#she's like. The Woman. in the self help book. and i fucking could not stand it. ross' dee is so perfect though

[impossibleheartflower]

MAPS BY MAROON FIVE IS CAMILA DUNNE'S SONG MAPS BY MAROON FIVE IS CAMILA DUNNE'S SONG MAPS BY MAROON FIVE IS CAMILA DUNNE'S SONG MAPS BY MAROON FIVE IS CAMILA DUNNE'S SONG MAPS BY MAROON FIVE IS CAMILA DUNNE'S SONG MAPS BY MAROON FIVE IS CAMILA DUNNE'S SONG MAPS BY MAROON FIVE IS CAMILA DUNNE'S SONG MAPS BY MAROON FIVE IS CAMILA DUNNE'S SONG MAPS BY MAROON FIVE IS CAMILA DUNNE'S SONG MAPS BY MAROON FIVE IS CAMILA DUNNE'S SONG MAPS BY MAROON FIVE IS CAMILA DUNNE'S SONG MAPS BY MAROON FIVE IS CAMILA DUNNE'S SONG MAPS BY MAROON FIVE IS CAMILA DUNNE'S SONG

#i was there for you in your darkest times BUT I WONDER #WHERE WERE YOU!!!WHEN I WAS AT MY WORST DOWN ON MY KNEES! #AND YOU SAID YOU HAD MY BACK SO I WONDER WHERE YOU!!! (with daisy or in rehab and or groupies) #WHEN ALL THE ROADS YOU TOOK CAME BACK TO ME (billy the bitch said that it was always going to be Camila unless she died) #IT'S HARD TO RESIST TEMPTATION (eddie in the show and i think gary in the book #AND IM FOLLOWING THE MAP THAT LEADS TO YOU!!(she will always find her way back to him even after he disrespect her in the worst waypossible) #THE MAP THAT LEADS TO YOU!!! AIN'T NOTHING I CAN DO!! (SHE KNOWS she knows that she can't take that stupid love that billy has for daisy #away but she still wants things to work out bc y'know of the kids that she takes care of 'practically all by herself' even when she knows #that he will always think about daisy because she's(daisy) is practically the girl version of billy when he was an active drug addict and #he can't help but still make excuses for himself to be this tragic hero or victim of his daddy's actions #BUT SHE STILL STAYS BECAUSE THEIR LOVE IS BETTER FOR THEM WHILST BILLY'S AND DAISY'S (at the time) WAS SO FUCKIN TOXIC #I WILL STAND BY THE NOTION THAT BILLY SHOULD HAVE BEEN DAISY'S SPONSOR OMFG I HATE THAT CHEATING ASS BUM #THAT SELF OBSESSED LOSER DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH HIS LIFE SO HE SETTLES ON BEING A MORE SUCCESSFUL VER. OF HIS DAD #DAISY AND BILLY 'In LoVe'<<<<<DAISY AND BILLY HAVING A SPONSOR/SPONSEE!!!! #BILLY COULD HAVE ACTUALLY SHOWN THAT HE HAS LEGITIMATELY CHANGED BY HELPING THAT POOR WOMAN INSTEAD OF LEADING HER ON AND FUCKIN HER!!! #HE COULD HAVE SHOWN CAMILA THAT HE ACTUALLY CHANGED BY STAYING IN THE SAME ENVIRONMENT THAT LEAD HIM TO CHEAT AND NOT FUCKIN CHEAT ON HER #emotional cheating is so fucked up (ALSO HE WROTE LOVE SONGS THAT WEREN'T ABOUT HIS WIFE ALL ALONE WITH SOMEONE THAT WASN'T HIS WIFE???FUCK) #BILLY COULDN'T CONTROL HIS EMOTIONS SURE BUT TO LEAD HER ON LIKE THAT?!? #AND LETTING EVERYONE THINK THAT YOU'RE*STILL* DISRESPECTING YOUR WIFE LIKE THAT AGAIN WHILE STILL FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOUR CO-STAR?!? #someone should have castrated his ass i swear to god i was about to reach through the screen/page and strangle his ass- #I CAN'T GET OVER YOU?!?(She would always come back to him even though she really really wanted to get away from the pain that he caused her) #I HEAR YOUR VOICE IN MY SLEEP AT NIGHT (Billy's late night phone calls because he's lonely bc daisy and the band are out partying) #IT'S HARD TO RESIST TEMPTATION #(eddie in the show and i think gary in the book. she's tempted by the idea of actually getting treated right but no one can beat billy 🙄) #I MISS THE TASTE OF A SWEETER LIFE (their relationship before Billy's adultery and addiction) #I MISS THE CONVERSATION #(the way that billy used to talk to cami before he tiptoed around the fact the he sleeps with other women when she was pregnant #or is in love with someone that he spends more time with than his wife and kid when he's on tour. like he wad more carefree and happy 🫤) #I'M SEARCHING FOR A SONG TONIGHT! IM CHANGING ALL OF THE STATIONS (no matter she goes looking for a way out she hears their voice why? #because their constantly on the top of the charts bc people love to hear daisy and billy together. she tries to escape but she can't 🙁)

[fadedin2u]

hi rose toy, could you write about ellie comforting reader with body insecurities? love your writing and have a good day!!

here’s a little drabble!! this was super therapeutic to write, thank u for the lovely request anon!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i just- i don’t like myself, ellie. i don’t like anything about how i look,” you finally admit, sick of your own thoughts plaguing your mind.

ellie’s eyes are full of heartache as she says, “but i do. i like everything about how you look.”

the response makes your heart bleed more, and your lip trembles.

“you have to say that. you’re my girlfriend.”

ellie shakes her head, “hey. that’s not true. i’m not gonna say anything to you that i don’t mean, you know that.”

you look down, not wanting her to see the tears building in your eyes. “i just… i can’t help but notice how many fucking things are wrong with my body. with my face. with me.”

ellie frowns, “what makes any of it wrong? where’s the guide book telling you how you’re supposed to look?”

you get irritated in spite of knowing ellie’s good intentions, “everything tells me i’m supposed to look different than how i do, ellie. you’re the fucking beauty standard, no offense, but you have no idea what it feels like to not be.”

ellie’s eyes flash with hurt from your words, but she covers it well.

you sigh, ashamed, wiping your face, “i’m sorry, els, really. i’m not trying to pick a fight with you or make you feel like shit too, i just hate living with how i look everyday.”

ellie smoothes her hands over your sides, “do you want to know what i think?”

you take a breath and slowly nod.

“not everything about you fits the beauty standard. that’s true. but the beauty standard was created by rich, white men who are trying to make a goddamn profit off of women fucking hating themselves. so women just perpetuate this bullshit standard, because they feel like it’s attached to their worth as a human being, and everyone feels like shit, except for the dudes who’s pockets are getting fuller each time someone goes in to get a fucking lypo treatment or a nose job.”

you stay quiet, listening, even though this isn’t necessarily new information to you.

ellie takes a breath, “so, maybe not all of you fits into that stupid model of a fake woman, but how the fuck does that make you less beautiful? i love how you look naturally, because you’re fucking real, gorgeous, and human. i don’t want a fantasy girl that fits perfectly into a porn-brain infected, white, straight, limp-dick’s wet dream. i want you. i want how you look naturally, when you’re healthy and happy. because that’s when you look the most beautiful to me, no matter what.”

you take a breath. “so you’re honestly saying you wouldn’t prefer if i was more stereotypically attractive?”

ellie rolls her eyes, “that doesn’t fucking mean anything to me. i’m very fucking attracted to you, and that’s all that matters. i wouldn’t change a thing about how you look, ever.”

you nod slowly, and she pulls you into a tight hug.

“it makes me sick that you feel like you’re innately wrong in some way, because that couldn’t be further from the truth. if you’re giving yourself enough food, taking care of your body, and you’re happy, that’s exactly how you should be looking. okay?”

you know that ellie’s words don’t take away your feelings of insecurity, but it helps soothe some of the sting, the hurt.

“i’m sorry for making you preach self-love to me,” you say, smiling a little, trying to lighten the mood.

ellie looks serious as she says, “i will again. anytime you need it. i cant stand the thought of the most perfect thing in my life hating how they naturally look. i’ll say it a billion times if you need it, i promise.”

she kisses your forehead.

“do you think take-out would help you feel better? because i think it would.”

#rose writes #ellie williams #rose responds #anon ask #ellie williams x reader #tlou2 #tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie tlou #ellie x masc reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie fluff #ellie williams fluff

[geekyarmorel]

Your angst anon here but I come with a silly(stupid actually if u think about it) idea this time! Reader being abducted by MM so now she has to work under her helping with experiments, etc. MM seeing that reader has been on a good behavior decided to reward reader and goes, like, "you have a choice, pick something... within reason". Poor reader being her sleepdeprived self and with questionable life choices/morals answers that she wants to do MM's makeup... chaos ensues. Make it awkward, make it tense! MM thinking she's finally broken the girl into insanity but it's just reader being fascinated by all that is MM!

Hey! I love the prompt, sorry it took a while to get to. My writing capacity has suffered while I've been dealing with my festive anxiety this time of year. Anyway enjoy!

Insane for You (Crazy for you)

Mother Miranda x Reader

You were going insane, or rather yet, you were already insane. You're unsure of what caused you to blurt out that for a reward you wanted to do her makeup. But there's no taking it back now. The pseudo mother who is a rather brilliant and somewhat dubious scientist stood staring at you, a look of shock on her face for a moment before her brows furrowed as she looked over you.

Her face smooths out and with a very slight nod she speaks. "Very well. Tomorrow I'll let you do my makeup. You're dismissed for the day."

You can't believe what you just heard and it takes a minute for it to sink in. She turns and goes back over to her desk, her piercing eyes locking on yours again. "I said dismissed."

"Right, of course, sorry." You say quickly, removing your coat and hurrying out of the lab. Once you got back to your room you sink down to the floor as you try to gather your thoughts. You were possibly a crazy person who literally asked to do the villages deity's makeup as a reward for doing good work for said woman. "What the actual fuck." You whisper before burying your face into your hands, what had you gotten yourself into.

Of course your mouth would speak before your brain had a chance to catch it. Wanting nothing more than to spend time with her, to get just a tiny bit closer to her than you've been. Because let's face it, you were head over heels for her. You hoarded the time you spent together, collecting the small signs of familiarity that she gave. Like the slight nod she gave when you did something right or beneficial to her, or the quiet 'thank you' when you took her the warm supper you cooked for her, or perhaps the way she hovered next to you while you both worked now instead of staying far away from you.

And your big stupid brain and mouth has possibly just ruined things for you. What if you didn't do her makeup right? What if she hated it and then hated you? You shuddered at the thought, no thank you. You've seen what happens when you get on her bad side, it's scary AF and you weren't going to let yourself go down that road.

With a sigh you get up and pick up the book you had been reading but the pages held no interest to you. After the third attempt to read the same page you gave up. Instead you made your way to the kitchen, preparing supper a bit early but cooking always gave you a sense of peace. It doesn't take long before the kitchen is filled with the aroma of food cooking, you humming softly while you stir.

Once dinner is ready you fix a plate for yourself and left it on the counter while you took down Miranda's plate to the lab. She was at her desk, scribbling down some notes. You placed the dish to the side of her and get a small "Thank you."

"You're welcome." You stand for just a minute and it causes her to look at you. "I'm sorry for asking to do your makeup. I know it can be kind of an intimate thing and I don't want to overstep. It was just a stupid thing my mouth said before my brain could catch up."

Her piercing blue eyes stare at you for the longest time, her face in her resting bitch face position. "Do you really think I'm that repulsive? That you don't want to touch me?"

Your mouth dropped open and she turned back to her work. She thought you find her repulsive?? "What?! No! I-"

"I have seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not looking." She cuts you off, the grip on her pen tightening. "You let me get closer to you, let me work beside you. I thought that was progress."

"I-"

"Leave." Her words turned clipped and cold.

"No." You can't leave her thinking that you find her repulsive. "I don't find you repulsive! I have never thought that once, honestly. I look at you like that because I want to be closer to you, because I'm head over heels for you. I want to do your makeup because I want to be closer, I want to be able to reach out and touch you. But I didn't want to overstep and ruin what we've gotten." The words sort of rush out from you. "I like you Miranda, I really do."

It seemed like that lab had fallen completely silent at your words. A moment passes before she puts down her pen and rises to stand in front of you. Her hand comes and slips up your neck and pulls you close, her lips pressing against yours. They were soft and warm, and your hands reached out to pull her close against you while you kissed back wholeheartedly.

Miranda pulls back when she needs to gather her breath. "You will be doing my makeup tomorrow and we'll be having dinner together." She declares before pulling you close again for a few more kisses. "Now come on." She reaches for the plate you had set down.

"Yes ma'am." And you happily follow her out of the lab.

"Hold still."

"You're attacking my eyelashes with that mascara." She protest and gives you a sharp look.

"I'm putting a second coat on to make your lashes look fuller. Relax or I'm going to jab you with the wand."

"Try that and it won't go well for you."

"I could always kiss away the hurt." You supply with a smile. You receive a soft smile in return.

"True." Miranda stills and let's you carefully apply the mascara. You finish her makeup with a soft pink lipstick, handing her the compact so she could assess the look. "You did well."

"Thank you." You say, taking the little mirror back and casting a look at your own reflection. The purple and red hickies stuck out against your skin. "Do you think concealer would cover these?"

"You will not be covering them." Miranda says pushing your hand away so she may lean forward and press a few more biting kisses to your neck.

"Stop you'll ruin your lipstick!" You say with a delighted chuckle, playfully squirming.

"It's not the only thing I'll ruin today."

"Miranda!"

#mother miranda re8 #re8 mother miranda #resident evil mother miranda #mother miranda #mother miranda x reader #mother miranda×reader #geeky got an ask #geeky answers #geeky writes

[drmaddict]

Soulmate

Summary: Ransom finds his soulmate... and runs away.

Word count: 982

Warnings: fluff, use of (y/n), coffee gets spilled

Ransom hung out on the escalator leading to the upper sales floor of the bookstore, holding his coffee.

Harlan had threatened to cut off his allowance if he didn't participate more in the business, so he had to help out with the local reading.

He drank his coffee in large gulps. He wasn't used to getting up this early. No one should have to leave bed before two in the afternoon.

He grumbled into his cup. The stairs pushed him and his grandfather up.

He could see the first display tables. At the very front, a hodgepodge of Harlan's books. He let his eyes wander and suddenly the air was knocked out of his lungs. His heart stood still, yet raced twice as fast as usual. He was dizzy and the world was limited only to the inconspicuous side profile of a woman. She was standing in front of a table, looking at blind date books wrapped in brown paper.

He was so fixated on this girl - his soulmate - that he didn't notice that the escalator had ended and fell to the floor like an idiot. The rest of his coffee soaked into the carpet when he looked up.

She was looking at him. Wide eyes stared at him from an astonished face.

Fuck!

Ransom pulled himself together. His instincts took over and.... he ran. Turned around and took the other escalator straight back down.

(Y/n) looked completely overwhelmed after the blond mop of hair. So that's what everyone meant by, "You'll know when it happens." But why is he running away? He's not supposed to run away. God! What if I can't find him again?

"Excuse me, miss," a voice snapped her back into this world.

She looked beside her and gazed into an old, kind face.

"I have to-", she started, but was immediately interrupted.

"Don't worry. This is my grandson." He smiled calmly at her. "I want to apologize for him. He's not used to feelings." He smirked. "He didn't get very far. To the front door, at most."

"How would you know?"

"Because I ran away when it happend. I made it to the front door. When my wife found me, she hit me with her purse. I knew then, she's the one." He grinned. "You should know about your future, that Ransom is not easy."

Ransom... "He's not easy... But?", she asked.

"That's it." He shrugged. "He's not easy. I never was, either. Me and my wife still love each other." He smiled and pushed her toward the escalator. "Go after him."

Ransom stood in front of the building, ruffling his hair. What a fucking idiot. Who runs away from his soulmate? How do you blow something like this out of proportion? Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. The one person who would have been doomed to actually like him and he screws even that up. His mother was right.

"Ransom?" asked the hesitant voice of an angel.

He turned and there she stood. Cautiously, she approached him. As if he was a fawn and she didn't want to scare him away. He continued to stare at her like a retarded idiot.

She reached out her hand to him. "I am (y/n)," she said. (y/n).

He took in a breath to say something, but it caught in his throat. He didn't remember later how his hand had ended up in hers, but he knew that the most pathetic whimper crept from his throat that he had ever heard in his life.

He had had models in his bed. Women lay at his feet. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Okay. Maybe take a deep breath first," she smiled at him.

He gathered up the last of his pride. "You need to find someone else!", he said suddenly. Surprise was written all over her face. Her smile crumbled.

"You seem very nice.", he began.

"But you imagined something else. Sure.", she laughed sadly. "Already... Okay. Got it.", she smiled and looked everywhere but at his face. "I'll go-"

"No. I don't mean it like that!" he interrupted her immediately.

"I-" he sighed, "I come from a family full of scheming, selfish, self-absorbed assholes, and I," he pointed to his own chest, "am God knows the worst of them all." He looked deep into her eyes. "If I can do one thing for the person this fucking fate has assigned me, it's to save them from living in this nightmare. I'm a man-whore. I drink. Hell I wouldn't even be awake if my grandfather wouldn‘t cut off my allowance. I don't work. I'm a spoiled, distorted child and I have no will to change that. Find someone better."

She looked at him intensly, then shook her head. Ransom sighed.

"A coffee." she said then. He looked up.

"We don't have to - and I don't want to - get married right away, but let's at least have coffee," she explained herself. "After all, it's kind of my fault yours spilled."

Ransom turned bright red. He had hoped to appear cool in front of his soulmate, but he had fucked that up big time.

"There's a nice store around the corner," she said.

"They only have that disgusting filter coffee. Hell no." he blurted out.

She laughed. "You really are spoiled, aren't you?"

He shrugged. "I'll show you a real store. While I still have money, at least I can throw it at you."

She laughed. "You got a bookworm here. You'll be poor in six months if you go through with this."

"My grandfather is reading at the store today. If you know anything about books, you know his name. I'll get you any book before it's even on the market.", he finally grinned confidently again.

She looked at him, puzzled. "I've reconsidered my opinion about marrying right away."

He grinned. "Coffee first. I want to be wooed.“

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #soulmate #soulmate au #chris evans characters #chris evans character x reader #chris evans fanfiction #ransom drysdale fic #fluff

[the-writer-arcane]

the beginning of the end (day four)

PAIRING: ziggy berman x cit!gn!reader

SUMMARY: nurse lane isn’t around to help with ziggy’s burn, but luckily you are.

WARNINGS: N/A

WORDS: 1.2K

A/N: merry christmas or happy holidays!

series masterlist

The cabin is empty, the redhead discerns as she continues to call out for Nurse Lane. Her voice dying in her throat as she walks into the woman's office, an open book lying on the desk. Leather bound cover and all, whoever created this was clearing going for an antique vibe. Slowly, she turns the book towards her, gripping the edges as she begins to read.

"I don't know who you are, but I doubt Nurse Lane would appreciate you snooping," Your voice rings in her ears as you lean against the door frame. 

She spins on her heel to face you, a soft gasp leaving her mouth. "You scared the shit out of me." Nothing, just a blank stare from you as you push yourself away from the wooden frame. Glancing over her shoulder, you frown at the contents of the book. The Devil's Mark. "Hey, are you deaf or something?" Your attention snaps back to the girl in front of you.

"No, I'm just used to ignoring people."

The redhead raises an eyebrow, something like amusement playing in her eyes that she won't let show on her lips. "That's great, but uh, where's Nurse Lane? It's kind of urgent."

"So I heard, you could die any minute now." You watch as recognition registers on her face from the words she had called out earlier to a supposedly empty cabin. She opens her mouth, presumably to ask if you'd been lurking in the cabin before she got there, but you beat her to the punch. "No, I don't know where she is. Probably taking her break before the influx of campers that are no doubt coming."

"Well, at least I can say I tried," She shrugs, but doesn't move from her spot. Her eyes are wandering the cabin now. "Why would there be campers coming?"

"Well, it's day four of a shitty summer camp where kids can't seem to keep their hands to themselves. Either petty fights or fucking in a patch of poison ivy. Doesn't really matter, they'll need medical attention either way." You roll your eyes. "Not to mention the stupid Shadyside vs Sunnyvale shit that's always going on. I give it half an hour before someone gets seriously hurt."

This time, she does manage the smallest upturn of her lips. "Your calculations might be off on that one." She lifts her arm, revealing the angry patch of flesh that's darkened over time. "I got burned," she answers your unasked question.

"Shit, you okay?"

"Still standing, but Nick wanted me to make sure it wouldn't get, like, infected or anything."

You frown at the mention of Nick Goode before nodding slowly. "I can patch you up, might not be as good as Nurse Lane's, but I promise you'll still get a lollipop."

Full on smirk now, and you can't help the way your eyes fall to her lips. "Yeah, 'cause a stranger offering me candy isn't weird." She lowers her arm, wincing a bit as the wind resistance causes her burn to sting. "You promise you know how to use this stuff?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

She shoves her way past you, not bothering to say excuse me or allow you to lead the way, as she makes her way into the medical room. You catch a whiff of fresh air, and something warm as she moves. It takes you a minute to remember that you're supposed to be following her before you actually start moving. Practically jolting forward, as you realize you've been standing there way too long to be considered normal.

She's sitting on one of the cots as you enter, already holding her arm up and gently running her fingers over the burn mark. "Got a thing for pain, or do you just lack self control?" Your tone joking as you ask, making your way over to the medicine cabinet to grab a roll of bandages and some ointment.

"Neither," a pause. "Probably both, who knows what living in Shadyside gets you."

You sit on the cot across from her, humming softly in lieu of a response. Twisting the cap off, you gently squeeze some of the ointment on your finger before attempting to rub it on her burn. Attempt being the operative word, with only one hand she keeps moving and the ointment is smeared across her arm, the burn barely touched. "I'm starting to get the feeling you're not good at this."

"Well if you would keep your arm steady-"

She takes the tube from your hand, holding it out for you. Wordlessly, you stick out your finger for her to squeeze it on. "Do it yourself." She tilts her head to indicate her arm, and you use your now free hand to grab onto her bicep, the other one coming to rub the cream against her arm successfully this time. "Look at that, getting better already."

"Now, I just need to wrap your arm with the bandages so the cream can do its thing."

"Go ahead."

It takes a few moments in silence before you realize she's watching you, and the feeling, the knowing you have her attention so entirely is… too much. You clear your throat, hoping your voice doesn't crack as you speak. "So, I know you're a Shadysider, who's prone to accidents, and not great in the control department, but I still don't know your name."

"It's Ziggy. Ziggy Ber-"

"I just wanted to make sure you actually got help instead of writing it off as just another injury." Nick's eyes slide over to you before sliding back to Ziggy. He frowns at your close position, not noticing the bandages half wrapped around her arm, having dropped them. "But I can see you're fine here. You're good, right?"

"Yeah, Nick, she's fine."

He's full on glaring at you now. "She can answer for herself."

"Yeah, I can answer for myself." Ziggy says, drawing both you and Nick's attention to her. Against your better judgment your eyes are scanning her face in a manner you hope is subtle. You glance over to Nick out of the corner of your eyes, and you know the look in his eye, you've seen it before.

"Oh." They both look at you, and you swallow, trying to collect your thoughts. "Right, yeah." You nod, quickly, but you can't help but feel like your heart has slowed down considerably. Ziggy and Nick. You stand, leaving her arm only half bandaged before making your way towards the entrance, and consequently to Nick.

"Wait-" Ziggy starts, but you're already making up an excuse to get the hell out of there.

"Cindy- Cindy's probably looking for me, y'know? Probably needs help cleaning something. You- You know how to dress a wound, right Nick?"

Nick nods, but you barely see it cause you're already brushing past him. "Good, yeah, just wrap it up."

And you're gone.

Nick turns to look at where you ran off too. "What's their problem?"

Ziggy glances down at the bandage coming unwrapped. "I don't know, here, help me finish this?"

"Yeah, yeah of course."

It's only after the wound is properly dressed and she and Nick are beginning to walk out of the Nurse's cabin that she finally asks, "How the hell do they know my sister?"

"Oh, Y/N? Cindy's been training them to become a counselor."

She doesn't get a chance to ask anymore questions before she hears Cindy's voice calling her name, and while internally she groans, outwardly she rolls her eyes. Nick stifles a groan as he leaves her at the hands of yet another lecture.

Distantly, she notices that you're not with her sister like you said you'd be.

#jwykwa verse #ziggy berman x reader #ziggy berman #ziggy fear street #ziggy berman x gender neutral reader #fear street #fear street 2 #fear street x reader #gender neutral y/n

[kainebell]

ok seeing your Daphne posts and agreeing w/ literally all of them because she had SO MUCH POTENTIAL AS AN LI!! She was the only reason I didn't stop diamond mining. Like, think about that for a second: imagine a book being SO BAD you can't even skim through it for diamonds like-

Anyways, if we as the MC could have sympathized with Daphne or if she was an LI there could have been a scene where we helped her stand up to her mom!! For once in her life, she could finally have someone in her corner who she could be her true self around. I'm surprised not really ig they didn't make this book a double LI book because they went out of their way to give Daphne a sad backstory and we're supposed to not feel bad for her?? It feels weird to villanize a woman who is simply not ready to bear the responsibility of motherhood

Sorry for rambling in your ask box lol anyways i really like your blog!

ahhh ty 🥺🫶 and trust me rambling is always welcome LOL

But LITERALLY if this story had to be made, it could have (and should have imo!!) been a double LI story, rather than a single LI one but I’m also not surprised they went for the latter (in another world this could’ve also had a poly option but that never would’ve happened in this one lol). Either way, if this was a double LI book, the writers could still push Cole/Callie, that hunky cardboard cutout of a character that general audiences somehow like (🥲), while still offering a more compelling romantic option in Daphne! It’s honestly like Sofia/Robin all over again…. I would’ve killed to romance both or either of them instead of Sam 🤧 But I digress lmao. It is genuinely just insane that literally everything that could go wrong in her life has gone wrong, and we’re somehow supposed to care more about Cole/Callie than her?? When they’re the one who has created half of this mess?? They’re honestly just as bad as Estelle 😭

That said I do think the story doesn’t want us to completely hate Daphne, as there are those few and far between choices where we can sympathize with her, but the fact that those are optional dialogue choices and not just the basic direction of the story makes me crazy 💀 I genuinely wish we’d get the choice to help her stand up to Estelle but also to encourage her to tell Cole/Callie to fuck off lmao, and I honestly am kind of surprised we haven’t gotten the former?? How many other stories are there where we get to put the antagonist in their place, or encourage other characters to tell off the people making their lives hell? Why isn’t that an option here?? (We know why!!)

Anyway I’m rambling now but I will be on team justice for Daphne forever !! She shouldn’t be stuck in this relationship, she shouldn’t have to deal with her mother, and she shouldn’t have to have a child that she doesn’t want and isn’t ready for, and she sure as hell shouldn’t have to put up with a surrogate trying to steal her spouse and the kid that’s been forced on her 💀

#long post #Daphne defense is always welcome 🫶 #the billionaire's baby #Daphne stone

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC Review: Something Spectacular by Alexis Hall

5/5. Releases 4/11/2023.

For when you're vibing with... Queer romance, gender nonconformity, general hilarity and hope, found family vibes, and people who rarely get shine from historical romances taking center stage.

Peggy is in a tight spot: Arabella, her childhood friend and the woman she's in love with, has asked for her help to woo Orfeo, the famous castrato soprano visiting London. Unable to deny Arabella anything, Peggy complies--only to find that rather than resenting Orfeo, she's captivated with them. Just like Peggy, Orfeo is doesn't conform to gender norms, living on the edges of society. And in them, Peggy could find more than just attraction--but a soul-deep connection.

Man, this one was fucking something. Really daring, hilarious, sexy, and emotionally touching. Alexis Hall keeps making me happy as a reader, and I wholeheartedly adore this book.

Quick Takes:

--I've always been fascinated by the history of castrati, in part because there is a lot of ambiguity in the subject. Most (?) castrati were forcibly castrated or coerced into castration as children. While stories of accidents and illnesses were often given to justify the castration, usually the choice was not theirs--but undeniably, there were doors open to castrati, some of which, like Farinelli (who's referenced in this book) became famous, wealthy, and adored for their incredible voices. They also lost the ability to sire children, became seen as freakish or odd to some, and lived in this sort of... gray area of a very binary (on the surface) society. Alexis Hall doesn't shy away from all that Orfeo has suffered, and there's a lot of trauma going on, clearly. But he also doesn't make Orfeo this sob story of a character, this self-loathing nonbinary person. Orfeo is gorgeous, physically and emotionally, and they love their art. They clearly didn't have a choice about it--but that doesn't make the love any less valid, and Peggy does not pity them, does not turn them into some "half-man". She adores them, as she should. And they adore her.

--Peggy's gender identity is (though she uses she/her pronouns) fluid. The connection that she and Orfeo make, neither one of them a man or a woman, is really profound and something you don't often see in fiction. It's that camaraderie they have, not only with each other but their entire circle of friends (not a straight person in sight) that makes the novel so magical... Aside from the absolute gut punch of a romance that lingers between Orfeo and Peggy. Their connection is instantaneous (Peggy literally faints when she hears Orfeo sing for the first time, and Peggy is not a swooner) but it's not insta-love. Their bond grows over time, and even after it becomes physical, there's some real emotional work that has yet to be done.

--One thing I was concerned about going into this book was whether Orfeo's status as nonbinary (I've seen them specifically referred to as agender in other reviews, but I'm not 100% sure about where Alexis stands on this) would feel.... clumsily-done. In other words--is Orfeo only NB because they were castrated against their will? My interpretation, ultimately, was no; but the conflict this causes Orfeo is not avoided. They ask these questions themself. Were they always meant to be this way, or are they this way because of what happened to them? Does it matter? I personally saw Orfeo's identity as something that was a very literally a combination of who they are within (their soul) and how society has shaped them. And I think Alexis Hall confronted that conflict and reality very sensitively. But I say all of this as a cis woman, and I would be interested to see how people who aren't cis feel about it.

--I have an issue with how the romance community sometimes deals with past relationships and the conflicts they can naturally cause. You often see reviews that give actual trigger warnings for "OW/OM drama" and that just... It's fine to not like that, but acting like it's a trigger is a bit much--and I think that if we shun past loves and the conflicted feelings they can give characters, even when the relationships were toxic, we lose a lot of nuance.

Something Spectacular is a great example of why that kind of past can be important in romance. We see past relationships as issues for both Peggy and Orfeo, and they deal with them in very different ways. One of the most heart-clutching, gut-wrenching moments of the novel involves this kind of "drama". I think there's a lot of emotional honesty in this book, testifying to the chokehold that exes--or not-so-exes--can have on us, whether the relationship is healthy or not. And this drama does lead to one of my favorite romance novel reunions ever. There's RAIN DRAMA.

--The world of the book is delightful, consciously anachronistic and fun and full of cool people lazing about, seducing each other, attending operas like they're rock concerts, and having rather hysterical poetry slams that turn into.... other things. Alexis Hall writes with zero sense of pretentiousness or self-consciousness, and I think that's what we need more of in historical romance. I imagine it would be hard to come away from this book without wanting to read more of Alexis's novels, and certainly Something Fabulous.

--Not to spoil anything, but... This book confronts the concept of queer families, especially in the context of its world, in a way that I didn't expect and don't see a lot of in romance. I fucking loved it. That's all.

The Sex Stuff:

This is a sexy book. (She ain't called Peggy for nothing--name is destiny.) As soon as Orfeo and Peggy begin interacting, the sparks are real, and their sex life is quite literally bangin'. Alexis Hall does a really good job of writing sex scenes in a way that is explicit and romantic without getting bioessentialist or describing bodies in a way that is super gendered. Peggy is sensitive about her body and goes back and forth about how she feels about her breasts, and that's brought up. There's a wonderful scene of dialogue around how Orfeo, with their somewhat unique body makeup and history, experiences pleasure and how they've often been expected to "serve" rather than taking fulfillment themselves. (Peggy's reaction to this is gorgeous.) It's also just really hot. And the final sex scene in this book? Is crazy good. Hot hot hot. Something I have quite literally never read in a romance before, not in this exact form.

Here's the thing--you can write romance novels about marginalized communities and people who've experienced trauma without depriving their love stories of joy and humor and sex and swoony romance. Alexis Hall underlined that with A Lady for a Duke last year, and he did it again with Something Spectacular. Read it.

Thanks to Montlake and Netgalley for providing me with a copy of this book. My opinions are all my own.

#romance novel blogging #netgalley #book recs #arc reviews #books #book reviews #this one is a LOT A LOT A LOT and i did cry #also the fact that orfeo is wearing their feather lashes on the cover!!!

[darkgodcomplex]

Stolen

Mello X FemReader

Chapter 2

You jiggle the doorknob for what feels like the millionth time before retiring to sit on the bed in the room you're in.

After you arrived at the headquarters, you were promptly brought to this room, where you were locked in. You thought that they were going to explain what was going on, but apparently not.

You had to admit though, it was a nice room. It's large, with a bed pushed against the far wall. Bookshelves line one side of the room, while a desk occupies the other side. Near the desk is another door, which leads to a decent sized bathroom.

As you lay on the bed, you kick yourself internally for everything that happened today. Why had you been so complacent? Could you have had the opportunity to run away at some point if you hadn't been such a coward?

As you think of this, you realize that's exactly what you're doing right now, being complacent and not figuring a way out.

You stand. Surely there must be something in this room that could help with your escape, right?

You start with the bookshelf. Pulling different books from the shelves, you search for something useful. There's bibliographies, fantasy books, self help books, books on the types of birds, and even a book on self defense.

While useful, you don't think a book on self defense is going to immediately help your escape.

You move over to the desk and begin to rummage through drawers. There's the usual office supplies. Scissors. Pencils. Stapler. Erasers. Paper clips-

An idea comes to your mind. Your friend once received a lock pick set as a gift. They once showed you how to use it. Perhaps you could fashion these paper clips into a lock pick. You've picked a lock once, how hard could it be to try again?

Hard. An hour later, you were on you knees, the paper clip still in the lock.

Fuck, it had been a lot easier when you had the proper tools, not to mention the instruction of someone who actually knew how to do it.

Frustrated, you jiggle the lock wildly.

You hear a click.

You pause for a second, then try the door. Sure enough, it swung open.

You're not sure whether to be impressed or disappointed with yourself.

Still, you stand, peeking out into the hallway. Luckily, there's no one in sight. You begin to creep down the hallway, careful not to make too much noise.

You realize you have no clue where you're headed.

Why hadn't you prepared a plan before picking the lock?

As you near the end of the hallway, you hear voices coming from the other end. Panicking, you open the door closest to you, slipping inside.

It's a kitchen. As you step onto the tiled floor, you hear the voices draw closer. Grabbing a knife from where it hung above the counter, you open one of the cupboards near the floor. You manage to slip inside, shutting the cabinet door behind you. You tightly grip the knife in your hand.

You hear the door to the kitchen open and realize that through a small slit you can see into the kitchen.

Mello enters and following him is the female agent from earlier...

"I thought I told you not to follow me." Mello snaps, moving to the cabinets on the far side of the kitchen. He opens one, searching for something.

"I figured that if I didn't corner you, you would refuse to talk to me." The woman lingers by the door.

"You would be correct." Mello replies sharply, still digging through the cabinet. "Damn it, where do you keep your chocolate?"

"The last time we talked, you were fucking me in the shower at a cheap motel."

"Yeah, it was two weeks before we caught Kira for good." Mello pauses his search, looking over at her. "Listen, Halle, in the end, we were just using each other to get information. That's all it was."

You shift slightly in the cupboard, trying not to make any noise. Was Mello implying that they were directly responsible for Kira's disappearance?

You wonder if you're in deeper shit than you realized before.

"Of course." The woman, Halle as you now know, replies. She seems stiffer now and stands up straighter. "The chocolate's in the fridge." She tells him, swiftly turning and making an exit.

Mello watches her go before opening the fridge. He pulls out a chocolate bar, tearing open the packaging and taking a bite before exiting as well.

You wait for a couple minutes, listening to hear if there is anyone else in the hallway. When you decide it's safe, you exit the cupboard, still gripping the knife you took.

You're silent as you creep back into the hall, searching for some way out.

Carefully, you open the door at the very end of the hallway. You breathe a sigh of relief to see that it's a set of stairs leading downwards.

A hand catches the back of your shirt.

Matt's now familiar voice snaps at you, "What the hell are you doing-"

You slash with the knife, but he dodges, letting go of you in the process. You take this time to run. Quickly, you sprint down the stairs. You don't have time to think, you just need to escape.

At the top of the stairs you hear Matt call for Mello and Near. You continue descending, you don't have time to waste.

When you get to the bottom, you throw open the door, which leads to a small lobby. In front of you, a large glass door shows you the outside world.

You're so close-

Once you reach the door, you realize it's locked.

Fuck.

Your eyes give the room a quick scan, desperately trying to find something that can help you. You can hear the men's heavy steps trodding down the stairs after you, you don't have much time before they arrive.

You spot a chair near the edge of the room. Yes, that's it, you can break the glass!

It's heavy, but you manage to pick it up. You hear the door behind you open. With one big heave, you toss the chair at the door.

It bounces off, the glass not shattering.

What the fuck?

You draw your knife again, turning to point it at the three that just entered the room.

Bulletproof... the door must've been bulletproof glass. You think to yourself.

As you point the knife at Near, Mello, and Matt, each raises their hands up in a sign of peace. Yet, none of them look worried.

"Easy there." Mello says lightly.

"Quite unexpected." Near mumbles, eyeing you. "How did you escape your room?"

Your hand trembles as you hold the knife out, "... I picked the lock."

Near tilts his head, but doesn't comment further.

"You're smarter than you look." Matt chuckles.

It unnerves you how nonchalant they can be when being held at knifepoint.

"So now what?" Mello asks with a smirk. "What's the next step in this brilliant plan of yours?"

Your face flushes with embarrassment. It's quite clear at this point that your original plan has failed. You worry at your lip, unsure of what to do.

"Why don't you put the knife down and we can start our chat?" Near suggests.

You don't move, continuing to hold out the knife. "... I don't trust you."

"Now that's the smartest thing you've said all night." Matt grins.

"You can keep the knife, if it makes you feel safer." Near tells you.

"I've had enough of this, we're wasting time." Mello snaps, strutting forward. You don't have enough time to react before he swiftly disarms you, sending the knife skidding away as he pins your arm behind your back. You yelp at the slight pain.

Near frowns, "This isn't how we win trust."

"I'm not trying to win trust." Mello retorts as Matt picks up the knife from the floor.

"We need her cooperation." Near replies coldly.

Mello lets go of your arm in favor of approaching Near. You rub at your shoulder.

"I didn't agree to work with you to take orders." Mello grasps at the front of Near's shirt. "You're not in charge here."

Near doesn't flinch even as Mello clenches his fists, "I don't expect you to take orders, I expect you to see that the best solution here comes with her willingness to participate." He glances at you and lowers his voice, whispering something to Mello that you can't hear.

There's a pause before Mello reluctantly lets go of Near's shirt, shoving him slightly as he does so. "Whatever, let's do this in the upstairs room." He snarls, turning on his heel and heading up the stairs.

"I suppose you get this back." Matt offers you the knife, which you take. You feel kind of stupid with it now that you actually think about it. If they all have guns, what good would your knife do against that?

"Shall we?" Near asks, gesturing towards the door. You oblige.

You're led to a large sitting room. Although the grand sofa and wide coffee table take up most of the room, it's not what your eyes immediately land on. One whole side of the room is covered in monitors, each displaying something different. A news station plays on one, while on another some kind of grocery store live footage is on.

As you sit down, your eyes land on a screen with a man tied to a chair. At first your brain doesn't process the unusual device strapped onto him. It's a metal cage with some sort of rodent inside. It's placed on his chest.

There's no sound on the tv, but you can see man's mouth shape into a scream as the rodent tries to bury itself in his flesh. Yes, you remember reading something like this in a book once, rat torture.

You feel queasy, yet you can't look away as blood drips from the man's chest. Why? Why is this video playing?

"Sorry about that." Near turns the screen off, sitting adjacent to you. You blink, trying to get the image out of your mind.

Mello sits across from you, chocolate in hand as he drapes his arms over the couch. Matt flops down next to him.

"Tell us, what do you know of L?" Near asks. You notice he's begun to fidget with a rubik's cube.

"L?" You wrack your brain. "He's a detective, right? He was very big in the Kira case. He still handles a bunch of high profile cases today."

"You are sort of correct, in a way." Near seems to choose his words carefully. "You see, the current L isn't the original one."

"Like a successor?" You chime in.

"Exactly like one." Near nods. "You see, we're the current L."

You pause, "What?"

"We were trained to be his successors." Mello added in. "He died before any of us could be chosen as his official successor."

"Thus, we share the title." Near has already solved the Rubik's cube and begins to do it over.

"And avoid the hell out of each other." Mello grumbles.

"I don't avoid you, Mello." Near reminds him. Mello rolls his eyes.

"Anyway, it's been recently discovered that the original L has left inheritance." Mello takes a bite of his chocolate. "... for his next of kin. Trouble is, we don't know where the inheritance is and only the person inheriting it is supposedly allowed to get to it."

"We're not the only ones after it." Matt chimes in. "Don't forget that important detail."

"Yes, Beyond Birthday." Near sighs. "Unfortunately, he has a leg up on us, he supposedly knows where the inheritance is located, which is why we need to lure him in and capture him."

"Hold on." You interrupt. "What does this all have to do with me?"

They all stare at you for a moment, it seems as if no one wants to be the one to explain.

"Fine, I'll do it." Matt huffs. He leans forward, his voice becoming gentle for a moment. "You see, you're not exactly who you think you are. Your father... L... he-"

"Wait." You can't even begin to process this. Your father? No. Your father wasn't a great detective, he was an ordinary, everyday man that mowed the lawn on Sundays, loved barbecue, and worked a 9-5 job. "My father isn't-"

"You recently took a DNA test, no?" Near hums. "Your DNA was a match to his, we used the company's data to track you down."

"We think you were given up for adoption to protect you." Somehow, even Mello is being gentle with you now, his voice is soft.

You think you're having a small crisis. How did you not know? Why were you never told?

"So you need me... so that you can gain access to my inheritance?" You demand. "If it was meant for me, why does it seem like you expect to get your hands on it?"

There's a pause.

"Listen." Mello's voice is no longer gentle as he speaks. "We've worked our asses off to be his successors, to live up to his expectations. If anyone deserves that inheritance, it's those that looked up to him, not the person that didn't know of his existence until two minutes ago." He snaps.

"So, you're just going to use me to get this inheritance and then dump me back off?" You almost forget for a moment that these are your captors, you're that furious. "It was left for me!"

"Let's calm down here." Near tried to smooth the situation. "Nobody is laying to claim to anything yet. We all simply wish to know what exactly this inheritance is, right?"

"Most likely it'll be money anyway." Matt snorts. "Which we don't exactly need."

"But what if it's not." Mello huffs. "Some sort of last words... a tool?"

"Well we won't know until we open it." Near turns to you. "We won't deprive you of your right to what's in your inheritance, I promise. But, we need your help for a couple of things."

You bite at your lip, nodding.

"We need to know where exactly it's located." Near continues. "Beyond Birthday is the only person who knows. The thing is, he still needs another piece of the key... you."

"You want... to use me as bait?" You ask.

"I mean, we wouldn't use the word bait, but basically yeah." Matt snickers.

"Your safety will obviously be assured." Near adds. "We just to capture him."

"If you refuse, he'll still be after you." Mello says evenly. There's a loud snap as he bites off another piece of chocolate. "He will find you if we don't capture him ourselves."

Mello must have noticed that the torture scene earlier ruffled you up quite a bit, as he says, "That man tied to the chair? That was his doing."

A chill runs up your spine. You don't want to help them, but it seems as if the alternative is worse.

"Alright." You gulp. "I'll help."

Mello smiles, "Of course you will."

_________

You haven't gotten much sleep as of late.

Getting out of bed, you stretch. Even though you aren't locked in the room anymore, you might as well be. Ever since Mello, Matt, and Near had revealed their true intentions to you, you spend all your days in the headquarters, where they claim you will be safe. It's painfully boring. Mello, Matt, and Near spend all their time working and none of their agents will hold a conversation with you. So, you usually dedicate your time to reading and exercising.

Throwing on clothes, which some of their workers had kindly picked up from your house, you sigh. It's been weeks since they brought you here and you haven't had any contact with your family. You hope they're alright.

Aside from that, you also still have so many questions. You feel as if no one is willing to listen to you. Whenever you do see Matt, Mello, and Near, they tend to brush you off and attempt to placate you. You can feel the condescending aura drip off of them. It makes you furious.

Grabbing a book, you exit your room. The hallway is empty, like it usually is. You open the book as you walk, flipping to the page you were on. Without looking up, you make your way to the kitchen.

Once inside, you take the time to set down your book and make breakfast. You're not the best chef, so most days it's just a bagel with some cream cheese slathered on. Taking your place at the table, you dig in.

As the door slams open, you jump, looking up. It's not who you expected, though. The blonde agent with choppy bangs makes her way into the kitchen, sending you a glance as she heads to search through some cupboards.

Halle, that was her name, right?

"Hello," you call, your voice a tad bit raspy from underuse. You quickly clear your throat. "You're Halle, right?" Maybe you could get some information out of her.

"Yes." Halle replies, still digging through a cupboard. She seems quite disinterested in you.

You think about the interaction you overheard with her and Mello. Clearly she had a bit of history with all of them. Maybe you could get her attention through that.

"What do you know about them?" You ask. "Mello, Matt, and Near, I mean."

Halle blinks, seeming surprised. "Those three?" She thinks about this for a moment. "They're too smart for their own good." She turns back to the cupboard.

You're pleased that she actually talked to you, but you need to know more.

"How did they get to be..." you cut yourself off, wanting to say 'L's successors', but decide for a less suspicious word, "detectives."

"They were raised for it, I suppose." Halle doesn't look away from her search. "They lived at Wammy's orphanage and learned from there. It led to a kind of rivalry between Mello and Near though." Halle shrugged. "I don't really know much about back then, I didn't start working for Near until the SPK was formed."

"So you work for Near, how do you know Matt and Mello?" You press.

"They pop up now again and compete with Near on cases, Matt less so. All that guy cares about is that he gets enough money for the month to buy all the cigarettes and games he wants. Mello, however..." This time Halle pauses. Her voice goes soft. "He's so much more than that. He's ambitious and clever and passionate and-" She shakes her head. "Mello finds trouble too easily and he doesn't stop to think about the people that get in his way."

Halle finds what she's looking for and heads for the door. Before she leaves, though, she looks at you. "I would trust them all with my life, though, if that's worth anything."

Alone, you eat up your breakfast and head to the exercise room, contemplating your conversation.

Your choice of frustration outlet is the punching bag. Geared up in lightweight boxing gloves, you go to town on this poor bag as you think.

You wonder about the depth of Mello and Halle's relationship. From the conversation you overheard, it sounded like merely a fling. However, the way she talks about him makes it sound completely different.

You shake your head, you don't know why you're so focused on that part. The important part is that they were raised to be detectives.

Why?

You continue to swing punches, thrusting all your weight into it.

Why raise children to be detectives? Did L own the orphanage? Who gave them training?

Questions continue to circle around your head. Your talk with Halle gave you more questions than answers. Of course, there was also the biggest question of them all.

Why are they his successors and not-

"You're doing it wrong."

Your head snaps towards the voice to find Mello leaning on the doorframe, eyeing you.

"How long have you been watching?" You're out of breath.

Mello makes his way towards you. "Let me show you how it's done."

Mello straightens his back. You had noticed before that he was tall but when he doesn't slouch he towers above you. He brings one foot back and one foot forward, his hands in fists. They are held against his chin.

"You gotta have the proper stance." Mello notes.

With one quick move, Mello strikes a punch. His foot twists into the punch, allowing more strength behind it. You can see his well defined muscles flex with the hit. Then, he returns to his stance, the heavy bag swinging in his wake.

"See?" Mello drops his arms.

You quickly nod, not knowing how to respond.

"Try it."

You attempt to mimic his pose, carefully putting your feet in place and bringing your fists up. "Like this?"

"It's not just about feet placement, it's where you hold your weight." Mello guides you with a hand. "There you go, now punch."

You wonder why he is helping you, especially since they haven't exactly been chatty as of late. There is an odd softness to how Mello is interacting with you. It's weird.

Still, you throw the punch.

The bag doesn't swing as far as when Mello hit it, but it certainly swings.

"Good job." The edge of Mello's mouth edges up a little bit and you feel an odd sense of pride. "Anyway," Mello runs a hand through his hair. "I came here to get you. There's been another murder."

"What do you mean another?" You feel your eyes go wide.

"The murders that have been happening in the city, the supposed serial killer, it's actually Beyond Birthday." Mello sighs.

"Why is he killing people, doesn't he only need me?"

"It has nothing to do with you. He's mocking us."

You're led downstairs to a car that's parked out front and squint your eyes from the sunlight. It's been weeks since you've seen actual daylight. Matt and Near are already waiting inside with Matt at the steering wheel. You're a little nervous about Matt driving after what happened last time. His arm is still bandaged and you still have a couple of faded bruises.

"So he mocks you by killing people?" You ask as Matt pulls out of the driveway. Mello sits with you in the backseat.

"Yes, and he leaves little messages for us." Near replies.

"Bastard thinks he's clever." Mello adds.

You look out the window, scrunching your face up. "How much longer until he is caught though? How long do I have to keep hiding?"

"We've already got a plan, so don't worry." Near tells you. You don't know how satisfied you are with that answer.

Matt pulls up to a house. An ordinary house. You feel your stomach twist. Was this just an ordinary person that died for your sake?

"The incident took place in the kitchen, so we're going to be investigating there." Near tells you as you all pile out of the car.

"So don't come in or you're going to see something you don't wanna see." Matt lights a cigarette.

Once you're inside the house, there are a couple of officers scattered around. A door on one side of the room is covered in police tape. You suppose that it is the kitchen. The three men merely nod to the officers and they are let in, leaving you alone.

Why were you even brought here? You feel a sense of frustration. They tell you they have a plan, yet don't confide in you at all. It's your life on the line, you shouldn't be kept in the dark.

The officers ignore you, so you decide to explore the rest of the house. Maybe you could find your own clues. You're not a genius detective by any means, but you are confident in your own resourcefulness.

You head upstairs. Up there, there are no officers roaming about. You are free to do whatever you wish.

There are a couple bedrooms, a bathroom, and an office, nothing too exciting. Much like the exterior of this house, the interior is just as ordinary. In the bathroom there are toothpaste stains on the sink and in the bedrooms there is dirty laundry to be done. All the makings of a plain life.

Frustrated, you lay down on one of the beds, staring blankly at the bookshelf.

You feel useless.

No. It wasn't just that. You felt angry. Angry and Mello, Matt, and Near. Angry that you're in this situation. Angry that whatever your inheritance is, it'll probably be ripped from your hands. Angry at your supposed father.

As you're stewing in your anger, something catches your attention. A book on the bookcase labeled 'Inheritance Law'.

This piques your interest, especially since the book is wedged into the middle of a series. It certainly doesn't belong there.

Getting up, you pull the book out to investigate. Delicately handling the book, you flip to the first page.

Hastily scrawled on the page is a note.

DO YOU REALLY TRUST THEIR MOTIVES? I KNOW THEIR NEXT STEP. MEET ME AT MADAM ARADIA'S IF YOU WISH TO DISCUSS.

__________

You ride silently in the back of the car as you make your way back to the headquarters, the torn page from the book hidden in your back pocket.

The fact is that you aren't sure you trust Mello, Matt, and Near, but you sure as hell don't trust this mysterious Beyond Birthday either. You decide the best you can do at the moment is play both sides.

Besides, not only do you not know where this Madam Aradia's is, there is no way that Near's agents will let you leave to get there. Even with this note, your cards have already been chosen for you.

The car is oddly silent. You wonder if Beyond Birthday left them a note as well.

"Did you discover anything?" You ask.

The three seem to jump, as if you interrupted deep thoughts.

"Nothing we don't already know." Mello muttered.

"We're getting closer to finding out where he is hiding." Near tries to gives you comfort. "I promise."

You don't feel comforted.

"Why don't we go out to dinner?" Near suggests. "If only for a sense of normalcy.”

Mello grimaces, "Like I'd want to interact with you any more than needed-"

"Food sounds great." Matt interrupts from the drivers seat.

"What would you like to eat?" Near asks you. You know that he is only trying to get on your better side, but food certainly does sound good right now.

You crave something unhealthy. Lately you've been eating nothing but whatever you can throw together from the headquarters' fridge. You've had so much fruit and veggies lately that you might actually consider yourself in good health. You want to indulge.

"Get me something greasy."

Matt laughs, looking back at you from the rearview mirror. "Not one for expensive tastes, huh?" 

You shrug, deciding that you can be snarky too. "Wouldn't want to put you guys out."

Now Mello grins as well, "Oh trust me, you could never." 

"Why don't we go to Antonio's?" Matt suggests. The three seem to share a look. You don't like it.

"Yeah, I like that idea." Mello nods. "Do that."

"If you insist." Near agrees quietly.

The pizza joint you arrive at isn't exactly in a high class neighborhood. As you exit the car, a screaming match ensues down the road. You wonder why this particular restaurant was chosen. Then you wonder if this was some kind of test. 

"Go on in." Mello gestures towards the door, the three of them hang back.

So this was a test. 

You walk to the door, your head held high. You weren't going to show any fear. Still, you can feel their careful eyes piercing into you. You're not sure what they're expecting to see from you. Are you supposed to prove somehow that you're some kind of exceptional?

That was the issue. You aren't exceptional, not like them at least. 

When you enter the restaurant, the patrons pause to stare at you. Carefully, you make your way to the counter. 

As you walk, you notice an important detail. No one is eating. People are gathered at tables, yet there's no food in sight.

Was this a front?

As you get to the counter, your mind races. They didn't send you in here to get pizza, not really. The man at the counter smiles down at you as you walk up. He's big and burly. 

"What can I get for you, dear?"

You swallow. "You know my friends out there?" You nod your head towards Mello, Matt, and Near. 

"Of course." The man laughs. "Regulars of mine."

There was no way that those three were regularly coming to some random pizza joint. 

"Give me what they usually have." 

The man pauses, then nods. "Got it." He disappears into the back for a moment. You tap your foot nervously. You can still feel the eyes of all the patrons on you.

When the man returns he's holding a small paper bag. He slides it over to you. "I'll put it on their tab." 

You nod. "Thank you." Grabbing the bag, you steal a peek inside. 

It's a gun. 

You hold the bag tight as you leave. When you finally exit the store, you feel as if you can finally breathe. 

"How'd it go?" Matt asks, exhaling cigarette smoke. 

"What the fuck was that?" You demand, shoving the bag at him. "That certainly wasn't pizza!"

"You're good at thinking on your feet." Near notes. 

"I don't want to think on my feet!" You throw your hands up. "I want pizza! I want to not be scared for my life every few seconds!" 

Matt starts, "We-"

Now you're on a roll. "My life is on the line, yet I'm not even allowed to know what this plan of yours is! You treat me with child gloves, make fun of me, then throw me out to the wolves. How am I supposed to be prepared if you don't give me all the details?"

"Cut it out." Mello snaps. It startles you. "Your life isn't the only one on the line." 

"I never asked for this." Your voice trembles. "You all wanted to be these great detectives and I was just a normal person."

"But you're not." Mello's voice is low but angry. "So you're stuck with us."

"That's enough, Mello." Near says. You can tell that Near's words get under Mello's skin, but he doesn't act on them. He runs a hand through his hair, stepping back. 

"Why don't we explain our plan to you over dinner." Near's voice is calm. "For real this time."

You're at a nice restaurant this time, this time it's a burger place and the people there are actually eating food. It's a lot more comforting. As you slide into the booth, Near gets in on the other side. Matt sits down next to you, grinning as Mello reluctantly takes the seat next to Near. 

As you look over the menu, Matt leans in close to your ear. "Hey, you want to see something funny?"

You don't even have time to respond. The waitress comes over, giving a warm smile. 

"How are you folks doing today?"

Matt drapes his arm around your shoulders, "Oh just wonderful, we're actually here on a double date." 

Mello gives a withering stare.

"Yeah, it's actually their anniversary, could you do something special for it?" Matt continues. You can tell he's having a great time. Even you can't help but begin to giggle, especially at the way Mello is staring daggers at Matt.

"Oh my goodness, of course!" The waitress says, then she takes everyone's order. 

As she leaves, Mello shakes his head. "Fuck you." 

"Ah, come on man." Matt protests. Both you and Matt are full out laughing now. Near smiles slightly, but otherwise seems unfazed. "You'll probably get free desert at least."

"Let's get serious for a moment." Near interjects, lacing his fingers. "I wish to discuss our future plans."

You quickly sober up, nodding at Near.

"We want to lure Beyond Birthday to a location where we can capture him. This needs to be a place where he thinks he can easily escape, yet in reality we are able to set up a good enough perimeter so that he can be arrested." Near explains. Mello and Matt sit back, letting Near do all the work. "We've chosen a location. It's a county fair, about a half hour from the city. It has excellent fencing, yet is also an open area is easily traversed."

"A county fair?" You ask. "Wouldn't that seem a bit suspicious to him?"

"Not at all." Near answers. "We're going to play it up, act like we're merely taking a break for your mental health. You'll need to sell it though."

You slowly nod, "I can sell it." 

"You'll be a great actor. You nailed the part of my girlfriend." Matt agrees. You glance over at Mello. He says nothing. 

"Alright then." You sigh. "When are we doing this?" 

"Tomorrow.”

Later that night, you find yourself restless. Despite having to get up early tomorrow to prepare, you can't seem to get a wink of sleep. Instead, all you're doing is repeatedly turning and staring at your ceiling. After a couple hours of this, you decide to get some energy out. You dress in your workout clothes, heading down to the gym to practice your boxing again.

The hallway is dark. You struggle to make your way down the hall. As you pass the living room, you notice the dim light of a computer.

Mello sits slumped over over an array of papers and photos. He's too deep in thought notice you, even as you approach from behind. 

"Mello?" You call softly.

His head jolts up, swiveling to look at you. His icy eyes are distinguishable even in darkness.

"What are you doing?" You ask.

He shakes his head, returning to his computer. "Just finishing up some work for tomorrow."

You gesture towards the couch, "May I?" He shrugs, moving over so that you have room to sit down. 

Mello continues his work in silence, browsing through files. He reads much faster than you, so you never quite get all the information. You see photos of crime scenes, but you think he purposely avoids the photos with bodies. 

"Do you enjoy this?" You suddenly ask.

Mello seems surprised by your question, "Reading files? No, not really."

"Then why do you do this?" You stumble over your words. "Being a detective, I mean."

Mello sets down the papers he's holding. "It's not really that I enjoy the tedious work. The evidence, the chase, the late nights, they're the trees. Completing a case is the forest. The satisfaction of winning..." He takes a deep breath. "That's why I do this."

You ponder on this. "What was L like? Err, I guess, what was my father like?"

Mello's breath catches. "I admired L more than anything."

"Why?"

Mello chuckles. "He was... extraordinary. The most brilliant man I've ever met. Every day I try to be more and more like him." He sighs. "Sometimes I fear I've become more distant from him by the day."

Mello seems to realize what he just said. He straightens up, grabbing his papers. "Nevertheless, I'm not the only one who admires L highly. Near just about stole the spot of successor from me, but I'm not going to let him beat me on this. Not on something so important."

"The inheritance." You add.

"Yes."

My inheritance, you think to yourself. It was left for me.

"Hopefully by tomorrow, we can access it. Then you can go back to your peaceful, normal life." Mello says. "Probably with a large sum of money."

"You think my inheritance will just be money?"

"God, I hope not."

The next day you find yourself in front of the county fair. It's just as hokey and run down as you remember. There's a sort of nostalgia you feel for it, you remember coming here many times as a kid. However, this feeling is overpowered by intense anxiety. This is it. Beyond Birthday is going to be captured. 

Why did it feel so anticlimactic? 

You shake off this feeling. This is real life, not a story. You should feel relieved above all else. This nightmare is soon to be over. 

You, Mello, Matt, and Near walk through the entrance of the fair. The first part of the fair is all animals. There are prizewinning pigs, cows, rabbits, horses, and everything in between. Further back are all the rides and games. 

As you walk, you pass by a makeshift petting zoo. You stick your hand out for the goats to come up for pets. 

As you stroke the goat, you glance over at Matt, Mello, and Near. You wonder how the three can be so calm. Your heart is racing and you constantly scan the crowd. Anyone could be Beyond Birthday.

Taking your hand away from the goat, who snorts in annoyance, you start walking again. "Where are we going to first?"

"It doesn't really matter." Near shrugs. 

"Rides?" Matt adds.

"Rides sound good." You agree. 

The four of you head to the nearest ride. As you approach the large, spinning ride it suddenly goes upside down as well. All it's riders scream wildly. You feel your stomach flop just from looking at it. When you agreed to rides, you were thinking something like the Ferris wheel.

"What, scared?" Matt teases. 

"No." You reply quick. Too quick. You can feel them sense your weakness. There was blood in the water. 

"You're going to ride that with us, right?" Mello asks with a smile.

"Um-" 

"I'm going to sit out. I'm not much of a ride person." Near says. 

"I'll sit out with Near!" You piggyback off of Near's statement. "The ride is only two to a row anyway."

"Near will be fine by himself." Matt waves a hand. "Plus one of us can just sit with a stranger, no biggie." 

Before you can protest any more, the two throw their arms around your shoulders, leading you up to the ride. As you wait in line, you stare up at the enormous hunk of metal barely kept together by screws and duct tape.

"It's really tall, isn't it?" Mello points out. "Look at all that spinning."

"A person could throw up from something like that." Matt adds helpfully. 

You swallow, trying to ignore their taunting. The line however moves much too quickly and you are soon at the front of the line. As you board, Mello tucks into the seat next to you while Matt sits a seat ahead. 

"Listen, you're not going to throw up on me, okay?" Matt calls. 

"Don't worry, I will." You call back.

The seat shuts and locks. You're committed now. Your hands tremble as you grip the handles.

Then you're off. The ride is quick to accelerate and you're jerked every which way. You can't help but scream. You can hear Mello laughing and Matt whooping and hollering as you twist upside down. It's a dizzying feeling. 

When the ride finally stops you feel sick. Your stomach is in knots and you feel faint. You groan as you stand. Still, you had to admit, it was fun.

"See, it wasn't that bad, right?" Mello asks. You don't reply. You just want to go lay down for a moment. 

You find Near on a bench close to the ride. Wordlessly, you lay down next to him.

"I see that didn't go well." Near comments.

"She's fine." Matt rolls his eyes. "We're going to grab some food, okay?"

"Wait, why are we splitting up?" You sit up and immediately regret it as you see spots in your vision.

"Don't worry, it's safe." Mello promises. "We could anywhere inside the fair grounds and it'd be safe since the perimeter is surrounded."

"We'll be back with some corndogs." Matt gives a small wave and the two walk off. You lay down in your misery. Near plays with some sort of handheld sliding puzzle.

"How do you not get bullied into doing stuff?" You ask.

"Mello prefers my presence be elsewhere." Near answers simply.

"Oh, right." You reply.

Near answers your next question without you even having to say it. "He wishes to be better than me."

"Does Beyond Birthday wish that as well?" You ask. "Err, I mean, I figured that if he knew about the inheritance then he must have some sort of connection to you guys."

Near doesn't seem to mind your prying. "Maybe." Near pauses. "After all, Beyond was L's first successor."

You mull on this new bit of information. So the person they were facing was another of your father's successors? This complicated things even more.

Before you can ask any more questions, Mello and Matt return with corndogs and slushies. You feel well enough to sit up and slurp on the blueberry slushie they brought you.

"I guess rides are out of the picture for the meantime?" Matt asks. You nod.

"There's still carnival games." Matt says. "I bet I can beat all your asses in basketball." 

Mello shakes his head, "That's a bet you can't win." 

Next thing you know, you're watching Mello and Matt compete in basketball. Both are astoundingly quick, you guess that they weren't just superhuman in intelligence either.

The time ticks down quickly and Mello wins by a narrow margin. Matt groans, dropping the basketball as Mello grins a silent but smug victory.

"That was amazing!" You bounce. Matt gives you a lofty grin while Mello declines a prize from the carnie. 

"Where to next?" Matt asks.

Across the way, your eyes catch on a prize. It's a small, stuffed dog with soft ears and a heart shaped spot on it's back. You walk over to it.

The others follow behind you, following your gaze. 

"It's so cute." You say aloud. 

"Are you going to try to win it?" Near asks.

"Yes." You say with determination.

Matt laughs, "Come on, it's a baseball toss. There's no way you're knocking down all those jugs."

"You don't have the arm strength." Mello agrees.

You look at the carnival game. It certainly isn't your cup of tea. The jugs are way too far from the table and you've never played a game of baseball in your life. 

You slap a five dollar bill down onto the table. The worker scoffs but gives you your balls. You get four balls. 

You grab the first ball, feeling the weight in your hands. Your pitcher stance isn't great, but you mimic what you've seen on TV. 

You throw the first ball. It misses.

Behind you, you hear Matt and Mello laugh.

"You're going to have to try harder than that." Mello calls.

You take a deep breath, grabbing the next ball and trying to ignore the laughter behind you. This time, you try to aim better. 

You toss the ball, but not hard enough. It hits the jugs, but not with enough force to knock any of them over.

There's more laughter. You feel heat rise to your cheeks. The carnival worker is laughing now too. You glance over to see Matt mocking your throw. Even Near is chuckling.

"You throw like a little girl!" Matt pipes up. This brings more laughs.

You take the time to align yourself again, staring carefully at the jugs. With a swift toss, the ball is hurled. 

You knock over the top can.

You almost jump with joy over this small victory. Your heart is in your chest. There is still some chuckling, but you feel more confident now. 

You take the last ball into your palm. Everything was riding on this. You make sure to take your time.

You toss the ball.

Miss.

Laughter.

Red hot embarrassment spreads from your face to the tips of your ears and down your neck. This was awful. It was stupid that you thought that you might actually win that little plush. This was all a stupid mistake. You are just a passing amusement to these people. A joke.

You push away from the crowd, running off. You just want to be alone or perhaps just anywhere away from those people.

You slip into an alcove of the fair, hoping they don't try to find you. As you catch your breath, something else catches your eye. 

There's a small tent labeled Madam Aradia's.

It takes your mind a minute to process what you are seeing and then another minute to process the implications of this. The note Beyond Birthday had left you. You had almost forgotten about it.

You stand, slowly making your way over to tent. You pause in front of it, hesitating. 

You think of the laughter.

Pressing through, you head inside. 

To your surprise, the tent is spacious. Fairy lights give light to the dim room. A crystal ball is placed on the center of a table along with some tarot cards and sage. There's no one in sight.

"Hello?" You call, walking further in. Along the edge of the tent are bookshelves filled with jars of herbs and strange liquids. "Is anyone here?"

A head peeks out. You see wild black hair and wide eyes.

"I'm glad to finally make your acquaintance." His dead eyes are focused slightly above your head. It disturbs you. "I've been waiting to meet you for quite a while now."

"Likewise." You lie.

He laughs, but there's no smile. The hairs on your neck stand up. Maybe this was a bad idea. "I wished to discuss those men you've been putting your trust in."

"You wish for me to join your side?" You ask.

"As delightful as that would be, I don't expect as much." Beyond makes his way closer to you. You take a step back. "No, I'd much rather discuss that inheritance."

"You want it." 

He sighs. "You're focused on the wrong thing."

You puzzle over what he wants from you. "Do you... know what it is?"

"Bingo!"

"What is it?" You demand. "Money?"

"Money? How dull." He sighs. "I thought you were more creative than that."

"Stop playing games!" 

"What truly matters is that my goal isn't to get the inheritance for myself. If those three were smarter than they would've realized that my true goal is to make sure that inheritance gets to you."

"Why?" You struggle to understand. "Why go through all this then? Why does it matter if it gets to me?"

"Don't worry." He leans in. "It'll make sense when you open it."

He turns, glancing at a clock that sits on one of the bookshelves. "I better be off. But don't worry, I still have many more plans for you. This won't be the last you see of me." 

The front of the tent suddenly flies open. Mello and Matt storm in, their guns at the ready. 

"Get down!" Mello orders. You hit the floor. Guns are fired but Beyond Birthday has already slipped out of the tent. They chase after him. 

There's yelling, gunfire, and confusion. You stay in the tent, laying on the floor and covering your ears. Nothing makes sense. Eventually, the noises die down.

Matt, Mello, and Near come to get you. It's only then that you slowly stand up.

"He got away." Matt grabs at his hair. 

Mello curses, kicking over the table. The crystal ball shatters, the pieces scattering around the tent. Then, he approaches you, grabbing at your shirt and tugging you in close.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" You cower away, your bottom lip shaking. When he doesn't get a reply, he lets go, shoving something into your hands. "Whatever, let's get to the car." 

You look down at what he gave you. A small plush dog sits in your hands.

#death note #deathnote #death note fanfiction #matt death note #near death note #mello death note #mello x you #mello x reader #l death note #stolen #fanfic #mello fanfiction #mihael keehl #slow burn #pov second person

[hopelesswrites]

Hopelessly Devoted - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

(This ones for my overthinking anxious girlies, you are valid and Eddie loves you)

Description: You decide to dye your hair to make Eddie like you

Disclaimer!!: DO NOT CHANGE YOUR SELF FOR NO FUCKING MAN

You had been best friends with Eddie since you could remember. Honestly, it felt like your life didn’t properly start until the day you met the boy. You had transferred schools halfway through the year and had to repeat your grade, leaving Eddie to be a year above you, that was until the end of his first senior year where he decided to fail. He said he just didn’t like school, but you suspect he wanted to repeat and be in senior year with you, something you teased him about profusely.

He approached you that first day while you sat alone reading a copy of Lord of The Rings. He wouldn’t stop talking about the book to you, spoiling the ending that same day. Ever since you two had been inseparable, well mostly inseparable. Eddie was always hyper fixated on girls, you had found a couple dirty mags under his bed, you knew he was a horny guy. So, when he told you about hooking up with a girl behind the bleachers in the school gymnasium, you were far from surprised, but it was that day you felt like you started to lose the boy you had grown to love, as he was always preoccupied with another lady he had met.

Every sexual encounter Eddie had, he shared with you the gritty details, that was just the kind of friendship you had. Each girl being just another casual one-night stand, these ones didn’t hurt you too much.

But when Eddie first mentioned Her, that shattered you. The light in his eyes, the way he was smiling describing the girl. She sounded incredible. Long burgundy hair, soft ivory skin, dark makeup, dressed in the same distressed attire Eddie adorned, she was perfect for him, and it was heartbreaking.

You were almost certain he was in love; he had met her at the bar he played at every week, she was a year, or two older, big metal fan and Eddie was down bad.

You hoped she didn’t reciprocate the same feelings but when Eddie came back with the story of the heated night, he had with her you knew you no longer stood any chance, he was gone, lost to the beautiful girl that could offer him so much more than you could.

You felt plain, boring, and completely insignificant with him, you didn’t even deserve to be his friend. You didn’t like his music all that much, you didn’t smoke, and you still couldn’t wrap your head around the rules of D&d.

Although feeling this way, you still couldn’t fight the urge to be just like her, in hopes you would catch Eddies eye instead, that he would finally notice you as a beautiful woman and fall in love with you.

So, you decided you would dye your plain brown hair a dark black colour, it was sure to catch Eddies attention. You went to the cosmetics store after school grabbed the dye and made your way to Eddies place, where he had already agreed to help you dye your hair, not without questioning your reasoning behind it.

“I just want a change” You explained that day in school.

He greeted you at the door and moved aside to let you enter. You both had made your way to the small bathroom where Eddie sat you down on the toilet seat and began reading the dye instructions.

“Are you sure about this?’ Eddie asked as he secured the gloves around his hands and pulled out the rest of the box’s contents.

“Yeah, this brown hair has to go” you said confidently, trying to ignore the unsure look on Eddies face. He was mixing the liquid now as instructed, looking you in the eyes.

“It just doesn’t seem like you” at this you frowned, why was he making it so difficult, it was as if he hated the idea of you dying your hair black. All the rock chicks in his magazines had dark hair like this, why couldn’t you?

“Don’t you like black hair?” You questioned, wanting Eddie to be honest, after all you were doing this for him.

“I mean sure I do, but I don’t think it will suit you” Eddie answered. Your heart sank, tears already pricking at your eyes, this wont make him love you, this wont change anything. You felt stupid and ashamed that you had even tried to change yourself for a man.

“Hey” Eddie said softly, noticing your change in mood. “Sweetie don’t be upset” he said, using the nickname that normal sent shivers through your body. “If you want to I’ll do it, but I don’t understand where this is coming from, why do you want to change?”

Eddie had put the equipment down now, looking up at you from his crouched position on the floor.

“I thought you liked girls with dark hair” you said feeling pathetic, your eyes never leaving your shoes. You didn’t want to see his face as it put the pieces together, figuring out the hopeless crush you had on him and the lengths you were willing to take for him to like you back.

“Oh” Was all he said, silence filling the air around you. There was shuffling coming from Eddie before you felt his present right above you, his hands coming to cup your face, pulling your head up to look at him, The force of his grip squishing your cheeks just a bit, the thought of looking silly in front of him invading your mind but his grip was too strong for you to pull out of.

“I like your hair” he said simply. “I like the colour, I like the length, I like the way it looks when you tie it up all messy, I like the way it smells when you’ve freshly washed it, I like it all”

You took in his words, searching his face for any sign of a lie, there was none of course, Eddie was always truthful with you.

“And most of all, I like you, just the way you are, don’t try to change yourself because of a narrative you’ve made up in that overactive little head of yours, okay?” He said this sternly, it had you taken aback. Sure, Eddie was always honest with you, but he had never been so serious, it felt almost suffocating.

“I-uh, I don’t understand” You stuttered, he had never complimented you like this, never so much as looked you in the eyes, now you couldn’t escape his intense eye contact as he still held your head up firmly.

“God you’re so clueless” Eddie huffed rolling his eyes before leaning in and placing a firm kiss on your lips. It didn’t last more than 2 seconds but it had your mind going haywire, Eddie had just kissed you, his lips on your lips.

“Get it now?” he asked, a smirk on his face.

“Yeah, I think so” you answered, still stunned but much more at peace than the last 5 years of your friendship. There were so many things to discuss with your best friend, you had so many questions, you definitely want to scrap the hair dying and kiss him again, but at this moment you were content with what you knew. Eddie like your hair, he liked you, and he kissed you.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie #Munson #Stranger Things #stranger thing Eddie #ST4 #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson blurb #Eddie Munson fanfic

[originalnovelist]

Vain

INVOLVED: Samuel Evans and Rebecca Evans. LOCATION: Cleveland Clinic; Cleveland, Ohio. TIME FRAME: - NOTES: Rebecca decides Samuel’s fate. 

Rebecca gazed at her brother as he lay there, she had so many emotions whirling inside of her she felt like she was going to explode. Begging him to wake proved futile, her hope had died long ago, and now she was just all around exhausted. Defeated moreso. She exhaled looking around the white room, her mother had left to grab herself a bite. She hadn’t been in the room alone with him since he entered the hospital. She didn’t want to be honestly; it was entirely too surreal. What if his heart had given way while she was sitting in the chair beside him, she might as well have die too she wouldn’t be able to handle that. No matter the person, another body in the room had managed to give her a little comfort during the ordeal. 

“How could you leave her everything?” she finally spoke, she looked back at Samuel. She could hear his remark, like a knife cutting ice he would have torn into her. But right now, he couldn’t. He was unable to attack them in his normal beastly manner in this state, it was unfamiliar to her. She almost longed for him to curse her out. “She doesn’t even love you, she never did. She never will” the bitter woman spoke. “She’s in this room crying over you, laying at your side pretending that she isn’t the fucking reason you are laying right there right now. I hate the idea of her, of you letting her back in. I begged you not to. I forbade you to and you did it anyway” she said clutching her fist. “And now you are going to leave her all of it?” she asked him. 

“You didn't even have the balls to tell me yourself you went to your accountant and your lawyers and you handled it all. Weeks ago” she yelled, putting emphasis on the news she’d gotten mere days ago. “You have it all mapped, the money you are dispersing between the six kids. The royalties of the books! Your funeral Sam?” she said in disgust. “You planned the entire thing, flowers, music, colors” she listed on her fingers. “I am fighting for your life and you ending yours” she confronted. “This is about around the time you’d tell me it doesn’t have anything to do with her right, but it does. You can’t have her the way you want her so what, you don't want to be here at all?” she asked him. “You are selfish as hell for that, casting aside everybody who really loves you who needs you here for one bitch” she spat. 

“An inferior bitch” she added as she got up from her chair, she ran her hands through her greasy chair. She was lacking in the self care department but that was a sacrifice she would make for him. “Here I am trying to get these people to do everything they can for you” she told him, standing at the foot of his bed. “Your whole life I’ve been trying to protect you, help you, save you and you won’t even save yourself” she barked. “Get up!” she commanded “face me” she told him irritatedly. “Tell me to my face everything I’ve done; all the studying, all the crying, all the praying was in VAIN!” she argued. 

“You are improving, they have done everything they could for you” Rebecca told him. “I can’t think of anything else and I am tired, I don’t want to think anymore. I want you to get up. But you aren’t right?” she asked him. “This is it. That is what you are saying to me, to us. The book spelled it out quite clearly, you are ready to go and right now we are selfishly keeping you here, on this fucking machine…. wasting away anyway….” she turned her head away from him. She wiped a few of her tears, her head shaking as she pushed off his bed. “Alright” she said, a chuckle leaving her, the sound leaving her mouth morphing into a cry. “You win” she said to him “I won’t fight you on it, I am going to give you what you want. You left me a road map…. We will go from there…”

#thread: vain #samcedes rp

[the-butch-of-blaviken]

@poetikat i made a mistake and lost your ask but you'd asked me about Yennefer for the character ask meme!

First of all, thank you for the ask <33

my general perception of them

I'm in love with her. Morally gray, iconic behavior, terrible taste in men, problematic fav. She's a profoundly human character, full of contradictions: so scarred and traumatized yet so strong and so driven, ready to risk and sacrifice so much to get what she wants and protect those she loves; desperate to be loved yet running away whenever she feels she's getting too close to anyone; seeking meaningful connections to others yet so scared to be emotionally vulnerable with anyone. I especially love the fact that a significant part of her character is about making certain decisions then deciding “actually no, this isn’t what i wanted, how can i make this right for me” without being made fun of or condemned for it by the author. I don’t recall many female characters being granted the same liberty. She gets to make questionable and selfish choices, she gets to change her mind and backtrack, she gets to be emotionally messy. Her entire character arc is about unapologetically being who she is without conforming to anyone’s expectations, as a sorceress (her position in regards to the Lodge and other mages), as a mother and as a woman. She’s such a great female character and to this day i’m still surprised Sapko managed not to fuck her up.

an unpopular opinion or, failing that, a fun fact

I know Yennefer fans have been saying this a lot but it bears repeating: i’m Tired of seeing her portrayed as a harsh, heartless bad bitch. If you can stan Geralt being an emotionally constipated mess who is terrible at communication and sometimes makes bad decisions that hurt the people around him, you can stan her as well, it’s not that hard (and besides, they’re pretty much narrative mirrors of each other). I’m convinced CDPR made her particularly harsh and mean to Geralt in TW3 because they knew otherwise Triss wouldn’t stand a single chance as a romantic interest, and apparently someone important at CDPR is Very partial to Triss.

music i associate with them (if any)

I’m on a Florence + The Machine roll these days so my first thought is “No Choir” from High as Hope: i’m thinking about the TW3 ending where she and Geralt finally get their happily ever after in a small cottage, no longer a sorceress and a witcher but two ordinary people sharing a simple, quiet happiness until the end of their days; no more grand romantic gestures, no more sacrificing for the other in the name of love, like Dandelion’s ballads would want, but two people sitting in a room by the fire, simply sharing the same space. A part of me knows this is a fantasy because (at least in the books), their love is fundamentally tragic and self-destructive and they love each other the most when they’re apart, but one can’t help hoping.

if I feel (spiritually) like I could beat them in a fight

Even if i could, i wouldn’t dare win a fight against Yennefer. The consequences for me would be dire

#thanks again for the ask! <3 #and sorry for the late reply

[basilships]

AGH this is funny because Eric is my bitter beloathed and Faramir is my sweetest angel

under the cut, eric in this post + Faramir in the reblog

Eric is from True Blood, which is an adaptation of the southern vampire mystery or sookie stackhouse novels, both of which focus on Sookie's relationships with humanity and vampires (and more!) as a telepathic woman. who is blonde. the show is FAR better than the books, i know because i read the first two books, and that's a whole different issue that i won't touch right now, but they're okay. that's it. just okay. the show is VERY GOOD and i greatly enjoyed it despite it's issues. anyway

Eric Northman is a vampire who was turned as a viking a thousand years ago (and you're like what! you already have one thousand year old vampire f/o! yeah, i have a type, i don't know what to tell you) and he's... a lot. he's petty, he's sadistic, he's selfish, he's egotistical, he's an asshole, but he's very smart, and he's very clever, he's unbelievably strong and incredibly devoted to the things he is devoted to. in my defense, he was one of Sookie's love interests, so he's kind of made to be the mean bad boy type that's all about the darker side of vampirism, whereas her main love interest is the good side of it. it's a lot. anyway

he owns a vampire themed vampire bar in Louisiana, called Fangtasia. I love it and i hate it. he works with his bestie slash former lover slash progeny Pam, who fucking rules and serves cunt every day of the fuckin week. more about Pam later. he's the Sheriff of Area 5, which basically means he's in charge and all of the vampires in a certain area answer to him, and that's intimidating for a few seasons, and then you find out there's actually a fuck ton of people above him that make him a lot less intimidating, but he's like 6'4 and a THOUSAND years old and has plot armor so he's still really intimidating and sexy. he's kind of a boring white guy but you get to see his butt, so.

my self insert is named Matty and probably has a surname but i don't care right now. later on, you find out Sookie is a fairy (yeah, I don't... have a good explanation for that, it plays out pretty much how you expect, but yeah she's part fae) and that's where her telepathy comes from. so Matty is also part fae, meaning vampires are more attracted to his blood and he's got some magic in him, but he's not magical enough to read minds. i think i gave him vague intuition or something, he's still sort of magical and it gives me an excuse to make he and Sookie besties. he's an artist in Chicago working a string of shitty jobs even though, once he meets Eric, Eric keeps telling him he could pull string to get Matty into a better job. Matty hates that.

Matty kind of hates Eric until he loves him, and Eric kind of hates Matty until he loves him. they're toxic yaoi, i don't have excuse for it, they suck but they're endgame. like, both of you are assholes, don't ever get anyone else involved in whatever this is. they need each other. Matty is the one person who can stand up to Eric, and Eric is the one person who challenges Matty and can give him a sense of escape from his life. same thing Bill does for Sookie, but homoerotic and worse. they both push each other, they both help each other, they would die for each other but also not really, because they firmly believe they'd be able to prevent that. i don't have anything smart to say about them besides they're sexyyyy. i could post so much bullshit about them because i'm hilarious. not yet tho

#ask #do they have tags. i don't know. will edit later #tex-treasures #a little blood in my wine #that's the eric/matty tag

[henriettasyarn]

The Scientific Method Turning Thirty: Chapter One - Part Three of Three, by @henriettasyarn

According to the internet, there are generally seven steps to the scientific method: 1. Discern the burning question, 2. Research said question, 3. Determine a hypothesis to answer said question, 4. Test your hypothesis, 5. Analyze the results, 6. Form your conclusion, and 7. Communication. In 2008, when I was in ninth grade, I distinctly remember there only being five steps. The research in step two came before the method. This implication promoted unhealthy perfectionism for those of us who struggled with executive dysfunction. Your burning question has to be perfectly tailored before you can even start your method. There’s no room for change after you begin; you must know exactly what you want to discover in your project before it even begins. Of course, this isn’t true, nor has it ever been true; it's just the story I told myself. Regardless of the order or number of steps in the scientific method, for a 14 year-old girl with undiagnosed ADHD, my story was the gospel truth.

            I recently read a book called “There Are No Grown-Ups,” by Pamela Druckerman. I came across her work after reading her debut title, “Bringing Up Bébé,” during my second round of motherhood hyper-fixation. I love her writing style. It’s research based, yet forgiving. It’s personal, yet experimental with serious topics cloaked in everyday humor. Druckerman’s work is methodical and I could relate, even as a decade off from the targeted audience. Upon completion, I immediately started looking for similar titles made specifically for thirty-somethings. I was left wanting. According to the numerous podcasts and self-help titles for our demographic, we are unsatisfied, paralyzed with anxiety and need constant uplifting, radically optimistic,  reminders that our lives are not coming to an end. The cyclical theme of thirty-something literature and media is, “you’ve got plenty of time!” God forbid a newly ordained thirty year old expresses any sort of regret over their current accomplishments in front of a forty-plus-er. Scoffing will undoubtedly ensue.

            The world of thirty-something-coming-of-age-not-so-midlife advice is frustrating and dishonest, to put it simply. I listened to a podcast this past week that was formed as a new kind of community for thirty-something girlies. It’s mission statement is, “to help those in their late twenties and thirties break free from what society says turning 30 should look like, accept where they are and to feel empowered to take positive steps forward at this pivotal time.” It sounds good, right? It sounds real, I think. The album cover is a picture of the host, a cute, tanned blondie, who just heard the most hilarious joke of her life, standing in front of a rustic, wood paneled wall. She is doing great and I’m happy for her, so please don’t misconstrue my criticism as fellow female bashing. This woman speaks with confidence and poise. She is helping many women overcome the struggle and doom of thirty-hood and she is very clearly a boss-bitch. I started with the most recent episode and turned it off after twenty minutes. It was the same fucking bullshit I hear all of the time; Nikki was so sad because she was single and didn’t think she would be able to fulfill her lifelong dream of becoming a mother. Finally, after a maximum of eighteen months of desolation, Nikki takes control of her life by freezing her eggs and traveling to Bali to rediscover herself. However, within two years from the lowest point in Nikki’s life, she is married and has a baby. Wow! You never know what’s around the corner! So, girls, don’t get discouraged, prince charming will be waiting for you after you finally make the decision to be a strong, independent woman.

            What a load of horse shit. Nikki has a story to tell, but this is not the one that I need to hear, this is vomit inducing. I want to hear how she maintained, or did not maintain, her independence after meeting her new spouse. I want to know why she immediately jumped in to having a baby as soon as she met this guy. After all, what was the rush? She just froze her eggs and got out of a very serious, long-term relationship that caused her to hit rock-bottom, so was that just erased from her consciousness the moment she met a guy willing and able to impregnate her? Was it an accidental pregnancy? And if it was….was it really?? My assumption is that she never really became a strong independent woman, content with the possibility of intentional single motherhood. I think she was coping with her sadness over unfulfilled expectations, and independence was the only way through. She was let down and grieving a life she thought she had — a life she still wanted and never truly moved on from. That’s the story I want to hear. I want to hear about Nikki’s reconciliation journey and about the intense relief she felt when she met her now husband. I don’t want to hear the, “you never know what’s around the corner, keep that chin up, girl!” story. It’s exhausting and photoshopped.

            My sister-in-law, Janelle, got divorced in 2020. In 2018, her first husband, John, underwent major weight-loss after learning of his status as a type-2 diabetic at the ripe age of twenty-nine. It was a wake-up call for him. He started exercising and eating healthy. For reference, John was nearly 400 lbs when he started turning his life around. By the time they divorced, John was closer to 200 lbs and had a new-found confidence that none of us had ever seen. I’ve never heard the story directly from John, but, allegedly, he met, and started a relationship with a girl from his hometown in Pennsylvania while playing online video games. In 2019, instead of spending Christmas with his wife, John lied and said he needed to go home to his family, when in reality, he was visiting the gamer girl. John came home to divorce papers. Several months after the divorce was finalized, as Janelle was becoming a strong independent woman and ignoring her deep, clinical depression, Sprinkles shared some encouraging words. She said, “Janelle, you never know what could happen. This time next year you could be remarried and pregnant, don’t get discouraged.” And guess what? By that time the following year, Janelle was pregnant and engaged. It was a miracle. Thank God she didn’t have to enter her thirties as a childless spinster, oh the horror.

            This is the story she tells; she shares the story of her miracle soul-mate and surprise baby boy. Is she happy, though? I don’t know, I can’t tell. Did she overcome the inner-demons and personality faults she discovered during her divorce that drove her into a deep depression? If she did, is that the reason she had the clarity to know that her new husband was the right man for her? Or, like Nikki, was she overcome with relief the moment she met someone that was able and ready to impregnate her and get her life back on the right track? Neither story is inherently wrong. Somewhere, in the depths of the life-stories we tell ourselves and others, is the truth. I am not interested in waiting until I’m forty to be comfortable with the truth.

            In her “Midlife Coming of Age Story,” Druckerman wraps each chapter with a Jeff Foxworthy-esque social commentary, predicating to aptly coined phrase: “You know you’re in your forties when…”. Some traits and tidbits are practical, like “You know you’re in your forties when…hardly anyone you meet is twice your age,” or “the only songs you know all the words to are at least twenty years old.” While others are full of wisdom, only learned through lived experience, like: “You know you’re in your forties when…you are capable of listening without judgment,” or “when you recount how someone has wronged you, you now add, this is from my perspective, of course,” and, “You no longer accept one sided accounts of relationship agonies or obediently validate friends’ stories.” The most poignant in my life, however, is: “You know you’re in your forties when you stop blaming your parents for all of your problems.” The commonality between these trivial and profound realizations is knowledge of self. It’s general awareness. There is truth in the story. I don’t want a decades’ long bandage that constantly reminds me to wait for what’s just around the corner. I want awareness and peace. I want harmony and joy. I want to find my unapologetic self now.

#chapteroneparthree #henriettasyarn #author #female writers #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #writerscommunity #evangelism #divorce #turningthirty #thirty #pentecostal #episcopalian #toxic christianity #original post #original work #original story

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Heeey! Can I request for the Father of Mine universe? Something along the lines of hickeys, maybe smeared lipstick all over their faces at an event, family dinner or something like that?

“Just skip it and stay here with me,” Jason offered as he leaned against the bathroom frame, shirtless and with his arms crossed.

He had been watching Y/N get ready for at least 15 minutes.

She was currently putting on blood red lipstick that went perfectly with her black winged eyeliner.

Jason wasn’t a big lipstick guy – mostly because it prevented him from kissing his girlfriend the way he wanted to. But he couldn’t deny that it looked incredibly sexy.

“I can’t. I promised Bruce,” Y/N explained as she looked at him through the mirror.

“There will always be other charity events,” he answered with a roll of his eyes.

But he’d had enough of keeping his distance and wrapped his arms around her from behind. He started peppering kisses on her shoulders since her dress was leaving the skin completely exposed and he just couldn’t help himself.

“You know,” she began, “you could always come with me.”

Jason stopped his kissing.

“Guess that’s a no?” Y/N sighed with a shy grin.

But she didn’t really care.

Y/N understood that Jason hated these events. To be honest, she might hate them just as much. But Bruce kept asking her and she tried to go when she could. Sometimes she needed breaks and her father understood that.

Jason ignored her question and his hands started roaming heatedly across her body.

“Don’t even think about it,” Y/N warned, immediately pushing him away.

“What? I didn’t do anything,” Jason laughed innocently.

“Not yet,” she spun around and pointed at him. “But you were going to!”

“And is that so bad?” He asked with a crooked smirk.

“It is when I’m running late. And the reason I’m late is because you couldn’t keep your hands off of me an hour ago.”

Jason tilted his head and narrowed his eyes playfully. “I didn’t exactly hear any complaints…”

Y/N couldn’t stop herself from laughing and shook her head.

No, there had definitely been absolutely no complaints from her.

“I won’t be there long,” Y/N promised.

Then she brushed past him and walked into the giant walk-in closet.

Barely even glancing at all the shoes, she grabbed a pair that matched her dress.

“Can we order pizza or something when I get back? I’ll be starving.” Y/N asked mindlessly as she slipped the shoes on, using the wall to balance herself.

Jason didn’t even realize he was staring.

But how could he not?

The dress was simple. Just a little black dress. It was a charity event after all. But it fit Y/N like a glove, hugging her in all the right places.

Her heels were at least 4 inches, putting her eye level with Jason – if not a tiny bit taller. She would be above the majority of men at the event, except for probably a small handful.

“What?” Y/N asked self consciously. “Too tall?”

“No such fucking thing,” Jason quickly answered.

Y/N usually wasn’t self conscious about her height. She kind of had to get over that back in high school when she was taller than most of the boys in her grade.

But that didn’t mean she completely stopped having slip-ups. Slip-ups that involved questioning her heels or outfit.

Thankfully, Jason was quick to remedy such situations.

“You just look so beautiful,” Jason added as he stepped forward and grabbed her hips possessively.

Y/N kissed him. “Thank you.”

But she opened her mouth to give another warning.

“You’re gonna be late,” Jason spoke for her. “I know. I know.”

Y/N tried not to laugh at her boyfriends desperation as she grabbed her clutch.

“Remember: pizza!” Y/N called over her shoulder as she walked out the door.

————

Bruce and Damian were waiting for Y/N at the venue.

Dick and Tim skipped, going to these things less and less as they became fully grown men with lives of their own.

“Thank you for coming,” Bruce greeted as he kissed her on the cheek.

Y/N was about to turn her attention to Damian and give him a hug.

“What the hell is on your neck!?” The boy cried out before she could.

She blinked in surprise, completely unaware of what her half brother was talking about. Self-consciously, her hand went to the sides of her neck, not sure what she should be hiding.

“Can Todd not keep his hands to himself for 30 seconds?” Damian growled.

That’s when it clicked.

Y/N had a hickey on her neck.

“Damian, lower your voice,” Bruce warned his son.

Meanwhile, Y/N started feeling hot from embarrassment.

“Father, make him stop,” Damian whined.

To her surprise, Bruce cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Damian, Y/N is a grown woman in a relationship. She can do as she pleases.”

It was the right answer, but Y/N was still sweating from the embarrassment.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she quickly mumbled, before disappearing to the nearest bathroom.

But Y/N swore she heard Bruce continuing to scold Damian for his rudeness and for embarrassing her.

When she reached the bathroom, she lifted her head to see that she very much did have a hickey on her neck. It was perfectly hidden in the shadow of her jaw, which was why she hadn’t noticed it while getting ready. If she had, she would’ve put 5 layers of makeup on it to make sure her family didn’t notice.

Thankfully, she brought some cover up with her and quickly started going to work.

After 10 minutes, it was invisible and Y/N let out a sigh of relief.

She pulled out her cellphone, glaring at it as if were her boyfriend.

“You better start behaving. Damian and Bruce just found a hickey on my neck. I’m so fucking embarrassed,” Y/N texted to Jason.

“Who cares?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. Of course he’d answer with that.

“Call me old fashioned, but I’d prefer not remind my father and younger brother that I do in fact have a sex life.”

“A healthy, satisfied, and passionate sex life *,” Jason corrected.

Before she could respond, he texted again with, “Did you cover it up?”

“Obviously.”

“What a shame. Maybe it would’ve kept the spoiled rich boys away from you.”

“You’re on thin ice, Jason Todd.”

“Ooo. I love it when you use the full name. Gets me all hot and bothered.”

Y/N sighed and tossed her phone back into her clutch.

She’d given up on making Jason feel any bit of sympathy. That man would never feel guilty about showing the world how obsessed he was with her.

—————

Jason was reading on the couch when Y/N returned home.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greeted before returning to reading his book.

“Ugh. I drank too much champagne. I have the worst headache.”

“I’ll order some pizza,” Jason offered and pulled out his phone.

Y/N sighed in relief when she took off her heels and then she collapsed on the couch, laying her head on Jason’s lap as he placed their order.

Without thinking, his free hand when to her head and started massaging it, hoping it would help with her migraine.

“Hmm,” she hummed with her eyes closed. “That feels better.”

“Order has been placed,” he confirmed.

“Thank you.”

“Arrives in 30 minutes.”

She didn’t say anything, knowing exactly where he was going with it.

“What could we possibly do with 30 minutes?” Jason teased as he inched closer to her face.

She opened her eyes and giggled up at him.

“Ya know, I heard that sex helps cure migraines…”

“Does not!” Y/N yelled out.

Before she could argue with him further, his lips shut her up real quick.

For as large as Jason was, he managed to maneuver his body very gracefully, until he was hovering above Y/N while she lay comfortably on the couch.

“You look beautiful with lipstick,” Jason said it as if it was law. “But I like it even more when I ruin it,” he added with an almost evil smirk.

It was hard for Y/N to have a clever quip when he said things like that to her.

“How about I mark you up even more?” He threatened.

“Jason…” she warned.

But they both knew Y/N was pretending to be annoyed by it – or against it. When in reality, she kind of loved how obsessed Jason was with the idea.

Just when Jason hiked Y/N's dress up and was tracing her legs, someone cleared their throat.

Jason squeezed his eyes shut in frustration and actually growled. Then he quickly lowered Y/N’s dress and tried to make her modest again.

Y/N covered her face and groaned. “Please, please, please tell me Bruce is not standing at the window right now.”

Jason smirked. “And Damian.”

Y/N pushed her boyfriend off of her and sat up to face them.

There stood Batman and Robin.

Tonight was just not her night.

“You have lipstick smeared all over you,” Damian pointed out to Jason smugly.

“I’d say one day you’d see the appeal, but I’m struggling to imagine anyone ever having that kind of interest in you,” Jason shot back.

“Jason!” Y/N scolded in a yell.

Then she quickly turned to Damian with a sympathetic look, “Dami, he didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah, I did,” Jason corrected. “What do you guys want?”

“Red Robin is missing,” Bruce stated darkly.

“So…go find him,” Jason replied.

“We need your help,” Bruce clarified.

Jason groaned and rubbed his face. “Fine. But we’re setting some fucking ground rules from now on. I’m sick of you guys invading our personal space. We have a door for a reason. Use it.”

Bruce just nodded.

Then he looked down at Damian and with a glare, got him to nod, too.

“I gotta change,” Jason told them, annoyance clear in his voice.

Y/N followed him into their bedroom, to give them a moment of privacy.

“You don’t have to be so rude,” Y/N sighed as she sat on the edge of their bed.

“They spent all night with you and now they have the balls to interrupt?” Jason shot back. “And I want my damn pizza.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at him. “I promise I’ll save you some.”

Jason was in his full gear now, Red Hood helmet tucked under his arm.

He took in a deep breath, tension easing off of him as he saw how cute she was looking up from the bed at him. Her lipstick was half off her lips, but she still looked beautiful.

“Promise you’ll be careful,” her tone was nothing but serious.

“Don’t worry about me,” Jason dismissed as he leaned down at kissed her.

"And be nice to Damian."

"Never."

Jason went back to the living room where Bruce and Damian waited.

“You might want to rub some of that off,” Bruce mumbled as he turned and jumped on the window.

Jason glared at Batman’s back as he reluctantly rubbed Y/N’s lipstick off his mouth with his gloved hand.

Then he looked at Damian. “Say another word about it and I'll skin you alive.”

Damian gave him a dirty look, “I’m not scared of you.”

–––––––––

Let me know if you liked it!!!

#father of mine #father of mine bonus content #Jason Todd x reader #jason todd x tall!reader #Bruce Wayne x daughter #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #damian wayne x sister!reader #damian wayne x sister #batboys #batfam

[erodasfishtacos]

The Brits Dilemma

” Prompt: Harry & Y/N go to the Brits. It’s the first time they’ve been away from their baby. Y/N is struggling but doesn’t want to ruin the night for her husband.

Word Count: 1.8 k +

Warnings: Depictions of breastfeeding

+++++++

The award show was going well. It was the first time Y/N had been out in nearly three months besides a few brunch dates and grocery shopping.

Usually, she was pretty confident in what she wore to accompany her husband to all of these flashy events - but not tonight.

Her bump had deflated but she was still attempting to get rid of the stubborn pouch that stayed after the baby had been born. It wasn’t anything out of the norm - just still trying to lose it.

She was breastfeeding and her breasts were much larger than before. They felt heavy and too big for her body. Not to mention, they were constantly swollen and achey. Pads were a must so she doesn’t leak through the tight satin black dress.

The dress was a beautiful custom design by Gucci that complimented Harry’s sharp suit but nothing felt right. It was digging into her sides and made it hard for her to sit on her chair.

The Brits were held in the O2 Arena which wasn’t very far from their London home but she felt like she was lightyears away from her baby. Even though she knew Sasha was in good hands with Anne.

Y/N was so proud of Harry for being up for five - yes, five different awards. It was a record for him and she didn’t want to let him down by complaining. It was his night. He’s been such a devote father - he deserved a break too.

So she swallowed down the anxiety she was feeling about being away from their little newborn for the night along with her worries about her changing body.

There was milling about between the tables before the show got started. Harry had people coming up him constantly - congratulating him on the album, the nominations, the baby.

Married life and fatherhood suited him well. A dazzling wedding band on his left ring finger, a necklace with an S for his daughter, along with her name freshly inked on right above his butterfly tattoo.

The open jacket he wore with is his barely buttoned dress shirt displayed it proudly. It was beautiful, done delicately in a timeless cursive. The font match his wife name that was tattooed on his hand.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t excited to have a night out with his wife. He had Jeff booked a hotel for the night to have some alone time with you while his mum got to enjoy a night with her only grandchild.

Y/N was counting down the hours up until tomorrow when she could go home to see her baby. She should really tell Harry that she wants to go home and not out to a club and the hotel.

But the it just slowly starts to deteriorate further when a bald, plump business exec comes to greet the two of you. He gives his warm wishes about the birth of your child before smiling at Y/N and stating, “The baby weight will come off soon enough.”

Her throat closes up a bit and she self-consciously tries to push her chair closer to the table. It was the last thing that she needed to hear. Confirming all of her worst insecurities.

Harry glares at the man before turning to his wife, “Hey, you look s’perfect, my love. I’m so bloody lucky you’re mine.”

He’s truly trying his hardest to bring a smile to her face but he notices it’s never quite meeting her eyes. 

It get even worse when Harry gets his first award, male solo artist of the year. 

As she’s standing and clapping for him - she realizes she’s beginning to leak through her nipple inserts.

Y/N excuses herself in the middle of his acceptance speech to rush through the string of tables - out into the corridor. The last thing she wanted to do was for it to show up on a very expensive dress.

The echo of his voice can still be heard, “Love to thank my beautiful wife who makes writing sappy love songs easy and was the main inspiration for my recent album. She also just gave birth to our beautiful baby.....”

She feels awful when she tunes him out, finding the bathroom and hurriedly rushing in. There’s a gorgeous woman standing at the sink, washing their hands. 

Fucking Taylor Swift.

Any other time it’d be awkward and uncomfortable - running into an ex who wrote multiple songs about her husband.

But she couldn’t careless right now, “Hi, erm, this is really weird but could you unzip my dress? I’m leaking and - shit that was way too much information.”

But Taylor smiles kindly, “No! It’s okay, totally. No worries. Congratulations on your baby - you look so hot tonight.”

Y/N laughs and thanks her for unzipping the dress before going into a stall and locking the door. She slides her bra straps off her shoulders and disposes of the soaked pad in the sanitary bin.

Luckily, she has a clean burp rag that she gently swipes at her breast - wincing as it brushes against her swollen nipples. Even the soft fabric felt too rough on them.

It’s a minute or two before the bathroom door swings open, “Y/N? Lovie? Are you in ‘ere?”

She feels guilt at the panic in his voice. Managing to croak out, “I’m in here,” before leaning forward to unlock the door.

Harry waste no time in sliding into the stall before latching the lock again. Taking in the sight of his wife in front of him.

“I-I started leaking, M’sorry,” Y/N whispers, she has no reason to feel embarrassed but she is. “I missed your speech.”

“None of that, baby. I’ll give more speeches for you to hear - I only care that you’re okay. I’m sorry y’leakin, lemme help you, pet.”

In true Harry fashion, he takes the rag and turns on the sink - running it under warm water before carefully cleaning his wife up.

“Are they botherin’ you? They look irritated and super swollen, darling,” Harry frowns, a very gentle thumb coming to brush against her nipple. Then cupping her swollen breast in his hand, thumb rubbing at the pink skin.

“Just a little bit,” She lies, they’re absolutely on fire with chafing and skin irritation from the bra she’s wearing. She never thought she’d miss her nursing bras and sports bras this much.

He nods and helps place new inserts in her bra. Who’d think this is what Harry would be doing between accepting awards. Everyone unassuming in the arena.

**

Harry has been four for four thus far into the ceremony. They’d only had him go up and give two acceptance speeches. His hand firmly planted on his wife’s thigh throughout. 

When he went up for his second award, the camera zooms in and the crowd coos are he plants a kiss on his wife’s lips before pulling her into a hug - whispering something into her ear the audience can’t hear.

He was much more focused on his wife. He could read her fairly well - he’d like to think. Enough to know she’s having much fun. But he didn’t want to bring it up and make her feel bad.

Harry sees the way she keeps adjusting her bra, fidgets with his rings when his hands in his lap, and not even really looking up while one of her favorite artist - Dua Lipa -performs.

Y/N loved a good party before the baby. So Harry was hoping going to the Brits afterparty would make her feel better and then going back to their hotel room for a some alone time.

**

Y/N has been increasingly quiet when they’re exiting the arena after the final award artist of the year - which Harry had also won.

He was on cloud nine and admittedly a little distracted as he joked and laughed with a small group of friends on the way out. 

“Alright, should we all just pile into a cab for the ride to the party?” Nick Grimshaw asks everyone.

Everyone is in agreement - including Harry -as he calls to order one - standing in the blocked off area away from fans and paparazzi.

Y/N wants to tell him she wants to go home to Sasha but when she hears him say, “Can’t wait to get to Exhibit - haven’t been there in forever. One of my favorite clubs.”

She bites her tongue. Harry is enjoying his night out - why can’t she?

In the taxi, she’s sat on Harry’s lap as they make their way to the club. His one hand is on her inner thigh and the other is on her waist holding her steady.

In the morning, she’ll blame her post-partum hormones and anxiety. But she doesn’t even realizing her eyes are filling with tears and when she blinks they spill down her face.

She wouldn’t feel as embarrassed if she wasn’t in the car full of literal celebrities who are filled with adrenaline and excitement. Chattering and drinking from little liquor bottles they’d snuck in their jackets and clutches.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Rita Ora asks from her seat - noticing the streaks ruining your makeup.

She nods pathetically, wiping at her eyes but Harry is turning her to face him. His bright green eyes filled with concern as he studies her face.

The previously very obnoxiously loud cab becomes silent as they try to give the couple a semblance of non-existent privacy.

“What’s happening, dove? Are you hurting?” Harry panics, coming to wipe the smeared makeup away.

“I don’t want to go to the club,” Y/N sniffles, squeezing her eyes shut at how embarrassed she is of her behavior. She would usually never act this way - especially in public. And Harry knows that so it makes him even more concerned.

“That’s okay, pet. We can go have a night in, when the cab stops - we can uber back to the hotel,” Harry soothes, surprised when that brings on fresh tears.

“N-no, I want to go home. I miss the baby, I want to- need to see our baby. I-I can’t do this. My anxiety is through the roof, Harry. What if she can’t sleep? Or isn’t taking the bottle?”

“Baby, breathe, breathe. We can go home. I miss the bub terribly too. Have been worried about her all night.”

Harry tugs his wife into his chest further - tucking her head into his neck as he shoots his friends grateful looks. They all nod, sympathetic and understanding - despite them not having kids of their own.

**

“I ruined your night,” Y/N says softly in the back of the uber home. “I leaked during the show; cried in front of all your friends.”

Harry takes her chin gentle but firm until she meets his gaze, “You didn’t ruin anything f’me. All I care about is you and the baby - not some stupid award ceremony or party.”

He continues on, “You just gave us Sasha three months ago - y’bloody amazing. Best mum, best wife. Sexiest too - know you don’t think that right now but your body literally grew my baby. I get a hard-on everytime I see you.”

They both laugh, Y/N leaning forward to capture her husbands lips in a meaningful kiss of gratitude and thanks.

**

Anne smiles kindly when the two of them arrive home. A very fussy, red-faced swaddled baby coddled in her arms. 

“She hasn’t settled for quite a while now - she missed her parents very much,” Harry’s mum tells them, transferring her into her father’s arms. He’s automatically rocking and running his thumb over her cheek.

“Ooh, we missed you. Was Nana nice to you?” Harry coos. Sasha has already quieted and is blinking tearfully up at her smiling father.

“Such a good girl, best girl,” Y/N sighs, leaning in to kiss her downy hair. Harry’s hand coming to wrap around his wife’s waist as they peer down at their perfect little daughter.

Anne smiles at his son and daughter-in-law fawning over their little creation with so much love and adoration.

After a minute of chatting -Harry’s mum makes her way up to the guest room after a long night with a miserable baby. They make their way to their room where Y/N strips out of her tight dress and awful bra. 

She sits against the headboard in just a pair of soft cotton panties. Harry is gently shushing her and humming a melody as his wife gets situated. He knew she was anxious to feed the baby.

“That’s it my sweet thing. Y’missed us, hm? We missed you too, bub. Nana said y’wouldn’t take the bottle. Only want your mumma, hmm?” Harry coos, kissing her chubby cheeks.

He’s then giving Y/N the baby, who ferociously latching within seconds and begins eating like she’d been starved for the last week. Making weak little rumbles as she does so.

They both giggle fondly, Y/Ns fingers come to touch her fluttering cheek - memorizing her over and over again.

Harry gets onto the bed and settles next to the both of them. Watching his baby feed in amazement at what his wife was capable of. He smears a few kisses against her bare shoulder - hand on his baby’s back.

How strong she was - as he knew it had to be at least a little bit painful with how irritated her nipples had been. He can tell when she winces every once in a while.

He plants a few more kisses to her warm skin - noticing her eyes getting a bit droopy as Sasha feeds at a slow, suckling pace.

“If I’m being honest, being with you - watching you feed our baby...I’d rather be here than at any club.” 

Y/N snorts, rolling her eyes, “Sure.”

Her husband frowns, “M’serious, this is all I need, baby.”

“I love you, congratulation on all your Brits,” Y/N murmurs, pecking at his lips.

“I love you too. I meant it, during my speeches. I wouldn’t have been able to write those songs if you hadn’t inspired me. You’ll and the bab will always be the best muse.”

#Harry Styles #harrystylesfanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles drabble #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #dad!harry #dad harry styles #husband!harry #husband harry styles #fic recommendation #harry styles fic rec #harry styles masterlist #harry styles writing request #harry styles request #harry styles reader #requests open!

[queenshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part Three)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut

Words: 2,947

Notes:

I have decided to make this into a series.

Alright, no judgment. This was a dream of mine and I felt like I had to write it down. Everyone in this Fic is over the age of 18 and this Fic is in no way based on Cillian’s real family life. It’s pure filth.

 *************************

Cillian’s POV

Shortly after Denise got home from her rather miserable date with Jeremy, Cillian went to bed. It was only 9 o’clock but he thought that he would spend some time finishing reading the book he had started to read two nights ago.

The problem was that, even when he tried hard to focus on the content of the book, he couldn’t.

His mind was overrun with guilt about what had happened between you all so suddenly and unexpectedly and he still wasn’t so sure why he had given into you so easily. It was almost like he had lost all of his self-control in that moment.

This kind of behaviour was unusual for him. Usually, he would have been more sensible than this. After all, he was 45 and never had a one-night stand in his entire life.

Would you share this with anyone?

Probably not, he thought. He had known you for a while and you weren’t the type of woman who was actively seeking attention. You were always somewhat nerdy and a bit of loner. For years, he had known you to be sensible and he always liked that you were looking out for his daughter Denise. You were more mature than her and were always somewhat shy and reserved.

With this in mind, he was even more surprised by your actions. You seducing him the way you did seemed out of character for you which made him nervous.

Did you have feelings for him?

He certainly hoped that you didn’t. For him, this was nothing but sex and he would hate to give you the feeling that it was something more. He didn’t want to hurt you.

He should never have given into you. He knew that it was wrong and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he acted so selfishly because, in his mind, this was exactly what it was. An act of selfishness.

You were young and clearly inexperienced which made this whole thing even worse. It was obvious to Cillian that you hadn’t been with many men before and he felt as though he took advantage of you even despite the fact that you were the one who made a move on him. He should have stopped you.

The fact that he is seeing someone else in Manchester didn’t help either and, whilst it wasn’t anything serious or exclusive, it felt wrong to him to be intimate with you which, in his own mind, brought him to another dilemma all together.

Why didn’t he use protection when he slept with you?

He knew that he could have simply walked into his son’s bedroom and find what he needed. But he didn’t. Instead, he was so consumed by lust that he forgot all about the need to be play it safe. Of course, he always reminded his adult children about the importance of protection and yet, he failed to adhere to his own rules.

Whilst he knew that you didn’t have many sexual partners and any risk associated with contracting STDs was somewhat low, he worried that you weren’t on birth control.

Why on earth didn’t he at least ask you about it? Was it too late to ask you now? Why did you make him pull out?

WHAT THE FUCK HAD HE DONE???

He panicked and he knew he had to talk to you in order to ease his mind.

YOUR POV

After you listened to Denise about her date gone wrong and what an asshole Jeremy actually was, you also made your way to bed. You felt terrible for her but knew that she would meet someone else who would make her happy and treat her well.

But her date with Jeremy wasn’t the only thing you felt terrible about. Even more so, you felt terrible about sleeping with her father which you knew was wrong and yet, you tried to justify it in your head.

Why did you act so selfishly and gave into your sexual needs?

This was something you had never done before. You were rather careful when it came to getting yourself involved with guys.

You had taken a liking in your friend’s father several years ago when you were 19. But then, it was just a silly crush you thought.

When you heard about his divorce however, you began to fantasise about him in your sleep and this was simply a fantasy you had finally acted upon.

This, however, didn’t change the fact that he was your friend’s father.

Would she mind if she knew?

Maybe she wouldn’t. She might just think that you are disgusting for sleeping with her dad but, in the end of the day, you are two consenting adults.

Why couldn’t you stop even when you realised that what you were doing was wrong?

When you made the first move it was almost like you were in a trance. You were overwhelmed. You wanted every bit of it but you never experienced sex quite like this. It was intense and he certainly knew what he was doing.

Whilst Cillian was much older than you, you were extremely attracted to him. Everything about him was perfect in your mind and he felt incredible when he was inside you.

You wanted so much more and thought that, perhaps, if it was just sex, it wasn’t wrong after all.

Together Again

Just as those thoughts raced through your mind, you heard a quite knock on the door.

Thinking that it was Denise, you didn’t bother to cover up as you were sitting on the guest bed in black cotton panties and a tight cotton singlet.

To your surprise, however, it wasn’t Denise who walked into the guestroom when you called out ‘come in’. It was Cillian.

His chin dropped as soon as he saw you. For some reason, he took a liking in your rather simple but yet revealing outfit, your messy hair and your black framed reading glasses.

‘Hey’ you simply said shyly as he was standing there speechless.

‘Hey’ he responded, swallowing harshly before telling you that he needed to talk to you.

‘Sure’ you said, putting the magazine down which you were reading along with your reading glasses. Then, you scooted over on the bed and indicated to him to sit down next to you.

His scent was intoxicating. He was freshly showered and his hair was still wet but you could still smell a hint of his aftershave on him.

‘So, what do you want to talk about?’ you asked without bothering to cover up your naked skin and you could see Cillian’s mind working overtime while the tension was building.

‘About what happened between us’ he then stammered while he observed your eyes wandering towards where they shouldn’t. But, you couldn’t help it and, when you noticed that he was reacting to your presence, you bit your lips seductively.

‘What happened between us was just sex. It’s not a big deal. People have sex all the time and you can trust me Cillian. It will remain our little secret’ you said in a seductive voice while moving your hand over Cillian’s upper thigh, through the hairs on his exposed skin and then all the way towards the rim of his boxers.

‘Y/N’ he barely managed to stammer, swallowing harshly.

‘Yes Cillian?’ you then smirked, noticing the effect you were having on him and moving your hand farther up his legs and beneath his boxers where you began to stroke his cock.

‘You are so hard’ you then whispered as you received no response from him other than a groan and, just as you did, Cillian took hold of you and pushed you beneath him in one swift movement.

Without words, Cillian’s warm lips met yours in a passionate kiss. The kiss was more urgent than before and you loved the way he asserted his dominance as his tongue circled around yours.

He felt such desire for you that he thought he would explode and, whilst he was normally quite vocal, every word he tried to say and every question he was going to ask you, were caught in his throat.

Wrapping your arms round him you ran your hands up and down his firm back as your mouths ground together. Sucking on each other's lips and plunging your tongues into each other’s mouth.

You couldn’t believe how wonderful it was to be kissed in such an experienced, almost sophisticated way and Cillian was marvelling at how someone so young could have learned to kiss so well.

Within split seconds and in between heated kisses, Cillian’s t-shirt and your singlet landed on the floor.

It wasn’t long until Cillian’s mouth left yours and began to wander over your firm breasts and then all the way down to your stomach which is where they came to a halt.

He interlocked his fingers with your panties and pulled them down, letting them join the other clothes on the floor before his head gracefully disappeared in between your legs.

‘It goes without saying, but you need to be quiet’ Cillian chuckled and you barely managed to nod before you covered your own mouth with the palm of your hand as Cillian dipped his tongue straight into your wetness.

‘Oh god yes’ you whimpered quietly as the rasping roughness of his tongue slid along your velvety wetness and sent enormous tremors through you.

You had little experience of either, receiving or, giving oral sex. In your world of mainly inexperienced boys, it was hardly on the agenda as they were generally too keen to get their rocks off to worry overly about your pleasure. In any case in the usually rushed episodes in the back of cars or downstairs with parents in bed there was hardly the time let alone the opportunity for languid pussy licking or sensual cock sucking. In the world of the forty-five year-old man lying between your opened legs, however, it very much was on the agenda and he seemed to enjoy it just as much as you did.

You moaned loudly as you were holding Cillian’s head in both hands as he licked the length of your pussy. He did it slowly with just the right amount of pressure making sure that the tip of his tongue fully anointed both lips and licked just inside them on that especially sensitive area.

When you moaned a little too loudly again, he reminded you to be quiet just before he sucked and kissed you again, covering every inch of the outside of your pussy before pushing the straightened tip of his tongue inside and probing upwards licking the insides as he started to tongue fuck you.

‘This feels so fucking good’ you stammered, legs shaking and quivering while Cillian held you tightly and it wasn’t long until you reached an orgasm which sent convulsions through your body.

You moaned a little too loud again as your whole body tingled and felt tender to the touch and tears of pleasure and relief, with a tinge of guilt, poured down your cheeks.

‘That was amazing’ you eventually huffed out as you slowly came down from your high and Cillian kissed his way back up your body until his lips reached yours.

‘You taste so fucking good’ he then whispered into your ear after your lips drifted apart and, just as he did, you reached in between his legs and began stroking his cock which was still rock hard.

‘I want to feel you inside me again…please…just once more’ you begged and the sound of you begging alone made Cillian groan.

‘Fuck Y/N…I want you so much’ he whispered as he pulled down his boxers and his wiggling body urged your legs to open so that his cock lay between your thighs with the bulbous end of it pressed against your lips.

‘Then take me’ you groaned marvelling at the fact your friend's dad was about to fuck you.

With the tip of his cock just slightly parting the lips of your pussy and his arms round your body with his hands gripping your taught bum he muttered something you couldn’t understand. It was obvious to you that his mind was hardly able to accept what was happening. Nonetheless, he wanted it so badly and, with a shrug of his hips, he sank his cock deep into your gorgeously tight and wonderfully welcoming pussy.

‘Oh god yes, Cillian’ you groaned as your fingernails were digging into his back.

He pushed himself in as far as it would go, eliciting more groans from you which he had to quickly silence with his lips.

You felt light-headed and deliriously happy. You also felt very filled. Cillian was bigger than the other guys you had been with and you loved the feeling of being stretched. The folds of skin that guard your clit seemed to be open and that so sensitive place felt to be exposed, so as Cillian started moving slowly up and down it was as though his cock was rubbing on it. You had never felt anything like it before. Just as you had never felt like cumming when a man's cock had only been inside you for a few moments.

Somehow, however, you managed to delay your release just a little bit longer, enjoying as Cillian thrusted into you hard and deep until, eventually, the inevitable happened.

‘Let go, there is no need to hold back’ Cillian reassured you and, just as he did, you allowed your orgasm to wash over you.

‘Oh god Cillian, fuck’ you shouted out and he quickly covered your mouth with his hand as he continued to thrust into and watched you lose control.

Your legs were shaking once again as you gave in and, when you finally came down, Cillian pulled out of you.

Thinking that he was done and that he wanted you to proceed as before, you scooted up but, to your surprise, Cillian pulled you on top of him instead.

‘Your turn to take what you need Y/N’ Cillian whispered and you couldn’t help but shiver at his words. He wanted you on top and that was yet another first for you.

‘You can cum again’ he then said but you couldn’t help but shake your head.

‘I don’t think I can, but I am willing to try’ you smirked. He had already given you four orgasms that day which were four more orgasms than anyone else before him had given you.

‘I bet you can’ he then winked and you nodded shyly before taking his hard cock into your hand and lining it up with your entrance.

‘I will be sore tomorrow I think’ you whispered as, with a moan, you sank down on his hard cock.

‘Yes, you will be’ Cillian chuckled as, all of a sudden, he thrusted upwards and deep into your mound, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

Once again, he covered your mouth with his hand as you began to ride him.

‘You feel so fucking good, you know that?’ Cillian groaned as you began to move up and down on his hard shaft. He certainly had become vocal now and you loved it.

‘So tight around my cock’ he then groaned as he met your thrusts and he could hear you starting to whimper.

‘Oh god…yes, fuck my pussy’ you moaned quietly, holding his hand and keeping it near your mouth while sucking on his fingers.

‘Cum inside me Cillian. I want to feel it. Fill me with your cum’ you then demanded as you began to ride his cock harder and faster and, by this point, Cillian had lost all self-control.

The dirty talk, the tightness of your pussy and the way your lips played with his fingers was too much for him.

‘Cum with me Cillian’ you then moaned as you let go and so did he.

‘Oh god Cillian, yes…fuck’ you groaned as such amazing feelings flooded your body and you felt him push into you as far as he could go.

‘Fuck Y/N’ grunted as you both climaxed simultaneously and you soared to a height of pleasure you had never previously experienced when Cillian’s cock exploded sending streams of his cum into you.

‘Oh god that was amazing’ you eventually huffed out when you both stopped moving.

‘Jesus Y/N’ Cillian grunted almost at the same time before his eyes shot open and he saw your satisfied smile.

Carefully, you climbed off him, releasing his cock from your tight pussy before you sat down on the bed next to him.

You spread your legs and, with curious eyes, you looked down on yourself and watched some of Cillian’s cum leak from your core.

‘That feels so fucking good…so warm and wet’ you observed as you collected some of his cum with your finger and brought it to your mouth while Cillian cocked an eyebrow, wondering what you were doing.

‘Uhm…?’ Cillian chuckled, watching you almost speechlessly but yet somewhat turned on.

‘I never had a guy cum inside me but this is so fucking sexy’ you observed with a laugh before reshuffling yourself and collapsing into his arms.

‘Yeah, about that…’ Cillian went on to say…

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