#I keep watching it to see what he could have possibly snagged on

[jcams88]

I know a lot of other stuff happened in this but from a costume perspective HOW DID YOU EVEN MANAGE TO DO THAT?! The destruction. The FORCE at which this had to happen. It's blowing my MIND.

[dadsbongos]

virgins can have kinks too!

4.1 k words / summary - multi-chap posts of me experimenting with smut writing

warnings - piv, unprotected sex + creampies, virgin shiggy, college au, porn with minimal plot, partially clothed sex, BRIEF suicide joke, fem reader, 18+ mndi

~~~

If Tomura could go back and change any one thing in his life, it'd probably be how you two met.

Touya is messy enough to live with, now Tomura was forced to account for all the dirt-clodded shoes and unwashed hands of strangers coming into contact with his possessions. Those first hinting throbs of a headache were beginning to tease at Tomura’s pterion, and unfortunately his only access to water was blocked off by a thick weld of moist, musty athletes. Not that they intimidated Tomura, of course, they were just… an optional pain that he’d rather avoid. All their clunky terminology went over his head, and in his experience the people that Touya invites to his parties are not the inclusive type. What Tomura did understand was that they were perfectly posted up against their kitchen sink so as to be as inconvenient as possible; intending to verbally batter whatever unfortunate girl tried snagging from the fridge.

To be fair to them, though, tap water was Tomura’s backup plan. His initial objective was to sneakily steal a plastic bottle before returning to his room. All those were gone, which is sooo funny to Tomura because he’s certain that he just bought a forty pack yesterday.

Yet if Tomura were to point that out, Touya would just shift blame back onto his recluse roommate for knowingly leaving out water when he was inviting people over. So he doesn’t bother finding the stupid punk.

Similarly, he doesn’t so much as attempt either bathroom sink for water. One being annoyingly split off between the kitchen and Tomura’s room, and the other in Touya’s room. Touya’s room was a self imposed no-no for Tomura during their day-to-day, so he can’t fathom a reason to enter during the degenerate’s party. Judging by occasional thumps and ever shifting shadows beneath the gap, Tomura assumes the shared bath is in no better shape.

Right as he sets to retreat, his eyes zoom across their open floor plan -- all the way into the living room, honing in on two girls. One familiar from their shared mythology class, and the other entirely foreign. Himiko Toga is curled around the shoulders of the second girl, twirling strands of mystery girl’s hair with her long fingers.

Himiko greedily consumes all things cute, she chews them up and keeps them between her teeth to amalgamate with the next adorable target her sights set on. By the end of her life, she’ll probably puke up a cat-eared ball of pink glitter tied up with bows and proudly proclaim it to be her life’s work.

Currently, he’s watching Himiko chow down on someone that he, surprisingly, also finds cute. It's distracting.

Himiko lowers her hands until both arms are wrapped around your waist, nails burrowing into the material of your shirt. Her cheek presses against your shoulder, loose strands of blonde hair tickling up your neck.

Your neck strangely captured Tomura, then. Thick with your pulse and tissue, he wants to feel it pillow under his teeth. His lips are rough and chapped and suddenly all he can think about is how they’d feel scarring up the soft flesh of your jugular.

Himiko must be thinking that too because he watches as she turns cheek and digs her nose into the juncture of your neck.

Oh.

Tomura blinks himself free of the stupor and shakes out his hands, then wiping them dry against his pants. He didn’t think Himiko could actually hold down a relationship.

“Whatcha starin’ at, boss?”

Voice so raggedy and low, almost a staticky purr at Tomura’s back, he can instantaneously pick out who it is.

“Did you know Himiko had a girlfriend?”

“Huh?” Touya steps forward, eyes narrowed out into the crowd, “Where? I can’t see shit.”

“I told you to just get contacts, moron,” Tomura grumbles, then pointing as inconspicuous as he can (not very at all) towards their mutual friend still slithered around the unknown girl.

“Kid, that’s not her girlfriend.”

Tomura looks up at Touya, glaring through tangled, powder blue bangs, “You’re joking, right? I’m not stupid.”

“Seriously, it’s not,” Touya snickers, “Why? You interested?” when Tomura can only silently seethe up at the man, Touya grins: a sight more disturbing than reassuring, his teeth are too big and prominent, the bags under his eyes crinkle up weirdly, and it reeks of selfish glee. Touya jams out his index and middle fingers, waggling the index first, “Which one? Blondie?” then his middle, “Or new girl?”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you,” Tomura knocks down the man’s hand with a disgruntled scoff, “You’re mental.”

“We’ve been friends awhile now, no?” Touya stubbornly returns to pointing, “I’ve never seen you get worked up over a girl, it’s funny. So, which one?”

“It’s funny?”

“I’ll set you up.”

Admitting to the fact he’s got a beating heart and libido is so embarrassing, which leads to Tomura halfheartedly muttering, “If I had a thing for Himiko, I wouldn’t have told you first.”

“You’re cute,” Touya quips, reaching up to pinch Tomura’s cheek between black-painted nails -- pointedly ignoring the annoyed huff and swat resulting. He steps around Tomura to venture through the jungle of his guests, “I’m on it.”

Touya is one of the best, and worst, people that Tomura has ever met. Touya is bothersome and rude and sometimes downright narcissistic, but also headstrong. Touya decided the day his dad bought him this house that he wanted to room with the dork from his freshman year geography lecture. Touya decided that Tomura and him were best friends when Tomura helped him pass their aforementioned geography class. Touya decided last year that the pair should bleach their hair together for a laugh. Touya decided just now to be Tomura’s wingman.

His singlemindedness pairs almost lethally well with his sense of loyalty. It almost made Touya seem… admirable.

Tomura internally gags over the thought, quickly refocusing on real life where Touya is leading Himiko (who is leading her mystery friend via deathgrip on your hand) back towards the kitchen.

Himiko giggles upon seeing Tomura, “You thought we were dating?”

Nevermind. Touya is just as insufferable as he was three years ago badgering Tomura for his lecture notes.

“Be nice. You’re so touchy, I’m sure everyone thought we’re together,” mystery girl squeezes Himiko’s hand, then smiling over at Tomura, “But I’m totally single.”

Oh.

Touya’s the most direct, masterminded person Tomura’s ever met.

All that masterminding goes to utter waste if Tomura can’t wake up and relearn social cues, though. Touya jabs an elbow into Tomura’s gaunt side, ribs aching from the blow.

“Okay,” Tomura nods dumbly, swallowing the unease trapped in his throat and once again drying his hands against his sweatpants.

“If you couldn’t tell,” Touya yanks Himiko into his side and out of your hold, “So is he.”

Himiko whines and reaches out as Touya drags her off, the pair slinking somewhere deep into the crowd of thrashing, bumbling bodies.

“You don’t look much like the party type,” you hum, maybe a little unhelpfully. Tried and true method of flirting, however, is being just a tad mean. A less fluffy version of the tragic come here often? line is sure to crack this man’s icy exterior.

“My roommate,” Tomura flings a thumb over in the direction Himiko was hauled off, “He’s the delinquent, I just share the space,” suddenly the insides of his sweatpants are too hot, and so is the flimsy white shirt on his chest, “I just wanted water.”

Sweltering air beats from the center of his chest down to his ankles, even tickling up his neck. The longer you stare at him, the hotter his body feels. Scorching up his face too, burning away layers of dried, ungroomed skin to reveal every muscle twinge. Tomura wants to both comb his hair back and hide behind the strands (most of all, though, he wishes he’d bothered brushing it whatsoever before making his venture). Being so trapped between either option makes his brain short circuit until he’s, rather bashfully, tucking hair behind his ear like some blushing ingenue.

Thankfully you don’t appear troubled by the sight, instead grinning wider and even laughing at his admission (Tomura likes your smile: lips giving prominence to flattering teeth, balls of your cheeks plumping, and lashes fluttering. Definitely more lovely than Touya’s). You fold your arms, “Poor thing. You probably don’t wanna be stuck out here, huh?”

Insecurity visibly crawls along the downward twitch of your lips, your brows furrowing. Tomura stares at you, committing each divot and angle of your body to memory. By the time he’s finished, he realizes you’re waiting for him to respond.

“Yeah…” he mutters lamely, scratching at the crackled film of skin over his chelidon, then smoothing a thumb into the depression as his heart hammers up his throat -- pressing a disarray of words against his palate. They linger by his uvula, gagging him into stunned silence, until he can finally choke out an uneven, “Do you wanna go back to my room?”

As soon as the question was in the air, buzzing unattended between your faces, Tomura wanted to claw out his eyeballs. Maybe rip out his tongue, too. Such gore would surely erase any memories of his implying he thought he had a chance with you. That was far preferable to the disgust about to cross your face.

Except, that disgust never comes.

Alternatively, you nod, “Sounds fun!”

Tomura kept his area tidy enough. A stack of bowls, two cups, three empty Dr. Pepper cans, and a single Maruchan ramen cup on his desk. A lump of clothes he’s procrastinated washing carefully lines the edge of his bed. But that was all, really.

He wanted his room to be livable, and if he felt so childish as to be proud of it then he liked the sight of his uncluttered carpet. How easily he could make the trek from bed to computer to door (and, of course, the desultory detours to his bookcase or closet) without tripping on trash or abundantly strewn clothes. If he felt further inclined to childishness, Tomura even congratulated himself on maintaining a room cleaner than Touya’s.

Even despite the stacked bowls and cups on his desk and emptied soda bottles cluttering his desk legs.

None of that is sufficient anymore. He’s inspecting your face like it’ll burst open with an alien race for any sign of judgment. Cautiously, Tomura kicks a tangle of loose shirts under his bed while you’re distracted ogling his decorated shelves.

“You like Omori?” your question startles him from kicking a pair of boxers under his bed.

“Huh?”

You’re pointing at a lineup of four acrylic stands -- not the complete set, Tomura only burdened his wallet with purchasing the main party over including Basil and Mari -- on the top shelf of his bookcase, “Omori, right? I didn’t think you’d like that type of game.”

“Do I not look like I would?” he doesn’t know why that inference hurts his feelings. Shamefully, he cards his fingers through his knotted hair, slotting more locks behind his ear, “I played it a long time ago. Now I’m too busy for anything else story-driven, so I’m mostly on League. Or Overwatch if I feel like killing myself.”

“You don’t look like you like suffering, I guess is what I meant,” you draw your bottom lip up between your teeth (he hopes it doesn’t sting, he wants to kiss it better if it does), “But knowing you play Overwatch…”

“I try to avoid it,” Tomura prays his self-grooming is subtle, or at least lowkey enough for you to not notice as you continue browsing his various knick knacks and figures, “You game?”

“Eh, RPGs usually. I don’t like working with others when I play, it makes me nervous to screw up.”

“That’s cute,” he doesn’t mean to say it aloud, honestly. Two measly words small enough to slip through his pursed lips. Two words big enough to ruin his night.

“Think so?” but you’re… smiling again.

“I guess,” Tomura’s eyes shift quickly over to his pillows. Are they soft enough? Should he flip them over? What the hell is fluffing, and does it actually do anything?

“Are you usually this shy? Or am I special?”

Not often does Tomura feel truly helpless, but your incessant teasing pairs lethally with your fluttering lashes and painted lips. He wishes he were more accustomed to conversing with strangers, especially pretty strangers that were interested in him. Part of him wants to believe that if you’re attracted to him now, you’ll be stubborn enough to stick out whatever cluelessness he bumbles out -- but he doesn’t. He simply cannot bring himself to buy that.

“You’re making me nervous, like I’m about to puke.”

“Flattering,” you join Tomura on his bed, soft knee nudging his, “I hope you don’t. It’d kinda ruin the mood.”

He’s terribly unable to keep the casanova impersonation up, though, “What mood?”

You throw your head back and laugh. Hearty and full and so mortifying for him, worse are your next words, “You know why people go into private rooms at parties, right?”

“Uhh…”

“You do. I do, too. That’s why I came back here, you know? If you only wanna talk, that’s fine -- you’re fun to just talk to! But I came back here ‘cuz I want to have sex with you, if you want to, too.”

Tomura can feel that dreaded heartbeat climbing up his chest and into his gullet again.

“You’re forward…”

You shrug, “I know what I want.”

Tomura claws at his sweatpants, chest aching and fingers numb from how your eyes are zeroed on him. He nods slowly, racketing another giggle from your chest -- you lean closer, your hand brushes his.

“Yeah?” you coax a hand around Tomura’s far shoulder, swiveling him to face you.

A rattle and hum from his ceiling fan gurgles the sound of his reply, you hate it.

From the shape of his lips, you can make out his agreement. With no specific intent and only a general sense of lust to guide him, Tomura leans into your touch. Snatching his hands, you shuffle his palms under your shirt, sifting the flesh up your warm belly until they’re cupping your tits. He squeezes blindly, teetering closer along his mattress. Finally, you strip off your top -- then greedily going for Tomura’s as well. He contently allows it, even lifting his arms to grant the removal.

“You’re so pretty,” Tomura noses at your neck, hot puffs of air warming your skin, “Can’t believe you’re actually here.”

His hands are soft from a lax life, if slightly clammy with nerves, and they feel nice squeezing around your hips. Tomura dips his pelvis downward, keeping your thighs scooped snug around him -- bonus for the momentary relief of pressure against his aching groin. His fingers bow beneath the waistband of your skirt until your own are tethering his in place.

“Can I leave the skirt on?” your thighs tighten around Tomura’s slim waist, you tilt your head so your soft lips press against his cheek, “Its kinda hot. To me.”

Tomura rolls his shoulders, whole body shuddering at the request. He nods with clenched eyes, digging his nails into your skin -- he likes your idea more than he can put into words (granted, his tongue may as well be superglued to his teeth right now).

“I can do that,” he manages to scrape out, drawing his fingers down the bunched material of your skirt and up your thighs, “Can I take these off?”

“Please,” you cant your hips up for Tomura to yank off your panties, he bundles them in one hand and stows the other where the material once laid. You swear you hear him whimper at the contact.

His fingers dance up your slit, gentle massaging that intensifies upon introduction of his thumb on your clit. Tomura drops your underwear off the side of his bed and uses the freed palm to work off his sweatpants, but just before he can snap the drawstring -- he stops completely.

“Wait,” he pants, “Hang on. Don’t move.”

Tomura runs out like he’s caught fire, slamming his bedroom door shut behind him and leaving you splayed on his mattress.

He returns with a fist curled around something, and determination written in the lines of his face. Replacing himself between your thighs, Tomura hides the contents in his hand under the pillow beneath you. Before you can shoot any questions, he’s lifting your skirt and lowering his chest to the bed.

As if he can sense the curiosity burning away your mood, Tomura hurriedly buries his face in your cunt.

One gasp is stuttered short by another, Tomura flicks his tongue inside you with a groan. Pulling back only to spit on your clit, the liquid bubbling down your slit until it catches on his prodding fingertips -- your thighs jolt around his shoulders at the act. Middle finger worming into you with ease, Tomura’s burdened by the vestige of Touya’s hand on his shoulder and husks into his ear.

Yeah, condoms are in the top drawer. You need advice?

He’d been uneasy initially, nodding uncertainly, but Tomura’s grateful now.

Just as he’d been instructed, Tomura curls his middle finger and screws the pad up until- your knee knocks into his skull and he keens at the rough treatment.

“S-sorry,” you stammer out, chest arching up.

Bypassing your apology, Tomura flattens his tongue on your clit and slithers a second finger inside you. Surely by tomorrow, his arm will be sore with the work he’s pushing through, but he’s equally sure it’s worth it as you clamp around him and seize.

Strumming your gspot in time with your clit, Tomura loses himself in the thought of how your snatch would feel around his cock -- grinding against the marshmallow mattress below to relieve the pressure. Your only relief is how he greedily sucks your clit; he lets you grab his hair with both hands and roughly tug him to and fro. He lets you fuck his face, eats it up in earnest.

Prying your thighs back from his ears, Tomura shoves his sweatpants down and reaches under your head. Pulling back a foil square that crinkles with each nervous shake of his hand. Tomura’s plain black boxers soon crash to the floor as well.

“Hey,” your voice pipes up meekly, a little slurred after your orgasm. Drowsy eyes half-lidded and even sweeter on him, “Can you, uh…”

Tomura’s burning hot, flushed and vaguely sticky; bangs slickened against his face with sweat and cum. His breathlessness axiomatic of how little composure he could maintain, “What?”

“Don’t…” a shyness that now seems bizarre overtakes you, your fingers curl into his palm and unfurl the condom from his grasp, “You shouldn’t… I wanna feel you.”

He blinks down at you vapidly. So stupidly blank he's immediately ashamed of himself for blanching at your plea.

“You want it too, right?” you reach up and paw at Tomura's shoulders, “You wanna fuck me raw?”

“Uh-huh,” again dumb.

Tomura spares that response no reconsideration, instead preoccupied by holding your thighs open to nudge his cock into you. His tip bobs at your clit in the first few jerks, but his thinly construed patience is rewarded on the third attempt. You tug on his hair as Tomura humps into your sex.

He whines upon feeling that first squeeze and suck of entering your cunt, his pelvis itching up against your clit with every thrust. Blunt nails carve into the fat of your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer -- Tomura’s cock carves deep into your gut, hot and heavy. Chapped lips sear up the length of your neck, his chest squashing against yours, he teeths at the lump of your pulse and lathes the thumping point with his tongue. Budding his knees right beneath your ass, Tomura burdens the tops of his thighs against yours. Then wrapping your waist with both arms, continuing to suck your soft skin between his teeth.

Tomura gasps as the warmth of your hands finds his back, rolling lower and lower until you’re actively pushing him closer. He likes this -- loves it, even. He’s horrified to know he could’ve been having sex his entire college career and simply didn’t.

He’s further horrified that perhaps he’ll never have sex again when you leave (but mostly, he’s finding that he just doesn’t want you to leave).

“Be my girlfriend,” delirious, he’s babbling into your ear, whining and shuttering and smothering your body with his, “Be my girlfriend…! Wanna fuck you every day-- need you every day. So fucking warm and soft, all perfect for my cock,” Tomura pulls up from your neck to kiss the thin stretch of skin over your collarbones and treading to your breasts, “Like you’re made for taking it.”

What you want is to have the mental cognition to respond to him kindly, but what you have is a mushy brain and a flourishing climax scorching through your body. Grey matter melting into the bowl of your skull as Tomura kisses and pants into your tits.

“Tomu’-!” is all you can manage to squeal, nails digging jagged red lines down the man’s back.

“You cumming?” he reaches between your bodies to incise the pads of his fingers across your sodden clit.

A final push into your sensitive body, the attention spiking your head back into his pillow. Faintly, through the rush of dopamine pumping through your extremities to where your hanging mouth is expelling wanton wails of Tomu’! and yes, God! and cumming!, you can hear Tomura. You can hear him chuckling low and deep with ecstasy, “So pretty when you cum. Squeezing me so tight, too. You like me that much?”

He whines unexpectedly, wrenching both hands to your hips and branding the imprint of his calloused palms there.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” he grits his teeth, scratchy throat puking up pulpy, disjointed moans of your name and fuck, fuck fucks, “I’m gonna cum,” he latches onto your tit, muffling his pathetic mewls as your legs lock him in your cunt (trembly and weak as they may be), “Cumming, cumming- ! Fuck!”

Stilling above you, Tomura chokes out soft breaths and murmurs of appreciation as he cums. Sincerely thanking you as his spend paints your insides. Collapsing on you once his balls are empty. Tomura barely has the wherewithal to roll onto his side in order to avoid overheating you under him.

A rattle and hum from his ceiling fan regains your attention, but this time it doesn’t seem too bad. You can’t find yourself to be very annoyed, even when the music pumping from outside vibrates Tomura’s bedroom door. Above those sounds, the one you appreciate most is the soft pelting of Tomura’s breath against your neck; damp with a mixture of sweat and his saliva, and sore from his incessant teething.

“Did you mean it?” you’re probably being mean, asking such a layered question so immediately after his release.

“About?” his voice is raggedy, sharp to a bladepoint -- if you couldn’t see the dazed, awestruck film over his lidded eyes, you’d mistake him as trying to be rude.

“Me being your girlfriend. Did you actually mean that? Or did your dick have the braincell?”

“Oh,” Tomura pushes onto his elbows, arms shaking, his hair drops over his face and this time you’re the one to brush it behind his ear. Despite cumming in you minutes ago, he blushes at the gesture and looks at your bruising neck rather than your eyes, “I guess. I don’t have a car, so I can’t drive you around for dates.”

“I can take the bus, you know,” you laugh at how Tomura’s face suddenly sours at your words.

“As if I’d let my girlfriend take the bus by herself. Do you know how many freaks go on that thing?”

“‘Cuz you’d know.”

“Yeah, I’m one of them,” the giddiness rising in his chest over your giggling at his jab quickly overtakes his face, cheeks burning with a proud smile. Tomura hides his face in your neck, “I guess it’s up to you.”

“It's up to me if you were serious or not?”

Quietly, he hums, then rasps out something you could construe as a joke if you didn’t care so much about how he felt, “I only open to begging in the sheets. Being desperate to date the first girl I fuck is so pathetic.”

Which is so insane to you because you met this man only a few hours ago.

A broiling affection that builds between the slats of your ribs, bricking off your lungs and heart just to cook them up hot and gooey and primed for the man on your chest. At least Tomura’s burgeoning crush could be reasoned away with the fact he’s a recent ex-virgin (not like you, with visitors running rarer than Tanzanite).

Still fluttery and alight with the wash of your orgasm, you give your heart the braincell and nod sluggishly, “Yeah. I want you to be serious.”

Decidedly, you spare no mind how you two barely know each other.

[randomstoryenjoyer]

Hey I love your stories and your 'white lily's fall' gave me an idea for a request...for a story!

Imagine a witch (y/n) at first baked cookies to try to make a friend but as they kept running away...it gave y/n an idea! If they run away...why not make a track and make em race? So now y/n bakes them to either run a normal race or an obstacle course race to the window to escape amd y/n even put something under their window to cushion their fall so they wouldn't crumble and can simply run out to join the cookie world! Also the obstacles are harmless and not deadly like if they fail an obstacle, they just land on something soft and can walk over to some stairs or a ladder and try again! Ofcourse the finish line is the window!

Oh and whenever they race, y/n chooses one cookie to cheer on as they sit to the side, watching, and hopes that said cookie wins the race...again for entertainment! Maybe they even pretend to be a racing announcer as they race!

And imagine if other cookies found out...like, one possible idea is DE flying along, plotting against the witches when they suddenly hear hearing like: "AAAAAND RED ICING COOKIE MANAGED TO JUMP OVER THAT MASSIVE GAP! SO IMPRESSIVE! THE CROWD IS GOING WILD!" followed by y/n trying to impersonate a crowd cheering like crazy! So DE goes to investigate aaaaand finds Y/n racing cookies instead of eating them! Or maybe some other cookie like gingerbrave finds them! Just some ideas but can't wait to see what you come up with for this concept and curious what ideas you'll have lol!

Possible to add on, putting this possible add on here incase ya wanna add it: Y/n also keeps track of the races and the winners in a book and also timed it to see which cookie they've baked is the fastest and if a cookie read the book, they'll know that y/n raced cookies LOTS of times!

The Witch’s game

Rugelach Cookie’s breath hitched as they swerved left to right, their little legs scuttering as fast as they ever had before… he was so close to the end… all that was left was to…

”AAAAAND TRAGEDY STRIKES! RUGELACH COOKIE HAS FALLEN DOWN! HERE COMES COCONUT FLAKE COOKIE TO SNAG THE WIN!”

With the finish line crossed and window reached, Coconut Flake Cookie stood proud and delighted as he received the witch’s praise, eventually jumping out the window. Rugelach Cookie was left to get back up and head back to his place, however, if one looked closely, they could see that he was hiding a giddy smile…

———————————————————————

Due to being a witch, your life consisted mostly of isolation, except for the odd meeting with other fellow witches here and there. Thus, you came up with the idea of creating your own friends by baking cookies to give life to! It was an easy goal to achieve… if not for the fact that every cookie you baked always ran away and jumped out the window.

This kept going for multiple baking sessions, each one making you more annoyed when the results showed no sign of changing. Eventually though, it began to make sense to you. No matter their size or origins, living cookies were still as much as individuals as anybody else, little creatures with a desire to leave the nest and live a life of their own, instead of being stuck inside a witch’s kitchen with a giant being looming over them. It was just something you had to accept.

This led to a new idea develop: if they insisted on running, why not put them through a race? From then on, your lair became a small race arena. All you needed to set up was a long path that led to the window as the finish lane, and then fill it with many different types of (non-lethal) obstacles for each race. The first cookie to reach the window would have the prize of being able to jump out of it and live in the outside world! You didn’t actually know what the cookies did in the outside world, but it didn’t really bother you.

Between races, the cookies you baked would get their own resting village inside your lair, where they could all gather around and interact with one another, most conversations being about what laid outside the windows of your lair… what existed below the glimmering moon and stars they saw every night…

As for you, you decided to make the most out of your idea, sitting to the side during the races and choosing a specific cookie to cheer on, acting like a wild crowd. The first contestant cookies you baked were a bit confused at your odd actions, but eventually began to even enjoy them.

Oh, enjoy them they eventually did. It soon got to the point where the racing cookies would begin getting weirded out if you didn’t act like a crowd going wild over the contestants. Your cheers and howls of excitement directed at them soon became the main motivation for being willing to take part in the races, to the point that they sometimes even forgot what they even were originally racing for!

Slowly but surely, talks amongst the cookies every night in the resting village shifted from wonders about the outside world to gushing over the the witch in the audience seats, mostly led by the very first racing cookies that you had baked. More recently baked cookies were swift to join the talks about you, but it was the older ones who truly prided themselves knowing the most about the witch who baked them.

Many cookies soon began seeing the races in a different light: why would they want to go to the outside world when they had you and your praises in this cozy home? Surely staying with you wouldn’t be that bad as originally thought!

During these last few days, you’ve started noticing how… clumsy some of the cookies were during the race. A bit slow of slow running, a few of them missing a some.simple jumps, and taking extra long to get back to the racetrack once they failed an obstacle… and the numbers of the cookies doing it increased day by day. Despite the fact that it opened up a bigger chance for cheers and announcements from your audience stand, it still felt a bit suspiciously random.

If only you knew just how much your presence and cheers meant to your cookies at this point…

However, these didn’t end up being the only cookies that were aware of your races, as new ones would soon know about you…

———————————————————————

Dark Enchantress Cookie was busy scouting out the area with her cake witch carrying her as always, looking for more places to build her cake army in while the rest of the cookies of darkness were busy with her other demands, when she suddenly heard a loud cheer from not too far away.

Her instincts very much telling her that this voice she heard was a dreadful witch, she made her way to the source of the sound a fast as she possibly could, expecting to see what she had seen during the fateful night of the witches.

Instead, all she found was a witch… watching cookies run from one place to another?

She stood there, just watching the scene unfold. The excited look on the cookie’s faces, the enthusiasm of the witch, the complete lack of any cruelty of mischievousness on the witch’s voice and actions. It didn’t make any sense to her at all. Witches weren’t like this. They weren’t meant to be! She saw it all in the night of the witches!

She remained still for so long that her cake witch had began to stare at her with slight discomfort, wondering why its master had gone stiff for such a long time.

Dark Enchantress Cookie remained quiet within her mixed thoughts. Seeing cookies who weren’t baked with the intention to be eaten seemed to have rattled her mind a bit. After all, her view on the witch’s uses for cookies was the whole reason she had become who she was. But now, her initial plans for Earthbread seemed to have a small flaw in it. Unprepared for this extra factor in her equation

Leaving the area before she got any more hooked onto the ongoing scene, Dark Enchantress Cookie planned to order her subordinates to come visit in this place frequently… and to inform her all they find out about you specifically.

———————————————————————

With sightings of the cookies of darkness having been reported around this area, Gingerbrave had decided to come check this place out, trying to find out what the COD’s plans in this area were.

What he didn’t expect to run into however, was the lair of a witch! His mind already bringing him flashbacks of his very first living moments, he felt tempted to just run away instantly, and yet, something in his mind kept telling him to explore this new landmark. The vibe he got from this place was… unexpected, for lack of a better word.

Imagine his surprise when, instead of seeing the worst kind of cookie torture devices or other scariest stuff that he could think of, the first thing he saw was a small village full of many cookies who were all excitedly discussing something! He was too far to hear them properly, but judging from all the chatter, it was clear they were all discussing about the same thing.

Deciding to keep exploring, he’d carry on sneaking, now laying his eyes upon every nook and cranny of his surroundings, until he jumped in surprised at the sudden loud voice:

“GOOD MORNING, COMPETITORS! WHO’S READY FOR THE NEXT RACE?!”

Peeking out of cover, Gingerbrave’s eyes widened as he took in the view. Many of the cookies from the small resting village were all lining up to the race track, all cheering and looking up at the witch that had announced the start of the race.

Once it began, his eyes almost sparkled when he saw it all. All the cookies running, looking like they were having the time of their lives, and the loud cheers you were giving towards the racing cookies, it almost made him feel a bit sad and jealous that he wasn’t a part of it…

Too distracted by the ongoing event, Gingerbrave accidentally knocked into a book that fell down in front of him and opened. Curious by your handwriting on it, he skimmed a few pages and realised that this book recorded all the races you had ever had… you’ve been doing this for a long time! And he and the rest of his fellow cookies of Earthbread weren’t aware of you? The very first nice witch in probably forever?

Beginning to see this place in a new light, he began coming up with a plan to tell his friends about this new discovery… and possibly to sneak into your lair again and maybe try to disguise as your racer cookies too… all for the chance of getting to participate in on the fun, and receiving your wonderful cheers too…

Now you have two groups of cookies sneaking into your races, trying to blend themselves in as a part of the cookies you baked. They were all confident you wouldn’t notice the difference.

You did.

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Spider and Bats Snippets 2

[0.] [1.]

I headcanon Spider!(Y/N) meets Clark/Superman on accident before Batman does.

Just, imagine. Your heading to a part time job, super excited about it! Get on the bus, and wait... Then fall asleep..

The bus driver kicks you out at the Mertropolis bus station. Not good! You don't have enough for a ticket back to Gotham so you managed to get a part-time job at The Daily Planet, as the coffee runner! Simple enough?

Bumping into a meek Clark Kent, who is shyly thanking you for his cup of joe'. Then you, eagerly wanting a new friend in a strange enviorment, (again), asking about what he's writing.

"Wow Kent, didn't expect you to snag the new girl."

Lois teased light-heartedly. "Oh, ha-ha it's nothing like that. They're a good friend."

He shrugs it off as Lois shakes her head. "Sheesh, a lot of fella's make a LOT of trouble with that word. Good luck Smallsville."

Blinking in confusion, you were suprised she didn't notice you as you walk up beside him. "Huh... Wait, you think were good friends!?" You beam in awe at Clark, happily spinning around his desk chair. "Clark! You should of said something sooner!"

You let go, now thoughtful. "Hmmm, we should do friendship bracelets then.. I mean, I did make one with another friend of mine.. OH! I got an' idea-" "-Guh.. I-I think I.. Need to rain check.."

"Hm? What's wrong? You look dizy... Vomit-y."

I know there's different versions of how Batman met Superman. Personally, I perfer The Animated Series Ver!

I would like to think, Robin and Nightwing asked her to get Superman's autograph as a casual comment if Spider(Y/N) went to Mertropolis.

So during her "stay" at the other city, she'd often patrol and help a bit when she could.

Would totally meet Supes' on acident.

"Wow! Hello! Why is your city so much cleaner? I like your cape! Reminds me of Miguel-!" You try to descalate the situation.

You happily greet him, babbling as your buddy glared at you. You shrug at Batman's gaze, giving him a slight push. Herding him close to your side incase of any... Bad, course of action, between you and the supposed "Man of Steel".

Superman paused at the greeting, after thrown into a wall. He expected more hostily from you as well, since he read most crime-fighters were, due to the Gotham Gazette. Yet you seemed more occupied with keeping the Batman away from HIM.

Using his x-ray vision, he peaked underneath your masks.

"Bruce Wayne..." He mumbled under his breath as Batman shoved you to the side. Glaring at the super-powered male, "You peeked.."

"Hm? He did what?" You weren't paying attention, more focused on the destruction and damage. Frowning worriedly, knowung your "unexpected vaction" would meet it's end.

Superman The Animated Series: Season 1 Ep 16 - World's Finest Part 1

I can see Spider!(Y/N) being pen-pals with lot's of heros and vigilantes. Possibly even anti-heros and villians?

Carefully web-shooting the civillians away, you keep squint as you watch them dance in sync. Slightly envious, before shooting a glance at Batman.

He collapsed as groups of Music Meisters pawns held him down. Grunting as he tried to move away. You used your web to toss them away quickly. Huffing as you glanced down at your comrade.

Even with the ear-plugs, you couldn't help it!

As if spotlight shone on your cue, you sang encouragingly. Smiling underneath your mask, you hold out a hand to him. He grasps it as you slowly pull him up.

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ."And you can rise above...!" ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

The Brave and the Bold Season 1 Episode 25 Mayhem of the Music Meister!

We all know that THEE Batman has a certain type.

But this is for fun, so, (。ゝ(ェ)・)-☆

Overall, I stated perviously, it's more a comedic pairing that has many set-ups to be serious.

Watching Catwoman flee once more, you walk to Bat's side. Standing beside him politely, before.. Slowly... Reaching out your hand to his. Holding it firmly with no caution.

The vigilante glares at the action, yet you don't let up as he tries to shake your hand away.

You giggle as you watch your arm swing with his, your laughter becoming louder as he finally gave in.

Batfam relationship depends on if Spider!(Y/N) came before or after the Batfam was formed.

Personally, I perfer it before. I feel like it would show growth in Bat's and Spiders dynamic.

I sorta wanna explore it, but if ya'll got ideas Im open to it.

-

{Yay! Another self-indulg work! Lol. I was inspired once again, I really just love that more people are intrested in the idea than just myself! Horray! Comments, art, reblogs are always wanted! This is purely for fun! If anyone gets the easter egg I put, let me know!}

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: back again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You enter your apartment. It doesn’t really feel like yours anymore. That man, that gargantuan invader, has tainted your safe space. You keep your head down as you brush by Sy. He reaches to squeeze your wrist and promptly lets you go. 

You cringe as you march stiffly down the entryway. 

“Thank you, officers,” he says, “sorry to trouble ya like this. You have a good one.” 

“You too, sir,” one responds, “hopefully your homecoming gets a bit warmer.” 

The door shuts and you flinch. You stop in the living room, shoulders sloped, head down. You can’t stop the shaking. You hear him coming as Aika sits obediently in the corner. You glance at the dog, you don’t think she can help, you don’t know that she would. She’s loyal to her owner. 

Sy stalks into the front room as you cower, wring your hands in front of your chest. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you watch his shadow as he fumes and paces around. He exhales, small mutters you can’t discern. Circling around and around then suddenly stomping towards you. 

You whimper and your eyes flick up as you take a step back, eyes watery with fear. He stops, just an inch away, chest puffing with fury. You bat your lashes as you wait, for what, you don’t know. For him to do something, anything. 

“How could you hurt me like that, sweetie?” He hisses. 

“I... don’t know--” 

“You hide from me. Scare me, like that?” His voice rises, quaking as you hear him struggling to control it, “call the f—the cops?” 

He can’t keep his voice from booming. He’s so loud. Like thunder crashing down around you. 

“After all I did for you, you treat me like a monster. Actin’ all scared like I’d ever hurt you!” He snarls, “I wouldn’t, sweetie, and you know it. What did I ever do to make you think that, huh?” He starts to pace again, throwing his hands out as he rants, “I told you—I'm not a bad man! I’m not! I wouldn’t hurt you!” He barks as Aika puts her head down, eyes on her own, “but you hurt me. You. Hurt. Me.” 

He growls and his nostrils flare as he comes back around it front of you. You peek at him from beneath tear-webbed lashes. Your heart thrums in your ears and your chest thumps. He raises his hand and you wince as he smacks himself in the head. You cry out in horror as he does it again, each time harder than the last as he continues his angry prowl. 

“Sy!” You squawk. 

He snarls again and beats himself with both hands, “maybe I deserve it, huh? This is what you want. For me to hurt.” 

“No, I--” you heave as a sob bubbles up your throat. You don’t like violence. You never wanted this. You just want him gone. To be left alone. 

He roars and throws his fist around, hitting the flower lamp off the end table. It flies off and the cord snags, sending it shattering to the floor. You whine and put your knuckles to your lips, horrified as he continues his fit. He grabs the table next, hurling it with one hand as if it weighs nothing. The draw slips out and the continues scatter. 

He spins again, puffing and panting, his face red and furious. He storms towards the opposite wall and before you can understand what’s happening, he bashes his face against it. He staggers back, grips his head and blindly stumbles around. 

You stand, dumbfounded, as he falls onto the couch. He sits and hangs his head, gripping it between his large hands. He breathes loudly as he leans his elbows on his knees. Your tears spill out as you hug yourself and sniffle. 

You babble as you feel something against your leg. You look down as Aika nuzzles against you. You reach down to touch her snout. She licks your palm and you turn your attention back to Sy. You’ve never witnessed anything like that. You never ever wanted to hurt him. You pity him more than anything, he seems so lost. 

You suck in a breath and swipe the wetness from your cheeks. You drag your foot forward as Aika stays close. You back up and go through to the kitchen. You take a clean dishcloth from the drawer and wet it under the faucet. You’re buzzing with adrenaline. You don’t know what you’re doing. 

You cross the room to Sy as his breaths huff in and out. You can see the blood on his forehead as he nears. You hesitate, furling and unfurling your fingers before you touch his muscled shoulder. 

“Sy,” you say softly. 

He ignores you, fingertips curling into his skull, “so stupid...” you make out the words under his breath. 

You squeeze him as Aika pokes her head under his arms and noses him from below. He sits up and scratches her head. He wobbles as his foggy eyes come into focus. He looks at you, a gash on his forehead and another across the bridge of his nose. You try not to react as you offer the wet cloth. 

He considers it and takes it with a sigh. He dabs at the blood on his face as he watches you. You bring your palms together, rubbing them nervously, as you bounce on your feet. 

“Thanks,” he mutters as Aika nudges his hand for more pets. He looks between you and the dog, “I-- I’m sorry. I let you down. Both of you.” 

He stands up and you back away, folding your hands over your chest as you make yourself small. He holds the cloth against his nose and grunts. He scowls and turns away. You don’t move as he marches to the bathroom. The door snaps shut just as Aika reaches it. You hear the lock click. 

You bite your lip and slowly glance towards the entry way. You stare. You could try again but to what end. Blair wouldn’t let you back in after you brought that chaos into her world and the police won’t do anything more than blame you again. 

Maybe it is your fault. Sy means well... 

No, no! He doesn’t belong there. This is your life.  

Aika’s paws pad down the hall and she sits by the door. She knows what you’re thinking it seems. Doesn’t matter, you have nowhere to go and no one to go to. 

You pivot carefully, searching for a distraction. What can you do now? You’re too addled to sit down and work or even hide away in the bedroom under the covers. You walk a circle around the room and stop yourself. You look at the wall, a smear of blood and a dent left by his collision. 

You return to the kitchen and grab a paper towel. You come back to wipe away blood. When you get most of it out, you start to clean up the rest of the mess. The lamp is broken. You put the shards in a box and leave it by the door. Then you gather up the random pens and notebook and right the table before tucking it all back in the drawer. 

As you stand up, you hear another click. You peer over as Sy appears. His shirt is gone. The cuts on his face are no longer bleeding but his eyes are still blazing. You gulp as his jaw tenses. 

“I’m sorry I broke your lamp,” he utters dully. 

You wet your lips with your tongue, “Do you want some tylenol?” 

His eyebrows arch and his cheek ticks. He nods slowly, “yes, sweetie.” 

You try to smile and your mouth quivers. You retreat and go to fetch the bottle of pills and some water. When you come back, he’s on the couch again.  

“Head sure does hurt,” he says as he accepts the glass and the tablets. 

You hum and nod. He throws back the pills and drains half the glass. He set the cup down and leans back, once more holding his head. 

“Do you think... maybe you should see a doctor?” You suggest. 

“I’m fine,” he growls, “got worse over in the sh—in the war.” 

You scrunch up your lips and twiddle your fingers. He drops his hands and brings his head straight. You fidget as he takes you in, his eyes narrow and his expression pained. He waves you closer, “come here.” 

You stop moving. You’re completely still as you stare him. His brow lowers dangerously. You near him reluctantly, wary of riling him again. 

“I’m sorry I yelled, sweetie,” he takes your hand and leans forward to kiss your knuckles, “I was worked up. I thought—I was crazy. I thought I lost you, you know? But I get it. You wanted to see your friend and she... she put her nose in our business and called in the cops, huh? Jealous, I bet.” 

You blanch. That’s not the truth. That isn’t what happened at all. You won’t argue. 

“Yeah,” you let him cling to your hand, “I think she was just worried because she didn’t recognise you. I’m... I’m sorry.” 

He looks up at you and his lips curve, “I know you’re sorry, sweetie,” he tugs on you, “but we’re all good now, aren’t we? I got you, you got me, everything’s as it should be.” 

He moves you and you let him. You know better than to break the illusion again. He angles you onto his lap and your body locks up. He hugs you to him, a hand on your leg, his other arm across your back. He purrs as he holds you close, leaning back as the tension seeps from him. 

“Just like this, sug, me and you,” he grits. 

🧸

You escape Sy’s embrace for the excuse of making breakfast. The task helps you keep your fears at bay though his presence looms just on the other side of the wall. Your helplessness is starting to feel like acceptance as the last of your denial dissipates. This is real. You are trapped. 

You plate up a heaping plate of bacon and eggs. You scrape butter onto toast and bring it out to the table. You teethe your lip as you stand in the archway of the front room. 

“Food’s ready, Sy,” you squeak. 

He sits up and groans as he stretches. He stands, towering over you as he looks even broader without his shirt. Somehow you keep forgetting how big he really is. 

He crosses the room and you scurry back to the kitchen. You hear him pull the chair out as you grab your leftover french toast and bring it out. You’re not very hungry, in fact you feel sick to your stomach. Still, you know you have to play along. 

That sound, the one of his head hitting the plaster, keeps replaying in your head. You hate it. As much as he scares you, as much as he’s a stranger, you don’t want to be the reason he’s hurt. You stare at your plate glumly as you cut into the cold eggy bread. 

“Thank you, sweetie,” he undercuts your gloom with his bright tone, “sure smells good.” 

You glance up, poking at the toast with your fork, “sorry, all I had was turkey bacon.” 

“S’all good,” he tears a strip in half and takes a bite. 

You muster a smile and drop your gaze back to your food. You take a bite of the stale, syrupy bread. You chew mechanically, bite by bite, and choke it all down. You think of how he might react if you let the food go to waste. He paid for it after all. At least the berries add a bit of flavour. 

“You should make a video today,” he says abruptly. 

Your eyes flick up and you blink, “oh, uh, maybe not today--” 

“Your followers will be wanting to check in, won’t they? You can’t leave them hanging.” 

“Um, well, I’ll think about it later---” 

“You know, sweetie, like I said, you got me through some tough days. You’re all I had out there. Who knows, maybe there’s others who feel the same, you know?” He scoops up eggs on his fork and hovers them over the plate, “and you’re special. The world needs more of you.” 

“Thanks, er, I’m just... tired is all.” 

“Well, you wouldn’t be so tired if you hadn’t snuck out to the couch, huh?” He challenges. 

You’re surprised by the admonishment. You wince and give a shrug, “yeah, I guess--” 

“I could help ya with the video. We could do something fun. Maybe... we could go for a walk with Aika. She loves the wilderness. Specially when there aren’t bombs hidin’.” 

You look down guiltily. You don’t blame him for wanting out of his old life. For being so excited to be away from the chaos. And you feel worse because you’ve taken all you have for granted. Each time he talks, he reminds you of your ignorance. 

“I guess... that sounds nice,” you sniff. 

“Sounds perfect to me,” he swallows his mouthful, “walking around with my girls, showing ‘em off.” He grins, “couldn’t ask for anything more.” 

[ronearoundblindly]

No Promises (2)

Lloyd Hansen x rival assassin!Reader

Don't Be Blue, Bunny Boy (see previous or LH Masterlist)

Summary: Lloyd underestimates how dangerous you are when he finds you wrapped like a gift in his hotel room.

Warnings for smut, but it's Lloyd so there's a knife, a gun, name-calling, cursing, drugging, dubcon due to somno, two a**holes in competition, unprotected sex (honestly, just never do anything Lloyd would do, okay? great. excellent. good chat), and possibly the best banter I've ever written gdi. Darkfic...but, like, funny??? For the love of everything, MINORS DNI. I have plenty else for you on my Light Masterlist, but this is not for you! WC 2k 🫣

*This CT 2024 Challenge work can be read completely out-of-context from the rest of the mini-series (which isn't even written yet anyway, lalalahhhh).

It’s bad enough you took the keycard off that fat fuck of a target first, but failing to follow you smacks Lloyd’s ego in just the wrong way. By the time he gets back to his luxurious hotel room, he’s fuming and itching to shoot something. You don’t need to be a mind-reader to know this; the man is still a man, after all, no matter how trained and controlled he thinks he is.

That’s why you’re here, trussed up in a sapphire blue bodysuit, smirking at the irritation radiating off of your rival as his eyes rake the length of your mostly-bare figure.

“Darling,” you burst, posing like a ‘50s housewife by the armchair, playful and sickeningly sweet. “You’re home! I was so worried.”

Anger quivers his lip coat till he vaguely resembles a pouting porcupine. God, you hate mustaches. You’re willing to bet—if you really put your back into it—you could hump his face with such friction, it’d rub him smooth. There are less-worthwhile endeavors that you’ve completely only today. Why not experiment?

“You have some fucking nerve, bitch.”

Lloyd keeps his steps forward into the room slow and casual, though his ire is obvious. He stops halfway across the carpet, unzips his leather jacket, and tosses it onto the foot of the bed.

He seems surprised when you strut over without hesitation; he hasn’t handed over any weapons, but you haven’t asked for a reason. Lloyd’s reputation is cocky, commanding, and curious—in that order—so he won’t start speculating till it’s too late.

Indeed, what possible harm could you inflict wearing this lil’ ol’ thing, huh?

As you get closer, his hand reaches out instinctually.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you tsk in warning. “If you rip my lace, I will gut you like a fish. Understood?”

“Can’t make any promises, but…”

Lloyd, undeterred, clamps his hand between your legs and runs a finger through your folds, proving the crotchless lingerie isn’t in danger of typical snags.

The pad of his digit is rough and teasing.

“I think we can work with that,” he growls.

Oh yes, he’s definitely, perfectly, and predictably cocky. What fun you’ll have.

You make a show of gasping when he starts dipping two fingers into your heat, rolling your head as if truly undone by the minimal effort, and wait for him to watch his own ministrations, distracted.

Then you strike.

You grab his wrist, twisting harshly, yanking the arm behind him, straddling his shoulders so your legs pinch over his neck, and he turns slightly to nip at your thigh. You’re not surprised he still thinks he’ll win.

His steely eye winks as he looks up.

“Bet I can make you cum first.”

A dramatic sigh escapes you. You release his arm to sensually smooth your palm down his body, bending to whisper, “that implies I give a shit if you come at all.”

You fling yourself backwards, using the momentum to catapult him over you and into the side of the bed.

The mustache emphasizes his sneer when Lloyd pushes up on an elbow.

“I, too, like using a firm hand when breaking bitches’ spirits,” he mutters, reaching for his switchblade which you present instead, wiggling it in your hand with a grin.

“Oh, bunny boy, were you too firm to notice my gentle caress?” You deftly unlatch and expose the knife’s edge. “Now, strip.”

You tick the blade quickly for effect.

“Show me some skin so I can mark my two points so far. I know how you love to keep score.”

Lloyd rights himself, peeling his black turtleneck over his head and smoothing his hair into place calmly. “I can kill you just as easily naked as I can clothed.”

“Of course, cutie pie, and I’m counting on many little deaths.” You look at the knife in your hand, concerned. “Please tell me this isn’t the biggest weapon you're packing, or I’ll be so disappointed.”

He’s smug while unbuckling his belt and shucking off his pants. Lloyd Hansen now proudly stands stark nude.

You let your eyes go comically wide, but then your brow furrows and you shrug.

“You’re welcome to keep talking while I sit on your face, but otherwise… I’m unimpressed.”

Lloyd huffs with indignation.

“Fuck you.”

Like the footballer he used to be, he rushes you.

“Promise?” you coo, dodging him and landing a sharp smack to his butt cheek. It’s spectacularly sculpted, plump, and rock hard all at once.

“Oh my! Darling, you did not lead with your best asset…” You notice the faint scar on his pale skin and giggle. “Little prick got pricked, I see.”

Your amusement gives him a split second to grab you, and Lloyd uses the opportunity to shove you back into the window so violently the thick glass rattles its frame.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he spits viciously, not so cocky as before.

“Isn’t that what I’ve been begging you to do for me, sweetheart?”

Mouth hanging open in a taunt, one hand strokes him, the other warns. The tip of the knife you still wield barely grazes the notch between ribs where you could swiftly puncture his lung. Lloyd watches, fuming and mesmerized, until you transfer the pooling saliva to your palm and resume jerking his cock.

“A firm hand really does make you harder, doesn’t it?”

That snaps him out of it.

He scrambles to bend you over that same armchair you started at, and Lloyd’s version of prep is a single, perfunctory dig of two fingers into your cunt.

To his credit, you are dripping wet for him, so, though his need to check before chaffing himself wasn’t necessary, he rewards you with a beautifully debauched moan as he sinks to the hilt with one thrust.

Lloyd’s got something to prove.

Good.

He’s so focused on groping around to your breasts beneath the stretchy lace that you stick the switchblade deep into the chair’s cushion and hold on; whatever else you’re doing is irrelevant to him. There is only fucking. There is only feeling as if he owns you in this moment.

You let out a high whine and goad him. “Love it when you’re gentle with me, sweetie.”

That earns you an unhinged snarl and the pummeling slap of his hips against your thighs.

He’s so easy to motivate, a majestic maniac on a mission to turn you stupid, if only until the stench of sex dissipates. If the idiot would just reach down to your clit, you’d spare him, but Lloyd is a man.

A selfish, egotistical princeling who’s a good marksman and a shit human. Good, for the business you two are in. But not as good as you.

You sigh like you’re bored, sinking your chin to rest on your outstretched arms.

He stops moving, grunting as he pulls out of you and snapping one of your shoulder straps.

“Fine. You wanna put in the work, sunshine? You go for it.” Lloyd flops onto the bed, face up, his arms spread wide and high.

Of course, he’s going for the gun under the pillow. You know it, you’ve anticipated it, and you decided it would be a nice safety blanket to leave him, to keep him feeling comfortable.

So you crawl on top of him anyway, rocking yourself against his cock for a few seconds before shifting higher. You giggle for emphasis.

You’re just here to fuck him. You’re just here to fuck with him. That’s the truth, and he knows it. Lloyd simply doesn’t know the conditions of both your releases…yet.

“Such a desperate slut,” he rumbles as you settle above his face.

Before you cover your view of him, you pinch at his jaw and smirk.

“Only munches wear a fucking mustache.”

His cheek gets a condescending pat when he smiles back.

He’s cute when he’s having fun, apparently.

Lloyd licks his lips and slowly lifts his head to swipe at your entrance. “You owe me that fucking keycard.” He delicately kisses your folds before his tongue darts out to circle your clit. “And I’ll get it from you one way or another.”

You can hear the rustle of his hand over the sheet. Not even a solid suck on your cunt, and he’s already going for the gun…

“Oh, come on,” you plead, ignoring his threat. “Finish your meal, champ. I know you can do it.”

His eyes narrow, peeking past your mound as he growls, gripping your thighs hard enough for you to collapse forward.

Sloppy. The best word to describe Lloyd eating pussy is sloppy. He contributes as much as you do to the glide of his whole face over every intimate inch of skin. Because you’re sitting with weight mostly on him—some of it still rests on your knees—each movement pushes his nose, lips, tongue, and stache around with enough fervor to polish your raw nerves.

Honestly, it’s a shame he ruins the moment by slipping his hand under the pillow and pressing the silencer's muzzle to your side.

Petulance dialed to maximum, you whimper, “you said I could come first!”

Your hand falls below your navel, clutching the lace like he’s already wounded you, and Lloyd proceeds to laugh right into your cunt.

He doesn’t have time to form a comeback once you peel the sheer, protective layer away from the patch of fabric a mere inch above the opening of the bodysuit. If he’d have paid any proper attention to you, he’d’ve found it, but he didn’t.

The fumes of chloroform-drenched cobalt engulf Lloyd in the suffocating proximity of the bed and your body. He has nowhere to go but under.

The gun falls away once his limbs go lax.

You sit directly on his chest for the few seconds it takes to realign the inner and outer barriers of your dainty, chemical warfare, then you shimmy off of him.

He actually looks quite peaceful this way.

His features are carefree, his broad, smooth chest rises and falls steadily, and his…

Well.

Lloyd’s dick lays erect and proud on his stomach, unfazed by unconsciousness. It’d be an even greater shame to waste that.

“It’s ok, peanut,” you whisper out of habit now, forced to imagine the twitch of his lip, the pop of the vein in his neck. “This is your chance to make it up to me.”

It’s not difficult to take him into your still-sopping core, and once you angle yourself to grind on the cut of his abs, all Lloyd’s previous buildup rushes back. His ass may be the star of the show, but his dick is no fluffer act. He’s packing enough to nudge at that perfect spot relentlessly as you ride him, and you openly mewl as you approach the height of your orgasm.

You imagine he’d say you sound so pretty and pathetic.

He’d probably ask if this is the best you can do, but that makes you fuck him harder until you crash into a wall of pleasure, sweaty, exhausted, resting against that broad chest.

You catch your breath after a short while, skin humming with excitement. Absently, your hands paw at his sides for a tiny bit of comfort.

That thought gets buried in a tense heartbeat, and you climb off the bed, pleased to notice the sheer amount of cum and his softening dick means he finished, too.

You’ll leave that as a souvenir.

The plan was to carve a little message on him—nothing that would permanently scar—but you can’t bring yourself to mar such a glorious ass. That would be akin to treason. Seriously, if he had simply walked around you in a bathing suit with that thing, you would have slipped the keycard into his waistband and thanked him for his service to your wet dreams.

A bit of dried cum smeared all over his pelvis and dripping down his balls, his useless pistol still in-hand, will do fine as a statement.

You clean yourself up, snatching your real clothes from the closet where you hung them tidily beside his own, and give a gentle grip to his immobile knee where it hangs off the bed.

“Sweet dreams, bunny boy. Maybe I'll let you win next time.”

[Next Part: I Left You Something On The Body]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

This work was written for the amazing and inspirational Cum Together Extravaganza hosted by @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420, but a special thanks to @buckymorelikefuckme for the earworm that would not quit. Poppy, you dark enabler you... I fucking love you!

Prompts: "Bet I can make you cum first." || Somnophilia || enemies-to-lovers || Characters A + B cum together at the same time

dividers by @/saradika-graphics (blue art deco) and @/cafekitsune

[rainforest-daisies]

Day 11|virginity loss

Character: Peter Parker x afab!reader

Tags: smut, virgin!peter, sub!peter, PIV,

A/n: I fully re-entered my marvel era again for like two hours while making this….

Kinktober masterlist

“Uhm- I don't really know what to do now…” his hands grasped your hips against his stiff body, a special something poking at your thigh, alerting you of the issue that had sprung up during your make-out session. His mind raced with thoughts, he had never gotten this far with a girl, let alone one of the prettiest ones he had ever met.

Your legs continued to straddle him, his hands on your hips keeping you in place, as you listened to Peter's mumbled rambles, “What do you want me to do? I-i can leave if you want…I mean it's my apartment, but-” Eventually, he ran out of words, gazing into your eyes in silence. An awkward chuckle left his lips, not knowing how to continue his sentence.

“Peter, are you a virgin?” Your words hit him like a semi-truck, yet, he stuttered out an answer, shocked over your blatancy, “Y-yes- well- um- yeah. I'm a virgin.” his fingers fondled the hem of your sweater, a blush tinting his cheeks as if your words had slapped him in the face. “Can I touch you again?” your words soothed the worry in his mind, the worry that you found him lame, or weird, for being a virgin. “Yes!” he cringed at the eagerness in his voice, repeating himself with a calmer tone, “Yeah, yeah.” he shrugged, smiling at the grin formed on your face.

Your hands met his chest at the same time your lips to his, Peter's slim hands rising under the back of your shirt as he felt the soft flesh that adorned you. His face pulled away from yours, causing confusion to infiltrate your mind, but upon opening your eyes, you saw the small smile hanging from his lips again. “I'm actually about to have sex…” his posture suddenly straightened, “I mean, in like a really cool, not nervous kind of way.” a chuckle left his lips at the sarcasm, relaxing himself in your arms again.

His lips pushed against yours again, catching yourself off guard, and taking it as a moment to savor. He couldn't believe that you chose him to touch you, to please you, his mind was clouded with bewilderment, but with each passing second, the belief grew stronger in his head that this isn't a wet dream. with your exploring hands in control, his sweatpants were quick to be discarded, thrown across his wooden desk chair. His t-shirt followed suit.

Your eyes trailed down his body, admiring the lean muscles in his arms, the small freckles atop his strong abs, and the ever-growing bulge in his boxers, and back up at his face, admiring your expressions. “This is unfair. I'm almost naked and…and you're still fully clothed.” in his mind, it was a pathetic excuse to see more of you, the hormonal sex drive that had been making him go crazy was influencing his mind, but hell did it work.

His jaw seemed to be permanently slack as soon as you took your top off, figuratively, and possibly literally, drooling over the sight of your tits. “Wow. I mean, wow.” his mind was malfunctioning. he could barely form words, all the blood in his body was either rushing to his cheeks, or his bulge.

He had seen this moment in porn, read it in books that were snagged from the library, heard about it from guys talking way too loudly in the cafeteria, but in person, in front of him in real-time, he was short-circuiting. In a dazed state, his mouth pressed kisses against your chest, moving your hips against his, practically grinding you against him.

Your voice brought him back to reality, pulling away from your chest, “Say that again?” his doe eyes looked up at you as if you were a goddess. in his eyes, you were one.

“Are you ready? you're getting awfully needy.” his hand reached the back of your neck, smashing your face against his, passionately kissing you. “Shit- shit. I forgot to grab a condom. let me get up.” your body hesitantly pulls away, watching as he stumbles off his bed and across his room to his desk, rummaging through an old box, with a condom stuffed in the bottom of it. “Health class last month really paid off, huh.” looking down at the foil package, he chuckles, but when he looked back up, he had seen you discarded your pants and underwear as he was looking in the box.

Soon, his body was on top of yours, holding his figure up with one hand, holding your face with the other. “Can…I put it on you? the condom?” your words make him shudder, and nod quickly. As your hand slid against his length, unrolling the condom on him, a loud, uncontrollable moan left his parted lips.

“Wait…I read about a guy doing something once,” his hand from your face lifted to his mouth, spitting into his palm and rubbing it against your core, paying extra attention to your clit, “and apparently it's hot…so…”

Your hand gently grasped his lenth, and helped guide him inside, his face scrunched at the warmth of your cunt, a loud whimper threatening to be released any second. shit, he was close already. He had been inside of you for less than a minute, and he was already close.

It wasn't long before he could feel himself throbbing, trying to hold himself back for as long as possible, yet, when he heard the sweetest noise that had ever graced his ears come out of your mouth, he was already filling up the condom. With pants and breaths coming from his mouth, forehead rested atop yours, he pulled out with a whine of sensitivity, and his body began dragging itself down your body, pressing feather-light pecks across your skin as he did so.

“C’mere, baby. I wanna make you cum too.”

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal, Part 14

WC: 2416, Masterpost CW: Panic attack

Endless, convoluted Uno games aside (really, who added tarot cards to Uno?), getting to know Wally’s friends was good. Danny liked them and hanging out with them was easier than he thought it would be, but he felt a little bad every time. Whenever he was there they had to keep masks on and that had to suck. They started dressing down, like Wally did, but it was always masks on for the heroes that wore them. They insisted it wasn’t an issue, but Danny made sure to sometimes have obligations that came up at the same time. He wanted to give them the chance to hang out together as themselves, without the hero suits.

Danny knew how important that was.

After several months and a bit of stumbling, it all found a rhythm. Danny had date nights and nights with the Titans. He also had nights out with coworkers or at the game store. That wasn’t to say it was all easy. Setting up the Justice League Response Team was hard, sometimes impossible seeming, work. There were arguments and issues and more red tape than Danny thought possible. His real job was also exhausting at times. Being a field medic meant dealing with injured and dead which never got easier, though he was grateful to have Wally to go to on the worst days. And then, of course, there was the lightning incident.

It really wasn’t his best moment, in his opinion.

Wally was so excited.

“Come on, come on!” he said as he dragged Danny by the hand. He had been lying in ambush to snag Danny right outside of the door of meeting room B3, otherwise known as the Response Team Lair. (They had been encouraged, repeatedly, to stop calling it a lair. Apparently that a bit too villainous for the comfort of some heroes.)

“What’s the hurry?” Danny asked, purposefully dragging his feet a little just to watch Wally bounce up and down impatiently.

“I’ve been working on a new power! I’ve really gotten it down and I want to show you. So come,” Wally pulled at Danny’s arm, “on already!”

Danny laughed and stopped fighting Wally, who almost stumbled with their sudden movement forward.

“Are we going to a training room then?” Danny asked. While over the months, the main response team planners had gained a lot of freedom throughout the Watchtower, there were still a number of areas they either weren’t allowed or weren’t supposed to go without supervision and the training rooms was one of those. Danny had been a few times with the Titans, but usually it was just to grab someone for a game or a night at Wally’s place.

“Yep! No one is stupid enough to risk the Big Bat’s wrath practicing powers like that outside the training room and this is a new power. I’m going to keep you in the observation room and everything just to be safe.”

“My hero,” Danny said with feeling.

“Always,” Wally replied with a grin. “And speaking of heroes, N is going to be there running the sim for me. Are you up to a meal after? Just something casual at my place with the usual peep?”

Danny thought about that honesty. He knew that Wally was asking because he actually wanted to know if Danny could handle being that social tonight. It was still hard sometimes. “Yeah, it would be good to see them. It’s been a few weeks with how busy things have been.”

“More like several.”

“Several?” Danny asked. He felt chastised even though he knew that’s not what Wally was trying to do. “Well, then definitely yes. I hadn’t realized it had been so long.”

“It’s okay, they all understand. You’re really in the thick of it trying to get the last things done for the response team. We all get being busy.”

“Yeah,” Danny said and let out a huff of air. “I guess you would. But a nice night with friends sounds good. Just please tell me there have been no more rules added to Uno.”

“I can make no such promises,” Wally said with a grin as they stepped through a door. “Nightwing! I have your observer for you.”

“No, not the Danny Fenton? I must be seeing things! Flash, take me to medical, have me tested,” Nightwing said, swooning into Wally’s arms.

“Yeah yeah, I get it, it’s been a little long since we saw each other,” Danny groused, but he couldn’t help the smile at the dramatics.

“It has,” Nightwing said from where he was still draped in Wally’s arms. That really couldn’t be comfortable, but Nightwing looked just as at ease as if he was standing normally. “But are we on for dinner tonight?”

“We are.”

“Yes!” Nightwing said, springing up. “Okay speedy, let’s get this show on the road! I’ll message the others while you warm up. Just signal to me when you’re ready.”

“Sure!” Wally chirped. He pecked Danny on the cheek before he sped off.

In a, well, flash, Wally was on the other side of the thick, blast proof window and stretching.

Danny shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I haven’t ignored him too badly, right? I’ve just been so caught up in finalizing everything. Not that that’s an excuse. I can, like, set alarms for myself. My days have been all thrown off not going to my actual job this last bit…”

“Hey, Danny, no,” Nightwing said. “Would he like to have seen you a little more? Probably, but it’s not like he hasn’t and you two text plenty. He gets that you’re busy, we all do. He’s been good, really.”

“Okay, good,” Danny said, making sure to smile for Nightwing. “I just… don’t want to do wrong by him, you know?”

“Why do you think we all like you so much?” Nightwing teased and bumped their shoulders together. “You’ve been good for him.”

“He’s been better for me, believe me.”

“Luckily not a competition,” Nightwing said. “You really good for a dinner with the group tonight? If you need some time alone with Flash, I can’t say the others are busy and make up an emergency.”

Danny shook his head. “No, dinner with everyone, well, everyone who can make it really does sound nice. They’re making us take the weekend off anyways, so I can just stay over and spend tomorrow with him too..”

“He’d like that I’m sure,” Nightwing agreed. He pulled out his phone typed for a bit until Wally’s voice came through the intercom.

“All good here!”

“You still want the Sigma B pattern?”

“Yeah! That let’s me build up best.”

Nightwing nodded and pulled some things up on the computer before counting down for the training to start. It was fun to be able to sit back and actually watch Wally in action for once instead of having to work. The other really was something.

“The regular training bots have to be taken out in certain ways. Flash is going for pressing one of the buttons,” Nightwing explained. “Training for precise hits helps us heroes who use hand to hand not use too much force on regular people.”

“And keeps the repair budget down?”

Nightwing laughed. “That too. Okay, so he should be getting close now, watch the sphere on the wall there.”

“Close to wha—” Danny swallowed the last part of his question as his mind blanked.

His head banged against something metal and cool. A locker. He was in the locker room. When had he gotten into the locker room?

Someone reached for him and Danny jerked back again, pressing into the little gap between the metal locker and the wall that he had squeezed into. Wally, Wally was paused, hand outstretched. Wally was, Wally had— Danny squeezed his tightly closed so not to see the look of hurt on Wally’s face. It was just that… he swore he could feel still feel the electricity buzzing along Wally’s fingertips.

Wally had shot lightning out of his hands.

“Just… I don’t… don’t touch me right now, please?” Danny whispered.

“Okay, I yeah, okay babe,” Wally said. He sounded heartbroken.

There was some shuffling, footsteps heading away, and the whoosh of the door.

Danny bit his lip to choke back the noise wanting to pull its way out of his throat, but that only served to make his breath catch and stutter in his chest.

“Hey, Danny,” a new voice said later; an hour, a minute? Danny didn’t know. It took Danny another moment to place it as Nightwing. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to try to touch you. I’m just worried about your breathing there. If I count, can you follow along with me?”

Danny didn’t have it in him to nod, but did what he could to follow along. The logical, trained part of his mind knew that even if he didn’t feel like he could breathe, he had to try for even breaths. It would get easier, nothing was actually wrong with his lungs.

“There you go. Do you think you can open your eyes now?”

Spots bloomed across his vision from how tightly he had been squeezing his eyes shut. Danny blinked them away.

“You’re doing so good. Can you talk?”

“Sorry,” Danny rasped.

“Hey, no apologizing. I want you to just keep breathing. I know you’re with me now.”

Danny managed a nod, let his eyes close again as he focused on breathing. When he was feeling a bit more stable, he moved out of where he had tucked himself away.

Nightwing smiled at him. “How about we get you out of here?”

Danny gave a hysterical little laugh. “What, no breakdowns in the Justice League locker room?”

“Oh, no, we’ve all had breakdowns in the locker rooms,” Nightwing said. He got an arm behind Danny and pulled him up. “But that’s how I know it’s not that comfortable. Are you up to Zetaing?”

“As long as you don’t expect me to think,” Danny said as he leaned, helplessly and heavily, into Nigthwing’s support. “Fuck I hate panic attacks.”

Nightwing easily took the weight and started them moving. “The adrenaline crash after them is really something, huh?”

“Yeah, hate it,” Danny agreed. He was aware of them moving through the halls of the Watchtower, but everything was still a bit of a blur.

They stopped near the Zeta tubes where Nightwing grabbed a little bundle. Danny frowned at the earplugs he was handed.

“Your senses are going to be off and the noise of the city might trigger you again. Put these on,” Nightwing said, settling sunglasses on Danny’s nose, “and the earplugs in.”

Danny gave a little nod and did as he was told. Then he obediently tucked into the hoodie he’d been handed. He tucked his nose into it. It smelled like Wally. Nightwing tugged the hood up and moved them to the portal. It wasn’t until they were piling into a taxi that Danny realized that Nightwing put clothing over his suit too. Danny glanced away from Nightwing’s face, now clad only in dark sunglasses.

“Wally’s place?” Danny asked, finally realizing where they were when Nightwing opened the door to the apartment.

He shrugged. “I don’t know where you live and I figured you’d be comfortable here. At least I assume the freak out wasn’t about about Wally as a whole person?”

“A— gods no,” Danny said. He set the sunglasses on Wally’s little side table inside the door. The earplugs got stuffed in a pocket before he rubbed at his face as he made his way to the couch. He felt more terrible every passing moment. “How upset is Wally?”

“He’s not upset at you.”

“Yeah, but…”

The couch dipped on the other side. “Pretty upset. He hates that he hurt you.”

“He didn’t hurt me. I just,” Danny dropped his hands with a sigh and was left blinking at an unmasked Nightwing.

“Hi, Dick Grayson.”

“Oh great, now I know more heroes’ secret IDs. Is Batman going to come and boomerang me for this?”

“Baterang.”

“Baterang, really?”

“I was nine,” Dick said with a little shrug.

Danny snorted. “Don’t pretend you still don’t think it’s a great name, Dick.”

“I can’t tell if you’re insulting me or calling me my name.”

“Can’t it be both?”

Dick chuckled and finally sunk back into the couch. “Good to see this hasn’t slowed down your sass any.”

“I’m told it’s one of my best features,” Danny said with a laugh. The sound was still slightly unhinged sounding, he knew, but he was settling down at least. “Thanks for, you know.”

“It’s no biggie, really. We’ve all had them. Is having Wally close going to set you off again or…?”

“No, I don’t think so? I should be good?” He hoped he would be at least.

Nightwing, Dick, eyed him for a moment before texting something on his phone. A second later Wally was standing in front of the couch.

“You’re not supposed to use your powers out of uniform,” Danny reprimanded on instinct.

“Yeah, fuck that. Are you okay? I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about the lightning freaking you out because of your accident. That’s what it was, right? Babe—” Wally reached out for him and then pulled himself back.

Danny smiled, sadly, and held open his arms. Wally basically tackled him in a hug.

“I am so, so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Danny said, tucking himself against Wally. “I mentioned what the accident was, what, once? Months and months ago? Of course you didn’t think about it.”

“I should have.”

“You can’t remember everything, Wally.”

“I can if it’s about you.”

A flash of a camera went off. Dick lowered his phone unrepentantly. “You two are such saps. Should I call off the others, order you some food, and get out of your hair?”

Danny knew they would, they would all change their plans if they thought that’s what he needed right then. But… “No. No, I think… I think people would be good right now. Better than quiet and getting in my own head, you know?”

“Yeah, I do,” Dick said with far too much familiarity.

Danny felt his phone buzzing with the group chat messages Dick was sending. A little smile tugged at his lips, despite everything. He tucked his face into the crook of Wally’s neck.

“You going to be okay?” Wally asked, voice barely a whisper.

“Of course I will. I have you, hero.”

---

AN: He has Wally, everything will be okay, right? 🥺

I know I know, every identity reveal comes after a panic attack. That's just Danny's sort of luck in this fic! But hey, he's got some good friends out of it!

Hope you enjoyed it and stay delightful, darlings!

[avatar-anna]

Please Anna 😭 Write a part 2 of ice hockey harry and skater YN (possibly longer if you cank)

the part two to my hockey harry fic that only a couple people asked for. enjoy!

You knew you shouldn't have been jealous, you were the one who put all these strict rules in place about keeping the arrangement you had with Harry from being anything more than it was. Harry followed along of course, but it always felt like he was just amusing you, like he knew something you didn't.

But despite how good he made you feel, he still infuriated you. He was still the cocky asshole who considered himself the best athlete on campus. And you'd made such a big showing of being indifferent to him, of not being charmed by him that you couldn't see him as anything more than a good fuck. You wouldn't.

So why did seeing him flirt with someone else make your blood boil all of a sudden?

You'd seen Harry at parties before. Sometimes he would sneak you away to a bathroom with a lock on it or a room no one would enter, but in most cases you both minded your business, sometimes sharing snarky remarks if your paths crossed. Tonight was the same, though when your eye snagged on him and some girl that looked nothing like you, you gripped your plastic cup a little harder than usual.

You and Harry weren't dating each other, but you were also keenly aware of the fact that neither of you went out or hooked up with anyone else. You told yourself that it was to reduce the risk of STIs, but did Harry want to explore other options? Were you not giving him enough satisfaction? Why was he leaning in so close to her?

Then, almost as if he could sense you looking at him, Harry turned and met your gaze. His brow raised the slightest bit as if to say, Your move.

He was doing this on purpose. Harry was intentionally flirting with some random girl to get a reaction out of you, to see what exactly that reaction would be. He probably wanted you to storm over there and get between him and the girl, and...What? Claim him? Make sure everyone at this party knew Harry wasn't as available as people thought?

Well, you were not going to do that.

The smart thing to do would've been to just ignore him, to not play his little game at all. But intelligence and good sense seemed to fly out the window when Harry Styles was involved.

You didn't go over to Harry, though. You stalked off in search of more alcohol and your friends. The bass of some rap song pounded through the speakers as you pushed past people. You found yourself in the next room over, searching for a place to sit and people watch.

"Hey, Y/n!"

Turning, you saw someone approach, and your eyes lit up, but only because of the opportunity that was presented to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Harry enter the room holding hands with that girl. Smiling to yourself, you looked up at the guy in front of you. "Hey, Evan. We have metaphysics together, right?"

Evan and Harry were virtually opposites. Similar on paper, but completely different otherwise. He played baseball, was the team captain, and was handsome, so so handsome. But he was sweet too. He didn't strut around or make crude remarks. Evan had a quiet, understated kind of confidence. He was the one you should've gotten all flustered around.

"Yeah. I saw you and I thought I'd say hi. I don't normally see you at parties."

You weren't the kind of person who flirting came naturally to, but you did your best. "Yeah, I came with my friends, but I'm glad I ran into you."

Evan's eyes glanced down to his arm when you placed your hand on it. Unable to help yourself, you glanced to your left. You fought the smile that crept on your face when you caught Harry shooting daggers at you. Before he noticed you noticing him, you turned back to the boy in front of you.

"Really?"

You nodded. "I mean, like you said, we have a class, we sit next to each other, but we've hardly said two words to each other."

His eyes squinted as he grinned, then bent down to whisper in your ear. "Or are you glad that someone as good-looking as me is here to make Styles over there jealous?"

Well, shit. "I'm sorry," you said, a blush forming on your cheeks. "He's just being an ass, and I thought I would—I don't even like him, but he's such an asshole—"

"You mentioned that," Evan said, but for some reason, he didn't seem to be mad at being used. "I don't really care what you think of the guy, but I'm always up for a bit of light teasing."

"Really? What's in it for you?" you asked. This was not the reaction you were expecting.

"Help with studying for the midterm? I'm not gonna lie, I'm totally lost in that class."

You thought about it for a moment. Harry really wasn't worth going to all this trouble for, right? With another glance out of the corner of your eye, you saw Harry completely ignoring whoever it was he'd been flirting with to piss you off, and that was satisfying to say the least.

"I...I don't like him like that," you said. You felt like you had to say it.

"No judgment here," Evan said, raising his hands in mock defense. "I just need to pass an exam. I'd technically be using you just as much if you think about it."

"Five minutes, ten tops, and I'll help you study for the test," you decided. "I don't like him, but I like the idea of ruffling his feathers."

Evan grinned. "Well then. Better make 'em count."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Harry was fuming, you could tell. It shouldn't have brought you so much satisfaction, but it did. He just always got under your skin all the time with his teasing and heckling during practice, it was nice to be on the other side of it.

And you'd made a friend out of Evan. To everyone at the party, it looked like you and Evan were flirting heavily with his arm draped over your shoulder and the casual touches between the two of you, but you talked about your class mostly. And the sports you played, but mostly school. It turned out you were both kind of lost in class and were going to need to clock a lot of hours in the library if you were going to pass the upcoming midterm.

And Harry was there in your periphery, looming in the corner of the room you were in while you talked to Evan. You told yourself he was doing this to himself because if he'd just come over, he'd realize it was all a ruse.

When he finally did, you and Evan were sitting on a couch, your legs were across his lap while he told you about some tournament the baseball team had next weekend. "You should come," he said. "There's food and music, it's a big party, really. The baseball team knows how to have a good time. So if you ever find yourself out of that little ice rink of yours—"

"She has plans already. Thanks."

You tipped your head back to see Harry standing over you and Evan. His arms were crossed and there was an adorable little scowl on his face. You knew he was pissed, but it was cute because he was so jealous.

"I do?"

Harry just glowered down at you, and you stared right back, your arms crossed just like his were.

"I'm gonna—I think I see some friends over there."

Evan gently put your feet back on the ground and stood up. He clapped Harry on the back the way all guys did as they sized each other up, which you found both ridiculous and amusing. You quietly waved goodbye to your new friend, then looked back to Harry, brows raised the same way he'd done to you a little bit ago.

"Can I help you?"

Muttering under his breath, Harry grabbed your hand and pulled you to your feet, dragging you off until he found an empty room, some office that was converted into a room with a pool table, a dart board, and a bunch of other games. Before you could say a word, his hands were on your hips and lifting you up onto the pool table. He put his hands in your hair, gripping the back of your head harshly as he pulled you to him for a searing kiss.

You almost didn't want to kiss him back, just out of spite, but there was just something about Harry that got to you. Even when you were training and he was teasing you from outside the rink and you were pretending you hated it, hated him, you felt like you had a magnet in your navel dragging you to him against your will. Harry drove you insane, and on principle, you should have hated him. He was cocky, arrogant, had an ego the size of Texas, and yet...

Your legs wrapped around his waist and drew him closer to you. His grip on your waist was hard, almost painful, but it felt good too, deliriously so.

"Harry—I want—Can we—"

"I don't really care about what you want," he seethed, un buttoning the cropped sweater you were wearing. "What the hell do you think you're doing out there, huh?"

You quickly put your hands on his shoulders and pushed him back a bit. "Me? You started it! And last time I checked, we weren't exclusive."

"Bullshit! We—" he stopped and stepped away, not meeting your gaze. Looking at him, you realized he was really hurt by this. Angry, for sure, but it felt like he was using it to mask something more.

"Harry, we—we agreed that this was just—"

"Just sex, I know. I know," Harry said, stepping back. "I shouldn't have flirted with that girl tonight. I was just hoping—I mean, I—I thought you would react differently, I guess. My mistake."

You were left speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish. You didn't know what to say, you thought you and Harry were on the same page.

As you continued to struggle for words, Harry stepped away from you even more. "I, um, I know what we agreed on at the start of all this, and I'm—I'm sorry, but I can't do it anymore."

"Harry—"

"No, it's my fault. You held up your end, I couldn't hold up mine. I'll leave you to get to know that guy. On the baseball team, right? I've met him a few times. He seem like a nice guy."

Harry left soon after that, his head bowed. You were still frozen, perhaps in shock, sweater still half unbuttoned.

You'd never seen Harry...like that before. Things were always playful between the two of you, and you were always purposely pushing each other's buttons. You thought that was what was happening tonight, but apparently you'd misread the whole situation.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"You're staring."

You jolted in your seat at the dining hall, looking away from Harry and his friends and down at your barely-eaten sandwich. "I wasn't."

"You were," Kate said. "It's okay to be upset, you know."

You looked at your friend, trying to act confused but couldn't muster the energy. "How did you—"

"You think I didn't notice when you were in such high spirits out of seemingly nowhere? And then the moping since last week? Give me some credit," she said, a small grin on her face. "So, did you like him?"

Looking down at your sandwich, you said, "It wasn't like that, we were just—" You sighed. "It wasn't like that."

Kate snorted, which made you look up at her. She was looking at you amusingly, like she was in on a joke that you weren't. "What?" you asked.

"It's okay to have feelings for him."

"I don't," you insisted, but even to you it sounded like you were only trying to convince yourself.

"What happened between you two?"

"I don't want to talk about it," you said.

Standing up from the table, you took your lunch and walked over to the trash cans to throw out the sandwich. Kate followed, but didn't say anything. As you left the dining hall, you had to pass the table Harry and his friends. The grip on your backpack tightened, preparing yourself for the unavoidable interaction. You hadn't seen Harry since the party. He didn't come by the rink while you practiced anymore, and you never saw him when your training sessions overlapped. Sometimes you wondered if he went back to taking the bus, and in those moments, you missed him the most, if only because you didn't know if he was safe or not.

He was avoiding you, you could tell, but you didn't really know what to say to him if you were given the chance. He made it clear that he had feelings for you, and you...Well, you—

"Kate! Off to class?"

Zayn, Kate's boyfriend and Harry's teammate, smiled as she walked by. You half expected her to want the two of you to sit with him and Harry and their friends, but she didn't. Apparently because she knew you and Harry had had a falling out.

"Nope," Kate said. "Y/n and I are both done for the day, so we're gonna go shopping at the mall a couple towns over. Wanna join?"

Shooting your friend a look, you elbowed her and tried to tell her that was a terrible idea. Zayn didn't think so, though, and agreed. "H, you coming?"

"Uh..."

"Great. I think my car will fit all of us. Meet us within the next half hour?" Kate asked, dragging you away shortly after. When you were out of the dining hall, you smacked her arm.

"What the hell?"

"He likes you, Y/n. And you clearly feel something for him. What the hell is wrong with that?" she asked you, walking down the path that would lead to the dorms. "He's, you know, he's Harry, and he's a cocky bastard, but he's harmless. Kinda sweet in that goofy, lovable idiot kind of way."

"I know."

Kate pinned you with a look. "Did he do something? Did he say something that made you hate him, or—"

"Nothing. He didn't do anything. We just—We had an agreement, and he—"

"Aw, and you were so good he fell for you," she cooed, laughing when you frowned at her. "Do you like him?"

You frowned at her. "What?"

"Do you like him like that too?" she asked again, hands on her hips and everything.

"I—It doesn't matter. He probably hates me now anyway," you told her with a shake of her head.

Eyes lit up, she looped your arms through hers and began walking again. "We'll see about that."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Walking around a mall with Harry was not your idea of a good time.

Almost five minutes into the trip, Kate and Zayn disappeared with the rest of the group you came with, leaving you and Harry alone to walk awkwardly side by side. Neither of you said anything, just walked aimlessly past store after store. You were itching to say something, anything, to break the obvious tension between the two of you, but you couldn't come up with anything to say. You and Harry were never the types to have small talk, and now certainly didn't feel like the time to start.

So you snuck glances at him instead. You peeked at him, at the same baseball cap that he always wore, the same scuffed up pair of sneakers, the sleeves of his shirt that clung to his arm tightly, the spot just below his collar where his skin was a tiny bit paler because it didn't see as much sun. You took note of all the little things you took for granted when you had the luxury of seeing him all the time. You wondered if he was doing the same when you looked away.

"I...I'm sorry that Kate forced your hand," you finally managed to say. "I didn't know she was going to spring that on you and Zayn. I'm probably the last person you want to hang out with right now."

"It's fine," he said, still not looking over at you. You understood why, of course, but you found yourself really wanting him to look at you.

"And I'm—I'm sorry about that night at the party. You...You took me by surprise, that's all."

Harry chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "You don't have to try and make me feel better about it, Y/n. I already told you it's fine. You're off the hook."

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into a family restroom. He protested as you locked the door, and for a moment there was some light pushing and slapping of hands between the two of you, but you finally managed to shush him and put your hand up so you could collect your thoughts.

"I—I don't want a nice guy."

"What?"

You paced the small bathroom, your heart pounding in your chest. "At the party, you said Evan was a nice guy, and he is, he's very sweet—"

"Y/n, I really don't care about what kind of guy Evan is—"

"Will you shut up?" you interrupted. Harry raised an eyebrow, but thankfully didn't say anything. Your hands were shaking, but you took a deep breath and continued. "He's nice, but I don't want a nice guy. I want—I want...you."

Harry was quiet for a moment, leaning against the bathroom door. His head was bent, but when he lifted it, he had a small grin on his face. "Wow, that was some speech. You really know how to make a guy feel good."

"Yeah, well, you're no poet, either," you grumbled, crossing your arms.

"Um, no. Nuh-uh. That's not how this is gonna go," he said, stepping closer to you. "You are apologizing to me. That doesn't involve you insulting me. I am nice, by the way. So you'll have to apologize for that too."

"Oh please. We're both assholes," you muttered. You kicked at nothing on the tile floor, waiting for your nerves to settle. You'd never been all that good with words, which was why you loved skating. You could express yourself through each performance much easier than talking. "I'm confessing, not apologizing. There's a difference."

"Really?" he asked, stepping closer, settling his hand on your hip. Your breath hitched, and Harry's grin widened when he heard it. "Because I'm not taking you on a date until you apologize."

"A date? I didn't say anything about a—"

"You'll want to. Once I tell you all about it," he said, pulling you straight to his chest. Your hands itched to touch him, but you kept them at your side. You knew Harry pretty much had all the power, but a proud part of you was still hanging on, not giving in. "And you're definitely not getting into bed with me until we go on a date. I know you're practically aching for it. You're just too stubborn to do something about it."

"Excuse me? You—"

"You said you didn't want nice, baby. I can be that for you, and so much more." Harry leaned down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "You just have to say yes."

"Fine. Yes, now will you—"

"No. Like you mean it."

Your brows furrowed even more, but Harry was in your space for the first time in a week. He was grinning and making your heart leap, and if you took two seconds to think about it, a date did sound nice. Going to his games in his jersey and him watching you perform, holding hands, study dates, kissing him whenever you felt like it.

"I...I hated seeing you with that girl. I was practically seeing red," you said, hooking a finger in the belt loop of his jeans.

"Yeah?"

"I want to sit on your lap at parties, I want to be your partner at beer pong, I want you to make sure I make it home safe at the end of the night and make sure I get my shoes off before going to sleep," you said, tilting your head up at him. "I want to wear your jersey at your games so that those girls who always come to your games know to back the fuck off. That good enough for you?"

Harry caressed the side of your face and brushed his thumb across your cheekbone. "I mean, that wasn't really an apology, but—"

"Oh shut up."

You leaned up and kissed him, pushing him backward until his back was against the door of the bathroom. Harry tried to put his hands on your waist, but you pinned them down, kissing him harder. You knew he definitely could've resisted, but he wasn't, he was letting you do your thing.

It had only been a week, but you'd missed him. You missed gripping your fingers in his hair and tasting his skin and watching him react to the faintest touches. And yes, you missed the in-between moments too. You didn't talk much to each other much, but you liked waking up next to him and hearing him mumble in his sleep. You liked how Harry spooned you right after sex and always had a fresh towel for you to shower with, and how he always gave you space on the bed when you asked for it. You liked how gentle he was with you when he went a little rougher than usual in bed and how even though you were always exchanging jabs and casual insults, he always had the gentlest voice when he cleaned you up and brought you back down from the cloud you were drifting away on. You liked how he randomly kissed the birthmark on your rib cage and how he pushed you harder than anyone else did when you were training. You liked how he understood how competitive you were, that he did because he was just as dedicated an athlete as you were.

You could have that again, and so much more, just like he said.

"This is my apology," you said, kissing him while undoing his belt buckle. "I'm gonna have bruises on my knee for days, and my throat is gonna be sore, but you're not gonna tease me about it because this is my grand apology, got it?"

"Well, I don't know if I couldn't help myself from one little joke."

"I will walk out this door and leave you hard and alone," you said, letting go of him.

Harry raised his hands up, surrendering. "Okay, okay, shutting up. I'll behave, I promise. I could get used to these kinds of apologies."

Grinning, you got back to unbuckling Harry's belt. You kissed him once on the lips before sinking to your knees, the cold tile biting your skin.

You could get used to these kinds of apologies too.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"God, Harry is so hot."

"I know. The things I would do if I had a moment alone with him."

"I heard he has a girlfriend now."

"So? He's not married. That's fair game to me as far as I'm concerned."

"Oh my God, Monique. You're terrible!"

"Mm. I just know what I want," the girl, Monique, shrugged, tying her hair back with a clip. "And I mean, he'll want it too. You'll see."

If fake flirting when you technically weren't together had driven you crazy, then listening to some girl you didn't know talk about your boyfriend like he was hers for the taking? Your blood was boiling.

You glared at the girl and her friend standing a couple feet in front of you, crossing your arms and tapping your foot rapidly. Harry was supposed to come out of the locker room any minute now, but now it felt like he was taking his sweet time while you listened to Monique and her friend talk about stealing your boyfriend. "Where the hell is he?" you muttered, pulling your phone out to text him.

A minute later, and the doors to the locker room opened, all the members of the school's hockey team flooding out. You strained your neck looking for Harry, not caring if that made you look desperate. The minute you saw him, you were going to make it clear to Monique that she would not be getting what she wanted this time.

He spotted you first, green eyes lighting up when he saw you waiting for him. He was dressed comfortably in a pair of sweats and a dark gray hoodie, his baseball cap fitted on his head like it always was. There was a flash of confusion when he saw your pissed off demeanor, but it was wiped away when he saw you rush over to him.

"Hey, good game, right? Did you see when I—mmph."

You kissed him, perhaps with more force than was probably necessary. Harry didn't seem to mind, though. He held your face with one hand and rested the other on your lower back. He tasted like mint, just like he always did after a game. Apparently brushing his teeth was just as important as showering once he got off the ice. His perspective confused you, but you didn't question it.

"While I love the enthusiasm for our win today," he mumbled, nipping your bottom lip. "It is out of the ordinary. You hardly ever know what's going on during my games."

"I'm learning," you said. Harry pinned you with a stare, like he was waiting for you to say more. Finally scoffing, you told him, "Fine. Those girls over there seem to think that you might have a wandering eye. I'm letting them know you don't."

"Me? Never," he agreed. Harry pulled back enough to kiss the tips of your fingers. His hair was still damp and extra curly around his face. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, but the rest of him was warm, solid as you wrapped your arms around him. "But since we're both suckers for showing each other off, should we go to the party tonight or just head back to your place? Or mine. I'm good with either."

"Mm...No party tonight," you said. "Dinner and back to my place. That girl was a little too smug for my liking."

Harry took your hand and walked to the parking with you. As you passed Monique and her friend, you looked over at them and gave Monique a pointed look over your shoulder. She shot you a dirty glare, which only made you smile. Harry, who was fully aware of everything taking place, pinched your side and kissed the top of your head.

"Careful there, love. People might think you actually like me," he said, and you didn't have to look at him to know his grin was smug.

"Good."

He slung his arm over your shoulders, his hand still laced with yours until he had to put his gear in the trunk. You wrinkled your nose when you caught a whiff of the smell and immediately went for the driver's seat so you could be as far away from it as possible.

"Oh now you don't want to be anywhere near me," Harry said, pulling you back to his chest by the waist.

"You're lucky I let your shit stink up my car. That should tell you everything you need to know about my feelings," you said, giggling as he peppered the back of your neck with sloppy kisses. "Come on, Harry, I'm hungry. Let's go."

Harry stayed exactly where he was. "It's not like your stuff smells any better. Sweaty, smelly gear is sweaty, smelly gear. It's all the same," he mumbled.

"I wash my gear regularly and keep disinfectants in my bag," you said. "I thought I told you to get some."

"I'll get on it. Kiss?"

You turned around and frowned at him. "Promise?"

"Are we really talking about this right now? What happened to being wildly jealous and kissing in front of my adoring fans?"

"Bite me."

"Gladly. But not in the parking lot, so let's get out of here, yeah?"

"You're the one pinning my ass to your crotch like a desperate fool—"

"Car. Now, please," Harry said. When you turned around to face him, his usual cocky grin was back on his face, dimples on display and eyes squinting with glee. Now that you could take the time and allow yourself, you realized you thought that smile was endearing. Too sure of himself it made you want to smack him, but endearing too.

"Menace," you muttered, but got behind the wheel anyway.

"I think that's what you like best about me," he called as he shut the trunk and came around to the passenger seat.

"Yeah," you sighed. "I think you might be right."

[deansdelicate]

I CAN SEE YOU

CHAPTER II: WATCHING YOU FOR AGES

seth rollins x fem!writer+producer reader

word count: [8.5K]

warnings: no use of y/n, mild cursing, mentions of having a baby out of wedlock (steph and paul), slight allusions to anxiety/loneliness, flirting (you don't even have to squint), mostly a light-hearted, domestic chapter <3

🎧 the soundtrack

summary: You're still getting accustomed to the fast life that comes with working for WWE, but it's all starting to settle down and you're beginning to feel like you belong with each day that passes—and it sure does help when a special someone is always going out of their way to make sure you know it too.

Seth and the rest of the superstars sat patiently on the shuttle bus, awaiting one last person before they could head to the arena for the night’s taping of SmackDown. It wasn’t often that they got to travel as one big group, but it was always something he took up when possible.

Usually the procedure was driving themselves to and from cities, hotels, and arenas, but now that Paul was in charge, he did his best to work in bus accommodations in order to give talent the slot to relax before shows. But even then, some opted to drive themselves, like Roman who was missing from his usual seat beside Seth.

“Who are we even waiting for?” Xavier complained, standing up to scan the area, trying to detect who exactly was holding them up.

“I’m surprised it isn’t you,” Seth cackled over at Finn who was notoriously known for being chronically late to every bus ride.

The Irish lad rolled his eyes. “Whoever has me beat is far more a mess.”

“Mr. Driver, can we get this show on the road?” piped Kofi with a clap as all the superstars agreed, preferring to get to the arena before doors so they could all get situated.

The driver looked up in the rear-view mirror, laughing shortly with the shake of his head. The superstars grumbled, patience dwindling by the second, trying to pinpoint who was the culprit of them running behind and making a pact to bar them from any future bus rides.

It wasn’t unusual for a crowd to gather outside the hotel—many of them children accompanied with their parents to get autographs and photos if they weren’t able to snag tickets to the show. But this time around, the crowd felt larger, more amateur photographers scattered throughout, which was odd considering it wasn’t a pay-per-view event.

“Oh, shit…” Big E singsonged, leaning out of his seat towards the window to see what all the ruckus was about as the fans’ cheers got louder.

Security surrounded you closely, keeping their arms outwards to stop people from getting too close to you. You happily waved at everyone, pausing for the kids who asked for autographs and selfies, making small talk with them before you waved goodbye and continued following the security.

“This way, Ms. Levesque.” One of the guards escorted you towards the doors of the bus, holding it open and ensuring you’d get in safely.

“Thank you,” you murmured with a tight smile, giving each of them a handshake for going out of their way for you.

“Hi! I’m so sorry for the holdup,” you apologized sincerely, turning to meet the driver, “They just wanted to make sure we were clear to go ahead.” You explained, extending your hand.

The man reassured you with a comforting shake of his head and meeting your hand gently. Your father was extremely protective of you, therefore many, if not all drivers and security crew of the company were well aware of the procedure of making sure you got where you needed to be safely no matter how long it took.

“You are precious cargo, Ms. Levesque. Have a seat and I’ll get us to the arena promptly.” He directed, gesturing you to get comfortable wherever you pleased.

Passing through the aisle, you smiled and said your ‘hello’s’ to everyone, most were surprised that you were joining them, considering that you were almost always a driven separately.

But what they didn’t know was that you had to practically beg your father to switch transportation for the day, simply wanting to be around everyone instead of being chauffeured to every event, which was starting to become a little lonely.

Seth sat in the last row of the bus, an empty seat beside him catching your eye. You paused in the aisle, pointing to the space with a hopeful smile.

“Is it okay if I sit here?” you asked timidly, crossing your fingers he didn’t mind you invading his space.

He immediately bopped his head, patting the seat.

“Course, here, let me help you.” He offered, holding his arms out towards you to take your things so that you could get settled with the fuss.

“Thanks.” You breathed a sigh of relief, passing him your purse and laptop.

You slid into the seat and buckled in before retrieving your stuff, your eyes meeting Seth’s with a grateful expression when his fingers brushed against yours for a split second.

“I hope you guys weren’t waiting too long,” you apologized, placing your purse on the ground between your feet.

He shook his head, leaning back into his seat. “Nah, we weren’t waiting long. Plus, it’s always a pleasure to be waiting for the princess herself.”

You giggled, brushing your hair over your shoulders then laying your head against the rest. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”

The bus began moving en route to the arena that was a good twenty-five minutes away, giving you enough time to look over the script that you had been working on since what felt like forever ago. It was a part of an assignment your dad had you complete ting—writing four original scripts for the main roster, three of which focused on superstars who needed a bit more of character development.

The three completed scripts were met with praise by your dad alongside a number of producers and fellow writers who thought you were able to curate a story worthy enough to be showcased on TV. The remaining storyline, however, was a challenge—a romantic one.

You had been circling back to early storylines that involved romance, and while they were entertaining and good TV, they all felt one dimensional.

Therefore, you challenged yourself to come up with a script that would allow both leads to shine without acting as if their relationship was the only thing that existed. Sure, it was a longshot your dad would approve of it since TV hadn’t seen a romance trope in a while, but you wanted to take the risk and give it a shot.

“Important business?” Seth peered past your shoulder, raising his brow at your screen that had an overwhelming volume of text splayed across it.

You gawked up at him, nodding with a light laugh. “Just my final assignment.”

He looked at you, confused, feigning concern. “Final assignment? Did I miss the memo or something?”

You swung your head as you giggled, stopping your typing in order to show him exactly what you were up to.

“It’s the last storyline I’m writing for my dad to approve. I’ve been working on it for a while and now I’m just trying to polish it up for him.” You explained, tilting the screen towards him as you scrolled through the document.

“Whose it for?” he wondered, genuine curiosity in his eyes as he read a short fragment.

You rolled your shoulders with a shrug.

“To be honest, I don’t even have any particular superstars in mind. It’s very vague, but the details and sequencing are all there.”

“Well, if you’re writing it, I’m positive it’ll be worthy of Paul’s green-light.” He said confidently, his tone sincere, hoping it would make you feel slightly better to know he was rooting for you.

“I hope so,” your voice soft, exchanging tight smiles before you turned your attention back to work, trying to ignore the feeling of Seth’s eyes peering at you every so often while you typed away.

The bus ride was the perfect change of scenery even if it was just for a little while. It had been a bit lonesome traveling all by yourself and with the presence of everyone else you started to feel like you could get into the groove of things. Even if you weren’t involved in the conversation, the chatter of everyone cracking jokes made you grin through the work.

As the bus parked out back, the driver promptly exited to get the undercarriage opened so that talent could retrieve their luggages. Everyone stayed in their seats, just getting up to stretch their legs.

A security personnel poked their head into the bus, scanning the area until they saw you.

“Ms. Levesque, we’re going to escort you into the building.”

You acknowledged them with a nod, swiftly closing your laptop and gathering your things.

“How come we don’t get an escort too?” Kofi frowned, eliciting amusement from the entire bus, including yourself.

“Because I’m not a professional wrestler who could easily defend herself against crazed fans.” You half-joked with a pout.

“Noted.” Kofi replied with a smirk, flexing his arms and taking what you said as a compliment.

You shook your head with a laugh, turning back to Seth, who had been watching closely visibly seeing that now you were breaking out of your shell and learning everyone’s personalities.

“I’ll see you inside?” You proposed, getting up from your seat.

He nodded, knocking his knuckles against the window behind him. “See you in there.”

You twiddled your fingers goodbye before you walked through the aisle towards the front of the bus where security was already waiting.

“Bye everyone! I’ll see you inside,” you called out to everyone, waving as you exited and followed security through the surveillance screening to get into the arena.

After retrieving his bags, Seth headed straight to the locker room, dropping off his bags and then making his way toward catering for some food. He caught a glimpse of you on the way there, already sitting in hair and makeup, doing work on your laptop while you chit-chatted with the ladies.

He figured he’d leave you to it, hoping he’d run into you later in the night to talk more. He knew how important it was to make others feel welcomed, but it felt especially important to him that he could be someone you knew you could lean on, whether it was casual conversations or just talking about work.

“Where you off to? We’re all scheduled for a meeting with Paul.” Charlotte stopped him in the halls, going in the opposite direction of where all the talent was heading.

He scratched the back of his neck, pointing at her phone in her hand, “Was it an email? I didn’t see it on the itinerary.”

The blonde nodded, scrolling through her inbox. “Should’ve got sent to you this morning, but it doesn’t matter. It said all talent anyway.”

Seth nodded, walking alongside her, noting just how many people were headed in the same direction as Paul’s office. Usually they were all scheduled for meeting by group, but it seemed like it was an important one if Paul was calling for everyone on the same day at the same time.

As they squeezed into the office, some superstars found empty chairs while the rest stood against the walls, making space for those still arriving. The room buzzed with loud chatter, everyone speculating about the meeting’s purpose, hoping it wasn’t anything bad, like another round of roster splits.

Paul who sat at the head of the table, finally cleared his throat, silencing the room with an assertive presence that meant business.

“Okay everyone, let’s make this quick so you all can get out of here.” He rubbed his hands together, passing around papers that had the upcoming schedule for the next month.

“We’ve got some shows scattered across the east coast and mid-west. We’re prepping for SummerSlam, so things are going to start moving quicker and as we wrap up some storylines, we’re also going to be starting new ones.”

Many of the superstars were already well aware if they would be on the pay-per-view card or not, except Seth, who was still awaiting his opponent after he and Dean lost the tag team championships to Sheamus and Cesaro. They were originally going to have a rematch, but Dean ended up getting written into a different storyline with The Miz for the intercontinental championship.

“As you know my daughter joined us just a few days ago, but she has been watching and closely working alongside creative and producers in order to write a few scripts. Some of which will be getting played out in the coming weeks.”

Seth heard through the grapevine that some superstars already had meetings with you the following day after your debut to pitch the new storylines. Braun Strowman was one of the superstars to have a script written specifically for himself, and it was safe to say that everyone else was excited to see if they’d receive a script with your name on it too.

Your father was also greatly elated that you were taking the reins on helping him develop some talent—the pride evident in his voice and face as he spoke about you though you weren’t around to hear.

“And speaking about my daughter, I feel like this goes without saying, but just to make it abundantly clear, I think you should hear it from me.”

The tone in Paul’s voice suddenly shifted to something more serious, causing the superstars to deliberately fixate their sights on him.

“She’s new to this scene and to be quite frank she didn’t even want to step foot anywhere near the business, but she gave it a shot and while she’s still getting adjusted to the way things work around here, I have a good feeling she’s going to be the person taking over when I decide its time for me to step away…”

Everyone nodded along understanding that Paul’s time in charge might not be for long seeing as though he was getting older and he didn’t want to overstay his position of the head of creative knowing that it was best for a new perspective to be let in before things went stale.

Paul took a deep breath, the shift in his demeanor palpable as he transitioned from boss to protective father. His eyes scanned the room, settling on each superstar with a look that spoke volumes and caused most of them to squirm including Seth.

“Which is why I need to make myself crystal clear,” he began, his voice firm and unwavering. “My daughter is absolutely off-limits.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in despite him feeling like it should have been an automatic rule everyone should’ve been expected to follow without him saying it explicitly.

Seth found it a little hypocritical considering the nature of Paul and Stephanie’s relationship. Everyone knew they had gotten together despite Vince’s warning and everyone else tell them it was bad for business, yet here they were years later not only married but with four daughters to show for it.

But Seth also knew that mixing pleasure with business wasn’t always successful as theirs was—most times it was like playing a dangerous game, and he respected that aspect of it—plus, who would be crazy enough to go after the boss’s daughter, anyway?

“She’s a sweet girl,” he continued, his voice softening slightly trying not to get emotional when it came to you.

“And I’m not just saying that because she’s my kid. If anyone were to hurt her, especially when I’m the person signing their checks, I would hate to be the one to have to fire them too. Am I clear?”

Paul was anything other than threatening especially outside of the character he played up for fans, but it felt like the first time he showed the true colors that could come out if anyone dared to get on his bad side. There was a collective ‘yes’ that filled the room, nearly suffocating everyone with how thick the tension in the air was.

From the back of the room, Randy’s voice cut through the silence with a choked up laugh.

“I guess my dreams of calling you dad are finally crushed.”

Laughter calmed the room and everyone in it—of course Randy was the only one who could make a joke like that and live to see another day.

Paul chortled, pointing a finger in his direction. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, shaking his head and settling down.

Just then, the door swung open, causing everyone to look in its direction.

You stumbled in, changed out of your casual clothing into a little black dress with your hair pinned up in curlers. Your eyes widened, forehead creasing with worry as you quickly shut the door and darted your eyes towards your dad, sputtering out an apology.

“I’m sorry, I’m late! I thought the meeting started at—”

He shook his head, lifting a hand and cutting you off. “You’re right on time, sweetheart. I just got them briefed on next month’s schedule.”

He picked up one of the printed papers, waving you over to sit in the empty seat next to him.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips, smiling and waving to all the superstars as you made your way to the front of the room.

“Is there anything you guys talked about?” You speculated, brushing your hands against the fabric of your dress before you sat.

Everyone remained dead silent, shaking their heads realizing Paul had strategically given you a different time just so he could give all of them the word of warning without you present.

For a moment you caught eyes with Seth who stood near the back of the room, arms crossed over his chest and he quickly moved his eyes elsewhere, shaking his head like everyone else.

Your dad clicked his tongue, getting your attention. “No, just that and briefly about the storylines you had been working on.” He replied smoothly, covering the previous discussion without you knowing.

“Maybe you should formally introduce yourself, since they don’t know very much about you.”

He sat back in his chair, nodding for you to go ahead. For some reason, it was more nerve-racking to talk to all of them at once instead of the usual one-on-one conversations you had been having with them as the week went on.

“Oh, okay,” you muttered, nodding your head as you stood up, taking a deep breath.

“My apologies in advance for how I look right now. As you could tell, I am horrible with time management.” You bit your lip, miming at your head of curlers.

The room snickered, somewhat relaxing you seeing that they weren’t as intimidating and scary as they came off. They all understood how hectic the job could get, and some of them were still needed to change into gear, which made you feel like it was no big deal after all.

“As you know I’m Paul and Stephanie’s eldest daughter and I am currently serving as a freshman creative writer and backstage producer on the main roster. But before this, I had been writing storylines for NXT, the developmental brand, for about a year and a half. And before that, I was working in freelance writing after I graduated college.” You said, gaining a little more confidence the more you spoke.

“On screen I play according to my dad, a semi-heel and semi-face heiress to the legacy in which my mother’s side of the family forged and now has merged with father. And now that you’re all here, I just wanted to say thank you for welcoming me with open arms and giving me the opportunity to be a part of your world.” You pressed your hands together, bowing slightly towards them.

You caught a few impressed nods and smiles from the superstars, clearly unaware of your extensive experience and appreciating that you gave them their flowers despite you still being so new to the main roster.

“It’s been a huge deal for me that my father trusts me with creating stories, and I know it’s important that you, the performers who make it your own, feel connected to them, therefore I am always open to talking and hearing what we could do to make it better. So please do not feel intimidated by me at all—I’m seriously the least intimidating person around here, and I can’t wait to work with you all.”

The room filled with a round of applause that made you smile in relief as you sat back down after what felt like eternity with all eyes on you. And of course, like your eyes were trained to look in his direction, you couldn’t miss Seth wearing a tight lip grin and giving you a subtle thumbs up as if he knew you would be looking his way.

Your dad reached over, giving you a small pat on the back, displaying a proud smile.

“Well, that wraps it up. Let’s have a good show tonight, alright?”

Everyone slowly began to file out of your dad’s office, a few superstars sticking around to catch up with him, while some came up to you, indicating their excitement at having you on board. Seth waited until you wrapped up with some of them before approaching you to do the same.

“Good job,” Seth spoke genuinely, giving your arm a gentle tap, “Didn’t know you had so much experience.”

You laughed softly, feeling at ease with him around compared to everyone else.

“I didn’t want to bore you with my resume.” You shrugged.

Your father turned his attention to you both, a surprised look spreading across his face as he gestured between you both.

“You guys met already?”

You looked up at Seth, nodding with a silly grin before turning to your dad. “I actually ran into him on Monday before the show. I was totally klutz and bumped into him.” You confessed embarrassingly.

“Sounds just about right.” Your dad joked, prompting you to roll your eyes.

“She did deceive me a little bit,” Seth started, tipping his head towards you, “Left out that she’s the boss’s daughter.”

Your dad let out a snort, shaking his head knowing that you partly did so because you didn’t want to gloat, but mostly because you wanted to keep your debut a surprise for as long as possible.

“How are you feeling today?” Paul asked curiously, lacing his fingers together as he sat back into his chair.

You played with your fingers idly, smiling a little, “I think I’m getting the hang of it, but I still get nervous getting on live tv.” You admitted.

“Well, tonight’s good practice. You’ve got three short segments with some superstars, so they’ll help you through it.”

Alexa Bliss, Kevin Owens, and Roman Reigns.

You had gone over the script an abundant amount of times having your lines memorized off the top of your head.

Alexa, you had met down in NXT before she was drafted onto the main roster, the two of you becoming good acquaintances outside of the ring. When she found out you two would be having a segment together, she immediately shot you a text, gushing about how excited she was.

Kevin was introduced to you by your dad on Monday night. Him voicing his delight that you decided to come work for the company and all nice things said about the storylines you had forged in NXT prior. He still had a few friends down in developmental who bragged about the storylines you and Shawn were working on together and now that he finally had a face to your name, he was excited about what else you’d do on the main roster.

Roman was someone you watched consistently on TV. He was a part of the same faction Seth and Dean were in—The Shield. You hadn’t met him on Monday since he was on paternity leave, but tonight, having him back in action was the perfect opportunity to introduce yourself.

“Speaking of that,” you diverted your eyes back up to Seth who lingered at your side, “Do you know where Roman might be? I didn’t get the chance to talk to him one on one yet.”

Seth nodded, pointing his thumbs towards the door.

“I’m pretty sure he’s in catering. I’m heading there now if you want to come with.” He offered politely.

And you nodded thankfully, getting up to reach over and give your dad a small hug, “I’ll stop by before the show.”

“Don’t forget to get those out of your hair,” he reminded, chuckling along with Seth as you shook your head. “See you later, Seth,” He added, giving the wrestler a firm handshake before you were on your way.

The hallways were busy with crew members rolling in carts and transporting equipment before doors opened—a rush you were just starting to get used to it. You and Seth were practically shoulder to shoulder trying not to get in anyone’s way. Each time your hand brushed against his arm, you muttered a quiet apology, to which he hushed you, saying it was nothing to worry about.

As the haste in the hallway slowly dwindled, you glanced at him. “Thanks for saying those kinds of things. I really appreciate it.”

So far, Seth was the one superstar you had multiple interactions with and he had been pleasant each and every single time. You figured it was because he held a lot of respect for your dad, but another part of you knew it was just him being a good person.

He met your eyes, nodding his head and rubbing his hands together, “I know how daunting it is, especially when you’re so new to the scene, but just know that everyone already thinks you’re killing it…me especially.” He bragged, gesturing to himself with a smirk.

Your cheeks rose with a smile. “Thank you,” you whispered, and it never seemed to leave your face after that.

Reaching catering, he held the door open for you, letting you through first. Renee and Charlotte had caught a glimpse and immediately waved at you, their eyes briefly widening when they saw Seth strolling in behind you. He said something to you, pointing towards Roman’s back at the same table where the rest of his friends sat.

“Yo, big dog!” He shouted, garnering Roman’s attention as the man looked over his shoulder.

Seth motioned to you then headed off to grab food while you walked up to the man. You immediately greeted him with a glowing smile and a small wave. He grinned, setting his fork down and sticking his hand out to shake yours.

“Hey! Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but I just wanted to say hello and introduce myself. I heard you and your wife just welcomed two new little ones—congratulations!” You bubbled, making him smile at the thoughtfulness.

Rising up out of his chair, he opening his arms and gave you a warm appreciative hug.

“Thanks, and it’s nice to meet you too.” He replied, before drawing away, “I saw what you did on Monday and man…the fans already love you.” He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I think they’re still a little skeptical if I’m going to be more like my mom’s character or my dad’s.” You threw your hands up, making him chuckle.

Nearly forgetting, your eyes widened, and you snapped your fingers.

“And hey, if you want to change anything about our segment, just let me know. I’m always in my office and if I’m not there, I’m probably hiding from my dad’s personal assistant.”

He and the rest of the table cracked a laugh, aware that your father kept a close eye on you, especially after what they gathered from the meeting.

“I appreciate that. It’s always nice to know I can talk to you,” He replied earnestly, his statement showing his gratitude before taking his seat again to continue eating.

“Wanna sit?” Seth offered, returning with a plate of food and he pulled out the empty chair beside him for you to take. You nodded, thanking him with a smile as you took a seat.

“So you said that before NXT you were working as a freelance writer,” Renee spoke, leaning towards you across the table and you nodded. “Anything we know you from?”

You thought for a moment, shaking your head.

“To be honest, I don’t think so. I did a lot of screenwriting after college. Short films and mini projects that didn’t really take off, but then after that I got really into creative writing and launched a tiny little column in the local paper about fictional entertainment.”

“Wow, you really are a workhorse.” Dean complimented.

“You have to show us one of your short films someday,” Seth chimed in, chuckling when he saw embarrassment flush over your cheeks.

You shook your head vigorously, covering your face, making everyone laugh and shake their heads.

“It was mediocre at the very least. A lot of angst and tropey plot lines.”

Maybe it was you attempting to be humble or truly just wanting to save yourself the mess, but they all knew deep down that you had a vividly gifted mind. It already proved itself to be true with the experience you had, but more so in the fact that you took the time to make sure everyone in the locker-room knew you were approachable because the storylines meant just as much to you as it did to them.

Charlotte reached across the table, grazing your hand, “We’re all going out to dinner tonight. You should join us!”

She extended the invitation with a friendly smile, hoping you would take her up on it, seeing as though they all wanted to get to know you more.

“You sure?” You asked hesitantly, not wanting to impose.

“Yeah, come on,” Seth nudged you gently, flashing you a toothy grin, “The restaurant we’re going to is known for the best steak in the city and I heard they’ve got a killer dessert menu.” His voice had a teasing lilt, as if trying to entice you.

You pressed your lips together, shoulders caving in shyly until you finally nodded.

“Sure, why not” You gave in, the table hooting with a frenzy, making you smile wider.

“I just have to ask my driver to drop me off. Do you mind giving me the address?” You asked, looking towards Charlotte.

“You could ride with me and Seth after the show,” Roman suggested, jutting his chin over at his buddy who nodded in agreement.

“And we’re staying at the same hotel, so it’ll be no problem getting back.” Seth added, his eyes meeting yours in a reassuring gaze.

You nodded, smiling happily, “That’s perfect, thank you so much! Should I meet you guys in the parking garage after the show?”

They nodded. “We’ll be there.”

“Great! I’m going to get these out of hair, but I’ll see you guys tonight!” You beamed, rising up and giving all of them a wave.

As you wandered away, you suddenly turned back on your heel, shooting Roman a playful point.

“And I’ll see you later for the segment!” You added eagerly, and he chuckled nodding as you went on your way.

By the time the main event match was wrapping up, gorilla was nearly empty. Just a few producers and your dad who hung back sticking around to congratulate Kevin and Roman.

You had been sitting in gorilla after your three segments had wrapped, needing a change in scenery while you worked through your final script and took some producer notes as your dad worked.

Soon enough Roman’s music hit, signaling the end of the show. The hard camera continued rolling for a few more seconds until your dad spoke through the headsets to cut, and soon the two superstars began making their way up the ramp.

You immediately stood up, walking over to the curtain to greet them, watching as they shook each other’s hand.

“Amazing match, you two,” you applauded.

The two men laughed when you stuck your arm out offering them a first bump, not wanting to give them a proper hug due to the sweat and they met your knuckles in a friendly manner.

Roman pointed at you, still catching his breath as a stage hand passed him a bottle of water.

“Parking garage, don’t forget.” He spoke and then chugged the liquid.

You nodded, thanking him for reminding you, “Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I wrap up here.”

He went over to your father and the rest of the producers, shaking their hands before heading to the locker room to catch a shower and gather his things for the road. You said goodnight to all that were leaving, thanking them for their kind words regarding your segment and all the work you had been doing so far.

Your dad took off his headsets, shrugging off his suit jacket.

“Where you headed off to?” He wondered, watching you collect your laptop and notebook from the monitor desks.

“Charlotte invited me out to dinner with a few people and I’m gonna catch a ride with Roman and Seth there.” You announced cheerfully, holding your things against your chest.

He smiled lovingly, happy to see that they were making an effort to make you feel extra welcomed.

“That’s nice of them. Just make sure you get back to the hotel alright. We have an early flight in the morning.”

“Of course, dad.” You nodded, going to give him a hug, “And if you see Eddie, tell him I said thank you for sending my stuff over to my suite.” You spoke against him.

He nodded, pressing a kiss to cheek forehead. “Shoot me a text when you turn in. I love you.”

“Love you too, dad.”

You quickly made a pit stop at your office to tidy up the space and grab the rest of your belongings, checking that you had everything before the arena locked up for the night. Anticipating the brisk cold of the night, you pulled on your black oversized blazer, giving the room one last look over before shutting the door and walking towards the back entrance where the parking garage was located.

You looked around, stepping further until you spotted Roman and Seth loading up the trunk of their rental with their bags while Charlotte, Renee, and Dean lingered against the rental beside them, making small talk while waiting for you.

Your heels clacked against the concrete, catching their attention.

“Thanks again for the ride,” you chirped, pausing near the boys who finished up sliding in their luggage and bags.

Seth frowned, looking down and around you.

“Where’s your stuff?” He wondered, pointing to the small space he reserved for your things.

You waved your hand off in the air, “Eddie sent it over to my suite earlier in the night. Didn’t want you guys doing extra arm work.”

Roman tsked, patted his biceps and flexing them dramatically, “Don’t worry, baby girl, these puppies can lift anything.”

You giggled, rolling your eyes playfully until Dean whistled, tossing his keys between his palms.

“Let’s get this show on the road. I want my steak pronto.” He said, rubbing his tummy.

You all began getting into your respective cars. Seth taking the liberty of motioning you to follow him, holding open the backdoor for you, “After you.”

“Thanks,” you murmured softly, sliding in and buckling your seatbelt.

He shut your door gently, walking around to the driver’s seat, getting the car started while Roman got comfortable in the passenger. The radio was on low, and Seth deliberately toggled with the climate control, turning on the heating for the backseat, knowing you were a bit chilly now that you sported a jacket over your dress.

He signalled for Dean to go first, waiting as the other car reversed out of the stall, and Seth followed behind en route to the restaurant that was just a few more minutes into the city.

Roman cleared his throat, briefly looking back at you. “How did you feel about your segments?”

You shifted in your seat, sitting up a tad. “It actually went better than I thought! It’s just the thought of the camera being there and the anticipation of going live that gets me all nervous.”

They both understood what you meant, and to be fair they had a bit of an advantage when they were first starting out. Seth, Roman, and Dean having each other to lean on during segments, matches, and promos which made the whole thing feel less intimidating and prepared them for when they became singles competitors.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, the crowd is already receptive to you and you have good chemistry with everyone you’ve worked with so far.” Seth said kindly, eyes looking at you in the rearview, catching a smile that spread across your face even in the dingy lighting of the car.

The rest of the drive was full of chitchat—Roman gushing over his kids, pride sweltering as he spoke about them and how much he missed them while on the road. Seth expressed the same feelings, except regarding his adorable yorkie named Kevin who he had since his NXT days.

You had a little bit of both—three little sisters whom you were extremely close with, and like a second mother figure to them, and childhood dogs who snuggled you each time you came to visit home.

When you all arrived, Seth the ever gentleman he was, opened your door, helping you out before you all walked in. The restaurant was rustic yet sleek, nothing too fancy or out of the ordinary, which was charming for a nice spot in the city. The heavy wooden doors gave way to the space adorned with marble countertops and wooden panelling that complimented the setting.

“You guys can follow me…” the hostess instructed, guiding your group towards the back of the restaurant in a secluded corner perfect for all seven of you.

Everyone picked their seats—Dean and Renee sitting on one side along with Charlotte. Roman sat at the head of the table and you and Seth sat directly across from the trio, with you on the tail end.

He pulled out the chair for you, nodding his head as you smiled and bowed slightly at the gesture. “Why thank you,” you giggled, taking a seat as he pushed the chair in slightly and took the empty adjacent to Roman.

The hostess got you all started with some menus, letting you all browse over it before she would come back and get your orders. You flipped through the laminated pages, picking two items just in case they were out of the other.

You peered over at Seth who was doing the same until you nudged your elbow gently into his, gaining his attention as he perked up and nodded towards you.

“What are you getting?”

“A medium rare tomahawk, potatoes, and a water,” He said without skipping a beat or taking another look at the menu, “I already knew what I was gonna get.”

The act alone made you giggle, shaking your head at him as he too broke out into a laugh, watching you fold up your menu as you settled down.

“So you were just trying to fit in the whole time?” You bantered, narrowing your eyes at him.

He rubbed his hands over his chest, nodding, “I didn’t want to be the only one not looking at the menu.” He whispered, eyes shifting to everyone else who was still deciding what they were going to get.

You sat back, folding your arms across your chest, shifting an inch closer to him, “I probably won’t get anything too fancy, but I am definitely getting some red wine…you’re not having a beer?”

He shook his head, mimicking your action, his shoulder pressed against your arm. “I am transporting precious cargo and I would hate for you to suffer even a scratch.”

You felt warm all over, trying to suppress another smile that always seemed to be incessantly glued to your face whenever Seth said something nice to you. And you failed to conceal it again, letting your cheeks rise.

“I appreciate your chivalry.” You spoke quietly enough for just him to hear.

“You’re getting dessert after too, right?” He insisted, pointing at the image of a chocolate lava cake that he was most certainly talking up earlier in the night.

You pursed your lips, not knowing if you could stomach it by yourself. “Wanna split it?”

He smirked, nodding, “Yeah sure, but just letting you know, I am going to ask for a scoop of vanilla ice cream over top.”

“Sounds divine.” You wiggled your brows, making him chuckle.

Dinner was full of laughter, with food and drinks served on the side. It had been a while since you had been around people who made you laugh so much without even trying too hard. All of them were so lively, cracking jokes left and right and somehow still being able to carry a casual conversation without missing a beat.

You felt safe around all of them, a kind of camaraderie that didn’t make you feel as if you were just solely the boss’s daughter, but rather a friend in the making through your new venture in life. Good things took time, and you knew the friendships you were going to make with all of them was totally worth it.

“No, they did not!” Renee and Charlotte stared at you wide eyed, the rest of the table bursting out into laughs while you nodded your head instantaneously and rested your palms on the tabletop, leaning towards them.

“I swear to god, I’m not making this up!” You drew an x over your heart, holding your palms in the air.

“Maybe I pissed the guy off for turning him down, but there I was getting ready to drive to class and that piece of shit spray painted “suck it!” all over my car!” You exclaimed, disturbed, but not for long, as you threw your head back and laughed uncontrollably.

The girls followed suit, hunching over the table, reaching for your arms and clinging to you while you all laughed like little kids. You had no clue how you got to talking about your terrible college experience with boys, but somehow you got there, and everyone was dumbfounded that one guy you turned down would go all Degeneration X on you.

“Your parents must have been pissed, right?” Dean sought, settling down with a stiffled laugh.

Your eyes widened as you nodded, sipping on your wine before you replied.

“Oh, they were livid once they first found out! But eventually when it passed, and I got it painted over, we just couldn’t stop laughing because it was just so absurd.”

Roman shook his head, staring at you in amazement.

“I can’t believe we didn’t know about you this entire time. Your parents really kept you out of the limelight, huh?”

You nodded, “That, and the fact that having a baby out of wedlock really wasn’t something my parents wanted out at the time—mostly because of my grandpa Vince.”

They all winced, grinning guiltily knowing of course Vince of all people was the one who wanted to keep his daughter’s premarital pregnancy under wraps. Thankfully, now it wasn’t such a big deal and you and your parents found it slightly comical.

“What’s funny is that I swore I saw you running up and down the arenas back when I was like 10 and you were like 3?” Charlotte recalled, looking over at you puzzled.

You nodded, gesturing up at your hair. “If my hair was in pigtails and I sported a gigantic DX shirt as a dress, then yes. That was totally me causing trouble in the corridors.”

Seth peered at you, watching you closely. “How come you didn’t want to get into the business sooner?”

You sighed heavily, shrugging your shoulders, “I don’t know. I guess I just thought it was too much. Too much business. Too much drama. Too many feelings getting hurt, especially when family is involved.” You pointed out to which everyone understood.

“How’d your dad convince you?” He added, knowing it must have not been so easy.

You set your elbow on the table, resting your chin on your first as you stared at him ardently.

“I had a feeling my dad was going to take over the company, and at that time I wasn’t doing a lot, so when he came to me and pitched the idea, I was a teeny bit hesitant, but he promised me I could have all the creative freedom I wanted. So long as I didn’t erase history or disregarded any talent’s input.”

Seth nodded along, listening to you express your relationship with the company and most importantly your dad. It was clear that you had no intentions of getting involved because to be fair you loved what you did on your own, but you took a risk and fell in love with writing storylines that were refreshing for the product and the new era of television they were in.

Many of the superstars, including Seth were thrilled when it was announced that Paul was taking over, but adding you into the mix made everything feel a little different in the best way possible. Usually writers and producers pushed back against their ideas and suggestions, but you exhibited a profound way of keeping and getting them involved in the product behind the scenes in a way that many never got to chance to have.

He knew, just as well as everyone else that you were going to leave your mark. The way you talked about your craft and the sincerity that leaked with every word had him enthralled—that was until Dean broke up the stare he had on you.

“We better cross our fingers we get a script written by you.” Dean raised his glass, breaking the silence.

You blinked slowly, the warmth still lingering in the air between you and Seth as you shifted your eyes to the rest of your friends lifting their glasses to you.

“To the Levesque Era,” Seth declared, following suit and nodding for you to pick up your wine glass.

“And new beginnings,” you continued, your voice soft but sanguine, the rim of your glass clinking with his lightly as you repeated the sentiment with everyone else.

As promised, you and Seth shared a chocolate molten lava cake topped with vanilla bean ice cream. The two of you sliding the plate between each other, sitting back comfortably as you listened to everyone catch you up on what they were up to in their lives outside the company.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the hostess. You smiled at her, straightening up as she approached. Subtly, you handed her your card, and she nodded, promising to be back with the receipt.

As she walked away and you discreetly tucked your wallet back into your purse, Seth leaned in over your shoulder, wondering what you were up to.

“What did you just do?” He asked, his mouth still full, staring at you with a mix of suspicion and amusement.

You looked back at him, slowly relaxing back as you bit your lip and tried to pretend you didn’t hear him the first time.

“What do you mean?” you raised your brow at him.

He swallowed, shaking his head. “Did you just pay? I told you it was on us,” He protested, eyes widening in playful disbelief.

“Oh hey c’mon, that’s cheating.” Roman chimed in, pointing at you.

You held your hands up in defense, a smirk playing on your lips. “No, seriously, it’s on me. You guys invited me out, and it’s the least I could do.”

“Next time we’re baring you from even sticking your hand in your purse,” Renee threatened, sticking her hand out for you to shake on it.

Giggling, you nodded as you clasped her hand. “You have my word.”

You let go, all of you beginning to wrap up and get ready to head out for the night.

Seth, still shaking his head, leaned closer, a mischievous look in his eyes.

“You’re something else, you know that?”

“Just trying to make a good impression.” You argued with a playful shrug.

“Well, you’re definitely succeeding,” he retorted, voice true despite the teasing tone that came along with it.

The night winded down perfectly, zero traffic heading back to the hotel and sleepiness just on the precipice of settling behind your eyes. You, Seth, and Roman said goodnight to three after you and the girls exchanged phone numbers while the men got their bags and suitcases unloaded from the trunks.

“What floor?” Roman ordered, looking over towards you and Seth entering the elevator.

“Six,” you and Seth said in unison, turning to each other with matching looks of surprise and a shared laugh. Roman chuckled as he pressed the buttons for both floors.

The elevator hummed quietly as it ascended, a comfortable silence settling over the three of you after the night of laughter and conversations you had. When it dinged on Roman’s floor, he reached around, pulling you into a small hug.

“Thanks again for dinner.”

“Of course! You have a good night.” You replied warmly, returning the hug and stepping back. Roman and Seth exchanged a firm handshake, a silent nod of understanding between them before Roman exited the elevator.

As the doors closed, and continued its ascension to the sixth floor, Seth turned to you with a gentle smile. “Want me to walk you to your room?”

You nodded without a second thought, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.

“I’d like that.”

The hallway was quiet and shadowy, the carpeted floors muffling your footsteps and rolling of his suitcase as you walked sided by side. Your room was at the end of the corridor, just a few doors away from him. Stopping in front of your door, you searched your bag for the keycard.

“Thanks again for tonight.” He kept his eyes on you, catching the way you looked up past your lashes, and shook your head with a small smile.

“It’s the least I could do, and thank you for making me feel welcomed. It really means a lot to me.” You said, finally fishing the key out of your bag.

“Any chance I can treat you for coffee in the morning?” He proposed politely, wanting to return the gesture.

But you pouted wistfully, shaking your head and feeling genuinely bummed.

“I’ve actually got an early flight. It’s my little sister’s birthday and me and my dad are surprising her.” You apologized, wishing your fight was later in the day.

Seth nodded understandingly, not letting his disappointment show past his smile. “That’s alright. Tell her I said happy birthday.”

You grinned, nodding, “Of course! And I’ll definitely take you up on that coffee date when I get back.” You promised, eyes twinkling with anticipating for it.

“Looking forward to it,” he breathed, his gaze lingering on you as you slid the key into your door, turning the handle.

You gave him one last smile, feeling just a tad reluctant to end the night despite your tiredness.

“Night, Seth.”

“Night sweetheart.” He said quietly, watching as you stepped inside and offered him one last wave before shutting the door.

And so he walked back a few doors down, looking down your way one last time, already hoping for the next time he’d see you again.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: i hope you guys like chapter two of icsy!!! i was aiming to do something domestic and fun, and i thought why not dinner with the whole crew and a side of seth and reader flirting like idiots the whole time??? let me know what you guys think and i cannot wait for you to read the next chapter (hehehe it's already one of my faves <3).

[fictionalmenxyn]

✫𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐘/𝐥/𝐧 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡✫

Pairing: cowboy!rafe x cowgirl!reader

(Not apart of the possible fic, this is just a blurb)

Warning: language

(Outfit of reader: white baby tee, blue flared jeans and your famous brown cowboy boots.)

--᪥☆𓃗☆᪥--

It was a sunny afternoon at the ranch, sky is clear and the warmth hitting your skin.

You were sat in your ‘chill’ room that was next to the living room. You’d call it a man cave but there was no beer or sports related things. It was your record room, you may be nineteen but you know your older music well. Your parents grew you up on 70s, 80s and 90s music. So you have your range of taste.

You walked out to your turn table, pushing up the lid. You reached over one of your shelves and grabbed one of your favourite albums, Rumours by Fleetwood Mac.

Slipping the vinyl out of its case, you gently placed it down on the turn table.

You skipped to your favourite song, also the second on the track, Dreams.

The song kicked in as you turned up the volume. You feel the music in your feet and you tapped to the beat. Sitting in your armchair. Your boot tapped the wooden floorboard.

Your voice like honey, sweet and smooth. With a slightly rasp your sang “now here you go again, you say you want your freedom.” You head bops subconsciously “well who am I to keep you down…”

You snag to the song. Completely forgetting Rafe was supposed to be coming over soon to help your father with the cattle.

You continued to bop your head and tap your foot as you sang to yourself. Your eyes shut as you feel the music.

Rafe had just pulled up to the ranch, aligning his truck door shut, he made his way to the porch.

He could hear the music as he got closer. He looked in the slightly opened window, seeing you. Sat in your chair, feeling the music. He smiled at the sight. Then his eyes widened slightly as he heard you sing.

“Now here I go again, I see the crystal vision… I keep my visions to myself, it’s only me who wants to wrap around your dreams…and have you any dreams you’d like to sell?…”

If his jaw could physically drop to the ground, he’d let it.

“Dreams of loneliness, like a heartbeat drives you mad… and the stillness of remembering what you had… and what you lost, and what you had, oh what you lost…”

He watched you in awe, who knew his girl had such a voice. Don’t get him wrong, he knew you could shout and had a good set of lungs on you. But to sound almost exactly like Stevie Nicks, it wowed him.

He kept watching as you sang, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“Women, they will come and they will go, when the rain washes you clean you know.. oh thunder only happens when it’s raining, players only love you when they’re playing…”

He smiled to himself, he had to see this more often. Yeah, he heard you do karaoke down at the bar in town, but you were drunk.

“Say women, they will come and they will go, when rain washes you’ll clean you know.. oh thunder only happens when it’s raining… you’ll know… you’ll know, oh you’ll know…”

The song fades out and the next track of the album plays. He can see the soft smile on your face. He knew this was your favourite album, that’s why he bought it for you. Your parents had the album before, but it was lost up in the attic of your ranch. When he listened to you complaining for a solid ten minutes about it. He knew he had to get for you.

He smirked as you weren’t singing no more. “Hey, you should sing proud Mary f’me sometime.” He knew you liked Creedence Clearwater Revival.

Your eyes shot open at the sudden voice and saw Rafe. “Rafe! Jesus…”

“Nope, I’m not Jesus, you had it right the first time…”

“Oh piss off..”

“Nah, you know you can’t get rid of, besides, I’m here for your dad.”

You nodded as you got up and walked out of your record room and to the front door. You unlocked it and opened the front door then the screen door. He smiled down at you “hey baby, nice voice you got.”

You smiled as he leaned down and hugged you “hey, thank you, just don’t scare me like that next time” you both laughed.

He pulls away a little, still in each other’s embrace. He smiled then give you a soft kiss, which you returned. He looked in your bright eyes “so where’s your ol’ man?”

You nodded your head to the side “the stables, he’s checking up on Harley.” He smiled “she had her foal yet?” You shook your head “any day now, though…” he smiled and nodded. He stood up straight, but giving you one last kiss before he did.

“Alright, I’ll come back with your dad after we’re done, a’ight?” You smile and nodded “two cold beers are waiting.” He smirked “atta girl, see ya later, love ya.”

You smiled “love ya too…”

You leaned against the doorframe as you watched Rafe make his way over to the stables. You smiled as you saw him walk over to your father. You headed back inside and over to your record room.

Sitting in your chair once again.

Later that day, after they had finished working at the ranch. You placed two cold Coors cans on the outdoor glass table. Your father sat on his rocking chair, Rafe sat on the swinging bench on the back porch. You took a seat next to Rafe as both men talked. He had his arm on the back of the swinging bench. His finger tracing patterns on your shoulder, as you rest your head on his shoulder.

The sky turned into a pink and orange hue, the sun sets. Few of your dogs ran around the large open back yard. Your dad throwing a ball every so often for the dogs.

Moments like these you cherish. Even if it’s simply sitting in the back yard with your father and Rafe. Your mother and three siblings soon joined you three out the back. Your younger siblings making roasted marshmallows on the fire pit. Your youngest brother Daniel, would bring over two marshmallows and give one to both you and Rafe.

--᪥☆𓃗☆᪥--

[tamberrio]

Do you guys see my vision do you

Nerdy thoughts about characters and the world in the au under the cut (Slight spoilers for plot of both BSD and Reverse:1999 I guess?)

ok ok so:

Dazai is the Time Keeper and works at the St. Pavlov Foundation. The ADA would basically be the small branch of the Foundation that Vertin oversees in the actual story. To that end, I can snag a couple character rolls for the BSD characters.

Dazai is Vertin, obviously. He was just as rebellious as a kid as she was, and made friends with the outside world (Oda) only to watch them die to the storm. So now the Foundation makes him go to the different time periods and collect data on why he and his suitcase are immune. Since I know Vertin is like 16 in the game, I thought I should age everyone down just slightly to fit that teenagers-doing-dangerous-things-that-should-be-left-to-adults vibe, so now he is 18 when he finds Atsushi, who is 14.

Kunikida would probably play a Sonnetto role, being the studious type who tries to follow all the rules and make sure the Time Keeper stays on track.

Yosano would probably be best suited as a Doctor in the Foundation but is saved strictly for the ADA’s branch. Probably a Medicine Pocket type of character? I actually have a draft of her where I take heavy inspiration from X’s butterfly scarf thing because thematically I think it’s perfect. I don’t know if she would exactly fit Mesmer Jr.’s role, since it includes a betrayal against Vertin along with Dubious medical practices within her family. Although the dubious medical practices thing could fit well, I don’t think the betrayal really suits her character in that regard.

Ranpo wouldn’t be an arcanist, but we have actual human characters in the story who are playable (like Ezra is human I believe), so he could use his deduction skills that way. They’d probably try to keep him away from the front lines when possible, so as not to risk him if the storm appears.

Thematically, Atsushi would be Regulus, since she’s the first to be found by Vertin in the actual story. Otherwise, Atsushi would be completely different in terms of backstory. It’s hard to tell in these sketches, but I tried to give him a coat similar to Regulus but not recognizable as such. He’d be a Beast Aflatus, obviously. Arcanists are very much discriminated against in the actual story, so that would fit really well with him. I figured Atsushi could be immune to the storm too, since his tiger has the power to cut through abilities, similar to how Dazai can nullify them.

Ango would be Madam Z, because of his strenuous relationship with the Time Keeper due to past betrayals, and his want to keep the Time Keeper out of harms way. Mori could be his direct supervisor for a time, and Ango can be complicit in the “trap” made for Dazai to get him to be more agreeable. He’d help reduce the influence the Foundation has on the Time Keeper’s decisions. Fukuzawa could be good for this role of “overlooking the team” as well.

As for the Foundation itself, I think it would be a mix of the government and the port mafia, while having Manus Vindictae be the Decay of Angels/Rats (Fyodor would make a really good villain in that regard). Although it’s hard to picture some of the port mafia members working at the Foundation, I can still pick and choose who goes where.

Every other character probably wouldn’t have a direct comparison, but that’s what I have so far. This is probably WAY easier to follow if you know the plot of Reverse: 1999 but I’ll come up with a more comprehensive doc later.

[pandorasfavorite]

Don't touch me (I don't mind)

AN: enemies to lovers

“I can’t fucking stand you!”, you say through your gritted teeth, speeding through the halls.

Dominik storms after you and you can hear his shoes smack against the floor harshly. His hand clasps on your shoulder forcing you to turn around and face him. His eyes brows are pushed together and he's pointing to himself, "Yea? Well I didn't ask for this!", Dominik practically seethes. His forehead is creased in irritation and the small interaction. "I guess that makes two of us", you fire back and turn around, ignoring his muttering of short lived anger.

His arm snags around your waist pulling you into his chest, "Let's just get this over with", he says less than pleased. You ignore what he says and you ignore how close he was.... how good it felt to be against him. The idea of liking Dominik made your anger towards him worse, though you didn't mind the possibility one day. Putting on an act for the cameras was the last thing you wanted to do though. You walk forward with Dominik in tow, his hand that was once on your waist shifting to lay on the dip of your back. His same hand was unmoving but his eyes trailed your body, unknown to you, he loved touching every inch of your skin that he could.

Both your and Dominik's names are announced together, 'the dangerous lovers' tagged onto the end. Dominik immediately switched into character the second the music played, his small frown turning into a cocky grin when he pulled you into his side, now slinging his arm over your shoulder. You grunt but grin nonetheless, walking with suggestive sway, your arm wrapped around Dominik's torso comfortably.

Cheers and boos are mashed together fueling Dominik's confidence in his character, just before he gets into the ring he pulls away from you. But not before grabbing you by the chin and pressing a hard passionate kiss to your lips, the peppermint flavor of his gum being one of the many things you registered from that moment. Your face lights up in embarrassment at the public display but also at the fact that Dominik has never done that before. No one has questioned the reason why you and Dominik haven't kissed on screen but not they won't have to. You stand there for a moment only to bring your finger tips to your lips, touching the tingly area; you turn on your heel with wide eyes, just barely willing yourself to stand on ringside.

From within the ring, Dominik's eyes are following you but his arms are holding Dragon Lee still. The distraction wasn't good for Dominik but he was addicted to it. He was addicted to watching you walk away, to watching you yell at him to hurry up, obsessed with you angry....he couldn't get enough.

Dominik is getting hit over and over and Dragon is so close to a pin but you could never keep your mouth shut, something Dominik didn't like about you or so he claims. "DOMINIK GET UP!", you yell and smack the ring from where you standing right in front of him. Dominik's cheek was pressed to the mat, his eyes locking with yours from between the ropes and he couldn't embarrass himself in front of you. Dominik managed to kick out, not giving Dragon Lee enough time to sit in the disappointment.

The moment Dominik wins he flies up and out of the ring, wrapping his arms strongly and lifting you off the floor spinning you around. The NXT belt is given to him and he drops his head in a smile, lifting it above his head for everyone to see who holds it. You stand beside him with a soft smile, genuinely proud of his success. Dominik drops his arm down and looks at you, eyes shining in excitement, your fingers touch his belt and Dominik pushes it towards you. Your grin only got wider, you clasp your hand in Dominiks, pulling both you and him back into the ring. You force him to stand in the middle of the ring and you pull the belt around the front of his body, clasping it around him.

You move in front of Dominik, crouching to see his belt, your fingertips flutter along the front of his belt and you stand face-to-face with Dominik now. Dominik is out of control and he can't stop himself from pressing a fast kiss to your awaiting lips, pulling back so quickly you were disappointed by the fact you couldn't taste the mint.

He clasps both your hands together one final time and shoots them in the air, confirming both your's and Dominik's victory.

[rowiewritesstuff]

Is it possible for a tfp shockwave crushing on a cybertronian scientist reader? and he starts courting her without even knowing :)

TFP Shockwave X Cybertronian! Scientist! Reader

Okay what do you call the room where they eat? Because cafeteria sounds super goofy.

You were one of the most wanted on the Nemesis. You were kind, intelligent, and yet ruthless. You were one of Megatron’s most loyal followers- and yet you still called him out when you saw scrap come out of his mouth. You and Soundwave were probably the only ones allowed to do so. 

When Shockwave came aboard the Nemesis, you were excited. Finally, another scientist to help out! Knockout was okay, but he was better at breaking things than creating.

You introduced yourself to Shockwave as the head scientist of the Nemesis. He was first unsure how someone so bubbly could ever have the role of head-scientist for the Decepticons, but he realized the utter lack of general scientific intelligence on Earth. 

“I suppose I’m the second head scientist now, huh?” You grinned at him. 

Shockwave merely nodded at you, unsure how else to react to your general bubbliness.

Shockwave soon introduced you all to the Predaking, who you were in awe at. You praised Shockwave up and down for his creation. You assisted him meticulously with the rest of his work. He grew to see you as a partner in science- one that could actually keep up with him. Not many could do so. 

He didn’t realize what his feelings were for you at first. He’d never felt anything like this before. He thought that maybe he was sick, so he went to see Knockout- big mistake on his part.

“Oh?” Knockout had a shit eating grin on his faceplate. “I never thought someone like you could have a crush!”

Shockwave tilted his head. “Crush? Is that a disease?” 

A bark of laughter came from the red mech. “No. You have feelings for them.” Knockout patted the larger con’ on the shoulder. “Good luck, though- almost everyone has their eyes on them.”

Shockwave felt an uncharacteristic wave of irritation at the fact others wanted you. He went back to work, trying to ignore all of the feelings. ‘Illogical’ he thought to himself.

One day, he noticed you hadn’t refueled- so he brought you a cube. While he didn’t want to admit it, he adored the bright smile on your faceplates. 

A while later, he noticed that your favorite tool had broken- so he got you a newer, better version of it. You were so grateful that you hugged him. If he had a face, it would have been a bright blue.

One day, he was walking past the cafeteria. He looked in to see a Vehicon leaning over you. “Come on, just one date! I can be pretty romantic, ya’ know.” 

Shockwave was about to come over and pull you away when you abruptly stood up. “Sorry, I’m spoken for. I do appreciate the invitation, though!”

Everyone was shocked. Who had managed to snag you? Shockwave felt a pang in his spark that he couldn’t describe hearing you had someone. 

Your optics landed on him from across the room as an adorable grin plastered on your faceplates. “Speaking of my date! Come on, sweetspark!” You pulled the shocked mech away towards the lab. 

Everyone stood in shock, except for Knockout. “Finally! It’s like watching paint dry.” 

“Wh-when did we begin courting?” Shockwave stuttered- something he’s never done before.

“Uh, you brought me two gifts sweetie. Did you not mean it like that?” Your eyes looked up at him saddened.

“It was intentional.” He lied. “Come on, we have to finish the calculations we were working on.”

“Alright!” you cheered as you grabbed his servo in his. 

He didn’t know how this happened, but he hoped it would last.

[seriesxwriting]

Let me show you who I really am

Pairing- Kol Mikaelson

Series- vampire diaries

Summary- usually you’d get quite a few boys ask you to prom, but not this year. Apparently they were all scared of your admirer who wanted you all to himself.

Warnings- kissing, vampire killing, mentions of blood, detailed description of killing.

“I can’t believe it was over a month since I posted- I apologise! I will try to be more active but sitting A levels has apparently hindered my ability to come up with ideas. Just bare with me <3”

It was finally the day of our school prom. I’d been stressing about what to wear, how to have my hair, what colour to use on my lips. But the biggest thing I was stressing about, was who I was going to go with. It’s not a flex but in the past I’ve had multiple offers from boys to go to dances or gatherings. But this time, nothing. Not one offer. I even went out my way asking hector wathe to come with me, seems we’d gone to a dance together last term. But he just shook his head and ran away from me. I would have been embarrassed if I wasn’t consumed with confusion about his behaviour.

So I gave up on the date thing, assumed I’d be going myself. But my girl’s picked me up, ditched their dates so they could come with me. Prom was about friendship anyway. Not a random boy I’d forget once I made a life for myself.

“Y/n? Is that you?” My mother called as I walked through the door. I smiled as she entered the hallway with a giant box in her arms. “This came for you sweetheart” she edged over to me passing the box into my arms. “What is it?” I questioned frowning. “We haven’t opened it, it’s private” she shrugged staring at the box. I could see her mind was racing with the possibilities of what could be inside. “Thanks mum” I swallowed joining in with her thinking myself. Who was it from. What was in it. I carried it up the stairs as my mum filtered back into the living room to watch whatever was on the tv. I put the box on my bed and then lifted the lid off it, curious about the details. There was a note on top of the white tissue paper.

“Saw this and it reminded me of you, thought you’d look good in it, like you do in everything” I whispered as I read it out to myself. My eyes flicked down to the bottom “from Kol” my eyes widened at the three letters of his name. Kol? Why would Kol send me a dress? What game was he playing? Sure id noticed his eyes lingering on me for a while too long before and noticed how his deep eyes compelled me to stare into them until I melted. But that doesn’t give him a reason to send me a dress. I placed the card on my bed and unwrapped the tissue paper. I pulled out this gorgeous emerald dress. It had a silver strip coming from the waistline all the way down the sides of the leg spilt. It looked as if they’d put the gems on by hand, one at a time taking precaution not to ruin or snag any part of it. The dress was slightly off the shoulders which would make my chest look great.

It was overwhelming. It must have cost a fortune. But here it was in my house, lying on my bed. All because of Kol? A Mikaelson was showing me more interest than any of the boys from school. He was supposed to be a sworn enemy, and because of that, I folded the dress back up and put it back in the box. I already had a dress. It was a lot simpler and less expensive but it was mine. And it wasn’t gifted to me by a deranged, gorgeous psychopath. No I meant a deranged, bloodthirsty, psychopath. Not gorgeous. I couldn’t have meant gorgeous. Putting the note back, I lifted the box putting it under my bed where no one would find it. I’d give it back to him if I ever got the chance. It wasn’t right to keep it let alone wear it. Plus I was running out of time overthinking this, I had to get ready.

I curled my hair after my shower and put on my red dress. It didn’t have sparkles on it, but it did have a cute leg slit and a nice tied up back. “Mum!! Can you come and do me up!!” I yelled out of my room. A minute or two later she came plodding up the stairs. She stopped in front of me smiling and her eyes filling up as she raised a finger to wipe her tear. “Oh y/n you look so gorgeous” she whimpered walking over to hug me. “Thanks mum” I whispered nuzzling my face into her neck with a grin across my cheeks. “Come on, let me tie the back” she smiled ushering me over to the mirror. “Oh- y/n have you noticed this rip?” She blinked looking at the back of me. “RIP?! Where!!” I turned around trying to have a look in the mirror. “Here?” She pointed looking stressed herself. “Oh god- what am I going to do- can you fix it?” I blinked at her in utter panic. “No- well yes- but not in time for your prom” she shook her head having a closer look at it. “Come on, I’ll need to work fast, you’ll only be a little late, take it off” she patted me on the back but I eyed the box sticking out from under my bed. “No- no it’s okay, I’ll wear something else” I blinked, not taking my eyes off it. “Something else? What else do you possibly have to wear to a prom?” She raised an eyebrow following my eyeline.

“I’ll meet you and dad downstairs, give me ten minutes” I smiled rubbing her shoulder. “Alright…” she trailed off leaving my room full of confusion. I didn’t move. I swallowed staring at the box. Would it be completely wrong to wear it? I had nothing else I could wear. Surely my friends would understand. I sighed walking over to it, clipping on the floor in my black heels. Taking it out from under my bed. I held it up over my body looking at it in the mirror. I put my head on one side thinking for a second. Before removing all the thoughts out of my head and putting it on. I walked down stairs to my parents sitting in the front room. Their eyes widened as I walked in. “Y/n! That dress is stunning where did you get it?” My mother gasped covering her mouth with her hand.

“It was a gift” I bit my lip not wanting to say anymore. “You look amazing darling, you’ll be the best dressed there” my dad smiled at me. With that the door bell rang. “That must be the girls” I smiled rushing out as fast as the dress would let me go. But when I opened the door the girls weren’t there. Kol was. He stood with his famous smirk, his hand held a big bunch of roses as his eyes looked me up and down. “So I was right, it does suit you” he joked, my jaw was ajar now staring at him. “What are you doing here- why are you wearing a suit and- why do you have flowers- why did you send me a dress?” I hissed coming outside closing the door so my parents wouldn’t hear us. “Because I’m taking you to prom” “erm- no you’re not!” I scoffed almost laughing. “You don’t have a date? So why can’t it take you?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“There are a number! Of reasons why you can’t take me to prom kol” I laughed before the realisation sank in. “How the hell do you know I don’t have a date?” I whispered frowning at him. His brown eyes slimmed on me as his smirk widened. “I may have sent out a message to some guys- that you were taken” he shrugged his shoulders. “What?” I blinked in disbelief, my breath hitched. “I want to take you, I don’t want other guys putting their hand on you” he told me slamming his eyebrows down. “You’re serious?” I asked him in a quiet voice. “You’re a vampire kol- you’ve hurt my friend- not only that you’re an original…” I trailed off holding the door handle. “And what?” He shrugged laughing. “I’m here aren’t I? I’m not lying I’m not causing trouble- a vampire can’t admit his feelings for a girl?”. “Feelings? For me? I’m just an ordinary human Kol” “you’re not ordinary y/n- you’re different from your friends, different from all humans” he smiled staring into my eyes. “How” I slimmed my eyes at him shaking my head not believing a word that came out of his mouth.

“You think you can put me on the spot y/n?” Kol chuckled to himself. “The way you carry yourself, the way you stick to your morals, your loyalty to those you love, your way of seeing the best in people even if they have hurt your friends- you’re out here talking to me, you could have stayed in your house in the safety- so you must be slightly intrigued or trust me slightly- just give me a chance y/n” he put his head to the side as I consumed everything he dumped on me. “I will protect you- treat you right- I just want a chance to show you who I really am, I don’t want anything more to do with klaus and his mess- let me show you that” he begged, I saw it in his eyes. He wasn’t lying, if he was he was a damn good lier. I wasn’t wearing vvraine so he could have compelled me but, he didn’t. “Okay- you have one night to make me feel anything but uncomfortable around you” I raised my eye brow at him reaching out for the flowers. I smiled at them clutching them between my arms. “I’m gonna grab my bag and text the girls to meet me there- you can wait here” I told him with a little smile warming up to the idea of Kol Mikaelson liking me. If he was a normal boy this would be so much easier, he was attractive- he was gorgeous. But he wasn’t normal, he’s a vampire who’s been around 1000 years longer than me.

I did as I said I would before saying goodbye to my parents. I met Kol outside his car where he opened the door for me before getting in his own side. He drove us to prom while keeping up basic conversation, which just intrigued me more. I wanted to know what he was up to. We got to the prom location in under twenty minutes. When no one was looking Kol vamp ran round to my side and opened my door for me. “Kol!” I hissed shaking my head. “Don’t do that you could get caught” I whispered as he put his hand out for me. I took it gently. “They wouldn’t be alive very long if they did catch me darling” he whispered in my ear as I stepped out. “I don’t want any killings here tonight, or I’ll never forgive myself” I widened my eyes at him. “Yes mam” he smirked leaning in closer to me. There wasn’t much room between my back and the car or my front and kol. “I can hear your heart racing darling” he whispered tucking my hair behind my ear. “Don’t worry, I won’t kiss you until you ask me to, and you will” he winked before stepping back and putting his arm out for me.

“You’re delusional” I giggled rolling my eyes taking his arm. We walked towards the enterance and kitty Renfeild stood outside with a camera. “Hey y/n- and y/n’s handsome date” she winked at Kol who completely blanked her without him even knowing I was looking at him. His arm wrapped around my waist and he whispered “going have to get a little closer now love” he pulled me into his body. The flick of jealously I felt from kitty’s comment was what I blamed my actions on. I pressed my body against him putting my other hand on Kols chest. I heard him chuckle as I posed for the photo. “Have fun” she told us after snapping the photo and in we went. There were lot of people here even though we were maybe ten minutes early. There were flashing lights and drink tables everywhere. People were already dancing to the shit music playing. “Has Kol Mikaelson ever been to a high school prom?” I asked him smiling up. “Oh I’ve been to my fair share of dances, balls and whatever was going on in the 1920s but never a prom” he laughed catching my eyes. “And I’ve never had such a gorgeous date to attend any of these events with” he winked. “Quite the charmer ain’t you” I nudged him gently.

“Y/n? What’s this all about?”. I look up and see Elena, Bonnie and Caroline all staring at me like I’m an alien. Or, staring at Kol like he’s an alien. “Hey girls…” I trailed off as my heart started pounding. Kol clearly picked up on it because his grip round my waist became tighter. “I can explain, I have a thing for y/n- have done ever since I laid my eyes on her and i decided now was the time to tell her” “what” Carolin blinked in horror. “He’s a Mikaelson y/n” Elena widened her eyes at me. “He doesn’t want to be involved anymore” I shook my head at her hoping they’d find some way to look at this differently. “You can’t trust him- he’s a vampire” Bonnie hissed at me, her face pulled into disgust. “Well that’s why I’ve braught him- to see if I can trust him” I told them with a little bit of a shrug. The girls all looked round at each other. “I’m done with all klaus’s shit, I want to prove that- not necessarily to you guys but to y/n” he told them blankly. “I’m sorry y/n, but I don’t like it” Elena stepped back before rushing off into the crowd. Kol rolled his eyes at her “she’s always so dramatic”. “I…” Caroline trailed off not knowing what to say in this situation.

“I’m going to get some air, will you be alright for a second” I tapped Kol on the bicep. “Yes gorgeous” he nodded brushing my hand with his. That made me smile. Even within this mess. My friends hated the idea of me and Kol being together, on a serious level. Elena was ready to cry about it. But what made it worse was the fact that I thought I was really starting to like him. He was charming, he was handsome, he was bold and confident. He was my type. I made it outside to the side of the tent and took a deep breath. I had two options here, to lose my friends and continue on with Kol- or leave him now. And that was a hard decision. “Y/n, i didn’t expect to see you here”. I whipped around seeing klaus standing opposite me. He had a girl in his arms and blood was dripping all down his chin. Her neck had been torn open. Klaus’s eyes illuminated orange as fear spread across my face. “Klaus- what have you done…” I whispered blinking at the lifeless girl.

“I came to create a massacre, I’d say I’m going to start with you but I’ve already started” he chuckled throwing the body on the floor. Klaus walked a few steps towards me while I took a few back hitting the tent behind me. “Why are you doing this?” I gasped as he vamp ran in front of me. I could smell the blood that was smothered across his mouth and T-shirt he was that close. “Because i simply can” he smirked reaching out for my hair. I pushed his hand away from me scrunching my face up. “That was stupid” his eyes lit up again as anger starting to corse through his veins. I saw his jaw tighten emphasising his anger. “It was stupid to come out alone anyway” he grunted and my last thought was about to be ‘klaus is right’. As he lunged forwards towards my neck his body got ripped away from me and he flew backwards hitting a tree with a thud. I pannted looking around before finally seeing my hero. Kol stood there scowling at his brother who was in the process of standing up. “She didn’t come alone brother” Kol raised his eyebrows. Once klaus stood up he flicked his eyes between us assessing the situation.

“A human?” Klaus chuckled from a distance. “I thought you were into witches” “I thought you were into Caroline but we all know how that worked out” Kol walked closer to me standing in front of me as if he was a shield. “What are you playing at Kol?” “I like her, and you aren’t going to touch a hair on her head without going through me” Kol answered folding his arms across his chest. Klaus laughed, it went right through me making my blood boil. “I could easily get through you” “so do it” Kol shrugged letting his arms lose once again. “I’m sure we will see each other real soon little brother” klaus nodded before vamp running away into the forest. Kol turned around and came to me fussing and checking I was okay. “Kol! I’m fine- do you realise how many people you just saved” I questioned almost weak from the shock of his protection. “I don’t care y/n, you are my priority, when you’re with me you will be safe I’ll make sure of it” he told me brushing a finger down my cheek. I felt my cheeks going red. He made me feel emotions I’d never felt towards a guy before.

I pushed my body against his and wrapped my arms slowly around his neck gently pulling his head down to meet mine. Our lips met, gently at first but then Kol gripped my waist, pulling me even closer to his body. There’s something about almost dying that makes you do crazy things. Life is short, and I want to try life with Kol. No matter the repercussions.

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[t3a-tan]

Hi! I have read that au were Oliver is a human... What would happen if he found a tiny borrower child?

Human Oliver is certifiably the best at dealing with tiny people

Kind of a continuation of this

Word Count: 2,428

---

"Oliver? I found this toy outside… I think someone dropped it."

When coming into work that morning the last thing Oliver expected was to see one of the children he worked with pull a tiny person out of their pocket. At first glance it looked like an action figure— but Oliver bristled as he noticed the 'toy' was squirming; tiny tears glistening off of their cheeks.

Oliver was reminded of the tiny man he had seen not weeks ago who had fallen into his cereal bowl. He had mused with the idea of more tiny people existing, but he had never tried to seek them out. That man had been scared enough.

"It tickles…" The child currently clutching the tiny person in a…less than comfortable looking grip giggled. Oliver hid his wince behind a smile.

"Oh? Well it's good that you spotted it. One of my other patients' parents rang about a missing toy, actually. Thank you, Connie." Lying to his patients was not something he usually did as the trust he got from them was so important, but in this case he was lying in order to prevent harm rather than cause it.

Holding out his hand, Oliver watched as the tiny person was dropped into it, and as much as he wanted to right the situation as soon as possible he couldn't devote his attention onto the tiny person at the moment. Based on the first tiny person that Oliver had interacted with's reaction to being seen, Oliver doubted this one wanted their existence to be known by anyone else.

So he pocketed them, resting a hand over the trouser pocket and trying his best to keep still and to avoid straining the fabric and causing discomfort for the current unwilling passenger. He then focused on the session with his patient, hoping that the experience wouldn't be too traumatising for whoever he had trapped in his pocket.

…

Oliver was thankful that Connie was his last patient that day— once he had his office to himself again he sat down at his desk rather than the chair he sat on during sessions, reaching into his pocket with gentle but precise fingers until he snagged one of the tiny limbs within. They immediately began to thrash again once he had made contact, but Oliver still removed them from his pocket.

He knew he wouldn't hurt them… assuring them of that was a different story.

"It's alright…" He shushed, despite knowing they would probably be too panicked to listen clearly at the moment. Oliver carefully lowered the squirming person onto his desk. "I'm not going to—"

A pause.

"You're only a child…" He breathed, eyebrows furrowing with concern. If he had noticed such an important detail beforehand he would have been in a bit more of a rush to reassure them of their safety. Children were much more susceptible to lifelong traumas than adults, and Oliver wanted to prevent exactly that.

The tiny child appeared to be a boy, probably only eight or younger. He had an almost reddish brown hair and an almond skin tone, his eyes dark and frightened; filled with tears. The temporary eye contact he got was ripped away suddenly as the tiny boy struggled to his feet and began to run.

Oliver fought the urge to stop him. There was nowhere for the child to run to on the desk, so he only watched as he retreated and hid behind a stack of post-it notes.

The fact that he even could hide his entire person behind that stack was remarkable— but really, there were more pressing things to focus on.

"I'm sorry for keeping you in my pocket for so long. That must have been quite frightening…not to mention uncomfortable." Oliver spoke in a delicate tone, leaning his head down slightly so he wasn't towering quite so much.

"My name is Oliver… Dr. Oliver Oakwood…" He caught a glimpse of the little trembling ball curled up on his desk and only whimpering in response to his introduction. In fact, he thought he saw a tiny flinch at the mention of him being a doctor.

Oliver couldn't help but sigh, resting his cheek on one of his hands.

"Connie said she found you outside. What were you doing outside alone, little one? You can't be any older than eight." He tried to gently coax an answer from the terrified boy, treading lightly.

Based on the man who had fallen into Oliver's cereal not all that long ago, these little people lived in the walls of houses. Why was there a child all alone outside of a child's psychology practice? It didn't seem like the best place to live.

"I-I'm ten…"

Oliver's eyebrows raised slightly, almost not catching the shaky words. He's ten… His lips pressed into a frown. If this boy was ten, he was definitely malnourished.

"My apologies. Perhaps I need a new prescription for my glasses." Although a joke, Oliver wasn't the best at his delivery so it sounded completely serious to anyone listening. The child very hesitantly turned their head up to look at him, and Oliver remained still, offering a small reassuring smile.

"Are you lost, little one? I can help you get back to wherever you need to be and whoever you need to be with. I don't intend to hurt you or anything of the sort, so there's no need to be frightened— though it's perfectly understandable if you are." He made sure to keep his tone soft and non-threatening.

If he had been scary for a grown man, he was surely terrifying to this child.

The boy wiped his eyes slightly, hiccuping before opening his mouth as if to speak. They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Thinking quickly, Oliver murmured a small apology before placing his hand over the tiny child, not pressing down but making sure he couldn't squirm out of the grip nonetheless.

Kaleigh opened the door moments after, content as usual. Some people would say it was infectious, but Oliver kept up a neutral disposition despite her smile.

"Hey, Oliver. Helen said to let you know that she can't do the meeting tomorrow, so she's rescheduling it to the tenth next month if that date works for you too— her daughter tested positive for COVID this morning. She tested negative but you should probably take the test too just in case." She explained, tapping on the edge of the door slightly.

Oliver nodded. "I'll take it once I'm home and I'll email her about the meeting… Thank you for letting me know." He offered a polite smile, although on the inside he wished he had just been emailed about the situation later.

Kaleigh smiled brightly in response, nodding and shutting the door again. Oliver waited a few moments before letting out a sigh of relief, and lifting his hand off of the tiny child trapped under it. His expression shifted to one of concern.

"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you at all?" He asked gently. The squirming had stopped once Kaleigh started speaking, so Oliver worried he might have accidentally pressed down too hard. The boy shook his head, staring up at Oliver with…awe? What?

"Y-you…you hid me from her…"

Oliver blinked, his brows pinching with confusion. That wasn't the response he expected.

"Of course. I presumed you don't want to be seen by anyone else. You're already scared enough of me, so I doubt another giant would help." He tilted his head slightly. "Was that the correct assumption?"

The boy nodded quickly, eyes wide. Oliver let out a small sigh of relief, relaxing a bit. He was glad he hadn't needlessly trapped the boy in such a forceful manner.

There was silence for a few moments, the boy fidgeting nervously as Oliver observed, thinking about what to do now.

"A-are…are you going to let me go..?"

Oliver was once again taken aback by the boy's hesitant words. Did he think Oliver would keep him? Tiny people sure thought humans were barbaric creatures… he was sure the size difference only made those beliefs worse.

"Of course, sweetheart. You're a person, not mine to keep." Oliver leaned in slightly, now resting his head on his forearms, looking over the boy's unkempt appearance. It seemed that tiny people didn't live all that well. "Although ten is quite a big age, I will need to make sure I return you to your parents when I do let you go. Are they in this building?"

The boy shook his head, before beginning to tear up again.

"I-I'm lost… I fell in the lady's bag and she brought it here, a-and I tried to figure out where I was outside but then I got caught by the small human…" The boy began to spiral, hugging himself in a self-soothing gesture. Oliver's expression became sympathetic.

"Oh dear…" He wanted to physically comfort the child, but he also knew by now that his hands were considered the very opposite of comforting. "Is it alright if I hold you, little one?"

He fully expected a no, and would have respected that— but he was pleasantly surprised by the nod he received in response to that question. Very gently, and slow enough for the boy to change his mind at any moment, Oliver scooped him up into his hands and cradled him closely.

"There there…" He felt minuscule hands grip onto his shirt, his thumb rubbing circles into the tiny boy's back. "I'll get you home, I promise you that. And until you are home I won't let anything happen to you, okay?"

Being lost was already terrifying for children that weren't shorter than his thumb— he couldn't imagine how scared this boy must have been, especially considering these tiny people thought humans would do terrible things to them.

And Oliver had no doubt that was true of some humans. He couldn't blame them for being afraid; he could only try to assure them of their safety and personhood.

Once the boy had stopped crying, Oliver spoke again, this time trying to get the information he needed to help him get home safely.

"What did the lady look like? Perhaps I'll recognize the description." He asked, his tone still light and soothing. The boy sniffled and wiped at his eyes.

"S-she… she has light brown hair… a-and she's old. Mama says she's in her forties…" Oliver didn't bother to correct the child that forty was not old in the slightest, focusing on pinpointing the description on a person.

"Is her name Helen?" He tilted his head as he waited for confirmation. The boy perked up and nodded.

"I-I think so… but she went home. H-how am I going to find home now..?" He began to get worked up again, sniffling and eyes watering, preparing to cry. Oliver rubbed his back again gently, offering a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry… she's my supervisor. I know where she lives. I can drop by on my way home, alright?" He assured. The boy wiped at his eyes again and nodded. Oliver hummed. "What's your name by the way, little one?"

"M-Marcus…" He stammered in response. Oliver smiled again.

"Okay, Marcus. You'll be home safe in no time…"

…

Oliver stopped by the corner shop to buy a get well soon card and some sweets, just to use as an excuse for why he was stopping by— not to mention that it was the polite thing to do. He had Marcus in his chest pocket the whole time, speaking to him whilst they were in the car.

Marcus was a curious and bright young boy— he told Oliver all about his collection of broken crayons and the drawings in his room. He spoke about his parents, and told him about what borrowers were. There was no sign of the timid boy Oliver had first met— now he was just as bubbly and energetic as could be, and Oliver couldn't help but smile over that fact.

After reaching Helen's house, Oliver got out of the car and picked up her card and sweets, walking to the front door and knocking three times. He had put on a mask beforehand— he still had some disposable ones in his car from when the pandemic first kicked off.

She opened the door, also wearing a mask.

"Hello Oliver." She greeted, though Oliver could tell she was thoroughly confused by his presence. He held out the card and sweets.

"Kaleigh let me know that your daughter is sick. I hope she feels better soon…" He explained politely. Her face lit up.

"Oh! How sweet. Let me make you a cuppa before you head off, alright? Jamie has been in her room since this morning and I've wiped everything down, so everything should be COVID free." She stepped aside and opened the door wider so Oliver could come in. Oliver entered with a nod.

"You can take off your mask for now by the way."

Once he was inside she shut the door behind him and shuffled into the kitchen in her slippers, pulling out a chair at the table. Oliver sat down graciously, removing his mask.

"Luckily she's not having really bad symptoms at the moment… Mostly headaches and muscle soreness. She had a fever earlier but it's gone now." Helen began to talk and Oliver paid attention whilst at the same time very delicately removing Marcus from his pocket, taking the opportunity whilst her back was turned.

He hummed, prompting her to continue as he leaned down and carefully placed Marcus onto the ground, giving him a gentle pat on the head with his finger. Marcus hugged onto the appendage for a few moments before looking around to get his bearings. Oliver waited patiently, just to make sure this was indeed the right house.

"I had it twice last year and it was awful. I'm glad she doesn't get the more severe symptoms like that." Helen continued.

"I recall."

Soon enough Marcus had ran over to one of the walls with an outlet, prying it open just enough to fit through. He waved to Oliver before ducking inside, and Oliver waved back with a smile, watching the outlet shut behind him.

"How do you have your tea?"

He turned his gaze to focus on Helen again. His heart felt warm; relieved that the tiny boy was safe, and that his parents wouldn't be worried sick over his disappearance for much longer. He leaned his chin onto his hand, meeting his supervisor's gaze with a smile.

"Just one sugar please."