter how kind they seem, is capable of the greatest atrocities. It just depends on what might push them to that point and how much they resist the temptation when brought to it. And everyone, no matter how fucked up they seem, could fall or have fallen prey to the greatest atrocities of others. Because "the shit people did to me" and "the shit I do to others" is not a fucking linear graph with a one to one ratio in any fucking configuration. People get what they get and it's not about "deserving". And people do what they do and whether they're held accountable follows the same logic as above. The universe is apathetic about human morals and humans are biased and fallible and easily manipulated when we try to uphold and enforce our morals in its stead - and humans don't even universally agree on morals in the first place so it's a fucking mess from the start.

And honestly, sometimes those people who don't grasp this idea are like Jeremy "But they're your parents, they're supposed to love you" Knox. That's a sentiment of morality, not an observation of how reality actually plays out. I see the best you are capable of and I see the worst you are capable of but I expect nothing because I don't have perfect foresight, I don't have perfect information, nor can I read minds.

Riko was a victim of abuse. Riko was a perpetrator of abuse. These two truths exist in harmony and cannot be separated. Whatever you feel or think about him after that is your fucking business and exists as separate from those two truths because it is born from you and not from Riko or any truths regarding him.

"Hurt people hurt people" is TRUE and "You'll never know the violence it took to be this gentle" is TRUE but not all truths manifest in all people but that doesn't make them less true!!! It just makes humans the canvas of infinite possibilities each born from the same finite palette of colors!

But at that point we're talking about nuance and discourse doesn't like nuance and also these characters aren't real people in the first place so imma shut up now I guess

#I will die on this hill and you can die mad about it #but at least everyone will be dead and this conversation will be over #all for the game #the sunshine court #riko moriyama

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picturejasper20 · 2 days

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Lets talk about how Danny Phantom loves to push the idea of ¨these two characters must be together because destiny said so¨ and the implications of it!

Okay, for starters there is quite a lot of fans that agree how Danny and Sam gets forced into the show, specially in Season 3. They don't have much development in their relationship around the show because it was a 2000's Butch Hartman show and things have to keep the *status quo*

We know that Marmel wanted for more Valerie and Danny development but he couldn't for continuity issues and probably because Hartman wasn't fond of the ship. It took around 20 episodes for Valerie to have another episode about her since breaking up with Danny in ¨Flirting With Disaster¨.

I say that it makes a lot of sense of why Valerie and Danny's relationship didn't last long in this context because Danny was still keeping secrets from Valerie and still involved a lot of lying- not exactly the best condition to be dating with someone. So the best solution is for Valerie to learn who Danny is, and then after things get better, they probably can start getting into dating again, right?

Well, sorry, you can't see any of that because this happens in the very last episode of the series, we don't get to see how Valerie reacts to it and it doesn't matter because now Sam x Danny is canon!

Lets talk about that ring:

What bothers me is how, while this episode is about Danny being into Valerie and dating her, the ring that Jack gives to Danny has the name ¨Sam¨ on it. It is like the universe in show is screaming at Danny and the audience ¨See these two are the endgame! Haven't you realized it yet? Well, we are leaving you 100% clear with this¨.

Sarcastic Chorus made a video talking about the show keeps hammering you again and again that Danny and Sam are ¨meant to be together¨ by having characters commenting how everyone can see that except Danny and Sam, who it isn't clear why they don't tell what they feel to each other. He talks about how it gets really frustrating because nothing is exactly happening, people are just waiting for something to happen.

Let's move to ¨Double Cross my Heart¨ we have Gregor/Elliot and Sam falling in love with each other. They seem to share a lot in common, being into similar things. Danny keeps thinking that Elliot is an spy from the GIW and he is after him. I could get into the implications of Danny stalking Sam in this episode, but the one thing i want to focus on is that by the end of the episode it does get revealed that Elliot had been faking to share similar interests to Sam and was lying to her about who he really was. Was it because he was a spy from GIW? Nope! It was because he was tricking her into falling in love with him.

What frustrates me about this is the implications this episode gives: ¨If anybody else that likes Sam that isn't Danny, then that means that they are faking it! Danny is the only one who can love Sam and everybody else is trying to trick her¨. It is such a bad message and it sucks a lot for Sam to find someone that is a lot like her and then the writing go ¨sorry, they are a faker¨.

At least for Danny and Valerie made sense because it wasn't intended to work in that context, in ¨Double Cross my Heart¨ it just does dirty to Sam by spitting back in her face any chance of liking someone else that isn't Danny.

And episode that leaves a similar bad taste in mouth to me is Masters of All Time.

I have talked about this before, that in the alternative timeline Vlad and Maddie end up getting married together. Because they didn't want the kids in the audience to think about the implications about how Vlad might have been happier and not turned out evil from the proto lab accident, they had to make human! Vlad go against most of his previous established characterization of his regular self (like not allowing Maddie to use ghost gadgets for some reason) and be an abusive caricature of himself.

It couldn't be that maybe Vlad and Maddie didn't work together well, they have to leave obvious that no, Vlad is the terrible option and that Maddie and Jack are meant to be together. So much so that it said by the characters in the episode!

See, the writers made human! Vlad a piece of shit to leave clear that Maddie can only marry Jack. Because destiny told it so! It isn't like Jack and Maddie are their own people and they can choose whoever they want.

Yeah, Jack and Maddie have to get back together so Danny and Jazz don't become non-existent, but it find it so dumb that they made human! Vlad a weird ass copy of Disney Gaston instead of just writing it in a way that maybe these two clash being a couple. It could be that Maddie finds Vlad nice but Vlad is too busy always working or he isn't as fun as Jack was. Then Maddie realizes that she wants to be with Jack instead.

While having some fun elements, Masters of All Time is an episode that gets dumber and with more weird implications the more you think about it. And telling us that Jack and Maddie have to be together not matter what is one of the reasons.

I just dislike how weird this series is about how ¨destiny told these two characters have to be together¨ and not treating the characters as something they choose to do. It is also weird how this seems to apply to the female characters, in how Sam and Maddie, the moment they like someone else that isn't Danny nor Jack, then it turns out that person has to be abusive or be faking it. Itis like the show says they ¨belong¨ to Jack and Danny and they can't be with anyone else because then it would be bad. It is as a whole pretty frustrating

#danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #jack fenton #maddie fenton #Valerie gray #vlad masters #human! Vlad #Flirting with disaster #Masters of all time #Double cross my heart #dp rant

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allthingsbucktommy · 1 day

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Before the poll ends, I want to talk about one of my favorite scenes (the cafe meeting). So, in the first date, the thing about Tommy saying "I don't think you're ready" isn't just because Buck makes the "hot chicks" comment, or doesn't want to tell Eddie at that moment that, yeah, they're on a date.

It's also because Buck is tense, looking everywhere, (kind of) more focused on what's around them than on his date (which is understandable when you're in that phase of not fully understanding your feelings), the "I'm an ally/pride flag on my IG" comment, how he uses words like "dude" and "bro", how he gets defensive about the "stop lying about who I am" comment, and basically all his body language.

The beautiful thing is how Buck changes all that when they meet at the cafe. He speaks with much more self-confidence, he shows Tommy that he wants to show this new self with him, and Tommy at first doesn't know very well how to react (Buck inviting him to Madney's wedding as his date means everyone will know they're together, and it's a VERY important step), but he agrees knowing what's probably going to happen (I mean, Buck's parents will be there, and that could end badly) and at the same time shows Buck that he will be supportive and is sure of their relationship.

Honestly, it's a very important moment for me as a queer person, and I have a lot of things to say about that scene, but yeah.

What do you think?

#bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 abc #kinley #tevan #lou ferrigno jr #oliver stark #thoughts

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heart-of-the-morningstar · 2 days

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Corruption fic - Last preview

Ok, last preview for this fic! Again, no active warnings here but I promise the finished product will be very fun~ ;)

When you regained consciousness, you felt the familiar pounding in your head after a heavy night of drinking. Begrudgingly you dragged yourself out of you bed and forced your way to your bathroom for a much needed shower. You realized when you glanced towards the mirror that you never changed out of your clothes from yesterday. In fact, you don't even remember how you got back to your room last night, Everything was such a blur, and it hurt to think with the major headache you were experiencing at the moment. The last thing you could recall was falling off the bar stool, the pain you felt in your shoulder was enough of a reminder. Once you stepped in the hot shower, you felt a little better, but only a little bit. You tried to rack your brain for answers, trying to remember exactly what happened after you fell. You ran your fingers through your hair, letting the water soak your aching body. But in doing so, something had clicked. That motion had unlocked a foggy memory. Your hair. Someone had run their hands through your hair last night, but you couldn't for the life of you remember who. It was gentle, soft, tender. But who would do that?

After a few minutes, you stepped out of the shower and threw on one of the sundresses you had hanging in your closet. You really didn't feel like putting a ton of effort into your clothing choices today. Hopefully Charlie would forgive you for skipping out on her planned activity today and let you recover. You realized after that initially thought that you didn't even know what time is was. Chances were you had already missed it. With a groan, you plopped down back onto the mattress, your hair still damp.

"What's the matter with me," you asked yourself. "How do I expect to be redeemed when all I do is sabotage my chances by getting wasted every night?" Your headache persisted as you laid in your bed, you almost wanted to cry from the pain. But then, you heard a soft knocking at your door. Charlie, you thought. More than likely she was checking in on you to make sure you were alright. "I'll be there in a second!" you called out. The volume of your own voice didn't help your hangover in the slightest. You grabbed one of the small pillows off your bed for comfort and trudged your way to your door. "I'm really sorry I slept in Charlie," you spoke as you turned the door handle, "it was a...really rough night for me and I-" you stopped completely once you opened the door fully. Charlie, in fact, was not the one who had knocked.

"Yeah, you really did get put through the ringer last night, didn't you?" Lucifer smiled at you. The pillow you held fell to the floor with a soft thud.

“Oh, I-I’m so sorry, sir!” You stuttered. “I-I thought you were Charlie! Did-Did she send you?”

Lucifer looked at you with a puzzled stare. “Uhh, no, no she didn’t. I told her what happened last night and let her know I’d check in on you like I promised.”

“Promised?” you asked, but Lucifer didn’t seem to hear you.

“And you don’t have to refer to me as “sir,” my dear, “Lucifer” is just fine! I mean, you used my name just fine last night!”

Your heart stopped. “L-Last night? Oh no…what…what happened last night?”

Lucifer gawked at your question. “Wait, do you not remember anything?” You shook your head timidly. “Oh dear…well, nothing bad happened, I promise! What’s the last thing you can remember doing?”

You looked down at the floor sheepishly, embarrassed to admit the real answer. “The last thing I can remember is falling off the bar stool and…landing on my face…”

Lucifer stood there and pondered for a few seconds before speaking again. “Do you mind if I come in?”

“Oh, umm, yeah, y-you can come in,” you agreed. You picked up the pillow you had dropped and opened the door for Lucifer to saunter in. “I’m sorry I look like a mess right now, I-I just got out of the shower and my hair isn’t completely dry yet and-”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright!” Lucifer interrupted. “You don’t need to apologize. You look lovely, in any case.”

You brought the pillow in your hands up to your face in an attempt to hide your blush. “T-Thank you,” your muffled voice came through the pillow. "I-If you want, you can sit down on my b-ahh fuck!" One hand came up to your forehead when you felt your head pounding from the pressure that's been building since you woke up. This was definitely one of your worst hangovers to date.

"Oh! Are you alright?" Lucifer asked, his voice laced with deep concern.

"My head..." you choked out. You made your way over to your bed, crawling up to the top and cradling the pillow in your arms "Hangovers are never really kind to me."

Lucifer frowned, seating himself down on the edge of your mattress next to you. You felt your face flare up again when you looked up at his worried expression. "Can I help you? I can alleviate the pain. You only need ask."

"Y-you can?"

"Sure! Angelic power and all that." His hand hovered just above your forehead. "May I?"

"Yes," you breathed. With that, you felt his soft hand make contact with your aching head. You felt a warm tingling sensation emanating from his touch. It didn't hurt nor was it unpleasant, it was healing. Without thinking, you leaned further into his touch, letting the warmth spread throughout your entire body. Your headache slowly began to fade away along with the fogginess that had been plaguing you since you woke up. As his touch lingered, you realized you were able to think more clearly than before, memories from last night started to become clearer and clearer. You remembered Lucifer had come to your rescue after you'd fallen. You remembered Alastor had shown up to mock you in your drunken stupor, only for Lucifer to step in and defend you. You remember sobbing with Lucifer while he comforted you. Then you remembered...

You shot straight up, your heart racing a million miles a second, with Lucifer throwing his hand back in surprise. "What? What happened? Did I hurt you?" Lucifer asked in a panic.

"I'm..." you began, "I'm starting to remember things from last night." You clutched the pillow tight to your chest, refusing to look in the fallen angel's direction. "Please tell me I didn't actually lay down in your lap..."

"Uhh, well...," You could tell from his response that that's exactly what had happened.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" you apologized. "I shouldn't have done that! I-I know I drank way too much last night, I should have stopped, I didn't realize that-"

Lucifer's hand immediately flew to your shoulder in an attempt to get you to stop you from completely spiraling. "Darling, you don't need to apologize for that! You weren't feeling great so you just, ya know, used me as a pillow. And besides, it's not like I disliked it either."

"W-What?!" you nearly shrieked. Another realization had hit you just then. "You! You were the one that was playing with my hair! That's the only thing I could remember when I woke up!" You buried your face in the pillow once more. "If I said anything embarrassing..."

You heard Lucifer swallow hard. "I guess uhh, it depends on your definition of the word."

"Oh God, please no..." you pleaded. "What did I say?"

Lucifer held up his hand again as an offering, a weary smile on his face. "I can help you to remember, if you wish."

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer smut #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #my writing #preview #i gotta stop writing at midnight i swear lmao

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ro-is-struggling · 3 days

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Dark Side of Me || Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The plan you and your friends had come up with to celebrate your 21st birthday was simple: go to as many bars as you could in one night and stay out of the hospital. You weren't a big fan of it, but everyone had done it and now it was your turn. However, things went off the rails quickly and you ended up being dragged to Heroes, a superhero-themed strip club. You thought it was a bad idea, until you met the cold, piercing blue eyes of the Winter Soldier and simply couldn't look away.

Or the one when reader gets her first lap dance

Warnings: stripper AU, stripper!bucky x innocent!reader, suggestive tones, lap dance (I tried really hard), no actual smut, alcohol consumption, reader giving in to peer pressure, fem reader

English is not my first language

Word count: 4400

Notes: I watched magic mike the other day and apparently I am now obsessed with stripper aus. The movies have a softer side that I wasn't expecting but I loved it and that's the vibe I'm trying to recreate here. If you want to understand some of the dance moves I'm trying to describe here you should watch the movie! I tried really hard with this one (describing dancing is waay harder than I thought so I hope it makes sense)

I’m open to writing more of these two, so let me know if you’d like that and don't hesitate to stop by my asks/messages if you have any ideas!

tagging: @asgards-princess-of-mischief

What had started out as a night of celebrating your 21st birthday quickly went off the rails and turned into something completely different. The plan was to get wasted —legally this time—, visit a couple of bars and get home before you ended up in the hospital. You weren't usually a party and alcohol lover —you just went to have a good time with your friends—, but you recognized that your 21st birthday was an important event that deserved to be celebrated. Besides, your friends had assured you that they would behave themselves and that things would not get out of control -well, not that much at least.

In hindsight, you should have figured that wouldn't happen. Although nothing could have prepared you for ending up at Heroes, a strip club your friends had apparently been to before. You tried to say no at first, but you were a little buzzed and you'd never been good at saying no to your friends anyway, so eventually you agreed. The place was exactly what you imagined and completely different at the same time, if that made sense. Dark, loud and warm, but much nicer than you expected. The dim lights gave it a very intimate feel, highlighting certain spaces with red or purple lights that made it look aesthetically pleasing to the eye. The music played loudly, trying to drown out some of the shouting of the women throwing bills onto the catwalk where the dancers performed their routines, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle.

From the moment you settled at your table, a sort of strange sisterhood was generated between you and the groups of women seated in your proximity. Similar to bumping into a stranger in the bathroom at a party and reacting as if you were lifelong friends, you quickly engaged in casual conversation with the group of women at a bachelorette party to your right, and the one celebrating a divorce to your left. You complimented each other's outfits, shared a few drinks, and screamed with all your might in unison every time a dancer approached your side of the stage —or made quick eye contact with one of you. It created such a pleasant and fun atmosphere that for a moment you almost forgot where you were.

It stopped being nice and fun though when your friend came up with the idea of paying for a private dance and you had to face the force of a group of women pressuring you to accept. You had made the silly mistake of letting one of your friends know that you really thought the dancer who called himself the Winter Soldier was cute. You hadn't been able to take your eyes off him during his routine. And since that was the most interested you had ever been in any of the dancers, your friend thought it would be a good idea to treat you to a private dance.

“What am I supposed to do locked in a room with him?” You panicked as your friends dragged you to a more private area of the club to wait for your gift.

“I don't know, enjoy, I guess?” She laughed, practically pushing you into the arms of the man waiting to lead you to the Winter Soldier. You wanted to snap at her, but you kept silent, embarrassed by the stranger's presence. The last thing you needed was to make an even bigger fool of yourself by looking like an innocent, prudish fool.

But the problem was just that. You were a silly, innocent, prudish young woman that didn't have the slightest idea of what to do in a situation like that. You could feel the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out the screaming and the bass of the music that was getting farther and farther away. Your stomach was turning with nerves as you sat waiting in the chair in the center of the room, just as the man had indicated before disappearing behind the door. Your hands rested awkwardly in your lap, your body immobile as you contemplated your options —perhaps if you remained completely still, he wouldn't be able to see you there, it was dark after all.

You thought about running away from there. You were alone, the dancer had not yet appeared and the hallway was dark, you would probably be able to sneak out without even your friends noticing. You would send them a text later explaining everything, when you were out and away from their clutches so they couldn't drag you there again. But when you went to get up, you found that your legs didn't respond. Only this time it didn't feel like it was part of the nerves you were having at the thought of what was about to happen.

You discovered then that a part of you, hidden behind a lot of shame and fear of the unknown, was curious. You wondered what it would feel like to be in a room alone with him, what it would feel like to have him touch you —even in the lightest, most subtle way—, to have him press his body against yours as he had done on stage with a lucky girl in the audience. You'd never experienced anything remotely similar to that, you'd barely shared make-out sessions with your ex-partner that weren't particularly memorable-not in the way the Winter Soldier's dance was for you. You had the movement of his hips burned into your memory, the image of his flexing muscles popping up every time you closed your eyes. You wanted more of him, even if you couldn't bring yourself to admit it.

The sensual rhythm of the music that suddenly began to play brought you out of your thoughts. You looked up and there he was in all his glory. He was wearing a different outfit, a simple tank top and loose-fitting sweatpants. The tactical suit and mask that covered half his face in his routine had probably been left forgotten in some basket behind the stage, but you didn't mind. You could see more of him now, the real him, and you liked that. It felt more intimate, more genuine.

He could sense the nervousness in your voice when you told him your name. You had trouble maintaining eye contact with him, your eyes lingering for a full three seconds on his figure before returning to your hands. Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your flowy dress. It intrigued him. He had worked with flustered women before —it was more common than one might imagine—, but there was something about you that stood out. You looked so out of place there, with your innocent look and shaky breath. Everything about your body expression told him that you wanted to curl up in a ball and pretend you weren't there. Everything except a slight glint in your eyes that he almost missed as quickly as you looked away from him. It would be his challenge to get that side of you to come out.

“That's a beautiful name,” he said in a soft voice. You smiled, but your eyes didn't search his, focusing instead on the red light shining on the wall behind him. So he leaned in front of you, settling down to your eye level so you couldn't escape. “I'm Bucky, by the way, and there's no reason to be nervous around me, princess.”

Your face warmed at that affectionate nickname and a tingle spread through your body. It had been a while since the last time someone had called you that. You liked it, it made you feel special even if it came from a stranger's mouth.

“Why did you come here tonight? You don't seem like the type of woman that frequents these places.”

“I'm not! I'm here because my friends thought it'd be a good idea... a fun way of celebrating my 21st birthday.”

“Oh well happy birthday then!” Bucky gave you a smile and you thought that was the best present you had received all day. “Are you having a good time?

“Yea-yeah, I am.” Your voice was soft, almost inaudible. Bucky got the impression that you were embarrassed to admit that out loud.

“Are you uncomfortable, y/n? Do you want to leave? Cause I can give you a full refund and let you go right now if that's what you want.”

“No!” you were quick to say, big eyes staring at him for the first time since he had introduced himself to you. “I'm just a bit... scared, I guess. I've never done anything like this before. Actually, I've never done anything for that matter.”

You didn't know what prompted you to confess to Bucky —a complete stranger who danced and stripped for a living— your complete inexperience in sexual matters, but you couldn't turn back now. You supposed it was to be transparent, though there was no reason for such a thing. It wasn't like you were there to have sex, he was just going to dance on you for a bit and then you'd go back to your normal, boring life.

“Well, then I have to let you know that you are in full control here.” Bucky spoke in a soft tone full of understanding. His cold, piercing blue eyes softened, showing a warmth that helped calm your nerves a bit. “I do have a routine, but if there's something that I do that you don't like you can just tell me and I'll stop, okay?” You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the tingle of anticipation running through your body. “Good! Are you ready?”

At your nod, Bucky got up from the floor to press play on the music. Suddenly, the silence was filled by a soft, sensual beat similar to others that had echoed through the club throughout the night. He approached you with a slow pace, his eyes never leaving your face, studying your expression. Then he took one of your hands in his and rested it on his chest, still covered by the thin fabric of his white muscle shirt. You couldn't help but notice how much bigger his hands were compared to yours. You could barely see your fingertips as he wrapped his hand around yours, trapping it against his chest. His calloused fingers didn't let go as he slowly guided your hand down, allowing you to caress his chest as he rubbed small circles over your skin. It was such an intimate touch for the situation you were in, that for a moment you forgot he was a stripper who did this for a living.

The air caught in your throat, your heart pounding against your chest as your hand traveled lower and lower. You could feel the firmness of his abs under your fingers and the heat emanating from his skin. It filled you with anticipation, with need. You wanted to feel more of him, more of his body and his touch. More of his warmth and the intoxicating scent of his cologne. But before your hand reached his waist, he pulled it away. Your eyes shot up to his face, waiting patiently for Bucky to give you instructions to proceed.

He removed his shirt and as soon as the fabric touched the floor, his hands were on yours again, trapping them against his chest. Bucky liked the way you let him guide you, closing your eyes as you enjoyed something as simple as the feel of his skin under your fingers. He was used to dealing with more... confident women. They knew what they wanted and weren't afraid to demand it. Their hands were always everywhere, touching his crotch without hesitation every chance they got. But you were different. You didn't know what you wanted —what you were missing— and you were willing to let him show you. He enjoyed the slower pace, it was a nice change that allowed him to try new things. So in a way, you were both experiencing something different there.

Your eyes suddenly widened as you felt the fabric of Bucky's sweatpants brush against your fingers. Your face heated up, embarrassment taking over your expression. But he didn't let your hand slip away, on the contrary, he pushed it a few inches lower and made you cling to the elastic of the pants. He gave you a cheeky smile before he started moving to the rhythm of the music. His hand didn't let go of yours as he positioned himself in your lap, grinding his hips against yours with an experience that shouldn't have surprised you.

Bucky fixed his eyes on you as he danced, keeping you in a kind of hypnotic trance from which you could not wake up. Your eyes followed his, your body responding to his movements without a single complaint. He trapped you between the chair and his body, one of his hands clinging firmly to the back of the chair while the other traveled to your cheek. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the warm caress of his fingers. His face came so close to yours that you could feel his breath mingling against your quickened breathing, his nose brushing against yours. For a moment you thought he was going to kiss you, so you closed your eyes, letting the euphoric sensation of desire consume you.

But suddenly, Bucky rose from your lap. You couldn't contain the whimper that escaped your lips, a protest at his devastating absence. Although he wasn't completely gone, you could feel him at your back, his hands caressing your neck, his nose inhaling the scent of your hair. The ghost of his lips traveling from the sweet spot behind your ear to your collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He wasn't even kissing you and you were already experiencing things you had never felt before in your years of relationship.

With a graceful and sensual move, Bucky is once again on your lap, trapping you against the chair. He wasn't putting his full weight on you, but enough for you to feel it as he moved his hips. Your eyes traveled south, curious about the bulge that the sweat pants still hid. You'd never seen one before — well, outside of biology and health classes— and you'd never felt the urge to do so. But the way Bucky was moving on you made you wonder about things. You heard him let out a chuckle and looked away in embarrassment, knowing you'd been caught.

“You can look,” Bucky whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “That's what I'm here for, doll.” He stroked your arms, his fingers traveling slowly from your shoulders to your wrists. Then he took your hands and placed them back on his bare chest. “You can touch too, I don't mind.”

The desire traveling through your veins made you feel more confident this time, so you didn't need Bucky to guide your hands down his body. They acted at their own accord, fingers slowly tracing the defined muscles of his pecs and abs. You weren't yet comfortable going below his hips, so once you reached the edge of his pants you changed course to his back. Down, up and back down, your nails drew light red marks on his skin as he moved in your lap. You didn't even realize what you were doing, you just knew you liked hearing the sounds that escaped Bucky's lips when you accidentally applied too much pressure.

The lowest your trembling hands dared to go were his thighs. Bucky could see in your eyes the desire to go further —to brush your fingers over his bulge or squeeze his ass—, but shame and fear stopped you. You were trying so hard to keep your composure, to behave like a lady, but you couldn't fool Bucky. He knew what you wanted, even when you weren't ready to admit it. He saw it in the way your eyes darkened with each passing second and in the way your breathing became more and more erratic. The innocent, good girl shell you had when you entered the room was cracking, allowing your dark desires to come out. Bucky probably shouldn't find that so exciting, but he did. He couldn't help it, watching the innocence slowly leave your eyes, knowing that he was the one corrupting you, was a sight to behold.

Your lips curled into a pout of protest as Bucky rose from your lap, already missing the heat of his body pressed against yours. It was only for a moment, but to you it felt like an eternity. And he was counting on it, playing with the anticipation as he made a show of taking off his pants. This time your eyes lingered on his tight boxers for longer, though he could still see a flash of embarrassment as you crossed glances with him. It was driving him crazy, in the best possible way. He wanted to remove that innocence from your expression, to corrupt you past the point of no return. It was his personal goal, the challenge he had quietly accepted the moment he discovered what you were. And he was willing to win it.

Bucky dropped to his knees in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours as his fingers traced your legs. Your chest rose and fell with your quickening breath, your whole body buzzing with anticipation as you felt the gentle caresses moving from your ankles to your knees. To your surprise, his fingers continued their path up your thighs, though they stopped just below the hem of your dress. You resisted the urge to tangle your fingers in his hair as you felt him spread your legs slightly apart —enough for him to fit between them, but not enough to leave you too exposed to his eyes. And then the caresses over your body returned, only this time it was the ghost of Bucky's lips that sent shivers across your skin.

His mouth wasn't actually touching your thighs, but he was so damn close that you could almost feel his lips caressing the soft, sensitive skin on the inside of your leg. A warm tingling spread inside you as he moved further up, getting dangerously close to your trembling center. And at that moment you felt no shame or fear —like you had felt on other occasions with past partners. On the contrary, you wanted more, your legs involuntarily spreading wider to give Bucky more room as the ghost of his lips traveled up your lower tummy and across your abdomen until they reached your breasts. And as your breathy moans became more and more audible, your mind was lost in dark thoughts, wondering how different it would all feel if there was no barrier of clothing separating your bodies or how his wet kisses would feel on the sensitive skin of your thighs.

You didn't have much time to get lost in the fantasy though because in a second Bucky was on his feet again, pressing you against the back of the chair as he pushed your legs up. He settled down on the edge of the chair, resting each of your legs on his thighs. His hands gripped the back of the chair once again, trapping you completely between the cushions and his body —or rather, his crotch. You were practically sitting on his lap as you shared the chair, and you could feel his cock pressing against your center with every thrust of his hips. He was hard and you didn't know how common that was, but you decided to believe it wasn't something that happened often. You liked to imagine that his body was reacting to you and not to the sexual nature of his work. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

Bucky's hips moved to the sensual rhythm of the music, thrusting against your center in a way that made you feel like you were losing your virginity at that very moment. It was too much, the fire inside you spreading with the speed of a forest fire. And at the same time, it wasn't enough. Bucky's hip movements, though intense, did little to put out the flames they had started. They were pulling you into a swirl of desire and need, bringing you closer and closer to your limit with no promise of real relief. It was frustrating, in a way, but also incredibly exciting.

Your eyes closed for a moment as you struggled to process the sensations that were taking over your body. You tried to focus on your breathing and the sound of the music, anything to keep yourself grounded. But every time you thought you had managed to gain control of your own body again, Bucky moved his hips and all you could feel was pleasure, all you could think about was him.

A moan escaped your lips. It was involuntary and you didn't even realize what you did until a few seconds later. You were ready to apologize, certain you had crossed some kind of line, but Bucky let out a grunt of approval. One of his hands traveled to the back of your neck, holding your head firmly as he pressed his forehead against yours. His fingers tugged on your hair lightly, but the pain didn't bother you. You were too focused on the shape of his lips to think about anything else. You needed to feel them against yours. You needed to know what it would feel like to be kissed by him. You needed Bucky to take everything from you, to show you everything you'd been missing in these years of loneliness.

“C-can you k-kiss me?” You didn't think before you spoke, you just expressed what your mind was thinking without any kind of filter. Your voice was barely a shy whisper, your lips almost brushing against Bucky's as you spoke.

He should have refused, the number one rule of his job was never to kiss the clients —you never knew what things you might end up catching. But when Bucky saw the desperation in your eyes he couldn't help himself. Your slightly parted lips were highly tempting. You were inviting him, giving him permission to ruin you. You needed it as much as he did, so he gave in, and damned the rules.

Bucky's lips felt soft against yours, though there was nothing soft about the way he kissed you. Just like his dancing, the kiss was intense and unlike anything you had ever experienced before. His lips moved expertly, knowing exactly what to do to turn you completely stupid. You let him guide you, merely reacting to the pleasure that only Bucky seemed capable of giving you.

His tongue caressed your lips and you moaned into his mouth, allowing him immediate access to further deepen the kiss. Your hands clung to him —one digging your nails into his bicep while the other rested on his leg—, desperate to find something to keep you grounded while Bucky showed you sensations you didn't know you were capable of feeling.

You were high on pleasure, trapped under his body, immobilized by his lips, enveloped in his warmth and the scent of his cologne. You didn't want to be separated from him anymore. You didn't want to leave that room. You felt as if Bucky's lips were what kept you breathing, as if you needed them to keep on living. You couldn't pull away. You didn't want to pull away. But unfortunately a knock on the door signaled that your time together was over.

“You're more than welcome to come back anytime.” Bucky winked at you before disappearing behind the door, leaving you alone in the room.

It took you a moment to collect your thoughts and calm your rapid breathing. Your heartbeat was still pounding in your ears, but you figured that would change when you had a chance to get some fresh air. Your legs almost gave out when you stood up, still weak in the knees after the spectacle you had witnessed. You felt a little silly having to take a moment to steady yourself. Bucky had gotten up and left without any trouble, and there you were, clinging to the back of the chair as you struggled to compose yourself so you could leave without your friends realizing the effect their dumb idea had really had on you. You were pathetic.

Gathering your last bit of strength you pushed past the screaming women until you found your friends. They were back at their table, enjoying the routine of a tall, muscular blond who, from what you had heard, called himself Captain America. He was cute, but you couldn't stay in that place a second longer.

“How was it?” one of your friends asked with a smile.

“I need to get some air.”

“That good, huh?” Said the other with a giggle. You rolled your eyes, grabbing both of them by the arm and pulling them up from their seats.

Amidst protests they agreed to leave with you and call it a night. As they made their way through the crowd they didn't miss the opportunity to flood you with questions, insisting that you give them details of what had happened and how it felt to have Bucky dance just for you. You refused to say anything, partly because you were embarrassed to admit the reality of what had happened, and partly because you still needed time to process the night.

However, as you were about to leave, one of the waiters who had served your table - a young man who had introduced himself as Spider-Man - grabbed your arm. At first you thought maybe you had forgotten something in your seats and he was being kind enough to catch you before you left. But when you turned to look at him you noticed he had nothing in his hands but a rose and a piece of paper.

“He sends you this.” The boy said, handing you the items and disappearing into the crowd.

He didn't have to tell you who they were from for you to know. A smile immediately graced your lips as you held the flower to your nose and inhaled. Then you turned your attention to the piece of paper and as you unfolded it you discovered that it was a note.

‘Happy birthday!

Call me ;)'

It read, and at the end was written a phone number that was undoubtedly Bucky's. Your smile widened, which finally attracted the attention of your friends. One of them took the paper from you before you could hide it and when you saw the expression on her face you knew you weren't going to escape the interrogation. It was going to be a long night.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem reader #bucky barnes smut #(not really but just in case)#stripper!bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut

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