#i know it's march stop booing me

[venustrape-arch]

@crownslip [ nick ] | cont.

it's a good day to love love ! just like any other day, really, but today it's especially socially acceptable for her to wear the heart antennae headband & go nuts with the pink & red frostings. even more so since she actually has someone to spend the day with. she'd spent the morning baking, making sure the cupcakes are done by the time nick decides to roll out of bed just so she can surprise him. granted, she knows that her boyfriend is not a big fan of yet another commercialized holiday, but he is a fan of her baked goods – she can't go wrong with cupcakes. & if she takes the time to get extra cute with them, no one can stop her.

" you bet'cha ! there were more, but the guys grabbed one each on their way out. " definitely a tax for letting them have the place all to themselves. she laughs a little at his reassurance, adjusting her headband in place before she finds herself in his arms, stealing one more kiss than given. " any time, you goober. i love you, too. " her heart flutters no matter how many times she hears him say it. this is all the type of behavior she often dreams their future selves will turn into a habit long after the honeymoon phase is over. soft gasp & wide eyes follow his request. " you made plans ! " oh, he's good. " nick miller, are you ending your feud with valentine's day for me ? "

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Study Session

michael gavey x reader

A/N: a fufilled request :)

TW: smut!, dry humping, titty sucking, size kink

word count: 1,283 words

“C’mon you can’t be dumb and weak, that’s just pathetic” Michael rolls his eyes as he holds the flashcards in front of you.

“I already said it’s 1536 and I’m not weak or dumb.” You glare at him.

“You have to know the full date. You know that.”

“That’s stupid.”

“May 19th.”

“I knew that!” You protest and snatch the cards out of his hands. You begin to look at the answers on the cards. “And I knew that was June 16th and that was March 3rd.” He tries to grab the cards back.

“You won’t learn anything if you do that.” He snatches them out of your hands with ease. “And like I said before, not very strong.”

You shove him. He doesn’t go very far. “I’m not weak.”

“Yes you are. You’re tiny compared to me.” He teases and you push him again. “Stop that you little brat.”

You snatch his glasses and stand up, taking a few stops back. You stick your tongue out at him.

“Oh very mature.” He stands, holding his hand out. “Give them back.”

“No.” You say like a petulant child.

He sighs before reaching out to try and grab them from you but you’re a little too quick this time. You dart to the other side of the room and you actually have him chasing you now.

“This is silly.” He says as he stops. You’re cornered now.

“Boo hoo Michael hates fun.” You say with a fake pout.

He holds his hands out for his glasses once more and you try to dart away. He grabs you firmly around your waist and pushes you back on his bed, realizing that he’s going to have to wrestle them out of your hands. You giggle as you fall down, playfully fighting back but he gets on top of you, gripping your wrists firmly with one hand and pinning them above your head. He puts his glasses back on with his other hand, not quite yet realizing the position he’s put you in.

“Michael?” You murmur out and he looks down at you. You can feel how hard he’s gotten against you due to all the movement and he can see the slightest glimpse of your panties from how your skirt has ridden up.

He brings himself back down to reality. “I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to. I-I can’t control it.” You know he is referring to the very obvious tent in his trousers. He’s clearly about to get up but you see your chance and  you grind yourself against him. He lets out a strangled groan.

“Maybe now’s a good time to tell you that i’ve liked you for a while.” You say softly as you look into his eyes. He can practically feel the lust radiating off of you. “Do you-”

You’re cut off before you can finish the sentence as he presses his lips to yours. The kiss is hungry and needy and you feel all his emotion through it.

“I’ve liked you for a while too.” He murmurs before kissing you again. You can feel him rubbing up against you subconsciously. “Um… you should also know that I haven’t done this before.”

“Done what before?” You know what he’s referring to but you want to make him say it.

“Sex.” He says nervously.

“Who said we were going to have sex?”

“Nobody! I mean - that’s not all I want or something. W-We don’t have to!” He stumbles over his words, feeling like he’s fucked it all up now. “I really like you!”

You giggle. “I’m just teasing Mikey. We can have sex.”

“You’re such a little shit.”

“Well if you don’t want to then I can just leave.” You begin to sit up but he puts his hands on your shoulders to push you back down.

“No, I want to. I definitely want to.” There’s a very intense look in his eyes and you just kind of nod in response.

He looks down so he can unzip his trousers and pull his length out. By the time he looks back up, you’ve taken your top off. His jaw drops at the sight of your lacy bra and he realizes it matches the tiny glimpse that he got of your panties. He immediately lifts up your skirt to check if he remembered correctly.

“Michael!” You scold him for looking under your skirt without asking.

“You wore a matching set to study with me?” There’s a stupid, cocky grin on his face as he asks the question.

“Shut up.” You murmur in response with flushed cheeks from your embarrassment.

“You really do have a big fat crush on me.” He teases. “Don’t girls usually wear shorts under skirts or were you just really wanting to flash me your panties?”

“I swear to God, I will leave right now.”

“No, don’t go. I’m sorry.” He teases gently with that dumb grin still on his face before he leans down to give you another peck on the lips.

“You’re lucky I like you.” You grumble before you reach for the clasp of your bra. 

A bra that clasps in the front; he feels like he’s going to go fucking feral.

“I’m a very lucky man.” He breathes out as you reveal your tits to him. “Oh fuck.” He groans like a desperate preteen boy before palming them with both hands. If he wasn’t rock hard before, then he sure is now.

“Perv.”

“Whatever.” He very clearly doesn’t care as he begins to suck on your right breast. You run your fingers through his hair, whimpering as he licks over your nipple.

“Are you going to suck my tits all day or do I get to pop your cherry?” You ask and he rolls his eyes.

“I don’t have a condom.”

“Of course you don’t. Virgin.” He pinches your nipple. “Ow!” You glare at him.

“Can I still fuck you?” 

The audacity.

“You’re paying for plan B.”

He grins at your answer and pushes your skirt around your waist. He decides to keep your panties on and just push them to the side. You feel him rubbing his tip against your opening. He looks at you with pleading eyes. “Can I put it in?” You nod right away before you feel yourself stretch around him. He’s just so goddamn big.

“Oh fuck.” You whine as he begins to thrust in and out of you. He goes slow and concentrates so he doesn’t become a one pump chump. He watches as your hand goes down to rub your clit. He’ll have to learn to do that for you next time.

“God, you feel so good.”He moans as he feels your creamy, tight pussy around him. It makes him fuck you a little faster now.

“You’re so big, Michael. Feel you in my tummy.” You whimper out as you squeeze a bit around him.

“I-I’m cumming. I’m cumming.” He can’t stop himself when you say such things to him and he doesn’t even ask before he cums inside you. You squeeze around him in tandem when you feel him fill you, managing to reach your peak as well. “Sorry…” He breathes out. He may not have finished right away but he sure as hell didn’t last long.

“It’s okay. You did good.” You praise him as he pulls out of you. Michael puts your panties back in place right away because he likes the idea of you keeping his cum inside you. “Perv.” You mutter.

“Your perv.” He grins and lays his head down on your chest. “Does this mean I get to be your boyfriend now?”

You pretend to think for a moment.

“Of course it does, idiot.”

taglist (comment to be addex): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 7 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi

[barefoothighlander]

fear of the dark

summary: ghost is teaching you to evade enemies before your little game turns into something darker

simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

warnings: mdni (18+), dub con, light hunter/prey dynamic, unprotected pinv, fingering, creampie, mask stays on, knife play, name calling, outdoor sex, biting, est relationship

“It goes on like this, green light means it’s active, the red means it’s off” He tucks the comm behind your ear, securing it before pulling his hands back. “This button is to talk, you have to wait for a second for the feed to run through but if anything happens, you tell me”

“Got it, green on, press to talk”

“And keep to channel 4”

You huff a breath, “Okay”

“You ready?”

“What do I get if I outrun you”

“A new skill"

“Boo”

“And if you win” You’re voice is quieter,

“You’ll find out” His thumb strokes across your cheek, “I’ll give you a head start, no leaving the property line, use what I’ve taught you and stay out of my sights, if you make it to sunrise you win”

You smirk, “See you at sunrise”

Turning around you march away from him, moving at a rushed pace, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible, the ground is dry which means your tracks will be harder to find, moving your way towards the woods you spare a glance behind you, his large frame relaxed against the side of the house, illuminated by the single light outside as his hands cling to his vest his eyes glued to you.

It’s pitch black outside, the moon provided minimal light through the branches of the tree, guiding your path, you know he doesn’t have his night vision but he’s an expert at finding tracks, one of the few skills his father taught him when they’d go hunting.

You’re breathing heavy as you stumble over rocks, walking for what already felt like hours, navigating around the dark trying to cover your tracks. You make sure to stick to dry ground, knowing that if you stepped in any mud he’d notice the footprints and be on you in an instant.

You reach a small clearing in the woods, deciding it was as good a place as any to take a small rest, you’re not sure how much of a head start he gave you but you know you can’t sit for long. It’s strangely quiet, only a few noises of squirrels running through trees fills the air, there’s no wind or birds, all you can hear is the sound of your own heart, thudding in your ears.

You glimpse at your watch, it’s only midnight, the sun wouldn’t be up for another six hours and you had a lot of ground to cover. Pushing yourself from your position you continue through the woods, avoiding patches of leaves and sticks that could snap as you walk.

Your legs are aching by the time you reach a small stream, trying to navigate your position, doing your best to recall where the stream started. It’s tempting to just jump in, the humid air of summer doing little to cool your sweat beaded skin, the effort of moving up and down hills taking its toll on your muscles.

Fuck it.

If anything it’ll be harder for him to find you in the stream, pulling your boots off and stringing them to your backpack you step in, the coke water forming goosebumps on your skin as you wiggle your toes through the stream. You bend down to grab a hand-full, splashing it against your warm cheeks in an effort to cool down, letting it trickle down your neck as it wets the collar of your shirt.

“Oi, you there?”

His voice rings through your comm, you move to respond but stop yourself, if you answered now he’d know exactly where you were, the noise from the water would echo through your mic, directly into his earpiece.

You jump out of the stream quickly, moving a few paces away so that it was out of earshot before pressing your finger to the button.

"You miss me already?"

“Just checking in"

"Sure"

“Don’t be a brat”

“What are you gonna do about it” You tease through the comms

“Wanna find out?” His voice is deeper

Your hair suddenly stands on end,

He waits a beat, “You need to focus”

“I am”

“What if I was an enemy”

“What are you gonna do, you can’t even find me”

He doesn’t respond.

“Simon?"

The line drops and so does your heart, realizing that he could be directly behind you a sense of panic sets in, you jump back into the stream, following its flow as you rush through the water, your feet splashing it onto your clothes as you make your way through, praying it would cover your tracks.

You’re on edge, the silence of the forest now gone as every twig that snaps grabs your attention, your head on a swivel as you reach a small pond. Stepping out of the water and pulling your boots back on, you squint your eyes around trying to catch a glimpse of him, your breath catching in your throat everytime a branch shifted.

You move further into the woods, checking your watch again 1:36 how had it only been an hour and a half, it felt like forever since you stepped into the trees, the soothing chill of the water now gone, your legs ached from your efforts.

“Are your pants soaked?” His voice breaks your thoughts,

“What?”

“Water was a nice touch”

The line drops again, he’s at the top of the stream which gives you a little bit to gain some distance, tugging your bag around your shoulders you hike further.

Everything starts to look the same, all the trees are reminiscent of each other, you’ll admit you’re lost, but not to him, he’d accuse you of giving up and you didn’t want that. You try your best to navigate your direction, trying to use the stars as some sort of guide but it’s useless, the clouds in the sky block half your view and you can’t remember anything about astronomy anyway, your brain too clouded by the pain in your body.

Your breath hitches at the noise of a branch snapping, your heartbeat now in your ears, you didn't factor in how scary the woods are at night, every sense heightened in the dark.

"Simon?"

You call through your comms but there's no answer, it's dead air, your nerves on fire now, your we’re alone completely, you really didn’t think this through, didn’t stop to consider what would happen if the comms went dead.

You see a small light to your right, squinting your eyes to figure out what it’s from, hoping it was a street light of some sort you move toward it, moving past trees and fallen branches to get to it.

You’re huffing for air as you approach it, your eyes almost shut as it nears, blinding you, you shield your face with a hand,

“What’d I tell you about strange lights”

Your heart drops as you hear him, the crunching of leaves under his boots as he moves near you. You stumble back from him, head turning to find some sort of escape route,

“What’d I tell you love”

you swivel your head from his form to behind you, “They’re deceiving”. In a burst of adrenaline you take off, running away from him as he fades from view, it’s unnerving the way he just walks, he’s not chasing you, it’s like he knows where you’re going.

You’re feet carry you faster than you can think, twisting around trees and over hills, the taste of metal in your mouth as your palm runs over your stomach, a cramp settling into the muscle. You rest against a large oak, closing your eyes and catching your breath, your skin on fire as you try to focus on the sounds around you.

You wait a moment, bracing yourself before turning your body to move, gasping as you feel a hand tug you back.

“Gotcha”

You’re gasping for air as he pins you against the tree, his hands clamped around your arms, keeping you from fighting back.

“Okay, you win, let’s go home”

“Not without my prize”

“Simon, please” Your body is weak against his, no energy left in your muscles as he invaded your space, his chest pressing against yours, the fabric of his vest digging into your flesh.

“You didn’t listen”

“What?” Your brain is a fog

“You did nearly everything wrong, I could’ve had you the minute you stepped into the woods”

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t apologize, you’ll learn”

Your hooded eyes plead with him, begging to go home, to rest but finding no sympathy, he leans his face towards yours, his chin next to your neck.

“I think you wanted to get caught, wanted to see what would happen”

His words click in your head, the heat from your skin suddenly transferring to your core, your arms straining against his grip as you let out a small whimper.

“That’s it, isn’t it, you wanted be to find you, to teach you a proper lesson”

He squeezes your arms tighter when you don’t respond, his eyes moving to stare into yours, his gaze is dark something darker behind it.

“That’s alright love, I’ll give you what you want, but you have to listen”

You squeeze your thighs, trying to rid yourself of the ache between them as his hand trails down your side. He removes it for a minute, your stomach flinching as you feel the press of cold metal against it, it forms goosebumps on your skin, he trails it toward your breasts, teasing it through the valley of them before placing it under the hem of your shirt, splitting the fabric up the middle.

The cold air hits your skin causing your nipples to harden as he traces the blade over your skin, pressing it flat against the raised buds.

“You look good like this, all ready for me to use”

Your chest maintains a steady rise and fall, “Si-“

“Not this time love”

Your face falls as you watch his face, the shell of a skull staring back at you, “Ghost, please”

He pays no attention to your words, running his knife along your skin before settling it above the hem of your pants, wriggling your hips to sooth your arousal.

“Needy little thing aren’t you”

He removes his hands from you, giving you an out but you stand in front of him, weak fingers working to undo your pants, he watches as you stumble to step out of them, leaving you in your underwear, the chill outside doing little to settle your nerves.

“Such a perfect little thing” He runs a gloves hand over your breasts, humming as you let out a sigh. Your body freezes as his knife makes contact with your skin again, trailing it towards your core before using it to cut your panties, letting the fabric drop.

He flips the blade, teasing your thighs with the handle of it before he runs it through your folds, biting back a gasp, there was no way to hide your arousal now.

He pulls his knife into view, your slick coating the handle, glistening in front of your face “You’re fucking soaked, you little slut”

“Open your mouth”

You do as he says, flattening your tongue and pushing it out as his hand cups your jaw, holding it open. He runs the handle across the muscle, the taste of yourself dancing over your taste buds as he pushes it slowly into your mouth, stifling a chuckle as you gag around the handle. He watches the string of spit that forms between you and the weapon as he retracts it from your mouth, his eyes glancing toward your core, your unsteady legs holding you up as he brings the weapon towards it.

“Do you think you deserve my cock?”

“Yes, please Ghost”

He teases the handle between your folds, holding it against your weeping core, forcing you to clench around nothing.

Your head falls forward as he pushes it into you, the rough material running along your walls as he pumps it into you. Your hand reaches to brace on his shoulder, holding yourself up before his free hand connects with your throat, pushing you back against the tree. Your body is on display for him, his head looking down to where your cunt is swallowing his blade, groaning at the sight of your slick leaking from your core.

“Greedy little slut, you’d take anything wouldn’t you”

You shake your head, your voice strained by his grip on your neck,

“You will, you’ll take everything I give you”

He thrusts the handle into you faster, tightening his hand as you start to grind yourself down on it,

“Need more, please”

“You wanna cum on my knife you fucking slag”

“Please” You open your eyes at him, your face flush as you silently beg, he releases your throat, allowing you a breath as his gloved hand meets your clit, you arch your back at the contact, the rough circles providing enough stimulation that you feel your knees weaken.

“Do it, cum for me”

His fingers rub along your bud and you come undone, your fingers digging into his vest as you cum with a sob, your body falling forward against him as his fingers work you through your high. He feels you finish, pulling his knife from you, listening to you whimper from the loss of contact as he throws it to the dirt.

His arms lock under your thighs, hoisting your weak from against him and pressing your back against the tree, he grinds his clothed erection against your cunt, your core soaking his pants as your arms wrap around his neck.

“I’m gonna fuck you, and you’re gonna take it, all of it”

Your pussy clench’s at the thought, your ears failing to hear hun unzip his pants, the tip of his cock reading through your folds, smearing your slick around your thighs as he lines himself up.

You bury your head in his neck as he pushes in, the stretch of him burning your walls as he stuffs his cock inside. His hands grip your waist, moving you further down his length until his tip is buried in your cervix, your fingers digging into his back as you whimper around him.

“That’s it, gonna fill this tiny cunt”

He holds you against the tree, keeping you up as his hips pull back, his cock dragging against your walls before he thrusts it back in, his balls slap against your ass as he pounds his cock into you, forcing you to take every inch.

“Fuck, can practically see myself in you”

He holds you with one arm while the other presses firmly to your stomach,

“Gonna split you on my fat fucking cock, you’d like that huh?”

His hand makes contact with the side of your ass when you don’t respond,

“I said you’d like that, wouldn’t you”

“Yes!” You scream, the heartbeat in your ears overpowering any other noise in the area as he moulds you to his cock.

“Gonna fill this tight pussy with my cum, let you walk around with my seed in your cunt, dirty fucking whore”

He buried himself deeper with every thrust, pulling almost all the way out only to force his length back in, the weight behind his thrust bouncing you up and down, his eyes watching the way your breasts jump with every pump of his cock.

His fingers trail to your sensitive clit, pinching the bud, you let out a yelp, bearing your teeth into the base of his neck as he grunts, you mark his flesh as his grip on you gets tighter, sure to leave bruises in their wake.

Tears well in the corners of your eyes as you drop your cheek to his shoulder, the saliva in your moth dripping to wet his collar as he works another orgasm from you.

“Cum on my cock, want you to soak me, feel you squeeze me with your tight little cunt”

The bark of the tree scrapes against your bare skin, forcing you to arch into him, his cock driving deeper into you as you sob around him, his fingers circling and flicking over your clit, the band inside you stretching as your body melts.

You clench down on him, greedily taking every inch as you cum, your slick dripping from your core to wet his cock, your cum coating the opening of his pants as he grinds his pelvis against your clit, the friction from his pubic hair adding another layer as you ride out your orgasm.

You’re reduced to whimpers as he takes over all your senses, all you can hear, feel, see is him, the way his cock has you full, his grunts filling your ears as your gaze is stuck on him.

“That’s it baby, so good for me, such a perfect little slut”

You cling to him with weak limbs as his knuckles go white from his gold on you, his arms rising you up and down to meet his thrusts as he chases his high,

“That’s it, fuck that’s it, taking me so well”

He quickens his pace, fucking you ruthlessly, your aching core sucking him in as he pushes his length into you, his tip buried deep inside your walls as he holds you against his chest. Your lower stomach warms with the feeling of him spilling inside you, flooding your core as you sigh, your pussy fluttering as he pulls from you, watching his seed leak from your cunt before pushing it back in with two fingers, making sure it all stays in.

He holds you for a moment, letting you regain your composure before gently letting you down, his hand on your waist holding you steady as he removes his jacket, wrapping it around your naked form providing some sort of warmth.

You watch him with heavy lids, your body swaying at you try to stay upright, his stare is softer now as he bends down, his arms snaking under your legs to pick you up, holding you against his chest.

“Did so well love” He presses his forehead to yours, the heat of his body warming your cold limbs, “Let’s go home”.

He maneuvers around carefully, holding you steady as he moves around the trees, his gaze shifting to you every minute to make sure you were okay. He makes it out of the woods in minutes, the warm light of the windows coming into view as your body grows tired.

He carrie’s you into the house, slowly making his way towards the bathroom, setting you down for a moment so he can turn the tap on the bath on, he kneels in front of you, his hands tugging his mask off so you can see him, giving him a weak smile as he gently removes your remaining clothes.

He helps you to stand, walking towards the warm bath, feeling your muscles sooth as you step in, the water washing over your skin. He strips his own clothes, feeling the water rise as he sits behind you, his legs bent beside your frame as you lean back against his chest.

He runs a gentle cloth over your skin, cleaning up any dirt and grime that was on it, carefully cleaning around your core before his arms settle around your stomach, holding you close.

He rests his lips against the crown of your head as you focus on the sound of his breaths, steady behind you, lulling you to sleep as his thumbs trace over your skin.

[itstheghostofmypast]

Thanatophobia

Idol Choi Jongho x (F)Reader

Summary: How long does it take one to actually give up on you? How long does it take the other to realise that love is more than just an act of receiving, where bottled-up fears and insecurities may be enough to pull someone away from you, especially the someone Jongho had begun to take for granted.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2.4k

Est. Read Time: 20 min

Warnings: Strong language, thanatophobia (fear of losing someone you love)

Rating: PG-13

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Choi Jongho was anything but heartless, he was arrogant at times, he was stubborn most of the time, he was emotionally clueless sometimes, he was sarcastic most of the time, he was petty at times and he was straightforward most of the time, but what he was not, and he quotes, was a ‘heartless moron’. Now, he wasn’t one to fight, in fact, they’d barely ever get into a fight, usually because she would be compromising or choosing to accept defeat, but tonight was not one of those nights where he was given this privilege, where she would easily accept defeat and brush off his sarcasm, no, it just escalated into something ugly and gruesome.

It all started when he came home early for once, the dorm was empty too, or so he thought, for the moment he had flopped down on his bed, face forward, someone had jumped on him, scaring the daylights out of him.

“Boo!” “HOLY SHHHH- what are you doing here?” he whined, rolling over when she rolled off him, both of them lying on their backs, staring at the ceiling, well, he had his eyes closed, she turned her head to look at him with a pout, scooting closer, wrapping her arms around his arm as she pressed her cheek smush against his shoulder, enjoying the warmth of her baby bear, “I had the spare key, Wooyoung gave it to me last time I came over but you were out, so he was like I should have it, gave me his saying he’d get another one and-” Cracking open an eye he scoffed, “You sure talk a lot to Wooyoung huh?” turning his head to meet her gaze, she had stopped her monologue, to stare at him in utter shock, “What? I’m not wrong, I didn’t even know about the key thing- Sitting up she glared at him, “That’s because you weren’t home, Jong.” The tension between them was getting thicker, he was tired physically, but she was tired mentally, “You haven’t been responding to my texts or answering my calls, so I doubt you’d know- “I have a job, you know?” he scoffed, following suit, as she sat on his bed on her knees, frowning at him, and he sat at the edge of the bed, both in a heated stare off, he was actually waiting for her to avert her gaze, or mumble an apology or whine cutely to end the fight, so he’d feel like he’d won like he had control, some form of dominance, “I can’t just respond to your every whim.” That was probably what set it off, because the next thing he knew she got off the bed and snatched her phone off the side table, slamming the bedroom door shut when she marched out of the room, her tantrum just set the whole forest on fire as he marched behind her, slamming the closed door open and calling out, “Yah? Are you in your senses? Why are you being like this!?” reaching out to grip her wrist he turned her around, ignoring how she was trying to pull away, “What is your problem? Are you mad about the Wooyoung thing? Cause I’m right about that! You’re my girlfriend, not his!” by now he was yelling, furious, frustrated, fed up, but at what? At his hectic schedule or her? Or perhaps he was upset over how he was unable to spend time with her and the time he had been given was ruined by his own pride. “Y-You think I don’t know that?” she yelled back, snatching her wrist out of his grip, “I know you’re busy too, but the least you can do is leave me on read, can’t you? You don’t even open my texts! I can’t magically guess your schedule!” He should have stopped there, he should have, he had realised that he was in the wrong, but was he willing to accept it so easily? No. Why? Because he was jealous, he was upset and more importantly this was the first time she had ever ignored him, ever chosen to show how his nonchalant attitude had upset her, this was not what he expected, he just thought they’d go on for ten minutes and she’d probably change the topic, not list down why he’s a bad boyfriend. “Doesn’t mean you get all cosy with Wooyoung.” “I-” she stared at him standing in the hallway for a good minute before taking off her ring and throwing it at him, the clink of the gold ring hitting the ground resonated within the silence, before her words cut through it, “You’re a heartless moron.”

That was three hours ago, three hours ago when he had let her walk away like she didn’t even matter to him, instead, he stood there watching the ring on the tiles, the ring she had gotten for them on their first anniversary, it wasn’t a promise ring, but more of a ‘just know when we’re far apart across the world, you’ll always have a piece of me and I’ll have a piece of you’ kind of ring- why’d she throw it at him, shouldn’t she have taken it with her and asked him to give the one he was wearing back to her?

“I love how that’s the only thing you’re worried about.” Wooyoung sighed, climbing up the stairs, his phone sandwiched between his ear and his shoulder as he carried two bags full of groceries up the quiet staircase, “You’re a real idiot you know, she did come over three times last week, the poor thing sat outside the apartment for an hour the third time and that’s when I gave her my key…Hongjoong told me that was the right thing to do too.”

“I- I was busy.” The youngest huffed, staring at the gold band, twirling it around in his fingers, “It’s not like she told me, I was too busy to read her texts, so she should’ve understood-”

“Understood what? That you’re a shitty boyfriend?” Wooyoung stopped at a step, the step that led to their floor, someone was sitting on the floor next to the door to the hallway (Yes Woooyoung had used the fire exit to come upstairs, San had told him this was a great way to work out- he’d kill the bastard for that tomorrow), hugging their knees, head resting against the wall, puffy eyes closed- was she asleep?

“What? Why!?”

“Jongho, did you even call to make sure she reached home safe?”

“Well… I…no.”

“I’m amazed you found someone who loves your useless a**.” With that Wooyoung hung up, sighing as he walked over to her, placing the grocery bags on the floor to crouch down and gently shake her shoulder, “Excuse me miss, but are you in your senses- how are both of you this dumb?”

.

Jongho slammed the front door open, not even bothering to put on his mask as he hastily made his way out of the apartment, only to bump into a smaller form, hearing a familiar yelp he instinctively reached for her, wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer, pressing her against him. He let out a breath of relief, at the realisation that it was in fact her, she was too tired to pull away or even push him away, and that was why she just stood there, letting him wrap his arms around her, resting her forehead against his chest, too drained even to protest. He looked behind her to spot Wooyoung standing there, grocery bags in hand with the most disapproving look he could muster, “Found her on the staircase, poor thing cried herself to sleep there- then there’s you, a bastard with an ego as big as the sun-”

“H-her phone was powered off.” He quickly defended himself, pulling her even closer as he tightened his arms around her, not wanting her to escape. The moment Wooyoung hung up on him, he realised how bad he had f*cked up, Wooyoung was never one to leave a conversation hanging, that is until he completely gave up on the person, and if Wooyoung had given up on him, did this mean his patient, compassionate, honeybee had done the same? Though his question was answered with a loud sniff, causing him to look away from Wooyoung and look down at her, only to meet her teary gaze, his gut twisted at the way she asked the dreaded question with her voice trembling, as if it was being thrown around by her pestering insecurities, insecurities that he had brought to life, that he had helped manifest within her, by constantly pushing her to the sidelines, by ignoring her beckoning calls, by looking right through her even though she stood right in front of him, with a warm smile and a heart of gold- one he was not worthy to call his own; “D-do you not love me, anymore?”

It was this very question that had him look up at Wooyoung in panic, a cry for help, though the fox-like man shrugged and walked past them, mumbling, loud enough for him to hear, because he knew the girl crying in the younger man’s arms was sobbing so loud, the floodgates of all that pain and anxiety that was slowly drowning her had now enveloped her completely, leaving her a mess, a mess he was supposed to fix, so she couldn’t hear him, she didn’t hear him, when he side-eyed the youngest, and walked past them, “You f*cked up, fix it yourself,” slamming the main door shut behind him, finally leaving the two alone in the corridor.

An eternity later the two were sitting on the same staircase where Wooyoung had found her, the two were staring at the window ahead, she thought she was tired before, but all that crying just amazed her, at this point, she felt like she’d faint if he pushed any wrong buttons. Though they had been sitting quietly for the past hour, he had not uttered a word, which meant he wasn’t going to be the first to break the tormenting silence, as usual, it would be her, to kneel and-

“I’m sorry.”

Her eyes widened at the foreign choice of words, slowly turned her head to stare at him with shock through her puffy, swollen, eyes, licking her dry lips before speaking. Still, he cut her off again, this time turning to face her, the determination in his eyes somewhat scaring her, she’d only ever seen that look when he was going to sing a song that wasn’t the easiest when it came to the number of high notes, perhaps he was going to sing a perfect melody that was just for them, in tune with their pent up love for each other- for his locked up love for her, a symphony she wouldn’t mind hearing over and over again.

“I- I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but you need to understand I did not doubt your loyalties or misjudge your character, I was only self-projecting my insecurities, I know you’d never do such a thing, I know you love me and I- I” he paused, watching how her breath hitched, eyes widening in expectation, biting her lower lip unsure of how he felt about her, “I love you so much it turns me stupid- it scares me how much I want to be around you, I- I want to be vulnerable around you and…what if you don’t like it? You don’t like me when I’m not my at my strongest or my best…and I- I guess what I’m trying to say is,” he reached in his pocket to pluck out the ring, showing it to her, “Could you please find it in you…to give me another chance- you don’t have to say yes right away, I won’t force you, I could never…just…let me drop you home this time…yeah?”

She stared at him quietly, blinking slowly as his words processed before letting out a sigh, scooting closer as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, burying her face in his neck as she placed a soft kiss against his warm skin, sighing when she felt him pull her closer, gripping him tighter when she heard him sniff, feel his body trembling against hers, letting him finally let it all out against her, but never looking up, her face buried in the crook of his neck, mumbling sweet positive affirmations or kissing the skin as she let him have his moment, only to feel him slowly push her away, looking down at her with puffy eyes that matched hers, and a nose pinker than hers, “Please…stay.”

“I wasn’t going anywhere, you dummy.” Sighing she pulled off him, taking the ring from him but he didn’t let her, instead, he slipped it back on her finger, “I was waiting for you to come and give this to me…if I wanted to leave you for good, I would’ve told you to give me the ring you’re wearing back.”

Letting out a dry chuckle he shook his head, he was an idiot, one who couldn’t read situations as well as he boasted that he could- he guessed he was clueless when it came to love, at least he had someone as patient as her to help him pull through his minefield, frolicking through it like it was a field of daisies.

“Thank you…” he sighed and pressed his forehead against hers, before leaning closer to capture her lips in a kiss, only to realise how long it had been since he had kissed her, making him pull her closer, cupping her face as he tried to make up for lost time.

Finally pulling back she smiled at him out of breath, watching how he took in equally deep breaths, his cheeks all puffed out and pink, “I’m out of practice.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got all night.” She smiled.

“I prefer taking things to the bedroom, not a voyeurism guy.”

“Choi Jongho.”

“I love you” he chuckled, watching her shake her head in defeat as he pulled her up to her feet, laughing when she whined at how he was speed walking to the apartment, mumbling, “Do you want me to carry you? Because I will, for as long as you want, honeybee.” And that’s what Wooyoung saw before Jongho closed his bedroom door, carrying her half-asleep form in his arms, bridal style as he mouthed a thank you to Wooyoung before going to finally cuddle up next to her like she had originally planned for the night.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky

[sofasoap]

Gorgeous art work of Nikto and Anya by @nrdmssgs Also thank you @connorsui for giving me permission to use the idea from this post

warning: None. little fluff and interaction between Uncle Nikto and Anya.

Flowers

“дядя,дядя– ”

Nikto looks down at the little girl currently tugging his pants and holding out a little daisy in her hand.

Don’t touch her. Zhar specifically asks you not to get close to her. 

You will taint her.

The white sheet of pureness.

“Дядя– TA!” Anya shoves the flower up towards the masked man, insisting on him to take the flower off her. 

Nikto sighed, kneeling down to her height and took the flower off her. 

The little girl’s face brightened up and clapped.

“Дядя, stay, stay.” she commanded as she ran off towards the field, bending down to pick more flowers. 

Bossy just like her Papa. 

“Fluffy flower!” Anya shoves a dandelion into his hand, but her face falls as the seed head starts to fly off with the wind. 

“Oh….boo… ah.” She mumbled, and turned towards the fields, leaving Nikto waiting again. 

Nikto doesn’t know what prompts him to sit there, watching her running back and forth, dropping more and more flowers into his lap.

Buttercup, more daisies, lavender, yarrows….

You can form a bouquet.

Maybe you can give the bouquet to Olya 

But Anya will be sad 

There’s something about this little girl that makes the voices in his mind shush themselves, instead of talking over each other, they turn into a quiet discussion. 

“Дядя.” Nikto’s mind pulled back to focus, the little girl yawned. “Sleepy.” 

Without waiting for his reply, she climbs into his lap like a kitten, and settles herself and falls asleep within seconds. 

What should I do?

Why is she trusting me?

“Nikto.”

The growling and heavy footsteps behind him made him turn his head, and he saw his new commander marching towards him, his second in command following closely behind.

“Is my daught….” Nikolai stopped as he spotted the toddler peacefully sleeping in the masked soldier’s lap, surrounded by flowers. He shook his head and sighed, gently picked her up and headed towards his panicking wife.

“Oh lord you found her…”

Nikto watches as the family of three disappear into the building, totally forgetting Zhar’s presence. 

“What were you doing with her?” She frowned at him, waiting for a good explanation. 

“Flower picking.” 

“Looks like you've been used as a human basket.” She looked down at his lap. "What are you going to do with those?”

“Do you want it?” “No. But don’t ruin the little princess’ hard work.”

Nikto was spotted few days later trying to dry out flower and carefully placing them in a box.

[okaerina]

𖥻 ( 尤も ) HYPE BOY ! — @/NMR ⋆ ࣪

syn ; in which your crush declares his love for you !

you enter your class with a bright smile plastered on your face. It was truly a wonder why suddenly you were so enthusiastic about coming to school. well it all started in last year when a cute and cool transfer student from japan became your classmate. he's been popular ever since he stepped foot in this school. both senior and junior girls will fawn over him, boys will die to befriend him or either be like him. his popularity rose up more after he joined the dance and basketball club and drastically secured his position as the ace. nishimura riki he was. soon you also found yourself extremely interested in him.

today was a basketball match and you were gonna cheer for ni-ki to the fullest. not to mention the fact that you've literally spent the whole night praying for his victory. the ringing of the bell snaps you out of your daydream as your eyes fall on the entrance of your classroom and there he is, nishimura riki in all his glory entering the classroom with his signature swag as the girls and boys flee towards him but amidst of all his eyes meet with yours as you quickly avert your gaze down from the embarrassment that you just got caught gawking at him. but you fail to notice the adorning smirk lingering on his plump lips as a light pink hue decorates his bread cheeks.

time flies faster than ever with you constantly stealing glances at ni-ki and getting caught oh so embarrassingly. but you can't stop i mean how are you supposed to? when he looks so dreamy? everyone quickly rushes towards to the school's basketball court as the game's about to start in a while. you rushed to take a seat at the front row where the view is nice with your bestie tailing behind you. the game starts and your nervousness takes over you as if you were the one playing on field. but your anxiety quickly subsides as you take a notice of the dirty blonde mullet's charming smile. the rest of the game was you cheering at the top of your lungs for ni-ki. ni-ki successfully does the last dunk as the victory of ni-ki's team is announced through the microphones. everyone breaks out in a chaos of celebration and some in shame of loss. you were most definitely on the celebration's side.

you rush out your way towards the field where ni-ki is to congratulate him with a beverage in your hand but suddenly you halt in your footsteps not daring to take step forward towards him. there ni-ki stands with girls surrounding him like beehive and suddenly you feel so small and meek compared to them.

does he even know who you are ? do you even have any chance ? will he ever be yours ?

wary questions like this filled your head afterall you weren't the best. you were insecure. but deep inside you always believe your love will reach him and that you'll have your happy ending with him. ni-ki excuses himself from the girls as he takes notice of your zoned out figure and marches towards you. "boo !" he exclaims as you let out a squeak. all he does is laugh at your cute expression and you cannot help but blush at how melodious his laugh sounds. "sorry, btw is thar for me ?" he chirps pointing at the beverage can in your hand. "y-yes!" you reply as you shove that in his hands. he happily mutters out a thanks and proceeds on chugging down the beverage. you take this as a chance to admire his beauty. the way he closes his eyes, his lips attached on the can, his perfect side profile and his prominent adams apple that bobs up and down as he drinks the beverage. seriously how can someone drink so handsomely ?

your quickly pulled out of your lovesick thoughts as ni-ki pulls you by your hands in a empty classroom and that's when you notice your probably gonna die from heart attack caused by him. he locks the classroom door and steps towards you. you notice the way his growing muscles highlight by the sleeveless jersey he's wearing with quarter high jersey pants that compliment his long slender legs. he comes closer, pining your hands on both sides of your head, your back pressed against the blackboard. his face so close to yours you can easily count each and every moles and blemishes. his sweat drenched long hair sticking at the back of his neck as long strands of wet hair fall over his eyes. they tickle your face from the close proximity. his plump lips just few centimetres away from you, your eyes travel from his lips to the mole decorated right under the corner of his lips as you gulp out of nervousness. "did you think I wouldn't notice, princess?" the nickname makes your knees wobble and suddenly you are unable to utter out words as he continues. "it might not be the best occasion but I couldn't control myself anymore y/n. I love you, I really do, I've been in love with you for so long." you couldn't believe what was happening right now. is this a dream ? "I-I love you too" , you reply with a shy smile and blush painting your cheeks. before you can say another word you feel a pair of soft plump lips crash on yours. you flutter your eyes shut in contentment and kiss back. the kiss was so passionate and filled with love.you both broke apart as you two smile resting each other's foreheads together.

"i love you my chemical, hype boy ! "

© aengello / 2023

taglist ; @solarwoniii @shiningstar-byulxx @wtfhyuck @ichiibunztwt

[currentfications]

Ocean Eyes | Part 1

Pairing: Bada Lee x Producer!Reader

Synopsis: You’re the newest member to Jam Republic Agency’s South Korean branch, starting next week as a music producer. You’ve arrived a few weeks in advance to settle into the area, and was advised by the agency to stop by JustJerk to greet another fellow member, famous choreographer Bada Lee.

Warnings: Swearing

AN: Recently relocated to this blog, hope you enjoy the read!

Previous | Next

Standing in front of the building, you take a deep breath and hope that the heart throb dancer you’ve seen on the dance show is as down to earth as Latrice have previously mentioned. Knowing that they are still filming the final few episodes of Street Women Fighter 2 and the possibility that the team’s schedule is jam packed, you crossed your fingers that you’ve arrived at a good time for a quick hello.

Walking into the reception area, you were greeted by the receptionist and stated your reasons of visit, along with a few administrative details. Once that is completed, you waited in front of the elevator, quickly checking your outfit. You’re wearing a turtleneck and an oversized coat, skirts with an opaque black tights underneath. Almost every inch of your skin was covered, a lesson you’ve learned during your visit to Akanen in Japan - people tend to stare a lot when you have this amount of tattoos, little artwork you’ve collected like stickers all over your body. Then there’s the intimidation factor, where people tend to find you inapprochable; you’ve decided to cover up a little for your first meet up with your agency member.

You noticed a loose shoelace right before the elevator arrived and squat down to lace up your platform boots - a signature piece on you that you never leave home without, a relic you take from your past life in Australia. The elevator dinged and you straightened yourself up to walk in.

The metal doors opened up to seven girls already inside, presumably coming up from the parking lot. Your eyes widen as you recognised the members of BEBE looking back at you, pausing their chatter to give you a polite nod. Initially planning on greeting the group leader in their studio, the sudden encounter took you by surprise. You entered the elevator with the girls and returned the greeting, only to promptly turn around to press on a random floor button. The doors closed and a moment of awkward silence filled the room.

When the elevator next opened up you excused yourself from the situation, “Have a great day lovely ladies,” came out of your mouth as you contemplated between ‘great day’ and ‘lovely day’, you marched down the corridor as the metal door slams behind you, trying to maintain your composure. As soon as the elevator moved on to the other floors you squatted down near the corridor, trying to bury your face from the encounter. You pulled out your phone to text the other Jam Republic dancer for a rant.

Y/N: LATRICE I COULDNT DO ITTTTT

Latrice: Wdym are u still standing in front of the building?

Latrice: Just walk in already u cowardly bitch 🥱

Y/N: I DID

Y/N: b-but they were just in the elevator and it was so cramped and so awkward and I freaked out 😭😭

Latrice: Ma’am are u telling me u were silent the whole elevator ride and followed them to the studio like a creep??

Y/N: What no I’m not an idiot wtf

Y/N: I went to a random floor instead

Latrice: Oh god you dumb cunt, I told u she’s really nice didn I?

Y/N: … yes :(

Y/N: … but they’re like really cute

Y/N: … and I was in an elevator with ALL 7 OF THEM

Y/N: Your honour it’s not my fault that I have problem talking to hot girls in an enclosed space

Latrice: boo, u whore

Y/N: Yes now come pick me up I know you and Kirsten are still in the area

On the other side of the elevator, the group exchanged a look and all started giggling. Your all black attire and looking statue, though did not help to make you any less intimidating, made quite an impression on the dancers. “Who’s that?” Sowoen was the first to break through the giggles. “I think I might’ve had a crush.” The youngest of the group twirled her hair between her fingers.

“Oh wow what about me?” The leader of the group interjected, her supple lips pouty, feigning a look of heartbreak.

Lusher lightly smacked their leader’s shoulder, “No but Sowoen is right, ‘lovely ladies?’ Damn that was smooth.” Tatter nodded and hummed along in agreement.

“Y’all see another tall hot dancer and have forgotten all about me, I see how it is.” Bada complaint and continued to fake-sulk. When the elevator opened up at their floor, your cotton candy perfume dissipated and the tall dancer found herself missing the sweet scent in the air.

Tatter side eyed her leader, “Emphasis on hot dancer, so you agree with our sentiment too huh-” her sentence was cut short by Bada poking her sides. “Attention ladies and gentlemen, Bada Lee has her eye on someone. I repeat, Ms. Lee is checking out someb-” the blonde was again attacked mercilessly by the taller girl.

“Excuse me I think I called first dib?” The youngest of the group protested. “I had eyes on mother first and I’ll fight.”

The group turned to her and all chimed in with disagreement, “Baby girl have you seen her? She’s gonna break your heart. I’ll have her instead.” The fox-eyed dancer added. The team laughed in unison as they got ready for the Performance Battle, putting aside their curiosity for the stranger.

[aza-writes]

All Night

Hogwarts Parties Series

Draco Malfoy x reader, Past Harry Potter x reader

Requested: no

Summary: Reader invites her boyfriend, Draco, to a Gryffindor party. What happens when she means to put on a little show for Draco, but Harry enjoys it a bit too much himself? 

Warnings: alludes to smut, actual smut, dirty talk, Draco’s hands, vague description of a female body, drug use mention. Use of y/n

A/N: This was my therapy. Also, I watched the “10 Things I Hare about You” table dance scene sooo many times prepping for this. Also, this is my first smut so feedback is welcomed. The use of drugs relates to upcoming fics, all a part of a mini non-related series that focuses on parties at Hogwarts, so Hufflepuffs smoke, grow, and sell while Slytherin is their top seller. It’s like that TikTok trend from March. 

Gif: @love-above

Draco’s POV

Never in a million years did I think I would be at a Gryffindor party, nor would I fall in love with a Gryffindor who would invite me to a Gryffindor party.  Nonetheless, here I am, sipping on fire whisky as a mix of red and yellow figures swirl around me, but none of them matter. What matters is the giggling girl in front of me holding a ⅔ full bottle of fire whisky with her house tie wrapped around her head. And I only had a glass and a half, and she’s managed to drink the rest by herself. And no, she can not hold her liquor well. 

Even now, when we are standing close to the wall, she swayed her hips while singing along to the muggle song blasting throughout the common room, only stopping momentarily to take a swig out of the bottle. She manages to capture the attention of every guy in the room, yet she doesn’t notice. All she cares about is knowing all the words to the song, and when she doesn’t, she drinks. But I can’t even concentrate on that. All I can see is her tight, low-rise jeans that barely sit above her hips and a shirt that exposes her whole midsection. She loves the attention, and she thrives in it. No wonder she’s in Gryffindor. 

“Drayyy,” she turns around and gives me puppy dog eyes, “let's go dance! Come dance with me!” She takes a swig out of the fire whisky bottle, allowing the alcohol to give her even more confidence than she already had, causing an “I can do or say anything” mentality. 

“I’m not sure, darling; I think they’ll boo me off the dance floor.” 

Y/n frowns at this. “But yoou dance at the Sslytherinn oness.” She then wraps her arms around my neck, never stopping the movement of her hips. “Please dance with me, Dray.” 

“In a minute, my love, I need a bit more of anything in my system before I have a fraction of your courage.” 

She sticks out her tongue like a child and returns to a dopey, drunk smile before sloppily kissing me. “Okay, baby-” As soon as she was about to say something else, she pauses. She focuses hard, then gasps. “Draco! This is my song! I’m dancing with or without you.” Before I could answer, she heads off to the dancefloor. 

Y/n meets up with her friend, whose braids have appropriately incorporated red and yellow, and dances with her. More accurately, dances on her. I’m mesmerized as her hips sway to the beat, and she uses the bottle as a microphone. I don’t even recognize the song, but y/n doesn’t miss a word, even in her drunken state. 

I’m amused at her little dance and have gathered enough courage to go out and dance with her when I notice her eyes light up as the lyrics sing, “What’s wrong with right here on the counter?” Right next to her is a table that previously hosted a beer pong tournament that now sits vacant. It was like Merlin was speaking to her, telling her exactly what she had to do next. Before I could even register what was happening, with fire whisky in hand, y/n climbed onto the table and began dancing again. 

With her new stage, she gained a lot more attention. She never missed a beat, her hands, head, and hips moving in sync. As the cheers grew, so did her confidence, allowing her to do even more provocative moves. But her eyes never landed on the many boys and girls around her. No, they landed on me every second they could. And her attention enough to pull me in. 

I stride over to the table, starting to feel the effects of the fire whisky slowly sink into my system. I worm my way through the crowd, pushing people out of my way to get to the edge of the table. If this is a show for me, I want a front-row seat. 

She runs her hands over her body, keeping eye contact with me as she performs for her whole house. She throws her hair back and swirls her hips around, all aimed at me. As the first chorus comes to an end she raises the bottle to her lips and sings along. 

She keeps me up

“I keep you up!” 

She keeps me up

“I keep you up!” This time, it wasn’t just y/n but the whole common room. 

All night

“All night!”

All night

“All night!” 

As I watch her begin to dance to the second verse, I can’t help but notice one figure across the table. Staring right up at my girlfriend, my y/n, was fucking Potter. His mouth was gaped open, mesmerized at her movements. Usually, I wouldn’t be that upset; most people realize y/n is mine and back off immediately, understanding they are just making trouble for themselves. But this is different because it’s Potter, my enemy Potter, or even worse, y/n’s ex-boyfriend Potter. 

He’s so enamored with her that he doesn’t even realize I’m glaring daggers at him, but y/n notices. She looks down at me, realizing my attention isn’t on her. She follows my gaze, landing on Potter. When she makes eye contact with him he blushes, knowing he's been caught. I expected him to stop staring at her and go anywhere else, but no. All he does is smile and wave at her. 

Potter fucking smiles and waves. 

At MY y/n.

Y/n continues to dance, making her moves flow to the beat, but instead of her eyes on me, she keeps them on Potter. My jealousy forces me to keep my eyes on Potter too, watching his reaction to my girlfriend dancing. Fucking Potter couldn’t be bothered by me. He doesn’t care about how he’s staring at another man’s girlfriend. 

I’m so consumed by jealousy that y/n’s face across from mine startles me a bit. She’s all I can see. She places her hand on my chin and forces me to look at her. 

“Hi.” She smiles, her eyes glimmering with mischievous and lustful intent. 

“Hello, darling.” I can feel my face and eyes soften while looking at hers. There’s something about her, I can’t tell if it calms me down or riles me up. 

She winks at me then gets back up and dances again. She then returns her attention to me, no longer looking at Potter. Her eyes trained on mine. Her dance moves were intentional. It wasn’t until the song ended that she got off the table. The crowd that formed around her started cheering and going wild at her performance. They whistled and begged for “just one more song!” Despite everyone around her cheering, my eyes fall on Potter’s. 

He doesn’t even notice I’m there until y/n stands next to me and kisses my cheek. The whole Gryffindor common room becomes a bit quieter upon seeing me in there. I’ve been able to go unnoticed until now. Everyone just stares at me, giving me confused and disgusted looks. I’m unsure how to feel. I don’t even care. I didn’t come to insult them or to cause trouble, I came for y/n. 

She kisses my cheek again and turns my head to look at her, wrapping her arms around my neck. Instinctively my hands landed on her waist. I can feel the heat radiating off her arms. The heat of our bodies was circling between us two. 

Between kisses on my cheek, neck, and nose she giggles and says “How did you like it?” 

“I liked it when you were looking at me.” 

“Really? Cause you paid more attention to me when I looked at Potter.” She moves her arms from around my neck to hold my hand and leads me away from the middle of the room and up to her dorm and away from the scowls in my direction. 

I pause, unsure of what to say. Was this her plan? I knew she was trying to make me jealous with Potter but did she know I would become this upset? Did she know I would react this way? 

“You tricky little minx.” It’s all I can manage to say, especially when she starts to run her hands over my arms, wiggling my jacket off my shoulders. 

Y/n still faces me as she opens the door behind her back. “You weren’t watching me, so I made you.” She brings her leg up and kicks the door in with one foot, walking backward into the room as she pulls me by the collar of my jacket. As soon as the door is closed she fully takes my jacket off my body, then slowly unbuttons my shirt. 

“Like I said, tricky little thing aren’t you?” I let out a small chuckle at her boldness. Typical Gryffindor, in all the right ways.

“I know what I want, what I want is your attention.” She turns us around and pushes me onto the bed, my shirt fully unbuttoned. She smiles at me as she strips off her shirt, discarding it somewhere in the room. I couldn’t be bothered to look where it went though, my eyes were trained on y/n’s. 

“You have it love, I couldn’t imagine taking it off of you.” 

A little smile pops up on her face, a light blush creeps across her cheeks. She unbuttons her jeans, pulls them down, and steps out. “Good boy.” She climbs onto my lap and sits herself down. Instinctively my hands land on her hips, gripping tightly to ensure she doesn’t leave my sight. “You’ll keep being a good boy for me, right baby?” 

“I need to be a good boy?” She nods. “You’re the one that needs to be taught to behave. Showing off like that in front of Potter.” 

“Oh yeah?” She giggles lightly. 

“Yes darling, now be my good girl and lay down on the bed.” 

Her smirk stays as she gets up from my lap and onto the bed, resting against the perfectly propped-up pillows. “Only for you.”

I step out of my pants as I climb onto the bed. It only takes a light tap on y/n’s calf for y/n to prop her legs up and spread them. She’s still wearing the smirk on her face, naughty little thing thinks she’s won. 

“Since I danced for you, you should dance for me.” She giggles a bit. Poor girl thinks she’s going to get away with her little stunt that easily is she? 

I let out a small chuckle, not wanting her to know my true intentions for tonight. I waste no time with my plan and kiss the inside of her thighs. Even though I want the plan to start quickly, the plan is nothing but fast. This will be a very, very long night. I slowly kiss the inside of her thighs, slowly inching toward her pussy. Her breath hitches. One heel drags down the length of the bed before going back up to its prompt-up position. 

I kiss closer and closer to her clit, teasing around it. Y/n’s moans turn lighter, airier. Her hands drift down and grip my hair. I sit up and pull away, causing y/n to whine. 

“I didn’t give you permission to touch me, darling. Only good girls get to and you were so, so naughty tonight. Do you understand?” I look up at her lightly, her smirk and any pride drops. All she does is nod, I need more. “Use your words, princess.”

Her eyes turn soft, making puppy dog eyes at me. “Yes, I’m sorry.” The way she gave in too quickly isn’t enough. She’s planning on doing something again. She hasn’t learned, she’s only saying that to get her way—such a naughty girl. 

“No, that isn’t going to cut it.” I get up, causing her to whine even more, such a pathetic slut. “Stop it, or don’t. Depends on if you want to get punished. I can not make you cum tonight if that’s what you want.” That got her attention. She shakes her head, worry fills her eyes. “That’s what I thought.” 

I walk to the top of the bed and rip the Gryffindor tie off her head. “Hands.” She immediately puts her wrists together above her head. I love how submissive she becomes. She projects such a confident, independent persona that all crashes down as soon as I call her a good girl. Merlin, I fucking love it. 

I wrap her wrist tight on the headboard, making sure she can’t get out but wanting to avoid unnecessary pain. 

“Use your words, darling.” I stand at the end of her bed, facing her. “What do you want me to do to you?”

“Touch me Draco.” She keeps her eyes on me and raises her voice a bit more, trying to keep some control. 

I smirk at her, causing her to let down her guard again. “Such a confident girl, yet you can’t ask me properly how you want me to fuck you. If you just want me to touch you I can put my clothes back on and we can cuddle all night, but I think you want more.” I get on the bed, placing my hands on either side of y/n, hovering over her. “What do you want?” 

“Fuck me.” there’s a pause. I’m waiting for a complete response. She knows better. “P-please.” 

I kiss her softly. As I pull away I gently bite and pull her bottom lip a bit before letting go. “Good girl.” 

I sit up and grab my wand from the pocket of my jacket and point it at the door. “Muffilato. Colloportus.” I set my wand back where it was then hover back over y/n. “I don’t think any of your friends downstairs will notice with all the noise, but just in case.” I slowly crawl down to the edge of the bed, returning to my previous position. I kiss around her pussy again, inching closer and closer to her clit but carefully avoiding it. “ I want you as loud as possible for me.” 

She nods, but it’s cut off by her throwing her head back as I lick a long stripe up the length of her folds. Although I’m getting some sort of reaction, the lack of noise from her is very upsetting. I am the first one to admit it, I’m greedy when it comes to this. I need her screaming and shaking by the end of this. 

I move one of y/n’s legs so her thigh sits on top of my shoulder, giving me a better angle of her soaked pussy. She’s glistening at this point. Her buzzed state amplifies the teasing, making every touch linger longer. 

Every time my nose brushes against her clit, a loud, resounding moan leaves her mouth. Her eyes closed tight and she yanks on her tie, trying to escape the makeshift binding. 

After teasing her clit for a while, leaving small kisses on it then going back to tongue fucking her pussy, she squirms a bit. 

“Dray, please.” She swallows. “I need more. Quit teasing.” 

I sit up, causing her to whine even more at the loss of contact. “I’m sorry darling, I thought you said you would be good for me?” I lightly bite the inside of her thigh, instigating more little yelps and whines from y/n. 

“You’ll get what I think you deserve.” I bite the inside again, this time a little higher up. “Besides, you’re clearly enjoying this. Even though your thighs are covering my ears, I can hear every little sound you make.” I slap the outside of her thigh and make her open up her legs again. She complies almost instantly, and I go back to devouring every inch of her I can get my mouth on; this time though, I pay a bit more attention to her clit. 

She continues to pull on the restraint and buck her hips up. I had to result in holding her hips down tight against the bed so I could continue. 

She’s lucky I love her or I wouldn’t put up with this defiance. 

But she knows I like the cat and mouse just as much as she does. 

Her eyes stay shut tight as I suck on her clit and slide one finger into her dripping pussy. I curl my fingers before she gets to adjust to the new sensation. After only a few seconds, I slowly pump my fingers while feverishly sucking on her clit. Her moans went from soft and quiet to loud and breathless. Her brain is turning to mush as her walls tighten around my fingers. She’s close, but I want her on the edge. I want her on the cusp before I finally…

There it is. 

I pull my fingers out and detach my lips from her clit. She whines again, trying her hardest to buck her hips up to get some form of contact. I kiss along the inside of her thighs and up her torso, giving extra attention to her hip bones and in between her breasts.

I can feel her breath becoming increasingly rapid, her chest rising and falling faster. Little whines escape her lips as I leave hickeys all over her breast, collarbone, and neck. There wasn’t a surface unmarked when I made it to her lips. 

I pull away, making her whine even more. I go back to marking up her neck. “You won’t cover these up tomorrow. I want everyone to see them.” She nods as I suck on the spot behind her ear that makes her weak every time. “A painting just for Potter to see.” 

I can feel myself growing harder inside my boxers. Y/n can feel it too dragging against her thigh, or I assume so from the groans she lets out whenever I accidentally brush my hips against her. Even I can’t help myself from letting out a groan. 

I can’t wait any longer, I need to be in her. 

I pull away from her, shoving my underwear off before she even has the chance to complain. I get back on top of her and smash my lips onto hers. She smirks during the kiss, I do too a bit. I slip my tongue in gently as I ease myself into her dripping pussy. I hand my head down and moan, relieved to finally be inside her. Her high-pitched moans bring me so much confidence, it’s a nice ego boost knowing I get this reaction out of her. 

After giving y/n some time to adjust, I start to thrust slowly. 

As much as I love the control and dominance I have over y/n I want her hands clinging to me. I can’t just untie her hands and let her think she can be bratty whenever she wants. Right now, I would kill for her nails scratching my hair and down my back. I need the sting that mixes with the pleasure. As much as she needed my hands on her, I need hers on me right now. 

“Fuck it.” I reach up and untie her hands. Thankfully, she immediately brings her hands to the nape of my neck, letting her nails scratch my scalp and a little down my back. That little action intensifies the moment. Her hands know exactly what to do. I can feel them scratch down my back, causing me to let out a loud grunt and go faster. Her moans continue, each one ringing and lingering in my ears, my head. 

I can feel my hips faltering, stuttering with every thrust. I’m getting close, so is y/n. I lift one leg up to rest on my hip, letting me reach a better angle. 

“Dray,” her voice is so airy, “I-I’m so close.” 

“Me too darling,” I pick up my pace even more, “let go for me.” 

Almost instantly, she does. She squeezes around me and arches her back as she cums all over my cock. With two more thrusts, I cum as well. I stay in that position for a few seconds before carefully pulling out. As I do, y/n takes a long deep breath in. She only releases it when I lay down next to her. 

“I love you Draco.” I turn to look at her, her chest rising and falling, working hard to catch her breath. 

“I love you too darling.” I lean over and kiss her head. “I love you so, so much.” 

I get up to try and to get something to clean her up with, but she pulls me back into the bed. 

“Just,” she takes another deep breath, “Just stay here, with me.” 

I just nod. I don’t know what else to do, this moment is so perfect. I have everything I’ll ever need whenever I’m with her. Right here, right now must be the definition of heaven. She is my heaven. 

Taglist:

@alinefrank

[coucouatoi]

we're not who we used to be | h.s.

Pairing: Harry Styles X Reader

Summary: Some letters you've written but never sent to Harry over the years.

Warnings: Angst... so much... there's some fluff, emphasise on the some, there's a hopeful ending tho!

A/N: Sooo this is the childhood friends to strangers fic no one asked for... Hope you all enjoy! This is my writing debut in Harry land :)

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April 10' 2010

To: Harry Styles From: Your first fan

Hiya Harry,

It's currently 11:29 pm about 10 hours away from your audition. I figured since you told me to stop praising you and boosting your ego, I'm writing down the rest of the things I want to say.

Firstly, I know you're going to smash it! All the judges are going to want you in. There's no chance that they won't see how special you are, how you're the next big thing.

I won't let you back out of it last second! Anne, Gemma and I are ready to drag you onto the stage, we've discussed it thoroughly...

Secondly, I'm already so proud of you. This is a huge step, I know how nervous you are about it. How you think that everything is going to go wrong and that you'll fail. I've got enough hope in you for the both of us. I'll stand by your side the whole time and I'll cheer the loudest.

To finish, you're Harry Styles. You can do anything.

Break a leg superstar!!

Cheering you on already,

Your first-ever fan

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December 12' 2010

To: Harry Styles From: Your biggest fan

Harry!

You've made it all the way to the finals! It's crazy! I knew you could do it but seeing you go further and further has been surreal.

I hope you and the other boys get along well! We haven't had much chance to really gossip about it all, you seem excited with them!

The finale is set to start in about 2 hours and I had to get some emotions out (my mom was tired of hearing them... rude) Anyway! I remembered that I had written you a letter a few months ago and now I'm back in this notebook.

I'm so nervous, excited and kind of nauseous about watching the last episode tonight. I can't even imagine what you're feeling right now... You must be so scared but incredibly jittery!

I'm counting the days until I get to see you again! I want to hear everything that's happened behind the scenes! You know how nosy I am!

I've already taken up two pages so I'll stop for now.

You can do this!

Talk to you soon,

Your favourite person ever

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March 7' 2011

To: You From: Me <3

You called me Angel today...

I don't know what to make of that.

I had so many butterflies in my stomach.

Could you call me that again?

You're my favourite person,

Angel

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November 20' 2011

To: Harry From: Angel

Boo!

You finally let me listen to the full album today! Said you had to be there when I listened to it so you could give me all the secrets. You also wanted to see live how I reacted to every song. You're too cute.

"I Want" is my current favourite.

You did tell me that you'd resonated with a lot of the lyrics you sang on this album. That almost scares me.

How did you relate? Who was going through your mind?

You do have the world at your feet now. I shouldn't feel jealous but I do like having you all to myself. Don't worry I'll get used to sharing...

The Up All Night Tour is starting soon! I'm happy that you've invited me to come to some shows. I'll be there no matter if I have to miss school.

I have to show all these newbies that I'm THE biggest Harry Styles fan out there!

Hopefully, you thought about me while signing.

Because I think about you all the time,

Your favourite fan.

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April 13' 2012

To: Harry From: Angel

G'Day Mate!

So you're officially all the way in Australia now! That's so exciting I wish that you could have stuffed me into your suitcase... sniff

I bet it's super warm there! Or not wait their seasons aren't the same as ours, are they? I'm not even sure...

Hopefully, you can tan a little while you're there! Don't go near any animals or insects!!

I miss you a lot, maybe I'll send this one (spoiler I definitely won't).

Talk to you soon hopefully.

Go swim in the ocean,

Someone who wants to be in it

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August 29' 2012

To: Harry From: Angel?

You haven't come to see me since you've been back.

Too busy being a celebrity?

I've been seeing all these tabloids... I'm not allowed to be jealous I know but I miss you.

I hope you've missed me.

I really really wish you were here with me or that I was with you wherever you are now.

I just want to be us.

Have you forgotten your friend from the small town already?

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January 1' 2013

To: Harry From: Someone You've Hurt

I don't know what to think,

You kissed me. It made me happy.

You said it was a New Year's kiss.

You said you drank too much, it hurt.

You ended up kissing someone else about 20 minutes later.

That hurt even more it almost made me feel used.

I'm happy you were my first kiss.

I don't think you'll even remember it,

Y/N

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November 27' 2014

To: Harry From: Me

I love the new album, took me a while to finally listen to it. I thought you'd come home and make me listen to it in your presence.

You didn't. The first album that I've listened to alone.

Spaces and Fools Gold are my favourite songs. I wonder how many lyrics you resonate with. How many of them did you write?

Come home?

Only for a day please,

Your first Angel

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October 21' 2015

To: Harry From: Y/N

It's been a while,

It's your mom's birthday today. Well only for a few more hours...

She invited my family and me to the party, and of course we went. I didn't think you'd be there. I haven't seen you in almost a year.

It was fun.

Catching up about everything that's been going on with you and the band. Your life is so much more interesting than mine now.

I'm just a boring college student... you're this huge star but that's ok there's no one like you for me, you're my safe place. No matter how far away.

You asked about my love life and I told you about the date I had a few days ago. You asked if we had sex, I lied and said yes. I didn't want to embarrass myself by telling you no one's ever been with me like that.

We ended up getting drunk. Too drunk.

We fucked.

You took my virginity and you have no idea... should I tell you? You were so good. So gentle, loving but you fucked with a purpose, you needed to get off. I won't ever see your childhood bedroom the same way.

This was only a few hours ago.

I've felt every emotion about it. Now I'm crying because I know you'll find someone new to share a bed with. I'm just a notch in your headboard.

It meant everything to me.

But I think I regret it...

Y/N

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May 12' 2017

To: You From: Me

Really?

I hope Only Angel isn't about me.

But I'm overanalysing every single song. Is one about me? Did you think of me while making this album?

We haven't talked since the last time we saw each other. When we fucked again. It wasn't even the second time, after your mom's birthday two years ago we never stopped. It's all we do when we see each other.

It doesn't make me feel all that much better but I feel like if it wasn't for that we wouldn't even know each other anymore.

I'm moving away this year. Got a job offer in Canada and I'm taking it.

Maybe I'll get over you... hopefully.

I can't live my whole life waiting for someone who I don't know anymore.

I'm blocking your number.

I miss who we used to be,

Your first-ever fan

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

December 4' 2019

To: H From: Y/N

Hello,

You've crawled your way back into my life, Harry. This morning, you decided to send me your album. Your new one, Fine Line. Your fans haven't even heard it yet. The public hasn't either.

You didn't write a single thing in your email, the mp3 link was staring me down with your automated signature. Not even a greeting.

I shouldn't have listened to it.

I don't know why you sent it to me. We haven't spoken or crossed paths in over a year. Not since I moved and tried to get rid of every way of contact between us.

I still haven't answered, I don't think I will.

You don't get to know what I feel about it. Not anymore.

I'm sorry Harry.

I've moved on,

Y/N

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December 13' 2019

To: H From: Y/N

Your new album came out today.

I'm proud of you even if we are strangers now.

You're a superstar.

I always knew you would be,

Y/N

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March 17' 2020

To: H From: Y/N

I saw that you had to postpone your tour.

You must feel so defeated.

I know I do. Everything's been closed and opened and closed again here in Canada. It's getting exhausting.

I hope the world starts working again soon.

This all sucks...

Crossing my fingers for the tour,

Y/N

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May 18' 2022

To: Harry From: Y/N

Hi,

You sent me the album before the release again.

This time you did say something: I miss you Angel, Can we meet up?

I didn't think I could feel so many butterflies in my stomach. I felt like a teenager again. And I cried more than once listening to Harry's House.

I'm still considering if I should answer... if I do what should I choose? Should I agree and go into the unknown or forget it happened and keep on going with my life?

I miss you too... the one I knew. Not the one who used me. I guess I used you too... How did we get here?

All I want is to be loved and to be in love.

I'm not sure if I'm ready for the hurt this will bring but maybe I should just be a grown-up about this...

I want you back in my life.

That scares me,

Y/N

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August 16' 2022

To: Harry From: Y/N

Well,

I'm going to the Love On Tour today and after we are going to "meet". We even have until the 20th because that is when your next show is, after today obviously.

You were so excited when I agreed.

It's almost as if no time has passed when we text (he changed his number in the last few years... no need for an embarrassing unblocking).

My friend, the one who convinced me to agree, helped me pick out an outfit. Thankfully for her, I won't stick out like a sore thumb in the crowd of feather boas and cowboy hats.

I really want this to work.

I want to believe that we can be good again. We can be healthy for one another again but I'll be worried until I see you.

Until we speak.

I won't let myself touch you, I have a feeling that it would be far too easy to fall back into a bed. Maybe a hug would be okay.

I'm excited for the show, to see the Superstar Harry Styles in action. After so many years you have to have evolved so much.

You aren't little Harry from Worcestershire anymore.

I'm not the same person I once was either.

See you tonight.

Break a leg,

Y/N

[mire1li]

Surprise Stars!

Robin had been preparing for her concert when, just 10 minutes beforehand, for some unknown reason, she fell unconscious. Luckily though, her manager had caught her and placed her on the couch in her dressing room.

When you, March and Dan Heng heard of the news from Aventurine, who got the information from god knows where, you and March essentially dragged Dan Heng to Robin’s dressing room, her manager pacing around when you three entered.

The manager watched you, confused and worried as she stopped moving, studying the three of you.

“Who…? Oh! You’re Robin’s friends…”

“Ah, yeah, we heard Robin fainted, is she alright?!?!” March immediately stepped forward, frantically, though took a moment to look around in adoration of the large room, seemingly forgetting of the current predicament, before snapping out of her thoughts and jogging over to the couch where Robin lay unconscious.

Robin’s manager shooed March away from Robin, claiming that ‘she shouldn’t be seen at such a vulnerable time’, albeit understandable, it also seemed rather unreasonable, though none of you questioned it.

“So… why are we here again?” Dan Heng chimed in, looking between both you and March for a reply.

“Uhh… well obviously we’re here to help!”

“We are?” You asked “How?”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? I THOUGHT YOU ALSO HAD THIS IN MIND?”

“No???”

“Ah! You’re insufferable!” March sighed dramatically, turning away from the two of you.

“Okay… um… well, I don’t really see how you three could possibly be of help in this situation…”

The manager glanced towards the clock nervously, placing her hands over her face for a moment before looking back towards Robin, who looked as though she was taking a casual nap.

“Oh… yeah, uh… I didn’t really think this through… haha…” March chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck.

Soon enough, too much time had passed and the crowds were getting restless, causing the manager to panic and return to pacing the room, constantly looking back and forth between Robin and the ground.

"Ok… It's fine!" She exclaimed.

"I could… I could reschedule the show for tomorrow… uh… oh for- ok… I can't do that…" she rambled on and on, when you decided to propose a rather ludicrous idea.

"Ah… excuse me, what if we just… went on stage for Robin and called it an opening act?"

"What?"

"What?!"

"What."

The manager had stopped her pacing, glaring at you, as though you'd just suggested blowing up the entire place (though that wouldn't be too out of character for you). She sighed pinching her nose bridge.

"How ridiculous would that be? Absolutely no one would like that at all!"

"Hey! I'm only trying to help. Besides, you don't know that!" You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring right back at the unnecessarily hostile woman, though you assumed her stress was bringing about her attitude.

"Uh… I… didn't sign up for this..-"

"The trailblazer is always filled with such silly ideas haha! But I think it would be fun… and it could buy you time to wake up Robin!"

March added on, cutting off Dan Heng, clearly trying to rope him into this… impulsive idea, soon-to-be reality.

The manager groaned in irritation, falling back on the arm chair in the room.

"Fine. Fine. Do what you want, however, I'm not involved in this."

And so, there were the three of you, on the stage, dressed in fancy-ish dresses borrowed from Robin's wardrobe, wearing wigs, earrings, and other accessories to really sell the performance.

You tapped the microphone, testing it, causing the audience to go silent, before March stole the microphone from you.

She cleared her throat and confidently spoke into it.

"Hello! Uh… unfortunately, due to uh… technical difficulties Miss Robin's performance is scheduled for a bit later, but don't panic please! We'll be performing first until that time!"

Though, the crowd booed, unhappy with the sudden change, most of them went silent when she began speaking again.

"I'm… ah…" March glanced at you, before being hit by an epiphany.

"Oh! I'm April 1st!" she continued, striking a confident pose, leaving you and Dan Heng feeling… well, not pleased, but you guessed it was better than nothing.

March passed off the microphone to Dang Heng, who also cleared his throat before speaking, though when he did, you and March nearly died laughing on stage as he attempted to mimic a female voice, somehow sounding convincing enough to fool the crowd.

"I'm Cold Dragon Young.." He, or rather, 'she', introduced 'herself' as, trying to sound as gleeful as possible before immediately passing the microphone to you with a glare.

'Nobody forced you' you mouthed to him before introducing yourself as (your chosen name).

Then came the music, specifically "If I Can Stop One Heart from Breaking". The three of you were aware it'd be best with just one singer but… three is always better than one, so if you mess up, at least you have the comfort of knowing you aren't alone!

You began singing the first verse of the song, doing the dance Robin would do at the beginning, though adding some of your own spark to it.

The chorus was sung by the three of you, though it was clear Dang Heng was beginning to struggle a bit, so you decided to give verse 2 to March.

Upon the arrival of the second chorus, you and March decided simultaneously to stay quiet and let Dan Heng take the spotlight, causing him to falter slightly and look at you two in an irritated manner, though continuing to sing.

Whilst you were all performing, Robin slowly began to gain consciousness, causing her manager to gasp and rush over to her.

"Robin! You're awake! Very good, alright, we have to get you ready, you go on in like a minute!"

The manager rushed Robin, though first letting the poor girl gain her footing whilst explaining everything that's happened thus far, though only about half of it registering in Robin's brain.

"Wait, hold on… what time is it…?" Robin asked, still disoriented and slightly shaky.

"Uh… well, the show started 3 minutes ago" Her manager repeated, handing her a glass of cold water, which Robin drank almost immediately, causing her to feel a bit better than before.

"What do you mean 3 minutes ago?! I should be out there!" She panicked, standing up and jogging out of her dressing room and going to stand by the backstage curtain, from where she could see three figures singing and dancing.

Though they were a bit… sub-par compared to her, it was still entertaining to watch. Robin sighed in relief.

"Yes, Robin, I was telling you that your friends decided to help out and… well" The manager motioned to the stage, 'April 1st' slightly stumbling, though now the crowd cheering, enjoying the slightly chaotic performance.

Once the song ended, Robin went on stage, waving to her fans, and standing by the three of you.

"Hello! I apologise for the delay!" She began, looking back at her manager.

"As compensation… I would like to perform a song with my friends here!"

Thee three of you were already rather tired from performing the previous song and were now being dragged into performing another… you could only wonder what tragedy this would end in (though, ultimately, you three accepted anyway).

Most people's attention was turned to Robin now that she was up on stage, therefore less people noticed any minor mistakes and instead enjoyed the collaboration, hopefully to it's fullest.

Eventually, when the song ended, you left Robin alone on stage, allowing her to finish the rest of the concert as it should've been since the start.

Upon returning backstage, you were greeted with the sight of Robin's manager holding a conversation with Sunday, who then turned to look at you and waved you over.

By this point, March and Dan Heng had left, probably to change out of their costumes. You took off your own wig, placing it to the side and walked over to the manager and Sunday.

"I will presume you're both already acquainted. Now to the topic at hand… we were discussing your idiocy, most crowds at a concert don't appreciate such surprises."

Sunday chuckled "Whilst that may be rather harsh, I do agree. You got quite lucky with this crowd, Trailblazer."

"Yes, so you see, I just have too much rizz!" You exclaimed proudly, placing your hands on your hips.

The manager sighed, crossing her arms, momentarily looking behind you, at the stage where Robin was currently performing.

"Sure… well, don't get me wrong, I'm grateful you did that since it allowed Robin to regain her consciousness. I just hope we won't have a repeat of today."

"Hm… well, even if this happens again, I'm sure March and Dan Heng wouldn't mind doing this again~"

"Absolutely not."

"But you must admit, they certainly put on something of a show… enough to entertain the crowds, at least. I'm sure my sister is grateful though."

The three of you continued to talk for a while before you received a text message from Himeko saying that everyone should return to the Express.

You quickly finished up the conversation before bidding the two Halovians adieu and leaving. At least you'd have an interesting story to share with everyone now!

[forever-will-last]

New Upload Schedule!

So, it's been a while since I've updated. I've moved (yay!), had a bunch of other personal stuff going on (boo!), and literally today, the day I'm posting this, is my birthday! Yay for being 26, boo for having to move and becoming unemployed right before losing my health insurance! When will I meet the CEO of my dreams who will give me health insurance?

In the last couple of weeks, through a lot of internal debate as well as conversations with a close friend, I have reflected on my fics and the most sustainable way to continue writing going forward. Cadina Week, as fun as it was, proved to be extremely detrimental to my writing habits and accelerated my burnout much faster. (The timing was also pretty rough, as my personal life kinda hit the fan right after Cadina Week ended, and the entirety of July just kinda... Went down the drain, and ended with me moving, so, you know! Fun times lol)

I refuse to give up on these fics, but I've needed to give myself more realistic deadlines to upload, so I don't set the unrealistic expectation of myself to return to writing at a pre-Cadina Week speed, as I simply don't think that's possible right now. And, of course, on top of all of this, I started another WIP because the writing demon within me does not know the definition of SLOW DOWN. Luckily, this fic has a completely fleshed out plot, and at the time of posting this, is around halfway done in terms of chapters already. My initial plan was to drop it all at once, but as you may have seen by me dropping the first chapter today, that wasn't really a sustainable plan either. So now I'm doing weekly uploads for not only this new fic, but also, for my other fics (for the most part, as you'll see below).

So, without further ado, presenting my new uploading schedule!

MBAU Mondays: Expect an update to i thought i was a fool for no one (but baby i'm a fool for you) aka mbau (marching band au). This fic has 16 total chapters, so after 16 weeks, uploads on Mondays will stop. I'll reevaluate my upload schedule after that point to see if things need to be shifted around.

Wildcard Wednesdays: Most Wednesdays will have an update to Welcome to the Psych Ward! Some Wednesdays will have an update to sbau/one night with me and she's making vows (she's making vows). There might even occasionally be a random one shot or other crackfic idea outside of Psych Ward! I cannot dedicate a specific day to sbau since those chapters are simply significantly longer than anything else I write, and take considerably more time than one week if I'm writing sustainably. Please note that my primary focus is going to be on the other two fics, and Wildcard Wednesdays may not always happen if I need some extra time for the other fics!

Thousand Pics Thursdays: Expect an update to a thousand pictures in my mind; in a painting of the past on Thursdays! It's a lot slower than previous uploads, I know, but let's be real, that was never a fully sustainable writing/posting method. As I continue writing, if I find myself accumulating a large backlog of chapters for a thousand pics, I may occasionally have a Bonus Thousand Pics Tuesday. It entirely depends on how this new process goes as to whether or not that'll happen, but we'll see!

Thank you all so much for your patience, and I look forward to trying this out and hopefully getting back to regular uploads AND actually having a sustainable upload schedule!

[liz-allyn]

sugar and vice, pt 2 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: Peter makes a daring rescue to save Honey. Or is this a rescue at all? more shameless trope pining.

words: 5.5k

warnings: mob-typical violence. whump. hurt/comfort. bandaging wounds. ouchy hurt boo boo. lots of crying. references to assault. someone gets tortured. shameless forced proximity trope. imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions.

you're responsible for your own content consumption. but that being said, if you're too young to remember the ipod nano, this aint for you, chief.

Back to Part 1

Part 2

How many state capitals can you name?

Montgomery. Juneau. Phoenix. Little Rock.

She was running out of questions to distract herself. She’d already gone through listing all of Stephen King’s novels. All of the Presidents. All of the elements of the Periodic Table. She was running out of distractions.

Sacramento. Denver. Hartford. Dover.

She’d been to Delaware once for a funeral. The whole state was a graveyard. She was going to be killed and who would be at her funeral? Would her dark-eyed friend be the one to murder her?

Tampa. Atlanta. Honolulu. Fuck! Tallahassee, not Tampa… Montgomery. Juneau. Phoenix. Little Rock. Sacramento—

Would he make it quick? Would it be him or would it be one of the people from the car? Did he know the two men that took her from the train? Did he order them to take her? Then what was that gunfire? Why did it seem like they were running?

She didn’t know how much time had passed since she had been brought to a room, sat down, and left alone under the dark of the hood obscuring her vision. Heated but hushed voices echoed from the other side of a wall. They were too muffled to comprehend, but the frantic frustration was unmistakable.

She could barely make out the words.

“She’s a liability now, Parker! Where’s she gonna go?”

Her heart felt like it would burst from her chest. The conversation got quieter.

Montgomery. Juneau. Phoenix. Little Rock. Sacramento. Denver. 

The sound of a door lock startled her. Her body went rigid as a door opened wide. She swallowed hard, unable to get the image of the gun in Peter’s grip out of her mind. Heavy footsteps approached her. Her lip quivered beneath the hood. If the shot was coming, maybe it was better for it to come now. Maybe it was better if she didn’t see it coming.

The hood came off of her head, revealing a dark room only illuminated by a window. The night lights of the city skyline sparkled in the distance. She was on a sofa—a loveseat facing a desk. As far as she could tell, she was in some sort of office or study. And crouched down in front of her, was her dangerous friend.

Peter held his hands up in a placating manner, letting the hood drop to the floor. “Don’t cry, Honey. It’s just me.”

The sweetness of his voice made her heart beat faster. She cursed the treacherous bitch for allowing that to happen, after everything.

Just him. As if that was supposed to mean anything. Is he Peter, or is he Ben? Does it matter which one he’d tell her? And what other option did she have to respond, other than crying? Her mouth was still taped shut.

He studied her features in a way that made her squirm. His face was solemn as he considered her. He huffed a sigh. “I know you don’t have any reason to trust me,” he declared in an apologetic tone. His cocoa eyes glistened with regret. “You’re probably feelin’ angry with me right now. I get that. You’ve been nothin’ but sweet to me and I... I—” 

He stopped short of finishing the sentence as if his jaw locked up. A wrinkle creased his brow. He glanced down at the floor, then looked back up at her. “I’m gonna ask you to do somethin’ for me,” he began. “You don’t have any reason to owe me anything, I see that, I do. I don’t have the right to ask. But I’m still gonna ask.”

A hand came up to rub the back of his neck. The gesture made him seem more anxious, more boyish. Not the same man that marched into the garage holding a gun. Not the same man that ordered his man to blindfold her.

“You’ve always been patient with me,” he continued, dancing around a topic he didn’t want to address. “Even when I’m not my best. I need you to be patient with me now. Take a chance on me, Honey.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She really wished it wouldn’t do that.

He gazed at her, lowering his voice to an even more soothing tone. He emanated calm and control. “I’m gonna help you off the sofa, then we’re gonna leave this room,” he said. “We’re goin’ to the last door at the end of the hallway, okay? Nod if you understand.”

She stared at him like a deer in the crosshairs. After a moment, she nodded.

“Okay, good,” he replied. He reached for her. “Easy now.”

He put his hands around her upper arms and attempted to lift her weight from beneath her shoulders. A flash of pain erupted like her deltoids were on fire, and she winced and whimpered behind the tape.

Immediately, he pulled back his hands with a sour look. An edge of irritation returned to his eyes, in a way she’d remembered from the coffee shop when those goons showed up, except now they were alone and that look was rendered at her. Or so she thought.

Tears welling up again, she avoided his gaze. She sank further into the couch, as if that was even possible, and shook like a leaf. He stood before her wordlessly. She could only hear a heavy exhale through flared nostrils.

Seconds passed, then Peter bent at the waist, placing his hands on her hips. She shuddered at the pressure, the warmth and width of his hands on the crest of her hips. He held her in a steady grip, bringing her to her feet, this time with less pain. 

Upon standing, she looked up and locked eyes with him. It stilled his motion, and he stood with her pressed up against his chest, looking down at her with darkening eyes. His body was solid mass through his white dress shirt. It occurred to her that she’d never seen him without a coat before. Her heart was fluttering, and she wondered if he could feel it. She felt suddenly pliant, legs turning into rubber. 

Dizzy, she wavered a bit, blinking her eyes rapidly. It could’ve been the adrenaline spiking again, building pressure rising up beneath her skin. Perhaps it was her lack of real food since her distant lunch. Perhaps it was heat stroke, the way his gaze burned into hers.

He gripped her tighter. Swallowed hard.

Reluctantly, he released his hold, moving a hand to her lower back. “C’mon.”

She gulped. Hesitantly, she let him lead her to the door. Once they went through the doorway, he escorted her down the hall just as he had said. It was dark, but she could see light from beneath the closed door at the end of the hall.

Her boots felt heavy again. Her mind was screaming at her to run, but where would she go? 

“S’okay,” he stated softly, reading the slowing of her steps for what it was. “Almost there.”

He brought her to the solid door, twisting the handle and opening it. The only thing her brain could register was a massive king-sized bed in the middle of the room. She pushed back on his palm, attempting to wrench away from him. He grabbed her from behind, his arms holding her in place.

“Easy, easy, s’okay,” he tutted. 

But she was short-circuiting. Her mind was filled with violent images, clouding her sense of reason. A shriek crawled up her throat, desperately clawing at the adhesive of the duct tape over her mouth. 

“Hey, s’okay, it’s okay!”  He was holding her against the brick wall of his chest again. She shook her head desperately, struggling to break free to no avail. She could feel his heartbeat against her back. 

He pressed his cheek against her temple, his arms pulling her in with crushing strength that lifted her feet from the floor. “Enough!” he snapped, with a shockingly harsh tone. 

The simple admonishment made her go limp. She sobbed desperately.

His head fell backward and he let out a long sigh, frustration evident within him. He softened his grip, and instead of pinning her, it felt much more like an embrace. He bent his neck and his lips went to her temple again, his breath hot on her skin.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he breathed into her hair. She felt the slow rise and fall from his chest. The kindness had returned to his voice. He took another deep breath, and she felt it reverberate in her. “No one is gonna hurt you,” he declared, more authoritative this time. She matched her next breath to his. 

They stood in silence for another few seconds. Her gaze traveled from the bed to the expanse of the room. The dark colors and modern accents. The yellow source of tungsten light spilled from an open doorway. 

“Now we’re gonna walk forward. Into the bathroom.”

He began to walk forward, and her feet moved in accordance. After the first few concordant steps, he loosened his grip on her. She felt the absence of his body heat as they stepped onto a tiled floor, turning a corner to a grand bathroom bigger than her meager apartment bedroom.

It was stunning; a mix of classic beauty and masculinity. Adorned with black marble, gold fixtures, and subway tile. Her eyes soaked up the details with an unintentional gasp. Inappropriately, she wished for her phone to save the image to the Pinterest board of her bathroom dreams.

“It’s okay,” he gently reminded her. Hearing his voice pulled her back to her reality. Her eyes snapped over her shoulder, up to him, then back forward as they approached a freestanding clawfoot tub filled with steaming water.

Her feet got heavy again and he turned her to face him. She looked up at him with a face full of confusion and betrayal. It only seemed to sour him further.

“I need you to trust me, remember?” Peter said to her. “I’m gonna take off the tape, but I need you to get in the water first.”

She felt her head shaking. Tears streaming.

“It’s the tape,” he explained. “Your skin is already reacting to it. If I try to pull it off now, it’ll take your skin with it.” She quirked a brow up at him. “We’re gonna use the soapy water to soak the tape on your wrists. The stuff on your mouth, I have a solvent for.”

She blinked, looked at the water, and back up to him.

“You don’t have to undress or anything,” he answered, again reading her mind with stunning accuracy. “We can take off your boots and you can step right in if you don’t mind getting your clothes wet.” She watched the Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “I’m not gonna try anything,” he whispered quietly, “I swear.”

She lost herself in his eyes again. She studied the honey of his irises, a golden glow enhanced by the vanity lamps. She thought of caramel and chocolate and bourbon. And the tang of oranges, the smokey smell and flavor of an Old Fashioned she had three years ago at The Flatiron Room on an otherwise disappointing date—

“You with me?” he spoke so softly it could be a croon. Brought his hands up and she felt the rough pads of his thumbs brushing away her tears.

Her eyelashes fluttered closed at the sensation. That dizzy feeling hit her again, and she tried to swallow it down. When her eyes opened, she saw her friend staring back at her, the shadow of a smile adorning his face.

She spent too long gazing up at him like he was some sort of Prince Charming. Composing herself, she straightened and gave him a nod.

Having gathered her meaning, he responded with a subtle smirk, before putting it away. Slowly, he lowered himself to his knees in front of her, never breaking eye contact. The action made her stomach weak. Made her avert her eyes. He deftly began untying the laces of her boots and braced her lower back to pull off her shoes. 

Though he didn’t request it, she peeled her wool socks off next. She could have wet jeans and a wet shirt, but wet socks made her skin crawl. Once her bare feet were on the tiled floor, he came to a stand. He placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her as she stepped into the deep tub. 

The warm water felt instantly soothing as she lowered herself into it. Her hands prickled with the sensation of the hot water reheating her abused limbs. He was right about her skin—she hissed at an immediate sting where the tape was. The thought of ripping off the duct tape over her mouth as fast as possible seemed more unpleasant.

She sat down with arms bound behind her, looking up at him as he sat beside the tub.

“The soap’s gonna help dissolve the adhesive,” he explained, pulling up a tray within his reach. A mass of dry cotton balls, cotton swabs, and gauze was neatly organized on it, next to several bottles of solution. It was bizarrely efficient. It made her wonder how many times he’d done this before.

He went to work, rolling up the arms of his sleeves up to his elbows. She pulled her eyes away from the sight of his toned forearms. 

His fingers went to her face and she couldn’t help but flinch. He made note of it, lips pursed into a straight line, but said nothing. Slower, he reached for her hairline and a razor-sharp sting of her flesh reminded her that she had taken at least one good hit to the face. 

His burnt-auburn eyes were now focused, a line forming in his brow as he studied a blood-crusted cut she couldn’t see. 

“This one’s deep,” he said with a frown. “It’ll need liquid stitches. I’mma take care of this first before it gets worse.” His hands left her sensitive flesh as he came to a stand, moving across the bathroom into a medicine cabinet where more first-aid supplies were located. 

While his back was turned, she rolled her eyes in frustration. The tape on her mouth was clearly the more pressing issue. 

“Can you bear with me a couple of minutes before I take the tape off?” he asked perceptively. It was starting to get creepy. He sat down beside her again. “Just relax. It’ll be easier to do it now.” He dabbed a cotton ball with alcohol. “And it’ll be harder for you to bite me.”

Her eyes darted to his face, her body tensing. She had bitten one of her captors hard enough to draw blood. He busied himself with cleaning and dressing the wound while she pondered the possibility that Peter had been behind her kidnapping earlier in the evening.

That neck-less, ginger bastard – Katz? – dragged her off the train without any regard for whether or not she felt safe. Particularly right before he knocked her out. Did he work for Peter? She hadn’t seen his face since.

“Your heart’s racing,” he informed her, breaking her chain of thought. He swallowed hard, a solemn look plastered firmly on his face. “I wasn’t lying when I said no one was going to hurt you.” His eyes rested on the wound as he delicately pinched her flesh together. “Not again,” he sighed, disappointed.

A few seconds passed as he carefully coated the cut in the liquid stitch solution. He looked pained, increasingly irritated. “I’m sorry about all this,” he blurted out. “I-I never shoulda come back to see you. I... I-I’m sorry about everything. Never meant for any of this to happen.” His sad eyes found hers. “‘Sorry’ doesn’t mean much, I know. But I hope you believe me.”

She stared. Considering. Decided that she did. She had to. Tied up, sitting waist-deep in this strange man’s bathtub, she had nothing else but her hope.

He took a cotton swab and dipped it in a jar of pristine petroleum jelly. One hand delicately lifted her chin, angling her face upward toward him, as he took a corner of the tape at her mouth and began to work the petroleum beneath the strip. He meticulously followed that action with a warm, wet compress, and then a cotton ball of isopropyl alcohol. The tape hurt as it slowly gave way, but less than it could’ve. 

The peaceful silence gave her time for her brain to slow down. Time to think. Time to plan. Time to question those plans. Question her judgment.

“Alright, almost done,” he said, then gave a small tug on the tape. The moment her lips were unsealed she took a deep breath. She hadn’t realized how much her breathing had been restricted. 

Peter reached back for her with a square of medical-grade adhesive remover. 

“Don’t touch me,” she spat, jerking her head out of his reach. He froze immediately, lifting his hands away where she could see them. Behind her, she pulled and tugged on the duct tape, the glue now having partially dissolved. She winced as she pulled her wrists apart.

“I was gonna get to that—”

She bit down on a yelp at the burn of the tape ripping off, taking bits of hair and drops of blood with it. She pulled her arms in front of her, revealing angry red welts on her wrists. Her shoulders felt like a stretched-out rubber band, tender to each movement. 

“Okay,” he nodded bitterly, frustration poking through. “Tape’s off. You’re bleeding. Well done—”

“Stay away from me!” she barked. She scooted back as far as she could away from him in the bathtub. Her eyes were wide and wild, like she really could bite him at any moment. He sat back on his ankles, staring at her. Displeased. 

“Take it easy,” he softly ordered, cool as ever.

“I-I don’t know who you are or-or what you’re into,” she babbled frantically. “But you—you better lemme go!” She panted heavily, words flowing out of her mouth, “My-my boyfriend is a cop! He tracks my phone. He’ll know I didn’t come home and-and when he turns on the tracker, he’ll see that I’m here... and he’ll bring fifty cops with him!”

Peter stared at her flatly, raising a brow. It was clear by his reaction that he wasn’t impressed. “Fifty?” he repeated, deadpan. “That’s a lot. Where’re they gonna park?”

“I’m serious!” she growled.

“Oh, yea-yeah, I know,” Peter nodded, pulling himself into a crouch at the tub. “This boyfriend of yours,” he added, swallowing grit as he said it, “he got a name?”

She blinked. “Jefferson.”

“Jefferson?”

“Scott.”

“Is it Scott or is it Jefferson? Is it Jefferson Scott?”

His mocking tone filled her with a flash of anger. She seethed, swearing at herself not to cry again. “Let me go!” she demanded with a glare. “And I promise, he won’t kill you when he finds me!”

The humor evaporated from his eyes like a droplet of water in a frying pan. “A promise?” Peter repeated, his cocky smile fading. He went motionless. Eyes dark. A chill shot down her spine. “Where was ‘Jefferson’ when Fisk’s men grabbed you tonight?” She swallowed hard. Refused to blink. “Really coulda used his help,” he bit off.

Her heart was beating faster than before. Pounding like a kickdrum beneath her ribs. His blackened eyes narrowed on her. “Do you have any idea,” he questioned bitterly, “what they would’ve done t’ya? If I hadn’t gotten there first?” 

The calm tone of his overt implications made her queasy again. He cocked his head to the side, waiting for a reply. 

She gulped. Steadied her voice. “Who's to say they don’t work for you?” 

“They don’t work for me,” Peter declared, ice in his eyes. 

“You expect me to believe—”

“They don’t work for me,” he repeated, as serious as a heart attack, “because I don’t employ assholes who beat on women.” He leaned forward, his chest puffing up, his words coming out in a low hiss. “Because if I want something done, I do it myself. Especially when it comes to protecting what’s mine.” His eyes narrowed, “And we both know you don’t have a boyfriend.” 

She blinked at him, dumbstruck. Peter declared through gritted teeth, “You could send fifty cops or fifty-thousand. If someone took my girl, I’d get there first. And there’s not a damn thing you could say to keep me from rippin’ him apart.”

She shifted backward, arms wrapped tightly around her body, stunned by the switch in demeanor. He sat across from her, quietly glaring, chest heaving with pent-up rage. Her throat felt tight. Her pulse pounded in her neck.

Seconds passed as they gazed at each other in a stalemate. He was the first to look away, his breathing conscientiously slowing down. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, keeping his head turned away from her sight.

“Don’t lie to me,” Peter said, finally. “Ever.” He looked up at her, eyes a bit softer. “It’s very important that you never lie to me. When people lie to me, it puts me at a disadvantage. Makes it harder for me to protect the people I care about.” He sniffed, stowing his emotional baggage from earlier. “So please,” he gently requested, “don’t lie.”

He kept his eyes downward as if he was more interested in the state of the grout. She had witnessed him rear up like a cobra and now he was slinking away, sheepishly hiding from her gaze. 

There was that word again — protection. His focus is protecting the people he cares about. Protecting what’s his. She eyed him carefully, her muscles relaxing a bit. This was happening because she was a threat to him. Did that mean in some way, she had power over him? 

He wiped his nose with his forearm, still avoiding her eyes. “You hurt anywhere else?” She blinked up at him, confused. Her silence made him meet her gaze again, and this time the sympathy and remorse had returned. “Anywhere I can’t see?”

She stiffened once she caught his meaning. Breaking eye contact, she gazed down at the tiny bubbles coating the surface of the water. “Um... no.” She answered as honestly as she could. “I don’t... I don’t think so.” The statement felt like a lump in her throat. She felt her eyes burn again, and she angrily dared her body to defy her again. She couldn’t handle it.

“Okay,” he nodded. After a moment, he came to a quick stand. His orders flowed more formally. “There are towels over here. There’s a robe on the door. Cat’s gettin’ you some clothes. Should be here soon. Leave the wet stuff on the edge of the tub. When you’re done in here, come outside of the bedroom. I’ve got one more thing I need from you tonight, Honey.”

He turned on the leather sole of his heel and disappeared from her sight, as fast as ever. She sat in the rapidly cooling water of the tub, tenderly rubbing the swollen flesh of her wrists. She listened to his footsteps diminish. The door slammed, a bit too forcefully.

Alone, finally, she allowed herself to cry again.

About fifteen minutes after being left alone, she emerged from the main bedroom with a thick white terry robe blanketing her. With nothing but her thoughts and growing exhaustion, she decided not to keep Peter waiting too long. She’d completed each task on his list, as a good houseguest should. Or whatever she was.

She found him leaning back against the wall in the darkened hallway, hands in his pockets, musing quietly.  He turned to look at her with a much calmer mood. Both of them cooled off from their earlier spat, but an awkwardness remained. An elephant in the room neither of them wanted to address.

“C’mere,” Peter beckoned, jerking his head down the hall. “I wanna show you something.” He turned and approached a flight of stairs, descending it. She had no other option but to follow. 

They reached the main level of the residence where she took in the sight of an open-floor living room and kitchen surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows. Though it was night, this was the most well-lit area she had seen. It was spotless, and carried the same modern, refined-industrial aesthetic that she saw in the bathroom. 

She recognized the lanky teenager on the couch, sitting with arms crossed, head bobbing to music blaring out of over-the-ear headphones. Miles sat quietly in his own world, brow furrowed, as he focused on the beat of the music. 

Tapping away at her smartphone, the silver-haired woman from the car ride paced idly. She was even more gorgeous in person. Peter approached her, hands in his pockets, and nodded in Miles’ direction.

“What, is it time for a siesta?” Peter muttered disapprovingly.

The woman gave him a go-to-hell look. “Lay off, will ya? You know how he gets.”

“We need to keep our eyes open,” Peter responded grimly. “That means on alert, Felicia.”

“Jesus Christ, Parker,” she groaned with a petulant sigh. “Seriously?” The woman, Felicia, looked up incredulously at their houseguest, then back to her boss. “What happened to discretion? You wanna give her my social security number, too?”

“Where’s O’Hara?” Peter replied.

She rolled her eyes, dropping her arms. “Fuck it, then. In the basement with Brock. That’s Eddie Brock, if anyone here is taking notes for the FBI.” She turned, minding her phone again. “If you need me, I’ll be keepin’ my eyes open, with your credit card, waiting for the Postmates guy to deliver your lady friend a new wardrobe.” 

Peter rolled his eyes with a light scoff.

“And just for that, I’m buying myself my Christmas present from Fendi,” she called back, a deadpan tone. “Thanks, Boss. You really shouldn’t have.” 

Peter glanced over at his Honey, who was curiously watching the familial interaction in silence. He jerked his chin again, approaching a metal door frame near the foyer. “This way.”

He tapped a button on the wall, calling up an elevator. She shuffled uncomfortably on her bare feet, but then followed him into the tiny space. They stood together in silence as the elevator descended. 

Once it opened, they were in a dark, dingy, brick-laid fortress, a stark contrast from the exquisite rooms above. He stepped out of the elevator, and hesitantly, she followed, wishing she’d put on her boots. 

The space felt claustrophobic, littered with dust-covered junk. Mostly paper boxes. There was a table with an old computer that looked at least 30 years old, surrounded by glass beakers and antiquated lab equipment. She spotted a retro green chalkboard on castors, half-shrouded in a tarp. 

As much distance as she wanted to put between herself and Peter, she also crowded at his back. She felt cobwebs brushing her ankles, and the sensation made her want to fold herself up like origami.

They turned a corner and she froze. Mouth agape with horror. 

Bound and gagged in the middle of the basement was Katz. The man looked rough. Barely conscious. His face was bruised, bloodied, and jagged, the bones having been broken and rearranged. On either side, Miguel and another thick mass of man—Eddie Brock for anyone taking notes for the FBI—stood by. She watched Eddie anxiously as he wiped his hands with a blood-stained shop rag.

The sight of tortured man made her gag. Tears sprang to her eyes as she glanced away in terror.

“S’Okay,” Peter tutted, taking her by the shoulders and keeping her back to their tortured captive. She was grateful for that kindness, as it spared her the sight of the half-dead man.

“Remember I told you that you could trust me?” Peter asked, tilting his head towards her. She was gasping. Sucked in air, like a fish out of water. “Honey, look at me.” 

Her stomach quaked and she worried that she’d vomit. Despite this, she looked up at him. Once he had her attention, he went on. 

“This man works for somebody very dangerous,” he explained slowly. “He had direct orders to kidnap you and take you to one of his places. A mechanic’s shop near the docks on the Lower East Side that he uses for business. Once they had you there, he and a bunch of his friends were supposed to hurt you.”

Her chest heaved violently, tears flooding her vision. She shook her head and tried looking away. Felt faint. Like she was going to pass out. Gently, Peter hooked his fingertips beneath her chin, bringing her gaze to his.

“They were ordered to take pictures,” he softly added, more gentle with his choice of words, “and send them to me.” A heartbroken sob escaped her lips and he winced, as if the sound alone caused him physical pain. “Listen, listen, listen,” he cooed, shushing her. 

He dipped his head, leaning his forehead against hers. It was intimate. Too close for the relationship that they had, but at the same time, she was starving for it. The sensation of his warm skin against hers, the heat of his lungs ghosting on her face—they worked to ground her. She focused on what was happening and not what could have happened.

“I never got any pictures,” Peter explained tenderly. “He says they never got that far.” She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, her chin quivering. She leaned into the touch of his thumb gently stroking her jaw. When she could open her eyes again, she found his. His cocoa orbs gazing down at her compassionately. 

“Remember what I said about lies?” he asked with a kind voice. “Remember I asked you never to lie to me?”

Another quiet sob whimpered out. She nodded her head.

“Tell me the truth now, Honey,” he said. He lifted his forehead, gazing into her soul. “Is that the man that hit you?”

She shuddered at the memory. Terror gripping her. Heart pounding.

“Words, Honey,” he tutted gently. “I need you to say it. Tell me the truth.”

“Yes,” she whimpered in reply. She brought her hands up to cover her face, but he wouldn’t allow it. 

“Good girl,” he answered. “You don’t need to hide.”

The tears kept coming. “I can’t.... I can’t—”

“S’okay, we’re almost done,” he cooed, bringing a hand up to stroke her hair. “Now this part’s really important. I want you to think. I don’t want you to be afraid. Just think.” 

She cried even harder. Her body swayed. She felt like a lone tree being pummeled by a hurricane. As much as she wanted to collapse, he held her upright. “Please,” she begged, but she wasn’t sure what for. “I don’t want... I can’t...”

He wrapped his hands around her cheeks, his fingers reaching around her head. “Just look at me, Honey,” he replied. 

Sniffing hard, she complied. He looked at her with an expression she couldn’t decode. It was a blend of anger, sadness, and pain all at once. He swallowed hard, as if he was trying to steady himself.

“Tell me the truth,” he said with a voice void of its own breath. “Did this man, or any of the other men, hurt you?” She shook her head rapidly. “Did they touch you?”

“No,” she sobbed.

“Don’t lie—”

“No!” she shouted desperately. 

He exhaled slowly, letting out a breath he’d been holding. “Good,” he nodded, seeming to relax. His hands rubbed her arms, taking extra care around her shoulders. “That’s good.”

“Boss,” a voice called from behind them. She looked beyond Peter to see Miles standing anxiously near the elevator entrance. He wore a hollow expression. Breathed through his mouth only. “You think she could use some sleep?”

Peter gazed at the younger man, a mixture of grief and gratitude. “Yeah,” he nodded, blinking away tears that had begun to form at his lashes. “That’s a good idea. Take her upstairs, wouldya?”

Miles nodded once, and stepped forward. Hesitantly, Peter let go. Honey shot out of his arms like a spooked cat, clinging to Miles’ chest and burying her face there. Vicious sobs racked through her body. Miles placed a hand on her back and led her back out of the basement.

Peter watched her go sadly. Didn’t turn away until he heard the elevator doors close.

“So,” Eddie’s deep voice chimed in, fixing his grim blue-green eyes on Peter. “What now?”

Both Miguel and Eddie watched the tense curve of Peter’s shoulders. The balling of his fists. 

“Hammer,” he replied, voice as dark as night. Peter turned and stalked toward the captive. He snatched a bloodied hammer off a workbench nearby. Eyes widening with fear, Katz began to jerk in his seat, pulling desperately on his restraints. 

“You should be grateful, Nicky,” Peter sneered, acid in his voice. “This coulda gone another way.” He loomed over the captive, eyes blacker than oil, nostrils flaring. He gripped the handle so hard, it’s a wonder it didn’t snap in his hand.

“If I found out you were lyin’ to me,” Peter said, vengeance coating his voice, “I woulda gone for the pruning shears.”

Continue to Part 3

Back to Part 1.

A/N - Reblog to be tagged.

Every time you reblog, it supports free fandom writing. Thank you for your support!

[nine-blessed-hero]

Talis and the Illicit Mage

(or) Article 3 - Apprentices are Forbidden from Exiting University Grounds after Dark

Universe: TESIV: Oblivion CW: None Words: 355 Context: Written for the TES Summer Fest prompt: Forbidden Tagging: @tes-summer-fest, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary

The bell chimed, letting in a gust of frigid air as the door opened. The day's light had disappeared over an hour ago, leaden clouds smothering even Masser's luminousness, leaving the guttering tallow to shed smokey orange flickering through the bakery, masking its usual pleasant, bready scent. Through the distorted glass of the display cabinet, where Talis knelt stocking up the freshly baked goods, he saw a tall figure in a long outfit enter the shop, blue and greens melding together. "Good afternoon, Magister," Rindir said. "What can I get for you?" The figure cleared their throat, then spoke in an overly plummy accent "Good afternoon. I was wondering if you had any Croline au Pomme." "Certainly–" "I'm afraid the lady won't be having anything," Talis said, shooting upright, "because the lady shouldn't be here."

His tray of pastries abandoned, Talis marched around the counter, catching the dunmer magister by her wrist and dragging her towards the back stairs. "Ow! Talis, that hurts…" Talis let go and looked into the cobalt face of the other mer, her normally puckish expression drooping into a moue. "What are you doing here, Sal?" he asked. "You're breaking so many rules! You know First Years aren't allowed out of the University grounds after dark, nor are they allowed into the City without an escort of a Third Year or higher–" "Memememurr," Salora wittered petulantly. "So I snuck out. Stop worrying so much, Tal. I can sneak back in. Tacher showed me this trick with paint-brushes–" "That is not the point!" Talis threw his hands up. "Mama wrote me. She told me what the disciplinary board said. You're supposed to be being a model student not… sneaking out just because you aren't getting your sweet fix. We have to get you back in, right now, before anyone notices you're gone." Salora fluttered her eyelashes. "Can't I have just one apple Croline? Please?" Talis gave a grumpy growl. "Fine. One." Salora's face lit up, only to fall again when Talis said, "I'll bring it over tomorrow with the Uni's usual order." "Boo, you're no fun." "Pull your hood up, we're leaving."

[just-an-enby-lemon]

DnD Night at Arkham

[They started it on Arkham as a form of group therapy and kept it after they scaped but on a special room on the Iceberg Lounge. Catwoman and Penguin entered later (via Harley and Riddler insidtence respectivaly) and Joker was banned because he kept geting Nat 20s in all his rolls]

.

Riddler: You rescue the hostage. He is a simple human lumberjack. He offers you wood as a payment.

Poison Ivvy: Is the wood ethically sourced?

Riddler: He is a human lumberjack in a medieval scenario I don't think he even knows what ethically sourced wood is.

Poison Ivvy: I cast poison spray on his face. How dare he hurt the trees!

Riddler: Let me roll... You know what, no, he is a normal middle aged lumberjack. He just dies.

Penguin: NO! I wanted that wood! I could have sold it!!

Catwoman: Didn't he had some important information? Pam?!

Poison Ivvy: Well he should had ethically sourced his wood!

Penguin: Edward bring him back right now!

Riddler: I can't just bring him back! Pamela killed him. You should have tried to stop her. Do not blame me, I'm just the DM. By the way your next encounter are his wife and kids.

-

Scarecrow: I cast fear!

Riddler: *rolls dice multiple times* The soldiers fail their test. They are terrifield.

Scarecrow: Good. What are they seeing? What is their fear reaction? How is their heart rate?

Riddler: That's it! Every single time you cast fear you force me to do a ridiculously long description of their reactions no one else cares about. *the other Rogues agree* Please stop.

Scarecrow: People react to fear differently and afraid of different things, Edward, and is my mission to study it.

Riddler: They all see a monster and run.

Scarecrow: That's unrealistic. Not a single one paralyzes? No one screams? They all have the same monster as their biggest fears? Did they had a similar traumatic experience? But even so it wouldn't explain they all having the same reaction. Honestly, that's truly not how real people act.

Riddler: They aren't REAL, Crane. They are FAKE PEOPLE I just MADE UP. They act in any way I want.

Scarecrow: Oh so they are a reflection of your fear of losing control!

Riddler: You keep that and you're out.

Scarecrow: So if I just described their fears and reactions would it make you anxious because you lost control over your "fake people".

Riddler: Anyway is Two-Face's turn. Also Crane you characther is poisoned. He acidentaly steped in a poisonous plant while trying to analyse the soldiers fears.

Scarecrow: That's not fair.

Riddler: Two-Face?

.

Harley: Can I cast a illusion spell to pretend to be his dead wife?

Riddler: I'm interresed. Make your roll.

Mr. Freeze: Don't do that. It's too cruel, this poor man deserves better.

Two-Face: He separated our group in different torment chambers and he is trying to kill us!

Mr. Freeze: But his dead wife! He clearly loves her still and loves her soo much.

Catwoman: I think that's the point...

Riddler: It's up to Harley.

Harley: Does he has a dead daughter?

Riddler: Does he?

Harley: *rolls* NAT 20!

Riddler: He does. He loved her even more than his wife.

Harley: I pretend to be his dead daugther.

Mr. Freeze: See way less cruel.

.

Riddler: *starts giggling*

Two-Face: ugh.

Harley: oh no.

Penguin: Is another puzzle maze isn't it?

Catwoman: Please don't be another puzzle maze.

Riddler: Is not a puzzle maze!

*everyone celebrates*

Riddler: You guys see yourselfs trapped in a beutifull, amazing, perfectly done... death trap! : )

*everyone boos*

.

MadHatter: Can I kiddnap his kid, Dormouse?

Riddler: You can?????!

Catwoman: Why? Why do you want to kiddnap the royal's guard kid?

MadHatter: She has a Cheshire cat.

Scarecrow: Is not a Cheshire Cat is just a cat called Cheshire.

MadHatter: Same thing, March Hare.

Harley: Kiddnap the cat!

MadHatter: But than she'll be alone. If I take booth of them, they will be together as Alice and the Cheshire Cat. She'll be ny daugther and we will be a Woonderland family.

Poison Ivvy: Her name is Ophelia.

MadHatter: If I succeed in kidnapping her can I change her name, Dormouse?

Riddler: I supose?

Two-Face: Don't fucking encourage him, Nygma!

.

Two-Face: I attack the sphinx with my sword of shadows. *rolls the dice* Dammit Nat 1.

Riddler: Your paladin tries to attack the sphinxs, his sword does no damage. The sphinxs smiles cruely. How dare you try to solve matters of the mind with muscles??? YOU TRULY ARE ALL BRAWL AND NO BRAINS! YOU ARE THROWED AGAINST THE WALL. YOUR HP DROPS TO ONE. NOW YOUR ONLY CHANCE IS TO SOLVE THE IMPOSSIBLE RIDDLE. HOW DARE YOUR MORAL PALADIN OF JUSTICE THINK HE COULD JUST PUNCH ME AWAY? YOU HAVE NO CHANCE DARK NIGHT! NO CHANCE AT ALL AHAHAHA. TODAY IS THE END OF BATMAN AHAHAHAHA *everyone looks at Riddler* *he blushes* i mean ... is harley's turn...

.

Two-Face: I steal his sword. I finally have two swords!

Harley: But both need two hands to use.

Two-Face: Perfection.

[rocksinmuffin]

Now I’ve gotta ask for Ace and Deuce being cockblocked by Grim (not to mention each other) and no one ever being able to make a move on MC.

I belive this ask is in response to this post I made and I could not resist.

~*~

Deuce stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, eyes narrowed and lips set in a thin line. Today’s the day, he tells himself. “Today’s the day I’m going to confess my feelings.”

“Are you really psyching yourself up to tell the prefect you like them?” Ace gives Deuce an unimpressed look. “Cringe.”

“It’s not cringe!!!” he shouts back, cheeks bright red. “And who said I was confessing to the prefect?”

Ace rolls his eyes. “Everyone knows you have a crush on them. It’s not subtle. Not that it matters. You don’t have a chance with them.”

“Whatever, jerk. How would you even know?”

Ace cocks his head to the side, lips curling into a wicked smirk. “Because they’re going to be too busy falling head over heels for me.”

Ace looks so confident it makes Deuce’s heart clench in fear. Is it possible you already like Ace? After all, Ace is charming. Grades aside, he does well in most things without even trying. What if he sweeps you off your feet just as effortlessly?

But then Deuce feels a sense of warm resolve splash over him like a wave. He’s not going to give up. Not on this. Not on you. Because just the chance of being with you is something worth fighting for, tooth and nail. If you don’t choose him, he’ll understand and he won’t hold it against you, but he’s not going to throw in the towel before the fight has even begun.

Deuce looks at Ace with fire burning in his eyes, fist clenched and held up in front of his chest. I won’t lose to you, he thinks, but he must say it out loud because Ace laughs, a smile stretched from ear to ear that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I’ll take that bet. First one to score a date with the prefect, wins. Loser has to back off and admit defeat. Deal?”

Ace holds out his hand and Deuce takes it without any hesitation, grip firm as they shake on it.

~*~

Ace will be the first to say that he’s the last person anyone should make a bet with because he does not play fair.

Winning is the only thing that matters in the end. What good is sticking to your morals and playing by the rules if you end up losing? If you really want to win then that should mean you’d be willing to do anything to end up on top, even if it means getting your hands a little dirty. If you’re not willing to do that then maybe winning—and what comes with it—doesn’t mean as much to you as you think it did.

But you? Well, you mean the world to Ace.

Deuce has nothing to say to him when they leave the dorm and head for their first class. Just keeps that stupid determined look on his face as he marches forward. That’s fine with Ace. Because while Deuce is so focused on his own thing, Ace can think of ways to sabotage it.

It’s obvious he’s trying to hide it but Deuce isn’t exactly subtle about the little plastic food container he’s carrying under his arm. And Ace knows that Deuce has been going to Trey after classes for help studying. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

So Deuce is planning to confess to you with the help of some home-baked goodies he made. Gag. But, embarrassing as that is, having something physical to gift you means Deuce is less likely to back out than if it was just a verbal confession. And offering you a gift could make Ace look bad for going to you empty-handed.

Deuce might think he has the upper hand, but he probably wasn’t counting on Ace figuring out his plan. Now all Ace needs to do is figure out how to use this to his advantage.

~*~

The opportunity comes at lunch time.

“I’m so hungry I’m going to collapse,” Grim whines, face planting against the cafeteria table, muffling his words . “Minion, get me that tuna melt I like.”

“Uh-huh,” you grunt, unamused. “What are the magic words?”

“Bippity bobbity boo?”

You open your mouth to say something, stop, then shrug. “Anyone else buying lunch?”

Deuce shakes his head, lips set in a thin line and eyes sharp as he stares down at his plastic bin filled with goodies. He doesn’t say anything. It’s obvious he’s still trying to mentally psych himself up.

You raise an eyebrow but otherwise pay his oddness little mind before turning to Ace. “How about you?”

“Nah,” Ace waves you off, “Not hungry.”

You raise another incredulous eyebrow but don’t push the issue. “Fine, I’ll wait in line by myself then.”

“Try not to get your lunch money stolen on the way, nerd,” Ace teases.

You lift your middle finger in the air as you walk off.

“I don’t think I’m going to last” Grim whines words slightly muffled where his mouth is pressed flat to the table’s surface. “If I don’t get any food in me in the next ten seconds I’m gonna die.”

“Why don’t you just ask Deuce for some of the food he’s been hoarding to himself all this time,” Ace helpfully suggests, eyes wicked and smirk much too pleased with himself.

At the mention of food, Grim perks up in his seat. He turns to Deuce, fuzzy brows furrowed and eyes burning as he scowls. “Is that true? Have you been holding out on us?!”

“What?” Deuce blinks, drawn out of his thoughts for the first time all afternoon.

“What do you mean what?” Ace feigns an annoyed expression. “You just gonna pretend you don’t have enough cookies on you to feed our whole dorm?”

Deuce’s eyes widen. “How did you know I made cookies?”

“Cookies? Why didn’t you say so?!” Grim leaps on the table and swipes the plastic box, peeling off the lid before Deuce can even blink. “They look kinda wonky but they smell okay at least.”

“They don’t look wonky!” Deuce shouts, cheeks pink with either anger or embarrassment. His angry expression shifts to worry as he looks back at the container. “…do they?”

Grim pulls a short bread cookie out of the box that is likely supposed to be shaped like a heart, however, it’s lumpy and asymmetrical and the sprinkles look like they were applied by a kindergartener. It’s one of the most pathetic homemade creations that Ace has ever seen in his life and exactly the kind of pathetic display that would probably make you incredibly grateful and emotional because you are so endearingly stupid and sentimental.

Ace and Deuce watch silently as Grim throws the cookie up in the air then lean his head back to catch it in the gaping black hole that is his mouth. He chews thoughtfully, mouth mostly closed as he works the contents from one side of his mouth to the other before swallowing with an audible gulp.

“Huh,” Grim says, “Not bad. A solid five out of ten.”

And then he proceeds to upend the box over his head and let the contents pour into his mouth.

“Hey! I worked hard on those!”

Deuce lunges forward but Grim swiftly avoids the attack with a sidestep, not a single crumb missing his mouth as he continues his realistic impression of a living garbage disposal. Another lunge, another miss, and Grim chokes a little in the middle of a victorious laugh as some cookie crumbs go down the wrong pipe.

Frustrated, Deuce turns to Ace. “Are you gonna help me or what?”

“And risk losing a finger?” Ace asks with a raised brow. “No thanks.”

Not that Ace would have been able to help even if he had been inclined to (which he wasn’t). With a satisfied burp, Grim drops the now-empty plastic container and lets it fall to the table with an audible clunk. Crumbs and sprinkles cling to the wet fur around his mouth.

The devastated look Deuce gives to the empty container almost makes Ace feel bad for actively sabotaging his love confession. Not bad enough that he would have done anything differently, mind you, but enough that he’ll try not to rub it later.

“I can’t believe you ate them all.” Deuce huffs and Ace can’t tell if Deuce looks like he’s about to cry or punch a hole in the wall. “They were meant to be for… for…”

“For who?” You interrupt, lunch tray in hand wafting with the pungent scent of tuna melt.

“For everyone,” Ace jumps in. “Deuce brought cookies for all of us but Grim gobbled them all up before I could even try one. Isn’t that right, Deuce?”

“Uh, yeah,” he agrees, taking the out Ace has given him. The only thing worse than having a confession sabotaged would be admitting to it.

“You didn’t even save one for me? Grim, you poop-butt!” You stick your tongue out at Grim as you set the tray in front of him and he blows a raspberry back at you before immediately picking up the sandwich and chowing down.

“Well, if you’re in the mood for something sweet, I heard the Mostro Lounge has a new dessert on the menu.” Ace flashes a flirty grin that he’s been practicing in the mirror since he hit puberty. “I could take you. My treat.”

“Uh-huh,” you reply, looking incredulous, “And how do you plan on paying for it.”

“I’ve been saving up,” he answers, color rising to his cheeks when the words catch up with his brain. He hopes he didn’t sound too eager but it’s too late to take it back now.

You raise another incredulous eyebrow, lip set in a thin line as you think over his offer. Technically, it’s not even a date, but Ace still feels sweat dripping down the back of his neck and his in his palms as if he just asked if he could be your boyfriend.

Before you can give an answer, Grim groans, cheeks looking a little green beneath his fur.

“Minion,” he whines miserably, tugging at your sleeve. “I don’t feel so good.”

“That’s what you get for scarfing down your sandwich after gorging yourself on all that sugar, you brat.” You sigh as you take him into your arms, tucking your shoulder under his chin and holding him carefully against your chest. You turn back to Ace. “Sorry, but I better get Grim to the nurse’s office. You‘ll have to go without me.”

Ace curses under his breath. He didn’t think his plan to sabotage Deuce would come back to bite him. Grim eats rocks off the ground; what are the chances that he would get sick from overeating now of all times?

That’s when Ace and Deuce both catch Grim’s eye as you turn your back to go to the nurse and Grim’s sick expression morphs to a fanged smirk as he snuggles up against you.

Their jaws drop, speechless, and you and Grim are gone.

Ace and Deuce turn to one another, understanding a temporary truce established as they realize they are not the only rivals for your attention.

[specialinterestshows]

After the overwhelming one (1) note response, have the first third of my transmasc!reader x Judgement Day fic. Lead-up to smut.

Warnings for this section: f-slur

-

Want (Part 1/3)

It’s hard to believe you were able to save up enough to see WWE’s Monday Night RAW live; you had driven most of your coworkers to their wits’ end talking their ears off about how you couldn’t wait to make your goal so you could quit.

“And what are you going to do after that?” they sometimes asked, trying to poke holes in your plans.

You’d move to the next place, find the next job; maybe end up with something you’d want to stick with for a while. Hell, who knows: maybe you’d end up a wrestling groupie after this show. “Whatever I want.”

The roar of the crowd behind you brought you back to the present. You had managed to snag a spot in the front row and had already cheered, booed, and sung along to the theme of a few of tonight’s wrestlers, but you weren’t about to let the soreness in your throat stop you from enjoying yourself. You might, however, need to get some water. But was it worth leaving the front row? The show was about halfway through-

The lighting suddenly shifts and new music comes on, dark figures and lightning projecting on the tron.

Once the Judgement Day walked out of the gorilla - despite not being listed to fight that night - it became clear this was another “We run Monday Night RAW” speech. Your dry, sore throat is louder than the wrestlers, the announcers - even louder than the crowd currently booing the muscular group clad in black and purple. You decide to take this moment to go for water, pushing through the crowd and trying to remember where you last saw a water fountain.

After what must have been three full minutes of chugging water, you decide to take advantage of the building’s one-room restroom. You were sure you passed well enough to use the men’s restroom most of the time, but earlier years of transition still made the situation instinctively anxiety-inducing.

Upon leaving the bathroom, you hear a gruff voice huff “Finally” before getting shoulder-checked by a dude making a beeline for the door you just walked out of. You groan at the sudden hit to your shoulder and hear “Pft, fag” before the door slams shut.

“What the FUCK, ASSHOLE,” the words leave your mouth as if someone else is shouting them, the shock and anger sending a wave through your body.

You don’t even get a chance to calm down before an unmistakeable Australian accent barks out “How DARE you interrupt me!”

You feel your face getting unreasonably warm as you turn around to see Rhea Ripley marching directly towards you, the rest of the Judgement Day closely behind. Oh fuck.

The interviewer they left behind gestures to the camera to stop filming.

“No one interrupts Mami” Dominik Mysterio jeers, smirking.

“You disrespect one member of the Judgement Day, you disrespect all of us” it’s Finn Balor, standing close enough to punch you - if he really wanted to.

“So you’re going to make it up to ALL of us,” Damian Priest growls, the last to surround you.

[end part 1 of 3]

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/specialinterestshows/719312061520347136/want-part-23