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#you didn’t ask but i sure am thinking about it
chastiefoul · 3 days
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mischievous streak | neuvilette
just another day of you pining over neuvilette and poor wriothesley has to hear all about it. (dw neuvilette makes an appearance!!) fluff. crack. this one is so unserious. 0.7k words
“and when he said ‘oratrice oratrice mecanique d'analyse’ did you hear it, wrio?” you swooned, another day of fanning over the iudex of fountaine to your best friend,  wriothesley.
“did you?” the duke replied increduosly, as if not really getting the reason why that was the part you’re fawning over. “oh and when he declared ‘guilty’ verdict with such conviction and charisma to that person, i wished that was me.” you went on, the conversation was most definitely one-sided.
“...you wished that you’re in a court and getting a ‘guilty’ verdict?” he blinked, not knowing how to react when the things you’re saying gets more insane as each day passed. “well not really, but i am certainly guilty. guilty for wanting to climb him like a-“
wriothesley cut you off with an exaggerated cough.
“you finish that sentence and i’m sending you to the authorities.” you crossed your arm, “you’re the authorities.” he sighed, “yes and i’m not above putting cuffs on you and throw you to one of the cell.”
you gasped, “you wouldn’t. you’d put me in jail because of love?”
“insanity is what you are, (y/n). seriously, just talk to him.” he picked up his cup of tea wanting to take another sip. “and what do i say, that i’ve been in love with him since forever and that i’d give him a limb in exchange for a date?”
“sure. or, you could say you want to get to know him a little better, and ask him out for some lunch?” he said, his pen not stopping on checking the piling documents on his table. “but that’s like super obvious!” you retorted.
“and saying you’d give him one of your limb isn’t...?” he gave you a side-eye before getting back to his paper. “hmm, fair point.” you tapped your chin with your finger. “but he doesn’t seem like the type who’d just go out with anyone, no? i don’t think i’ve ever seen him with someone,” you claimed, thinking back to all the times you passed him accidentally by remembering his schedules.
“you’re right, but i don’t think that’s by his choice though. i think some people just got really intimidated by the idea of casually hanging out with the iudex of fountaine.” he shrugged. “what?! that’s not fair, even though he’s really kind hearted?”
the man in front of you gave you a mocking smile. “yeah, and you’d know hm? since you hang out with him so much,” he teased. “i don’t like you, you’re attacking me for no reason.” you grumbled. wriothesley just chuckled good naturedly before you continued.
“gosh but seriously, he should have someone by his side, don’t you think? someone’s who’s supportive, who will stand by him no matter what. you know, someone like me? i would treat him so good. i would make him food all day, draw him a bubble bath-“
a cough cut you off, you’d think it’s wriothesley and his unwillingness to hear your sincerity about your feelings towards neuvilette, but when you see that his expression was just as startled, you shut your lips.
both of you turned your heads to the end of the stairs and there he is.
neuvilette.
yes, the very one you’ve been crushing on since forever, oh and did i mention you just said you’d draw him a bubble bath?
the tip of his ears was visibly rosy, as he looked like he tried so hard not to look embarrassed or even phased. “i was let in by the guard, i didn’t realize there is another guest.”
you closed your eyes, counting slowly to three because perhaps it would be able to turn back time, even just a little. wriothesley was just covering his mouth, and you’d bet the other limb you have that he’s currently trying his harderst to hold back a laugh.
this is a situation. a situation you need to diffuse fast with your quick thinking.
you turned to wriothesley. “that’s why i said duke, not only you don’t need to reduce my sentence, please don’t let me out from this jail forever. i would endanger the civilians. thank you for your time duke wriothesley, i am now going to go back to my cell.”
hearing that was just the last straw for your best friend, he laughed out loud. doubling over and all that as he clutched his stomach. after a solid two minutes of him just laughing and you facepalmed yourself, wriothesley gained his composure.
“neuvilette, meet (y/n), the all-over supervisor of the fortress of meropide.”
you glared at him before giving the long-haired man your sweetest smile.
“hello, it’s nice to finally see you down here in the flesh, monsieur neuvilette.” you nodded at him in which he replied with a slight smile. “likewise and please, just call me neuvilette.”
neuvilette gave wriothesley a document as he immediately skimmed through it. “i see, well there’s nothing here that i can give an input on better than (y/n), this is more of their expertise.” your head turned so quick as if you heard a blaring alarm. “then, i would appreciate your insight on this matter if you have the time,” neuvilette said as looked at you and there’s no way you could say no.
“of course! perhaps over lunch? it’s the right time, no?” you bounced back, now feeling excited than nervous. he chuckled at the enthusiasm as he agreed. “yes, you’re right. but perhaps you should know i’m not ready yet for someone to draw me a bubble bath after just one lunch.” he put his fist over his mouth, covering his smile. so turned out the iudex of fountaine has a mischievous streak in his personality after all.
that’s nice. not for your already beyond embarrassed state, though.
“wriothesley, just arrest me right now please.”  
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apdreadful · 3 days
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Anyone saying that Tommy is just convenient, he’s just a stepping stone, or Buck is confused and projecting his feelings for Eddie onto Tommy. Denial is not a river in Africa.
Buck didn’t just roll out of bed one morning and decide “I am declaring myself to be bisexual! And starting today, I’m looking for a guy”
Buck has ALWAYS been bisexual. So the whole time we have known Evan Buckley, he has been attracted to men.
However, it’s very likely had never really sat with and processed what to do about that attraction prior to meeting Tommy. Never acted on it prior to Tommy. Never made it as obvious to anyone before Tommy.
In retrospect, the signs were definitely there, before Tommy.
The catalyst for the change? Is Tommy.
He made the conscious decision to go see Tommy when he had no damn reason to. He wasn’t thinking of leaving the 118, he just wanted a reason to see him again. I don’t think Buck actively processing “I want to date this man” he just wanted “something” and Tommy was part of that something. But he had no damn idea how to get his brain wrapped around what exactly he was planning to do with those feelings “Huh, this is more…what do I do now?” Hence the basketball game.
And I don’t know if it was before Tommy came over or if seeing Tommy standing there in his apartment made those pieces finally click into place for Buck.
(Personally I’m leaning toward that “Well not at the same time” response to teaching him Muay Thai. Because there was no mistaking THAT look that Tommy gave him)
Because if you have ever been into someone and are even the tiniest bit queer, you saw that dance for exactly what it was.
The subtle signs, the shifting in atmosphere, the carefully chosen words, way their bodies started mirroring each other as they moved closer.
Tommy having more experience with this dance, started getting the inkling this may be going SOMEWHERE...So he took that chance and dropped the “Well probably not at the same time”with THAT look. That look was a whole sentence.
Now Buck’s awakening bisexuality, understood that look. And those butterflies starting flying and he stepped right up and said “I have been trying to get your attention”
He decided THIS man. Right here. Is the one that I want enough- choose to just lay it all out for.
Now for any baby bi THAT is a big damn leap. Because you think you know..But you don’t have the experience to know if you’re reading the signs right.
Brass Tacks my lovelies is..
Buck wanted Tommy..he wasn’t entirely sure for what. But he knew it was Tommy specifically.
And if you think he’s projecting his feelings about Eddie onto Tommy. Go back and look at that first episode Eddie shows up at the 118 in.
Buck wanted to be in that firefighter calendar, and he saw Eddie as competition to getting that which he wanted. Eddie was his competition. Did he recognize that he was competition because he also looked hot af?
Yep.
So when Tommy catches Bucks interest, once again Buck finds himself in competition against Eddie for the thing he wants, which this time is Tommy’s attention. And because Eddie is his best friend, and he knows Eddie is awesome. In Bucks head, Eddie is worthy competition for Tommy’s attention. It doesn’t matter that Eddie isn’t interested in Tommy the same way Buck is.
If it were Eddie that Buck really wanted, why tf hadn’t he asked Eddie to teach him Muay Thai? They’ve been friends for years. Why had Buck not been interested in the basketball game prior to Tommy’s appearance??
Buck is bi. And it was the hot dish casserole that is Tommy Kinard that made all those little “huh” moments click into “well that’s makes sense” place.
So stop playing at being flat earthers.
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samandcolbyownme · 2 days
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Summary: When reader’s sister is in town to introduce her new beau, all it takes is one drunken night for it to all come crashing down.
Pre-warning: THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN CHEATING. Please do NOT read if you are not fully comfortable with this topic.
Warnings: SMUT18+, CHEATING, Colby cheats with reader, swearing, mentions of alcohol, reader drinking, drunk reader, low key flirting, teasing, sexual innuendos, unprotected sex, rough actions, choking, biting, scratching, hair pulling, ANGSTY, cream pie, fingering, oral (f rec), period and pregnancy talk, mentions of puking, general spice
Disclaimer: I am 100% against cheating. If you cheat on anyone, you’re an awful person. This one shot is 100% fictional and for entertainment purposes only! Nothing about this is real.
Word count: 7.4k | not edited
Enjoy!
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
“Another one?” You laughed into the phone and your mother sighs, “Y/n, sweetie. Be nice. She seems to be serious about this one, this time.”
You laugh slightly, “Mm. I’m sure. She was serious about the last three.”
You loved Mara, your sister, but one thing about her that really bothered you, was that she cycled through guys like a carnival ride. One month she’s in love the next, no guy can ever treat her right.
Blah, blah, blah..
But you’re always there for her, so you’ll be there for her with this one, “Did she tell you who it was?” You ask as you sit up, putting your mom on speaker so you can start packing.
“No, she won’t tell me a thing. I keep asking her for things but all she keeps saying it’s a surprise. Um, she did though, at one point say that you’ll understand why it’s a surprise, but that’s it.”
You pull your suitcase out from your closet, “Hmm.” You walk back over to plop it down on the bed, “That’s so weird. I actually have no idea.”
Your mom hums, “Yeah I have no idea.” She sighs, “So your flight gets in at what time?”
“Eleven a.m. Don’t be late.” You tease and she laughs, “Six months without seeing either of my girls is like six long lifetimes. I promise we won’t be late.”
You tear up slightly at her words, “I’m so excited to come home for a little bit. I miss my mommy.” You laugh and she sniffles, “Yeah. I miss my baby girls.”
You smile and sigh, “Alright well before we get anymore emotional, I’ll see you in a few hours. I love you.”
“I love you. See you soon, baby.”
Your mom hangs up and you get to packing. You hated it, and as much as you tried to stop the habit, you always found yourself packing at one of the very last minutes.
Mara said she was talking to someone new, but was very, very vague with the details about him. No matter how hard your pried and how often you asked, she never gave up anything.
You did know one thing, though. Your sister was pretty, so you knew that who ever the poor sap dating your sister was, wasn’t ugly.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Your flight was getting in two hours earlier than your sisters, but by the time you make it to their house, you’d only have an hour to talk shit with your mom and get caught up on the latest hometown drama.
“No!” You exclaim as you slam your hand on the counter, “She got pregnant with her bosses baby, and baby daddy didn’t know the baby wasn’t his until the birth?”
Your mom nods, “I guess her baby daddy knew she was screwing around prior and had his mind set way before anything.”
“That’s absolutely crazy.” You shake your head and stand up, “I think Mara and her secret boyfriend will be here soon. I’m going to run to the bathroom quick.”
She nods, looking down at her phone, “Oh, they’re pulling into the driveway now.”
You nod and make your way to the bathroom. As you’re washing your hands after, your heart literally felt like it detached from inside your body when you think you hear a certain someone’s voice.
You dry your hands and crack the door, pressing your ear to the slight opening and you hear your dad laugh, “Oh, so like a real life ghostbuster.”
“I mean.” The guy you’re really listening to speaks, “My best friend Sam-“
You close the door and press your back against it, hand gripping the knob so hard your knuckles turn white.
Your heart feels like it isn’t even in your body anymore.
You had no idea how this was happening, how he is here, in your parents house with your fucking sister of all people.
Colby. Brock.
The guy in high school you thought you were going to marry. The guy in high school you snuck out to see at midnight. The guy you gave your V card in the back of your car in high school to.
Your mind was spinning. Your heart was back in your chest and racing hard.
Would he remember you?
He has to know that you’re Mara’s sister, right? There’s no way she could keep him from knowing, you’re posted on her socials.
“Y/n?” Your mom calls at the end of the hall, “Are you coming back out?”
Before you can answer, your sister yells, too, “Yeah, come give your big sissy a hug! I’ve missed you!”
You roll your eyes, opening the door, “I’ll be out in a second.” You close the door and look at yourself in the mirror. There’s no way Mara knew you dated Colby, hell. You didn’t even tell your parents.
It’ll be fine, you convince yourself, it’ll be fine. Just act normal.
You take a deep breath, opening the door. You walk out and slowly walk down the hall. Act normal, you remind yourself, standing up straighter and putting a smile on your face right beside you round the corner.
Yep. That’s Colby, and for some reason, he looked just as shocked as you felt.
Your sister pulls you into a hug, holding you tighter, which only makes you feel more guilty when you don’t drop your stare from Colby’s.
“You look so good!” She cups your cheeks, “I hope this wasn’t, too short of a notice, this was the only time I could get off work.” She steps back and moves next to Colby.
He slings his arm around her waist and you bite down on your cheek. You couldn’t lie and say that you missed his touch. You both really didn’t know what you were doing in high school, but he was still better than some of the fucks you’ve had back where you live now.
God, you wanted him bad. You knew you couldn’t have him, and that’s why these feelings were so intense, right?
You mentally shrug yourself out of your thoughts and move into the living room with everyone else as Colby, what it feels like to you, catches you up on his life.
You feel your heart racing in your chest, trying to keep that sick feeling down as you avoid looking at Colby in any certain way.
You knew if you looked, you wouldn’t be able to look away. He looks, fuck. Beautiful now. He’s tall and a lot more muscular than the last time you seen him.
He was.. dare you say, a work of art?
You knew these next two weeks were going to be hard, especially living under the same roof as the very first person you ever fell in love with.
He didn’t know you liked him that much, so it didn’t really hurt him as much when things ended - or so, it seemed like he was okay.
The last three days, you found that Mara is very, very clingy with Colby. You didn’t want to assume or anything, but you kind of thought you picked up on her doing that when you were around them.
You didn’t really think anything of it, so you just moved on from it. You called up one of your friends and planned a night out with a few of your other old friends.
“What are your guys plans tonight?” Your mom asks as she walks into your room. You sit up, looking down at your phone, “I’m actually going to get ready to go to Tayla’s here soon. I’m going out with a few of my old friends from here.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet.” She smiles, “Your father and I have a work dinner benefit thing and then we’re going out for drinks, so don’t forget to take your key. I don’t know when we’ll be home.”
You nod and your sister walks in, “Did I hear you’re going out tonight with Tayla?”
You laugh, “Yeah. I am.” You look up at her and she tilts her head, “Do you think Colb and I can tag along? We’ve been looking for something to do.”
You see your mom look from your sister to you and you nod, “Yeah, no. That’ll be so fun!” You smile, “I’m going to Tay’s to get ready, but we can all just ride together?”
She smiles as she nods, “I’ll go tell Colby to get ready.”
“I know you probably think I don’t know.” Your mom leans in and your heart drops as she whispers, “But Lesa and I have been close for years, and you know us mom.. we talk.”
You look up at her and she tilts her head, “You still like him don’t you?”
All you can do is nod, but you go right into quietly pleading and begging her not to say anything to anyone, “Please don’t say anything.” You repeat for the fourth time, “I know you said moms talk or whatever, but this.” You shake your head, “Is not for your gossip. I don’t want to hurt Mara like that.”
She brushes hair from your face and sighs, “I know how you’re feeling, sweetheart. I know I didn’t want anyone saying anything, so don’t worry.”
You look up at her and smile, “Thanks, mom..” you sigh, “I have to get my stuff around.”
She smiles, giving your head a quick kiss before she nods, “Be safe tonight. Call if you need a ride.”
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
You kept the whole thing about Colby in from everyone but your mom. You got lucky in the mom department with that one.
Getting around with Tayla wasn’t easy, mainly because she can still read you like a book, “Seriously, y/n. Are you okay?”
You lean back from putting your mascara on, looking over at her, “Yes, T. I’m good. I promise.” You look back at the mirror, “do you have that one top? The black halter top looking one?”
She nods, getting up to grab it, “Can I ask a question?” She reaches out to hand it to you and you look up at her, nodding as you take it.
She walks back over and sits down on her bed. She hesitates for a second, “Is it because Colby is here with your sister?”
You furrow your brow, “Um, no. Why would that be-“
“Because you have a history with Colby.”
You scoff, “Holy fuck. Does everyone know that Colby and I screwed around in high school?” You shake your head and look down.
Tayla moves to the end of the bed and laughs, “You told me yourself, y/n. At the senior bonfire. You admitted you were falling in love with him after one too many shots.”
You laugh slightly, “Yeah.” You nod, “Yeah, that sounds about right.” You scratch your neck and look over at her, “Okay. I’m actually glad you said something because I’ve been dying to talk about this.”
After an hour of filling her in while she got ready, she looked at you, “So he was just as shocked to see you as you were to see him?”
You nod, “He looked like I’m who he wasn’t expecting.” You shrug, “It was weird, it’s all weird actually.” You laugh and groan, “Out of all people, why him? She couldn’t have just left this one alone.”
“Did she or does she know that you and him used to..” Tayla trails off and you shake your head, “Well.. I hope not. If she did, she probably would have said something..”
Your phone goes off and you look down, “They’re ready.”
As you pull up to the house, you look over at Tayla, “Please don’t say anything about it.” She nods, “I won’t. I promise.”
You look over, your heart skipping a beat when you see Colby. His chest slightly exposed from his shirt not being buttoned up all the way. The chains that are hanging from his pants, sway with each step.
He looked so good, you were basically drooling for him.
“Hey.” Tayla nudges you, “Take a picture.” She laughs, “it’ll last longer.”
“Oh my god.” You mumble as you slump down in the seat, “Just.. put me out now.” You hear the back door open and you sit up straight, clearing your throat and your sister and Colby get in.
“Heeey, Tay. How are you?” Mara asks as she closes the door. Tayla nods, “I’m good, how are you?” Mara nods, smiling as she looks at Colby, “I’m good. So, Tayla. This is Colby, Colby. Tayla.”
Colby nods, “Yeah, I remember Tayla from school.”
Oh fuck. Your heart anxiously skips a beat.
“Wait, I know you’re from here, too. But if you went to school with Tayla, then you went to school with-“ Mara points at you and you nod, “I thought you knew that Colby graduates with me and Tay?”
“It must have slipped my mind because I graduated high school before you became a freshman.” Mara gives you slight attitude and you raise your brows, “You good, Mar?”
She nods, “Yeah. Why?”
You shake your head, “Nothing, it just.. sounded like you were coming at me for a second.” She laughs, trying to cover up her obvious jealousy, “No, it’s just a really small world, isn’t it.”
You laugh slightly, glancing over at Tay before nods, “It sure is.”
Colby knew you were talking to him.
“So what bar are we going to?” Colby asks with hopes of trying to break the tension. Tay sighs, “Well, I was thinking that we’d try a new one? They just opened one over on Saint Elm, it looks pretty good.”
“Are you talking about that bar you sent me yesterday?” You ask and she nods. You look back at them, your words almost getting caught when you looked at Colby, “Is that okay with you guys?”
They both nod and Tayla takes you guys there. You were actually relived to get out of the car and away from the clearly awkward small talk.
You grabbed Mara’s hand and pulled her back away from Colby and Tayla, “Hey. I didn’t know that you didn’t know Colby went to school with me.”
She sighs, “Y/n. Can we no-“
“No, we’re doing this now because I don’t want you to have a bad night, okay? I knew Colby from band, that was it. There’s actually someone back home that I’ve been talking to, okay. So there’s no reason you need to get snippy with me.” You laugh and you laughs, glancing up at Colby, “I just..”
She looks back up at you, “I’m not used to being with someone who’s so.. famous like Colby is. I’m always thinking that every girl is trying to get him.”
You laugh slightly, “I’m sure it isn’t easy. But it’ll get better. Colby, from what I remember from high school-“
Which is a lot more than you’re leading on.
“And from what I see on social media.” You shake your head, “I don’t think he’s the type of person to fuck you over.”
She sighs, “Thank you.” She pulls you into a hug, “Yeah, I told mom that you’ll know why I hid it, since you watch their videos and all.”
Watch their videos and all, yeah. Not like you had Colby’s dick in you first or anything.
“Oh yeah.” You turn, pulling her with you towards Tayla and Colby, “It makes sense now.” Tayla gives you guys a thumbs up, “We good here?”
You nod, “Yeah. We’re good.”
“Great, because I need a drink.” Tayla turns and walks into the bar. Mara snaps, “Oh shit. Colby.” She looks at him, “I totally forgot to ask you, would you be willing to drive us back to mom and dads?”
Colby nods, “I already planned on having to.” He smirks, looking between you and Mara. You smirk and walk towards the door, going inside to find Tayla and your other friends who were meeting you here.
You were doing pretty well at keeping your resurfaced feelings for Colby suppressed, but as the night goes on, and with help but the alcohol you keep putting in your body, your wandering eyes happen more often and you just slowly start to not care.
Everyone else was wasted, well. Everyone but Colby.
And he had his eyes on you, too.
You really did care about Mara, but Colby wasn’t helping matters with the way his pupils dilated when he looks at you.
You start thinking about how to get him alone and that’s your cue to bring up something about going on, “Alright. Once I finish this.” You point to your glass, giggling as you lean forward to grab it, “I’m.. done. I’m tired.”
“Aww.” Your friends pout, “We barely see you anymore, y/n.” “Yeah, come on stay out please.” “Please one more drink!” “One more shot!”
“Fine. One more drink.” You laugh, enjoying your friends praise you and Colby takes note real fast of that kink.
You slurp down that drink and stand up, “Alright. Who is my DD? I’m leaving.” You start walking towards the door and Mara and Tayla come running after you, laughing as they cling to your arms.
They were both absolutely shitfaced.
You were borderline blackout - anymore and you’d be a goner.
“You’re the best sister ever.” Mara slurs as she lays her head on your shoulder. You look down at her, quickly looking back to make sure Colby is behind you, and his eyes are on you.
You give him a smile and look back down at Mara, “No, you’re the best sister ever.” Tayla sighs, stopping outside of her car, “I need to go to sleep.”
You laugh, “I feel that.” You walk to the passenger side and Mara whines, “Tay.” You look at Tayla and smile, “You wanna sit in the back with Tay?”
Mara nods, her eyes closed, “I love her.”
You laugh, moving to the back door and opening, “Okay. In we go.” You and Tay get Mara in the car before you help Tay in. She pats your face, “You need to come back home more. I miss you.”
You nod, “I will come home more.” You buckle her up and shut the door, your drunkenness quickly blowing away as you get into the passenger seat.
You would have sat in the back, but you didn’t feel like moving Mara’s legs.
“Ready?” Colby asks and you nod, “Yeah, they’re good.” He puts the car in drive and starts heading back to your parents house, “Are you good?”
He asks that question a little quieter and you know he’s not just talking about the situation right now, “Uh.” You clear your throat quietly, “Yeah. Yeah.” You look over at him and he looks at you as he comes to a stop at the red light.
You looked away as you see the red light creep onto his face and you have to look away or else you’ll do something you really know you shouldn’t do.
It’s pretty much quiet, except for the snoring from the two girls in the back. They passed out as soon as their asses hit the seat.
“Did you have fun?” Colby asks, breaking the slightly awkward silence. It’s only really awkward because of who is sitting in the back. If it was just you and him, that’d be a different story.
“I did.” You look over at him, “That was until I realized how drunk these two were.” You point your thumb towards the back, “So now, I’m just tired.”
Colby nods, “Yeah. I expected to not stay out this late, but I should know by now who you guys are.” He chuckles and you scoff quietly with a smirk, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Colby smiles, and fuck. It’s insane how fast you still just melt into the seat for him.
“Party girl, y/n. Ever since high school.” He bites down on his lip and you know his mind went to that memory of you and him sneaking off at Friday night party because yours went there, too.
“You started that.” You point to him, “So, that isn’t on me.” You laugh quietly and you would have swore it was just you and him again, but the loud snort that came from one of the sleeping drunks, robs you of that being true.
“Mhm.” Colby smirks as he parks the car, “You get one I’ll get the other?” You rest your head back, closing your eyes as you prepare to drag Tay’s body into the house.
You sigh, opening your eyes to find his already on yours. You feel a heat rising in your cheeks and you nod, “Let’s get it over with.”
You get out, finding your key before opening Tay’s door. You lean over, looking up at Colby as you both lean in to unbuckle the girls.
Fuck you wanted to kiss him again - No, no.
You shake your head and lean back, pulling Tayla’s seatbelt with you. You see a slight look of disappointment on Colby’s face as you glance up at him.
Before he can say anything, you start to pull Tayla from the car, “C’mon, T.” She groans, resting your head on your shoulder.
You spin around and close the door, making sure your grip is tight on her as you walk her up the sidewalk to the front door of the house, “Alright, hey. I have to unlock the door, okay?”
Tay starts to giggle, “You do..” she pokes your cheek, “What-whatevvveer it is you got ta do.” She laughs and looks over at Colby and Mara, “MarMar!”
You laugh as you push the door open, “Oh my god.” You shake your head, motioning for Tayla, “Come on. You have to be quiet.”
“Quiet.” Tayla repeats in a hushed whisper, “Got it.” She walks in with you guiding her, Colby following with a now grumpy Mara.
She groans, trying to push away from Colby, “m-mm. I can- I can do it myself.” Colby sighs, “alright.”
You glance back, watching as Mara tries to remove her still buttoned jacket. You laugh to yourself, closing your eyes as you take a deep breath.
“Stay here.” You look at Tay and she nods, “Yes ma’am.”
You roll your eyes, laughing as you make your way to your sister, bending down to unbutton the last button on her jacket, “Alright. There. Now come on. Follow Tay.”
“Tay!?” She looks up and gasps, “She’s still here!”
You give Colby a look and shake your head as you sigh, laughing as you walk back to Tayla, “Alright, can you do the steps?”
Tay nods, but in reality, it was a dreadful, ten minute stair climb. Once you were up the steps, you kicked open the door to the room you stayed in as a kid.
Colby takes Mara to her old room and then you both eventually meet out in the hall.
You pull the door closes behind you, making sure to be as quiet as possible. You turn, freezing when you see Colby walk out of Mara’s, doing exactly what you did.
He turns, freezing when he sees you.
You kick your heels off, pushing them out of the way before you just walk past Colby and down the steps, but he’s hot on your trail, “Y/n.” His voice is quiet, “Hey. Please.”
You make your way into the kitchen, flipping on the lights above the sink, giving you more than just the moonlight pouring through the windows.
You turn, looking at him as he walks through the door, “What are we doing, Colby?” You press one of your hands to your cheek, “Y-you’re with my sister.. but th-“
You stop talking, shaking your head, “You’re with my sister.”
“But what?” He asks and you look up at him, “You’re with my sister. So, it doesn’t matter.”
“You had me first, y/n.”
His words catch you off guard, all you can manage to shoot back is a sharp, “so?”
You can tell he wasn’t sure where he was going with that either, but he shakes his head, “I knew you were Mara’s sister. I know what we have in the past, frankly.” He shrugs, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day we broke up.”
“The day you and Sam moved to LA.” You correct, shooting a smirk at him.
He sighs, smirking, “The day I ruined your life, alright.”
You laugh, pointing to him, “There ya go.”
He rolls his eyes, “Still the same fucking fire you had in you when you were eighteen.”
You smile, cheeks turning darker, “I’ve missed you.”
The words feel like they’ve barely left your tongue. Your voice was so quiet, you didn’t think Colby heard until you feel his hand slide over top of yours.
“I wish you knew how much I want to message you each time I see you like my posts.” His thumb brushes over your skin, “How much I just want to call you, talk to you. Catch you up on everything in between that day and now, stuff you don’t see on social media.”
You feel like you could puke.
Colby’s unexpected confession has your nerves zipping back and forth at high speed, “I-I don’t..” you sigh, trying to calm yourself down, “Colbs.”
He smirks at the nickname you gave him in high school as you try to stay focused, “I-..” you sigh, “You’re with my si-“
He cuts you off, words coming out fast, “Say the word and I’ll be with you.”
You stand there in silence as you stare at him.
You knew what you wanted to do, but you also knew that what you wanted to do, was one of the absolute worst things you could possibly do.
But, you do it anyway.
Your hand drags along the grey marbled island top as you walk around the thing that’s standing between you and Colby.
Inches from each other, you look up at him. His hand slowly reaches up to caress your face, and as soon as his touch meets your skin, that’s the last sign of gentle you saw for a while.
His hand moves down to your neck, gripping tightly before your lips were on his. Your hands work at your jeans, unbuttoning them and pushing the zipper down before your push them down your thighs.
Your hands slide up Colby’s chest, moaning quietly and he bites down on your lip.
His other hand moves to your hip, pushing you to spin so he can lift you up onto the counter. He pulls your jeans down, letting them fall to the floor and your thighs immediately divorce each other as soon as his hands lay on your knees.
His lips trail down your neck, nipping and sucking at random spots. He kisses up to just below your ear, fingers pushing further and further up the inside of your thighs, “I’ve thought about this pussy every day.”
You moan at his words and he muffles them quickly with a kiss, “hush now, baby. It’d be a shame if we got caught.”
You nod, whimpering quietly as his fingers hook into your panties and pull them aside. He grips your bottom lip with his teeth and tilts his head back before allowing your lip to gently slap back against your top, “Still wet for me?”
Colby’s voice is deep, slightly raspy, and so, so hot.
That alone was such a turn on, and right there was how you knew you were absolutely fucked.
“you know I am.” You manage to whisper out. You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him into you. Your lips press to his and you gasp as two of his fingers push into your eager opening.
“Fuck.” You whimper quietly, wrapping your leg around his waist, “Colby.”
Colby he reaches up, laying his hand on your neck, his lips meet yours once more before he leans down, throwing your legs over his shoulders and not wasting another second before plunging his tongue where his fingers just were.
He groans against you, pressing his face into your to muffle his own moans. You lay a hand over your mouth, looking at Colby devouring you like he used to do years ago.
You did feel bad, you really didn’t want to hurt Mara, but at the same time, Colby’s eyes locking onto yours as he grins like the devil just tops everything.
You reach down, pulling him up to you. Your hands move to his belt and his lips kiss any skin he can find.
You try to quiet the clanking of metal as you pull the leather through. Once out, you unbutton and zip his pants and he’s pushing them down with you.
He grips your thighs, sliding you to the edge of the counter and your legs lift up to lay on his hips as he pulls his cock from his boxers.
You watch down as his cock slides into you and Colby slaps his hand over your mouth right as you start to moan.
He pulls you closer to him as he slowly pull out and thrusts back in to you, this time, bottoming out completely.
Your eyes roll back and your nails dig into the back of his neck. You look up at him, brows burrowed as you squeeze his cock.
He groans lowly into your hair before looking down at you, “So much better than I remember.” He presses his lips to yours, moving them in sync as he thrusts slowly into you.
You moan against his lips, already feeling that band in your belly tightening, “M’gonna cum.” You mumble with your lips still smashed to his.
He nods, resting his forehead against yours, “Mhm.” He presses his lips to your slightly sweaty forehead and he brings a hand up to cup your cheek, “Feels so good, baby girl.”
You squeeze around him, and he chuckles at the indication, “Still like that, huh?” He brushes his lips against your cheek and you whimper out, “Yes.”
He smirks, “Be a good girl and cum for me.”
Your grip on him tightens, and you roll your hips forward as you moan quietly. Colby’s brows raise and he lets out a breath, “Fuck, do that again.” He squeezes your hips, “That felt good.”
You roll your hips, meeting his thrusts the best you can as your orgasm rolls in, wreaking havoc over every inch of your body.
Your legs start to shake and you bury your face into Colby’s shoulder. He slides his hand up your back, holding you close as he guides you through your high.
His following close behind.
It didn’t register until after you were redressed that he didn’t pull out, but you just shrugged it off. You wanted all the time with Colby you could get right now.
After he buckles his belt, he walks over to you, “Hi.”
You smile, laying your hands on his biceps, “Hi.”
His eyes scan your face, licking his lips as he shakes his head, “I should have just messaged you.” You nod, “I agree with you on that one..”
You laugh slightly, “Now we’re in this.. this mess..”
Colby knew you were stressing. The only thing Mara ever talked about was how special or a relationship you guys have.
He cups your cheeks, “Hey.” He makes you look at him, “Well figure this out.”
You nod, “we will?”
He nods, “We will.”
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Since I haven’t posted much, I added a little subplot for you all 🖤 thanks for reading, I love you all so much.
A FEW WEEKS LATER
Ever since that night at your parents, you and Colby have been non stop texting, calling, talking - you’ve been basically catching each other up over things that happened within the last seven years.
Mara still doesn’t know what happened that night.
Your poor parents still don’t know about the island countertop.
You and Colby were just in your own little world for a little while.
“Fuck.” Your roommate, Jordan, groans from the bathroom, “Do we have stain remover, y/n?” You look up from your phone and close your eyes, “Um, yeah. I think there’s some on the shelve above the washer.”
You look over towards the bathroom, “What did you stain?” You laugh slightly and your smile fades as she walks out holding up her red stained pants.
“Oh, fuck. Okay. Here.” You walk over to her, taking her pants, “I’ll make you a lemon juice mixture. This just happened to me last month.”
“You and your little hacks. I’m glad we’re roomies.” She laughs and walks over, watching as you grab the lemon from the fridge.
You smile, “Right!” You grab a knife and slice the lemon a few times before you have to stop because you felt like you were going to puke.
“Y/n?” Jordan leans in, “Are you okay? You just went pale.” She stands up, “Hey.”
“Be right back.” You manage to choke out before dropping the knife and bolting to the bathroom. You slam the door shut, falling to your knees and heaving over the toilet.
You reach up, pulling down the silver handle and leaning back. You shake your head, thinking to yourself how weird that was. You’ve never gotten sick over smelling a lemon before.
Jordan knocks on the door, “Hey, you okay in there?”
You turn your head slightly, “Y-yeah. I’m good. I think I might be coming down with something.”
“Oh no. Keep it to yourself please.” She laughs slightly, “What am I talking about, I probably already have it.”
“I’ll be out in a second.” You explain to her how to apply the mixture before getting that sick feeling again.
“Okay. If you need anything let me kn-“
You lean forward, gagging as squeeze your eyes shut, “Oh fuck.” You wipe your mouth and let out a sigh. You pull your buzzing phone out and see a text from Mara.
Your heart sinks a little as you open it, Mom and Dad want us to go home at least once a month now. I guess they missed having us at home.
You let out a breath of air and rest your head back against the wall, taking a second to calm your racing heart before you reply, Sounds good to me.
You go to set your phone down but then you see the date.
Your heart starts to race again.
You quickly unlock your phone and go to your period tracker app and your heart falls into your stomach as the words in the circle read, PERIOD IS FOUR DAYS LATE.
“Oh shit.” You scramble to your feet, any feeling of sick being gone and now you were just freaking out. You wipe your forehead, washing your hands before walking as calmly as you can from the bathroom.
“I’m going to run to the store quick, pick up some juice or something, plus I need pads.” You lie, I just got my fucking period, too.”
She groans, trying not to laugh, “Oh shit, dude. Well you know what they say. Girls who hang around together a lot tend to sync cycles.”
“I blame you.” You squint your eyes, “Do you need anything?” She shakes her head, “Oh!” She holds up her fingers, “Grab me one of those coffee Starbucks frappe things.”
“Okay. Text me if you think of anything else.” You walk towards the door, grabbing your keys before you open it and leave.
You let out a shaky breath, trying not to cry as you go to your car. As soon as you get in and connect to the Bluetooth, Colby’s name appears on the screen of your car.
“Fuck. Okay.” You take a deep breath, hitting answer, “Hey, Colbs!”
You can tell he’s smiling through the phone, “What’s up, baby girl?”
You smile slightly and start driving, “I’m just running to the store, Jordan is sick so I’m going to get her some stuff. What’s are you up to?”
“Sam and I are just editing a new video and we took a break, so I figured I’d call you.” Colby yawns, “I’m so tired.”
Tired. Thats another thing you’ve been.
“I feel that. These last few weeks have been just a shit show at work.” You lie again.
You didn’t want to say anything until there was another line indicating that there was even anything that needed to be said.
“Anything in particular?” Colby asks and you sigh, “Just other people, you know.” You pull into the parking lot of the store and lean back, “You and Sam going on any new adventures soon?”
Colby chuckles, “Actually, okay. So I did have another reason to call you.”
You laugh, “What’s the first reason?”
Colby laughs, “Well, because I wanted to talk to you, hear your voice, obviously.” You laugh slightly and tilt your head, “Yeah. I needed to hear yours, too.”
“Aw how sweet.” Colby teases and you roll your eyes with a smile, “Anyway. Reason number two?”
“I talked to Sam and he thinks it’ll be a good idea if you do a video with us. Like a mini high school reunion special, Tayla can come too.” Colby says and you smile, “Yeah.” You say, totally ignoring your current situation, “I know I would and I’m sure Tayla wouldn’t say no to that.”
“Great. Great. I’ll talk to Sam and then I’ll keep you posted with the deats, yeah?”
“Sounds good, Colby.” You smile and hear Sam yelling in the background, “Hi, y/n!” You smile, “Hi Sam!”
“Alright. I’ll text you. Gotta get back to that grind.” Colby laughs, “Ya know?”
“I do. Have fun.” You smile and Colby scoffs, “I will now that you said to.”
You laugh, “Bye.”
“Bye.”
As soon as the car goes silent, tears well up in your eyes and you just start sobbing. Fuck these hormones, you think as you try to pull yourself together.
You take a few deep breaths and grab your bag and keys before walking in.
You managed to get in, grab a few things, the tests and get out. You cried the whole way home. No matter what you did, you couldn’t stop it.
Finally once you were home and in the driveway. You pulled it together, hoping you could hold it long enough.
You walk in, “Hey. I’m back.” You close the door and walk over to the counter, setting down the bags. You get the stuff out and grab the box of pads, “I’ll be back.”
You hand Jordan her drink as you walk by, avoiding eye contact because you couldn’t, not only answer, but handle a why are you crying question right now.
You sit down on the toilet, tossing the box to the floor before opening your purse. You stuffed the box with the tests in there as a way to keep your potential secret hidden from Jordan.
A few moments later, you set the stick down on the counter, covering it with the instructions because you couldn’t care to look.
You set a timer for three minutes, stopping it right before it goes off. You sit there for another second, feeling almost unable to look at it.
You muster up enough courage and pull the paper off, revealing a double lined answer.
It feels like hours pass by as you stare at the tiny oval shaped screen.
You blink, shaking your head as you pick it up, laughing in disbelief as you cover your mouth with your free hand.
You look around, eyes wide as you panic on what to do, “Mm. Fuck.” You set the test on your lap and grab your phone from the sink.
Your thumb hovers over the little phone icon, shaking like a scared Chihuahua, “Fuck.” You sigh and slowly bring your phone to your ear.
By the time your phone meets your ear, you hear Colby talking, “Hey, sweetheart.”
You break, taking in a choked sob, sniffling as you try and talk, “C-col-“ you cover your mouth, you don’t want to be loud enough go get Jordan’s attention.
The less people that know, the better.
You keep your eyes closed, listening to Colby’s soothing voice, “Hey, hey. Y/n.” You can tell he stands up and starts walking, Sam asks him where he’s going. He doesn’t answer him, he just keeps walking, “What’s going on, y/n?”
Your tear filled eyes are locked onto the two lines and you can’t bring yourself to say anything.
“Hey. If this is about us and what we’re doing I pr-“
You cut him off, “n-no. No.” You shake your head to yourself, “I-it’s not that.” You sniffle, looking up, “Um.”
“Whatever it is, I’m here for you.” Colby assures and you can’t help but laugh, still unable to believe that this is happening, even though it’s right here in front of you.
You were scared. Scared for what is going to be said about you from Mara. Tayla. Your parents.
You feel your heart rate pick up again and you close your eyes, trying to calm yourself down, but you just inevitably blurt it out, “I’m pregnant.”
It’s silent on both ends, at least for a few minutes before Colby breaks it, “Is it.. mine?”
“Yeah.” You breathe out, resting your elbow on the sink, hand on forehead, “Haven’t slept with anyone else since you.”
“Did you tell anyone else, sweetheart?”
You smile slightly as a tear falls down your cheek, “Mm. No.”
“Do you know how far along you are?” Colby’s voice is soft, gentle. He didn’t seem mad, but you felt like you needed to ask, “Probably like four or five weeks? They won’t get me in for an ultrasound until eight weeks.”
You take a brief pause, “Are you mad?”
“Mad?” He questions right away, “Why would I be mad? This is on me, too.” He chuckles slightly, “I mean, I knew I’d find you again, but I didn’t plan on having this happen right off the bat.”
“I was on birth control, I promise. I must have..” you groan quietly, “missed a pill.” You feel like you want to start crying again but Colby’s voice snaps you out of it, “Shit happens, Princess. We’ll get by. I promise, It’s okay.”
“I’ve been sitting here long enough, I think I’m going to take this other test, just to be sure.” You reach into the box and pull out the other test, unwrapping it before you set your phone and other test on the counter.
“I’m here, okay.” Colby reminds you, “I’m sorry you’re doing this alone.”
“It’s okay.” You whisper as you cap the test, setting it down, “Now we wait. Three minutes.”
After an almost quiet three minutes passes, you let out a sigh, “Okay.” You sit up, reaching for the test, already knowing what it’s about to read.
“Is it the same as the first?” Colby asks and you flip it over, taking in a sharp breath, “Yeah.”
“Okay I’m coming.”
“What?!” You lean forward, “Colby, you can’t what ab-“
“I told you. We will figure this out, and it just so happens that Sam and I have a place to investigate in Seattle, which just so happens to be where you’re living.”
“Mhm.” You smile slightly, “What a coincidence.”
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
Hi, hello. Sorry I haven’t been posting much. I’m currently working on giving each person their own masterlist and I have to make banners for each one and it’s just a process.
I hope this kind of made up for it. I love you all so much, thank you for reading and as always.. let me know what you thought of this!
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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songsbygumi · 2 days
Text
Don’t sit down ‘cause I moved your chair
| Megumi x reader
Summary- "Expect the unexpected; Kugisaki and Panda are on a mission to get Megumi and you together. The two times, Nobara and Panda set you two up, and the one time they didn't need to do it."
Warnings - reader use a skirt, use of Y/N one time, poor english, one mention of the pronoun her I think its just once I can change it tho.
A/N- This is part of the universe of 'Suck It and See' inspired by Arctic Monkeys' album and Alex Turner's 'Submarine' EP.
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Panda didn’t mean to snoop on Maki. I mean, come on, he was just chilling in the classroom waiting for the class to start when Maki barged in, shouting something like, “At this point, we should lock her with Fushiguro in a closet and hope she makes a move.” It took Panda less than five seconds to figure out that the 'her' Maki was talking about was you. He watched Maki leave the room, still clueless about his presence, chatting away with who he thought was Yuta on the phone.
Panda didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but now that he knows, he has to tell Kugisaki, right?
“I think Y/n likes Fushiguro,” Kugisaki eyes widening as she connected the dots in her head. Everything suddenly made sense: how you get all flustered around him, how you always save him the last juice he loves at breakfast and give it to Inumaki to put it in Fushiguro's usual spot, how your face slightly drops when he mentions the date he had with the girl from the coffee shop, your eyes going soft when he talks, and Maki always trying to pair you two up for training. “I think they'd be a great match,” Panda adds, and they both grinned.
I
You have been waiting for an hour now outside the cinema. Fantastic Beasts is about to start, and Panda isn’t responding to his phone. You were supposed to meet here after spending your day at the shopping center.
“Hey Panda, I am at the entrance. The movie starts in fifteen minutes; you should hurry.” This is the fifth voice message you have left him. With a sigh, you turn your head to the street to see if you can catch him making his way to the theater, and that’s when you feel a hand on your shoulder.
“Hey,” you froze. It couldn’t be. You turned to face him. “Hi,” you blurted out, realizing Megumi Fushiguro stood before you, looking as gorgeous as always, his school uniform replaced by jeans and a hoodie. “Panda told me to let you know he couldn’t make it, but we can still go in if you want,” he offered.
You nodded following him inside, feeling like a little kid. “Ye...ah, cool, fuck Panda” you muttered behind him.
Did Panda invite him without telling you? Does Panda know about you liking him? You couldn’t say for sure.
“I didn’t know you were into Harry Potter,” he remarked, waiting for you. “Yeah... I’m kinda obsessed,” you admitted, blushing a bit, earning a chuckle from Megumi. “I'm kinda obsessed too,” he revealed, grabbing the tickets. You smiled, appreciating his easygoing vibe.
“I’m paying you, just let me know how much I owe you,” you say as the employee hands him the tickets.
“Don’t worry, Gojo sensei gave me enough to buy this whole place,” he says, brushing it off. “Do you want something to eat?”
“Yeah, uhm sure,” you said, swallowing hard, gathering the courage to keep talking.
“You like Harry Potter too, movies or books?” you wonder, not daring to look at his eyes.
His smile made your heart skip a beat. “Are you kidding? Books, of course,” he replied, and you couldn’t help but smile proudly. “Which book is your favorite?”
After a moment of thinking it, he responded, “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.”
“Incorrect” you said playfully, grabbing the popcorn and moving away. “What do you mean incorrect?” he asked, looking amused. “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban is right there” you argued, making him laugh.
You held the popcorn a bit too tightly, struggling to focus on the movie. You knew you were doing a bad job because by the end of it, you couldn’t remember a single thing besides Megumi's profile in the light.
As you walked back to school, chatting and feeling more comfortable, you found yourself agreeing with every single opinion of Megumi, encourage him to keep talking about it just because you didn’t have a single clue about what happened; you’ll have to see it again.
Later in your bed, you can’t help but think that maybe talking to Megumi Fushiguro wouldn’t be as difficult as you thought. Maybe you should keep doing it because talking with him was better than just staring at him from afar.
II
"Maybe you two should go together," Kugisaki suggested, smiling at her idea. Maki raised an eyebrow as she looked at you “It’s fine,” you said aloud. “I mean, yeah, I wouldn’t mind, of course, if you want, Fushiguro?”
Panda managed to hide a satisfied smile from you, but Maki's suspicious look caught him. “Sure thing, I’m down for it. It'd be nice not to deal with a crybaby while hunting for books." he remarked mockingly. “I’m not a cry baby!” Kugisaki protested, and you chuckled at the argument unfolding in front of you.
The library turned out to be smaller than expected, but your eyes lit up at the sight of shelves filled to the brim with books. The soft lighting and the background music of an Arctic Monkeys song made the atmosphere cozy; you could move here in a heartbeat.
“You weren’t lying when you said it was pretty,” you commented, turning to see Megumi standing casually, hands in his pockets, shrugging with a smile. He had a smile that could melt hearts. God, someone needs to make him stop smiling like that at you; he’ll kill you one of these days.
“You haven’t seen the best part” he said, taking your hand and leading you upstairs, making your heart race.
The second floor was packed with even more books, stacked everywhere, and inviting chairs that looked perfect for long reading sessions. It was like stepping into a book lover's dream. “This is amazing,” you whispered, caught up in the moment. Megumi wore a proud smile, happy to share this hidden gem with someone who appreciated it as much as he did. He kept holding your hand for a moment longer, feeling a warmth spread in his chest, before letting go, leaving the pleasant sensation behind.
“Oh my god, look at this Pride and Prejudice edition,” you said, admiring the gold engravings on the cover. “Oh, is that Heartstoppers?” you exclaimed, passing the book you previously held to Megumi.
"If you asked Kugisaki or Panda, they’d say they had never seen Fushiguro smile so much before. He was admiring you from behind, helping you hold the books you picked and reaching the higher manga shelves without complaining. "Looks like it’s going well.” Panda said a bit too loudly, breaking the calm atmosphere. Fushiguro's head turned, and they held the books they were 'reading' higher to cover their faces. “Shut up,” Kugisaki scolded him.
You didn’t notice, too busy looking at all the books, but seriously, did they think Fushiguro Megumi was that stupid to not notice Panda? Whatever they were planning, he will make them spill it, but for now, he had to hold your books.
“Look, that’s one of my favorites,” he pointed with his head at The Song of Achilles, getting into your little bubble again. You took it without questioning him or the book, adding it to the pile.
III
You’ve been craving Matcha for a week now, and you’ve been begging Maki to accompany you to the coffee shop for days. and still every time she answers with "Not all of us are first-grade sorcerers, and yet you still need to practice for the exchange event, which is literally tomorrow."
She’s been relentless; dragging you out for early morning runs at five in the morning so you can practice your hand-to-hand combat skills before seven, insisting, “Your curse technique outperforms at long distance, but what if they get up close? You need to be ready.”
Despite your intense training, all you wanted was a relaxed afternoon sipping on a cold Matcha. Yuta would have easily convinced Maki, you thought, missing your best friend dearly.
“What’s with the long face?” Kugisaki interjected, sitting next to you on the benches, watching Maki kick Panda's butt. “Nobody wants to get Matcha with me,” you pouted. Kugisaki’s brain starts working, but before she can offer to go with you, a male voice interrupts, “I'll go with you,” Fushiguro beats her to it.
"Really? You don't have to," you replied.
“Nonsense, we're friends, right? I enjoy spending time with you; you're better company than all these clowns,” he says, and you barely caught the rest after "friends."
Okay, that hurt a little. Your mind raced with a flurry of thoughts as you studied Megumi's expression. Of course, he doesn’t see you as more than a friend; he's so cool, and you're... well, just you. Why is he staring? Why is no one talking? Oh yeah, right, “Sorry, yes, we are. So, see you at five at the entrance?” you blurted out, snatching your backpack filled with clothes and some of Maki's weapons before rushing off, "Bye."
...
“What if I don’t go?” you contemplated twenty minutes before your scheduled friends date with Fushiguro.
“He didn’t do anything wrong. How is he supposed to know you want more than friendship?” Maki questioned, resting on your bed.
"Whose side are you on?" you retorted.
"Yours, but let's be real, you're being a tad irrational. Slip on the blue skirt and just go."
Megumi Fushiguro wasn't quite sure why he arrived early, but he felt an inexplicable urge to see you sooner; waiting longer was out of the question. And it was worth it, seeing you in that blue mini skirt and oversized sweater, a shy smile gracing your face as you spotted him. You looked even cuter than usual, he considered.
“Ready?" he questioned.
"Yeah, let's go," you affirmed, beginning to walk alongside him towards the coffee shop.
The café bustled with activity; it seemed like everyone had the same Matcha cravings as you did. Navigating through the crowd to reach the cashier proved challenging, but you preferred the subtle movements over pushing people or raising your voice to get through.
You were focus on not inconveniencing anyone when two hands settled comfortably on your waist, guiding you forward and providing a shield against the bustling bodies.
You held your breath; even through the layers of your sweater, you could feel the warmth emanating from Megumi’s hands. Finally reaching the cashier, he removed one hand, leaving the other on your lower back. "Hey there, what can I get you?" the cashier's words snap you back to reality.
“Uhm...” damn it, did you forget how to talk?
"One Matcha latte and one black coffee to go, please" Megumi says watching you struggling.
"Sure thing, regular milk?" you shook your head in disagreement. "Almond milk, please," you requested. The cashier nodded, and before Megumi could reach his wallet, you’ve already paid.
“That’s not fair,” he complains; you had to get your eyes checked because you thought you saw him pout.
“It’s fine, don’t worry; you always pay” you reassured him, moving towards the other end of the counter, Megumi's hand still lingering on your back.
"Hey, Megumi," a girl called out from the opposite side of the counter. She was strikingly pretty, flashing a wide smile at Megumi, her attention fully captivated by him until she noticed you a moment later. "Oh, sorry, hi," she acknowledged you, then shifted her gaze back to Megumi, noting his proximity to you, and her smile faltered slightly.
"Hey, Katsuki" he greeted back.
"You haven’t been around lately as usual" Katsuki remarked.
“Yeah, been busy with school stuff," he explained, his free hand casually brushing his neck.
"You haven’t replied to my texts either" you felt like an intruder in a conversation you shouldn’t be in.
“Sorry, it has been crazy lately,” he apologizes. Another employee calls for your names, and you swiftly grabbed your drinks, offering him his coffee.
"I'll wait outside if you need a moment," you informed him.
"No, it’s fine," he says to you, moving his hand to find yours. "Sorry, Katsuki, I swear I’ll text you back tonight. Take care," he says, guiding you through the crowd.
Outside the café, silence lingered for a moment. "A bit overwhelming with the crowd for you, huh? Feeling overstimulated?" he teases, smiling, to which you nodded. "Let’s go, I know a spot you'll love." He took your hand again, and a surge of electricity seemed to buzz between your palms. If he felt it, he didn’t mention it.
It had been week’s full of mixed emotions; you had countless questions swirling in your mind, but for now, you chose to give in the comforting and welcoming presence of Megumi Fushiguro.
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So High School (Spencer Reid x Reader)
a/n: It’s me, hi, so I’m kind of back, although I’ve decided to expand my horizons and also write for Doctor Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds; either way, I hope you like this little writing🤭💕
This one shot is inspired by So High School by Taylor Swift from The Tortured Poets Department, which is my current obsession, so if you are swifties, I hope you guys catch the references 🫶🏼
This is season 2 Spencer, cause I just really dig the shy-sweet vibe
This is not proofread, as it’s 2 am, but I couldn't stop
y/n – your name
Warnings: Friends to lovers (kindish), mentions of alcohol
Word count: 2,409
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Working at the BAU wasn’t easy, but every now, and then you’d have days when all you had pending was paperwork, and you’d catch a break. Like right now, sure, you still had a couple of reports to get through, but overall the mood seemed relaxed, even if you’d been working nonstop for the last 24 hours.
You were typing your reports and sporadically, you’d catch a glance of Spencer Reid’s concentrated face, whose desk was in front of you. Sure, you were work friends, but deep down you knew you had a small crush on the twenty-five-year-old Doctor. Your thoughts were starting to fly away, thinking about Spencer's hair, framing his delicate features, his big eyes, which seemed to move frantically over the computer screen, the way he bit the inside of his cheek when he was invested into his work, and the way his brows were crunching, making small wrinkles in his forehead; when suddenly, your train of thought was interrupted.
“You know what we should do? We should play kiss, marry, kill” Penelope suggested way too loudly coming into the bullpen with a huge grin and walking frantically to your desk.
“What are you even saying?” exclaimed Emily, standing from her chair and approaching your desk
“We still have to finish our reports” said Spencer, who seemed to be glued ho his computer, taping frenetically
“Did I just hear kiss, marry, kill?” Morgan approached your desk and one by one, the gang was coming all together
“Okay, first round, y/n, kiss, marry, kill with Gideon, Hotch and Rossi?” Penelope asked a little too excited for the question
“Come on, I’m not answering that” you said chuckling at the thought of even giving a response
“Comeeeeeee ooooooon” this time Morgan insisted and the absurdity of the question made you laugh so hard, Spencer looked up from his computer
“Fine, kiss Rossi, marry Hotch and kill Gideon, because he has way too much dad energy to kiss or marry him” you said, and your friends burst out laughing
“We are way too sleep-deprived to be here” Emily said chuckling, “Also, I’m starving”
“I have a frozen pizza at home I just can’t wait to devour” you said and suddenly your friend's eyes seemed to sparkle
“Now that I know that, I’m totally going home with you” Penelope said clinging to your arm
“I’m tagging along as well” Emily added clinging into your other arm
“They say three is a multitude, so I’m coming, just to keep you guys in check” Morgan exclaimed, and you couldn’t wait for Spencer to add himself into your plans, but unfortunately, the young doctor was back into his working frenezzy.
“Como on Spence, we are going home” you said hoping he’d tag along to your improvised plan, even if you were almost certain he’d say no, considering he didn’t really talk to you other than work related business; and rarely info dumped on you, which made you a little sad, considering his info dumps were one of the things that you most liked about him.
“Excuse me?” Spencer said crunching his eyebrows and staring over his screen monitor into your eyes
“We… we are all coming to my house to eat pizza, I was… I was wondering if you’d like to come” you stuttered and felt your cheeks become red. Anytime, you’d try to talk to Spencer about anything other than work, words would trip out of your mouth incomprehensibly, your cheeks would flush in a bright shade of red, and you were pretty sure anyone with a brain knew about your crush, specially considering you’d act like a high schooler in love around him.
“Come on man, we can even trow some poker to sweetener the deal for you” Morgan added
“Also, y/n told me that she has the new Grand Theft Auto, so we could play for a while” Penelope tried convincing Spencer appealing to his love for video games, and if it wasn’t obvious before, well, it was obvious now that you were eager to have the boy-genius at your place
“Alright, let me just grab my bag” Spencer said calmly, almost… oblivious to the fact that your friends were playing smooth wingman and wing-woman
“Penny and I are driving together, and Derek is taking his bike, so Reid, you can drive with y/n” Emily said and for a second, you couldn't believe how shamelessly uncool your friends were being about the whole situation
“If it’s alright with you, I’d appreciate riding with you” Spencer told you a little… flustered? No way, you were the one fangirling over him, maybe he was just getting secondhand embarrassment for the whole situation and your friend’s pathetic attempts to get you together.
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The ride home was quite nice, Spencer seemed to loosen up when he got the chance to share statistics on pizza consuming habits in the U.S. and somehow, he managed to incorporate the history of pizza:
“So, a precursor of pizza was probably the focaccia, a flatbread known to the Romans as panis focacius, to which toppings were then added. Modern pizza evolved from similar flatbread dishes in Naples, Italy, between the 16th and mid-18th century” Spencer kept explaining, while you took the chance to steal a couple of glances, even if it was a driving hazard “I’m sorry, I’m sure you are bored with my nonstop chatter” the young Doctor added shyly
“No way, I really enjoy your facts and stories” you said, and a shy smile formed into his lips, so you took a leap of faith, hoping with all your heart he wouldn't be uncomfortable with what you were about to say “I love the way your mind works, I find it amazing how you can just know so much, you know?”
“Thank you, it is called an eidetic memory, most people think it’s weird” Spencer said looking down to his hands, that were lying over his lap.
OH MY GO, WAS DOCTOR SPENCER REID BLUSHING? You were trying your best to hide your excitement, and luckily you were saved by the bell, as without realizing it, you were already parking in front of your apartment building
“So this is me, home sweet home” you said turning off the engine of your car and Spencer gave you a side smile that made your stomach flutter
“Thanks for the drive, and you know, for having me” he said, and you were high on his words; everything about him seemed to fascinate you, but before your mind could go wild, Morgan tapped your car window to let you know he was there, and after a couple of minutes, Penelope and Emily were outside as well
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“I’ll put the pizza in the oven, so maybe we can play a round of poker while we wait?” you suggested as your friends took a seat at the table, and you handed them a beer each.
“That’s what I’m talking about” Morgan said, already shuffling the deck of cards. The game was fun, although Spencer won each and every round. The night was everything you could ask for, Spencer seemed comfortable at your apartment, and he even got around to joking and laughing out loud.
“Truth or dare?” Morgan said spinning his empty beer bottle with mischief in his eyes, and laughs started bursting, until it landed on Emily
“Truth” she said glancing at Morgan with amusement
“Have you even come into work tipsy?” Morgan asked
“Alright, yeah, once when we were working with the Newport Police” she replied calmly “Now, have anything stronger?” Emily asked, lifting her beer bottle
“As a matter of fact, I do” you said standing from your chair and bringing different alcohol bottles, you had a wide selection of whiskey, wine, rum, tequila, and vodka
“What are you? A bartender?” Penelope asked, surprised by the alcohol selection.
“I tried, I even got a book, but between life and work I never got around to reading it” you added pouring your friends a couple of drinks.
Emily spun the bottle, and it landed on Spencer, who gulped a little too loudly, and you couldn’t keep your eyes from his Adam’s apple “Truth or dare, boy-genius?” she asked taking you off from your thought
“I… mm… truth?” he said almost too afraid of what your friends could think about asking him
“Alright, what do you think about y/n?” Emily asked bluntly, and you could see Spencer’s cheeks turning red. Sure, you loved your friends, but their mingling was getting way too obvious for your mental health
“I… I think she’s great, I mean, of course she is incredibly smart, she’s sweet, funny, and she has a special way to always makes you feel heard and taking into consideration. It is undeniably that she’s pretty, I mean, and… yeah that's what I think” Spencer said staring into your eyes, and you couldn't believe it, you literally were wonderstruck.
Did he like you? Did he just admit you were pretty? You were literally on cloud nine when you realized Spencer had spun the bottle, and this time it was facing you
“What’s… What’s your favorite movie?” Spencer asked shyly, and all eyes turned to him
“Come on man, that was your shot” Morgan said leaning into Spencer
“That changes, but right now I’d say American Pie” you said trying not to sound too embarrassed. Secrets were spilled, confessions were made, and shots were taken, until Penelope spun the bottle and once more, it landed on Spencer
“Truth or dare, lover-boy?” Penelope asked a little too excited, which once more made Spencer a little nervous, considering the situation, and of course, the fact that he pretty much just admitted having a crush on you
“Dare?” Spencer said, almost asking
“Uuuh I got a great one, read y/n’s bartender book, and then prepare us some fire ass drinks” she said almost euphoric
“Oh, okay, sure, I can do that” Spencer said released a breath he didn't realize he was holding “y/n, would you mind lending me the book? So I can read it, please?” he asked shyly, and you knew this was your chance to make a move
“Of course, although I’m not sure where it is, so… maybe you can help me find it?” you asked hoping he caught the subtext
“Yes, yes I can help you look” he said, and a little grin formed into his lips
“What about playing the Grand Theft Auto whille they go lok for the book?” Morgan asked smootly, giving you just what you needed, a chance to slip to the side with Spencer
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You were now in your room, with the guy that made your stomach flutter, and once again, you coultn shake away the feeling of being a sixteen year old girl approaching her crush for the first time. Okay, so until now you knew there was a chance he actually liked you, so for the first time, you tried to flirt smootly
“So, the book must me somewhere on this wall” you told Spencer pointing at the wall-tall-bookshelf that adorned your room
“That is an impressive collection” Reid said admiring your books
“Thank you, I like… reading, and of course, books” you mumbled and between the nerves of having him in your room, and the fact that he was aproaching you, starring directly at your eyes, your braing wasn’t braining it. This defenetly wasn’t considered smooth, or flirty
“Truth or dare?” Spencer said coming closer to you
“Truth” you responded almost instantly
“Why is American Pie your favorite movie?” he asked, and the question genualy threw you off
“I know most people think it’s a really stupid movie, but even in those crazy scenarios, the guys get to laugh, and learn about life, sure, it’s twisted, and watching to too your can defenetly cause issues, but I think it’s a great piece of cinematography”
“That’s impressive, altough I can’t judge, as I’ve never got arroud to watch it” Spencer said, moving a little, and turning back to your book collection
“Truth or dare, Doctor Reid?” you asked playfully
“Truth” he said chuckling, and once again, you confirmed his little laughs sent a dopamine charge into your brain that was almost adictive
“What’s your favorite thing from my collection?” you asked, moving your hand motioning your bookshelf
“While you have an impressive Aristotle collection, which I’m a big fan of, right now my favorite thing in this room is not exactly a thing, but a person” he said once again leaning into you, “Truth or dare, miss y/n?” he asked coming even closer to your face
“Truth” you asked playing it safe, as he had suddenly turned into Doctor Smooth Reid, and seeing him take charge, was a side of him, one that you were totally enjoying
“What are you thinking about right now?” he said, leaning a little closer to you
“Actually, all I can think about right now is kissing you” you admited, bitting you lower lip, but not giving him time to answer, you asked “Truth or dare?”
“Dare” Spencer said, with his eyes lingering from your eyes, to your lips and viceversa
“I dare you to kiss me” you said, and as you finished yout sentence, his hand was cupping your cheeck, his other hand was placed on your waste, and his lips were softly crashing into yours. The kiss was soft, and sweet, with a couple of bites in between. One kiss, then another one, and swiftly, Spencer made you turn, placing your back towards your bookshelf and getting closer to you, just like you, he longed for this moment, for your kiss, for your touch. You were enjoyoing yourselves way too much, when you heard a knock on your door, which made the two of you burst out laughing
“We should go back to them” Spencer said, placing a las kiss into your lips
“Maybe next Saturday you can come over, I mean, you can’t go though life without the rite of passage of watching American Pie” you said chuckling, hoping with all your flustered heard he’s say yes
“That would me wonderful, I can’t keep living like this, without watching American Pie, I mean” he said lacing his fingers with yours, and opening the door for you, so the two of you could go back to your friends, who were also laughing from the living room, as they were sure their mission of getting you together had been succesful.
I really hope you liked it, let me know if you want part 2, as I'm pondering the idea of the American Pie date.
Kay, love you, bye 🩷
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With all the strength they had left, the hero crawled into the villain’s apartment through the window. After surviving the superhero, this should have been easy but it turned out to be exhausting.
The hero had landed in the bathroom and without wasting another second, they pulled themselves up and searched through the cabinets. Unfortunately, their bloody hands left enough evidence of them breaking in already. They supposed they’d have to face the villain sooner or later, even if that meant the villain was going to throw them out again.
For now, they found something close enough to practical — a razor — and opened the first aid kit the villain usually stored under the cabinet. Before they could take out the blades, the villain opened the door.
“You’re not as quiet as you think.” The hero looked at them and smiled softly. Teeth stained with blood, heavy limbs.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” they said. With no hesitation, the villain helped them up and took the razorblades out of their hands.
“What happened to that pretty face?” they asked. With one hand on the hero’s hip, they reached for a clean towel and turned on the sink. They let the soft fabric drench in warm water and gently cleaned up the hero’s face.
It all happened so fast. The villain didn’t seem to mind that the hero was here in the middle of the night.
And they were close. So close.
Whereas the villain was focused on the hero’s face and getting rid of all that blood, the hero stared into their eyes. Maybe it was this cruel change: brutal violence coming from someone they had adored to gentle tenderness from someone they had loathed.
The villain looked down at them. Their thumb traced the hero’s jawline and the hero looked away, almost ashamed.
“You look like shit,” the villain whispered. “And you woke me up.”
“I’m sorry,” the hero said. They looked at the villain’s clothes — their underwear and a shirt. The hero blushed a little. They took the villain’s hand and reached for the razorblades. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
The hero let go of them with a gaze that lingered a little too long.
“They chipped me,” the hero explained. They cleaned the blade with some rubbing alcohol and took in a deep breath. “Chipped me like a fucking dog.”
They cut into their own forearm, watching as the blood ran down their skin. It burnt even more than the open wounds on the hero’s back. They supposed they just had gotten used to that sort of pain, even if that was impossible.
With the blade, they dug through skin and muscle, clenching their teeth until they found the little tracker. They cursed when they pushed their fingers into the wound to fish it out.
Once they had the bloody device in their hand, they let it fall to the ground and crushed it under their boot.
“I knew trackers are useless at your place. You’ve slipped through my fingers quite a few times that way.”
The villain didn’t say anything. They just stared at the hero who cleaned their arm.
It wasn’t exactly easy to crawl to their nemesis and beg for shelter. The hero was too proud to do that anyway and they had planned to leave after cutting out the microchip.
“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” the hero said.
“You didn’t bother me.” The villain took a step forward and took the hero’s hands. “Are you alright?”
The hero frowned.
“Of course I am. I’m fine. I’m doing great.”
“You’re sure about that?” The villain let their fingers intertwine and suddenly, the hero felt very tired very quickly. “You’ve been so busy these last few days. I barely got to see you. They sent over some other lame heroes.”
The hero chuckled tiredly.
“I mean, why would they think I am satisfied with all the other rabble?” One of their hands glided down the hero’s forearm where they put pressure on the wound. “You always wanted to be a hero. When did that change?”
“I don’t know,” the hero said but the desperation and the hopelessness were already settling in. It didn’t even buy them time to lie to the villain. One way or another they found out anyway and most of the time, they asked the hero questions they already had the answers to.
The hero couldn’t really take it anymore. The pain was too much, their mind was breaking more and more.
“Oh, so many tears on such a pretty face,” the villain said. They pulled the hero closer and wiped their tears away with the back of their hand. “Don’t you know it’s not your fault?”
“They turned against me,” the hero said. Their voice trembled. “All of them. They chipped me, they put a bounty on my head. They’re trying to kill me because I don’t agree with…with all this shit.”
The villain cupped their face. “With what?”
“With all this stupid collateral damage and these dumb advertisements. Most of the time I feel like a mascot, I’m barely saving any people.”
“Oh, darling.” The villain tilted their head. Their presence was comforting in a way the hero hadn’t had experienced before. Whatever they’d done to each other in the past, the hero didn’t care. They were familiar, they were warm. The hero wasn’t going to let anyone take this moment away from them. “And who exactly beat you up like this? Your boss, I assume?”
“…yeah.” They could play pretend. They could pretend the villain was closer, that they were more than acquaintances. Even if it wasn’t real, even if the villain was using them, the hero needed some affection right now. They’d gladly give the heartbreak to their future self.
“My poor hero,” the villain said softly. “Would you let me stitch you up?”
The hero nodded.
“I’ll protect you,” the villain promised. They pulled them close to hug the hero. The hero didn’t understand why they were so gentle, so kind. Most of the time, they insulted each other like children. But the hero needed this. They really did. “They will pay for this.”
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hllywdwhre · 15 hours
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My Darling Boy
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Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Irish!fem!reader
Summary: Tommy’s late night leads to you comforting him and a recount of the first time you realized you loved him.
Warnings: Panic attacks, reader faces anti-Irish sentiment from a stranger, Tommy says some questionable things about the Irish but nothing too bad💀, violence, bar fight. Let me know if I missed any!
Word Count: 2.8K
Notes: This was 100% inspired by @red-write-hand ‘s Tommy bot. My god do I love that thing and fluff it gives me. I tried keeping this as reader friendly as possible, but some details had to be added to fit the plot, such as reader being Irish.
Edit: This has not been proofread and YIKES. Sorry for all the errors😭
Flashbacks are italicized!
You stared at the clock on your wall that read 2:07 AM. Tommy was supposed to be in bed three hours ago. It was your agreement. He could work as late as he wanted as long as he ate all three meals with you and came to bed at 11. The resolve had come almost a year ago when you’d finally told him you, his wife, felt like second place to his work.
But here it was. 2AM, your bed felt cold without him there, and this was the third time this week that he hadn’t come to bed on time.
You tried not to argue with him. He had enough stress with work and you didn’t want to be a source of more stress, but you had his same quick temper and you couldn’t deny that you were more than irritated that he was seemingly back to his old ways of ignoring your agreement.
You made your way down the hall and to his office, leaning against the door frame.
Tommy spoke before you could, “I know what you’re about to say.”
The exhaustion in his voice and the way he looked… defeated immediately caused a change of heart in you, though.
“My darling boy,” you said in a soft voice, making sure to use the pet name you had for him to try and avoid him thinking you were there for an argument.
“Don’t ‘my darling boy’ me,” he replied immediately with a bite in his tone, “Not when you’re here to start an argument with me. What time is it?”
You’d known Tommy since he came back from The Great War. You knew more than well enough by now to not take his words to heart when he was like this. He was taking his anger out on you, whether you deserved it or not.
You had blinded men and taken their tongues using the bladed Peaky Blinders cap for speaking to you the way Tommy was speaking to you, but Tommy was your soft spot. Somehow, you always remained calm when it came to Tommy.
You made your way over to his desk and picked up the empty whiskey glass that was next to a stack of papers that littered his desk.
“It’s 2 in the morning, my love,” you replied in a calm voice. You walked over to the fireplace where his bottle of whiskey sat and refilled the glass then placed it on the desk again.
He picked it up as soon as you set it down and took a long drink from it.
“I have work, you know that. The business doesn’t run itself.” He took another swallow of the liquid and you could see the way his breathing had picked up slightly.
It started to make sense in that moment. You knew Tommy as well as he knew you and as well as you knew yourself. You knew the signs of one of his panic attacks beginning and stepped between him and his desk.
“I know that. I’m not mad at you, darling,” you replied after a moment. You made sure to keep your voice the steady and calm tone you knew he needed at the moment as you spoke. “Can you look at me?”
Tommy took a deep breath before looking up at you and you could see the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead along with the way his eyes seemed unable to focus on you. You lifted your hand to his cheek and gently ran your thumb across it in a slow motion.
“What’s your full name?” You asked him. The questions you would ask him changed from time-to-time so he wouldn’t get too used to them. They were simple questions, enough to distract him and get him to focus on you, but not enough to send him into a further panic.
“Thomas Michael Shelby, why?” He raised the glass to his lips again, but his breathing only picked up more.
You took the glass from his hand and set it on the desk behind you then placed his hand on your chest, right where you knew he would be able to feel your heartbeat.
“Focus on my breathing and my voice. What’s John’s wife’s name?” You asked him next.
You watched as he closed his eyes and did as you said, trying to match his breathing to yours as you began taking slower and deeper breaths.
“Esme,” he answered after a moment.
“When’s our wedding anniversary?” You asked next.
”The 17th of August.”
You knew it was silly, but you couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks at how quickly and easily he answered that question. It was the little things like that which reminded you that you were still his number one priority.
“Can you look at me again?” You asked him once you noticed his breathing had calmed down.
Tommy looked to you, his blue eyes immediately finding your eyes and locking onto them. The corner of his mouth tilted into a small smirk and you returned it with a small smile of your own.
“I love you,” you told him as you crawled into his lap and pulled him into a hug, trying to help ground him more.
He immediately returned your hug and buried his head into your neck. Your hands instinctively rose to the back of his head and gently ran your nails across the shaved part of it.
“I love you, too. Even when I’m a mess,” he replied quietly.
“You’re not a mess,” you argued immediately, “you’re my amazing husband, an amazing business leader, an amazing member of parliament, and the strongest person I’ve ever met.”
A sigh left his lips after a long moment and his head remained buried in your neck. His breathing was no longer panicked and he had relaxed into your hold completely.
“I don’t deserve you,” he muttered into your neck.
“Funny,” you said with a chuckle, “I think the same thing of me.” You moved your head enough so you could kiss his temple. “Love you with all my heart, Thomas Shelby. You’re my darling boy.”
As soon as the pet name left your lips, he was chuckling into your neck. It was one anyone else would be maimed for calling him, but somehow you saying it had won him over.
“Love you, too,” he murmured in response.
After a couple long minutes of the two of you curled into each other, and once you were sure he wouldn’t panic speaking of it, you asked him,
“What led to it?”
He immediately knew what you were asking and shook his head in your neck,
“Nothing,” he replied in a defeated voice.
You pulled back enough to cause him to raise his head and she the quirked brow you were giving him,
“Thomas Shelby, what do you tell me every time I try to say the same thing?”
Any time you tried to belittle your problems, Tommy was the one who was telling you that if it was causing you troubles, then it wasn’t nothing and it was worth talking about.
He grumbled something under his breath about using his own words against him and then finally answered.
“The bloody Irish,” he said loud enough for you to hear.
You couldn’t stop the giggle that left your lips. You knew Tommy knew better than to think she was laughing at him or her problems; you were simply laughing at the irony of it all.
“What have my people done now?” You asked, purposefully making your accent come out as thick as possible to pick on him.
“Made an illegal shipment without our say so,” Tommy replied and you could hear the smile in his voice.
“Well… we’ve never liked to obey the English. I think my ancestors are rolling in their graves at how soft I am with you,” you teased, hoping to get at least a chuckle out of him.
It worked and you could feel the way his body shook the slightest bit as the small laugh left him,
“You’re not soft, darling, you’re just civilized,” he teased in return.
You pulled away with a look of mock offense on your face,
“Hey, now! My people are very civilized, we just know how to have fun,” you told him.
You know Tommy held no actual disdain towards you or your Irish blood. He himself was part Irish. He only spoke this way around you to get under your skin and pick on you.
“If you call bar fights being civilized then sure, darling.” The smirk on his face told you he was still only teasing you.
You scrunched up your nose as you looked at him,
“Maybe not your strongest point, love. I’ve come home with a black eye from an English bar fight where, for once, I was genuinely an innocent bystander and I had to keep you from going after half of Small Heath,” you pointed out.
Tommy’s face immediately darkened at the memory of that night and he tried to stutter out some defense of how it was different, but you shook your head no.
“You know that was the night I realized I loved you?” You told him as your own version of the memories flitted through your mind and you tried to distract him from the darker thoughts of his mind.
Your words seemed to catch him off guard and he looked up at you with surprise written on his features.
“Really?” He asked, unsure how else to reply.
You nodded in response and you felt another deep blush creep onto your cheeks. One thing you and Tommy had in common was that vulnerability didn’t come natural to you.
“Would you care to know how I remember that night?” You asked to which he nodded. “It was after a day of shopping with Ada and Esme. You and I had been together for three months at that point, and Ada and Esme were sure we were going to end up getting married, so they wanted to make sure I knew I was part of the family.”
You knew he knew all of this, but you wanted to tell him the whole story of how you had come to the realization and what had happened leading up to the fight.
”After we were done shopping, Esme had John meet us up at The Garrison so we could all have a drink.”
The three of you stumbled through the doors of the pub, giggling over something Ada had said.
John motioned the three of you over to the table he was sitting at, already having ordered a round of drinks for you. It was the first time you had sat outside of the private room the Shelbys had, and the last.
In the middle of the three of you telling John about the new dress Ada had bought, someone who’d had one too many drinks came stumbling over.
“I don’t get you Shelbys. You serve your country in the war then associate with some Irish scum,” he spat out, motioning from John to you.
You had met the other Shelbys while Arthur, Tommy, and John were in France. Polly had needed a bookkeeper for the betting shop and had taken you, even vouching for you when they had returned. After a year of working with them, one incident where you had been used as bait that had gone too far, and you’d been forced to defend yourself, Tommy had decided to make you an official Peaky Blinder. You may not wear your Peaky cap, but the bladed item was also on you. Offers had been made to hide blades in other women’s items of clothing, but you had denied. You had learned how to hide the cap among scarves, shawls, or in your bags and you wanted the official Peaky Blinders symbol.
John had immediately jumped to your defense that night in The Garrison.
“She’s a damn Peaky Blinder and has been for years! She can be trusted as well as any Englishman or woman.” He had defended, standing up to meet the man eye-to-eye as a warning to leave.
“Do you know who you’re talking about?” Ada said next, standing up also, “Irish or not, she’s Tommy’s girl and a Blinder.”
“I don’t give a shit if she’s Tommy’s current whore or not. She’s Irish scum and I don’t want to be in a pub with the likes of her,” the man spat back at Ada.
Esme and you both stood up at this and the rest of the pub had silenced as they watched the scene unfold. Seemingly out of thin air, a couple other Blinders that were present came to stand beside John as he told the man to leave the pub while he could still see the door.
Next thing you knew, Esme had pulled you harshly out of the way as a glass shattered against the wall behind you.
Chaos broke out immediately. Despite you trying to fight against them, a couple patrons or other members of the Peaky Blinders (you weren’t sure which) had tried to drag you, Ada, and Esme back to the office. During the mix, a blow landed on your cheek and you quickly swung back.
The fight seemed to halt immediately after. Even if the guy was brave enough to harass you for being Irish, throw a glass at your head, and fight John over everything, everyone else seemed to realize the grave mistake that had been made in that moment.
No one touched Thomas Shelby’s woman, and there she was with a bruise already evident on her cheek.
John grabbed the guy by the scruff of the neck like he was nothing more than a rabid dog, called for you to follow him, and called for Esme and Ada to be walked back to the betting shop and for all the members of the Peaky Blinders present to go there, also.
You walked with John to the canal and were told by John that you ‘could do the honors of killing the bastard’ yourself.
After the deed was done, the two of you had walked back to the betting shop and arrived at the same time as Tommy.
You remembered the worry on his face as he looked for you, the anger that took over when he spotted the black eye, him screaming at everyone to give him an answer as to what had happened and who had harmed you, and the way he had pulled you into his arms in a hug that nearly crushed you.
You remembered the feeling of safety that washed over you once you were in his arms, the feeling of home, and the way you were able to ignore the chaos around you as others explained what exactly had happened that night.
You remembered the way he wouldn’t let anyone else touch you until he had personally looked you over for any injuries.
You remembered the look he had when you told him you’d killed the man. The disappointment over not being the one to do it himself, but the pride in you standing up for yourself.
“I remember being absolutely terrified when it finally clicked in my head what I was feeling. I have never feared you, but I was terrified of ever getting my heart broken again. I knew Esme and Ada had said they were sure we would be married, but my own insecurities came into play, and I was terrified you’d realize how much of a mess I could be and you’d leave me,” you told him, leaned in and kissing him softly for a moment before continuing on, “You never left me. Even when we’ve fought, you never let me feel like you were going to leave me. I learned that no matter what happened, you’d move the earth, heavens, and hells to make sure you always came back to me.”
Tommy remained silent as you finished your story. He opened his mouth several times to speak, but it seemed you had actually managed to make the man speechless.
“I love you, Thomas Michael Shelby,” you muttered as you leaned in to kiss him again, “I meant it the first time I said those words, when I accepted your proposal, when we said them at the altar, when I say them now, and every time in between. You’re my darling boy through it all.”
His hand came up to cup your face and he rested his forehead against yours, “I’ve meant them all, too. You’re mine until the end of time.”
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coolprettyleo · 2 days
Text
my soul has changed? - will smith au
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wc: 1.4k
tw: depression, suggestion of an ED, awkwardness? mean girl.
will smith x oc celebrini sister!
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
april celebrini was in a point of her life where everything felt still. she was pretty sure she was suffering from depression and it was a cycle she didn't know how to get out of.
she would wake up, go to school, go to work, and then sleep. she was lucky if she fitted a meal in between that meant she had lost tons of weight.
she had been a pretty healthy teen, she played hockey up until high school alongside her brothers; but when the time came to play college hockey, she got no offers. contributing to her depression.
it was a sport she held so much love and dedication, she couldn't understand why she hadn't been good enough? I mean her brothers were good enough, they got college offers. macklin was even projected to go first overall, so why couldn't she?
those were thoughts that were constantly haunting her mind. if she found something to forget them they would flood back in, like if they wanted her to be a lifeless doll she had been feeling like.
her family had been really worried for her. she had finally seen her brothers after a year, at the NCCAA playoffs and it only caused them to worry more.
flashbacks
april knew that macklin and aiden were gonna bombard her with questions as soon as they were alone. they could hardly recognize her. growing up she was always a smiling person with a big personality and now she was about forty pounds lighter and was a ghost of the person she used to be.
"april what's going on" macklin said shutting the door behind him.
"what do you mean"
"cut the bullshit. I know your not okay, you barley answer my text anymore, what's wrong"
"it's nothing mack-"
"no it's not nothing, maybe I can fix it-
"you cant 'fix' it"
"and why not-"
"because I don't know what wrong with me!"
that had been about two weeks ago. she just didn't know what to tell her family. she really didn't understand why she had been feeling that way.
she was currently at work where she was a barista in a cute coffee shop. she honestly loved working there, she had got the job when she was in high school and had kept it till college. seeing as she didn’t move far away for college, choosing to stay close to her parents.
she often wondered if she might be happier if she moved away just like everyone else did, just like her brothers did. but it would always end in her telling herself; that it's not worth dwelling on.
it was currently six am and at this time of day there weren’t many customers. the cafe was always busy mid day when people were looking to find somewhere to study.
so she was surprised when she turned the open side around, to find a boy waiting outside to come in. a boy who looked a lot like will smith.
april wasn’t an idiot to hockey, she kept up with it a fairly good amount, so she would have to be living under a rock to not know the guy who dominated the ice at her brothers rivalry school.
that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to act like she didn’t know him.
he reached for the handle and took a look at her before turning as red as a tomato and blushing,
“hey, are you guys open?” he asked nervously, mentally slapping himself because he just saw her turn the sign around, to ‘open’
“uhm yeah I’ll be with you in a sec” she told him.
will couldn’t help but think her voice was cute. she had a rasp to it that made him want to give her everything she’s ever wanted.
april finished up, putting the coffee too brew and turned to the counter.
“okay! order when your ready”
“uhm. i actually never been here before… any recs?” he asked after a moment nervously scratching his neck.
“well I get a dirty chai, but considering my brothers hate it, you might hate it too… I guess you might like a frap?” she told him, a little too monotone.
“yeah okay” he told her again nervously. he found her to be breathtakingly beautiful.
he paid and stood back as she got to making the drink.
“you from here?” will asked hoping to make small talk.
“uhm kinda. I was born in Vancouver but moved here when my dad got a job”
will panicked. oh god was she still in highschool
april must of saw the worry on his face because she added,
“that was a couple years ago, im eighteen now” she said smiling at his face. something she didn’t do often anymore.
“oh, i’m eighteen too”
“oh yeah, what brings you to san jose, school?” she said innocently knowing very well he was drafted here and was most likely here to work on development.
“no. I”m came to meet with some people here. I go to boston college” he answered. april starting to not feel so bad because she saw he didn’t want to right away say he was a hockey player.
“far from home huh”
“yeah, i’m literally across the country from everything and everybody i’ve ever known” he told her wanting to slap himself. did she need to know that!?!
“i’m sorry. it’ll get easier” she said remembering her brother had been homesick too but utimatly started feeling better after some time-- as she handing him his drinks and gave him a sympathetic face.
“yeah i hope so, i should be moving here soon, if everything goes right” he said as he took a sip.
“hey this is good!” he said taking another sip as april smiled. something that will thought looked amazing on her.
april smiled at him remembering the fact her brothers liked that drink. boys were so typical
“i’m glad… and hey— if you ever need a friend in town my names april” she told him as she held her hand out to him to shake.
will starred at it for a moment before he quickly met her hand.
“will” he told the girl with a smile.
they were cut out of there moment when two customers walked in.
“I should get back to work. i’ll see you around will” she told him as he smiled a nodded and walked right out.
say something! ask for my number! do anything!
april felt really dumb after she basically just presented herself in a silver platter to the boy and he didn’t finish his part in asking for her number. he had definitely rejected her in the nicest way someone possibly could.
meanwhile will got into the Uber with a gitty feeling. she seemed really cool and having someone to hang out with other than his teammates was going to be so nice.
he was midway into the meeting with some general managers when he realized he didn’t even ask for her number.
“oh my god” he mumbled as he came to the realization
"i'm sorry?" one of the GM's said confused.
“uhh— I said I was excited to join the franchise!” he covered up, feeling like an idiot.
hopefully she was still there after the meeting.
the meeting had gone a little to long for his liking and as he raced down to the coffee shop he hoped she was working a long shift.
he opened the door to see a blonde girl who looked old but yet looked young, and a taller boy with curly hair working behind the counter.
“hi. is april working today?” he said breathlessly
the blonde eyed him for a moment before smirking,
“I don't recall an april ever working here...my name samantha though” she said with a face that will knew was a face of someone who was lying.
“yes there is, she helped me earlier-"
“if your here to file a complaint against her, I can totally help you then,” she said
“no she was great— wait, you said you didn’t know an april-“
“your looking for april” the other barista cut in
“yeah she was here earlier, i was hoping she was still here”
“she got off like two hours ago but i can give you her number!” the curly haired boy told will. he was one of aprils friends and he wasn’t going to ruin this opportunity for her.
“you totally can’t do that!” the blonde girl said in a nasally voice.
“shutup samantha. go take candy from a baby or something” he sassily told her.
she rolled her eyes before walking away to wipe a table down.
“sorry about her, here’s her number— good luck!”
“thankyou so much” he told him as he thought about what exactly to text the pretty girl.
both april and will not knowing the epic love story they were about embark on.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
hi guys! i hope this is kinda good, dont feel shy to send in ask and au thoughts… i like never get any but im so open to it!!
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tabbedtabby · 12 hours
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good luck, babe! | chapter 2
regina george x reader
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summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.
a/n: i wasn’t gonna add cady but now i am because it’s convenient for me so just pretend she’s in the last chapter lol. also they get high way faster than what’s accurate but i wrote this in like 4 sittings it felt longer to me pls spare me. if the picture collage thing is ugly i’m sorry i’m not a tumblr native 😭 but anyways big thanks to everyone who interacted with the first chapter mwah!!!!! (photo creds from left to right: @/mediorcesav on insta, @/marvelsgirl616, casual mv by chappell roan)
——————————————————————
When the bell rings after 7th period, you’re already halfway out the door.
You’re already sober enough from earlier so you’re desperate to get outside, even if Regina will be there. You bite the inside of your mouth in annoyance. You like your after school alone time; you didn’t want the person who literally ruined your social life to be there. At least maybe she’ll leave right after you smoke. You realize she most likely won’t after you remember she drives. How could you forget that bedazzled pink Jeep?
You feel the dappled sunlight sink heat into your skin once you enter the woods behind the baseball field. It really was a nice day. You make your way to your usual spot and lift up the pile of sticks and leaves that hide your forest stash. The guy who sells to you charges a ridiculous amount for carts compared to just the plant so you try to use them sparingly. Even if this shit stinks up the whole forest.
You’re not sure if Regina will care or not if you start without her, so you pull out your phone to pass the time. Besides, you want to be sober anyway when she finally shows.
After about 20 minutes of standing there, you start to get impatient. You almost pull the bag out to start without her before you finally see a flash of blonde hair from behind the trees.
“Took you long enough.” you mutter, already opening the bag without paying Regina much attention. Your patience was windeled, and you don’t especially want to talk to her anyway.
“Sorry I have a social life. I guess you wouldn’t know,” she snaps back, her voice strained.
You feel the annoyance crawl down your back like a centipede, and you have to bite the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from saying something back to her. She holds basically your life in her hands since you’d be both fucked and poor if she decided to snitch on you. Probably not a good idea to start a fight on the first day of your little deal, but she made it difficult.
You grab one of the cans from under the pile of leaves as you see Regina cross her arms a couple feet away from you. Her eyes watching your every move makes you a bit wary on instinct. You feel like a mouse being stalked by a snake. You grab a decently sized piece out of the bag and put it on the crushed can. You couldn’t be bothered to roll your own blunts, so this was the next best thing.
“How much have you smoked before?” you ask, just wanting a general idea on how much she should have so that you wouldn’t have to drag her to the parking lot. Apparently, she takes great offense.
“What are you, my mom? Just hurry up so I can get out of here,” she says begrudgingly, like being out here was the biggest possible drag on her life. She was really grating on your last nerve right now.
“Trying my best.” you respond dryly, giving her a snide smile as you fiddle with the lighter.
“Well, obviously it’s not good enough. What are you even doing, anyway? This is the shadiest shit I’ve ever seen—”
You blow the first hit out of your mouth harshly. “Can you please just shut the fuck up? I don’t want to be out here with you either!”
“That’s shocking. I’m surprised this isn’t your ultimate wet dream, being alone in the forest with me,” Regina sneers, nothing but disgust on her face. Like you were some kind of animal instead of human.
“What’s that going off of? The photo collection that you made up?” you snap, putting the can down for a minute. “Believe me, I want nothing to do with you either. But since we’re gonna be out here every day, you could at least make it a little easier.”
You can tell she wants to rip your throat out just by the way she looks at you. Pursed lips, downturned eyebrows, piercing blue eyes surrounded by eyeliner almost as sharp as the look she’s giving you right now. She’s way too tense for someone about to get high.
“Whatever.” she finally says, although the edge to her voice makes you want to scoff. Better not to sour her mood more than necessary, though.
Pleased with the newfound silence, you light the piece on top of the can once more and take another hit. It’s strong enough to make you cough, and you sit down against the foot of a tree. Regina raises an eyebrow at you.
“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of professional,” she says, but her voice isn’t quite as taunting as before. It almost sounded like a joke. Maybe she was considering not making this hell for you after all.
“It’s not good if it doesn’t make you cough.” you respond with a shrug. She looks at you expectantly, but you pretend you don’t see. You don’t want to have to stand back up just to pass her the can.
Eventually, she sits next to you (albeit, begrudgingly) and you pass the can to her, lighting it again when she puts her lips up to it. She explodes into a coughing fit the minute the smoke hits her lungs.
You can’t help but snicker at the sight of Regina George coughing her lungs out with just one hit from the can. It was almost strange to see her not perfectly arranged the way she was at school. You were up close enough to see the strings that sew her together.
She glares at you from the corner of her eye, but it only makes you laugh harder. You’re acting stupid right now and you’re aware of it, but you can’t stop. It’s a nice sort of high. Not like when you smoke too much and everything starts to blur together, which happens more than you’d like to admit. But this is nice. You lean back until your back touches the grass.
Regina has a couple more hits until she’s smoked about everything that’ll come out of it, and you both just lay there on the forest floor. You’re surprised she isn’t whining about dirt getting on her outfit. Maybe she’s too stoned to care. She never did answer your question about her tolerance.
Your thoughts go elsewhere as you stare up at the sky. The tops of the trees cover most of it. The sun from behind the leaves make them look almost as if they are glowing. It’s so beautiful. You wish you could reach up and feel it between your own fingertips, the fabric of the sky.
“You don’t care about what I think about you.” You hear Regina say, her voice only a couple of feet away from you. It sounds more like a statement than a question.
You don’t why it’s funny to you, but it is. You feel the laugh escape your lips before you can stop it.
“I guess not.” you respond, even though you’re not certain if she wanted a response. It sounded like she was just thinking out loud. You feel that.
“Everyone else does. They grovel to me like lap dogs.” she says amusingly, although her voice drags and you can tell she’s starting to get tired.
“You don’t like it?” you ask with surprise.
“It’s the way it should be,” she declares, as if you’re stupid for even asking. “But everyone else is a less hot version of me. It gets annoying talking to the same clones that hang onto my every word. Like, just be normal for once in your life,” Regina complains, an annoyed edge in her tone near the end. Somehow you could tell she was talking about Gretchen. That poor girl really did hang onto every little thing Regina said or did. It was almost worshipful. But in an unfortunate, sad kind of way.
Her problems didn’t seem all that hard compared to others, but you don’t say anything. It’s intesting to you to hear her talk about this stuff, to see what goes on in her head. You’d never really considered what her life was like. You wonder if there’s a reason she’s the way that she is. There must be. Everyone’s a product of their environment in some shape or form. Of course, it doesn’t excuse everything she’s done, but that thought makes you want to get inside her head somehow.
You shake your head at the silly train of thought. Regina George was just plain mean. Nothing more to it. You turn your head to look at her as you realize you never responded.
Her eyes are closed, hair splayed out on the forest ground. She looks stoned as fuck, her chest rising and falling dangerously slow. You snort and roll your eyes. How low was her tolerance? You already felt mostly normal again.
Somehow she still manages to look perfect, even if you could mistake her as a corpse. You lay your head back down. Your parents wouldn’t mind if you were home a little late, right?
-
After that, you and Regina would meet to smoke behind the school almost every day, except when Regina had plans with her friends and you would just go alone. You still wish she wasn’t there, but sometimes she’s okay to talk to when she isn’t being a priss. She complains about her friends and boys and how sometimes in the morning her eyelash curler refuses to work. It’s entertaining to hear about how shallow her problems are. You still want to punch her most of the time, though.
This time around, however, she’s complaining about math. Something about her teacher failing her on purpose or something to make her have sex with him to get her grade up. You seriously doubt that’s true, but you listen anyway.
“Like, he’s totally obsessed with me. I know how to do the work, but he always marks it as wrong anyway. That Cady girl helps me with it, and she’s some kind of math freak.” Regina exclaims, taking a huge hit from the smoking can. She immediately sputters and you take the can back from her with a slight roll of your eyes. That’s probably enough for her.
“Is she, though?” you ask, taking a hit from the can yourself. “She’s in my Calc class and lately she’s been doing really shitty. I guess you guys are rubbing off on her,” you say with amusement.
Regina takes a deep breath, an agitated sigh coming out of her. “What’s the point of her tutoring me, then? They’re gonna take me off the soccer team if I don’t start passing like all of my classes. It’s like she wants me to fail.” she seethes, and she sounds genuinely upset. She could afford to pay attention in class instead of doing her makeup if better grades is what she wants, but alas.
You kind of want to offer to help her, but it’s her own fault so you bite your tongue. You put the can down with a sharp sigh. You’d rather not smoke too much around her in fear that you’ll start acting stupid and she’ll post it all over the internet. Just the slightly more giggly high is fine for now.
Regina stares bullets through you as your stash back under the pile of leaves. You pick up your backpack and get ready to leave. You feel fine enough to walk home.
“You’re not gonna offer to help me?” she asks indignantly, as if you owed it to her. You have to bite your lip to keep from groaning in annoyance. Could she be any more of a spoiled brat?
“Why would I do that?” you respond, feeling that your distaste seeps through your voice as well as your expression. You’re tired, both from school and from hanging out with Regina for too long. You just want to go home.
“Because I’m keeping your secret?” she says with that tone that reminds you of a viper. The one she uses to get whatever she wants from people by threatening to ruin them. Your chest bubbles with that same anger as that day in the cafeteria.
“Dude, I’m literally your plug. I’ve done enough for you to keep your mouth shut.” you snap, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. She was really starting to piss you off. That’s how it was with Regina; just when you think she’s all right, she starts doing this bullshit again.
“So what? I don’t need weed. I can break our deal whenever I want. Besides, you’ll only tutor me until the end of the month. It’s not that deep.” It’s only the beginning of October, so you’d be wasting more of your time with her for the next month, but of course she doesn’t include that. God, you’re so pissed off, but what can you do? Not be able to smoke anymore? Get suspended again? You hate that she can just hang this over your head until you comply. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as you stare at her, one of her hands on her hip and her eyebrows raised as if you’re a dog she just told to heel that won’t listen. Your hands bunch into tight fists until your knuckles turn white. You really wish you had seen her with that bruise right about now.
“Fine.” you spit, pushing your way out of the clearing and back towards the school. Great. Now it would take even longer to shake Regina off. You shoulder branches of leaves out of your way, your feet kicking at the dirt. You wished she could just be fucking normal and that she never started any of this in the first place.
“I better see you tomorrow, loser!” You hear Regina scream from somewhere behind you. God, you were gonna kill her. Or yourself. Whichever came first.
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I had a thought for a creator but they didn't believe they were the creator and could influence others into believing it too.
The two characters are Sara kujou and yae miko
@mastadon64 here you go!
Gaslight, Gatekeep, Godboss - Kujou Sara and Yae Miko
Kujou Sara
Cw: Sexual innuendos
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-Honestly, waking up in Teyvat, you had a hard time convincing yourself you weren’t dreaming
-(It took you tumbling down a hill and slamming into a particularly sharp rock to realize it was not a dream. Also, ow)
-(You ignored the way your blood was golden. You were pretty sure you’d never seen the Genshin characters bleed anyways. It was probably just censoring. Totally.)
-Some way or another, you ended up in Inazuma
-Honestly, it wasn’t as bad as you were expecting
-Most of the creatures were pretty chill, and as long as you avoided the people, you didn’t get in much trouble
-And then you kicked a Tenryou commission officer in the face and got arrested
-You know, jail wasn’t as bad as you expected either!
-Your cellmates weren’t too bad either- one of them asked you if you were god, which was weird, because you didn’t look anything like the Shogun, but you gave him a stick of dango and he shut up
-(You might not have been a god, but the fact that you managed to keep your inventory from the game was the closest thing to a divine blessing that you could imagine. Who needs a gnosis when you have your own pocket dimension?)
-It’s about half an hour before you’re taken from your cell for questioning
-You walk into a small interrogation room, shock igniting in your chest as you spot Kujou Sara
-Wasn’t she important?
-Was kicking that guy in the face really such a grave offense?
-“Are you the Creator God?” She asks, deathly serious
-Why did people keep asking you this???
-You’re pretty sure you don’t look too godly, garbed in stolen clothes that you’re ninety percent sure you put on wrong, a fading bite mark on your arm from when you tried to pet a rifthound, leaves in your hair. Honestly, you looked pretty disheveled, and…
-“Is that your way of saying you think I’m hot? Like… godly or whatever?”
-Considering the way the Tengu’s face turns a vibrant red, you’re either very right, or very wrong
-It’d be funnier if you were right though, so you press on
-“I mean, not that I’m not into it, but I’m feeling kinda iffy about the power dynamic here- prisoner and cop is a cute trope and all, but not all that smart in real life, I mean I get it if it’s a kink or whatever, I know handcuffs are attractive, but as of right now it’s immoral-”
-“Shut up. Please.” Sara mumbled, covering her red face with her hand. Her hair has more volume than usual, tiny sparks of static dancing between the strands
-“… I mean after I get out of prison I’d totally be down to go on a date, and if you feed me well enough I might even let you handcuff me.” You add.
-The silence in the room is heavy
-“Get out.”
-“Yes ma’am. Hm. No. Yes Mommy? Yes Master-“
-You’re cut off by an electrically charged arrow striking the wall beside your head.
-“Out.”
-“Okay!”
-You’re released from prison three days later, now with a whole gaggle of new friends from criminals
-(You ignored the fact that some of them made really important sounding speeches swearing their fealty to you. Also the small shrine they were building in your honor. If you didn’t acknowledge it, it didn’t exist)
-You were surprised that as soon as you left, you were met with a glaring Kujou Sara, who takes your hand in her own
-“Am I being arrested again?”
-“… I’m going to take you on a date. And then I’m going to handcuff you.”
-“Yes Mommy!”
-“I Will Shoot You Again.”
Yae Miko
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-You had to admit, stumbling upon a small shrine that seemed to be dedicated to your doppelgänger was creepy
-But you had also just been Isekaied to video game land, so you were pretty adaptable at the moment.
-Or high on adrenaline.
-You pick up one of the Sunsiettas from the shrine, biting down and relaxing, until-
-“Your excellency?!” A voice squeaks, and looking up you see a very frazzled shrine maiden staring at you.
-“Uh. No?” You say, swallowing the Sunsietta.
-The shrine maiden starts sobbing. “Your excellency!”
-“Oh- no- I’m- uh- I’m like you? You know? I’m uh… a messiah? Priest? Prophet? Whatever gets you to stop crying?” You awkwardly pat her head.
-“You- you’re the Creators chosen one?” She blubbers.
-“Uh. Yeah. Totally. Stop crying.”
-“CHOSEN ONE!” And she’s crying again
-After a lot of crying, you’re led to the Grand Narukami shrine, where you’re introduced to the head shrine maiden as the chosen one
-“… Are you sure she’s not just the creator?”
-“You flatter me. I’m just gods favoritist and most specialist little princess.”
-The Kitsune likes this. Perhaps too much, but we’ll let her have her fun
-And thus, the war to get you to admit that you’re the Creator begins, hidden under the guise of her introducing you to chosen one duties
-She takes you on a pilgrimage all across Inazuma first, going to the most dangerous places possible just to put you in danger and save you at the last second, disappointed that you never use godly powers to save (read: reveal) yourself
-She meditates with you, and paints obscure markings on your face when you fall asleep, which you have to pass off as messages from the creator
-She takes you to meet the Shogun, but after leaving you alone for five minutes, returns to you teaching her poker and robbing her blind. You cited divine luck and she pretended she didn’t notice the cards stuffed inside your sleeve
-It ends pretty anticlimactically, actually
-She’s introducing you to the local foxes, when you trip over a rock and face plant into the floor
-And get a nose bleed
-Miko can’t help but doubling over in laughter at the sight of your pout as golden blood drips down your face
-“And how are you explaining this one, Oh revered Chosen One?”
-“Genetic condition.”
-The laughter doubles
129 notes · View notes
Text
WHO AM I??
Hi baby
I’m going to talk a little bit about myself
I don’t wanna reveal too much
My face and everything else will remain anonymous for safety and privacy💕
Name:
My name is Honey(yes this is my birth name lol)
You can call me by my name or honeybee
Or even honeycomb
Do NOT call me beehive 😡
Unless it’s related to Beyoncè💕
Age: 23
Topics:
I discuss the void state, Law of assumption,Reality Shifting (I haven’t talked about this yet but will if you need more info)
And All kinds of Manifestation methods
How to talk to Honey!!!
Just dm me any questions I don’t take asks anymore so if you have any questions just feel free to dm me
Ethnicity/Nationality
My mom is Afro Peruvian, Indian,and Haitian
My dad is Jamaican
Sooo
I’m black hehe🤟🏾
I don’t do these I’m super private it’s soooo weird omg
What do I like??
Music food animals
Did I say music because
MUSIC!!!!!!
My favorite artists
I love all kinds of music
Even death metal occasionally
I like Harry Styles,Kid Cudi,Lady Gaga The Beatles,Ice Spice and many moreeeee
I also love movies
Literally almost any kind
But anyways
Let’s talk about something more interesting!!
Now that you know me(kind of)
I want you to know about this technique I discovered
It’s not new at all
In fact ppl on here have already talked about it I’m just late
As usual 😔
Anywayyyyyy
There’s a technique I want you all to try
It’s called the
“Wim hof breathing”
Method
No methods are needed But if you really want one
Then here you go pookie
(Found this on a website but it won’t let me copy the link😔)
WIM HOF BREATHING METHOD
Find a comfortable position.
Breathe in deeply through the nose or mouth and through the belly to the chest. Then let the breath go unforced.
Exhale through the mouth, then immediately breathe in again.
Take 30–40 such breaths in short bursts.
Take one final, deep inhalation then let the air out and stop inhaling. Hold the breath until you feel the urge to breathe again.
Inhale very deeply to full capacity and hold for 15 seconds, then let it go. This completes the first round.
Repeat the whole process, steps #2-6, 3-4 times.
After completion take time to meditate and enjoy the state of deep relaxation
After the very last step you should be a deep trance like state you should be really relaxed
I recommend that you let your next subliminal play
Which should be
Either a theta or epilson wave track or pink noise
Make sure your desired subliminal that plays after is Not a guided meditation you wanna still be in a trance
Start affirming in that point
And don’t stop
Just feel how relaxed you are feel that powerless body but powerful mind
Your body is at ease your soul and mind collide in such ways that allows you to breathe freely without any stress no harm
In the void state
Your main goal should be getting peace
Because if you’re entering just affirm
You’ll likely put it on a pedestal you’ll get frustrated and give up
It is not a wish granter bitch
It’s you
Baby you are powerful
Baby you are pretty
Baby you can tap in the void
And make the bring the 4D to your 3D and make it your home
Don’t use the void as a wish granter
Use it for peace
Don’t treat the 3D like the enemy
Treat it like a friend
After all it exists the way it does because of your assumptions
Whether you say this is hard or this is easy
Sugar, you’re right either way
Because if you assume something then that’s how it’ll be
If you think you’re pretty you’re pretty
But if you think you’re broke
Then you’re broke
If you think you’re rich
Then you’re rich baby
You could have wings
Superpowers
Be the biggest singer or rapper in the world
Star in the next Dune Movie
Be best friends with Ariana Grande
Be a Scientist
Be smarter than Albert Einstein(I mean was he actually super intelligent if he lacked common sense)
You could be get a bigger butt!!
I mean didn’t necessarily have a pancake ass
But I definitely didn’t have a Nicki Minaj
BUT I DO NOW!!!!
And bestie you can too!
Plastic surgery who???
Do we look like a Kardashian-Jenner?? I think the f not🙄
The void is our plastic surgeon
You wanna a smaller nose?
Got it
Tig ole biddies?
Got it
Nicki Minaj butt?
Got it
Floor length hair?
Got it?
Whatever you want to change about yourself
Got it!
And for the last time babies
You ALWAYS ENTER THE VOID EVERYTIME YOU SLEEP
Mentally just be
Physically sleep
In that moment baby
Forget the 3D and its fuck ass bob
Because the 3Ds not your enemy but its your puppet
You’re a ventriloquist CONTROL THAT MF
The 4D is you
The void is you
Quit saying what you can’t do babe
You CAN BECAUSE YOU ALREADY DID AND YOU STILL DO
“HoNEy I StiLL didNT gET inTO tHe vOiD”
YES YOU DID!!!!!!
You did it
You just didn’t know
Bro the void is just recognizing you’re asleep
And getting in contact with your mind
Which is where you already go when you go to sleep
So ha
Billie
There’s your answer
When we fall asleep
That’s where we go
The mf Void State
The only thing your cute ass has to do baby
Is just be aware
When Neville Goddard says just “BE”
Bitch just BE
That’s it
Be aware
Like that SpongeBob episode
“Be the crane”
Be the Void
It’s just you love
So why you stressing
Why complicate something YOU created?!
Baby girl make it make sense
Own your power bitch
I love you My darlings
Month is almost over
Bring me my success stories
Or I’ll be your sleep paralysis demon 😈
(Just kidding)
Or am I;)
NOW BITCH LOOK!!!!
YAYYYY
Imma keep pressuring you to listen to this(NOTE YOU DO NOT NEED SUBLIMINALS)
But I like this one🫠
Wrong emoji
I can’t find that cute one at the moment I’m rushing cuz I wanna eat my burger!
SLADE:
https://youtu.be/oKU8YIicYQg?feature=shared
THIS
because it’s soooo peaceful
Slade is the best
BYE BITCH GO GET THAT DREAM LIFE NOW!!!
I love you ⭐️💕
youtube
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rush-the-stars · 9 hours
Text
AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART I
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|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.5k || ao3 || Part II -> coming soon! || masterlist ||
minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only
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“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”
***
Suguru tries to tame you.
━─━────༺༻────━─━
✧ SPRING FEVER collab masterlist ✧
cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader if you squint, biting, blood, marking, eventual forced bathing in later parts, eventual forced feeding in later parts, eventual smut in later parts; masturbation, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?
a/n: this is for @lorelune 's SPRING FEVER collab!! i have been working on this for awhile now and i am excited to share it! this should be about 3 parts...i am very close to finishing the whole thing so i should be releasing a part a week for the next two weeks!
thank you for reading!! i would love to hear your thoughts <333
━─━────༺༻────━─━
“I think you’d be perfect.” 
Suguru’s voice is a caress, low and soft, as he sits across from you. 
Somehow, he always makes you feel like he is just beneath the surface of your skin, even if there is a respectable distance between you. He always makes you feel as if he is lurking somewhere in the lowest parts of you, pulling at strings you once thought hidden to yourself. 
You’ve kept your distance for this reason.
You swallow hard. 
And then you manage to get your voice to unstick, to find it somewhere inside of you and bring it to life. It’s firmer than you’re anticipating and you’re proud;
“I don’t think I would be.” 
Suguru looks at you in a way that makes you feel as if he’s seeing through you, pulling you open slowly to gaze at all the inner workings of you. His dark eyes are keen, so sharp, even if they’re shaded by half-lidded lashes. 
He smiles pleasantly and indulges you, but you know he believes very firmly that he is, in fact, right, “why not?” 
“I told you when I agreed to join you—all I wanted in exchange for helping you, was to be an unbound Omega.” You force yourself to meet his eyes and to not get sucked into the dark tide of them. 
“You asked for my protection.” He reminds you. 
Your eyes flash this time, heated, a little spark that skitters to life inside of you.
“I didn’t—“ 
“Is that not what you’d call it?” Suguru asks, “when I interfered, every time, to be sure no other Alpha got to you? Or when I scented you to keep them away?”
Prickling warmth dots your cheeks, can feel at the back of your neck, too, the tips of your ears. You try a different tactic. 
“I’m not a homemaker.” 
His smile is soft, “I don’t want a homemaker.” 
“I’m not obedient.” You counter again, as if you could dissuade Suguru Getou once he’s made up his mind.
“You’ve been quite good for me.” Suguru says smugly and this time, a little noise of embarrassment or frustration eeks out of you. A short, sharp little growl from your throat, almost a groan of irritation.  
“I—I’m doing your dirty work. That’s our agreement! You give me assignments that I complete and in return, I get my freedom.” 
“I don’t know why you’re so opposed to this. Is it not similar already to what we have now?” He asks simply, “I’d still let you roam, if that’s what you’re so scared of.” 
“No it’s that—that power and mentality that I don’t want you to have over me.” You snap. 
“I already have it,” he says and it isn’t intended to be cruel, but certainly is, “how long do you think you’d last, without the protection of an Alpha?” 
“I didn’t have any before you.” 
“You were starving, injured, and constantly on the run before me.” You open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off, “it would still give you what you want.” 
“I don’t want to be yours.” You say frankly, perhaps to be cruel yourself. And then you show teeth a little, flash them in warning, “I don’t want your mark.”
Suguru looks amused, if anything, by your display. 
His smile is knowing and insufferable. It makes your anger ratchet up inside of you, hackles rising. You feel a little growl working its way out of your throat. It tears out of you in annoyance, when he says, “I don’t believe you.” 
You slam the door so hard on its hinges that it rattles the entire wall. You wish it would rattle all the world. 
***
Your cursed technique rips to life like a star exploding outwards. 
Beast that you are, it overtakes you, transforms you until you are all claws and dripping, little fangs. Your body elongates, elegant, and built for speed, viciousness. The horns atop your head are sharp, too, curled the slightest into a crescent shape. The beast in you stretches and pulls at your bones, fits your skin to it in a way that you have come to know well. 
(“Cursed technique: Cursed Creature,” Suguru hums, “allows you to turn into a cursed version of yourself, a sort of,” he pauses, looking you over, “monster?” 
“That’s right.” You tell him, body trembling all over, in dire need of food. Care. Sleep. 
He places a large hand on top of your head, strokes gently, until his hand nudges your cheek, beneath your chin so you are forced to look up into his eyes. Depthless violet. 
“You have a deal.”)
The sorcerer is cast backward with the force of your transformation. In this form, everything heightens, sharpening into brilliance. So much brighter, clearer. So much more overwhelming. 
You are a flash of darkness when you move, a mass of lethality. 
The sorcerer doesn’t stand a chance, the moment you dash past him with a deep swipe of your claws, you know this will be an easy match. You chitter in this form, excited, warbly little sound erupting from you before you careen towards him again. 
This time, he is warped away. 
But you are fast, changing your trajectory mid-step to catch up to where he was warped. 
Except, this time, a white haired sorcerer takes his place. 
Your claws meet air. 
A growling hiss erupts from your throat. 
Satoru Gojo. 
Suguru told you to stay away from him. At all costs.
And speak of the devil, your name is called, whistled almost. Your head turns to find Suguru appearing, too. 
Faintly, the more human part of you wonders what the occasion is. 
For a moment, all you can see is threat. Your hackles rise as your growling gets lower, more sinister, your form moving behind Gojo as if you might circle him, unable to let down your guard. 
“Call off your pet,” Gojo says. 
Suguru calls your name again and there’s something else in his tone now, a little sharper. 
(Fear, you wonder faintly, in some far away part of your mind. Is he worried Gojo would hurt you?)
You come to heel at Suguru’s side, remaining in this form, making a low, threatening sound still. Warning. Your claws still drip with the blood of that sorcerer. 
“Go,” Suguru says to you. 
Your head snaps to look at him, eyes narrowing. “I’m not leaving,” you snap and the words have a bite to it, around the curves of your fangs. You look back at Gojo. If this comes to blows, you don’t want Suguru facing Gojo alone–you don’t want to leave his back suddenly unguarded. 
It’s counterintuitive to you, goes against all of your instincts. You don’t leave him, you don’t leave his side, his back. 
“Go,” Suguru says, harsher this time and the command seeps into you. You waver. And then, “I won’t tell you again.” 
When you hiss at him in that warbling way of curses, he smiles faintly, almost fondly, as your teeth drip with venom. But you do listen to him this time.
And with your heightened hearing, you hear Gojo underneath his breath as you slink away;
“How interesting.” 
***
When Suguru returns to you, he is unharmed. 
You’d paced the length of the hallway outside of his room in the compound until you could have worn a hole into it. 
Few would be brave enough to wait for Suguru outside his door. 
When he arrives, he is mildly surprised to see you, before his expression melts into a sort of—smugness. A knowing glint to his eyes. 
“Why would you send me away?” You snap.
“You could’ve gone in, you know, if it would’ve soothed you.” Suguru says instead, head nodding towards the door to his suite. “Would you like a key?” 
You blanche, taking a half step back, “I don’t—“
It allows him to get to his door and open it. You’ve been here before, in the privacy of his suite, but now it feels strange. A little different. He holds the door open for you. 
You glance at the threshold and feel as if you’re making an important decision. 
“Come on,” he says smoothly and before you can think twice about it, you are being led inside, his hand drifting somewhere near your lower back. He never touches you, the feeling is a phantom one, the impression of it. You shiver a little. 
But you round on him again, “why would you send me away?”
He doesn’t acknowledge you, instead he goes rifling in a drawer, digging around a little. 
His suite is larger than others. The living room is open and attached is the kitchen. It’s all light wood, with tall windows that overlook the courtyard. You know, despite never being inside, that his bedroom is down the hall and to the left. The bathroom is across from it. You’ve sat many times on the floor of his living room with him, going over assignments, plans that he has, and what he’d like you to do. 
When he finds what he’s looking for, he makes a soft noise, before turning to you with a small, gold key. 
“I don’t want a key!” You snap. 
“It’s a spare, take it just in case.” He replies and when you don’t move to grab it from him, he takes your hand in his much larger one, and opens your palm to him. 
He places the key in your hand. 
And then his eyes catch yours, “you were worried.” 
“No-!” you get out, “I don’t like being—I’m supposed to protect you.” 
Suguru smiles, hand still swallowing yours, “isn’t that sweet?” he remarks, “an Omega attempting to protect an Alpha.”
Immediately, you jerk away from him.
The key is still in your shaking fist. 
“Don’t start,” you snarl, low and vicious and hurt, “I’ve always been the one at your side.” 
“Yes,” he agrees, hand falling back down to his side listlessly. “I already told you that.” 
You’ve always been at my side, he’d said, when he was trying to convince you to–
“That’s not what I meant!” Your voice rises without your consent and you feel an embarrassed, angry flush through your face for being so worked up. The room is thick with your worry and anger and frustration, all of your pent up energy like a knot in your chest, in your voice. It’s in your heart and the way you look at him. 
“It doesn’t matter what you meant,” Suguru says easily, “it’s still the truth.” 
When you slam the door this time, you hear something fall from the wall. 
But the key is still in your trembling hand, digging indents into your palm, and your heart is still a beast in your chest.
And behind the closed door, Suguru Getou smiles fondly, and retrieves the fallen, shattered frame from the floor. 
***
For a while, you avoid Suguru. 
You stuff the key he gave you in your nightstand drawer, far in the back, in an attempt to keep it out of sight and out of your mind. 
And at first, you think he is respecting your boundaries; you receive assignments through others from him. You see him only in passing and he never speaks directly to you. He hardly acknowledges you. 
But after a week and a half, it begins to feel like punishment. 
And the key is starting to burn and itch in your mind. You think about it at night, tossing over in your bed; you think about unlocking his door at this hour. What would you find? Would he be asleep? Awake? Alone? Fully dressed? 
You think of him half bare and lounging, hair slipping over his shoulders, and the scent of sandalwood and fig. Tonka or something woodsy, maybe. You know it well and it lingers long after he leaves you. 
You suddenly miss it, crave it. 
Him. 
You twist beneath your sheets. 
Why did he have to–
You make a soft noise of frustration, turning over again. 
You’re restless. 
Something beneath your skin begins to itch and squirm. 
Previously, Suguru had hardly mentioned your status as an Omega. He rarely acknowledged it; you were too brilliant of a sorcerer for him to care, you thought. You were too powerful. The only instance he brought it up was to scent you, a form of caution in a particular instance, for a particular mission. The memory still simmers in your mind, the way he’d rubbed the gland on your wrist with a careful thumb. He’d given you clothes of his to wear. He’d had you sit in his quarters for long hours, until it seemed as if you were his, in some way. 
But now that he’s actually brought it up, offered you his bite, to be his, it paints him in an entirely different light. 
Had he always…wanted you? 
Was he always planning this? 
The naive, desperate parts of you want to believe this is a recent thought of his. Previous to this, he only ever saw you as another sorcerer, a powerful one that aided him. You had always been one of the closer ones to him, at his heel, his beck and call. 
You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought of Suguru this way; as an Alpha. An unmated one, who kept your company. 
And he does, no matter how badly it burns to admit it, protect you.
You know he wards off Alphas. 
You know he perhaps does more than even that. 
But you don’t want—
You don’t want to be mated. 
You don’t want to suddenly be coddled by him, held back, don’t want to be the little thing that keeps his bed warm.
Your face heats with the thought. 
Images flash through your mind, flickering, melting together like film that bleeds and runs, of him overtop you. Shrouding you. His hair on your shoulders and back. You think of his mouth on your throat, teeth in your neck. 
You rub at your eyes suddenly as if to clear them.
You know he leaves on a mission for a week in two days. 
You assume, at some point, he’ll speak to you. And break this strange silence. 
You’ll both return to normal then.
And then perhaps you won’t lose any more sleep over him.
***
Suguru never says goodbye to you. 
It shouldn’t bother you as much as it does—you just figured he’d finally drop this silly little silence game.
You suppose he must’ve thought the same of you.
Besides, what were you expecting from him? An apology? It’s foolish to even entertain. You knew you weren’t going to apologize either. The least you’ll do, when he returns, is  act as if all is normal again. Perhaps it’s better that way, not to address what he’s put in his head recently. 
The more you speak of it, or think of it, the worse it unravels in your mind. 
On the second day that he is gone, you realize you miss his scent. 
You realize it has become such a staple in your everyday life that its sudden disappearance  is almost alarming. It makes you more irritable, more vicious. You snap at the others faster, bite out insults and brutalities. 
You—
Well, you miss it. 
Him, maybe. 
The admittance is a hard one to swallow around. It burns going down. 
On the third day, you’re genuinely craving his scent in a way that makes your teeth ache. You had no idea you could even miss a scent like this, need it so bad that your body would betray you with a physical pain in your chest. Somewhere in your mouth, under your tongue. 
You try to ignore it. 
You go on with your life. 
But by the fifth day, you are agitated and aggressive. Everyone knows something is wrong with you. You know something is wrong with you. You can feel it beneath your skin, crawling, squirming. It makes you want to tear out your hair, rip at your nails, or sink your teeth into something. You’re restless.
You can’t sleep. 
You can hardly eat or think. 
And as you lay awake in your bed, kicking at sheets, sweating and twisting, you know what it is you need. 
You’ve known the whole week. 
You throw back the covers and wrench open your bedside drawer. 
The key rattles, hot, like it knows it’s finally about to be used. It’s musical sound a siren song, it’s been burning away in there the whole week. 
You swipe it and turn sharply from your bedroom. From your own apartment. 
It’s the middle of the night; not a soul sees you in the compound. 
Like a person possessed, you walk. Your back is straight. Your steps are quick. Your mind is set, on fire.
Suguru’s door has haunted you the whole week.
The key in your hand digs into the flesh, carving it’s divots there like your hand might be the lock itself. 
You try not to think about it–you unlock the door. You throw it open. 
You shut it behind you, slide the lock back into place. 
Darkness greets you.
You wander in like you know the place (you do, you do–)
You wander in like it’s yours to wander in. 
Instantly, something loosens inside of you. 
You exhale hard. 
Inhale sharp. 
The smell of him, fainter because he’s been gone, assaults your senses, sweeps over them. You take in a lungful like gasping for air, you smell faint traces of fig and sandalwood. Notes of tonka that you long for, that urge you to move deeper into his space. 
In the dark, you make your way down the hall, towards his bedroom.
You haunt the arch for a moment.
Guilt or regret or embarrassment almost seize you. They make you pause. 
Some sane part of you is clawing at your insides, wailing to turn around and leave. Leave now. 
But he gave you a key.
He gave you a key, you think in circles, again and again. He gave me a key. 
You cross the threshold.
You sink down into his bed and his scent is strongest here, even still, after several days it’s his. 
You turn over the covers to get beneath them, cool sheets against your legs, sliding and smooth. You turn your face into his pillow and inhale. 
A soft little groan works it’s way out of you.
Instantly, your muscles slacken. 
Everything leeches from you; your anger and irritation and restlessness. 
It soothes you so deeply and so swiftly it makes your head spin. 
You curl beneath his blankets and take deep pulls of breath, squirming a moment if only to bring his scent tighter around you. You envelope yourself in it.You shroud yourself in it. 
And finally, after five days of restless nights, you fall asleep almost instantly. 
Not a single dream. Not one moment where you wake or stir. 
You sleep deeply. 
In the morning, the sun warms you through the broad windows like a content cat. 
You stretch lazily like one, too.
Suguru will be home tomorrow. 
You know you need to leave his bed, hope that your scent dissipates by the time he returns. 
You didn’t do anything wrong, you know—he gave you a key. 
He gave you a key. 
But rather, you know he would never let you live it down. He would use it instantly, as ammunition for his argument, the debate that the two of you keep circling.
You don’t quite leave as quickly as you should still, though: 
You linger.
You’re comfortable.
Calmed for the first time all week.
And when you do slip out, it’s silently, locking the door behind you.
Like maybe you won’t ever let yourself back in there, trying to shut it like it was a one time indulgence and gone now from your mind and body. 
But his scent clings to you. 
And little do you know, your scent clings to his sheets—and to Suguru, it’s sweet as can be and unmistakable—irreplaceable.
He collapses in his own bed when he returns and knows you’ve been all over it. He can smell the crush of dark berries, jasmine, the soothing note of vanilla that clings to you, that he’s come to adore. 
He grins to himself and knows then, he’s got you right where he wants you.
***
For a moment, you think Suguru is going to make you be the bigger person and apologize upon his return. 
Instead, he finds you. 
And he doesn’t say he’s sorry for his recent behavior, but he does say;
“I’d prefer if you didn’t avoid me in the future.”
It feels like sorry enough. 
And for some time, things return to a state of normal.
A version of it.
It isn’t quite like it was before—in fact, you seem to spend more time around him than previously. He calls on you more. He brings you into his space more frequently, often urging you to eat with him, beside him, at his table.
This is ideal for you. Close but not too close.
Although, he begins to ask, don’t you have your key? Can’t you let yourself in? 
You say you haven’t used it.
He hums like he knows differently, but doesn’t press you.
Until finally he asks you to retrieve a notebook in his study and bring it to him.
Fetch, he says.
“It’s locked, isn’t it?”
“You have your key.” He answers simply, not looking up from the book he is reading. 
For a moment, you almost protest, but something stops you. Maybe the twitch in his brow.
It’s a useless argument to pick, anyways.
You do have a key.
It would be fastest, easiest, to just use it.
So you do. 
And you hand him the notebook he asked for, fingers brushing against his as he takes it from you with gentle hands.
“Thank you,” he adds, voice so smooth and low, almost tempting.
You swallow a little.
Then you quickly avert your gaze. 
“Whatever,” you grouse, but he smiles fondly, amused.
And it opens another door, more than just the one to his suite.
***
Tentatively, you begin to come and go.
The first (second)  time you use your key to enter without his order, he is careful not to react to you any differently than how he usually does. 
His eyes brighten a little, though, like a leopard that’s caught something interesting in its sights and is waiting to see what it’ll do. 
Still, you grow more comfortable entering his space on your own. 
You claim portions of it; a corner of the couch. A particular cushion around his low table. All of the sunny patches in his suite become yours, scented with you, indented with you. More than that, some horrible, hidden part of you adores that your scent is all over his space. 
It’s comforting to find it beside his scent. 
It soothes a part of you that you don’t wish to admit to. 
His hands grow bolder. 
Now they’re always hovering at the small of your back, the nape of your neck. He tucks strands of your hair away from your face and though you jerk away from him, it’s often half-hearted. You snip at him and he only smiles.
Pleased. Smug. Knowing. 
His hands guide you as you walk beside him.
You grow accustomed to his touch in some way—he makes sure of it.
Then, as if to prove something—
Another cult member begins to cause trouble with you; he is another Omega. He begins with snide comments and remarks that test your patience. He doesn’t stop until you are growling and bristled and ready for a fight. 
And all it takes to stop you is Suguru’s large hand coming down on the nape of your neck. 
His thumb rests atop one scent gland at your throat, fingertips pressing delicately into the one on the other side. Hand wrapped around the back of your neck.
“Easy,” he murmurs and just like that, you can feel some of your aggression slip from you, deflate like a balloon.
It’s involuntary, the energy and anger unspooling from your body in an instant. In the back of your mind, you’re alarmed; how easily it was for him to effect you. It’s terrifying.
You swat his hand away, lurching from him, another little growl in your throat.
But you don’t fight him or the look in his eyes, the way he tilts his chin up in the barest hint of dominance. 
You storm off.
Instances as such continue to happen, though, where he’s able to sooth or quell your temperament with a touch. A word. A look. 
It comes to a head while you’re eating dinner with him. 
“You’re so wound up,” Suguru comments lightly, “your scent is so sharp with it. What’s bothering you?” 
Reflexively, you snap, “you are.” 
And it’s meant to be some sort of insult but Suguru’s lips twist into this hitched little smile. “It’s my fault you’re wound up?” He asks lightly. 
“Don’t twist my words.” You respond, fixing him with a glare, “you bother me.” 
He’s still deeply amused by this, you can tell by the twinkle in his eyes. The smug way he holds himself. 
“Would you like me to help you?” He asks. 
“No,” you say reflexively. 
A beat of silence before he says, “come here. I’ll help you.” 
There’s a command in his voice, laced there, and doing something strange to your head. 
You hesitate.
He pounces, “just a massage.” He soothes, “I can tell your shoulders are knotted up and tense. I can see it.”
His voice has dropped into that soothing lull.
Warily, “away from my glands?” 
He smiles, “of course.” And then, “come here.”
Your body moves easily now and he murmurs, “sit in front of me. Back to me—there, that’s it.” 
It feels more vulnerable than it should to show your back to him, to sit in front of him like a child to their mother. You try to keep your posture straight and careful. 
But then he sets large, warm hands to your shoulders. His fingers dig into the meat of them gently, pressing into your muscles which spasm and twitch in pain. You yelp, jerking away. 
Suguru tsks, “see how tense you are? You’re in pain.” He scolds softly and you feel heat smart across your face, “sit still for me. I’ll be gentler.”
True to his word, he eases up, fingers careful as they run into your tense muscles.
He finds bundles of twisted up tension in your back and shoulders, pressing into them until a noise springs from you—a groan, a whimper, a little growl. He works the sounds out of you. You swear he’s doing it deliberately and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was all just to humiliate you a little. 
But you finally loosen and slacken for him. 
When you finally sink into his hands, he murmurs, “I don’t know why you fight this so badly.”
You let go of a heavy sigh, “you do know why. Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.” 
“Because you’re stubborn?” Suguru asks lightly and you snort, despite yourself, “because you don’t know what’s good for you?”
“You’re no good for me.” You respond.
Suguru’s turn to sigh and if he digs his fingers in to make you yip in pain, he’d never say it was purposeful. 
“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”
Reflexively, you jerk away from his touch, you turn to look at him over your shoulder with a sneer. 
“I’m not a pet.” 
Suguru does not heed your warning and instead gently pulls you back towards him by your waist. 
“No?” He asks lightly, fingers resuming their steady massage. You go completely still like prey, unsure, wary. Angry. Humiliated. “It’s not a bad thing to be a pet. You’re thinking about it all wrong.” 
His fingers ease up towards your neck and you stiffen again. 
“Suguru,” you say in warning as he nears your scent glands. Perhaps to what he’s said.
“You’re my pet now,” he continues, “though you don’t like to admit it. It’s not so bad, is it?” 
Stubbornly, you don’t answer him.
But after a moment, you say, “if I’m already yours, why do you need this last bit of me? If you already see me as your pet, why do you want me so terribly, in this way—“
Suguru suddenly pulls you back deeper, into his lap, against his chest. 
You squirm, but he holds you tight, hooks his chin over your shoulder.
Alarm bells ring frantically in your head now that he’s so close to the glands in your throat. 
“Don’t play dumb,” Suguru muses, half-mocking, “it doesn’t suit you.” 
“Let me go,” you snarl low and hot.
“What are you scared of?” Suguru responds, “that I’d trap you? If you’d take my Bite, I’d let you roam further than I do now. You’d be safe.” 
“Liar,” you hiss, “I’m not dumb.” 
“I’m not trying to stifle you, I’m trying to set you free.” Suguru almost purrs and his voice is warm and low and creeping up over your spine and trying to find its way inside you. 
You begin to squirm this time, thrashing in his hold until you manage to wriggle free, falling forward onto your hands and knees. 
Instinctively, you turn to keep your back protected, scrambling away from him. You bare your teeth at him. 
“I don’t believe you.” 
He watches this show of aggression with amusement, tilting his head slightly. And then he sighs, “I don’t think anything I say will convince you at this point.” 
You narrow your eyes at the tone. Your hackles rise. 
In an instant, he has grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you back to him. 
Underneath him.
You shove hard at him, twisting and fighting as he settles himself over you. 
You realize how solid he is, how strong, and large. He doesn’t budge. He doesn’t even flinch. 
“Suguru,” you hiss at him, pushing as hard as you can on his chest.
“See how easy it was for me to subdue you?” He says then, voice smooth and low. “If I wanted to take you, I simply would’ve already. You’re no challenge to me; if I wanted to trap you, I would’ve.”
“Get off me!” 
You thrash hard beneath him and in an instant, he has your hands uselessly pinned above your head, stretching you out beneath him.
His nose dips, near the scent gland at your throat. You squirm.
He squeezes your wrists, “stop squirming.” He murmurs low, “or my instinct will be to bite.”
Your stomach does a horrible flip, a flutter of—fear, excitement. 
“Just—get off—leave me alone!” You get out, voice high and tight. You try not to arch away from the way he lets his face fall to the crook of your neck. 
“Hush,” Suguru hisses, nudging his nose beneath your ear.
He’s scenting you. 
He’s done this before and despite everything in you, you finally go slack. You force yourself not to tilt your head or offer up more, rather let him urge you into the way that he prefers. 
He nudges his cheek and nose against your jaw. He lets out a relieved breath, fitting more of his body to you and you feel the push of chest into yours, his hips.
You squirm a little and a growl erupts from his throat.
You fight back the sound that almost works its way out of you now, swallow around it.
When he’s finished, he asks, “would you like to scent me?” And instinctively, you want to say yes, but you temper yourself. Then he adds, “I’m sending you away on a mission alone. I’ll be scenting you until the day you leave now.” 
You catch his eyes, glinting.
“So, I thought it only fair if you’d like to scent me, too.” 
You don’t know why, but something squirms inside of you, something a little hurt. 
“You’re sending me away?”
Suguru hums softly, “I need you to take care of something for me. I only trust you to do it.” 
You flex your hands a little in his hold, but he doesn’t budge. 
He nudges at your jaw again, gentle, and murmurs, “this would be easier if you’d take my mark.” 
You turn your head then to shield your throat, and face him. His nose nearly brushes yours and you look up at him through your lashes. You bite your tongue from any further complaints, dipping down to the crux of his throat now. 
Easily, perhaps eagerly, he bares his throat for you.
Satisfaction erupts beneath your skin as his scent washes over you, dark fig and oud, sandalwood and musk. Carefully, your nose runs along the column of his throat. 
“I’m not even—“ you huff, retry, “I haven’t had a Heat in—it wouldn’t take, anyways.” 
“Ah,” Suguru says and you wish you hadn’t told him at all. Realization dawns over his features the way a cat might realize it’s caught its mouse beneath its paws. “Is this what you’re so scared of?” 
“No—I prefer it this way. It’s another reason that you can’t. It wouldn’t work.” You say stubbornly and perhaps in your irritation, you burrow further down into the crook of his neck, tuck your cheek to his skin to nudge. 
“I could give you a temporary one,” he murmurs, “I’d let you do the same in return, of course.” 
You go quiet, brushing your lips against his skin, hesitating. 
“I don’t need it.” You finally decide, even as you let the blunt side of a tooth nick gently against his neck. “I can protect myself.” You pull away to look at him again, “am I not one of your strongest?” 
“You are my strongest.” He agrees, he praises. “But am I not also strong?” He asks, “and yet you still insist on protecting me.” 
You open your mouth to protest, but he takes your chin in hand suddenly, words dying before they can escape. 
“You are my strongest.” He says, “I would like the world to be aware of it.” 
“I told you, I don’t want to be yours–” 
“Then stop protecting me. Flee. Run away and never return.” Suddenly, his touch, his body, all of him is gone. He rolls off of you and onto his back beside you. Cold air sweeps in. You can feel his touch like burning imprints on your skin. 
You turn your head to the side to look at him. 
“You would hunt me down if I ran.” 
A flicker of a smile ghosts his face. 
“And if I ran from you?” He asks, “if I discarded you?” 
Something twists so viciously and sharply in your chest that your eyes sting with it. You lock your jaw tight. You stare up at the ceiling. 
“You refuse to speak but your scent is spiced with distress, sour with despair.” He turns to look at you, “not so easy to hear, is it?” 
“I can’t stand you or your games.” You get out. 
“There are no games.” He says evenly, “only the one you’re playing with yourself.” 
You scoff, “which is?” 
He sits up slightly, over you, looking down at you, the inky silk of his dark hair sliding over one shoulder. 
“Seeing how long you can outrun what you want.” 
You exhale roughly, in exasperation, and then you ask dryly, “and what do I want, Suguru?” 
“To be taken care of.” 
“I don’t need–”
He cuts off your growl before it can start, taking your chin in hand to turn your head towards him once more. “You never have, but it doesn’t mean you can’t want it.” 
“I don’t want it either.” You snap. “You have some grand delusion of me in your mind that I am some weak, submissive creature in need of your care.” 
“I’ve said none of that, have I?” He hums. “Now you’re twisting my words, being purposefully churlish–in hopes of, what? To scare me off?” 
His palm opens up against your jaw, your cheek. His thumb touches your bottom lip. 
“You snap and you snarl and posture as some ferocious, independent creature to scare everyone off. I don’t blame you–I am certain you protected yourself many times this way from lesser people.” His voice is soft, almost a lull, you allow his palm to open against your lips, to turn your face into the cup of his hands. “You don’t believe anyone can handle you and you hope if you bite hard enough, tear into them, they’ll run off. And then you’ll feel vindicated; you were right, you are too much to handle. You were right, you are a monster. You’re unworthy of care or companionship or protection.” 
His hand moves upward, baring his wrist to your mouth now, “go on,” he encourages, “bite me. As hard as you like. Scream and cry and tear into me. Loathe me and scorn me.” He leans closer, over you, as he hushes like a mother to their child, “I’ll still be here, with the rings of your teeth marks littered in my skin. I’ll be the only one, bruised and bloody, still taking care of you–no matter how badly you fight me.” 
Out of anger or frustration or something else entirely, tears prick your eyes. As if to hide them, you open your mouth against his wrist, gentle first–warm and soft lips and tongue. He looks enraptured. He looks starving. 
You sink your teeth into his skin viciously. 
He hisses in pain, sharp, but doesn’t pull away. “There,” he coos, leaning over you, sinking into the pain, “is that what you wanted?” 
Blood bursts into your mouth in a way that is almost startling, sharp and metallic. It should be gross and horrible and–you whine a little, somewhere in the back of your throat and bear down harder. 
If that’s what he promises, you’ll make him prove it. 
If he wants to be the one beside you, you’ll make him pay. 
He leans down to kiss at your cheeks, gentle, humming. You realize there are tears. Your jaw aches. 
But you don’t let go and he doesn’t even flinch. 
“Does that feel better? To get your teeth into someone who isn’t scared of you?” He murmurs, nudging at your tense jaw, kissing there. “Shall I do the same to you?” 
You release his wrist and shove him off, hard enough that he gives and he goes. 
You stand up and storm out of his chambers, slamming the door on its hinges as hard as you can. You hope it knocks over every painting on his walls. You hope the entire compound somehow hears it. You hope it breaks something in the same way that something has been broken open inside of you.
You wipe his blood from your mouth with the back of your hand.
Suguru doesn’t even bandage the wound. And he wears his sleeves high, so that all the world might see it.
51 notes · View notes
nadvs · 12 hours
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we need a second part of imperfect strangers where he actually comes and visits her for the weekends🤭 (random but i can so see them at chipotle being all cutesy)
aw tysm 💘 wrote a blurb and rly leaned into the goofy fluff but it’s NEEDED with zach imo!!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
continuation of this fic
Zach acts like a four-hour drive to your college is nothing.
You know he’s tired every time he pulls up in front of your dorm. You can see it in the bags under his eyes and the yawns he tries to hide from you.
But matter how many times you tell him he doesn’t have to come visit you every weekend, he won’t hear it. He’s determined to show you how badly he wants to see you, refusing to take the risk of hurting you again.
When you mention to Zach that you’re craving Chipotle the night before his visit, he finds the closest one to your campus while still on the phone with you.
The second you get into his car the next day, he kisses you before you can even get a chance to put on your seatbelt.
“Missed you, too,” you laugh when he pulls back.
After he buys lunch, you sit in a booth by a window in the restaurant, feet bumping beneath the table. He always wants to find a way to touch you, no matter how minor.
“This is a masterpiece,” he says, holding out his bowl, ridiculously competitive as usual. “I don’t know what that is.”
You gasp as he points at your meal.
“What makes yours so perfect?” you ask. He loves how you always play along with him, that you’re as much of a goofball as he is.
“Look,” Zach says, his delivery deadpan but his motive silly like usual, “I got the protein - the steak, of course…”
“Of course,” you echo amusedly.
“And brown rice, great for lowering cholesterol,” he says.
“You take one nutrition course and suddenly you’re a genius,” you sigh, recalling how he told you about one of his elective classes on the phone a few nights ago.
“Babe, I’m being serious here,” Zach says, the smile curling on his lips telling you he’s not being serious at all.
“Continue.” You take a bite of your lunch.
“Corn, a vegetable,” he says, raising his eyebrows, “salsa, extra cheese-”
“I think you’re cheesy enough,” you interrupt, putting a palm up. Zach laughs and nudges your knee with his.
“You love it,” he says. You smile, confirming it.
“Is this who you are now that you’re a local celebrity?” you tease. “All ego?”
A few days ago, a photo of him playing soccer in a home game was posted on his college’s Instagram account, celebrating the team’s most recent win.
As you expected, the top comment was by a girl who wrote what’s his @ i’m asking for a friend (i’m the friend).
“Afraid so,” he responds.
“I noticed you changed your profile picture on Instagram,” you say. It used to be his athletic headshot, but now his profile boasts an image of the two of you smiling outside of a café.
“Yeah,” he says plainly.
“Why?”
“What do you mean? Am I not cute in it?” he jokes.
“Zach,” you laugh. “Was it because girls were messaging you?”
His cheeks flush pink. He pulls out his phone and sets it in front of you.
“Yeah. I changed my picture so they know I have a girlfriend,” he says, gaze fluttering away. You know him so well. “And I didn’t message any of them back. You can check.”
“You’re so sweet,” you giggle. “I trust you, but I kind of want to look just out of curiosity to see what they’re saying.”
Sure enough, he has a few messages from pretty girls sitting in his inbox, some simple hi’s, others much more flirty.
“Can’t blame them,” you reply, sliding his phone back to his side of the table. “You’re hot.”
“Are you only in this for my looks?”
“I thought you knew that,” you say. “This is awkward now.”
Zach grins, bumping your knee again before sliding out of his side of the booth and settling beside you. You can smell his cologne, clean and gentle.
“Yeah, we’re the kind of couple that sits on the same side of the table, so what?” he mumbles, planting a kiss on your temple. You smirk, kneeling against his shoulder before sitting straight again.
“I’m sorry if that made you jealous, babe,” Zach says after a beat. At times, it’s hard to believe how sensitive he is. “I can ask them to take the photo down.”
“Oh,” you say with a laugh. He has a bit of a jealous streak stemming from insecurities, but you never felt it yourself, knowing how loyal he is. “I have a cute boyfriend. I can accept that it comes with a little competition sometimes.”
“There’s no competition,” he says resolutely, blue eyes hard on you. You squeeze his bicep and smile at him and he dips to kiss your fingers, right above the promise ring he gave you.
“You know that goes both ways, right?” you tell him softly. “You’ve ruined all other men for me, MacLaren.”
Your words send butterflies swirling in his stomach.
“Good thing we’ll be together forever then,” Zach says, a glint in his eyes.
“Good thing,” you agree.
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Clone wars headcanons that took me forever to edit
I feel like my last couple of headcanons have been mushy so I’ve decided to write some shit Ahsoka and Anakin do that piss each other off 
Ahsoka bites the skin around her nails all the time and most of the time she won't stop till they’re bleeding 
Anakin’s tried literally everything in the book to get her to stop 
He tried putting spices on her hands forgetting that she likes spicy food, he’s tried painting her nails (like that’ll do anything) but she keeps picking the paint off, now he just uses the force to remove them from her mouth 
That’s gotten a few growls from her but at least it makes her aware she’s doing it but it doesn’t stop her from bitting them a couple of seconds later
Honestly he’s given up and just sits in silence while she complains about the pain
Anakin paces whenever he’s even slightly nervous and she can tell how nervous he is depending on how fast he moves 
If he’s just kinda anxious he moves pretty slow but if he’s like one shirt caught on a door handle away from a panic attack he’s teleporting 
When Padme told him he was gonna be a dad he was ecstatic for about 24 hours but after that some invisible timer went off in his head he booked it to Ahsoka’s house (she lives down the street cause of course she does)
Walked into her room and woke her poor sleepy butt up with all his pacing 
Girl swears to this day he broke the damn sound barrier with how fast he was moving 
She just wordlessly sat up and patted her bed cause she knew she wasn’t gonna get any sleep until he did 
She sat by him and listened as he rattled off all his worries and only really stepped in when the darker thoughts surfaced when it was all said and done she turned to him and said “Now let me kriffing sleep” 
Should he have probably left the room yeah but he got a total of 30 minutes of “sleep” that night so it’s not surprising that he knocked the fuck out of
Padme was a little bit alarmed to wake up without Anakin but was quickly soothed when she read Ahsoka’s message “Your nerf herders with me” 
She knew the pregnancy would dredge up some unhappy feelings and she also knew Anakin can’t think clearly if he doesn’t have Ahsoka to sort through the bullshit in his head 
She just got ready for brunch with her two favorite people and smiled cause she knew Obi-Wan and Rex would join them for dinner with or without an invitation 
When Anakin and Ahsoka were living together they would kick each other out of their own bathrooms 
Why? Well Ahsoka said Anakin’s had better lighting and water pressure and Anakin would do it to spite Ahsoka because he knew it would piss her off  
Slowly but surely their stuff gets moved into each other's bathrooms and it’s a weird amalgamation of crap 
Also when they were living together Anakin would ask Ahsoka if she was hungry before cooking and she’d often say no because she didn’t want to impose but his cooking always looked and smelled good 
So half the time girl would just end up eating some of his food when she thought he wasn’t looking 
At first he was like “Snips you said you weren’t hungry” to which she would respond “Yeah I wasn’t hungry then but I am now” after that he starts making more food on instinct cause damn that girl can eat 
Anakin gets back at her pretty easily tho by taking the first bite of her food whenever they go out to eat his excuse is that he’s “making sure it’s not poisoned” he never does this to Padme cause he respects her too damn much 
And he can’t use that trick on Obi-Wan and Rex cause the former taught him the trick and the latter has a bullshit detecter built-in 
Both Anakin and Ahsoka pull that trick on the twins tho (which gets them a quick scolding from Padme) 
Speaking of the twins it’s not surprising that as they grow up they realize that their auntie isn’t human so of course like any normal child they have questions and Anakin being the little shit that he is spots an opportunity for some laughs 
So he turns to the twins all serious-like and goes “Well my loves we actually found your auntie in a dumpster we have no idea where she came from” the twins are distraught and go to the nearest adult who just so happens to be their uncle Rex 
And Rex also being a little shit backs up Anakin’s story with so much sincerity that even Anakin believed it a little bit 
The twins being the angels they are apologize to their auntie for her terrible origin story with tears in their eyes and her reaction more than made up for the swift ass-kicking the boys got  
When Anakin was taller than Ahsoka he made her life hell by making fun of her every time something was even slightly out of her reach
He would make a big deal about grabbing it for her while commenting about how the temple’s architecture wasn’t made with the “young ones” in mind 
Obi-Wan has turned multiple blind eyes when Ahsoka socked the shit out of his arms when he tells one too many jokes some days
When she finally grows taller than him she makes the biggest deal about it and no one can blame her 
While Anakin is the pilot Ahsoka is easily the navigator she often jokes that Anakin wouldn’t find his way out of bed without help 
Which is funny cause he often acts like a herding dog with her putting his hand on her back or holding her arm to guide her 
But he’s wrong 9/10 times so it’s not uncommon to see Anakin guiding her in one direction and then see him get dragged in the opposite direction a couple of minutes later  
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meidui · 2 days
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pre-serum steve fic recs
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this rec list is a fill for the "pre-serum steve" square on my @steverogersbingo - it got long so the fics are below the cut ♡
the categories: *drumroll please...*
what steve's packing
modern non-powered AUs
historical AUs
steve isn't cap but tony is iron man
tony time-traveling to the forties and sexing up steve
medkink
omegaverse
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❤️ what steve's packing:
Good Things, Small Packages by @ashes0909
Steve had a small cock and Tony was absolutely mad for it.
Packing Heat by @kandisheek
Tony always notices Steve Rogers, even when he's all but disappearing into the wallpaper at a party. It's time he does something about that.
Such a Softer Sin by @gotthesilver
Tony gets to his feet and steps between Steve’s legs. Running a hand up Steve’s neck, along his sharp jawline, Tony leans down and kisses him deeply, pouring all his feelings into the kiss until he can feel Steve relaxing. “I am so gone on you,” Tony says when he breaks away. “Whatever people have said to you before, whatever idiots made you feel this way, they’re not me. And I’m a goddamn genius, Steve, so trust me when I say, you’re gorgeous.”
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❤️ modern non-powered AUs:
Your Reputation Precedes You by @vanilla-shoes
Tony agrees to watch the desk for the salon next door to his garage as a favor -- but when he meets the salon owner's fiery best friend Steve, maybe the favor is for Tony after all...
and you look so divine by @elcorhamletlive
Tony blinks a few times, seeming startled. “That’s – I mean, don’t me wrong, that’s great to hear. But, uh – Steve? That.... Kind of sounds like you think I’m dating you despite your looks.”
Steve just stares.
Tony’s eyes are wider than ever when he opens his mouth to talk: “Holy shit."
In Hindsight by @elcorhamletlive
Tony Stark knows very well how he screwed things up with Steve Rogers. He remembers it. Perfectly.
...Doesn't he?
sweet like honey by @elcorhamletlive
Steve wakes up in his boyfriend's Malibu mansion. However, Tony is nowhere to be found.
A fair match by @elcorhamletlive
Of course, Steve thinks. Of all the people in the world to get in trouble with, Steve had to do it with Tony Stark’s friend.
-
Steve gets himself in trouble - nothing new. He ends up arm wrestling with the most famous guy on campus, Tony Stark. That's definitely new, and it doesn't go exactly as he expects it.
i'll take care of you by @elcorhamletlive
“Hi.”
Steve blinks. The sound of loud thunder roars outside, but he doesn’t jolt, too focused on the image in front of him to be startled by the noise. 
He has no idea what to say, and he isn’t sure if the shock is because of Tony’s absolutely sodden state – his hair glued to his forehead, his clothes dripping with water, forming a small puddle in front of Steve’s door – or because he wasn’t expecting to see Tony for at least three more days.
“Hi?” he says, a little tentative, before his brain catches up to reality. In his defense, he was getting ready to sleep when Tony knocked. He looks at what Tony is holding – a wet mess that seems to have been a flower bouquet at some point. “What are you doing here?”
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❤️ historical AUs:
A Pirate's Life For Me by @bladeofthenebula27
When Steve joined the Avenger as the Cabin Boy, he knew being a pirate would be tough. He just never expected his duties would include warming the Captain's bed.
might be something by @stardating
Mingling with the upper class was not something one just did. Good thing Steve had no intention of just ‘mingling’. Not if he had anything to say about it.
a smudge of charcoal by @stardating
It was alright. It wasn’t like he didn’t need the stability. It wasn’t like he didn’t pour his heart and soul and last pennies into those paintings. Then Steve ran into someone and it was like the day wanted to get worse.
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❤️ steve isn't cap but tony is iron man (from the series Art is Long and Life is Short):
Throw a Little Hot Rod Red in There by @festiveferret @sirsapling
Tony Stark was pretty sure that the absolute worst time to get asked out by an incredibly talented, good-looking artist, who likes to paint - and defend - Iron Man, is when he's dying of palladium poisoning.
Patience by @festiveferret @sirsapling
Try as he might, Steve just couldn't seem to paint the arc reactor quite right. And it was driving him crazy.
Some Form of Electricity by @festiveferret @sirsapling
Steve doesn’t know what he’d do without Tony, and thank god he has him, because after getting the phone call that Bucky’s alive, everything is a blur. But Tony gets him there, all the way to Germany. It isn’t until he’s watching his friend lie motionless in a hospital bed that it really hits him.
Bucky is coming home, and he’s coming home broken.
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❤️ tony time-traveling to the forties and sexing up steve:
some days, you're the only thing i know by starkaspbrak
“He was right.” Tony whispers as he stares at Steve with what he could describe as affectionate.
“Who was?”
“My fiancé.”
“About what?”
There's a sparkle in his eyes as he responds, a soft smile on his lips, “That you’d still love me no matter what.”
Transient by @royal-chandler
There’s a 1A classification sitting on Steve’s bureau in his bedroom and he’s been so sick in his life, sick of many things; he’d like to no longer be sick of not having sex.
Like Whiskey on Cold Mornings by greyduckgreygoose
Tony/skinny!Steve porn
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❤️ medkink:
ART for - Fever, Breathe Your Love on Me commissioned by Right_in_the_feels
I commissioned the wonderful Buukkin to create art for blue_jack's wonderful medical kink story Fever, Breathe Your Love on Me
A Cure for Every Ailment by @kandisheek
Doctor Stark is testing his new experimental treatment for erectile dysfunction on a group of volunteers. It works very well on Steve Rogers. Just not for the reason Tony thinks.
Or: Tony doesn't realize that sounding is a kink, and Steve never knew he had it.
Throckmorton Sign by MusicalKestrel
Steve has been having some very worrisome symptoms, even for someone with as many medical problems as he has. When he visits the ED, he finally gets some answers and the help he didn't even know he was looking for.
Delusion by LenkaVittoriaElisse16
Steve is scheduled for his annual PE, and the physician in charge is his boyfriend: the handsome Dr. Anthony Stark.
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❤️ omegaverse:
Once or Twice by @festiveferret
It'd been flattering, at first, when Tony Stark - Iron Man, of all people - had shown Steve some attention, but it had become obvious pretty quickly that Tony was teasing him like all the other alphas at SHIELD did. Tony always pestered him every time he came to the SHIELD offices, harassing him for not having work done for ops that hadn't even been fully debriefed yet. He hung around Steve's desk and wanted to go over every tiny detail on every report which just meant that Steve's next reports were even later.
It was hard enough working his way up to Senior Strategy Analysis as an omega, and it was hard enough being around the unbonded alphas in the office who liked towering over his tiny frame, sneaking sniffs and smacking his ass as he walked through the breakroom. But Tony's relentless campaign of driving him crazy had made things even harder. Steve had even considered being transferred off the Avengers Initiative team, but he'd worked so hard to get there and he wouldn't let some knot-head bug him into quitting. 
Two-Point Perspective by @festiveferret
Dear omega,
Congratulations! You've been selected. Alpha #95847872 has been assigned as your pre-bondee. A group bonding ceremony will take place on the 14th, unless other arrangements have been made by your alpha or their family. A valid bonding license must be submitted to Omega Services within 45 days of this letter or all services will be cancelled and any transferable benefits will not be applied to your alpha's package.
If there is some reason why you cannot be bonded on this date, please apply for an extension by calling 1-800-555-6827 within 7 days of receiving this letter.
Sincerely, National Omega Services
Stealing Your Heart by @bladeofthenebula27
Steve's had his eye on the Alpha he wants for a long time and tonight's the night he finally gets to go out and take him for his own.
Slut Era by @bladeofthenebula27
Tony never meant to become the campus bicycle but since that was apparently what was expected of him he figured it was easier just to lean into it.
He just never expected Steve Rogers would ever want to take a ride.
Peep Show by @bladeofthenebula27
“Alright there, Sugar?” A voice came from behind him and he whipped around to see an omega with a little box of tokens. “You know you got to put one in to start right?”
Steve felt his face heat. “Yes ma’am. I was just uhh—“
“First timer?” He nodded and she gave him an encouraging smile. “Well, don’t worry, there’s glass behind the curtain, so the omegas can’t bite.” Then she winked. “That costs extra.”
Steve’s face got even hotter. He certainly wasn’t doing that.
Steve knew he wasn't any omega's first choice, or hell, even third. But what starts as a visit to a seedy Peep Show in Manhattan ends up changing his life for good.
Marked You Mine by @avengersnewb
Omega!Steve and Alpha!Tony go undercover as a bonded couple for a mission. As it turns out faking a bond has some unexpected (mostly pleasant) side effects.
Clothes Make the Man by @fiftyshadesofstony
When Tony's status as the alpha in Steve's life is challenged, Steve sets out to show him how much he likes the idea of being Tony's omega. (PWP featuring Brock Rumlow being an asshole and some sexy shirts!)
In Tribute by @ms-meredith-milton
Tony Stark is an Alpha and Crown Prince of Manottan.
Steven--son of Roger, son of Grant--is a sickly omega and a nobody, even in his home of Brooklyne castle. He just wants to serve his country.
Things kind of go from there.
Small by My_Soul_and_Perfume
It had only taken him until the age of five to begin believing his father’s words, and he has repeated this mantra to himself for years in this very same spot. Yet, he had never grown desensitized to them. Words weren’t like the colors of sweaters. They wouldn’t fade away.
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vodika-vibes · 2 days
Note
I would love to see Wrecker with Topaz in the winter! Warm soup, cozy fireside snuggles, and just sheer cuteness! 💕
Silent Night
Summary: After Wrecker and the Batch’s Medic are stranded in the middle of a winter wonderland, Wrecker decides to make the best of it.
Pairing: TBB Wrecker x F!Reader
Word Count: 725
Warnings: None
Prompt: Topaz - Affectionate Love
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: This one fought me at every turn. I knew what I wanted it to say, but I'm not sure I managed to make it as soft and sweet as I wanted. Oh well, Happy reading!
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“You know, you’re pretty good at this, Doc.” Wrecker says with a grin as his gaze drifts from the fish he’s cleaning, to where the team medic is crouching next to a roaring fire. 
The light from the orange flames gives her an almost ethereal look, and Wrecker has a look away before he gets too distracted. “Well,” She admits as she clears a space of snow, as best as she can, and pulls the tent out of his kit, “Mom and dad divorced when I was a kid. And while mom had a nice house, dad wasn’t so lucky. So his weekends were usually spent camping.”
“So you could probably clean this fish then?” Wrecker asks, as he glances at her curiously.
She smiles sheepishly, “Well, dad did show me how, but you’re doing a wonderful job.”
He grins at her, and sets his knife to the side, “Well, as it happens, I’m done anyway. You have everything set up?”
“Yep. Just toss everything in the pot.”
Wrecker does as she instructs, and watches as she adds a few packets of seasoning, as well as some dehydrated vegetables, “I’m guessing your dad had you doing most of the cooking?”
“Yeah. Well, he wasn’t very good at cooking, really. So it was either learn to cook, or me and my siblings were going to end up with tapeworms or something.” Wrecker sits on the flat rock that she found…somewhere…and starts cleaning his knife.
“You know, you don’t talk about your family often.”
She glances at him, “Well, there’s not really much to say, is there?” She drops the contents of a second package into the pot, and then sits next to Wrecker, “My family is just average.”
“I’m not sure what an average family is,” Wrecker points out, “Though I bet Tech could tell me.”
She laughs, “Right, right. Well, there’s mom. She was a housewife up until she and dad got divorced, and then she got a job at the local elementary school getting me and my siblings free tuition. Dad was a firefighter who had a gambling issue. And then there’s the kids, my other brother, me, and our younger sister.”
“Well, you’re a doctor. What do your siblings do?”
“My brother is a chef at some big name restaurant on Coruscant. My sister is trying to become an actress, though she’s only really starred in commercials.” She shrugs, “Like I said, normal. Your family is so much more interesting.”
He laughs, “That’s one word for them.” Wrecker finishes cleaning his knife and stashes it away, “Are you comfortable?”
“Hm?”
“It’s kind of cold.” Wrecker points out.
“Oh, I’m alright. The fire is helping, and Hunter insisted I wear cold weather gear for this mission.” She hesitates, “Do…do you think-?”
“I’m sure they’re fine. Tech is there, after all.” Wrecker drapes an arm over her shoulder and tugs her against his side, “We’re the ones who have to camp outside in the snow.”
She smiles shyly, “I’m not worried.”
“No?”
“I have you here, don’t I?” She asked with a small, almost flirty, smile.
Wrecker’s heart flips nervously, “I…uh…”
She tilts her head, “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“Nah, Doc. I’m just…I’m not Hunter or Crosshair, I’m not used to flirting.” Wrecker admits.
“I’ll stop, if you want.”
“Well now, I didn’t say that.”
She laughs, her hand coming up to cover her mouth, “I like you, Wrecker. You’re fun and you make me laugh and you make me feel safe. I’d like to go on a proper date with you, if I can.”
Wrecker blinks at her, “You…you do?”
“Yeah, if it’s alright.”
“We don’t really…there isn’t much time for proper dating-” Wrecker stammers, “And I don’t get paid-”
“I do get paid, and, well, it doesn’t have to be a big thing, Wrecker. I just want to spend time with you.”
“Well, in that case, can’t this be considered a date?” Wrecker points out.
She looks startled for a moment, and then she beams at him, “I think that’s a wonderful idea.” She lifts to her knees slightly and presses a light kiss against his cheek, before she settles next to him again.
Wrecker presses his hand against his burning cheek, a wide grin that he isn’t even trying to stifle. 
Being stranded here isn’t as bad as it could be.
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