#sorry i was gone for like a little over a month

[charliemwrites]

Part 4

Mister(s) Steal Your Girl is, somehow, now the official title. Congratulations you little shits (affectionate).

Content: Toxic Behavior, Brief Weight Shaming, Hurt/Comfort

You didn’t expect to see Johnny much after that one night - or possibly ever again. Kyle introduced you two, it was a lot of fun, but you figure that’ll be the end of it. Like introducing a new man to your girlfriends (not that you can really introduce Kyle to yours) you passed the vibe check and now Kyle will keep you and Johnny separate.

That’s how it’s been with Brandon’s friends. (Granted, you don’t really care for Brandon’s friends. And you figure it’s mutual based on the “uptight” comments they pretended to think you couldn’t hear.)

You’re starting to realize that Kyle is always going to subvert your expectations.

Johnny becomes a fixture - a welcome one. While you and Kyle still have your date nights and privacy, Johnny joins you two at least once a week for movies, drinks, dinner, or just silly adventures out and about.

You’re surprised that you don’t mind. Johnny is fantastic company, always respectful, funny, and friendly. Whenever the two of you are left alone, there’s no dead air. In fact, sometimes you could almost swear there’s electricity. Which is… well. It makes it hard to look him in the eye sometimes - and looking at Kyle even harder.

Guilt nips at your stomach until one of them distracts you with another story you’re 70% sure they shouldn’t tell you.

You and Johnny play a game with pub napkins, doodling something on one folded half, then passing it over for the other to scribble on the second half. The trick is not cheating and seeing the first half, then unfolding it to a complete (and usually silly) picture. Gaz always gets to name whatever monstrosity has been created.

You get a month of that good company. Then Kyle sighs at his phone one night.

“Shipping out again,” he explains when you glance at him.

“Will you be gone long?” you ask, shifting.

His brow furrows. “Not sure. They can’t tell us much over the phone.”

You hum in understanding. Still new to this whole military thing, the redacted danger of it all, but you think you’re getting the hang of it. At least, Kyle never seems annoyed when he can’t answer you, only apologetic.

“Is it gonna be the whole team?” you ask.

“Nah, just me and the cap.” He rubs his palm along your calf, a gesture that you suspect is self-soothing rather than for your benefit. “Probably not too dangerous, then.”

You make a noise of protest, nudging at his thigh with your foot. “Bad luck!”

“Sorry, sorry!” he chuckles, tapping his knuckles on the wooden end table. “You’re right.”

You crawl from your side of the couch to his, nuzzling up under his arm. He trails kisses along the side of your face as you snuggle in.

“I’ll miss you,” you mumble into his neck. Still a little embarrassed to be so needy, but you want him to feel appreciated.

“I’ll miss you too, chickadee. I’ll call if I can, yeah?”

You hum in agreement, squeezing an arm around his middle.

“While I’m gone, if you need anything - even some company - you ought to call Soap,” he adds.

The idea is tempting but… “I don’t want to bother him.”

“I promise you won’t,” he laughs. You don’t know what’s so funny, but hearing his voice rumble in his chest like this is always a treat.

“Maybe,” you allow.

“We’ll take it.” Before you can ask what that means, he loops an arm around your waist and scoops you into his lap. “Now then, about my send off.”

Your giggle turns into a moan as his mouth slants over yours.

Kyle’s only been gone three days. You’ve occupied yourself with cleaning up the flat you share with Brandon. Dust has been collecting since you’ve been out and about so much - and god knows Brandon hardly does more than load the dishwasher. Besides, a good bit of spring cleaning is a pleasant enough distraction, humming as you toss out old things to make more room for the new stuff you’ve been collecting.

“Good to see you getting back to normal,” Brandon says cheerfully. You glance up from the laundry you’re folding. He continues, “I was worried with how behind you got on things, but I knew you just needed some time. I told you this would be better for us both.”

You try not to let that sting. Even if things are better now, and continuing to get better, you can’t forget the pain that lingers from the beginning.

“Tell you what,” he adds, hands in his pockets. “When you finish cleaning up, I’ll take you out to the pub, yeah? Put on something pretty.”

You perk up, pleasantly surprised, though hesitant.

“We could leave earlier if you helped,” you point out, hoping for more than just dinner. “Maybe we could walk in the park or something before eating.”

He gives you a weak smile. One you recognize more than his real one by now. It’s almost apologetic, but not quite.

“I would but I’m bloody exhausted from this week, ya know? Big projects coming up at work.”

Your smile freezes. “And some late nights, I’m sure,” you try to joke.

He doesn’t laugh like you expect, but gives you an odd look. “Why would you say something like that?”

Baffled, you shrug. He shakes his head.

“I’m going to take a nap, come wake me up when you’re ready to go.”

You manage to finish the majority of your to-do list by 5. Shower, get dressed, do your hair and makeup with Brandon snoring in the background until 6. By then, he still hasn’t woken up from his nap, so you perch on the edge of the bed and gently nudge at him until he stirs.

“I’m ready to go, babe,” you murmur.

He scrunches up his face - you spare an affectionate thought for how cute it is. You’ve always found it cute.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.

You laugh a little. “It’s getting late, we should probably head out.”

He groans. “Five. Minutes.”

You huff in amusement and reach for his phone to set an alarm, but pause at all the notifications from dating apps crowding his screen. There are… a lot. And as you’re looking, a new message pops up, just labeled “blonde” with a peach emoji. Gross.

You set the alarm and slip away to the living room.

It takes him another half hour to finally rouse, shuffling into the living room with a groan.

“C’mon,” he yawns. “It’s going to be bloody crowded by now.”

You follow him quietly to the car, knowing he’s not chatty when he’s just woken up. Hunger only adds to his mood; you can practically see a cloud forming over his head. By the time he pulls up to the pub, he’s downright grumpy. He grumbles about shit parking, and the milling people outside. It looks busy.

“We could go somewhere else?” you suggest.

“This is fine,” he says.

He parks a block away and starts at a swift pace. You try to hold his hand, but halfway there, he pulls away to check his phone and doesn’t take it again.

Surprisingly, it’s only a twenty minute wait for a table - but Brandon sneers something like “of course it is” under his breath. You smile apologetically at the hostess and usher him away.

He doesn’t talk during the wait, at first. Until suddenly he blurts. “We wouldn’t have to wait if you’d woken me up.”

You blink at him. “I did. You asked for five more minutes.”

“Well, why didn’t you wake me up then?”

“I set an alarm?”

You don’t know why he’s so irritated, just that he seems tired and hungry.

“You know I don’t listen to alarms,” he complains, scowling at the sidewalk.

“Okay… I’ll wake you up next time,” you offer.

“Yeah, next time.”

Thankfully, the two of you are called a little early. The pub is indeed loud and crowded, and you’re definitely overdressed. But at least you know what you want - Brandon’s taken you here a million times before.

Wisely, you wait until he’s downed the texmex rolls before trying for conversation again. He hums along as you talk about work, about the books you’ve been reading, about the new movie you saw last week. You think it’s going pretty well, catching up on each other’s lives, when he interrupts you mid-sentence.

“Where was this?”

You frown. “At the grocery store…?”

“You’re still on that? Thought we moved on from that story.”

You don’t bother finishing it, just ask him about his work. It’s like pulling teeth. A lot of “good” and “busy” and “same as usual.” By the time your entree comes, you’ve given up, not sure if you want to cry or just walk away to see if he even notices. He keeps checking his phone. Your fingers twitch to text Kyle, but you don’t want to bother him while he’s working.

The end of dinner can’t come sooner. You decline dessert when the server asks.

“Probably for the better,” Brandon tells you lowly when they’re gone to get the check. “I think you’ve put on a bit of weight. You know how you get.”

You probably have - Kyle has a sweet tooth and practically begs you to split desserts with him. Johnny’s shares his food with you now too, grinning when you express approval for whatever high-protein dish he’s picked and shoving more at you.

As for “how you get”… Brandon’s mentioned in the past when you were heavier that you get mopey, aren’t much fun to be around.

(A small part of you wonders how that would even effect him at this point. He doesn’t spend enough time around you to notice if you’re mopey. Is that why tonight has been such a disaster…?)

You just collect your purse and lead the way out of the pub. It’s a quiet walk back to the car, even though Brandon seems to be in a better mood. He’s still texting, nearly bumps into an elderly couple along the way.

Back at the apartment, he runs his hand down your side, tugs at the lace hem of your shirt.

“Careful,” you chide.

He sucks his teeth and drops his hand. “I’m just trying to be playful.”

��I know, but I like this shirt.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got three just like it.”

You don’t answer, know it’ll lead to more useless bickering. Just tug the stupid thing over your head, ready to go to bed.

“Hey now, that’s more like it,” he drawls, fingertips running down your spine.

You jump, surprised, but play it off that his hands are cold. He makes some crass comment about warming them up, reaching for your breasts, and your stomach churns.

“I-I think I ate something bad,” you lie, all but sprinting for the bathroom.

You close the door behind you - but don’t lock it. Just sit on the floor, the wall cold against your back, while you try to breathe through your spinning, conflicting thoughts.

He’s finally giving you attention, affection. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity to spend time with him? Not long ago, you would have been weeping with joy to have an iota of your normal relationship back. Maybe you really did eat something bad.

“Hey,” Brandon calls through the door, “I’m gonna stay somewhere else tonight.”

You stare at the blank white wood, aghast. “But I’m sick.”

“It’s not like I can do much, is there? Except listen to you be sick all night,” he reasons. “And who knows. Maybe it wasn’t something you ate. Maybe it’s contagious. I don’t want to spend the weekend ill.”

Your eyes burn. He didn’t even open the door to check. “Yeah,” you agree, voice robotic, “you’re right.”

Not even five minutes later, you hear the front door close. That almost, almost does you in. You manage to keep your lackluster dinner down, but not the tears.

You let yourself be pathetic for a few minutes, crying into your arms, folded over your knees. When you finally manage to get yourself together, it’s not Brandon you ache for. It’s Kyle. It’s not possible, you know. You just don’t want to be alone even though the nausea is dissipating.

Sighing, you remove your ruined makeup and wash your face, climb into one of Kyle’s jumpers. At least it still smells like him. It’s only as you’re trying to decide on a comfort show, huddled into a ball on the couch, that you remember his advice.

It takes all of fifteen seconds of debate before you scramble for your phone.

I know it’s late, but are you free, you text Johnny.

A response comes almost immediately.

Always for you, lass. You bite your lip on a tiny smile, already feeling better. Your phone buzzes again. What’s up?

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as you figure out what to ask - then how to ask it.

Would you want to come to mine for movies? I don’t feel good…

He answers instantly again. Ice cream not-good or Theraflu not-good?

You sniffle when you remember that being sick was a dealbreaker for your night with Brandon.

Ice cream not-good, you reply.

Say no more, hen. Be there in fifteen. Pick a good one.

You watch TikTok’s until there’s a knock at the door. Upon answering, you’re swept up in a bear hug that lifts you off your socked feet.

“Johnny!” you cry, laughing a bit in shock.

“There she is!” he crows, swinging you around. “Been missin’ my best girl!”

You tell yourself the thrill in your stomach is just from him setting you down. (It’s a harder sell when it happens again seeing his wide smile and warm blue eyes.)

“You're ridiculous,” you huff, “I’m not your best girl.”

He arches his eyebrows. “Oh, yer keepin’ track, are ye?”

“C’mon, you must have a partner or something?” you prod as you usher him inside.

“Kyle must’ve told ye, hen, it’s hard in this line of work,” he explains, shrugging. “Tried before but… usually they just end up feeling neglected, ya ken.”

You hum. That’s why Kyle said you and he would work so well with the open relationship - that you’d still have someone at home while he was out. That you wouldn’t be alone if something happened to him.

“Anyway, this is no kinda talk for a cozy night in, now is it?” Johnny says, cutting your melancholy musing short. “Come look at what I brought ya!”

You only notice then the two grocery bags in one hand. He herds you to the couch and sets them on the coffee table for you to root through.

“My favorite!” You exclaim when you extract the tub of ice cream.

The grin Johnny shoots you is proud. “Kyle said so.”

“You two,” you sigh happily.

He’s also brought a squishy stuffed animal, crisps, popcorn, soda, candy, and a small collection of self-care items. You hold the face-masks up with a questioning smile.

“Heard somewhere that it’s good for ye, when yer feelin’ down.” You try not to giggle when the last word comes out sounding like “doon.” He continues, blissfully ignorant. “Hope that’s the right shite, there was a lot to choose from.”

You throw your arms around him, chest warm. “Thank you, this is perfect, Johnny.”

He circles his arm around your waist, holding you close. “Anytime, bonnie,” he murmurs into your hair.

You squeeze his shoulders as you pull away, waving one of the mask packets with a wicked little smile.

“Wanna try this ‘shite’ with me?” you tease.

You expect a resounding and masculine-heavy no. Instead, Johnny tilts his head consideringly for a moment, then shrugs.

“Eh, why the hell not?”

You wake up the next morning to a mess of candy wrappers, discarded moisturizers, and an empty carton of ice cream. And the smell of eggs. Cartoons are playing quietly on the telly. When you yawn and sit up, you’re greeted by a cheerful Johnny at the stove, wearing your pink apron.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” he calls.

You flush and smile back, glad that you called him. “Mornin’!”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #misters steal your girl #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #Brandon the crash dummy

[desi2go]

Importance

pairings: dad!Chan x mom!reader

warnings: angst, fluff

summary: Having a child with an idol isn't easy...

author's note: I'm sorry that I couldn't post anything the last two weeks. But here I am with a new one!

Marriage wasn't easy. Especially when your beloved husband was an idol. The Bang Chan, leader of Stray Kids.

Between tours and busy schedules, there was little time for your relationship. But even though it was hard and you missed him like hell when he was gone for a long time, you still didn't regret to come to your best friend Changbin's party years ago. There, you had met him.

Well, he didn't see you and accidentally poured his drink over you. When your eyes met, he was fascinated by your breathtaking beauty. Maybe it was destiny back then. It felt surreal, like he was your soulmate. The missing piece in in your heart and life.

Apologetic, he bought you a drink and after a wonderful night together, asked for your number.

Soon, he took you out on a date and there followed a second and a third, becoming a huge part in your life.

Without noticing, time passed and Chan proposed to you.

You immediately said yes and became Mrs. Bang.

The second you were married, your family asked when you both would begin to try for a baby but Chan and you wanted to wait some time before thinking about an addition to your family.

You still were young and Stray kids took much time and you understood that. Your job was also one of your top priorities and wanted to earn more money.

But it seemed that the universe had other plans with you two. Seven months after the wedding you started feeling sick. At first you brushed it off and thought that it is just a stomach bug or the stress due to work.

As the lovely but overly concerned husband that he is, Chan took you too a doctor to get a check up. Even though you found it a little bit overdramatic, he still insisted and the reason why you felt nauseous was soon found. You were indeed pregnant and already two months into pregnancy.

Sure, it wasn't planned but you and Chan felt excited to have a small addition to the family. And sooner or later it would have happend anyways.

Chan promised that when the pregnancy was farther along, he would take some time off and help you. You agreed to that and decided to work some more months too before you need to go into maternity leave.

The months passed fast and soon, you welcomed your newest family member. A girl. A sweet girl with already some black locks on her head and the same brown eyes that you fell in love with.

Chan was over the moon. Even though during labour, he was terrified. Would he be a good dad? But all these thoughts washed away when he saw the beautiful angel you both had created with your undying love.

He was the first one to hold her as her crying filled the room. Exhausted, you observed the picture in front of you. Your husband with his precious daughter that already looked like a smaller copy of him.

He was told to undress his shirt and to lay the little bundle of joy against his bare chest to help her breath and keeping her warmth while the doctor checked on you because you had lost a lot of blood during birth.

The first weeks were exhausting. Your little girl, Nari, held both of you awake most of the night. Yourself needed to heal and time to recover from the labor, so you relied mostly on your husband who took such good care for his girl. Fortunately, he got some weeks off to settle into parenthood before going back to the boys even though they nearly saw each other every day.

Since you got home from the hospital, four days after birth, they visited you to meet their 'little sister' as they called Nari. Oh lord, they were so smitten. The only one that seems not so sure about that little human was Seungmin but when he thought that nobody would watch, you catched him drawing circles over Nari's hands, smiling when she wrapped her hand around one of his fingers.

When Chan went back, the house was suddenly so empty. After weeks of being together 24/7, the sudden quiet was unfamiliar. In the mornings, Chan was already out, you loved to lay on the couch, your daughter on your chest, snuggling close to you while sleeping.

When Chan came back home in the evening, he greeted you with a kiss and immediately ran off to his daughter to tell her about his day even though she was already sleeping. You loved to observe him while cooking. You loved this little family. It was something that you ever wanted.

You really loved Nari. But after the pregnancy and early motherhood, you needed some space for yourself. You would love to spend an evening with your girls. Just making yourself look pretty and have fun without watching over a child.

Especially since you almost never leave the house except for some stroller walks and buying errands.

You asked your husband if he comes home some hours earlier so that you could enjoy your night. Immediately, he agreed and you were so grateful that he understood you.

On that day, you took your time with getting ready while your daughter slept. You hoped that Chan would be home soon so that you would be on time since you hated being late.

Minutes passed as you sat on the couch waiting for him. Minutes turned into half an hour and you wrote your girls that you would run a little late today. They were understanding.

More minutes passed and you waited already for a whole hour. You tried to call him since he was always so focused on his work so that he sometimes forgets the time.

He didn't pick up and you were already half an hour late. Your girls were already seated in your restaurant, waiting for you to show up so that they could start ordering food.

Sighing, you texted then that you couldn't make it and they shouldn't wait up on you. Frustrated, you cleared your face from the make up that was hours worth of work.

You took off the new dress that you had bought. You were so excited to wear it because it made you feel so pretty again after the pregnancy made you look bloated and your belly was still not the same then before.

You didn't know if you felt rage, sadness or disappointment that you needed to stay home because of your husband.

It wouldn't be so bad if it was the first time after he got back to work. He used to come back at a normal time to have some time with you and the baby. But as the weeks passed, he stayed later and got up earlier so that you saw him just for some minutes per day.

It was like you were all on your own here in your home. You knew from the beginning that Stray kids was really important to him but after entering parenthood you had hoped that he wouldn't stay till past midnight in the company.

You heard the key unlocking the front door and your husband finally decided to come home after he had promised you that he would be here three hours ago. He greeted you with a small peck on the forehead as you waited for him in the living room.

He looked so calm while dropping his bag to the ground and sitting down on the couch.

"Why are you standing there honey?" He asked. You crossed your arms. He didn't even remembered that this was supposed to be your night out.

"Why are you so late?" You tried to remain calm since your daughter slept in the neighbouring room.

"I was working on the newest song for stray kids" he explained.

"Oh really? Because you said you would be here hours ago" you didn't want to pick a fight. You hated fighting with him. It made your heart clench but this night was important to you.

"I'm sorry honey. But I needed to get it done"

"Well, I had plans for the night, Chan."

"Really? I'm sorry honey. I forgot and this song was important"

"The song was important? My reservation with the girls was important to me" you said and couldn't hold the calm tone that you wanted.

"I already said I'm sorry, Y/n. I got caught up in work" He grew annoyed.

"Like always. You're always so late that I wonder if you even remember that you have a family at home" You knew you were mean and unfair but all these things were twirling around your head for days.

"Of course I remember! I'm sorry that I make money for us" he exclaimed sarcastically. His voice loud, nearly shouting.

These words hurt you. He knew damn well that you aren't dependent on his money and that you make good money as well. Even though you currently took a maternity leave.

"Fuck you, Chan. You aren't the only one working. I was asking you for just one thing. Just being home a little earlier so that I could have some time for myself." You said loudly, your voice cracking in the middle as some tears stung in your eyes.

"Y/n. I-" he tried but you stopped him.

"Nari is your child too. Currently, I'm the only one she sees whether it's in the morning or in the evening. And I'm tired. Tired of being the only one raising her."

You heard cries from the other room. You must have woken up your sleeping daughter. Sighing, you excited the room and headed to Nari without waiting for an answer.

Chan knew that he went too far and that he was more away than home. And it pained him to not spend so much time with his daughter. Slowly he followed you to your daughter's room.

It was dimly lit and you sat in the rocking chair next to her crib with Nari in your arms, rocking her. He hated seeing her in distress and guilt crept up. He was a terrible father and an even more terrible husband.

You felt Chan's hot gaze on you. You knew that the guilt ate him alive right now. He couldn't fool you. Therefore you knew him too well.

After placing Nari back into her crib, giving her a light kiss on her soft skin that smelled so sweet like a baby. Your baby.

Then, you took Chan's hand and lead you outside to the kitchen, farther away from your daughter.

He just followed you, deep in thoughts.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry. I should have come early. And I know that parenting a child alone is difficult. I didn't want to lash out on you like that. I know that the meeting with your friends was important to you" he said and caressed your hand.

"I'm sorry too. It's obvious that you try to be around Nari as long and often as you can."

"No, you were right. I need to be here more. Especially with you both. I shouldn't let work take over so much" he said and pulled you into his arms.

His arms circled around your waist while yours travelled upwards into his fluffy locks. Exhausted he let his head fall on your shoulder, all the tension leaving his body.

"I love you Chan" you whispered.

"I love you too. You and Nari are the most important things in my life"

#stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan imagines #stray kids #stray kids angst

[danikamariewrites]

She Belongs To Me

Mob!Azriel x reader AU

A/n: sorry it’s been forever since I added to this little series. I think this is my favorite story I’ve written for mob!Az so far and I’m really proud of how it turned out!

Warnings: possessive Az, uncomfortable interactions with a man

Twirling once more in front of the floor length mirror you smile, your signature mini black dress hugging every curve perfectly. You pull your lipstick from your mini purse to touch up the darker shade that paints your lips. You decided to go with a clean simple look for the night. You were probably going to sweat it all off later anyway, but you still wanted to look cute for Az.

You were finally going to the club in Velaris Azriel just bought ownership in with Eris Vanserra. A new business deal between the two families. If you had tried to go to this place with Feyre and Mor before you started dating Az you would’ve been turned away at the door, but tonight you’re V.I.P’s. Not that you three ever cared about that stuff before. Just one of the few perks you get.

Azriel exited the lengthy walk-in closet you now share, sliding his usual black suit jacket on. The top buttons of his crisp white shirt undone, showing off his swirling tattoos. Popping your lips and capping the lipstick you turn to face Az, giving him a small smile. He returned your look with a smirk that conveyed his admiration and want for you.

Striding over to you Azriel holds your chin between his beautifully scarred fingers. His eyes dart over your face as they always do. Like he’s committing every part of you to his memory. “Breathtaking. You look breathtakingly beautiful as always, my love.” Azriel says softly. You smile brightly at him. Taking his other hand in yours you give it a loving squeeze. Running your thumb over the ridges of his scars.

“You look breathtakingly handsome as well, baby.” Azriel smiled bashfully, dipping his head to prevent you from seeing his obvious blush. Resting a hand against his strong chest, pushing up on your tiptoes you press a kiss to his freshly shaven jaw. You hold your lips against his skin longer than you normally would, taking in his scent and the feel of his soft skin.

Pulling away you make sure to check that you left behind a lipstick stain. Marking him as yours as he’s done for you on a o many nights. Azriel’s smile hasn’t left his lips, the want gone from his eyes and replaced with pure, unfiltered love. Without hesitating he grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers. “Let’s go,” his voice airy as he pulls you out of the bedroom.

Entering the club you couldn’t help but be in awe of it. The place was nothing like the shitty college bars the three of you went to. The music was appropriately loud, a V.I.P section, a bar stocked with expensive liquor bottles with names you’ve never even heard of before. The lighting perfectly dim, bright enough to navigate your way through the crowd.

Azriel pulls you towards the V.I.P section. Climbing the platform you spot Mor and Feyre with Rhys already enjoying bottle service and a comically large plate of nachos. You notice Rhys giving Azriel a tight lipped look, like he’s not happy to give Azriel the news he’s about to deliver. Azriel slips his hand from yours, kissing your temple. “Go sit love, I’ll be right there.” He whispers.

Without another thought you throw yourself onto the booth between your friends. You start a mindless conversation, Feyre bitching and making fun of how Gavin has been acting since you left. Cassian joins you, coming in from parking the car. Feyre eyes his muscular figure. You know she’s been taken with Cass since the day he picked you up for your first date with Az. And you’ve been trying to push them together for months now, tired of the obvious flirting.

“Hello ladies,” he says seductively, “where are my brothers?” He asks, taking Feyre’s glass from her to take a swig of her drink. She lets out a dramatic gasp, reaching for her drink back. “Over there,” she giggles as Cass pokes at her.

The four of you look over to find the two having an animated conversation. You could tell Azriel was tense from the way he kept rolling his neck. Az made his way over to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, whispering, “I need to take care of some business with Eris. I’ll be back before you know it.” When he pulls back you give him a small smile and nod. He turns and Rhys follows. Cassian gives him a nod, knowing what his duties are while Azriel is away.

Cassian stood, hands clasped in front of him with that stoic ‘don’t you dare fuck with me look’. The fun, carefree boy gone. You loved pushing Cass and Rhys’s buttons when they’re acting as your bodyguards. Hiding from them in department stores, pretending to run from them. Tonight, however, was not the night for your shenanigans. Cass would never risk the girls and neither would you.

For a little over half an hour you, Mor, and Feyre enjoyed drinks and endless nachos and chicken fingers. Cassian, with his hawk like gaze, notices you looking for your waitress. “What do you want?” He asks, holding his hand out to keep you seated. You smile at his overprotective nature. “Just another drink,” you shake your empty glass at him, clinking the ice.

”I’ll get it for you.” Cassian says, desperate for you to stay put. You give him an exasperated look, “I’m a big girl, Cass. I can get it.” Before he can protest you head over to the bar for the V.I.P section.

Ordering your drink you check the time on your phone. It’s been almost an hour. Eris has never dragged a meeting on this long, even if it was urgent. Letting out a sigh you lean on the bar, tapping your manicured nails on beat with the music pulsing through the club.

A throat clearing sounds next to you, making your shoulders tense like Azriel’s when he receives unpleasant news. With lowered brows you turn to face the source of the grating noise. A man, of course, in a wrinkled button up shirt and dress pants that clearly aren’t tailored. His proximity and scent of his cologne making your nose wrinkle.

“Can I help you?” Your voice flat and uninterested. The man smirked as he leaned on the bar next to you. “Just thought I’d come say hi. I saw you with your pretty friends over there, maybe you’d like to join us.” He gestures to a booth behind yours. No drinks, so they must’ve just arrived. Being with Azriel has taught you be very perceptive of people and your surroundings. Not that your boyfriend was paranoid, he just wanted you to be able to spot danger.

You roll your eyes you look back at the man in front of you. “No thanks.” You say curtly, no longer interested in entertaining this man's delusions.

His eyes roam over your body, one of his brows rising as he smirks. The look made you want to vomit on his cheap shoes. “Come on now sweetheart,” he brushes a finger down your cheek and you quickly take two steps back, his touch slimy and foreign. His demeanor changes quickly, anger flashing across his face as he steps toward you. No must be a word he never hears, whether that be his selective hearing or not.

Out of the corner of your eye a dark mass moves with lightning speed. Gripping the man's arm Azriel twists and pins him to the sleek wooden bar. The man lets out a whimper of pain. Pathetic.

“Do you know who I am?” He growled. “Answer me,” Azriel said with more aggression, shoving the man further into the bar. “Yes,” his voice barely above a whisper thanks to how squished his face is.

“Then you know I protect what’s mine. If I ever see you in my club again you will regret it. Get out.” Azriel let go and Rhys swooped in, guiding the man and his friends to the exit before a fight could break out.

You fling yourself into Azriel’s arms, shaken by what just happened and the what ifs had Azriel not shown up. He ran a gentle hand up and down your spine, holding you tightly to his body. “It’s alright, my love. I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” He coos. Taking a deep inhale of his comforting, warm scent you look up at him.

“Are you alright?” He asks, worry clouding his warm hazel eyes as he takes you in. Searching his memory of you from earlier that night to make sure nothing was out of place. “I’m ok. My dark knight came to the rescue.” A genuine smile pulling at your lips as your fear melts away. The comfort of Azriel’s familiar touch washing away the memory of the unnamed man.

“Do you want to go home? I can have Cass bring the car-’’ You press your finger to his lips to stop him. “Absolutely not. I haven’t danced with you yet and we’re having fun. I’m not going to let some asshole ruin what’s supposed to be a celebration tonight.” The guilt for not being glued to your side hasn’t left Azriel’s face yet. “I promise my dear, I am fine.”

Azriel finally relaxed, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry Eris kept me for so long. I’m yours for the rest of the night, I swear it, my love.” Azriel slowly kisses you. Wrapping his arm around you Az leads you back to the booth.

Sitting, he pulls you on to his lap, trapping you with his arms as he kisses and bites at your jawline. Making sure he’s marked you appropriately, the twin to your still vibrant lipstick stain decorating his tan skin.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel au #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #azriel #mob!azriel #mob!azriel au

[writingroom21]

The Nanny

Pairing: rafe x nanny reader

Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: 18+, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (Practice safe sex), cream pie, slapping, chocking, squirting, use of daddy

Wc: 5.3K

Chapter 3: Guess we're both broken

Waking up the next morning, you tossed over to the otherside, noticing the sheets were cold. Peaking through sleep coated eyes you realize that Rafe is gone. Sitting Up you look around the room, his shirt and shorts gone as well. Not surprised that he was gone, a sinking feeling is in your chest, he used you. Once again you are left knowing that you shouldn’t have thought anything else. Should have known him being on his best behavior recently was just another ploy to sleep with you, knowing that he won. 

The rest of the day was spent moping around Tannyhill, grateful that you didn’t need to see him. Sarah being the only person you see when she stops by to get some of her things before running off again to stir up trouble. The day was so uneventful that you even decided to go to your parents cookout. Which turned out as awful as you expected it to go.

Reaching your childhood home you can see your neighbors scattered around the lawn. You notice your dad on the grill talking to one of the other dad, most likely talking about what rub or glaze he used this time. Walking around you greeted a few people who stopped you to ask how work is going. “That Cameron boy is causing you any trouble is he?” If only you knew, you thought. “No he’s not. They are all really respectful to me.” In hindsight it wasn’t a lie, they have been really nice making you feel welcomed. If the past two nights hadn’t happened you wouldn’t be so apprehensive to say it, but they did happen.

Everything seemed to be going well until you reached your mom. She was talking to some of her friends when she saw you walking their way. “Well if it isn’t my precious little angel. Hardly recognize you since we never see you.” She chuckles, trying to mask the insult with laughter. Taking a deep breath you give her a hug. “I know, I’m sorry. Been trying to visit but it’s been hectic.” Saying hi to the rest of the group was met with few words, some of them not replying at all. “How much work can it really be? The young one is practically an adult herself.” Your mom has a way of making everything you do seem insignificant or an inconvenience to her, your job being one of them. 

“You’d be surprised. Wheeze is a saint but she does give me a run for my money. I should go say hi to dad before he feels left out.” With that you walked off to greet your dad. The rest of the night was a never ending cycle of your parents making small jabs at you. Making you and the rest of the party uncomfortable every time they spoke. The cherry on the cake was when they pulled off to the side just as you were about to leave. “Sweetie, we need to ask you something and before you start getting mad you need to agree to hear us out.” Your dad says sitting on the couch looking at you, your mom next to him nodding along to his words. “Okay.”

“So you see we really need to fix up the house. You know how bad the AC is, you would have better luck keeping the fridge door open then that thing working.” Oh god you can already see where this is going, eyes rolling waiting for them to ask you for money. “Don’t roll your eyes at us, we are your parents.” Your mother scolded. “Anyway.” your dad continues. “We don’t have the money to get it fixed. The mortgage is barely even being covered as it is, we just need you to spot us some money. Just enough to get us going.” Taking a deep breath and cooling your nerves. “How much?” you ask.

“4,000.” Your eyes widen at the price, that's a whole month's worth of pay, let alone you don’t have that on you right now due to helping them out. “4,000? You need me to give you 4,000 dollars? By when?” The questions shootout at them. “Yes 4,000 and we need it now preferably.” So that’s why they invited you today, not because they miss you like they claim but because they need money. “I don’t have that kind of money on me or in my account.” “What do you mean you don’t have that money? What’s the point of working for some kooks if they don’t pay you well.” Your dad scoffs turning and looking at your mom. “What did I tell you? I told you she wouldn’t help us.”

This really can’t be happening right now. You have been working since you were 14 to contribute to the bills, every paycheck going straight into their hands. “I have been helping you. I’ve been helping you for the past six years with every bill in this house.” “We never asked you to do that.” Your mother rebuttals, taking another sip from the glass of wine in her hand. “Yes you have!.” you exclaim. “You are literally asking me for 4,000 dollars as we speak. Every time you ask me for money I hand it over without making a fuss, but this I can’t do. I have my own expenses, you know.”

“What expenses? All of a sudden you live in a fancy mansion and you’re too good to help out your parents.” Your dad’s words hurt you. You have tried to be their perfect daughter your whole life. The perfect grade, the scholarship, then declining the scholarship because they begged you not to go. Every life choice you’ve made has been to cater them and their wants. “Yes, dad, my expenses. I have my own car that I pay for by myself, a car loan as well, I even have to buy my own groceries. Then on top of that I send the both of you practically all of my paychecks. I’ve been scraping by trying to make it all work, why can’t the two of you just realize I can’t do this.” Your pleas fall onto deaf ears as they both get up from the couch. “If you aren’t willing to help us then there’s nothing left to talk about. You know where the door is.”

Watching as the walk away tears threaten to spill from your eyes. The drive back to Tannyhill seemed longer than it usually did. The conversation played on repeat throughout the whole drive. Parking your car you rush to the front door, all you want to do is lay in your bed and cry. Tears are already falling from your eyes as you close the front door. “Well what do we have here, country club? This that nanny you keep hiding from me?” You recognize the voice, you’ve seen and heard him around Tanny when Rose or Ward is gone. Barry is his name you think not really caring to find out you just walk down the hall. “Not much of a talker I see.”

“Leave her alone.” Rafe’s voice makes your ears perk up. Even though every muscle in your body is telling you to keep walking and not to look at him, you cave. Eyes meeting he can see the tears in them. “You okay, sunny?” You can’t do this right now, can’t get caught up in him just for him to leave once again. Without saying a word you brush past him, bounding up the stairs to the second floor. But before you can slam your bedroom door you can hear Barry talk. “The fuck you do to her?”

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The next morning you had yourself locked in your room just thinking. First about your parents and then about Rafe, then your parents and Rafe once again. It was torture having to sit in the room replaying ever interaction to see where things went wrong. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell you about the Rafe situation but it might for your parents. 

Looking at the clock by the bed you see that it's almost one in the afternoon. Deciding that you can’t sit her a mope for the rest of your life, you get up and get ready. Ward had given you a membership to the country club when you first started, he thought it would be better since you can accompany Wheezie when she goes. A nice relaxing day at the club, eating the fancy food is just what you needed.

It didn’t take long to get there or to find a seat by the pool, most of the people are on the golf course anyway. The only people by the pool are the wives that have kids and the teens who were there for the lifeguard. Stripping from clothes you are left in the red bikini you wore, you put on some sunscreen before laying down on the lounge chair soaking up the rays. 

The sun feels nice against your skin, the heat relaxing your tense muscles finally being given a break. After about thirty minutes you flip over allowing your back to tan, not wanting to be uneven. The sound of kids laughing and the busy club lull you into a peaceful mind. So what if your parents are upset? You have done more than enough to help them out over the years, you can’t keep digging them out of their messes. Who even knows where most of the money you send them goes, it’s definitely not toward the house.

So what if Rafe is a dick who just uses girls and dumps them to the side? You can’t control who he is and clearly he just wanted to hookup nothing more. All that you can do now is just keep to yourself, it’s better to protect your peace then being his new play thing. Then why does it hurt? Shaking off the thoughts you notice how hot you started to get. 

The sun is beating down on you, sweat forming on your skin causing you to stick to the chair. Getting up you head into the pool, the cold warmer cooling you off as you float. You didn’t know this but a few feet away on the dining patio sat Rafe with Topper and Kelce. Rafe was half listening while the two boys talked about something he didn’t care about. His mind kept bringing back the picture of your crying face from last night.

As soon as Barry left he went straight to your room but the door was locked. He sat there for a second and heard nothing from the otherside of the door, assuming you went to bed he left for his room. When he woke up this morning it was all that he could think of, seeing you like that hurt him. You looked like he did after his dad made him feel less of, the thought of you feeling like that made his blood boil. But showing you he cared shows that he needs you, that he actually cares for, that’s not who he is.

No Rafe is the type of guy that fucks everything in his life up, dropped out of school, is a failure to his dad and in relationships. That's what he’s good at, you’ll see it eventually so why even try? Looking out to the course, he can see the pool from here, looking at all the bodies laying around. The red swimsuit draws his eyes down your body, recognizing you as you walk out the pool. The water drips down your stomach, down your legs, but the droplet in between your breasts has him staring. 

Rafe isn’t the only one staring, the few teen boys are staring, then there’s the lifeguard. Rafe remembers him from school and doesn’t like the fact he’s staring at you. He watches as you dry yourself off, putting the shirt and shirt you wore back on. Looking as you gather your things and escape his view as you leave, the boys gather his attention. “Dude are you even listening?” His eyes move back to them “Yeah.” 

You make your way through the halls, carding through your memory to remember how to get to the dining. As you walk, members of the club look at you, judging you for the way your shirt has wet spots from your swimsuit and hair. You decide to sit at the bar not wanting to deal with anyone today. “How can I help you m’lady.” You put the menu down to meet JJ’s gaze. “Oh my god! Jayj hi.” You squeal, catching the attention of patrons including Rafe. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while. Joining the darkside has really changed you.” He looks around before leaning a bit closer. “How is it on the other side? Miss us already?” He teases. “Of course I miss all of you.” You playful push his shoulder, JJ raises his hands up in surrender before resting his body weight on the bar counter arms next to yours. Rafe stares in shock at the scene playing in front of him. You, his girl, flirting with fucking Maybank of all people.

He sees JJ push a piece of hair behind your hair and you giggle. The chair scraping against the floor alerted the boys, he didn’t even realize he was even up and walking over to the two of you. “Where are you going?” Kelce calls out to him. “I’ll be right back.” As he gets closer he can hear your conversation more clearly. “You should come to the bonfire this week. I’ll make it worth your time.” JJ flirts, Rafe coming up right behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Looking over your shoulder you can see the look of anger on his face and the smirk painted on JJ's face. 

“Sunny! I didn’t know you were going to be here. Maybank why don’t you run along and get me another drink.” He says with a condescending tone, glaring at the blonde boy. “Rafe.” You say as a warning, already seeing how this is going to end. “What? I’m just asking the help to do his job. Right Maybank?” “I was actually helping out this beautiful customer. Ain’t that right baby?” JJ remarks getting closer to you. The look on Rafe’s face could probably kill JJ if he tried hard enough.

Rafe leans against the counter, his body facing you. “You really slumming it around with this loser? You like being around trash?” His comment made you see red.  How fucking dare he? You knew he kinda took the kook and pogue thing seriously but to call them trash. It’s like he forgets that you are also a pogue, that if it wasn’t for his father you would still be living on the cut with the rest of them. Which is true, he doesn't see you as a pogue or the help. 

To him you’re a kook, you belong with them, with him. “Yes I do. Now this trash is going to take itself out like the “help” do.” You say quoting help as a reminder that you also are the help. “I’ll see you around Jayj.” You tell the blonde looking at you with worried eyes before storming off. “Yeah see ya.” He calls out looking at Rafe for a moment. “Man I knew you were dumb but god damn. That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen you do.” He laughs and walks away to go serve other customers. Rafe knows he’s right, potentially just fucked up whatever the two of you had before it actually really started. More than he has already done by ignoring you for the past day and a half.

He makes his way back to the table, the guys watching as he takes out a wad of cash and throwing it on the table. “I gotta go.” He exclaims, rushing to try and catch you before you have the chance to fully leave. Racing out of the building he sees you in the distance looking for your car. Jogging he catches up to you grabbing your arm and yanking you back to him. “Let go of of me!” You yell at him turning and pushing his chest hard. “No! Come one just talk to me.” He exclaims fighting you to make you stay and hear him out. “Are you kidding me? Talk it out? You just insulted me and my friend.” “No I insulted him. I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

You scoff pulling your arm free from his grip. “So calling him trash just because he’s a pogue doesn’t insult me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m also a pogue. I came from the cut just like he does. Does that shit actually really mean something to you? Are you that fucking stupid?” Rafe’s been called stupid many times in his life, from Ward, his sisters, hell even Rose has called him stupid. He knows that he makes things difficult and not many people like him. But hearing you call him stupid fills him with more rage then seeing Maybank think he can have his girl. “Hey don’t you fucking dare. Say whatever every the fuck you want but I ain’t stupid you fucking hear me.” 

He grips your cheeks, pinching them together. “Don’t you ever call be stupid again got it?” You should be scared, you’ve seen his temper before, seen him throw shit around the house or get into a fight with people at parties. You don’t know what to do being on the receiving end of his anger, then his words ring in your ear making you angry all over again. That ache in your pants is ignored as you wrench your head out of his hand. “I don’t know what your problem is but if you put your hands on me again you’ll regret it. You think just because everyone else is scared of you that I will be too? News flash buddy I’m not.” “Don’t call me buddy.” His voice was weaker than it was when he was yelling. 

“You don’t get it.” He states turning away from you and letting you go. “You’re right I don’t. You don’t talk to me for two days completely ignoring me after you got what you wanted. Then when I’m catching up with a friend you come in guns blazing as if the world is about to end. What’s wro-“ “He was touching and flirting with you.” He cuts off your rant, stunning you into silence. “So what if he was?” Rafe’s eyes darken hearing you defend him, telling him you actually enjoyed the attention that you were getting from another guy. “So what?” He laughs differently from his normal one, darker than what you are used to.

 “You really think I want some other guy touching you? Do you fuck him too?” “You’re jealous?” You meant it as a statement but it came out more like a question. “Yeah I’m jealous. All those guys in there would give up all their money just to get a chance with you. You don’t know them like I do, they would jump at the chance to get with a beautiful girl.” This is the third time he’s insinuated you are beautiful in some way. “Well maybe I should give them a shot. You obviously” His lips crash to yours, not allowing you to finish. This is different from the other kisses you’ve shared, more intense. He’s trying to tell you he’s scared of losing you, a crazy thought considering you aren’t even his.

How can he feel so strongly for you than he already did? It’s no secret that he’s always had a thing for you but this is different. The thought of you leaving him for another person actually terrifies him. Everyone has left him and he can’t stand the thought of you being another person who walks away. You try fighting him again but all efforts die when his tongue makes its way into your mouth. Rafe has this effect on you that you can’t explain.

There was always this soft spot for him but now that the lines have muddled together it’s hard to separate your feelings. Arms wrap around his shoulder pulling the two of you closer to each other, bodies pressed together. He pulls away from you for a second allowing the two of you to catch your breaths.  “Get in the car. I’ll meet you back at the house.” Fully pulling away you straighten out your clothes that got a little skewed from making out. He goes to walk to his truck, you stop him. “You can’t just get upset like that and make a scene. If this thing between us is going to work you have to talk to me, okay?” Eyes softening looking at your expression he takes a step forward placing a kiss on your forehead. “Okay.” With that he walks away leaving you standing in the middle of the parking lot wondering what the hell just happened.

The both of you race back to Tanny, Rafe’s truck behind your car. Reaching the house, you make your way inside waiting for him to get here, you lost him at a red light on the way over. You go to the kitchen to get water, the sound of the front door opens, Rafe’s footsteps echoing through the hall. “You think you can just go around and flirt with people?” He’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, white polo stretching around his biceps. “I thought we talk-” “No I’m not done.” He enters the room, staring at your body with dark eyes. “Strip.”

The grip on the water bottle tightens. “What?” Rafe is now in front of you, taking the water from your hands, whipping the stray drop on your lips. His thumb gently pulls your bottom lip before releasing it. “Strip and get on your knees. I need to teach you a lesson, I don’t like people thinking they can have what’s mine.” You look at him before following the instructions, staring up at him as he unbuttons his pants to take his dick out.

“Open.” You do without a second thought. “Good girl.” He mumbles, forcing himself in and setting a brutal pace. You have to catch yourself on his thighs just so you don’t fall, his hand holding you in place. Hips thrusting into you, your throat gladly accepts the intrusion, gargling on his length. Tears pooling on your bottom lashes, spilling down your cheeks, making Rafe go harder on you. “Look at you. A mess of spit and tears for my cock. Think maybank can do this for you?”

He’s still on about what happened at the club, to tell the truth you were too. His jealousy causes mixed emotions in you. On one instance you like seeing how possessive he was for you, on the other he resorts to insults to get his way. You give him a rough suck, eyes meeting his. “Fuck.” Rafe pulls out, yanking you up and bending you over the kitchen island. His body covering yours as he lines himself up, you're so wet that you aren’t worried about the pain. You were sure that he would fit, no preparation needed. “Told you I would bend you over and fuck the shit out of you.”

With that he slammed into you, moaning at the feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate his size. He halts when he’s ball deep, giving you a moment to gather yourself, only a moment. His thrust pushes you further into the island, sure enough to leave marks on your hip tomorrow morning. You don’t even care, he feels too good, the feeling of him stretching you is overwhelming. Whimpers keep leaving your mouth. Rafe grabs your arms, using them as leverage to fuck you harder as he keeps them pinned behind you back by one hand.

“Harder.” You moan out. Your body tingling from all the pleasure he’s giving you, your peak creeping around the corner embarrassingly fast. “Yeah? My little slut wants me to fuck her faster?” The degradation goes straight to your clit, walls fluttering around his length. He goes harder for a few minutes before pulling out, a whine of protest leaving you. “You don’t get to cum yet.” Rafe’s hot breath in your ear, his body heat leaving you too. 

He turns you around and hoists you onto the island, spreading your legs to step in between them. Left hand going to guide himself back into you, gliding across your fold to get you hip and bring you closer to the edge. In this angle he hits you deep, pushing against your cervix with each thrust.

Wrapping a hand around your neck, he squeezes lightly just enough to have your mind all fuzzy. You roll your eyes back grasping onto his bicep, manicured nails digging into his flesh leaving crest shaped marks. Rafe hisses at the sensation enjoying the flash of pain radiating in his arm. He starts fucking you hard, pounding into you having his dick spear into your g-spot. His unoccupied hand takes hold of your hair, pulling you till your foreheads are pressed together. His watch digging into the back of your neck, chested firmly pressed to each other, sharing each breath.

 “Squeezing my dick so fucking good baby. Can you hear how bad your pussy needs it?” Rafe moans out. You can, you’re so wet that every time he fucks into you squelching fills the room. You open your mouth but a particular thrust makes you moan instead. The hand in your hair retracts, your head leaning back slightly, it comes down on your cheek. It wasn’t hard enough to really hurt but enough to have pain heat your face. You moan liking the feeling of the smack, mostly just enjoying the fact that he lost himself to the point of causing a bit of pain. 

“You like me hitting you baby?” When you moan he smacks you again, annoyed that you won’t speak. “Use your words.” Rafe’s hand cupping your jaw staring at your fucked out expression, the hand around your neck tightens as his pace increases. You’re wetness mixing with his pre-cum leaking out of you, making a mess between you two. “I like it sir.” It comes out more like a breath but it counts. “My good little girl. You gonna cum for me? Hmm cum for daddy.” The new nickname was the nail in the coffin, the tightness in your belly finally snapping.

 This feeling was a new thought. It was so intense and it didn’t feel like an orgasim that you’ve had before. Your walls squeeze rage so tight that it pushes him out of you, your release gushing out getting everything wet. “Did you just fucking squirt?” Rafe pushes his dick back in, fucking you harder than before. “Such a dirty fucking slut, squirting and getting everything wet.” Moans keep getting pulled from you, pouring out into his mouth as he sloppily kisses you. “Oh fu-fuck… I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it.” “Inside please.” 

If telling him to cum inside you didn’t make him cum, it was the please that did it. Rafe ruts into you, hips stuttering as he fills you with each squirt of him cum. The warm feeling making you moan and flutter against him. He rides out both of your highs, hips finally stopping when they met yours, keeping you plugged. He want to stay there, wants to just feel you, wrapping his arms around your body. He’s enjoying knowing you are stuffed full of him, that his cum is so deep that it's forced out around him. Pulling out slowly you both hiss, you at the feeling of him spilling from you, and him as he’s fixated watching it come out. 

Kissing you for a moment, Rafe pulls away walking to the sink, wetting a rag before going back to clean you up. The touch is so gentle that it barely hurts. He helps you put your clothes back on dragging the both of you over to the living room. He throws himself down on the couch taking you along with him, pulling you closer . “What happened last night.” You hand playing with his shirt stops. “Huh?” Moving your head to his shoulder you look him in the eyes. “You were crying last night. What happened?” 

“Oh” Trying to shift away from him, being blocked by his arms tightening keeping you in place. “It was just some fight with my parents. It’s nothing.” “It is something, it made you cry.” You wish he would stop trying to pry, it’s not as if he cares. Honestly you expected him to flee once your clothes were back on. Pulling you to the couch was unexpected but asking you to talk about your parents was too much. Too personal. The lines of friendship and having feelings are already getting muddled as it is, this would just push it further. 

“Hey.” It’s soft, lips brushing my forehead before he places a kiss there. “You said we have to communicate, right? Talk to me.” With a sigh you tell him everything. How since you were barely able to work you gave them all your money last night. “They expected me to just hand over 4,000 dollars like it’s nothing. Then when I finally put my foot down I’m a disappointment. Nothing I do anymore is right.” Rafe’s hand rubs your arms trying to soothe you. 

“You aren’t a disappointment. If they can’t handle the fact you have your own life then fuck them.” You slap his chest lightly. “I’m serious. You’ve done more than enough for them, if they can’t see that then it’s their loss." A moment of silence, his words soaking in as you both lay there. “Thank you. I” You don’t know what else to say, fingers tracing shapes along his chest. 

“I know what you’re feeling. My dad um he always lets me know how much of a fuck up I am. I know what it’s like to be a disappointment, you don’t even come close.” The confession felt foreign on his tongue. Rafe never opened up to anyone about his feelings, anytime he tried he was met with a “man up” or “this is how a man handles things”, he’s scared of what you will say. He feels you slip from his arms, closing his eyes not wanting to see you leave him alone, trying to calm the burning behind his eyelids. 

“I don’t think you’re a failure.” Blue eye’s open to meet yours, there’s a hint of vulnerability from what you can see. You lean down pecking his lips, pulling away to get a better look of him. “You’re more than what he sees. It’s a shame he doesn’t take the time to notice.” It was your turn to leave him without words. He’s searching your eyes, your face, for any sign that you were lying. That you were pitying him after he devolved a hidden secret. He knows you’ve heard his Dad yell at him but this is different. 

He can put on a mask after talking to Ward when he has to see you. This time he tore the mask off, wanting you to see him without the facade. “I don’t think that about you.” “Huh?” You respond with confusion filling your face. “I don’t think that you’re trash. You are probably the best thing to come out of Outer Banks.” He’s not lying or at least you don’t think he is. The look in his eyes tells you that he actually means it so you smile down at him. “The best thing huh.” You tease. “Don’t push it.”

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #outer banks smut #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey smut #drew starkey fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction

[justagalwhowrites]

What was lost...

Joel can't seem to shake you, even when he knows you're dead and gone. A canon Lavender one shot set in between chapters 8 and 9, a few months before Joel and Tommy arrive in Boston.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender

Length: 2.3k

Warnings: Angst. This is pure angst, I'm sorry. Imagined canon-typical violence. Mention of sex. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.

A/N: I got this idea from an anonymous ask when I wrote about wanting to write Joel with a dead reader and they suggested writing Joel when he thought Doc was dead. SHE IS NOT REALLY DEAD, OK? Joel thinks she's dead. She's not dead. Doc is fine. She's in Boston calling QZs looking for Joel, working at the school and the clinic, and being codependent with Andrew. It's OK. I promise.

July 2008

I’ll always love you, Joel. Til the day I die.

Joel woke with a start. 

It was still dark, the moon full and high, and for half a glorious second, he thought it was you asleep against him. That the two of you were camping with Sarah and you would sense him in your sleep and reach back to put a hand at his waist and tug him closer.

He asked you once if you knew you did that, that when he woke and sat up in the night that you would reach for him until you found him and pull him back to you where he belonged, always with a little satisfied sigh. As though him being close was all you needed in the world, even when you were unconscious. 

You’d laughed when he asked, tucking your chin like you wanted to hide from it. 

“God, I’m sorry!” You said as you caught your breath. “I had no idea I did that! I promise, I won’t hunt you down in my sleep if you pull away from me…” 

Joel had laughed a little, too. 

“Don’t apologize,” he’d said. “Like it when you keep me in line.” 

“Good,” you smiled, teasing and sitting up a little straighter. “You’d better.” 

But it wasn’t you, of course. It hadn’t been you for five years. Five years to the goddamn day. 

Joel wished he’d lose track of the fucking date but he couldn’t seem to. Every time he seemed to get close, they’d have to do something like coordinate a raid on a FEDRA caravan and he’d be set back on track, his brain always keeping count. 

He wanted to forget his birthday the most. If there was any mercy left in the world, he’d have never seen another one after 36 but here he was, closing in on 41 and still marking time. 

He wished he could forget Sarah’s birthday, too. And yours. 

But, strangely, July 18 was the second hardest day for him. It was the last day the three of you were together. The last time he’d heard your voice right beside him, the last time he’d held you, the last time he had nuzzled into your hair and your skin and breathed in the lavender scent of you. 

The body next to him didn’t smell like lavender. She didn’t fit against his body like you did, either. She didn’t sound like you or taste like you or feel like you. But she was close and warm and wanted him and he’d given in. He almost always did. Because what they offered wasn’t sex, not really. It was a chance to forget, for a moment. If she looked like you, it was a chance to pretend, too. 

This one didn’t look much like you, though. He’d closed his eyes during because it didn’t seem to matter that you’d been dead for years, it still felt wrong to be with anyone besides you. It didn’t make much difference. She didn’t feel like you. He’d pulled out and finished with his hand, thinking about how you felt that day five years ago in the water. 

“Everything OK?” The woman beside him sounded groggy. 

He couldn’t remember her name. 

“Fine,” he said quietly. “Just takin’ over the watch. Go back to sleep.” 

She just shrugged and settled on the ground again as Joel worked his way through the woods, finding Tommy walking the perimeter of where they’d stopped for the night. 

“You got another two hours to sleep,” Tommy said, frowning in the moonlight. 

“I’m awake,” Joel said. “May as well take over.” 

Tommy gave him a look for a moment before he sighed. 

“S’long as you’re OK,” he said, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “Should be good for a while, just did a sweep.” 

Joel just gave him a nod and Tommy made his way back to camp as Joel settled into a notch in some roots, his back resting against the trunk of a tree. 

“She’s not me, you know.” 

Your voice was so close beside him it would have made him jump if it were any other sound. But it was you. 

He was used to this by now, the way you haunted him on days like this. 

He wasn’t sure why you’d hung on in ways Sarah hadn’t. Maybe because he knew what happened to her, knew where her body had gone cold.

He’d spent so much time trying to drown out that memory - to shove it away, suffocate it, anything to keep it from taking over - that he thought he might have pushed all of her aside with it. He didn’t hear her voice as often anymore, didn’t picture her there next to him either. 

You were another story. His mind seemed to enjoy torturing him when it came to you. He’d pictured your death so many times now, the imagined memory of it finding him in his sleep on so many nights. 

Tonight had been one of those nights. This time, you’d died at the hands of a man like him. You had your backpack on, the one Joel had told you to pack, and you were walking where he’d told you to go. He could see you so clearly, your hair in braids with ribbons on the ends and your cheeks with smears of dirt like you sometimes got when camping. You’d tried to beg for your pack because Joel had told you it was important and then you tried to beg for your life because he’d told you that was important, too. 

It hadn’t worked. 

You’d been in the man’s grip, his knife at your throat and your eyes found Joel’s and you said the same thing to him you always did before you died at the hands of whatever monster he’d left you to suffer: 

I’ll always love you, Joel. Til the day I die.

“Don’t expect her to be you,” Joel said quietly, refusing to look at the ghost beside him. He didn’t need to. He knew what you’d look like, down to the jeans you were wearing and how many buttons were done up on your shirt. You always came to him in the form you’d been in the last time he’d seen you, when you waved to him as you passed through airport security on your way back to New York five years ago today. 

“I wonder why you’re always let down then,” you sounded almost smug. It didn’t sound right on your voice. You were so rarely smug. He’d made you mean in death. 

“Does it matter?” He asked. 

“I guess not,” you said. “Just thought you’d have found something better to do by now. It’s been five years, Joel.” 

He turned to look at you then. You were sitting close enough to him that, if you were real, he would feel the heat of you there. 

But there was no warmth to be found in a ghost. 

“Know how long it’s been,” he said gruffly. 

“Well, you probably deserve to torture yourself a little,” you sighed, no longer looking at him and out at the forest instead. “It’s your fault I died the way I did, you know.” 

That’s how he knew it was all in his head. You’d never say that to him. 

Even if it was true. 

“I know.” 

He sat in silence for a few minutes, refusing to look at you, speak to you even though he sometimes wondered if falling into his delusions would be the best he could hope for in this life. Nothing else would measure up to you. He knew that. He would, for the rest of his life, regret not being beside you when the world ended. He would, for the rest of his life, compare every woman he ever met to you. He would, for the rest of his life, wish for something he could never have because he’d done nothing but fucking fail the only people in the world who mattered. Now, you were both out of reach.

“I miss you, you know,” you said eventually, quietly. “I missed you when I died, too.” 

Joel didn’t say anything. He just clenched his jaw. 

“I was alone,” you said. “I was scared. You know how I got panic attacks, imagine how bad it would have been then…” 

“Stop.” 

“How I would have looked for you…” 

“Stop it.” 

“How I would have been worried about you, even as they killed me I would have been worrying for you…” 

“SHUT UP!” 

He yelled it, finally looking at you again. But you weren’t what he expected. At least, not in how you were looking at him. 

So often when he pictured you now, when you spoke to him like this - when he was sleep deprived but couldn’t rest and was in desperate need of some kind of solace - there was an almost vicious look on your face. He didn’t think he’d ever seen you look like that when you were alive, it was an expression entirely of his mind’s invention. You had never been cruel or even really aggressive in life but he couldn’t think of you without it. It hurt too much to see you kind. 

But you looked earnest and sad now, so like the real you, like he was worthy of your pity for the first time in five years. It was like his heart beat for the first time since he’d held his daughter’s body.

“You never even looked for me, Joel,” you said softly. “I could have made it, you know.” 

He shook his head. 

“Don’t say that. Don’t put that thought in me, don’t…” 

“I could have. You can’t know, not really. Why did you give up on me? Why didn’t you come find me? Save me?” 

“How would you have lived?” He asked, meaning to sound angry but he couldn’t. “How would you have fucking made it through that? What was I supposed to find? What was I supposed to save?” 

You just shrugged. 

“If you really think I’m gone, why didn’t you join me? Join her?” 

He looked straight ahead. 

“I tried.” 

“You flinched.” 

He hung his head, clenched his jaw. Yes, he’d failed at that, too.

“Is this really how you’re going to spend your life, Joel?” You sounded like you. He could almost feel the gentle brush of your fingers on his neck. He still knew your touch so well, he still compared every woman he ever felt to that touch. “Hurting people and killing people and suffering yourself? Do you think this is what I would want for you?” 

He looked to the side, as far from you as he could without leaving you. 

“You could try something else,” you said after a moment. 

He looked back to you again. You were still so beautiful. Even dead, you were beautiful. 

“Try what?” He asked. “What other fuckin’ options do I have?” 

“You could go to a QZ,” you shrugged. “Try to be a person again. Have a life.” 

He scoffed.

“What’s the point?” 

“What’s the point of any of it?” You asked. “You flinched, Joel. There must be a reason for it. Do you really think you’re going to find it out here, like this? Become yourself again, become the man I loved so much that I begged him to stay, even when he told me I wasn’t worth staying for. I know you can.” 

Joel thought for a moment. 

What if you were right? What if there was still some kind of meaning to this fucked up world he was trapped in? It didn’t seem possible, not really. But you were impossible, too. You’d been impossible before the world ended and yet you’d existed. You had existed and you had chosen him. 

“You loved me once,” you said softly. 

“I still love you,” he said. “Always will.” 

“Then try. For me. OK?” 

You were looking at him, so full of hope and love that he couldn’t say no. He could never say no, not to you. 

He took a deep breath. 

“OK.” 

You smiled and you were beautiful, still so beautiful. 

“Thank you,” you said before you took a deep breath and turned your face toward the full moon like you were basking in the sun. “I think it’s time for me to go. But I’ll see you soon.” 

He huffed, cynical, looking in front of again.

“Sure you’ll be back when I’m too tired to think straight,” he said. 

“I’m sure I will,” he heard the smile in your voice. “But who knows? Maybe you won’t need me anymore, not once you find yourself again.” 

He looked at you, frowning. 

“What…” 

“Take care of yourself for me,” you leaned in so close, close enough that, if you were real, he would feel the brush of your lips on his and smell the lavender of your shampoo. “I’ll always love you, Joel. Til the day I die.” 

You were gone before he had a chance to respond, nothing but air and silence, the echo of a ghost in your wake. 

He sighed and leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to think. Maybe a QZ wasn’t a terrible idea. They’d heard some halfway decent things about Boston lately. If they started heading that way now, they could be there before the snow flies. 

And Boston, at least, was a new city. A place he’d never been, where there were no ghosts to haunt him. It was a good a place as any to try to become a person again. It was a good a place as any to try to move past you. 

Joel settled in to his watch, deciding to talk to Tommy in the morning. He’d be on board. He always was, when Joel made up his mind. 

And who knows, maybe he would find something in Boston worth flinching for. 

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #lavender #joel miller x oc #angst #lavenderversary

[sturnsbabie]

EXPOSED-N.DOE

pairing: nate x sls!reader

summary: sls gets her wisdom teeth out and exposes her secret relationship with her brothers bestfriend nate.

warnings: cussing,mentions of needles,suggestive.

inspired by the anons on @hysteria-things blog this for you nate nation 🤗😋

short n rushed so id have something to post 😜

today i was getting my wisdom teeth removed. i was scared to go under anesthesia and to get a iv in my arm but my brothers were going with me.

they were filming the video for their youtube channel because i said it was okay to vlog but i was nervous for what was gonna come out my mouth when being on anesthesia because i was hiding stuff from my brothers. like the fact that their bestfriend nate and i have been together for over seven months secretly.

we were on our way to the dentist office as i sat in the back with nick. they were still vlogging, currently getting my thoughts on what was going to happen.

finally we had reached the dentist office and i was sat in the dentist chair as they were getting ready to put the needle in my arm for the iv.

“okay y/n we are gonna put the iv in you and inject the medicine into to it a little bit at a time to see how you do.” the doctor explained.

i nodded as matt held my hand distracting me from the fact that the needle was going in my hand. nick and chris also kept talking at me distracting me.

i started to feel sleepy as my brothers kept talking to me but i couldn’t understand what they were saying as i fell into a deep sleep.

they stayed in the room for a minute while the doctors made sure i was completely out before they started the surgery.

matt was comfortingly rubbing my shoulders talking as chris held my hand and nick was recording.

after a while the doctors had my brothers go wait in the waiting room as they did my surgery.

about half a hour later they allowed my brothers to come back into the room after they finished my surgery and i was starting to wake up.

“hey y/n!”they all three said and i just glared at them.

“looks like someone still has her attitude” chris chuckled and i flipped him off.

all three of my brothers laughed as i rolled my eyes at them. the only thing on my mind being my boyfriend nate.not wanting anything else other then being in bed with him. with my face in the pillow while he pounds me into the mattress.

the doctor was talking to my brothers about how to take care of me and what i need to do for the next few weeks. as i kept thinking about my boyfriend.

“you wanna send a video to nate?” chris asked and i immediately smiled.

“nateee? i love nateeeee” i giggled.

they all laughed and shrugged it off as they figured she meant that she loved him like a brother because she was close with nate but oh boy they were wrong.

chris started recording the video for nate. “hey nate im here with y/n she just got her wisdom teeth out and she had something to say.”he said as he moved the phone over to the girl.

“hi nate! callllll meeee i need to tell you a secretttt!” she giggled into the phone as chris sent the video.

suddenly her phone started to ring and nick was holding her phone. he saw that nate<3 was facetiming her and he immediately accepted the call.

nick knew about the two because he walked in on them right as they were kissing. he promised he would not tell matt or chris because he respected his sisters privacy.

“hey y/n nates calling you!”nick said as he handed her the phone.

she smiled as she looked at the phone screen seeing nates face. “nateeeeeee”she giggled.

“hey y/n how’re you feeling!?”he asked softly as he admired the girl still thinking she looked beautiful even with a swollen face and a mouth full of gauze.

“im great!sorry i cant suck your dickkkkk anymore for a few weeks though” the girl said as she forgot about her brothers not knowing.too gone on the anesthesia to stop whatever she wanted to come out of her mouth.

nates face went red as he stayed silent knowing her brothers were probably gonna freak out.

“WHAT?”chris said as he couldnt believe what the girl just said.

“what do you mean you cant do that anymore for a few weeks youre not supposed to be doing it anyway!” chris said.

matt was in shock about what his sister had just said. chris was going into overprotective brother mode trying to grab the phone from her and nick was just laughing watching everything happen. he knew he was gonna have to cut this bit out of the video.

“cant wait til i can suck your dick again and watch you whimper and beg for me to-“the girl said as chris cut her off.

nates face was blood red as he listened to the girls brothers talking from the other end of the phone.

“seriously what the fuck is going on between you and nate?” chris said as he looked at her.

“hes my boyfrienddddd but you’re not supposed to know thattt chris!”she said rolling her eyes and flipping him off.

nick was laughing as this was pure comedy to him as chris was going on a rage.

“next time he comes over imma beat his ass”chris says with a hint of playfulness in his voice.

chris was mad that they had hid this from him nick and matt but then he couldnt be mad at how gentle and calm nate is with the girl.

and with that once they got the girl back home there was nate waiting for her with some ice cream and a bunch of cuddles with her name on them.of course chris told them to keep her door open so he could keep an eye on them.

the girl got countless cuddles and she ate all the ice cream in the world as her boyfriend was by her side along with her brothers checking on her every so often.

TAGLIST: @eupiasworld , @sturniolosloves , @mattslovelygf , @smittensturniolos , @hauntedxchris , @hearts4tatemcrae , @bernardsbendystraws , @jo-777 , @wurlibydominicfike , @meerkatzthings , @jnkvivi , @sturnzblog , @pinklittleflower , @sturnioloblogs

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets imagines #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo imagines #matt sturniolo imagines #nate doe imagines #nate doe #nathan doe smut

[tulipsforvin]

if you dont mind me requesting another... may i request where the s/o reader is a noble with a really kind heart, like she owns a bakery and she loves to give pastries or breads to the peasants for free, and another noble didn't like it and burn the bakery down? how would the brothers react? you can do it with any of the moriarty brothers! sorry if its too detailed :]

NOBLE F!READER'S BAKERY BURNS DOWN ✦

🌷: reactions featuring the moriarty brothers

🌷: why have only 1 when you can have all 3? this is so unnecessary but i thought i'd spoil you (all) a bit. p.s you're fine, don't worry :)

⚠️: CW! slight desc of gore in william's part, skip if uncomfortable.

WILLIAM J. MORIARTY ‧₊˚✩彡

— it was the kindness you had that had him first crawling to you. being a noble you could have done many things; plan extravagant balls and tea parties, spend money on all sorts of items. but instead you opened a bakery, giving away baked goods for free. he had become distressingly attracted to you.

william's red glaring and gleaming eyes could be seen from miles away. he thought he'd drop by your workplace during his lunch break from university. he thought he'd enjoy a small meal and a small conversation with you, but instead he had to watch from feet apart as final, dying embers fell to the ground. the bakery that you and he loved was gone.

“will—” you sobbed, practically falling apart in your lover's arms. you had worked incredibly hard for this, only for all your blood, sweat and tears to be turned to ashes at the mere tantrum of an angered man.

“oh, my love.” william cooed sympathetically. his fingers tightened around you. he was quiet, but his narrowed eyes and tight jaw was enough to indicate what was about to happen in the near future.

over the next few days, which had not really took that long at all—he was able to track down the noble who had dared ruined your efforts and made you cry.

a man as corrupt as the noble who had burned down your bakery was more than enough to irk him. making you cry was another contributing factor to tip him off. just as the man unable to tolerate the warmth of kindness that you provided, william set all of his means of income ablaze. and just as blind he was to dismiss the happiness that appeared on the common people's faces, he made sure to gouge out the man's eyes so that he could see nothing at all.

and perhaps he might have gone a little overboard with his ways in his wrath—but he reasoned that if it were the divine themselves who brought forth tears from your eyes, not even the depths of damnation could hold him back from extracting retribution on your behalf. nobody could, would or should harm you.

ALBERT J. MORIARTY ‧₊˚✩彡

— during every visit of his to the orphanages he would find you already there, distributing all kinds of pastries and bread to the little kids. he found your kindness and charitable personality extremely charming. he had fallen in love with you.

fast forward to a few months and he had already begun wooing you. imagine his anger as he watched the happy-go-lucky and overall wonderful person he'd fallen deeply in love with lose their smile once their bakery had been burned at the hands of a dirty noble.

albert wouldn't just stand by. he was subtle—wore a charming smile but used his expert tongue to slowly chip away at the respect others had of the noble. it was backhanded compliments at first, then small insults that he brushed off as a joke, and then full on accusations as public opinion of him began to dive low at an alarmingly fast rate.

by the time he was done the noble was stripped from all respect and sympathy, forced to live an isolated life from others and unable to show face to anybody ever again.

of course he wouldn't stop at just that, though. he holds out his hand at you, warm and enveloping fingers wrapping around you as he pulls you up from your sadness. (and he always will). “how about i chip in enough funds to help you rebuild your bakery?”

“no, you already do enough for me anyway.” it would be extremely expensive. you possibly couldn't ask him to do this, but he seemed to have other plans.

albert smiles, voice teasing but comforting all the same. “then, how about this; i pay for all the repairs and you let me eat for free whenever in the future?”

LOUIS J. MORIARTY ‧₊˚✩彡

— it was a secret but sometimes louis went out of his way to see you. even if the sun had already begun to set he would walk an extra mile to buy grocery from a grocery shop that was situated right besides your bakery. on several occasions he would watch you, in all your kindness, feed the mouths that came to you and it honestly warmed his heart to no degree.

with a few pushes from his brothers he had finally began dating you. he loved you dearly and everybody knew he became violently devoted when he loved.

now if we push aside the obvious assassination attempts on that "imbecile of a man" (his words, not mine) by louis and his colleagues trying to hold him back, he's actually quite tame. again, only if we push aside the homicidal factors like the anonymous death threats and the bloody knives sent to the noble.

with a little help from his brothers, you're back on your own feet again (louis sacrificed the noble's legs in exchange). and louis even drops by every now and then to help you with baking and other works!

“do you need help with that?” he looks at you from behind your shoulder, watching you do your work.

“nope, i'm fine.” you smile up at him but he still grabs the batter from you and does it in your stead.

“how about you go sit down and enjoy a glass of cold juice or something similar of the sort?” he says calmly, already putting on an extra apron.

and in the end, you oblige as louis guides you out the room. because at the end of the day, not everybody can make lemon tarts as good as he does anyway.

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #william james moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #william james moriarty x you #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty x you #albert james moriarty #albert james moriarty x reader #louis james moriarty x you #louis james moriarty x reader #louis james moriarty

[certifiedl0verboy]

twelve days of kolowv: day 12

my baby @theapocryphaofantares's birthday is in twelve days, and because i love him with all my heart he gets a small microfic every day until he gets his big present on his actual birthday.

day 12: note | jegulus | words: 994

Regulus is going to kill James Potter.

He doesn’t know when he’ll do it, or how he’ll do it, but just know that he will do it at some point.

James sits behind him in the one class that they have together, which is some bogus history course that Regulus is taking as an elective. Why James is taking this class? He has no idea, considering that James is in the science program and more than likely finished all of his pre requisites. He tries not to pay attention to James—he ignores him the best that he can.

However, since day one of this semester, James has gone out of his way to throw little pieces of paper at Regulus’ head. It’s annoying, especially when Regulus turns around and sees James with a stupid grin on his face like he won something. Sometimes he’ll do it twice, but usually when that happens, Regulus will choose to not even bother to look back. He refuses to give James that satisfaction.

But today? Today, James does it three times. It’s been two months of this, and yeah, sure, once, Regulus expects it. Twice? It’s rare, but it does happen. Three? That makes Regulus want to rip James’ head off of his body. He turns around while the professor is still talking away about ancient civilization and gives James the deadliest glare he could.

“What?” Regulus hisses at him. “What do you want?”

James leans forward, and that horrible, god awful smirk growing on his face. “Your attention.”

Regulus is baffled, because what kind of answer was that?

“So you throw paper at my head?”

“If you bothered to actually open them up, you’d see that they’re notes.”

“What makes you think—”

“Is there a problem over there, Mr. Potter and Mr. Black?” Professor Slughorn asks, raising an eyebrow. Everyone has their heads turned to them, and Regulus can feel his face growing warm. “Anything you’d like to share?”

“No, not at all, sir,” James replies. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Professor Slughorn takes a few seconds before speaking again. Regulus shifts in his seat, looking around to see if he can at least try and move to a different area where James wouldn’t be able to follow and sit behind him next time. He goes back to taking his notes, scribbling whatever words were coming out of Professor Slughorn’s mouth. The only reason why he stops is because he feels something hit his head again, and he sees the crumbled paper fall next to his foot.

Regulus sighs before picking it up. He carefully opens up the crumbled piece of paper and frowns because he can’t fucking read what this note even says. It’s all shitty handwriting and creases and smeared blue ink. Regulus looks behind him to see James give him a confused look.

“What does this even say?” Regulus whispers, holding up the note to show James.

“It says meet me after class.”

Regulus turns his attention back to the front of the classroom where Professor Slughorn is passionately speaking to a student who had just asked a question. He looks down at the note in his hand and runs his thumb over the words, shaking his head.

* * *

“What do you want?” Regulus asks James once class is over.

They’re standing in the hallway of the lecture hall, trying to stay out of the way of everyone leaving.

“Is it wrong to just want to talk to you?”

“Do you have a reason to talk to me?”

“Do I need to have a reason?” James asks, smiling. Regulus rolls his eyes, because he’s not going to fall for this shit. Absolutely not. He’s not going to fall for James’ toothy smile and how his chocolate eyes glisten in this stupid yellow light from the hallway ceiling and he’s definitely not going to fall for the way that James runs his fingers through his unruly hair. “I just wanted to say hi, check in, see how you’re doing is all.”

“And that warrants you throwing paper at my head?”

“I told you there were notes,” James replies, shrugging. “Not my fault you didn’t bother to actually look at them. There were some important things I said, too.”

“Can you just cut the bullshit and tell me what you want?” Regulus asks. “I don’t have time for this, I have another class to get to—”

“Go on a date with me,” James says, cutting him off. “Just one.”

Regulus is frozen in place, because that’s definitely not what he was expecting to come out of James’ mouth. James Potter, his brother’s best friend, wants to take him out on a date and Regulus wants to refuse. Oh, he wants to see James crumble at him saying no—

“What were in the notes?”

“Me trying to ask you out on a date.”

“Why?” Regulus asks.

“Why not?” James rebuts. “Let me show you a good time. I have it all planned out.”

“What makes you think I’m going to say yes to you?”

“Because you won’t say no.”

“Excuse me?” Regulus asks, baffled.

“You heard me,” James says. “You won’t say no.”

And Regulus hates that James is right. He steps closer to Regulus, bringing his hand on Regulus’ face and tilts his chin up, making eye contact. Regulus can see the determination in his eyes, and he’s practically speechless at this point because he didn’t think that James would be this fucking ballsy. He should’ve known better, though. When James Potter wants something, he won’t stop until he gets it.

“Fine,” Regulus murmurs, pulling away from James. “Just one.”

“Perfect,” James says. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something nice.”

Regulus watches as James walks away from him, and for Christ’s sake.

Regulus is so fucked.

#kolowv tag <3 #12 days of kolowv #microfic #jegulus #starchaser #fanfiction #the marauders #the marauders era #james potter x regulus black #regulus black x james potter #sunseeker #india's writing #james potter #regulus black #harry potter

[sugarsnappeases]

snippet!!

thank you to my dearest most precious beloved angels @sixlane @themuseoftheviolets @quillkiller @effiepotterisamilf @orbitfalls for the tags <33 sorry about how late this is but i come bearing a long-ish bartylily snippet to maybe make up for that... everyone say hiiiii library fic!! it is sooo happening baby

There’s someone in the back room, a man lounging in one of the chairs around the little circular table. Specifically in the chair which she normally sits in when she eats her breaktime yoghurts, but she supposes she doesn’t really have a claim to it, being as she’s been gone for two months, and it’s not actually her chair. She doesn’t recognise this man though, and he doesn’t look at all like the kind of person you might expect or want to find in a library, let alone in the back room as if he were an employee.  He doesn’t look over as she comes in, just keeps flipping a stack of coasters up off the edge of the table and catching them mid-air, as if he were at a pub instead of in the back room of Lily’s library, flipping beer-mats instead of Ms. Pince’s nice ceramic coasters.  She takes her coat off and hangs it on the same hook as always, the second one from the left, wondering if she should do something about this stranger who she thinks might be trespassing, in a library of all places. He’s wearing a kind of grotty, oversized hoodie that’s definitely seen better days, judging from it’s off-grey colour and how mangled the cuffs are, and what might be the tightest pair of black jeans she’s ever seen, replete with rips and a chain, clinging to what might be the longest pair of legs she’s ever seen. He’s like if one of those ‘unconventional’ editorial models had been living in a skip for a few years, like if the guy that you saw out with a different girl every single time you went to the club had done a truly heinous home dye job and turned emo.  He is not the sort of man that Lily would ever want to have in her immediate vicinity. And he’s sitting in Lily’s chair, in Lily’s library, encroaching on the sanctity of it. Not to mention messing with Ms. Pince’s fancy coasters. “Excuse me,” she says, because, really, he had nearly dropped the stack with that last flip and she can’t just let some random man hang around in the employee-only area.  He glances over at her, still flipping the fucking coasters, looks her up and down, and then grins. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at her, grinning widely, teeth on display, eyes lit up like she’s just told him that he’s won the lottery. He has annoyingly perfect teeth.  Lily frowns, “What are you doing?”

no pressure tags for some more of my dearest most precious beloved angels @inevitablestars @static-radio-ao3 @fernhelm @itsjaywalkers @carniferous

#does the coaster-stack-flipping thing make sense?? not sure if that's a thing that actually happens outside of the people i know..... #it's really hard tho you guys should try it i can never stack more than like two... i imagine barty would be very good at it #anyway #LIBRARY FIC!!!!! VERY EXCITED AND PASSIONATE ABOUT HER!!! SHE HAS BEEN A PART OF ME FOR SO VERY LONG #and it's gonna be so very long until she actually sees the light of ao3 but still!! proceedings have begun!!! #bartylily #tag games #kara’s snippets #library fic

[hermannsthumb]

Please please please more "Fake Dating for Funding"! I haven't read much PR stuff in the last few years and your newest piece jerked me right back to that old standby hyperfixation. It's so cute!!

answering this sooooo late, OOPS SORRY, but here's a little ficlet as i try to get myself back in the writing groove.... the original fake dating for funding fic is right here, but i was thinking over plot concepts earlier and this one made me laugh, LMAO

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

"I have a favor to ask of you," Hermann says one morning.

Typical of Hermann, it's blunt and to the point, no show of bartering or sweetening Newt up with dessert or anything like that. In theory Newt should be annoyed, but Hermann indebts himself to Newt so rarely (and never willingly) that Newt’s actually kind of interested to see where this goes. He pushes up his work goggles and strips off his gloves without a second thought.

Hermann is standing directly over Newt’s side of the yellow line, one hand balled into a fist while the other white-knuckles his cane, his shoulders hunched over. He looks extremely uncomfortable. On the other hand Hermann rarely looks comfortable, so this isn’t anything new, or something to draw immediate conclusions from.

“Okay,” Newt says. “Lay it on me.”

“I would not blame you if you found yourself thinking less of me,” Hermann says, “or outright rejecting the proposition. I’m aware it is far more than one typically asks of a…” He swallows. “Colleague.”

The word hangs awkwardly in the air between them. It’s not that it’s an inaccurate descriptor, but it doesn’t completely encompass the, uh, reality of things, being that they were a litttttle more than colleagues up until two months ago. (Not that they called themselves anything other than colleagues for the duration of that whole—indiscretion. It was a little confusing.)

Still, Hermann’s groveling, and Newt’s interested. “Oh, sweet,” he says, maybe a little too casually. Just two bros having a normal conversation about how they're nothing more than colleagues. “I’m totally in. What are we doing? Is it illegal or something?”

He could actually use Hermann’s mad computer hacker skills for something in the near future—Newt wants unrestricted card access to the typically very restricted hazardous materials storage in the jaeger bay for reasons he’s not going to disclose—and doing something illegal for the guy would be a great way to get him to do something illegal for Newt in return. In a favor-for-favor way more than a blackmail way, because Newt mostly isn't a dick. And anyway, maybe doing some platonic fun k-science bonding time will be good for them. Make things a little less tense. Newt’s been working on that really hard lately, mostly because his multiple Shatterdome transfer requests have been outright denied by the Marshal and he seems to be out of alternatives.

“No,” Hermann says.

He looks at his shoes. He’s about two unlucky inches away from stepping on a piece of kaiju spleen Newt dropped earlier and forgot about, and the fact that he’s not taking any precautions to shield his precious ugly wingtips tells Newt he means business. “Perhaps a little…morally questionable.”

“Oooh, Hermann, you’re such a tease,” Newt says. He tosses his nasty gloves in the trash can and scoots Hermann towards the cluster of their desks with a hand to the small of his back, ignoring the way Hermann bristles and digs the end of his cane halfheartedly into the floor. “Come on, come on, I’ll make coffee, stop looking so depressed.”

He does make himself a coffee but brews a quick cup of black tea for Hermann, which turns out to be kind of a waste of his time, since Hermann blatantly ignores the mug Newt slides in front of him. He’s gone from looking like the most emo librarian in the world to looking vaguely nauseous. If circumstances weren’t as they are, Newt might say it was making him look exceptionally alluring—that whole sickly Victorian lad thing really gets him going. “If you’ve forgotten,” Hermann says, “we’ve another of those foolish PPDC fundraisers soon, at the end of the month.”

“Oh.” Newt leans back in his chair, a little disappointed. “Is that it?”

“Yes,” Hermann says. “No.” He shakes his head gravely. He’s so dramatic sometimes, it’s kinda cute. “It is the root of the problem, but not the entirety of it. You’ll recall, I presume, how badly in need of funding we are, myself in particular for the Breach-mapping software I am attempting to develop.”

Newt does recall, because yeah, he is also in need of funding real bad. Can’t make awesome, ground-breaking advancements in the field of kaiju biology without any kaiju bits to study the biology of. That spleen currently threatening to ooze over the yellow tape line represents approximately sixty percent of Newt's remaining currently viable samples. “Uh, yeah?”

“I have,” Hermann makes a face, “a working theory, so to speak. You’ll further recall the similar PPDC event we attended in August of last year?”

“Yeah?”

“And the one we attended this year, in the week following our—”

“Yeah, Hermann, I remember.”

“Right,” Hermann says.

Newt remembers the second one more clearly than he likes, because having to make nice with Hermann to present a united front six days after a very, very stupid argument about Newt maaaaybe stealing half of Hermann’s sandwich—which ultimately led to a mutual and spur of the moment decision to dissolve the whole weird lab partners-with-benefits thing they had going on—was one of the more uncomfortable experiences of his career. Still, he made as nice as he could, because his supply of work gloves and Keurig pods were running dangerously low and he didn’t feel like shelling out the money from his own abysmally small paycheck for any.

He doesn’t know what was so significant about the other one they went to though, the one last August. It was humid. Newt remembers being so hot he had to take off his tie, and he lost it somewhere in the convention center afterwards. He misses that tie. Hermann hated it, which makes him culprit number one in its disappearance.

“We drew in significantly more donations in August than we did two months ago,” Hermann says, and opens the top drawer of his desk to produce a neat stack of papers, which he spreads in front of Newt to reveal a series of color-coded spreadsheets.

Newt’s eyes glaze over a little at the sight. He doesn’t bother extending the effort to confirm Hermann’s data—as much as he hates to admit it, the guy is thorough with his numbers and rarely wrong about stuff like this. He flips through it anyway to appease him. And, honestly, he thinks Hermann’s feelings would be hurt if he didn’t, and Newt really is committed to being a good labmate (y’know, for the very brief time being). “And prior to August,” Hermann continues, “you’ll note that the average sum total of donations we received per event was significantly lower. August was an anomaly.”

“Sure,” Newt says. “So what?”

Hermann slides the spreadsheet back into his desk, pulls his dorky glasses off, and exhales slowly: he’s getting to the point. Newt has a hunch what that point might be, but Hermann always looks funny when he gets into lecture mode, and Newt doesn’t want to interrupt it.

“I believe,” Hermann says, “that our—relationship status, which was significantly different on that occasion as compared to the rest—might possibly have had no small influence, for one reason or another. We certainly behaved more, er, affectionately, or tenderly around each other, and perhaps others took note and found it charming. Or some such thing. Of course I can't draw any conclusions from a single point of data, but I believe if we were to... Well, it's a bit silly, hearing myself now.”

“You want me to be your fake b-f so we can trick people into giving a shit about us and shake them down easier,” Newt says.

The tips of Hermann’s generous ears go red. “I’m aware it’s an unusual request,” he says, “especially considering… recent certain developments in our working relationship.”

It’s not exactly the fun platonic bonding time Newt anticipated, but he has a hunch Hermann might be on to something—the whole doomed romance, give us money so our love has a fighting chance of surviving the apocalypse thing, which they were apparently already inadvertently playing up. He’s willing to give it a shot. Making a joke out of it might actually help Newt let go of his last lingering nostalgia for that super brief period of time he and Hermann got up to after-hours hijinks and were almost amicable with each other. And, you know, on the other hand, if that doesn’t work, he could totally do the opposite of moving on and revel in the opportunity to do couple-y tender things with Hermann again.

“Yeah, sure,” Newt says. Real chill about it. He’s so chill, man.

Hermann blinks at him owlishly, clearly taken aback, but says nothing.

“It’ll be fun,” Newt adds. “It’s a good plan, great idea, it’ll totally work. Nothing has to be weird, right? I mean, it’s not like we were really even dating before or anything. There’s no reason for it to be weird. It’s definitely not for me. Is it for you?”

“No, er, of course not,” Hermann says. “It was my idea, wasn’t it?”

They’re totally over each other, but they can also totally pretend they’re not for a night or two, no sweat. “Cool,” Newt says, and repeats, maybe to convince himself, “It’ll be fun. We can dress up all fancy and wear matching ties or something and talk about how tragic we are. I’ll grab your ass in front of people and you can brag about how cool and smart and sexy I am.”

“You are not doing that,” Hermann says, “and I am not doing that. When have I ever—oh, nevermind. I am not averse to the neckties, however, especially if it means you’re at least attempting to look somewhat professional for our prospective—”

“Dude, come on, you totally just think I look hot in a suit.”

The splotchy red flush spreads from Hermann’s ears to his neck as he scowls at Newt. He doesn’t bother denying it: Newt’s sure they both vividly remember the most recent annual k-science research symposium when Newt finally let himself be talked into renting a fancy blazer, to look, uh, like the expert in your field you are, Newton, and Hermann had such a hard time keeping his hands off Newt in increasingly unchaste ways that they had to duck out early. I like when you look put-together and competent, Hermann said, or something along those lines, there was a lot of kissing going on and Newt wasn’t exactly paying attention to specifics. He ended up losing the deposit on the suit—which is why he stole the sandwich in the first place, actually. Very petty revenge. Full circle.

“Piss off,” Hermann grumbles.

“We’re gonna have to put in for just one hotel room if we wanna sell it, you know,” Newt says, the realization suddenly hitting him. “Maybe even one bed. It’ll look totally suspicious if we don’t, right?”

Hermann meets his eyes for a few awkward, quiet seconds, and then they both quickly look away from each other. Newt stands up and makes a show of gathering their untouched mugs, both of which have gone extremely cold. Hermann slips his glasses back on and opens up his desk drawer to shuffle through his immaculate spreadsheets again, pretending to look for errors that they both know aren't there.

“We’ve,” Hermann finally says, and then clears his throat. “We’ve survived worse. I'm sure we can manage. It’s only for two nights, after all.”

“Yeah, totally,” Newt says.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #FINISHED A FIC AT LAST.... #sailoreuterpe

[elyfonart]

taking the 'oblivious' trope to a whole new level..

#also hello again!!!! #sorry i was gone for like a little over a month #i dont really have an excuse other than exams and teen wolf #so expect a bunch of teen wolf fanart because i cannot stop drawing for dead/old fandoms :// #also yes #this is a flimsy excuse for me to draw #katara #sokka #zuko #in fancy clothes #shut up #avatar #zukka #zukka art #zukka comic #zukka incorrect quotes #atla art #atla #atla comic #a:tla #avatar the legend of korra

[heartorbit]

a mob of emus for an artstyle game on twt! ^_^

#project sekai #emu otori #the usernames are all their public twts so if you use that evil platform check out their art ^_^ #many of them are on here with the same users even.. be gone from my sight vile bird #the one on the bottom right is Mine but ive never had an artstyle in my life so it may not be obvious to the viewers. sorry. #pjsk #prsk #proseka #only my beautiful mutuals beautiful art can make me do LINEART #i was going to ask on here but realized i dont have mutuals bc this is a side blog. sniffle. hell on earth #I dont have much to scream in the tags. semester is almost over. Im sleepy. I designed emu a huge seord for an assignment #but the 3d model turned out Bad. it looks ok from the top but you turn it and see Problems. #its been a month or so since i modelled that and i have gotten better so i want to try again with no time crunch + pressure #its a fun looking sword. magical girl sword type shit #EVERY TIME I THINK ABOUT THE LITTLE PRINCE WXS STUFF I END UP AWAKE UNTIL 3AM BECAUse it GETS TO ME #WAAAAAAAAAUHGH. I HAVE CLASS IN 11 HOURS #GOODNIGHT. IT WILL BE AS IF ALL THE STARS WERE LAUGHING. #oh my god wait i did this this weekend bc i was like yaay i have a weekend without any assignments due #I just forgot abt one. Bc my email hasnt been working properly and didnt send me the reminder for it. i will spend my tuesdah drawing a gun

[britneyshakespeare]

He won't leave my fucking friends alone.

#tales from diana #sorry this is about that bad friend i have to break up w that ive posted abt on and off the past couple weeks/months maybe #i still have to send him that final 'i dont wanna speak to you ever again' #ive been fucking busy ok. my summer has been full of family events and obligations #i have one brother getting married and the other having a baby!!! i have a LIFE and SHIT TO DO and PPL TO BE THERE FOR other than YOU!!! #i havent spoken to him in over 2 months too and he knows it's bc i don't want to #he's so difficult bc you can't fucking tell him the truth. you can't!!! he can't handle it!!! do you know how hard it is to handle??? #the things i have to do to cut him off. because he doesn't respect normal fucking boundaries. make ME feel like im in the wrong #like im the shady person and the liar. #i can't drift from him bc hell pull me back #i can't communicate w him bc he won't hear anything i have to say he'll just turn it around & make it abt himself. #he literally does not understand ppl having motivations to do things that don't relate to him #and he has no sympathy for what he does to other ppl. nothing but self-pity for how they don't like him anymore. #if he dealt w someone who put him through half of what he put ME through. no he couldn't actually. #i only allowed him to manipulate me for so long because i cared abt him. who i thought he was. #and he just point blank period doesn't care about other ppl. so he could never go through what ive gone through w him. #i feel like all this friend breakup has proven to me is that im actually a good person and it can be used against me by ppl who arent #some fucking lesson i needed to learn huh? #i hate feeling as negatively towards anyone as i do towards him. it's so hard for me not to have at least #a little spark of hope deep down for everyone. even ppl ive removed from my life before. i dont HATE them #theyve disappointed me or insulted me or mistreated me but at least their motivations seemed simple and clear #and MOST of them seemed to understand SOMEWHAT that they were in the wrong #even if they don't admit it to me or still find an excuse to hate me. whatever #i can see them as ppl who might feel remorse someday and grow from it #i do not see it in this guy. bc if you have a problem w him he'll only make it 20 times worse. #he's so selfish it genuinely baffles me to think about it. and he's one of the least honest ppl ive ever known. #he'll never see the error of his ways. i do not believe he has that capacity. #and will i say none of this to him? no #im just going to say thanks for leaving me alone these past couple months. it's been good for me. #i don't think i can continue our friendship anymore for my own sake.

[mattodore]

best part of having ocs is that i can just write them doing whatever i want. like i can just do anything with them and it's like oh yeah. that's happening. and no one can be like hang on you can't do that bc actually i can since they're mine <3

#river dipping #like hell yeah brother of course i make aus for my ocs and daydream about them as like. vampires or whatever #anyway hello :) i really meant it when i said the suck session finale would put me out of commission for a few days #there's a ton to catch up on i bet but i'll take my time with it... tho i will be checking on kmik and valentine gen. 3 EXPEDITIOUSLY #i'm actually busy in google docs atm tho!! i'm using oc questionnaires to further flesh out mattodore. i 100% yoinked these questions #from an ask game i saw. there's like... sixty of them? theo's doc is already like 2k long and i still have ten more questions to answer... #matthias's questionnaire is finished but now i feel bad that his is only 1.8k so i might go back and add more... #sorry matthias </3 maybe be a little more nuanced as a character next time #i'll probably be posting these here actually so i can put them in my oc extras tag... tho idk how well the formatting will carry over #what else... oh i finally started working on editing the photos i took of mattodore back in march (and showed a bit of before) #i don't think i'm going to edit them as intensely as i did my pinned post bc that was... very time consuming... but we'll see #i wound up selecting just eight photos but that's still eight photos to edit so... hm. idk when i'll post 'em #oh and it's pride month!! so i'm determined to at least try to make the two final characters from echthroi this month... #i think i'm kind of getting an image of jackson going now but everett still alludes me... i'm also thinking abt changing her name #these two have gone through so many changes in the last seven months character-wise... fdgfhjkfgh #dutchie too tbf like his name originally was EDWIN... smh #OH....... and i see i have messages i need to reply to i'm sawrry </3 i will get to them........... i swear................................

[fortune-maiden]

I know this scene isn’t supposed to be anything more than a throwaway gag for Kinshirou’s bad luck

but can I just say how much I hate this gag as a fanfic writer? xD

#boueibu #because of how the japanese school year works S2 E10 has to take place on Feb 28/29 #because Binan Land closes at the end of the month and Ep 9 took place on Valentines day #at the end of Ep 10 the club comes back to Kurotama and finds that Goura is gone #so this calendar gives us two options: Kinshirou was being haunted since February and it took 2+ weeks for him to send the email #or this is March and Goura has been missing for 2 weeks (and the twins have just...... not done anything) #(option C: it's still the beginning of march and kinshirou's bad luck caused him to rip the calendar to this page) #sorry i am way too fixated on little details like this xD #(on a side note there was indeed a Feb/March Friday the 13th in 2015) #(so assuming aliens haven't messed with the calendar in boueibu verse boueibu took place over the 2014-2015 school year xD)

[just-rogi]

.

#like I’m sorry #I love my best friend so so so much and she’s perfect and kind and has gone above and beyond to be rational and to be there for me #and I get it she’s an autistic woman and has faced adversity and has had to go on medical leave and that’s hard #and I’m not being dismissive of her struggles #but it makes me so angry because her parents unconditionally love her and her siblings and have always made her feel that way #and has never worried about money as a kid #and yeah her relationship with her parents isn’t perfect of course #but she literally cannot understand domestic violence beyond just reading about it in a book #like she did everything she can to understand and relate #but sometimes I want to scream because I feel so alone #because no one in my life fucking understands why I’m the way I am #and I’ve been struggling the past two months really badly with coping #I’ve had to go to the doctor to ask about PTSD and not like the tik tok OWO kind #but the I was in a car crash as a kid with my dad as a drunk driver and I keep getting flashbacks in my daily life to being a small child #that are impacting by daily life and interactions #and like I feel so fucking alone #and to hear from my friends ‘your right this is horrible and toxic but lots of people go through this’ ISNT FUCKING HELPING #I don’t want to hear that it’s normal I want to feel fucking safe in my bedroom without my mother blowing up my phone or calling the cops #I am unwell and I’m so stressed and I’m so sick and I can’t cope with this and none of the therapists I’ve tried to find handle ptsd #especially not therapists of color #I’m angry and I’ve been getting worse over the past two months #and not that it matters but due to ^^^ reasons my birthday has always been insanely fucking bad for me #like depression watch bad. when I turned twenty I was vividly hallucinating while walking around campus for a week straight having #flashbacks in class and I had to be taken out of the auditorium because I was physically unwell and couldn’t stop crying and shaking #and I told my friend I didn’t want to celebrate I just wanted to sit on her couch and not be alone and she fucking ditched me #because an emergency with a different friend came up the night before #like I have a history of suicidal ideation traumatic flashbacks eating disorders and self harm and I’m asking you to be with me on a very #upsetting day and you call me the night before telling me we have to cancel because another friend is having a bigger crisis #and like you don’t even feel a little bad about it?? #I’m just upset and scared and I’ve got a doctors appointment tomorrow and I’m not in reality right now and that’s scary