#i guess cutting down to 6. i lost it

[bambeptin]

tagged by @ghostpyre !!

post 5 songs you’re loving right now:

SHIFT+DEL - Riikira

Watch out for Golem. - Golemm

GIRL HELL 1999 - Femtanyl

EARDRUM - six impala

You Wouldn't Download - Kaizo Slumber

UHHH I never know who to tag with these. and I'm bad at being tagged myself (but I figured it out this time at least)!! sooo I'm gonna tag @catato @uhohproblems @insane-mane @cloversion @blastoffresearch @avpdyama if you wanna do them!!!

and you know what. bonus track

6. Moon - Wolfgun

[charmac]

PLEASEE POST A NEW CHAPTER OF THE SUGAR DADDY FIC I AM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES 😭😭😭😭😭

Updating All These Nights tonight and then Sugar is next to be updated, promise promise.

[simpee9000]

Not Just Friends - 10 -

M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8 : Part 9 : Words 3.1k

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? Also not edited!! CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

It was a turn back to normal after the long conversation between the two of you. Tears sliding down your faces, majority yours but you saw a couple fall from his. It was a necessary conversation. He opened up about his quirk and apologized for ditching you. You apologize for the same.

Easily enough, the two of you moved on from it quickly. Talking about the past two months when all the overwhelming emotions passed. You blabbed about how many new offers you were getting and he talked about how he was hiring more and more people to his agency.

Despite not being able to ignore the last two months, it was easy to move past.

Growing past it within the night, having everything off your chest. It still didn't make things go back to normal.

You continued to share a bed, but changed your schedules around again to see more of each other. Flipping back into your old routine as much as possible. Not without a few changes though. Lunches would only be once a week rather than daily, and you'd be working for another hour or two after he got home. Since you wanted to sleep in still.

But it still improved your relationship again. Building it back up slowly. You were able to eat a late dinner together each night and share an off day. Sharing your off day made it easier for you anyway. After the break-in it was hard to be home without him, so the last two months were rough. Your therapist said you were doing great though, so that helped.

The first days of going back to normal was rough, having to adjust to seeing each other daily again. Conversations between the two of you felt awkward, mainly on your side. You grew so much in those two months, no longer relying on him. It shifted the dynamic.

"Y'good?" Katsuki's gruff voice broke your train of thought. Your eyes flickered up to him.

"Huh?"

"Been fuckin' playin' with your food," he points his fork at your plate, "Don't like it or some shit?"

"No, I like it," you looked back down. It was definitely not your favorite meal he made, but it was good.

His silverware claddered roughly against his plate, his arms crossing, "The fuck has been wrong with you?"

"Do you have to swear with every sentence?" you avoided, taking a bite of your food instead.

You could feel him roll his eyes along with his heavy sigh, "You've been off since."

"A relationship doesn't heal just like that," you pointed out.

"Will you look at me?" he asked annoyed. A glance up at his expression made you cut your attitude. He was trying, that much was obvious. And after all your talk of communication, you were doing nothing.

"Sorry," you set your fork down, engaging in the conversation, "I'm just lost? I guess. Hard to place it. I've changed a lot in the past two months-"

"How?"

You glared at him for interrupting you. "I've stopped prioritizing you. I'm more focused on myself now. It's hard to go back to normal when the 'normal,' was me running circles around you."

He shuffled in his seat, "That's fine. I'm glad you've moved on in that sense, done you good."

"You're not worried how it'll change us?" you asked softly, it's been all you were thinking of for the past few weeks.

"I'm always fuckin' worried," he admitted, eyes drifting to look at the wall instead of you, "But we'll work it out."

You were glad he still viewed the two of you as a 'we,' heart melting slightly as you reached your hand across the table. "I'm not going to tip-toe around you anymore, Kats."

"Good," he gruffed out, uncrossing his arms and grabbing onto your hand. Changing his focus onto that, "I don't want you to."

"Good," you agreed, smiling at how he let his thumb trace over your knuckles.

"You, um," he fumbled for a minute, eyebrows furrowing, "You're still okay with us not doing shit right?"

"I'd never push that," you confirmed, shocked he even thought you would complain about that.

"Don't get me wrong, I would, just-" he pulled his hands back wiping them on his pants before running them down his face, "my dumb fuckin' quirk."

"You love your quirk," you pointed out.

"Yeah and I'd fuckin' love to touch my girlfriend but no, I gotta be a horny virgin 'cause of it," he groaned, crossing his arms again.

Stifling a laugh was difficult, but you managed, "Maybe we can just work up to it? Get you used to the baseline first before, that."

His quirk went off suddenly, "Can't even fuckin' think of it," he groaned, standing up to go wash his hands off.

"It's cute." You followed behind him to place dishes in the skin, having cleared your plates a while ago.

"Fuck you."

"Hey," you laughed, "At least you can tell Denki and Sero that you beat them at No Nut November. And have for the past 19 years."

He shot you a glare from the sink, "The one challenge I wouldn't want to beat, great."

"It's what makes you number one to me, baby," you teased, kissing his shoulder as you moved past him, wanting to pester him while the mood was light and he was already flustered. It was nice how easy it was to move past something with him. But you wanted to test how much he'd react to you not tiptoeing around him anymore.

With success, his quirk popped off again.

"Fuck off."

You let out a crackle of laughter, "You're too easy."

"Die."

He finally stopped washing his hands, turning to dry them off. You watched from the counter, plotting. "Your back looks nice," you commented, his muscles have been more defined lately and you only got to appreciate it now. His tank top showcases his shoulders nicely.

He froze for a moment, side-eyeing you. "Do you want to get blown up or something?"

"No, do you want to get blown?" you asked back, letting Denki's crude humor influence you.

Like a charm, his quirk sparked off. "Quit it."

"Nah, it's too much fun," you smiled at him, kicking off the counter you were leaning on and moving to leave the kitchen. Hand squeezing his bicep when you walked by.

He didn't let you get even a step away before he grabbed your hand and pulled you into him. His hands grabbing at your hips and moving to push you into the counter. "Where do y'think you're goin'?" he smirked down at you.

Your face bloomed a deep shade, blushing harshly at how close he was. He hasn't been that close since you argued two months ago.

"Nothin' to say?"

You blinked up at him, trying to steady the rapid beating of your heart with the way he was tracing circles onto your hips.

"Might like you but that doesn't mean I'll let you say shit and get away with it," he crowded you closer to the counter.

"What happened to your quirk?" you whispered, losing your voice at the proximity.

"You offered to work up to it, right?" he brushed his hands clean on his shirt briefly before going back to your hips.

"Yeah," you looked down at his hands, trying to make sure the watch was off.

"It's off," he confirmed, twisting his wrist so you could see. When you looked back up at him, he held his gaze deeply, "What happened to that smart mouth?"

"Want me to show you?" you placed your hands on his chest, running over the span of his shoulders. Your body was on fire, the two of you flirted, sure, but this was different. His quirk was fully there. He was fully there.

His eyes lidded slightly, zeroing in his focus on your lips, "Fuck yeah I do."

Your lips closed the gap between the two of you. It wasn't as soft and nervous as all the past kisses, it was something you just threw yourself in. Stomach crazy with butterflies as your mind started buzzing. His hands tightened their grip on your hips as he stepped even closer to you.

Bodies curled into each other to get closer. Your hands digging into the hair at the base of his neck as you deepened the kiss. Full of passion and sexual tension. There was hardly any innocence to the kiss, and if there was, it faded within seconds.

A sigh of relief falling from your lips when his hands slipped under your shirt, brushing over your skin roughly. Fingers being callused and dry from work.

As soon as his hands met your skin he pulled away frantically. Pulling his body from yours completely before his quirk started popping off.

"Fuck me," he groaned in frustration, grabbing a dish towel and wiping his hands off.

"I wish I could," you teased.

He shot you a glare, blush flaring all over his face and coating his neck with a red. "Stop," he grumbled.

"Stop what?"

"Stop looking at me like that," he shied away, washing his hands in water for a moment.

You paused for a moment, considering how you looked. With how flushed his face was you could tell you were no better. Lips plumped and freshly kissed red as your shirt was ruffled up from his hands as you leaned back into the counter. "Why would I? You clearly like what you see?"

The confidence within you came from nowhere. There has been sexual tension between the two of you before, many times before. Even before he had the watch. But normally you had to be drunk as hell to make such obvious jokes towards him, especially ones about sex. Maybe it was the fact that it was on the table, when before it wasn't. You knew he wanted it as much as you did.

"Fuck off," he grumbled.

"Come on, Kats," you pushed your luck.

"I love you, but please stop whatever the fuck you're doing before we need a new apartment," he spoke without thought, freezing the second he realized what he said.

You barked out a laugh, he spoke so plainly. You didn't want him to get wrapped up in his head, so you ignored the rushing butterflies over his admissions. "Fine, fine," you gave in, smiling happily at him, "Hug?"

He looked at you, untrusting of you before he opened his arms, gesturing you near.

Taking the moment, you threw yourself in his arms. Wrapping your arms around his waist he pulled you in fully. Letting you rest your head on his chest as he rested his on yours.

Everything felt secure in your relationship, you'd move one step at a time together. With a lot of teasing between, but that was common between you and him, despite the lack of it lately.

"I love you too, by the way," you mumbled into his chest, having a happy feeling travel through your body at the small number of times he's actually said it.

"I know."

You moved slightly to look up at him, his eyes fell on yours before you spoke, "Are you hard?"

He glared sharply, embarrassment covering his features as you felt him grow hot. You were going to ignore the feeling of him pressing into your lower stomach, but decided you wanted the chance to rub it in his face that you have the upper hand here. He tried to pull away, only for you to keep your grip.

"Stop," he warned, his hands raised away from you.

"It's only a little spark, Kats," you tried to comfort.

With a roll of his eyes he smiled evilly down at you, "You asked for it," before you could protest, he wiped his sweaty hands on your face before rubbing the rest of it off on your sweater, down your chest.

"Katsuki! That's gross," you pulled away from him, using your sleeve to wipe away the damp residue of his sweat off your cheek before you pulled the bottom of your shirt out, seeing if he got sweat marks on it. "You just used that as an excuse to touch my tits," you glared at him, seeing the faint marks of his handprint on your shirt, right over your tits. It surprised you that he sweat enough to leave a mark.

He laughed sharply, walking out of the kitchen, "Got no proof, Brains."

"I literally have the proof of your hands on my tits," you called out to him.

He looked over you, "How do I know those are mine?"

"Really? Cause I'd let a random guy grope me and he'd be sweaty enough to leave a mark like you do," you snarked.

"No way to know," he shrugged.

"You're such an ass," you groaned.

His phone buzzing loudly cut off his laughter.

"This late?" you asked as you eyed his work phone.

"It's PR," he said as he furrowed his brows, answering the phone, "Dynamight."

You heard mumbling for a moment before he huffed and put his phone on speaker. "Can she hear me now?" the lady's voice rang through, the same manager you've spoken with before.

"Hello," you answered for him, "What can I do?"

"You've done quite enough," she spoke abruptly. It took a lot to get her mad, so to have pissed her off five words was a record. "People are spreading pictures of you crying in the middle of the street."

Katsuki's eyes shot to you, concerned.

"They also claim to of heard you talking to Deku, saying you said his name several times."

His concerned look turned to a glare quickly.

"I can explain that," you said quickly before Katsuki added his two cents, "I was having a rough time and decided to call a friend, simple."

She laughed, "It's not the simple. It was the night of your party. And with the lack of social outings between Dynamight and you, people are saying the two of you broken up."

"Why does this matter?" you asked annoyed. It was still a sore subject.

"It matters because bad things are being said about the two of you. It's not just Dynamight's image anymore, but yours too. They're saying he's abusive while also saying that you're sleeping your way to the top."

You've heard that said too many times to count. Both things. So filled with anger, you grabbed the phone from Katsuki's hand and hung up.

"The fuck?"

"I don't know! I'm annoyed," you huffed, tossing his phone onto the couch before pacing, "I'm sick of people talking."

"I get it's annoying but you're gonna hear it-"

"Not helping," you glared at him.

"PR helps get them to knock it off," he pushed.

"She hardly says anything but the obvious," you rolled your eyes, "We can just post a picture of us or something."

"How does that prove I don't hit you?"

You paused your pacing, "Under a truth quirk I said the worst thing about you was your socks. I think if you abused me I would have said that."

He gave up his fight with a shrug, moving to sit on the couch instead.

"Don't get me wrong, it pisses me off that they say that. There is just no way to prove otherwise. Nothing is ever enough for them," you corrected, not wanting him to get the idea that you were only concerned for yourself.

"If you think that, why are you so pissed right now?" he crossed his arms.

You shook your eyes off the flex of his arms, throwing your hands up in frustration, "Because everyone says that, I hate hearing it."

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone thinks you hit me or some bullshit," you huff.

"Everyone?"

"Like people that don't know you," you changed, "you're a softy and they ignore it.

"Who you callin soft?" he sat up straight.

You smiled at him, "Kats, you can't even look mad at me."

He glared at you, eyebrows being the only thing supporting it. His eyes were soft. "Die."

"Let's just forget about it," you sighed, not wanting to talk about the press or your relationship. Nothing stressful.

"Why were you even cryin' to Deku?"

"You," you admitted shamefully, looking away. Talking about this would be stressful.

When he said nothing, you turned back to him. He was staring out the window. The view was filled with city lights.

"I only called him 'cause I couldn't call you," you comforted, stepping closer to him.

"Could always call me," he spoke softly.

"Kats," at this point you were standing right in front of him

"Yeah?"

You swallowed quickly, "We don't need to do everything together."

He took a deep breath, "I know, just want you to know you can call me, no matter what."

"I already know that," you smiled fondly at him. It was one of the best things about him. No matter how mad he was at a friend or family, he would never ignore them if they needed anything, even a random call. He might ignore a stupid text, but he never missed a call from someone close to him.

"Good."

"Maybe," he looked up at you, "We don't do anything publically? If they think I'm dating you then good, if they think I'm not, I don't care."

"If you want," he shrugged.

"You don't mind?" you step closer to him, him making space for you by manspreading further.

"Not really, just don't go making 'em think you're dating that damn nerd."

"Okay."

"Want somethin'?" he looked at you with a brow up. His eyes flickering from your chest to your face.

"Seems like you do," you smiled, inviting yourself more into his personal space by straddling him, both knees by his side.

"What are you doing?" his hands were pushed outwards, far from you.

"It's fine," you hushed him, sitting your weight on his lap.

"We didn't even do this stuff with the watch," he hissed at you, face flushed.

"Yes we did," you looked at him confused, "I made you cum y-"

"Shut it," he huffed, hands popping with the sound of his quirk, "Get off."

"Look, if you really want to, I will, but I don't think you want me to," you didn't want to force him into anything.

"What even put you in this mood?" he glared at you.

"You looked at my tits," you shrugged.

"Cause you still have my handprint on em," he smirked proudly.

You looked down at them quickly, "Bakugo."

"What? It's how it should be."

"Will it stain?"

"Shouldn't."

"I hate you," you glared at him.

"Sure, cause one glance at your tits makes you wanna jump me, cause you hate me," he was too cocky.

"Shut up you can hardly kiss me without losing your mind," you fought back.

"Kissed ya earlier didn't I?"

"Barely, come on, kiss me like a man-"

Forgetting his prior reluctance, he pulled you into him. Connecting your lips in a messy kiss as his hand held you to him by the back of your neck. Slowly losing its grip before sliding down to your waist. Losing himself into the kiss just as you were.

You were shocked he was even kissing you, cherishing the win regardless. Moving more onto him. Wrapping your arms around him, scratching at his scalp as you pulled on his hair.

The groan that left his lips encouraged you to push down more in his lap, wanting something more. You could never get enough of him. Anything he'd give, you'd take.

A rough push of yourself onto him caused his quirk to go off, not just a small spark either.

It singed your top, burning your skin.

You jumped off his lap once he let go, holding your sides.

His hand was placed right over your old scar.

Posted late cause I forgot to finish the chapter, and the tag list is being a bitch rn. (phone is glitching and laptop is weird) if it's fucked up mb.

---

-Next Part-

In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3

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[roseyuri]

⋆｡𖦹°‧ PUSHIN’ N PULLIN’ kim minji x reader

౨ৎ warnings: idol!au, 6th member reader, minji and yn argue like it’s their 9-6 job, yn is lost and minji is confused, swearing

from the moment minji and yn crossed paths during training, their connection was more like a collision. there was an instant clash of personalities that made it clear they weren't destined to be friends.

yn just didn’t like minji, there was no specific reason, there was just something about the older girl the worked her up, she was a person who never let people get to her but there was just something about minji that made her want to pull her hair down

minji didn’t like yn for the way she held herself, she was a witch dressed like cher horowitz, she was mean but somehow could manipulate her words into sounding so sweet and caring while she’s practically tearing someone apart.

but even with her sickly personality, she was still the most popular member, it was like everyone was just blinded by her face, including the other girls that they couldn’t see her for what she really is, or at least in minji’s eyes what she really is a-

“bitch,” minji said angrily to the girl who stood in front of mirror adjusting her pink polo shirt with the matching tennis skirt, “you’re such a bitch.”

“how many times do we have to do through this minji,” the younger girl states and she looks at the older through the mirror who scrunches up her face at the girl’s informality, “I know I’m a bitch, that doesn’t insult me.”

minji groaned and threw her head back at the girls words, it was like yn lived to annoy her, “can you just hurry up so I can use the washroom before we leave?”

“just one second,” yn whined before turning to face minji, “how do I look?”

minji gave her a deadpanned expression, “horrible.”

“I guess that means I look good because you have zero taste,” yn smiled at minji, “I would immediately go change if you said I looked good.” and like that she walks out the washroom leaving a raged minji.

as minji finished up in the washroom she headed out, the only thing on her mind being a good comeback for what yn said a couple minutes ago, she turns the corner to see the rest of the girls at the door.

“finally!” yn says as she links her arm with haerin, they were pretty close, something minji could never understand, it was like yn talked haerin’s ear off and haerin just entertained the girls useless thoughts, “you took forever!” minji looks at yn like she said the most diabolical thing in the word, “you were the one who took the longest!”

“was I? I don’t remember that.”

just as minji was about the launch herself at yn danielle cut in, “let’s not argue right now please, our managers are waiting for us in the car.”

minji gave yn a glare before pushing through them to open the door, “let’s go.”

as they made their way to the van, hanni, hyein, and danielle darted ahead, eagerly claiming their favorite seats in the back leaving the last three seats for yn, haerin and minji.

minji took the window seat, yn took the middle and haerin took the other window seat, minji couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the fact that the van had barely driven off and she was already talking about herself.

“so, he said that I was his ideal type on a variety show right? he said that it was because I fit his standards, that’s a compliment right?” yn immediately started rambling to haerin who raised her brows at the information yn just told her.

“it depends on what his standard is.” the cat like girl responds going on her phone to search up the male idols name, “it could be a bad thing…”

“but if I fit his standards and I am me that means that it has to be a compliment,” yn says, “I mean hello?! it’s me.”

this felt like the a hundredth time minji had rolled her eyes today because of any, she will never understand why yn entertains these male idols they never come to her for good intention, as soon as they realize how intelligent yn is they bail.

did she just call yn intelligent?

she did the mistake of telling yn her opinion on yn’s relationships, but it only led to yn saying this.

“you’re just jealous, that I get attention from cute boys.”

her jealous?! that was the most insane thing she’s ever heard come out of the mouth since she met the girl.

she tried to tune out yn’s boys problems and looked at the time, just a couple more minutes until they get to the shoot.

minji watched as yn had her phone stuck in her face as the stylist touched up her pink nike outfit for the shoot, “you’ve had your face in the phone all day, is this boy that you’re so interested that important?”

yn quietly thanked the stylist before walking past minji down the hall to get to the set, minji following closely behind her, “you do know that he’s just gonna end up like every other one right?”

yn stopped in her tracks at minji’s words at turned to face the girl, “can you not be up my ass for one second.” she snapped, walking closer to the older girl until she hit the wall.

“you don’t even know him,” she adds flashing minji a cold glare and stepping back.

“I know what he wants,” minji responds immediately, “and it’s not you, it’s your looks.” she says giving yn and even cooler glare, pushing her self off the wall and closer to yn.

“you’re just-”

“jealous?” minji cuts yn, stepping closer if that was been possible, “why would I be jealous of a boy that knows nothing about you and only wants one thing, are they really right about you not being smart?”

yn stared at minji’s face for a good second, it was like she was getting lost in the girls closeness before gently pushing minji away from her, “fuck off.”

“I’ll fuck off when you stop entertaining those idiotic boys, I already have to deal with all your other flaws.”

“so me liking boys is idiotic?” yn said defensively causing minji to look at the girl confused.

“when did I ever say you liking boys is idiotic?”

yn tried to stutter out a response, before just turning away from minji and walking down the hallway, “just don’t talk to me for the rest of week!”

minji’s confused expression melted into an annoyed one, “that’s the best thing you’ve said all day!” she yells back.

she huffs watching yn walk to the set, as much as she loved to cuss the girl off in her head, she couldn’t help but think about how weird yn acted towards the end of their argument.

it’s probably nothing.

[annecoulmanross]

So it's been a while. But I couldn't let James Fitzjames Finding Day pass without some celebration—thank you Doug Stenton, Stephen Fratpietro, and Robert W. Park for giving us this wonderful and terrible knowledge. I've made an emotional playlist of all of us currently experiencing whatever emotion this is:

Selected lyrics for each song included below the cut!

Strange Ships | PHILDEL

Strange ships won’t let me sail out Passed by the ice and stone now

2. I, Carrion (Icarian) | Hozier

If the wind turns, if I hit a squall Allow the ground to find its brutal way to me

3. Howling | Wild Rivers

Howling out here for the morning light I can’t sing no more

4. The Yawning Grave | Lord Huron

I tried to warn you when you were a child I told you not to get lost in the wild I sent omens and all kinds of signs I taught you melodies, poems, and rhymes

5. Sax Rohmer #1 | The Mountain Goats

Ships loose from their grins, capsize and then they’re gone Sailors with no captains watch a while and then move on

6. Long Wave | Dessa

Starve the guard dog And see what hunger does It’s easy when we’re well fed To talk of love

7. Achilles Come Down | Gang of Youths

Throw yourself into the unknown, With pace and a fury defiant Clothe yourself in beauty untold, And see life as a means to a triumph

8. Eat You Alive | The Oh Hellos

I’ve seen the true face of the things you call life The song of the siren that holds your desire Death, she is cunning and clever as hell And she’ll eat you alive

9. My Ego Dies At The End | Jensen McRae

Leave my body and my ego early Kill it kind with a surgeon’s mercy Claim I put it out of its misery

10. Who We Are | Hozier

Darling, we sacrificed We gave our time to something undefined This phantom life sharpens like an image But it sharpens like a knife

11. Devourer | Aidoneus

Beams of light, show me how to feel Light the gloam, find my Achilles heel I will welcome my mortality—let me go

12. Sound the Bells | Dessa

Go lift your sails up For one last swell Go lift yourselves up To sound the bells

13. Your Bones | Of Monsters and Men

Said goodbye to you my friend As the fire spread All that’s left are your bones That will soon sink like stones

14. Wildflower and Barley | Hozier, Allison Russell

This year, I swear it will be buried in actions This year, I swear it will be buried in words Some close to the surface, some close to the casket I feel as useful as dirt, put my body to work

15. These Bones | Azrai, Momo O’brien

It’s a savage sea we’re made to roam Every tide can turn to haunt us But the ocean reaches past these ghosts And I will always sail for more

16. By Way Of Sorrow | Cry Cry Cry

You have come by way of sorrow You have come by way of tears You’ll reach your destiny Meant to find you all these years

17. Gracestone | PHILDEL

When I open my final door I’m gonna sail much wilder seas than your ships were built for I’m turning into dust across that cove You know, I have known enough to not feel owed

18. Glowing | The Oh Hellos

You’ll rise, like land, pulled up at the sound of some strange commandment A moon alight, reflecting fully And I guess it would feel like rebirth, out of some kind of dying To see yourself so glowing

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Camera Caught- Matt Sturniolo

Summary: you accidentally left some hickeys on matt’s neck and the fans catch it, start making edits, and matt “punishes” you

Warnings: SMUT, degradation, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (female receiving), P in V, Unprotected sex, praising, slight crying.

A/N: I LOVE YOU ALL ENJOYY

PSA: I GIVE NO RIGHTS TO COPY MY WORK OR USE MY WORK FOR “INSPIRATION”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Matt and I’s relationship has been very very private, we've been trying to keep it that way till we both collectively agreed to go public. Matt was down in the garage filming for a Friday video and I was endlessly scrolling on TikTok, I came across this edit of Matt, I didn't think much of it till i saw the comments.

Mattscupsupremacy: THE HICKEY?! WHO IS SHE?? MATTS A FREAKY GAL

Chrissypoohmylover: UHM MATTHEW?? what a freaky man.. she’s one lucky girl to be getting that fire dick

Nickismyqueen: WHY IS NO ONE POINTING OUT THE FACT HES NOT EVEN TRYING TO COVER IT UP??

Yamother6629: we lost another one girls… Funeral at my place at 6 pm tmr 😔💔

Thefourthtriplet5239: MATT SEEMED SO VANILLA.. who would ever guess that man is kinky?

“No no no” I say panicking out loud and immediately jumping out of bed and running through the house and busting the door open to the garage where Nick, Matt, and Chris are barging into the garage which sends the boys into an immediate panic

“Okay so you can edit this out of the video but it's an emergency,” I say out of breath.

“Girl go the fuck on, you said it’s an emergency, spill let’s go” Nick says snapping his fingers.

“Okay, patience, so I was scrolling through TikTok like normally waiting for you guys to finish filming and I scroll across this Matt edit,” I say trying to find the edit on my phone.

“Y/N how many times do I have to tell you to stop watching edits of me, I'm right here no need to fangirl over me,” Matt says with a sense of cockyness in his voice.

“No no hold on it gets better, so I scroll through the comments cause you know it's funny watching as the 12-year-olds talk about you being their ‘baby’-” start before Chris cut me off

“GET TO THE FUCKING POINT YAPPER,” Chris says throwing his hands in the air

“Says the one who goes on about putting a literal tit milk-drinking infant in the backseat of a car with no car seat. So let's not talk about her yapping” nick defends.

“ANYWAYS, Matt you forgot to cover your hickeys from the other night and everyone knows about it now, cause when you moved out of frame your hoodie must have come down, and there are edits and people calling you ‘vanilla’ whatever the hell that means, and like everyone is wondering who the girl is and I'm like panicking now,” I say with panic in my voice “I know you weren't ready to go public but everyone is like freaking the fuck out” I continue.

“Fuck, I thought the hoodie was a good cover” matt sighs “look its fine well figure it out after I'm done filming just go back inside and calm the hell down” he gives me a quick peck on my forehead and shutting the door of the car.

A couple of minutes later I got a text from matt, normally he does send me the occasional ‘i love you, almost done filming’ message but this one was a little different.

Matty B Rapz 💍

you’re in big trouble for getting us caught

i hope you ain’t tired cause you’re in for a long night

This wasn't out of the normal for Matt to be rough with me but over text? This is new, but I love it. I could feel myself getting soaked at all the possible ways Matt could fuck me, all the positions, thinking of all the ways in which he could make me cum.

After an hour and a half of endless scrolling through TikTok, I can hear the footsteps of Matt through the hallway.

“Hi baby, how was filming?” I say as he walks in the door immediately shutting it and locking it.

“Don't ‘baby’ me, strip,” he says harshly as his eyes darken with lust.

A smirk appeared on my lips, and moved off the bed walking towards him as I placed my phone down on the bedside table and slowly and teasingly removed my pants and shirt leaving me in my light pink lingerie set that I knew drove him insane, the way it hugged my curves, pushed my Brests up with a small delicate flower in the middle, and my underwear that sat and hung onto my hips with another small flower in the middle of it.

“So fucking sexy,” Matt says under his breath causing a light shade of pink to appear on my cheeks.

Matt wraps his arms around my torso and unclips my bra letting my breasts fall and the straps of my bra fall off my arms. He lightly pushes me back so I'm sitting on our shared bed as he places a deep and passionate kiss on my lips.

I yearn for more of his lips but he pulls away from me and starts trailing light kisses down my jaw and to my neck and sucking harshly on my neck so we have matching marks on my neck and soft moans escaping my lips.

“Since you had to go and get us caught,” he starts before sucking harsher in my neck in a pattern this time. “Everyone's gonna know who you belong to now” he pulls away walking back a couple of steps to admire the marks he left on my neck.

‘M’

His initial was spelled out on my neck.

“And you're not gonna cover that up. Got it?” he spits walking towards me and wrapping his hand around my neck.

“Yes, Matt” I whisper out

“Good fucking girl” he removes his hand from my neck and pushes me down so my back is now on the bed flat.

He lowers his body down, basically on his knees, and he leaves kisses down my stomach before kissing over my clothed pussy and a soft whimper comes out of my lips.

Using his teeth he guides my underwear off my legs and throws them on the floor with a smirk plastered on his face.

His face between my legs was always a sight for sore eyes, never failed to turn me on the way his blue eyes always stared at me through his eyelashes. He places small kisses around my thighs eventually making his way down to my dripping pussy and placing kisses everywhere around it but where I need him the most.

“Matt, please” I plead.

“What are you begging for? Use that filthy mouth of yours and tell me what you want” he says harshly.

“I need your mouth, please” i whine.

He smirks and uses his tongue to move up and down my folds collecting my juices he lets out a groan as the taste of my pussy touches his tongue. His lips attach to my clit sucking harshly on it.

“FUCK MATT” My back arches and my eyes roll back basically seeing my brain.

His tongue explores every inch of me as he keeps a steady gaze on me and how my body reacts to his mouth. His fingers trail into my begging hole that's clenched around the air begging to be fulfilled curling his slim fingers upward reaching a spot I could never reach by myself.

“MATT” I scream out as My thighs close his head in.

“Legs stay open” he mutters through my pussy.

His fingers now moving at a pace that's driving me absolutely insane, his muted moans against my pussy is only turning me on more.

“close” i breathe out trying not to strain my voice.

“hold it,” he says muttering against me as his nose flicks my clit digging his face deeper into my pussy. He was almost moaning as much as I was, typically he didn't even care if he cums, he gets off at watching me come unglued from his mouth or fingers.

“Please” I repeat pleading with matt.

“No, you're gonna hold it and you're gonna show me how much of a good girl you can be” he lifts his head continuing his pace with his fingers.

His gaze never left me, the way my back arched off the bed and my eyes rolled back just at his fingers was always so amusing to him.

“You always look so beautiful wrapped around my fingers,” he says smirking down at me and taking his lower lip between his teeth as he continues to arch his fingers inside me.

“PL-PLEA- CUM” i mutter unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Go ahead baby, let it all out” he coos in my ear in a low raspy voice.

The knot in my stomach snaps, and my orgasm hits me like a bus, my legs shake as my cum drips down into his fingers. he removes his fingers licking off my cum from them.

“Face down ass up, I ain't done with you” he says sternly.

I slowly nod turning around and holding myself up by my elbows taunting my ass around in the air. Matt smirks to himself removes his hoodie, and quickly removes his boxers and pants throwing all his clothes somewhere in the room.

I feel the bed dip down from the weight of his knees behind me. He reaches his arm around to my mouth places his hand below my mouth.

“Spit” he says harshly.

I obey spitting in his hand as he uses my spit to rub around the tip of his cock moving his hand up and down to coat his cock.

Matt aligns himself with my entrance and immediately bottoms out letting a loud groan escape his lips as my hips jerk backward and a loud whine leaks from my lips.

“You think you're so fucking innocent huh? Leaving those fucking hickeys on my neck” he spits thrusting harshly into me gripping onto my hair and pushing my head far into the mattress.

“I-im SO-SORRY” I scream into the mattress.

“Oh, you're sorry? If you were sorry you wouldn't be creaming all over my fucking. dick.” he says thirsting harder to annunciate his last two words as his head hangs low to look down at the white rim that's formed around the base of his cock.

“FUCKK” I whine out with tears starting to form in my eyes from the overstimulation. “CANT- CANT-TAKE” I muffle out as his hand pushes my head farther in the bed.

“You wanted this” he grunts “You take it” his hand travels down my body and starts to toy with my sensitive clit.

“OH BABY-” i scream out as my cervix begins to twitch around his cock signaling how close I was.

“Oh you think you're gonna cum soon?” he taunts rubbing faster on my clit as his thrusts begin getting sloppier.

“Pl-pl-please” I whisper yell to him.

“You're so fucking pathetic” he groans out using both hands and pressing my waist down the bed and rolling his hips into me getting deeper and kissing my cervix with his cock.

My legs began to shake and tremble “CLOSE” i choke out. his grip on my waist loosens up as he leans down and kisses my back.

“let it go, baby, let it all out” With that, the knot in my stomach breaks and I squirt all over the bed leaving a wet mess beneath me. “God damn baby you're so fucking sexy” he leaves small kisses on my neck as his thrusts got even sloppier.

“Oh fuck” he buries his head in my neck and groans as his cum begins to shoot out of him filling my hole of his cum.

He softly pulls out of me rolling me over now laying on my back and gives me a soft peck on the lips.

“Let me clean you up, yeah?” he smiles down at me and I shoot him a small smile back.

He throws on the same pair of sweatpants from earlier and walks softly and carefully to the bathroom wetting a small rag and bringing it back into the room.

“You did amazing, Y/N” he smiles up at me as he carefully runs the warm wash rag down my legs and anywhere else that was covered in cum.

“I am sorry about getting us caught, I know that we didn't want to go public just yet” I softly whisper as he makes his way next to me bringing me into his arms and placing a kiss down on my head.

“Hey, don't worry about it. We'll figure it out in the morning. But for now, just get some sleep," he says, running his fingers through my hair and occasionally kissing my head. We eventually drifted asleep, intertwined with each other.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N PT 2 HI LOVES!! IDK how to feel ab this one but i hope you guys enjoyed it! I hope you're doing amazing!! And have an amazing day/night/evening!!

Xoxo

Gabs 💋

[bitchimasnake-sss]

one last time ft. vinsmoke sanji!

a/n: continuation of my time travel series as asked by anon!! sanji, lost you when you were both 27. now, three years later, aged 30, the cook travels back in time and sees you again. *cue angst* not proofread, im so sorry for mistakes!

warnings: none!! just my crappy attempts of writing angst tbh

"it makes no sense" nami mumbled, peering down intensely at the old cook as if examining her personal lab rat. the alleged thirty year old had materialized in the main room of the going merry through thin air; and nami had almost knocked him out with her staff.

"nami-swan let me-" the man tried to speak but the red-head cut him off, "you ate a devil fruit and you traveled back in time?"

"you're so gorgeous even when you boss me around-""

"sanji." nami cocked an eyebrow.

sanji sighed lightly, trying to reason, "well, i mean i actually ate like just half a bite of it. i don't think this time travel thing is permanent. i'll be out of your gorgeous hair in just a minute"

"no, you being here isn't the issue." nami corrected herself, "i think im just surprised is all. the idea that there exists something like this is just-"

but someone barged into the room before she could finish.

"what the fuck?" the swordsman looked at sanji, taken aback by the sudden blondie appearance, "he looks awfully like the shit-cook."

"it's nice to see you too, moss-head"

"ah-" nami groaned at the swordsman appearance, "well, i guess i'll explain to everybody. out on deck, both of you"

"why are you so tall?" zoro gave the older cook a nasty look.

"zoro, out."

"why is he so tall-"

｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆

"so..." the younger, blonde man asked, "you're me but 30?"

the older man shrugged, "yes, pretty much."

"i cannot believe you committed to the bangs look for over a decade, sanji" you giggled, looking from the older version to the younger one.

"if you like it, then i can keep it for the rest of eternity, my love."

you laughed again, sending the cook an amused look, "sure, i like it."

while the younger cook was swooned at your words, sending you a love-struck gaze. the older was busy contemplating whether he wanted to hug you so hard till his ribs broke down and he disintegrated within you, or if he should keep his distance, saving himself all that hurt.

your hair was choppier and the strands moved gently in the wind, the tresses cashmere kisses against your sun-kissed skin. all the signs of aging were absent from your skin, all those signs of you and him together were gone, just like that. as if you and he hadn't existed at all.

there was no scar on your lips from the time you fell down in the dark while sleepy, no cuts on your arms and legs from battles long gone. every evidence of the life you and sanji had built together was gone, leaving a twenty-three year old you behind.

well, technically that life was yet to come. it would take you and his younger version another five months, 23 days and 6 hours till you both got together. atleast, if his calculations were correct.

it would take you another 9 years, 2 months and 4 days to leave him. he knew those calculations by heart.

and so, sanji held back the urge to ask you if you liked two sugars in your coffee right now too? and did you light up when the moon was out in all it's glory? did your favourite constellation stay the same as years passed you by? did you look the same when you kissed him awake? did-

instead, he said nothing and stared at you, transfixed.

when ussop shook the older cook awake, the blonde man gave the younger crew members a pained smile. and when luffy jumped up and down, asking whether the cook still cooked, sanji found himself laughing and offering to make a meal.

atleast, this way, he could resign himself to an old kitchen, boundless memories and endless suffering, away from your ghastly presence.

the door stood ajar and you slipped inside just as silently like you always did when you wanted to surprise him in the kitchen. he looked up from the chopping board, well-versed with every one of your silent exchanges.

"want some help?" you offered, walking over leisurely and standing opposite to the man on the kitchen island.

the man looked down, focusing on not cutting his fingers up, "uh- no, thanks."

"damn, did you change?"

"hm?"

"where's the added "my love", "mon cheri" or "darling" at the end?" you cocked up an eyebrow, giving him a confused look, "don't tell me you lost those with time, that'll be a real shame."

sanji looked up, dumbstruck at you.

ofcourse he didn't. how could he? how could he when you were all that and more to him. under breathy whispers, loud declarations of love and silent hums in the dark of the night, you were every stringed syllable in every language to him.

he must have been silent for too long cause you shook your palm in front of him, paranoia sewn into your skin, "i mean it's okay if you lost it. like, it's not that big of a deal-"

and sanji laughed.

"excuse me? it's not nice to laugh at a lady."

"you looked so adorable like that." he looked down at the chopped vegetables, hands skillfully adding the veggies to the heated pan. then he looked up through his eyebrows, skillfully avoiding your gaze fully, "you're quite cute, love."

"uh-" your ears went red and you looked away, "thanks? y-you too."

"how have you been, yn?" he looked back at the food, his voice was tender. every hitch of the breath was audible against the backdrop of distant laughs from the crew.

"oh?" you replied shocked. then you smiled, "good. i'm good."

"good?" he repeated, ever so slowly as if turning the word on the tip of his tongue to remember the way you said it.

"yeah, i've been good, sanji."

"i'm glad." he pursed his lips, turning his back to you under the lie of fetching bowls from the cabinet.

"what are you cooking?" you asked, leaning over and peering at the vessel on the stove.

even without turning, he said, "you'd lose balance, careful now."

you marveled at the simmering dish, looking at his back and smiling real big, "you're cooking hand-pulled noodles with broth?! i think its my new favourite dish! i tasted it like a few days ago and i've been dying to eat it againn"

sanji smiled, still turned away from you, "is that so?"

as much as sanji prided himself at his ability to identify you from lightyears apart, at his ability to hear you in the noisiest room, he must have not been paying attention.

because you had sneaked up behind him and pressed yourself against his back, giving him a hug. you smiled gummy against his back muscles, "thankyou! thankyou! thankyouuu!!"

sanji froze under your casual touch. after a second, mindlessly, he lay his bigger hands on top of yours, relishing in the way you felt under him. he closed his eyes, trying to etch the moment in his memories. then he smiled again, promising against the thin air, "i will make you this as many times as you ask me."

"really?" you beamed again, letting go and standing beside him, "promise me?"

"i promise you." he gave you curt nod, melting under every one of your happy dance moves.

"now i would bother you for the rest of our lives." you stuck out your tongue at the blonde man.

"i would rather not be bothered by anyone but you, my love."

"aww-"

"hey geezer." the younger cook stood at the door, eyeing the negligible distance between you and the older man, "get away from yn-chan, you fucking pervert."

"rich coming from you, mr. nosebleed" the older man gave the younger a dirty look.

"HEY THATS NOT MY FAULT"

"SAAAANJI" luffy whined from outside, "ARE YOU DONEEE? WE'RE STARVINGGGG-"

vinsmoke sanji, aged thirty, yelled back "YEAH LEARN TO WAIT SOME MORE."

"YOU'RE SO MEAN SANJI! I MEAN- OLDER SANJI? I MEAN SANJI??- alee? I MEAN THE COOK OF MY SHIP?? NO, THE COOK OF MY FUTURE SHIP-"

"JUST SHUT UP LUFFY." the two blondes yelled in unison and you laughed one last time, lighting up the kitchen on fire.

oh wait, no. that is just the smoke due to the burning veggies in the pan.

well, fuck.

atleast you were laughing. and sanji would have killed entire nations to see that sight again, so, what were a few vegetables for the sacrifice?

[talesofesther]

what once was mine | ch 7

Loki x Reader

Series Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.

A/N: I apologize in advance lol.

Masterlist | Read ch 6 here

Your feet buried in the sand, just inches from the gentle waves crashing to shore. You could smell the salt in the air, feel it on your skin as the wind carried droplets of water until it reached you. The sun kissed the horizon of the ocean beside you, painting the waves in streaks golden.

This was possibly your favorite thing about New Asgard, the ocean.

Or, second favorite, you thought, as you squeezed the hand holding your own.

"And Thor wouldn't listen to me, of course," Loki continued the story, his feet burying in the sand just as yours did. One of his hands interlocked with yours, the other holding his shoes. "Not until the whole tent came crashing down on him."

You giggled, the soft wind carried your laughter and messed up your hair, "Thor never was the brightest at learning our 'contraptions', as he would call them."

"No, I guess not," Loki mused, a smile of his own lingering on his lips.

You looked up at him then, watching as the fading sunlight reflected against his bright eyes and shaped the curves of his smile. You'd never tire of the sight, of him by your side.

"You should come with us next time," Loki suggested, apparently just as lost in you as you were in him.

"Camping?" You raised a brow.

Loki nodded, stopping in his tracks. He dropped his shoes to the sand without a second thought, so he could take hold of both your hands. "You'd make it better."

His voice, however, began to sound far away. You frowned, looking around as the golden sunlight seeped away, making room for a grey and stormy sky. The wind picked up speed, cutting into your skin like needles. The sea, once calm and serene, now raged and thundered against the shoreline.

"You always do." Suddenly, Loki's voice was nothing but an echo.

You didn't have time to hold him tighter before his hands were snatched away from yours.

Stumbling forward, you tried running after him, but the sand began to swallow your feet. Panic settled into your chest and got your heart racing.

You looked up, but you shouldn't have.

His eyes were bloodshot, his feet held off the ground as he struggled against the bruising grip on his neck. When Loki looked into your eyes, tears were running down both your cheeks. Blood trailed down his mouth as he choked for a breath. "Run," it was a plea, so quiet and weak past his lips.

The last thing you heard was a sickening crack.

You woke up with a scream lingering on your lips, sitting up on your bed and already clawing at your chest for the air that you desperately needed yet couldn't get a hold of. You didn't know if you were sobbing or coughing, perhaps a bit of both.

The tears were non-stop, dripping down your chin and dampening the collar of your pajama shirt. You threw the covers away from your body, feeling trapped on your skin. Burying your head on your trembling hands, you did your best to try and catch your breath.

It had been a while since you've had a nightmare this haunting.

─── ·❆· ───

You felt numb. The day began and you couldn't feel anything besides the emptiness in your chest. Foolishly, you had thought you'd finally outgrew the bad memories, the grief. You wondered if you ever would.

As you walked through the hallways of the TVA, you thought back to yesterday; to the rain, the northern lights, and him. He who had those same dark curls, those same bright eyes, and alabaster skin that you saw in your dreams and nightmares. Each day it became harder and harder to believe the lie you insisted on telling yourself.

As if on cue, you heard the stomping of someone running to catch up with you.

"Good morning," Loki greeted, just a tad out of breath as he fell into step beside you.

You closed your eyes for a moment after hearing his voice. Gulping down the lump in your throat, you nodded without looking at him. "Morning."

Loki noticed, he felt the shift in the mood, heard it in your tone. You know he did, because he hesitated. "Um-" He tried to start; you could perfectly picture his eyes being unable to find a place to focus even if you weren't looking.

"I've been thinking," he tried again, and you could hear the tentative smile on his words, "For the next time you manage to borrow Mobius' tempad, I- I have a place I would like to show you, if you'd like."

There were tears brimming in your eyes. You weren't sure why. Maybe because this was such a Loki way for him to try and ask you out. Maybe because you could feel your heart melting for him as it found its home again after being in the cold for so long, and that terrified you.

"Yeah…" You cursed under your breath when your voice came out broken and strained. You cleared your throat. "I don't know when he'll let me borrow it again, so," you shrugged, quickening your steps, "I guess we'll see."

Loki fell behind just for the time it took for him to mull over your words. It didn't take much effort for him to match your pace again. "Yes, of course."

The sadness dripping from his voice made your heart clench. You didn't want to hurt him. But you didn't want to hurt yourself either.

Finally reaching your desk in your secluded nook of the library, you immediately busied yourself with threading over the fresh stack of documents resting on top of it. Pointedly avoiding Loki's concerned look.

"I can help you with those," Loki suggested, already reaching for a spare chair.

"You really don't have to," You tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, turning on your table lamp.

"I want to," he told you with that softness reserved for you only. "We can finish it twice as fast and maybe stop for tea-"

"Loki, stop!" You suddenly snapped, finally turning to look at him. "Can you just leave me alone for one goddamn second?" You hadn't meant for your voice to come out as harsh as it did.

Loki lowered his head so you weren't able to see the pang of hurt in his eyes. His hand went limp as he slowly let go of the chair. Still, he took a step closer to you and asked; "Are you alright? Did something happen?"

Of course he would be able to tell. Of course he'd put your pain above his own.

You surrendered the facade with a sigh, and a single tear rolled down your cheek. "I keep seeing…" It was difficult to think of it, let alone say it. You closed your eyes. "The day I lost him, I- I keep seeing it over and over. Even after all this time."

You had gotten better, for a while, keeping busy in the TVA had somewhat helped. But you knew you only buried the feeling, never dealt with it. And then Loki—this Loki, the one who would be yours—found his way to you, and everything crumbled again. Those bright eyes of his were still the same you've always known, after all; and between the memories you had together that only you had lived, and the way his soul tangled with yours as if they never parted, you didn't know what to feel.

Your chin wobbled and a sob fell past your lips. "And I just want it to stop hurting… I just him back."

Seeing you like this, it hurt. Loki took half a step closer to you, his glassy eyes gauging every twitch of your muscles. If you told him to leave, he would, even if it's the last thing he wanted. Your pain pierced his soul like an arrow, tearing and making it bleed. More than anything, he found himself only wanting you to be okay.

No names were needed. Loki knew, just from the way you were adamantly refusing to look at him; he knew you were talking about… him.

Carefully, testing tentative waters, Loki reached for one of your hands. He held his breath when you tensed as his skin touched yours. His fingers closed gingerly around your wrist and he pulled your hand up with a gentleness he didn't know he was capable of.

You let him. You weren't sure why, but you did.

Loki brought your hand to rest above his chest, flat against his beating heart, and held it there, with his own hand still grasping yours tightly. He hesitated. He was afraid, he realized. Afraid of losing you.

Only when Loki opened his lips to speak, did he taste his own tears that had fallen. "I'm here." It was nothing but a breath. "I promise. I'm here." He tried, it was all he could give you; himself.

You clutched the fabric of his shirt, fingers shaking. You leaned your forehead against his shoulder as another sob escaped you. As the waves pulled you under.

In a place out of time, time stood still. For a precious second, only you and him existed.

You looked up after what felt like an eternity, your lips hovering as you struggled to hold his gaze. "But you're not him." The half smile that stretched the tear tracks on your cheeks held nothing but sorrow.

As if ripping apart a piece of his soul, Loki reluctantly let go of your hand. "What is it you have against me?" He whispered, pleaded.

You'd never seen him this vulnerable. His ocean eyes glimmered under the dim artificial lights of the library, eyebrows pulled softly together in what looked more like loss than confusion.

"And what is it you have with me?" You found yourself whispering back, just as desperate. "For you, we never met." Your voice broke and then dripped with frustration, "You have nothing to lose. So what is it that you want from me?"

It was selfish to put the blame on him, just because he brought back the same warmth you've been missing for so long. But you were hurting, and broken things tend to have sharp edges.

Loki's lips hovered open and he shifted his gaze down, almost as if ashamed. He held the silence for a beat longer. "I guess I just…" He stopped, and forced himself to look into your eyes. "I saw how much you loved your Loki… I think I was jealous, and I was selfish, for wanting the same thing he was lucky enough to have." His smile was that of someone who knew when he'd lost. "You."

All emotion drained from your face. It felt like a bucket of icy water being dropped on top of you.

Had Loki actually fallen in love with you?

For a moment you wondered if, in every reality and every lifetime, you were destined to fall for each other. As the universe's own twisted version of soulmates.

You would've laughed at such a sweet thought, if it hadn't just made your heartbeat skyrocket. Because deep down, you knew you'd fallen for him as well. Again. As you always knew you would.

In every lifetime. As you promised you would.

And it terrified you, because what if you were destined to fall, yet also destined to lose?

"I'm sorry," you breathed, tasting the salt of your tears on your lips. You took staggered steps away from Loki. "I'm sorry, I- I can't."

I'm sorry, I don't know if I can pick myself back up if I ever lose you again. So I'd rather not have you at all.

"Please, I-" Loki started, yet he didn't know what he was pleading for.

But you shook your head vehemently. "I need," your voice stumbled, "I'm sorry- I just need a moment alone."

You turned around then, walking away and taking Loki's heart with you. His eyes refused to watch you leave again, luckily he had tears to blur the memory.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 8 here

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[theskit]

Stickers AU

Anyone linking here from the previous posts or wanting to use the links on this post to go back/forward to the other parts and not wanting to spoil the surprise stickers, after using the link, click on my blog name to go to the actual post, as direct linking takes away the readmore cut. I'll take this out and fix it if I can find out how. Sorry!

Part 6

《Prev Next》

Danny floated along as he caught his breath. Okay, so jump scaring the Red Hood *might* not have been the best plan he'd ever come up with, but man, was it funny!

It was getting kind of late, though. He should probably start making his way back to the hotel. Any more vigilante pranks would have to wait for another time. Good thing the conference was on a long weekend. He had one more night to try his luck before they left Monday afternoon for the drive back to Amity.

Pulling up the map on his phone, Danny started making his way back. Just over halfway there, he jolted to a stop, catching sight of a rippling back shadow. Batman's distinctive silhouette was marked briefly against a building wall before being almost lost again in the perpetual dimness of the city rooftops at night.

Well, well, well, looks like he might have the chance to bag all the bats and birds of Gotham in one night, leaving tomorrow to hunt down in Bludhaven for Nightwing.

Eeeeexcellent. Danny pulled himself straight in mid-air, steepling his fingers and druming them together in classic Evil Villian style, grinning in a manner that would have shown entirely too many teeth had he been visible.

Now, this would require *true* stealth if he wanted to both get a sticker onto Batman's utility belt, as well as help himself to a batarang or two. Because Ellie was right, there would be no greater souvenir from his time in Gotham than a batarang from *the* Batman himself.

Choosing a sticker and prepping it, Danny sidled up to where Batman was staring down at a building that was probably not as vacant as it looked if it called for that much concentration. All the better for him if Batman was distracted though.

Moving by inches, carefully controlling his breathing so as not to make a sound, Danny made it to Batman's side. Batman was... probably? right handed, most people were, so he was gunna make an educated guess that the sharp throwing objects would be on the left side of the belt.

Getting ready to make the grab and stick, Danny nearly jumped out of his skin as Batman moved his arm and draped his cape over the space where Danny was standing intangibly right next to him, in a gesture that seemed more ingrained habit than conscious thought.

O-KAY! Time to go before Batman had a chance to recognize that there was no one where he very obviously expected someone to be. Robin, maybe?

Thoughts to think another time! Moving with all the speed and precision he could muster while his heart was still attempting to leave the city without him, Danny swiped one hand through a series of belt pouches while the other oh-so-gently tapped a sticker to the front buckle.

Not even stopping to see what it was he'd swiped, Danny made a quick exit, stage left, do not pass go, do not collect $200.

Batman was jolted out of his concentration when he felt a nudge at his belt as his cape settled against his side once more. Whirling to the left, he scanned the rooftop but saw no one.

Which was entirely unexpected as his instincts were *sure* a small presence had been snug up to his side, like a young Dick or Tim when they got tired or a bit overwhelmed while on patrol and wanted to hide in his cape.

But neither Dick nor Tim, or even Damian (though Damian had never actually done so) was small or young enough to have done that in *years*.

A quick inspection found his belt pouches missing a handful of batarangs, some candy he kept on hand to help soothe distressed children, and the extra just-in-case comm unit. As well as the addition of a glowing sticker, much like the one currently decorating the batmobile, somehow placed on the buckle despite him neither seeing or hearing anything.

@mygood-bitch99 @stargazer-luna @easily-broken-by-emotion @dolfay @britcision @cyber-geist @is-this-even-relatable @alcorbearson @fisticuffsatapplebees @thegatorsgoose @my-mom-calls-me-rat @some-rotten-nest @crystalqueertea @meira-3919 @wandererofthestars @seraphinedemort

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt.6

TW: torture, mention of rape

prev part. first part

"I guess we need to talk, Johnny." You looked at him, and the incredible feeling of guilt consumed your stomach. How could you believe a random girl over Johnny?

"Yeah, I guess we need to hen." he said while rubbing the stubbles on his chin. The last week was the most chaotic in his life. He thought he had lost you for good, and when Kyle told him that crazy whore was in your apartment, it was over. That was a line he thought she wouldn't cross. You were a civilian, an innocent civilian who got into this shit because of him. 

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, hen." 

Both of you apologized at the same time, getting a confused look out of each other. "What're you sorry for, Bonnie?"

"I believed her. I believed that you would cheat on me."

"I didn't explain it, did I?"

„No," he told the truth. He didn't deny anything, but you maybe still should have asked yourself if it was the truth. The guilt ate you alive.

"I'm sorry for getting that crazy bitch in your life; did she hurt you?" He took your hand in his, examining if any new bruise or scar was there. 

"Physically no"

"Hen" 

"I love you, Johnny, you know."

"Of course I know; I love you too."

"Do you want to tell me what really happened?"

He nodded and started to explain how he woke up and didn't know what happened, how he felt guilty and hated himself, how John took the fall for everything, how he realized that she raped him, how she accused him of raping her, and how she made him believe no one would ever believe him. How he wanted to tell you everything, and then that slag turned everything around, convincing him that no one would believe him, and finally how Simon believed him and how he opened up. Your heart broke into a million pieces hearing what she did to your poor Johnny.

“You didn't deserve that love.“

„I know I still feel dirty, you know." You knew the feeling all too well, but you didn't know right now what you could do to make it better, so you just took him in your arms, caressing the soft edges of his Mohawk. „You're not dirty, Johnny; her action doesn’t define you." You held Johnny the whole time while he was crying in your arms. ——————————————————————————   This wasn’t the first time, neither for John nor Ghost, but it was never this personal. They had never had as much fun as this time. Ghost already pulled her on a chair, tying her wrists and legs, not giving a fuck about her pleas that it was too tight and hurting her; they were a long time over having any pity for her. 

„We can make it quick or painful, your choice," John spoke, trying to appear as the good cop in this interrogation. His heart wanted to rip her apart in the most inhuman way possible, but first, he needed some information.

„I don't want to die, please. I only meant good." Simon didn't hesitate to slap her right across the face.

„Don't lie.“

„I didn't lie; you would be better off without her.“

„Bad mistake, Ghost doesn’t like when someone talks badly about our girl,“ John huffed, taking a drag on his cigar while sitting on a chair.

„What do you think, boss, should I cut a finger off or break her arm?“ She was panting heavily, the sweat already dripping down her neckline, while she only stared in horror at them. She begged and pleaded, but how many of her victims did it too? How many were even able to remember a thing?

„No, no Ghost we play nice just like her,“ John said with a grin, pulling out three pills from his pocket. Thankfully, the nurses on base didn't have a good opinion of the medic.

Ghost took the pills, putting them in front of her eyes. "Choose. "

„What are these?“ She knew, but her mind didn't want to comprehend what they wanted from her.

„I think the same one you used on me, the other is used for assisted death, and the third one I forgot something with internal bleeding.“ 

„They look the same.“ 

„Choose or I will make you choose." Before the medic argued, Ghost already had all three pills in his hand, pushing them into her mouth.

„I choose this one,“ her eyes watering as she pointed to the left pill. If she were, by any chance, smarter, she would have known she wouldn’t come out alive.

With trembling fingers, she pushed it down her throat. As she felt the numbness starting in her fingers, she couldn’t stop smiling. She made the right choice. 

„They were all the same,“ John replied unapologetically. He didn't want to do this too messy; he only wanted the needed information and then would break her neck; he deserved the right after all. 

„You bastard“ This earned another punch from Simon.

"Let's see how you like being paralyzed. Did you enjoy seeing your victims squirm in fear?“

„Please don't“

„Oh, afraid I'll rape you.“

„Don't worry, Ghost wouldn’t even rape you out of spite.“

„You're so pathetic. Do you need to drug people to get a lay? I bet you're already wet thinking about me touching you. Will only touch my girl.“

„We need to know with how many people you did that stunt?“

„Only you and Johnny, I swear.“

„You swear?“ John stood up, took his cigar, and flicked it close between her thighs, seeing how the heat burned her thighs closer to her core. “It isn't fun to be so helpless? Now tell me the truth.“

She cried and still denied the truth of the sick games she pulled over all these years: „Guess you didn't want the nice way, my turn cap." Ghost grumbled pulling out his favorite knife, a beautiful gift from you. He cherished dearly and he thought you should have had the right to partake in her downfall after all.

The burn of the cigar was long forgotten when Simon slowly craved letter after letter in her skin, taking slow movements as if he were performing in a calligraphy contest. Letter for letter, the red blood dried down on Simon's pale skin, the screams were like music in his ears. He finally had what he wanted: Revenge. He dreamt of it when he saw his father abusing his mother when he met Roba when he heard your past story, and now he finally got it. He could finally protect his loved ones.

„Beautiful, isn’t it, Cap?“

"You could improve your handwriting the letters are slacking a bit.“ 

„You're right, Captain, need to write a few rows more." After the fifth letter, she finally confessed.

„How many“

„I have a list on my phone,“ she cried while Ghost pulled out the phone, finding the list with her guidance. Ghost saw a lot of cruel things in his life, but the visuals on the list made him almost puke: several videos of abused unconscious men and women, their names, and the date all written under them—disgusting. When he saw the picture of Johnny, it was enough for him, and he snapped her neck.

„I'm sorry, Captain.“

„I would have done it if you weren’t faster.“

„What will we do about this?“

„The right thing.“

———————————————————————————— 1 year later

Johnny found peace after consulting a therapist for a year straight, with the support of his beautiful girlfriend and boyfriends. John and Ghost took the list and spoke with all the remaining victims, taking her life insurance money and splitting it amongst the victims. It was nothing that could redeem the situation. Still, they did everything so every one of her victims could afford and participate in the needed therapy, even spreading awareness of male SA survivors in the military with Laswell's help. Your relationship surprisingly grew stronger after the incident, and the bond and trust were only tighter. So here, where you cuddled in a big cuddle pile with your men and Winston, you were finally at peace again.

Taglist: @cod-z , @kaoyamamegami, @postmortem-angel, @jackrabbitem , @sseleniaa , @thigh-o-saur , @littlechomper @ab12305 @darkangel4121

@thychuvaluswife @cutiecusp @blackhawkfanatic @spicyspicyliving @octopiys

A/N: wrote this half asleep so sorry for spelling and grammar mistakes Im not the best at writing torture Im more of an angst girly hope you still enjoyed it.

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

A/N 2: Don't read further if you don't want to know anything about the author

So sorry that I posted this Chapter 1 month after the last, my last month was kinda weird. Had a theoretical final exam(passed with an A and an B) , lots of interviews- but hey I got one thing (not my dream thingy but still good), had lots of stress at work and unregular plans like one day night the next early :( So it took a lot of motivation to finally finish this and get back into writing regularly.

[diorcities]

dumb blond

pairing: park jisung x afab!reader.

genre: smut.

content: jisung's a pervert, oral sex, unprotected sex (jisung pulls out), choking, hair pulling, manhandling, riding, slight cum play.

wc: 1,5k (didn't count this time)

after inviting your boyfriend to your dorm room to keep you company while you were studying, you realized that maybe it wasn't the best decision you've ever made. you had asked him to help memorize the elements of the periodic table, but one thing led to another, and after getting bored, your boyfriend decided to change the rules of the game.

"it could be anything," he says simply. explaining the ways of his guessing game, where you'll get whatever you want if you get the answer right. so he waits, running his fingers over the pages, even when he already knows the answer. how he likes it when you're vocal. "what if i get it wrong?" you want to know. he shrugs. "then i get something."

he leans back against the headboard, making room between his legs for you. facing him, his gaze runs over the notebook.

"bromo."

shit.

he watches you lose your mind, hacking away in bits and pieces in search of the answer. "33?". he clicks his tongue. "too bad, gorgeous," he pities you, "now, strip."

your eyes widen at his words. almost speechless, but thinking about it. your hands go to your shirt, starting to lift the fabric up to the top of your head until you're down to your bra. you catch him looking too much at the exposed area. "atomic mass?" he asks, clearing his throat.

"jisung," you groan, rolling your eyes. he laughs. "you know the rules."

even when you lost at convenience, and getting exactly what you wanted, there was still a desire to win; reluctantly, you pull off your pajama shorts. "let's go on..." he says, but you cut him off. "you forgot the symbol," you remind him. crawling toward him, you say, inches from his face, "gotcha. it's br."

he smiles, satisfied, before you pull him into a kiss, humming softly as you feel his velvety tongue lazily play with yours.

"carbon."

"c," you reply. "atomic number 6." "atomic mass." with each answer, jisung leaves lingering kisses on your lips, until it is impossible to answer. he leans over you, causing his glasses to slide down his septum and hit your forehead gently. "12,011," you add eventually.

"mercury."

"hg. take off your shirt." you don't know if he's doing it on purpose, putting the easiest elements on you so you can guess them. at this point, he's not even looking at the notebook to make sure you're right. it lies open on the bed, oblivious. "atomic number," he asks. in his eyes dances the flame of mischief and amusement. pupils dilate in his crescent eyes as he smiles when he sees that you don't know the answer. "lie down on the bed." you do as he asks, watching him hover over you.

"antimony."

"ji...," you wail. "you should know better. you've been studying since the afternoon," he suddenly excuses himself. "i don't know," you admit, giving up. a smirk of victory appears briefly on the boy's face before he leans over you. you close your eyes as you feel his warm breath impact your skin, which reacts to the act impulsively. his lips leave a trail of random kisses all over your naked body. "iodine," he asks now, and because your mind is completely blank, you cannot respond.

you hear jisung chuckle lightly, feeling his smile on your skin, before his hands travel to your back, which arches at his intentions, freeing your bra.

"boro." his fingers brush the lower area of your breasts, frolicking. your skin bristles at his fingers, desperate for him to finally touch you. in a lucid moment, the fog in your head from the carousel of emotions disperses. "b."

"tell me what you want," he pronounces. his voice has become thick and husky, his brown eyes consumed in their entirety by his black pupil. you take his hand between yours, curling your palm around his index and middle finger, bringing his hand right where you want it.

jisung holds your chest, contemplating your bristling skin, before beginning to trace patterns on the sensitive surface.

"aluminum." his movements stop, and it's complete torture. your mouth feels dry and you feel dazed for a few seconds. "shit... a?" you try. jisung purses his lips and slowly denies “al, atomic mass 26.981539." he moves closer to you, and you think he's going to kiss you, but his lips drop down and miss yours before you feel his wet mouth around your nipple. you let out a gasp, as your hands shoot up into his hair. his head makes light movements as his teeth gently bite your skin. his kisses move to the next, using his hand to caress your other breast as his mouth does wonders for your sanity.

"ji..." you whisper, feeling your body beg for his. his face pulls away from your chest and down, and down, and down. "hydrogen," he says, and you know he's letting you have it easy. when your mouth utters an answer you're no longer sure is right or wrong, you add, "take off your pants."

you see him turn away from you to do as you ask. your gaze sweeps over his slender figure, before stopping on the bulge that is marked on his underwear, threatening to rip the fabric of his pants. your body moves out of self-consciousness, pulling you closer to him. jisung holds still as you scatter kisses across his lower abdomen. your eyes seek his gaze, already contemplating you from above. his thumb caresses your cheek as you decide to release his length, which hits his stomach, erect.

shit, you never get tired of admiring it.

jisung's hands go to your hair. on his wrist lies your hair tie, which he uses to put your hair into a messy ponytail. your heart skip a beat when you remember the other times he did the same because he has a thing for your hair tied up when he's fucking you.

"put it in your mouth," he encourages you, "i know you can." and that's all he has to say, for you to wrap your mouth around his cock using your hand to make circles each time it goes in and out. you bob your head up and down, hearing the little husky sounds jisung makes, urging you to keep doing it. his length jolts slightly as you pull it out of your mouth, making jisung moan in disagreement. you don't have time to react as he hovers over you and pushes you onto the bed, pressing your back against the mattress.

you see him hold his member in his hand, while the other remains holding your thigh, to one side of his hip. you feel it press on your entrance, a current shakes your body. your eyes roll to the back of your head as he pushes into your hips slowly, his cock expanding you for him. your arousal allows it to enter easily, stopping momentarily, and you are already seeing stars. your legs wrap around his back, pulling him towards you. jisung buries himself deeper, and your body reacts by arching. mouth open letting out a choked moan. his hand goes to your neck, squeezing slightly. you hear him laugh. "i haven't even started and you're already like this." before gently thrusting into you. “do you want it all, gorgeous?” he asks, and you nod two, three, four times. you want to feel it all complete. you want all of him.

jisung's lunges make you see galaxies. he penetrates you again and again, with harsh and hungry movements. his grip keeps you firm under him, as he destroys you with every thrust of his hips. touching the sweet spot of your pussy, without ease. he grunts and breathes, squeezing the soft flesh of your thigh, holding it at an angle that gives him more access to your abused cunt. your mouth produces nonsense sounds, brainwashed. an electric current whipping through your senses, skin-deep, before he stops. his hands turn you around effortlessly. you blink dazedly and lethargic, feeling his teeth bite into your ass cheek before he aligns on you again. you smile blissfully as he grabs your hair and continues to pounce on you, pressing your hips into him, he pushes you down, placing you in the position he pleases. you support your weight with your hands, burying your head in the mattress as jisung burrows into your cervix.

his rhythmic thrusts change pace, fucking you with slow, hard strokes. his moans accompanying his movements. yours join. feeling faint from the exhilarating sensations, desperate, eager for more. you start to move your hips against his. the impact clouds your senses and sends spasms through your extremities. "do you want to ride it?" you nod awkwardly. you almost squirm as he pulls himself out of your heat, but you fall silent as he sits next to you, waiting. you climb up on your hindquarters as best you can, swinging one leg over his waist. jisung helps you balance on him. aligning his cock his with your entrance. he glided hastily, moaning in sync.

you kiss the soft skin of his shoulders and neck, while you feel his arms around your waist. the feeling of him completely inside you is so intense and overwhelming, that it causes you to tighten your legs around his hips instinctively. your walls contract and jisung jerks his head back, before you begin to rock your hips, eventually bobbing up and down.

jisung holds you while he looks at you from below, your body in a desirable and sensual swing. he swears his vision blurs when he watches you. your face contracts before the carousel of delight that you are sharing. observing him moan for you, closing his eyes because the feeling is so overwhelming, but opening them again because he doesn't want to lose an instant of you, drinking in your sight.

"shit… ji, 'mgonna c-cum." your nails dig into his skin. his mouth finds your jaw and neck, and he sucks gently, marking you as his. "fu-uck, me too." his confession only makes you move faster. your moan dies in his mouth as he kisses you, before leaning back to get a better view of your hips colliding with his. the act allows you to lean back, holding on to his legs, bouncing mercilessly on his dick. feeling your muscles tense more and more. feeling a tingle followed by your mind clouding over and your walls tightening by wrapping up his length.

you hear jisung growl, and it's all you need to release in shock waves. a current bathes your body as you reach your climax, and spasms attack you in waves as you don't stop moving your hips, stimulating the sensitive zone. you feel jisung tense under your weight, finally reaching his orgasm. you take out his member that squirms as he empties his seed on himself. you use your hand to stimulate him as he cum, hearing him hiss at the sensation. with slow, firm strokes, you milk his cock for him until the boy is a bundle of soft moans. his length falls limp on your pelvic crease. you lick the residue from your fingers and do the same with his cock tenderly, savoring the taste of him.

jisung invites you to lie on his chest, welcoming you warmly as you listen to the erratic beating of his heart, becoming calmer and calmer. "even though i love this plot development, i still have to study for my test," you mutter, "how am i supposed to say that the atomic mass of aluminum is 26.98?" you remember, getting up to take your notebook and take a look.

jisung laughs.

"981539," he recites, as your eyes sweep over the number. your mouth opens in awe because he got it right. you look at him with a vicious look. "do you want to play again?"

[ginnsbaker]

Bulletproof (6/10)

Part Summary: It's three months after the attack on the compound and you lost your invincibility against bullets.

Chapter word count: 2.6k+ | Tags: Light Angst, Still UST, Still gay

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Next Part | Series Masterlist

-

The sound of the doorbell at “Café Lumière” reverberates around the room, your heart reacting before your head can even register it. It's the softest of sounds, but it pulls you like a siren's song. Every fiber of your being is acutely aware of that door, with both trepidation and hope hinging on its every swing.

Steam curls up from the frothing milk, whispering past your fingertips as they work on a delicate latte art. Your focus is unwavering, yet as the door chimes again, your heart skips. You risk a glance, your hope suspended for that split second, only to crash back down when it's not her.

Louisa's eyes, which have been watching you mischievously for some time now, find yours. 

“Clock's ticking,” she teases, nodding toward the ornate clock hanging precariously on the wall. “Not 3pm yet.”

You feign confusion, but your playful smirk gives you away. “What are you going on about?”

She grins knowingly. “Your weekly muse isn't due for another... oh, ten minutes or so?”

An exaggerated sigh escapes your lips, the warm notes of roasted beans surrounding you like a comforting embrace. 

“I'm not waiting for her, you know,” you say, though your voice lacks conviction.

Louisa smirks and pats your shoulder, “Sure, sure. Just give it time. She's never missed a Thursday, has she?”

As you're about to come up with a clever retort, a sharp sting on your finger draws your attention. You wince, looking down to see a thin, red line forming across your finger. Tearing the receipt from the register to hand to the awaiting customer, you’re slightly taken aback at how much the cut bleeds.

“Everything alright?” the customer asks, noticing the blood.

"Yeah, just a small paper cut," you dismiss, trying to downplay it. Grabbing a napkin, you press it against the cut, soaking up the crimson liquid.

Louisa's sharp eyes don't miss a beat. "Careful there. Those can be nasty," she comments, retrieving the first-aid kit from under the counter.

Louisa holds out a bandage, but you shake your head, not wanting to make a fuss over something so minor. “Really, I'm good,” you assure her.

A few seconds later, you open the napkin to check the cut. To your surprise, the skin seems perfectly whole, as if it had never been broken in the first place. You flex your finger, the earlier sting now a distant memory. “See? I'm fine,” you declare, shrugging.

Louisa tilts her head, narrowing her eyes in astonishment. “That healed incredibly fast. You sure you're okay?”

You chuckle, deciding to make light of the situation. “What can I say? Maybe I have superpowers.”

A soft clearing of the throat interrupts the moment. The customer, who you hadn't realized was keenly observing the entire exchange, raises an eyebrow. “Can I get some napkins, please?”

Flustered, you quickly hand a bunch over. “Of course, sorry about that.”

Louisa grins at you mischievously as the customer leaves, “Superpowers, huh? That's a new one.”

The doorbell rings out, pulling your attention instantly. You lift your gaze, hope surging momentarily, only to see the same customer making her way out. The door gently shuts behind them, the anticipation that had built up inside you deflating.

Louisa, noticing the brief flicker of disappointment in your eyes, nudges you playfully. “Don't look so down,” she says, her tone light and teasing. “She’ll be here. You know how punctual she is. Maybe she's just running a bit late today.”

You give a half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah, maybe.”

“I wonder though why she never gives her name,” Louisa muses.

“Hm?”

“You know, for the cup,” she clarifies.

You shrug. “Some people love their privacy, I guess.”

Hours seem to stretch endlessly, the weight of the clock's hands growing heavier with each passing minute. The crowd in the café starts to thin as evening nears. Although the store is open 24 hours a day, seven days a week, your shift only lasts until 8. And in the midst of the dwindling crowd, one spot remains unclaimed—the corner seat by the window, the one she always chooses. 

She is the sole reason you continue working here despite your persistent restlessness. Pouring coffee for hundreds of customers daily never truly satisfies you, even when some tip generously. There's an inexplicable nagging feeling, suggesting this isn't where you belong or what you should be doing.

Yet, what anchors you between the register and the espresso machine is the girl who comes in every Thursday, late in the afternoon, always punctually, sometimes a few minutes early. It's disconcerting and exhilarating, this sudden shift of your universe tilting on its axis. You've never been one to believe in love at first sight or fated connections, but there’s something in the way she holds herself, something in her gaze that tugs at strings you didn’t even know existed.

But even if you can write the sweetest song or the most evocative poem about every titillating thing about her, it’s just a crush.

A crush that will lead to nothing. Not because you've attempted to ask her out or because she's already spoken for.

It's because your very existence is shrouded in uncertainty.

The past few months have been a jumble of rehab appointments, therapy sessions, and sleepless nights trying to piece together fragments of memories that always seem just out of reach. Surviving that near-fatal crash was a miracle in itself, but the loss of your past—it took away a part of who you were. Or who you're supposed to be.

Every day, you grapple with an identity you don’t recognize, yearning for some semblance of the person you once were. A glance at the reflection in the coffee machine shows a face still unfamiliar. Eyes that hold stories you can’t read, a curve of a smile that feels out of place. When people share anecdotes from their past or talk about family and childhood, all you can offer is a nod, a practiced smile, and a tightness in your chest that never truly fades.

And how could you possibly burden her with this emptiness?

The small apartment you return to every evening, given by a private charity, is filled with borrowed things and a life that doesn't truly feel like yours. They said you had no family, no one waiting or weeping for your recovery. Your recovery was overseen by faceless benefactors who, for some reason, deemed you worthy of a second chance. Yet, every evening as you unlock your door, you wonder if you truly deserved it.

The beautiful woman who steps into the coffee shop every Thursday, with her air of confidence and those captivating eyes, deserves more than what you currently are. More than this fractured self, teetering on the edge of self-discovery and despair.

What could you possibly offer her? Nights filled with stories of... nothingness? Days shadowed by the fear of not knowing who stares back at you in the mirror? She deserves someone who is rooted in memories, with stories to tell. Not this fragmented existence you live. 

Perhaps it's safer this way, to admire her from a distance, to let her remain this source of hope and inspiration. A lighthouse guiding you through the stormiest nights. If you ever manage to find yourself again, then maybe, you'd take that chance. 

Glancing at the clock again, it's 7:45 PM. Still no sign of her.

Dejectedly, you remove your apron and prepare to leave.

-

Wanda Maximoff blends into the bustling streets, the hood of her jacket pulled low over her face and her boots echoing a muffled cadence on the pavement. Dressed in tight denim and a nondescript hooded jacket, she hardly resembled one of the most powerful Avengers.

She mumbles a silent curse under her breath, glancing at her watch. She's late—later than she's ever been—and she hates it. Thursdays at the cafe are her only remaining connection to you. 

She can see the cafe now, its warm light spilling out onto the street. She pushes the door and her eyes immediately scan the room, searching for that familiar face behind the counter. The disguise continues to work; to everyone, she’s just another customer. She doesn't draw the same attention here as she does in New York. 

It’s North Carolina after all, and the town they put you in cares more about art than superheroes.

Louisa's attempt at nonchalance is commendable but slightly betrayed by the quick tightening of her lips and the slight flutter in her eyes. “Good evening,” she begins, voice as steady as she can manage. “Can I get you the usual today?”

Wanda's gaze, sharp and unyielding, remains locked on Louisa's face. “Where's Y/N?” she asks tersely.

“I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can't share information about our staff's schedules.”

She pauses, letting the words settle before adding, “If you're looking to see Y/N, perhaps you can drop by tomorrow between 2 pm and 8 pm.”

“Oh,” Wanda mutters softly. 

Vision, in his human disguise, comes up behind her.  “Wanda, we should go,” he murmurs, attempting discretion, but Louisa catches his words nonetheless.

Wanda hesitates, her posture rigid. “I needed to see them, Vis,” her voice is laced with a quiet desperation, a yearning for something—or someone—lost.

“I know,” he replies softly. “But they aren’t here. And we can always go back tomorrow.”

“I just have a feeling,” Wanda says. “Maybe this time, they’ll—”

“You’ve had that feeling for weeks now, but nothing has changed.” 

They've lowered their voices to whispers, forcing Louisa to strain her ears to catch the exchange between the two. Vision soon catches on to Louisa's subtle eavesdropping. Their conversation abruptly stops, and Wanda, a bit lost, looks up at him for an explanation. Vision subtly nods toward Louisa, signaling her presence.

Clearing his throat, Vision steps forward, deciding to divert attention. “A hibiscus tea, please,” he says.

Louisa, embarrassed at being indirectly called out, fumbles slightly before regaining her composure. “Of course. Name for the cup?”

“Victor,” Vision replies smoothly. With a nod, Louisa gets to work, while Vision takes a few steps to the side with Wanda, resuming their conversation in even lower tones. 

Louisa sneaks occasional glances while pretending to be engrossed in her work. The two stand slightly apart, their conversation seeming both intimate and tense. Wanda's fingers fidget, wringing her hands, her lips moving quickly. Vision responds with a calming gesture, fingers grazing her forearm.

The steamer hisses as Louisa finishes the hibiscus tea, her curiosity deepening.

Setting the cup on the counter, she clears her throat. “Order for Victor!”

No reaction.

With a little more force, she calls again, “Hibiscus tea for Victor!”

Again, no response.

The cafe grows impatient, a soft buzz of conversation fills the air, and a few customers shoot curious glances at the duo.

“Victor!” Louisa exclaims, this time with a touch of impatience.

At this, Vision finally turns, the gentle hum of their conversation breaking. He approaches the counter, his blue eyes apologetic. “I'm sorry,” he says, taking the cup from her hands. “Thank you, Louisa.”

Louisa simply nods, her gaze flitting between the pair. As they head towards the exit, she can't help but wonder about the nature of their relationship with you and what has them so concerned.

-

Three months ago

“You can’t do this to them.”

Wanda's voice crackles with anger and a hint of desperation, her collected demeanor fraying at the edges. The holographic projections of the globe, pinpointing potential locations and glimpses of Y/N's impending new life, bathe Wanda's face in a cold blue light, each flicker taunting her with the reality of your imminent departure.

Flashbacks flicker behind Wanda's eyes, pulling her into that harrowing moment. She feels you in her arms again, your life seeping away between her fingers. She's surrounded by dust-covered streets, crumbling buildings, and the deafening silence after the explosion. Your blood, vibrant and so, so red, pooling at the ground beneath you, staining Wanda’s shoes. She's paralyzed, every second stretching into an eternity, every breath a labor.

She was so slow, so clouded by fear. Why didn't she act faster? Why didn't she see the signs? Could she have saved you?

It was Steve's voice that brought her back to reality. “Wanda! We need to move!” She barely registered the panic in his voice, the way he swiftly and gently took you from her, laying you on a makeshift stretcher.

Every moment after that feels like an agonizing irony to Wanda. She knows grief and loss intimately, but this... this is an entirely different kind of pain. The trauma of watching you battle death is only overshadowed by the realization that while you might physically be here, mentally, the person who risked their life for her twice has disappeared.

In the quiet spaces of her heart, she acknowledges a truth she's been running from: she's spent so long building walls, so long pushing away the vulnerability that came with connecting deeply with someone, out of fear. Fear of loss, of pain, of being too raw and open. With you, those walls had started to crumble, brick by brick, but not fast enough.

She wishes she could go back, to relive those moments with the knowledge she has now. 

“You can't do this to them,” she murmurs again, the words more for herself than anyone else.

Steve stands across from her, hands on the table, his posture rigid yet his face betraying a deep sadness. “Wanda, it's not about what I want or what you want. It's protocol.”

Wanda's face contorts with anger, her voice rising, “Protocol? Y/N isn't some object to be managed! They have rights, feelings, memories—”

“Which they don't even remember!” Steve interjects, his rarely-seen frustration surfacing on this particular occasion.

“You can’t just... toss them into the world like they're yesterday's news, Steve,” Wanda hisses with barely-contained anger. They remain the lone figures in the meeting room after the team unanimously voted to craft a new identity for you, placing you in a secluded town, untouched by global news, let alone the cosmic battles waged galaxies away.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “Wanda, it’s not about 'disposing' anyone. The protocol is clear. If a super loses their powers, they reintegrate. Y/N can't live in the compound because they no longer belong in this world of chaos and danger.”

“Because they're powerless?” Wanda’s eyes blaze. “Or because they're no longer of any use to the cause?”

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Steve says, stepping closer to Wanda and meeting her gaze. “Y/N has lost their memory, they don’t remember any of this—any of us. Keeping them here would only confuse and possibly hurt them.”

“They just sacrificed everything for me. And now you want to push them aside because it's convenient?”

“No,” Steve replies, “Because they’ve done enough. They’ve given enough. Don’t you think they’ve earned the right to a peaceful life? The privilege of normalcy?”

Her green eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “All I’m saying, Steve, is that they should have the choice. And right now, we’re taking that away from them.”

-

“Your girlfriend showed up last night.”

You whip your head around to look at Louisa so quickly, it feels like you might've given yourself whiplash.

“Come again?”

Louisa grins, tying her apron around her waist with a knowing smirk. “You heard me. Your Thursday regular? Gorgeous, and those piercing green eyes? She came by looking for you after you left.”

Your eyes widen, heart racing. “That doesn’t mean she’s my... girlfriend.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Louisa teases, leaning in closer. “She seemed pretty keen on finding you. Even asked for you by name. Speaking of which... guess who found out her name?”

Your mouth opens in surprise. “Y-You did?”

Louisa nods, a smirk on her lips. “Wanda. Her name’s Wanda.”

“Wanda,” you repeat, savoring the name as it slips from your lips.

Putting a name to such an unforgettable face changes everything. But like so many things that have recently unfolded, you just don’t know the significance of it yet.

[queers-gambit]

Talk Shit, Get Hit

prompt: ( requested ) your high school bully picks the wrong day to taunt you and it's up to an equally hotheaded Billy to calm you down. call it irony.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader characters are ALL aged 18 years old

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 5.4k+

note: the reader is aggressive. the reader is violent. the reader’s hands are rated ‘E’ for Everyone.

warnings: you know the drill: author projects instead of going to therapy and uses personal experience as details. there's physical violence, aggressive reader, depiction of shitty home life / toxic family, (somewhat severe) abusive alcoholic parent, parental abandonment, cursing, bullying, Jason Carver's sister is the bully, injury and blood. cursing, threats, brief cigarette and illicit material use (marijuana / weed), i guess this is hurt and comfort, angst, we talk about Billy's abuse with Neil, too, and kinda abrupt ending.

PLEASE NOTE -

this fic will depict parental abuse, both emotional and physical. this fic will discuss an alcoholic parent. this fic will detail physical violence BY the reader.

DO NOT engage if any of these topics potentially trigger you. you will miss nothing if you decide to skip. author implores readers to value and prioritize their own comfort and mental health.

Of all the days Brittany Carver could've chosen, she picked the worst day imaginable to bully you - being akin to a ticking time bomb. To your immense surprise, she'd laid off that entire week, focused on the "big" cheerleading competition she was leading Hawkins High to victory in. It left her no energy to engage in her favorite past time of tormenting you; figuring that after 6 years of her brutal behavior, she had grown up and lost interest. You weren't someone who people bullied easily, but this thing with Brittany, it was some kind of twisted pissing contest; competition brewing in elementary school that boiled over during middle school and now lasted into high school.

However, God seemed to have a sick sense of humor because on the week your bully had temporarily forgotten your existence, things at home had escalated to a new height not previously known. It was true what they said: if it wasn't one thing, it was another.

The entire week, your mother had only been sober for - well - none of it. She was found morning, noon, and night slumped over in various locations around your home with different bottles of liquor in her grip. The house grew messier each day, a direct result of a checked-out parent refusing to do any chore and destructive little monsters that took form as your twin little brothers. You couldn't keep up, playing mother, sister, housewife, personal maid, and full-time student all at once; pushing your stress levels higher, making you bitter and short tempered. The times your mother was conscious, which was typically to find a new bottle of alcohol, she was a right nasty fuck.

Her bark matched her bite; not only yelling at you, belittling you, and gaslighting you - but also using physical aggression to "teach you a lesson" for being "disorderly" or "a waste of semen" - and yes, that is a direct quote. Her hands were dainty from malnourishment, bulging veins prominent, and despite your father abandoning the family ages go, she still wore her diamond wedding ring that left small cuts wherever she struck you. The times she wasn't sober enough to really "get" you, she put out cigarettes on your arms and thighs; leaving tiny, circular burn scars you coated in Neosporin. She’s been known to break a few wooden cooking spoons over your head, steal the money made from babysitting, even cashed-in your inheritance - pawning all of your dead grandmother’s jewelry. There were plenty of other examples, but dwelling on those instances wouldn't change the past or alter your future, so you stuffed them way deep down in your soul.

Naturally, you didn't say a Goddamn thing; under the impression that everyone had shitty family members they tolerated and that your home life was normal enough to not report to the police. You didn't know any better, you didn't know that your mother downing fifths of alcohol daily was cause for concern. You didn't know that abuse wasn't the standard - emotional or physical. It took years for you to learn that love wasn't supposed to hurt, that love wasn't supposed to scare you, that love wasn't selfish, that your mother didn't actually love you. It took years to convince yourself that you were worthy of love and acceptance, never receiving it from your mother - not knowing you could get it from anyone else.

And then, William fucking Hargrove - or Billy - breezed into your small hometown with a sweet denim-clad ass, golden, curly mullet, and a bad fucking attitude that rivaled your own.

It was a match made in heaven. Or hell.

You both suffered at the hands of your parental figures, turning abrasive and foul-mouthed as defense mechanisms. You and Billy developed hardened exteriors in an effort to protect your soft insides, and when you met officially, it was as if you two could see past that hard shell - straight through the bullshit. You recognized much of the same in one another - like looking in a mirror - and grew impossibly close in an incredibly short amount of time; grateful to have a second half who understood without ever needing explanation.

He just got you. Able to identify common threads between you. Billy understood you, having more empathy than you thought he could muster. He protected you. He loved you. He took care of you - and you did the exact same, considering you two were cut from the same cloth; wanting to assure him he was just as worthy of love as you.

Billy was known around Hawkins for being a womanizing jock with anger issues, and yet, when you finally agreed to go on a date with him, he never even looked at another girl twice. He felt as if dating his best friend, understanding that nobody else would truly understand him the way you do - so he did what he could to keep you.

He did his best to defend you, but there was only so many tangible things the star basketball player could protect you from. Gossip and petty cheerleaders, prime examples. Yet Billy still tried, even taking the liberty to confront Brittany's brother, Jason Carver, about leaving you alone. Unfortunately, it was as if Billy's concern spurred on the cheerleader's bullying, calling you pathetic for hiding behind a man and sending him to fight your battles. You told Billy to stay out of it, that you could handle the situation by yourself, that he would just make the situation much more sticky.

So he did. Billy backed off, letting you deal with the situation as best you deemed; offering his support in return, being a shoulder to cry on for the days your frustration peaked.

That entire week Brittany didn't bully you had been extraordinarily tiresome due to your mother's abuse, wanting to confide in Billy but refraining when you rationalized not bringing him into your bullshit. He had enough of his own. So, while, yes, it was a comfort to have him on your side, you never indulged Billy on the woes of your life. He was meant to be your escape, not your savior; the burden of shouldering your abuse while enduring his own feeling terribly unfair.

You kept quiet, even though you were silently begging for someone to save you. Yet you weren't a damsel, there was no Prince Charming, brave knight, chosen champion to slay the dragons terrorizing you.

However, your boyfriend was much more intuitive than you realized. You always prided yourself on your acting skills, convincing everyone around you that you were indifferent to your mother's temperament, even when showing up at school with a casted wrist, black eye, and split bottom lip. Turns out, parents in Hawkins gossiped much more than the kids, and soon, it felt like the entire town knew about your abusive alcoholic mother and runaway father. Nobody did anything to help you, they just tiptoed around the knowledge and stared at your injuries. Brittany Carver was the only person stupid enough to make the mistake of weaponizing your home situation.

It was a tepid spring afternoon, the sun peaking through the clouds and the first flowers sprouting from the thawing ground. The bell rang to dismiss for lunch, the hallways filled with mingling and milling students all grateful for the midday break. Some gathered in gaggles of friends, some headed directly for the cafeteria, and others, like you, utilized the time to exchange morning class books for afternoon materials. Your fractured wrist had long since healed, but there was a long, straight scar present as a result from the surgery you required; currently, a scabbing cut over your eyebrow, lips stinging from where the flesh split, with a collection of bruises turning different colors to represent various healing stages.

Today simply hadn't been your day.

After a week of constant alcohol-fueled battery, you felt your frustrations finally crescendo after being assigned 3 separate essays; doubling your stress, shortening your fuse, and creating heavy leaded dread as the minutes ticked by. Everyone else felt giddy for the spring-tastic weekend, wanting time to go faster so they could go home - but not you. You might've been the one teenager in the city - no, no, the county - no, wait! The state - WAIT, NO... The country, who didn't want to leave school. You didn't want the day to end and be forced out of your safety zone; anxiety twisting your stomach and prickling your skin at the thought of returning home.

Truthfully, you spent several nights a week at Billy's, being snuck in through his window; feeling unsafe in your own home and wanting to remain close without voicing your need for his proximity. You felt stronger with Billy, as if you could take on the world; as if your safety and wellbeing were (finally) a real priority. He took great pride in being that safe haven for you, thinking it a nice change of pace as he often never seized opportunities to prove himself compassionate and caring. Billy was known for being a brute, someone aggressive and commandeering; nobody associating "safety" with him - except you.

However, this wasn't one of those weekends you'd be able to sneak out, being forced into caring for your two wee brothers; them needing you, dependent on you, relying on the care and love you provide them.

As a result of your shitty week, you had been a right, foul bitch to those unfortunate enough to engage you. Being well aware of your attitude, you tried to avoid everyone, not wanting to lash out at innocent peers - labeling yourself a bitch because of your impeccable self-awareness. Though, no matter the labels you assigned, you simply couldn't rein your emotions into check given your anxiety over returning home overpowered your brain.

Knowing you'd be forced to defend yourself against your own mother set your teeth on edge, projecting your horrible mood onto anyone in your vicinity - making most keep their distance.

Keyword: most.

Much like her brother, captain of the basketball team, Jason Carver, Brittany Carver wasn't the brightest bulb of the bunch. She never picked up hints, she didn't bother reading the room or in-between any lines; she held little to no regard for those around her or their emotional state. Brittany just wanted to assert herself as Queen Bee and thought the best way to achieve that was by bullying those she deemed lesser then she. It gave her a power trip, made her feel swollen with importance, boosting her ego because in her mind, she'd rather be feared than loved.

Brittany was dressed in her pretty, pressed, and bright cheer uniform; her obnoxiously blonde hair tied in a high ponytail that swished dramatically with each step. She wore cherry flavored lip gloss, her make-up caked, skirt hiked higher than school regulation permitted because she suckled at the teat for attention - good or bad.

You heard the second bell ring and finished shoving books in your locker, trying to stuff notebooks in your bag when your locker was suddenly violently slammed shut. Flinching at the quick movement and aggressive bang, you glared at whoever dared interrupt you; a manicured hand flat on the metal to keep the locker closed.

"The fuck you want, Brittany?"

"Awh, someone's already got their panties in a twist," she mocked, two of her cronies giggling their support. "C'mon, babe, I was just stopping by to say hello - missed you this week!"

"Oh, for sure," you sneered in a sickly-sweet tone, "of course you missed me, your life is so much more boring without me in it, huh? Wow, seriously, Brittany, I'm flattered to be the main character in your life, too."

Her eyes rolled and one of the other cheerleaders at her flank, Jennifer, popped flavorless gum. "I'm surprised you still have this level of spunk and cheek to talk like that, would've thought Mommy Dearest beat it out of you by now - she hits you often enough, right? Doesn't she? Hmm, well, maybe she needs to hit you a little harder."

"Excuse me?" You snapped.

"You heard me!" She laughed. "Obviously your mom isn't teaching you any lessons since you still have this whole emo-attitude going on. But I can't say I blame her, you're such a bitch - I'd smack the shit outta you, too."

You nodded slowly, not realizing several students had paused themselves to watch the exchange; knowing this was a longtime coming and didn't want to miss the inevitable drama. Dropping your backpack, you asked, "You sure? You really wanna hit me?"

"Is it that hard to believe? I mean," she smirked, "your own mother does - of course, I do, too. Like, seriously, it's not a secret why she hits you - just look at you! No wonder she hates you, you're just a waste of space, resources, and money. Damn shame Billy doesn't see it yet, but don't worry, he will." She laughed again, "He'll get tired of reopening your lip every time you kiss. It's so pathetic and ugly, he'll start to crave what you can't offer. I mean, seriously, what guy with any self-respect wants to date a girl as broken as you?"

"Know what, Brittany?" You growled, balling your fists at your side. "I'll give you one free hit."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Yeah," your head nodded, "go ahead. One free, clean shot. Hit me if you want to so bad, but you'll only get just this one shot."

Her eyes rolled, "I don't need to, your mom's got that covered."

"Free hit, Brit," you taunted, gesturing, "c'mon, go 'head, lemme have it. Since I'm so insufferable, go right ahead - get your clean hit."

Jennifer and Jasmine shared strange looks, the latter nudging, "Just do it, Brittany, shut this stupid bitch the hell up."

"Yeah, Brittany, shut me the hell up."

She looked to her little goons with a smirk, shrugged and handing over her backpack. When Brittany turned again, she dramatically wound her arm back and used her full strength to swing her fist into your cheek; only making your head turn a fraction from impact. You hummed and nodded, the cheerleader laughing with her girls as if she had "shown you" - but her amusement died when she noticed you barely reacted.

You smirked, cracking your neck, "My turn!"

Your knuckle cracked the bridge of the cheerleader's nose - sick sound of a snap ringing in your ears and jolting the girl's head backwards; momentum forcing her to stumble. Brittany shrieked in pain, holding her nose, unable to defend herself as you launched your attack; first slamming her back into the lockers before jabbing your fist into any vulnerable spot you could.

Similar to the movies, you held Brittany by her hair to keep her in place; wailing your punches repeatedly, each hit making Britt bang into the lockers. Jennifer and Jasmine tried to pull you away but both earned their own punches or elbows to the face for the interference. You focused on Brittany, instantly curating a flock of students all eager to watch.

"FIIIIIIGHT!"

"GIRL FIGHT!"

"BEAT HER ASS, Y/N!"

Brittany sobbed as blood dribbled down her front, staining her pretty uniform, but you were just getting started. The hallway turned noisy, a circle forming around you four as all three cheerleaders were staved off; you running on pure anger, adrenaline, and overflowing frustration that encouraged your foot to kick Britt's gut. You'd never admit it, but Brittany's mocking had hurt you past words, made you feel vulnerable, disarmed, as if you were damaged, undeserving goods. With each punch or kick or stomp, you remembered a different instance of your mother's abuse, seeing her face instead of Brittany's; spurring you on with unrestrained force.

In the parking lot, Billy was leaning on his car with a few teammates from the basketball team and enjoying a hearty nicotine-filled break. Though they'd never label it as such, the boys exchanged idle gossip; listening to Conrad Jones detail his latest conquest, sneering about how "easy" Kennedy Stephens was. They were interrupted when Kyle Lambert sprinted up to them, sneakers skidding over asphalt, panting dramatically, "Billy! Billy! Y-You gotta come see this, man! You gotta help!"

"What?" He asked, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"I-It's your girl - it's Y/N!"

He pushed off his car that was supporting his weight, demanding, "What about her?"

"You gotta come quick, man, you gotta see this! It's fucking wild! Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine tried jumping her - "

Billy was surging across the carpark instantly, tossing his cigarette away before yanking the school doors open. He was instantly greeted by the chaotic sight and sounds of a fight, peers gathered in a large circle; screaming their support and hollering encouragement.

"Billy! Oh, thank God!!" Chrissy Cunningham cried, waving him closer. "You have to help! You have to do something, it's 3-on-1!"

He didn't acknowledge the strawberry blonde, just started instantly shoving through the crowd to reach the edge of the fight. It wasn't the sight he was anticipating - fearing the worst, now pleasantly surprised (and a little turned on).

Blood was splattered on the linoleum floors, a single streak smeared on the lockers. Jennifer was left on the ground with her back against the metal, sporting a busted lip as Jasmine was trying to coax her to her feet - sporting a ruddy face and disheveled look. Left in the center, to the entertainment of the crowd, was you on top of Brittany Carver, heaving your fist time and again into her face.

"Shit," he breathed, intending to step forward to stop the fight but needing to shove Tommy H. out of his way when he stepped forward.

"C'mon, man! It's a girl fight! Don't break it up!" Tommy begged, but Billy bullied through.

"All right, that's enough," he grunted, wrapping his arms around your middle and heaving you up and back a step - needing to engage his core and arms when you wriggled in an effort to free yourself. "Hey, hey, hey - "

"Lemme go! This bitch needs put in the ground!"

"Jesus Christ, when did you get this strong?" He grunted, your feet slipping on blood but still being restrained by your boyfriend's impressive strength.

"Talk your shit again, bitch!" You barked at Brittany, who was sobbing in pain and curling into herself. "Lemme hear you say another Goddamn word, you'll need more than another nose job! Fake ass, plastic bitch!"

Jason joined the center and knelt at his sister's side, helping her sit up, glaring at you and Billy. Your boyfriend grit his teeth when Jason snarled, "You need to muzzle your bitch, Billy!"

"I'll fuck you up for talkin' about her like that, Carver, don't provoke me. Watch yourself," Billy snapped in warning, successfully managing to get you behind him.

However, you dodged around him with only enough time to spit hatefully on Brittany, warning, "You wanna talk shit, you'll get hit! Don't let me hear you again - don't you ever dare say another word about my mama! I'll put you in the ground, bitch, fucking try me! I dare you! Try me again, say shit about my mama, and see what the fuck I do!"

"All right, all right, you made your point," Billy stiffly told you, pulling you away by force to avoid you actually killing Brittany. He got a look at her injuries, thinking there must've been more than a broken nose from the way her uniform was stained and her entire face bloodied. "C'mon, we gotta get outta here, come with me - c'mon, baby, you can't touch her anymore, you made your point, you'll end up killin' her or some shit," he panted, shoving through the crowd and effectively ending the fight.

Billy didn't let go of your form until finally outside - letting you rip yourself away as your blood boiled, adrenaline making you much stronger. He watched you pace; huffing, puffing, seething, all but gnashing your teeth hatefully. "That fucking bitch had it coming, Bee, it was self defense!" You finally explained.

"Oh, yeah, princess, totally looked like it," he scoffed, blocking the doors in case you tried to go back. He lit another cigarette.

"It was, you condescending asshole!" You snapped, eyes ablaze and anger tangible. "She approached me, she ran her mouth, and she hit me first!"

"Well," he sighed, "whatever the reason, it's not worth jail time for beating her to death."

"Might be."

"Ain't nothing worth throwing your life away," he offered you the cigarette, but you refused. "Why don't you just tell me what happened? What'd she say?"

"It doesn't matter, Billy."

"I think it matters when she looks like she's gonna need a blood transfusion to replenish what she's lost."

"Whatever - let it be a lesson that you shouldn't throw stones if you're scared of a boulder."

Billy sighed, smoke blown from his mouth, "C'mon, doll, tell me what happened?"

"Doesn't matter, it's done, it's over, it's in the past."

"Baby, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"You can't help, period, Billy! There's nothing you can do!"

"Well, you're not even letting me try!"

"'Cause it's redundant!"

"Obviously not when you look like a raging bull!"

Your eyes rolled, head shaking, "I handled it."

"I saw," he scoffed. "So, 3-on-1? How'd that happen?"

"I told you, they approached me."

"Well, I'm gonna need a little more to go on. C'mon, pretty girl, the fuck just happened? You know you can get suspended!" This made you freeze, muscles clamming up, looking purely petrified as if the thought hadn't occurred to you. "I know you don't want that, but if you talk to me, maybe I can help lessen whatever punishment."

"Oh, whatever, like I care about being punished," you snipped, hands twisting together - telling Billy you were beginning to get anxious.

"I think you do, it'd put you in the house with your mom alone," he trailed, pushing away from the doors to approach you like a baby deer. "C'mon, I know you don't wanna get suspended, so just tell me what happened."

"I'm sure you'll hear all about it from your little basketball buddies."

"I don't fucking care!" He snapped with the cigarette trapped and bobbing between his lips, making you look at him in mild shock. "There's gonna be a hundred different rumors, whole fuckin' school watched you beat the shit outta those girls - but I only care about what you have to say."

"There's no point - "

"Oh, Jesus Christ," he growled, snatching the cig between his knuckles, "I just saw three bitches on the ground, all injured, beaten up, bleeding - so stop being so Goddamn stubborn and just tell me! I'm tryna help you!"

"You pulled me off of her, you've helped plenty."

"I'd like to understand how this happened."

"It won't change anything."

"No, it won't, but you have a side to the story. Tell me what went wrong? What happened?"

You sighed, no longer pacing, planting both hands on your hips. Your head shook as Billy tossed the filtered cigarette butt aside, muttering when he exhaled the last of the smoke, "It seems so stupid now."

"Hey," he soothed, crowding into your space and taking one of your hands in his. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it wasn't stupid. You're forgetting, I know well enough to understand you wouldn't throw a punch unless absolutely necessary. Whatever got you riled up like that ain't stupid, sweetheart."

Like a glazed donut, your eyes turned glassy. Billy frowned and took your other hand off your hip, forcing your attention on him. "I swear, I didn't start it," you whispered.

"Only matters that you finished it," he smirked. "Tell me, what the fuck was all that?"

You sighed deeply, offering meekly, "Guess they had it comin'..."

"I know they did," Billy chuckled. "Nobody's that stupid to provoke you, except Brittany."

"I was at my locker... They approached and slammed it shut."

"Right, okay..."

"There were words exchanged, but Brittany, she - " You paused, swallowing thickly, "she started talkin' shit about my mom, about, you know, what she does..."

Billy understood instantly. "You fuckin' serious?" He growled, seeing you nod and fill him in on what was said - unable to look him in the eye as you relived your anger. By the end, you were trembling in emotion and adrenaline loss, Billy sighing deeply and yanking you into his chest for a tight embrace. "All right, yeah," he mumbled, "should've put them bitches in the ground."

"And now," you sniffled, "I'm gonna get suspended, forced to stay home with Ma all next week."

"We'll get you outta it."

"Can't, the school doesn't tolerate fighting on school grounds."

"You said she swung first?"

"Technically, yes. I might've - allegedly - prompted her into it."

"It's still selfdefense, toots, no matter what you or anyone said - if she swung first and hit you, you were only defending yourself."

You shrugged, resting on his chest, "You see the damage? Admin won't care who swung first - not when they're beat to shit."

"Yeah, there's my li'l hothead," he smirked, chuckling slightly before pecking the top of your head. "But you gotta admit, it's impressive how you took on all three."

"I guess, doesn't exactly feel like an accomplishment."

"Nah, princess, seriously," he pulled you back to look at him again, "that's fuckin' hot. I mean, they approached you and still got their asses handed to 'em. That's straight skill."

"Or just a lot of anger with nowhere to go," you frowned. "Think I should go find admin?"

"Nah, they'll probably find you - "

The doors opened and your name was called, the principal's secretary waving you to her. "Fuck," you whispered, releasing Billy.

"I'll come with you," he promised, lacing your fingers together when he took your hand. Billy had to admit, it was a little weird being in the principal's office but not being the one in trouble; waiting without patience in a fraying chair, picking at the exposed stuffing with his leg bouncing. He'd been there 45 minutes, skipping the last half of classes, just waiting as you were behind a closed door with the principal, vice principal, and the disciplinary officer.

He looked up when the school nurse lead Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine inside - glaring at them but admiring the scattering of cuts and bruises with dried blood on their precious uniforms. A few minutes later, you were exiting the office with a passive and neutral expression settled on your face. Your lip curled only slightly when you clocked the cheerleaders - hating how smug they all looked - approaching Billy instantly.

"You all right?" He checked, standing and adjusting his jeans.

"Mhm," you nodded, keeping your voice low as the principal called the three cheerleaders into his office. You waited until the door was closed, then informed with a smirk, "I'm not suspended."

"No?"

"Nope," you confirmed. "Apparently, they asked a couple other kids what happened and my story matches theirs. I was minding my business, they came up to me, they started mouthing off, and Brittany was the one who hit me first. So," you shrugged, "guess your idea of selfdefense held strong."

"See? That's good, huh?"

"Yeah," you sighed, nodding absently, "but he said the girls were gonna lose their spot on the cheer squad for this. Listen, I don't think I feel like goin' back to class - kinda just wanna take a nap."

Billy hiked up his jean jacket sleeve, consulting his watch for a moment. "Wanna head to mine? Neil's got the evening shift and Susan has bridge club for a few more hours - we'd be alone."

Your eyes rolled, "No offense, Bee, I don't feel like fucking right now."

"I'm not sayin' that, I'm sayin' let's go nap at mine," he chuckled, picking up your backpack that you forgot about. "We can come back to get your brothers but you know you're not gonna rest if you go home."

You gulped, sighing sadly, "Yeah, well, about that..."

"Something else happen?"

"Apparently... The school has an obligation to call the police if a student reports abuse."

"You reported your mom?"

"Not on purpose," you rushed in defense, "just that... I had to explain what Brittany said to me - so I had to admit what Ma did - or does."

Billy frowned, "Jesus."

"Yeah, so... Maybe going home isn't the smartest idea right now. I wouldn't wanna be there when they conduct their wellness check."

"You wanna stay at mine?" He offered.

"What about Neil?"

"He's a lot nicer with you around," he admitted. "Won't care too much if you stay the night. Plus Max has that club thing after school, then she's going to the arcade; so, she won't need a ride, we can just go."

"You know what? Sure, all right, I'll come to yours," you accepted, your lover boy whisking you away without a second thought. "Thank you, baby."

Your hands were stiff, and when you looked at them, noted split skin and stained blood as a reminder of your aggression... Wondering why the fuck people pushed you to these limits and acted surprised when you reacted? If they wanted a punching bag, they picked the wrong one - but you were willing to remind them.

When you got to the Hargrove residence, you were silent as the grave; stewing in your anger that rolled off you in projected waves. Billy was terribly disarmed, unsure how to properly comfort you - wondering how he would want to be comforted, realizing he'd want to be alone, not subject to anyone's bullshit advice. So, he did what he knew and after handing you a bag of frozen peas for your split knuckles, comfortably stripped and crashed in bed with the window cracked and a rolled joint between his fingers.

You rested on his bare chest, sighing deeply while watching the end of the spliff come to life in a smoldering ember. Billy took the first inhale to make sure it was lit and instantly handed it to you, his arm snug around you and the silence hanging in the air like the swirls of stale, exhaled smoke.

"I'm sorry it got to this point, pretty girl," He offered awkwardly, his other arm bending to prop under his head. Both of you stared off aimlessly, stereo filling the space dully in the background.

"Not your fault," You inhaled and held your breath, handing him the joint. He casually flicked the end in an ashtray resting on the window sill.

"No, but I could've done more."

You chuckled, smoke seeping through your lips and teeth, "Oh, yeah? How? You gonna beat up three girls?"

"Nah but I could beat the shit outta Jason."

"What good would that do?"

"If he didn't want a weekly black eye, Jason would control his sister."

"It's always about control with you, isn't it?"

"I'm just saying," he handed the joint back, lungs pinched to hold the smoke, "I could protect you."

"You already do, baby."

"Let me do more, princess."

"You can't fight every battle for me."

"You could let me try."

"You'd be fighting on two fronts," you frowned, exhaling slowly. "Can't fight for me when you're defending yourself against Neil."

"Might be easier to deal with your shit than my own," he chuckled without humor, accepting the spliff. "Look, I know you don't want me involved, but that's kinda what a boyfriend's supposed to do, right? Protect their woman?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Never had a boyfriend before?"

"Nobody was worth dating until you. Nobody could understand me the way you do so effortlessly."

"'Cause we're one and the same, baby girl. You don't have to do everything by yourself," he inhaled, handing the spliff over again, "don't always have t'be strong."

"Ain't no other choice."

"You could let me in more..."

"You're one to talk."

He sighed, smoke billowing. "You're right. Can't expect you to open up if I don't, so why don't we both try to let the other in more? Yeah, I get it, the shit we deal with ain't pretty but at least we understand each other, right? We're the best for each other to lean on."

"I don't wanna drag you into my bullshit, baby."

"I want you to drag me in, princess. I wanna help you."

You sighed, "Well, Brittany and her cronies are getting suspended and kicked off the cheer squad - they'll be looking for reason to take it out on me."

"Say the word, baby, and I'll beat Jason black-and-blue."

"You're so romantic."

"Only for you - so don't tell anyone. I got a reputation to protect."

You both snickered as the weed you indulged in took effect, lulling you two into a state of ease. Your knuckles had stopped burning, resting your injured hand under the frozen peas, reminding yourself to remain grateful in this turbulent period of life because now, you had someone on your team. Someone who wanted to help carry your baggage. Someone without alternate motives. Someone who was willing to withstand the storm in the hope of feeling the warmth of the sun again.

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

[i-heart-slashers]

FOLLOW THE RULES | Brahms Heelshire

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Brahms Hellshire x female!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | Your car breaking down was the worst of your worries until it wasn't.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1.5 k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | imprisonment

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | This was something I wrote and posted two years ago but I deleted that account and didn't realize it made that post unreadable. So if you see this one and the 'broken' one they're both written by me.

As another lightning bolt struck the dark blue sky, you quickly ducked into the large manor. This wasn't what you had in mind when you set off for a one-person road trip to have your car break down and get lost.

"Hello?" In case you were breaking into someone's, you called out into the quiet home, but it seemed too silent to be inhabited.

The cobwebs and dust were more than enough to make you realize that the place had been abandoned, not that you were sure why it looked like a beautiful manor.

"Greta?". A small, sad child's voice called out, making you gasp. Were they alone? Did they need your help? You had just quit your babysitting job to travel, so you were good with kids.

"Hello?" You called out again as you made your way upstairs and followed the child's voice. Your breath catches in your throat when a tall man walks out of the shadows.

"You're not Greta!".

You froze in your spot as the man, well over 6 feet tall, stepped into the slither of light made by the moon through the windows. The porcelain mask on his face hid all his features well except for the dark, rage-filled eyes.

"Get out!" a guttural growl escaped his lips as he began to stalk towards you. The fury in his eyes never changed; instead, they seemed to get darker when you put your arm out in front of you protectively and tried to back away.

"Please! I just need some help," You stutter, taking steps backward as he moves closer. "My car broke down, and I-" your words were cut short by a growl and the man lunging towards you aggressively.

Letting out a terrified gasp, you quickly turned on your heel and ran into the closest room to you. Slamming the door shut, you locked it just in time as fists began pounding on the door.

The man outside the door sounded feral, and his angry growls only worsened. This was nothing like the childlike voice you had heard before.

Sliding down the door, you sobbed, wrapping your arms around yourself before realizing that the noise was now gone. It was completely silent, almost as if it never happened.

You would have talked yourself into believing it was some type of delusion from being cold and soaked to the bone. Until the wall in the closet slowly started to slide open. 

Screaming, you threw yourself at the closet door and locked that shut as you wedged the dresser against it.

Between your scared crying and the furious banging, it almost sounded like the whole house was vibrating, or maybe it was just because your entire body was shaking in fear.

"Please-" you begged through the door as you curled into yourself, hoping the man would see sense and stop so you could quickly exit, leaving this crazed man's home.

Glancing around the ransacked room, you guessed that this wasn't the first time this had happened. 

Sitting in front of the dresser, you used yourself as another block and dropped your head onto your knees. Then, as the sounds of the man's banging stopped, you cried to yourself. 

You knew he was still in there because of the creaky floorboards being pressed as he moved around.

It was almost as if he was listening to your pathetic crying.

Coming to you lifted your head up from your knees quickly with a groan from passing out in an awkward position and still being a bit damp from the torrential rain outside.

Glancing around, you remembered what happened and where you were. You must have fallen asleep waiting for the man to leave you alone.

Halting yourself, you tried to listen for any sounds in the big house, even the tiniest of creaks, but there was nothing, only the sound of rain pouring. This was your chance to get out while you still could.

Standing up slowly, you tried to pick your feet up quietly and walk with a lighter step. Almost as if you were a teenager trying to sneak out while your parents were sleeping, but this was nothing like all those times.

Opening the bedroom door slowly, you peeked around the door for any crazed men. But he was still nowhere to be seen; your next step was to look for a weapon. 

Unfortunately for you, the only items in the room were messy clothes, women's toiletries, and a used hairbrush.

Resigning yourself to having no form of a defense weapon, you trudged on, hoping you wouldn't need the weapon in the first place. The man was taller and much bigger than you.

He would win any fight you might have.

Slowly making your way through the hallway, you prayed on every and any god that came to mind for help as you carefully tiptoed down the stairs, trying to avoid any old floorboards that would alert your attacker to you.

The silence was killing you more than knowing that somewhere, a masked lunatic was lurking. Undoubtedly, he knew every hiding spot in the big manor, and it seemed he had hidden doors around, too.

Seeing the manor door insight, you almost cried in relief as you picked up the pace and rushed towards the door, ready to swing it open and run for your life. 

You had no idea where you would go from here, but at least you would be away from this place.

Reaching for the door handle, your stomach dropped when it didn't budge. Tugging on it and urgently shaking it, you realize the man had locked you in with him.

"No, no, no," you whined pitifully as you tried to force the door open. Your face felt heavy with tears while you desperately searched the door for any lock you might have forgotten to open. 

Seeing nothing, you ran your hand down the wood until it reached the brass key lock and let out a shocked, laughing sob. He had locked it with a key. 

There was no way for you to get out this way without it.

You heard noises behind you as you were about to think of another exit strategy. Instead of running, you just freeze facing the door like a child would when put in time-out.

In a weird, childlike moment of fear, you closed your eyes in the false belief that if you couldn't see him, then he couldn't see you either.

The hair on the back of your neck stood at attention when the feeling of being watched overcame you like a sea of hot water. Subtly glancing over your shoulder, you frowned, seeing no one there.

Unless you counted a creepy-looking porcelain doll.

Gulping thickly, you continued to turn, placing your back firmly against the door as your breaths came out ragged and fearful. This was the part in horror movies where dumb idiots like you get killed.

You stared at the porcelain doll perched on the bottom step of the staircase. 

Its face was fractured, and it looked like someone had tried to glue it back together. Its dark eyes bore into yours, unmoving, and with lightning cracking through the silence, it left a suspenseful atmosphere in the dangerous situation.

That wasn't the creepiest thing, however...

How had it gotten here? 

You weren't naive enough to think that the doll had walked here itself like some possessed creepy Chucky doll. Knowing you weren't alone and who the culprit was only gave you shivers. 

Why would he have gone from almost killing you to placing a doll behind you?

At the next loud sounds, you resolved yourself never to want to find out as you pushed away from the door and ran towards the room you had come from, the only place you knew you were safe.

That room would have to be your safe haven until you could think of another plan.

A door banging downstairs and footsteps slamming the floor behind you only made you run quicker as the childish voice called out to you, but this time it went ignored.

Breathing heavily as you successfully locked the door again. You dropped to the floor and peered beneath the door, where you could see the outline of shoes as they stood outside the room.

Crawling to the wall next to the door, you placed your hand over your mouth as you tried to keep yourself from crying again. He knew you were in there, and you knew that he was waiting for you; it was like a game of hide and seek.

A few moments passed as you sat and listened to the rain pelt against the window, wondering if the man would just stand there all night and morning until you tried to escape again.

Hearing rustling noises, you frowned until a piece of paper was pushed under the door. Tentatively picking it up, your eyes widened as you read the bold words, 'RULES'.

The childlike voice calls out once again, this time with a sharp edge, "Follow the rules!"

[winchester-books]

My Girl

Based on - OBX

Characters - JJ x reader, Pope, Rafe

Warnings - Language, violence

W.C - 1.5k

Summary - Y/N gets caught in the crossfire between Rafe's rivalry with Pope and the pogues. Needless to say JJ is furious.

“Good God, this is a lot of shit,” you groaned as you handed Pope the last of the bags, climbing out of the boat as you did so.

He shrugged, “I guess that’s what you do when you’re rich,” he sighed, picking up a bag of groceries and a 6-pack of beers, “Order groceries and random crap while on a golf course… that’s the most ridiculous, privileged shit I’ve ever heard,”

You agreed, grabbing the remaining bags of groceries and following Pope. Knowing that tensions between Rafe and his Kook friends had been high with the pogues recently, you figured that him going alone to Figure 8 alone wasn’t the smartest decision, so you’d promised Pope you’d help him with his dad’s deliveries.

Speak of the Devil. 

You slowed your pace, noticing none other than Rafe and Topper with their golf clubs in hand, “Pope!” You hissed his name through your teeth, hoping to catch his attention before the two blondes noticed you. But Pope was a few steps too far ahead of you to hear, and that’s when Rafe caught sight of him. 

You watched as Rafe’s face lit up and Topper muttered something to him, shaking his head. Whatever Topper had said, Rafe had no interest and was now quickly making his way over to you and Pope.

“Well,” Rafe grinned, twirling his golf club as he spoke, “What do we have here? You two get lost or something? ‘Cause this sure as hell isn’t your side of the island,”

“Screw off, Rafe,” you narrowed your eyes at him.

Rafe bit his lip, angling his head to the side as his eyes roamed up and down your body, “No can do, sweetheart,” The nickname was sickening coming from his mouth, “You see, you’re on my side of the island- it’s my business to start asking questions,” Rafe stalked forward, eyes scanning over the the things Pope was carrying. He lifted his club, tapping on the rack of beer, “How much for a cold one, Heyward?”

“Come on Rafe, just back off,” Pope kept his eyes down, trying not to start anything with the volatile boy in front of him.

“Pope,” Rafe dragged out his name as he shook his head, a frightening smile still on his face, “Just one beer? Can’t you make an exception for a friend?”

Pope shook his head, rolling his eyes and over Rafe’s games, “They’re not for sale- they’re already paid for,”

But Rafe didn’t care. He stuck his club into the plastic bag in Pope’s other hand, yanking down and ripping it to shreds. He stood there, laughing as the groceries spilled out onto the sand.

“Dude! What the hell, man?” Pope exasperated, anger rising in his voice, “You owe me for that!”

Rafe glared at him, “I don’t owe you shit,” Rafe stepped forward, shoving his finger in Pope’s chest.

“Rafe don’t-” you flinched when Pope shoved Rafe backwards, catching the blonde boy off balance for a moment.

Rafe was grinning now, amused at the prospect of a fight. Topper lunged forward and ripped the beer from Pope’s hands, sending him sprawling to the floor in the process. 

“Topper, cut it out! Someone paid for that-”

“Really, Y/N?” Rafe gave you a pointed look, his tongue swiping across his teeth, “What are you gonna do about it?” He took a few steps toward you, lifting his club until it was resting right under your chin, “Huh?”

Out of nowhere Pope was standing and flinging himself at Rafe, sending a solid punch into his jaw. Topper was quick to shove Pope in retaliation, making him stumble forward. Rafe was panting, anger coursing through him as he shook off Pope’s blow. You watched in horror as he lifted his golf club and struck it down onto Pope’s back, driving him into the sand. 

“Rafe!” you screamed, but the boys were too caught up in their fight to hear your words, “Topper! Make him stop- please!”

You could see it in Topper’s eyes, he knew Rafe was taking this too far. Messing with some pogues for fun was justifiable to him, but this level of violence? The look on Rafe’s face, like he was enjoying this? He was going too far. 

“Alright Rafe,” Topper tried to calm the boy who was seething above Pope, sending another hit to him with his club, “Rafe!” his tone was more serious now, “Too far! You’re taking it too far-”

Before you knew it, you were running toward Rafe, trying to do something- anything, to get Rafe to stop. Rafe brought his fist back, reeling to give Pope a blow to the face, instead his elbow nailing you in the cheek. 

“Shit!” Topper ran his hands through his hair as you dropped to the sand, clutching your face, “Rafe… dude!”

You tried to sit up, still in shock from the blow. Rafe rolled his eyes, pushing you back down into the sand next to Pope with the end of his golf club, “Stupid pogues,” he muttered, leaning down close to Pope who was still gasping in pain, “Hey,” he tapped Pope on the face repeatedly until he was looking up at Rafe, “Stay the hell of Figure 8.”

“Fuck you Rafe,” you spat out, glaring at him as you cradled your already-bruising cheek.

Rafe smirked, hovering above you now, chest heaving as his raked you up and down, “That’s bold, Y/N,” he rose a brow as he nodded toward Pope’s bloody and bruised face, “You’re lucky I don’t wanna mess up that pretty little face of yours…” His smirk widened into a grin and his tongue darted past his lips. He gave you one last look, before standing up straight and picking up the discarded beers. 

Topper gave you and Pope looks of pity, his mind racing at what the right thing to do was. 

“Thanks for the drinks, Pope!” Rafe said sarcastically, “Topper, let’s go!” he demanded, leading the way back up the beach.

Topper frowned slightly, but turned, jogging to catch up with his friend and leaving you and Pope painting on the beach. 

You turned on your side, getting a better view of Pope, “You okay?” whispered with a shaky breath. 

“No.” He sighed, “You?”

You tossed your head back into the sand, exhausted and face throbbing, “No.”

-

“Y/N! Wanna smoke?” JJ asked, not even turning his head as he heard you and Pope walk through the chateau’s front door.

You opened your mouth to respond but stopped when you made direct eye contact with Kie, her eyes immediately noticing the purple bruise spread across the left side of your face. 

“Y/N? What the hell happened?” Pope trailed behind you and she caught a glimpse of him, who was in much worse shape, “Holy shit! Who did this?” 

JJ practically flew off the couch with the speed he stood up at Kie’s worried cries, “Y/N?”

Pope’s eyes fell to the floor and he shook his head at Kiara’s question, “Don’t wanna talk about it,” he mumbled, walking himself over to the fridge and grabbing a cold beer which he used as an ice pack for his busted face.

“You need bandages,” Kie was mostly talking to herself, trying to find something useful to do to keep herself from burning down the entire island to find out who did this to you and Pope. She hurried off to the bathroom, rummaging through cabinets for some form of first aid kid. 

You blinked and JJ was in front of you, worry etched all over his face as he looked at your bruise, “What… Who…” his mind was racing with questions, but he finally landed on a simple, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you winced as JJ brought his hand to your jaw, his thumb gently running over your cheek which was already turning a light purple color., “It’s just a bruise,” you assured weakly.

“Just a bruise?! The whole side of your face is black and blue!” JJ ran his hand down his jaw, getting worked up as he thought about who would do this kind of thing to you, “Who… Who did this?” he demanded.

“JJ,” you sighed, “It’s fine- we’re fine. Just leave it, you don’t need to start anything else-”

“It’s fine?” Pope perked up, repeating your words and shaking his head, “It is not fine,Y/N!” He slammed his beer onto the counter, finally reaching his breaking point, “Those selfish assholes have everything they could ever want! Yet they go out of their way to take anything we have and make our lives hell in the process!”

“Slow down!” JJ was raising his voice now too, Pope’s anger only fueling his own, “Who the hell did this?” he repeated.

“Who do you fucking think?” Pope snapped, “Rafe. Rafe, fucking, Cameron.”

“Rafe did what?” Sarah asked curiously, her and John B walking through the front door, completely oblivious to the disaster they were walking into. 

“This,” Pope turned toward her, pointing at his still bloodied face, “And that too,” his finger was trained at you now, “Not to mention the hundred dollar grocery order that he destroyed and stole when I was supposed to deliver it!” He was nearly shaking with anger, trying to catch his breath. 

“Shit,” John B breathed out as he looked between you and Pope, shocked to see you both so beat up.

“Get your brother under control!” Pope glared at Sarah before storming off to the bathroom where Kie was and slamming the door behind him.

Sarah opened her mouth, hurt flashing across her face at Pope’s harsh words, “I can’t- ugh, he’s not my fucking dog! What am I supposed to do about it,”

“He didn’t mean it,” John B assured her, “He’s just pissed,” 

“Rightfully so,” JJ snapped up, “Rafe is a psychopath,”

Sarah didn’t argue with that. 

“I’m gonna kill him- he can screw with me all he wants but you?” His eyes landed on your bruise again, “I draw the fucking line at my girl,”

John B reached out, catching JJ’s wrist before he could storm outside the door, “JJ just hold on okay-”

JJ was glaring daggers at his best friend, chest heaving with anger, “He put his hands on her,” his voice was dangerously low as he spoke.

“JJ, please,” you spoke up, managing to catch his attention, “He didn’t do it on purpose- Just drop it okay?”

“Y/N-”

“I know you’re pissed… hell, I’m pissed, but this isn’t gonna solve anything,” you grabbed his hand, “I don’t want you to get hurt too,” 

JJ chewed the inside of his cheek, squeezing your hand a little tighter. If it had been anyone else telling him not to go he would’ve already been on his dirt bike by now. “Y/N,” he cupped your face with his other hand, “He hurt you… I- I should’ve been there. I could’ve stopped him, I-”

“J, this isn’t your fault okay? It’s Rafe. He’s the asshole,” You gave him a small smile, “Just drop it okay?”

JJ didn’t seem pleased, but he nodded anyway, “Fine. But I swear, if he ever even looks at you wrong again…” 

You laughed him off, but you knew he wasn’t kidding, “So… you mentioned something about a joint? Because, I could really use some weed,”

He cracked a small smile, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, “Me too,”

“Pope’s gonna need a hit too,” Kie announced, walking out of the bathroom with Pope following close behind, looking much better than he had before after she had cleaned up most of his superficial cuts.

“Yeah.. more like a few,” he groaned, plopping himself onto the couch next to Kie.

[nwjenz]

LOVESICK kang haerin x reader

warnings: 6th member reader, fluff, haerin is down bad

“so,get up I don’t wanna fight your shadow.” yn’s soft voice fills haerin’s ears.

she keeps her gaze on her member, watching her sing and dance so gracefully to their choreography, you’re so pretty and talented, is the only thing that goes through her mind as she watches you, the way you dance the way you sing is amazing to her, which reminds her that she’s supposed-

“haerin!” minji’s voice snaps haerin out of her haze, she looks at minji alramed with doe eyes, “why did you stop dancing?”

she’s now very aware of her surroundings. all her members looking at her in concern, standing in very awkward positions, which was caused by the dance.

“are you okay?” danielle is the next member to voice her concerns.

“are you sick?” that was hanni.

“I was just about to ask that.” is the voice that fully had her attention, you “are you sick?”

yeah, lovesick

haerin shakes her head profusely, “sorry guys, I guess I just zoned out.” she says making sure to put some base in her voice to show that she’s okay, but it didn’t seem convincing.

“maybe you should go home.” minji starts,haerin opens her mouth to protest but minji cuts her off, “we’ve been practicing all day, I think you’re tired.”

“I’ll go call someone to pick her up.” hyein says, walking out the practice room.

“I’m really fine guys.” haerin says again, trying as hard as she can to convince the five girls in the room, this is what she gets for being so distracted by your beauty and it definitely won’t be the last time.

“It’s okay to be tired.” is it bad that your voice puts her in a haze?

you walk closer to her, putting your hand on her shoulder, “we’ve been working really hard on this comeback, it’s expected.” you say reassuringly.

is it bad that she feels really weak by your touch?

maybe I should go home.

all she does is look at you, which makes you even more concerned, you furrow your eye brows at her, “are you okay?”

before she can answer hyein walks back in the room, “manager unnie has car out for you.”

haerin is already walking out the room, haering minji’s faint “w’ll see you later.”

.♡.

when haerin gets back to the dorms, she spends the rest of her day in her bed, watching shows on her laptop, only stopping to answer her members “check up” texts.

she’s been so into the show that she’s watching that she lost track of time, she looks her window and sees the blue sky dimming, she looks at her clock, 6:30pm.

where are they?

like on timing, she hears the front door click and multiple voices

she jumps slightly when her door opens, only to reveal you.

“hey..” you trail off smiling at her, god, she doesn’t know how you are the way you are so effortlessly.

you walk over to her bed and sit at the edge, “we brought food, did you take anything or how you’re feeling?”

she just looks at you dazed and you look at her concerned, “haerin?”

“yeah?”

“did you hear me?”

“yeah, sorry, no I didn’t take anything.” she shakes her head.

“well, what kind of sickness are you feeling?” you ask leaning closer to her.

“lovesick.”

“what?” you laugh shaking your head and getting up from her bed. “minji’s right you are weird.”

you bring out your hand towards her for her to take, “come on,let’s get you some food.”

she takes your hand and you pull her with you to the kitchen, where the rest of the girls are.

as everyone greets her and asks her how she feels the only thing on her mind is your hand in hers

she really is lovesick.