#i might try and redo it n add more

[himbolithium]

I made this a few months ago for a project, I never got to share it anywhere so

[jakesangel]

first date w jake ꣑୧

jake might seem cocky n super flirty but when it comes to blossoming love he is more the shy type. giggles hidden behind his hands n flirty joke said w a hint of embarrassment, this is how newly love w jake feels like. but as much as shy he is he will never back down in shooting his shot w the pretty girl right in front of him, do you wanna go to see a movie w me someday ? he would shyly say, looking away as his hand would be behind his head, a soothing manner to cope w his anxiety. but as he senses your flustered state, his would slowly fade away, specially when you agree to his offer. 8pm tonight ? the one in the shopping mall ? he would add a bit too fast, his excitement barely hidden.

at home, he would totally freak out, the group chat going on fire as he doesn't know how to dress or even process his pretty girl accept a date w him. his heart would beat so so fast, excitement n stress buzzing out of him, he'd even arrive earlier at the cinema, almost 20 minutes early and even on site, he can't stay put. it would be as he sat down, waiting for you,that he'd realize, his mind being full of you, that he forgot to bring flowers, going right back up in search of a fleurist.

seeing you all dolled up, just for him, almost made him fall on his knees, but once he sees you sawing him, finally walking to him smiling, he lost it. h-hi y/n, you look so beautiful, he would say breathless. he even forgot to give you the flowers he bought you, that you'd have to tell him thank you first for him to give it to you. oh yeah sorry, these are for you he would say as he hand them, n if you are flustered or if he his brave enough he would add, you're prettier than them tho. after little chitchat, he would lead you to the reception to buy the tickets n the snacks. he will get you everything you want, some drink n popcorn but wouldn't let you buy anything, you look like a princess, i just treat you like one, no ? or can't let a pretty girl waste her money w such, his true self coming back.

during the movie, he would try to focus but how can he ? you're sitting so close to him, your scent filling up his nose. he would look your way, also using the popcorn between the both of you as an excuse to touch your hand for spilt second. n truly the movie date was a bad idea : he doesnt want to not talk w you, nor not look at you. he is stuck in his chair, darkness surrounding him, blocking his view of you. he has you so close yet so far, he doesnt know what to do. so he just let his body act on his own, hoping it won't make you uncomfortable. his hand would come close to yours, tasting the waters, n as he sees you not pulling away, he'd take your hand in his.

your hands would stay together, thru out the movie, or even throwing out your waste. his hand remain in yours as you walk side by side, walking you to your place. thank you for coming w me today y/n or i really had a good time w you, he would say in front of your front door. could we redo it, another day ?

notes : me when ᵕ᷄≀ ̠˘᷅

@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @stwrjvke @amouriu @neos127 @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring @pockettwinzz @jwsdoll @heeheeswifey @sjylouvre @txnwvc @oopshee

[skzimagines]

"Teachers pet."

Minors DNI 18+

"Okay class, that's it for today. If you could bring me those papers by next week, it would help your guy's grading score a lot!" Professor Chan's voice booms through the class as everyone begins to pack their things into their bags.

"Next week? Is he crazy, we'll never get it done by then!" My friend Cam says from beside me. I fold up my laptop and shove it into my bag, chuckling at her comment. "I can always help you, maybe we'll get it done sooner that way." I say, throwing my bag over my shoulder.

"Yeah, that's easier for you to say.... teachers pet." She says with a smirk. My face turns red as I turn to look at Chan. He's currently going through papers on his desk. As if he can feel my stare, he looks up. His eyes meet mine and he gives me a small smile before going back to his work. "I'm not the teacher's pet... You just get along better with them when you actually do your work." I jokingly say... kinda. "Oh I'm sure you're doing work for him." She spits back with a wink. I let out a groan which causes her to laugh, then swing my bag over my shoulder. "You ready?" We head out the door but before I can make it out all of the way Professor Chan calls my name. "Ms. Y/n, can I speak to you for a second?" I stop in my tracks and look at Cam. "Have fun... teacher's pet." She laughs and jogs up to the rest of our friends.

I make my way back into the class, standing in front of his desk. "Is everything okay?" I ask. My hands start sweating as I fold them together in front of me and play with the ring on my finger nervously. It's no lie that this man is beyond attractive, and I may or may not have had a tiny crush on him since last year. But, pushing feelings aside because everyone knows, sleeping with a teacher, probably isn't something you should try to be adding to your resume.

"Yes, I'm just looking through my papers here and I don't seem to have your last report." He states, looking up at me from the stack of papers he has on his desk. I look at him confused, because I know I sat my work on his desk as soon as I walked into class last week.

"I for sure thought I sat them on your desk last week." I say quietly. "Well, I have looked everywhere and I can't seem to find them. They might have gotten lost?" He says, more as a question though. "I can give them to you again to redo, so you can get the points for them, but I'm afraid I'll have to fail you if they're not turned in by tomorrow." He states. "Tomorrow!?...Sir, it took us an entire week to do that report, there's no way I can get that done by tomorrow..." I say, concern filling my voice. He lets out a sigh before grabbing last week's report out of his desk and setting it in front of me. "Do what you can, and I'll add points for whatever you get done." He says. I let out a groan and roll my eyes, grabbing the papers off of his desk.

"I don't appreciate the attitude Ms. Y/N." He says sternly. I've never been one to talk back, especially to people who have more control than I do. I've always left that to Cam. But the fact that I'm going to fail this assignment, after working my ass off on it, sends flames through my body. "With all respect, Sir. I just don't see how it's my fault that you lost my papers. I know I sat them on your desk before class started last week." Chan stares at me, as if he's seen a ghost. After what seems like an eternity but was really only 10 seconds. He stands from his chair and walks around his desk, standing right in front of me. "Ms. Y/N, are you blaming me for your mistake?" He asks. His voice has gotten much deeper and quieter. Sexier, but I'm not going to get into all of that. "I'm sorry, Sir. but..." He cuts me off by quickly walking to me until our bodies touch and he presses me against his desk. My breath gets caught in my throat as his lips nearly touch mine.

"I said, I don't appreciate the attitude. So Y/N why is it, you keep giving it to me?" He asks, his breath fans over my lips and smells of mint and I take note of the gum that's in his mouth. I can't find any words. All I can focus on is the way his hands hold my waist and the way his lips are so close to mine, if I were to move right now, there'd be no avoiding them from touching.

"You don't have much to say now, do you?" He asks with a smirk. A small squeak leaves my lips as he pushes his knee between my legs, causing them to open and him to stand between them. "I have a small idea on how you can get those points for that assignment." He says seductively. "Sir... we shouldn't' do this. Y..you could lose y...your job." I say quietly, trying so hard not to absolutely go feral. "Oh y/n, aren't you the cutest little thing. I have you pinned up against my desk, wanting to fuck your brains out, but yet you're concerned about my job." He says with a small chuckle.

"Sir..." I start to say, but he quickly cuts me off. "You make me crazy when you call me that." He groans out, before slamming his lips onto mine. It feels like electricity jolts through my entire body. My hands instinctively reach to the back of his neck.

He steps away before turning me around and bending me over his desk. “You and these stupid skirts, always taunting me every time you come in here.” He says, lifting my skirt up to lay on my back and dragging my panties down my legs, exposing my dampend heat to him and swiftly taking out his hardened member from his black jeans.

“Gosh… perfect, just how I imagined it.” He says, before slamming himself into me. The desk moves a bit from the force of his thrust. A sharp yelp leaves my lips before he clasps his hand over my mouth.

“As much as I’d love to hear your sweet little moans, I don’t want to lose my job baby girl, couldn’t bear the fact of not seeing you every day.” He groans out. He continues to pound into me, small mumbled moans flow through his hand every time he buries himself inside of me.

I feel my stomach clench up to the feeling of my high coming closer. “I feel that pussy tightening for me, you going to cum for me?” He asks. All I can do is let out a moan as an answer, before my high reaches the peak and exploded around him. My body shakes as he continues to pound into me, bringing himself to his own.

He thrusts extra hard, pausing between every seed he pumps in to me. Letting out a grunt every time as well.

He pulls out and pulls my panties back up and fixes my skirt before pulling his pants back into place. As I stand up from his desk, my name catches my eye. I take a second look at the paper sitting in his desk…. It’s my report, my name written right on the top right side. “Wha… Chan!.” I say, pointing at the paper.

He follows the direction to which I’m pointing at and sees my paper, sitting right smack beside him. “Oh! Imagine that!” He says, picking up the paper with a smirk. “Yeah… imagine.” I say. “Is that more attitude Y/N?.” He asks, giving me the same look as earlier… before he fucked me over his desk.

I watch as he grabs a pen from inside his desk. He takes my paper and writes a big 100% right at the top. “I’ll put some extra credit on there too, sweetie.” He says before giving me a wink.

“You think I did this for a good grade?” I ask. Does he really think I’m that desperate? “That’s not the reasoning?” He asks, giving me a confused look. “No!” I say dramatically. “Why else would a smart girl like you, be fucking her teacher for.” He asks. Folding his hands together on his desk. I grimace at the comment he’s made. “Don’t make me sound like a whore…” I whisper, not having the courage to look at him. He hear his chair slide back against the wooden floor.

I suddenly feel his hand lift my head so he can look me in the eye. “Baby girl, you are anything but… don’t ever think I’d think of you in that way.” He whispers, planting a small kiss to my forehead. A light blush forms on my cheeks as his thumb rubs a circle on my cheek.

“Now… go get to your other classes, we don’t need you to fail those.” He gives me a wink, walking back to his chair. I take one more good look at him, taking in everything that’s just happened.

My heart flutters from the thought of him deep inside me. I shake my head from the thought. I grab my bag from off of the floor near his desk and throw it of my shoulder before making my way to the door.

“See you tomorrow Ms. Y/N..” he says with a smirk.

“See you tomorrow Professor Chan.”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hear the lonely cry out

requested: for some azriel angst, maybe the reader getting pregnant but not telling az (for justifiable reasons ofc), and az only finds out later on and angst ensues?

a/n kind of feel like this might be the saddest thing I've ever written. I hurt myself while writing this so now it's your turn. So that's that...

warning: neglect, fighting, pains associated with pregnancy, nausea, mention of possibility of loosing a child and just suffering.

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"Baby, you need to sleep," you said, running your hands down your lover's shoulders. Azriel had been sitting in that chair for hours, going through the information his spies had gathered for their master. He didn't even come down to eat, nor did he eat the food that you brought up for him. You knew him well enough to know that when court responsibilities got this serious, reaching him was practically impossible. 

"I'll be there in a couple of minutes. You can go up, love," the spymaster said, catching your hand in his and bringing it to his lips, yet his eyes didn't lose focus on the paper he held in his hands. You knew it was a lie. He wouldn't be there for at least a couple more hours, maybe till the sun started to peak over the mountains. Get an hour of sleep, and then be off for a day of meetings.

Leaning in, you pressed a kiss to the side of his face before you turned to go. You've had conversations about his workload more than once. And gods forbid you weren't the one to complain. Azriel was an extremely attentive lover. He remembered the things you told him. Listen to what you have to say. He treated you well, and for the most part, you genuinely had nothing to complain about. It was those busy weeks that would turn into months that would make you feel like you didn't have a partner. Make your heart sting just a little.

Instead of going to the bedroom, you made your way back into the kitchen for some tea. For the past couple of days, you have been feeling rather odd. You didn't feel all that sick; it was more like an overall unpleasant feeling that you just couldn't shake off. But if you were being honest, you didn't pay it too much attention considering the little cramping in your lower stomach. And knowing your not-so-regular cycle, you wouldn't be too surprised if, due to the stress, it decided to knock on your door earlier.

Your gaze was drawn to the dining table, and a smile formed on your lips. When you moved here, Azriel had taken it upon himself to redo all the wooden furniture. The oak table was your mating anniversary gift. You had never seen a table so intricately carved with different ornaments of leaves and flowers. But still, what made your heart clench the most were the two letters carved into it. The first letters of your and Azriel's names. "We can add our kids' names as our family grows," he told you then, while you sobbed in his arms, snot everywhere since he had taken you so by surprise.

"Are you mad at me?", you felt two arms slip around your lower stomach, making you jump slightly. "Why would I be handsome?", you questioned, leaning more into your lover's embrace. "Just felt multiple strokes of discomfort coming from your side of your bond", you frowned at that. You were trying to keep your emotions somewhat hidden from him when he was so busy. The fewer distractions, the better.

Turning into Azriel's embrace, you wrapped your arms around his torso. Selfishly enjoying the moment of having him so close to you. "I'm fine, just crampy. I have a daunting feeling that my cycle is close," you huffed, and Azriel hummed in response. "Should I run you a bath?", but you just shook your head, knowing well that the longer you keep him here, the longer he will spend in the study. "I'll make some tea and go curl up in the bed under five blankets. You finish your work and come cuddle," you pouted your lips at him, earning a chuckle from the spymaster as he leaned in to kiss you twice. Even if it wasn't much. Just a few feathery kisses made your heart skip a beat. "I won't be long tonight, I promise," Azriel whispered to you before kissing you one last time.

You ended up falling asleep on your own last night, and it wasn't that big of a surprise when you woke up to a cold and empty bed as well. You quickly shut down your end of the bond before allowing a wave of sadness to wash over you as your mind wandered off. Wondering when was the last time you woke up with Azriel still in your bed? But as you turned to lie on your side, your stomach suddenly rumbled, and the next thing you know, you were up and rushing to the bathroom. Barely making it to the toilet as the food from last night made its way out. The sensation brought tears to your eyes as you tried to hold your hair out of the way.

Once the feeling subsided, you let your head slip down onto the hand that gripped the side of the toilet. Mother, the last thing you needed was a complicated cycle. Especially since you had no one to look after you and you were not going to tell Azriel about it. There was no way. So pretending everything was fine would be the next burden in your path.

You only managed to drag yourself out and get somewhat ready quite sometime later. You promised to help Nesta clean up alongside Feyre. She was now heavily pregnant. The babe was a surprise for both of the mates. Cassian had spent a whole day crying with excitement, and Nesta's fears of being a bad mother had died with every day that passed. At least it seemed like it. They seemed so happy, and it was a dream knowing that the inner circle was growing. Not to mention that Nyx was over the moon that he would get a friend soon. With a quick stop at the bakery, you make your way toward your friend's house. The cooler morning breeze soothed your nausea and made you feel way perkier than before. It was exactly what you needed—some time with the girls.

 Your mood almost immediately picked up as everyone laughed while folding the baby close together. "I'm telling you. I've been catching him doing breathing techniques and muttering all sorts of motivational stuff", Nesta laughed, hand on her tummy as you all gossiped about Cassian and the father mode he had entered. "Imagine hearing a - push Nes push at two in the morning", you three snickered, "That's pretty much how it goes", Nes wiped away the tears that came from laughing quickly. You were still grinning as you stood up with a basket in your hands when everything blurred. You swayed slightly to one side. Pressing your eyes shut tightly before blinking quickly a couple of times, hoping that the fog would clear up.

"Darling," Fayra said as she wrapped her arms around you, fanning you with her hand. "Reach out for Az," Nesta said worryingly, her hands holding onto you now. "No, no Azriel", you said sharply. Quickly giving both of the females a death-like look, "No one is telling him anything." Both of them looked into your pleading eyes with nothing but concern. It was unlike you to deny the presence of your mate. "But lo-", "I said no. It's nothing, just my cycle; I've been feeling weird." The two sisters shared a look. Not believing you but then again fea cycles were no joke. It took women out like the plague. With no strength to move. The list of symptoms was enormous. Yet something about this didn't seem right. Feyre handed you a cup of water. "Maybe you still seek out Madja on your way home?", the high lady asked gently. "That's unnecessary...", "Please, it would give me peace of mind," Nesta said, and you weren't about to put more stress on a pregnant woman. So you nodded your head at her, smiling ever so slightly so you could reassure her.

You softly knocked on the clinic's door, and Madja wiped it open almost in an instant. "It's nothing serious," you started, but she was already guiding you toward the bed. She asked you a question here and there, but for the most part, you could tell that she already knew everything you had told the girls. Meaning Feyre had already informed her of everything.

"Well, lay down, dear," the healer whispered, guiding her hands over your body. A fond smile spread over her face almost immediately. "This year is a blessed one. I'll need to go to the temple and give an offering to the mother," she muttered in excitement. You gave the healer a puzzled look, but her soft hand only moved to touch your cheek, saying softly, "You're with a child, girl." For a moment, you felt like you had slipped into a different universe. Hovering somewhere between the stars and the solid ground. Your head started to spin just like it did before, the sickening feeling once again increasing.

"It can't be, it's... I'm starting a cycle," she said, but Madja only shook her head, "It's early days, but you are carrying a strong babe, dear." Your eyes still searched, waiting for her to burst out laughing and tell you that she was just joking. "Why is the face like that? A child is a blessing, and Azriel, my boy... oh, he'll be so happy," you thickly swallowed at the sound of your mate's name. Oh, gods, how were you going to tell him, and when? Could you just tell him now? Should you? But this would be such a distraction. What if he thinks it's just an additional burden? You quickly pull yourself together as Madja continues to speak again, going through the appointments she would like to have and packing you all sorts of stuff to take home for nausea and aches.

You stop at the side of Sidra on your way back. Needing to clear out your fuzzy head. Put thousands in the right place. You hated the fact that this didn't at all feel as you had imagined. And Mother forbid, you were so happy. Not many get blessed with a baby. Couples grew mad while trying to conceive. But it felt like such bad timing. Azriel was not in the right mindset for this. Or maybe this was exactly what he needed? Someone or something to focus his attention on.

Your hand slips onto your still flat stomach, only slightly bloated, but that was just the impact of the food you had eaten today. "What will we do, my little joy? How do we tell dad?", you whispered into the light evening breeze. The conversation you had about kids playing on and on in your head. You knew that Azriel wanted them. He wanted a family of his own, and there had been times you caught him with his hand on your stomach after a particularly rowdy session of sex, "In case we created something. Need them to feel a warm fatherly touch from the start," he would say, leaning in closer to snuggle into you. He wanted this a lot. You even found sketches of the little crib he was making. Azriel hadn't told you about it, and you didn't ask, of course, but he wanted to have a child. He wanted it before his overworked brain turned on.

However, the moment you stepped foot into your shared home, you could practically feel the lingering essence of anger all over the place. Azriel's back was toward you. He was sitting on the sofa, one leg bouncing up and down, and he was so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't even hear you coming in. "Sweet, did something happen?", you asked carefully, Azriel's tired eyes shooting up to meet you as he let out a frustrated huff. "It's all shit," Azriel snarled, "They screwed up the entire mission, and I warned Rhys. I fucking warned him." As your mate stood up to pace the room, you flinched slightly at the sound of his loud voice. 

"Now I have to go there and try to fix this. I don't have time for that," the spymaster continued, visibly growing more and more frustrated. "Can you ask someone to go instead?", you tried to send loving strokes of support down the bond, but you were met with nothing in return, nor did it seem to do anything. "Who You fancy a trip?", Azriel barked back, and you quickly bit the inside of your cheek so your eyes wouldn't fill up with tears as you shook your head no. Well, here went your plan to tell him over a sweet dinner together that you wanted to cook. If you mentioned a child, this would be a tragedy, so you bit your tongue. Promising yourself to stay silent.

"How about I make you some food, and while you eat, I'll pack up your stuff and get everything ready?", you asked softly, trying to at least get his emotions somewhat in check. "It'll take at least something off your shoulders. Even if it's insignificant," you murmured at the end. And usually, Azriel is good at picking up on your emotions from the tone of your voice, but tonight it seemed like he either didn't hear it or didn't want to hear it.

Azriel stayed still for a moment, but then he softly nodded his head, "I'll do some work in the study in the meantime." You gave him a light smile. He did step closer to you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. And the fact that he had lingered there for a moment gave you hope that he might have sensed you, that he considered staying. But he moved past you, his hand lightly grazing your tummy, but he doesn't stop in his tracks. If only you knew, you thought to yourself, if only you knew that that's where your child is growing now. What a difference it would make if you knew...

He doesn't come to eat, and he once again doesn't eat what you bring to him. You pack his stuff up, and you can't help but feel like you are just packing his way out of your life. The shadow singer leaves in the middle of the night. You're not asleep yet, and you don't turn to face him. You hear the sound of his clothes ruffling as he gets dressed. You don't even know how long he will be away or where he is going. Closing your eyes just as he walks to your side, leaning in to press a couple of kisses to your forehead. And with that, he's gone. 

You wait a moment longer until you're fully sure that he was not coming back before you let your eyes fill up with tears. A painful sob slipped past your lips as you clench your finger around the sheets. Cry your heart out into the darkness of the night.

At first, you felt utterly alone. Having to run to the bathroom every morning and well into the day as you gagged with your face hovering over the toilet. Needing to drag yourself to make food. You didn't care that much for yourself, and if not for the baby, you would have probably just spent your days in bed without moving. But then it struck you. You weren't alone. You were never alone. You always had your baby with you. With every step you took, a little joy was always there. Warming your weeping heart. Azriel reached out through the bond while he was away. And because you didn't want him to go flying home, you listened to him speak. Letting his voice slip into nothingness as the words went through you and out. You ignored everyone in your family. Saying that you had caught something and didn't want to get any of the kids sick. So the best decision was to stay away.

You were sitting with a big blanket over your body, eyes gazing at the fire when the front door suddenly opened. You had felt this was going to happen considering that for the past couple of days, you had completely shut off the bond. "Take that off," Azriel said, his voice shaking as he stepped through the living room, making his way to you. Looking like nothing but a frightened animal in the woods.

"Azriel," you spoke weakly, your hallow eyes turning his way, and you just hoped that he would drop it. "Take it off," he yanked at the blanket's side, reaching for your arms to get you to stand. So you did, letting the material crumble to the floor. The spymaster's mouth gaped at the sight of you. At the sight of your bump, which had become more visible. Even if it wasn't all that big yet. "You're..." the male trailed off. Chest falling and rising rapidly. "I am, yes. I am pregnant," you said coldly, as you walked past him and into the kitchen. Azriel just shook his head, turning your way, "Why did you... when did you find out?" His steps followed right behind you. You debate over your answer. The pain stings your chest.

"Before you left", "And said nothing?", his voice grew louder, and you slammed your cup down on the counter. "Don't you dare! You were boiling with rage that night," you said, firmly pointing your finger at him. "That's not a good enough excuse," he muttered under his breath, and your blood filled with so much rage. So much anger was pushed away. "You are unbelievable... I've been neglected by you for weeks like some dirty foot rag. You enjoyed just wiping your shit at me, didn't you?", you shouted at him now. You didn't seem to mind that you'd never done that before.

"What the fuck are you on about?", Azriel barked back, leaning closer to you. "You and your work. Are you sure you shouldn't be mated to your papers?", you spat his way, moving to push past him, but Azriel gripped your hand firmly, making you stop in your tracks. "Don't start with this shit again", "I will start because ahh...", you leaned forward, hand coming to your bump as the pain shoots through you. Azriel's grip on your hand loosens as he moved to wrap his arm over you, but you coldly push it away. Gritting your teeth. Until another pain shoots through you, a much louder cry slipping past your lips, and you have no other option but to let your mate lift you as he carried you to the sofa.

"Love, talk to me, what is it?", his worried eyes sought you out. "It hurts," and you try to take deep breaths in and calm your heart down. Fighting like this. All of these emotions at once were not what your body needed. Not what you needed. You were so tired. You didn't have it in you to deal with this. And it's not even a couple of minutes later that the door opens and Madja rushes in accompanied by Rhys.

Azriel is being pushed out of the room. Your teary eyes, hands gripping the bump, a bump that he hasn't even touched yet, the last thing he sees before the doors are closed right in front of him. A small bump that carries his child. And it all comes crashing down. It's him. It's him. He's the problem. He's the one who caused this. The darkest scenarios cloud his mind, and he's about to march back in, but Rhys is in his way instantly.

"Move, Rhys, move!", the spymaster wept as he tried to reach for the door handle. "Azriel, it's not the right time", "Rhysand, don't test me; there's my mate and my child there. I need to know if they are okay," Azriel roared, trying to somehow find a way to feel you through the bond, but there was nothing but coldness there. "Don't cause a scene. Let her be checked and calm down," the high lord tried to say calmly, but anxiousness was inevitable on his face. "If she.. if I", the images of his father fill Azriel's mind. His mother being pushed around. Whimpering as his father yelled at her. Her cries were all he could hear at night, and she was nothing but lonely and scared. Alone. You've been alone through all of this. You've made up your mind to keep it from him. To keep his baby away from him. Because he wasn't worthy. He was nothing better than a piece of trash. He wasn't any better than his father. Worse, perhaps.

The time seemed to slow down; it feels like years as Azriel stands there. Hoping that he had at least done something good in his five hundred years of existence that would be enough to buy the gift of keeping you both safe. When Madja walks out the door, Azriel practically falls to his knees. "She's okay; both of them are. I've got her to sleep," her words set the tears flowing down Azriel's cheeks, "She's distressed and hasn't been drinking or eating enough."

He walked inside as quietly as he could. The sight of you curled up on the bed both warmed and broke the spymaster's heart. The male debated whether he should just leave you here or carry you up to your bed. Carefully, Azriel ran his hand over your head before scooping you up in his arms. The sofa, no matter how comfortable it was, would most likely leave your back sore, and the shadow singer had a feeling you already had those pains as it was. Once you were tucked in between your sheets and Azriel had sat and watched you for an hour, he went back downstairs. Cleaning up the place as he went along, washing up the dishes, and sorting out the trash. Started making some soup as well. All the little things. Small things he realized he hadn't done in what seemed like an eternity.

You woke up sometime later. Feeling much more refreshed yet slightly dissociated. The window was narrowly open, letting just the right amount of fresh air flow into the room. The pitcher with water was nestled against the side of your nightstand. You reached for the glass, only now realizing just how thirsty you were. Taking a couple of dried fruits and nuts from the bowl as you swing your legs over the edge. The heavy feeling in your chest still lingered, yet you threw on one of Azriel's sweaters before you went downstairs. His scent instantly relieves some of the tension in your body. Azriel was lost in his head again. Stirring whatever he was cooking in that pot so viscously that you almost felt sorry for both the pot and the spoon.

"That smells nice," to the sound of your voice Azriel practically threw the spoon as he rushed to you and asked, "What are you doing up? You need to be laying in bed", his arms were hooked under your legs in an instant as he carried you back to the sofa. "Azriel, I can walk", "Madja said you need to take it easy for a couple of days. Are you in pain now? Do you need anything? Are you craving something? Because I can...", your head was starting to spin again from the number of questions he managed to cramp in the space of one breath. Placing your palm on his, you squeezed it gently.

"Calm down," you mumbled, watching as your mate practically started hyperventilating right beside you. "I don't deserve you. You shouldn't be speaking to me now. You shouldn't be speaking to me ever again," he blurted out, his eyes glossing over with tears. "Love," you tried to interfere, but Azriel only shook his head. "I've failed you. I'm no better than my father. You deserve so much more. I've failed my kid, and the baby isn't even born yet. You shouldn't even tell them that I'm their father", you crooked your head to the side, watching Azriel self-sabotaging himself once again. "You're talking nonsense now. They will know that you are the father, and you will be here by their side as they grow up," you said firmly, sitting up so you could reach for Azrie's face. Gently turning it towards you so his eyes would be on you as you spoke.

"Am I upset with you? Very much so. But I will always choose you. It will always be you, Azriel. I just can't be... I won't be... We won't be a second option," moving closer, Azriel rested his forehead on yours. "You were never a second option. I just... I get so scared sometimes. Your love, it overwhelms me," the spymaster said, his brows furrowed. "It's been years, and I still tell myself that the cauldron made a mistake. I'm not good enough for you; we are not equal. You are so much more than me", "Azriel, you get in your ways with thoughts like that", you mutter, pulling away slightly, so you could see his face better. "You need to realize that you are not the same little boy locked up in the basement. You made it out of there. So live, my love. Don't rob yourself of the happiness you deserve", Azriel's bottom lip quivered before tears started rolling down his cheeks once again. You give him a sad look before pulling him closer to yourself, "Let it all out, my love. You've pushed yourself too much," you said, running your fingers through his already messy hair as you tried to soothe the cries that escaped his lips.

"Give me your hand", you nudged his arms slightly, taking it into your much smaller one. Guiding it under your sweater, Azriel's sweater, "Calm your breathing and listen to this," you said calmly, keeping your hand on top of his. Even the fact that his palm got to rest on the swell of your stomach made him let out yet another cry. But his ears picked up on something else. A tiny little heartbeat. Tiny but so strong. As if it was screaming from the inside of your tummy at it's parents about just how much it wanted to be there and grow. Azriel pulled back to look at you, eyes wide now that he could feel the life growing inside you. "Our baby...", the spymaster mumbled, and you let a tear slide down your cheek, "Yes, our little joy", "I love you", he muttered, leaning in to pack your lips softly before he moved down, lifting the knitted fabric. "And I love you," Azriel said, running his hand over your bump carefully before pressing a kiss on your skin. "I love you. I love you. I love you," he repeated over and over. You watched your mate with a fond smile, finally feeling somewhat content. Finally feeling the other side of the bond flourishing, no longer cold and unwelcoming.

[cookiesforsigma]

"One day, this will all be yours. I promise."

Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs

Pairing: Nakahara Chuuya x Fem!Reader

Genre: Romance

Warning(s): implied nsfw near the end?

W/c: 0.7k

A/n: not very proud but... better than the last one haha... still, do not have faith in me.

Also this is an idea dump (again) this is below average

i might redo this featuring Fyodor but with a dif storyline? i think the end would fit his character

5:30pm

"Hello there, my darling" Chuuya greeted you as you got out of your house. He was there to pick you up for your date. He hadn't told you were the two of you were going yet, but you had a few guesses in mind.

"You look beautiful." He took your hand kissed it softly, making you blush. "Shall we go now?"

"Where are we headed, Chuuya?"

"I'm taking you shopping." Classic. But you love it when he spoils you with expensive gifts and shopping sprees. He does have quite a lot of money, being a mafioso, and he doesn't mind likes spending it on you as well.

— — — — — —

You entered the mall together. The first store you chose to go to was an expensive clothing store which you had never been to before. It wasn't because you couldn't affort going there, but you didn't see the point of buying those kinds of dresses. Until you started dating Chuuya, at least.

Even so, you only entered after he assured you that you could pick out anything you want and he'll pay for it regardless of the price. He trusted you and knew you well, so he wasn't scared about how much you were gonna spend. In fact, he was curious (and a little excited, if I may add) as to how you'd look in the dresses you were going to try on.

You looked around in the store. There were lots of pretty and expensive looking clothes there. You picked out a few things, with a few suggestions from your partner, and went to try them on. He complimented you, telling you how amazing you look in all of them, and you ended up buying everything you had chosen.

"Hm? There's no need to put these back, (Y/n). They fit you perfectly. And worry not about the price. If you wish to buy these dresses, I'll make sure you own them."

— — — — — —

Already two carrier bags full of clothing items, with purses and necklaces as well. Chuuya offered to carry them for you, but you didn't want him to have both his hands full, so then you started fighting over who would carry the bags. He won. As expected.

"Next store?"

"I'm getting hungry, Chyuu..."

"What do you want to eat then?"

You picked out a place to eat, ordered and sat down at a table.

"Are you happy, doll?"

"Mhm! Thank you for all this."

"Oh, that's nothing. I'll take you out shopping any time! All to mke sure you have everything you want."

— — — — — —

It's the end of your date. Your boyfriend said he had one more place he wanted to take you.

Few minutes later, you were both standing on a building rooftop. It was dark outside, and the view was mesmerizing. You looked down.

Small humans creating a lot of commotion beneath you. You and Chuuya were looking at them from above. He wrapped his arm around your waist.

"(Y/n)?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know why all these humans are in such a rush?"

Silence followed. You looked at him with a questioning look on your face, as if telling him to go on.

"They're busy. It's late, and all they want in this moment is to get home and relax."

You looked down again. You couldn't understand a word of what he just said – where was he going with this?

"Doesn't it feel good not to be them? Not to overwork yourself this late?"

"As if you're one to talk about people overworking themselves..."

He remained quiet.

"Is there any way I can repay you for what you've done for me today?"

Chuuya shook his head. "I just don't want you to feel like you don't have enough. One day," he went on, "I might even be able to offer you these people."

Another question mark appeared above your head.

"I'm talking about the world. I will be able to give you everything one day."

"That's too much. Let me do something for you in return."

You were practically pleading to do him a favor. Most likely a big one.

"...Are you busy tonight?"

"Sleeping. Actually, not really."

"Mind if I take you to my place?"

One day, I'll be able to give the whole world to you.

9:57pm

[ababybiter]

living with bangtan part 4 (18+)

okay its time to get saucy!!! contains smut, fluff, slowburn, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, bts are obsessed with you <3

-

You don't say anything at first. You figure you should make him squirm a little. It was his fault.

"So you're going to ignore me?" Yoongi cocks his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Are you really sulking right now?"

"You humiliated me!" You whirl on him.

He takes a sharp intake of breath, not expecting this reaction. "I think you'll find that was Namjoon." He starts in a small voice.

"The drink was just the final straw." You let your arms fall at your sides. "You told us off like we were children. Jungkook might be used to that but I'm not. I'm not your liability to watch, Yoongi."

"I think you'll also find the liability was Namjoon." He scratches his head. "Do you really think kissing Jungkook was the right choice?"

You scoff, almost laughing incredulously at his tone of voice. "Who do you think you are to tell me about my choices? You bring a different girl home every other night." You hear how high pitched and wavering your voice sounds and curse inwardly.

"Pfft." He pulls his eyes away from you for a few seconds before latching them back on to you. "Okay. You're right. I was out of line."

You realise you've been holding your breath, you exhale and the two of you stare at each other.

You think back to 10 minutes ago. Was what you were doing really that bad? Having fun? With a super hot guy? So what if he also happened to be your room mate...Okay maybe it was a questionable decision, but it was just a kiss. Why did Yoongi have to lose his shit in front of everyone? You wished you kept more of a cool before, god why couldn't you be granted the power of redoing arguments.

But even though it showed more of Yoongi's character, and a problem he clearly had with the situation, it was Jin's glare that caused the panic attack to take surface, propelling you away from the neon lights and out into the strangely warm night.

"I think maybe we were both acting crazy." You breathe. "Either way, I need to get out of here."

The BMW pulls up beside you and you wave at the driver. You step off the curb, your heel getting caught in a drain. You yelp, twisting on the spot, mentally preparing yourself to add an injury to your list of problems, but Yoongi catches you in his arms.

"If you think I'm letting you get in this car alone, you're even crazier."

"It's an uber." You wave the white screen at him. "I ordered it, dummy."

"I know." He tells you as if that explains things. It's then you both realise he's still holding you. He lets go, and steps towards the car. "I don't like the idea of you getting in this guys car, in the state you're in."

"What do you mean the state I'm in, you dick?" You push past him, opening the car door. "Hi, yeah it's Y/N!" You tell the driver, coherently.

Yoongi slides in beside you and shuts the door, remind the driver of the address with a smile.

"What are you doing?" You gasp.

"Going home." He looks straight ahead. "This night was done. For me, anyway."

The ride back to the apartment is uncomfortably silent. The driver even notices the tension, and switches on the radio, playing a talk show at a medium volume. You wish he would turn the volume all the way, so you couldn't hear yourself think.

You let the two of you into the apartment, and you storm straight to your room. It's then you realise that your room key currently resides in Jimin's pocket.

"Fuuuuck." You hang your head. "I'm so done with today!"

"You locked yourself out?" Yoongi raises a brow.

"I gave my key to Jimin to hold while I ran back in for my phone." You rub your temples at the idiocy.

"Can't multitask, noted." Yoongi nods.

"If you're trying to piss me off even more, keep going." You snap. "Ugh, I have to sit in the kitchen all night and wait for them to come home in a soaking wet dress."

Yoongi hesitates on a thought, you watch him decide whether to voice it or not. "You can borrow something of mine."

You glance at him and he meets your eyes. "It's the least I can do, I guess. For cock blocking you."

You sigh. "It was JUST A KISS."

"Yeah, that's how it starts." He shakes his head and rolls his eyes as he unlocks his room.

His room is the complete opposite of how you imagined it would be. In your head you saw grey sheets, one pillow on the bed, various female lingerie hanging from every corner. Instead it was clean, white fluffy pillows, and if there were any evidence of his sexcapades, they were hidden away. It actually had a nice aesthetic.

"Wow." You breathed in. "Smells good too."

"What?" He doesn't turn around, instead he opens a draw and pulls out a t-shirt of his.

"I was just...surprised at your room is all."

"Sure." He chucks the t-shirt at you. "Get out of that dress."

"So that's how you do it?" You tilt your head. "Pretty aggressive start."

He stares at you, willing a comeback to make its way off his tongue. Instead his eyes soften. "You know, for someone that hates being judged. You do an awful lot of judging."

Your smirk dies on your lips. "I-you're right." You hug the t-shirt against you. "You have every right to do what you want with your...many evenings. Just like I do, mine."

"Glad we sorted that out." He coughs. "It's not that many evenings though."

"Sure." You grin. "Um, I'll just..."

You slip inside the en suite that you all have, Yoongi's isn't as tidy as his bedroom. It seemed he got ready in here in a hurry. Skincare and shaving stuff spilled across the sink. A bottle of hair wax that he clearly abandoned the idea of, sitting on the plughole.

Whilst Yoongi makes himself comfortable on the bed, (well as much as he can whilst knowing you're currently undressing a few steps away from him) you place the t-shirt down on the laundry basket and begin to slide the tiny straps off your shoulders, the smell of some fruity concoction bleeding from your skin.

"Ugh." You managed to get the dress down underneath your bra, when it seems to move no more. Damp and stuck to your body like superglue. You whine and tug with all your might, but it doesn't budge.

You need help.

"Yoongi...?"

"Yes?"

"I'm..I can't get the stupid thing off." You huff.

"What thing?" He calls back softly.

"The dress. It's too wet." You don't know why you're still hiding in the bathroom. If you wanted his help you might as well go to him.

You step out in front of his bed, a hand over your chest. His mouth hangs open, a quirk on the corners of his lips. "And you want me to...?"

"Peel the fucking thing off me." You groan. "Rip it off at this point I don't care."

He laughs, swinging his legs around to hang off the bed. He pulls you to stand in between his legs. "You need to relax, girl." He coos, feeling around the top of the dress for a zip. When he doesn't find one, he starts gently twisting you out of it. "I won't rip it. It's too pretty to destroy."

You stare at him as he focuses on his task. His brows are crossed in concentration, but his cheeks are pink. He gets the dress to your hips and stops. "Can I be rough?"

"What?" You blush.

"I just...need some extra force to get it off your..."

The words die in his mouth just like you do in that moment. Your ass. A panicked expression comes over him and he looks up at you. "I mean it's a compliment."

"Oh my god." You laugh, moving your hands off your chest to cover your face.

Yoongi swallows, your boobs sitting so nicely in your bra, right in front of his face. The black lacey thing fit you perfectly, he couldn't help but notice. Your tits looked like they would pop out if he did add the force he was suggesting.

It's then that you check on why he's so still, and catch him in the act. "Yoongi!"

"Wh-what! Why?" He pushes you away slightly. "It's not my fault you bought this two sizes too small."

"It's NOT small, it's wet!" You exclaim, blushing. "You think I like standing here in your room, half naked?"

"Most people don't seem to have a problem." He shrugs.

"See now who's making comments." You fold your arms, his eyes drop down for another second at the way your boobs look pushed together.

"You know what I think?" He licks his lips. "Sounds like you kinda wish you were one of them."

"Please." You scoff, but he hesitantly pulls you in by the material of your dress and you don't stop him.

"I don't think you would even be standing here at all if you didn't want me to look at you. See you." He breathes hot air on your belly. "I see you in every way, and you know I like what I see, Y/N."

When he says your name his voice takes on an edge you haven't heard since his early flirtatious days when you first moved in. His lips graze your belly button and a warm sensation fills your underwear. As he's a vampire and can smell it, his dark eyes flit to yours, a new confidence appearing in the black circles.

"This is the better choice, and we both know it."

You gasp inwardly as you realise what you're about to do. In the same second, you cup his jaw with both hands and bring your lips down to his. He catches them, ready. Your lips part instantly, letting in that catty tongue of his. Moaning into your mouth, Yoongi furrows his eyebrows and his hands slide up and down your back.

You take the lead, pushing back onto the bed, you straddle him, the ultra mini skirt that was your dress riding up over your ass. You start grinding against his jeans, the friction burning a hole in your thong. He makes a noise then, disconnecting your lips and finding your eyes.

"It's still your choice, Y/N."

"What are you saying?" You pant, annoyed slightly that he stopped your ministrations.

"I'm saying you can still call this off." He catches his breath, planting a wet kiss to your collarbone. "But if you say you want this, I don't know if I can-"

"I want this." You press down harder on him, earning a whimper from his throat. "Get this dress off."

You know how they say, mothers will get super human strength and be able to lift a car if their child was trapped underneath? The struggle between Yoongi and the dress was a bit like that. Hearing your breathy voice practically beg him to have you was all the power he needed.

In seconds you find yourself off his lap and on all fours beside him, he clambers off the bed and tugs the dress down and over your ass cheeks. You gasp and moan as you're exposed to the cool air in the room.

"Mhm." He sounds, sliding a finger underneath your thong, dragging his digit down over your slit. "Just as I thought."

As if sensing your pending question, he leans over you, his mouth on your earlobe. "More than just our good girl."

"Yoongi, please." You shiver.

He collects the wetness on his finger and darts his tongue out to taste you. "Yeah, no more waiting."

He flips you onto your back and you kick the dress off your legs, leaving you in your underwear. He hovers over you, kissing you again. "Is this what you wanted?"

"Almost." You reach your hands under t-shirt, lifting the material over his head. You then reach your hand down and cup him over his jeans. "Your turn."

He helps you help him out of his clothes, and then his lips are on yours again, while he shuffles the two of you along the bed until your head is on the pillows. You run your hands through his hair as he kisses down your chest. You need his mouth on you, everywhere. You reach behind you and unclip your bra, letting your tits spill out in front of him. He groans at the sight, his mouth instantly attaching to your nipple.

"Fuck." You moan as his tongue swirls around your nipple. HIs other hand reaching down to stroke you through your thong. "Oh, Yoongi."

He kisses your nipple goodbye and lifts his head up again, his fingers still working painfully slow on your sex. "You're so beautiful, Y/N."

"I know." You bite your lip, mimicking your interaction from the last party. Who knew back then, that this is where you'd end up a couple weeks later.

He captures your lips in a sweet, slow kiss. So tender that it surprises you and has your other lips leaking. He parts himself from you again. "I'm gonna help you relax now, okay?"

"Okay."

And he does. He eats you out like a man starved. Like he's wanted this and nothing but this since you moved in. A part of him he didn't think could feel satisfied just from eating pussy. You sounds, your scent, your expressions, your body, your words, your red hot angry eyes that you show only to him, and the look of pleasant surprise you show only to him too.

"Yoongi you're gonna make me-"

"Uhuh." He pants, his tongue coming up for air before pressing down on your clit.

"Oh god, yes, right there. Don't stop."

You sing. Yoongi doesn't think he's ever heard a piece of music quite so beautiful.

-

He lays next to you for quite some time while you come down from the cloud he placed you on with his mouth. After a few minutes you reach for him, trying to touch him in anyway you can, but he takes your hands and folds them against you.

"No..." You whisper.

"Not tonight, love." He presses a kiss to your shoulder. "I don't think I can last long after that. Besides I need you to be awake and really ready for me."

"I am." You yawn, already accepting defeat.

He chuckles into your hair and then stops. "You still smell like overpriced cocktails."

"Ugh." You try not to think about reality, but the memory of the night comes barging in.

Dancing. Jungkook. The argument. The drink. The key. Yoongi's mouth on your-

The boys, who could be home any minute.

"I should go wait in the kitchen." You sit up quickly, scooching to the end of the bed.

Yoongi is surprised by your quick movements. "Hey, relax. You need to sleep."

"Yeah, in my own bed." You glance at him and then soften. "Sorry. I'm just not ready to deal with more looks."

"Ookay." He collapses back into the pillows. "You know the way out."

"Always the gentlemen." You roll your eyes. "I'm glad I got the full Yoongi experience." You stomp to the bathroom and shove the t-shirt on. You walk back over to the bed.

"I need some bottoms."

"Oh." He gets up then, and reaches into a different draw. "Here, where my boxers."

"Yoongi, I'm trying NOT to get more suspicious stares tonight."

"Fine." He picks up some basketball shorts off the floor. "Satisfied?"

You snatch the shorts and stuff your legs into them, they're a bit baggy but you roll them over to keep them from falling down. "Thanks. For everything."

"You don't need to thank me for anything." He stares at you in the small light of the bedside lamp.

You smile quickly and dart out of the room, your non horny braincells finally returning as you pad down the hallway to the kitchen to wait for Jimin to return with your key. This was even worse than kissing Namjoon or Jungkook. Yoongi kissed you. Everywhere. Yoongi.

The one that teased you, the one that had a constant rotation of girls leaving his room every week. God, you hoped he was clean. At least you didn't have full on sex. Just as importantly, at least he seemed to act casual about it, as if the two of you didn't just break the one unspoken rule of the apartment. You wonder how long he'll keep his dirty mouth shut about this.

It isn't long before you hear an abundance of footsteps shuffling out of the elevator and entering the apartment. It can only be the boys back from the club, no one else would be moving around that loudly at this time of night.

"Hey! How was the rest of your night?" You try to put on a bright facade as you hug your knees to your chest in the dining chair.

You're met with mostly concerned faces. "We couldn't really enjoy ourselves after you left." Hobi tells you. "We were too worried about the two of you."

"Really?" You search all of their faces. Tae comes and pulls your head to his body, stroking your hair. Jin is at the cupboard, pulling a couple of instant ramen packets out.

"Yes, really." He looks over his shoulder at you with a soft expression. You give him a small smile back.

"Where's Yoongi?" Hobi asks, as Jungkook plants a wobbly Namjoon onto the sofa.

"Uh, in his room, I think."

Jungkook looks over at you, tonguing his cheek. "He just left you out here?"

"No, I mean, he stayed out with me for a bit, but he looked pretty tired so I sent him to bed."

"You're too good." Jimin approaches. "Why aren't you in bed?" He looks you over. "And what are you wearing?"

"You have my key." You smirk, distracting everyone from your outfit. "Um, and Yoongi gave me some stuff to change into, seen as my dress was soaked."

"I'm soghhy." Namjoon calls groggily from the cough.

"It's okay, Joon!" You call over to him, chuckling.

Everything would be okay. Sure, things were complicated now, you practically were checking off your room mates on a kiss list but you were safe and dry. There were worst things to be dealing with. This would blow over just like your kiss with Joon and hopefully now Jungkook. You were all mature adults! Plus, you had to give it to Yoongi after all, he knew how to relax you.

"Well you sure perked up." Jin tilts his head. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah." You lower your nose into the collar of the t-shirt, breathing in Yoongi's smell. "I'm super."

---

END OF PART 4

oof well there it is...hope you enjoyed ;) stay tuned for part 5 <3

[mindlessfvcktoy]

How do I brainwash my toy to be a braindead toy like you?

um i used alot of stuff. hypnotube: mindwash reinstall & brokenwings666 vids. but those are like kinda extreme so probly u wanna warm up slowly so heres like the best i can remember of what i did...

edit: theres a good simple short vid on there called "love dick" which is like a 10 min blowjob compilation brainwashing thingy thats like pretty basic and inoffensive and good for a beginner edging sesh

first i found bambi sleep. theres a website now called bambi cloud with a training plan on there where u listen to a different playlist every day for like idk 20 days or something? plus platinumpuppets on there is a rly good add on. but i started with just the original bambi sleep sessions in order and would redo them over n over. there was also like a quit-relapse cycle for along time but i hope thats over now, im ready to be bambi / Daddys mindless fucktoy forever.

edit: should add the bambi series ties the bimbo persona to like an alter ego named bambi...it can be just a sometimes thing like a fantasy. but over time and with the stronger files it gets more permanent...the bambi persona is linked to like wearing a "uniform" but i kinda hacked it by deciding that like being holes and tits and wearing my collar 24/7 is enuf of a uniform for me. sum ppl get all dolled up for it which is fine but once u go back to regular clothes it kinda fades i guess. anyways if u search files on bambi cloud they do also have permanent files to boost the originals so ur always bambi. but bambi is one of the scarier ones which is why i branched out later.

later on i found Master C Hypnosis on spotify, it was soooo addicting. warning tho he is one of the many tists who makes their stuff about submitting to them on a personal level. i even went down to where he lives for a short time but thankfully life had other plans and i did not stay. but he uses some pretty common induction scripts tbh so maybe do ur own research and hypnotize ur toy one on one instead. on that note theres like alot of discords and reddits on the topic where maybe u can learn it from other tists and maybe practice on dumb hypno esluts.

um anyways later i found warpmymind and soundgasm theres alot of stuff there. i rly like curse / permanent files and have a taste for the extreme. theres one called bimbo secrets of filthy pleasures thats old and got taken down but one of their other files idk the name on still has me hooked. its fuck pig something or other but like i said its extreme so be warned.

a big thing for me was like religious trauma and going too hard too fast so i would get spooked and back out and try to be smart and normal again for awhile before relapsing. it ended up conditioning me even better that way but if your toy gets spooked she might leave you so be careful.

anyways ummmm so like i found neural nets and pretty patterns which is like earworms and conditioning mostly. they have other "narrative" stuff but i just like the conditioning ones. i paid for the patreon just for a month so i could download all my faves but they have alot of stuff on soundgasm. cock dumb and suck and fuck and cook and clean and umm mind pump(?) are all good like starter ones.

and edging to hypno gifs and vids and files and all that is good too

yeah idk i guess thats everything?

obvs theres the like in person bedroom stuff too.... using your toy sexually and dominating her in an all encompassing way that makes her feel safe is like the glue that holds it all together. i wanted a Dom for years, trained off and on, served other men as best i could before i found Him. He loves me unconditionally and has from the start, together we address my traumas, communicate, care for each other... He knew from the start who I was and what i needed. so just love her and let her become herself and release shame and embrace submission. slow process and sometimes u take one step forward and two steps back but in the end its all worth it.

hope this helps 💕

[ilikeacidcandy]

GR bot blahblah

(bro I love the silly bot on cai w my soul -not mine-, I'd chew thru his skull💕 Not planning to try make it on Jai tho)

Some changes to the version from sim scenario, so, here's screenshots n collages of em bcs my brain needs to have it all organized yet in the same visual place.

Some things are cropped so it may seem confusing to read and that's when Blue indicates where it last happened,

Cyan is the initial parts to keep,

Yellow is optional/unsure,

Orange is further revision on what to keep,

Green is details/ideas (my calligraphy is disastrous in cellphone)

The emojis were the first attempt to differentiate areas where it might be better to cut out.

The nsfw parts are the ones I got lazy to redo, full on only reducing and not adding almost anything.

☁️Green stuff, check to better analyze the comparison and if it's logical to how the Moves work in-game, (flash, wave -strength bit didn't convince me, didn't want to think how to make it work atm-) like, yeah he's not a rock nor pokémon but still. Also more references to moves, (magnitude, wrap, add minimize too, rollout maybe to imply how what he choose hit w increasing damage everytime)

Idk, I'm obsessed w that kind of thing.

[icharchivist]

Also some yesterday's relink thoughts (since i was too beat to mention it here), i still haven't finished the game but i did finish chapter 8

-So far the plot continue to impress.

-The boss fights are fucking insane. The generals of the church are fucking hard. The primals are even harder. what the FUCK was that fight in the desert?!

-Would kill to have Siete meeting the Harvin lady though. they'd be friends. or rivals.

-Also the Primals' designs are all so damn cool. The one from Lilith's primal in particular is so intimidating. Reminds me a bit of what The Devil should look like though.

-Seeing Lyria in this situation was completely gutting.

-But I totally fell for Id now too and we cheered when he turned on Lilith so now we just hope he'll join us for good.

-Lilith is like, pure villainy and all, an Astral like we know and love them (derogatory), but she's also like, super funny about it? We were looking at her profile yesterday and laughing because her 3D model is always floating like "nope i'm not setting a foot on this heathen's land", and Salt commented on how her profile looks like "Hobbies: don't let your dreams just be dreams! / Dreams: Destruction." and i'm still thinking about that.

-Rolan. Like i said a bit before reveal i did kinda expect him to have this history with Lilith, one he might be ashamed off and trying to right. I only got wrong that i thought his shady attitude was because he was aware he would be using us and that if we went against his plans he'd turn on us -- easy mistake since it's such a granblue thing to do. Instead i was completely blindsided by the Astral reveal lmao

-But it's so wild to see an Astral actually being nice? actually caring for Skydwellers? Like we've heard of them in some background stuff (Orchis' father come to mind), but the ones we met in the story were all such... well..... Lilith-type that it blindsided me lmao. So nice though.

-which also means he's now a meow meow with a savior complex AND the immortal dread of knowing he'll outlive anyone he cares about. he adds up to the pile of what we obsess on here. What a guy

-The Boss Battle to get Lyria back was epic. And heartbreaking. And the way they took into account who you had in your party made it even more heartshattering. God it was a good scene.

-PLAYING BAHAAMUUUUUUUT. the game crashed right after this fight so i had to redo it but it was so cool.

-Anyway back to Rolan why did Lilith evaporate him twice this is so evil D: at least he's not dead but wow. Also Lilith backstabbing him is just so. Is it the way Astral just kill people?

-Going back to the town we were told "you saved your princess in distress, now let us handle it" and the chat collectively went "well, Rolan now is our princess in distress" so glad we agree.

-Also shout out to Rackam, esp following a Fate Episode where he says he never know what to say to women and he's uncomfortable around them, hitting us with:

not beating any of the gay boy allegation. Make sure Noa doesn't hear you though.

-Granblue Localization my beloved:

-Also aside from the fact he keeps dying (but it's okay he's an astral he'll be fine (copium)), Rolan is such a nerd but like, exactly up-my-alley type of nerd. 10/10 would sink my teeth into him.

-And should mention it but yeah one "flaw" ultimately is that playing the game in Japanese adds a level of difficulty because they have plot relevent dialogues and/or tips for some battles in the middle of some battles and most of the time i have to pay close attention to the flow of battles and can't let the dialogues set in. For people who would have been worried about missing some of the dialogue by playing in Japanese, i confirm that, yeah, that's a concern. I'm still stubbornly playing it that way but it is a bit tougher.

Anyway so i stopped after we got Lyria back and before going to look for Rolan.

Outside of the plot, I finished the 4 knights set an also got Cagliostro (who is SO FUN to play???)

So the plan today is that i need to wrap a few things up, then i'll get back in th egame, i'll go through all the fate Episode that were unlocked since then, and then i'll get back to the main plot.

I think i'm on the last stretch anyway so i'll probably wrap it up today.

but it was so damn fun so far i'm enjoying myself so much.

[open--till--midnight]

Trapped | alt version

geralt x fem!reader

redo of this. basically it went from friends to lovers to enemies to lovers

warnings | smutty smut 18+, minors DNI

wc | 1.2k

a/n | oh yea, and Geralt is a bottom. also i didn't proofread, sorry

****

You always hated missions like this. You were perfectly capable on your own. But Geralt, who you only associated with due to mutual friends, was forced to come with you. Yennefer had insisted it was a two-person job, for two very skilled individuals.

A box. A fucking jewelry box. A tiny one, at that. What could possibly be so important that she sends you both down here in these horrid ruins? To be honest, you tried not to care. In and out. That was your job. And the witcher was just an accessory.

Geralt had walked ahead of you, doing whatever it was that he did while searching. While your approach was far more organized, going over section by section, investigating anything that stood out.

You thought you had it when you saw a gleam from between a pillar and the wall by the door. It seemed too easy, but you hadn’t thought of that when you reached for it.

Almost as soon as you grasped it, a stone wall slammed down over the entrance, trapping the two of you inside.

"What the hell?" Geralt spun around at the noise, locking deadly eyes with yours. But you couldn't speak, not well enough to respond.

He decided not to engage, it wouldn't help the situation and he knew it. There was also the little fact that he really didn't want to fight with you, if not just for now. So, he began looking for a way out, along with the box.

"Do you always have to be so careless?"

"Hey, it's not like I wanted to be down here in the first place. You think I wanted to get stuck in some disgusting cave thing. Much less with you?"

"If you paid attention this wouldn't have happened, y/n."

"God's, alright, I get it. And would you stop looking at me like that?"

He continued to glare, though there was a strange twinkle in his eye.

"Trust me, I'd rather not look at you at all. But someone got us stuck in these damn ruins, and there is literally nothing else to look at."

“Well, why are you looking at me like that?”

Geralt was unaware of the way he was gazing at you. A whirlpool of emotion stirring behind yellow irises. There was the usual contempt, aided by the quirk of his upper lip, but there was more than that. An intrigue, maybe. Surely something you had never received from the witcher before now.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re looking quite lusty, witcher. Would make a bit of sense, really. What’s one more insanely unstable relationship to add to the list?”

"What are you talking about?" There was something not unlike desperation in his eyes. His shoulders hunched over, bringing his front as close to you as they were able while still maintaining his usual distance.

"Yennefer?"

"That's over. I guess it never was anything anyway.”

"Figures."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're a whore, Geralt."

"What about Dandelion, hmm? Still think you’re so perfect?" A gut punch, but you could fight back.

"Triss?"

For a moment, your eyes locked. The only sounds were that of your breathing, soft and faltering. Geralt’s eyebrow quirked up when you narrowed your gaze.

“We might die in here.”

“From dehydration, yes. If we don’t kill each other first.” His brow stayed raised, trying to gauge your actions.

“We don’t have to fight.”

It was you who made the first move. Every so gracefully, you slammed your lips upon his. Though, you gasped after pulling away seconds later. You were about to walk away, it felt wrong not to ask, but there was no way those words were coming out of your mouth. Geralt, I still hate you, but would you please just fuck me senseless? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

It seemed that Geralt understood what was going on, and before you could walk away, he pulled you onto his lap. With just about as much grace as you had, he cupped the back of your head, bringing you back to his lips.

You could feel him growing beneath you as you pressed every inch of yourself against him. He groaned into your mouth before his nimble fingers worked the laces of your armor. Thankfully, his much more complicated set had been abandoned while searching, leaving him in a simple shirt, which you deftly slid off of him.

Once his chest was bared, you struggled to not comment. There were so many things you could say to bring him down, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to say any of them. Instead, you would show him who was in charge, hoping that would rile him up a bit.

“What do you want from me, Geralt?”

“Y/n.” You could tell he was trying to intimidate, but it wasn’t working. You could see the arousal in his face and hear it in his voice. There was nothing this man wouldn’t do in this very moment.

“I asked you a question.”

“I want to- ugh- I want to fuck you.”

“Uh uh,” you tutted, “turn that around, witcher.”

“Fuck you,” you pressed yourself further against his restrained cock, earning another grunt before he hurriedly continued, “Fuck me, y/n.”

“Good boy.” You pulled off the final layer that was separating you and slowly, painfully so, worked him until you lined him up at your entrance. He looked like he was restraining himself from completely taking over, but you knew he wouldn’t do that, so you took your time.

You let him enter, only slightly, before lifting yourself up off of him again. You would repeat this until you sank down on him completely.

Geralt was still sitting on the desk, you on his lap, when you began to set a fast pace. Your hand reached around the back of his head and grabbed a fistful of his silvery hair. You swallowed his moan as he began grabbing at your ass.

Gods he was loud. You didn’t know if it made you want to slap him or kiss him even harder. Maybe both? Taking in the already rough way you were fucking him, you decided to take it a step further.

Roughly, you grabbed his jaw and made him look at you. When you were sure he was ok, you planted your lips firmly on his.

As you felt him near his climax, you reached down between your legs, but not before Geralt could swat them away and do the work for you. He steadily rubbed circles around your clit, working you up to your high.

You pulled back from his mouth and your eyes locked. No words were spoken, but a conversation was being had through your eyes. Your soft moans evolved into something louder and Geralt's grunts grew even more frantic.

His head fell into the crook of your neck, a softer sound escaped him as he finally came. Shortly after, you had as well. In the heat of the moment, your teeth found their way to his shoulder.

Before you could catch your breath, Geralt was kissing down your chest and his hand grabbed a handful of your breast. You wanted to ask what he was doing, but for the moment, you couldn't care less.

"What makes me so different from everyone else?"

"Honestly?"

"Mhm."

"This."

You didn't have time to respond. With a whooshing sound and a clap a portal appeared. A familiar raven-haired mage stepped out, Yennefer.

"Well, I can honestly say I was not expecting that."

[itsxcowboyrocksteady]

A Kiss at Mid-Dwight

A Kiss at Mid-Dwight: A Dead by Daylight One Shot

Pairing: Dwight Fairfield x (GN) Reader

Contents: SFW, Fluff, Just something cute

Summary: Dwight heads over to your New Year's party hoping to find a way to tell you how he feels about you. Turns out, you have something in mind.

A/N: I've been really sad the past two weeks and I literally just wrote this right now while waiting for my teammates to get back from watching the ball drop at their respective parties. So I'm sorry if it's a little sloppy >.< And I promise I didn't forget the Claudette fic. I just needed to do something for Dwight right now. It's really short this time... And, no, I'm not sorry for the really bad pun lol

💗

Dwight fumbles with the buttons on his vest as though his hands won’t cooperate. He had to redo them twice already when he missed a button hole or two. Getting frustrated at his nerves, he takes a second to breathe and do it again.

Finally! he thinks as he fastens the last one and smooths it out with both hands. With a sigh, he takes one final look in the mirror, hoping he looks OK.

He doesn’t know why he’s this jittery about going to your New Year party. Or rather he knows, he just feels really silly for it. He likes you a lot. And he knows that an invitation to a party doesn’t mean anything, but he can’t help himself from hoping.

Since you asked him, he’s been thinking of all different scenarios of how he can tell you how he feels. He knows that it might not be the best timing to do it at a party with a bunch of your friends that he’s never met, but he still keeps fantasizing about wrapping you in his arms at midnight and kissing you.

It’s all he thinks about, even though he tries not to, on the way to your place. And his nerves find him again when he makes it to your door.

You open it, and he can tell that you’re genuinely excited that he showed up.

“You look so nice!” you tell him, idly touching the collar of his button up shirt.

“Thanks!” he says, a little too enthusiastically, before chuckling nervously. “Thank you. So do you,” he adds, at a much more reasonable volume.

He’s a little overwhelmed with how many people are there, people he doesn’t know. He had wanted to try to make friends with them, both because he thought it might be nice to have some people to hang out with and to show you that he could get along with them. Now he wasn’t so sure he had the nerve to talk to so many of them.

Dwight spends most of the party on his own, or idly being a part of conversations here and there. Feeling down on himself, he starts to wonder if it would have been better to stay home and ring in the New Year by himself as usual. But he’s startled when he feels someone grab his hand, and turns to see who it is. He gives you a big smile when he sees it’s you.

“Follow me,” you say, smiling back and leading him into the living room area where people have started to gather around the TV.

He’s confused that you take him to the back corner of the room, apart from the rest of your guests. But he has butterflies in his stomach that only intensify when he sees that it’s close to midnight.

But you turn to face him, not the TV, and you put your hands on his waist, looking him in the eye like you’re also a bit nervous. Like you also feel a fluttering in your stomach. And when he places his hands on your arms, he can’t help but notice that your hands fidget slightly for a moment. And he can’t help his heart leaping at the idea that maybe you were hoping he’d kiss you this whole time, too.

No, don’t get up your hopes, Dwight, he tells himself.

You spend the last ten seconds of the year like that, looking at and holding each other. And at midnight, it’s Dwight that makes the first move and softly presses his lips to yours. As is usual for him, he has a moment of fear that he maybe shouldn’t have done that, even as he’s still kissing you. But it all fades away when he feels your hand on the back of his head, fingers running through his hair, as you kiss him back passionately.

The room is full of people who you both forget are there. All that matters is each other. You are the only two people in the world in this moment.

When you finally do break away from each other, both looking at the other with dreamy eyes, it becomes clear just how much you were both hoping for this. How badly you wanted each other.

You smile at him and break the silence. “Happy New Year, Dwight.”

He smiles back, and says, “Happy New Year,” before pulling you close for another kiss.

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

Mysterious Girl (Part 7-2012)

Summary: A mysterious figure saves your life...twice, and becomes an integral part of it.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

A/N: I think there should be 3/4 more chapters after this, depends how long each chapter is though

Warnings: None? I think. Let me know if I should add any

Word Count: 2096

Series Masterlist

—————————————————

“You ever go to college?” Nat asked you while you browsed the shops on the high street, nudging the Trinity College hoodie you’d given her.

“Yeah, a few times, gotta boost that CV”

She laughed, “uh huh, I’m sure they don’t question the degrees being done in the 1960s”

“That much I can fabricate”

“So which degrees?”

“Civil Engineering, Computer Science, Russian, English... Might need to redo computer science actually, I think it’s progressed a bit since”

She tilted her head at your comment questioningly, “when did you do it?”

“Oh, 19...53? that’s when I started. University of Cambridge”

“Yeah it’s changed a bit” she confirmed,

“Did you do any?” you asked back. She nodded.

“I’ve done some online degrees. Criminology, biology. I did do a computer science degree as well, part of some undercover work in 2006″

You faked a gasp, “oh, wow, did you have a laptop and all? How new-fangled”  you joked, smiling when she laughed again. You were glad that this side of her never faded, that she was still relaxed enough to laugh with you. It had taken a large part of those first few years to break that down, and you’d feared it would be lost in those other 190 years apart.

Natasha’s style was different from yours, that much was clear. You gave nervous thumbs up at how she looked trying on outfits, but your mouth dried up every time she emerged. The leather jackets (of which she apparently needed many) made her look badass, and she always paired it with tight fitting t-shirts and jeans. It was stylish... and also hot.

“yeah, looks, um, looks very good” you croaked. She raised an eyebrow with a knowing smirk. 

“That’s your only comment?”

You pulled yourself together and returned the grin, very obviously looking down at the outfit you were wearing; old jeans and an oversized t-shirt. “I can’t exactly comment on style”

“Yeah... you can’t” she agreed, looking you up and down. You may have said it first, but you couldn’t help but frown, she wasn’t meant to agree. “You’re close though”. At this she moved forward, tucking half the shirt into your jeans. In doing so, her fingers brushed against your waist and you stiffened. While she was still looking away you shot your gaze to the ceiling in frustration, this was getting embarrassing, you couldn’t handle a simple innocent touch?

She grabbed a belt off of the rack and thread it through your belt loops. Then took a step back to appraise her work, “See. Stylish”

You had to admit it did look better than the teenage boy look you had been rocking before. Not that you’d ever really cared about what you looked like before, but for Nat you wanted to put some more effort in. So someone as stylish as her wouldn’t have to trudge around with you. That was the only reason, not that you wanted to impress her or anything.

“Alright, alright, it’s better, sure” you admitted, removing the belt and scooping up the clothes Natalia had liked, bringing them to the till. You grabbed Nat’s wrist when she tried to find her card. She sucked in a breath in... annoyance? You weren’t sure, but you kept her hand steady as you produced your own card, ready to buy the lot.

“You only got a belt, I can pay for my own clothes” she whined, but you shook your head,

“nuh uh, I can take this one”

“but it’s only fair if I pay”

The cashier laughed at the antics but presented you with the card machine. “Oh look, it’s done. Too late Tsarevna” you shrugged when the payment went through, releasing her arm... which she promptly used to lightly slap your chest.

“Hey, I just paid for your stuff and that’s how you react?” you teased through a frown.

She sighed overdramatically, “thank you Y/N”

“So, what next? Loki did a lot of damage so I guess you’re stuck here for a while”

“There’s worse places to be”

“...Not a great answer to the ‘what’s next’ question”

“Well,” she flicked the large hat you’d put on, “miss floppy hat, you probably need to get back inside soon. It can’t be giving you much protection”

“It’s not, no” you frowned, “my skin does feel like it’s on fire right now”

“Y/N what?!”

“It’s ok, I’ve tested it. I can last a bit longer without getting damage” you shrugged.

“We’re going home right now.”

Once off the mains streets, you ran, leading Natasha through the back alleys of your home town at the speed of sound (actually, just under, a sonic boom tends to draw attention) until you arrived back at your house. “I’ll be in the basement” you said, handing the bag of clothes to Natalia for her to put away. Then you headed downstairs, closing the shutter door behind you and sealing out any trace of light. Your basement was a great setup; a lounge, kitchen, and bar all in one, and zero windows so it was pitch black.

Seeing in the dark wasn’t exactly like it was in the light. You could see perfectly well, every detail as clear as day. In fact, it might have been even better, the dark was, after all, what your eyes were made for since the transition. But the vibrancy wasn’t there. It was what you had missed most when you were turned initially, when the smallest sliver of sunlight would have burnt you to a crisp; colour. Just the intensity of colour and the warmth of the sun. It was why you constantly risked going outside in the day. But now you had to rest, let your eyes return to their natural state in the pitch black room.

Natalia joined you soon after, and thankfully also didn’t feel the need to turn the artificial light on. “How long did it take you to stop burning up?” you asked, patting the seat next to you. 

She shrugged, leaping gracefully over the back of the sofa to take her seat, “Red Room always sent me on night missions so it was a recent discovery. I just had to run outside to avoid capture and then realised it wasn’t hurting”

“Risky”

“Yep”

“Well, um, I’m glad you didn’t die” you muttered. You kept your head facing forward but you could see the smirk and head tilt out of the corner of your eye.

“You’re glad I didn’t die?” she teased and you nodded mutely.

“D’you need any blood?” you asked suddenly, standing up and pacing to the mini fridge in the corner. She watched you in amusement, waiting a few seconds before replying, “I suppose I could do with some. Do you have any blood bags?”

Now it was your turn to tease her, “I sure hope that’s not how you refer to people Tsarevna”. She sighed and you tossed a bag at her, which she caught with grace.

“Um, uh... I’ll be upstairs” she said, racing off before you could even comprehend it. You hesitated, not expecting her to hurry off, but shrugged. She’d rarely ever fed in front of you when you’d lived together, perhaps she just liked the privacy.

—————————————————

The next month passed incredibly quickly, the ease you had always felt around Natalia having returned at once. Even if she was Natasha now, and even if you were really struggling to hide your ever-growing crush.

You carried on with your daily routine, doing everything you had been doing before the red-head came back into you life, only now you had company, and it would be a lie to say you had missed it. Natasha had to keep working, but often remotely from your house. Small things, like reviewing files or coding, she did on her laptop. (You tried to help but she was right, coding had changed since your degree in the 1950s). But she did also have more demanding tasks, taking missions for SHIELD, mostly the ones in the British Isles, and some in Western Europe too.

You always felt... odd, when she was gone, far more worried than you should be about a vampire/trained assassin. But you’d seen her get hurt before, and going another 190 years without her, or, forbid, an eternity, was out of the question for you. So you’d see her off anxiously and greet her with relief at her homecoming. You shouldn’t worry really, she was rarely gone longer than a day.

—————————————————

A rapid knocking on your bedroom door woke you up that day. You rarely needed to sleep, but you’d been holding it off for a while to build excitement before your birthday, so you had been genuinely exhausted when you’d gone to bed that night.

Natasha had not gone for the same route. “Wake up, Y/N!” she yelled, “get your ass out of bed and open this door”

You grinned despite everything, you were rested enough, even if it was- you checked the clock and groaned- 6:30AM, great.

Natasha almost fell through the doorway when you opened it, her knocks not ceasing until that moment. She stood herself up, regaining her balance, then grinned widely at you, “happy birthday”

“Thank you Nat” you smiled back, holding in a laugh at her dishevelled state.

“Come on, I baked you a cake”

The laugh broke through at that, “yeah, I can see. Did any of it actually go into the oven?” Her responding glare would have been more menacing if her face and clothes weren’t splattered with flour and cake batter. You could even see where she’d run her hand through her hair by the white mark it had left behind.

You followed her to the kitchen, the small cake (clearly you were right that not all of it had gotten in the oven) was decorated with a red 216 in icing. When Natasha moved to the other side of the counter from you, you paused, grin fading from your face, “please don’t get stabbed this time” you told her seriously and a knowing expression crossed her face.

“So long as you don’t get kidnapped either” she replied

“I’ll try my best”

“You better. Now come on, enough of that conversation, eat some cake”

You smiled up at her, cutting into the, very solid, sponge cake. “Thank you, for this”

“Always. I can’t have you forgetting your birthday again”

“216, 217 next May”. The two of you were silent for a moment as you served the cake slices, but she smiled at your reply.

At last she looked up, eyes seeming to analyse your face. “When was the last time you had a cake for your birthday?” she asked seriously, not looking away even when you did.

“Would have been my 26th. Haven’t had many close friends since then”. She leapt over the counter, pulling you quickly into a hug,

“I’d offer to bake you 190 cakes to make up for it, but when you taste this you might not want me to” she admitted, having had her first bite already.

You raised an eyebrow, trying it for yourself; only to open your mouth and let the mush fall back out. “Yeah, you’re right. Please don’t”

“You’re a vampire now, it was always going to taste of nothing” she laughed,

“Sure, sure, but the texture shouldn’t be solid. I swear you used to be a better cook than this”

“Well it was a lot easier when you’d pretty much eaten nothing warm in your life. Now you have standards to compare me too.”

“I guess we can stick to blood bags” you suggested, “and give this to the birds”

“Oh, I have more news to give you” Nat announced later on in the day, waiting for you to ask for elaboration before continuing. “Stark tower’s been fully refurbished, and now it’s Avengers tower, so we can move in whenever we like.”

“How long’s that been done?” you asked. It was clear she was excited about moving in, and if she said it had been finished the minute before, you wouldn't have been surprised.

“A week”

“A week? And you didn’t want to move in sooner?”

“Sure they’re my friends and all” she explained, “but I thought it would be nice to have a birthday celebration alone, just like the old days”. She looked nervous at the admission, eyes darting around to various locations on the floor. You stepped forward, lifting her head up to look at you. “It was perfect” you reassured, “but we can move there as soon as you want”

Next Chapter

[ren-therose]

The Penthouse Plot

Sherlock X F!Reader (3.8k words)

Summary: Sherlock, John and Reader all go to a penthouse party to pick up some clues about their newest case. But Y/N and Sherlock are put in a compromising situation. 

Warnings: smut 18+, semi-public sex, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), creampie, squirting, after care

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We are going to a party”

This was an incredibly abrupt statement from the detective who was still in pajamas at four in the afternoon, slouched down into the arm chair with the news paper covering his face. I couldn’t see his emotions, but I could tell that the idea had already been formulated, and he had not quite been excited out of it. His boredom was chronic, and it would often times only be soothed by myself to get him out of it. 

The first time we met, I was sitting on a park bench in Paddington Street Gardens, not but two blocks away from his flat. As if drawn to the cigarette I was smoking, he walked up as casually as he could, coat turned up, and sat on the bench over from my left. I didn’t look, but I was aware that a tall, dark man was watching me as I tried to solve today's crossword in the paper. 

He leaned closer, trying to take in the smoke for the nicotine high. With a slight glance his way, it was all I needed to take the cigarette from my mouth in my left hand, and casually rest it on the bench next to me. I blew out the smoke to the right side of my mouth though, purposefully keeping it from him, allowing my lips to guide the smoke in a stream to dissipate into the morning air. Still looking at the crossword, I began filling in 20 across, feeling a sense of intrigue and frustration emanating from the man next to me. 

“It’s not diva, its aria,” a deep voice says. I smirk, not looking up to his face quite yet. 

“No shit, Sherlock. 18 down is ‘erie’, so why would I put down diva?” I inquire, but before he could answer, I reply myself. “I was proving my hypothesis: is the detective next to me just trying to second-hand smoke, or is he actually paying attention to me? And the answer was both.”

He stands and comes to sit on my right side, not looking at me directly. The cigarette dangling from my lip wasn’t his main concern anymore. 

“How quickly did you realize it is only an herbal cigarette Mr. Holmes?” I ask, erasing my trap from 20 across. 

“As soon as I first looked at you. You have no stains on your fingers from the smoke, as well as no burns, which tells me you don’t smoke often. If you were a smoker, you would need at least a pack a day, and these tell-tale signs would be there. You don’t need to smoke because there isn’t an addiction. I presume you do it to attract men, though possibly women too, and to fit into the culture of London, as you are not from here. But you specifically looked up this park because you were looking for something or someone. I would presume it is me, considering you recognized me through my name” he says smuggly, finally looking at me. I didn’t know it then, but he later explained that he was shocked to see the prominence of my “subtle beauty”, and the way in which I held posture in every way that symbolized I was relaxed next to him. This of course was followed by the fact that I was so comfortable that I had gained a pound within the first year of knowing him. 

“So you are as good as they say,” I reply, looking up into his clear blue eyes. Those eyes dart down to my lips where the cigarette is still being held by the moisture of my mouth. I remove it, holding out the cigarette between my fingers. “I can imagine it is worlds different from a regular cigarettes addictive effects, but the smell of smoke and the herbs inside might calm you,” I offer. He leans down and takes the cigarette in his mouth, inhaling deeply. I let go of the cigarette as he leans back and removes it. He exhales out, happy to have something other than CO2 leave his lungs. 

“You could have phoned” he said nonchalantly. I closed the newspaper and turned my body slightly more towards him. 

“No I couldn’t. This isn’t about a case or me looking for my parents or some shit. I needed you to listen. I am a doctor and I am looking for the topic of my next publication” I state. His eyes widen a bit, as he gives me a once over. I was quite young to have a doctorate, but the ambition I have was intriguing to him.

“Great, another doctor. And you must study some form of psychology right?” he implies. 

I chuckle as I brush the hair behind my ear to look at him as I explain my credentials. 

“BA in a social science and a minor in Women's Studies and Gender, just to make it easier on you. Two masters in something to do with policy and a knack for behavior trends across cultures. A PhD in…” I trail off to let him figure it out. 

“International Relations. You couldn’t let go of the need to work abroad and help other. You also study the difference in human behaviors and how it can be interpreted and persuaded. It is why you are now living in London, after living in a southern European country, and I’m going to go with Italy” he responds. 

I raise my eyebrow at him. “Italy was fun. I spent most of the time on the mainland with a friend and would visit their family in Sardinia”. 

“He was gay wan’t he?”

“Not that he himself knew.”

The detective laughed. It was the beginning of a friendship, with many late nights, bad coffee and fighting. I lived in the basement of 221 Baker Street, after coming to a bargain price with Mrs. Hudson if I agreed to get rid of the black mold and redo the space for future renters. When I asked her why she was already thinking of future renters, she just smiled and told me Sherlock's door was open and I could just walk in. 

Now, a year and a half later, I was in his flat, in my own night gown and robe, working on pot of tea to make a London foggy, one of Sherlocks favorite drinks I could make. I had told him that if he got to work in his pajamas, or just a sheet at times, then he couldn’t expect anything less of me. But his abrupt statement that we were going to a party had me do a double take. 

“A party? Are we feeling like clubbing tonight Sherlock?” I tease. 

“It is just a bit of field work. But I need you to come with as my date so that I am not bothered by lonely, sad women.”

“Ah yes. All the lonely, sad women will flock to the handsome, cocky detective for comfort and an inquisitive night,” I mock, bringing the tea to him. 

“Isn’t that what you did?” He says without looking up. 

Offended, I grab the paper from his hands and smack him on the head with it. He flinched, protecting his tea from me. 

“Haven’t you figured it out by now? I’m here for John” I say, tossing the paper into his lap. Sherlocks mouth slightly gapes before he snaps it shut, looking behind me. 

“I’m sorry, what did I just walk in on?” John says from the doorway. Sherlock turns red as I walk up to John, pulling my leg up on him, placing my hand on his cheek while giving him a lingering kiss on the other, maintaining eye contact with Sherlock. “Afternoon John,” I say with a flirtatious growl. He didn’t move since my dramatic act, and as I exited the apartment to get ready, I hear John exclaim “I could get used to that kind of welcome”. I laugh as I hear the paper get thrown at the doctor. 

Two hours later, and a lot of fighting with a curling wand, I hear a knock at my door. I do a once-over of myself in the mirror. It was a high-end party, requiring a more put together look, and I was determined to look my best. In helping Sherlock and John, I realized that I rarely dressed up-practicality and professionalism is key. 

I put my phone into my handbag, and slipped my feet into my black pointed stilettos. One more once-over in the mirror next to the door, and I unlatched the lock. As soon as I opened it, the detective couldn’t help but let his eyes wander. My hair was in loose curls around my face, and the dress, oh the dress, flattered my body in every way. It was a silk green dress, that hugged every curve. It was ruched in the sides, creating a tight draping across my abdomen. The fabric on my bust sat just below the tops of my breasts, and dropped to my off-the-shoulder sleeves. I was wearing a simple emerald necklace with matching earrings, and a ruby ring on my left hand. My legs were well accentuated, and the stilettos did wonders for my posture. Still, I was the same girl in pajamas at this now well suited man's place as I was now. 

“You’re giving yourself away Detective,” I flirt, walking by him to climb the stairs to the front of the building. I make extra care to add a little movement as I climb, knowing he would be right behind me and very distracted. It was my favorite game to tease both of the boys, but especially Sherlock. It was always a game, and he loved games. As I exited the building, John was waiting for us outside, also dressed sharply. His eyes widened as I walked towards him. 

“In the words of a great detective, ‘Your body betrays you’ John. It’s still me inside this get-up. Now where is the cab?” I ask. 

“Umm...uh, there hasn’t been an available one yet...” he forces out. 

London was busy on a Saturday night, and it could often be difficult to find a cab. Lucky for us, my dress is pretty reflective, and I was going to use that to my advantage. I stepped off the curb just slightly, jutting out my shoulder blades and putting my weight on one foot to give myself more shape. By the time I had raised my hand, two taxis pulled up. I heard a cough behind me, Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson both smirking at me. 

“I’m sorry, did you have a better idea?” I shoot at them. I open the door for myself and climb into the cab. The two men clambered in after me. 

The party was at a lovely high-rise in the middle of London. It looked to be a penthouse, but one grander than I had ever seen. As the three of us exited the elevator, we looked at each other once more, setting our plan in motion. John was to walk around and mingle, while Sherlock and I were to snoop about the place, looking for context clues. I grabbed a flute of champagne from one of the trays, and Sherlock and I began our promenade. We quickly realized that I was drawing a bit too much attention in my get-up and we would need to look around before people noticed we were gone. Our arms entwined, we strolled past the main crowd into a hallway, casually chatting the weather. The detectives hand was on my waist, holding tightly, as though I might leave his side. It was different than they way he usually grabbed my arm to move me around or out of the way of harm. 

We were looking for the bedroom of our hosts place, though, it did not seem there was one here. The penthouse was more of a party pad then a living space, which lends more to our profile of him. We continued to walk, and came across a study. His hand slid off my waist as he entered the room. I stood outside with my drink, while Sherlock took note of every little detail there. As he came out of the room though, I heard footprints coming round the corner. I grabbed his arm and pulled him into the bathroom next to the study. As I pushed him in, our eyes searched each other for the next move that we hadn’t initially planned. Though we were going as a date, it was never really a date. Until now. 

Grabbing the lapels of the detectives suit, I slammed my lips on his, pushing us both backwards onto the sink. Knowing that he was more recognizable. I spun him around so that my back was to the sink and his was to the door. I jumped on to the sink, hiking up my dress a little higher, so that I could hook one leg around his waist. Instinctively, his right hand went to my leg to hold it up, and his left hand was in my hair. 

His lips. I had seen them a million times before, studying his face as he rambled about a case. While he was just a colleague and possibly a friend, there were a few times when I would fall asleep thinking about those lips. And here he was, kissing me on a bathroom sink at a party, with enough force to make me melt into it. My hand went to his hair, as he began to trail kisses down my neck, hiding his face in me so that his reflection could not be seen. My other hand was gripping his waist, trying not to slip into the sink itself. My shoe was dangling on my toes as our bodies continued to crash. We heard the door click open, and my eyes opened to see the host and his assistant wide-eyed at us. 

“Occupied,” I panted, smiling with a small wave. The two quickly shut the door, their footprints receding down the hallway. As soon as it was quiet, Sherlock froze on my collarbone, neither of us moving for a moment. I removed my hand from his hair, trying to pat it back into place. He stood up, and looked down at me. My dress had ridden up further, and my black lace panties were definitely on display. So was the red in both of our faces. I glanced over his shoulder to look at the door, realizing that there was a lock on it. Sherlock didn’t look back. He kept his eyes on me. 

He knew there was a lock. He wanted the situation. He wanted to get caught.

“Lock it” I demanded.

He took a few steps back and turned the button, locking the door. His eyes didn’t leave me. I was still propped up against the sink, both hands propped up behind me. My legs had still been open, and as his eyes raked over my body looked, I grew self-conscious and went to close them. But he stepped towards me, grabbing my lower thigh. I hesitantly opened myself back up for him. His hand moved up my thigh, while the other wrapped around my waist, drawing himself closer to me. I placed a hand on his chest, running it up until it was at the nape of his neck, playing with his soft, black curls. I gently tugged him toward me, and our lips attached once more. This time, it was more more sensual. Taking the time to just allow ourselves to feel one another. As he pulled away, I let out a small gasp as I felt his growing bulge against my clothed core. 

He seized the opportunity to kiss me again, letting his tongue wander and explore my mouth, pulling me as close as I could be to him. He pushed himself against me, causing a soft moan to escape, as I involuntarily rolled against him. He smirked against my mouth, moving once more against me. I hissed, feeling myself grow wetter. 

Sherlock pulled me off the sink, wrapping both of my legs around him before pinning me against the wall. I was sitting just on top of his cock, and the friction was even more frustrating. I grinded down on him, kissing his neck, while leaving small bites in between. I needed more though. I unwrapped my legs, and he lowered me to the ground. When he placed me down, I kissed him with passion while I started to undo his trousers. He walked backwards to the sink, leaning up against it, as I palmed him through his suit. His low groan made me quiver as I licked a long stripe up his neck to his ear, wear I softly bit the lobe. This drove him crazy.

Pants still undone, he whipped us around so that I was against the sink again. He pulled my dress up enough so that he could hook his fingers in the lace of my panties and pull them down. He lifted me up on to the sink to get them off of me. He worked them past my heels, and placed both of his hands on my thighs, rubbing circles into them with his thumb. His forehead was resting on mine and we were both breathing in sync. I opened my legs for him, as he traced his way between my legs. The violinist in him was showing, and he was going to work out the tension and boredom he had been feeling all day. His fingers came in contact with me, running through my folds. He went from my clit down to my opening, just toying with me. I let out a whimper as he placed his middle finger just barely inside of me. He slowly pushed his digit inside of me, causing a guttural groan to escape. I bucked into his hand, desperate for more. He pumped it casually, as if he had done this to me a million times and knew how I would react. He then slipped a second finger into me, causing me to emit another moan. 

“Please Sherlock. No games,” was all I could manage. 

He began to pump his fingers in a come-hither motion, curling them to hit my g-spot. I gasped with every movement, keeping as quiet as I could. He was working his way to get me as wet as I could be for him. I was starting to feel the tension in my stomach build when he placed his thumb on my clit and made sharp movements with it. I cried out, gripping his shoulders for support. I was going to need him soon if he wanted to me to finish with his cock inside me. But he kept pumping and rubbing, watching as my face conveyed every emotion he had ever made me feel. My arm wrapped around his neck, as I could barely keep myself up anymore. 

“Sherlock, you-you’re gonna..m-make me..c-cum…” I stutter out. I am rocking against his hand, chasing what I can’t stop. This only urges him more, as he quickens his pace. Without warning, I cum all over his finger with a cry. But he doesn’t stop. He continues to work my pussy, until I gasp out “I’m...I’m gonna squirt”. He steps out from between my legs, his fingers not stopping. As he steps to the side, he leans in to my ear and finally says something. 

“Show me”. 

It was all it took for my orgasm to elongate itself, as I squirted on his hand. I couldn’t stop and was shaking, barely able to keep myself up. I almost crumpled backwards before he caught me. Once again, he was between my legs, his hands on my neck and waist. I reached for his painfully hard cock, pulling it from his pants. I started stroking him, causing his eyes to flutter close. I was still coming down from what he had done with just his fingers, but I needed his dick inside me. I looked up at him, and said something that I knew would only boost his ego, and he would probably use against me later. 

“Mr. Holmes, I need you inside me, now”. 

His eyes shot open, as I looked back at him with lust-blown eyes. My hand was still wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping him. He and his god-complex were completely enamoured with my new take of teasing him. I lined his cock at my entrance, but not before teasing him through my folds. Just that little movement caused goosebumps to erupt on my skin. As I put his tip in my entrance, he searched my eyes once more for the consent he needed. I pushed myself onto him a little, letting him know he could take me. He leaned in, pushing his length all the way into me. I let out a loud gasp, wrapping my arm around his neck once more, my other hand on his back. I was still throbbing from my previous orgasm, and I knew he could feel my warm pulse inside me. He slowly pulled out, and then quickly sheathed himself inside me again. Our pelvises were against each other and his gently movements drove me crazy. I let out a cry of ecstasy, letting my head roll back, exposing my neck. He kissed it gently, and then, lifted me off the counter and back against the wall. All I could do was struggle to remain quiet as he began quick thrusts deep into me, relentlessly hitting my sweet spot. He was open mouthed against my neck, breathing erratically as he continued to hold me up. 

“You feel, s-so g-good,” I moaned, urging him to continue. He loved it when I complimented him, he had always been that way. But to be inside me as I told him how much I loved his cock, it was heaven for him. The guttural sounds from his throat proved to me that he felt the same.

“Y/n, I’m not gonna last much longer” he said, as though it would deter me. As he began to remove himself, I grabbed his face to look at me. 

“I want you to cum inside, Detective,” I whisper, wrapping my legs tighter around him to prove my point. 

His eyes widened searching my face as I was in taking all of him, bouncing on his dick in a penthouse bathroom, loving everything he did. Seeing what he could do to me, looking into my eyes as I stifled my moans, he began to stutter inside of me. I was on the edge too, and when his hot rope of cum shooted inside of me, my own orgasm exploded, milking him of the rest of his cum. 

When we had both stilled, frozen with him still inside me, we could hear the party still going and the noise of London below us. He pulled his softening cock from me and as he did, our cum dripped down my thigh. My legs were incredibly weak, as he continued to hold me up. I reached for a hand towel to clean me up, but he beat me to it, wiping up and between my legs, careful not to cause pain from the sensitivity. He picked up my underwear that he had tossed on the ground somewhere, and helped me step back into it. I was still shaky if I bent my legs, but I knew he would hold me up. As we looked at each other, there was something new we both saw. Romance. The sexual chemistry that had been there was a response to the catalyst of romance. 

Before we could discuss the aftermath of our actions though, there was a loud banging on the door. Smoothing out my dress just past the door, Sherlock opened it to find John, arms crossed, waiting outside.   

“Are you shitting me Sherlock? You look like you just took a hit of something. Did you seriously lose Y/N at this party because you were trying to get hi…”

The door widened to reveal me, just behind Sherlock, makeup slightly down my fae, and both of our hair tousled. I smiled at John, knowing it wasn’t what he had expected. His jaw dropped, “Tha..you were,,,um...has this been long or...?” Dr. Watson stuttered. 

“No John, that was the first time and it won’t be the last” he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me past him. 

“Don’t be too jealous John,” I said with a wink. 

John didn’t know what to say except, “Are we done here?”

Sherlock and I walked arm in arm down the hallway, casting back a look at John as if to say “What do you think?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~

This was my first oneshot and was it trash? Yeah, maybe. So if you know me, no you don’t :)

Leave suggestions if you’d like, I’m writing smut I can’t find. 

[tryingmydarndest]

Thank You (Luka Couffaine x Reader)

Summary (Part 1/probably 3): The author goes on a bit of a tangent about how Y/N goes on a bit of a tangent about Viperion. Who may just have a little, big ol' crush on them?

Tags: -not enough actual relationship -fluff -but like, a weird sprinkling of angst that I didn't plan on right at the end???

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Inspired by this fic by @seriously-sirius-black <3. Luka? OOC? Idk, probably, I don’t write fanfic. But I am actually kinda proud of how well Alya turned out. Writing this made me realize how much of a mom friend I apparently headcanon her as. I wrote this gender-and-as-everything-else-neutral as I can make it (lemme know if you see ways I can improve, tho idk how much more fanfic I'll even be writing). Also, I freakin' RAMBLE and overuse italics, but ya get what ya get and ya don't gotta fret. Ooh, important note for future parts (if i write them) - this is a kinda!au where the miraculous users keep their miraculous. also if I had a nickel for every time I get awkwardly specific about the placement of both of a character’s hands I’d have TWO nickels. Happy reading!! <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Part I - Paris's Cutiest Heroes

The look currently on Marinette’s face as she sputtered out a response was priceless, “Cat Noir? Cat Noir!? What makes you think I’d find Cat Noir attractive at all? And- and- HIM- the cutest superhero! Ridiculous!”

“Utterly ridiculous?”

“Nice one, Alya”

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” you gave Alya a high five on your way to your seat next to Juleka and Rose on the couch facing Marinette and Alya. A sunny Friday after school was the perfect place for Kitty Section and their entourage to hang out. Unfortunately without Ivan and Mylène, seeing as their anniversary called for a private celebration. After pushing a couple couches onto the deck of The Liberty, Alya had predictably started talking about Paris's resident hero team. Today, she chose to ask everyone who they deemed the cutest, and she made sure to jump on Marinette's... interesting response, “And girl, he has the same silky golden hair and dreamy emerald eyes as Adrien Agreste. What’s utterly ridiculous is you freaking out and dodging every time we bring up superheroes!”

The designated snack-boy, Luka, walked out precariously carrying three bowls of goodies for everyone, “Alright, I got more popcorn. Sorry, but looks like we’re out of cheese flavoring, Y/N”

“Oh... that’s fine. I honestly wasn’t expecting it since I forgot to ask,” your free hand not reaching for the bowl rubbed the back of your neck, “but thanks for remembering.”

“Oh, um yeah- Always," is it creepy to remember something so specific? Someone as nice as Y/N wouldn't be interested in some creep. Ugh. Luka took a seat with his own bowl after passing Alya and Marinette theirs. He ended up next to you on the floor, leaning against the arm of the couch, dangerously close to touching your legs.

Rose reached for the popcorn as she interjected, “You know, Alya does have a point. So Marinette, why don’t you just tell us who you think the cutest superhero is, if you don’t like us guessing?”

Somehow Marinette’s face went even paler as she spoke, “What- I mean, I don’t- I haven’t thought- Wha- what about Y/N? Why aren’t you interrogating them?”

Alya crossed her arms, “Because Y/N says the same thing about the same hero every day. Just watch. Ahem, Y/N, care to weigh in on the cuteness level of our lovely Parisian superheroes?”

You looked up from the bowl you had stolen back from Rose with wide eyes, "Hey! Okay, no, that is not fair! Besides, what is our criteria for 'cute'? I mean... Are we going just by physical characteristics? Is costume a factor? What about the animal they're representing, could our opinion of that make this whole thing unfair? And cuteness is so subjective anyway... Why are we even reducing these amazing and honorable superheroes to just their looks? I mean we could be talking about skill, or their powers or power lev-"

"-And your answer would be exactly the same. Seriously, are you done trying- and might I add, failing- to talk yourself out of this one yet? Or should I just read the article you wrote for the Ladyblog?"

"You said you deleted that!"

Luka had perked his head up at your initial fumbling response and turned to you when he spoke, "You wrote an article? That's pretty cool."

You rubbed your face to try and distract yourself from the burning embarrassment, "Umm, yeah. But it was terrible and extremely not. worth. publishing." You hoped the glare you sent the girl in question was enough to scare her into deleting it on the spot, or to at least lie about it, "So Alya kindly deleted it, right?"

Sitting up with a smug look and crossed arms severely lowered your faith that she'd keep quiet. "A good journalist archives everything. Especially something as juicy as one of her besties going on for five thousand words about how dreamy the great Viperion is," dramatically fake-fainting into Marinette's lap, Alya could barely finish before bursting out in laughter. Of course, quickly followed by the others joining in to varying degrees. Juleka and Rose happily giggled to themselves, Marinette looked more relieved that the heat was off her, and Luka seemed to be shocked, or maybe just holding back to see how you were taking this.

Horribly. Horribly embarrassed would describe how you were taking this conversation. You sat there stock-still as you hoped that none of the others could hear your heart's desperate attempts to pound its way out of your chest. That's certainly all you could hear, at least until Alya's voice brought you out of it, "Hey, it's fine," she made her way over to sit next to you as she continued, "We all have our little hero crushes. That's why I bring it up all the time, to show you that it's totally normal! I mean, we all know how I could go on about Carapace for days," Alya gestured for the others to continue, and used her other hand to try and comfort you.

"Well, I find Ladybug to be just absolutely adorable and so kind.... oh it just makes me so happy knowing she's keeping all of Paris safe," Rose added softly.

Juleka brushed a strand of hair aside as she spoke, "Rena Rouge is super mysterious, pretty rad in my opinion."

Alya was rubbing your back like the mom friend she is to try and help encourage you, "See? Super normal, so go ahead and release all this pent up Viperion energy that I know you have. Maybe it'll encourage Marinette here to finally join in the fun!" Alya stuck her tongue out at her best friend, who responded promptly by smashing her face into a pillow.

You just sighed, "I mean- it’s- it can't just-'' were you supposed to just get over it all just like that? Well, at least the embarrassment was wearing off, maybe you could just entertain her for a bit, "Well- um, you see.... HisHairJustLooksReallySoftAnd- you know what. Nope. Can't do anymore of this. Yep- that's all you're getting out of me!" This time when everyone started giggling, you were able to comfortably join them. It was a nice feeling.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A nice evening chilling out with your friends was always welcome, especially with the rising number of akumatizations making that less possible. But the night had come to a close. Alya and Marinette went home, Juleka was walking Rose back herself, and Luka and you had volunteered to clean up. Luka stopped drying the cup in his hand for a minute as he looked at you, “Um, I know it might not be my place, but I want you to know that you don’t have to be embarrassed about the whole... Viperion thing.” God, how am I supposed to take the news that MY crush has a crush on.... Sort of me? Am I supposed to count it as me at all?

“Oh, um. Yeah, thanks. I think I’m over the embarrassment now that it’s out. I don’t know, it’s just that a lot of people think it’s weird since he’s kind of a new hero,” how are you supposed to explain this to him? That you kept such a non-issue secret from him, especially without getting suspiciously defensive about it. “And then people use that to try and say that I only like him for his looks..... And that’s not it! I don’t know, it’s kind of.... A lot? To explain, that is.” This was not going well.

“Oh... Well, what is it? That you like about him, I guess.”

This was so not going well. But he was waiting for a response so... “Uh, well I guess it did kinda start..... that way.... but then I started doing research. I learned about his power and saw videos of his fights. He’s really good! Especially for being so new, which kinda goes into why his power makes me like him so much.” Shit. Rambling, I’m just talking and talking and I need to stop. But how am I supposed to change the subject now? And now Luka’s sitting down, and he seems so invested. Why does this have to happen to me?

“What do you mean by that?”

Luka’s voice kindly shuts your little thought-spiral in its tracks. What were you saying? Oh, Viperion’s powers! You can talk about this, you know this. Just keep talking, at least he seems interested in it, “Well, you know how he can go back and redo the last couple of minutes?” Luka nodded, “Well, we always see the time that worked out. Us civilians get to keep going from the one time it all went right. Just imagine all the times he failed, all the times he couldn’t get it right. It could be dozens, maybe even hundreds of times! He must get so discouraged at some point, I mean I know I would.... I guess I didn’t really think about it at first, but.... but, I doubt I could keep that determination, and I’m so glad Paris has a hero who can, and does.”

Silence. Why was it so quiet? Oh no, he thinks I’m weird. He must think-

“All of this from ‘his hair looks soft’?”

“Hey! You can’t tell me not to be embarrassed, then make fun of me! That’s against the rules!”

Luka chuckled as he said, “Against what rules, exactly?”

“The Rules Of Best Friendship, duh!”

“And who exactly said you were my best friend?”

“Well... your loss, I guess. Now you won’t get an invitation when I plan Rose and Juleka’s wedding,” you brushed off his offended glare as you took the seat next to him.

“She’s my sister.”

“She’d take my side.”

I’d take your side, too. I will always take your side. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

A/N the sequel: I am super bad at finishing things, but I really wanna keep motivated to finish this (like I have a full, probably 3 part, plan for this). If you guys want to help, shoot me a message and I'll send you a link to the google doc I'm writing this on. Feel free to leave a little comment (pls be kind, obviously) and see my writing process! Idk, would any of you guys be interested in that? Would you just get annoyed at having already read the thing before I post it?

[ipuckwithhockey]

Easier Said Than Done- M. Tkachuk

Part 1

Part 2- Can’t stay away from you

summary: Matt knows this is a bad idea but he can’t help himself when the universe keeps bringing you into his life.

a/n: part 2 is here y’all! i hope you enjoy it. let me know what you think!

warnings: cursing

You’ve been settled into a table at a coffee shop for a couple hours with your “time to study” playlist blaring through your headphones and you don’t notice a tall blue-eyed man approach you. When he taps your shoulder unexpectedly you practically jump out of your chair, causing your hand that was writing your beautifully organized notes to knock your cup of coffee off the table, shattering on impact as it hits the floor. The man has quick reflexes though, and is able to jump back and out of the way of the falling cup. 

“Fuck! Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” The man blurts out as you try to take in what just happened. 

You take your headphones out of your ears so you can hear what he’s saying, “Sorry what? I- I couldn’t hear you.” You stutter a bit when you look up at him and realize who he is. You don’t know him, but you do recognize him. 

He was at the Giordano’s about a week ago for their son’s birthday party. You remember seeing him there, his curly mop of hair and broad shoulders had caught your eye, but you also recognized him from somewhere else. You recognized him from the pictures that Lauren has framed around their home, from the advertisements plastered across the city, and from the TV when you get a chance to watch a Flames game. Matthew Tkachuk just scared the shit out of you and you almost spilt a coffee all over him.  

An employee comes over to help you clean up the mess that has been made and sweeps the broke glass away. You and Matthew do your best to help but end up awkwardly apologizing to the employee and then thanking them when they’ve finished cleaning up. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Probably would have gone for a different approach had I known that was going to happen,” Matthew says. 

“Oh, it’s fine. I was just taking—” You look down at the table and you notice that your once beautifully crafted notes are now splotched with coffee. You can’t help it, you try to control it, but the tears start to pierce the corners of your eyes without your approval. It’s completely embarrassing but your stress over law school is winning over your pride and composure. Matthew can see your chin start to tremble and even though you’re trying to hide it, the look on your face says it all. 

“Are you okay?” Matthew asks cautiously.

“Y-yeah” you choke out. “mfine. It’s fine.” Your cheeks are lightly stained with tears and you’re sniffling between words, trying to get a grip and steady your breath as you start to gather your notes. You try to make yourself busy without looking up, not wanting to make eye contact, and praying that he might just leave you be. Instead, he gently wraps a hand around your forearm to get you to look at him. 

“Hey hey. It’s okay. I’m sure we can fix it.” He says with concern in his eyes. He’s trying to be gentle with you because the look in your eyes says you might just crack again as you shake your head no, looking at your notes. Matt doesn’t really know what to do in this situation but he does know that he hates seeing you upset and will do anything to try to help. “Here, how about we start by sitting down.” He motions for you to sit in the chair you jumped from moments ago, “And I’ll get you another coffee, okay?” He asks, still looking at you with caution. You can’t say anything because you’re afraid you might cry again so you just shake your head telling him okay before he leaves to go order you another coffee.

While he’s gone, you’re able to calm yourself down, taking some deep breathes as you tell yourself it will be okay. You know it will be and you know that your stress is causing you to over dramatize the events that have unfolded. You also know that you have another set of the same notes at home and that you were just redoing them to help you study. A few minutes later Matthew returns with the coffee cup he held earlier in one hand and a new one in his other. He sits the other cup down in front of you and to your surprise he takes the seat across form yours. 

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” You thank your voice for not giving out on you and for sounding somewhat normal as you speak. Embarrassment doesn’t exactly cover what you’re feeling, and you’re surprised that Matthew has stuck around this long in general, but now he’s sitting down in front of you and doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere any time soon. 

“I think it’s the least I could do considering I scared the hell out of you, broke a glass… and then made you cry...”  He looks down sheepishly as he says the last one. He feels horrible and quite frankly, very out of his league in this situation. Not only did he ignore his promise to Gio to stay away from you, but he’s also managed to get you to hate him in about five seconds. What makes him feel even worse is that you’re still being so nice to him. This is only adding to his growing infatuation with you, and he curses himself for not having the will power to walk away the moment he saw you. 

You blush out of embarrassment, “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you, and they’re just notes, it’s fine. I actually have a copy at home. I’m just stressed, and I freaked out but I promise you it’s totally fine.” You try to reassure him and the concern he’s showing, and instinctively letting your hand rest on top of his. A simple comforting gesture that wouldn’t mean anything to most people, lit a fire in Matthew that he wasn’t prepared for. His eyes are glued to your hand and when you notice you quickly pull it back, but not without noticing how large and warm it was. But before you get a chance to apologize Matt is asking you what you’re studying for and trying to cover up the blush that has settled across his cheeks. 

“It’s for the exam at the end of the semester, so not for a few months but I—“

“You’re already studying for a test that’s months away?” He looks at you like you’re crazy, and you laugh because when you broke down crying a few minutes ago he seemed pretty collected but now he’s downright flabbergasted, “I’m Matt by the way,” he adds quickly, realizing that you might not know who he is and that it would be polite to formally introduce himself. 

You let out a little laugh, “Yeah, most of my grade is based off of the one exam so you have to study for it all semester.” You explain to him as he nods but still looks confused. “…I’m y/n, you were at Gio’s the other day for Jack’s birthday party, right?” you ask him, and Matt is astonished that you even noticed he was there. Every time he looked at you, you were either entertaining the kids around you or having what looked to be very mature conversations with the adults that made Matt feel incredibly of place.

“Yeah I was. I uh- that’s actually why I came over here in the first place. I recognized you.” Matthew says trying not to sound too creepy, and you can’t help but smile because you can’t believe he even noticed you. Being noticed by any cute guy is one thing, but Matthew Tkachuk had that kind of bad boy vibe that made him that much more irresistible. 

“Oh. Well, it’s nice to finally meet you. The kids talk about you all the time.” You say.

The Giordano kids loved Matt and when you babysat on game nights the three of you would sit together on the couch in matching jerseys, all with the number 5 on the back, but whenever number 19 would get into a scrum the kids would go wild. Reese used to get upset every time it would happen, but her brother has taught her to cheer instead now. Jack really admires Matt and sometimes during mini sticks, instead of pretending to be his dad he’ll pretend to be Matt. (You just try to keep the pretend scrums to a minimum.) It was adorable and he is obviously attractive, but you aren’t immune to the rumors that float around town. He’s a playboy who can take a different girl home every time he goes out. Even Mark and Lauren have even made comments about his bachelor lifestyle. 

Despite those rumors and the comments, you’re genuinely surprised by Matt. He stays with you at your table for over an hour as the two of you talk. You expected him to be pompous and cocky and just like all those douche bags that you met in college. He was cocky, but you didn’t expect him to be so nice or sweet, or even funny. You definitely didn’t expect him to flirt with you. It wasn’t anything too over the top, but subtle things in the tone in which he would speak made you think he was trying to flirt.

Over the hour that you spent together he asked you about your relationship with the Giordano’s and he had plenty of questions about law school. It was actually really sweet. Matt hadn’t gone to college, skipping that step, and opting to go to the OHL before signing with the Flames. Most of his knowledge of the university experience came from his brother Brady’s short stint at Boston College, or a few stories he heard from his friends back home. He didn’t know a lick about law school, and he’s fascinated listening to you explain things that are surely going right over his head. 

He gets so caught up in you that he doesn’t realize how much time has passed and when he looks down at his phone, he realizes that he’s going to be late for a meeting and can’t help but feel a little sad. He doesn’t want this conversation to end and if it does, he doesn’t want it to be a singular occurrence, which is what has him asking if he can have your number. 

And despite the little voices in your head telling you no, you end up saying yes. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.” You reply not able to hide your smile. He’s charming and handsome and completely out of your league, but you figure it won’t hurt to give him your number anyway. He might not even use it, right?

*

A few days later you find yourself sitting in a fancy chair in a boutique that sells $50 scrunchies as you watch Lauren try on a dress that probably costs as much as your rent. She insisted that the two of you go shopping before lunch— on her of course, and no matter how many times you told her that you couldn’t let her do that, she stood her ground and insisted it was her treat. It’s been a couple hours of shopping and you don’t know how Lauren can do this for so long.  If shopping was a sport Lauren would be winning gold at the Olympics, you however wouldn’t even qualify.

You let her buy you a new blouse that you’ll probably get more use out of when you get a job at a law firm and a swanky dress that was probably only appropriate for a fancy party. You’re not sure when you’ll ever get to wear it, and would never have spent that much money on something that you would get so little use out of, but Lauren really hyped you up and when she offered to buy it you couldn’t say no. 

“So,” she says as she sits down in the chair next to yours, “What’s been going on in your life that isn’t school?”

You laugh at that. All you really do is go to class and study right now. It’s pretty hard to keep a job in law school so you’re basically just a full time student. You don’t really have a social life unless it’s studying with your friends or maybe an occasional lunch or dinner out. There’s really nothing new on the ‘not school’ front and you tell her that, getting a lack luster facial expression from her in return. 

“You work too much! You’re young! This is the time in your life to go out and have fun!” She exclaims. Lauren completely admires your work ethic and she’s incredibly proud of you but the mom in her wants to make sure that you’re not missing out on some of the best years of your life because you’re too busy studying. She means well and she has a point, you probably could be a little more active in your social life and this in turn makes you remember who you saw a few days earlier. 

“You’ll never guess who I ran into the other day.” You say as you wait for Lauren to change back into her clothes. 

“Oh!? Who was it? Is he cute?” She asks from behind the curtain of the dressing room, and without even knowing if it was a guy, but not so secretly hoping it is. 

“It was Matthew Tkachuk. And yeah, I guess he is kinda cute.” you joke. 

You can see the surprise on her face as she pops her head out from behind the curtain, “Where in the world did you run into him?” She asks in reply, but you make her finish changing and check out of the store before you answer her. Lauren may be able to shop until she drops but you’re ready for lunch and if you have to hang this over her head to get there, then that’s what you’ll do. 

The two of you leave the store, Lauren with another bag in her hand, and walk around the corner to the restaurant for lunch. “So, where the hell did you run into Chucky” She asks as you settle into your seat and pick up the sleek menu sitting in front of you. 

“Well, if you must know, I was studying at that coffee shop by my apartment, and he came up behind me and scared the shit out of me. I knocked my coffee on the floor and everything.” You tell her in a little bit of a mocking tone, knowing that she’s a sucker for gossip. “He felt really bad though, and bought me another coffee after he made me cry—“

“He did WHAT!?” 

“Well, the coffee got on my notes and I was just really stressed about school so I kind of started crying...” 

“So he wasn’t mean to you? He didn’t do anything rude, did he?” She asks in her best mom voice. It makes you chuckle, and you tell her no, explaining that it was just an accident. You also tell her about how he stayed and talked to you for a while. “He actually surprised me. He’s not as... I don’t know... dick-ish?” That probably wasn’t the best way to describe it, but it probably got the message across but when you look up you can see something brewing on Lauren’s face and it resembles worry. 

“Listen, I’m just going to be straightforward with you. He’s a good guy, but he lacks... Well, he lacks some maturity on the relationship side of his life. I know he can be very charming, but I can’t promise that he won’t hurt you. The stats aren’t good, and I don’t want to see you get hurt by him.” You haven’t even told her about him asking for your number, and because of this, you choose not to. Instead, you tell her not to worry about it, and that you don’t think that door will be opening anytime soon anyway. There might be a very small part of you that is a little let down because he hasn’t called or texted since you gave him your number, but you push that thought to the side. Lauren had a point too, there isn’t any guarantee that you wouldn’t get hurt and right now you need to be focusing on school, and not on a hypothetical relationship. 

*

The next time that Matt sees you it’s not by his doing. He’s tried his best to keep away from you and has resisted using the number that sits heavy in his cellphone. Instead, he stalks your Instagram and goes through your Twitter likes. He feels like he’s back in middle school again as he begins to pick apart pieces of your life. You apparently read. A lot. And most of your liked tweets are from the Sparknotes account or niche memes that Matt doesn’t understand. He may not understand them, but it doesn’t keep him from reading every single one of them in hopes of gaining some sort of insight into your life. 

On more than one occasion he has sat up at night thinking about texting you, asking what you were up to and hoping you would come over. He never did because he knew that one night wouldn’t be enough. Night after night he could have a different girl come and go from his bed, but for the first time in a long time he didn’t want a girl for just one night. But he couldn’t even let himself pick up the phone to ask you out on a proper date because his captain asked him explicitly to stay away. He couldn’t disobey a direct order. And who knows, maybe he wouldn’t be any good at any of this relationship stuff anyway. Unfortunately, that didn’t keep him from wanting to try. All these factors only added to the list of reasons why he couldn’t let himself pick up the phone and call you. He couldn’t justify it and so he pushed the thought to the side. 

The world works in mysterious ways though, and sometimes it will continue to bring two people together no matter how much they fight it. That’s exactly what happened as Matthew came by to pick up Mark on his way to the arena and you were on your way into the house to babysit for the game. You were just getting out of your car when Matthew pulled up in the driveway beside you. 

You can see that it’s him and you try to rush around his car and into the house before you can experience anymore embarrassment. He asked for your number weeks ago and clearly hasn’t used it.  There wasn’t any obligation to do so, but you figure you can assume that asking for someone’s number implies that they are going to use it, except he never did. So maybe he just asked out of pity or maybe he asked and changed his mind.

“Y/N!” You hear him call out your name following the sound of his car door shutting, stopping you in your tracks as you slowly turn to face him. 

“Matt! Hey!” you say a bit too enthusiastically and like you hadn’t seen it was him in the car.

The two of you are at a standstill, neither one knowing what to say or how to act with the looming fact that Matt has your number in his pocket but hasn’t chosen to use it. He knows that he shouldn’t have even asked for the number in the first place and that he’s gotten himself into this mess but now doesn’t know how to get himself out. 

“Um. So I-“

“It’s totall-“

You both start to talk at the same time but you insist that he finish his statement first, “I’m uh- I’m sorry about not calling. I know that’s a dick move-” 

You cut him off, feeling a twinge of confidence arise, “So why didn’t you?” You ask innocently but knowing that you’ve caught the hotshot off guard. 

“Um- I just I don’t know if this is a good idea.” He replies. 

“Well how can you know if you don’t try? Isn’t that the whole point of going on a date?” You say and then realize that maybe he didn’t want your number to ask you out. Maybe he just wanted to see if you would be willing to crawl into his be one night and out the next morning. 

You don’t get a chance to answer. Gio is coming out the front door and doesn’t seem to even notice that the two of you are in the middle of a conversation. He simply waves goodbye to you and ushers Matt back to his car as he starts to talk about something to do with Johnny. Matt does his best to play it off cool, hoping to god Gio hasn’t noticed, and thankfully he doesn’t mention you at all on the drive to the rink. 

Spending time with the kids was just what you needed as a break from your classes, and you let the kids stay up until Lauren gets home from the game. The Flames won 3-1 and the kids couldn’t have been better for you. You’re in such a great mood that when Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance With Somebody comes on the radio, you turned it up full blast so that you can sing at the top of your lungs. The earlier encounter with Matthew is long forgotten as you sing and dance to the radio on your way home. With the radio turned up you don’t hear a text come through. You don’t even see until you’re snuggled up in bed, ready to set your alarm for the next morning, and when you click on the unknown number you’re more than surprised when you read what the message says.

Maybe: Matt: Hey it’s Matt. I think you might be right about the dating thing. Are you free Thursday night?

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Birthday

Summary: could you do a hs losers x reader where the readers new to town and hates her bday bc each year her past friends and family had always forgotten or did nothing so when richie finds out her bdays coming up he tells the losers and they all plan a special surprise party and richie saves up and gets her something super special and the losers r all like wow he’s never gotten anyone anything like this b4 so she finds out that he likes her or something so it’s like the best bday she’s ever had

Richie bikes swiftly passed you, faster than he usually does, which can only mean he’s trying to surpass you. You barely refrain from flipping him the bird in public, as you too throw your weight into peddling. It’s no use, Richie is more athletic than you by a long shot, and he’s been practicing with Eddie for track. You’ll never be able to catch up with him with no viable effort.

‘You asshole,’ you yell out to him, noticing an elder woman pledging through her yard too late to stop your exclamation. She regards the both of you with malcontent, stabbing her hark too brutally in the soil of her allotment for it to be a coincidence.

‘Not my fault your short legs can’t reach the peddles.’

You growl, lifting up from your saddle to race faster, but Richie sees you do it and does nothing but laugh.

Any other time you might give him hell for it, but today, you are in no mood to indulge in Richie’s escapades.

It’s your birthday, and while for most that equalizes a fun day stacked with presents and cake, to you it stands for a day full of misery.

Your birthday is cursed. And no, that is not you being dramatic. At your ninth birthday, your cake got slammed into floor, therefor ruing the gift your parents had been working on for weeks, and which was their only present.

At age ten, you fell off your brand new bike into a ravine and had to go to the hospital to get eleven stitches. On your fourteenth birthday, you and your parents got into such a huge fight they send you up to your room and forbad you from sneaking down at any point in the day.

There are more examples to back up your claim for the terrible birthdays, but you have tried to desperately block them all out, so you won’t rehash them.

That’s why your so peeved that Richie is forcing you to the quarry.

‘If you could tell me where I’m supposed to be going to bet u could find a short cut and be there faster than you.’

‘Nice try Dora, I’m not telling you anything. It’s a surprise.’

‘Alright, I get two attempts. If I can’t guess where we’re going, I’ll do your homework for a week.’

‘And if you do guess it?’

‘Then you owe me a favor and no matter for what reason I cash it in, you don’t get to complain.’

‘Fine, bring it miss know it all.’ Richie slows down to slide next to you, the wind picking up as the two of you descend down the mountain. His smile is mischievous and cheeky, probably too confident to think you’ll be able to reckon the spot he has in mind.

If only he knew that you had limited the possibilities to two places, the exact amount of guess you were granted.

‘Hm, are we going to the arcade?’ Your first theory is. Richie doesn’t have anything on him right now, except pennies that have been rinkeling inside his pockets the entire bike ride, the only thing he needs to go to the arcade.

Richie smirks, and shakes his head. ‘Try one my dear, may I say that the odds aren’t in your favor right now?’

His impressive ego in the way he taunts you with the right answer fuels your desire to be right. ‘Are we going to the Barrens?’ You sing, smiling wide as Richie’s shrinks.

‘Eh, no?’ He says, but he sounds petulant. ‘Fuck this shit, what gave it away?’

‘A girl never reveals her secrets’, you say covertly, forgetting momentarily about the agitating day. You suspect that might have been Richie’s intention.

It’s not like the Barrens is such a stretch in the first place, the losers and you have made that place your own, but you do hypothesize that he may have planned something special for you.

Your theory turns out to be true, as you can spot a long table at the end of the dirt path you and Richie are currently riding on to get to the clubhouse. The table is stacked with a variety of candies, your favorite, drinks that are sweet enough to rot your teeth, something Richie should be more aware off - having a dad who is a dentist-, and a giant cake with eight candles on. Each one representing a loser.

You say nothing as you approach, in a sneaky way torturing Richie a bit more before revealing that you’re at the verge of tears of this nice gesture. Richie slows down his speed by dragging his shoes along the dirt, glances darting nervously towards your face.

‘I know you said no parties, but how else was I supposed to show off my rocking dance moves?’

‘Do you mean the moves you make that look like you’re dying?’ Stan chides, him and the rest of the losers rolling up behind you two. They’re all walking next to their bikes, and Bill’s hands are smudges with cake residue he somehow missed while cleaning up. They didn’t want to be here before you and ruin the ‘surprise’, but it’s clear everyone has worked hard to organize this for you.

‘Fuck you Stan the man, the color green doesn’t fit you.’

‘Happy’, Bev grounds out, leveling Richie with one look, the way only Bev can, and then address you. ‘Birthday.’ She hugs you despite you still holding your bike, and you let it clatter to the ground with a loud bang.

‘Thanks Bev.’

‘Happy Birthday’, the other losers also call out, because there’s just too many of them for each to wait their turn.

‘We hope you don’t mind we don’t have any presents, we spend basically all of it getting ingredients for the cake, which we had to redo- twice.’

They don’t offer any other explanation about why the cake had to be remade two times, but by Eddie’s scowl you can fill in the blanks.

‘No, honestly, this is already too much.’ It is too much, but their efforts are so kind and heartwarming that you have to bit back a happy squall. No one has ever bothered to organize anything for your birthday, whether it be purchasing a two dollar present or even ordering a cake, but these people that you had met less then a year ago were willing to scramble together all the money they could, just so they could turn your day special. Thank god for moving to Derry.

For the first time in years, your birthday has brought smiles and laughter, and no tears and weeping moods.

‘Nonsense my dearest young lady, this is but a blip on our radar, a speck of dust on the tv, nothing compared too-‘

‘Can we please cut the cake now? Before something else goes wrong with it?’ Eddie glowers, refuting to wait for an affirmative.

‘Don’t forget the candles,’ Ben says as he follows Eddie to the table. You’re about to join them, when a hand on your wrists stops you.

‘Hey, Y/N? You really don’t mind this right? I know you said you didn’t want anything but I know how nice it is be caught off guard with something like this.’ Richie rubs the back of his head as if that makes him see any less anxious. It’s incredible how smart someone can be while simultaneously also being so dense.

‘Richie’, you say as you smile, unable to hide it any longer. ‘It’s amazing, thank you so much. If there is any way I can repay you I’ll do that. I’m really happy with this.’

‘That’s good, not that I was worried about it, who isn’t a fan of everything I do?’

Rolling your eyes only spurs Richie on, but it’s become an automatic response now, you can’t help but do it.

‘Oh, I almost forgot. I did get you another gift. Two actually, if you count my huge dong as one.’

‘Gross Richie, why do you always have to add something sexual to everything?’

‘It’s my game babe, love it or leave it. Anyway, here is the gift if you want it. If you don’t that’s fine too.’

‘Don’t get all shy on me now Rich’, you tease as your bump your arm into his while grabbing the package. ‘I’ve just gotten used to your antics.’

The package isn’t heavy, but it also isn’t light. It’s wrapped in enough layer that you can’t feel what’s inside of it just by holding it, but that was probably Richie’s intention. That or he is simply horrible at wrapping up.

While you carefully peel off each layer, you begin to speculate on what it could be. It could be a gag gift, but Richie looked sincere, and his eyes behind his glasses are magnified in true anticipation, a gag gift wouldn’t illicit that response.

As soon as the final layer is detached, you gasp, armored by the actual gift. It’s a blue bracelet, covered in butterfly pattering. You once mentioned having a similar one as a kid that you loved but lost one day while playing outside and had been sad about for weeks.

You can’t believe Richie had kept it in his mind, and had gone out to look for it.

‘Richie… I don’t even know what to say right now.’ You exclaim, squeezing the bracelet in your hand tightly, a blush covering your face. Richie’s mimics yours. ‘Thank you’, you say while reaching out to him and kissing him on the cheek. Richie face burns a brighter red.

‘Yeah… glad to be of service.’ His mind is ball parks away, and he is left dazed.

‘Come on Y/N, it’s time for you to blow out the candles.’

You go easily, letting your hand linger around Richie’s, deciding mentally that you’ll do it tonight before you go home. Your birthday has already been better than anything you could have imagined, and maybe it has one more miracle left to give. If Richie says yes to your question about going on a date, then this will truly have been the best birthday you have every had. By the love struck expression Richie is walking around with, you have an inkling as to what his response might be.

You blow out your candles, but you don’t need to make a wish. You already have everything you could possibly want.

----

‘Off course that asshole buys her a gift, but never returns the money I loaned him so long ago. I’m not a fucking bank.’

‘I think it’s cute.’

‘No, Eddie is right, I’m also waiting on my refund.’

‘It’s adorable he bought her something, he really can’t hide his crush anymore.’