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angelizs · 1 year

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[Club Activities - part 2]

Summary: Crowley keeps knocking at your door, quite literally, wanting to hear your club choice. You might as well get this over with.

Notes: gn!reader, humor, it's kinda long, reader is oblivious, mentions of minor injuries but in a funny way dw, it's the looong overdue pt2

Part: 1.0 / 2 (you're here!) / 2.5 (soon!)

"So, have you decided?"

Crowley stands by the doorway. He looks completely normal, a pleasant smile plastered on his lips. You blink, sluggish, resisting the urge to slam the door on his face.

"It's five a.m. on a sunday."

"Yes, that's correct, good to see you're keeping up with the passage of time."

You feel there's a jab aimed at you for taking your time on choosing a club. Or on answering the door. In your defense, Grim was sleeping on top of you and you didn't want to disturb his sleep. Nor yours. You were hoping the Headmaster would just give up and leave you alone, but instead he only knocked louder.

"Well?"

"Uh..." You take a bit to remember the first thing he said. "No, I still have some meetings to go to."

"Were the sports clubs not to your liking? I'm sure you'd do well in one, should you put your efforts on it."

"Nah, I'll pass."

"I see. Then, you'll tell me your decision by the end of the week, yes?"

"Since when did we agree on this." It was a question, but with your drowsy state it just fell flat.

"Since now, of course! I was very kind to let you take so much time to chose a club, but you must understand I'm under some pressure as well to make sure you'll have the best possible education here. We can't afford to lose too much time!"

You blink again, your brain still sleepy. "Oh. Alright."

Crowley claps his hands in an excited manner. "Wonderful! I'll be eagerly waiting for your decision, then!"

Only as you watch his retreating back getting farther away that it finally registers just what you agreed on. You groan, closing the door and leaning against it.

Well, nothing to do about it now. You should really get onto it, anyway. Still, your break will be missed.

Film Research Club (Vil, Ortho platonically)

You had finally left the sports clubs behind, time to try something new, like arts!

Since you've worked with Vil at the SDC, you were already used to his strict personality and thought you'd be able to handle yourself pretty well. You might not have that much experience with acting but you did know how to pretend everything was ok and your life wasn't falling apart, so you think you might have potential.

It was quite surprising to see Ortho there, but the sight of your friend's welcoming eyes and cheer made you feel relieved, relaxing amidst the Pomefiore students. They were intimidating, though in a different way the guys from the Spelldrive club were. The latter looked like they could easily beat you to a pulp, while the former looked like they'd give you a disgusted stare and call you a peasant in such a condescending tone you'd implode on spot. They were all very pretty as well, but you wouldn't let that make you self conscious since you knew no one could beat Vil anyway.

Speaking of, Vil himself comes to speak with you and explain about the club with a professional conduct as he says that Crowley had warned him of your special situation and that he'd let you help out, since they always needed extra hands on deck. You got hopeful at that, perhaps it was time for you to shine and discover a hiden talent of yours! These daydreams are soon crushed as Vil puts you on backstage duty and turns around, having something or other to talk about with the other members.

Well. That was... not what you were expecting. Ortho explains that in order to enter the club as an actor, you must audition beforehand and prove yourself worthy. That makes sense, you guess, so you accept it with grace. Backstage work might not be as exciting as being on the actual stage, but you had Ortho by your side to make sure things won't be too dull. And a side of you wants to make Vil proud of your work, so you suck it up and ask Ortho to lead the way.

Ortho shows you around the set you'll be working on for the day. It's one of Pomefiore's dorm ballrooms, and it's huge. You look in awe at everything, even though it's a bit plain in terms of furniture, it's quite detailed. In moments like this you remember Pomefiore's dorm is a castle, as you feel the royalty emanating from the ceiling, with it's luxurious chandeliers, to the walls, with it's intricate golden patterns, even at the floor, by it's quality.

He teaches you how to operate the lights and sound for a bit while the actors decide on what they'll film that day. You feel just the tiniest bit of jealousy at them, especially because Vil seems to be very focused on everything they say. Ortho must notice this (of course he would), and tries to cheer you up. After all, you're his friend! He doesn't want you to feel bored at the club when there are so many insteresting things to do!

You move from the more technical parts and go to the storage room, where they keep most of the props and extra accessories. You explore it, looking at everything but not touching, not wanting to get in trouble if you break anything on accident. As you're looking at an old mirror, Ortho picks up one of the pink cowboy hats and puts it on your head. It looks goofy, not matching with your uniform at all, and it makes you laugh.

You retaliate by putting a pirate hat full of colorful feathers that's way too big on him. It slides down and covers his eyes, making him look like a little kid trying on their sibling's clothes. Not to mention the feathers, that also clash with his body's design. You both laugh and go to different directions, trying to find more things to put on.

Ortho ends up with a vivid red sash wrapped around his waist and a wooden rod in hands, while you've got a pink feather scarf around your neck and a hollow steel rod in hands. You stare down at each other from your sides of the room, pretending you're on one of those western cowboy movies, even acting like it too. You drawl out something about the town not being big enough for the two of you. Ortho goes along, putting up the worst pirate accent with his robotic voice and telling you to prepared to be boarded.

Between giggles, the two of you meet at the middle, your rods clashing as if they were swords. You make exaggerated moviments that would be impratical in any fight while dropping the most cliche lines you can think of. Ortho dodges your attacks in slow motion and retributes with his own, making it seem more like some funny dance than a sword fight.

You were having so much fun you kind of forgot you were there to do a job. You're quickly reminded as the door suddenly opens and you, startled, let the steel rod slip from your hands mid attack and hit the wall with a loud clang. There stands Vil, hands on his hips as he stares at the two of you with one arched eyebrow, an unimpressed look on his face even after almost being hit right on it. You're not looking the most dignified, with your whole attire. Nor is Ortho, which helps you to not feel alone on the receiving end of Vil's judgment.

The three of you leave the props behind and return to the main area. More precisely, to the actors' dressing room part. It's not an actual separate room, but rather a space of the ballroom reserved for this. Most have put on their costumes and are adjusting the finer details, Vil instructs you to help them while he sets up the stage.

You try your best, but every actor sends you a glare as you approach them, making you turn on your heels and try another one. And another. And another. You're not feeling very helpful. How you wish you could just ignore it like Ortho does. The only thing you actually do is helping zip up some clothes when they can't reach their backs and do it themselves. You don't dare to touch their hair or you feel they'd explode you with their minds. There is one instance when you have to lace a guy into a corset, but you get a bit confused with all the laces. Maybe it's like tying a shoe? You pull on it with too much force at first, leading him to complain at you the entire time. In your defense, you've never done this before! You tie it up with a cute lace at the end to make up for it and scurry away before he could release more of his wrath upon you. You settle on following Ortho around like a lost puppy.

Finally, everyone finishes up and you move to the middle of the room, where the scene will be taking place. From what you gather, the movie they are making is about a royal family that's having their heir assume the throne, but there's a plot against him going behind the scenes. The main character seems to be corset guy, who still glares at you whenever you pass by his camp of vision, much to your (un)luck.

Ortho leads you to the first place he showed, since they'd start recording soon. You watch him work with the lights, turning them on dramatically as they start the scene and making it follow the main lead as he monologues about his woes of assuming such a big responsability and how he feels between the sea of people present. The actor does a good job, good enogh to appease Vil, who watches attentively near the camera. The thing is, he's trying to replicate a foreign accent and that, combined with his melodramatic lines, makes you have to stifle a laugh.

You try your best to stay quiet and pay attention to the story, but some of the lines and the way they dramatically deliver them sound so silly you can't help but giggle in your palm. Ortho looks at you inquisitively, tilting his head and trying to understand what you found so funny. You whisper an explanation to him, making him see the words in a different manner. As you laugh, he laughs along discretely, both of you having fun again.

Vil motions for you to keep your volume down, as to not disturb the actors and break their concentration, and you send him a thumbs up. Still, you keep on reacting, even mouthing their words with exaggerated facial expressions. Ortho seems much more interested in what you have to show than the lights, since he misses some of his cues and gets it later or sooner than intended. Which is also funny, since the confused looks on the background actors' faces are very entertaining.

It comes to a point in which you're holding in your laughter so much you're a bit out of air, and you end up bumping into one of the controls, making the background music change suddenly, from a calm waltz to an action scenesque one. Your startled eyes meet Ortho's, and in true friendship fashion you both burst out laughing. Vil cuts the filming and strides up on you two, reprimanding you once again, and you feel like a guilty puppy being scolded by their owner. You must look like that too, since he sighs like an overworked mother and takes pity on you, deciding on something else for you to do and leave Ortho to do his job without distractions.

Vil gives you the role of an extra to play, just for you to have an idle conversation with the protagonist that won't last even five minutes. He shows you exactly how the scene should go, taking hold of your hand to conduct a dance and dropping casual chatter with you, looking you in the eyes, with a conduct that's so charming you're sure you feel your heart skip a beat (too bad it's just acting though). You feel like you can do that as well, so you hurry to change into one of the formal outfits and repeat the line Vil told you over and over again in your head, heart beating way too fast.

There is just one thing you didn't count on: you apparently have a bad case of stage fright. Or perhaps it's happening especifically because you know Vil will be watching you like a hawk. As you position yourself amidst the other extras, you feel your heartbeat accelerating and your hands start to sweat. You try to relax your tense shoulders and clear your throat, looking at the floor to steady yourself.

As your cue approaches, you move closer to the corset guy, whose attention snaps at you as soon as you enter his vision field. Even if his face looks polite, like a prince, you can feel the glare he's still sending your way, just on a more subdued level this time. You can also feel the stares of the others on your back and your tongue seems to have been tied. Your head comes up with a blank when you try to remember what Vil told you to say. Oh, this is not good. Why did this have to be so nerve wracking?

Time passes slowly, seconds feels like hours as the protagonist waits expectantly for your words. Trying to not disappoint, you blurt out a joke improvisation line, like the ones you see on movies sometimes. Unfortunately, your sense of humor is vastly different from Pomefiore's students', and the joke falls so flat everyone has to take a moment to recover. You wish for the ground to swallow you as Vil yells a "Cut!" and the other actors look judgmentally in your way. Maybe if you close your eyes it will go away? You can still hear the other's whispering, and although you don't understand what exactly they're saying, you can only guess they're mocking you. Welp, guess it's time to become a hermit at ramshackle and never show your face at school ever again!

It takes only a minute, but as soon as Vil has recomposed himself he commands everyone to be quiet. You open your eyes again, gathering all your courage to see the disappointed look on his face, but you're surprised that's not what greets you. Instead, Vil's got a nasty glare that's sharp enough to cut a man, and it's not directed at you at all! Vil procceds to reprimand the rest of the cast for being so inelegant as to make fun of a begginer and even mocks their need to feel superior. You've never felt more grateful for him in your life, maybe you can still go to classes after that, since no one will dare to mess with you and risk his wrath.

As the others look ashamed for being yelled at by their leader, Vil pulls you aside and tells you that maybe it's better to try something else if your stage fright is going to affect your performance so much. He sounds strict as always, but he has an almost soft look in his eyes as he congratulates you for trying to overcome that fear and that you did well enough for someone with no experience. You feel a lot better after that and thank him sincerely, promising to give it your all at whatever other job you can do to help! He smiles at your enthusiasm and it's as if the clouds have parted ways for the sun to shine. (The other club members look amazed, as they've never seen such a soft smile on Vil's face before.)

He then asks you if you know how to work with a camera. If taking pics with Cater to post on Magicam counts then yes, you do have some experience with it. Vil says he's got the perfect job for you: being part of the camera crew and helping to film everything. You accept, after all, how hard can it be, really?

Apparently, a lot. Vil had just left out a little detail from this job: you'd be filming the aerial angle of this scene. Which meant using Kalim's magic carpet. As you recall, you're not the most adept at riding it, flashbacks from winter vacation entering in your mind. Still, you had promised Vil you'd help on this, and you weren't sure if he'd find you another thing to do or get your complaining the wrong way, so you decide to give it a try anyway.

You wobble on it, camera propped up on your shoulder and secured by a sling strap just in case you losen your hold on it. (Which is very likely). Surprisingly, you manage to get the carpet off the ground without many complications, so things are looking up (quite literally)! And then comes the part where you have to guide it and you're almost thrown out of a window with the force it makes a turn. Your grip on it tightens and you try to wrestle it into submission, with little success.

Things procced like this, you trying to learn how to drive the carpet while making turns on the air and holding on for your life. (And making sure the camera is safe. You don't want a repeat of the chandelier accident from the start of the year, so you're not taking any chances). Anything you might have tried to film is probably so shaky and blurry it isn't even usable, but you have more important matters to worry about.

That goes on until you make a particularly sharp turn, causing the carpet to lose control and go spiraling straight to the floor. Luckly, you manage to land on a convenientely placed couch (has that been there before?) and doesn't get much hurt. You're clutching the camera to your chest in a protective manner, so it isn't damaged either. At least, not much, but it isn't anything the Ignihyde guys can't fix.

Vil and Ortho are by your side in an instant, asking if you're alright. Vil extends his hand and pulls you up like a gentleman, fixing your hair softly. He's really close to your face and you can feel your heart beating faster, though you're not sure if it's due to that or the adrenaline of the fall. Ortho reassures you that not even him got the hang of piloting the carpet, as it seems to only actually obey Kalim, and that you did your best!

You really did try, so you can safely say you won't discover any hidden acting talent any time soon. Time to check out other clubs.

(Ortho tells you to drop by another time at practice and watch the recording with him, since he had a lot of fun! Vil tells you that should you wish and work hard for it, you may have potential and he'd be willing to help you reach it. You agree, since it was very nice to visit and, most of all, to get to see Vil on his element like this. There's an added bonus of you not having ended up at the infirmary as well, which is enough to put the club on a positive light in your books. It's a bit sad that's the standard, but oh well, nothing to do about it.)

Science Club (Trey, Rook)

Alright, art may not be for you, but maybe science is! Or... whatever it is that they do in this club.

It's a bit intimidating since there are way too many people there, more than you've seen in any other club. What could they possibly be doing to attract this many people?

Rook, as observant as ever, notices you before you've even set foot inside the lab, coming close to greet you and ask if you were going to join them for the day. You relutanctly agree, staying close to his side as he leads you deeper into the room, opening the path. You make sure to not bump into anyone and cause an accident.

Trey is at one of the work tables at the back, sharing it with Rook. He sends a calming smile your way and explains that it's a club with a vast variety of activities, as long as they're not of the physical sort. You sigh in relief, listening to him reciting things such as plant cultivation and chemistry experiments. You already have to do those things on your regular classes, so you're confident in your ability of succeding for once. Rook adds that this flexibility in activity has attracted many people, creating a beauté diversity of members. (Trey explains that there's a lot of odd people as he side eyes Rook).

You sit with them, since you don't know anyone else. Rook goes on about the experiment he'll be doing this time, something that will leave a beautiful impact and stay on the mind of anyone looking. It sounds a lot like what happens when you partner up with Ace and Deuce at alchemy class, that is, stuff is about to be blown up. You scoot closer to Trey.

Taking pity on you, Trey reminds Rook that there's an ingredient missing, since they had used all from the lab's storage on their last class, and offers to get it at the botanical garden for him, inviting you to come along. You jump at the opportunity, agreeing and getting up to follow him. Rook thanks his generosity and explains that there's no way a gentleman like him would leave all the hard work onto the two of you, so he follows along. Trey looks a bit annoyed, but you only wanted to get out of being roped into a crazy experiment so you don't mind much, as long as you keep Rook away from any potential explosive plants.

The fresh air from the gardens is much better than the stuffy feeling from the crowded lab, and you take a deep breath to appreciate it. Trey takes you to the temperate zone, the path filled with beautiful flowers of all colors and scents. The sound of the little river below you only adds to the pleasant atmosphere, the sun rays warming up your skin and soul. It's wonderful. You'd like it if your club classes were to take place there. It might be enough to convince you to join, the nature so full of life energizing your mood, a smile blooming on your face.

You pass by an area that has thicker vegetation and stands out from the whole, attracting your curiosity, so you ask Trey what could be there. He warns you to not wander to that side of the garden, as there were carnivorous plants being cultivated by the third years. You wave him off, saying you had those back in your world and they were pretty harmless. Trey looks at you in doubt, but decides to not question it, aceptting your answer and going back to his search for the missing ingredient.

Since you have no idea what you should be looking for, you leave the boys to it, deciding to observe the flowers instead. Distracted, you end up getting farther away from them, the flora enticing you and putting you under a spell, demanding your attention. It's not until you bump into a tall... something, that you realize how far you had gone. You lift up your head, wondering if you had bumped into a tree, only to find two open hinged lobes dripping with sap closing on your face.

A scream gets caught in your throat as you take in the gigantic carnivorous plant in front of you, that's only coming closer. You didn't know that when Trey had mentioned them, he didn't explain that they aren't like the one from your world at all. Not only were they huge, but also seemed ready to eat a human at any given chance.

You're pulled by someone behind you, falling into a secure chest and feeling strong arms embracing your waist as the plant's jaw's close into the air where you were just a second ago. The sigh you let out shakes your whole body and you let your weight be supported by your saviour. You find out his identity soon enough, as a familiar voice by your ear calls you chéri and asks if you were fine.

After thanking Rook, he guides you to the main area of the garden with a protective hand behind your back, making sure you wouldn't stumble into any more potential dangerous plants, as he goes on about how they were "the hunters of the natural world" and how "such danger has it's own alluring charm, non?" You don't catch the glint in his eyes as he asks the question, too busy trying to get your heart beat back into a normal rhythm.

Trey scolds you lightly for ignoring his advice, but he seems busier trying to equilibrate the plants he harvested in his arms and glaring at Rook, probably for leaving him alone to do all the work. Rook stays unbothered, putting his hands on your shoulders and staying close as he directs you to the exit, his usual smile stamped on his face.

As you put the fresh ingredients near the others that Rook had selected earlier, you notice some strawberries in the mix. You shot a questioning stare at Trey, making him laugh and explain he took the chance to harvest some of his hand grown special strawberries. He takes some from your hands, brushing your fingers together before lifting them up to inspect closely. The strawberries are a beautiful shade of red, making you salivate only by looking at them. Trey has a contemplative expression as he murmurs he should use them as soon as possible in order to make the best use of their ripeness.

You suggest him to make a strawberry tart with them and offers your help, on the light price of getting to eat it as well. He smiles and agrees to your proposal, telling you to follow him to the kitchens. You do, happily so as you carry some of the strawberries in your arms, leaving Rook to take care of the potions experiment. Really, you feel like you've killed two birds with one stone, so you pat yourself on the back for doing a good job.

Back at the first month of classes, you remember cooking with Trey, Ace, Deuce and Grim, and how much fun you had, despite the circumstances. With the group reduced to two, it might be more toilsome, but you were confident it would be worth it.

Trey finds an extra apron for you, tying it himself to make sure it would stay in place. He gently explains the steps to prepare the ingredients, helping you whenever you didn't understand something. It was quite nice, seeing Trey look so in his element, an unconscious soft expression on his face, as if he was enjoying himself. It's domestic, even, how you dance around each other in the kitchen, passing bowls and cutlery back and forth. He is good humored as he recalls stories from the club, making you laugh whenever he bemoans Rook's experiments.

The stories he tells are very captivating, so much so that you don't look at the recipe book, doing the steps on automatic. Once or twice you almost spill what you were mixing or use too much force to cut something, but it's salvageable every time, so you don't comment on it. You leave the crust on the oven for a bit too much, but it's only slightly charred, so you're pretty sure it's still edible. One of the flour bags slips from your hands and falls on the sink, covering your face in flour powder. Trey helps you clean up, but he's laughing at you and your now white hair. It comes to the point in which you're mixing the crème pâtissière and you get too close to the stove, making the ends of your sleeves to catch on fire. Trey quickly puts it out and runs your arm under cold water. The crème ends up a bit too lumpy, since neither of you were stirring it for a while, but it's not too bad.

Alright, maybe you're not the best at cooking. Still, arranging the strawberries in a circle on top of the tart was pretty fun. The last thing left to do is to let it cool. You lick your lips thinking about eating it once it's ready. You're about to help Trey clean the mess you've made in the kitchen when Rook bursts through the door, looking excited. He tells you there's no time to explain and takes you by the hand, dragging you back to the laboratory. You send Trey your best regards and wish him luck in cleaning everything alone. He sends you a pitying look back.

You should wish yourself some luck as well, since the motive for Rook to have brought you to the lab was for you to help him with the new formula he thought for his experiment. He explains that the one he was trying didn't have it's desired effects, as you could clearly see from the scorch marks on the table you were sitting before. He says that for the new formula, he'll need help to get the ingredients prepared and handed over, since he couldn't stop stirring it until everything was added in. You don't know how he came up with this solution, and honestly? You don't want to know.

Having no other choice, you agree to help him. He reminds you to put your gloves and safety googles on before starting, making a comment on how your cute apron would do as your lab coat. After getting into place, you follow all of Rook's instructions, preparing and handing over the ingredients he asks for. You have no idea what it is that he's going for, as your potions classes are still on a basic and more theorical level, but you decide to trust that he, as your upperclassman, knows what he's doing.

Dread pools on your gut as you watch the ingredients going into the cauldron. There's a hissing sound and bubbles emerge from the deep purple concotion. You have no time to react as Rook thows his arm in front of you just in time for the explosion to take place. You grip onto the table tightly and manage to stay upright, thanking the Sevens for your safety googles. If it were not for them, your entire face would be covered in a sparkling purple powder, some getting into your hair as well. Rook laughs and tells you that you shine bright like the sun. You look on unamused. Trey appears, having heard the explosion, and sighs, clearly being too used to this happening. He tells you and Rook to clean up as he starts to clean your mess, bless him.

Rook takes you to the nearest bathroom available, both of you trying to wash the explosion's results off. It has stuck like glue, and you have to splash your face with the cold water over and over for it to go away. You think there's still some of it on your hair, but can't bring yourself to care much. The apron wasn't enough to cover your body, so your clothes weren't spared either. Rook doesn't comment on it, but you can see him looking at you funny by the corner of your eye.

As you enter the lab, you see that the students that stayed after the first explosion had left. Rook wonders out loud on why they didn't like the innovation of his experiment, sighing as he goes on about the beauty of curiosity. You and Trey exchange glances as you clean everything together. You feel like you stayed way past the club's scheduled time and your arms hurt from moping the floor. At least you get to share your wonky strawberry tart. It doesn't taste as good as Trey's usual ones do, but you like it. You can't decide if it was worth all the trouble though.

Grim laughs at you once you get back to Ramshackle, your face is itching for the rest of the day, there's some sparkles in your hair for the rest of the week, your slightly burnt arm won't stop aching, you sent your clothes' laundry bill for Rook to pay. As much as you respect scientific advances, you feel that being involved in the research isn't for you (nor the cooking). Time to check out other clubs.

(Rook keeps approaching you at the halls to update you on how he's thought of possible changes to make the potion work. Trey comments he liked having company in the kitchen and help for cleaning up for once. They aren't very subtle. You don't even have to agree to visit the club again another time, as Rook has already volunteered you as his lab assistant and Trey has gifted you a recipe book with markings on which recipes you'll try to bake next. Guess you have no other choice but to go back now.)

Pop Music Club (Cater, Kalim, Lilia)

And back to the arts you go. But this time, instead of performing, how about playing some music? Joining the school band might be fun!

You're surprised to only find three people in the club. All the others had a bunch of people, but in this one, once you enter the classroom you're met with three of your friends hanging out in a couch. Why was there a couch in this classroom in the first place!?

It's not just three random people, either. It's the chillest and most extroverted people of the school, the ones that got along with everyone and were very popular. They whip their head so fast to the direction of the door once you enter you get a little worried for their necks. They seem elated to have a visitor, so you suppose this won't be so bad, even if you don't feel confident enough to play an instrument in front of other people.

Kalim jumps at you and envelops you in a big hug, a smile shining on his face as usual. Lilia pats you on the back, pushing you closer to the center of the room and welcoming you. Cater takes out his phone and takes a selfie with everyone, declaring it would go viral to have the cutest people of the school all together in one place and gushing over how many likes he'd get. They sure are a lively bunch.

Lilia plops you down on the couch, telling you to feel at home and winking. There's a center table with food containers in front of you, Kalim offers you a bite, explaining they made the snacks to bring to their club meetings, and Cater proposes to make it a culinary competition, in which you'd judge which one was the best. You were pretty sure you had left the cooking behind at the science club, what did it even had to do with music? Well, you weren't going to complain about getting free food!

Cater insists you try his first, a round tupperware with fried corn tortilla chips and guacamole in a dipping bowl at the center. It looks amazing, making your mouth water a bit. You take one of the chips, lightly lower it on the dip and take a bite. It's overall very good, the consistency and the crispness are wonderful, there's just one little problem: it's very spicy. Very spicy. Not the "oh no there's a tiny bit of spice in my otherwise bland food" type but the "my eyes are burning my thorat is burning my stomach is burning I'm going to burn from the inside out" type. And that's how you feel as you fan your face and drink the water Kalim brings you, though it only makes the burning worse, spreading it throughout your mouth and making your eyes water. Lilia appears upside down, hanging from the ceiling and scaring you, and offers you a glass of milk instead. You gratefully take it and chug it down as quick as you can.

Once you've calmed down, Lilia explains how he keeps milk around for Cater's food, that's way too spicy for his liking. Cater looks at you with puppy eyes, asking if you liked the chilli peppers he added to the recipe. You didn't, not really. It would be one thing to add some, sure, but it's like there's more pepper than anything else. You weakly smile at him and explain apologetically that it might not suit your tastes so much. Cater seems a bit down, but he only shrugs and jokingly says that not everyone can have good taste.

Kalim bounces up to you next, shoving his container in front of your face and telling you to try it. He proudly says he made it all without Jamil's help and that he hopes you'll like it. You look at the fried dumplings, remembering it's a sweet called awameh. It looks good as well, although a bit burnt, nothing that would stop you from eating it. You take one, getting surprised by how crunchy they ended up being, the sweetness exploding in your tongue. It would be very good, but you have the impression Kalim must have used the wrong measure of the ingredients. Yes, it was sweet, but it was way too sweet. Not only that, the sugar mixed with the cinnamon on the syrup also left you thirsty, as you downed another cup of water. It was like cinnamon was impregnated on your mouth, there was definetly too much.

While you accept your tongue will never be the same after the combo of strong flavours, Kalim reveals he tried to follow one of Jamil's mom's recipes for it, declaring it to be the best he's ever proved. He just got a bit confused when taking the measures for some ingredients, but he was proud of his work! You make a mental note to try to eat one of Jamil's awameh later, sure that it would taste delicious, and compliments Kalim on his efforts, suggesting gently to ask for help next time he has trouble with it.

The last one is Lilia, and you start dreading what might be hidden on his container. He seems preppy that someone will get to try his food, telling you that he's the one that cooks dinner at Diasomnia and how Silver and Sebek love his food. Cater and Kalim look at you with pity, shaking their heads. You've heard of Lilia's infamous cooking skills before, so you have to mentally prepare yourself before looking at what he prepared. It's... uh... something alright. Though it's unrecognizable, a dark glob that just looks sticky and burnt after the point. Your desperate look does nothing for Cater and Kalim to try to save you, as they look away furtively.

Aceppting your fate, you take one of the spoons Lilia brought and take the smallest bite possible while he stares at you attentively. It tastes foul, as expected, as if something had died in your mouth. You resist the urge to gag, trying to go for a smile and ending up with a grimace instead. It's horrible, there's no other way to describe it. All the rumors don't do it justice, it's way worse than what they say. You suspect you will get food poisoning later, as you down another glass of water. At least you're keeping yourself hydrated. Lilia seems to either not notice or pretend he didn't, as he keeps his cheery attitude and asks if you liked it. You nod weakly, hoping it would be enough for him to not force you to take another bite. He mercifully looks satisfied with the answer and you sigh with relief.

In the end you tell them you don't know which one was the best (you side eye Lilia's, thinking on how you knew which one was the worst at least). They don't look disappointed, content in having you prove their food as each munchs on their own snacks happily. You wonder how they manage to do it. Suddenly you miss Trey's baking and the wonky strawberry tart you've made.

As everyone sits together, Cater puts on some electropop song on the background that reminds you of the famous vocaloids from your world. You have an epiphany that Cater would listen to Hatsune Miku. You're not sure what to do with that information, staying quiet in shock as the other three talk between themselves. You remember him mentioning something like it when you went to do the SDC auditions, but you had other things to worry about and it must have slipped your mind. Once you've recomposed yourself, you ask what the food had to do with music, since the question had been burning in your mind for some time (not as much as your tongue burned tho).

They explain that the pop music club doen't really do much music, as the name suggests, they mostly just hang around to chat and chill. It has gotten them in a bit of trouble with the Headmaster, as they don't do anything that could actually be considered a club activity, causing him to have threatened to disband the club. Not to mention there's no new members for a while, no matter how much they try to attract more students. You consider joining this one just to spite Crowley. They clarify that they do play their instruments every once in a while to cover some song, but with their different music tastes they never reach an agreement on what to play most of the time.

You're curious on how they might sound as a band, sure it would be a chaotic but entertaining sight. You would ask to see this, if it was not for Cater excitedly declaring it's "gossiping time". They put on elevator music to play at the background and huddle close together, leaving a spot open for you to join their little circle, as if you were about to be in into the school's secrets. And that's exactly what happens, as the three of them seem to know about everyone and everything that goes on Night Raven College. There's so much drama you've never heard about, and you feel you know way too much about the lives of people you've never even met, but it's nice to create conspiracy theories about what would happen next in the soap opera that was other people's lives.

The topic changes to Magicam, since you were lowkey stalking the boy that had caused a ruckus in the cafeteria the past days. Cater likes his account's aesthetic, saying it passes the bad boy vibes he has, and whines about their club's magicam page. You weren't aware they even had one, so you ask to see it. It's... not what you were expecting. They might as well not have an account, since there are no photos other than their icon, which was the symbol of the club. Cater complains that they couldn't come to an agreement on how the page should look and were too lazy to try to work something out, so it has stayed like that for months.

Since you know how much he cares about this stuff, you offer your help! After all, it could be a lot of fun, and it'd feel as if you're the manager of the club. Cater lightens up with joy, throwing his arms around you and bringing you close to affectionately rub his cheeck on the top of your head, thanking you for being such a prestative underclassman. You enter your business mode, thinking on how you could go about this. It makes sense to promote the club doing something other than hanging out, so you tell them to pick up their instruments and pose.

You go around them and try many different angles. Kalim and Lilia have fun doing weird poses that makes very clear they aren't playing at all, but there's a charming genuine smile on their faces. Cater poses with his guitar like a professional, making captivating facial expressions that make even you swoon, only encouraging him to make different ones. He could be a model, you think, with how he knows all the right ways to smile at the camera and tilts his head just so to make him look cute and alluring at the same time, fingers skillfully positioned at the eletric guitar's chords, eyes lidded, hair messy deliberately, body facing forwards with confidence. He has everything to ace the rockstar persona, at least in looks.

You try taking some of them together as an unit, but none pleases you enough. There's something missing, but you can't quite put your finger on what. You give his cellphone back as you ponder about it. Cater looks through the photos, commenting how one looks "super cool~" and in the other he's "slaying". He decides it'd be a great moment to take advantage of his cuteness streak to take a photo with everyone together, yourself included. Cater drapes his arm around your shoulders and keeps you close to him, cheek coming to rest at your forehead. Kalim and Lilia make poses behind you two, laughing at how silly they look with all the filters Cater tries on.

He ends up telling you to decide which photo looked better, as he couldn't chose just one, something like: "any photo with you would look cute, of course I can't chose!" You look through all of them, but only one gets your eyes, the only without a filter. Everyone looks genuinely happy, making your heart warm. Cater's is not looking at the camera itself, but slightly to the side, where you are, with such a soft expression you can't help but be endeared by it. It's him, not a forced smile and exaggerated pose, just Cater, happy. That's what the other pictures were missing.

You show it to him, insisting it's the best and should be the first photo on the club's Magicam page. He pouts about the lack of filter, saying how the other ones look much cuter, but you explain that you like the real him much more than any filter, since nothing could ever come close to the real deal, no filter in the world could make him justice. You're very genuine with it too, since it's the truth. Cater stares at you, caught by surprise, and turns his face away from you, ears tinted pink, taking a minute to recompose himself, leaving you confused. Lilia looks on knowingly, smirking at him. You weren't alone in your confusion, as Kalim seemed to be just as clueless as you.

Your argument manages to convince him, though, as he soon comes up with an eye catching description and posts it, grumbling that you should be happy now. You are, actually, so you simply smile at him, giggling at his playful eye roll. Only after the picture was already posted and you entered on your own account that you notice your eyes were closed. You yelp and try to convince Cater to change it to another one, but he refuses, telling that you were the one that chose it so you should stick with it, sticking his tongue out at you in a childsh manner. You whine some more before giving up. Cater seemed really content with the choice, if the soft smile on his face as he glanced at it meant anything, so you let it be, resigning to your fate. You weren't even a member, so you hoped you wouldn't attract that much attention. (You really hoped Ace wouldn't find it, otherwise you'd never hear the end of it.)

He suddenly gets an idea to decorate the classroom to make it look more "magicamable", dragging Lilia with him to get the decorations. Lilia whispers something to him that makes him glance back at you with a red face, quickly scurrying away and leaving you and Kalim to look on in confusion. How weird, what had gotten into him?

At that moment, the playlist shuffles, coming up with a song that has a very upkeep beat. Kalim jumps in excitement, saying that was his favorite song and he couldn't not dance to it. You can't help jumping your leg and moving your head to the beat, swaying to the contagious rhthym. Kalim notices and extends his hands in your direction, inviting you to dance with him. You know you're nowhere near his skill level and you'd look clumsy compared to his fluid moviments, but his earnestness convinces you to give it a try. You were sure he wouldn't make fun of you, so why not have a good time too?

Hand in hand, the two of you move together, not completly in sync, but in a rhythm that feels right, that's only yours. It's nice, seeing his content expression up close, foreheads almost touching, feet following the other's steps, hips swaying together. You spin once, laughing, he spins once, grinning wildly. You're lost in the trance of the hypnotizing beat of Kalim's heart.

The song gradually comes to a stop, making both of you calm down too. Kalim has one hand on your waist, the other still holding yours. You hold onto his shoulder, your noses touch, breaths coming in puffs, his eyes crinkle and it's warm, he's warm. Your chest follows his in it's rise and fall, your stomach does pirouettes, to the point you're dizzy, your cheeks feel hot. You start worrying you might have really gotten food poisoning from Lilia's cooking.

Before either of you say anything else, the sound of Cater's giggle burst your bubble, bringing you back to the real world. You whip your head to the door, watching as Lilia and Cater giggle deviously, Cater's fingers working fast on his cellphone's keyboard. You separate from Kalim's burning touch, your hands suddenly feeling cold, and stride up to them, demanding to look at what they found so funny. Lilia shows you, on his own phone, a videoclip of you and Kalim dancing together, nearing the end of the song. Your focus is initially on Kalim, as he glows, movements showing years of expertise, it's... beautiful. Then your gaze averts to yourself, and how, like you suspected, you were looking goofy near him, not matching the tempo at all.

You whine up at Cater again, asking him to delete the stories he posted, but he refuses, saying it was way too precious to miss. You lightly hit his chest and look up your lashes at him, pouting. His teasing expression falters, as if you were on the brink of convincing him. Lilia pulls you away and explains it was only on close friends anyway, so you needn't worry about the whole school seeing it. Kalim agrees that the video is very nice, beaming as he watches you two having fun. You sigh and give up, not having the heart to be a killjoy.

Lilia and Cater's hands are empty of any decorations, so you question them about it. Cater frowns exaggeratedly, drowning on dramatically on how they couldn't find any and how it was such a pity. Lilia covers his hand to hide a giggle, only making the action more obvious. Cater glares at him subtly. Kalim notices how the club's reserved time is almost coming to an end, deciding that to make a grand finale you should play an instrument, after all they should at least pretend they did something club related for you to report back to the Headmaster. And it'd be a lot of fun for you to play with them!

Lilia claps his hands together, agreeing it would be a most gleeful experience. He insists on teaching you how to play the bass, not wanting to hear whether you already knew how to or not. He gives you the instrument and shows how to hold it in the right way, trying to teach a few chords. It's a bit difficult to understand the confusing terms he uses, so he sighs and comes behind you, taking your hands in his and doing the movements, pressing his chest against your back, his deep voice right by your ear as he explains. You can't pay attention to it all, for some reason. You kind of feel dizzy again. Perhaps it's the food poisoning for real this time?

His fingers guide yours along the strings, gently pressing on the right spots, strumming the chords at the bridge. He murmurs the instructions, voice ressonating like the low pitch of the instrument, hot breath tickling your skin. You let him do as he pleases, dazed. The simple notes ring in your ears, lulling you into calmness, eyes closing as you let your sensations take the wheel, the frequency making your heart vibrate in your chest, as if dancing along, your head floating in the clouds.

It's all good and well until Lilia starts singing along. Or whatever it is that he calls "singing". In reality, he starts screaming some punk-rock lyrics right by your ear. Your heart jumps so quickly you swear you almost had an arrhythmia, your soul leaving your body for a second. Your eyes snap open so fast the lights from the classroom blind you and make black spots appear in your vision. You elbow Lilia in your surprise, thankfully making him stop trying to burst your eardrums. You get away, taking off the strap of the bass and giving it back to him. You think that's enough practicing for now.

Later on the day you confirm your food poisoning suspicions to be true. You've gained a new found respect for Sebek for enduring the poison Lilia calls cooking everyday and still managing to keep that impressive disposition of his. At least you helped the pop music club get more followers on magicam and spread their word out there. A bunch of people sign up to know the club, so you're all really happy! You felt like you've done a good job. (In the next week, the people arrive and see no sight of you, only of the dynamic trio. They don't show up again, leaving the members number back to it's original three.)

It was pretty fun, all things considered. You didn't get hurt other than in your pride and your social image, so it's a win in your books. Still, you're not sure you could handle their energetic and chaotic personalities combined like this evey week and risk getting deaf or suffering stomach failure. Time to check out other clubs.

(Cater comments on how the photos you took together got the most likes, insisting you come over again for a photoshoot. Kalim says he's got new songs to dance with you and that he's asked Jamil to help him cook for the next club meeting. Lilia tells you that you still have to take some more bass lessons to get the hang of it. Well, you suppose you could pass by sometime to be in the know about what goes on at the school and to get to prove Jamil's cooking. And to enjoy your friend's company, of course!)

Masterlist

#twst x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #trey clover x reader #rook hunt x reader #cater diamond x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #kalim al asim x reader #ortho shroud #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #new tumblr user angelizs lore drop: I used to be part of the theater club back at school #I did two years of it. I miss acting sm #Ortho and MC are the besties ever #Rook and Trey act like rivals from a shoujo manga lmao #I was inspired by the culinary crucible and decided to make MC suffer the same thing they make the judges go through: Lilia's cooking #oh and also by Lilia's ceremonial robes vignette #I've been dying to prove some awameh it looks so yummy. I want it too !!!!!!!#now I have smth to confess. I've had this written since 9/3. but once I've reached the board games club I got into a writer's block #and I wanted to post all the other clubs at once so I tried to write it and couldn't come up with anything good #and that's why I took so long to post pt2. bc I don't have the board games club written yet to this day 🤡#I'll try to write smth I'm satisfied with for them! until then pls enjoy pt2!#wonderland wonder

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months

Note

AITA for threatening to get my best friend sectioned?

This actually happened 2 years ago, but last night he made a joke about it that kind of seemed like he might still be mad at me about it. So. Anyway, ages and all are written as they were at the time.

For context, my (18m) mom took guardianship of my friend (17m), called “J”, after his grandfather passed, a few months before this happened.

Not going into specifics, but J has struggled with OCD and an ED for years, and I suspect when he’s an adult he’ll probably get diagnosed with Narcissistic Personality Disorder at some point.

(Update from the Present: no dice… yet.)

A close family friend of his passed away and it caused his mental issues (particularly the ED) to get a lot worse really quickly.

Even thought my mom was technically his guardian, she kind of relied on me to keep tabs on him because he’s usually pretty honest with me compared to other people. Like, if he’s not doing well, I have the best chance of finding that out.

So. His family friend dies, he gets worse, I report all of this back to my mom, who starts trying to get some sort of more intensive treatment lined up for him (difficult and time consuming because of where we lived at the time).

My mom tells me not to tell J, because he “talks a big game” about not wanting treatment or whatever and she firmly believes it’ll be easier if he doesn’t have time to stress himself out about it before it happens. Okay. So I don’t tell J.

Somehow, he finds out anyway, and also finds out that I knew and had chosen not to tell him, but doesn’t tell me that he knows. (Convoluted, I know, sorry.)

I pick J up from an after school thing one night, we end up talking about pretty heavy shit in the car for a /long/ time, and after the conversation died, he put a hand on my shoulder, leaned over, and kissed me. And like not a short kiss either. It was like a 3 to 4 second kiss.

Context again, I realized I was gay and that I liked J in a not particularly friend-like way when I was 13. I never told him and never planned on telling him. I told him a lot of things but I intended on growing old and dying with that one kept nice and secret. Even if he was some form of not-straight, which I was 99.99% sure he wasn’t, I didn’t think it was worth jeopardizing my closest friendship with romantic and/or sexual feelings that could at best confuse him or make him uncomfortable or at worst outright disgust him.

Anyway. We don’t talk about it, I end up going to stay for a few days with a guy (20m but not really relevant) I’d been sort of seeing/sleeping with for a couple months because I literally couldn’t be in the same house as J or I would probably implode.

Fast forward a week, I’m picking J up from a hospital 2 towns over because he ran away (? unclear really, haven’t discussed the particulars w him and I wasn’t staying at home at the time) and ended up having to go to the ER.

In the car (best time to talk to someone because they can’t run away), he apologizes for kissing me. I’m thrown off by that, because he hadn’t said anything up to this point and it honestly wasn’t even in the top 5 things I was thinking about.

I asked him why he did it and he just sighed and explained in this tone of voice that, I don’t know how to explain it, but had just the right lack of empathy or affect that I knew he was being 110% honest.

Condensed version: he found out I was reporting everything he told me to my mom (still don’t know how). He was pissed. He was aware he needed more intensive treatment, and he knew my mom was aware. He did not want treatment. He knew I had liked him for years. He knew that I was relatively fragile about it. He knew that if he did something (like kiss me for example) there was a good chance it would break my brain and I would freak out.

He essentially kissed me to decommission me for a few days so he could formulate a plan to run away.

FINALLY we have arrived at the AITA part.

After hearing all this, I tried very hard to come up with something rational to say, but ended up saying (essentially), “You’re fucking insane, and I’m telling my mother you need to be committed.”

I know I wasn’t wrong to be angry. But I also know from past knowledge and experiences that he had a deep fear of being deemed “insane” or unfixable or whatever, and also that he was really afraid of treatment in general.

Idk. I go back and forth on whether or not I was out of line, or needlessly escalating the situation, by threatening him. It was a much bigger threat in his mind than it was in mine, and so even though I know I said it as a reaction to a fucked up situation, there’s still the idea that I blew it completely out of proportion and weaponized his own mental issues against him.

So AITA for threatening my best friend by telling him I was going to get him committed to a long term psychiatric hospital?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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forlorn-crows · 2 months

Note

mountain sitting on dews face

what r ur thots 👁👁

oh i have thots 👀

how about a lil modified 69 with these silly horny guys?

Mountain’s balls draw up for about the third time since he sat his ass on Dew’s face. He can’t help it, though, not really. Not when that hot mouth suctions to his rim and his delightfully wet tongue delves unnaturally far inside.

His dick twitches, sending another drop of precum onto Dew’s clavicle. “Shit, sometimes I think just your tongue could make me cum,” he groans.

Dew pulls away and grips his asscheeks hard. “It has, big guy.” The smirk in his voice is obvious, even when Mountain’s facing away from him.

“Ugh, I meant right now, asshole.”

“I’m already in—”

Dew squeaks as Mountain grabs hold of his little dick and squeezes. It drools a fat glob of precum onto his knuckles, pearly and thick. He kicks his feet against the blankets with an undignified whine.

Mountain just sighs. Strokes his thumb through the mess he’s already made. “Fuck, why’re you so cute.”

“You are suffocating my di-i-ick fucking fucker—” he wheezes. That thumb presses further into his slit, pushing down the sensitive foreskin and rubbing over the width of the head. Mountain’s slow and antagonizing with it, doing it over and over until Dew groans bodily, right into his hole.

“Oh, Belial, do that again,” he gasps, mercifully releasing his dick.

“How ‘bout you ask me nicely.”

Mountain scoffs. “Pleeaase moan into my ass again?”

“Uh uh. Try again,” he teases, spitting straight up into his hole and rubbing over it with the pad of his finger.

“F-fuck—”

“Come on, Mount, why don’t you kiss it a little? Where’s that sweet-talk, hm?” Dew rolls his hips to bounce his cock in the earth ghoul’s face where he’s crumbled to his elbows.

He can’t help the whimper that falls from his lips. “Please. Wanna feel it,” he starts, genuine this time and much more needy.

“I’m listening.” Dew’s tone gets softer too. He swirls around his hole, watches it clench.

Mountain’s gasp fans hot over the head of Dew’s cock. “Gonna make you feel good so you moan and groan right into me.” He noses down the wet length and presses a kiss to the base. “Kiss you all sloppy here,” he mumbles.

“Shit, yeah?”

“Uh huh.” His lips wrap around the side of his shaft, as promised, tongue darting out to lick at the veins. Mixing saliva into the streaks of slick.

“Hnf, like that.” He bucks into it, balls bumping into the side of Mountain’s chin. “Fuck, sit down.” Dew digs his claws into his boney hips and forces him back onto his face, squarely onto his waiting tongue. Burying his nose between his cheeks.

Mountain whimpers. He grips the inside of Dew’s thighs and spreads them open. Migrating from the side of his cock to swallow the whole thing down in one go.

“Ffuuu,” Dew moans right where it counts. The earth ghoul can only respond with a dumb, gurgled sound. It’s a vicious echo chamber of cause and effect, each of their actions spurring on the other in a self-imploding horny cycle. It only takes a few more minutes of impassioned attention to Mountain’s hole to get him close again, balls drawing up and mouth dragging down Dew’s dick until he’s panting into his taint. Mushy-brained and fumbling for words.

“Gonna—D-Dew,” he struggles, thighs crushing into the smaller ghoul’s ribs. Dew presses that spot inside him again—with only his tongue, how is that only his tongue?—and Mountain wheezes. His cock bobs back and forth between his stomach and Dew’s chest, splattering them both with precum that just won’t stop.

Something that sounds vaguely like uh huh come on vibrates through his core, and that vocalization is what sends him over the edge, shooting onto the fire ghoul’s chest with a surprised shout.

“Sh-h-hit,” he hisses against Dew’s skin, nose pressing tight to his little balls until he whimpers too. Mountain twitches through shudder after shudder. He’s pretty sure he’s drooling on Dew, but his brain’s too empty to care.

“That’s it,” the fire ghoul coos, regaining his composure (and the upper hand). He rubs Mountain’s backside as he slowly goes limp, the bigger ghoul groaning louder when his cock finally makes contact with his own mess and grants him one last jolt of pleasure. Dew presses a kiss to his hole, tutting when it clenches. “Such a sensitive guy, aren’t you?”

Mountain gurgles something unintelligible.

“Yeah you are.” Sadist that he is, Dew slips his pinky into that puffy, spit-coated hole, prodding until he hits the spot. Wringing a breathy, feminine moan from Mountain that he’d surely be embarrassed about, if it weren’t for all of his self-consciousness shooting out of his dick along with his load.

He tuts again. “Be a fuckin’ shame to waste this nice wet ass, wouldn’t it?”

Mountain chirps, a questioning noise that’s almost comical, like a single question mark popping up above his head.

Dew smacks his ass. “Shove up, big boy, it’s my dick’s turn to be inside that tight hole.”

#ficlet #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost #mountaindew #dewdrop ghoul #mountain ghoul #mountain/dewdrop #dewdrop/mountain #mountain x dewdrop #ghost fanfic #dewdrop x mountain #by the way thank you for sending in a request! i really havent gotten one in a hot minute xx #if you wanted to know i was listening to a playlist called 'dirty nasty slutty metal' while finishing this up this am #mountain: king of cumming untouched #fanfic #if you see a typo you best tell me about it cause i didnt read this back over mkay

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buckymorelikefuckme · 1 year

Text

don't overdue it

bucky barnes x librarian reader

words: 850

a/n: it's not much but it's honest work *tips cowboy hat* not proofread! but big thanks to @brandycranby for taking a gander at it :') any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡

part 1 ❀

When Bucky returns to the library in the hopes of surprising you and maybe asking you to lunch, he is not prepared for the events that follow.

He's heading straight for the circulation desk, assuming that's where you'll be, but sweet, tinkering laughter pulls his attention to the left and he promptly trips over his own feet. Your hands are on the table in front of you as you lean into it. The way your spine curves should be a crime. It makes your ass stick out in an extremely enticing manner, and Bucky may have physical strength, but mentally he is weak.

The tennis skirt that peeks out from under your pink cardigan is… tiny. Are you allowed to wear something that short to work? Surely not. Right? Like, there has to be rules against everything currently happening, to keep innocent people from imploding at such a visual.

He watches as you turn your head to muffle fresh giggles into your shoulder, the women sitting around the table, who he's just now noticed, joining in. You press your finger to your lips, trying to shush them, but your frame shakes with the effort of keeping quiet.

He’s gonna give himself an aneurysm if he keeps imagining what it'd be like to stand behind you in that position, hands possessively on your hips, perhaps with less clothes between you.

By the time he shakes the mental image from his brain, you're walking away, waving to the women at the table as they push their chairs in. You turn a corner and he hurries to follow. He's determined, goddamnit. The flirting over text after your first date the other night has been cute and all, but he couldn't wait another minute to see you.

When he takes the same turn as you, entering an aisle of tall bookshelves, he trips over his feet for a second time. You're on a stepladder, stretched onto your tip-toes as you try to put a book away. Bucky has a clear view of the swell of your ass and the baby blue lace covering it beneath your skirt.

“Did I fall and slam my head into the ground? Am I dreaming?”

His voice startles you, making you wobble precariously. He strides over to steady you. It's only after he has your hips in a tight grip that he realizes what he's done, and yet he can't seem to remove his hands.

“Bucky,” you murmur in surprise, looking over your shoulder at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I wanted to ask you to lunch, but now I'm having very ungentlemanly thoughts and I think I should probably leave before I do something I’ll regret.”

Even though he says it, he makes no move to leave whatsoever.

Your small hands come to rest atop his. “Why don't you help me down, big guy?”

Bucky jolts into action, slowly guiding you off the ladder until you're on even flooring and smiling up at him, eyes twinkling in amusement. He drops his hands as he feels his ears go hot.

“Thank you.”

He nods. “You're welcome.”

You hold his stare for a moment, then tilt your head, letting out a soft giggle. He's pretty sure you're laughing at him, but he honestly couldn't care less, not if it makes you happy. He will gladly make an idiot of himself every single day if it means he gets to hear that adorable giggle.

“You're so cute,” you say with a sigh.

He blinks incredulously. “I’m cute? Have you seen yourself? You're like the CEO of Cute Patoot. You look like you mastered in Charming Everyone You Meet with a minor in Wooing Even the Crankiest of People. When you sneeze, thirty fairies get their wings. Every time you laugh you heal a blind person. Your smile could literally end wars. You—”

“Oh my god, stop,” you plead, laughing so hard you gasp for breath.

“You just gave sight to like, at least five people.”

You shove his shoulder as more laughter bubbles out of you. Bucky grins, powerless to stop himself. He's so far gone and you've only been on the one date. He's fucking screwed.

You manage to calm down, wiping at your eyes. “Didn't you mention something about lunch?” you ask.

“I did,” he confirms. “But honestly, all I wanna do now is kiss you for a little while. I could live off that for probably two days.”

You roll your eyes with a huff. “Not this again,” you mumble.

“I’m so serious.”

“I know you are, which is the absurd part of this whole situation,” you reply, shaking your head with a smile.

“How about this,” he starts, tangling his fingers with yours, “I’ll still take you to lunch, but only after I get a kiss.”

You groan playfully and it makes Bucky’s stomach tingle.

“Okay, okay, fine. One kiss.”

He refrains from clicking his heels and shouting yippee! but it's a near thing. The way you're looking at him makes him think you know anyway. Oh well. You're still leaning up to press your pouty lips against his, so who's winning?

#avengers fic #marvel fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

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foreverdolly · 2 years

Text

baby-bliss | daddy!austin butler x reader

summary: it's austin's first interview since the birth of his son, and he can't keep from gushing about you and your new bundle of joy. will he regret it later? most definitely. did it feel good? oh, absolutely. will he ever hear the end of it from you? probably not.

pairings: daddy!austin butler x mommy!reader

word count: 2,809

warnings/notes: this is just tooth aching fluff, austin is literally the best daddy ever, and he worships the ground that you walk on, he refers to you as "his ole' lady", i wrote this in record breaking time.

masterlist | requests are currently open for business !

It was physically painful to leave you and his newborn at home. It had been a month and a half of baby-bliss, and despite the fact that neither of you had gotten over five hours of sleep in weeks, part of him wished that it would never end. Austin had always known that he wanted to be a father, ever since he was a little boy. To say that his life now felt complete would be an understatement. Things felt perfect, and for the first time in his life, Austin was fully content. All good things must come to an end though, and so whenever his manager called him over the weekend to tell him about his upcoming interview, he wasn’t necessarily shocked- just disappointed. Leaving you, even if it was just for a few hours, seemed absolutely impossible. What if his son did something cute that he missed out on? What if the two of you fell asleep on the floor in the nursery again and he wasn’t there to take pictures of it? What if there was an emergency and you needed him? His protective instincts over you had always been pretty crazy, but now? He felt like he could lift a car if need be. Becoming a father had completely rewired his brain.

Austin was a nervous wreck as he walked out the front door, turning around to get one last look at you. “I’ll be home soon.” He assured you, watching as you smiled and nodded your head. “I know.” He started to make his way down the porch steps, stopping only to turn and face you once again. You had already started to close the front door. “Call me if you need anything, okay? I’ll have my ringer on the entire time.” He could hear you chuckle under your breath before you nodded your head, flashing him one last good look at the tiny bundle in your arms before shutting the door behind you. He groaned the entire way to the site. He just knew his son was doing something adorable without him there to see it. He could have thrown his phone the second that he checked it once he sat down in the makeup chair, seeing the pictures that you had already sent him. You had put the bear onesie on him- the one with the ears- and his heart nearly imploded.

“Do you want to see something cute?” He couldn’t help himself. He needed to get it off of chest now before he sat down for the actual interview. The makeup artist was patient enough with him to stop what she was doing, but was quick to grab his phone to get a better look once he showed her the pictures. Pride swelled in her chest as he watched her eyes widen, her pointer finger sliding from side to side as she went through each and every one you had sent. “Oh, he’s absolutely precious.” He took the phone from her whenever she handed it back. “Isn’t he? Look at this one,” He chuckled at the picture of him glaring at the camera, obviously very annoyed about you having the hood pulled up and over his little head. “This is my first time being away from them in a month.” he closed his eyes as she began brushing a sheer powder over his nose and forehead. She hummed as she closed the compact, taking a step back to get a better look at him. “Well you should be back with them in no time,” Once she had made sure that he looked matte enough for the bright camera lights she flashed him a kind smile. “When I had to leave my twins for the first time I thought that I was going to die. I understand how you feel completely.” He stood up from the chair, brushing out his light wash jeans before nervously running his thumb against his wedding ring. He twisted the gold band around and around his ring finger, taking a second to ground himself.

“So the new daddy finally leaves his cave.” Austin turned to face the source of the voice, wrinkling his nose at his manager’s teasing. The older woman walked up to him, giving him a tight hug. “Congratulations. y/n did absolutely phenomenal.” And god had you. For the first few weeks you had been horrified by the thought of unavoidable pain and had told him as well as your doctor that you would be having the baby in the hospital. You’d even gone as far as to have a consultation. As the months passed, so did your fear. Ever since you had first gotten pregnant you had gone a little crazy with making sure that everything was as clean and as safe as possible. You insisted on getting all of your produce from local farmers markets, made sure that next to nothing either of you ate came from a can, and threw anything away that might contain microplastics. When you had told Austin that you wanted to have an at home birth he had brushed it off as you just nesting. The weeks flew by, and your mind never changed. It wasn’t until the birthing tank was delivered to your house that it finally set in for him that you were really serious.

You delivered your son with absolutely no medication. Even the midwife was shocked by how well you handled everything.

Austin didn’t think it was possible for him to love you anymore than he already did, but the second he saw you holding his son? He knew for certain that he could never go even a second without you. He’d move heaven and earth for you. There was absolutely nothing that Austin wouldn’t do for you or provide for you. He reminded himself that this very reason was why he was at the interview in the first place.

“The ol’ lady did amazing.” He gushed, before he began to worry his bottom lip between his teeth. The faster he got this over with, the sooner he could be home with you. “Are they ready for me?” The woman nodded before ushering him through the hallway and into a tightly packed room.

The blue eyed man was familiar with the interviewer, and recognized her the second that he saw her. She was younger than he was, probably in her early twenties, and was most known amongst other actors for asking rather intrusive questions. Austin rolled his eyes, grabbing his manager by the arm and pulling her closer to his side. “Her? Really?” His manager’s eyebrows furrowed as she briefly made eye contact with the young woman across the room. “What’s wrong with her? I’ve heard she does great work.” She was quick to defend. Austin shook his head, leaning down closely to her ear so that he wasn’t overheard. “Did you see that interview she did with Tom Holland? If I were him, I would have stormed off camera.” The mousy haired brunette’s jaw dropped as she finally put two and two together. “I can see what I can do-” He cut her off by simply shaking his head, waving her off politely with his hand. It was too late now. He was already here, and the interviewer was staring at the two of them curiously now, no doubt wondering what they were whispering about.

He stalked over to the empty seat across from the young woman, being careful that his long legs didn’t get tangled up in any of the loose wires. “It’s nice to finally be able to meet you.” The woman reached a hand out, flashing him a bright white smile. He slowly returned the sentiment, extending his palm so that he could give her hand a quick shake.

After a few seconds of the crew moving the cameras around to get the best angle, the interviewer dropped her cue cards onto her lap, her lips pulling up into a dazzling smile. Austin shifted in his seat uncomfortably, dreading what was to come, but returned the smile nonetheless. “The Elvis biopic has finally made it to theaters after nearly three years of tireless work. I saw it with a few friends of mine the other night and was absolutely blown away by your performance.”

“Thank you so much. This has been such a rewarding experience, and it was an honor to work alongside Baz and Tom.” She nodded her head, her eyes flashing down to her lap for a second. It was obvious that she had some sort of an angle that she wanted to go with this interview- he just prayed that he had the patience for it. “The film was shot in Australia, so I know that you had to largely uproot a lot of your life in order to prepare. How hard was it to upkeep personal relationships during that time- especially with Covid.” Her perky voice was grating. He was functioning off of three hours of sleep, and he could already feel a headache coming on.

“Covid made everything a lot harder, but it wasn’t too difficult. I made sure to call my friends and family on a regular basis, so it wasn’t too bad. It was sad not being able to visit California as much as I would have liked to during that time, but it also gave me the opportunity to go more method with the role as well. Everyone’s reaction to the accent for the first couple of weeks was pretty funny. I wanted to make it sound as natural as possible though, so I kept up with it.” He smiled through the question, folding one leg over the other as he leaned his back against the folding chair.

“Your girlfriend went with you to Australia, right? I follow you both on your socials, and her pictures always make me smile.” His eye nearly twitched, but he schooled a sweet smile on his face. “Wife.” He corrected her gently. The woman’s eyes widened and she was quick to try and recover. “Wife, wife- right! Speaking of that, congratulations are in order.” You and Austin had thought about keeping the pregnancy as private as possible, but after the first few months the two of you were bursting at the seams. By the end of it all, it was all you two could really talk or post about. The same thing goes with all of your close friends and family. His best friend, Ashley Tisdale, had visited again last night and had posted at least ten pictures of the three of you on her Instagram story. You were both first time parents, and you wanted to get the full experience. Despite the fact that most of the people that messaged him to extend their love and excitement for him were strangers, it still felt great.

He was willing to talk about his son, as long as the questions stayed respectful. “Thank you,” He couldn’t wipe the excited smile off of his face, staring down at his hands for a few seconds before glancing back up at the interviewer. “We’re both over the moon. It’s been a huge change to our lives, but a good one.”

“Well I’ve seen a few pictures and he’s beautiful. He’s a perfect mix of the both of you. He’s got your forehead and nose.” A genuine laugh bubbled out of his throat, and the other woman seemed to feed off his excitement, happy that the interview was naturally progressing into something a little more feel-good than anybody was anticipating.

“That’s what I keep telling y/n! The second that he opened his eyes I thought I would die though. I have a feeling he’s going to look more like her as he gets older, so I’m enjoying him being my little twin while it lasts. She’s the most gorgeous person on the planet though, so I wouldn’t be too upset about it.” His tiny features had been a constant source of teasing over the last month. You claimed that your son looked more like you than he did him, but Austin begged to differ. He would be sure to gloat about this once he got back home to you.

“Was it hard juggling everything though? I mean. . . playing the leading role in such an important film all while your wife is pregnant must be stressful.” The young woman was beginning to grow on him. He usually didn’t answer questions this personal, but she had caught him during a time when he wanted to gush about his life. Would he regret saying so much later? Oh, definitely. For now though, he was content with bragging about you.

“I’m sure she was upset about the long days without me, especially during the earlier stages, but she never let it show. She can get rather nervous at times- really get in her own head about things- but she was great the entire time. Really, really great.”

“And hey- natural birth, right?”

He beamed, nodding his head quickly. “Natural birth. She’s an absolute god. I’ve heard about dads getting phantom pains, but I never really believed in any of it.” The young woman was already laughing, and Austin began chuckling right along with her, placing a hand against his stomach as he remembered how awful he had felt during the majority of the delivery. “Oh god, the sympathetic pregnancy symptoms were real for me.”

“Well I’m sure you guys must be good with just one child for now, right?” She threw her head back with laughter as he shook his head animatedly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Us? No way. We want an entire Butler tribe. Our goal is to populate a small village.” He could see his manager covering her mouth to stifle her own laughter at his teasing.

“Well it was a delight to finally get to meet you. You guys need to see Austin Butler in the role of Elvis if you haven’t already. It’s in theaters everywhere, so make sure you get your tickets now. Seats are filling up fast.” Austin gave one final wave to the camera before the cameraman loudly called ‘cut’.

“Thank you for your time.” The interviewer shook his hand one last time before he walked over to his manager’s side. “See? Painless.” He hated to admit it, but she was right. He was in and out in just under an hour and a half, which was better than he could have hoped for. “I don’t have anything else scheduled, right?” He asked hopefully. The second that the woman shook her head he was practically jogging through the halls and out into the parking lot. He wanted to catch you before you put the baby down for his nap.

You were shocked when you heard the front door open, Austin’s voice calling up to you from the living room downstairs. “Baby one and baby two! I’m home!” You rolled your eyes, slowly making your way down the stairs. “I’ve been trying to get him to go to sleep for the last half hour, but he’s wired.” Austin was quick to take him off of your hands, giving his fuzzy head kiss after kiss. “Oh, I missed his smell.” With gentle hands Austin pulled his son away from his chest, holding the small infant out in front of him so that he could get a good look. You still had him bundled up in the onesie. Your husband was quick to look at you, his bottom lip jutting out in a small pout. “How can something be this cute? Hey buddy. Were you a good boy for mama while I was gone?” His constant baby talking made you chuckle. “You didn’t pull her hair, did you? We talked about that yesterday.” The interview was posted the next day, the internet practically exploding with new hashtags, screen grabs, and reposted pictures of you and your small family. Austin spent the entire morning mumbling his apologies for being so personal in the interview, but you didn’t mind much. It felt good to know that everyone saw what a terrific father he was. What a terrific husband. “New daddy alert! Austin Butler gushes over son in latest interview.” You read one of the article titles out loud, hearing him groan from the other room. You scrolled through your phone for a couple more seconds before you found what you were looking for. “Austin Butler calls his wife a ‘god’ after the natural birth of his son.” You could hear your baby cooing from the other room. “I get it! I get it! You can stop with the news articles.” He called out over the sound of the running bath. “Daddy Austin Butler is a whole snack. Women are going crazy after the latest Elvis-” “Stop it, woman!”

the prequel to this fic is now posted !

#austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #daddy austin butler #dad austin butler #elvis 2022 #austin butler one shot #austin!elvis x reader #imagine #austin butler fluff #austin butler fanfiction #foreverdolly

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queenie-ofthe-void · 23 days

Text

Here's a crack Stobin idea

It's platonic Hanahaki by instead of puking flowers, it's migraines and mind reading.

***

After they're injected with the same experimental mystery drugs in the Russian spy bunker, Steve wakes up two days later with a killer headache.

Must be the concussion.

Except throughout the day it gets worse, worse than his migraines after his fight with Billy. He tries to go to sleep early, but the pain's so intense he seriously thinks his head might implode.

Does he call Robin?

They aren't what he'd call friends. But they survived torture together, so that has to mean something, right?

No, he decides. She's got her own problems and it's almost midnight.

He's up, can't sleep. At 6:30am he wraps an ice pack around his head and sits in a warm bath. At 7:30am he's throwing up water and bile. By 9am he's got a bloody nose and he's popped a blood vessel in his right eye. Just as he's about to pick up the phone, there's knocking on his front door that feels like a hammer to his skull.

Robin's on the front stoop, the front of her Fleetwood Mac sleep shirt covered in drops of blood and she's holding a wad of napkins to her face. She's crying and practically collapses into his arms.

The pain recedes so quickly he gasps. He didn't realize how difficult it was to breathe. The sharp stabbing behind his eyes is gone and it feels like he hasn't eaten in days.

Robin's still holding his shoulder, looking at him with wide eyes. She moves the napkins and even though her face is a mess of dried blood it's clear the bleeding has stopped.

"Steve, what's going on?"

"How the hell should I know?"

Her hand slips from his shoulder as he backs into the house, and suddenly the pain's creeping back in. It's minimal compared to before. Robin grabs his hand again and the pain recedes.

He looks up and she's staring at him wide eyed, mouth hanging open like a fish.

"I do not look like a fish!" Robin scoffs.

He didn't say that.

"Oh holy shit you didn't say that!" she practically screams at him.

She grips his other hand, squeezing them both tight as they stare into each other's panicked eyes.

Oh my god playing on loop between them, yet Robin's mouth isn't moving and he's pretty sure his is closed.

Can we read minds?

I have no idea Steven I've never done this before! You're the freaky stuff expert.

It's called the upside down Robs.

He's so bitchy.

I'm not bitchy!

"OK we have to stop this," Robin finally says. He knows she said it. He saw her mouth move and everything.

"Jesus I'm not sure I can handle your brain Harrington I've already got enough going on up here on my own."

"Yeah tell me about it," he replies as he thinks about her rambling about nothing for hours on end during shared shifts.

Robin sighs, squeezing his hands again as she scuffs her shoes on the white tile.

For what it's worth, I like your rambling.

I light smile ghosts her face. He always feels better when she's smiling, and that gets a wet chuckle from her as she wipes her teary eyes.

"Ok," Robin says, putting her game face on. "We're going to figure this out and I've got some ideas."

#it's platonic hanahaki but also it's not??#it's “what if the Russian serum plotline actually meant something”#platonic stobin #mind reading #platonic soulmates stobin #stobin ficlet #stobin #stobin prompt #steve harrington #robin buckely #stranger things s3 #stranger things #QueenieWritesStories

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smut-angel · 2 years

Text

learning curve

warnings: age gap (45 y/o x 23 y/o), cis! fem (black) reader, dry humping, kissing, cursing, mention of masturbation, virgin! reader

18+ only

reblogs & comments are highly encouraged!

tags: @celestianstars

“was that okay?” you ask meekly. it was just a simple peck- 15 seconds that nearly made you dizzy. frank nods, biting his lip trying to hold down a large grin. “yeah, that was nice,” he replies softly, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. he leans in again, teasing you as his nose softly grazes against your own, your lips open, desperate to touch his again. finally, he breaks the gap and pecks your lips. soon, the pecks form into kisses of longing and desire.

“bet the guys at school are lining up for you,” he said, seemingly out of nowhere.

“no, definitely not. guys at school don’t want me, i’m not their type.”

“no way. you’re a pretty girl…hell, you’re my type.” the usual confidence in his voice began to dip as he realized he was speaking to his best friend’s 23 year old daughter. quickly, he broke eye contact with you, looking down at his boots, trying to think of a way to backtrack on his words.

“i’m your type?” you ask him, fiddling with your cuticles.

“i mean, yeah… if i were younger, of course.”

“guys my age aren’t into me… i haven’t even kissed anyone,” you confessed. you weren’t sure why you even mentioned the kissing part, it just felt like something he should know.

“bullshit!” frank exclaimed.

“i’m serious!”

“you’re 23 and never kissed anyone?” frank was in true disbelief.

“i’m a late bloomer,” you shrugged. before you knew it, frank was offering to teach you how to kiss properly.

“okay,” he says after pulling away. you feel yourself begin to frown at the emptiness that now hovers over your lips. “this is the part where you use your tongue,” he says slowly. “are you okay with that?” you nod a bit too eagerly, making frank chuckle a bit. this time, you lean into him first, capturing his lips smoothly as you’ve gotten used to the feeling. suddenly, his tongue grazes your bottom lip.

as you gasp, he slips the pink muscle expertly inside your mouth. you moan quietly as your pussy begins heats up at the new sensations. naturally, your fingers wrap around his neck and play through his dark curls. the wet sounds of your lips and tongue smacking and colliding made frank’s cock twitch and you more and more damp by the second. somehow, the kiss gets deeper, and frank’s large hand hooks around your waist. you take this opportunity to get closer to him, pushing him back into the couch, throwing you leg over his lap as you now hung over him.

“guess you’re getting the hang of it,” he says after pulling away for air. you both laugh, going at each other’s mouths again. you can't help but to rock your hips a bit while the pads of his thumbs rub on on each side of your waist.

he tests the waters by lifting the hem of your shirt up a few inches, and running his hands a bit farther down your back until they’re both planted on your ass. the more parts of your skin touched the more flustered you became. the coarseness of his beard on your cheeks, his calloused hands and rough fingertips on your hips, his soft curls between your fingers. he faintly tasted like bubblegum and morning cigarettes. you’ve never been this intimate with anyone and every second of it was driving you wild. you could feel every small hair on your arms standing at attention. your body felt like it could implode in ecstasy at any moment.

“i need you,” you whisper, foreheads pressed against each other’s, both out of breath from the sloppy kisses.

“we can’t,” he says after a peck of your now swollen lips. you exhale, your hips bucking even more as you now sit up straight over top of his groin. it was as if your brain was in a fog of horniness. you wanted nothing more but for him to rip your clothes off and have his way with you, but your anxiousness to this new world of intimacy and lust made you hesitant.

“god, you’re so pretty,” frank groans, watching you grind on him. “so desperate for me.” like clockwork you felt his erection rise, relieving you slightly of the emptiness that haunted the wetness between your thighs. your sex ached as it clenched around nothing; the friction between your shorts and his rough work jeans on your clit made your body shiver.

frank had never done anything like this before. he’d never thought of dry humping, not even in a fantasy. but being alone here with you, the thrill of your parents coming home at any second but you both being too needy and full of lust to care that it resorted to humping each other in jeans made him deliriously horny. indulging in this, frank began to thrust back into you, imagining himself inside of your plush pussy; how soft and tight you would feel.

“feels…nngh- feels so good, frankie.” your voice was nearly in a whisper; he frowned at the way you were holding back. your teeth captured your bottom lip and your eyes were closed tightly causing your face to scrunch up a bit.

“look at me,” he commanded. frank’s deep voice caused you to follow his directions. his hands gripped your waist even tighter causing you to arch your back. “i wanna hear you. i wanna hear everything.” it was as if frank had a remote control that sent a signal straight to your heat. you moaned on queue as if he had pressed a button to make you do so.

he was so fucking hot like this. underneath you, yet having so much control over you. his dark eyes bore right through yours, feeling like he could see every time you masturbated to the sheer thought of him. his lip twitched upwards, now amused at how loud you were becoming.

“i w-wish you could feel how wet i am,” you confessed.

“you’re so fucking naughty, aren’t you?” he teased, gripping the back of your neck. his tongue danced down your jaw and stopped at your neck where he began to suck at your skin ferociously. this new sensation caused your hips to jolt and mouth to hang open as more erotic sounds began to leak from your lips.

“jesus fucking christ!” you screamed, gripping his hair so hard that his scalp began to tingle. releasing from your neck, frank licked at your clavicle, then back up towards you jaw until his lips were on yours again. his hands found his way to your breasts which you welcomed as you put your own hand over his, feeling the way he massaged and squeezed at them.

teeth clashed as you swallowed one another’s moans. you two humped at each other like animals; sweaty, loud and relentless. your clit began to throb at the pace of a quickened heartbeat. you embraced the familiar feeling, your hips bucking wildly as you chased the impending orgasm.

“frank, i’m- i’m so close! i’m so fucking close!” he held you tighter, the friction of his hardened cock through the denim becoming even more apparent underneath your aching bud.

“cum with me, pretty girl,” frank said through staggered breaths, “cum with me.” again, as if under a spell, you follow his words, your orgasm crashing over you as you quivered and squealed at the sweet release. frank’s heavy groans were muffled in the nape of your neck, which he kissed and nipped at even more once recovering from the aftershocks of his own ecstasy spilling over him.

the smell of sex began to hang in the air, bringing you both to reality. quickly, you leap from frank’s lap, pulling down your shorts as they now felt uncomfortable paired with your sticky panties. frank let out a fake cough, standing to his feet and fixing his shirt, making sure he looked at everything except your eyes.

“tell your dad i’ll be back next weekend to finish the truck, alright?”

“y-yeah. i will.” without another word, frank let himself out. the sound of his engine came through the walls of the quiet house. you stood there, although fully clothed, feeling naked and vulnerable. what the fuck just happened?

#jon bernthal #frank castle smut #dbf! frank castle #jon bernthal smut #the punisher #the punisher smut #frank castle x reader #jon bernthal x reader #frank castle x you #jon bernthal x you #frank castle blurb #frank castle x black reader #jon bernthal x black reader #minors dni

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lovelyhan · 1 year

Note

can i request like a friend's with benefits situation with hoshi?

i haven't written for hoshi at ALL so yes, this is perfect!! <3 that, and fwb is literally my favorite trope (next to enemies/exes to lovers heh)

⟣ friends with benefits hoshi ⟢ wc: 0.9k words minors do not interact!

You've always thought Soonyoung wasn't all that different from the sun.

He's often described as this big ball of energy who can't really contain all of it inside his own body. A similar thought crossed your mind when you were paired up with him for a class during freshman year, and when you inevitably found out he was a dancer, you weren't even surprised anymore.

His performances are a good way to channel all that vigor so he won't implode because of his own liveliness. Soonyoung was ridiculously talkative on his own, but when he gets to express himself through graceful yet precise movements? It's a different kind of mesmerizing.

You didn't really think you'd get to see him again since the class you shared already concluded last semester. But after finding out that Soonyoung often goes busking in the university quad with his friends, you're loath to admit that you've become a part of their regular audience.

You thought you could just watch him snap his body to the beat of whatever song they're performing in peace like always. Not like you expected campus crush Kwon Soonyoung to remember you when you don't even take the same degree program.

But right after their mid-semester performance, Soonyoung sprints towards your retreating form, yanking your arm back with an intensity that makes you yelp in surprise.

"Hey!" He beams, loosening his grip when he's sure you're not going anywhere. "You've been coming to our performances a lot. You were my partner in Lit class, right?"

You stare at him inquisitively, wary of the odd looks being thrown your way as you and Soonyoung stand in front of the main building's entrance.

"Uh," you start, bouncing on the balls of your feet. "Yeah. I didn't think you'd remember."

Soonyoung gasps like you just made an offensive joke. "Why would I forget someone as pretty as you?"

You aren't one to keep tabs on other people you go to school with, but you know, for one, that Soonyoung doesn't have a reputation for wooing people with cheesy pick-up lines.

No, he was too wrapped up in putting together the best dance routines and choreographies his perpetually buzzing brain could come up with to even spare a thought about flirting with other people. This is something you've come to understand more and more the longer you are into your friendship with Soonyoung.

But if that's really the case...

"You're so, so pretty. Have I told you that?"

Soonyoung's breath is hot against your ear as his fingers trail up the intricate scaffold of your spine—making you shiver as he latches his lips onto the cut of your jaw.

"Only a dozen and a half times," you sigh, carding your fingers through his newly bleached hair. White suits him a bit too much, you think. "Don't you have any more compliments up your sleeve? That's kind of getting old."

His laughter vibrates against his chest as he crowds you further up the wall of the nightclub where he's decided to pounce on you tonight. This isn't the first time Soonyoung has pulled you a bit too close, giving a bit too sultry kisses for mere friends to share, but the thought still stands.

He is the sun, and you're no different from Icarus the damned.

You aren't sure what it is that's giving your head a pleasant buzz—the alcohol, the music, Soonyoung's fingers buried inside your sopping cunt, or a combination of all three.

He's always so eager, so desperate to see you crumble beneath his touch, that when he presses your foreheads together to stare at you with a look that's not so different from a man in love, you nearly fool yourself into thinking that...whatever you have with him is more than what it actually is.

"Soooo fucking pretty," Soonyoung whispers, curling his fingers in a way that has you clinging onto him like your life depended on it. "I love how wet you always are; how tight you always get for me."

"Then f-fuck me already, Soonie," you whimper, nails raking across his designer jacket as his fingers graze the sensitive patch of flesh inside you. "Not like you haven't done that here already."

Soonyoung lets out another low-pitched laugh before capturing your lips again, framing the syllables of your name with a fondness that's always been there, but one you repeatedly chose to ignore.

You're lucky enough to be tangled up with one of the hottest fucking guys in your university. You're not about to push your luck and ponder getting anything more from him.

He's always been a giver. When Soonyoung makes you cream on his fingers, all he does is lick your essence off each digit before kissing you again—pulling away before you can even offer to get on your knees for him here on the dingy floor.

"Just seeing you all wrecked for me is enough," he snickers, despite the bulge straining against his jeans. "Enjoy the rest of the night, pretty."

When he walks back into the dancefloor, he's no different from the boy that caught your attention in the quad all those years ago. Dancing and moving to the rhythm like he hasn't just thrown you off of yours when he fingered you out in the open.

No matter how many times Soonyoung calls you pretty, you can't help but think that he'll always be more worthy of the title.

But you deliberately choose not to stare at him all night like some sort of lovesick damsel. You know better than that.

Stare at the sun for too long, and you'll go blind.

⟢ end notes: hoshi as the overly attached half of the fwb set-up and reader as the in-denial half, so true <3 i like to think that he's the type to have no problem expressing these tiny notes of affection, but at the same time is kind of oblivious as to what those words/actions really entail so reader gets a bit over her head abt it sometimes. hoshi is a lil unaware like that, i'm afraid.

#svthub #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen hoshi #hoshi smut #soonyoung smut #hoshi x reader #📝 drabble #💭 request #lovelyhan

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bloodypeachblog · 11 months

Note

You got any daddy Sammy Headcanons?

You fucking bet I do!

Sammy Lawrence headcanons

(This is with F!Reader, btw)

~~~♡♡♡~~~

• Sometimes his personality when he was human can show when something doesn't go right or his way or he's just annoyed. He can be a real asshole when he's like that. But if he upsets you, he would apologize later.

�� the instance you responded to his 'can I get an amen?' tape with an 'amen', he fell for you almost instantly. He knew that his savior has blessed him with you, you had to be his bride. He waits til you fall asleep and he carries you to his room. You're his now.

• the songs he writes for you? Oh so lovely and romantic. He even plays them on his banjo and sings them for you.

• when he likes you, he can get a bit flustered and tongue-tied at times. When you've been together for a long time, he gets a bit better with that, but his inky heart still flutters when he sees you and hears your voice.

• if you can't sleep, he would sing you a lullaby or tell you a story from his bible (he wrote one where it's basically the christian bible, but Bendy is Jesus) until you fall asleep.

• he lets you join him on his searches for sacrifices and sometimes lets you choose their fates. They'll still die, but you get to choose how they die.

• Total. Drama. Queen. But not in a way that'd make you hate him, more in the way where you can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

• guy's mind is stuck in the 1920-1930's, so if you show him something like, an iPhone, or you dress in modern clothing, his brain would probably implode.

• he LOVES listening to you read passages from his bible during sermons. He just marvels your words and pays very close attention. You could see a big smile though his mask.

• the same goes vice versa, he speaks with such energy and dedication and he smiles to himself when he sees you're just so enthralled by his preaching.

• basically when he speaks about you, he's exactly how Gomez Addams talks about Morticia. He ADORES you.

• "I would die for her. I would kill for her. Either way, what bliss." "To think, Lord Bendy has blessed me with such a beautiful angel such as yourself." "To live without you, only that would be death." "I cannot see, I am blinded by such beauty."

• pet names: Darling, Love, Angel, my little lamb, my sweet, Dear, Dearest.

♡NSFW♡

• master of seduction. Just, pure incubus skills. His soft voice makes you melt, and he knows it.

• oh he is all for foreplay. He wants his little pet to be ready for him.

• his cock is about 6 inches and pretty thick, but that's thanks to the blessings of the ink.

• *psst!* if he wanted, he could grow two of them to double-penetrate you, but he'll immediately pass out once he cums because it takes twice the energy, so he doesn't do it often.

• he wouldn't exactly whisper dirty words, but the way he phrases things...

• "don't be afraid, it's what our Lord wishes. We wouldn't want to disappoint him, now would we?" "You're so wet for me, how sweet.." "I'm so blessed that you're mine.." "You're doing so well, love..." "Just relax and let us share this bliss that our Lord has blessed us with." "Perhaps Lord Bendy will bless us with little sheep of our own tonight.."

• kinks? Well...he does like tying you up nice and tight. Can't let the little lamb run off, can he? No, he cannot. He has a praise kink, where he just loves to praise you for being such a good little wife.

• he LOVES to tease you and make you beg for him. The grin and deep chuckle he lets out from hearing your begs will make you melt.

• he'll make sure you cum a few times before he does. You'll be putty in his hands when he's done with you.

• yes, he cuddles you during the afterglow. He also whispers loving words into your ear, making sure you feel loved and cherished, because you are.

#batim sammy lawrence #batim #batim smut #batim sammy headcanons #sammy lawrence headcanons #sammy lawrence x reader #sammy lawrence #whoo mama #hallelujah #praise be unto him #all praise our lord and savior bendy

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lansplaining · 11 months

Note

So how do we know JC was banned by matchmakers? Like is this another rumor thing that has taken on a life of its own or is this like a fun fact thing. I’ve been seeing people trying to use his banning as proof of being a terrible person but I’m not sure where it’s stated. Like I wouldn’t be surprised if JC just said he doesn’t have time for matchmaking and it took on a life of its own in the gossip world.

I don't have the reference to hand, but I'm pretty sure it was a passing comment/joke in either an interview or author's note while the novel was first serializing. so it's never actually said by a character in canon, and I personally tend to take interview/author's note comments like that as at least 50% joke

also like, the second one starts thinking too seriously about the marriage economy of this world, the faster your brain will absolutely implode. first off: an entire generation of clan leaders that have failed to marry? absolutely no social pressure on any of them to do so? ooookay. how are these clans going to be continuing as clans, again?

secondly, even if we imagine that Jiang Cheng somehow offended every matchmaker... there will, no matter what, be Yao-guniangs of the world who will marry a rich, powerful, wealthy sect leader no matter his supposed personality. there is no realistic world where matchmakers would not continue working to pair up Jiang Cheng if he wanted no matter what he did.

#ask answered #it's a funny joke but like #it literally makes no sense as actual worldbuilding

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how-masterful · 10 months

Text

Chaos

Missy X Reader, Dhawan!Master x Reader

Summary: It's a late night after an eventful day, and in your exhaustion you muse about the Master and his chaos. But the chaos is seemingly just beginning. Notes: Here we are! The fourth annual birthday fic in a row for @plethora-of-imagines! And my first fic in a while! It's been both fun and frustrating getting back into writing, but i'm pretty happy with how this turned out- and where i'm planning for it to go! Don't worry plethora, you'll get your joust soon! Enjoy! (Also reader note, there's mention of Delgado!Master X Reader in here too, just in case that's not your thing!)

To finally rest your head upon a pillow was bliss. The aches and pains of the day that held tight within your bones seemed to melt into the plush duvet, dispersing from your body and leaving you nothing more than an exhausted husk. Today, as ever, had been far more eventful than any plan the Master's brain (or brains? You still weren't so sure about that one) could create.

It seemed these days, even the simplest of visits would end in a universe threatening scenario- whether it was indeed the Master threatening the universe himself was often a flip of a coin. Chaos trailed behind the Master like a shadow, a tangible shred in the fabric of the universe. No matter his reason for visiting, whatever planet he dared to step his foot onto could never be left in the same state. His compulsion for chaos prevented it. He left destruction like footprints in the sand.

You adored it. You adored him. But some days the chaos felt just that- chaos. A heavy weight that made you crave nothing more than a good night's rest.

You sighed deep into your pillow, turning onto your side as you let out a hefty sigh. Even today, what had started as a simple visit to a museum had ended with utter destruction and you being banished from a whole subsection of space. The Master had, perhaps overnight, developed a strong passion for the correct and morally appropriate relocation of artifacts to their home planets, instead of keeping them in museums on the opposite side of space. From memory, you recalled musing about how strange this new desire was, how… benevolent. The shelves in his own office were crammed and sagging in the middle from the weight of all his stolen keepsakes. Since when was he so bothered about things being where they belonged?

Then you noticed the dangerous twinkle in his eye, his hand stretching outwards to grasp hold of your own, his electrifying touch leading you down the exhibition hall and towards the large glass cabinet housing a weapon of, when put bluntly, targeted mass destruction on a single planetary scale.

The Master's moral mission to return the artifact had been nothing more than a vehicle for destruction-the weapon was specially designed to implode the planet the moment it made contact with its unique outer crust, which was why the museum across the stars kept it in the first place. To prevent destruction. To show the universe such chaos must be prevented. Be contained. But with the shatter of glass, and a dastardly smile, the Master had taken it into his hands to wipe that planet from the map.

“That's what they get for working with the Grand Serpent.”

He’d grinned, watching the fire from the safety of his TARDIS, one hand upon your thigh, another bringing his teacup to his lips. He’d never been fond of that slimy old copycat. You’d smiled and sipped from your own cup in return, the curl of smoke in your nostrils a familiar and oddly comforting smell.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the darkness of your own head far more comforting than the darkness of the room. Sleep had begun to sink deep within your limbs, a welcomed relaxation as opposed to your mental debate.

The chaos, as he’d once said, was a wonderful thing. It was routine yet also unique, that strange unicorn of a lifestyle that tinged the edges of everything you knew. Chaos brewed itself in the smallest of fashions and grandest of scales. Cushions that didn’t match, eclectic mugs that filled up the cabinets, mountains of books yanked from the library and piled in precarious structures, minefields of abandoned and temperamental experimental devices that could go off at any moment scattered around the various labs in the TARDIS.

But it shone deep from within the Master's eyes, his deep browns a perilous vortex you could find yourself falling into at a moment's notice, never wishing to crawl free of him. He was a harbinger of chaos, a walking weapon of catastrophe, anarchy at his fingertips. He could send your body and soul into a frenzy as easy as destroying a dynasty. You could never want him any less.

Sometimes, however, it all became too much to handle. You needed much more rest than the Timelord could bring himself to want, need or take with the amount of adrenaline running through his system. With a kiss to your forehead, a promise to return, and a request to take full advantage of the luxuriously comfy hotel bed, the Master had returned to the labyrinth you’d lovingly called ‘The Timeline Club’- once more meeting with his former self to discuss new business. Business it was essential they’d both be able to remember.

The other Master had started to become a more prevalent part of your existence, arriving to join your plans on occasion, arriving to join your more personal excursions even more. The Master, your Master, with his wide smile and eyes that could soften to a dangerously innocent doe eyed look, had taken such pride in how willing you were to get to know his former self… intimately. A boost to the ego that could never be matched: No matter what body he was in, it seemed you were destined to find it ridiculously attractive- and you weren’t inclined to argue with his hypothesis, considering the other Masters' visits often ended in you providing damning evidence.

The long curtains that hung beside the wide window began to softly sway, caught in a gentle breeze as your brain began to slow, allowing your thoughts to soften. You’d once suggested to your Master, well, Masters now, that you'd felt an ‘off’ button to your brain would be far more effective in getting the amount of sleep you needed when running on such a tight schedule. Your younger Master (definitely younger, despite looking like he should have been the older Master- much like the brains, it was awfully confusing) had a penchant for that sort of thing, his words were able to guide you to such a wonderful rest in less than a minute. Hard as you tried, no sleep you could muster on your own had yet compared to his.

Making a space for him had been almost as easy as breathing. He was so different to your Master, so refined and stoic, yet the hold he had upon you was exactly the same. Your apprehension upon your first meeting had disappeared with the same ease that your mind had now disappeared into a needed slumber.

That was, until, you heard it. Your eyes barely cracked open at the familiar groan. The groan of the TARDIS, wheezing and phasing into existence. The breeze upon the curtains had swelled into a storm, the fabric billowing as the furniture began to lightly rattle, the cool wind snatching away the warmth of sleep you’d worked so hard to find.

You sat up slowly in bed, pushing the covers back with balled fists as the TARDIS finally materialized upon the far wall of the hotel room, taking the shape of an elaborate wardrobe, swirling carvings of hissing snakes deep within the mahogany wood.

“Master,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes. “You said you’d be hours, I've only just got in bed.”

The door to the wardrobe swung open, light piercing through the gap and bathing the room in a fierce purple glow. You squinted hard, your eyebrows furrowing. The Master's tardis had a red console unit light.

“Did you change the console room again?” You mumbled, rolling your shoulders. The ache from earlier in the day had finally returned to your joints.

There came no reply from within. Except for the slow click of high heels upon metal inching closer and closer.

“Master?”

“Not quite.”

A figure emerged, bathed in shadow, breaking the glow of the TARDIS with her silhouette. Her voice, a Scottish lilt, made your eyes snap wide open.

“But you’re not far off.”

The other wardrobe door opened, and the figure stepped out of the TARDIS and into the light. Her long brown hair was fashioned into a messy updo of curls, her piercing eyes precisely lined with deep black liner. A pale broach sat perfectly within her white collar upon her throat, her long purple skirt covered by a matching purple jacket, the tops of her sleeves puffing out like a victorian. She smiled darkly with her red rouged lips, brandishing a slender black umbrella in one hand, its metal tip digging into the carpet.

“My my, what big eyes you have.” She teased, stepping closer in her black leather heels.

“All the better to gawk and say ‘what the hell is going on?’ without actually saying anything.”

You inched back slowly, hand carefully creeping towards your phone on the nightstand. The intruder's gaze caught you immediately. She tutted lightly, before raising the umbrella in her grasp and aiming it at your phone. With a loud hiss, the phone jumped from the table and clattered to the floor, an involuntary yelp escaping you.

“That’ll do you no good, dearie.” She teased, shaking her head.

“There's no use calling him, there's no danger. He wouldn’t be so self sabotaging. I should know.”

“Who are you?” You snapped.

The intruder giggled, raising her free hand teasingly to her lips.

“Oh, he hasn’t told you? Typical men, always wanting to keep their shiny things to themselves. Such a boys club, isn’t it?”

“Answer the question.”

“I am!” The intruder replied, gesturing exasperatedly.

“No, you’re really not.”

“Uh, I really am. I’m providing indirect answers through context clues masked with sarcastic commentary! C’mon poppet, you’re letting the side down here.”

You pressed your lips together in a tight line, narrowing your gaze towards the strange woman.

The intruder sighed dramatically, placing her hands on her hips.

“Wow. He really didn’t tell you who I am? I’m offended. Seriously, totally offended. You’d think after promising to let you meet me A YEAR AGO he’d fill you in on the deetz- but no, you’ve been running around making whoopee with the silver fox for months, far too distracted to come and visit little old me!”

You opened your mouth to ask more questions, when memory got to you first. It was a partial haze, the image muddied by alcohol and exhilaration, yet you could still make out the shapes. One year ago you’d visited the Timeline Club for the first time- a year ago, you’d met your other Master for the first time. After your… antics… the Master, your Master, had carried you out and mentioned something about-

“Workshopping…” You said aloud. The intruder tilted her head like a curious cat.

“He’d said he’d be workshopping it… he said I needed to meet…”

The intruder stepped forward, reaching the edge of the bed and smirking expectantly. You looked up, awe slowly spreading across your features. You gasped softly, the tension falling from your shoulders.

“You’re… Missy?”

The Timelady hummed in approval, her hand reaching to cup your chin with her fingertips, lifting your face to meet her gaze.

“That’s Mistress to you right now, pet. We’re still getting to know each other.”

You gaped up at her, unable to pull your eyes away. You could see it within her eyes, that familiar twinkle of danger. It was the same one you saw in your Master's eyes.

“Now come along, we’ve much bonding to do, so little time.”

Missy preened, bringing her face closer to your own, leaning across the edge of the bed.

“I’ve been so looking forward to getting my hands on you, poppet. Those boys have been keeping too short a leash on you.”

The Mistress chuckled, booping the end of your nose with her fingertip.

“Now it’s my turn to have some fun.”

Missy grinned down at you. And in that smile, you saw the familiar storm of chaos.

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lieslab · 2 months

Text

Look after you

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Han Jisung X gn reader

Summary: Your boyfriend thinks the two of you should break up because he's not good enough, but you have other plans.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 1.5K

Trigger warning: Anxiety, social anxiety, self-hatred, and insecurities.

A/N: To whom requested the people pleasing drabble, I'm currently drafting it. I said I wanted to be more active here in another post and I meant it. In the meantime, here's this while I finish that. I love Han so much and I hope he knows how loved he is.

_ _ _

“I think we should break up.”

Those words shattered your world. There was love in your eyes when you looked at Han Jisung. The moment he uttered those words, it blew out like a candlelight. A lump began to fill your throat and invisible icy fingers curled around your lungs.

“What do you mean?” You weakly got out.

The two of you were on opposite sides of the couch. Han had been off all day, but you had ignored it. When you tried to ask a few times about the strange avoidant behavior, he brushed you off and insisted it was nothing.

His sudden declaration blindsided you. It was a knife in your back. Flipping through the memories of the past few months, you weren’t sure what went wrong. You couldn’t think of anything that was different.

The two of you got along great. There had been a few mishaps here and there, but those had the potential to occur in every relationship. They were normal and they always smoothed over. Your life with Han seemed to be pretty good, so why now?

“I can’t be with you anymore. I’m sorry, but I-I can’t.” He struggled to hold back his tears. He blinked rapidly trying to hide the glossy sheerness, but it was too late.

All day he had been fighting with himself about this situation. He didn’t like the thought of breaking up with you, but he didn’t know what else to do. How were you supposed to date someone when your own brain was against you?

When you were poisoned with self-hatred and your brain was on the verge of imploding, how could someone handle loving another? When you were lulled to sleep with whispers about how they were better than you in every way. When anxiety gnawed bits of brain and tunneled its way through intestines and created gut-wrenching stomach aches, it wasn’t healthy in the slightest.

Your head spun with multiple questions. So many things were on the tip of your tongue. Despite the sudden betrayal, you managed to push out one. “Why?” Your own voice sounded like a stranger’s, shrill and high-pitched.

“Because…” The lump in his throat was starting to expand. He sniffled as his nose began to run. The maroon fabric of his hoodie wiped across his eyes. “Because I’m not good enough for you.”

The words were like a baseball bat to your heart. The spider-webbing of cracks began to inch across the surface. Your face fell as you took in Han’s appearance.

He refused to meet your eyes and kept his gaze on the floor. The ends of his hoodie sleeves were curled and bunched up around his hands. He sniffled again and squirmed beneath your gaze.

“You’re not good enough for me?”

He shook his head as a tear fell. “You-” His voice wobbled again. He had to clear his throat before he continued. “You deserve someone so much better than me. I can’t compete with what you have.”

“I don’t think I understand what you mean.”

“You’re more beautiful than I’ll ever be. You’re smart and you’re confident. You know what you want and you know what you’re doing with all of this.” He gestured around the room. “You know how to live and I don’t.”

“I-I just feel like I’m worthless. I’m always so anxious and worried all the time. You deserve someone who is confident and sure about themselves. You deserve someone who’s smarter than me. Someone who is better and someone who isn’t always so busy.”

“It’s not fair,” he managed to get out, “that I have to be away from you all the time for work. You deserve someone who’ll be around to support you all the time. I can’t be that kind of person for you.”

You gathered your thoughts trying to come up with a response. Sucking in a deep breath, you shut your eyes before you reopened them. You shook your head, “no.”

“No?” He echoed.

“No. You don’t get to dump me because you think you’re not good enough for me. You don’t get to be the person who decides that because that’s not fair.”

“But, I-”

“Your brain might work against you, so I’m here to tell you that it’s wrong. I will sit here and combat every awful thing it says even if it takes me hours. You want the truth? The truth is that I love you and I will always love you.”

“You don’t get to see all the good about yourself. You don’t see how much you make me happy. You make me want to live. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met inside and out. You write the most amazing songs and I love the way your brain works.”

“There’s something magical about you, Han Jisung.” You sniffled and sat up a little straighter. “So no, no we’re not breaking up because you can’t get rid of me that easily. If I let you go and if I let you believe the things your brain was telling you about yourself, what kind of person would that make me?”

The tears filling up in Han’s eyes finally fell. Nobody had ever said anything like this before. There was nothing, but fierce determination in your eyes. You were ready to do whatever it took to change his mind.

“Why do you care so much?”

“That’s what you do when you love someone, you fight their battles with them. You support them through thick and thin. You love them despite their flaws and their scars. You’re like my sun and I will not let you leave me alone in the dark. Do you hear me?”

His bottom lip quivered. He pawed at his eyes again and smeared tears along his cheeks in the process. The metaphor touched something in his heart. He was about to break down crying when you crawled across the length of the leather couch to close the distance between the two of you.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into your chest. You were expecting him to break down due to the intense emotions, but he didn’t. He sucked in shaky breaths instead. Warm salted tears coated your chest and soaked in the fabric of your t-shirt.

You placed your cheek along the top of his head and began to rub his back. “No matter what happens, I won’t let you go. I won’t let you fight this alone. I’ll always be here when you need me.”

He didn’t speak and he didn’t have to. You already knew everything he wanted to say. He made it very clear in the way he squeezed his arms around your waist and clutched you tighter. He held onto you like you were a raft in an ocean and in some ways, you were.

Floating on an ocean of insecurities and being pulled away by the tide of abhorrence of oneself. It wasn’t up to everyone else to fix you, but a little self-assurance never hurt anyone. It was easier to breathe when the people around you helped support you.

Anxiety was always a challenge. When you couldn’t control everything and the future was too scary, everything fell apart. Shredding you from the inside out, too much awareness, you were doomed. A constant weight on your shoulders, a constrictor squeezing your lungs, and non-existent bugs burrowing into your stomach.

Self-doubt could be isolating. In a world full of social anxiety, when everyone was against you until proven otherwise, life was hard. A constant inner battle of turmoil and high-strung emotions that left the affected person exhausted.

Going outside felt impossible at times. You never knew who you could trust. They say that even salt looks like sugar and it couldn’t be more true at times. Getting to know you was one of the hardest things he had ever done.

To muster up the courage to approach a stranger and start a conversation. To some, it seems so silly. Conversations are a part of everyday life. The truth is that you can’t get very far without being able to communicate with others.

For others, it is the bravest thing in the entire world. A measly ant-hill to some can be Mount Everest to others and there’s nothing wrong with that. Everyone has different battles and life has an array of challenges for everyone.

Despite everything, you wouldn’t let go of Han. Not now and not ever. Love was something you didn’t take lightly. Sure, it wasn’t a marriage, but it felt like one to you. You gave your everything in romantic relationships and you wouldn’t stop now.

You clutched Han tightly and you wouldn’t let go. You’d sit here with silent reassurance as long as you needed to. You wouldn’t let his anxiety win this time. You wouldn’t let it push you away. You’d stay here until the end of time if he’d allow it.

Right here, wrapped up and intertwined with each other, there was nothing like it. As far as you were concerned, this was your home. Han Jisung was your home and there was so much love inside your home.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Masterlist

Requests, taglist, and inbox rules

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids drabbles #kpop fanfic #han jisung #han jisung fic #han jisung fanfic #han jisung stray kids #stay

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returnsandreturns · 4 months

Text

this is all i needed to write after rewatching this episode

“I’m going to put this gun down,” Despereaux says, calmly, sitting it on the coffee table before making the kind of eye contact that Shawn associates with really fun, adventurous sex, “so you know that I only want to pursue my current urge with what I anticipate to be your extremely enthusiastic consent. Stand up, Shawn.”

“. . .why should I do what you say when you’re no longer pulling a little Bond villain moment on me?” Shawn asks, resisting the automatic urge to stand just because Despereaux’s voice—does things to him. Dark, gay things.

“Because I’ll make it more than worth your while,” Despereaux says, doing something frankly elegantly devastating with his eyebrows before taking one single, significant step closer.

“Stolen masterpieces?” Shawn asks. “Gold? Jewels? Pieces of Me, the debut album of Alaska’s sweetheart Jewel? That’s the real masterpiece and you should know, sir, I am sensitive and would like to stay that way.”

It gets him an uncalculated smile which makes Shawn want to do roughly the opposite of standing. More precisely, to be on his fucking knees. He’s never encountered a master thief but he might have a weakness for them—as well as a weakness for any kind of accent, handsome faces and people of any gender with a commanding presence.

“I think you know exactly what I’d like to give you,” Despereaux says, lower than before, so Shawn has to lean forward a little to really hear it—he’s purring, basically, “but I can say it plainly, unless like you’d like to continue stalling while you consider what you’re willing to do—and what you can’t stop yourself from doing.”

They’re not staring at each other so much as Despereaux is staring at him and Shawn is taking in the heated feeling of that while happening to get lost in his eyes a little. For what might be the first time in his life, he can’t say anything. He just shakes his head.

“Good boy,” Despereaux says, warmly.

“. . .oh, fuck you,” Shawn says, laughing, covering his face with his hands. “Just—say it plainly.”

“Well, you beat me to it,” Despereaux says, walking closer, fingers brushing Shawn’s hands so he drops them slowly before tipping Shawn’s chin up with one finger. He’s good. That's a damn move. “I’m going to fuck you. Would you like to do what I told you to now, Shawn?”

Shawn stands up slowly and with next to no dignity.

“I’m only doing this because it feels narratively satisfying and also I really want to,” he says, as casually as he can when he’s pretty sure Despereaux could say just the right word and he’d implode or melt or just die right there—in his arms tonight. “Should I get naked or do you want to seductively undress me? I’m fine with either. Just know that the sweat stains on my shirt are from vigorous manly exercise prior to this event and not fear from the whole gun thing.”

Despereaux pulls Shawn in by the collar of his shirt to kiss him and Shawn’s brain shuts off as soon as a strong hand is wrapped gently around his throat.

“Undress for me,” Despereaux says, squeezing just enough to count. “I'd enjoy that.”

“. . .okay,” Shawn breathes, immediately ripping his shirt off.

#psych #my fic #shawn spencer #pierre despereaux #shawn is actually maybe the most FUN character to write

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collectorsedtn · 2 years

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The (insane, crazy, stupid) Deal - P.1

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader Series Summary: When Y/N Henderson asks her crush out in front of his girlfriend (who she didn't know about!) damage control needs to be done. In a state of panic, she asks Steve Harrington, her little brothers best friend and Mr Popular of Hawkins High, to pretend to date her for a week. In return, they hope to convince Nancy Wheeler that she made the wrong choice and to see what she's been missing. Fake dating drama ensues. ST Timeline: After Season 2, before Season 3 (but may play around with the timeline just to have Robin and their Scoops Ahoy job in here) word count: 4k a/n: Told myself I wasn't gonna start a series but I just love the fake dating trope so here we are lol Part 2

This was crazy. This was insane and stupid and dumb and crazy. You’re not sure what demon possessed you to make so many stupendously horrible mistakes, but whoever he was, he obviously had it out for you. Each decision you made was worse than the one prior, creating a domino effect where each mistake snowballed into the next, resulting in this exact moment.

The moment in question? Kissing Steve Harrington.

You could tell that Steve was still in shock, his hands barely grasping your waist and his lips pretty much unresponsive to yours. Your eyes were thankfully closed so you could spare yourself the humiliation of seeing his eyes wide open during a very public kiss at a very popular party. You don’t blame him, even you were completely mystified as to what your thought process was for this moment. You had panicked and put barely any thought into what you were doing when you ran up to him and just planted one on him in the middle of the party, simply reacting from one humiliating situation into another one. You knew that this was a huge mistake on so many different accounts. Not only was he King Steve, but he was your brother’s friend and not the boy that you’re actually crushing on, although you had just found out that that boy might just be a lost cause anyway. On that note, you start to pull away, deciding to end this torture sooner rather than later when you suddenly feel Steve’s hands finally start to grasp at your sides and a hint of reciprocity from his own lips, although you’re not even sure if it really happened or if your mind is just trying to make up for the endless rounds of humiliation you had already experienced today.

You open your eyes to see Steve’s completely bewildered expression, his eyes wide with confusion and mouth slightly agape, but his hands still holding onto your waist. You open your mouth so you can start explaining yourself before deciding against it, realising the music would be too loud for you to properly have a conversation with him. You grab his hand instead, guiding him to the closest room you could find, weaving through groups of people who openly stare at the two of you with curiosity and a few snickers, probably making wrong assumptions as to where we were going and what we were going to do. You finally reach a bathroom, quickly pulling Steve in after you and locking the door. You lean your back against the door, reaching your hand to rest over your chest and feeling your heart beating against the palm of your hand, adrenaline going through the roof.

“Okay, let me explain myself.” You begin.

“Yeah, what the hell was that, Henderson?” Steve’s slightly annoyed, this much you can gather. He’s standing across from you, leaning on the sink with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “Usually I’m good at picking up signals but you got me at a complete loss this time. Where the hell did that come from?”

“Look, I panicked, okay? I just panicked. My brain imploded and I panicked and I kissed you.” You rambled, mind running a mile a minute.

“That’s not an explanation.” He retorts, shaking his head.

“It felt like I had no other choice.”

“Just what a man wants to hear.”

“I mean, I felt – I felt trapped! I thought there was only one solution to get me out of it.”

“Earth to Y/n? You’re still not making sense. Get you out of what?”

You let out a deflated sigh before answering, “Danny McCormick.” You keep your eyes trained on your shoes, avoiding eye contact as you feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

There’s silence for a moment as Steve processes what you said but comes up empty. “...Danny McCormick?”

You push away from the door and start pacing the short length of the bathroom, still keeping your eyes trained to your feet. “Tonight was the night I was finally gonna make a move on Danny McCormick. And I did. Kind of.” You explain, wringing your hands. “Well, I was starting to, y’know? I asked him out.”

You finally look up at him to make sure he’s following your story to see his brows furrowed in confusion. “Okay? Good for you. What does that have to do with me?”

“Because right after I asked him out, Mandy, his apparent girlfriend who I knew nothing about, showed up right next to him, giving me the stink eye. Which, in retrospect, I totally deserved.”

Steve nods his head slowly, you can tell he’s trying to pick up the pieces. “Ah, so I’m guessing this is where the panicking starts?”

“Yup. My brain just went into fight or flight and I started improvising. But the big, huge, terrible problem is that I’m not good at improvising. I just start saying the first thing that comes to my head without even thinking about the repercussions of what I’ve just said”

“Wrap it up, Henderson, get to the explanation.” Steve says impatiently.

“So my brain kind of starts working overtime when I realise that I’ve just asked Danny out in front of his girlfriend and I’m scrambling for ideas to get me out of it, when suddenly I see you right in my line of vision. Now, this is the part where the monkey with the cymbals in my brain starts getting all erratic and giving me bad ideas.”

“The monkey with the cymbals?”

“Yeah you know the one. The monkey toy in the yellow vest that goes crazy with the cymbals? The one with the creepy eyes? That’s what I picture is driving all my common sense away in my head. Like the cymbals are just blocking and drowning all other thoughts out. Anyway, I see you, and the monkey with the cymbals goes off in my brain, and I think hey, there’s Steve, he’s a nice guy! He’s friends with my brother! And so I just tell them, Danny and Mandy, that what I meant to say was double date, not date singular, but date plural. And obviously Mandy isn't buying it so she’s all ‘Well who’s your date?’ and so I say–”

“Steve.” Steve finishes.

“Exactly!” You say, pointing your fingers at Steve. “But she can still smell the bullshit since I’m not a great actor, so she’s all ‘You’re going on a date with Steve Harrington?’ and she says it in this real condescending tone which really pisses me off. And look, I know and you know that you would never date me which I’m totally fine with because I would never date you, but who the hell is Mandy to assume that I’m not good enough for Steve Harrington? As if I’m below you or something!”

“I’m guessing the monkey cymbals came out again.”

“Oh, the monkey cymbals came out in full force when she said that because I just ran towards you in a blind, hot rage and–”

“Kissed me.”

“Yes! That’s when I kissed you and – Oh my god! I kissed you!” You gasp out, hand coming over your mouth as you realise what you had done. You had gotten so wrapped up in the explanation of it all that you had already forgotten you kissed Steve. “This is basically assault. I pretty much assaulted you. I’m an assaulter!”

“Woah woah woah let’s not go that far.” Steve stressed, pushing himself off the sink.

“No but I did Steve! I just kissed you without your consent. God, this is probably the worst thing I’ve ever done. I just forced you to kiss me!” You lean back against the wall and slide down until you’re crouched on the floor, arms resting on your knees and your head in your hands.

“I wouldn’t use the word for–”

“People get charged for doing stuff like this. People get arrested for doing stuff like this.” You exclaim, looking up at Steve who was now standing in front of you.

“Nobody is getting arrested–”

“It’s basically the same as punching someone. I’m no better than some violent, brutish–”

“You are taking this way too far.”

“ –abuser. I mean, I should really let you punch me.”

“ –what?” Steve barks, so shocked that he takes a physical step back.

You tilt your head up to look at him, sincere expression adorning your face. “I totally deserve it. An eye for an eye. I assault you, you assault me.”

“Y/n, I’m not going to punch you, are you crazy?”

“It’s only fair.”

“It’s not fair if I don’t want to punch you!” Steve scoffs.

“But I’m letting you! All I ask is anywhere but the face. I've recently grown to like my face and it’ll be harder to hide the bruise.” You commanded, turning your head to the side and closing your eyes to pretend like you were preparing yourself to get hit, hiding the smile that was tugging at your lips. You were obviously teasing Steve at this point since you knew he would never hit you, but you also weren’t close enough to him for him to know that you were joking.

“Y/n stop it. I’m not hitting you.” Steve huffed, nudging his foot with yours so you’d open your eyes again and look at him.

You give in, turning your head back and staring up at him again. “But I don’t know how to make it up to you.”

“I don’t know what type of person you think I am, but allowing me to hit you is not you making it up to me. Besides, after hearing all of that, the kiss is the last thing I’m annoyed about, the double date on the other hand–”

At this you scramble to your feet and grab Steve’s hand, remembering the stupid double date that you lied to Danny about. “Please Steve it’ll just be one date–”

“No way! I am not going to willingly spend my free time with Danny McCormick of all people.”

You pull your hand back quickly. “What’s wrong with Danny?” You question defensively.

Steve scoffs at this, shrugging slightly. “No offence to your taste or whatever, but the dude’s got the personality of a wet blanket.”

“He does not!”

“Uh, yes he does.”

“No he doesn’t! He’s kind and smart and has passion and hobbies and interests!” You defend.

“Yet he’s somehow still the most boring person I’ve ever met on the planet, and need I remind you Y/N, we live in Hawkins Indiana, we probably have the highest percentage of boring people in the world.” Steve teases with a small smile, walking over to the bathroom door and unlocking it, deciding the conversation is over.

“Please Steve, I’ll do whatever you want!” You insist, following behind him as he exits the bathroom. “I’ll take over babysitting duties! I’ll drop off and pick up Dustin from your house so you don’t have to drive him! I’ll do your trig work for you!”

Steve pauses at this,“All my trig homework?” He asks, head not even turning to look at you.

“Well, actually, probably not that since I’m morally against plagiarism and doing someone else’s work for them but I’ll tutor you in trig! I promise I’m a really great tutor!”

Steve laughs at this before shaking his head and continuing to walk away. “Yeah, no way. No deal.”

You continue to chase after him, weaving through throngs of people. Once you’re close enough again, you hold onto the bottom of his shirt between your fingers so that you don’t lose him again, trailing behind him as he makes his way past people.“C’mon Steve! It’s just one shitty double date. Honestly, tell me what you want in exchange because these are desperate times.”

“Very desperate times apparently.” Steve mused, smirking down at you and making light of your previous kiss. You bark out a laugh and hit his arm as you round a corner, bumping directly into Nancy and Jonathan, causing all four of you to jump back slightly. The air is awkward and tense around the four of you with Steve’s eyes on Nancy, Nancy’s eyes on Steve and Jonathan’s eyes on Nancy, you just there taking the whole thing in.

“Steve,” Nancy finally beamed, smiling at him sincerely, Jonathan next to her smiling politely as well. Nancy’s eyes quickly cut to your hand which was still holding onto the bottom of Steve’s shirt and up to your face, a barely noticeable furrow clouding her expression for a second before she wipes it away with a smile directed at you. “And Y/N! Hi.”

You smile politely back at her in return, making note of the expression you caught on Nancy’s face that you’re sure no one else saw.

“Hey, didn’t know you guys would be at this party.” Steve manages with a grin, you can tell that it’s forced from the way it doesn’t reach his eyes and you’re sure Nancy can tell too.

“Yeah, we kinda felt like we needed to spend some time with people our age after listening to the kids play dnd all day.” Jonathan explains casually, Nancy nodding along in agreement.

The four of you stand together in awkward silence, nodding along to the previous statement, “Oh shoot!” You pipe up, breaking the silence as you turn to face Steve, nudging his shoulder with yours. “That actually reminds me that we should probably get going. I promised Dustin I’d be home soon to help him set up the next campaign. You can still give me a ride, right Steve?” You asked, looking up at him with wide eyes which hopefully translated what you were saying but probably made you look crazy.

“Uh yeah sure…” Steve replies slowly, obviously not understanding what you’re doing but just going along with it. “Yeah, me and Henderson are gonna get going. We’ll see you guys later.”

All four of you wave your goodbyes before you start to walk away with Steve, impulsively grabbing his hand in yours and threading your fingers through his, keeping a strong grip so he doesn’t pull away.

Steve nearly jumps back at the surprising contact, staring down at you with wide, dumbfounded eyes. “What the hell are you doing?” Steve questions through gritted teeth.

You lean up on your toes to whisper in Steve’s ear, “Testing out a theory.” You turn your head back just before you round the corner and see Nancy’s eyes linger on yours and Steve’s hands, causing you to break out into a mischievous smile. The second you’re out of sight of Nancy and Jonathan you wrench your hand from Steve’s and lift it for a high five, to which Steve just stares blankly at your hand.

“What am I meant to do with that?” Steve nods towards your still upraised hand, wearing an expression of mild annoyance.

“High five!” You explain, still holding your hand up.

“Why?” Steve asks, finally relenting and giving you a very lacklustre high five, although you would say it was more similar to a gentle hand nudging rather than a high five.

“Because,” you sing, “Nancy was one hundred percent staring at our hands meaning, drumroll please!” Steve stares at you blankly again, not willing to entertain you. “Wow, you’re in a mood.” You grumble, rolling your eyes, “It means she’s jealous, nimrod. That’s what I can give you in exchange.” You pat Steve on the arm with a smile, walking on without him while you let him absorb your words behind you.

“You think she was jealous?” Steve calls out after you, jogging back up to you. By now the two of you were out of the house and on your way to Steve’s car, the night air so chilly that your breaths came out like puffs of smoke.

“Definitely. I noticed it when we first bumped into them so I had to test out my theory, that’s why I held your hand.” You explain, stuffing your hands in your jacket pockets to bury them away from the cold. You hear Steve hum in reply as he processes this information in his own time, silently leading the both of you to his car. “So will you do it?” You ask, breaking Steve out of his thoughts as he unlocks the car.

“Do what?”Steve asks, sliding into the driver's seat.

“Go on the date with me in exchange for making Nancy jealous again.” You elaborated simply, sliding into the passenger seat and shutting the door.

“What? No.” Steve grumbles, frowning and shaking his head as he starts the car up and pulls away from the house, refusing to make eye contact with you. “I don’t even care if Nancy gets jealous. We’re broken up anyways.”

You whip your head around to face him and give him a look which reads ‘I can read straight through your bullshit’, smiling a little at his obvious state of denial. “Uh yeah, sure. I totally believe you.” You tease sarcastically.

“What, you don’t bel–” He stops himself when he pulls his eyes away from the road and glances your way, deciding to give up then and there when he sees the expression on your face. “Yeah alright, so I care a little bit that she got jealous, so what?”

You smile triumphantly at his admission before explaining your plan to him, “So you can go on the double date with me and then I’ll let you act all flirty with me in front of Nancy and make her jealous and see what she’s missing.”

“Look Y/N, I’m sorry, but I’m not going on the double date. I don’t do double dates. Especially double dates with Dann—”

“Danny McCormick, yeah I know.” You grumble out defeatedly, slumping in your passenger seat. You’re silent for a moment as you think of other options to get you out of your humiliating mess with Danny, especially since you have to see him every single day in class. “What if I cancel on the double date but you act all flirty with me in front of Danny and Mandy, just enough to prove to them that I wasn’t hitting on him.”

“But you were hitting on him.” Steve reminds you pointedly.

“Only because I didn’t know he had a girlfriend!” You defend yourself, huffing out an annoyed sigh when you see Steve’s lips quirk up at your obvious irritation. “C’mon Steve! This can be mutually beneficial. Just do your whole flirty King Steve bit with me in front of Nancy, Danny and Mandy and it’s a win-win situation.” You’re practically begging at this point, as if you hadn’t experienced enough humiliation in one night.

You watch with bated breath as Steve keeps his eyes forward on the road ahead, his one hand resting on the steering wheel and the other pulling at his lip, obviously thinking over your proposal and how it will benefit him. “If I say yes to this, and that’s if, we gotta set some ground rules.”

You practically fling your body forward so you’re turned in your chair and facing him, nodding your head vigorously and excitedly. “Yes! Ground rules. Completely agree.”

“Like, there needs to be an end date to all of this. And we need to specify what we’re allowed to do and when we’re allowed to do it.” You nod along to everything Steve says, too excited and overwhelmed to even come up with your own ground rules. “And we gotta think of an answer for when people start asking questions about what we are to each other.”

“What we are to each other?” You’re confused now, as you had just assumed that the situation would just be some light flirting in the hallway, not anything that resembled actual dating.

“Yeah, I mean, I flirt with everyone so if you want it to be believable that we’re really into each other, I kinda gotta go all in. People are gonna ask questions.” Steve shrugs, catching your eye briefly before turning away again.

“Oh… I guess I never thought about that.” You mumble out quietly.

“What? Now you’re all shy and want to back out? Aren’t you the one that kissed me?” Steve teases as he finally stops the car in front of your house, pulling his key out of the ignition.

“Shut up, I was just thinking.” You grin back, undoing your seatbelt and twisting your body so you’re fully facing him with your back to the passenger door and your legs crossed on the seat. You’re silent for a moment as you pick apart ideas in your brain, trying to come up with some ground rules that would benefit both of you in this situation. “I think we should start off with just one week of public flirting slash displays of affection, then we can reconsider if we need more time after the one week.” You finally propose.

Steve nods his head at this, mimicking your actions by sitting cross legged across from you as well. “Kissing or no kissing?” He asks.

“No kissing. Unless absolutely necessary.” You answer with the shake of your head. “And if people ask what we are to each other, we’ll say that we’ve just been on a few dates, nothing serious.”

“Yeah, I like that. Good answer.” Steve nods along before leaning over and rummaging through the centre console, finally fishing out some old receipt paper and a pen, no doubt jotting down everything you were saying. “And what do we tell Dustin?” Steve asks, not looking up as he finishes writing down his last word.

“Why does Dustin need to know?”

“Don’t you think he’s gonna hear about how one of his best friends is being seen with his sister?” Steve asks.

“This thing is gonna last a week.” You state, shaking your head dismissively. “I doubt it’ll make the gossip rounds and reach his middle school in just a week.”

“Yeah, but it might.” Steve counters.

“Then we’ll cross that bridge if we get there.”

Steve raises his eyebrows and sighs in defeat. “Fine, whatever.” He says, shrugging his shoulders and scooting closer to you, passing the old receipt paper which he was writing on. “Have a look at this and see if it looks alright.” You grab the paper from him and quickly skim through all the bullet points, nodding along to everything but stopping at the last point. Y/N will not fall in love with Steve.

“What’s this?” You ask, pointing to the last point.

“It’s a clause that says you won't fall in love with me.” Steve says matter of factly, expression dead serious.

“Yeah, right” You snort, stealing the pen out of his hand so you can cross it out.

“I’m being serious. You haven’t experienced my full charm, Y/N, the clause is completely necessary.” Steve insists with crossed arms.

You roll your eyes and laugh at him a little but decide not to fight him on this, signing your name messily at the bottom of the paper before passing it to Steve to sign as well. Once you both signed the paper, you took his hand in yours and gave it one firm shake to fully seal the deal, Steve even giving you a salute with his other hand, causing you to snort out a laugh.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Steve jokes, giving one last shake before letting your hand go.

“I guess I’ll see you at school on Monday.” You say, gathering your few belongings before stepping out of the car. You start to shut the car door but stop halfway, leaning down again to say one more thing, “Again, I am so sorry for kissing you without your permission. So sorry.” You say sheepishly, earning some surprised laughter from Steve.

“Henderson, seriously, it’s fine. Plus, I’ll get you back at some point this week so fair is fair.” Steve says, cheeky glint in his eyes.

You squint your eyes at him before slamming the door shut, walking halfway up your driveway before turning around and shouting, “You better read those terms and conditions well. It said unless absolutely necessary.” You turn back around before seeing his reaction, running up to your door and wondering what the hell you had just got yourself into.

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