#don’t wanna buy a whole other console

[emburbaguette]

That moment you go from knowing almost nothing about Baldur’s Gate 3 to almost everything bc they finally confirmed the Dragonborn race

[emmafallsinlove]

i really wanna buy nintendo switch just so i could play tears of the kingdom and breath of the wild so nintendo please be nice and release it to steam to make my life easier and help me save money <3

[beneathashadytree]

MESSING AROUND - JOSUKE HIGASHIKATA X READER

Warnings : just two teens being in love and all over each other, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : puppy love n fluff <3

Word count : 1.1K words

Additional notes : This came to me in a dream. Love the idea of teenagers being sneaky and lazy teehee

Tip jar if you’d like to buy me a Ko-Fi!

Masterlist

They tiredly rubbed at their eyes. What was this, the tenth, or the hundredth time at this? In all cases, it felt like it was a never-ending cycle that they were doomed to stay in.

“Josuke, would it really kill you to study for an hour straight?” Nudging the textbook on the coffee table, they tried to bring his attention back to the long-forgotten syllabus. “We’ve got a quiz in 3 days.”

“Still plenty of time, if you ask me,” he shrugged, not looking away from the television screen where he was trying to beat his high score (again) in one of his video games. “That’s a whole, uh, 72 hours.”

“If you hesitated while doing simple math, then I fear how you’ll face a few calculus problems.” Rolling their eyes, they sidled up to his back. “Come on. Didn’t Miss Tomoko threaten to smash the console if you don’t get at least a B+? With the looks of things, we’ll be lucky if you pass at all.”

Still without looking at them, he scowled. “First off, thanks for your obvious belief in me.” He could be petty when he wanted to, and this seemed like one of the times he wanted to pout and get snarky. “Second of all, she wouldn’t.”

At that, they arched an eyebrow at him. “Oh really? Did you forget that time she threw the television out of the window to keep her word when you flunked that history test?”

A few moments of silence, save for the sound effects coming from his game, and the furious tapping of buttons. “Alright, maybe she will. But still, we have a lot of time to go through the material.”

“Three days. Half of one you’ve already wasted, mind you.” They sighed, carefully wrapping their arms around his midsection and snuggling up to his broad back. A cheap trick, yes, but how else would they grab his attention without outright snatching the controller from his hands? “C’mon, Josuke. Miss Tomoko asked me to come over while she was out for this reason. I don’t wanna let her down, y’know?”

Josuke audibly swallowed, and they had to hold back a smug laugh. They had him right where they wanted him. “H-hey, who are you dating, me or my mom?”

They snorted, teasingly squeezing his waist. “My supposed-boyfriend’s got me right with him, and he’s been practically ignoring me for two hours. I’d say the answer’s currently neither of you.”

Instantly, the controller flew all across the room, landing somewhere unknown as his character on the screen crashed into explosives and died. Bingo, they wickedly thought to themself as Josuke finally turned around in their arms, his handsome face blocking out the ‘GAME OVER!’ flashing behind him.

Heavy eyebrows furrowed and lower lip jutted in a subconscious pout, he leaned in, caging them against the back of the sofa with his arms. “Dirty move.”

“You fell for it, though.” Grinning, they hooked their arms around his neck, tugging him a little closer. “Can’t believe I had to fight for your attention this long.”

“It slipped my mind that we’re finally alone,” he moaned pitifully, nudging their nose with his. “Next time I get distracted from you, punch me in the balls.” At the sinister look he saw in their eyes, he pulled back for a second, alarm on his face. “On second thought, I take that back. Don’t.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” Cocking their head to the side, they toyed with a few loose strands of hair at the nape of his neck. It was so rare to see his hair anything other than immaculately styled, so the rare chances that they got to touch the soft strands were deeply cherished—by the both of them, it seemed, if the current redness of Josuke’s cheeks was anything to go by. “Or would you rather I keep my hands on you?”

Their boyfriend buried his face in their neck, partially out of embarrassment, and partially out of a desire to press achingly gentle kisses against their exposed skin. “Mm, I don’t know,” he mumbled, “So long as you’re not too rough with me, I’d prefer that, yeah.”

“Oh? So you like to be treated gently, big guy?” Their voice came out a little breathy as he lightly nipped at that one spot on their neck, and they hoped that it wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he had them weak in his arms. Just a little more…

More kisses rained down on them, trailing up to their jaw and sucking at the skin there, just lightly enough to tease them without leaving a mark. A sigh escaped their lips, and their hands trailed down his back, gripping at his yellow tank top in hopes of regaining their sanity. Strong arms embraced them tightly, and arched their back into him.

“Yeah, so what?” he mumbled against the corner of their lips. “Got a problem with that?”

At the very last second before their lips met, they turned their face to the other side and pulled away. “Actually, I do. Because we’re not doing anything at all until you finish studying chapters one through four.”

Groaning, Josuke made to reach out for them as they slipped from his embrace and began to walk off. “Babe, you can’t be serious—“

“I am,” they coolly said, as if they hadn’t been seconds away from pulling him ontop of them. “Would you like me to call your mom and tell her you’re fooling around instead of getting your shit done?”

He shuddered, visibly recoiling at the thought and slumping back in place. “Don’t. She’ll probably put a ban on you ever visiting me when she’s out.”

Still a little shaken up and their nerves slightly tattered by the onslaught of intimacy, they hurried to his room, calling out behind them in a sing-song voice. “Well, these calculus problems aren’t gonna solve themselves!”

Collapsing onto his bed, they muffled a laugh as they heard him swearing and slamming his heavy notebook open, grumbling under his breath the entire time. In the meantime, they curled up into his freshly-made sheets and snuggled their head into his fluffy pillow.

“It smells like him,” they whispered to themself, their face flushed as they squeezed the pillow a little. Somehow, having their boyfriend’s familiar scent surrounding them from everywhere warmed them up to their fingertips, and sent their heart racing in their ribcage. “Wish he’d hurry up and join me before Miss Tomoko gets home…”

Taglist: @blondeboyfriend @mrsgiovanna @boorishbrambling

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[slxsherr]

You're My Favorite Explosion

read part I here and part II here

pairing: charlie walker x bimbo!fem!reader

summary: your relationship isn't perfect, but neither of you could imagine being with anyone else.

wc: 1558

warnings: fem!reader, cursing swearing, kinda angsty, oral sex (m!receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), creampie

bimbo!reader and charlie have a pretty chill senior year imo, since charlie’s busy with you he never gets roped into jill’s ghostface plan.

bimbo!reader ends up being pretty good friends with kirby, completely oblivious to her and charlie’s past. it leads to some awkward situations, but eventually you figure out it’s best not to involve the two. 

bimbo!reader buys charlie three months of a horror movie themed subscription box for christmas and he nearly screams when he opens it and a slasher’s head pops out like a jack in the box. he got you a heart locket with his initials engraved on the back, he’s embarrassed bc he thinks it’s cheesy but you love it. 

bimbo!reader is charlie’s first new year’s kiss, among other new year’s firsts ;)

bimbo!reader and charlie say “i love you” for the first time on valentine’s day. 

bimbo!reader and charlie go to the beach over spring break, and he nearly cums in his trunks when he sees you in your skimpy little bikini. he worries some surfer dude is gonna steal you away from him, but his worries are quickly laid to rest when you spend the whole time doting on him. you’re worried he’s gonna burn, he’s so pale, so you make sure he reapplies sunblock and ask him to get your back and shoulders bc “skin cancer isn’t sexy, baby”.

bimbo!reader gets upset during prom season, charlie never asks you to be his date so you feel like he doesn’t wanna go. he just thought it was implied you were going together, plans a cheesy promposal to make it up to you.

bimbo!reader gets nominated for prom queen and actually wins, but refuses to dance with the prom king bc you don’t wanna dance with anyone else but charlie. 

bimbo!reader almost doesn’t graduate bc of some misunderstandings in class, but charlie helps you appeal to the teachers and turn in your missing assignments so you can graduate. 

bimbo!reader throws charlie a party when he gets accepted as a film major at usc.

bimbo!reader drags charlie to parties, beaches, concerts, anything to spend time with him before he leaves for college, since you're not going to the same one as him.

bimbo!reader and charlie get into an argument before he leaves, he says things he doesn't mean, things he shouldn't have said, and you let him know that he's free to fuck whoever he wants at usc since he's single now.

college!charlie regrets the whole stupid argument, his first few weeks of college are shit bc everyone is more pretentious than him, none of the girls are you, and he's pretty sure his roommate has been using his shampoo.

college!charlie leaves a party early when a drunk girl tries making out with him, her lipgloss is nauseating, and he misses your soft, fruit flavored kisses.

college!charlie finds you walking down greek row on his way back to his dorm, crying with your heels in hand, and he doesn't hesitate to console you.

“Why are you crying?,” Charlie asks, standing in front of you, surprising you. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, tone accusatory, ignoring his question.

“I should be asking you that question, but I’m not. Why are you crying?” He repeats his question, watching your mascara run down your cheeks as you sniffle. 

“I got dragged to a stupid frat party,” you answer, throwing your arms over his shoulders to pull him into a hug. 

“Is that it? Nothing happened?” He asks, his own arms wrapping around your waist and holding you close to him. 

“Not really, I just wish you were with me,” you say, and Charlie can feel your tears through his shirt, dampening his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice cracking as he holds back his own tears. “I’m so sorry.”

“Can I stay with you tonight?” You ask, ignoring his apology. 

“Anything you want,” he says, and the two of you separate to begin walking to his dorm. 

It’s almost as if nothing has changed, Charlie is the same as before you broke up, offering to switch shoes so you don’t have to walk barefoot. He stumbles at first in your heels, but once you manage to give him tips through your laughs he’s able to walk normally. Thankfully his dorm isn’t far, soon you’re both in the elevator, and he’s able to shamelessly take off your heels to walk down the hall to his room. 

Charlie has half a mind to block the door with a chair, but figures his roommate will just go home with a friend or a girl from the party he left him at. Instead, he focuses his attention on you, watching you strip out of your revealing outfit and going through his dresser to wear one of his shirts. He wonders if this is what you would’ve done every weekend if he hadn’t said what he said when the two of you had that stupid fight, but he tries not to think about it too much as he changes clothes and joins you in his twin bed, way too small for both of you and forcing you closer together. 

“I forgive you, Charlie,” you say after a while, head resting on his chest, your breaths syncing with his as the two of you begin to doze off. 

“Thank you,” he says, voice soft as his eyes well with tears.

“I love you, baby,” you say, moving on top of him, straddling his hips. “I love you so much,” you say again, leaning down to kiss him, and he can taste the faint trace of fruity lipgloss you wear, most likely having worn off throughout the night.

“I love you too,” he says when your lips separate from his, feeling you pepper kisses across his face. “I’ve missed you so much,” he says, hands massaging your hips as you grind on him, your kisses trailing lower, across his jawline and down his neck. 

“Me too, missed you so much,” you say, moving down the bed, pulling down his boxers to reveal his half-formed erection. 

You don’t waste time, spitting in your palm to wrap around his shaft and licking at the tip languidly. It gets messy quickly, as he leaks pre and hardens fully, you start drooling. Your own underwear is damp just from listening to his moans, walls clenching around nothing when you hear him whimper when you suck on his tip. He pulls you away from his dick, and you move back up the bed to kiss him at his request. 

“You don’t have to do that, let me–” he says, trying to switch positions, but you stop him. 

“No, I wanna ride you,” you say, lining him up with your entrance, your underwear pushed to the side, sitting on his cock before he can try to flip you over again.

“Fuck,” he moans, feeling your tight walls for the first time since before the semester started, holding your hips in a bruising grip to keep you from moving. 

Your nails scratch against his lower stomach, leaving thin red lines as you try to move, desperate for any movement. Throughout your breakup, you had been far too miserable to try to find someone else, and your sex drive had almost completely disappeared once your pretty boyfriend wasn’t around. Now that he’s under you, buried deep inside you, stretching you on his cock and setting a fire inside you, you can’t hold back. 

Prying his hands off your hips and holding them down on either side of his head is easier than you thought, and you intertwine your fingers as you lift your hips up, squeezing them when you slam your hips back down. His voice is heavenly, encouraging you to keep a steady pace as you bounce on his dick, moaning wantonly as you connect your lips to his in a sloppy kiss.

It’s messy, desperate sex, both of you giving and taking pleasure from the other, eager to let the other know how much they were missed. You let go of his hands to move his hair out of his face, gripping the dark locks when his hands grope your tits, pinching your nipples before moving down to tease your clit. 

Your pace falters from the sudden stimulation, and he takes the opportunity to plant his feet and grab your hips, fucking up into you at a faster pace. He reaches deeper this way, making you keen in his ear as the two of you approach orgasm. Thin red lines run from his shoulders to his chest, your nails marking him as he pinches your clit, and you cry out as he keeps fucking you through your release. 

“Fuck, baby, just a bit more,” he says, voice strained, feeling you shake as you tense up in pleasure. 

Your words are more like whines, slurring out barely comprehensible ‘i love you's and begging for him to cum. It’s what sends him over the edge, hearing you begging for him to finish, and his pace falters as he cums inside you, haphazardly bucking up into you as he rides out his high.

For the first time since he started college, Charlie falls asleep peacefully, your warmth soothing him. It’s easy to drift off when he doesn’t have guilt, remorse, and longing gnawing at his heart.

[bluerskiees]

I’m obsessed right now with this idea: old mikey. And i don’t just mean haha he be a grandpa and take care of his grandchild- no i mean, cultural weirdness in elderly people, new habits, appearances, how he treats his life partners even in there old ages. I want everything that comes out of. Your. Head!

… as headcanons

Pretty please ❤️

OLD AGE MIKEY HEADCANONS - ☁️

☆ Won't have kids because he's afraid he may hurt them.

☆ But he does go to orphanages everyday/ whenever he can and play with those kids.

☆ Considers them as his own children. So don't try to play any tricks unless you wanna be 6ft underground. 

☆ That's how he met you. In the orphanage.

☆ You were rocking a child in your arms, consoling him to stop crying. And when he did, you gave him a chocolate for being a good boy. You were laughing and playing with the children not realizing a pair of black orbs were staring at you.

☆ You both started off as friends. This surprised Sanzu as his boss doesn't talk much anymore. 

☆ Mikey felt comfortable in your arms. You were his home. His everything. 

☆ He felt new to this emotion. Its been so long since he was last happy. Since he felt really happy he wanted to smile. But the happiness was accompanied by fear. The immense fear of loosing you.

☆ Once he was clear with his emotions, he asked you to marry him immediately.

☆ That was the start of your relationship with Mikey. Love so pure, nothing seemed to break it .

☆ OldAge! Mikey Doesn't understand most jokes. So u gotta explain to him.

☆ OldAge! Mikey is definitely a "Back in my days....." type of person 

☆ OldAge! Mikey Who considers dorayaki greater than other foods. "You call this tasty? Hmph dorayaki is better"

☆ OldAge! Mikey Who Names those children after draken, emma, Shinchiro, mitsuya, chifuyu, etcc... (All his dead friends)

☆ OldAge! Mikey Who Spoils the kids with gifts.

☆ OldAge! Mikey Loves playing with his kids often. Considers them to be his lucky charm and his secret to happiness along with you.

☆ OldAge! Mikey Who still gets shy after you bake him a cake or show him the simplest forms of love

☆ OldAge! Mikey Who buys you flowers to show his never ending love for you.

☆ OldAge! Mikey Hires a whole protection squad when he has to leave you or the kids alone. Without him.

☆ OldAge! Mikey Who almost beat a man to death for trying to rob your house when you both were on a date, calms down only after you run ur fingers through his hair.

☆ OldAge! Mikey Considers meeting you as the best thing tgat happened to him in his whole life.

☆ OldAge! Mikey Who visits his friends graves on their birthday and talks about how he misses them and about his new family hoping they forgive him for whatever reckless actions he made when he was young, so that they may live happily together in the afterlife.

☆ OldAge! Mikey Who used to be the invincible one and still is, gets on his knees for you not caring if people are watching him.

☆ OldAge! Mikey Loves slow dancing with you. In the living room. In the kitchen. In the bedroom In the balcony. In ur backyard. Everywhere.

☆ OldAge! Mikey Looks different now that he's old. Puffy eyes and cheeks, fine lines to show he's ageing, hair turning as white as snow, his strength decreasing but his heart remains filled with love for you.

☆ OldAge! Mikey Who would travel the world with you. Showing you new places, taking many pics to remind him of the wonderful memories you both shared.

☆ OldAge! Mikey Who gets suddenly clingy with you refuses to share you with anyone. Almost as if he's the same old mikey Who refused to eat a burger just because it didn't have a flag on it when he was hungry.

☆ OldAge! Mikey Treats you as of you're a fragile glass structure ready to break anytime. Carrying you on his back or his arms <3

[ visualization ]

[s-4pphics]

ok I’m so embarrassed to admit this but I’ve never owned a PlayStation before so I’m legitimately clueless on the whole gaming thing 😩 so like since I heard that TLOU part 2 is getting a remaster in January, I’m thinking about getting a PS5 but idk where to start. Like what does the bundle and the other stuff mean 😭 I just wanna play TLOU part 1 & 2 and Grand Theft Auto

feeling like a grandma with technology

ITS OKAY ngl i use my brothers consoles for everything LOL but the contents of the bundle vary depending on where u buy it!!! some of them include just the console itself and controller and some of them include more like a headset n shit😭😭

the PS website sometimes includes a game with each bundle but i don’t think they’ll have TLOU cuz they cheap fr🙄 LOOK ON TARGET N SEE WHAT THEY GOT😋

[bidisasterevankinard]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤️

Hi love thank you for this !!!!!!!!!!!

I love you (all the ways possible)

T / 8811 words

“I love you,” Buck says softly with his eyes closed and a smile, enjoying the aftertaste of the first sip, but then he abruptly opens his eyes and turns to the shocked Eddie.

“I-I mean like a friend. Platonically. You - you my best friend, Eddie. And I never had one. I’m sorry if it’s strange. It’s probably strange. I'm just, you know, a really emotional person and …”

“I love you too, man,” Eddie cuts his explanations that were already turning into panic.

or, 5 times Buck and Eddie say "I love you" platonically, 1 time Buck says it and Eddie doesn't know it's not platonic, 1 time Eddie says it and Buck doesn't know it's not platonic, and 1 time they both now it's not platonic

Don’t spoil him because you feeling guilty (just love him how you really mean it) G 4,321 words

“First of all, if I remember right, two months ago you were too old to have plushies,” Eddie points, looking at his son. He even portrays how Chris said it to him, which causes Chris to roll his eyes in response. “Don't roll your eyes, Christopher Diaz. Secondly, we agreed that since I'm buying you the fancy console you dreamed of, you don't ask for anything else for a whole month, do you?”

Christopher sighs but nods in agreement. Eddie can't help but smile at how cute his son looks and raises his head to share this moment with Buck, who is not standing next to them. Eddie almost starts to panic when he sees Buck at the checkout.

He returns a minute later and hands the penguin to Chris, who lights up brighter than the sun.

or, 5 times Eddie tries to understand why Buck spoils Chris more than ever after his coma, and 1 time Buck tells him why

I was always in front of you  G 2131 words

“Do you want to help me find a new couch?”

“I thought you needed to choose the couch yourself?” Eddie wants to slap himself. Buck opened his heart in the hope that Eddie will understand him, and Eddie asks this question. But Buck smiles brightly.

“Yes, that’s the point. I`m going to do it. I just would like some opinions from my partner. It’s not like you would choose for me. And I want an opinion from Chris,” Buck says and looks at Eddie like he should understand what he means and wait.

But Eddie can’t fully tell or better say scared to hope what Buck means so another man helps him.

“We can buy a couch together. Three of us,” Buck emphasizes the last part. And Eddie thinks he can’t breathe. He smiles bright and hopefully but he needs to be sure they both understand what it means correctly.

“Like a family?” Eddie asks and hears how behind Chris comes to the kitchen.

or, Eddie comes to see Buck after hospital, helps him to deliver Kameron's baby. then they have movie night with Chris, choose couch together and finally goes on a date Or, how they could end 6x18

We are family (let`s buy pajamas to prove it) G 1787 words

A week. Eddie tried to find the perfect way to ask Buck to marry him for a week. It should be something cute and romantic, but also something only for them.Big romantic gestures are amazing,but Eddie feels like he needs it to be something quiet and domestic.

So while Buck has a shift without him, he searches for the best idea on the Internet. But the last two hours gave him nothing except anxiety.

“Dad!” Chris` scream near his ear scares him, and he almost drops his laptop. Chris smiles at it. “I called you five times. What are you doing?” the boy sits near him and tries to look at his screen.

or Eddie and Chris propose to Buck with cute pajamas

I wanna be yours E 6061

They both just melt into a kiss, enjoying the taste of each other's lips. It's a deep kiss that sends chills down Buck's spine. Eddie literally devours him with his mouth, and Buck doesn't even try to resist.

But they both need to breathe, so they separate to get some air, but after a few seconds Eddie joins their lips again, pushing Buck to the counter in the center of the kitchen, so he hits his back pretty hard, but blue-eyed can't care more about a small bruise while Eddie presses him into the counter and kiss Buck like he's a water source, and Eddie is madly thirsty.

or, after poker smut fic

[folkloreguk]

French Class [6]

A/N: You guys might want to whack out your love song playlist for this one…I cried writing this BYE I'm posting this from my grave!!

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), fwb, f2l?, college!au, fuckboy!bias, nerd!reader, ANGST, smut

words: ~ 3.8 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez, @runaway-fics, @mainexiii, @awfullytiredbuthealing, @erikyoong, @etherealuv, @staysuki, @justcuz-ican, @yeostars, @hyuckthangs, @teenloves, @mexious18-blog, @sunghoonied, @mailobjaeyoon

couldn’t tag: @chorizoek

You: can I come over? I kind of need u

H/N: you need me huh…you’re lucky I’m home alone

It always starts differently. Some other question, or a subtle message of telling him you’re bored, or a flat-out confession of being horny. The ending is always the same. You, naked in his bed. You just had to get there, and things were easy when you were already on his dorm’s doorstep.

The moment he had opened the door, you had fistfuls of his hair between your fingers and attacked his mouth in a feverish kiss. He made a noise between a laugh and surprise but reacted quickly. His lips parted right away, letting you in, and you tasted mint from the chewing gum he liked so much.

“Let me- at least- close the door,” he mumbled. “Jeez, what’s gotten into you today?”

You stepped aside and mirrored his grin. He was acting surprised, but the way he instantly locked your lips after he had shut the door told you he was enjoying this as much as you were. You ran your hands down his torso and along the side of his thighs. His happy hum only poured oil into the fire, and you saw no reason as to why you should have kept your clothes on any longer. In minutes, in the middle of heated kisses and clumsy chuckles, your clothes were discarded, and you were left in your underwear. You stumbled into his bedroom in a tangle of arms and legs and heads barely pulling apart.

“Will you tell me about the date you had today or are we skipping over that part?” he asked, as he pushed you down by the shoulders onto his bed. You groaned a little, not even knowing where to start.

“Didn’t go well, huh?” he asked. Only a few nights ago you had consoled him after his failed date, now the roles were reversed.

“That’s one way to put it,” you said. He was climbing on top of you now, and the weight of him between your thighs still did the same things to you it had done the first time. There was one of his random playlists playing quietly from the speakers, but you were both too occupied to even consider switching the music off. You weren’t in the mood for a chat, not when he was biting and sucking bruises into your chest, pushing aside your bra just enough. But you knew he wasn’t going to let it go this easily.

“Tell me about it or I won’t take one more piece of clothing off your body,” he threatened. You shot him an are-you-serious-look while he only blinked at you innocently, like he was awaiting your response.

“Fine,” you groaned. “But hurry, now.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, before unclasping your bra and throwing it to the other side of the room. “Go ahead, I expect a story.”

You had rolled your eyes at him, but when he sucked on your nipple all of a sudden, and his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud ever so perfectly, your eyes moved to the back of your head involuntarily. And, before he could complain, you started to retell today’s events.

“Alright. First of all, he acted all gentleman-y. Pulling back my chair at the restaurant, letting me have a look at the menu first, letting me order first, asking me if I was okay with our seats because they were in the sunshine, or whether he should have requested we get a different in the shade table, blah, blah, blah.”

With the lewd noises he was making, kissing your chest and fumbling with your breasts, you almost wondered whether he was paying attention to you at all.

“I’m waiting for the plot twist,” he chuckled. “If he had been this great, you wouldn’t be in my bed right now, would you?” He was now on his way to your lower regions. Your breaths came out shaky when he gripped your hips with familiar fingertips and placed a few kisses there, right above the material of your underwear. Nonetheless, you had to continue your story.

“Oh, it’s coming,” you said. “Because I suspect, the only reason he was acting that way was to compensate. For the fact that he was an hour late.”

He stifled a laugh, and you slapped his head playfully. “It’s not funny! I stood outside that restaurant on a busy street like an idiot for an hour. During exam season!”

“I wonder, if studying is so special to you- ,” he said. He tugged on your underwear, and you barely cared about his words when you were already imagining his mouth on your pussy. “Why aren’t you at home right now, doing just that?”

“Too frustrated,” you groaned, spreading your legs, practically inviting him in. “You don’t get it. That was only the beginning of the date. It gets worse.”

“Oh, damn,” he laughed, and you were going to slap him again. Harder, this time. But his tongue kitten-licked over your clit and you didn’t dare interrupt him further.

“First of all, he turned out to be boring. An economics major. And look, I’m not generalizing, I’ve met some cool economics majors. But when I said I never really understood the whole thing with inflation and deflation, I wasn’t asking for him to explain it to me. I know what it means, I just meant to say money is the root of all evil,” you said, little moans slipping inbetween your sentences. He laughed whilst sipping on your clit. You couldn’t be mad at his laughing anymore. In fact, at the sound of his chuckles, your own lips curled into a smile, too. God, he was so good with his tongue.

“But turns out he loved money. Like it was the sole reason he was doing anything. When he showed me his gold watch I almost yawned,” you continued.

“Dating a rich guy can have its upsides too, though,” he said, but you knew he was joking. He was running the tips of his fingers over your core, and you whimpered at how badly you wanted him to put them inside of you. You loved watching him, loved feeling his hair tickle the side of your thighs and having his free hand laying on top of your hipbone. The familiarity of it all, his little habits, made your heart heavy, so full of emotion, all of a sudden. But you had to snap out of it.

“Not this guy. He kept saying these lowkey sexist things I won’t repeat now. It’ll only make me mad again. He was one of those who thought money would buy him a girlfriend. And I was really trying to see the good in him…only there was none,” you said.

“Alright, I’m starting to understand why you needed some cheering up,” he said. “Good thing you’re at the right place. I know just the thing.”

At this, he slid his digits into you. You hummed and dropped your head into the plush pillow. Slowly, you exhaled, happy you finally got to relax after being so upset. But of course, he had to interrupt. Again.

“Did I say you could stop? Was that the end of the story?” he said. How did he expect you to form a coherent sentence? He fingered you gently, but the slowness of it all only drove you crazier. You felt every tiny sensation, every new bit of you he touched.

“No,” you sulked. “Fuck, it feels so good.”

“Go on, then,” he encouraged you, grinning because he was proud of your reaction he had caused.

“Fuck- okay. He was super shitty to the waiter. I’m talking about criticizing everything. This man had the audacity to complain about the food. I’m not a food critic, but I swear the food was amazing, there was nothing to fault at all,” you said, and then whined when he switched from licking your clit to sucking it between his teeth. You knew he was doing this on purpose. To make speaking harder for you.

“Oh my god, H/N. Wait, let me finish this. Not only was he horrible to the waiter in person, but he also made fun of the waiter’s appearance behind his back. And all along he expected me to find him funny. I used to think he had a sense of humor but not after today. Blech.”

“At least you got a free dinner?” he said, and without awaiting your answer, went back to work. Your head was spinning in pleasure, and you could only laugh sarcastically at his suggestion.

“Yeah. And after that train wreck of a date, he really thought he’d get to stick his tongue down my throat,” you said.

“Did he at least ask permission?” asked the boy between your legs.

“Mhm…but I told him I don’t do that on the first date,” you said. “Safe to say there won’t be another date, though.”

He looked up now, laughing more than before. You grinned, mainly because the sight of him was so cute. He folded his hands on your belly and put his face down onto your skin to giggle. In no way could you be upset or urge him to keep giving you head. In fact, you had forgotten about all of that for a while, as he seemed to enjoy your misfortune a little too wildly. You should have been hungry, eager to have the half-naked boy inside of you. Yet, you laughed at the way his breaths tickled your stomach and when he finally made eye contact, it was a wholly different sort of hunger which overcame you. Instead of the heat he usually made you feel, it was a comfortable warmth that was in your chest. It reminded you of a bonfire or of drinking your favorite hot drink on a cool autumn day.

“I want to watch you come,” he said, casually. “Were you close?”

You were so lost in his trustworthy, dreamy eyes, you almost forgot to reply. Quickly, you nodded and hummed.

“I would have already come, had you not pestered me to tell you all the details of my date,” you said. The way his cheeks beamed when he smiled made you feel as if your insides were turning into mush.

“I’m sorry. I’m your friend, aren’t I allowed to ask how your day went?” he asked.

“Of course you are,” you said. The word ‘friend’ echoed off every wall in your head until you wished you could have deleted it from the dictionary.

“I’ll make sure it feels extra good now,” he said, kissing your stomach. You shivered as you watched his gentle lips move lower, to your hips and the insides of your thighs. The touch felt like butterfly wings on your skin, and the tardiness of it made you impatient. When his tongue came in contact with your clit again, you sucked in a breath of surprise.

He tried to start slowly, but then you gripped his hair tightly, and carefully pushed him further. It was something you did often, a way to tell him you wanted more without having to use words. After all this time, he understood perfectly. Your clit was between his lips and his tongue flicked over the sensitive bundle of nerves with just the right amount of pleasure. It felt incredible, creating a funny sensation in the pit of your stomach. His fingers grazed over your slit until you were whimpering and shifting your hips, trying to make him hurry.

One of his digits slid into you easily, curling against your sweet spot, and it hit you only now how much you had missed him between your legs since he had stopped a few minutes ago. It made you feel as though you were suddenly overwhelmed with all of him, but you were willing to let the heat crash over you if it meant you could be close to him.

“Am I making it up to you now?” he asked as he pulled away merely for a breath. “I’ll turn your day into a good one after all.”

In a different tone his words would have sounded like the exact thing one would have expected to hear from a fuckboy in the bedroom. He could have boasted and bragged endlessly about how great he was with his tongue and fingers – he would have been right – but he didn’t mean it like that. You could tell from the uprightness and the authenticity in his voice that he really was doing his best because he wanted to make you feel better and turn your day around. Because you were special to him. Or so you desperately hoped.

Your legs wrapped around his shoulders as if you were trapping him between your thighs. But he was right there, and he would gladly stay for so much longer, and to say it puzzled you was an understatement. The boy who belonged to everybody, who was known by all of the campus, was treating you like you were royalty, and not the other way around. You moaned, his name inevitably falling from your lips. He added another finger and the slightest stretch made you lose your mind for a split second.

“That guy could have never made you feel this good, could he?” he suddenly asked. Your initial response was a helpless whine. You had been so close, and his talking had interrupted the otherworldly bliss for a moment.

“No, never,” you then whimpered shortly. ‘No’ was such a tiny word. It could barely encapsule what you truly meant to say. Which was that it would have never even gotten that far. That other guys couldn’t even have you at all. They didn’t get their turn to try and beat him. Not as of lately, at least. That you didn’t so much as dare to think about sleeping with other guys. That even before you had gone on the date, you had known it wouldn’t lead to anything. No guy could let you develop an interest on him in the same way the boy between your legs had done it. No other would be able to kidnap your brain like that. H/N was always there. Even when it was only you and your sex toys, you would automatically pretend it was him getting you off. You were so far gone that it was embarrassing how long it had taken you to admit it to yourself. But it was a colossal thing to confess to him, and you would never do that. Rejection would hurt a billion times more than whatever it was you two had now.

Your heart was racing as you closed your eyes. You had been so lost in thought, it was wondrous you hadn’t fallen yet. But you were right on the edge, making your breaths come out like puffs and a string of moans and swears sound from your lips. He too had stopped talking, concentrating on the task at hand, and judging by the way your back arched he was doing one hell of a good job.

“Oh my god- “ you whimpered. “I’m so close, H/N.”

This time he didn’t reply, which was for the best. Only a few seconds passed until you started to quiver and whine beneath him. You were going to outer space behind your eyelids as your high rushed through you. Your fingers curled and tightened in his locks while your legs clenched around his head. He was quick to pull your thighs apart again, still not being finished. For long seconds you swam in pleasure, with nothing on your mind but bursting stars. He was heaven, knowing precisely how far he could take it until you were too sensitive to take any more.

When you were at that point, he finally pulled away and looked up at your crumpled form. There was a lazy smile playing in the corner of your lips and your vision was hazy after having had your eyes closed for a while. He climbed up your body until his chest was against yours so he could really look at you.

“I get all of this without ever having been on a single date with you? I’m so lucky,” he said. You only smiled at him, at a loss for words. What were you to say? The two of you were clearly past the awkward dating stage already.

“I’m lucky you let me come over all the time,” you said. “I would have expected the campus fuckboy to be busier. To not have an empty spot in his bed every night.”

“Ah, shut up,” he said. “I’d rather have you here than a girl I don’t know at all. Look, I’m really tired so I don’t know how this will go…but can I?” He was on his knees, a tent visible in his boxers. With a questioning look, he was tugging them down his legs now.

“Of course,” you said. As you watched him roll on a condom, your ears perked up. Did that song have to come on shuffle just now? The coziest, most romantic love song you adored so much? You knew if you looked him in the eyes you’d be done for. But there wasn’t anywhere else to look when he settled between your legs and held up his weight with his forearms. His eyes were deep enough for you to get lost within a second. Distracting yourself was impossible. The one last thing you could do was to reach between the two of you and guide his length into you.

The song’s chorus came on, you looked at him once again, and suddenly you were all his. You didn’t need to tell him so. He thrust gently, almost carefully, like he had never done it with you. Your heart hammered against your ribcage so vivaciously, you wondered whether it had turned autonomous and was now trying to jump out of your body, onto his skin and through it, so it could nestle next to his own heart.

Neither of you spoke. Yet, there had never been so much chemistry, such a heavy amount of uncommunicated emotions between the two of you. You were ready to hang on his every word, should he decide to speak up. In your head rampaged a billion sentiments you needed him to know, but there was no option to express them adequately. Perhaps there were simply no words in the English language to declare your feelings for him.

Small whimpers and moans left your lips only for him to hear. Sometimes he moved a little quicker, gifting you with the most perfect sounds he could make. And to know you were the cause for it sent you into overdrive. His mouth was right above yours. If you lifted your head slightly, you could have kissed his sweet, sweet lips. But you were so afraid. What would he think? You had never kissed him during sex. Not softly, like you wanted it so terribly.

Even worse, you craved so much more than that. You wanted to pull him in, envelope his mouth in your own, crawl over the edge of his lips and reside in his chest for safety. Because that’s what he was. Comfort. Reassurance. Home. How foolish you had been, pretending this little fling would lead to nothing more. You really had told yourself this would work. No feelings. Just fun. You couldn’t deny having fun with him. He was the best company you had ever known, and he had become your most precious friend quickly. It was as if you had only been waiting for the silly, flirty boy to sit across from you in the library and make weak advances towards you.

The love song tuned out slowly, replaced by something more sensual and sinful. In accordance with the new background noise, he gripped your hips a little meaner and went faster. You barely noticed how his breathing had sped up as he was getting closer to his orgasm. A trance had overcome you, transfixing you on his godlike features and how much it hurt to know you couldn’t call him yours. In your head you were made for each other. They always said to date your best friend, didn’t they? You could try to turn back time, go back to your first meeting place, at the party. See if things would turn out different. But you knew they wouldn’t. As much as your fear tried to suppress it – you would take the same path again, stumbling head-first into his arms and letting him into your life like a crashing wave of laughter and heart-crushing conversations.

Now you reflected in despair, how he had taken your heart in a storm, without having to try too hard. And worst of all, you were okay with it. Your heart was secure with him, you thought. The feelings yearned to be spoken out loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“You feel so good,” he said. “Always, so fucking good.”

He snapped his hips against yours, burying his cock deep inside of you and all you could muster was a hum of agreement. This is what you got for keeping him at arms-length from the beginning. Wasn’t it you who had challenged him to be friends and only that? Perhaps you would be okay, so long as no one else called him theirs either. You could go on like this, letting him use you for sexual relief and making him laugh when he needed it. Gladly, you would take the pain of not being allowed to love him with your whole being if it meant you could see him whenever you wanted. Exposing those silly emotions would wreck your friendship and you wouldn’t let it happen.

He grunted and only then, when he lowered his head into the crook of your neck and moaned your name, you realized he was reaching his high. Softly, you cradled his head in your hands, as if it was the last time you could hold him like this. When he put his forehead against yours, he had his eyes closed and his chest was moving steadier than before.

“You’re the best,” he whispered. “Stay the night?”

Should you have gone home, and missed him all night? Would you have regretted saying no while you curled up in bed with no Cheshire-cat-grin-boy to hold? Or were you to remain in his bed, and pray you would survive the torture of not speaking your mind? His skin radiated the most wonderful warmth and you wanted to trace his lips with your eyes until you fell asleep. That’s how quickly it was decided.

“Okay,” you answered.

[ptergwen]

favorite crime

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood / death, lots n lots of angst

summary: you convince peter to go on the run after he’s framed for murdering mysterio, but he doesn’t want to drag you into his mess

a/n: this was completely based off the song by olivia lfmbsjfhs it’s so beautiful and i’ve wanted to write something for it for a while now so yee i hope y’all like ! pls lmk what you think <3

-

“we have to get you out of here, peter! come on!” you shout back to your boyfriend and tug his hand that’s laced with yours.

peter doesn’t budge. even when your grip on him tightens, when you pull him forward with all your might, he remains stoic.

there’s something he needs to do, and he’s been contemplating it since the day he met you.

it’s time to let you go.

“please, peter. i’m begging. i know you’re tired of running, but if we don’t leave now… they’ll find you,” you desperately choke out. peter squeezes his eyes shut, dreading what’s to come. “i can’t do this to you anymore, y/n. i… i’m sorry.”

emergency sirens and flashing lights approach the old apartment building serving as yours and peter’s latest hideout. the whole world is on the lookout for him, so you two stowed yourselves away in brooklyn for a bit.

you were hopeful the rumors would pass eventually — about how peter shot the beloved mysterio and left him to die in cold blood. they’re merely talk, of course. you’d personally seen the events of that day unfold on the tower bridge. hell, your class was right at the center of them.

quentin beck was pure evil, so rotten he defamed both peter and spider-man with a charge as cruel as murder. he’s wreaking havoc on him from beyond the grave, over a complete misunderstanding that peter had nothing to do with.

beck’s true source of anger is stark industries. yet, once again, peter ended up the collateral damage.

he was deemed a wanted murderer. posters revealing his name and face were plastered up around the city, a reward even being offered to whoever who turns him in.

you’d proposed the idea of skipping town until things settled. the way you saw it, it was peter’s only option other than prison for twenty-five to life. peter was panicking and couldn’t think straight, so he went along with your getaway plan.

a few weeks later, he’s regretting it.

you’ve been the one person he could trust through this madness. you’re right there to console him, to protect him just like he does you. through sickness and health, life and clearly death, you stick by peter’s side. you left everything behind without a second thought, for him.

peter loves you more than you’ll ever fully be able to comprehend, which is why he can’t ask you to do that. this is his battle to fight, not yours or anyone else’s. his.

you suddenly freeze in your tracks, turning around to look at peter. “what are you talking about? you’re fine, pete.”

his eyes roam everywhere except to yours as they water. blinking back tears, he fixes his gaze on your intertwined hands. you notice a stray tear fall down his cheek and use one of your thumbs to wipe it away, then press a reassuring kiss to his lips. peter lets himself reciprocate momentarily before jerking back.

“please just… stop being so nice to me. you’re making this way harder than i wanted to to be,” he rasps and squeezes your hand tighter. you’re still lost, absolutely clueless about what he’s referring to.

“look, pete. i wanna hear you out, baby. but… i think it should wait until we get to jersey.” you keep your voice as calm as possible, though you’re terrified for both of you. since the feds know your location, they’ll have the place surrounded any minute.

hopping cities isn’t cutting it anymore, so you’ll have to change states this time. new jersey is next on your list.

using his strength to his advantage to hold you in place, peter seizes both your shoulders. his bloodshot eyes lock with yours. a stern expression coats his features, one you’ve seen from him yet never been on the receiving end of.

“we’re not going to jersey, y/n/n,” he declares, the sirens starting to grow louder. you feel a pit forming in your stomach. “we have to!” you immediately protest. “it’s not gonna be easy finding our way, but it’s the last-“

peter cuts you off, voice softer now. “no, no. that’s not what i meant.” he waits a beat and inhales a deep breath, aiming to settle his nerves. it doesn’t.

“i’m going to jersey. you’re staying.”

tears cloud your vision the second those words leave his mouth. you shake your head furiously back and forth, willing him to take them back.

part of you was always afraid peter would get second thoughts. not only about running away with you, about ever being with you. you’re both so young. your entire lives are ahead of you, and peter won’t allow you to risk your own because this isn’t worth a single bit of it.

he’d warned you how dangerous it was to be associated with spider-man. it’s why he held off on telling you about his alias for the longest he could. you naturally began asking questions whenever peter bailed on dates and showed up to school covered in bruises. he hated lying to you, using his stark internship as an excuse, so he finally came out and said it.

peter sometimes wonders if you’d be better off not knowing at all. it’s too late now, though.

“wait, what? why- why can’t i go with you?” you plead, peter’s fingers coming up to cup your cheek. his fingertips lightly caress your skin. “i’m a criminal, y/n. you’d be my accessory.”

it takes everything in him not to break down and sob along with you.

you lean into his palm, already missing his touch. “i don’t care... i don’t give a fuck. i just wanna be with you, peter.” peter literally has to bite his tongue to fight the urge to cry. hands grabbing either side of his head, your fingers twist in his hair roughly. “i’ll do anything, pete. i really will, i swear. name it.”

peter threads his own fingers through yours again, bringing your hands to his chest.

“i’m so sorry, angel. i never should’ve gotten you involved,” he murmurs out and pecks your forehead. “you have nothing to prove to me, okay? you’ve done more than enough. i’m gonna return the favor.”

you let out a strangled whine, your knees buckling as you come to terms with the gravity of your situation.

this is it. this is the end of yours and peter’s story.

“hey, none of that. it’s okay,” peter coos, neither of you convinced. the tastes of salt and metal flood both your senses. he helps you back up and hugs your waist, peppering your cheeks in more kisses. you’re bawling now, arms wound around his neck, clutching at his tattered jacket.

free tears escape peter’s eyes at last. “i love you. i love you so goddamn much, y/n. never forget it,” he nearly whispers. you sniffle and push your forehead against his. “i’m not saying it back ‘cuz that feels like a goodbye, and i- i can’t say goodbye to you yet.”

“it’s not a goodbye,” peter reassures you, rubbing circles on your lower back. “it’s, uh, it’s a see you later. i’m gonna figure something out and be back to you before you know it. can’t get rid of me that easy.”

that earns a faint giggle from you, peter managing a grin. you two attempt to ignore everything happening beyond these walls, only focusing on the other.

“then, um…” you clear your throat. “i love you.” his smile dwindling slightly, peter nods and meets your gaze. “i love you too, baby. you should probably get going soon.”

affirming his advice, a booming voice that sounds from a microphone commands peter to come out with his hands up.

your worry spikes, instinctively drawing peter in closer. he forces himself to put on a brave face for you.

“i’m scared, pete. where… where am i supposed to go?” you rush to ask him. “home, y/n/n. go home,” peter decides, pressing a final kiss to the top of your head. “just don’t get caught, and you’ll be fine.” carding your fingers in his undone curls, you sigh. “easier said than done, but i’ll try not to.”

you’d never pictured that the sweet boy with a heart too big and brain even bigger, who sings you to sleep even though his voice sucks and spends his last dollar buying you flowers, would be accused of first degree murder. it isn’t true or fucking fair.

what’s worse, he has to bare this storm alone now.

you lift your heavy backpack off the cold ground, slinging it onto your shoulders. peter stares out the window and down at the assembly of swarm troops crowded together.

“are you gonna be okay?” you catch his attention. he snaps back into reality, pulling your hood up so it covers your head. you’re wearing a sweatshirt of his, after having gone through all your own clothes. “i hope so. are you?” peter repeats your question. “i hope so,” you echo.

tying your hoodie strings tight, peter offers a smile. “say hi to may for me. ned and mj, too.” it’s going to be tough to face his family and friends after this. “i will. i’ll let them know you’re alright.” you kiss his cheek, placing a hand on his chest. peter lets your touch distract him from the mess he’s about to be hit with.

“thank you, y/n. i’ll see you soon, baby. you have my word,” he promises, stepping back so you two can go your separate ways.

you watch him with fresh tears threatening to spill.

“i’m gonna hold you to it. be safe, spidey.”

[rafescoke]

Crime ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Part #1

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Reader would do anything for the boy she loves from a summer ago.

Warnings: Story takes place at the start of season 2 (and some flashbacks from season 1), swearing, angst, death penalty, gaslighting, reader just needing help

A/N: i don’t think this is my best work at all :( but i’ll post the part 2 straight away!! didn’t know tumblr has a word limit now wtf

p.s; tell me what do you think of this fic!!

(Y/N) had begged for somewhere else to spend the Summer. She couldn’t go back to that place, not when there were too many memories that awaited her. No one seemed to listen to her, and her father continued to check something online.

“Rafe Cameron.”

“(Y/N),” she had smiled, and she thought about how gorgeous a boy could be. This man before her; with his hair messily parted and that goddamn blue eyes had her holding her breath, and she wasn’t in her usual demeanour.

“You come down here often?” Rafe asked, raising his eyebrows. (Y/N) watched as he chugged on his beer, and gave her another sly smile again.

“Um, not really. This is my first summer here.”

“That’s nice,” he shrugged, “Welcome to Obx.”

“Thanks,” she nodded, liking how Obx already is. She made a mental note to tell her friends back home about this island, and most importantly; Rafe Cameron.

“Do you wanna take a walk?”

(Y/N) never really accepted any boy’s invitation for a walk, because all the boys in the city never had good intentions with her. She never dated anyone, never bothered to do so.

“Sure,” she smiled, and walked alongside the dirty-blonde boy to the far end of the beach. He sucked in a breath, glancing at her from the corners of his eyes, and laughed.

“You look nervous.”

“You could be a mass murderer.”

“Isn’t that just the perfect person to spend the summer with?”

(Y/N) looked up at him, the moonlight from the sky illuminating his features. God, he really is beautiful. “I guess.”

“So would that be a problem if I killed someone before?”

(Y/N) laughed easily at the joke, bumping her arms against his. She felt a jolt from the touch, and swallowed her saliva. “No.”

Rafe chuckled, “Yeah. That’s more like it.”

(Y/N) had thought of that moment as nothing but a joke. A playful joke, meaning to flirt with her. The next few weeks were spent with only them two, sometimes in his house or (Y/N)’s stay. They were inseparable; always attached by the hips morning and night, and (Y/N) knew about all of his problems.

“Try it.”

“What? Coke?” She asked, bewildered. She looked down to the table, her hands fidgeting, and she quickly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked up to Rafe again, “I don’t know how.”

“Come on, I’ll show you,” he smiled, pulling her by her wrist and seated her beside him. She felt the jolt again, but she had gotten better at ignoring it.

Rafe lowered his hand, a finger placed on his left nostril, and snorted the line of white powder. He grunted, throwing his head back, and after a few seconds, he gave her a smirk.

“Your turn.”

(Y/N) smiled back, reaching for the rolled up bill before lowering his head to the last line. She took a deep breath, still so shaky, and snorted the powder before she could change her mind.

Her heartbeat quickened, and her mind was all over the place. She could feel her forehead getting clammy, and before she could do anything, Rafe cupped her face in his large hands.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” he expressed, looking straight into her eyes. (Y/N) didn’t realise she was starting to cry, and stared back into his eyes.

“You’re so pretty,” he said suddenly, rubbing comforting circles on her temples. (Y/N) relaxed under his touch, “Such a pretty girl.”

“I thought you’re friends with that Cameron boy,” her father suddenly said, shaking her out of her memories. (Y/N) closed her eyes, trying to push away the thoughts, and gave her father a grimace.

“So? I don’t want to see him.”

“What happened between you two? You used to ask me to move to Obx,” her father laughed, still clicking on the mouse to the laptop.

“People change, dad,” she muttered, and made her way back to her bedroom to be alone with her thoughts.

“Rafe! You don’t have to do this,” (Y/N) gasped, her hands around her mouth. She looked around the gazebo by the lake, her eyes brightening against the beautiful fairy lights and veins decorating the railings.

“It’s your last week here,” he shrugged, helping her to her seat before sitting for himself. He pointed to the food displayed before then, “Steak. Your favourite.”

“You are amazing,” she expressed, her eyes suddenly glassy. The lake never looked so calming, and (Y/N) wished she could capture this exact moment in her head.

“Just thought you should see the other side of Rafe Cameron,” he shrugged, his lips forming into a smile. “I’m glad you came down here to Obx.”

“Me too,” she breathed, and went for the food. “I’m so glad to have met you.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled, cutting his steak into small pieces before biting into one. “Didn’t you called me a mass murderer the first time we met?”

“It was a joke,” she rolled her eyes, “But I’ll still like you even if you are.”

She didn’t know the truth behind her words.

“You will?” He looked up to her, grinning. “And just like?”

“Just like. What are you playing at, Rafe?” She faked groan, putting her cutleries down and clasping her hand together. “What? You’re going to propose to me or something?”

Everything happened so fast; Rafe chuckled, awkwardly running his fingers through his fair, messing with his slicked back hair. She liked this messy hair better, but she liked anything about Rafe Cameron, messy hair or not.

“No.”

Rafe held out the tiny velvet box in his hands, and (Y/N) never saw a prettier smile than his.

“No,” she repeated, her breathing heavy. She was too shocked by this, only meaning the proposal part of her speech as a joke, and looked into his sincere eyes again.

“I’m not proposing to you,” he laughed, getting down to one knee and opening the box to a beautiful diamond ring. (Y/N) sucked in a breath, mesmerised. “I will though, in the future.”

“Oh my god, Rafe, I can’t accept this,” she gasped, watching as the diamond glinted under the bright light. “You’re too much.”

“It’s a promise ring,” he smiled, “And a proposal to ask you to become my girlfriend.”

He sucked in a breath, and (Y/N) swore her heart stopped. She never thought of herself worthy as these kind of moments, but here she was; all teary eyed, her hand against her heart to calm her crazy heartbeat.

“Will you be my girlfriend, (Y/N)?”

She laughed, wiping the tears that had rolled down to her cheeks, and cupped his face into her hands. “You’re so fucking dumb. Of course I will, asshole, without this whole dinner thing. You could ask me while we’re in the swimming pool and I’ll say yes.”

Rafe laughed, melting into her hands, before taking out the ring he had saved up for (by not buying anymore coke) and asking for her permission to slide it over her ring finger.

(Y/N) nodded, holding her breath, and the diamond ring slid to her finger, and she gasped at how pretty it looked. She wondered about how much it had cost Rafe to buy the ring for her, but pushed the thought away when Rafe tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“We haven’t even kissed yet.”

(Y/N) laughed, “I told you you’re too fast, Rafe.”

Rafe smiled, inching closer to her, and (Y/N) just instantly stopped thinking. He was so beautiful, so angelic, and she wished she could stay at Obx forever.

“I love you, (Y/L/N).”

“Rafe,” she expressed, placing her forehead against his, “I love you too, okay?”

(Y/N) groaned, deepening her face against the soft pillow. She felt like screaming, but she didn’t have the energy to do so.

She would do anything for Rafe, and the next few days after that proposal went too fast that she felt like God was being unfair to her. He made her feel so good, and no one had made her feel the way he made her feel.

She felt like she was in heaven.

Until that one, certain Friday; the day before she went back to New York.

“Rafe, please,” she cried, pulling him by shirt as he pointed the gun at the sheriff, his eyes flaring up in anger. “Rafe, it doesn’t have to be this way.”

She looked at Ward, who looked afraid as well, and sucked in a breath. “You told me-”

“Shut up!” He grunted, his own fingers trembling on the trigger. “Fuck! Shut up.”

She didn’t know what to do. Sarah was looking at her for help, but she had tried her best to console him. She tried to reach for him again, to which he quickly pushed her away.

“Do that again, and I’ll kill you next.”

“Rafe-”

“Shut up!” He yelled again, and before she could do anything the pulled on the trigger, and the sheriff fell to the ground with widened eyes.

“Hey.”

(Y/N) jolted from her position at the knock, and groaned when her mother came in. She scooted away, giving her some space on the bed, and laid with her face planted against the pillow again.

“You never told us about what happened with you and Rafe,” she sighed, running her fingers through her hair. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

“Okay, so why don’t you want to go to Obx for the summer?”

“I want new boyfriends.”

Her mother laughed, “Okay. Then find new boyfriends in Obx. The blonde boy who helped us carry our bags the first time we arrived there can be one.”

“JJ?”

“He’s always around the island too, helping people for money,” she shrugged, “That’s a good kid. Doing honest work for honest money.”

“I’m not actually looking for a boyfriend, mom,” she rolled her eyes. “It was a figure of speech.”

“Well,” she stood up, “You better be looking for one. We’re spending the summer in Obx, and that’s final.”

. . .

(Y/N) rubbed her eyes against the glowing sunlight of North Carolina, her body screaming with pain from hours of sitting in the same position. She heard the pilot said something, her mind still woozy from only being caffeinated, and placed her head against the seat again.

“It’s a bright day, like it’s waiting for us,” her mother exclaimed, fixing her sunglasses before walking down the stairs to the road. (Y/N) groaned, still so tired, and she wished for nothing but to stay in her room with Netflix to watch.

“Hey, Mr (Y/L/N),” JJ smiled, and (Y/N) noticed the fake exterior he was trying to portray. “Come down here for another summer again?”

Her mother, who admired JJ’s ‘honest work’ gushed out to beside him, asking about his school and his works. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, not interested in making any new conversation, and she looked back at the area where the incident took place.

JJ caught her looking, and when her parents and the little brother had entered the car, he went to her to help her with her bags.

He crouched down, wrapping his fingers around the handle, and quickly whispered. “You saw, right?”

“Huh?”

“What Rafe did.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered, and went into the car before he could say anything else.

God. Just how she expected her first moments after arriving in Obx.

“Hey! Welcome back!”

“You called the Camerons?” She groaned, looking at her father for some kind of useless explanation. After the brief conversation with JJ, she wanted nothing that could remind her of Rafe and hoped she could stay in her room for the whole 2 months.

“(Y/N), wait-”

She barged into her room for 2 months, noticing the old posters she had put up the year before, and thought about how happy she was at that time. She felt nothing now, and she couldn’t wait until the end of summer.

“Fuck!” She yelled, her head feeling so light, and placed herself before the naked bed. She sighed, trying to calm herself down, and thought of the ways to ignore the certain boy a few miles away.

Maybe he’s in college.

Maybe he’s going to leave her alone.

Maybe he has found someone new.

She felt a tug at the thought of the last sentence, and she couldn’t explain why she would even be devastated over him finding a new girl. That’s good, she guessed, at least she doesn’t have to think about staying away from him again.

Maybe she should spend her time with the pogues; JJ’s friends. They looked fun to hang with.

“Hey, (Y/N).”

“I’m not in the mood,” she grunted, shielding her eyes from the sunlight. “What do you want?”

“Can we go to the beach?”

“The beach?” She huffed, “We just arrived. Shouldn’t you clean your room or something?”

“Okay. But can you bring me to the beach after I’m done?”

“I’ll think about it,” she expressed, but after a few hours of sweeping and mopping the dusty room, placing the new bedsheet over the mattress and taking down her old posters, all she wanted to do was get out for some fresh air. She had slept most of her time in the plane so she wasn’t feeling like taking a nap at all, and she guessed it would be appropriate to bring her little brother to the beach.

She walked to her room, her hands around her waist. “Hey, you’re- where the fuck did you get that?”

“What?” He asked, raising the frame with his sister’s arms around Rafe, smiling happily at the camera. “This? Isn’t he your boyfriend?”

“Throw that away!” she yelled, “I said throw that away!”

“Okay, okay,” he groaned, throwing the frame into the big plastic bag before dusting the dust off of him. “Can we go to the beach now?”

“You’re an asshole, do you know that?” She huffed, watching as he changed into his swimming shorts, “And we’ve been cleaning for 3 hours. You’re not half done yet.”

“Whatever,” he said, and closed the door. “Just wait for me downstairs.”

The ride to the beach didn’t take long, and (Y/N) actually felt peaceful riding the bicycle and letting the breeze hit her square on the face. She had laughed at a stupid joke by her little brother, and she thought about how she could do this for the next 2 months.

“I wanna learn how to surf,” he said, letting the water soaked his feet and dumped his feet into the sand. “Do you?”

“You’ll forget how to when we’re back in New York,” she mumbled, gazing at the sky, “Also your body’s too weak to fight the waves.”

“No, it’s not,” he argued, “What are you going to do for the summer, (Y/N)? Are you going to be with that-”

“No,” she quickly said, curling her toes at the feeling of the water soaking her feet. “I’m not going to be with anyone.”

“Isn’t that your friend?”

“Ha-ha, nice joke,” she laughed falsely, still closing her eyes against the bright sky. “Who’s the friend? Is it Rafe?”

“Hey.”

(Y/N) sat up straight, her heart beating wildly, and what greeted her sight sent shivers down to her spine, and she quickly clutched onto her little brother’s wrist before pulling him away.

“Ow! What are you doing? (Y/N), let me go!” Lucas groaned, looking back at the boy who wanted nothing but to talk to his sister. “Rafe, help!”

“Shut up, you bitch,” she groaned, still pulling on his wrist. She knew about the possibility of leaving a claw mark on his skin, but she wanted nothing to do with the boy.

“Help me, Rafe! She’s going to kill me!”

“I said shut up!” She yelled, her chest heaving now, and she didn’t care about her hair that was hanging loosely from her hairclaw.

She didn’t know if Rafe was chasing after her, and she didn’t dare to look back.

“Ride your bike home,” she fumbled with the handle, “Now. Please, now!”

“Okay,” Lucas groaned, “What’s wrong with you? It’s just Rafe.”

“Go!” She yelled, already set to cycle back home, with her clothes all wet and sticking against her skin. She couldn’t breathe, and she hated the sight of him. She cycled back home hurriedly, tears streaming down her face, and she wished she had stayed home.

The night after the day on the beach she didn’t bother to come down for dinner, only staying in her room and browsing through Netflix. She didn’t feel like doing anything, and she hated how quick her mood was ruined.

She didn’t think about seeing him that quickly, especially after just arriving on the island that morning. This was exactly the problem; she couldn’t face him, not after what he did, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn him to the authorities. She was pushing him away, but at the same time protecting him.

The next morning, she felt shittier than ever. Being in the small island, where everywhere she goes could remind her back to Rafe, she decided to stay in bed and browse through more movies, only going downstairs for a glass of water before going back to her room. She was glad Lucas and her parents were enjoying most of their time here in Obx, and she would do the same if it weren’t for what happened last year.

She was scared. She was mad at herself too, because she couldn’t bring herself to tell anyone about what she saw. As much as she hated him now, a part of her still loved him.

“(Y/N)! Wait!”

“Get the fuck away from me!” She yelled, her eyes red and her cheeks wet. “You’re a fucking psycho.”

“No, no, baby, please-”

“Don’t call me baby, I swear to fucking god!” She yelled again, getting into the car and watched as Rafe desperately banged against the car window, pleading for her to hear him.

“It’s not what you think-”

(Y/N) cried, her head painful, and slowly slid the diamond ring from her finger before lowering the window by a slit and throwing it outside. Rafe watched the ring roll away but didn’t care to fetch it, only trying to speak to her through the tiny slit.

“I had to do it, please,” he begged, “Please. Baby. I can’t do this-”

“Go to hell,” she hissed, and sped away.

That was the last time she had ever seen Rafe, and she knew he tried to contact her with different phone numbers every day, but she had blocked every single number. The trouble stopped after a while, and (Y/N) realised how much she had been missing him.

Who could she confront about this?

Who could she tell?

She couldn’t. She loved him too much.

A week after settling in their summer home, (Y/N) was tired of all the screaming and nudging by her mother for her to get out of the house, and ‘get a life’. She didn’t feel like having a whole summer of just hanging out at the beach, not when the last time she had went there and bumped onto Rafe, so she decided to keep her distance off Figure 8 and made her way to the other side of the island.

She had only been there twice with Rafe before, to pick up something at Barry’s (he told her not to worry about it), so she never really quite get used to the road around here.

She stopped the jeep by the side of the road, glancing at the signboard and the road behind her. Did she go too far? Or was this just the wrong way?

She rested her back against the car door, already tired, and decided to just wait until she was good enough to drive home.

It was half an hour later when she heard the roaring of a motorcycle, and she quickly got to her feet, her chest suddenly heaving.

“Yo? You’re okay?”

“Huh?” She fixed her hair, “Um- yeah. Just resting.”

JJ nodded, “You should turn off your engine. You don’t want to-”

Just right on cue, the engine stopped completely and (Y/N) groaned, getting into the car to turn the engine again. It made some noise, until silence fell between them.

“That’s what I’m saying,” JJ said, “Where are you heading to?”

“Oh, nowhere in particular,” she sighed, getting out of the jeep and shutting the door angrily. Good. Just like how she wanted her day to be.

“Let me send you back home,” he offered, pointing to the black ride behind the jeep. She shook her head, her mouth forming into a tight smile.

“That’s alright, I can-”

“Walk back home? Come on, you’re far from Figure 8, and you’re 50 minutes away from The Cut on foot.”

She didn’t exactly wish for this, but it would help.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, helping her up to the motorcycle and placing her hands on his shoulders for some balance.

“You’ve never ridden a bike before?” JJ asked, half-amused. “No, no, because you look nervous.”

“I’ve just never ridden a bike with you driving,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Can you send me to the taxi stop or anything?”

“Really? Why can’t I just drive you home?”

She groaned, “Just send me to the taxi port, Maybank.”

He laughed, putting his helmet on, and (Y/N) placed her hands against her ears at the loud sound of the engine.

(Y/N) hate to admit it; but the ride to The Cut was the most thrilling thing that she had ever felt in months. She felt a smile slowly forming onto her face, and JJ swore he could see it too from the side mirror, and when they finally stopped at the taxi port, she was so happy she felt like buying a bike for herself.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said. “Minus one point for no helmet.”

“I didn’t know I would see you laying by the side of the road,” he rolled his eyes, a hint of teasing in his tone. “But where’s the fun when you’re all safe?”

She hummed in response, “I’ll see you around then.”

“So you’re just going to get an expensive ride back to Figure 8? Why wouldn’t you let me send you off?”

She knew exactly why, but she didn’t want to admit it. She was scared of Rafe seeing her on JJ’s bike, knowing that he’s not on good terms with the pogues, and the last thing she had ever wanted was to make him feel like he was being replaced.

“Don’t trouble yourself too much, JJ,” she sighed. “Besides, you can see me for the next 2 months everyday if that’s what you want.”

He grinned, “Good offer. Will think about that soon.”

(Y/N) laughed, tilting her head to one side before making a move to reach for her phone. JJ watched as she filled in her passcode, went straight to Contacts, and handed him the phone.

“What’s this?”

“Oh god, you’re annoying,” she rolled her eyes. “Put in your McDonald’s order.”

JJ laughed again, his fingers sliding over her phone screen easily to fill in his number, and he handed her the phone back after saving his name as ‘Handsome pogue’.

“I’ll see you around, (Y/L/N).”

(Y/N) smiled, this time sincerely, and she thought about the possibility of spending her summer in The Cut with JJ where she knew there would be no troubles awaiting her.

It was safe to say that JJ and (Y/N) were inseparable after spending so much time together the next few weeks. Everywhere JJ goes, (Y/N) would be there with him, either by helping him with his work in the restaurant or running for groceries to deliver with him. She liked it with him; he took her mind off Rafe, and that was everything that she needed.

JJ knew about the girl’s relationship with Rafe last year, but he was careful not to cross the invisible line. He was gentle with her, always studying her reactions at certain places (he was sure Rafe had taken her to those places before) and in return, she knew everything about him.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” she bit her lips, letting the water soaked her jeans as they laid on the sand, gazing at the view. She felt sorry for the blonde boy after knowing the truth about his father, and wished she could help him in any way.

“That’s okay,” he replied. “Hey, I’m bringing you to meet my friends. Would you like that?”

“Your friends?” She raised her brows, “Like Kiera and Pope?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “Would you like to meet them?”

(Y/N) thoughts went back to the many times Rafe had told her about the pogues, but she always saw them as a tight group of friends who always had each other’s backs. She never had that kind of friendship before, especially living in New York where almost everyone is fake, and sometimes wished she could have something like that.

“Okay, yeah,” she nodded, “Would they like me?”

“You’re kidding? You’re amazing!” JJ gushed out, throwing his arms onto the air before slapping the water, resulting in a splash across her face.

She gasped, “Fuck, you’re fucking dead.”

“No, no, I don’t mean it-”

The conversation turned into a water fight, their screams filling the air and attracting everyone’s attention, but (Y/N) didn’t care. She was enjoying the moment, with JJ, and she wished she could do this forever.

“Stop it!” JJ laughed, pushing her down to the sand before pinning her arms on top of her head. He watched as her chest heaved, a smile playing on her lips.

He pulled away, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

(Y/N) pulled him into a kiss, her fingers wrapping themselves around his jawline and allowing the water to completely wet their whole body. JJ softened into the kiss, still so shocked, but he never felt better than ever.

(Y/N) pulled away, giggling. “You’re red in the face, JJ.”

“Huh?” He smiled, and quickly pulled her up with him. “Let’s go to the Chateau. Get you cleaned up.”

“I’m not meeting your friends looking like this, J,” she rolled her eyes, pushing him away slightly. He pulled her close, placing a soft kiss against her forehead that left her all breathless.

“Why not? You’re still pretty.”

She made a face, but let her body be pulled away by JJ to his bike. She was nervous, of course, to see his friends, but she decided it was time anyways.

If she was to date JJ, then she would have to meet his friends and talk to them eventually.

When (Y/N) first entered the chateau, she didn’t know what to expect. Pope and Kiera were friendly to her, but she could feel the strange vibe between her and Kie, but they were both trying to be polite not to mention anything.

(Y/N) knew there was somebody missing from the group, but she didn’t dare mention it to anyone. JJ had hinted about this to her before, something about John B getting convicted, but she had tried her best to stray away from the topic.

“Let’s play truth or dare,” Kie smiled, clasping her hands together and laying her back against the chair. She watched as JJ whispered something to (Y/N), feeling her heart tightened when she laughed, and shook her head. Kie would never let anyone like her trouble her.

“JJ, truth or dare,” Kie said, crossing her arms. Her question was directed to JJ, but she watching (Y/N) intently.

“Dare.”

“Come on, we’re short of one person who could think of the best dares,” she said, and (Y/N) realised the piercing tone and attention towards her. She sucked in a breath, not sure if she was just stating or directing the statement to her in a satirical manner.

“Okay, truth,” JJ rolled his eyes.

“Do you miss John B?”

“Kie-” Pope groaned, “Not the time.”

(Y/N) watched as he glanced at her, but quickly pulled away when he realised she was staring at him too.

“Okay, since you guys wanna be such assholes,” Kie sat up straighter. “(Y/N), truth or dare?”

“I’m not playing.”

“Of course you’re playing,” Kie laughed, “You’re fucking with JJ now right? You gotta show-”

“Shit, Kie, what’s your problem?” JJ sighed, throwing his arms up into the air. “She’s a friend of mine.”

“She’s not your friend!” She suddenly exclaimed, “She fucking saw Rafe shot Sheriff Peterkin but decided to keep her stupid mouth shut because-”

“Stop it!” JJ yelled, pushing her against the seat. “Kie! Not right now!”

“What do you mean not right now?” (Y/N) asked, disbelief lacing in her tone. What was even happening? She was having the best time of her life a few hours ago at the beach, and now this?

“Oh, did your boyfriend not tell you?” Kie laughed. “It’s all an act for you to confess to him that you saw Rafe kill Sheriff Peterkin. Don’t fucking act dumb with me, (Y/N), you saw, and you didn’t tell anyone.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she gritted her teeth, “I never saw him kill anyone.”

“Bullshit!”

“Kie!” JJ yelled, using all of his power to hold off the struggling girl. He motioned for Pope to take over and tried to reach (Y/N), only for her to walk straight towards the exit.

“Wait, wait, I don’t mean it-” he sighed, wrapping his fingers around her wrist before pulling her close. “I don’t-”

“You betrayed me,” she said. “Are you that stupid? So you planned about helping me to the taxi stop so that I can confess whatever it is about Rafe? Is that your fucking plan?”

“No, oh my god, I didn’t mean-”

“Fuck! I know I can never trust you guys,” she hissed, pulling her hand away before walking towards the door. She groaned again when she realised the lack of a vehicle to drive home, but she rather walk back home than be in the same distance as JJ or Kie or anyone else.

She walked alone all the way to the main part of town so that she could hire a cab, and just to make her day any better; the rain suddenly decided it was time to cool the island, and (Y/N) was left to soak.

She put her arms around her, shivering slightly, looking back at her previous way and wondering how much time she had spent walking from the Chateau. If only she had driven all the way from Figure 8 to The Cut, she wouldn’t have had to waste her time walking mindlessly.

A few minutes after, she saw a car pulling up beside her. She decided to ignore the black vehicle in hope for whoever it is to finally give up.

“Get in, (Y/N).”

Part #2

[touyasdoll]

Dabi but make him a Spencer’s/Hot topic employee at your local mall and he’s obviously the hot shit bad boy “don’t bring home to daddy” type. And he likes you, cute little GameStop employee across the mall centre from him.

He takes his breaks and spends the whole time in GameStop, looking at games he’s never gonna buy leaning over the counter and hoping to get a peak at you n your cleavage. He’s not picky he’ll take what he can get. Your boss hates him, but he will never tell him to leave because he draws in some gamer girls that wanna talk to him while he pursues. He ignores them tho, always asking for the cute girl behind the counter to give him some specs on whatever console he’s not interested in, tell him what one game is about or the other. He’s so slick whenever he slides his phone across the counter and says “thinking of getting a PC, I’ll give you a call about specs if you’re cool with it.” He doesn’t care if you don’t know shit about it.

Heaven forbid you walk into Spencer’s while he’s working either, he’ll get the widest grin and practically hop over the counter to “help” you shop around. Doesn’t care if you have a friend with you, he’s not interested in anyone but you. He’ll point at the piercings trying to gauge which ones you have or might want, he’ll point at some he has and if he can make ‘em work for other places. He winks if you look at him, tells you you can always find out what he means.

Gawd, help you if you look at the lingerie, he’s picking the skimpiest one and saying “wish I could see this on a real babe instead of this dumbass mannequin”

VIIIIIIIII MY HEART ISNT THE ONLY THING THAT POUNDING AJDHXGAGS I WANT HIM SO BAD

pls I worked in a mall for so fucking long. I managed a pretzel shop and it was utter bullshit, but Dabi stopping by all the time?? to flirt?? and knowing you could just skip your happy ass down to his store to hangout with him whenever you wanted some attention from him pls I will perish zhavzvabs

[4dtk]

anon: “hi i was the one who requested the jisung fluff the other day and i wanna say tHAT ITS SO CUTE AND THANK YOU SO MUCH🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ could i request another jisung drabble with 11 under hugs, 26+29 in kiss, and 18+50 in touch !!” i’m happy you liked it enough to request another one anon! thank you <3 this one is a bit more dialogue and less descriptive, hope you enjoy!

jisung and y/n being dorks basically. they're playing games again hope you don't mind lolol

hugs, 11: clinging to each other

kisses, 26 & 29: giggling while kissing, hushed conversation in-between kisses

touching: 18 & 50: squishing the other’s cheek, putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up

“who the hell used my card to buy video games?” haechan shouts. you can’t tell if he’s more mad or annoyed, but that doesn’t stop the both of you from freezing up.

“jisungie! was it you?” the voice, usually heard in gentle slow ballads and contrasted against the heavy beats of upbeat songs now reverberated throughout the dorms.

there’s no time for the two of you to react when he bursts into the room. jisung’s switch in his hands, you clutching onto his arm, hair messy. even donghyuck couldn’t hold back on a small giggle when the two of you looked like deers caught in the headlights.

“uhm-!” you started a little too loudly, before clearing your throat, “actually- jisung wasn’t the one who used it. you might want to find-“ the mario kart soundtrack, the monotonous fan blowing from across you, a burp that you barely concealed. the whole situation was hilarious, although you couldn’t find it in you to even crack an awkward smile.

there’s panic in jisung’s eyes when he hears the familiar hyung’s name hanging off the tip of your tongue. the gasp from your boyfriend wasn’t missed, nor was the quick hand going over your mouth to shut you up any better.

“you two are shit at lying,” haechan raises a brow, but sighs, “but you wouldn’t know my card details anyway.”

phew. you both collectively relax when the door finally shuts, sinking back into the bed with the lost game of mario kart as jisung’s character stands on last place.

the room stands still for a second before the two of you break into laughter, struggling to explain the small things that made you crack up so bad. you’re barely breathing, holding onto the sheets with an iron grip with chest heaving.

“hyung is going to kill me,” he whispers, the screen naturally going back to the home page after a minute. he puffs his cheeks with a furrow in his brows, pulling you closer now that the game’s done, “ah, well.”

your surprise ends fast, but the other’s is amplified with “hm?”’s and wide eyes when you squish his cheeks between your fingers, laughing at the way his lips form into a duck face.

“oh my god, you look like cheep-cheep!” he swats your hand away with faux anger even when you’re taking the switch into your hands before starting a game on cheep-cheep island, frantically pointing to the obstacles of fish back and forth that you’re not even focused on winning.

jisung can only watch you with a gentle smile on his face, taking the console from you as he places his lips on yours. the kiss is slow, soft, tender, and you can tell he’s hesitant to deepen it. he finally does it when he feels you pull him in where you’re hip to hip, torso to torso.

“wait wait- why would haechan kill you?” you giggle, pulling away as the arms around his neck come round to cup his cheeks.

the other laughs nervously, “not haechan hyung, jeno hyung-“

you kiss him again, red dusts his cheeks, your smile widens.

“but didn’t jeno say it was okay to use hyuck’s details- oh. ohhhhh…” realisation hits you. “you’re sneaky bitch!”

jisung only snorts at the name-calling, “hyung said it was okay that i use it but… i didn’t. he hoped he could rope me in and we’d have to pay the bill together since he knows my games are cheaper but,” he shrugs.

“and to think you were so excited about the game too… why didn’t you just buy it? they would’ve let you off anyway.”

“eeh, i have my personal bank account here,” jisung messes up your hair, planting a peck on your lips.

your sound of protest is lost to his lips when he kisses you again and you can feel his skin heat up under your hands that it makes you giggle. jisung pulls away.

“i guess it feels good to just buy things on your own accord.”

“that wasn’t the case yesterday when you fished cash out of my wallet to buy jjajjangmyeon…”

he pouts, and you resist the urge to squeeze his cheeks again, although your moment of teasing gets interrupted by haechan screaming out lee jeno’s name.

the both of you share a giggle, only burying deeper into the covers with legs tangled over the other and bodies as close as they can be to imitate a deep slumber. it’s comfortable, and you wish you could stay hidden with your boyfriend as long as you can, but you can already hear the calculated steps of two hyungs.

“game face on,” you stifle a laugh at that, thankful your slip-ups were muffled by jisung’s shirt that you can hear his body shake with chuckles, too. you’re prepared for the fake sleepy eyes and exaggerated yawns, and you have to slap jisung’s chest to get him to stop laughing when someone knocks on the door.

“if we die today at the hands of your brothers, i love you.”

“shut up, (y/n),” a soft laugh full of amusement, “but i love you too.”

[winterscaptain]

optics.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: this was so much fun. as always, let me know what you think. especially if you’re on the tag list, reblogs and comments go a long way in making content creators feel loved and keeps us going!

words: 1.05k warnings: language, innuendo, suburban drama

summary: “o, beware, my lord, of jealousy; / it is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock / the meat it feeds on.” ― william shakespeare, othello. au!september 2012

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

You keep your eyes on Jack as he sprints from one end of the soccer pitch to the other, ignoring the other eyes on the sidelines. You refused to buy into the whole “soccer mom” stereotype about the other parents on Jack’s team, but that will broke fast. 

“You’re the coach’s girlfriend, right?” One of the moms, a tall, statuesque blond around Aaron’s age, approaches you from the side. 

You shift your gaze to Aaron, rocking from one side to the other, bent over with his hands on his knees, watching and calling out to the boys on the field. A little smile crosses your face. “Yeah.” 

“Oh. Great. That’s great.” She sounds… almost excited, and you squint at her. 

Before you can say anything, she walks away. 

Weird. 

While you watch, a couple of the moms approach Aaron, one after the other, including the woman who spoke to you. You pick up the happenings quickly after that, realizing they’re all trying to sus you out as their competition. 

Un-fucking-believable. 

He hardly spares them a passing glance, but you can’t kick the burning metal taste in the back of your mouth. 

You can’t hear what they say, but the whispers and the stares are enough for you as it is. 

Jack’s team, of course, wins the game, but you’re more than a little subdued as the three of you get back into the car. 

Aaron reaches across the console and slips his fingers between yours. “You okay?” 

“Mhm.” You glance over at him. “Yep.” 

He spends another second looking at you, a peculiar little frown on his face. There’s a moment where you’re sure he’s going to say something, but Jack interrupts you with a McDonalds request. 

You take the opportunity and turn around, tweaking his cap. “Only if I get to steal your fries.”  

One side of his mouth lifts. “Deal.” 

+++

Later in the afternoon, Aaron corners you in the kitchen while Jack plays his video game in the living room. It’s like that kid is made of energy and attention. 

“What’s going on with you today?” He leans against the counter, crossing his arms. 

You slice apples with care, preparing them for Jack when he comes back in -

You check the clock. 

- eight minutes. 

“I’m fine, Aaron.” 

“No.” He shakes his head and pushes off the fake granite. “Not buyin’ it.” Crossing the kitchen, he drags his fingers along your hip before settling behind you. “Wanna tell me?” 

You sigh and put down the paring knife, setting it beside the plate. 

Aaron, in a move that almost makes you laugh, moves it out of arm’s length without a word. 

“It’s stupid.” 

You can feel him shake his head. “Your feelings aren’t stupid.” 

“It’s just -” You cut yourself off with a huff, heat rising in your cheeks as you realize what you’re about to articulate. “The women. It’s the women - the moms - on the soccer team.” 

Aaron lets you go and rests his backside on the counter beside you, his arms crossed. “Did somebody say something to you?” 

With that tone, you almost wish someone tried you today. He’s in full-protection mode. It’s cute.

“No, no.” You chew on your lower lip for a second. “It’s - They. Ugh.” You drop your head. “I know they’re all just gaming for a shot at you and it really - It really pisses me off, actually.” 

He’s quiet, knowing there’s more to your rant. 

“I mean, one of them came up to me and asked me if I was your girlfriend and she looked so pleased when I said yes and I’m sitting here with a proverbial fucking egg on my face with nothing to say and no ground to stand on because the optics are terrible -”

“Whoa.” Aaron stops you. “Optics?” 

You scoff. “Oh come on. Me, maybe thirty. You - Well. You. And Jack. And I’m sure they all know we work together. And I look like the fucking flavor of the week come in to steal the hottest fucking commodity in the league -” 

Aaron’s forehead crinkles and he takes you by the hands, gently tugging you in front of him. “Slow down. Take a breath.” 

You take exactly one breath, in and out sharp through your nose. 

“Good.” His brown eyes scour your face for a moment before returning to meet your flinty gaze. “I have a couple of questions.” He dips at his knees and pulls you forward by the belt loops, a dimple threatening at his cheek. “May I approach the bench?”

The heat in your chest cools just a touch, and you offer him a wry smile. “Yeah. I guess so.” 

“Have you ever known me to talk about work at all with people I don’t know?” 

You shake your head. 

“Have you ever known me to have a ‘flavor of the month’ hanging off my arm?”

You shake your head. 

“Have you ever known me to respond to any comments regarding my age or yours, even and especially when it arises in critique?”

You shake your head. 

“Have you ever known me to look at anyone - ever - that isn’t you?” 

You shake your head. “I told you it was stupid.” 

He laughs and pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “I love you so much, you know that?” 

“Yeah. I do.” 

Aaron kisses the side of your head. “Good.” 

He leans back to look at you, the back of his fingers brushing against your cheekbone. “And no forty-something, suburban soccer mom could ever be as interesting, as fun, or have as much integrity…” He pokes the center of your chest, soft and playful. “...As you.” 

That makes you smile, and you turn back toward the plate, throwing some carrots next to the apples. “Fuck off, Hotch. You’re getting corny in your old age.”

“Corny? I could swear you said something else…” He places his hands on your waist and presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck. “But maybe I was mistaken.” 

“Maybe I did. With your hearing, you may never know.” 

+++

tagging: @avengersbau @ambicaos @angelsbabey @arganfics @averyhotchner @bwbatta @capricorngf @cevanswhre @crazyshannonigans @criminalsmarts @deagibs @forgottenword @genevievedarcygranger @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @hurricanejjareau @joanofarkansass @kelstark @prentisswrites @little-blue-fishie @lotties-journey-abroad @mandylove1000 @missdowntonabbey @mrs-dr-reid @pan-pride-12 @popped-weasels @quillvine @qvid-pro-qvo @reidingmelodies @reids-mismatchedsocks @roses-and-grasses @shesbiochem4 @ssahotchnerr @ssaic-jareau @ssareidbby @starsandasteroids @stxrrywildflower @sunflowersandotherthings @sunshine-em @teamhappyme @this-broken-band-girl @ughitsbaby @unicorn-bitch @venusbarnes @violet-amxthyst @word-scribbless @writefasttalkevenfaster @zizzlekwum @iconicc @avatarkorraswife @mooneylupinblack @ssworldofsw @nuvoleincielo @kaemarie23 @violentvulgarvolatile @abschaffer2 @ellyhotchner @rousethemouse @baumarvel @reidtomestyles @dreamsonthewall @jhiddles03 @willlemonheadsupremacy @infinity1321 @messyhairday-me @itsalwaysb33nyou @finnologys @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @hothothotchner @happyvol7 @ssa-holmes @mac99martin @ssahotchner99 @triangularroses @vagabond-ing

[zackcollins]

speechless || bo bichette

masterlist

Author’s Note: Hello! Everyone gets a treat of a second fic today because I was in a mood to write. Hope that’s okay. Idk man. When you’re in the mood to write, you write. And sometimes, you just wanna post right away because you’re too impatient to wait. Ya know? Anyways. GIF credit to glasnow!

Warnings: An anxiety attack. That’s probably it??? I don’t think there’s anything else. Feel free to let me know otherwise and I’ll fix this warnings section for you.

Word Count: 1.9k+

Title: Speechless by Dan + Shay

Additional: The reader should be gender neutral again! I don’t think I used any identifying language or pronouns or anything. If I did, it was accidental because I was hella distracted watching my dog while my grandparents went grocery shopping. As always, let me know how I did because constructive criticism is always welcomed!

Tagging: @whimsical-daydreams​ @donttelltheelf-x​

You had suffered from severe anxiety; it had been a part of your life for as long as you could remember. At this point, it had totally consumed you. You could hardly do anything anymore without your anxiety trying to take over in some form or another. It was the worst feeling in the world.

That's why it was like all your prayers had been answered when Bo waltzed into your life. For the first time in your life, you were able to open up about your anxiety with someone. There was just something about Bo that made you feel safe, secure, and like nothing would ever hurt you again.

You had been dating for about two and a half years before your relationship changed. It changed on what had otherwise been a quiet day in the middle of February. Snow was falling outside of your house, blowing around peacefully in the evening breeze. You were sitting on the window seat of the living room window, staring out onto the street while idly sipping on a mug of hot chocolate.

Somewhere outside, you heard a dog distantly barking. You found it odd because to the best of your knowledge, nobody in the housing community you and Bo lived in had a dog. Most of them had cats because they were easier for their housekeepers to look after when they were away on business trips or vacation. You quickly shook it out of your mind, though, thinking it only to be a dog that had wandered in from somewhere nearby. It wasn't entirely unlikely for that to happen because some of the people in the housing communities on either side had been known to let their dogs roam freely from time to time.

A couple of minutes later, you heard the front door to the house open. That snapped you out of thinking about the barking dog because you needed to know who walked in. Turning around, you heaved a relieved sign when you saw Bo standing in the entryway. You felt a little anxious, however, when you saw that he had placed a rather large box at his feet. Placing your hot chocolate on the windowsill, you walked over to Bo.

"What's this, sweetie?" You asked, walking all the way around the box. You wanted to see if it had some sort of label or marking on it that would hint at what was inside; it did not. All it had was a pink ribbon embossed with white hearts tied around it.

Bo smiled as he was undressing from his winter apparel. He tossed his hat into the closet. He unzipped his coat and carefully placed it on one of the coat hooks beside the door. Lastly came his boots. He slipped out of those and tossed them haphazardly onto the plastic boot mat you had bought specifically for the winter so snow wouldn’t be tracked all over your house. He ended up bowling over your boots and a spare pair of boots you kept in case of emergencies. You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest. Bo raised his arms in surrender as he stepped forward and gave you a quick kiss. You relaxed, kissing him back as you wrapped your arms around his back. When you pulled apart, Bo stepped aside and motioned to the box.

 "If you wanna know what’s inside,” Bo produced a pocket knife seemingly out of nowhere because you didn’t know him to carry one. He handed it to you and motioned to the box a second time. “All you have to do is open it.” 

You walked forward and leaned over, carefully cutting the ribbon a couple of times so that it was easier to untangle from the box. Once you had all of the ribbon untangled and balled up, you placed it along with the knife on the console table next to you. When you looked back at Bo, he gave you an encouraging nod and a soft smile. You bit your lip nervously as you carefully lifted the lid off of the box. What was inside made you blink in surprise. Staring back at you was a beagle puppy. You had to blink a couple of more times, just to make sure that truly weren't imagining this. When you surmised that this was, in fact, a real dog sitting in the box, you lifted them out, cradling them in your arms. They even kissed you on the chin a couple of times. That was also all it took for you to be absolutely smitten with this puppy.

Just as you went to put the puppy down, the light from the chandelier made something on their collar glisten. At first, you thought it was name tags or the city registration tags. But, when you examined it, you discovered that it was an engagement ring. You turned to ask Bo about it. Much to your surprise, he was down on one knee, holding his hands out. You handed him the dog (who you could now see was a boy), thinking that was what he wanted. Bo chuckled as he scritched the dog behind the ears. The dog sighed, jackrabbitting his back foot in satisfaction. You huffed an amused breath, rolling your eyes and chuckling.

Bo carefully put the dog down and took the ring off of his collar. He gave him a few more ear scritches which made the dog flop on the floor and curl in a ball. Bo rolled his eyes before he looked up at you, holding the ring in your direction.

"Since I know I'm the best thing to happen to you and you're the best thing to happen to me," Bo paused, wiping tears out of the corners of his eyes, "I was wondering if you'd marry me?"

You clammed up. You felt your anxiety wash over you like a giant wave crashing into the surf. You fell to the floor, chanting a bunch of incoherent nonsense as you curled into a ball and clutched your knees tightly to your chest. You rocked back and forth, tears streaming down your face as you continued to death-grip your knees. It was then that you felt Bo wrap you in his arms. He cradled you, rocking you in time with how you were rocking yourself. Only, he was doing it softer, gentler. He was also mumbling some of his stats from last season, the stats from the hockey game you watched yesterday. Hell, he even started mumbling what you needed to buy when you went grocery shopping the next time. Anything mundane and boring because he knew that was what generally helped you out of anxiety episodes. The more boring the better. It gave a sense of normalcy and order that helped your brain to focus on the everyday parts of life as opposed to the falsehoods of meaningless compliments that people only said to you when you were in the middle of an anxiety episode.

Hearing about baseball and hockey stats as well as what groceries you needed to buy helped remarkably well. You calmed down relatively quickly given how badly this attack had started. You tilted your head, looking Bo in the eyes. Your eyes were full of a question that didn’t need to be asked but probably should be anyways. Bo, knowing how to read you by now, simply nodded. He met you halfway as you connected your lips. You shared a brief, albeit meaningful kiss. 

When you broke your lips apart, you held your hand out. "Of course I'll marry you."

You smiled, though it was a little awkward because you were still recovering from your anxiety attack, as Bo placed the ring on your finger. You moved your hand around, looking at the ring from every angle. It was a gorgeous ring. It was also simple and not very flashy. Which is something you had told Bo you wanted when the time came for him to finally propose. You weren’t a flashy or extravagant person so there was no need to have a flashy or extravagant ring. The thought of having an expensive or flashy ring made you really anxious. You were afraid that somebody would break in and steal it from you. And you didn’t want to live the entire rest of your life in fear that someone was going to break into your house to steal something from you. You had told Bo that that was no way to live. That’s why you were content with a small, simple ring. You didn’t have to live in a constant state of anxiety that some schmuck off the street was going to get the wise idea to break in one night and rob you of it. And the ring Bo had picked was exactly the ring you had been eyeing the last time you were in a jewellery store. So, it worked out even better.

Bo snapped you out of your thought by grabbing you by the chin with his thumb and forefinger. He tilted your face up so that you were looking at each other directly. Bo’s eyes flitted down to your lips and then quickly back up to look at you. You nodded as best you could with Bo holding onto your chin, a soft smile breaking out across your lips. Bo smiled back, dropping his hand away from your chin. He, instead, grabbed your hand and interlaced your fingers. You huffed softly before you leaned forward and connected your lips with Bo’s. Bo smirked into the kiss, bringing his other hand up and resting it against your shoulder. The kiss was far more passionate than the first and you swore it could’ve gone on forever and ever. The only reason you stopped was because the puppy weaseled his way in between you and licked both of your noses. Bo laughed and booped the puppy on his nose. You made an amused noise and scritched the puppy's chest.

Bo turned back to you after you both spent a few moments playing with the puppy. "Sorry for surprising you. I know how you hate surprises."

"It's alright, Bo. It would've defeated the whole purpose if you told me," you responded, moving in closer to Bo.

At that moment, the puppy plopped himself down in between the two of you. You both scratched him behind either ear. He made a soft groan of appreciation, before falling fast asleep. He was snoring softly after a few moments which made both you and Bo chuckle bemusedly.

"What do we name him?" Bo asked, picking him up and placing him in your lap.

"Biscuit!" You replied with excitement. The dog responded to that, briefly opening his eyes and snuffling before he went back to sleep. "See! He likes that name." 

Your smile grew wider as your leaned down and gave Biscuit a kiss on the head. He snuffled again, his tail wagging against your knee. You lit up significantly, almost forgetting that you had had an anxiety attack a few minutes ago.

“Scratch that,” you said, a smile beaming on your face. “He loves that name.”

Bo just shook his head, chuckled, and waved a dismissive hand at you. "You're such a huge dork. You know that, right?"

"But I’m your huge dork," you replied, pointing to the ring on your finger as proof of that claim.

"Yes, yes you are."

[violetsandfluff]

SOMEDAY MY PRINCE WILL COME

Part 1: Divine Arrangements

Read the trailer here. Warnings: arranged marriage. I will not be posting on my usual days next week because Y/N will be too busy. Thanks in advance and I hope you enjoy! Word count: 1.2k+ @chocochipcookie305 @thebluetint bc you liked the this thing

“The king has a new chariot,” my mother ranted haughtily as she sat down in her rocking chair after work. “Who uses chariots anymore what with all of these cars? He has garages full of them, does he not? Never have I ever seen that lazy old king in a chariot.

“And look at us out here in the village, busting our backs to feed him another meal and buy more things to stroke his vanity.”

“Now, Sally,” my father consoled in his kind, tactful manner. “We mustn’t judge the king yet. He has made many rational decisions that have worked in the favor of his people.”

“Scrap the decisions! Any king high on God can imagine what should be able to throw a murderer or two in prison!”

“What does high mean?” my little brother Mortimer inquired, confusion crossing his soft, precious features.

“Never mind that,” I said hastily, scooping him up in my arms. “Momma’s had a long day at work. Do you wanna help me make some dinner?”

“Yeah!” He gave me a broad, toothy smile and he touched the tip of my nose lightly with his pointer finger. “Boop!”

“Boop!” I touched his nose back. “What should we make?”

“Mac and Cheese!” he replied decidedly.

“That sounds good,” I agreed. “We can start making it as long as you stay quiet. Okay, Mortimer?”

Mortimer nodded solemnly, taking my suggestion of silence very seriously. Mom and Dad’s tones had grown hushed and urgent and you planned on listening to their every word.

They were talking about arranging a marriage for me; not arranging, rather selling me off to any strange man who would pay a solid amount.

I didn’t want to be sold like a worthless possession, but the money would be my family’s to flaunt. They could give it away to other villagers or gloat about it to the king.

I just hoped that, given that I get my way, my man is handsome and he loves me. I want to have a family someday. I dream about it all the time. I just never think about how soon it may come.

And there I was presumably overthinking the whole matter. That’s such a me thing to do.

Mortimer remained silent (for the most part) for the remainder of our time cooking, and when we sat down for dinner, my parents kept making fleeting eye contact with each other. They were unusually quiet throughout the duration of the meal and the moment they were finished, they told Mortimer to leave the table.

This meant I was left alone with my parents.

My cool-tempered father cleared his throat twice; once quietly, once louder as if he was preparing to make an unnerving proclamation.

“Y/N,” he shifted uncomfortably in his creaky chair.

“Your mother and I have made a decision regarding your future,” my Mother said quickly.

I listened intently, pretending that I hadn’t heard their entire conversation from the kitchen.

“We would like you to marry. We could get a tremendous amount of money from your future husband and use it for good in the community. However…” she made eye contact with my father, signaling for him to continue for her.

“However,” he began, “Because your are of legal age in this country, you can say no to us.”

“Just know that your beauty can give us a thing of utmost importance,” my mother added.

“She doesn’t need to do anything,” prodded my father uncomfortably. “We don’t need anything. We’re scraping by just fine.”

“It’s all in the word scraping,” my mother retorted. “It’s up to you, Lovebug. All up to you.”

I had so many voices in my head I almost grew deaf. Some voices were telling me to go with their plan. I could end up with the man of my dreams and benefit my community all the while. But on the other hand, my man could hate me and abuse me and make my life miserable. Still, I felt compelled to oblige to their plan to help the village.

“I can do it,” I squeaked. Then, “Who will it be?” My breath caught in my throat as I waited for the response.

“Well,” my father glanced in dismay at my mother who was jumping and clapping for joy. “We will collect some of the most, say, beneficial men in the country and let you choose.

If it was my choice, nothing could go wrong… could it?

~~~

My father and mother had met dozens of young men waiting to marry me and assist our village. They all agreed on how barbaric it was that the king was stealing money from such a poor area. Some men wished for my hand in marriage out of spite, others for beauty, but eventually I had five young men to choose from.

My parents held private meetings with each one of them to get to know them. They had spent the larger part of a week getting to know them, and they spared no details.

“Harry is so handsome,” mused my mother. “If you were looking for a man with looks, he surely must be your choice.” She lowered her voice to a whisper and said, “He seems like a good kisser too,” only to pull away and giggle. “He would pay a hefty sum for your hand.”

“Liam is very reasonable and down to earth,” my father said stiffly. “He’s wise beyond his years.”

“But all of the men are very handsome,” my mother was still ranting about Harry and his outrageous looks. “A girl with your beauty deserves nothing less.”

“Louis has the personality of a jester,” my father spoke over my mother. “You’d never have a dull day with him around.”

“Niall seems perfectly charming, but he’s not very attractive. He might be noted as ugly in my book.”

“Niall is a perfectly nice man and he seems very family-oriented. He would care for your wellbeing and look after you well.”

“Then there’s Zayn…” my mother trailed off and she looked to my father for support.

“Zayn is a little different,” he began gingerly, “but he seems like a nice enough guy. I can’t find anything to hold against him… no evidence at least.” His tact was nearly impeccable, but I could still sense the uncertainty in his voice. “He’s an interesting character, that Zayn. Very… secretive. Almost nervous, he was… well, don’t worry about it, Princess. You’ll pick the right man.”

“He’s right,” my mother comforted. “I know you will.”

After this conversation, I was extremely excited to meet Harry. If he was nearly as attractive as my mother said, I would have no problem falling for him. Liam seemed like just the type of guy my father would get along with, and Louis seemed quite entertaining. If Niall was homely, I might be hesitant to marry him, but he seemed so sweet. And Zayn… I was a little scared of meeting him. He seemed like a criminal type, bad vibe and all.

Despite the drawbacks, I was excited to meet the guys. I wanted to know who I could love. I wondered just how handsome Harry was and if he was a good kisser.

I would have a date with Harry on Monday, Liam on Tuesday, Louis on Wednesday, Niall on Thursday, and, gulp, Zayn on Friday.

[yourheartonfire]

hi! i really like your writing (like a lot) and i wanted to ask if you take commissions? i struggle myself sometimes so i love reading other people’s takes :)

if not you don’t have to answer oc, but if you do: i would love to read about a hero and a villain who used to fight each other but slowly became closer and adapted each others ideas, so now they are neither here nor there?

Hey there! Thank you for the kind words. I don't take commissions, but I do take requests and suggestions.

"Stop, evildoer!"

The villain spun around, gold and diamonds spilling from their fist. Sure enough, there was an honest-to-god hero decked out in an official costume in the pawn shop doorway. Posing.

"Are you serious? Evildoer?" the villain sneered and turned back to scooping valuables of out the smashed jewelry cases. "Go find a Saturday morning cartoon. I'm busy."

"Hey," the hero protested, visibly deflating. They dropped the pose, picked their way forward through the warped metal security gates and the broken glass. "You're that electro guy, right? You shorted the power, didn't you, so the alarm wouldn't go off?"

"Yeah, so?" the villain muttered, scanning the room. There wasn't actually that much jewelry, and they couldn't carry out armfuls of old laptops and game consoles.

The hero straightened their cape and posed again. "So you've knocked out power to the whole block! All to rob some hard working local citizen's business -"

The villain laughed. "You're not from around here, are you? Most of this shit is stolen. Everybody knows it - something goes missing, you come to Max's and buy it back."

The hero pulled up short, looking around themselves. "Then... you should call the cops. Return these goods to the rightful owners!"

"Cops won't do anything. So might as well be me that gets it." The villain dropped their bag, raised their fists. "But if you wanna square up...?"

"Yes!" The hero took a fighting stance as well. "The police can deal with stolen goods, after I deal with -"

The villain clapped their hands and the power fired back up. The alarm went off with an ear blasting scream and the hero cringed. Quick, the villain grabbed the hero's mask and yanked it to the side, obscuring their eyes.

"Next time, don't talk so much," they yelled over the alarm, and grabbed the goods and fled.

..

The next time they saw the hero, it was their fist first flying from out of the shadows. The villain went sprawling and the hero pounced, pinning their wrists down with an impossibly strong grip.

"You were right," they said. "Less talking has been more effective."

"Is this about the bank job?" the villain said, squirming to get their hands free. "Because that wasn't me and I don't know anything about it."

"Noooo," said the hero, oddly reluctant. "I'm, ah, not technically on duty tonight. I need you to tell me more about Max."

The villain stopped struggling to shoot the hero a look of horror. "Oh no. I'm not your rat. Can't your good friend the cops help?"

The hero looked away. The villain smirked. "Ha."

"I'm not asking you to risk your neck," the hero said quietly. "I'm not even asking you to give back what you took. Just... something's really wrong here. There's too much pressure to look away. Talk and I'll let you go."

The villain narrowed their eyes. "Unauthorized heroing? Cutting deals with criminals? How fast you've fallen."

"Oh, shut up," the hero said. "Just tell me what else everybody knows. It won't get back to you. Please, I'm so close to something big, I can feel it!"

The villain huffed. But talked.

..

The third time the villain saw the hero, the hero was tied to a chair and getting the crap kicked out of them by Max's guys.

"Hey, should we be doing to this to a hero and all?" the villain heard one mutter to another.

"Not to worry, boys," said Max, who'd apparently heard that too. He was sitting across from hero, enjoying the show. "[Hero] here's gone rogue from the Hero Bureau, according to our friends on the force. Pursuing a private citizen, breaking and entering, stealing?" Max chuckled, held up a slim black ledger. "Or attempting to steal. No, no one's coming to save this thief."

"Oh, geez," the villain groaned under their breath from their hiding place in the rafters. And they clapped their hands.

The power in Max's wine cellar went out with a boom.

Immediately Max's heavies whirled around, guns out. None of them looked up, to where the villain dropped from the ceiling and grabbed the hero's electrified cuffs. A quick zap and the cuffs were dead.

"Thanksh," said the hero through a busted lip and snapped the metal off their wrists.

The heavies went down in a flurry of superpowered blows and the occasional flash and scream of electric shock. When the villain clapped the lights back on, they and the hero were the only ones standing.

"Let's get out of here," the villain said. "You get what you need?"

The hero spat out blood and held up the ledger in triumph. "All the detailsh of his operationsh and every cop on hish payroll. But what are you doing here?"

The villain shrugged, helping themself to the cash out of an unconscious thug's wallet. "What was that Max said about you going rogue?"

"Fair point," the hero said as distant sirens began to sound. "Lesh talking, more esshcaping, am I right?"

They ran for it for together.