#i wish I could be as smooth brained as all the people who have said that to me I REALLY do
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People b like hOw cOuLd yOu pOsSiBLy mOVe tO AuStRaLiA?!? lol I’d do it but THUH BUGZZZS THEY KILL U NO THANKS!1!1!!1!1!1!!1!1!!1!1!1! TERRIFYING!!!!!!!!
#i wish I could be as smooth brained as all the people who have said that to me I REALLY do#like it’s genuinely my biggest pet peeve in the world lmao like do you HEAR YOURSELF#no one on here it’s been an ALARMING amount of irl’s#when I’m on tour I walk down the street genuinely afraid every person I pass could kill me#here I peed in a porta potty once and saw a freaky bug
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Sometimes, life is busy. You shouldn't let that stop you from enjoying a good book, but who has the time to read the same words over and over again?
For your enjoyment and convenience, I have removed all duplicate words from the first Keeper of the Lost Cities book.
blurry fractured memories swam through sophie’s mind but she couldn’t piece them together tried opening her eyes and found only darkness something rough pressed against wrists ankles refusing to let move a wave of cold rushed as the horrifying realization dawned was hostage cloth across lips stifled cry for help sedative’s sweet aroma stung nose when inhaled making head spin were they going kill would black swan really destroy their own creation what point project moonlark then everblaze drug lulled toward dreamless oblivion fought back clinging one memory that could shine tiny spot light in thick inky haze pair beautiful aquamarine fitz’s first friend new life ever maybe if hadn’t noticed him day museum none this have happened no knew it’d been too late even white fires already burning curving city filling sky with sticky smoke spark before blaze miss foster mr sweeney’s nasal voice cut blaring music he yanked earbuds out by cords you decided you’re smart pay attention information sophie forced open not wince bright fluorescents reflected off vivid blue walls amplifying throbbing headache hiding sweeney mumbled shrinking under glares now staring classmates pulled shoulder-length blond hair around face wishing hide behind it exactly kind went way avoid why wore dull colors lurked blocked other kids who at least foot taller than survive twelve-year-old high school senior perhaps can explain listening your ipod instead following along held up like evidence crime though probably he’d dragged class natural history balboa park assuming his students be excited about all-day field trip didn’t seem realize unless giant dinosaur replicas came started eating people cared tugged loose eyelash nervous habit stared feet there make understand needed cancel noise hear chatter from dozens tourists echoed fossil-lined splashed cavernous room mental voices real problem scattered disconnected pieces thoughts broadcast straight into brain being hundreds tvs different shows same time sliced consciousness leaving sharp pains wake freak secret burden since fell hit five years old she’d blocking ignoring nothing helped never tell anyone wouldn’t you’ve above lecture don’t give asked pointed enormous orange duckbill center how lambeosaurus differs dinosaurs we’ve studied repressed sigh flashed an image card front display glanced entered photographic recorded every detail recited facts twisted scowl classmates’ grow increasingly sour weren’t fans resident child prodigy called curvebuster finished answer grumbled sounded know-it-all stalked exhibit next over follow thin separating two rooms block muffled grabbed little relief nice job superfreak garwin chang boy wearing t-shirt said i’m gonna fart sneered shoved past join they’ll write another article child teaches lame-o-saurus still bitter yale had offered full scholarship rejection letter arrived few weeks allowed go parents much pressure young end discussion so attending closer smaller san diego college year fact some annoying reporter newsworthy enough post local paper chooses ivy league complete photo freaked wasn’t strong word more half rules unnecessary front-page articles pretty worst nightmare they’d newspaper complain editor seemed unhappy story run place on arsonist terrorizing trying figure mistake bizarre white-hot flames smelled burnt sugar took priority everything especially unimportant girl most ignore or used caught sight tall dark-haired reading yesterday’s embarrassing black-and-white looked seen particular shade teal smooth sea glass beach glittered flickered expression gaze disappointment decide shrugged leaning closed distance between smile belonged movie screen heart did weird fluttery thing is pointing picture nodded feeling tongue-tied fifteen far cutest talking i thought squinted brown uh yeah sure say reason felt conversation accent british somehow crisper which bothered know are suck words soon left mouth course boys cute made mushy perfect returned told hulking greenish standing albertosaurus all its lizardesque glory me do think that’s it’s absurd
isn’t see saw small t rex: big teeth ridiculously short arms fine laughed i’ll get meet turned leave just classes kindergartners barreled fossil crushing screaming knock step whole realm pain kids’ stinging high-pitched needles many once angry porcupine attacking hands darted rubbing temples ease stabbings skull remembered alone reaction locked forehead pained imagined seconds hushed blood drain mean created plenty racket shrieks squeals giggles plus sixty individual chattering away gasped solved earlier everyone boy’s distinct accented speaking totally completely silent possible whispered widened moved whisper telepath flinched skin itch gave can’t believe backed exit reveal total stranger okay holding sort wild animal calm afraid froze my name’s fitz added stepping name searching sign part joke joking thinking wobbled spent seven find someone else world tilted sideways steady here looking twelve we better question: want air jerked bolted door stumbling shaky legs rhythm sucked breaths ran down stairs burned lungs bits ash flew ignored wanted space strange come shouted picked pace raced courtyard base steps wide fountain grassy knolls sidewalk got inside because poor quality footsteps gaining wait pouring energy sprint fighting urge glance shoulder halfway crosswalk sound screeching tires reminded both ways terrified driver struggling stop car plowed right die second blur swerved missing inches jumped curb sideswiped streetlight heavy steel lantern cracked plummeted instincts hand shot pulling strength somewhere deep gut pushing fingertips force collide falling gripping extension arm dust settled floated feel weighed ton put familiar warned bringing trance shrieked dropped without hurtled watch yanking split crashed ground impact knocked tumbled body broke fall landed chest stretched flurry questions swirling coherent idea sat replaying sense need witnessed miracle tighten panic let’s overwhelmed plan resist street reached intersection north zoo where crowd during firestorm running missed hearing changed terrifying scenarios involved government agents throwing dark vans experiments watched road ready bolt anything suspicious zoo’s massive parking lot relaxed outside milling cars happen witnesses slowed walk breath promise sincere easier opened hesitated supposed am trust won’t considered father sent specific age observe report always talk frowned disappointed himself does means expected threw what’s wrong touched eyelids suddenly selfconscious figured again awe us stopped whoa hang ‘one us’ frowning spotted fanny-pack-wearing within earshot deserted corner ducking green minivan there’s easy we’re human stunned speak hysterical laugh escaped repeated shaking riiiiiight insane trusting kicked stomped telling truth minute last listen plea humans vanished gone reeling leaned argued taking clear set pole minutes ago almost three managed finally saying alien erupted laugher cheeks grew hot also relieved compose elf hung foreign object belong visions tights pointy ears danced giggling expect guess stick wavy spikes rock star good crazy agreed refused serious frodo ring save middle-earth toys hid corners showed oh ought folded slender silver wand intricate carvings etched sides tip round crystal sparkled sunlight magic asking rolled actually pathfinder spun latch top dangerous you’ll faded depends take concentrate matter happens proof prove whisk land curious harm someone’s willed palms sweat fingers laced stupid tingled everywhere scanning warning look scowled bit tongue concentrated racing seriously become those silly girls counted raising facet beam refracted tightened grip forward warm tingling million feathers swelling underneath tickling giggle melted goo keeping oozing blanket warmth wrapped faster blink eye might squeaked stood edge glassy river lined impossibly trees fanning emerald leaves among puffy clouds row castles walt disney throw rocks kingdom golden path led sprawling elaborate domed buildings built brick-size jewels each structure color snowcapped mountains surrounded lush valley crisp cool
cinnamon chocolate sunshine places exist less appear forgotten released realized hard squeezing unable castle towers oddly our capital call eternalia heard shangri-la lost cities you’d stories rarely ridiculous things elves burst quiet gentle breeze brushing soft murmur traffic hammering unspoken very silence rising tiptoes view streets ghost town building towered others stones emeralds banner flying tribunal progress everyone’s watching proceedings council basically royalty holds broken law they’re deal laws well shook wrap cringing question funniest glared funny regained control try cling remaining strands sanity sun casting ray onto leaping hitched ride headed impossible infinite travel haven’t theory relativity stumped dumbest i’ve albert einstein huh dumb argue confident unnerving harder waited feather sensation dryer scattering directions until rubber band later shivering ocean whipping glowed carved moonlight failed passed bring herself true science book read confused observed ‘hey learned smug grin best minds begin comprehend complexities reality elves’ ahead slowest trump proper education shoulders sagged sank four scenery blurred whether tears entire lie nudged hey fault believed taught i’d done works bells chimed large gateway floor-length velvet capes draped tunics emerged followed creatures marching military formation rocky pants muscles prominently flat noses coarse gray pleated folds armadillo goblins signed treaty hating trembling dressed forbidden lumenaria worlds gnomes dwarves ogres trolls mentioning focused motioned farther squatting betrayed ancient councillors intelligent rule planning war ancients violence disappeared forbid any contact devices working defend race famine problems chilled frigid wind licking who’d known must’ve after eventually evolved myths simple yes peeked glowing crucial identity clicked spinning thousand loud clang gate stepped shadows sleek cobalt home jolted mom bus bland boring stole incredible blinding swept smoky fresh surprised recognized plain square houses narrow tree-lined house ask lived coughed handle putting pollutes planet these aren’t normal chemical smells usually wildfires smell barbecue melting cotton candy burn rain arsonists admitted pocket hoping notice dad wants knows neither important meant mystery he’s happy careful please shown today thank act family doesn’t suspect squared courage telepaths special ability rarer ones thirteen six months corrected liking youngest manifest start reverberated scanned positive waking hospital moment forget hooked kinds machines hovering shouting barely separate hold happening group adults haunted worry brows narrowed doing extra private keep wall weak hated bossed answering concerned action worked imagining stretching shadow mine blurted pale process hardest worries live fumbled answers long trouble knees link amazing will tomorrow panicked battered cluttered living phone she’s receiver having reeled daggers calling wandering worried police sorry stammered convincing horrible liar scared mom’s anger concern nervously curly guy realizing lies based freaking walked trolley train teacher guard ugh complained closing adult rubbed wrinkle appeared stressed upset safe stand weirdo understood dangers teased tormented bullied deflate wish trailed close rest sister slipped pin painful tight hug welcome honey dinner ten amy upstairs kitchen unease twist stomach worn linoleum pastel tacky knickknacks ordinary glittering kissed cheek shabby briefcase table how’s soybean wink baby apparently pronouncing thousands times lid simmering pots garlic cream filled handed silverware turn crackin’ scooted plopped usual chair nine role mastered opposite lower average grades popularity sisters wondered definitely powers lowered breathing: inhale exhale repeat care nickname dizzy must lay should eat skipping acting fettuccine night favorite rich sauce sudden nausea tug eyelashes chewed bite swallow fork official thanks great homework sprinted bed hiss shattered marty pounding fluffy cat sitting tail slunk settling lap marty’s purring
confront downstairs settle explained blonde chubby brunette screamed throbbed deeper ripped apart blinked related change lots adopted poked brought e l fudges plate cookies milk getting sick palm fever tired cookie stumbled routine crawled blankets wrapping pillow dreams kissing tucked tradition breathe ella yep elephant stuffed sleep tonight um guys hugged tighter hours labor endured switched birth daughter doubt wondering anymore dreamed keebler perfected recipes liked oreos drown vat fudge woke overrated morning quick shower jeans shirt buttery yellow stripes item closet self-conscious wear gold flecks admit clipped toyed lip gloss snuck check crept yard blinking stuck contained next-door neighbor perch middle lawn forkle rearranging garden tableaux nosy checking effect beady bored hers loved sentences complaining 911 obligated gnome fraction inch gives headaches yapping interrupted ball fur streaked barking spandex jogging shorts chased grabbing dog leash clumsy lunge kneeled stroking wild-eyed panting creature drew growled strained mad sister’s hates displaying several halfmoon wounds bleeding scar suppose willing carry blocks seems winked piercing certainly yelled jogger guy’s louder chaos wonder grab drag should’ve trick react stopping tracks side man straightened height quite intimidating ordered glowered promised snorted grumbling moving explaining whenever appearance waiting incident eyewitnesses frustrating confusing bell rang lurking scream demanded loudly heads bad flashing cocky rush blush unanswered tries creepy snatch slow replayed scene remember growling forkle’s quietly quieter we’ll we’d eyeing suspected impending mischief leap english ditch yesterday strangle pull disappearing fail willingly use telepathy brushed whispering pushed further test tested permission assignment frustrated matters invading offense scrunch nod movement nearby oak drowned could’ve sworn jogger’s campus gestured tree either imagine adjusted shouldn’t anyway who’s committee sidelong heat breaking automatically furious enjoyed caused determines grinned future shield surveyed surroundings metal nearly everglen leading doors absorbs directly likes privacy stressful doubted king kong faint click swung inward striking clearing growing midnight cape fastened clasp diamond-encrusted wings lean vibrant resemblance alden introduced bow curtsy shake greet shy pleasure prominent kidding unusual flush smiled embarrassed fire alden’s injury muttered son shared kidnapping considering such might’ve paranoid has touch rude assure love kidnapper searched reassure kindness agree placed gently jacket ticked indeed fascinating sounding triumphant perfectly specifically nexus forgot covered dug cuff coat clamped bracelet wrist twisting fit snug comfortable accessory single jewel rectangle symbols letters spelled gibberish odd decorate finality safety precaution break particles carried concentration circumstances bare early fools overestimate skills fade cautious answered lose yourself able fully reform pulls forever goose bumps dimple cleared throat prefer reproving send mission collect long-lost guests wiped blooming red pink purple rainbow perfume flowers dizzying testing qualify foxfire paused fungus insulted prestigious academy named represents glow darkened comes ‘fungus’ strongest talent kiss goodbye excuse proud attend accomplishment earliest levels develops abilities continue studies elvin sneak work knowingly chills mixed night’s troubling revelation sickening councillor bronte difficult impress feels upbringing lack disqualify surprises existed miffed votes squat brown-skinned huge tended fairy tale plants slantways shuffled carrying basket twinkling fruit guessing pictured men hats statues servants stare choose safer gardens enjoy privileged taste gnomish produce lunch treat dig slimy tubers slugs hoped menu peeled meadow elegant manor entirely intricately numerous turrets gables rose tower resembled lighthouse braided foyer prism widest hallway fountains spouted streams colored water hall dead-ended encrusted jeweled mosaic
diamond unicorns amethyst spoke wealth squeezed formal dining sheer silk curtains drawing chandelier waterfall shimmering crystals platters fancy goblets figures jewel-encrusted circlets plush thronelike chairs surrounding curtsied necks clasps keys horribly underdressed fabrics except disguise kenric oralie football player toothy princess rosy ringlets met smallest cropped features finger pairs floor laughter squirmed joined pleased shape it’ll transformed noticing autorepeat: scooting oralie’s one’s died yet hurt immortal trace sorrow bodies aging reach adulthood wrinkles belongs yourselves guest uncovered grimace strips glop goop tasted juiciest cheeseburger stuff mashed carnissa root umber leaf tastes chicken animals tone ate toxic waste squirming grimaced vegetarians horror vegetables cheeseburgers tells swallowed mouthful thud discussing openly respond kenric’s jaws dry remembering warnings stay begun eight pass mentioned learn relax bronte’s icy gust common announced jaw flushing chagrined incredulous impenetrable key sentence ‘almost breached guilt conscience sounds infallible thinks likely exceptionally lift weight telekinesis recovering embarrassment shrank goblet accident raised lifting invisible scoffed unimpressed limitations unlike physical confidence clue giving blew pretending imaginary extend sharper worth saucers applauded excellent praise couple glasses determined stronger ounce core empty collective gasp including breathed celebrate cramped strain knocking thunderous collision open-mouthed shock hollered sealed clapped language guys’ enlightened leaped instinctive interesting babbling teasing noisy gripped ‘soybean’ mispronouncing blushed chuckled beside dusting waved insisted sighed suldreen stretch line rare species bird puzzle solve uncomfortable coincidence convince decision barked shoving moonlarks vote otherwise fight favor final fragile lovely empath emotions extended grasped delicate fear confusion sincerity describe azure settles revisited till adjust invoke demand probe planned arranged quinlin busy decipher fun training looks iffy ‘bothered’ dad’s reluctant emptiness exploded choked saving colder implications ditched stall punishment atlantis nowhere patch white-capped waves signs seagulls screech poop hardly continent tide pool triangular slip slick shoes match gown begged status noble members nobility offices empire waist beaded neckline dress costume seeing clothes: tunic embroidery edges pockets sewn sleeves exact size sit boots completed thankfully knowing biana comparison changing subject ledge engineered catastrophe compartment revealing bottles label bottle whirlpool uncorked flung blast whipped faces roar churning ladies suggested worse gulped maelstrom beneath salty sprayed jump push count dignity drowning flailing idiot formed tunnel dipping weaving craziest waterslide starting launched vortex sponge licked toe pack kittens minus kitten sprang cushion smoothed wet incoming rocketed slightly squishy packed sand gleaming metropolis dome beyond soared skyline bathing radiating spires network canals interconnected arched bridges pictures venice modern clean despite bottom underwater muted hum background seashell ear build stores power precisely amount changes plated reflect firelight illuminate sink wandered shops renaissance fair women’s gowns shifted advertised two-for-one specials bottled lightning fast approval spyball applications strolled hybrid chicken-lizard invented main canal hailed carriages floating almond-shaped boat rows high-backed benches elbow-length steered bench reins skimming surface eight-foot-long scorpion deadly pincers reared curled sting eurypterid stroked shiny shell eurypterid’s slice emitting low hissing petted harmless carriage quinlin’s yours fiber mutant insect doom probed gritted pressing hideous sonden’s office thrashed heebie-jeebies commute while secure needs protection file highly classified business district windows tracing bearing names treasury registry interspeciesial services unreadable random strings runes nonsense writing
alphabet clueless chin jumble nah affected gap kid option country tests dropping member broad kelp ornamentation precise read: sonden: chief mentalist cube swiped elbow ping assurances humiliating bypassed receptionist dim damp stone desk dark-skinned chin-length seat ceremony unique understatement squirm handing lick dna unsanitary tiniest hologram center: rotating unearthly breathing prentice sacrificed double helixes sacrifice reasons fears hundred seventy-eight murmured began pacing invaded she’ll greatest keeper older midstep record share trained charge protecting currently hidden karaoke game sing off-key notes clearly eavesdropping strip slid winding stairway climbed oval footage brush projected chill aerial southern california lines circle area images deepened valleys ruled reflections note interrupting communicate waving warn turning overreacting glancing shuddered desperate kidnapper’s threatened easily implied nameless faceless entity quickly threatening authorities would’ve shivered accelerant chemicals leads lighting spilling oil blowing investigate council’s position here: takes visit babysitter decent equally spying steam secrecy existence discovered hoax search updated slight bypassing distracted evillooking matches keepers lagoon glint shimmery dunes lake west shore statue topped hollow iridescent film shimmered loop apparatus resemble bubble lifted clung shrieking levitate forming touching bubble’s rumble coming geyser shoot eleven crash below bobbed where’s scary pure joy popped whisked glaring gates flash strode olive contrast youth shone nerve summoning personal shorter intimidated difference sooner exiled clench fists backward tiergan aware opinion summoned convinced tiergan’s fierce crumbled crossing expert inventory widening whatever foxfire’s newest mentor puppy officially weirding becomes provide retired given persuaded return resentment mixture surprise hone assistance reasonable restrictions pretend opportunity silencing bet terrible mood mumbling mostly irresponsible manage choice benefit stares notify dame alina returning kept bruise meantime session listed remedial schedule lessons dummies correct assumption warmed tuesday brilliant panel everglen’s grounds sessions study student subjects one-on-one nerves one-onone succeed mention level grade relearning self-doubt heavier fragmented disappear explanation aside pleasant dis arguing overstuffed armchairs woman squealed snickered wife della pinched gesturing dear vanishers smiling musical hint della’s beauty tossed pursed heart-shaped parents’ combined gangly troll interceded borrow errands frumpy files requested denied request approve grady edaline case torn radiant parcels strobe unwrapped packages clasped cord neck choker pendant elf-y anytime fund’s activated fund register money standard dollars lusters laughing luster dollar crinkled ew insult afford differently limited seventy eighty makes sad curved window overlooking silvery floor-to-ceiling aquarium wingback facing piled books scrolls anxiety remind stacks newspapers circled crossed news removed drawer theories irritation super stuttered discuss faced solution allow ours they’ve effective immediately too-simple accept kick constant discovery longer unbearable loneliness friends grasping overwhelm areas access severely restricted dead deciding gravestones became vivid: grave tearstained draw suffer struck complicated relocated jobs erase tear obvious believing shutting function erased armchair scrubbed forbade sob occurred risking twenty alert plans clothes sees wiping focus bent unshed horrors cringed buried trembled bouncing busted eavesdrop grounded hugging worrying pouted pettiness bratty obnoxious pain-in-the-butt embrace struggles play daughters mouths senses hook hurry daze rememorize room: dusty available quilt mother tripped furry crouching releasing pathetic meow disk sleeping gas release drugging physically ill backpack slung giggled elizabeth clutching anywhere couch fingered ordering thirty crumpled burying recognize crouched smearing drool snot drugged sobs
overcame jerk washers bags regret bear slept finish hawaiian family’s limp determination taken fourteen cried assured stranglehold haunting gets hope personally oversee relocation flared wrung guardians title selected enthusiasm strangers elwin’s blue-crystaled temptation shiver raked bones orphan conservatory lead backyard security choosing saved ache suffering gift raise ended abandoned wipe elwin physician medical hate doctors brave regular nightmares brief stays struggled dragging direction drop free implying biana’s glare escape punch bathed gigantic glued cushioned cot syringe goes fidget spectacles scientist snapped painless orb flasher manipulate skilled orem vacker show eclipse biggest celebrations traditions damage permanent tensed food chance innocent cells dashing depending orbs squinting lenses stunningly lit dramatic expecting toxins research rifled satchel vials liquids major detox braced medicine syrups nectar unknown fruits tingly drink youth legends enzymes essential health refreshing downed contents gulp drank medicines list follow-up checkup whistled sometimes heated lame stinky stegosaurus shame horrified production wimp doctor phobia jumping needle strap bunch shots allergic how’d concrete nine-one-one unconscious genes kicking trigger bedroom canopied chandeliers room’s gotten deserve ruined chanting mantra shut pajamas tuck asleep belonging alive twenty-five catch breakfast clock shop furniture detoxes materializing clutched ghostly exotic heartbreaker fitted glamorous shopping explosion behold wardrobe outfits extras pick beat-up sparkly casual packing leaked days unpack hungry knotted sadly dampened preserve havenfield exciting jolie deny loss wonderful booming fenced-in pastures spread scrambled versions rehabilitation centers sanctuary protected trap nessie artist endangered gorillas lions mammoths extinct thriving herd woolly colonies saber-toothed tigers slack exists rob qualities provides thrive feeding hunt diet steep cliffs caves flower-lined using ropes lasso lizard neon beast protest drama queen husky male commanded beast’s heave feat twice snaarrll bucked guardian lunged tangled writhed losing balance verdi tyrannosaurus comments meeting jaculus winged serpent feeds support contain bloodsucking snake claws snout tremble lowering fangs glinted slobber motioning glimpse dinosaur-riding chiseled feather-covered james bond robin hood balding relate handsome feathery banged pet rub rex’s stayed docile unblinking separated verdi’s wound plugged slime death rot tuna fish combination kelpie dung bites jar swear edaline’s grady’s wary compared palatial estate mansion standards columns cupola roof entryway central upper floors cascaded ceiling wispy fabric turquoise amber curls similar circles fluff presentable rex picking playing rodeo cowboy nope wash staircase sadness lingered tea mallowmelt insist gooey cake fresh-baked chip soaked ice frosting butterscotch dripping hasty slices served nook grazing linens painted china homesick woken lushberry juice pop possessed conjurer form teleporting objects coolest unfortunately scraggly slurps burps letting friend’s ached grieve fished imparter simply strangled pounded reassuring deafening third star-shaped dangled glittery weaved carpet scent canopy occupied dressing bookshelves brightly volumes bathroom bathtub swimming biting awesome assumed jolie’s tour awkward delicious soupy pizza unpacking wrinkled scrapbook wherever welled remnants dried sixteen sunrise streaks blending mirror darken awake finishing hovered doorway interrupt riser shades clap bruises conjured bowl spoon banana bread tempted impose sloppy handwriting upside symbol corner: bird’s beak tickled babble scare extremely documents cipher moisture particularly believable prescribed drawn eager fidgeting ruffles simplest bought hi kesler groaned island mysterium identical mold vendors spices sweets buzzed crowded sidewalks working-class social rank ‘talent simpler correspondingly unfair born lesser lives type designed village avoiding whispers ruewen pretended different
store crooked nursery rhyme burps: merry apothecary belched maze shelves pills laboratory beakers bubbling burners rainbow-colored lab skinny tousled strawberry periwinkle blob tubes add amarallitine dex tongs vial experiment poured beaker sparked plume dirty gag concoction exclaimed hello ‘hello impersonation sludge eda scrap sheet kesler’s brother-in-law nephew practically monday al freaks dimples burped beanpole hooded cloak vika annoyance handiwork written girl’s bald scalp meanwhile stina ’cause twitched battling sell solutions sasquatch dent bony appendages children throttle hairoids stock week wailed ogre wicked misses responsible friendly rage here’s spat helping customers potent hat flinch useless buy countered retort stina’s oooh slammed fist timkin heks helps situation traditional absolutely brings stuffy nobles happier grinning mess tweak supplies armful worktable sneaky beard dex’s evil mortar pestle teach tingle attempt fifty-seven solo property collapse practiced checked displayed sliver percent chose he’ll hawk mentors monitor weakness expelled pushes transferred exillium swallowing bile mounting attack messy juline riveted gossip interruption interest hilarious bookshelf mounted cover camera summer flipping pages naked mouse suit disneyland dizznee photos honestly movies outlets flipped technology solar powered rifling sir conley’s luck lady galvin highest rate rig calming flooded seventeen gadgets chimes arrive uniform skirt leggings shirt-vest-cape combo laceup jerkin long-sleeved slacks waist-length superhero captain blueberry rescue meaning order demonstrate rid wimpy halcyon mastodons mascot birds storm mastodon ceremonies costumes glad idiots appealing crest triangle heart: scarlet eagle soaring talons chemistry equipment theirs adopting adoption adopt temporary enrollment manticore themselves parties dies span cope calmed orphans wylie whose recover connection blames wylie’s hanging leapmaster 500 lucky authorized 250 tons rotated five-story pyramid sharply angled u stained seventh amphitheater extensive fields grass hopelessly prodigies uniforms building’s finding ducked starts orientation principal reads announcements attendance collar track peal close-up stunning porcelain caramel-colored foremost whoever reekrod weekend mark punished fullest extent threat dangle continued detect ah spotlight hissed viper’s nest ssssssophie hole crawl concludes today’s nearest exception divided wing banners bore midflight halls quad throughout sparkling sapphire chatted doorways lining atrium spectacle creating marked rune locker mirrored lock uses gross faculty picks flavors pepper sneeze croak yelped stench rotten eggs dash diaper muskog wheezy snicker whirled towering mass frizzy cackling hags stalking hairs shave earth serum friday retorted raven swishing behavior phasers ashamed apologize obviously spend detention alexine stinks beet minions kinda frog fumes catching jensi rapid-fire speech talked buckets redder instructed honest ‘human girl’ ‘sophie’ whim elementalism pride backtracked twists turns drops warped wooden session’s zapped ‘zapped’ thunderclap eighteen tray electrocuted quiver conley hitting fluted botched sending tornado tornadoes mastering elements entering foods series stalls court mall recognizable eaten tables cafeteria whom discourage joining verge perceptible message clear: focusing bigger jensi’s acne braces fairly slicked greasy ponytails drooled setting bang c’mon dude unison ‘e’ duh drooly volunteered singed universe daunting exaggerated messing ‘dude’ killing explode cough pixielike rescuing tossing petite balled braids suicide overeager marella mare nicknames obeyed enemies honored pucker licorice lemon fan prettypants rather grumpy brat brother’s dreamy willpower copying sip looped defending dizznees triplets says ‘bad match’ genetically incompatible inferior aunt uncle superstrange celebrities famous vackers superimportant marella’s sympathy grandma heartbroken helpless veins hopeless cases guarantee scooping mammoth shudder awful afternoon feared astronomical
learning astin whispery complex maps planetarium effortless excelled hour survived approaching dragon hateful invited feelings letters: extinguished stuffing fill animosity deck ‘nice uncanny royal highness bothers remembers talented ‘deck beaming nineteen thursday disaster goal sandwiched colosseum pe vanity near door: sneakers ponytail owned ship slap reply lasted compare redek squish may fool stops idle threats grouped twos tromps manifested fifty-fifty manifesting mysterious remark required variable reign terror ‘everyone’ impressive jolt supervise caton titan god informed channeling supereasy channel parts body: heights speeds normally unimpressive attempts threes bumped defense appetite startled spaceship unremarkable studying superintently snapping scraping probing concept unsettling establish forcing eighty-seven puckered brow assume cheerful scraped intended drained steadying suggest ethics attached meganeura exercise annoy fidgeted cocked wanna buzzing dived vulture-size dragonflies patted freaky-looking bug blown gargantuan proportions creepiest disco balls grown monster enclosure phys ed intense emergency weirdest part: proven trustworthy receive assignments lectured responsibility detecting discover elite avoided mesmer nauseated wow sheesh inflicting curiosity won causes dara lecture: pyramids tidal army hairy hollowing himalayas strangest mumble creeped exile interested dying supertalented fundamental guilty underground eternity ruin fluke churned abandoning illegal washer alter dump brother secluded sorted reminding effort flavored flumes spritzed shove disturbing failing smirked alchemy pupil encouraging cracking melody ominous ingredients trophies gilded items pointy-toed suspiciously midas milky liquid dancing rushing rustle red-brown updo hunter silky decorated patterns swished slightest alkahest universal solvent stored itself dissolves wood flesh taxes substance alchemist wise teaching masters tincture poultice basic serums yellowed box flask jars iron transmuting metals recipe formula labeled instructions fiddled rechecked mistakes plunged whip fizzed rumbled jelly galvin’s exquisite dissolved luxurious damaged salvage welt healing ma’am murder retrieve afterward muttering incompetence flunk sprawled hallways stark ditching keefe gulon disheveled untucked popular belva crush blame 90 certain paid accidentally cue epic alina’s ugly crying treated whiter phobia consisted rooms: treatment beds brewing physician’s paperwork slinky scurried bullhorn demented ferret banshee adorable fellow dramatically wanting seize mmm-hmm acid mimed effects destroyed salve measured whap wash present laughs clarification confirming twenty-one embellished version destruction joked bottling anwen multispeciesial 324 faxon metaphysics complimented requests brown-eye create overnight granted incredibly challenging explosions occurrence unlearn lifetime knowledge levitating rainbows constantly messed highlight skill effortlessly amazed unwanted transmit else’s psychic photograph needing patient plague suspicion snotty maruca i-hate-sophiefoster club reaching growl jealous prettiest bedlam subdue chasing rabbits antlers swinging trunk lump verminion pen boosted mammoth’s trumpeted earthshaking squeal ringing mound timid twig hiiiissssssssssss uncurled rodent bulging hamsters rottweiler-size hamsterzilla trample japanese hamster cooed snaarrrlll impressed chase steer dashed catches fifty stupidest clod mud nailed grooowwwwllll fatal flaw pinned grunted press snarling squeeze verminion’s unlocked assortment spewed whined pile gloves shed trade trudged oversize squirrels rats identify burlap sack quivering snarl steeled shriek batlike heaved wool scratches leg outbuildings carefully organized veterinarian’s laid sterile spreading limbs smeared eyedropper dripped creature’s rewarded squeaky rumbling crackly purr smiles cage barrel soapy chain-sawesque snores vibrating brattail tuber sausage imp guessed six-inch venomous stings snoring vicious describing tame yetis outnumbered conked chipper iggy strand swell
generous hugs touches gestures glistened dubious trails twenty-two sharing congested warthog roommate snuggly sleepless spoil caring ultimate splotching championship sacks cheered sympathetic secretly celebrating partnered naturally teamed splotcher splattered loses winners person wins marks smugly win splotch splat deserved colorful prize contest pardon hopes wonderboy gagging rounds beat opponent knots backing aim ow raw telekinetic flushed compliment disqualifies pumped victory hotter cheering opponents experience duel beginner’s talents mighty competition grumblings battle odds experienced evidently four: sixes trella dempsey paired hopeful muster bested winner fluttered appears competitors betraying butt preference keefe’s chant ladies’ float clenched adrenaline surged audience back-up splotches rebound phenomenon weightless collided simultaneous fate collapsed twenty-three placing compress wincing muscle injured whermiwhahapped worse: laying banshees mortal danger stirred lucid winced stiff glands zinged collected rebounded bounce specialized hammered controls actual mix matched draining practice evenly awfully sidelines wobbling auditorium applause teensy annoyed copied blushing elbowing ribs tie protested declared excused lesson rejoin splotchers acted delivered p congratulations confirm bath lathering bathers soggy instinctively besides creased drive twenty-four meter one-third younger that’d wonderboy’s precious midterms score seventy-five recommend nissa tutoring consider tutor projection gagged flavor yell daily tore prattle chewy caramel peanut butter pouch cracker jack horse mane prattles’ unicorn pins collection examined digital 122 185 number eighty-five super-rare bitterness vaguely compute unexpected development century too-little-too-late branch other’s replaced beeline simultaneously sniff aw stuck-up snob wasted invite humiliate walking ambush capable teeniest details clanged cricket chirped embroidered satin sash wringing exhaled seeming makeovers wrestling polite fortunately braid flutter dirt pitter-patter eh sayin’ shooting quest grateful team jealousy guarded raid questers tagged sentry tabs isolate general nail targets listened softer instantly presence tremendous connected forest thundered vision racked credible crashing bushes partner deceive insists hasn’t secrets toes staying chain apologizing visitors sulking funk snipe wagged there’ve weekly jokes havenfield’s defied exams panicking passing guide narrowing shipped exam brass copper transmutations ideas challenges thwarted spilled gashrooms reek pored frozen cause shattering cheated accomplished cheat ideal dreading twenty-six tri-angular apex streamed pane angle reflection examining confessed forgave neutral violated ethical regulations expulsion suggesting argument ruling obey flourish bother violating reporting stifle closely icily respect authority advises wedding flapped nor pointless cheating tolerated huffed regrets confess serve minimum assigning becoming theme slipping unnoticed what’d gloomy atmosphere desks thumbs-up siren song appreciation art nature clapping earsplittingly shrill whine whale nails chalkboard toddler uncover broadening horizons claiming repentant company brand torture ballroom belva’s sirens dances edwardian claimed valin ponytailed promenade dancers valin’s sweaty chime stars shined brighter spit wickedly slobbery octaves fanned hmm irritated flattered scored points empathy forked smirk ironing holes stack detained increased practicing leaps eyebrow empaths powerful mundane purification vein easiest transmutation lockers traded twenty-seven banging annoyingly caps disqualified chorus groans nonstop cap smurf amalgam telepathic integrity wrote essay betrayal over debate automatic 100 last-minute mentally repeating tips negative vibes stress ethic claim fame skipped skip supportive doubting brag mercifully stalled magenta berries rusty discipline chosen purify ruckleberries fifty-five nasty impurities elderly human’s alchemists methods dive knife pierced berry dribbled pinky haggard glacial quarters
deducted mediocre performance forth whirlwind crack exhausted brutal slamming slumped that’ll public hooks presents spine cards schools hassle babysitters edged obstacle tugging stressing rigid suitable gifts jewelry charms charm twenty-eight unrecognizable streamers shrub toilet-papered tinsel confetti bubbles prizes popping appointment teal-wrapped package uglier hurrying plowing regain literally prying trademark smirks spoken sapphire-encrusted navy-blue intently hairstyle contrasted pristine infamous deflated wilted father’s oily insincerity resigned flame cassius lord performing unremarkably radiated apologies fos er disappointing scores fake critical said: creeps prize-filled prattles dwarf lollipop topple snappy comeback comment loser fails organize overflowing half-empty month misunderstanding shushed slim parcel chiming signaled parent-mentor conferences celebration feast unwrap snatching self ‘dear dance sometime vice president boyfriend rattled reader tease ribbon tapped gadget fingernail speaker thingies coloring dunno disbelief variety edible glosses speckled spider snapper plant fed spiders riddler writes riddle miniature violet thanked showing misty seventy-nine improvement range sensing tomato congratulated comfort sobbing partying included sneer party note: f snap k sugarplums boy-craziness necklace cuffs wristbands vanisher platter customs gelled perfection gym ornate immaculate alvar talks often rumpling fizzleberry wine juggling girlfriends hero beamed piddly quicksnuff emissaries tend conspiracy possibility myself pieced undivided swan’s curve pattern term replied active recently unauthorized investigation frustration twenty-nine alternate spending smelling clues accomplish consumed trapped counting resumed vacation finals received eighty-one eighty-three unacceptable prepared chorused poufy thrown towel drooped oven roasted frosters transmitting charts transmitted peed suffered rested cryokinetics freeze manipulating pyrokinesis mesmers inflictors monitored pyrokinetics inflict fire’s unpredictable truly forbidding pyrokinetic library surely three’s librarian banned archives libraries bust problem: section dire wolves peek promising bins mountain littered haphazardly spaces scan unrolled flip papers helpful lacy dulled childhood: strung lanyards dolls framed bone picture: breathtaking tragedy drinking leftover junk trunks piles unopened bin disturbed murky midterm roll scroll shelf sample starlight moonglade: fireflies flickering stellarscope upside-down spyglass view’s billions wad tag amaranthis memorized fourth lambentine bag spout wider scope knobs cluster dials stiffened lever thumb clinked rubini orroro azulejo cobretola indigeen scratching spectrum rearranged indigo zelenie isolated this’ll bluff scrounging elementine adjusting fidgety hummed shining teared welts frantic thirty-one blackish-purple blisters pot burns sprinkled powder adventure soaking numbs balm miserably regulate temperature palace crown nicer handful roots mutilating blades destroying bashing stubbornness reappeared ointment knelt furrowed fingertip rags longest hottest soapiest griffins discreetly boring-looking firecatching bode bundle solid downright incoherently darkly quintessence fifth element myth truest conditions blow metallic-toned bronze wildly flamed audible unmapped locations merit thirty-two platform thrones remotely procedure involving throne cushions tourmaline sturdy polished dotted onyx heard: clarette velia terik liora emery ramira darek noland zarina flicked mere evacuated three-thousand-year task undisclosed location trial salivating convict straighter dozen marched stationed bodyguards swordlike weapons belts fanfare blasted crowned amateurs seated sapphires shall world’s ungraceful consuming detector fuzzy lying endlessly jell-o hobbled astin’s honesty assigned emery’s argento auriferria pennisi merkariron styggis achromian slower plotting map cowering submit lists convenient judgment frightening hardened remained expressionless mediates telepathically consensus united aspirin unanimous
rise violates actions intentional accountable foster’s involvement addressing agreement millionth wished exchanged dimpling kiddo thirty-three banks sienna bark paintbrushes purfoliage palmae calls pures filter pollution freshest crispest tinge fuzzed hesitation observant instruction lurched sunset farthest councillors’ steadied emerald-encrusted circlet bowed pleasing honor beg refuse descryer response delightfully potential clamoring backfired speaks beginning optional 327 sensed crane sweeping peacock log dream softly regularly useful one-armed fiancé’s projecting vividly replace album dinner’s stroke retracted apology hurting tricks arches replica model thirty-four planted curl plotted page difficulties rivaled protect quieted los angeles hollywood trash conspicuous spider-man batman posed mann’s chinese theatre blended beams issued ‘forgot’ oblivious ourselves stubborn softened unwillingly seeped ‘got of’ ant pavement explore warring hurried consequences captured pleaded mercy prentice’s behalf oversaw shatters society metaphor insurgents rebellion kindest whatever’s decisions encouragement revelations ability-detecting exercises cornered superbusy insistent significant elf-ish onetime played envy tracked master tracking switch spots conspiracies investigating headway ignorance ever: permanently jarred conservation legitimate scientific principle nagging elixir nogginease limbium mineral supposedly resisted bike wheels giddy week’s supply unnaturally syrup absorb nauseating unfastening vest skin’s collapsing allergy dimmed cradling thirty-five fluttered chafed sandpaper wildhaired soothed sensations spectators cleaned vomit upright moaned allergies wits bullhorn’s trite soiled airtight vomiting swollen blotch-free humiliated undershirt noticeably absent dazzling alvar’s raptor disgusting decade spare injected steroids tied budge scolded showers heels crisis ushered deathly tough disasters blankly rests brothy soup elsewhere shadowy comforting yawn snuggled thirty-six squealing hundreds eagle-size pterodactyl somersaulted screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech stability rein speed momentum gained screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech torch pasture dispersed uncannily fried engulfed birdbath sparks jerking possess flareadon fire-resistant replay triggered animal’s cares octave higher killed resting flareadons volcanoes occur gildie strayed ‘flareadon female correcting wade debacle breaks wrestled socks shredded apparent vague emotion animals’ distances qualified lightened results defined iggy’s gildie’s paw tummy reward downy fury paled out-of-breath aura recoiling imperative vital violate risk humiliation fled her: cooperate freezing peered railing partial drifted bars errand thirty-seven mush nights begging blend processing forgetting tearing fluorescent locker: insider’s librarian’s timing shoe absolute librarians plastered sinking confirmed dog-ear chapter everblaze: unstoppable blind thirty-eight paper-strewn something’s ‘everblaze frissyn x stands detailed extinguish overruled excluded unheard indecision warred babies hatch extract unregistered code name: egg cast conventional purpose determine pregnant fertility posing implanted embryo manipulated outstanding retain discovering affects genetic anomaly renegades weapon ‘prodigy illegally forgiving messages suffocating choke word: controlled puppet issue triggers twilight proudly soothe facade crumble table: throaty fix drove wedge messenger delivering seal reseal rampaging limits chaise skimmed bead luminous nonluminous generated lumenite drilled clarify rip grubby paws riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip chunk possession skittered treasure retrieving tattered assess rug glue document accordance canceled thirty-nine heartbeat scrubbing choked-back muffle misery acknowledge gaping owe regardless charade obeying command churn yeti ricocheted ooooookaaaaaaay slinking acknowledging attempting library-appropriate slothlike triple-check echoing phew scrutiny shrug candleshade overhead clipping playlist jarring numbness bass mature speakers bands sarcastic tune swirled seeping cracks triumphed
tiptoed rustled creaked padding crawling lonely forgive forty cheer stricken envelope headline: claims victims scrawl announcement corridor stark-white gulps sneaking suggestions weigh resolve admirer flood applying replacement heal eased uncertainty brothers recent discoveries recording spy undetected textbook dreaded licensed pathfinders restriction threatens ‘everblaze’ accusation fintan pricked balefire fintan’s requires fuel supported cosmic ‘fire ignite conclusive example surveillance ruining depths former dealing approved overrule objection trusted phantom rebels snatched emissary citizen confidential duly noted digging forty-one partly imprisoned sorting reminders pity tension distant lately preparing prejudice megacrush cave commands successful method unwrapping names: connor kate natalie freeman apply permit huddled thinner echoes evacuee note’s unquenchable abandon supporter afar forty-two stashed drawers ‘you threaten chaperone global dumped significance supplied clothing resistant fly willful punish facets stagger hills screeched tying pried displays seals survival glinting corneas swoop thickest raspy coughs locate singeing shift current overcome coughing inferno ouch thrashing clouded watery beads capped treats paced treating scorched angrier contorted squatted pee severe scalding plunked sticky-sweet healthy grim balled-up yelling homes camped affairs mesmerized desperation launching steal dumping tenderness justified reacts offer unintelligible agreeing concerns forty-three relatively illness actress w-what admitting lifeless freaky dumber connections traitorous resisting grasp peace decency furball storm’s appropriate cliff reveling shard clatter soothing relishing pulverized smithereens boulder violent frightened irrational fallen possibly smothered meaty cloaked swooped sickeningly nostrils sedative cursed rallied scuffle scuttled captor circulation rasped viselike lolled rescued forty-four bonds staging unfortunate complication fog scrambling muddled funerals pendants vise sweetness blackness necessary loomed constricted heaving choking gruff hyperventilating suffocates coated hacking nods croaked relocate stolen grunt syllable drugs mist strapped bound shivers eerie breathy wheeze venom trail gumption predicament footfalls disposed disappearance guts throb ignorant cackle toy reserve widen contorting poison ple clarity struggle overwhelming happiness rocked jostling rescuer foggy occasionally elevator altitude delirium parted flimsy fumbling promises caress weary forty-five searing heightened awareness sensory overload barrage cigarette butts alley surveying hideout interrogation kidnappers scoured alexandre desperately operates anyone’s him: upcoming rounded apologized broom peeking roofs yards landmark eiffel gaped graceful paris france french indian saris currency exchange robbing bank machine atm watches account measures ‘make work’ cameras covering buttons alarm bills robbed technopath froster internet café sandwiches cheese once-living boxy computers navigated web browser googled number-one result pont iii bridge seine lanterns shopkeeper sped excitement decorations horizon lamp nexuses lasts mathematics applied dawn forty-six melder stun evening strolls cloaks leader obscurer bends distortion coil rope goons goon pathways underestimate wire enhanced wishful swirl severing rapid duck whizzed seizure dusted flailed gurgling blank forefinger crescent shaped jagged cowl stumble scarred heft frenzy hatred writhing strengthened pumping pulse heavyset figure’s hideouts options battering crushed nearing tug-of-war lessened allowing glorious drift fading surrendered mind’s imagination funeral weariness overtaking hazy snow labored conscious sparkle freedom sweep forty-seven brightness peaceful wove persisted appeal surge newfound pooled aches splintered clearer enveloped strawberry-blond-haired numbing sedated tingles luxuriating gulping wetness numb shhh sniffled recognizing propped girly seasons faltered proves meaningful floppy snickers emergencies conversations flirting scratch
blasts streaking injuries concentration’s cell half-drained gaunt fleeing canceling flitted nuzzling scratched there’d yawned lights forty-eight covers washed sandor goblin bodyguard inflictor paralysis semiconscious incapacitated dormant trauma latent polyglot languages advance interrogated sandor’s bunny seven-foot-tall buffed-out overtime blindfolded seared monitoring proved arrested custody awaiting deaths tragic innocence error motivate condemning madness reluctance single-handedly now’s crescent-shaped recalled epiphany overweight swells digest explains operative guarding subliminal advantage activate developed who’ll address database detectives arson reigned supreme wisest greater questioned decades measure influential amok globe rejected imprison devastated uprooted supporters initiative resign outspoken recruited activity satisfied handled poorly kidnapped prisoner resolved disposal stamped justice voiced revenge birthday birthdays indefinite spans thirteen-year-old crushes plots rebellions grown-ups understands teenager accepted bargain relented insisting uncertain responding arrange forty-nine pedestal charges bylaws sub-bylaws committed transgressions minor tortured regal express safely accused drafting addressed firmly murmurs debated arguments raging attitude disrespectful rebellious overlooked gratitude however static rulers experiences inappropriate assign ‘already served’ sang admission din bursting provisional basis due aforementioned cannot proceed suggestion issues seats smoothing occasion fancier signaling require records indicate provided remain appreciated despised gladly nicely dipped textbooks someday squash toughest earn deserves murderous successfully fingering justifiably displeasure smirking retake propose alternative state events revealed therefore practical prudent career prospects shifting internal logical volatile qualifies majority erupting directing registered cuddly earned oneon-one immediate tangle concluded gathered twirling nudging trades sidestepped congratulate surviving multiple tribunals swirls diamonds feminine unlatch decides woven triply journey
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private lessons ⋆｡°✩ chapter 1 ⟢
fluff, suggestive, smut in upcoming chapters
word count: 1,2k
warnings: aged up bada (she’s in her 30’s), age gap (reader is an adult!!!), very obvious power dynamics, dom!bada, student x teacher themes
author’s note: hello guys i am back with a series and i will try to update regularly, please be patient and give me some feedback. thank you and have fun reading! -booger 🍞
you knew it was wrong, and you knew your fantasies wouldn’t actually come to life, so why did it feel so thrilling? you look at yourself in the mirror as you’re smoothing over your clothes, exhaling shakily to mentally prepare yourself to meet up with your tutor. you seriously need to stop getting your hopes up.
you were an A+ student who never even had to study, acing your tests without any real effort. all you had to do was pay attention during class and you had nothing to worry about. so why exactly did you need a tutor? well… you see.. your teacher was temporarily gone for god knows what reasons, and you’ve gotten a substitute teacher for the time being.. and your grades dropped drastically, not because you suddenly stopped caring about school or because you missed classes, no no, quite the opposite.
the problem was your insanely attractive substitute teacher. Mrs. Lee… she was so tall.. so handsome.. so pretty.. and so strict. the second your eyes landed on her you knew you were done for. you felt so guilty for the emotions you yourself couldn’t even control, although you haven’t done or said anything wrong (yet). so why exactly were you feeling this way? oh right, having zero experience and drooling over your teacher who’s 10+ years older than you is probably a good enough reason. you and your twisted mind.
you had no issues in any other classes, being the nerd you were you quite enjoyed them. but as soon as the bell rang and she walked into the room, all your focus was on tall figure. oh how you wish she would tower over you- she was speaking but you couldn’t hear a word she was saying, just her voice. you didn’t see the notes she wrote on the blackboard, letters blending into the background. all you saw was her hands. as if you suddenly forgot to read, the veins on her large hands being much more interesting to study. the length of her fingers and the way she moved them had your mind flipping a switch. every word that left her mouth just flew past your head and all you could do was just stare with a blank stare, more like blank brain.. no thoughts head empty, just Mrs. Lee and your stupid imagination.
you didn’t see an issue in this, it was almost like a new hobby. patiently waiting for her class at the end of the day as if it were some kind of a reward. spacing out with the image of her right in front of you. damn, talk about inspiration. the issue was… you weren’t as smooth with concealing your so called innocent crush on her, which you failed to realize.
with the way you gulped each time she called your name or the way your cheeks turned red when she found out you’re spacing out and not playing attention once again, or the way your eyes would linger on her as she walked across the room, never leaving her for a second, as if they were glued to her.
it was all a bit too obvious to her. at first she found it funny, she was used to both men and women falling for her. however she wouldn’t have expected someone much younger then her to be so infatuated with her, especially to such a high level you were displaying, thinking you’re hiding it so well. reality was rather different. and quite frankly entertaining for her. especially you being her student, making it even more entertaining for her to watch.
you would of assumed she’d be married by now, there’s no doubt people are chasing her left and right, but she was actually not interested in settling down just yet, deciding to focus on her career and hope she finally meets the right person along the way. someone who she could be herself with… as in someone she could have complet control over. bada craved dominance, and while some people were into that, they were often caught off by the level of it that she desired. she wanted all of it. no, she needed all of it. it made her giggle, thinking your actions are cute and nothing more, she was your teacher for now after all. it’s not like you were underage or anything, but in her view it was simply unprofessional and inappropriate. not you basically eye fucking her every class she taught, but the fact that she enjoyed it much more then she wanted to admit.
she wanted to mess with you a little, play with your little brain and have some light hearted fun. not in a way where she uses you for a night and goes back to teaching you, she wouldn’t have the heart to do that, right? she just wanted to find a way that would entertain her for the time being. she loved teasing you and seeing your reactions, she found it cute how flustered she could get you just by pointing out your own behaviour. a part of her really did feel bad seeing your grades drop more and more, and it being indirectly her fault. if she wasn’t so dedicated to her work and didn’t take her time to learn all about the students she will be teaching temporarily, she wouldn’t have known you’re actually one of the top students. which is also why she was keeping an eye on you from the beginning, confusion clouding mind seeing you not match the expectations she’d set for you prior teaching you.
was there a mistake in the system? were those grades she’d seen not yours, perhaps someone with the same name as you…? she wondered after her first time teaching your class. the second time she’d notice you fidgeting and having trouble speaking when she asked you a question. hmm.. it must be anxiety, she thought. you did seem very nervous about her being your new teacher, maybe you were just this shy because you don’t know her, that’s all.
she realised all her theories were proven wrong as you spent the following days with flushed cheeks, eyes blinking up at her in concentration. looking away quickly as soon as she looked your way.
she thought she was partly responsible for this, so she was kind enough to offer you some tutoring sessions after school. when she told you to stay behind after dismissal and proposed the offer you panicked, just then realising how distracted you must of been during class for this to turn this bad.
you frantically shook your head not wanting to accept because 1) you didn’t want to be an inconvenience and waste her time due to failing and it being totally your fault. (the part you told her)
and 2) you’d definitely pass away being in the same room as her… all alone… in her house.. being much closer to you.. with her trying to explain to you what she said in class 200 times while you just drooled over her, as if it’s not going to be even harder for you to focus. ( that’s the part you didn’t tell her)
cat got your tongue when she assured you that it’s all okay and she would be more then happy to give you private lessons, and proud to see you do better. you swallowed hard as she asked for your number, arranging a meeting for the weekend, patting your head before she walked out telling you she can’t wait.
oh you’re screwed, so damn screwed.
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i’d beg you on my knees (to stay)
series masterlist • this is part V
pairing: Dave York x f!reader
word count: ~5.1k
summary: Dave opens up to you (somewhat). You have a good day and an even better evening. You just wish that you didn’t have so many feelings.
warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), angst, feelings, fluff (kinda), smoking, alcohol consumption, infidelity (Dave is cheating on his wife), able-bodied reader, Dave pulls her hair, dom!Dave, sub!reader, hints of a sir kink and a degradation kink, fingering, unprotected p in v (it’s never stated in the fic but i headcanon that reader is on birth control), dirty talk, Dave is a menace, praise kink, one (1) ass slap, idiots in love, please let me know if i missed anything!
a/n: shoutout to @amanitacowboy, who, when i shared my notes that said “cigarettes?”, responded with “cigarettes!”, so now there are cigarettes.
dividers by @saradika-graphics <3
find my full masterlist here and follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates <3
“No, I don’t want to leave.”
You release a breath that you didn’t realize you’ve been holding. “But, what’s going on? You can talk to me. Please, I want to h-“
He cuts you off sharply. “Don’t say that you want to help me. That’s not- you can’t-“
His voice cracks and he rolls onto his back, his hands rubbing over his face. You don’t think that you have ever seen him this vulnerable.
“But I do,” you insist. “Just tell me. You can trust me, I promise.”
He heaves a sigh, his eyes finding yours in the semi-darkness. You cautiously let your hand wander across his chest, trying to soothe him, but half expecting that he’ll push it away. Instead, his fingers wrap tightly around yours, pressing your palm down onto his skin, holding onto you.
“I know, sweetheart. It’s not- it’s not about that.” You can see the conflicting emotions run across his face, like he’s debating what to say, until he finally sighs again.
“There are things that I can’t tell you. Not because I don’t trust you, but because it’s not safe. Do you understand that?” You nod your head quickly and he gives you a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Okay. I don’t know how to explain this, but what I do, it’s- it’s dangerous. People that I know could get hurt, people that I…” he inhales sharply, “people that I care about. And last night in my dream, something happened to my daughters, and- and to you.”
He stumbles over his words, talking fast like he’s trying to get it all out as quickly as possible, his voice trembling, and you can’t help the way your heart breaks for him.
“Dave…” you whisper, your hands flying up to his face to comfort him, but he shakes his head and you bite your lip, falling silent again.
“I’m not good for you. I never should’ve taken you here, shit, I never should’ve taken you up to my room that night, back when… Something could happen to you and it would be my fault.”
The rational part of your brain tells you that this is the part where you should get scared, where you should start questioning your relationship with him for your own good. You believe every word that he says, you’ve felt the danger that’s surrounding him all along, even if he’s never admitted it this openly before. But instead, all you want to do is comfort him, wrap him in your arms until that pained look on his face and the shaking in his hands disappear. You want to tell him that you’ll make sure of it, that you’ll keep him safe, no matter how ridiculous that sounds.
You sit up and face him, noticing how his gaze follows you like he’s expecting you to get up and leave.
“Nothing’s gonna happen,” you whisper, looking straight into his eyes, trying to make him believe in your words. “Not to the girls, not to me. And not to you.”
He cups your face, his thumb smoothing over your cheek, as he looks at you, his expression tainted with sadness. “You don’t know that, sweetheart.” You cover his hand with yours, melting into the touch that you had been craving all day.
“But I know you. You don’t make mistakes. I trust you.”
You bend down to kiss him, swallowing your insecurities, praying that he’s done with shutting you out, praying that he’ll let you. You feel him hesitate for a brief moment before he tilts his head up to meet your mouth, his hand traveling from your cheek to your neck, holding you there as your lips softly move against the other's.
It feels like finding a piece of yourself that you didn’t know you’ve been missing, like things are finally sliding back into place the way they’re supposed to.
When you part from each other, a small smile is playing around his mouth like he can’t stop himself, his hand still on your neck and tangled in your hair, but not in the demanding way that you’re used to, but in a way that feels safe, like he’ll hold you close and not let you go.
You smile back at him and let your body sink down until you’re resting on his chest the way you have during the last few nights, until you can hear his heartbeat in your ear and feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
“Let’s just sleep, okay? We’ll figure it out. Let’s not…” You force your voice to remain steady. “…let’s not waste this time here.” He’s said that he doesn’t want to leave, and you believe him, but you’d be lying to yourself if there wasn’t a part of you that’s terrified that this trip is the last time that you’ll see him.
You feel Dave nod and press a kiss against your forehead and you can’t help the warmth that’s spreading through you. Maybe, just maybe, things will actually work out somehow. You haven’t addressed what you are to each other and you still can’t bring yourself to ask, but you like to think that he wouldn’t act like this if you didn’t mean something to him.
When you wake up the next morning, Dave is still asleep beside you. You study his handsome face, looking more peaceful and younger when he’s sleeping. It’s moments like these when you realize how tense he is most of the time, how often he clenches his jaw, how hard the look in his eyes gets.
You replay your conversation from last night in your head and despite the fact that you’re aware of how you should know better, you still don’t feel scared. At least not for yourself, not in the sense that you want to leave, to run away from him and the danger that he says comes with being close to him.
You’re… worried. About him. You had known that there was something dark about him, something that he could never fully shake off, no matter how hard you tried to help him, to let him release some of it. And no matter what he says, you know that you’re gonna keep on trying as long as he lets you.
You reach your hand out to touch his face, to glide your fingers softly over his jaw and the slight stubble there, tracing up his cheek until you reach his hair, disheveled from sleeping. You smile to yourself as you run your hand through it, lightly scratching his scalp and a low groan travels up his throat, his eyes blinking open slowly.
You had told yourself that things were good between the two of you again, but there’s a second of uncertainty in your head before his eyes find you and for a short moment you’re afraid that he might push you away again. A glimpse of tension flashes across his face as well, but when he takes in your smile and your hand in his hair, the corners of his mouth slowly turn upwards too.
“Hi,” you whisper, feeling like you might break the moment like bursting a bubble if you speak too loudly.
“Hey,” he answers, keeping his voice just as low. “Everything okay?”
You know what he means to ask but is probably scared to specify.
“Yes. Everything’s good,” you assure him, shifting your body to get closer to him until your head is resting on his chest once more. He starts drawing shapes on your arm and shoulder with his fingers, humming when goosebumps start to rise on your skin. You’re both quiet for a moment.
“You’re not… hurt?” he presses after a minute, with a hint of pain in his own voice. “I shouldn’t have… I didn’t take proper care of you yesterday. I’m sorry.” He exhales shakily and you gaze up at him, looking straight into his eyes, trying to convey your sincerity.
“It’s okay, I promise. I’m fine.”
He still looks unhappy, but nods eventually, pressing a kiss onto your forehead and pulling you into a hug.
You shower together, the warm water raining down on the both of you. Against your expectation, and while his hands are all over your body, working shampoo into your hair and soap onto your skin, his touch never turns sensual. You would have let it happen, you think, but it seems like he wants to make up for his lack of aftercare last night, taking care of you in this way now.
You enjoy it, being so close to him, a form of intimacy that you’ve rarely experienced with him before, if at all. It’s easy to let yourself fall into it, to let yourself imagine how it would be to always have him like this. His guard down, a touch of vulnerability still hanging in the air. You know that the last night has changed things between you, that you won’t be able to go back to pretending that there is nothing more than sex between you.
With this in mind, you almost get sad about the fact that you’re on borrowed time, that you’ll fly back home in a few days and that there’s no way that he’ll abandon his family to be with you. You don’t know if he even wants that. He’ll go back to his life and you’ll go back to yours and maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll be able to convince him to keep meeting with you. Just for fun. No matter what he said last night, realistically, that is how it’s gonna go.
You sigh and lean back against him, relishing in the hot water and his hands on your skin. You’ll deal with that when you get there. Right now, for a few more days, he’s yours.
After staying put all day yesterday, you decide to go exploring the area today. The receptionist recommends a hiking trail that leads you up one of the smaller mountains that surround the hotel.
The hike is beautiful, the air a little cooler underneath the treetops and the sunlight falling through the trees creates small patterns of light on the ground. The higher you get, the more you get to overlook the rich tones of green of the surrounding forest and the small bays where the mountains give way to the sea.
You’ve never traveled much before and definitely not to a place like this. Your eyes are wide as you take in the scenery around you and you’re beaming every time you look at Dave. He’s gorgeous, a thin layer of sweat covering his face and his bare arms that you could stare at for hours, and the smile that he gives you every time your eyes meet could make you melt.
You keep things light, chatting with him like you’ve gotten used to in the past few days, excitedly pointing out whenever a new part of your surroundings catches your interest. It’s so easy to be with him like this. You don’t want it to end.
When you reach the mountaintop, you throw your arms around him and eagerly press your lips against his. His surprised huff makes you smile into the kiss.
“Thank you for taking me here,” you whisper against his mouth when you finally break the kiss. You take in the clear blue sky, the soft breeze that’s playing in your hair, now that you’re higher up and out of the trees, and the sound of the rolling waves deep below you that you can still make out. It almost feels too perfect to be true.
Dave shakes his head, as if to remind you that you don’t have to thank him, that you deserve it, like he’s already told you countless times. He’s looking around too, but his gaze keeps drifting back to your face, his smile deepening when you look back at him. He looks so beautiful like this, you think, the lines around his eyes deepening and his expression at ease.
No matter what happens, this is the version of him that you want to carry around in your memories forever.
He takes you out to dinner again this evening, insisting that you deserve the whole experience and ordering another meal that is one of the most delicious things that you’ve ever tasted. You’re gonna miss this place when you’re back home and cooking pasta in your tiny kitchen, you know that much.
You think back to your first evening here, a memory that feels like it happened a lifetime ago. His hands on your skin, his dirty words in your ear. The rush that you felt when he pushed your limits. Things between you were less intense then, you think, almost solely based on the physical parts of your relationship.
You had a crush on him, yes, but looking back, you don’t think that you knew him, not really. You’re not sure if he wanted this to happen, but he opened up to you during the past days, letting you in in a way that he didn’t before.
When you’re entering your suite again, you almost expect him to pounce on you the way he did every evening before. Instead, he leads you out to the balcony, pulls out a chair for you and brings another bottle of wine from the minibar.
That’s how you end up on the chair where you had your breakfast two days ago, when things still felt much… easier. You’re sharing the wine, drinking straight from the bottle and trading it back and forth between you, your feet are resting in Dave’s lap and he pulled out a packet of cigarettes five minutes ago, causing you to burst out laughing.
“What’s this? You of all people smoke?”
He rolled his eyes at you and wordlessly offered you a cigarette, which you eagerly accepted. You don’t smoke regularly (and neither does Dave, as he’s quick to let you know, only to take the edge off sometimes), but in this situation, it feels nice. Now you’re both blowing smoke out into the air and watching as the sun slowly sinks beneath the ocean’s surface, painting the sky and its reflection on the water orange.
You’re both tipsy, you feel like you’re giggling uncontrollably and Dave’s deep laughter comes much more easily as well. It’s nice, having your energies match like this and for the millionth time, you think that you could get used to being with him like this. Carefree, unhurried, just spending time together.
Eventually, he gently puts your feet back on the ground and stands up, gathering your hands in his and pulling you up as well. You stumble into him, another giggle on your lips. His arms encircle you and his broad hands splay over your back, pressing you against his body. His lips find yours, moving against your mouth with heated urgency.
You wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling into the short hair and trying to pull him closer. His hands move to your hips, bunching up the fabric of your dress as he’s pawing at your body, his lips still pressing against yours. You move back inside, still wrapped up in each other, tripping over each other's feet and laughing into the kiss.
A feeling of warmth is spreading from your chest through your whole body, mixing with the familiar feeling of need that always rises up in you when he touches you like this. It grows and intensifies until you feel like you’re ablaze with longing for him, like you can’t possibly get close enough to him, like you want him just like this, right here, for forever.
“Dave…” you whine, one hand still desperately pulling at his hair while the other is moving down his torso until your fingers slip under his shirt and you’re met with the exhilarating feeling of his bare skin under your fingertips.
He groans as you slowly scratch your nails over his abdomen, feeling his muscles twitch at the sensation and his grip on your body becomes more demanding, maneuvering you until the back of your knees hits the bed. Dave pushes you down and follows you, caging you in with his arms propped up on either side of you. He’s still kissing you, his tongue licking into your mouth and eliciting soft moans from your throat as he starts toying with your nipple with one hand, flicking against the quickly hardening nub through the thin fabric of your dress.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs, pulling back a little and taking in your appearance, your swollen lips and the arousal that you know must be burning in your eyes. His intense gaze makes you feel shy and you tilt your face away from him a little, but he tuts at you, grabbing your chin and turning your head until you’re looking straight at him again.
“You look at me when I speak to you” he chastises you, his voice still nothing more than a smooth whisper.
“S-sorry, sir.”
The short display of dominance is enough for you to reach a new level of neediness for him and you’re acutely aware of the already obscene amount of wetness that’s gathering between your thighs.
A frown flies across his face and he seems lost in thought for a second.
“We’ll skip the ‘sir’ tonight,” he decides, a look that you can’t place flashing over his features.
You’re surprised, but not in a bad way. Warmth is spreading through you once more as you nod and raise your head to capture his lips again. His tongue is ravishing your mouth and his hands become more demanding, pushing your dress up until the fabric is pooling around your belly and your lacy underwear is revealed to him.
He sits back on his haunches and his hips force your legs apart, his fingers pressing into your thighs and you know that you can see how soaked you already are, how your panties are wet and sticking to your folds. He inhales sharply as his fingers inch closer to where you want them the most and his gaze is trained intently on your aching cunt.
He teasingly runs one finger over the fabric, giving your clit the lightest bit of pressure and your hips buck under his touch, desperately seeking out more contact.
“Always so responsive…” he murmurs, a smirk on his face, “and so goddamn needy.”
“Please, s- Dave,” you whine, his name feeling weird on your tongue in this setting, but you like it. It’s intimate, less like a game, more… real. Like he’s actually yours.
His eyes darken when you say his name, a possessiveness in his gaze when he looks at you. Like he feels it too.
“Please, what?”
He raises an eyebrow, his finger still rubbing over your panties while his other hand is planted on your hips, holding you down.
“Please touch me,” you whimper, squirming under him. He purses his lips, clearly mocking you.
“But I am touching you.”
“M-more, please.”
You’re already breathless, your mind overtaken with need for him. You reach your hands out, trying to pull him closer, to press his fingers against you, to give you anything. He leans forward again, propping himself up so that his face is hovering over yours.
“You want my fingers?” he rasps. You nod, another whine stuck in your throat. “Beg me. Say my name again.”
“Please, Dave. I need your fingers inside of me, please please please.” Your voice comes out shaky and too high, but you don’t care how pathetic you sound anymore, you just need him.
“Good girl,” he growls. Then his mouth is back on yours with a bruising kiss and he shoves your panties to the side, plunging two thick fingers into your tight heat without preamble. You gasp out something between a wail and a moan at the sudden stretch and he chuckles darkly.
He starts pumping his fingers into you, pulling back so that he can look at your face. More moans are falling from your lips, your back arching at the pleasure of his touch. You manage a breathless thank you and get rewarded with his mouth on your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin there while his fingers slow down and he starts curling them instead, hitting your g-spot again and again while his thumb swipes over your clit. You feel close to coming already, your nails helplessly digging into his shoulders as heat spreads through you, the pressure in your lower tummy pulling tighter and tighter.
“Can I- please, can I come, Dave?” you plead, not sure if you could hold it back if he says no.
“Yeah baby, you can come as many times as you want,” he breathes against your neck. “Looking so beautiful like this, you’re so good.”
The praise is what pushes you over the edge. You’re clinging to him as your walls contract around his fingers and your back arches higher. He gently works you through your orgasm, his fingers moving inside you until you squirm away from the overstimulation and he pulls them out.
You watch with hooded eyes as he brings them up to his mouth and starts sucking them clean, a low moan rising in his throat at your taste. You reach for them almost subconsciously and he chuckles.
“You want a taste?”
You nod quickly and start licking eagerly when he presents them to you, humming at the familiar tang of you and the thought that you’re also cleaning his saliva from his fingers right now.
“Good girl,” he coos again. His pupils are blown wide and you see the hunger in his eyes that you’re used to, but none of the usual cold and darkness.
Before you can linger on the thought, he works on pulling your dress over your head, leaving you bare underneath him except for your panties. He rarely lets you undress him, likes to play with the power imbalance of having you naked in front of him while he’s still fully dressed, but tonight, you feel like things are different.
You push yourself up into a sitting position and cautiously reach your fingers out towards the buttons of his shirt, looking at him with the silent question in your eyes. He gives you a nod and a soft smile and you almost melt into the mattress. You love when he’s rough with you, but this gentleness tugs at your heartstrings in a way that you’ve never experienced before.
You work the buttons open slowly, revealing the expanse of his chest, more tanned now after days in the sun. Your mouth waters at the sight of him and you lean forward to press your lips against his skin, inhaling his scent mixed with the lingering cigarette smoke and sighing softly.
“I-“ you begin saying, before your brain catches up with your mouth and you snap it shut quickly. You’ve never even allowed yourself to think those words when it comes to him, and now you’ve almost said them out loud. You feel heat rising in your cheeks and bury your face in the warm skin between his neck and his shoulder. You don’t love him. You don’t. You can’t. You’re just emotional because this situation right now is so different to what you’re used to. You don’t love him.
You take a deep breath and look up at him. “You’re beautiful,” you say instead, and you mean it. If he noticed your almost slip up, he doesn’t let it show. He shakes his head and laughs, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you against his chest.
“That’s you, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your hair. You lean into him for a few moments, trying to get your emotions back on track.
Then you keep unbuttoning his shirt, letting him help you to pull it off his shoulders and watching as he flings it into a corner of the room. Your hands roam over his shoulders, taking in his broadness, the silent strength that you know he possesses. You don’t think that you’ll ever get tired of just looking at him, but your fingers skim over the bulge in his pants and your body is screaming at you for more.
You watch him undo his belt and pants and impatiently slide your hand under his waistband, eager to feel the silken skin of his cock under your fingers. He inhales sharply when you wrap your hand around him, mesmerized by his hardness that you can’t wait to feel inside of you.
“Take these off? Please?” you ask, motioning to his pants and he gets up quickly, not even scolding you for your boldness but ridding himself of his clothes in a swift motion. You drink him in hungrily, his narrow hips and his hard cock that’s already leaking precum and has your mouth watering once more. You lick your lips absentmindedly as you shimmy out of your panties, leaving yourself just as bare as he is.
His eyes are trained on you as he walks around the bed and lies down, reaching for your hips and pulling you on top of him with a low “come here, baby”. You situate yourself, your thighs on either side of him, your hands on his chest, holding yourself upright. His cock nudges at your pussy and you experimentally shift your hips a little, feeling him glide through your wet folds and rubbing at your clit, making you gasp.
Dave’s hold on your hips tightens at your movement and he clenches his jaw. You lift yourself up a little, reaching down between you to position him at your entrance. It feels almost wrong to be in control like this and you glance up at him, suddenly unsure of yourself.
“Can I…?” you ask, biting your lip. The need to feel him inside of you is suddenly overwhelming.
“Yeah,” he answers, looking like the same need is taking over him right now, “make yourself feel good, sweetheart.”
You sink down on him, pure bliss coursing through your veins as his cock fills you up and stretches your walls. You’re a little sore from his rough treatment during the previous days, but the dull hint of pain only fuels your arousal. You open your mouth to a loud moan, all of your senses on fire, and start to slowly grind down on him. Your legs are trembling from the overwhelming pleasure of feeling him inside you.
“Good girl,” he coos, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Look at me, come on.” He slips his thumb into your mouth and you greedily suck on the digit. You obey without even thinking about it, keeping your eyes trained on his face as you start riding him faster, more moans escaping your mouth around his thumb.
Dave groans at your movement, the hand that’s not on your face digging into your hip in an almost painful way. You love that you have this effect on him and grind down harder, ignoring the way that your thighs are starting to burn. The drag of his cock inside of you feels like heaven.
“Fuck,” he moans, his fingers moving from your cheek into your hair. “You take me so well, looking so good like this. My good girl.”
His hips buck up into you, his cock nudging at your cervix and you fall forward, muffling a scream into his shoulder. His hands travel up your body and he holds you steady, thrusting into you. The change in angle lets him hit a different spot inside of you and you whimper against his neck, feeling like your limbs are turning to jelly.
He lands a single slap on your ass, not nearly as biting as you know he’s able to, but enough to make you break down on top of him as your second orgasm of the night hits you unexpectedly. It has you moaning out his name as you tremble, clawing at his shoulders while he presses you against his chest, his thrusts not relenting until your high subsides and leaves you shaking against him.
He gently slips out of you and rolls you both over, cradling your face in his hands and pressing his lips against yours. You smile into the kiss as you snuggle into his touch, still arching your body against him and holding him close. You still want more, want him to give you everything, to never let this end.
His fingers trail down, toying with your nipples, his touch so light that it has you squirming again in no time.
“Please,” you whimper, tugging at his hair, “more, Dave, please.”
You hear him groan under his breath when you say his name again. “Still feeling needy, sweetheart?” he asks, his hands on your tits turning rougher. You nod quickly, gasping when he pinches your nipples unexpectedly and another wave of arousal floods you.
He props himself up on his elbows and thrusts back into your dripping wet pussy with ease, knocking the air out of your lungs once more. His movements are fast and deep, filling you up again and again until his name is the only thing on your mind and on your tongue.
“Touch yourself,” he demands, pressing his sweat slicked forehead against yours, “give me one more, come on.”
You reach down before he even finishes speaking, rubbing at your swollen clit in quick circles. You can tell that he’s close from his erratic thrusts and the way he pants into your ear, and you want to give him everything that he asks for.
“Come on, be a good girl and give it to me,” he grits out, giving you a particular hard thrust. It hits deep inside of you and you feel your eyes rolling back into your head as you scream out his name and shatter around him.
Pure bliss is pulsing through you as his hips come to a stuttering halt and paint your insides with his cum, his own groan of your name echoing in your ear before he collapses on top of you.
His skin is flushed, hot under your fingertips as you wrap your arms around him and hold him close, breathing him in and kissing his neck. The urge to say those words grabs a hold of you once more, but you swallow them down, keeping silent and gently rubbing over his skin.
When Dave gets up, he gives you the most attentive aftercare that you’ve ever received from him. He cleans you up, runs you a bath, gets you something to eat and to drink, never leaves your side and wraps you up in your blanket when you’re finally back in bed. You protest at first, trying to convince him that it’s not necessary, that this was probably the softest he’s ever been with you, but he won’t hear it. You eventually realize that it’s his way of making up for the night before, so you let him, soaking up the care that you did miss 24 hours ago, letting him mend this connection between you.
When the lights are out, you curl into his chest again, the way you’ve gotten used to. His arm wraps around you and more kisses are placed on your forehead. You talk a bit before you fall asleep, your quiet voices filling the darkness of the room. Eventually, the conversation dies down and you close your eyes, ready to let sleep take you.
“I’ll get out,” he suddenly says, his tense voice ringing through the bedroom.
Your eyes fly back open, your head tilting up, trying to make out his face.
“Of my job,” he answers your silent question. “I can’t do it anymore, it’s not- it’s not worth it. Hasn’t been worth it for quite some time, really. I’ll get out.”
thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment, it would mean a lot to me 🫶🏻
#janas fics#the dress series#dave york#dave york fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedrostories#dave york x reader#dave york x you#dave york x female reader#dave york x f!reader#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#the equalizer 2#the equalizer 2 fanfiction
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Outliving the stars | Choi San
synopsis: You've always felt a part of you was missing, the desire for something greater only being lessened when you were gazing at the stars. You know you lost something, someone, you just dont remember what, who. Maybe the astrology major your friend sent you on a blind date with has the answers.
Pairing: Choi San x Male!reader
Info: one shot, words(2.1K),
Trope: reincarnation, Immortal x mortal, hurt/comfort
Warnings: mentions of nightmares, anxiety, topic of death, suggestive jokes, it's said they have sex but no actual smut, injuries, birthmarks shaped like scars, insecurity, self scrutinizing, social anxiety, overthinking, talks of past lives
Song inspo: Burn out the stars - Bryce savage
It was at times like these that you wished you could punch your best friend. Wooyoung was sweet, but you swear he had it out for you, sending you out on a blind date with nothing but a first name. Now you were standing at the planetarium entrance like an idiot waiting for someone you didn't even know.
Wooyoung had pesterd you for three weeks until you finally gave in. He kept trying to set you up with one of his classmates, and you were too tired to register what you were agreeing to. "Come on [Name], you can't keep being hung up on some mystery guy from your dreams. San, on the other hand is perfect, broad shoulders, an astrology major, rich, handsome face, smooth voice and he's kind" Wooyoung rambled on as you were sitting in your dorm, trying to finish the economics paper you had that was due on Friday.
"Do you want me to go out with this guy, or do you want to do so yourself?" You asked him, only receiving a pillow to your face as a response. Sighing, you looked at Wooyoung, who was taking up your entire bed. "If I go on this date, would you let me finish my paper in silence?"
Wooyoung immediately jumped up from the bed. "YES, OKAY YAY!I'm gonna go tell San you agreed! Oh! This is gonna be so much fun! SATURDAY 1PM SHARP, " Wooyoung shouted while jumping around before sharply turning on his heel to sprint out of the room, leaving with a shout of "WEAR THOSE CUTE JEANS I BOUGHT YOU!"
You only sighed, turning back to your paper and relishing in the silence.
You did, in fact, end up wearing the jeans he bought you, black baggy jeans with white stars splattered on them, matched with your red converse, and a red hoodie.
You did not want to be here, it was cold, people were staring (probably because of the scar on your face, a voice in your head told you, you ignored it) and you were craving a strawberry refresher. You guess arriving an hour early wasn't the best course of action, but you were up early, not being able to sleep the night before.
Dreams of your faceless lover had once again plagued your mind. It had been a common occurrence ever since you turned 10. You would be cuddled up in the arms of a man you could not remember, but you knew him. In a soft grass field he would be holding you tightly, you would both be watching the stars, you listening as he points out different constellations, these dreams were safe, they made you feel at ease.
But all too often, these dreams would evolve into nightmares, the same 7 scenes playing out. Your therapist had said it must have been a physiological way to deal with your own insecurities. The birthmarks that littered your skin had always looked like scars. You remember talking to her when you were 12. She said it was your brain trying to justify the marks, trying to create a story for them.
You believed her. After all, she knew better, but these dreams just felt so real, so vivid. You would hear your own heartbeat slow down and hear the cries of your mystery lover as he holds onto you. You could feel the tears dripping from his face onto yours. No matter what turn these nightmares had, they always ended with you dying in his arms.
You guess Wooyoung had been right in his concern, as your best friend he knew first hand the effect these dreams had on you. The nights you wake up gasping for air, vomiting out your dinner, clawing at your neck because something in your throat is burning. The times you're awake while your consciousness is still trapped in whatever nightmare you were experiencing. He had been there since the age of 10, he had been there.
You rubbed together the two sleeves of your hoodie, starting to feel more uncomfortable as time passed by. People were walking past, laughing, and giggling at one another. You wondered what was so funny, what were they all laughing at? Were they laughing at you? no, you didn't do anything funny, did you? oh, it's your face, right? Your face is funny, it's ugly, creepy, the scar covering your eye, one you did not deserve. A mutated freak born with scars that were not earned a fake, a- "[Name]?" A hand on your shoulder disrupts your anxiety fueled thoughts.
You turn around to find a black haired man, he's a little shorter than you, although his shoulders are broad. Jawline sharp, eyes as soft as a warm blanket on a winter's night, despite the intimidating structure of the man, his eyes, his smile, his dimples, he seems inviting, familiar almost.
He stands smiling at you, the arm he used to grab your attention is hovering awkwardly in the air, his cheeks are flushed, a pink matching one of the familiar drinks in his hand. "Umm, I'm San? your date. " he seems unsure of himself, but you find it cute, having to suppress a giggle so as to not make him feel bad.
You give him a small smile as you mentally thank Wooyoung for choosing someone good looking,"Nice to meet you, San." You nod your head at him as you shift your weight between your feet. You're being so awkward right now, but something tells you that San doesn't mind.
Despite your lack of social skills, the interaction itself does not seem awkward. Although you can feel something straining it, you brush it off to first date jitters. "Oh!um I also got us some drinks, Wooyoung said you liked strawberry refreshes, although I don't know if he was messing with me. He has a tendency to do that lately, but um drink?" San asks as he lifts up the hand, holding two drinks questioningly. His shoulders seem to tense as he awaits your reaction.
"Woo didn't lie, I do like Strawberry refreshers, thank you" you nod your head at him, his shoulders relax as he lets out a breath of relief, he picks up the pink drink from the holder in his hand and gives it to you. Your fingers touch for a moment as you take the drink from him and you jump back a little, San doesn't seem all that surprised, but he chuckles "Static electricity's a bitch, huh?"
You don't think that's how it works, but you laugh along nonetheless. It's weird as you walk with San into the planetarium. You don't like new people, don't feel comfortable around them, yet with San, it's different. You feel safe with him. He feels so familiar.
You spend the day following San around the planetarium, he excitedly points out constellations, and you swear the fake stars above your head shine dimmer than the light in Sans eyes. Somewhere along the line, your hand had been intertwined with his, as a precaution to not lose one another, you told yourself.
The date ends when the sky outside matches the one in the planetarium, a dark purple background with little specks of light twinkling above you both. The date lasted the whole day and you were having so much fun you didn't even realize, Wooyoungs gonna kill you for not telling him how everything went immediately but you can't find it in yourself to care about the headache your best friend will inevitably give you tomorrow morning.
That night, you sit on your bed, smiling down at the goodnight text from San, despite him having wished you a goodnight merely a few hours before when he walked you to your dorm. That night is the first night you sleep peacefully, no dreams of your mystery lover, no dieing, no waking up in a cold sweat despite it being winter. Nothing
Instead that night you sleep, cuddled up with the tiny red star plushie that San won for you at one of the planetarium games, you named her 'astéri' the greek word for star. Also, the exact name you put as your contact for the man who won her for you.
Your relationship with San had been a fast development, one date, then two, then you start eating lunch together, he starts walking you to classes, he joins your friends and you on movie nights, he plays games with Yunho. San becomes a part of your life faster than you can imagine, and you don't even care.
It's on your hundred day anniversary, a hundred days of dates and hangouts, and obviously being together despite no official title, that San officially asks you to be his boyfriend.
It's an emotional ordeal. He made a picnic in his backyard, creating a fort where you could both lay down and watch the stars on the soft grass. It's summer now, much hotter than when you first met, you wear a red tank top. San has expressed his love for your collarbones before, and thinking back to the moment makes you blush.
He was a bit tipsy when he blurted it out, face flushed pink given the alcohol of the drinking game he had played with your friends earlier, the room was hot, filled with college boys and liquor, so of course you took off your jacket, San had started cheering, then giggling, talking about how much he liked your neck, your collarbones. You don't know if he remembers this moment, you hope he doesn't, it would save you the embarrassment.
San presents you with a necklace on the night of his confession, a black leather strap threaded through a red star that's rimmed with silver. On the back of the necklace, the name 'astéri' is carved, under it lies numbers which look like coordinates. You don't ask.
San slips the necklace around your neck, fingers trailing dangerously slow along your shoulders. You were scared at first, you liked San, loved him, as much as you trusted him, you were scared of what his reaction would be.
He may have seen you in strappy clothing before, but he's never seen the extent to which your birthmarks your scars cover your body. The worst of them were located on your waist.
Despite your hesitance, the way San looks at you after you agree to be his, after you agree to let him be yours, it makes you want to kiss him, let him embrace every part of you and let you do the same to him.
He looks at you like you yourself were the star and who were you to deny a mortal access to a celestial entity?
That night, you learn the true extent of San's love for you, the way he trails his fingers overy every inch of your skin, extra soft kisses placed on the marks littering your body, he's gentle almost as if he knows the phantom pains they bring you, despite you never having told him.
That night you and San become, you and San, under the stars. On the soft blanket he laid out in his backyard as the warm wind of summer nips at your exposed skin.
It's when you're lying down, breathless, in between San's arms that he starts talking, answering your question from earlier that night. The numbers on the back of the necklace, the coordinates, are of a star San bought in your name. He literally bought you a star and named it 'astéri'.
"You deserve the whole galaxy, and yet I do not have the power to retrieve it for you. This way, you can have a piece of the outer world, and it can have a piece of you"
You don't think you've ever felt so loved in your life. You had fallen for San so quickly, so hard. It's hard to imagine a time when he wasn't in your life, despite the fact that you hadn't known him long, everything with him just felt so right.
You were sure you were meant to be with San in every lifetime, meant to spend every moment of your life with him. When you told him this, it had been the first time you ever saw him cry, genuinely cry. It was as if your words affected him more than you knew. You're sure they did.
That's one thing you never did understand about San, he has told you everything about himself, but you still felt as if something was missing, a piece of information locked away, it was like he was guarding it, scared you would find out. He thought he hid it well, but you prided yourself on knowing people, knowing your boyfriend. You trusted him. He would tell you when he was ready.
You and San would watch the stars burn out together, watch the world fall in each others arms, protected by a love so pure that the only thing left in the universe would be you and San
Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland @itsvxlentine @liyatime @hetalia-pol @mommahwa1117
Home page | Ateez masterlist
#kpop x male reader#ateez#college au!#choi san#choi san x reader#choi san x male reader#mortal x immortal#hurt/comfort#ateez angst#angst with a happy ending#kind of#soulmate au kind of?#ateez x male reader#ateez fluff#ateez fic#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez written fic#san choi#Spotify#asher 🌑 speaks#The amount of star references in this fic😭#please tell me if u find any spelling errors I wrote this on my phone
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Contract Spouse Chapter 6
Chapter 6: Crashing
A/N: So Chapter 8 was split into two chapters. The series will be 10 chapters long so I am getting close to being done writing!
Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader (nicknamed Pip)
Warning: Angst,
Length: 2400 ish
Summary: Pip makes a decision about her relationship with Jake, and Jake’s feelings regarding spinach are revealed.
Previous Masterlist Next
You had pizza for dinner, and you hadn’t made cookies. Jake had tried to convince you to watch a movie together but you couldn’t do nothing. The anxiety embedded in you from your childhood would not let go.
Logically you knew Jake was nothing like your parents. He had said multiple times he was not mad at you, nothing about his actions indicated he was upset with you in any way, but you could not let it go. You hadn’t felt like this in years. The urge to smooth things over and make it better consumed you and you couldn’t shake it.
When Jake had been unable to convince you to stop he had joined you, turning the Bluetooth speaker on to Texas country. He helped wash the few dishes from dinner, humming along to the song playing. He vacuumed the area rugs while you swept. Whatever you did he was there assisting.
He finally catches your wrist as you start to reorganize the drawers in the bathroom. “Pip it's after midnight.” You stare at the hand on your wrist. His grip is gentle, thumb gently caressing the inside of your wrist. “The house is clean and it's time for bed.”
You finally look at him and his eyes are soft, worry lingering in them. He backs up and gently tugs on your hand and you follow him. Your heart clenches at the hopeful smile and the relief on his face. He had been shooting you worried looks all night and you can see the tension leave him. You change in the bathroom, your room still under repairs from the water damage.
When you reach the bedroom Jake is still hovering by the side of the bed. “Do you want me to sleep on the couch?”
“No Jake, it's ok.” You crawl under the covers and pat the spot beside you, feeling ashamed by your behavior all night. “I’m sorry for tonight. You shouldn’t have cleaned too. It's a ‘me problem’.”
Jake hits the light and plunges the room into darkness. You feel the bed dip as he lies down beside you. “Well you weren't stopping and I figured it would be more efficient if I helped you clean.” Your lips twitch at his words as the bed shifts. You can tell he is facing you on his side and you turn to mirror him. “You kinda freaked me out today.”
“I'm sorry,” you whisper, feeling even worse.
“I don’t want you to be sorry,” Jake's hands slide across the space between you. His fingers brush against yours and slowly tangle together like he is waiting for you to pull away. He brings your fingers to his lips and gently kisses your knuckles as traitorous butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I want you to tell me what happened. You were so upset then you were so blank and it scared me.”
“I don’t know.” You lie, unsure of what else you can say. “The interview kinda got to me.” You couldn't explain the way your brain panicked after you pushed him and there is no way you would explain why you were mad. You wouldn’t tell him that when he called you Darlin’, your heart broke. That you were sad he didn’t love you like you loved him. It made you feel pathetic.
It felt like the story of your life, loving and wanting to be loved by people who didn’t love you back. At least Jake was better than your parents, even though in the end he would probably hurt you worse.
“Just promise me you won’t leave me.” Jake's voice is strained in a way you have never heard before. “I don’t think I can do this without you.”
“Do what without me?” Your voice drops further, afraid that if you spoke too loudly it would break the fragile thread between you.
“Life, existing, I don’t know.” He pauses like he is searching for words. “Pip, I love you.” You fight to keep your breathing steady at his words, wishing there was some kind of light so you could see his face. He has said it before, but tonight, in the dark, he sounds different. Your heart beat increases as hope fills you. “You know me, and even after the divorce I need to know you will be in my corner. I need to know I’ll still be able to call you. You’ll always be my best friend.”
At his final words the spark that had filled your chest dies. “Yeah Jake,” you agree, keeping your voice steady. “I’ll always be there for you.” At your words he pulls you into his arms and you go.
Legs tangled together and his arms around you, you lie there trying to drift off, knowing Jake won’t sleep until you do. That his brain won’t let him rest if there is someone else awake in the room. Another way you know Jake like no one else does. Unwilling to move away and unable to deny yourself the intimacy you crave, you stay. After all, this is all you are ever going to get.
– – –
You awake the next morning feeling overwhelmingly warm. Jake’s chest is pressed against your spine, his nose tucked against you and his breaths flutter the hairs at the nape of your neck.
It’s too hot and you want to move but you don’t. Judging by the light filtering in through the curtains Jake’s alarm will go off soon and he will leave you then. It’s a Saturday so you have the day off but Jake has a training flight.
When the alarm finally rings you wait for the inevitable loss of warmth but Jake just reaches over and turns it off before wrapping himself back around you and nuzzling into your neck, raising goosebumps.
“How did you sleep?” you break the spell of the peaceful morning with your words. Jake hums and rolls onto his back, you shift with him so you are propped against his side but he doesn’t leave like before.
“Good,” he tells you, “really good actually.” You smile at his admission and toss the covers off so your body can feel cool air and Jake copies you. He asks you about your plans for the day and you lie together talking about everything and nothing like you used to on the phone.
It’s you who leaves the bed first to start the coffee and part of you feels more relaxed after your lazy morning. It had been nice to lie next to Jake and talk about your day but it made you realize what you truly wanted. You had been so caught up in your unrequited feelings for Jake that you had never taken a moment to think of what you were looking for in a relationship. And despite everything you feel for Jake you realize that while he might love you, he wasn't in love with you, and it was no longer enough. You decide it’s finally time to start letting go of your love.
– – –
When you look at your ringing phone and see Javy’s contact information you frown. You had spoken to the man a few times over the years but he had never contacted you for a social call.
“Javy? What's up?” Your stomach clenches when you answer the phone.
“Hey Pip,” Javy’s voice is strained. “There's been an accident, Jake crash landed in the desert.”
“Is he ok?” you hate how small your voice sounds.
“They’re taking him to the hospital. I’ll meet you there. Wives are allowed.” He says the last part pointedly and you know that he is hinting that as Jake's wife, you are expected to be there.
“Yeah, of course.” You would have gone to the hospital even if you weren't married to Jake. “Text me the hospital and I will meet you there.”
Traffic seems to slow the closer you get to the hospital. You can’t stop nervously tapping the steering wheel of the used Rav4 you had bought the week after moving. Your mind catastrophizes everything that might happen. Jake is paralyzed, there’s internal bleeding, traumatic brain injury. Jake dies.
When you are able to park you sprint to the front desk. “Lieutenant Jake Seresin, he's a pilot, where is he?”
The nurse gives you a compassionate, yet reserved look. “May I ask your relationship to the patient?”
“I’m his wife.” The words fall from your lips easily. They are words you have barely spoken in all your years of marriage and have become increasingly common the last few months.
She directs you to a different floor and when you arrive you see Javy, still in his flight suit, broad shoulders tense, pacing the waiting room. When he sees you he wraps you into a hug. “He’s in surgery,” he says, releasing you. At your look of horror he amends. “It’s for his wrist, he fractured it, probably has a concussion, but he's going to be ok.”
You sag in relief and collapse into a chair letting out a shuddering breath. You stare at your hands and notice for the first time that they are shaking. You squeeze them together until your knuckles turn white, trying to hide the trembling from Javy when he sits down beside you. You take deep breaths and slowly the shaking stops.
“He’d be happy you are here,” Javy says and you smile.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” you say with a tight smile. “What happened? How did he crash?”
“There was some sort of electrical malfunction, he couldn't make it back to the tarmac so he landed in the desert.” You wince thinking about it and Javy continues. “He broke his landing gear off the plane so he must have hit pretty hard.” You nod and sit in silence, waiting.
“He’s gotten worse.” Javy says in a low murmur, breaking the silence. You are sitting in the corner of the nearly empty waiting room but he still glances around. “After the last mission, I don’t know, he’s different, on edge, even before the investigations. I don’t think he’s sleeping.”
“He’s not.” you say before amending, “At least not well.”
Javy sighs and you give his hand a squeeze and stare at the door to the operating rooms together. The two people who looked out for Jake while he looked out for everyone else. “He’s gotten better too.”
You look at Javy frowning, “how?”
“After the last mission, I dunno, it humbled him.“ Javy shrugs. “Made him more of a team player, less closed off. Less of an ass.” You smile. In the few times you had met Javy he had always made jokes about how you were too nice for Jake, but you never saw it. He was never an asshole around you. “You’re good for him.”
The grin on your face turns bitter. “Spinach is good for you too, so is exercise.”
“What’s your point?” Javy is frowning at you and though you feel guilty for bringing it up with Jake in surgery, you are so emotionally drained over the last two days that your walls are down.
You have hid your feelings for Jake away for so long it is second nature. There has never been anyone you can tell. And there is still something stopping you from outright bearing your soul to Javy.
“I’m not going to be someone's spinach forever,” you say following the analogy. “I want to be the gooey chocolate chip cookie that you want because it makes you happy and the bad days better, not the spinach that you keep eating because it is good for you.”
Javy is silent beside you and you begin to spin the ring around your finger again. You have no idea if Javy caught on to what you were trying not to say and a part of you is past caring. Eventually Javy breaks the silence, “Jake likes spinach, and exercise.”
You sigh sadly, “I know he does.”
– – –
When Jake is out of surgery you and Javy both get to see him. He is groggy and doesn’t do much more than mumble hello before the doctors advise him to sleep. Javy sits with you a while before a nurse insists that only one of you can stay. Javy leaves you with a hug and you curl up into the chair next to Jake’s bed.
Part of you regrets your promise from last night, that you would never leave him. You wouldn’t for good, but after the divorce you would need to go away for a while. You are staring out the window when you hear Jake's scratchy voice. “I thought I dreamed you were here with Javy.”
You pour some water into a cup and hold the straw for him. His one arm is in a cast and the other has an IV. You hit the call button the nurse had told you to press when he woke up.
“I’m glad you stayed.” His voice is less scratchy and still heavy with sleep, but there is a little smile tugging on his lips.
“I’m your wife, of course I'm here.” You smile at his groggy expression and gently squeeze his hand
“No, I want you here for me.” His smile drops, “it's not fair, but I do.” The nurse and doctor come in and you step back to let them work, mulling over Jake's words.
They keep Jake in the hospital a few days and you call out of work so you can sit with him. Mostly he sleeps but when he is awake you talk about the little things, Javy’s upcoming wedding, the house repairs, but never anything to do with your relationship. You are sitting next to Jake when Cyclone arrives. Jake goes to shift his posture and the man waves him off.
“Are you his wife?” You frown at the brusque question but nod. “Do you intend to stay married to him?” You nod again and Jake squeezes your hand. You glance at Jake, unnerved.
“Well in that case, Lieutenant Seresin I am ordering you to attend marriage counseling every two weeks for six months, with your wife.” He drops a list of counselors on the foot of the bed. “After that, and you are cleared medically, you can fly again. If you are quick about it, most of your time in counseling will coincide with your recovery.”
Your jaw drops and Jake nods. “You’re getting off light on this Seresin. Mess around again with another vindictive woman and it won’t go well for you.”
“Yes, Sir,” Jake salutes from his bed and Cyclone leaves just as abruptly as he entered.
“I think he just strengthened our case.” Jake says.
#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman x reader#jake seresin/reader#jake seresin x reader#hangman#hangman/reader#top gun hangman#topgun maverick#topgun#topgun hangman#hangman topgun
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★˙ ̟ fetchen: love drunk
stupid little fetchen drabble while i work on something else that’s also fetchen related!!! i keep thinking about pre-dating drunk fetchen dynamic at a party so here u guys go!!!
•◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡•
gretchen can’t help but feel a little disoriented, what with the bass pumping all around her and the alcohol in her system practically coursing through her veins. the chatter of her classmates that surround her drill into her head as she takes another shot.
i miss karen. where’d she go?
and then she feels someone take her by her shoulders, leading her into a half-empty room. well, as empty as a room could be in the midst of a houseparty. she’s met with karen’s stupidly pretty, smiling face. it almost looks like she’s glowing.
“gretch!” karen yells over the music. “i needa tell you a secret!” karen’s smoothing her hair before she’s cupping gretchen’s face in her hands, her touch warmer than ever. she’s already giggling before she can say another word.
what’s she trying to say?
“gretch…i love you so much.” gretchen feels karen’s touch become just a little lighter. “like, i love you more than i love halloween; and-and butterflies; and fluffy, little dogs.” gretchen finds herself lost for words.
she loves me.
the second part of karen’s statement spills out of her, “and guess what! sometimes, i really, really wanna kiss you. like, on the lips.” karen seems to be unable to stop tittering. it takes a second for gretchen’s brain to catch up.
she wants to kiss me. wait, what?
“and y’know what else?” karen adds, “i wish i could date you. like, i love you but as way, way more than friends! like…i love you like how a boyfriend loves a girlfriend! but you don’t-” she’s tripping over her words as gretchen remains silent. “you don’t love me like that! and it kinda sucks really hard!”
gretchen opens her mouth to speak faster than she can think of a response but karen unknowingly cuts her off. “anyway! i’m gonna get another drink!” karen’s still smiling almost dreamily, her tongue between her teeth as she begins to walk away.
she wants to kiss me.
everything karen had just said hits gretchen like a truck. she takes karen’s hand before she can go any further.
i think i wanna kiss her.
so gretchen does. she’s unsure of where to put her hands or if she should even adjust them at all, terrified to make the wrong move. for once, she forces herself to make another bold choice, one that serves herself and nobody else. nobody else but karen.
she cups karen’s cheeks in her hands and steps a little bit closer- it’s all so much. the room is spinning around them both, although gretchen can’t tell if it’s the dizzying sensation of kissing her best friend after she’d basically told her she was in love with her or if it’s just the booze. maybe it’s because karen tastes so strongly of vodka.
they kiss until the need for air stabs at their chests and then they do it again and again and again. karen’s lips are soft and her arms are wrapped gently around gretchen in such a way that drives her insane. her own arms have moved down, now hooked around karen’s neck, wanting her even closer.
for the first time, gretchen’s stopped caring about the people around her and what they might think- what jason thinks. she’s kissing a girl who just so happens to be karen. karen just so happens to love her. this is the feeling she’s been needing, she’s sure of it.
when gretchen pulls away, struggling to catch her breath, she’s again met with karen’s stupidly pretty, smiling face.
god, she’s so pretty.
i think i love her too.
#ruey writes#they’re so cute#i hate them#mean girls#mean girls 2024#mean girls musical#fetchen#karen x gretchen#gretchen x karen#gretchen wieners#karen shetty#karen smith#bebe wood#avantika#avantika vandanapu#lgbt#lgbtq#sapphic#sapphic ship#wlw#wlw ship#queer#lesbian#pansexual#cady heron#regina george#janis ian#janis imi'ike#damian hubbard#drabble
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"kunikuzushi, if I asked you to kill someone for me, would you do it?"
warnings: offscreen murder, light gore, yandere ish but not really imo, reader is implied to be a kitsune (reader is gender neutral)
@edenialucas, @huboi, @nejibot, @lovediluc, @yumixxn, @teallapril, @midnxght-sweet-time, @barbatosfavouritenun
“What?”
“You’ve ended lives for my sake before,” you say, not lifting your head up, hands focused on stitching the garment on your lap. “would you do it for me again?”
The balladeer puts his quill aside, a smirk on his lips as indigo eyes centre on you. “For my stoic fox to go so far as to demand for this person gone, they must have committed a major transgression against you.”
You made a sound akin to an aggrieved hum, pulling particularly hard on the thread before stabbing it into the fabric. It’s true; one of the things you share with Kunikuzushi is your hatred for humanity. Unlike the harbinger who pours all of his hatred to his lackeys, forcing them to endure the brunt of his cruelty, you’ve always preferred to keep yourself hidden from others. The lesser you have to interact with those phoney people, the better it is for your wellbeing.
There are times when you have no choice in the matter, and you’re reminded of why you despise being around others so much. Normally, you’ll silently wish for them to disappear, praying to nobody for the second you’re able to return to your room. But in this instance, they’ve accidentally ignited your ire: cold and seething and you’re unsatisfied with anything less than hearing news of that person’s dead body strewn atop a bloody icicle on a cliff somewhere deep within the Snezhnayan mountains.
“Won’t you tell me what this person did to offend you?”
“What if I said no?”
“Then I won’t press.”
“...I’m done.” You cut the thread before lifting the shirt up to inspect for any more loose seams or tears. “I’ll hang it up for you to wear tomorrow.”
You fold the shirt on your lap, standing up before pausing. “Kuni, would you do it for me again? For my sake?”
The balladeer regards you with an unrecognisable expression on his face. “How would you like it to be done?”
“Painful and slow,” you say without missing a beat. “I don’t want to witness it. You can tell me how it went.”
Kunikuzushi could only laugh at such a macabre response, nearly to tears before he recollects himself. “I need a name, you know.”
Your steps echoes throughout his office as you walk towards him, bending down to whisper in his ear before leaving a quick peck on his lips.
“I’ll see you tonight.”
—
“(Name), come here.”
You sit on his lap, snaking your arms around his neck as you nuzzle against him. The harbinger’s voice is gentle as he hums an Inazuman lullaby; one that he usually catches you singing to yourself when you’re alone. He finishes his tune, smiling to himself as he smoothes his palm up and down your back.
“He’s dead.”
You nod. Ah, now that you think about it, that iron scent is especially pungent today.
“I handed him to Dottore. Or whatever was left of him. I don’t even know if his brain is still intact after what I did to him.”
You mutter something intelligible before planting a string of kisses from his collarbone to his jaw. As he strokes your tails — swishing slowly from side to side — he hears a whispered “thank you” and an “I love you” next to his ear, coupled with a quiet purring noise, and he knows that you’ll be sleeping well tonight.
#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#scaramouche x reader#genshin scaramouche x reader#genshin scaramouche#scaramouche#kunikuzushi#yandere scaramouche#yandere scaramouche x reader
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Judging a Derek by His Cover
“Seriously? You have to ask?” Stiles asked, in a bit of a disbelieving tone. “I mean I-... have you seen you? Resisting you sounds impossible, Derek, I mean seriously. I don’t think anyone in their right mind would tell you no if you gave them even a second look that’s- that’s impossible, you’re-”
Derek had already begun to tune out, a sick feeling crawling from the pit of his stomach upwards. He had grabbed for his shoes, fumbling slightly as he slid them on, in the middle of Stiles’ rambling. Before the other could continue, Derek waved away the rest with a nod.
“Right, right - you’re not… blind,” Derek interrupted. Stiles seemed a bit stunned at the overly neutral tone. Moving past Stiles without looking him properly in the eye, Derek mumbled about needing to get ready. Stiles attempted to stop him, his voice going low once the door opened, but it was of no use.
+.+.+
OR: a fic from the vaults, inspired by modern-day royalty au, derek’s penchant for being sought after just for his looks, and im not sure what else was going on in my brain at the time tbh
Word Count: 4387
———
“I have to get ready,” Derek said, pushing himself up and out of the bed. He sighed, sitting on the edge, staring at his hands a bit blankly. He wished he could freeze time - stay in moments like these. These moments are stolen in between chores and tasks, family and staff. He didn’t want to have to leave.
“Oh?” Stiles asked, stretching out lazily, tucking his hands behind his head. “What’s on the agenda today, sir prince?”
The tone was teasing but it made Derek cringe. Another reminder. He didn’t hate his position or his family or his people or any of it - he loved Beacon and his family was amazing and he adored being able to be a part of what made all of it. But, his position - his title - came with limitations. Expectations.
“Some gathering,” Derek mumbled, ducking his head a bit lower, “my mom says it’s in celebration of the peace treaties - ten years this week. But…”
“But…?” Stiles prompted, moving to curl behind Derek, his chin resting on a pillow as he gazed up at the other’s face. Derek cut his eyes to the side, letting the slightest of smiles curve across his lips before it fell off again. That was another one of Stiles’ talents - his ability to make Derek laugh and smile, no matter the day or its events.
“But,” Derek gathered a deep breath, “she’s been hinting at… socializing, at dating. She keeps bringing up names and countries and heirs and… I don’t know. She keeps mentioning Braeden and just…”
Stiles moved away, crawling up to a sitting position himself. Derek cast a look back at the other, waiting for some sort of response. It took a minute, Stiles facing away from him and seemingly fiddling with his shirt and hair. When he turned back he had a wide grin, cheeky and teasing.
“Oh you’ll do fine, Der, who could ever resist you? Huh?” Stiles said, giving him a nod of appreciation. It made Derek’s throat dry up, a reminder creeping in.
“Resist me…” Derek repeated a bit dumbly, staring now to the side of Stiles’ head, looking unseeingly out the window on the opposite side of the room. He heard Stiles give a huff of laughter, saw the shaking of his head from his peripheral.
“Obviously,” Stiles scoffed, “they’d have to be blind!” And that’s when Derek’s blood ran a bit cold, color draining from his face ever so slightly. “Anyways, I should - uh- get going. Let you get ready for the party and all that.”
Stiles stood up, fingers carding through his hair before tugging at and smoothing down his shirt. They’d laid lazily in the spare room for hours, taking turns carding fingers through one another’s hair, biting lingering kisses into one another’s lips, straddling each other’s laps as they got lost in the quietness disturbed only by soft groans and gasps. It had been bliss, those couple hours together. It was one of the only times Derek didn’t feel like he was on display or out of place to some degree. It felt right. Comfortable.
Staying quiet, Derek watched as Stiles stood up, slipping his shoes back on and fretting over his clothes again. He was always busy, mind and body in constant motion even if it didn’t make sense. It used to infuriate Derek when Stiles first began working in the library - he could never focus with the other’s mumbles and murmurs and humming and moving. It was chaotic in the smallest of ways. Now, though, he felt restless if Stiles didn’t move - his skin felt prickled if the younger man stayed still too long, a wrongness about it.
Before Stiles could open the door and sneak a look outside before he darted out, Derek asked, “Why didn’t you?”
Stiles paused, looking at the other in confusion and a half tilt of his head. “Why… why didn’t you resist me or - turn me down? Why?” Derek elaborated. His voice held steady and sounded normal but his heart was lodged in his throat and the tips of his fingers felt numb.
The question at least gave Stiles pause. He stepped back closer in the room, an incredulous look on his face once his mind seemed to catch up. He began waving, hands exaggeratedly emphasizing the length of Derek’s form still sitting on the bed before he gave an answering huff.
“Seriously? You have to ask?” Stiles asked, in a bit of a disbelieving tone. “I mean I-... have you seen you? Resisting you sounds impossible, Derek, I mean seriously. I don’t think anyone in their right mind would tell you no if you gave them even a second look that’s- that’s impossible, you’re-”
Derek had already begun to tune out, a sick feeling crawling from the pit of his stomach upwards. He had grabbed for his shoes, fumbling slightly as he slid them on, in the middle of Stiles’ rambling. Before the other could continue, Derek waved away the rest with a nod.
“Right, right - you’re not… blind,” Derek interrupted. Stiles seemed a bit stunned at the overly neutral tone. Derek always spoke in an even manner, known for being a bit brasher in his tone than others but fairly neutral and even overall - it was a mark of the Hale family, after all. To be balanced in all ways. He couldn’t risk being too nice or too rude. He may toe the line of overly curt and brash but he was never outright cold with his words. But even he could hear it - the change in his voice. It was exceptionally vague - not a hint of brashness. He was as even as his mother in her political discussions - unreadable.
Moving past Stiles without looking him properly in the eye, Derek mumbled about needing to get ready. Stiles attempted to stop him, his voice going low once the door opened, but it was of no use. Even the soft touch to Derek’s shoulder as he stepped out slid off with just a single step, allowing the steadily growing wall between them to commence.
Derek tried not to think about it. Shoved the thoughts out of his mind as he left the mostly empty hall and trailed back to his own room. He shouldn’t have thought Stiles would be interested in anything else besides his looks. It was, after all, his saving grace. After Kate’s stunt years back, most people averted their eyes - unable to meet Derek’s. It lingered with some, but it only took a year or two at most before he was once more a display.
Giggling visitors from other countries bashfully complimented him on how handsome he was, eyes raking up and down his body at parties and celebrations. Tabloids posted dozens of photos whenever he left the palace - endless remarks of his looks and how well clothes fit him and how others were sure the good looks didn’t stop at just his face pouring from every media outlet in the country and even in others.
He was used to it. He smiled his practiced smile, knew when to bow his head and murmur thanks. He was used to the squeezes to his bicep when being requested to dance and the lingering eyes of his partners. But that was it. Even Kate had said so when she still played the part of smitten girlfriend.
She’d tease him for his quiet nature and his lack of ability to feed into normal conversations. He could talk policy as needed and he had a plethora of books surrounding philosophers, history, and even art at his disposal - but they were drab topics outside of negotiations and proper business. And even if the analysis of Picasso’s The Old Guitarist was one Derek found interesting and showed the necessity of the arts and their value to civilizations old and new, Kate didn’t want to hear about it. Besides, even with his most impassioned topics on the table he still was a man of few words. Part of that came from being the son of the reigning Queen of Beacon, another part came from Kate’s backhanded nature.
Either way, it didn’t matter. Derek earned his keep with his looks. He was a nice face to look at and a figure that harnessed desire. Either no one cared what else he might be able to offer or his lack of personality drove them back to their distanced gazes. Just because Stiles could quote at least one line from every book Derek has ever picked up since he started working in the library and just because Stiles had enough words for five people let alone a conversation of two didn’t mean he wouldn’t be the same.
It was to be expected.
+.+.+
Several hours later found Derek in one of his more casual attires but one fit for a prince nonetheless. The party and celebration were not one for hosting political affairs - they were for rejoicing. Sure, it was shared amongst several other visiting countries, and the sprawling room and subsequent halls were filled with faces far and wide, but none of them came to talk about further negotiations, treaties, or trade options. They all came to eat, dance, and laugh - embracing the decade’s worth of peace since King Christopher took his father’s place in Silvenia and ended the wars and trade blocks.
Derek stood off to the side, doing his best to obscure himself as much as possible in the throng of people. He’d eaten, he’d talked to his family, and he’d even danced with several people. He had done his share, he thought. This was meant to be enjoyed, and he enjoyed being alone.
He couldn’t, however, forever hide from Braeden. He’d seen his mother walking with her, laughing. His mother’s eyes seemed to search the crowd, trying to find him, and he did his best to slink away before she caught a whiff of his location. He’d done a good job so far, but he knew it was a fruitless endeavor to try and avoid her all night. It had only been two hours and the celebration would more than likely go well into the night. His mother would find him eventually.
Musing the odds of success if he were to try and slink away to his room or possibly to the gardens for a couple of hours to avoid detection a bit longer, Derek zoned out momentarily - unaware of his surroundings. He acknowledged the movement of others, the change in music, but it was all background noise in his mind. Which is why it was the perfect time for him to be found.
Just not by his mother, it seemed.
“Derek?” Stiles asked, gently laying a hand on his arm, eyebrows scrunched up in concern. “You okay?”
Shaking himself out of his clouded thoughts, Derek nodded and went to pull away from Stiles’ touch - planning to test out his garden escape. He should’ve been looking out for the man. After all, Stiles has been a regular attendee of nearly all the Hale family’s gatherings and parties for over 10 years. His father was now the Head of Palace Guards and his mother had once overseen the library he now worked in. Stiles’ presence was all but guaranteed between his two parents both working in the palace on a daily basis. Derek had just distantly hoped he wouldn’t approach him here - similar to all previous events.
“Then you wouldn’t mind me asking for a dance, would you?” Stiles asked, his eyebrows now unscrunched, one raised in question as he held out his hand. Derek stared for a moment, bewildered.
In all the years Stiles had attended these gatherings, he’d never once asked to dance with Derek - he rarely spoke to him. He’d danced with Cora once or twice, the two having been closer as kids since they were the same age and Cora deciding Stiles was the perfect partner for her scheming ploys. But even now in recent times, since Derek and Stiles had begun their… whatever it was between them, he had never asked. It had been nearly a year of sneaking into hidden library corners, empty guest rooms, and ducking into stable stalls - stealing kisses, fingers unbuttoning shirts, hands roaming skin. In that same time over a handful of parties, political events, and other such gatherings had come to pass of all different magnitudes and Stiles had all but avoided Derek.
Cautiously, Derek put down the drink in his hand and laid the other in Stiles’ open palm. He let the other pull him seamlessly into the throng of moving bodies. The music wasn’t slow enough for proper dance steps but it wasn’t fast enough to deter other couples from swaying and moving across the floor together. Blessedly, Stiles moved into the crowd and guided one of Derek’s hands to his waist, clasping the other in his hand while Stiles laid his second hand on Derek’s shoulder.
No one really led in this dance, but Stiles letting him control the speed and direction was a godsend as he was sure to stumble if he had to follow. Derek was sure he had Cora to thank for that, as he recalled his younger sister demanding to be the lead and making a young, 11-year-old Stiles learn to follow in all their dance numbers. He recalls hiding smirks and laughs behind his hand and drinks, watching the two kids stumble about when Stiles accidentally went to lead them and Cora stubbornly refused to follow.
He pushed those memories aside, trying to remove the fond film he’s learned to lay over all the memories with Stiles in them. He doesn’t know when he’d begun to do it, but it was harder than he’d expected to try and stop it.
“You left kinda fast earlier,” Stiles finally murmured, voice low as his eyes danced around the room. They got a couple of second glances, those who knew of Stiles’ position a bit surprised to find the two dancing together. Sure, he danced with Cora over the years, but that was largely when they were kids and it was cute - something for the adults to coo over and take pictures of.
“Yes,” Derek answered simply. He didn’t know what Stiles wanted and he preferred to keep his cards close to his chest. Stiles huffed at the minimal response, a fond eye roll following it shortly after.
“Okay, thanks for that,” Stiles teased, “what I meant is why? Did- did I say something to upset you? Did something happen - are you okay?”
Even in shorter sentences, Stiles still somehow rambled. His tempo was a bit too fast, his tone of voice wavering and pitching in odd places, teeth biting at his lips as he came up with a dozen more thoughts - his face mirroring his reaction to each one in live action. Derek quelled the amusement he found in the mannerisms.
“Just wanted to leave.”
At this, Stiles seemed to stutter in movement, feet delayed and causing the two to stumble momentarily. Both of Derek’s hands moved to hold him at the waist, righting him before he could fall while Stiles’ hands both gripped Derek’s shoulders to help anchor himself. They found themselves closer together, the stance becoming a bit more personal and intimate than before.
“Leave… me?” Stiles whispered quietly, looking over Derek’s shoulder. Derek stayed quiet, unsure how to answer without giving too much away. “Is it because of what I said? That I’m attracted to you? Did that upset you?” It was Derek’s turn to bring a stutter to their movements, going rigid. He thankfully composed himself much quicker, only setting them off by a step at most that was easily regained.
“I don’t have an issue with you finding me attractive, Stiles,” Derek sighed, “like you said, who isn’t.”
It wasn’t a question. But he couldn’t control the bite that came out with the last two words, a bit of a sarcastic drawl underlining his words. At this, Stiles snapped his eyes to the side, looking questioningly at his dance partner. Derek didn’t explain any further, instead avoiding direct eye contact as best he could while still dancing.
“Is that…” Stiles’ words faltered, dying off. Even without looking at his face, Derek could see his thoughts play out. He swear he could hear the gears grinding in his head as he raced through all possible questions, answers, scenarios, and each of their meanings in a span of a few seconds. It would never cease to impress and exasperate Derek how Stiles thought just as quickly as he spoke - often one blending into the other without filter or regard for how his words came out.
“Der,” Stiles said, his voice suddenly a bit louder and demanding. Derek just raised his eyebrows in response, gaze still not meeting Stiles’. The younger boy huffed, hides sliding up from Derek’s shoulders to grip either side of his face and force Derek to look at him before he continued speaking. “What I said was true. I don’t know any sane person who would turn you down, but - that’s not the only reason I’m attracted to you. You know that, right? You have to know that.”
Derek swallowed the lump in his throat, giving a partial shrug to try and show his indifference on the matter. It seemed to be the wrong response, however, when Stiles growled out low in frustration, his fingers digging in a bit more into Derek’s skin and demanding his attention.
“You have to know,” he said, incredulous. “You think - what? All this time I just wanted some casual… fling? That I just saw a pretty face and that was all it took? A pretty face and I spend hours sneaking away from my work, hiding from my dad, skirting around guards?”
Stiles paused, but not long enough for Derek to actually respond. He shook his head as if in disbelief before continuing, “Is that it? You thought I just wanted to fuck around with you? Jesus Christ, how shallow do you think I am? Better yet! How stupid?! If I just wanted someone for their looks why would I go after a prince? A prince, Derek. I know we’re evolved and all but I’m sure your mom would still approve a hanging or beheading or some other medieval offing of me, fuck.”
Derek couldn’t help but crack a wry grin at Stiles’ vomit of words, head ducking down slightly as he tamped down on his laughter. The idea of his mother not only approving but requesting a beheading seemed comical - the woman was terse and poised, levelheaded beyond compare, but she was also the same woman who cried over Animal Planet at 9 PM on a Tuesday after seeing a crocodile eat a baby zebra. She blubbered about ‘the poor baby’ for half an hour, squeezing Cora into a smushed hug against her chest and all but breaking Derek’s bones as she held his hand. It was a hilarious thought, all things considered.
Stiles’ noise of exasperation broke him from his daddling thoughts, surprising Derek. Another thing Stiles was good at; even without trying, he got Derek lost in his own rambling thoughts - Stiles’ jabber and ranting offering endless avenues of thought and consideration, even if absurd. It was a nice change of pace, having something to ponder and get lost in. Something that was entertaining and not all too important that demanded his full focus or response all at once.
“Derek, I am about to make a damn fool of myself and if someone overhears this and then sees you walk away from me I think I’ll be forced to exile myself but, Jesus fuck , here it goes,” Stiles let out a long breath, eyes closing briefly before reopening and settling on Derek as if he were a target. “I am in-fucking-love with you. I love how you speak with your eyebrows and eye rolls better than any person can with words. I love how you obsessively read fucking historical books and pour over goddamn poetry and art journals. I love how you get spaced out when we talk about centuries-old plays and hundred-year-old paintings as if you can’t comprehend what they mean and are stunned by their mere existence. I love how you talk and sound like you’re thinking of murdering me and then just- laugh! And god, your laugh - I still can’t figure out if it’s your smile or your laugh that’s my favorite. And, fuck- I just… I can’t think of a single thing I don’t obsessively think about when it comes to you. And of course, of course, you’re fucking beautiful - work of art, walking god, all the usuals - but I… I just love being with you.”
They stopped dancing, coming to a halt in the middle of the mass of people. Derek is sure the song changed, people who still lingered a bit further away now going through similar steps and movements he couldn’t be bothered to recall or put a name to. He also knew they were being watched - hell, he’s sure half a dozen people caught at least half of that spiel, with Stiles’ voice raising in tone and pitch and volume like crazy throughout as if he couldn’t control it.
He felt a bit punch drunk, in a way. He didn’t know if he should be embarrassed that Stiles caught him wistfully zoning out over paintings or if he should laugh at the fact that Stiles has somehow done what not even his family has by being able to read and understand his responses just by facial expressions alone. It felt like a weight had been removed from his shoulders but his stomach felt heavy, stirring with nerves.
“You love me?” he finally asked. Stiles groaned, smacking his head against the curve of his own arm that rested against Derek’s shoulder. He was muttering and cursing quietly.
“I only repeated it about a hundred times but, yes. Yes - I love you. I am in love with you, I will figure out all the euphemisms to say it and learn it in as many languages as I can. Hell, I’ll do it old school - find a fucking boombox and sta-”
Stiles’ remaining rant cut off as Derek pulled his chin up, pressing a harsh kiss against the other’s lips. It wasn’t soft or biting, just… hard. Solid. Reassuring. Stiles helped quell the bruising press of lips by softly dragging a thumb over Derek’s cheek, the gesture making the kiss soften until they both were pulling away. Stiles looked awestruck, eyes dancing and sliding side to side to take in the room before ultimately landing once more on Derek’s face, a pleased grin taking over his face as their eyes met.
“I’ve been stupidly in love with you ever since you began singing that awful song when I tried to explain what a Blue Period was and then I kept humming it all week because it was stuck in my head,” Derek offered as an explanation for his actions. Stiles paused, eyebrows pulled together in consideration for a second before he broke out into loud laughter, probably remembering the exact scene from two years prior. If no one saw them before they surely had garnered enough people’s attention by now.
“I think I’ve been in love with you since you told Harris off for making me cry during the Polka,” Stiles grinned. It was Derek’s turn to bark out a laugh, louder than he had laughed in a while. He remembered that, it was 8 years ago - when Stiles and Cora were still learning various dances. Cora had to learn for the sake of her title and appearance, Stiles was just the poor culprit she wrangled into the mess and who could barely keep time with the three-step beat, leading to lots of stumbling and Harris berating him before Derek growled out a retort about being so pathetic to bully a child.
Derek remembered it as a scarring experience, Stiles refusing to dance for two weeks after. Stiles, however, decided it was the moment in which he’d fall in love with a then-angry, overly private 16-year-old that barely even spoke to him. Derek wasn’t sure which moment of realization was more absurd between them.
“You were thirteen !”
“And I was in love!”
It got quiet between the two, both of them just grinning at the other. Neither bothered to realize just how quiet it had gotten, or how much space had been carved out around them during their conversation. They were lost in their own world, ignorant to the rest of the room around them.
It wasn’t until a minute or two passed when a cleared throat caught their attention, making them realize the quieter atmosphere and their center stage set up among the crowd. Talia - Queen Talia - stood beside them, a knowing smirk on her face as she regarded them with a raised eyebrow, hands clasped in front of her.
Stiles gave a half-choked squawk in realization while Derek bowed his head, his cheeks heating in embarrassment. They separated abruptly, standing side by side to face Talia head-on.
“So,” Talia broke the silence, “I don’t think I’ll be introducing you to Braeden anytime soon. Seeing as you already have a boyfriend, hm?”
Stiles choked again, some mangled word dying in his throat, while Derek simply looked up at his mom with a deer-in-the-headlights look. When she gave a pointed tilt of her head, eyes shooting to Stiles as the younger man seemed paralyzed on the spot, Derek knew she was encouraging him to confirm. To say something .
“Yes,” he finally managed to pull out, his hand reaching out to grasp Stiles’ and squeezing it in question. When he got an immediate squeeze in response, he gave his mother a wide, genuine smile. “I’m dating Stiles.”
With that, Talia seemed pleased. She clapped her hands, announced that further celebration was to commence, and then left them as they were. It was oddly anti-climatic, the room returning to its usual activity and volume as before - only sneaky side glances were thrown their way in curiosity. It was easy for Derek to pull Stiles back to the outskirts of the room, however, the two of them were unable to stop glancing at each other and sharing smiles.
#ao3#ao3fic#derek hale#stiles stilinski#sterek#royalty au#modern royalty au#alive hale family#fluff and angst#derek hale x stiles stilinski#stiles x derek#derek x stiles#teen wolf stiles#stiles stilinksi fanfiction#derek hale fanfiction#teen wolf fanfiction#teen wolf fic#sterek fics#ao3 fic#sterek fic rec#my fic#teen wolf#teen wolf derek hale#oneshot
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I neeeeeeeed some Cassian X reader. The poor baby bat doesn't get enough love.
I need Fluff! Smut! Kicking my feet in the air cuteness!!! Break my heart angst!!!!
Okay... maybe a story where the reader feels a little forgotten because her childhood was like that? She's scared to be abandoned and shoved away.
making the bed | cassian
push away all the people who know me the best, but it’s me who’s been making the bed.
inspired by making the bed by olivia rodrigo
hi anon! hope you are well<3 thank you for requesting!
cassian. he was everything you could ever ask for in a mate. he was kind, funny, compassionate, loyal, well-rounded. so why, why were you here, crying with your head in your hands?
stupid. that’s what it was.
you knew what you signed up for, that accepting a mating bond with the lord of bloodshed meant that he would go on missions, he would train a large amount of his day, he’d attend meetings with the inner circle.
but when he left, when the house was empty, when his side of the bed had gone cold, you were right back where you started.
you were back in your childhood home, waiting for your parents to give you attention. for them to stop doting on your siblings and give you a grain of their approval, of their time. but that never came. you wanted a whole piece but you got scraps—breadcrumbs if you were lucky.
so you sat and cried. you let your inner child pour out, you let your body shake with sobs. you let yourself feel alone, because it was more comfortable than convincing yourself that someone you loved hadn’t left.
all rationality went out the window. you didn’t listen to your brain telling you that cassian loved you, no. you listened to the thoughts saying that you didn’t deserve his attention. that he was withholding it as punishment for something you didn’t know you did.
you don’t remember the moment he came into the room, when his strong calloused hands found yours. when he pulled your hands off your eyes, when he kissed the tears that fell.
“c-cas?” you choked, quickly wiping your tears.
“what’s wrong baby? i just got home, why didn’t you send me a message through the bond?”
you sniffed and pressed your head into his shoulder, inhaling his scent. you grounded yourself, allowing the reassurance of him being here course through your veins.
“because it’s all so stupid, cas.” you muttered, your voice still delicate as if it was a glass vase on the edge.
“nothing that’s got you this upset could ever be stupid, love.” he whispered, smoothing your hair as he laid down, pulling you with him.
your ear pressed against his chest, you let the sound of his heartbeat calm you. you inhaled before looking up at him through glossy eyes.
“i know you know about my past, but sometimes being alone brings me back. it isn’t anything you did, it isn’t your fault. it just gets to me, the loneliness, i guess.”
he frowned, pulling your face closer to him and placing a soft, gentle kiss that sent shots of love through your bond. “i’m sorry baby. i know it’s gotta be hard for you, but i’m only one call away for you. things have been crazy since hyburn, i know that. but i promise as soon as this all washes over, rhysand won’t be able to get me away from you with a crowbar.”
you giggled lightly as his lips met your forehead. “i just wish there was something i could do for you so you aren’t so alone.”
you smirked and looked up at him, cocking your head innocently. “well, actually…”
“what is it, pretty girl?” he furrows his brows expectantly, his hands still cupped around your flushed face.
“i was thinking… maybe if i get a dog, i wouldn’t be so lonely.” you smiled wide, giving him pleading eyes that made his heart sing.
he rolled his eyes, laughter booming as he grabbed a pillow and hit you with it. you squealed, grabbing the pillow and countering the attack.
“i’m serious!” you pleaded, frowning at him.
“i’ll think about it.” he said, knowing damn well his first step tomorrow would be to the animal shelter.
#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#acotar fic#cassian#cassian x y/n#cassian x reader#cassian x you#cassian x female!reader
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Every Witch Way
A fic that I wrote inspired by this photo. Originally I wanted it to become a detective fic but my brain spiraled and I ended up with this. It became an adventure mystery story and of course, the government hates them :) I liked the idea of them traveling through the desert and I'm not too sure where the guild fit in this but just know that all Magicians (Witches) are in hiding because society believes they are evil. Most normal people do not have magic so someone spread a theory that the only reason witches have magic is because of human sacrifices etc. It's important to note that witches want to keep their powers under wraps or else they will get reported to the authorities and sent to the hier-ups in the capital. Nobody knows what happens to the witches who are caught but they don't want to find out.
That might be some unnecessary background information so skip over that if you wish and enjoy!
When Lucy finds herself kidnapped by a ruthless group of bandits, the last thing she expects is to be saved by a witch with Pink hair and his talking blue cat. And she most certainly didn't expect to become their good friend and travel companion. Who knew evil sorcerers and government conspiracies can lead to unexpected friendships.
As the blond girl dragged herself, hands tied together in front of her, and sand covered bare feet weakly trailing after her, she realized how fast camels might actually be. You see, in all of the stories she had read so far, none of them did the four legged beast's speed any justice. They never quite described how hard it was to keep up with them. It was always “The creature was big” or “The creature was furry” but never “When kidnapped by a group of bandits, tied to and forced to stumble behind a literal camel, it may be hard to keep up.”
See if any of the books had written that in, maybe Lucy Hearfillia might be faring better in her situation. But alas, she was not.
“Stop lagging behind, blondie!” One of the men snarled, pulling on the rope to further demonstrate his annoyance. Lucy stumbled forward, struggling to stay upright. She hung her head low, very aware of the menacingly bright sun and quietly sighed.
Oh what she would do to somehow get out of this unfortunate turn of events.
She has probably been traveling together with these no good thieves for about 3 hours. After being abducted from the only good town in this godforsaken desert, the men forced her to follow them, ignoring her cries of where she was and demands to let her go. She gave up eventually of course. Not even her vocal cords could handle the immense heat that came with the dry deserted area.
“Hey boss.” The big one said, glancing over at her with furrowed brows. He had been the one to capture her in the first place. Of course Lucy could have easily taken him on but… a moment's hesitation was all they needed to successfully tie her up and steal her ring of keys. Aquarius was going to kill her!
“Not that I really want to, but... Should we give the chick some water?”
The man in front of the big one grunted, his blueish hair blowing with the small breeze and clearly showing off his strange X-like tattoo. Lucy watched on with little interest as a bead of sweat traveled down his forehead.
“I wouldn’t bother.” He scoffed. “Every time we’ve tried, she just spits it back up. Plus, earlier she tried to bite off Javier’s finger, do you really want to risk it?” He raised an eyebrow.
The man in question made a whining noise, clutching his injured hand to his chest and glaring at their prisoner with watery eyes. He mockingly raised the water bottle to his mouth, chugging it in an attempt to get a rise out of her. Lucy rolled her eyes, instead looking back down at the smooth sand beneath her feet.
The big one made a noise of understanding. “Even after we lied about it not being drugged too-”
Javier spit up the water that he was previously chugging, shakily putting the top back on and storing it back inside of the camel's holding bag.
“You idiot!” ‘Boss’ hissed, turning a piercing glare unto the man beside him. “She still didn’t know-” He paused, glancing over at their very interested prisoner and forced himself to take a deep breath. “You know what, it doesn't matter, she'll be fine.”
“But, Bora-”
“She’ll be fine!” The man who Lucy now knew as Bora raised a fist threateningly. He smirked in sick pleasure as his henchmen coward away. Before she even had time to pull a face of disgust, he turned to Lucy, eyeing her hungrily. “Now, let's get a move on. The employer is expecting us by sundown and I'd rather not have the sun beating down on me any longer than necessary.”
The rest of his men tiredly murmured in agreement, picking up the pace and forcing the blond girl to — once again —trudge through the slippery sand. She hissed as her feet pricked on some sort of stick-like plant. Oh Mavis if she could just reach into the pouch hanging off of Bora’s belt-
“I don’t see the issue, it’s not even that hot.” A new voice said, startling the crew of 14 bandits plus Lucy herself. Her head snapped up for the first time in a while. Ignoring the ache in her neck, the girl rapidly searched the area until settling upon a man with… pink hair.
He didn’t look too shocked to see a kidnapped girl tied to a Camel. Nor did he bat an eye at the blue cat that sat on his head, lazily playing with the goggles that held his hair out of his face (Did she mention that it was pink!?). And his attire looked so incredibly… bold that Lucy was sure she would faint. Seriously, who was stupid enough to travel through the desert in a black long sleeve shirt, a tan vest and a literal scarf. It was like the guy was begging to get a heat stroke.
She had immediately decided that whoever this man was, he was insane.
“Now.” He grinned, getting into a fighting stance. “What was it you said about an employer?”
Oh look now he wanted to fight off an entire group of bandits. Lucy scoffed. Definitely insane.
Where did he even come from?
Bora snarled, holding up a hand and signaling his guys to pounce on the man wearing freaking cargo pants. Once again, the pink haired freak didn’t even flinch. He stayed rooted to his spot, grinning a wide smile and daring one of them to come at him.
They did, of course, and to Lucy’s surprise were blasted back by a large ring of—
“Fire!”
Well that certainly explains a lot.
Even after that big scare, the men were back on “Mr. cargo pants” as soon as Bora sent each and every one of them a snarl. The blond snorted as soon enough, all 14 men were on the floor, some of them even halfway in the sand and halfway not.
Bora’s horrified face soon turned back into a scowl as he fully processed Lucy’s teasing. He jumped off of the Camel, ignoring a curious looking “Mr. cargo pants” and stomping over to her.
“Something Funny?” He said.
“Yeah, actually.” She chuckled some more, tugging on the rope in silent frustration. “Looks like you're about to get your ass handed to you.”
Bora growled, raising his hand in an attempt to threaten her. Lucy eye’d it wearily, but made no attempt to move out of its path. To her pleasure that seemed to aggravate the man even more.
“I’ll show you!” He cried and Lucy's breath hitched as he brought his hand down to strike her across the face…
The sound of skin hitting skin somehow echoed throughout the desert and Lucy was sure her face was stinging a bright red…
Except it wasn’t… to be honest she felt no pain. Almost as if she hadn’t been hit at all… Cracking her eyes open she realized that a figure stood in front of her, effectively blocking both the sun and her view of Bora. At this, the girl was finally able to piece together what happened.
Bora had aimed for her face, only for his wrist to be caught by “Mr. cargo pants” himself.
What an interesting turn of events indeed.
Lucy was quite surprised by how calm she was in this type of situation. No other girl would be able to keep a straight face as they were surrounded in an alleyway, tied up, and forced onto a camel, only to be saved by a strange man (who was definitely insane) that kicked ass and breathed fire. Though if anything she’d have to blame it on experience.
The silence was interrupted by a snarl, one almost inhuman. Bora shrieked, snatching his hand away and forcibly putting a distance between him and this insane man.
“H-how dare you!” Bora shrieked, reaching into his belt and pulling out a knife. Lucy’s eyes flashed onto the leather pouch before giving the man a hard glare.
“You’re one of those demons aren't you!” His voice shook but was filled with so much venom. “The horrible bastards that turn to rituals and blood sacrifices in favor of magical powers!?”
Mr. Cargo pants made no attempt to move, only stared Bora straight in the eyes with an unreadable expression.
“So what if I am?” He answered.
Lucy felt her lips turn into a frown.
“Then you’re worse than me!” The man laughed maniacally, waving his knife around as he spoke. “Why bother saving this chick with magic earned by bloodlust? Wait…” He gasped dramatically looking at Lucy and then back at Mr. Cargo pants.
“Oh…” he cackled this time, using a shaky hand to clutch his side. “You probably need her right? For another sacrifice?”
As he continued with his dumb speach Lucy felt her patience slipping. She bit her lip, tugging on the rope once again with no success. She growled, now desperate enough to be pulling against the weight of a freaking Camel.
“Let’s make a deal, hm?” Bora held the knife to his mouth in thought. “I’ll let you take her for just a bit of cash. I’m sure you and your demon friends would love such delicate, pure hearted prey right? Blah Blah Blah Blah-”
Lucy tuned him out and her pink-haired savior still made no move to attack, only balling his fists and taking deep breaths. She understood… the need to prove him wrong… to just shut him up! Which was what she was planning on doing! As soon as she got rid of this stupid rope-
Her savior lunged, slapping the knife out of the bandit's hand and catching him by the neck so quickly that Lucy had to blink, just to make sure she had actually witnessed that.
Bora struggled against his grip, clawing at his arm as he gasped for breath. “Y-you…” He coughed. “You monster!”
The pink haired boy dropped him, cracking his knuckles as Bora attempted to crawl away.
“Hit me with your best shot!” He screeched. “Monster!”
And that’s when Lucy’s attention was directed towards a flying blue blob. It took her a minute to realize that the blue blob was the cat previously perched atop her savior's head. She couldn’t help the small shriek that erupted from her throat as the cat landed directly in front of her, a look of pride overtaking its face.
“Hold on!” It cried, using its claws to slowly cut away at the thick rope. Lucy stood stock still, mouth wide as she watched a cat! a talking cat, free her from her ‘Camel Prison’...
This day just kept getting weirder and weirder.
She felt the rope loosen up and took that moment to slip her hands free.
She rubbed her wrists, absentmindedly thanking the (blue, flying, taking-) cat and zoning back in on the fight. Well… what she thought would be a fight. Instead, Lucy saw Mr. Cargo Pants kneeling by a tied up and unconscious Bora, checking his pulse with a bored look in his eyes.
The girl wanted to laugh at how quickly that ‘battle’ had ended. In fact, she did laugh! How could she not? Here was Bora, big bandit leader with unquestionable power over his 14 lakey’s, beaten black and blue after a fight that had barely even lasted a minute.
Pathetic.
Lucy was almost ashamed to have put her morals over her own safety. Taking on this guy would have been a sinch, the rest would have probably run away with their tails between their legs.
The girl released a breath, finally finished with her laughing fit. She wiped a tear from beneath her eye, grinning wide at her two saviors.
“You’ve got guts!” The cat… the blue, flying, talking cat.. Spoke. It spoke… Lucy felt her face twist in confusion.
“Thank you…?”
Mr. Cargo pants finished tying up the rest of the men and strode over to them, his arms crossed over his chest as he gave her a somewhat proud look. “Happy’s right y’know. I’ve never seen another girl in your situation stand up to their captor…” He paused before quietly adding. “Well maybe Erza but I doubt she’d get captured in the first place…”
“Happy’s?” Lucy questioned, raising her brow. “What do you mean?”
“That’s Happy.” He stated matter factly, pointing over to the flying cat- Holy Mavis, this would take some getting used to. It waved. Lucy numbly waved back.
Mr. Cargo Pants held out his hand in greeting. “And I’m Natsu!” Oh well that’s good, he’s got a name. Mr. Cargo Pants was starting to seem a bit bland based on his earlier performance. Maybe she’d just call him Fire Freak, pyromaniac for short?
“Hey Natsu.” The girl smiled kindly, getting over her initial shock and shaking his hand. He held onto her hand for longer than necessary, his grip strong. The pink-haired traveler held her gaze, dark onyx eyes practically burning into her soul. His calloused hand gave her own one last squeeze before he let go, looking around as if nothing just happened.
“What're you doing this far out in the desert anyways?”
Lucy blinked, her brain taking a minute to compute after his strange display of… comradery? “I was… Traveling.” She admitted.
“With them?” Natsu and Happy blinked, looking back at the pile of motionless body’s. Finally the boy turned back to her, shaking his head and clicking his teeth. “Man, you need to get yourself some better travel companions.”
“N-no!” She barked. “I was kidnapped while traveling! Are you an idiot!”
“Well why didn’t you just say so?”
Lucy ground her teeth in frustration. One more word out of this man’s mouth and she’d be wanted for murder. She rolled her eyes. What a scatter brain.
“Well, thank you for saving me.” She settled with, surveying the litter of body’s decorating the wide desert floor. “Can I ask you to direct me towards the closest town?”
Natsu nodded his head, pointing in a direction. “We’re actually headed to one right now. Care to join?”
“... Sure!” Lucy agreed after a bit of hesitation. She turned around and untied her very important pouch from her precious Camel Captor.
“Thanks for keeping these safe, I guess.” She said to it. The camel snorted out a noise of disinterest as Lucy stroked it’s neck.
Natsu let out a snort, turning away and whistling casually as Lucy sent him a hard glare. She may have been forcefully tied to and painfully dragged across the desert by this Camel, but still, she felt a sense of comradery between them. She was going to miss him…
As Lucy turned to leave, the camel let out a large glob of spit, barely missing her head. The girl shrieked and ran to catch up to a curious Natsu.
She takes it back. That damn animal won't be missed. Not one bit.
#fairytail natsu#fairy tail#lucy fairy tail#fairy tail happy#nalu#nalufanfic#fairy tail official art#fairy tail fanfiction#lucy heartifilla#natsu dragneel#natsu x lucy#fairy tail au
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A Birthday to Remember
Aged up characters!! All in college!! Contains strong language, sexual content, drugs, alcohol and a lot of partying!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY KENNY!! YOU ARE MY COMFORT CHARACTER AND I LOVE YOU!!
Ps my request are open guys so send me my way!
"Same shit different day as far as I'm concerned, dudes." Kenny sighed, his birthday was something he never did much for.
"But dude, it's your eighteenth! You're only this young once! We gotta go celebrate!" Kyle explained, patting his friend on the back.
Birthdays were a weird subject for Kenny. To him it was just another day, he never got gifts or cards or showered with affection, his family would've gave him a verbal happy birthday and that was about it. The only people who always gave him something were Karen, his friends and y/n. I mean, he was reborn every time he died, so was it even really his birthday anymore?
He just didn't get the hype, if it was someone else's birthday, that was completely different, but Kenny had hardly celebrated any of his birthdays, so why start now?
However, if birthday wishes were real, which he highly doubted, then maybe he'd finally be able to call you his girlfriend. For two years you guys had been friends with benefits on and off, and it meant everything to Kenny. He loves holding your body close to his, smelling your scent on his pillow after you'd left, he loved it, he loved you, but he was terrified you would reject him and you would no longer want to be around him, he didn't want to weird you out and push you away from whatever the fuck this relationship was, so he was happy enough to be your fuck buddy, if it meant he could at least pretend you were both together.
You stood in your room, putting the finishing touches on Kenny's gift, you had made him a scrap book, full of photos of you both, screen shots of your group chats with inside jokes and funny statements in it, bus tickets from when you guys took a trip further afield, the ticket stumps from the cinema when you both went to see that shitty horror movie together that was more of a comedy than anything and finally a flower, the very same one Kenny picked for you when you were young, you had pressed and preserved it perfectly. You sprayed the last page with your perfume and placed a kiss beside it, along with a picture of you both hugging one another and a proposition for him written in your cursive writing. You planned to give it to him at the end of the night.
You finished to get ready, your makeup and hair ready as your hands smoothed over your outfit. You knew Kenny's eyes would pop from his brain when he seen you. You wore a lace, black corset top and a checked pleaded skirt that stopped just below your ass, fishnet tights on your legs and a pair of black high heel boots.
Kyle: We're all headed to the club now, meet you guys outside
Y/N: I'm just about to leave mine, see y'all soon!
You put your phone into your leather jacket pocket, touched up your red lipstick and took two shots of vodka before putting the scrapbook into your large handbag, and leaving the house.
The walk to the club was pretty short, and as you approached you heard all your friends laughing and shouting outside. You smiled to yourself, before seeing Kenny. He didn't have his orange parka on, he wore a flannel shirt and a band tee with blue ripped skinny jeans. You swore your breath caught in your throat as you made your way over to the group.
Kenny's eyes widened upon seeing you, between the cleavage you were showing and how short your skirt was, he didn't know where to look.
"Damn, girl! You look fucking hot!" He exclaimed, his hands then clutching his mouth as he realised what he had just said out loud in front of everyone.
"Thank, Kenny." You said, a small smile on your face your cheeks hot due to how much you were blushing.
"Come on! Let's get in there and get our party on!" Stan shouted, your large group of friends whooping and cheering in response as you all made your way inside.
The nightclub was huge, dark black walls with lights and lasers flashing everywhere, and a mixture of cringey 2000s throwbacks and dance music drummed through your ears.
You went straight to the bar to get drinks, feeling an arm snake around your waist from behind you. You knew it was Kenny, you knew his touch from anywhere.
"You gonna let me see what's under those clothes later, hmm?" He whispered into your ear, a smirk planted firmly on his face as you turned to look at him.
"If you play you cards right then maybe I will. Since it's you're birthday." You teased back, ordering both of you a large vodka and red bull each.
"Happy birthday, welcome to the eighteen club." You purred as Kenny placed a kiss on your cheek.
"In return for buying me a drink, I've got a fat ass blunt rolled, would you care to join me in a smoke?" He said, bowing, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it.
"Well, since you asked so nicely." You replied, a smile on your face as you both made your way to the smoking area, your friends were already on their way to being tipsy, and you guys had some serious catching up to do.
You both giggled, sipping at your drinks and passing the blunt between you both, Kenny's arm wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you close to his side. He didn't trust other guys, especially in nightclubs, and with you looking like a full three course meal, he was going to make sure you were protected from any creeps that may be out there.
"I can't wait to give you your present later." You blurted out, the excitement of seeing his face getting too much for you.
Before he could inquire further you both heard your names being called.
"Y/N! KENNY! OUR SONG IS ON!" It was Stan and Kyle, jumping up and down, waving their hands in the air.
"LETS GO DANCE!" They shouted in unison, you both laughing at your friends.
You took Kenny's hand in yours, leading him to the dance floor inside. The place was buzzing, people taking drugs, those so drunk they were skipping the queue for the bathroom so they didn't throw their guts up on the dance floor, or on someone else!
Kenny swore you looked angelic, as your hips began moving, his own joining in, your bodies close to one another. He swore if this kept up he'd be skipping the queue for the bathroom too, but not to puke, to finish himself off before the torment of watching you dance and grind up against him became too much.
"You're such a fucking tease, Princess. And you know how I feel about teasing." Kenny growled lowly in your ear, his voice making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, god if you could take him right now you would, but not before giving him his gift.
Mr Brightside was playing as you all sang along, Kyle shouting for you all at the bar.
"To friends, relationships and having awesome lives together!" He shouted as you all agreed.
"CHEERS!" You all shouted, downing the shot of Sambuca he had bought for you all.
You all quickly made your way back to the dance floor, you all danced together, laughing and giggling all the while.
"Hey, when am I getting my present?" Kenny cooed in your ear, a smirk on his face.
"As soon as we get home." You replied nonchalantly, shooting him a wink. You had just confirmed that you were in fact bringing him back to your dorm room with you, and that could only mean one thing.
"I'm excited." He teased, both his hands on your hips as you both danced together.
"Hey guys, wanna do some drugs?" Eric asked, you both rolling your eyes.
"And where did you get drugs, fat boy?" Kyle snickered, Stan laughing at his comment.
"I got ecstasy off that guy over there." He said pointing to a guy who was in the middle of a drug deal, all of your faces dropping.
"Fuck it, I'm game." Kenny replied as Eric handed him a pink and purple pill.
"Happy fuckin' birthday to me!" Kenny exclaimed before popping the pill in his mouth and gulping down the rest of his drink, and the rest of you followed.
About an hour after you had all ingested your first ecstasy pill and all of you were beyond fucked up. Drinking straight vodka like it was water, shots were far too easy and you guys had smoked two full packets of cigarettes, even Kyle who didn't smoke was smoking like he was an everyday user. Kenny's weed didn't last long either, all of you passing blunts around like it was nothing.
"Dude, have I ever told you how much I fucking love you?" Stan said to Kyle, both of them proclaiming how much they all loved each other and you thought that maybe this was the time for Kenny's gift.
You opened your bag, your vision feeling blurry like everything was going too quickly. And you pulled out the orange and blue scrapbook you had made just for him.
It said on the front of it, 'Y/n and Kenny's crazy adventures' and you smiled as you tapped Kenny on the shoulder.
He broke his conversation with Eric and looked at you, his eyes widening as he seen you holding out a book to him.
"Is this my gift?" He asked, a smile on his face. Kyle and Stan moved closer to see what it was as Eric did the same.
He began flipping through the pages, his smile never faltering once. Pictures of you both when you were kids, dressed up as super heroes, princesses, you name it, it was in there. Pictures of all of you together, all of you smiling in silence as he neared the last page,by our heartbeat increasing.
He landed on the last page, a picture of you both cuddled in bed together after the first time you had both hooked up together, and you'd lost your virginity to him, along with all the other little momentos you had kept. His eyes scanned the words that adorned the page, his cheeks turning bright red.
"Is that even a question? Of course I'll go out with you! I've been wanting to ask you forever, I just thought you didn't like me like that!" Kenny rambled, pulling you into a tight hug, you flush against his chest as you leaned up to place a chaste kiss on his lips.
"I never told you but... in that photo there." You said, pointing to the one of you both in bed.
"You took my virginity." You said, your own cheeks bright red now, as his eyes widened at you, your friends already gone back to talking about a lot of random shit.
"Seriously? I was your first?" He asked, his ego being boosted by the second.
"You were my first, you're my everything, Ken. I love you. I always have, I just knew you didn't like labels and I didn't want you to put a stop to us hooking up because my feelings got the better of me." You said, being completely honest with him, you were never as glad to get it off your chest as you were now.
"I was scared to admit to you for the same reasons." He said lowly, a smile fixed firmly on his face.
"Come here, gimme a kiss." He said, his arms wrapping round your waist once more, both of your lips meeting in a flurry of passion.
This really was the best birthday that Kenny had ever had, and he would cherish it forever, just like he vowed from that moment on to cherish you forever too, and never ever let you go. Not in life or in death.
#kenny mccormick#kenny mccormick smut#kenny mccormick x reader#kenny south park#eric cartman#stan marsh#kyle brovlofski#stan south park#kyle south park#south park
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Behind Closed Doors
pairing: mark lee x reader
genre: fluff
summary: mark lee is a member of the popular dance crew on campus, dream. he brings you to meet the other members and accidentally lets you glimpse the feelings he has for you.
cw: n/a
~originally posted on AO3~
Mark watched as you smoothed down your skirt, examining yourself in the mirror. Your hair fell in gentle waves, kissing your shoulders.
You turned towards him, his breath catching as he beheld the way the eyeliner brought out the sweetness of your eyes, “Do I look okay?” you asked.
Okay? Mark thought to himself. Okay was so incorrect. Stunning. Beautiful. Breathtaking. Okay was an insult when compared to the way you were shining.
But he couldn’t say that out loud; you were just friends. He wouldn’t mess up the friendship by telling you how perfect you were to him even when you were begrudgingly opening the door to your dorm room in your ratty t-shirt and baggy sweats when he came to bother you too early in the morning. So instead he settled on saying, “Yes.”
A pout formed on your lips but he stopped you from turning back to the mirror, “Come on, we don’t wanna be late.”
You were meeting his dance group today and you were very clearly intimidated. Sure they’d reached incredible heights with the views they’d wracked up on YouTube and TikTok. They’d even had TV performances and been asked to dance with stars during their concerts. But to Mark they were just a bunch of dorks who sometimes set aside their stupidity long enough to actually put on a few good performances — nothing to be intimidated by.
“It’ll be fine,” he said laughing at you as you twirled your hair nervously.
He watched your delicate finger twist a soft strand around in repeated spirals, running through so often some stray pieces came off around your finger.
Mark grabbed the fabric of your sleeve, gently tugging your arm down and the finger out of your hair with it. “Seriously, you need to relax, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“I know, I know,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him.
You fell into an easy silence, the only sound the soft hush of your steps on the floor.
He could tell you were still nervous. He watched your small hands fiddle with the fabric of your skirt, twist the rings on your fingers, brush through and straighten your hair. He wished he had the balls to tell you how beautiful your were. How it wasn’t what you were wearing. It wasn’t what makeup look you’d decided upon that day. It wasn’t how your hair looked. It wasn’t how you looked at all. It was just you. There was a glow about you as a person. Sure sometimes the clothes, the hair, the makeup, it enhanced that. But when you took all that away you were still as beautiful as before.
“Y/N,” his mouth started before his brain had caught up.
But the two of you had reached your destination — a classroom outside of class time where Mark and his teammates would be reviewing footage to note areas of improvement and you’d been invited to tag along because you were a fan. Or so Mark told you. He conveniently left out the relentless pestering from his friends to finally let them meet the girl he would frequently ditch them for. No matter how many times he told them it wasn’t like that, both he and they knew how he felt about you even if he never said it out loud.
Mark could hear the six voices inside fighting for dominance over each other. Leave it to Dream to generate enough noise to hear them down the hallway.
Your eyes met his as you both stopped in front of the door. He could see the nerves in them. He knew you weren’t the best around new people and big social functions tended to give you more anxiety than excitement. Perhaps it was the fact that he saw a twinge of genuine fear in your eyes that had his mouth opening before he could process the words he let loose.
“Y/N,” he started, “They’re going to love you, seriously, you have nothing to worry about.”
He sighed at the small restrained smile you gave him, not really letting the words sink in.
He reached out to tentatively hold your wrist, stopping your hands from wringing together. His touch was feather light but he could still feel the softness of your exposed skin.
“Y/N you’re talented, smart, driven, and beautiful. You’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met and I wish you could see what I see in you in yourself. You’re about to walk into a room full of doofuses who literally have half a brain cell between the six of them. They sometimes dance well, but I promise you they’re nothing to be intimidated by.”
It was then that Mark listened to what was around him.
Complete silence.
Internally groaning, he turned toward the view he was dreading but none the less expecting to see.
The classroom door was open, six faces were all peering out from the doorway. All wearing an identical shit-eating grin.
It was Haechan who started, “Jaemin you are talented and so so beautiful.”
“Chenle you’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met,” Jaemin continued, the male he mentioned making a dramatic show of delicately taking a hold of Jisung’s wrists. Renjun and Jeno made kissy faces, lips over-puckered in a way that was almost grotesque, at Mark.
Mark could feel the heat in his ears as he turned back toward you, “Y/N meet Dream.”
He would have been so much more embarrassed had you not been beaming at him with the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen.
#fluff#nct dream#university au#nct fluff#nct dream fluff#mark lee#mark lee x reader#mark lee x you#mark lee x y/n#nct x reader#nct dream x reader
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I Wish For You Every Time
First Half
Read it on ao3 instead
The drive was so much longer than he was used to.
Normally, Steve didn’t even really bother to look around, and he kind of faded out while he was driving. He had taken these roads every day of his life, he knew them like the back of his hand. On the rare occasion he did look out the window as he drove, he was usually caught up in the simple beauty of Hawkins.
The sloping hills, the big dark trees, the endless expanses of farm land. The town, with people who always waved when they caught your eye, store fronts with big bright signs, and kids on bikes.
Steve was Hawkins blood. Born there, raised there, lived his whole life knowing he was probably going to die there too. His family had their own section in the cemetery for Christ’s sake.
It had never really bothered him before. Steve had always taken comfort in how easy that all sounded. Life had gotten pretty strange in the last few years, but that inevitability of a small town existence was the soothing balm that smoothed over those rough patches.
Well, normally it was soothing. Right now it felt like a death sentence.
Steve looked out the window, and all he saw was a tomb. He looked out the window and all he saw was the same thing he was always going to see. There was nothing surprising, nothing new. Nothing like when he was with Eddie, who would drag him all around trying to find the most interesting things that he had never seen.
But Eddie was gone now, and Steve’s entire life was going to be these same sights forever and ever.
He clenched his hands tighter around the wheel, banishing the sudden inexplicable need to drive his car off the road. He couldn’t do that. Robin was in the car with him.
It was mildly terrifying that Robin’s presence was the only reason Steve wasn’t wrapping his Beemer around one of those trees he used to love so much.
“I can hear you thinking,” Robin said softly, reaching over and turning the radio off. It was too much to ask her to drop it, or let this go. His soulmate was a meddler, and Steve knew it was best to just go along with her.
But he just couldn’t bring himself to do it this time.
“Would’ve figured you’d see the smoke coming out of my ears before you heard my brain trying to work,” Steve joked, mentally begging for her to just go along with him. Make a joke, crack a smile, let him forget that his heart was still breaking.
Not a chance.
“Do you want to stay?”
If she had asked him yesterday, his answer would have been immediate. If she had even asked him an hour ago, Steve would know what to say.
He didn't want to leave Hawkins, he wanted Eddie to stay. He wanted them all to stay exactly where they were.
But he had just watched Eddie drive off into the sunset like it was nothing, and the rest were going to be following soon enough, and his whole world view had flipped on its head. A part of Steve had been so sure it wasn’t happening, so positive that Eddie would realize that he didn’t want to go at the last second.
Now Steve was being confronted with the full experience of not seeing Eddie ever again, and suddenly he couldn’t remember why he wanted to stay in Hawkins so badly.
“I don’t know,” He admitted, because lying to Robin was a stupid plan. She could read him better than anyone in the world, “I don’t- I can’t go anywhere else Robin,”
And wasn’t that the truth? Steve wouldn’t survive anywhere but Hawkins. Here he had a reputation, a name that still carried something when people said it. It wasn’t much, but without that, there wasn’t anything all that special about him. Without that notoriety that still hung around, Steve was just another small town loser.
Wasn’t that pathetic?
“Why can't you go?” Robin pressed, and Steve knew in an instant he could never tell her. Not only would she not believe him, she would be determined to prove him wrong, and Steve didn’t need to deal with that particular can of worms.
“Because I’m not like the rest of you. I’m not destined for greatness,”
He had meant to say it as a joke, but there was too much bitterness carried in the words, too much reality. He was destined for a small town life, nothing special, nothing important. Sure he might end up as the biggest fish again, but there was no escaping his small pond.
“Maybe that’s because you already got there,” Robin observed, cutting through Steve’s thoughts in the easy way she always did, “Seems to me like you’re already pretty great.”
“Thanks Robs,” Steve said with a tiny smile. He reached out and she took his free hand in both of hers, smacking his knuckles with a silly kiss.
Well, he hadn’t lost her yet at least. That would probably hurt even more than losing Eddie.
“Oh, don’t thank me yet,” Robin said to herself, and Steve’s brow furrowed. He turned to look at his best friend, and she turned her head towards the window, tapping out rhythms against the back of his hand in the way she did when she was hiding something.
“What’s wrong?” Steve asked as they pulled into Loch Nora. She shrugged, still not looking at him. He glanced away from Robin and over to his house.
When he saw the front lawn, Steve stopped short, slamming on the brake and jerking them both forward.
“Jesus Christ!” Robin exclaimed, dropping Steve’s hand to rub at her chest where the seat belt had cut into her skin, “What the hell?”
Steve didn’t respond to her, couldn't have even if he wanted to. His mouth was dry, and his mind was blank, and his heart was jackrabbiting so fast Steve was sure it was about to jump out of his chest.
Because there were seven bikes on his lawn. And the kids were there, running around playing some game.
And Eddie was the one chasing them around.
“Steve? Honey?” Robin probed, putting her hand on his arm.
“Why is he here?” Steve whispered, unable to speak any louder.
It had been hard enough to watch Eddie leave the first time. Now he was going to make Steve do it again?!
“Dunno,” Robin lied, acting as if she wasn’t lying. She shrugged and settled back in her seat, doing nothing to hide the smile on her face, “Why don’t we go see what he wants? Maybe he forgot something,”
Oh.
This was a set up.
But for what?
Steve gave Robin a narrow eyed glare, pressing the gas again and smoothly sliding into his driveway like he had never stopped. The kids noticed him pulling in and began to wave, still tripping over each other and cackling loud enough Steve could hear them through the windows.
Normally the sound would make him smile, but Steve’s mouth felt like it was going to permanently be stuck in a thin straight line.
He was going to have to let go of Eddie. Again. He was going to have to break his own damn heart. Again.
Steve wasn’t exactly sure what he had done to deserve it, but there was no doubt in his mind that God was punishing him for something.
Whatever. He’d survive. Maybe.
With that particularly dark thought, Steve yanked his seatbelt off, kicking his car door open and letting it slam shut with a satisfying noise. Robin got out much quieter, quickly moving to his side as the others began to race over.
“Steve!” Eddie shouted, not even bothering to pause as he picked Steve up in a bone crushing hug and spun them both around.
Steve startled and initially began to try and pull away, but when it was clear Eddie wasn’t letting go anytime soon, Steve gave into the temptation. He buried his face in Eddie’s shoulder with a soft laugh, hugging back and taking in a deep breath.
There it was. Motor oil and 2-in-1 shampoo. The same brand that Steve had just bought a bottle of, even though he would never even dream of using that crap in his hair. The bottle wasn’t in his bathroom, it was buried deep in his closet, sitting in a box alongside a bloodstained denim vest, and a few of Eddie’s shirts that he had shamelessly stolen right after Eddie told them all he was leaving.
It was the smell. Steve would still have Eddie’s voice through the phone, but he hadn’t wanted to lose that smell just yet.
It was Eddie Smell, a scent that made the tension in his shoulders fade away, and made him feel safe no matter what. Steve fisted his hands into Eddie’s shirt, holding him even closer and forcing back the stupid tears that were starting to prick in his eyes again as he took a deep breath and lost himself in it.
“Eddie,” Steve practically sighed, unable to let go. He pulled back just enough to look at Eddie’s face.
His eyes were sparkling, and his cheeks were flushed. Steve wanted to kiss him. He was so close. One foot of space, just a little nudge forward.
“What are you doing here?” He asked instead.
“I forgot something,” Eddie stated with an absolutely gorgeous grin, keeping his arms around Steve too.
“I think I’ll just go grab that right now,” Robin said with an innocent little whistle, skipping away.
“Thanks, Buckley,” Eddie called after her, and she turned, walking backwards as she gave a silly two fingered salute.
“Both of you thanking me before you should,” Robin said, shaking her head. She faced forward again, disappearing into Steve’s house without any explanation.
“What’s going on?” Steve asked, not liking the silence that followed his question. When it came to his kids, silence was exceptionally bad. He looked around Eddie, and, very conveniently, all of them seemed to be preoccupied looking at the trees or the clouds in the sky.
Unacceptable.
“Dustin,” Steve barked, startling the boy into making eye contact, “Tell me what’s going on,”
“Why me?” Dustin groaned, and Steve smirked.
“Because you can’t keep secrets,” He replied. It was true, he had never met a kid who had more trouble keeping his mouth shut. He had told Will about his surprise party not even two hours after Mike had suggested the idea to all of them.
“Mayfield,” Eddie said almost immediately after Steve’s explanation. Max burst into action, smacking Dustin’s shin with her closest cane. He howled in pain and hopped on one foot, giving her a dirty look.
“Say nothing. Put your hands over your ears if you have to,” She instructed him, glancing away from Dustin for just a second only to give her babysitter a completely unremorseful shrug, “Sorry Steve,”
“What are you doing? What did you forget at my house?” Steve demanded, releasing Eddie just so he could put his hands on his hips. It wasn’t quite as effective when it was Eddie or the other adults, but Steve’s Mom Pose did still carry some weight.
“Hopefully something you’re gonna like?” Eddie offered, finally stepping back to give Steve space. He was playing with his hair the way he did when he was nervous, glancing up at Steve from behind his locks with those beautiful browns.
Steve didn’t want to make Eddie feel bad, but he was also beyond confused, and the whiplash of emotions hitting him all afternoon was more than intense. Just as he was about to interrogate further, Argyle’s van roared into Loch Nora, horn beeping and radio turned up to maximum volume.
“Sorry we’re late, Argyle got lost,” Jonathan said as he climbed out. Steve wasn’t sure how they could be late coming to his damn house when he hadn’t even invited him, but he just needed to accept the fact that he was the only one not in the know right now.
“Your corn roads are confusing,” Argyle complained as they walked over together, “Did you tell him yet?”
“Well I would if everyone would just stop interrupting,” Eddie said with a roll of his eyes, as if he had any right to be annoyed right now.
“What is going on?” Steve groaned, over the theatrics. He had been expecting to come home and drown his sorrows in cheap wine and terrible movies. Now the object of those sorrows was standing right in front of him, acting like he had any right to be there.
“I told you, I forgot something,” Eddie repeated and Steve laughed incredulously.
“What?! What could you have possibly forgotten that was this important?” Steve asked, throwing up his hands. At this rate, he was just going to open the door and let Eddie take whatever he damn wanted from the stupid house.
“You.”
What?
“What?” Steve asked, his voice almost too faint to be heard, all traces of anger vanishing.
“I forgot you,” Eddie stated, like that sentence made a lick of sense.
A commotion at the door grabbed their attention. Robin was standing on the front step, a giant cardboard box in her hands, and two of his duffle bags at his feet.
“Hey! Jackasses! Stop ogling and help me put this stuff in Eddie’s van,” She called.
The kids jumped into action, running over to take things from her and start loading the back of Eddie’s van with Steve’s things. Jonathan and Argyle walked past Steve and Eddie to help them, but Nancy stopped at their sides, holding out a folder that looked just like the one she had given Eddie.
“I put in a bunch of applications for you. You got into Hunter, Pace, and Hofstra. Sorry I forged your signature,” Nancy apologized, not sounding sorry in the slightest as she continued to leaf through the thick stack of papers and point things out, “I also included a whole section on community colleges, and some financial aid stuff that you can apply for. There’s also the same information I gave Eddie about jobs in towns around the city, but I think you should go to one of the three 4-years. They each have a really good education program that I think you would like,”
With that, Nancy stood on her tiptoes and kissed Steve’s cheek, handing over the folder and giving Eddie a raised eyebrow look.
“Remember what we talked about, Munson,” She teased in a warning tone, “This one is special, you treat him right,”
“Yes ma’am,” Eddie said with full seriousness.
And then Nancy was gone, inserting herself into the messy game of Car Jenga that the rest were playing and barking out orders left and right.
“I don’t understand,” Steve said helplessly. At first he had been up in the air, watching as thoughts lazily drifted past him. Now he was hurtling towards Earth as his mind raced for all the possibilities, all the different things that might be happening, all the different reasons Eddie might have thought he was forgetting Steve.
He had one idea that he really wanted to be right, but it was insane. Completely, wholly, utterly insane. And if he let himself think that he was right and he turned out to be wrong, Steve just knew he would never recover. He would hit the ground with a crash, breaking all of his bones and losing any ability to ever breathe again.
Luckily, Eddie would never let him fall for that long.
“I can’t stay in Hawkins. I just can’t. I tried, but it just- there’s too much,” Eddie started, waving a hand around his head as if that explained what ‘too much’ was, “But I kept trying. I kept trying because I knew I couldn't stay, but I also knew I couldn’t lose you.”
“Eddie-”
“I mean, that’s crazy isn’t it?” Eddie said cutting Steve off with a nervous little giggle and diving right into full ramble, “It’s totally bonkers. But it’s true. I wake up, and you’re the first thing I think about. I go to sleep, and there you are, the last thought of my day. I always want to know what you think about things, and I always want to be the one that makes you laugh, because you have the most wonderful laugh I’ve ever heard, and I want to be the one you bitch to about everything, and the thought of not getting to see you every single day made my heart hurt so bad I was sure I was dying.”
It was all starting to sound like a confession, but Steve couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. He was still kind of convinced he was about to wake up in bed, and all of this would just be a dream.
“So I figured it out. I can’t stay, but I also can’t leave without you,” Eddie declared, confirming all of Steve’s greatest and worst fears.
Eddie was still leaving.
He was leaving, but he wanted Steve to go with him.
Here it was. A perfect ticket out of Hawkins with the guy that Steve wanted more than he had ever wanted anyone before. It was everything he could ever want being handed to him on a silver plate…
And Steve was shaking his head no.
“I-” Steve paused, mentally screaming at himself for saying no. He wanted to say yes more than anything, but the idea of leaving today was completely incomprehensible, “I can’t just leave. I- you- what about my job?”
“Oh you quit when I did,” Robin called out, revealing that the rest had definitely been eavesdropping the entire time. They were just standing around the van now, openly staring and watching to see what Steve said.
“No I didn’t,” Steve argued back. As far as he knew he was on shift tomorrow at noon.
“Ahhhhh, yeah you did. Or I did for you,” She snorted, laughing at her own memories, “And ‘we’ told Keith that he was a creepy pervert who could go fuck himself, so you’re really not getting that job back,”
No job tying him here anymore. So why was Steve still shaking his head no?
“The kids?” Steve wondered aloud.
Yes. That’s why he was saying no. He had seven nuggets here who depended on him for rides, and advice, and support.
Never mind that they were getting old enough to drive on their own, and Steve could give them pretty much everything they needed over the phone. Steve still just couldn’t up and abandon them without a second thought.
He looked at his little group of brats that really weren’t so little anymore, searching their faces for even a hint of hesitation. If he saw even one of them wasn’t okay with this, he was saying no and sticking to it.
But they were all just smiling like they already knew what he was going to do.
“You know I think we might just survive without you,” Mike deadpanned. Max elbowed him, and Will rolled his eyes at his best friend’s lack of emotional intelligence.
“And, Eddie promised to make sure you call us each personally at least once a week, with one big group call on Sundays,” Lucas tacked on, bounding over and adding one more sheet to the top of Steve’s folder, “We put together this chart for you,”
Steve looked down at the light green construction paper. It was a drawing of a tree adorned with star stickers and little stick figures of him and the party on different branches with the days of the week written on them. The words ‘MOMS PHONE TREE’ were printed bright and bold at the top, and Will and Erica’s signatures were both at the bottom. Each of the kids had taken a different day, except for Lucas and Erica, who were sharing Saturday.
“They’re the age we were when we started dealing with all of this, so if something does go wrong, they’ll be able to handle it until we get home,” Jonathan said with a shrug, pulling Steve’s attention away from the paper, “Plus, everything is over, right El?”
She paused, letting her eyes dart around for a second before turning to Steve with one of her quiet little smiles.
“Nothing bad,” She reassured him, “We are safe now,”
They were safe.
The statement meant more than just safe from Upside Down Shenanigans, more than safe from having to fight monsters that lurked in the dark. They didn’t need Steve to protect them now, and they wouldn’t be the reason he held himself back.
“I told you, they’re not babies anymore,” Nancy said, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. She was giving Steve one of those pin-him-down-and-examine-him looks, the kind she always gave him when she knew he was trying to hide, “They’ll be okay,”
“Besides you guys are coming to visit, obviously,” Dustin said, his stupid irritating tone grating on Steve’s nerves even as it made him smile, “All holidays, my birthday, and at least two weeks over the summer. And we’re coming to you too.”
Not losing them forever then. Not forgetting to keep in touch. When Steve had been on the other side of this, he had been sure that they would stop wanting to call.
Now that he was the one who might be going, he couldn’t imagine ever wanting to lose touch with any of them.
But Steve was still shaking his head, and he had no idea why.
“I can’t. I mean, I can’t just go. That’s crazy, that’s-”
“Steve,”
Eddie’s voice dragged Steve’s attention to him, making him go silent and still. Any nerves Eddie had been having before had magically evaporated into thin air. He cupped Steve’s face, mouth turning up ever so slightly into a cocky smirk when Steve gasped as his fingers touched his cheek.
“You can stay if you really want to. I’m not gonna tie you up and throw you in my trunk,” Eddie teased, pausing before his voice got even softer, words meant just for the two of them, “But I have a feeling you don’t want to stay, and you’re just too scared to admit it.”
It was the truth, but it was too raw, too real. It exposed the deepest darkest parts of him. That underneath the bravado and the stupid levels of courage- Steve was afraid. He was afraid of being alone, but he was also afraid of not being alone.
He had been alone pretty much all his life, and the idea of having people, only to eventually lose them, was just petrifying.
“Also, I stole your dandelion wish. Sorry,” Eddie added, completely throwing Steve for a loop.
“My dandelion?” He questioned, not following Eddie’s train of thought.
“Yep! I stole your wish, and I’m really hoping mine comes true, so you’re gonna have to take yours back,” Eddie replied.
“...What’d you wish for?” Steve asked, his heart racing with the possibilities.
“I wished for you not to punch me in the face after I do this,” Eddie answered, bringing his other hand up before capturing Steve in a kiss.
It was a chaste little thing, barely more than a press of their lips. As far as first kisses go, it was the most innocent one he had ever had. When Eddie pulled away, there was a pretty blush starting on his cheeks, and the sweetest smile Steve had ever seen.
Steve was a total addict, and one taste of this drug was enough to have him hooked for life.
He laughed softly, throwing caution to the wind as he wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck and dragged him into a proper kiss. It was way messier than their first one, and he could hear the kids moaning and whining about how ‘gross’ it was, but Steve couldn't remember ever being happier than he was at this moment.
Eddie was leaving.
Eddie was never going to stay. He had always known that. But that didn’t mean Steve had to be left behind.
Eventually they had to come up for air, and they broke apart with a sigh, pressing their foreheads together as Steve let his eyes slip shut, contentment washing over his entire body like a cool breeze.
“So what do you say?” Eddie joked, already knowing the answer.
“I say that I’m glad you stole my wish,” Steve whispered against his lips, already leaning back in.
Tag List: @alyelf @ceaselessly-watching @dbquills @knightofthieves @b-icetea @henderdads
#I fixed it :)#Steve harrington#Eddie munson#steddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steddie drabble#robin buckley#Steve and robin#platonic soulmates steve and robin#platonic stobin#Nancy wheeler#fruity four#the fruity four#st#stranger things#st 4#stranger things 4#Liam speaks up#Writing(withacapitalW)
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00:56
“Crusty nails? Yep.”
“Skinny fat? Tick that off.”
“Thighs that spread whenever I sit? Sure.”
“Scars from when I was-“
“What are you going on about?” You heard your husband shuffling over to your side of the bed with a worrisome look on his face.
“Oh… it’s nothing much,” you said nonchalantly, “go back to sleep, darling. It’s nothing much for you to be concerned of.” You smiled, but he could easily see though your poorly put-on facade, and you knew that very well.
“Love,” he sat up, hands reached out for yours, his thumbs caressing the back of your hands, “what’s wrong?”
Your voice is a whisper, your breathing heavy as you leaned into him, the warm weighted blanket acting as a shield from the cold wind from the air conditioner.
“You do remember that I went out with my friends yesterday for a meetup, right?” His short hum of recognition prompted you to continue. “When we were out having a good time in a cafe, our topic of conversation suddenly shifted to talking about our accomplishments - no, sorry, their accomplishments.
“One of them is a rising model, and just got signed under a rather renown modeling agency. The other one got promoted to a manager from a supervisor, and the other just started their PhD.
“I just feel like I’m lacking in everything. Beauty? Not me. Brains? Definitely not.” You chuckled emotionlessly. “What am I even remotely good at?”
You sighed, and felt tears well up in your eyes; your voice threatened to break if you continued any longer. You wiped away the stray tear that found it’s way down your cheeks, and glanced upwards to the ceiling, feeling your limbs slowly go weak the longer you stayed in your husband’s warm embrace.
“It’s always them and how they’re doing, how good they’re doing, isn’t it?” His soft voice pierced the silence, his rough hands gently caressing your hair. You felt your tears flow down your cheeks as you nodded, your back of your right hand laying flat against your forehead, your eyes shut close in an attempt to stop the tears.
“It’s always this feeling,” he said, looking into your eyes deeply, “this feeling of not being good enough, isn’t it? This feeling that there are always people who are better than you, no matter how much you tried.”
You remained silent, feeling your muscle relax under his constant touch as he continued.
“Do you ever tell people the bad experiences that you go, or rather, went through?”
Surprised by this sudden and rather unrelated question, you shook your head uncertainly.
“We all have our own battles that we face, love. It’s hard to talk about these things even with people you trust. It’s easy to look at them and think they’ve got everything figured out, like they’re walking on this smooth, glittering path while we’re trudging through mud.”
Sniffling, you whispered back. “But sometimes, it feels like they’re untouched by any of the chaos. It’s not hard to feel inadequate, you know?”
“I do, too well even for my own liking,” he chuckled, “but one thing I do know is that everyone’s battling their own storm. We’re all captains of ships, sailing through unpredictable seas. Just because we can’t see the tempest from the shore doesn’t mean they’re not there.
“We’re all writing stories that are far more intricate than they appear at first glance. It’s all those hidden chapters that truly define our narratives.”
You sighed, then sat up to face your husband. Every time you look at him, you always wonder how it’s possible for someone to hold so much love within the depths of their gaze. His eyes hold a love so deep that as though it’s a sanctuary, a place where you can surrender yourself, your fears, and let his love embrace you fully.
“I wish,” you whispered under your breath, not looking into his eyes for you were afraid that you couldn’t hold your tears in, “I wish I could see myself the way you do.”
“Love,” he said, holding your hands, “look at me.”
You glanced up at him; he bathed in the delicate luminescence of the soft moon glow through the window, assuming an otherworldly presence, as if drawn from the tapestry of dreams.
“I wish I could gift you the mirror of my perception, to reveal the stunning masterpiece that you are. Every facet of your being, every little thing that lights up your eyes, is a marvel to me. All those scars, all those things you’re unsure about, I love them, because they’re part of you.
“Until then, know that my eyes only reflect the truth of your magnificence and beauty, my love.”
Your eyes glimmered, a fragile response to his words, as you managed a shaky whisper, “You always know how to say the right thing.”
He leaned in, drawing you into an embrace, an unspoken promise of his affection woven into the way he held you close. He whispered, “Because every word I speak to you is laced with the truth of my heart. Your laughter, your quirks, they’re melodies that echo in my soul.”
Your fingers clenched the edge of the blanket, knuckles turning white as your gaze flickered downward. A subtle quiver danced through your voice. “But what if I’m not good enough?” The vulnerability of your question hung in the air, the unspoken turmoil evident in the slight tremor of your lips.
He shifted closer on the bed, his movement a silent affirmation of his presence. His fingers found yours, intertwining gently, offering a reassuring squeeze. With a tender gaze that held you and nothing else, he softly replied, “Love, you’re more than enough. I promise you, every doubt you have is overshadowed by the incredible person you are.
“You are not just enough, you are immeasurable in your worth. In my eyes, you’re the sun that rises after the darkest night, casting away shadows and filling the world with warmth. My love, you’re more than enough for me, for us.”
He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against your knuckles.
“When I look at you, I see a universe of stars that shine uniquely. Your journey, your struggles, they’re part of what makes you breathtakingly you.”
As your breaths synchronised in the quiet intimacy of the room, he traced the outline of your hand with his thumb, a slight reassurance of his presence. “In your laughter, I find my joy; in your eyes, my universe unfolds,” he whispered, the air charged with tenderness. “and in the depths of my being, there is a love that’s boundless, a love that defies worlds.
“And, my dearest, I love you beyond measure.”
Your emotions, held back for so long, found release in the embrace of his arms. The weight of your fears, your doubts, spilled forth in silent tears, each droplet a testament to your vulnerability. He held you, offering a sanctuary of warmth and solace, sharing the unspoken language of comfort.
Eventually, as your sobs turned to soft exhausted breaths, a tranquil calm settled over you. Gently, he shifted, his touch as delicate as a whisper as his lips brushed against your forehead.
The night felt as though it had woven its tapestry around you, painting your form with a silvery luminescence. He tenderly whispered, “Goodnight, my love,” his words a final caress before he let your dreams carry your away.
#haikyuu comfort#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader comfort#haikyuu oneshot#haikyuu fluff#penguwrites#jujutsu kaisen comfort#jujutsu kaisen x reader comfort#hq comfort#jjk comfort
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im back again!
could u try to do a thing where reader tries to attempt the gaslighting thing from tiktok on matty
- esp with the like "do you ever wish you were tall" or "have you ever thought of trying to make actual music", or something like that
maybe even confuse him abt if u actually are a thing or not to the point he gets extremely jealous n clingy
Look at him!!! He’s so soft and pretty, how am I supposed to be mean to him? 😭😭 But for you, I’m going to give this a try…
I hope you like it ❤️
Grouch
Can I come over later?
His text from a few hours ago is still fresh in your mind. The excitement about him coming over has since doubled, tripled because you have a plan forming in your head.
An evil plan brewing more like…
You can’t help but laugh giddily as you put on your nicest dress possible, as you scour Pinterest for the best “sultry makeup inspo”. You can’t help but laugh as the doorbell rings.
This has to be strategically executed, it absolutely needs to be perfect. You have to greet him exactly like usual, with a smile and a kiss.
He raises an eyebrow when he comes in, eyes you from head to toe appreciatively and then pulls you in for another kiss.
‘You look gorgeous, baby…’
You blush, shyly say a thank you, but the confused look on his face is back.
‘I thought we were just going to stay in today?’
‘Well…yea, we are. I just thought I’d go out with Nick after you’ve left?’ You deserve an Oscar for the performance you’ve been putting on so far or at least an Emmy.
His eyes narrow at the mention of another man’s name. ‘Who’s Nick?’ he tries to be all cool and nonchalant but you can already see the cogs of his brain working overtime trying to place that name.
Nothing’s going to occur to him, however. Because Nick isn’t a real person, he’s only a prompt for this prank. You let him mull that over in his head for a bit as you make your way to the kitchen. It doesn’t escape your notice how he follows you like a puppy.
‘Oh, Nick?’ you try to look at him through innocent doe eyes.
‘Yea, do I know him?’
‘Oh well, I don’t know. He runs that bakery in town, remember? I always talk about how much I love their brownies,’ you prod on. Even sigh wistfully for dramatic effect.
Matty, however, looks like he’s swallowed sour milk.
‘And what are you doing with him?’
You shrug in response, turn around to grab some mugs from the shelf. You even make sure to stand on your toes to grab them from the highest shelf. It wouldn’t hurt if he sees how good your ass looks in these jeans…
‘He said the bakery was going to be closed today,’ you fiddle with the mugs, try to find the right ones, stall time so you won’t have to look at him during this part. ‘I asked him if he could teach me how to bake, so that’s what we’re doing today.’
You turn back to him and smile cheerfully.
‘So is he teaching a class?’ he asks hopefully, ‘like with multiple other people?’
‘Oh, no,’ you smile excitedly, ‘this is a special one-on-one.’
‘A special one-on-one?’ his jaw hangs open slightly as if he can’t believe what you’re trying to imply. For a moment you wonder if you’re going too far but this is just starting to get funny.
You click your tongue, ‘you know what I mean…’
There’s a beat of silence when you’re both silent. He’s trying to figure out what to say and you’re trying to hold the laughter in.
‘Baby, I could teach you how to bake,’ he grumbles, ‘Fuck, youtube could teach you that.’
‘Yea but he’s a professional,’ you laugh and press a chaste little kiss to his cheek. ‘Besides, do you even know how to make brownies?’
‘It’s not like it’s rocket science,’ he rolls his eyes. ‘And what’s so good about this guy anyway?’
‘He’s French,’ you answer as if that explains everything. Matty can make of that whatever he wants to.
You turn around, put the kettle on and start walking away to get some snacks but he��s not about to let you… Not so fast.
In one smooth movement, he hooks two fingers in the back pocket of your jeans and pulls you flush against his chest.
‘I don’t know what you’re trying to pull but you didn’t seriously think you were going to a special session with this dickhead, did you?’
The possessiveness in his voice sends shivers down your spine and makes your mouth go dry.
‘Especially not looking like that.’
His mouth hovers just above your ear and you know he felt that shiver just now.
‘No?’ you try to sound confused but it just comes out breathy.
‘Yea, no French asshole is about to get one-on-one time with my girl,’ he declares. And just like that he’s back to being annoyed and huffy.
Your already-weakening resolve breaks instantly as you turn to hide your face in his chest and burst out into a fit of giggles.
‘Oh god, you really…you really fell for it,’ you try to get the words out between giggles and he frowns.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You,’ you jab a finger in his chest, ‘Matty Healy who is almost chronically online doesn’t know what a TikTok trend is?’
You look at his face, see him go through all five phases of grief at once. You can feel the tears running down your cheeks, smudging your eye makeup but his face is just too funny.
‘You’re an asshole,’ he mutters but holds onto your waist just as tightly
‘Grouch,’ you tease as you stand on your toes once again and start peppering kisses all over his face. ‘Would it help if I say the clothes and the makeup are for you?’
‘Whatever,’ he rolls his eyes, looks at a random spot on the wall but he hasn’t exactly pulled away from you. If anything, he’s leaning into them.
‘And would it help if I say Nick’s not a real person?’
‘He’s not?’ Of course, that piques his interest but he’s quick to put the annoyed mask back in place, ‘I mean, yea sure. Why do I care?’
‘You really don’t care?’ you pout, press a feathery kiss on his jaw. To his credit, he manages not to close his eyes and sigh at the kiss.
‘Are you mad at me?’ you look at him through your eyelashes and even make your lip wobble for the added effect.
That’s the trick that does it. He stops focusing on the wall and looks back at you again.
‘This is so unfair!’ he grumbles. ‘I can’t even stay mad at you.’
#matty healy imagine#matty healy fluff#matty healy x reader#matty healy fanfiction#the 1975#matty healy drabble#drabble#asks#fluff#matty x reader#tiktok pranks#established relationship#female reader#pranks#matthew healy x reader#matty healy x you
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