#guys they really do fall in love again and again...

[mooningningg]

notes, thank you lovely anon for requesting this.

★ Roommate!Sukuna when an argument goes too far.

It started small, like it always did.

A stupid comment. A little snap. Something about the laundry or the dishes or that damn towel he always left on the floor. And like always, Sukuna didn’t take it well.

“You wanna bitch at me about a towel right now?” he scoffed from the kitchen, arms crossed, half shirtless, steam from his ramen curling around him. “Of all the shit I do around here, it’s the fucking towel that sets you off?”

“You don’t do anything around here,” you said, voice sharp. “You leave a mess, you ignore me, and when I ask you to do the bare minimum—”

“Oh, fuck off,” he cut in, slamming the counter with the heel of his hand. “Don’t start with that martyr crap again. You wanna live with someone perfect? Go move in with one of those boring-ass guys you keep flirting with.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Is that what this is about?”

He barked a bitter laugh. “No. It’s about how you act like I’m some fucking inconvenience in your life. You think I want to tiptoe around your moods every goddamn day?”

“I tell you how I feel and you call it a mood?”

“I call it what it is.”

Your heart clenched — hard. You shook your head, lips trembling. “You know what, forget it. This isn’t working anymore. I can’t keep doing this with you.”

He didn’t flinch. “Then don’t.”

The silence that followed was louder than any slam of a door. Your breath caught in your throat, chest tight.

“I’m staying at Shoko’s tonight,” you said quietly, voice already cracking.

He rolled his eyes, leaning back against the counter. “Yeah, run away. Real mature.”

You looked at him then — really looked — and something in your face must’ve shifted. Because his arrogance cracked just slightly.

But you still turned.

Still walked toward the door.

And just before you could open it—

“Oh come on, don’t start crying now,” he snapped. “You dish it out, but when someone gives it back—”

You turned around with tears spilling down your cheeks.

The words landed hard.

You opened your mouth — then shut it again.

It was like your lungs stopped working. Like everything in your chest just... gave out.

Sukuna watched your face change, and instantly, instantly, something shifted in him. Like a violent crash hitting the wrong building.

“Wait—shit,” he muttered, stepping forward, voice lower now. “Don’t—”

But you were already turning away.

Already wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand.

Already moving toward the door with keys in your hand and your entire body shaking.

That’s when it hit him.

Hard.

“No,” he said quickly, grabbing your wrist — not tight, just urgent. “Hey—no. Don’t. You don’t have to—”

You wrenched free, not cruelly, but enough.

“I’m not doing this anymore,” you said. “You say the nastiest shit just to win.”

“I didn’t mean it!” he shouted, desperation rising. “I just—fuck, I don’t know. You know I don’t think that. I was pissed, I was—fuck.”

You reached for the doorknob.

“Don’t walk out,” he said, voice cracking. “Please.”

You turned, finally — cheeks wet, eyes shining.

“Why not?” you whispered. “You don’t even like me half the time.”

He went still.

Everything about him looked like it hurt — like he’d rather take a blade to the gut than hear that again.

“I’m not good with words. You know that,” he continued, stepping closer. “But seeing you cry? It’s like… like someone scraped me hollow.”

You blinked hard, holding back more tears.

“I’d rather set this whole building on fire than see that again,” he said. “So yeah. I’ll shut the fuck up. I’ll take it all back. You win. Just… don’t cry like that again. Not because of me.”

And when you didn’t move — when you stood there, lip trembling, still too hurt to fall into his arms — Sukuna broke the final wall.

He dropped to his knees, forehead pressed against your stomach, arms wrapping around your waist like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled against your shirt. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby.”

For once, he said it like he meant it.

For once, you believed it.

Taglist, @humeysaga @williamafton26 @aranisbaee @probablynotleahhhh @probablynotleahhhh. @beaniesayshi @levifiance @rinofcike @fushiguroooozzz @gojoscumslut @bellsoftheball @kunascutie.

[cameronsbabydoll]

BASIC TRAINING — CHAPTER THREE

WARNINGS — invasion of privacy, diary-reading without consent, possessive male POV, inner obsession, implied virginity, age gap dynamics, inappropriate fantasies, minor delusion/grooming-adjacent thoughts, manipulation (anything italicized is what’s written in the diary!)

You didn’t even realize you’d dropped it.

That’s the funniest part. Funniest to him, at least.

You were walking too fast across the courtyard. Flustered again. Maybe it was because Rafe had called you sweetheart with that slow drawl, lingering on the “s,” right in front of three privates. You stammered through a hello, eyes darting everywhere but him, clutching your bag like a shield.

He watched you walk off.

And then he saw it — a slim pink notebook, barely thicker than a pamphlet, slipped from your tote and dropped behind you like a breadcrumb.

You didn’t hear it. Didn’t turn around.

Just kept walking.

So now it’s his.

He finds it ten seconds later, thumb brushing the soft cover like it might burn. You’d doodled a little sun in the corner. One of the loops is dotted with a heart. The name you wrote inside?

First name only. Bubbly handwriting. Like a schoolgirl.

He flips to the first page and grins.

“Summer Goals ☀️💕”

— swim more

— read 5 books

— learn how to french braid my hair

— kiss someone (REAL kiss!)

— fall in love

— try wine or beer!

— say no without feeling bad

— be brave

Rafe lets out a low breath. One part humor. One part something else.

God, you’re even softer than he thought.

You want to fall in love. Kiss someone. Try wine or beer.

He wonders if you think all those things will happen in one night. If you still believe in movie endings and fireworks and a guy showing up with flowers.

You’re doomed.

He flips further.

You’ve used it like a diary. You don’t date the pages. Just talk to yourself. Or maybe talk to someone. The kind of someone you wish existed. The kind of man who listens. The kind of man who stays.

“Saw him again today.

He called me sweetheart. I shouldn’t like it, but I do.

He looks at me like he knows things I don’t. It makes me feel dumb. But also kind of… not dumb? Like I want to know what he knows?”

Rafe shifts on the bench.

His grip tightens.

You’re writing about him.

Not a crush. Not a passing observation. You feel something. He’s getting in your head already and you don’t even know it.

You’re still so fucking clueless.

He turns the page.

“My dad would kill me. If he knew what I was thinking…

It’s not even bad! I just. I don’t know.

I want someone to touch me.

Not like that!! I mean. Okay maybe like that. But not gross. Like… soft. Gentle.

I want to know what it feels like to be wanted.”

He leans back against the wall. The notebook drops into his lap.

It takes a full sixty seconds before he even breathes.

You’ve never even been touched. Not really.

You’re writing about your own fantasies like they’re foreign concepts. You don’t even know how it works. You’re scared of it. Confused. Hoping someone will take the guesswork out of it.

And Rafe? He’d do it without a fucking second thought.

But not soft. Not gentle.

He wants you ruined.

Wants you to forget every boy you ever dreamed about because he made you come harder than any of them ever could.

He wants to be your first. And only.

The next page pushes it further.

“I think he’s older. He must be. He looks like he’s seen a lot.

But I like that. I think I want that. Someone who can take care of me. Who already knows what he’s doing.

Someone who knows how to tell me what to do.”

He closes the notebook, fast. Like it’ll melt his palms if he doesn’t.

This isn’t about teasing anymore.

This isn’t even about baiting you.

This is about possession.

You already want the thing he planned to take.

He slides the book into his pocket. He’ll return it. Eventually. Maybe tomorrow.

Maybe after he reads it again.

Maybe after he’s jacked off to the words “tell me what to do” while moaning your name into his fist.

You knock on his office door the next morning.

He’s not surprised. You’re flustered. Lip bitten. Crimson on your cheeks.

“Sweetheart,” he drawls, opening the door wider. “You look like you lost a puppy.”

You blink up at him, embarrassed. “I—I think I dropped my notebook yesterday. I was just wondering if…”

“Notebook, huh?”

He moves slowly to the desk. Opens a drawer.

Pulls it out with a casual shrug.

“This one?”

Your eyes light up. You nod, stepping forward to take it—but he doesn’t let go.

He watches you.

Tilts his head. Then slowly, very deliberately, presses it into your hands. His fingers brush your wrists.

“You should be more careful with your private thoughts, sweetheart,” he says low. “Never know who might be reading.”

You freeze.

He smiles.

And then he walks away.

You flip through it later. Nothing’s changed. Nothing missing.

But somehow… something feels different.

You can’t explain it.

The pages feel heavier. The air between your fingers charged. You catch yourself wondering—just for a second—if he meant something else. If he read—

No. No, he wouldn’t.

Would he?

That night, Rafe sits outside on the barrack steps.

His boots are dusty. His knuckles bruised. He smells like gasoline and aftershave and heat.

And he’s smiling.

Because you’re so, so clueless.

And he’s so, so patient.

But not for much longer.

[writer-freak]

♥ Romance SFW and NSFW Headcanons

A/n: And I now also have Romance headcanons ready like I'm on a roll(actually I just started with the guys I thought were the easiest to write). You can definitely expect more Kpop Demon Hunters content but I think I'm gonna work on some requests first lmao. (But if someone wants to feed my ask box with Kpdh requests I wouldn't be opposed)

He will write you love letters. Sweet little handwritten notes tucked into your bag, your coat pocket, your nightstand. “To the light of my life, please remember to drink water today. I love you madly.” quite a few of them probably have a kiss mark from him on them.

You mention liking a flower once? He brings a bouquet of it to your door and says something like “These were the prettiest ones they had… but still not even close to your beauty.” You try to roll your eyes, but your cheeks are actually heating up.

He’s so good at reading you. Doesn’t matter how much you try to hide it, he’ll be at your side with a soft, “You okay, my love?” and arms open for a long hug before you can say a word.

Again another clingy man but he#s never overwhelming, just… always there. A hand on the small of your back, forehead kisses, lying on your chest and humming softly.

He loves having his hair played with and will absolutely melt if you braid it, brush it, or just stroke it while he rests in your lap.

He likes going all out for dates with you

Think candlelit rooftop dinners, soft music, and fairy lights.

You’re like, “You really didn’t have to do all this.” And he just looks at you, utterly serious: “But my darling… you exist. That demands celebration.”

He will dramatically fall into your arms at the end of the day like, “I worked hard, and now I need cuddles.”

You scoff, but you always indulge him. He rewards you with soft kisses up your neck and sleepy romantic murmurs

He sings you to sleep (Yes, Really)

Softly hums while holding you at night, especially if you’re stressed. Sometimes it’s a lullaby in Korean, sometimes it’s whatever pop song’s been stuck in his head, but always sweet, always close to your ear.

If you fall asleep first, he kisses your forehead and whispers, “Goodnight, my heart.”

NSFW

I think he does more poetic dirty talk

He will whisper things like, “You are divine… like something dreamt up just to drive me wild.” while trailing kisses down your neck.

Then suddenly shift into a lower tone: “And you entirely belong to me.”

He’s flirty, thinks nothing of whispering in your ear in public, brushing your thigh under the table, or leaning close to say, “Careful, my love. Keep looking at me like that and I’ll have to carry you home early.”

Loves when you’re on top (in every way)

I like to believe that he would just worship you. You ride him and he adores it, hands gripping your thighs like he’s in church and you’re the altar. “You look like heaven above me” he moans, breathless and wide-eyed.

Marks You Subtly but also clearly

Nothing too aggressive just the ghost of teeth at your shoulder, a hickey just beneath your collar. “So everyone knows someone treasures you properly.”

Also one obsessed with you wearing his stuff. “You look better in it than I ever could, babe.”

Cuddly, and talkative Aftercare

Once you're both calmed down satisfied sighs escaping you

He wraps around you, pulls the blanket up, and strokes your skin like you’re precious porcelain. Whispers compliments into your shoulder “I love you so much it scares me sometimes. But I’d still choose you every time.”

Divider by: @hyuneskkami

[caffine-exe]

『 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝓇𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 』 | m.list

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: You die. Or at least, you think you do. One minute you're bleeding out alone in an alley, and the next, you're waking up in a warm bed with two men you swear you've never seen before. Apparently, they're your husbands. Apparently, they're very in love. And apparently, you're now stuck in a world where Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto, the most insufferably overbearing men you've ever met, won't leave you alone. But the worst part is the question of how this version of you ever let herself fall for them. Because you're not that girl. You don't need anyone. You won't let them in too close. And you will absolutely not be falling in love with them. Seems like Satoru and Suguru have to figure out how to win your heart all over again. Either that, or you'll find a way to convince them to get a divorce.

𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓈: husbands!satosugu/f!reader | parrallel universe-ish | polyamory | slowburn on the mc side | soft yandere | domestic fluff | jealousy | hurt/comfort | whipped satosugu | porn with plot | explicit sexual content | threesome f/m/m

posted on ao3

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

a/n from @sugurumyshayla: hey guys, sorry this took a while to get updated but it's here thanks to my good friend @caffine-exe. so ive got news for yall, bc im not really up for writing this fic i was ab to discontinue it but ciggy suggested taking over instead (she wrote the most recent chap 3) yall can trust her w/ this task i've given her the plot i've planned for this fic and ive read through the chapter it's literally going perfect. we'll co op on this one from now on. thanks for your patience!

a/n (ciggy): yooo 🙋‍♀️ i hope i dont disappoint anyone with this but i've got a pretty good understanding w/ how shay wants this all to go and she'll be there to boss me around if it's otherwise. oh and im changing the theme :) enjoyyyy!

[hearts4hughes]

https://www.tumblr.com/hearts4hughes/786738253259816960/exbf-rafe-is-breaking-me-especially-reader

I hear what this anon is saying

But

I like ex!Rafe 🤷

Ex!Rafe finding out reader’s out with a guy who Rafe sees as a danger to her. Like idk the guy drives his bike without a helmet and Rafe catches reader and this guy going really fast and neither are wearing helmets. So Rafe, rightfully so, loses his shit at how reckless this man is being with reader

he shouldn’t be checking. it’s pathetic—he knows that. it’s the kind of behavior he’d mock if it belonged to anyone else. but rafe’s thumb moves anyway, thoughtless, practiced. tap, scroll, tap. your profile loads like muscle memory, like something god designed to live under his gaze.

you haven’t blocked him. though, you unfollowed him, obviously. but your account’s still public, and tonight you posted. his heart starts racing faster. he prays it’s a photo of you smiling. maybe candid. something to remind him what you look like happy. instead, it’s a video. some shaky clip from someone else’s story, reshared to yours. it’s short, grainy, barely visible. it’s loud with motion…wind…and you—

on the back of a motorcycle.

your bare arms are wrapped around someone else. someone taller, broader, clad in a leather jacket. he’s helmetless. that’s when rafe realizes that you are too. the speed at which the motorcycle moves, it’s not freedom, it’s a death wish. the kind of recklessness rafe is all too familiar with.

the video clicks off and he watches it again, and again. luckily you forgot to turn your location off. his jaw tightens. breath caught like smoke in his chest. he doesn’t think, just grabs his keys and slides into the porsche like it’s an exhale.

~

you don’t see the headlights at first. you’re smiling too hard, windblown, and dizzy from the ride. everything smells like late june and gasoline, and there’s a part of you that liked pretending you weren’t the kind of girl who used to fall asleep to rafe’s quarterly earnings calls and wake up to his cologne on your sheets.

then he’s there. almost like he never left. he’s pulling up fast, aggressive—like always. his windows are down, engine of the car you used to love purring with a threat. your stomach drops.

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” rafe says, stepping out of the car like a storm in black sweatpants—gray hoodie, hair wild, eyes darker than you remember. darker than they have any right to be.

the guy on the bike blinks. he looks between the two of you and laughs. “can we help you, bro?”

rafe doesn’t even look at him. his gaze’s locked on you like he’s trying to burn a hole clean through your chest. “get off the bike.”

your heart jumps and your cheeks fill with color. “rafe-“

“now.”

the guy scoffs. “you her dad or something?”

“no,” rafe says flatly. “but i know what her skull looks like on a CT scan. do you?”

the silence that follows his deafening. the guy clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck. you swing your leg off the bike slowly, grounding your heels like it might keep the earth from shaking. “it was just a ride.”

rafe laughs. it’s not a nice sound. “yeah? just a ride on the back of a stranger’s death machine with zero protection while he weaves through traffic like he’s trying to impress you?”

“he’s not a stranger-” you begin. your knees start to buckle, lip quivers.

“you don’t know him,” he snaps. “you don’t know what he drinks, if he takes pills, if he texts while driving,” he inhales deeply. “you don’t know who’s holding your fucking life in their hands and you’re smiling like it’s a goddamn music video.”

you flinch. the guy shifts behind you, arms folding. “hey, man, maybe take it down a-”

rafe rounds on him. “shut the fuck up,” his tone leaves no room for debate. “don’t talk to me. don’t talk to her. don’t look at her.”

you don’t speak. not yet. your teeth dig into the inside of your cheek, adrenaline sharpening everything, the taste of regret already forming behind your tongue.

rafe turns back to you, jaw tight, hands clenched at his sides like he’s resisting the urge to shake sense into you. “what were you thinking?” his voice breaks. not loud, but raw. “you think this proves something? that you’re free? you’re not. you’re just-” he swallows and looks away for half a second. “you’re just lucky i saw it before the morgue did.”

you hate how your throat tightens. how the shame tastes so familiar. how his worry still lives on you like perfume that won’t wash off. “i didn’t mean to scare you.”

“you didn’t scare me,” he lies. then, softer he murmurs, “you gutted me.”

you look down. gravel crunches under your shoes as you shift your weight. “i don’t belong to you anymore, rafe.”

“you never stopped,” he says, almost too quiet. then he opens his passenger door before you can argue. he doesn’t say anything, but the disappointment in his eyes bores through you like a laser. you start to walk forward and the guy behind you scoffs before taking off. tears well in your eyes as you slip onto his leather seat.

the door clicks open as he gets in the driver’s seat. he turns his head, gaze softening now that you’re with him—safe. “if i catch you pulling shit like that again,” he pauses to regain his composure. “i’ll bury whatever asshole you’re with.”

taglist ~ @ren-ni @bungurus @kayperrysinging @cupids-diner @mojitrvo @babygirlboeser @makiplan @ladyatwalmart @qversazex @favbrnette @nothingtosee333her @soft-starr @f10werfae @brennanyay @grungefck @kravinoffswife @restinpaece @illumoria @meetmeintheemeraldpool @miaaaoa @imtalkinnonsense @strawberrymilk99 @angel06babysworld @rafesteddy @drewrry @urcoolgf @thegirlnextdoorssister @sydneysslove @dsfault @missabsey

[undyingdecay]

love love love ur writing Sooo much .. maybe this is mean but the idea of threatening to leave bob and seeing him get all desperate and clingy and begging u not to ever leave hom… maybe that is mean but ouu 😈😈

(cw: reader is manipulative, could be read as pre-thunderbolts)

bob’s the type you don’t even have to raiseyour voice for — not really. you could say it soft, casual, in the middle of folding laundry or lighting a cigarette, and it’d still land like a punch to the gut.

"maybe i should just go."

and it’s like watching something in him snap, just shatter behind his eyes. his whole face crumples. he tries to play it off for maybe half a second — a strained laugh, a sharp breath through his nose — but you see the panic set in. see his fingers twitch, his knee start bouncing, the wet shine already threatening in his eyes before you even finish the sentence.

"what—what the fuck are you talkin’ about?" his voice cracks at the end, high and raw, and you could swear he forgets how to breathe properly in those moments.

the thing about bob is that he’s always convinced you’re to good for him. always carrying that half-drunk paranoia in the back of his throat, waiting for you to wake up one day and realize he’s nothing worth sticking around for. so when you so much as suggest it, it ruins him. completely.

he’s on you in seconds, grabbing your wrist, gripping it too tight like you’ll slip right through his fingers.

"baby—baby, no. no, you can’t. you can’t fuckin’ do that to me, alright? i’ll be better. i’ll—fuck, i swear, whatever you want, i’ll fix it. please."

and he means it. his voice is wrecked, thick with tears, words spilling out in a messy tangle of promises he’ll never quite keep but desperately wants to. his face presses to your stomach, arms wrapping around your waist so tight it almost hurts. you can feel his shoulders shake.

"i can’t—I can’t fuckin’ do this without you, you hear me? you leave and i’m… fuck, i’m nothin’."

and the worst part is? you’ll forgive him. because you always do. because watching him fall apart like that turns something awful in your chest, something half-mean and half-merciful. and he clings to you like you’re the last cigarette in the pack, mouthing apologies against your skin, already promising things he’s too desperate to mean.

"won’t raise my voice again. won’t fuck up. please, don’t leave me, sweetheart, please—"

and maybe you’ll let him suffer for a second longer before pulling his face up, making him look at you, eyes red and wet and so stupidly pretty like this.

"i’m not goin’ anywhere, dumbass."

and the sound he makes after that’s almost worse than the crying.

(but this only leads to the next time that you guys are fucking hes baby trapping you)

[judesmoonbeauty]

Fan translation only. Accuracy not 100%. Please expect grammatical errors. Creative liberties are taken. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere, claim them as your own, or use them without my permission. Thank you for your support! ☾.

We couldn’t catch a carriage after work, so we were walking down the street at night.

(The moon’s so pretty tonight…..)

Reflecting on the Thames, the moon is a perfectly round, soft, creamy color.

The cool night breeze paired with the lovely moon made me feel both refreshed, and my steps lighter.

Not long after, I was walking a step ahead of Jude.

Jude: Ain’t helpin’ ya if take a tumble.

Kate: Pff- Yes, I know.

Having said that, I know that if I really do fall, he’ll help me.

Jude: ……Kate.

Kate: Yeah? Oh!

When I turned at my name being called, something was suddenly tossed to me.

The character for “to thow” is used. However, it can also mean “to toss.” Given the distance from each other and the setting, I feel like toss is more appropriate than throw.

Kate: What’s with the random box?

Jude looked more serious than usual.

Jude: Just open it.

Sensing that something was out of the ordinary, I gingerly opened the box given to me, and found a silver ring inside—

Kate: Jude, what is this….

When I looked up in shock, he appeared exasperated.

Jude: Daft princess, dont’cha get what it means?

Kate: Huh?

Jude: Guess not. Yer a perverted masochist who doesn’t know when to quit, who keep’s comin’ at me, ‘n who’s so foolish it makes me wanna weep.

Kate: Why are you saying mean things about me?!

However, he was looking straight at me, so his insults didn’t even register.

Jude: But yer the only one I have.

The night breeze passes between us, leaving space for one person.

Jude: Ya didn’t ridicule my dream about goin’ to the moon, ‘n ya accepted us cursin’ each other.

Jude: Yer the only woman who can laugh like an idiot, ‘n keep her resolve.

The moonlight shone upon us like we were the only ones in the universe.

Jude: My mind’s been made up since the day I started goin’ steady with ya.

Jude: To give ya my last name. Marry me, Kate.

His words strike my heart, warming my entire being and causing tears to well up in my eyes.

While I was unable to contain my sobs any longer, Jude gave me the most gentle smile I’d ever seen.

Jude: S’what’s it gonna be, Kate.

I nodded repeatedly as I wiped away my tears.

Still, they start pouring again as I clutched the ring and cried out.

Kate: Please make me your wife, Jude!

He laughed at my weepy reply.

Jude: That’s damn fine answer.

He hugged me, smiled as he wiped away my tears and kissed me—

The morning after the happy proposal, I was taking a walk while staring at the engagement ring when Ellis appeared.

Ellis: Oh, that’s...

Kate: Oh, this is...

Ellis smiled before bringing up Jude.

The line literally reads, “Ellis smiled before speaking to Jude.” However, Jude isn’t present at the time as you’ll see in the line below, and he never directly speaks to Jude, so I opted to translate the line this way.

Ellis: Jude finally gave it to you. Congratulations, Kate.

Kate: ….Finally?

As I tilt my head, Ellis whispers.

Ellis: Jude’s been preparing to give you a ring for a long time now Kate.

Kate: What…..

In astonishment I try to look at the ring again, but a hand reaches out from behind and hugs me.

Jude: The hell ya blabberin’ on about.

When Jude appeared, Ellis grinned and silently waved his hand as he walked away.

(So he’s been getting this ready for a long time��.)

Jude: What’cha smilin’ fer?

Kate: Heh…..

As I smiled at the surprising fact I just learned, he grabbed my cheeks and forced me to look up.

His amethyst eyes were annoyed, but still looked at me lovingly.

(Yeah….I’m so hopelessly in love with this guy.)

I wanted to tell him just how much I love him.

Kate: Jude, I love you.

Kate: I’ll love you forever.

In both lines, Kate uses “大好き” (Daisuki), which means to “like very much.” It is holds a lot of affection, and is more commonly used to express love.

He blinked in surprise at my declaration and then instantly changed his expression.

Jude: I love you.

Jude uses the kanji “愛” (Ai). If you don’t know this is a HUGE thing to say….especially for him. It also means "I love you", but it's used very rarely. Typically only for special occasions such as proposals, weddings, deathbeds, that sort of thing. It carries the weight of unconditional or sacrificial love, and loving for the other person’s sake.

Smiling softly, he kissed my lips.

To fulfill our promise to curse each other until the very end—

I will live with you.

[Event Master List]

If you are 18+ years old and wish to be added to my tags list, please feel free to comment or dm me. Please specify if you want to be tagged in all translations or a specific suitor. If you wish to be removed from the list, please feel free to comment or dm me as well.

Tag list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @yuoi-the-magnificent @husbandosandladders @nawlink @justgiulia @vickietickie @greedyqueensfavourite @sharigax @belphiesleftpinkytoe @reimy1164 @barellorkilaam @goustmilk @aceuuuuu @yamaguchisaori @hiphiphooray4val @mika797 @spectraphobic-blog @kiyomizuki @cosmowgyral @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @voydsoul @kraiyne @midnightsrunaway @czechmatee7

[lvl109]

“i’m really fucking nervous about this date and you're not helping at all, you bitch!”

your cries fall on deaf ears as his impartial gaze settles in outfit number sixteen, letting out a petulant huff as cerulean hues drag themselves over the newest combination of the same sweaters and shoes. the only difference? this skirt settled right at your mid thigh. 

his brows furrow. a quick glance to your face makes your arms crossed, but he doesn't miss the embarrassment settling over your face. his eyes narrow immediately.

“you're wearin' the fuck me skirt?!”

“satoru gojo, so help me g—what?” 

he's not listening. he hadn't even been a fan of the absolute douche you'd suddenly became infatuated with, rolling his eyes at your incessant fawning over lending him pens (that he never returned, the audacity of that utensil-poaching fucker) and doing his ultimate best friend duty of trying his best to keep you tethered to earth. 

but his chest twists when he watches you smooth over the short fabric, lips pressed into a thin line as he watches you twist and turn in front of your full length mirror. you look good. and he's told you such after each outfit change. that's not even the issue.

but not that skirt. anything but that skirt.

“i've only ever seen you wear that skirt once! and it was when you were trying to get laid when we went to that frat party!” he points a finger at you accusingly when you scoff. “don't think i forgot. you cried when you saw that ponytail wearin' freak had his tongue down another girl’s throat and then proceeded to throw up all over my shoes!”

“that was two years ago! cho and i are friends now. stop calling him a freak, freak.” you smooth down your hair and check your lips for any smudges, batting off any of his (reasonable) complaints much to his outward dismay. “'fuck me skirt'. why do i even spend time with you? you read too much porn.”

he chooses to ignore that in favor of glaring at your back. “all i'm sayin’ is that i don't trust him. you know, the guy who made you cry so hard you nearly missed your last final? why the hell is he setting you up with someone else? and why are you letting him??”

“because unlike you, i don't have people tripping over their feet trying to get a date with you, alright?” your tube of lipgloss slams down against your dresser with more force than expected. your tone shocks him quiet instantly. “god forbid i go after someone that shows interest in me.”

satoru stares at your expression reflected in the mirror. slight annoyance, exasperation, and a bit of anger he wasn't expecting. but the one that makes him sit up a bit straighter from where he was lounging on your bed was uncertainty. you're nervous. your hands fidget with the hem of your skirt even as you huff in frustration.

“so just… stop, okay? i'm going to see him whether you like it or not. i just want to have a good time tonight.” 

satoru stares. 

the familiar feeling of something rotten stirs in his chest again. it laughs at him as you flit around your room, leering and pointing at his demise. this time when you ask him for his opinion, he tells you what you want to hear. your thankful smile at his cooperation does nothing to tame the growing pit of disdain.

jealousy festers within him once again. who cares if he got confessions daily? who cares if his locker was constantly stuffed to the brim with love letters and candies? who the fuck cared if his phone (silenced, always silenced with you) pinged with countless others clamoring for his attention?

none of it mattered as much as you did to him. none of it did. so why couldn't you see that despite the fame and the notoriety, all he'd ever wanted was you?

he watches as you toe on your shoes, the unspoken offer of using his shoulder to help you balance on each leg going unsaid as you gratefully lean on him. the warmth of your hand is near intoxicating. but he can't help but think about—

if she bent any lower, his inner voice supplies helpfully, anyone could see underneath her skirt. 

he exhales heavily as it laughs at him again, offering an easygoing smile when you raise a brow at him. “i'm sorry, angel,” he offers sweetly, taking your hands in his and drawing you closer. you step in between his legs and narrow your eyes. “i really am, okay? you can't blame me for being protective. i promised your mom, remember?”

“yeah, when we were like five.” you roll your eyes, but you're not as mad at him anymore and his heart does a funny little dance at the sight of a smile peeking through. “idiot. why do you even remember that? we're not kids anymore. i can take care of myself.”

“i literally just told you about how you threw up on my shoes over a stupid guy.”

it earns him a smack to his head, but he chooses to ignore the faint pain in favor of basking in the light of your laugh. “as long as you don't forget about me if you get a boyfriend,” he snarks lightly, pulling out the pout he knows will get a reaction from you. “you promised we'd never be apart. linked pinkies ‘n all. clearly someone doesn't respect the sanctity of pinkie promises.”

he expects another cuff to his head. maybe a smartass response, maybe a shut up, toru. he's used to orbiting around you much to your other friends' shared exasperation and incurable betting habits. (he's sure shoko has made at least a small fortune on him.)

you link your pinkies instead, leaning down to press your lips to your thumb. he goes still for a bit, having to be nudged to do the same. slowly, your thumbs press against each other in a quiet promise.

“don't be stupid.” you ruffle his hair with your other hand, stepping away to look for your bag. he misses your warmth immediately. “you're my best friend. we’ll be together forever.”

just not in the way he wants.

[maxinehufflepuffprincess]

Sleep

BangChan x fem! reader. 9th member.

Taglist. Masterlist. Progress Update. MamaBear Collection.

Summary: Turns out you're a pretty good pillow for the guys.

You were often told by the guys that you were the best pillow. It was just one of the many titles you held within the group. It didn’t matter where you were or what you were doing, the boys always managed to fall asleep on you. Granted, you also did use them as pillows. Some more than others, but they had all had a moment when you had fallen asleep on them, too. You were just happy that the boys were getting sleep.

—--------

After you had recorded your lines for one of the newest songs, Chan had invited you to stay and help out, or just listen. Today you sat beside Chna, helping him to work. There was a gap between Changbin and Seungmin’s sessions. So whilst Han and Binnie went to get food for you all, using your card, you and Chan had decided to stay behind and look through the takes that had already been done.

Chan laid his head on your shoulder and let out a small huff of air. He ran his hands over his face and looked at you for a moment. 

“You okay?” You asked as you placed a kiss on the top of his head.

Chan shook his head. “Struggling to keep my eyes open. But we still have the rest of the team to go.”

“Chris. You can sleep. I can help. I’ve seen you boys use all this enough times to know what I’m doing.” You told him with a small nod of your head.

Chan shook his head once again. “No, I can do it.” He told you, but his eyes fluttered close. You didn’t move, you just let it happen. He was falling asleep, and you weren’t going to stop him. Your boyfriend was asleep for ten minutes before Seungmin came in with Binnie and Han trailing after him. 

“Hi, babies.” You spoke quietly. 

Seungmin walked into the booth and began his vocal warm-ups. Han sat on the couch and immediately began to dig into his food. 

Changin walked over to you and put your card back into your phone. He placed your favourite drink in front of you. Of course, you thanked him. Binnie quickly noticed Chan was asleep. “At least he’s finally sleeping.” He pulled up a chair, ready to help you with whatever you needed. 

You placed a hand on the red button, allowing Seungmin to hear you. “Are you ready, sweetheart?” You asked him softly.

Seungmin nodded and gave you a thumbs up. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Alright. We’ll go from the hook if that’s okay with you?” You asked him, not wanting to control everything. You still wanted Minnie to have his own input. 

And so you sat there and took on Chan’s role. Letting your love get some rest. Seungmin finished his session pretty quickly. He left you with a kiss on the head and a compliment. “You should do this more often. It’s fun seeing you in producer mode.”

Next came I.N. and then Felix. Changbin took over for Felix, but you still stayed, not wanting to move. Not wanting to wake Chan. 

He finally did wake up, though, as you were listening to Hyunjin perfect his line and Han was gearing up to go in. At first, he couldn’t believe he missed so much of the recording, but he gave you a soft kiss and whispered a genuine ‘thank you’. 

—--------

You had been lying on the floor. You were looking through your camera roll as everyone took a break from dance practice. You let out a startled yelp as you felt a hand slap your ass. You turned a little to see Minho cackling. He shook his head and flopped down on the ground beside you. 

“You did well.” He told you as he turned his body and lay down, his head lying on your back. His voice was slower than normal.

“Thank you. You did an amazing job. I know this was a tough routine. I’m proud of you.” You told him with a smile. You turned your head to look at him, only to see Minho’s eyes closed. A small snore left his lips. He must have been really tired. So you decided not to disturb him. You just kept scrolling through your camera roll. 

Chan noticed, though. About five minutes after Leeknow fell asleep, he noticed. He grabbed a pillow off the couch and walked over to you. 

“For your elbows.” He said as he helped you to move so the pillow would go under your arms. You couldn’t help but smile at him. Whilst you were busy making sure Minho slept, here Chan was, making sure you were okay. He ran his fingers through your hair gently. 

“I don’t have the heart to wake him. I know we should be practising, but he’s exhausted. They all are.” You spoke quietly.

Chan nodded his head in agreement and gently took your hand in his. He brought your hand to his lips and gently kissed your knuckles. “We all are. We can call it a day. Come back tomorrow?” He suggested to you. 

You nodded your head. “Yeah. We have the rest of the day cleared. I want the boys to go home and sleep. I’ll stay here until Min wakes up.” 

Chan couldn’t help but let out a small, soft sigh. You were so perfect in his eyes. “I love you.” He told you and placed a kiss on your forehead before standing up. 

“I love you, too.” You replied, the love clear in your voice.

“Alright. I think that’s enough for today. I want you all to go home, shower, eat and get a lot of sleep. We’ll continue practising tomorrow.” Chan told them all. The boys cheered and quickly moved to grab their things. 

Han paused, though, seeing that you, Chan and Leeknow weren’t moving. “Aren’t you three coming?”

“No, sweetheart. We’ll be home later. Min is asleep, and I don’t want to wake him.” You explained to the male. Having heard your words, Han nodded his head. He then looked at Chan. 

“I’m staying to keep her company. I’ll text to let you all know when we’re heading home. Now go.” He ushered the boys out of the room. Though Hyunjin was able to get a quick picture of you and Minho. He claimed it was for blackmail purposes. But the picture found its way as your and Hyunjin’s new contact picture for Minho. 

And so there you stayed. On the floor, with your eldest’s head on your back, fast asleep. The love of your life is lying in front of you. The two of you are playing on your phones, writing a new song together and just talking. Both were patiently waiting for Minho to wake up. There was no rush. Just two people hoping for their seven boys to get all the sleep they needed. 

—--------

Changbin had fallen asleep with his head on your thigh. You had all been chilling at the beach. Having fun, swimming in the ocean and making sandcastles. You had laid down on your side, on the blanket. Seungmin was taking pictures, and you had decided to pose. It was during this little photoshoot that Changbin made his way over to you. He had placed his head on your thigh and had grinned for the camera. 

The thing was, after Minnie was done, Binnie didn’t move. The two of you chatted for a moment, and you fed him some food. Then you began to realise that he hadn’t answered one of your questions. You turned your head to look at him, only to see Changbin fast asleep. His hand was half holding the bottle of water that you had given him. 

You let out a small giggle, grabbing your phone to take a picture of the male. Your hand came to play with his hair for a little while until the position got a little uncomfortable. In the meantime, you decided to enjoy watching the rest of the boys play and have fun. Seungmin was having fun taking pictures. Hyunjin, Felix and Chan were all in the water. Han and I.N. were trying to have a sandcastle competition. 

Minho made his way over to you and sat down beside you. “Sit up.” He said, causing you to frown. But you did it anyway, careful for to disturb Changbin. Leeknow moved so that when you lay back down, your head and arm would be on his lap. 

“Thank you.” 

Leekow just smiled at you and shrugged. “You’d do it for us. Just making sure you’re taken care of too.”

—--------

Hyunjin had decided to crawl into bed with you. You had all got the week off and had decided to get away. So you rented a nice house near a lake, away from everything. It was just the nine of you. You and Chan were lying in bed, watching YouTube. You were watching a YouTuber reacting to some Stray Kids stuff. It was something you enjoyed doing. 

The door to the bedroom opened, causing you and Chan to look over at who was coming in. Hyunjin closed the door behind as before he walked over to the bed. He lifted the covers and crawled into bed beside you. 

“What are we watching?” He asked curiously, and he lay back, his head on your shoulder as he relaxed. Your finger gently ran over his hair lightly, ready to pull away if he wanted you to.

“I thought you were sharing with Changbin tonight?” Chan asked him in confusion. 

Hyunjin shook his head. “No, he’s with Felix tonight.” He shrugged as he looked at the TV. He let out a laugh at something the guy said. “He’s funny.” He clapped. 

You and Chan shared a look. You simply shrugged and relaxed. Chan followed your lead, and the three of you continued to watch the TV. Slowly, as time went on, Hyunjin’s tiredness was getting the better of him. His head moved from your shoulder to the crook of your neck. His breath began to steady out, letting you know that he was slowly falling asleep. Thankfully, you were in a comfortable position. You didn’t want to risk disturbing him. 

One of Hyunjin’s hands was gently gripping your shirt. He slept soundly. Chan turned to look at you and smiled. “You’re so soft with them all.”

You gave him a sweet smile. “I know. But how can I possibly say no to our boys? I like taking care of them. Even if it is just using me as a pillow.” You told him genuinely. 

Chan chuckled. “When we get home, no one is allowed in our room for a week. Just us. No late-night cuddles with the boys for a week. I want you all to myself.” He kissed your cheek and turned off the TV via the remote. He lay down and wrapped his arms around you. 

“Good night, my love.” 

“Sweet dreams, my heart.”

—--------

Jisung was tired. It had been a day jam-packed with dance practices and interviews. Han was starting to feel tired by the time you all went to the studio. You all still have a few more things to do. So the boys went about their business. It was just three more hours, and then you could all go home. 

You stood in the recording booth. The headphone was on your head as you sang into the microphone. You wanted to get your lines over and done with. Chan had perked up a little, hearing you sing. Changbin was drinking coffee and cheering you on. Whilst the three of you were still tired, you managed to create a fun atmosphere. Eventually, you were finished. You exited the booth, giving Chan a soft kiss as you did so. 

You sat on the couch just as Han walked into the room and let out a yawn. You opened your arms for him. “Come here, honey.” 

Han walked over to you. He moved so that his back was against your front, though his head lay on your stomach. Your fingers ran through his hair. 

“Get some sleep, lovely. I’ll wake you when it’s time to go home.” You continued to stroke his hair. As you did this, you softly began to sing ‘Once Upon a Dream’ from ‘Sleeping Beauty’. Han snuggled closer to you as he slowly drifted off to sleep. You continued to sing to him until you were completely sure he was asleep. 

Whilst you had been cuddling Han, Chan had gone into the booth to record his lines, Binnie had, of course, played his role as producer beautifully. You listened to Chan singing and rapping, and a smile found its way on your face. You had always truly adored his voice. Truly and wholly.

Once he stepped out of the booth, he walked over to you and let out a chuckle. “We’ll get to go home soon. I just need Minho to go over his lines, and then we should be done for the day.” 

As if on cue, Leeknow walked into the room. He had previously just been cleaning the dance routine and helping some of the members with the moves. He was tired, but he was adamant about getting his lines done with. He gently stroked Han’s hair before heading to the booth, 

You would all be done soon. For now, though, you were happy to just let Jisung continue sleeping. You didn’t mind being a pillow for him. As long as he was getting the sleep he needed, you were happy. 

—--------

Felix walked into the kitchen. He silently watched you as you cleaned up. Technically, you shouldn’t be the one cleaning as you, Chan and Minho had cooked for the group. Every week, you all always had what you called a ‘family meal’. It was normally held in your, Chan and Innie’s dorm. But the family dinners were important. Whilst yes, you all spent a lot of time together, family dinners were a no-work zone. It was the same day every week, and everyone always made time for it. It was a chance for the nine of you to unwind and just enjoy each other’s company. 

You finished cleaning up and turned to look at Felix. “Are you okay, baby?” You asked him softly as you walked over to him. He looked tired, really tired. 

“I was wondering if we could cuddle?” He asked hopefully, then let out a yawn and covered his mouth. 

You nodded and walked over to him. You gently took his hand and led him to the free couch. You lie down. Felix carefully lay on top of you. His head comes to lie on your chest, his legs between yours. Your fingers gently ran through his dark hair. You felt his body relax into you. Your free hand came to gently rub his back. 

You began to hum ‘Blue’ by ZeroBaseOne. Slowly, Felix was beginning to drift off to sleep. The rest of the world didn’t matter. He ignored the sound of Changbin flirting with Hyunjin. Of the sounds of Seungmin and I.N. giggling over something Minho and Han were doing. What he didn’t miss, though, was a second hand gently stroking the nape of his neck. The last thing he heard before he let sleep take him was you, your voice softly singing to him.

“I wanna run, into your world of bright blue, whoa, touch the clouds.”

Chan had watched you and Felix when you had entered the room. He had watched as you let Felix snuggle into you, using your chest as a pillow, as he often did. His arms wrapped around you as you wrapped your arms around him. Your hands are moving from muscle memory. One gently stroked his hair, hoping to get him to relax. Your other hand wants to comfort him, but still being careful.

Chan got up and walked over to the two of you. He grabbed a blanket. It was cold, so he wanted to make sure you were both warm enough. Chan gently placed a hand on the nape of Felix’s neck, hoping for him to have a good sleep. 

You looked up at Chan and smiled softly. “Hi.” You spoke softly. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” He leant down and placed a kiss on your forehead. He put the blanket over the two of you. “Let me know when you want me to move him to the bed.” He ran his fingers through your hair. 

You gently nodded your head and smiled. “I will.”

Chan sat down on the floor in front of the couch you were on. He leaned back, enjoying getting close to you. He could be all lovey-dovey with you around the boys. You could be near and just be. They didn’t mind. They would tease you both, but the guys allowed a space where the two of you could be together freely and wholeheartedly. 

The evening continued on, and Felix was still fast asleep. The boys had fun playing games and just talking. Eventually, though, sleep was creeping up on everyone. You had somehow found yourself fast asleep during the chaos, though not before you invited Seungmin to stay the night, since Felix wasn’t going anywhere, you had offered for Minnie to stay so he wouldn’t have to be in the dorm on his own. Innie had offered for the two of them to share his room, with Minnie accepted. 

When you woke up the next moment, you found yourself in the same position as you had been in that evening, only now you and Felix were in bed and Chan was sleeping peacefully beside you both. 

—--------

You were all filming for a new SKZ Code episode. You were all having a lot of fun. You had all played a lot of games and done a lot of fun activities. However, the day was slowly coming to an end. The camera crew had left, allowing you and the boys to spend the rest of the night how you wanted. Of course, there were cameras in more a less every room, and also pointing outside. 

You were sitting next to Chris. Your head on his shoulder as you snuggled close to him. You were all giggling and just having a good laugh. Han stood in the middle of the room. He had been trying to make a joke, only to completely lose his train of thought after watching Felix throw a marshmallow to I.N., who caught it in his mouth. 

You suddenly felt pressure on your lap. You looked down to see that Seungmin had lain down beside you, his head on your lap. 

“Tired puppy?” You asked him curiously as you gently stroked the hair by the shell of his ear.

Seungmin nodded his head as he slowly closed his eyes. You moved your attention back to the group. You continued to stroke Seungmin’s hair lightly. It was a habit of yours. One that you didn’t notice at first, but Hyunjin had been the one to point it out to you, whenever one of the boys fell asleep on you, you’d play with their hair if you could reach it.

Seungmin wasn’t the only one to fall asleep, though, as Felix had fallen asleep on Hyunjin. However, the rest of you stayed up a little longer, talking and discussing what challenges you all thought would happen tomorrow. 

Chan was the one who eventually sent everyone to bed. “It’s getting late, and we all need to get some sleep.” He said. The rooms had already been chosen earlier in the day due to some games. 

“I don’t want to wake either of them up just to go upstairs.” You said as you bit your bottom lip softly. 

Changbin stood up and walked over to you. “I’ll carry him up. Which room is he in?” He asked as he carefully scooped Seungmin into his arms and lifted him. The sleeping male let out a small whine but stayed asleep. 

“Thank you. He, Lixie and Innie are sharing a room. Upstairs, second door on the right.” You explained as you stood up. You placed a gentle kiss on Seungmin’s forehead. “Sweet dreams, Puppy.” Changbin then made his way upstairs, with the second youngest in his arms.

You turned to Hyunjin. “Are you up for carrying Lixie upstairs?” You asked curiously, causing the taller male to nod his head. “Thank you, hun.” You walked over and repeated what you had done with Seungmin. You kissed his forehead and smiled. “Sweet dreams, baby.” You stepped back, allowing Hyunjin the room to stand up, lift Felix and carry him upstairs. Soon enough, everyone said good night to each other, and some hugs were exchanged. But eventually you were yourself were fast asleep with your head in Chan’s chest and his arms around your body.

—--------

Jeongin looked out of the window. Changbin was driving with Chan in the passenger seat. In the back were you, I.N. and Seungmin.  Leeknow was driving the second car, with Hyunjin in the passenger seat and the Sunshine twins in the back. 

You were on your way home after having a fun day out. I.N. was slumped in his seat. He was tired, and the movement of the car was not helping him to stay away. He was slowly nodding off. He didn’t notice that he had begun to lean into you. His head lay on your arm at a weird angle. So, you carefully moved his head to your shoulder, not wanting him to wake up with a stiff neck. 

The music in the car played quietly. The sound of Chan and Binnie talking filled the space, but not in an overbearing way. They were mainly discussing where to stop off to get food before going home. Chan was texting Hyunjin the details. Seungmin was watching something on his phone, but he too found himself leaning on your shoulder. You closed your eyes, not falling asleep but just enjoying the atmosphere. You spoke up whenever you were asked a question or when Chan or Binnie included you in the conversation. 

You were happy, though, letting the two youngest members of the group use you as a pillow. With one fast asleep and the other in his own world. You would never complain about being the group’s pillow. Because it meant they were comfortable with you. When asleep, a person is at their most vulnerable. And then sleeping on you showed they trusted you. They trusted you to let them sleep, to keep them safe, to keep them comfortable. You were to be that person for them, because you knew they’d do the same if the roles were reversed. 

 

—------------

Everything Taglist: Thank you for supporting me. @thecheshireprincess @potato-vagina @spanish-delulu-23 @deliciousmagazinequeen @myblovedjyh @alex--awesome--22

SKZ Taglist: Thank you for supporting me. @jinnie-ret

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

REMEMBER YOU YOUNG // bucky barnes

CHAPTER 1: WELCOME TO NEW YORK

Summary: You end up stuck in 1942 without a way to come back, but when you meet the young and charming version of Bucky Barnes, do you really want to go back to the present?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of war, lack of 40's knowledge, mentions of back to the future & the butterfly effect (with spoilers)

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. I'm sorry for any grammatical or spelling errors. No proofread or beta-ed.

It’s been an eternity since I've written for Bucky… I posted this fic I a few years ago, and I was going through it again, but I wasn’t happy with how I wrote it back in the day, so I decided to start it over. Reader how travels back in time and falls in love with Bucky is one of my favorite tropes 🙈 Hope you guys like it!!!!

marvel masterlist | series masterlist

It was supposed to be an easy mission.

In and out.

Easy. Risk-free.

You'd had the warehouse under surveillance for weeks, every corner carefully analyzed, the plan memorized like a mantra.

Steve had repeatedly said, “Do not touch the crystal.” To be honest, he'd repeated it more times than necessary. And even if you'd never admit it, you knew you were the reason for it.

Impulsive.

Reckless.

Hot-headed.

You were a good agent; that was indisputable. But you had the flaw of having trouble keeping your restlessness and curiosity at bay.

And that's why, when you entered the room, with Wanda behind you, your eyes were drawn to the glass resting on a pillar in the center of the room. It radiated an almost hypnotic white glow.

Steve's voice warning that the crystal shouldn't be touched without proper protection echoed in a remote corner of your mind, like an echo fading into the distance. And even closer, Wanda's voice was a murmur urgently calling your name.

You couldn't help it. It was like a magnetic pull, and the Chrono Crystal was chanting your name.

Your hand extended slowly, almost subconsciously. The moment felt frozen in time, as if the world had stopped spinning for a split second. When your fingertips finally made contact with the raw edges of the crystal, a pulse rushed through your body, leaving you paralyzed.

And then it happened.

The first thing was a powerful flash of light, so powerful that when you faced it, you had to close your eyes and shield your face with your arm.

The next thing was a tremor, the vibration of the ground resonating through your bones, and with a shudder, you lost your balance, collapsing next to Wanda on the cold concrete floor.

Then, a gust of wind blew toward you, a whirlwind that carried with it a force that defied logic. The white light intensified even further, enveloping every corner of the room in a flash so bright it was impossible to see anything. A few seconds later, the chaos ceased, and everything went black.

As your vision cleared, you realized something was wrong. The cold walls and concrete floor of the warehouse had been replaced by the grimy walls and floor of a dimly lit alley.

You slowly got up from the ground, wincing in pain as you touched your side, feeling it slightly bruised from the fall. Dazed and disoriented, you struggled to process your abrupt displacement. You found yourself standing in a narrow alleyway, surrounded by decaying posters plastered on the walls. The clamor of bustling city life and indistinct chatter filled your ears.

Your mind raced as you tried to make sense of the situation. “What the hell just happened?”

You heard Wanda groaning while getting up on her feet, brushing the dust off her jacket. When her sight gathered back its focus, her expression morphed into a confused one, which you were pretty sure matched yours.

“Where are we?”

You took tentative steps, your eyes darting from one end of the alley to the other, searching for any semblance of familiarity. The disorienting shift in your surroundings fueled a growing sense of unease within you. Your heart raced as you tried to recall what could have caused this bewildering displacement.

Then it hit you.

“The crystal,” you murmured.

“Steve warned you not to touch it,” she reprimanded.

“Actually, he warned all of us.”

“He just said it because of you.”

And you knew she was right.

You turned around to see Wanda, who was holding a newspaper in her hands with a frightened expression on her face. 

“What is it?” you inquired, curious as to what had disturbed her so deeply. She put out the newspaper for you to read, and dread settled in your gut. 

“THE BATTLEFRONTS OF THE WAR IN THE SOUTHWESTERN PACIFIC JAPANESE CLOSING PINCERS ON JAVA”

And the date.

February 18, 1942.

“We’re… We’re in the past.” The realization tumbled from your lips, heavy and surreal.

Was it actually feasible that you had gone back in time? 

Is this why they kept the crystal secured?

“What do we do now?” Wanda looked at you as if she expected you to come up with a solution; after all, you were responsible for this situation. If you had followed Steve’s orders and not touched the Chrono Crystal, you would not be here right now. Instead, you would have finished the mission and be back at the compound, safe and enjoying a cup of ice cream while watching some shitty show on Netflix.

You sighed. “I don’t know.”

“They’re going to come for us, right?”

You could hear the tremble of anxiety in her voice as she spoke, and it matched your own mounting fear. The weight of the moment pressed down on your shoulders, with each second extending into eternity as you tried to come up with a plan.

“Yeah, eventually,” you replied, though your words were coated with uncertainty. “They must have realized something had happened. Tony and Banner would quickly figure out what the crystal can do.”

“What do we do until then?”

For the time being, you concluded that looking for a place to stay was the best course of action. You stepped out of the alley and onto the streets of Brooklyn. 

The air was filled with the sounds of streetcars clattering down the rails and people discussing the latest news. The sidewalks were bustling with activity, lined with oak trees and lampposts. 

Men in hats and suits, women in gowns with nicely coiled curls, all going about their daily routines. Stores displayed their goods in small windows, luring passersby with flashy signs. The aromas of freshly baked bread and fried fish wafted from corner delis and bakeries.

You noticed the advertisements painted on brick walls, touting things that have long ago disappeared or evolved, and the newspaper boys shouting headlines about the ongoing war, and mothers rushing by with their children.

Everything felt so familiar yet completely foreign.

You understood how Steve felt when he walked into Times Square for the first time after being defrosted.

As you went through the crowd, you could see people giving you weird looks, attempting to get out of your way, and avoiding walking near you at all. 

“Why are they looking at us like that?” you inquired.

Wanda halted walking and grabbed your hand, dragging you to the side of the roadway. “I think it’s the clothes,” she pointed out.

“What’s wrong with our— ” You stopped your words when you took a look at what you were wearing. “Oh.”

You couldn’t stroll down like that. It was drawing attention, which was the last thing you two needed right now. Wanda paused for a moment, unsure if she should do what she was contemplating or not; it was a good option, the only one you had. 

Wanda sighed. She did not have a choice. 

You glanced at her and immediately knew what she wanted to do. It was one of the many reasons The Scarlet Witch was your closest friend—there was no need for words to communicate what the other was thinking.

With a snap of her fingers and just a few seconds later, you glanced down to see your new garments. Your twenty-first-century clothing had been swapped for simple, period-appropriate attire, resembling those commonly worn by women in those days.

You looked at her with the fascination that you’d always held whenever you saw Wanda utilize her powers. You couldn’t understand why people could be afraid of her when she could do such wonderful things.

The next day, you were lying in the bed of the hostel you were staying in, and the ceiling had never looked more interesting. It had been more than 24 hours, and you still hadn't heard from your friends.

You hadn’t left the room since you arrived and were beginning to feel suffocated.

“Let’s get out,” you said as you rose from the bed. Wanda averted her attention from the book she was reading and glanced at you as if you’d grown a second head.

“Are you crazy? We can’t just wander around the city like that!”

“Why not?” You pouted and sat in her bed next to her. “What is the harm?”

Impulsive.

Reckless.

Hot-headed.

Careless.

Wanda sighed and shut the book in her hands. “We aren’t home! We cannot parade around the city as if we belong here.”

“I just want to have some fun!”

“You wanting to have fun is what brings you into trouble, and let the rest of us deal with the consequences.”

She was not trying to be mean. She loved you; you were her best friend, her shoulder to cry on, and the only consistency in her life, but your persistent negligence drove her nuts. No matter how many times you burned, you never learned.

Like right now— you were stuck eighty years back in the past because of your reckless behavior, and you wanted to go out and have fun as if it were any other Friday.

You got up abruptly from the bed and made your way to the door.

“Where are you going?”

You did not respond to her as you exited the room, closing the door behind you and leaving the building and onto the streets of New York. You knew you were acting childishly, and Wanda was correct, but you were too proud to admit it.

You wandered through the streets with no particular destination in mind; all you wanted was to feel the breeze on your face. You had been walking for at least twenty minutes when you spotted a building that caught your eye.

‘The Lindy Lounge’

A dance hall.

You crossed the street and headed towards the building. 

The doorman, dressed in a clean white shirt, a black vest, and a bow tie, smiled and nodded to you in greeting.

A live band playing a fast tune, the beating of tap shoes on the shiny wooden floor. The aromas of perfume and tobacco smoke hung in the air.

Couples swayed in perfect sync with the music on the dance floor. A half-moon-shaped bar circled one wall of the room where patrons gathered, sipping cocktails and chatting.

The scene was completely different from the clubs you used to go to in Brooklyn nowadays.

As your eyes kept exploring the room, you spotted a short man standing out from the crowd that you couldn’t help but recognize. You narrowed your eyes, trying to get a better glimpse of him.

He was so much different now, but you could still recognize Steve Rogers anywhere.

You turned away as soon as you recognized him. Steve could not see you—yes, he didn’t know who you were yet, but he would meet you in the future, which could have a wide range of consequences. 

What if you do something that changes the past and influences the future?

You’ve watched ‘Back to the Future’ enough times to know that one small action could create ripples across time. 

The butterfly effect was no joke. 

What if you do something that alters the past and impacts the future?

Like when Marty unintentionally interfered with his parents’ first meeting, almost wiping himself out of existence.

Or that other movie with Ashton Kutcher, where he realized he could travel back to key moments in his life by reading his journals. Every time he modified an event in his past to achieve a better future for himself, he discovered that the repercussions of his actions were far more intricate and catastrophic than he ever anticipated.

You groaned inwardly at the thought; you couldn’t let that happen.

That would be your biggest screw-up ever.

You began to panic, your mind racing as you made your way back to the exit, only to turn around and clash with someone.

“Careful, doll.” 

That voice, why did it sound so familiar to you? 

You looked up, heart pounding, and found yourself staring into the piercing steel-blue eyes of a much younger version of Bucky Barnes.

His gaze was soft, devoid of all the sorrow he had become familiar with these days, and the charming smile across his face contrasted sharply with the ever-present frown he wore now.

The Bucky Barnes you knew was nothing like the man who currently stood in front of you.

“Bucky?” You stammered, your lips moving before you could control them. 

Here it goes, the second mistake of the night.

Confusion washed over his face. “Do we know each other?”

Your brain short-circuited, searching for a plausible response.

“Um– I mean… Is there any single lady in Brooklyn who doesn’t know who Bucky Barnes is?” You said, forcing a hollow laugh from your mouth.

He chuckled lightly, and the sound shot a thrill through you. It was so rare to hear Bucky laugh, “Guess you have a point there. I’m hard to miss.”

You sighed internally, relieved that your somewhat picky line had worked. 

His hand was still resting on your shoulder, having caught you when you collided with him and kept you from falling. It felt warm and reassuring, in sharp contrast to the chaos in your mind. You couldn’t believe you were standing in front of a version of Bucky who wasn't burdened by the weight of years of HYDRA’s torment. 

A Bucky that was on the verge of becoming what he would inevitably turn out to be. 

“Uh, are you alright?” he inquired, tilting his head slightly, a hint of concern creasing his brow, and then it was then that you realized you had been staring at him for far too long, lost in contemplation.

You hurriedly averted your gaze, muttering, “Y-yeah, sorry.”

You tried to get by him and keep to your original plan of leaving the club. If letting Steve see you was a bad idea, talking to Bucky was far worse. But he gently grasped your upper arm as you were about to depart, turning your heels back to face him.

“C’mon, doll. You can’t leave me like that,” he said with a smile that never left his face. 

It was so odd to see him happy. Bucky rarely smiled these days, not that you could blame him given what he'd gone through. And now you couldn't get over how wonderfully beautiful he looked with a smile on his face.

“You owe me at least one dance.”

He offered his hand to you, and you knew you should have declined because it was a bad idea and may have long-term ramifications, but there was something about him that drew you in, even if reasoning told you to go. Your gaze darted between his outstretched hand and his boyish smile. 

“Just one dance?” 

“Just one,” he assured you, his voice smooth and soothing. “I promise.”

Your brain was shouting at you in every way conceivable, reminding you of the butterfly effect, the temporal paradox, and how just a few minutes before, you were attempting to flee to avoid any irreversible damage. 

However, you were not known for making sound decisions. 

Against your better judgment, you shut off your brain and placed your hand in his. His grip was firm as he guided you to the dance floor.

Here it goes, the third mistake of the night.

It was late when you walked into the hostel room, but Wanda was still up, perched on her bed like a mother waiting for her daughter to return from a late-night rendezvous. 

“Where have you been?” she demanded.

You bit your lower lip, a habit you developed when you were nervous. Wanda knew you like the palm of her hand, and one look at you told her something was up.

“What have you done?” Even though her voice sounded fatigued, it remained steady.

“I fucked up… again.”

Wanda raised an eyebrow, the twitch of her lips betraying a hint of empathy despite the sternness in her expression. “You know that’s not an answer, right?” she asked, sitting up straighter and folding her arms. “You’re going to have to give me more than that.”

You took a seat on the bed opposite to hers, fiddling with your hands as you struggled to find the right words to recount your evening to your friend.

His hands were on your back, with yours wrapped around his shoulders. You swayed

to the slow melody the band was playing as the soft notes filled the air.

“So, you know my name, but I don’t think I got yours.”

Giving him your real name was definitely not the most sensible idea, but at this point, you might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb.

A smile formed on his lips as he tasted your name. “It suits you perfectly. Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” 

His unabashed flirting made you chuckle. You’d heard the stories from Steve about Bucky’s amazing luck with the ladies. But now that you had that man in front of you, his hand wrapped around your waist and dancing so close to you, you could see why so many women fell for him.

He really had a game.

His gaze remained fixed on you as you continued to dance to the music. He tightened his grip on your back and leaned in to get closer to you.

“How is it that I have never seen you around before?”

“I’m just passing by,” you simply stated, not technically lying to him. You still held hope that your friends were working on a way to bring you back home.

“Does that mean I’m not gonna see you again?” His voice sounded disappointed.

You peered into his deep blue eyes and felt the warmth of his gaze pulling you in. "Well, that depends," you replied playfully, a smile teasing your lips.

"Depends on what?" He prompted, tilting his head slightly as if hoping to catch a peek of the thoughts swirling behind your eyes.

You waited a few seconds to respond, weighing your words carefully. “Depends on whether you can convince me that it’s worth seeing you again.” 

Bucky chuckled, a low, rich tone that sent shivers down your spine. "I see how it is. A challenge, huh? I like a challenge," he replied, his grip firm but gentle as he drew you in closer, his heart beating steadily against yours.

The band shifted into a new song, one with a faster tempo, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he led you around the dance floor, expertly weaving between couples.

“Oh, do you? Or do you just like collecting pretty faces for your scrapbook?”

Bucky laughed, genuinely. “If that were the case, I'd have a whole wall dedicated to you by now." His forehead almost touching yours. “But I’m more interested in the stories behind the faces. What makes you… you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you stared back at him. The world around you faded away, and for that fleeting moment in the dance hall, it was just the two of you.

“So, what’s the real reason you’re just passing through?”

The question lingered in the air, and you hesitated. “Let’s just say I’m taking a little detour from my usual routine.”

“A detour?” His eyebrows raised in playful skepticism, and he leaned in again to keep the moment private. “You mean to tell me a girl like you doesn’t have a regular hustle?”

“Sometimes life has a funny way of making you take unexpected paths,” you said, your voice steady but playful enough to deflect the question without losing his attention.

“You should stick around these paths a little longer,” he suggested. “I have a feeling, if you do, you'd find more than just a dance.”

You searched his gaze, feeling the weight of his words linger in your head. “What if I don’t?” You asked, a touch of a challenge lacing your tone.

“Then I’ll just have to make sure I make every second count.” 

He brought one of the hands that were resting on your back to your face and gently caressed your face. Cupping your jaw, he stared into your eyes, silently asking for permission to close the small distance between you. 

When you did nothing to stop him, he leaned in closer, his eyelids fluttering shut as his lips brushed against yours. Bucky's lips were warm and surprisingly soft, coaxing you into the moment. Time seemed to stand still, the music around you fading into a background hum, and it felt as though the entire world had zeroed in on just the two of you.

His fingers curled gently around the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. You couldn’t help but smile against his lips. You wanted to hold onto this memory. This version of Bucky has only known you for a few hours, yet his kiss was more meaningful than any kiss you have experienced in past relationships. It was something you hadn’t realized you craved until now, so you let yourself get lost in the kiss.

And here it goes, the fourth mistake of the night.

“What the hell!” Wanda exclaimed your name, raising her voice at you. “Do you have any idea of what you have done?”

“I couldn’t help myself.” You ran your hand through your hair and exhaled sharply. “He was just—”

“Since when do you have feelings for Bucky?”

“I don’t!”

Wanda crossed her arms, her face one of incredulity and frustration. “Really? Because it sure doesn’t sound like it, and it certainly doesn’t look like it.”

“I swear, Wanda, it was just a moment!” You threw up your hands in exasperation. “A dance, a kiss… nothing more than that!”

You were not lying. You’d scarcely spoken to the man since Steve brought him to the compound. You knew nothing about him aside from the basic information that everyone else knew.

He was quiet, reticent, and brooding most of the time, with a heaviness that appeared to follow him like a shadow. He spent the majority of his time locked in his room. And the times he finally came out, he sought to remain out of everyone's way to avoid being a burden.

Wanda stepped closer, her green eyes narrowing as she studied your face for any signs of duplicity. “You don’t just dance and kiss someone like that. Especially not Bucky! You have no idea what that might signify in the future. Messing with the timeline like that... You really outdid yourself with this one."

“I didn't mean to! I didn’t plan it!” You ran your fingers through your hair again, pacing the small room. “You think I wanted to end up here, in the past, making a fool of myself over a guy I barely know?”

“It’s not just about you,” Wanda insisted. “What if he starts to feel something for you? What if he remembers this? You might end up erasing part of his past or—”

“Or what? It’s too late to take it back now,” you interrupted. "I know I screw up alright?"

Wanda’s shoulders fell slightly as she glanced at you, frustrated but concerned. “What did you do after you kissed him?”

You hesitated, the recollection returning in a maelstrom of emotions. “We just stood there for a moment, looking at each other. It felt like time stopped still.”

Wanda lifted an eyebrow, clearly still on edge. “And then?”

“And then I panicked!” You flung your hands up again, feeling the weight of the situation fall on you. “I wasn’t sure what to say! So I just… I pulled away and ran.”

[puddinqcup]

bedroom eyes

pairing: betty x reader [reader has female genitalia]

cw: smut, tribing, shitty writing, if i missed anything lmk pls! SPOILERS if you haven’t finished with betty

a/n: who would’ve thought date everything would get me out of a huge writing slump 😵‍💫 was looking for smut of my mattress wife but there was NOTHING so i took matters into my own hands. hope you all enjoy, if im able to i do plan to write for more of the characters. wrote it on my phone too and request are welcome 🥳

after talking to everyone in the house you head upset to your bedroom, on your bed you see betty laying down with her eyes closed. she looks so comfortable and pretty it makes you blush.

“hey, lover” betty opens her eyes and holds her arms out towards you “come join me.”

you fall into her arms sinking into her soft chest while she holds you. “you’re so comfortable, you always help me get the best sleep possible.” you shyly look up to her beautiful eyes looking at you lovingly. she lets out a giggle and compliments how cute you look when you’re blushing.

betty feels the same way, before she confessed to you she couldn’t sleep at all. she wanted to tell you her feelings the day you laid down on her but she was worried you wouldn’t feel the same way, once you told her you felt the same way betty was over the moon. you two sleep together every night (you have no choice really) holding each other warmly and giving kisses all over each others face, and of course, betty loved to flirt with you.

“you’re comfortable down there?” betty asks while you deepen your face in her soft chest. you start to speak “how can i not be? other than actually being my bed you make me feel so comfortable.”

now it’s betty’s turn to blush, she loves how you make her feel. you make her feel adored and loved and needed, not like when she was in the warehouse doing nothing. “i feel the same way about you, you’re so sweet. i can’t get enough of you.” you look up at her again and she’s looking right back at you with that soft smile you fell for.

betty starts to sit up on the bed and lifts you up to straddle her thigh, she leans in and gives you a kiss on your cheek, then nose, and finally your lips. you’ve kissed her plenty of times already but no matter how many times you kiss her you feel such a warmth in your chest and stomach, and somewhere else too; and she knows it. betty places her hands on your hip and starts slowly rocking your hips back and forth against her. you let out a small moan in her mouth, your body is heating up, you start moving your hips on your own focusing on the way she flexes her thigh and moves it a tiny bit to make you feel the pleasure she knows you’re always looking for when you guys get horny.

she takes off your shirt and takes off her corset and top. your lips meet again, this time her tongue is sliding in your mouth making you moan into the kiss again. she pulls away and starts kissing down your chest while slipping her fingers on both sides of your waistband pulling them down. you remove the rest of your pants as she begins to remove her bottoms.

“i want you to take everything off, lover” betty looks at you with her seductive eyes watching as you slip your last article of clothing off. betty does the same, maintaining eye contact with you making you blush and look away under her gaze.

betty lets out a soft laugh, “no need to be shy, you’re so perfect.” betty lays down on the bed again not letting go of you, you slowly feel her pussy getting closer to yours as she moves you higher to meet her. she places you closer, you can’t help but give a slight jolt from how warm your pussy together feels. she starts moving your hips, “don’t be scared, you can move. make yourself feel good on me.”

you waste no time and start to move your hips faster, her grip tightens. she loves feeling you this close to her, feeling how wet you are just for her gives her the same pleasure. betty loves knowing she gets you like this, “look at you, look at how beautiful you look when you get like this.” you moan louder, loving the praise she gives you.

you feel your high coming soon, you keep rocking your hips, clit rubbing against hers. betty lets out a moan “fuck, keep going”

you go faster reaching your high, betty wants to make sure you cum first before she does and starts playing with your chest. the pleasure is too much, your stomach tighten and your legs getting weak you let out a breathy sigh.

“we’re not done yet, you’re not the only one cumming today” betty looks at you teasingly and grabs your hips again causing you to give a little jolt from the sensitivity. not wanting to disappoint you let her use your body to reach her climax and you try your best to rock your hips just for her. she loves how you’re still trying to please her, you grab her boobs this time; they barely fit into your hands and you love it. you pinch her nipples rolling them with your fingertips. betty lets out moan after moan, getting higher and louder as she feels herself getting closer. she moves you back and forth a few more times until her movements start staggering “oh my, fuck” betty starts but can’t finish her sentence, she looks down at you laying on chest trying to catch your breath with her tired eyes and she smiles “that felt so good.”

too tired to get up you both fell asleep naked, cuddling, and with a small smile on both of your faces.

end.

| puddinqcup | 2025 prod — do not copy, reuse, or translate anything written on this blog. — like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed :3

[star-mum]

hello lovelies, I'm finally free : D

Once again, I'll read it without checking the tags, I'm in the mood for surprises :3

"Isaac Lahey pulled you far away to somewhere secluded" we're starting with SEX !!! pwp? maybe (well not without completely cause i know you, but little plot?)

"which would soon be filled with sweaty assholes" usually it's the other way around

"11. McCall" : O

oh okay not cheating... (said dejectedly)

"his eyes flashing that glowing golden yellow" JAOAOWIAJA W AAAAHH I'VE MISSED WOLF SHENANIGANS (literally giggling and kicking my feet)

"and fuck you senseless, feeling like an overeager dog" derek is an idiot cause this FUCKING RULES !!!!!

"Your gut had shriveled up when you saw that it was one with Scott’s name and lacrosse number on it" Lydia knows EXACTLY what she's doing, don't be fooled

"if it meant that you had been misleading him or leading him on" I think he knows, yes Scott is stupid but he can smell Isaac on us afterwards

(you have no idea how much I've missed these dumb dogs and their dumb abo dynamics)

(I'm also on my ovulation period so very horny) (sorry if tmi)

(if youre not sunny and you're reading this, I am not sorry actually, you chose this)

"She was excited that the two of you would look ‘coordinated’ cheering for your ‘boyfriends’" this was calculated, don't fall for her lies !!!!

"weird spiritual sexual codependency" delicious

"All of it was to make Isaac jealous - to get some kind of a rise out of him" terrible for Scott but he'll live... not the first time this has happened to him

"feeling of his teeth digging into your neck" hihi 🫣🤭🤭

"the first small indicator of his facade cracking" he's the pathetic pussy

"Was supposed to be treasured as yours" 🥺

"knowing that those tights emphasized your thick thighs" FAT READER !!!!!!

"he slashed his claws across your chest, shredding the fabric to pieces" scared is the best way to be horny, Eleanor Shellstrop always right

"you would have been angrier about if not for the very pretty boy currently sucking on your face" sacrifices must be made...

"You have to ‘take it off’ too" please for the love of god, I am NOT fucking you in this dumbass get up, Isaac

"You act like a dumb slut all the time.” SKSKKSKS YEEEEAAAHHH (I love all your readers so much, they're so fun)

"You don’t have to be so mean" QOAJAIAKAN he is SO cute tho

"He wouldn’t take a step in any direction if it wasn’t to stand in your shadow. He didn’t worship anywhere if it wasn’t at your altar" WOWOWOWOWOWOWOW

"Owning a pet meant that sometimes you came off with a few tiny wounds" i love this so much

"cooling the salvia he had left there" this is always my favorite typo in ANY smut fic ever cause it's just proof the writer was going at the speed of light to bring the vision to life (i can fear the frantic typing)

"Get on your knees for me like a good dog" hell yeah

"more than eager to shove his face into the folds of your perfect pussy" every single guy in this show has this energy, they all eat pussy like they're starved

"There was no skill to it" but damn it if he's not giving it his all

"Behave.” “I wasn’t done.” i love them

"beyond human strength helping him to easily lift you" one of my FAVORITE things in this show

"Such a sweet little puppy. Good fucking dog" LOVE IT HERE

"the metal started to crumble beneath his fist" ‼️‼️OJNANAOAKANA HIHI 🫣

"Especially knowing that he would be able to smell that cum on you for hours" another one of my favorite things about this show :3

"Somehow, at six-foot-one, he looked so terribly small" he just has that pathetic sad vibe to him

"I’ll even get you a dog collar with my name on it so that everyone can know you’re mine" HE'D WEAR IT !!!!!!

I LOVED THIS !!! I LOVE IT HERE !!! this felt like coming home, I've missed this

seriously the ending of this semester was so fucking stressful (for a myriad of reasons) I REALLY NEEDED SOMETHING NICE LIKE THIS !!!!

The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty

If you wanna start a fight,

You better throw the first punch - make it a good one.

And if you wanna make it through the night,

You better say my name like:

The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty.

Sub!Isaac Lahey x Dom!Fem!Reader

Summary:

What you and Isaac had going on wasn't exactly public - and whatever it was didn't have a title. Sexual, friendship, two souls entwined and bound to each other in an utterly complicated way.

Whatever. It didn't have a label. The two of you didn't need one.

But Isaac definitely didn't expect to see you showing up to a lacrosse game wearing Scott's number with the name McCall boldly across your chest. All he knew from the moment he saw that stupid shirt on your chest was that the night was going to end with it shredded to pieces.

(He had no clue that was precisely your plan from the start, because you knew how to guide him exactly where you wanted him - every. Single. Time.)

Sub!Isaac Lahey x Dom!Fem!Reader. Best Friends with Benefits (Secret Relationship) to Lovers. Smut/PWP. Set during Season 3.

Word Count: 7,200

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below.

Warnings: this is primarily a smut fic - there is some slight plot; this does take place in a high school setting, but just for the sake of clarity/for the sake of argument, the characters are eighteen or older; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina and breasts (but as with all my fics, the primary pronouns used are you/yours); mention of the reader wearing a skirt;there is some descriptions of the reader being curvy/plus sized (as with many of my fics - and I always just picture Isaac with a plus sized girl) (absolutely no bias there), and there is mentions of Isaac being taller than the reader, but that is based on the assumption that at 6.1, he would be taller than most people; there is also mentions of Isaac lifting the reader due to his supernatural strength, but her back is also supported by a wall so it’s not wholly unrealistic; mentions of background Scott x reader (mostly the reader using Scott to make Isaac jealous and Scott having feelings for the reader that she does not return), and this would have been when Scott and Allison were broken up because I would not do my girl wrong like that (you can even interpret this as Scott using the reader to help ‘get over’ Allison if you want); some non-detailed mentions of the abuse Isaac received from his father (which is pretty difficult not to mention in an Isaac fic); there is some dom/sub themes - Isaac is submissive and the reader is more dominant; Isaac is jealous and possessive - very slight angst because it discusses Isaac’s jealousy coming from a place of being hurt; this is not the first time that Isaac and the reader have had sex with each other; Isaac and the reader have been best friends since before his father’s death (and his werewolfism) and they recently started having sex, and they have a murky situationship; the reader clearly knows that Isaac is a werewolf; mention of Isaac ‘pinning the reader down’ and fucking her (in a memory) (and she loved it); Isaac calls the reader a ‘slut’ and a ‘whore’ - not in a kinky way, but over the fact that he is deeply offended that she was flirting with Scott and pretending to like him; in turn, the reader calls Isaac a slut in a kinky way; the reader also calls Isaac ‘puppy’ and ‘good boy’; hair pulling - Isaac receiving; something like subspace is described (regarding what Isaac is feeling) but the word ‘subspace’ is never used during the fic; the characters do not discuss having a safe word in place, but they trust each other due to their history and know how to nonverbally balance each other’s needs; Isaac using his claws to shred a shirt that the reader wears with Scott’s numbers on it, and in the process he accidentally scratches her chest slightly (but she likes she slight pain); very slight blood kink - Isaac licks up the blood from these small cuts; I feel like there should be a warning for the endless amounts of dog imagery because I cannot stop comparing Isaac to a kicked dog because it works to well; lacrosse pads being used for slut activities; oral sex - reader receiving; Isaac has an extreme scent kink (he loves the way the reader smells); praise kink - Isaac loves being praised by the reader; penis in vagina sex; unprotected sex; (surprisingly, there’s no breeding kink in this); I think that’s actually it for this - one stray joke about the reader getting Isaac a dog dollar.

A/N: I had so much fun writing this. As soon as the request hit my inbox, I knew I was going to write it at some point. Part of me kind of feels bad that I didn't write the expected jealousy = dominance - you may notice when you read the fic, I started out writing Isaac as dominant, but I cannot help writing him as submissive, and it turned into this interesting painting of 'his dominance is a performed act, and submissiveness is his true self' and 'his jealousy is possessiveness, not dominance' and possessiveness is a very submissive trait. (I could go more into depth about this in another post, and I probably will.) People often associate possessiveness with Doms, but I see Isaac as the most possessive Sub ever because he's a wolf. Anyway - I am really happy with how this turned out, and even if it's not what the original requester intended, I think the point of a request is that the author gets to interpret it and write it in their own style. And this is definitely how I would write it most true to my style. Also this has references to Season 3 - like Lydia dating Aiden and Isaac fighting the Alpha pack, but this is set after a lacrosse game, and in S3, they were in the off season of lacrosse. and I can guarantee you my autistic ass is the only one who cares about that and you didn't even notice until I pointed it out. So please - carry on.

...

The lacrosse field of Beacon Hills High School was absolutely buzzing. 

The night air was filled with cheers as the team and many fans were celebrating another win, while the opposing team sulked in disappointment as they packed onto their bus with their heads hung low, their coach screaming at them for the loss. Chatter and celebration filled the air - but you didn’t get a single moment to be a part of it as Isaac Lahey pulled you far away to somewhere secluded. Somewhere only he could get to have you.  

He currently had you pinned up against one of the lockers in the girls’ locker room. It was a place that nobody would think to look for the two of you - a place that wouldn’t be entered for the rest of the night, unlike the boys’, which would soon be filled with sweaty assholes shedding their kits and getting a shower before they went off to some party to celebrate their victory. Isaac had locked the door to make sure that the two of you would be left alone, and left the lights off so that nobody would be suspicious of any light coming from the crack beneath the door. 

But right now, none of those details mattered. 

All that mattered was that stupid number in the middle of your chest. That stupid block lettering sitting across your perfect round breasts. 

11. McCall. 

You could claim that you had worn it as a joke. But as Isaac locked his jaw stiffly, staring you down - you didn’t think that you would be getting away with that claim. 

“Take it off.” Isaac growled at you, his eyes flashing that glowing golden yellow, a visual that made your breath tight in your chest and made your cunt quiver. 

You remembered the first time you had seen that glow coming from his eyes - the first night he had found you after he received The Bite, when he was still high on adrenaline and warned by Derek not to do anything ‘stupid’. And the stupid thing he had done was climb up the side of your house, claw in through your bedroom window with the clumsy hands he barely knew how to use, and pin you down to your bed and fuck you senseless, feeling like an overeager dog with intensely swollen balls, feeling like he was too strong and going through puberty all over again. 

It had been one of the best nights of your life. 

“What?” You said, your voice even, calm, not even close to mocking dubious. “Take what off?” 

You were faking confusion - faking it poorly, easily signaling to him that you knew exactly what he was talking about. 

It was a dare. You were egging him on purposefully. The two of you always had the best sex when you did. That’s what the whole night was about, after all. 

Lydia had gotten the shirts made - she had gotten one for herself with Aiden’s name and lacrosse number on it, and she had told you that it was cheaper to ‘order multiple at a time’, and then she had pulled out one in your size. Your gut had shriveled up when you saw that it was one with Scott’s name and lacrosse number on it. 

A plain white tee shirt in a feminine, tight fit with burgundy vinyl lettering to match the school’s colours. Lydia had ordered them in white because she said it would be easier to make into an outfit, and she didn’t want to ‘wear that god awful colour’ with her nice coats. 

You had gone on one single date with Scott. He asked you out, you said yes. It had been a pleasant, average evening that ended with a bit of kissing. It was nice - Scott was a great guy. But it definitely hadn’t been anything special. It had only driven home in your mind that you definitely didn’t have those feelings for Scott. And you felt guilty for every single time you had flirted with him in Isaac’s presence just to make Isaac jealous, if it meant that you had been misleading him or leading him on. 

A while ago, Lydia had been talking about guys, and she said something about ‘you and Scott’ and not even fully paying attention, you agreed with her. And then she cheered, and you realized that she had been talking about romantic couplings among your friend group. She thought that your flirting with Scott and the one single date meant that the two of you were dating - so she took this as a greenlight to order you the shirt. She was excited that the two of you would look ‘coordinated’ cheering for your ‘boyfriends’ in the stands. 

But more than anything, you felt awkward correcting her because you couldn’t exactly tell her about the thing that you and Isaac had going on. 

Mostly because you had no clue what to call it. 

The two of you had been best friends for years, and you had been his rock and his confidant before anybody else knew what was going on with his father. And then, shortly after he had made the grand transformation from abused introvert to powerful (hot) werewolf, the two of you had started… this. 

Some might call it ‘friends with benefits’, some might call it a weird spiritual sexual codependency that had truly begun with you patching up his wounds from the beatings his father had given him. Either way, the slight flirting of your normal friendship ramped up tenfold, and now, every single time the two of you were behind closed doors together, the intense sexual tension in the air built until you were both partially unclothed and moaning. 

And in the outside world, the two of you were constantly at war. You were constantly in the throes of a game that nobody else knew was going on. You both refused to name each other as a romantic partner, but you were constantly in some kind of effort to get the other’s attention or make the other person jealous. He flirted with Allison and Erica, and… that stupid game was the only reason you had gone on a date with Scott. It had been a relatively nice date, but you hadn’t felt a single sense of the spark with Scott that you did with Isaac. 

And it was the only reason that you were wearing the stupid shirt that Lydia had given to you. It was the only reason you had sat in the stands beside Lydia with your jacket unzipped and even taken off all night in the cold, showing off that shirt, loudly cheering for Scott, putting on a show. 

All of it was to make Isaac jealous - to get some kind of a rise out of him. 

And it had worked so damn well. Seeing his clenched jaw, his flared nostrils… seeing the way his sharp fangs extended out over his lips as if he couldn’t control them while he looked at you with hellish lust in his eyes… you were almost terrified by how well you had succeeded. Almost. 

“Take. It. Off.” He growled, grinding on each word, his chest now heaving with the effort. 

“Make me.” You mumbled in reply, entirely confident, hoping that further teasing would only wind him up more. Hoping that it would only beautifully play into your game. 

He stepped closer to you and when you instinctively took a step back, your body hit the cold metal of the lockers, and you swallowed harshly as your body pumped with more lust. It was oddly thrilling to be so trapped - only because it was Isaac. And because you knew there was only one way this could end. 

Because your body was preparing for the sensations you knew came next - the ghost of his touch already lingering on you, your mind replaying those past events like grooves in a record. It caused you to become wetter and wetter just thinking about the feeling of his teeth digging into your neck, the feeling of his hands possessively gripping your hips, the feeling of his cock splitting you open. 

His breath ghosted over your forehead, his height towering over you somehow not intimidating at all as he pressed his hard body (disappointingly still clad in lacrosse pads, keeping you from feeling the true ridges of his muscles) up against you, truly ensuring that you could not escape. Not that you would want to escape from him. 

He took a thick sniff into the air, his nostrils flaring widely, and you knew he could smell it on you - the lust, the pure attraction you felt toward him, the adrenaline. Or maybe it was just the pure smell of your pussy pathetically leaking into your underwear that he was picking up on. Either way, he let out a whine, the first small indicator of his facade cracking, and you felt his hips jolt toward you, instinctively seeking friction. 

“Why the fuck are you doing this to me?” 

Isaac growled, still trying to sound tough, the words bordering on a pained howl. There was a unique agony in his voice as he stared down the length of your body and continued to fixate on those numbers on your chest, true haunting dancing in his pretty baby blues. 

Your gut twisted horribly as you realized it. This wasn’t just something he could brush off in the name of sex. You had really hurt him this time. Perhaps you had gone too far this time. Something that had started out as a well-meaning game of cat and mouse had turned into truly taunting a wolf - and unintentionally, you had wounded that wolf. 

That wolf that, even if it was never spoken, was supposed to be yours. Was supposed to be treasured as yours. 

You had gotten so caught up in playing the stupid game that you had made a terrible mistake. 

But you needed to see it through now. 

You reached up and grabbed both sides of his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes. 

“Make me.” You repeated the words, and Isaac let out another huff. “Make me take it off, Isaac.” He replied to this with a growl from deep in his chest, a sound that vibrated through your hands on his delicate, angelic face. “Make me yours.” 

He reached up with one hand in the middle of your chest and gently pushed you back, making sure your body was stiff and firm against the metal of the lockers, propping you there like hanging art on a wall. And then he took a small step to distance himself, his eyes flickering up and down your body sharply, drinking you in even though he had seen you thousands of times before. 

It had been torture - pure torture all night. From the moment he had seen you unzip your jacket, revealing that fucking shirt with Scott’s name on it (and the fact that you had paired it with a tiny little skirt and a pair of sheer tights… knowing that those tights emphasized your thick thighs, his favourite part of your body… just to torture him…) - he had been tempted to ditch off the field completely and run up into the stands just to tear it off you. Just to prove a fucking point. 

But that hadn’t even been the worst part of it. No. One of the words parts had been the fact that he was forced to stay on the field all night listening. Over-hearing you chatting it up with Lydia and Allison about your ‘date’ with Scott, talking about kissing him, theorizing about what having sex with him might be like. You had known he was listening the whole time. You knew his hearing was enhanced enough, and you knew that he had a special knack for picking up on your voice in a crowd. You had been doing it on purpose. 

And every time he glanced over between goals and saw Scott’s name stretched across your perfect tits… it killed him a little more inside. 

While thinking about all this, while thinking about the fact that he had been waiting to do this all night - 

Isaac raised up his hand, very intentionally flaring his claws, bold enough for you to see what his next move would be so that you could anticipate it and wouldn’t be afraid. And his cock began to throb almost painfully between his legs when he saw you push your chest out, arching your back against the lockers as you licked your lips, silently begging for it. 

Clearly, you didn’t wear Scott’s name proudly. You were aching him to tear the shirt off you, downright lustful at the thought - biting your lip, batting your eyelashes at him, the scent of your lust even more potent in the air down. 

Such a beautiful fucking tease. 

With delicate precision, he slashed his claws across your chest, shredding the fabric to pieces and feeling a cathartic vindication as the name and number of another guy fell apart and began to fall off you. 

A twinge of guilt nearly ruined the moment as he saw the slightest bit of blood glinting across your perfect skin, gathering in your cleavage along your gorgeous stretch marks, but you didn’t seem to care, and you didn’t seem to be in the slightest bit of pain. In fact, you let out a purely lustful moan and arched your back even more, pushing your chest toward him more - making you look like a perfect porno in your shredded clothing with your red lace bra now revealed underneath. 

Though in a moment, you reached up, pulling the scraps of the fabric away and shucking off the useless remains of the shirt, throwing it to the ground like the garbage that it now was. In the back of your mind, you guessed that now you would have to put on your jacket  - which you had been carrying in your hand and tossed off to the side earlier, and zip it up completely to cover yourself in order to leave. But that didn’t matter now. You didn’t care if you would have to leave here in just your bra if you meant you got to have what would likely come next. 

Isaac indulged in the sound of your pretty panting, the way you licked your lips, and the perfect, accelerated thumping of your heartbeat in his ears. 

“Better.” He sighed in relief, much preferring the sight of your chest heaving, nearly bare in front of him than the visual of Scott’s fucking name plastered across you like he owned you. He never did, he never would - 

You let out another hot moan in response, and Isaac found himself licking his lips. 

While he stood there, frozen with his lust, too busy visually admiring you, you were driven forward by your maddening need. You grabbed the front of his jersey and yanked him forward into a heated kiss. It was a mouth that you knew well from experience by now, and it was only a second before the two of you were exchanging moans and a clash of tongues. 

He craned down, his hands possessively grappled for your thighs, those claws making quick work of your tights, putting runs and even huge holes in the sheer material, quickly exposing your skin to the cool air of the room. It was something you would have been angrier about if not for the very pretty boy currently sucking on your face. 

One of his hands moved to claw at the seam of your tights, but you quickly clamped your legs shut, trapping his wrist from moving any further, much to his whiny disappointment. You used your hold on the front of his jersey to push him away, and you were met with the most sweetly crestfallen expression - wide, glossy, sad eyes staring you down while he curled his lip, clearly wondering what he had done wrong. Wondering what he had done to be denied. 

“Not so fast.” You scolded him gently. “You have to ‘take it off’ too.” You told him, running your fingers down the front of his chest, more than offended by all the padding he was wearing in addition to the clothing. Far too much coverage. 

“I’m not the one who was acting like a whore.” Isaac huffed, clearly still wounded from the fact that you had worn Scott’s numbers. The word sounded strangely good on his lips, but still, you rolled your eyes. From him, it wasn’t dominance or power. It was slowly turning into bratty defiance in your little game. “I wasn’t out there shaking my ass in front of the crowd while wearing some other guy’s fucking number, acting like a dumb slut-” 

“Oh, please.” You let out a dark laugh, and Isaac swallowed thickly, knowing that you had truly arrived. After all the winding up - the main event had finally started. “You act like a dumb slut all the time.” 

Isaac let out a sharp breath at your words, loving how easily you tossed the words back at him. Something inside of him was absolutely purring at the harsh title that was now freshly branded into his skin. This was the moment that his brain began to melt between his ears, and any sense of the ‘tough guy’ act that he put on for the rest of the world was completely gone. 

From this point on, he was dissolving into the sweet puppy that only you were allowed to know. 

“Like now, for example.” You continued on, more venom lacing through your lips. You put on your most threatening voice, hating to get firm with him, but knowing it was necessary. “So you can strip down, and fucking behave yourself, or I can get dressed and go find Scott and see what fucking him would be like instead.” 

Isaac glared at you, and you saw that horrible quiver come across his lip again. Before you could worry that you had gone too far, he reached up and began pulling off his gear, and you heard a few muffled complaints as his pads hit the floor. 

“You don’t have to be so mean,” He told you, nothing more than a petulant whine at this point. 

He was ready to be compliant with you - ready to do whatever you said because he needed it just as much as you did. 

When he was shirtless, you didn’t wait for him to ditch his bottoms before you leaped into action once again. You reached out and tucked your fingers into the waistband of his shorts, hauling him toward you - and much like a loyal dog tight on a leash, he let himself be so easily pulled, even though he was much stronger than you and he could have overpowered you if he wanted to. 

But that was the glory of it. He was a statue of might, standing over six feet tall, shredded with muscles that were enhanced with supernatural strength, and yet - he wouldn’t hurt a fly without your permission. He wouldn’t take a step in any direction if it wasn’t to stand in your shadow. 

He didn’t worship anywhere if it wasn’t at your altar. 

He had sought out guidance anywhere and everywhere since his father had died - Derek, Scott, Deaton, even Erica. But he had only found sanity and solace at the palace of your lips. 

Which was why he moaned into your mouth as you kissed him again, quickly shoving your tongue past his teeth to remind him of why he was here. He belonged to you, and he shouldn’t do anything without your sacred permission. 

You got a firm grip on his hair and caused a sting across his scalp with how possessively you were holding onto him, causing pleasant tingles through his whole body as he was reminded of that lovely feeling of being held by you, being owned by you. You used the hold to force him tighter into your mouth, angling his head just the way you needed to kiss him firmer, deeper, controlling every single aspect of it - causing a sweet whimper out of him as he was guided like a puppet on a string. 

He had been the one to drag you here with a demanding, tight grip on your wrist - he had been the one to practically throw you up against the lockers in anger. He thought this whole thing had been his idea. 

But this had never been his game. 

Any tough moves he made out on the lacrosse field, any intimidation he managed with people like Stiles or the Alphas he had battled during the summer - it was all a farce. You were the only person that knew deep down, he was a puppy, just looking for guidance. At the end of the day, after everything he had been through in life - he was just looking for somewhere soft to lay his pretty head. 

Isaac let out a whine as you pulled away from the kiss to take a breath. He instantly wanted to protest, instantly began chasing your mouth. He didn’t care if he drowned in your mouth, if he died due to lack of oxygen. 

But of course, he didn’t settle for a lack of contact. 

While you combed your fingers through his hair and used the other hand to start untying the knot of his shorts, he immediately dipped his head down, seeking more of your precious skin. His neck almost became pained from the awkward angle, having to lean so far down due to his height - but he didn’t care. He dipped his head between your breasts and immediately began laving his tongue over the small cuts he had unintentionally left there. From him, it was a wordless apology, hanging his head in shame at the fact that he could ever hurt you, no matter how small, no matter how meaningless the tiny scratches were to you. 

In your mind, it didn’t matter. Owning a pet meant that sometimes you came off with a few tiny wounds. You would end up loving the scars. You let out small hiss at the sting of saliva, and then began moaning, and he was quickly driven mad by the twang of your blood on his tongue. 

“Isaac-” You moaned out hotly. 

He believed that he was a beast being fed by you, bound to devour you disastrously sooner or later - but you knew not to be afraid. He could do you no real harm. You could never truly be afraid of someone with such delicate sadness in his eyes. 

Especially not when he humped your hip like a lost puppy and whined against your skin like he had been kicked in the gut. His cock throbbed painfully inside his athletic cup, far too fucking restricted, crying out for your touch. He was grateful when you pushed down his shorts and his thin athletic pants underneath, and then took care to strip off his underwear and cup without hurting his sensitive, now very hard cock. 

“Aww, puppy.” You cooed - it was a playful pet name that you had used with him many times before, but for some reason, it practically punched him in the gut, easily forcing the air out of his lungs when he heard it. 

His responsive moan crescendoed into a harsh growl between his teeth when you reached out and grabbed his cock with a cool hand - it was an immediate contrast, his skin boiling hot with blood thumping so hard underneath, making his cock so rigid that it practically vibrated under your touch. The tip of his dick leaked furiously into your hand as you began casually pumping him, no distinct rhythm or precision in your movements, purposefully teasing him. 

“You need this, don’t you?” You purred, voice purposefully honey-sweet as you lapped up his reactions. “You need me.” 

“I need you.” Isaac panted in return without hesitation. “I need you, please.” 

You ran your thumb over the leaking slit of his cock, indulging in just how wet he was, loving how it showed his desperation, plain and clear. You also couldn’t help but to love the beautiful little whimper he let out from the back of his throat, the way his breath puffed across the exposed skin of your breasts, cooling the salvia he had left there. Your skin becoming more exposed as he reached a hand up and yanked down your bra, putting strain on the straps where they sat on your shoulders. 

“You gonna earn it?” You posed, feeling the devil on your shoulder, unable to resist. Isaac only whined in response. “Get on your knees for me like a good dog.” 

Isaac’s breath caught in his throat. 

When he had first become a werewolf and you had found out about it, you had made a good many ‘dog’ jokes about him. And he used to hate them. But over time, he had come to love the comparison because he loved being your dog. (It’s why the nickname ‘puppy’ put a warm fondness in his gut rather than making him feel humiliated.)  

He knew, at the end of the day, that it was true. He needed to be owned by you, he needed a damn leash. He was intensely loyal, despite himself. And no matter what, at the end of the day, he would always return to you, head down, looking for praise, looking to be fed - whether that was a feeding of the soul, or stupidly literal, who knows. 

Any other time, the words would have been embarrassing - it would have been something he argued against. But this time - he practically let out a bark to demonstrate his pure loyalty to you, and he rushed to follow the simple order. Even though he hated your touch leaving his cock as he dropped to his knees on the cold tiled floor (thankful that he was still wearing his knee pads where his clothing was caught in a tangle just above them), he was more than eager to serve you. He used a careful, precise claw to reach up and shred a hole in the crotch of your tights, quick to destroy your underwear as well when he found them in his way. 

“Good boy.” You easily praised him, and he found his brain once again delightfully fuzzy at the simple words. 

Your fingers were in his hair again, but he didn’t even need your touch driving him forward. He was drawn to your exposed cunt like a madman, more than eager to shove his face into the folds of your perfect pussy. He used a hand to lift your perfect plump thigh and pull it up over his shoulder, inviting you to sit some of your weight on him so that he could be closer to you, ever closer, closer. He shoved his tongue deep into your hot, wet hole and shoved his nose between your folds, unintentionally bumping against your clit, just hungry to taste and smell as much of you as he possibly could. 

“Isaac!” You moaned out, using your hold on his hair to try and keep him in place while you humped against his face, causing him to moan enthusiastically into your pussy. “Oh fuck, puppy! You’re so good.” 

The combination of the praise and the nickname was absolutely dizzying, and along with your wetness on his tongue, your smell so potent and perfect surrounding him - he felt as though he didn’t deserve something this good. But he didn’t care. He quickly became obsessed with drowning himself in you - with one hand possessively gripping your thigh beside his head and the other gripping the edge of your skirt, moaning frantically into you while he fucked his tongue in and out of you, lapping up as much of your taste as he could. 

“Oh fuck - such a sweet puppy, so good for me.” 

There was no skill to it. 

He was growing dumb between the ears, becoming more and more of the dog that you accused him of being - nothing but animal instincts and the loyal need to please you. He humped his hips into the air and his cock began leaking openly onto the floor, leaving a pathetic puddle of precum there that neither of you would notice, something that would have the janitor questioning later. 

Currently, all Isaac cared about was the taste of your pussy on his tongue, the wonderful essence of you that reminded him he was home. All he cared about was being good for you while getting a reward that he barely deserved; all he cared about was the wonderful heat of your pulsing cunt under his lips with your vibrating little button bouncing on his nose, getting to smother himself in your perfect scent. 

“Yes baby, so fucking good-” 

All of his moaning and insistent tongue-fucking meant that you were drawing close to your orgasm very quickly. 

Your thighs began to shake, your muscles jolting beside his head and he continued to lap it right up. He moaned even harder, angling his head to drive his tongue deeper into you as you became wetter, and he only basked as there was more for him to consume. You panted in harsh gasps as beautiful jolts of pleasure rang through your cunt while his tongue pierced you again, and again, and again, fucking you in the most perfectly thoughtless way. 

Your fingers dug into his scalp and he didn’t even care that you used the touch to drive him further to smothering while you rubbed your pussy across his face, smearing your wetness all over his cheeks and his chin, coating him so perfectly in your smell. He could only enjoy it as you came all over him and tipped your head back against the lockers behind you, your moans echoing against the walls like a perfect concert while the boys in the locker room across the hall were none the wiser. (The chatter of their conversations and the sound of their showers completely muting out the sound of your moans from reaching their ears.) 

“Fuck, Isaac! Oh, puppy! Such a good boy!” 

Isaac moaned at your words and his cock was downright throbbing now. 

But even though, in the back of his mind, his dick was cold in the air of the room and he wanted nothing more than to sink into your perfect pussy, he still felt a deep pang of disappointment when you used your grip on his hair to pull him away from your perfect, wet cunt. He let out a whine showing that disappointment, and fought to keep your leg on his shoulder as you moved to pull away. But still, he ultimately conceded to you when you patted his hand off your thigh and scolded him with a glare and a quiet warning of: 

“Behave.” 

“I wasn’t done.” He complained, his voice small. 

But still, he settled for licking your taste off his lips, looking up at you through his lashes from down on his knees. You combed your finger through his hair again, unable to stop yourself from admiring him, even if he was being a bit of a selfish brat. 

He was just so damn pretty. 

Porcelain skin stretched over perfect muscles, big pretty blue eyes staring up at you, his cock out and still leaking, bright red now due to being neglected by you. You couldn’t have imagined a more perfect sight. You couldn’t help but to reach down and drag your thumb through some of the lingering wetness on his chin and feed it to him - and of course, he ate it right up, sucking the digit eagerly into his mouth and moaning around it. 

“Oh? So you don’t want to fuck me then?” You posed, playing off his words with a teasing statement that easily drove him mad. 

These words quickly sparked him to action. 

He jumped up off his knees, rising to his tall height once again, somehow so unintimidating. Such a sweet little wolf. 

With your back pinned up against the lockers for support, he grabbed your legs and pulled you up off the ground, his beyond human strength helping him to easily lift you so that you could wrap your legs around his waist - and just a moment later, as his cock perfectly lined up with your soaked entrance, you easily fell onto that perfect, stiff shaft. 

He didn’t hesitate to fuck up into you. He knew you didn’t need soft and you definitely weren’t expecting it, and any sense of patience he might have had was long gone. There was no sweetness, no slowness - all that was left was his pure possessive need to be close to you and your guiding hand driving him on, encouraging him as you dug your nails into his shoulders, leaving marks that would never last with his werewolf healing. 

“Good boy.” You told him, your breath slipping away for a moment as you were reminded of just how perfectly his cock could split you open. “Fuck, Isaac.” 

He kept one hand tight on your hip and the other went above your head, hanging onto the top of the lockers, desperate to hold on to something as he felt your perfect, hot wetness gripping his cock. Following his instincts, he fucked forward, slamming his hips into you, needing to feel more, needing to be closer to your warmth - needing more of you. 

“Need you.” He panted, his head falling to press his forehead close to yours, something that felt sweetly intimate for the situation, his eyes squinted tightly as he became overwhelmed by the sensations. “Fuck - need you, need you so much.” 

“Come on, puppy.” You encouraged him. “Come on, take what you need.” 

You tightened your legs around his waist, his movements nearly threatening to buck you off as he moved his hips so wildly - sheer need absolutely tight in every muscle as thick whines poured from his lips. You were eager to soothe him, your hands running up and down his sweaty back - some of it lingering from the hard work he had done during the game and some of new from how hard he was fucking you now, lighting up all the nerve endings inside your pussy, making you feel so perfect. 

“Such a good boy.” You moaned, your breath brushing against his lips - his mouth open as he struggled for air and continued to whimper sweetly for you. “Such a sweet little puppy. Good fucking dog.” 

Isaac let out a growl, fucking into you harder, his brain pure static at this point. 

Yes - he was a good dog. He was your good dog. 

He couldn’t help it when the pleasure surged through him, the pure energy, and his grip on the lockers above your head tightened so much that the metal started to crumble beneath his fist as if it was nothing more than a piece of paper. You heard the terrible shrieking groan of the metal, but you didn’t even bother to look up - you couldn’t have taken your eyes off Isaac in those moments. You were far too enraptured by your puppy in front of you, by the nearly pained look on his face, by the feeling of his perfect cock splitting you open as he faithfully fucked up into your pussy, not stopping for even a moment. 

You brought a hand to his face, grasping his jaw between your thumb and forefinger, digging the touch in - just a twinge of pain to get his attention, a firm grip to remind him that he was yours. 

“Look at me.” You demanded, your breath hot, your voice shaking slightly as the pleasure shook your body. “Come on, puppy - look at me.” 

He forced his eyes open, eager to be good for you, eager to do as you said. He gulped air in as he continued to grip onto your hip, the locker crumbling even more into a mess as the tension in his muscles was wrought into it, forced there rather than ever be taken out on you - even unconsciously, he could never use too much force on you. 

The silken blue that looked at you was a sight so beautiful that you couldn’t bear to look away, a mess of lust and ravenous madness, a prayer of devotion to you that was far too complex for words. You gave him a small, sweet kiss on the lips that he moaned so deeply at, his hips stuttering terribly as his balls downright ached - 

“Cum for me.” You demanded, the words a firm smack against his mouth, a punch to his gut that made him cry out. “Cum for me, puppy, be a good boy, come on-” 

He let out a strangled moan that dissolved into a downright filthy whimper from the back of his throat as his hips sped up, his skin practically blurring as he was now given precious permission from you. Your cunt became utterly sore with the speed and pressure his pelvis kept hitting you with, continually pounding into you with that impossible strength, the sound resonating harshly through the room, nearly threatening to break you. 

But it was only a few breathless moments later that a moan punched through his gut and you heard something that resembled your name choked through his throat - and then he fucked into you one last time, his hips then becoming glued to yours, almost entirely still in contrast to moments before. He ground against you sharply, overstimulating your swollen clit with the stiffness of his pelvis as he seemingly tried to merge with you through persistent will alone as he pumped his cum inside of you in warm spurts. 

“Good puppy,” You hummed, continuing to run your hands up and down his back and through his hair. You kissed down his cheek and his neck and along his shoulder, praising him, soothing him, worshipping him just like he deserved while his cock throbbed inside of you. “Good boy. So fucking good for me.” 

He moaned in return, words lost to the stupidly thick tongue inside of his mouth - one that was only capable of licking up and down your neck while he humped his cock inside of you for a few more moments, enjoying your soothing words and the warmth of your pussy around him as his orgasm ebbed away. 

Unfortunately, it couldn’t last forever like that. 

You pulled him in for one last kiss - one that the two of you savoured with a moan and a dip of tongues into each other’s mouths as he pulled his cock out of you. 

(Distantly, you had a thought about how you would have to walk out of here with no underwear - because you definitely weren’t going to keep on the scraps that he had left you, gaping with remnants of his cum inside of you. And you did feel a strange sense of satisfaction in that. Especially knowing that he would be able to smell that cum on you for hours with his werewolf nose, even if you went home and changed your clothes before Lydia’s mandatory ‘Lacrosse Team Win’ celebration party - and that was enough of a reason not to take a shower and scrub the scent off.) 

He let you down and you were unsteady on your legs, much like a baby deer, still having to lean on the lockers for support while he moved to grab some toilet paper from one of the stalls to help clean you both up. 

A heavy silence fell over the two of you, unlike any other time that you had sex with Isaac. 

While you righted your clothes (prying what was left of your underwear out from underneath your tights and throwing them away, along with the scraps of the shirt that had started this all, fixing your skirt, and putting your jacket on over your bra for some coverage) - and Isaac got dressed, you wondered what would happen next. Your eyes landed on the huge dent that was now in the top of the row of lockers, and you genuinely weren’t sure if you should ask him to try and fix it, or if it would just be better to leave it like that and let people wonder. 

“Please…” 

Isaac mumbled out, his voice so quiet, raspy around the edges due to the moaning he had just done. When you whipped your head toward him, he worked up the courage to finish the sentence. 

“Please… don’t talk about Scott anymore.” 

You stared at him, puzzled, as he put on his jersey (his pads still left on the floor, seeing as he didn’t need them anymore). Clearly, his mind had been on a completely different track. He was staring you down with those sad, glassy eyes once again, and you felt a terrible twinge of guilt tighten in your gut. 

You knew that he was the jealous type. That was why you had done all this. But you couldn’t go on being his secret fling, his secret fuck. His perfect confidant with no public title. 

So you prodded that wound one last time. 

“Why not?” You asked, risking it all. 

You would either leave this losing your best friend, the best sex of your life, and the person you loved most in the whole world - or you would leave this as a whole, better person. 

Isaac swallowed, and bowed his head, unable to look you in the eyes. Somehow, at six-foot-one, he looked so terribly small. He might not be able to do this. He might be too broken to live up to it. But you hoped, you prayed that he would - 

“Because I-” He shuddered, verging on tears. And somehow, he was able to get the words out. “Because I’m in love with you.” 

Everything inside of you lit up. More perfect than any orgasm, better than the feeling of his cock inside of you - this was what you had been missing the whole time. 

“And look, I understand that you might have just been playing around,” He continued, his words having a terrible meaning - acknowledging your game in wearing Scott’s numbers, and voicing his insecurities in your relationship, believing that you had been unserious with him because you had never loved him at all. “But it kills me to see you with other guys. I can’t-” 

You stepped forward, using a hand on the side of his jaw to pull him into another kiss. In a moment, he understood the passion, the warmth - something that went far beyond sexual needs. The way you guided him because you knew exactly what he needed. The unspoken connection the two of you always had that now needed those words. 

“Isaac, you should know I love you too.” You told him. “That I’ve been in love with you - since forever.” 

He let out a tense breath of relief. 

“I won’t talk about anyone else like that, or flirt with anyone, or anything along those lines, if that’s what you want.” You assured him. “You are mine, and I’m yours. Okay, pup?” 

He flushed at the nickname, and nodded, and you smiled brightly. 

“I’ll even get you a dog collar with my name on it so that everyone can know you’re mine.” You said - your tone was distinctly joking, but you didn’t miss the way he bit his lip, and the lustful light that grew in his eyes. 

“Shut up.” He laughed, shaking his head. 

(He definitely wouldn’t end up masturbating to thoughts of that later. Definitely not.)

...

Please keep in mind, there will not be a continuation or a 'part 2'. This is a oneshot, meaning that it is a complete story on its own and I do not feel the need to continue it. If you comment asking for a Part 2 or asking for a continuation after I have written this ending message, I consider that to be extremely rude and unkind.

If you are going to comment, please comment about the content of the fic that has been written. I love discussing the characters that I write about with other people in the comments and connecting with fellow fans. I work very hard on my fics and I always appreciate comments, but I do not appreciate when people only comment asking for more rather than wanting to discuss what I have already worked hard on.

Even if you don't comment, I hope you enjoyed, and if you want more from me because you enjoyed this fanfic a lot, you should definitely check out my Teen Wolf Masterlist, which has a lot of similar fics!

Happy Reading,

Sunny ☀️

[dollerin]

Hii !! Can I request some mingi bf headcanons?

🌺: yesss ofc !! here you go <3 (these are very random but I hope u like them anyway)

BOYFRIEND!MINGI HEADCANONS ᢉ𐭩 .

𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖 x f. reader romance fluff physical touch 𝑝𝑒𝑡𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝗐𝖼. none ─── 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑒

mingi is such a lovely boyfriend like I can’t explain it, he’s just so… princess.

he absolutely loves to use your body as a pillow any chance he gets

loves to come home from the studio, or running errands and flop on top of you like he’s smaller than you or something..

mingi loves to see your bare face. nothing cliche or anything, but it’s something about your face with no makeup on, or freshly washed skin (even if it’s not) that makes him fall in love all over again

he always does this thing where he cradles your face in his hands like you’re the most delicate thing on earth, and will just admire you with stars in his eyes

your voice is one of his favorite things ever. he might sample it for a song if you let him

he likes to lay on your thighs a lot, he thinks they’re warm and plump. better than his pillow

smiles any time you walk into the room, no joke.

sometimes, he likes to bear hug you so that you’re buried in his chest, and he’s just towering over you, arms wrapped around you. especially if you’re grocery shopping or standing in line, waiting to get food.

kisses you any time he leaves the room. he’s getting a drink? he kisses your cheek. he has to pee? he’s kissing your forehead and running off to the bathroom.

he likes to share earbuds/airpods with you and has a wholeeee playlist dedicated to just you.

has matching hats and shoes with you (literally whole couple fits)

you guys really don’t argue like that but if you do, it’s probably something small

loves to surprise you with cute little items, whether it’s a small charm bracelet, or some type of souvenir he brought home from tour

[lovelake]

JUST PATHETIC AT THIS POINT

In which you ask your stalker (Kylar) to milk you after weeks of getting no relief

m!kylar x gn!reader | mdni, 2.2k wc, lactation (bovine tf!reader), nipple play, dry humping, stalking, kylar has kidnapped reader before (references to his abduction event), implied/referenced sexual assault

note: i love this freak

read on ao3

Translucent white—your bathwater was no longer clear. Frequent puffs of breath managed to fog up the mirror. Your hands were too tired to continue, but your chest was still full to the point it was downright painful.

How long have you been here for? Your room was out of the question when it came to doing this since it would make too much of a mess. This way, you could just watch it all go down the drain and be left squeaky clean.

You couldn’t go on like this, you needed relief. You were desperate.

So desperate, that your mind went to the person who would usually be the last solution to your problems. Surely, he would be more than eager to please.

Yeah, the classmate you’ve pushed away time and time again. The guy whose manor you escaped from—and who you should probably have a restraining order against by now (not like those would even be maintained in a town like this).

Kylar.

You reach for the drain to let the water start going down and get out the tub to dry up and get dressed. If you let the idea marinate, you would throw it in the trash.

I can’t believe I’m actually doing this, you think to yourself when you finally exit.

“Hey, stop hogging up the restroom! This is the third time this week!”

“Shit, sorry.” You cast your orphan hall mate an apologetic smile. “Won’t happen again.”

It probably will happen again.

You never thought you’d be willingly walking to Kylar’s place, but here you were. You kicked at rocks as you walked, ignoring the occasional catcalls thrown your way—your thoughts silenced them.

Fuck Remy. Fuck his goons. Fuck Harper. Bless the centaurs—they were the only ones you wished prosperity upon, but they weren’t enough to make you want to return.

Oh, but the imagery of lush green hills and cloudless skies called out to your soul. The dribbles of sweetness that rolled down your chin from the occasional apples you chose not to share remained unrivaled. Headpats and praises were handed to you every time you were good.

No!

You shook your head and tried not to fall for the deception that was forcibly drilled into your head. Collar. Riding crop. Hypnosis. Shadows looming over you when you woke up. It was terrible.

Danube street was cleaner than the one you lived on, and just a tad bit safer (not much at all, though). The houses were nicer to look at despite the envy that built up inside you. Eventually, you find a worn down path and make your way toward the forest.

His parents must be really rich. Last time you hadn’t had the time to pay attention to just how big the manor was, you were too busy escaping to care.

It gave you the creeps—it looked like it could be the main setting in a horror movie.

You heard the rustling of nearby bushes. Seconds later, you heard a series of doors slam shut. Looking up, you saw a curtain sway before quickly falling back into place.

Ah. Looks like Kylar had been stalking you as you walked to his place. Frankly, you weren’t in the mood to lecture him.

He left the front door open, what a gentleman—you didn’t even have to knock. You let yourself in, nearly tripping over some vines on the floor.

“Jesus…”

Finding his room wasn’t hard at all, not with the fast-paced footsteps you heard above you to your left. Each stair creaked as you went up, you held onto the railing just in case.

He visibly flinched when his door swung open, reclining back on his desktop chair and trying to act normal—like his hair wasn’t ruffled with leaves on top of it, like he wasn’t out of breath from trying to beat you to his room.

“Sorry for the mess…I wasn’t expecting company.”

You weren’t really here for small talk though.

“Kylar…I need you to help me.” You walk up to him and tug at his hoodie, leading him off his chair and to his bed. You didn’t have to pull him strongly at all, he was always ready to be dragged around by you like a doll whenever you pleased.

“What?! Now?” He stopped listening after the first four words. Had you forgiven him for betraying your trust? Were you coming to your senses and realizing that you belonged with him?

Kylar obediently sat on his bed, dick already hard as you straddled his lap. He almost felt like running because of the long-awaited anticipation—he wanted to touch you, badly. And you came here willingly.

He started rambling. “W-What positions do you like? Do you want me to put on some music? I have some lube in my drawer! If you’re still mad at me you can put a leash on me or use my knife!”

“What?” Oh. Right. You straddled him, this gave him the wrong idea. “Nonono, I meant something…else.”

Disappointed flashed across his face, but he nodded, not wanting to upset you anymore than he already had in the past months. This was progress, maybe you’d start liking him.

Fuck. You didn’t really think about how you’d actually bring it up. You felt a bit embarrassed for some reason—which is ridiculous considering that this guy is fucked up in the head for you.

“I um…I need you to milk me.” You tell him, voice quiet.

His face flushed, he blinked a couple times as he processed what you said. Your horns and fluffy ears had his attention, back and forth. He then felt something swish against his thighs—your tail.

“So…they’re actually real? I always thought you were just cosplaying or something.”

“Don’t act so surprised, I’m sure you already caught on by now anyway.” How could he be unaware when he practically knew everything about you through creepy methods?

“I-I…” He looks down at his sheets, idly picking at them. “I didn’t know about this, I swear.”

Ever since you got rid of the owl plushie in your room, he had been watching you directly from your window. But he had never noticed your predicament, because unbeknownst to him, you’d only been milking yourself in the restroom.

“Is that why…” He murmured to himself, thinking of the shirts he had stolen from you and how some occasionally carried a sweet smell (that didn’t align with any of your fragrances—he would know). “Never mind.”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes or no?” He copied your question out of confusion, head cocked to the side.

God, he was cute despite everything he’d subjected you to and it pissed you off.

“Will you help me?”

“Yes!” The answer slipped out naturally and all too eagerly—he was visibly shaking with excitement.

Fabric rustled, you started taking your top off.

He averted his eyes and gulped—he would drool otherwise.

“Now you’re too shy to look?” You ask with a scoff. “You didn’t seem to care when you had me naked and chained up.”

He squeaks in response, wide eyes flitting to yours before softening and trailing down to your chest. Your nipples were hard—his were too underneath his shirt, but solely from arousal unlike yours.

“A-Are you still mad at me?” His voice trembled, he didn’t want you to be upset. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I am,” you admitted quietly. “I can’t forgive you. Maybe you can start redeeming yourself, though.”

He nodded, willing to do anything for you to no longer ignore his existence. Things had been somewhat okay before he kidnapped you—you’d talk to him at lunch sometimes and would approach him at the park.

Everything would go back to normal eventually, right?

He took a deep breath before placing his hands on your chest. The warmth of your skin transferred to him and lit his face up in flames.

“Like this?” Milk started to trickle once he tweaked your nipples between his forefingers and thumbs.

“You can add more pressure,” you tell him, able to feel that he was holding back—maybe from the fear of hurting you (which was ironic for reasons you wouldn’t bring up again).

“Okay.”

This isn’t weird at all, you internally repeated that like a mantra. You shut your eyes, not wanting to see the blush on his face or the look of worship in his intense gaze.

“I was thinking breast pumps could help.” You voiced your thoughts, wanting to detach from what was actually happening—the tingling feeling building inside you wasn’t helping. “But um…I don’t like the doctor at the hospital.”

“Mm,” he was listening, but was more transfixed on the way your milk rolled down your stomach. Kylar’s mouth watered, he had half the mind to dip his head down and lick you clean.

“Was thinking maybe Sirris would have something to help, but his store isn’t open yet and I’m too ashamed to ask if he’s gotten any packages.”

Your breathing gradually grew heavier. You were turned on, much to your demise. How could you not be when your nipples were getting tugged at and pinched? Plus, it was really hard to ignore the bulge pressed up against your right inner thigh.

Don’t open your eyes, don’t open your eyes, don’t open your eyes.

But you did—and they were met with the sight of Kylar’s bottom lip tucked between his teeth, he was drooling a little regardless. When he noticed you staring, he let go.

“Can I use my mouth?” His words were slurred together.

God, yes. You weren’t thinking properly. You nodded, cradling the back of his head and pressing his face close to your chest.

His tongue flicked against your nipple before he latched onto it to provide actual suction. Your other one didn’t go neglected and was still being played with by his fingers. Pleased whimpers filled the room, mostly from him as he drank greedily from you.

“That feels good…” Your lower abdomen was heating up.

“Mmph,” Kylar liked the praise—now sucking at you with renewed determination. Somewhere along the way, his hips started rutting up against yours.

“It’s…” He pulled away with a pop and took a deep breath, “sweet.”

He positioned himself in front of your other nipple to give it the same treatment. How would he ever go back to drinking regular milk after this? Yours was addictive like candy, the taste would linger in his dreams for the rest of his life. He lost count of how many times he’s gulped.

You felt some relief for the first time in weeks, your chest was less heavy. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling on it gently. Your hips started moving too. Clouds, you were in the clouds. It didn’t matter that you were panting erratically and moaning from the touch of your stalker and were close to cumming and—

“Ow, teeth!”

“S-Sorry!” Kylar yelped, pulling away immediately and checking up on you, tears brimming at the edge of his eyes from concern. “I didn’t mean to, are you okay? I got carried away.”

You shouldn’t want to, but you really wanted to kiss him. Glazed eyes, messy chin from fluids, the dick rubbing up against you. Fuck, the need was making you lose yourself.

Your lips smashed against his—you could taste your milk.

Kylar pawed at you, hands running up and down your sides before reaching back to cup your ass. Kisses aren’t meant to be quiet by any means, but he was really kicking it up a notch by whimpering loudly into your mouth.

“I-I’m gonna…”

“Me too.”

You tried to match the pace of his hips but it was no use, he was unpredictable, the two of you were an uncoordinated mess. There was nothing sensual about it, just pure desire. The friction sent sparks flying everywhere until you saw stars.

Shockwaves of pleasure left you writhing in his arms, you held onto him tight, nails digging into his shoulders—he moaned even louder from the rough treatment. The top of his shirt was soaked from the leakage of your milk (he was never going to wash this shirt ever again).

He felt like jelly. His body fell back but he managed to keep himself upright with his forearms until you toppled over him and pushed him flat on his back.

An ache formed in his chest, Kylar was fully prepared for you to immediately get off and leave.

But you didn’t. You snuggled closer to him instead. Your horns gently rubbed against his right shoulder over and over again.

Heavy breathing filled the room for a minute before he hesitantly raised his hand to stroke the back of your head. “How did this happen to you?”

Silence was your answer. He frowned but didn’t push it—he figured it had something to do with that one week where you’d gone missing.

“I’ll kill whoever did this one day,” he whispered to you, planting a kiss against one of your ears.

You shivered, was that supposed to be romantic?

“Thanks for helping me with this.” Forgiveness still wasn’t in store for him, but you were still grateful. “I should go.”

He held onto your arm as you got up, staring at you pleadingly—but you could recognize the glint of obsession seeping through, Kylar wouldn’t be leaving you alone anytime soon after this.

“I’ll be back. Probably.”

He didn’t let go.

“Fuck…next week?”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

[esotericcangel]

MANCHILD ♡ R.CAMERON

˙ ̟ ೕ !! manchild!rafe x bitchy!reader ꣑୧

— IN WHICH you’re fed up with rafe’s bullshit.

WARNINGS/TAGS: asshole/loser rafe, consumption of alcohol and drugs, language. reader putting rafe in his place!

AUTHORS NOTE: part of @zyafics MRGA campaign! hope you guys like it ♡

RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST ♡ WANT TO JOIN MY TAGLIST?

stupid. or is it.. slow? maybe it’s useless? but there’s a cuter word for it, i know.

manchild. rafe cameron was the worlds biggest manchild.

born and bred into a life of riches, the boy never faced anything worse than daddy issues, and god, did it show. you’d be in an on and off relationship with rafe for months now—a will they won’t they sort of situation.

you knew what everyone was thinking when they watched you. who will be the first to break?

and unfortunately for rafe, you weren’t a fucking pushover. you wouldn’t let him continue manipulate you, to try and get a reaction out of you. you wouldn’t satisfy his useless needs just because he couldn’t get what he wanted from his father as a child. validation.

music blared through speakers, the smell of expensive perfume and liquor permeating through the atmosphere. one rafe knew well. one he thrived in. and for him, it was like second nature. the drinking, the games.. the manipulation.

he was four shots in, mind a little hazy, dulled, but in that nice way, the way where his muscles felt looser and his brain stopped spinning for a second. he had a girl in his lap, his glossed lips mouthing at his neck, his large hand engulfing her waist. that’s how he liked his women. soft and docile, so eager to please.

but you were anything but what rafe cameron liked. and maybe that’s what drew him to you in the first place. how opinionated you were. how you didn’t take bullshit from anyone, much less him.

and in the corner of the room, where you chose to reside away from the main hustle of the party you really didn’t care for anyway, you were seething. not because you were jealous, no. but because somehow, rafe had managed to manipulate you. time and time again, he’d reassure you when you were suspicious of his actions— ‘baby, you’re the only one i want’, ‘you know she means nothing to me’. god, you were only even here because he’d invited you!

you’d been there for rafe through everything—his daddy issues, his addiction. you were a fool to think you were an exception. and truthfully, you knew you weren’t. but it was nice, even if it was for a fraction of a second, to feel like you meant something. even if it was to an overgrown child. a manchild.

you pushed past sweaty bodies and drunken women, trying hard not to slap the next person that stood in your way—and soon enough you were standing in front of rafe. rafe, and his girl of the night. and you didn’t hesitate.

your fingers wrapped around the first cup you found, and you ignored the ‘hey!’ from the guy you’d yanked it from—and you threw it.

“what the fuck?!” rafe cursed, abruptly standing, the girl who was once on his lap letting out a shriek of her own.

“the fucks your problem, huh?” he shouted at you, cerulean eyes shaking with anger, his body angled toward you like he was about to fall of the deep end.

you did something about it before he could.

a sickening crack sounded through the room—almost loud enough to compete with the music. and rafe’s cheek, once occupied with kiss marks from the lips of that girl, now held a red hand print.

“are you having fun, rafe? having fun with the ‘girls who don’t matter’? huh?” you mocked, your own eyes icy, narrowed and fixated on him in a way that made him feel exposed. rafe almost ever felt exposed.

he could only hold your gaze, unspeaking, and doing nothing, while all his friends and peers gawked at the scene. and while he felt utterly humiliated, for once, he didn’t do anything about it.

“hope she keeps your dick warm, and your heart beating for the night, rafe. because god knows no one could love you enough to do it unconditionally. especially not me.” a malicious smile spread on your lips. mirthless, but satisfied.

and then you were gone, walking, disappearing into the crowd as if you were never even there.

© 𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 please refrain from copying, translating or claiming my work as yours .ᐟ

🏷️: @winnie1emon @drewswife @urcoolgf @angvl3tears @browniepop62 @angel06babysworld

[mustyrosewater]

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐊𝐘 - 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗

𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4,660

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: returning to the small wyoming town you were raised after a sharp fall from grace, your music career having turned into mindless pop you were forced to churn out by your manager and now ex, a return to home is just what you need, the perfect place to take a break from the life of a pop star, and also to meet some old faces.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, tension, pullout couches being uncomfortable, arguments, vomiting.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hello my sweeties, the slightest bit shorter with this chapter, but I make for it by giving you all some delicious rhett content, as well as leading up to the next chapter. i really hope you guys enjoy it and I'm so glad you're all loving this series so much!

Silence for an almost fifteen minute drive was certainly a great way to soak in tension.

Not that there was really a whole lot you could have said in this situation to fix it anyway, every time you’d even spared a glance over at Rhett, his single hand on the steering wheel was gripping so tight his knuckles were almost white, his eye’s focused on the road ahead of him, but you could still see how clearly unhappy he was with the predicament.

Part of you felt bad, kicking yourself for being so stupid as to allow yourself to get stranded and now be stuck in a truck with a person who’d been nothing but horrible to you.

The other part of you, however, was whole heartedly of the opinion which consisted of ‘fuck him, why shouldn’t he help you out? Least he could do after being such a massive dick.’

That was the part of you that seemed to be the one getting you in trouble more often than not.

When you finally made it to his house, not a word was exchanged as you both got out of the truck. Only you helplessly trailing behind Rhett as he approached his front door, keys jingling in his hand for a few moments before he pushed the door open.

It was a small house, but it was my no means unlivable, a lamp turned on as he passed it revealing more detail, a small kitchen and bathroom, one bedroom seperated in a different room, all topped off a small living area, couch and tv set up.

It was clearly a bachelor pad of sorts built for one man and one man only.

“Can you shut my goddamn door, please?”

His comment made you snap out of your trance, jumping slightly as you realised you hadn’t even stepped inside completely yet, just stood there holding your jacket like an idiot.

Shutting the door behind you, you let out a huff as you took a few steps in, placing your purse and jacket on his small dining table, hearing the bedroom light turn on as he ventured in, shutting the door enough to shield the room from view, but open enough so that a thin stream of light was still poking out.

Turning your back, you pulled the stetson off of your head and put it on the table next to your other items, taking another moment to trace your eyes all over your surroundings.

A sink stacked up with dishes made your nose curl slightly, not bearing to think about how long they’d been neglected for; the couch very clearly being a bit aged, but once again, you were in position to be picky.

The bedroom door creaking behind you made your head turn, revealing a now much more comfortably dressed Rhett, slightly worn and oversized shirt now covering him, along with what you could only assume was the boxers he’d been wearing underneath his jeans. 

Once again speaking not a word to you, he moved across the room as if you didn’t exist, pulling at the couch cushions till they came apart to reveal a thin mattress laid a top of the pull out base.

“Lemme just get a blanket.” 

His voice reeked of indifference, like he was just thinking out loud, disappearing back into the bedroom and coming back out only within a few seconds carrying a single pillow and a thick blanket with a pair of wolves printed on it, not unlike something from your childhood.

Laying it out as neatly as he cared to manage, he ventured into his kitchen, opening the fridge and rummaging around, looking thoroughly disappointed in his options. 

He was silent as he clinked around in the kitchen, letting you take a moment to yourself to unbuckle the belt around your waist, realising you’d likely have to peel off your jeans for any hope of a semi comfortable sleep, making a note to yourself to not do that until Rhett had retired for the night. 

It was pretty obvious that your presence was making absolutely no difference to his nightly routine, barely a roadblock for Rhett Abbott the depressing end to his night.

Taking a seat on the pull out mattress, you took advantage of the phone charger than had been left plugged in next to the couch, placing your phone on charge and setting it next to you on the floor.

“You gonna need anything before i turn in?”

You hadn’t heard him walk up behind you, turning your head where from the awkward angle of you practically sprawled over the pull out couch putting your phone down on the other side.

Righting yourself, you shook your head, trying to remain as polite as possible, considering the fact that he’d been more than capable of letting you freeze in the parking lot.

With a bowel in his hand of you had no idea what, he stood there staring at you for a moment before nodding his head, turning to retire into his room for the night.

“Rhett.” you spoke, watching him freeze in place and turn to you with a quirked brow, seemingly confused as to why you just told him you didn’t need anything and had changed your mind in the span of seconds.

“You um, you were really good tonight.”

Why you said that, you had no clue, maybe you were just trying to be extra certain he wasn’t going to change his mind by throwing in a compliment.

All it did was seem to confuse him more, his brow furrowing as he pulled his gaze away from you for a moment before looking once more.

“Thanks.”

You had no clue if that was a genuine thank you or if he just had no idea how to respond; but either way, it was the last you saw of him, watching him retire into his room and shut the door behind him.

You could still see his lamp on through the crack in the bottom of the door, for some reason unable to tear your eyes away from it, your head swirling with images of what he was doing in there. 

As you stood, you were silently thankful that you’d opted for boy shorts as your underwear of choice, a tad bit more covering than other options, but barely so.

Getting under the blanket and laying your head on the pillow, you were unable to stop staring at that thin line of light at his door, waiting for what felt like hours before you heard some shuffling and was suddenly bathed in complete darkness. 

Shutting your eyes, you tried to relax and try to forget who’s house you were in, who’s couch you were on, maybe that would offset some of the awkwardness of this entire situation. 

You could only hope.

-

Somehow you’d managed to capture sleep in your clutches, seemingly having had a satisfying four or five hours at the very least.

The sun was shining through the curtains when you opened your eyes, half your face pressed against the pillow as you realised you’d rolled onto your stomach in your sleep.

For a few seconds, you’d completely forgotten where you were, taking a moment to observe your surroundings before the memories of last night came flooding back in. 

Reaching for your phone suddenly, you opened it to see about two or three missed calls from your father at about six in the morning, dread filling your stomach as you let out a small sigh and readied yourself to call him and explain where you were.

“I already called your dad.”

As if he was turning into a habit, Rhetts voice behind you made you turn suddenly with a gasp, spotting him leaned against his kitchen counter with a coffee in hand, already dressed. 

Trying not to think about how long he’d been moving up and about while you were still snoring away on his pull out couch, you sat up and let the blanket keep your lower half covered.

“He’s okay?”

You were more concerned about him being upset at you for disappearing once again, but to a certain degree, you didn’t really have a choice considering the circumstances.

“S’fine. Just worried about you, says he had a few too many at poker night and passed out on his friends couch.”

He took a sip of his coffee as he finished his sentence, eyes never leaving where you were sat, always watching over the brim of his mug.

Nodding your head, you shrugged softly, that wasn’t exactly out of character for him. At least he got to have a fun night with his friends.

“Thank you, for calling him.” 

Your thanks was only answered with another nod, Rhett taking the final sip of his coffee before he left the mug on his counter, crossing his arms and walking over to his bedroom door.

Stepping inside, you could hear him moving things around, soon emerging with that same duffel bag over his shoulder. 

“I gotta get out to my dad’s place, I can drop you off on the way.”

Now it was your turn to nod, looking back at him and sharing a long silence as you both stared at each other, your eyes narrowing as you waited for him to be polite and step out of the room so that you could get back into your jeans.

“Do you mind?” you asked, holding up the jeans that were waiting for you, watching as his eyes widened slightly, realising his mistake.

“Shit, sorry.” 

As you watched him disappear back into his bedroom and half shut the door, you stood from the pullout couch and tried to wriggle into your jeans as quickly as you could manage, almost tripping and eating shit only once. 

“You’re good.” you call out, reaching out for the belt you left on the table, hearing Rhett’s bedroom door open just as you’re weaving the belt through the loops in your jeans, doing the buckle up and turning to look at him.

For a split second you can have sworn he’d been staring while you put your belt on, but you brushed it aside to grab your stetson and jacket, holding both as you hung your bag over your shoulder, placing your phone inside.

With a nod, Rhett approached his front door, opening it and stepping to the side, holding it open for you so you exit, locking it behind him when you were both back outside.

Getting into his truck and taking off, the ride was just the same as it was the night before, silent.

The drive to your fathers house was slightly longer one, so there was only so long before one of you had to break the silence, it was just a toss up to see who would give in first.

“I don’t hate you.”

That one had obviously been bubbling for a while, cause when the words left Rhett’s lips, it sounded like he’d been desperately trying to force them out.

Your head turned, confusion clear on your features as you leaned forward in your seat slightly.

“Huh?”

“I don’t hate you.”

He repeated the words a bit slower and clearer as if you didn’t speak english, seemingly annoyed he had to force the sentence out.

“I don’t like you, doesn’t mean i hate you.”

You opened your mouth to say something, wanted to delve deeper into exactly why he’d come to gather this opinion of you, but just as you were about to question him, you felt an overwhelming wave of nausea come over you, your hand flying to your mouth.

“Fuck. Stop the truck.”

Your tone seemed to convey the seriousness of the situation, Rhett’s hand’s coming to the wheel and spinning it to a hard left, the sound of smooth road transitioning into rocky gravel, only able to hear him letting out a few curses.

The very second the truck came to a stop, you’d unbuckled your belt, pulling at the door handle so hard you were worried it could pop right off at any second.

Finally coming flying out of the door, you were only able to force yourself to take a few steps before your knees hit the dirt, bile rising out of your throat, your eyes watering.

You were too focused on throwing up to hear his door open and close, not paying any attention to the sound of his footsteps as he jogged around his truck to where you were.

Coughing up the last of it, you tried to steady your heaving breaths, focus on your surroundings so that you could get the fuck up and stop chuck your guts up in front of Rhett.

“Christ, are you okay?”

His voice broke you from your trance, head turning to see the slight of standing about a meter and a half away, brows furrowed in a mix of concern, and just overall unpleasantness at the sight before him.

“Yep.” you spoke, not surprised at all, already aware of the cause of your sudden vomiting “Gimme a minute.”  

Rising from your knee’s you spat onto the dirt ground, wiping your mouth of the saliva across your chin and turning to look back at him, gathering yourself and brushing the dirt off of your jeans before heading back for the truck, opening the door and sitting yourself back inside.

Seemingly confused, Rhett took a moment before walking back over to his own side, getting in and shutting his door, not doing anything else, just looking at you, his stare in the corner of your eye.

“What.” you questioned, turning to look at him.

“Mind telling me what that just was?” 

He phrased the question as if it was obvious, why you’d just made him nearly draw the both off of you veering off the road, only to promptly get out of his truck, spew, and get back in.

“It’s nothing, I just didn’t take my meds last night.”

Your response didn’t fix his expression, only shaking his head as he turned to turn the key in his ignition, the truck roaring to life.

“You didn’t think that was important information to tell me last night?”

By the sound of his words he was genuinely upset, whether for the inconvenience or for making him see that in the first place, you weren’t entirely sure.

You had no clue why he was so annoyed, you were the one that had just thrown up in the dirt, it was of no consequence to him whether or not you’d taken your medication.

“Didn’t think your pa would think im asshole for refusing to drive you back? When you’re on medication?” 

Furrowing your brows, you shook your head in disbelief, shrugging your shoulders. Once again, Rhett just seemed to love picking a fight with you, as if you couldn’t do anything right and he was just itching for an excuse to talk down to you.

“I’m not gonna fuckin’ die if i don’t take my meds, Abbott. If my dad was pissed at you, you’d know.”

Shaking his head, Rhett seemed to mutter something to himself that you couldn’t hear, only able to make out the soft “Fuckin’ ridiculous.” he spoke under his breath. 

Scoffing, you crossed your arms and looked out the window, choosing silence as the sound of choice for the remaining eight minutes of the drive to your fathers house.

Any small amount of civility you tapped into last night was gone all over again, the pair of you were back to seething silently, the occasional huff or annoyed sigh being the only words exchanged.

Finally arriving back at your home, you’d expected Rhett to drive off as soon as you’d exited, expected to hear the sound of him peeling off as you soon as you turned your back.

But just as you went to close the door, his voice rang out, leaning down to see you through the passenger side of the truck.

“You gonna be okay?”

The words felt like he had to force them out, like he was going against his nature, but he did it anyway, his brows furrowed in a way that expressed annoyance, yet his eyes had hints of concern.

Looking down at your phone, you checked the time, you knew your father wasn’t going to be back yet, at least not for another hour or so.

You really didn’t want to share any details, you hadn’t planned for him to know even the smallest amount about all of your medication, you hadn’t told a single person out and clear that you were even in rehab, not that you needed to, it was of the assumption that everybody knew.

“Technically i’m supposed to have someone supervise me.”

“What for?”

His question had you hesitant to respond, not actually realising how grim it sounded until you had to actually say it out loud.

“In case I go into shock.”

His face certainly made it clear that he was surprised at how casually you had said that.

“But i’m sure i’ll be ok, it’s fine, really.”

As his eye’s squinted, he looked back at the steering wheel for a brief second, seemingly contemplating once again, thoughts flowing in his mind that you were not privy to.

Without another word, he opened his truck door and stepped out, shutting the door behind him and walking around to where you were standing.

“If something happens and your dad finds out I left you here alone, he’ll kill me.” 

Opening your mouth to protest, you couldn’t manage to get any words out before he had already walked past you and began heading up the small set of stairs to your porch.

“Rhett, im serious, i’ll be perfectly fi-”

The look he gave you told you all you needed to know, he wasn’t going to leave any room for negotiation, he wasn’t going to budge, and it would be wise to try any further.

“I’m just gonna- you know what, fine. Whatever.”

Speeding up and passing him so you could swing open the door, you stomped to the kitchen, disappearing around the corner and opening up the cabinet where you kept all of your medication, a small sea of yellow bottles with white lids overtaking you.

Laying them on the counter, you could see Rhett in the corner of your eye, standing on the other side of the kitchen island watching you intently, saying nothing but watching everything.

Just as it was during the truck ride, silence was the only conversation held between the pair of you, only the occasional annoyed look you sent his way when you turned to grab a glass of water.

Taking each pill was something you’d gotten used to, roughly about five pills for the morning, depending on how you were feeling, and six at night. 

Taking into account what you’d missed last night, you adjusted the number and took them silently, keeping your eyes on the kitchen window, looking out into the field to avoid looking over at the stubborn cowboy who stared at you like you were going to combust.

Which of course was more than enough to piss you off within about five seconds.

“Do you even know what you’re looking for?” you snapped, turning to face him and resting your hands on the counter.

“Like, do you even know what the signs of shock are?”

Opening his mouth to say something, his face showing that you were clearly right, you continued to talk before he could say anything.

“Cause I can tell you right now, you staring me down like im a wild animal isn’t helping.” 

“Jesus christ, you really can’t accept any help at all, can you?”

His voice was slightly raised, his head shaking as he looked at you in wide-eyed disbelief.

“Just like always, god forbid I even breathe around you, and you’re jumping down my throat!”

The words he threw at you were only stirring you on further, a laugh leaving your throat as you shook your head and turned around where you were standing, hands landing on your hips as you spared a glance at the kitchen window once more before looking back at him.

“You’re inability to take any form of accountability continues to astonish me, even since we were in high school, everything is everybody else’s fault, never Rhett Abbott's. No. That’d just be crazy.”

You held a hand up as you spoke, your anger bubbling as you took a breath, trying to calm yourself, running a hand over your face and sighing.

“I don’t even know what the fuck I did to you, honestly.” you paused, turning over to look at him, a hint of softness having now taken over your features. “All i know is one day, out of nowhere, you just started hated my goddamn guts.” 

There was something on Rhetts face when you said that, some unreadable expression crawling it’s way over his features, like he knew exactly what you were talking about and didn’t want to admit it, didn’t wanna acknowledge the way he’d done you wrong.

“You ruined my graduation dance, Rhett.” 

The ache in your voice almost seemed like it had caused him physical pain, the way he stood there, panting from his yelling, just staring at you. 

As he opened his mouth to say something, nothing came out, like he couldn’t decide who he was angry with. Like he couldn’t tell where he was meant to direct it towards.

“Fuck this.” was all he uttered out, turning to walk towards the front door.

You didn’t say a single word as he walked out, some part of you preparing yourself to hear the door slam, memories of the fights with your ex coming to mind.

There were so many things you’d always used to argue about, money, contracts. Yet never about anything that actually pertained to your wellbeing, every argument you’d ever had with him had always been spurred by some sort of change you wanted to make career-wise.

Silence wasn’t what you expected, looking up to see that he’d simply walked, hadn’t slammed the door as a show of anger, simply left it swinging softly in the wind.

You could hear his truck start up, waiting till it grew quieter and quieter until it completely disappeared until you walked over to shut the door.

Left with more questions than answers, you decided that Rhett Abbott was simply a mindfield that you wanted to steer clear of, unpredictable and untempered, something you did not need. 

-

Over the course of the next few days, you’d managed to find yourself out and about with your father more often, helping him out when you went shopping, even occasionally venturing to town by yourself, buying things you needed, even just window shopping.

The very same boutique you’d found yourself in on the first day back in Wyoming had seemed to be your choice for today, finding that looking around, occasionally running your hand over a pair of jeans, was a small bit of therapy that helped detrimentally.

Even just chatting to Niki had been a way to feel normal again, even if your snapchat’s flirtiness had seemed to get a little bit lighter, there was still a comforting feeling whenever you received messages from him.

Getting lost in your own thoughts had always been something you did, so it made sense that you hadn’t noticed the presence behind you, not until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Immediately, you were confused, turning to look at who had tapped you, the woman seeming to be a stranger at first, a grin plastered over her face.

“Hey, you!”

When she spoke as if she knew you, your brows furrowed, as far as you could recall, she didn’t seem familiar, at least not for the first few seconds that you stared at her face.

As you replaced the blonde head of hair on her head with a dark auburn in your mind, removed the glasses, your brows rose as you finally realised just who it was standing in front of you.

“Montana.” you breathed, suddenly feeling rude for not recognising her at first, though you couldn’t exactly be blamed for that.

Montana had been an interesting one in high school. Not a bully, at least not in the classic sense, but there were certain comments made, times you’d walk past her and her friends only to hear a chorus of giggles and whispers. Things that made you feel like you were going insane.

“The one and only.” she laughed, smiling at you so brightly you’d never in a million years think she was the same girl who used to give you judging looks when it was time to present in class, the same girl who’d give the occasional compliment that couldn’t feel anything but backhanded.

Realising that you’d only been staring across at her like an idiot, you gathered yourself, smiling hesitantly.

“Right. How- how are you?”

“Oh y’know, same old, same old. Lookin’ after the kids, workin’.” 

You nodded along as she spoke, drilling on about her kids, the school teacher she didn’t get along with, allowing her to fill you in on her life as you could do nothing but sit there and listen to her speak, seeming to find no break in the conversation to politely leave.

“But anyway, why i came over here.” she laughed, already revealing openly that there was already a motive in approaching you. “Me and a few girlfriends were gonna go have a bit of a girls night tomorrow? Dinner, some nice gossip. We were thinkin’ you should come!”

Questionable, you weren’t really sure how to respond. In high school, the chance to be invited into her little circle of friends would have been an opportunity you leaped at with open arms, a chance to be accepted as part of her group.

“I’m not sur,e Montana, I have-”

“Oh come on! Far as i’ve heard, you’ve just been cooped up in the house.”

There it was again, conversation that felt like an interrogation, words very purposefully chosen to beat you down ever so lightly, without being obvious.

“You gotta go and have some fun!”

It would have been so easy to just say no, to politely decline and tell her that you just didn’t want to hang out with her and her friends; Yet somewhere deep inside you, there was a sixteen-year-old girl that still desperately wanted to be accepted and liked.

“Alright.” you surrendered, watching her satisfactorily raise her hands, shimmying her shoulders excitedly.

“Amazing! We’ll be meeting at that steak place down the street, bout 8, that work for you?”

You could recall where she met, remembering that you’d passed it more than a few times during your time in town, nodding as you spoke.

“Okay, yeah. That sounds.. That sounds nice.”

She smiled at you once more, taking a hand in yours.

“Im so excited.”

With that final sentence, she turned and began to walk off, calling out a “See you there!” as she exited the clothing shop, the bell ringing behind her. 

You weren’t even sure yourself why you’d said yes, assuring yourself that it’d be good to hang out with someone other than your father, to be in the presence of some other women, and hopefully even have a nice time.

While you weren’t necessarily a fan of small town gossip, it would have been a lie if you’d said you weren’t even the littlest bit interested in the goings-on’s of everyone in this small town, to hear what had become of all of your old classmates.

There was definitely something about the idea of simply being a young woman out with friends that was drawing you in, the promise of normality.

As you exited the store with a smile on your face, beginning to mull over what you might wear, you allowed the anticipation to take over completely.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @foreverchangingmind . @tsukikyo . @marsupialnoises . @iknowrocknroll . @astromilku . @dragoste-lunes . @articel1967 . @jonnybernthalslover . @chili4prez . @cosm-0-nauts . @its-just-me-rin . @cultof-saints . @amazingishlivy .