#can you tell that im running out of labels?

[sapphic-luthor]

i am really on the verge of identifying as a lesbian because i feel like that label really does fit me but what’s confusing me is that there is one fictional tv show character who’s a man who is probably the only man i’ll ever Like but it does really confuse me as to why i feel like i may find him attractive but never any man irl

would just like to generally casually direct you to the lesbian masterdoc just in case you were looking for a bit of a read this lovely friday eve

[rafeandonlyrafe]

general store

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only!, p in v sex, protected sex (for once! yaaay!), spanking (briefly), semi public sex, pogue!reader, reader is described as being 20, readers parents are dead, rafe being a playboy, hurricane aftermath

“dad, im not helping out at some fucking pogue shop!” rafe argues, yet his footsteps still follow ward towards the garage.

“everyone is doing their part, rafe.” ward sighs. “even wheezie is volunteering after the hurricane. come on, now.” 

wards tone silences rafe. it's the tone he uses when there's no way rafe is getting out of something. rafe gets into the passenger seat, grumbling to himself until his dad rounds the car.

“and you're going to be nice. it's a bad fucking look for our family not to go to the cut and assist.” rafe knows ward doesn't actually give a shit about helping anyone. it's all about their reputation, the camerons have to be the stewards of the island, the aspirational story of pogue turned king kook.

“alright, ill be helpful. promise.” rafe can put in one day of work. that's not what he minds. it's having to help pogues clean up their shit that's worthless to him.

“it's some general store. got pretty wrecked, but no structural damage.” ward explains coldly, talking about the damage suffered like it's something on television, not real life people.

despite wards warning, rafe let's out a low curse when the car pulls to a stop. it's in the rough part of what little area they call downtown, and he can tell just through the single unboarded window that the shop is a disaster.

he gives his dad one last pleading look before getting out.

“oh hey there!” you smile as rafe enters, the bell above the door ringing. “you must be rafe, im y/n.” you stick your hand out for him to shake. rafe does so slowly, eyes scanning over the shop before landing on you.

“how old are you?” rafe questions. he expected someone at least mid thirties.

“oh… im uh, 20. this is-was my parents store.” rafe sees the pain flash through your eyes and decides not to question it any further.

“so, what's first?” the shelves are practically empty, with everything on the floor.

“the hurricane door burst open and swept everything off the shelves.” you sigh, rubbing your hand over your forehead. you've clearly already been working, forehead slightly sheened with sweat, cheeks flushed. “im just focused on getting everything back on the shelves for now. throw out anything damaged but if it's food, we should try and salvage it.”

“what for?” he questions. you clearly have plenty, and rafe can see that only a couple cans are broken.

“the ones who had more issues than just a door blown in.” you state like it's obvious.

“shit, yeah.” rafe nods. you turn back towards your store, beginning to clean as rafe does the same, reading the labels on the shelves and then trying to sift through the mess to put everything back.

you work silently, rafe occasionally looking over to you, his eyes roaming down your body whenever you're turned away.

“so you run this place?” he questions after a while, taking a sip of a water you brought out for him.

“run it, work it, live above it.” you nod. 

“that's a lot for someone whose barely out of their teens.” rafe huffs out, barely out of his teens himself, only a few years older than you.

“some of us didn't have life handed to us on a golden platter.” you spit out, before shaking your head. “im sorry. you're here helping, its just… hard.”

“it's alright.” rafe waves it off, especially as you pull off your outer layer to reveal just a white tanktop, your light blue bra poking out the top. rafe fights the urge to pull the strap back and hear it snap against your skin.

“back to work.” you hum, looking at the clock. you were told rafe could help out until 6pm, and there's a couple jobs you need two hands for.

--

“thanks for helping out today.” you tell rafe, looking at the shop. it's mostly cleaned up, there's some additional deep cleaning you'll have to do, but it's in an acceptable state now to open tomorrow and allow the residents of the outer banks to buy cleaning supplies and food.

rafes eyes shift to the door, and then back to you. he moves quickly before he can think, before giving you a chance to react, one hand around your back tugging you close to him, the other squeezing your breast, his lips devouring yours in a hard kiss.

“w-wait-” you mutter, pushing rafe away slightly. “lock the door.”

rafe smirks, moving to turn the key, locking the door and anyone from entering the store, even though the sign was flipped to close.

rafe moves back towards you, pressing you back into the counter, lips teasing yours as his hands run over your body.

“th-the window.” you mutter. the sky was beginning to darken outside, and with all the shop lights on, it would soon turn into a glowing beckon in the dark for anyone to look into.

“sorry.” rafe just mumbles. he doesn't care about someone seeing you, not when he's been tempted by your tight tanktop and fitted leggings all day long. besides, rafe feels as if he needs a better thank you for helping you out.

rafe tugs your tanktop up, your chest moving up and down as your bra is revealed, just as good as rafe was imagining it, your tits almost spilling out, which rafe quickly works to get them all the way out, harshly tugging the cups down.

“we can go upstairs.” you whine out, even as your hands disappear under rafes shirt, feeling his muscles.

“nah, want you right here.” rafe has no interest in going up to your apartment or taking you in a proper bed as he turns you suddenly, flipping so you're facing the counter.

he pushes your shoulders forward, bare tits suddenly against the cold glass, making you cry out.

“gentle, please.” you whimper as rafe tears your leggings down along with your underwear, smiling when he spreads your legs to see your pussy is dripping wet.

“yeah, will be.” rafe reaches over to the shelves, grabbing a condom and opening it, glad that you had them in stock. no way he's risking getting a pogue pregnant, even if he does want you desperately.

rafe undoes his pants, only pushing them down his thighs enough to get his cock out. he's only half hard, so he leans forward, bending over your back as he rubs his cock over your ass until he's ready, slipping the condom quickly over his length.

“bet you're tight, huh?” he smirks, pressing against your hole. while rafe favors kooks, he isn't against fucking a hot pogue or touron on the occasion.

“fuck me and see.” you grunt out, glancing out the window, hoping to get this over with before the sun fully sets in the sky.

rafe pushes in suddenly with a moan as you grip onto the edge of the counter as rafe slams forward, your body pushing against the glass with every thrust, briefly worrying it will break with his intensity.

“fuck.” rafe gasps out, one hand wrapping around your hips to press down on your lower stomach, keeping you pulled close to him while the other hand gropes and plays with your ass, occasionally spanking the plump flesh.

“yeah, that's it baby.” rafe moans when your cunt clenches around him, his hand moving towards your clit to reward you for how tight you are squeezing him, finger stroking over your pussy.

“god, that's good.” you moan out. rafes fingertip is rough from the days work as he pushes his hips forward, big cock plunging into you.

“you like this kook cock, huh?” he smirks, listening to your moans, not able to hold them back any longer. he wonders if your neighbors can hear you being such a slut for him.

“y-yeah.” you nod, no point in denying it as your entire body shakes.

“gonna have to start buying my condoms from here.” rafe chuckles, looking around the store. it's not so bad now that it's cleaned up. “and using the first one on you.”

he rarely gets the urge to fuck anyone twice, but you're so tight around him, so willing as you start to push back to meet his thrusts, a loud slapping sound vibrating every time your skin comes together.

“close.” you warn, rafes finger moving faster, wanting to feel you clench around him, needing you to cum to get himself there.

your hard nipples slide over the cold glass, rafe rubbing your clit just right as his cock pushes in, your loud moan signaling your orgasm as you pussy pulses around rafes cock. he shoves his dick as far as your cunt lets him as he cums into the condom with a grunt.

you're both breathing heavily as rafe pulls out, tossing the condom in the overfilled trash can as he redoes his pants.

“come on, my dad will be by to pick me up soon.” rafe swats your bare ass, still on display as you slump over the counter.

your legs are shaking as you redress, just in time for rafe to unlock the door and let his father in.

“i hope my son was helpful?” he questions, looking around the store with an expression of approval.

“oh yes.” you nod, still slightly out of breath. “he was great.”

ward nods, saying goodbye to you before signaling rafe to follow him, who makes sure to turn back and give you a wink before leaving.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra

[r3ynah]

I just like the idea of Red hood having a medic, that always finds him whenever and wherever.

Like my boy danny, can and will go to different measures, so he can just find the boss of the crime alley alive and well.

Getting hurt? No you aren't, patched him up and forcefully tucked him into bed with a kiss, Getting depressed? No you aren't, Wrapped him in a blanket and just let him read his novels all day and feeding him, Getting kidnap? No you aren't, Cue the corrupted video of Danny breaking in the kidnapper's lair and just freeing Red hood, No blood was shed that night, well not from Red hood that is.

Danny was something else Red hood will tell you if you ever bring up his Medic into a conversation, he would stare at the man with heart eyes as he accompanied him to do random check ups on people under Red hood's care in his civilian persona. Danny may seem weak and brittle but he can give a punch if he really wanted to, He was mysterious but at the same time so open.

Danny was prideful as he wore the medal of being the only one that knows Red hood's real apartment, and the only one that could break in and enter without getting his presence known, just to make sure the crime lord was sleeping and eating properly.

Red hood practically made a joke out of this and would always tell everyone that his medic will be mad, if he isn't in bed by curfew, and he needed to be back at his house by 10:00 sharp or he'll get dragged and thrown, who knew the all so scary crime lord had a bedtime, criminals and civilians often leave him be when the clock strikes 9:50 pm afraid of enraging the meta medic.

__

"I am telling you B, I can't do that right now, its almost my curfew." Red hood sighed in frustration, he was currently standing in the middle of the bat cave, ready to run if batman tried to talk again.

"This is an important, case Hood, and it requires your participation" Batman stood still, face devoid of any emotions " Afterall it has something to do, with crime alley, there has been a meta spotted, and its creating havoc all around the place."

Jason, blinked, blinked twice, then thrice

"Is that it?"

"Jason, can't you see that this person's dangerous, they had already committed several crimes of arson, assault, and destruction of property, this person is abusing it's powers."

"No im not." An offended voice, called out from the side. all head turned towards the source of the voice, only to be greeted by 6'1 tall boy, who had black hair and blue eyes, and looked just round in his younger adult years. "In my defense they deserved it, won't give me a discount when i literally had a coupon." he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Who are you?" Batman asked, his guard up "And how did you get in here?"

"Red hood's medic and the meta you've labeling as dangerous, nice to meet you, and it wasn't that hard to spot this lair if you have x-ray vision" Danny greeted happily offering a handshake, which the dark knight didn't take, Danny retreated his hand in awkward silence.

"That was so sad" Jason cackled, as he pointed at Danny who gave him the middle finger.

"Shut, Its 10:30 pm, your bedtime was like 15 minutes ago, you don't get to talk until you're taller than me." Danny pointed at him.

"Fucking funny, im laughing" Sarcasm was laced in Jason's tone as he glared at Danny, before giving a sigh. "10:30 already shit, time does fly fast, when you're fighting a man in a furry costume" Red hood stated, as he walked towards Danny who only rolled his eyes.

"Bye B, i hope to not see you anytime this week or the next week." He nonchalantly waved bye to the older male, while walking towards his medic.

he turned his head to meet Danny's gaze, then smacked his arm making the man stumble. "Come on, now boss man do your thing"

Danny gave him, a glare before shoving him playfully, he then turned to look at empty air and practically ripped out a dimensional portal out of it, and pushed Jason in it who tripped.

"Bye Mr.Batman, it was nice meeting you" Danny bid farewell as he closed the portal on the Man who looked like he can use a break.

[watchmegetobsessed]

MISTAKEN HATRED

A/N: okay im veeery nervous about this one bc its the longest story i've written in probably months and it took me sooo long to finish it so im just praying its not utter shit 🙃 anywaysss, happy holidays guys! it's not overly festive, but it has some vibes so im labeling it as my xmas fic haha feedback is always appreciated! 🎄

WORD COUNT: 6.3k

SUMMARY: Things don't go as smooth as you planned with your bakery's opening, but you're doing your best to overcome the struggles. However there is one person who is hating on your business as if it was his job: Harry Styles. You just wish you knew what you did to earn his hatred...

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

This is not how you imagined the last weeks before your official opening. 

You imagined the interrior to be fully done by now so you can focus on the last touches, ordering the right ingredients and promoting the opening.

Instead, you’re staring at what’s supposed to be your eight tables, intact and put together but it’s all in pieces. You specifically remember the website said they would deliver them done and you wouldn’t have to play puzzles. But they arrived six days late and very much not the way they promised. 

Taking a deep breath you stare up at the ceiling and decide to take the trash out before turning your bakery into Ikea.

“It’s alright. I can do this. I can do anything,” you keep telling yourself as you drag out the trash bags that are almost the size of you. 

You knew opening your own business would be tough. Especially in Eroda, the little town you have some of your earliest memories from, where your grandma used to live, the place that was closest to her heart and it breaks yours to know she couldn’t spend her last years here because she was too sick to live on her own. 

She never asked you to come back here, but the moment you found her recipe books the summer after she passed, you just knew what you had to do. Now it’s been three years and you’re finally opening Nana’s that will bring her warmth and love back to Eroda, or you hope so. 

Pushing the door open with your shoulder, you keep dragging the bags to the containers behind the small shop and you’re so deep in your thoughts you don’t even notice the two people just a couple of feet away.

“Hi, Love!”

You recognize Anne’s sweet, chirpy voice and a smile spreads across your face even before you look up, but the moment you see the person standing next to her, all joy just drains from your body. 

Harry Styles is standing as grouchy and arrogant as always next to his mother, hands hidden in the pockets of his fleece jacket, his unruly curls are tucked underneath his beanie and any normal woman would be into the man, but you. Not after he very clearly let you know you don’t belong here and you should take your business back to the city where you came from. 

You expected some resistance, not much has changed in town in the past decades and you had a feeling some might want to keep it that way, but you guessed older people would riot against your bakery, not a thirty years old grown man. 

“Hi Anne,” you smile back and mustering up all your strength you throw one of the bags into the bin, but you overestimated your muscle work, because it only falls to the edge and almost topples right out. Luckily, you grab it just in time and push it in.

“Oh, dear, those bags are bigger than you! Harry, help her!” 

“No, it’s alri–” 

Before you get to protest, Harry strides over to you and grabs the remaining two bags as if they weighed nothing and throws them into the bin without breaking a sweat. 

Of course he is fit, the man probably runs up the hill carrying twice his weight every morning, because that’s how you can imagine him working out. 

Though you shouldn’t be imagining anything about him.

“Thanks,” you purse your lips and square your shoulders as you face the two of them.

“How is everything coming together?”

Anne has been so enthusiastic about your bakery, she comes around probably every other day, checks in on your progress and always offers her help. 

“Um, it is… okay, I guess,” you let out a tired chuckle. Glancing over at Harry you see him looking to the side, as if he wasn’t even listening, but something is telling you he is very much focused on the conversation.

Yeah, that’s right, I’m still here! Not even your arrogance can chase me away!

Anne cranes her neck, peeking into the shop and she spots the pile in the middle.

“Oh, are you planning to put those together by yourself? Harry, why don’t you help her?”

The moment she suggests, you both protest.

“No, there’s no need.”

“Mum, I don’t really have the time,” he says at the same time, but it doesn’t seem to go through. Anne’s phone starts ringing and she excuses herself, leaving the two of you there. 

Great, this is all you were missing today, an awkward, forced situation with the man who wants to see you gone. Perfect.

“Should’ve ordered them done, don’t you think?” he speaks up, nodding towards the shop.

At first, you just blink at him, then close your eyes and when you open them, you have the fakest smile on your twitching face.

“What a wonderful idea! I totally did not think of that!”

“Then send them back and ask them to bring what you ordered.” He rolls his eyes and it’s irking you so much. You definitely don’t need his stupid advices, not when you’re terribly behind your schedule.

“They arrived almost a week later than they should have, if I send them back there’s now ay they will send me the new ones in time for the opening.”

Harry stands there, staring at the pile of furniture pieces inside and for a moment you think he might actually offer his help, which you’re not sure you’d have accepted, but it remains a mystery, because that’s not what he says when he speaks up.

“I’m busy for real. Mum likes to offer my help around without asking me.”

It takes you a couple of moments to figure out what you feel about what he just said. And when you finally do, you see red.

“As I said, I don’t need help. I did everything by myself and I will get this done as well. I don’t need your unwanted, half-assed effort to pretend like you’re helping me.”

You come off rougher than you probably should have, but he’s been bugging you ever since you moved to Eroda. The man knows nothing about you or your business, yet every time he comes near your shop he acts like it physically pains him to even look at it. He’d be the last person you’d ask for help, he doesn’t have to act like he has so much to do and doesn’t have the time to help when he doesn’t actually want to help. 

Harry stares at you with such intensity you almost break and stutter a sorry out, but that’s when Anne returns.

“Ah, we have to run. But I will come by tomorrow, Darling. And Harry can hel–”

“No need for help,” you smile at her as gratefully as you can force yourself to be in this moment. 

“Alright, then see you later,” she waves and you nod at her before your eyes meet Harry’s one last time before they walk away and you return to your shop. 

It takes you six hours to assemble the tables later that day, but you do it.

With no help. 

Moving to Eroda, it hasn’t been your only goal to have your business become part of the town but you also knew you’d have to become one of the locals as well. Only a handful of people know who your grandmother was and you don’t plan to reveal it until the opening. You want them to taste all the baked goods and think of her first and then put the picture together. But this means you’re a total newbie for most people around. Last time you spent more than just a day here was when you were sixteen and you’ve changed a lot since then, so it’s natural people don’t recognize you. 

Anne has been your biggest help in breaking the ice and involving you in as many things as possible so you get to meet the people of Eroda. The weeks leading up to Christmas are usually filled with all kinds of winter activities locals enjoy wholeheartedly. Concert by the town hall, decorating the trees at the main square, collecting donations and cooking for those in need for example. You’ve been to all of these and very much enjoyed being part of the community. This weekend however, you can’t say you’re looking forward to the new festive activity.

Ice-skating on the frozen lake.

It sounds nice and fun, but you’ve ice-skated only once in your life and ended up breaking your wrist. Not your favorite childhood memory for sure and you don’t exactly want to relive it as an adult. 

You arrive with the intention of just sipping some hot tea and watch everyone else skate around until your fingers are falling off and you can go back to the shop to finish putting up the tinker lights at the back. 

Anne however had different ideas about today. Because as soon as you arrive at the lake, she is waving at you, holding up a pair of skates and you know they are not hers, because she’s already wearing those. 

“Kick those boots off, Love, I brought you my old skates! Come join us!” She smiles brightly at you from next to the pier where people get on and off the ice. 

“Oh, no, I don’t skate, Anne, but thank you!”

“Don’t be silly, even Bernie is on the ice!” She nods towards the old man who must be at least eighty, sliding on the ice as if he did this all his life. He might have, you have no idea.

“It’s really not for me, I–”

“Just try it! Come on!” 

She drops the skates by your feet and then slides away, leaving you no chance to protest.

Staring down at the skates, you can feel your stomach churning, but as you look up you see that literally everyone is on the ice, you’d look weird standing on the pier on your own. 

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you give in and sitting down you start peeling your boots off your feet. 

“You’ll break your ankle if you leave it that loose.”

You know the voice and it just adds to your stress even more. You see his black skates in front of you as you’re trying to lace your own up.

“Hi Harry, so good to see you again,” you hiss through your teeth. 

“Tighten it or you’ll fall.”

“I’ll fall either way,” you mumble as you go back and pull the laces tighter. When you’re done you straighten up, but remain sitting on the end of the pier, anxiously string down at your feet. Harry doesn’t speak, but you know he is still there, probably watching you, trying to figure out what’s wrong with you, why you’re not just standing up and going at it like everyone else. 

Your hands are holding onto the wood underneath you for dear life as you picture yourself finally moving, but you never get to actually acting. 

“Do you need help standing up?” Harry speaks up at last and his voice is different this time. It’s not as arrogant, maybe even concerned. Do you look that awful right now?

“N-No.” Your voice cracks and you hate that it’s him who sees you like this. 

“Doesn’t seem like–”

“Would you stop being an asshole for a moment?” you snap at him and finally look up, eyes meeting his examining gaze. You have no idea what he sees in yours, but a few seconds later he breaks eye-contact, looks around as if he is hesitating before he sits beside you at last.

“You don’t have to skate if you don’t want to.”

“Tell that to your mother,” you mumble under your breath and it makes him laugh.

The sound of it is actually nice, surprising, but nice to hear something other than insults coming from his mouth.

“She can be a bit too much, but she’s just too enthusiastic.” You sit in silence for a bit before Harry turns to you. “You really don’t have to skate.”

“I want to take part, I just… I broke my wrist on the ice once when I was a kid and I haven’t tried skating since then.”

You didn’t plan on telling him much, but you felt like you had to explain why you’re being so dramatic. Part of you is expecting him to make fun of you for being scared of skating because of something that happened ages ago, but the arrogant comments never come.

Instead he stands up and when you look up at him he is holding a hand out to you.

“I’ll help you. You won’t fall.”

Any other day you’d think he is plotting against you, that he would get you to trust him and the trip you the first chance he got, but not this time. He looks and sounds genuine and as you take his hand, you put way too much trust into them than you would have ever allowed yourself to. 

You hold onto him with both hands and he keeps you steady as you finally attempt to push yourself up from the edge of the pier. Your knees wobble the moment your weight is on the blades and you instantly feel yourself losing balance, but Harry’s hands wrap around your arms and keep you from falling.

“It’s okay. Relax a bit, you’ll find your balance.” He encourages you and it’s almost strange to hear him so supportive of anything you’re doing, but not breaking your neck keeps you too busy to care about his random act of kindness. 

“Try to move forward.”

“I can’t,” you protest without even trying.

“You can, just relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax, it’s not gonna help me relax!”

“Y/N, you’re gonna have a panic attack if you don’t relax,” he warns you and you realize how fast you’re breathing and all your blood is being pumped into your head. 

“I-I can’t, I can’t do this, I–”

“Y/N, look at me!” His hands snap to your shoulders and you grab onto his biceps as you look him in the eyes while your chest is still heaving. “I’ve got you, okay? You’re not going to fall. I’m holding you, I promise.”

Focusing on his words you finally forget about your fears and instead, you’re now trying to figure out where this version of Harry came from and why he hid from you all along. 

You’re not one to trust people that easily, but just from this one promise he made, you let go of all your doubts and hesitation. 

“Okay,” you breathe out. Harry nods and his hands slowly slide lower until they rest on your waist. 

“You knew how to skate, right? Before you broke your wrist.” You nod. “Alright, then it will all come back quickly.”

There’s a tiny smile hiding in the corners of his lips and your heart pitter-patters in your chest, but not because of the skating this time. His hands on you are not helping either, because for some reason, you feel heat radiating through the millions of layers you’re wearing where his hands are touching you. 

What is happening?

“Okay, I’ll hold your hand and you just focus on moving forward, yeah?”

You nod and panic rises in your gut for a moment when his hands leave your shoulders, but then they instantly take your hands and you feel safe again. 

Slowly you start moving, inching forward, your hands gripping Harry’s so tight, you’re afraid you might hurt him, but you’d never let go of him, not when you’re getting farther away from the pier. 

“That’s it, you are doing great,” he encourages. “Try to move a bit less rigidly.”

“Easy to say that,” you breathe out shakily. 

It takes time to loosen up even the tiniest bit and not grip Harry’s hand as if you wanted to crush his bones. But as you slowly move around the ice, led by him, you finally get more and more familiar with the feeling of sliding on the ice. 

“See? It’s not that bad,” he smiles when you stop for a short break after circling back to the pier. 

“I still fear for my life, but it’s bearable now,” you nod and he just chuckles.

It looks good on him. His smile is warm and welcoming, it’s a shame it took you so long to see it. You definitely prefer this version of him. 

“Honey, it’s so lovely to see you on the ice!” Anne slides over to you with ease, holding a cup of something warm, probably hot chocolate. 

“Well, it’s not quite my element,” you let out an awkward chuckle.

“You’re doing just fine. Besides, you just snatched up the best skater in town.” Winking, she bumps her hip against Harry’s. Your puzzled look urges her to elaborate. “Harry took over coaching the boys’ hockey team last year, the kids adore him!”

Instantly, you imagine Harry dealing with a bunch of cute kids, cheering on them, teaching them, making them laugh… The image is actually moving something inside you that’s been buried somewhere deep for a while now.

“Y/N, how are things coming together? Everyone is buzzing for the big opening!” Anne does a little dance that makes you laugh, but at the same time, something changes in Harry. 

“Um, it’s going okay. Not how I planned, but I’ll manage.”

“I’m sure everything will fall into place perfectly. And if you need any help just let us know!” She turns to Harry, looking for validation that he is open to lending you a helping hand as well, but his reaction is not quite what she was expecting, probably. 

“Sorry, I gotta go now,” Harry mumbles quickly, his gaze obviously avoiding you or his mother and he skates away so fast you just blink after him. 

“What’s gotten into this boy?” Anne huffs, but she lets go of it fast, starts chatting about something you don’t quite catch, because you just stare after Harry, watching him slalom between the skaters so fast it’s almost aggressive. 

And once again, you feel like you’re back where you began. He hates you and you have no idea what you did against him. 

Theoretically, opening Nana’s two weeks before Christmas was a great idea, because you imagined all the baked goods people would order for the holidays, you knew it would be a great kick start.

Realistically, it means that now you have to do the last touch ups in the harsh winter that’s as cold as the North Pole. Or at least that’s how you imagine the North Pole.

It’s been non stop snowing for the past three days, the fresh, soft looking snow is now covering every bit of Eroda’s breathtaking view and though it’s very festive and nice to look at it from a warm room with something hot to drink, it’s not as relaxing when you’re still working on the bakery, doing the last bits of decorating and starting the first batches of baked goods, because in 24 hours, Nana’s is officially opening its front door to the public. 

You’ve been here since five in the morning, now it’s four in the afternoon but it’s almost entirely pitch dark outside so it feels like it’s nearing ten. The place is not a mess anymore, but the kitchen is, there’s all kinds of dough everywhere, you’re doing everything you can now so there’s less tomorrow, but even with all the work tonight you’ll be here at five in the morning again tomorrow. 

It’s been hours since the last time you looked out the window, so it fully goes over your head how heavy the snowfall has gotten lately, chasing home every soul from the streets. While you’re covered in flour and keep muttering Nana’s recipes to make sure everything is measured right, there is one more person out there who is still not home, battling the weather. 

Harry has been going around town all day, helping out the elderly with either delivering groceries, or repairing the heating, whatever they needed a helping hand with. He’s usually the person one calls in Eroda when something needs to be fixed.

The roads are now not quite safe to be driving around, but with his jeep he’ll be able to get home just before it gets too bad. Or so the thought, but that is until he drives by the bakery and sees the lights on.

At first he keeps driving, telling himself it’s not his business. But the farther he gets the guiltier he feels and then he turns the car around.

You’re too busy to hear the knocking at first, but then you hear it again and know it wasn’t just in your head. Rushing out of the kitchen you stop in front of the door, because through the glass you make out Harry standing there, the snow already covering the top of his head as if he’s been out there for hours. 

“It’s freezing out here, Y/N! Would be nice if you let me in!” he shouts through the glass and you finally snap out of your surprise, unlock the door and Harry practically runs inside. 

“What are you doing here?” You watch him shake the snow off of him and finally turn towards you. For a moment you forget about how you parted ways at the skating, how cold he turned out of the blue after helping you. 

“Funny, I wanted to ask you the same thing. There’s a snowstorm out there, you won’t be able to get home if you stay here!”

“Are you kidding me? I’m opening tomorrow, I have a million things to finish!”

“So you’re risking getting snowed in? Were you planning to sleep here or something?”

“Maybe! Yeah! I need to get a ton of dough ready and I still haven’t put up the tinker lights and I need to clean up…”

Harry stares at you with such a vivid look, you expect him to start screaming at you or something. But he just keeps staring until he finally breaks.

“Okay, where are the lights and where do you want them?”

“What?”

“You’ll spend the night here if you do everything alone. I’ll help and hopefully we’ll be able to leave when it’s all done.”

Now it’s your turn to stare at him as he is looking around, searching for the lights to start working, but you can’t really believe he is about to help you out when he could be home by now. On the other hand, you could really use the help and maybe finish earlier than midnight, so after pushing your surprise to the side you start instructing him. While Harry works on the lights, you return to the kitchen. 

To test out the dough for the croissants, the one thing you’re the most nervous about because it used to be Nana’s specialty, you decide to make a few and pop them in the oven while you do everything else. 

It’s hard to believe you’re finally at this point, so close to the opening, turning your biggest dream into reality. You wish Nana would be here with you today.

“Lights are done.”

Harry interrupts your thoughts and you wipe your floury hands into your apron before following him out of the kitchen to see the work he did.

“Oh my God, this looks perfect!” you gasp, seeing all the tinker lights run along the ceiling and walls, lighting up the place like magic. 

Harry just nods, pressing his lips together, as if it was nothing. 

“Anything else?” he asks.

“Yeah, I have a few pictures I want to hang up and then it’s all done–” The timer in the kitchen goes off, letting you know the croissants are done. “Let me take them out and then I’ll show you where I want them.”

You rush back to the kitchen and take the fresh, steaming croissants out of the oven, completely missing that Harry has followed you and he is now watching you curiously as you take the baked goods off the tray one by one.

“That smells like…” he speaks up, but the words die on his tongue and you just smile, placing one onto a plate, holding it out for him.

“Here, try it.”

He hesitates, but takes the plate at last. Though it’s still hot and he should definitely wait a bit, it’s hard to resist, you know that. You watch him take a tentative bite and wait for his reaction as if he is about to tell you your future. 

“So? How is it?”

“It’s… it’s really… good. Really good.”

It’s obvious he is having a hard time admitting you did something right, but his face says it all. You just don’t understand why he looks kind of puzzled, but you think it’s just because he didn’t expect it to be this good. 

“I bet the croissants will be the bestsellers,” you chuckle as Harry takes bite after bite until it’s all gone. He devoured it so fast it’s incredible. You couldn’t help but focus on his pink lips while he ate and those tiny sounds he let slip… they surely planted some thoughts into your head, thoughts you shouldn’t be thinking of when it comes to Harry.

“Come on, I’ll show you the pictures.” It’s your attempt to clear your mind.

You walk out and grab the box that holds all the framed pictures you want to hang on the walls, of course, all of them feature Nana. 

“Okay, so I thought a few could go over here, and then on that wall as well, and these, I want them behind the counter…” You start explaining your vision, but when you turn around you see that he is staring at a photo in shock. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

You step closer and see that it’s the photo that was taken on your tenth birthday. You’re holding up one of the cupcakes Nana made just for you and she is standing behind you, with her hands on your shoulders. It’s a fond memory, one of your favorite birthdays you ever had. 

“Oh, is it the dungarees?” you ask, pointing at your outfit. “I wasn’t quite the fashion icon back then,” you chuckle.

“No, it’s– who’s this?” he asks, pointing at Nana. You give him a puzzled look, because it’s not rocket science to figure out who the woman in the picture is.

“That’s Nana, obviously.”

“But as in… your grandma?” He finally looks up at you and his face is frantic, as if he is solving a lifelong mystery. 

“Of course, Harry, what is goin–”

“Y/N, Nana was your grandma?”

“Yes!” you laugh in confusion. “Of course she was, that’s why I’m opening a bakery under her name with all her recipes she taught me!”

You can’t read the look on Harry’s face as he puts the photo back into the box and then starts walking around with his hands on his hips. 

“Why do you look like you just learned you were adopted or something?”

“Y/N, I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“That you’re… Nana’s granddaughter. I had no clue.” He runs a hand through his hair and you try your best not to stare at how his bicep flexes in the movement. 

“What? Harry, why else would I be opening a bakery, named Nana’s right here, out of every possible place on Earth?”

“I don’t know!” he admits, throwing his hands into the air. “That’s why I… Okay, this is why I hated the idea so much. Because I knew Nana, I loved her! She was like… my grandma too! And I thought you just chose this name for fun!”

“Are you kidding me?” you huff in disbelief.

“I felt like you were ruining her memory, that’s why I was so against this place. I had zero clue that you are actually… related to her.”

“Oh my God, Harry!” There’s nothing else you can do other than just… laughing. This whole situation feels oddly comical, like something that only happens in movies. 

“I know, I’m sorry!” He exhales sharply and you truly see the regret on his face. “I was such a dick.”

“Yes you were!” you laugh in agreement. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Well, now at least I know why you were my biggest hater all along.”

“Not anymore!” He holds up his hands and finally breaks a smile that looks so fucking handsome, it makes you forget about everything in a second. 

Turning to the side he stares out the window for a moment before looking back at you.

“The snowing has stopped, let’s wrap things up and go home, alright? Big day tomorrow.”

You both go back to work, Harry finishes quite fast with the pictures so then he helps you clean up in the kitchen and you notice how obviously different the vibes are now. There’s no trace of his usual hostile behavior, in fact he is so open as he asks you about Nana and how the idea of the bakery came. Then he tells you about her as well, how he has known him for so long and after the passing of his stepdad Nana helped him through the toughest time of his life. You’re surprised the two of you never met when you were visiting, but you believe in faith and it must be because it wasn’t the right time. 

It’s almost ten by the time you’re locking up while Harry is scraping the snow off his jeep. It’s rather eerie to see the town so empty, but it’s also pretty, the untouched snow covering every inch of the scenery. 

“Thanks for the help. And the drive home,” you say when he has parked in front of your house. 

“I’ll pick you up in the morning as well.”

“What? There’s no need, Harry–”

“Just accept the help,” he flashes you a crooked smile. “I have a lot to make up for.”

“What if I say you’re forgiven?”

“Then I’ll do it because I want to spend time with you.”

His answer comes so fast and honest, you can’t mask the surprise on your face as you stare at each other in the dark car.

“Um, alright then. See you in the morning.”

“Good night. Y/N.”

You fumble with the belt and then climb out of the car, still feeling kind of giddy from his words. He waits for you to get to the front door and you wave at him before walking in. Through the closed door you hear the engine roar and he drives away, leaving you with quite a lot to digest.

Never in a million years did you imagine the opening of Nana’s to be like this. The small bakery is full to the brim, there are people everywhere, you haven’t stopped thanking everyone for the love and support and your heart leaps in your chest every time you hear someone talk about your beloved grandma. All the pastries are selling well, but as expected, the croissants are the biggest hit. 

But it’s not just the opening that has you smiling ear to ear.

Harry did show up early in the morning and he’s been helping you out all day as if he was getting paid for his work. In the kitchen, at the counter or by the tables, he’s been a one person army and your hero. You couldn’t have done it without him. 

You have just a couple of seconds to breathe between two customers and you peek over the crowd, spotting him right away by the table his mom and her friends occupy. He just made them laugh and he’s basking in their attention as he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up, revealing his tattooed arms. 

Fuck, he looks so good, it’s criminal. 

Now that he is not an asshole to you anymore, it’s pretty hard not to notice everything you’ve been trying to ignore about him. His charming dimples, his bouncy curls, the way he throws his head back when he laughs, how his nose moves when he talks, they was his hips sway when he’s walking… there is not one inch on the man you can critique.

The situation would be a lot worse if it was one-sided, but it appears that Harry is just as keen on being around you, always touching your lower back when he walks behind you, or brushing your arm to get your attention. 

“I’m seriously writing you a paycheck when it’s over,” you tell him when he returns behind the counter grabbing some cinnamon rolls to bring to the ladies by the window.

“I thought that we were already over this, Y/N,” he smirks and you bite into your bottom lip as you turn back to the customer in front of you. 

It kind of goes by in a blur, there’s so much happening, you’re always on the move and before you could even process the events, the day is over and Nana’s is closing for the first time. After the constant crowd, it’s weird to see the place empty again, but seeing that everything has sold, it finally settles in your mind: you did it.

As you turn the sign on the door your eyes slide over to the picture on the right. It was taken in Nana’s kitchen, you were about six or seven, the two of you are photographed from behind as you stand on a stool, next to Nana at the counter while she is teaching you how to make bread. The memory still lives vividly in your mind even though it’s been over two decades.

“She would be so proud of you.”

Turning around you find Harry behind you with a soft smile on his lips, his eyes on the photo at first, then they move to you and your heart skips a beat.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” he chuckles.

“So, I was serious. I owe you a paycheck after today.”

He rolls his eyes before arching an eyebrow at you.

“And I was serious when I said I don’t want anything in return.”

“You’ve been here since six, Harry!” you huff out a laugh. “I would feel so bad if you just went home without anything.”

He stares at you for long moments and you start to think he’ll just let you suffer with your guilt, but then he speaks up.

“Go on a date with me then.”

You suck on your breath as your eyes lock with his.

“What?” you whisper.

“Go on a date with me, Y/N. Will you?”

“I-If you’re still trying to make up for–” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I’m not. I told you, I want to spend time with you.”

You blink at him once, twice, as if you’re waiting for him to say it was just a joke, but he stands his ground with a serious look.

“Are you gonna leave me hanging?” he smirks, snapping you out of your haze.

“Yes–I mean, yes to the date!” you shake your head, clearing up your answer.

“I was afraid you hated me too much to give me a chance,” he breathes out a shaky laugh.

“I never hated you, I was just confused. You were the one who hated me.”

“I couldn’t hate you, Y/N. And believe me, I tried.” You both laugh at his words. “I was frustrated, because I wanted to hate you and this place so badly, but still… I was drawn to you.”

“You were?” you ask, your voice barely more than just a whisper.

“You have no idea how much,” he admits with a soft smile, stepping closer to you. “When we were skating, I totally forgot about everything and just wanted to hold your hand and help you. It was like a slap across my face when mum brought the opening up and I remembered I was supposed to hate you,” he admits with a chuckle and e inches even closer. “I’m glad I don’t have to try to hate you anymore.”

“I’m glad too.”

He is right in front of you, his face only inches away from yours and you suck on your breath when he reaches up and takes your chin between his index finger and thumb, angling your head further up so your lips are now perfectly lined up with his.

His eyes move down to your mouth, then up to meet your gaze and even without words you know he is asking for your permission to kiss you. You push closer and he is quick to close the distance and press his lips against yours.

You’d be lying if you said you never imagined what it would be like to kiss Harry. Because you did, several times. But nothing compares to having him wrapped around you, his lips so soft yet rough against yours at the same time as he kisses you over and over again while you’re fisting the collar of his shirt so tight your fingers are turning white. 

Maybe you kiss for hours, or maybe it’s just minutes, you have no clue, but when he finally pulls back, resting his forehead against yours, you just know your life is about to turn upside down.

“Changed my mind,” he speaks up at last.

“Huh?”

“About the payment.”

His words sink in slowly and your eyebrows rise.

“Oh.” Harry laughs at your reaction.

“I want my payment in kisses,” he then says with the cheesiest smile you’ve ever seen on his handsome face.

“That could be arranged,” you breathe out when you finally get what he was talking about and grabbing the back of his neck you pull him in for another one. 

And another one.

And some more.

And just like that Nana somehow brought another wonderful thing into your life, even though she is not here anymore.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[bippiti]

catalyst clc16 x rockstar! reader

after the release of your new album, life has been hectic as you've been running around doing shows. only problem is you seem to have only one person on your mind. little do you know he's having the same issue

an part two! any feedback is appreciated and please like + rb!

if you want a visual guide for the band .

part one next part

tags @bloodyymaryyy @guiseppetsunoda @maxverstappendefender @charizznorizz

yourig

liked by king, charles_leclerc and 42,836,364 others

yourig thanks for coming out london! nyc see you soon x

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user ughh i wish i couldve come :((

yourig next time lovee💜

user sounded so good

user anyone else gonna talk about the album afterparty???

user who cares bro😭 theyre adults and tbh they would be a power couple

user right?! ive been thinking the same thing, shes not a good influence on him

user im sorry do yk y/n??? how would u know that lmfao

king looking good!

liked by yourig

user where is the fit from???

user i think vivienne westwood!

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-

you sighed, scrolling through your comments. it had been almost a month after your albums release, and some people still were bringing up the hug with charles. i mean, seriously it was just a hug. it wasn't like you guys had made out or anything.

both your label and ferrari were sponsored by celsius, and your management had met with one of ferraris pr heads. they had agreed to work together to promote the new album, and had picked charles because he was a fan of your music.

you clicked instantly on the first day of set, but it also helped that you spoke fluent french (you had an obsession with indila when you were younger and forced yourself to learn it) the lack of a language barrier, coupled with the fact that you guys had similar interests made it inevitable that you both would become friends.

after the album launch party, you were exhausted. you had woken up at 4am for promo shoots, and had been running around all day before singing your whole album (which was around an hour long) to the attendees. it was fun, and you wouldnt trade your career for the whole world, but man you were tired.

as you were heading out, you spotted charles and you both stopped to talk

"tu as bien fait là-dedans" he said, smiling as he pushed his hands into his pockets (you did good in there)

"merci! les heures de pratique m’ont aidé. je pense que je pourrais oublier les paroles si j’essayais" you smile as he laughed (thanks! the hours of practice helped. i dont think i could forget the lyrics if i tried)

"en pratiquant son art on devient artisan" (practice makes perfect)

you nod, turning as you hear your bandmate siobahn call for you

you look back to him, saying your goodbyes and quickly hugging him before running after her.

that was it. just a friendly hug. it's not like he liked you, and if he knew you liked him, you doubt he would still be friends with you.

-

charles_leclerc

liked by yourig, pierregasly and 305,387 others

charles_leclerc i won. maybe next time @/pierregasly 😘

view comments

user just realized pierre had a chance to fork the king and the rook in

user not y/n liking this...

user so cute😍

pierregasly i almost had it

charles_leclerc of course you did

user my fav french men

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-

after having checkmate charles sat back, smiling smugly as he looked at pierre try and fail to make a move. giving up, he raised his hands in defeat.

"quand vais-je jamais te battre?" he said sighing as he chuckled (when will i ever beat you)

"peut-être dans une autre vie" (maybe in another life)

scoffing, pierre changed the subject.

"so i heard you're with some rockstar these days"

"i most definitley am not"

"sure, sure. you might not be dating her but i can tell you like her"

charles paused, having a mini crisis. ok. so maybe he did like you. he couldn't help it, honestly. throughout filming ,and even after he had grown to really admire you. not only just as an artist, but as a person as well. he honestly hoped you'd be able to meet up afterwards, but he hasnt been able to see you since. between his preseason training and your concerts, you both are rarely free, let alone in the same country.

he told all of this to pierre, who listened quietly, nodding along before telling him his masterplan. he was gonna help him out, what kindve friend would he be if he didnt?

-

hearing the notification sound go off on your phone, you picked it up. your eyebrows raised as you read it

part 3??

[chrollohearttags]

oh nufffinnnn just thinking bout eren telling reader to “stop running” and to “move her hand”

why? Whyyyy would y’all do this to meeeee? 😫 knees just buckled and everything (and not just because one of them is out of place)

content warning/themes: bsf eren bc im obsessed now, black fem reader (plus size descriptors) missionary, mentions of nudes, back scratching, hair pulling, daddy’s used, pet names (pretty girl, mama) creaming, full nelson

“ ‘Ren!—Eren, okaaayy! Ooh, you win!”

crying out in a fussy huff as your once best friend turned lover hovered the entirety of his six foot three slender frame towered over yours. A firm grip from both hands keeping your feet pent back near your head and your legs wide open..perfect for him to fuck you as he saw fit. How exactly had you landed yourself in such a position? Well..

“I know. I always do, baby. So I don’t know why you play like I can’t handle your fine ass..talking about ‘you don’t even know what to do with me’…out ‘your fucking mind. And I told you to stop tryna’ run because you’re not going anywhere. Take this fucking dick like a good girl. You can do that, can’t you?”

once again, silly banter ensued between you two and he yet again, had to prove you wrong. It wasn’t long after he had exited basketball practice and an intense workout; still pent up with energy and plenty of arousal..especially after you sent him some rather salacious messages. The two of you weren’t certain if you were ready to put a label on things but you were damn sure having a ball engaging in activities that couples would. Like calling one another pet names, even around other people. This time, he just so happened to be changing in front of his two closest homeboys when you FaceTimed…fresh out the shower, wrapped in a towel and looking good as fuck! The thoughts that ran through his head were not ones that he should have around other people. He had to all but restrain himself from getting hard right there in that locker room. And you didn’t make matters worse when he got to his car and you had sent him nudes. “I’m at practice right now, mama, I gotta call you back.” Videos of you playing with that pretty pussy, telling him to come stretch you out instead. Taunting him with mentions of being too tired to handle you. Watching cream drip all down those fingers..and the sound of wetness while that sexy voice moaned his name and called him daddy? You had to pay for that! So he cleared up any confusion when he stopped by your apartment, keys still in hand when you strutted out in nothing more than an anklet, white painted toes and a bonnet. Dropping to your knees to devour his dick where he stood. Spitting, slurping and sucking him off as if you lacked a gag reflex. He couldn’t believe how nasty you got for him..it was treatment he could get used to! Which in turn, swiftly got you hoisted up in the air and fucked into oblivion, right there in that living room. Only now, he was getting his lick back for your earlier commentary.

“You so deep in this fucking pussy, daddy…I—I’m sorrryyy.”

attempting to tap at his abs and push him away.. to which he’d only laugh, slapping it out of the way with minimal force because you were so depleted. He’d slow down his thrusts just a tad because maybe he had been fucking your shit up. But you weren’t done yet, he was sure and neither was he. You were going to eat your words. Slowly circling that clit with his thumb pad, he’d coo to you with the other palm on your cheek, finally releasing the grip on your legs..

“Yeah? You’re sorry? Afraid I can’t accept that, pretty girl…imma need you to come for me at least two more times before I can forgive you..”

it was in that moment that you realized what type of demon you were truly messing with! Leaning down, he’d spit into your slippery folds and keep pumping that cock in and out. “Oh my God, I can’t stand youuuu..shit!” Laughing as you glared up at one another, laughing and enjoying the moment. But you weren’t getting let off of the hook so easily!

“And move that hand, you’re not slick..you’re getting all this dick. Show me you can handle it.”

[livingemkayde]

carousel 

neighbor!joel miller/dbf!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: Rated 18+, CONSIDER THIS YOUR COMMUNITY LABEL minors please dni, smut, age gap, oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v, praise kink, light choking, dom!joel, dirty talk, pet names. can you tell i have a thing for car sex. Probably more but…yk. 

a/n: im so grateful you guys are giving me the opportunity to share my writing with a huge community. I cant thank you enough. This has been an outlet for me emotionally that i never anticipated. I love writing and i love love love reading your feedback. just for all the love you get double the smut. thank you again. please enjoy. 

if u wanna listen to a song while reading, Let The Light In by ldr was playing while i wrote this lol. apple music spotify

wc: 5k (jesus)

this is apart of my small dbf!joel mini series, read the previous parts here:

part i part ii part iii

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

He pumps his cock with your slick on his hand, moving so it's trained at your aching entrance — his hand shoots out above your head and braces himself on the car door.  “Fuckin’ in the car like teenagers,” he grunts, running his tip along your clit.  “Please Joel,” you whine. You don’t know if you can take it any longer.  Joel squeezes the tip in, your walls accept him graciously, the desire to be filled overwhelming your senses.  He slides in slowly. You whine for him to go faster.  “Need you — please, just —”  “Shut up — fuck — not gonna last,” he groans into the crook of your neck. 

You try not to think about Joel — somewhere in the back of your mind you know it’s dangerous that he occupies so much of your brain at all times. 

But you really can’t help yourself. 

Especially when his stares linger a bit too long.

Or when your dad makes burgers and Joel’s thigh grazes against yours under the table. 

And definitely not when his hands find your waist when everyone is shuffling around the kitchen, putting dishes away. 

And it might physically hurt to ignore him when Sarah convinces you to run into the ocean at midnight and he’s waiting with towels for you on the deck — his hands brushing your ass when he wraps the towel around your body. 

You thought you might have been doing an okay job at it, until you find yourself outside his bedroom door, contemplating knocking. You really didn’t want to seem desperate. But the tug in your lower stomach sends you forward, bracing your hand to knock. 

You look to your left, Sarah's room is at the end of the hall and your dad’s is around the corner. You tiptoed through the dark hallway to get some water and you couldn’t help but walk past his door — to your surprise the light was on — seeping out under the door into the hallway. 

You hear him moving. And the light turns off at your feet. You gasp and move back. But he opens the door, and catches you outside his room. 

He meets you with a curious face. You read the silent question etched into it. 

What are you doin’?

You shake your head, attempting to convey an overall I wasn’t doing anything vibe but he gives you a knowing look that makes you blush. 

He nods his head towards the stairs and moves past you. 

You follow his figure. He’s wearing pants that hug his hips and a t-shirt. He’s very simple. Yet he’s very Joel, and you can’t take your eyes off him.

He leads you into the kitchen and grabs a beer from the fridge, you sit at the table. 

When he joins you, it’s almost like you’re both too scared to make any noise, you sit in silence, watching him as he tips the beer, sipping it, while keeping his eyes trained on you. 

You aren’t dressed for the occasion, and it's a bit cold, but you don’t think he minds. 

“I was just getting some water,” you manage to get out, your voice a bit hoarse. 

“Sure,” he replies, tipping his beer towards you, chuckling a bit.

“What? I was,” you say defensively. 

“Your room was the other way,” he notes, shrugging. 

You blush and try to hide your face.

“Whatever.”  

“S’alright, baby,” he says coolly — like his words don’t shoot down right to your core, “Just didn’t know you were so needy.” 

“Fuck you,” you mumble, a laugh crinkling your eyes, “You’d like that,” you bite. 

He laughs too. 

“Maybe I would,” he says. 

A few beats pass. There’s enough tension at the table you could cut it with a knife. 

“You wanna tell me?” 

“Not really,” you tease him with a smirk, “I was just surprised you were awake is all,” you say when he doesn’t respond, leaning back in your chair. 

He lets out a huff and downs the rest of his beer. 

“Could say the same ‘bout you.” 

“I’ve got some things on my mind,” you say sheepishly, teasing. 

“Yeah?” 

You nod. 

“What things?” 

You stand, stalking towards him, he parts his legs to let you slot yourself in between his thighs. He looks up at you. 

“Don’t be an ass,” you mumble while looking at his lips, “You know what things.”

“I don’t play guessin’ games.”

“I’m not playing any games,” you quip back. 

Something in your tone switches the conversation.  

It sort of stops Joel in his tracks. He looks up at you, and then his hand finds your hip, pushing against the bone. His fingers dip into your shirt, rubbing over the bruise he pushed into your skin from earlier — he bends to place a chaste kiss to the bruise. It makes your breath hitch. You think he might push you away, or tease you for being bratty with him. But he looks up at you with caramel brown eyes. 

“On your knees then,” he says, stone-cold. 

Your eyes widen, and you look around the kitchen in shock even though you know you’re alone with Joel. 

He looks up at you — maybe a little shocked that you comply so quickly without putting up a fight. But you were a goner the second you walked by his room and your body is dropping in between his legs before you know any better. 

Your knees hit the floor and you sit back on your heels, settling in between his feet. 

He groans and pushes forward to rest his elbows on his knees, looking down at you. One hand grabs your face, tilting it up so you’re looking at him. The hold on your jaw squishes your cheeks a bit. 

“You want it?” he says. 

Your eyes intuitively look down to his zipper. 

You nod. 

“Use your words.” 

“Yes,” you let out as best you can with his hand on your jaw. 

“Fuckin’ dirty girl,” Joel groans. His hand keeps your jaw in place, the other undoes his belt and frees his cock. 

“Thought ‘bout me all night, huh?” 

You nod out of habit. 

“What I just fuckin’ say?” he shakes his head, the hold on your jaw comes down to your throat, squeezing gently. 

“Yes — yes,” you say quickly. 

You look down to his cock again, the tip of it gleaming with precum. It sends a white heat straight to the apex at your thighs. 

“Please,” you whimper, looking up at him, “Can I?” 

Joel can’t resist you. You both know that much. 

“Alright,” he drops his hand from your throat. “C’mon princess.” 

He leans back slightly. You spring to your knees, not waiting for his permission, and take the tip of his cock into the heat of your mouth. The saltiness of it hits your tongue and you whimper around his length. It makes him groan. 

“Shit.” you hear him curse above you. 

He gathers your hair, raking it up into a mess at the top of your head. You suck and lick his tip, teasing him a bit before he gets impatient and pushes your head down. You don’t mind his advances, bracing your tongue for his length. 

But he’s big. 

Bigger than the few you’ve had — and you choke when he hits the back of your throat. You brace yourself on his thigh, trying to take the little he’s pushing you down on. 

“You can take it baby, c’mon. Slow.” 

His words shoot straight down to your cunt. You try but you’re not used to his length. 

“Chokin’ on it, c’mere —” he makes a move to pull his cock from your mouth but you whimper and slide in more across your tongue. He groans, “— fuck, baby.” 

You want to take more. You know you can take more. 

“Doin’ so good,” he grunts when you swallow more of him, “Fuck — you —”

Joel's hand holding your hair moves to your face. He runs his thumb across your cheek. It makes you look up at him through your lashes. His praise rings in your ears, and you can feel your hot slick dribble down your thighs. 

He stares at you taking him — mouth slack with lust. His rich drawl, velvet, coaxes you down further. 

“Goddamn angel —” he moans, “— so fuckin’ perfect.” 

His head tips back in pleasure when you take what doesn't fit in your mouth into your hand. 

He wipes the tears that spring from your efforts away with his thumb, looking at you kinda sympathetically. 

“Attagirl, fuckin’ made f’me, baby,” he whispers. You look up at him again, because it sounds like he might actually mean that. You press your thighs together at the thought. 

His words become quiet whimpers mixed with groans as you bob your head, steadily taking more — replacing your hand with your mouth. 

“In your fuckin’ throat,” he hisses out when your nose brushes against the mess of hair at the base. 

He slots his fingers through your hair, his hands, frantically touching you anywhere he can scramble to. 

When Joel goes silent you know he’s close. His soft breath becomes pants above you. 

When he grips your hair hard, you know he’s teetering on the edge and who are you to deny him?

His hips slightly cant towards your mouth, chasing his high, and he spurts down your throat in hot succession. He lets out a string of curses followed by your name. It makes you blush as you swallow. 

You release his cock from your mouth, sinking back onto your heels as you rest your cheek on his thigh. His breath rises and falls and you watch the place where his heart should be rhythmically moving. 

“Don't fuckin’ look at me like that,” he says, shaking his head and trying to avert his eyes. You look up at him, lazy, the slick between your thighs is enough to put a tortured look through your brows. 

His thumb wipes your chin, some cum dragging across your swollen lips, and sticks his thumb back into your mouth as you suck it clean. 

“Jesus, baby.” 

“What?” you smile back at him. 

Joel looks down at you, resting against his knee, in between his legs, your eyes lidded with lust and exhaustion. 

He bends down to kiss your lips, and then your forehead, whispering into your skin —

“You’re killin’ me.”

_

Everyone takes it easy the next morning, Sarah dips into the ocean in the afternoon, you help your dad with lunch. 

It's uneventful but it's nice. 

Your dad suggests going to the boardwalk for dinner, which you all agree to, Sarah wanted to check out the rides there. 

You slip into a dress, your dad said the restaurant was a bit fancy. You’re just grateful you brought a dress in the first place. You meet everyone downstairs, Joel looks up at you descending which makes you laugh a bit. It’s sort of like prom when you first come down the stairs and your date is waiting for you. Or like he’s prince charming and you’re Cinderella. 

But you get snapped out of that trance quickly. 

“Ready to go kiddo?” your dad says, moving towards the entrance. 

You smile at him, Sarah comes to your side, linking arms and goes on about how there's a ferris wheel and carousel on the boardwalk, across from the beachfront restaurants. 

You all pile into the truck, Joel in the driver’s seat. It's a short walk but it’ll be easier to drive with so many people.

Your dad was right, the restaurant is a bit fancy. And it feels like you’re suffocating when you sit down across from Joel, Sarah at your side. He looks up at you — you blush and smile to yourself, opening the menu. It’s far too formal for the four of you, but it’s a nice change. And you like seeing Joel in a button down. 

Dinner drowns on — you aren’t really paying attention to much because Joel’s foot keeps bumping into yours. Maybe it’s accidental. Or maybe it's a silent plea. 

Sarah’s voice snaps you out of it. 

“Please dad?” she asks, having cleaned her plate. 

You remember them talking in the truck, Sarah saying something about meeting a few friends her age on the beach. 

“They down near the rides?” Joel says, gruff. 

“Yes, dad. Like I’ve told you a million times,” she rolls her eyes and Joel laughs a bit, waving her off with a twenty and telling her to be safe and get back by midnight.

The two men turn their attention back to you. 

Joel’s foot knocks into yours again and you shoot him a look — though he doesn’t seem to be paying it much attention. You’d be lying if you said the uncertainty of his touches left you completely unbothered. 

You finish dinner with a coffee, the men have their drinks. 

You can't really think about much else until your dad's voice snaps you out of it. 

“So, what do you think?” 

But he's not talking to you. He's talking to Joel. 

“What do I think ‘bout what?” He asks. 

“Dude—” your dad is sipping at his whiskey, “Theresa?” 

Doesn’t seem like appropriate conversation when you’re present but that doesn’t really cross your mind because who the fuck is Theresa? 

“Uh, yeah she’s nice, man,” Joel says awkwardly. 

Nice? 

“Nice?” your dad scoffs, echoing your sentiment. 

Your dad looks over at you — “Been tryin’ to set Joel up with a lady,” he says, explaining. But it feels more like a punch in the face. Your eyes widen, you choke a little on your coffee. 

“Oh,” you say. Joel doesn’t meet your eye, “She from the neighborhood?” you inquire, thinking about the woman from the barbecue. 

Your dad nods. 

“She’s a teacher,” he says. “You probably met her at the barbecue.” 

He turns back to Joel.

“She likes you dude,” your dad says. “Think she’d be good for you.”

That feels less like a punch in the gut and more like you got roundhouse kicked in the face and slammed into the ground. You try not to let it get to you. 

“Just don’t know if I’m lookin’ right now,” is all he says in reply. You try not to look at him, but your brain subconsciously makes an effort for you, peering up at him through your lashes. He catches your eye quickly — and drops it in just as much time. 

Your dad grunts in response, waving down the waiter to get the bill. 

“What ever happened to that Liam kid?” he says, talking to you now. 

“Oh,” you reply kinda absentmindedly. You haven't really thought of Liam in a couple days. His texts remain unopened in your phone. 

“Nothing,” you shrug. 

“Hm, nice kid though,” your dad claps Joel on the back, “Ain’t you think so?” he says, talking to Joel now.

“Sure,” Joel lets out in his rich drawl. 

Another tap on your foot.

Joel’s eyes stare into yours but he doesn’t look angry — it's more of an expression you can’t read. 

He isn’t mad right? 

“Yeah,” you say, the conversation dying down. 

Your dad doesn’t see your stolen glances. 

“Why don’t you go with Joel, kiddo?” he says, fishing bills out of his wallet. 

“What?” You ask, shocked. 

“Need to handle some work-things back at the house, but I heard the boardwalk here is nice at night,” he nods over to the exit. 

You look at Joel tentatively. He nods towards the exit, giving your dad a handshake while you follow him outside. 

The cool air hits you. You shiver a bit, wrapping your arms around yourself. 

You fall into a steady stroll towards the boardwalk. You can see the lights from the ferris wheel a couple hundred feet ahead of you, the ocean water shining under the moonlight as you walk along the coast.

You look over at Joel, his hands digging into his pockets. 

“Good dinner?” you ask, smiling.

“Mhm,” he says.

You settle into the night, walking towards the carousel lighting up the center of the boardwalk. 

“C’mon, Joel,” you say, looking towards the small line waiting to get on. The lights shine a white-yellow — lighting up his eyes in the darkness. Kids scream. Adults laugh. It’s a bit too perfect. 

He looks at you and huffs. Almost like a no is already trained on his lips from habit. But when he looks at you, he stops himself. 

“Alright, c’mon,” he grabs you by your hand, interlacing your fingers and steps in line. 

The previous ride ends quickly, Joel steps on the platform first, helping you up, extending his hand. 

You both sit on one of the benches meant for parents. He drops an arm around you, like it’s second nature. You snuggle into it. 

“Haven’t been on one of these in years,” he says when the music starts and the platform begins to spin. Some kids run by, trying to claim the best animal. 

“Me too,” you say in reply. 

You remember the last time you’d been on a carousel. Your dad and Joel organized a day trip to the state fair — though it feels like forever ago — during high school. 

“State fair, remember?” You say, hesitant. 

“Yup,” he squeezes your shoulder. 

“Didn’t think you ‘member,” he continues. 

“Of course I do,” you look at him, he meets your eye. “You gave me my first sip of beer.” 

You wonder if that might strike a nerve. It’s more than a loaded statement — a bomb already counting down. 

He huffs a laugh. 

“Now look at you,” he says. 

“Yeah, all grown up or something,” you say, teasingly. 

“Or something’,” he echoes, with a huff, not meeting your eye.  

A few moments pass. 

You see a particularly pretty horse out of the corner of your eye. You begin to stand on the moving platform, Joel scrambles for your waist. 

“The hell are you doin’?” he grabs you, standing. 

You look back at him, entranced by the light circling his face. It looks perfect — he looks perfect. Picturesque. Hallmark. Like it could be a movie scene. Maybe in another life he would kiss you — with the horses spinning around you, the night sky staring down when he kisses you like nothing else matters. 

But you know Joel. 

And you know putting his arm around you was pushing his boundaries. 

“C’mon,” you pull him towards the horse that caught your eye. 

He grunts but follows you. 

You get on, both legs on one side, stumbling a bit on the way there. But you’re having fun, and Joel is here and he doesn’t want to leave. 

He stands next to the horse, looking up at you.

“Havin’ fun?” 

“Loads,” you smile at him, he smirks back, hiding his face when you touch the spot between his neck and his shoulder, squeezing. 

“You look pretty,” he cuts through the music. 

You try to hide your shock. 

Pretty. 

It's not like this with other guys. Sure, they've called you pretty, some even called you beautiful. But with Joel, you feel like he really means it. 

It also shoots down to the white heat building in your stomach. 

“You clean up nice, Miller,” you say with a blush. 

The ride ends, you both settle, walking through the boardwalk. A breeze rushes through, it sends a chill up your spine. 

You wrap your arms around yourself to trap some heat even though your efforts are fruitless. 

But Joel notices. 

“Got a jacket in the truck. C’mon,” he says, turning to walk back to the truck parked near the beach. 

You follow him. 

It might even be on instinct, but you snake your hand through his, interlocking your fingers while your other hand holds onto his arm where the crease of his elbow is. 

You don’t see him smile. 

When you get to the truck he opens the back door, leaning in to grab his jacket out of the backseat. He wraps it around your body. The smell instantly fills your nostrils and shoots down to your core. It’s his heavy work jacket and it’s entirely too big for your small frame but you like it — love it. 

When you finish putting it on, he looks at you, still standing by the open car door. He leans back against the seat cushion, looking at you with crossed arms. 

“A little big,” you giggle, showing him your hands which disappear into the canvas sleeves. 

“Looks good on you,” he says with a smile. 

You walk towards him, he wraps his arms around you. 

“Thanks,” you say into his chest. 

Joel hums in response. 

A breeze pushes on your legs and you can feel your nipples pebble against your dress — you think Joel can feel it too if his sudden stiffness is any indication.

You adjust in his arms, slotting yourself between his legs. 

You can feel him. 

“Kiss me,” you say, looking up at him. 

“We’re in public,” he doesn’t look down at you, but you can see the muscle in his jaw tick. You don’t know why he’s being withholding. No one is nearby — Joel’s truck is the only one left in the parking lot. 

“Please?” 

“Not now.” 

His tone might suggest he doesn’t actually want to kiss you. But his cock pressing hard against your stomach tells a different story. 

“Joel,” you whine, wriggling against him. 

“Quit,” he says. 

You try to stop moving. But the feeling of him, hard, against you, makes your cunt throb.

He stops you before you make any decisions. 

“Don’t.” 

“I didn’t even do anything.”

“Know you’re thinkin’ of somethin’,” he says, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Needy,” he complains. 

You’re about to drop it. But his hand snakes around your waist under his jacket. The movement hikes your dress up, his hand resting on your low back.

You are — needy. 

But you just need him.

“Joel,” you say, giving him a warning. 

“What, baby?” he says, teasing. 

“Please.” 

Not a question — a statement. 

A plea. 

Joel looks down at you for a couple seconds. Then he taps your ass towards the inside of the truck. 

“Get in,” he moves so you can crawl in first, spinning around when you get to the other side of the truck’s backseat, shucking off his jacket and hiking up your dress. He crawls in after you, shutting the door. 

He’s quick with his belt, undoing his jeans in a frantic fashion — pulling his tucked shirt out of his pants. His cock is free before you have the chance to pull down your panties. 

Joel pushes your dress up more, revealing your underwear. He plays with the straps a bit, before pushing them to the side roughly. The sudden movement causes them to rip a little.

“Joel!” you say, as he grabs your panties and stuffs them into his pocket. 

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he pants, sucking a mark into your hip. 

His fingers find your core as you lay down along the back seat, opening your legs, your thighs covered with slick. Joel’s thick fingers slide through your folds. His breath hitches and he lets out a curse to find you soaking wet, staining your legs. 

“Fuck baby, you didn’t…?” he trails off, referring to after you had his cock in your mouth and he told you to get some rest. 

You shake your head. “Waiting for you,” you pant, breathless. 

“Christ,” he groans, playing a thumb on your clit as you writhe under him. “This all for me?” 

“Yes — Joel — you,” you say through moans. 

He pumps his cock with your slick on his hand, moving so it's trained at your aching entrance — his hand shoots out above your head and braces himself on the car door. 

“Fuckin’ in the car like teenagers,” he grunts, running his tip along your clit. 

“Please Joel,” you whine. You don’t know if you can take it any longer. 

Joel squeezes the tip in, your walls accept him graciously, the desire to be filled overwhelming your senses. 

He slides in slowly. You whine for him to go faster. 

“Need you — please, just —” 

“Shut up — fuck — not gonna last,” he groans into the crook of your neck. 

“God—” you moan when he slides home, his hips pressing into your thighs. 

Joel can feel you pulsing around him. You’re dangerously close already. 

The windows gather condensation from your combined pants. 

You try to angle your hips up to meet him, fucking him back as he thrusts slowly, but that makes him groan more. 

“Jesus Christ, baby,” he says, his thick drawl wrapping all through the truck, stoking the fire burning in your low belly. 

You want more — no — need more. 

You push his chest back. He looks at you confused but compiles. He sits back in the seats, you straddle him, pushing his cock towards your entrance. 

You look at him. He stares back in awe. 

“Baby—” you cut him off by sinking down on his cock, the tip sneaking past your entrance. He lets out a strangled groan. 

You take him, inch by inch, feeling his girth stretch you out in an entirely different way at this angle. 

“Fuck, feel so good, Joel,” you settle on top of him, both of your chests panting against each other as you grind your hips a bit. “So deep,” you moan out, cockdrunk. 

His hands find your waist and hips, begging you to move — to do anything. You look down to his jacket on the seat. His work jacket. That he wears around the neighborhood. You’re not sure why but your dad’s comments about Theresa enter your mind. 

“Do you have a crush on anyone in the neighborhood?” 

“What?” he asks with a grunt. “I’m literally inside you.” 

“I know, but…” 

You shift a bit in his lap, the movement makes both of you moan out. 

“Said she’d be good for you,” you manage to get out. 

“Don’t really remember her,” he whispers, trying to push his hips into you. “‘N don’t agree.” 

“You don’t like her? — ah —” you start rocking on his hips, chasing a high that's settled in your stomach on instinct. 

“No,” he fucks into you, chasing his own.

“Then what do you think?”

His eyes dart up to yours, holding your gaze for the first time tonight, not breaking it or looking away.  

“Think I like you,” he breathes into your cheek. 

He says it with such a genuine tone even though he’s deep inside you. It makes your stomach do a flip, finding the urge to ride him incessant through your loud thoughts of what could be. When he says things like that it’s hard to ignore it any longer. When he looks at you like that you know you’re completely done for. 

“Fuck —” you say, clenching around him. 

You ride him, the notion of his words settling in your chest and pushing you towards your release quicker than you thought possible. 

You’re coming before he can respond. 

“Oh my — fuck, Joel,” you whine. 

“That’s it, attagirl — fuck,” he goes silent, chasing his own high as you relax around him. 

His hands urge you to continue moving. He kisses you, like a man starved. All your silent begging through the night erupting with one kiss as you come down from your high. It's like he was telling you at the restaurant — be patient and at the carousel — just wait. 

Your stomach tightens at the feeling of his breath on your neck, sucking and biting and just smelling your skin. 

You continue to ride him through your post orgasmic haze. He chases his own release like he's done the whole night. 

“Oh baby — I —” he groans when you nip at his earlobe. 

“Please Joel, wanna feel you,” you whisper into his ear. 

He groans at that, pushing you down by your hips faster, you grind against him, a piece of clay destined to be molded to his body perfectly. 

“Jesus — fuck,” he groans, wrapping his arms around you, sinking his teeth into your neck, and coming inside you with hot hands running over your back. 

When he relaxes under you, he presses soft kisses to your temple, you tremble from the thought of his hot slick oozing out of you through the night. 

“Did so good for me, such a good girl,” he whispers into the dark truck. 

You slump against him, he holds onto you. 

His words ring in your ears. 

Think I like you.

You smile when you look at him. 

“What?” he asks, a smirk on his lips. 

“You said you like me,” you chide, teasing him. 

“Shut up,” he breathes, laughing a bit. 

“Don’t worry,” you kiss him, “I like you too.” 

_

taglist! (comment or message me if you would like to be added) kisses to you all:

@nostalxgic @iluvurfather

@thatgirlpeaches @prettyangelsthing @loreleiintheskye @ghostofjoharvelle @vickywallace @nevertrustapanda16 @crocodiile @lovely-ateez @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @expir3dl0v3 @koshkaj-blog @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @smol-beb @bbyanarchist @evyiione @dlwrish @mishala005 @mxtokko @faeriemel @caatheeriinee07 @virgils-left-hoodie-string @sorry--for-the-mess

[atydblack]

sirius black x pureblood!reader where they r at a pureblood gathering in an established relationship & the reader although not a blood supremacist is pretty praised within the society and viewed almost as a pureblood princess, an example & a perfect (future) wife. she doesn’t love that but she’s used to coloring in the lines so she can’t help the way she is viewed by the pureblood society. anyway, sirius and reader r at some kind of pureblood event and he already feels out of place. reader tries to keep him at bay but eventually he causes a scene when a few boys actively hit on reader in front of sirius. reader pulls him aside and is just like wtf is wrong w u sirius u know im yours. lots of comfort and fluff plz

"pureblood princess"

masterlist

"I can't believe you're making me do this." Sirius huffed, frustratedly attempting to tie his tie.

"I don't want to go just as much as you don't!" You grumbled, wandering over to him and helping him with his tie.

"I have a solution," He smirked, "We could just... not go?"

You rolled your eyes, he had been complaining all day and you were done with repeating yourself.

"We don't have a choice, Siri."

It was the night of the annual Pureblood Ball and now that you and Sirius were engaged, your attendance was mandatory.

This year, the ball was at the Black Manor. The Blacks had been almost shunned from the society due to Sirius' behaviour but have now been welcomed back with open arms.

Sirius' parents were over the moon when they found out about your relationship. After years of Sirius refusing to accept his label as a pureblood, his engagement to you surprised everyone.

Your parents weren't so excited. There was constant gossip of the Black family after Sirius ran away and as you were highly considered the 'pureblood princess' to those in the pureblood society, they thought you could do much better.

Sirius didn't help himself when attending big events like this. You had to beg him to come and when he finally agreed, he just moped the whole evening.

"Why don't we just run away?" Sirius mumbled, pulling you in to his chest and kissing the top of your head.

"We can't." You mumbled back. As much as you did want to run away with Sirius forever, you just couldn't. Your presence was too demanded, if you ran away with Sirius they'd have his head on a stick within a week.

"At least you look gorgeous." Sirius poked at you.

That was one of the only thing you enjoyed about these gatherings, you could both dress up.

When you were much younger, these parties excited you too much. With rose tinted glasses on as a little girl the idea of wearing a pretty dress and have everyone fawning over you was a dream.

You could sense Sirius' anxiety upon arrival and as much as you tried to comfort him, he just quickly shut you down.

"Siri, you'll be fine. We just have to show our faces for a bit then we can go home." You reached for his hand.

"I am fine." Sirius grunted. "I just don't want to be here."

He avoided eye contact with you as you walked through the giant doors towards the dimly lit ball room.

You'd think that this would be any girls dream and perhaps if you ignored the details it might be. However knowing that almost everyones ideologies in that room were what many considered evil spoilt the whole thing.

Everyone was dressed in dark colours, your deep red dress complimenting the room. The most infamous names in the pureblood society were here tonight, so you knew you had to put on your best act.

"Sirius," Narcissa greeted sternly as her and her sister Bellatrix approach the two of you "Y/N."

Sirius' jaw tightened as he kept his words to himself.

"Narcissa, Bellatrix. Lovely to see the both of you." You faked a small smile.

"Congratulations on your engagement," Bellatrix sneered. "How you managed it I will never know, Y/N."

"I'm not quite sure what you mean."

"Well, our dear Sirius would have danced on all of our graves just a few months ago, including yours." Bellatrix smirked. "You must tell me the details of the charm or potion you used to make him like this."

"Oh piss off, Bellatrix." Sirius barked.

"Oops, looks like it's wearing off." Bellatrix laughed before the two of them strutted off.

"Great start." You mumbled.

"Can we just leave, Y/N." Sirius groaned.

"Just a little longer, Siri." You squeezed his hand as you moved forward within the party, before spotting both your parents approaching you.

"Y/N, darling." Your mother ushered you over. "Come join us."

"Orion," You smiled gently "Walburga, lovely to see you both again."

You had known Sirius' parents since you were born. Funny how differently women and men were treated in this odd society.

You were treat like a delicate flower and on the other hand Sirius was raised with high expectations of being this big strong man. Now somehow you were the one being praised for bringing him back into this toxic environment.

Sirius stayed silent, not bothering to utter a word to your parents nor his own.

"Oh, darling Y/N, how stunning you look." Walburga gushed. "You will be such a stunning bride."

"Indeed," Orion spoke sternly. "It will be a pleasure for the pureblood princess to be part of the Black family."

"It will be my pleasure." You blushed.

Sirius let go of your hand, walking away from the group without a word.

"He's um-" You mumbled becoming flustered. "He's still getting used to being back here."

"Don't worry darling," Walburga reassured you. "We couldn't manage him so we can hardly expect you to."

You gave a fake smile and after a while of conversing with you soon to be in-laws, you left to get a drink.

Your eyes wandered around the room as you waited for your drink at the bar, Sirius nowhere to be seen.

You couldn't blame him, it wasn't exactly the best place for him to be but you didn't expect him to abandon you within the first 10 minutes.

"If it isn't the pureblood princess," A voice was heard from behind you. "Where's your retched fiance?"

It was Evan Rosier. He had been on your case for years and after many, many proposal refusals he still couldn't give up.

"Why would I tell you." You muttered.

"Ah, he's left already? I'm not so surprised. He's always been a runner." He came closer to you, not leaving eye contact. "I would never abandon you, princess."

"He hasn't abandoned me." You snapped. "Can't you take no for an answer? I'm engaged."

"You think I believe that? What business does Sirius Black have with you? He hates all of us, including your family."

"Shut up."

"Can't handle the truth?" He reached over to grab your chin, forcing you to look at him. Not wanting to cause a scene, you let him. "Princess, I would give you the respect you deserve and you know it."

"Leave me alone."

He chuckled, leaning in closer.

"Make me." His face was inches from yours as you froze inside yourself.

Before you knew it, he was being pushed against the bar, glasses smashing everywhere.

"Keep your hands off of her you filthy rat." Sirius barked.

"Your puppies come off his leash, Princess." Evan smirked.

Sirius shoved him harder, ready to hit him.

"Sirius, don't" You grabbed ahold of his arm as the room went silent. "Don't do this."

"Yeah, or what?" He grunted.

You pulled on his arm harder and he turned to look at you, his features softening as you caught his eye.

"Lets just go, Siri, please."

He pushed Evan to the floor before storming out of the front doors.

You rushed after him, ignoring the muttering of gossip as you did so.

"Fuck!" You heard him shout out of frustration now that he was away from everyone.

He was sat on one of the stone steps with a cigarette in his hand and you sat yourself next to him.

"What was all that about?" You mumbled.

"Are you fucking kidding?" Sirius grunted. "He was all over you."

"I can handle myself."

"Doesn't bloody look like it." He bit.

"Well, I can." You bit back. "You know how many years I've had to deal with men like that?"

He was silent for a moment.

"I'm sorry I just- I can't stand being around all those people again."

"All those people? Siri, they're your family."

"Yeah well they're all pricks." He muttered. "And you- why are you pretending like becoming a Black is such an honour? My family is filled with lines and lines of horrible people and you know it."

"I know. You know I have to say these things." You responded. "But I do feel honoured."

"How could you possibly feel honoured."

"Because I get to marry you."

He turned to hide is blushed cheeks before turning back to you.

"I love you, Y/N."

-

this is not proofread and there is no smut im so sorry but i just wanted something to back into the swing of writing and loved this idea!

[diorsluv]

casual , part 2

“ ‘cause i’m still hanging around ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

vivianliu

liked by yourusername, adamfantilli, and 66,824 others

vivianliu spending time w my girlfriend while she’s still my girlfriend 🫶

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

yourusername what’s that supposed to mean 😰

→ vivianliu you know exactly what i mean.

→ yourusername NO YOU’RE STILL MY WIFE I PROMISE

→ vivianliu SAY THAT IN FRONT OF THE MAN WHOSE BED YOU SLEEP IN

→ yourusername VIVI PLEASE

→ rutgermcgroarty whats going on 🙉

→ lhughes_06 ARE YOU THE MAN WHOSE BED SHE SLEEPS IN?? rutgermcgroarty

→ rutgermcgroarty no stupid (i wish)

→ yourusername HUH? EXPLAIN URSELF RUT

→ _quinnhughes oh hell no

→ jackhughes wtf

→ edwards.73 oh

username33 YOU’RE SO GORGEOUS

rutgermcgroarty baguette 🥖

→ vivianliu those are french dumbass

→ rutgermcgroarty mamma mia! 🕺

→ yourusername THAT WAS IN GREECE 😭😭

→ rutgermcgroarty goddammit you two never let me win

username7 OKAY GODDESSES???

luca.fantilli i love italy 🇮🇹

→ vivianliu i love taiwan 🇹🇼

→ edwards.73 i love canada 🇨🇦

→ markestapa i love america 🇺🇸

→ rutgermcgroarty i love nebraska

→ adamfantilli stop speaking right now rutgermcgroarty

→ rutgermcgroarty i thought we were naming our native countries????

→ mackie.samo but nebraska isn’t a fucking country?????

_quinnhughes okay i know my sister asked what the caption meant but actually what does the caption mean 😥

→ vivianliu figure it out

→ yourusername no quinny don’t figure it out

→ _quinnhughes just because i’m in vancouver doesn’t mean you can run around doing crazy shit

→ yourusername BUT IM NOT THOUGH??? 😭

→ _quinnhughes i’m going to figure it out and once i do you’ll have no choice but to tell me everything

→ yourusername you’re so nosy wtf

→ jackhughes what about me 😓😓

dylanduke25 why didn’t you take me with you

→ vivianliu because we didn’t want to 🤗

→ dylanduke25 oh 😕

→ adamfantilli LEAVE MY DUDE ALONE

username94 what i’m hearing is rosie’s cheating on vivian with ethan

username45 everyone’s so obvious abt this shit 😭

username21 the dresses are so prettyyy!

username30 best friend goals 🗣️

username28 correct me if i’m wrong but isn’t that the bag ethan posted himself buying on his story a few weeks ago??

→ username76 this sum detective shit 😭😭

trevorzegras i know

→ vivianliu know what?

→ trevorzegras I KNOW.

→ yourusername and how do you know

→ trevorzegras a little birdie told me

→ yourusername a little BITCH*** by the name of rutger mcgroarty?!????

→ trevorzegras snitches get stitches 🤫

→ rutgermcgroarty i plead innocent

→ vivianliu since when are you ever innocent???

username53 trevor knowing before her brothers is insane

jamie.drysdale bring back souvenirs 🙏

→ vivianliu she spent an HOUR at a gift shop today

→ yourusername i’m thorough with my purchases 😈😈

markestapa your girlfriend’s boyfriend is jealous

→ vivianliu my girlfriend doesn’t have a boyfriend 😒

→ mackie.samo THEY’RE DATING

→ vivianliu they’re “casual” 🙄🙄

→ luca.fantilli exactly they’re casually dating

→ vivianliu we all know he doesn’t like labels

edwards.73 pretty

→ vivianliu stfu 🤬🤬

→ edwards.73 was talkin bout the view but ok

→ yourusername the view is very pretty

→ edwards.73 so pretty i couldn’t take my eyes off it

→ dylanduke25 GET A ROOM

username21 ethan flirting every chance he gets 😭

→ vivianliu i’m against it but majority rules ig 😞

username60 the sunset is STUNNING

_alexturcotte what’s your opinion about it

→ vivianliu i’m definitely a neutral supporter but i’m kiiiiiiiiiinda leaning towards NO. NEIN. NAY. ABSOLUTELY NOT.

→ colecaufield agreed

→ edwards.73 yall gotta stop hating on my boy

→ _alexturcotte 🫤

→ vivianliu 😐

→ colecaufield 😑

edwards.73

liked by adamfantilli, mackie.samo, and 94,168 others

edwards.73 shi was fogging up 😵‍💫

view all comments

username6 wait. waiiiiiiiiiiiit.

rutgermcgroarty HOLD TF UP IS THAT HER CAR

→ edwards.73 🚗💨

→ rutgermcgroarty wtf bro i was sitting in there like 15 mins ago

→ edwards.73 you never sit in the back anyways you’re fine

→ markestapa I WAS SITTING IN THE BACK WHAT THE FUCK

→ edwards.73 😱

→ markestapa i’m gonna shower for a week what the hell

username47 IS THAT THE LAKE????

username33 bro really dropped the biggest bomb on us like we wouldn’t notice tf?

luca.fantilli notice how the clock says 4 am. I COULDN’T SLEEP FOR 4 FUCKING HOURS

→ edwards.73 STOP EXAGGERATING it wasn’t even that bad

→ luca.fantilli it wasn’t that bad MY ASS

→ edwards.73 we were quiet 😪

→ luca.fantilli yeah when you two were finally passed out 😒😒

dylanduke25 ethan i have two very important words for you

→ edwards.73 go ahead say it

→ dylanduke25 thin. walls. THIN. FUCKING. WALLS.

→ edwards.73 that’s 5 words duker

→ dylanduke25 fuck you

→ edwards.73 there we go now we’re at 2

→ dylanduke25 😒😒

username57 that is a hughes if i’ve ever seen one

vivianliu 🤬

→ edwards.73 why r u beefing w me 🙄

→ vivianliu is this supposed to be a soft launch

→ edwards.73 you could call it that yeah

→ vivianliu then tf r u launching bc it sure as hell isn’t a relationship last time i checked mr “i don’t do labels”

yourusername nice very nice

→ edwards.73 whats nice?? im gonna need u to specify

→ yourusername the heart it’s nicely drawn 🤗

→ edwards.73 mhmm cuz the windows got foggy af

→ yourusername oh really? doing what?

→ edwards.73 that’s a good question maybe we should test shit out to see what gets the windows so fogged up like that

username26 it’s a whole hughes-a-palooza up in here

username80 sunset 😁😁

lhughes_06 eddy since when did you get a girl??

→ edwards.73 since before u left 🙄

→ lhughes_06 AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME??

→ edwards.73 my girl wanted to keep it a secret so we kept it on the dl 🙏

→ lhughes_06 but everyone else knows.

→ edwards.73 we’ll tell you eventually!

→ lhughes_06 😓

username24 tell me this aint the girl he’s been flirting w for the past three months

→ username5 i think it’s been longer than three months 😭😭

username78 name drop rn

mackie.samo 🥀

→ edwards.73 🥴

→ vivianliu is this the boy verson of code names

→ rutgermcgroarty fuck no

→ adamfantilli we use initials cuz we’re not weird???

→ colecaufield this shit is too obvious

jackhughes 🤨🤨

→ edwards.73 😰😰

→ jackhughes ur a little risky for that one

username66 does jack know or is everyone clueless

username32 are we just gonna ignore the fact that ethan called her his girl in one of the threads??

username87 this shit freaky asf 😭

trevorzegras oh 👀

→ edwards.73 yes

→ _alexturcotte z stop acting like you know more than we do

→ trevorzegras I DO

→ luca.fantilli go ahead keep lying to yourself

adamfantilli 😲

→ edwards.73 🫣

→ vivianliu 🤫

→ colecaufield 🫠

→ rutgermcgroarty 😏

→ markestapa 😫

→ yourusername 🤭

→ jackhughes 😧

→ dylanduke25 🫢

→ trevorzegras 🤪

→ luca.fantilli 😃

→ _alexturcotte 🙃

→ mackie.samo 🤓

→ _quinnhughes all of you are like the definition of brainrot

next chapter notes ) like stated in the description under the au on the main masterlist… EXTREMELY SUGGESTIVE so let this be your warning 😭 yall r freaky bitches tho bc I REMEMBER THAT ONE CHAPTER IN FEATHER 🤨🤨 the influx of notes i had on that chap was insane also this chap’s a short girlie butttttt hell week is incoming so im either gonna have more short chaps or less longer chaps 😓😓

tags: @dancerbailey3 @hughesfein @loveforaugust

[lieswetell]

IFHY (Jordan Li x Alt!Reader) PT 1

Tags~ roommate au, enemies to lovers, alt reader, tattooed reader, slow burn, supe!reader, afab!fem!reader

Warnings~ angry sex, jordan might be a lil mean, porn w plot bc im freaky like that, drugs, alcohol, gay shit

Monday, August 7th

“It’s only one semester. This will be over before you know it,” Mia said.

You want to hear her out and try to be optimistic about the situation, but it’s complicated. Having your own dorm was rare in Godolkin. Students who did usually paid an ungodly amount for the extra privacy or were gifted one because of their current sponsors. For you, in your previous two years, it had been a mixture of both.

“This is bullshit.” You complain and have to force yourself not to roll your eyes at your phone.

Mia hadn’t done anything wrong. She was doing everything she could to get you what you wanted. However, it wasn’t playing out in your favor this time. You were still in your dorm, trying to cling on to that last bit of single dorm life you could, even though you were moments away from the move.

“Look. I love you, but there isn't anything else I can do. Some of these kids will probably be out in a few months.” Mia tried to help you look on the bright side of the situation.

You have yet to respond to what your assistant was telling you. Instead, you just kept looking around the now-empty dorm with a mournful gaze.

“Shetty says it’s a large roo-” Mia added.

“My room was plenty big enough,” You complained again. This time, the words came out in a sort of whine that would remind anyone else of a toddler.

 You got up from the floor and wiped your hands on your pants. After taking a deep breath, you closed the last bin in your room.

“One semester.”  You sighed.

“One semester,” Mia said, her voice a lot more positive than yours.

“When are you recording that video for-”

“Alright, look at the time the moving team is here. Can’t be late.” You cut her off and blew her a kiss before hanging up on her.

The moving team wasn’t anywhere near your room, and you knew that. If you focused, you could hear everyone in the building. There wasn’t a trace of dickheads with whistles anywhere near you.

The Godolkin University moving team usually consisted of sophomore students with too much strength to know where to put it. Many were from various clubs or programs that forced them to help incoming students. 

You started to stack your bins and luggage outside of your room on your own. Typically, the moving team would assist the students. Still, it was effortless for you to carry the items, and you thought if you looked around your dorm for any longer, you might burst into tears. That wasn’t very productive or good for your image if anyone were to see it. So you popped in your earbuds and started to lift the bins. When finished you put the label on your crate 465.

 With the headphones in your ears, you didn’t notice just how much more lively it was. Most of your floormates were in other single dorms with other upper-level students. So you would only really run into a few people if any, daily. With the influx of incoming students moving in, you would easily have trouble avoiding anyone. According to your assistant Mia, every dorm room was filled(yayyyy godolkin for not allowing students to live off campus).

After skipping an array of songs, Spotify somehow thought would suit your style, someone poked you on the shoulder.

“You’re 17#, right? Big fan, honest.”The boy said. Something you noticed everyone said after they wanted to snap a quick picture with someone. You couldn’t complain, though you had no proof this person was lying to you.

“Nice to meet you.” You said and copied the same amount of excitement. The perfect amount to seem genuine but still cool enough to feel above them in that weird way you can only get from social media. You extended your hand, and he shook it eagerly.

You didn't feel that way, of course. That’s just the game and how you needed to perform. All to get where you needed to be. Being a hero was a machine full of moving parts, and Mia has been training you since you were fourteen.

“Can I get a picture?” He asked, and you nodded before he could get the sentence out.

Always…

“Always always…” you answered happily. You quickly adjusted your hair and gave the boy a side hug.

The selfie came out nice. Cute and wholesome. You made sure he tagged you on the picture and used a few of your hashtags. You gazed around, wondering who was assisting him with the move. He just looked around at your bins before looking back up at you.

“Is there anything fragile in there?” He asked awkwardly. It seems he hadn't shaken off the nerves from meeting you. It was so silly to you. You weren’t Homelander or Queen Maeve.

“Yeah, the fragile stuff is in that box right there. Marked fragile in bold red tape…”

The boy then looked back at you with a look you couldn’t place. Before you could even realize what was about to happen, his arms stretched out to unnatural lengths as if he were made of rubber. He lifted all of your bins simultaneously. He wrapped and stacked them into the carts and secured them as if his arms were bungee cords. It was astonishing. You had never seen that power before, and although it was slightly disgusting, it was cool.

Just as you went to pat him on the back, a box on top crashed to the floor. You heard the glass shatter and knew instantly it was the fragile box he so kindly placed on top of everything to avoid it getting crushed. Just my luck. That was definitely the bong in there that you’ve had for a few years. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I've been stretched out all day. Things are starting to fall out.” he apologized genuinely.

“Lemme guess you are usually super tight?”

Your roommate was finished moving all of her things to the other side of the room. It definitely started as a struggle, but after a bit of time, Jordan started to get the hang of it. Early in the process, he was just bitching to himself about having to do this in the first place. He didn't really have anyone to complain about it to. His friends were rooming with each other, and he was the only one stuck rooming with a new person.

 His parents didn't understand his frustrations, and instead, they were just happy he would be rooming with a girl. Jordan tried explaining his irritation to Brink, but that was also a no-go. All Brink did was reframe the situation by saying it could somehow make Jordan a better hero.

“Are there seriously no fucking quads in this place?” Jordan complained to no one.

He sat on his loveseat on his couch and scrolled on his phone. He debated not being in the room when his new roommate arrived. Jordan heard that people had done that, but he was too nervous to do it himself. What if you stole something? What if you wanted to put your stuff on his side? Maybe you were a weird freshman? Or worse, a fan of him?

He sat back on the couch. His feet were planted firmly in front of him, and he scrolled on his phone. It was a position he often found himself in. In this form, his feet were actually able to reach the floor when he sat all the way back on the couch comfortably. In the other one, her feet dangled and gave off a less intimidating look than the one he was currently in.

There was a soft knock on the door. Jordan rolled his eyes and stayed in his position. Why would he open the door? If they were supposed to be moving in, they surely would have a key, right? He looked at his door open. Jordan wasn’t really sure what to expect to be standing in the doorway. 

When the ugly beast finally reared its head, Jordan finally exhaled. He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until you waved at him.

“Hi” You said

It’s all you can offer him at the moment. The little helper you had assisting you barged in soon after you greeted Jordan. Jordan didn't even say anything to you. He just looked at you from his spot on the loveseat then his eyes trailed over to the freshman who couldn’t maintain eye contact with you.

“Looks like! Holy shit Jordan”

“Yeah.” He just nodded, confirming that he was indeed Jordan Li

The freshman stood awkwardly with your things and stared at Jordan. The interaction was just already a lot weirder than it needed to be. So you stood at the door and tried to think of a way to intervene in the impromptu staring contest.

“Thanks. You can just leave it right here. I can do the rest.” You thanked him with a big smile

With another resounding crash, he let go of the bins, and you winced. Jordan even was taken aback by the sound and rolled his eyes

“Are you sure, ma’am?” he asked 

He sounded genuine even though he treated your belongings like they were indestructible. You buffered for a moment and realized what he said

“Ma’am? How old do you think- never mind, just leave thanks.” You shooed him away and exhaled softly

“Bye”

He watched you. You unpacked your things, and he stayed put and just watched you. He was cycling through so many things in his head. Being so last minute, this situation didn't give him any time to prepare. The only thing he did was clean and move his shit to one side of the room. He was grateful that he could at least recognize you from the ranking. The unknown was scary like that. Jordan knows you have been slowly climbing your way to the top. Your reputation was squeaky clean. Your brand was sweet, innocent, and confident. 

Your brand didn't mean he trusted you, though. Anyone with more than two fucking brain cells at this school knew that your ‘brand’ or ‘online presence’ meant absolutely nothing. Just because you waltz in here with your big smile and wave doesn't mean he will let his guard down. Roommate or not, you still had the potential to be a big fucking dick.

“Yeah, just don’t touch any of my shit, and we should be fine.” Jordan said without looking up from his phone.

He sat comfortably slumped on the sofa. The uninterested appearance he’s in pissed you off. Oh, so he’s just like this? You could do this, though. You wouldn’t let him see that you were frustrated. People like him lived off of that shit, and you wouldn’t give him what he wanted. You just nodded and gave him another smile, one real enough to be convincing.

“I understand. You do have some nice things. Probably wouldn’t want anyone getting into it either.” You said in that cheerful voice that you had been trained to perfect. 

That time, Jordan did look at you. He was now thoroughly annoyed and over the roommate situation. In his eyes, he tried. In the twenty minutes you had been in the room, Jordan considered everything he had done ‘trying’. This situation wouldn’t work, though. He just wasn’t built to share rooms with a random person.

-

-

-

Wednesday, September 27th

“Jesus Christ, do you ever fucking fucking knock?!” Jordan shouted

You did knock. You dented the door to your room because you were banging on the door for about ten minutes. You even shot Jordan a few texts saying when you would return to the dorm. Of course, she hadn’t responded to any of them; she never did.

So you said fuck it and broke the lock on your door and walked into the room. Jordan was riding some junior in her bed. The sight wasn’t new to you, so you were unfazed. Seemingly to you, Jordan never really cared about you seeing her naked. It was more of the fact you were interrupting her that was the problem. In the two months you have been rooming with Jordan, you have walked in on her having sex four times.

The first time, it came as a shocker. You squealed and covered your eyes, immediately leaving the room and shooting her a few apology texts. When you left, Jordan just continued on like it was nothing. Like you were just a temporary pause. This time wasn’t like that. You walked in and closed the door behind you.

So you waved at the man who was underneath Jordan on the bed. He looked at you with a confused look, then turned to look back at Jordan, who was bewildered.

“You're not usually my type, but I think I could be down for both of you,” The man said, then looked back up at Jordan curiously.

You just walked toward your desk, sat down, and started up your laptop.

She climbed off him and huffed, “Get out”.

Then the man shuffled awkwardly around the room and tried to pick up his clothes. He slipped the condom off and didn't know what to do with it, so he tried to hand it to Jordan. She pointed towards the door, so he just nodded and held it as he left the room. His clothes were still crumpled in his other hand, covering his dick. You shook your head slightly, knowing that type of thing was far too normalized in this school.

“Do you purposely do that?” Jordan asked you sharply. It was more of an accusation. He barely spoke to you, and when he did, it was always intending to fight.

“Do what?” You asked and logged into the Godolkin portal.

“Wait until I’m using the room to appear out of thin air” She complained and stepped closer to you.

Whenever Jordan spoke to you, it was like they were a nagging little voice that you had to physically restrain yourself from losing your cool with. You didn’t want to risk an argument with Jordan, no matter how much of a bitch she was. It just wasn’t worth it. It would be optimistic to think that Jordan wouldn’t somehow get you lousy press from the situation. It was also optimistic of you to think that one day, Jordan would just stop trying to fight the fact that they would have to live with someone.

Every day you felt like you were seconds from Jordan finally saying fuck it and starting beef with you publicly just to fuck up your rank. Being ranked seventeen wasn’t the best you could be, but to most people, being in the top one hundred was quite an accomplishment. Job security was a hard thing for supes to find, and you weren’t going to fuck up your brand just because Jordan was having a bad day.

“Oh, please. I texted you, Jordan. Multiple times,” It came out with a little more emotion than you intended. Patience wasn’t your strength today.

“You didn’t,” She said flatly.

You huffed and pulled your phone out of your bag. When you pulled up the text chain to show her. You looked away awkwardly when she turned around to grab her phone. For some reason seeing her ass suddenly felt invasive, although she was so chill about it. Once again, she was more pissed about the fact she didn't cum.

“That’s not even my number.” She showed you her Apple ID and rolled your eyes.

“Who’s fault is that?” You asked her this time; your tone couldn’t have been mistaken for anything but annoyed.

Jordan realized what she did and grabbed your phone out of your hand. You scoffed at the action and tried to snatch it back, but she was faster than you. Probably in both forms, unfortunately. Jordan just updated the contact info and handed you back your phone(which you snatched out of her hands immediately).

“You could’ve knocked,” Jordan said, and you did a sharp inhale.

You looked up at her, then back down at your phone at the updated info. It was hard not for you to be pissed about the fact he lied to you. So many arguments could’ve been avoided, but of course, she couldn’t even give you her number.

“I did. For about ten minutes. Maybeyouweretoobusycreamingondicktohearaboutit” 

The words came out as a rushed whisper. The struggle of trying to hold your anger was starting to become not only a mental challenge but a physical one.

“What did you say?”Jordan asked. This time, he almost seemed kind of excited, which didn't help you calm your nerves in the slightest.

“The locks broken, by the way. You locked me out, so I had to break it open. I’ll schedule a maintenance worker to check it out around five,” You told him. The facade was back up. You were no longer spewing attitude at him.

The maintenance request was sent, and Jordan was left confused at the sudden change in demeanor. He was excited for a second that it seemed you finally had a moment of real fucking emotion with him. Jordan would much rather be alone in his dorm, but your unwavering positivity threw him off more than he intended.

Jordan could recall a few times he would complain and rant about you to his friends during smoke seshes. It had only been two months, but he felt like he wasn’t even rooming with a natural person. Something about you was too perfect, too clean, just all around, too bland. He was excited to talk to a person for that quick moment there. It's not the brand you posted for everyone to see. 

He went back to the other side of the room in defeat. He sat on top of his bed. Jordan never stopped looking at you. You slipped up, and maybe that gave him hope(he would never admit it).

“I need the room at five,” Jordan said.

You furrowed your brows and looked over at the calendar on the wall. Each day that passed, scribbled out with a blue Sharpie. You shook your head and looked over at him.

“You have class. It’s Wednesday,” You said matter of factly.

Jordan rolled his eyes and mumbled

.“No, I don’t.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. He could be so petty sometimes for no reason, and this was one of those moments.

“Did you just disagree with me just because?” You asked him.

Jordan couldn’t think of a comeback or words to say. You talked to him in that weirdly positive tone despite clearly being irritated with him again. Maybe his dick twitched a little, but he ignored that.

“Jordan, put some clothes on, okay?” 

“Fuck you”

“Your dick is out”

“Have a great day”

Maintenance fixed the door problem by 5:13 pm. It was a simple fix. A new doorknob was installed, but a couple of dents from your early frustration remained a reminder. Afterward, you were alone in your dorm, struggling to wait forty minutes to join a lecture.

  It was a struggle not to nod off in front of your computer. Online classes always felt like a good idea when you signed up for them, but you soon realized they were a trap. It is a carefully crafted trap for you to waste your time on the course because you couldn't keep your eyes open long enough to listen to your professor drone on about the importance of… You fell asleep.

You needed the relief anyway. It was a struggle to keep holding up the illusions you were. The influx of incoming students fucked you over. Having a roommate who hated you meant you were always using your powers. You couldn’t trust him not to try and ruin your brand. The only times you would have a break from having to cast an illusion was when Jordan was out doing whatever the fuck he did besides training and sulking.

Illusions fell around you—your side of the room that was once pale blue and pink warped into black and purple. Your hair, which once seemed to be tied tightly in a bun, fell around your shoulders. The pink sweater you wore was replaced with a black hoodie you had for years. The illusions you had concealing your tattoos shattered. The ink from your arm sleeve peaked out from the wrist of your hoodie.

-

-

-

“Who are you texting?”Andre asked 

It was late. Jordan sat on the couch in his friends' dorm and tried not to be bitter that there were only three bedrooms. He typed in his phone, angry you weren’t responding. Why does he have to deal with this? He’s pretty sure when he leaves that, all three of them just crash in the living room in a pile like cavepeople anyways. Andre’s room was always too fucking clean for anyone to actually stay in there.

He leaned over on the couch to try and take a peak at Jrdan’s phone. Jordan leaned away, mildly irritated with his friend. Andre just shrugged and made a face at Cate. Cate rolled her eyes, already knowing where this conversation was going to go. It was the only thing Jordan talked about the past couple of weeks.

“My hell of a roommate,” Jordan complained and rolled his eyes.

You hadn’t responded to the last ten texts he sent. He was trying to be better to you. He might've felt a bit guilty about giving you the wrong number for that long. So now he was trying to do what you would have done for him. He planned on bringing the same guy from earlier back over, but you wouldn’t respond to him.

“Oh, she cant be that bad?” Cate said, trying to be positive about the situation.

“Cute, you guys are texting,” Andre whispered.

Jordan heard him, however, and switched. Before Andre had a chance to react, Jordan slapped him in the back of the head. The touch was light but quick. Andre chuckled softly and then raised both of his hands.

“Well, I’m trying to tell her I'm on my way back to the dorm. Might need it in a few,” Jordan explained and put his phone away.

“Why do you look so stressed?” Luke asked.

To be honest, he was the only one not caught up on the whole Jordan hating her roommate thing. He thought she would get over it in a week, but clearly, that wasn’t the case. Jordan still hated you basically for existing at this point. Luke tried to lock in on the situation, but he was still pretty high from the session that just ended.

“She isn’t fucking responding,” Jordan whined.

“It’s fine. It’s only been like ten minutes,” Luke stated.

Luke’s eyes looked around the room for whatever the fuck he was missing. Cate just laughed beside him.

“Since the last text I sent. I texted her five hours ago,” Jordan added, her arms crossed in front of her.

“It’s probably nothing,” Luke assured her, although he didn't understand why the situation was that. 

Serious. Cate understood it, though. Even if, at the time, Jordan didn’t understand, she could have seen it already. Cate had a weird way of just knowing.

“Yeah, what are you so worried about?”Andre asked, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive way.

Jordan looked away and flipped him off. Cate and Andre shared another look, and Jordan wanted to flip the couch over. She didn’t though

“Fuck off, Dre.”

“Who is she again? Freshman?” Cate asked

“No, junior.” Jordan answered.

“Who is it?”Luke asked, hoping that maybe that would explain Jordan’s frustration.

When Jordan answered, none of them had much of a reaction, which wasn’t very satisfying for Jordan. Andre didn’t even know who you were talking about(he didn't pay attention to the rankings much). Cate just nodded, taking in the info. It was always funny to her how the most liked people could be some of the worst. Luke didn't run with Jordan’s opinion of her roommate. He knew how dramatic Jordan could sometimes be, and he was pretty sure she would've hated any roommate she was assigned to just because they were an inconvenience to Jordan.

Jordan didn't like the feeling of being interrogated, so the hangout was cut shorter than normal. Once she answered one question, it was like he opened Pandora’s box of bullshit, and everyone wouldn’t get the spotlight off of her. So, she gave up on reaching out to the guy from earlier and instead was banging on the door of her dorm room like a mad woman.

“Dude, open the fucking door!”Jordan shouted.

He didn't want to break the door again, but the longer he stood outside, the more appealing of an idea it became. Inside the dorm, you were still fast asleep at your desk. The exhaustion from overusing your powers took a severe toll on your body. You had been out cold the entire time. All illusions previously placed on you and your things were deactivated.

“C’mon, this is really petty. Just open up.” Jordan said again, but you couldn’t hear him.

A hard alarm sounded in your ear. You shook your head awkwardly, then scrambled to check your laptop.

Take your pill

You nodded and stood up to take your birth control. You made it three steps before you fell because of the loud bang at your door. Shit. Jordan’s voice yelled something behind the door that you couldn’t quite make out at the moment. All you knew was that you needed to hurry and get all the illusions back up. You waved your hands a bit, trying to tap into Jordan’s psyche once you were confident enough that the illusions were back up, and you dry-swallowed your birth control and made your way to the door.

Act normal

“Hey, sorry I got caught up in studying?” You answered the door with a smile.

“Fine, whatever. I texted you, though.” Jordan looked at you, partially confused

It didn't make sense to him. You went hours without answering him, and your excuse was that you got caught up studying. What the fuck? You didn’t even look tired? Jordan hated you. You closed the door behind him and sat on your bed.

[eiraeths]

do you guys want some of my cod 141 headcanons you’re getting them anyways

SOAP

-puts stuff in his mouth a lot to hold it when he runs out of hands (this includes when he’s making explosives, it stresses everyone out)

-gets cute aggression and bites people

-will also bite in a fight

-has bits and pieces of rubble from explosions that he thought looked pretty

-is feral, like he takes a hit to the face during a spar and grins with blood trickling into his mouth

-had a graffiti phase as a teen that never fully left and because of it he writes in all capital letters. this is great when they need something written down where no one can read it. (the 141 probably had a meeting where they went over how to read his handwriting)

-has dreams so realistic he wakes up confused wondering if it was a memory he forgot about even if it didn’t make sense

-military grade anger issues

-never fully grew out of his punk phase

-his childhood room was full of road signs and traffic cones

-is actually a hardass when it comes to training recruits (i think the proper term for privates in the sas is troopers but im calling them recruits cause that seems to be the term everyone uses)(everyone thought his bright attitude meant that he’s laid back and easygoing. no. he’s not. yall ever seen those videos of drill sergeants coming up with the most creative insults? thats him)

-randomly says “i am normal and can be trusted around military grade weapons”

-his journal from the og games is a must in the remaster sorry i don’t make the rules

GHOST

-can play guitar super fucking well, im talking full on fingerstyle ballads

-major staring problem, if he doesn’t want to talk to someone he’ll stare until they go away. sometimes stares at people for no reason. also stares when he wants something. he’s always watching.

-would be interested in getting into blacksmithing if he didn’t grow up poor and hates spending money on himself that isn’t out of necessity (seriously you need like 30k to start a forge)

-can and will obsess over damascus patterns in blades (i feel like his favorite pattern would be fish bone or those really complicated mosaic patterns. he gets soap into it too by showing him fireball patterns)

-never grew out of echolalia and because of this is amazing at mimicking noises (he mimicks smoke alarm battery low noises and phone chimes to troll people sometimes.)

-road rage, but its quiet fuming comments that make you grip the oh shit handle for dear life (“you better turn off your fucking highbeams or i can’t be blamed for the head on collision that’s about to happen”)(no one can tell if he’s serious or not)

-hates tin foil, hearing it or touching it makes him clench his jaw because it feels like he can feel it in his teeth

-secret sweet tooth, but it comes and goes. sometimes he’s disgusted by anything sweeter than white bread and other times he can fuck up an entire box of lil debbie cakes

-can hand sew efficiently and fast as fuck

-his favorite type of blanket is a heavy quilt

GAZ

-is aggressively hydrated and is one of those people who carry around those big 128 oz water bottles

-gets competitive over karaoke (it took him months to convince everyone to join and he only got the idea after finding out soap wanted to be in a band as a teen and that he spent days learning how to properly vocal fry)

-says WOO! when he’s super fucking excited (will throw his arms up as well if soap is around because the two of them are an echo chamber of emotion)(the WOO! might actually be canon theres a voice line in warzone)

-probably the most up to date on modern fashion trends (get this man a long cashmere coat he deserves it)

-he does own a bedazzled cap he found at a gas station though (it’s hideous)

-elaborate skin care routine (he’s conned everyone to have some sort of routine. especially ghost. he got so concerned when it hit him that ghost was always wearing the eyeblack)

PRICE

-listens to black label society (i won’t budge on this its not even a head canon to me anymore its fact it was revealed to me in a dream)

-plays solitaire (he’s a very high level and it took him less than a year to get there. no one knows where he found the time to play for that long)

-drives a manual and shames people who don’t know how to work a stick

-literature nerd (im talking all the classics and philosophy books this man can get his hands on)

-discovered tennessee moonshine and has thought about it ever since

-smacks people on the back of the head when they’re doing something stupid

-if anyone makes a negative comment on his facial hair he gives them the dirtiest side eye

GEN/MULTI

-gaz and soap carry those big contractor waterproof sharpies and leave gaz was here or soap was here everywhere they go (this stemmed from soap’s graffiti phase and gaz turned it into a competition. they once got into a competition on who could leave the most signs until price called them muppets and confiscated their sharpies)

-ghost put soap in air jail once, it was very effective

-gaz and soap go to the gym together and take photos in the mirrors after they’re done (somewhere there’s a photo of the time they got ghost to join and they even got him to flex an arm)

-ghost and soap are professional assholes to each other.

-none of the 141 are allowed play card games and gamble with each other because they’re all dirty charlatans

-price tried to stop smoking only once and carried around gum and peppermints. ghost stole the peppermints and soap wouldn’t stop asking for gum

-gaz and ghost are the only ones who really try to adhere to the lights out rule. price and soap can be seen drinking coffee throughout the day

-all of them can hold a grudge for life

-ghost clears his throat loudly when any of them smoke by him. or stares. depends on the say

-if any of the smokers see another outside smoking and decides to join them it turns into a drawn out conversation about the most mundane topics

-the 141 can have full conversations of pure sarcasm nons

[kazumist]

EPISODE 9 ♡ ENJOY THE DATE, FUCKERS!

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL — A SCARAMOUCHE SMAU

masterlist / prev ep / next ep

it wasn’t hard for kunikuzushi to spot you. after all, his attention automatically focuses on you no matter where he is.

“hey,” he nonchalantly said as he approached you.

“where’s kazuha?” you asked him.

“he said he forgot that he had an important errand to run, so he ended up passing for today.”

“what about the others?”

“not sure; ask them," he replies.

awkward silence.

“uhm. thanks for the mcdonald’s last night," you quietly said. if kunikuzushi had focused his attention on something else (which technically never happens when he’s with you, no matter how much he denies it), he probably would’ve missed it.

“did you eat the mcflurry yet? if not, then i might ask for a bit," he chuckles.

“well…” you trailed off.

“did you eat everything already?” he asked, surprised.

“i was upset, okay!” you said out of defense.

after a bit more small talk, you suddenly feel your phone vibrate right after your notification sound rings. it was a message to your group chat sent by yanfei and the others. what was the message you may ask? 

sorry, (name) :’) we all decided to head to kazuha’s place instead. along with an attached group picture of the four of them.

it was also followed by an enjoy the date, fuckers! message sent by lyney.

a sigh escapes your lips as you put down your phone. no wonder they were taking so long to arrive.

“well, it seems like the others ditched us. where do we go now?” you asked.

“hmm, we can just stay here if you’d like.”

-

okay, well, maybe hanging out with your ex again isn’t as bad as others would make it seem.

because in truth, things are going very well for both you and kunikuzushi so far! you two talked about random things while sitting on a random park bench, laughed when a kid got hurt in the small playground era (you didn’t want to laugh, but kuni snickered first), and it was as if things didn’t change.

“you had something to do with the others not being here, right?” you accused him all of the sudden. “huh? no, i didn’t.” he raises his hands up as he defends himself.

“oh, really now? how about we ask them?" just as you were about to whip your phone out, he stopped you. “wait, fuck. okay, yeah, i did have something to do with it.” kunikuzushi looked down as he admitted it. deciding to tease him, you replied, “what was that? i couldn’t hear you.”

he groans at your actions. “i said yeah, i had something to do with it. i was worried last night, and that’s why i’m making it up to you now.”

“why didn’t you just tell me yourself?” you asked.

“i thought you wouldn’t go if i did so.”

“hey! i’m not that mean.”

“are you sure about tha—ow!”

if others were to judge the two of you right now, they would think that you two are here at the park together as a couple with the amount of subtle touches, genuine smiles, and heartfelt laughter from the both of you.

then again, if you think about it, nothing really changed between the two of you. everything is still the same, and everything is almost just like it was before, except for the label that would define all of the lingering feelings you and kunikuzushi have left for one another.

taglist (open): @yinyinggie @blue-b3rries @ryuryuryuyurboat @your-local-reblogging-kazoo @lilikags @haliyamori @diorlumx @mamafly @zuunotsane @iloveosamuu @featuredtofu @kana-de @xiaoderrrr @f1orent1ne @alhaitie @yelleloww @brain-r0tt @jamieexistss @danfelions @e0nssadrift @lovemari @kunikissr @chluuvr @lazy-sanns @lxkeeeee @swivy123 @sketcheeee @quacking-simp @tiredslepz @vxcmx @kichiy0shi @yingofthemoon @feiherp @sicut-sol @mayuumine @xiaosoneandonly @xtobefreex @bananasquash @im-the-ruler-here @hiraethhv @yumiaur @oughhhhmamamia @beriiov

[foreingersgod]

Can you write about CC inspired by the song Nobody Gets Me by Sza

Like how your the only one she opens up to and completely trusts

Nobody gets me . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: nobody gets me by sza

A/N: avoided the angsty part of this song cause i feel like i’ve been in too much of an angsty mood LMAO! enjoy loves !

for a while, you and caitlin had an on and off relationship. sometimes you only got together just to hook up, at some point you tried being official for while, but nothing had ever really stuck and you just continued on with your normal back and forth routine. it worked well for the both of you, too busy with school and basketball that you didn’t want to pester each other with means of labeling your relationship. but you found comfort within each other and practically spent every waking moment with one another. to be completely transparent, you’d always had really intense feelings for her, but you didn’t want to ruin such a beautiful thing you had had with her already.

graduation was approaching swiftly, and you found that the two of you were hanging out much less often. cait was dealing with the championship and procrastinating saying her goodbyes to her team. and you were finishing up your studies and internships. when she did come over, though, she was extremely exhausted and distant.

you had sensed that something was bothering her, but you didn’t want to push it. knowing caitlin, she got stressed and overwhelmed about a lot of things and she hardly ever talked about it. when she did speak about what was on her mind she had to do it on her own terms.

on one particular wednesday night, however, she had shown up at your door in tears. a rare scene to behold. you’d never seen her cry unless it was after a huge loss for iow, but even then, it wasn’t like this. she was hiccuping from the sobs, with her face red from running her hands down her face.

“caitlin…hey what’s going on?” she said nothing as you immediately ushered her into your apartment. you got her situated on your couch, telling you’d be just a second and you were going to grab her some tissues and water.

“no!” she cried, grabbing your wrist as you attempted to leave “don’t leave me please”

you sat down next to her, extremely worried. “i won’t, im right here, are you sure you don’t want anything?”

she shook her head violently and collapsed into you. her face hidden somewhere between your neck and shoulder, trying to suppress her sobs. her whole body shook as she continued crying, you rubbed her back and smoothed her hair, trying to calm her down.

“cait, you’re making me nervous, what’s going on?” you urged again.

“i’m so scared, YN” you grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at you.

“of what?”

“of this” you looked at her extremely confused. “of graduating, of moving on, of saying goodbye to the team…”

“cait those are very normal things to be upset about, you shouldn’t have to be scared to continue on this amazing path you’re-” wiping away some of her tears with your thumb, you tired to comfort her before she cut you off abruptly.

“but i’m scared of losing you” her eyes squeezed shut in frustration, so overwhelmed by with these feelings coming out all at once.

“me? what are you talking about?”

“i just-” she tried to steady her breathe “i’ve realized that i haven’t taken this thing we’ve had seriously enough. i-i’ve been thinking about what’s going to happen when we go our separate ways…and i don’t want that YN, i don’t think i can be without you.”

“hey,” you grabbed her hand “i’ll always be here, we’ll still call and text and when you’re in town we can grab lunch! i’m not just gonna stop being your friend, silly!”

“but i don’t want to be your friend!”

you were struck with shock at her statement, completely unaware of where this was all coming from.

“the closer we get to separating from each other, the more i’ve become of aware of how much i’m fucking in love with you”

her eyes were studying your facial features, trying to pull a reaction from you, but you stood completely starstruck.

“nobody gets me like you do,” her voice cracking, close to crying again. “i don’t think i can be away from you. im scared it’s too late and i don’t want to lose what’s left of you..of what we have. and, i’ll be honest, i don’t want to see you with anyone else but me. nobody gets me like you do, im serious. i only like myself when i’m with you”

you felt yourself about to cry too, you had no idea she felt this way.

“you’re the only one i can actually be myself with. and you’re the only person i want to be around every second of the day. and i know it sounds crazy, and i don’t expect you to put everything on hold just because i’m sitting here crying and dropping this huge love bomb on you but i-”

you cut her off, throwing your arms around her shoulders, and pulling her into a gentle kiss. you could feel your tears mix together as you desperately pulled her in closer. after wanting her all to yourself, your feeling were finally reciprocated and it felt like you were on cloud 9.

“i love you, caitlin” you pulled away, smiling “i’m not going to leave you”

“thank you,” she said with her tears finally dried “for loving me, for trusting me, and for staying. i don’t think i could make it without you”

she stayed the night at your place that night. she told you about all the stuff she had kept hidden away when she started becoming distant; she told you about the stress of classes and the team and the draft. everything. she felt like she could stay up all night with you and completely e open up to you because nobody gets her like you do.

[jazminrhode1]

Hey! Just wanted to say 1. i love ur writing, it gives me so much comfort and happy chemicals :D and 2. could you do one with reader being besties with the triplets and if you want, just some ideas that popped in my head- chris being chaotic and shaking soda, opening it and getting in readers eye thus more chaos insuing and/or "tell me im pretty >:(" "you'e pretty fucking annoying". pls don't feel obligated to do so!! <3

You Don't Like Dr Pepper? Sturniolo Triplets x Reader One Shot

Summary: You join the triplets for a soda tasting video.

Word Count: 804 words

Author's note: I literally had no ideas for this one, I'm so sorry! I hope this is okay ❤️

Chris was in a mood. It was 2am and you just wanted to go to bed. But, the boys were filming a video and they claimed that they needed your help.

“Today we’re going to see if we can tell which soda is which,” Nick started the video.

They had covered the cans in duct tape but, under the light, you could still see the colours coming through. Chris had initially thought it was a good idea but, his enthusiasm was waning.

“So we just drink it and say what we think it is?” you asked, less than interested.

“Yes,” Nick said with an eye roll, “this is what I told you Chris, no one wants to see us drink soda.”

You exchanged a look with Matt, he was trying his best not to laugh as he took a sip. “I think it’s Sprite,” Matt said. Nick was done.

“I told you before that there is no clear fucking liquid because that would defeat the fucking point. Do you ever fucking listen?” Nick screamed.

You took Matt by the shoulders and positioned him in front of you to hide yourself from Nick’s wrath. “I forgot,” Matt said as you stifled a laugh in his shoulder blade.

“I think it’s Coke,” Chris said. “I agree,” you replied.

Nick took the lead and placed the drinks by the labels on the table. He didn’t agree with half of the choices but, he wanted it to be over so, he didn’t contest.

Nick passed you one of the cans after he took as sip and said, “Tell me this isn’t Pepsi,”

You took a sip and ran to spit it out in the sink. “This is 100% Dr Pepper,” you said.

Nick’s clapped a hand over his mouth. He was being dramatic and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Do you not like Dr Pepper?” he asked.

“No,” you said - this was something he should know. Chris gasped, Matt’s mouth hung open. “How did you not know that?” you asked.

“You’re crazy,” Nick said as you rolled your eyes. “Are we going with Dr Pepper?” he asked his bothers.

Chris nodded, Matt shrugged. They were getting tired and their energy was fading.

As made your way through the drinks, convinced that they were all wrong, you prayed that the sugar would give you an ounce of energy but, it wasn’t working.

You looked over at Chris and he looked guilty. You didn’t know what he was about to pull out of his hat but, you didn’t want any part of it.

“Are we done?” you asked. Nick was looking around, you could see his temper rising. “Where the fuck is the last can?” he asked.

Chris put the can on the table and slid it over to Nick. “Final can,” he announced to the camera before he opened it. The contents shot out like a burst pipe. It was on the floor, on the ceiling, on the table, on the cabinets, on the walls and all over you.

“Chris!” Nick said. It was enough for Chris to take off running but, Nick grabbed the back of his shirt and stopped him in his tracks.

“Who gave him that?” you asked Nick and Matt. Matt was laughing, handing you a tea towel. Nick’s whacked Chris on the top of his head. “Don’t do shit like that,” he warned.

Chris couldn’t help but laugh. He was pretty fucking proud of himself until he saw Matt checking your eye.

His face dropped, “What happened?” “You got it in her eye, you dumb fucking bitch,” Matt said.

“It’s fine,” you assured Chris but, he felt guilty none the less.

“Are we done?” Nick asked. Before anyone could respond. “We’re done,” he decided.

He stalked around the table trying not to slip. “You look like shit,” Chris joked, nudging your arm.

“This is your fault,” you said, twisting the tea towel and whipping him with it. “Ouch!” he screeched.

You felt sticky and you felt gross. You just wanted to go home and get in the shower asap.

Chris stuck his tongue out jokingly and you pinched it between your fingers. “Hey,” Chris said, “let go.”

“Tell me I’m pretty,” you said jokingly, you could only picture how hideous you looked. You regretted it as soon as you said it. He was not in the mood to play nice, he was in the mood to act like a 5-year-old. His eyes widened with excitement as he took the bait.

“Pretty fucking annoying,” he said before you let go of his tongue and he burst into laughter. A cackle that was at times endearing but, at this moment, it sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

[lunarmoves]

through pixel eyes (chapter one)

pairing: DCA sun/moon/eclipse x reader

mentions: kinitopet/virtual au, gender neutral reader, general creepiness

a/n: ignoring that it's 3am where i am... ch1's finally here! yippee!! ending is rushed but im tired so excuse it LOL pls check out the masterlist for more info on the fic (tags & summary). hope u guys enjoy! :D

word count: 5.3k+

masterlist

ao3 link

Click. Click. Taptap tap tap. Click. 

You chew aimlessly at the bottom of your lip as your mouse roves over to the latest email in your inbox, opening it with another decisive click. Perking up slightly, your eyes skim through its contents, mindful of the zip file attached to it at the top. 

Valued employee, the email reads, thank you again for your decision to assist Fazbear Entertainment in the latest beta testing stages for our developing proprietary technology. Attached is the file you are required to download to begin testing. As always, be mindful of the documentation you have signed previously; a failure to comply will result in immediate termination. Located at the bottom of this email is the submission form you will need to populate each time you conduct a run. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to reply to this email. Have a Faz-errific day! 

You hum and scroll back to the top of the email again so you can look at the attached file. FazPals1.1_DCA.zip, it says. You click the download button, then lean back in your chair as you wait. 

For being such a large company, FazCo has a rather small beta testing team. You suppose it makes sense, though; their technology is so unparalleled that you are sure they’d want to keep information as closed off as possible. Hence why you’d been forced to sign all matters of forms—contracts, an N.D.A., and waivers, of all things—before they’d signed you on. You’re sure they are even more restrictive with their information after the pizzaplex burned down all those years ago. You’re lucky you’d managed to slither your way into their ranks to make the beta team, though you figure it helps that your resume is stacked with experience. 

You are certainly curious as to what they’ve been doing while they parade assurances that the pizzaplex will return “better than ever.” You have a vague idea from your past emails with management as you were being incorporated into the beta testing team—some kind of interactive game of sorts, you think—but they’ve been rather hush-hush about it. Your answer resides in the zip file that’s just finished downloading to your computer. You navigate to your file explorer and begin the extraction process for the files. Luckily, it doesn’t take too long. You scratch idly behind your ear, shifting your headphones a little to rest more comfortably atop your head. 

Okay. File open. Where is the— There! You double click on the FazPals_DCA.exe file to run it and begin installation. A brief glance at the time shows it is a little after six in the evening. You have quite a bit of time before you’ll need to head to bed. You’ll see how far into the program you get before you hit a checkpoint or something. 

You watch as a tiny pink and white bear on the installation window flips a pizza over and over while the progress bar steadily inches its way to full completion. It is oddly hypnotizing. And when the program finally finishes installing, the window closes. An icon of a cool crescent moon tucked into the burning yellow of a sun appears on your desktop and is labeled as FazPals. Nice. Thank you, fast WiFi. Without much preamble, you double click on the icon. 

A small window pops up in the middle of your screen. You glance through the text quickly. 

Welcome to version 1.1 of FazPals, your very own virtual desktop friend based on the hit characters from Fazbear Entertainment's Mega Pizzaplex! They are able to walk, talk, joke, tell stories, give fun facts, adapt, and play games! FazPals are like no other with their innovative adaptive technology! You'll learn from them as they learn from you!

Click the button below if you are ready to meet your new FazPal!

Not what you’d been expecting, but it sounds pretty cool. It reminds you of the Tamagotchis from all those years ago—only with the A.I. of Fazbear-branded technology. Well! No time like the present! You click the ‘Proceed’ button and the window closes. 

In the center of your screen, a small music box appears. It’s an unassuming little thing, wrapped in yellow with a red ribbon crossing over it to tie into a neat bow at the top. A crank awaits your click, so you do just that, watching as it rotates around and around until— Pop! The box opens and something jumps out of it with a flourish and a jingle of bells that echoes through your headset. 

The box disappears and you’re left to stare curiously at the little figure swaying animatedly on your desktop. He seems to look around a bit, then a small dialogue box flashes over his head. But before you can read its contents, the box disappears in a static puff. You cock your head slightly. A glitch, maybe? You file that away for later and instead observe the tiny, taut grin of the program. Your FazPal, or whatever. 

You recognize him from the pizzaplex commercials you’d seen on the television years ago—the Daycare Attendant. A fellow—fellows?—modeled after celestial bodies. You’re looking at the sun, currently, though his design is a bit different from what you remember seeing.

Before you can get a good look at him, however, another dialogue box pops up over his head with text accompanying a voice that chirps into your headset. You are momentarily surprised at the sound; you hadn’t expected FazCo to incorporate their voice module into the program too. 

“Hellooo, New Friend!” Sun exclaims in a slightly pixelated manner—hardly noticeable, really—as he waves a small hand. “My name is Sun, your very own F-FazPal!” There’s a slight glitch on the word that makes his voice deepen slightly, but it passes easily enough. “What’s your name?” 

Following his question, a window labeled ‘Name?’ pops up to his side with a textbox for you to input your answer. Figuring he isn’t going to proceed with his script until you type your answer, you take the moment to properly analyze his design. 

Detached sunrays of white and gold hover around his head, framing bright eyes and an equally as bright smile on a face split into a crescent. He’s rather lithe, with a red sash tied around his waist that’s adorned with small, golden bells. Another bell is tied around his spindly neck with a red ribbon, and those same ribbons are tied around his wrists. His torso is bare and colored in different shades of yellow. Puffy red pants cover his legs—triangularly shaped with sharp lines and edges. They are decorated in a design that reminds you of the circuitry of a motherboard—dissecting lines connected by small circles that start from his waist and make their way down the length of his pants in a trickle. Pointy shoes with little suns on their sides finish the look. 

He is all angles and unforgiving points, with a digitized sort of look to him that fits the whole ‘FazPal’ aesthetic, in your opinion. It’s certainly interesting. You like the futuristic feel to it. 

Pulling yourself back to the present, you type in your name. Sun has his arms crossed behind his back as he waits, swaying gently side to side. You hit enter and the window disappears. 

“Lovely name!” Sun chirps, his rays spinning around his head eagerly that you eye in interest. They look like floating pieces of fractured, stained glass, dainty yet deadly. “I’m sure we are going to be the bestest best friends!” You snort at the declaration. 

“To start our little quest of friendship,” Sun continues on, his head moving towards the dialogue box that pops up near him like he’s looking at it, eyes narrow. It’s honestly difficult to tell with that blank gaze of his. He returns his gaze to the front, where his eyes upturn into little crescents. “Why don’t we get to know each other? Sound good?” 

Another window appears with two simple buttons sitting next to each other under it: A ‘Yes’ and a ‘No’. You click the ‘Yes’ and Sun gives an excited little clap of his hands. It’s cute, in a way. “Wonderful! Okay! To start, what iiisss your favorite color?” The open window closes, then reopens to a textbox again with the new question displayed at the top. You hum and tap your chin thoughtfully, then let your fingers fly across your keyboard as you type the color in. 

You pause, however, before you hit enter and decide to tack on a ‘hbu?’ to your response. If only to satisfy your curiosity and really test the limits of FazCo’s ingenious A.I. Hey, you’re a beta tester—it speaks for itself! 

Sun grins even wider, if possible. “That’s a good one! As for me…” He makes a thinking gesture, eyes narrowing like he’s contemplating it deeply, then brightens up. No, literally. A lightbulb appears over his head for a quick moment. “I like all the colors, it’s so hard to choose just one! Normally, I just say ‘rainbow’!” He makes a little semicircle gesture with his hands around his head. Little pixelated sparkles wink into and out of existence near his fingers before he clasps his hands behind him once more. You’ve got to hand it to FazCo—they certainly know how to add some flair to their characters. “Next question! If you could have any superpower ever, what would it be?”  

You chew at your lip again as you lean back in your chair and ponder his question. Why is it when people ask you these kinds of questions you always blank on the answers? Sun is ever so patient as he waits, moving in that idle animation next to the open window. 

Ah well, it’s not like you’re answering an interview question or anything. You wing it. ‘probably invisibility, or something. hbu?’ And enter. 

“Ooh! Invisibility!” Sun nods like he’s giving his approval. “Good in the right hands! I would want the power to read minds, I think! All the better for making fantastic friends!” 

You make a small sound at that. Well, you suppose that’s one way to make friends, albeit not a very… stable foundation to base a friendship off of. Sun proceeds with his next question. “This one’s a bit of a tough one! What’s your favorite word?” 

‘Tough’ is an understatement. You’re stumped. You rake through your mind for a word and draw up nothing but blanks. You’re certain you have one, but you just cannot think of it at the moment. Shrugging, you type ‘idk. i can't think of one rn, sorry. do u have one?’ 

His head cocks to the side, grin curling at the edges. “That’s more than one word, New Friend!” Sun replies amusedly, then laughs—a loud, tinkering thing that cuts off a bit strangely at its end. “Kidding! I’ll let you off easy for that one!” He is quite good at adapting to your responses, you note lightly. Very intriguing. You wonder how that’s coded. “My favorite word is supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!” You blink in surprise. The dialogue box is barely able to hold the word inside of it. You didn’t quite expect him to say that, of all words, though you guess it makes sense for him. Sun doesn’t elaborate, just transitions merrily through the next part of his script. “Now, for this question, I need you to be as detailed as possible, okay? It is”—he pauses for a second—“essential.” 

You nod, but it’s not like he can see you, so you end up looking like a fool. Sun stares straight ahead and it… it feels a bit like he’s looking directly at you. You shift uneasily in your seat and watch his eyes go dark along with his white rays and wide smile. Abyss-like. Something drops in the pit of your stomach at the abrupt switch. His smile widens. It cracks like he’s on the edge of something hysterical. And when he speaks, it’s in a low, garbled voice that grates at your ears. 

“Where.” He grits out. “Are—” 

He doesn’t get the chance to finish. A glitch encompasses his body that makes his rays twitch erratically and his limbs to jitter about like he’s being electrocuted. You jerk back out of surprise and consider exiting the hell out of the program. But then he’s back to normal like nothing had ever happened. White eyes stare up at you with an equally as white smile. 

“Oh!” Sun exclaims cheerfully, swaying about gently. You’re taken aback and, quite frankly, confused out of your goddamn mind. “Silly me, look at the time! I’m afraid our friendship will have to wait! There’s someone else who’d like to meet you!” 

“What.” You utter the word mindlessly, eyes flicking down to the time on your computer. 6:59 P.M. Time sure did fly by through all of… that. You’re not entirely sure what to think of it. 

“Talk to you soon, New Friend!” Sun waves a hand in farewell, then spins himself around in a little animated tornado. You can only stare, oddly transfixed and still utterly flummoxed, as he spins around, and around, and around until the clock changes to 7:00 P.M. and he slows to an elegant stop. 

Only, it’s not Sun you’re looking at anymore. 

The rays are gone, replaced with a nightcap covering his head that’s adorned with twinkling stars and a little bell at the end. All the yellows have shifted to greys, blues, and blacks, though he still retains the golden bells, red ribbons, and red sash. His pants are a midnight blue with the same circuitry design, and his shoes now have little moons etched into them instead of suns. 

This must be the moon, you conclude once you’re done observing him. The other half to the Daycare Attendant you remember seeing via advertisement—the one who’d been in charge of naptime. 

You watch as Moon seems to look around. You’re not sure what he’s looking at, but you can only wait. Gentle ruby eyes move from your desktop icons to the open window that Sun had been standing next to. His smile turns jagged like the outline of a mountain. And then—

And then he slinks away, disappearing straight off of your monitor without a second look. You’re left staring at the open window, the cursor still blinking in the textbox and awaiting your input. What… just happened? You blink at where he’d disappeared off screen and wait a few moments. But he doesn’t come back. 

What the hell?

Five minutes turns into ten, which turns into fifteen and then twenty, but he truly does not return. You’re stupefied. 

Maybe you should restart the program? You nibble at your lower lip and right click on the FazPals icon so you can end it and then boot it back up again. Your mouse turns into that loading circle of death, and you swear you’re not holding your breath in anticipation or anything, but it sure does feel like it. 

Loading… loading… loading…

…

Nothing. Zip, zilch, nada. Moon does not appear. You groan and scratch at your ear again, shifting your headphones. Day one of testing and you’ve already run into a problem. Great. Well, it wasn’t like you’d expected everything to be smooth sailing. Still annoying, though. Just in case, you try restarting your computer. 

It doesn’t yield any results either, and you end up just watching some videos as you wait to see if the bug will magically fix itself. Spoiler alert, it doesn’t and you eventually give up as the clock ticks closer to midnight.

But well—you think as you slowly pull up the submission form FazCo had sent you for your job to fill out—you suppose this is why the program’s still in the testing phase. It obviously has some kinks that need to be ironed out. Hopefully it’ll get fixed up in the next patch update. Until then, you’ll just have to deal with it. 

A benefit of working from home? You get to set your own schedule. A blessing, at times. 

That unfortunately means you have to stick to it while ensuring you’re properly taking care of yourself, and going outside to get fresh air, and also getting all the necessary work done on time, and also— 

Well, you get the point. 

You wake up groggy the next day and stumble your way out of your room, just barely managing to step over the little Roomba aimlessly bumbling down the small hallway. At one point it was another product you were testing, but then it was given the green flag for mass production and admission to stores. The company let you keep the one they sent you. It was a little finicky, but it worked just fine. You named it Chicken Nugget a while ago—Dr. Nugget for short, because a Roomba with a PhD was just too amusing to pass up. You’re still musing over what area its PhD is in.

There is much to be done. Dishes from last night need to be washed, food needs to be prepared to last you a few days, timesheets need to be filled out before you forget your hours. It’s easy to multitask on household chores while you do your job. You're on the beta testing team for quite a few companies, so you’re kept busy evaluating their programs and products while you julienne onions and clean plates. You earn enough to live comfortably, and it’s all you can ever ask for, really. 

Eventually, after a long day of being a responsible human being and submitting numerous evaluation forms for various applications, you plop down in front of your computer with your headphones and turn it on. Evening has just started to creep in, turning the sky into a picturesque gradient of burnt mandarin and dusty magenta. Your desk is right by a window, so it’s nice to draw the curtains back and let fresh air circulate around the room from it.

Alright, computer on. You type in your password to log in and wait as it finishes booting up. First thing on your list—check your email. There’s nothing of importance, not that you’d expected anything, really. Oh hey, you’ve got a discount code for your next purchase at your favorite pizza store. Sweet. You save it for later. 

All you have to do is test FazCo’s program and then you can relax for the rest of the night. You preemptively open up their submission form and minimize the window, then double click on the FazPals icon. Hopefully you won’t run into any problems. Code is weird like that—working perfectly fine at one moment and doing fuck all the next. And it’s always a pain filling those surveys out when there’s an abundance of bugs and glitches to point out. It’s simple, but oh so tedious. You guess that’s what you’re getting paid for, though. 

Blinking back to attention, you squint at your empty desktop then double click on the FazPals icon again. Ah, there you go. Loading symbol. 

Instead of the little music box like you’d been expecting, Sun comes into view by cartwheeling in from the side of your monitor. It’s silly and you smile slightly as he jumps up to his feet and splays his arms and a leg out wide like he’s about to fall into another cartwheel. 

“New Friend!” he exclaims loudly alongside the text in his dialogue box, rays spinning rapidly about his head in delight. You wince slightly and lower your volume a bit. No need to kill your eardrums. “You’re back! It has been twenty-two hours, nine minutes, and thirty-seven seconds since we last interacted!” 

Your brow raises at his precision, but what else did you expect from a computer program? Sun relaxes into his normal stance and leans forward eagerly. “So! What do you wanna do?” A small, labeled window pops up next to him for you to type in. One of his rays twitches slightly. “For a list of activities I can perform, type ‘/help’!” 

You’ve already forgotten what he can do other than walk around and talk your ear off, so you do just that and the window disappears. You didn’t even have to hit enter. 

Sun beams. “For your present and future reference, I can tell jokes, give fun facts, play games, and storytell! Pick your poison, New Friend!” 

You ponder for a bit, then type ‘can u tell me a fun fact?’ in the new window before it pops out of sight, again before you can press enter. Huh. You make a note of it mentally. The back and forth with the windows is going to take some getting used to. 

“I sure can!” Sun does a little wiggle and stands at full attention with his arms crossed behind his back. “Did you know that neutron stars spin six hundred times per second? Pretty cool!” He seems very cheery today. You’ll have to keep an eye out for any more of that strange glitching from yesterday. “Want another one?” 

Eh, you don’t see why not. You shrug and click the ‘Yes’ button when it appears. Sun gives a little salute. “The most water ever discovered surrounds a black hole about twelve billion lightyears away! It has the equivalent of one hundred and forty trillion times the volume of Earth’s oceans!” You’re starting to see a theme here with his fun facts and it honestly checks out. Sun’s rays spin a little to the right as he tilts his head slightly. “That was two facts in one, technically. Just for you! Don’t tell anyone!!” And then he winks, accompanied by a little star spinning out from his eye. It’s a small detail, but it still makes you smile. Consider you charmed. 

“Alrighty! I have an idea of what we can do next!” Sun says as he skips away to the edge of your monitor. You watch him curiously as he sticks a hand beyond your desktop—somewhere offscreen?—and starts pulling over a large open window from it. Like he’s unraveling a spool of paper. He drags the window over to the center of your screen, then wipes his face with his arm and takes an exaggerated breath. “Phew! That’s heavier than it looks! Luckily, I’ve got these to help me!” He flexes his stick-like arms dramatically, posing this way and that like he’s a pro wrestler. 

You notice, as he poses, that another small window pops up—indistinct and unlabeled this time with a simple textbox for you to type in. But he… didn’t really ask you a question or anything of the sorts for you to respond to? You eye it for a moment, then decide to type a little ‘hi’ in it to see if it’s a bug or something. After waiting a few seconds to see if the window will close again without you hitting enter, nothing really happens. Oh, is it fixed now? You hit enter and the text disappears, but the window stays. You guess it is. Code, man. So finicky. 

Sun stops flexing to shoot you a bright beam with a spin of his rays. “Hello!” 

Okay, maybe it’s not a bug if he can still process your texts. Shrugging it off easily, you turn your attention to the window Sun had pulled over from who-knows-where. It looks like your computer’s Paint app. How did he open that? ‘what’s that for?’ you type into the textbox.  

“This is for us to play some games, silly!” Sun brandishes his hands towards the Paint window like he’s presenting a masterpiece. “How does Tic-Tac-Toe sound?” 

Well, not like you have any other ideas for what to do. ‘sure, let’s play.’ 

“Faz-tastic!” Sun claps his hands, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a comically large wooden pencil from its depths. Seriously, it’s nearly the length of his arm. It’s like something right out of a cartoon and you grin at the silliness. He steps closer to the Paint window and draws four perfectly straight and intersecting lines—each of them the same length and splitting into the same sized boxes and everything. He then draws a perfect circle in one of the corner boxes and steps back. “Your turn!” 

You crack your knuckles and roll your shoulders. Okay. Time to lock in and kick this program’s ass. 

Except you don’t. 

You lose horribly. Seven times in a row, in fact. 

‘r u cheating? ur cheating, aren’t u,’ you type into the open textbox, which had remained in place all throughout your games. Unusual, but you’re not too bothered by it. After you lost the first few rounds, you started complaining to him using it. You figured you might as well. It’s almost like having a conversation with him and you’re pretty impressed by his verbal versatility. 

“Cheating?!” Sun squawks, offended. He splays a hand across his chest as he somehow manages to twirl his giant pencil in his hand like a baton. “A rulebreaker, I am not! I think someone is getting a little grumpy!” He gives you a pointed grin. 

You should have expected you’d lose to fucking A.I. software. You run your tongue over your bottom lip, where you’d been incessantly troubling it with your teeth throughout the rather merciless Tic-Tac-Toe beating you’d just received. You’re considering mentioning in the submission form that the program is too difficult to beat at games, but maybe you’re just that bad at them. Your ego’s definitely going through it.

‘i’m not grumpy,’ you grumble. Sun shakes his little digital head in good mirth, seeing right through you, of course. You switch topics. ‘let’s play something else. got any other games?’ 

“I sure do, Friend!” He uses his pencil eraser to clear the Paint canvas and starts drawing what looks like a game of Hangman. He gives you a sly smile. “Think you’re up for a real challenge?” Cheeky! 

After some rounds of Hangman and Pictionary (which, to your pleasant surprise, you’re not too bad at, but maybe Sun’s taking pity on you), Sun eventually closes the Paint window and makes a show of stretching languidly. “My time’s almost up, I’m afraid!” Sure enough, a quick glance at the time shows it’s nearing seven o’clock. Time flies when you’re having fun. “Make sure to stretch your back and arms out, Friend! Hydration is also important!” 

‘yes boss, u got it, boss,’ you reply before stretching out your arms. You have a water bottle on your desk that you take a quick drink out of, the liquid inside of the insulated material still cool and refreshing. You shiver a little and eye your window still letting the night air into the room. You should close that soon. And maybe turn on the lights so you’re not sitting in the dark illuminated only by your bright screen. 

Naturally, you do neither. Too much work right now.

Sun wiggles a little, then clasps his arms behind his back. “This was fun! I will talk to you tomorrow, Friend!” His grin widens, curling at the edges. “Don’t keep me waiting too long!”

And before you can really process the tone of that, he pulls out a red curtain from somewhere behind him. Shaking it out slightly, he pulls it up in front of him to block your view of his little figure entirely. You raise an eyebrow as the curtain wiggles and protrudes out like he’s changing into new clothes, before eventually it falls down and reveals Moon. His nightcap is pulled down to partially cover his glowing ruby eyes.

You lean forward in your chair, attention instantly grabbed. Will he work properly this time? You consider him for a moment as he simply stands there—sullen and, dare you say, annoyed. His eyes are narrowed and his mouth is pulled into a scowl. He shifts like he wants to move or leave, but something keeps him rooted into the same spot Sun was just in. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his pants (he has pockets??) and he slouches like a puppet cut from its strings.  

He’s not saying anything. Only glares off at a point somewhere on your screen. You bite the inside of your cheek and decide to take one for the (nonexistent) team. 

‘hi moon,’ you type into the textbox that’d remained even after Sun left. Pressing enter, you watch curiously as something tense seems to line Moon’s small shoulders and he moves his glare to the open window instead. 

His head twitches. “Hi,” he replies slowly in a raspy voice. It’s not what you’d expected, low and murmured like he’s speaking to someone in a dark and quiet corner. His gaze darts to the dialogue box that pops up next to his head and seems to narrow even farther. 

Oookay. He doesn’t say anything else. Is he still bugged or is he just programmed to be much quieter than Sun? You’re not sure if that makes sense for this type of program, though. You try to nudge the conversation again, thinking back to the list of commands Sun gave you earlier. ‘can u tell me a joke?’ 

Moon seems to look at you and it’s just as creepy as it had been when Sun did it. His scowl deepens. “No.”

You’re taken aback. No? Oh. Well. Maybe you should try something else? ‘can u tell me a fun fact?’ At least you know this command works for certain.

“No.” 

It’s like pulling teeth over here. 

You’re determined, however. This is your entire job. ‘what about a story?’

“No.” Moon bares knife-like teeth at you in aggravation and you’re tempted to do the same thing back. He doesn’t want to do anything! Something is definitely… off. You make a note of it to include in the submission form later. At least he hasn’t left your screen. You’ll take the win where you can. 

You’re stumped on what to do. The only thing you can think of is to keep inputting commands until something gives. Maybe things will sort themselves out? You try asking for a fun fact or joke again, but Moon still just scowls and answers in that same clipped manner. His fidgeting seems to increase. 

You’re getting close to calling it quits. ‘why don’t we play a game or something? tic-tac-toe?’

“P-Persistent little thing,” Moon growls into your headset and it’s such a reprieve from the constant rejections that you’re not even offended. You perk up slightly only to deflate at his following words. “Didn’t anyone teach you that ‘no’ means no?” 

‘no,’ you type as a response—partly in annoyance and partly just to be snarky. Moon twitches again, and then in the blink of an eye—he glitches. 

Similar to Sun, it spreads down his body in a wave and makes him jitter until he snaps back into place like a rubber band. He flexes his hands and takes a step to the side—tentative and exploratory. The window with the textbox pops out of existence and Moon gives you one final, narrowed glare before he just… leaves offscreen. Again. What the fuck?

You scrub a hand down your face and groan. You don’t expect him to return, but just in case you wait around a little and kill some time by filling out the submission form. Name, program version, strengths, encountered issues, and so on. You submit the form when you finish and roll your shoulders. Yeah, he doesn’t come back. At least there was some progress compared to yesterday. 

You end the day with a final squint at the FazPals icon and a shrug of your shoulders. Things could be worse, you suppose as you power off your computer and stare at your reflection through the dark screen of your monitor. Hopefully tomorrow brings more improvement. 

part two

[ivanzplaid]

I saw those praise headcanons and it reminded me of an idea I’ve been sitting on for awhile.

A male reader who brings up the idea of spanking to Lawrence Gordon, Peter Strahm, Patrick Bateman, and Bo Sinclair.

The readers kinda shy and nervous about it too. I’ve just been sitting on this brain rot for awhile and I wanted to share it.

-📼

LOVE YOU CASSETTE ANON YES OF COURSE. i love when yall share the brainrot with me because when i see these requests i literally jump with joy, share all ur thoughts with me i love this idea sm😭😭😭 these characters are perfect too because we have a nice mix between stern and classy to rough hungry and im literally screaming running around thinking about this THANK YOUUU. also im labeling this group as slashers even though all dont fall under the category, its just easier this way

my progress got deleted halfway thru bo's section so im so sorry if its sloppy i was just fedddd up w tumblr

requests are open, masterlist is up!!

Slashers x M!reader + Introducing Spanking | Headcanons

Warnings: nsfw undercut, dirty talk, man handling, praise & degradation, caring!lawrence & bo (but also some mean!dom! energy.. just how its gotta be), dom!slashers, sub!reader, punishments, we all expected mean!patrick lets be real here

Lawrence Gordon

lawrence loves to hear any ideas you have, he thinks its healthy to share new ideas and experiences with eachother. yet he also gets a slight suspicion that youre holding out on him the next time youre in the bedroom, he knows you well and can memorize your body language, so when he sees you avoiding eye contact and talking in a hushed or awkward manner, he wants to know whats going through your mind

he'll lay down and have your head on his chest while he plays/pats your hair, trying to ease you into saying it, snd is pleasantly surprised with your answer

"Tell me whats wrong darling, speak to me."

"I was thinking.. maybe we could, try something new? We don't have to do this if you don't want to, its fine, but, could we try spanking?"

his eyes meet yours and he sees how reluctant you were to telling him. as his hands find your chin, angling it up to meet his eyes, he smiles and says sure, whatever will give you a better experience is something hes willing to try

he thinks its funny how nervous you were, since hes open about a lot of things. hes a stern and classy dom, utilizing punishments and keeping himself composed a lot, he likes to see how youre such a mess when hes commanding over you, how his slight touch and gaze make you whimper

loves to see your vulnerability, he wants to see you exposed and at his will, he wants you to be vocal for him and show him how much you love it, it fuels his ego and reassures that he isnt doing anything wrong (because in the end hes still lawrence, and he cares about you more than his own life)

will mock you as he does it, it is a punishment after all. loves to see how obedient or defiant you are during and after, he likes to make you seem pathetic for your reactions

"What? Can't take it? Oh but handsome we just started.."

will have you count how many times he does it, he wants to hear your voice sputter and moan, it will get him hard and he will use it against you ( using it as an excuse to fuck you hard, saying that "he couldnt resist your lewd and obscene moans" )

loves to force you to look at him as he does it, he wants to see that pretty face of yours, whether you cry, whine, or try to hide your face

does that thing where every time you squirm or move on him, he chuckles darkly saying "Oh Baby, you're making it so hard for me to not hold you down right now.. and just show you some fucking manners.."

he is seconds away from making you cockwarm him as he laughs at your attempts to get off. he will overstimulate you by slowly stroking your dick and then going "ah-ah-ah.. you have to stay still, its still a punishment"

he loves to stroke or pat your hair as he spanks you, he loves to feel you flinch as he inflicts pain. after he does it, he'll rub your tender spots and say how well you took them, and how pretty you sounded as you did (or, if you were bratty, how depraved and pathetic of a sight you were)

he'll take such good care of you, giving you proper aftercare and everything, but for now, hes got you ass up, displayed nice and neat for him

Patrick Bateman

hes more than excited you are, as he is more into impact play/things along that line. he just loves to see how your body contorts to his advances and how his fingers just gently gliding across your ass make you whine, both from how tender it is and because his touch is so gentle you need it

he also thinks its hilarious that you were nervous about asking, because hes a pretty dominant/open man, hes into some kinky shit, and hes not afraid to talk about it.

he will mock you about being nervous, then taunt you with that fact, making the experience all the more exciting/intense, just as he'd prefer. he will rub your face softly and say how delicate and precious you look, and say that this for the better, then begin spanking you

"Darling-Darling.. don't cry now. I'm not even close to being finished."

his voice is always smooth and calm, which coupled with his confident exterior, is terrible for you. he will stroke you and play with your ass while he spanks you. putting a cockring around your dick if he knows youre getting too close to cumming when he spanks and teases you, he needs you to be ready for him after, when he has you gripping at the bedsheets while he fucks and degrades you

is honestly a slight menace when it comes to things like this, he'll talk you through the spanking snd make sure that youre whiny and rubbing up against him for more, he gets off by seeing the physical effects of his work, making him hard asl

"Good Boy.. thats right, take what I give you.."

likes for you to make eye contact, and will grip your chin just to face him so he can see your face give out a pathetic moan (may even take a photo.. just for safe keeping)

and he will be mean about that, asking if his personal slut couldnt take what he asked. in a mocking tone he'll say if he should go lighter next time, or if you like it hard since you moaned his name the entire time

will have you suck his dick after, because he thinks you enjoyed it too much, and if he did all that for you, he should get something in return. but dont worry, he'll guide you and say how your mouth was meant for his cock and his cock only, and how well you take him, especially after how sore you are

he notices you staying off/putting less pressure on your ass as you suck him off, and it makes him proud. the whole kink makes him proud, because hes happy to see his hand prints on you, knowing that his gorgeous boyfriend took it, and thanked him after for it, thats his art

i wouldnt be shocked if he had some handcuffs or toys.. he experiments and he pulls hoes so. but because of this, he may incorporate some bondage in and handcuff your wrists/ankles to the bedposts, having your stomach on the bed, and then deliver the spanking there.. he likes to see the cuffs rattle and your body shake

would obviously have you count as he spanks you, not because hes tryna be classy like lawrence, but because he knows you cant, and likes to hear your voice die out the moment he starts, and he will go on and on, having you count to the 10's, 20's, and if he thinks youve deserved it, 30's

"C'mon sweetheart.. don't stop counting. What number am I on?"

aftercare is exquisite, taking absth and applying some nice little lotion, just so he can abuse you the same the day after

Bo Sinclair

hes also a bit of a rough yet concerned man. he wants to try this out, because it lets out his sadistic side a bit more, but if he could get lost in the pleasure he gets from it, or, if he hears genuine pain from you, he gets anxious. he'd never want to actually hurt you, but if you give him the go ahead, he indulges in it. something about seeing you like prey under him makes him go nuts

is like an animal when he loses control, he will make you cry, he eants to see you beg for him to keep going (or for him to stop), he wants to see how much he can break you before your all fucked out beneath him

he lowkey likes having control and dominance over another guy, it really boosts his ego, definitely some uncovered trauma but either way, seeing you whimper from what he gives you gives him a massive hard on

will ask you teasing snd taunting questions just to get you to cry out and squirm. sayin something like "Are you likin' it doll? Or should I just stop and leave ya all needin' for me.."

please moan his name, because he will not only spank you harder, and rub where the tender spots are, but after he will lay down, have you sit on his dick and shove himself inside of you as hard as he can. hes gonna show you a reward you get for sayin his name all pretty like that

he loves to put you into doggy style and spank you as he fucks you, its his favorite thing for easy access

he also loves to objectify you, using nicknames like "pet, toy, doll, etc."

"Ah ah.. look at me, keep your eyes on me sweets. It's not that hard." he says this as he literally pounds the shit out of your ass, gripping your chin so that you cant look away

speaking of this, he loves to force you to look at him. he cannot get enough of it. he wants to see your every move, every way you contort, and every sound you make, because he needs your reactions

he wants you to touch snd to grab him while he spanks you. him imagining you gripping his thighs or having you sucking him off will result in a spank of encouragement, his little treat. he loves it, he wants to feel you on him

also loves overstimulation while spanking you.. find his hands wandering and stroking your dick, or massaging your ass while he spanks you to increase your pleasure

out of the bedroom he continues this behavior. if youre in his shop helping him, he'll tap your ass before squeezing it, loving how shocked you get at his roughness in public

"Theres my little pet.. takin' this spanking all too well.. almost like you want me to make your ass more tender than it is!"

loves to ask you rhetorical questions to tease and taunt you. he wants to see you get all worked up over his nothing, his voice lingering in your ears to belittle you. he'd ask "oh sweets.. was that too hard? would you want me to be nicer? cause that pathetic moan you let out tells me a different story.."

is all for having you be loud and proud with your cries, god knows he gets loud, whether its dirt talk, grunting, or even a deeper growl, he does it, so he wants to hesr all those pretty sounds you have for him

he really loves to have you beg for him, something about having you so needy that you cannot restrain yourself makes him lose it. he wants you to cry, whine, beg, or stutter his name and beg for whatever he'll give you. because after that, hes fucking you so hard jnto the bedsheets, having you grip onto them with no signs of stopping. and trust that every plead is another spank, with him going "oh.. my dirt little toy loves it when I use their body snd treat them like the pathetic slut they are?"

is all for rubbing your tender spots and seeing your body jump from the feel of his calloused fingers running over you. he sometimes intentionally slaps the same soot because he needs to hear that lewd moan come from your mouth that makes him so hard

Peter Strahm

now he is a very stressed pent up man, he doesnt have a lot of outlets, so when his boyfriend introduces the idea, he looks into it for a bit before acting on it, hes not a really kinky guy

however, once he figures everything out, hes all for it. he finds a way to express his frustration sexually, seeing you under him as he fucks into you, moaning for his touch, it is therapeutic for him

he loves how his rings add a bit of a sting when they spank you, he loves how the specific marks on them show up and how you whimper, and honestly he loves to hold you down when he does it

the control he finally feels is a much different type of control than what he has at work. this control is stress free, he doesnt feel like he has a weight on his shoulders from conditions or cases he isnt meeting. he feels totally, and indescribably in power, and it turns him on so much more

hes never really experimented with kinks before, so expect him to find a new type of bliss with this. hes going to be as into this as you are, stroking your cheek with his pointer finger as he pleases both you and him

is more into praise than degradation, loves to say how pretty and sweet his boyfriend is. "My good little boy is taking it so well.. you cant get enough of me."

really loves to have you facing towards a mirror while he does it, he wants to see your face and he wants you to see how you look. having his dick slide in and out of you, your moaning face unnable to form any sentences, seeing his hand come up, only to roughly come down on your ass while he says how perfect you look

wants the verbal affirmation of how good it feels, he gets off on how he knows that hes doing good, that you cant help but tell him how good it feels

"There he is.. thats my boy. Thats right, take it, youre doing so well."

wants to have his hands all over you when he fucks and spanks you. on your thighs, on your shoulders, on your hips, or even spreading your ass to get the perfect view for his work

this section is so short im so sorry but it literally got deleted after i SAVED it so i gave up a little😭

thinks the way that you squirm when he holds your hips down/chokes you is hot, he loves to feel you moving and struggling for more against him