#I genuinely thought this was a math question at first.

[dysfunctionaldogdude]

13 + 20

13- Hm, depends on what fandom. If Hannibal then I'd say beasthawk. If not I'd probably go with either Good Omens ineffable juniors or Deadplate's Vincent x Rody.

20- Last year during Octoberish? Well. On this account, on my dev account I've been uhhh I think 2-3 years?

I started out with this as a GO account but changed it to a Hannibal account around uhh.... like 3 months back? 2-3 months ago? Idk I'm bad with time. Hannibal is my hyperfixaton + I get more traction with it than GO since it's a smaller fandom than GO.

#asks #reply #t3acupz #moots #I genuinely thought this was a math question at first.

[homunculus-argument]

As a kid, I wasn't taught any concept that there's a difference between wanting to do something, and enjoying it. I was a largely unsupervised kid with undiagnosed ADHD and parents who expected their kids to just raise themselves on their own. So when I was capable of spending hours drawing or reading a fun book, but couldn't even remember that I had homework, ever, I was told that I simply didn't want to do well in school. And who was I to question that, I'm eight years old.

Enjoyment and passion were the only forms of motivation I knew, and if I couldn't make myself either love doing boring math homework as much as I loved my hobbies, or force myself to push through things I hated with sheer willpower alone because I want to succeed so bad, then clearly I was simply not as good as all the other kids, who could do that. And that attitude carried onto adulthood. Every time I struggled to muster genuine love and passion into something, I thought that I just don't want it badly enough. Not to enough to love it, or to suffer through it.

Being medicated for the first time was a game changer. Like holy shit, so this is your brain on dopamine. And suddenly I wanted to do things, turned my life around, took up the passion career I had never dared to try. And when the first "honeymoon phase" of the meds wore down, the same fear came back - I don't like this anymore, do I not want it bad enough? What else could I possibly want?

And I shit you not I was literally 30 years old when I understood that life isn't just either loving every minute of pursuing a passion that you love, or joylessly dragging yourself through things that you don't even want to do. I can just tell myself "just because I don't like doing this doesn't mean I don't want to be doing it." It's not a mark of failure, weakness or lack of motivation, if sometimes the career you want to be doing just feels like having a job.

[midnightbluebells03]

Ellie x easily distracted reader ><

DISTRACTED

Ellie pic from here

CW - oral (r receving)

WC - about 1.3k

Readers physical appearance isn't described (I think)

I think this went a lil left field, so sorry about that!! Leave me any Abby or Ellie requests x

I wrote this super quick cause I've got a concert to get ready for but hope yall like it

When you had asked Ellie to come over and help you study you were fully convinced that it would be a good idea. Afterall she was the smartest person you knew, majoring in astrophysics and being genuinely good with math. But now it seems like it was anything but.

Your girlfriend is sitting so close to you, your thighs are grazing together, those glasses you love perched on her nose and her veiny hands point to the pages in your text book.

How were you supposed to pay attention?

"So just take x, which in this case is 57" she starts to walk you through another question. Even though just ten minutes ago she had to pause because you had lost focus. Starting to doodle on the margins of your notebook and look around your room. Hands restleslly fidgeting with the sheets underneath you. Now your focus was on the textbook. Well on the hands running across the text book anyway. Close enough right?

You had to fight every urge to trace your fingers over her tattoo, to pull two of her fingers into your mouth and just-

"Hey" Ellie's voice snaps you out your trace. "Babe are you listening?" Her eyebrows furrowed slightly and you can't help but feel guilty. The heat rushing to your cheeks as you nod timidly, knowing full well you have no idea how to do this. "What's the answer then?".

"Umm...12?" Ellie shakes her head and closes the book over.

"39" she sounds defeated and you sigh softly, covering your face with your hands. A frustrated groan leaves your lips.

"I'm sorry Els I just...I don't get it"

Ellie's hands come to your wrists, pulling them down softly. You look at her and she just smiles. You're a little shocked. You had expected her to be at least a little annoyed, you two had been at it for hours and you still couldn't keep focused. But no she's as soft as ever.

"Think you're just distracted baby" her eyes dart down from your own to your chest, making you swallow hard. Your tight tanktop letting her see a peak of your cleavage, your skin that's just begging for her to mark it. "Want me to make it better?" Her tone has switched, to that cocky, teasing one that makes you weak. You nod and reach for her cheeks but she stops you. "Words babe"

"Please?" You say quietly, Ellie moves closer to you. Cupping one of your cheeks in her hand as she starts to close the gap between you two. Only pausing when she's an inch away from your lips.

"But right after-"

"I'll keep studying, promise" you inturput, running your hands up her thighs. Feeling the rough denim of her jeans under your fingertips. Your lips connect and your melt into her touch. Your hand coming to the back of her head to deepen the kiss. When you two pull back her glasses fall onto the bed and make you giggle. Picking them up to place them on your bedside. "Don't wanna break them again"

One of the first times you had made out Ellie's glasses were an unfortunate victim. Ending with her needing to tape them together until she could buy a new pair, refusing to let you help her pay.

But once you place the glasses down you can't help but glance at your phone. Noticing all the notifications that had been piling up since you started studying. "Baby?" Ellie's hand on your thigh makes you whip your head back around.

"Hmm?"

She tilts her head towards your desk just across the room. "Go sit" you open your mouth to question her but she cuts you off with a peck. "Just do it"

You do as she asks and seat yourself down on your desk chair. Swiveling in at as you watch Ellie move your notebook, pen and textbook infront of you. "Els I thought we were gonna....yknow" you pout, feeling her hand rest on your shoulder.

"We are baby" she picks up the pen and scribbles down some numbers, you watch as she does and frown when you reliase shes writing you an equation. "Just need you to solve this problem okay?" You groan but nod, watching as Ellie drops to her knees infront of you. Her hands spreading your thighs apart. "I'm just gonna go down here" she plucks at the waistband of your sleep shorts. Signaling you to pull them off, along with your panties. You feel your face get hot as she pulls you closer. "Once you solve it, then you can cum"

You look at the problem and you just sigh. "Els I cant"

"Yes you can baby" she starts to trail soft kisses up your inner thighs. "Cmon you know this" she licks a strip from your hole to your clit. Making you grip the desk hard. You can practically feel her smiling into you as her tounge starts to circle your clit in slow circles.

Instead of fighting it you pick up your pen and try to tackle the problem. Hoping to get it done soon because all you want is to grab onto Ellie's hair and grinding yourself down onto her. But you know better than to test her. She was soft sure but she could be mean when she wanted.

It's almost painful how slow her tounge is moving, purposely not trying to distract you. Just enough to make you drip. Your eyebrows are knitted as you stare at the mess of numbers infront of you but after a few more minutes you give up. Scribbling down the answer you got to before tapping Ellie's head. "Done" you say softly, chewing on your lip as Ellie moves back. Sticking her hand out for you to give her the paper. You can't help but pick at your nails as you watch her read it over.

"Babe"

"I know it's wrong but Ellie plea-"

"You got it" she cuts you off, looking up at you with a huge smile. "X equals 16" the paper gets dropped to the floor as Ellie wraps her arms around your thighs. Burrying herself in your pussy like she was the one being teased. She always did treat it like her last meal. "So fucking smart baby" she mumbles between borderline making out with your pussy. Making you moan loudly as your back arches off the chair.

"Fuck Ellie" your hand gets wrapped in her hair. Messing up the bun she had thrown it into this morning. You hadn't realised how close you were, how worked up her teasing had gotten you. Not until your thighs were shaking around her head and threaning to close. Only stopped by her strong grip keeping you open. "Can I cum? Ellie please?" You start to whine, hips jerking up when she pulls back. Trying to chase her mouth.

"Yeah baby make a fucking mess on my face" she kisses your clit "you earned it, such a good girl for me". She barley gives you time to thank her before diving back between your legs. Tounge swirling around you clit when her nails dig into your thighs. Making you moan so loud you're worried about your neighbours. But the knot in your stomach is building, your eyes starting to roll back.

"Ellie!" You moan loudly as your orgasm rushes through you. Nothing but the sounds of you babbling her name echoing in the room. She let's you ride it out. Only stopping when you slump back into the chair with heavy breaths.

"Think you can go again baby?" Ellie looks up at you, your cum dripping down her chin "we gotta get you prepared for the test"

After a few seconds of catching your breath you nod, watching her scribble another problem down. You were going to past this test, even if it meant you were going to be so fucked out you can't think straight.

#lesbian #wlw #smut #fanfic #writer #writing #tlou #ao3 #fanfiction #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou

[urrockstar-xe]

winter formal - p.parker x fem!reader

aka a starstruck christmas

posted jan 2nd, 2024 8:55pm

this is specifically for @heywardsarchive who said i should make a part 2 so thank u pals :D

this is also fairly late, happy new year, thanks for being here.

summary; although reader misses hanging around her special spider friend, her crush on a certain peter parker boy has her distracted use of Y/n

starstruck does not need to be read first to enjoy this!

starstruck

masterlist

wordcount: 2.1

It had been a few weeks since you had seen that familiar spider up close, nothing more than him swinging from afar, not that you should’ve been complaining. All of your time was being taken up by studying and then getting tutored by that Midtown High kid, Peter Parker. He was a lot cooler than you had expected but the fact all you did when hanging out was math really tainted the image of him in your head.

no matter how pretty he was.

Although with the holidays, more crime typically followed Santa around the globe so you weren’t exactly surprised how Spidey was extra busy this time of year.

Yet you still sighed in disappointment when you got home and once again met a note on your windowsill. 

”Hey, pretty lady, stopped by but you weren’t in :( can’t wait til you’re done with your tutoring sessions” 

The note was short but still, it brought a stupid little smile to your face, pulling out the notebook from your backpack, you wrote a note of your own.

”miss you spidey”

you set it on the outside of your window, setting a small rock from your desk on top so that it wouldn’t run away in the wind before quickly shutting your bedroom window and shivering from the cold.

“Maybe I should get a onesie”

~

“Y/n? You still with me?” Peter asked, grabbing your attention away from the window of the coffee shop you sat in. “Yeah, sorry, Peter” You give a quiet laugh, looking back at the window for a second, just checking to see if he’s out there before turning back to Peter, who was looking at you with a soft smirk. 

“What, why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, earning a laugh from the boy as he set his pen down.

“When did I lose you?” He asked, ignoring your question. “I don’t know,” You shrugged, honestly.

Peter shook his head, his smile unmoving as he closed the book in front of him. He leaned back into the leather of the booth, turning his gaze to your face. “Can’t get you focused at all lately” He joked, but not really. “I’m sorry” You gave him a half smile, hoping it would help your apology come off as genuine, just earning another laugh from the boy as he took his glasses off. 

God, he’s so hot. dude don’t think like that he’s right there

oh god what if he’s a mind read-

“Y/n? Again? C’mon, sweetheart” He chuckled, snapping you out of your thoughts. You laughed with him this time. “I’ve just got like no sleep lately,” You explained, ignoring the way your heart sped up at the pet name and earning a sympathetic smile and nod from Peter. “Is there a reason why?” He asked, leaning forward just slightly as if you were sharing secrets. 

“It feels like waiting for a phone call every night” You shrugged, not missing how Peter’s face fell at your words.

“Oh, boy trouble?” He asked, quieter this time. “something like that” he just hummed in response, not wanting to press any further. 

“Well, if you need a distraction, there’s this school thing-“ “Oh you mean at Nerdtown High?” You cut him off with a tease, laughing at how Peter scoffed and couldn’t help his smile. “Yeah, it’s like a winter formal dance thing, I’m in charge of takin’ pictures and stuff, could use some company” He shrugged, not wanting to just outwardly ask you. 

“And I have a special invite from the photographer himself?” You feigned a flattered face, dramatically putting your hand over your heart.

“Yes,” he laughed, “if you want to come, that is.” He shrugs, smiling at you. You mimicked his actions from earlier, leaning forward into the end of the table, still far enough to not feel his breath but close enough to make Peter slightly tilt his head as if unsure of what you were doing. 

Okay, so maybe how pretty he was did make a difference

“So, what are we wearing?” You asked, smiling.

~

The last-minute invite limited your options but luckily you managed to dig up something from your closet and accessorize enough to feel good about how you looked. While you were putting your earrings in, a knock hit your window, interrupting your giddy feelings about going to a school dance with Peter. 

Your head whipped around when there was a second knock, knowing now who it was as you got up and quickly opened the window, laughing at how Spidey dramatically fell into your room, completely on purpose. 

“hi” You smiled, putting on your jacket to shield yourself from the cold. “hey, pretty lady” Spider-man’s voice was distorted, muffled almost but also sounded like he was purposely making his voice quieter and deeper. “Why do you sound like that?” You laughed as you asked the question.

“Got a cold” he shrugged, before looking you up and down. “You look nice” Spiderman nodded, as if in approval but also as if he had to shut up before saying more.

“Thanks, don’t stare too much though, I’ve got a date!” You teased, smiling excitedly as you sat back down and focused on the red color lining your lips before blending it with your fingertip.

“A date huh?” He asked, not even trying to hide his shock at this point. You sigh, dramatically looking back at Spiderman, earning a chuckle at your theatrics. “Well, I think it’s a date, but if you ask questions, it sucks the fun out of it.” He nodded as if he understood your explanation.

He didn’t.

“You remember that tutor I mentioned?” 

Spidey hummed in response, making himself comfortable on your old bean bag chair, watching you finish getting ready.

“It’s with him” You spoke with a giddy light to your voice as you applied lip oil over the red on your lips. 

The silence from the usually obnoxious talkative spider caught your attention.

And while you didn’t know why, it was because he was internally panicking. 

“Thought he was like a total nerd” He laughed awkwardly, worried he’d blow his cover.

“Oh, he totally is,” You chose to ignore the scoff from Spidey as you continued speaking. “But, he’s also like charming and funny, and he’s so fuckin cute, he calls me sweetheart and like how he rambles apologies whenever he’s late and he always insists on walking me home even though I'm way out of his way for his own walk. Oh my gosh and the other day he hugged me which reminded me so much of that scene at the end of Tangled, like he just hugged all of me, does that make sense? Like he needed to be as close as possible, Ugh”

As you rambled on about your almost embarrassing crush on Peter, all he could hear was his heart pounding in his chest, he had spent weeks as Spiderman, coming to your rescue for mundane tasks, going as far as leaving notes when he wanted to see you but couldn’t. 

Here he was thinking Peter Parker was ruining his plans as your math tutor, meanwhile, He was the one you couldn’t stop rambling about.

Not Spiderman

But Peter.

He was freaking the fuck out.

“Oh my god, what time is it?” You asked, cutting off Peter’s Spiderman’s thoughts as you urgently looked for your phone. “Spidey, you know I love you, babe, but he’s gonna be here like any second.” You offered an apologetic smile as Spiderman waved it off, a way to say It’s all good, 

“Hey, have fun tonight, pretty lady!” He said, clearing his throat as if he was trying not to cough, and before you had a chance to respond, Spiderman was gone. 

~

“Did I mention how pretty you look?” Peter asked as he snapped another picture of you, complimenting you for the 5th, no 6th time tonight.

not that you’d been counting

You smiled, shaking your head. “No, I don’t think you have” You teased, earning that laugh that felt so painfully familiar in return.

“Hey, I have a question for you,” Peter started, still unsure about your previous conversation with Spiderman, even if you laid out all he’d need to know. 

The christmas lights and hanging snowflakes around the room suddenly became incredibly interesting to you as you nodded, avoiding all hints of eye contact possible, and silently thanking anyone who was listening in prayer as instead of looking at you, he started photographing other students and teachers dancing around the room to the Christmas music playing. 

Peter bit the inside of his cheek as he thought out his next few words, trying to not talk himself out of it. Distracting himself by taking photos of his classmates, he finally spoke.

“Do you prefer Pepsi or Coke?” 

coward

You laughed at the question, so it must’ve counted for something, right?

Or that’s at least what he had hoped as he smiled and listened to your unnecessary rant of an answer.

~

You shoved your hands into the pockets of Peter’s jacket that you were currently wearing at his insistence, of course, not being able to help yourself as you did a quick scan of the sky as Peter walked you home. 

He didn’t need instructions on how to get there anymore.

“Lookin' for something?” He asked, nudging you lightly.

Why did he always notice you looking for Spiderman?

“Someone, actually” You smiled at him, turning your gaze to your shoes, counting the cracks under your feet. 

“Oh,” play it cool, Peter. “Spiderman?” Was that too obvious?

You shrugged, looking at Peter with your head tilted.

“Didn’t know you were a fan” He continued, his turn now to count the cracks. 

“Yeah, something like that” you chuckled to yourself, shaking your head before looking at Peter, watching as he smiled softly at the concrete beneath his feet. 

“I had a really great time tonight, Peter” You sighed, nudging him slightly once your apartment complex came into view, even if you still had 3 more minutes of walking.

You really enjoyed your walks home with Peter. Of course, you counted how long the walks were.

“Me too” he nudged back, stopping for a moment and getting your attention by the feeling of his scarf getting tossed around your shoulders, you stopped walking now, allowing him to properly adjust the soft fabric around your neck making it two items of his you were now wearing.

“Can’t have you catching a cold for the holidays” Peter whispered, soft eyes moving to look into yours upon realizing how close you were. “Course not” you agreed in the same tone.

The moment lasted for however much time wasn’t enough, ending with the sound of police sirens, you both turned at the sound, watching as 2, 3, 4 cop cars rushed past you both. 

“Think I know where Spidey’s been” You mumble to yourself, though not missing the quiet laugh from Peter as he threw his arm around your shoulder, urging you to keep walking, seeming to be sort of rushing now. 

You didn’t question it, it was getting late and you knew he didn’t like leaving May alone too late into the night, it makes her worry would be all he told you anyway, so why pry?

You also had quickly decided to try and forget about the ruined moment, content in feeling as he wrapped his arms around your waist, forcing your arms around his neck in the hug you had loved so much and a quiet “I’ll see you in two weeks” mumbled into the shoulder of his your jacket.

Shit, winter break, you almost forgot about that

“Merry Christmas, Peter” You mumbled back, holding your breath as he pulled away and not letting it go til after you opened the door to the lobby. 

“Hey,” his voice made you turn around, tilting your head like a silent question mark.

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart” 

~

The words replay in your head even still as you lie in your bed, waiting for your dreams to overtake you. How he looked at you and how he spoke the words so softly, despite having heard him call you Sweetheart a dozen times by now, you couldn’t get over it.

That seemed to mix with the anxiety you were feeling about whatever was going on with those policemen tonight, why was he not following? Was he already there? Is it about what’s had him so occupied the last few weeks?

The unanswered questions of worry and giddy feelings of adoration put you in a seemingly never-ending loop of anxiety that you were completely unable to come out no matter how hard-

Thump thump thump 

You sat up, almost giving yourself whiplash with how you turned to look at your window. 

Thump thump

They were weaker that time, uh oh.

#tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x reader #tasm peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #the amazing spiderman x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagines

[acewritesfics]

Hopelessly In Love | Tommy Shelby

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: No

Fic Type: Imagine

Warnings: Sarcasm, teasing, two idiots in love.

Word Count: 1,821

TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

“I need you," Y/N hears from behind her and turns around to see her best friend standing there, looking exasperated. 

“Good afternoon, Y/N. I sincerely hope your day is going well,” she begins sarcastically as she finishes hanging her mother's latest shipment of dresses on the racks.

Y/N works in her mother's boutique. A boutique in Small Heath sounded ridiculous considering the surroundings but her mother had opened the store, claiming that women needed a nice place to shop among the smoke and grime. “Well Thomas, it’s going so well that I’m sure nothing will bother me for the rest of the day, even when my best friend storms in like some neanderthal claiming he needs me like it’s a matter of life or death.” 

Tommy stood there, his hands in his pocket, looking at her unimpressed, his brows creased into a frown. A smug smirk stretches across her face. 

“What can I do you for, Tommy?” She asks, moving back behind the counter. 

“I need you to go to the races with me,” he tells her removing his hands from his pockets and stepping closer to the counter.  

“What? Has Hell frozen over or is it finally the day women have stopped throwing themselves at Thomas Shelby’s feet?” She teases her childhood friend. “Oh, Tommy, it must be hard,” she says pouting, giving her him a look of false sympathy.  

“Shut it, you,” he glares at her, elbows resting on the counter as he leans forward. “I’m being serious.” 

“Why do you want to take me to the races?” She questions him. They hadn’t been to the races together since before the war. It was sort of their tradition, one that was so easily forgotten when the war was over, and Tommy had thrown himself into making a better name for the Shelby’s. Instead of making the name better, he also made it fearful. “Why don’t you take that pretty barmaid you seem so smitten with. Or Lizzy, who’s more than eager to have a proper date with you.” 

“Why should I take them when I can take you, eh?” he asks, watching her as she busies herself with the clutter on the counter. She looks unsure but Tommy can tell that she’s thinking hard about it. “What are you afraid of?” 

“That you’ll forget all about the barmaid and fall hopelessly in love with me again,” she quips with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just like when we were kids. You could never resist my charm and we don't want to break the barmaid's poor treacherous heart.” 

Y/N couldn't deny that she did like Grace, the barmaid Harry had hired, at first. She seemed lovely and got along quite well with her until she realized Grace was asking her a lot of questions about Tommy. At first, she thought the blonde woman fancied her best friend and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. Grace wasn't the first woman to end up with a crush on the blue-eyed devil. Tommy wasn't hard to fall in love with. But when she started asking her about the Shelby family business and the Peaky Blinders, she became suspicious that Grace's interest in Tommy wasn't as genuine as she made it out to be. And then there was the time she caught Grace eavesdropping and snooping around. She began to put two and two together. 

An Irish inspector and a pretty Irish woman, step foot in Small Heath at the same time. The barmaid, who's never actually worked in a pub before now, conveniently gets herself a job at the Garrison, the pub the Shelby Brothers frequent often and just so happens to set her eyes on the leader of the Peaky Blinders.  

She'd tried to talk to Tommy about it, but the stubborn man wouldn't hear any of it so she went to Polly who had also done the math. For a man who claimed to be smart, he became the stupidest idiot she's ever met when it comes to a pretty face. 

“I knew that love tea would have consequences,” he smiles thinking of the times they sat with his mother while she did what she called magic. He purposefully ignores her comment about Grace. He didn't want to talk or think about her right now. His sole focus is on convincing Y/N to go to the races with him, like old times and how he'd promised her all those years ago. “Maybe it’s why I never stopped being hopelessly in love with you.” 

"Don't tell Grace that," she says looking back at him before moving on to inspect the next dress, a pretty deep forest green with black beading and a black lace hem. 

"Fuck Grace," he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "This is about us." 

"There is no us, Tommy," she sighs and moves on to the red dress that's not as pretty as the green.  

"Just come to the races with me," he begins. "I haven't taken you in a while. Let me take you again." 

"Do I have a choice?"  

He shakes his head, "No." 

She looks at him, her brows creased into a frown showing her frustration.  

"Wear the green one," he adds, dropping £7 onto the counter.  

"It's only worth £5," she informs him, knowing there is no point in arguing with him. Once Tommy was set on something, there was no stopping him. 

"Buy something to go with it," he suggests. "Maybe some new shoes," he adds as he takes the dress off the mannequin and hands it to her, placing a soft kiss on her cheek before he starts making his way out of the store. "I'll pick you up at 8:30 tomorrow morning." 

"I despise you, Thomas Shelby," she calls after him. 

"And I love you, Y/N L/N" he says when he reaches the door and turns to look at her once more. "Hopelessly love you." 

Her smile goes from ear to ear this time as she watches him leave, with a slight shake of her head. She turns to go back to the counter to wrap the dress up and startles when she sees her mother standing there, a knowing smirk on her lips.  

"It's about time that boy made his move," her mother says, taking the dress from her and folds it neatly on the paper they use to wrap the clothing in. "Better late than never, I guess." 

"It's not like that, Mum," she says picking up the £7 Tommy left and placing it inside the till.  

"Of course, it is," her mum argues, walking towards where the shoes are and picks out a pair of black t-strap heels, to match the beading on the dress and brings them over to the counter. "Thomas Shelby has been in love with you since you were both five years old and you've been in love with him for just as long," she adds placing the shoebox on the counter next to the dress. "Don't waste any more time, Darling." 

"I do love him," she admits. "Some days I wonder why." 

"And you'll have plenty more of those days," her mum chuckles. "Now get out of here and go rest up for tomorrow."  

"I love you, mum," she says hugging the woman who gave her life.  

"I love you too, sweetheart." 

"I must admit, I did miss this," Y/N says, sitting across the table from Tommy as they sat in the VIP area of the racecourse, in the forest green with black beading dress he paid for and heels her mother picked out. 

After a successful day at the races, they made their way up to the VIP lounge where they got a drink, a meal and did some dancing. Tommy was unable to keep his eyes off her from the moment he saw her standing on the curb waiting for him to pick her up. It made driving a little difficult since he tried his hardest to concentrate on the road and not the beautiful woman sitting next him. And then when they got to the races, he glared down, silently threatening the men who dared to let their eyes linger on her.  

"Do you remember the first time we snuck in here?" he asks her, a soft smile on his lips. Leaning back, he watches her as she thinks back to it.  

They were 16 at the time and she had come along with him, his brothers and his father. He'd been to the races plenty of times before, but she'd never been until that day. They both got dressed in their finest clothes back then, which were nowhere near the standard of clothing they were in today. Tommy had tried to talk his way into the VIP section, using that silver tongue of his that he had been born with. Unfortunately, it didn't work, and they had found a space in the back that they could use to sneak into the elegant area reserved for the wealthy.  

They'd spent 10 minutes in the area before they were escorted out and off the grounds of the racecourse and were made to wait there until his dad returned from being inside. That night Tommy had made her a promise. 

"I promise that one day, I will buy you the prettiest dress and we'll go back there, and they'll let us in. When they do, we'll spend the night dancing and when I take you home afterwards, I'll kiss you goodnight." 

She feels her heart skip a beat as she remembers word for word what he had promised her. As she got older, she had always played it off as a silly childish promise that held no real meaning.  

Tommy stood up from his chair and moved round the table, standing beside her as he held his hand out towards her. "Let's go home, Love." 

Y/N takes his hand and stands up, grabbing her clutch off the table and lets him lead her back to his vehicle.  

Once they arrive at the passenger's side, Tommy decides he can't wait until he drops her off home. Stopping her from getting into the car, he pulls her close, a hand on her waist and the other caresses her cheek. 

"Tommy," her voice comes out as a whisper as her heart jumps into her throat at the little space left between them.  

"I can't wait," he breathes, his voice soft as he plants his lips to hers in a soft and sweet kiss. Both their eyes flutter closed as a rush of warmth envelopes them as they pull each other as close as they can, deepening the kiss. 

Tommy is the one to end it when they start to become breathless. "I am hopelessly in love with you." 

"I know," she says, unable to hide her grin as she kisses him again. "I am hopelessly in love with you too, Thomas Shelby." 

TAGGED: @chapter-in-my-old-diary - @hanawrites404 - @goblinjnr - @halsteadbrasil - @rainydayteacups - @alexxavicry

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#acewritesfics repost #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine

[binniebakery]

lights off

College AU Bestfriend!Beomgyu x Gn!Reader .. not exactly fluff! kinda suggestive? ♡ Warnings: thunder? rain? ig being in the dark? my first time writing kissing .. my first time actually writing ANYTHING so it might be bad im so sorry guys ♡ A/N: this is my first little fic (if you could call it that)! i literally hate it but i think i got the point across LOLL regardless i hope someone will enjoy please lmk what you think <3 lowercase intended + not proofread ~

7:32 pm. sighing softly, you placed your phone that was softly playing your favorite tunes back down on the small table over your lap. you tapped your pencil on the table in frustration as you once again for the fifth time readjusted your legs on the bed of your best friend's bedroom. time was going by excruciatingly slow and it didnt help that this math problem was taking you a million years to solve. the sun had already set outside and heading back to your dorm seemed less favorable by the minute. hearing a soft shuffle from the other side of the room you looked up at your best friend. rain began to patter outside. looks like you'll be staying for longer than you intended. beomgyu, who had his deep-colored headphones on was moving his head to the music as he wrote down notes from his study guide. his hair softly wrapped around his features most attractively. you began to mentally trace the lines of his nose, his eyes… his lips.. the dim lighting of the room adding more charm to his aura. "y/n..? are you okay? i could feel you burning holes into my head." beomgyu said as he shook off his headphones to fully put his attention was on you. snapped out of your daze, you mentally kicked yourself as you felt embarrassment creep onto your cheeks. how long had you been staring at him for..? "sorry gyu. if i was staring i didnt mean to" you softly laughed, trying to seem nonchalant and cool about the situation. beomgyu, seeing your embarrassment, chuckled at your reaction. "youre okay, i know you look at me because im cute" he grinned and you rolled your eyes. "oh shut up! you know i was daydreaming. i cant focus on this assignment anyways, its too hard. i think im gonna just finish it tomorrow." you smiled as you threw a pillow at him. he was always cheeky when he had the opportunity. anything to see you react. "daydreaming? so you do think im cute?" he grinned wider after recovering from your pillow attack. you huffed and placed the table that was on your lap onto the ground. "you know youre so-.. ugh and what if i do think you're cute?! what would you even do about it, huh?" you retaliated as you sat on the edge of his bed, now fully facing him. you faked a pout as you were feeling a bit bolder than usual today. your homework giving you enough pent-up rage to have the energy to give in to his bickering.

"okay well i dont know how much truth there is to that but if you really meant that id probably kiss you." your eyes widened at his response. you see beomgyu's face turn into an unreadable expression. he hadnt realized you were only half joking and fully meant the compliment, but it was too late and by the time he caught wind that you were actually flustered he felt his stomach flip. even he was shocked by his own words. he slipped. had he said too much? after a few seconds of silence that felt like minutes. the rain outside seemed to get louder. his eyes finally met yours and you looked away. you felt your heart pounding at the thought of you saying too much. both of you overthinking the situation and awkwardness that you both never have had before taking place. you and beomgyu have never had an awkward moment like this. normally you both laugh things off but this time felt different. "you trust me right?" his voice sounded sincere. this tone was rare for you to hear from him but you knew immediately he was being genuine with his question. "h- huh? yeah of course.. why?" you responded. "okay well.." you noticed beomgyu was now fiddling with his headphones, it seemed like he was turning all the gears in his head to get out what he wanted to say. "y/n.. theres a chance you may have not been telling the truth but if you were- look regardless if you meant it, i meant what i said." you could feel your stomach turning. he hardly flirted with you but when he did it always felt different from his usual teasing. you never said anything though, in fear of ruining your friendship. yet you always thought about what it would be like if he also returned the feelings you felt.

the room's atmosphere seemed to change. suddenly you were both hyper-aware of his neon led light being the only source of light aside from his computer. your playlist had stopped and the silence felt unbearable. in one swift move, he stood up, and turned off the led light on his wall.

the room was a lot darker now, his computer screen's light being the only way of telling you what he was going to do next. you watched as he plopped down next to you. he was so close that you could see the slight tinge of pink on his ears. your senses began to be filled with the light scent of his cologne. "i.. look- the only way i can say or do this is if the lights are off- im not trying to be weird its just you make me so nervous.. i cant look at you." he mumbled as he looked at your hands resting on your lap. it was so dark and both your hearts were racing. "gyu.. " was all you could muster with his hands now softly on yours.

"can i…" beomgyu began as he leaned in closer, only centimeters away from your face. his eyes staring intently into yours. he had this look of pure admiration, nervousness and love. it was all too surreal. realizing what he was asking, you silently nodded as you stared at his lips. he pressed his forehead on yours, the thick tension in the air causing your body to tingle in anticipation. as you felt his hair softly tickle your features from him leaning in, your lips connected. he kissed you oh so softly as he held your cheek gently. your hands, as if moving on their own, were softly placed on his arms. his lips softly moving along your own. he was patient. it felt as if he was waiting for you to respond, unsure if what he was doing was okay with you. you moved your head to the side slightly to deepen the kiss, causing him to sigh. it was all he needed to know you felt the same. his hands moved to your waist as you settled your fingers into his long hair. softly pushing him towards you to intensify the kiss. all that could be heard was the rain outside aside from the soft exchange of sighs and hands roaming. "ive liked you for so long.. you have no idea.." he began between kisses. it was all passionate, slow, and tender as if he was handling you like glass. his hands pulled your waist impossibly closer to his. he separated first, leaving you craving for more. "trust me, i liked you so much i was so scared you didnt feel the same way despite you teasing me the way you did." you chuckled as you pecked his cheek. "you drive me insane.." he softly spoke. "y/n, every time i tried to say something.. my brain just went to mush.. its so bad i swear. i could only be this confident with the lights off.." beomgyu laughed as his eyes began to trail your facial features. he was admiring every curve and feature, and at that point, both your faces were impossibly red. "gyu.. can you just.. kiss me again..?" your voice came out hardly a whisper. "i like you so much i feel like im going insane from the way you just confessed." he smiled fondly at your words and nodded, leaning in once again. as soon as your lips touched you could both practically feel the electricity pouring through your bodies. as if on cue, thunder struck the moment you connected again. your arms wrapped impossibly tight around him, slightly tugging and playing with his hair. his arms remained at your waist, slightly circling over the shirt you wore. you could feel the warmth of his fingers through the fabric.

his tongue slightly swiped along your lips for permission, and you parted your lips in response. having his tongue explore your mouth had your brain going numb. time felt like it had stopped, with just the rain as your only witness to the quiet whispers and confessions that only you two could hear. when you both finally were running out of breath, you separated with beomgyu looking into your eyes. you stared back, lips equally as glossy as his. "are you.. going back to your dorm yet?" thunder struck once again, as if responding to his question. you smiled. "its raining a little too hard dont you think?" beomgyu chuckled, realizing how silly his question was. "yeah. youre right, i think you should stay." you bit your lip as you pulled off each other, both of you immediately missing the warmth. beomgyu shook his head fixing his now fluffed hair thanks to you as he ran his fingers through. he then stood up to turn the led light he had turned off previously back on. "so.. how about we watch a movie?" he spoke as the light clicked. you could almost burst into laughter from the question given the events that just happened a minute prior. give it to choi beomgyu, your best friend, to turn a situation less awkward by simply being his charismatic self. the personality you fell for since day one of knowing him.

"sure gyu, but.." you trailed off, shy about what you were about to say next. honestly, could this get any more awkward? "yeah?" he turned to you and tilted his head in that attractive way he does. "leave the lights off." you looked at him with a shy smile. he flushed at your words. and for the last time again, lightning struck. "yeah.. lights off" he replied, led light clicking once again.

#tomorrow x together #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt scenarios #txt imagines #beomgyu x y/n #BakeryTreat♡

[thechekhov]

Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts: CH36

Time find out just how fucked up Toshiro got.

Hey Kabru. Chill.

That sure is a normal look to give your team mate. I'm sure you're a normal, well adjusted leader who understands when you step out of bounds.

Bold of you to assume they even care. They're too caught up in the plot of the second arc to even remember you...

So much to question here. The fact that Toshiro has retainers. The fact that they're all mildly bored. The fact that Marcille seems to hate it here. Marcille, hello??? Are you only interested in Falin? Do you just hate people that aren't her?

The fact that she's still wearing the frog costume makes this panel, honestly. What a legend.

This is so wholesome. Laios just decided to therapy this workaholic man all on his own, dangit. If he won't do it, who will? Senshi must be so proud.

Hang on, I just realized--.....is that.

Is that the cat girl...?!!? That I've been seeing? I thought it was just a hat at first, but those are ears, aren't they?! Is she the one that eventually joins the party?

Marcille, you're a beautiful frog woman to me.

If I didn't know that Chillchuck is a dad already, I would have known it at this point. What a thing to say. "oh no, which one of these kids grown men is going to cause more trouble if left unattended"

I'm sure that's fine.

...........

But when you put it that way, it seems a little.... simple?

Kabru is beginning to suspect he's in the wrong class.

"Ah yes, a little freak that scuttles around from paintings to reality and speaks in archaic and mysterious tones. GOTTA be a Sorcerer. And hella mad, too!"

The math checks out, your honor.

Her best, Karbohydrate. She did her best.

Oh Laios, you're a hoot.

Kabru, you literally said Laios is a terrible liar three seconds ago. Maybe be a little less obvious? 😂

...you've done this to yourself, mate.

Okay, you know what. I take it back. I still don't like Kabru but watching him suffer IS supremely entertaining.

Okay, I can see how he might jump to the wrong conclusions here. They did not, in fact, eat the orcs.....

Orcs are duty bound to slap ya upside the head.

I love how genuinely patient Senshi is, and how good he is at listening. Chillchuck was worried but he's just vibing with new friends.

I'm sure they're having a grand old time.

What do those ears do, hmmm?

I enjoy the fact that he says "they're all treated as heinous criminals" instead of passing moral judgement and saying 'they're beyond reproach' or the like. He knows the consequences, and remarks not at all on whether or not he agrees with the judgement itself.

I could also draw some parallels here about how Japan treats all drugs but. Well. That's another topic.

Oh, noooo. As opposed to that other way of dying, where your corpse is dragged about in a carnival fashion after you die, to dry up in the light of day forever after.

Oh wait.

This bitch is really only here for the drama. 😅

FALIN?!?!?!?! MY GIRL

WHY THE LONG......body...?

....................cool. Cool cool cool cool cool. Alright. Okay okay okay. Alright.

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi quick reacts #chekhov reads dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi liveblog

[withahappyrefrain]

Full of Surprises

Summary: You learn some surprising things about Bob at the end of a date.

Warnings: oral (f receiving), subtle Dom/sub tones, Bob being pussy drunk, language, takes place before TGM

Robert Floyd was, without a doubt, the sweetest man you had ever met.

He refused to let you open the door, whether it be to restaurants or the car. He insisted on walking on the outer section of the sidewalk, closest to the streets. He came into your classroom after school to help you with laminating and cutting out math games for your students.

When he gently kissed you goodnight, his hands would softly cup your neck, his thumbs absentmindedly stroking your jawline, nose brushing against yours.

It was a gentleness that you didn’t think still existed. You certainly didn't expect to find it in Lemoore of all places.

But sometimes your Robby was considerate almost to a fault.

At the end of the first date, you invited him in for coffee. Your hope was that he would feel more comfortable kissing you if you were inside and not out in the hallway of your apartment.

But Bob just gave you that endearing, slightly crooked smile as he shook his head. "If I drink coffee now, I'll be up all night," he told you.

You couldn't even be mad because you knew he was being genuine. It also helped that he asked when he could see you next immediately after.

On the second date, you stood on the tips of your toes so you could kiss his cheek. The sight of his glasses fogging up, combined with his face turning bright red melted your heart. You had hoped the action would be enough for him to realize you wanted him.

Instead, he kissed your cheek while he stammered out his question of when he would get to see you again. It was such a sweet sight that you couldn't be mad, though disappointment still ran through your body when you walked into your apartment by yourself.

By the fourth date, you had enough of quick pecks on the cheeks, and opted to grab Bob by the collar, pulling his lips onto yours. He was a great kisser, once he got over the initial shock of your action and his brain fully processed what was happening.

Kissing you back made things simultaneously better and worse. The way he would cup your face, gently tilting your head up to deepen the kiss still made your head dizzy. Goosebumps flared your skin when you thought about how it felt when one of his large hands was firmly planted on your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You wanted him to take you against that door right then and there.

But Robby was a gentleman so all he did was kiss you. Which left you no choice but to shove a hand in between your legs later on that night as you imagined how his hands would feel on other parts of your body.

You wouldn’t call yourself a horndog, but the WSO made it really difficult to think straight when he would casually put his hand on your knee, his fingers caressing the soft skin of your thigh.

So here you were, towards the end of your seventh date with Bob, who was walking you back to your apartment.

You had been trying to send him less subtle messages this time. You wore a sundress, hoping the exposed skin might provoke him to be more daring.

He definitely tried to get glimpses of your chest. But every time you looked at him, he'd just blush and stammer how pretty you looked tonight. Which while sweet, did nothing to soothe the ache between your legs.

Bob's breath would hitch everytime you pressed your body against his. A faint scarlet flush had crept up his neck to his face as soon as he saw you in that dress and it had stayed there for the whole date.

"I had fun tonight," you told him as your fingers grazed over the collar of his shirt. Briefly, your fingers brushed against the skin underneath.

"I did too. Always do when I'm with ya," He said, the drawl you adored coming out. Bob could read the phone book to you and you swear you'd be enthralled.

Your touch was electric. Bob tried to focus on those bright beautiful eyes of yours, but he couldn't help but wander to your full lips. He tried looking away in an attempt to be respectful, but his eyes instead turned to the straps of your dress, tied together by a soft, velvet fabric. If he undid those knots, the dress would fall down, revealing your-

He had to get out of here.

Bob was crazy about you -in fact- he was ninety-five percent sure he wanted to marry you. Therefore, the last thing he wanted to do was come off too strong and scare you away, or worse, disrespect you.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw him beginning to take a step back.

No. Not tonight.

You stepped forward, your eyes straight on him. You made your way towards Bob with such focus and precision, it caught him off guard (a huge feat considering his job). It was how you were able to press your lips against his.

His kisses were sweet yet intoxicating, like honeyed wine on a summer afternoon. Normally you weren't one to overindulge, but tonight, you wanted all of him.

Your hands tangled themselves into his hair, gripping onto his dark blonde locks in a desperate attempt to keep his lips pressed to yours. The action caused you to lightly tug onto his hair. What could best be described as a soft moan fell from Bob's lips.

Your eyes opened, shocked that such an erotic noise came from the man you were kissing.

It also sent heat straight to your core.

Bob's bright blue eyes flew open, realizing that the noise he had prayed was just in his head, actually came out of his mouth.

He broke away, his neck and face bright red. You were positive if you undid the first three buttons of his shirt, his chest would be red too.

"I-I should go-"

"Don't you fucking dare." You grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him back in. With great care, you took several steps backwards, pulling him in so you were both inside your apartment.

It was your display of how desperate you were for him that made Bob realize that perhaps he didn't have to go home and get himself off tonight with his hand.

That was what gave him the confidence to keep his lips pressed to yours. You closed the door (locking it without looking was much harder than you originally thought), your hands returning to his soft hair.

You pushed him towards the couch. Bob, finally getting the message, sat down, spreading his long legs.

His lips were gone from yours for only a minute, as you quickly straddled his waist, your thighs on the outer side of his.

Everything about him was addicting. The scent of sage flooded your nostrils. His jeans felt rough on your bare thighs, creating fiction when you shifted forwards.

Bob used his hands to tilt your head back, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. Your hands were everywhere now- his hair, his shoulders, his chest.

It felt like you couldn't get close to him, despite being literally on top of the WSO. His hands found themselves on your hips, gripping the fabric of your dress, causing the hem to rise further up your thighs.

You leaned your whole body forward, your hips grinding downward. The movement, combined with the friction your clothed core received from his jeans was absolute heaven. Before you could even think, a desperate mo an fell from your lips as your hips repeated the action again.

Bob snaked a hand up your neck, grabbing onto the ponytail your hair was done up in. A sharp tug pulled you back, forcing you to face him.

His normally well-kept hair was ruffled, a loose curl falling over his forehead. A prominent red flush had overtaken his face, his lips glistening from the sloppy kisses you were just exchanging. Glasses askew, those deep blue eyes were so overblown, they looked near black.

It was the hottest sight you had ever seen.

"What do you want? Tell me." His voice was deep, gruff. You were surprised with how commanding he was as he demanded an answer from you.

Bob tightened the grip he had in your hair, pulling you out of your thoughts, "C'mon darlin', tell me what ya need."

"You, Robby. I want you."

Sweet Jesus, you were going to be the death of him.

The next thing you knew, Bob's arms were wrapped around your waist and you were no longer on the couch. You were no longer on the ground, the bespectacled lieutenant holding you.

"Where's your bedroom? I'm doing this properly, not on a couch."

Despite your head spinning and your whole body flushed with heat, you managed to explain that your bedroom was down the hall and to the left.

He followed your directions with precision, or at least he tried to. Your lips had found their way to his neck, peppering the skin with kisses.

It was when your teeth sank into that sweet spot, right underneath his jawline, that he stopped in the hallway, a guttural groan falling from his lips as it took everything in Bob to not come in his pants right then and there.

Your back was now pressed against the cool wall. As his lips attached themselves to your neck, you couldn't help but throw your head back, gasps falling from your lips as his teeth grazed your hot, sensitive skin.

His mouth moved down to your collarbone and the tops of your breasts. His teeth were sinking into your flesh now, sure to leave marks that would be visible by tomorrow morning.

"Tryin' to be a gentleman and you make it so fuckin' hard with that mouth of yours. Can't even get ya to a bed so I can take ya properly." You moaned at his words, it being the first time you had heard Bob curse. His accent was thicker, his words sending heat all over your body, but particularly the spot in between your legs.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty when you do that," he said before his tongue lapped over a bite mark he had left on your neck.

"R-Robby, b-bed," you whimpered, your hips frantically bucking up in a desperate attempt to feel some friction.

Somehow, someway, the two of you made it into your bedroom. The back of your head softly touched your pillow, your body now splayed on your bed. You looked up, your eyes meeting those sapphire blues of Bob's as he hovered over you.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" He chuckled.

The neat ponytail you had out your hair in at the beginning of the night was barely holding things together, fallen pieces framing your sweet face. Your lip gloss was now smeared, thanks to him. He could see the bite marks he had left along your neck and collarbone.

You looked good, marked up as his.

One of the ribbons tied as a strap of your dress had loosen, causing the fabric to fall a bit from your chest, exposing your breasts even more. The hem of your dress had bunched up towards your hips, exposing the lacey soft blue panties that Bob definitely saw earlier in the evening when you bent over to pick something up and he hadn't been able to get the sight out of his head until now.

Now he had the whole view.

Your head was spinning. You hadn't expected this side from Bob. Quite honestly, you had prepared yourself that if things ever got physical between you two, you would be taking the reins.

You were wrong. Oh so very wrong. You had never been happier to be more wrong in your life.

"C-can I taste you?" His voice was soft, despite his hands gripping your thighs. He looked unsure, almost worried that somehow, he would go too far if he didn't ask.

It made your heart melt. It also made you want to give this man as many children as he wanted.

You nodded your head, "P-please Robby. Want your mouth on me."

Bob groaned, "You're gonna be the fucking death of me, I swear."

A giggle escaped your lips, though it was short lived as Bob's fingers quickly found the waistline of your panties, tugging them down and off your legs.

"Y-you're really pretty," He stammered upon seeing the sight of you laid out for him.

You smiled, a hand reaching up to stroke his cheek. Bob gave you that sweet, soft smile that made you melt, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

Because even though he had been dying to get his hands on you since your third date, he was never going to pass up an opportunity to kiss you.

The moment was sweet. You didn't realize how much you needed it until you felt the tension leave your body as his lips brushed against yours.

Bob broke away, giving you that sweet, slightly crooked smile before situating himself between your legs.

You opened your mouth, ready to give more words of encouragement to make him feel comfortable.

That wasn't necessary, as Bob planted his face in between your thighs with zero hesitation.

A curse fell from your lips, not that you could help it. That was impossible with how his tongue felt, licking stripes from your entrance to your clit.

Bob's mouth continued to surprise you tonight. First by showing he actually knew how to curse. Second (and more importantly), his mouth was very talented.

Upon his tongue lapping at your entrance, the tip of his nose brushing up against your clit, your hands latched onto his sun kissed hair.

You tasted fucking divine and somewhere, in the back of Bob's brain, he was wondering if you'd prefer an engagement ring with a gold band or silver band.

But then you tugged on his hair as you continued to let out another pretty moan. Thoughts of ring bands left his head as his lips attached themselves to your clit, alternating between sucking and kitten kicks.

You gasped upon feeling a thick finger enter you. You looked down, your eyes meeting Bob's.

What a sight that was. His lips still latched onto your clit, but stilled. Those beautiful blue eyes on you, watching, waiting for your next movement to help him decide what to do next.

"Please don't stop Robby."

"You know what that does, callin' me that. Don't ya?" The smirk forming on his face was new to you. It reeked of confidence, something you loved to see.

Your grin said it all.

Which is why Bob didn't feel bad when he added a second finger to you. In fact, that's why he smirked upon seeing your back arch as you fell apart on his fingers and tongue.

It was ridiculous, truly ridiculous, how fast he was able to find that sweet spot that had you falling apart. His fingers felt so good you couldn't stop the moans coming out of your mouth.

Not that Bob minded. In fact, with the pretty sounds you were making, combined with your addicting taste, he couldn't help but grind his hips into the mattress, looking for some type of relief.

You saw the action (he wasn't trying to hide it) and it caused your hips to buck up towards his face because holy shit, how was this man real?

"You taste so good," He groaned into you, sending vibrations all the way up your spine.

"A-and you say m-my mouth is killer," you managed to grit out.

Bob chuckled, sending more vibrations throughout your body.

You felt a third finger thrust against your walls. The grip you had on his hair was so tight, you were surprised he hadn't complained about it (maybe he liked it, anything was fair game at this point).

His name fell from your lips over and over again, like a prayer. Not that there was anything holy about what his mouth and fingers were doing. As if he could sense the coil in your lower stomach tightening, he placed his other hand on your abdomen, applying pressure.

You lunged forward, as much as you could with your thighs wrapped around his head as the coil snapped. It hit you like a strong wave, causing you to come up and crash down over and over again.

His fingers and tongue kept working through your orgasm, prolonging your high. The lewd sounds of your wetness against his fingers filled your bedroom.

"Fuck you taste amazing," you heard him say, his hips frantically rutting into your mattress.

"C-can I keep going?" He asked, his fingers still curling up against that sweet spot.

You groaned at the sight of his chin and lips covered in your slit, hoping he could see you nodding enthusiastically despite his glasses having fallen further down the bridge of his nose.

Bob's mouth went right back to your soaked core, lapping up your slick. Every time his nose bumped against your sensitive clit, a jolt of pleasure courses through your body.

His fingers were meticulous, curling against that spot over and over again with precision. You didn't expect his skills as a WSO to transfer into the bedroom, but it made sense. He had to be focused, whether it was on other jets or (in this case) making you come again.

What didn't make sense was how the guy who was so quiet and shy that his glasses fogged up when you kissed him on the cheek was now making you see stars.

All it took was for you to look down, your half-closed eyes meeting those deep blue, for you to come undone again. This one felt more intense, most likely due to the groans Bob was pressing against your slicked core.

You threw your head back, eyes closing your eyes as you rode through your current orgasm. When was the last time someone had made you come twice by eating you out? Has that ever happened?

You attempted to catch your breath as your brain processed what just happened.

Robert Floyd may be shy, but not in the bedroom. A pretty important lesson.

You were also pretty sure it would be the biggest mistake to not marry this guy, but you could think about that later.

Upon feeling long fingers gently stroked your cheek, you opened your eyes to find Bob's face now inches away from yours.

"D-did…..did you enjoy that?" Bob asked, a faint red flush creeping from his neck to his face.

Nodding your head, you smiled, "I think it's time I return the favor."

"Oh you don't, I mean not that I don't want you to, it's just, I uh, I-I-" as Bob rambled you looked down, noticing the dark, wet-looking spot that had formed at the crotch of his jeans. Realization hit you, causing you to clench your thighs.

He came from eating you out.

Yup, you were marrying this man. You'd be the biggest idiot not to.

"S-sorry," Bob stammered, his eyes looking everywhere but you.

Using your elbows, you propped yourself up, "Hey. It's fine. It's actually more than fine, it's really fucking hot."

His eyes widened, his demeanor resembling more of the shy, nervous man you first met in the library on that fateful day.

A hand flew to the back of his neck, "I just, I meant it, you sound really pretty when you make those noises. Not that you don't sound pretty when you don't make them. You're always pretty and you do taste amazing, whatever diet you're on-not that you should change for me- what I meant-"

You giggled as your hands cupped Bob's face, pulling him in for a kiss. Partly to throw him a rope, but mostly because you couldn't believe this sweet man was all yours.

He shifted his weight, his chest now directly on yours, deepening the kiss. As his hands found themselves on your waist, a familiar ache began between your thighs.

"It's just a shame," you broke away from his lips, "I like to think I have a pretty talented mouth too and was hoping to show you."

Bob's eyes darkened, his breathing now heavy.

"Give me fifteen minutes and I'll be ready. Plus that's enough time to get you out of this dress," He said, his tone serious.

Robert Floyd was full of surprises. But was that so bad?

#robert floyd x reader #robert floyd #bob floyd #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert floyd x you #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd smut #robert floyd fanfiction #bob top gun #top gun bob #top gun fanfiction #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fanfiction #bob x reader #bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd fic #lewis pullman #my writing #No one asked for 3K words of Bob being pussy drunk but here ya go

[leeknow-thoughts]

HE ONLY DATES PRETTY GIRLS

౨ৎ pairing : hwang hyunjin x FEM!reader

౨ৎ warnings : smut (not many details), fluff, college!au

౨ৎ a/n : kinda clearing out my drafts rn lol

It was an embarrassing realization, when you figured out you had fallen in love with him. He was out of your reach, and you knew it. Oh, how you know it.

"He only dates pretty girls," all of his friends seemed to say.

As if they themselves were reminding you of your place.

He was smart, he just needed math tutoring. Every Tuesday and Friday you'd go over to his frat house to help him with trigonometry. Every time you came over you'd learn something new about him. Every time he would also learn something new about you.

Last week you both had done less math and more talking. Speaking of everything from music to exams to shoes.

He was handsome. Even a blind man could see his beauty, because his beauty wasn't limited to that of his looks. He was beautiful in his voice, in his passion, in his kindness.

His presence was beautiful as well. Even if it were fleeting. Every moment with him felt fleeting. As soft as a feather but as heavy as a brick.

You find yourself at one of his parties. Sitting on his fraternity's couch, sweaty bodies surrounding you. "There you are! I can't believe you came!" you heard his voice in front of you.

When you looked up you saw him. He looked beautiful, as always, wearing simple blue jeans and a black tank top. Yet, he looked elegant.

"Uhm yeah of course! Thanks for inviting me!" you try and speak loud enough so that you can hear the words leaving your mouth over the music.

"Wanna come back to my room? It's a little loud here," he inquires.

Of course you obliged. He held your arm as he guided you through the hallways of the house. Up the stairwell and the first door on the left. His room was so, him.

It was clean and tidy. "Bet you have a lot of girls up here," the thought slips your mind before you can stop it from leaving your mouth.

He scoffs with fake offense, "is that what you think of me?"

You shrug, he takes a seat on the bed, patting the space beside him. He wants you to sit next to him. "I mean you only date pretty girls," you chuckle.

His face breaks in surprise, "did Jisung tell you that?"

You nod, remembering how the boy told you such after you informed him that Hyunjin was the one to invite you. "Well is it true?" you ask him lightly swinging your feet back and forth over the bed.

"I only date girls I find pretty," he responds genuinely, "I like girls that are smart and funny and that don't often go out to parties. I like girls that are kind, and that are good at math, those are the ones I find really pretty," he hums.

"Mhm," you pause, "do you like one of the girls in our math class?"

"Oh," his pitch falls, "no, I was talking about you, but yeah you're also in our math class so yeah."

All thoughts leave your head in that instant, "you think I'm pretty?"

"Why do you think it's impossible that I think you're pretty?" he questions.

"You're you," you point to him, "and I'm me," you point back to yourself.

"And you're perfect!" he exclaims.

A wave of silence washes over the room, nothing can be heard other than the beat of your heart. It felt like watching yourself stub your toe but wait those few seconds for the pain to kick in. But the pain never came. Maybe it didn't have to hurt the way you expected it would. Maybe it never would have hurt the way that you thought you knew it would.

And before you can think, before you can speak, his lips are on yours and your faces are inches apart and he's kissing you. He tastes like cherries and tequila he must've had earlier. He's kissing you. Hyunjin is kissing you. He's kissi-

"Why?" you sigh against his lips, not daring to fully part with him.

"Because I need you, I want you, please," he mumbles against your chapped lips.

You can't help but smile against his lips when he says that, "you want me?"

"Fuck yes," he mutters against your lips before pulling you into another sloppy kiss, "I fucking need you. I've needed you for so long."

You don't know where you find the confidence to say, "then take me."

And it doesn't hurt when he bottoms out inside you. Your bodies cling to each other, afraid of the emptiness without each other. Your hands gently trace down his stomach. Each of his thrusts send you closer and closer to the edge, you cling to him when you tumble over it. And it is oh, so perfect.

#bun.writes #bunwritesskz #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz #stray kids x you #skz x reader #stray kids #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin stray kids #hyunjin #hyunjin skz #hyunjin smut

[hyunjinswifelol]

study session. h.hj

warnings: weed, getting high, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f!receive), reader wheres skirt, reader is called y/n, reader is also fem mostly, hyunjin wears rings, reader is a teachers pet, use of slut

summary: reader goes to hyunjin to study, knowing hes really smart. they end up getting high together and do interesting things.

“excuse me, do you know which dorm room is uh.. hwang hyunjins dorm?” y/n asked. the front desk lady gave her a weird look. “why do you need to know?” “hes the smartest in my class and i need tutoring lessons” she said. “hes in room 238 on floor 4. be careful, hes not really a good kind of boy” “i-.. okay thanks!” y/n ran to the elevator, trying not to drop everything, including her bag. she pressed floor 4, and hoped he was even in his room. “room 238.. where is it” she questioned herself, wondering the halls. she found it. her heart was racing. she knocked. “y/n?..” “hyunjin!! hi, can you tutor me please? the math is terrible and-“ “you want me to tutor you?” hyunjin asked, sarcastically laughing. she nodded slowly, afraid he’ll turn her down. “is it too much? are you busy? do i need to come another time-“ “no y/n youre fine. i just wasnt expecting you to come to me” hyunjin said, scratching the back of his neck. she nodded again, less worried. he was much taller than her, she just realized. he was about 5’10, and she was about 5’2. hyunjin opened his door more and let her in. “thanks.. im sorry. i didnt mean to bother you or anything” she said, slightly looking down. “hey its okay.. i understand, schools hard you know? dont worry about it” she smiled and nodded. he was really cute she thought. “do you want a drink?” he asked. “sure.. do you have sweet tea?” hyunjin nodded. “oh sorry.. you can set your stuff down on my table and ill get everything ready” hyunjin said, pulling a chair out for her. “thanks, youre really a gentleman” she said, patting his arm. he blushed. “thanks.. i try to help nice to women. i also try to be nice to you, youre the most favorite in the school you know? the teachers love you” “my parents donated a bunch of money to the school, thats the only reason they love me” “youre really kind to them, they probably like that too, respecting teachers is really important” she nodded. he poured her a glass of tea. “do you smoke?” he asked, sitting down infront of her, handing her the tea. her eyes lit up, and went wide. “do i.. smoke?” he nodded. “do you? i have some weed, we can share a joint before we study, it’ll calm your nerves. youre tense honey” she nodded. “ive never done this before hyunjin.. is it okay?” “ofcourse it is, i wouldnt harm you” hyunjin stood up and went to the kitchen. y/n followed him. he went to roll a joint. he was rolling it up and making it a cigarette type to smoke. y/n was staring at his hands the whole time. the veins, the tings, the tendons, his long fingers. she wondered what they felt like inside her. no. she cant think like that. this is her classmate, and possibly new study friend. “your rings are cool” she softly said. “oh thanks! im glad you notic- how did you notice?..” he said. “i was staring” she mumbled, slightly embarrassed. “you were staring st my hands?” he said, genuinely confused. “yeah.. i mean you have nice hands” “thanks.. are you like.. obsessed with my hands?” “no.. i was just staring cause theyre nice. your nail polish is cool too” she smiled. “thanks” he smiled back at her. “okay done. wanna hit first?” “can you?.. i dont know how to do this” she said, looking at the floor embarrassed. “its okay, dont be embarrassed.. i wouldnt expect you to know how to smoke anyways” he said. he took a big hit, then blew out. “when you take a hit, you’ve gotta inhale it, be careful, it’ll make you cough” he handed it to her. “thanks” she said. she hit it, inhaled, choked a little, then blew out. “wow.. i feel weird” “its normal, after a few more puffs youll feel like youre floating, trust me sweetheart” he said. her cheeks got red at the pet name. she never really liked pet names if she’s completely honest, but she feels warm when he calls her pet names. he took another hit, and did it like a pro. she took another hit, but coughed alot. “its okay, youll get the hang of it” hyunjin reassured her. they took turns back and fourth. after a while, y/n felt very high, and very clingy. “hyunjin.. can we watch a movie?” she asked. “arent we supposed to study?”

“fuck studying” she said. his eyes went wide. she just cussed? “i-.. sure hun, what do you wanna watch?” “romance. like.. shrek!” “thats not a romance honey” he said laughing. “dont laugh.. and yes it is” “okay then..” he took her to the living room. he sat down. she was still standing though. “you can sit down you know..” he said smiling, but slightly confused. “can you spread your legs?” she mumbled. he nodded and did so. she sat in between them. he froze completely. “can you scoot back a little? i dont wanna fall off the couch” she looked back at him smiling innocently. he nodded. he scooted back. she layed back to where her back was against his chest. he got the remote and found shrek and started playing it. she hit the joint again. “jinnie i think im getting high.. am i okay?” she said, now being serious. “its normal love, trust me you’ll be okay” she nodded. she got herself comfortable. her head was resting in ghe crook of his neck, her thighs pressed together between his, her back against his chest, and her hands on his thighs. “this is comfy” she whispered. “good. it is” he smiled. her hair smelled really good. his arms were right beside his thighs, and y/n took that as an opportunity to gran then and wrap them around her waist. he looked down at it, and smiled. “hold me” she said. “okay honey” he said, smiling brighter than ever. she held the joint up to his lips and hetook a hit. she took a hit after him. she turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck, and her legs around his waist. his arms were loosly wrapped around her waist. “hi lovely” he said. she blinked a few times. then smashed her lips on his. he immediately kissed back. his arms tightened around her. she pulled away after a moment. “can we go to your room?” she shyly asked. “what are you wanting to do in there that we cant do in here?” he asked messing woth her soft hair. “can you make me feel good?” she mumbled. hyunjins pants got tight, and she felt that. she was acting so innocent but shes not at the same time, hyunjin loved it. y/n got up and waited for hyunjin to. “right down the hallway lovely” he said, and held her hand softly. she went and sat on his bed, and he closed his door. the only lightin there was a lamp. she stared at him. he stared backat her. “are you sure you want this?” she nodded. “ive never done it before but i want you to be my first hyunjin. please?” she whispered. he nodded. he wanted this as much as she did. hes fucked multiple girls, but none like her. hes always thought that y/n was special and innocent and pretty, but that innocent thought was long gone. hyunjin kissed her, and they started making out. his tounge slid in her mouth, and he bit her bottom lip- making her whine. hyunjin felt his dick get harder. he slowly pushed her down to where she was laying on her back. his hands roamed her body, and she loved it. her mind and his were all fuzzy, most likely from being stoned, but for her it was that and the feeling of his hands all over her. his hand went down to her wet pussy. he broke the kiss. “do you want me to touch you sweetheart?” he asked, teasing her. “yes please” she whined. he rubbed her clothed clit and she moaned. “lets take these panties off okay?” he said, rubbing up and down her thighs. she nodded. he slip them down to her ankles and threw them somewhere across the room. hyunjin rubbed her clit, and it felt even better with her panties off. “you like that? you like my fingers touching you?” “yes- feels s-so good” she moaned out. hyunjin pushed his middle finger in her entrance. she whined and threw her head back on the bed. “you wanna lay down love?” he asked, still fingering her. she nodded. she scooted back to where her back was slightly against the headboard. he crawled in between her legs and he was face to face with her pussy. “can i?” he asked. “please” she whispered. and just like that that, his face was burried in her pussy. his tounge going in and out of her entrance at a fast pace. y/n’s mind was fully blank, only the thought of hyunjin eating her out like a pro. she grabbed his hair.

hyunjin looked up at her. she closed her eyes and whined. hyunjin came up and kissed her, and started fingering her again- but with two fingers. “hyunjin” she moaned. “yes darling? you like it? you like taking my fingers?” he softly said, playing with her hair in his other hand. she nodded and whined. “you look so fucking pretty. a princess getting fucked in that slutty skirt.. my princess getting fucked in her slutty skirt” she moaned. she liked him calling her a slut. “im your slut?” she whispered. “yes darling youre my little slut okay? youre my princess, my slutty princess” he said, fingering her at the fastest pace possible. “hyun- your fingers” y/n moaned out. “my fingers? you like them? they making my princess feel good?” he asked kissing her forehead. “yes they feel so good-your rings they feel” she said before moaning. “they feel good dont they” he said. she nodded. “lets take this little shirt off okay?” he said, pulling her little pink crop top off. she covered her chest. “hey dont cover or be shy my love” he said slowly pulling her arms softly. “here ill take mine off so youre not alone lovely” he said removing his fingers from her pussy. “hyunjin-“ she whined, feeling empty. “i know darling, youll get what you want soon, i promise” he whispered, taking his shirt off and going back down on her again. “you taste like heaven darling” he whispered. he sucked her clit, and she almost screamed. she bucked her hips in his face, practically riding it. “hyunjin im gonna cum- please can i?” she cried. “yes love” he tounge fucked her for a minute and she came right in his mouth. he slurped her juices and came up to kiss her again. she tasted herself. “lets get this slutty skirt off hm?” he said. she nodded, and he ripped it right off. he got off the bed for a minute. he unbuckled his pants and slid them off, as well as his boxers. his cock sprung right out. her eyes went wide in fear. it looked about 9 inches. she was worried it wouldnt fit. “will it fit hyunjin?” she whispered. “yes love, dont worry okay? ill take care of you” he said, laying her down. he aligned his cock with her hole. “im gonna go in slowly okay? squeeze my hand if it hurts” he whispered. he offered his hand and she held it. he pushed in his tip. she squeezed his hand a little. “you okay darling?” he whispered, his thumb carresing her knuckles. she nodded. “you got this” he whispered. he pushed in another 3 inches. he waited a moment and pushed in a few more inches. he still had about 4 more inches to go. so, he went balls deep in her pussy. “youre tight love” he said, smiling at her. “youre big hyunie” she said, eyes welled with tears. “do you want me to move now?” he asked, holding her hand tight. she nodded. he moved about halfway out and pushed back in very slow. he repeated that for a few minutes. “hyun.. faster please” she whispered, eyes shut tight. he hummed an ‘mhm’ and picked up his pace. “shit” he whispered. he went faster now. she moaned his name a few times. “hyunjin faster-“ she said, and then he went at a rapid pace. she moaned even louder than before. “im gonna cum darling, can i cum in you?” he asked. she nodded, tears streaming from her eyes. she felt herself getting closer too. she clenched around him, and then he came. she came a few seconds after him. he layed beside her. she was panting. “you did great love” he said, still holding her hand. sweat was dripping down his neck. she lookrd over at him, and stared at the sweat. she caused that sweat. “lets get cleaned up and head to bed hm?” he said. “im staying here tonight?” she asked. hyunjin stood up and went to grab a towel. “yeah.. if you want to obviously” he said and smiling at her. “can i sleep in here?” she asked, stars in her eyes. “ofcourse lovely” he cleaned themselfs off. she put her underwear and bra on. he put some boxers amd sweatpants on. “hyunjin?” “hm?” “can i borrow a shirt?” “ofcourse, let me get you one” he said. he walked to his closet and found a white t shirt. he handed it to her and kissed her forehead. she smiled and giggled. “what?” he asked.

“you give me butterflies when you kiss my forehead” she said, looking up at him and smiling. “then ill do it more often” he cockily said. she put the shirt on and collapsed on his bed. he layed doen next to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. she rolled over and shoved her face in his chest. “you smell good” she mumbled. “do i?” “mhm” he smiled. he kissed her forehead. “goodnight darling” he said. “goodnight jinnie” “love you” “love you too” she smiled. her face was in his neck and her arms were around his neck, while his was around her waist. they both eventually fell asleep.

#hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #hwang hyunjin smut

[sourpatchys]

My personal Headcannons for Daryl Dixon that I will defend with my life

Just a warning! there is some nsfw❤️‍🔥 content in this list (not a ton)

This is a list full of random Headcannons I have, some are xreader related, some are just fun little things I’d like to believe because they’re fun

He l o v e s head scratches and chin scratches, just like a dog, his mom used to do it to him as a kid, it’s just really comforting to him

He is 100% dyslexic, he’s super insecure about it, which is why he leaves reading and writing up to anyone else who’s willing to do it.

This dude is secretly a math wiz. It came super easy to him, but he does tend to keep it on the down low because it was never something he was allowed to be proud of as a child, and it’s not really a needed skill anymore

I personally do not believe Daryl did anything hard while running around with Merle, Shrooms and weed were his limit 99.99% of the time, unless he felt pressured, but even then it would take a lot of convincing

He’s very self conscious about how thick his accent can get, he grew up in a much more rural area than the rest of Rick and Co. (apart from Maggie of course) and he feels out of place with his speech patterns at times.

Daryl was definitely a highschool drop out, assuming his birthday is January 6th, he left as soon as he was old enough to do it without a parent’s consent (18)

I just know this man never got his license. Can you imagine him paying his way through classes and taking a drivers test? I can’t. He probably just got a state ID for booze and just drove around illegally (if he got an ID at all, I’m sure he knew quite a few places that didn’t card)

He runs hot, the cold is a lot easier for him to handle than the heat, which is why he tended to wear sleeveless shirts or half sleeves

He has never had a “crush” in his life. He’s thought people were hot before, of course he has, but romance was never really on his mind

He’s not a total virgin, but he’s not exactly skilled either. His body count is probably 3, and I guarantee you he was not sober before, during, or after.

He’s a thigh and breast man. Hands down.

I know deep in my soul that this man enjoys some face sitting.

He’s not an overly sexual guy, if you were asexual he’d be okay with never doing anything, so long as you were happy

If you’re nonbinary, he was definitely mean to you at the start, with the way he was raised it simply didn’t make any since to him, BUT once you get closer and he starts to trust you, he might (he will) start asking some questions to understand you better

He isn’t a pet name kinda guy. He’s completely on board with calling you sunshine or princess, but anything past that just isn’t for him, and he really isn’t a fan of you giving him one either, unless it’s just a joking matter like how Carol calls him “pookie” from time to time

He’s a morning person and he hates it. He always wakes up at the ass crack of dawn, and every time he wishes he hadn’t.

He is definitely an insomniac, likely derived from having night terrors as a kid

He’s definitely self conscious about his scars, but not enough to cause issues if anyone happened to see them, he isn’t ashamed of them, but he doesn’t want to explain where their from, and he genuinely hasn’t thought of a good enough lie to tell instead.

When rick saw them for the first time Daryl had him fully convinced he was in a fight with a bear for about a week (rick never asked for the real reason)

He has a heavy sweet tooth, and likes to keep hard candy with him at all times (if possible) and he has never, and will never, pass up chocolate in any form.

He genuinely has chicken scratch for handwriting, he does not plan on ever attempting to make it easier to read, he enjoys the struggle people face when he’s put in a position where he has to write anything down. (Plus it helps conceal his errors if they do figure it out)

He does genuinely want kids in his life. Even if they can’t be his biologically. Being “uncle Daryl” is the best feeling he’s ever experienced, and he really wants to experience that with you if you’d allow it/want it (he would never pressure you to have kids)

Headaches and migraines plague his existence and they always have

He had super long hair as a kid and one of his punishments was his dad shaving it all off, which is why he kept it short until after the outbreak.

He would let you paint his toenails, or match his middle finger with whatever polish you decided to wear

This dude HATES clowns. Seeing a walker in a clown get up would absolutely kill him on the inside

You got sick? Don’t worry about it, he will absolutely attempt to make you soup from scratch using bone marrow and whatever else he can find

Fishing is not his thing. He knows how to, but he much prefers just catching them by hand or with a spear.

The closer you two get, the more likely he is to try and convince you that Bigfoot is real

Daryl is a secret star wars fan

He does NOT like country music, Led Zeppelin, Rob zombie, Ozzy osbourne and Lamb of god are much more his thing

He wasn’t a technology kind of guy, so if you tried to explain any aspect of social media to him he’d be completely lost (he didn’t even have a cellphone)

He has a super dry sense of humor

If he had to choose between starving to death or eating plain Cheerios, he would choose death.

One of the reasons he isn’t big on showering is because he doesn’t have a strong immune system from his childhood neglect, and he doesn’t want to shock his body and get sick

He also just hates the way soap feels on his skin. It’s way too sticky

During sex, he’s not strictly dominant or submissive, he’s ready to adapt to whatever you want, even if that means being strictly vanilla

He’s afraid of Santa Clause

And the Easter bunny

He’s willing to try anything once, even if he doesn’t think he’ll like it

He knows a lot of information on plants and herbs, so depending on your mood, he’ll try to find a flower to brighten your day with a little scribbled note explaining its meaning (because you can actually read his atrocious writing)

He’s never once told you he loves you, and your relationship wasn’t a spoken fact. His actions tend to speak louder than words, and if you say you love him, he will occasionally reply with a “back at ya.” Or “me too”

He always has weird shit in his pockets, like cool rocks he found, dead flowers, and fallen leaves.

He genuinely does not understand a single thing that Eugene says, and he never has.

The first time he ever kisses you on his own (you 100% have to make the first move) it’s a very rough and embarrassed act where he just grabs you and plants one in ya before you can even think about what’s happening

He will change his favorite color to whatever yours is, because if you can see beauty in it, then it’s all he can see from then on out

#daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion x reader #twd #daryl dixion imagine #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #twd daryl

[mysterycitrus]

Hiii can i ask ur thoughts abt damian... lately ive been a little obsessed and u have such a great grasp on dc canon... id love to hear what u think abt him !!!

for damian, a huge part of his motivation is (both real and imagined) disrespect. there’s this pervasive interpretation of him where he’s a swing the sword first, ask questions later kinda guy, but the truth is that he gets provoked, interprets this as someone being condescending, then acts.

tim is kind of an asshole when they first meet, and damian has no context for when he’s joking or not. dick is an adopted child, who threatens damian’s place in the hierarchy. tim put him on a list of people he specifically doesn’t trust, etc. he can definitely be very rude, absolutely, and a lot of that ties into how addresses people (“grayson” to “richard,” as an example, from his surname to his first name as dick earns his trust). he’s very rude to steph, and ironically damian is also very condescending depending on who he’s talking to, but again he has a high opinion of himself and how he should be treated by others. the biggest change is that he learns that others are also owed respect, regardless of their birthright or status.

a lot of this ties into bad faith interpretations of him as a literal feral baby, when that just isn’t reflected in canon at all. he’s talia’s kid, he was raised as literal royalty, and he does not need etiquette lessons from alfred pennyworth. he doesn’t bite people at galas, he doesn’t need help to do his math homework, and he respects u when u prove urself to him. he starts out with a very distinct black and white idea of the world, and slowly learns otherwise.

im a big fan of steph and damian’s friendship in particular, because like dick she exists in opposition to his worldview. she isn’t a wayne or an al ghul, she’s just a person who independently decided to do good. she was also mistrusted to the point where it led to her death, but she is still kind, still loving, and still motivated by empathy. the same as dick being batman, that’s confronting. she looks past what everyone else sees (the al ghul heir, a murderer, etc) and acknowledges that he’s a little kid who’s never learnt to play.

because he’s prickly, it’s easy to misinterpret his intentions. the same as bruce, even when he’s being respectful, people can assume the worst out of him. and that’s hard! he genuinely wants to do good. he has to unpack so much in his head about how to act, and what the idea of respect means in this new context. him being robin is a crucial part of that — it isn’t an insulting mantle as a placeholder for his eventual ascension into the bat, it’s simply something more.

#i hope that makes sense idk me brain no work good #damian wayne #stephanie brown #robin #batfam #dc comics #the ask and the answer #ty for the q!

[elentarial]

Miscalculation

Dear Morifinwe,

I recently had the privilege of reading your treatise on Dwarven tariffs and found it fascinating reading indeed. I don’t suppose you hear that often. However, I was wondering if you could perhaps clarify the situation on the 36th page, just under the table of tares of standard shipping containers. I was under the impression when one converted between ounces and gallons (which, why aren’t you using liters as a standard unit of liquid measurement??), the multiplier is 0.0078126, but you have it listed as 0.0078125. Does the Naugrim measure alcoholic liquids differently? As you have only two sentences describing the conversion of Dwarvish mead, I can not determine whether it is a typographical error or if I have been misinformed. If the latter is the case, any more explicit suggestion or direction would be appreciated since (as I have pointed out) your explanation in the paper is relatively brief.

Sincerely yours,

Turukano

Dear Turukano,

I am delighted that you enjoyed my protocols for trade in East Beleriand! In regards to your question about whether dwarves measure alcohol differently than other liquids, no Turno, an ounce is an ounce. You have been misinformed. The conversion factor is indeed 0.0078125.

Thank you,

Carnistir Morifinwe,

Dear Moryo,

Thank you for the quick and brief reply. However, I digress, the conversion multiplier is 0.0078126. It was that in Tirion, and it is that now. Please explain your computations. 

Looking forward to your reply,

Turukano

Dear Turno,

I am the one who devised that conversion. I don’t need to prove my work to you because I came up with it in the first place. Any possible discrepancies are due to rounding errors. The conversion is valid.

Carnistir

Dear Moryo,

I am well aware that you first calculated the conversion between ounces and gallons. I sat on the council that granted you the defense of such a claim, and if you will recall, I questioned your math then. You were wrong in Tirion, and you are wrong now.

Awaiting your reply,

Turgon

Turgon,

How delightful to know you remember our time together at the Royal Academy of Arts and Sciences. I have no recollection of your involvement in my defense, but I really try to avoid thinking of you. Were you there? I thought you were too busy being henpecked by the campus gulls to accomplish anything, research or otherwise.

Carnistir

Moryo,

I generally thought you were one of the better brothers; don’t be an ass. Just admit you are wrong. 

Sincerely,

Turgon Turukano,

 Lord of Nevarast,

 High Prince of the Noldor

My dearest Turukano,

What a lovely title that is. Quite fitting for your already overinflated ego, but I genuinely hate to remind you that you are a second son and not, in fact, the High Prince of anything. Unless, of course, condolences are in order, then I also do not care because I find your brother infuriatingly obnoxious. I would feel for Nelyo, though. 

Yours,

Moryo

Dear Carnistir,

Nelyo…remind me, is that your eldest brother or our grandfather? I can never remember who was born first, him or my father. Regardless, he’s ancient and an inappropriate match for my brother. 

But I beseech you, dearest cousin. Please take a look at your defense from Tirion. I believe there is a note regarding the conversion on the final copy. I don’t have a copy with me, but I am sure you must have kept one for yourself. 

Yours,

Turgon

My darling Turno,

At least we agree on one thing. Fingon and my brother are terrible for one another. 

I do happen to have a copy in my archives. I will check for this mythical correction and have my scribe translate a copy for you. I will enclose it in my next reply, as it’s rather embarrassing to doubt the work of scholars. 

With love,

Moryo

Turukano,

Fuck you. There was no correction; the rate has always been 0.0078125. This exchange has been a complete waste of my time, and I will implore Himring to approve an additional one point five percent tax on all limestone coming from and all other goods going to Vinyamar. 

Sincerely,

Morifinwe

Despite all of Caranthir’s immense irritation, the final letter to Nevarast is returned some months later by an exhausted raven. Shortly thereafter, he receives word from Hithlum that Turgon and one-third of the Noldor forces in West Beleriand have disappeared. 

@silmarillionepistolary

For @cilil (who suggested Caranthir and Tax Day as a prompt) and @dalliansss (who originally did the heavy lifting on building Caranthir’s taxation empire).

Miscalculation (on AO3)

#silmarillion epistolary #nolofinweans #feanorions #silm fic

[peterparkouryo]

rebound ii | ✧.*

✧.*

prompt; After Peter ends your relationship after admitting to being in love with someone else, you're a mess and very very miserable.

warnings: semi heavy angst, fluff if you squint

word count: 4.7k

part one part three

It's been four days since your birthday, and your break up with Peter. 

You were sad, no you were miserable since that day and you cried every chance you got. It's not because it was on your birthday, if it was any other day you'd probably be just as worst.

Today was Monday, which meant today was also another dreadful, long and dragging, boring day of school. You'd rather be in your bed, eating ice cream as you cried watching a rom-com that was just as bad as your life.

When you got to school, you went straight to your locker, put your things inside and got all needed accessories for your upcoming class. The first class you needed to be at was social studies, which thankfully didn't have him in it, just your friend Betty and his friend Ned.

"Hey, Happy belated birthday!" Betty quickly exclaims the moment you walk into the class room, a couple students glancing at you or her in curiosity.

You send a grateful and albeit, weak smile as you slowly but surely make your way to your assigned seat which just so happens to be right next to her.

"Thanks." You softly mumble just as you sit next to her, the blonde haired girl excitedly turning towards you with too much anticipation.

"So, how was your birthday?" She asked.

"Also, sorry I couldn't be there." Betty quickly added before you could answer.

You wanted to tell her that it was fine, that you enjoyed your birthday with just you and your mom but the last final hour of your birthday was truly the worst part of that whole 24 hour day.

"It's fine, umm, I guess it was okay." You tell her, leaving out the very heartbreaking details you so badly wanted to tell her.

"Did Peter shower you in presents? Did he take you on a date!?" Ohh, did he give you that necklace that you've been ogling for the past few months?" Betty asked, question after question.

Now, you had no other choice but to tell her, and quite frankly, you did not want that to be the agenda for the day, but curse Betty and her curious, bubbly personality.

"Actually, we broke up." You tell it how it is, not sparing to glance at her bewildered expression.

"Broke up?" She repeated in disbelief. 

You hum in response, digging into your backpack next to you and pulling out your notebook to jot down the notes on the board, completely trying to block out Betty and her confusion.

"When?" Betty quizzed, her eyes switching back and fourth from your notebook and your side profile.

"He broke up with me, on my birthday." You tell her, looking back down to your notebook, now scribbling nonsense.

Before she could even respond, you continue.

"Apparently, he was in love with Michelle, you know the girl from our math class? The whole entire time. Well, I don't exactly know when he fell in love with her, but it certainly was during our relationship." You rambled, holding back the frustration and tears that threatened to break through.

days you've been going through for the past few days. You still think it's your fault for why Peter broke up with you, he probably found you boring and you didn't give him the attention he needed, which is why you strongly believe he fell for someone much better than you.

You didn't hate Michelle, you actually genuinely liked the brown curly haired girl, she was quiet and observant and super smart, so you can see why Peter liked her a lot. She could also be dark at times from what you remember, and sure it confused you of how and why Peter liked that but maybe you didn't know your ex as well as you thought.

"Y/N, I am so sorry." Betty said, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder, which you didn't shrug off because you honestly needed some sort of comfort from the past few days.

"It's nothing, I'll be fine." You lied, turning your attention away from her to look at the board once again as the teacher finally decided to teach the class.

--

It was finally lunch time, and normally you'd sit with Peter and Ned, but that was a no go. Well, it would've been a no go if the other tables weren't full and if Ned hadn't invited you to sit next to him. And who were you to decline an invitation from the nicest boy ever?

So, you made your way to the table that was made for awkward moments, only seeing Ned sit there happily eating his lunch.

"Oh, hi Y/N." Ned greeted you just as you sat directly across from him with your lunch tray in hand.

"Hey." You greeted back, showing a smile.

You knew you were going to regret sitting here, given the fact that Peter is bound to sit here as well and there's no doubt that Michelle would be sitting here also, but you tried to ignore that initiated gut feeling and focus on anything and everything else.

Maybe if Peter saw that you were trying to move on, he'd believe that you did, though all of that is complete and utter bullshit.

"So, you know how in our science class we have that upcoming project about disparities?" You hear Ned's voice ask, glancing at him just in time as he shoves a salty fry into his mouth.

You nod, playing with your food instead, the anxiety slowly creeping into your body.

"Well, I was thinking since you and uhh...you know what never mind. Do you want to be my partner?" Ned questioned quickly, eyes filled with hope.

"Are you only asking me because I'm the smartest in that class?" You tease, narrowing your eyes at him in amusement.

Ned lets out a whole-heartedly chuckle, but before he could joke back a voice you very much expected interrupts you both.

"Sorry, the lunch line was really long..." Peter says defeatedly, tossing his friend a bag of chips  as he sat down next to him.

Okay, so maybe you should've declined Ned's offer, but he was sort of your friend and you didn't have lunch with Betty anymore, plus sitting alone would probably be just as miserable as sitting here with your ex, who was in love with someone else.

You're sure you hear Ned respond to Peter's apology, but you're not quite too sure since your brain and ears are filled with anxiety, your head feeling fuzzy at Peter's presence. You could sometimes occasionally feel Peter's glances, probably curious as to why you're sitting here, but you wanted to make a point that you're over him and you didn't sit here because you cared about him still (which was a lie), but because Ned invited you and he was your sort of friend.

"Michelle's in the library today, since she's not really a people's person." Peter informed Ned after his question as of where the brown curly haired girl was.

You were thankful for that, you didn't think you could handle much more of misery.

You're not one hundred precent sure if they're dating now, but if they are you failed to notice, and maybe Peter is just deciding to take things slow since the boy did just get out of a relationship, with you.

The boys continue to make small talk, you ate in silence, or played with your food in silence until the lunch period was over.

And as soon as the bell rung, you hurriedly got up from the table, threw away your lunch and made a bee-line for the cafeteria doors, shoving and squeezing your way through the herd of students.

You sighed in relief as you made it into the hallway, holding a hand to your chest, almost, just almost crying right then and there but you remembered that you were in public, and at school too.

Just as the students that once littered the busy hallway made their ways to the next class that they had, you heard your name being called in the now shallow hallway.

You turn around hesitantly since you already know that voice all too well.

It wasn't Peter, but Michelle, coming from the library doors.

You always knew somehow god wasn't on your side.

"Hey, uh..." The girl started as soon as she approached you, a clad of books stuffed in her right arm.

"Hey.." You mumbled awkwardly, sparing glances at a few students who walked by to get to their next class.

Michelle was as awkward as you were, it was very obvious in the way that the tension around you surfaced rather quickly. You both knew why, it was an unsaid understanding.

"I think I owe you an apology." Michelle states, her eyes never leaving your face as you slowly trailed yours to look into hers.

"For what?" You dumbly ask.

You knew why, you just needed to hear her say it.

"I never meant for Peter to fall in love with me, and to hurt you. I honestly didn't think you two were a thing until a week ago." She admitted, and you could sense how nervous her voice was with that confession.

 You knew you had a reason not to hate her, she was just as confused as you.

"It's fine, really." You lie, showing a rather obvious fake smile.

"No, no, it's not. I know he broke up with you on your birthday which is a really shitty thing to do, and I also know that it's not fine. If I could take back his feelings for me and give them to you, I would." Michelle concluded, her aura anything but foulness.

It was really reassuring knowing that the girl felt guilty for your now ex's feelings for her, her showing you the unexpected sympathy, something you thought would be the last thing you would receive from her.

But it was always really confusing how if she has feelings for Peter as well, why feel sorry for you? You did want him to be happy, and if it wasn't with you, so be it. You didn't want to be the reason Peter's unhappiness wasn't fulfilled.

"Michelle, listen." You started, standing up straight to look at her.

"I may be going through a lot with this, but I don't want to be the reason Peter is unhappy. That's the last thing I ever want for him. So, if he wants to be with you..." You trailed off with a shrug, hoping she understood where you were going with this.

Instead of answering the girl just stares at you, her eyes confused, as well as her facial expression, the features slowly falling into a more understanding expression, something you wanted her to see.

"Are you sure? I didn't want to get in the way of any unsaid closure..." She says, pressing her lips into a straight line.

Closure. The word only used to resolve problems. You didn't think breaking up with Peter needed closure.

"Oh, right...closure. I guess we do need to talk." You sigh.

"I would before he decides anything else. I mean that is if you're ready, it's only been four days." Michelle tells you, pushing up her books more into her arm as they were slipping.

You knew she was right, you did say yourself you wanted Peter to be happy, even if it was in a short amount of time.

"I'll just text him and ask him to meet me in the library after school." You tell her, hearing the bell ring, signalling the final warning to get to class.

"Good idea, tell me what he says." Michelle says with a nod before walking past you, mumbling a soft 'bye', and you too decide to make your way to your next period.

--

You unfortunately kept true to your word to Michelle, and as soon as your last period was over you texted the last person you wanted to see, asking him if you two could talk and to meet in the library after school.

It only took him maybe five or six minutes to respond, saying a quick 'okay'.

So here you were, really nervous, scared, maybe even sad for obvious reasons, waiting at a table that was way in the back of the library, not wanting to be disturbed by any teachers or students that lingered around in the book filled room.

You silently played with your fingers, your entire body on fire with anxiety. You sort of wished he would hurry up so it can get over and done with.

To be quite honest, it reminds you of the time he admitted to having a crush on you. You both were nervous for two totally different reasons. You, being nervous because you thought he was going to tell you he didn't want to be your friend anymore (and rightfully so because of how he was acting during that time), and him, because he of course liked you.

Any oncoming thoughts were caught short as your gaze was met with a familiar head set of curls, and compelling brown eyes coming your way, in a dazed state.

"Sorry, I uh...was busy." Peter mumbled, setting his backpack (the third one you saw that week), onto the library floor next to the seat he pulled out to sit down at.

"It's fine." You shrugged off, your hands now in your lap, keeping your distance, something you hope he didn't notice.

"So, what is it you wanted to talk about?" He asked, looking at you expectingly.

It took a lot of will power to keep your composure.

"Well, I talked to Michelle.." You trailed off, watching his every movement, seeing his pupils dilate just tiny bit.

"Oh?" Peter questioned, slightly biting his lip nervously.

"Yeah, she said we needed some sort of closure before you decide to get into a relationship to her." You told him, looking down at your fiddling hands in your lap.

Peter took notice of how truly nervous you were, and he couldn't help but feel bad, knowing he was the main reason for this.

He also noticed the lack of sleep, due to the much obvious under bags in your eyes, something he had a feeling also had to do with him.

"Right, closure." Peter nodded, clearing his throat.

There were a load of questions you had for him, many that probably would help you better understand how, when and why he fell out of love with you the moment he spent more time with Michelle.

His distance from you during the upcoming end of your relationship put you in a spiral of thoughts, the kind of thoughts that kept you up at night. It also didn't help that you were already an over thinker and the thought of messing up your relationship with Peter always scared you.

Most people would say that dreams come true not nightmares. It wounded you more than anything that you biggest fear did in fact come true.

You didn't really care if he was going to end up dating Michelle, it was bound to happen anyway. You just wanted to know the when and why. You wanted to know what you lacked during that time so in future relationships, you'd be able to avoid it.

"Before we talk, I, um, bought you this." You hear Peter say, the boy reaching inside of his backpack, digging in it before retreating it with an item, holding it toward you.

You reluctantly look up from where your eyes were practically trained on your lap, your hands still shyly there.

It was a small box decorated in your favourite colour, purple.

"What's this?" You curiously asked, taking it from his expecting hand.

"Just a late birthday gift." Peter shrugged, obviously not aware of just how inappropriate and inconvenient his timing was.

"Oh." Was all you said before stuffing it in your pocket.

You'd open it later.

As the day went on, the awkward tension build up, rarely anyone now was in the library, a few ongoing studiers, parents with their kids, or just advocate readers. You wanted some sort of miracle to happen so you wouldn't have to go through this uncomfortable situation.

It was clear neither of you knew how to start this conversation. You had no idea what to say or how to approach the topic of the closure you needed.

You couldn't tell if Peter noticed how miserable your appearance was, both mentally and physically, but you knew he must have known somehow.

"I'm really sorry I broke up with you on your birthday, had I known...I'd probably would've waited." Peter finally speaks up, with a heavy lump down his throat.

Your hands bare on the table as you shuffle in your seat, preparing on a proper response.

The thought of Peter going to break up with your regardless if it was your birthday or not makes your heart feel heavy with a forlorn weight.

"It's, I, it's okay, I guess." You murmur, blinking rapidly for effect.

Another silence settled, and this time you did nothing (like you were before) to speak up and stop it. You thought the more quiet, the less talking and you wouldn't get hurt anymore if either one of you even tried to utter a word.

"I know I hurt you," The boy started, and you look up, waiting for him to continue. "But, I can't say that I, you know what, never mind." Peter waves off, struggling to find the write words.

"And you're barely saying anything makes this a lot harder than it should be Y/N." He says in defeat, reaching out to clasp his hands onto yours.

There was nothing on your end, nothing to be said, nothing you wanted to say. Though you needed closure, you really had no idea what to say. How do you tell someone that you clearly still had feelings for that you love him?

Peter of course, had no idea you even loved him, he of course knew you probably still harboured feelings for him, but he didn't know you had stronger deeper feelings for him. Had the boy not broken up with you on your birthday, you probably would slipped the L word, which probably wouldn't make anything better if you're being honest.

"I'm sorry, I just....don't know what to say." You admit, the warmth of his skin on top of yours sending a wave of shivers from your arms through your entire body.

"Start by telling me how you feel." Peter suggested, and that might not had been the brightest of ideas.

You felt like shit. There hadn't been a day that went by after your dreadful birthday where you didn't.

You squint your eyes at him, slowly removing your hands from his grasp.

"I feel like shit." You tell him, giving the boy a timid look, watching him nod slowly in understanding.

"Right, probably should've guessed that." Peter said shyly, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Sorry." He adds on.

"You say that a lot, but do you actually mean it?" You ask him quietly, watching his pupils dilate at your request.

"'Course I do!" Peter almost exclaims, his eyes now wide.

"I-, listen I know I hurt you bad, but the last thing I want is for you to hate me." He stated, pouting slightly.

You didn't hate him, and you think that's even worse.

"I don't hate you, don't think I ever can." You say, pressing your lips together.

It'd probably be a good thing to tell him you loved him, but you were in public and it would hurt even worst if he neglected your love (which would most likely happen) in such a public area.

Maybe you should wait till later, or just honestly get it over and done with, the sooner the better, you thought.

"If I'm being honest Peter, I think-" You begin, your heart pounding wildly against your chest. Your head screaming at you not to do it, but when have you ever listened to your head instead of your heart?

"I think I love you." You whisper at your quietest volume, and hopefully god was on your side,. Hoping maybe Peter didn't hear it, but you lacked the knowledge of knowing Peter's secret abilities.

Either time froze or Peter was stuck in place for whatever reason (you were sure you knew) it was. Things seemed to have frozen around you, the people you were once aware of now gone, just you and your ex in this moment. And was it such a vulnerable one.

You watch as the boy's mouth fell open and closed, trying to conjure up something, anything to say at your sudden confession.

Your heart fell deeper into your stomach as the silence grew, you wished this time it wasn't so evident, the lack of ventilate from him bothering your head.

After a two minutes of silence Peter quickly gets up from his seat, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder almost clumsily.

"I-, I havetogo, sorry." The boy swiftly says, stumbling over his words before nearly tripping over a few chairs.

You figured this wouldn't happen, which might have been ten times worst than him actually saying something in return.

--

You had wiped the falling tears from your face, the mirror in front of you mocking your actions, but no matter what, the wet substance from your eyes would still fall down a lot heavier.

You sniffled before exiting the bathroom, making a beeline to your bedroom, closing the door and cuddling up into the bed.

After your conversation (if you'd even call it that) with Peter at the library, the minute you got home, you were hit with a wave of saddness. You cried more than you did on your birthday, and now you wish you hadn't told your ex boyfriend you loved him, didn't matter anyway.

You were grateful your mom had a late shift tonight, you couldn't bare the thought of her seeing you at your worst, questioning why you were the way you were. You lacked to even tell the woman you and Peter were no longer dating. You figured you'd wait a few weeks then drop the bomb on her, hopefully she'd spare Peter, but given her personality, you truly doubt it.

The crying hadn't really stopped, so when your face hit your soft pillows and more tears that got more intense as the night went on, you weren't all that surprised.

What did surprised you was the obsessive knocking at your bedroom window.

You didn't bother to wipe your tears when you sat up from your bed, aiming your direction at the window, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion when you saw your neighbourhood superhero instead of some sort of bird.

"Spider-Man?" You questioned bewilderedly as you approach your bedroom window, opening it from its handle.

You knew of him from the news, and it was really shocking to you that him of all people were here at your window at something at night for whatever the reason was.

"What are you doing here?" You ask him again, watching the hero crouch on the railing of your fire escape.

"Believe it or not but I heard you..." He says steadily, and you rose an eyebrow at him.

"Not that I was you know listening or anything, but I was near by and my senses can pick up things from far away." Spider-Man quickly says, holding out a hand in defence.

"Oh." You say, tilting your head as you wiped your tears.

"Seemed like a damsel in distress sort of thing..." He trailed off, expectingly waiting for your response.

You had no reason to tell this stranger your secrets, you both knew that, but something inside of you wanted to. You hadn't even known the hero for five seconds and yet you were ready to tell him your deepest darkest confessions.

"It's nothing." You settled for, having some moral ground.

"Sad movie?" Spider-Man suggested.

"Yeah." You nod, sniffling a bit.

Maybe he thought you were in some sort of trouble, but the more you thought about it the less sense it made to to tell a stranger about your conversation with your ex at a public library. 

What advice could he possible give that would make you feel better? You don't know if he's ever even gone through something like that.

"Oh, well hope you feel better." Spider-Man offered. "Just doing my part of the 'friendly neighbourhood' motto." He adds, making you chuckle.

"Thanks." You smile.

You couldn't pin point it, but he seemed oddly familiar, maybe it was because he was so nice to you after your horrible day, week even, but you really appreciated his kind gesture.

"I-" He started, unravelling himself from his crouching position to stand on your fire escape.

"Y/N." Spider-Man says, and your eyes widen marginally.

Had you told him your name? You couldn't remember, but never the less even if you didn't, you wondered how he knew in the first place. Maybe you slipped it out from habit or he was some stalker type of hero.

The hero seemed to have noticed your confused state, the vigilante quickly ripping off his mask to try and calm your nerves, but you recognize his face all too well, instinctively going to shut the window, but unfortunately for your his senses way too quick for yours, his strength inhumane.

"Wait!" Peter cried out as you still tried to close the window but to no avail. 

Peter easily slides the window up, causing you to let go repulsively, backing up from it as he slowly climbed in.

Every bone in your body was telling you to run, but where would you go, who would you tell? Now you never would tell anyone about your ex being the Queens superhero, but you don't think you can bare having this secret known to you so suddenly.

Peter being Spider-Man is a surprise, of course, and him using his alter ego just to talk to you in some sense after quite literally running away from your confession was making your mind fuzzy to say the least.

You started to shake your head for no particular reason, watching the boy close your window before turning back to you, his hair wild most likely from the mask, and a evident pout on his face.

"You-, you love me?" Peter asked, his voice cracking.

You couldn't conjure up the right words, your mind blank with empty thoughts. It was still shocking to you that Peter of all people was the spiderling you only ever seen on the news.

You never paid much attention to Spider-Man, and if you did, you'd probably would have figured out that Peter was him if you connected the dots properly.

"Y/N, please answer me." He pleaded, breaking you from your train of thoughts. You were sure you looked like a deer caught in headlights at this point.

"I don't know..." You whispered, fiddling with with your fingers as sweat trickled down your forehead.

"But at the library you said-" Peter starts.

"I know what I said." You tell him, meeting his brown eyed gaze.

You blinked back tears, Peter approaching your figure, and you would had backed up to get away from him but you were stuck in-between him and the bed. Fortunately he placed his mask on top of your bed, releasing it from his brutal grip, you two now in close distance.

You were getting deja vu, the boy staring at your face, perfecting every angle he could before closing his eyes and exhaling a breath he had been holding in.

"You really shouldn't had told me that." He whispered, and you bit your bottom lip, nervously nibbling on it.

Peter reopens his eyes, greeting you with the honey colour you were familiar with, his pupils getting smaller as it adjusted to the light, you felt bad for the sad expression that was held on his face.

He slowly brings a hand up to your face, wiping a tear that had unknowingly fallen down your face before pushing some of your hair behind your right ear.

It's been a long time since he's showed you this kind of affirmation, the last time he ever did something remotely similar was the time he had broken up with you. You had no clue what he was thinking, was he going to kiss you, or scold at you for expressing your love for him when he clearly loved another? The possibilities were endless like the ocean, and so you wished he'd only say his motive so your anxiety wasn't so obvious.

Peter's eyes dip to your lips before glancing back to your eyes, him silently asking for permission. You give the boy a nod as your answer, mirroring his actions when he closes his eyes and leans in.

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker angst

[erikahenningsen]

since i love your interpretation of cady and regina and them together; what do you think they like (most) about each other, other than finding each other hot?

What else is there

What Regina likes about Cady:

Cady can cool Regina down. I wouldn't necessarily say Cady is great dealing with conflict but she's a lot better at keeping a level head than Regina and is 97% of the reason why Regina has never been arrested. Cady is like maybe we shouldn't ram into that driver that flipped you off and Regina is like you know what you're probably right.

Cady always tries to see the best in Regina. Her first thought is never that Regina was intentionally trying to hurt her—and Regina wouldn't do that—even though that's something that Regina is still working on with her therapist herself.

This might fall into the category of being hot but Cady being confident/authoritative in any way really gets to Regina like she is in the audience at Cady's math competitions SWEATING (in the context of GSU TA Cady really gets Regina going)

Cady is so thoughtful and she actually pays attention to what Regina says and her likes/dislikes. She's the queen of "thinking of you :)" texts and getting little gifts just because, like a book Regina had mentioned wanting to read or her favorite tea when she's running low.

Cady is very tactile and loves physical affection which is something that Regina never considered herself to enjoy or need all that much but she really loves it when Cady holds her hand while she's driving or strokes her hair when they're watching a movie (and if they're been drinking there have been a couple incidents where their friends have had to evacuate a room because they've gotten a little carried away with the PDA)

What Cady likes about Regina:

Opinionated. Sometimes it's annoying but Regina can always be counted on to have an answer to the question "where do you want to eat?" (Cady is paralyzed by indecision and a deep-seated and implicit need to please.) Cady could listed to Regina rant about any given topic for hours even if she has no idea what she's talking about.

Regina will defend Cady to the death. Cady is always confident that Regina unequivocally has her back, even if the way she does it could be construed as illegal. Regina: let's do it baby I know the law

Regina never makes Cady feel stupid for not knowing something or missing something.

This isn't healthy and sometimes borders on toxic and sometimes literally makes them break up but Regina gets jealous so easily and it makes Cady feel wanted and hot and honestly it's like crack to her

Regina loves to take care of Cady. Sometimes it can be a little contentious where Cady feels guilty accepting expensive/extravagant gifts from Regina but she later understands that it genuinely makes Regina happy for Cady to accept them. She also always offers to do little things for Cady, like driving her places or letting her borrow clothes/makeup.

#cadina #regina george #cady heron #ask #anonymous #biggest draw is that they are equally obsessed with each other/insane and nobody else could tolerate it so legally they have to be together #for like. safety

[yesimwriting]

Final Girl

A/N I start my second year of college tomorrow and i wanted to write something for the movie series that got me through moving out on my own for the first time!!

Fandom: (original) Scream

Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at  Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s. 

Final Girl Masterlist  (updated chapters 1-10 and extras, asks/extras involving the final girl fic verse are under the tag ‘final girl fic’)

----

Like usual, the bell that signifies the end of homeroom rings while I’m in the middle of a sentence. Mrs. Ramirez may be strict about tardies, but she always wraps up her announcements early, which means most of homeroom is filled by basic high school chatter. 

On the first day, that made me incredibly nervous. I didn’t think I’d have to start over at a new school almost two months into my junior year of high school, but now that I’ve been in Woodsboro nearly a month, the space in between instructions doesn’t bother me. The people here have been a lot more welcoming than I thought they’d be. And one of those surprisingly welcoming people is Casey, who’s patiently standing by her desk as I pick up my backpack. 

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” The question surprises me a little more than it should. I’ve been invited to a lot of things since I first moved here, and even when nothing’s going on I normally run into one or two of my friends on the weekends. Usually Stu and or Billy. 

I swing my backpack over my shoulder, “Uh--besides studying for that unit test in math, nothing much.” 

She smiles, “Okay, good.” Casey walks out of the door and into the hall with me. “I was going to rent a movie to watch with my boyfriend, but I’m thinking of blowing him off. You want to have a sleepover at my house? We can watch something scary and freak ourselves out and get no sleep.” 

I grin. “Sure, sounds fun. I’ll bring the Jiffy Pop.” 

“Great, I’ll write my address out for you tomorrow.” She turns her head slightly, taking note of the students crowding the hall, “I’ve gotta get to class. See ya.” 

“See ya.” 

A second after I’ve waved her off, a voice comes from right behind me, “New friend?” 

The words are so unexpected and strangely harsh in their lowness that I nearly jump out of my skin. I turn, posture straightening instinctively as I do so. Oh. Okay--not a threat at all. “Oh, it’s just you,” I exhale, “You scared me, Stu.” 

I offer him a partial smile in greeting, which is a gesture he normally returns with a genuine grin. Today, though, he just kind of looks at me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen his eyes look so dark, especially not while he’s looking at me. “Sorry.” He watches me blink at him. “I was just waiting to walk you to your first period like a good friend, but you seemed busy.” 

Oh, is that what his weird attitude’s about? “You mean Casey?” He doesn’t say anything. “She’s nice.” I don’t know why I feel the need to defend myself or maybe even apologize, but I do. I don’t want him looking at me like that anymore. I want Stu to throw his arm around my shoulders with no warning after making an inappropriate joke that I pretend to get mad over. “We talk in homeroom, she’s a friend.” He doesn’t ease. “Are you jealous?” The joke doesn’t land. “Ease up, you know you’re my favorite.” 

At that, Stu’s oddly serious expression shifts into something softer, maybe even a little amused. “Your favorite?” 

He finally smiles, making the inky undertones of his expression disappear. “Mhm,” I continue, “My favorite out of everyone, but don’t tell Tatum or Sid because I don’t want to hurt their feelings.” 

“Fine,” Stu relents, casually throwing an arm around my shoulders, “I’ll just tell Billy.” 

I gape at him for a long second. After almost two weeks of eating lunch with their friend group every day, Billy offered me his drink after someone bumped into me and spilled mine. I had been sitting next to Stu, who had made some joke earlier that involved grabbing my hand and he had yet to let go. I released him to cross the table and thank Billy. Stu frowned and pretended to be seriously hurt until Tatum told him to leave me alone before he scared her new friend off. Since then, the two have a running joke (well, it’s Stu’s joke that Billy kind of just sort of allows) that revolves around me picking a favorite. 

“You’re in a drama starting mood today.” 

Stu hums once absentmindedly, rubbing his hand up and down my arm in a comfortable display of affection. ”What can I say? I want you all to myself.” 

Heat rises to my face for no good reason. Stu’s touchy, I learned that about him pretty quickly. “Haha,” I mumble dryly, hoping humor manages to come across in my voice. “We should get to class before you erupt into a jealous rage.” 

----

Temporarily discarding the cardboard lid of the Jiffy Pop container, I let my gaze linger on the few polaroids Casey took a little earlier in the night. Just a thing I’m trying out, she had explained before snapping a few awkward shots of me smiling before joining me behind the camera. The one where she’s cross eyed and I’m sticking my tongue out is kind of cute, but most of the ones of me are a little rough. 

Casey announces her return to the kitchen with, “Okay, I wasn’t sure what kind of movies you liked so I brought some variety.” She sets her stack of tapes on the counter next to me. “I was thinking Nightmare on Elm Street or Pet Sementary.” 

Leaning down, I turn on the stovetop before placing the pan on a burner. “Mmm, both are good but I’m more of a Nightmare on Elm Street kinda person. Can’t resist a story with a final girl in it.”  

“Alright,” she says just as the first kernel pops, “I’ll keep that in mind for future movie nights.” 

I turn my attention back to the stove in hopes of concealing a smile. Casey caught my attention that first day in homeroom because she’s just so effortlessly cool in a way that normally I find off putting. All morning, I tortured myself over everything that could go wrong. “Yeah, just--” 

A loud pop from the Jiffy Pop pan nearly makes me jump. Casey’s lips turn upwards like she’s going to make a joke about how easily startled I am, but a ringing sound spares me. “Hold on a second.” Casey pushes herself away from the counter she was leaning against. “Landline.” 

She casually picks up the receiver and I give the stove my full attention in an attempt to offer her some sort of privacy. Her words are low and easy to miss as butter begins to sizzle and more kernels start to explode. My gaze shifts and her slightly bothered expression makes me wonder if she’s on the phone with her boyfriend. I’ve never met him, but the few stories she told me earlier make me think I’m not going to like him. 

Casey hangs up with a sigh. “Wrong number.” She straightens, stepping away from the counter before grabbing a tape from her pile. “I’m going to go work on the movie, my mom was just complaining about the VCR. Careful with the popcorn, our stove’s a little iffy.” 

“Please,” I hum, “I know Jiffy Pop, I feel Jiffy Pop, I basically am Jiffy Pop. I’ve never burnt a single kernel.” 

She raises an eyebrow at my only slightly exaggerated claim before turning to leave the room. “You better hope you’re not all talk or you’re never living this down. 

I move the Jiffy Pop around the burner with a level of skill that’s worthy of someone of my expertise. About a minute later, Casey’s home landline starts ringing again. “Casey!”

“On it!”  

The ringing ends with the sound of a quick click. She must be on the living room extension. Her voice keeps getting louder, but I’m not hearing enough to understand who she’s talking to. She does sound like she’s getting a little annoyed, which makes me really think she’s on the phone with her boyfriend. Preconceived notions about people kind of suck, but Steve sounds like a total asshole. 

Casey returns to the kitchen with a playful, albeit softly irritated eye roll. “How do you feel about prank phone calls?” 

My eyes narrow in mock consideration. “Like making them?” 

“Nope,” she replies, popping the ‘P’ sound. “Dealing with them.” 

She waves the phone in front of me like it’s some kind of offer. “That’s kinda an ominous question,” I decide, arm extending to take the phone from her, “I’m in.” Without thinking twice, I raise the phone to my ear. Static hums from the other end of the line. “Hi.” The only response to my greeting is the consistent crack of static. “Are random phone calls your big Saturday night plans?” 

The static is starting to feel a lot eerier than it did before. That, paired with the continual popping of kernels is starting to unsettle me. Snap out of it, it’s just a prank call. I begin to move around the pan again. I can’t afford to burn anything after all that big talk about my Jiffy Pop skills. 

Just as I’m settling the pan at a new angle, the sound of shifting fabric interrupts the steady stream of white noise. “Did your friend scare so easily?” 

I blink. Whoever’s on the other line is probably a total weirdo, but his voice is kinda attractive. “It’s not personal, she’s just busy messing with the VCR.” 

An unsettlingly deep laugh comes from the other line of the phone. Okay--his attractive voice is no longer enough of a redeeming quality for me to not see him as a total creep or perv. Actually, he’s probably both. “What’s your name?” 

The confident authoritativeness of the question rubs me the wrong way. I release the handle of the pan in favor of instinctually placing a hand on my hip. “I don’t share things with strangers.” 

A beat of silence is followed by the rustling of fabric. “But I already know something about you.” 

“Mhm,” I muse dryly, beginning to work on the popcorn again, “And what is it that you know?” 

“Your friend is setting up the VCR, you’re going to watch a movie, aren’t you?” 

I roll my eyes, understanding why Casey was so quick to leave them without hanging up. Weird people like this are normally more persistent when they’re ignored. “Wow, your detective skills have truly shocked and amazed me, Nancy Drew. Congratulations, now if that’s all--”

I’m not sure if its my sarcasm or my attempt at stern dismissal that amuses them, but a deep chuckle comes from the other end of the line. “What movie are you going to watch?” 

“Why? Are you looking for a recommendation?” My reply comes out too fast and too bitter and I regret it instantly. People like this can’t know that they’re getting to you. “Nightmare on Elm Street.” 

Static turns into the sound of more ruffling. “That’s scary.” 

“I think I can handle it,” I breathe. 

“Do you like scary movies?” 

I nod, “Yep, I even have a golden rule for them.” 

“Golden rule?” 

Rolling my eyes, I stare at the pan. The popping is starting to slow down. Soon enough, I’ll have an excuse to hang up and get back to my sleepover. “Yeah, it’s silly, but I think all the great scary movies have a final girl.” 

Another dark laugh. “I agree.” 

“Your approval fuels me,” I mumble. 

The stranger is quick to ask, “Is Nightmare on Elm Street your favorite scary movie?” 

I shake my head, turning the pan so that it’s more on its side than before. “It’s good, but it’s not my all time favorite.” 

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” 

I sigh, a part of me wishing that Casey would come back. “I already told you that I’m not telling you anything.” 

“So I shouldn’t ask for your name again?” 

“You can ask, but you’re not getting an answer.” Rolling my eyes, I move my hand away from the pan and towards the switch that controls the stove. “Why do you want know so bad, anyway?” 

“It’s rude to not ask a pretty girl for her name.”

Wow--what a line. “That line doesn’t work in person and works even less over the phone when I know you can’t see me.” 

Silence stretches between us so long I start to think that he might have gotten up or something. “What makes you so sure I can’t see you?”

 It’s the kind of vague threat that normally I’d laugh off. But something about the stranger’s assured tone cuts right through all of my security. Irrational dread pulses in my stomach. “Yeah, I’m not interested in being in a scary movie. Bye.” 

“Wait--” There’s the slightest hint of panic in their voice. 

“I am so sick of creepy men trying to ruin everything just because they can.” 

“Don’t even think ab--!” = 

“Porn exists for a reason, perv!” And with a single beep, the man’s voice disappears. 

Ugh, men. Even though his threat was the kind of meaningless joke that creepy, horny men tell because they get off on scaring girls, I can’t stop feeling a lot less alone in Casey’s kitchen. 

I let myself shudder as I pace away from the kitchen and towards Casey’s living room.

“Y/n?” Casey’s voice is completely casual as she questions me. That means that weird phone guy didn’t scare her. 

Be more normal. “Hey--I just..” 

She turns her head, blonde bob falling to the side as I trail off. “Did something scare you?” 

There are a lot of things I could say, but nothing feels good enough. Denial crawls up my throat and just sits there as my thoughts beg me to tell her. To maybe even warn her. Warn her of what, though? That some weird guy has her phone number and the junior girl she took a chance on is this easily freaked? 

Before I can make up my mind, the living room phone rings. Dread roots itself in my stomach and tangles itself in my throat. Casey sits up a bit more on her couch as she reaches for the phone. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

Casey raises an eyebrow as she picks up the receiver. “Forget that guy, he’s probably already forgotten us and is harassing someone else. She then raises the phone to her ear and listens for a long second, “Is this some kind of joke, because it’s not funny.”

I stare at her with wide eyes as she stands, quickly pacing away from the couch and towards the center of the living room, as far from any window as possible. The noise from the phone is muffled, but something about the tone feels a lot more aggressive than it was earlier. Maybe aggressively calling him a pervert and hanging up on him wasn’t the smartest thing I could have done. 

Casey’s face is void of any color as she slowly pulls the phone away from her ear. “He wants to talk to you.” 

My eyes widen as I play back the last words I said to him. An instinctual no crawls up my throat. With shaky hands, I take the phone. “Hi,” I curse myself for sounding so nervous, “Again. Hi again.” A nervous giggle crawls up my throat and I have to my tongue to keep it down. “Listen, you win. You scared us. Now I’m going to hang up and you’re gonna let me.” 

“Really?” The laugh, or maybe even growl, that follows comes out in the form of low grumble that turns my blood into slush. “And if I don’t?” 

Great. Of course phone freak is trying to verify my threat. I don’t exactly have an arsenal of intimidation tactics. “My mom’s dating a cop, and I’ll get him to arrest your ass.”

It’s not the most honest thing I’ve said to him, but it’s not a lie either. My mom’s boyfriend being hired as Woodsboro’s police chief is one of the main reasons we moved, but I’m not sure he’d particularly care about someone scaring me over the phone. I’ve known Wells for a few months now and the only thing I’ve seen him express interest in is my mom and beer. And occasionally, he shows a little too much interest in the length of my skirt. 

Silence. Okay--maybe he took that seriously. My finger moves towards the button that can end this call, but before I can convince myself that nothing bad will happen if I press it, the voice returns with a vengeful chuckle. “What’s Chief Wells Hoffman going to do for you?” 

I feel each drop of blood drain from me. My hands shake as my grip on the phone tightens. With a wavering voice I ask, “How did--how--” 

In an act of a sadistic sort of mercy, the man cuts me off, “Oh, doll face,” he breathes the nickname like he’s taking pity on me. Like I’m a child that needs to be comforted. “I’m going to play nice with you.” He’s waits a beat, “But your good friend Casey Becker’s not going to be so lucky.” 

At the threat of someone that’s standing right next to me, something in me becomes strangled. “How do you know her name?” I shake my head, forcing down the wave of dread trying to force me into panic. “Leave her alone, or-or you’re gonna regret it.” 

“You look too sweet in those cherry pajamas to be making threats.” 

My lips part but I can’t bring myself to ask the question because I already feel the answer in my chest. “How do you know what I’m wearing?” 

“Why don’t you look behind you?”

I pull the phone away from my ear slowly, my eyes snapping upwards in search of Casey’s. But she’s not looking at me. She’s staring at something that’s just over my shoulder, her hand covering her mouth in horror. I pull the phone away from my ear. 

My body does not feel like my own as I force myself to turn towards Casey’s sliding glass door. Despite the glare of the living room light against the reflection of glass, it only takes my eyes a second to adjust enough to see that Casey’s backyard is not empty. 

A figure that’s clothed in all black except for their contrasting, stark white mask that depicts a face frozen in a permanent, cartoonish scream is standing there. Now that he has my attention, he raises his hand, miming the action of answering a phone.

I take a deep breath in an attempt to settle myself, but all it does is make it harder to not scream or cry or laugh hysterically. I raise the phone to my ear again. “Hello, Y/n.” 

“Hi,” I squeak back before pressing the phone into the side of my thigh in a pathetic attempt to muffle my words. “Casey,” I whisper, raising my hand in greeting in an attempt to appease the figure on the other side of the glass, “R--” 

Before the single syllable can slip past my lips, the glass bursts. I turn in on myself, lifting an arm in a feeble attempt to protect myself from the explosion of glass shards. It only takes me a moment to look up in horror at the masked man that’s now in the house. If throwing his entire weight against gas sliding glass door with enough force to shatter it hurt him, he shows no sign of his pain as he begins to run. 

An instinctual scream escapes me as I blindly hurl the phone in the man’s general direction. I grasp Casey’s hand pulling her forward with all my strength as I start running. I urge her forward, ignoring the pain in my forearm and feet from the glass. We’re about to make it to the front door when I feel a firm grasp on my arm. 

I yelp, thrashing blindly as I’m yanked away from Casey. My body twists, but the leather clad hand holding me is unrelenting. There’s a strange strain in the way they pull me back, but I don’t care about his promise to play nice. In a move that likely surprises both of us, I kick behind me with all of my force. Their hold loosens for a fraction of a second, but they regain control before I can even take a full step forward. The man pulls on me harder than before, throwing me back and into the Becker’s entryway table. A scream that I only vaguely register as not mine is so terrible and high pitched my lip quivers at the sound of it. The vase on the table gets knocked over and shatters as I fall. 

My head slams into the wall with enough force to leave me disorientated for a second. Our attacker must not be completely aware of his own strength because for a brief moment, they just look at me as my body lays against shards of glass. With a shaky breath, I push myself to stand even though the movement forces large pieces of glass to cut into my palm. The man recovers before I’m fully up. He grabs me by my shoulder and forces me down on the other side of the hall. I push against him with the support of all the adrenaline in my body as he moves to pin my wrists above my head. The man reaches for something hidden among layers of black. All I can hope for is that my death might have given Casey a chance to escape. 

Instead of pulling out a gun or a blade, he reveals a small, white towel. The confusion makes my stomach twist in a different way as I fight against him even more now. He places the rag over my nose and mouth, forcing me to breath through it. Is this a form of suffocation? I blink twice, my limbs growing impossibly heavy the more I try to breathe. Eventually, that’s all there is. Just the weight of my body and the polluted air in my lungs until even that is replaced by darkness. 

----

NARRATOR’S POV

The one thing about meticulously planning is that it takes so little for plans to go off the rail. One can prepare for every possible outcome and life can still throw twists at them because the rest of the world can never seem to listen to the fucking plan. 

That’s how Billy felt when he saw you standing in Casey Becker’s kitchen, casually prepping Jiffy Pop like you’ve been best friends with her your entire life. Not only did a dangerous sort of aggravation pulse through him at the realization that his perfect plan needed to be adjusted, he also found himself dealing with the kind of anger that’s a result of betrayal. All the time Stu and him spend with you and you couldn’t tell them that you were planning on spending the night at Casey Becker’s? 

When you mumbled some vague excuse about why you couldn’t hang out with Tatum and Sidney Saturday evening during yesterday’s lunch period, Billy felt skeptical. He thought that that’d be something to figure out later. And then he saw you there, grinning and having the time of your life without a single thought about them.

For the briefest moment, Billy wondered if this was some kind of sign. Maybe the universe was trying to tell him to screw it, to let you get what you deserve for keeping secrets. But then he realized that if anything, this signified that he was right about you. After all, what were the odds that you’d be in the perfect place to make your debut as the one thing their movie was missing--a final girl? It only took a few minutes of watching you for Billy to be glad that he thought to bring some chloroform in case anything got complicated. 

The new and improved plan went off without a hitch. Steve was an easy kill and Casey’s death was even more satisfying than he thought possible. Nothing bad happened, so why the hell is Stu taking so long? 

Approaching the house’s entryway, Billy sighs when he sees that Stu isn’t wearing his mask. “What is taking so--” He cuts himself off as something he doesn’t quite get settles in his chest. There’s a hole about the size of his fist in the wall, blue and white ceramic fragments scattered around a small, knocked over table, and most unsettling of all, your unconscious, still bleeding form lying parallel to it all.

“I didn’t mean to,” Stu says, voice uncharacteristically shaky, “I--I--fuck, I didn’t mean to. I was just gonna put her to sleep, but she kept trying to get away--and the chase was exciting,” he scoffs the last word pathetically. “I didn’t think she’d fight back.” 

Billy lets out a breath, crouching down to get a better look at your face. There’s a shallow gash on your forehead that’s still dripping blood into a puddle that your cheek is resting in. If it wasn’t for that, Billy might have been able to imagine that you were sleeping. “What the fuck did you do?” 

When Billy’s hard gaze meets Stu’s, Stu blurts out the only thing he can think to say, “She’s still breathing! She’s not--she’s not dead.” He stares at your crumpled form, desperately studying the slow but even rise and fall of your chest. “I didn’t mean to.” 

Billy’s fingers brush against the side of your face. “I know.” Stu doesn’t ask him to specify which part of his defense he’s referencing. “She’ll be okay, someone will find this, they’ll take her to the hospital. She’s not that hurt.” 

“She fell into the glass,” Stu admits, “And--and her head hit the wall so hard. What if she has a concussion? Shit, aren’t you supposed to stay awake if you have a concussion?” He lets out an uneasy sigh that doesn’t seem to fit him. It’s the kind of breathy, uneasy sound that’s the precursor for a tantrum a child throws after realizing that they just broke their favorite toy. “What if she has some kinda brain damage? She has--she has the SAT next week and she’s been studying for it since before she moved here.” After a moment, Stu snorts, but the sound comes out more desperate than humorous. “She’s gonna be so mad.” 

The corner of Billy’s lips turn upwards. “For like a week, and then she’ll be trying to spin this into some kind of college essay.” 

Another uneven laugh escapes Stu. “You’re right.” He then looks down, something weirdly close to what some might call guilt cramming itself into his head with too much force. It’s all too much. All he wants is for you to open your eyes and smile at him. “Fuck, we need to call an ambulance.” 

“You know we can’t.” 

“She could be bleeding in her skull. Isn’t that a thing?”

Billy bites his tongue. So many versions of a reply are circling in his mind and not a single one of them feels right. He should tell his best friend, his partner in everything, that that’s just something he’s going to have to life with. Billy should tell Stu that what happens to you is on him. Instead, Billy just looks at you, at the cuts in your soft skin. Some dominant part of him is thrilled at your vulnerable state. All bloody and broken and still somehow so soft and warm. He could have you now, he thinks, and he wouldn’t have to pretend the way he does when you’re awake. But something else in him, maybe the part of him that knows the way he’s supposed to act, knows that to leave you like this, to waste any more time, could lead to something permanent.  

The updated plan is already in motion. After this, there’s no way you won’t need them. He likes the thought of you needing him more than anything else, and he knows that it’d be so easy to push you into a state of dependency. You’re going to be so scared that any reservations you feel towards them because they’re dating your friends will disappear. And how could Sidney and Tatum have a problem with Stu and him being supportive after everything you’ve been through? 

Besides, a part of him wants to see how your role plays out. After all, you said it yourself. All the great scary movies have a final girl. 

He cups your face, studying each of your features as if to commit them to memory. “We’ll call 911 from the house phone and not say anything. They’ll have to send someone over, but we need to get out of here quick.”

#scream #scream x reader #scream 1996 #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #poly! ghostface x reader #final girl fic