#like you can't say shit like 'only girls will understand the feeling of wearing heels' and not expect people to feel excluded

[priestessofspiders]

The Masochist

I'm a sadist. I figured I'd just get that out in the open first. Without going too much into the details, it feels extremely cathartic to hurt people. It's something about being in control, about someone else experiencing pain for my benefit, that just makes me feel very, very happy, like a weight being lifted off my shoulders. Of course, it also just turns me on, but like I said, I don't want to get too much into the details of that side of things.

I'm not a monster of course. I don't go around beating people up in bar brawls to get off or anything like that. I'm only interested in acting out my fantasies with willing participants, and I care a lot about consent. I understand that the experience of being hurt can be just as pleasant for some people as hurting them is for me, and in the end I really am wanting all parties involved to be as happy and safe as possible. It's an unorthodox pastime, sure, but in the end it's all happening between consenting adults.

Fortunately for me, genetics blessed me with just the right balance of facial symmetry, fat distribution, and skeletal structure to be considered fairly attractive by mainstream standards. You'd be surprised how many people out there want to get the shit beaten out of them by a beautiful woman. As a result of this, I'm reasonably well known in my local BDSM scene, which is one of many reasons why I won't be disclosing that much information that could be traced back to where I live. It wouldn't be especially difficult to find me.

Because of my relative popularity, I have gotten a little used to complete strangers knowing who I am. It's why I wasn't too surprised when I was approached at a kink party and greeted by name by someone who I'd never seen before in my life. I'll be the first to admit I was smitten at first sight, she was truly gorgeous. I can't exactly explain what it was about her that made her so attractive to me, it's difficult to put into words. I can easily describe her of course; short, red hair in a pixie cut, slender limbs, expertly applied makeup, but this doesn't really explain the aura of almost divine beauty that emanated out from her. Unlike many of the other attendees of the party, she wasn't wearing any sort of fetish gear or even particularly revealing clothing. Just jeans, a gray t-shirt, and an unzipped gray hoodie.

While I'm inclined to swing both ways, I've always had a certain preference for women, but that predilection towards sapphism doesn't mean I'm likely to fall head over heels at the first sight of just any pretty girl. She was special, there was something different about her.

She introduced herself as Julia, and then immediately asked me a question which, in retrospect, should have raised more red flags. Speaking in a calm, measured voice, she asked, "I've heard you hurt people if they ask you to, is that correct?"

It wasn't an incorrect thing to say. She was right, and I told her so, but the phrasing of the question should have bothered me more than it did. Nobody phrases things like that in those sorts of spaces, they use jargon, community specific terminology, that sort of thing. Someone might ask something like "You're the sadist who's into impact play, yeah?" perhaps, but the phrasing of "you hurt people if they ask you to" is utterly bizarre. Nobody at that party would have said something like that. It's the sort of question an 80 year old who was just introduced to the concept of BDSM would ask.

It only got weirder from there. After my affirmative response, she nodded her head thoughtfully and told me she would meet me at my home, and asked me when I would be free. I told her I wasn't doing anything the next day, and she nodded again and said she'd be there at 2 o clock. Then she just walked away. She didn't even ask me for my address, or a phone number, or anything. The worst part is, at the time, none of this seemed in any way unusual. A complete stranger had just told me she was going to come to my home the next day, which she evidently already knew the location of, and it felt completely natural. I can chalk up some of it to a bit of giddy excitement at the prospect of indulging in my more unusual interests with a willing and beautiful participant, but that just doesn't explain it. I'm not an idiot, I know you can't just trust complete strangers because they're attractive. It's like the part of my brain that should have been warning me something was wrong had been completely turned off.

The remainder of the party went as expected, though I was somewhat distracted from my encounter. I didn't see Julia at all for the rest of the evening. I imagine she just left after informing me she was going to come to my house the next day. I left early and went home giddy with excitement for the day to come.

At the time, part of me was worried she wouldn't show up. It's funny, looking back on it now, that the thought of Julia not showing would have been a source of fear rather than relief. But she did, of course. The knocks on my door were perfectly in sync with the alarm I had set up on my phone to remind me of her impending arrival.

I opened the door as casually as possible, trying my best to hide my excitement, and found Julia standing there, smiling pleasantly. She didn't seem to have changed her outfit at all since the night before, either that or she simply had multiple sets of the same clothes like Einstein. To be honest I was a little embarrassed, part of me worried I had misread her intentions entirely, and that this was meant purely as a social call.

I showed her inside politely and asked if she wanted anything to drink, and she gently declined the offer, looking around my house methodically like the camera of a Mars rover surveying an alien environment. There was a bit of awkward silence that I attempted to fill with one-sided small talk whilst she wandered about the house, seeming to scan every nook and cranny. I followed behind, feeling increasingly awkward. Finally, she turned to look at me and spoke simply, "You will pierce my skin with needles."

I'll admit I'd never been especially fond of needle play. It had always seemed too gentle, too tame for my specific proclivities, but that's not to say I was inexperienced with it, and I was only too eager to indulge Julia if that was what she wanted. In the end, pain is pain after all.

Now of course, I gave my whole spiel about safety and consent, talking about the whole "traffic light" system, soft limits versus hard limits, etc. Julia nodded along, still smiling pleasantly, maintaining eye contact somewhat uncomfortably throughout my entire monologue. It was only when I got to the concept of safe words and asked what would work for her when she opened her mouth.

"There will be no safe word," she said.

Now I'm familiar with newbies to this sort of thing who get cocky and insist that they can take it, that they don't have any limits, but this felt different. This wasn't a statement of confidence, this wasn't bragging, Hell, this wasn't even someone with self-worth issues who thinks that getting hurt beyond their limits is what they deserve. This was a statement of fact. There would be no safe word. I wouldn't need one.

I wanted to argue of course. I wouldn't be a safe sexual partner if I just did away with important safety techniques because someone told me they weren't necessary, but my words just seemed to die on my lips as I looked at her unsettlingly calm smile. This was around when I started to fully realize something was wrong, but it was as if I couldn't do anything about it. The stage was set, and there was no changing the role I was about to play in the proceedings. Torturer, enter stage right.

She lay face down on the couch, removing her hoodie and shirt to reveal a completely unblemished back, skin smooth and pale as cream. Despite my growing anxiety, I was still, at this point, somewhat excited.

In case you aren't familiar with the subject, needle play is exactly what it sounds like; it's essentially a somewhat sexier version of acupuncture. I have a set of acupuncture needles with jeweled tips at the blunt end for this purpose, a gift from a friend of mine. I removed the needles from their case, making sure to clean them with an alcohol soaked cloth before setting them on a sterile tray for further use. Once I had prepared all of the needles, I began to gently pierce them one by one into the flesh of Julia's back, arranging them into a symmetrical pattern.

You don't go deep during needle play, as with all properly done BDSM the end goal isn't to seriously injure one's partner, but to explore different sensory experiences. When done correctly, one doesn't even leave much in the way of marks or bruising. Ultimately you're far more likely to receive a scar from an upset house cat from someone who has the proper experience with needle play.

Now, usually folks tend to have a fairly noticeable reaction to being pierced with dozens of needles, even if said needles are only inserted gently and to a shallow depth. While it's certainly not the most painful form of sadomasochism I've indulged in, it's far from mild. There is usually a hitching of the breath, a faint shudder, even moaning if one gets really into it. Julia, however, remained totally motionless, and the steady rhythm of her breathing continued uninterrupted.

I'll be entirely honest, I was a little concerned that I was doing a bad job. The whole joy of sadism, to me anyway, is to see the reaction someone gets from what I do to them, to know that they are feeling these sensations because of me. It makes me feel powerful, in control. To receive no response whatsoever was, frankly, a little embarrassing.

I'd finished inserting the last of the needles when Julia finally spoke.

"Push them all the way."

I shouldn't have to tell you that's not how this works. These weren't short needles, they were several inches long each. Pushing each one down to the base wouldn't just be agonizing, it would be incredibly dangerous as well; I could easily perforate her lungs at a minimum.

And yet, I found my hands moving to the last needle I had pierced her with. I felt myself grasp the jeweled head and begin gently pressing downwards, slowly burying the entire length of the needle into the flesh of her back.

It's surreal, not having control over one's own body, to experience taking actions which you do not want to perform. It's not like watching a movie, you can feel yourself doing it the entire time, all the while you're filled with a dawning horror that you're nothing more than a puppet on a string. To feel your own body betray you is the most viscerally upsetting sensation I've ever had.

One by one, each of the needles were pushed to the base into Julia's back by my trembling, sweaty fingers. I'd like to say there was no blood, that it was as though I were simply pressing sticks into wet clay, but that would be too kind to me, wouldn't it? No, I had to watch as deep rivulets of crimson bubbled up from the dozens of puncture wounds I was inflicting upon my still seemingly uncaring victim. She didn't so much as twitch, just continuing to breath methodically even as I saw bubbles of air form in the blood pouring from those wounds which pierced her lungs. My mind was attempting to retreat into itself, horrified at the loss of control I was experiencing, overwhelmed by the total absence of agency. My face was streaked with tears, ruining the makeup I had put on in the hopes of impressing her. God, to think I once worried about how she would think of me. It took me a moment to notice when she got up from the couch, putting back on her shirt, blood soaking through the fabric.

"Thank you for a very pleasant afternoon. I will be stopping by next week on the same day, at the same time. You will meet me then," she said, sliding her hoodie over the stained t-shirt. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a folded stack of hundred dollar bills, placing it on the coffee table while I sobbed. With that, she left and walked out the door.

Somehow, by the time I managed to pull myself together, I still had the wherewithal to feel self-conscious about the money. I don't do this sort of thing for pay, I've never wanted to do sex work. It isn't that I have any sort of moral qualms with that, but this sort of thing is basically a hobby for me, one that admittedly is a rather an important part of my life, but it's not my job. Being paid for it felt deeply wrong to me. It made me feel dirty, accepting that money, but it was more than enough to keep me financially stable for a week, and there was no way I was going to be able to go to my day job any time soon after what I'd experienced. I called in sick as soon as I was able to speak without crying.

I spent a while processing what happened. It wasn't just traumatic because of the lack of control, though that certainly doesn't help. I've often been self-conscious about my proclivities, worried that I'm somehow predatory, that I'm a bad person. Something that helps is knowing that what I'm doing isn't really that dangerous, that it's just a bit of unusual fun. Even at my most vicious the only lasting damage are a few bruises. To watch someone have needles pierced into their vital organs by my own hands, it's different. It's not just harmless fun anymore.

I came up with all sorts of explanations for what could have happened. Maybe Julia was a master hypnotist, and she had put me into some sort of trance. She could have replaced my regular needles with telescoping ones, like those prop knives they use in theater. Perhaps she was wearing some sort of prosthetic makeup on her back filled with fake blood. Maybe she drugged me. In my heart of hearts though, I knew that none of these rationalizations held any truth.

A week came and went, and I found myself waiting at my home for Julia. I didn't want to, I tried to call up a friend to stay with, but my vocal cords froze up whenever I attempted to ask them. I tried placing a reservation for a hotel room online, but my fingers refused to let me click the mouse. Even when I tried leaving on foot, I found myself steadily walking back to my house as soon as the clock struck noon. My appointment with Julia would be kept.

When she arrived, Julia was still wearing the same outfit as the last week, albeit cleaned of blood. She held a small package wrapped in brown paper and twine in her left hand. She greeted me by name cheerfully enough, and despite the terror I felt at the sight of her, I found my mouth twisting into an involuntary smile as I welcomed her into my home with a tone of similar warmth. Only the tears flowing down my face indicated my true feelings. My mind kept playing back images of me pushing the needles into her back, of the blood bubbling with the rhythm of her breathing.

She got right to the point, informing me that today I would be whipping her. Even now, I'm still not used to the way she phrases her instructions. When you use the proper terminology for these sorts of things, you're reminding yourself that it's not actually harmful, that it's just, in essence, a game. "Impact play" feels so much less cruel than whipping. But Julia doesn't care about what I feel. She just makes me hurt her.

I went to go retrieve one of the various floggers I owned, deciding I would choose whichever one I thought would cause the least damage, when Julia simply said, "Stop."

Instantly I froze in my tracks, not moving a muscle. I heard the rustling of paper from behind me, the sound of her unwrapping the object she had brought with her. "Turn around," she instructed. I did so instantly, without hesitation, despite how strongly I didn't want to see what she would present me with.

It reminded me somewhat of a discipline, a type of scourge used in certain Christian denominations as an instrument of penance, a tool for the mortification of the flesh. It was composed of seven lengths of slightly rusted chain, with three jagged knots of barbed wire sticking out along each one. She held it out to me, and I took it, shaking slightly. I felt like I was going to be sick. Getting a closer look at the discipline, I could tell that the links of the chain were sharpened to a razor's edge.

I must again reiterate; I enjoy hurting people. I like seeing people in pain, I like seeing people submit their bodies to me, to watch them be hurt because they willingly give me the power to inflict suffering upon them for my own pleasure. I know there are probably a lot of people out there like me who would be overjoyed to spend time with Julia, to be with a partner who truly has no limits, for whom you can do whatever you want to her and she'll just take it, wordlessly. They probably wouldn't even need to be controlled in the way that she does to me, or if they were, they may not even notice it. But I'm not one of those people. I enjoy hurting people, not maiming them.

She took off her shirt again, this time kneeling on the floor instead of laying down. By some terrible miracle, her back showed no scars from our last session. I was once again greeted with that same creamy, unblemished skin. She told me to begin, and I did. I felt my hand clench, white knuckled, around the handle of the discipline, and I began to swing it with all my might against her back. The rusted, razor sharp metal tore into her flesh like a knife through butter, leaving terrible gashes from which blood flowed like the tears of weeping saints. I tried to keep track of how many times my body swung that terrible scourge, but I lost count at one hundred lashes. By the time she told me I could stop, her vertebrae and the back of her rib cage were visible, peeking out from the ruined, bloody flesh of her back.

Like before, impossibly calmly given the utter ruination of her body, she stood up, put back on her clothes, and thanked me for my time, informing me once again that I would be seeing her the same time next week. She left me another stack of hundred dollar bills, more than the last time, and left. I curled in the fetal position upon the blood soaked floor and cried until I passed out.

That was months ago. Since then, it's only gotten increasingly worse.

I quit my job. I have long since run out of excuses to explain my continued absence, and the money from Julia more than pays for my expenses, so I just sent in a resignation email and didn't show up for work after that. I wish I could say it was an improvement, not needing to work anymore, but all it means is I have more time to focus on the terrible things I've been made to do against my will.

Every week is different, some new torture she wants me to perform on her. Each time she is completely healed from the previous session, and each time her requests seem to get more extreme, further from anything even vaguely resembling something remotely conventional. I don't want to go into detail as to the specifics, just reliving our first two meetings is traumatic enough, but it has become increasingly rare for me to use any of my own equipment, instead she usually comes in with some new object wrapped in brown paper and string. A potato peeler, a power drill, a nailgun, a branding iron, etc.

Most recently, the package she brought was small, compact. She unwrapped it to reveal a smooth, black, handgun, a Glock I think, with a suppressor already threaded into the end of the barrel. That session was very quick.

Even with the bullet wound clear through her forehead and out the back of her skull, she kept up that polite, gentle smile. I looked through the newly created tunnel of flesh and bone that marred her otherwise beautiful face as she politely thanked me for my hospitality, informing me that she would meet with me again next week at the same time.

#horror story #horror fiction #horror #nosleep #writeblr

[grandaddy-of-all-liars]

Hello my’ mellows, today I will be telling you about Ren and Stimpy characters that I don’t think get enough attention.

Mr Horse

No one talks about him and it weirds me out. he’s not only a FANTASTIC critic but also a snazzy dresser, I mean have you seen that suit he was wearing in Ren Seeks Help? He also was in the army so it’s clear he’s very strong. And to top it all off he’s a very handsome, and I’m surprised that not many people haven’t fell heads over heels over him.

Muddy the Mudskipper

This one is a little more understandable since he didn’t have much of a role in the series, but I still thinks he deserves a mention. KILLER theme song, and cares for his friend enough to take him to a mental asylum to get help (I’m referring to Ren Needs Help). Also is a Hollywood big shot so that’s pretty cool.

The headless boy from APC

I know I briefly already mentioned him in the comment section on your last post, but I feel like I should mention him here too. Some how can operate just fine without a head which is very impressive. Had a kinda cute moment with Stimpy when they were building that house (well chimney I mean). Despite seeming to lose everything and living in a hole he still tried to have as much fun as he possibly can. Overall this character is just wholesome in general and I wish we could see more of him.

Ren’s Mom from APC

This one is gonna be a bit biased since I have a bit of a crush on her, I mean she’s practically a girl version of Ren that fact alone is enough for my lesbian brain go “ME WANT GIANT CHIHUAHUA WIFE” which is a weird thought to have since she’s not a giant, anyway enough of what ever this is let’s get on with the real reasons. She’s very beautiful, but deserves a much better marriage. A lovable psychopath just like her son (this is based off of speculation).

I hope you enjoyed my little TED talk and let me know if you think I missed any (which I probably did). Well bye for now!

i enjoyed reading EVERY word of this thank you so much for sharing your two cents! super ask, thank you for helping me not terminally hyperfix on Ren 0_o

also [chihuahua wife panic], sdhchfhczrf how did I fail to appreciate such a catch that is his mom, I cried when I saw this 💔

ok so we concur:

dapper Mr Horse🔺️

Muddy (the tune is on mental repeat now)🔺️

Headless Boy 🔺️(when hes embarassed and crosses his feet and hangs his lil larynx in shame 🥺)

Ren's stone cold fox Mom🔺️ (does she have a name? confession: i had a kind of awakening when her skirt lifted to reveal the garters 👀)

Submitting for your approval:

Wilbur Cobb - the shit he says plus he's like actively decaying idk why it makes me hysterical. he's completely batshit but kinda sharp still, i mean, pro tip: 'if you call everything crap you're never wrong'

Chuck - i think i actually like him more as a character foil for Ren bc he eggs him on to the point we get to see another side of Ren's pathos, and i like to imagine Ren was once secretly in love with him

Jasper - ok maybe i'm too narrowly focusing on the brotherhood of the dog here, the canine antics are so much fun. wish he were a recurring cameo

Eggyolkeo - please don't hate me for this >.< inanity is my lover and this character is just so hokey and ridiculous i can't not celebrate him. when he performs on stage and Elvis-struts in his cape and gargled into the mic i lost it. plus seeing the boys being all parental is just so darn cute, despite the poor ending

well thank you so much for having me on the show, i had a lot of fun here tonight :) seriously thank you for the stellar topic!!!! i'm sorry it took me forever to reply please feel welcome to send more, i should be getting my life back from work a bit soooooon

#ren and stimpy #ren & stimpy #answered #i love these asks its so awesome to hear about what you like and how you enjoy this random 90s cartoon most know only as memes/gifs #thank you :)

[junko-en0shima]

hii there!! may i request a match up for HP (Marauders Era) and Stranger Things??

i'm 17, bi, go by she/her pronouns,

i'm 5'7", wear glasses and have a grown out pixie cut. i'm a first born, and an older sister which has made me mature faster than most (or so i've been told) i'm responsible, a go getter, someone who prefers to do shit on her own because ik no one can do it better than me. i need things to go my way else i get supremely uncomfortable. i'm used to standing on my own two feet and would rather cut of an arm before going to someone for help. i'm independent and can't wait to go off to college, although i love my family. i'm the "mom" of my friend group, and just in general. it's up to me in public and private settings to be the responsible mature one, and i don't usually mind it, in fact i love it. but there are times i wish i had someone else who could be the "mature" one so all the repsonsibility wouldnt fall on my shoulders. that's not to say i don't love being the "mom" it warms my heart to know my friends think of me like that, in fact i've known for while i want two kids as well as a successful career and i'm going to make that happen for myself.

although i crave affection, i bolt at the first sight of getting any. i don't know why. i love people endlessly, passionately even, but can't verbalise it to them. i can talk about how much i adore and care for person A to person B, but can never say it to person A. my love language is physical touch, if i'm touchy and clingy it's because that's the best way i can show my affection. i tend to fold into myself when people get too close, and keep my heart under lock and key because i'm scared when i fall in love, the person will leave me at any time, and once they find out who i really am they'll hate me.

personality wise i can be loud, boisterous and bossy, but also a self deprecating anxiety ridden mess. it depends on company and how i feel about myself that day, an ambivert you can say. i love reading and writing, and hope to pursue something in psychology or business while managing creative writing as a hobby on the side. my achilles heel is taylor swift, tvshows and romance in any kind of media

Your match for Harry Potter is... Remus Lupin!

This boy got you hand and foot! Though he was an only child, he's very empathic and understands how it feels to feel so responsabile due being the oldest child because he was like the babysitter of the marauders.

Oh boy, he loves when you act clingy around him because everybody can see you're his girl and nobody else's.

Admires how mature you are and actually can relate to you for that because he thinks most of mature kids are misunderstood (I can relate too, unfortunatly).

Though he teases you about that, he makes sure none, I repeat NONE of his friends, exploit you as the mom of the group ever.

Your match for Stranger Things is... Steve Harrington!

Okay, he's a prince and don't try to change my mind (thought my personal prince is *coff coff* Eddie *coff coff*).

Just like Remus, he admires how mature and indipendent you are and also he thanks God for being not the mom of the group anymore, but the kids have to treat with respect or Steve is gonna kick their little butts.

Most of your dates are based on snuggling in each other's bed at each other's house. Don't worry, big boy has got all your attention cravings!

He swears you are so fucking cute when you get clingy!

#❦ matchups #harry potter #remus lupin #marauders era #stranger things #steve harrington #mama steve

[cherrycheridarling]

tic-tac-toe | mcu

marvel cast x actress!reader

warnings: one swear, fluff, no plot

summary: you play aphrodite in the MCU and it's time for the press conference for infinity war. based off of this press conference

wc: 2.7k

"Tom Hiddleston!" Jeff Goldblum introduced the man who was sitting on your right.

Everyone applauded before Jeff moved onto you, "Y/N Y/L/N!" more applause rang through the room.

"Sebastian Stan!" you looked to your left where Sebastian waved to the crowd as you clapped with everyone else.

"Anthony Mackie!"

After Jeff finished with the introductions, he explained how the panel would work. He would pull a ping pong ball out of a container and it would either have a name or category. The audience would be able to ask a question to that person or a person in that category after Jeff called on them.

As he pulled RDJ's name out of the container, Tom leaned over towards you.

"Does your water taste funny, too?" he whispered making you stifle a laugh.

You nodded, "Kind of like lemon, right?"

He shook his head, "Mine tastes like mint. Can I taste yours?" he held his hand out as you passed him your water bottle. He took a sip and spent a moment analyzing the taste, "Yours does taste like lemon! Why does mine taste different? Here." he passed you his water.

You took a sip and were hit with a strong mint flavour, "Woah. I think they're trying to drug you." you joked making him laugh.

"As I am answering this question, Tom Hiddleston and Y/N Y/L/N are discussing the flavours of the water behind me." Robert exposed you and Tom to the audience making the room burst out into laughter.

"They have fancy water. Mint and lemon." Tom spoke into a mic drawing more laughs. "Sorry. Carry on!"

As Jeff pulled the next name, you adjusted your dress. A white, long sleeve, blazer dress with gold buttons down the middle, the dress ended mid-thigh. The v-neck cut showcased your subtle gold necklace. Black stiletto heels covered your feet.

You unconsciously began bouncing your leg up and down in a fast motion. Sebastian placed a hand on your thigh, stopping your movements, "You're gonna drill a hole through the floor, Y/L/N." he chuckled.

"Sorry." you laughed quietly.

Sebastian pulled out a notepad and pen, "You need a distraction. Tic-tac-toe?" he offered.

You smiled with a nod before making your move.

"You absolutely suck at this." you chuckled as you won the third game in a row.

Sebastian scoffed, "You can't suck at tic-tac-toe."

"And yet, you do." you smirked.

He rolled his eyes playfully before you continued playing.

After two more rounds, your attention was back on Jeff as he pulled a new ping pong ball. "Ooh! You can ask a God or Goddess." Jeff announced, "So, Tom Hiddleston, Chris Hemsworth or Y/N Y/L/N." he reminded the crowd, "Okay, yes, you!" he picked a woman in the front row.

"Hi, I'm Alexis with Forbes. My question is for Y/N." the room applauded as Jeff tossed the ping pong ball at you and you caught it with one hand.

"See, Robert! It's not that hard!" Jeff exclaimed making everyone laugh.

"Screw off, Goldblum! You chucked that shit at my head." Robert joked back. "Sorry, Alexis, go ahead."

"Um, I wanted to ask about Aphrodite's powers. We all know that she is the Goddess of Love and can seduce anyone with her beauty. We see in the trailer a small clip of her seducing men. How many people did you seduce in the film and were there any funny moments filming those scenes that you can share?"

Her question drew a mix of reactions from the cast. Some laughed, some furrowed their eyebrows and others were just confused. You took in the question before opening your mouth to reply, until you remembered that you weren't wearing a body mic. The cast laughed again before Sebastian passed you a mic.

"Sorry. Um, how many people did I seduce in the film? None." you stated drawing more laughs, "How many people did Aphrodite seduce? All of them." you chuckled, "I'm kidding. Although, I'm not sure what I can share because I don't know what's in the trailer." you confessed, "Kevin, Joe, Anthony, what's in the trailer?" you asked them making everyone laugh again.

Kevin picked up a mic, "I believe it's you seducing Spider-Man, Starlord, Drax and Iron Man."

You nodded, "I do have a funny moment that I'm sure Mister Holland will kill me for sharing, but it's too good to not tell." you smiled thinking of the memory.

Tom immediately grabbed a mic, "You wouldn't!" he exclaimed making the audience and cast laugh.

"I would," you retorted, "We were shooting that scene and, as you know, they have to act like they are falling in love with me. Like I'm putting them in a trance. Well, Tom took that a bit too seriously." you paused at the laughter that your sentence caused, "They're all on their knees in front of me, looking at me as if I'm their queen, because I am." you joked, "And then Anthony calls 'cut' and Dave, Chris and RDJ all get up and start chatting, but as I'm turning away, Tom doesn't move. Still on his knees, looking at me as if I hold the world in my hands." the room filled with amused laughs and chuckles as Tom covered his face with his hands.

"No, it was so bad because I just looked like a creep that couldn't stop staring at her!" Tom laughed at himself.

Robert grabbed a mic, "Very true. I was watching and it honestly had me convinced that Y/N had real powers."

"I have to say, I understand the kid's reaction. Y/N's costume for Aphrodite and the way they transform her only enhances how gorgeous she already is." Anthony Mackie spoke up causing the crowd to gush and clap, "I'm pretty sure we all had the same reaction when we first saw her while filming Civil War." he looked around as the cast nodded.

Scarlett picked up a mic, "Yeah. I remember her walking on set in this stunning white dress which made me extremely jealous," she confessed, "Because, one, it's so gorgeous and she looks absolutely amazing in it," the crowd and cast applauded again, "And two, it's made of the softest silk while my suit is leather and spandex!" everyone laughed at her comment.

Benedict picked up his mic, "Although, it wasn't Tom's first time seeing Y/N as Aphrodite. He was in Civil War and still could not contain himself." he teased making the audience and cast laugh again.

Robert spoke again, "Yeah, he did that during the filming of Civil War, too." the room hollered with laughs.

Tom's face was bright red, "I'm just a very committed actor. I really give all of myself to my work." his comment drew more laughs.

"That's why Sebastian despises Tom. It all started when Tom couldn't take his eyes off of Y/N." Chris Hemsworth added making everyone double over in laughter.

"I feel so loved," you held a hand to your heart as the room chuckled, "These are genuinely the best people in the world and I guess you could say I seduced one person during filming." you joked as the crowd continued to laugh, "Sorry, Tom. I'll buy you some juice, don't be mad." Anthony and Benedict laughed loudly. "Thank you for your question!" you thanked the lady as the cast clapped before Jeff picked out the next ping pong ball.

Next was Scarlett. You sat back and silently judged the man who asked about fashion. Scoffing with Sebastian at his question and laughing at Scarlett's sarcastic and witty responses.

Sebastian leaned over again, "I have to piss."

You stifled a laugh at his abrupt confession, "Go to the washroom, then." you nodded your head towards the exit.

"We're not allowed to leave." he frowned.

You chuckled and reached over, patting his thigh with your hand, "Don't piss yourself."

He rolled his eyes playfully before Jeff called out the next name.

"Anthony Mackie!"

"Hi, I'm Tiffany with Times Magazine. With such a star studded cast, do you find it difficult or any obstacles in developing your character with all theses amazing stories being told and struggling for screen time? Like, are there any obstacles or special difficulties or is it all just amazing?"

Before Anthony could answer, Joe Russo picked up his mic, "Are you asking Anthony Mackie if he has a hard time getting attention?" his comment caused the whole room to erupt in laughs.

Anthony nodded slowly as the laughter died down, "Touché, touché. Uh, well, Tiffany, a wise man once said that some men need an hour to make their presence felt and some need thirty seconds." there was an uproar of laughter and hollering at his comment as he dramatically dropped the mic on the table.

"Who are we asking next?" Jeff squinted at the ping pong ball, "Ooh! Back to the Goddess of Love herself, Y/N Y/L/N!" the room applauded for you as Jeff threw the ball to you.

Sebastian intercepted the toss and caught the ball himself with a smug smirk. You rolled your eyes, but smiled as Jeff picked a lady out of the dozens who had raised their hand.

"Hi, I'm Amy with Esquire and I wanted to ask about the relationship between Bucky and Aphrodite. We see in the previous films their awkward tension from their past history. They have a very special romance and their love story is a fan favourite in the Marvel fandom. What was it like building that bond and relationship on screen? And what do you think of the choice to match the two characters together, how did you react when you found out? Did the pairing of the two help build your bond off screen?"

Jeff spoke again, "I said 'one question', that was at least twenty." he teased the lady drawing laughs from the room.

You chuckled and nodded slowly as the laughter died down, "Excellent questions. Umm, I honestly really like the pairing of the two. I think it gives a great dynamic to both characters and reveals sides of them that we never would've seen without their relationship. It's a very 'good girl falling for the bad guy' trope. And if I'm being honest, I've always wanted that." you confessed causing the room to chuckle, "Their relationship is, without a doubt, one of the most complicated ones in the MCU, but I think that's what makes it so loved by the fans since there's not a dull moment between the two. It's nice to see Bucky have a sentimental side, in his own awkward way of course. And you get to see Aphrodite fall for someone who's not a God or a Titan." you turned to Sebastian, "What do you think?"

You offered him the mic, but he didn't take it, letting you hold it up for him, "Yeah, I agree. I never thought Bucky would have a love interest, if I'm being honest. But I'm glad he does because Aphrodite brings out the soft side in him and he brings out the fighter in her. They really balance each other out and Y/N portrays the character in such a unique way, it really brings a whole new fresh persona to Aphrodite and it's amazing having her as a partner on screen." the audience applauded at his words, "When I first found out about Bucky having her as his love interest—"

"—He called me screaming about how hyped he was." Anthony Mackie cut him off making the room laugh. "Anthony! Anthony! Bucky is gonna be with Aphrodite! That's gonna be sick!" Anthony mocked his voice as you were hunched over with laughter.

Sebastian nodded with a smile, "I did. Won't lie, I did. It's a really refreshing relationship and I'm glad that the fans love it as much as I love playing it. Back to you, you haven't talked about the development and our bond." he gave you a lopsided grin.

You chuckled, "I feel like I'm rambling, but yeah. Their development is definitely," you paused, trying to find the right words, "A development?" you settled on drawing more laughter. "Well, as I said, it's very complicated, but awkwardly adorable at times. Since Seb complimented me, I feel obligated to say something nice about him," you joked making them laugh again, "Kidding. He really does play Bucky with such passion and commitment, it's truly inspiring. And working with someone who loves what they do as much as Seb, it definitely motivates you tremendously and yeah. Um, I won't lie, I honestly was dreading working with Seb," you confessed drawing laughs and a gasp from Sebastian.

"Why?!" he exclaimed making you laugh.

You sighed, "Not because I think you're a bad person or anything, but you come off as very intimidating to people who don't know you very well. And I knew nothing about you before filming other than the films you'd already done, so you scared me." your confession caused everyone to laugh loudly.

Sebastian smirked jokingly, "I am extremely frightening. I understand." he shrugged.

You scoffed with a laugh, "I caught you sleeping with a stuffed turtle and whale noises playing." the room roared with laughter again, "That's when I knew you were a big softy."

Sebastian rolled his eyes playfully, "She's joking. I am the toughest man alive." he deepened his voice.

You shook your head with a chuckle, "Sure. Thank you for your questions." the room clapped for you as you set the mic down and relaxed back into your seat.

"Nailed it." Sebastian held a hand out for a high five and you chuckled before hitting your hand against his.

For the rest of the press conference, you sat back and listened to your friends answer questions. Laughed at jokes made and clapped when appropriate. Small tic-tac-toe games went on between you and Sebastian. Your attention was fully on your nails when Tom Hiddleston got called on.

"Hi, I'm Samantha with Daily Mail and I was wondering, since Loki is a very closed off and mysterious character, we never explore the aspect of him having a love interest. So, if you could choose anyone from the MCU for Loki to end up with, who would it be and why?"

You turned to look at Tom as he pondered on the question, crossing his arms and rubbing his chin, "Very good question. Umm, who would I choose for Loki? Let's see," he paused again and looked around the room until his eyes landed on you, "Ah, I'd steal Aphrodite from Bucky." he answered making the room laugh and Sebastian chuckled with a nod.

"Why Aphrodite?" Jeff asked.

Tom chuckled again, "Well, it's Aphrodite." he simply answered drawing more laughs, "They are so different yet similar in so many ways. Loki is never fully evil nor fully good, but I think Aphrodite has the best chance of turning him good. And who wouldn't want to end up with the Goddess of Love?"

The cast nodded understandingly before Chris Pratt grabbed a mic, "If you were to ask any person on this stage that same question, I guarantee the answer would be Aphrodite." the whole cast nodded.

"They're all trying to steal Sebastian's woman." Jeff teased.

Sebastian scoffed jokingly, "They're all jealous." he wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

You chuckled with a shake of your head before Robert spoke up, "Adding onto the conversation. Miss Y/L/N, who would you want Aphrodite to end up with?" his question drew excited reactions from the crowd.

You let out a bark of laughter before looking from Tom to Sebastian, "Hmm, excellent question, Mister Downey." you rubbed your chin, "Stop doing that, Holland." you chuckled as you saw Tom point at himself in the corner of your eye.

He raised his hands in surrender before Anthony Mackie spoke up, "Spidey is five years old, kid." everyone laughed at that.

"I'd have to stick with Bucky. He is her true love." you shrugged as the crowd cheered.

Sebastian smirked from beside you as the men of the cast faked disappointment.

As the panel came to a close, you looked around at the family you were surrounded by. Friends you love more than anything. Hundreds of memories with the most amazing people you'd ever met. Your home.

#marvel cast x actress!reader #marvel cast x reader #marvel fan fiction #marvel #infinity war #sebastian x reader #tom holland #sebastian stan #anthony mackie #robert downey jr #tom holland angst #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x actress!reader #sebastian stan x reader #tom hiddleston #bucky barnes #peter parker #loki #iron man #falcon and winter solider teaser #marvel cast x singer!reader #marvel cast x famous!reader #avengers cast #avengers #avengers fanfiction #avengers fic #avengers fluff #marvel cast fluff

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

OFF WITH YOUR HEAD

PART 2 OF HEADS WILL ROLL

SYNOPSIS: Whenever school is in session, Eren will just keep finding new places to corner you.

PAIRING: BULLY! EREN x FEM! READER

DEDICATED TO: you guys, always you guys.

WARNINGS: unedited, slight dubcon, groping, degradation, bullying,

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

Gooooood Morning Paradis Birds! Remember to give a big round of applause to the football team for clutching the victory against reigning champion Marley High! We stay undefeated thanks to our excellent and hardworking team. Special shoutout to Captain Eren Yeager for guiding the team to another flawless victory-

You're half-heartedly paying attention to class, sleepily listening to the school announcements over the speaker until the mention of his name douses you like a shock of ice-cold water.

You can't catch the rest of the announcement because your class erupts into cheer, enthusiastically clapping their hands for the boy of the hour.

The only one not joining is you.

Eren's smile is brighter than 100 kilowatts. In the back of your mind, you wonder where he learned to smile like that. When his emotions became so practiced.

Mr.Berner tries to calm the kids down, especially Sasha who bangs on her desks and howls, creating even more hype and ruckus. The class, now in a chattier mode, excitedly breaks into little conversations.

"Man, thank god. That school is so pretentious, I'm glad we finally have something over them."

"Jeez, I know our team was good, but it's this good-?"

"-Bro, year of XXXX is stacked as fuck. It's literally never been this stacked before. We have a whole team of prodigies, it's insane-especially Eren. "

"Yepp. My dad went to Paradis too and he said shit like this never happened during his time. The academic comps were one thing, but these footballs wins? We're being put on the fucking map."

The announcements are still going on, but it's hard to hear over the noise. You're only able to catch the tail end, a useless tidbit about the word of the day.

pre·mo·ni·tion a strong feeling that something is about to happen, especially something unpleasant. Here is an example: "She had a premonition of imminent disaster" Have a good day folks, hope it's free of any premonitions!

Overhearing the unceasing praise of the boy who pinched your thighs until they bruise blue and purple was a little painful-but you were used to it. After all, he's putting Paradis on the map. Whatever the fuck that means.

While you didn't love sharing this class with him, he was seated far across the room and surrounded by a gaggle of friends. You might as well have been invisible, the way he did not acknowledge you. Maybe you should treat it as a small mercy.

Unwittingly, your eyelids grow heavy. You're sitting in the back of the class, no one would notice if you took a little nap right? Assured by the fact no one will notice, you lower your head into your folded arms and let your thoughts float.

You dream of vaguely nothing but shadows of smiles, tufts of dark hair, and the smell of the wind at sea until a noise confined to the shape of your name breaks the harmony.

"[y/n?]"

"[y/n?]"

You startle awake with pairs of eyes piercing their gazes at you. Swallowing thickly, you apologize to Mr.Berner who looks worried. He's a good teacher, and one of your favorites.

"I'm sorry Mr.Berner. I had a migraine so I laid my head down." You lie smoothly, with more grace than you knew you were capable of. Course, you could have just said you were taking an unprompted nap, but that would disappoint your lovely teacher.

He sighs, "Guess that can't be helped then. Go to the nurse ok?"

Bingo. The nurse was an understanding lady, she'd let you sleep the rest of the period off. You nod, and start to gather your materials, relieved the class' attention on you was beginning to dwindle.

"Wait, Mr.Berner, let me take her. What if she gets disoriented and falls in the hall?"

Fuuuuck. You should have known. You should have expected this because attached to the request dripping with faux concern was none other than the precious jewel of the kingdom. Eren's intrusion makes your peers perk up again at the scene unfolding in front of them.

You smile, lips tightly pressed, "I'll be fine. I don't want to distract anyone from the lesson and it's a short walk-

"It's still potentially dangerous.", Your teacher interrupts, pinching the bridge of the nose, "And while I'm completely surprised by Eren's sudden streak of altruism, he's right. Something could happen. He'll take you there safely."

A very convenient streak of altruism, all right. You think it over in your head, yeah the nurses' office is right down the hall, and once you're there, he'll leave. Sure, he'll taunt you but you can handle a few minutes worth of cruelty.

It's awkward getting up, and walking in front of the class while Eren props the door open like a gentleman. You know what a sharp contrast it must look like, you and him, you cowering into yourself, not meeting any eyes while he stands tall and confident.

"Do you have everything?" His tone is one of reassurance, and for the barest of the moments, feels too familiar. You know he's not being genuine right now, and for the first time, you question if he was genuine back then.

"You can hold onto my arm if you're too dizzy to walk." He says as you guys slip out of the classroom, purposefully a little too loudly. You hear coos from girls and a stray "She's so lucky!"

He must have heard it too, because he lowers his head to whisper into your ear, "Yeah, very lucky, aren't you?" Wisps of dark hair tickle your cheeks. You see the glint of tiny silver hoops and wonder when he had gotten his ears pierced. The illusion breaks and the performative charming prince's reassuring smile is replaced by a sneer.

"Didn't know you could lie like that, by the way. Some good girl you are if you're trying to ditch class like this." Fingers dig deep into your waist as he drags you along the empty hallway that seems to stretch on for miles.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, "How did you know I was lying?"

Viridian eyes narrow, "I've seen you get migraines before." There's a knock on your heart. As if realizing he was talking about something far away ago, a vindictive edge laces into words pouring out of his mouth, "I bet you wanted this to happen, didn't you? Wanted to get us all alone."

He's trying to get a rise out of you, that much is obvious. So you ignore him to the best of your ability.

...which quickly proved to be futile, as you suddenly find your arm pinned to your back, and your front facing the nearest walls.

"I asked you a fucking question bitch." He's practically growling, "Fucking answer me."

If there was a world record for the shortest temper, best believe Eren Yeager will have collected that accolade too. He's getting too worked up, and you could definitely feel his harness poking the back on your ass, as he grinds into you.

You manage to crane your neck, wanting to have your face shoved into the wall, and then venomously spit out, "You're not looking for answers. You just want me to repeat whatever you think is true."

This position brings back flashbacks to the library when he caged you in against the bookshelves, and like then, he spins you around to face him quite abruptly.

His smile is full of sharp teeth, "No. I know I'm right."

You don't respond. He moves in closer, his breath fanning on your earlobes. Your body can't help but let an involuntary shudder, and you close your eyes, not wanting to see his pleased grin or the way the fluorescent light makes his hoops gleam like silver bullets.

One calloused finger flicks your nipple, "Do you want to know why I'm right?"

At your lack of response, the dark-haired boy rolls your nipple in between his fingers before pinching it painfully, eliciting a small whimper out of your fuckable lips. "N-no", you answer finally. You're wearing your thinnest bra because of the seasonal heat, and you can't help but regret that decision right now. The fact he's only paying attention to one of your nipples is driving you insane. Not that you want it, but you're so fucking sensitive right now. You struggle in his hold, causing him to hold you tighter, and by now his nails were probably embedded into your skin.

He chuckles at your honesty, rewarding you with a thick stripe of his tongue over the collared shirt of your uniform making you gasp. Did he just-, over your shirt too-, you look down and see a very visible wet spot.

Taking advantage of your distracted state, a eager hand snakes under your skirt until it settles in the middle of your panties. He licks your earlobe before speaking, his voice like ice under your heels.

"You were so fucking wet that day in the library while saying you hated me the entire time," he pauses as his fingers scissor you through your panties, as if to drive the message home, "About as wet as you are right now."

There's a wet spot there too, also caused by him. You crush your eyes shut, "Eren...please just take me to the nurse." You're not even struggling anymore, holding onto him out of your own accord, worried that if you don't hold onto anything-you'd fall on your knees.

The very headache you lied about having seemed not so non-existent after all.

Eren hooks his arms under the plush of your thighs, "Yeah. Of course, that's what I came to do, right?"

*

You had hoped you'd be granted a reprieve in the nurses' office but you'd forgotten that luck was never really in your favor. Because while you guys had entered the squeaky-clean office, the nurse was nowhere in sight.

Instead, a note sat on her desk in unassuming frilly cursive that Eren read with glee.

Sorry students! Minor emergency to take care of, and I'll be back by the middle of the next period. If you're badly hurt, see Mr.Ackerman in room 203. If not, just sit tight! Feel free to take up the beds.

Thank you,

Ms.Ral

Eren had turned to you with shining green eyes, "Since no one's here, I guess I'll have to keep you company. Don't want you to hurt yourself."

There was something claustrophobic about how Eren stood in front of the door as if to signify to get out of here, you had to get through him.

"Maybe I can get Mr.Ackerman..."

Eren's sudden bout of laughter makes you wince and retreat inside of yourself, "For what? A fake headache? You really wanna inconvenience him like that? Mr.Ackerman?"

You take slow steps backward until the back of your knees hit the school bed, making you stumble as you clumsily take a seat. Eren's been marching forward with every retreating step you took, and it's no surprise when he pushes you down the bed, strong hands on the side of your head, while his muscular legs force your thighs apart so he can settle himself in between.

"We have some time to kill, you know." Strands of dark hair fall into his eyes, and without thinking, you reach upwards to brush them aside.

He grips your wrist before you make it that far, nearly gritting out a "What are you doing?"

You just stare, not really knowing why that was your impulse either. Finally, you mouth out, "I want you to leave Eren."

The grip on your wrist is tighter than ever, and you very well know that you're going to have new finger-shaped bruises before the old ones even finish healing.

"And I want to stay." He punctuates each word slowly, and all you can think is how being pinned to a bed is much less painful than having the hard surface of wood digging onto your back.

You're fully aware of the heat in your core, and having Eren on top of you doesn't make this it any easier because fuck, he is attractive. Maddeningly so. And maybe you want him to go away so bad because you're afraid that if his fingers are caught inside of you, you'll thank him for it.

As if reading your mind, he lets go of your wrist (making a mental note of your sluggish movements and slipping resistance) and massages your warm hole from your panties.

"Eren please" You grit out. He merely chuckles, "What are you asking for, whore?"

You could feel tears threatening to fall. This was so embarrassing. Did you want this? Yes, yes. yes, yes. You were so wet right now and had enough of the teasing.

He alternated his kneading from slow and soft to fast and rough, and you couldn't help but let out the prettiest little moans Eren's ever heard. Since you lose all pretenses of resistance, his other hand roughly brushes against your hardened nipples, straining against the fabric of your shirt.

Okay, he decided. He's going to make you beg.

"Beg." It's announced like a command, and while you hear it, you don't really register it because your hips are busy chasing the heat, and it's all too much of an utter disappointment when his long thin fingers leave.

"I said beg slut."

"Eren, please, please. I need you so bad." You're blubbering and you don't care. You just want his pretty fingers to shove aside your panties and rub against your folds. You think back to the library, how wet you were, how the stupid fucking phone call from his coach interrupted him pumping his fingers inside of you. And you didn't know if you were happy or mad he left. But now, all you crave is the blissful wave of pleasure- the very pleasure he's been denying you.

Eren looks down at you, green eyes scrutinizing. After a long while of what it seems to be him just staring, he wipes his fingers on your skirt, brushes back his hair with a wayward hand.

"Looks like I should head back to class. See you later."

Too numb to say anything, you watch him leave with a smirk on his face. When you're sure he's walked away, you curl into yourself and cry.

#attack on titan fanfiction #eren x y/n #tw dubcon #bully eren yeager #bullying #toxic eren #yandere eren x reader #eren x reader

[whimsicallyreading]

For Day 29 of Rowaelin Month

“A song fic-“

The song- “Always Been You” by Quinn XCII

CW- Mentions of miscarriage and divorce

"I can't believe you right now."

Rowan looks at his wife in frustration. She's sitting at the end of their bed, staring listlessly at the wall. The skirt of the red dress she's wearing is wrinkled, and his heart aches when he notices the mascara marks on her cheeks.

"Aelin," Rowan tries again to reach for her, but she leans away from his grasp.

"No, Rowan. I'm done."

Rowan takes a long swing from the beer in front of him. The time on his phone alerts him that he's spent most of the evening sulking at his bar.

The guys had invited him to dinner, but Rowan hadn't felt like going in light of his current situation. Instead, choosing to meander to the shady little pub they'd passed by coming from the airport.

His lawyer had sent him numerous emails. Documents to sign, agreements to approve, and papers he needed to read through before sending them to the judge.

Divorce was a pain, and Aelin wasn't making it easy.

"Hey, bud. I thought I might find you here." Fenrys slides onto the barstool next to his.

Rowan sighs and rubs the lines forming on his forehead. "Well, I thought it was obvious I didn't want company."

"Too bad. Drinking alone isn't a good look on you." Fenrys raises a hand and motions for another round of beers. "How are things going with ya know?"

"Shitty. She's never paid a dime of rent on that apartment, but she wants the lease signed into her name and for me to front the first four months of rent." Rowan cracks a peanut between his finger. He has no intent to eat the growing pile in front of him. He just craved the satisfaction of breaking something.

"Well, have you talked to her about that?" Fenrys frowns in sympathy, knowing how equally attached both parties were to the little rental.

Rowan laughs mirthlessly. "No, she said that it was better if our conversations were mediated. I always knew Aelin was catty, but she's acting like such a-"

"Don't." Fenrys gives Rowan a severe look. "I know you are upset, but don't start saying shit you'll regret."

Rowan pauses and reluctantly nods his agreement. It's the alcohol talking. He knew the problems that had festered his marriage were predominantly his responsibility.

He takes a deep breath, but a heaviness seems to keep the air from reaching his lungs fully. The weight was slowly becoming too familiar, starting the day Aelin had presented him with the papers.

Rowan wishes he'd done more. Wishes he'd paid more attention and seen the signs of Aelin's unhappiness.

The day Aelin had broken down in their bedroom had been a cold wake-up call but by then? It was already too late.

"You missed our anniversary Rowan." Aelin shouts and pulls her heels off angrily.

Rowan picks up a shoe and tries to hand it back to her. "I know. I'm sorry. It's not too late, though. We can still go out? There's still time to salvage-"

Aelin turns away from him and seems to fold in on herself. Rowan wants to reach out. He wants to hold her, but something dark is building in the air.

"I don't want your leftovers, Rowan," Aelin whispers. "That's all I get anymore—your leftover time. Your leftover attention. Whatever leftover resentment you bring home from work."

"Aelin-" he tries to cut off her depressive spiral, but she's not finished.

"You used to call me during the day." Aelin's voice cracks, and he realizes she's crying. "Every day, you would call me on your break. Now you don't even call when you leave town."

"Baby, just listen to me." He puts his hands on her shoulders, but Aelin breaks his grasp to turn around and look at him.

"Is there someone else?" Her eyes are wide and vulnerable. So unlike his regular Aelin."

"What?" His brain is struggling even to formulate a reply. Rowan's lack of response only causes Aelin to worry more.

Something in her cracks. There's a quiver to her lips, and her face drains of color. "Oh. Oh no."

"Aelin. I swear there is no one else." Rowan finally says, but it's too late.

"Is," Aelin presses the heels of her hands against her eyes. "Is it because I lost the baby?" She sucks in a hiccupping breath. "You've always wanted kids. So did I, but my fucking body doesn't work."

Aelin closes her eyes, and Rowan knows she's speaking more to herself than him, but her words gut him just the same. "My body doesn't work right. I keep giving us false hopes and wasting money on pregnancy tests. Of course, you would look for a woman who can give you what you want."

He's surprised by the sudden flare of anger in him. "Don't put words in my mouth. That will never be your fault."

They'd known right from the start their journey to parenthood would be a long one. Aelin had a family history of complicated fertility. It had seemed so trivial when they got married. Yet even knowing there could be issues, nothing quite prepared them for the pain of a miscarriage.

Aelin sniffles, unable to force back her grief, "But you resent me. Don't you?"

Rowan doesn't reply.

"It's rough," Rowan admits out loud. "I let a lot get left unsaid. I was hurt and pushed her away. Now she won't even speak to me without a lawyer present."

Fenrys nods, "It's all probably for the best. Once this is over, you guys can put this drama behind you."

"I wish it were that easy," Rowan knocks back the rest of his beer. He grimaces at the drink. It's not taking hold quickly enough.

Fenrys raises an eyebrow. "You both will be able to shut the book on this chapter of your lives and move on? Considering how bloody you two have been fighting, it sounds ideal."

They sit in silence. Fenrys takes the peanut basket away from Rowan and picks at the shells. The bartender comes by, and disgruntledly eyes Rowan's pile of crumbs as he orders a whiskey neat.

Fen was like his little brother, but Rowan found it hard to admit his real problem to him aloud. "I still love her."

The basket goes flying over the side of the counter, and Fenrys chokes on his beer. "What?"

Rowan can't look him in the eye, "We lost a baby. It was early. Aelin didn't want to tell everyone. Three years we tried to get pregnant, and finally, a test comes back positive. She was so happy."

"Shit," Fenrys says quietly. "I'm so sorry."

"It was there, and then it was gone. I thought Aelin was fine. She cried for a week, but then it was like a switch flipped, and she was back to normal." Rowan clenches a napkin in his fist. "I was devastated. It hurt like hell, but I didn't want to send her back into a depression." Rowan shakes his head at how stupid he'd been. "So I put some distance between us. I didn't want her to think I was upset with her."

"I didn't feel better," Rowan sips the whiskey, relishing the warmth. "It made me mad that she got over it so quickly, and I couldn't. I didn't realize that I was growing that space between us. I didn't understand how much guilt she harbored and that she tried to be strong for me. Not until she broke."

"We fought. I said all the wrong things. Aelin couldn't take it anymore, she left, and I didn't stop her." Rowan leans his head on his hands and elbows against the counter. "She's the love of my life, and I watched her walk out the door."

Fenrys sucks in a breath and sighs. "You are my best friend, and I mean this in the most loving way possible. Why the hell are you here?"

"What?" Rowan looks at Fenrys annoyed face.

"Get out of here. Go. I'll tell the boss you have ebola or some shit." Fenrys fishes his wallet out and throws cash on the bar. "I'll even cover the tab. Just leave. Now."

"What? I don't understand?"

Fenrys looks at Rowan like he's stupid. "No offense, but you are about as interesting as a brick wall. The fact you caught a girl like Aelin is astonishing. If you love her, are you honestly going to let her go on being miserable?"

"She's not miserable," Rowan scoffs.

Fenrys laughs bitterly. "You forget I'm pals with Aedion too? Aelin winds up at his house almost every evening crying her eyes out. You two are still hopelessly in love. You're just dumb and badly in need of a good conversation."

"Aelin is upset?" A sense of disbelief washes over him.

"Yes! She misses you, but she's under the impression you are off sleeping around." His face saddens. "I told Aedion you weren't. He knows I go on all of these trips with you. Aelin's just upset you're gone and needs to believe in something that can help her let go."

Rowan stands up, swaying. "I have to go."

"Hell yeah, you do. Give Aelin my love," Fenrys waves as Rowan vates the bar like a hawk out of hell.

Aelin sets the stack of papers in front of him.

Rowan had been camping out in his office ever since there disaster of an anniversary. He'd texted a few times, but every time they talked, it was like relighting a fuze. Things weren't getting better.

"What are these?" Rowan asks without looking up from his screen.

"Your ticket to freedom," Aelin sits in the chair across from him.

She looks thin, thinner than she did when Arobynn was her foster father. It physically hurts Rowan that he's causing her that kind of stress. Glancing at the papers, she slapped in front of him. His blood becomes like an ice river through his body. "Aelin-"

"I'm not the one for you. That's apparent now. I won't hold you hostage in a marriage that you aren't happy in." Aelin blinks, and a tear slides down her face. He wants to wipe it away, but he's beyond angry. She was giving up on them.

"If this is what you want," Rowan slides the papers towards him and pulls out a pen.

Rowan is racing the familiar paths to their apartment. He doesn't care that it's almost four in the morning. The plane ride between Perranth and Ornyth is mercifully short, but he can't force himself to wait another minute.

"Aelin," he yells through their door. "Baby, answer me. Open the door."

Rowan's fists tap a consistent rhythm on the door, and his heart skips a beat when a bedraggled Aelin finally appears. "Rowan, do you know what time it is?"

She's in a pair of grey flannel pajamas, not one of her usual silky numbers. Aelin's eyes are red around the edges, and her face is still dewy from the excessive amount of lotion he knows she loves to put on. Rowan knows all of her routines. All of her favorite outfits, comfort movies, and best memories. He knows the scar she has on her left hand from an abusive foster father. Rowan remembers how the bridge of her nose wrinkles when she's upset in the same spot her cousin's does.

He knows everything about her, because not only were they husband and wife, they were best friends.

How could he have let that go?

Before Aelin can ask any more questions, Rowan has swept her into his arms. "I missed you so damn much."

"Rowan, have you been drinking?" Aelin asks in a voice cracked with emotion.

His hands are running up her back, and his knows burrows into her hair. He's always loved the smell of her jasmine shampoo. "Fireheart, I never resented you for losing the baby."

"Rowan, I don't want to talk about this," Aelin tries to push him away, but he squeezes her into his chest, and she melts.

That had been his mistake. He should have held Aelik like this and never let her go on pretending to be happy. How could he know everything about this woman and not have seen past her facade? She'd suffered. His own pain had blinded him.

"Aelin, I've made so many mistakes lately." Rowan rubs the back of Aelin's neck the way she likes, and he can feel the sobs starting to build up inside of her. "But the greatest shame of my life is not being there for you when you needed me. I was stupid, Fireheart. I'm not going to be stupid any longer. This separation can't go on, we aren't any happier for it, and I can't live knowing I'm away from the other half of my soul."

Aelin cracks, and he can feel the tears wetting the front of his shoulder. "You were never home. I thought there was someone else, someone who could give you the things you wanted because I can't."

Her whole form is shuddering his arms, and Rowan squeezes tighter as if he can hold her broken pieces together. "It's always been you. I don't care if we adopt or never have any kids at all. All I need is you, baby. You are all I've ever needed."

Suddenly, hands are in Rowan's hair as Aelin crushes their lips together. The kiss is frantic, a relief of the stress they'd carried upon their shoulders.

"I missed you too," Aelin whispers in between kisses. “Gods I mussed you so much.”

The rest of their night is filled with soothing words, frantic kissing, and murmured apologies. Rowan kisses the tears from her cheeks and Aelin looks into his eyes like she’s home. Nail dig into skin as they promise never to be apart again.

For the first time in months they sleep in the same bed. Rowan sinks into a deep restful sleep with his wife in his arms once more. He loves the way her cold toes search out his heat. How Aelin fits so perfectly against his chest. When he wakes up and she’s still there, his heart nearly features from relief.

After months of pain, it's the beginning of their walk towards healing.

The days after aren't perfect. They had legal issues to sort back out, more problems to lay bare to the sunlight. There was arguing, but it lacked actual heat, and they didn't walk away feeling unloved at the end. No longer did they fight to land barbs. Their bickering now served to work towards solutions and to express needs.

Between struggles, the love began to grow back. Rowan kept his job at work, and when he was home, it was about them. He started calling her on his breaks again, and it always astonished him how much he missed the sound of her voice. They both strived to communicate their feelings better and actually listen instead of reacting.

Aelin surprised him with romantic dates, and Rowan read pages of her favorite books to her at night. They danced in the kitchen and laughed at their favorite shows.

Fixing their marriage was hard work, but Rowan and Aelin didn't mind. The separation proved that neither of them wanted a life without the other. It was to whatever end, and they wouldn't accept anything less for them.

On one Sunday morning, Rowan opens his eyes and realizes that Aelin isn't on her side of the bed. Panic surges in him, and he looks around to make sure her things are still there.

They are, and the tension eases from his shoulders until he hears soft crying from the bathroom. Darting out of bed, he grabs Aelin's bathrobe and knocks on their bathroom door. "Aelin, what's wrong?"

Had he screwed something up? Was she sick?

The lock clicks, granting him silent permission for him to come inside. Rowan pushes the door open and finds Aelin crying on the side of the tup. With gentle hands, he wraps her robe around her and throws an arm over her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

Aelin looks up at him, a radiant smile on her face. "Look."

Rowan glances down to her clenched fists and-

He blinks, once, twice. Aelin laughs at his dumbfounded face, and it breaks his paralysis. Rowan grabs her around the waist and spins her around the cramped bathroom, the positive pregnancy test clattering to the floor.

Aelin's arms wrap around his neck. The emotion in the room is raw and bittersweet, but there's a hopefulness that can't be denied. Rowan holds her tight as they process the news. When they break apart, the love between them is palpable. They had another shot at this, a fresh start.

Hards times would come and go, but good days were never far behind for them. Because for Aelin and Rowan, it's always been them.

And that's all they needed.

#throne of glass #rowaelin #fanfic #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelinmonth #angst #tog #sjmaas #throne of glass fanfiction #song fic #rowan x aelin #fenrys #day 29

[mrs-gucci]

I’m going to try come up with other ideas lol but these jumped out at me. I would absolutely use these for something! I’m saving them too because I just might!

But if you feel like it, these combined scenarios could be really fun for a sarcastic, grouchy ass Flip or Kylo AU. It could be anything from enemies to antagonists to the guy being in trouble with you currently from doing stupid shit and trying to make up with you! Anything you think!

your enemy has been badly wounded, and somebody needs to bandage them up, so you agree to help them, and suddenly they're shirtless, and you can't help but admire their body, something this cheeky motherfucker takes notice of

there's only one bed, but this time, they're arguing over who should sleep on the floor, which nobody agrees to, so instead they end up sharing, incredibly annoyed over having to share their space (it’s not like friends to lovers, in which they both awkwardly get into bed. this is straight up just. i will set this bed on fire if you don’t stay on your side)

The Longest Knight {Sir Kylo Ren x Reader}

author's notes: hello, hello! shannon, dear, you always seem to know what I'm in need of when you send requests in. I've been dying for an excuse to write some medieval/knight Kylo, and this fits in perfectly with that AU, so thank you! <3

**THERE ARE SOME DARK(ER) THEMES IN THIS STORY, BUT ONLY AT THE VERY BEGINNING (there’s an indicator of when the dark content ends, in bold, you can’t miss it). PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS AND TW’S BEFORE PROCEEDING!**

warnings: some angst. some gore. some fluff. smut. enemies-with-benefits. sex w/o feelings. kylo is a huge douche (but in, like, a lowkey sexy way). 

tw's: (at the very beginning): dead bodies & blood, vivid depictions of wounds/injuries, brief depictions of battle, implied (battle-related) murder. mentions of sex work (later on in the story, not relating to the reader character).

word count: 4.4k

terms to know: loincloth: groin-covering cloth tied around the waist (literally just underwear). bedswerver: “adulterer” (an insult). mamillare: medieval breast band (bra).

When the sounds of marching footfall, deep cries of manly battle, and shod hooves pounding on the drought-hardened ground had ceased from the air, you saddle your horse and ride out to the far field of your property. 

The putrid smell of rotting flesh hits you before any bodies are even in view. Your prized stallion slows his trot, nostrils flaring and ears perked forward as the scene of battle presents itself to both of you.

He begins to snort and whinny in acute panic at the sight of so many corpses, both human and horse. Your stomach begins to churn, and you can barely bring yourself to look upon the scene as your heel encourages him onward, wanting to make sure there aren’t any surviving soldiers. 

Both sides seem to have suffered great loss, although you’re unsure which corpses belong to which side. The conflict betwixt Alderaan and Naboo has been dragging on much too long, and at the end of the day, is any conflict truly worth all of the lives lost?

You certainly didn’t think so, but perhaps you’re just too close to this war, incapable of having an unbiased opinion due to the loss of your beloved husband at the hands of Sir Kylo Ren, the Alderaanean calvary general and the most feared man across all five kingdoms. 

As you make your rounds to check for survivors, much to the dismay of your steed, you quickly lose almost all hope that anyone laid here ended up surviving the brutality apparently brought down upon them during the fight. 

Suddenly, your horse lifts himself up on hinds legs ever so slightly, jogging in place as a barely-audible groan comes from one of the men. His hand moves ever so slightly, and you quickly rush over to him, dismounting with a small first aid bag.

His helmet is that of a high-ranking official, but on which side he belongs, it’s too hard to tell. Not that it truly matters, you’d take just about any man with the courage to fight these battles.

“Sir?” You say, kneeling down beside the large man. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

He grunts lowly, winter-chapped lips opening in an attempt to speak. “S-Stomach.”

Once your mind registers his husky words, you look down at his abdomen and see that his armor seems to have been compromised in a spot right on the side of his stomach. Fresh blood seeps from the deep wound, and you cringe, grabbing one of the towels from your pack to gently wipe away some of the blood, but the tear in flesh is so deep, it’s impossible to do with just one towel. **dark content warnings ENDS**

“My estate is just a short ride from here. I cannot hold your weight myself, but if you can mount my horse, I will take you back and mend your wounds to the best of my ability.”

The mask nods softly, slowly but surely lifting himself up off the ground, wobbling towards your horse, who snorts nervously. He seemingly understands the severity of the situation, though, and stands still as the knight sits himself on his back. 

From there, he lays back, breath catching in his throat as his injuries are tweaked with each of the horses’ strides. You hold onto the reins, leading your stallion back to the house. 

After quite a bit of maneuvering and a lot of quarreling with the injured knight, you finally manage to set him up the cot in your spare bedroom. He sits down on the chair as you do so, mumbling and grumbling about his pain. You found it quite annoying, really, but you can’t really blame him for acting in such a way.

“You’ll need to remove your armor, sir. I cannot treat your wounds with it on.”

“By God’s bones.” He curses under his breath in annoyance, but stands and removes his body armor nonetheless.

Piece by piece is peeled from his body, his physically intimidating figure revealed slowly to your curious eyes. Only his under-layers were left, soon enough, and you found it a bit odd that he hadn’t taken his helmet off first. You would think that would be a great relief to have the proper air exposure on your face, but you’re not really in a place to make assumptions about that sort of thing.

His brilliantly alabaster skin is severely bloodied, bruised, and badly butchered. He would require quite some time to heal and recover, but if you learned anything from being married to an army man, it’s that they’re all stubborn bastards who never take the proper time to allow time for their bodies to properly heal.

He’s soon fully exposed to you, minus his helmet and threadbare loincloth, and you have to look away quickly as your cheeks heat up. The small garment left very little to the imagination, and this knight was...well endowed, to put it kindly.

Putting your own personal feelings aside for the betterment of the patient, you look back up at him with a small smile. “You may remove your helmet now, good sir.”

“I cannot reach up to grab it from my head.” He says in a flat, unamused voice.

“Of course.” You scold yourself for not thinking of that. “Well, if you lay down on the cot, I shall remove it for you.”

Instead of protest, which is what you expected, he complied with your instructions and laid down on the cot. He grunts satisfyingly at the comfort of a mattress, most likely used to sleeping on the ground.

When you reach for the bottoms of his helmet to pull it off, he suddenly snatches your wrist, stopping you instantly.

“If you need touch me, ask before doing so.” His voice is nothing more than a growl.

You almost roll your eyes, starting to truly become annoyed with this knight. You invited him into your home and you’re willing to be his bedside nurse...and he has the audacity to request something like this.

Again you’re forced to put your personal feelings aside for the sake of your patient and for the maintenance of your bedside manner, forcing a smile onto your face. “With all due respect, sir, I’m your nurse for the time being. I will be needing to touch you quite often. Am I really expected to ask each and every time?”

“Yes.” He replies.

Your jaw clenches and you wish nothing more in this moment than to smack this man right across the face.

“Fine. May I please remove your helmet?”

Sparing you the assurance of a vocal reply, the mask simply nods, and you pull it over his head. When the face of your patient is revealed to your eyes, you’re appalled.

It’s Sir Kylo Ren...the man that murdered your husband.

You drop the helmet onto the ground, metal clattering as it rocks back and forth once it’s settled in one spot on the hardwood. This can’t be real.

He snarls. “Why are you looking upon me with that expression? Have you never seen a man before? I have wounds that need tended to, girl, and I’d like to be out of here before sundown.”

Anger begins to boil your blood, tears burning in your eyes as you look down at the man before you.

“You bastard.” Your hand raises, ready to strike him clean against the cheek. He catches your fist in his hand before you can, though.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.” Kylo warns, squeezing your fist. “I’ll have to have you beheaded for hitting an army man, and your head is much too pretty to be put to such waste.”

You snort, yanking yourself from his grip, teeth gritting as you walk out to fetch all the medical supplies. He’s wearing a cocky expression when you walk back in.

“I recognize you.” He says.

You huff, unamused. “How could you possibly recognize me? We’ve never met.”

His lips curl up into a devious smirk. “You’re right, we haven’t met before, but I recognize you from your husband’s description. I asked him what you looked like, since he was babbling on and on about you.”

You freeze up, bottom lip beginning to quiver as Sir Kylo continues.

“Then I drove my blade straight through his pathetic chest, and later that night, I touched myself as I thought of you.”

He chuckles deviously.

“Bedswerver!” You yell, cocking your fists once more and lunging at him, ready to strike once more. But then, you stop yourself, knowing the consequences you’d surely face should you actually hit him. 

Your fists lower and you simply say nothing, preparing the cloths in the warm water. The tears run down your cheeks on their own volition, but you quickly wipe them away before turning back towards him. 

“He wasn’t worthy of your company, Y/N.” Kylo says as you begin to clean the wounds on his stomach. “And he clearly didn’t satisfy you in the way you needed, considering the manner in which you looked over my body when I took my armor off.”

His hand reaches around and squeezes your ass, making you jump. 

“How long has it been, little lamb? A young woman like you shouldn’t have to live without a man to satisfy her aching need.”

You can’t pretend that you’re not aroused by his words, by his touch. But you’d never let him have you, not in a thousand years. So, you quickly swat his hand away and continue cleaning his wounds. “That’s none of your concern, Sir Kylo. I am perfectly content without a man and that’s all I’m going to say on the matter.”

He laughs. “That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. I bet you’re aching right now, just from my words and my simple touch.”

Before he can touch you further, you back away, limbs trembling with anger and frustration. You dunk the bloody rag back into the bowl of water, ring it out a bit, then throw it onto his chest.

“Clean the wounds yourself, since you can obviously move your hands and arms perfectly fine.” You say, wiping your own on a dry cloth. “I’ll be back to bandage you in a bit.”

“Don’t think of me too much, lamb. You’ll release too quickly.” He snickers as you slam the door shut behind you, bursting into tears the moment you step foot into your bedroom.

You sob quietly, the freshly-healed stitches of your heart popping open one at a time, the grief and pain of losing your beloved consuming you once more. 

And now you’re here, mending his killer.

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

It takes everything you have, every ounce of willpower, to wake up and face Sir Kylo every single day. You know you’re doing the right thing by helping him, but that doesn’t make dealing with him any easier.

He’s impossibly stubborn, arrogant beyond comprehension, and increasingly grumpy. But, you just have to keep going, keep pushing through, reminding yourself that each day brings you closer and closer to his inevitable departure.

You’ve all but blocked out his inappropriate and antagonizing comments or remarks, just getting his bandages replaced and then leaving the room as quickly as possible.

Today, though, he’s achieved a new level of jackassery, a thing you thought impossible until he did it. And boy, did he do it.

“I’ve made arrangements for a few whores to come and provide me some...company.”

Your fist tightens around the bandage in your hand. He smirks.

“You’re more than welcome to join us. There’s plenty of me to go around, little lamb. You’ll get your turn.”

“No, thanks. I think I’d rather stab myself with a sword.” You reply, beginning to switch out his bandages. “You’re lucky I’m even allowing it to occur in my house.”

He just chuckles. “You’d probably be bad, anyway.”

You suddenly rip the bandage off of his skin, causing him to cry out in pain. He looks at you, and you glare down at him. “Just...can you please just stop talking for once in your life? Must you always berate me when all I’ve done over the past few weeks is take care of you? Is this what kindness, genuine kindness, gets me?”

He suddenly seems to sober up, to let what he’s done to you sink in. It doesn’t last long, but you still see it. Perhaps he does have the capability to feel at least some sense of remorse.

Kylo stays quiet for the rest of the time you tend to his wounds, and when you turn to leave, the two words you’ve been convinced are not in his vocabulary, come from the behind you.

“Thank you.”

This sliver of empathy is short lived, especially after the girls from the local brothel make their way up to his room. 

“Oh! Oh! Sir Kylo!”

You shake your head, attempting to read in the study, which is located on the other side of house from the guest bedroom. Yet, their screams, cries and the various other lewd noises still manage to make their way to your ears.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” “Take it, whore, take it!” “Kyloooooooo!”

The temptation to go up there and kick the girls out is increasing by the second, but you don’t. Maybe this will help mellow him out a bit, make him more manageable.  Plus, you’re pretty sure that you’d have to carve your eyes out after walking in on whatever they’re doing up behind that closed door.

Unfortunately for you, it becomes progressively more difficult to focus on your book as the burn between your thighs intensifies. It’s been almost two years since your husband was murdered, which means that it’s been a little over that since you were last intimate with someone.

Normally, and up until Sir Kylo entered your household, you were more than fine subduing your sexual desires. You haven’t once touched yourself, not that you’d really know how to anyway, and you certainly weren’t about to start now.

You cross your legs, hoping that’ll quell some of the burning, but it only makes it worse. Another half an hour passes and your hand now rests on your thigh, slowly inching down towards your soaked and quivering pussy.

Just a quick touch won’t hurt...he doesn’t have to know...

Luckily, a knock at the door brings your motions to a stop. You sigh in relief, walking over to open the door. When you do, you’re met with a bandaged bare torso, a very muscular bare torso. His skin glistens with sweat and the smell of sex radiates from his essence. 

He’s still breathing heavily as he stands in the doorway, looking down at you.

“We’re finished upstairs.” He says breathily. “I’m due for my afternoon bandage change, whenever you’re ready.”

You watch him saunter away, admiring the way his muscles stretch and tense with each stride. You’re burning up by now, both your skin and your arousal, and you wonder how you’re going to get through this next bandage change. 

When you enter the room, the musk of sex is thick in the air, humidity at a suffocating level. You try to ignore it, try not to let it get to you, but it’s just surrounding you. 

Your skin begins to glisten, brow furrowed as you focus on trying to change these bandages as quickly as possible. Kylo seems to take notice of your hurry, your sudden perspiring.

“Is something wrong?” He asks you, biting back a smirk. “You seem flustered.”

Nodding, you continue on with the bandaging.  “I’m fine, just a bit warm is all.”

Kylo hums, reaching down to grab your wrist as you reach up to re-bandage the wound on his chest. He brings your fingers up to his lips, sucking the tips into his mouth gently, tongue swiping over the pads of your digits.

You try to pull away, to leave before you do something you regret, but his hold on you is firm. And if you’re honest with yourself, you don’t actually want him to stop.

Oh lord, this is bad. It’s so wrong. You shouldn’t want this. He murdered your husband, the man you loved. He’s so smug and cocky and yet...it’s what you’ve been wanting this whole time, the thing you’ve tried to suppress, to not let yourself want.

But now, everything else be damned, you want this. You need this. And damnit, you’re gonna have it.

His lips release your fingertips with a lewd pop! sound, an arrogant smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You haven’t tried to pull away or tell me off in a minute or two. Is everything alright?”

You huff. “Just do it.”

He raises his eyebrows, sitting up a little. “Do what? What do you want me to do, little lamb?”

“You know what I want.”

“Oh yes, I’m fully aware of what you want.” He smirks. “But I want to hear you say it out loud.”

You cross your arms on your chest, trying to ignore the twang of guilt that shoots through you as you prepare to say the words aloud.

“Fine. I want you to f-fuck me.”

“That’s right. I knew you wanted it.” Kylo takes your hand and trails it down his muscular abdomen, stopping just above where his loincloth sits on his hips.

“Take it off.”

You’re chewing your lip numb as you reach down and undo the tie holding the garment on. Your breath hitches as you slide it off, exposing his member, which is hardening steadily.

“Instead of staring, perhaps you’d like to try touching it?” He smirks.

You shoot him a glare. “Stop talking, for once in your life, please spare my ears the sound of your constant squabble.”

Kylo chuckles, putting his hands behind his head.

Your hand wraps around the base of his length, and he grunts softly. It’s your turn to wear a smirk.

“Oh, do you like that, Sir Kylo?”

He huffs. “Every man likes their cock being touched. Don’t go thinking that it means anything.”

You squeeze his shaft, drawing a deep grunt from his lips and small buck of his hips. He looks away, jaw clenched in an attempt to prevent any further noises. 

This fact only makes you more determined, hand pumping his cock with more vigor, alternating between different paces and pressures to really drive him crazy.

You’re thoroughly enjoying this, drinking in the sight of him trying his absolute hardest not to react to the touches that so obviously arouse him. You tease him even more, using your fingers to touch certain parts of his length. 

Well, it’s fun for the few minutes it lasts, but suddenly, you find yourself in his position, laid back on the cot. He’s on top of you, now, pushing the skirts of your dress up, fingers yanking the laces on your bodice.

He quickly pulls it off, followed by your skirts, leaving you in only your mamillare and your loincloth. His eyes roam your newly exposed skin for a moment before his hand slips down between your thighs, fingers pressing up against the fabric.

“I knew it. Were you listening, little lamb? Were you listening to me fuck those whores and wishing it was you?”

Your breath hitches. “Well, it was sort of hard not to listen when the girls were screaming.”

His fingers wrap around the waist tie, pulling them down to fully expose your wet heat. He smirks, rubbing around until he finds that one spot that has your back arching and a gasp escaping your lips.

Before he can even say anything, you reiterate his words in a mocking tone. “Every woman likes being touched there. Don’t go thinking that it means anything.”

He huffs, rubbing you harder.

“Tell me how wet you got when you heard me fucking those whores. Tell me that you wanted a turn on my cock, wondered how good I’d feel inside you.”

“N-No.” You say, a stern expression on your face. “I’ll never say that to you.”

His jaw clenches as he bends down, lips next to your ear. “You'll be screaming it once I’m done with you.”

Your eyes widen when his fingers slowly press up into your entrance. 

“Kylo...” You’ve never been touched in this way before. It’s...different, and not necessarily unpleasant.

He sees your hesitation. “Trust me, you’ll like it.”

And you did.

His digits begin moving in and out of you, curling up occasionally to stimulate a certain tender spot inside you. You’re biting down on your lip, surely hard enough to break the skin, trying your darndest not to give him the privilege of hearing your noises.

As you did to him, seeing you suppress your noises only spurs him on more, movements becoming quicker, swifter. Your orgasm draws closer with each skilled stroke, but just before you reach your peak, he pulls out.

You thought you wanted to hit him before; now, you kind of want to pop some of his abdomen stitches. 

“Why did you do that?”

He laughs devilishly, reaching down to pump his cock, slicking it with the juices of your arousal. “You didn’t think I’d actually let you get off that easily, did you?”

“Well, I was sort of hoping...”

You’re brought to silence when he crawls on top of you, trapping you beneath his massive form. His mushroom head swirls around your entrance, collecting some of your slick before pressing it inside of you.

It’s been quite a while since you’ve had anyone, and you don’t think you’ve ever had someone of his size before, so you gasp softly as he presses forth. Soon, his entire length is seated in you, stretching and filling you to the brim.

His eyes are squeezed shut, jaw clenched as he tries to remain still in order to allow you an adjustment period. Once you’ve had some time, he begins moving his hips, rolling them at a steady pace. 

“Knew you’d have a nice little cunt,” He growls, teeth baring. “So wet and tight for me, little lamb.”

You bite your numbing lip in an attempt to prevent any of the desperate moans or cries that want to escape. He’s doing something similar, jaw clenched tightly. 

Only the wet squelch and sharp snapping of skin colliding can be heard between the two of you, minus the occasional grunt or sharp inhale from either of you, which is quickly shut down almost as soon as it slips out.

Soon, you feel your climax begin to appear on the horizon, walls clenching and pulsing around his cock. He takes notice, quickly speeding his rhythm up, exhaling loudly through his flared nostrils.

He’s getting close, too, balls pulling up as his body prepares itself for orgasm. The energy between you two, as well as your physical movements, quickly turn desperate. 

“Don’t release inside me.”

“I’m flattered that you think I’d even want to.” He says, smugly.

You huff, rolling your eyes. “I see that even the throws of passion and ecstasy is still not enough to tamper your unbearable attitude.”

“There is nothing that can stop me from taking the opportunity to get a rise out of you, milady.” He smirks before his brows knit in the center of his forehead. “If you’re gonna cum, I suggest you do it s-soon.”

Your eyes flutter shut, hips attempting to lift up off the mattress, wanting him to hit that certain spot inside you. As soon as you find the right angle, a choked sob leaves your lips as you’re quickly brought and tossed over the edge.

Kylo groans softly, thrusting rapidly before pulling out at the last minute, spilling his seed all over your abdomen.

Both of you are breathless as you ride out your climaxes, basking in the peaceful bliss that washes over your body, basking in the luxury of his utter and complete silence. It was a welcome change, a much-needed reprieve from the past few weeks of dealing with him.

He eventually flops down onto the mattress beside you, grabbing and re-securing his loincloth around his hips. You’re already a bit sore from being stretched for the first time in two years.

“May I just sleep here tonight, Sir Kylo? Unless you’d like to carry me back over to my bedroom.”

The side-eye he gives you is incredibly humorous, but you contain your laughter, not wanting to add oil to the flame.

“I won’t be a bother. I will stay on this side of the cot; you’ll barely even know I’m here.”

“Are you truly incapable of walking yourself back to your bedroom after one session of fucking? Was I really that amazing that I’ve left you unable to move about the house?” He laughs.

"And suddenly, the pain of walking over to my room seems less painful than staying here and listening to your vexing squabble.”

Kylo huffs. “If you stay here for the night, you may not breach the center of the mattress. I will kick you out if you even come close to bumping into me or making any sort of physical contact.”

Mocking his words from earlier, you smirk. “I’m flattered that you think I’d even want to touch you.”

“Very funny.” He says, flatly, rolling over to face away from you. “Just stay on your fucking side of the bed.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up to braid your hair for bed before fluffing the goose-feather pillow beneath your head, settling down for the night. Soon, Sir Kylo’s obnoxious snores bounce off the walls and you put your pillow over your head, hoping to muffle the noise.

God, even his snores are arrogant.

-

The next morning, when your eyes flutter open at the first sign of light through the window, you find the sheets next to you vacant.

You sit up, eyebrows furrowed as you look around the room, ears open to listen for any noise anywhere in the house. You don’t hear anything.

Then, you see a piece of rolled up parchment on his pillow along with a small satchel. When you open the pouch, you’re shocked to see a pile of shiny coins. You unrolled the note, reading the sloppy script.

For the medical supplies and for your trouble. Here’s hoping our paths never cross again.

-Kylo

As you read the very brief and to-the-point note, you can practically hear his snide voice in your head reciting it. The cold, cocky tone of his words shone through the parchment and ink, incredibly so. You huff, tossing the note back onto the pillow before getting up to begin the day. 

Well...at least you’ll never have to see him again.

#mrs-gucci #mrs-gucci requests #mrs-gucci writes kylo ren #sir kylo ren #knight!kylo ren #knight kylo ren #knight kylo #adcu #adcu fanfiction #adcu community #adcu fanfic #medieval au #medieval kylo #kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x reader smut #kylo ren smut #tw: dead body #tw: blood #tw: gore #depictions of battle #tw: wounds #implied murder #tw: sex work #adam driver #adam driver character #adam driver smut

[sharkbait77]

The Singer (Marcus Pike x f!reader)

Chapter Three

Warnings: Mention of food/alcohol, language, pure fluffy fluffiness (I'm such a softie I'm sorry 😭)

W/C: 4.2k

A/N: Notes at the bottom! And I'm running out of gifs to use of scruffy faced Marcus. I'm gonna have to shave him soon 👀 I hope you enjoy our soft boi in this chapter! 🥰

Just as a reference if you need help understanding the different formats:

«Phone conversation on their end»

Thoughts

Text messages

Song mentioned:

Chapter Two | Chapter Four

The Singer Masterlist

Gif by me! Yes it's Teresa but it still fits & I only care that it's his hand lol

«Oh my god, I'm melting!» Celina yells in her phone enthusiastically. You giggle as you wait for her eagerness to calm down.

You had barely taken your shoes and jacket off after getting inside your apartment when you immediately dialed up Celina's number to tell her about the night. You feel like you're having an out of body experience. Sure, your heart is still guarded and unfortunately, you'll most likely have your doubts throughout the relationship, but you truly feel like this could go somewhere. You want to give yourself that chance and allow Marcus to help heal your heart, maybe doing the same for him in return.

"So he's picking me up on Saturday and I'm freaking out a little," you say and chew on the skin around your nail beds.

«Why? Don't be! Just treat it like how you did tonight!» She encourages.

"But it's a legitimate date this time, I have to do my hair and makeup perfectly and find the perfect outfit and-"

«Girl, have you seen your closet? You have nothing but perfect outfits!» She teases and you chuckle, lowering your fingers from your mouth.

«You don't need to try to be perfect hun, just be yourself! Be the girl he has already seen in front of him.» You smile at her heartfelt words. «I bet he's already in love with you!»

"Okay, you're not helping!" You laugh, placing your hand on your forehead. "I'll talk to you later, I'm going to try and get some sleep. I'll probably be calling you on Saturday so I can freak out some more."

You say your goodbyes and hang up, sinking yourself into your couch and smiling widely. Your head is buzzing from a sugar rush, but you can't tell if it's because of the pancakes or because of Marcus. You walk to the kitchen to make some sleepytime tea, hoping it'll relax your nerves enough for you to get some shut eye.

* * * *

You take a shower and climb into your comfy pajamas and the tea works its magic as you relax on your plush bed, surrounding yourself with pillows and your soft blanket enveloping you in warmth. Your eyes get heavy and you feel yourself on the brink of sleep when you hear your phone vibrate on the nightstand. You try to ignore it, but it vibrates again and you figure it's Celina probably sending you a funny video. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you reach over to grab your phone, the brightness from the screen stinging your eyes from the time they had adjusted to the darkness. You blink a few times until you can see the screen clearly.

555-9057: Hi Dulce :)

555-9057: Made it home. I had a great time :)

You bite your lip and smile at the messages on your lock screen, heat flashing through your head seeing him call you the nickname you gave yourself in his phone. And just like that, you're wide awake again. You unlock your phone and before you can type a reply, he sends another message.

555-9057: It's Marcus btw

Marcus groans to himself as he sends that last message. What the hell was that? Of course she knows it's you. Dumbass. He watches the screen and holds his breath when he sees the text bubbles pop up and he waits nervously for your reply.

Dulce💋: I'm glad you specified! Right after you dropped me off another guy took me out for dulce de leche pancakes and I also penned myself as Dulce in his phone 🤭

He chuckles out loud in the quiet atmosphere of his apartment, the sound bouncing against the walls and reverberating around the living room. Damn, she's good.

555-9057: Okay okay you got me, don't have to be so mean :P

So he's a classic emoji kind of guy, you smile as you make a note and file it in the little 'Marcus Pike' folder in your brain. You hit his phone number and tap the plus symbol to make a new contact in your phone. For some reason, you find yourself struggling as you try to figure out what to put his contact name as.

Agent Cutie

Nope, delete.

Agent Pike

What are you, his secretary? Delete delete.

Marcus

Should I put an emoji? Which one? Can't be a heart. You are seriously overthinking this.

Marcus Pike

Yeah, okay. I guess.

Me: Why did it take so long to get home? Do you live far?

Marcus Pike: It was about 30 min from your place :) not too bad

Thirty minutes?! Great, now I feel bad.

Dulce💋: Wth if I had known I wouldn't have let you drop me off! 🙄

Me: Don't worry about it! I was more than happy to ;)

Shit shit shit I didn't mean the wink! Why are they right next to each other?! Do I say something? Oh god, way to go, you ruined it.

Dulce💋: Then I'll give you gas money!

Marcus takes a breath of relief when he sees that you sidestepped his accidental wink emoji. After he catches his breath, his phone chimes again.

Dulce💋: And I won't take no for an answer 😉

Okay, there's no way she sent that by accident. Is she flirting with me? Do I flirt back? Why are my hands so sweaty?

Dulce💋: It's time for bed, those pancakes made me sleepy 😴 good night Marcus ☺️ See you Saturday!

Marcus smiles to himself and he anticipates seeing you on Saturday. He sends you another text and walks to his restroom to take a quick shower before climbing in bed.

Marcus Pike: Can't wait :) good night!

There's no way you can sleep now, but you said good night for his sake; he had a long day at work, plus he took you out and then had a long drive home. You know he must be tired. Your heart races as you scroll through your short text conversation, rereading the messages and giggling softly.

Did he mean to wink? It was probably an accident, considering he types out emojis instead of using the newer, more convenient ones. You just couldn't help but send one back, though; hiding behind the screen helped you to flirt openly with him. You roll onto your side to face the TV on your dresser, turning on a true crime documentary and letting it eventually lull you to sleep.

* * * *

Saturday comes around quickly, much to your delight, but as you wander around your room looking at the many outfits you laid out on your bed, your dresser, even on your couch, the nerves set in fast. You pray to whoever’s listening that you don’t seize up when Marcus picks you up. Which is in fifteen minutes. You already have your hair and makeup done, all you need is to pick an outfit. Simple in theory. Just pick one! You chew your lip nervously out of habit before stopping as soon as you realize you probably just messed up the red lipstick you had applied earlier.

You rush to the bathroom mirror and sure enough, there's a bare spot on your bottom lip and the lipstick has transferred to your front teeth. You groan in frustration and grab a makeup wipe to carefully remove the ruined lipstick and you brush your teeth again until it's all gone. You reapply the same shade of red, pleasantly surprised with yourself that it came out better than the first time. You take a deep breath and try to calm down, telling yourself that the first outfit you land your eyes on will be the one you wear. You count down from three in your head and enter your bedroom.

Okay, maybe not that one. You decide to close your eyes and try again. When you open your eyes, they land on a different outfit. Not that one either. You sigh harshly through your nose. Why is this so hard? You walk over to your nearly empty closet for the umpteenth time and your eyes catch on to a dress hidden in the corner that you had surprisingly missed before. This one.

It's a spaghetti strapped, black, bodycon dress with a lace overlay, flowers printed on the fabric throughout. It hugs your body in all the right places, reaching down to your knees, and you take a look in the floor length mirror next to your dresser as you put on your black, open-toed heels, smiling brightly as you feel confidence shooting through your veins.

Adrenaline gets mixed in as soon as you hear a knock on your door. Five on the dot. You grab your black cardigan and purse off the couch and open the door, your breath taken away by the handsome man in front of you. He's carrying a box of chocolates and it fumbles in his hands, nearly falling once his wide eyes see you. He looks at you from head to toe, making your heart race as you feel heat rushing over your body in line with his gaze and you shift your weight from side to side anxiously.

"Wow," he says breathlessly, unable to say anything afterwards.

"Wow yourself," you smile, looking over his own outfit: a navy blue suit and a black, button up shirt underneath, paired with black dress shoes. He slicked his hair back and cleaned up his beard slightly. He really is a gorgeous man.

"Uh," he stutters and glances to the box in his unknowingly tight grasp. "These are for you," he smiles shyly as he hands you the chocolates.

"Thank you," you say, giggling at the indents his fingers made on the sides of the box and you turn around to leave them on your entryway table.

You turn back to face him and see his eyes look up quickly and you wonder if you just caught him staring at your bottom. Your suspicion is confirmed when his cheeks flush pink. You laugh softly and he holds his arm out to you.

"Ready?" He asks and you can hear the nervousness in his voice.

You nod and link your arm in his, letting him help you down the stairs. You're starting to love the way his arm hugs yours as you walk and the warmth of his body mixing with yours. Your footsteps even sync up together in a slow cadence. He walks you to his car, letting you hold your weight with his arm as you slowly lower in the seat, your movement restricted by your tight dress and high heels.

You thank him once you're seated, buckling your seatbelt, and he walks to his side, sitting down and starting the car. You notice the radio is on this time, playing at a low volume, and you think to yourself that he probably only forgot to turn it on last time.

The aura is tense in the car, both of your nervous energies dancing in the air together to the music. You try to think of something to say, resorting to looking through your mental file of basic conversation starters. The weather? No, too basic. Say something about the music. No-

"You look really beautiful," Marcus finally breaks the silence. Your head snaps up to look in his direction and you share a smile, thanking him and returning the compliment.

He takes his eyes off the road for a couple of seconds to look at you with a soft smile and turns his attention back to driving straight. He would keep his eyes on you if he could, but he'd rather not get into a car accident and ruin the night. So he just waits patiently until the next moment he can steal a glance. He takes a peek at you while you're stuck at a red light and he sees you picking at your cuticles nervously. He rubs his clammy palm on his pant leg, hoping to dry up any sweat present as much as possible. Before he can think twice about it, he reaches his hand over to grab yours.

Your heart jumps in your throat from the action and you look down in shock at his large hand covering yours completely. The blood rushes to your cheeks; his hand is rough from work, but soft and gentle enough that it's not uncomfortable. And warm. So warm. You stop picking your cuticles immediately, now memorizing the fine wrinkles in his hand and the ridges on his knuckles.

"Are you okay?" He asks, not moving his hand from your lap as he starts driving again.

"Yeah," your voice makes an embarrassing harmony, splitting in two different octaves from disuse. You swallow some saliva to lubricate your vocal cords and try speaking again.

"I'm just a little nervous," you admit.

His hand is still resting on top of yours; you're not sure if you should open your hand up to face your palms together and hold his hand as well. Alas, you take too long to make a decision and he pulls his hand away to grasp the steering wheel, bracing for a left turn.

"Please don't be nervous," he smiles with his pearly white teeth and it only makes you more nervous. How is he this handsome?

"It's just me," he adds as he pulls up to the restaurant, putting the car in park and removing the key from the ignition.

"'Just you'?" You quote him inquisitively. He nods and you shake your head with a small chuckle.

"What?" He chuckles with you.

"It's not 'just you' though, is it?" You reply softly.

You wonder if he's uncertain of himself and his ability to make women — i.e. you — weak in the knees. He seems oblivious to it and it makes him all the more charming to you. You see his eyebrows furrow and before he can ask what you mean, you turn to open the car door.

"Wait," he tells you, rushing out of his seat and over to you to help you out.

You wanted to manage it yourself, but you know you must look ridiculous with how bad you're struggling to get out of the car. He chuckles at the sight once he's on your side and he holds his arm out. You hold onto his forearm tightly and pull yourself upward as he lifts you as well until you're firmly planted on your feet.

"Maybe this dress wasn't a good idea after all," you giggle.

"I think it was," he flirts and you look away as you smile shyly.

You walk together up the steps to the front of the restaurant and Marcus apologizes for not warning you about the stairs. You tell him not to worry and though you can feel the ache in the arches and heels of your feet, you don't complain. He holds the door open for you and you walk in, your eyes instantly catching on the glimmering, crystal chandelier hanging in the waiting area. The lights are dimmed in an amber glow and there are pillars with intricate carvings and vines wrapped around the stone throughout the entirety of the establishment.

You gasp to yourself; this place must be expensive. How did you go from pancakes at grandma's house to a fancy, Italian restaurant like this? Your ears catch the sounds of a violin, but it's too close to just be playing from a speaker. Sure enough, you look further into the restaurant and see a man in a suit playing a violin. A live violinist?! Marcus joins your side again and notices the look of astonishment on your face.

"What's wrong?" He asks and you jerk your head to look at him, not even realizing he was standing next to you.

"Marcus, this looks like it's going to be really expensive."

You whisper in his ear so you don't offend any of the staff members and the height from your heels allows you to reach his head a little better now. The hot breath from your mouth tickles his ear and a bolt of arousal shoots down his spine. He laughs it off and leans his mouth to your ear in return.

"I like to make a fuss," he says, the deep tone of his voice giving you goosebumps. "Don't worry about it," he says in his normal tone as he stands up straight again.

The maître d' greets you two as you walk up to the host stand and Marcus gives the man his name for the reservation. The maître d' informs Marcus the table is not quite ready yet, adding that you're welcome to wait at the bar. Marcus looks at you to get your opinion; you say yes and Marcus lightly places his hand on the middle of your back, guiding you as you walk over to the bar top together. You take a seat in the soft barstool; it's easier to sit on since it's basically at standing height. Marcus removes his hand from your back to take a seat, his fingers gliding against the delicate lace of your dress across your spine and you shudder. Thankfully, it goes unnoticed.

The back of the bar is riddled with an assortment of different liquors, both American and Italian, and they're resting on lit up shelves. You look at the drink menu and your mouth opens in horror at the prices listed. This is definitely too much money. The bartender comes your way and Marcus orders a campari and grapefruit juice, immersing himself fully in the Italian culture. You say you'll stick with water and excuse it as you not feeling like drinking tonight. Marcus doesn't question it further.

The two of you comment on the decor of the restaurant, mainly the paintings hanging on the walls, and you mention that you love the lilies resting in the painted, ceramic vases and Marcus takes note of that fact. A waitress walks up to you and Marcus to let you know your table is ready and he finishes the last of his drink and stands, offering you his hand this time instead of his arm. You smile as you take it, your heart thumping in your chest as you let him guide you while you both follow the waitress.

The restaurant is bustling; heavy sounds of conversation and cutlery clinking on plates as you walk through what seems the entirety of the restaurant until the waitress leads you to a small, private patio. A round table is seated there, covered by a red tablecloth and adorned with a single, tall candlestick, burning a light glow. There's a cylindrical basket full of bread sticks and two water glasses, condensation running along the sides and onto the cloth. Marcus pulls your chair out for you, helping you to sit and scooting you in and sits down across from you. You hang your cardigan and purse on the back of your chair and take the menu the waitress is holding out to you.

You both thank her and she leaves, stating she'll be back soon to take your order. You marvel at the privacy Marcus planned for you two and you take a sip of your ice cold water, reveling in the relief washing through your dry throat. You flip open your menu; the options are minimal and are all expensive. You immediately scan for the cheapest dish: a $30 plate of chicken cacciatore. You feel guilty; you never want Marcus to break his bank trying to take you on a date. You glance at him and wonder why he would do all of this just for you. Did he really think you were that special?

You find yourself missing that little pancake diner and the time you shared there. There, you only felt the budding emotions consistent with a high school crush, but in this moment now, it's real life and mature adult feelings and you feel it much stronger in this environment. Marcus senses your mood change and leans forward to ask if you're okay, but he's interrupted by the waitress. You order the 'cheap' chicken cacciatore and he orders the tajarin al tartufo. Whatever that is.

"Why did you order the cheapest dish?" Marcus asks once the waitress leaves.

"Because I wanted to," you give him a sly smile to convince him otherwise, but he sees right through you, giving you a look of disbelief. You sigh.

"Because Marcus, it's too much money," you say sadly. "I mean, how much was it to get this private patio set up?"

"That's not important to me," he shakes his head. "This is our first proper date and I wanted to make it special."

Damn it. Why is he so thoughtful? And so damn cute?

"It's not that I don't appreciate it, I'm blown away by this, but I'm just... I'm not used to it," you pull your lips into your mouth slightly, mindful of your lipstick.

"Is that why you didn't order a drink?" He asks. You give him a lopsided frown and shrug your shoulders, your expression answering him instead of your words. He sighs and tilts his head to the side.

"I don't want you to worry about how much everything costs when you're with me; let me spoil you. You deserve it."

Let me spoil you. You deserve it. His words float around in your head, your eyes filling with fondness at the thought. You didn't think you deserved to be spoiled; your ex made sure of that much. It's exhilarating to say the least; this man you barely know ready to do anything for you at any time. But you like it, and you think in time, you could learn to love it. Learn to love him. You blink wildly and you inconspicuously shake your head at that last thought.

It was definitely way too soon to be thinking like that and it scared you that it entered your mind at all. It must be the ambiance of the restaurant. You think about how you should protect yourself in case this takes a wrong turn and you debate on placing that in the priority spot in your mind. Marcus can see you fighting your own thoughts and he tries to lighten the mood.

"I also might be trying to impress you for real now," he smiles.

You chuckle and shake your head. Marcus thinks to himself how beautiful you look under the moonlight that's shining through the glass awning above your heads, face lit up by the glowing candle. He can't stop his mouth from saying what he wants to say, not in this romantic atmosphere.

"I think you're a wonderful, beautiful woman and... I really like you," he adds, reaching across the table for your hand and you let him hold it, tangling your fingers with his.

You're positive he can feel your pulse through your fingers or hear your heart pounding, the blood whooshing in your ears muffling any other sounds from coming in. As much as you want to protect yourself, the look in his eyes only draws you in and you can't hide the truth from him or yourself, your confession spoken out loud for the first time for you both.

"I like you, too, Marcus." He smiles happily at you.

There must be something in the water here.

"Do you think it would be okay to keep this up?" He asks, meaning the dates, and you can't stop your head from nodding yes and you give him a sweet smile.

Marcus lets go of your hand, letting his rest in front of him and you take a deep breath, trying to shake your nerves from the exchange that just took place between you. You grab a bread stick and attempt to take a small bite; you and Marcus laugh together as your small bite accidentally turns into a big one, the stick breaking in the wrong place and leaving a large chunk of bread hanging from your mouth. Of course, leave it to something awkward happening to you to break the tension. But anything to see his face come together in joyous laughter.

* * * *

"Thank you again Marcus, that was actually very delicious," you say while Marcus begins the drive back to your apartment. "I see why it was so expensive." He hums in agreement; his smile hasn't left his face since the restaurant.

You listen closely to the new song that comes on the radio, trying to make out the tune until it gets louder and you realize it's "At Last" by Etta James.

"I love this song," you say under your breath. Marcus hears you and turns up the volume slightly, earning a bright smile from you. You look back out the window and sing the lyrics softly.

At last, my love has come along,

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song.

Marcus's heart races as he listens to the lyrics being sung by you and they hit a little too close to his heart. You don't realize at first the meaning behind them, only enjoying singing along.

At last, the skies above are blue

My heart was wrapped up in clover,

The night I looked at you.

You now realize the words are identical to how you feel. You wonder if you're falling too fast for Marcus. This was only your second date and there is still so much to learn about each other. You have a whole past to open up about, which will be a defining moment for your relationship. But as you look over at Marcus and you feel the tender organ in your chest beating fast, you think to yourself that it can't get much better than this. What's the harm in trying?

Chapter Two | Chapter Four

The Singer Masterlist

A/N: Okay just wanted to explain what Marcus ordered if you're interested! *DESCRIPTION OF FOOD/ALCOHOL COMING UP* I'm not an expert so correct me if I'm wrong! According to Google:

Campari is an Italian bitters made of fruit & herbs & you usually mix it with juice or club soda (hardcore Italians drink it straight up) & it's a pre-meal drink

Tajarin al tartufo is an egg pasta, made with more egg whites than traditional egg pastas, & topped with white truffle. Idk it sounded fancy & expensive 😂

Also, here's their outfit inspos! Just a couple of things I described differently like his shirt being black & her dress having lace instead of mesh.

Ofc Marcus in this suit 🥵 I copied the description lol

TAG LIST:

@hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @giselatropicana

#marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Californian Dream (Pt. 11 of 11)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 2.3 K

Summary: Being part of one of the richest families of California doesn't mean you're happy. Your life is boring, and you're surrounded by meaningless people and their meaningless talk. Even during Summer, with the break you have from college, there's nothing good going on. Nothing but the new pool guy, Billy, the most handsome man you ever saw. You were successfully avoiding him, not wanting to act like an idiot in front of the guy until Billy accepts to be your date for a fancy gala you're forced to attend. The night was going well, even better when he sneaked you out to go to the beach. But a gang of criminals breaks into the party, kidnapping the heirs to the wealthiest families, which includes you. So, for your safety, your parents want you to stay with Billy, living in his apartment until the criminals are caught. And that could take weeks, maybe even months.

Warnings: Light violence

<- Previous part (10)

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

×

California Never Felt Like Home

Even though he's not going anywhere any time soon, you hook one leg around his waist, just to pull him a little closer. “You're my prisoner now.” You mutter, sleep still clouding your voice.

“I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.” He answers, placing kisses all over your face.

“The good part is that we'll have all the afternoon to ourselves.” You giggle, moving to lay on your back with Billy hovering over you.

“I'll take you to see the sunset on that beach you like. Completely desert.” He says in a low voice. “If we survive your parents.”

“We already did.” Kissing him, you move to lie on top of him. “It'll be at this super expensive, fancy restaurant, so it means they won't yell at me or put on a show.”

“Sometimes I think you should consider what you're giving up.” He gets sad suddenly, sighing. You know what he's thinking about, and it will take time for Billy to see and understand this is what you really want.

“I'm giving up a huge house I never felt like it was mine. Lots of money that never brought me happiness.” In between the words, you place kisses all over his face. “But what I'm getting...? God, it's amazing.” Sitting up, you straddle his hips. “I got real friends now, and a home. And an awesome boyfriend who doesn't compare to the assholes on my parents' list.”

“I'm so happy I'm around to see the good daughter rebelling.” He sits up too, strong arms encircling your waist. “You look so good, little rebel.”

“You're just saying that because I'm wearing your shirt.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you raise an eyebrow. Yesterday, you decided to pick one of his shirts to put on instead of your regular pajamas.

“Babe, you look good on everything. But I gotta admit seeing you wearing my clothes is very hot.”

Smiling, you can't help but blush. “We still have a few hours, so I think we can maybe make out for a while?” Biting your lip at his smirk, you giggle.

“Starting the day off with good ideas already.” He mutters, holding you up and throwing you back on the mattress. “This is the first day of the rest of your lives, you know that, right? Because I'm never letting you go. Unless you get tired of me.”

“I don't think I'll ever get tired of you, so yes...” Caressing his cheek, you take a deep breath, the sunlight illuminating his face. “The very first day of the rest of our lives.”

•••

The morning bliss had to be interrupted. But, as you sit across from your mother at the restaurant, you don't feel scared, or nervous. You feel perfectly fine. You're not dressed for this place, you can see it in your mother's eyes, but you don't care. You like the clothes you're wearing, and your mother's disgusting stare makes you chuckle under your breath. Making yourself comfortable, you ignore the silence. Nobody is saying anything, and your father has been staring at Billy as if he could kill him with his stare.

“So... I believe you want an explanation.” You start, cupping your hands together above the table. “Billy and I are dating. And I'll be living with him.”

“Is it some kind of joke?” Your mother interrupts, leaning closer. “You can't possibly think I'll believe you'll do that.” You're about to say something when she raises a hand, and you shut your mouth. “I get it, (Y/N). Billy is good looking, he has this appeal, he's different from the guys you're used to, rougher around the edges, I get all that. But this? This is insane.”

It's only a matter of time for the insults to begin, you're aware of that. “That's not all, mother.” You add, not even considering giving her a proper answer. “I'm not going to course Law anymore. I'll look for something I actually like. And go to the public University.”

“What the–”

“I have a good job now, at a store of diving equipment and I love it.” Cutting your father short, you raise your voice just a little. “That's my life now. I'm not going back to the house, but I want you both to know that I'll visit, of course, and you can visit me whenever you want and–”

“I'm not going to let you throw your entire life on the trash because of the freaking pool guy.” Your father's voice storms out, making a few people look your way. He does seem a little embarrassed, but definitely angry. “This man–” He points at Billy, and you hold his hand under the table. “–he can give you nothing. Nothing. What do you have in life, Hargrove? I shitty job, a tiny apartment. Do you think you can provide to someone like my daughter?” There it is. The insults. And, knowing exactly what Neil told Billy, you won't let your father treat him this way.

“You wanna know what Billy gave me, father?” Smiling, you begin. “He gave me a life. I never felt truly happy, never. Not in our mansion, or those fancy galas, or wearing fashionable clothes. Never. But with the pool guy, as you call him, in his tiny apartment with his lowlife friends? I finally felt something. I finally felt life was worth living.”

“Alright.” He slams his fist on the table, glancing at your mother, a mean smile on his face. “If you insist on doing this, I'll disown you.” He giggles, a hand half covering his mouth. “You won't see any cents from me anymore. Is that what you want?”

He looks like he got everything figured out. Exchanging a stare with Billy, you can tell he's worried. Does he think you'll fall for this? Squeezing his hand a little and smiling, you try to reassure him. He must feel awful, seated here, and listening to all this shit. “I–”

The waiter comes and you're cut short, waiting for your parents to order whatever they want to eat. “Oh, finally. We'll want Muffin Pan Shrimp Ragoon. Thought I'll give my kid one last decent lunch at a decent restaurant. What do you think?”

Seriously? “I can't eat that.” You think it's so obvious, but by the look on your father's face, he doesn't get it.

“What? Do you want to order something more expensive as a goodbye to your good life?”

“She's allergic to shrimp,” Billy speaks for the first time, his voice strong and deep. Both your parents look a little surprised, but soon enough recognition comes to their faces.

They completely forgot, but it doesn't bother you. You're happy Billy actually remembered it. You only mentioned it once, at the gala. “It's alright, though. We'll have lunch by the beach.” You tell them, smiling at Billy.

“Let me guess...” He dismisses the waiter with a gesture of his hand. “Sandwiches and soda?”

“Actually, yes.” Exclaiming, you stand up, and Billy does the same. It's over. You told them what's gonna happen now, and they have to make peace with that. And if your father wants to change his will and cut you out of it, so be it. “I made them myself and they're delicious.”

“For goodness sake.” Your mother mutters, running a hand through her hair. “Honey, please think this through, alright? Your house will be opened whenever you want to come back.”

“Thanks, mom. I will visit, I promise.” That said, you smile at them before turning away, hand in hand with Billy, walking away from the table.

“You better wipe off your bank account, (Y/N), because you'll never get a penny from me again!” Your father yells, and you simply wave at him, not even bothering to look back.

When you're outside, you feel light-headed, relieved. “This wasn't as bad as it could be.” You breathe out, walking to where Billy parked his car, a block away.

“Did he mean it? About disowning you?” He sounds serious, despite the smile that's on your face.

Turning around without letting go of his hand, you start walking backward. “I don't give a damn.” Speaking slowly, you wink at him, stopping suddenly and letting him come closer by himself before grabbing the collar of his shirt and tiptoeing to kiss him, sweet and slow.

“What the– (Y/N)?” Someone calls and since you do know who it is, you keep kissing Billy for a while longer. “Holy shit.”

It makes you giggle when he pulls your closer, deepening the kiss. But eventually, you have to breathe, so you break apart, a smile on your lips.

“Care to explain why the hell you're making out with the pool guy? In public?” Daniel says as you turn to face him. He has a girl with him, but you don't know who she is. He seems better, given the time he spent held hostage. “Have you lost your mind, girl?”

Sighing, you roll your eyes at him. You have a lunch date on the beach, and you don't wanna waste any more time with meaningless people. “Yeah. I'm dating the pool guy.” You tell him, shrugging your shoulders. “Actually, I'm in love with the pool guy. And now I work at a scuba diving store, so you can come up with some kind of name for me too, but you wanna know what? I don't give a damn.” Pulling Billy harder, you start walking again. “I'd love to say that we'll be seeing each other soon, but we won't. So... Goodbye, Daniel.” Turning on your heels, you leave the couple behind.

The drive to the beach is short, and instead of sitting on the sand, you chose to seat on the hood of his car. Which he now calls Lily, and you peacefully eat the sandwiches and drink the soda. You wouldn't trade it for all the money in the world. The ocean, the sunlight, the fresh wind messing with your hair. The simple food, the hood of his car... And him. Billy is certainly the best part. Having him here is indescribable, and knowing you'll go back home with him is even better.

“So... Will you help me chose something to major in?” You ask as he helps you climb off of the hood, taking your hand and starting to walk down the beach.

“Actually, I have some fresh news coming straight from Jason.” He says, a bright smile on his lips.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you stop to look at him. “What news...?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Heeler, from the store.” Billy starts, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “They want to retire and they're thinking about passing the store over to you and Jason since they don't have any relatives. If you both agree on being associates.”

“Oh my God!” You exclaim, tiptoeing to crash your lips on his. “This is amazing.”

“Please act surprised when Jason tells you.” In a sudden motion, Billy reaches for your thighs, pulling you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. Using his shoulder for balance, you giggle. “He didn't want me to tell you but I couldn't resist.”

“This is just awesome. This is...” Taking a deep breath, you take a look at the ocean. The sound of the waves crashing is low and calming, and the way the sunlight reflects on the water shines like liquid silver. Then, you look at Billy again, his smile warming up your heart. “I love you.” You haven't said it yet, but it feels like the right time. And this is how you feel. You've never been in love before, but you know how this is how it feels. Like someone owns your whole heart. “I'm not sure if you feel the same but I just need you to know that–”

“I'm completely in love with you.” Billy cuts you off, bouncing you up a little and making the way back to his car. “I have been for a while and that scared the hell out of me.” When you reach Lily, he puts you down on the hood, remaining in between your legs. “But now... I'm sure of it. I want a life with you. A future.”

Blushing, you smile, your forehead touching Billy's. “So that thing you said about me getting to pick the kid's names...” You tease, placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.

“I mean it, if...” Pulling away from a little, he locks eyes with you. “If you don't pick something silly like the name you insisted on giving my car.”

“It's not silly!” Playfully, you try to push him away, giggling when he grabs your sides, tickling you. “Alright! Alright!” After a while you manage to stop him, his hands going back to your hips. “We'll pick names we both like. How does it sound?”

“It sounds like we're talking about kids even before getting married.”

“What?” Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to process what the hell he just said. “Sorry, I thought you heard you talking about...”

“I never felt like the type for marriage but, God, I want to marry you,” Billy exclaims, connecting his lips to yours.

You have a lot to say, a lot of things to ask, but you surrender to the kiss instead. This is all the answers you need. His lips on yours, on this paradise on Earth.

California never felt like home because home isn't a place, but a person. Billy is your home. Wherever you are, if he's with you, it's the right place. Nothing else needs to be said. The life you had before vanished like smoke in the air, and this is even better than everything you could ever dream of. Not all the money in the world can buy this moment, and you don't regret a thing. Love is far more important, and now that you found it, nothing will make you let it go.

×

@multific @dontxfearxthereaper @nope-thanks @nikkixostan @shinydixon @clockworkballerina @infinitelycharmed23 @lilred91 @moatsnow

#imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove #billy stranger things fanfiction #billy stranger things imagine #billy stranger things

[lucidpantone]

For me personally, I can't get over the fact that Italia committed the cardinal sin of casting a white non muslim actress to play the role of Sana. Sorry for bringing back the same old debate but please hear me out. It's an undeniable fact that, representation does not count without opportunity. She was played by a wonderfully talented actress, but she gets to take that hijab off at the end of the day and go back to living a life where she or her family have never had to face the ostracism of living as muslims in the western world. The other Sana actresses intrinsically understand this nuance of their lives because they have lived it, which is why they are able to contribute to the writing and give story suggestions for their seasons regardless of the real tptb.

I'm not saying talent and authenticity can't exist without trauma and suffering. But the casting of Sana is a political act in itself. It is meant to break barriers for the unheard and the neglected voices within the industry, thereby bringing their struggles and their shame to the forefront, and also to give them a place at the table. As an equal. It's an attempt at leveling the playing field.

What Julie Andem did in casting an actual hijabi non-actress to play Sana in a country like Norway was imo, revolutionary. It gave Iman a platform. Even if Skam had not become an international phenomenon, Iman still received her due recognition within Norway, and now she's out and about doing her own revolutionary stuff. The other remakes understood this aspect and rightfully cast a muslim actress, while Italia simply stole that opportunity from muslim talent in the country. Right now, we could be celebrating a never known Italian muslim actress just the way we celebrate the rest of the Sanas who achieved international acclaim for their performances alongside the Evas and the Noras and the Isaks of the world. But we'll never ever have that now. It's honestly unforgivable. Think of the stolen opportunity from a young muslim teenager who might have been a fan of the og and wanted to play Sana, and what message she received with this casting.

Ironically, Italia is also one of my favourite remakes, I actually love the focus on relationships and the beautiful cinematography, an overall chilled out pacing, and the touch of originality within each season. Giovanni is an absolute legend, and besse is a brilliant director. But they did their Sana dirty. It's irreversible damage. It's important to note that it was only after the massive backlash that they found actual brown/muslim actors to play Sana's friends and family in S4 and the story was with consultation of a Muslim journo/writer. She wasn't a writer on the show, she was a consultant. Which is great, but not the same thing. Who is to say that without the backlash they'd have taken all of these steps? Besse spent time with muslims and studied the culture and tried to create an authentic story for his Sana, but his casting of Sana is his Achilles heel. It also had like zero black actors except for the temporary boyf of Filippo in s3. Someone who knows nothing about the contemporary Italians may think there are no black people in Italy.

Italia S4 is only marginally better in that it didn't completely annihilate their Sana the way skamfr and skames did. Let's not start with Druck because that's a whole bunch of missed opportunities and laziness. Wtfock... Well let's see if they can surprise me. Keeping my expectations six feet under the ground.

Its long after the cut

Ohhh trust me I get it. I feel a lot like this right now concerning casting a MOC as a main. Like most fans of color set the bar super fucking low already concerning mains that aren’t white. People will literally make all types of allowances just to simply get one main who isn’t white in a remake. Speaking for me personally, I will over look using stereotypical tropes, I will overlook them being model/influencers, I will look the obvious lack of effort from the writers to attack meaningful storylines that actually highlight the experiences of people of color simply to get some representation. This is why I am still angry about the Moyo thing because literally all wtfock had to do was main him and they would have got a pat on the back for doing the bare ass minimum and they wouldn't even do that because they didn’t think maining a black boy would be profitable so in many ways am happy that shit blew up in their face. You deserved it for being stupid but the person that pays that price ultimately is Noa and that hurts. Concerning Italia I think thats the thing that stings the most that if Ludo would have just made minimal effort like the bare minimum and just found an actress who was muslim people would have applauded him for getting a half decent script out that finally gave a muslim actress meaningful plot that felt honest to her experiences. So its like damn can any of Sana’s just get a fucking win bruh. Like people are literally willing to take the bare minimum here. Like if wtfock does even a half decent job people will praise them and in many ways they didnt deserve the praise because all they did was do the bare minimum for Nora. I mean if its written well of course I will acknowledge a well written script but it does feel sorta of like is this even a win when we are on our 6 Sana remake. It takes fuck up after fuck up to get a half decent season that doesnt undercut the muslim girls narrative for once. Like people aint even asking for much either. Also I agree about the actress being muslim because Nora herself has said that a muslim protagonist who isn’t shown in some harsh oppressive light hasn't really been seen in belgium. I also appreciate that she has experience some of the issues Yasmina will depict. Nora’s conflict between wearing a hijab and not wearing one. Nora’s conflict between really trying to identify if Islam really was for her and ultimately researching and studying and accepting Islam into her heart because it felt like it was the right path for her and I agree that they took those experiences away from a muslim italian actress and her opportunity to depict them. I still want to recognize its definitely one of the most solid script of out of the remakes but I am also well aware that I have made a shit ton of personal allowances when coming to that conclusion because I am comparing it to a bunch of mediocre efforts. 

#lucidpantone anons #its long #anon has fantastic points

[justthehiddleswrites]

“Well the whole point of edging is to bring you right to the edge of orgasm and stop or slow down until you calm down and then starting up again. They say it can increase stamina, control and give stronger orgasms.” She explains. “Right now, you seem to be ready to jump my bones at any given moment. And part of my job of taking care of you is telling you no when things are not good for you. And to be honest, the thought of denying an orgasm is extremely erotic to me.”

"I did say it has been a while since I've been intimate and in a serious relationship." He says gently as he listened to her explanation of edging. "Orgasm denial something that you would want me to do to you aswell?"

"Shit... sorry Mistress. This is hard for me." He says wetting his lips with his tongue.

She reaches over and rubs his hand and thigh. “I know baby, it’s okay.”

“I think we can arrange all that, baby. The bondage and the toys we could try this weekend. As for the lingerie and shoes, we may need to do some shopping because there is no way your feet are fitting into my heels. As for anal sex, we can start you training, get you prepared. But nothing you said is outrageous and I am certainly willing to accommodate.”

His heart is hammering in his chest as he looks up at her, he gives her a soft smile as his tears finally spill over. She was still there. She'd not run from him. He felt himself blushing as Honey mentioned taking him on a shopping trip because her heels wouldn't fit him.

She takes a bite of bread. “But that is all sex, Magnus. What about you? What do you need in your day to day life from me? Or would you like our dominant/submissive relationship to stay in the bedroom, so to speak? I am here for you, not just kinky sex. And I will do my best to explain why I am doing something.”

"Your fidelity and honesty. I need you not to lie to me, just to save my feelings. I want to be able to trust that you're not going to hurt me." He said as he brushed his tears away from his cheeks. "If I'm being an asshole I need to to tell me. I'd like to wear your collar, or something at all times."

Running his hands through his hair momentarily, before reaching out across the table and taking Honey's in his hand, twining their fingers together he lifted it up to brush his lips across her knuckles. "Just give me yourself, please. I don't care if we only play in the bedroom and then we are just like regular couples when we're outside of our four walls. Darling I just need to know that you're here for me, that you love all of me. I can't promise that it will always be easy, I've had to hide this part of me for so long. But most importantly I need your love and acceptance."

"What about you?"

- Magnus Martinsson

"I did say it has been a while since I've been intimate and in a serious relationship." He says gently as he listened to her explanation of edging. "Orgasm denial something that you would want me to do to you as well?"

“I would like that, baby.  And we are starting off slow, just edging for today and then tonight, you can cum.”  She reassures him.  

His heart is hammering in his chest as he looks up at her, he gives her a soft smile as his tears finally spill over. She was still there. She'd not run from him. He felt himself blushing as Honey mentioned taking him on a shopping trip because her heels wouldn't fit him.

Honey grabs a napkin and wipes away the tears.  “Baby it’s okay.  I know that was a lot and you’re scared.  You are going to be okay.”

"Your fidelity and honesty. I need you not to lie to me, just to save my feelings. I want to be able to trust that you're not going to hurt me." He said as he brushed his tears away from his cheeks. "If I'm being an asshole I need to to tell me. I'd like to wear your collar, or something at all times."

“And I would like the same from you, Magnus.  This needs be a relationship built on mutual trust.”  

Running his hands through his hair momentarily, before reaching out across the table and taking Honey's in his hand, twining their fingers together he lifted it up to brush his lips across her knuckles. "Just give me yourself, please. I don't care if we only play in the bedroom and then we are just like regular couples when we're outside of our four walls. Darling I just need to know that you're here for me, that you love all of me. I can't promise that it will always be easy, I've had to hide this part of me for so long. But most importantly I need your love and acceptance."

“You have all of me baby.  I am here for you, in whatever way you need me, Magnus.  And I love all of you.  Kinks and all.  It doesn’t scared me, because it is part of who you are.” Her voice cracks with emotion.  She wants to give Magnus all of that.  She wants to be his safe place to land.  

"What about you?"

Honey chews on her lip, thinking about it.  “I want you to understand I won’t and can’t always say yes. Just as I hope you would not always say yes to me.  That when I say no, it is for good reason. I want you to feel comfortable to come to me and tell me what you want.  Even if it is as simple as a hug. I want us to be partners in this.  And while I may be your Mistress, or your good girl, I am not going to treat you like shit.  I will treat you with the respect you deserve.”

She squirms a bit. “And I would like to know I’m wanted, that I am not a burden or a drag for you.  If something isn’t working, then tell me.  Don’t let things fester until it becomes too much.  But let me take care of you.  Cook for you, clean, make sure you are okay.”  

She takes a bite of pizza.  “Would you be willing to drive us somewhere to pick out a watch for you?  I have some money set aside and I would like to buy one for you to wear all the time. As a symbol of ownership.”  

#magnus anon #magnus rp #rp anon #honey oc #slightly n s f w #now we are getting somewhere #this is good #hopefully this will help magnus calm down

[alittleprincehwa]

since childhood ──── ₊˚.𓂸 park seonghwa

pairing ─ ₊˚.𓂸 park seonghwa x gender neutral reader

genre ─ ₊˚.𓂸 angst, fluff

synopsis ─ ₊˚.𓂸 you never believed the saying " never fall for your best friend. " until now.

tags ─ ₊˚.𓂸 childhood best friend seonghwa |

words ─ ₊˚.𓂸 5k+

alexa play ─ ₊˚.𓂸 click here

You walk along the empty neighborhood. The same place you grew up in. Only the reminiscence of your youth remains intact. The lights were the only thing keeping it from complete darkness. Your feet kicked the small rocks and pebbles along your way. It was already midnight, but the caffeine you consumed early morning made you restless.

The wind rushing through you gave you shivers down your spine. Your different layers of clothing kept you from the cold of early winter. When you pass a rather familiar house, you let out a shaky breath that condensates through the chilly air. Despite your heavy clothing, you could still feel the cool winter. You recently arrived back at your hometown due to your school's yearly winter break. You couldn't pass up the opportunity.

You continued strolling through the quiet road. You often remember the pieces of childhood memory to your highschool years. You had many childhood friends since your mom was quite a social butterfly, so she insisted that you had to be friends with the neighbors.

You yourself were completely distinct from your mother. You were a shy child. You couldn't make much friends. Your worries got the best of you, making you distance yourself even further. Well that was until you met him. Park Seonghwa. Two houses away from yours. You first met him when you were playing on the community playground. There weren't much kids so it was perfect for you.

You saw a certain toy that appealed to you. You were too fascinated by the toy to see that another kid also had a plan to play with it. You ran and pick up the plaything. But before you could, another hand reached for it. You look to where the hand was from and saw a boy staring at it with sparkling eyes. He was too engulfed with the thought of the piece of plastic to play with to notice you. You could clearly remember what he wore. A plain white shirt accompanied with a pair of black pants. He had a bucket hat that fit his head perfectly.

When he did, he let out a sound that somehow embodied a growl. You were also a competitive child. You wanted to play with it, and you were definitely not letting a boy just take it. Your other hand reach out and pull the toy to your direction. The boy that was slightly taller than you, grabbed it aswell. It quickly escalated, you were both pulling for the thing and the idea of picking another one didn't seem to come to your mind.

After minutes of grunting and struggling, the other kid managed to get the toy out of your hands. What he didn't know was that he hit you on the head when he attempted to take the toy you desperately wanted. For a moment he was celebrating in victory. But paused when he heard a sniffle. You did what any child would do if they get hit, cry. Your cries going louder and louder as you felt the pain.

The boy stopped his victorious moment and looked at you. He himself didn't know what to do. He dropped the toy and scrambled to you. He teared up at seeing such a cute girl cry. He started to regret what he did. Soon his cries were mixed with yours. Both of your mother's heard the sobs of their children and rushed to help you. Your mother picked you up from the ground and checked your head. It turned out it wasn't that bad, you only needed to wear a patch on your forehead.

The other boy was even more sad than you. He felt bad for hitting you. He wanted to apologize but didn't know you. So instead, he asked his mom. He waddles to her side and nudges her leg. He begged his mom to take him to your place. His mom gave in and helped his crying son.

As your mom answered the door, you peak from the other room. You saw the same lad that whacked you awhile back. After a few exchange of words between the adults, your heard your mom call out to you. " Y/n-ah! The boy earlier came here to apologize! " She said. You pout as you walked like a penguin to the front door. You kept looking at the floor, too scared to look at him.

Your mom gestured you to wave at the fellow infront of you. You finally look up and wave at him. Your face brightened up when you saw him carrying a tub of ice cream and a poorly written apology card. You and your mom invited them in. You both settled in the living room couch. Eating the ice cream as he apologizes. " I'm sorry... I'm seonghwa by the way. Wanna be friends? " He reached out his hand as he flashed a smile You accepted the apology and shook his hand while a movie played in the back. And in that moment, you both clicked and became inseparable.

Highschool rolled around and you two were still glued together. Being caught doing the most stupid of things together. Eventually you started feeling weird around him. It was the little things he did that made him so attractive. The things you two would do together. He would walk you home everyday, not missing a single day. You two would get smoothies in a nearby convenience store, playing with the different flavors. The small things such as loosening the first few buttons of his school uniform. How he looked as he runs his hand through his hair.

You kept these weird feelings to yourself. You soon regret hiding them when he started dating. It was a sight to behold everytime he would sling his arm around another girl's waist or shoulder. You were lying if you said you weren't jealous. You supported him through his relationships that mostly didn't last long. You always comforted him during every breakup. He didn't know how envious you were inside.

He then also felt an unusual sensation in the pit of his stomach whenever you two would come in contact. It continued like that for a few weeks or so. The tension grew heavier in every moment you two would be in the same room. You couldn't speak without feeling hesitation. He couldn't touch you before his heart would beat faster. Anything the both of you did made the other fall in love even more.

It was the spring of your school year, school coming to an end soon. Most students joyful of taking a break. Others sad that they couldn't see their friends. You were one of the happy ones. Seonghwa was one of the only people you knew. Seonghwa mustered up all his courage and asked you out to watch a movie. You agreed to it as it reminded you of one of the first things you two did when you were little.

You blushed at the idea of being on a date with with seonghwa. You dressed yourself in the prettiest clothes you had and made sure you combed your hair well. You happily skip to the theater that wasn't too far away. To your surprise you saw seonghwa with another girl by his side. You were disappointed and upset. But were you surprised? No. You realized he invited you just so you could third wheel. A frown appears on your face the whole time.

You grew even more furious as a minute passes. You couldn't mute the sounds you could hear from beside you. Your blood boiled when you heard kissing sounds. You had to sit there for another hour and a half. You tried to endure the anger that was oozing out of you. You sat there beside the two. You focused your eyes on the big screen with glossy eyes.

The movie finally ended and you three, including his hook up of the week, and walk towards the exit. You fastened your pace, not wanting to be caught between them again. Seonghwa was too invested in the conversation he had to notice you were already ahead of the crowd. You storm out of the theater and walk down the sidewalk with a single tear escaping your eye.

Seonghwa said his goodbyes and jogged to meet up you. He was about to talk to you, but that was until he saw your face. He stopped, " Was the movie that sad? Why are you crying? " He asked. You scoffed at his question and continued pacing. He asked once more, hoping to get an answer this time. " Come on y/n tell me! " He urged you. You bit your tongue, trying not to explode on the spot.

You failed to stay quiet and finally say " I can't believe you had the audacity to invite me just to third wheel! " You ruffled your hair with your hand, massaging your scalp. " Third wheel? No you don't understand that was my fr- " You couldn't listen to his excuses anymore. You were fuming at this point. Steam almost came out your ears. " Bull shit! Do you think I'm deaf? I can actually hear you two making out beside me! " You yell.

You were glad nobody was there besides you and seonghwa. Nothing to be heard but your voice. Lustrous tears race down your skin. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You two stood inaudible rather than in tranquility. Not able to say anything due to the inking of peer pressure. With much silence, you finally spoke “ Don’t you get it? I like you seonghwa. “ You whisper. " I had to watch you everyday make out with a girl infront of me. But what did I do? I supported you. I just wanted you to be happy. ". You didn’t expect him to reply. You just wanted to get it off your chest. You felt relief, but pain was still lingering.

Just like when he was little, seonghwa was baffled. He didn’t know what to do. You turn your heel to lash out. But couldn’t when a hand caught your wrist. It was intuition that made him reach out for your hand. Speechless, the only thing he could do was look at you. Your eyes filled with hurt and betrayal. He couldn't help but withstand the guilt. " Why didn't you tell me...? " He let out with a low tone. You look down, avoiding his sharp gaze. Your driblets of tears meet the pavement under you. " What difference does it make? " You pushed him off you. You glance at him one more time before running.

He stepped back to avoid falling. You pace the opposite direction, back to your house. You wanted to scream at him, take out all your anger. But you couldn't find the courage to do so. You could only walk farther. The distance between you both widens. You didn't believe in the saying " Never fall for your best friend. " until now. You could hardly walk, too occupied in crying your heart out. Dreading everything that happened today.

For days, weeks, you hadn't spoken a single word to seonghwa. As childish as it sounds, you didn't want to see him. You endlessly cried. An indescribable feeling lingers in your heart. He didn't mean it right? You wished all your thoughts could disappear for a day. They wouldn't leave you alone, constantly reminding you of him. You thought avoiding him would bring you peace, it only ended in chaos. You couldn't get up, you barely ate, nothing gave you the motivation to continue on. Stuck in your bed, nothing but your thoughts accompanying you.

Your mother grew worried. She'd constantly check on you and ask you if you were okay. But all she got was silence. Today perhaps was different. Somehow, you grew tired of lazing on your bed and crying. You wanted to get some fresh air. You wanted to get over him. You didn't realize it was early morning. Three o'clock to be exact. You changed out of your clothes and into a pair of grey sweatpants and a black hoodie.

You quietly tiptoed your way out of the house, careful not to wake up your sleeping mother. You let out a sigh of relief once you close the front door. You take a step as you inhale the outside air you greatly missed. You place your hands in the sewn pocket of your worn hoodie. You walk down the quiet and still vicinity. You kept your eyes on the dull grey road.

You walk yourself to the playground. Since you knew the directions, it wasn't too hard. It was from when seonghwa would knock on your house and invite you to play. You halt once you finally arrive. The walk felt like forever, your thoughts distracting you. You hum a song along the way. You look up and see the familiar place. Just looking at the playground itself brings back many memories. Your dry lips form a small smile. You walk across the sandbox and near the swing set.

You silently sit on the swings, kicking the sand to push yourself. Soon enough, you started swinging slowly. You kept a slow pace. You sigh once more while you look around. Scanning your surroundings while the sound of trees swaying could be heard. Everything resembles him. Everywhere you look, you could see flashbacks. The slides, the seesaw, and the monkey bars.

You suddenly heard footsteps. You snap back to reality. Your hooded head darts to the sound. The swing you were on also halted, your hands gripping the chain harder. Upon locking eyes, your breath hitched when you saw the familiar eyes. Your lips parted, eyes glossy. ' What great timing! " You thought. It stayed like that for a minute. Neither of you believing the other was feet away. You felt terrible. The seconds of just staring at each other. But did you look away? No, you couldn't. You felt happy to see him, by part of you wished this wasn't happening.

The head of black hair, the usual clothes he wears. His tall slim figure. Semi broad shoulders- you knew too much about him.

His black orbs contrast with yours. He couldn't take his eyes off you. His eyes were glued to your figure. You were definitely not in the best state. Your puffy eyes, runny nose, red cheeks made it obvious. Your usual cheery smile was replaced by the opposite. Your staring continues for a minute. Guilt still filled seonghwa's heart, and the look on your face made it worse. It felt as though time slowed down.

He then walks towards you, his footsteps the only audible thing you could hear. The closer he got, your eyes looked elsewhere. The swing next to you move. Still, you avoided his eyes. The heavy tension was clearly present. It took a while before either of you spoke up. Each of you had too many emotions. The sound of metal creaking, mixed with the tension you both had.

" Don't you remember? " He quietly mutters. " When we were both just little kids. " He continues. You slightly smile, it felt as if it were yesterday. Oh, how you wished you could go back to that time. Where you didn't have to worry about anything. You were just happy with him.

You let out a chuckle, a dry one. You couldn't form any words. Nothing to say. Nothing came out of your mouth. Seonghwa took this as an opportunity. There have been things on his mind that he wished to bring up to you. But he couldn't just simply talk to you. Not after what he did. He was at loss, why was he so ignorant? Why didn't he pick up on the small signs you did, like tidying your self every time you see him, how your cheeks turn a shade of pink every time the two you were approximately close to one another, and how your eyes would turn dark whenever he touches another girl in front of you. It was the little things that were important. It was the little things he missed. He couldn't fathom how much he regrets it. He berated himself. What else could he do?

He turned his head to see you. He didn't expect to see a smile on your face. He could see the hurt in it. He could feel all the pain you had to endure. He couldn't take the amount of guilt he felt. He broke down. He buried his head in his slender hands. His arms rested on his lap. Tears spilled out. As he quietly sobs before you.

Your eyes widen when you look at him. You didn't expect him to be the one crying. Concern and pity took over you. Never once in your life did you see seonghwa crying. You get off the swing and walk to his side. You kneel in front of him. You extend your arms to his face. You place your petite hands against his large ones. You could feel the warmth you've been longing for the past weeks. Your thumbs graze over his knuckles. You observe how drops stained his hoodie. " I know what you did wasn't intentional... " You spoke, breaking the silence.

You push away his hands that were covering his face. His cheeks and nose were stained with his running tears. " Hey, it's alright, it's not your fault. " You push his bangs away. Then you got to see his eyes, his eyes a bit red, his plump lips parted. " Don't cry seonghwa, it's not that big of a de- " Before you could finish speaking, seonghwa engulfed you in his arms.

He lunged towards you, wrapping his arms against you as one holds your head. You were too shocked to do anything. You both felt the impact when you fell in the sandbox. You didn't know what to do with your arms. " I'm sorry y/n. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so fucking sorry. " He cried against your covered chest. You grip the sleeves of his hoodie as you felt yourself tear up as well. Your bottled up feelings were too much. The bottle was too small. You inhale before close your eyes to feel your tears run down.

" I'm sorry. For catching feelings... " You sob. You were both crying at this point. With nobody around. Nothing to be heard but your cries. You ruffle his hair while you felt your jawline being stained with tears. Your clothing was starting to stain from the tears of the male before you. " Why am I so stupid y/n...? " His voice deep.

You lift his head. Caressing his cheek, you say " It's my fault for falling for you. ". You pull his face towards yours. Crashing your lips on his. Temptation got the best of you. Seonghwa's eyes went wide. Seonghwa didn't think twice before kissing you back. Butterflies appeared in both your stomach. This wasn't anything you two ever encountered. This didn't feel the same when he kissed other girls. Your lips moved in sync, rubbing against one another. His hands trail up and grip your waist.

From an outsider's perspective, it was just a bunch of adolescents having their first kiss. But for you and seonghwa, you didn't care. You wanted nothing but him. Him and him only.

You pull away for a breath before going back in. Each other's tongue moves against the others. The kiss was soft and passionate. It felt like your lips we're made to fit his. Coincidentally, you two open your eyes at the same time. You deeply looked into his. His look had a hold of you. Your eyes made him weak. You both pull away. Breathing heavily. You quickly hug him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. He sits himself and you up. Careful to you. Treating you like glass.

This was the most endearing part for seonghwa. He had no choice but to tell you. He took a sigh before speaking. " Y/n-ah... ". You hum in response. You were curious about what he had to say. Anxiety slowly eating you up. Was the kiss bad? Were you a bad kisser? But what he said shocked you. Left you speechless. You hadn't expected this.

" I'm going to Seoul. " He says.

You furrow your brows in confusion. " Wh-why? Seoul? What will you do there? " You look at him, puzzled. He took your hand in his before speaking again. " I passed y/n. I made the audition. " He said. Then it hit you. The audition. The one he took a month ago. He always dreamed of being an idol. From middle school, he'd endlessly talk to you about all the idols he listened to. You had to witness him singing. You completely forgot about it. " O-oh. " You replied. He saw your expression change. You look down. Not sure how you should respond.

" Well...congrats! " You look up and beam. You put on a smile. You were happy for him. But not entirely. Just when you were ready to forgive him. It felt like a pang. You were holding in more tears. You were happy he couldn't see through you this time. " I'm gonna miss you so much. " You hug him tighter. He takes in your scent. He takes note of how your trembling. Shaking because of the cold wind. But also because you were scared. Scared of losing him. Your one and only friend. The one you've been with since childhood. You knew you had to let go of him. But it's easier said than done. Will the distance worsen your relationship with him?

He pulls back and takes off his jacket. Revealing a white shirt underneath. He puts the warm clothing over your head and arms. You gleam inside at the scent of him. He takes you in his embrace once more. Inside his arms, you felt so comfortable. With him is where you belong. The sand particles getting in your hair. You knew you couldn't do anything and decided to cherish this moment.

And so the day arrived. The day where you had to bid goodbye to seonghwa. The ride to the airport was worse than you anticipated. You two looked comfortable, but there was definitely a bit of uncertainty. Specifically, because of the unspoken kiss, you two had shared. You and seonghwa pretended as if it never happened. Your parents drove you both. The long ride making you drowsy. You had a long way to go and your eyes were getting droopy. You had no clue you were leaning on his shoulder. By the time he realizes, you were already in deep slumber.

Seonghwa glanced at you, only to notice you were quietly snoozing. He tucked away a strand of hair behind your ear. He feels blood surge to his cheeks. And his mom seemed to notice. " Seonghwa? Are you alright? You seem red. " She asks, concerned. " N-no I'm fine! " He smiles. He instantly looks away and stares out the car window.

He secretly took glances of you throughout the entire car ride. Observing your perfect features. He knew he would greatly miss you. He'd wake up starting tomorrow knowing you're nowhere near him. He couldn't just walk up to your house again. He was gonna be alone.

You jolt awake when you felt the car stop. Your eyes were still half-closed. You look to your side and see seonghwa gathering his things. He turns to you to wake you up. But you already did that yourself. He smiles when he sees your awakened self. He extends his arm and fixes your messy hair. After that, you both just look at each other. This bittersweet moment all to yourselves. He continued caressing your hair. " I'm gonna miss you y/n. " He pouts. " Not as much as I will " You laugh. He smiles, at least you laughed before he left. He pulls you to a hug. He sneaked in a kiss on the cheek while doing so.

When you two parted ways, it wasn't a happy moment. Sure you wanted him to achieve his dreams, but part of you didn't want him to go. But all you could do was smile and wave. And so your feelings continued to latch on. You often thought about him. If his life was better there, did he find friends? For the first few months, you two often talked. But as more days progressed you and seonghwa grew busier. No time for one another. You two hadn't contacted each other in months. You could catch yourself frequently thinking if he ever forgot about you.

Five long years passed. Every day you waited for a call, at least a text. It continued like that for months. You were still hoping. Hoping he'd contact you once. That hope eventually died out. You figured he was too occupied to even talk to you. You'd be lying if you said you weren't sad.

Now it's the present.

You continued walking. Breath shaky due to the temperature. Your boots made a sound that echoes through the street. Your hometown brought back many memories. Both happy and sad. You had nothing to do, so walking around seemed to be your only option. Your surroundings were dark, but it didn't scare you.

You settled down by a nearby bench. The trees swayed with one another. You took a deep breath, your hand slips through your pockets, and grip your earphones. You connect the wire to your phone, playing your recently made playlist. The shuffle landed on a song you quite loved. You hum to the beat of the song, tucking away a thread of hair the same way he did. He may have not known, but you were awake the whole time. Trying to fall asleep but couldn't.

You chuckle at the faint memory. It may be years later but you still could recall it. Despite your best attempts of forgetting it, it popped up at the most random of times. Why Park Seonghwa? When can you stop haunting me?

You sigh and thought of something else. You didn't notice a figure moving until you felt your right earphone being pulled. Your reflexes acted up and threw a punch to whoever grabbed it. You wanted to scream, but before you could you heard a groan. You looked down and saw a coated boy with dyes hair, holding his cheek from the impact. The adrenaline wears out. You panic, you just punched someone. " Oh my god, I am so- seonghwa?! " Your eyes wide the moment he turned his head to you. He faintly smiled back, still recovering from your assault.

" What are you doing here...? You raise both your brows. " Nothing much...just wondering around. " He admits. You stood up, brushing off the dust on your jacket. " Aren't you supposed to be in Seoul? " You asked with a hint of bitterness. You roll your eyes. Seonghwa too stood up. You wanted to walk away but he ended up walking with you. " What's wrong with visiting my hometown? " He shrugged. How could he just talk to you casually after years? " It's been five years seonghwa. " You stop in your tracks and look at him. His expression quickly shifted from joyful to shameful.

" You can't just waltz back to my life and pretend that you didn't talk to me for five whole years! " You spoke. " L-look I- " You interrupted him. " And I'm not done! Yes, I get that your busy but you couldn't at least text me once? Can you imagine what I felt? I stared at my phone endlessly waiting for a text from you! " You pause, taking a deep breath. " It's late. You should get going. " You mumble. " No, listen to me. " His fingers clutch your wrist. You had no option but to listen to him. So you stood there, both ears open.

" I was also waiting. At one point I thought you got over me. I thought you found someone else... " He explains. You took a few seconds to process it. " Tch. " You grinned. Then unexpectedly you pulled the tall male into a hug. " You know I would never forget about you right? " He mumbles against his chest. He smirks just before snuggling you back. " God I missed you so much " He places a kiss on the top of your head. You felt yourself blush. When did he become so flirty? What did Seoul do to him?

" I missed you too... " You shyly say. You only hug him tighter, finding consolation in his warmth. All of a sudden you felt one of his fingers lift your chin up. You felt the world around you stop as he leaned in slowly. You didn't get a chance to pull back. But the thing is, you didn't want to. You stood still, waiting for when your lips would meet his. You both close your eyes when you felt each other's lips. He backed you up. Eventually, your back met the wall. You were trapped in between him and the wall behind you. This felt like what happened years ago. Your breathing steady as the kiss progressed. Over the years he too developed feelings for you. And your feelings for him never went away. The entire time you two shared the kiss, he was sweet and gentle with you. " You don't know how much I missed you " He seductively said before pulling you into another kiss.

You felt his tongue lick your bottom lip, conceivably asking for permission. You did as so and gave him entrance. It hastily escalated from a sincere kiss to a makeout session. You pull back, somewhat worried. " Seonghwa we can't do this here! We'll get caught! " You whisper-yelled. He wipes off the smudged lip balm with his thumb. He grins before stepping back. He laces his fingers with yours. He pulls you by his side, sauntering with him towards the path of your house. Your small figure beside his was an adorable contrast.

" Does this mean we're official...? " You ask, slightly embarrassed. You both continued walking. " Of course, love. " He leans down to peck you on the lips, " I've loved you since childhood. ".

#ateez #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez time stamp #ateez imagine #ateez masterlist #ateez reaction #ateez au #ateez smut #ateez angst #hongjoong x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa angst #park seonghwa #park seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x reader smut #seonghwa x reader angst #kpop reactions #seonghwa x reader fluff #seonghwa x you #ateez incorect quote #choi san x reader

[betsyandmaxwellandduchessohmy]

this isn't even an imagine request but it can be if you want it to be; AU's where dadsona is actually a Fairy Godfather, and not a very good one at that; they resort more to actual fathering than magic most of the time, but one or more of the dads catches them in the act of something they just CAN'T explain away.

((I'm so love for magical au's. How could I not use this bad boy as a prompt?

Decided to give Brian the spotlight on this one, because there’s really not a lot of Brian content. Which is a damn shame! I didn’t enjoy Brian’s route as much as the other dads, because I felt like the competitive streak the route used for the dadsona was more mean-spirited than my own irl competitive streak, but I love Brian as a person! He’s so sweet and gentle and tbh I wish my dad was more like Brian. I have dad envy for Daisy. There. I said it.

A little late on the promised time, but in all fairness to me, I work a late shift at work tonight and had to sleep late so I don’t fall asleep on the production line.

I kind of borrowed the baby teeth thing from the movie Toothless, which I haven’t seen since I was ten or less but had a profound impact on my childhood. I am a grown ass woman, and I still have one of my baby teeth. There was just no adult tooth underneath it, so I have to take extra good care of it. So! If that’s a canon rule for toothfairies/magic, I have a pass to see it!))

~~~

Make A Wish

You sighed softly, kicking a bit of sand as you walked down the beach. It was a beautiful afternoon - a spattering of clouds in the sky, but nothing big enough to block the sun’s bright rays for more than a minute. You had been planning to spend the evening at the baseball fields, watching Craig’s girls’ game, but the other team’s coach had called, saying their bus had broken down and asking to reschedule. Craig said the girls were annoyed, but that they would certainly survive the ordeal of waiting two more days to crush the Pine Place Hashbrowns into the dust. 

So you found yourself with nothing to do. You had been expecting to give some kind of pep-talk, rally the girl’s spirits when they started to lose, and cheer them on to victory. Now there was no guarantee they would still need your help, if indeed they ever would have.

Your powers were chancey that way. You didn’t know if you were doing the fairy-god type of fathering until your wings popped out. There was always a pull guiding you to where you were needed, and once you found the key element of your newest task, your wings materialized, letting you know you were on the right track. They were sort of a radar, in their own way. And of course, this drew attention from children and the occasional tween, since they were the only ones who could see the wings when they appeared. It had taken you until Amanda lost her last baby tooth to realize that that was the defining factor. Once a kid lost their last baby tooth, they were blind to this bit of magic. 

As if on cue, your wings fluttered up, a pale iridescent green with swirling tails that stretched halfway down your calves, just in time to feel a bump to your hip that nearly bowled you over.

An undignified sound escaped your throat as you stumbled, and you looked down at your assailant - an enormous cocoa brown mastiff, with a dusky brown muzzle and ears. She looked up at you with droopy eyes, almost expectant, just waiting for you to do something. Offering your hand, she gave you a sniff and a nuzzle. “So what’s your name, gorgeous?” you asked, taking a knee so you could rub at her face. If this beauty needed a home, you’d be more than happy to provide one, but that didn’t seem quite right. Besides, she was wearing a collar - return her to her home? Except the collar only held a tag that assured a rabies shot, the back of which gave the address for the animal shelter.

But ‘home’ felt right. Looking into the dog’s dark eyes, it struck you, and you smiled. “Can I trust you to follow me?” you asked, taking a step and looking back to indicate that she should.

She looked at you blankly and you sighed. “What if I promise you treats when we get there?”

You took another step and the dog began to follow, and your grin returned. You started heading back to the cul-de-sac, the mastiff at your heels. “Duchess Cordelia? Duchess!”

Glancing back, you noticed a person with dark hair, looking rather out of sorts and clutching a bag of dog treats. It almost looked like-

You shook your head and kept walking. Damien wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a polo shirt.

In any case, they hadn’t seemed to have noticed you, so you kept walking, carefully ducking out of sight of the shelter employee

“The Duchess Cordelia, huh? I think it suits you,” you hummed, grinning at the oversized pup. “Well, Duchess, let’s get you adopted, huh?”

~~~

It was only a short walk back to the cul-de-sac, but you were grateful that working out with Craig seemed to have made it a little easier. Flying would have been easiest, had you not had to worry about being spotted, and carrying two-hundred pounds of dog.

The Duchess, seeming to know better than you what she was doing, trotted right up to Hugo’s door and began fiddling with the knob. She probably would have gotten it open, too, had it not been locked. You’d kind of been hoping Hugo would be home so you could talk him into adopting before the shelter person found their way here, but the loud music blasting from the upper floor said Ernest was probably home, and you would take what you could get. “You’ve got the right idea,” you grinned, brows furrowing nervously. “Normally I’d say ‘a little breaking and entering never hurt anyone, but. Well.” Shaking your head, you lifted your hand, waving her away from the knob, now plastered in drool and mud. Luckily, with a little zap of magic, the door creaked open, and that was all the Duchess needed to get inside. 

“MC?”

You jumped, whipping around to spot Brian, looking at you with all the concern one expected of someone who just witnessed one neighbor let a strange dog into another neighbor’s house. “Can I ask why you just-” “Duchess!?”

You groaned, grabbing Brian’s arm and hauling the larger man to the side of the house. When he tried to ask what you were doing again, you shushed him, wings fluttering nervously as you peered around the side of the building. Polo person seemed to note the open door with a groan of their own, moving quickly to the front step and knocking politely before stepping inside. “MC, what is going on?” Brian demanded. You shushed him, peering through the window. 

“I’ll explain later. For now, I just need you to trust me,” you added, whispering your plea for patience. You expected Brian to saunter off to call the police, but instead, he sidled up beside you, both of you poking your heads up over the window sill to look in on the scene. The Duchess seemed to have left the sitting room in tact, but she definitely did not like the leash that Polo Person-

“Is that Damien?”

Holy shit, that is Damien.

“... I didn’t know he wore polo shirts.”

She didn’t seem to like the idea of Damien leashing her.

Things were looking cagey; Damien seemed to be trying to reason with the Duchess, until a flash of orange drew your eye, and suddenly, the Duchess blew past Damien, tackling Ernest to the ground and eating a pizza roll from his hand “Sweet success,” you grinned, until you caught sight of your wings out of the corner of your eye. Was there something else-? “So you want to explain to me why you put a stray dog in Hugo’s house and count his son getting tackled as a ‘success’?”

Ah. So there was. “And maybe also the wings?” What.

“I mean, I’m not one to judge, and they look like they’re very high-quality, but I don’t think-” “You can see them?” Brian seemed jarred by your interruption, but even more so by the way the words “Dad can we keep her” (And when did Hugo get home?) made them fold down and vanish off your back.

“I mean- I could? A second ago?” he murmured, bushy brows furrowing in confusion as he leaned back as if to check that they truly were gone. 

“It’s… a long story,” you confessed, running a hand through your hair. “Why don’t we… get out of Hugo’s yard? I’ll explain everything.”

The two of you sneaked back out to the sidewalk, a little hand-wave and a whispered spell on your part kept the men on the front step from noticing you, but Hugo seemed thrilled with the situation, excited to have his son call him ‘dad’ again.”

Brian seemed befuddled and a little frustrated, but you walked him back to your house and sat in the lawn chairs in your backyard.

“So, as much as I would love to simplify it down to “I found a home for a dog and a dog for a home”, you being able - to see me, like that… it complicates things.”

“How so?” he asked, drawing your shy gaze. “Seems fairy straightforward to me.” Any other time, that would have made you crack up. Even now it drew a chuckle out of you, but for the most part, you were solemn. “Does it now?” “Well, you did what needed doing, in an odd sense and with an admittedly strange method, but it did seem to work. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Hugo smile like that when talking about Ernest.”

You couldn’t help but smile, glad to have had a hand in your neighbor’s joy.

“I just… this can’t really be real, can it? I mean, that very nearly looked like magic,”

“It was,” you sighed, drawing his eye. “What i don’t understand is how you saw my wings. Only kids ever see them! People lose the ability to see magic when they lose their baby teeth - it’s a representation of childhood innocence thing.”

“I still have a baby tooth. There was no adult tooth underneath, so if that’s the rule… I didn’t exactly break it…” You sighed, taking a long dredge of pop.

“If that’s the case, I’m surprised you haven’t seen anything before. We’re not exactly subtle around adults, since they usually can’t see any magical shenaniganery.”

“Okay. Well, the wings are gone now, so… what’s that about?”

“They become visible when the job starts and vanish when it ends,” you explained, resting your elbows on your legs and folding your hands. “I told you I travel around town for work, and that I worked with kids, both of which are true.”

“You said you were a child psychologist.” “I said no such thing. I told you about my job and let you draw your own conclusions. The actual, official title is Fairy Godparent. The wings are… sort of a radar. When there’s something I can do to help someone who needs it, they become visible and act as a sort of calming aura, to let kids know that they can trust me. Sometimes it’s granting a wish kind of help that they need, for bigger stuff, but most of the time… most of the time, they just need someone to talk to. To tell them it’s going to be alright.” You gave a shrug, summoning a few cans of soda from the garage and offering one to Brian. Who accepted dumbly and looked at the unlit firepit as he absorbed all he’d been told. 

“So… Wand? Crown? Magic?”

“The crown and wand are a uniform thing, I only wear them to meetings and evaluations.” “Fairies have meetings and evaluations?” “There are offices, too. Real similar to mortal offices, except everyone has wings,” you chuckled. Sighing softly, you took a sip from your can. He did the same. 

He pestered you with questions for the next half an hour; Are there other fairy god parents in Maple Bay? Did Amanda know? Was her other parent a fairy too? How well did being a fairy pay? You answered them dutifully; Yes, we all work in precinct-like sectors, she’s always known, Alex was a mortal, it pays well enough.

“You think the dog is a good plan for Ernest?” he asked finally, after you finally caved and lit a fire to show off a little magic. 

“It’ll give him a chance to be responsible, and hopefully give him and Hugo something to bond over,” you hummed, finishing off your can. Brian chuckled, scratching at his beardy cheek with a thoughtful look. “You alright there big guy?”

“I was just thinking…” “Uh oh, that’s worrying.” “Watch it, MC.” “Sorry,” you gave him an apologetic smile. He pouted lightly at you, but it melted into a smile of his own a moment later. “What were you thinking?”

“I probably should’ve figured something magical was going on a lot sooner,” he stated, swirling the last of his soda in the can and watching you out of the corner of his eye. His grin went a little cheeky. “There always was something enchanting about you.”

You would have spit out your soda if you’d had any left. Instead you choked on air, looking at him with wide eyes and red cheeks. You ducked your head, trying to hide your smile.

The stars had begun to dot the twilight sky. You heard a deep ‘boof’ a few houses down, and somehow, in years of performing magic big and small, this was the first time you were the one to be bewitched.

#Brian Harding #Brian ddadds #ddadds brian #ernest vega #ernest ddadds #ddadds ernest #hugo vega #hugo ddadds #ddadds hugo #damien bloodmarch #damien ddadds #ddadds damien #duchess cordelia #duchess ddadds #ddadds duchess #here come the dads #Make A Wish

[motleyfuckingcruee]

Rocket Queen

1.6: Christmas Day PT 2

Henley's P.O.V

"Tommy?"

He turns around to see me standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Wow, he's gotten. . .more punk rock. His hair is no longer brown like I remember. It's completely pitch black. Makeup is evident on his face. Better than I could ever do. He's wearing a ripped up Ramones t-shirt and black leather pants. I can't help but notice that he's wearing platform heels, causing him to be even more of a giant than he was before. I didn't even know they made heels in men's sizes. A grin is on his lips.

I run forward and wrap my arms around the tall drummer. I try not to let the tears fall, and surprisingly I'm successful.

Tommy not so much.

I almost laugh as I feel sobs wrack through his body.

"Tommy?" I say quietly. He pulls away from the hug to look in my eyes. His makeup is now smeared. There's mascara running down his cheeks. "What are you doing here?"

He smiles. "I just missed you too much." Tommy cups my face in his hands, a sweet smile on his lips. "The tour with Ozzy was crazy, but worth it. We're not even done yet."

"Aren't you guys supposed to still be on tour?" I ask, confused.

He shakes his head. "Oz let us off for Christmas, and I think he was starting to lose his mind. Sharon couldn't even keep him in line."

"I've always wanted to meet her! Is she as nice as I've heard?"

He nods. "She's the mom figure on tour. She kept all of us in line. Even Nikki!"

I laugh, shaking my head. "I've only seen Angel keep Nikki from doing stupid shit." I pause, fear rushing into my veins. "He hasn't cheated on her, has he?" Tommy looks down at his feet, ashamed. That's my answer. "Tommy!" I screech. "How could you let him do that? Angel is going to be crushed when she finds out! How could you just let that happen? Angel is like your little sister and you're going to let him hurt her! I don't think you understand just how much she's in love with him!"

Tommy sighs, shaking his head. "I know. But with all the drugs and booze. . .I can barely remember what happened most nights."

I groan. "Tommy you promised me you wouldn't get into all that bullshit!"

"I know, I know," He sighs, looking very disappointed in himself. "I'm so sorry, Henie."

"But you're not going to stop, are you?" I ask, already knowing the answer. "You're already too addicted to that lifestyle, aren't you?"

He nods, lowering his head. I know he feels guilty. I shouldn't make him dwell on it though. He doesn't deserve that. Even though he's a huge partier that sleeps with tons of girls, he's still a sweet heart that would do anything for those he loves.

"Just. . .," I trail off. "Don't die."

His head snaps up, a smile spreading onto his lips. "You can't get rid of me that easily."

I giggle, hugging him again. As we pull away, I hear my phone ringing from upstairs. I figure that it's Athena so I pull Tommy up the stairs and into my room. I pick up the phone, feeling giddy. It's so good to have Tommy back.

"Hello?"

"Hey!" Stevie's over excited voice yells into the phone.

I wince, but the smile never leaves my face. "Yes, Steven?"

"I have the greatest idea."

"I'm scared," I laugh.

"This idea is less dangerous than the last one, I promise," He says. I can practically see the grin on his face. "We should throw Duff a surprise party!"

I laugh, shaking my head. "Steven, your birthday is closer than Duff's. And his is February fifth."

"I don't know, I just want to have a party," He responds.

I laugh again. He's something else. "You could've just said that in the first place. When were ya thinking?"

"Tonight!"

"Wasn't what we did last night technically a party?" I ask.

"No! We didn't even open the booze," He answers.

"Alright fine," I say. "What time do you want us over?"

"Oh, whenever. I'm sure Duff is already drinki-. Wait a minute. Who's we?"

I glance over a Tommy who's busied himself with looking through my record collection. "My best friend came into town."

"Oh! Okay well bring her too," Steve says.

I wince. They're going to be in for a surprise.

"We're on our way now."

"Bye!"

Before I can say 'bye' back Steven had hung up the phone. I laugh to myself. He's such a dork.

"Who was that?" Tommy asks.

I jump, not expecting to hear his deep voice. "Uh," I laugh. "That was my friend Steven. He really wants to have a party tonight and I told him we'd come." Tommy nods, looking down at my chest with a distracted look on his face. I look down and blush, realizing I'm still in the revealing top Madeline had me wear. "I swear to God, Thomas, if you are staring at my boobs-."

"I'm not!" He interrupts me, his face turning red. "I was looking at the necklace."

I look down and see the beautiful necklace Duff gave me. His hazel eyes are fresh in my mind, along with his beautiful smile. Butterflies erupt in my stomach at just the thought of him.

"Who gave it to you?"

I bite down on my lip, not sure if I should tell Tommy about Duff being my boyfriend. "Um, my-uh-boyfriend gave it to me last night as a Christmas gift."

"So Steven is your boyfriend?"

My eyes widen. "What?! No! Steven is Madeline's boyfriend."

"Then who's yours?" Tommy asks.

"I have a polaroid of us somewhere," I say, already on the hunt for it.

Tommy's quiet as he moves to sit on my bed. "That's weird."

"What is?" I open a book to see if I put it in there.

"You having a boyfriend," Tommy responds. "I'm used to you being. . .well. . .without a boyfriend."

I laugh as I find the polaroid wedged in a book I was reading a few nights ago. "It just happened last night, so it's brand new." I sit down next to him on the bed. I hand him the polaroid.

I smile as I look at it. Steven took it of us when we weren't paying attention. Duff was trying to teach me how to play bass, even though I was horrible at it. I had the bass on my lap, but my attention was on Duff. I remember he made a really stupid joke that nearly killed me with laughter. Duff's looking right back at me with a huge grin on his face as well. We looked. . .in love. Wow, I didn't realize he made me that happy.

"You look happy," Tommy says, practically reading my thoughts. "He seems like your type."

"Oh, I have a type?" Tommy nods. "What would that be?"

"Bass players," Tommy responds, a smile on his face.

"I do not!"

"Don't act like you didn't have the smallest crush on Nikki," Tommy says.

"I did not have a crush on Nikki!"

"Sure ya didn't," He laughs, standing up. "Come on, we got a party to get to."

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All fics: @the--blackdahlia @sugar-content @sharon6713 @siliwanoel @charlyallise @lo-bells @lauravic @livingdeadharley @kawennote09 @ozzypawsbone-princeofbarkness @hllywdwhre @abbysdogcollar @nikkisixxwiththebass @waywardprincess666 @tommyleeownsme  

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Duff: @daisystuffsstuff

[harryfreakinstyles2]

Torn (Part 1) H.S.

The sunlight is streaming through the curtains and gleaming off the vinyl flooring of my apartment while I try to force myself to roll out of bed. My alarm is screaming at me for the tenth time this morning. My eyes strain against the intrusion of light as I reach for my phone on the nightstand to stop the ringing in my ears from that damn alarm. I glance at the text on my screen from my best friend that I must have received after passing out around one am last night while trying to finish my essay.

Julie is almost the complete opposite of me in every way. She's unorganized and scatter brained and way more adventurous than I will ever be. But she also makes our little two-bedroom apartment feel like home even with the dirty dishes she leaves in the sink and as crazy as she drives me, I would honestly be lost without her.

Me: You know I had that essay to finish! But it sounds like you had fun like usual! I might have to join you next time! We'll see! Lol

I text back and head to the bathroom to hop in the shower before class. I turn the water on and wait impatiently for it to heat up, my tiny bathroom becomes filled with steam as the hot water helps wake me from my zombie state and relaxes my muscles. I'm dreading class this morning. My stupid elective class I took because I figured it would be an easy A to fill in the extra credits I need to graduate in May, but I am starting to realize that the easy A might not be worth the painful boredom of sitting in that stupid class twice a week. I hurry along getting ready as the morning is rushing by faster than I realized and soon I'm running out the door praying I have time to get coffee on the way.

*

I stick my key in the lock of my apartment door still sipping on my iced coffee. I feel mentally drained after having to put so much energy into staying awake in class, luckily it's the only class I have on Thursdays. I can smell the scrambled eggs as soon as I walk into the apartment. Julies favorite hangover food, I will never understand how that girl can go out so much during the week and still go to work and finish all her school.

I walk into the kitchen and I laugh to myself while taking in Julies disheveled appearance, the aftermath of her late night out.

"Shut up", She groans glaring at me from her spot in front of the stove.

"I'm sorry, but you look pathetic" I laugh again not being able to hold in my amusement.

"Don't be a bitch, you're just jealous that I had a blast last night while all you did was write a paper all damn night." Julie snaps at me but I can see the hint of a smile on her face.

"Alight alright" I say with my hands up in surrender not wanting to actually piss her off. I pull a barstool out from under the counter and take a seat across from her.

"I was serious when I said you are coming out with us this weekend" she huffs, "We are going to this cool hipster club that just opened down the road. It is going to be a lot of fun. And I'm not giving you a choice, so tomorrow night, we'll head out around ten." Her words rush out fast. I am assuming it's so I won't have the chance to interrupt her and make an excuse of why I will not be doing anything of the sort. I roll my eyes when she turns back around to flip her eggs.

"I really don't want to... It's been a long week between work and school and all I want to do is sit on the couch and watch a movie." I groan at my relentless best friend. This is her third attempt in the past two weeks to try and get me to go out.

"Allie, you're 21, not 81. Would you please stop being so lame and just come out with us!" She pleads with me, "It'll be fun I swear!"

"Ughhhhh fine but if I hate it and get bored then I'm coming back home!" I say giving in but still hating the idea.

"Fine fine! Ahhhh yay!! It's going to be great!" Julie excitedly jumps up and down like she is twelve and are moms said yes to a sleep over on a school night. Finally she stops, leaving her dark brown hair messier than it was before, if that is even possible. I try my best not to laugh at her again.

"Alright I'm going to go to my room for a bit before I have to go to work at 6. Do you work tonight?" I ask. Her work schedule is constantly changing every week I can never keep up.

"Yea unfortunately, I wanna call out but I can't because I have tomorrow night off to go out and I actually need to make some money for a change." She says with a groan.

"Okay then I'll see you tomorrow! Be sure to put on your best fake smile and maybe brush your hair or something or you won't be getting very many tips tonight" I tease her as I walk to my room. I turn around just in time to see her middle finger raised in the air at me with a smile on her face.

*

My evening shift at the local coffee shop blurs by as the hipster kids and sorority girls shuffle in and out throughout the evening. I found I was convincing myself that going out tomorrow night is exactly what I need to get out of this comfortable rut I have found myself in the past few months. With graduation about three months away I should probably have some actual fun before my college days come to an end even though night clubs are not exactly my idea of fun.

*

I wake to a loud pounding on my bedroom door. "Allie!!! Get up! We have to pick out an outfit for you for tonight! I have to leave for work soon! Get up! We won't have time later!" Julie continues banging on my door.

"Ugh, Jules! Give me like 10 minutes!" I groan back at my annoying best friend. She insisted last night that she had to pick out an outfit for me because I don't know what a proper "club outfit" is.

Ten minutes later I've brushed my teeth and changed into some shorts and a t-shirt. I open my bedroom door to find Julie sitting impatiently at the counter with a cup of coffee.

"Okay, come on in and let's get this over with." I say to her rolling my eyes. This is not what I want to be doing at nine am.

"Oh stop being so dramatic." Julie mumbles at me as she walks past me and into my room.

I follow behind her and sit on my bed as she starts to dig through my closet for her version of an acceptable outfit for this evening.

"Okay, so we want something sexy but also comfortable. Maybe some skinny jeans and a cute tank top. Or even a jean skirt," she says excitedly.

"Sexy. Really. You know I can't pull off sexy." I mumble at her. Does she honestly think I can be sexy. She has definitely lost it. In the thirteen years she has known me I have never been sexy. I don't even own anything that could be considered sexy.

"Yes, sexy. You have the curves all you're missing is the attitude Al."

I don't have the first clue on how to come off as sexy, but I have a feeling Julie is going to teach me. This was such a bad idea. I can already tell that tonight is going to be a disaster.

Twenty minutes later I'm standing in front of my closet staring at myself in the floor length mirror in one of Julies jean skirts that rests nicely on my hips and stops a few inches above my knees and only makes me slightly uncomfortable. She has paired her jean skirt with one of my low-cut white tank tops and a pair of short strappy black heels. Lucky for me it has been a warm winter and it only gets into the mid-sixties right now at night here in Georgia. Especially considering Julie told me I am not allowed to wear the gray cardigan I tried to put over the tank top.

"So? What do you think?" Julie asks me while I stare at myself in the mirror. She's beaming, obviously proud of her work.

"Umm I like the outfit, but I'm not sure," I mumble.

She rolls her dark brown eyes at me, "Allie, you look hot trust me. You just have to own it. That is the key to being sexy, it is all about the confidence."

"Alright," I try to say with a sense of confidence, but my voice betrays me and I sound even more unsure than before.

"Shit, I have to go I am going to be late for work" Julie says as she rushes out of my room. "You look amazing! I will be back in time for us to do our hair and makeup before we leave! See you later girlie!" She yells to me before she slams the front door closed behind her.

I let out a breath I didn't notice I was holding as I look at myself once more in the mirror. My chest fills the tank top nicely threatening to overflow because of the pushup bra Julie forced me to wear even though she knows I hate wearing it because it makes my boobs look even bigger than they already are. She doesn't understand that problem seeing as she barely has any boobs. The tight tank top paired with the fitted jean skirt shows off my tiny waist and curvy hips. The jean skirt goes down just far enough to cover my full upper thighs. Overall I don't hate the outfit as much as I expected to, if I wear my long blonde hair down and maybe curl it a little I think I might be able to pull it off.

I groan staring at myself in the mirror one last time before collapsing onto my bed. I have no idea what to expect tonight I haven't been out since my freshman year. Even though Julie will be there I can already see myself sitting in the corner the whole night. I hope the night won't be a complete disaster. At least all our friends will be there and I can catch up with Emily. I push away the anxiety as I hang my outfit for tonight back up and head to take a shower.

I'm sitting on the couch buckling the straps of my black heels as Julie walks out of her room looking like a Victoria Secret model in her tight dress that leaves little to the imagination. She spent an hour doing my hair and make up after she got home from work and I spent most of that hour telling her to tone it down. It has always been that way with us. She is the one who wears full make up and heels almost everyday and I am the one who forces myself to put on eyeshadow every now and again and wears converse as much as possible. But somehow we always seem to balance each other out, she helps me step out of my comfort zone and I keep her from being arrested.

"See this is why I don't go out with you!" I grumble at her.

"What are you talking about? I didn't even do anything!" Julie says defensively while grabbing her matching clutch off the kitchen counter.

“You didn't have to, you just come out looking like that and when I stand next to you I look like a freakin sack of potatoes!"

"Are you kidding me!?! Look at you! I wish I had those curves! We both look great and we are ending the conversation there." Julie says annoyed at my comment.

"Whatever." I mumble back.

"You are not going to start this night pouting, so get over yourself and let's go the Uber is ready downstairs!" she says sternly. Julie is the kind of person who has no problem telling you how it is, she has been that way ever since we were kids.

The Uber ride to the club lasted barely five minutes leaving just enough time for my stomach to get queasy with nerves. The car comes to a stop in front of a building littered with people stumbling in and out of the doors. Julie says a rushed 'thank you!' to the Uber driver as she pulls me out of the car behind her.

"Come on! Everyone else is already inside!" she says as she pulls me along after her and into the crowded building. I glance at my phone it is now ten o'clock, I will stay till at least midnight and then leave I decide.

The room is so dark it is hard to see the faces of the strangers as we shove our way through the crowd to find our group of friends waiting for us. There is a slight stench of smoke in the air and my heels stick to the floor just enough for me to notice. I hate this already. Julie is aggressively pushing her way through the overly friendly crowd of strangers. I decide that my best bet is to stare at the back of her head and follow closely behind her so I don't get lost. Suddenly Julie does a high pitch squeal letting me know she has found our friends. Our usual group of friends are standing around a high top table toward the back corner of the club. There's Maya, who Julie and I met in freshman English. Julie gets along with her better than I do because they have similar personalities and Maya will go out with her any day of the week where I will not. Then there is Dylan the common frat boy with the perfect hair and teeth, wearing his usual khaki pants and button up shirt. Maya and Dylan have been dating for a little over a year now. Next to the already drunk Dylan is his best friend Sam. Sam is in the same frat as Dylan and despite being best friends, Sam is sweet, polite, and funny unlike Dylan who is usually obnoxious. Sam is much more attractive than Dylan with his light brown hair cut short and his muscular arms looking perfectly tanned in his white button up. On the other side of the table there is Tabitha and Emily. Tabitha and Maya have known each other since middle school so they are really close similar to Julie and I. Wherever Maya is, Tabitha is usually close by. I get along best with Emily out of the three girls. She is quieter than the others and although she has no problem going out and having a good time she has a lot of other priorities she is focused on as school is coming to an end. We tend to sit and talk whenever we are all hang out while everyone else is drinking and goofing off.

"No way! Allie you actually came!?!" Maya says too dramatically bringing the attention of the whole group to me. "I mean Julie said you were coming but I thought she was just joking!" Maya continues with an annoying giggle and I force myself not to roll my eyes at her.

"Good to see you too Maya. Can someone point me in the direction of the bar please." I say to hopefully change the topic. I am going to definitely need a drink to get me through this night.

"I was just about to go get myself a drink if you wanna come with me?" Sam offers with a smirk making me blush like always.

"That would be great! Thanks," I say with a smile.

Sam is quiet most of the time but he is charming. And he is one of those guys who is absolutely gorgeous and has no idea.

Julie rushes over to the girls and the giggling starts instantly as Sam and I walk away from the group.

We make it to the bar with Sam only having to guide me past one group of drunk guys. Even with heels on I am still quite short making navigating the crowded club difficult as I can't see where I'm going. I order my usual crown apple and sprite, and try to refuse when Sam wants to pay for my drink but ultimately he wins as he hands the bartender cash and walks away with me following behind.

"So are you as ready for graduation as I am?" Sam awkwardly starts conversation over the loud club music as we make our way back to our group of friends. This was the usual with Sam. For a guy who is this attractive and has girls falling all over him, he always comes off awkward when we try and talk.

"Yeah I'm so excited, but also incredibly nervous. There is too many decisions still left to make," I awkwardly laugh.

"I get that. You would think that since we are finally finishing we would be less stressed out not more," Sam says with laugh.

I turn to respond catching his blue eyes, leaving me speechless. I am saved as we arrive at the table and Sam is greeted by Tabitha begging him to dance with her. She clearly already had a few drinks and Sam is too sweet to say no.

The night feels like it is dragging on forever. I'm not having a bad time but there is definitely other things I would rather be doing and on top of that Julie seems to be in a crap mood for some unknown reason so she is not making the night any better for me. It has been about an hour and a half and I've had three drinks making me just tipsy enough that my nerves have vanished.

"Jules I really have to pee!" I whine at her again.

"Okay okay, just give me a minute," She says staring at her phone.

"I've been waiting like ten. Just point me in the direction of the bathroom. I will just go by myself," I say back irritated as I sway back and forth to help with my urgent need to pee.

"Okay fine, go towards the bar and to the left," She instructs me without look away from her phone. I am trying not to get annoyed at her but she begged me to come out and has barely said two words to me since we got here.

"Thank you!" I say dragging the words out dramatically.

I make it to the bathroom without any issues to my surprise considering the three drinks I have had and the crowd seeming to have grown in the last hour. Luckily there is only one girl in line and I don't have to wait long. I wash my hands and check my make up in the mirror surprised it still looks almost perfect. I walk out of the bathroom and reach down pulling the hem of my skirt further down my legs as I walk.

"Ugh fuck!" I mumble as I collide with something solid and liquid pours down my skirt and legs.

"Oh shit! Sorry!" I hear a thick English accent respond.

I look up to find bright green eyes staring directly into mine. They are slightly covered by a mop of beautiful dark brown curls. His eyes stay locked on mine so intently that I have to look away so he can't see me blush under his gaze.

"It's fine. It was my fault I wasn't paying attention." I say faster than I intended as I wipe at my skirt.

"Wait a minute, let me uhh...." the handsome stranger starts to say as he looks around and then disappears and reappears with a rag from the bar.

"Here, I'm really sorry," He says again holding his hand out to me with the rag in it.

I take a second to glance at the tattoos covering most of his left arm. Quickly dragging my attention back to the liquid running down my legs I grab the rag hoping he didn't notice my staring. I wipe at the remainder of whatever he had in his cup off my legs and look up to find him staring again.

"Thanks," I mumble quietly despite the loud music as I hand him back the rag. My cheeks feel like they are burning, partially from the alcohol in my system and partially from his staring.

“The least I could do. I'm Harry," He says with a smile revealing large dimples in his cheeks while holding out his empty right hand for me to shake. I stare at his outstretched hand for a minute before grabbing it.

"Allie, nice to meet you. Sort of," I say returning his smile and taking his hand in mine. His large hand makes mine feel even smaller.

"Allie." he repeats with a smirk. His accent making it sound beautiful while his eyes continue to stare into mine making my stomach flutter. I am so happy I downed that third drink or his stare alone would have made me a mumbling mess by now.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry #harry edward styles #one direction #one direction imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb