#couldn’t pass up bringing back a classic

[fertilizing-daffodils]

*technically it’s almost three but whatevs. Honestly, I don’t feel out of control of my life for once. I’m just manic and enjoying my new stand mixer and dnd cookbook. :P

[thejujvtsupost]

Collar Crimes Part 1 -> Ease A Heavy Soul

This is honestly just self indulgent, the requests I have left are more long form content and I have a section for that in the guidelines of my pinned, just keep that in mind if you haven’t seen yours come up yet. I gotta be able to feel it out before I give it a shot. Anyway think of this as an opener to a new little series <3

Notes: F!reader, yakuza!Geto, fluffy, reader is a sleepy type of gf & soft girl- think Sanrio/hello kitty aesthetic? heartwarming, no dialogue for this part, mention of violence(blood), Geto is so soft for his girl -> gets filthy in later parts.

The stress of being head of the Yakuza wasn’t foreign to Geto.

What was foreign, was coming back to his penthouse apartment to a girlfriend.

And his penthouse apartment was no longer his, it was your shared home. You were impossible to say no to, and now the place he furnished with top of the line luxuries and various other signs of wealth; was riddled with cutesy soft things.

The leather couch he spent an obscene amount of money on and had custom made for his living area? Covered in the softest pink blankets, fluffy pillows, several large stuffed animals that he thought you might like (you did). The bookshelves that once held “big fancy classics”, now sported knick knacks and some of your own college texts. The remotes had glow in the dark silicone covers on them, there was a new plush area rug… you were everywhere he looked.

His bed had even more of you, from more of your blankets to the scent of your perfume. You had a side of the bed, and a nightstand with its own lamp to match his.

There was even a nightlight plugged in on the far wall, fairy lights were tacked up by the headboard. No, of course you weren’t afraid of the dark, in fact maybe he’s the one afraid. He’s the one that bought a cute nightlight after all.

He bought it after the first time you spent the night at his place and he woke up to you huddled up in his bathroom with the overhead light on. He didn’t bring it up or chastise you, he simply brought you back to bed and cracked the bathroom door so it wasn’t so dark. The next night you slept over there was a bear and stars themed nightlight plugged in. Three more have joined the collection around the apartment since you officially moved in. That shitty apartment of yours had gotten broken into way too many times.

You were everywhere and he wouldn’t deny that you made everything feel okay. When he walked through the door he let through the gentle parts of his heart and gave every single one of them to you.

He loved it.

So yeah, he couldn’t deny you anything. Not when you were so perfect, loving and adorable in every way. And you were doing your very best as a college student, he was so proud of you. You studied so hard to get to where you are now.

(He just spoils you constantly and you’ve never actually asked him for anything.)

Coming home to you is a breath of fresh air.

Tonight was no different. He walked in, took off his shoes and jacket, and found you passed out on the couch- swallowed by your many soft blankets.

Oh his little songbird…

Turning off the tv and extra lights you left on, he was careful when he excavated your body from the pile of softness and picked you up to take you to bed. You didn’t want to let go of him when he tried setting you down though; he missed your hand clutching his shirt in your sleep.

So fucking cute…

Geto pried your fist away slowly and got you settled, then disappeared into the connected bathroom to wash the blood and grime from the day down the drain.

It’s not his blood of course.

You knew what he was, what he did; but he was the sweetest person (to you, you were the exception) you’d ever met. You didn’t ask questions when he came home covered in blood or was stuck ‘working’ all hours into the night. As long as he texted you when he could to give you a heads up it was good enough for you. It was better this way, you didn’t need details and he didn’t want to give them.

To him, that world has no business involving you. It had no business tainting the life you lived with him, safe in the comfort of your home.

Coming out in clean boxers to sleep in, he dropped his dirty clothes in the basket. Thats when you greeted him with a sleepy smile. You were sitting up and waiting for him to come to bed, excited to see him but still so tired.

Your smile was returned easily and he slid into bed, not a second of hesitation passed when he pulled you down close to him and kissed your lips, then head.

You took your rightful place, sleeping on his chest. Having the weight of your body pressed against his and your head over his heart eased his stress away in waves until he was as boneless and relaxed as you.

You were safe, both physically in your home and as a haven for him- the one person who was privy to his very soul.

• <- Index -> Next

Thinking about making a request? Check my bio to see if they’re open! <3

[cameronspecial]

I know we’re pass Halloween but I’ve had an idea.

Drew smut (only if your comfortable) where he and reader as a cute matching costume like Flynn and Rapunzel or daphne and Fred from scooby doo and they go to a party with all the cast members and he just can’t keep his hands to himself.

So when they finally get home they get freaky lol on the island in the kitchen and he lifts up her dress/skirt cause he can’t wait anymore and it’s so hot but cute.

Drewbie Doo, Where Are You?

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: DARK SMUT and Swearing.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.6K

Masterlist

Y/N loves costume parties and dressing up for them. She always goes all out for them, coming up with creative spins on classic costumes. Like right now, Y/N and Drew are dressed up as Daphne and Fred, but with the twist that they are both serial killers. The idea came to her mind as she was looking through different costume inspirations and she saw a couple dressed as Ghostface and one of his victims. The girl’s white dress is stained red with the red handprint of her boyfriend and the idea stuck to Y/N. She knew Drew wanted to dress as Daphne and Fred, so she decided they could combine their two wants. This is how she finds herself giggling while Drew covers his hand in the fake blood she bought from the costume store. His hand rounds her body and brings it down to her bum. He gives her ass cheek a squeeze, causing her to let out a yip in surprise. He smirks down at her and brings his bloody hand to her cheek to smear some red on it. His hand brings her lips to his. They pull apart from each other and look at themselves in the mirror. 

The red of his handprint stands out against her purple long-sleeved dress, which she admires with a little wiggle of her butt. He lets out a chuckle at her action, giving her a small spank. She jumps forward a little bit and giggles, “Come on, we are going to be late for the party.” “Darling, I don’t know if we are going to make it to Madeline’s party with how your ass is brandishing my handprint on it. It shows everyone that you are mine,” he growls, pulling her in by the green scarf around her neck. She steps out of his reach and picks up her fake knife, “As much as I would love to stay home and let you fuck me. Madeline will kill us if we skip out on her party.” 

——

Everyone’s costumes looked stunning. Madison is wearing a fairy costume and Madeline appears to be dressed for the 1950s. Rudy seems to be the back half of a cow and Y/N can only guess that Elaine is the front half. Chase is dressed as Woody while JD is Buzz Lightyear. She spots Carlacia dressed as Barbie, talking to someone Y/N doesn’t recognize. Seeing other people’s costumes is one of Y/N’s favourite things about dress-up events. Squeals pull Y/N out of her observations and she turns her head to see Madeline running towards them. “You guys look so good, but you are late,” she scolds, twirling Y/N around to admire the costume. “You naughty girl. Is that Drew’s handprint?” Y/N’s head bows down and Drew brings her to his side by her waist. “Damn, right, it’s my handprint. Who else do you think it is?” he grumbles, resting his hand back down to her bum where the print is. 

“God, you are so possessive of her. Now, I know why you guys were late. You guys were probably having sex,” Madeline comments. “She wouldn’t let me,” he whispers under his breath as Madeline goes off to greet more guests. Y/N swats Drew’s chest, “Really? Did you have to say that?” 

——

Drew couldn’t keep his hands off of Y/N throughout the night. As she talks to the various castmates, Drew’s hands roam around her body, leaving a trail of fake blood all over her purple dress. He begs her to go home, whispering in her ear all the naughty things he wants to do with her. The final straw that breaks the camel's back is when she is standing in the kitchen and she is pouring herself a drink. Drew comes up from behind her, the strain of his dick pressing perfectly into the dip of her buttcrack. “Feel what you do to me, Darling? I could be making you feel so good right now,” he mutters into her ear. His hand moves up to her breast, staining the fabric of her dress as he cups it. She takes his wrist into hers and drags him out of Madeline’s house. 

——

They close the door in a frenzied kiss. It only gets locked when Drew begrudgingly pulls away from her. She is about to make her way to their bedroom, but he stops her by grabbing her wrist and bringing her to his chest. She lets him waddle them to the kitchen, where he pushes her hips into the counter. One of his hands keeps her pushed into the surface and his other goes to pull off the ascot from his neck. He takes both of her wrists in one hand, tying them together with his orange scarf. He shoves her back down onto the counter, so her elbows meet the cold granite and her wrists are in front of her. Drew's mouth meets the shell of her ear, “See if you had let us leave earlier in the night,  then you would have gotten sweet and passionate Drew. The Drew that lets you cum. But since you didn’t, you are going to take what I give you like the good little slut you are.”

She has to stop herself from moaning out at his words and the way his front is pressing up against her back. She knows her noise will only darken his mood if she lets them out without his permission. He knows she secretly loves it when he gets this way. Foreplay is not an option as he just needs to feel her walls close in around his dick. He unbuttons his pants and tugs his pants down just enough so he can pull himself out of his briefs. He doesn’t even wait to take her clothes off. He lifts the bottom of her dress just enough so that he can rip her thong off of her. She lets out a quiet gasp at the feeling of her underwear being torn off. 

He shushes her, kissing the back of her neck which is exposed by her hair falling to one shoulder. His tip finds her pussy and he gives her no time to process it before he slams into her. She can’t adjust to his size because he begins his harsh thrusts at an unforgiving pace. Luckily, she is already wet enough from their party antics to lessen the friction. She tries her best to keep quiet as he brings his dick in and out of her. “Go on, Darling. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel,” Drew orders, pulling at the scarf around her neck so that her back presses against his chest. She obeys his command, crying out about how much she loves his cock. His pace keeps going and she feels like he is trying to fuck her into the kitchen island. His lips find their way to her neck. He nibbles a hickey on her skin, loving the melody coming out of her mouth. He can feel her tightened walls around him. He lets out a low laugh, “Tell me you're sorry for not letting us stay home. Tell me we should’ve stayed home and let me fuck you like a good girl. And then maybe I’ll let you cum.” 

His hips have stopped moving and he is still inside of her while he waits for her pleas. She tries to bring his hand up to her throat, but she forgets her hands are tied. He smirks down at her attempts and brings his big hands around her throat, squeezing gently around it. Knowing he will love to hear her breathy voice, she calls out, “I’m sorry for being a whore and not letting us stay home because I wanted everyone to see me in my slutty costume. I’m sorry you didn’t let you have sex with me sooner.” 

His dick twitches inside of her at her words and he knows he doesn’t have long to make her climax before him. His forceful thrust picks up again and the hand around her neck goes to her clit. He starts rubbing her bud in quick circles. Her moans and his groans mix with the slapping of their skin and they are slowly being brought to the edge. Her bound hands reach above her to the other side of the island, so she has something to grip as her pussy swallows Drew in a tighter hold. She orgasms with a scream of his name and he follows soon after her. His cum shoots into her in ropes as he fucks her through their high. He collapses onto her, smushing her breasts against the granite. His head falls to wear he bites a hickey into her skin and kisses up and down her neck. His hands reach up to untie his orange scarf from her wrist. She brings her wrist over her shoulder so he can kiss the forming bruises. He slowly slips his flaccid penis out of her, bringing her up to stand straight. She turns around in his arms and rests her head on his chest. The thump of his heartbeat starts to slow down. 

His lips find her temple, “I hope I wasn’t too hard on you, Darling. I know you didn’t use our safeword, but I didn’t even eat you out first.” She shakes her head against him and kisses the exposed part of his chest. “No, Baby. It was perfect. Like you,” she mumbles, still a little groggy from her release. His fingers run through her hair, “Good. I love you, Darling.”

“I love you too, Baby.”

Taglist: @loves0phelia

[hxney-lemcn]

Lovefool — Connor x gn! reader

summery: Connor tries to impress you, and it works <3

tw: none

a/n: Guys, the fav artist I mention might be a reference to Will Wood, no I won't shut up about him.

wc: 0.6k

Master List

It was a passing comment, something you didn’t think twice about. You were rambling to your friend, Connor, about some of your favorite songs and artists. Even before his deviancy he’d come to you with questions. At the time, you seemed to be one of the only people to treat him with some basic human decency, and a friendship was born. And you found someone you could finally ramble to, as when you’d bring something up, Connor would question it and you’d fall into the ramblings of topics you love. 

This time, it was about one of your favorite artists, and the reason why you believed you loved their music so much was because he played piano. And then that fell into you realizing that you found people who play piano were hot. You didn’t even notice the intense stare Connor held, or how his led spun yellow at the information. Just continued to talk about how much you loved that one musician.

You really didn’t think Connor would take that comment to heart. That he’d download programs that would teach him how to play the piano. Then proceed to learn a few pieces of music, some classical, some from your favorite artist. 

So when you walked through the mall with Connor by your side, you didn’t really question anything. Looking through windows to see if you were interested in anything. Occasionally asking Connor if he found anything, secretly wanting to buy him something. You stopped, watching as a piano played itself. People and androids alike walked past, not taking a second glance, but you couldn’t help but appreciate the waltz that was currently playing. You followed Connor curiously as he took a seat at the bench before the piano. 

“You know how to play?” You asked, watching intently as his fingers rested over the piano keys. His synthetic skin pulled away from his hands as he interfaced with the piano, and the waltz stopped playing. 

“Yes,” Connor nodded, glancing at me. “This will be my first time playing though.”

Before you could ask anymore questions, the familiar sound of your favorite song started playing. You felt your heart rate increase. You didn’t want to assume…but it was pretty hard not to. Why did he learn to play piano? And he said this was his first time playing, and it just happened to be a song from the artist you were gushing about not too long ago…

Oh…

You felt your heart stutter. Was this something to do with your offhand comment? That you found people who play piano to be attractive? You watched as his fingers brushed over the ivory keys, skillfully playing a tune you knew by heart. 

So far your theory wasn’t wrong. But this perhaps may be a bit of a cheat since you found Connor attractive from the beginning. You watched as his eyes stared at the nonexistent music sheets, perhaps he can view it with his HUD. You felt entranced as he continued to…serenade you? Was that the right term? Well, if that’s what he was out to do it was working real well. 

When he finished the last note, I clapped as loud as I could, cheering for him. I didn’t even realize the small crowd that gathered until they applauded with me.

“That was amazing Connor!” I exclaimed, wrapping my arms around his back as he tried to look at me. “Why the sudden interest?” You just wanted to make sure your conclusion was correct. 

“I, uh, you mentioned you found people who played the piano to be intriguing,” Connor slightly stuttered. 

You couldn’t stop the smirk that fit over your lips as you sat next to Connor, his eyes boring through your own, “I think I said a bit more than that.” You admired the blue tint that worked over Connor’s cheeks, the cool color contrasting well against his pale freckled skin. 

“Are you…” Connor trailed, unable to finish his question. A part of you wanted to play innocent, make him finish the question. But you decided to be merciful today.

“Yes,” You replied, leaning over and placing a kiss on his cheek.

[cryptictongues]

To Kiss is to Hunger

pairing: Joshua Rosfield x Fem!Reader rating: Mature word count: 5.0K summary: You are terrified to kiss Joshua. Joshua has an idea to remedy that.

warnings: practice kissing, grinding, touching, intimacy, mutual pining, insecurities and self-doubt, just straight up romance

Author’s Notes: Ngl I know I said it would be a little frisky, but just so happens I made it just a little bit friskier because Joshua is just a touch starved man. Just a heads up, please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

You couldn’t fathom why you are in the Shelves this late into the night. ‘It’s silly.” You think, walking around, trying to find anything to help you with your little dilemma. You tried to put your brain to rest, to calm its ravenous thoughts of anxiety, but the efforts were futile. And it is all because a teasing strawberry blond tried to kiss you.

You and the young Lord got quite close after his arrival to the Hideaway. You help out as a barmaid for Molly in the Ale House, and the first night of Joshua being out of the infirmary after the fall of Drake’s Tail had been all the talk. You would overhear conversations about how charming he was, how he was very knowledgeable about the lands of Valisthea, and how he is the brother of the leader of the Hideaway. He piqued your curiosity, as most newcomers do, but you didn’t think anything to come of it.

There was one night, however, where service wasn’t off its rig, and you had decided to take that time to practice your reading. Reading and writing are forbidden practices for Branded, and you were only able to learn reading due to old, scribbled writings thrown into the trash bins. You would rummage through for every written scrap in the dead of night and return it before your enslavers came to. To you, it was a piece to the puzzle of your freedom. But only a piece. 

You were reading an old children’s fairytale: a prince in search of the long-lost princess who searched day and night to find her. You were immersed, so much so you hadn’t noticed the presence in front of you, seemingly still but present all the same. 

“Ah, I read that story many times as a child. A true classic.”

Your head had snapped so far back you thought you would’ve fallen backwards. Your eyes jumped until they landed on the man before you, and you remember how wonderstruck you felt. He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, and the way he was looking at you had your stomach producing butterflies. You felt a sense of embarrassment, however, as the book you were reading was adapted for children. You knew those born with a silver spoon were highly educated, so to have someone as handsome and surely intelligent as he watching you read made you nervous to be a laughing stock. 

“Yeah, but it’s more of a watered down version of it. I’m sure I’ll get to read the original someday.” You had awkwardly explained, waiting for him to make a joke of your lack of ability to read at a level that matched your maturity. That joke, however, never came. He stayed and asked you questions, such as who your favorite character was, what your favorite part of the story was, and so on. That conversation led beyond the book, and it is a fond memory of the golden boy.

It wasn’t long after that he offered to tutor you and made an extraordinary effort to give you books about topics you liked. Hell, he would even bring books back from long expeditions that him, Clive, and Jill would go on. “I found this story about sea fairies that I thought you would like.” “I saw a merchant selling a copy of this book I think you’ll enjoy.” “This book made me think of you.”

After many nights and days passing, it had become apparent that your heart had let him in, and you were relieved to know that his heart blazed for you also. However, unlike you, he is very evident about how he shows his feelings for you. He initiated the first hand holding, the first embrace, every tender moment you both have shared has been started by him. It makes you nervous, he makes you nervous, but in a conflicting way because you want everything he has to offer, yet your life of being treated less than for so long has put in the fear of not being enough. You fear you will misstep, embarrass yourself, he will realize he can have someone better, and let you down gently. He is a gentleman, after all.

All of the insecurities and doubts you hold have led you to the shelves due to this past evening's events.

-

A gathering of many members of the Hideaway was taking place, enjoying each other’s company, exchanging stories from the road, and eating and drinking so good that spirits were at an all time high. About halfway through the evening, Joshua and Clive had returned from their mission that had kept them away for well over a week, and joined everyone in the festivities. You could feel Joshua’s eyes on you constantly as you worked, soft gazes in your direction as you brought over more ale. You hadn’t seen each other since he had left, and you could see from the look in his eyes that he wanted you close, longing for your time. 

And you weren’t the only one to sense it.

“Go on.” You heard Molly speak as you polished the cups.

“Hmmm?” You turned to see her smirking at you, nudging her head in the direction of the young Rosfield. 

“You are free of your duties. You spend some time with everyone, especially you know who.” 

You shook your head, your cheeks flushed. “I appreciate it, but Molly there is a lot to clean up. I can’t ask you to do this all by yourself.”

“Nonsense.” She scoffed, walking to you, taking the scrub and cup out of your hands, only to set them aside to grab your own. “We all deserve a little down time. Please, I insist.”

You hesitated, and her eyes softened. “In these troubling times, every moment counts; for anything can happen at any time. We must be selfish with our time.” 

That alone had set you into motion. You had walked over to sit beside him, hip to hip, his arm draped around your side with his head leaning slightly against your own as Clive shared his and his brother’s adventures. 

You could tell Joshua was more touchy than normal, not that you minded. You would feel him squeeze you from time to time. If you shifted slightly, he would adjust so you were still close to him. You would feel him turn his head to bury his face into your hair, gentle caresses of his lips against your scalp. No words were spoken between the two of you, just enjoying the night together with everyone. But even nights like these had to end. 

You called it a night, telling everyone that you were going to head to the bed chambers, but not before Joshua insisted on walking you there. The two of you had bid goodnight to the others, and with your hand in Joshua’s grasp, the two of you walked to the bed chambers, small talk between the two of you as you both headed there slowly.  

“I can’t believe you let Clive do that.” You giggled, Joshua’s story about his older brother shoving a carrot into his mouth to make him sick. 

“He had reason, for we were in an unfortunate situation. We needed a reason to slip away.” Joshua grimaced, vaguely remembering the taste of the raw carrot. “Besides, I have always had a soft spot for my brother. I’d do anything for him.”

“I know having him back in your life has been a gift.” You smiled, waving his arm back and forth as you both approached the bed chambers. He pulled your arm back gently, causing you to turn into his arms. The way he was looking at you left you speechless; a thousand words being spoken through one look. 

“Why yes, it has truly been a gift by the Founder to be reunited with my brother.” He brings your hand up to his chest, right above his heart; the thumping gingerly warming up your palm. “It has also been a gift to have the honor of being allowed your time, my lady.”

You shook your head, but before you could’ve said anything, Joshua had spoken once more. “On the topic of gifts, I have something for you.” 

He slipped his free hand into the large pouch of his belt and pulled out what you can see is a book. He placed the book in both of your hands, grazing them before allowing you to inspect it. You recognized the artistry of the book: hardbound leather, intricate gold lining, and a sturdy weight in your hand. You looked at the title and you found yourself releasing a shaky breath. 

“I thought you said there were no more copies.” You whispered, in disbelief as to what you were seeing. Enchanting thy Fair Maiden. It was a copy of a book Joshua has praised over. He would recite lines to you from what he memorized as a child, and you would ask him to retell them to you over and over again, never tiring from hearing his smooth voice telling you a tale.

“It took some bartering, but it was worth it if it means I could grant you a copy.” 

Snapping from your mind, you looked to him, shaking your head in disbelief. “Joshua, I can’t accept this. This is one of your favorite stories. You should keep it.” 

You tried pushing the book back into Joshua’s, but not before him grasping both of your hands and gently pushing it back into your vicinity. “My lady.” He begged. “I can reassure you that nothing would please me more than you accepting this gift.”

You stayed silent for a moment, a brief pause in the timeline aside from you and him, before smiling shyly, looking away from him in a flush. “I will cherish this for all days, Joshua. Maybe you can read it to me properly sometime.”

“Anything for you, dearest.” 

Your gaze stayed down, not knowing how to bid farewell for the night, before you felt Joshua’s hand lightly touch your cheek, lifting your face for him to look upon. You sensed a certain hesitancy, his eyes seeking for something on your face before landing back on your own. 

“May I try something?” 

Everything started to go slow and fast at the same time, your mind racing and hyper focusing on every detail. You focused on how much closer Joshua had gotten to you, how his body heat had your body melting tenfold, how his face leaned down to yours, his hand stroking your cheek. You realized what he was asking to do: he was asking to kiss you.

Sudden flashes of self-doubt came crashing down onto you, Joshua’s hand on your branded cheek making you feel self-conscious. What is he doing? How can he want to kiss me? Oh, Greagor be with me, I have never kissed anyone. I am going to make a fool of myself!

Out of reflex and fear, you stepped back and away from Joshua’s reach. He looked startled, not expecting your reaction, and all you could do was stare at him as you calmed your heart down. You felt embarrassment shudder down your spine, but you knew that it would have been worse if you had attempted to kiss him. 

You tried to shrug it off, chuckling awkwardly as if that would erase the last few seconds of shame you felt. “It is late. I’m afraid I must turn in. Goodnight, Joshua.” 

You flung the chamber door open and closed it just as fast without a glance in Joshua’s direction, your back hitting the wood as you worked your anxieties down.

Now you’ve really done it stupid stupid STUPID!

-

So here you are, looking for a kissing manual that doesn’t exist.

“I can’t believe it has come to this.” You moan, shaking your head at how pathetic you currently feel. You want to kiss him; of course you want to kiss him! But the thought of kissing him and making a complete fool out of yourself has strung itself high in your head. You will do anything to ease your anxieties, and if finding literature that will help you is the way, then so be it. 

You keep searching the shelves, and finally you see something that catches your attention. You see a book with a deep red spine, and immediately you become curious. Red means romance which maybe means kissing, right? you think and go to reach for it, your tippy toes giving you an extra inch that helps you grab the old spine of the book. Once the book is grasped, you give it a once over and what you see is nothing at all. The book has no title, no author, no nothing. Just hardbound leather that looks as if it had been dyed with blood. 

You move to sit at a table, the kissing debacle hiding in the back of your skull as a new curiosity peeks. You stare at the book intently, like it was going to open up for you to tell you all of its secrets. A book with no visible identity, no mark.

The curiosity killed the cat as you finally flipped it open, the crackle of the pages singing, showing its age. The first few pages are barren with no offering until you reach the first official page. You read, smiling because you can read everything on the page in comprehension, but also because it’s a love poem. You never have had the chance to read poetry thus far, so this was a treat for you. Just the thing I need to ease my mind.

You continue reading the poems, most being about love, companionship, and things in the realm of romance. As you read them, you picture Joshua and yourself, like the two of you were living in the reality of this book full of lovely prose. In a way, it makes you recognize that maybe what Joshua sees in you is what you are imagining right now: a lover, a partner for life. You feel a sense of confidence swell in you, so you read on, addicted to the words written out.

Until you get to the next page.

What you read next halts your breathing, slowing it down to stop fire from growing in your chest. This poem is about the same things previously stated, love, romance, companionship, but in a much more intimate form. The words strung together formed the most erotic sentences, words of longing for the senses. They make you blush hotly; they make you antsy in your chair while locked in, but most especially they make your mind run wild with fantasies of you and him. 

Oh, you and him.

You mind wanders as you read, zoning out into a reality where you exude the confidence to give into Joshua’s desires and more. The words dig into your skin, warming you up that your thin nightgown felt like plenty of layers on this cool night. You are so immersed that you don’t hear the large doors open, and the calling of your name feels like a figment of your imagination. It’s not until you feel the warmth on your shoulders that you are brought back, feeling like a bucket of cold water has been dropped over your head from the cold sweat.

You slam the book shut, turning so quickly that the room starts to spin before the warmth on your shoulders grows firm, steadying you in your seat. You look to see Joshua staring at you, worry showing on his face seemingly from your reaction. “I deeply apologize, my lady. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

You breathe a chuckle, seeing him here at a time like this would be your luck. You cross your arms, becoming extremely aware of your lack of clothing under his gaze. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same of you.” He retorts and pulls out a chair to sit facing you. “Truthfully, I couldn’t sleep much. I came here to see if doing more research would tire me, but it seems fate has chosen a more direct route to my restlessness.”

You see why he can’t sleep, and sigh because this is from your doing. “Joshua, you have nothing to fret over. You did nothing wrong.”

“But I’m afraid you are wrong, my lady. I shouldn’t have been so forward, and to know I put you in an uncomfortable position upsets me greatly. I would never dream of making you uneasy, and for my mishaps I must apologize to you. I cannot bear the thought of you keeping your distance because of my foolishness.” 

You watch him as he apologizes for his directness, which internally makes you laugh because that isn’t the issue. You love his directness, just as he is being direct with you right now. It’s you. It’s your cowardice for wanting something more and not having the courage to pursue because of the what ifs, the buts, the howevers. It’s your fear of rejection because of your lived experiences. It’s you, not him. 

“Joshua.” You state, moving to grab his hands within your own. “You did nothing wrong.”

“My lady, please I-” 

“Shhh,” you hush. “Let me speak.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, and I apologize for making you feel you need to.” You exhale, preparing to open yourself up for display. “It’s all me. I’m inexperienced, and I’ve been viewed as nothing for so long that I’m fearful that one misstep will set you away; that you can have someone who knows what they are doing and have the confidence to show for it.”

“Is that really what this is about?” Joshua asks.

You nod, looking down at the two of your intertwined hands. You see Joshua’s hands pull away from yours and your breath shakes. This is it. He is going to leave. That’s until you feel the heat that only the Phoenix could exude on your cheeks, your head being brought up to see him smiling. “My dearest,” Joshua whispers, as if talking any louder would damn him. “You are my everything, for you have captured me: mind, body, and soul. Also, your inexperience mirrors mine, I can assure you.”

Your eyes widen. “There is no way that can be true. You are a Lord.”

He’s laughing now, shaking his head as his hands go back to you, grasping them with care. “I was only a child then. Besides, the Undying were very protective of me under their care. There was no time nor place for such things. Even then, the only person that was always allowed in my vicinity was Jote, and we have never viewed each other romantically.”

“So, there really has been no one?” You whisper, your mind stuck between disbelief and credence.

“No. Not until now.” He squeezes your hands. “My heart belongs to you, and you alone. There is no one else I’d rather give myself to.”

You shiver, the idea of experiencing forms of intimacy together for the first time spreads a raging fire in your stomach. “You sure have a way with words, Joshua Rosfield.”

“You can thank all of the romance novels I read in my youth.” He chuckles. “Speaking of books, what were you reading?”

“What?” You ask, forgetting about the erotica sitting inches away from you. 

“The book you were reading. I don’t believe I have read that one yet. May I take a look?” 

You are panicking, knowing the contents of the book and who is asking to take a peek. You go to grab it, reacting as fast as you could, but alas you reacted too late. Joshua now has the book, opening the page you had left off on, and starts to read. You see his eyes go wide, his pupils dilating, his fingers fidgeting against the page he is holding. You freak out, going to reach for the book before he reads further. “Okay Joshua, that’s enough.” A smile creeps up slowly on his face, humming as he moves to stand up before your fingertips touch the book, backing away slowly as he continues. You stand up, walking up to him to get that god forsaken book away from him. 

“Oh Joshua, please give me back the book!” You panic. 

“By the Founder, what possessed you to read this smut?” Joshua smirks, seamlessly avoiding your grabby hands as he reads the pages. “Especially in the middle of the night?”

He wasn’t meant to see this! He wasn’t meant to see you reading the abhorrent words you were consuming. He wasn’t meant to see you like this in your flimsy gown. Damn me! Why did I not cover up more?!

“To taste the lips is to be fulfilled, for the instinct of man is to claim, conquer, and revel in the midst of her flesh. To kiss is to hunger, to feast among the softest of petals that call to him, beckoning for his return to get both of their fills.”

You are internally screaming now. You can’t believe he is tormenting you like this. You are still reaching for the book, desperate for this nightmare to end, before you hear an “oomph” as Joshua’s back collides into one of the shelves. You snatch the book from him, running back to put it back where it came from. “Okay, enough please!”

“Forgive me.” Joshua says, although it is said with a devilish grin. “I just didn’t know you had such… exquisite taste.”

“I didn’t even know what was in the book when I pulled it.” You say defensively, hands waving manically in front of you like they would make you more convincing. “I was just trying to find something that would help give me the courage.”

As if that isn’t as embarrassing, or even more so.

“What if we do something that helps us both gain courage? A practice session if you will.” Joshua says from the other side of the room, keeping his distance to see what tone you will take.

“What do you have in mind?” You draw out nervously, twiddling your thumbs in anticipation.

Joshua walks back over to where you both had sat, moving the chair so it was facing you before sitting down. He rubs his thighs a little as if he needed to warm them up, before patting his lap. “Come take a seat.”

Instinct has you taking a step forward before a hitch finds itself in your feet, stopping them all together. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks sincerely.

“Of course, I do.” You quickly blurt out, as if answering a second later would draw doubt. 

He smiles, his hand reaching out to invite you over. “Then please, my dearest, come to me.”

You take a deep breath and walk over till you stand before him. You grasp his hand, tingles running up your arm as he pulls you to him and guides you onto his lap. Your hands move to steady yourself on his shoulders, while he places his hands on your lower back to support you. Your legs dangle on either side of the chair, your gown riding up your thighs which you are all too aware of. However, you note that Joshua is only looking at you, gauging to see where your head is. “Is this okay, my lady?”

“Mhmm.” You hum, trying to calm your rapid heart. This is so intimate, too intimate, but you want it. You want him. You want to create every kind of intimacy with him, and this is a start. You knew that it is time to take that leap, especially since he will take that leap with you. 

“Joshua,” you murmur, eyes still on his. “Will you kiss me?”

“As you wish, my love.” 

You close your eyes, leaning in slightly to show that you aren’t backing out. You feel one of Joshua’s hands move to your left cheek, your branded cheek, tracing it with his thumb gently. Soon you feel him move forward, his forehead sitting against yours, his breath hitting your lips in puffs. The anticipation was killing you, your hands squeezing his shoulders to urge him on, and before you know it his lips are against your own. The kiss is light, a sweet peck before pulling away slightly, only to go back to give one more. You both are testing the waters, giving into each other slowly until the two of you start to grow peckish.

The kiss is gradual, pecks graduating to long lip locks and more movement. Your hands have found homage in Joshua’s hair, gripping not too hard but enough to show him how much you are enjoying him. His hands found their way to the crease of your hips, gripping the flesh to keep you in place. You can feel yourself growing restless, needing more of him within your senses. 

It’s like he can read your mind as his hands bring your body closer. A gasp leaves your lips as his groin settles against your heat, leaving your head spinning. His kisses become feverish, his hands roaming up and down your thighs, your nightgown receding higher in the process. You sense satiability is nowhere in sight, the movements of his body proving to you that the absence of intimate touch has turned him into a depraved man. Because even though Joshua Rosfield is a gentleman with a heart of selflessness, he is still a man with selfish desires and needs.

Your hands go back to grip at his shoulders, trying to calm yourself from his ministrations. A wetness hits your lips, and your mouth opens willingly, needing to taste him further. Your tongues melt together, creating a unique taste between the two of you that’s so addicting you don’t know how either of you will stop. You lean more into him, your hands going back to his hair to control his movements, causing him to groan in the most sinful way. You pull away, giggling knowing you got him to make such pretty sounds. The confidence from it goes straight to your head, going right back in for his lips to have him make more delicious sounds. 

A deep feral groan is released from Joshua’s throat, causing him to pull away in heavy breaths. He looks at you with hazy eyes, smiling deliriously. “You will be the death of me, my love.”

Your hands are now trailing from his hair to his chest, your hands running up and down the fabric of his tunic, feeling the toned body beneath it all. Your head leans back against his forehead, both of your breaths heavy on each other’s lips. “Then shall death keep us together, never parted.”

Joshua leans up back to your lips, kissing you hungrily, your declaration causing him to hunger for more. You still had the high ground, you being on top giving you more opportunity to take the lead. You knew this could be too soon, a little risky, but your sureness that Joshua feels the same hunger as you do is enough to convince you. You start to grind down slowly on top of him, your undergarments and his matching tunic pants the only barriers. 

“Fuck,” Joshua draws out breathless, his arms coming up to wrap around you to ground himself. 

“Does that feel good, my Lord?” You smile, feeling over the moon that you are making him act this way. 

“You have no idea.” Joshua gasps. “You have turned me into a new man.”

You giggle as you continue your movements. “Is that so?”

“By the Founder, yes!” He groans loudly at a particular movement of your hips. “How about I show you.”

Suddenly you are being lifted up, your butt settled onto a hard surface, legs spread apart by Joshua’s hips, and warm lips ravishing your own. Your nightgown is definitely way past your legs now, bunched up at your hips with Joshua’s hands right under the fabric. This new side of Joshua has you addicted, the push and pull the both of you are playing at exciting you more. You release his lips and lean up to his neck, nipping at the skin at the juncture of his neck and jaw. His breath hitches, leaning into you as you nip and kiss his neck. It’s as if he is hypnotized by your love bites, casting a spell on him. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to you, but in an instant everything stops.

You open your eyes to see Joshua breathing hard, his hands gripping the table. Your hands go to his face, worry etching into your brain. “Darling, did I do something wrong?”

Joshua laughs, his eyes opening to look right back at you. “Absolutely not.” His hands go to yours on his face, holding onto each one as he brings them down. “I just don’t want to accomplish everything in one night, especially here in the Shelves.”

He pulls you up to your feet, your hands still in his as he looks at you with the brightest smile on his face. “I want to have time to savor you when the time is right.”

Even after all of that, he is still ever the gentleman. 

“I agree. I’m sorry if I went too far.” You chuckle, a tinge of embarrassment in your tone. 

Joshua embraces you, his head tucked into your neck. “You have nothing to apologize for. I hope you don’t think I had ulterior motives.”

“Never,” you say quickly, squeezing him to you.

“We should head back to our respective beds before people notice we’ve disappeared.” Joshua hums.

You hum in agreement and pull back, so you are now under Joshua’s arm. Both of you head out the doors of the Shelves into the cool night air. You shiver, and Joshua brings you in closer to shield you from the cold. He walks you back to the bed chambers, and before he departs, he places a light kiss on your lips, causing your eyes to flutter close at the bliss you feel in the moment. 

“Goodnight, my dearest. I shall see you in the morning.” Joshua says after he pulls away.

“Goodnight, Joshua. But before you go, may I request something?” 

“Anything for you, my dearest.” 

“Can we practice some more later? You are my tutor after all.” And my lover, my partner for life.

Joshua beams at you. “I would love nothing more.”

[themidnightcrimson]

little pill (part 2) ࿏ wm

summary: in which you get revenge on wanda for putting libido pills in your drink.

words: 4.8K

warnings: top!wanda, drugging, dubcon/noncon, face riding, bondage/restraints, strap-on, size kink, vibrator, overstimulation, forced orgasm, wanda being so chaotically feral

this post is for 18+ only. minors: dni.

masterlist. | part 1.

Your revenge on Wanda had to be carefully planned and meticulously executed.

Dating a woman who can read minds and has an extraordinary sense of intuition made these little feats harder than usual. It shamed you how easily she’d slipped that pill to you, how easily she’d wound you up and had you foaming at the mouth for her like some sort of feral animal. Of course, Wanda reveled in it and never failed to bring it up every other day since it happened. You knew you couldn’t act too brash—if you’d tried to mimic her prank too soon, it would still be too fresh in her mind and limit your chances of getting by with it without her knowing. So, you waited.

As the months passed and Wanda seemed to forget about the little incursion, you planned your revenge. You’d managed to find the same libido pill that Wanda had used on you in her little witchy trickery. You went to the nearest store that sold it after a day of work, kept it hidden in a secret pocket of your purse when you got home and Wanda greeted you with a kiss, trying your absolute hardest to not think of the sex pills burning in your purse pocket in fear that Wanda would hear your thoughts. Out of respect, she didn’t invade your mental privacy at will, but if she got the sense of something being off, she would do what she could to figure you out.

Relief and adrenaline passed over you when Wanda let you go without questioning, and you stored the pills away in a place in the house where Wanda would not find them.

Figuring out when and how to slip Wanda the pills was the hard part. Would you crush it up and put it in her drink, the classic way? How would you do this without her noticing? Surely, she would sense your anxiety and thrill and understand what was happening, and you had a vague idea of what the punishment would be if she did.

With a lack of creativity, you decided to just go the traditional route and crush up the pills one night that you and Wanda were having wine after dinner.

“Red, please,” Wanda said from the couch, her eyes glued on the television screen. She was watching one of her favorite new shows, and you were grateful that would capture all her attention.

As you pulled two wine glasses down from the cabinets in the kitchen, you peered around to lay your eyes on Wanda in the living room. She was paying not a single ounce of attention to you. You popped a new bottle of wine and poured equal amounts into both glasses, and then decided to use the glass on your right as Wanda’s so that would be the one you hand to her first. Taking one last measured look at Wanda who was still staring at the TV, you reached into your pocket and took the little bag of crushed pills and swiftly emptied it into her glass, swirling it around with your finger and hoping that the wine didn’t look muddied. You were glad she chose red wine.

You nearly sucked your wine-stained finger clean until you realized it had been swirling around the powder, opting to wipe it off on the handtowel instead. Carefully taking Wanda’s glass in your right hand and yours in the other, you made your way into the living room trying to wrangle your pounding heart and cool your skin that burned in excitement. Wanda didn’t even look at you as you appeared in front of her and handed her the glass in your right hand.

“Thank you, baby,” she murmured as she took the glass, leaning her head around you so she could see the TV. You mumbled a welcoming reply as you sat back down beside her, your hands nearly shaking as you brought your glass to your lips. It made you feel embarrassed to know how easily and smoothly Wanda had done it to you, but here you were trying to restrain yourself from just blurting out what you had done. You wiped your face discreetly, feeling the skin hot under your touch.

Glancing at Wanda from the corner of your eyes, you watched as she brought the wine glass to her lips and took a tiny sip, licking the red liquid from her lips and sucking her cheeks inward as she moved her tongue around the inside of her mouth. Did she taste something off? Were the pills not crushed up enough?

When she only laughed at something on TV, you silently exhaled in relief and turned away, lest she catch you staring at her and wonder what’s up. You tried to quiet your thoughts and focus on the TV show as you both sipped your wine slowly.

By the time Wanda’s glass was empty and discarded on the side table, nothing had happened yet. She hadn’t even spoken to you except for a few comments on the show. You wondered if you didn’t use enough or if she had undermined your plan, and you felt stupid for thinking Wanda would be so easily fooled.

But after a few minutes of silence, Wanda started fidgeting where she sat beside you on the couch. She moved around a bit, her eyebrows creasing together in a sign of discomfort. You watched discreetly, sipping on the last half of your wine. She was acting like she couldn’t sit comfortably, until finally she decided on sitting halfway on her side, leaning towards you. You were leaning the other way, your feet propped up beside you on the couch. Her eyes flickered down to your legs, your ankle exposed by your short-cut sweatpants. She placed her palm over your ankle and rubbed it a little before leaving it there, turning her eyes back to the TV.

It wasn’t unusual for Wanda to grace little touches on you like that at random moments, but she was chewing her lip and the number 11 was forming between her brows. Her hand felt warm and clammy on your cool ankle, her thumb grazing over the bulbous bone every once in a while.

By the time you’d finished your wine and set it to the side, Wanda huffed and turned away from the TV to look at you. Acting confused, you turned to meet her gaze. She was smiling a little, pink lips curled on the ends, but there was a shimmery glaze over her softened eyes.

“What?” you asked with a nervous laugh, and now that she was staring right at you with her full attention, you began to grow paranoid that she’d figured out what you’d done. If she allowed even one peek into your nervous thoughts in that moment, she would know.

But she didn’t. She just hummed and crawled towards you on the couch, settling herself between your body and the back cushion. It was a tight hold, both of your bodies squished on the couch, and you were worried you would slip off the cushions with how close you were to the edge, but Wanda nestled her arm around your middle and pulled you back into her so tight you could hardly breathe. She loosened, giving you a chaste kiss on the cheek before she returned to looking at the TV.

Your tongue anxiously explored the back of your teeth as you tried hard to breathe normally, to think normally, to not give her any indication that you were guilty. Wanda seemed placated for a moment, before she unlatched her arm around you so that she could run her hand down your hips and thigh.

“You look so pretty,” she murmured, and you felt her nose into your hair and inhale your scent. It tickled, so you giggled and squirmed, but her arm latched back around you and pulled you tight against her so that you’d be still.

Wanda pulled your hair away from your neck with her other hand and leaned forward so that she could press her lips there. It was just a kiss, a normal kiss at first, but a gasp left your throat when she suddenly sunk her teeth into your skin.

“Wanda,” you breathed, giving a nervous chuckle as she started to bite and kiss all up the side of your neck, her hand grabbing your hips and pulling you backwards into her. The TV show was long gone from her mind now.

“Baby,” she groaned, urging her hips into your ass as her grip on your hip grew tighter. “Let’s go to bed.”

It would be too easy if you gave her what she wanted right away. “Don’t you wanna finish the new episode?”

She looked back up at the TV with hesitation before she shook her head, leaning back down to attach her lips to the underside of your jaw. “Nuh uh.” Her other arm slipped under your arm, her hand coming up to latch softly around your throat, her thumb pushing your chin upwards and to the side so she could kiss your neck more freely. “Let’s go.”

“Well,” you began, feeling your body grow warm against her body that felt a thousand degrees hotter than normal. “I wanna finish the episode.”

Groaning, Wanda dug her hand into your side and bit your neck again, harder this time. You didn’t have time to whimper before she dove her hand up your shirt, reaching around and under to grab roughly at your breasts. “Please,” she whispered against your ear before kissing it. “I want you.”

Breathing shakily, you felt her grope at your breasts and pinch your nipples which had already hardened for her. Her touch was eager and impatient, and within a few moments she slipped her hand back down the expanse of your tummy and pushed it down your pants, roughly parting your thighs so she could grope at your core.

“Wanda,” you breathed, overwhelmed with the suddenness of her actions. She was usually slow to startle, always taking ample time to wind you up before she ever did something so direct. You started to realize that the pills were working.

“I want your pussy,” she whispered in a half-grunt and half-whimper, licking a hot line up your neck with her tongue as her hand massaged your clit from over your panties. You tried your hardest to just stare at the TV, to deny her the way she denied you, but it was difficult with her hand rubbing you between your legs, with her body pressed flush against yours, with her mouth trying to leave no inch of your neck unstained by her lips.

“Wanda, just wait,” you said as firmly as you could, though you felt yourself throbbing from her touch and growing wetter by the second. You tried to pull her hand out of your pants, but the muscles in her arm felt like iron and wouldn’t budge. She’d never felt that strong and unyielding before. You started to squirm to get away, but realized she’d effectively trapped you with one arm crossing over your body to reach between your legs, and the other arm wrapped under you and holding you by the throat.

“Detka,” she whispered, starting to shamelessly hump your ass that was pressed to her crotch. With the hand on your throat, she jerked your face to turn towards her, diving forwards to catch your lips with hers in a deep, hot kiss. She moaned against your lips as she dove her tongue into your mouth and fiercely explored it, her hand between your legs rubbing your clit harder. It was all too much, the way she was moaning, touching you, and humping you with utter, desperate need that had sprung out of nowhere. Her body felt like it was made of burning coal, making you grow uncomfortably hot trapped against it. You could even feel her nipples bursting through her braless shirt and rubbing against your upper back.

Losing oxygen, you twisted your face away from her kiss and sharply inhaled, but she only kept her lips at the corner of your mouth, kissing sloppily. “Wanda, please, slow down.”

Suddenly, her hand between your legs stilled, her hips stopped gyrating against you, and her mouth froze against your face. She pulled her face away, jerking yours back to face her with her hand on your throat.

You stared up at her; her wide, frenzied pupils; her puffy, reddened lips that were parted from the heavy breaths she breathed through them; her face that was flushed a deep shade of pink. Her darkened eyes started searching all over your face, and you tried to turn your head away from her stare, but her hand kept your jaw locked forward. Nervousness sprung in the pit of your belly, and as hard as you tried, you couldn’t reel in your thoughts.

“What have you done?” Wanda panted in a serious tone, and you noticed a gleam of sweat at the top of her forehead. She looked like she had just got done running a mile. You’d never seen her so worked up before.

“Nothing,” you tried to say as coolly innocent as possible, but your voice came out in a shriveled squeak.

Her eyes squinted a little as they ran all over your face, before finally they focused on your eyes, staring right into yours. Fear filled you as the familiar feeling of your thoughts being read seeped into the confines of your mind, that subtle glow of red that hovered around your vision, evidence of her touch. You watched the number 11 between her eyebrows slowly fade, her face changing in realization—and then it deepened into a darker shade of red.

“Wanda—” you began, wanting to explain yourself and tell her it was just a joke, just the same prank she had done to you. But she wasn’t having it.

She climbed out of the spot where she had nestled between you and the cushions, hauling a leg over you and then the other so she was standing on the floor, leaving you devoid and cold of her touch. When she stepped away, you felt all the heat fade away from your body, and when she reached down to grab you, you felt it again, like it was just radiating off her body. She grabbed you by the wrists and pulled you up to your feet. You stumbled against her and tried to jerk your wrists out of her hands as she started leading you away.

“Hey, hey, Wanda, wait,” you said, digging your heels into the carpet to try and slow her down. With a locked jaw and hard eyes, she let go of your wrists but instead bent over and wrapped her arms around your torso, hoisting you off the floor. Your balance lost you, but then you realized Wanda had thrown you over her shoulder and was now carrying you up the stairs.

“Wanda, calm down,” you pleaded as you stared at the back of her legs, your hair falling down around your face from the upheaval of gravity.

From what you could see of the floor, Wanda was leading you into the bedroom, kicking the door shut with her foot before walking to the bed and heaving you down on it. The mattress sprung under your weight and popped you back upwards, but Wanda was already on top of you, forcing you back down onto the mattress.

“Do you think you can just get away with something like that?” she growled, her voice quivering with something that was not fear. She pulled your body up on the bed so your head was on the pillows. “Think you can drug me and manipulate me?”

Your face heated as she finally spoke your trespass out loud. “You did it to me first…” you weakly argued, but she was already pulling your shirt over your head and stripping your pants off your body, along with your undergarments. You tried to ignore the heat that flooded you when you heard the fabric of your panties rip as Wanda pulled them off.

“Don’t fucking talk back to me,” Wanda spat, placing a hand on your bare chest to keep you pressed into the bed as she got up and reached into the nightstand. Your stomach sunk when she took out a pair of velvet handcuffs and roughly cuffed your wrists to the headboard, rendering you trapped on the bed. Next she took a vibrator and a silk rope, moving so fast you couldn’t prepare yourself enough for when she clicked the vibe on and placed it right onto your clit, tying the rope around your thighs until they were tied shut, trapping the vibe that was already making your insides tingle.

“Wanda,” you groaned, trying to break your thighs loose, but the rope kept them tied completely shut. You even tried to yank your wrists out of the cuffs, but it was no use. Even in her haze of desire, Wanda had trapped you efficiently.

“This is what you wanted, huh?” Wanda asked as she started quickly undressing herself, her pants falling from her ankles as she climbed back onto the bed. She hoisted herself over your face, and you saw her bare pussy, the way it was already glistening with wetness and puffy from lust. “When you put the pills in my wine, did you expect to get face-fucked, slut?” Her voice was edged and sharp as she grabbed a fistful of your hair and hovered over your mouth. “Open,” she snapped.

Trembling, you slowly opened your mouth and she lowered herself onto it, the taste and smell of her arousal filling your tongue and nostrils as she started grinding on your tongue. Eyes staring up at her, you watched her instantly moan from an open mouth, throwing her head back as her hardened nipples perked from her breasts.

The vibrator between your legs was driving you crazy, the constant friction on your clit to which you couldn’t relieve because your thighs were tied shut. You could already feel wetness pooling there, dripping down your skin and onto the bed.

“Fuck,” Wanda moaned, holding tighter onto your hair as she gyrated her hips over your open mouth, her liquids smearing over your chin and dripping to the back of your throat. You could even feel her clit throbbing on your tongue, hot and swollen.

You started to feel almost bad, seeing how worked up and needy she was, but she was rectifying you with how harshly she began to ride your face, jerking herself against your tongue and placing a hand on the wall to steady herself. The handcuffs on your wrists jingled with the force that she fucked your face, her red hair growing wily and wavy from the humidity incited by her ravenous desire.

Wanda’s teeth showed as she squeezed her eyes shut, her breasts bouncing as she moaned loudly. You echoed her moan against her pussy, your hips involuntarily bucking against the vibrator. Pressure was coiling in your stomach, from the way you were trapped under her, from the taste of her, from the merciless pleasure being forced on your clit. Before you could stop it, an orgasm washed over you, and the moans and whimpers that escaped your throat and landed on Wanda’s core pushed her to an orgasm directly after you, fucking herself on your mouth so hard that you could feel your lower lip smash against your teeth and start to sting.

You were losing breath, heart racing, the vibrator still trapped to you even after you had cum, the sensitive feeling driving you mad as you violently bucked your legs to try and free yourself. Wanda took her time in riding her climax out before she finally moved off you, looking down at you and grinning at the sight. “Mommy made a mess of you,” she whispered, her eyes, still crazed, looking at the shimmer of her cum all over the lower portion of your face, your lip which had burst and now drew bubbles of blood from under the surface, your face contorted in both pleasure and pain, legs kicking desperately to get the vibrator off you.

“Mommy, t-take it off, please,” you begged, feeling more pressure quickly chase you.

Wanda only sneered and lowered, taking you by the face and pressing her mouth to yours, tasting her own cum and the blood of your lip as she kissed you deeply and hungrily. The cruel sensations coupled with Wanda’s eager kiss pushed you over the edge again, your back arching off the bed as your second orgasm crashed upon you. Wanda suffocated you with her kiss, and she smiled when you moaned open-mouthed against her lips.

Tears were pooling in your eyes when the vibrations did not stop, already starting to reel you back up when your second orgasm faded halfway away. “Mommy!” you shrieked, jerking your head away from her.

Finally, Wanda reached down and untied the ropes, taking the vibrator away from you and turning it off. A groan of relief passed through you, your legs instantly parting wide to keep away any sort of friction possible.

“Oh, would you look at that,” Wanda said, and you noticed that she had reached into the nightstand again and was pulling something up her hips. “Already opening your legs for me. Such a good whore.”

Turning your head, you saw that she’d pulled a strap-on to her hips, a large red dildo staring right at you from between her fist that clutched its length. You looked up at her pleadingly. “No, Mommy, that’s enough.”

Wanda stroked her cock as she neared you, and you could tell by the look in her eyes, which somehow was made even more feral after cumming, that she was not anywhere near done with you.

“This isn’t what you wanted, mutt? To be fucked mindless and dwindled down into my pathetic personal sex doll?” Her words were so dirty that you couldn’t even look at her. “Stop talking dumb like that and get my cock ready for you.”

Grabbing you by the hair, she turned your face towards her and teased the tip of her strap against your closed lips. “Open,” she warned, her voice swinging deep and low as she pushed the tip against your lips. You parted them, allowing her to slide herself inside. You weren’t sure if your vision was just hazy or if you were already dumbed down, but you hadn’t noticed how large the strap was until it was nestled down your throat, urging you to quietly gag. You could barely fit your mouth around it, struggling to swirl your tongue all the way around its girth. Wanda, standing by the bed and holding your hair, took liberty in thrusting her hips a little bit to lodge it further down your throat, grinning when you gagged audibly.

“Good girl,” Wanda cooed once she was satisfied with how wet you’d made her strap, pulling it out and climbing over you on the bed, settling herself between your open legs. You didn’t even make an effort to close them, knowing that you were far past denying her now.

Curling her arms under your knees, she bent them and pushed your thighs to your stomach. You started to whine when she teased her strap against your entrance, and she shot a dark glare your way.

“What are you whining about, slut? All you have to do is lie there and take my cock like a good girl. Is that so fucking hard?” Her hunger was turning into anger, and that turned into her forcing herself into you all at once, squeezing her way through your walls that were far too tight for her cock. Crying out in pain, you threw your head back and tried to kick at her, but she held your thighs still and bottomed out inside you, the tip of her cock pressing deep in your lower tummy.

“M-Mommy,” you cried, tears flooding down your cheeks. There was pain from her size and pain from the overstimulation of having already orgasmed twice, but there was also the sickly pleasure you took in seeing her so needy and crazed, so forceful and demanding with you.

“Don’t cry. It will just make me fuck you harder.” She pulled nearly all the way out of you before snapping her hips again, and she fucked you with a harsh pace, the headboard slamming against the wall each time she slammed into you. She pulled your legs up over her shoulders, placing her hands on your tits for leverage as she stuffed herself inside of you over and over again, the friction it stirred against her own clit driving her to grunt and screw her eyes shut.

“Mommy, slower,” you begged, trying to reach out and touch her, but you were reminded that your hands were cuffed.

“Shut up,” Wanda snapped, slapping a hand over your mouth to silence you. “If you’d stop fucking talking, I’d tell you you’re doing so good for Mommy.” She looked down between your legs, her mouth falling open at the sight of your hole stretched tight around her strap that repeatedly disappeared inside you. The sound of skin slapping and wet squelching filled the air, and you grew dizzy as pressure soared inside you again. “Taking all of me like…” Wanda trailed, her eyes closing again as she grabbed your breast forcefully with one hand, her other bruising your punctured lip as it silenced you. “Fuck… Oh, fuck…”

You realized Wanda was just as wound up as you were when her thrusts grew sloppy from her impending orgasm, and the sight of her cumming as she was eight inches deep inside you propelled you into another climax that left you screaming under her hand and arching high off the bed. Wanda leaned down and buried her face into your neck, biting at your skin and grunting loudly into your ear as she trembled with her orgasm.

Your senses left you a little. You could feel her weight crushing you, hoping she was satiated. Through swirling vision and echoed hearing, you sensed her pull out of you and uncuff the handcuffs on your wrists. When her hands came to you again and started moving you onto your stomach, you were too blinded and dazed to understand what was happening until Wanda’s body weight pressed against your back, and you felt the sobering pain of her entering your stretched pussy again, starting to fuck you from behind.

Shrieking, you buried your face into the mattress and clawed at the sheets. You were so sensitive that every thrust and movement made you want to crawl out of your skin, but Wanda was grunting and moaning behind you as if she hadn’t already cum twice.

“Fuck, I love being this deep inside you,” Wanda said against the back of your neck as she grazed her nose across your skin, coming to bite into the back of your shoulder as she sloppily thrusted into you. Both of your juices had combined into a sticky puddle on the sheets below, dripping onto each other’s skin and mixing into a mess of wet at the point where you were connected.

When you’d put the pill in Wanda’s drink, you’d expected her to be needy, of course. You did not expect for it to all come back on you, for her to both punish you for your actions and also quell the desire you’d forced into her in the same swift blow.

When you’d both cum again, your legs were shaking beyond control, and Wanda finally fell limp against your back, crushing you into the mattress. She panted heavily, still lodged inside you, running her hands up the smooth skin of your waist as she gently kissed the deep red bite mark she’d left on your shoulder.

Her breathing started to slow, her hands comforting you with their gentle touch, her lips kissing your skin so soft it felt like feathers.

“Has your pussy had enough, detka?” Wanda whispered, reaching down to the kiss the side of your face that wasn’t pressed against the sheets, wiping away some of the still fresh tears from your cheek.

You nodded desperately, wincing when you wiggled too hard and felt her still inside you. Hissing, you felt her slowly pull out of you, sighing in relief.

“Well, then,” she whispered, right when you thought that the punishments were over and the lust had been fucked out of her system. “I’ll just have to take your ass.”

[badnoahmens]

I took your keys, it was me

Noah Sebastian x Reader

A/N - One of the longest fics I’ve written. Please let me know if it is too much drabble (but also please be nice because I am a fragile little person) and also I’m sorry if there’s typos because I just do that sometimes.

Based off of something that happened at a Bad Omens show, how could I not write about this fantasy? Watch the first few seconds of this to get what I mean. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSLYKGjCV/

The night had finally arrived, the concert that you had been waiting months for. For the first time, Bad Omens was playing in your city, and it didn’t matter how much tickets were going to cost you or how long you would have to work to build your funds up again, there was no way you could be stopped from going. Your friends like them too, and shared the excitement, but you would never admit how much their music had a chokehold on your life. Whether it be the thrashing drums of ‘Artificial Suicide’ pumping you up for the day, or the moody solemn tones of ‘The Fountain’ that made you cry at 2am, this band was a big part of who you were.

Your outfit was planned, a classic you always felt confident in, and your schedule for the night was mapped out. The easiest way was to drive yourself there, meet up with your friends, and then make your way into the venue. With the price of VIP being way out of your budget, you couldn’t bring yourself to justify it. Seeing them live would have to be enough, and of course it would be.

When the night came, the stars seemed to align for you. Finding a car park nice and close, only a 5 minute walk to the venue, as well as somehow magically not being late to meeting up with your friends. The energy inside of you was buzzing and you had a bounce in your step as you walked up to see your friends all huddled at the end of the line. They welcome you with embracing arms and you all talk about how you ‘can’t believe the night is finally here!’

“What song are you most looking forward to?” your friend asks, now about an hour into waiting in the line, sitting now with legs crossed and looking back at the growing line behind you.

“I’m really hoping they play Miracle. That song's progression and build up is just something else. Can you imagine what it would be like?” you reply with enthusiasm. The conversation continues for the remainder of the evening as you wait patiently for the show to begin.

After more time has passed, the line begins to move. The doors have opened and people are starting to funnel their way into the dark room. Although it was calm before, the energy of everyone waiting to see this sold-out show picks up instantly and the volume begins to grow with excited chatter.

Your group splits up, some heading into the crowd for a good spot to watch the show, others head for the merch line, and at least one headed straight to the bar. You opt in for the crowd. Being a seasoned concert-goer, you stuck to the right hand side, knowing this is where a lot of movement happens and it was more likely you could get a closer view.

The supporting band started and the crowd lurched forward, still not reaching the maximum capacity as people were still floating about. Your legs trip a little underneath you before you finally find your footing. A familiar riff begins to play and the opening band takes their turns making their entrance to the stage. The light was dim so only silhouettes could be seen, but it was a thrilling way to start the night. The band continued to play an entertaining show, interacting with the crowd and thanking everyone for coming to see them. With about a 30 minute set, they truly put in all their effort by playing crowd favorites, new songs, and even a call-back to their earlier music that was a personal favorite.

By the end of their allocated time, they thanked the crowd, tossed out their remaining guitar picks and drum sticks, and then headed off backstage. There was quiet music playing off the speakers now while everyone in the crowd used this time to catch their breath. Others needed a break from the sweaty mosh pit, and left to take care of whatever business they needed to. The group in front of you decided to head out, and kindly offered you their spot. You obliged, barely even hearing them ask if you wanted to move up, and slipped by them as they made their way out. By the time you manage to steady yourself, you realize it is only a single row back from the front of the crowd, the barricade almost within your reach. You didn’t want to push it though, knowing how long some of these people waited to have their spot up front, you just stood your group and hoped there would be an opening at some stage.

Even without any band playing, the crowd was still moving quite a bit, to the point where people were getting a little rowdy. It seemed as though some were growing more impatient as time went by and were trying to move around and gain a more advantageous position. Throughout this movement, someone was shoved, acting like dominoes into your direction, knocking a few people over. As you start to feel this happening, your hand instinctively throws itself to the barricade, reaching between two people to stop yourself from crashing down on top of the people next to you. In doing this, you catch the person who falls on you, a teenage boy by the looks of things. He looked a little embarrassed and even a little flustered, but thanked you and righted himself quickly. Those who were in front of you saw that you had reached up to help yourself, and then did their best in the crowded space to assist you where you coud. Two nice strangers parted just enough for you to stand upright and motioned for you to join them along the front. WIth all the movement occurring, you thought it was probably the safest move to have something to hang onto, not to mention it was the best spot in the house.

Almost as though it was timed, just as you got into your new position, the lights dimmed and the crowd absolutely roared with cheer. You could feel the crowd move in waves behind you with pressure crashing into you. In what looked like slow motion, figures began to grace the stage with their presence, with the soundtrack of a low, slow and suspenseful drum beat starting to fill the room. It was almost hard to hear the guitar and bass begin over the noise the crowd was making, some sounding like caged animals as they screamed bloody murder.

The lights lifted in time with the melody that began, and lo and behold, Noah was standing in front of you. His eyes were shut with one hand pressed up to his ear, a microphone held in his other hand. Jolly was next to him with a stoic look on his face, and Nick Rufilo on his other side, looking down as he strummed the tune being played out. Nick Folio was behind them all, sat up on a raised box adorned with his drum kit, gently beginning to build the heartbeat of the song.

It took you a moment to truly wrap your head around what was happening, Bad Omens we’re finally playing in front of you. In person. Barely a few feet away from you. It’s mere seconds after this happens that electricity runs through your body and you’re immediately jumping along to the hook of the song, ‘Nowhere To Go’. The barricade in front of you was a saving grace as you could feel the swell of people behind you tossing themselves around, breaking apart spaces to dance and thrash about. It didn’t take long before crowd surfers began to topple over you, falling into the arms of security guards that dappled the empty space between you and the stage. You were shoulder to shoulder with strangers, but it didn’t matter anymore. These people were your people because you were in a space where nothing even mattered other than the performance you were witnessing.

The first song comes to a close too soon, and the next begins, each member of the band not missing a beat. You could see it in their eyes that they were just as excited as you were for this show. Noah in particular seemed to be in a good mood, shuffling, dancing and bopping around on the stage, seemingly less serious than normal. He was blowing kisses to his bandmates, to which would send them right back to him. They laughed and joked during the performance and it made the whole show that much more entertaining.

More songs came to a close, and it seemed like Noah himself needed a break from the high-energy show he was putting on. The crowd was starting to settle down, still swaying with the songs but the initial throw of bodies had started to slow. During this rare break in music, your hand swiftly brushed against your pocket and you noticed the lack of contents that should have been there. Your car keys, that you literally needed to get out of here, were no longer clipped and safely tucked away in your pocket. A panic begins to wash over you and your eyes dark around the crowded space as best you could. Leaning over the barricade, you check to see if you can see them, if they had somehow shimmied down and onto the floor there, but to no avail. Your feet are shuffling around in the hopes to maybe, just maybe, kick them or feel them in some way, but there is nothing but other people's shoes and the odd drink can that had been carelessly discarded.

It was then when your ears pricked at the sound coming from in front of you.

“Are you okay? You drop something?” and then nothing followed. Amidst your panic your eyes dart up, meeting those of Noah looking down at you. His chest was still heaving slightly, seemingly out of breath himself, but he seemed genuinely concerned about the state you were in. “You alright?” he asks, with the crowd looking around with confusion.

“My keys,” you call back, trying to break above the sound barrier that was the chatter of the crowd around you. Noah looks perplexed as he tries to decipher what you’re saying. It still hasn’t quite hit you that Noah was checking in on you, and you can tell he didn’t quite hear you, so you repeat yourself again. “Keys!”

“Keys! Oh, we need those” Noah retorts, and leans over his perch on the stage so that he towers over you in the crowd. He seems to peer down at the space in front of you, and then drops down into the photo pit right where you stood. It was starting to dawn on you that the singer of your favorite band, the one you had been waiting so long to see, was standing in front of you, at his own concert, paused, for your own benefit. It wasn’t long that you shared this space with him, as he jumped back onto the stage, throwing one long limb up behind the other back to help him get back to his position.

“You’re staying here forever, with us!” he jokes, but there was something to his voice. It seemed odd that he seemed to help for such a short amount of time, even at all. But it was understandable, he had a show to run, and you were just attending said show.

As Noah paced to the side of the stage, he was swinging a small trinket in his hands, curling his long fingers and then catching it again in the palm of his hand. The familiar glint of one of your keychains sparkled in the red lights shining down on them as they were tossed in Noah’s hands, spinning your car keys tauntingly in front of you. Unbeknownst to you, Noah had helped, he had found your keys, and then, being the pesky prankster he was, had stolen them right from you.

“I took your keys! It was me” he admits, finally dangling them and then tossing them to a crew member side of stage in one fell swoop. It took you longer than you would like to admit to closing your mouth after it hung ajar with shock, and Noah laughed to himself at your reaction. Bewildered, and honestly shocked at what had just happened, Noah couldn’t seem to wipe his shit-eating grin off his face. He was proud of himself, but you? Honestly, like, come on dude, those are your keys, you really need those. How were you going to get them back? Who even had them? What if you really can’t get them back? Questions circled your mind as the world around you continued to move on.

“Alright, so anyway…” Noah moved on, giving instructions to the crowd on how he wanted them to interact with the following song, to which they of course obliged. You on the other hand were still so perplexed, that honestly, it made it difficult to focus on what was happening. Despite this occurring, the rest of the night continued smoothly, no more disruptions from crowd-members misplacing their shit, and the band performed an incredible show regardless of your confused state that slowly lifted the further on in the show you got.

By the time the show came to an end, the encore had played out, and the band was waving their goodbyes, it came to your attention that you really needed to do something now about getting those keys back. But before you got their attention, all four members of Bad Omens were walking away from you with their backs turned in your direction. You called out again, leaning half of your body over the barricade, but to no avail. Defeated, your face falls into your hands, elbows propped up on the cool metal in front of you.

What now? Do you call a cab? Did you even still have your phone, or was that lost too? More and more questions circled your head, making you feel dizzy and overwhelmed. The strangers who neighbored you in the crowd asked if you needed help, but you thanked them and sent them on their way. This was your mess, plus, your other friends were here somewhere too, so surely they could help you out instead. You turn now, leaning back against the barricade, and start scanning your eyes at the emptying venue. A small tap on your shoulder brings you out of your concentration and makes you jump a little. With your head whipping around, you saw it was someone unfamiliar, but obviously a person with the credentials that allowed them to be on the other side of the metal barrier.

“You the one who lost their keys?” he asks, a quizzical look on his face, voice slightly louder than the background music now echoing in the venue.

“Yeah, that's me. Although I think it’s more like having my keys stolen” you retort with a laugh and a little disbelief still. The man opposite you laughs at the remark and looks off to the side.

“Look, if you’re quick to jump over, you can come get them. I think I know who took them and they’re around the back.” His hand motions to the side of the room towards the end of the stage, and there is a clear, small opening that you could fit past. Disregarding any ‘stranger danger’ knowledge from growing up, you trust this man and slip past the barricade, feeling a little out of place after being home in the crowd for the majority of the night.

“I’m Miles, it’s nice to meet you. Did you have a good time?” he asks as you start to follow him around the side of the stage, clearly trying to entertain you with small talk and ease your obvious nerves just a little. You answer him, including by introducing yourself and explaining the pickle that the key-stealing-fiasco has put you in. He seemed genuine, sharing stories of other pranks he had seen the band pull off, but did apologize after knowing that it made you feel worried during the show.

Your concern starts to grow the longer you follow this man, despite his tales of being the band's manager, and sharing some of their antics. You tell him about the lead up to today, and how long you had been waiting for this show to be announced, to which he apologized again, explaining some conflict they had with touring schedules and whatnot. It all seemed pretty genuine, but it was distracting to the point where you had no idea where you were now amongst the maze of hallways and doors. Even though the anxiety started to dissipate, the curiosity is what was growing to take its place.

You round one more corner, following the stranger blindly, and are met with a room with a low ceiling, black walls, and the hum of the fluorescent lights above you. Not only that, but there were people here too. Many people. Maybe 10 bodies in this room, make you suddenly aware that the air was thick with sweat and the antiperspirant trying to hide the same smell. Most of the people in front of you had their backs to the door you just entered from, engaged in a conversation they all seemed too excited to be a part of.

“Noah! Care to return the keys you stole?” Miles calls out, and you felt like a little kid hiding behind their mother with the way you stood behind him. With his call out, most of the bodies turned and looked in your direction, to Miles, and all looked shocked at his sudden interjection. Although he used a lighthearted tone, and you didn’t even say anything, it still felt like you were overstepping.

“Key girl!” You hear being called in a familiar voice. “Yes! Let me find them…” the figure continued, coming from the back of the crowd, followed by the sound of rummaging. About a minute ticked by when he started walking through the crowd, a head taller than the others around him. Noah Sebastian, the same vocalist from the band you just saw was right in front of you, a smile sheepishly adorned on his face as he may you at the door frame.

“I swear they were just here” he says guiltily, with eyes darting from yours to then back at the room he was standing in.

The tightening in your chest felt so unnatural, but it was intimidating seeing him this close, in person, and without the veil of a performance in between the two of you. Your eyes are looking into his warm gaze, and although as annoying as it was to lose your items, this was something you never expected it to come to.

He looks away as he pulls out his phone, promptly making a call whilst looking back over his shoulder.

“Hey! Those keys I threw at you during the show, where did they go? I could have sworn I saw them in the green room…” he trails off to the unknown contact, followed by some “Mmhmm”’s. He looks at you again, meeting your eyes, making a guilty expression and biting down on his lip.

“I see, would it be okay if someone brought them back here? They’re ready to be collected” he states, and you may have been mistaken but was that a wink at you?

He ended the conversation, stating “they’re on their way”, and then stood to the side of the door. “Please come sit down, it’s the least I could do” he pleads, motioning with his arm for you to enter the room.

Your throat was tight and you could feel the awkward heat starting to flush your cheeks as you stood there a little embarrassed. How could you say no?

“Thanks for finding them for me anyway” you state, walking past him and trying your best to swallow the ever-growing lump in your throat.

“I mean, I’m sorry that I took them. I just thought it would be a funny bit. And then I completely forgot about it” he said sheepishly. He followed you into the room, taking a drink from the mini fridge and offering you a bottle.

“Drink while you wait?” He asks, as though he is trying his best to be a good host.

You take the bottle in your hand, while pulling over one of the black plastic chairs to sit down on, as other members of the band started to do the same next to you.

“Honestly, I had no idea what he was doing,” Nick Folio called from behind him in between gulps from his water bottle. He then leans forward and holds out a hand to you. “I’m Nick '' he says with a wide grin. You shake his hand and then twist the cap off your own drink as you reply with your name.

“Neither did I” Jolly joined in, “I thought he was just pretending” he joked as he leant up against the table.

“I see what you did there!” Nick Rufilo said, pointing at him and smirking at the joke you were sure they had heard thousands of times before, also sitting down in the social-circle that was starting to form.

You couldn’t help but smile at the interaction, and a warmth swelled in your heart as you glanced at Noah, who was sitting opposite you on a lounge against the wall, and who had a smile spread across his face as he watched the banter between his bandmates. It almost felt intrusive that you got to share this moment with them, it seemed intimate in a way that only close friends got to see this side of them. This band was largely a mystery, keeping to themselves and presenting as a theatrical showcase spectacle when on the stage.

“Thanks again for your help” you say sheepishly, in an attempt to continue the conversation. “I think it would still be looking for them if you hadn’t grabbed them. That, or they’d be crushed”.

“Yeah, that crowd looked fun! Was it rough? I kind of miss those days'' Jolly asked, curious to know how the show was from the other side.

“It was crazy, but everyone loved it. Honestly, the show is fantastic. What kind of things go into organizing that kind of performance?” You ask, half being polite, half being nosey.

“It’s a lot of trust in the right people” Noah stated, looking over at some of the crew who had just joined you.

“And having a perfectionist of a vocalist overseeing every detail that goes into the show” Rufilo remarks, teasing his band mate.

“So I want to give people the best show of their lives! Sue me!” Noah flails his arms and slumps back into the lounge.

The conversation continues, branching off into music influences, tales from the road of touring, and embarrassing stories from the group that probably shouldn’t have been told to you.

It had been some time, and the keys were still not located. It was something that still was on your mind, but you weren’t upset at how long this was taking. Your drink was empty, so you absentmindedly played with the bottle in your hands as you listened attentively as Folio shared a fond memory from earlier on in the tour.

Noah noticed your toying of the bottle, and stood up to walk towards you.

“Care for another?” He asked, whilst holding his hand out to take the empty.

“Thank you, but maybe not. Still need to drive, remember?” You answer with a stifled laugh.

“Oh shit, that’s right. The whole reason you’re here. Where did he go…” his whole demeanor changes from a relaxed, cool being, to a more frantic and concerned expression.

He strides over to the table Jolly was now sitting atop, picking up items of clothing and shifting bottles around in an attempt to find your keys.

“Noah!” Someone called, to which he spun around to, flinching at the sudden sight of keys being tossed in his direction. With a quick response, he catches them in one hand, smiling at the effort.

“Keys secured!” He calls, looking in your direction with a gleeful smile. He walks over to you, once again brushing his hair back with his hand, and holds them out to you.

As you look down at them in the palm of his outstretched hand, it’s almost like they taunted you like they did earlier in the night with the way the light bounced off of the metal. You reach out and take them from him, trying to be polite but also suddenly aware of the closeness between you two.

“Did you park far from here?” He asks in a quiet tone, the softest you’ve heard him all night.

“It’s only about a 5 minute walk. Thanks for the hospitality, it’s been nice talking” you reply, looking up at him, very aware of the height advantage he had over you.

“I’ll walk you to your car, can’t have you be murdered after what a great night it’s been” he laughed, eyes crinkling at the sides as he looked over his shoulder. “Be back soon, just making sure key girl doesn’t get murdered!” He calls out to the room, referring to you by your new nickname amongst the group. An earlier conversation had made it stick, after Rufilo mentioned it sounded like it had a James Bond-esque vibe to it.

“Don’t kill her yourself, Noah!” Folio calls back with a humorous tone. “But really, don’t. I can’t be bothered going through getting a new vocalist when you get your ass in jail” he continued, face dead-pan.

“Shut up,” Noah replied, rolling his eyes.

You wave to the room, thank them again, and then turn to walk out, Noah closely following.

“You really don’t need to do this. It’s not far” you argue.

“No, it’s okay. It’s nice to get some fresh air” he mentions as you find one of the doors leading out behind the venue.

There was a small crowd of people loitering off to the side, oblivious to your presence. Noah sees it, and hesitates to walk forward. You catch on to this, then also see the group.

“You can go inside if you don’t want to see them” you offer.

“No, it’s not them, I’ll come out when I get back to talk to that group. It’s just… maybe we go the other way? Otherwise we will be there all night” He asks, tucking his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Of course, it’s not that much longer” you reply, turning and starting to walk with Noah down the street, in the opposite direction.

As he walks, he pulls the hood up on his head, keeping him protected from the cool night. You, on the other hand, notice the goosebumps rising and a shiver starting to happen. Trying your best to mask this, you try to talk as a distraction.

“What’s it like?” You ask suddenly, trying to hide the chatter of your teeth. Noah looks at you, frowning slightly as he doesn’t really know what you’re asking.

“You know, the fame, the touring, the music… all of it. What’s it like?”

“I really can’t complain. I’ve wanted this forever, and we’ve all worked our asses off for this” he smiles as he looks at his feet walking next to you. “That’s not to say it has its hard days though” he continues, this time looking over at you.

You respond with an understanding head nod, despite not even understanding a little bit. “What are those harder days like?”

Noah thinks for a moment, scrunching his nose and bobbing his head side to side as he tries to find the right words, eyes lifting to scan the sky for an answer. “It’s frustrating” he lands on. “It’s like… you know what needs to be done, but there’s some force stopping it from happening.”

“Do you mean when it comes t-to music?” You chatter back.

Noah glances at you again, looking away from the stars, and down to meet your gaze up at him. He saw the way your arms were crossed tightly over your body, and the rigid way you were standing. Without speaking, he stops in his tracks and yanks his hoodie from behind his head. It slips up his back and over his arms, tugging up his black t-shirt underneath just a little, making the coloured tattoos decorating his torso exposed to the night air. You couldn’t help but watch as his long arms tower upwards, graceful even in the most mundane of things.

Whilst you were still a little hypnotized, he yanks the hoodie off his head, and without warning slips it over your head. The warmth was immediate, the residual body heat from Noah made it feel like a blanket of warmth wrapped around you. The sudden change in temperature took you off guard, as well as the encapsulating fabric restricting your arms.

Noah laughed at your reaction, looking down at the black hoodie you now adorned, large red letters of ‘OMENS’ printed on the front, and the sleeves hanging idly at your sides. It was so long on you, like a dress wearing you instead of you wearing it. You couldn’t help but laugh at the size of it.

“Looks good on you.”

“What size even is this? How long are you?” You ask without even thinking, and then laugh again at the sound of your absurd question. Long?

Noah was laughing too, now with his arms open to the air you could really see the details and color in the illustrations that covered them, right up to his neck. His hair was now ruffled, a mess with strands standing every which way, showing the undercut of his hairstyle.

You were a little entranced looking up at him, both of you standing still and stifling your giggles like a couple of school girls.

“You seem different in person,” you blurt out. “I mean, different to when you were on stage” you state, not sure if this was crossing some kind of unknown boundary.

Noah thought for a moment, a smile dwindling but still upturned. “I guess I don’t need to play this… character… when not on stage” he responds, tattooed fingers coming up to imitate air quotes to emphasize his words. He thinks about what he says next. “I just don’t want anyone to be disappointed when they come to see us play” he remarked, now looking down at his feet, hands going into the pockets of his black pants.

“I really don’t think anyone would ever be disappointed” you reply, with an undertone of confidence. Noah sighs and smiles in response.

“I’m serious!” You call, slipping your arms into the oversized sleeves and playfully whacking him with the extra material hanging from you.

Noah turns his body, bracing for the light impact, and laughing at the futile attempt to seem demanding. It helped to lighten the mood a little, as you were worried you’d stepped into a personal space he wouldn’t feel comfortable in.

The two of you look ahead, down the dark street, and then start walking again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry” you state.

“Not prying, don’t apologize.” Noah shook his head and looked down at you again. Every time he did this it made you forget how to breathe. Seeing him this close made you appreciate all the little things you never noticed about him. The marks from piercings from a past life, freckles that dotted the side of his face, even to the uneven stubble that was starting to grow on his jaw. Up close, he was normal, not this enigmatic figure performing. He was himself, vulnerable and insightful.

It made you think about what he was like all the time, if he was serious, if the goofy side ever came out, or if he was quiet and content like now. Maybe a mix of everything? It was astounding to see him so comfortable already with someone he just met, a stranger, and a fan at that.

“Do you often escort your fans back to their cars after shows?” You question, bringing your own thoughts to words.

He laughed breathily before answering. “Not particularly. I’ll usually go out and meet some people after the show once we’ve calmed down. But I can’t say that this is a… common occurrence” he enunciated the last few words in his sentence. It sounded like he was avoiding the lisp that snuck through earlier on in the conversation. “I like to be able to meet people. Thank them. Talk to them like normal humans talk” he explained. “I feel like I can make a real connection with them that way.”

“That makes sense,” you reply.

He continued to tell you stories that involved interacting with fans, and then drifted into interactions with other bands. He told you of his fondest memories while on a festival lineup in the UK. He met an idol of his, and being able to talk to them was something he’ll never forget. The way his eyes lit up when he was talking about this made you smile and it seemed genuine as though he was catching up with an old friend.

“Thanks for being cool with my little prank,” he changed the topic. “Actually, thanks for just being cool in general. It’s been nice to talk to someone new like this. I haven’t done it in a long time. It’s hard to meet new people who have good intentions.”

It took you by surprise how he spoke about you. “I think this is going to be a good story to tell” you reply, also trying to think of a way to say you’re grateful for it because you got to spend this time with him.

You could see your car in the distance, safely parked exactly where you had left it. The walk had taken you longer than expected, but neither of you were rushing to make it end anytime soon. Noah seemed to be the one slowing down the pace, regardless of his lack of warm hoodie.

With the last few steps up to your car door, you come to a halt. “This is me” you point to your car. Nothing too flashy, but not something to brag about.

“Nice wheels” Noah eyes your car. “I like how round all 4 of them are,” he says through a laugh.

You laugh too, looking at the car, and then back to him. “Thank you. This has been really special.”

He goes shy again, looking at his feet while scuffing up some of the grass. “Can I ask a dumb question?”

Your mind jumps to the hoodie you still wore, the smell of him enveloping you as a reminder that it was not yours. “Oh, sorry” you state, hands gripping the hem to lift above your head and give back to him.

“No no no, not that,” he catches the hoodie in your hands, “keep the hoodie, I have so many.” his hands let go after pulling it back down over your head.

“If there's anything I can do in return, please say so Noah” you respond, feeling like you were in his debt. Not only did he give you a great performance, he helped find your keys, gave you his drinks, entertained you with wonderful conversation, walked you to your car, and then even gave you the clothes off his back.

“I really don’t want you to think less of me because of this” he said, a hand rising to rub the back of his neck. He was still avoiding eye contact and looking at the ground. It started to make you think you did something wrong.

“Noah, I’m sorry if I ruined your night” you admit, guilt starting to make your stomach do flips inside you. In a flash his eyes were on you.

“No, you didn’t ruin my night, promise! I… I was just going to ask for your number.”

Number? Phone number? You stood there stunned.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I look like a creep now and I-”

“Of course you can,” you finally answer, understanding why he was so shy and hesitant before. It wasn’t every day that he would ask for this, and it's a big risk coming from him.

He pulls the phone from his back pocket, opening his contacts and then passes it over to you. Your heart was thumping inside your chest like it was trying to break free as you typed in your digits, adding the contact under ‘key girl’. You hand it back to him, looking up at his face. A smile spreads across as he reads the name, letting out a huff of a laugh.

“Will you be back in this part of town any time soon?” you ask, trying your best to hide the bundle of nerves and excitement brewing.

“We’re heading to the next show tomorrow, but coming back this way on our way home.”

“Well, if you need someone to show you around, take you on a personal tour, I know someone with a car with 4 nice round wheels, and a good story about how she lost her keys at a concert once, that could help you.”

“I think I will take you up on that” he replied through a smile. You couldn't help but smile back. The two of you stood there for a moment, relishing in what had just happened.

“I think I should-”

“Yeah, you should go. It’s been a big night” Noah interrupts. You click at the button on your keys, the light flashing behind you in response.

“Thank you Noah, for tonight. And the hoodie, of course.” You step into your car, looking up at him once more.

“It’s been my pleasure, honestly.” He closes the door and watches as you fasten your seatbelt and start to pull away, waving a long arm in the air gently as you do the same back to him.

As you drove, the figure of Noah started to disappear into the veil of darkness that was night. You could barely see him begin to walk back towards the venue and back to his normal nightly routine after a show. Your mind spirals into a replay of the events that have happened tonight, and that led you to driving away from what seemed like a fantasy.

The drive home wasn’t too long, and it seemed to fly by the time you pulled up in your own driveway. Still processing, the key to the door unlocks easily and you walk in, heading straight for bed. Sitting on the edge of the soft blanket-covered mattress, you pull out your phone for the first time tonight, flicking off the ‘do not disturb’ feature, and scrolling through the flood of messages and missed call alerts from your friends. You laugh at some of the remarks made in the group chat, knowing full well they had no clue what had occurred. Some joked about running away and joining the band, others were betting that your phone was lost.

After a quick message to them all letting them know you are alive, a contentedness starts to fall over you. Did all of that really just happen, or are you just taking part of some kind of dream? As you ask yourself this, a light buzz comes from your phone, alerting you of a new message. It came from a number not saved previously.

Hope you got home okay. Thanks for giving me a story to tell too. Will definitely hit you up for that personal driving tour - Noah

You stare at your screen, looking at the words he chose to use. You tried not to read too much into it, but there was a spark that threatened to roar into a fire inside of you that made you believe he could actually want to see you again. Before getting too ahead of yourself, you type out your reply.

Home safe and ready for bed. Thanks for being my key savior. You hit send, but quickly see a response.

Happy to offer my assistance. Next time I promise not to steal any of your belongings.

Next time? You sure hope to god there is indeed a next time.

Part 2

[roses-r-rosie3]

Camping Trip

Jason Todd x M!Himbo!Reader

Warnings: fluff, slight angst

Summary: Jason invites the reader to a camping trip with the Batfam and tries to give hints to the reader that he likes him the entire trip but the reader is completely oblivious to it and thinks Jason is just being friendly

Quote: “Dang dude you’re stuck in the friend zone”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Everyone in the family knew about Jason’s little crush on you, so it didn’t surprise them when he invited you along to the camping trip as his “plus one” (even though it was only supposed to be a family trip). Jason thought that bringing you along to a camping trip with his family would be the perfect place for him to finally confess to you.

All of his other attempts were.. interesting.. to say the least. It wasn’t his fault by any means, but you were just very.. oblivious. One time he took you out to the movies, and he tried the classic “stretching his arms around your shoulders” trick. He thought that you had finally got the hint that he liked you. But afterwards, he got hit with this…

BUDDY?!?

“Dang dude you’re stuck in the friend zone” Dick laughed as Jason showed him.

Hopefully this time you would finally get the hint. I mean he’s inviting you to a trip, WITH HIS FAMILY! Surely you weren’t that clueless, right?

It was the day of the trip and Bruce rented a van, problem was, Bruce didn’t know that Jason was inviting you until he already got the van. Jason got the bright idea for you to sit on his lap, but when he mentioned it to Bruce, Bruce immediately denied it.

Jason decided to take a separate car with you to drive there since you weren’t the best driver. There was a time when you let go of the steering wheel to pull out a paper map because your phone had no service. It still puzzles everyone how you passed your drivers test.

Jason tried giving hints even while he was driving. Turning on love songs, placing his hands on your thighs, etc. but you still weren’t getting it, instead just thinking that he was being friendly. When all of you got there, you all built the tents and set up the campfire.

“Jason” Dick whispered as he motioned for Jason to come to him.

Jason followed Dick to where no one else could hear them.

“Ok so, I packed some kayaks for the trip, why don’t you and y/n down there before us” Dick winked.

“Oh my god! Thank you so much Dick! I owe you for this one” Jason smiled before running off to go get you.

“Hey y/n, I was wondering if you wanted to come down to the river, Dick brought some kayaks” Jason asked.

“Sure!” You smiled before following Jason.

While you were kayaking, Jason rested his head on your shoulder, but you still weren’t getting it. You just thought he was tired from all of the driving. When the two of you finally came back to the camping grounds, you were met with Jason’s family who were giggling and snickering, Jason later found out that they were taking pictures of the two of you.

When it started to get dark, everyone stood around the campfire while making s’mores. Everyone was laughing while talking about embarrassing stories, ghost stories, and catching up. It was a really fun time for everyone.

When it came night-time, everyone had partners to sleep with. Bruce got his own tent, Stephanie and Cassie, Dick and Damian, Duke and Tim, and last but not least you and Jason. After everyone got ready for bed, they said their goodbye’s and went inside their individual tents to sleep.

“I had a lot of fun today” you smiled as you looked into Jason’s eyes.

“I did too, especially because you’re here” Jason smiled back cheekily.

You just giggled before cuddling into Jason’s chest and started to slowly drift asleep. Jason couldn’t help but to chuckle a bit before slowly falling asleep himself.

You suddenly woke up in the middle of the night, in need to use the restroom. You slowly slipped out of Jason’s grasp and quickly walked behind one of the trees before relieving yourself. After you were done you quickly squirted some hand sanitizer in your hand until you heard some shuffling behind you.

“Hello…?”

Jason awoke and saw that you weren’t there with him. Jason got out of the tent to quickly go look for you. He turned on his flashlight and started walking but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you were surrounded by a pack of wolves.

“Y/n! What are you doing! Run!” Jason yelled out, scaring the wolves away.

Before you could talk, Jason interrupted you.

“Are you kidding me y/n?! You could’ve gotten hurt!” Jason yelled out before stomped his way back to the tent.

You were quick to follow him back to the tent. When you finally got inside, Jason was silent, almost ignoring you.

“I’m sorry Jason, I didn’t mean to worry you” you apologized.

“Why would you do that y/n! You could’ve gotten hurt! I would’ve lost you!” Jason sobbed.

“I’m sorry, I just needed to use the restroom and-”

You were interrupted when Jason smashed his lips against yours. As your lips met, a tingling sensation ran through your body. You felt his hands gently cup her face as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a certain urgency, as if he could lose you at any moment. When the two of you pulled apart, you struggled to open your eyes for a bit.

“I- I’m so sorry y/n- I would completely understand if you hate me after this- I didn’t mean t-”

Now it was your turn to interrupt him as you pulled him in for another kiss. This time, the kiss was full of tenderness and passion, and intimacy. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close as you enjoyed the taste of him.

As you finally broke the kiss, you looked into each other's eyes, yours eyes were full of love, but not like before. Before, you looked at him in a friendly manner, but now, you looked at Jason with a special kind of love that made him feel warm.

“Thank you for saving me from those angry dogs Jason” you blushed.

“Wolfs y/n, they were wolfs” Jason chuckled.

“Awwwww how cute!!!” Stephanie giggled.

You and Jason immediately turned your head to see that not only was Stephanie there recording, everyone else was awake too.

“How long have you guys been watching for!” Jason yelled.

“We heard you screaming y/n’s name so we woke up and saw you guys talking to each other, and MAN I didn’t expect that to happen!” Tim said.

“Even im shocked” Damian commented.

“Sooooo… Are you guys together now?!” Dick asked impatiently.

“I guess so” you smiled.

[miheartsedthings]

Idea - Billy spending his time with someone else while the reader is crushing on him from afar, sees their relationship unfold into something the reader wishes they had with Billy, but Billy's just doing it to distract himself from his elevating feelings for her while she's trying not to feel crushed by this massive crush.. happy ending :>

Thank you so much for being patient while I worked on this! Hope you like it! 😘

“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.” ― Federico García Lorca, Blood Wedding and Yerma

SFW, Angst, Fluff, Hidden Desire

Backing away, trembling, eyes filling with tears as his mouth babbles softly ‘No, it’s not real. This can’t…it can’t be happening…please…’ but it is happening. It has happened. Billy Hargrove has fallen in love, and much to his despair.

He wakes every morning from a nightmare of this all-consuming feeling. It’s terrible the way your face lives in his mind. You’ve replaced so many darker images and for that, he’s so grateful, but now there’s the cloying need for you. The Flayer’s voice used to echo in his skull. In the years since leaving Hawkins, it’s quieted down and now only one message remains, tacked to the back of his mind in perpetuity. No one will love you it says No one will stay. 

This is the strongest because it’s the one he already believed. The ‘truth’ he already knew about himself. His being unloveable. He thought he’d made his peace with it. He thought he was satisfied enough to have survived the Flayer and made it back to California. For a time he found a kind of happiness. A hollow, sugary calm that left his days empty. There was booze again, and a slow reentry to weightlifting. His appetite for women was slowly returning. He’d made a couple of friends and attended a couple of parties. He was creating a new normal and it was okay that it didn’t feel exactly right. 

He could live with the waves of loneliness that came over him at night. He could handle those dark memories and the nameless sense of loss. He would’ve been fine with it, if not for you. He saw you in class one morning. The dawn of another semester, another summer left behind. His skin was still warm from days on the beach, his head ringing with a hangover. Then you spoke and it was like you’d called his name with just the sound of it. He looked at you and listened to you, and every next thing you said spelled out his ruin. Every day the feeling sank further and further until he was bashful of looking your way. 

As if that wasn’t enough, you kept showing up all over campus. You were in the student center whenever he went, and at parties he attended looking so fucking good in everything you wore. You passed by each other on your morning walk to separate classes and you always waved. Always with that lovely smile of yours. It got to the point where the thought of moving around campus made him anxious about running into you. He thought of you when he picked out his clothes, for fuck’s sake. Things couldn’t continue this way. He had to find peace from you. So, when Lauren asked him out one day after the class you shared, he said yes. 

You’re trying to ignore the twist in your gut when you see Billy and Lauren walk in together. They’d always sat together in lecture, so you suppose it makes sense they’d start dating. But that doesn’t make it easier. You’d noticed Billy on your first day in class. He sat near the back, classically handsome and easily the most interesting person in class. When he talked, everyone listened, not just because of the way he looks. The way he speaks is filled with intention, right down to the gestures he chooses to accentuate his words. Whatever he feels he means it and he never shies away from that.

At the same time, you get the sense that what he says isn’t useless fluff, but based on something. Whatever he’s been through has changed him. You find yourself wanting to go up to him after class and ask him where he gets his confidence. You’d listen to his whole life story if he cared to tell you. But every time you thought you’d worked up the nerve to speak to him, those pretty blue eyes turned your nerve into vapor. 

You’d always been a little shy, but with Billy, it was a new kind of nervousness. Even boys you’d had crushes on in school hadn’t made you feel the heart-stopping terror of his full attention. Maybe it was for the best that Lauren had taken him off the market. Now, there was no need to be nervous because there was no chance anything could happen. So why doesn’t that make it easier? Why, instead of relief when you see the pair together, do you only feel a queasy swell of envy? 

“Count off when I point to you. Evens will be one team, odds will be another.” 

You think nothing of it when the professor presents the group project. Then, you realize that you’re number three and Billy is number seven, and you’re flooded with fear. 

“Oh nooo,” Lauren whines, hugging Billy’s arm to her chest. Billy says something softly to her. He’s always gentle with her, paying attention to every little thing she says. If only he’d look at you with the same care. He wears a lot of denim and smokes so much you smell the leftover cigarettes on him when he walks by. He’s always lost in thought when you see him. Something dark and cloudy behind his eyes you find yourself curious about. The distance is what kills you.

It feels unnatural that you can’t just go up and ask him what he’s thinking about. But you can’t. You watch the gentle way he pulls away from Lauren, telling her she doesn’t need to miss him since she’ll see him after class. You can’t blame her for being clingy, if he was yours you’d regret every moment apart. 

His eyes lift and there you are, making his heart race. You look down to your notebook. Your two other group members have already arrived at the two seats beside and diagonal to you, leaving the spot across from you for Billy. He plops down, his face the perfect mask of indifference. He doesn’t even look at you. Your stomach hurts.

The professor explains the assignment and you turn in your seat to watch and listen, but the words are going over your head. Billy gives off a blazing heat and you can’t ignore it to save your life. After class the four of you agree to go right to the library and talk about the assignment.

In the library, only you and Billy show up. Of course, Lauren is there, too. 

“Y/n, how do you get your hair to do that? It’s so cute!” Lauren smiles at you, twirling a lock of her auburn curls around her finger. You try to be lighthearted, but your face is burning. 

“Just practice. And Youtube.” You chuckle. Billy sits there looking down at his phone. He’s still yet to speak since the three of you arrived in the library. Instead, Lauren has been acting as his mouthpiece. 

“Very cute,” she says again, then nudges Billy. “Isn't her hair so cute, BB?” 

Finally, his gaze lifts and he looks at you. You awkwardly smile and look down at your paper. 

“Sure,” he says. 

Lauren chastizes him, saying he’s supposed to agree with her and always compliment a lady on her appearance. 

“It looks like the others aren’t coming,” You say, breaking into the conversation, sufficiently embarrassed and ready to escape. “We should try again later this week.” 

In your hurry to get away, you snatch Billy’s pen from the table, shoving it into your bag with everything else. You don’t notice until you get home and quietly curse yourself. The next day, you see him in the student center when you go there to study. You smile and wave like you usually do, but then, wave him over. He hesitates a moment, his usual cool demeanor chipping a bit as he saunters over. Damn, even the way he walks is hot. 

“I took this on accident yesterday,” you say, producing the pen. He smirks, flashing the sharp tips of his canines. 

“Shit, you could’a kept it. I didn’t even notice.” 

Right, he didn’t notice. Your neck goes warm. 

“Sure, of course, I just thought…it’s yours, so…” 

“Right.” He says. 

“Right…”’ 

An oppressive quiet falls over the two of you, while you’re still holding the pen out to him and he’s still yet to take it and sweat is prickling the back of your neck because you’re not sure what to say or do. You’re certain the wrong move would ruin everything. Finally, a flicker of awareness snaps you out of it and you pull back your hand, unfortunately, it’s at the exact same moment he decides to reach for the pen. 

“Oh,” you say, and extend it again and at the same moment he pulls back his hand. Both of you produce an awkward chuckle and he shifts onto his other leg. 

“Keep it,” he says with a handsome little grin. 

“Alright.” you clear your throat. “Did you ever hear from our group members?”

“Shit, no,” the two of you share a laugh, more comfortable this time. “It’s probably gonna be all on us.” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” You’re chewing your lip, considering a bit of honesty you’d never had the nerve for until now. “Ya know, if I’m being honest, I don’t even remember what the assignment was.” 

He cocks an eyebrow.

“You don’t know the assignment? Little miss answers every question?”

“Oh come on, I only answer half. You get the other half.” 

He rolls his eyes, a playful chiding. 

“Alright,” he slides into the seat opposite you. “I’ll explain it once so you better pay attention.” 

“Swear.” You say, smiling brightly. 

The assignment is abstract. As Billy explained it, you both found yourselves chuckling at your professor’s philosophical nature. It was a communications class, yet the assignment required in-depth study of your group mates in service of a short, but thorough introduction. You were to present your classmates as if they were receiving something like a Lifetime Achievement Award. Your speeches were to be “thoughtful, informative, and intimate”.

Billy explained all this and you enjoyed the uninterrupted view of him so up close. You were getting used to the way your stomach fell flat against your pelvis when he laughed, and soon enough you were joking right back. You asked him a few things you’d always wondered. Where had he been before Cali? Did he live in the dorms or off campus? 

You talk about things you’ve overheard through dorm walls and about small towns. You tell him about friends back home and he tells you (In such vague terms that it only makes you even more curious) about his streak of trouble that almost killed him. He talks about the town he came from like it’s a dark blip on the map of his life. 

“Should make Christmas fun, right?” You ask, joking. 

“Fuck that,” he says. “I’m not going back.” 

The mood turns somber and your smile fades. You take up the pen he gave you and take note. 

“‘Hates Hawkins more than he loves Christmas’. Got it.” 

He smiles. 

“Nice. Very accurate.” 

“Thanks,” you say “And if it makes you feel any better, I won’t be going home for break, either.” 

For a moment the two of you are quiet, taken off guard by how natural it feels to be in the other’s company. You both let your eyes wander as you never had before. A small indulgence. Then his phone rings and you’re both reminded of the reality of things. It’s Lauren, asking where he is. 

The next day, your group members still don’t show up to the library. Lauren’s meeting up with her own group, leaving you and Billy alone. 

“What do you think she means by ‘intimate’?”

Billy looks up from his draft of your introduction. He looks extraordinarily handsome today and you've been having trouble holding eye contact. You try, of course, locking eyes and waiting for the rush of nerves to pass. His lids are tapered, and now that you think of it, every eyes you've ever admired have been tapered, just like his. His expression is thoughtful. 

“Shit, I don't know. More than personal. Yeah, more than superficial. Something that lets em feel like they've known you for years.” 

What would it be like to know him for years? You start to imagine the depth of understanding you'd come to have about this person and your heart starts to race. You're beginning to really appreciate this assignment. 

“And the trick is doing it in two weeks.” You say, leaning back in your chair. “Well, I'll tell you my secrets if you tell me yours.”

He chuckles. 

“So you can go blab about them in class? No thanks.”

“I wouldn't blab,” you say through a laugh, “I just wanna get a feel-” your nerves catch up to you right then. At the worst time. He cocks an eyebrow, making you cringe. 

“You wanna feel.” He teases. 

“No, no, not like that.” 

“Uh huh.”

“I'm curious about you, that's all. You're interesting.” 

“Hm.” 

“Nevermind, forget I said anything.” 

He's smirking, and writing something in his notebook. 

“This is good,” he says “you're givin me plenty to work with.”

You groan, now fully embarrassed and he laughs again. Your eyes drop to your paper and you read over what you have so far. 

“So,” he says, “Ask me something. If you're curious.” 

You consider this invitation for a moment and decide it's now or never. You lean forward, folding your arms over each other. 

“Well, in class you're always saying you don't like non-verbal communication. It's cheap and sneaky-” 

“Lazy,” he corrects you. “It's the shit people rely on so they don't have to open their mouths.” 

“Well…I just wonder if you might be oversimplifying things, and maybe if you don't like non-verbal communication from people because you don't know how to read it.” 

His brows raise in a look of mock surprise. 

“Yeah? What, you think I can't pick up on shit?” 

“It's just a theory,” you say, laughing “But there's something to it. Non-verbals are valuable.” 

“Depends on what they are,” he says. 

“True. They're not all equal, but why hate them? I mean I know what you've said in class, they avoid the point, people use it as a crutch, but why do you think that?” 

He sighs, leaning back in his chair, his eyes finding the ceiling behind your head. He sits there looking into the middle distance, pacing through thoughts. Making sense of something. 

“You can't go through life...making people read your mind about shit.” He says, hesitating over a few of his words. You can tell this is harder for him to say. More honest. “People need to hear things…if they don't, they assume. And if you're stuck up your own ass trying to hold shit in, you never set it straight. What they think about you stays…” 

You're watching him as he speaks, gesturing in order to help bring the words out. He brushes a curly lock of gold out of his eyes and as his voice peters out your gaze lingers on his parted lips.

“You are very non-verbal.” His eyes shoot up to yours, snapping you out of your spell. “Not in a bad way,” you add. 

“In what way?” 

You shrug. 

“I don't know.” He doesn't look away, his eyes are fixed on you in a serious look of curiosity. “You talk with your hands. And to me that speaks to how genuinely you feel about things. Which is nice. You have an easy smile, it shows up as soon as you're amused and disappears the moment you're not. So, there's honesty in that, I think. You're very present.” He's watching you with a softness in his eyes that makes you warm. “And Lauren.” The mention of her name changes something in him. He looks away. “You uh…you keep your arm around her chair. It's protective.” 

A moment passes where neither of you speaks, and you feel a quiet sadness settling over you. 

“Anyway,” you continue, looking at your paper now, “Why hate it so much when it says so much about you?” 

The longer you sit there in silence the more agitated Billy seems to get. He says he has to go and starts gathering his stuff. You assume it's because you've crossed a boundary by bringing up Lauren and you part ways with a gnawing guilt making your eyes water. 

The next time you see Billy, you're at a party in the apartments near campus. People are crammed into the tight space, but the atmosphere is lively and warm. You and your friend stand in the kitchen, leaning against the island, cups in hand, already buzzed. 

“Didn’t she say where he’d been?” Your friend asks. Her eyes are covered in sparkly purple eyeshadow and dark liner. Her signature look. 

“You know my mom. She’s cryptic. All she said was my dad’s back and I need to come home over break.” 

She rolls her eyes. 

“Lame.”

“Lame is one word for it.” 

You drain your cup of its contents and then refill it, not enjoying the thought of being around your parents for the holidays. It’s not like they’re bad people, they just expect a lot which can be hard to stomach when your dad disappears whenever he wants to. Your mom doesn’t make it any easier by demanding you be the perfect child to him whenever he decides to be home. 

Your cup is mostly vodka with just enough cranberry juice to change the color. You slam it in less than a minute, making your friend laugh. 

“Fuck,” she giggles. “That’s better. Let’s talk about that fine-ass classmate of yours.”

“Let’s not,” you answer, but your face is already warming thinking about Billy. 

“Is he still with what’s her face?”

“Very much.”

“I don’t get that.”

“What’s not to get? She’s a nice enough girl and he’s about the most scrumptious guy I’ve ever seen.” 

She shakes her head. 

“Something’s off about it. Remember the episode of Catfish when it was really the dude’s cousin?”

You laugh.

“She was mad because he called her a fat-ass Kelly Price?”

“Yes! I knew, remember? I knew it was her all along! And when I think about you and this boy I get the same feeling, like the call is coming from inside the house.” 

The two of you are laughing about this when you glance over into the living room and spot him. You can’t help gasping and your friend quickly follows your gaze. He and Lauren are just arriving, looking around, Lauren spots a group of girls she knows and goes shrieking over to them with her arms outstretched. You turn before Billy can catch you looking. 

“Shit,” you mumble, taking another drink. 

“No, this is good,” your friend says, “You have to get to the bottom of this.”

“There is no bottom of it,” you say, the reality of the situation hitting you again. “He has a girlfriend, there’s nothing left to do.” You glance over your shoulder and see you’ve lost track of him. “In fact. I’m avoiding him.”

“You can’t be serious.” 

“I’ll be back and then we can leave.” 

You don’t listen to your friend’s pleas to stay, you move away in search of the bathroom. It’s at the end of a short hall, but as you’re on your way there, you see a bedroom door cracked open and movement catches your eye. Curiosity gets the better of you so you peek into the room, noticing a little black cat licking itself on the edge of the bed.

If you hadn’t been drunk, you would’ve kept moving, but you were drunk, more than you’d realized a second ago, and you couldn’t resist. You pushed into the quiet bedroom, gently closing the door behind you. The cat gave a curious, curling meow and watched you as you sat down beside it. 

“Hey kitty,” you called, softly.

It rose, curling its back into a stretch and then bumping its little head into your palm. It meows again, eagerly arching its body against you. 

“So sweet,” you coo, “Such a little sweetie baby, huh?” 

The cat meows and cranes up to sniff as you scratch under its chin. In your fuzzy vodka brain, it makes perfect sense to lay back and let the cat curl up on your belly, which it promptly does. It’s lying there purring when the door opens and you bolt upright, suddenly terrified that the person whose room this is has caught you. Instead, you’re terrified to see Billy.

You sit there with the cat in your lap, your body filling with warmth. As good as he looks at school, there’s something entirely different about him in this kind of setting. Something loosened. A sly smile spreads across his lips. 

“I knew it,” he says. 

“Knew what?”

“You’re the type to be at a party and go snooping around for the pet.” 

You laugh at yourself. 

“Well, this actually happened by accident.” 

“Sure.” 

There it is again: that comfortable stillness you keep feeling between the two of you. How can he just stand there not saying a thing and make you feel at home? You remember Lauren and look down at the cat. Its fur is so smooth and ink-black. Its eyes are an uncanny emerald color. 

“So, turns out I am going home for Christmas break.” 

“Couldn’t resist.” 

You smile at his sarcasm. 

“It’s really a favor to my mom. My dad’s home so it’s…I don’t know, it’s stupid. But I’ll be there ‘cause it’s family.”

You don’t look at him, but if you had you’d see such conflict in his eyes. 

“Figured out another thing I hate about non-verbal shit.” 

You look up then, as he crosses the space to sit beside you. The cat is immediately curious, stepping across your lap to carefully sniff and then headbut Billy’s thigh. 

“What's that?” 

“It leaves it all up to the other person. You make em’ watch you and read into everything. They end up feeling like a stalker. Then if they get it wrong, it’s like, this whole fantasy they had is just empty bullshit.” 

He’s tan, bringing his faint freckles into contrast. He smells like shampoo and cologne, and he’s warm. You can tell that when his hand brushes your thigh when he offers his palm to the cat.

“Funny,” you say, your voice has fallen soft and airy, but you don’t notice. You’re focused on his eyes “My introduction to you is all about how no-bullshit you are.” 

He smirks, but it’s without the usual mischief. 

“Better change that,” he says “I’m so full of shit I can’t stand it.”  

You stare at him for a moment, and he comes into focus then, in a new way. You understand something new about him and just as you expected, it feels incredible. 

“I get it now,” You say “The real reason you hate non-verbals.” 

A little glint of apprehension passes through his eyes. 

“Yeah?” 

“You hate them ‘cause you-” 

The door opens, and Lauren is there. Her smile falters into a lopsided grin. 

“There you are,” she chirps. “Not in the bathroom.” 

The two of them leave quickly, Billy tossing plastic parting words over his shoulder as he rushes away. You’re left in a stillness that doesn’t end when you get up to leave. It stays with you, burning and hollow. 

You’re having trouble focusing in class on Monday. Your professor is more than a little surprised to see you being so quiet, and when she asks if you have anything to add to the discussion you quietly explain that you’re not feeling well. She asks if you’d like to leave early and you take her up on the offer. Anything to get away from Billy and Lauren.

She’s been all over him, even more than usual and it’s hard to stomach. You keep thinking back to the party and your encounter with Billy. What had it meant? You felt like it was on the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t make anything crystalize into shape. Your head was drowned. 

Later, in the student center, you stare down at your paragraph. Nothing about it seemed right anymore and you kept re-structuring it. The paper was clogged with scribbles and strikethroughs. Your head was down, your hands framing your eyes as you stared down at the page and you didn’t look up when he sat down.

“Finish what you were saying the other night,” he says. 

“I don’t remember.”

“Of course you do.”

“I was drunk, Billy. Forget it. Please?” 

You hear him sigh and adjust in his chair. 

“It’s over with Lauren.” 

You look up and find his eyes are stone-cold and focused. His brows pinched.

 “Did you…?”

“I’m done with the bullshit, Y/n. Fuck bein’ scared. Fuck the non-verbal shit.”  

A jolt of energy zips up your spine, pulling you straighter in your seat. Your heart is pressed against your lungs as you watch his eyes, full of a new determination. 

“What does that mean?” you venture. 

His eyes take in your features, slowly, savoring the look of you. 

“I don’t have a fuckin letter of this speech written down because I’m such dogshit at explaining who you are. Maybe if I had a year I could get started but it’s impossible right now. So I’m failing this project. Which is fine. But I want that year, if I’m not getting the grade.” 

You’re stunned for a moment, until a ripple of laughter breaks the quiet. You share the joy, his smile evidence of an understanding. 

“Just a year?” You ask.

“Enough to get started,” he says “That’s maybe half a sentence.” 

“How much time would it take?”

“How much do you have?”

You laugh again, a palm over your heated face. 

“I can’t believe this,” you say, then look at him, astonished. “I was right. You’re total shit at saying how you feel.”

He smiles and shrugs. 

“Told you.” 

“Yeah," you say, "that you tell me.”

Dividers from saradika-graphics

Photos from Pinterest

[helloaugustmoon]

this is so classic wattpad plot but I literally do not care

Michael Jackson x she/her!reader

·˚ ◌༘͙[Keep The Faith] ! ˊ

Fishing has been one of Michael’s favorite hobbies for some time. Not in the traditional sense - he cannot sit still for long enough to actually go fishing - but rather by his own definition. Whether it be peering at the faces in the crowd at a concert, seeing faces pressed against the windows of cars and buildings he’s in, fishing is a term that Michael dedicates to peacefully viewing pretty creatures that appear just to see him when he’s passing through. In no way is it dehumanizing; he views it as comparing people to other beautiful things in nature, and in a comical sense too, of course. By now, his team is well aware of his traditions when it comes to fishing, only laughing along and agreeing with his comments pertaining to ‘nice fish’, all in jest and never something he’d consider seriously pursuing; he’d feel he had too much power over a fan that it wouldn’t be fair or just, it would be taking advantage, and that’s not something that sits well with him.

That is, until your face catches his eye.

Fan after fan came and went, greeting Michael and taking pictures while he signed their copies of ‘Bad’ and gifted him their most sincere praises. It was certainly lovely, never something he takes for granted, but to an extent, the social scale of the event can become quite tiring. He’s grateful the line is nearing its end, hoping that soon enough, he’ll be able to rest. But when Michael lifts his gaze from the table in front of him and his eyes meet yours, when he sees your smile- he swears to every holy thing he’s ever known, his heart stops. You aren’t screaming or hyperventilating, but you are trembling in a way that stirs the gentleman in him, wishing the circumstances would allow for him to perhaps offer his jacket to you. The smile on your face as you look at Michael is reflected right back at you, and his previous idea of having any power over a fan is single handedly erased by the existence of you. In that moment, had you wished it, he’d have dropped to one knee and ripped his own heart out to offer it to you. One word from you, and he’d do anything for you. All you had to do, was-

“Hi, Michael.”

And he’s yours.

Your voice is the sweetest melody he’s ever heard, and he already knows it’ll inspire more songs than anything ever has before. You are the siren to lull him to sleep, to guide him to the pearly gates of heaven someday, and he is nothing if not a devout worshiper at the altar that is you.

“I don’t want to take up too much of your time, you’ve already been here so long- but, I just wanted to thank you for the music you make and the message of love that-“

Is now and has only ever been meant for you, he realizes.

Words continue to fall from your lips like a steady stream, a peaceful and thought-out poem that touches every part of Michael’s very soul. And he sits there, smiling up at you as you stand before him, in absolute awe of you. The stars of the night couldn’t hope to hold a candle to the ones in your eyes.

“You don’t need to thank me, it’s my pleasure. It brings me joy to know that my music brings you joy, too.” He answers, his own voice softer than he’s ever heard it.

Your smile turns shy, then, and Michael wishes he had the kind of magic to seal this moment in a bottle, or lock it away in a drawer, so that on the lonely nights he foresees in his future he might gaze upon this moment again. You.

“What’s your name?” He asks you, the question feeling more like a desperate plea than a general curiosity, and when you do tell him your name, it’s immediately stitched into the very fabric of his being.

He wants to compliment your name for how pretty it sounds, how well it suits you, how he’ll close his eyes and whisper it to the sky before he falls asleep and wishes for you without being capable of waiting for a shooting star to do so. He wants to, more than anything. But for risk of seeming too forward, Michael only allows his smile to widen, tells you it was wonderful meeting you, that he hopes you’ll have a pleasant rest of your day, and then passes you back your copy of his album - signed with his name and a kiss that he simply couldn’t resist leaving for you.

Michael’s team exchange glances when his eyes linger on you, watching you leave until you are completely out of sight. At which time, he releases a sigh that is impossible to mistake as anything other than a swoon. With his longing being so obvious, a member of Michael’s team steps forward.

“Would you like us to ensure tickets for tomorrow night’s show, Sir?” The security guard offers, and is surprised when Michael only shakes his head, not offering a verbal answer as he turns his attention to the next person in line.

That night, Michael is ringing up an impressive phone bill from his hotel room, rambling to Janet about every shade in your eyes, every intricacy of you, every cadence you spoke in. After an hour, he finally leaves enough time for his sister to actually respond.

“So you made certain she’ll be at the show tomorrow, right?” It almost sounds rhetorical, not to mention sarcastic, coming from Janet - not that either would surprise Michael.

“No, no,” He shakes his head, leaning against the wall as he holds the phone to his ear, careful not to step too far from the cord. “I don’t want to enforce or engineer anything- that’s not love, that’s a script. If I’m meant to see her again, I will.”

Janet sighs at this, knowing Michael’s mind is set and that means he’ll be too stubborn to consider any alternative; his views on love and fairytales are so absolute, he’d rather spend a lifetime waiting for you and loving you anyway, than use the powers at his disposal to set up a meeting that could lead to a love story.

That said, Janet also knows that for you to have captured Michael’s attention so, you must be some girl. Women have thrown themselves at him from the moment he entered the spotlight - for him to not only notice one amongst the rest, but yearn for you so obviously and without any trace of hesitance, you must be something special. For that, Janet can only pray alongside Michael that somehow, some way, you will find your way back to him.

During rehearsals the following day, Michael finds himself envisioning you in front of the stage, using the idea of dancing to impress you, to woo you as his motivation for giving the performance tonight everything he’s got. No matter how bright the overhead lights of the stadium are, he can picture your smile widening when he dances around onstage, pointing at you as a means of dedicating the song to you, and you alone. He intends to do so regardless of the fact you won’t actually be there. Perhaps he’ll point at the stars, lest you see the footage and misunderstand that he’d ever point at another girl again.

The screams of the crowd do little to quiet the thoughts of you that continue to whirl around the mind of a lyrical genius, even when he runs out onstage to greet them. Breaking into the first song of the night, Michael puts his all into his performance as he always does, but can't help feeling that tonight he has a heavenly blessing in the form of your smile lingering in his thoughts, pushing him that little bit harder. It isn’t until the end of the first song that Michael stops moving for long enough to scan the faces he can actually see from where he stands, the distance from the stage to the front row being further than he’d like. Pausing only momentarily for a brief interval of fishing, Michael’s eyes trace over the front row. And then, he does a double take.

His heart must have been playing a trick on his eyes, surely.

He looks back again, feeling an irregularity in his own pulse when he struggles to find you in the sea of faces again, until whoever had been cruel enough to temporarily block the view of you happens to move just enough for Michael to see you again. Front row, clinging to the barricade like your life depends on it. And you’re smiling at him just the same.

His eyes lock with yours, the band behind him exchanging confused glances. By now, Michael should have given the cue for the second song to start, but the perfectionist has been entirely distracted by the very definition of perfect that he’s been waiting his whole life for. It takes several seconds for him to accept the reality that you really are right there, but as soon as he does, the smile on his face is so big he’s concerned it’ll split his face in half. Giving the cue for the second song to start, Michael points right at you.

“You knock me off of my feet now baby, HOO!”

Throughout ‘The Way You Make Me Feel’, Michael’s gaze connects with yours, and he doesn’t shy away from devoting the song to you in every way he can. If it weren’t for the rehearsed role of the woman onstage that he’s barely even noticing, he’d have pulled you up here with him. Instead, Michael settles for pointing at you, winking at you, and holding your gaze while singing lyrics and dancing in ways that leave no room for misinterpretation.

He continues this for the remainder of the setlist, a plan forming in his head over the course of the next few songs. Because now that divine intervention has resulted in you being right here with him again, who is he to stand and do nothing in the face of that? Of you?

With the instrumental for Liberian Girl beginning behind him, Michael sets his plan into action. Against the better judgment of his security, he jumps from the edge of the stage, making a beeline for where you stand in the front row, every face except yours blurring into his peripheral vision, the increasing volume of the screams of the crowd fading into nothing with the way your smile brightens, the closer he gets to you. Realizing how disastrous this could be, Michael’s security lunge forward to lift you over to the barrier, holding back the other fans that try to climb over with you. And then, Michael’s hand is taking yours, holding it so gently, his free hand bringing his mic back to his lips.

“Liberian girl, you came and you changed my world, a love so brand new…” He sings, eyes holding yours with reverie as he guides you by the hand until you’re standing onstage with him.

The very second there’s enough time in between lyrics, Michael lifts your hand to kiss your knuckles, and that shy smile he’s already dreamt of appears on your face again. With the gentlest movement, he pulls you closer to him, inviting you to erase the distance that he’s desperate to be without, and you’re hardly going to hesitate. You let go of his hand to instead wrap both of your arms around his neck, and Michael has never cursed not having a headset more than on the occasion that he can now only hold your waist with one arm because he’s required to use the other to hold up his microphone. Sometimes, the world is too cruel to comprehend, he thinks. Still, a man can't complain about getting to hold you in any capacity.

“More precious than any pearl…” Michael sings, his voice soft in your ear, intimate despite the scale of the concert itself that surrounds you.

Unable to resist the urge a moment longer, he starts to sway with you in time with the music, melting into the most perfect slow dance on a stage with an audience of thousands, but feeling like the only two souls in the universe.

When the song draws to a close with notes that have you ascending to an astral plane, the crowd screams with enthusiasm like never before, and Michael lowers his microphone. Wrapping both arms around your waist at long last, he leans to your ear to ensure that you can hear him.

“I prayed I’d see you again.” He tells you, his voice so sincere.

“You must be on pretty good terms with God, then.” It’s all you can do to prevent yourself from collapsing in his arms at words like the ones he just spoke.

“I think I must be.” Michael chuckles. “Now, I owe him more than ever.” His arms tighten around your waist, and your heart splutters in your chest.

Knowing that this moment is one that needs to be put on hold for now, Michael sighs, moving one hand to hold the back of your head.

“Would you mind waiting for me, backstage?” He wonders, and when you shake your head into the crook of his neck, his entire body relaxes with relief.

“See you after. Break a leg.” You wish Michael luck, surprising him with a kiss on his cheek and then stepping away from him.

His hand trails down your arm, to your wrist, and holds your hand for every microsecond he can until you slip from his grasp, but his smile is unwavering. Michael watches you leave, waiting until you’re safely situated backstage with his best security guard at your side, and then he blows you a kiss that you catch in an instant. With an effortless, expert kick in the air, Michael breaks into his next song. And he cant help looking over at you longingly every so often, just to check the perfect vision of you is still there, still waiting for him. Still smiling at him.

[s9fti3]

Hey! If you're still accepting requests, can you imagine a Paul imprinted on a mermaid? Maybe she can get out of the water to see him or he can go to the beach to see her!

‘Everything that kills me, makes me feel alive’- Paul Lahote Headcannons!!

• To say he was surprised would be an understatement. He had only thought that wolves and vampires would roam around. So when finding out there were other creatures beyond the imagination of this shapeshifter had him shocked.

• He had been playing around with Seth, Jacob and Embry- running around, wrestling, kicking a ball around- he had seen you come up from the water with another person by your side. Your skin had water dripping from it, and your hair looked dry, not soaked at all.

• Your once fin/tail had turned into a neutral color bathing suit, adoring your colors and all. Hair, eyes, skin, and everything.

• Once Paul made eye contact with you, the wind that was once in his lungs had been knocked out of him with a large force. His heart pounded as he stared at you walking past him, laughing and talking with the other mermaid with you.

• Ignoring you was the best option for him, he would try to forget his feelings about falling for a “human”. But that one day changed, your classic love story. It had been a rather warmer day, while it was nice for humans, it felt like personal hell on earth for the wolves and their extremely high body temperature. He had come down to La Push to cool off in the water, with some other accompanying him. He had gone a bit farther out than the others. He had went under, than came back up to see someone swim up to the surface.

• You had asked him what he was doing, especially going far out into the sea creatures territory. Of course, confused, he informed you it belonged to the wolves and that there was no such thing as sea creatures. He believed that until he looked down and saw the shimmer of your tail. You guys had started to talk from the moment on, Paul being honest and thinking you were crazy.

• Days would pass and Paul would wait by the shore, hoping for you to come up- and you always did. You would bring him things you found at the bottom, shells, unique rocks, something cool that fell out of a boat and anything else.

• He has thought you were beautiful, something no one could compare to. A beauty that would have taken centuries to find once again. That night, he confessed to you under the finally not cloudy sky. He told you he imprinted on you, and that he cannot control it. Of course you were confused and a bit worried, but you gave him a shot.

• Everything went slow with you two, it took 3 weeks of dating to hold hands and than almost 2 months to go out in public together, 4 months just to kiss his cheek, and 6 months to meet his friends. He loved you and feared of losing you from how he acted and his temper. He couldn’t- more so wouldn’t- lose you. You were his, destined by design. It was meant to be this way.

• A year after dating, you had shared your first kiss. It was sweet, walking along the shore and talking about everything going on. He would stare at you on and on. You got self conscious for a moment, asking what was wrong or what was on you face.

“So- Paul are even listening?” You ask him, looking at him. “Hm? Yeah..” He says staring at your face with pure love and adoration. “What, is there something on my face?” You ask him again, reaching up to touch your face only to have your hand removed from your face to be met with Paul’s smile. “No, your gorgeous.” He says gently, taking your hand in his, pulling you closer and placing his free hand on your cheek. You looked at him, finally realizing this is where you wanna be as he dipped his head to place a small kiss on your lips.

[sturnioloshacker]

truth or dare - a chris sturniolo short

a/n: requested by anon; lowercase intended

summary: a game of truth or dare leads to a crush confession

the air was filled with laughter and exposed secrets as we all sat in a circle for game night. chris, matt, nick, madi, nate and i all decided to play a classic game of truth or dare. as the bottle spun, our nerves heightened and our deepest, darkest secrets were waiting to be revealed. the bottle slowed in speed, passing nick, passing madi and landing on me. crap.

“oh, y/n!” madi says in a sing-song voice.

“yeah?”

“will you tell the truth or shall i dare you to expose yourself?” she asks, as a mischievous grin spreads across her face.

i hesitated, glancing nervously at chris, who was sitting opposite me. i’ve had the biggest crush on chris since we first met at a movie premiere. nobody knows about this crush except for madi. i feel everyone’s eyes on me as they wait for me for my answer. 

“dare," i finally said, trying to mask my anxiety.

madi's eyes gleamed with mischief. oh no, she better not!

“i dare you to tell us who your crush is."

the room fell silent as everyone turned their attention to me. i feel my cheeks flush and my body go numb. she really went there. my heart races as i feel the panic rush through my body like an adrenaline rush, and without a word, i stand and bolt from the room, leaving everyone else stunned. 

“um. i think i messed up,” madi says, breaking the awkward silence.

“should someone go and see if she’s okay? i feel bad for her,” nate speaks up.

“i’ll go and check on her,” chris says, getting up from his spot and going to find me.

“and off the crush goes!” 

“madi!” nick yells.

“i’m going to shut up now as i'm a terrible bestie.”

i hear a faint knock against the bathroom door. hearing chris’s voice, my heart skips a beat. how did he find me so fast? i quickly wipe my tears to hide the evidence that i was crying from embarrassment and open the door. chris comes in and notices my rosy cheeks and watery eyes.

“have you been crying?”

i nod in shame and hang my head low as i feel more tears threatening to spill. chris pulls me into his embrace, rubbing my back as i softly sob into his chest. he pulls away and takes me by the hand to lead me into his bedroom. 

“so, um, madi kinda exposed you even more just before by saying that i’m your crush. is that true?”

“yeah. yeah it is. i just couldn’t say it in front of everyone, including you.”

“why? matt said his and nate said his. you know you can trust us, right?” chris smiled gently.

“i’m just scared that you don’t feel the same way and i didn’t want to say anything so i panicked because i didn’t think you’d like me the way i like you.”

chris held my hands and he looked right into my eyes. i feel his thumbs run along my hands, bringing me at ease. i watch as he leans in, his face coming within inches of mine. he closes the gap between us and i instantly feel fireworks go off in my stomach. the kiss is soft and passionate, like he’s been wanting to do this for so long. i smile into the kiss, slowly deepening it as i remove my hands from his and wrap them around his neck. i pull away and touch our foreheads together, the spark between us feeling so real.

“i like you, y/n, so much. i’ve had a crush on you for a while now too.”

“really?”

“really.”

i close the gap between us again, this time the kiss is more passionate and fiery, our tongues colliding as we fight for dominance. chris wins as he pushes me against the bathroom sink. the kiss is so addicting, it’s like a drug. i just can’t seem to stop myself. i feel chris’s hands slide down my waist and to my bum, giving it a slight squeeze, making me jump. our heated makeout session is interrupted for a loud screech.

“what’s this?! oh my god!” matt yells in excitement as he finds his brother and myself pressed up against each other.

the other three come rushing to find us up against one another, our hair all messed up and clothes wrinkled. cheers and screams sounded off as we all crushed into a big group hug. 

“i’m not a terrible bestie anymore! from now on, you can call me madi the truth or dare matchmaker.”

we all laugh at madi’s comment before heading back downstairs to continue where we left off. sitting back in our original positions, we continue our game.

“so, y/n. i dare you to tell us who your crush is.”

“my crush is christopher owen sturniolo and i like him so much.” i proudly say with my chest.

i’m met with “awww” and “oooh” before we all burst into laughter. truth or dare continues into the night, from lap dances to kisses to exposing naughty secrets. i glance over at chris and we make eye contact. smiling, he gestures for me to come over to his side. i sneakily make my way over and he pats his lap. i slowly place myself in his lap and his arms immediately wrap around my waist, his head leaning on my shoulder. i spend the rest of the game in chris’s lap, kissing him and leaning against him. 

[derfpossessions]

Rented You Out - Part 4

Our story continues on with Denholm and Markus searching for a new client that is willing to rent Denholm’s body out for a spin. The hospital bills are rising up again, and the two needs their classic gig to pay out the loans.

While they were there, a woman named Natasha approached them and heard of their services. “Heyy, you’re that Denholm guy that can be rented from the black market right?” She giggled. “Uhhh.. yeah, but I don’t remember someone booking an appointment with me today..” He replied.

“Oh come on, I just decided I’d come and see you in-person! So, when can I use you?” She slowly walked up to them. “Girl wait… so you’re the one using his body?”, Markus said, who is starting to get suspicious about her. “You think only men can try out men bodysuits?? Stop with the gender roles!” She got lowkey pissed.

“Anyways, can I try it on first before I settle with the deal?” She couldn’t resist her temptation to try on the suit. “Ok, I’ll show you right now..” Denholm taps the button and he goes into suit-mode. Natasha entered his body and it and opened her eyes in his new masculine physique.

“Woahh.. something’s hard down there! Omg this is sooo fucking cool!” She was giggling as she felt Denholm’s cock.

“It must be fun being a man you know, I’m doing this for a social experiment for my case study.” She added, while looking enthusiastic. She then started rubbing in his body and looked at her new reflection in the phone camera. “Ok time’s up girl the free trial’s over. get out of him.” Markus said as he unzipped Denholm and pulled her out. “Ok I think I like it! I would pay more if you want!” She said.

“Uhh.. well I better get ready then. Just so you know you have to make the payment first before you’ll be able to use the suit.” Denholm said nervously.

“Ok ok. No rush, take your time and I’ll meet you tonight.” She said and then left the two. The two then continued on going to class.

“Are you sure you want that girl to use your body? She sounds like she’s on meth!” Markus told Denholm while walking down the hallway.

“Well if she’s paying anyway then we can’t refuse on a customer.” Denholm sighed. Things are about to get strange from this point onward.

While they were walking they saw a peculiar man cleaning the windows. With him he had a large cart full of boxes. “That’s weird, I never noticed that staff here before.” Markus told Denholm. As they passed by the man, they accidentally knocked off one of the boxes, and the man panicked an stormed off with the cart. “Bro what’s wrong with that guy?” Denholm said while Markus looks down to see the weird box. Inside the box there’s a garbage bag sealed with duct tape. The box was a quite heavy, so they brought it to a nearby classroom.

To their surprise, there was something rubbery-like in the bag, and when they opened it, it’s a folded up bodysuit.

“Woah what the fuck?!” The two got shocked by the looks of the bodysuit. They carefully undressed the man from the formal suit he was wearing. It was a little bit drenched in sweat, and the it smelled like it just came fresh from the gym. “Holyyyy shittt?!!” Markus screamed as they started unfolding the suit on top of the table.

It was a bodysuit of a man, probably in his early 20s, and is ethnically East Asian. “Well he looks like your local gym rat, and a total fuckboy.” Markus jokingly said (he was right tho). “So, looks like there’s a lot more bodysuits out there, not just me.” Denholm said while touching the man’s deflated rubbery arm. They tried flipping the man over to see if he has a switch that is similar to Denholm’s. “Let’s bring this man back to life shall we?” Markus said. They flipped the switch, but there was no response. The suit remained a little deflated, and hollow. The two started getting scared. “Don’t tell me.. don’t tell me this guy is dead..” Denholm was shaking.

“Found one of them I see?” Mr Singh came in to join the fun. The two gasped. “What are you doing here?!”

“Well I knew one day you two would see the others.”

Denholm: “What do you mean… the others..??”

Singh: “You see, your case as a bodysuit isn’t as rare as you might think. Lots of people around this city, fall bait into the numerous kidnappings that occurred. They get taken away in a van, never to be seen again.”

“What happens to them next? They’ll be put in a large factory where humans are transformed into bodysuits. Their organs, their insides are replaced and retrofitted to become a fully wearable suit, or whatever the fuck magic they do in that place.”

“You should be very grateful you’re even alive. Some people like you do survive the suit process and manage to escape, not knowing how to be able to cope with their lives being changed forever. And then there’s the unfortunate people. The ones who are put into the deep sleep, and forced to be worn as lifeless mascot suits for the rest of their lives. The people who wear them have full access to their past lives and memories, and may choose to continue on that original life, or reinvent their past lives, or a mixture of both.”

“That man right there… had a girlfriend, aiming for his degree in Engineering, getting ripped at the gym. all of that was taken away from him on one night. Now it’s up to his users if they want to live upon his legacy.”

“That’s all I know for now. I don’t know if there’s ever a cure to this condition of being converted into a suit, but it really sucks for these people.”

Denholm got furious. “I must stop this madness then. I’m gonna put an end to it.”

Markus stopped him, “Are you stupid?! You almost got killed yourself! Our goal is to stay out of from their sight as much as possible!”

“Markus is right. Don’t worry, it will all be better soon.” Mr Singh said. “Well I gotta go teach my class now. You two, stay safe and don’t get yourselves into trouble.”

Markus carried the suit to the backroom. “Hey, one more thing Denny.” Singh grinned.

“With those hot charisma you have, you sure ARE a great kisser.” Singh winked and left. (see part 2 if u dont get what he meant)

“Wha… what did he meant?” Denholm was in shock.

“Nothing! just some side jobs while he was renting you out!” Markus was sweating and turned around from Denholm to avoid eye contact.

“Listen. I trusted you into making sure I don’t get harmed in any way but if you get your weird shit into the conversation I will won’t hesitate to-“ a thud was suddenly heard.

“-to give you all the love you want and need.. babe.”

“What..?” Markus was frozen. Whatever the fuck he heard wasn’t Denholm.

“MR SINGH?!! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING INSIDE HIM?!!” Markus screamed.

“I’m trying to save you from getting beaten up! Now go clean this mess up!” Singh laughed.

“Well on one thought.. I think I do want a kiss..” Markus leaned forward from good old Denny and they had a mouth to mouth embracement, with their tongues locking intertwined, forming a heart shape from the divine.

“Pull down your pants. This will only take 8 minutes trust me.” Singh giggled as he took off Denny’s hoodie.

And then the rest is history…

- TO BE CONTINUED -

[cantstoptheimagines]

Date Stealer (Ahkmenrah | Night at the Museum)

Summary — Larry accidentally made the museum residents believe he had a date to their Valentine’s Day party, and now you’re caught in the crossfire. Not to mention, there’s a super attractive pharaoh in the room.

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Nothing but general fluffiness.

Notes ➳ ‘Can’t Stop the Love’ Event (8/14) ➳ Word Count is 740.  ➳ Reader is gender neutral (they/them).

FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule 

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

Larry sent you yet another apologetic glance. His hand were shoved deep into his pockets as he walked next to you along the sidewalk. Each of you left a trail of footprints in the fresh dusting of snow.

“I can’t believe I talked you into this,” muttered Larry. “I really owe you one.”

“Why didn’t you just tell them you didn’t have a date?” you asked. “Would’ve saved both of us a lot of trouble.” 

“I don’t know!” he groaned, tossing his head back and slowly opening the door to the museum. “Look, help me out! It’s just for tonight, I promise—!”

“You two made it!”

Your conversation came to a halt. A small thud against your ankle made you look down. Your eyes were met by a familiar toy car. Jed and Octavius waved at both of you with wide smiles.

“Hey, guys,” you greeted. “You both look like you’re having fun.”

“Always!” replied Jed. “It’s not a party without us!”

“We hope you share an evening filled with love!” grinned Octavius.

With that, the toy car zoomed away. Some glittery decorations in various shades of classic Valentine’s Day colors trailed behind it, along with Rexy’s favorite bone. Speaking of which, Rexy wasn’t too far behind the toy car, nearly knocking you and Larry over with his tail as he roared loudly.

Larry laughed, patting you on the shoulder, “I’m gonna find Teddy. I wanna see if he actually asked Sacagawea to be his date tonight.”

“Alright,” you nodded. “I’m gonna get a drink. You want anything?”

He paused to think for a moment, and then shrugged, “Punch? If we’ve got it tonight.”

“On it,” you smiled. “See you in a few minutes.”

The two of you split up. Larry began searching the crowd for Teddy while you made your way to the snack tables. Your ‘date’ was in luck since there was punch tonight.

As you grabbed two cups, a voice drew your attention away from your task, “You came.”

As if your night couldn’t get any better, before you stood Ahkmenrah. Your eyes widened and your heartbeat quickened. Draped in golden fabrics and dazzling jewels, he smiled at you.

To most, it was probably obvious that you had a small crush on the Pharaoh. To Ahkmenrah, the source of your admiration, however, seemed to have no earthly clue about your feelings. 

“So happy you could make it!” he exclaimed, before taking the cups out of your hands. “Let me help you with those!”

“Thanks,” you squeaked, nearly grimacing at your reaction, though Ahkmenrah didn’t seem to notice.

As he began pouring some punch into the cups, he asked, “You decided to accept Larry’s invitation then?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, “but it’s just a friendly thing.”

“I see,” he smiled, passing you one of the drinks. “So he wouldn’t be particularly upset if I stole you away for a moment or two?”

You paused at his question. He wasn’t looking at you. Instead, his eyes were focused on the dance floor filled with the other museum inhabitants.

“What does that mean exactly?” you finally asked.

Side by side, his shoulder brushed against yours as he leaned closer, and then quietly whispered, “I believe Larry thought he was doing me a favor by bringing you to our party tonight.”

You tilted your head and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “A favor?”

He nodded, “I wanted you to come, but I was far too shy. I suspect that’s why Larry chose to ask you to attend instead of someone else.”

“Too shy?” you chuckled, nearly shaking your head at the very thought. “I can barely even talk to you most of the time.”

Ahkmenrah felt his cheeks become warm, and then he whispered, “Really?”

You nodded. Across the room, you met Larry’s gaze. He was beaming from ear to ear as he watched you talk to Ahkmenrah. You shook your head and turned away to ignore him.

“You know,” you muttered, returning to attention to Ahkmenrah, “I don’t think Larry would mind very much if you ‘stole me away’.”

He looked at you in surprise. After realizing you were being serious about your suggestion, he held out his hand and then smiled, “Have you ever seen my tomb?”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, but took his hand in yours nonetheless. This was going to be an interesting relationship to say the least.

[fairy-writes]

Hey!!! Love your work!!! I was wondering if you could write literally anything about Sean Renard maybe some tooth rotting fluff. I just love him and it’s sad that not many people know about Grimm or even write about it.

IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): NBC Grimm

Pairing(s): Sean Renard x Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Short!Reader (mostly because Renard is a freaking giant at 6’5”), Renard is sick

Notes: Ok but I’m loving writing for Grimm again. Thanks for requesting lovely!

__________________________________________________________________________

“You look like shit.” You blurt the second Sean Renard opens the door to his own home. He scowls down at you, and you scowl right back. There’s deep bags under his eyes and a sickly parlor to his sweat soaked skin. He’s dressed in a rumpled hoodie and sweatpants that you didn’t even know he owned. 

Since when did he own sweatpants?

Or a hoodie for that matter? 

And what’s even worse, he can barely stand up straight, leaning heavily on the doorframe. 

“You’re so kind.” He says and opens the door wider so you can come inside. 

You make your way to the dining room where you set bags of groceries on the table and turn with your hands on your hips.

“When you said you were sick, I didn’t think you were literally dying.” You say as you give him a once over as he stuffs his hands in his hoodie pockets.

“I’m not dying.” He says and you roll your eyes,

“Coulda fooled me. I didn’t even know you owned sweatpants.” You turn back to your bags and rifle through them, tossing him a bottle of Gatorade and gesturing for him to go sit down.

You meander your way around his kitchen, cleaning the dirty dishes and disinfecting the counters before pulling out some ingredients for a simple chicken noodle soup.

It was a classic and easy and good for someone who was sick. Especially the giant of a man who was sprawled out on the couch in the living room.

As you cook, you put the tea kettle on and keep an eye on him. You’re able to spot his head lolling back against the couch pillows and you can hear the tell tale sound of book pages turning and the occasional sniffling. 

Typically he’s at least in the kitchen with you while you cook. But you figured you’d make an exception just this once.

Soon enough, the food is done and you bring a mug of herbal tea and a bowl of soup on a TV dinner tray where Sean is waiting. He’a reading some philosophy book that you don’t care to read the title of. You can see where he’s marked certain passages or used miscellaneous scraps of paper as bookmarks.

He always did love a good book.

“Did you start that book I lent you?” You ask as you set down the tray and start cleaning up his space. Random book piles are straightened on the coffee table and old dishes are taken to the sink.

He really must be sick if his house is this messy.

Sean sits up and sets his book atop the most recent pile of books. These ones are in various languages that you can’t even begin to read. French. Arabic. Russian. And was that Latin? Who even wrote Latin books anymore?

“I started it. Couldn’t get into it.” Sean says, snapping you from your musings. You hum as you take the half finished Gatorade and hand him the soup. He says a quiet thank you before digging in.

“It takes a bit to get going. But I think you’ll like it eventually. If not, I have plenty of other things to recommend to you.” You reply and he merely grunts through a mouthful of noodles. You finish folding a blanket and flop into the armchair beside the couch, letting him eat in a warm, blissful silence.

“You don’t have to stay, you know.” Sean says as he follows you up the stairs and into his bedroom. You begin to rifle through his en-suite bathroom cabinets, looking for a thermometer.

It’s nowhere to be found.

“Yeah and ten bucks says you don’t make it to bed before passing out.” You retort absentmindedly, jerking up to look into the bedroom when you hear a thump.

It was just Sean tossing his book on the bedside table.

You huff and gently push him toward the bed. He moves without complaint and part of you wished he’d get sick more often. It wasn’t often that he was so obedient.

Luckily, Sean has some NyQuil in his cabinets so you pour him a dose and his nose scrunches as he makes a face.

“No thanks. I’m fine.” He tries, and you very nearly force his jaw open to pour it down his throat yourself.

“Drink this and don’t argue with me.” You say, exasperated.

After some back and forth, Sean finally takes the medicine and sags back into bed. You lean forward and press the back of your hand to his forehead,

“You’re burning up. Hopefully the meds will help.” You mumble and he catches your hand as you go to move away.

“Thank you.” He says seriously and you grin, reaching back to smooth his hair back over his sweaty forehead.

“It’s not a problem. I’m just a phone call away if you need me.” You say and lean down to press a quick kiss to his lips.

Hopefully it doesn’t get you sick.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hades, Nikola Tesla, Buddha, Jack, Kojirō Sasaki, and Beelzubub who had a lovely human wife that passed tragically. But to their surprise their wife is their opponent in ragnarok because-

A: They reincarnated as a human

or

B: They ascended to Godhood when they died ( pick Buddha and the humans for this one please 😊 )

Just want that classic Hurt/ comfort for this please.

-He could still remember that terrible day as if it was only moments ago.

-The day you were taken from him, dying to protect another.

-He remembers screaming your name, watching your body crumple to the ground with a dull thud, you had died instantly.

-He didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.

-So much time had passed since he last saw you, held you, there was not a day that passed where he didn’t remember your smile.

-When he was selected to fight next in Ragnarok, he was informed that his opponent changed at the last moment, which confused him as he walked out first, listening to both the cheers and the jeers from either side.

-The last person he was expecting to see was you, wearing a long flowing white gown with golden armor adorning your features, holding a matching sword and shield.

-Hades- He could only openly gawk, as did many others, seeing you there, you had been taken away so violently by a rouge god and Hades never forgave himself for not getting to your side quickly enough, he always blamed himself. To see you there, standing across from him as his opponent, as a human, reincarnated, Hades felt his throat tighten, joy swelling up inside of him. Your confident smile and the faint color in your cheeks made you so beautiful, you grinned, lowering your own weapons, “My love~” your embrace as he rushed you had both sides cheering loudly, as he picked you up and spun you, twirling you around, so happy to be together again. You didn’t fight, he refused to harm even a hair on your head, and you were the same, but none held it against the two of you as you walked out hand in hand, just as you should be. You explained to him later, once he had paused attacking your face with kisses, that your soul had been lost, wandering aimlessly, before you reincarnated as a human. Then when you died, Brunnhilde was the one to find you, to bring you back to him. As you were now a human, Hades’ view changed, wanting to save humanity, as you would perish a second time if the gods won, he couldn’t lose you a second time.

-Beelzebub- His eyes were wide in shock, frozen in place, he had to wonder if this was a cruel joke, a sick prank, someone using illusion magic, he couldn’t believe his eyes, seeing you across from him. You smiled softly at him, your sword and shield lowering, fondness in your eyes, which made his heart jolt in his chest, almost painfully. He mouthed your name, unable to find his voice before he approached you. You remained silent as his hand lifted to cup your cheek, feeling that you were real, you were really there. A tear appeared in the corner of your eye and his thumb brushed it away as it slipped down your cheek, a soft smile appearing on his lips. Zeus cupped his hands around his mouth, “Kiss her already!!” the crowd was quick to agree, cheering loudly, celebrating your reunion which made you giggle softly. He kissed you softly, but so passionately, one of your feet popped up, before he pulled away and instantly picked you up princess style and walked out, listening to the cheers of your reunion. Beelzebub was amazed when you told him how you had been reincarnated as a human and brought to Valhalla after your death by Brunnhilde, who knew to pair you with Beelzebub in the fights, to reunite you. Brunnhilde was surprised when she received a thank you letter from him two days later.

-Buddha- His mouth was open, just slightly in shock, seeing the battle maiden across from him, seeing that it was you, after all these years, now a god yourself, just like him. You smiled warmly at him, giving him a bright grin, one that was burned into his memory, “Hello Siddhartha, my love.” His heart swelled, hearing you call him by his original name, his prayer wheel falling to the ground and your weapons did the same as you ran to each other, embracing, your legs going around his waist, hugging each other so tightly if the other would vanish if you let go. Zeus was cheering loudly, a bright grin on his face, seeing the two of you together, even if you both made him want to pull his hair out. Gods and humans both cheered for the two of you, both knowing that you and Buddha were both originally human lovers and both ascending to godhood, now together again after all this time. Nobody was surprised when you both gave a big grin to the crowd before grabbing your weapons and headed out of the arena, hand in hand. Buddha wanted to know, later that day after hours of ‘getting reacquainted’, if you had been a god for so long, why hadn’t you come to him sooner. You explained that after your death, you were worshipped as a hero, and that kept you bound to earth, unable to ascend, until you were able to obtain enough power to do so and with it came your godhood.

-Tesla- The smile on his face was a big as the sun, Gondul unfused with him, a smile on her face as he immediately ran for you, “Y/N!” your weapons fell as giggles bubbled out, his hands meeting your waist and spinning you around rapidly before pulling you into his arms, hugging you tightly. He tilted your face up and kissed you passionately, which made the crowd cheer loudly while Gondul giggled softly, “So youthful~” many of the gods were lamenting the loss of you, but you had been refusing gods for years now, as your heart belonged to another and would always belong to him. Zeus and Brunnhilde both sent each other a small nod in agreement, not going to make you fight each other, allowing this battle to end in a draw without a fight. Nikola was glued to you once you went back to your private waiting room, having you sit on his lap as he admired every part of you, seeing that your sparkling eyes and stunning smile were just as beautiful as the day that he lost you. He was very enthusiastic to learn about your ascension, his science side taking over as he wanted to know everything about it, which you thought was cute, but that was one of the things that made you fall in love with him all over again, happy to oblige his curious nature.

-Kojiro- Despite being way older than the last time you both met, as you passed a year before he did, you could still recognize him, you knew that the man across the arena from you was Kojiro, your Kojiro. He was stunned, mouth open just a hair, his eyes wide and quickly welling with tears, seeing you standing there, looking like an angel, his angel. Your weapons were quickly dropped, abandoned as the crowd cheered, seeing the reunion. Many knew your tale, as you died a hero, defending a child, and for your heroism, you ascended to Valhalla as a goddess, becoming a patron of children. Had you known Kojiro was here in Valhalla, you would have sought him out centuries ago, to reunite with the only man you had ever loved. Gods were jealous of Kojiro, as he ‘stole’ you away from them, but you had always been his. His hand lifted to your cheeks, feeling your soft skin under his calloused but strong hands, signs of his hard work and you smiled up at him, tears welling in your eyes before they fell and his tears soon joined as the crowd roared with cheers. Backstage in his room, he said nothing, only holding you close, he didn’t care that you were a goddess now, nothing else mattered to him other than holding you in his arms again, right where you were supposed to be.

Jack- His eyes were wide, immediately removing his monocle, to look at your soul, seeing blaring joy and love gazing back at him, those beautiful colors he had seen so long ago, those colors he missed each and every day. He couldn’t believe it, his breath catching in his throat as you smiled across the arena at him. He didn’t know how you were there or how you managed to ascend to becoming a goddess yourself, but you were there. Glokk unfused with him as he made it to you, a smile on her lips as his hands cupped your cheeks, all three of you ignoring the crowd, many who were upset that he was touching you in such an intimate way. Your hands lifted to cup his cheeks and he sighed, feeling your warmth on his face, his eyes closing, relaxing as he basked in your affections. The fight didn’t occur, but nobody expected it to, despite some wanting to see the villain that is Jack the Ripper get destroyed, you refused to fight the man you loved, and he couldn’t even think about harming a single hair on your head. In his private room, he held you for what felt like hours, you sitting in his lap, his arms around you, his head against your chest, hearing your heartbeat after so many years. The two of you didn’t need words spoken between you to know how each other felt.