#I’d come visit my children of course

[nocanonhere]

“I will never forget you - that I promise. And if you ever feel differently, there will be a place waiting for you in the heavens.”

[chelseeebe]

everything has changed

you and steve were once the bestest of friends, cruelly torn apart when you’re forced to leave hawkins suddenly. fifteen years on, everything has changed and yet, nothing has changed.

i had this idea a while ago and then have recently become re-obsessed with the song so decided to give it a rewrite! it’s kinda giving seven x everything has changed and i love that. i have a sitcom level idea of a part two for this but i’m not sure it’ll ever come to fruition

18+. no smut but my blog is 18+ :) mostly just fluffy friends to lovers stuff hehe

‎♡‧₊˚

“you promise we’ll be friends forever?” steve asks, quirking his little eyebrows up. still so innocent, so unaware that the world was a cruel place.

“i promise!” you’d shrieked, toothy grin beaming over at him as you sat poised on the climbing frame. “we’ll write letters every week and in the summer you can come and visit!”

steve whooped with glee, the metal frame shaking from the force of his body, “okay! my mom has your mom’s number so i can call you,” grubby hands clinging onto yours.

you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug, wobbling atop of your tower. full of hope and your shared joy. oblivious to how the next 15 years would play out.

-

life hadn’t been so kind as to keep the two of you in contact. steve’s mom had tried to explain it to him, but his poor seven year old brain couldn’t quite grasp it.

it was only when he was older that he had realised what had happened.

you had been whisked away to california, your mother’s home state, far away from your dad. for your safety of course. his mother had warned him not to mention where you had gone to anyone, and he’d stuck by that.

and really, life had gotten in the way of thinking about you too much. basketball tryouts and getting girls into the back of his bmw had taken precedence over fading thoughts of freckly girls he once knew.

steve was at college now, admittedly tagging along with robin, but he was enjoying it. he played basketball, studied children’s education and had even scored himself a kinda stable girlfriend.

he’s sat in the library, book open and unread in front of him on the table as robin attempts to convince him to go out tonight.

“it’ll be fun! besides, i promised my roommate that i’d go.. y’know she’s having a hard time,” turning on the puppy dog eyes that more often than not, worked on him.

he groans, “i don’t know rob.. finals are coming up soon and i really need to get this down if i wanna graduate with you,” though he makes no effort to actually pick up the book, more interested in the coffee robin had used as a bargaining chip.

“steve,” almost warningly, “come for an hour,” nodding at him, as if to subliminally make him agree, “and then i’ll help you study all day tomorrow, okay?” tilting her head, bright green* eyes glistening at him.

“fine,” succumbing to her pleas, “but you owe me,” sending a glare across the table as he finally turns the page.

robin grins, happy she’d gotten her own way. again.

-

they walk arm in arm into the bar, squeezing through the crowd as they attempt to locate robin’s mysterious roommate.

steve sighs, whispering into robin’s ear, “why do i have to be here? just because your roommate is a lonely weirdo, doesn’t mean you have to drag me out too,” pouting like a petulant child.

she pinches his arm, causing him to yelp into her ear, “this is why i used to pray for the ceiling light to fall on your head in mrs click’s class,” pulling away from him as she spots whoever she’s looking for.

“wait.. what?” he calls out after her, weaving through the crowd to find her again.

she has her face buried into someone’s shoulder, blabbering about the busy bar and how good it was to get out.

robin pulls away, gesturing over to steve as this lucrative stranger meets his eye.

it’s you.

the little girl who had promised to be his best friend forever now stood before him, all grown up. he almost doesn’t believe it. in fact, he can’t. not until you speak, his name echoes around meaninglessly.

“what the fuck?” he gasps, still in utter shock.

“it’s really you? you’re.. oh my god, you’re steve of course you are,” wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug, the exact way you had fifteen years ago.

you even smell the same, a distinct sort of vanilla smell that takes his mind hurtling fifteen years into the past. he almost wants to throw up from the turbulence of it all.

“i can’t believe you’re here,” you gasp, still nuzzled into his shoulder, “this is so surreal,” now holding him at arms length, dissecting his face in the same way he was yours.

you looked the same and yet completely different. no more gappy smiles or sun bleached hair, very pretty. his seven year old self had thought so too, but your friendship had meant more.

“you two know each other?” robin perplexes, watching the scene unfold with zero context.

“we.. uh- yeah,” unsure of how much he can divulge, still under strict orders from his mom to never tell a soul where you’d gone.

“we were friends, i was born in hawkins so.. god, this is so weird,” you exasperate, letting go of his frame to talk to a bewildered robin.

“you’re from hawkins? you told me you were from california?” robins face twists in confusion.

“it’s a.. complicated story,” you look back at him, still trying to decipher if he was even real, “i moved away when i was young but we were like, best friends,” baring your teeth with your smile.

“well shit, i’ve got time,” robin laughs, sliding into the booth, she looks up at steve, “drinks on you.. you know, to celebrate,” wiggling her brows in that irritating way she did when she wanted something.

he dutifully obliges as you begin your story, he supposes that now you probably can.

your dad had moved out of hawkins a while ago, it wasn’t exactly a secret as to why you guys had just up and left so abruptly. steve had always hated him, made sure to glare daggers into his back when he and his mother would pass him in the street or in melvalds. he felt he owed you that.

plus steve was angry, angry that you’d had to leave him behind because of your dad. his tiny mind couldn’t comprehend that it was for the better, only understanding that it was your dad’s fault his best friend had been taken from him.

steve’s curious about california, how your life differed from hawkins. you play it off as nothing special but you smile differently when you speak of afternoons after school spent on the beach and learning to surf.

he makes some off-hand comment about making it out which causes your brows to furrow, “so did you,” tapping the table in front of him, “remember we would talk about college? living in a big house together?”

he chortles, almost choking on his beer, “yeah, with ten dogs and three cats,” shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all.

“wow..” robin butts in, “so you did this with other girls before me?” faux-offence written all over her face.

you beam, looking between the two of them, “so are you guys dating?”

steve does choke this time, sputtering as the bitter liquid slides down the back of his throat.

“no!” they chime in unison.

“jesus christ, you think i’d date him?” robin falls into a fit of giggles, it didn’t hurt his ego anymore. robin had very particular tastes and that very much didn’t include men.

“thanks rob..” he snarls jokingly, “i uh, i have a girlfriend.. just not robin,” he’s not sure why he’s apprehensive to tell you. christ, he’d only re-known you for five fucking minutes.

“sorry, i just assumed..” shrinking into your seat, desperate to change the subject.

he’s modestly pleased that you don’t ask any more about his girlfriend, which in turn makes him feel a rotten sense of guilt.

“yeah well, to assume makes an ass out of you and me,” robin adds, giving you a poke to your ribs for good measure, “and he’s definitely not my type,” her nose shrivelling up in disgust.

you snigger, poking robin right back as she explodes into her myriad of reasons why she would never date steve. she kept a list.

there’s a sickening feeling of affinity, like all the years you hadn’t been together just ceased to exist, they no longer mattered.

especially when your eyes meet as robin prattles on, like you’re sharing an old joke.

he doesn’t like this, doesn’t fancy his odds of coming out of this unscathed but that doesn’t stop him from shifting his chair closer as the night goes on. nor does it stop him from walking you home, supporting a tipsy robin on his arm.

and it most certainly doesn’t effect him when you hug him goodnight, nestling your chin into his shoulder the way you used to.

fuck.

-

steve climbs down the steps into the strange smelling studio, he hadn’t even known this ever existed. there’s art littering the walls, the shelves, just about any surface that was available.

you’re at the back of the empty room, dabbing a paintbrush onto a canvas, completely unaware of his presence.

“hey.. robin said you’d be down here,” he speaks softly, so as to not startle you.

you still jump, clutching your chest as you spin on your heel, “jesus christ,” panting rather dramatically, “you scared the shit outta me,” shock turning into a wide smile.

“sorry,” he chuckles, weaving through the easels, trying his damn hardest not to touch or knock anything over, “what ya’ working on?” peering at the canvas.

it’s a beautiful scene, a lone swing set lies in the middle, surrounded by a peachy-pink sunset. it’s reminiscent of something he can’t quite place.

“oh just..” shrugging him off, “some stuff for my exhibition.. i dunno if i like it yet,” downplaying the glorious work of art in front of him. as if there were any need.

“what are you talking about? it’s so good,” still clinging onto his backpack strap.

you shake your head, taking the apron off of your body, tossing it onto the hook full of other dirtied aprons. “i can do better.. anyway, did you trek all the way down here for a reason or..?”

he lingers by the painting for a second longer before turning to face you, remembering his actual aim, “yes! are you joining us for dinner tonight? robin wants you to meet all of our friends,” he offers, though he’s aware it’s not much of a deal for you.

“uh.. who’s gonna be there?” you ask, quirking a brow. he’s aware that you’re not exactly a social butterfly.

“well, nancy, jonathan, vickie.. argyle, if jonathan can convince him to come out,” they were all nice enough, if he and robin liked you, they definitely would too.

“i dunno..” wrinkling your nose.

“come on,” he pleads, “it’ll be fun.. they’ll love you. nance’s been begging me to get you out.. please?”

you shake your head, as if weighing up your options, “okay.. fine, but dinner’s on you,” as you drop the pallet into the sink for someone else to deal with.

“great,” he beams, there’s something to be said about the fact he still hadn’t introduced katie to the rest of his friends yet.. but he doesn’t wanna think about that.

his hand comes to rest on what he thinks is a dry desk, waiting for you to finish up, only to find his hand now covered in goopy white paint, “oh shit,” he fusses, pulling your attention from the sink.

“oh fuck, i should’ve told you that was wet..” looking between his outstretched hand and his eyes, a giggle bubbling on your lips as he stomps over to the sink.

“oh is this funny to you, huh?” joining you at the basin.

you run the hot water for him, grabbing the bottle of soap ready to clean his hand, “well it’s a little funny,” lips twitching while he stands like a lemon.

as steve normally does, he acts before he thinks, pressing his paint-covered palm to your cheek, only registering what he had done when you shriek in response, splashing water everywhere.

“you asshole!” you gasp, brows furrowed as you conjure up something for revenge.

that’s when you grab the still paint-covered brush and smear it over his cheek and nose, staining his features a daring bright orange.

“oh it’s like that is it?” he grins, grabbing your wrist with his clean hand, threatening to mark you again. “you don’t wanna mess with me, i’ve got the upper hand,” sticking his tongue out slightly, unable to shake the way your eyes still glistened the same.

“if you want me to come to dinner, you’ll put your hand down.. call a truce,” bargaining with him.

he obliges, holding his hands up in surrender, “okay.. okay, you win,” unable to contain his laughter as he washes the paint from his palm.

you shoulder barge him as you come back to the sink, pulling your clean brushes from the water and leaving them to dry on the metal board.

“we’re gonna have to swing by my room,” you smile begrudgingly, shoving your stuff into your bag, watching as he dries his hand.

“okay,” his grin still lingering, “personally, i think you should just come to dinner like that.. it looks great,” enjoying the ribbing that came with being your friend.

you scoff, practically pushing him out of the studio, ensuring he couldn’t wreck havoc on anything else.

the pair of you glide down the hall, steve filling you in on the guests that would joining you for dinner when a voice calls his name from in front.

katie bounds up to him, smile fading the second she sees the new colour of his face, “why are you orange?” face screwed up as she rescinds her offer of a kiss. he’s slyly thankful that your adorned his face now.

“oh we.. i- i tripped, got paint everywhere,” he chuckles, feeling like a scolded child.

katie hums, “right.. that’s kinda weird,” her eyes flit over to you and the paint on your face, “you trip too?” a judgemental look flashing across her features.

“no,” shrinking into yourself, “steve.. tripped,” doubting your own words, like your measly paint fight needed to be kept secret. but maybe that’s just how he felt, is that wrong?

he can’t decide.

“hmph,” katie frowns, her attention turning back to steve, “go and clean up.. you look like a clown,” before speeding off down the hall, ponytail flouncing around as she goes.

he just rolls his eyes continuing out of the building as you scurry along behind, “she seems nice,” sarcasm dripping off your tongue.

“ignore her,” brushing the whole encounter off, “she’s just.. pissy because i’m busy tonight, don’t take it personally,” offering a short smile. he glances at his watch, grimacing at the time, “oh shit, we’re late,” grabbing your hand as he starts sprinting ahead.

“i can’t meet your friends like this!” you holler, bounding behind him.

“they won’t mind!” he screams into the wind, dodging other students with a skill only possessed by someone who chronically sleeps through their alarm.

they really don’t.

in fact, robin bursts into laughter as you walk into the diner, “i’m not even gonna ask,” tapping the plush cushion for you to slide in next to her, steve follows closely behind.

the two of you share a look, an inside joke that was just yours. he liked that, it made him feel strangely important. like he was worthy of sharing things with just you.

everyone is lovely, obviously. he had no doubt that they would be. argyle corners you about california, discovering that it is a rather large state and no, you won’t have bumped into each other.

steve doesn’t want the night to end, he’s selfish like that. so he does the sane thing to ensure you spend as much time together as possible, walking you and robin back through campus, still adorned with paint.

“thank you.. for making me go,” you smile coyly once you reach your door, robin had already disappeared off inside, leaving just the two of you.

“no worries.. i told you they’d love you,” shoving his hands into his pockets, mostly so he doesn’t do anything stupid.

you chuckle, reaching for the door handle, “i’ve really missed you, you know? it’s like it’s all hit me at once,” shrugging your shoulders as if that were just some nonchalant comment he would ever be able to forget.

“i missed you too,” he adds, truly meaning it.

sure, he’d found friendship again but nothing had ever felt quite like you. it was different, and even now after years and years of being in separate states, with no idea that the other was even still alive, it all felt normal.

like you could walk back into that park tomorrow, sit on the swings and just natter away about everything and nothing like you used to.

“goodnight, see you tomorrow?” you smile, sliding through the door, waiting just long enough for his reply.

“of course,” returning the smile.

he hums all the way home, a child-like joy overrunning his senses. he thinks about you when he dreams, of sharing crayons and candy. high-pitched giggles and an unfaltering feeling of love.

-

it had been weeks of hanging out now, sharing tales from your childhood, robin was still struggling to understand that you were also from hawkins. “you’re just.. it’s crazy, you’re nothing like the usual hawkins dwellers and the fact that you were friends with him? wow..” she had muttered with a swift jab to steve’s arm.

she had had the bright idea of a sleepover, they hadn’t really been able to since moving to chicago, out of respect for their roommates but now her roommate was you, what was stopping them?

“why don’t we push the beds together?” robin blurts out, like a lightbulb had just gone ding on the top of her head.

you nod excitably, going to heave your bed across the room. steve pushes the end of the bed frame, connecting it to robin’s as she stands there doing absolutely nothing to help.

“phew thanks robin, couldn’t have done that without all your help!” steve quips, throwing his best friend a snide smile.

“shut up dingus, my nails are still wet,” as if that made it okay.

you smile at the two of them, stood in your pyjamas that steve had definitely not been gawping at. he doesn’t mean to, he knows it’s not like that. he has a girlfriend for christ’s sake.

that’s what he’s been telling himself anyway.

“you’re in the middle,” robin declares, looking at you, rather than him, “put your cold feet on somebody else for once,” before climbing into her side of the bed.

you slide in next, cuddling up to robin as you do. steve’s next, fashioned in his excuse for pyjamas, namely a chicago university shirt and his boxers. it probably wouldn’t go down well if katie were to find out but he didn’t particularly care.

there’s a joke there, something about sharing a bed with a lesbian and his childhood best friend but he can’t be bothered to think about it.

not when you turn over to face him, all smiles and warm cheeks, he has to remind himself that robin is on the other side of you, mumbling something about not waking her up early.

“goodnight,” you grin, relaxing into the pillow you shared as the light flickers off.

“night,” he replies, pulling his eyes away from your shadowy features, deciding that staring at the fuzzy ceiling was better than being a freak.

you roll over slightly, head falling onto his shoulder making his breathing falter, sworn to this position until you up and moved. it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make.

he shouldn’t be thinking like this, you’re friends, old friends to be exact. and he has a girlfriend.

-

except, he awakens in the morning, stiff shoulder and a cricked neck, taking a peek at the other side of the bed to find robin had forced you into him with her sprawling limbs.

you rouse not long after he does, blinking at the light and hurriedly moving your head from his dead arm.

“oh my god,” you remark, “i’m sorry.. was i on you all night?” wriggling around the small space you held.

steve exhales, lifting his arm in the air in an attempt to get some blood flowing back into the extremity, “yup.. it’s okay though,” quickly rolling over to face you, “sleep well?”

“well, apart from robin’s foot in my back.. yeah, pretty well,” chuckling into the pillow as you shy away. he wishes you wouldn’t.

“then it was worth the dead arm,” returning your abnormally bright smile, you were far too chipper for this time in the morning but he didn’t mind. made a difference from the usual grump robin was in, for sure.

“you should sleep over more often,” you smile.

he heart soars, god he’d love to. “oh yeah? like we used to?”

the crinkle by your eye returns, remembering times gone by, “yeah, just like that,” speaking softly, as if it wouldn’t take an industrial alarm to wake robin.

“you wanna go get breakfast?” he asks, before this devolves any further.

“absolutely.”

-

there’s a knock at the door, tommy doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even make a half assed effort to pretend to care so steve huffs and gets up to answer.

you’re stood on the other side, already smiling as you wait. it’s a welcome sight, without robin he’s been a little stir-crazy, not yet brave enough to venture to your room without her there.

maybe he’s afraid that something would happen, maybe he’s not. he’s not entirely convinced that he’d have the power to stop himself.

“i just came to give you a ticket.. for my exhibition, it’s on saturday so.. if you’re busy i totally get it,” you fret, offering out the ticket to him.

there’s an undetermined feeling in his stomach, looking down at the paper ticket in his pal, warmth rushing to his chest at the fact you’d even considered him.

steve steps out of the room, closing the door behind him, away from tommy and listening ears. tommy and katie were friends somewhat, mostly by association through his girlfriend carol. anyhow, he wasn’t keen on him telling some misconstrued story to carol and then reaping the punishment from that.

“wow..” still starstruck that you had asked him. “i’ll be there.. wouldn’t miss it,” sliding the ticket into his pocket, mostly so he would stop looking like a weirdo for staring at it.

“okay,” you nod, smile up to your ears, “it’s only small..” here you go again, downplaying your talent as if steve would ever care.

“stop it,” he warns, jokingly rolling his eyes, “hey, i’ll walk you back.. i needa get out of that fucking room,” gesturing for you to take the lead.

you chatter all the way across campus, talking about everything and nothing, he wants to ask if that painting of the swingset will be there but doesn’t. letting you blabber on about composition and the asshole gallery manager that wants you to set up at 6am.

its only when you reach your hall that you stop, turning to face him with a genuine smile that makes his heart thud.

“it’d really mean a lot if you came..”

he nods, stepping closer only just, “i will, i’ll be there,” assuring you as much as he could. he meant it, too. there’s really nothing he could think of that would make him not go.

he allows his gaze to slip to your lips, he lets himself do that even though he shouldn’t.

studying the curve, the slight gap between your bottom and top lip, the way they twitch with what he hopes is anticipation.

you’re both inching closer, neither of you acknowledging what’s about to happen. the air is thick, silent even. a knowing sense that you’re either about to ruin everything or become something more.

two doors down, a door swings open, a voice bellowing out, “i’ll catch up!” before a boy speeds out, glancing at the two of you briefly before disappearing.

you clear your throat, averting your gaze, studying the dirtied floor, “okay.. i’ll see you saturday,” coy smile as you unlock the door and potter off inside.

steve stands there, blinking at the wooden frame as if you’d somehow materialise from the other side.

he hightails it back to his room, in some sort of daze as he attempts to reconfigure himself. his relationship and his friendship with you. nothing made sense.

he’s not sure it ever will again.

fuck he wishes robin were here. of course she’s at some stupid family reunion when he needs her most. his next port of call would be you and well.. that didn’t seem particularly helpful.

he errs on calling robin, floating around his room with no purpose. at least tommy was no where to be seen, unsure if he could’ve handled his beady little eyes and snooping questions.

katie would be waiting on him, he always stayed over on thursdays, at least he used to. before you were back i. the picture. before you had completely consumed his mind with your stupid smile and stupid face. both a distant memory and an important part of his current life. it’s fucking dizzying.

it’s not really stupid, he thinks he’s stupid actually.

steve does what he does best and decides to ignore his brain, grabs his keys and storms out of his dorm. he’s grateful that katie’s house is on the opposite side of campus from your building. that way he couldn’t accidentally wind up there instead of where he’s supposed to be.

she welcomes him in, a pink, frilly house that steve had always detested a little bit. it smelt too strongly of vanilla and the other girls always side-eyed him, bitter and judgemental over something he couldn’t figure out.

it’s now that they’re sat on katie’s satin bedsheets that he realises that he really, really doesn’t want to be here.

nevertheless, he swallows it down. putting on false pretences as they fake-watch the shitty rom-com she’d turned on to fill the silence.

“so.. have you got your suit for saturday?” katie asks, playing with his limp hand.

“yeah,” resisting the urge to move his hand away, “sorry- saturday? i thought it was tomorrow?”

katie had asked- or more precisely begged him to escort her to this senior send off ceremony. some bullshit sorority ritual that made zero sense to him.

“uh.. no, always been saturday,” she’s still smiling, still trying, “steve, i told you weeks ago,” her frustrations seeping out of her pores, spilling over onto her features.

“you said friday,” so sure of himself, so sure that she was wrong. how would he forget that?

unless something, or perhaps someone was shrouding his mind.

“well, what plans are more important than your girlfriend’s senior send off?” she asks, all defensive.

he struggles to answer, there’s no way he can really spin it to make it sound less bad, strangled noises drift from his throat as the words fail to form.

“exactly,” katie pouts, crossing her arms over her chest, “you’ll just have to rearrange.”

steve doesn’t stay over, makes up some shoddy excuse about needing to study to get out of it. she’s not happy, obviously, but when is she?

he’s grateful that the campus is quiet as he stalks back to his dorm, thoughts swirling through his brain. everything is so confusing, his cushy little college life had been majorly disrupted and now all of the plans he had made had come crashing down.

there had been conversations about finding a house after graduation, moving in together randomly starting their life and yet, that couldn’t be further than what he wanted.

at least now.

-

steve finally gives up, turning to the only person he thinks will rationalise his thoughts, robin buckley. who has pulled her grandmother’s phone into the private dining room just for this conversation.

“we nearly kissed,” he spits out, eyeing the group of drunk students passing in the hallway. wouldn’t it be great if it somehow got back to katie through some nosy busybody.

“what? when? why didn’t you call me sooner?” she demands, “why didn’t you kiss? oh my god steve harrington, you’re so useless.”

“uh.. what do you mean why didn’t we kiss? remember my girlfriend? who’d chop my balls off if i ever cheated on her?”

“who cares? nobody likes her anyway,” robin roars right into his ear.

“i’m not gonna even acknowledge that.”

“okay, well, did you want to kiss her?”

steve pauses, perplexing the situation. he doesn’t need to really, of course he wanted to.

“..yeah.”

“well there you go!” she shrieks.

“it felt.. weird, i dunno, i think she wanted to too,” he curls the cord around his finger, “and now katie wants me to go to this senior send-off thing but there’s the exhibition.. i don’t know what to do,” his shoulders slumping.

“wait wait wait, what do you mean it felt weird?” dismissing his dilemma. you know, the thing he had actually called her about.

“well it felt right.”

the line goes silent but he can still hear her faint breathing down the line. she’s thinking, probably attempting to sweeten up her words. but eventually she sighs, “i think you know what to do.”

“but i don’t! rob i really don’t! why do you think i’m calling you at fucking one am?”

she clicks her tongue and steve can picture what smug look she has on her face, it was a signature feature of hers, especially when she’d been able to prove him wrong. “you do. i think you called me because you wanted me to tell you what you want to hear.. but i don’t even need to do that.”

he wails into the receiver, all he’d wanted was a clear cut answer from his best friend. a little advice and maybe some confirmation bias, was that too much to ask for?

“you’re no help,” he scowls, patting his now empty pockets in search of more coins, “i haven’t got any more change.. i’m gonna have to go,” sighing as he’s left on his own with his head once more.

“you’ll do the right thing, steve. i know you and i trust you,” before the line cuts out, the dial tone screams out.

he slams the piece of useless plastic back onto the holder. that wasn’t helpful, rather just some weird, reverse psychology lesson. he feels cheated, his first option of just flipping a coin would’ve been more helpful.

his feet drag along the carpet back to his room, swallowing the guilt and all of the other confusing emotions he seemed to have accumulated.

it’s funny that even though robin hadn’t exactly said anything specific, he’d known what she was talking about. it’s even funnier that as he climbs into bed, all he can think about is you.

-

steve hangs back, stood at the back while the speech finishes. he doesn’t know what he’s doing here, what he’s supposed to be looking at or talking to, incredibly out of place.

no one pays him any mind, too interested in whatever this balding man has to say.

you don’t spot him either, keeping your eyes trained to the art director. he can tell you’re nervous, picking indiscreetly at your hangnail, chewing on your cheek. you’d never liked, or been particularly good at public speaking, steve was your voice for many years. not that he minded.

there’s lots of chatter, people walking around the small space with their hands behind their back, putting on this facade that they were art snobs and not just weird middle-aged people looking for something to do on a saturday afternoon.

they all sort of disperse, ogling the paintings and such. leaving him stood in the middle of the room like a lemon, wondering if he should just go over to you or wait until this had all finished.

but you meet his eye momentarily, head snapping in his direction when you realise who it is. your lips slowly curve into a smile, ditching the conversation to weave through everyone to him.

“you came,” you state, like there was ever a chance of him not coming.

“i told you i would,” he’s not one to break a promise. ever.

“no i know but, robin mentioned something about your girlfriend, she didn’t know if you were.. forget it,” throwing your hands about, ridding the air of your words.

he’s not exactly surprised that you’d have doubts, not after your almost-kiss the other night. he hadn’t seen you since, too busy with the exhibit to sit and dwell on it, he bets.

steve shakes his head, “nah, i had something more important to do,” full of unbridled exhilaration, it’s like his body knew he had made the right choice.

you flush, avoiding his eyes as you usually do when you’re nervous or embarrassed. “well.. thank you,” shrugging him off. he so wish you wouldn’t.

he decides to just lay it all bare, tired of skirting around the truth and minimising his obviously very real feelings. “this isn’t the right time but,” smoothing down his wrinkled shirt, “i just wanted you to know that i’ve wanted to do this for weeks and.. shit,” he sighs, cupping your cheek and moving in before you can protest.

your lips connect, sending flames through his veins, you’re not expecting it judging by the lack of movement on your part, stood frozen even as he pulls away.

“sorry,” the first thing he says, watching your face as you stand shocked.

he was so sure that his feelings would be reciprocated, had pretty much convinced himself that you were destined to grow grey together but maybe he’d got it all wrong.

his cheeks burn as you just blink, time slows and he wishes that the floorboards would just collapse under him so he could disappear forever.

in lieu of a reply, you smash your faces together again, this time steve’s not quite expecting it, your noses bang against each others. but he doesn’t move, his smile growing against your lips.

there are a collection of muttered oohs from the crowd. it was rather a lot for a saturday morning.

“sorry,” you echo, biting down into your bottom lip, “not the wrong time at all,” your eyes shining through your spindly lashes.

steve bursts into laughter, drawing an even bigger crowd of eyes as he does so. his eyes dart around the vaguely stunned audience, “hey look, find me after.. i’ll be here,” gently pushing you off to go and do whatever the hell it is that artists do at these things.

you nod, all dazed and smiley, immediately falling into conversation about a painting.

-

he’s only dozing when the door creaks open, too encapsulated by sleep to bother to open his eyes. you’re dead to the world, snoring softly curled into his chest.

a quiet gasp rings out from the door and then just as expected, robin bounds over to your bed, poking his arm that was both underneath your shoulders and hanging off of the bed.

he peeks a look at his slightly deranged best friend, the lamp was just bright enough to showcase her enthusiastic grin, “you did it!” whispering far too loudly, “i knew you’d make the right choice,” buzzing around the room.

she damn near jumps in the air, clicking her heels together like some freak.

steve just closes his eyes again, falling back into sleep with a grin on his face and you between his arms.

[norrisleclercf1]

Firstly: Oh my goodness. Love you did absolutely amazing! perfectly captured and went beyond what I wanted💕 protective aiden had me tearing up I can seriously imagine a little lando, I’d like 1000 more these please.

Second: their next baby, would it be another boy or do we get extremely protective girl dad Lando? 👀 besides Carlos and Charles who does Aiden love to visit on race day?

@ireadthensuetheauthors tagging myself so i don’t miss it this time lol.

Headcannon that started this

Ugh you're welcome, I have a whole world of Aiden and Lando built in my head not even kidding, so I would loveeee to write more for them and with different things

Soooo girl dad Lando, Lando has 3 more children with Y/n after Aiden.

Aiden Carlos Jamerson Norris being the eldest he's 10 born on July 2nd, following in his father's footsteps and literally being an exact copy of Lando

Then Caleb Maxemillian Norris who is 7, of course he was the second one Lando wanted after seeing baby Aiden dressed as him. Caleb was born December 17th and is a momma's boy. He aspires to be you and loves everything you do, he's your mini you.

3rd child was an anniversary baby. Daniel William Norris is your 5 year old who takes after his namesake is born on November 27th . Daniel loves being with his uncle danny and it's not unusual for Daniel and little daniel to be traveling together or in the RB garage.

Lando finally gets his little girl in the form of Odette Nora Norris, who is 2 years old. She was born on August 6th and let me tell you those boys are so overprotective of her. She refuses to be held unless it by her mummy and daddy, or her Uncle Max whose her godfather.

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

Now, back to Aiden after Mini Lando and his 3rd favorite driver to follow around after Charles and Carlos is gonna be Pierre. Lando doesn't understand why it's Pierre, but he assumes it due to Pierre being there one day when Aiden spent the night at Uncle Charles's place having a sleepover with Charles's little boy Enzo.

Whenever Aiden hears Pierre's voice or his name he's wanting the Frenchman to hold him or seat him in the Alpine car. Come to find out, Pierre is his favorite because he sneaks him candy all the time.

Aiden has even picked up some french phrases from his two Uncles who love it when Lando looks on confused when Aiden asked for a cookie in french pointing at them.

Lando of course tells Aiden he's not french and to which Aiden asks why he's not french since he's two uncles speak it. When Lando had to tell Aiden they're not actually related by blood, caused a huge meltdown.

You were unable to help as you were 7 months pregnant. Pierre was the hero as he calmed the boy down saying it didn't matter if they didn't share blood, he was his Uncle. Also, the candy helped too.

If Aiden isn't with his father, Carlos, or Charles, he's with his Uncle Pierre.

[stars4gojo]

Paper rings 

I’m with you even if it makes you blue

Gojo x Fem! Reader // progression of their relationship, fluff, maybe some angst? Gojo and reader parent Megumi & Tsumiki together // 1.6k words 

3 times you asked Gojo to marry you and the one time he asked you.

More of my work🩷

Gojo Satoru, an incredibly familiar name to you ever since you were a child. He was the notorious loud boy who ran around in the park as if he owned it when you were 6. Growing up in the same neighbourhood as him was not easy, he was boisterous, loud and selfish; always acting as if he owned the slide demanding a password for anyone who wanted to play on it. You deemed yourself to be brave when you first approached the boy, being persistent about forming a friendship with him despite his efforts to avoid you, claiming that girls have ‘cooties.’ Unfortunately for him you weren’t one to give up, you had taken a liking towards the spoiled boy others in the neighbourhood feared, taking even Gojo himself by surprise. 

The first time you had asked Gojo to marry you was a subtle evening in summer. It was the last week before summer break started, you would be leaving to visit your grandparents throughout the summer like usual. 

“Will you miss me Toru?” You questioned him while sucking on the bright blue popsicle which was dripping everywhere due to the unendurable heat. 

“Huh? I won’t miss you and what’s with the nickname I told you to not call me that..” He replied, almost mumbling the last part as his rosy cheeks lit up in embarrassment due to the nickname.

“Well I’m going to miss you. You know I won’t be here for all three months Toru.” You added ignoring his wishes to not use that nickname.

“But you’re coming back right?” He questioned with the rosy tint not leaving his cheeks. 

“Of course! I would never leave you, I’m going to marry you so I can’t leave just yet.” You replied while little giggles escaped your mouth.

“You’re going to marry me…?” He questioned back.

“Yes I will.” You spoke with utter certainty as if he had no say in who he would marry. 

“I’d like to see you try…Race you back to the park!” He added while suddenly getting up on his feet and running away.

“Hey! No fair!” You called back as your tiny legs chased after him. 

—

The second time it happened was when you two were in middle school, now too old to play pirates in the local park. You got into the habit of taking walks around the area and watching the younger children play. 

It was the night before the first day of middle school, all sorts of emotions of anxiety and excitement going through your mind.

“Middle school huh?” Gojo started.

No response from you.

“You don’t look too excited.” He added while scratching the back of his head awkwardly. 

And to no surprise there was no response from you causing him to snap his fingers infront of your face waking you up.

“What are you thinking about?” He questioned softly unlike his usual character. 

“Just wondering about what you said…” you replied silently. 

“We’re gonna be in different classes this year.” You added while sighing in disappointment.

“Oh cmon we don’t know that yet I can’t believe you’re so upset over that, I thought something serious happened!” Gojo shouted back almost in relief.

“It is serious!!” You fought back, “Being in different classes means that we won’t ever be paired up for like anything and then you won’t ever have the time for me and then we won’t spend any time together which means I can’t marry you!” You huffed in frustration crossing your arms around your chest while a pout formed on your lips.

You couldn’t dare to turn around to look at Gojo after your daring confession.

“WHAT!” He shouted back after a moment of silence and you finally turned towards him.

“Yo- you’re crazy! No way in hell I’m going to marry you.” He stuttered back while the familiar red tint covered his face. 

“Whatever…” you huffed out.

“Let’s just go home…you need food! Right that’s what you need to stop saying such nonsense.” He spoke quickly in embarrassment as he held your hand and started dragging you to the corner shop with him to buy you that same blue popsicle you’ve been having since you were 6. 

You two ended up being in the same classes for the next three years still being known as the most inseparable duo that walked in your small town. 

—

The final time you had to asked Gojo to marry you was right before high school.  You always knew Gojo’s little secret about him being a jujutsu sorcerer, truth is you were from a family of them as well. But you never had any passion of continuing practicing jujutsu unlike Gojo who was destined to grow up to be the strongest sorcerer to exist. 

You had refused to go to your grandparents this summer so you and Gojo could spend your first and last summer together. 

It was 2:43 AM and the two of you were sprawled over your bed. 

High school was starting in a week but Gojo was leaving early to go to his special jujutsu high school. 

“Can’t believe summer is already over.” You started while munching on the leftover pizza from a few hours ago as Gojo hummed in acknowledgment. 

“Can’t believe you’re leaving too.” You sighed as you sat up, trying to bring up the topic the two of you have been desperately avoiding. 

“I’m just going to Tokyo won’t forget you or anything.” He mumbled back.

“You won’t know that unless you actually go there.” You harshly grumbled under your breath causing Gojo erupt in a small fit of laughter.

“You think I’ll find better friends or what?” He asked in between laughing as you smacked him on his chest.

“You’re all I have here Toru this isn’t funny.” You rolled your eyes at how unserious he was being.

“You have Hana from across the street.” He replied back purposely naming the girl who you hated the most as you whined in disapproval. 

“You know Toru?” You started as he hummed again, “you should marry me.”

“What?” He replied in surprise. 

“If you marry me you won’t have to go to that stupid high school and I’m from a family of jujutsu sorcerers and your mom definitely loves me so then there’s nothing to worry about.” You spoke but had no actual confidence in your words.

“I can’t just marry you like that.” He spoke in slight disbelief as his eyebrows raised.

“So this is it then?” You sighed in disappointment. 

“No it isn’t I told you I’m not dying I’m just moving to another city! You can come visit anytime!” Gojo spoke in slight frustration. 

“Okay! Okay! I got it!” You shouted back defeatedly as you raised your hands in the air. 

“Promise you won’t forget me?” You added as you put your pinky out.

“You’re gonna make me make a pinky promise?” He deadpanned.

“Yes I will now quick do it!” You giggled back.

“So bossy…” he mumbled under his breath but nonetheless he stuck out his pinky, promising you that he would always remember you. 

— 

Now it’s been 5 years since that interaction, Gojo had not broken that promise only because you took it upon yourself to not let him go - moving with him to Tokyo and joining jujutsu high. 

He thought you were crazy when you jumped on the same train as him the next morning but now he thanks you everyday for making such a spontaneous decision. 

You two now share a home with two children who walk around like they own the place. 

The two of you are currently on a walk home after another dinner date. Gojo has been insisting on taking you on dates to fancy restaurants for the past couple of weeks but whenever you two actually sit down for the date he seems distracted as if he’s hiding secrets that he desperately wants to say but can’t.

“I liked the restaurant from last week better.” You mumbled breaking the exhausting silence that has taken over you two for the entire night. 

And to no surprise there was no reply from him.

“Toru!!” You shouted as he snapped back in to reality. 

“W-what? Why are you screaming?” He questions in surprise.

“Nothing…” you spoke defeatedly. 

“I’m cold Toru.” You started again as the winter breeze became stronger. 

“I told you to bring your jacket you can’t have mine tonight.” He replied as he continued walking.

You knew it was silly to get upset over this, it’s only just a jacket. But it’s not just that, the mumbles under his breath and just how lost he is with you now is just making you question the relationship.

So you stop walking, waiting for him to notice you are no longer with him but he still keeps walking without turning back. 

“Toru!!” You called out as he turned around in shock. 

“What are you doing so far back?” He spoke softly slowly walking towards you taking your hand into his, to which you slyly took advantage of as you put your hand in his pocket where you felt a small velvet box, taking it out of his pocket in surprise. 

“What’s this Toru?” You questioned as your eyebrows furrowed.

The way he turned around to see you was almost comical. 

“Give that back!” He shouted while snatching it from your hand and shoving it back in the pocket as a big smile rolled across your lips.

“Oh my god Toru I can’t believe you! Is this what all the fancy dates were about?” You hummed out. 

“It was supposed to be a surprise.” He mumbled as he looked down. 

“Can you believe I thought you were gonna break up with me?” You added as a little laugh slipped.

“Let’s go home Toru” 

Only to your surprise your boyfriend was no longer walking next to you, turning around only to see him on his knee.   

—

Honestly really proud of this one hope you guys enjoy it🤍

Requests are open btw feel free to send anything through but keep it all appropriate.

[finnsbubblegum]

I Don’t Deserve You {Part 2} (Joel Miller x Reader)

Pairing: post-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, protective joel, age gap (reader is in her 20s and Joel is in his 50s), stalking, sexual assault attempt (lmk if i missed any)

Summary: You were popular in Jackson but you have been single your whole life. Despite many men flirting with you, you have never found your ideal type. Until one day, you saw Joel and you fell in love at first sight.  But he felt insecure.

Words count: 2.9k 

A/N: This is part 2 for I Don’t Deserve You Part 1. Thank you to everyone who read my fanfic! 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

It was a usual Monday after the night Joel saved you from Josh. You woke up early and got ready to work and meet your students. 

“Good morning, kids! How was your weekend?” You asked the students with a soft tone.

“I watched a movie with my dad last night!” A girl shouted.

“It was my birthday yesterday!” Another girl shouted.

They were active and you were always happy to listen to their stories. Their stories were always interesting to you. You loved how children were so pure and innocent. 

“Oh really? Well, happy birthday to you! Why don’t we all sing happy birthday to Samantha?” 

You invited the other students to sing the Happy Birthday song for Samantha. Each of the students followed your clap and sang the Happy Birthday song together. The day went and it was already time for the class to be dismissed. 

“Okay everyone! Class is dismissed! Don’t forget to do your homework!”

Everyone was packing their bags hurriedly and you glanced at the door. The door had a rectangle transparent glass and you saw Joel. When he caught your eye, he quickly hid. You found him so cute and felt butterflies in your stomach. It felt like you were in your teenage years all over again. You shook your head and smiled. The kids were starting to leave one by one and you began to pack your stuff on the table. 

“I saw you there Joel.” You teased Joel who was still hiding.

“Uhm.. Sorry.” He slowly walked inside the class and cleared his throat.

“You caught me.” He smiled shyly and put his hand on the nape of his neck.

“Are you stalking me now?” You joked.

“Absolutely not. I was just around and thought I’d stop by to see how you’re teaching the kids. Hope you didn’t teach them curse words.” He joked remembering his last joke at the bar that was cut off by Josh’s appearance.

“Of course not.” You scoffed and slightly hit his chest. 

“Are you heading home now?” Joel put his hands on his waist.

“Yes, all the kids have gone home so I should go home now.”

“I’ll walk you home.” Joel gestured a movement from his hands as if he was asking you to follow him.

“Sure. Thank you.” You grabbed your purse and jacket.

Joel wasn’t actually around the area. He was not patrolling that day and couldn’t keep thinking about last night. He was worried that Josh might come to you and bother you again. After thinking about it for a few hours, he decided to visit you at school and walk you home. He thought that it was the least thing he could do to protect you. Without realizing it, he was starting to have feelings towards you. 

“Do you want to come in and have dinner with me tonight? I can cook something for us.” You hoped Joel would say yes before you got in your house.

“Sure. Ellie is making friends now so she often stays out late.” 

“Great. Come in.” You welcomed Joel.

You hung your jacket and Joel did the same. 

“Please make yourself at home while I cook dinner.” You smiled at Joel.

Joel nodded and sat on the sofa in your living room. You walked to your kitchen, opened your fridge and took out some ingredients. 

“Can I help you with somethin’?” Joel suddenly stood up and walked towards you.

“No, no. I’m good. Let me serve you dinner tonight.” Joel was your guest so you wanted to serve him.

“Okay.” Joel walked away and started to look around your house.

“You have a lot of books.” Joel stopped at your bookshelf.

“Oh, yes. I love to read. I’m a teacher.” You laughed.

“Right.” Joel chuckled.

After a few moments of banter while you were preparing dinner, you were finally done.

“Dinner’s ready.” You called for Joel.

He looked back from the sofa and hurried his way to the dining table.

“Smells good.” He sniffed.

You both started eating. You were nervous because you were scared Joel might not like your cooking. And your legs were shaking under the table.

“Hmm.. It’s delicious. Thank you.” Joel praised your food.

“Phew.. I was scared you didn’t like it.” You sighed.

“Are you kidding? This is the best meal I’ve ever had in the past 20 years.” He chuckled as he shoved another spoonful of your cooking.

“Thank you, Joel. You’re really sweet.” You were touched hearing his words.

The two of you had conversations as you finished your dinner. 

“Let me wash the dishes. You cooked so I will wash the dishes.” Joel offered.

“Sure.” You gave your dishes to Joel.

You watched him from behind and got lost in your fantasy. You were imagining a life where you and Joel lived under the same roof as family. And you were the wife making dinner for your husband when he got off from work. He looked dashing from behind and his shoulder was broad. You imagined how it would feel kissing him. But you didn’t want to rush so you had to hold yourself. You hit your head and got back to reality. 

“Done.” Joel wiped his hands with a towel.

“Thank you, Joel. For washing the dishes.” 

“It’s nothin’. You cooked for me so it’s fair if I wash the dishes.” He shook his head.

You wondered how a man like him treated you so nice. You kept wondering why he didn’t come into your life sooner. Then you remembered why. You were half his age. But you didn’t care. As long as he made you happy, you didn’t care about anything.

You and Joel spent a few hours hanging out at your house then it was time for him to go home.

“I should probably head home.” Joel looked at you.

“Yeah, sure. Thank you for walking me home today.”

“Anytime. Thank you for the meal. It was delicious.” Joel thanked you.

You chuckled as you walked him to your door and grabbed his jacket.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Joel raised his eyebrows.

“Sure. See you tomorrow.” You waved your hand goodbye to Joel.

The next day, Joel came and picked you up from work. He walked you home and had dinner with you for the second day, third day, fourth day, and it went on and on. Except when it was his turn to go on patrol, he couldn’t walk you home. But he would always tell you in advance if he couldn’t walk you home. 

Joel and you often hung out in the city as well. Since you got close with Joel, Josh had never shown up. He just stared at you from afar but he had never approached you. You even had less guys flirting with you. As time went by, people were starting to recognize your relationship with him. People were making rumors and talking about you and Joel. They were talking about how far your age gap was and how Joel didn’t deserve you. He was old and ruthless but you were young and kind. You didn’t care what anyone said. Joel had never hurt you, he was always respectful, he was definitely not like what other people said. As a matter of fact, Joel had never been kind to anyone but you. 

Your feelings towards Joel have grown deeper and deeper. On the other side, you had no idea how Joel felt towards you. Did he like you or did he just see you as a kid who needed protection? But you didn’t want this to end so you kept your feelings hidden until it was 2 months since you and Joel spent time together. You couldn’t hold your feelings hidden any longer.

It was another usual dinner with Joel. You watched him as he was walking outside your front porch. 

“Joel.” You stopped him before he walked his way home.

“Huh?” He raised his eyebrows and looked back.

“Can I ask you something?” You wiped your sweaty hands to your jeans.

“Sure. What is it?” He walked his way back to your porch where you were standing, resting his hands on the handrail.

“What are we, Joel? I mean - I - I like you, Joel.” You confessed your feelings to Joel and stepped closer to him.

Instead of telling you the way he felt about you, he took a step back. 

“No.” His voice was really low, he shook his head and looked down.

Your eyes were getting blurry as tears welled up in your eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” Joel quickly walked away from you.

“Joel.. Please..” You tried to stop him but you thought it was better to stay.

You were heartbroken. You went to your bedroom, covered your face with your pillow and cried all night.

On his way home, Joel was also heartbroken. He couldn’t see you cry like that, especially because of him. He regretted leaving you hanging like that. He wished he could hug you and comfort you. But he knew he shouldn’t. He had heard the rumors and he agreed to what people were saying. He regretted treating you nice if it would end up breaking your heart. He shouldn’t give you hope in the first place. Since then, Joel started avoiding you. He didn’t walk you home and didn’t have dinner with you. You and Joel ended just like that.

You hadn’t seen Joel since. Your days went so slow. Days felt weeks, weeks felt months, months felt years. It has been a month and you hated this feeling. You wanted closure so you decided to find Joel. You walked to his house and knocked on his door.

“Hi!” It was Ellie.

“Uhm.. Hi! Is Joel home?” You asked Ellie.

“Yeah! Joel! Someone’s here looking for you!” Ellie shouted and called Joel.

Joel made his way down stairs and his eyes widened when he saw you at his front door.

“We need to talk, please.” You begged Joel.

“Okay.” Joel gestured to Ellie to go, he closed the door and invited you to sit on the patio chairs at his front porch.

You sat with him but he didn’t say anything. So you started the conversation.

“Did I do something wrong, Joel?” You tried to find what was wrong to fix your relationship with him.

“No.” He replied coldly.

“It’s okay. Just tell me, Joel. Let me fix us.” You begged him.

“It’s not you. It’s me.” Joel wanted the best for you.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. What do you mean?” You were confused.

“I know you heard about the rumors. They were right. I don’t deserve you. I’m old. I’ve done bad things. I’ve killed people. And you’re young, beautiful…inside out, kind, perfect and everythin’. You deserve someone way better than me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have started anythin’ with you. I realized I was crossin’ the line, that's why it’s better that I stopped before I hurt you more.” Joel put his elbow on his knees as he explained to you.

“That’s not right. I don’t care what people say, Joel. You treated me so nice. You’ve never hurt me. You protect me, Joel.” You shook your head in denial.

“Don’t you get it? I don’t deserve you.” Joel started to raise his voice.

“No, Joel. Please. Give me a chance. I can’t live without you. Please. Give us a chance.” You cried as you begged him.

Joel wanted to cry but he held it. He didn’t want to look weak. Instead he stood up and asked you to leave. 

“I promise I won’t see you again.” Joel’s words made your heart even wretched.

“Joel, please..don’t..Can you at least give me a hug as a goodbye? Please?” You grabbed his wrist.

Joel wanted to hug you. He really did. But it would just make him change his mind. If he hugged you, he might not be able to let you go. So he let go of your hand and walked inside his house. You cried so loud and kneeled in front of his door. Hoping for Joel to come out and change his mind, but a few hours went by and he didn’t appear. You were getting hopeless so you decided to go home. You cried on your walk and you didn’t realize someone was following you. You grabbed your keys and went inside your house. Someone was holding your door before you closed it. 

“Joel?” You hoped Joel was following you home.

“Nuh-uh baby. It’s me. Josh.” Josh smirked.

You gasped and started to shake. 

“Wh-what are you do-doing?” Josh could hear you were scared.

“I told you that old man is no good, baby. You should have been with me in the first place. I wouldn’t make you cry. I’m way better than him. That old man knows it. He really doesn’t deserve you. But I deserve you.” It turned out that Josh had been stalking you and he was eavesdropping your conversation with Joel.

“No. Josh. Please get out of my house.” You tried to act like you were not scared but he could see you were shaking.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. You’re mine now.” Josh claimed you as his because he knew Joel wouldn’t be there to protect you from him anymore.

“No, please go.” You walked backwards as he slowly walked towards you.

On the other side, Joel kept thinking about what he had said to you. He knew it was for the best but somehow he felt something weird in his heart. He guessed maybe he should have hugged you goodbye. He didn’t hear your cries anymore so he decided to walk to your house. He saw your door was left open and he heard a loud thud and your scream. Joel’s heart was beating faster as he rushed inside your house.

“Stay still!” Josh was on top of you, holding your hands, trying to take off your pants.

“Josh, stop it!” You tried to push Josh away but he was too heavy.

Joel’s eyes widened as he was shocked to see what was happening. He ran towards you, grabbed Josh from behind and threw him aside. Josh was hurting laying on the floor. Joel’s eyes locked on Josh and punched him over and over again. Josh’s face was full of blood and he was begging for Joel to stop. 

“Don’t you ever touch her again! You lay a hand on her again, I’ll break your arm!” Joel lifted Josh by his collar and yelled at his face.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Josh begged Joel for his life.

“Now get the fuck out of this house and never show your face again!” Joel pointed his finger towards the door as he raised his voice again.

Joel closed the door after Josh crawled his way out of your house. You were in shock, crying, hyperventilating, shaking, and holding your ripped shirt to cover yourself. You had never seen Joel like this before. He was scary when he was angry just like what other people in the town talked about.  

“Hey, are you okay?” Joel’s voice was different from seconds ago.

He sounded very soft. He took off his jacket and put it on you. 

“I got you, babygirl. I got you.” He looked at you with worried eyes. (TLOU ep 8 reference 😘)

He wiped your tears with his thumb and hugged you. His hands rubbed your back in circles until your breathing was normal again. 

“Can you stand?” He asked you.

You nodded and guided him to your bedroom. He kept holding your arm, holding your weight as you walked. You opened your closet to get new clothes and changed into a new one. Joel faced the wall as you changed your clothes. He was always respectful to you. Not like the other guys you had met.

“Here.” You gave Joel his jacket back.

“Do you want me to stay?” He thought he would stay for the night to make sure you were safe.

“Will you?” You asked Joel with your puppy eyes as you sat on the bed.

“Of course, darlin’. I don’t want Josh to come here again and hurt you.” Joel walked to your bedroom door.

“Where are you going? I thought you’re staying.” You were confused.

“I am. I’m sleepin’ on the couch.” 

You chuckled. Everytime he did or said something, you fell in love with him more.

“Joel, stay here.” You pat the empty space beside you on your bed.

“No. I shouldn’t.” He still kept his chivalry.

“Joel, please. I don’t think I can sleep if you’re not next to me. I feel safe when I’m with you. Please.” You begged Joel.

“Okay.” Joel shyly moved his way to your bed and laid beside you.

You moved closer to him, put your head on his chest, and rested your hands on his stomach. You could hear his heart beating faster and his body was stiff because of your movements. Joel took a deep breath and put his arms around you. He rubbed your back in circles.

“I’m sorry. I know I don’t deserve you. But can I get that chance for our relationship? Give me a chance to be better for you?” He rested his chin on your head.

“You should stop being insecure, Joel. You’re the best man I’ve ever met. All the guys who flirted with me.. They weren't like you. I know for a fact they only want to get in my pants. But you’re different. Am I right?” You caressed his chest.

“No. You’re wrong.” You were shocked by his joke and raised your head to face him.

“I’m joking. Relax.” He laughed.

“Don’t ever do that again.” You put your head back to his chest and hit his chest.

“Oh! You’re bleeding! We need to get your fist cleaned up!” You took his hands worriedly.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ve been worse.” Joel chuckled and kissed your forehead.

“Okay, then.” You kissed his bleeding fist that saved you from Josh. 

The two of you spent the night cuddling, talking and getting to know each other. Joel told you about his past, Sarah, and Ellie as you drift into your sleep. 

To be continued...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

[fandangotales]

Getting Isekai’d with your parent/parents in CULT AU / SAGAU

Warnings: Toxic/abusive parent child relationships mentioned, stereotypical parent child relationships, yandere, disturbing content, description of blood!

Summary: Multiple scenarios in which your parents or parent gets isekai’d with you to Teyvat! GN READER!

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY APPRECIATED! THANK YOU!

In which the reader is isekai’d with their mom:

The acolytes would love her, especially since she is related to you.

Oh? She mentioned a favorite perfume, or a preferred dish?

Cue your residence being overflown with gifts not only for you, but also for your mother.

Surely gaining her favor would be beneficial to gaining the Creator’s, right?

Mothers typically know a lot about their children, so it wouldn’t be strange for the acolytes to ask her many questions about your life as a child, your preferences, your favorite acolyte, your typical sleeping position-

I’d also watch out for what she might tell them about your childhood, as the acolytes painstakingly record and revere pretty much anything related to your existence.

You got your ears pierced when you were 5?

It is now a religious tradition for a child’s ears to be pierced on their 5th birthday in honor of the Creator.

In general, your mother is not worshiped as a deity, but is highly respected by all in Teyvat. This is mainly due to your relationship and closeness with her.

Disrespecting or upsetting her is unimaginable, as it would be upsetting to you.

In which the reader is isekai’d with their dad:

“You’re not good enough for my child, stay away from them.”

The second the acolytes hear this line, they were about to fall to the floor in devestation, if it wasn’t for your hasty reassurance.

“Dad! You can’t just say that, they are all nice people-” you protested, nervously scanning over the upset faces of the crowd. “Don’t mind him, this is just something he says often!”

…

After that fiasco, many of your worshipers attempted to prove themselves to your father, much to his annoyance.

—————

“Sir, I can assure you that they would be well cared for! The finest of any kind of item would be theirs the second they asked, and I would do my very best to ensure their happiness!” The ginger pleaded, doing his very best to impress the man before him. “I also consider myself a family man, just ask anyone around about how much I value my dear siblings-“

“…and how much did you say that you make a year?” Your dad asked, gruffly staring Childe down.

His dull eyes seemed to light up, sensing an opportunity to sway the man’s favor. He leaned in close to his ear, whispering his… impressive salary. The older man nodded, as he patted the ginger on the back.

“You can take them out to dinner next week. They mentioned wanting to visit Wanmin restaurant to me the other day.”

⚠️ Dark content starts below this line!!! ⚠️

In which the reader is isekai’d with abusive parents:

The Cult AU is the absolute worst AU for those people to be in.

Your followers do not tolerate any disrespect or negativity directed at you, from anybody.

And if they became aware of they way your parents treat you?

Let’s just say that they’ll never bother you again! :D

Of course if you don’t want them… permanently erased from your life, the acolytes will respect your decision. But that doesn’t mean they will be happy about it.

Perhaps if they changed the way they treated you, and genuinely apologized for the suffering you went through because of them, then maybe they would be forgiven by your worshipers.

However, if they did not repent for their sins against you, then their life in Teyvat, (If your mercy allowed them to keep it), would be awful.

Angry glares from anyone they meet, the inability to purchase items from merchants, the constant harassment from your followers…

It would simply be a shame if they weren’t able to live with it.

And if you felt upset over their inevitable death, whether it be by themselves or some unpredictable accident it always coming for them, you could always seek comfort in the arms of your acolytes.

Hold one of them as you sob into their shoulders, as they become the reason for your comfort.

Let your sweet, innocent followers take care of everything, cook all your meals, brush your hair and maintain your body, let them offer themselves to you fully-

You shouldn’t have to lift a single finger. You deserved their utmost adoration and devotion.

Now that they are gone, you can finally be worshiped and loved in the way you always should have been.

They must’ve tainted your mind, made you think you were unworthy.

They must’ve been the reason your expression contorts into one of unease when your acolytes offer sacrifices and perform rituals in your name.

They must be the reason you felt an underlying sense of wrongness, starting with the very first interaction you had with your once beloved characters.

You are no god, you are unsafe, and these “people” are insane.

YOU. NEED. TO. LEAVE.

…

“We will now commence the offering, in honor of The Divine One. As they created a perfect world for us, we will maintain an obedient and thankful following for them. Let these corpses of those who have committed grave sins against Their Grace serve as a reminder for all.”

The once white altar was stained a dark red, as a large pool formed beneath the two mutilated corpses were haphazardly placed upon the smooth rock.

Your throat constricted, as you fought back bile. The oh-so-familiar faces of your parents burned into your eyes.

The priest raised his arms, beginning a prayer with the worshipers. You could feel the eyes of the people around you searing into your skull. Your head began pounding, as their words became more morbid and deranged.

“Oh Creator, we dedicate the bodies of these sinners to you. As your servants we humbly offer this gift to you, as thanks for all you have done and continue to do. With earnest hope, we wish this simple gift to you brings you joy.”

[pitchsidestories]

Pumpkins & Picnics II Laura Wienroither x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1771

Your girlfriend Laura and you were already about to leave Beth and Vivianne’s home which you visited earlier in the day when the Dutch woman put on a serious face: “Wait a second. Bring her home safely, okay?” “Of course, Viv.”, you reassured the older teammate not without a little eye roll at her direction. Home was not their place anymore for the Austrian home was the appartement you shared together. Smiling Beth scolded the dark-haired forward: “Viv leave the children alone.” “Sorry, Viv can be such a dad.”, Laura apologized.

But you just waved it off with a small grin on your lips: “It’s fine, I’m used to it by now.” “They’re really just looking out for me.”, the defender told you. With a sigh you admitted: “That’s in equal parts adorable and annoying because they should trust me by now.” “They do. Really.”, your girlfriend told you in a comforting tone which put your mind at ease.  

“Girls, you almost forgot your coats. You’ll need them for your outdoor picnic!”, Beth said making both of your heads turn as she handed you the coats.  “It’s not even that cold Beth. You’re such a mum.”, Laura laughed but the way she looked at the older forward was full of love. Nonchalantly the blonde shrugged her shoulders: “I don’t want you two to get sick that’s all, she stopped for a second before adding with a wink, Besides Arsenal needs your girlfriend let.” “Yes, yes I know.”, the Austrian mumbled.

Softly you tapped your girlfriend on her shoulder: “Come on, let’s go, Lau.” “Coming.”, she replied. Beaming you waved at the older couple: “Goodbye, Viv and Beth.” “Have fun, girls.”, the English national team player hummed.

It was a beautiful autumn day outside. The leaves were turning into all shades of yellow, orange and were softly falling from the trees. The lake to which you went was mirroring the colourful trees. “I think we can do our picnic here.”, you pointed to a place from where you had a perfect view at the water. While Laura and you were unpacking your things the Austrian whispered:” That’s beautiful.” “It really is, do you want a hot drink now?”, you asked her cheerfully. Excited your girlfriend nodded: “Yes, please. What have you got? Tea? Hot chocolate?” “Actually both.”, you confessed. The smile which appeared on her face warmed your heart as she stated: “Oh my god, you’re the best.”

“Only the best for you, Lau.”, you grinned as you handed her a cup of hot chocolate. The defender took it with both hands and breathed in the steam with closed eyes; “If I weren’t in love with you already, I’d be right now.” You fondly rolled your eyes as you poured yourself some hot chocolate; “Cheers.” Carefully, Laura clinked her cup against yours before taking the first sip; “It’s delicious.“ A comfortable silence settled in while you enjoyed the view with your hot drinks.

You quietly cleared your throat to draw your girlfriends attention back to you; “Lau? I’m so proud of your first run yesterday.” Her excited smile was the same as yesterday when she took her first steps out of the gym; “Thank you. It felt great to be back on the grass.” “I can imagine…”, you replied quietly, your gaze subconsciously shifting towards your own knee. One hand was tracing circles on your jeans in the places where your own knee surgery had left scars. “I can’t wait to play again.”, Laura went on, the longing for the football pitch now overshadowing the pride for her achievements. You nodded slowly; “Me neither. Something’s missing when you’re not on the field.“

With a mix of genuine light-heartedness and self-deprecation, she laughed; “I didn’t play that much anyway.“ “Right before your injury you did.“, you corrected her, biting your lip for bringing up the other injuries in the squad. Laura patted your knee; “Don’t worry, I’m okay. The ACL Squad is taking good care of me.“ “I’m glad they do. Because I can’t always be there like they can…“, you could not avoid the slight hint of sadness in your voice. At the same time you loved the team for it. Beth and Vivianne let Laura stay with them whenever she wanted and Leah was always in the gym when Laura was, celebrating every small progress. “I know.“, Laura answered with a soft voice. “Sorry.“ “It’s okay. Really.“

You could feel the mood shift and didn’t want it to affect your date, so you started to unwrap freshly baked cinnamon buns and offered them to your girlfriend; “Cinnamon bun?“ Lauras eyes went wide as soon as the smell of cinnamon and butter met her nose. Delighted, she took one; “Sure, thank you.“ “You’re welcome, love.“, you smiled warmly and took one for yourself. Laura took the first bite and hummed happily; “They’re so good.“ “Yes, I made them with the other Swedish Girls.“, you explained, satisfied with how much your girlfriend enjoyed the taste.The Austrian’s beamed: “Nothing better than real Swedish cinnamon buns.” “Agreed.”, you winked at her. Sheepishly smiling Laura admitted: “I could eat all of them.” “Seems like we need to make some more before Jonas team meeting.”, you observed amused your girlfriend’s hunger for the Scandinavian treat. The taste and scent of cinnamon buns always put a smile on your face because it reminded you of your home country.

The blonde could not help but to tease you: “Are you trying to convince him to let you start?” “Rude!”, you playfully slapped her upper arm. Innocently she smiled back: “What? It was just a question.” “Maybe I should them to Lina.”, you thought out loud. Your teammate really shined in recent national team games so it would have been only fair for her to get more game time in the club aswell. Confusion was in Lauras voice as she asked: “What?” “So, she is able to start?”, you explained. Determined the defender shook her head, holding the baked goods close to her chest:” You keep those delicious cinnamon buns right here.” “Okay, got it, Lau.”, you giggled. Pleased about your answer your girlfriend replied: “Thanks.”

A leaf slowly fell from the branch on to your light hair.: “Huch.”  “Oh wait. Let me get this one out of your hair.”, Laura offered while carefully removing the leaf from the top of your head. It was those small gestures that made you fall more in love with her everyday: “Thanks, Lau.” “Cute.”, she remarked. Grinning you suggested: “Maybe we should take that leave with us as decoration?” “To put it in your hair?”, the defender joked. You could not help but laugh: “No for our appartement.” “Oh. Right.”, Laura blushed.

Curiously you watched her walking around your blanket:” What are you doing?” “Picking up more leaves?”, the Austrian replied with an adorable smile. Immediately you stood up from your cozy place:“Wait, let me help you.” “Lia would be proud of us.”, she exclaimed delighted by that task which was something different to her monotone rehab days. You had to agree with your girlfriend’s observation: “Yes, except she wouldn’t let us take the leaves inside a house.” The Swiss woman was known in your team for always cleaning of her front porch as she did not like them there. Still, she was one of your closest teammates despite her peculiarities because let's be real everyone has them.

“I guess that’s true.“, Laura nodded thoughtfully. “She’s missing out on that though.“, you laughed. You looked up as your girlfriend didn’t answer. She was looking up at the exceptionally blue sky and the colourful trees, breathing in the crisp air. “It’s such a nice autumn day too. What’s more autumnal than colourful leaves?“, she finally said. “Very true.“, you agreed. “Oh, I know something.“, the Austrian answered her own question all of a sudden.

You cocked your head in surprise, waiting for her to go on; “Yes?“ “Pumpkins would be perfect right now.“, she beamed at you. Your jaw dropped; “Oh my god. Yes.“ Nothing screamed autumn quite like pumpkins did. “We could carve them. Or make pumpkin soup.“, Laura suggested, her eyes bright with excitement. “Or both. What do you think about that?“ Eagerly, your girlfriend nodded; “I’m in.“ “So, time to get a pumpkin.“, you said, starting to pack up your picnic. “Or two.“, Laura grinned while folding the blanket. “Right. One for carving and one for the soup.“

Holding hands, you left the lake side and made your way to a farmers market. Laura let out a squeal of delight when she saw a pile of pumpkins displayed. Carefully, she touched the smooth, round surface of one. You knew she had already decided to take this specific pumpkin home. “Maybe Viv and Beth want to carve a pumpkin too. What if we do an Arsenal themed one?“, you asked. “We should!“, she agreed. Together, you picked out some pumpkins. They were probably more than you would need but Laura was convinced to take them home.

At Beths and Viviannes house, you dropped off the pumpkins. Vivianne was eyeing the amount of vegetables on her kitchen tables while Laura and Beth immediately got to work to cook a pumpkin soup. The soup was slowly simmering on the stove, filling the kitchen with a delicious smell. Beth looked at the left over pumpkins on the table and grabbed a knife for carving; “So, Arsenal themed, huh?“ “Yeah, why?“, Laura asked innocently. Beth turned the pumpkin, trying to find the perfect side to work with; “Should it be the Club’s Logo?“ Amused, Laura shrugged and gave the older player a challenging look; “If you’re artistic enough for that.“

“Do we have something easier?“, Vivianne asked, not convinced that any of them would be able to reproduce the intricate details on a pumpkin. “We could do Win, the dog.“, Beth suggested. She and Laura had taken a particular liking to the team dog, so Laura nodded; “Oh yes!“ “As if that’s easier.“, Viv rolled her eyes but finally gave in. Happy with the outcome, you took out your phone and snapped a picture of the dog-themed pumpkin; “We finally made the pumpkin! Let me send this into the team group chat.“ “It looks like a cat though.“, Vivianne criticized with a smile. Beth nudged her; “Oh shush. The pumpkin soup is ready too.“

The sun was setting and your carved pumpkin illuminated the kitchen while you were crowded around the table enjoying the warm, comforting taste of the soup. You smiled to yourself. It was the perfect cozy autumn night to end the day.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

The Perfect Send Off

Pairing: Billy Taylor x femme Warnings: Mentions of war, slight coercion and corruption kink, loss of (male) virginity, smut. Word count: ~2.1k

Summary: Visiting war torn London, while helping to evacuate her sister and her children back to Cambridge, a young woman finds herself checked in at The Halcyon, and catches the attention of their bell boy, soon to be soldier, Billy. Based on this request.

Author's note: No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

“Billy, don’t stare!” Peggy chastises her son with a swat to the arm. “Help the lady with her bags.”

Her eyes move appreciatively over the tall form of the sandy haired young man in front of her. He offers her a tight lipped smile, obviously flustered, considering the shade of scarlet he’s turning, before grabbing her suitcases from the marble floor of the hotel foyer. “Sorry, Mum,” he mumbles awkwardly to the dark haired woman beside him.

“It’s Mrs. Taylor in front of the guests, how many times?!” She hisses quietly, before turning back to her with a charming, painted-on-for-the-guests type smile. “Welcome to The Halcyon, madam. Billy is one of our bell boys, and will take your bags to your room for you now that you’re all checked in. My name’s Peggy, I operate the switchboard. Please don’t hesitate to ring down if you need anything. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

She watches Peggy walk away, each click of her high heels growing quieter as she retreats, before turning back to Billy, who stands there expectantly with her bags in his large hands.

Oh, I certainly will enjoy my stay.

She had arrived in London by train from Cambridge that morning, intending to leave again with her sister and her children. Since war had broken out, the frequent airstrikes over London had made it too dangerous for them to remain, so they’d be staying with her until it was safe to come back - provided they had a home to return to.

It would take a few days for her sister to get packed and have the house and children’s schooling in order, so she’d be staying at The Halcyon until they were ready to leave.

She spares a sideways glance at the bellboy as they stand in the lift together, the reddening of his face from having been caught staring at her only just beginning to fade. He’s younger than her by at least a couple of years, but has chiseled features that make him look handsome despite his bashful nature, and he fills out the grey slacks of his uniform more than adequately.

The reason for her trip to London is a serious matter, but she figures there’s no harm in having some fun with it.

“It’s nice that a young lad like you gets to work with their mother,” she says with a sultry smile, as the lift travels upwards.

His eyebrows raise, blue eyes widening slightly as he turns to her in the small space. “Oh, I’m not a lad, I’m a man…I mean, working with me mum, it’s not forever. Expecting me draft papers any day now…miss?”

He looks at her uncertainly and she huffs a quiet laugh as they step out of the lift together. “Yes, miss is fine, I don’t have a husband.”

Billy presses his lips together and averts his eyes, nodding slightly.

“So, you’re signed up to draft,” she says as they reach the door of her room, “how exciting for you. You’ll have to pop by and let me know your posting once you find out, I’d love to know.”

He falters, the suitcases he’d been carrying thumping heavily to the ground as he stoops to deposit them over the threshold of her room. He straightens, clasping his hands in front of him, and looks at her apologetically. “Oh…yeah, course…yeah, I will!”

She holds his gaze for a few moments, enjoying his barely disguised panic, before she speaks again. “I’d give you a tip, but I’m afraid I’m unsure of which bag I’ve put my purse in–”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, honestly, don’t worry,” he insists hurriedly.

“Nonsense, I have to give you something,” she purrs, “will this do?”

She leans up and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek, watching him carefully as she settles back on her feet.

His eyes go wide, the scarlet hue returning to his skin as he battles to hide a grin, tugging at the collar of his uniform. She hears him mutter “bloody hell” beneath his breath, as his eyes dart nervously down the corridor.

She wonders if he’s ever kissed anyone before, based on his reaction to a mere peck on the cheek she supposes he probably hasn’t.

Oh, my stay here is certainly going to be fun.

“Was that to your liking, Billy?” She asks with a smirk.

“Oh…oh yeah…thanks,” he says, swallowing thickly and trying to regain his composure.

Adorable.

“My pleasure. If that’s everything then, I’ll see you later?”

He nods, retreating from the doorway and down the corridor, sparing glances back over his shoulder at her standing there, until he’s back in the lift and out of sight.

It’s nearly two days later when she’s heading back up to her room in the late afternoon, having spent the day with her sister, that Billy rushes towards her, eyes lit up with excitement and a wide grin on his face.

“I got my posting this morning!” He tells her excitedly as she puts her key in her room door.

“Congratulations, soldier,” she says with a wink, “got time to come in and tell me about it, or have you got to get back to work?”

“Just finished me shift, actually, so I’ve got time.” He loosens the strap around his chin of his Halcyon branded cap, removing it as if to signify the fact. His dark blonde hair is slicked back against his head, neatly parted to the side.

“Great, come on in then.”

Billy trails behind her, his hat held gingerly in both hands as he glances around the room.

“Make yourself at home, Billy.” She gestures towards the bed and he perches on the edge of it, while she takes the armchair opposite. She has never seen anyone look less relaxed and has to stifle a laugh at how rigid his posture is.

“So, about your posting–”

“Yeah!” He suddenly becomes animated again, leaning forward and gesticulating each of his words, “Came in the post this mornin’, tried to find ya, but you were out. I’ve been put on the anti aircraft guns! Can you believe it? I’ll be shooting German planes outta the sky!”

She watches him intently as he speaks, the curve of his lips, the brightness of his eyes. He exudes confidence when he’s passionate, not a trace of shyness to be found and it’s incredibly attractive.

“That’s very brave of you,” she says, “I expect your sweetheart will be worried for you though.”

“Oh,” he furrows his brow, his gaze downcast, “no, there’s no one…no sweetheart.”

“That’s a shame,” she drawls, her smugness at the fact barely concealed. “Tell me, Billy, are you a virgin?”

He widens his eyes, mouth opening and closing as he flushes pink from the base of his neck, all the way to the tips of his ears. “N-no…I’ve had it off with loadsa girls…”

“Billy…” she chastises in a stern tone of voice.

He sighs, turning his hat over in his hands, shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I’m a virgin.”

She moves to sit beside him on the bed, her hand caressing his shoulder. “Nothing wrong with that,” she reassures him, “but perhaps you’d like not to be? Can’t send you off to war, never having known the touch of a woman.”

He audibly gulps, staring at her in disbelief, so she takes the initiative, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his.

He freezes at first, she can feel him trembling all over, but he softens as she’s about the pull away and reciprocates, his hat slipping from his hands and landing on the carpet with a soft thud. His mouth moves clumsily against her own, over eager and inexperienced, yet there is something endearing about it. She longs to show Billy the tenderness he deserves.

“I–I don’t know what I’m doing,” he whispers nervously against her lips once they part for air.

“It’s okay,” she soothes him, caressing his cheek, “just lay back. Let me take care of you.”

He nods, moving back against the bedspread.

She takes her time stripping him of his bellboy uniform. Billy is undeniably skinny, but his long, lean limbs are corded with wiry muscle, his chest and shoulders well defined and broad as they’re revealed to her as she sheds his jacket, shirt and vest.

His chest rises and falls rapidly with anxious, shallow breaths, his eyes glued to her as she removes her own clothing. His lips part as she bares herself before him, trembling hands reaching out tentatively to trace over her naked flesh.

Her eyes widen with shock and admiration and she removes his briefs. She had not been expecting Billy to be quite so well endowed; his erection is thick and reaches almost to his navel, the ruddy tip glistening with arousal.

Billy hisses through his teeth, brow furrowing as she takes him in hand to roll a sheath over the length of him. She can tell from the way he twitches against her palm that he won’t last long.

“You okay?” She whispers as she moves to straddle him.

His expression is almost pained, only able to nod as he looks up at her with desperation in his eyes.

She sinks slowly down onto him, her jaw going slack at the stretch, hearing Billy groan beneath her.

“Oh…oh god…” he grits out, as her hips sink fully against his.

Trailing her fingertips over his bare chest, while giving herself a moment to adjust, she soothes him with a soft kiss.

He hums into it, his hips bucking slightly upwards and she pulls back with a grin, rolling her hips against his, delighting in the way his thickness drags against her sensitive walls.

He gasps softly, head thrown back against the pillows, a few strands of hair coming loose from his carefully waxed style.

“You’re beautiful,” he mutters.

His grip on her hips is vicelike as she rocks against him, she feels impossibly full and yet already anticipates this being an unsatisfying ending for her - she can feel him throbbing inside of her, as he pants hard beneath her.

Her backside slaps softly against his thighs once, twice, three times, and all too soon his eyes are screwing shut as he cries out in ecstasy, twitching as he spills into the condom.

She stills, gazing down at him as he opens his eyes, skin flushed as he gasps for air. He looks like a work of art, no shame or fear of making a fool of himself guiding his behaviour, just utterly lost in the moment.

“Sh-shit…sorry…” he whispers, as she climbs off of him. He pulls off the rubber and discards it in the bedside waste paper bin. “That was really quick.”

She smiles, guiding him back to her side and laying back. “It was your first time, that was going to happen. You’ll last longer next time.”

He grins down at her. “Next time?”

“If you want to, that is.”

“Course I do!”

He kisses her with more confidence, his hands snaking a trail down her body, squeezing greedily at her curves. After a few minutes of their languid kisses and caresses, she can feel him stirring to life against her thigh again.

“Could I be on top this time?” He whispers into her ear, settling between her legs, once he’s found another sheath.

She nods, sighing in pleasure as she feels him slip back inside of her. The change in angle and sensation of his weight on top of her heightens the feeling as each of his gentle strokes brushes deep within her.

While it feels good, it’s not quite enough to get her there, and as she feels his thrusts becoming less controlled, she knows she needs to help him to help her.

“Give me your hand,” she says huskily, taking it and guiding it between their bodies. 

She presses his fingers to her pearl, guiding them to stroke her in quick, tight circles. “Just like that,” she tells him.

He’s quick to learn, stroking her in tandem with each snap of his hips. He groans low into the crook of her neck, stilling as he spends himself a second time, but the movement of his fingers never relents. The combination of his ministrations against her bud and him pulsating within her drive her over the edge, and she climaxes with a moan, clenching around Billy, causing his breath to catch in his throat.

He rolls off of her after a moment, throwing his arm behind his head and pulling her to his chest. “Could get used to this,” he murmurs with a lazy smirk.

“Won’t you get the sack?” She asks jokingly.

“Nah, leaving anyway, aren’t I?”

“Right you are,” she smiles, snuggling against him.

“You up for another send off then? I could die, y’know.”

“That’s manipulative, Billy!” She giggles, swatting his chest.

“Is it working though?”

“Yeah, yeah, it is…” she says quietly, feeling his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of her thigh.

[abyssruler]

5 SUNDAYS OF KINKTOBER

5TH MASS ♱ scaramouche x fem!reader

homily — you look good when you cry in the middle of the hall after he deliberately humiliates you in front of everyone. but he thinks you look best when you look up at him through teary eyes as you choked on his fingers in the school’s public restroom.

communion — comment or send an ask to be added to the taglist!

modern au, college au, bully scara, possessive scara, noncon, manipulation, blackmail, degradation, humiliation, dacryphilia, oral m-receiving, semi-public sex, nonconsensual filming, spit kink, warning you now: scara is an asshole

5 sundays of kinktober

Scaramouche could be so pleasant when he wanted to, donning a fake smile that worked on your parents like a charm, talking and laughing with them over breakfast like he hadn’t just been pounding his cock into you last night, your cries and moans muffled by the forceful way he shoved his fingers into your mouth.

He got off of seeing your face twist with pain, tears flowing down your cheeks as you gagged around his fingers knuckles deep in your throat.

It was a wonder your parents never suspected anything of your childhood friend, not raising the slightest question whenever he invites himself to your home for a ‘sleepover,’ as he likes to call it. But a sleepover doesn’t involve him lying next to you as he grinded his hardness over your ass, arms circling around your torso possessively as his hands grabbed and tweaked at your nipples, ignoring your silent protests and the way you futilely tried to move away from his reach.

He never fails to lean in, breaths hot against the shell of your ear, and whisper in a tone that’s so falsely pleasant it makes your stomach churn with fear, “Stop moving. You don’t want those videos getting leaked, do you?”

And like a dog that’s been trained to obey its master, you do whatever he asks of you, whether it’s opening your legs for him or getting on your knees to have your throat abused by him.

Now, he smiles like the friend he pretends he is to you when you’re with your parents, complimenting your mother over the delicious breakfast she made and making conversation with your dad about the latest project at his company.

You know what your parents think of him, that he’s such a sweet boy, so smart and charming, he’d be such a good boyfriend, don’t you think?

It always makes your throat close up, fighting the nausea that threatens to overtake your senses. They don’t know just how wrong they are, how much he’s violated your body and privacy, the blackmail he owns is a constant thing that hangs over your head in shame. The person you thought you could trust most in the entire world ended up being the person to betray you first.

Kunikuzushi was so sweet when you were children, but now you barely recognize him anymore. Not since he got involved with the wrong crowd when you were in high school, not since he started going by the name Scaramouche.

“I better go now, I promised my friends I’d meet with them later,” he tells your parents, pretending to look forlorn at the prospect of leaving. Your parents ate it all up, assuring him that he’s always welcome to return, that he can visit whenever he likes. All the while you’re sitting beside him, twisting your fingers on your lap and trying not to flinch with each word that comes out of your parents’ mouth.

A hand lands on your shoulder. It takes all you have not to rip it away.

You turn your head up to see Scaramouche standing from his seat, looking down at you with something you could almost describe as soft—still all for show. The moment you’re out of your parents’ eyesight, he’ll go back to being his cruel self.

“Will you come see me off?” He asks, but the brief tightening of his grip on your shoulder says enough. It wasn’t a request.

“Y-Yeah, of course, Kuni.” The old nickname slips off your tongue, as familiar to you as your own name. He likes to pretend it bothers him, especially when you call him that in front of others, but you know how much he likes hearing it from you. He always comes undone when you moan his name, on the few times when his hand isn’t covering your mouth or his fingers aren’t choking you.

You walk him to the front door, your parents staying seated at the table. He turns to you when he reaches the door, the smile on his lips gone, replaced with a familiar scowl that continues to haunt your dreams.

His hand closes around your jaw, fingers digging almost painfully to your cheeks. He leans in, eyes narrowed on your frightful face.

“Open your mouth.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You already know what he means to do, so you part your lips, sticking out your tongue for good measure. He likes it when he doesn’t have to say something to make you do it.

He looms over you, opening his mouth and spitting a glob of saliva directly over your tongue. It takes all you have not to shudder in disgust. Even after going through such a thing for what feels like hundreds of time, his twisted perversion never fails to make tears well in your eyes at the humiliation.

“Swallow.”

Your throat nearly protests the action. You have to force yourself not to heave after it goes smoothly down your throat.

Scaramouche’s eyes are focused intently on you, pupils blown wide and his lips stretching into a mocking smile. You jolt when he suddenly reaches down and cups your clothed cunt, having easier access to it due to the skirt that he always forces you to wear.

He steps close, and you still in order to stop any involuntary reactions from you should your movement cause his hand to produce friction against the sensitive spot between your legs.

His eyes bore into you, nearly making you shrink back from his gaze. “Don’t even think about touching yourself while I’m not there. This fucking cunt is mine.”

As if to emphasize his words, his hand applies the slightest pressure, grazing against your clit and evoking a whimper from your lips.

You nod shakily. “Yes, I-I won’t touch myself, Kuni.”

He smiles, pouring all his false saccharine sweetness into that one gesture, loosening his hold on your jaw and retracting his hand from beneath your skirt to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. It would have seemed like a gentle act — if you didn’t know any better.

“Good girl.”

✧

His friends all think you’re his little pet.

Dottore leers at you from across the table, playing with the butter knife in his hand as he twists his lips to show razor-sharp teeth. You avert your gaze hastily, a combination of fear and disgust bubbling in your gut. An amused puff of laughter is all you hear before you feel a hand tug at a lock of your hair.

“Now, who let Scaramouche’s little bitch sit with us at the table?” Comes his mocking drawl, a hint of that twisted sense of amusement in his voice. You try your best to keep your gaze fixed to the table, knowing they’ll see it as defiance should you raise your head to meet their eyes. “Don’t you know dogs belong in the kennels?“ He pulls at your hair, hard enough to make you wince. “Why don’t you—”

A hand slaps away the hand holding a strand of your hair.

“Who do you think you are to touch what’s mine?”

You risk a glance at Scaramouche sitting by your side to find him glaring at Dottore, the fork in his hand gripped so tightly his knuckles have turned white.

Dottore grins unrepentantly, retracting his hands and raising them in the air as a sign of peace. “You should teach your little pet better manners.”

“And you should learn how to mind your own business,” he sneers, stabbing his fork straight into his steak.

Dottore smirks, utterly entertained by Scaramouche’s temper, but ultimately deciding that toying with you must not be worth it.

You reach up to fix your hair, still keeping your gaze on the table. Tugging on the hem of his shirt to get his attention, you murmur when he deigns to turn his head to you, “Thank you, Kuni.”

Though it seems you weren’t as quiet as you’d hoped to be.

Tartaglia, who was sitting on your other side, snorts at the nickname.

You freeze up just as Scaramouche beside you goes still. Heart beating out of your chest, palms beginning to turn clammy, and tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, you dare to look up and see what expression he has.

Your heart drops.

He’s looking down at you, face frozen in a mask of fury, eyes wide with a promise to do unspeakable things to you later.

“Pft. You let her call you Kuni?” Tartaglia fans the flames, knowing how much trouble it’d get you. You feel his hand slither near your side, and you shrink away from his touch. You’ve always thought that if Scaramouche weren’t so terrifying, all his other friends would have forced themselves upon you by now.

Your tongue twists on itself, bottom lip trembling the way it always does whenever you so much as get a hint of his anger. “I-I’m sorry—”

“Shut up,” Scaramouche says icily, whether it’s for you or Tartaglia, you didn’t know.

He doesn’t like it when you call him Kuni in front of others. For all that he gets off of hearing your once-innocent nickname for him be said in such debauched tones accompanied by the squelching sounds of your walls squeezing around him and the slap of skin against skin, he abhors it when you call him that in front of others.

He grabs your jaw harshly with one hand, forcing you to look him in the eye and ignoring the way you whimper at how hard his grip is. From your periphery, you can see that the rest of his friends have stopped their conversation to watch your impending humiliation with a sick sense of delight.

“I thought I told you to keep that mouth shut.” He pulls you close, his mouth a hairsbreadth away from yours, breath warm against your lips. But then he leans away, roughly pushing your face away as he lets go, leaving your jaw aching and eyes watery. “Get out of my sight.”

You scramble to do as you’re told, ignoring the jeers of his friends and the pitying looks from nearby tables, nearly toppling your chair from the haste with which you stand up. You don’t see the leg that stretches out beneath you.

Your knees ache, palms red from the force as you fell to the floor. You’re sure you’ll be sporting gashes and bruises on your knees tomorrow, but it isn’t the pain that opens the dam of your tears, lips wobbling in an attempt to smother the hiccup that threatens to rise from you.

It’s the sound of laughter that echoes in your ears.

You all but run out of the cafeteria and into the restroom you always hide out in, practically feeling his gaze on your back the whole way. If you close your eyes, you can almost imagine what sort of look he would have had as you tripped. Eyes leering at you, mouth twisted in a cruel mockery of a smile, and perhaps a hint of pink at his cheeks—the only sign of his arousal, proof of how much he enjoys seeing you get hurt and humiliated.

The door to an empty cubicle locks shut behind you, falling to the closed seat of the toilet and placing your hand over your mouth to muffle your sobs. Even that one simple act reminded you of him, of the way he likes seeing you gag and choke around him and the way he’d push your face over the mattress to silence you, palms heavy against your lips whenever he fucked you in a public space, “You don’t want us to get caught, do you? So be quiet.”

✧

He finds you, just like he always does whenever you run away to have your little tantrums, as he calls it.

“Get out.”

You opened the door of the cubicle, ever the obedient little pet his friends like to taunt at. He’s leaning by the sink with his arms crossed, a frown fixed on his deceptively angelic face, eyes narrowing once he sees you.

Fidgeting with your fingers, you try to apologize again as sincerely as you can muster, “Kuni, I’m sorry.”

Scaramouche is at you in an instand, a hand around your neck and a dangerous look on his face, not quite squeezing but still tight enough to be threatening. Your knees lock in place, hands trembling with fear as you fought the urge to cry again with the way he’s looking at you.

“Get on your knees.”

Your eyes dart to the unlocked door, heart rate rising. Anyone could enter at any moment. He liked the thrill of defiling you on public spaces—fitting rooms, cubicles of public restrooms, the janitor’s closet—but always with an added precaution, always with the door locked.

“Someone might come in and see—”

“So what?” He rudely interrupts, squeezing his fingers around your throat just enough to be uncomfortable. Then he snickers, watching the way your eyes begin to water again. “You’re such a crybaby.”

“Kuni, please. I don’t want—”

His mouth roughly lands against yours, swallowing whatever protests you had as he roved his tongue inside your mouth, taking and taking and taking without consideration. It hurts, the way he’s pressing his lips over yours and the way his teeth bites onto your bottom lip, tongue roving over your own, making sure you taste all of him. It leaves you lightheaded and out of breath by the time he pulls away, a trail of saliva hanging between you that he doesn’t bother wiping away. Just as he likes it. Rough, messy, and filthy.

He likes seeing you covered in his own cum from head to toe, dribbling from your mouth, running down the valley of your breasts, and your pussy so stuffed full that it drips down your thighs and makes a mess beneath your feet.

You think if he could, he would keep you locked up in his room, never stepping out and only there to be used as a cum dump and admired as you lay on top of his bed with your eyes crossed in the wake of an orgasm, legs spread, cum oozing out of your hole and slipping between your ass, utterly making a mess of the sheets below.

Scaramouche laughs at your dazed look, loosening his hold on your neck, enough that you can break out should you wish it. You don’t.

“Are you actually scared?” He taunts, a grin on his lips that managed to show how truly deplorable of a person he is. “Scared that someone would walk in and see how much of a slut you really are?”

You place both palms on his wrist, looking at him imploringly through glassy eyes. “Please—”

“I’ll let you in on a secret.” He steps close, close enough that you can feel his breath fan across your face. Then, in a whisper that is nothing short of threatening, he tells you, “Everyone knows I’m fucking you like the little whore you are, they only need proof. Now, should I send them the video, or are you gonna get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness?”

He delights at the way your eyes dim in understanding. You can feel his hardness throb against you when you bite your lips to stop the rush of tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

You hate yourself for being so easy to be reduced to tears, but mostly you hate yourself for being unable to truly deny him anything.

His hands release their hold on your neck just as you obediently fall to your knees, looking up at him in despair. He raises a brow, gesturing to the growing hardness in his pants with a humorless smile.

Your fingers fumble to undo his zipper, pulling down his waistband and taking him in your hand. Shuddering as you began moving your hand up and down his shaft, he impatiently grabs the back of your head, fingers intertwining with your hair as he forced you to look up at him.

“Open your mouth.”

With only the slightest hesitation, you part your lips for him, taking care to open them wide enough that your teeth won’t graze him. (Your jaw still aches with the memory of being forced to have him inside your mouth until your jaw nearly locked in place and you were crying, pleading with your eyes to please, please make it stop.)

Scaramouche slips inside your mouth with ease, groaning in pleasure as his cock is enveloped with a heat that only your cunt could top. He pushes all the way inside until your nose is brushing against soft tufts of hair and the tip of his length hits the back of your throat. You gag, but no amount of pushing against his thighs has him moving, watching you with pupils blown wide, his cheeks pink and breaths shaky.

“Hah… look at you, all on your knees for me. You’re probably secretly into this, being used like a toy. You’ve always been so hard-to-get, but inside you’re nothing but a slut who likes feeling my cock anywhere inside you.” He laughs, tugging at your hair and pushing himself even deeper than before.

It isn’t until a tear falls from your eye that he retracts himself, giving you only a moment’s respite before pushing your head forward, keeping a harsh but steady pace as he fucks into your mouth, bruising the back of your throat the same way he constantly abuses your insides. Thick spurts of pre-cum escape the slit of his cock, dragging across your mouth and dripping from the corners of your lips. It mixes with your drool, flowing down your chin and onto the floor, slathering his length in a transparent sheen that gathers along the base of cock as he repeatedly slams himself hilt deep into your throat.

You find it difficult to breathe, difficult to swallow, difficult to think as he continues to thrust into your mouth without abandon, his pace becoming erratic, harsh puffs of breath escaping him, and from the familiar twitch of his cock, you can tell he’s close. So you flatten your tongue along his shaft, hollowing your cheeks as best as you can, and closing your eyes to stop the tears from breaking out.

“Fuck, fuck. Look at me,” he orders, voice one pitch away from becoming breathy.

You open your eyes and gaze up at him, unable to stop the wetness that’s gathered in your eyes from falling. His hips falter, his hold on your hair tightening to the point that it makes you cry out from the pain. It only serves to pleasure him more, the vibrations from your throat sending him to the edge as he pushes himself in as far as he can go.

Thick, warm spurts of cum shoot into your mouth, a taste so familiar you barely gag as it gathers in the back of your throat. Scaramouche thrusts himself into you, once, twice, until he’s sure your mouth has finished milking him dry.

He pulls out, not bothering to tuck himself in as he moves his hand from the back of your head to your cheek, tilting your head up. And you already know what he wants you to do, so you open your mouth, let him see his cum mixed with your saliva. Your mouth is too full to keep them all in, flowing down your chin in excess and staining your shirt.

You’re unprepared for the two fingers he shoves into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag and involuntarily swallow his cum.

“That’s right, swallow it all like the cum-thirsty whore that you are,” he laughs at you, at the pathetic look you must sport — red eyes, puffy lips, and dried tear tracks on your cheeks.

He retracts his fingers from your mouth, not bothering to wipe them clean.

“Get up,” he orders, stepping away from you and approaching the sink. You stand on shaky legs, knees sore not only from the hard tiles, but also from the fall earlier.

Scaramouche gestures to the counter, his lips pulled up in a leer, roving his eyes over your figure, lingering on the stain on your chest from the cum you failed to keep in your mouth earlier. You nearly collapse by the sink, arms supporting you as you leaned your top over the counter.

His hands push the hem of your skirt up, palms lingering on the swell of your ass, before he unceremoniously pulls your panties down to your knees. You unconsciously clench down on nothing as your pussy is exposed to the cold air.

He runs a finger up and down your folds, gathering your slick and raising his hand to examine them. You finally raise your head, meeting his eyes on the mirror.

“You’re all wet. I bet you enjoyed it, didn’t you? Being used like a ragdoll. Tell me, do you touch yourself when I’m not there?” He delivers it in a nonchalant tone, but from the tightness of his fingers around your hips, you know he’s serious.

Quickly shaking your head, you try to plead that he’s the only one who’d ever touched you, voice scratchy from his earlier abuse of your throat. “I-I promise, Kuni. I’ve never—”

“Liar,” he hisses.

The only warning you have is the way he shifts, and then his cock slips inside you, far too thick and far too big, pushing through your walls and splitting you in half. The vein that runs along his shaft rubs against your insides in a way that has you clenching down at him with pleasure, even as you cry out in shock and pain at being entered without preparation.

“Fuck,” he groans, the tip of his cock touching the entrance of your womb, and you know without a doubt that he’ll continue hitting that spot later, if only to see the way you squirm and cry in a mix of pain and pleasure. “Still so fucking tight even after I’ve fucked that hole of yours so many times. Hah… if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were a virgin.”

Slowly, he pulls out, relishing in the way your walls clench down on him, trying to suck him back into your heat. And when only the tip of his cock remains inside, he rams his hips into you with a force that has you choking out a sob as he hits your cervix, over and over and over again, until you can no longer distinguish between pain and pleasure. Only an endless motion of him fucking his length into you, fingers digging into your hips in a bruising grip that will no doubt show on your skin tomorrow.

“Kuni—Kuni, please… slow down—” A particularly harsh thrust has you slurring your words, arms losing balance. Your top falls onto the counter, the coolness of the cheap marble against your cheek doing nothing to chase away the heat that’s bubbling inside you, gathering in your belly and threatening to snap with every drag of his length against your cunt.

“Shut up,” he snarls, biting back a moan at how you clench down on him at the harsh order. “I can feel your sloppy little pussy sucking me in. You’re like a bitch in heat, taking my cock in like that. If you even think about letting anyone else use this fucking cunt, I’ll kill them.”

You can do nothing but nod to his words, sobbing on top of the counter as Scaramouche uses you like you’re nothing but a hole for him to fuck himself into, unrepentantly slamming his hips into your ass, blunt nails digging into your skin.

Moans and whines fill the restroom, the air smelling of sex as you cried out his name with every thrust he takes. Your mind is far away, lost in a haze of pleasure, uncaring whether your voice will be heard by any passing teacher or student, uncaring of the unlocked door and the fact that if even one person hears your cries, the whole campus will know it by tomorrow.

So lost in your thoughts as you were, you failed to notice when Scaramouche pulled out his phone and started filming, angling the camera into the sight of his cock pushing in and out of you, a ring of cream gathered at the base, the squelching sound caught by the microphone. He moans, a guttural sound that he doesn’t even try to hide, pace stuttering and hips jerking into you in short, fast thrusts.

You’re unable to hide the way tears run down your cheeks, stopping yourself from reaching your climax until he allows you to, breaths fogging against the counter and toes curling inside your shoes, legs shaking from the effort of keeping your lower half upright, along with your impending release.

“Kuni, I wanna—I wanna—” You sob, unable to form the words and resorting to incoherent babbles.

“Fuck, fuck. You’re so fucking—” Scaramouche lets go of your hip and reaches for your clit, rubbing harsh circles into the sensitive little nub that has you wailing, your hands futilely trying to muffle the loud sounds. “Go.”

Your legs spasm, walls clenching down on him so tight, he has to stop for a moment as you reach your release. Your lips part to let out a scream the way you always do when the thread snaps and your orgasm hits you, and without fail, he reaches out to cover your mouth with his palm, fingers digging into your cheeks.

He lets out a few quick jerks of his hips before he releases inside you, biting down his lip to keep himself quiet, pushing himself deep inside and making sure not a drop of his cum is wasted.

Warmth explodes inside you, as familiar as the feeling of him pulling out, feeling his cum begin to flow out of your hole.

He remains silent, breathing heavy puffs of air before he leans in, pulling your hair back and pressing an impossibly soft kiss to your temple. He holds you steady as you wobble to a stand, arms sore and knees feeling like jelly, eyes red and drool slipping over your chin.

He holds your waist in a steady grip, his arm over your stomach to support you as he helps you pull your panties up and adjust the skirt of your uniform, smoothing out any wrinkles using the palm of his hand.

You watch him do all this with half-lidded eyes, mind still hazy from your climax. Your hands are tight over his arm, trying to keep yourself upright as you lean your back on his chest, trying to catch your breath. You spy his phone lying on the counter but think nothing of it, much too focused on the familiar script of Scaramouche’s quiet aftercare.

He could be so gentle during these times. In the aftermath of his rough fucking, when all that repressed anger has been spent on you, melting away and leaving a hollow shape in his chest. You think he doesn’t know what to do when he isn’t feeling anger or satisfaction — rather, he’s forgotten how to handle feelings that he might call shallow, such as happiness and love.

Quietly, he murmurs, a stark contrast to himself just minutes ago, “I’ll buy us dinner later, just the two of us. I’ll even drive you home after.”

It’s times like these that lets you see a glimpse of his old self, the Kunikuzushi you once loved.

But then he sighs, an annoyed furrow to his brows, and the tender moment is broken.

“Get off. Can’t you stand on your own? Or are you that stupid that you can’t even function without me?”

You take a step out of his hold, legs shaky but managing to support you regardless. From the corner of your eye, you spy him swiping his phone into his pocket, far too quickly for someone attempting to be inconspicuous.

Your heart sinks at the realization of what he’s done — again — but you only have yourself to blame for being so spineless.

Scaramouche turns to you, a considering look in his eye before he reaches out to smooth your hair into something that resembles less of a bird’s nest. He sneers at you, “Don’t go around looking like an imbecile.”

His hand clamps around yours, but despite the harsh look on his face, his touch is soft. He drags you out of the restroom, not even bothering to clean up the mess you’d made in the form of a few splotches of cum mixed with drool on the floor as well as the counters. But neither do you. All that’s on your mind is his hand on yours as he pulls you through the halls.

Like this, with only the back of his head facing you, you could almost pretend you’re back to being those naive children, giggling to each other as he promised to marry you someday back in the summer of your tenth birthday.

Perhaps that’s why you continue to stay, why you’ve never told your parents about the things he’d done to you, why you suffer through humiliation after humiliation just to continue being with him. And it’s unhealthy, you know that much, and maybe you should have turned your back on him when he knocked on your bedroom window with blood on his hands and a terrified look on his sixteen year old face — the beginning of the end, that one turning point in his life that made him the way he is now.

And maybe you do blame yourself for it, for not knowing how to help him, for being so lost and young and utterly ignorant of what was brewing in his head. Maybe that’s why you continue to stay beside him, the guilt of failing him, of failing Kunikuzushi.

His hand tightens around yours when you pass by a gaggle of male students, all of them looking at you with a smirk that soon dies when they see the expression on Scaramouche’s face.

And maybe you can continue deluding and comforting yourself with the thought that you’re here with him willingly, that it’s guilt and a sense of responsibility that makes you stay — even though you know the true reason is that he has a tight leash on your neck in the form of a video he took during the first time he had you, back when he still had bright eyes and a genuine smile, back when you still believed you loved him.

5 sundays of kinktober

word count — 5.1k

taglist — @pardofeliscalico @monicahar @monikidk @sunhareskies @thearcanafan @kaeyats @luvrsthrist @xinii @w9vyy @ineedavirtualboyfriend @holynix @myheartneverbe @karasuneo @rei-vi @shuvvs @miss-fantazmagoria @bunnlatte @shironakuronatasa @leleforpresident @scaranaris-lil-niko @holy365

[hushed-chorus]

Hi everyone! I’m climbing out of my cave and scheduling this in advance to spread the good word about vampire angst. Because, as anyone who’s read my blog title knows, I am a fiend for vampire angst, and there is some cracking vampire angst in this fandom.

Here's a selection of fics that dive into the tasty vampire stuff, especially ones that come with a serving of ‘this sucks actually’. I love all of these, but I’m sure I’ve forgotten or missed other great fics, so please feel free to reblog with your own recs!

Also, since these fics all deal with how being a vampire sucks, I’d recommend checking the tags before diving in.

The Eternal Life of Baz Pitch by @monbons

I am asking you all, please, hop on board and join me in reading along with this WIP. Monbons has a wonderful writing style; well-paced and impactful. She’s made some inspired choices in this AU. Angsty, clever, and so, so engrossing. Tasty angst so far, and we still have many chapters to go!

burning pitch by stainedglassflood

Lamb is a character who really fascinates me. This ficlet imagines a conversation Baz and Lamb would have if Lamb discovered Baz was a mage under less bloody circumstance. This short and sweet fic is something of a hidden gem, and I’ll cry forever that this is a 600 word fic, not a 60k one.

Crowding out the Bad (with Good) by twigs_in_my_hair

Another WIP, and if you are a fan of lore, this is one for you. This AU involves Simon trying to improve his diet with the help of nutritionist (and reluctant vampire) Baz. Twigs devotes so much to exploring Baz’s feelings about his vampirism, and how it has left marks on his life, behaviour, etc. And, of course, there's a lovely bit of slow burn Snowbaz along the way!

Joy and Trust by @bookish-bogwitch

Bogwitch constantly surprises and impresses me with her range. This short (400 words), sweet and heartbreaking ficlet sees Baz receiving a Visiting during the events of Carry On. I love it so much.

Proof of Life by @roomwithanopenfire

What if Natasha Pitch survived the vampire attack, but Baz still got Turned? What would that mean for Baz and the World of Mages? In this WIP, it means a Baz who is even more angsty about being a vampire than he already is in canon—and with good reason. Added bonus is the consideration for the wider canon divergence. What would Watford be like if Natasha is still headmistress but Davy is the Mage? Very intriguing fic so far, especially now we’ve landed in eighth year!

This is where it ends by LakeWitch

The least Baz-focused on the bunch, this fic is about the Mage taking Old Family children prisoner for leverage and the aftermath. It sees Baz hit his lowest point (gave me the big good sads), and then follows how he and Simon recover from all they’ve been through. Love it. 

A Record of You and I by Sip_of_your_soul

Argh. I just can’t. This one hurt so good. Want to die a little inside for fun? Read this.

Thanks everyone, I'm eager to see any recs you wanna make! Tags below the cut!

@artsyunderstudy @facewithoutheart @captain-aralias @raenestee @cutestkilla

@ivelovedhimthroughworse @larkral @stitchyqueer @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

@ileadacharmedlife @confused-bi-queer @aristocratic-otter @whogaveyoupermission

@nightimedreamersworld @fatalfangirl @thewholelemon @onepintobean @shrekgogurt

@theearlgreymage @martsonmars @blackberrysummerblog @orange-peony @valeffelees

@j-nipper-95 @rimeswithpurple @wellbelesbian @imagineacoolusername

@youarenevertooold @iamamythologicalcreature @supercutedinosaurs @alexalexinii

@bookish-bogwitch @cosmicalart @bazzybelle @theotherhufflepuff

@that-disabled-princess @prettygoododds @mooncello @noblecorgi @roomwithanopenfire

@emeryhall @monbons

[lynzishell]

Prev // Next

Transcript and Bonus below the cut:

Phoenix: It’s been ten years, almost to the day, since I lost my mom. I’ve been thinking about her a lot since we had Aspen. Something about knowing that she’ll never get to know her granddaughter. That Aspen will never get to know her. It’s a different kind of grief that I wasn’t prepared for.

Phoenix: [wipes a stray tear from his eye] After I moved in with Julian, I would come out here sometimes. I’d sit on this bench and look out at the water, and I’d talk to her. I’d tell her about my life, that I loved her and missed her, that I was sorry for being such a pain in the ass. I even told her about Malcolm. I don’t know why this spot. Maybe just because it’s pretty here, and away from everything and quiet, but I could almost convince myself that she could hear me.

Phoenix: I guess I hoped that by bringing you both here… well, it’s the closest I could get to introducing you.   Dawn: If your mom was here right now, would she prefer it if I called her Leanne? Or Miss Realta? Phoenix: [breathes a laugh through his nose] Definitely Leanne. She’d give me hell if I let you call her Miss Realta. Dawn: Okay. Well, Leanne, my name is Dawn, and I am madly in love with your son. We’re getting married in a couple of months, and I’m so excited. You’re invited, of course, if you can make it to Brindleton Bay.

Dawn: Most importantly, though, this is Aspen. She’s your granddaughter. Her middle name is Leanne, after you, of course. And, um, you should know that Phoenix is an incredible father. I wish I could’ve gotten to know you. And I wish you were here to give me some parenting advice because you clearly did something right, and I feel so lost all of the time. But I promise we’ll come back to visit, at least every Winterfest, so you can see Aspen as she gets older.

Phoenix: Thank you. Dawn: Thank you for sharing this place with us. I can see why you were drawn to it. It does kinda feel like she’s here, like she’s listening. Phoenix: [nods but doesn’t speak for fear that his voice will betray him] Aspen: [coos] Phoenix: [clears his throat] Did I ever tell you that she wanted to write children’s books? Dawn: I remember you saying she used to make up stories a lot when you were little.

Phoenix: Yeah [smiles at the memory] She was never able to pursue writing seriously because she was always working two or three jobs to take care of us, to take care of me. I always hoped she’d be able to one day, and that she’d publish her own books. I can probably tell Aspen a few of them from memory, but how cool would it have been to be able to give her an actual book?

Dawn: That would’ve been amazing. Out of all the stories she told you, did you have a favorite?

Phoenix: Oh, god, um… if I had to pick, it would probably be this one about a polar bear name JuJu that dreamed of going to Jupiter. [laughs] I remember, we were learning about the solar system in school, and we all had to do a report on a planet. I chose Jupiter. But I had a really hard time writing the report, I’d never done one before. So, she made up this story about my favorite animal, a polar bear, going to Jupiter. It was really funny and full of facts about the planet. Not only did I get an A on my report, but I made her retell the story about a hundred times.

Dawn: Aw, that’s so cute. I wanna hear it. Will you tell us the story? Phoenix: Right now? Dawn: Yeah. Phoenix: Okay, sure…

✨Bonus✨

And, of course, Aspen got to meet her Great Uncle Julian while they were in Copperdale. She was a little unsure at first, but she warmed up to him pretty quick. 🥰

[throughthetwistedmirror]

Doughnut Queen ~ *Ruggie Bucchi*

Summary: You’re visiting Ruggie’s hometown on holiday. You’re excited to meet his grandmother and the people he grew up with. Somehow, you get roped into making doughnut for everyone?

Pairing: Ruggie Bucchi X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Oneshot

Word Count: 1641

Warning: N/A

Masterlist

Taglist: @savanaclaw1996 @goseew

You couldn’t stop the smile on your face, even though Ruggie couldn’t stop snickering at you. It wasn’t everyday that your boyfriend took you back to his hometown. Any chance you could go to the Sunset Savanna, you jumped on the opportunity.

“Are you going to stare with your mouth open like a carp the whole time?” He giggled.

“I can’t help it! The Savanna is so beautiful! I wish I could stay here forever.” You heaved a lovesick sigh.

He shook his head, his fingers brushing yours. “You’re so silly. It’s not like you’re never going to see this place again. Besides, you’re visiting for the whole summer and the break just started! We’ve got time to enjoy everything the Savanna has to offer.”

Your smile grew impossibly wide. “You’re right! And you get to show me everything, and I mean everything!”

Ruggie laughed. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I’ll be a better tour guide than Leona.”

“Sounds good.” You pecked his cheek. “But first, you promised I’d get to meet you grandma. I want to meet her first.”

He seemed to pause for only a millisecond. “Ah, yeah, you’re right. We’ll go there first.”

With your ever present bright smile, you tugged your boyfriend along as you made your way into his home village. It was small, but charming. It also gave you a pang of homesickness, but you didn’t dwell on those thoughts. You were more concerned about meeting your boyfriend’s grandmother for the first time. Whenever you managed to get him to talk about her, he spoke fondly of how she took care of him and all the other children in the village. You were determined to meet the wonderful woman who shaped the amazing guy you were absolutely in love with.

When you reached his house, he stopped you. Scratching the back of his head, he took the chance to explain, “Hey, just so you know, my grandmother, she can be a bit much sometimes. So if she’s a bit demanding or rude, that’s just who she is. She’s old-school, you know? So just, be prepared.”

You squeezed his hand, ignoring his blush for the sake of his pride. “Ruggie, I’m sure she’s just fine.”

Before he could protest, you knocked on the door. When the door opened to reveal his grandmother, she lit up. Pulling your both into a hug, she squeezed you tight.

“Ruggie! You’re here! And you brought your girlfriend! Oh, and she’s absolutely lovely! I can see why you fell in love with her.”

While you laughed, he groaned in annoyance. “Grandma, please-”

“Oh, hush!” Pulling you closer, she gave you a once over. “Let me get a good look at you. Yes, yes, you’re perfect for my Ruggie. Now come in! Come in! Tell me all about school and how you two started dating.”

“Grandma!” Ruggie barked out, his cheeks a deep shade of red. You still continued to laugh. At least you got her seal of approval. You could breathe a little easier now.

The three of you talked for hours over watery tea and biscuits. You had to admit, his grandmother was a phenomenal baker. When you mentioned this to her, she thanked you and told you she would give you the recipe so you could make them yourself. Of course this led to a discussion all about baking. And since Ruggie knew more about eating pastries than making them, he kept quiet and watched with both relief and joy to see his two favorite people getting along so well.

As he was about to make some more tea, there was a knock at the door. Upon answering it, he saw a couple of the neighborhood kids. He smiled, crouching down so he was eye level with them.

“Hey guys. How can I help you today?”

The boldest of the three took a step forward. “We saw there was an outsider in town. We’re here to check it out.”

Ruggie laughed as you walked up behind him. “Looks like the whole town knows you’re here. Y/n, meet Ayden, Isaac, and Yesenia.”

You nodded and held out your hand. “Nice to meet you three. Thank you for stopping by. I promise I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

Ayden crossed his arms over his chest. “See that you don’t. We’ve got enough problems here already.”

Yesenia tugged on his sleeve, a small pout on her lips. “Ayden, hush. Mama said not to talk about stuff like that.”

You winced a little. “Ah, well, is there anything I can do to prove I’m here as a friend?”

“Can you cook?” Isaac asked.

“Of course I can! What would you like me to make?”

The three children glanced at each other before coming to a consensus.

“Doughnuts!”

You laughed, ruffling Ruggie’s hair. “I see where you get it from.”

Swatting your hand away, he whined. “Oh c’mon!”

Shaking your head, you slipped back into the kitchen. “Grandma Bucchi, do you mind if I make doughnuts for some of the kids in town?”

She grinned. “Why, of course! Help yourself! I can even go get more ingredients if you need it. I will tell you, these kids have bottomless stomachs, just like Ruggie. One won’t be enough to satisfy them.”

You nodded. “Of course. I’ll do the best I can.”

After that, you got to work. It’s been a while since you last baked. But the process was just like riding a bicycle. It didn’t take too long for you to get back into the swing of things. Before too long, you had made a few dozen doughnuts for the kids to try.

With the goodies on a tray, you went back into the living room, where Ruggie and the kids were roughhousing. Smiling, you set the tray down on the coffee table. All four of them scrambled over, practically drooling. 

“Alright. Tell me how I did.”

All it took was one bite and they were in love. The doughnuts were gone in no time and they were begging for more. You simply patted them on the head and promised you would do your best.

As you started to head back to the kitchen, Yeseniya tugged at your shirt.

“You should go to the community center. They have a bigger kitchen and more supplies so you can make even more doughnuts!”

Almost choking on nothing, you blinked owlishly at her. You didn’t think your doughnuts were that good! But her pleading eyes were making you melt. Besides, you were making these kids’ day by making them doughnuts. Who were you to deny them?

“Oh, I don’t know. We’ll have to see if it’s okay-”

“It’ll be more than okay.” Ruggie’s grandmother interjected. “We have people who come in to cook for those who can’t afford it all the time. Besides, the center is always open and fully stocked for whoever needs to use it. Money is hard to come by in these parts, so we’re always lending a helping hand to those who need it.”

A pang of empathy hit your heart as you thought about what she had to say. Well, if it was for a good cause, you had to do it now! So with a smile, you nodded.

“I’ll do it.”

“Yay!” The kids started tugging at you, dragging you to the community center. Ruggie just laughed and followed along.

Before too long you were cooking up a storm in the community center. Ruggie was acting as your faithful assistant, plating the warm doughnuts and setting them out for people to take. The three kids had raced around the town, telling people that there were free doughnuts at the community center. Ruggie’s grandmother was helping you keep up with all the hungry people. You had it all down to a system, making sure everyone got more than they needed.

While this wasn’t what you had in mind when you came to the Sunset Savana for holiday break with Ruggie, you were happy with how it turned out. It makes you feel good to help others and put a smile on people’s faces. You were swapping stories of home with Ruggie’s grandmother, and learning all of his embarrassing stories from when he was a little kid. It felt like you really had joined the Bucchi family and become a part of his home.

Little did you know that Ruggie was so happy he brought you home. Seeing you get along with his grandmother and his hometown made him swell with pride and love. He didn’t believe it was possible to fall in love with you more than he already was. Yet here he was, falling in love with you all over again. You were absolutely perfect, not just for him, but for his family as well. It was then that he made a vow to himself that he would never let you.

By the time the last plate of doughnuts were taken, the sun was setting on the horizon. You and his grandmother were out of breath, practically collapsed on kitchen chairs. He smiled tenderly at the sweet scene before him.

“Don’t worry about dinner tonight. I’ll take care of it. It’s the least I could do for all your hard work today.” He said.

You smiled gratefully at him. “Thank you Ruggie, that would be wonderful.”

“Think you can help your old granny home?” His grandmother asked with a breathy chuckle. “These old bones ain’t what they used to be.”

He chuckled. “Of course. Then you can tell me what you want to eat tonight.”

“Not doughnuts, that’s for sure.” She muttered as Ruggie helped her onto his back.

As the three of you walked back to his grandmother’s house, he smiled while listening to his grandmother go on and on about what she wanted to eat, your hand in his.

[wheredafandomat]

You should be mine

Prince! Loki x Queen! female reader

18+| contains smut, infidelity, bit of angst

The door to the carriage swung open revealing the cheering crowd of Asgard as well as the familiar sight of the bifrost. You began to exit, the arm of one of your maids being replaced by Lokis as he offered it, as well as a small smile as you began to exit the carriage. You took it, looking over at Thor once your feet were placed firmly onto the ground only to find him entertaining the crowd by throwing his hammer in the air and catching it. He loved the attention, you shied away from it as did Loki.

“He can be quite brooding” Loki remarked, closing the door to the carriage behind you. “He’s rather immature.”

“That’s no way to speak about the king.” You replied, smiling at the maid who began fixing your tiara. “Your king.”

“As well as being king, he’s also my brother and I have plenty choice words about him.” Loki grimaced as Thor stumbled, nearly hitting the ground when his hammer threatened to slip out of his grip.

“I don’t doubt that.” You answered with a small smile before making your way towards your husband who had finally stopped tossing his hammer around. Once you reached him, he took your hand in his, giving it a small squeeze before you both addressed the crowd. Thor was going on a visit to some of the other realms in the hopes of uniting them and being the queen of Asgard, all royal responsibilities fell to you now. As Thor continued to speak, Loki made his way towards the other side of you, offering reassurance as Thor promised Asgard was in good hands. You smiled sweetly as he spoke, the crowd loving their rulers as if you three were above the all mighty. If only they knew the chaos, the lies, the deceit that lurked behind the palace doors, they’d not be as cheerful, trusting.

“And so I leave Asgard with the knowledge that my Queen consort as well as my brother the prince will take good care of it.” Thor declared before finishing his speech.

“You told me you wouldn’t be going to Midgard.” You spoke in his ear, spotting one of his warrior friends holding the roster which clearly had Midgard on it.

“It’s only a short visit.” He replied, keeping a smile on his face for anyone who could be watching your conversation.

“We don’t meddle with midgardian affairs unless of course it’s her you’re going to see.” You spat, Loki glancing in your direction as he heard the argument.

“I’m allowing you to take the reins here y/n, and you have Loki to help you with any royal duties you are unfamiliar with. See this time as a good thing.” Thor smiled brightly before pressing his lips to yours, the crowd erupting with more hearty cheers before Thor left your side, making his way towards the bifrost.

“So I was thinking that we’d build a statue in the middle of the square perhaps with a wishing well for the children to—are you even listening?” Loki demanded, looking at you as you sat on the throne, admiring your nails.

“Oh brother mine, how you drone on.” You sighed, looking towards him.

“I am not your brother.” He affirmed.

“In law” you corrected, rolling your eyes.

“I’d not use the term brother of any sort to describe our relationship considering the fact that we—well, let’s just say found ourselves engaging in rather amorous team bonding activities upon your first arrival at the palace.” He smirked as you blanched. “And a few times after you had settled in at the palace and that one time in the gardens and how could I forget that time in the—”

“Shhh, shh, sh.” You hushed, jumping from your throne and striding towards Loki before slamming your hand over his mouth.

“Oh come on, I know you think of me when you’re with him” he spoke in a low tone, pushing your hand away from his face causing you to take a step backwards “I bet you think of me when you’re alone too; legs splayed open as you touch yourself. Just, thinking, about, me.” He continued to speak, stepping closer towards you as his eyes dipped from yours down to your lips. “I’d go as far as to say you want me now, your body craves my touch. Doesn’t it.” He finished, eyes meeting yours again. You swallowed thickly before you answered.

“You can build the statue.” You replied before pushing past him and walking out of the throne room, aware of his eyes on you as you did so. You made your way towards Thors bed chambers knowing that Loki wouldn’t try to find you there. You didn’t frequent it much. You both had separate ones as well as one shared one you both didn’t visit anymore. At the beginning of this courtship, one you were both practically forced into, sleeping together in there was something done for pleasure, enjoyment rather than out of love because you both weren’t in love, you doubt your feelings for one another have  flourished since. Your relationship together was a convenience, you both knew that but deep down you had hoped that you could grow to love one another. With the lack of love came the lack of intimacy and the lack of intimacy grew into a desperate need for fulfilment; fulfilment the younger prince provided. You knew it was wrong, of course it was wrong, but you needed something, anything. You knew that Thor had been unfaithful but when he vowed that he wouldn’t again, you promised the same. How very ignorant of you.

Stepping inside, the first thing you noted was the jewellery on the dressing table, clearly a woman’s but not yours. The wardrobe was open a jar and you practically ripped the door off when you noticed ladies nightwear hung up. They looked different, not of this realm. You felt nauseous when you realised it was hers. Had he had her here? On Asgard? You began ripping the things off of the hangers and throwing them onto the floor. How dare he? Despite not explicitly being in love with Thor, you couldn’t help the tears that began streaming down your face at the betrayal.

“Am I to remind you that when my brother isn’t here, I’m not just a prince, I’m practically king.” Loki warned, his eyes narrowing at the guard that was standing in front of Thors chambers.

“But-I-sir” the guard fumbled before Loki pushed passed him with an exasperated huff. Opening the door, he swallowed down the sarcastic quip he had for you as he saw you destroying some garments with tears staining your cheeks.

“Oh y/n.” He exhaled sympathetically, making his way towards you on the bed as he took the scissors from your hands.

“She was here.” You cried, falling into Lokis arms as he sat next to you on the bed. Looking at the shredded clothes and the tears in your eyes, it was evident who she was. He’d never treat you like that, how Thor treats you, as if you were some common wench. He’d treat you how you deserved to be treated, he’d romance you, hold you closely, touch you tenderly, that much he was sure of. There wouldn’t be a day you’d deny his love for you but fate hadn’t allowed that possibility to come into fruition. You didn’t belong to him, you were Thors.

“You deserve so much better.” Loki spoke earnestly, kissing the top of your head as he cradled you to his chest.

“D-do you actually mean that or are you just saying it?” You questioned, sitting up properly.

“I mean it.” He reassured, conjuring a handkerchief before he began dabbing at your damp cheeks. There were a few moments of silence before you spoke again.

“I do” you sniffled, looking at his face as he concentrated on wiping your tears away.

“You do?”

“I think about you” you admitted “a lot.” Pausing his movements, Lokis eyes met your own before you continued. “I think about the nights we’ve spent together, the days, I think about the times I catch you looking at me, all the times we’ve been so close to just running away together. I think about the women you bring to the palace, the ones you sleep with in the brothels, I wonder if you think about me when you’re with them, if you touch them how you touch me, if you kiss them how you kiss me.” Lokis eyes dipped to your lips in what felt like the tenth time today before he cupped your cheek, brushing his lips against yours in a gentle kiss.

“There’s no one I’d touch like you, I am yours entirely.” He uttered, looking deeply into your eyes. “You possess me y/n.” He finished before you kissed him again, more purposefully, more passionately. He pulled you flush against him, kissing you back intensely. His hands held your cheeks, his tongue pushed past yours as you parted your lips. You moaned into the kiss as he pulled you into his lap, laying against the bed as you straddled him.

“But you do touch them yes?” You spoke, panting as you caught your breath back. There was a new fire in your eyes, a determination, Loki noted it as his lips curled up into a smirk.

“Yes.” He agreed.

“Show me how you touch them.”

Wordlessly agreeing, Loki switched your positions so that he was above you, between your legs as he leant down, capturing your lips again. You lifted your hips slightly, wanting to grind against his evident bulge as he rolled his hips against yours. The constraints of your clothes were proving bothersome, stopping you from receiving the pleasure you deserved, the pleasure only he could grant.

“Loki.” You mewled, needing more of him, desperately.

“You want to be taken like a whore hmm?” He muttered, pushing your dress up your legs. You nodded in response, hiking your dress up further. Freeing his cock, he gripped it with one hand as he reached between your legs with the other, pushing your underwear to the side before gathering your slick and lubricating himself with it. Your head fell back as you felt his fingers against your clit, toying with it for a few moments before his fingers were replaced by the tip of his cock. He ran it through your folds, teasing you, taunting you. You tried to raise your hips again, needing to feel him. “No, you’ll take what I give you.” He tutted, holding one of your hips down with his hand before he lined himself up with your entrance.

You both moaned as he pushed inside of you, filling you completely, your walls wrapping around him, coaxing him further. He gave you mere moments to adjust before he was pulling out and entering you again. Your nails dug into the leather of his tunic as he fucked you, teeth bared as he swivelled his hips. His name fell from your lips in hushed praises as his hand reached between you both, circling your clit in slow rehearsed circles. You were drowning in pleasure, finally getting what it was that you craved. Your hand wound up in Lokis hair, the black trestles wrapping around your fingers. You could feel your climax approaching quickly with every calculated thrust.

“Lokii, I’m so closee.” You gasped, eyes closed tightly.

“Go on, let go” he cooed, edging you closer to the precipice before you came with one last lewd moan of his name “that’s it” he coaxed, thrusting into you a few more times as your walls pulsed around him.

“Ohh Loki.” You whimpered, coming down from your high as he continued entering you slowly, prolonging your orgasm.

“He doesn’t deserve you” he spoke, leaning down to kiss you “you should be mine.”

A/N: OMG I WROTE SOMETHING 🤮 wheredaficsat 😂

Tags:

@lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @mochie85 @lulubelle814 @lokisninerealms @lokiprompts @vickie5446 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @mcufan72 @fictive-sl0th @peaches1958 @lokilvrr @evelyn-kingsley

[bagdaddyb]

A Weems request!!!

So reader is a teacher her and Larissa are married and have a adopted one of the nevermore students maybe some fluff with the kid and on parents weekend Morticia is confused on why there is some random kid clinging to the Larissa till it is revealed that she has been married for years now and has a family

Thank you if you get to it or find it interesting!! Love your work!!💚🤍

Little Apple

Warnings: None pretty fluffy, unedited 

Authors note: Reader is not a teacher omg I suck at remembering the details of the request, Im so sorry anon I will rewrite if you don't like it

"But mooooooom."

Larissa couldn't help the smile on her face as she gave her son an amused look.

"Your mother will be here tomorrow for parents weekend and if there is even one scratch on her little apple we will both be in for it. I don't know about you but I want to enjoy the weekend with your mother not get scolded for all of it."

A laugh left the young siren boy's lips as he listened to his mother knowing just how you could get when it came to him, still remembering the time you made an old woman apologize when she accidentally brushed past him in the store when he was six and that was only a week after he had been adopted.

"Fine I won't go, but Wednesday will not be happy."

A sigh left the tall woman as she sat in the chair next to her son.

"I'd still rather it be her than your mother."

Another laugh left her son at that before he stood and embraced his mother in a tight hug, always one for physical affection from his parents he often hugged Larissa anytime they encountered one another. A pleased chuckle left Larissa's lips as she hugged her son in a tight embrace smothering him with kisses, laughter echoed in the room as the boy struggled to get away.

"Stop it mom."

A bright smile shone on Larissa's face as she ran her fingers through her sons hair.

"Alright off to bed your mother will be here around eight."

Nodding in agreement her son grabbed his backpack as he headed towards the door having been with his mom since classes let out.

"I love you Atreis."

"I love you too mom, sleep well, actually get some sleep."

......

“She said no.”

Wednesday’s face remains neutral as Enid’s face drops.

“Awww but I was actually looking forward to hunting in the woods.”

Enid whines out as she falls unceremoniously back on her bed.

“No matter we will only be gone a few hours.”

Shaking his head Atreis held firm.

“Sorry Wednesday I have to agree with my mom on this one, my mother will be here in the morning and I’d rather have a happy weekend.”

An eyebrow raised on the usually stoic girls face.

“Your mother? And here I thought Principal Weems preferred a life of solitude. Very well then we will postpone our activities.”

Atreis’s face contorted to one of confusion but nonetheless he turned leaving Ophelia hall for his own dorm room. A spark of excitement coursing through him at the thought of seeing you tomorrow.

......

Larissa's smile was blinding as she stood at the quad entrance welcoming all the parents that had come to visit their children. Nothing could contain her elated mood as she eagerly looked past every head awaiting yours to pop in the crowd. As she raked her eyes over the crowd for a forth time she suddenly felt a collision from her right.

“Good morning Mom.”

Atreis said as he hugged the white haired woman tightly. Looking down with a soft smile Larissa’s focus shifted for the first time in the past half hour.

“Good morning darling, did you rest well?”

Atreis only hummed in response with a smile enjoying the familiar feeling of his mom’s fingers running through his hair.

“Good morning Larissa.”

Morticia Addams voice catches the principal’s attention causing her to look up.

“Ahh Good Morning Mrs. Addams, so glad to see Wednesday’s parents could make it.”

“Anything to see my little storm cloud.”

Gomez pitched in with a smile, one Larissa returned in kind.

“Tell me Larissa do you always let your students cling to you in such a way?”

Atreis had only just let go of his tight hug opting to stand close to his mother as they waited.

“My students no never that is highly inappropriate. This is my son Atreis.”

A perfectly sculpted eyebrow lifted at that.

“Your son?”

Before Larissa could respond Wednesday appeared next to Atreis stealing everyone’s attention.

“Mother, Father.”

“My little viper, I knew I felt the winds get a little colder.”

A slight smirk appeared on Wednesday’s face in response, a beautiful hum flowed through the air notes of high and low that formed together to create an enchanting tune. Wednesday and Morticia observed the smiles that spread on Larissa’s and Atreis’s faces before looking through the entrance of the quad. A pathway seemed to form straight through the crowd your ethereal presence filling the room as you hummed your familiar tune calling to your son. You were a force everyone felt enter the room, there was something about you, a power an aura who knows but it called attention. Demanded it. Your smile was blinding, beautiful yellow dress flowing in the wind as you approached the entrance bright siren eyes glistening in the light.

“My loves.”

You said in greeting causing both bodies to move your direction. Your son collided with you first, tight arms wrapping around you as he buried his head into you, your familiar scent filling his nostrils. Larissa was merely a step behind wrapping her arm around your side before meeting your lips in sweet kiss.

“Hello my love.”

You release a happy hum as Larissa briefly puts her forehead against yours. Once she lifts you look down at your son bending to kiss his head before you pull him away from your body.

“Stand up let me have a look at you.”

Atreis did so proudly standing straight and even puffing his chest a bit for you.

“Aye my little apple how fast you grow. You look healthy, such a handsome young man your hair is getting long.”

You say as you run fingers through his tresses.

“I like it.”

Atreis smiled happily at his mother before Larissa cleared her throat catching your attention.

“Darling this is Morticia and Gomez Addams, old classmates of mine.”

Your razor sharp gaze is redirected to the family you only just now realize is hovering in front of you.

“My apologize it has been many moons since I last saw my family. Where are my manners, I am (Y/N) Weems. Larissa’s wife.”

You say as you nod in greeting.

“Wife? I was unaware you were married Larissa. That’s.. wonderful. How long have you two been married?”

“Going on thirteen years now.”

You said with a bright smile, one Morticia seemed to fakely return. 

“Mother I’d also like to introduce you to my friend ....”

“Wednesday.”

You finish for him with a bright smile.

“My son talks about you often, I do enjoy the stories of your ‘adventures’ together.”

“Anything he’s said is a lie I’m far worse.”

You only continue to smile as you speak.

“I would hope so.”

Turning back to your wife your smile remains.

“Well my love, I’m starved shall we eat something?”

Larissa goes to open her mouth in rebuttal, wanting to greet all the parents as they came in but with a quick sharp look of your eyes that response dies in her throat.

“Of course dear.”

Another small smirk appears on Wednesday’s face as she takes in the scene before her. Walking away with her own family she can’t help but think she might like come to like you.

[starsandhughes]

Penalty Box Series— National Best Friends Day

SERIES MASTERLIST

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, trevorzegras, and 17,043 others

yourusername dear quintin,

i never had a big brother. i didn’t know what it meant to have any sort of siblings until i met all of you, let only someone who cared enough to protect me and clean up my knees when i fell on the sidewalk. i never knew what it meant to have a real family.

then you came along. well, i guess jack came along, but i knew you were different from jack from the beginning. you’d walk me to class every morning in elementary school until you left and made sure my french braids were straight before i went in. you helped me on all my school projects, you scared away bullies, you gave me your hoodie went you went to middle school so that “you could still walk me to class,” and in fourth grade, you officially became my best friend.

no one else will ever have a best friendship like ours, and i think that’s pretty special. we live over a thousand miles away and we still manage to make each other a priority. to quote kelly clarkson, “my life (my life) would suck (would suck) without you!”

i love you more than words, huggy💙

p.s. i can’t forget to mention how grateful i am for my best friend number two, @/colecaufield! i love you!

p.s.s. i also can’t forget to mention how much love i have for all of my friends. so to jacky boy, turcs, lukey moosey, jamie baby, z-baby, and many more (teammates i’m looking at you) (especially petey because he calls me every week), i love you, i’m grateful for you, and you’re not allowed to leave me until you die <3

p.s.s.s. to all my sons, fatherless or not, you’re all a delight to be around and i love and miss every single one of you!

p.s.s.s.s. dear jack, i’m (not) sorry i traded you in for the better model, but without you, i don’t know where i’d be. thank you for giving me the family i deserve and being my best friend from kindergarten through third grade❤️

tagged _quinnhughes

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_quinnhughes trevor’s right, you can be a sweet girl! i love you so much, sissy💙 don’t worry, i’m contractually obligated to stay your best friend until i die and i intend to keep that promise

yourusername aw you sap!

_quinnhughes there’s my girl, i was getting concerned

jackhughes you’re concerned??? she didn’t tease any one of us in her sappy post

yourusername @/jackhughes stfu toothless i will shove you off the boat when you least expect it

jackhughes there’s my girl

trevorzegras we’re friends???

yourusername i mean i think so

trevorzegras that’s news to me

yourusername you’re lucky i love you

trevorzegras forever?

yourusername always🧡

jackhughes i just threw up so much i started bleeding

yourusername @/jackhughes that sounds like a you problem

trevorzegras um… anyways… i love you, forever🧡

user23 i’m not crying you are

user4 i’m just picturing little quinn petting down fly aways and making sure sissy has both braids over her shoulders and hugging her before class🥹

colecaufield i love best friend number two! can’t wait to see what movie you’ve picked for us this week!

yourusername it’s definitely one we haven’t watched before

colecaufield is it the new jennifer lawrence movie?

yourusername that’s not out til the 23rd!

colecaufield but i’m assuming you’re taking us all to the movie theater?

yourusername my home girl is back from the dead, of course we’re all seeing the new jennifer lawrence movie

colecaufield you don’t know her???

yourusername home. girl.

user91 i will never recover from this

colemcward i love and miss you, too, mom! i’m honored to be your and quinn’s son!

yourusername my favorite child! you should come visit! we got snacks!

colemcward i’ll see what i can do

lhughes_06 @/yourusername you shouldn’t rank your children

yourusername @/lhughes_06 mom ranks us

_quinnhughes @/yourusername no, mom ranks you first and the rest of us are tied for second

yourusername @_quinnhughes that’s what you think

user80 i envision sissy as like the team snack mom to far too many hockey teams

yourusername i do what i can🫡

_alexturcotte forever my favorite smoke buddy! i love you!

yourusername enough to give me back my bong?

_alextucotte not a chance <3

_eliaspettersson i love you, too! i’ll call at three your time

yourusername i’ll be anxiously awaiting your call!

user21 i’m perplexed as to how y/n manages to do little things with about 800 people to keep the friendship alive

jamie.drysdale i love you soooo much, ex wife! you make my life entertaining so please never leave

yourusername i’m with ya til the end of the line

jamie.drysdale is that a comment about my hair?

yourusername sure is ya bucky barnes looking ass

trevorzegras @/yourusername does that make me steve rogers?

yourusername @/trevorzegras you’d like that, wouldn’t you?

edwards.73 i miss you the MOST

yourusername aww i miss you the most! i love you!

edwards.73 i love you, too, mom💛

user2 sissy and quinn >>> jamie and trevor

jackhughes sap alert! (i love you, too, soulmate)

yourusername come cuddle

jackhughes omw

dylanduke25 team mom! team mom! team mom!

yourusername can’t wait to crash the team sleepovers

dylanduke25 wrong! you’re always invited to team sleepovers

lhughes_06 you’re more than my friend, you’re my sissy and i love you❤️

yourusername you made me cry you jerk <3 i love so much, lukey moosey you don’t even know

lhughes_06 i think i’ve got a solid idea

yourusername well it’s wrong

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for demanding my dad change his passwords?

I (20M) came out as a transgender man four years ago to my family including my dad (now 57M). At the time, he was very verbally (key word there) supportive, and even though he and the rest of my family still have failings with gendering me correctly four years later despite… everything, they don’t use my dead name out of… what I assume to be respect but likely isn’t. Begrudging awareness they’d be berated by any rational family members, more likely. My dead name was his grandmother’s name, so I respect the name— it’s just not MINE.

My dad has family accounts for all of the streaming services we use, and then for our wifi, etcetera— fairly normal, right? But his passwords are all some variation of his children’s names! Except mine is my dead name. (Example: [Child1Child2Deadname] with, of course, added on numbers and the like to make it more secure.) I spoke to him about it a long time ago, when I’d just come out, and he refused to change it. I then found out that his Peloton username was [Deadname]Dad, which, while sweet, is also unbearably uncomfortable to me. Every time I go back home to visit, I have to type in a password that features all of my father’s children— and then the young girl I am not anymore and very likely never was. I’ve been considering speaking to him again on the subject, since he seems to be taking my transness more seriously now— before, he was clearly under the impression it was a phase.

It feels like he thinks I’m dead and he’s honoring me. But I’m right here. So would I be the asshole if I demanded he remove my deadname from his passwords and usernames as an homage to who I used to be?

What are these acronyms?