#one idea i liked is when you're trying to talk them out of it and they eventually ask “this is MY choice! why do you care if i get hurt?!”

[joelmillerisapunk]

How quickly can you take your clothes off, pop quiz

Joel Miller x reader

Masterlist

Wordcount

Summary: The enemies to lovers/one bed/forced close proximity/light grumpy x sunshine/patrol partner fic no one asked for.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, grumpy joel, reader is called "the new kid", reader has breasts but no physical description. It's more tension filled fluffy bickering than smut, but I couldn't help adding a little drop of it in.

Notes: I've been so sick this weekend and was strictly supposed to read fic, but this idea came to me anyway, so I queued it up. I hope you like them as much as I loved writing this. Ty @saradika-graphics , what would we all do without you?

Evening, Day 1

As you fasten the straps of your worn-out boots, the reality of your first patrol with Joel Miller, the cornerstone of Jackson's defence, settles in. You've heard stories about his exploits, and you're determined to prove your worth, that you're more than just another mouth to feed.

The morning air is crisp as you meet Joel by the gate. He grunts a greeting, his eyes scanning the perimeter with practiced vigilance. You fall into step beside him, the weight of your rifle a comfort against your shoulder.

"So, where are we headed?" you ask, trying to break the ice.

Joel's response is terse as he nods in front of himself. "Out there."

You nod, swallowing your disappointment and try again. "So, Joel, I've been studying the maps, and I think if we—"

"Save your breath. We'll check the traps, clear any infected, and get back before dark. That's the plan."

You nod, a little deflated but still hopeful. "Got it.” You press your lips together, taking his words to heart. 

The rest of the patrol is silent, save for the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional direction from Joel. You're vigilant, alert, and when you spot a tripwire, you quickly signal to him, earning a curt nod of approval. But upon returning to Jackson, you go to sign out in the patrol book, and your brows furrow at the entry Joel has already made. 

Patrol Log - Jackson Settlement

Date: Indeterminate, Outbreak

Pair: Joel Miller/The New Kid

Entry Signout: All clear minus the constant chatterbox that seems to think their voice is a homing beacon for every clicker in a ten-mile radius. - J

You didn't even talk that much. You roll your eyes and close the book a little too hard.

Evening, Day 2

You meet Joel at the gate once more, you notice a flicker of surprise in his eyes when you simply nod in greeting, foregoing the usual stream of words. He grunts in response. You're determined to show him you're not just the “constant chatterbox" he'd written about. You've spent the day replaying his words in your head, using them as fuel to prove your mettle.

—

"Up ahead, there's a blind spot by that old truck. Cover me while I check it out." 

You nod, taking up position without hesitation. 

As he disappears behind the rusted vehicle, your heart pounds in your chest. Every sound is amplified in the stillness of the evening—the distant hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves in the wind, and then a low growl that sends a chill down your spine. An infected emerges from the underbrush, its eyes locked onto Joel's last known location. Without missing a beat, you take aim and fire—a clean shot that drops it instantly. 

Joel reappears just as quickly as he vanished, his expression one of mild surprise at your swift action. "Nice shot," he grunts begrudgingly before moving on as if nothing happened.  A small victory for you; perhaps he's not entirely immune to your efforts after all. 

The adrenaline from the encounter with the infected is still coursing through your veins as you and Joel continue your patrol. His rare compliment echoes in your mind, fueling your determination to prove yourself further. 

As you make your way back to Jackson, you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. You've not only held your own but also protected Joel's back when it counted. 

Back at the settlement, you hurry to the patrol book before Joel can beat you to it.

Patrol with Grumpy McGrumpface complete. All infected cleared. Check back in a few days. And for the record, this chatterbox saved our asses tonight. Maybe next time, you'll  remember to check your blind spots—and your attitude.

You add a little smiley face next to your entry, a playful jab at his perpetual grumpiness.

As you walk away from the book, you glance back to see Joel reading your entry, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It's a small crack in his tough exterior, and it gives you hope that there's more to Joel Miller than he lets on.

Evening, Day 3

The air is tense as you approach the gate, the familiar silhouette of Joel Miller waiting for you. There's a certain expectation hanging between you two, a silent challenge that has been building since your last patrol. You greet him with a nod, the same flicker of surprise in his eyes, quickly replaced by his usual stoic expression.

As you set out, the landscape feels different, almost as if it's holding its breath. You're more attuned to the subtle shifts in the wind, the way the light filters through the trees, and the distant sounds that could signal danger. You move with a newfound confidence, your steps sure and quiet, your senses heightened.

We're going to sweep the old high school today," Joel says, breaking the silence. It's the most he's volunteered about the day's plan, and you take it as a sign of trust, however small.

You acknowledge his words with a simple, "Understood," and follow him towards the dilapidated building that looms in the distance. The structure has seen better days, its windows shattered, the playground overtaken by nature, a haunting reminder of a world that once was.

As you approach, you signal for Joel to hold position while you scout ahead. You move with caution, your eyes scanning for any signs of movement. The silence is broken only by the creaking of a swing, swaying gently in the breeze.

You clear the perimeter, finding no immediate threats, and signal Joel to advance. Together, you methodically clear the classrooms, the gymnasium, and the cafeteria. 

As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the desolate high school, you and Joel finish securing the premises. The tension between you has simmered down to a low hum. It's eerie how the remnants of childhood laughter still linger among the abandoned desks and faded educational posters. You can't help but wonder what became of the students and teachers who once filled these halls with life.

"All clear," you report, as you finish sweeping the last room, your voice echoing through the empty halls.

Joel grunts in agreement, his eyes lingering on the swing set outside, its melancholic creaking a stark contrast to the silence that now fills the school. "Let's head back. It's getting dark."

You nod, but as you turn to leave, a sudden storm rolls in, the sky turning an ominous shade of grey. The wind howls through the broken windows, whipping up leaves and debris in a frenzied dance. Within moments, the heavens open up, unleashing a torrential downpour that shows no signs of letting up.

"Damn it," Joel mutters under his breath, his gaze fixed on the rapidly deteriorating weather outside. "We ain't makin it back to Jackson in this."

Your heart sinks at his words. The high school isn't equipped for an overnight stay—at least not comfortably—and sharing close quarters with Joel Miller is an entirely different kind of danger than what you've faced so far today. But there's no other choice; safety comes first. You follow him to the least damaged classroom and start gathering materials to make it through the night: some old mats from the gym for bedding; whatever dry wood helps you start a small fire, and some canned food from what remains of the cafeteria's supplies. 

As night falls and darkness envelops your makeshift shelter, you can feel Joel's unease mirroring your own—two predators forced into an uneasy truce by circumstance. You both know that despite your differences and his gruff exterior, survival often requires uncomfortable compromises... like sharing body heat when temperatures plummet during stormy nights like these... like sharing a “bed” when there's only one dry spot left in an abandoned high school turned refuge from infected monsters lurking outside.

—

The storm outside rages on, its fury unabated, as the match from your hand hisses out against the wet concrete floor. The darkness inside seems to thicken and you can feel the cold creeping in, the dampness seeping through the layers of your clothing, chilling you to the bone.

Joel's silhouette is barely visible across the room, his frustration palpable in the heavy silence that follows the failed attempt to reignite the fire. The tension that had momentarily subsided now returns with a vengeance, amplified by the primal need for warmth and the instinctual fear of the unknown dangers lurking in the darkness.

Joel rummages through his bag, the sound of items being shuffled around punctuating the silence. He pulls out a small waterproof match case, flipping it open to reveal just three matches left inside. His fingers, roughened by years of survival and hardship, gingerly pick up the first match. The strike against the side of the box is sharp and swift, but the wind howling through the broken windows extinguishes it before it can catch. A second attempt meets with the same fate, and Joel's jaw clenches in frustration. "Damn it," he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible over the storm. He looks at the final match with a mix of resignation and determination. "You know, if you were more careful, we'd have more to work with," Joel grumbles.

"Oh, so now you're worried about being more careful?" you retort, unable to keep the sarcasm out of your voice. "A little too late for that now ain't it Miller?” 

Joel glares at you, his eyes narrowing in the dim light. "I've been careful," he growls. He strikes the last match, shielding it from the wind with his hand. But again it fails, leaving you with no heat. 

You can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at seeing Joel struggle. "Yeah, well, maybe you should've thought about that before we ended up in this situation," you say.

Joel shakes his head. "You think this is fun for me?" he asks. "Stuck in this godforsaken place with someone who can't stop talkin?”

You glare at Joel, his silhouette a dark shadow in the dim light. "You think I wanted this?" you snap back, frustration seeping into your words. "I'm here because I have to be, just like you."

Joel grunts in response, his gaze fixed on the remnants of the failed fire. "We don't have time for this," he says gruffly, standing up and brushing off his pants. "We need to conserve body heat."

Reluctantly, you both make your way to the makeshift bed, nothing more than a pile of old gym mats and whatever dry fabric you could scavenge and a small emergency blanket meant for one person. The thought of sharing such close quarters with Joel is unsettling, but survival trumps discomfort every time.

You lie down first, turning your back to him as he settles in behind you. The awkwardness of the situation is not lost on either of you. You can feel the heat radiating off his body despite the layers between you. As minutes pass in silence, save for the howling wind and rain lashing out, Joel shifts slightly behind you. His arm drapes over your side as he tries to find a comfortable position—and then his hand accidentally brushes against your breast. You stiffen instantly; it's an intimate contact that neither of you expected nor wanted under these circumstances. 

"Whoa! Watch it!" you exclaim indignantly, trying to wriggle away from his touch while still maintaining contact for warmth's sake—a delicate balance indeed under these cramped conditions.

Joel recoils as if he's been stung by a wasp. The tension in the room spikes, and for a moment, neither of you moves. Joel's breath hitches, and you can feel his body tense up behind you. The accidental touch has set off a chain reaction of awkwardness, and you're both acutely aware of the other's presence. "Sorry," Joel mumbles, his voice rough with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to..." His sentence trails off, lost in the sound of the rain pounding against the roof.

You nod, acknowledging his apology, but the damage is done. The line between survival and intimacy has been blurred, and the close proximity is playing tricks on your mind. You can't ignore the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, or the fact that you're both very much alone in this abandoned high school.

Minutes tick by, and despite your best efforts to keep a respectful distance, the reality of your situation becomes increasingly apparent. The cold is seeping in, and the need for warmth can't be denied. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, you find yourself leaning back into Joel, seeking the heat that his body is so eager to provide. He stiffens at the contact, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he cautiously wraps his arm back around you, pulling you closer. 

It's been a long time since either of you has felt the touch of another person, the comfort of human contact that goes beyond mere companionship.

Joel's breath is warm against your neck, and you can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you. It's a startling realization, but it's met with an unexpected surge of desire that you can't quite suppress. The knowledge that he's affected by your closeness is thrilling, and you can't help but wonder if he can sense the effect he's having on you as well.

The line between necessity and want is blurred, and in the end, it's the human need for connection that wins out. With the storm as your only witness, you turn to face Joel, your eyes meeting in the dim light. There's a silent question hanging between you, one that's answered with a soft, almost hesitant kiss. The kiss is an exploration, a rediscovery of a basic human need that has been long neglected. It's a slow burn, fueled by days of tension and the shared experiences that have brought you closer than either of you could have anticipated. Joel's hands find their way to your face, cradling it gently as he deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing the contours of your lips before slipping inside to meet yours in a dance that is both familiar and new.

The cold is forgotten as warmth spreads through your body, ignited by the friction between you. You find yourself pressing against him, seeking more contact, more heat. Your hands roam over his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and a soft moan escapes your lips as Joel's fingers deftly undo the buttons of your shirt, revealing skin that is hungry for his touch.

There's an urgency building between you now—a primal need that cannot be ignored or denied any longer. Clothes are shed hastily; each piece removed reveals another patch of warm skin eager for exploration and connection

As the last of your clothes fall away, the cool air of the high school classroom is a stark contrast to the heat that radiates between you and Joel. His hands trace a path down your sides, exploring the curves of your body. The rough pads of his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake, and you can't help but arch into his touch, seeking more.

Joel's gaze meets yours, and there's a vulnerability in his eyes that you've never seen before. It's as if the walls he's built around himself are crumbling down, brick by brick, revealing the man beneath the hardened survivor. You reach up to cup his face, feeling the stubble scratch against your palms, grounding you in this moment—a moment that feels both surreal and more real than anything you've experienced in a long time.

With a tenderness that surprises you both, Joel lowers his lips to yours once more, kissing you deeply as he positions himself between your legs. The anticipation is palpable; every nerve in your body is attuned to his presence. As he enters you, there's a brief moment of discomfort followed by an overwhelming sense of fullness—a completion that transcends physicality. You move together in rhythm; each thrust is punctuated by gasps and moans that echo off the walls of the abandoned classroom. The world outside has ceased to exist; all that matters is this connection—this desperate need for closeness in a world gone mad.

Joel's pace quickens; his breath comes in ragged gasps against your neck as he drives into you with an urgency born of months—if not years—of pent-up desire and longing. You meet him thrust for thrust, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back as waves of pleasure crash over you both.

The tension builds within you like a storm gathering strength—a tempest that threatens to sweep away everything in its path until there's nothing left but raw sensation and pure ecstasy coursing through every fiber of your being until finally - release washes over you both in a rush of heat and sensation that leaves you gasping for air. The world around you fades away, replaced by the pulsating rhythm of your shared climax. It's a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

As the aftershocks subside, you find yourselves entwined in each other's arms, your head resting on his chest and the steady beat of Joel's heart is a comforting sound against the backdrop of the relentless storm outside. The cold is kept at bay by the warmth generated by your bodies, and for the first time since this ordeal began, you feel truly at peace. 

Eventually Joel's breath evens out as he falls into a deep sleep, his body relaxed and sated in a way you've never seen before. You take a moment to study his face—the lines etched by years of hardship softened in slumber, revealing a hint of the man he might have been under different circumstances. With gentle care, you extricate yourself from his embrace and pull on your clothes, intending to keep watch over the sleeping giant beside you.

The hours pass slowly; dawn is still a distant promise when you hear it—the unmistakable sound of movement outside your refuge. Your senses immediately go on high alert; adrenaline courses through your veins as you cautiously approach one of the broken windows, rifle at the ready. The storm has lessened but not enough to obscure the shapes moving in the pre-dawn gloom. Infected? Or something worse?

You glance back at Joel, still lost in sleep, and make a split-second decision. You won't let whatever danger lurks outside reach him while he's vulnerable. Steeling yourself, you slip out into the storm-ravaged landscape. The rain pelts against your skin, a relentless barrage that does little to dampen your resolve. You move with purpose, your eyes scanning the darkness for any signs of movement.

The high school grounds are eerily quiet, save for the occasional clap of thunder echoing in the distance. You keep low, using the remnants of the playground equipment as cover as you make your way towards the source of the disturbance. The last thing you want is to lead any potential threats back to Joel.

As you approach the perimeter of the school, you catch sight of a small group of infected, their grotesque forms illuminated by the occasional flash of lightning. They seem disoriented, their movements erratic as they struggle against the wind and rain. It's clear they're not here for you; they're simply passing through, driven by some primal instinct to seek shelter from the storm.

You take a deep breath, steadying your aim as you prepare to engage. The first shot rings out, echoing through the deserted schoolyard. One of the infected drops to the ground, its body convulsing before falling still. The others turn towards the sound, their milky eyes searching for the source of the threat.

You fire again, and then again, each shot carefully placed to conserve ammunition. The infected fall one by one, their bodies piling up in the mud as you advance, keeping the upper hand through sheer determination and skill. But as the last one drops, you hear a new sound—a low growl that sends a chill down your spine.

You turn just in time to see another infected emerging from the shadows, its jaws snapping hungrily as it charges towards you. You raise your rifle, but the mud beneath your feet gives way, sending you sprawling to the ground. The infected is on you in an instant, its weight pinning you down as it tries to bite through your rain-soaked jacket.

With a surge of adrenaline, you manage to free one arm and reach for the knife strapped to your belt. You drive the blade upwards, aiming for the infected's exposed throat. The creature gurgles in pain, its grip loosening just enough for you to wriggle free and deliver the killing blow.

Panting heavily, you push the infected's lifeless body off of you and take a moment to assess the situation. The immediate threat has been neutralized, but you're acutely aware that more could be drawn by the sound of the struggle. With no time to lose, you make your way back to the school, your heart pounding in your chest.

You slip back inside and secure the door as best you can. You turn around and see Joel is already awake, his eyes scanning the room as he reaches for his weapon. The sight of you, unharmed, brings a look of relief to his face, quickly replaced by a scowl. "Where the hell were you?" he demands, his voice rough with sleep and worry.

"I heard something outside," you explain, keeping your tone even. "I went to check it out."

Joel's expression darkens. "You should've woken me up, you could have gotten killed out there," he grumbles, his concern for your safety masked by his usual gruff demeanor.

"I didn't and you needed the rest," you reply, meeting his gaze. "Besides, I can handle myself.”

Joel's jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think he's going to argue. But then he just nods, acknowledging your capability even as his protective instincts chafe at the thought of you facing danger alone. "Next time, wake me," he repeats, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You can't help but smirk at the gruff concern in Joel's voice. There's a part of you that enjoys getting under his skin, challenging the walls he's built around himself. "You know, Joel," you say, your voice light but your eyes serious, "I think you might actually care about what happens to me."

Joel's scowl deepens, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something that looks a lot like vulnerability. "Don't get the wrong idea," he grumbles, looking away. "I just can't afford to break in a new partner."

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "Sure, Miller. Keep telling yourself that." You walk over to where he's now sitting and nudge him playfully with your foot. "Admit it. You like having me around.”

Joel rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a reluctant smile. "You're alright," he concedes, his voice gruff. "But don't let it go to your head.”

You can't resist the urge to tease Joel a little more. "I think you protest too much, Joel Miller," you say with a playful grin. "I mean, first you can't stop complaining about my chatter, and now you're almost starting to sound... affectionate."

Joel's eyes narrow, but the ghost of a smile still lingers on his lips. "Don't push your luckp," he warns, his voice carrying a note of fondness that he's unable to fully conceal.

You lean in closer, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, for someone who pretends not to care, you sure were... attentive last night," you say with a sly grin, your eyes dancing with mischief.

A flush creeps up Joel's neck, and for a moment, you think you might have pushed him too far. But then he chuckles—a low, rumbling sound that you feel more than hear. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" he says, shaking his head in mock exasperation.

You beam at him, feeling a sense of triumph. "Maybe," you admit, "but you like me anyway.”

—

As the first light breaks through the retreating storm, you and Joel prepare to leave the high school behind. You gather your belongings, exchanging quiet glances with Joel as you both acknowledge the shift in your relationship.

The journey back to Jackson is uneventful, the aftermath of the storm leaving the world outside quiet. You walk side by side, your boots crunching on the wet gravel. Joel seems more at ease, his usual stoic demeanor softened.

Upon your return to the settlement, the familiar sight of the gates brings a sense of relief. The guards nod in recognition as you pass.

You make your way to the patrol book, your fingers brushing against the worn pages as you prepare to document the latest entry. Joel watches you, his expression unreadable, as you pick up the pen and begin to write.

Patrol Log - Jackson Settlement

Date: Indeterminate, Post-Outbreak

Pair: Joel Miller/The New Kid

Entry Signout: Patrol complete. High school secured. Infected cleared. Storm provided unexpected overnight stay. No serious injuries to report. 

You pause for a moment, considering your next words carefully. With a small smile, you add a final note

Casualties: Zero. Zilch. Nada. Unless you count the ego of a certain grumpy individual who may or may not have been out-shot by yours truly.

You cap the pen and step back, allowing Joel to read your entry. His eyes scan the page, and you see the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he reads your postscript. He doesn't say anything, but the look he gives you speaks volumes. 

As you turn to leave, Joel's hand catches yours, his grip firm yet gentle. 

Hey," Joel says as he pulls you closer. "I, uh... I don't know how to do this," he admits, his gaze dropping to where your hands are joined.

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze, offering him a small, encouraging smile. "Do what, Joel?" 

He takes a deep breath, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. "This," he repeats, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. "The... talking about feelings stuff." 

You can't help but chuckle at his attempt to articulate his feelings, the corners of your mouth curling up into a smile. "Is this the part where you tell me that despite your better judgement, you've grown fond of me?" you tease, squeezing his hand in return.

Joel rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of amusement in his expression. "Somethin like that," he admits gruffly, releasing your hand to run a hand through his disheveled hair. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. And maybe... maybe I don't mind the chatter as much as I let on.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the gruff admission meaning more to you than any grand declaration of love ever could "Well then," you say, stepping closer to him, "I guess this means we're stuck with each other."

Joel's response is a low chuckle. "Yeah," he agrees, his hand finding its way to the small of your back in a gesture that feels both new and familiar all at once. "I suppose it does.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fluff

[thinkingaboutjaedyn]

imagine u n emily cooking together on ig live and everyone loves it when ur telling her off, she’s always getting in the way, or just straight up being a menace LMFAOOKO

FAVORITE ANNOYANCE | e.engstler x reader

prompt: emily being really fucking annoying while y'all are trying to cook.

author notes: i need to write for more basketball players so here you go taytay 🩷 enjoy it!

contains: emily engstler x shorter!reader, fluff, emily needs her ass beat, annoying as a love language, bad pizza making describing, inspo from this tiktok

"heyy guys!" you say, setting up your phone against a vase on the kitchen island. emily have just got back from practice and was obviously starving so she begged you to cook. you obliged but only because she has to help you. what a dumb idea that would end up being.

you squint your eyes as you look at the number of people coming into the live. emily comes up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist. she pecks the side of your face before saying, "hi babe. hi chat."

"ew, don't say chat. you sound like some teenage streamer," you make a face of disgust before laughing. emily just shrugs. turning you to face her instead of the phone.

"but baby, that's what you call it," she blinks at you. acting confused until you stand on your tippy toes to peck her lips. emily pecks you back, licking her lips afterwards before looking at your phone screen. you move away from the kitchen island to go to the fridge. your body barely still in frame. emily looks at the comments coming through on the live, chuckling at a few.

"what we about to do? cook-" before emily could finish her sentence fully, you chim in. coming into the frame fully, holding the tomatoes needed to make the pizza sauce. "we are about to cook because emily was starving so bad and was just so hungry. go ahead, tell them what you told me when you came home," your tone sounds annoyed but there is obvious fondness underneath.

"aye, the chat said stop being mean to me," emily crosses her arms across her chest as she looks at you.

"the chat should be on my side."

"thought chat was for teenage streamers?"

"dear god, be quiet before i don't cook and go to bed. you can do this all on your own if you want."

"what? babeee, noo," the american player moves to pull you close by the waist. leaning down to kiss the top of your head; a usual emily apology. obviously you accept it. a bashful smile on your lips as you try to push her away but those muscles of hers aren't just for show, keeping you close easily.

emily sighs before shaking her head, "okay, chat. when i came home i begged my beautiful amazing so spectacular girlfriend to cook for me and cried when she said she didn't feel like it. even though i know how to cook, but it's just better when she does it." the confession makes the live explode with comments. with most making fun of emily (lovingly) and some relating to the feeling of wanting your girlfriend to do things for you.

a playfully smug smile sits on your lips, "there. she admitted it guys, she can't live without me."

"i didn't say all that.."

"i will stab you with this knife i'm about to grab," you gesture to the knife block on the counters behind you two. emily immediately starts talking to the chat, "i told y'all she's always threatening me."

"only when you're bad, babes," you chuckle. getting out of her grasp to grab two knives from the knife block. setting one down in front of emily, slapping her hand when she tries to grab it.

"no touching until i get the cutting boards," you set down your knife. opening the counter to grab two cutting boards (all while emily stands there with her arms crossed). putting them onto the island, one in front of emily and one in front of you. then you grab the tomatoes, setting them near your phone. not too close though so you two can still see the comments coming in.

"now you can touch."

emily and you get into a small routine of cutting the tomatoes. answering questions at the same time with the basketball player answering most of them.

"i don't know who keeps asking what we're cooking, but guys c'mon now.. i said it so many times. we're making pizza," emily sighs. halfway through with her tomato pile, she decides it's the best time to bother you while you're focused on finishing yours.

"babe, chat said why is my hair up even though i'm in my own home. should i tell them how you hate my hair and told me you would cut it off if i bought it anywhere near your kitchen?" she smiles at you like she didn't just say the most out of pocket lie ever. you give her a warning glare, not even answering her before going back to cutting. however, of course emily couldn't be satisfied with that. she needs a reaction so she starts to poke you in the shoulder.

"babe"

you don't answer her.

"babe"

another glare.

"babeeee."

"all i know is that if you keep touching me, i'm going to cut off your hand. now stop being childish and finish chopping those tomatoes before nobody will be eating tonight," you finally answer. slapping her hand away. she doesn't even flinch, just smiling.

"my girlfriend is being mean to me again." she turns her attention to the camera, a great relief to you. obviously the chat comes to her defense again but you tell them off by threatening to end the live all together.

the two of you continue to make the pizza. eventually you get out the small roll of cheese out of the fridge, forcing emily to grate it. while you smash the tomatoes up for the sauce.

emily is still answering more comments and she's having fun with it too:

ilovelesbians178 who do you wish would visit you more?

"hailey. that blonde chick never come over here, but it's okay, i know she's all superstar now."

emilysdutchbraids is your natural hair color actually blonde or what

"uh, i always say my hair is naturally blonde with dark roots but i might be lying.. nobody gotta know."

y/n&emilyop why is your tall strong ass the one grating cheese while y/n's tiny self is smashing the tomatoes?

emily starts laughing so hard that you look over at her. she gives you a look back before shaking her head, "yeah, nah, i don't know why i'm the one grating cheese. this is really not a good fit for me, huh?"

you look at her again, your brows furrowed as you stand there confused.

"ems, what are you talking about?" your arms are crossed across your chest. you come closer to her, looking at your phone to check the live comments. emily tries to turn you away from looking at the screen, laughing, "nothing, baby. people just don't get why your tinsy pinsy self is smashing tomatoes while my giant self is grating cheese."

the playful mocking in her tone makes you gasp. quick to slap her shoulder, she lets out an ow!

"babyyy, i didn't do anything," her tone sounds sad but emily is literally smiling at you and is so close to laughing that you can hear in her voice. "i was just reading the comments," is her excuse.

you slap her shoulder again before moving away from her. "yeah, sure. you're so innocent and totally didn't read it out on purpose. shut up and make the dough since you're so big and strong," you get out the ingredients needed or at least try to as emily follows you around the kitchen like a lost puppy. if you're trying to grab the oil out of the cabinet? she's blocking it. you're trying to get the yeast out? again emily is there blocking it. you try to push her away, hitting her on the shoulder again but she always just laughs.

"i get way worse fouls in games than that little hit, baby," she smirks at you. normally that smirk would be so attractive but you are so blinded by irritation but right now you are this close to kicking emily out of the kitchen.

you decide to go a different route than hitting. going straight for her stomach as you tickle her. emily nearly screams in surprise, almost knocking over a bunch of stuff, you two should have been cleaned, off of the counter as she tries to get away from you.

you stick out your tongue at her once she gets away. coming back over to your phone to check the comments.

"emily acts like a bad ass kid. oh, yeah, we all know that," you say. giggling once emily comes back close to you, her arms crossed across her chest.

"and i don't know why she's next to me right now trying to manipulate me into saying a compliment. you can cross your arms until the day you die, miss pretzel," you sass. laughing once she tries to tickle you but you dodge out of the way.

"babe, it's not fair! you got me!"

"you were in the way!"

"nuh uh."

"nuh huh!"

emily lets out a long sigh, frowning at your phone screen. "my girlfriend literally hates me right now guys," she says.

"do not. now be quiet and help me finish making this pizza. it's getting late." emily listens to you, finally taking the cooking seriously.

it takes way quicker now to finish up making the pizza that emily is acting like she got some sense. finally, emily moves away from the island so that she can slide the pizza in the oven while you talk to the live.

"alright guys, we are about to go lay on the couch and wait for this pizza to cook. emily has drained all of the energy out of me so i'm ending the live here. love you guys! thanks for paying attention to emily's annoying ass and me." emily is able to get in a wave before you cut off the live. shaking your head as you turn to face her. leaning against the kitchen island.

"what is it, baby?" she comes close, grabbing onto your hips.

"you're sleeping on the couch tonight," you say. leaning away once she tries to kiss you. easily getting out of her grasp this time, starting to walk over to the living room. emily still stands in the kitchen with her arms now crossed across her chest.

"and you can stop doing that crossing your arms across your chest shit! it doesn't work, baby," you shout, looking over your shoulder at her.

author notes: this was actually mad fun to write 💪🏽💪🏽 hopefully you liked it because i put some effort into it.

© THINKINGABOUTJAEDYN

#emily engstler x reader #emily engstler #wbb x reader

[cryptidcasanova]

Lover Boy

Mob!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: It's the Bridgerton carriage scene, but make it mob!Bucky.

Warnings: Angst, light Smut, Language, Possessive Bucky.

3.5k

The poll results are in, and I couldn't help but think this might be a good way to remedy both sides.

You were mortified.

One hand fisted against quivering lips, and the other gripped at your clutch. As if anything else could go wrong tonight. Shaky steps guided you down the carpeted stairs.

There was another gala, another meeting of the power players in town. And it was another night wasted at the hands of James Barnes.

You hated how much you cared for him. You still cared for him even after all the stunts he pulled to pull you away from the Maximoff heir. Always had.

Ever since you were kids, you remembered having that love-sick look in your eyes. You grew up with inner-circle families and were friends with Rebecca, Sarah, and their brothers. And Bucky? Well, shit, he was always there with his dark hair and curious eyes. It was hard not to fall for him.

Even as you grew up, numbing yourself to the reality of the business and the choices that came with it, you couldn't ignore him forever. You knew that Bucky was raised to be powerful, honorable, and frightening. You knew the stories – of all the beautiful women who couldn't tie him down longer than a night or two. You knew how he flaunted some new girl at every event. It was hard not to overhear them whispering among the men.

'What about her?' and the laugh on his hips saying, 'She's just a family friend. Don't worry about her; I'd never be with her like that.'

You knew he would break your heart, and still. You loved him.

Again, mortified.

He was your first kiss on some lonely night when you couldn't help but ask him. But that had been ages ago. He was grown now, the head of the family and the king of his empire.

But there was something different about tonight, something predestined that started long before you stepped outside your door. It started out as Sam's idea weeks before, in the same bar where you ended up every weekend.

He wanted to try and get you to mingle among the local 'rabble-rousers' as if he pretended not to be one of them. Your laugh at his suggestion pulled Steve and Bucky's attention from across the bar.

"You want me to do what, exactly?" You teased. "Throw myself in the way of wealthy investors and scout out the competition? That's much more up Nat's alley; there's a reason why they call her the Black Widow, you know –"

"No, nothing like that," he shook his head, that charming grin on his lips. Once Sam got an idea, it took a lot of work to dissuade him. "Look, there's more to this life than watching shipments and making small talk with the hens in town." He paused, knowing all the time you spent logging backorders and saving face with the mercs' wives. "I want you to be happy. We all do."

You leaned against the bar, pressing your palms against the hardwood.

"So you think it's time for me to settle down?" You challenged with a smirk. "Get married to some silver-spoon jerk upstate?" Sam's smile turned close-lipped as he noticed the other's approach.

"We could help you find a good one." At least he sounded hopeful.

"In this town?" Steve overheard, tapping his beer on the hardtop. "You're gonna need all the help you can get."

Your sneaking suspicion grew as they hounded like vultures. You looked from Sam to Steve with weary eyes. The only one with less enthusiasm was Bucky. Bucky, who usually was primmed with pressed shirts, was tired. His hair fell into his face, his shirt wrinkled, and his tie long discarded at one of the tables.

"You want to help me find a man?"

Bucky looked to his friends with a hooded expression, letting his hand reach out before him. With the click of his tongue, he softly smirked.

"We'll help you find a man. Have we got a deal, doll?"

It was a business handshake, one full of promise. And as soon as you grasped Bucky's hand, one you'd come to regret.

You didn't expect their advice to work so well…or so quickly.  

At the gala, Bucky strolled over with that sly walk and pressed navy suit, conveniently carrying your favorite drink in hand after Pietro ordered you both dirty martinis. You never cared for the drink, but you weren't about to tell him that. But trouble started when Bucky slid between you with that close-lipped smirk.

"They must have made a mistake at the bar," He explained with a shrug. "I remember you liked these. Here, doll." Bucky said, swapping out the drink in your hand before sliding away. No one could fault you for your eyes lingering on him as he walked back to Sam and Steve.

Later in the night, when you were dancing along and finally falling into a rhythm with Pietro, Bucky interrupted again. It was the turn of the tides, the slow pace of the music building, until it felt like one of the underground clubs.

All the weeks spent flirting and learning more about the Maximoff family were crumbling before you. You were a fool to think it would last.

The music built to the familiar strum of old songs you used to listen to, and before you knew it, Sam, Natasha, and half the crew surrounded you on the dancefloor, pulling you away from your date. And it was all orchestrated by Bucky, leading them like a pack of wolves. You knew that look, the suave pull of his hand through slicked-back hair. And then, before you knew it, you were dragged away from the dancefloor.

"Hey," Pietro called over the music, pulling you to the side. "I like you. I do, but this isn't working."

"Wait –" You tried, reaching for his arm. But he was quick to deflect, and embarrassment warmed your cheeks.

"Whatever you're looking for," his eyes moved from Bucky and dropped when you noticed. He looked down with a sad smile. "Whoever you're looking for, I hope you find it."

It felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

"Please don't go."

But it was too late. Your plea was lost as he pushed himself away. Everyone saw it. All your friends' efforts and your attempts to find the one were wasted. Your feet carried you away too fast to notice the somber look Steve gave Bucky.

"You're running out of time, punk."

The city lights passed in a blur as a taxi drove you farther from the gala. The searing ache in your chest left you confused.

For years, you dreamed of Bucky Barnes, hope a dangerous feeling companion of yours. But you knew how he felt. You were nothing more than a friend; he had made that abundantly clear. But you couldn't cut the tether, even while someone else caught your interest. Pietro Maximoff was handsome and kind and loved his sister more than the world. But with Bucky's interruptions, it was no wonder why he didn't want to get involved.

But it still hurt.

A sob was swallowed back, but you couldn't stop the tears from rising. You were pitiful. It was the last time you'd ever ask the guys for help.

But the thought was gone with the sudden screeching of brakes. It made you hold on to the headrest in front of you. Trying to peer around at the commotion, you didn't expect to be cut off by two black SUVs. A moment later, a ringed hand banged on the taxi's hood.

"Get out of the car."

You knew that voice. And as you looked through the windshield, you could see Bucky Barnes peering back.

He was as poised as he was at the party, and the sharp look had you bracing the seat. The bitter spark of rejection caught the light, burning into brutal frustration. You didn't want to talk to him. You didn't want to see him. Not now.

"No."

He tilted his head to the side at the challenge.

"Get out of the fucking car." Bucky gritted. "I need to talk to you."

His voice was teetering dangerously into territory you had only heard about. It was his back rooms, no nonsense voice that snapped you back into the moment. Like hell it would work on you. So it was to be a standoff, one that that you weren't ready to back down from.

Once Bucky realized your position, he took a new approach. You could hear his intentional steps against the pavement as he reached the driver. He didn't say anything but dug into his pants pocket, his fingers flicking through his wallet smoothly.

"Unlock the car," Bucky ordered, pressing cash bills against the window.

The immediate click of the locks didn't help your bellyache, nor did the split second of peace you had before Bucky forced the door open and pulled you out of the cab.

"Are you crazy?" You barked, forcing him to release you as the cab sped off in the other direction.

But you were left in the middle of the road in Barnes territory, the sweep of their dark SUVs cutting off any chance to get out of this conversation.

"What's gotten into you?"

"I didn't want you to leave the party." He explained, his words softer now. "Not like that."

You couldn't believe him. You followed their advice to try and bag a good guy, but to what end?

"What?" You dared to challenge. "I don't know what you want from me. I'm not in the mood, James."

The curl of his name lingered, making your intentions clear. You never called him by his first name. And Bucky didn't like it one bit.

"Let me take you home."

As if you had a choice.

You choked on a frustrated snarl, wanting to hide and cry away your worries and wanting to claw at him like a villain. You hated it. You hated the pressure of his eyes, blue and dark against the night, to get in the car.

So you lifted your head high, took a steeling breath, and walked ahead of him. You were separated from the rest of the world in the backseat of his company car. The divider was a saving grace. You didn't want one of the drivers to see you like this.

But Bucky followed behind so quickly, getting in and closing the door before you could protest for space. You chose to stare out the window instead of looking back at him. The car lurched forward, and you took a moment to find balance.

"You're unhappy."

"No shit."

"Please," He started, turning his shoulders in toward you. Even out of the corner of your eye, you knew he wouldn't let this go. "Please talk to me. Don't close me out. I hated seeing you leave like that. Whatever Maximoff did, I'll fix it."

"You can't fix it!" You finally said, turning to him and gripping his shoulder in frustration. "You say you want me to be happy, to find someone, and then manage to scare off anyone that has the potential to do it." As your voice raised, heat radiated from your cheeks down your neck. His eyes were wide, listening to your grief. "He left because of you. It's not like you have feelings for me. What's the matter with you?"

You couldn't stand to look at him, not when he was so close. His cologne burned your nose, and you desperately needed him to get out of your system.

"Doll," Bucky breathed. He inched his way closer, not letting the anger of your words settle over him. "What if I did have feelings for you?" You would almost call his stare desperate. And then you confirmed it as his shoulders dropped, turning toward you. "It's all that I've wanted to tell you. And I can't see you with him." He admitted.

He moved with purpose all night, not intending to ruin your time with Pietro but to show you that he was the one who needed you. He should have been the one to hold you between dances and order you fine drinks. He should have picked you up so that you would never dare to get in a yellow cab.

But you weren't some wilting flower. You knew the risks of your following words.

"We're friends, Buck."

You held yourself together. You were strong and brave and gripping your heartstrings.

"Yes," He agreed. "But we…"

And for once, he was at a loss of words. The years wasted pining after him would finally be out in the open. You could finally be free of his torment. His eye contact was overwhelming; if he looked away, you would disappear.

"Look, We've been friends for a long time." And with an ounce more of bravery, you sighed. "But I'd like to be more than friends." You admitted. "I want to be so much more than that."

You were waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Bucky leaned closer in earnest, over the seat and bringing his face close. There was no teasing, no torment in his expression.

And with the tip of his chin, you were lost, pulled tight into a kiss and letting it blossom as cold metal snaked around your waist. You dreamed of his touch, and it burned down your throat like honey whiskey.

When you opened your eyes, Bucky had moved. He was no longer in the seat, now chest to chest with you. He was kneeling in the cramped space, the divider shielding you from the driver and the outside world.

"Do you know why Sam offered to help in the first place?" His words were slow as he pulled away, loud enough to hear. "Do you know why Steve jumped on board and corralled us to join? It's because he is tired of me dragging my fucking feet."  

"Bucky-"

But he closed the space for another set of slow kisses, deep and intentional.

"I've been an idiot." He admitted. "The guys know how I feel about you. I think they've always known." Another kiss as you pulled back, gripping the shoulders of his jacket. Expensive fabric under your fingertips, hot breath against yours. You were dizzy.

"And you agreed to help with this idea." You noted.

It wasn't a question, no challenge in your words. He agreed to help find you a man. Bucky took a hefty exhale.

"You know the business. It's not safe –" but you raised your hand with a groan, not buying his excuse.

Your fingers brushed over the curve of his chin, the sharp line of his beard a welcome sensation. God, you only ever dreamed of this. You savored the feel of him, your hand moving up his ear and combing your fingers through his air. Buck's eyes were darker than you've ever seen, his open mouth curving up in awe.

"'s not safe." He whispered. "I'm not gonna put you through that."

It was a weak defense. You knew the coterie of mercs, the warehouses, the shipments. You knew all of it and were aware of the danger. But it wasn't like you could cut ties and leave your life behind. You weren't sure you even wanted to.

"You wanted me to find someone else?" You dared to ask. The whisper died as he shook his head.

"All this deal did was make me jealous." He affirmed. "And tonight," His eyes raked down your frame. He never did finish his thought as lust washed over him. A breath passed between you two. "I never meant for you to hurt over it."

The limited space lets you mimic his actions, noting his heaving chest, blue eyes, and the pout of his kissed lips. How he kneeled down in front of you, crowding your space, made you dizzy. While your mouth curved up into a wanton grin, you couldn't help but chase another kiss.

Each touch melted the last of your anguish. The night was long forgotten as soon as he pressed forward, flattening you against the back of the seat. While you pulled up for air, his other hand moved to cup your chin. And then, with your eyes locked on his, he tilted your chin, eyes staring into the roof of the sedan as you felt lips against your jaw.

Hot, languid kisses burned against your pulse. The scrape of his teeth and burn of his beard drove you wild. And as he pulled back, his hand released your chin, following a mesmerized pattern down your skin.

The palm of his hand cupped your neck, down your shoulder, pulling down the thin strap of your dress. Your soft skin was on display, and Bucky's expression was wonderous. But his hand continued mapping, cupping the curve of your breast. A tactful squeeze left your head falling against the seat, a soft gasp on your lips, and your hand blindly reaching up to cover his. With a sharp breath, you found his eyes again. His pink lips were parted, eyes pleading with you.

You knew Bucky was a man of action, but this was uncharted territory. Your nod and an affectionate squeeze of his hand pulled him from his reverie.

He needed more, craving your skin. And as his hand fell from your chest to a solid grip on your ankle, you craved his exploration.

Shallow breaths were traded for deep, hungry kisses. Years of longing, of yearning for his touch and affection, finally were coming to a head. The brush of his tongue left your mind reeling, and regardless of the heat, a trail of goosebumps followed the path of his hand. Under your dress, he lingered over the smooth skin of your calf, over your knee, up your thigh, and to the meat of your hip. Rough, dexterous fingers carved prints into your skin hot enough to burn.

You refuse to miss a moment, eyes fixed on Bucky's as his palm covers the top of your thigh, the intention sitting heavy in your stomach. A live wire of nerves, you can feel him from the heat of your cheeks buzzing down to your toes.

And then, palming where you needed him most, your mouth dropped open with the softest of moans.

Bucky's eyes are wide, but it doesn't last as he finally lets himself get lost. As his eyes close, you admire the curve of his nose and his soft, dark eyelashes. But Buck is greedy, and as he peels his way under the cloth of your panties, you, too, close your eyes. Fingers are nimble, caressing your dripping seam under the dress.

You're a vision.

Convulsing under his touch, rogue pulls off his fingers drip honey down your thighs. Your breath is heaving, and your chest is dangerously close to falling out of the dress. Bucky finds refuge by rubbing slow, devastating circles against your clit. Every hitch of your breath and moan spur him on until you are staring at him with such reverence he thinks he'll collapse.

There's a magnetism, the long-lasting chemistry drawing you nearer to him. He swallows your moan as he slides a finger inside. You're in a desperate frenzy, pulling him close and arching into his body. He spurs on a need you've never had, demanding his smoldering kiss as you shake in his arms.

He's all you've ever wanted. You're crazy to think it could have ever been anyone else.

And then the car jerked to a stop.

There's a breathless laugh as he pulls away, Bucky's forehead resting on yours. You kept a hand on his cheek, thumb brushing his chin. Maybe, if you just ignored it, the outside world would go away.

That is, until you see a porch light turn on from your periphery. You try not to let embarrassment flood your system as you realize your situation, with one of your closest friends knuckle deep in the back seat.

Bucky doesn't share your distress.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, finally pulling his head back. Bucky smiled. His fingers lingered longer before pulling away, leaving you empty and wanting.

You must have looked as desperate as him, finally looking down at the brutal strain in his pants. But you had no time to overthink as his fingers carefully plucked at your dress strap. He was putting you back together, smoothing out the burn of his touch as he sat up.

If you begged, you were sure that he'd ravage you right there in the seat. But you tilted your head to look outside. You needed a distraction, anything to regain your good sense.

As you focused on the brownstone, you knew where he took you. You were in front of his house – the Barnes family house. He said he was taking you home.

"This isn't my place."

His smirk reached his eyes, and as he pulled open the door and jumped out, his gaze was fixed on you.

"For fucks sake, doll," Bucky's eyes were soft, still blown out. He held a hand out. "We've known each other our whole lives. I'm crazy about you. Are you gonna come up with me or not?"

And with an ardent stare, as if he hung the stars himself, you reached for his hand.

#mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky #mob!au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #the carriage scene #bucky barnes #lover boy

[thatnewweeb]

Baby Fever | My Hero Academia

Characters | Bakugo Katsuki, Todoroki Shoto, Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Toya, Kirishima Eijiro

CW | mentions of pregnancy, suggestive content, reader agreeing to get pregnant, kinda jealousy in Bakugo's, kinda pressure in Midoriya's (from his mom) but also wanting it too

A/N | I love the idea of the boys having baby fever (even though not all of these are them having baby fever), I just think it's so cute

Bakugo Katsuki

Deku was having a kid?!

Katsuki was stunned as he held his phone to his ear, listening to his childhood friend and perpetual rival talking excitedly about the news his wife recently gave him. His grip tightens on the phone as he listens to the green haired man on the other side of the phone gushing about how excited he is.

As soon as Izuku hangs up, he calls out to you, his own wife. When you walk into the room, he walks over to you quickly, long strides leaving him stood very close to you, his arms caging you against the wall.

The look you give as you look up at him makes him smile softly, biting his lower lip a little. He tells you the news about Izuku's first child being on the way, which of course makes you excited, happy for your friends.

"We should have a baby too," he smirks slightly, whispering into your ear. When you give him a surprised, slightly confused look, he smirks, leaning down to kiss you. "C'mon, babe. I can't let that bastard get that far ahead of me. Gonna help me keep up?"

There's no way you could possibly say no when he speaks and looks at you like that. There's no time wasted in trying, him immediately taking you to your shared bed. He can't let that bastard Deku get too far ahead after all, can he?

Todoroki Shoto

Shoto was never really sure if he wanted to have a child or not. He didn't have the best childhood, and he was scared that he would end up being a bad parent.

He was still scared of that, he couldn't deny it, but when you're cuddling with him on the couch, watching television, he can't help but consider the idea whenever a child actor comes on the screen.

This weird feeling had been following him for months now. He found himself doing things he wouldn't usually, resting his hand on your stomach more when you're cuddling, imagining you clinging onto him, heavily pregnant and somehow looking more beautiful than ever.

He had no idea you were also having these thoughts. You hadn't brought it up because you knew he was a little hesitant about the idea. You figured you'd wait for him to bring up the topic first so he doesn't feel pressured, but now, every part of your being aching for a baby, you know you just can't wait any longer.

On one of his days off, you walk up to your fiancé and tell him to put a baby in you. The look on his face is both cute and hilarious. Despite how demanding your initial request was, the two of you sit and talk for a while, getting both of your feelings out there.

When you both agree that you both definitely want a baby, you decide you'll start trying as soon as the wedding is over.

Midoriya Izuku

It had been 4 months since you and Izuku had gotten married in a beautiful ceremony in front of your family and closest friends. Both your groom and your new mother-in-law cried a lot.

Speaking of Izuku's wonderful mother, you were visiting her one day, as you and your husband typically do at least once a week. You absolutely don't mind doing this, I mean it when I say Inko is wonderful, and that includes to you. She fully welcomed you into her little family.

"So, when am I getting a grandchild?"

The question comes out of nowhere, Izuku choking on the water he unfortunately happened to be drinking. "Mom!"

"What?" she asks with a smile. "You've been married for a little while now, surely that's the next step, right?"

Izuku laughs nervously, glancing at you briefly and squeezing your hand. "We don't know when that'll be happening yet."

The entirety of the rest of the time you spend at Inko's home that day, he can't take his mind off what his mom said. He hadn't really even thought about it since you got married, content with his life the way it is now. Now an idea has been planted in his head.

When you're back in the car, driving back to your own house, Izuku interrupts you while you're speaking (he didn't mean to, he was just so deep in thought that he didn't even realise you were talking). He asks if you want to have a baby, and it takes you almost no time to say you do.

Todoroki Toya

There's nothing you could think of that triggered your baby fever. You just wanted a baby, and you wanted one bad. You know your boyfriend will be a good dad, even if he doesn't seem to believe it.

He doesn't seem to believe that he has any kind of soft side. The big idiot obviously doesn't realise the way he acts with you, and you know that he'll be similar with your baby.

He wasn't even considering the idea before you brought it up to him. You weren't exactly subtle about it either, practically jumping on him and telling him to give you his baby. The demand shocks him, but there's something about hearing it come from your mouth that made him want it, made him feel like it would be okay for that to happen. He trusts you, and if that's what you think is best and what you want, he'll give you that.

There is no time wasted, Toya happily spending the rest of the night making sure that you'll get his baby as soon as possible.

Kirishima Eijiro

Eijiro has always liked kids, he thinks they're just adorable! How could he not like them? Being a pro hero means that there are so many children that look up to him, and it isn't an unusual occurrence for him to be swarmed by young fans while he's on patrol.

The baby fever really kicks in for him when a family of three come up to him while he's out on patrol, an excited baby babbling in his mother's arms as he reaches out towards the hero.

The baby's mother explains to him that he's her son's favourite hero. He always smiles and babbles and points whenever Red Riot is on television. It goes without saying that hearing that makes your boyfriend's soft heart melt.

As soon as they leave, he decides he'll have to bring this up with you as soon as he gets back to you. He's known for a while that he wants a baby, but after that reaction, he knows he has to bring it up to you.

Of course, he does bring it up to you very quickly when he gets home after patrol is over. It's pretty much the first thing he says to you when he walks through the door, picking you up and spinning you around when you agree to start trying. He wastes no time in starting to try for a baby with you.

#mha #my hero academia #bakugo #bakugou #todoroki #midoriya #kirishima #dabi #dabi imagine #kirishima imagine #midoriya imagine #todoroki imagine #bakugo imagine #bakugou imagine #mha imagines #bakugo x reader #todoroki x reader #midoriya x reader #dabi x reader #kirishima x reader

[quimichi]

-ˏˋ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ CRUSH HDCS ࿐ྂ Pt. 1.....

WARNING: × pure fluff in my opinion

SUMMARY: just some idiots with a crush...you :)

CHARACTERS: Aether, Albedo, Al-haitham, Amber, Arlecchino, Ayaka, Ayato & Baizhu x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.537

AETHER

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Paimon is so done with his constant ranting and crying about you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 She had to stop herself from telling you so often like "Just PLEASE date him already" because she couldn't just fall into her besties back like that

ᯓᡣ𐭩 you would think he doesn't really like you cause he's all quite. Wrong, he actually jusz tries to cope with his rising heat and nervousness around you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did he once tell you that you smell nice even tho you were sweating lile a sinner in church? Yes

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did he also tell you that you look a bit different and like you haven't slept good after a haircut?...yes

ᯓᡣ𐭩 listen, he was concerned for you-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 everything was so embarrassing for him he thought you hate him now--- well, you didn't. Its hard not to find this weird and awkward ball of sunshine nice

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he also helps you out a lot, no matter whats the issue he's ready to help. And Paimon is the third wheel

ᯓᡣ𐭩 sometimes when he's nervous and talks to you he like suddenly needs to swallow down spit cause it gets stuck in his throat?? Idk how to explain it but i have this issue lol and its so hard to cover up the swallowing cause then people know youre nervous-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 literally once walked into a wall because he was looking at you. Luckily no one saw...except Paimon--she won't let him forget that ever

ᯓᡣ𐭩 speaking of Paimon, bro literally asked her for advice, and she was useful? Hey, look. Shes more than just emergency food-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she was like, "If you truly love someone, you cook them something good! Love goes through the stomach!"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and thats why he desperately cooks for you every day---just put Paimon out of her misery and kiss him already

ALBEDO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 has no idea how and why it happened but he won't complain, you are pretty so-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 kinda takes it as an opportunity to study love a bit lol. Its not like he's dumb, far from that, he knows what hes feeling and why he feels attracted to you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but somehow he can't tell you, words fail him to explain why although he knows

ᯓᡣ𐭩 is confused and is irritated lol

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did tell Succrose about it and my girl can hardly keep secrets-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 oh and like around a week after he noticed his crush on you he confessed

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he's pretty blunt and honest, straightforward if you will.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 there's honestly not much to say, he knows he likes you, also probably knows it's mutual, logic conclusion would be that he confesses so you two can consider a relationship after some time

ᯓᡣ𐭩 easy??? Like what's not to get???

AL-HAITHAM

ᯓᡣ𐭩 the strongest feeling he ever had for someone else was a book character-and that's also pretty rare cause he doesn't read fiction he only reads facts-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 treats you normally with a sprinkle of kindness

ᯓᡣ𐭩 you don't notice, no one would notice. Good for Al-Haitham cause ew what if people realize hes just a regular human being?? Can't have that

ᯓᡣ𐭩 would tell you to take breaks and eat an apple or other fruits in those breaks so you can concentrate better afterwards. Oh and take a breath of fresh air

ᯓᡣ𐭩 keeps the bitch face on. Only drops it when you're not looking.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 finds it incredibly cute when you play with your hair or bite your lip. Your concentration is adorable...

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if you read like him, he would consider reading one of your favorite books, even if it's stupid and not his thing at all. He wants a good reason to talk to you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 has no idea how to get out of the "I'm so fucking cool" bs to actually get closer to you without seeming cringe or needy

ᯓᡣ𐭩 feelings aren't his thing but hey, he trys. Just pay more attention and maybe you make it easier for him by doing the first step

AMBER

ᯓᡣ𐭩 nah cause she's so honest about it-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 probably all Mondstadt and their granny's know that Amber has a crush on you, except for you....dumbass

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she always asks you if you wanna join her on god knows what adventures

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she also always packs lunch for you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 like i said, she is pretty vocal about it and shows it quite well that she has an interest in you....and youre just brushing it off as kindness

ᯓᡣ𐭩 always ready to help! And she doesn't even need a thank you. Helping you is enough to make her happy, seeing your relieved is all she needs.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 gifts you flowers on a regular basis because they're just as pretty as you ♡

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she's so straightforward about her crush on you it's insane. People think she's dating you already, well wrong--

ᯓᡣ𐭩 big talk and actions but when it comes to beinh very vocal about her feelings she shuts down-she would stutter and blush not knowing what to say-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 like, pls stop being so oblivious to her attempts and just tell her you like her--then she'll confess too!

ARLECCHINO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 look, she's a busy woman (father), she doesn't have time for stupid crushes. She'll either tell you immediately once she figured it out, or just waits till the feelings disappear over time.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 why? If she is uncertain that this would work out with a fatui harbinger, then she wouldn't confess at all. You won't notice a thing.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but if she does feel like it could work out, maybe not immediately because you need time...and yeah maybe she needs to know a 100% too, she would court you (??)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 presenting you the finest things from all nations. Also giving you ifts from your home region cause...well maybe you miss it? And if you're from Fontaine she gives you only the most expensive shit hidden from all normal ordinary people-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she sneaks her way in your heart ngl-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and if she ever sees you with one of the things she gave you, she would make sure others know. Who knows who might have an interest in you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 would also make some space in her schedule just for you. Lets you know too. No, not to make you feel bad, nahhh. She wants you to know how important you are to her.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and that she will always have time for you no matter what.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she's kinda advertising herself. "Look, I'm the baddest bitch around."

AYAKA

ᯓᡣ𐭩 also makes space in her very busy schedule just for you. And if she can't find the time so you both can be alone, she takes you with her to her appointments and everything.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 wants her brothers 'ok' for it all. She wouldn't feel quite comfy if Ayato wouldn't like you. Thomas opinion is also very important to her.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if she every plays this weird cooking game with you, she trys to make it tame. She doesn't want you too disgusted or near throwing up cause then she'd feel bad

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and also trys cooking for you normally. She trys ok, she's getting better and better. Takes this as an excuse to cook your favorite meals.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 dances with you! She's shy about it but she does. Ayaka teaches you her favorite dances and moves, and would get quite close to you by doing this...plus for her

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but besides this she's very shy about her crush on you and won't admit it very fast. Even after months she wouldn't dare say a word about it to you or hint anything to drastic.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 tbh, it has to be you who would need to make the first step lol

AYATO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 very obvious...I mean...he gives you flowers, jewelry, new clothes. He takes you to events or dinners, important meetings. Lets you stay in the Kamisato estate for free. Bitch you even have your own room??

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ITS SO OBVIOUS

ᯓᡣ𐭩 i can't tell you more, except, just...just talk with him about it. Confront him and say, "yes" that's all he wants to hear from you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and see you happy ofc

BAIZHU

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if Chansheng can keep her mouth shut he wouldn't tell you at all. Or at least not so fast.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if you know, you know. Baizhus story is...something. i won't spoiler tho

ᯓᡣ𐭩 because of that he needs to be very sure about it all. He can't just jump into something that might not work out at all or have no future in the beginning.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he would show his interest with nice little gestures. Giving you medicine for free, helping your loved ones when sick also for free, smiling just a bit more at you or teaching you about herbs and all.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he's very gentle with you, scared he might break you. In truth it's actually him who would break--

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Qiqi would notice, she's a smart girl ofc she would. Yeah she knew you two were a thing before you two knew lol

ᯓᡣ𐭩 oh yeah and Changsheng blew it all-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Your hands wouldn't shake so much if you wouldn't love her"

TAGLIST ♡

@hehothrowawayfae @lucienbarkbark @ryu--19 @theblades @rikasurl

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #aether x reader #al haitam x reader #amber x reader #ayaka x reader #ayato x reader #baizhu x reader #arlecchino x reader #x f!reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #genshin impact paimon #genshin headcanons #genshin hcs

[peachhcs]

a fic or blurb of ryan’s farewell party for will pls?!

charm bracelet

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

samy heads to boston after ryan begs her to fly out for will’s farewell party in hopes of reconciling things between the ex-couple (writing grace and samy’s dynamic was actually so fun because i’ve never wrote them before)

2.1k words

i got so carried away with this it wasn’t gonna be this long but it turned into a whole fic. the ending of this is a bit interpret how you want, but in my mind it’s them not completely ignoring one another, but they aren’t gonna talk it out for a long while. p.s. the baby grace and will photo i found is actually adorable!

au masterlist

"please come?" ryan begged over the phone while samy sat at her desk pondering the offer he'd been trying to convince her of for the last twenty minutes. "if not for will, then for us? don't know when we'll see you if you aren't coming out to boston as often anymore," the brunette continued making samy feel even worse.

"hey, i'll still come to boston. i didn't just go for will, you know," the girl rolled her eyes slightly.

"then come out to see us. you don't even have to see will if you don't want. there will be enough people that you'll probably be able to avoid him," ryan kept persisting because 1. he knew samy still cared deep down and 2. she was their friends too and he knew the guys really wanted to see her again before school started back up.

"you're so annoying," she teased a bit making them both laugh. "i'll think about it, okay? i might have to be back at school, but i'll see."

"promise?"

"i promise," samy nodded and the two ended the call. when her phone found its place back on her desk, samy knew damn well already that she was completely free that weekend. she just didn't know if she could stomach potentially seeing will.

—

two weeks later, samy and her mom were on a plane to boston for the party. ellen was still very close to colleen and after being there for will his entire life, she wasn't missing this despite everything that's happened.

gabe and ryan drove into the city the day before to catch up with samy themselves. will didn't have much idea that the hughes were in town and probably wouldn't find out until tomorrow at the party.

"hey, hughesy," ryan greeted with a large smile. his arms quickly slid around the girl's frame in a tight hug before letting gabe take his turn.

"hi, it's good to see you guys again," samy grinned widely. she really did miss seeing them. it'd been since worlds that they were all together like this.

"i'm glad you came out. i didn't think you would," gabe admitted as the three sat at a small table waiting for the waiter to take their orders.

"i didn't think i was coming either, but i wanted to see you guys before school started and we'd get too caught up in everything," the brunette explained which made them smile.

"i can't believe school's gonna start again. feels like it just ended," gabe chuckled.

"don't remind me," ryan groaned earning more laughs from the other two.

the three quickly filled each other in on the things they missed. it felt like old times when everyone was in michigan together spending weekends sitting on a floor going back and forth with stupid little games. all of that felt like such simpler times because no feelings were involved. at least not any known feelings.

things settled a bit as samy and the boys ate their sandwiches they ordered and the topic shifted to one samy knew was gonna come up eventually.

"i don't know if i've said this to you, but will's a real idiot," gabe said quietly.

samy's jaw clenched a bit, "yeah, he is."

"have you..talked to him at all?" ryan wondered and the girl instantly shook her head.

"no and i don't really want to. i don't even know what i'd say to him or what he could say that would make me forgive him. he threw it all away and that really fucking hurts," samy admitted truthfully.

"right and you have every right to not wanna talk to him. he was an asshole for not trying to talk things out with you," gabe nodded in agreement.

"can i just say one thing though? i'm no way trying to defend anything that he said or did, but you gotta remember how will is with this kind of stuff sometimes. he says the wrong things when he's thinking something else. you guys were best friends above everything. you know him better than any of us probably. you really want to leave things on this note?" ryan said softly.

samy's gaze flicked away from the boys knowing ryan did have a small point in the back of her mind, but she wasn't ready to admit that. things were confusing and hard.

being back in boston had this pull on her. everything she's ever known came from michigan and boston—will being one of those things. he hurt her so badly, yet a really, really small part of her wanted to reach out.

"it doesn't matter anymore, ry. he meant what he said and even if he didn't wanna say it, he still did. i was basically worthless to him," samy couldn't though. her head overruled her heart knowing she needed to stand her ground because there was nothing more she could say to him.

—

will's entire house was packed with people. room to room, wall to wall, lawn to lawn—there were people everywhere. ryan wasn't wrong that samy could lose herself pretty easily into the crowd.

she hung outside a lot because out there she could escape anywhere if she saw will whereas inside could end up trapping her if she wasn't careful. she happily caught up with drew, aram, vote, and cutter who greeted her with bright smiles.

the idea of even being in the same proximity as will sent goosebumps down the girl's arms. her eyes were constantly flicking around as if she would see him turn some corner and make eye contact.

somehow, she managed to find a corner where it wasn't too crowded by the lawn chairs. the youngest hughes sat out on them just people watching when familiar locks of blonde hair started coming her way. for a moment, samy tensed, wondering how grace took the news about their breakup because she hadn't exactly talked to the oldest smith sibling since it happened.

"hey, samy," the older girl greeted warmly.

"hi, gracie," samy smiled, relaxing a bit when she saw the girl's smile.

"i'm happy to see you. it's been awhile," grace found a seat beside her for a moment while the brunette nodded a bit.

"yeah, it has," her gaze flicked away because they both knew why it had been awhile since they saw one another. grace didn't make a huge appearance at the family vacation a few months ago since she was busy apartment hunting and even then, her and samy didn't talk much because they never got to catch one another at the right time.

"this might be a stupid question, but..how are you?" the older girl wondered gently.

"i'm..i'm okay. hanging in there, i guess," samy nodded, biting the inside of her cheek.

"i'm sorry i haven't talked to you since..i don't want you to think i hate you or anything. last month was super busy and you looked busy and i didn't know if it was too soon to ask about everything.." grace trailed off a bit when she realized she was rambling. samy quickly shook her head.

"don't worry about it. i was worried you hated me," a small laugh sounded from the soccer players lips.

"oh my god no! i don't. i promise. i actually..am mad at will for how all of this happened. i..i was shocked when you left and i found will out there..i'm sorry. i..i wish i had an answer for my brother's reason, but i don't. i..i don't know why he broke up with you," grace frowned deeply.

"i left in such a mess, i'm sorry again. everything happened way too fast," samy shook her head.

"have you talked to him since.."

"ry and gabe asked me that yesterday and i said no. i mean, i have nothing to say to him, so why would i, you know?" the brunette shrugged.

"right, of course. mom told him this morning you and your mom were coming. that went over..interesting to say the least," grace tapped her finger against her cup.

"i've been avoiding him, i guess. i'm not sure i can really stomach seeing him, but..i don't know. felt like i owed it to him to be here at least? and the other guys too. don't know when i'll see them again. this whole thing feels like it screwed up everything with everyone," samy laughed dryly.

"i get it. i'm glad you did come. i saw your mom earlier, it was good to see her. even if will won't admit it, i know he's glad you're at least here too. one last hurrah before we move him out to california," grace said.

samy thought back to all the times will would talk about his move to cali whenever it happened. he'd always say how she'd fly out with him to help him decorate his apartment when the time came. plus, all the times will told her how he couldn't wait until they could live together so long distance would be over, yet he'd wait forever for her.

god, what happened to that will?

"you're thinking," the blonde pointed out, snapping samy back into reality.

while will knew her insanely well, so did grace. the two girls did grow up alongside one another even though there was a three year age gap. grace was the older sister samy never had as a little girl and she still was, so of course the older girl knew when samy was lost in thought.

"yeah, sorry," the younger girl shook her head.

"penny for your thoughts?" the expression made samy smile because will said the same thing.

"just how will always talked about me being there with him when he moved to california and how he couldn't wait until i was done with school to move out there with him. i wonder where that will went who was so ambitious about us and saying he would wait forever for me," the younger girl smiled sadly.

a little sigh escaped grace's lips hearing samy sound so heartbroken still. "i wish i knew what was running through his mind. i didn't even know he was considering it. it shocked the hell out of all of us. he's in there still somewhere, i know it and i know you don't wanna hear that, but i gotta believe it. i have never seen my brother like someone as much as he likes you, it confuses me how he just threw it all away like that," the blonde shook her head.

"you and me both," samy frowned this time.

"i think you just gotta give it time because damn, all of us believed you guys were it for each other. you'll find your way back, i think you two just need some space. will needs to settle in california and play a few games with the sharks and then i'm sure he'll come around. i don't believe this is the true end for you guys," grace said firmly.

the youngest hughes wanted to believe her so badly, but she just couldn't.

"maybe. it's hard to say though," samy said instead of being a complete pessimist about it.

the party ended a few hours later with samy successfully avoiding any contact with will. she didn't even see him which was surprising because she knew he was making his rounds.

her and her mom drove back to the hotel in silence just unwinding from the long day and talking to everyone they saw.

samy was brushing her teeth when her mom stuck her head in. the younger girl raised her eyebrow in confusion.

"i have a gift from you from someone i spoke to today," ellen said vaguely. the brunette raised her eyebrow.

"who?"

mrs. hughes didn't say anything while she just placed the envelope into samy's hand. the girl saw her name scribbled across the top in handwriting that she quickly recognized as will's. samy's gaze snapped to her mom's.

"i told him he's gonna do great in san jose," ellen said because she knew her daughter knew who that envelope was from.

the older woman slipped out of the bathroom leaving samy with the gift in her hand. she should've thrown it away, but curiosity got the better of her and she carefully ripped it open.

there wasn't any note or card, only a small charm of a shark.

her eyes danced to the charm bracelet sitting on her wrist that held her most precious charms.

will knew everything about her charm bracelet because he supplied most of the charms on the chain.

she remembered seeing the shark charm in some little gift shop with will many months ago, quickly mumbling something about how adorable it was and would fit the aesthetic for will's soon to be san jose career.

she had no idea will went back to buy it for her.

samy even wondered how long he's had it for.

without a word, samy clipped it onto the chain, adding one more pretty charm to her bracelet and a tiny smile painted her lips.

#will smith hockey #hughes!sister x will smith au #samy x will #boston college hockey #samy hughes #boston college #will smith x oc #uofmichigan #will smith imagine #umich hockey #bc eagles #bc hockey #san jose sharks #ws6 #umich wolverines #umich soccer #ryan leonard #gabe perreault #usa hockey #team usa hockey

[ao3commentoftheday]

Hi!

I'm trying to find a beta reader for my fics, but I have no idea how to potentially find one.

Do you have any suggestions?

The two most common ways of going about it are posting something on your blog or adding an Author's Note to the end of your fic.

There are also blogs like @needabeta that help people out, and depending on your fandom there could be a discord server where you could ask, as well.

Once you get a volunteer, I recommend talking to them about what kind of beta work you're looking for. Do you want someone to check for typos and grammar? Do you want them to help with canon compliance? Are you looking for a cheer reader? Is there anything you don't want them to comment on?

Several years ago now, I made a Beta Reader Checklist that might be useful when you're having that conversation. It will at least help you think of what you might want to discuss.

What about the rest of you? How have you found beta readers in the past?

#asks and answers

[thatdammchickennugget]

Twists Of Fate

pairing -james potter x fem!reader

summary - a chance reunion at a wedding leads to unexpected sparks between you and james

warnings - shitty ex, james is a danger to everyone around him, fluff

wordcount - 2.2k

You're standing near the edge of the dance floor, nursing a glass of champagne and pretending to be deeply interested in the intricacies of your friend's wedding decor. The fairy lights twinkle overhead, casting a warm glow on the happy couples swirling around you. You try to focus on the joy of the occasion, but your mind keeps drifting back to the events of the past few weeks.

Your ex-boyfriend, the one who decided that your relationship wasn't worth more than a passing fling, is here. And not only is he here, but he's here with a new girl, draped on his arm like the latest fashion accessory. Every time you catch sight of them, your heart twists painfully in your chest.

"Hey, you look great," he says after walking up to you, a smug smile playing on his lips as his new girlfriend giggles beside him. "Too bad things didn't work out between us, huh?"

Before you can formulate a response that doesn't involve throwing your drink in his face, he leans in closer, his voice dripping with faux sympathy. "Listen, I just wanted to say that I hope we can still be friends, you know? It's not like we ended things on bad terms or anything."

You bite back a bitter laugh, nodding along as if his words actually mean something to you. In your opinion, him cheating on you and then blaming his mistake on you left you far from ‘on good terms’. Inside, you're seething with anger and frustration. How dare he waltz in here with his new conquest, acting like he's the picture of decency?

But just as you're about to excuse yourself and find someplace else to drown your sorrows, a voice interrupts.

"Sweetheart, there you are! I've been looking everywhere for you."

You blink in surprise as James Potter, of all people, strides up to you, an easy grin on his face. He slips an arm around your waist, drawing you close. His touch is warm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the icy dread pooling in your stomach.

"James?" you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

Of course you remember him from school. Everyone knew of him. You had talked to him once in a while during your time at school, mostly when he found himself interrupting your study sessions with Remus in the library, but since graduating two years ago your paths hadn’t crossed again until right now.

He doesn't miss a beat, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Sorry I'm late, love. Got caught up trying to find a decent tie. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find one that matches your eyes?"

Your eyes fall down to his broad chest on their own accord, and to your surprise, his tie actually happens to match almost perfectly.

Your ex is staring, slack-jawed, clearly not expecting this turn of events. James turns to him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, I don't think we've met. I'm James, her date."

"Date?" your ex echoes, the smugness evaporating from his expression.

"Yes, date," James repeats cheerfully, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You know, the person you bring to events like this to remind you what it's like to have someone who actually appreciates your company. But hey, I get it, it can be confusing for some people."

You can't help but stifle a laugh at the way he says it, his tone so breezy and unbothered. You decide to play along, slipping your arm around his in return.

"Thanks for coming to find me," you say, trying to sound as natural as possible. "I was just about to head back to the dance floor."

James winks at you, his grin widening. "Anything for you, darling."

As he leads you away, you glance back to see your ex still standing there, looking utterly flabbergasted. It's a small victory, but it feels monumental.

"You didn't have to do that," you murmur once you're out of earshot.

James shrugs, his expression softening. "Seemed like you could use a hand. Plus, it’s always fun to mess with someone who clearly deserves it."

You laugh, the tension in your shoulders easing a bit. "Thanks. I owe you one."

"Oh, I plan to collect," he says with a teasing glint in his eye. "But for now, how about a dance? You know, to really sell the whole 'date' thing."

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. "Alright, Potter. One dance."

As you follow James onto the dance floor, the music envelops you, its lively beat washing away the lingering discomfort from the encounter. James wastes no time in taking the lead, his movements smooth and confident as he guides you through the crowd.

"So," he says, his voice close to your ear as he spins you effortlessly, "how's life been treating you since Hogwarts?"

You can't help but chuckle at his casual demeanor, the tension of the evening melting away with every step. "Oh, you know, the usual. Trying to navigate the treacherous waters of adulting and all that."

James grins, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Ah, yes, the dreaded adulting. I hear it's a real beast but I wouldn’t know anything about that."

You nod in agreement, your laughter mingling with the music. "Tell me about it. Sometimes I wish I could just go back to worrying about O.W.L.s and Quidditch matches."

"Hey, at least in the wizarding world, adulting comes with the added bonus of using magic without getting into trouble," James quips, twirling you expertly before pulling you back into his arms. "Although, I suppose dealing with an ex at a wedding could be considered a form of dark magic."

You playfully swat at his arm, unable to suppress a grin. "You're terrible, you know that?"

He grins back, his eyes alight with mischief. "Guilty as charged. But hey, at least I'm charmingly terrible."

As the song shifts to a more upbeat tempo, James takes advantage of the moment to unleash his dance moves. Except, instead of smooth and confident, his movements are more like a cross between a flailing Hippogriff and a clumsy first-year attempting a Transfiguration spell.

You can't help but burst into laughter at the sight of him, his arms flapping wildly and his feet stumbling over each other. "Merlin's beard, James! Are you trying to hex the dance floor or something?"

He shoots you a mock offended look, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oi, watch it! I'll have you know, I'm a dance prodigy in the making."

You raise an eyebrow, unable to contain your grin. "Prodigy? More like a disaster waiting to happen."

Undeterred, James continues to dance with reckless abandon, his movements becoming increasingly exaggerated with each passing moment. He spins and twirls, his limbs flying in all directions as if controlled by an unseen force.

"Alright, alright, I admit it," he says between gasps for breath, his cheeks flushed with exertion. "Maybe I'm not the next Fred Astaire, but at least I'm having fun. And getting to see that pretty smile of yours is worth making a fool of myself."

You can't help but feel a warmth spread through you at James's words, his sincerity cutting through the playful banter. Despite his less-than-graceful moves, there's an endearing charm to his earnestness that you can't help but admire.

"Well, in that case," you say with a teasing grin, "I suppose I can forgive your questionable dancing skills."

James grins back, his eyes shining with amusement. "Gee, thanks. I'll try not to let it go to my head."

As the music continues to pulse around you, you find yourself caught up in the moment, dancing with James in a whirlwind of laughter and joy. Together, you move in sync, your steps perfectly imperfect as you twirl and sway to the rhythm of the music.

Just as you're both getting into the swing of things, James's exuberant movements nearly send him crashing into an elderly witch who's been watching the dance floor with a bemused expression. You gasp, reaching out instinctively to steady her, but James, ever the smooth talker, beats you to it.

"Whoa there, almost lost my footing!" James exclaims, flashing the woman his most charming smile. "But don't worry, I'm as steady as a Hippogriff on a broomstick."

The elderly witch chuckles, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, steady or not, you certainly know how to liven up a party, young man."

James grins, his charm dial turned up to maximum. "Why, thank you, ma'am. It's all in a day's work for a dashing wizard like myself."

You can't help but roll your eyes at his shameless flattery, but the elderly witch seems thoroughly charmed, her laughter filling the air as James regales her with tales of his misadventures on the dance floor.

After a few minutes of chatting, you gently suggest that perhaps it's best to continue the conversation off the dance floor to avoid any more accidents. The elderly witch nods in agreement, bidding James farewell with a fond pat on the arm.

As you lead James away, the two of you share a knowing grin. "Smooth move, Potter," you tease, nudging him playfully.

James chuckles as he throws an arm over your shoulders. "What can I say? Charming old witches is just one of my many talents."

You shake your head in mock exasperation, but there's a warmth spreading through you at the easy camaraderie between you. Despite the chaos of the evening, being with James feels surprisingly natural, as if you were hanging out with an old friend rather than just an aquaintance.

At the bar, James orders a couple of drinks, and you find a quiet corner to settle into. The soft glow of the fairy lights creates an intimate atmosphere, and as you sip your drink, you find yourself relaxing in his company.

"So," James begins, leaning back in his chair with a playful glint in his eyes, "tell me something interesting about yourself that I wouldn't know from our Hogwarts days."

You ponder for a moment, swirling the liquid in your glass thoughtfully. "Well, I've developed quite the talent for baking since leaving school. There's something therapeutic about kneading dough and watching it rise."

James raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Is that so? I'll have to enlist you as my personal pastry chef sometime."

You laugh, nudging him playfully. "Don't get your hopes up. My baking skills might be up to par with your dancing."

James chuckles. "Well, I guess that means we'll have to stick to takeout for our first date then."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Are you asking me out on a date, Potter?"

James leans in, his grin widening. "Consider it a formal invitation. How about dinner at that new Italian place in Diagon Alley tomorrow? I hear they have the best tiramisu."

You pretend to mull it over, though your heart is already racing with excitement. "Hmm, Italian food and dessert? Sounds tempting. I suppose I could pencil you into my busy schedule."

James feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Penciled in? I demand top priority, thank you very much."

You laugh, the warmth of his playful banter melting away any lingering reservations. "Alright, you win. Dinner it is."

"Excellent," James says with a satisfied grin. "I'll pick you up at seven, then?"

You nod, feeling a rush of anticipation at the prospect of spending more time with him. "Seven it is. I'll be ready."

As you both finish your drinks, James suddenly feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns to see the elderly witch from earlier, a twinkle in her eye.

"Excuse me, young man," she says with a smile, "but would you care to dance with an old lady like me?"

James's grin widens at the unexpected invitation. "Of course, I'd be honored!"

He shoots you an apologetic look before following the woman onto the dance floor, leaving you chuckling at his eagerness. Watching James twirl the elderly witch with surprising grace, you can't help but feel a fondness for him grow.

As you observe them dance, you realize just how lucky you are to have him by your side tonight. Despite the chaos of the wedding and the presence of your ex, James has managed to turn what could have been a disastrous evening into one filled with laughter and joy.

After a few minutes, James returns to your side with a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that. Couldn't resist the opportunity to show off my moves to a new audience."

You laugh, shaking your head in amusement. "No need to apologize. You’re quite the hit out there."

James beams at the compliment, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Well, I aim to please."

As you both make your way towards the exit and he bids you farewell with a cheesy kiss on your hand, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within you. Tomorrow's date with James suddenly feels like the highlight of your week, and you can't wait to see where this newfound connection will take you.

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[annwrites]

forever

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: you & billy go to a vegas casino. the next day, you have a scare & make a commitment.

— tags: ♡

— tw: gambling

— word count: 7,412

— a/n: while i am very proud of this entire series so far, there's just something more about this post for me. I actually cried while writing this one. i hope you all enjoy!

find my other posts concerning billy here

GIF by 62737462718star

The next day, you and Billy stay snuggled up in bed, watching TV—him, at first, changing the channel every few minutes as soon as you got interested in something just to drive you nuts—napping, eating, talking, and every once in awhile getting on each other’s nerves just for fun. 

But, as you laid with your head on his chest and his fingers in your hair, you were completely content to fall back asleep listening to his steady breathing. The beat of his heart.

You wake in the middle of the night to Billy tossing and turning beside you, muttering unintelligibly. His brows are furrowed, body slick with sweat.

You cup his cheek in your hand, shooshing him, telling him to wake up.

And when his eyes do open, they're full of fear. He looks to you at his side and his face crumples. "Oh, baby doll," he says, burying his face between your breasts, wrapping his arms around you.

You twine your fingers in his hair, holding him to you. "It was just a nightmare. It's okay."

"I lost you," he whispers. "You...fuck, you stopped breathing. I-"

"Shh, it wasn't real. I'm right here. Shh."

You let him cry softly against your chest until you eventually coax him back to sleep by reassuring him over and over again that you're all better now. You're still here.

"I love you. Just try and go back to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up, okay?"

He nods, pulling you closer. "I love you, too."

While still a tad under the weather, you feel far better the next day. And are honestly itching to get out of the motel room, even if it's just to go sit outside or ride shotgun while Billy drives around, letting you sight-see.

You're just coming out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go, when Billy comes back into the room carrying breakfast with him.

He kicks the door closed with his boot—a brown paper bag held between his teeth, to-go cups in one arm, a couple more bags in the other.

He looks up to you with a raised brow as he begins setting everything down. He nods toward the bed. "Take all that off and get back into bed."

You come over to him. "I feel better today. I'm tired of being stuck in this room, Billy. It's been days now. Can we please go do something?"

You bat your lashes at him, pressing up against him and he groans as you slip a hand in his pocket. "Pretty please?"

Before he can tell you, yet again, to get back into bed, you swiftly remove your hand, his keys dangling from your fingers.

He sighs, holding out his hand. "Yeah, you're hilarious. C'mon, give 'em."

You back up a step, hiding them behind your back. "As soon as you promise to let me out of here."

He studies you for a moment. "Maybe in another day or-"

"No, today."

He crosses his arms, jaw flexing. "I said no. And that's final."

You step closer to him, reaching out for his hand, which he snatches away.

"No. Do...do you have any idea what you put me through? I thought..." He shakes his head. "Don't ever fucking do that again, alright?"

Your lip twitches. "I will do my utmost to never get sick again. I promise."

You press yourself against his chest then. "Now let me outside."

He sighs. "Only once you've had breakfast."

You snuggle closer. "Deal."

"If you so much as sneeze, I'm taking your ass back."

You roll your eyes. He'd been like this since before you stepped out the door. He'd even forced a thermometer under your tongue before letting you go out, which had read at a perfect 98.7°—a temperature that should've pleased him, but he'd instead frowned.

You'd tried making a joke about him just wanting to keep you all to himself for another day, but had known it was because he was terrified of you going back outside and getting sick again.

You turn in your seat to face him and run your fingers through his hair.

He fights against his lip twitching at the tender gesture. He sighs then. "Alright, where to? Unless you want me to pick?"

He looks at you then, a smirk now on his face. "We are in Sin City. Could always hit a sex shop, then head back and create our own entertainment for the day."

You lean over, kissing him deeply and when you pull away, he has a brow raised, thinking he's talked you into it.

"Nice try."

He leans back, rolling his eyes as he turns the car over.

"Billy, stop, we can't go in. This is ridiculous. They're never going to buy your fake; I'm sure they see them everyday."

Billy was currently pulling you alongside him...into Caesar's Palace. He'd gotten the idea to go gambling in his head, and not even offering to go to a sex shop to try on skimpy lingerie had managed to talk him out of it. You'd even threw in that he could finally cuff you to whatever he wanted and have his way with you if he just turned back around, but he'd not listened to a word.

You'd tried tugging unsuccessfully against his hand, unable to pull him back an inch in the other direction. He'd instead led you further inside. And, just when he'd thought—ignorantly—as he passed the hotel lobby, headed in the direction of the casino floor, he was about to get away with it, a large man dressed in a suit, who was probably twice the size of Billy, stepped in his way.

Billy didn't shrink away from his authoritative presence, but you might've hidden yourself just the least bit behind him as you glanced up shyly to the security guard.

"Somewhere you're headed?" He asks, voice a deep baritone tune.

Billy looks up at him with a bored expression, nodding behind him. "Got a few greenbacks that're just burnin' a hole in my pocket."

He goes to step past him, but the man side-steps, once again blocking him.

"ID card, pal."

Billy retrieves his wallet, handing him the requested piece of information.

He studies it with a raised brow, then looks at Billy. "Billy Squier? You really thought someone would buy that?" He tosses it back to him. "Go on, get out of here."

Billy shrugs, tucking his wallet back away. "Like I can help that we share the same name." He smirks, flashing him a dazzling smile. "The Stroke is a damn good song, though, ain't it?"

He glances to you, then back to the security guard.

The man chooses to ignore Billy then, honing in on you. "You got a fake for me, too? Let me guess: Stevie Nicks? No. Cindy Lauper."

You hold Billy's hand more tightly. "I-"

Billy interrupts you. "She left hers in the car." He lets go of your hand then. "Listen, man, what's it going to take? My money's good, ain't it?" He pulls out a wad of rolled up cash, counts out a few bills, then reaches forward, feigning shaking his hand, the bills disappearing in the other man's grip. "Just trying to show my girl a good time. What, you've never been young and in love before?"

"You ever been employed before, kid?" He shoves the money back against Billy's chest. "Go on, before I have to use force."

Billy gives him a glare before turning back around, wrapping his arm around your waist. "C'mon, baby, we'll go blow a grand at Circus Circus instead."

Somehow, you and Billy get lucky at the next casino. You show up just when the security guards are changing shifts and sneak right in. Your heart had been pounding, and you couldn't tell whether it was your palm or his that was sweaty, but you eventually come to wrap your arms around one of his as he weaves between slot machines and craps tables.

You glance around, lights twinkling in your wide eyes in the dim lighting, the room illuminated by colorful overhead chandeliers, and neon slot machines. There's even a section of the room that's modeled after a carousel.

You look up to Billy then, walking alongside him. "Can I play a slot machine?" You ask sweetly.

"Once I win at blackjack."

You frown. "Do you even know how?"

He stop, turning back to you. "Baby, I've got skills you've never seen."

You hook your finger on his black half-unbuttoned shirt. "That's likely."

He shakes his head. "Keep it up."

When he turns away, you smack his ass and he laughs.

You stand behind Billy, actually impressed. He'd not been lying about knowing how to play cards. While nearly every other person sitting at the table had eventually folded, or busted more times than they were comfortable with, and thus left with bruised egos, Billy's chips were just piling up.

You didn't like the way some people were eyeing his winnings, however.

You lean down close to his ear as he holds his cards close to his chest. "Billy, I think that's enough-"

"After this hand."

You sigh, frowning. "You said that twenty minutes ago."

He taps two fingers against the table and the dealer slides another card his way.

"Like I can help that I'm on a roll." He looks up at you, smirking. "Think you might be my little good-luck charm."

You shift on your feet. "You have way more than you came in with now. Can I please just go try a slot machine?"

He glances to the dealer and watches as he turns over a card and a smile breaks out across Billy's face as he throws his own cards down, slamming his fists against the table. "Woo! Winner winner, baby!"

He pulls more chips in his direction, which you grab in your fists, heading in another direction with them. You hear him curse from behind you, but quickly gathers the remaining ones on the table before following you to go cash in.

After finishing up with the casino’s teller, Billy securely pockets away a few hundred dollars, practically beaming from his winnings. He then hands you a five and nods toward the slot machines. “Go nuts.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Only five dollars?”

He leans down close to you. “You want more, guess you’ll have to blow me.”

Your expression then morphs into a scowl. “You’re so-”

“Y’know, my dice, when I play craps later?”

You turn your back to him, heading toward a slot machine. “That is so not what you meant.”

“Not my fault that my cock is all you can think about.”

After losing once, you’d been ready to burn the entire building down. But after a few times? You were seething. You yank on the arm one last time and it then demands more money.

“Oh, that is such bull. It took all my money!”

Billy glances to those few others who are seated at nearby machines and a muscle in his jaw feathers when he sees them looking your way as you continue to make a scene.

“I didn’t win once. This game is rigged. I want a different machine!”

He can’t believe you’re getting this upset over losing five dollars that hadn’t even been yours to begin with, anyway.

“Honey-”

“Don’t honey me, I want another five,” you state, holding out your hand.

He crosses his arms. “I think someone might have a bit of a gambling problem.”

The vein in the middle of your forehead makes an appearance—he’s never seen that trick before. “I wanted cherries. I kept getting fucking bananas and-”

He steps closer to you, needing to calm you before someone calls security. “Sweetheart, I will give you all the banana you want when we get back to the motel. But right now-”

“I said cherries! See, you’re not even listening to me.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. Good Lord, you’re acting like a little kid. And he typically relied on you to be the mature one. Seeing you so pissed was funny at first, but now you were getting a bit scary.

“Alright, fine, I will pop your cherry when-”

You lean your head back, groaning. “Too late for that now, isn’t it?” You look at him again.

He finally reaches up, squeezing your cheeks until your lips are puckered. “You want to get us kicked out?”

“No,” you mutter through fish lips.

He smirks. You look adorable like this. So tiny and angry and your face all squished in his strong grip. Like a pissed off kitten. “If I give you another five, will you promise—if you lose—to control your temper, and behave yourself, and not be a sore loser?”

“Yes.”

He releases you, giving you the promised amount of cash.

“Motherfu-”

He yanks you up from the stool by your upper arm before you can finish that expletive. “Alright, time to go. You’ve had enough.”

“Just give me another-”

“Nope, you’ve had enough.”

“But-”

“No buts. C’mon. You’d leave us high and dry if I let you have your way.”

“You are so not getting lucky tonight.”

“Already did. Sounds like you’re the one who didn’t.”

“Oh, you son of a-”

Once the two of you are back at the motel, you’d thankfully calmed down. Billy was almost afraid to leave not just his money, but the keys to the Camaro anywhere you could get to them, lest you return to the casino for a second round. Third, really.

But, once you were in a bubble bath and softly humming to yourself as you washed up, he figured that you seemed well-enough over it.

After bathing, you stand over your bag of toiletries with shaking hands and wide eyes, your heart hammering in your chest as you stare down at a tampon that’d been hidden at the bottom of the bag.

You were late. Very late, by your standards. Your period had always been like clockwork. If it was ever ‘late’, it was by no more than a day. Ever. And even that was rare. Far and few between.

But today made five. The two of you had used protection every time. But…what if there had been a hole in one of the condoms? Or some of his semen had somehow leaked out or… That night on top of the Camaro. But he’d finished on your stomach. Not inside of you. No. This wasn’t happening. You were not-

“You about done in there? I need to take a piss.”

You jolt, dropping the plastic tube on the floor, staring at the closed door, unable to form a single word on your tongue. Until you manage to choke out, “Just a sec.”

“Gettin’ all dolled up for me just to go to bed?”

Your eyes sting with unshed tears. God, you want him to just leave you be for a few more minutes so you can collect yourself. Because right now? You felt on the verge of a hysterical breakdown.

You stare at yourself in the mirror. Your face had gone pale, all blood drained from your lips, your eyes wide and terrified. And you were shaking like a leaf.

You begin taking deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. Oh God, you felt like you were about to pass out.

It was nothing.

You’d been under a lot of stress lately, that was all. Yes, that made perfect sense. From the moment you’d left Hawkins, you’d been on a non-stop rollercoaster of emotions. All the traveling, the fighting, worrying about money, worrying about each other, worrying about the future, you getting sick—it was a perfect recipe for a late period.

And it was only five days. Just because it was always on time before didn’t mean it couldn’t be late now. Sometimes bodies were weird. They didn’t always operate how they were supposed to. Obviously, or so many diseases and disabilities wouldn’t exist. And stress could wreak havoc on the healthiest of people. So, you had nothing to worry about. Right?

“Sweetheart?”

You quickly gather your things, your stomach now in knots, shoulders tense, jaw locked tight.

You swing open the door and stare up at Billy. “All yours,” you say stepping past him.

A moment later, you hear him relieving himself. You let out a breath of relief that he hadn’t noticed you were upset.

You’d barely touched your dinner. Billy had noticed, but you’d used the excuse that you ‘weren’t all that hungry’. He’d stared at you for a moment before stealing one of your shrimp, telling you that he’d eat them if you weren’t going to. He hadn’t noticed your palm pressed against your stomach.

Once the two of you were in bed, you’d turned your back to him, trying to fight back tears. If…if you were…what would happen to the two of you? You’d felt so sure that you’d found the one now. But this… A baby would ruin everything. He’d leave you. This much he wouldn’t stand for, you were sure of it.

You were both eighteen. Kids yourselves. What the hell did either of you know about being parents? You wouldn’t have any idea of how to be a proper mother, you’d not been given an example of one yourself. And Billy had his history with his father.

You hadn’t had that talk yet: what you wanted when it came to kids. You don’t even know what it is that he wants. You don’t know what you want, either.

Just as your terror begins to grow, you feel his hand sliding along your hip, erection pressed against your back. You feel sick at the sensation of it. That part of him had destroyed your entire life. And now you would be the one forced to deal with the consequences. The fallout.

You’d been right to be abstinent before. This was his fault. He’d not stopped until he’d buried himself inside your head. Had pushed and pulled, pushed and pulled until you didn’t know where else to run but into his arms.

No. You can’t think like that. He loves you. He’d made some mistakes, but you understood why. Had chosen to forgive him. You loved him, too. And what if you were just getting yourself all worked up over nothing? What if you weren’t indeed pregnant, and causing yourself further stressed just delayed your period further?

Billy presses his lips to your neck, reaching under his t-shirt, which you’re wearing, cupping your breast. “Want me to help you get undressed, honey?”

You bite your lip until you taste blood, fighting back tears. “I’m really tired. Maybe not tonight.” You say it so quietly that he barely hears you.

He presses a soft kiss to the back of your head. “Told you that you should’ve stayed in bed. But no one ever listens to Billy.”

You don’t respond. You just take his hand, wrapping his arm around your waist, praying to God he doesn’t notice that your own is shaking.

You toss and turn most of the night, at one point locking yourself in the bathroom to cry while Billy sleeps, clutching your stomach, praying to God that you’re not what you think you are. If you were, and he did leave you, what would you do? Where would you go? Everything would fall out from under your feet then. You’d have nothing. No one. He was your entire world. Everything. He was everything. Your everything. You’d come to lean so heavily on him. To rely on him at every turn.

If he left you behind… You want to die at the thought.

The next morning, you’re exhausted. And Billy quickly takes notice over breakfast. Which you barely touch.

He brushes his foot against yours, reaching for your hand, concerned with the lost-in-thought look on your face. Were you getting sick again?

“Baby?”

You look up at him. “Hm?”

“You alright, angel?” He reaches up, pressing his palm to your forehead. You don’t feel feverish…

You nod slightly, looking back down to your cereal, which is now just a bowl of mush, stirring it.

“I think you’re still just getting over that cold. I should’ve made you stay in yesterday. How about you go lie back down and get some rest. We’ll just hang out here for the rest of the day. Alright?”

You nod, getting up, stripping, lying back down. You quickly fall asleep.

When you wake, the TV is on, the volume low, and Billy is sitting up, one arm around you, holding you close to his leg. You stare at the closed curtains, wondering what time it is, but don’t want to ask, because you don’t want to talk. Don’t want him to notice that something more is wrong than you just ‘being under the weather’, even if you knew you felt completely back to normal now. You don’t want him to keep digging until you’re finally forced to cave and tell him what’s really going on.

So, you close your eyes instead, forcing yourself back into a dreamless slumber.

Billy had let you sleep through lunch, but he now stands at the foot of the bed, frowning, considering whether to wake you for dinner. He’d gotten you a cheeseburger—one of your favorites—so he’s sure you’ll eat it.

He tucks some hair behind your ear, then gently shakes you awake.

“Dinner’s here, beautiful. Time to get up. Once you’ve eaten, you can go back to bed.”

You moan against the pillow, wishing he’d just left you be. You didn’t want to eat, because the moment you opened your eyes, your stomach was twisting into knots again. But you fight the feeling of nausea down, telling yourself to, at the very least, act fine. Pretend like you feel as much.

You sit up, smiling slightly at him.

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, hiding your face from his view. “Better.”

He sighs. “Good. That’s good.”

He leads you over to the table and you force every bite down.

Billy makes another sexual advance that night, shortly after laying down. He slips his hands between your legs. “I can do all the work tonight, if you want?”

You’d simply pressed yourself into his chest. “Could you just hold me instead? Maybe…maybe tomorrow.”

He’d remained silent as he slid his strong arms around you, holding you close, whispering that he loved you and to get some more rest. That he was sure you’d feel better in the morning.

You do not, in fact, feel better in the morning. More rested than the day previous, yes, but your nerves are fried.

You’d raced to the bathroom to…expel your bowels from nerves at least twice in the night, and now your stomach was truly on empty. But just the thought of eating made you feel sick.

Currently, it’s morning and you’re lying in bed awake, even if you’d rather not be, listening to Billy quietly snore beside you. You sit up, staring down at him, trying to memorize every line and facet of his face. His body.

Before you loose him for good.

Tears sting your eyes at the thought of being alone again. Though, you won’t be totally alone, you suppose. If you are…that…will it look like you or him? Will it have his eyes? His beautiful head of hair? You don’t think you can bear it: having to look upon a perfect reflection—reminder—of him every day, knowing he’s never coming back.

How could you have let this happen? What if you got rid of it instead? Somehow, that thought makes you feel worse. A little bundle that’s equal parts you and him…gone. Just as a tear slips down your cheek, he begins to wake.

You quickly wipe it away, smiling as he opens his eyes, looking up at you, stretching.

He reaches a hand up to your cheek, cupping it. “Morning, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

“You been up long?”

You shake your head. “I just woke up a couple minutes before you did.”

“Admiring your sleeping beauty then, huh?”

You smile at the sarcastic comment. “Most certainly.”

He slides his other hand up your thigh, stopping close to your heat. “You want to?”

You shift under his touch. How to tell him no yet again? You’d not been intimate in days, and you worry that continuing to reject him will only serve to hurt him, if not make him suspicious. But the thought of him buried inside of you right now… You simply can’t.

He notices your silence and his smile fades. “Guess not.” He removes his hand, getting up from bed, nervously running his hand through his hair. “I’m gonna go take a leak,” he says, padding over to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Your chin wobbles, knowing you did it anyway: hurt his feelings.

Billy lays on the horn, waiting for traffic to move. He glances to you then, who is busy staring out your open window. He knows something is wrong. But you won’t tell him what.

He reaches over, sliding his hand up your leg and his ego takes a hit when you recoil at his touch. He sighs, resting his hand back on the shifter. “Come the fuck on, man!” He shouts at the line of cars in front of him.

He then looks back to you. “What? Are you still sick?”

You clasp your hands. “No. I’m just…tired.”

He leans his head back, rolling his eyes. “Heard that a lot the last couple days. Don’t know how. It’s not like we’ve screwed much recently.”

In all honesty, he didn’t really care about that. He was fine with waiting on you. It was the fact you were keeping something from him that was starting to really get under his skin.

You begin to shake from anger then. “After everything, and that’s still all you think about. Not like I should be surprised. Since we met that’s all you’ve thought with is what’s in your pants.”

He jerks his head in your direction. The two of you hadn’t fought like this in a minute. “Excuse me?”

“You want to get laid? We’re in Vegas. Go pick up some hooker on the strip. You should have enough for it after the other night at the casino, I’m sure.”

He grips the wheel tighter. “The fuck is your problem? Huh? You got somethin’ you want to say to me?”

You look at him and his expression softens when he sees the tears gathering in your eyes. “I’m sorry,” you say, voice breaking, burying your head in your hands.

He unbuckles, reaching over, wrapping his arms around your trembling frame. “Shh. Baby, please tell me what the fuck is going on. Did…did I do something?”

How to say yes and no?

You look up at him then, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I’m late.”

His brows furrow. “Late? Late for wha-”

His face falls, all color draining from it and quickly, leaving him lightheaded. He remains calm, as calm as he can manage—for the moment. “How late?” He asks, deathly serious.

“F-five days.”

“And the latest you’ve ever been is?”

“A day. And rarely, at that.”

He stares at you for a moment, then swerves onto the shoulder, parking, and quickly getting out, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck! Motherfuck! Why does this shit keep happening to me? It’s going great one minute, then it all just turns to shit!”

You turn away from the window then, refusing to listen to anymore as you begin to sob, clutching your stomach. You reach forward, toward the dash, now hyperventilating, trying to catch your breath, your ears ringing.

A moment later, Billy gets back in the car, forcing his way back into traffic. “We’re not going to freak out until you’ve taken a piss test and we know for sure.”

Both of you stand in the family-planning aisle of a CVS, staring at their plethora of a selection of pregnancy tests. Billy reaches forward with a shaking hand, grabbing a two-pack in a pink box.

“Should…do you want this one?” He asks, looking at you.

You shrug, lower lip trembling.

He puts it back, grabbing a blue box next. “This one sounds like it should be fairly accurate. Ninety-eight percent.” He tosses it back onto the shelf. “Why the fuck are there so many? What’s the goddamn difference? I mean, Jesus, it’s like buying condoms. I mean, the things are supposed to be fuckin’ fool-proof, right? Why make shit that leaves you guessing in a situation like this? It’s ridiculous.”

You stay quiet, knowing he’s talking more to himself than he is you.

He picks the blue box back up, grabbing your hand in his other, leading you up front to the register.

Billy tosses the test onto the counter and the older woman behind it eyes up the two of you as she scans the box, telling Billy his total.

You just stare at the floor as he pulls out a bill, telling her to keep the change. Then, “You all have a public restroom?”

Billy waits outside the door as you go, silent tears slipping down your cheeks as you place the cap back on the test and set it on the sink, waiting.

It’s maybe two minutes later before his patience has worn through and he pounds on the door, making you jump. “What’s takin’ so long?”

You walk over, cracking the door open, staring up at him. “It takes fifteen minutes.”

His brows raise. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” He barges in, shutting the door behind him. “Why the hell don’t they put that on the goddamn box?”

“They did,” you reply quietly, showing it to him—right on the front. “See?”

He snatches it away from you, staring at it like it’s his own worst enemy, then tossing it in the trash.

He begins to pace back and forth in the small space, hands on his hips. You stand silently against the wall, watching him.

“I can’t believe this is fucking happening. This—coming out here—getting to California. It was supposed to be a new fucking start and now… I’m eighteen-goddamn-years-old. I can’t be a dad yet. I’m not ready. I mean, Jesus, I don’t know that I want kids ever. I can’t stand ‘em now. Annoying little shits. And they’re expensive as hell. Even if you think you’re ready, you’re fuckin’ not. We don’t even have a place to live. What? Am I gonna stick a crib in the fucking backseat of the Camaro? Fuck!”

When he looks at you, his heart drops.

You’re standing against the wall, shaking, tears streaming down your face, biting your lip, both hands clutched over your stomach, your face pale. “I’ll get rid of it,” you whisper.

Then you continue, “Oh God, what’s happening to me? I can’t…I can’t do this alone. What am I supposed to do? How…how am I going to live? What will happen to my baby?” You hang your head, truly sobbing then.

You thought he was going to leave you? Alone? To this?

He steps over, quickly wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry. Baby, I’m right here. Sweetheart, look at me.”

He takes your face in his hands. “Angel, I’m not going anywhere. If you are…it’s not like I didn’t play a part in it. You should know by now that I’m in this for the long haul. That you’re it for me. I know you deserve better than me. You always will. But I’ll try my best, alright? To be a good dad. I had a shitty fuckin’ example, but maybe I can learn from his mistakes. I’ll take care of you.”

He presses a palm to your stomach then. “Both of you. We’ll…we’ll get married. I’ll be better than he was. I have to be. You deserve that.”

You blink up at him, speechless. Had…had he just proposed? “You…want to get married?”

He smiles, kissing your forehead. “It’s the right thing to do. But I’m not getting’ down on one knee, if that’s what you’re expecting. Not in this nasty fuckin’ restroom, anyway.”

You glance to the test. “I think it’s been enough time now.”

You walk over to it and fill with relief—joy—when you see the minus sign. You double over the sink, laughing lightly. All that stress and for nothing. Nothing at all. “Oh, thank God!” You laugh some more, feeling like all is right with the world again. “I’m not pregnant. We don’t have to get married now! We can just-”

You stop talking when you turn around and see Billy isn’t nearly as elated as you are. Not even smiling. Nor is he looking at you. Instead, his hands are gripping the metal support beam behind him, eyes trained on the floor.

“I-”

He quickly brushes past you then, wrenching the door open. “Let’s go.”

Once the two of you have returned to the motel, he still hasn’t spoken another word to you. He’d gone in the bathroom, slamming the door behind him, even going so far as to lock as it while he showered.

You’d pressed your ear up against the door, listening, trying to ensure he was okay, but could hear nothing over the sound of water.

So, you’d sat on the edge of the bed, patiently waiting, thinking of how best to apologize for what you’d said. You’d just been so sure that he would be relieved as well. He’d said it himself: that he wasn’t ready for a baby yet. Then you wonder…had it been your comment about marriage that had upset him?

Was…was he ready for that? Were you? But when you think of it: wearing a ring he’s chosen for you, taking his last name, vowing to spend your life next to him—it doesn’t fill you with fear or doubt or unease. It fills you with love. Joy. A feeling of security.

When Billy emerges quite some time later, he tries to hide it, but you see it: his eyes are bloodshot.

Your heart breaks, now knowing what’d taken him so long.

He had been crying.

You pad over to him, wrapping your arms around his middle as he chooses a t-shirt for bed. He doesn’t do that, though—wear pajamas to lie down next to you. And now he suddenly feels the need to shield himself from you?

You press your cheek to his bare back. “Did you mean what you said about getting mar-”

“Just fuckin’ drop it, alright? You’re not knocked up, so now we don’t have to get hitched. Let’s just go to bed.”

“But-”

“Like you’d want to anyway.”

“I do.”

He freezes. Suddenly imagining you saying those words in a different context. He slowly turns back around to you. “What?”

You stand on tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his damp curls. “I want to if you do.”

He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “Really?”

You smile, nodding. “I’m sorry for what I said. I wasn’t thinking. I was just relieved that I wasn’t pregnant. I…I’m already yours in every other way. Why not this one, too? Billy, no one else is ever going to love me the way you have—do. Just like you, I don’t want anyone else. You’re what I want. I can’t imagine having to start over with someone else after…after all of this. The thought of losing you…it was tearing me apart. Having to think of living a life without you in it…”

You trail off for a moment, swallowing the lump that’s forming in your throat. “I’ll marry you.”

His lip twitches and his eyes grow glassy. He then crushes you to his chest, holding you close, cradling the back of your head. “Okay.”

You and Billy are currently browsing through selections of gently-used clothing at a local thrift store, trying to pick out outfits to wear to the Little White Chapel. But every white dress you come across has something wrong with it: holes, tears, rips, yellowing, or it’s just a tad outdated or way too frilly.

Until you find a hanger buried behind numerous other items. As you look the dress over, you begin to smile.

You then wander over to Billy, who’s looking through men’s dress clothes and poke him in the back.

When he turns, a grin forms on his face. He grips the soft material, looking to you. A white babydoll dress, silver sparkles dancing against the overhead fluorescent lights. There’s even a matching veil.

“It kind of smells like mothballs,” you say.

He smirks. “Don’t worry, baby, you won’t be wearing it long.”

Once Billy had picked out a pair of dress slacks that he felt were a tad too tight—until you’d been unable to remove your eyes from his rear, and then he’d said they fit just perfect after all—as well as a white button-up shirt, he’d gone over to the lingerie and gotten lucky when he’d found you a garter.

The two of you then went up and you stood by his side, smiling up at him, as he paid for your purchases, then asked about changing in-store.

Once the two of you emerged from the changing rooms, even he was blushing. So, you’d taken his hand in yours, and headed back out to the car together.

“Can we stop at a pawn shop first?”

He glances to you. “For?”

You reach in the backseat, grabbing a shoulder bag, then pulling your dad’s Rolex out. “I want to trade this. For a ring. For you.”

He nods then, sniffling. “Course, baby.”

“What about that one?”

Billy shakes his head. “It’s fuckin’ hideous.”

You raise a brow. He was worse than a woman when it came to jewelry, apparently.

You squint, looking into the late-night pawn shop’s display case, then kneeling in front of it, practically pressing your face up against the glass. You smile, pointing, looking up to the middle-aged shop-keep behind it. “Can I see that one?”

He nods, unlocking the display from his side, grabbing the ring you’d indicated, handing it to you.

You grab Billy’s left hand, sliding it onto his ring finger. And it’s a perfect fit. A simple gold band.

You stare up at him.

He looks to the man. “Will the Rolex cover this?”

“More than.”

Billy looks back to you. “We’ll take it.”

Once the two of you are sitting in the parking lot of the small chapel, it’s only then that you notice Billy is shaking.

You reach toward him, but he quickly exits the car, making his way around to your side, opening your door.

He doesn’t look at you.

You brush your thumb over his lips, quieting him. “And I always came back. Or you came for me. Billy, neither of us is perfect. No one alive is. But…that’s the point, right? Of falling in love? Loving someone despite their flaws. Or…helping them through them. Not just giving up when things get hard. I know what—who—I want. We’ve both said it: that we belong together.” You press yourself against his chest and he wraps his arms around you, kissing the crown of your head. “So let’s go make it official. No one is ever going to love me like you do.”

You then reach up, cupping his cheek, taking one of his hands in yours. “Are you okay? We…we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. If you want to wait, I’m okay with that. As long as we’re together- ”

He shakes his head, his hand trembling in yours. “What if…what if I fuck this up? I’ve already done it enough times already. I nearly lost you back in Oklahoma and then again in Texas. What if I turn out to be just like him and I hurt you, or-”

He rests his cheek against your veil. “Okay.”

You pull back, looking up at him with hopeful eyes, full of love.

“Let’s go get married.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“And do you, Billy Hargrove, take this little lady to be your lawfully wedded bride? To have and hold tender and sweet, to love and cherish, in sickness and in health, for riches—God willin’—or poorer, for better or worse, ‘till death do ya part?”

Being married by an Elvis impersonator was most-certainly going to be a story to remember.

Billy tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, his thumb tracing your jaw line, his other hand holding your right one. “I do.”

He reaches into his pocket, and when he pulls out his hand, a silver ring is held between his thumb and index finger.

Your brows furrow. He’d told you back at the pawn shop that he had your ring already covered, but refused to elaborate on how, until you were standing before one another exchanging vows.

He swallows thickly. “It was my mom’s,” he states, glancing to you, before sliding it onto your finger.

Unshed tears threaten to spill forth on both your parts.

“And do you, lil’ mama—Y/N—take this young stud, to be your hubby? To have and hold tender and sweet, to love and cherish, in sickness and in health, for riches or poorer, for better or worse, ‘till death do ya part?”

Your lip trembles as you stare up, into Billy’s beautiful, warm eyes. “I do.”

You slide the gold band you’d purchased less than half-an-hour ago onto his finger once again.

“Then, by the power vested in me by the great state of Nevada and the Lord Almighty, I do so pronounce you husband and bride. Now, my good man, kiss your lady.”

Billy leans down, cupping the back of your head, and crushing his lips to yours.

A woman who also works at the chapel snaps a few pictures of the two of you kissing, holding one another, and beaming up at each other and at the cheap disposable camera she holds in her hands.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

After the two of you exited the chapel holding hands, laughing, even crying a little, you’d gotten back into the car and Billy had driven you to a bar, insisting on having some form of a reception, even if it was just the two of you. In reality, he deeply wanted to have his first dance with you.

You stand in the middle of the room—the place near-empty; it was a tad dingy and small—waiting for Billy to select a song from the jukebox over in the corner. You know he’s found whatever he’s looking for when a small smile comes across his lips.

He comes back over to you, taking one of your hands in his, leaning his forehead down against yours just as Bob Dylan begins to hum the beginning of Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door, resting his other hand against the small of your back, pulling you in close.

You close your eyes, reaching up, tangling the fingers of your other hand in his hair, swaying back and forth with him to the slow song.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You open your eyes, tears slipping down your flushed cheeks as you press your lips to his own. “I love you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When the two of you return to the motel, Billy leaves the door to the room open, blaring the song Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey from the car’s stereo outside, tugging you up on the bed with him and the two of you begin to jump up and down on the mattress, holding onto one another, smiling, laughing, happier than either of you ever thought you could be. Would ever be.

He crushes his lips to yours, holding your face in his hands. He pulls back. “Promise me that you’re mine for forever.”

You wrap your arms around his neck. “Forever.”

#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader) #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

[notchainedtotrauma]

On The Subject Of Bots: A Former Bot Farm Operator Speaks On The Process (Also spread this video all over this website. I mean it. Spread it. For a whole set of reasons-one of them being antiblackness)

ID [ Close up of a woman in a car wearing a green shirt. She has a dark brown ponytail. She says: 'I'm a a former tech employee that created and sustained a bot farm between 2015 and 2018 in California USA.

Wanna give you guys some information because American bot farm operators are pretty rare. Most bot farms operate oversea. I don't know if there's anyone like me in the US that can tell you this stuff is what I'm saying.

I'm typically way secretive about this but it's gotten so bad I need to talk about it

So what is a bot farm ? Something that an individual or a company purchases. You get a set amount of bots that look like normal people, go out, and spread your message. And here's the work that goes ino that:

I as a operator have to create each individual fake person. I have to create a bio. I have to create a username, a real name, then I have to generate content that has to be supportive of the message the client is paying for.

Positive opinion of the company or the individual. If anyone has ever tried to create content (you know that) that takes time and also that takes ideas; it's not easy.

Finally you need to program these bots based on activity. Bots respond to what you do.

You think that you going around and liking things is invisible. It's not. You're leaving a footprint across the app. That footprint is tracked by people like me. So based on what other people like or comment on, I program my bot to go and search for those people, find them, and then interact with them with my content that supports the message that I created.

This programming also includes research to find the people that are the most susceptible to believing the message that you're selling, and targeting those people. This is just a scratch on the surface of what it takes to program one of these. And people are buying hundreds of them.

Now here's the interesting part. The software to run all these bots is not free. And the time that it takes to create all the things that I just told you about also not free. All of this stuff costs money.

And it represents money when you see it. If you're seeing non stop videos posted with a certain agenda, someone's paying for that. So when you see a dump/ a ton of media that's telling you all the same message, do not say wow what a thing happening right now.

Please instead say wow who's trying to buy my opinion on this topic ?

End of the video ] End of ID

#we seize horror as we bow

[alotofpockets]

Traitor | Reneé Rapp x Singer!Reader

Where your girlfriend does nothing to shut down rumours about her dating Towa Bird

Reneé Rapp Masterlist | Words: 1.4k

-----

Going on tour at the same time as your girlfriend had seemed like a great idea in the beginning. Instead of each of you being away 6 months after each other, you'd spend approximately the same 6 months away, and would be reunited after.

However, that also meant you saw very little of each other. You tried to facetime and call as often as you could, but since you had pretty similar fanbases to Reneé, your team had decided it would be best for you to do your tour backwards, starting on the other side of the world.

One thing you loved about social media, was that people loved to share their concert clips everywhere. This way you were able to see parts of Reneé's tour even while being on the other side of the world. 

Amongst the many tiktoks of her performing, were a fair few edits of fans shipping your girlfriend with Towa Bird, her support act. You didn't blame the fans for shipping them, your relationship with Reneé was private, the fans and the media weren't aware that the two of you were together. It didn't affect you much at first, just two friends who enjoyed performing on stage together.

That changed when Reneé was doing quite the opposite of shutting down the rumours. She now added a moment in the song where she and Towa would both get on their knees and play a little too close for your liking. As well as Reneé posting about it, clearly giving the fans what they wanted.

-----

reneerapp just posted

reneerapp: These are no longer Reneé Rapp concerts, they're Towa Bird concerts now

-----

You're worried that there might be something going on between them, but you trust Reneé so you shook it off. 

As the weeks go by, you see less and less of your girlfriend. The one time you finally seemed to have some time together, Towa swooped in to ask Reneé to go for pizza. You thought Reneé would decline because you had barely seen each other all week, and she had Towa with her the whole tour, but you were wrong. “I gotta go. I'll talk to you later?” You nod, afraid your emotions would show in your voice. You were hurt that your girlfriend didn't seem to care much about spending time with you. 

With you being about halfway through your tour, you were closer to where Reneé was performing, so you decided to go to one of her shows to figure out what you should think of all of this. With a few nights off yourself, you flew over without telling your girlfriend.

You stood in the back of the crowd, hoping to not get noticed too much. Which of course a couple people did, you posed with a few for pictures before you put on a hat and blended into the crowd. 

Your heart broke seeing Reneé openly flirt with Towa on stage. The unnecessary touches and closeness was too much for you, so you retreated into the stadium. Finding Reneé's manager, you convince her to let you into Reneé's dressing room to "surprise” her. 

While Reneé was still out performing, you had plenty of time to think, and know what you wanted to say when Reneé would get to her dressing room. Still the moment she walked through the door, you forgot what you wanted to say for a moment as she enthusiastically ran over to you.

Before she was able to wrap her arms around you, you set a step back and put your hand out in front of you. “We need to talk.” A look of confusion took over her face. “Oh, is everything okay?” You let out a frustrated sigh, “No, everything is not okay.” Before you could continue your train of thought was interrupted by none other than Towa Bird herself to walk through the door. 

“Oh, hey, sorry am I interrupting something?” You look at Reneé expectantly, but when she doesn’t respond with no, it really is over for you. “You know what, no you aren’t.” Then you turn to Reneé. “I am done.” You try to storm out of the room, but Reneé grabs your arm, “Hold on. Please talk to me, what’s going on?” 

You pull your arm away from her hold on it, your eyes a mix of sadness and anger. “What’s going on, really? Do you not see what is right in front of you?” Reneé furrows her brow, “What are you talking about?”

“I am talking about the way you have been treating me. We’ve barely had a minute together, and each moment we have you cut short to hang out with Towa. You are flaunting whatever this is with Towa to the fans, and did not stop the rumours at any point. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?” 

Your words hit Reneé hard, but the only words she can find are. “I didn’t cheat on you.” A tear escaped and rolled down your cheek, “I don’t even care if that is true or not, you let the fans believe that something was going on between you and Towa and from the moment the fans noticed, you have done nothing but try to prove their points. Maybe you didn’t cheat, but you’re still a traitor.” 

Reneé steps towards you, hoping to close the distance you kept creating. “It’s not like that, I swear. The on-stage stuff it’s just a performance, Towa and I are just friends.” You shake your head. “So, you just didn’t care about my feelings, publicity was what was important. Thank you for making that clear. We are over Reneé.” You look between them while slowly nodding your head. “Well, I’ve got a plane to catch.” This time Reneé didn’t try to stop you from leaving the room.

You went right back to your tour, it was a nice distraction being surrounded by thousands of people that loved you, every single night. Tiktok was a funny place while trying to move past everything that happened, because the algorithm thought you would still like to see Reneé perform every night. 

Like your whole conversation before the breakup didn’t happen, Reneé and Towa were still acting the same way on stage. Usually you scrolled right past them, hoping that your algorithm would understand that you were no longer interested, but the current video caught your attention. Two weeks after your breakup, Reneé was kissing Towa on stage. 

The anger began to boil inside you once more, so you turned to what helped you most in managing your emotions: you picked up your guitar and started writing a new song.

Usually you wouldn’t play new songs while you hadn’t recorded them, but your feelings were currently too big, and you needed to scream them into a room full of people. So, that night you decide to play it on stage. 

What you didn’t know was that Reneé had come to your show that night. Just like you she was standing in the back of the room, trying to blend in with the crowd. She was there to try and win you back, to apologise and tell you it was all a big mistake on her end. But then you started singing your new song.

When the chorus hit, she knew that nothing she would have to say after the show would matter. The chorus, the part of the song you so desperately needed to scream into the crowd. 

You betrayed me

And I know that you'll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt, yeah

Your fingers fly over your guitar, each note you play intentional and filled with raw emotions. 

You'd talk to her

When we were together

Loved you at your worst

But that didn't matter

When you look into the crowd you spot her for the first time that night, because the door to the concert hall opens and lets in a streak of light. You sing the final words of the song as you walk her leave. 

It took you two weeks

To go off and date her

Guess you didn't cheat

But you're still a traitor

The crowd loved the new song, though you weren’t able to take much of it in, as your eyes were still focussed on the concert hall door that was now closed. The moment starts to sink in when you finally hear the crowd cheering, you manage a smile onto your face and thank the crowd. The door closing seemed like a metaphor for closing a chapter, and with having screamed your feelings into the crowd, you somehow felt lighter.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

#renee rapp #renee rapp x reader #renee rapp imagine #towa bird

[hobiespick]

Sam Winchester x reader headcanons

a/n: if you thought I only made shitty Sam headcanons, WRONG‼️ cuz I also made a shitty moodboard (i'm extra like that yeehaw)

- Takes notice of the books you read, that is if you don't give him recomendations bc if you do that boy has a whole ass notepad and is a fast writter so try him.

- "Y/n would like this" "Y/n would probably know" "Y/n was right"- Dean gets seriously tired and makes jokes about how often Sam talks about you

- you think he's joking untill Sam isn't glaring daggers at him- but instead he starts blushing and straching the back of his head like a damn schoolboy.

- reads your body language very well- "What's wrong?" Sam asks putting all of his attention onto you. "Nothing" You shrug it off (you're not slick at all). "Bull." Sam chides still looking at you hoping you'll tell him.

-literally the happiest when you sigh defeated and tell him what's wrong but shakes it off to actually listen to you.

- uses the soft tone he talks to victims with on you- not because he thinks you're weak or fragile

- you're a badass and he knows it

- you complimented him once on it (his voice) saying he is good at comforting and how no wonder people open up that easily when he talks like THAT to them.

- "Miss, when was your neighbour killed?" All puppy eyes furrowed eyebrows and soft tone almost sticking his chin to his chest + that fake ass FBI badge, You: "Yes-"

- Sam probably met Jess through the art courses he took I'm sobbing-

- I watched that episode and I had no idea (I'm so happy google exists) what he was talking about and I'm damn art student jesus christ

- "It's good for meeting girls." So good- SHHSAJGSS I'M FOAMING AT THE MOUTH SAM PLEASE

- Artsy Sam save me, Please Artsy Sam

- So touch starved, hug this man PLEASE

- If you're an artist yourself and draw, sketch, paint whatever, he'll want to see it

- even teach him some stuff, LAWD

- researches stuff abt you when he can't get you out of his head- for example : the meaning of your name, your zodiac sign, which celebrity you share your bday with, etc (he can't help it)

- reads banned literature (isn't he's so dreamy? 💞)

- his favourite movie is the notebook or pride and prejudice (and book!) because I said so

- Unconciously mirros your movements or tics, for example if you rub your nose with your wrist, he starts doing it too (it's contagious)

- Dean points it out but Sam wasn't raised to be fair so he justifies himself by saying he had that tic first and YOU are the one who started mimmicking him

- it's an ongoing war for some time but beacuse the system's corrupt the bastard lawboy Sam wins

- you two share an interest? HE IS SO HAPPY

- oh no! His t shirt accidentally made it's way into your bag! How did that happen? (It's him officer, that is the loverboy take him away)

- Alexa/google play good old fashioned loverboy by queen

- really likes earthy smells (freshly cut grass, pine trees and so on)

- Dean when he says your instead of you're

- love language is definetly quality time and touch

a/n: it took alot of self encouragement to post this so feedback would be very much appreciated<3! And for every person who voted "YEAHHH" on the poll, I hope your pillow is cold tonight 💞🫶

#sam winchester x reader #spn #spnfandom

[cloudrumble23]

Puppet girl wanted her to get to know the other ghosts in the pizzeria. To help her "adjust." To prevent corruption from taking over her soul.

Well fine. Cassidy could do that, even feeling the rage boiling under her skin as she considered the thought of anything other than plotting her revenge on their killer. Did the puppet even care? Probably not.

Still, Cassidy could handle it. She could make friends with that quiet kid who never left the suit. Puppet girl hadn't even had a chance to have a conversation with him yet since she was too busy babysitting everybody else to prevent them from corrupting.

The golden suit was crammed far back in the corner anyway. Nobody really seemed to acknowledge it, and Cassidy knew that the puppet girl only knew about it because she'd put Cassidy's soul there. Unintentional companionship, Cassidy thought to herself, squatting down in front of the suit to examine the eyes.

Sometimes there was a faint pinprick of light when she did this. Other times, there wasn't hardly anything to spot. Today was a bad day. She squinted intently, trying to make out the spot of light that she knew was there constantly, but there was no sign.

Resigning herself to actually talking to this kid was maybe not a good idea. He was hard enough to communicate with on a good day, and today was definitely not one of those. Still, Cassidy dove straight into the suit, knowing she'd have to go deep to find the quiet kid who shared the suit with her.

"Are you down here?" Cassidy called, looking around the eerily red space. "Hello?"

She heard a faint sob in response and hurried over to it, seeing him curled up in a ball on the weirdly colored grass.

"Okay," Cassidy sighed, pulling him upright. "What's the deal?"

The boy had his face buried in his hands still, something that continually frustrated Cassidy. They'd encountered each other briefly before, and he never tended to speak. She knew there was the lingering mark of death on his face, a flag of red spilling down an otherwise monochrome appearance.

In life, Cassidy might've even said he was cute, but she didn't have time for such things anymore.

Her fingers looped around his wrists as she adjusted herself to sit in front of him. "Look, I'm not typically the pushy type, but you're the person I know best out of anybody here, and I'm supposed to be making friends so that I don't get corrupted or whatever. Which means you gotta deal with me."

He didn't respond, even as she managed to peel his hands away from his face, revealing thick, oily tears that spilled all the way down his face and coated his hands. Corruption, Cassidy thought suddenly, a chill running through her.

"Okay..." Cassidy exhaled slowly as he peered at her through his eyelashes, briefly distracted from his emotional turmoil.

She swiped at the substance, hoping it was easy to remove, but she ended up smearing it across his face more. "Umm, oops?"

He only blinked at her, seemingly unbothered by the mess.

"Look, I gotta be honest here. This is way out of my range of knowing what I'm doing. And uh... puppet girl says corruption is bad." Cassidy gestured at their hands, coated in corrupted something or other. "And this stuff looks like corruption."

"Oh," the boy answered softly. He glanced at his hands and then at hers. "I'm sorry."

"What? No, you don't need to apologize. We just need to-" Cassidy took a deep breath, something she wished was still helpful. "Okay, why were you crying?"

The boy's mouth thinned, trembling slightly.

"Never mind," Cassidy said quickly. "Could you tell me your name?"

"I... I guess..." he replied, shifting uncomfortably. "I'm... Evan..."

"Okay, Evan." Cassidy tried to smile at him. "I'm Cassidy. I possess Golden Freddy."

"That's not his name," Evan said immediately, his mouth turning down in a frown. Something flickered in his eyes, a memory of some kind. "His name is Fredbear."

"Uh huh." Cassidy didn't know what to make of that. She really did need to talk to the others, didn't she? Clearly, there were many things she didn't know. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that. I just kinda gave him a nickname, I guess."

"It's alright." Evan clasped his hands together in his lap. "That's a lot of blood."

"Oh, yeah..." Cassidy looked down at her torso, still unimpressed with the fact that the bloodstains had carried through with her death. "It's a symptom of death, I guess."

"Do I... Do I have one of those?" Evan asked, his mouth creasing in worry. "Is it on my face?" His voice seemed to get higher with every realization.

"I-" Cassidy didn't know how to respond as he crumbled into tears again. "Yes? I mean, we all have those. It's okay, don't cry."

Her reassurance didn't seem to get through to him.

"Hey," Cassidy pulled him into an awkward hug, making him tumble half into her lap. "It's not a big deal. Even puppet girl has some bloody marks on her face too. And her neck."

Evan hiccuped. "Really?"

"Yeah, it's something we all deal with. I mean, it still sucks because that's so invasive to just know how other people died, but-"

"At least we're all in it together?" Evan asked, the tears spilling from his eyes no longer dark and inky.

"Yeah." Cassidy tried to smile at him. "We've still all got some stuff we can keep private though, like what we were like when we were alive, but as far as dying and our killer go, we got stuff in common."

"Our killer?" Evan seemed horrified. "He killed other people? Besides me?"

"Yeah? He killed all of us," Cassidy's mouth twitched. "Did you not assume that?"

"I thought it was an accident. He said he was sorry and that it was an accident," Evan started muttering to himself, hyperventilating.

"Okay, I think you need to calm down a little bit-"

"Calm down? We're dead because of him!" Evan's eyes flashed, and the hysteria in his voice increasing as he spoke. "He lied to me!"

The black inky substance was leaking from his eyes again.

"Evan, we all had that feeling of hopelessness that you're feeling right now, and I know it hurts, but please. You'll be corrupted if you don't calm down!" Cassidy felt pressure rising behind her own eyes as she spoke. The threat seemed much more likely now that she was witnessing it happen.

Evan shuddered in her arms as she tried yet again to wipe away the tears. "I'm so bad at this," she said to herself as she continued to make it worse.

"Join the club," Evan whispered, gripping his elbows with what would've been bruising force in life. "I can't ever seem to get anything right, either."

"It looks like I made a finger painting on your face," Cassidy admitted, wrinkling her nose.

Evan huffed out a small laugh. "Probably an improvement to how I looked before."

"Nah, I think you're cute, but I made it worse." Cassidy scoffed.

Evan froze. "You... what?"

"I made it worse?" Cassidy answered with a questioning tone. "Like, I made you cry a bunch, and then I smeared it all over."

"Oh, right. Yeah, that makes sense." Evan shook himself out of something.

"Did you always used to cry this much?" Cassidy asked, suddenly curious. She'd never heard him talk so much, and he was going to probably never do this again.

"Always," Evan said regretfully. "My family hated it. Mikey and Lizzie said I was the crybaby of the family, and they were right. It was so stupid. Mikey told me to 'man up' all the time and be a better older brother to Lizzie, but I just..."

"Your brother sounds like a jerk," Cassidy said.

"He's worse than a jerk, since he killed all of us," Evan huffed, peering up at Cassidy's face.

"Wait, what?" Cassidy frowned, suddenly confused. "Jeez, how long ago did you die?"

"Like... four years ago?" Evan answered, sitting up.

"But..." Cassidy was even more confused. "You seem too young to have died so recently. Like, your brother is a full-grown adult."

"No he isn't." Evan's face wrinkled up. "He was only fourteen when I died, so he wouldn't be older than eighteen right now."

"That makes no sense." Cassidy replied, shaking her head. "I died two years ago, and he killed me while wearing that stupid yellow bunny suit."

"Rabbit suit?" Evan echoed. "No, that wouldn't be Mikey. Mikey hated Spring Bonnie. Father kept trying to convince him to have more interest in the animatronics, but Mikey only cared about Foxy."

"Then..." Cassidy's throat tightened. "We weren't killed by the same person. We couldn't have been, not if you were killed by your brother."

"You were killed by my father," Evan told her, his face twisted in a different kind of sorrow.

He's trying to tell me without making me cry, Cassidy realized. How could anyone end his life like that? Evan was too sweet for his own good, and clearly some people hadn't appreciated him the way they should have.

"How do you know that?"

"He never let anyone else wear that suit, Cassidy. Not unless something changed after I died."

"Oh..." Cassidy didn't know how to feel about that. "So, your brother killed you, huh?"

"It was an accident." Evan stood up. "I don't..."

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Cassidy said quickly. "I was just curious."

Cassidy stood up and glanced around a bit. "Do you ever wonder why everything down here is red?"

"Sometimes," Evan shrugged. "I don't see anything in any other color anyway."

"You... don't?"

"No."

"Have you ever left the suit?" Cassidy asked. "I only ever see you down here."

"I didn't know I could leave." Evan blinked at her.

"Come with me." Cassidy said suddenly. "You have actually been living under a rock, for real. Come see where we are."

"Oh. Okay..." Evan reluctantly followed Cassidy as she made her way out of the suit and back into the real world.

"So, this is Parts and Service." Cassidy gestured at the grungy room filled with broken animatronics.

"Who is this?" Evan asked softly, having walked away from Fredbear to trace a line down Foxy's snout.

"That's Foxy," Cassidy answered, coming to stand by his side. "Fritz doesn't tend to hang out around the suit much, not during the day anyway."

"Wow," Evan said, his voice wavering. "They actually made them all into animatronics?"

"Yeah, there's Freddy, and Foxy, and Bonnie, and Chica. They're a bit rusted out, and now they're just used for parts, but..." Cassidy shrugged. "I mean, the kids go around and have fun during the day, pretending to still be alive."

"You say that like you don't," Evan turned to her, clear tears running down his face. Does he ever stop crying? Cassidy wondered.

"I don't tend to join in. I'm a bit too aggressive for the things they like to do."

"What do you like to do, then?" Evan asked, his hand still resting gently on Foxy's head.

"I don't know. I just don't feel like playing anymore. I don't feel like pretending to be alive when I know we were all murdered, you know?"

"I guess..." Evan blinked. "What if you could help kids who were still alive?"

"Help how?"

"I don't know. Cheer them up when they're down or something, I guess. Like you did with me."

"I wouldn't say I cheered you up," Cassidy scoffed. "You're still crying."

"These are good tears," Evan replied.

"Well, I don't think that would work, in any case. Nobody can see or hear us."

"They can't?" Evan sounded disappointed. "Well, that's..."

"They can see the suits moving, at least," Cassidy offered. "It's just that you can't really communicate, and I've only ever used the suits to scare the security guards."

Evan stroked the fake fur on Foxy's head, not seeming to really be listening anymore. His shoulders drooped and the tears were darkening again.

"Hey, what's up?" Cassidy asked, finding herself reaching for Evan's face yet again to clear up the corrupted tears.

"It's nothing."

"Clearly that's not true," Cassidy pointed out, holding her inky hand in front of Evan's face. "Tell me what's going on."

"I want to see my family again. I guess I was just hoping that I could tell my brother that I forgive him and miss him and-" Evan cut himself off with another sob. "It's stupid."

"It's not stupid," Cassidy replied stubbornly. "I bet we can find a way."

"What if he doesn't even come here, Cassidy? What if he-"

"Foxy's his favorite, you said, right? Well, if that's true, we need to find a way to get him back in commission so your brother comes back. And then we can try to find a way to get communication between you two again."

"Why are you helping me?" Evan asked. He looked so silly with his face all squished like this, but Cassidy couldn't help it.

"Because I'd like to do something good for once," Cassidy whispered. "And I think it'd be nice to see you smile."

"Oh," Evan answered as Cassidy stretched his cheeks up to force his mouth into a makeshift smile. "Hey, stop it!"

Cassidy laughed. "Make me."

Evan swatted at her hand, a short huff of laughter escaping his mouth. "I can't!"

"Then you're stuck! Oh no, how terrible it is to smile again!" Cassidy grinned in his face, finally relenting in time to see him naturally smiling.

He giggled. "You're ridiculous, Cassidy."

And you're adorable, Cassidy thought fondly, surprised by the sudden protective urge that washed over her. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I dunno. Depends on if you're ticklish or not," Evan replied, the silver of his eyes gleaming menacingly as he dug his fingers into his sides.

Cassidy gasped, surprised that the same jolt of nerves she'd always felt when she was alive was still possible as a ghost. "Hey!" She laughed, even as she crumpled forward, tucked into Evan's shirt as she continued to struggle.

"You want to know the best part about this?" Evan asked, grinning down at her. "I don't even have to stop."

He was right, Cassidy realized. She was laughing so hard she couldn't draw breath, but since they were dead, it didn't make a difference. It's crazy how much joy there still is, even after dying, she thought, still struggling to squirm free.

Maybe the puppet girl had been right after all. Cassidy just needed to make some friends.

Or a friend, she thought looking up at the laughing boy who shared the suit with her.

There was still joy after death.

Especially with Evan around.

Thank you to @pixlokita for this adorable piece of fanart for this, by the way!

#cloud writes #I've returned! #evan afton #fnaf cassidy #golden duo #cc fnaf #and of course #thank you to Pix for this precious piece of art!

[sulfies]

How mad do you think the ancestors would get if they started getting frisky with Desmond and he started bleeding one of the others!

Like if Altaïr just got Desmond's shirt off but now Desmond's eyes are gold and he has Ezio's fucking grin

How do you think they would react to this? Would they be jealous or interested? Anyway hope you're having a good day!

Ur mind is so huge🫣 thats such a good idea ughhh

While their main bae is Desmond They also are into eachother so they would fuck but they just like being w Desmond mainly, and getting to be with the others is like a nice bonus. So they do all date eachother but If Desmond wasnt into and ok w it they wouldnt care about becoming more that close friends idk if that makes sense. So non of them would ever get a bad reaction to a bleed of another but they prob would stop the first time just to make sure Desmond's ok with it as well outside of a bleed. (ı need to make a relationship chart lmao)

Altair

Altaïr would be into it 100% prob would have fun with it tricking Ezio!bleed into it being a dream just to get more reactions or teasing him a lot like "what would people say, Mentoré having a wet dream about the brotherhoods greatest"

Connor!bleed would get him going too because seeing Desmond be more shy ,be impressed when Altaïr throws him around bc he isnt actually built like Connor would be fun. Basically he would enjoy Connor!bleed acting less experianced, blushing like crazy, hiding his face since Altaïr gets to pull old tricks he knows Desmond likes and see different reactions as if its the first time

I think with Altaïr!Bleed would be the only one to make him jelous and feel weird just bc he knows how annoying/smug he can be lol and both would fight a bit on who does what or if they even do anything till probobly Bleed!Altaïr would go "try everything once" lol I can see Bleed!Altaïr even maybe not letting Altaïr touch as he talks like "sucks to be you I get to be in Desmonds Skin feel everything he feels"

Ezio

Altaïr!bleed gets him going also and he likes bickering with a more smug Desmond who is meaner to him and ofc roughhousing. He would def talk about it to Altaïr to annoy him "do you also react that way when I do-"

Connor!Bleed again he is very into a silent, more threathening but shy Desmond that he has to put more work into. Probobly the eye contact 👁️👁️ Connor!bleed does gets to him a lot and effects him more than he lets on. He also enjoys imagining how Connor would look if he did the same lol. He would also Enjoy Connor!bleed forgetting Desmonds actual strenght and tryng to pull his hands to hide his face only for them to not move under Ezio

Ezio!Bleed he is 1000% into it and has the most fun lmaoo not even a question. they just both look at eachother in "oh this is going to be fun~" and the whole hideout has to wear earplugs

Connor

Connor probobly would be the most hesitant and vary of em all, the bleeds would have to make the first move or convince.

Altaïr!bleed scares him in a good way lol, kinda takes the pressure away from him and he enjoys how much more outspoken Des is "do that, dont do this" and he also does enjoy the teasing he gets a bit.

Ezio!bleed would make him blush like crazy and prob he would hide his face 90% of the time bc of the dirtytalk if Ezio let him (he doesnt ofc)

Connor!bleed... I think Connor would be weirded out and would take a few times of it happening for him and the bleed to even be like "lets try if we like it" maybe outside the bleed Desmond has to go "go have fun, If you cant trust yourself who else"

Once both got over their shyness Connor would prob learn a lot about himself lmaoo and maybe is like "maybe I should be more vocal during it hmm" or just enjoy a more silent quiet relaxed fun? But tbh probobly most of the time Connor would just turn it into a cuddling and small touches session.

#tbh connor prob 70% time doesnt take it further just bc he doesnt rlly enjoy his own dynamic in bed lol #two shy bitches dont work well #assassin's creed #desmond miles #ezio auditore #asks #altaïr ibn la'ahad #connor kenway #ratonhnhaké:ton #heavy bleed effect au

[ninikrumbs]

I wanna ruin our friendship

Summary: Sudden feelings for your blue eyed bestfriend makes it difficult to be around him. But apparently he thinks its difficult not be you around either.

Tags: satorugojo x fem reader, tooth rotting fluff, pining (satoru), ft megumi, yuji, and nobara.

AN: This is how I cope. :')

-------------------------------------

"Oh no." Your eyes widened at your realization, hand immediately gripping your chest as if trying to stop all your feelings from overflowing.

Oceans eyes that somehow held galaxies in them looked back at you. They were bright and full of undeniable contentment that took everything in you not to spill the words that were trying to come out, "Say somethin?

You lips opened to say something before deciding against it and shaking your head. "mm, its nothing."

His warm hand squeezed yours as he continued leading you through the crowded train station of Shibuya. "Stay close."

Holdings hands was his idea. So you wouldn't lose each other he said with that cocky grin. Ignoring the fact that he could just teleport the both of you anywhere.

It was the same hand that held yours right now that sent tingles through your arm and straight to your heart. So here you were gripping your chest for dear life as the realization dawned on you. The feelings so overwhelming that unshed tears lined your eyes.

You were in love with Satoru Gojo.

And it terrified you.

------

This was getting ridiculous, Gojo thought. Its been almost two weeks. Two weeks of no proper communication, no impromptu hang outs, no movie nights, no you and It was driving him insane.

Answering him with a simple "Im busy. Sorry." to every attempt he did at getting you to see him but to ko avail. He could barely function during long term missions without you. And now you're deliberately choosing not to see him for some reason he cannot -for the life of him- fanthom. He was called all seeing with his six eyes but that clearly some kind of false advertisement.

He groaned outloud and began banging his head on the table. Hands itching to pull his hair out in frustration.

A jovial voice pulled him out of his reverie. "Is something wrong, Gojo-sensei?"

Oh. Right. He was in the middle of class when thoughts of you began to plague his mind. But when were you really not on his mind?

An aloof Megumi, a bored Nobara and a curious Yuji met his gaze.

"Its nothing. Its nothing." He says, waving it off with a grin.

He heard the sound of a chair being dragged as Nobara stood up. "Is class done? I promised Utahime and Y/N that I'd meet them after class."

The sound of your name made his ears perk. "Oooh, where are ya meeting them?"

"Why do y'wanna know?" Nobara looks at him suspiciously.

He leans back on his chair whistling nonchalantly, blindfold making him hard to read. "Oh no reason."

"Whatever."

She missed the way Gojo grinned evilly, cackling to himself like some evil mastermind when she left. Completely forgetting about Megumi and Yuji still in the classroom looking at him weirdly.

---------

"Hmmph."

The audacity you had to sit there in some stupid café next to Utahime and look so damn pretty was irritating.

How dare you smile at Nobara without a care in the world? As if Gojo's world wasn't ending. You should be smiling at him! At him!

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. If anyone could see the Gojo -honored one- Satoru basically stalking you from the other side of the street, he would be a laughing stock.

Still, after two weeks of not seeing you, he felt a tinge of relief in his chest that you look healthy. That you weren't dying or anything.

Yes, Gojo would not take any other reason than you dying for your avoidance of him. Thats why it irritated him even more, that you didn't want to see him. But if he was being honest , he was less irritated and more sad.

Enough was enough. He wanted, no needed to talk to you.

-----

"Satoru?"

The surpise evident in your voice as you saw him waiting for you beside your door. Sitting on the floor no less.

His signature cheery grin immediately curved on his face as he saw you. "Yo!"

You took a cautious step forward, a small frown on your face. "What are you doing here?"

He stood up to his full height, towering over you. "Well, someone was avoiding me so I had to find a way to see her somehow."

You visibly flinch at the implication of his words. "I wasn't avoiding you."

"Oh?"

"I was-"

"Busy. Sure. But you didn't seem busy while you were laughing it off with Nobara and Utahime." The tone of his voice was pouty, almost like was jealous that you were giving your attention to someone else.

You huffed, frustrated. "Gojo-"

"Satoru."

"What?"

"Im Satoru or Toru.." He began, voice melancholic. "Never Gojo, not to you."

Seriously, this guy. He has always been hard to read. Sometimes you wonder what might be going on in his mind from all the crazy things he does. Yet he has always been so vocal about everything to you that it wasn't so necessary to read his mind, except now.

A small sigh tumbled out of your lips. "Satoru."

The sound if your sweet voice calling his name so softly immediately brightened him up. "That's my girl."

You felt the blood rush to your cheeks at his words. It wasnt strange that you fell for him. Whats strange is how it took you this long to realize it.

Slender fingers tilted your chin up, "Now, how about ya tell me why you're avoiding me?"

Your eyes dart to the side, trying to find a way to escape him. Maybe you could jump over the railing? It just a two story building, but wait, would you even be fast enough to out run him?

Satoru immediately notices your dilemma, "Uh-uh." He tuts you. "Rid your pretty little head of those ideas, there's no escaping here."

Damn it, you thought. He was never going to let this go, was he? You were starting to think that it was time to face the music. To admit the truth that you were scared to admit even to yourself.

Strong arms start caging you against your door, trapping you to him which made your heartbeat raise exponentially.

"Ready to share with the class?" A small smirk dance on his face as leaned in closer, face a hair breadth away.

His blindfold gave nothing to what he was thinking which was just unfair. You bit your lip as you inched closer to him, making his breath hitch. Soft fingers reached up and tugged down his blindfold, causing whispy white hair to fall down and reveal mesmerising ocean blue eyes. Eyes that were completely enchanted by your every movement.

You wanted to see his honest reaction, leaving nothing to chance.

With your heart pounding in your ears, you took in a shaky breath before gazing back into his eyes. Your voice trembled a little as clumsy words tumble out of your lips, "I- Im in love with you."

His eyes widen slightly and its like he stopped breathing altogether. She loves me. She loves me. she loves me.

After a few beats, you were suddenly pulled flush into his chest. Arms wrapped around your torso as he tucked his head into your neck. "Sato-"

"Say it again."

"It's embarrassing. Don't make me say it again." You mumble into his cloth shoulder.

"Please?" He pleaded in that sad voice of his.

With your face flushed red and hands gripping his clothes tightly on his lower back. You sigh in defeat, you could never truly deny him of anything, could you? "I love you."

Your mind was racing a mile a minute. He hasn't said anything of substance but his tight grip on you gave you some semblance of hope. Hope that you didn't throw your years of friendship down the drain.

A soft laugh pulled you put of your thoughts. Before it turns into full blown laughter. Without warning , your feet left the ground as your being spun around by Satoru. His laugh like a melody in your ears that you couldn't help but giggle a little despite the confusion.

"Satoru, Im getting dizzy!" You cry out.

"Oops, sorry!" He planted you back on your feet and just when you started to catch your breath, soft lips pressed into yours in a searing kiss, like wanted to imprint his lips on yours. It made your toes curl and tingles run up your spine. You barely had the time to respond as Satoru pulled away leaving you breathless.

Gentle hands cradle your face as he leans his forehead against yours, a smile that seemed to be permanently etched into his face gleam back at you. "I love you too."

Your breath hitch at his admission, its like the words were trapped in you throat. You didn't know what to say. You feel your eyes turn glossy and you had to blink away the tears of relief. After being so scared of losing him.

The lack of response only made his smile widen into a goofy grin. "I love you, princess." His body began to cave into yours again. "-so so much."

You whispered something under your breath which made him pull away a bit. "Say somethin?"

"I said why didn't you just say that sooner!" You all but smack him , making him let out an exaggerated whine of pain. "Sorryyy, I just got so excited."

----

Bonus*

"By the way." He began from his side of the sofa, your legs sprawled out on his lap. "What made ya think that telling me that y'were madly and deeply in love with me was a bad thing?"

You roll your eyes at him, "First of all I did not say madly or deeply-" You sigh a bit, "Secondly, I didn't want to ruin our friendship."

He just tilts his head obliviously, "What? Really?" He rubs his chin in consideration. "Ive been trying to ruin our friendship for years though."

"What are you talking about?"

He shrugs, "Ive been flirting with you for years."

"You- what." You say dumbfounded.

Grabbing your hand, he pulls you to straddle his lap. Thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your waist. "Ive been in love with you for years. Flirted with you non-stop to make you fall for me. I was starting to think it didn't had any effect until now."

God, you wanted to smack his cocky grin away. "Reason I got so excited when ya told me was because the only thing going through my mind was thank God it worked!"

Instead you groan into his shoulder, "You're impossible, Toru."

"You love me."

"I do."

------------------

A review would be much appreciated :)

#gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #fanfiction #still broken hearted over satoru #fluff

[marinafanning]

batfam incorrect quotes (from perchance)

*talking on the phone*  jason: Remember how I said that cass and I were gonna have a calm night out for once?  silena: Yeah…  jason: Well, we’re in jail.  silena: *hangs up*

damien: dick, you risked your life to save me!  dick: And I’d do it again! And perhaps a third time! But that would be it.

tim: Yeah I'm LGBT.  tim: cuLt leader.  tim: God hates me personally.  tim: cowBoy hat.  tim: *sniffles* Trying my best.

cass: I like to play this game called nap roulette. I take a nap and don’t set an alarm. Will it be 20 min or 4 hours? Nobody knows. It’s risky and I like it.

steph, about cass: Can I tell them they look nice?  dick: Sure.  steph: Can I tell them I respect them?  dick: Maybe, if they ask.  steph: Should I show them an oil painting I made of us surrounded by our three cats and four dogs?  dick: …  dick: I’d save that for later.

tim: So what’s the plan?  jason: I don’t know. You’re smart, *points at cass* they’re mean, come up with something.

*at 3am*  cass: *runs into silena’s room and turns on the light* Wake up sleepyhead!  silena: *wakes up* Dude!  cass: *cackles*  bruce: *sits up from where they were sleeping behind silena* What the fuck, cass?  cass: *jaw drops* Wait WHAT-

silena: So, kate is no longer allowed to take the trash out at night.  babs: Why?  silena: Because I've caught them trying to train raccoons to fight five times in a row.  kate, arms crossed and pouting: You'll be thanking me when the third raccoon battalion saves your ass.

kate: Never gonna make you cry!  dick: Never gonna say goodbye!  kate: Never gonna tell a lie—  damien: I will hurt you.

steph, driving and singing to the Little Einsteins theme song: We’re going on a trip-  harper: In our favorite piece of shit!  babs: Doing 95!  tim: We’re gonna fucking die!

harper: I have an idea.  kate: A good idea?  harper: Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

harper: babs, how do you feel about lifting heavy things?  babs: My doctor just said I should avoid—  harper: Being a wuss? I agree.

jason: Where is everyone?  damien: silena had a nervous collapse, alfred is looking after them, kate is trying to kill steph, so I’m in charge.  jason: Oh my god!  damien: I know, right?

babs: If you ever feel stupid or weak or powerless, just remember that I am not. I am out there, very dangerous, and I am looking for you. Good luck.

bruce: babs won’t wake up, what do I do?  steph: Did you try kicking them?  bruce: Yes.  steph: I’m out of ideas.

bruce: I feel like everyone on this island is suspicious, babs. Except you!  babs: But bruce, I think you're suspicious!  bruce: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

*when the Squad drops food*  alfred: Eh, oh well.  cass: FIVE-SECOND RULE!  harper: FUCK!  kate: *just gets more food*  tim: *drops to their knees and mourns the food*  jason: *eats the food off the ground*

tim: dick, please calm down.  dick: I asked for two large fries!  dick: *dumps fries onto table*  dick: But all they did was give me a MILLION FUCKING LITTLE ONES!

tim: I'm not superstitious... But I am a little stitious.

harper: Thanks for not telling bruce what happened.  dick, dumbfounded: I wouldn’t even know where to begin trying to explain this.

cass: How do I make a date really romantic?  silena: Be mysterious.  cass: Okay!  *later, while on a date with steph*  steph: So where are we going?  cass: None of your fucking business.

#batfam #incorrect quotes #dcu #jason todd #catwoman #cassandra cain #damien wayne #dick grayson #tim drake #stephanie brown #bruce wayne #barbara gordon #kate kane #harper row #alfred pennyworth #batman #robin #nightwing #red hood #batgirl #spoiler dc