#Haunted tote bags

[thesatanicpeterpan]

The Blair Witch Project

Small Accessory Canvas Bag with Resin Tooth on Twine Attached to Zipper Pull

https://www.etsy.com/shop/Hellion81

[nico-di-genova]

My friend just tried to buy a Max Verstappen cut out from Walmart for me by GRABBING the cut out and walking cardboard Max to the nearest employee. Like, max tucked under her arm, tote bag and ashwagandha in the other, AirPods in because she’s on the phone with me.

My friend: can I buy this for my friend? It’s almost their birthday and they’re a big fan.

Walmart employee:…um…(goes on radio to speak with manager) hey, can we get rid of Max?

Walmart employees on first name basis with Max Verstappen because the cardboard cut out version of him is haunting them.

“How long does he have to stand there?” They ask like he’s clocked in for his shift.

Anyway, they said no because legally he belongs to “someone else” (Red Bull merchandisers) but if Red Bull doesn’t take him back I’m free to claim him :).

[donatellawritings]

cherry - should be ripe - r. jerimovich

pairing(s): richie jerimovich x f!reader

warning(s): language, prescribed drug-use, age-gap

song: coming down by the weeknd

The gloomy skies, filled with heaps of troublesome rain brought a dull grey hue of light into your apartment as you whisked the thin curtains in your living room apart. The thin straps of your tote bag digging into your shoulder as you allowed the overfilled bag to rest on the glass surface of your dining table. It had been almost twenty-four hours since you’d last spoken to Richie. Almost twenty-four hours since you his raspy voice and dry tone haunted the depths of your mind. Almost twenty-four hours since you’d clung to every minute detail you could, of the older man, and you brought yourself to ecstasy.

The abrupt shrill of the alarm blaring through the speaker of your phone hastily broke you from your thoughts as you glanced at the time: 3:15PM. Rushing to silence the alarm, you placed your cellphone onto the dining table, a low sigh leaving your lips as you rummaged through your tote bag, pushing your fingers past your laptop and textbooks, sifting to the bottom of the bag, before your fingers grabbed ahold of your pill bottle.

As much as you hated it, you knew that you needed these pills. Your bouts with anxiety and depression left you a shell of yourself, a worrisome mess who couldn’t stop herself from fling as if the world was about to cave in. Your movement towards the refrigerator being purely muscle memory and fluid as you swiftly placed the pill into your mouth, flushing it down your throat within seconds. You need this - you can despise it, but you need it.

“Fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, leaving the pill bottle to sit on the glass table as you glanced at the time once more.

It was now 3:17PM, and you couldn’t help but wonder about Richie. Did he like you? Was he busy at work? Was he thinking about you? Did he also resort to using the memory of your voice to bring him to an orgasmic bliss? God, you could only imagine how pathetic you’d look if he knew - if anyone knew of your lustful tryst.

Maybe you should text him, let him know that you were thinking of him … or would that be too much, too soon?

Sliding your phone into the back pocket of your jeans, you made your way to the bathroom, stopping still before your mirror as you too in your appearance. Your hair was slick and smooth, courtesy of the hair salon that sat around the corner of your apartment, your tired eyes lined with black eyeliner, lips tinted from the faded lipstick that you applied earlier that morning.

A part of you ached with anticipation as you allowed your mind to wander, once more.

What would Richie think, if he happened to see you in this very moment?

Biting your lip, you’d decided that you would text him, maybe tease him and remind the older man that last night was real, that you were real.

-

i’m still real btw

Richie exhaled out a smoke laced laugh as he read over your message. The small cigarette held between Richie’s long fingers secured in place as he leaned against the brick wall of the restaurant. Richie carefully tapped the small bunch of ashes off of the tip of his cigarette. He hadn’t stopped thinking about you. In fact, he found himself to be a bit calmer in the usually hostile environment of The Bear, his usually noisy psyche now just a bit quieter as it became preoccupied with the thought of you.

Richie ran his calloused hand over his shaven face, clearing his throat as he typed his reply back to you, before sliding his phone into the pocket of his black slacks.

good to know. last night felt like a fucking dream

Pushing himself off of the wall, Richie grabbed the suit jacket that hung over his shoulder, sliding his arms through the sleeves as he shrugged the jacket so sit comfortably over his body. The sound of the back door creaking caused the blue eyed man to glance over, a smile now tugging on his lips as he watched Tina, one of his most endeared coworkers exit the building.

“You heading out, T?” Richie called out, approaching the older woman as he pressed his cheek to hers with a kiss.

Tina warmly cupped her hand to Richie’s cheek, before pulling away with a huff, “Yeah, I have to go see my niece today, but you did good today, papa,” she consoled.

Richie opened his mouth to speak, the vibration of his phone hitting his leg as straightened his back, giving all of his attention to the woman before him.

“Shit, okay, uh - y’need a ride?” Richie offered, his fingers working to button the center of his ironed suit jacket.

Tina paused, pondering for a few seconds, before shaking her head with a thankful smile, “I should be good, Richie - thank you,” she politely declined.

“You sure?”

Tina laughs, proceeding to walk away from Richie, “I will see you tomorrow, Jeff.”

Richie watches closely as Tina walks away, a second vibration hitting his thigh causing his eyes to widen as he slid his hand into his pocket, “fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

it did. do you have time to it again tonight?

will have to be later though … i’m having company over :)

A small pang of jealous hit Richie’s chest, but was quickly diminished with a shake of his head. You’re not his, he barely fuckin’ knew you, not yet, at least. He really shouldn’t give a fuck who you have at your apartment, but there was still a small part of Richie that itched to know if it was another guy. Surely, you weren’t dumb enough to openly tell Richie about your plans, if it involved another man, but fuck, the dating scene these days was pretty brutal.

Richie hastily typed his response, the ounce of chill that he held onto throughout the duration of the day now dissipating as he stuffed his phone into his pocket, before entering the building and allowing the door to slam shut behind him.

have fun.

-

A swirl of anxiety ran rampant in your stomach as you read over Richie’s message - did you say something wrong? Your top set of teeth gnawed at the skin of your bottom lip as you rushed to respond. Maybe Richie wasn’t upset, maybe you were just overthinking those two words and adding a value to them that simply didn’t exist.

Deciding to leave the situation alone, you distracted yourself. Placing your headphones over your ears, you raised the volume to its maximum setting, before tidying random areas of your small apartment, despite it already being close to spotless. Whether it be shifting a random vase to sit at a different angle, or smoothing your hand over the pillows that decorated your hand-me-down sofa, you distracted yourself as much as you could.

So, you gave yourself two more tasks: make some coffee and change your clothes. Grabbing saucepan and a canister of Café Bustelo from your kitchen cabinet, you prepared the coffee, allowing the water to come to a boil before mixing in the coffee grounds. The strong scent of coffee filled your apartment as you made your way to your bedroom, quickly swapping out your jeans and long sleeve for a tank top and leggings that hugged your curves just right.

The sound of the front door unlocking jolted you as you ran your fingers through your hair, “give me one second!” You shouted, quickly spraying yourself with the nearest bottle of perfume that sat on your vanity.

“It smells good in here, mamita!” Your aunt called out from the living room, the jingle of her keys hitting your coffee table like music to your ears.

You quickly rushed out of your bedroom, the sight of the short, curly-haired woman whom you’ve been blessed to have as your guardian angel aunt bringing a smile to your lips. Tina's eyes widened with pride as her bright brown eyes took in your matured appearance - you hadn’t seen each other in about six months, six months that felt like six years.

Pulling you into a hug with a hum of joy, Tina pressed a kiss to your cheek, her eyes glazed with happiness as she pulled away slightly, giving herself another chance to take you in, “You look so good, mama, wow!” Your aunt cooed.

Wordlessly, you nodded, before pulling your aunt in for one more hug, “I missed you, titi.”

The two of you held each other for a beat, before Tina pulled away, setting her coat down onto the sofa, before making her way into the kitchen, “Café Bustelo? Somebody’s been following her aunt’s footsteps,” she teased.

“Of course, titi,” you smiled.

Tina grabbed two mugs from your dish rack, carefully pouring each of you a steaming cup of the pure caffeine. A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as she nodded towards your dining table, setting the two mugs down side by side as you both took your respective seats.

You silently thanked your aunt with a nod, before bringing the hot mug to your lips, taking short sip of the steaming coffee, watching as Tina’s eyes fell on the pill bottle that remained on the dining table.

Tina pauses, setting her mug onto the table, “Everything’s okay?” She questioned.

“Yeah, everything’s okay.” You sighed.

-

Richie’s day went to shit, the moment he re-entered the renovated building. Maybe it was the fact that the measly three hours of sleep that he’d gotten had caught up with him, or, perhaps it was the fact that he’d given too much of a fuck about what a girl he hadn’t even met in person yet was doing at her apartment. Truth be told, it was both, but Richie would never admit to it - he had too much pride.

Now, Richie stood in front of the mirror in his dimly lit bathroom, his eyes low and jaw clenched as he aimlessly kept his eyes on the reflection before him. He needed sleep and he knew that better than anyone, his bloodshot eyes hung low while he stared, his mind teetering back and forth with whether or not he should give you the benefit of the doubt.

And so, he did. Deciding to break the tension, Richie reached for his phone, sending you a peace offering message.

-

The company of your aunt was much needed, you didn’t remember the last time you laughed this much, or even felt one-hundred percent safe. The two of you were currently recovering from a fit of uncontrollable laughter, thanks to an exaggerated recounting of a childhood memory, courtesy of Tina. Just as the two of you steadied you breathing, the hum of your cellphone vibrating against the dining table caused the both of you to glance at your phone.

You opened your mouth to speak, a blush creeping to your cheeks as you slid your phone towards you, Tina decides to push, “anyone special?”

You lick over your suddenly dry lips with a forced laugh, “uh, I’m not sure.”

Tina leans forward, cradling your face in her warm hands, “promise me that you’ll be careful, okay?” She spoke, her voice stern, yet still loving.

“I promise-”

“No, I mean it, querida. Don’t let any of these guys fuck with your heart, okay? You’re too good for that,” She continued, her eyes pleading with yours.

“I promise.” You confirm, more to yourself than to your aunt.

“Good,” she pulls away, standing from the table as she collects her coat from the couch, “well, I’m going to leave you to have some alone time,” Tina returns to you, pressing her lips to the top of your head.

“I love you, thank you for coming,” you mutter, a wave of sadness crashing over you as your aunt pulls away and makes her way towards the front door.

“I love you too, I’ll be back in a few days, okay mamita?” She calls out, blowing a kiss to you, “make sure to lock up!”

And with that, the front door closed shut, you walked towards the door, ensuring it was properly locked before making your way back to the dining table. A stray tear managed to slip down your cheek as you let out a shaky breath.

“Ugh, don’t cry,” you scolded yourself, wiping your tears with the sides of your index fingers as you reached for your phone.

didn’t meant to be such a fuckin dick

i’ll be awake if u wanna talk

-

Richie stood at his window, watching as random cop cars blared their sirens down the street. Dressed in a Chicago Bulls jersey and black track pants, Richie adjusted his gold chain to sit comfortably over his chest. It had been about ten minutes since he texted you, his mind wracking with theories on who it was you were seeing and what is was that you were doing when the blare of his ringtone brought him out of his thoughts.

Fuck, he didn’t realize you’d actually call him, let alone this fast.

Suddenly wound up with anticipation, Richie accepted your call, biting back the smile that threatened to pull on his face, once you came into view. You looked so fuckin’ pretty.

Richie remained silent, taking note of the smudged makeup that stained your eyes just right, the way that your previously curly hair from the night before had been straightened, he also noticed that your eyes were puffy, silently praying that he wasn’t the reason for your tears.

It was Richie who decided to speak first, “I, uh, I’m sorry about earlier,” he began, leaning against the window sill, “I barely fuckin’ slept and I just-”

“I couldn’t sleep, either.” Your voice cut in.

Shit, Richie could melt right where he stood. He’d give anything to hear your voice for hours on end. Richie was a greedy fuck, and he knew that, yet he just needed to hear more from you - he craved it.

“You couldn’t?” He questioned.

With a short nod, you answered, “yeah, I mean, it just took a lot for me to actually fall asleep, y’know?” You stammered nervously, leaving Richie to wonder what it actually took for you to go to sleep, and if it was the same thing that rewarded him with those three hours of rest.

“Sorry to hear that, sweetheart.”

-

Sweetheart. The way the word rolled off of Richie’s hellish tongue with was smooth and silky, it inched its way towards your core. You couldn’t help but smile at the simple, yet earnest choice of wording.

You noticed Richie’s eyes, their bloodshot state more intense than the previous night, yet you decided to change the subject, “I really hope that I didn’t make you upset earlier, I didn’t mean t-”

Richie huffed, “nah, I was just being a fuckin’ jagoff, please don’t even worry yourself about that, alright?”

You remained quiet.

Richie shifts the camera, clearing his throat, “why don’t you tell me about your day, yeah? I see your hair looks different.”

Richie searched for anything, anything to break you away from that newfound wall of shyness that you had, guarding yourself from him.

You were still miles away, the usually comfortable loneliness that filled your home, now suddenly becoming a bit too apparent to you, following your visit from your aunt.

Yet, you answered the blue eyed man, “I got my hair done today, thank you for noticing.” You smiled softly, not wanting to scare Richie off with your sudden influx of emotions.

-

Richie felt like shit, a total fuckin’ jagoff. In his mind, he was the reason for your quietness - he got overzealous, too greedy. He didn’t mean to push you away - he’s just played the game too many times, hell, he was married once and that failed, so could you blame him for his romance woes?

“Well, listen, I’m sorry, alright?” Richie began, “I’m pretty good at fuckin’ things up and I don’t want to do that with you-“

“Richie, I am not mad at you,” you quickly interjected, “it’s just - today has been a lot, and I guess it just caught up with me.”

Thank fucking god, Richie lets out breath that he wasn’t even aware that he was holding in.

“But, tell me about you, I want to hear about your day.” You asked, inching a bit closer to the camera.

“I dropped my daughter off at school this morning, then I was at the fuckin’ restaurant all day which was a fuckin’ mess - seemed like I’m the only one who keeps shit together at that fuckin’ place,” Richie rambled, completely lost in his on words that he didn’t even realize that you’d moved to your bed.

-

You’d grown fond of Richie’s voice - it was raw, his tone rough and blunt as he spoke every word with conviction. Hearing him drone on and on about his series of events lulled you into a peaceful trance as you blankly stared at the camera, half-awake.

It wasn’t until your eyelids grew heavy that Richie’s voice caused your eyes to open fully.

“You should get some sleep, sweetheart, I could talk to you to death some other time,” Richie teased, you’d assumed he’d made his way to his own bed by the sudden change of scenery.

“No, I’m awake, I promise,” you argued.

Richie shook his head, “and I’ll be around when you wake up and feel like talking again, I promise.”

As you both voiced your farewells for the night, you couldn’t help but smile as you gazed up at the ceiling of your bedroom, endlessly hoping that Richie would keep his promise. It was as of this very moment that you knew that it would only be a matter of time before your need for him wouldn’t be fulfilled by mere phone calls, but by physical touch.

-

Richie couldn’t help but smile, silently thanking the dark environment of his bedroom for concealing his slip-up, “this fuckin’ girl,” he exhaled, allowing his eyes to flutter close.

He needed more of you. Fuck that, he ached for more of you - he’s a 45 year old man who knows what he wants and you’re slowly becoming more apparent in those plans. He had no time to waste, despite today’s minor setback - Richie had turned over a new leaf and was working on doing better being better for the restaurant. Slowly working on being more present for his daughter - and being less of a bitter jagoff to those he cared about most.

So that settled things into finality, for Richie. He needed to see you, to see if you’d be any different. in a face-to-face proximity. The thought of asking you on a date terrified him, his previous unsuccessful attempts now ringing in the back of his mind as he unlocked his phone.

Richie rushed to call you once again - quickly glancing at the time on his alarm clock: 9:23PM, Richie raised his phone to his ear, allowing it to ring, before he could pussy-out.

-

The shrill of your ringtone filled your ears, ripping you out of your light sleep as looked at your phone screen through squinted eyes - it was Richie.

Accepting the call, you brought your phone to your ear, “hi, Richie,” you spoke, your voice raspy from your short lap of rest.

“Hi, I know you’re sleeping, but, uh, I just wanted to ask you somethin’,” Richie huffed.

“Okay.”

“Okay, uh, I was thinking that maybe I could take you out to dinner one of these days,” Richie, began, his nervous stammers bringing a smile to your face, “y’know it doesn’t have to be too fancy, unless you’re into that, fuck, uh-”

With a laugh, you interrupted, “I’d love to go out for dinner, Richie.”

“Okay, yeah, yeah- uh, how about Friday?” He questioned, facepalming himself on the other side of the phone.

“Friday works for me.”

“Alright, I’ll pick you up, just send me your, uh, your address and we’ll sort the rest out … tomorrow?”

“Yes, Richie.” You agreed, your stomach flipping with an anxious excitement as you licked over your lips.

The two of you exchanged a round of awkward nervous goodbyes before you hung up for the night. It would be four days from now. Four days until you’d stand in the same room as Richie, breathe in the same air as him. Four days until you’d see whether or not your chemistry would exceed the confines of your cellphones.

The excitement was tantalizing, the slight fear that bit at you just adding the to delicious wave of anticipation that washed over you.

Four days. Four days and you would have all of the answers you’d need to see if it would be worth it to keep this affair going. Lord knows, you wanted it to keep going. Maybe you were just as greedy as the older man with tired blue eyes that had come to plague your mind.

You’d just wished that those four days would come and go fast enough.

-

that’s it for part 2 of this series - sorry if its a bit long, i was just really excited to explore the characters a bit just to give them some background lol <3 thank you for the much appreciated support on part 1, i can’t wait to publish part 3!

[fic-over-cannon]

A Pocketful of Sunshine

For @jasonsmirrorball my beloved (based on this, and building on this characterization)

ao3 link

He doesn’t tell you outright, but you’ve gotten good at reading the secret language of Jason Todd. You notice the thickness of his sweaters, his tendency to wear many layers, the way his boots are functional and warm. You take note of how his apartment is always a few degrees warmer than comfortable. Yet his hands when you hold them are always cool to the touch. On sunny days when you’re closer to a puddle of sweat than a person, his touch remains strangely cool. How sometimes you’ll go days without seeing him after a snap cold spell, Jason unwilling to explain and you reluctant to press. Your worry after returning late one night to find him staring out the darkened window, your routine kiss hello like pressing your lips to ice, something about it stirring him out of his statue state. The only thing you can conclude is that something about the cold haunts him. But something about the warmth will bring him back to you.

So you find a way to carry warmth with you. You take to carrying little hand warmers in your pockets. Stashes of them squirreled away in handbags, around the apartment, even in a small box in the closet. A reflective shock blanket, folded down to the size of a notepad, is always in your tote bag. You gift him lined leather gloves just in time for winter. A new heating pack finds a home next to the microwave. You’ll compliment his sweaters, envious over how cosy they look. Whenever you’re out together, more often than not you’ll wrap your scarf around him at the first sign of a shiver. It gets to the point that you joke about learning to knit so he’ll have his own scarf. The look of wonder in his eyes at opening a handmade scarf for Christmas spreads a different kind of warmth in your chest. (The way he starts calling you ‘sunshine’, leads to a different kind of heat)

It becomes a routine for you both. Slipping hand warmers into his palms when his grip becomes too icy. Tucking extras into the pockets of his jacket, a just in case measure. Getting used to the pile of blankets in your shared bed. Ridiculous matching fuzzy socks for afternoons reading together on the couch. On nights when his eyes go unseeing, wrapping his arms around a gently warmed heating pad. Every time he comes back to you, the warmth in his eyes is everything. You’ll never enjoy when he sticks his cold feet against your shins, but he’ll laugh when you grumble and that’s enough.

Jason starts to reach out more than he hides away. When the first signs of cold start pressing in, he’ll come to you. Ask where the heating pack is, or if you’ve seen his scarf. He knows perfectly well where everything is in the apartment, but it’s his way of letting you know he’s not all right. It’s an imperfect system, there’s still misunderstandings and petty fights, but it’s a start. You know now that whatever dark place the cold drives him to, he’ll always come back to you.

So you’ll be patient, slipping him hand warmers and wrapping him up, until the day he’ll tell you why. You trust that one day he’ll find the words to tell you about the places his mind traps him in, why the cold affects him so. But for now you’ll keep each other warm and that love will be enough.

[kayleerowena]

🏚 every house is haunted shirts are back! 🏚

show the ghosts in your house you love them with 3 ink color options, a billion shirt color options, and tote bags too on my brand new bonfire shop! (reblogs appreciated to spread the word! 💖)

[the-spicy-release-of-death]

Drama Studies

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x reader, Cregan Stark x reader, Helaena Targaryen x reader (best friend), Aegon Targaryen x reader (platonic) Rhaena Targaryen x reader (platonic), Baela Targaryen (platonic) 

Tropes: Jealousy, mutual pining, alternate universe (modern university setting), She/her reader

Summary: Y/n always had a crush on Aemond. Her close friendship with Helaena stopped her from crossing the fine line of friendship with Aemond, who silently returns her feelings.

Previous part: Film Studies

“Don’t forget our discussion on The Portrait of the Mad King next week!” The professor's voice was muffled by the sound of students gathering their belongings. 

Helaena, sitting beside you, unmuted her phone and began to type something on the screen. You collected your things and secured them in your tote bag as your friend began to do the same.

“Aegon’s phone is on ‘do not disturb’… he’s probably locked in a broom closet with Floris-”

“-good for him-” You interjected, shooting her a wink. 

“-but Aemond is at our usual table by the field,” Helaena added as you both stood up, her eyes searching for yours intently.

Avoiding her gaze, you shifted your attention to the students leaving the auditorium, following along the waves of movement. A blush rose to your cheeks at the mention of Aemond. 

You were screwed.

That morning, you had stirred awake at the breaking of dawn in Aemond’s arms on the couch. You must have passed out during the movie. Helaena and Aegon were nowhere to be seen; they had most likely moved to their respective rooms. Once your brain registered whose chest you were using as a pillow, you held your breath, eyes widening.

Your heartbeat drummed within your chest, into your veins; you felt its numbing beat all throughout your body. Aemond slept peacefully, arms around you tightly. His scent, his warmth, his allure… he, in his entirety, was divine. Oh, how you wished to stay, retreat to his unknowing and awaiting arms! Your stare twisted pitifully in longing.

You were truly screwed.

Your arm slowly raised with the intent of caressing Aemond’s cheek with your fingers. You halted mere millimeters from his flesh, your consciousness finally catching on to your movements to pull back into a clenched fist against your chest. 

Your throat strained as your eyes parted from Aemond’s sleeping form dejectedly. A shaky sigh escaped your lips, knowing deep down, this would never happen again. You tore yourself from Aemond’s unconscious grasp, a movement that felt wrong, painfully tearing your heart apart. You collected your things and snuck out of the Targaryen’s penthouse. You shot Helaena a quick text and went home. You showered, washing away Aemond’s haunting scent from your skin, cleansing yourself from thoughts of him.

You were truly, royally, screwed.

Helaena hadn’t brought the previous night up – apart from her still-braided hair, which was proof that last night wasn’t some edible enhanced dream. 

Your tote bag handles rested comfortably against your shoulder as you stepped out of class, the blond woman hot on your trails. Your flared pants accentuated your curves swaying down the hall. 

“And what about Bae and Rhae?” You inquired, knowing full well that she kept tabs on everyone in her family. You already knew the other guys would be at baseball practice. It was Wednesday.

“They skipped their classes today to study for their midterm tomorrow.”

“Ah, makes sense,” You commented, shooting her a smile. 

The two of you made your way through the throngs of students in the halls, finding a sweet escape in the fresh air outside. As you walked along the baseball field, you pulled open your tote bag searching for your phone. Finding said item, you raise your gaze mere seconds before colliding into a large muscular figure. 

“Y/n, careful!” Helaena’s intervention came too late.

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry-” You paused, your eyes meeting a familiar face. “Cregan!”

The man held on to you, steadying your faltering frame. You patted his chest with a playful wink as he let go of you to adjust your scarf around your neck. You blushed under his soft attention to detail. 

“Hey Y/n!” He smiled, his gaze briefly shifting to Helaena who stared at him disapprovingly, her arms crossed over her chest. “Hey, Hel!”

“Hey yourself.”

“Nice braids!”

Helaena’s face softened, her head nodding towards you.

“I owe it all to my best friend.”

“Yeah I saw everyone’s Instagram stories…” Cregan trailed off, his eyes falling back upon you. “You should do me.”

You released a snicker at the teasing tone, your hand playfully reaching out to touch his own locks of dark hair. “And tame your beautiful curls?”

Across the path, Aemond seethed as he watched you flirt with Cregan effortlessly, as if you hadn’t fallen asleep in his arms the previous night. His jealousy deafened him to Alys’ non-stop chatter about their assignment. Absentmindedly, he nodded along to her words; his eye narrowed on the developing scene. His heart raced as he watched you blush at his rival’s words and charm. 

Helaena, saving the day, poked at you with her elbow nodding towards your usual spot. You nodded at her before shooting Cregan a brief wink, walking off with Helaena with entangled arms. As you and your best friend neared the table, you fell back, your eyes finding Alys all over Aemond. 

Breath hitching, you faltered in your steps, Helaena looking back at you in confusion. You inhaled deeply and continued walking as if nothing was wrong. Afterall, in your two years of friendship with Helaena and by extent Aemond, the man hadn’t given any explicit sign he held an interest in you. Besides - you shook yourself together as you and Helaena approached - he was your best friend’s brother. 

Some lines were not to be crossed.

“You got any plans tonight?” Aemond asked the woman at his side, who shook her head eagerly, as if in relief. “Perfect then. Six O’clock.”

You gulped as you registered the conversation you were walking in on. Helaena’s gaze snaps back to you at the subtle sound. Just as your gaze dropped to the ground, the sounds of the baseballers laughing pulled your attention. Your eyes were downcast as you placed your tote bag on the table, excusing yourself momentarily. Helaena’s eyes widened in realization, her bewildered gaze shifting from you to her brother, then back to you.

Some lines were not to be crossed, you repeated to yourself. It was pointless, you were already so profoundly in love. Moving on was a necessary evil, you reminded yourself, as you retreated towards the baseball field.

Helaena growled in annoyance, as she turned to her brother and Alys. The latter was leaving for a meeting with her wicca club. 

“I’ll see you at 6 for the assignment.” She slid out of her seat, shooting Helaena a quick nod.

The blond woman stared at her brother quietly as he watched bitterly you walk off in Cregan’s direction.

“What’s up with that?” Aemond asked through gritted teeth. Helaena rolled her eyes and slammed her vegan leather bag on the table.

“We have a problem.”

“I can see that. Let me guess. You caused it?”

Helaena slapped him over the head, refusing to take the blame in this situation.

“No, you fool!” Helaena’s eyes darted to you as your hands rose to the fence, your fingers gripping on as you called over to Cregan. “You caused it.”

“Me? What the hell did I do?” Aemond’s brows furrowed confusedly.

“Nothing.” She replied in frustration, taking in a deep breath. “That’s the whole problem.”

“So, I caused a problem by doing nothing?” 

“Yes! Ugh, wait.” Helaena rubbed her temples in annoyance as she took a deep breath. “I figured out who Y/n is hung up on.”

“Who?” Aemond eye widened, eager for answers. 

“You, you bloody idiot.”

“Me?” Aemond’s eyes widened. His heart crashed and burned in the acidic pit of his stomach. He helplessly watched as you captured Cregan’s attention, the baseball player jogging in your direction. 

“Cregan asked her on a date, and she said she’d think about it. After she saw you with Alys, I guess she quickly reconsidered her prospects with Cregan.”

Aemond remained quiet, his eyes glued onto you as his sister spoke.

“Make a move before it’s too late, Aem.”

“Hey guys!” Aegon appeared out of nowhere, out of breath. “Can you believe… how fast... Floris Bara...theon runs...” He paused, taking a deep breath. “She found out I met with her cousin in the boiler room. Talk about messy-”

“-Aegon!” Aemond looked up at his elder brother. “Y/n is agreeing to go on a date with Cregan.”

“No way!” Aegon’s eyes flew to the scene, where you were in fact flirting with Cregan. “Good for her! I told her to get laid-”

“-Aegon, go get her, tell her its urgent.”

“I just caught my breath, Aem, I’ve been running across campus-”

“Aegon, please.”

Aegon rushed off without further thought. 

You shrieked as you were suddenly picked up and thrown over a shoulder.

“Help I’m being kidnapped!” You yelled. Your panic settles once you hear Aegon’s and the other baseball players laughter. Arching your back to see Cregan, you wave him goodbye, bringing your hand to your ear and gesture with a wiggle of your wrist for him to call you. 

You playfully banged your fists against Aegon’s back, demanding to be let down on the ground. He didn’t budge carrying you to the picnic table. Once there, he helped you bring your feet back to the ground. 

Crossing your arms on your chest you stared at him in mild annoyance. “What the hell was that about?”

The Targaryen siblings stared at each other awkwardly, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation.

“I found a group costume!” Aegon announced loudly, all heads snapping to him. That was one way to get your attention.

Would you like to go back?

Taglist current:

@crazylokonugget @fan-goddess @at-a-rax-ia @mishala005 @qweencrimson

[theragethatisdesire]

much ado about nothing chapter 1 - eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

i am so excited for you guys to finally meet the eren that has been haunting my dreams for the last few weeks lol.

specific cws for this chapter: drug use/mentions, alcohol use, a wee pinch of smut (fantasizing specifically), swearing, floch being the actual worst

“Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?” - As You Like It by William Shakespeare (Act III, Scene 5)

You take advantage of the short ride to your fourth-floor apartment to release your heavy tote bag from your shoulder, wincing as it crashes against the elevator floor. The little boom makes your head pound, and you rub your eyes hard enough to see stars, trying to suppress a frustrated groan. It’s week six of the semester, midterm week, and as an undergraduate professor, you’re feeling the pressure as much as your students.

You’re feeling the pressure twofold; you may have thirty-five midterm essays to grade, but you also have four to write for your Master’s program, absolutely none of which you’ve started. You’ve called Eldia University home for the last six years, and while the library is essentially a second apartment to you at this point, the four thirteen-hour days you’ve pulled there just this week are starting to take a toll on your sanity.

The front door of your apartment looks like an oasis in a desert, and your knees nearly buckle when you crack the door and the scent of home hits your nose.

“That you?” Historia’s voice reaches your ears, floating from living room.

“Yeah,” you call back, placing your keys on the little decorative key holder Historia bought junior year, slumping with relief when you abandon your tote by the door. You’re burnt out, but Historia has lived with you for almost four years now; being around her is as good as being alone. You scrounge around in the fridge for a well-earned beer, popping it open and rounding the corner to join her in the living room. To your surprise, she isn’t alone.

“Stor?” Your initial reaction is confusion, quickly elevating to alarm when the man sitting across from Historia turns his body to you, giving you a glimpse of several baggies full of pills. Your cute, hand-painted coffee table is currently covered in drugs.

Historia smiles sheepishly. “My professors fucking hate me. Just a little study aid.”

You nod slowly, the panic dissipating in your chest– so she hasn’t fully gone off the deep end. You’ve both used Adderall to get this far along in your academic careers, not liberally, but desperate times and all that.

Now that the source of the pills is sorted, you draw your attention to the unfamiliar man looking laughably huge in comparison to the little Urban Outfitters bean bag he’s perched on. He’s lifted his face to look at you now, eyes none-too-subtly flicking down to where your tits are being pushed together by your crossed arms. Scummy, you think, but oddly enough, you don’t mind. He’s hot, like where-do-they-even-make-guys-like-you hot, deep brown hair pulled into a messy bun and brooding, bloodshot eyes scanning you up and down. The side of his pouty mouth quirks up.

“Hi,” you state awkwardly, offering your name. You’ve partied, sure, but you’ve never been into the druggie scene, never gotten the hang of interacting with these guys that possess the nonchalant confidence that only drug dealers can tout.

“Eren.” The name fits him well, simple but unique. His voice is deeper than you expected, a low rumble. He shuffles through the pill baggies he’s brought with him. “Want anything? I have 40 and 60 milligram Adderalls and Vyvanse, some extended release…”

“I’m clocked out for the day,” you tip your beer bottle at him meaningfully. Eren’s smile grows at your little quip.

“Thought I’d ask while I’m here.”

“Thanks,” you say, unsure of what to do with yourself now. You settle for plopping down beside Historia on the couch, sipping your beer quietly as you watch the little transaction take place on your coffee table. You’re not involved, not after the obligatory introductions, but he’s piqued your interest. You listen as he walks Historia through what she’s purchased, how many, and how much it will cost.

When Historia leaves to grab her wallet, he turns his gaze towards you. “Grad school?”

You’re surprised; he’s so casual, borderline bored, with the way he carries himself that you hadn’t expected idle conversation from him. “Yeah, I teach a couple undergraduate classes, too.”

“That’s a lot,” Eren looks impressed, “you must be pretty smart, then.”

“Pretty broke, you mean. I get a huge discount on my tuition if I teach while I take classes,” you explain. Eren nods along, a curious glint in his green eyes. It strikes you that he’s not just hot, he’s actually pretty, in a grungy, bad-boy sort of way. Historia returns with a beer for herself and her money, snapping you out of your private realization and whatever strange tension has begun to build across the coffee table.

You find yourself admiring his large hands, taking note of the little sparrow tattoo nestled on the back of his hand behind his thumb, watching intently as he counts Historia’s cash. Your stomach twists in a way it hasn’t in a very long time as he bids you goodbye. Oh boy.

“I take this as a sign that we’re going out tonight?” Historia gestures to both of your beers. You’re a little shaken from the last five minutes, blinking slowly as your Shakespeare-saturated brain works through what she’s said.

“I mean, I wasn’t going to go out out, but I could definitely blow off some steam.”

“Thank god you said that,” Historia sighs dramatically, flopping back into her seat beside you and taking a long swig out of her bottle, “Ymir’s going home this weekend, and I’d look like such a sad sack if I went and sat at Scout’s by myself.”

You chuckle, thinking fondly of the grimey dive bar you’ve both developed an affinity for. “That would be pretty pathetic, but I’m happy to be of service. Scout’s it is.”

“Should we text Sasha?” Historia starts rattling on about what she wants to wear– something cute, but not too cute, but not trying not to look cute– and your tired mind drifts back to…Eren, oddly enough. You want to think into why he asked if you were in school, why he looked at you like you were a puzzle he couldn’t put together, but you were as realistic as you were imaginative. Sure, Eren didn’t exactly seem the type to make small talk, but you’d known him for all of five seconds. And maybe that wasn’t a look, maybe it was just…his face? You’re out of ideas, mulling it over when Historia snaps her fingers in front of your face.

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?”

You sigh, busted. “Nope. Not one word.”

“Are you seriously that braindead from the library? And here I was thinking you got home early today,” Historia shakes her head pityingly.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, and before you can stop yourself: “How do you know that Eren guy?”

“I was going to ask how you didn’t know Eren,” Historia says, eyes widening incredulously, “who was your dealer in college?”

You grimace. “Floch.”

“Figures,” Historia rolls her eyes with a visible shudder, “I still don’t know why you ever–”

“Stor, focus,” you reroute her before that unfortunate conversation can be rehashed, “Eren?”

“I think he sold Ymir and me some molly at a party sophomore year– no, wait, maybe junior?” Historia shrugs. “I don’t really know, actually. He’s just one of those guys everyone knows one way or the other.”

“Not me I guess,” you take a sip, trying your best to look nonchalant. Historia knows you too well, however, a wicked grin playing at her mouth.

“You think he’s cute, don’t you?”

“What? No, he’s like, a sketchy drug dealer. No way.” Your face grows warm, betraying you.

“Eren’s not sketchy,” Historia says decisively. She catches the disbelieving expression on your face. “He’s really not. He lives like, three blocks from us, and he hangs out with Armin and them.”

“Armin?” You picture the soft-spoken blonde man you’ve befriended from your graduate courses who always wears sweater vests and prefers tea to coffee. Armin’s damn near a genius, far too bright for your small program. “Like, Armin Armin?”

“They’re like, best friends,” Historia affirms, “see? Not sketch. Plus, he’s super fucking hot.”

“You’re literally a lesbian,” you deadpan, “how would you know?”

“I may fuck women, but I have eyes,” Historia smirks, “plus, he was totally checking you out. When was the last time you even got laid?”

Embarrassingly, you have to think on that one. It’s been at least since before the semester started, and you were so busy with those summer courses, not to mention that bartending job you’d taken for extra cash… “I…I honestly don’t know.”

“See?” Historia wiggles her feet under her bottom excitedly, sitting up on her knees. “I have his number–”

“I am literally twenty-four years old. Don’t you think we’re a little too mature to run around fucking our drug dealers?”

“On account of my lovely, beautiful girlfriend and aforementioned lesbianism, I am. You, on the other hand, are not,” Historia grins, pulls out her phone, “you sure you don’t even want his Snapchat?”

“My Snapchat career died when I drank my last Four Loko like, three years ago,” you scoff, shoving her phone away from you. “Don’t you have a not-cute outfit to put on, anyway?”

Historia narrows her eyes at you. “It’s not not cute, it’s trying not to be cute while simultaneously being cute!”

“What?”

“I actually confused myself a little with that one,” she admits, scratching her head, “but you’re right. The sooner we can get to the bar, the better.”

You both scramble through the pile of clean clothing on your floors, each of you too busy and overworked to bother putting it away, and before you know it, you’re in your happy place: chatting with Sasha and Historia, tucked snug against the sticky bar at Scout’s. You’ve all been coming here since the fake ID days; you still remember Historia’s twenty-first, when she had smacked her real driver’s license into the chest of the grumpy old barkeep, Levi, with a triumphant “Ha!”. He’d given you all a round of free shots, and then promptly thrown you out and banned you for a week as time-out. You’d all taken to calling him “Captain” because of the way he ran his bar tight like a navy ship.

“Oh, Captain Levi!” Sasha sing-songs down the bar at him, waving her empty beer bottle and blowing him a kiss. Levi’s unimpressed, dropping another Bud Light onto a coaster in front of her and walking away without a word. “He hates me.”

“He hates you,” you agree, nodding into– what is this, your third beer? Fourth? You’ve already resigned yourself to a lazy Saturday morning, deciding (after some prodding from Historia and Sasha) that your overworked brain deserves more than a two-hour break.

“I don’t get why,” Sasha pouts, digging her hand into the complimentary peanuts the Captain had flung at you upon arrival, “I always tip well.”

“You have to tip well because you annoy the shit out of him every time we come,” Historia corrects her, glancing towards the door.

You frown at her. “Who are you looking for? That’s like, the fourth time you’ve checked the door since we got here.”

Historia makes a show of faux-innocence, checking her phone and looking back at the door again. “No one.”

“Ymir’s out of town, and we’re both here, so that rules out the only suspects I can think of,” Sasha shrugs. You watch Historia closely, the way she checks her phone every few moments, the way her eyes haven’t landed anywhere but you or the door for the last ten minutes, remembering the way she had insisted you tug your shirt down to bare a little more cleavage a few minutes ago…your heart drops. 

“You. Fucking. Didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” Historia’s got a smile tucked under her teeth now, another glance toward the door.

“You didn’t!”

“Didn’t what?” Sasha whips back and forth between you two, panicked. “Didn’t what?”

“You did not invite him.”

“I didn’t invite him–”

“Who?” Sasha demands. You seethe, refusing to take your withering glare off of Historia.

“Her fucking dealer.”

“You have a dealer now, Stor?” Sasha’s eyes fly wide with worry.

“He’s not my dealer,” Historia rolls her eyes, “it’s Eren.”

“Eren Jaeger?” Sasha calms instantly, even looking bored. “Why does that matter? Is he bringing Armin?”

“He came over earlier, and he was totally checking her out–”

You interrupt Historia’s explanation, exasperated. “How does everyone know Eren?”

“I told you, he’s just one of those guys–”

“Everyone knows, I know,” you grumble, taking a long sip, “but even Sasha knows him, and I don’t? I mean, come on.”

“I only know him through Connie,” Sasha pets your arm, chastising, “and my old roommate was hooking up with him for awhile. He’s seriously packing.”

“I heard that!” Historia practically squeals, shaking Sasha’s arm. “Is it true?”

“Who cares?” You shoot daggers at both of them, well aware that you’re making a show out of your annoyance. A small part of your brain does care what’s lurking behind Eren’s zipper, but it’s not like you’re going to act on it. “Why did you invite him, Historia? We don’t even know the guy.”

“I told you,” Historia shows you her phone, proof on the screen, “I didn’t invite him. I just happened to mention we’d be here, and it turns out he’s coming anyway. See?”

> thanks for coming by such short notice earlier! is anyone having a kickback tonight? we’re stopping in at scouts but not sure ab later.

> Not that i know of but me and min will be there later i have a few guys picking up around 10 see u then.

The English major part of your brain instantly hates the way he texts; what kind of psycho doesn’t include a single punctuation mark in between three independent clauses excepting a period at the end?

“He texts like he’s illiterate,” you wrinkle your nose. Historia and Sasha groan.

“He’s a dude, he probably is illiterate, but who cares? I’m talking like eight inches–” Sasha’s cut off by Captain Levi reaching across the bar to slam her beer back onto its coaster from where she had moved it onto the hardwood, fixing her with a disgusted glare. “Oops.”

“Poor Captain,” you muse, watching as he dutifully polishes a set of clean tumbler glasses. “No wonder he hates you.”

“He hates everyone, if it makes you feel any better.” A familiar voice floats over your shoulder, and you smile, swiveling on your barstool to lock eyes with Armin. You hug him like you hadn’t just seen him this morning, the few drinks you’ve had pushing you to be a little over affectionate.

“How are you?”

“Thirsty,” Armin responds, smiling bashfully. Your excitement fizzles into nerves when you notice who’s behind him. Eren got his hands tucked into the pockets of a well-loved, olive-green hoodie (that makes his eyes pop, an unhelpful part of your brain notices), one corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Funny seeing you here,” Eren exchanges a conspiratorial glance with Historia, one that makes your entire face warm.

“Very funny,” you say dryly, shooting a nasty look in Historia’s direction, “work or pleasure?”

“Mostly the former,” Eren says, reaching over the bar to grab two beers from the ice well, “but might as well.”

Your jaw drops; you look back to the Captain, waiting for him to throw Eren out of his bar, but the Captain simply nods coolly at Eren, returning to his polishing.

“How did you just survive that?” You can’t help but gape at him. Eren hands one of the beers to Armin, shrugging.

“I keep half of his late-night staff awake and on-task. Call it a perk of the job.” You want to hate the ease with which he says it, but the lack of arrogance in his voice stops you. He’s not like other dealers you’ve met, always covered in tacky face tattoos and posting Instagram stories of, like, three hundred dollars, showing it off like it’s enough to buy more than a decent used TV with. In fact, you couldn’t picture Eren showing anything off; he’s self-assured, but not smug. Cool, but not out of touch.

“We’ve been coming here for years, and the Captain still hates us.” You’re loath to admit it, but you’re a little– but just a little– impressed. Eren raises an eyebrow at Sasha behind you, telling some story to Armin that evidently requires so much enthusiasm that she’s waving her hands wildly, nearly knocking her beer over. Armin catches the bottle as it happens, looking over his shoulder anxiously at Levi.

“I wonder why.”

“Sasha’s just…” you want to defend your friend, but she’s busy tipping her beer over for the second time, “easily excited.”

“And you’re not?” Eren asks quizzically, amusement clear on his face. In comparison to his unreadable resting expression, any form of emotion looks good crossing his features. A nervous fluttering erupts in your stomach, one you desperately try to quell.

“Hey! I’m fun, just…not as fun as Sasha.”

“I don’t think many people are,” Eren agrees, wincing as Sasha’s beer finally escapes Armin’s quick fingers, crashing over the bar. Levi rushes over to scold her, something that makes both of you laugh.

When you turn back to Eren, his eyes are looking over the top of your head in the direction of the door. A sandy-haired frat dude has entered, looking around and tapping his foot with an obviousness that rivals having walked in with a huge neon sign that read Looking for my plug. Annoyance flickers on Eren’s face for a moment, and he sighs.

“Gimme a sec,” he sets his beer beside yours, “I’ll be right back.”

You haven’t indulged in the conversation long enough to require the promise of a return, but as you watch him walk towards the door, steer the frat dude into a corner you know the cameras don’t catch, you catch a hint of excitement in yourself for him to come back. You pick anxiously at the label on your beer bottle, putting conscious effort into looking anywhere but the back of Eren’s head until an unpleasant, familiar scent envelops you. Your stomach roils.

“Hey you,” Floch slides into Eren’s formerly-occupied spot, smiling saccharinely sweet, “where have you been hiding?”

You can practically feel Historia and Sasha bristling behind you; Floch isn’t an ex, exactly, more like a prolonged series of lapses in judgment. You sigh, trying to look just interested in him enough not to be rude.

“You know me, I stay busy.”

“So busy you can make time for Scout’s without inviting me?”

You feel the grimace flicker momentarily across your face. “You’re here anyway, aren’t you?”

“Would have come earlier if I knew you were going to be here,” he gets closer, his tacky cologne clouding the air around you. You nearly groan; what had ever possessed you to hook up with this guy? Multiple times? The thorn he is in your side now is what you deserve for your stupidity.

“Can we just cut to the chase?” You surprise even yourself with how curt you sound. “I’m too busy for anything like…that at the moment.”

Floch pouts, contrived innocence on his freckled face. “Anything like what?”

You open your mouth to answer, but Eren’s pushing his way back into the spot he’d been standing, interrupting whatever weak-willed excuse you were preparing to offer Floch. Floch’s clearly flustered, moving aside to make room for Eren, eyes flickering between the both of you.

“Hey Jaeger, good to see you again, man,” Floch slaps a stiff hand on Eren’s shoulder. The look on Eren’s face can only be described as a mixture of bewilderment and thinly-veiled distaste; you have to hide your snicker behind your hand.

“Yeah, you too…?”

“Floch Forster,” Floch’s eyes dart off to the side, a light flush rising to his cheeks. “I think we actually met a while ago, at Onyo’s birthday thing? I’m a friend of hers.”

Eren’s eyes meet yours; you try to make the most subtle expression you can to alert Eren to the fact that you and Floch are most definitely not friends. Eren inclines his head ever so slightly to confirm that he’s picked up on your signal, turning to Floch and using the few inches he has on him to bully the other man further out of your space.

“Okay well, Floch, we were sort of in the middle of something, so if you don’t mind…”

You blink, startled at Eren’s bluntness, the sort of outright tone that’s only used by someone who can back up their shit. Floch’s taken aback, backing up by a foot or so, but he furrows his brow. He’s never been one to go down easy.

“In the middle of what, exactly? We can’t all be friends?”

Eren chuckles lightly, but the threat is there. “No.”

Floch’s features twist with anger. “What’s your problem, dude?”

“No problem,” Eren says coolly, “just in the middle of something.”

Floch looks to you to confirm, and you nod your head silently, angling your barstool towards Eren to make your point. “I’ll see you around, Floch.”

“Yeah,” Floch’s frown grows deeper, but he mercifully makes his way back to his table, “see ya.”

A beat of pregnant, awkward silence passes between you and Eren as Floch retreats, the unasked question weighing the air down between you.

“So, he’s not–”

“Please tell me that isn’t–”

You both speak at the same time, cutting yourselves off with a laugh. Eren brings his beer to his lips, grinning. “You first.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but he’s not an ex.”

Eren raises a suspicious eyebrow. “Could have fooled me.”

“He’s just…a bad decision or two, that’s all.” That’s as gently as you can put it without bringing up the days when you were as fun as Sasha, maybe even more so, pounding as much tequila as you could get your hands on and going home with more than a few unsavory characters. You’ve left most of that life behind now, but Floch loves to rear his head at the worst moments and rarely backs down without a fight. “Thanks for getting him out of here, by the way.”

“You didn’t seem overly interested,” Eren finishes his beer, leans forward onto the bar and makes a little hand signal to Levi. You smirk.

“Only get the first round free?”

“Two more,” Eren ignores your teasing to speak to Levi, pointing between himself and your near-empty bottle. He pulls out a twenty, slides it to Levi, holds up his hand when Levi offers him change.

“Big spender too, huh?”

Eren rolls his eyes, something playful toying at the corner of his mouth. “Just because me and ‘Min drink for free, doesn’t mean you do. If I’m getting you a beer, I’m going to pay for it.”

“And tip triple what it’s worth?”

“Honestly,” Eren leans close to you and lowers his voice, something woody and intoxicating wafting off of him, “I think I pissed off your ex, and if he’s anything like the guy I think he is, he’s going to get trashed and try to fight the pinball machine in the corner. It’s the least I can do.”

His proximity goes to your head, makes your brain cloudy. He’s close enough that you can see his pulse thudding in his throat. You swallow hard, scramble for a response. “Aren’t you quite the philanthropist? And he’s not my ex.”

“Go tell him that,” Eren scoffs, “get the pinball fight on early.”

“Do you talk to every girl like this?”

“Like what?”

“Patronizing,” you say accusingly, letting a sip of cold beer wash over your tongue, hoping it will shock you out of your little trance. To your surprise, a divot appears between Eren’s thick brows and his bottom lip sticks out a bit in a pout.

“‘M not trying to be patronizing,” he leans on the bar, god, now he’s even closer, “sorry if it came off that way.”

“I was teasing,” you smile half-heartedly, leaning back in your barstool to get a few precious inches between you two.

“I just…really don’t like that kid. Gives me a bad vibe.”

“You’ve hit the nail on the head there,” you agree, chancing a glance back over your shoulder to the redheaded man at the hightop. Floch doesn’t notice you peeking, too caught up in making a group of underclassmen who are definitely underage giggle demurely at whatever he was saying. That was always something you hated about him; he was so showy, always having to establish himself as the center of attention in every room. He was just so unlike…Eren. You want to smack a palm to your forehead, knock the thought right out of your brain.

Something catches Eren’s attention, and you turn to look. Yet another antsy frat boy is hovering by the door, sweating bullets. Eren glances down at you apologetically, but you only smile back at him, understanding.

“Go ahead.”

“Two seconds,” Eren promises, pressing his beer into your hand as a guarantor of his return.

The next hour or so passes in mostly the same fashion; Eren alternates between standing beside you and making inconspicuous handshakes with a few more customers that come ambling into the bar. Some are anxiety-ridden like the first two, some appear to be friends, clapping Eren on the back and pulling a bright, genuine smile out of him that makes your stomach do backflips. You shoot the shit in the meantime, bickering over trivial topics like the best late-night pizza shops around and which streaming service is actually worth the money.

You don’t learn anything too substantial about Eren, but you do learn a few things. He seems to enjoy listening to you talk about literature, a welcome change from Historia and Sasha, psychology graduate students who tend to zone out whenever you let a term like “character development” slip. His eyes light up when you go into a detailed rant about how Hamlet isn’t overrated and anyone who thinks it is just doesn’t know how to properly analyze it, and he cackles when you inform him that Dante’s Inferno is essentially Bible-based fanfiction that has irreparably altered the Christian religion for the worse.

You learn that family is a sore spot, an innocent, obligatory question from you about life back home casting a shadow over Eren’s face. You immediately backtrack, of course, but pocket his reaction so you can avoid the topic later. You learn that he’s a cat person; he has a little black kitten at home named Gumi from his favorite anime. You learn that he’s deathly allergic to pistachios, but not any other nuts for some reason that his childhood doctors could never pinpoint. Most recently, you’ve learned that he hates tequila, basing this observation on his fake-retching reaction when Sasha orders a round of shots.

He raises his eyebrows, impressed, when you throw yours back without flinching. “So you’re a tequila girl, huh?”

“I’m blowing off steam,” you brush him off. You can hear your voice developing a slight slur to it, though, and behind you, Sasha and Historia are starting to sing some old, classic rock song you used to pregame with. You know your fun night out has started to reach its expiration date.

“Not driving, right?”

“God no,” you shake your head vigorously, “I live around the corner, remember?”

“That’s right,” Eren’s mouth quirks up in a way that makes you think he’s not thinking about the past, but of a potential future he could file that address away for. Warmth pools in your stomach, bubbling low and molten in your core; yeah, you need to get out of here.

“Speaking of…” you pull your purse around to set it in your lap, rifling through it for your credit card, “we should probably head that way soon. When I start taking shots and Sasha starts singing, it’s bedtime.”

Eren blushes; you have to hold back a giddy laugh at how cute it looks on him. “You don’t need that.”

“Don’t need what?’

“Your card.”

You roll your eyes at him. “I get that you have friends in high places here, but my name is permanently engraved on the Captain’s shit list, so I actually have to pay my tab.”

“I, uh, sorta took care of it while you were in the bathroom. Figured you’d be heading out soon.” Eren rubs a hand over the back of his neck. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he almost looks bashful.

You blink, processing his words. “Eren…you didn’t have to do that.”

“Wanted to,” he shrugs, turning to face the community of sticky bottles on Levi’s side of the bar, the pink on his cheeks deepening.

“I’m going home alone,” you clarify, just in case you’ve given him the wrong impression. Well, it might not necessarily be the wrong impression; you’ve been trying to keep the simmering under your skin contained all night, but you’re still not going to take him home…at least not the first day you’ve met him, you tell yourself.

“Yeah, I know,” he chuckles, “I didn’t pay because I thought it’d convince you to go home with me. Sometimes people are just nice.”

You’re a little stunned. Somehow you think you’d be less surprised if he had said he paid it with the expectation of you fucking him. “...right. Well, thank you, anyway. You really didn’t have to.”

“No problem,” Eren’s air of casual coolness has returned, he slings an arm around your shoulder when you slide off of your barstool to land on the floor beside him, squeezing your body tight to his in a little half-hug. “It was cool talking to you. Sure you don’t need an escort?”

He eyes Sasha and Historia behind you, giving their goodbyes to Armin via a peppering of kisses all over his now-red face. You shake your head up at him, feeling rather incapacitated with the weight of his muscly arm bearing down on your shoulders. “I think we’ll survive.”

“I’ll see you soon, then.” The promise glitters in his eyes as it leaves his lips, leaves your head in a whirl.

To your disappointment, he hugs Historia and Sasha goodbye, too, and you make your drunken way home, arms linked as you charge through the October chill. Your friends beg for details of your night, Historia gloating intermittently, but you aren’t even sure what to tell them. Nothing of importance had really happened, and yet, it felt like it had.

As you drift into what will hopefully be a long night of much-needed sleep, you try to make a mental list of all the things you need to do to set up your class’ next unit. You’re moving onto Shakespeare, but your hazy mind keeps inexplicably wandering back to green eyes, plush lips, long fingers wrapping around a sweaty bottle. You hadn’t actually been lying to Floch when you told him you were far too busy for anything remotely resembling male companionship for the time being, but something about Eren…he was stuck to your dwindling consciousness, the most irrelevant details of your conversation together playing on a loop in your head. Much ado about nothing, indeed.

[hairmetal666]

Just before Christmas, Hawkins has a huge snowstorm--biggest they've seen in decades. Mr. Merrill finds a sleigh, cleans it up, starts offering rides along the same path as the Haunted Hayride he runs at the pumpkin patch each October. And none of that should effect Eddie at all, except Steve Harrington calls him up and says the kids all want to go, Robin and Nancy too, and maybe Eddie wants to come? And Eddie says yes even though he absolutely does not want to. Doesn't like the cold; only likes watching the snow as it falls, has no interest in being out in it; and has his suspicions about horses when they're staring at him right in the eye (they're too big and they kick hard and they have all those teeth).

He says yes because Steve Harrington and his pretty hair and his plump pink lips and his tantalizing constellation of moles have Eddie's heart in a chokehold. And when the pretties boy in Hawkins calls to ask you to go for a sleigh ride with him (plus his platonic soulmate who's dating his ex-girlfriend and the seven kids you co-parent), you don't say no.

It's not a date. Eddie knows. But it's a chance to be close, to look, to laugh, to pretend that friendship proximity is enough.

As soon as Eddie walks into Steve's house, the man himself is tsk-ing. "That's what you're wearing? You'll freeze!"

"I hate winter, you know that!" Eddie pouts.

Steve tuts, extra mom as he tugs Eddie's leather jacket tighter around his neck, and Eddie tries to not let their proximity make him blush.

With a shake of his head, Steve turns, starts upstairs. "Be right back."

And he's not lying, he's bouncing in front of Eddie in less than a minute, hands full of red yarn.

"Wha--" Eddie can't get the words out before Steve jams a pair of fuzzy red ear muffs over his curls, wrapping a matching scarf gently around his neck.

All of that is astonishing in itself, but Eddie swears, swears, that Steve's eyes linger on his lips before darting back up to look him in the eye. And that the tips of Steve's ears glow pink.

"Here," Steve thrusts the red mittens into Eddie's hands. "You can do these yourself."

Under normal circumstances, Eddie would say something over-the-top flirty, too silly to be serious, but this has all thrown him for a loop, so he only manages a , "th-thanks." Then, Steve turns away, putting on his own, bright yellow winter gear. He grabs a buffalo plaid tote bag (such a mom), and before Eddie can ask what, exactly, Steve has in there, they're out the door to collect the kids and Robin and Nancy.

❄️❄️❄️❄️

Eddie knows, now, what was in the tote. A fucking thermos full of fucking hot chocolate, because Steve Harrington is infuriating and perfect, and Eddie is so fucking gone, and Steve is straight, and life is full of unfairness but this is almost too much.

He shivers and pulls the scarf that Steve (so carefully, tenderly) wrapped around his neck tighter.

The kids are all done with their ride, running through the wide open fields now, throwing snowballs and half-heartedly trying to shape snow bricks for a house. Nance and Rob are on theirs, and it's just Steve and Eddie, waiting their turn, and of course it's together. The kids all wanted to go in their group and obviously the girlfriends deserved the one-on-one time (each with lovingly poured paper cups of hot chocolate, of course), and Eddie couldn't leave Steve solo, so. It's just the two of them.

The sleigh pulls back up, and the girls, giggling pink, jump out. They rush away, leaving Eddie and Steve with Farmer Merrill and the two horses hitched to the sleigh, none of whom bother to look at the boys waiting their turn.

"Well?" Merrill asks.

"Ready, Harrington?"

"I'm not the one afraid of horses, Munson."

"Hey, I didn't say afraid," but he doesn't get to finish, because Steve climbs up to sit on the bench, patting the open space next to him.

Eddie gets in, and doesn't want to admit it but he's charmed and by more than just Steve. The sleigh is painted a deep hunter green with gold accenting, there are fucking jingle bells on the horse harnesses, and thick fleece plaid blankets piled high, so that riders can keep warm.

As soon as Eddie sits, Steve pulls the blankets over their laps. With a snap of the reigns, the horses start forward and Steve pours them hot chocolate. And goddamnit, Eddie's in love and he wants to hate this so much, it's so twee and sweet and unintentionally romantic and he adores it and the gorgeous boy sitting next to him.

He's worked himself into a good grouch about it, but then they make their way into open farmland and Farmer Merrill snaps the reigns again and the horses start to trot. Eddie shrieks with glee as the sleigh glides through the snow, and he fucking giggles, which makes Steve laugh too.

"Told you you'd love it," he says.

Eddie would argue, but Steve's eyes flash bright with happiness; the tip of his nose and his cheekbones glowing pink, and Eddie wants to kiss every spot of cold on that perfect face. He wants it so badly he has to look away, can't deal with the low tug of want in his gut.

They slip from the field into the forest, horses slowing to a more sedate pace. The trees aren't so close here, and there are enough pine and evergreen, bright with life, to make it beautiful and not barren.

Steve makes a noise, a little sigh, a happy one, that has Eddie turn to see. The other boy's face is upturned towards the sky, the trees; snowflakes, knocked loose by the light breeze, nestle in his coifed chestnut hair, dusting against his red cheeks. Eddie's world begins and ends here, with this man, in this moment.

"It's beautiful," Steve says.

"Yeah," Eddie agrees. His voice comes out all wrong, eyes never leaving the man beside him.

Steve turns, finds Eddie's eyes on him. Eddie watches as Steve connects the dots, as his eyebrows raise, and he flushes red.

"I'm sorry," Eddie cringes, looks down at remnants of hot chocolate in his paper cup.

Steve doesn't say anything, and Eddie wonders how much it will hurt to jump from the sleigh, how long it will take him to get back home walking from here.

"Eds," Steve says. Finally. "Look at me?"

Eddie can't deny Steve anything, but fear grapples at his throat. He raises his eyes, expecting anger or disgust or any number of horrible things, but he doesn't expect the hope burning in Steve's face.

Holding eye contact, Steve's hand finds Eddie's under the blanket, wrapping together as best they can in mittens.

"Is this okay?" Steve asks.

"Yeah," Eddie nods. His blush is hot enough to melt all the snow in the county.

They smile at each other; Eddie stopped breathing miles ago, but finds he doesn't need the air anymore.

The sleigh slides through the snow with a hissing crunch, accompanied by jingle bells and the snow-muffled clomp of horses hooves. They're perfectly alone, Farmer Merrill paying them no mind, so when Steve's free hand brushes against Eddie's jaw, he leans into the touch.

It's easy to close the distance between them. And this time, when Steve's eyes linger on his mouth, Eddie knows it's on purpose. His eyes drift closed right as their lips slot together in the sweetest kiss Eddie's ever had. He wants to lick at Steve's mouth, bite at his pretty, perfect lips, but he figures they have time for that; time for them to explore and learn each other. For now, when Eddie thought he'd never get this at all, the soft brush of their mouths together is enough.

They pull apart, after a few too-short minutes, knowing the ride is about to end, but they keep their hands clasped under the blankets.

"Still hate the winter?" Steve asks as the horses stop.

"Don't push your luck, Harrington," Eddie scowls.

Steve just smiles at him, all charming and knowing and hot.

The other man jumps from the sleigh, and Eddie allows the grin he's been holding back to slide across his face.

And maybe, yeah, with Steve Harrington, the winter's not so bad.

[mxmollusca]

Yes, I would love to groom taika's arm hair with my tongue and yes, I would like to sensuously beat rhys with a pool noodle but do you know who I'm really parasocial for?

david fucking jenkins

I love a short daddy with haunting eyes and a passion for chaos

I want to get trapped in an elevator with that man and a tote bag filled with cans of whipped cream

[beansricejc]

John Wick x F!Reader: The Lurking Wolf

summary: stalker!JW finds you oh so fascinating. kind of a mesh of headcanons/one shot.

warnings: stalking, p in v descriptions, implied (potentially) noncon, male masterbation, unsolicited photography, murder fantasy, physical assault, mugging, general violence, cursing, bondage references, female reader (no use of y/n).

not proofread! uploading this at 12:15 am, so I’m def half asleep. pls enjoy.

the first time he saw you, it was a complete mistake. you were both at the New York City Trader Joe’s, which in itself is one of the busiest buildings in the damn neighborhood.

you’re walking out of the checkout line, reusable bag in hand full of wine and nice cheese for your friend’s dinner party that evening.

crash! a huge body slams into you, as the bigger person was in a rush, you drop your bag, and on instinct a pair of arms catch it for you before it hits the laminate floor.

his forearms are toned and tan, with his veins swelling under his muscular flesh. you even notice a pattern of multicolored bruises scattered on his brawny limbs. large hands grip the bottom of the bag, and a soft grunt escapes his lips from above you.

the scent of a car shop, aftershave, and few other things enter your nose while this is going on. it must be what this man smells like.

“oh, I’m sorry!” you apologize. you don’t know why you apologize, it’s certainly not your fault, it’s actually his, he was in a rush and wasn’t looking out for you. maybe it’s your anxiety spiking because you avoid confrontation, and John spots this out instantaneously.

your head tilts up to look at the accident prone man. unbeknownst to you, he’s the world’s most lethal weapon. of course you don’t know that, you just get lost in his deep brown eyes for a few seconds before laughing and flashing an awkward smile.

but John can’t keep his eyes off of you. he scanned your entire being, your figure, your pretty face. he snaps out of it when you apologize to him.

“no, it’s my fault. sorry about that.” his grumbly voice says to you while he hands you the tote bag. he clears his throat, and you take your bag back. you give him that nervous pressed lip smile that you give everyone, nod your head before you turn to leave the building.

you’ve made it a few blocks but you can’t shake the feeling of someone watching you. your cute little head has even whipped around your peripheral view a few times just to be sure.

you shrug the feeling off as your anxiety spiking from that grocery store encounter. naturally, you have no idea of the creature that’s following you back to your small Brooklyn apartment.

-

to John, you’re the embodiment of perfection. an angel on earth. every time he watches you from a suitable distance, there’s a tingly feeling in his chest and stomach. he doesn’t know what this is. he’s never felt this way about a woman (not even Helen herself, god rest her soul).

he’s even brought his camera he only uses for his targets whenever he comes to see you. he’ll wait in his black muscle car, right when your delicate hands open your bedroom curtains to let in the morning sunshine.

John gets to work. Pointing the lens at just the right angle, from when you reach on your tip toes to open window, giving John the perfect view of your well shaped hips and thighs.

he snaps a few more pictures and he can even spot some blue cotton panties that are revealed by your oversized shirt being a bit disheveled.

the blood rushes to his cock, and has to bite his lip to try to stop the feeling. it doesn’t help.

-

over the past few months of following you around, he’s come to realize he’s never actually interacted with you besides for the grocery store incident. he’s gotta change that.

there’s been a reoccurring fantasy that has haunted John for the past few weeks. for you to be saved by him. for John to be your knight in shining armor.

the things he would do to feel your body pressed to his. to have his arms wrapped around you, cocooning you in a protective position from harm.

well, he’s paid someone to find out. mainly to figure out if you’re a fight or flight kind of gal. he’s expecting the first option.

he knows your thursday night routine. your 9:30 pm trip to the bodega two blocks from your apartment. John assumes you have the munchies from those really low dosage THC gummies you buy from your friend Sam every other month.

he knows a lot about you.

and he’s paid a low level lackey to shake you up a bit.

the bell rings when you open the door to the shop, the cashier waved to you and greets you. you’re on a first name basis. John knows this, and the thought of you even speaking to another person of the male gender forces his blood to boil.

-

John has dreamt of putting his hands around the necks of the men in your life, besides for your step-father, and the nice old man at the local library you occasionally play chess with.

His strong hands would squeeze and squeeze as the men would gasp for air. With every blink of John’s eyes, the face would change. Your four ex boyfriends, your coworkers, your boss. The several guy friends you have in your big friend group. All of them, gurgling, gasping, choking. And then…

snap.

the hitman’s hands would finish the job. just another target. no, not just another target. a roadblock that has been demolished. one of the roadblocks, to you.

of course, John would wake up in a cold sweat, and for some reason, his dick would be completely erect from the images of taking the lives of the men you know.

his tip would be swollen and leaking of his precum. why was this the thing that made him the most hot and bothered?

the hands that have taken the lives of hundreds, gripping around his own girth and twisting, using his own arousal to lubricate it. but not too much, John prefers a decent amount of friction.

then his hand lurches up and down on his throbbing shaft. hips jerking forward. buck after buck. he’s picturing you, tied to his bedposts, legs spread wide.

the thought of thrusting his fat cock hard into you could make him finish if he’s not careful enough. but now? it’s coming in handy.

imagining the squelching noises from the sin you two are committing. damn near hearing your cries and whimpers, pleas of mercy, erupting from your lips, as your cunt quivers around his cock.

you’re taking him so well.

and oh, John’s letting you know.

“Good girl, how’s my princess feel?” he’d groan out, feeling how good your wetness is on his dick.

feeling you tighten whenever you’re close to climaxing.

but unfortunately, sometimes in these fantasies, they would go sideways, fast.

John’s eyes want to look at your chest and stomach, but he’s met with bloodied flesh. the crimson covers your soft torso, his hands, all the way up to your chest, which is bouncing with each needy thrust.

John’s head whipped to the side, realizing there were a few of your male friends, dead, on the bedroom floor, below you and John making love. was it love? or was it John getting his way?

with the cries of your duct taped muffled mouth, he couldn’t tell.

then John would break out of his dream, chest heaving up and down from the stimulation of the act.

“fuck…” John cursed, fist punching the bedside table. “I didn’t even cum.”

-

but here you were, back at the bodega late at night. you’re happily humming a song that you’ve been listening to a lot this month. John made a fake account, and followed you on Spotify.

cue that low level lackey we mentioned earlier. some gangster in his thirties, bald, with a goatee and big sunglasses.

you’re busy figuring out which Mexican soda you’d like. and tonight, you’ll be thanking your preference for that type of drink.

“gimme all your money, bitch! or you’re fuckin’ dead!” the lackey threatens with a nasty tone to his voice. you’re high but you jump, a gasp leaving your mouth.

“shit! okay.” you mumble, before a stupid idea comes to your head. it’s as if a little lightbulb turns on over your head, and your long eyelashes bat a few times.

“well!? wait are you waiting for?!” the goon asks, now finally pulling out his large firearm. of course it’s not loaded. he’s just been paid to play a part and scare you a bit.

you don’t wait.

John’s eyes widen as he watches from the bodega window, since your hand is reaching for the glass bottles of soda in the fridge.

his jaw drops when he sees your arm hurdles towards the goon. the bottle fractures right onto his pale bald head, the shards immediately exploding around you two, and also cutting into his scalp.

he’s bleeding everywhere. there’s even a few spurts of the soda and his blood on your face.

John has burst through the bodega entrance, as the guy he hired fell to the floor and covers his head from another attack.

and you’re still high as a kite during all of this, so you step back, and the bottom of your pink crocs slips on the cherry flavored Mexican coke that has splattered all over the hard floor.

so there you go, stumbling and making you body tumble backwards. cue Free Fallin’ by Tom Petty.

now, instead of your reusable tote, it’s you.

a pair of strong hands come into play. hands that have murdered, tortured, and paralyzed. the hands grab you by the waist, his grip is firm and safe, he’s got you.

John grits his teeth, moving ever so slightly to get a whiff of your hair. the scent of your coconut shampoo that you’ve bought on amazon a few times, make him go beserk. his heart faces, he swear he can feel every cell in his body stiffen up.

you’re facing away from him, he takes a quick peek at the back of your waist, up close and in person. now those dreams of pounding you from behind are slipping back into his head.

the moans, the slapping skin, the stench of sex in the air (which is just a mixture of cum, pussy, and sweat).

he has to use his fingers to dig into your sides a bit more just to force them away. he’s not sure if that even helps.

you catch your breath, trying to comprehend the events that are happening at the moment. unfortunately, you’re a bit foggy from being under the influence. the sting from John’s grasp is muted because of it.

but the scent of the man who caught you from behind is almost familiar. aftershave, oil, barbecue. that’s the exact same smell as…

“well hello again, sweetheart.”

…the guy at the grocery store.

————

tysm for reading! pls feel free to support with feedback, likes & reblogs! sorry for the different format, just been feeling a bit uninspired, and my summer is much busier than I thought it would be. love u all!

[genieofthebooks]

hi!! i was wondering if you could please do a george x reader where the reader is quill kipps’ little sister and she’s a quiet bookworm and her and george go to the archives together a lot and maybe kipps finds them one day and warns george against seeing her? just some general fluff hehe thank u

Love in the Archives

Pairing: George Karim x Fem!Kipps!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Protective older brother.

The Archives was your domain, your solace from The Problem.

In a world haunted by vengeful spirits of the past, the archives was a safety blanket that you could count on to always be there. It was easy to escape reality in there like a lotus bed from mythology, if you get too wrapped up in what you are doing, time passes faster than a blink.

Escaping society and its horrible way of forcing you out of your shell. Escaping the constant worry of your older brother who despite being a twat at times could be pronounced dead during every case he went on. Especially now when you knew he was losing his talent your worry increased to the point where you started to wake of nightmares, seeing your brothers dead body being dragged out from a haunted building was the last thing anyone needed to see which is where you found yourself in the archives even more than you used to. Instead of four times a week it was now everyday and staying there when it opens and when it closes for curfew.

A few perks came from the archives apart from an escape from everything and that you did not have to talk to anyone that you didn't, was that you made one of your first friend and maybe something more, in the archives.

It was a busy day and you had been there since the morning so you had been able to snag your favourite table, tucked away yet still having access to your favourite area of the archives, reading articles about a mysterious case from the 60s.

You were startled awake by a heavy, dusty tome being dropped on your table making your cold, abandoned tea threaten to spill over the edges of your treasured mug. You went to glare at the very person disturbing your peace but your glare stopped short once you caught sight of your favourite curly haired boy. Your glare turned into a soft smile as you watched George sit down opposite you and opened the heavy book.

"Is that for a case?" You peered over the table trying to get a glance at the words in the book but it was impossible from the words being upside down. Tilting your head like a lost puppy when you couldn't figure out the words on the page.

"Yes. however, if you ask me, Lockwood should never have agreed to the case as everything I have read only makes it more concerning" George rambled on, his voice raising every so often gaining him glares from others in the archives.

"That sound like Lockwood, Then again I only know him from what you and my brother tell me" You said to George, reaching over for his hand to calm him down.

"What are you reading?" George nods to your pile of newspapers that were spread around your side of the desk, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

"Some case that has been unsolved since the sixties where the police are unsure if it was a ghost, because it was at the start of the problem or a serial killer who went round killing a bunch of people. Now people also think that maybe he was a serial killer, died, became a ghost and kept on killing innocent victims." As you were explaining your findings, George was staring at your face as he noticed that your eyes were sparkling with curiousity and exitement and at times he caught himself glancing at your lips every once in a while.

Your hand shifted a newspaper over for George to look at to show him your favourite article so far on the case but because the news paper moved George managed to get a look at a worn out romance novel that was hiding under the papers.

"What's that?" George asked curiously.

Once you realised what he was looking at you quickly shoved the worn copy into your tote bag, slightly embarrassed that he saw the book and that he saw how worn out it was making it clear that you have read it many times. "Nothing of importance"

He noticed how your eyes darted from the bag to his face, nervous about his reaction until you did something he was not expecting, you darted into the bookshelves.

Once you were out of George's eyeline you rested your head against the metal bookshelves and started questioning your entire life existance.

"That was a bit of an overreaction" George's voice called out from where he was standing staring at your overthinking. He slowly walked over to you and pulled you away from your hiding spot. You avoided his eyes but he hooked two fingers under your chin, making you look into his eyes. "I think that you freaked out over something completely different but I need to do an experiment to test my hypothesis."

Your brows furrowed at his words but before you could say anything he lifted your face closer to his lips and leaned in and kissed you gently, before you could register what was happening he pulled away but you stopped him by kissing him back and he relaxed into the kiss once he realised that his hypothesis was right, you liked him back.

George's lips were soft against yours as he gently pushed you up against the bookshelf his hands finding a place at your waist. You smiled into the kiss as it was everything that you had ever imagined and was better than anything you had read.

He pulled away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours smiling at the small pants you were making after he literally and figuratively took your breath away.

"What on earth is going on here?"

Sorry if this wasn't any good and that it is not very long but I hope you liked it.

[domiforpresident]

Love to hate you, hate to love you ♡

|| Part 2

Paring: fem!blackreaderxRiriwillams

Summary: You and Riri have to work on an assessment together after school. Riri constantly tried to put up walls when around you, but you were willing to break them down. Though, Eventually she let them down for you.

Word count: 3.4k+

Warnings: slightly mean!riri, cursing, a little Riri angst (broke my heart to write fr)

This is briefly proof read so bare with me if there's any errors

Divider creds: @firefly-graphics

Dialog color coding: Riri, y/n, Maya, Riri’s Girlfriend

Tag list: @oceean @kya-rose @shahanaazsoumah @ririnator (if you wanna be tagged just lmk)

It had been a few weeks since you first encountered Riri. You couldn’t do your daily routine without thinking about her. You thought about her while in the shower and she even haunted you in your sleep. The only two places you thought you could escape the chokehold she had you in, she easily invaded. You barely even knew the girl but she was the only thing on your mind 24/7. Your notion to get back on Riri’s good side was still a priority of yours. You just didn’t know how to put it into motion. Riri had been skipping classes for the past few weeks. When you did see Riri The most interaction you had with her was when she would give you quick glance’s that came to an end as soon as she realized you were looking back. Today you hoped Riri would actually show up to class. You doubted she would though. Regardless, you got ready for the day like you usually do. You did your hair in twists, then did your edges. Next you put on a grey graphic sweater with light brown embroidered words on it, tan cargo pants, and your Jordan 1 dark mocha’s. You grabbed your tote bag and headed out the door, you would’ve eaten breakfast but you were too eager to see if Riri was going to show up to class today.

You were now walking down the halls headed to your class. You saw Riri’s girlfriend while turning a corner. This wasn’t anything new though you saw her quite often. But this time something was different, she looked worried, and she was coming your way. For god knows what you thought, maybe she had somehow found out you were plotting on her Girlfriend. Maybe she wanted to compliment your outfit, whatever it was you were anxiously anticipating what she was about to say to you.

“Hey y/n i was just wondering have you seen Riri” she muttered out fighting tears.

You thought to yourself how does she know my name if I’ve never spoken to her. In that moment though, the only thing you genuinely cared about was Riri’s well being.

“No, I haven't seen her yet, is she ok?” you asked.

“Yes she’s fine it’s just- never mind. If you do see her, let her know I just wanna talk to her.” Riri’s Girlfriend said while choking on her words a little as she walked away.

You remained standing there for a few seconds trying to brainstorm on what could’ve possibly happened as to where, Riri's Girlfriend would be fighting tears and asking where Riri was at. As well as why out of all people did she decide to ask you. At the end of the day It wasn’t your relationship issues, and even though she did tell you to let her know if you saw Riri you didn’t plan on doing so. You wanted a few moments with Riri to yourself. She would probably see Riri later on in the day anyway so you wouldn’t be hurting anyone by withholding that information you thought. you still needed to get to class so you headed down the halls once more.

Finally you had reached your destination, Now you were about to find out if Riri had skipped class again or if she was sitting in her designated seat right behind you. To your surprise there she was sitting down with air pods in. Riri had gotten her hair done in cornrows going straight back. She had on a black and white flannel, a white crop top that compressed to her body and revealed her abs, along with some baggy blue jeans that sat right on her waistline and a pair of black and white Jordan 4’s. You immediately perked up now knowing that she came to class today. You thought to yourself maybe today would be the day you could finally put your plan into motion.

You walked through the door with a big smile on your face and slid into your seat. The class was kind of chatty because your professor had stepped out for a second. You saw that as an opportunity to speak Riri and you took it.

“Hey Riri” you said with a small smile.

Riri ignored you. You thought it was because she couldn’t hear you over whatever she was listening to so you knocked on her desk. Lightly enough not to startle her but aggressive enough to get her attention.

"Huh?” Riri said as she took one of her air pods out her ear.

“Hey Riri” you said again with the same small smile in a sweet tone.

“What do you want that’s so important, that you had to interpret my music” Riri bluntly questioned.

“Well we do sit next to each other Riri, and you fr wanna go the whole year being rude to the person you’re sitting right behind??” you sighed out.

“So you didn’t have shit important to tell me. Made me cut off my music for nothing” Riri spat out at you.

“You should at least try to hold a normal conversation with me Riri, I’m gonna be here for the rest of the year. It wouldn’t hurt you to make a friend.” You said, trying your best to convince Riri to talk to you.

“and you should try to get off my-“

Before Riri could finish her sentence your professor walked in. She was still looking at you though. Instead of a look of irritation, She was looking into your eyes With that treacherous smirk on her face. At this point you couldn’t tell if Riri loved or hated you. She was so evil to you every time you and her talked and acted as if she hated you. But that smirk, her god awful Smirk said otherwise.

Your stomach was doing backflips and you felt yourself starting to blush. If you held eye contact with Riri any longer you knew you would say something to embarrass yourself so you turned around in your seat before you could. Riri let out a low chuckle. You were probably the only person who heard it. You thought her smirk was bad. But her laugh was worse, it made you feel like you were about to melt. It was so light and airy but so attractive at the same time.

“Ok guys we’re gonna be working on a project for the next few days, and you will be pairing up with your neighbors.”

Your professor then went on to further explain the assessment to the class. You were attentively listening, hoping to distract yourself from the way Riri made you feel. You knew that you liked Riri a lot, but nobody had ever made you flustered. It’s as if she knew ever button of yours to push. Riri got on your nerves, all while making you get butterflies in the same instance.

It was the end of class now and you needed to know where you and Riri were going to study. You turned around to face Riri again.

“So Riri…do you wanna study in my dorm or yours??” you asked her.

“My dorm. I don’t know what you got going on at yours.” Riri muttered the last part a little as if what she said had some underlying meaning.

“Well you’re gonna have to give me your number Riri, so i know what time to come over.” You explained.

“I don’t have to do anything. Maybe you should just read my mind and figure out when I’ll be ready to study ma.” She said mockingly as she threw that nick name at you again.

You found it corny coming from anyone else, but when Riri’s Chicago accent laced it, it sounded so smooth. However You were a soldier and you weren’t going to let Riri watch you fold that easily. Not yet.

“Riri I’m being serious” You picked up your phone. “put your number in my phone so i can text you when I’m on the way, and you can give me instructions to your dorm.” You spoke sternly trying to get your point across, and stand your ground.

“Hand me the phone y/n” Riri said as she rolled her eyes.

You handed her the phone and she put her number in it, then handed it back to you.

“Don’t try to come over after 10 though, My girlfriend is supposed to be coming over.” Riri said in a timid and exhausted tone.

You wanted to ask if she was ok, but you didn’t want to pry at her relationship problems, and risk the friendship with her that was slowly forming.

“Ok Riri that works for me, all i know is you better open the door when i get there.” You joked with Riri because you knew how rude she could be sometimes.

“I should keep yo ass locked out just for saying that” she joked back. In that low giggle that drove you insane.

“I’ll see you later Riri.” You laughed while walking out the door. Now walking in the hall’s, all you could picture was Riri’s low giggle, and how it danced off her tongue so smoothly.

You just made it back to your dorm. It was the end of the day now, all your classes were over. To your pleasant surprise, your best friend was there sitting on one of the beanbag chairs y’all had in the corner of your dorm. It’s been a while since you got a moment to talk to your bestie after she started spending the night over her boyfriend's apartment regularly. You needed a moment to catch up with her. So you dropped your tote bag on your bed and plopped down in the beanbag chair right next to her.

“Hey y/n, girl i was just about to text you and let you know i was here. I feel like we haven’t talked in forever.” Maya said while reminiscing on the conversation’s that you and her used to have.

“Maya so much has happened the past couple of weeks.” You began to explain. “You didn’t lie Riri’s lil butt is mean. I think that's one of the reasons why I like her.”

“You think you like Riri?? Need i remind you she has a gf." Maya tried warning you once again.

“I don’t think I know I like her. She’s literally all I think about, even if I wanted to stop thinking about her, I couldn't.” You tried to clarify.

“Well are you gonna shoot your shot or what? If you like her as much as you say you do, act on it girl.”your best friend tried to encourage you.

“Well it’s not that easy maya, I’m trying to build somewhat of a friendship with Riri. especially when thinking about the fact that the first time she spoke to me, she was yelling at me for scuffing her shoes.” You covered you face with your hand and blushed while saying the last part.

“You scuffed her shoes??” Maya couldn’t help but laugh.

“It wasn’t on purpose.” You blushed while laughing.

“Aww you really do like Riri huh??” Maya asked.

“I really do maya, and tonight I’m going to Riri’s dorm to work on an assessment with her.” You stated while smiling.

Your mind had now gone to the idea of being closer to Riri than what you usually were. You and her would possibly be inches apart, maybe even less than that. Riri was Making you nervous and she wasn’t even present.

Maya then got up from her bean bag chair. “Well good luck y/n I’ll talk to you later, and you better tell me how it goes with Riri.” Maya demanded in a playful manner.

Maya was now gone, probably at her boyfriends apartment. You were getting ready to go study at Riri’s dorm. You freshened up and took your hair out of the twist you put them in earlier today, and let your long thick 4-c hair fall to the middle of your back in a twist out. You now had on a white tank top, black sweatpants and your black converse. You texted Riri and let her know you were on the way to her dorm. When she texted you the directions, to your shock Riri lived right down the hall from you. So why hadn’t you seen her even if she wasn’t going to class? You had to save your thoughts for later though because now you were at Riri’s door. you knocked and she opened it.

“Hey Riri” you said while smiling. You were excited to see her and overjoyed that she opened the door the first time you knocked.

She had changed out of the clothes she had on in class and changed into a black wife beater, and black sweat shorts.

There was a moment of silence. She hit you with her extreme, and intoxicating eye contact again.

“So yo ass just gon stand outside all night, or you gon come in?” Riri grinned while giving you space to walk through the door.

You walked in her dorm. You would be lying to yourself if you said you thought Riri was going to properly invite you in. she welcomed you into her dorm without something extremely snarky to say. In your eyes that was progress.

“You can sit on the bed, I already started working, if you need help on anything I can explain it to you.” Riri told you.

For the first time Riri didn’t have something snarky to say to you. She genuinely wanted to get her work done. It’s not like she was in a rush though. When you sat down on her bed you saw she was practically done with the assessment. So why did she still invite you over, you thought to yourself.

Riri walked over to her bed and sat down right across from you, you and her notes were the only thing separating y’all. As you and Riri got to work you realized that you both work very well together, when she’s not trying to be rude to you.

An hour had passed, you and Riri were finishing your assessment, along the way you and her cracked a few joke's. As you and her were laughing a knock came from the outside of Riri’s door.

“Hold on y/n let me see who it is” Riri said as she looked at the door confused.

“Alright, don’t take too long though I’m starting to get sleepy, and we need to finish up.” You said as you smiled at Riri as she walked to the door.

You couldn’t help but be nosy and try to see who was knocking on Riri’s door at this time of night. It was a man. Specifically a white man. What the hell was a white man doing outside of Riri’s dorm room, especially at night!? You thought to yourself.

“I thought I told you not to come to my door anymore. If you want something done you gotta go to the website.” Riri said in an irritated voice.

Before the white boy could say anything else she slammed the door on his face. You couldn’t help yourself at this point you had to ask Riri what that was about.

“Who was that, your friend or something??” You asked.

“Nah just a customer” she put air quotations around the word customer, so now you were even more confused.

“Customer for what??” You asked once more.

“You came here to study, not be all up in my business” She argued.

“Oh come on Riri, we been playing and laughing this whole time. Now you wanna be rude again??” You rebutted.

You saw Riri break a little in that moment, she semi let down her walls for you.

“So basically…” Riri began. “I do people’s assignments and assessments, for a price of course. I make pretty good money off of it too.” She explained. “I figured, the work is mad easy for me so while I’m here i might as well get something out of it.” She added.

“No I get that, especially when thinking about the fact that you’re a black queer woman operating in a mainly white space, it wouldn’t hurt to have some extra money on the side.” you agreed.

“Exactly, these white people lucky to have me, not the other way around.” Riri proclaimed.

“Don’t say that too loud, they might hear you and come to get you, because god forbid a black woman have confidence in her intelligence.” You joked.

Riri was starting to blush. You were validating her experiences which no one had ever done for her before. It was definitely a sight you could, and planned to get used to.

“I’m glad you invited me over Riri, it was nice studying with you.” You said as you packed up your things.

“I guess it wasn’t unbearable to study with you either y/n.” She said with a subtle smile on her face.

Riri wasn’t smirking at you, she was actually smiling at you?? you managed to make Riri smile.

“Good night Riri” you smiled back while rolling your eyes and walking out her door.

You had made real progress with Riri today, you actually made her smile. Not only was she smiling but she was smiling at you. The sight melted your heart.

You were back at your dorm now, you Changed out of your sweatpants, and into some pajama shorts. As You were laying down in your bed drifting off to sleep, you got an unexpected text from Riri.

"Can I come over? I know it's late but I really need someone to talk to."

"Yeah of course Riri" you texted her back. If anyone else asked your immediate answer would've been no, but with Riri it was different.

You didn’t know what to expect when Riri got to your dorm. It was late as hell. What could Riri possibly want to talk about?

It had been 5 minutes since Riri texted you and you heard a knock at your door. When you opened it, to your shock Riri’s eyes were puffy and red. She had tears falling down her cheeks. You instinctively pulled Riri into a hug.

"Oh my God Riri what the hell happened." You asked in a concerned tone as you walked Riri over to your bed.

"Um- my…my girlfriend came over and we started arguing really bad, it got mad heated." Riri whispered as she barely got her words out.

"Riri calm down, take your time." You soothed her while rubbing her back.

"Whenever we're arguing she takes the lowest blows at me, and I don't know what I did or do to-"

You immediately cut Riri off.

"Riri, she's supposed to be your significant other, the person that's your peace. If she's going out of her way to make you feel bad about yourself then that's not your fault. Don't ever think it is." You said wholeheartedly.

All Riri could do was slightly smile at you. The real reason she chose to come to your dorm is because she knew that you would validate her feelings about the situation. With the short time shes known you she took note that you valued how she felt, and You genuinely cared about her.

"I really do appreciate that y/n." Riri said as she embraced you in a hug.

"It's the truth Riri, you should be with someone who respects you and doesn't make you feel this way." You told Riri.

"Y/n do you mind if I stay here for the night, I don't want to deal with her ass anymore for now." Riri asked.

You took Riris cheek into your hand and rubbed it gently.

"Of course you can my love" You lightly giggled as you answered.

Riri had eventually calmed down after talking for a little bit longer. When you and her laid down She nuzzled her head under your chin and sat it on your chest. You didn't position Riri to do it, she just did it. You could've sat there forever just soaking in the moment, you were on cloud 9. You couldn't understand why Riri decided to texted you and only you in her time of need but she did. She found security in you.

The next morning Riri was gone. She sent you a text before she left that read,

"I genuinely appreciate what you did for me last night y/n."

As you read it You were still high off the fact that Riri was nuzzled up under you. It was the next day but your heart was still racing a little. Riri made you feel a way no one else could. Whenever you thought about her you cheesed so hard your face started to hurt. Today's challenge was figuring out what last night Meant for you and Riri’s relationship. She had a girlfriend but it was extremely obvious that their relationship wasn't healthy. You also weren't too fond of the idea of being a rebound. You cared for Riri too much for your own good and You needed her like oxygen.

It broke my heart having to hurt Riri a little, but I hope yall enjoyed 😭💙, also this is gonna be a mini series so probably like 4 or 5 parts it really depends.

[turvi]

Little Pup

Hi, thanks for this request. You can drop more requests I hope I did justice to your idea.

Pairings: Professor Remus Lupin x Fem! Reader (platonic)

Warning: Mentions of Nudity (not sexual), injury

GIF NOT MINE CREDITS TO OWNER

Y/n bounced her legs anxiously trying to settle her nerves. She barely managed to make it to the Shrieking Shack before anyone could spot her. Today marked 2 months since she was bitten by a lycanthrope wolf who just happened to be her professor Lupin. She was nervous, she heard shrieking shack is supposed to be haunted and the darkness doesn’t help. Suddenly she heard footsteps from across the hall and picks up a wooden plank she kept around (just in case). As the sound of footsteps got louder her heartbeat started pounding faster. The person knocked softly on the door. “It’s me little pup, I come bearing gifts,” a familiar voice said. 

She quickly opened it to find Remus Lupin standing in front of her with a tired smile and a tote bag in his hand. 

She took a breath of relief and opened the door fully to let him in. 

“I brought wolfsbane potion, chocolates, your favorite snack, and medicines” he finally looked up at her to see her fiddling with her fingers. He feels so guilty he can’t even look into her eyes. If only he had been more careful. 

2 months ago 

Y/n slowly blinked open her eyes. As soon as she did that she felt pain coursing through her body. She groaned quickly getting attention from Madam Pomfrey and a very disheveled and sleep-deprived Professor Remus Lupin. 

Remus Lupin has made many mistakes both in his youth and adulthood, yet nothing made him feel more guilty than he does now. 

“Professor Lupin what are you doing here?” her voice croaked. She remembers roaming the grounds of Hogwarts for a breath of fresh air but unfortunately for her, it was a full moon night, she got lost in the forbidden forest and instantly attracted the attention of the werewolf who just happened to be Professor Lupin. She gave him a good run she got out of the forbidden forest but Remus Lupin was faster and bit her left leg. She somehow made it to the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey took her in instantly looking at her state. 

“Uh-you have been bitten by a werewolf Y/N,” he said looking disconsolate. 

“How do you know?” it looked like Y/n struck a nerve as Professor Lupin shared a knowing look with Madam Pomfrey and she left him alone to break the news. 

“Y/n a wolf bit you last night?”

She nods her head in agreement he sighs as he scoots his stool closer to her bed. “That was a werewolf, Y/n and I am afraid you might have contracted lycanthropy” 

Her breath hitched Professor Snape had just taught them about werewolves. Her palms started sweating all of a sudden she couldn’t breathe through her nose properly and her heart was pumping fast. Before it could get worse she felt her professor’s calloused hand on hers. 

“I am sorry Y/n, I didn’t mean to hurt you I can’t express how bad I feel” his voice broke and got Y/n’s attention. “Professor it’s my fault too I should not have been roaming on the grounds. 

“Well, it doesn’t matter whose fault it was. The real issue is that Y/n has contracted lycanthropy” Madam Pomfrey interrupted. 

“I’ll take care of her, I will make sure someone is there for her” Remus instantly said. 

Present 

While the two waited for their transformation they talked and got to know each other 

“Wait so you are telling me it was you we used to hear screaming in this building?” the laugh in her question brought a big smile to him 

They sat in comfortable silence when she spoke up again 

“Who used to do this for you?” she asked him genuinely, a bit concerned hoping he didn’t have to go through this alone. 

“I had my best friends James, Sirius, and Peter we used to come here through the same passage you came from,” he said with a fond smile on his face. 

Merlin, he must be missing his friends, especially during a time like this. 

“Have you told your friends?” he asked as he nibbled on the last piece of chocolate. 

“Not yet, Professor, I am scared of how they will react” she sighed rubbing her palms on her thighs 

“You can call me Remus, after everything we have been through it, seems right,” he said with a small smile. “It’s ok I will always be here for you,” he said. She could tell he meant it and gave him a bright smile.

It was true things got especially more awkward after Y/n’s first transformation when they would return to the shrieking shack and both of them found themselves without their clothes as they got ripped during their transformation. 

Remus was quick to offer his oversized shirt to her. They laugh thinking back at the situation now

“Ok, so does that mean we are best friends now?” 

He chuckled lightly at her words 

“Ohh you know what next month we could try some skincare routine together if we are besties now” 

Remus laughed at her suggestion. Y/n reminded him a lot of his best friends and it made him more protective of her. 

“Ok little pup, hold your horses we are not doing that,” he said thinking about what movie they will watch while they apply face masks.

It was like this for the two werewolves now. They found a family in each other. Y/n respected Remus a lot and Remus appreciated Y/n a lot and knew she would become the strongest witch one day with the amount of hard work she does and he looks forward to that day.

[kananjarus]

for all the haunts and homes of men // buddie // apocalypse au

chapter eleven

Here was the end of the line, the last stop at this corner of the country. A few engine cars were parked in front of metal barriers, empty and silent. Only one still fully lit. Double decker, Amtrak. Sleek and silver. A small crowd of medical personnel and suits were gathered near the front of it, talking through a radio. Movement further down, quick flashes of light. Blackout curtains were being pulled aside in several windows, faces peering out at the growing spectacle.

“Jesus,” a voice breathed next to him. Maurice had appeared out of nowhere, similarly dressed as Eddie and toting what looked like all the supplies from the ambulance in one bag. “They haven’t started getting people off the train, yet?”

It didn’t appear as if anyone had vacated even one of the cars. Eddie could see the conductor at the top most window, speaking down at the people gathered below. Through a closed window. His face ducked and blurred, hand going to mouth. Stilled. Eddie’s blood seemed to slowly freeze inside him. He was beginning to understand, but also, maybe he hadn’t realized what he was seeing before because in reality, he hadn’t really wanted to.

“I don’t think they’re going to let them off,” Eddie said eventually. From where he was standing, two train tracks and a platform away, coughing could be heard like crackling paper over the radio.

read on ao3

[kayleerowena]

✨ store open! one week only! get your haunted goods here! ✨

i've got prints! books! zines! comics! tote bags! sticker sheets! enamel pins! mysteries! ghosts! and more, maybe! who knows! quantities of most of these items are super limited, so if you want something, go grab it before it's gone.

most excitingly, this will be the first time HAUNTS, my 50+ page haunted house artbook, is available physically online outside of the original kickstarter! i'm limiting it to 20 copies to make sure i have leftovers for the conventions i'm doing later in the year.

💖 you can find the store here! 💖

it'll be up for a week (until friday july 21) or until i run out of items, whichever comes first. supporting my store goes towards helping a small lgbt artist afford rent, pay for travel costs to comic conventions, and make more cool haunted items like these. (also, in either very bad or very good timing, my phone broke yesterday, so if this sale goes well i'll be able to afford to fix that.)

reblogs are super appreciated to spread the word! thanks so much for your support, and i hope you have a lovely day!