#somebody needs to take this app away from me

[cabesswtaer]

me every other page while reading tsc, probably: “NEW LORE WRITE THIS DOWN WRITE THIS DOWN”

[nomaishuttle]

also my stupid downloads r being annoying AND its cold. in this house

[embarrasingmf]

₊˚ෆ | phone troubles | S.B

SUMMARY: After Butcher leaves you to watch Soldier Boy, you decide to teach him to use a mobile phone.

WARNINGS: not proofread, mention of drugs, implied drug use (it’s only ben doing it), swearing, maybe OOC ben???

WORD COUNT: 885.

A/N: changed the title layout to make it look nicer / neater! ALSO WHY IS THE GIF SO FUCKING BIG HJHJGJGJGJGJFJ

part two!

To be frank, you thought that putting Soldier Boy on board was a bad idea, but Billy Butcher — the guy who was technically your boss — ignored your hesitance and released him from a three decade slumber.

You always stayed away from Soldier Boy, or Ben as you had soon found out, your mistrust and the fact that he was just slightly radioactive kept you away.

Ben didn’t seem to mind either, he never paid much attention to you.

But, the universe and Butcher seemed to have different plans other than you keeping your distance from Ben.

Because now you were standing in the middle of a motel room, Butcher in front you and the rest of The Boys standing near the door.

“I am not staying back to watch Soldier Boy.” You scoffed, crossing your arms across your chest like a petulant child.

Butcher barked out a laugh, “Well somebody needs to watch ‘im.”

“Why not make you or Hughie do it? He seems to trust you two the most.” You offered with a shrug.

“I’m the leader of this operation,” Butcher said simply. “So I needa be there on this little mission.”

You shook your head. “Nope. Not doin’ it.”

Butcher scoffed, “Oh come on, luv! Just do it!”

You shook your head again just in a more firm manner this time.

“If I tell you to do sumthin’, you do it.” Butcher said firmly, taking a step closer and pointing a finger at you.

You raised your hands in mock defense. “Okay, okay! Just don’t kill me..” You grumbled.

Butcher let out a triumphant huff before turning to the rest of the people in the room,

“Alright, let’s get outta here.”

You watched Butcher and the others fill out of the room before you turned to Ben, who was sitting on the bed while holding a The Seven merchandise cup in his hand.

“Can you believe men wear this pussy-gear nowadays?” He asked incredulously and pointed to the TV, you turned to the TV to see an ad for a baby carrier that a man just so happened to be wearing.

“It’s the 21st century Ben—“ You started, but Ben cut you off.

“Soldier Boy. It’s fuckin’ Soldier Boy you refer me to.” He demanded, shooting a glare in your direction.

“Crimson Countess used to call me Ben, the fucking bitch…” He muttered under his breath, moving to sit at the couch and crush some cocaine.

You stayed silent for a bit after that, eventually decided to just scroll through your phone.

—————————————————————————

After about thirty minutes of mindless scrolling on social media, you spared a glance in Ben’s direction; who was struggling to change a channel with the remote.

“Hey, Be— Soldier Boy.” You quickly corrected yourself, not wanting to face Ben’s aggressive wrath for fucking up what name he demanded you call him.

“Hm?” Ben looked in your direction, raising an eyebrow.

“Come here,” You patted the empty space on the sofa beside you.

Ben crossed his arms defiantly. “And why should I?”

“Because I want to show you something.” You rolled your eyes. “Now come here.”

Ben begrudgingly got up from the cocaine patch he had made himself after ‘the last batch was too weak’ on the table before walking over to the couch.

He plopped down on the space beside you, and you could’ve sworn you bounced a bit because of how heavy this man was.

“Here,” You shoved your phone into his hands, and he looked at your Home Screen.

“Why do I fucking need this?” Ben looked over at you with a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

“Because I wanna see if you can work a phone.”

“I obviously can’t. I couldn’t even work the shitty remote.” Ben grumbled, tempted to shove the phone back in your hands.

But then he accidentally swiped to the side, and he watched as the apps that previously showed up just slid to the side as new ones popped up.

“What the fuck..?” His eyebrows furrowed in barely visible awe.

“You got the hang of it already!” You said with a light laugh, making an up gesture.

“Now swipe up to see the apps I’ve had open.” Ben followed your instructions, swiping up to see what apps you had open previously.

“Huh, that’s so weird.” He mumbled, poking at the screen a bit before he eventually opened an app.

“What is this?” You looked over and notice he was in your messages.

“This is how you text and call people.”

“Like I can text Butcher or Hughie right now.” You continued, and Ben seemed to have an idea in his head before scrolling down a bit to find Hughie’s contact.

You watched as he started slowly typing with just one finger, soon spelling out the message: ‘Hey pussy-boy’

Shaking your head, you looked up to meet Ben’s mischevious gaze.

“Seriously? Don’t send that-“ But it was too late, Ben had already hit send as soon as you met his eyes.

You sighed. Yet, you knew that Hughie would know Ben sent it.

Ben was the only one that called Hughie pussy-boy.

Turning back to your phone, you swiped up again and picked another app for Ben to explore while you showed him how to work a mobile phone.

—————————————————————————

feedback is appreciated, especially since this is my first drabble after not writing for a while!

tags ! <3 : @ryvkkr

[whatifitookalilnap]

Somebody needs to take this app away from me:

[little-diable]

There's just something about you – Professor!Austin Butler (smut)

Well well well, ofc I {as somebody who has a massive prof!crush} had to give in and write this. I think this has potential for a part 2, so please tell me how you feel about that. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader works as Professor Butler's teaching assistant. The two are about to take a trip with his class when she gets sick. While staying with him for the weekend the two finally give in to the pull keeping them chained together.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), professor x TA relationship, quite fluffy

Pairing: prof!Austin Butler x fem!TA!reader (3k words)

picture credit to the original owner

“Alright, listen up!“ Professor Butler’s voice echoed through the room. His words were followed by instant silence, forcing all eyes towards the handsome professor. She stood close to him, not enough to feel his body heat clashing against her, though just enough to hyperfocus on the scent of his expensive cologne – a scent she’d always pick up on, no matter where she was at.

“As you all know, we’re leaving for our trip next week. (Y/n) was kind enough to take over the bookings, but we need you to find one or two people to share a room with. Please send (y/n) an email til Monday, so we can avoid any confusion when we check in. If you have any further questions about the trip or concerns, feel free to reach out to one of us.”

She had joined the faculty as Professor Butler’s PhD candidate and teaching assistant a while ago, slowly having to adjust to being around a man like him. At first, (y/n) had struggled to focus, fighting against the urge to stare at him at any given chance, but slowly she had gotten more and more relaxed around him, actually getting to enjoy her interactions with the young professor. 

“Please don’t forget your homework, alright? I’ll see you all next week.” The room was filled with loud noises as he ended the class, forcing the students to their feet and out into the hallway. (Y/n) busied herself with his notes, rechecking them before she allowed her gaze to find his bright eyes. “You did good today, (y/n), if you feel comfortable enough you can gladly do next week’s class on your own.” 

“I don’t think I feel ready to do this without you yet.” His big hand found her shoulder, leaving her torn between focusing on the feeling of his thumb softly stroking the fabric of her blouse, and the intense eye contact he now held with her. For a second, neither of them spoke, leaving (y/n) to wonder what he was thinking about. 

“Alright, but you’re by far better than me at catching their attention, I hope one day you’ll realise that.” Professor Butler’s raspy chuckle had an addicting effect to it, leaving her to avert her gaze as he took a step away from her. “Chinese takeout while we grade the essays?” 

……

She woke with a pained whine as her hand reached for her phone, trying to read the time. It was Saturday morning, two days before they’d go on their short trip, but her body was clearly fighting against all plans, making her suffer from a sore throat and a blocked nose. Curses wanted to claw through her, cursing fate for pushing her into her misery. 

(Y/n) had been looking forward to the trip for a while, excited about spending some more time with Professor Butler outside of his office and the room he was teaching in. Secretly she had hoped for some more calmer moments where they could go back to sharing information about one another that had nothing to do with their research or their university work. Hopes that were now evaporating into nothing but cold air. 

For a moment, (y/n) pondered over her choices, but her fingers had already started to move before her mind could protest, opening the email app. With a few quick words she sent her professor a small warning, telling him that she was sick and would most likely not be able to join on Monday. She felt pathetic for the wave of hurt and exhaustion flushing through her, leaving her trembling body to search the warmth of her bed. 

It didn’t take long for her phone to go off, forcing her glassy eyes to read his reply. Simple words told her to give him a call with his added number to the email. Perhaps it was the fault of her cold, perhaps it was the fault of her hazy thoughts, whatever it was, it stopped (y/n) from overthinking, clicking on the number before her anxiety could get the best of her. 

“Morning, (y/n).” His raspy voice shot shudders down her spine, momentarily letting her eyes flutter close. She repeated the greeting while internally cringing at the raspy sound of her voice. “Oh sweetheart, you sound horrible.”

Heat rose to her face at the pet name, having to forcefully stop herself from gasping. She could only let go of a hum, not trusting herself to speak coherent words he could easily pick up on. 

“Are you still living alone?” A while ago (y/n) had told him about her struggles to find a roommate, unsure who to pick as she had high priorities she didn’t want to let go of. Once again she hummed, wondering where he was taking this conversation. “Alright, I want you to pack a bag. I’ll pick you up in a few, you’re spending the weekend with me, I can’t go on that trip without you. We’ll get you back to your healthy self in no time.”

“Professor,” she sat up as she tried to protest, having to drown out the sinful thoughts instantly flushing through her mind. “I don’t want to take up any of your space, and you could also get sick. I’ll be alright here, don’t worry.”

“No, you’re staying with me. I won’t accept any protests, (y/n). What’s your address?”

It hadn’t taken long for them to end the call, for her to take a quick shower and to pack a bag. Her heart kept racing in her chest, urging her to move, to be smart about the things she packed. She barely got any time to overthink as he had arrived at her place rather quickly, but now as she was sitting on his couch, wrapped in a blanket, (y/n)’s thoughts finally caught up with her. 

Austin – as he had asked her to call him – was all too gentle with her, tending to her every need with worry tugging on his features. (Y/n) could only guess that she looked as horrible as she felt, tired eyes barely managing to stay open, and yet she didn’t want to miss a thing, cherishing the chance to be so close to him. 

“How about we watch a movie before I make some soup, huh?” Austin plopped down next to her, tugging on her legs to place them in his lap. (Y/n) allowed herself to study him for a few seconds, his blonde hair had that slightly unruly touch to it, blue eyes focusing on his TV. He wore a simple white shirt that perfectly stuck to his muscles, paired with blue jeans that gave him a different touch to the version of him who always wore suits in class. 

“Sure, I’m good with whatever.” He shot her a quick smile that left her trembling, having to calm her racing heart with her grasp on the blanket growing stronger. She barely managed to pay the opening sequence of the movie any attention, getting lost in her thoughts as his thumb stroked the soft skin of her ankle, holding onto her as if he was scared she could slip right through his fingers. 

For the first time in years, she felt an unfamiliar kind of safety wrapping itself around her, clinging to her like a second skin made to protect her, to cherish her, to perhaps even love her. 

……

Quiet steps carried her towards the big kitchen, engulfed in darkness as (y/n) started the kettle, hoping that another cup of tea could finally lull her to sleep. She was too deep in thought to notice his approaching figure, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed in front of his naked chest. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” (Y/n) jumped at the sound of his raspy voice, pressing her hand to her chest as she turned towards him. A laugh clawed through Austin, guiding him closer to her with slow steps. “Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you.” 

(Y/n) had to turn from him, trying to focus on the almost boiling water as he came to a halt behind her, reaching for another cup. His naked upper body was pressed against her back, one of his arms found its way around her waist to keep her close to him. Goosebumps covered her limbs, silently whispering to her, guiding her hand to find his. 

No words were spoken between the two as she poured the hot water into the big cups while Austin reached for the teabags. He loosened his hold on her as if he was begging her to turn around, to get lost in the bright eyes that reminded her of warm summer mornings spent at the beach, getting lost in daydreams that felt more real than memories of things she had lived through. Her body urged her to move, to lean against the counter with her eyes finding his features, wandering over his handsome face. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, (y/n)?” She didn’t trust her voice, knowing that she’d most likely make a fool of herself, but the two hands finding her waist, keeping her caged between his tall frame and the counter, encouraged her to part her lips. (Y/n)’s eyes focused on his neck, on the golden necklace he wore, dangling from his neck like a pendulum about to give her a glimpse into her future. 

“I,” a shaky exhale left (y/n), trusting her mind and heart to guide her. “I keep thinking about how comfortable I feel here. Thank you for letting me stay with you, Austin.” 

She expected him to shoot her his signature smile, to pull away from her to reach for his cup. But he kept close to her, hand slowly moving up to her face, cupping her cold cheek. He forced her to look up at him, making her breath hitch in her chest as she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her lips. 

“I tried to stay away from you, but you’re not making it easy for me, sweetheart.” (Y/n) got no chance to reply, silenced by the feeling of his lips finding hers. Ever since she had joined his team, (y/n) had imagined this very moment, wondering how his lips would feel pressed against hers, how he’d hold onto her as they got lost in their kiss. But this was so very different to all these daydreams, more intense, more exciting even. With his hands finding the back of her thighs, he helped her onto the counter, allowing himself to stand between her thighs as they kept kissing. 

“Now you’re definitely getting sick for sure,” (y/n) mumbled the words against his lips as they parted to catch their breaths. Austin’s raspy laugh echoed through the kitchen, bright eyes burning her skin as if she was caught in a wildfire, about to burn to the ground. 

“For you I’ll gladly take on the struggles of being sick.” His words left her heart roaring, lips finding his once again. Their tongues met in a teeth clashing kiss, wordlessly managing to communicate their longing, the desperate need they had fought against these past months. “I need you to be honest with me, do you want this? I don’t want to pressure you, sweetheart.”

“Take me to bed, professor.” (Y/n)’s smirk grew wider as his pupils dilated, picking her up without another warning. She had her legs wrapped around him, face buried in the crook of his neck. Within seconds they found themselves in Austin’s bedroom, he didn’t give her much time to take in the big room, the pictures gracing the walls, fully focused on him as he pressed her down on the mattress. 

Austin kissed his way down her throat as if he was following the trail of a treasure hunt, high on the adrenaline of the search. (Y/n) trembled beneath him while her fingers tugged on the hairs at the nape of his neck before moving down to his muscular shoulders. Somehow it felt as if they had done this numerous times before, knowing exactly how and where to touch one another. 

He parted from her to pull her shirt over her head, focus instantly drawn to her naked chest. The way Austin was staring at her made (y/n) feel as if he was marvelling at a masterpiece, a creation of old times the human mind barely managed to understand. Carefully he cupped her breasts, groaning at the feeling of her soft skin pressing against his. They held eye contact as he brought his lips back to her skin, sucking on both nipples before kissing his way down her stomach. 

“Austin,” (y/n) choked on his name, begging him to keep on moving, to touch her where she needed him the most. 

“Talk to me, sweetheart, what do you want?” His voice grew lower with every spoken syllable, pushing heat down to her core. She felt her walls clench around nothing, begging him to finally fuck her. 

“You, all of you. Please, I need you so badly.” Without speaking another word, he ripped her panties from her hips, letting his fingers explore her arousal-covered folds. His name rolled off her tongue, she arched her back at the careful touches, trying to shuffle even closer. Austin could do whatever he wanted to her at that very moment, she was putty in his hands, his to toy with, his to use for his own pleasure. Whatever he wanted, she’d do it, if he kept on touching her like this. 

“Will you let me taste you? I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.” (Y/n) could only nod her head, letting go of a breathless gasp the second his rough tongue brushed through her folds. Austin moaned at her taste, he wrapped one arm around her thigh, keeping her pressed to him while the other hand found her clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves with his fingers. Within the first seconds of him touching her, (y/n) had known that she wouldn’t be able to hold on for long, overstimulated by his touches. 

No longer could she spare her hurting throat any attention, no longer did she struggle to breathe on, all she could do was focus on him, on the way he dipped his tongue into her tightness, how he added more speed to his movements, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

“You taste so sweet, I could stay like that forever, if you’ll let me.” She moaned at his praise, fingernails scratching at his skin to try and hold on. Her legs were trembling from the strength she used to curl her toes, unsure how much longer she could stop herself from giving in to an intense orgasm. 

“It’s alright, cum for me, show me how pretty you look when you cum for me.” Austin’s words pushed her into the open arms of her orgasm, calling out his name as he kept circling her clit with a smirk glued to his lips. He watched her every move, every micro-expression he could pick up on, fully mesmerised by the beautiful woman he had wanted to pull closer for months. 

“Oh god,” (y/n) panted the words, drawing gleeful chuckles from Austin as he let go of her. Her glassy eyes watched him undress, gaze wandering down his muscular upper body, past his six-pack to his sweatpants. His cock sprang free as he stepped out of his clothes, a sight that pushed heat straight down to her cunt, needing to feel him buried inside of her. “I need you to fuck me now, I can’t wait any longer, Austin.”

“Mhm, such a desperate girl, we should teach you some patience one day.” He reached for a condom, rolled it down his cock and positioned himself between her thighs. With her hand finding the back of his neck, (y/n) pulled him back down for a kiss, distracting herself from the slight pain as he pushed into her, having to adjust to his size. For a second, they held still, clinging to one another to let go of a few deep exhales, fingers interlaced to try and keep themselves grounded. 

“Move, please, professor.” Austin let go of a growl at the use of the title, building a comfortable rhythm that allowed one another to get used to the sensation. He was careful with her, not daring to hurt her when she was still sick, not fully able to guide her body. But the blissful expression tugging on her features was enough to calm his racing heart, finding enjoyment in the way she clung to him, how she seemingly felt the same pull he did.

They were a mess of tangled limbs, of moans blurring together, of hearts beating in sync, a match so perfect neither of them wanted to break out of their very own bubble. Their bodies met with every thrust, bringing them closer and closer together, while their eyes found back together. 

“My pretty girl, I don’t want to let you go again.” He murmured the words against her lips, luring a soft chuckle out of (y/n). 

“Don’t let me go, don’t you dare.” Her head rolled back as his cock nudged her swollen spot, leaving him grinning in success. Austin kept staring down at her, trying to burn every passing second into his mind, praying that he won’t ever forget about this night. 

“Touch yourself, make yourself cum on my cock, sweetheart.” With a gasp leaving her, her fingers found her pulsing clit, moving quickly to give her the needed push. He fucked her through her second orgasm, letting go himself as she relaxed beneath him. 

Austin clung to her as they both tried to catch their breaths, only parting as they managed to break through the hazy fog wrapping itself around the two lovers. He threw away the condom before he returned to her, cupping her now warm cheek to pull her in for another kiss. 

“How about a bath?” She could only nod as he picked her up and carried her into his bathroom, while making the silent promise to cherish her for as long as she’ll let him.

[lollytea]

how do think willow and hunter first talked about them being bi/pan? or do you think it's just so accepted on the boiling isles that they probably would never bring it up?

(This ask is from back when we got the bi/pan confirmation and I've been saving it, kinda thinking of putting effort into writing something cute and good quality. However I ended up waking up from a nap while the Q&A was happening and somebody told my confused disoriented ass that Zeno was talking about Hunter exploring his identity and going on dates while in the human realm. And I tapped out something very messy and stream of consciousness-y in my notes app in my sleepy state. So you're getting this instead. I don't feel like cleaning it up.)

Like like like it's. Luz putting together her little coming out slideshow for Camila. And the topic of sexualities comes up. And Amity and Willow puzzle out what theirs are nearly immediately. Gus doesn't but he's unfazed by it. While Hunter is like....I...can't say for certain and its bothering me. Like this is a THING that has a chance of helping him feel like more of a person. He wants his very own flag. He just doesn't know what it is yet. He'd like to know.

He likes Willow. He knows he likes Willow. But...there isn't a flag for liking Willow. (As far as he knows. He's thinking of making one. But for now he's stumped.)

There's a very specific route the kids take to the grocery store to collect stuff for Camila. Hunter likes to take the task because he likes feeling useful. Willow also likes to help but she'd be lying if she said another reason wasn't long walks with Hunter. Usually one of the other kids tags along too. Or more than one. But today it's just Hunter and Willow.

They always pass that damn statue but Hunter always averts his eyes and hopes Willow does too. He doesn't like to look at it. But maybe if he turned his gaze towards it every once in a while he'd notice the boy who always sits beneath the statue with a little handheld game console. The boy who always lifts his head when Hunter strolls by.

This is the day when the boy chooses to be brave. There's no gaggle of friends around him today. Just one girl. This is it. This is his chance. The boy marches up to Hunter and Willow in a way that Hunter immediately clocks as similar to his own Golden Guard body language. When he was trying to feel big but failing miserably.

The boy IS big tho. That's the weird thing. Tall with broad shoulders and chunky arms. A cluster of metal pierced into his left ear and a silver stud in his nose. He looks....so cool. So very very cool. Hunter misses the first words out of this dude's mouth cuz he was too busy looking at him and he needs to repeat himself.

So. Hm. Okay. Well. APPARENTLY. Piercings boy thinks Hunter is cute. Which is a staggering revelation that leaves Hunter a little speechless. And if that weren't surprising enough, he's now pushing a little piece of paper in Hunter's direction, babbling something about talking some time. Or maybe going out, whatever.

While all this is going down Willow just.....watches. Smiling. Nudging Hunter when it's his turn to speak and he's forgotten. It's cute. He gets like that with her sometimes too. It made her feel very cool and pretty that she made such a handsome boy nervous. But now....she's watching this little interaction play out and she's realizing....

Hunter's obvious little crush on her. Just how easy would it go away if he met somebody cooler. Somebody prettier. Somebody who's not clearly living a lie and hiding everything from everyone all the time. Somebody brave enough to actually ask him out.

It seems like just as she's getting comfortable in these kinds of situations, an Amity always sweeps in. And that's fine. She's used to it by now.

And also...she....she really cares about Hunter. He's been getting so much happier and experimental in the Human Realm. She wants him to try new things. She wants him to figure out who he really is. And....maybe that version of himself won't always have a little crush on Willow Park. Maybe he'll realize that there's better people out there. And that's okay. Whatever it takes for him to smile.

There's something very ugly writhing in her stomach and Willow pretends it's not there. Instead she yanks up her smile wider and as the mystery boy strides away, she pounces on Hunter. She teases him a little, she asks why he got so very shy. Is it because he liiiiiiiikes Mr Mystery Boy huh? And Hunter doesn't know what to say. He doesn't KNOW Mr Mystery Boy. Willow counters that's what the number is for. That's what dates are for. After a long back-and-forth discussion, its Willow that urges him to dial that number. They have to borrow Camila's phone. And Willow stands there as moral support as Hunter stumbles through the question.

Hunter has a date this Saturday. Which is very exciting. And also weird. And scary. He blushes whenever you bring it up. But Willow happily hypes him up for it every day leading up to it.

On Saturday, Hunter leaves the house at mid day and Willow sees him off, waving enthusiastically. He smiles softly and waves back at her, still twitchy with nerves. She gives a finger guns and assures him it's gonna go fine. He's a catch! This makes him giggle and she swells with pride.

The door clicks shut. Hunter is gone. It feels like a light has been sucked out of the household. Willow's smile slips.

She could head upstairs and hang out with the other girls. She could go down to the basement with Gus. But....right now she'd prefer to be alone.

Willow cleans the kitchen, which Camila is very grateful for once she gets home from work. And then she settles in the living room, snuggles up on the couch and throws something on the TV. Willow sits there and watches for hours. She barely processes any of it. And yet, she's simultaneously so wrapped up in the television that she doesn't hear the door click.

"Eyyyyy, I'm back," Hunter says in that awkward way he always announces his return. And just like that, a light switches and Willow is all zazzed again.

"Ooooooh Casanova has returned!!" She chirps. "A little.....earlier than I expected....?"

Hunter looks a little sheepish but doesn't comment on that. Willow thumps the couch cushion opposite her. "Cmere boy. Tell me everything."

Hunter sits down beside her and after turning to look at her huge grin, he smiles warmly.

"What?" She asks.

"Nothing."

"You gonna tell me how it went?"

"Fine. Um. Normal. For a date. I think? I dunno I've never been on one but I'm pretty sure I did an okay job."

Willow decides to rip the bandaid off immediately. "Any lip action?"

Hunter's reaction was a funny choking noise and a volatile flush across his neck "No!" He blurted. "Just...."

"Juuuuust?"

"Just hands! He held my hand! He held my hand and it was nice! I liked it!"

"Oh."

It's nice that Hunter got his hand held. He has such pretty hands. She's always thought they were very holdable. She's really happy. She's delighted. Just great.

She's a good person who is happy when good things happen to her friends, Titandamn it. And not a secretly ugly resentful person who wishes for selfish things.

"Yeah and. Uh..." He's scrubbing the back of his neck. "We...um. Ended up talking. A lot."

"About date number two, no doubt...." Willow sings.

"There's not going to be a date number two," Hunter answers immediately, knocking Willow out of her depth.

.....huh?

"I....thought you liked him?" She asks.

"I mean. Yeah. He's. He's nice but...but when I said we talked a lot...I might have told him that...." Hunter trails away.

"Told him what?"

There's a pause before Hunter speaks again, his voice a little higher pitched. "Oh! J-just. Just told him about a ton of stuff. Told him I like birds. And I like to read. And...and about Camila being a vet and....and I talked a lot about my friends. Gus. A-and Luz and Amity. And Vee. And uh. And you. And....we...we both decided that this probably wasn't gonna work out."

"Oh...." Willow....doesn't know how to feel about this. She doesn't have to pretend to be disappointed because she really is. Her friend had a chance to have a sweet little romance with somebody cute. And it just didn't work out. "I'm sorry, Hunter,"

But Hunter shakes his head. "I'm not disappointed. I actually....um. I liked it. I've never been on a date before and it....I dunno, it made me feel like a real teenager. Which is dumb to say because I know I AM a real teenager but..."

He perks up. "Oh! Oh and-and um...." His words tumble one over the other though there's a grin tugging at the corner of his lip. "Josh and I we....we figured it out. Me. We...we figured out me. I'm..."

He catches himself and clears his throat, extending a hand to her. "Hi, Willow! My name is bisexual!...Wait! Wait, no! Hunter! My name is....I'm bisexual and I'm Hunter! I...Agh!! Josh said I should come out to you in a smooth way but...."

Willow is grinning ear to ear, always transfixed by his frequent fumbles over the complicated act of putting words together. "You're bisexual!" She declares happily. "Hunter that's fantastic!"

Hunter's smile is soft but there's a hint of pride there too. "Yeah...thanks. I know it is...."

A pause.

"I have completely forgotten what bisexual means tho," Admits Willow.

"O-oh! Oh it's just um. I-I like multiple genders. Today I found out for certain that boys are....wow...."

Willow smirks. "Boys are wow?"

"Well.....arent they?"

She thinks about it for a moment, raking her eyes across the splotchy blush still clinging to his pretty face. Her insides are in a riot of fluttering flower petals.

"I guess they are," She agrees fondly.

"But also I...." He cuts himself off with a sudden bout of breathlessness. He inhales sharply. "Girls..."

"Girls," Repeats Willow expectantly.

Hunter, who has cut his gaze down to his tangling fingers, looks back up at her, manages to hold eye contact for a few very telling extra seconds and says, very clearly. "Girls."

"I see..." Willow is a little frustrated to find that she's also a little short of breath. "So maybe your next date will be with a girl then,"

Hunter's blush flares. "I'd like it to be..." He mumbles. "But..."

"Buuuuuut?"

There's some sort of internal battle raging on. She can see it in the violent twist and turns of his facial expressions. Finally, his throat bobs. "Nothing." He answers.

"Sorry...." He continues. "For coming home early. I just really wanted to...." Why does he keep trailing off? "It looks like you were trying to have some time to yourself. I can leave if...."

"You stay right here, Mr heartbreaker," Says Willow. "Stay here and watch weird human crystal ball shows with me."

A stiffness she didn't notice until now melts out of his shoulders. "Okay. I'd like that. A lot."

Hunter attempts to shuffle into a comfortable position, but what he's not prepared for is his friend Willow suddenly lunging and knocking him against the cushions in a tight tackle hug.

"Congratulations on your name being Bisexual," She mutters against the fabric of his shirt. "I like being the first one told,"

"N-no problem...." His voice cracks a little.

It takes maybe three minutes of comfortable silence and human realm TV babbling for Hunter to pipe up "And I'm not a heartbreaker. I didn't break anyone's heart."

"You could," Willow answers smoothly, not taking her eyes off the TV. "You have way more power over some people's hearts than you realize."

[bagopucks]

N. Hischier - Comfy

✄————————————

Nico Hischier x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 3.3k

Warning(s): Flirty seductive Nico, copious amounts of fluff

Had this one in the notes app, was saving it for an occasion where I might not have had inspo or requests, but seeing as somebody wanted some Nico content and it’s too late/early to be coming up with a story line- here it is!

—————————————

Post-game evenings had always been my favorites. The nights Nico and I lay curled up in bed while he held me, or talked my ear off while I tried to sleep. Nights when Nico came home with so much energy, I never exactly knew what to do with him. Energetic post-game Nico was alright.

But calm, relaxed, content, post-game Nico? It was like hitting a gold mine. Those nights when he came home, dropped his duffel inside the door, and forgot the world to be in my arms. Those were the nights I specifically looked forward to. I always anticipated them. I loved Nico no matter what mood he came home in, but I preferred some over others.

I sat on the couch, my kindle in my lap as my feet rested on the wooden coffee table. Despite the cool weather outside, it was warm in the house. When Nico and I got a place together in the suburbs, I insisted we share custody over the thermostat. So far, we have not come to a comfortable compromise. Our days were often spent adjusting the temperature as we walked through the house doing our own thing. It became a subconscious action. I’d turn the heat up. Nico would walk by hours later to turn the AC on.

Then I’d go back later on to turn the AC off and the heat up higher because of the chill in the house.

Then Nico would come back looking like he was dying of a heat stroke, turn the heat off, and the AC on.

When he was away for games? I always had the heat on.

The game had been playing on the tv, an oddly scheduled middle of the afternoon event. By the time it had ended, the time was nearing 6:00. Prime time for a good sunset. I never really watched it, but I enjoyed the glow it cast through the open curtains of the living room.

My foot tapped occasionally, impatient to get to the good part of a book I began to lose faith in. It was bad enough I couldn’t physically see my progress, but not being able to flip to a whole middle page and read ahead was even worse.

I heard a key jingle in the lock, a smirk formed on my lips as my attention was easily distracted from my book.

“Baby?” Nico’s voice called before it stopped short. He spotted me on the couch, and when I looked up, I knew tonight was one of those nights. My heart fluttered.

Nico stood there with a grin on his lips, his damp hair hidden beneath a ball cap. His suit looked like he barely even got it on before walking out the arena door.

I shut my kindle off and set it to the side, stood from the couch, and met Nico by the door. He dropped his bag so both hands could capture my hips.

“Nic.” I leaned up onto the tips of my toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. Nico hummed as he pulled away. I quickly slipped his hat off his head and tossed it on top of his bag.

“I was thinking about an ice bath?” Oh how delightful it sounded, but I was in no mood to sit down in the bath. Perhaps a bit too lazy to know I’d have to wash myself when I already got a shower that day.

“I’ll sit with you.” I whispered and pressed a kiss to his collar bone. “Wine too?” He couldn’t tell if that meant I was joining him or not, but he didn’t ask.

“Try one of our unopened bottles.”

I smiled to myself, whisking away into the kitchen to find what I needed. I snatched up mixing bowl for the ice, going to the freezer to scoop out a hefty amount. Then I grabbed a bottle of unopened wine, and two glasses, before I had gone to meet my lover in the master bathroom.

I passed the thermostat without taking note of the fact that it had been turned down.

“Ice and Wine.” I showed off the bottle as I entered the bathroom and set them aside. Nico was seated on the lip of the bathtub, having moved the shower curtain out of the tub. He was trying to find a good chilled temperature for the bath water. I smiled at the sight of him and approached slowly, my hand on his shoulder brought his gaze up to mine.

“I’ll sit in here with you, but Nico I don’t think I’m getting in the bath.” His face fell. I pushed a strand of his beautiful brown hair from his forehead.

“You’ll be okay without me. I told you I’d sit right here. You can tell me all about your game.”

“You always get in with me.” Nico rested his hands on the backs of my thighs. “Is something wrong?”

Amusement flashed across my face in the form of a smile and an eye roll.

“I get in the warm baths with you. Not the ice cold muscle relaxing baths.” I pulled away and Nico huffed before plugging the drain so the tub could fill.

“I still relax your muscles in the warm baths.” His comment was sly. Spoken with a straight face, but he knew what he was hinting at. As did I.

I turned back to him and chuckled softly.

“Not tonight Nico.” We were both too physically exhausted to have any fun, and I didn’t particularly mind. My mind wasn’t in that headspace anyway. His didn’t seem to be either, despite the comment that was made.

Nico turned to face me, parting his legs as I stepped between them. I slipped the suit jacket from his shoulders, careful to grip the fabric and pull it up swiftly before a sleeve hit the bottom of the tub.

“Good hands.” He decided to be cheeky. I smiled and ruffled his hair.

“The best hands.” I confirmed playfully as I tossed his suit jacket toward the counter. Half of it landed there before the heavier portion hanging off dragged it to the floor.

“Hands that could-“

“Hands that will not.” I cut him off as I unbuttoned his shirt. Perhaps he was in a bit of a friskier mood than I first thought.

“Fine, I give up.” Nico sighed out. I abandoned the few buttons left, not wanting to bend over and give him any more ideas. He must have caught on to the fact that I wasn’t going any further, because he moved to finish the job before I had turned to grab the bowl of ice from the counter top.

I heard his shirt drop to the floor, and I caught a bit of the fabric on my toe to drag it away from the tub as I turned back around.

Nico shirtless was always a sight to behold. When he was standing, his abs were on full display. Not the most toned, but also not lacking in definition. He was a strong guy, but by no means ripped. I loved the way his body looked. Not chiseled to perfection, but smooth like a marble statue. And comfortable to lay on.

I pursed my lips at the sight and shook my head in the process. Nico’s lips pulled into a bright smile. He knew what I was looking at. He loved to be admired as much as he loved to be touched. Not in an egotistical way, but more so in a rewarding way. He worked hard on his body, and to know his girlfriend loved it.. well that was all the gratification he needed.

“You’re sure you don’t want to come in with me?” His words were taunting, as if he tried to clue me in on something I was missing out on. I shook my head at his antics, stepping forward again and leaning sideways over him to dump the ice into the bath. A few of the chilly drops splashed up and landed on his back. Nico jolted at the feeling, one of his hands clasped my leg out of sheer surprise.

“You sure you wanna get in there?” I returned the attitude, stepping back and leaning forward, leaving space between us but still eye level with him.

“It’s good for the muscles.” His words weren’t exactly a yes, but I reached out and placed a hand on his chest. I gave a firm shove, and Nico about had a heart attack as he tried to catch himself from falling back into the water.

“That’s mean!” He let out a laugh as he sprang up. He hadn’t wanted to be anywhere near the water after my little trick.

“Teasing your lover is meaner.” I set the bowl back on the counter. I leaned back against the cabinets and reached for the wine bottle, only to pause when I noticed the cork. Nico made his way over. He went to grab my hips before I raised the bottle in between us. His mischievous eyes lowered to the bottle, pursing his lips before sighing.

“You wanna be useful?” Caramel brown irises meeting my own. He looked offended, but I knew he was only playing a part.

“Brutal.” Nico took the bottle from my hands, and quickly disappeared from the bathroom. I shut the lid of the toilet in the meantime, and grabbed two towels. One that I put on the counter for Nico, and one that I laid out on the floor by the bath tub.

When Nico returned, the bottle was open and a prideful smile resided on his lips.

“My hero,” I fawned as I snatched the bottle from his hand.

“I try.” I turned back to the counter and grabbed the wine glasses, setting them both on the edge before filling them with a generous amount of the hopefully sweet alcohol. I heard Nico slip off his pants. When I turned back around, I realized he hadn’t bothered taking the time to take off his pants and his boxers one after the other.

I choked on my own breath. Caught off guard, but also amused by the way he stood there, hands held out by his sides with that smirk on his face that just said, ‘you’re sure?’

“Get in the bath tub before I lock you outside naked.” Nico huffed, his head dropping to look at the floor as he stomped his way over to the bath tub. It was a short distance, but he made due with the time he had to throw his little tantrum before stepping in.

I watched his whole body tense, my gaze lingered on his backside. “Take your time, Captain.” Nico’s head whipped around, but my gaze hadn’t moved. He knew I was flirting. Still, he went back to the task at hand. He lowered himself carefully into the tub, and released a shaky breath as he leaned back, his head falling back against the wall of the shower.

“I don’t understand how this is supposed to help with sore muscles.” I mumbled, turning the bathroom light off and flicking the switch on the wax burner I had plugged into the outlet by the mirror. Something to emit a soft orange glow and hopefully burn the lavender scented wax cubes I had in there. I sat on the towel outside the tub, leaning against the porcelain as I rested Nico’s glass on the corner where there was a bit more surface area. His head turned to look at me, dark hair falling over equally dark eyes. A look of fondness flashed across his features.

I took a sip of my wine, patient for him to speak as he got comfortable. Or as comfortable as one could in an ice bath.

“I love you, so much.” Nico’s soft whispers landed on my heart, making it skip a beat.

“I love you too, Nico.” I took another sip of my wine before Nico grabbed his own glass. He shifted his body and rested his elbows over the edge of the tub, smiling all the while as he taste tested the new flavor of sweet wine we had yet to drink. Until now of course.

I eyed him. Nico’s features contorted as he tried to decide his thoughts on the flavor. He nodded his head, before giving a shrug. Then he looked up at me.

“Not bad.” I couldn’t help but laugh. Nico wasn’t exactly high maintenance, but he wasn’t casual either. He could be a little picky with things sometimes. Especially his wines.

“I happen to think it’s great.” I leaned in closer and rested my head against the wall. “Which means we’re getting a second bottle.”

Nico pushed his hair back as he rolled his eyes at me, trying to contain his own smile.

“You need to try Swiss wine.” His subtle excitement was everything to me.

“You need to take me to Switzerland.” I countered softly. Nico leaned forward, and I met him in the middle for a quick kiss.

“I will. I will.” He settled back into the bath tub, his hair falling into his eyes again.

“No rush though, baby.”

“I know…”

Nico tried to push back his hair, but after another failed attempt, I swiftly stood up. He watched me curiously as I walked toward the cabinet and opened it, digging through until I found one of my hair clips. When I returned to the side of the bath tub, I sat on the floor and rested my wine glass beside me. Nico seemed to catch on to what I was doing, as he dipped his head and allowed me to gather his hair back and clip it to the top of his head. He looked a little funny, but at least he could see.

“Better?” I asked, and he nodded.

“Better.”

Nico’s head eventually rested against the lip of the tub. He let out a long sigh as I took in every detail I could. His big brown eyes watched me as I studied him. Like an intricate work of writing. But I wasn’t looking for misspellings or wrong punctuation. I was looking for the well worded phrases and strategic uses of figurative language. The beauty. Not the flaws.

We spent god knows how long in the bathroom. We talked and giggled and laughed, but the energy levels had depleted significantly as time went on. Nico was still in the bath well after the ice had melted and the water adopted a room temperature feeling.

Sometime along the way, our conversations had ceased and Nico’s consciousness had slipped from him. I quietly stood up, slipping the wine glass from the edge of the tub where he’d set it. I finished off whatever he’d left, placing our glasses on the counter before I looked back at him.

His arms were folded one on top of the other on the lip of the tub, his head resting on top of them. His upper body was awkwardly turned on his side, while his lower body still laid flat. It looked uncomfortable. I grabbed my phone to check the time. Only a little past midnight. I pulled up my camera and snapped a few photos of my sleeping lover’s peaceful expression before I walked back into our bedroom. He needed a change of clothes, though I knew most nights he usually preferred to sleep in only whatever loose shorts he could find. He didn’t believe in sleeping in boxers, and quite frankly I didn’t blame him.

I grabbed a t-shirt out of our dresser, just so he’d have the option if he wanted one. I set the shirt and shorts on our bed and tossed my phone beside them. I waltzed back into the bathroom, knelt by the tub, and carefully pulled the clip out of his hair.

“Love,” I whispered before moving my hand from his hair to lightly pinch his arm. Nico shifted uncomfortably at the feeling, then tried to move his arm.

“Nico, your body’s gonna be sore, come on.” I continued to speak softly, but I did raise my voice slightly. He groaned, but eventually his eyes opened. “There we go.” I stood up and grabbed the towel I had set out for him.

Nico yawned and took a moment to wake up before he lifted his head. He eyed me as I unfolded the towel and held it open for him. He rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

“Sorry.” His voice was quiet and deep as he slowly got up. Nico stepped out of the bath and shivered before I closed the space between us and wrapped the towel around his lower body, making sure it was tight before I tucked the loose corner in.

“Don’t apologize for falling asleep.” I reassured before stepping past Nico. I leaned over the tub and unplugged the drain. “You’re cute when you sleep.”

He chuckled softly as his cheeks turned red. Something I didn’t take note of until I was facing him again.

“I grabbed a shirt for you.” I left the bathroom, and Nico quickly followed.

“Might need a sweatshirt. It’s freezing.” I immediately turned around after I reached the bed, glaring at Nico.

“You just took an ice bath! Of course it’s gonna be cold!” His lips pulled into a smile.

“Don’t bullshit me, Nico. Walking around here talking about how cold you are,” I rambled playfully as I turned back to the bed and grabbed his clothes. The moment I looked back at him, Nico was giggling. I threw his clothing at him and tried not to smile.

“Change, you loser.” I teased before going to find my own sleepwear. I settled on a pair of satin shorts and a matching shirt.

Nico was dressed far quicker than I was. I changed facing away from him, but when I turned back around, he was certainly staring at me.

“What is your deal tonight?” I finally asked, laughing. Incredulous.

“I don’t know,” I could recognize the bashful tone in his voice. It’s one I don’t hear often. Not since we got together. Nico had always been a quiet guy. I wouldn’t venture as far as calling him shy, but more so easily flustered. Still, I hadn’t seen him look that nervous around me in a long time. “You’re just so pretty.. I just wanted to look at you.”

Usually I was skeptical about Nico’s compliments. All of them were genuine, but sometimes it was hard to tell when he was trying to flatter me because he wanted something or not. But this one was so innocent I simply knew it was genuine. He didn’t want anything other than a smile.

“You’re so cheesy.” I grinned as I made my way around to my side of the bed. Furthest from the door because Nico insisted I was safer there in case somebody broke in.

His thoughtfulness never ceased to make me happy. I was satisfied knowing he was willing to protect me. Once upon a time, I might have claimed to be independent and happy in taking care of myself. Nothing beats being able to find the right person to surrender that job to. Maybe not full time, but Nico was certainly my protector when he was around.

“Come on, Icepop.” I spoke as I pulled the blankets back and climbed in bed. Nico didn’t have to be told twice. He was quick to join me, slipping into bed beside me and laying down with me. He pulled the blankets up over us, and I quickly found my spot curled into his side.

“Comfy?” Nico whispered. I nodded, resting my head against his chest. I lifted one of my legs to rest over his waist, and wrapped an arm around his torso. He wasn’t really that cold, but I decided not to give him grief about being a baby.

“Always comfy with you.” I spoke softly in response, pressing a kiss to his side.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

[akixa]

Dearie || Lookism

Part 1&2: ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪ ⊹

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪ ⊹Part 3

Once she finally arrives at the house, she stumbles into the living room, dropping her bag on the sofa as she sits on the floor and pulls out the phone, pen, and paper to take down some information on that phone. She let out a long sigh and proceeded to open the phone, go to the music app, and then open the voice recordings. Some of them almost reach 1 hour, while others are 20 minutes. She clicked the shortest one as she maxed out the volume of the phone until she heard a muffled noise and people talking behind her.

"What the heck are you doing?" A sudden man's voice was heard. She leans her ears to the phone closer.

"Nothing, hun; Goo told me to do this before everything went to a mess. You know, for memories proposes." She let out a small gasp when she heard a woman's voice. It was a sweet and soothing spokesperson, but somehow it almost sounded like hers. She feels like she has delusions, but she keeps listening.

"Don't worry, everything will be handled under my hands. If everything goes downhill, I'll make sure to protect you whatever it takes."

"Eh? You sound like I might die on someone other than your hand."

"I'll make sure you won't die, ok?" The audio cut off the man, making her disappointed as she proceeded to write the mentioned name a minute ago.

Note:

1.Goo. (random man who got mentioned)

After that, she listened to another voice recording, but this time there was yelling and shouting in the background. Most prominently, a person recording on the phone could be heard gasping for air and the sound of running away from something or somebody. As the background noises slowly faded, she caught a whisper from the woman she had heard a minute ago, prompting her to hold the phone to her ears and listen attentively.

"H-hey... Hun if you ever get this record I might be gone for good. But... I can still go back somehow so d-don't worry I'll be in your arms again. So, wait for me my dear...*BEEP*"

She looks over the phone with shaky hands as she puts the phone down on the floor and lets out a disbelieving sigh at what she heard. She wants to assume that the woman is already dead but same time the woman might be still alive and just hiding in thin air that no one can't find. She took the paper again and wrote it down.

Later, she continued to listen and analyze whatever happened behind the voice records. She is lowkey proud of herself for what she's doing. She looks at the paper.

Note:

1. Goo. (random man who got mentioned)pretty 

2. lady - dead or alive?

3. They have a cat!?

4. "hun" must be the husband or boyfriend of the pretty lady.

5. Old chairman with one arm?

6. Jakeyand Sammy might be brothers or not.

7. An affliate what?

8. The promises of the pretty lady and the hun.

9. money is everything ago.

10. Does the pretty lady hate one-arm daughter?

Everything is still not clear to her. What is her task to do anyway? Does she need to investigate this pretty lady's situation and then find out everything? Then what? What will she achieve if she completes it? Will she go back to her "world"? She shook her head, stopping all the questions in her mind, but she decided to find out everything on the pretty lady's side and leave it alone once she knew it all.

She closed the phone on the sofa and went upstairs to the bedroom to change her uniform to comfortable clothes. While she was changing her outfit, she heard noises downstairs. She hurriedly got out of the bedroom and headed downstairs again. When she arrived, she noticed the paper was ripped into pieces and the phone was on the floor. She looked around to see if anybody was in the house but she didn't see any traces that someone or something is in the house too.

"Anybody there?! Come out I won't bite!" She shouts and receives silence until she hears something under the sofa, she goes to the kitchen and quickly grabs the frying pan then goes back to the living room. Holding it tightly as she kneeled down in front of the sofa and slowly looked down underneath the sofa and saw nothing but dark. She looks closer till two white glowing pupils suddenly show up making her scream and walk away from the sofa. It crawls away from the sofa and shows itself. 

"oh... a cat? how did you even get in here?" She was shocked when a random cat showed up suddenly, which got her off guard. She looks closely at the cat and notices there is a scar between the cat's eyes, she walks towards it and picks up the cat to her arm.

"Now tell me how did you get here and how you have that scar on your face kitty?" She asks the cat even though the cat can't even speak human language, she is still concerned and curious at the same time. The cat just meowed at her and then looked at the open window.

"It seems I forgot to close that... Since you were in my house without a collar, you're mine now hehe" She let out a giggle and hugged the cat gently in her arms. She even forgot the ripped paper too but well the cat made her amnesia. She grabbed the phone from the floor and took a selfie with the cat then she asked herself what she should name the cat.

˚ʚNext Dayɞ˚

Time seemed to fly by quickly. Today was the school festival at J-high. In honor of the festival, the teacher allowed students to dress casually as long as it was appropriate. She opted for a white shirt paired with a black pencil skirt, striking the perfect balance between casual and semi-formal. Each department was competing to make the most profit, vying for the title of the best department and the accompanying reward. She first observed Zack engaging in a boxing match, showcasing his profit-making skills against other students who were up for the challenge. Afterwards, she visited the beauty department and was surprised to find only a male student in charge with the help of the girls in his department.

"Why does he look like a unicorn with that hair..." She whispered to herself as she observed whatever he was doing until the guy just made one student bald- ok bye. That was a terrible haircut. She quickly walked away from the beauty department and headed to the architecture department.

Sweat dropped from her face as she looked in front of her. A water bomb stands with Vasco and others face with it. Vasco was smiling at her while Jace was right next to him looking at her to help him make his profit. She let out a sigh and went to the guy as a cashier paid and gave her balloons with water inside, then walked toward them but not so close yet not so far. She throws the ballons at them and they feel relief and smile at her feeling blessed since she's the first person who splashed them with a water bomb.

Vasco locks a gaze at her as she finishes throwing them a water bomb. Leaving Vasco shed tears on his face while Jace comforts him cheering that architecture depart have 1 point finally! Thirdly, she went to the baking department and bought a lot of bread, cupcakes, and other sweets they baked. rip wallet. She feels satisfied after eating some of it, making the baking department get 5 stars for good baking, on the way she notices the crowd in front of her. She tries to get to the front row but luck is not on her side so she just eats the last cupcake in her hand while watching from the back of the crowd.

It was an auction from the fashion department, she was about to back away before the MC explained the rules that girls will place money and whoever gets the highest will the reward aka the boys from each department that were called at by an MC. She was relieved that boys would get sold and not girls, she stood by from her spot as she continued eating the cupcake while watching the boy's embarrassed moment. When Vasco was called to the stage one girl placed money 1 won only, he was happy and sad at the same time since he thought Y/N would buy him, too bad she broke by buying so many loaves of bread from the baking department.

Many boys called till the MC called Daniel Park to the stage he was fidgeting his fingers and looking nervous. Many girls were shouting and bidding money higher and higher before this Lala girl or whatever her name is started to bid 1k won making other girls crumble on their spot while Daniel jolted on his spot too as sweat dropped from his face.

"2k won." A random girl bid higher making Lala girl bid more till she finally ran out of money. Lala doesn't want the random girl to win so she bids on her expensive bag that cost 7k won but sadly rules don't collect items just money for charity. "Daniel Park sold for 2k won!" MC announced the ending of the auction.

Back to Y/N, she kept looking at Daniel as he walked down from the stage and noticed he was walking toward her as he was standing in front of her asking her to come with him to meet the random girl. She doesn't know if she should agree or not since she wants to walk around again to see more department profit. Without answering him he just grabbed her wrist and dragged her with him to meet the random girl. While grabbing her wrist Daniel's ears were turning red and a tint of blush on his face since he was holding her wrist and walking with her.As they arrived, she saw the random girl who bid Daniel then the tall sunglasses guy behind her and it seemed he was gazing at her head to toe making her uncomfortable so she hides herself behind Daniel but she didn't notice the sunglasses guy smirking at her.

Part 4!

[nburkhardt]

Somebody Loves You, You Got A Friend. (Part 8)

Other parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

Seeing as all my current WIPs are making me mad, I nearly forgot about this. Since it’s already written out and in my notes app, I thought I should post it lol.

Quick note: a few POV changes happen, there’s a bit of plot and I kinda bash Nancy a bit. (picks up right after part 7)

Gareth watches as Eddie falls asleep and he only knows because of how relaxed his friend looks and he pulls his eyes away to find the freshmen looking so confused.

They don’t ask anything, thankfully, but they’re not at all sneaky with their glances towards Eddie. Or the completely silent conversation they have with each other.

He just hopes whatever it’s about doesn’t involve Eddie.

Eddie’s dragging the rest of the day and Gareth is about ready to explode at how dumb his friend is being, “dude, you should’ve stayed home”

“I had to take tests, that effects my final grades” he says, “I- Ms. Click fucking hates me dude”

And unfortunately, his friend is right and he has to watch as he suffers finding his work and everything else. The rest of the day is pretty boring, the only weird thing was catching Nancy Wheeler eye Eddie during their shared class. He only noticed because he’s trying and failing at not laughing at Eddie, who’s nodding off during Mr. Smith’s lecture.

Once the final bell rings, he’s trying to find Eddie since their last class isn’t shared.

He turns the corner and nearly falls on his ass, “fuck” he mumbles and looks to see the person he ran into, “dude my bad.”

Jonathan Byers nods and helps him up, “sorry, I wasn’t paying attention either”

He’s about to say something else, when he hears an all too familiar laugh. Looking around he finds Eddie with a nasty glare aimed at Nancy Wheeler, he looks at Jonathan and wordlessly they both move towards the other two.

“I don’t fucking sell shit anymore, Wheeler and it wouldn’t be any of your business if I did!”

She crossed her arms and glares up at Eddie, “but you did sell! And it is my business!”

He can just see Eddie’s anger, before anything else happens, he steps closer to his friend and quickly grabs his arm, “Eddie let’s go, cool off before you get home, yeah?”

Eddie doesn’t answer, just glares at Nancy, “it’s not your business, he told you to stay away! That means, stay away from me too.”

He doesn’t say more, simply because Gareth punches his arm and leads him back out, “dude what the fuck?”

Eddie shakes his head and makes a beeline to the van, “Nancy is a bitch, dude.”

“I noticed, who were you talking about?”

“Stevie. Nancy believes she can get him to help her with some shit. Been like this for a year now, when Stevie and I were only just starting out with our friendship” Eddie explains with a glare aimed at nothing and his hands clutching and unclutching from frustration, “When he was only a few months pregnant, there was one morning where his mom answered the door to find her standing there and wanted her to wake him up to fucking talk about whatever”

That’s, really fucking confusing to Gareth. He looks towards the school and sees Jonathan and Nancy walk out with their brothers, “didn’t Nancy break up with Steve?”

Eddie let out a near hysterical laugh, a cigarette dangling from his mouth now, “She nearly fucking broke him, actually.”

“What?”

Eddie jumps into the drivers seat, pointing a finger to his passenger seat and he doesn’t need to be told twice. Once inside the van and Eddie starts it up, “Stevie told me that she blamed him for Barb’s death and his mom told me about how she found him sobbing about it. He said Nancy called him bullshit, that their whole relationship was bullshit.”

“Fuck dude”

He’ll never be able to look at Nancy the same, “and now she’s pushing you to what?”

Eddie scruffs and turns down his street, “Fuck, I don’t even know. She came up to me demanding to know if I knew why Stevie left school or where he is, then when I wouldn’t answer, tried saying I’m a bad influence”

He laughed, “I mean you are but not like that”

“Fuck you dude” he smiles and shakes his head, “I haven’t sold anything since I found about Ellie. Wayne pulled me aside after we told him, to tell me that I needed to stop- I mean, I already was thinking it.” He shrugs, “I don’t know why Nancy would think like that”

Gareth doesn’t either and he tells this to Eddie, the van comes to a stop in front of his home, “I don’t know either, she sounds like she’s a little obsessed with Steve.”

“I know and it’s weird, right?”

The Next Day

Eddie is woken up by Eleanor’s cry and he groans, he feels Steve stir next to him and he shushes him, “stay, I’ll grab her” he gets a hum in return and he sits up before dragging himself over to her crib.

She’s kicking her legs and wiggling trying to get out of the blanket, “hey baby” he whispers to catch her attention, she blinks up at him and whines.

Smiling, he lifts her up and rocks her, “come on, cranky.” He looks over and sees Steve smiling at him, it makes his heart beat a little faster.

Steve moves up a bit and pulls his shirt off, before he can even sit down next to him. Eleanor is no longer crying, thankfully, but Steve still makes grabby hands at him.

Laughing, he hands her over and then pulls the covers back over them before wrapping his arm around Steve. They sit in silence as Eleanor drinks and Steve drops his head onto his shoulder, “I guess it’s another long day”

Laughing softly he pressed a kiss to his head, “want me to stay home?”

“Maybe? She was so fussy yesterday, Eds.” He whispers, a hand patting her back, “even mom couldn’t get her to settle”

Later on Janet finds all three of them in bed asleep, Eleanor in Steve’s arms and Steve against Eddie. She shakes her head before going over and shaking Eddie, “Honey, don’t you have school today?”

He blinks back sleep and looks up to find her standing there, “nah, I’m skipping today. Gotta help Stevie”

She smiles, nodding before placing a kiss on their foreheads, “I’ll call the school, have one of your friends pick up your schoolwork later, okay?”

He nods and she smiles before walking out of the room and he looks down to find Steve still asleep with Eleanor snuggled against him. Sighing, he relaxes back down and decides they don’t need to get up anytime soon.

Steve is humming along to the mixtape Eddie put on to fill the kitchen as they make breakfast/lunch.

It’s currently noon and Eleanor is having tummy time in the living room with Eddie, while he’s busy making breakfast sandwiches. They slept in until nearly eleven and when they made their way downstairs, Steve found a note from his mom telling them she had several appointments today.

He can hear Eddie encouraging Eleanor to move around as he makes his way towards them with their food, when the doorbell rings. Confused, he sets the plates down and goes to the front door and through the peephole finds Nancy and Jonathan.

Even more confused and a little frustrated, he opens the door with, “Isn’t today a school day? Why are you guys here?”

They both look shocked to see him, which is weird since they’re the one’s knocking on his door.

“I’ve been trying to find you!” Nancy starts with and there’s her angry determination, “you’ve been locked up in your house?!”

Jonathan just looks uncomfortable.

Raising an eyebrow at her, he shakes his head, “uh, yes? I live here. Just because we don’t run into each other doesn’t mean I left town. Just my asshole father, now you should go back to school. Isn’t this your senior year?”

“Shouldn’t you be there with us?”

Rolling his eyes, he leans against the wall. Giving the impression of indifference, “I graduated earlier this year, through a different school. Not that it concerns you, I���ve told you before, Nancy. I’m not your boyfriend, and I’m definitely not your friend.” He then looks At Jonathan then back at her, “he’s your boyfriend, now leave me alone. Leave Eddie alone while you’re at it”

Nancy narrows her eyes at him and he can just barely smell the annoyance in the air from her scent, “So you are still friends with him? Is he the reason you dropped out? Why you won’t help with the upside down?”

“I have much more important things in life,” he thinks of carrying Eleanor for nine months, holding her and feeding her, thinks of being with Eddie and the alpha holding him like he’s the whole world, “like I said before, I was there to apologize. I stepped in when you needed help, but afterwards? We were told it was over. Will was found and is fine and safe. Shouldn’t you guys be over this?”

Neither person in front of him can give him an answer because he hears Eddie shout, “Oh Stevie! The little missy and I miss you!”

He sees the confusion on their faces and before they can ask, he slams the door in their faces. Which if he’s being honest, he should’ve done sooner. He locks the door and turns around to the ones that actually deserve his attention.

He knows, Nancy won’t give up though.

~

Yikes I completely forgot how I wrote Nancy in this 🫣 oops. Please know I DO love her but she’s just a stubborn person and can’t understand that Steve’s not involved and refuses to be involved.

I can’t believe I added plot to this lol anyway, we’ll get to more slice of life again 🥰

If you see any typos or mistakes, let me know!! Also if you have any ideas that you’d like to see, send me an ask or message! Same goes for if you want to be added to the tag list!

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @zerokrox-blog @callme-keys @maya-custodios-dionach @rajumat @yellowdevilkitten @munsonfamilyband @steddierthings @tartarusfairy @mx-jinxous @zombiethingy @lunaticmarunatic @carlyv @thelittleclare @estrellami-1 @epiclazershark @bookworm0690 @forest-fogg @flustratedcas @p0lybl4nkk @tiny-enthusiast @a-gae-af-racoon @blackpanzy @marvelmwah @malicia62 @solliesolesito

[blue-slxt]

FWB

*Request: maybe some idea for u : feisty humain!reader having mood swings w her best friend (Loak or Neteyam) because she is in her ovulating week and he teases her until making her tell him why she is acting weird like that today. then he asks her to explain the "symptoms" and she says that she want to fuck more and that she’s more attracted to people during this time and he asks if it’s applied to him too & u already know the end of it🤭🤭 hope u can take something from it, xo 😘*

Okay, so this is my first human!reader fic so go easy on me 😅 I might redo this one in the future with Neteyam because I’m curious about how much different it would turn out if I wrote for him instead. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this one 🤗 All characters are aged up.

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Smut under the cut.

Pandora was beautiful. Even though you had to admire its beauty through the shield of your mask, it still left you breathless every day. Looking out at the bioluminescent flora and fauna every night through your bedroom window was unlike anything you had ever seen on Earth. You wanted to be out in it every day. But today you were hit with a painful reminder that you were human.

You jumped out of your sleep drenched in sweat. What were you dreaming about? You couldn’t fully remember. The memory came in flashes and blurs. Moans, smacks, and heat is all you’re able to really make out before you lose the visual. You suck in a sharp breath feeling a dull ache in your breasts. You cautiously press on one trying to figure out what was causing the pain. You find nothing and brush it off as a consequence of sleeping on your stomach. When you make your way to your bathroom to get ready for the day, you strip off your sleep clothes and notice a giant wet spot on your panties. That’s weird. And then it hits you. You check your app on your phone and realize what week it is. You’re ovulating. You roll your eyes and make a mental note to plug in your toys before you leave your room.

After a shower and brushing your teeth, you go join everyone for breakfast. While you’re fixing your coffee, a familiar voice enters the lab. Everybody greets Lo’ak as he walks through the cafeteria over to you. “Hey, I found this awesome lake with a cliff that’s perfect for diving. We’ve gotta check it out!” he’s oozing enthusiasm and excitement and it’s adorable. All of a sudden, it feels like there’s a throbbing between your legs.

“Sounds cool, Lo’ak. Maybe another day though.” You say about to walk away, but he blocks your path.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve already been waiting for like 2 days because of training. We’ve gotta go now.” “I’m not in the mood Lo’ak.” Your irritation is growing. You loved Lo’ak. He was your absolute best friend, but he was persistent. And while that could be endearing in certain circumstances, it could also be kind of a nuisance. Right now, you really just needed to get back to your room and take care of your little problem.

“What’s up with you today? I thought you’d be dying to go.” He’s starting to get a little concerned looking at your face. “Your face is getting red.”

You can’t handle the way he’s looking at you right now, “Nothing is ‘up’ with me Lo’ak so will you drop it please?” you push past him and continue down the hall to your room.

Lo’ak follows right behind you though. “I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s wrong.” You roll your eyes as he follows you into your room. “What? Somebody eat the last of your snacks or something?”

You huff out a big sigh and set your coffee on your desk. “If you really must know, I’m ovulating.”

His face screws in confusion. “Okay…What does that mean? Is that a human thing?”

Right. You and Lo’ak are so close that sometimes you forget he is actually an alien. “How do I explain it….it’s like when a na’vi woman goes into heat, but for humans we also can get bloated and moody and crampy and a whole bunch of other stuff. You follow?” you do your best to try and explain to him and his eyes jump around while he’s trying to make the connections in his mind. ”So you’re in a bad mood because you’re in heat?” he does his best to try and make sense of your situation.

“Basically, yeah.”

“So how do you make it better?” he crosses his legs making himself comfortable on your bed like he often did.

“There’s not really a way to make it better. I kind of have to just ride it out. Unless, I got pregnant, but it’s not like that’s gonna be happening anytime soon. But I’m irritated because I’m insanely horny and I can’t really get any relief.”  You brush your hair to the side with your fingers trying to soothe yourself and Lo’ak watches your hair brush over your neck and expose your shoulders.

“Well, what if I helped you out?” he asks casually.

Your body freezes in place. “Lo’ak I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“That’s why you’re not asking, I’m offering. I mean what kind of friend would I be if I knew I could help you out and I did nothing?” Lo’ak had always kind of had a thing for you. You were his closest friend and he found a comforting familiarity in you that he didn’t feel with other na’vi thanks to his slightly more human traits.

You think about his offer for a split second before snapping back to your senses. “How would that even work? I think you forget that you’re like 8 feet tall. You would quite literally split me in half.”

He chuckles knowing that you’re not wrong. “Just lay down and let me handle it.”

You’re skeptical. “What are you going to do?”

“Just lay down. You trust me, right?” You slowly make your way over to your bed next to him. “Yeah…”

“Okay then. So don’t be so uptight.” You lay back and let your eyes scan the ceiling of your room. Your breathing gets faster when you feel Lo’ak hook his fingers in the waist band of your shorts and panties and slide them down your legs. You close your eyes trying not to focus on the fact that your best friend was now staring down your exposed cunt.

This is crossing so many lines, but your mood would only get worse if you were to stop now. Work yourself up just to rip away your chance at real relief? You weren’t in the mood for edging today. There was no turning back now.

Meanwhile Lo’ak is wide-eyed as he stares at your body. He’d never tell you this, but he had imagined you exactly like this countless times. When he’d come to see you and you’d be dressed in barely-there comfy clothes, when you’d bend over to pick something up, when the front of your shirt would fall a little lower than it should and he would catch a peek at your cleavage. The restraint he had to hold on to was legendary. And now here he was licking his lips greedily as he almost gets stuck just staring at your form that squirmed with anticipation and nerves.

He lowers his head between your thighs and carefully swipes his tongue against your throbbing clit. Your whole body jolts from the feeling and a small moan escapes. Lo’ak’s ears flick in your direction and he’s now painfully aware of how hard he is right now. He continues lapping at your soaked entrance closing his eyes to savor the sweet taste on his tongue. He groans against your heat and the vibrations make your hips grind against his face. “Mmf…Fuck…Lo’ak!” your voice comes out in a breathy whine.

One of his fingers teases at your entrance before he slowly slides it inside of you. His finger is huge stretching you deliciously. You look down at his face and he’s already watching you. The eye contact makes you lose it. “Yes! Yes Lo’ak! Right there! Oh, fuck you’re gonna make me cum right there!”

“Shit, so fucking tight. Cum for me.” He says between sucking on your clit. It’s too much. The way his finger curls up to press against the spongey part inside your walls and the sound of him French kissing your cunt sends you over the edge. Your body shakes violently and your walls squeeze around his finger. Your head falls back while you reach your peak and subsequently come down.

Lo’ak reluctantly pulls his mouth off of you and pulls his finger out of you and watches your chest rise and fall rapidly while you regain your composure. He tries to position himself so that he can hide his bulge not wanting to let on just how badly he wanted to fuck you dumb right now.

“Feel better?”

You lazily nod your head at him.

“Good. So can we go diving now?” he tries to lighten the mood before any kind of conversation can follow what just happens. You’re not really ready to talk about it yet either.

“Alright, let’s go.”

He jumps up in excitement and you get dressed and find your mask.

“Thanks, Lo’ak.” Even if you weren’t really ready to talk about it yet, you still felt like you should at least thank him.

“Trust me, it was my pleasure.” He shoots you a playful wink before walking off.

[thefrontofmymind]

I Could Never Hate You (ex!reader x matty healy)

a/n: this is a bit of an add-on to this blurb so it'll kinda make more sense if you read that too but its not totally needed

As the clock ticked closer to midnight, you got more and more antsy. Finally, after over two years, you were finally letting the world into your passion project. An album that you started with love, then loneliness and heartbreak. It took you through the hardest few months of your life, the breakup with the man who you thought you would spend the rest of your life with. It wasn’t even some big event, you just realised that you couldn’t grow together. You and Matty had spent most of your relationship alone together, in isolation away from the rest of the world. And that worked well for a while–living in stasis–but when it came time to join the real world again, you found that everyone else had changed, drastically, and you both needed to change as well, and not together.

Well, that was the start of it. Once you’d both had to start living single, for the first time in years, and it quickly became apparent that things would not settle easily. First was the awkwardness from your mutual friends, not knowing whether to take sides or not, then the jealousy in seeing just how happy you both seemed on social media without one another–of course, this was all a facade, you were both very unhappy but just too stubborn to admit it.

Hearing the things he would say about you on stage, in his songs, in interviews, you were so hurt. Not to mention shocked, you didn’t know he’d be so upset, when you split there wasn’t much animosity, just heartache. You didn’t know he felt so threatened over the mere idea of you dating someone else–all rumours made up by tabloids, you were nowhere near ready to date somebody else.

It was ten minutes until midnight. You had almost finished your final listen through it, while it was still just your’s, only two songs left. And then the whole world could listen, and learn about the past couple years that you held so sacred. 

You didn’t even realise you were crying until the tears finally spilled over your cheeks as the ending chords of the final track played in your empty flat. Living through that whole journey each time you listened was like another blow to your chest over and over, but some part of you yearned for it each time–it was your only gateway to the last time you felt actually happy with yourself. Since you broke up with him, it had all been a complete mess of bathroom breakdowns and many nights with too much wine.

As you composed yourself with a tissue there was only about a minute left, this was it. 

You watched your phone’s time turn to Friday, it was like a weight was lifted off your back. All your worries, the emotional labour you endured while making the record, just melted away. You opened the Twitter app and read through the first few tweets of excited fans who were live-tweeting their first listen to the album. You smiled at all their anticipation, typing their initial thoughts in all caps.

And soon the texts came rolling in. Your manager, peers, friends from school, the head of your label, and…him.

Just listened to it all. I can’t believe I know someone as talented as you. Seriously. Just wow.

The text touched your heart. You’d sent a very similar message when Being Funny was released, all of it true. It was a truly heartfelt and all-over fantastic record, you were just glad you could live up to that standard. You quickly typed a response.

Oh you flatter me! 

Ping! An immediate reply back.

I try…

This was the first time you’d properly spoken in months. It felt so good. It was almost like you’d gotten your Matty back–something you wished for so deeply.

I meant what I said in the ig post btw. I wanna be friends.

The second you pressed send, you were worried you’d overstepped, and when the typing bubble appeared on the screen.

Me too.

-And then another message.

Are you busy right now? I still have a 92 Bordeaux I haven’t opened…

Your favourite wine. You typed another text.

I’ll be over in 10.

It was a short walk. A route you’d thought about taking time and time again in your lowest times. Though now you were riding a hit of euphoria like no other.

You still knew the code to his apartment block–after all, it was once yours too–so you could get in easily, placing four firm knocks on his door.

When he opened the door, you were met with a sight for sore eyes. Without thinking you launched on him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You could feel him freeze for a second, before relaxing into your grasp, arms going around your waist.

You forgot his scent, the musk mixed with tobacco smoke–something that on anyone else could very well be repulsive, but not on Matty, never on Matty.

“We should get inside,” he said, muffled from his face being pressed into your shoulder.

“Okay,” you chuckled. 

You finally let go of him and you felt so suddenly cold without contact. You walked through the door and you were hit with the memories of when it was home for you–the good and bad.

Matty had set up the dark bottle on the coffee table with two glasses. He knew you always liked to open the bottle yourself so it was left still wrapped, a bottle opener laying next to it. You couldn’t help but smile a little to yourself at the sight of it, knowing that Matty still remembered.

You placed your bag on the armrest of the sofa and got to your job, unpeeling the foil and prying open the bottle. You pocketed the cork, you wanted something to remember this night by.

Matty was simply watching you from his normal spot on the sofa as you poured the two glasses and handed one to him.

“I should tell you again…” he started after you made yourself comfortable on the sofa you both spent months picking out. “It’s a fucking good album.”

“Thanks, darling,” you smiled.

“I’m serious! I could never have written something so…tender and so..so personal. Ever.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you joked, he laughed.

“And I want you to know that I’m sorry. For everything.”

“You’re not completely blameless in all this! We’ve both said and done…things,” you argued.

“I know, I just…I could never deal with you hating me.”

“Matthew. I could never hate you.”

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Taste of You"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 4552

Tags: Fresh AU, dark rom-com, dark!Bucky, pre-serum Steve, cannibalism, kidnapping, yandere/basement wife, meet cute-ish, gay sex n' stuff, dub-con bordering on non-con, ignoring of sexual boundaries

Summary: Steve is so tired of the meat market that modern dating has become. Just when he's deleted all the apps and given up on ever finding Mr. Right, he meets the perfect guy at the grocery store.

A dark, cute, funny, fucked up, and very tasty love story.

It's a Fresh AU. "If you can't handle the cannibalism, get out of the kitchen" ... or something like that

7. Sous Vide

Wait! I haven't read a previous chapter. Story Masterlist

Steve

For the first twenty-four hours, Steve alternates between crying, screaming, and sometimes even laughing. And his thoughts run a gamut twice as large.

8 hours in: This can’t be happening. Steve is so fucking stupid. He deserves what he gets. He’s not ready to die. He should find a way to kill himself. Maybe he can seduce James into letting him go.

12 hours in: Fuck James! Steve’s going to kill him. He doesn’t know how, but he is totally going to murder the shit out of him! What’s in the room, there must be something that he can use…

16 hours: Why is there NOTHING in this room that is useful?! Fuck, he’s screwed. Why did Steve have to go snooping in the basement? He can’t believe he was actually attracted to a serial killer. He fucked a serial killer. What does that say about him? Clint wouldn’t have fallen for this shit. Fuck. Steve never texted him. Ha—he won’t know where to send the cops to find his body after all.

18 hours: Is he going to go insane? Maybe. Maybe it’ll be better if he does. Which part of him will James try to cut off first? Steve thinks he’d rather keep his arms than his legs. If he had to choose that is. Who was that woman in the other cell? What did she lose first? Why isn’t she answering him when he yells out? Can she not hear him? Maybe she’s just crazy. How long has she been here? How long is Steve going to be here before he dies? Oh god, he doesn’t want to wind up like her!

20 hours: That must’ve been human meat up in the fridge. And Steve asked Bucky to make dinner with it. A rump roast. They would’ve been eating somebody’s ass for dinner.

24 hours: Holy fucking shit, is he ever stupid.

“Can I get you anything?” James asks him the third time he visits.

The first time he’d come, Steve had screamed and thrown hysterics until it drove James away.

The second time, he’d done nothing but cry softly and beg to be let go, as James told him what it is he does for a living.

The third time he just sits there and stares like a zombie. James doesn’t seem to like that. He comes over and feels Steve’s forehead, takes his pulse. Steve gasps and jerks away, huddling himself into the corner. James lets him go with a sad expression. “You need to try and calm down, honey,” he says. “I hate to see you suffering.”

Steve stares at him with wide eyes. “Are you gonna kill me?” he asks. He’s been thinking about it all day and night. He can’t get the image of that woman out of his head. “Are you gonna…” eat me?

James is shaking his head. “No, Steve. I told you: I don’t want to hurt you.”

Steve blinks. He only has fuzzy memories of the last two visits. He knows that James had stayed, especially that second time, knows that he’d sat and talked to Steve. But Steve is having a hard time remembering all the facts. He’d been out of his mind with emotion, not taking it all in. “I don’t remember,” he murmurs, nervous. “I… I don’t remember everything you said.”

James smiles sadly at him. “Okay. That’s understandable.” He goes and sits down on a metal stool that’s connected to the floor. It’s part of a little vanity set that Steve is unable to reach from his chained position by the bed. Steve’s got no clue why it’s there, if he can’t even reach it. He’s spent time wondering if the mirror is glass, and if he could break it and use a shard of it to murder James. “I’ll answer any questions you have,” James is offering amicably, breaking Steve out of his murderous thoughts. “What do you want to know?”

“I don’t want to die,” Steve whispers.

“You’re not going to die,” James tells him, a little exasperation creeping into his voice. “Stevie, you’re not listening: I am not going to kill you. I didn’t bring you here for work.”

Work. Steve rolls the word over in his mind. James is a serial killer. He kills people and eats them. Well, mostly he sells their meat to other people to eat them. But that doesn’t make it any better! Steve tries to read James’ face for a lie. He doesn’t believe him when he says he’s not going to kill Steve. Of course he’s going to kill Steve. He has to, now that Steve knows his secret.

Steve is so fucking stupid.

“Just… just do it fast,” Steve begs. He thinks of the limbless woman several cells down. He doesn’t know if she’s still alive. He hopes not. “Do it all at once, please. Don’t… don’t make me like her.”

James looks pained. “I know you don’t believe me, honey. But in time you’ll see. I really didn’t mean for you to wind up down here.” He smiles softly at him, which is equal parts sweet and disturbing. “I really do care for you Steve. I was looking forward to what we could have together. I still am. We can get past this, and in the end it’ll only have made our relationship stronger.”

Steve stares. James really means it. He actually thinks they’re still going to be boyfriends. Steve remembers that conversation they’d had in the car, how happy he’d been when James had taken his hand and confirmed their relationship status. Steve thinks of all the personal things he’s told James, all the times they’ve made love, laughed with each other; he thinks of how much he’d come to feel for James. Fuck, it’s awful. Steve feels betrayed. His Mr. Right is a cannibal serial killer. It’s not fucking fair. “I’m not ever going to be with you again,” he tells him blankly. He can’t believe he actually has to explain this. “James, you eat people.”

James sighs like that’s small potatoes. “I’m still me. I’m still that guy you met at the grocery store.”

Steve blinks, thinking about their encounter in the meat department, James holding out the package of venison with an expression of disgust and proclaiming himself a vegetarian. The hilarity of it hits Steve all of a sudden, and he starts to giggle.

James is watching him with a look of concern. “Steve?”

Steve shakes his head, the laughter growing and growing, and he keeps laughing until he folds over with it. It turns into a sob. He squeezes his eyes shut, overwhelmed. “Sorry,” he whispers, shaking his head. “Sorry, I just… I’m panicking, a little.”

It’s quiet for a long moment, and then Steve gasps as the mattress dips and James is right there, pulling him into his arms. Steve struggles, pushing against him. “No!”

But James hushes him and hugs him tightly, and Steve can’t get away. “Shh sh sh,” James says. “It’s okay, I know you’re scared, Steve. I know. It’s gonna be okay. You’ll see. It’s all going to be just fine.”

It really isn’t, but Steve doesn’t know what else to do besides cry. James holds him through it and eventually lays him down on the mattress, kissing his tear stained cheek. “Rest,” he murmurs, and he gets up and leaves.

The fourth time James comes into his cell, Steve has formed a loose plan. He’s not going to panic anymore. He’s going to be productive. He’s going to gain James’ trust, make him believe that Steve loves him and won’t run away. Then, when he gets his chance, he’ll kill James and escape. There’s no other option. This is what he has to do.

“Hey,” James says, looking cautious as he swipes the keycard that unlocks the room’s slatted door. He slides it open and steps inside. He’s got another tray of food. “Brought you some lunch.”

Steve watches as he sets the tray onto the floor and gives it a push towards him. His stomach rumbles loudly—he hasn’t eaten since James locked him in here. The first few meals got thrown in fits of rage and desperation, the ones after that simply ignored and refused. But Steve obviously isn’t the first captive to try going on a hunger strike, and James has kept patiently bringing trays for every mealtime. Now Steve has a new game plan, and he pulls the tray over and picks up the silicone spoon (not even plastic utensils. This guy really is careful). He looks over the food and then glances at James. “...This is all… it’s vegetarian, right?” he checks.

James knows what he’s really asking, and he nods. “Yeah. Just chicken noodle,” he says gently.

Steve decides to believe him. He brings a spoonful of the soup to his lips, blows on it, swallows. It’s not bad, and he’s 99.9% sure that those are chunks of chicken floating in the broth.

James takes a seat on the metal stool and watches him eat the meal. “You’re calmer today,” he observes.

Steve shrugs, playing it cool. “Yeah,” he simply says. “I had time to think it over.”

“Yeah?” James sounds hopeful. “Okay. That’s good. Do you need anything?”

He asks that every time he visits Steve. So far Steve has only ever yelled or cried or remained totally silent in response. “Books?” he says this time, meeting James’ eyes. James looks surprised. “I don’t know how long I’ve been down here,” Steve says. “It gets boring.”

James smiles tentatively. “Just a little over a day, now. Yeah, honey. I can bring you books.”

“Okay,” Steve says. He goes on eating the soup. There’s a little hunk of a baguette with it. He tears off a piece and dips it into the broth, pops it into his mouth and chews. “Thank you.”

James leaves shortly after that, and within what feels like a few hours, Steve is supplied with a whole cart full of books. “I didn’t know what you liked,” James says sheepishly as Steve looks over the titles. “Hope this is good enough.”

“It’s great,” Steve says. He actually wasn’t expecting so many, or such a good selection. “Thank you.”

James looks very pleased. He takes a step closer and leans down, reaches out like he’ll touch him. Steve flinches and James’ face falls.

“Sorry,” Steve mutters, cursing himself for the reaction. “I’m sorry James. This is just…” he sighs. “It’s scary, you know?”

James nods. “Bucky,” he says.

“What?”

“Bucky.” He comes close again and kneels down. He takes Steve’s hand in his. It’s the one that’s chained to the floor. “My name.”

“Your name isn’t James?” Steve doesn’t know why he finds that so disappointing. It shouldn’t matter, but he’d hoped that he’d at least been getting to know the real man, before the other shoe dropped. Apparently not. It just figures that the one decent guy Steve manages to meet would turn out to be a psycho.

“No, it is. James Buchanan Barnes,” James says. “My sister started it, back when we were kids. She couldn’t say Buchanan, so,” he shrugs. “Bucky.”

Steve gapes. “Wait, you really do have a sister? You weren’t just making that up?”

James—or Bucky, apparently—looks hurt. “No, I wasn’t making it up. I never lied to you, Steve.”

Steve can’t help it, he laughs meanly. “Yeah right. You said there was nothing down here but storage,” he snaps, yanking his hand back from Bucky’s grip. “You’re a serial killer!”

“I didn’t lie to you about who I am,” Bucky says sternly. “I’m still the same person, Steve. Everything we had together was real. It still is.” He puts his hand on Steve’s shoulder and grips him. “I still care about you.”

Steve swallows heavily, wondering if his face is neutral. He’s trying to keep it that way, but it’s hard when all he feels is horror, disappointment and disgust. At least he’s managed not to yank himself away from Bucky’s grip on him. “Bucky,” he says, trying the name out. It seems to fit, and James looks very pleased when he uses it. Steve nods. “Okay. Bucky it is.”

Bucky smiles. “I knew you were special,” he says happily. But when Steve doesn’t react, he gets despondent again. “I didn’t want this for you,” he says, releasing Steve’s shoulder. “I wanted us to be happy together.”

Steve frowns. “How was that going to work?” he asks. “Don’t you think I would’ve found out about this eventually?”

Bucky nods. “Well yeah. But not like this. I was going to tell you, eventually. But I was gonna break it to you slowly.”

Steve fights the urge to laugh like a maniac. “Oh? How does one break that kind of news slowly?”

“I know it’s a lot. And it’s shocking.”

“Gee, you think?” Steve quips.

Bucky laughs, Steve’s levity putting him at ease. He sits down on the floor, crossing his legs. “It's so different from what people think. God, if you only knew, Steve. Knew what it was really like.”

Steve shivers at how dreamily Bucky says that. He has to work up the courage to say, “Tell me?”

Bucky looks surprised that he’s asking, but then his eyes sharpen on him, evaluating. He’s suspicious. “Why do you want to know?” he asks.

Steve shrugs and tries to act like it’s no big deal. “I dunno. Just curious I guess. What it tastes like, why you even want to do it.” He peeks up at Bucky. “Why do you?”

For a moment, it doesn’t seem like Bucky’s going to answer. But then he says, “It’s not just about food, or eating. It’s…” he pauses, staring at Steve in an evaluating way, like he’s not sure Steve will get it. “It’s about giving,” he eventually says, watching Steve carefully. “Giving yourself over to somebody. Becoming one with somebody else, forever. And that’s…” he shakes his head, reverent. “That’s a beautiful thing. That’s surrender. That’s true intimacy.”

Steve gulps, suddenly hoping that his lunch stays down for this conversation. “But…” he breathes. “But they don’t do it willingly.”

Bucky’s eyes lose their gleam. He looks away. “No,” he says quietly. “No, they don’t.” He doesn’t expound on that, and Steve doesn’t dare to ask any more questions. Bucky sighs and moves on. “As for how it tastes, well…” the corners of his mouth curl up, and when he meets Steve’s eyes again, it’s terrifying. “If it’s done right? It’s like nothing you’ve ever tasted before. It’s fucking exquisite.”

Steve thinks of the story Bucky had told, about the villagers in China; the mystery meat. He knows now that it must’ve been true. That was probably the first time Bucky had ever tasted human flesh. And he’d liked it. Steve shivers. “And you know lots of other people who do this?” he asks. "Enough to run a whole business off of?"

A cannibal cabal, Christ.

Bucky nods. “My clients; they like to eat women, specifically. Because it’s a sexual thing for them, you know?” He shrugs. “I don’t think women actually taste better, but whatever. I’m here to satisfy the customer.” He tilts his head and squints at Steve. “You know, if you wanted to try it…”

“No,” Steve says, knowing that his acting abilities don’t extend that far. He shakes his head. “I can’t. Please.”

Bucky looks disappointed, but he accepts it. “Okay,” he says softly. “Don’t worry. I won’t make you.” He moves closer, kneeling right in front of Steve and looking at him tenderly. He puts both hands on his shoulders. Steve fights not to recoil. “Steve,” Bucky says softly, voice full of emotion. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I wish I could have you upstairs with me, I really do. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Steve swallows dryly. “What are you gonna do?”

Bucky stares at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, he leans in and kisses him on the mouth. He pulls back and watches Steve’s expression. “I don’t know,” he says softly. “I want to keep you, I do. I don't want to have to hurt you. I want to date you, like we were doing.”

Steve shivers under Bucky’s scrutiny. This guy is whacked. “...But?” he asks.

Bucky shakes his head sadly. He pulls back and rises to his feet. “I don’t know,” he says. “I just don’t know.” He walks back over to the door. “I’ve always dreamed of finding someone who I could share this with, you know? Someone I could really trust and share absolutely everything with. Because it gets lonely, ya know? Having this part of myself that I can’t share with a partner."

Steve stares, incredulous at Bucky’s capacity for delusion. “You said you were married,” he says, suddenly remembering. “What happened to him?” Bucky’s expression shutters and he looks away, and that’s all the answer that Steve needs. “You killed him,” Steve whispers, horrified.

Bucky turns away. “I told you we didn’t see eye to eye on things. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. “So you ate him?”

“No,” Bucky says sharply, looking back over his shoulder at Steve with something like resentment. “I would never eat someone I loved.”

Steve starts to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Not without their consent.”

Steve’s eyes bug out of his head.

Bucky shakes his head as he notices Steve’s expression. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be different with us. You'll see. It’ll take time, I know that now. But maybe in the long run it’s good that you found out this soon. Now we can just work on moving past it.”

Steve blinks at him. Keep your face calm, keep your face calm, don’t make a face, relaxrelaxrelax—

Bucky sighs and steps out of the cell. “I’ll be back later with your dinner, okay?” He slides the door shut. The electric keypad beeps. He gives Steve one last bittersweet look of affection through the wooden slats. “Try to relax. Get some rest. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Steve watches him leave, hears him take the steps back upstairs, opening and closing the door up there, more electronic locks beeping. Once Steve’s positive that he’s alone again, he inhales hugely and lets it out in a long, slow exhale. “Fuck,” he whispers, overwhelmed. This is not going to be easy.

Bucky

Bucky finds himself feeling melancholy as the day wears on. He thinks about Ian a lot, remembers how his husband had looked at him like he was a monster, when Bucky had finally confided his deepest secret. It was like watching a Manchurian candidate switch on; like the past three years hadn’t happened and he’d never even loved Bucky at all.

To feel better, he pulls some of Melissa for dinner, seasoning and cooking the meat sous vide. He lights the tall candlesticks on the dining room table in her honor and eats slowly, thinking about how she’d smiled up at him, that last time. She’d told Bucky that she was ready, that she knew she was crazy and Bucky could finally end it. He’d promised her he would. And then she’d smiled and cried and asked him for a kiss before she slipped under.

Bucky thinks it’s pretty fucked up, that he kissed her. Maybe even more fucked up than the fact that he’s sitting here eating her with a garlic velouté. But he can't help it. He loves the ones that find acceptance in the end. Melissa had been beautiful to him, then. Willingness is the ultimate fantasy, of course, but that's something which Bucky has come to realize he'll probably never get.

He sighs, sipping his glass of wine. It’s Sunday evening. He was supposed to be sharing a meal with Steve right now, laughing over stupid jokes and learning more about each other. Growing closer. Setting the stage for a future where he could finally be truly intimate with the person he loved.

Bucky’s so upset that this is how it’s played out. Melissa doesn’t even taste that good, his stomach churning the more he ruminates about it. He sets his fork down and rubs his forehead in stress, thinking of Steve. Fuck, he doesn’t want to lose him.

After dinner he sends a tray down in the dumbwaiter, carrying another. He passes Steve’s room and hears him call out, but Bucky doesn’t answer. He doesn’t want Steve to have to know any more about Eileen than is strictly necessary. She’s a horrible person, and Steve shouldn’t have to deal with her. Bucky sits Eileen up and feeds her her dinner, not bothering to talk to her. She’s teetering on the edge, he can tell. If he’s lucky, she’ll go catatonic. Then he won’t even have to make conversation. He wipes her mouth and asks her if she has to use the bathroom.

No answer.

He lays her back down, covering her with the blanket. She’s just depressing him now. Bucky takes a good, long look at her when he’s standing back at the door to her room, admiring his work and what he’s reduced her to. “Do you know why I did this to you?” he asks her, in an uncharacteristically morbid mood. “Hm?”

Slowly, she turns her head to look at him. She doesn’t say anything, which pisses Bucky off.

“It’s because you’re the lowest level of human scum. A mother’s supposed to protect her children, not offer them up for the slaughter.”

She blinks at him. “So you slaughtered me.”

He nods.

“How did I taste?”

Bucky shrugs. “Average.” He’s long since abandoned the notion that a person’s moral fiber affects their taste. It doesn’t. Bucky’s clients are romantic. They like to think that sex and age and race make a difference, but the sad fact of the matter is that underneath their skin, people are all the same—meat. “I dressed you up with a really nice red wine reduction,” he tells her, more to try and fuck with her emotions than anything else. “If that makes you feel better.”

“Why not him?” she asks, and Bucky knows who she means.

“Because you’re her mother!” he growls. “The one person a child is supposed to be able to count on, no matter what!” Not that he hadn’t considered taking the boyfriend, too, but that was a lot more work, and he’d never make a profit on a male anyways. “How can you even live with yourself? How could you let him in your home?!”

She infuriates him further by not caring. “I worked with what I had,” she says.

Bucky sees red. He immediately leaves the room and goes to grab a syringe of potassium chloride. “You’re done,” he tells her, then finds a vein and pushes. He watches as her heart stops and the light fades from her eyes.

Like always, he’s not as satisfied by the death as he wants. He doesn’t think he ever will be.

He’s not in the mood to harvest her, so he puts her on the cart and wheels her into the walk-in fridge, leaving her there to be dealt with later. He’ll send out an email tomorrow to see if he’s got any takers on fresh organ meats or ribs. Sometimes he gets lucky and can hock the entrails at full price.

If not, oh well. He’ll just make a nice paté.

Steve is reading a book when Bucky brings his dinner in. “Hey,” Bucky says, setting the tray down next to the mattress and taking a seat on the floor. He looks Steve over. He seems calm enough, which Bucky likes. “What are you reading?”

“Atlas Shrugged. You have a very well-rounded library,” he tells him. Then he catches sight of Bucky’s face and he looks him over more closely. “What’s wrong?”

Bucky’s lips twitch. “How do you know anything’s wrong?”

“I can tell,” he says simply. “You’re upset.”

Bucky stares at him, but eventually he huffs and gives up, looking away. “Eileen’s done,” he says. “It’s just you down here, now.”

Steve’s eyes widen. “You… you killed her?”

“Yeah.” Bucky sees him react. The kid is afraid. “Steve, I told you I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that,” he mutters. “But here I am, chained up in your basement.”

Bucky snorts and looks away. “Yeah. Touché.”

They’re both quiet then. Eventually Steve reaches for half of the turkey sandwich Bucky’s prepared for him. He lifts the top piece of bread and then looks to Bucky with a dubious eyebrow raised. “It’s ‘vegetarian’,” Bucky says, putting quotes on the word to let Steve know he means “people-free.”

Steve takes a bite so big that Bucky can’t help but feel warmed by how it means that Steve is trusting him. Steve chews and says, “What are you going to do with me?”

God, isn’t that the fucking dilemma of the year? Bucky shakes his head, frowning at the tray between them. “I don’t know.”

“...You could take me back upstairs,” Steve suggests. Bucky’s eyes shoot back up, alarmed. “Just to hang out!” Steve adds hastily. “We could spend time together, but then you could always put me back down here.”

Bucky sighs. Steve’s a smart cookie, he’ll give him that. “No,” he tells him. “You’re just trying to escape.”

“I’m not. I—”

“Don’t lie to me!” Steve shuts up abruptly, and Bucky feels bad for having snapped. He clenches his jaw and looks away. He hates seeing Steve afraid of him. “You shouldn’t have snuck down here, Steve,” he grumbles, pissed, because Steve has ruined everything. Bucky was so excited to finally get to be with someone, to start anew and do it right this time. But now they can’t even have that.

Really, he’s not even angry at Steve. He’s angry at himself. He’s never, ever left the door to the basement unlocked. It was a freak accident and it’s ruined all his plans. “Fuck,” he curses quietly, slapping his hand down onto the carpeted floor in frustration. He closes his eyes and puts his head in his hands. He feels so lost.

Before he knows it, he feels an arm wrapping around him. Steve has moved to his side and is trying to hold him comfortingly.

Bucky looks over, surprised. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” Steve murmurs. “I’m sorry I went and messed it up. …I really did like you, before.”

Bucky’s heart constricts. “You did?” he asks, wanting to hear him say it again.

“Yeah.” Steve says, his voice so sad, like he’s lost all hope of ever finding someone to love, now. “I did.”

Bucky knows that he has to show Steve that they can still be together, that the important things haven’t changed. “I’m still me, Steve,” he promises. “And you’re still you. And we’re here together. We can still make it work.”

Steve makes a noise of protest, but Bucky hushes him. “I’m going to show you,” he says, already thinking about how he’ll do it. “You’ll see.” Steve’s face is doubtful as Bucky gets up, but Bucky is motivated now. He isn’t going to let Steve become just another captive. He’s going to make him see. He’s going to make him his.

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[strawberrymilk-sunshine]

For all eternity.

I was terrified of Ursula as a child. I used to think she lived under the stairs in my basement.

Anyways I love Azul Ashengrotto with all my heart <3

(apologies if this post is a bit messy, first time writing with the tumblr app. May edit this later)

Warning(s): fem reader, yandere content, kidnapping

“Heeeey, Azul, we’re baaaack...” One of a pair of twins called into the seemingly empty grotto.

“We saw (Y/N) today.” The other twin mentioned.

“Oh, did you? What a pleasant surprise.” The octopus merman residing within the dark cave responded. “How did she look?”

“Positively beautiful.”

“Y’know, Azul, I have no idea why you’re so interested in her... she’s just some ditzy mermaid, what’s so different about her compared to every other mermaid?”

“Don’t call her that, Floyd.” Azul angrily said. “She isn’t just some ‘ditzy mermaid’, ok?”

“Whatever.” Floyd rolled his eyes. “Anyways, if you’re so into her, why not just tell her already~?”

“We’ve discussed this before. I have a plan.”

“Ah, and speaking of that...” Jade began. “I noticed something today while observing (Y/N). She had a scar on her tail.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Azul asked... or, moreso demanded.

“Yes, (Y/N) had a scar on her tail. Quite a large one, might I add.” Jade explained.

“Oh yeeeeeeah...! Hehe, her love of humans got her pretty hurt, eh Jade~?”

“Yes, it did, Floyd.” Despite sounding somber, Jade had a smile on his face.

Azul was filled with rage at the thought. How DARE somebody do that to you?! Why did they think they had the right to hurt you- why did they think they had the right to touch you?!

“Floyd. Jade. Go find (Y/N).” Azul demanded. “Find her and bring her to me. It seems I will be enacting my plan sooner than I thought.”

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

You sat on a rock, crying. If only you weren’t a mermaid... if you were human, he would’ve loved you. If you were human, he wouldn’t have immediately called you a monster.

If only you weren’t a mermaid...

“Well isn’t this just sad~?”

“Indeed it is.”

“W-who’s there?!” You yelled out. Two eel mermen revealed themselves, both smiling creepily...

“There’s no need to be so hostile.”

“Yeah! We just wanna help you~!”

“Help me...? How can you help me...?”

“Oh no, not us. But we know someone who can.”

“Azul Ashengrotto~”

...you’d heard that name before. There were rumours of an octopus merman who went by that name. They say he could grant any wish you have... for a price.

“No, no... I-I can’t possibly...” You began to think of all the ways this could go wrong.

“No? Well it is what it is, I suppose.”

“It was just a suggestion...”

As the eel mermen slowly swam away from you, you began considering things. Yes, things could obviously go wrong, but... if he can grant any wish you have, then...

“Wait-!” You yelled out. The twins immediately stopped and turned back to look at you, an unsettling toothy grin on both their faces. “On second thought... please take me to him!”

“It would be our pleasure.”

They grabbed your hands and led you along.

When the three of you happened upon a cave, the two let go of you.

“Hey Azuuuuuul~! You have a visitor!” One of them said, pushing you inside the cave.

“Ah, greetings, (Y/N). I’ve been waiting for you.” A voice from deep within the cave called out to you.

You continued deeper into the cave, until-

You saw him. Azul. The octopus merman who granted wishes, not unlike the Sea Witch herself.

“I... I-I’m here for-” Before you could finish your sentence, a tentacle pressed itself against your lips, shushing you.

“Oh, I know what you’re here for.” Azul told you. “Poor, unfortunate souls such as yourself always come to me for one reason.” He placed a hand on his chest. “You need my help.”

“I do...” You admitted. “I... I want you to make me human!”

“...excuse me? You want to become human? You... don’t want to get back at those who hurt you?”

“If I was a human, then he’d love me... I’m sure of it.” You explained. “So all I want from you is to turn me into a human!”

“Well, Angelfish, that’s a bit of a tall ask...” Azul paused for a moment. “But just for you, I can find a way to make it happen!”

“Y-you can?!”

“Why of course! Though... I will need adequate payment.” He explained. “You can’t get something for nothing, you know!”

“Oh, but I don’t have any m-”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head off, (Y/N)! I’m not asking for money.” Azul got very close to you... a bit too close. He placed a hand on your chin. “I want your voice.”

“My voice...?”

“So, (Y/N), this is the deal.” Azul backed away from you, a magical golden contract scroll appearing above his hand. “I will make you a potion that will turn you into a human for three days. In that time, you are to get that human you like so much to fall in love with you, all without your voice, understand? If you can do that, then you’ll remain human permanently. But if not, well... you’ll turn back into a mermaid. And you will belong to me.”

“Can I really do that without talking to him...?”

“Why of course you can! I believe in you, (Y/N)!”

The part of the contract that stood out the most to you was the ominous “For all eternity.” at the bottom. Azul handed you a pen made of the skeleton of a small fish.

"Have we got a deal, (Y/N)~?"

Your eyes scanned the golden contract as Azul began preparing your potion, showing he fully expected you to agree to his deal. He hummed a tune to himself as he did.

You grabbed the fish pen tightly. All of your dreams can come true if only you sign the scroll...

Without hesitating any further, you wrote your name on the dotted line.

"You signed? Perfect! Then, It's a Deal!"

It felt so strange when the deal was completed. It felt like your voice was literally sucked out from your throat. And suddenly, you no longer had a tail. Instead, where it once was, there were a pair of legs.

And soon after that, you could no longer breathe the water.

"Jade, Floyd, bring her to the surface. We wouldn't want her drowning before she can attempt to finish the deal now, would we~?"

"Of course." "Will do~!"

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

The days are not unlike crashing waves. They come and go in a second; before you know it they're gone. An unfortunate truth for someone on a time limit.

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

Two days came and went. You had made no progress with the human you loved... there's no way you can complete your end of the bargain!

These past two days, you've noticed that the sea tends to calm you down when you're panicking. Makes sense, seeing as you were born there. So you were looking out at the sea, watching the sunset... watching the time draw ever nearer. As you panicked, you failed to notice someone walk up you you. A human man with silver hair and glasses...

"Excuse me, are you alright?" He asked. You shook your head no, starting to tear up. "Well, what's wrong?"

You tried talking, but no matter how loud you tried to scream, nothing came out.

"Oh, can you not speak? My apologies." He sat down beside you. "My name's Vance. I can accompany you, if you'd like." You nodded, and wiped your tears. "I've seen you around here recently. By the looks of things, you like that fisherman, yes? Unfortunately, he's already married."

He's married? That human you entered this contract for is married?

All of this has been for nothing.

"Huh? What's wrong, Angelfish?" Vance asked you. "There's no need to cry! Sure, you may not get to have that guy, but... you could always have me."

Vance gave you a tight hug... but something didn't seem quite right. "Angelfish"... hasn't someone called you that before...?

That was when you realized. You pushed him away from you, standing up and stumbling slightly backwards.

"Oh. So you noticed, did you?" He asked. "Well, it's a good thing we're near the sea, (Y/N)... your time is up!"

You watched as 'Vance' transformed into exactly who you thought he was.

Azul grabbed you, with his arms and tentacles, and pulled you into the water with him. You were worried you'd drown, but found yourself being able to breathe in the water, leading you to a horrible realization: your time really had run out.

"You and I will have a wonderful life together, (Y/N)." Your face was pressed tightly against Azul's chest, and with his multiple limbs holding you, there was no way you could get out of this hug. "We will love each other for all eternity... just as I had wanted."

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

No, Nothin' Good Starts in a Getaway Car

Part 1 of Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car)

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: On the worst first date of your life, you're aching for any excuse to cut the date short. When a chance encounter with a gorgeous blonde presents you with a chance to escape, you'd be a fool not to take it.

Disclaimer: N/A

Warnings: afab!reader

Word Count: 2784

A/N: Hi! I wrote this for @cherrycola27's 1K Celebration Top Gun Taylor's Version. I had an absolute blast writing it. I listened to Getaway Car by Taylor Swift on repeat, and the story ran away from me. It's also the very first fanfiction that I've ever written. I really hope people like it! And to the lovely @cherrycola27, congratulations on 1k followers! I'm so happy for you!

I have about a billion thanks to the fantastic @roosterbruiser for proofreading this as well!

AO3: Cross-posted here! My Masterlist

Series Masterlist | Next Part

Click Here for the Top Gun Taylor's Version Master List

You meet Jake Seresin in the midst of what is arguably the worst first date you've ever been on. San Diego is at its’ best on the gorgeous summer day you greet James outside a bustling bar for your first date. You’d come across James’ profile after signing up on Tinder for the first time at the prompting of your girlfriends.  At first glance, he is the ideal match for you. He seemed intelligent, 30 years old, worked out regularly to keep fit, had a full-time job, and was a family man. There were no glaring red flags, so you swiped right. Your conversation in the app was a bit boring, but you figured it was more due to the medium of your interactions than the man himself. So you set up a date, picking a bar in a popular area of the city, and dolling yourself up in the prettiest sundress you own, a violet number that swishes to the middle of your thighs.

It was the best of times, the worst of crimes I struck a match and blew your mind But I didn't mean it and you didn’t see it

If only he didn’t open his mouth as you sat at a table and began to get to know one another. The first indicator that James was too good to be true was when he ordered you a gin and tonic without asking you what you liked. And then there was the conversation. All he could talk about was himself, his ex-girlfriend, and, shockingly, his mother. If he wasn’t chatting your ear off about the paragon of virtue and perfection that his ex was, he was talking about his mama and how he ached, longed, and pined to find somebody to do for him what she did for his dad and their family. From what you could gather, the man had a borderline uncomfortably close relationship with his mother. He'd even mentioned needing his mom to hold his hand for his yearly physical. It had been over an hour, and he hadn’t asked you one question about yourself! Needing a break, you excused yourself, alluding to refreshing your drink, and made your way to the bar. 

I wanted to leave him, I needed a reason "X" marks the spot where we fell apart He poisoned the well, I was lyin' to myself

The bar was packed as expected for a Friday night in San Diego. The crush of people pressed you up against the countertop. The bartenders rushed from end to end, filling out drink orders at lightning speed. You finally managed to order an Old-Fashioned and were waiting patiently for the bartender to come back with your drink, idly playing with your phone and desperately counting the minutes until you could say goodbye to your date for the night.

"One Old-Fashioned," came the harried bartender's call as she passed the cut crystal glass over the bar top towards you.

"Thanks," You chirp, praying your smile isn't as pained as you feel.

“Thanks, darlin'," is also the response from the man on your right as his hand closes over yours and the amber drink in the glass.

I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed

"O-oh!" you gasp. "Sorry, it's a zoo in here. We must have ordered the same thing!" You release the glass into his grasp.

"An old-fashioned, huh?" He enquires in a deliciously Texan twang. The rest of him is just as delicious, from the emerald eyes, the dirty blonde hair, the cut jaw with a toothpick pressed between thin lips, and the broad shoulders in a polo just a shade darker than his arresting eyes. He's tall, too, at least six feet, and for once, you don't feel like a child looking up at him. Instead, you feel positively delicate in his shadow.

"Yup," You chirp, "I needed something strong to get through what has to be the worst date I've been on in my life."

“A bad date, huh?” His voice is warm and slightly husky. While you usually wouldn’t engage with a man trying to chat with you in a bar, there’s something about this one that draws your attention.

“Yes,” you nod shyly, “it’s been terrible. But I’m sure you’ve got something better to do than hear about the bad date experience of someone you’ve just met.”

“And what,” he asks, turning the toothpick in his mouth end over end, “better thing do you think I have to do?”

Some foreign confidence inhibits you as you take a sip from the glass he places in your hand, letting the liquid slip lazily down your throat as you examine the bar around you.

“Are you sure one of those girls over there isn’t a better companion for your night?” you ask, gesturing towards a group of girls wearing skimpy dresses, sky-high heels, and sashes. They’re each holding a flute of champagne while drunkenly giggling and dancing at the edge of the dance floor. They must be a bachelorette party if the tiara and glitter are leading you right. “They look like they’d be perfect for giving you the good time you’re looking for.”

“And what would you say,” he smirks, grabbing the glass back from you and taking a swig of his own, “if I say I would like nothing more than to know exactly what it is about Mr. Average over there that’s got you all hot-n-bothered? And not in a good way, at that?”

“I’d say, another Old-Fashioned, and you’re on.” From the delight on his face, as he flags down another bartender and orders your drinks, you can see that he’s just as excited to have your full attention as you are to have his. Your decision is made even easier as you lean against the counter and peer through the crowd looking for James. You’re not even a bit surprised to see his attention on his phone in the way it hadn’t been on you when you’d been sitting across the small table from him.

It’s only a few minutes before a pair of fresh Old-Fashioneds are slid your way, and bright green eyes impale you. Taking a sip to fortify yourself, you tell him the whole sordid tale, from swiping right on Tinder to James’ idealized relationship with his ex and his codependent one with his mother. Your drink is long gone by the time you finish, and you’re fiddling with a slim straw as the last words leave you in a rush. It’s a shock to your system when a hand grasps yours.

"A pretty little thing like you shouldn't have to deal with bad dates. A man should be thanking his lucky stars for getting to take a beautiful girl like you to a place like this," the stranger purrs. 

"Smooth," you chuckle, somehow still intrigued despite having been cursing men not long before. "Now I'm just counting the minutes until it's polite for me to make an excuse to walk out of here as fast as I possibly can, and then I never have to see him again." 

"Well, sweetheart," he grins conspiratorially, "I think you've made your feelings perfectly clear already." At your questioning hum, he continues, "Seeing as how you're holding a stranger's hand at the bar and all."

You squeak in response and extricate your hand from the heat of his large palm and long, calloused fingers, face hot and cheeks flushed.

"I'm so sorry!" You apologize profusely. The handsome stranger's eyes seem amused and all-knowing as he bats down every apology spilling from your maroon lips.  Finally, he takes one step further into your space, his hand curling around your hip in a tender caress that sends heat rocketing through you.

"Tell you what, sweetheart." the hot puffs of breath into your ear send a shudder down your spine. "If the date is as bad as you say it is, I'll drive the getaway car. But first, why don’t we show him what he’s had and still missed all night?"

You're transfixed, peering up into sage green pools. This proposition will likely be a better end to the night than anything you expected. Better, definitely, than going home, changing into your pajamas, eating ice cream out of the carton, and venting on the phone to whichever one of your girls can lend a sympathetic ear.

One nod is all it takes. Your handsome stranger drags you out from your sheltered spot at the bar, making his way to the small dance floor. He twirls you around on the dance floor, song after song, in front of the table you were sitting at with your date. At first, you’re worried, not wanting a confrontation between your handsome stranger and James. But as the songs transition, you realize that you’re smiling and laughing outright, all tension dissipated in the heat of his calloused hands on you. Mr. Handsome, as you’ve dubbed him in your head, is a fighter pilot for the US Navy with a dry sense of humor that has you in paroxysms of glee. As you glide across the dance floor, you share information about yourself too. It’s gratifying to hear that he’s as devoted to his job as you are to yours.

It takes a fellow bar patron pointing the two of you out before James notices. As Mr. Handsome twirls you in a spin that wouldn’t have been out of place in Dancing With the Stars, you can see James’ face grow redder and redder.  

Mr. Handsome notices too, and with one final spin, as he clutches you close enough that you can feel the solid muscle of him against your body, he smirks out, “I’ve got you, gorgeous girl. He’s not going to touch one hair on this pretty head. And,” tone growing dark, in a growl that reduces your knees to jelly, “he’ll have to get through me to do that.” 

The song, something peppy that you couldn’t name even if you’d heard it hundreds of times before, finally draws to a close. James’ temper looks to have reached a boiling point, and just as he rises from his seat to stomp over, Mr. Handsome whisks you away, grabbing your purse in one hand as you walk past the table, with one smug wink in the man's direction. 

It was the great escape, the prison break The light of freedom on my face

You can faintly hear James' angry voice screaming, ordering you to come back, but you could care less, wholly enchanted as you are with the beautiful man holding your hand. He throws open the door to his truck in the parking lot and helps you in, and in short order, you're peeling out of the parking lot with James trying and failing to run after you.

While he was runnin' after us, I was screamin', "Go, go, go!"

The mood is light, sitting in the car after you both made your escape. The windows are down, and some country song blares lowly from the speakers. Mr. Handsome’s a chiaroscuro of color in the play of the moonlight on his skin. Every few moments, you see his eyes glance your way as if curious as to why you picked him. Finally, he pulls onto a hilltop overlooking the city and turns off the car. 

Ridin' in a getaway car There were sirens in the beat of your heart

In the silence of the summer night, any tension left in you finally drains away. It’s still a shock when he finally speaks, breaking the peace, “You know, it’s only polite to tip your getaway car driver.” 

You don’t even have to look to know there is a smug smile on his mouth. You also don’t need a mirror to know you’re flushed with the same heat he’d kept on your face all night thus far.

“Tips? Tips weren’t included in our agreement. I only remember agreeing to you driving the getaway car and showing James what he’d been missing all… night … long.” Each word dripping from your burgundy lips is punctuated by the slow glide of your fingers from his palms up his arms. Two can play the seductive game, after all. You can’t help the satisfaction on your face at seeing the blonde adonis sitting beside you, gazing back at you. 

“I’m Jake, Jake Seresin,” your handsome stranger, now Jake, introduces himself. You return the favor, gratified at the sight of his plush lips mouthing your name like he is relishing the shape of you on his tongue. The conversation, unsurprisingly, is as organic as it was when you were both whirling around on the dance floor in that bar a world away. You learn things about Jake that you’re sure he hasn’t told anyone else, just as you tell him things you haven’t told anyone too. When you finally glance at your phone, it’s well past midnight, and San Diego is aglow out of the windshield. 

“It’s past midnight,” you murmur, voice scratchy after hours of conversation and laughter.

“How was that for your first date in a long time?” Jake posits, eyes hooded, and long limbs languid as they stretch before him.

“Pretty good,” you respond, captivated again by the glow of his eyes in the moonlight. “The getaway driving was the highlight of the night after all. The only thing left is to go home and maybe get a kiss goodnight. You game?” There’s a twinkle of mischief in your eyes and an equally mischievous glint in Jake’s. 

“Well, darlin’,” he groans, “I can do you one better. I can kiss you now, sitting in this car, and taste that gorgeous mouth now and then again on your doorstep. What do you say?”

Your grin is perhaps over-eager as you haul yourself into his lap and finally, desperately kiss him like some part of you had been aching to since you left the bar. He takes the lead fairly soon, cradling you against his chest like you’re everything precious in his life. The kisses finally peter off into presses of lips against any exposed skin, gentle and sweet. You can feel the thundering beat of his heart under your hand and soft puffs of breath against the top of your head,

A sinking feeling seeps into you as Jake deposits you carefully back in the passenger seat with a kiss on your forehead and helps you buckle your seatbelt up again. Things are quiet as he navigates you home, the silence punctuated only with long, heat-filled glances and the voice of the GPS taking you home. Too soon, the truck pulls up in front of your house.

“This is me,” you say, injecting false levity in your tone, sad to be leaving Jake when you’d just found him. Jake is the requisite gentleman who lopes around the front of his truck to open the door and help you out. You walk to the door hand in hand, clinging desperately to the feelings of comfort and affection Jake had created in you in one magical evening. 

“Jake,” you peer up at him, playing with his fingers, “before that goodnight kiss you promised me. What are the likelihoods you’d want to do something like this with me again?”

“Chances, pretty girl,” he’s grinning now, something softer and sweeter than the smirk he’d leveled at James hours ago, “are pretty damned good. But first, I’d need your phone number. It’s the only reliable way I know of to get in touch with you again, after all.”

You nod, digging your phone out of your purse, unlocking it, and handing it to him. Phone number saved, Jake slips the phone back into your bag. He then tips your face up, hands gently splayed across your jaw as he feathers the promised goodnight kiss across your lips, the apples of both cheeks, and your forehead. He then presses one final kiss against your lips, a kiss potent enough to make your legs weak, and then steps back, smiling from ear to ear as he watches you unlock your door with shaking hands.

“Text me, gorgeous girl!” 

Those are the last words you hear as you step into your dark house and lock the door behind you.  A ridiculous dopy, giddy grin dances across your lips at the thought of Jake Seresin wanting to see you again. They always say, "No, nothin' good starts in a getaway car," but as you fall asleep in your bed that night with a text zipping through the night air to him, you know that Jake Seresin will be different. You have this sneaking suspicion that he thinks the same of you.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[spicycinnabun]

Delivered

WC: 3031 🥠 Rated: T 🥠 on Ao3

Somebody was banging on the front door.

“Who the fuck is there?” Mickey barked from the bathroom.

He had just gotten out of the shower and wasn’t expecting anyone to show up at the house tonight. Unexpected visitors were never a good sign. He wrapped a towel around his hips and held it closed, exiting the cloud of steam.

“Delivery!” came the reply, muffled behind pine.

“Ain’t ordered no delivery,” Mickey muttered, tromping to the door. His feet left wet patches on the carpet. He hadn’t even dried his hair yet, so it was dripping too, as he grabbed his Glock from the side table. Mickey opened the door without checking the peephole.

Sure enough, a delivery guy was standing on his porch in a green baseball cap and a tight grey t-shirt.

He looked startled for a moment, probably by Mickey’s appearance and the pistol in his hand, but he recovered with a (friendly?) half-smirk. “Order from Wok Around The Clock for Mickey?”

Mickey eyed the guy, trying not to focus on the broad shoulders or the sculpted chest. “Yeah, I’m Mickey, but I didn’t order any shit from—” he cut himself off, gesturing towards the logo on the guy’s shirt, “there.”

He’d ordered from Wok Around The Clock plenty of times—usually, he went and picked it up himself—but he was never going to repeat that stupid fucking name out loud.

“Well, someone did, and they used your name and address.” The guy held up a brown paper bag that was stapled shut and spattered with grease. “You might as well take it. It’s just going to go to waste otherwise. And hey,” he joked, “free noods. Doesn’t everybody like those?”

Mickey stared at him.

The guy ducked his head. With his cap obscuring his eyes, Mickey just saw the slightly pink apples of his cheeks and a magnitude of freckles.

“It’s already paid for? Guess it would be foolish of me to pass up free grub,” he admitted, putting the Glock back onto the side table. He snatched the bag from the delivery guy’s fingers, peeking inside. “What’s in here?”

“Chow mein with extra beef, egg rolls, and Ian.”

Mickey’s brows furrowed. “The fuck is Ian?”

“My name. Thought you’d wanna know.”

What the fuck…?

Mickey’s head whipped up, and his face heated unexpectedly. “Why, you want a fuckin’ five-star review on your app or some shit? Already told you I didn’t order, man. I can’t do that.”

Why hadn’t he just slammed the door and started enjoying his free noods—noodles—already, damn it?

“No…” Ian laughed. He finally lifted his head, and the light caught his eyes. Green and sparkling with amusement.

If Mickey didn’t know better, he’d say Ian was checking him out, too. He was still wearing that half-smirk that was turning into a (more than friendly?) full smirk the longer Mickey looked at it.

But Mickey did know better. People didn’t do that to him. Guys didn’t do that to him. Especially not guys like… this. Attractive, tall, kinda alien-looking ones.

“I don’t need a review, but if you have any complaints, I can give you my number.”

Mickey let go of his towel in disbelief. It nearly dropped off his hips until he hastily grabbed it again with a scrunched fist. Ian’s eyes tracked the movement. “The fuck you just say?”

Had Mickey gotten water in his fucking ears that was disturbing his fucking hearing? Or…

“If you have any complaints—about the food, the service, anything—Wok Around The Clock would love to hear them,” Ian replied smoothly. He took a pen out of his pocket (like some fucking boy scout), uncapped it with his teeth, and wrote something down on the side of the bag that Mickey was still holding. “Or if you want to talk to us in person, we’re just… a wok around the block.” He winked.

Winked.

Mickey let it happen. The bad joke, the—the whatever this was. He was so flabbergasted that he had turned into a fucking statue.

Faced with Mickey’s silence, Ian finally started to look a bit sheepish. He capped his pen and slid it back into his jeans’ pocket. “Okay. Well, enjoy your meal. See ya.”

He ducked away before Mickey could pick his brain up off the floor, getting into a black pickup truck parked on the street. It growled to life, and he lifted his hand to wave at Mickey before speeding off.

Mickey stood there staring until one of his neighbors, Connie, walked by with her beagle and a little girl. Both the girl and beagle were on harness leashes, and Connie looked like she had gone one too many rounds with a tanning bed, all red and splotchy.

She stopped when she noticed him, yanking the leash straps and making the little girl squeal as she was pulled back. “Hey, Milkovich, nobody wants to see your tits! Go on back inside before you scar my neice with your pervert peep show.”

“Lookin’ at your overbaked lasagna of a face every day, I’m sure she’s already scarred for life, Ms. Hannigan,” Mickey said. He closed the door on her middle finger.

*

After he was dry and dressed, Mickey settled on his couch in front of the coffee table and took a few big, healthy shots from a bottle of whiskey to shake off some nerves he had no idea why he even had. Then, once sufficiently buzzed and relaxed, he started devouring the free food that was mysteriously his usual order—Chow mein with extra beef, egg rolls, and Ian.

Christ, Ian wasn’t part of his usual.

Weird fuckin’ guy.

Weird, big shoulders, perfect for hanging onto.

Weird, sweet face that was kinda nice to look at?

Mickey’s teeth clacked against his fork. He felt warmth creep up his neck as his eyes strayed from the TV playing an old Friends rerun to the handwritten phone number on the side of the bag.

468-7883

Call me ;)

Call him. Like hell Mickey would call him. And that fucking winky face. That was suspicious, right? Why was it there?

His rescue kitten, Lucifur, took the opportunity to swipe a packet of plum sauce from the table and start playing with it on the floor while he was distracted.

“You think he was hittin’ on me?” Mickey asked him.

It was possible but… unlikely. The guy hadn’t seemed fruity at all. Didn’t do any weird shit with his voice or hands. Not like any of the fags Mickey had ever come across. More like him. Like, regular.

Lucifur ignored him, continuing to roll around happily with the packet. Mickey leaned over to grab it from him before he tore a hole in it with his claws and got plum sauce everywhere. He got scratched for his trouble but headbutted a few seconds later.

“Little shit.” Mickey scooped him up and stroked him affectionately. “You don’t got any opinion on this?”

Lucifur closed his eyes and purred, his whole body vibrating. Mickey leaned back, and Lucifur walked up his chest, curling up in the crook of his neck. Mickey couldn’t prevent the soft smile that bloomed across his face. “Guess not.”

Between the booze, the full belly of food he now had, and the tiny black fluffball of doom warming him from the inside out, Mickey could have fallen right to sleep.

He unlocked his phone instead, pulling up his contact list and adding a new one. He named it Complaint Dept. and shot off a text before he could talk himself out of it.

Yo I got a complaint about my order

Not enough beef

He dropped his phone onto his chest without waiting for the Delivered message to show up.

On the TV, Chandler said, “Oh please, could she be more out of my league?”

“He ain’t out of my league. He’s a fuckin’ delivery boy,” Mickey argued, defensive for no reason and talking to the TV like a fucking psycho. He really needed to get out more.

Lucifur mrrr’d like he agreed with that thought, tucking a paw beneath the collar of Mickey’s shirt and extending his claws to knead Mickey’s collarbone. Mickey let out a curse at the pinpricks in his skin but didn’t stop their assault.

His phone lit up with a notification. Mickey tilted the screen towards his face.

Complaint Dept. (now)

Oh really? I’m sure I can fix that. How much beef do you need, Mickey?

Mickey snorted and tapped on the notif to open the message, semi-drunk fingers fumbling over the tiny keyboard. He started this shit. He might as well play along.

It was also a good sign (why?) that the guy immediately knew it was Mickey. That meant he wasn’t a fuck boy who hit on every Tom, Dick, and Harry that he delivered food to. Probably.

How much you got?

I’ll take it all

Delivered

If they were talking about what he thought they were talking about, he was like seventy-five percent sure now that they were flirting.

Most guys can’t take everything I’ve got. You sure you can?

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up. Okay, ninety-five percent sure.

Guys you been with sound like complete pussies

Delivered

That was probably a lie, too. Outside of porn, the majority of guys were less than average or average in the dick department. (Hell, Mickey included.) And the small handful of guys that Mickey had fucked had talked a big game, but when it came to actually whipping it out and performing… eh. Disappointing. In size and delivery. So much so that he’d actually stopped one mid-fuck and topped him instead.

He got a response a few minutes later. It was enough time for him to reach out for his pack of smokes on the coffee table and light one up, blowing the smoke away from Lucifur.

What are you doing right now?

Mickey bit his lip. Was that supposed to be a sexy question? Was Ian trying to sext with him or some shit? Should he send a picture of his dick?

“Nah, too desperate,” Mickey decided. No way was he about to give the guy a personal penis portrait to hang up in his bedroom.

He opened his camera app and reversed it, angling the lens above himself. He missed the shutter button on the first try and nearly dropped his phone on his fucking face, but he got it on the second try. All that was included in the shot was his chest, Lucifur, the lower half of his face with his cigarette caught between his smirking lips, and his left hand, middle finger aloft.

Chillin with this villain

No free nudes for you, sorry

Delivered

Mickey watched the screen. It didn’t take long for those three dots to start dancing.

I’ll take a hot guy with a kitten over a dick pic any day of the week.

Mickey’s stomach swooped, brows furrowing. Hot… Him? Nobody had ever called him that before. Dirty guy? Sure. Smelly guy? Definitely. But hot guy? That was fucking new. Slowly, his brows smoothed out, and a gay-ass smile spread across his face as he read the sentence a few (dozen) more times. He was glad not even Lucifur was awake to see this. Shit was embarrassing.

Ian asked him a few questions. The kitten’s name, where he got him, and if Mickey had any other pets. Mickey was baffled why the guy gave a fuck, but the whiskey was making him more open to conversation, so he answered and even asked one of his own.

You got any?

Delivered

A picture of a German shepherd popped up on his screen. Its upper half rested on what Mickey assumed was Ian’s lap, and its head was lifted towards the camera, tongue lolling out happily like it had just finished playing for hours. It wore a blue collar with a shiny gold tag, and an alligator-shaped chew toy was between its paws. A big, freckly hand was buried in its fur, in the middle of ruffling its ears.

My girl, Lyla. Retired military K-9 unit. Best dog in the whole country.

Well, shit. Mickey’s smile grew a little. Fact that Ian was an animal lover might’ve been attractive as hell. He ashed his cigarette in the tray and picked up the whiskey bottle.

Cute

Bet you spoil her to death

Delivered

Mickey looked at the picture some more. He could see a dusting of hair all over Ian’s corded forearm. Why were the visible veins in his hand kinda hot? The hair was orange-ish, coppery, too. He was a redhead. Fuckin’ hot. Mickey nearly spit out his whiskey when the next message appeared.

You wanna sit on my lap next? I could spoil you too.

Mickey swallowed wrong and coughed, putting the bottle back on the table and thumping his chest. Lucifur let out a mew of complaint as he was disturbed. Mickey’s heart went haywire as he reread the message. It was a dumb joke, he knew, but hell. Ian sure was shooting his shot.

Mickey could flirt back.

Sure you could

Delivered

Okay, maybe he couldn’t.

You don’t sound convinced. I can fix that too.

Mickey pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting another whiskey-fueled blush. More like he didn’t know what the fuck to say.

Think you might be all bark

No bite

Delivered

A dog joke. Nice, Milkovich. Real flirtatious.

Oh, I bite. If you ask nice. Sometimes I even like it…ruff. 🦴️

Despite himself, Mickey laughed. What a fucking nerd.

Lucifur, having had enough of Mickey’s constant jostling, hopped off him, tiny tail flicking. He meowed demandingly until Mickey scooped him up by the belly and lowered him to the ground. Mickey watched Lucifur scamper to the kitchen, making sure the little idiot didn't brain himself on the corner of the wall, before focusing on his phone again.

The TV had already moved on to another sitcom. This time, a rerun of How I Met Your Mother was playing.

Do those awful fucking jokes ever get you any ass?

Delivered

The dots did their dance.

Only the coolest guys like my jokes. Are you cool, Mickey?

On the TV, Ted said, “Shouldn’t we hold out for the person who doesn’t just tolerate our little quirks but actually kinda likes them?”

Mickey pulled his lip into his mouth, grinning. He guessed he could stroke the dork’s ego. Just this once.

Coolest motherfucker you ever met

Delivered

Nothing happened on the screen for long enough that Mickey got up and cleared the coffee table, packing up his leftovers and putting them in the fridge for the next day. He noticed a lone fortune cookie in the bottom of the bag as he was about to crush it up and put it in the trash, so he fished it out.

He also refilled Lucifur’s kibble and replaced his water with some fresh stuff from the tap since the little guy was howling in front of his bowls like he hadn’t eaten in three goddamn years. Never mind he was only five months old and had eaten a can of wet food only two hours ago.

Mickey was a bit unsteady on his feet and just drunk enough that his dumb fucking smile was still plastered across his face as he cracked open the fortune cookie and unrolled the little piece of paper.

“The greatest risk is not taking one,” Mickey read out loud, smile disappearing. “You callin' me a coward, bitch?”

Great, now he was talking to fortune cookies.

His lucky numbers were…

4 6 8 7 88 3

That looked familiar. “You can’t be fucking serious!”

Mickey squinted, dropping the fortune and fumbling for his phone to double-check, but he nearly had a heart attack when he saw the notification waiting for him. His ass hit the couch again as his world went loopy.

Complaint Dept. (2 minutes ago)

Does that mean you’d agree to go out on a date with me?

…Ian, the delivery guy he’d just met, wanted to take him out on a date?

Not a hookup. Like, a real fucking date? With fuckin’ conversation and shit?

Mickey was not sober enough to answer that, but his fingers were moving before his brain could catch up.

Don’t really do dates

Delivered

Had never done it, was the truth. Not even with a woman. Not even with Svetlana.

What kinda date?

Delivered

He was out of his fucking mind. He shouldn’t have asked that.

The dots danced again.

We could go for a drink?

Or something sweet? I know a great ice cream place.

“Christ.” Mickey covered his face with his palms. His heart was racing like his dad was about to rise from the grave and burst through the door with an AK-47 pointed right at his head. Mickey peeked out between his fingers when his phone pinged five more times in quick succession.

But it’s okay!

If you don’t want to.

No pressure.

Though you will be missing out on some great comedy.

I have a whole arsenal of puns you still haven’t heard.

Over the years, Mickey had never talked to anyone like this. There was never an opportunity for someone to flirt with him or ask him out. He was short and to the point. None of his one-night stands had even made it to the morning. Out of his bed before the sun rose every time—if they even made it to his bed in the first place. Even chit-chat was kept to a minimum.

His door had been slammed shut and bolted with his back pressed hard against it, fueled by fear, since he was a teenager.

But maybe now it was finally open. Just a crack.

“Go to hell, you fuckin’ prick,” Mickey muttered, picturing Terry’s rage-filled face. His thumbs tapped out a message.

That’d be a shame

Won’t scream for it, but I do like ice cream

Delivered

You don’t have to scream for the ice cream.

But you might scream for me. ;)

Mickey sniffed, then blew out an amused snort. Fucking winky-faced cheesy fucker.

Yeah

Guess we’ll see about that

Delivered

[wonderbias]

Somebody else

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader.

Genre: Fluff, humor, angst.

Warnings: language, NSFW, Aemond being a hypocrite.

Word count: 3.5k

This is Part 2 of Secrets (Your fire).

All of this work was inspired by Symptom of your Touch by @yoonivy.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

             I don't want your body

But I hate to think about you with somebody else

‐--------------------------------------------------------‐------------------------------------------------

She wished she could concentrate on her notebook. Oh, she wished she could.

Let's see…the piping system is not the one that's failing, must be this hea-

"So yeah, he turned me around and started pounding me from behind, he likes to see my ass…"

Concentrate. Concentrate.

Check the equations. There must be an error in the press-

"...but what I like is the aftertaste after sucking him off, like my tong-"

ESCAPE. GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE.

She then feels a hand on her back, and her friend and classmate Selene offers her a biscuit.

"Have you found the error?" Selene asks while moving closer to her laptop.

She shakes her head, a mistake because she was with an awful migraine.

"No, I haven't. The sexual talk behind me distracts me. I'm horrified.", she grabs one more biscuit before leaning closer to her friend. "Is it really necessary to talk about how much you like the aftertaste of your boyfriend after-"

"Eww! Wait, seriously? They were talking about that here? The professor is not even three meters away!" Selene makes a noise of disgust before shaking her head in disbelief. "That's…really out of place. Talk about that outside the classroom."

She shrugs, a gesture of 'What do you want me to say?' on her face.

They stay like that for a few hours, correcting and modifying the equations and talking about stuff.

"So, did you and Jon formalize the relationship or are you still…you know, tasting the waters?" she asked her friend, interested in her love life.

Selene blushed at the mention of Jon. They had met on a dating app and were dating-but-not for a year.

Then the professor announced the end of the class dismissing them. She packed her stuff and checked her phone.

Aemond T.

Last connection 19:04

Are you on campus?                                                                                                                                                                                                 Yeeeees.

                                                                                                Just finished my last

What do you say if

                                             class     

we go out for a drink?

It's Friday after all.

                                                                                              Ohhh, I like your idea

                                                                                              But I have my laptop

                                                                                              here and I would

                                                                                              need to change my

                                                                                              clothes

I can drive you to

your house, don't

need to take the bus.

                                                                                                                    Really?

Anything for my princess

                                                                                                      HAHAHAHHA

                                                                                                                    Duude 

                                                        stop quoting

Tommy Wiseau

                                                                                              If you dye your hair

                                                                                            black you would look

                                                                                              like Tommy Wiseau

Wow.

Thank you.

My self-esteem is

crushed now.

                                                                                                              😘😘😘

Not for you.

                                                    So, you're in the

parking lot?

                                                                                                          On my way

She then places her phone in her jeans. Selene was waiting for her.

While they were walking they kept talking about Selene and Jon, she had confirmed that they were indeed dating.         

"I must admit when you told me you were on a dating app I thought that there was no way that there was going to be a positive outcome," she said while nudging her friend with her elbow. "I still remember the funny stories of the guys and girls that messaged you. Ah, good times."

"Oh, shut up. For every ten that I blocked, only one was decent. But…yes, it was fun. I felt that it was the best for meeting someone without having to meet them, you know?" Sel said to her. She was now typing a message to her boyfriend, asking for a pick-up. She then looked at her friend and had an idea. "Babe, open yourself a Tinder."

She laughed loudly.

"Oh no, not in this lifetime. Also, I don't have pictures of myself and, what could I say I look for?" she answered to her friend. Deep down she knew what she wanted.

She wanted hi-

"But it would be perfect for you! Listen to me, listen: I'll help you, I'll be managing your profile and I'll take your photos, all you have to do is make the match and answer messages. It's perfect!", Sel said to her friend, she was excited about this new idea. "Come on! It's perfect! It'll help you find someone worthy of…distraction."

No, she didn't want him. It was a childish crush. Just a childish crush. It would pass.

She sighed. A part of her wanted to. The other part wanted to enumerate the dangers of meeting with strangers, not too happy with the idea.

But, she always needed a little push to do things. If her friend wanted and was willing to help her…maybe she should accept.

They came across Aemond's car, her best friend was outside waiting for her. He looked like a Balenciaga model: pure angles and boots, while also looking like the typical 'bad boy' that all Wattpad novels liked.

To keep it simple: he looked gorgeous, his beauty was out of this world. She thanked every God out there that she had no talent or ability for drawing or composing music, for she was sure that she would spend endless nights searching the right tone of blue for his eyes, or trying to express in a melody the way his laugh made the whole room brighter.

Oh, God. She was doomed.

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They were driving to her house so that she could drop her laptop and her bag, and also for her to change into a nicer set of clothes.

"You can stay in my apartment tonight. Don't worry," Aemond had said when they were a few blocks away from her house.

"Are you sure? I don't want to intrude," she says while looking for her keys in her bag.

She turns to look at him, he's furrowing his eyebrows, his lips slightly pressed.

"Of course. I'm inviting you because I want to and you're more than welcome," says Aemond, his lips now curled in a small smile. "Maybe we could have a sleepover. Ah! We can braid our hair and prank call guys!"

He laughs like he said the best joke ever.

It's not. Aemond has as much humor as a mass funeral. She groans.

"Are you joking or are you serious?"

"... I'm joking, but that's what girls do at sleepovers, don't they?"

"And I suppose that all guys do in sleepovers is go in a round and suck each other's di-"

"What the fuck are you talking about?! Where did you see that?!"

"I'm just asking! What did you do in sleepovers?"

"I JUST SLEPT LIKE A NORMAL PERSON."

"Are you sure? We both know you're not exactly normal…you like to keep your dick warm and wet…maybe you like to do it in front of a mirror…"

"..."

"...did you knot inside someone?"

"GET OUT OF MY CAR!"

She laughed loudly before getting out of the car in the direction of her house.

"I'll be back in a little while!" she screamed at him before closing the door to her house.

He sighed and then looked in the mirror, his face was red. His best friend could make him blush with her dirty jokes and her humor, since he met her he had found that keeping a straight face was hard, but she always managed to make him laugh and blush.

Aemond T.

Twenty minutes had passed and she still hadn't appeared. He pulled her phone to text her.

On line

What's taking you so long?

I hope you're not reading

the fic upload.

                                                                                          Noo, my sister wants

                                                                                          me to put makeup.

                                                                                          And I already read it

                                                                                          I'M SO ANGRY

                                                                                          WHY CAN'T BATMAN

                                                                                          AND CATWOMAN GET

                                                                                          MARRIED AND RAISE 

                                                                                          THEIR ELEVEN KIDS

                                                                                          TOGETHER?

I liked it. Selina

                                                                                          WHYYYYYYYY

wasn't ready for

the life Bruce wanted

to have.

                                                                                          WHAT

                                                                                          THEY HAVE TO GET

                                                                                          MARRIED OR I'LL DIE

It's just a fic

In the comics she dumps

him too, a lot of times.

                                                                                        I'm ready

                                                                                        And I don't want to talk

                                                                                        about it. It's sad.😭😭😭

A little while later, she came out of her house. Her bag with her pajamas and other stuff in one hand, her purse in another. She was all in black, black shorts, a black top, a black coat, and black shoes.

"Wait. Are you wearing high heels?" Aemond said with a little surprise in his voice, she never wore high heels mainly because she was tall, almost six feet, and they made her self-conscious. "That's why it took you so long to come over here?"

"Ha. Ha. Ha. I'm laughing. No, my sister took me some pictures, Selene texted her and asked that she take some photos of me all dressed up. Hence the makeup," she pointed to her lips and eyes, where the makeup was more noticeable. Her lips were painted in a shade of red that reminded him of cherries. Did lipstick taste like fruits?

Wait…photos? She had taken a picture? She never did. He was lucky that he had one picture with her. 

"Sel asked you for pictures? Why?", he asked with confusion in his eyes. He then had an idea and decided to joke with her. "Are you opening an Only Fans?"

But she mentioned Selene, why would she ask her for pictures?

She laughed and swatted his shoulder.

"No you idiot, the only thing I would be able to sell would be pictures of my feet," she said with amusement in her voice. "No, I'm…wait, promise me you won't laugh or mock me."

He raised one perfect brow. 

"Now I'm intrigued. But yes, I promise I won't make fun of you."

"I'm opening a Tinder account," she said, excited at the idea.

"What?!" He was sure his eyes were going to pop out of his skull. "You can't be serious."

"Why? It's a good idea. Sel will manage my profile and all that, I just have to make the matches and talk. She found Jon like that, maybe…I can meet someone, or make new friends," she said, a small smile on her lips, eyes full of hope and want. 

He wanted to tell her of the risks, of the exposure, of the rude people she would meet. He wanted to protect her from the deception and humiliation. He wanted her to know that guys could be playing with her or even using her. But he couldn't.

She was so excited, so willing to meet new people, so…hopeful and eager for new experiences. How could he destroy that? Who was he to tell her that what she searched for was impossible?

They were grown-ups, both of them now 24, and still she had never experienced a relationship. He knew that it was something that made her feel less.

He then parked the car, just a block away from the club. His hand ran through his hair while his mind decided to avoid the topic for the night.

"We're here. Come on." he motioned for her to get out of the car and the both of them began to walk through the sidewalk.

She wasn't accustomed to walking in high heels, but he had to say she did a pretty good job at concealing it.

He furrowed his eyebrows at the intrusive thought. Yes, she was tall, why wouldn't she have long legs? Great reasoning Aemond.

She has really long legs.

They managed to enter the club, his hand protectively laying on the middle of her back softly pushed her to enter first, the air of the place felt hot against his face. He sighed and followed her inside.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After she drank the first sip of her gin-tonic, he pulled closer to talk in her ear.

"Take my credit card," he said, his breath warm on her cheek. "I invite you, pay whenever you want."

She blushed a little at the closeness but nodded. He smiled at her and ruffled her hair.

"So, how's the whiskey?"

"Surprisingly good. Your gin?"

"Already kicking in." she smiled at him, her fingers drumming on the table. "Why did you react like that in the car?"

He furrowed his eyebrows, "What are you talking about?"

"Aemond…come on. You were shocked when I told you that I would be creating a profile in a dating app, what's wrong with it?" she asked.

He looked down, his index finger scratching the table. After a deep breath, he raised his gaze and met her eyes.

"I think you're taking an unnecessary risk," he admitted, arms crossed. "You can…get hurt and expose yourself to danger."

She took a sip of her drink, the bittersweet taste calming her.

"Why an unnecessary risk? It's a safe way of meeting people and, on the contrary, I'm not exposing myself to danger. I already have everything planned," she assured him.

He condescendingly rolled his eyes, she didn't understand his point.

"Everything rarely comes out as planned, you know that. There are situations where not even a “Plan C” can prepare you for," he remarked. He then moved closer and lowered his voice. "What would you do if the person ghosts you? What if they are insistent and never leave you alone? What if…what if they want to do something that you're not comfortable doing and you're not in a public place?"

"I'm not a child, I know the risks, and those are the same risks that I would face if I met someone in person and agreed to go on a date," she answered in an arrogant tone, her anger already bubbling. Or was it shame?

He only shook his head in disbelief.

"You're being unnecessarily stubborn," he replied to her in the same condescending tone. He noticed that she was already huffing, a haughty look on her face. Now he was also getting pissed off, why wouldn't she understand? 

He drank the last of his whiskey, "I'll be honest: you lack romantic interaction and you have an idealistic view of what to expect in a relationship. They'll take advantage of you and you'll end up humiliated, disappointed, and losing your virginity to some asshole who only wants to get it wet for a night. You're a middle schooler playing with adults when it involves romance and sexual relationships, you know nothing."

For a couple of minutes, the tension was almost palpable. She didn't know if the music beat was making her dizzy or if it was her rapid heartbeat. She could see in his eyes a little regret but his pride and arrogance wouldn't let him admit he had been too harsh on her.

"I…I might lack a lot of things, experience is one of them. You may be right in…everything, I can't compete with your reasoning," she replied with the last ounces of dignity she had left, he had made sure of wiping what was left of her self-esteem. "But I can't take seriously your words when you fucked for months your brother best friend and then pinned around her like a fucking lost puppy. The one that lacks social cues here is you."

She then stood up, her legs a little shaky.

With her legs a little wobbly and barely containing the tears she walked to the bathroom. Once inside a cubicle, she let them fall.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aemond went to ask for another whiskey. Then another and another. What she had said…yeah, it was like being slapped, she had no right-

Fuck. She had every right. He had been terribly out of place. Seven Hells, he crushed her self-esteem, called her a 'middle schooler' when it came to relationships, and even mocked her virginity. 

The asshole of the year prize was for him.

He wanted to apologize, to tell her that what he had said had been all a lie. But, how? What he had said were his real thoughts.

She was too…he didn't want to say innocent, but…she needed someone who loved and cared for her, who appreciated what and who she was, not an idiot who thought with his dick. She needed someone worthy of her…and it was almost impossible to find someone that did.

He sighed and emptied his glass, not wanting to think anymore.

"You seem deep in thought…you're too handsome to have that look upon your face," a rich and velvety voice talked to him.

He turned around to find a girl sitting on a stool. Dark hair, full lips, small nose, dressed up in a dark red dress.

He pulled his best charming smile and nodded.

He could use a distraction.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She liked the cubicle. It was small, surprisingly clean, and allowed her privacy.

She didn't want to leave, but at the same time she wanted her bed, wanted the weight of the blankets over her body, wanted to forget for a little while she existed.

A sudden knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. "Hey, you, all right? Are you crying?" a soft voice talked to her.

"Honey, we heard you. Come on, we don't bite," another voice, a little raspier, said to her.

"Oh no, no I'm fine," Gods, she didn't want any more humiliation.

With a sigh, she opened the door and found herself surrounded by three girls.

"Boyfriend?" a soft voice asked. 

"Best friend," she replied with a sniff.

"Best friend who you're in love with?" the red-haired with a headband asked.

She stared deep in thought at the mirror and nodded.

"Well…we're here to help," said the girl with a slightly raspy voice.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She didn't know how long she had been dancing. After a really long talk and some comfort, the group of girls invited her to dance with them. A good distraction.

Her hands were intertwined with the red-haired girl, her feet hurt and she didn't know the song, but she felt a rush of happiness that she hadn't felt in some time. She couldn't help but grin at every twist that her feet did, her hips moving to the rhythm of the music.

After twisting and changing positions she raised her gaze, and she found him.

There he was, sitting down in the bar, a gorgeous brunette at his side, her hand on his chest. 

She could only raise her hand to give him the middle finger, immediately noticing his whole demeanor changing. 

She turned around to keep dancing, her hands wiping the tears on her face.

Another friendship lost.

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

It was well past 3 am. She was tired, her head and body hurt, and she couldn't tolerate another second standing on those bloody heels.

"Hi mom, could you pick me up?... Yes, Aemond had a family emergency and had to leave, couldn't drop me by… Okay, I'll wait," she talked over the phone, saying lie after lie, hoping that nobody asked.

As for Aemond…he had left with that gorgeous woman, without looking back at her. 

He even dared to leave her a last text.

Aemond T.

Last connection 2:25

Remember you have

my card. Don't lose it.

Had he always thought of her like that? Like she was some kind of idiot that wandered in life with an idealistic view of relationships? She had thought he understood her, how lonely and out of place she felt in the world. 

I was only being

honest. I'm sorry I hurt

you, that wasn't my

intention.

Let me know when you

get home.

She had thought of using his credit card to buy her new friends' drinks, but she didn't want to make things worse over money. So, she had used it to pay for their drinks, only to find he had invited someone a mojito, what a gentleman. She snickered at the thought.

Fuck, they even shared fanfiction with each other, he was as weird as she was. 

Yeah, it fucking hurt to be called all that but, to be disregarded like that by the person you've been in love for four years? By the person you thought was your rock, that would never leave your side? 

She hadn't expected that.

Not from him.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The woman in his bed moaned as he fucked her from behind, his hands gripping her hips while maintaining an animalistic pace. The smell of sex filled his room.

"Yes! Yes! Oh! Right there…!", she came around him, hard, whimpering as his hips maintained the same rhythm in search for his release.

He unexpectedly came hard, like he hadn't done it in a long time. Moans and indescribable sounds coming out of his mouth. They stayed like that for a while, until their breathing came back to normal.

He pulled out and went to discard the condom in his bathroom. When he came back, his companion was still in the same position watching him with an indescribable look in her eyes.

"The girl that was with you, who is she?" the brunette asked, her voice raspy from all her screaming. The woman looked at him with something akin to amusement.

"My best friend," he answered dryly. They were still friends, right?

"And does she have a name?"

He raised a brow in curiosity but still answered, saying the name of his best friend. 

His companion burst out laughing, tears falling from her eyes at the fun in the situation.

"What's so funny about that?" he was getting a little tired of being mocked.

"Nothing…just wanted to know to who belonged the name you were moaning as you came."