#and its not gonna end well and its not gonna stop the fact that things will get worse

[moeblob]

Amazing, take some of the side character demons from Evil Bound.

Vincie is a menace to Chuck and Chuck alone so in Hell, Chuck hexes his hand behind his back so that he isn't grabbed as much (and it's harder to pet him). Chuck is like the most irresponsible older sibling ever to demons though so Kelvin recruits him (as an older sibling vibe) to go help him get his ACTUAL older sibling from Earth. Chuck agrees. And then drags Vincie from Hell with them because no one else wants to babysit him and he refuses to unbind the hex just to re-hex when he returns to Hell.

In Hell, Kelvin actually doesn't appear much different than his human form! Like Kronos, the lines under his eyes are red in Hell but black on earth. Chuck however? In Hell he has wolf-ish ears and has a fur lining his neck (note the neck scars in human form). In addition to that he has four eyes in Hell (note the scars under his eyes in human form). Vincie just has horns in Hell. And! In Hell the hex doesn't have a silly looking "tied up" look, it's invisible unless Vincie strains it with movement and then its red text. But it shifts on earth to be visible.

Vincie's biggest agony for the entirety on earth is "dude it's colder here than in Hell I want a jacket to slip my arms into BUT I CANT BECAUSE IM BOUND".

[butcharondir]

When I were in Brum, guineas only caused pain. But look at that fucker. That's total joy, that.

The Gallows Pole (2023) // What Will We Do When We Have No Money? (Traditional)

[strangersynth]

reducing mike and el's love for each other to something that'll make their relationship stumble and fall if not evaporate when they break up will never not be like emptying a room and then walking in and wondering why its empty.

[cicidraws]

im not well.

[nomaishuttle]

ALSO sry im so talkative today idk whats gotten IN to me but anyways. its sooo crazy 2 me that ppl have other birthdays that arent the sake day as my birthday like obviously i know ppl do but its crazy to me. bc january 13th is like My birthday ykwim. like its such a good day to have a birthday on so beautiful 1/13/2005 gods specialest girl was born ykwim.

[olivianyx]

GET YOUR DREAM LIFE: A CHALLENGE

Welcome to this challenge, babygirls and babyboys 🗣️🗣️🗣️

So are you ready to manifest everything you desired in April? Then start up rn!

I'll show you 5 important, simple steps you can use to manifest your dream life!

This challenge will be done for 30 days throughout April. At the end of this month, the results are guaranteed!

You might be wondering if its gonna be hard... Buuuut! The steps are super duper simple, just follow them!

THE STEPS:

🤍 MENTAL DIET 🤍

Y'all heard it right, maintain a strict mental diet, like literally stop wavering! Stop focusing on things you don't want! Don't accept things you don't want! It's that simple. Only focus on positive and favourable thoughts.

Your mornings should go like, 'uhh it's such a beautiful day. It's gonna be amazing day as always. But it's gonna be fun today! I literally love this life, it's freaking amazing, I literally don't know how to thank myself for this. The fact that I'm the ultimate creator is soo mind blowing for me even though I've always been for my entire life. I'm literally thankful for everything! My life's being too perfect and I get what I want everytime, everything's in my favour always. I literally look soo amazing in every outfit I wear, it's such a slay everyday. Uhh I'm soo lucky to have what I want. Literally my self concept is supreme' and blah blah blah. You can add whatever you want further lol.

So like literally throughout the day steady yourself in this mindset. If you catch yourself wavering, be like *sike there ain't no chance bitch* come back on track! Catch yourself waver ---> stop ---> drop ---> flip it into something positive or favourable.

Literally robotic affirming is the only way you can keep your thoughts in check. So go bestie! Keep your head high, keep a check on those thoughts inside your pretty/handsome head 😩 keep slaying everyday ✨

🤍 ROBOTIC AFFIRMING 🤍

Keep affirming babygirls and babyboys! Like literally don't even stop (unless you're doing smth important, then stop affirming for a while lol) y'all got your dream lives already 💅 so why y'all telling yourself that you don't?? Well y'all do have it, so tell yourself the ULTIMATE FACT that you have your dream lives already 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️ tell yourself whenever you're free, like even doing your daily chores such as taking a shit or shower, or brushing your teeth, eating, scrolling through the phone, or walking, waiting in a queue (I'd never wait in a queue... Cus I don't go to places with long ass annoying queues 😭) or listening to music or watching TV, doing the dishes or doing self care (I love my babygirls and babyboys taking care of themselves like there's no tomorrow 😩✋🏻I'mma give y'all a nice smooch 😚) just do it my babies! It's the ultimate way to get (which you already have it) your dream lives! So get tf up babies! 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

🤍 LIVING IN THE END 🤍

This step shouldn't be missed at all babies! So focus on the end! Focus on having it! Focus on thinking from the end! Like you already are living yor dream lives, you have that car you wanted cus you already drive it everyday! You have that sp that loves you till death, that spoils you with their love, money, and what not?! You have that house you've been dreaming of! No, I mean living! You're living in that house already! It's yours my love! You got that perfect sculptured summer body ody that the normal human beings are jealous?? Like you have that body effortlessly 😩✋🏻 FOCUS ON HAVING IT BITCHES 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

🤍 USING SLEEP TO YOUR ADVANTAGE! 🤍

Listen here, my babygirls and babyboys! You sleep 7 to 8 hours a day, and sleep, according to medicals, is a state of complete rest. That means you're not aware of your surroundings. You're just being a black, quiet, space like floaty state (the void actually) so things are easier to manifest Instantly in this state! So why not do psych k or sats or the lullaby method before bed and after you wake up my loves?? It's so much more effective that what you do in the day time! Trust me! Go prepare yourself well for the bed babies 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

🤍 PERSISTENCE 🤍

Since you already affirming that you have your dream lives, you have it already! But you can begin to doubt that why is it not in the 3d... BITCH DON'T EVEN THINK LIKE THAT. Be like 'bitch wtf my life literally feels like a dream come true moment everyday 😭😭 like I'm literally living the life I wanted, I already am experiencing it wtf are you talking about' like literally GASLIGHT YOURSELF INTO THINKING LIKE THAT (cus you already have your dream life) like literally decide that you already have! Hold onto the new story no matter what! 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

So ig I've told you what you needed to do... So all you gotta do is follow the fucking steps babies 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

Okay, take care, love y'all babies! Byeee

- olivia 🤍

[vexwerewolf]

why is it that we only have like two licenses from any mech producer that’s a good guy? For a game where like there are clear good and bad guys (even if who you play isn’t necessarily linked to that) it seems strange to me that the only loot and XP you get is… more benefits from the bad guys

I can tell you the answer, but to do so, we're gonna have to talk about a completely different TTRPG.

If you've read @makapatag's truly excellent Filipino martial arts TTRPG Gubat Banwa (and if you haven't, here it is), you may notice that every single character class description (with one notable exception) ends with one of these babies:

I am not Makapatag, and I cannot write with quite as much grace and eloquence as he can, but I will try:

If you choose to become a Lancer, ask yourself why you mock the name of peace with these weapons of war. You call yourself a saviour, but your steed was forged from the murder of a world. You stride across the sky in a colossus built in your own image, so why are you too cowardly to give it your face? Why do you believe these machines of death can preserve life?

It is important to note that the admonitions in Gubat Banwa are not just there to make you feel bad; they are there as legitimate questions. The Sword Isles have seen so much blood, death and tragedy. Wars are not glorious and killing is not a game. So, knowing all of that, why have you taken up this discipline - no matter how noble and virtuous it might claim to be - to shed more blood, to bring more death, to write more tragedy? What could possibly drive you to this? What need is so great that you must kill?

The thing with Gubat Banwa is that there are legitimate answers to these questions! There are bad people doing bad things, and some of them will not be stopped with words or kindness. Sometimes, as sorrowful as it is, killing is the correct choice to prevent greater suffering and deeper tragedy - but adding less misery and death to the world is still adding some amount of it. Even the most necessary wars will drench the ground in the blood of the innocent.

A sword is a tool meant to kill humans; while it can be used for other things, it is not well-suited to anything other than this. A mech is, in its most basic essence, just a very complicated sword: it's usually used on things larger than a person, but it's still a tool built to kill.

So why have you taken up this path? Humanity was saved from the brink of extinction and has created wondrous technologies like printers, cold fusion and mind-machine interface, and yet you use them to play soldier in a giant metal man. Why do you choose to take up this machine of death, built by the greedy and pitiless? Why do you think these machines can ever make things right?

Because sometimes, despite everything, they can.

Warhammer 40K shows an awful world full of monsters and monstrosity, and in the darkest moments of its history, Lancer's world looked just as bleak, but Lancer's world differs in one crucial way. Warhammer's world has long given up trying to be better, but Lancer's world never did. Lancer's world kept insisting a better world is possible, and it used what tools it had to make it so.

Sometimes the correct choice, no matter how bitter it may seem, is to kill someone. When you need to do this, a sword is a perfectly good choice for the job.

If you find yourself discomforted by the fact that all the people you can buy mechs from are corrupt and immoral - good! You have correctly engaged with the text. You have understood that the sort of people who would make giant walking death machines and sell them for profit are not good people. But you still have a job to do, and you need the correct tools, and those people have them.

Lancer is not a game about a perfect world - it is a game about a deeply flawed and imperfect one that does not let its imperfection stop it from trying. You have to try to make a better world, even with imperfect tools made by unpleasant people.

[irndad]

hi im back! okey so def can see spencer still wanting to hug and snuggle with you even when fighting or mad at each other. he even gets genuinely ??? confused ??? when you try to sleep on the couch instead of in bed at night. he holds you and either reader or him is like "i know we are snuggling right now but i am still super pissed off at you." lol i can just see it. he may be petty when mad but he wont stop trying to touch you bc its a biological need of his and no argument is more important than needing you 🥺

enjoy this I did it very fast!!!! ily

He knows he’s not easy to be with sometimes. She would never say it, but it’s true. He doesn’t always get the jokes, sometimes pushes things too far and without even knowing it the ground gets pulled out from under him. 

And sleep- Sleep is so complicated. The memory of the first time she slept in his bed is etched into a place he could never erase. Spencer had always had trouble sleeping, either fear or alertness plaguing him into the late hours of the night. He used to lie awake, the kind of exhausted that feels like it’s seeping out of your bones, while constantly facts he’d unwittingly memorized about how sleep deprivation can cause brain damage. 

But then she’d come into his life. All soft words and gentle disposition, and there really is something magic about the way that everything just dissipates when her warm, soft body curves into his own. He’s slept well almost every night since. 

Except today, she isn’t coming to bed. 

It’s his fault, and he knows it. He wasn’t being fair. She hadn’t seen him for two weeks (and he hadn’t slept nearly enough without the weight of her form beside him since the last time he saw her) and she’d said that she wanted to be prioritized more. 

“I haven’t seen you in weeks, Spence!”

His head was killing him. Was it actually possible, for a headache to kill you? Her voice is audibly upset, and it’s alarming how he could be the cause of it. 

“Please,” he had said through labored effort, “Can we talk about this later?” 

“When would you like to talk about it? Because I don’t ever know if you’re leaving-“

“Do you even know what it is that I do?  That it’s not a choice for me to go? I have to do this. I can’t pick and choose and honestly, I don’t want to. If you don’t get that, we’re not doing what I thought we were doing.”

It sounds foreign, his own voice. And it’s after he’s said it that the sick taste reaches his throat because oh, that means the end. Her lovely face is unreadable for a brief moment, before something like grief splays over her expression.

It’s silent for a beat, and Spencer wishes he could swallow the words back up, rewind his life like a battered VHS tape where he’s not so stupid to mess up the one thing that’s ever brought him peace.

“You’re not yourself, Spencer. I’m gonna give you a minute.”

A minute, it turns out, is hours in the living room. She hadn’t left, thank fucking god, but she hadn’t come back. Of course she hadn’t. She wasn’t the one who needed to apologize. 

He’s just so tired. 

He thinks of her so-sweet voice, the curve of cheek- the junction of her neck and shoulder, and how much he would like to have her pressed against him. He pads out into the living room like a nervous puppy, and sees her sleeping on the olive green couch she had picked out. Her hair was splayed across the arm of the sofa, and her head laid on a throw pillow, their fuzziest blanket draped across her form. 

His first thought is how low he’s dropped, that he’s jealous of a blanket. 

His second his that she is not coming to bed. He sits beside her gingerly, and the scent of her body wash lingers in the air. 

“Are you planning on coming to bed?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” He can tell she wants to sound cold, but the truth is much worse; she sounds guarded. 

“I always want you to.” It’s the most honest thing he’s said today, and it’s just not fair, how much he revolves around her. How he has waited 14 days, 13 hours and 34 minutes to hold her again and managed to ruin it within the first 20 minutes of having seen her again. He grabs her hand, soft and pliant against his in a way that almost makes his heart leap. “Please? Come to bed?”

Her gaze softens, the warmth and light that guides him back in her eyes, and he hopes his relief isn’t too visible. It’s then that she drinks him in. It feels too revealing like she can see right through him. His clothes are old. He’d rushed off the jet to see her, and the half moon circles under his eyes only lend to the unimpressive picture of himself. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes, touching the side of his face. He instantly leans into it, the contact more than he’d be willing to give up to save his dignity. “Come here.”

She wraps her arms around him, and he pulls her into his lap, squeezing her tight to his chest, like she might disappear. 

“I’m still mad at you,” she says, looking at him with such affection it betrays her words.

“That’s okay,” he says into her collarbone, “As long as I still have you.”

[privateanxieties]

sweet like wine

Summary: You realize how much you like it when Frank is vocal during sex.

Pairing: Frank Castle x f!Reader (no y/n);

Words: 2.1k (18+ shameless smut, aural kink, fluff, intimacy, explicit consent, mutual masturbation, sexy voicemails, dirty talk, established relationship)

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

The first time took you completely by surprise.

You weren't expecting a man of few words like Frank, quiet and brooding as he was, to become the picture of an enthusiastic lover once the lights went out and you found yourselves taking the next step in your relationship. That's not to say you didn't expect a certain… level of intensity. Frank was not a bland man — simple and direct, maybe, but he brought a particular devotion to everything he did. He didn't mince actions, or words for that matter. But he also didn't use too many of them regardless of the circumstances, so you didn't expect reality to be any different when it came to intimacy with him. You imagined him to be passionate, and you were not wrong. However, in all your fantasies (and there were plenty), he was always quietly focused. Encouraging, but not with words. Filthy, but never this articulate.

You take me so fuckin' well, baby.

That's it, soak my fingers, let me feel it.

Gonna come, sweetheart? Make a mess all over my cock?

It was nice to be wrong. So nice, in fact, that you almost came untouched just from listening to him tell you what he wanted to do to you the first time you made love. The noises that escaped his lips as he barely pressed his hips into yours drove you insane. He wouldn't let you have it until you asked, slowly and languidly grinding himself against you through the satin of your panties, enough to ruin them and fry your brain, but not enough to give you that rush of pleasure you were dying to get from him. He took his time with no issue, like the clock stopped moving the second he molded his lips to yours.

"That feel good?" he mumbled against your neck, biting down in response when you didn't answer right away, too lost in the warmth of his skin and the pretty noises he was making.

"Uh-huh," you moaned, shivering as he licked a path to your collarbones and his beard left a pleasant burn in its wake.

"You want more?" he taunted, placing a kiss to the swell of your breast.

"Yes, Frank." Then, thinking it not enough, you quietly added a 'please' on the end of a breathy whine as his lips wrapped around your nipple.

You came to learn you didn't have to beg with him, unless he wanted you to — because if you thought you liked it when Frank talked during sex, he was singularly focused on making you utter words that would make a fiend blush. You were resistant at first, partly because the more you'd talk, the less he would, and you couldn't have that. Yet pretty soon you realized that hearing you speak the filth you did to him garnered an interesting and previously unheard noise from your lover.

Frank's only response as you rode his cock and told him how well he filled you was to whine.

In retrospect, you couldn't have known that would be the thing to unlock a noise you didn't think possible, but you certaintly didn't complain when his hand grasped your jaw and his lips mashed to yours, trying desperately to stifle the alluring sound by pressing it into your mouth and making you dizzy with want. That sound worked to push you over the edge just as well as his skilled fingers on your clit. It got you so worked up that sometimes just the memory of it hitting you in the middle of the day was enough to heat up your skin and make you wish you had a recording of it. Which was how the real trouble started, when Frank left on a longer assigment from his contact at the CIA.

Now, you would be fine without him for a couple of weeks. You'd done it before, and you understood the nature of his work and how it'd be woven into your relationship. You knew that when he'd leave, it wouldn't be the same as going on a business trip. There was a strict no-contact rule he enforced, both because he often simply didn't have the means to get in touch and because it was the safest thing to do. He wouldn't put you in any jeopardy because he missed you, and you'd long ago accepted that as fact and respected his decision.

And that was the reason why a voicemail from Frank arriving dead in the middle of those fourteen days away almost provoked a heart attack— twice. First, because you thought something horrible had gone wrong. He was hurt. He was in trouble. Maybe this was all he could do to say goodbye. Your blood pressure couldn't have been any higher as your thumb inched towards the play button on the message, and you thought you could drop to your knees when the first thing to come out of the speakers was a long, drawn-out groan.

This was it. You were going to lose him. He was dying somewhere, alone, and you were never going to see him again.

"God, babygirl…"

You waited with bated breath, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, and then the second uptick in your pulse occurred.

"Fuckin' miss you so much. Need to feel that tight pussy squeezin' my cock."

It wasn't hard, given how wound up you already were, for your body to make the switch from horrible adrenaline to an absolutely euphoric rush of pleasure. It happened so quickly that whiplash wasn't far behind, and you gripped the arm of the sofa as you slid down to the floor, unable to stand any longer. Heart beating wildly in your ears, you forced yourself to calm so as not to miss his next words.

"Wish you could see how you got me right now… fuckin' my own hand like a goddamn teenager," he groaned.

You couldn't have helped your reaction if you'd tried. Switching the phone to your other hand with a tell-tale tremor, your dominant one slipped down the front of your leggings and straight into your dampening underwear, fingers moving in tandem with the background noise your ears were hypnotized by. You could hear the motions of Frank's fist going up and down his cock, could make out just how easily his hand moved over himself and feel the phantom taste of him in your mouth. Your own fingers picked up the pace on your pulsating clit, mind trying to remember the sensation of his rougher digits caressing you.

"Gonna come, baby?"

Startled, your tightly closed eyes were pried open to glance at the screen, wondering if you hadn't somehow called him in your frenzy. But no. The voice note kept playing, and the pretty groans kept coming.

"You're so fucking close. I know it. You're thinkin' about me touching you. Can't stand that I'm not there to do it."

High-pitched whimpers spilled from your lips, feeling so empty and wishing he could fill you at this exact moment. You were soaked through your panties, heat turned up inside yourself so much that sweat began to build at your temples. You were a mess in less than two minutes, and all it took was a goddamn recording of his voice.

"Frank…"

Moaning his name into the empty room made you feel dirty and horribly desperate, fingers slicked up to the point you had trouble getting a consistent motion. Your chest was tight with shallow breaths, spine tingling and legs cramping from how wound up your muscles were.

"C'mon sweet girl, let go. Soak that pussy f'me," he demanded in that gruff tone he always used when he brought you right to the cliff's edge.

"Frankie, please…"

You'd lost your mind, begging him for something he could neither hear nor grant you. But he knew. He always knew. Between the sounds of his own slick motions and heady groans, a noise you loved more than anything broke through just when you thought you couldn't take any more.

He whined your name on the end of a heart-stopping moan and just like that, you were gone, vision going white as you threw your head back hard against the armrest you forgot was there. You panted wildly as your hand kept moving, not stopping until you heard that beautiful shudder fall from his lips, signaling his own release. Every inch of you was electrified, sitting there as you breathed together, hours apart but still in sync.

You didn't tell him about that moment, because there was no need. When he made it home at the end of those two weeks, he neither greeted you nor removed his shoes, simply picking you up and planting you onto the counter before burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"Want you to show me," he asked, warm breath hitting the outer shell of your ear. Disoriented, all you could do was make an inquisitive noise. You'd barely had time to take him in before he was on you.

"Huh?"

"I wanna see how you did it. Want to know how you touched yourself f'me last week."

Your heart picked up in double time, knowing he was dead serious and that you'd do anything he asked. This was uncharted territory for both of you, and you were a little shy to try something like this out of nowhere. What would you even do? You weren't even that used to touching yourself anymore, last week having been a rare exception. It was nice and definitely an intense experience, but it still paled in comparison to the average night with him. Or, as it were, the average day— because he apparently expected you to do this right here, right now. On an early Sunday afternoon where you hadn't even bothered changing out of your slip dress.

Sensing your hesitation, he pulled back to look into your eyes as his hands found your hips, thumbs rubbing soothing circles through the thin fabric covering them.

"Don't you worry, baby. I'm gonna guide you through it. Watch my pretty girl touch herself like I tell her to. Whaddaya say, sweetheart? You want that?"

Like I tell her to.

Fuck, yes. You wanted that. You wanted it so badly apparently that Frank saw it in your expression, because he smirked as soon as you looked at him all wide-eyed.

"I…"

"Yeah? What is it, baby?"

He must've known, by that point. With how attuned he was to your body and needs as a general rule, it shouldn't have surprised you. Of course he knew you had it bad. He knew exactly what you liked and why you liked it, and he went so far as to break his one rule in order to drive you even crazier than usual. Maybe your brain shortcircuited too severely after that voicemail, because it was only now that you were realizing…

"You sent that on purpose," you said, a pout forming on your lips.

"Sure as shit didn't send it by accident," Frank retorted, an amused snort bubbling out of him.

"I'm being serious! You knew this whole time?"

"Knew what, huh? That my girl likes a little back and forth during sex?" he grinned, delivering a pinch to your hip.

"All sex is a back and forth, Frank," you deadpanned, knowing exactly what he meant but unable to avoid sassing him.

"M'not suggesting anything different," he shrugged, eyes slipping down your body with clear intention.

Right. Back and forth. He talks and you… You struggle not to come from his words alone. A tempting proposal.

"I want to. I'm just not sure what to do," you admitted, winding your arms around his neck as you finally took a good look at him. He looked good, his beard having grown out even more during his time away.

"What'd I say? You ain't gotta worry about that. S'my job. Just gotta listen to what I say," his voice rumbled in your ear as he leaned in again, a brief but meaningful touch of his body to yours making you realize he was half-hard already.

This man was going to be the death of you, but you had no doubt: he would always making good on his promises, especially the ones he whispered in your ear.

.

.

A/N: Just the product of a horny brain. Hope you enjoyed it!

[thehauntedetheral]

Can I request Yandere doctor x patient???

Yandere Doctor

Requests are open!

• The world should just end. It was the only thing you were manifesting right now as you were walking down the street.

• Why? Because well when you were mourning at home on your parents death anniversary your boyfriend of years was cheating on you with some random girl. And also your landlord has given you the notice to leave the house in 2 weeks all of a sudden. The only thing you have now is your job.

• You were going to meet a broker to find a new house when your stomach ache started again. You have been feeling this way for quite some days but you ignored it as you haven't got much time between finding a new house and your love life's drama. And on top of that this stomach ache. Just great. Please god just kill me you thought when out of nowhere you felt fainting. No. No god I just thought that figuratively not literary Please don't kill me you thought before black took you over.

• You woke up and found your self on an hospital bed. An IV attached to your hand.

• An handsome doctor came in giving you a polite smile. "Glad you woke up. You fainted on street a kind stranger got you here. You fainted due to appendicitis. It was infected so we took out via surgery. The staff called your emergency contact which is your friend I guess. she signed all the surgery and consent paper while you were unconscious. We have to keep you here for two days under observation just in case nothing serious." The handsome doctor said. Well that explains everything how I ended here you thought.

• After the doctor went your friend came in. Fussing all over you.

• Your friend stayed with you most of the time during the 2 days. You both thought that the doctor was so polite, good looking and handsome. Especially more handsome in his scrubs

• During the two days you were in the hospital. Yan Doctor would stop at your room a lot unnecessarily.

• He would check up on you a lot saying "doctor duties" when it was not at all necessary but who is gonna tell you anyways.

• Would try to chit chat with you and your friends during his break.

• Switched his shift with his colleague just to be around you went it was his day off.

• When he heard you were looking for a house. He told you a house beside his is empty and affordable so if you want you can move there.

• After getting discharged you went to get a look at the house. It was so spacious and beautiful yet it's price was too low according to its infrastructure you thought when it should cost a lot. Nevermind the owners loss you thought and moved into that house.

• You and yan doctor were neighbours now.

• He would often invite you for meals at his house. Under the facade of "I again made too much".

• Helps you in shifting and settling down. Saying "I am just being a good Neighbour".

• Well in reality the owner of that house is none other than yan doctor. He knew that this house's rent value is a lot but he told you less because he wanted you closer to him. In fact he wanted to give you this house to live at free but that would cause a lot of suspicion so he told you a very low price.

• Has been obsessed with you since he saw you unconscious on the stretcher brought into hospital looking beautiful as angel. He thought you looked beautiful while unconscious. But when he talked to you saw you smile, heard your voice he thought you were out worldly. Just Divine.

• This man is madly in love with you.

• Kills your ex with a overdose of drug making it look like an accident just because he was jealous and mad that he hurt you emotionally. How could someone cheat on such a perfect human? He thought.

• Tries his best to become close to you and become your friend and more.

• Gives you health advice all of the time.

• You fell sick? This man becomes your personal doctor, nurse everything.

• Has so much money that always showers you with your favourite coffees, meals and tickets to movies or concert. His reason? "Well I was just passing by and saw this I know you like it so I bought it for you". When in reality this man specifically goes to that place just for getting it for you.

• He sees your one smile and feel like he won in life. This man is whipped for you.

• If you ask this man for his heart he would literally tear his chest and pull his heart out for you. Nothing matters to him except you. You are his everything.

• When you get an invite to a wedding. You thought who should I take with me as a date?

• Yan Doctor keeps throwing hints at you all week indicating that he wants to be your wedding date. This man is so desperate for you.

• When you finally ask him to be your wedding date. This man is the most happiest person in world. You might think you just asked him to marry you by looking at his happy expressions.

• Well don't worry darling because he is damn sure you are gonna marry him one day.

• With you being conscious or high with drug. Choice is yours darling. After all he is a good doctor and knows how to use them well.

Want part 2? Let me know through comments.

Requests are open!

For more yandere reading:

[hqbaby]

five — crush them

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.9k content. profanity, lots of stress first thing in the morning

When you wake up, you’re vaguely aware of the foot on your face. And the elbow pressed against your thigh. And the hand on your knee. And the drool on your sheets.

You open your eyes, blinking as they adjust to the light, and look over at Sukuna, spread out on the mattress in a deep slumber. There’s an impulse to kick him, an impulse to laugh at how he hasn’t changed at all, still as much of a restless sleeper as he was in high school. But there’s another impulse—to jump out of your bed because you are so fucking late for training.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim, throwing Sukuna’s leg off of you as you practically crawl out of bed, half of your body still asleep while the other fights for its life to get up. “I’m gonna die!”

Sukuna’s awake now, eyes wide with panic as he watches you scramble to your closet and grab your shorts, shirt, socks. “What?” he says loudly, scrambling to get up too. “What’s happening?”

You pull your shirt off, completely ignoring the fact that you’re getting undressed in front of your well-known pervert of a best friend, as you search for a sports bra in your dresser. “I’m late!” you say, more to yourself than to him. “Coach is gonna have my head!”

“What?” he says again, louder this time, as he topples out of your bed, his head hitting the floor. “Fuck!”

You glance over at him. He’s rubbing his forehead as he searches for his hoodie. “Why are you panicking?” you ask, panicked.

“Because you’re panicking!” he says. He finds his hoodie and pulls it on, quickly rushing for your bedroom door. “I’ll drive you! You can change in the car!”

You’re standing in your bedroom in nothing but your bra and pajamas, hands full of clothes. If you were thinking clearly right now, you’d tell him he was being stupid. There’s no way in hell you’re going to get changed in his car. What is he even doing here in the first place? But your better judgment has escaped you and the only thought in your head is loud and blaring: You’re late.

“Move faster!” you tell him, grabbing your tennis bag in the corner and rushing past him. At least you have enough sense to not forget your phone and house keys before you’re running out of the apartment, Sukuna hot on your heels.

The two of you eschew the elevator, both knowing just how much time you’ll lose waiting for it, and run down the three flights of stairs to the parking lot.

“Where’s your car?” you yell at him over your shoulder. It occurs to you then how ridiculous you must look, half-dressed and completely deranged. You can’t bring yourself to care.

He points at the beat-up thing at the end of the parking lot. “There!” he says, tossing you the keys. “Go!”

You run ahead and start the car, jumping into the backseat as Sukuna finally catches up to you and gets in the driver’s seat. He steps on the gas as you haphazardly change into your clothes before checking to see the time. 

You’re ten minutes late as it is. You are so going to pay for this.

“Can’t you go any faster?” you ask him, smoothing out the creases in your shirt.

“Not if you don’t want to die.”

“I’m already gonna die!”

He swerves onto campus grounds, speeding as the car darts straight towards the sports complex. “If we die, do you think we’re going to hell?”

“Definitely,” you say, already on the edge of your seat as he pulls up in front of the gym. “Bye!”

You rush out of the car, running past a group of bewildered guys from the basketball team as you zoom ahead, running on pure adrenaline. When you get to the gates of the tennis court, you stop dead in your tracks.

Your bag.

You’re running back, already out of breath when you bump—well, crash into something. Or, to be more specific, someone.

There’s a moment when you feel your legs give under you and you’re ready to fall onto the ground. You hope that it’s a clean fall, one that won’t end in you dissolving into a puddle of flesh and bones. You wait for the fall, the pain, the terror.

And it never comes.

Instead, you feel two hands on your waist. A chest against yours. A voice saying your name with concern.

You look up.

Satoru.

His eyes are on you, searching for any signs of injury, any signs of distress. His grip on you is tight and familiar. His gaze is scrutinizing, but oh so comfortable.

There’s an impulse to cry to him and tell him that you’re late for training. That you’ll probably never see you again because you’re going to die very soon. That you want him to hold you forever. That you miss him. That you want him back.

You jump away, not allowing yourself to melt into his touch even if your body is screaming at you to let it. “Shit, I’m sorry,” you say as you try to find your balance. You realize that one of his hands is still on your waist. “I didn’t see—”

Another voice calls your name.

Sukuna runs towards you with your bag in hand. His footfalls slow when he sees you. When he sees Satoru.

“You forgot your bag,” he says, blinking as he processes the picture before him. You and your beloved ex who has his hand on you. “I thought you were late.”

You don’t have time for this, you decide, rushing over to grab your bag from him. “I am,” you say, already turning to run back to the court. “Thanks!”

You’re leaving before either of the two men can say a word.

“Finally gracing us with your presence?” your coach, Yuki, says as you step onto the court. To your relief, she doesn’t look too upset, even slightly amused. “Had somewhere better to be?”

“No, coach, I’m sorry,” you say as you take your place beside Mai. The rest of the girls on the team look at you with worry, confusion. “It won’t happen again.”

She crosses her arms over her chest and sighs. “You know what to do.”

You hang your head. “How many?”

“Five,” she says, hands already waving you off. “Go, go. We’re doing drills.”

You nod, dropping your bag on the benches before going off to do laps around the court.

It’s only as you’re running that the whole morning dawns on you. You woke up next to Sukuna. You got undressed in the back of his car. You literally ran into Satoru. And Sukuna found you with him.

It shouldn’t bother you as much as it does that your best friend who, yes, you are dating but only as a ruse, saw you with your ex. But it still leaves a weird feeling lingering in your chest, like a cough that’s just waiting to explode.

What should bother you more is how you were so ready to fold for Satoru. And, yet, that somehow feels right. It’s like you always knew you’d want to run back to him given the chance. It’s like you never wanted to leave in the first place.

As you hit your fourth lap, one thought strikes you: You don’t feel as tired as you usually are.

The past three weeks have been a haze of sleepless nights that have rendered you useless in the morning. You go to class, go to training, find it in yourself to eat, then lie in bed wide awake. Any moments of rest have quickly been interrupted by your recurring night terrors.

But you slept well. A solid few hours of dreamless sleep. As much as you want to deny it, you can’t help but think that it has something to do with the fact that you didn’t sleep alone. That Sukuna was right there beside you the whole time.

“What’s up with you?” Mai asks, handing you a bottle of water when you finally finish your laps. “You’re not usually this out of it.”

You take a swig of water and wipe your forehead with a towel. “Just a weird morning.”

She doesn’t buy it, because who would? So she stares at you, hard eyes waiting for an answer. While both Maki and Mai are capable of being completely terrifying, there’s just something about Mai that makes you shrink back, want to run and hide.

“The breakup’s been tough,” you tell her, immediately regretting it as soon as you say it. You can’t believe you’ve become the kind of girl who falls apart because of a guy. It’s embarrassing, but now you realize it’s probably warranted at times. Especially times like these. “It’s just a bad time.”

She raises a brow. “You can’t let it get in the way though,” she reminds you. “We have a tournament next week. I’m not losing my scholarship because you’ve decided to slack off.”

Now, that strikes a chord. That lights a fire. That starts a challenge. Like fuck are you going to let her think you’re slacking off.

“Fuck you,” you say, putting your water bottle down. You take your racket out and nod towards the court. Two of your teammates are already on the other side of the net. “Let’s crush them.”

She grins at that. “That’s my girl.”

“You can’t let her egg you on like that,” Maki says, watching as you slather yourself with Salonpas on the floor of your living room. “She’s just being a bitch. Like always.”

“I know,” you tell her. You wince as your muscles tense beneath your touch. “But she’s right. I can’t let Satoru get in the way.”

Your friend eyes you suspiciously. You can tell that she wants to say something, but she’s clearly holding her tongue.

“What?”

She feigns innocence. “What?”

“You have something to say,” you tell her. “So say it.”

Maki shrugs. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.”

“It is.”

“Maki.”

She stretches out on your couch, her head lolling to the side as she lies down. Avoiding your eyes, she says, “Maybe it’s not just Satoru who’s getting in the way.”

“What do you mean?” you ask. “I haven’t broken up with anyone else.”

“Sure,” she says, looking at you now. “But you and Sukuna have been spending an awful lot of time together.”

You find yourself shaking your head automatically, as if you were just waiting for her to say that. “That’s stupid.”

Maki gives you a knowing look. “Okay,” she says and drops the subject completely. She knows you, and she knows you’re definitely going to be stubborn about this. Because there really is nothing going on with Sukuna. He’s just your friend, nothing more. “So what are we having for dinner?”

“Do you mean what are you going to buy me for dinner?”

The two of you bicker before deciding on heating leftovers from the other night. You’re not exactly sure that the leftovers in question are still edible but that hasn’t stopped you before.

While Maki raids the fridge, you unplug your phone from where it’s charging by the couch. And that’s when you see it. Or, well, them.

booger: i left my sunglasses at ur place

booger: give them back tnx

satoru <3 : i hope training was okay

satoru <3 : can we talk sometime?

notes. idk about you guys but i would run back to gojo at the first chance too 🧍‍♀️

[moeblob]

Deacon loves two things: Ymber and digging himself a grave.

Fulj hates one thing: Deacon.

[loveinhawkins]

Eddie’s been well aware of his feelings towards Steve, ever since his heart still managed to skip a beat even while running for his life in a nightmare alternate dimension, just because Steve was in his line of vision; all he could think was Well, shit, this is pretty fucking inconvenient.

(What he’d meant was inevitable.)

But he doesn’t act on it, doesn’t dare to even think of it being as serious as love or he’s the goddamn one, not until…

It starts as a small thing. He’s still getting back into the swing of playing the guitar just for fun, just for him—when the mood strikes him, he fiddles away at his acoustic until some kind of tune forms, nothing all that complicated.

Wayne had got him a new stack of blank tapes, and he records himself singing a few times, improvising lyrics that end up sounding a bit like folk songs he’s heard in his childhood.

“Which one’s better?” he asks Steve idly on a cloudy afternoon; they’re long past the stage where he feels nervous at the thought of Steve hearing him sing, a familiarity grown between them: something more than just ‘forced’ bonding through near-apocalyptic circumstances.

He plays a tape while they lounge on the bed, and the second version of the song is barely over when Steve begins to speak.

And Eddie isn’t really expecting him to give a serious answer, because, well, the singing isn’t all that serious, honestly. The recording isn’t professional, his lyrics chop and change, the melody loses its way a bit in the middle before returning; it’s hardly the kind of thing a producer would play in an idealistic movie and say kid, I’m gonna make you a star.

(That’s not why Eddie’s recording, anyway. It’s more to prove something to himself: this hasn’t been taken from you. It can still make you happy.)

“Oh, this one, no question,” Steve says, with such confidence that Eddie almost wonders if he’s gonna reveal that in between the whole side hustles of Family Video and killing real D&D monsters, he is, in fact, a producer.

“Hmm, interesting. Why?”

Steve shrugs, brushing against Eddie with the movement, like he’s saying isn’t it obvious?

“I can hear you smiling in this one,” Steve says.

And Eddie…

Just stops for a moment. Like a song left on pause.

He’s unable to stop the question that comes spilling out.

“Can I, uh… Steve. Can I kiss you?”

The soft rustle of sheets; Steve’s face is suddenly so close that Eddie closes his eyes on impulse.

“Thought you were never gonna ask,” Steve says, and Eddie can hear his smile so clearly—and when their lips meet, he feels the shape of it, too, feels the smile grow as his song flows on, a joy that cannot be contained.

[feirceangel]

Imagine | Protect (Luffy)

Imagine guarding Luffy’s hat.

Warnings: hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1,224

(Not my gif)

There is something you are one hundred percent certain of. In a life plagued with precariousness and anxiety, there is one truth you can always cling to.

And that is the fact that your captain, Monkey D. Luffy, always has your back.

No matter what situation you find yourself in, he never fails to brighten your day with a smile and defeat whatever foe you're facing.

Whether you're homesick, bored, or literally having your life threatened, he's always right by your side.

He guards each of his crew with a vigour that only he can. His warm smile brighter than a thousand suns as he celebrates yet another victory.

There is another thing you're certain of.

That your captain has one treasure more precious than any of his other objects.

His straw hat.

Given to him by the infamous Red-Haired Shanks, Luffy values that hat above all else.

Even at the cost of his own safety.

There's been countless times where you've watched in horror as Luffy was struck but managed to keep one hand firmly atop his hat.

It never got easier seeing him battle men quadruple his size and strength. Your stomach would clench with worry and you'd do your best to help battle the other opponents, but you always felt so helpless.

Watching him take on such intense foes made you feel proud of him and also concerned for his well being.

Although now that you've been sailing as a Straw Hat Crew member for months, you've come to realize that your captain can take on anything.

His hat, less so.

So, here you sit, quietly mending his hat as Luffy gapes at your handiwork.

"Awesome!" He grins, face alight with joy, "You're good at this, Y/n!"

"I'm just glad you're okay," you confess, carefully stitching away.

It's no secret how you feel about Luffy: everyone on the crew knows about your crush. And you have confidence that Luffy feels the same way.

It's in the little things he does. Always finding an excuse to hug you, explore new islands with you, and even share his food with you. And he never shares his food with anyone else.

So, it's safe to say he at least likes you.

He laughs, "You need to stop worrying so much!"

"You need to stop getting beat up!" You fire back, finishing your stitch. "Seriously, I'm starting to think you like pain."

He laughs, "I don't! But I got him in the end, Y/n! That's all that matters."

You sigh and motion for him to bow his head. He does and you gently set his hat back in its rightful place.

He grins up at you, "Thanks, Y/n! Let's go see if Sanji's done making supper!"

Luffy snatches your hand in his as soon as you drop your needle into your sewing kit. He drags you into the kitchen, using his devil fruit power to snatch up an apple.

"Sanji," he mumbles around a mouthful of fruit, "When's food gonna be ready? I'm hungry."

"Not yet," the cook shakes his head. "I need thirty more minutes."

Luffy groans loudly, leaning his head on your shoulder, "That's too long!"

"You have to wait!"

Luffy scrunches his nose in annoyance before dragging you outside again. Once there, he shoves the apple near your mouth, "Have a bite!"

You're surprised he hasn't eaten it all already. Opening your mouth, you take a large bite of the tangy goodness, humming your approval.

"Thanks," you start to mumble but he stops you mid sentence by leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.

A furious heat flushes your face at his abrupt actions.

"W-what was that for?"

He grins and swipes his tongue over his mouth, "You had juice on your lips."

You're floored, unable to respond as the kiss replays in your head. Meanwhile, he's already walking away with a giddy giggle.

~

You watch with bated breath as Luffy's hat goes flying.

He's fighting a particularly strong foe, having to use all his focus on the battle.

Without a second thought, you race after his treasure, determined to keep it safe for him. He's always doing so much for you, so you want to return the favour.

The other Straw Hats are occupied, no one noticing as you slip away to chase after the stray hat. A strong wind has blown it quite the distance, and you find it stuck on a tree branch.

You grab it, turning on your heel to trudge back to the main fight. But there's a problem.

A large group of marines stand in front of you, each one wearing a menacing grin.

"Look who we have here," the supposed leader comments, stepping forwards.

You instinctively hide Luffy's hat behind your back, grinning back ferociously.

"Gentlemen, what are you doing so far from the real fight?"

"Could ask you the same," he sneers. "What's that behind your back? Is it the infamous Straw Hat Luffy's straw hat?"

Your grip on the straw tightens.

"You're in charge of safeguarding it huh? Is that all you're good for?"

They laugh amongst themselves.

"I wonder if they'd kick you out if you failed the one task they gave you," he steps forward again.

"Over my dead body," you hiss, taking out your weapon after securing the hat to your belt. "If this hat is destroyed, then I have no reason to go on."

Before they can make the first move, you've taken down two of them, angered at their words and fuelled with the desire to protect Luffy's treasure.

The fight goes on too long.

Outnumbered, you take hits that knock you down and leave you bloodied and bruised. Maybe even with a few broken bones.

By now, you're on the ground, clutching the hat in your bloodied hands as a torrent of kicks fall on your back.

You took down well over half the marines but the few remaining are mad as hell and taking it out on you.

You barely register the outraged cry of your captain as he shouts, "Gum-Gum Gatling!"

The kicks stop as your attackers go flying, landing with dull thuds. They don’t get back up again.

Luffy is quick to rush to your side, “Y/n! Are you alright?!”

“Luffy,” you manage a small smile, shakily handing him his hat. “I protected your treasure.”

He doesn’t smile, in fact he looks angry.

“Idiot! You’re my treasure,” he shouts, gripping onto your shoulders, “And now you’re hurt!”

Confused, you stare up into his eyes, “But you love this hat.”

“But I love you more,” he shakes you again before screaming for Chopper to come and assess the damage done to you.

After you’re back on the ship, nicely bandaged and safe in bed, Luffy approaches you again. He seems less energetic than normal, dragging his feet as he comes to the bed.

“Thank you for protecting my hat. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.”

“Luffy,” you gently clasp his hand, “You’ve always protected me.”

His eyes are wet with tears, “But-“

“I couldn’t ask for a better captain,” you reiterate, pulling him closer. “You’re all I could hope for.”

“Really?”

“Honest,” you smile, “Now come here.”

You drag him into your arms, wincing slightly. He is cautious of your injuries, gently returning your hug.

“Thank you.”

[talaok]

Hiii, I saw you are accepting requests so I have one. Joel and the reader are married and one day they have a stupid fight but she gets really mad. Joel doesn't want to apologize and she decided to make a sex string. She starts to tease him. She starts to change clothes in front of him, she starts to use nice lingeries and put lotion on her body before go to sleep. One day Joel gives up and says sorry and then they have sex.

Sorry for writing a long request . Thank you 😊

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: sexual tension and allusion to smut

a/n: Whoever you are anon, I owe you a HUGE apology. I am terribly sorry for the wait, really, i don't know what happened, im sorry

You weren't someone who took things personally, nor did you deem yourself touchy, but everything has its limit.

He had called you a neat freak. I repeat, a neat freak

You, his wife, who he was supposed to love and support 'till death did you part.

He had called you a neat freak just because you had(rightfully) gotten mad at him when (for the millionth time) he had left his clothes all over the bedroom floor. 

And you had (again, rightfully) gotten mad, but he (for some godforsaken reason) didn't even want to think of the possibility of apologizing.

So you had done the most reasonable thing,

You started to make him pay

Now Joel Miller was a strong man, he remained unfazed by whatever life threw at him, he was not a man who was easy to put in a difficult position, but most importantly, he was not a man who liked to surrender.

But to every strength, there's a weakness, and Joel Miller's only weakness, together with his daughter... was you

Or more accurately,

The fact that he couldn't resist, you

So when you started changing in front of him, when, at the end of the day, you stripped slowly right in front of where he was lying on the bed... when you stopped wearing shorts to sleep and started only wearing panties and the tiniest tops or one of his shirts... when you put on that sexy little lingerie you had bought as a surprise for his birthday just before bed, biting down a smirk as you watched his jaw fall slack when you propped one of your legs on the bed so you could slowly massage it with lotion...

all those times, you saw his reaction, you saw the way his eyes darkened, the way he palmed his crotch thinking you couldn't see. But even as he approached you, his hands just as sultry as his voice you had pushed him away, because he hadn't done the one thing you wanted to,

and until he was going to admit defeat and do it, he was gonna have to suffer.

But today... today as you applied lotion to your whole body, his hands felt especially good.

"hello there" he murmured from behind you, his lips already on your neck and his hands on your waist.

"If you think something's gonna happen, you're wrong Joel"

"c'mon sweetheart, you've been torturing me all week" he breathed, his hands trying to lower down to your butt before you slapped them away

"I haven't been torturing you" you corrected "You've been torturing yourself." you watched as he frowned, his eyes too busy drinking every inch of you to look into your own "If you want this to be over, you can simply apologize"

And you would have liked to be able to say that you didn't expect what he did next, but the truth was that Joel Miller was incredibly predictable for someone who knew him as well as you did.

And the truth was, that it was a miracle he hadn't caved in the first day, and now he had reached his limit. 

He was so tired, and god but he had missed you

"I'm sorry darlin'" 

You didn't even bother to hide the smug smirk erupting on your face.

"say it like you mean it" you encouraged, placing the bottle of lotion on the nightstand before turning towards him, finding him inches away from your own face.

"I mean it, I'm sorry sweetheart" he promised, his big hazel eyes only helping him out right now "I won't do it again. I apologize"

"I'm not a neat freak?"

"no" he shook his head, one of his hands going to your cheek to stroke it while the other remained on your waist "You're not a neat freak sugar, you're the most amazing wife anyone could have asked for" he murmured, meeting his lips with yours "and you're so hot you drive me crazy"

"mhh, am I now?" you hummed, a mischievous tint in your tone and in your fingers in the way they played on his chest.

"you are" he nodded, slowly pushing you onto the bed, and crawling on top of you 

A soft laugh bubbled inside your chest as you wrapped your ankles around his back "What else am I?" you murmured to his ear, as he busied his mouth with your neck

"You're always right," he said, one of his hands groping your boobs through the fire-red bra "And you're smart... much smarter than me" he groaned when you grinded up on the hard bulge probing from his boxers "ad you- you're-fuck-" his breath caught as your hand seeped underneath his underwear and freed his cock 

"What?" you asked

"You're fucking perfect sweetheart"

"mhh" you hummed happily, biting your lip as you guided him to your entrance "and don't you ever forget it again"

[superhaught]

Gym Class Heroes (Chapter Two)

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warnings: homophobia

Word Count: ~2300, Part 2/?

Part 1

Regina pursues her interest in protecting reader as she recovers from the basketball to the head.

Turns out, you did indeed have a mild concussion from the basketball incident, so you took the weekend and the following Monday off of school to rest and recuperate.

You were napping when your mom knocked lightly on your bedroom door and then came in. You woke up and saw that she had an armful of things.

“One of your school friends stopped by and brought your homework from today plus a card and some snacks, how sweet!”

You sat up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes, “one of my friends? Do you know who?”

“Oh I don’t know, sweetheart. She was blonde and tall and pretty.”

You couldn’t help your face from lighting up, “gimme the card!”

Your mom handed you everything and you tore open the envelope. It was a simple “get well soon” card but what you were most interested in was the handwritten note. The writer’s penmanship was exquisite, not that you were particularly surprised by that fact. The card smelled like her perfume, as if she had spritzed some on. She’s unreal, you thought. Fragrant notes of orange blossom and rose filled your nostrils and it was addictive. 

The note read: Hey you, I hope you’re doing okay and aren’t too worried about getting behind on schoolwork. If you need help getting your homework done, I know a guy. Anyways, Shane got three days of suspension, which isn’t enough, imo. Text me if ur bored <3 R

She wrote her phone number at the end. You giggled and reread it in full, going as far as kicking your feet excitedly under your blankets. 

“She seems like a sweet girl,” your mom pointed out.

Her voice brought you back to reality. You cleared your throat, “mom, my head is kind of hurting, can I go back to sleep?”

“Oh yeah, of course honey! Get some rest.”

“Thank you,” you set the card down next to you and laid back down as your mom left and once she closed the door behind her, you grabbed your phone and began typing a message to Regina’s number. 

“Hey, ‘R’” you wrote. 

The message delivered and the little typing-indicator dots showed up right away, then her message back came through, “I’m glad you didn’t keep me waiting ;)” then she sent a second message, “how are you feeling?”

[Text Message Transcript: Reader: I’m feeling okay. I got a concussion like you thought, but I should be back tomorrow. Thank you for the snacks, btw. How did you know cheez-its are my fav? | Regina: My lips are sealed | Reader: You must have gone to a lot of effort to discover my favorite snacks and my home address… | Regina: It’s nothing someone with my social power can’t handle. | Reader: Well, I owe you. For this and for taking care of me yesterday. | Regina: You don’t owe a thing | Reader: Come on, you’ve gotta let me repay you somehow. | Regina: I won’t allow it | Reader: -_- | Regina: :P | seriously. don’t worry about it. | Reader: But why are you being so nice to me? | Regina: because | Reader: That isn’t an answer | Regina: must I have a reason?? | Reader: People usually do | Regina: cynical of you | I guess I feel bad. MY idiot ex gave you a concussion and was an asshole | also | I think ur cute | Reader: It’s not like you own him. | Regina: are you just gonna ignore that last part | Reader: I was getting there! how do you type so fast when you have acrylics?? | Regina: ... | i blame your concussed brain | Reader: You thought about making a dirty joke, didn't you? | Regina: no | maybe | Reader: So... you think I'm cute? | Regina: Not anymore. I take it back because you embarrassed me. | Reader: No take backsies | Regina: Well now I really take it back because that was dumb | Reader: I don't believe you! | Regina: good | you're going to have to see through my bitch act if we keep going along this path | Reader: "if we keep going along this path" meaning...? | Regina: meaning... if you let me take you out on a date | when you're all recovered of course | Reader: Like... a date date? | Regina: yeah dumbass | what other kind is there?| Reader: Sorry!! I've just... never been asked out before | Regina: okay well... I am asking you out | End of transcript]

Being stunned, you didn’t respond to Regina’s text right away. Your heart was pounding. You couldn’t believe that Regina, the queen bee of the school, the most popular girl, the previously-believed-to-be-completely-and-totally-straight-girl, was asking you out. 

Another text from her popped up, “well don’t leave me hanging”

You decided that you wanted to call her. Maybe you felt like you needed to in order to confirm that this was actually real. You called and it rang twice and then you heard her voice through the phone.

She chuckled as she spoke, “hi…”

“Hi…” you said back, suddenly forgetting what words were. 

“What did you want to say that couldn’t have been sent over text?”

“I just… you really want to date me?”

“Yes. I do. Is that really so shocking?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Well listen, I’ve had my eye on you for a while now. And, as I’m sure you are aware, I’m used to getting what I want.”

You shuddered and then replied, “Regina… I’d love to go out with you.”

The two of you continued to talk on the phone well into the night. It was Regina who insisted that you hang up and go to bed to get some good sleep before coming to school tomorrow. The blonde also offered to pick you up in the morning and drive you to school herself. You, of course, accepted. 

You went to sleep feeling lighter than air. 

In the morning, you got ready for school with more zeal than you ever had in your life. Your mother wondered out loud whether you had been replaced overnight by an entirely different person. You just smiled and said that you were happy and feeling better. 

There was a car horn honk from your driveway and your mom kissed your cheek goodbye as you left your home. 

Regina was sitting in her black Jeep, using her mirror to fix her hair. She smiled at you as you came out of your house and approached the passenger side of her car. She leaned and reached over, cracking the door open for you and then offering you her hand to hold as you stepped up into the car.

You sat down and tossed your backpack into the backseat. 

She smiled again, looking you over, “you look so cute!” Regina then gently caressed her thumb over the bruise on your forehead from the basketball, “and this is looking much better.”

You looked her up and down as well and smiled, “you look incredible…”

“Thanks, baby.” 

She had called you ‘baby’ on the phone the night before as well. The affection made your heart flutter.

She continued, “get buckled, let’s go.”

Regina drove you both to school and parked in her spot in the student lot. It wasn’t an assigned parking spot or anything, it was just the closest spot to her preferred entrance and it was hers by way of having scolded anyone who had ever dared to park there.

When you got out of the car, Regina walked over to you and took your hand in hers. 

Surprised, you said, “you know, we haven’t actually gone out yet…”

“I know that. Do you mind if I hold your hand anyway? Do I have to wait before I can show you off?”

“I don’t mind,” you smiled. 

Regina walked you into the school and immediately, all eyes were on the two of you. You half expected Regina to drop your hand but she didn’t. You glanced over at her and she was proud. Beaming even. 

She squeezed your hand a little tighter and looked at you, “you okay?”

You nodded your head, “I am.”

Regina went with you to your locker and leaned against the adjacent locker while you put your backpack away. Then Regina noticed that you had a small magnetic mirror in your locker and she came up behind you and wrapped her arms around you from behind and looked into the mirror.

“We look good together, don’t we?”

You looked at the image in the mirror and thought she was right. With her bright blonde locks draped over your shoulders, her manicured fingers touching your neck, her cheek pressed against yours, it was a dream come true. 

“It’s way too easy for me to get lost in you…”

“I feel the same way, baby.”

At that point, Gretchen and Karen approached, locating Regina as if they had a homing beacon to her. Gretchen flashed you a polite smile and said, “you look mostly recovered!”

Karen stared at you with wide eyes and said, “don’t worry, I’ve been knocked out by a basketball too! It happens to everyone.”

You thought about objecting to her statement in some way but then you just nodded. 

Regina grabbed your hand again and touched your cheek, turning you to face her, “you’ll sit with us at lunch, right?”

“Oh sure! If you want me to…”

“Of course, silly! Well, you know where to find me, then. I’ll see you later.” Regina pulled you into a hug and squeezed you tightly against her chest. And for the first time in your life, you felt genuinely wanted.

The next two days went by fast. Regina took over driving you to and from school and your mom thanked her profusely for giving her a break. You joined Regina, Gretchen and Karen for lunch, sometimes you were also joined by Cady, Janis and Damien, now that things had gotten less tense between those two trios in the aftermath of the junior year dramatics. 

Regina was extremely attentive to you. You naturally fell into habits of taking care of each other, Regina looking out for you as you continued to recover from your concussion, and you paying attention to her chronic pain flare ups and making sure she was monitoring her POTS symptoms. 

You and Regina agreed to go on your first official date together that weekend, but she certainly was not hesitating to claim you as hers in the meantime. In those 48 hours, there was already an instagram and twitter account dedicated to shipping the two of you and you overheard a lot of talk about your sudden closeness and Regina’s obvious protection over you. 

It all came to a head the day that Shane Oman was back at school.

At lunch, Regina showed up to the table a few minutes later than what was typical for her, and she was dragging Shane by his shirtsleeve until she shoved him right in front of you. 

You set your lunch down and looked at him, then Regina, who shoved him again and said, “well, go ahead.”

Shane rolled his eyes, “fine… I’m sorry…”

Regina’s arms were crossed but she smirked a little, clearly proud of herself. 

“Sorry that you’re a disgusting fucking carpetmuncher!” Shane finished, yelling loud enough for the entire cafeteria to hear and immediately cease their conversations, turning all of their attention to your table. 

Gretchen covered her own mouth in shock. Janis and Damien's jaws both dropped open. Karen was staring at something on the ceiling. Cady whispered “oh my gosh” under her breath. 

You just froze and stared. 

Regina lurched forward and gripped the back of Shane’s shirt collar, pulling him backwards by it in a swift motion and basically choking him with the fabric, “what the fuck did you just say?” she growled.

Shane coughed, “I… I… said… carpetmuncher… and I’m not sorry… and I don’t believe for one second… that you’re falling for this… this… dyke!”

“Oh? You don’t?” Regina pushed Shane down to the ground and he collapsed to his knees and rubbed his neck as Regina let him go. Regina walked over to you and took your face in her hands. One second, her face was red with fury, but when she looked down at you, she immediately softened. She pulled you close to her and then pressed her lips to yours.

It wasn’t how you imagined how your first kiss with Regina would have gone, but you wouldn’t have changed anything about it. 

She kissed you so tenderly. Your senses were completely overwhelmed by the softness of her lips, the taste of her lip gloss, the smell of her hair, the feel of her tongue just teasing your bottom lip. Regina held the kiss for a long time and you held her waist. 

You knew everyone’s eyes (and cameras) were on you, but you couldn’t have cared less. You had Regina, and that’s all that mattered. 

When Regina pulled away, she kept eye contact with you for a moment and smiled, assuring you that she kissed you because she wanted to, not just to prove a point. She came back to give you one more quick and gentle kiss before returning her attention to the pathetic man on the ground. 

“Next time you want to say anything derogatory to my baby here, you better be fucking prepared to say it to me, too, Shane. And I don’t think I need to spell out the absolute shithole you will find yourself in if you do that.” 

Shane stared at her with wide, terrified, eyes.

“Now get the fuck out of my sight.” Regina added. 

Shane scrambled to his feet and sprinted out of the cafeteria as Regina took her seat next to you with closed eyes and exhaled a breath through her nose to calm herself.

You leaned your head on her shoulder and whispered, “thank you, Gina.”

She turned her head and kissed your temple, “of course, baby.”