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yasminebahng · 3 months

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skz and how they give you physical affection

notes: some fluff for yall after the angst of my last post ;) was waiting for my lecture to start and suddenly started thinking... how do the boys love to show their affection physically? then started day dreaming and yeah.. enjoy! cw: reader x ot8, mentions of kissing, mentions of showering/bathing together, gn reader

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Chan: Resting on you

God knows this man needs a break. When he's exhausted after dance practice or doing interviews all day, the only comfort he can find is in you. He'll trudge over to you, head bowed down, his eyes droopy with sleep and just collapse into your open arms. This happens very frequently actually. When he's working on music, he'll bring his laptop with him while he lays on your chest. He knows he cant be around all the time, and when he is around he's usually busy, so he's grateful that you embrace him while working (I mean, he needs some lovin too.) He'll let you know its time for bed by kissing your arm that's usually resting on his chest or playing with his curls. The rest of the night is spent with cuddles and giggles.

Lee Know: Tracing his fingers on your skin

Lee Know is notorious for avoiding skinship. Out of respect for him, you allow him to initiate it most of the time. Whether it be kisses, hugs, or cuddles, you let him take the reigns. Except for when you ask when you're feeling needy, most of the time he will oblige. So whenever he doesn't really want to kiss or hug, he will draw figures or words on any exposed skin. You find that he does it subconsciously when you both watch movies on the couch or are falling asleep in bed. That's actually the way he told you he loves you the first time. He traced the words on your arm while you spoke, thinking you wouldn't catch it. But you did. You always paid attention when he did that. So you picked up his palm, making eye contact with him the whole time, and traced the words back. The whole day was spent with kisses and arm doodles.

Changbin: Bear hugs

Binnie is so touchy in general but his personal favorite in his artillery, are huge hugs. Whenever you guys go out on a date, he'll wrap his arms around your shoulders and waddle behind you. Even when you watch him at dance practice, during breaks he'll chase you around and hug you (much to your dismay, since he's all sweaty.) He loves encasing you and knowing you're safe with him as much as you love the warmth of his embrace. He'll squeeze you so tightly, honestly to the point of suffocating. Whenever you return the favor, he melts. Feeling your arms around him is the greatest comfort, especially when he's had a really hard day.

Hyunjin: Hand worship

Having hands on the larger side, Hyunjin loves looking and feeling your smaller ones in his own. He'll make fun of you sometimes, calling them baby hands even though they're a normal size but I digress. Sometimes when he paints, he'll turn to you and ask for your hand to hold. You smile at him and give it to him and he'll bring it to his lips before intertwining his fingers with your own. If he's feeling especially playful, he will start to paint on it. Landscapes, flowers, even Jiniret. It feels so intimate when your fingers dance around together, exploring each other.

Han: Kisses

This man has some juicy lips and he is not afraid to use them. He will find any excuse to kiss you. ANY. "Aw, you had a bad day? Here, my lips will cure you." "Oh! You had an amazing day? Let's make it a better one." Before he showers your face and neck and shoulders with kisses. His personal favorite place to kiss you is your forehead. He'll rest his head against yours and find your lips, slowly molding them together. Then, after a dizzying and heart melting kiss, he'll leave a trail of them until he finds his lips on your head. You'll close your eyes, savoring the warmth of his body pressed against yours. One time, his kissed your head for so long it left a hickey on there. When he pulled away and saw the angry purple mark, he collapsed on the floor laughing and you looked at him like he was crazy. Until you found a mirror. And you became the crazy one. He did not kiss your head for a while after that.

Felix: Massages

After a long, exhausting day at work, all you want to do is go home, shower, and cry. Thankfully, your caring boyfriend has better plans. Felix loves doing acts of service. If he knows you're not in high spirits he will take your bags at the door, help you take your shoes off, and run a bath for you while you grab yourself something to drink. You'll walk into the bathroom that's thick with steam and see that the candles on the tub are lit and Felix is hunched over, checking the temperature of the water. He'll help you change out of your clothes and lower you into the tub. He has bought several lotions and oils because he loves massaging you so much. He'll spread it over your shoulders and squeeze softly but firmly. You melt. He will hear your words of approval and feel so giddy that he's helping you and relieving some of your stress. Eventually he will move down to your arms, your legs, your feet. Any part of you he can massage he will. It's as enjoyable for him as it is for you and he loves that he can show his love for you this way.

Seungmin: Spooning

This man is a fiend for cuddles. He will jump at any opportunity to cuddle with you. Whenever he wraps up singing at the recording studio, he will get out of the booth and run to your spot on the couch and pull you into his arms. You try to scold him sometimes, since one or two of the members are usually there, but they don't seem to mind at all. You don't really either. You love feeling his arms around your stomach and your legs tangled together. He will fall asleep sometimes and whenever you'd attempt to get up, his grip tightens and you admit defeat. Don't tell anyone this, but whenever you guys are alone, most of the time he's the little spoon. He loves how you hitch your leg over his hip and have your arm under him (it falls asleep most of the time but you never move or tell him.) He feels safest in your arms.

I.N: Playing with your hair

He discovered how much he loved playing with your hair when you guys were on a picnic date in a field. Your head was in his lap and you were nearly asleep. He was staring down at you and began to stroke your hair and scratch at your scalp. You hummed in approval and it was lights out. After seeing how much peace it brought you, he would always be playing with it. Twirling it between his fingers, asking if he can help apply products, even washing it for you when you guys would shower. He did it for you initially, but then it became his favorite thing in the world. Some days you'd let him tie it into weird styles and with weird hair ties. Some with bows, or beads, or wonky colors. He'd find himself kissing it before bed every night and you could cry at how loved you felt in those moments.

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81folklore · 1 month

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i can do it with a broken heart - f1 grid

parings: gn!driver!reader x platonic!f1!grid x ex!jacob elordi

summary: after yn and their ex break up, they carry on as best they can and no one had any idea how bad they were struggling

type: social media au (smau)

notes: george is in this but he does not drive for mercedes, yn does. i also used a mixture of fem and masc pictures because i couldnt decide and thought you could just imagine whatever you wish!!

notes 2: probably the longest fic ive done so far but im pretty proud of it. the time stamps above each section are semi important so i would keep an eye on them!! also i know ive been gone for so long but i do not promise ill be back. alsoooo i know i only included a bit of the grid but i kept getting distracted and then couldn’t figure out how to include everyone!!

masterlist

march 2024

twitter

charles oh my god i cant believe my cat is finally the pfp

i have been waiting for YEARS

max yes well you better enjoy it because it’ll change soon and you’ll be back to waiting again.

lando jesus max do you have to use punctuation???

alex be glad he doesnt use captials

oscar one thing at a time lando, we dont want to scare him

max ???

lando anyway

yn mate you ok?

yourname im fine? ur scaring me you never ask how i am

lando yeah but usually your not single

lewis oh no! you and jacob split?

yourname yeah, wasnt working anymore

charles ah im sorry, that must suck😣

yourname i mean it does but its been coming for a long time so its not surprising

fernando hello! yn what is wrong? you always use emotes!

yourname theyre emojis nando, and im fine just a bit lost

fernando do not worry, i will come and find you!

yourname no, i dont mean literally just..we were together for so long i dont really know what to do now you know?

lando i get it, you wanna play tarkov with me???

yourname cheers ill get on now

george let us know if you need anything!

may 2024

yourusername

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton and 814,583 others

p✌️ was just what we needed this weekend!

thank you to everyone who came out and supported myself and the team and huge thank you to the team for working so hard all weekend⭐️

view comments

mercedesamgf1 mega job this weekend yn👊 *liked by author*

landonorris nice to share the podium with you mate

yourusername same time next race?

user33 loved seeing you back on the podium

user2 absolutely smashing it this season

user21 more podiums please🤲 *liked by author*

user3 fourth podium of the year first p✌️*liked by author*

twitter

*pretend it says after march i changed dates around last min*

august 2024

yourusername

liked by lukehemmings, charles_leclerc and 1,124,642 others

did some reading, painting and writing

baked some good food and spent time with some good people, also got a cat…not bad for summer break☀️

view comments

user66 AHHHHHH

yourusername ahhhhhhh

user26 cats name plsplspls

yourusername norman🐱

lukehemmings nice music👍

yourusername woah arent you the guy who wrote mum?!

mercedesamgf1 ready to see you back on the podium

yourusername always!!!!

user74 have you had funnnn??

yourusername yesss!! ive been doing lots of things i enjoy, basically treating every day as my birthday😋

twitter

*was supposed to write them instead of her sorry!! was doing two stories at once and kept getting mixed up😅*

october 2024

yourusername

liked by mercedesamgf1, gracieabrams and 1,291,638 others

p☝️ for the 3rd time this season, very very pleased

huuuuuge thank you to the team, every single one of you who worked tirelessly over the summer break and every moment since then, these have been for you⭐️

view comments

user55 what a good season to be a yn fan *liked by author*

user6 these races have been incredible to watch, so proud

yourusername ⭐️⭐️

gracieabrams woop woop!!!!

yourusername 😝😝

user2 gracie??

user41 why have we not had any personal photo dumps yet😕😕

user88 right we miss seeing you yn!!

yourusername sorry guys😣ive been suuuper busy working on something i just honestly forgot

user41 NEW PROJECT?? WHEN?? (also pls dont feel bad we love u)

yourusername soon!! (and i love u guys too)

twitter

november 2024

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 3,689,921 others

tagged: taylorswift

i cannot believe i get to say this, but my new friend taylor just released a new album and i was able to write a song on the album

im honestly not sure how this came about but i had so much fun writing this and expressing all my thoughts and feelings in a way ive never done before

i poured my life and soul into this song and im so glad taylor is the one who is singing it and really bought it to life

send some love to my friend and go and stream THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT (most importantly i can do it with a broken heart😉)

comments have been limited

taylorswift thank you for trusting me with this song, so much love🤍

yourusername NO THANK YOU!!! i will be forever grateful⭐️⭐️

twitter

yourusername added to their story

seen by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 729,282 others

charles i feel completely betrayed yn

fernando oh no😟! what did yn do?

charles THEY DIDNT TELL ME THEY WERE WRITING A SONG??

AND WITH TAYLOR SWIFT HOW COULD YOU☹️☹️

yourname sorry charles, surprise?!

charles ill forgive you because its a good song

yourname thank you my life just got infinitely better!

yuki very good song yn! has been on repeat☺️

yourname thanks yuki, glad you like it!!

lando I LOVE IT TOO

but seriously are you ok?!

yourname yeahhh im better now

was just a lot to navigate

lewis glad you found an outlet! but remember you can always talk to any of us

yourname i know and i appreciate it, i really do

alex yn was that twitter thread right?

yourname mate youre going to have to elaborate

alex user56tweetlink

yourname oh pretty much yeah

some things were changed with taylor but not much

fernando just listened to the song yn! very nice👍well done!

yourname thank uu

max good song yn!

now

lando can you please tell me what you meant on your twitch stream!

oscar max is kind of scary

max dont make me talk about that interview next oscar!

#f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 social media au #social media au #formula 1 insta au #formula 1 social media au #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 drabble #f1 x male reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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mechaknight-98 · 2 months

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Festivities (NSFW) FT Sakura Miyawaki

Authors note: Sakura has been too hot this comeback, and it's her birthday today…so yeah enjoy

Part II

Sakura sighed as she sat alone on her birthday. She had expected this as her favorite boy toy had told her he would be busy but would make it up to her. Her other members all had schedules throughout the day which made it harder for her. Sakura didn't hate being alone. she liked being by herself and relaxing and reenergizing like a true introvert but hated the feeling of being isolated and today she felt it. So after she did her birthday live she was colored surprised when she got a knock on the Door. She squints as she opens it and shock paints her face Daigo smiles and enters her Dorm.

“Long time no see Kura.” the young man says to her. Sakura smiles

“Yeah oh my gosh, it has been so long. 3 years right?” Sakura asked. Daigo nodded.

“So how have you been?” Daigo asked

“Busy” Sakura replied

Daigo smiled, “Honestly same work has me drowning most days, but that's trivial. It's your birthday today! You know I had to come and celebrate with you. So what do you want to do today Kura?”

“Hmm? Let's go to the PC bang!” the Japanese woman said excitedly.

Daigo nodded but dreaded internally he knew what she was going to ask him to play with her and he was not happy about it. “What do you want to play Kura?”

“Destiny 2.” Daigo reels for a moment then acquiesces.

“Okay,” he relents as the two of them go to the PC bang. Sakura is elated. She hated being isolated as recently as it made her feel empty almost. After having spent so many years around sisters having space all to herself felt wrong. She was surprised to see her gaming pen pal of many years but appreciated the company, especially since her usual boy toy was with Chaewon and her schedule. She supposed this is the reason you don't fuck your managers but Sakura needed it with all the anxiety and doom-scrolling she would often fall victim to she needed someone to vent her fury on to.

“So Diago when did you fly in?” Sakura asked as they walked together. She grabbed him tightly clinging to his warmth in the cool early spring air

Daigo counted in his hands “Um two days ago.” Daigo answered

“Was it just for me?” Sakura asked hopeful

“Of course, my little Cherry Blossom,” Daigo responded Sakura smiled and grasped him close tighter,

“Your Korean has gotten much better,” Sakura noted.

“Well, I have an excellent teacher.” Daigo praised Sakura she smiled. She loved how sweet and kind he was to her.

“How is everyone? This comeback has been…extensive from what I've seen.” Daigo asked choosing his words carefully as he saw a myriad of emotions in Sakura’s eyes. The main one is Fatigue.

Feeling comfortable Sakura slipped out of Sakura Miyawaki the it girl, idol, host, and fell into Kura.

“Oh god, it's overwhelming. Our company has been running us ragged. Can you believe they have us going to California right before the world tour?” Daigo raised an eyebrow. A world tour hadn't been announced previously, but he let it rest.

“Well for that Cali trip, I may be able to potentially confirm that you may or may not see a friend there.” Daigo obfuscated.

Kura looked at him confused, then asked,

“What state are you from Daigo? When you speak English your accent doesn't sound like this from anywhere.” Daigo smiled

“I'm from Cali Kura.” Daigo chuckled and watched as Kura put the pieces together.

“You're coming to visit?” Daigo nodded to which Kura smiled brightly and hugged him, but then a sad feeling washed over her

“I wish you could stay in Korea,” Sakura said wistfully.

“But then I wouldn't be your cool American friend I'd just be your loser gamer friend in Korea.” Daigo half-joked. He looked at Kura before adding. “Your hair is pretty this way I like it.” Sakura smiled as she twirled around accidentally whipping his face with her ponytail. Daigo reeled from her unintended attack. As Sakura turned around ( and realized what happened ) she profusely apologized for her actions, but Daigo took it in stride.

After the PC Bang and dinner, Daigo led Kura up to her dorm.

“So Kura need anything else?” Daigo asked politely as he stood in the open doorway. Sakura’s eyes narrowed.

“Yeah your cock.” she says huskily as she slams the door shut with surprising force. She quickly pulls down Daigo’s sweatpants and gets on her knees. She begins to mercilessly suck his cock

“Shit Kura.” Daigo hisses at her aggressive behavior. While it's a bit of a turn-on, it's still shocking she began to fondle his balls hoping to coax a large load from him

“Can you give me two loads for my birthday one large one down my throat and the other in my pussy, I need it,” she said as she came up for air. Before going back down on him. Daigo groans as he hardens in her mouth. After he's reached full mast Sakura smiles

“There we go.” she cooed as she led Daigo to her bedroom. Where she quickly resumed her vacuum-tight seal. As she sucks Daigo off she also lathers his cock with her spit before using her tongue to stimulate the tip before poking his slit with her tongue causing Daigo to jerk his hips. Sakura smiles around his cock. Seeing the usually calm and collected Daigo so flustered encouraged her to suck harder and harder until

“Fuck Kura I'm cumming.” Daigo said in English but Sakura based on his body still got the message as he exploded into her mouth. She kept sucking to extend his orgasm for as long as possible. Daigo eventually had to pry her off of him. Sakura opened her mouth to reveal his load and she swallowed.

“Thank you for the meal,” she said luridly before wiping the drool off her cheek.

The action itself was enough to get Daigo hard again. He dropped his pants fully and ripped Sakura’s off before lining up his cock with her pussy. Sakura gave a sexy lip bite to Daigo driving him wild and he plunged into her. Her sodden pussy greedily accepted the intrusion. Daigo grunted as he bottomed out.

“You're such a slut you know that?” Daigo said with a virile vigor as he whispered huskily into Sakura’s ear. Slowly he pulled out of her. As he did he said, “We go on one date and you're on your knees demanding two loads.” sakura’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. Daigo slammed back into her sex hard sending a ripple through Sakura’s body. Daigo watched with Devilish glee as Sakura’s ass rippled.

“Oh fuck.” Sakura moaned

“Is that it? are you just a breeding bitch in heat needing your stud to fuck and breed you,” Daigo said.

Sakura moaned. Her body tensed around Daigo’s cock at the mention of being bred. She loved it. The thought of being claimed by and filled to the brim made her wetter and tighter.

Daigo thrust into her deeper “Do you like that? Does the thought of being my exclusive breeding bitch make you wet?” Daigo asked.

“Oh God yes. Please make me yours. Ruin all other cocks for me.” Sakura moaned

Watching Sakura’s body and her responses made something click for Daigo “Has my little Breeding bitch been with other cocks. Bad girl.” Daigo said as he smacked her jiggly ass. Sakura’s tone took on an even higher pitch.

“Ah fuck, Ah fuck.” she moaned as Daigo thrusts into her relentlessly he never increases his pace. He keeps the same constant slow in and out but the intensity of the thrust is what wrecks Kura as she nears her climax.

“Are you close?” Daigo asks. Sakura looks over her shoulder and nods.

“Ready to become my breeding bitch forever?” Daigo asks and Sakura nods again giving in to her body’s demands

“Yes ruin and stain my slutty pussy with your cum. All I'll be good for is breeding. Fill me. Make me yours.” Sakura screams before Daigo explodes in her pussy triggering Sakura’s orgasm. Daigo continues to fuck her through it. As Daigo drops more and more cum into Sakura’s cunt her orgasm high raises higher and higher. As their bodies continue a feral heat claims both of them as they continue fucking. Kura’s pussy begins to drip beneath them as Daigo continues to pound her sopping sex.

“Does my breeding bitch like her birthday gift,” Daigo asks with a noticeable lusted husk in his voice.

“Yes.” sakura moans unsatisfied. “I need more. Breed me again.”

“Such a greedy bitch. Do your other cocks make you feel this way?” Daigo questions.

Sakura’s body and mind were now Daigo’s, “no cock has ever claimed me like yours.” sakura said as Daigo kept ravaging her. Sakura’s words and body beginning to affect him as well. He was never this aggressive to a woman but something breeding and Kura activated something within him he didn't know he had, and it bonded him to her as much as she bonded to him.

“Fuck Kura your pussy is so tight.” Daigo praised, and Sakura was elated proud her stud liked her pussy so much.

“Don't you love the way my greedy pussy sucks in your cock.” Sakura said in a lusted daze

“Yeah, my breeding bitch has the best pussy.” Daigo’s unexpected words of praise and his ferocity sent Kura over the edge again and she came again. Gone was the talented, accomplished, confident, and dominant megastar. In her place a dumb submissive and breedable bitch who was a cum dump for her stud. It was liberating to her. Her anxiety washed away with each drop of cum as her thoughts only centered around being bred. She groaned as Daigo kept thrusting into her and he continued to claim her slutty pussy.

Her surprise orgasm however took her partner by surprise and led to him cumming in her again. Sakura’s greedy cunt readily accepted the baby batter, but the fatigue of their activities prior caught up to them and they collapsed onto Kura’s bed together side by side. As they basked in the post-orgasm glow and enjoyed the company of each other a sad realization hit Sakura causing her to pout. As Sakura pouted, Daigo took Notice

“What's wrong Kura?” Daigo asked concern filling his voice.

“Now I'm going to miss you and that dick of yours.” she lamented. Daigo chuckled.

“Well I don't know about that second part but we can still play together.” Sakura’s pout slightly faded before saying

“Okay, but the next time I see you I want the same treatment.”

“What am I your boyfriend now or something?” Daigo teased

“Yes. Yes, you are. As of now, you are my stud and I am your breeding bitch got it?” Sakura asserted

Unsure of how to respond Daigo said “Um okay” Sakura smiled happy to get good games, good food, and good dick for her birthday. With all her needs met she fell asleep in Daigo’s big arms

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #male reader #miyawaki sakura #le sserafim smut #le sserafim sakura #le sserafim fanfic #izone smut #izone sakura

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hallietblr · 11 months

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Omg! I love your writing! You write Conrad so perfectly. Can I please request one with Conrad Fisher where the reader and Conrad are best friends but everyone knows that they love each other because they’re always touchy and affectionate with each other. They even have cute nicknames for each other and everyone else just wants them to get together already. Your blog is amazing ❤️✨

orange bikini, the marina, and ray bands | c.fisher x reader

a/n: thank you so much for the request love! i had a lot of fun writing it, i hope you enjoy <3

warnings: fluff

—

summers were always unforgettable. maybe because you got to spend every moment of it with your best friends. as a local in cousins, you watched different families come and go every summer — only a few of them being regular summer visitors. for example, the fisher and conklin families.

susannah fisher was such a bright light to the lives of the locals, bringing charity events to cousins every summer along with invested a lot of money into the country club. as for her sons, they were just like her. both conrad and jeremiah were bundles of sunshine, like a warm hug, or maybe a refreshing glass of lemonade on a hot summers day.

i had immediately bonded with conrad when i first met him when i was eight and he was ten. we met at the beach and instantly clicked. i soon was introduced to his younger brother, jeremiah, and two family friends, belly and steven. although i spent just as much time with the rest of them as i did with conrad, somehow him and i were always the closest.

despite the small age gap between us, we were like two peas in a pod.

i always looked forward to june since it indicated the start of summer, when my best friends return back to their summer home. i do have close friends here at cousins who are also locals, but the conklin and fisher siblings bring a new sort of fun to my life.

now that i’m sixteen, i stand at the marina dock, working alongside my friend cam. we both got internships with the marine biology department for the summer. i was laughing as cameron shook his brunette curls dry from water from the dive we just came back from. the droplets of water landing on me and my orange bikini.

“cameron!” i squeal, pushing him away, “i swear to god i’ll throw you off this deck if you continue to shower me”

he laughs as he steals my beach towel to dry himself, “you know you love it.”

i roll my eyes before they land on a very familiar red jeep wrangler that parks by the dock. i lift my ray bands off the bridge of my nose and place them on top of my head, i squint harder to see if it was who i thought it was. as the driver door opens, my favourite 6’2 dirty blonde boy steps out — conrad fisher.

he sees me staring at him while standing in just my bikini before a large smile paints across his face. i don’t even notice jeremiah stepping out from the passenger seat as i start running sprinting towards conrad.

he meets me halfway, where the dock began. “oh my god!” i exclaim as i jump into his muscular football player arms. my arms wrap around his neck and legs around his waist as i hug him tightly. he smells like sea salt, coconut sunscreen, and a hint of weed.

conrad has his arms holding my torso as he spins us in circles, “hey beautiful, did you miss me?”

“more than anything” i tell him, lifting my head from the crook of his neck, “you know, nine months is too long to be away from you”

“you say that every year, sunshine” he chuckles, carefully placing me back onto my birkenstock covered feet. his green eyes flicker from my sunkissed face to my chest for a split second.

i feel myself blush at it. he’s grown up a lot since i last saw him in august. his shoulders are broader, his biceps are larger, and his hair is longer. i smile sweetly at him, “because it never changes.”

“alright that’s enough from you two lovebirds. you look great in orange, y/n!” jeremiah compliments me as he pulls me into a squeeze hug, “how are you?”

i hug him tightly, “i’m doing great! cameron and i have been busy since school ended with this marine biology internship — but we get to be by the ocean all day so i’m not complaining!”

jeremiah grind his infamous smile, “sounds like fun! you know, steven and i are working at the country club this summer. time to make some bank!”

i giggle before pulling the brothers into a group hug, “ugh, i’m so happy you guys are finally back! when are belly and steven coming?”

“tomorrow afternoon,” conrad says as we all pull apart. i motion them to follow me down to the dock,

“i want you guys to meet one of my best friends,” i explain as cameron looks up at us and offers a smile, “this is cam, well, cameron. he just moved here last september and we’ve been hanging out since. you know, he’s just as interested in marine biology as i am!”

little did i know, cameron having his arm hanging around my neck ignited a small spark in conrad’s stomach at the sight. conrad gives a weak smile, meanwhile jeremiah daps cam up,

“what’s good, cam cameron! i’m jeremiah” he laughs, “you know, you’re making my brother conrad jealous right now. you have your hands on his future wife”

cam’s eyes go huge, “oh shit! are you two dating? y/n, you never told me you have a boyfriend! that’s my bad, bro.” he quickly apologizes and removes his arm from my shoulders.

“fuck off, jere” conrad says to his younger brother.

i smack jeremiah’s shoulder playfully, “i do not have a boyfriend, i don’t know why jere is making up bull”

“you mind as well be married at this point, considering the amount of hours you two spend texting each other.” jeremiah shrugs as he picks up my colourful printed backpack, “let’s head back to our place, cam you can come too”

cam thanks jeremiah but turns down the offer due to being needed back at his home. the two exchange instagrams so they can make plans later in the summer. with that, cameron runs off to his bike and waves us all goodbye.

conrad and my eyes meet and i can’t help but feel my heart rate pick up at the eye contact. i know i’ve always thought conrad was cute and was more drawn to him, but this felt a lot more different compared to the previous summers together.

i called shotgun as we all raced back to the wrangler, jeremiah pouting as he sits in the back seats. i plug my phone in for aux and start playing my new summer playlist that i just started making.

what once was by hers starts playing loudly from the car stereo as the windows are down and rooftop of the jeep was removed. the sweet summer breeze flowing through the car and our hairs as we all sing our hearts out. conrad has a hand on my knee, massaging it with his thumb while he drives. i try to surprise the butterflies and the heat rising to my cheeks at his actions.

as he parks the car at the familiar white summer home, we all jump out as conrad exclaims to race to the kitchen. he claims that whoever is last is getting thrown into the pool first.

the two fisher boys had an unfair advantage because of their longer legs, thus being able to take longer strides. we make it into the kitchen where susannah stands, smiling her golden smile,

“y/n! sweetheart, look at you!” she coos, pulling me into a warm embrace. she smells like roses and fresh laundry as i hold her tightly, she whispers into my ear, “so when are you and connie making it official? i know how you two feel about each other and he speaks of you so often at home.”

i flush at her comment but smile on response, “it’s so good to see you, susannah.”

she caresses my cheek, “i swear, you get more and more gorgeous every time i see you. plus, that orange bikini top looks absolutely fabulous on you.”

“i look just the same as last summer,” i laugh, “and the summers before that.”

she rolls her eyes playfully, “oh sweetie, don’t brush off my compliments. i mean it, you are glowing! don’t you think, connie?” she asks, looking over at her older son who already has a slight blush across his cheeks.

he smiles, “yeah, yeah you do.”

jeremiah grabs my wrist and pulls me away from his mom, “stop trying to avoid you fate, y/n! time to get thrown into the pool!” he grins, tugging me towards the sliding glass doors.

i squeal as the two both have grips on my arms as i try my best to free myself, “oh, come on! at least let me take off my shorts and ray bands!”

they surprisingly allow me to do so, before conrad grabs my wrists and jeremiah grabs my ankles.

“1…” they count together, starting to swing me back and forth by the edge of the pool.

“2…” i squeeze my eyes shut, preparing myself for the cold pool water.

“3!”

i scream as i’m thrown into the air before splashing into the chlorine water. i swim to the surface of the water with a cheeky idea in mind, i grab a hold of my left ankle and distort my facial feature in discomfort,

“shit!” i cry out, taking a breath from being under water for a moment too long.

conrad immediately straightens up at the sight, “baby, what happened? are you okay?” he panics.

“y/n, are you good?” jeremiah asks, the two having obvious concern laced in their facial expressions.

i shake my head and fake a sob, “i think i sprained my ankle at the bottom of the pool.”

in seconds, conrad removes his burgundy tee shirt in one swift movement before diving into the water. his strong arms lifting me and bringing my legs to wrap around his waist, “fuck, i’m so sorry, pretty girl.” he breathes out, planting two kisses on my forehead, “let me see it.”

he swims us over to the edge of the pool where jeremiah once stood before he left to grab towels and an ice pack. conrad lifts me up effortlessly onto the pool side, beginning to inspect my left ankle,

“wait,” he pauses, noticing no swelling nor bruising.

i couldn’t hold in for much longer before i broke into laughter, “i’m sorry! you should’ve seen the look on your pretty face!”

his worry drops before splashing me with water, “you’re so lucky that i love you.”

i stop laughing and wipe my face dry from water before looking at him, “w- what?”

conrad’s eyes widen at the accidentally confession, “i mean… as a friend of course!”

my heart feels a slight tug at the correction but i smile weakly. why would he love me in the way that i feel towards him? i awkwardly laugh before kicking water back at him, and jumping back into the pool.

“ok good, i got worried for a second” i lie, swimming towards him. his hands subconsciously hold onto the curves of my hips, his green eyes looking deep into mine.

i known him for what feels like forever and i can read him like an open book, well typically. but right now, his expression is unreadable. i’m distracted by him, his hands on me, the explosion of butterflies in my gut, and my heart beating loudly in my ears.

his hand cups my cheek, both of our eyes fluttering close as he pulls me closer to his face. i can feel the slight minty feeling of his breath on my lips before,

“i got the ice!” jeremiah yells, with a loud slam of the glass door which caused conrad and i to jump away from each other.

we almost kissed.

i cant even look at my best friend right now, embarrassed with the bright pink colour of my cheeks as i swim over to jeremiah, “thanks” i say quietly, pretending to ice my ankle.

i watch conrad get out of the pool and dismiss himself to his room,

“did something happen?” jeremiah asks, completely lost and confused of the situation.

#conrad x reader #tsitp x reader #jeremiah fisher x reader #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher fanfiction #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fanfic #tsitp fanfic #tsitp imagine #jeremiah fisher fanfic #jeremiah fisher imagine

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wynnyfryd · 7 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 8

part 1 | part 7 | ao3

He finds himself on Cherry Drive by muscle memory alone. Quarter mile past Maple Street, take the third left, the second right; drive straight through the next stop sign and suddenly the Hagan house is coming into view around the bend, bathed in dim yellow light from a flickering street lamp. A 50s era ranch house, painted brick with a detached one-car garage, weeds sprouting through the crooked old stones of the front walkway and leaves scattered across the lawn in mushy browns and orange-reds.

It's not as nice as Steve's place is.

Was.

Whatever.

Steve blinks, shakes himself fully awake; feels a jolt of fear at the idea that he just drove here in some kind of fugue state because he doesn't know what he's doing here. Tommy left for college, and fuck Tommy, anyway.

He pulls up to the house. Slows the car to a crawl.

It's dark inside, all the lights turned off except for a single table lamp in the entryway window; shaped like a sea turtle, its belly full of blue-green light. Mrs. H. loves the sea.

He wonders if they're out of town or if they're just asleep.

The Hagans go to bed early, he remembers. He spent so many nights talking in a hush in Tommy's room; 8:45pm and they'd be lying side by side on the floor beside his bed, reading comic books or sports mags and whispering about nothing. Tommy'd always thank Steve for coming over because he knew his house was a little boring; he was the kid with old parents who went to bed early and kept the radio turned down and wouldn't let them have sugary snacks even on the weekends. Steve would always just knock their shoulders together and smile 'don't mention it' because he'd hang out with Tommy anywhere.

"Anywhere?" "Yeah, anywhere." "What about in a cave?" "Sure." "Under a bridge?" "Don't see why not." "In the belly of a whale?" "Now you're just being dumb." "Am not!" "Are, too." "Oh, yeah? Well- shut up!"

That was usually the part where they got in trouble for making noise, caught red-faced and laughing while they wrestled on the floor.

There's warmth in his chest at the memory, and that part, he expects.

But also...

Something about it makes heat flare in his gut, shameful and feverish as it flashes through his mind: the phantom press of Tommy above him as he pinned his shoulders down; the way the flush on his cheeks made Tommy's freckles pop; the breathless smile he gave, so close their noses almost brushed...

A light turns turns on in the Hagans' hall.

Steve hits the gas.

He drives for a long while, feeling like an asshole for burning through their precious gas money, but too— too something to fully care. He's alone on a highway with dark pastures blowing by, with the heat on and windows down, and he's circling back toward home when Bruce Springsteen starts to play, all croaky static over the spotty radio.

Born down in a dead man's town. The first kick I took was when I hit the ground.

Steve cranks it up and sings along. The song is cheesy, and he feels stupid, but he also feels free. Like there was a shackle around his throat and he didn't notice until it was gone. He shouts along to the chorus and then just shouts in general; long, guttural screams that feel like poison being purged. Tommy, his dad, the Russians, his mom. All of it, all of it spewing out of him into the cold night air.

He misses Carol suddenly. Her acidic attitude. The way it always ate through the worst of his sullen moods.

He can picture her now: perched on someone's lap in the crowded backseat, no seatbelt, manicured hand braced on the ceiling. She'd be smacking bubblegum and twirling a lock of her hair, and she'd roll her eyes at Steve's dramatics and ask whether he was done untwisting his panties yet. Steve would say something dumb and pervy in response, like, "Too busy dealing with girls' panties to focus on my own," and she'd roll her eyes harder and go, "God, you're fucking gross."

Carol's not here, though, so he just screams about her, too.

When he get back to Forest Hills his voice is hoarse. His body is tired; his soul is light. He's thinking, like: maybe he'll be okay. He'll channel his inner Claudia or Joyce and soldier on. Resilience, and all that shit.

He's almost smiling to himself when he turns into the park.

And then he sees the flashing lights.

There's an ambulance on his lot.

—

part 9

just gonna start tagging whoever commented the day before (if your settings will let me) bc i have the memory of a goldfish @a-little-unsteddie @slowandsteddie @pennyplainknits @thesuninyaface @hotluncheddie @messrs-weasley @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @blackpanzy @disrespectedgoatman @i-have-three-feelings @sirsnacksalot @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #tommy hagan #carol perkins #my writing #my fics #angst

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jellyclogs · 9 months

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how op men react to you calling them darling prt.2

characters: Zoro, Sabo, Sanji, Marco, Buggy

y/n has she/her pronouns

Zoro:

“Excuse me?” Zoro laughed.

Your face was suddenly on fire. You hadn't meant to call him darling. You had meant to just ask, “Have you eaten.” you repeated. He looked way too much like the leading man in the romance novel you were reading. It wasn't your fault you called him darling it was the dam books.

“You're missing a part,” Zoro smirked, he was enjoying how flustered you were, it was pretty dang cute.

“Did you eat or not?” you huffed crossing your arms.

“Yeah I did,” he shot you a teasing look, “Darling.”

You thought your face was on fire before… well now it really had to be. You turned and rushed away from him. You might burst into flames from the intensity of your embarrassment. You were going to burn that novel.

“Something wrong darling?” he called after you in a laugh.

Sabo

“Hay Darling could you pass me those papers,” you called to the blond as he was passing your desk painting to a stack of paper across the room from you. You were so engrossed in your work that you hadn't even realized what you'd said.

Sabo froze, a smile coming to dance across his lips, “No problem sweetheart,” he said without skipping a beat. He grabbed the stack of paper before setting them on your desk.

You glanced up at him a puzzled look on your face, “Sweetheart?” you hummed, “What with the pet name Sabo?” you quirked a brow

Sabo’s smile grew, “You're the one who started it.” he wished he could snap a picture of the look you had on your face, it was priceless.

You tilted your head to the side. It took an almost embarrassingly long time for you to relize what you had said to him. You bit your lip before smiling, “I guess your right darling. I did start this,” you purred.

Sabo's face flushed, “Don't use that voice on me, sweetheart,” he leaned down resting his hands on your desk, “and don't start a game you can't win.” his voice had dropped an octave, it was now low and sultry.

“I'm not sure what game you're referring to darling,” you leaned forward laying on the seductive tone even harder, “But if I did I'm sure I'd win.”

Sobo leaned even closer, his eyes were very intense, “Come on sweetheart, you know you'd lose.”

Before the game you two were playing cold get out of hand Kola stepped in. She slapped the back of both of your heads hissing, “Oh cut it out both of you.” she shook her head, a small smile on her lips.

Sanji:

You smiled to yourself as you baked. You were in the process of making marbled brownies. You made a dark chocolate batter followed by a pumpkin batter before swirling them together. You popped your creation into the oven before beginning to clean up your mess. It was currently 1:30 a.m., so you knew you had plenty of time to leave it spotless. Sanji would not wake up till 5 am

You knew that using the kitchen without Sanji's approval could be a dangerous game but you just had to. You would ask Sanji to forgive you later. There was no way you could ask him to use the kitchen not when you were trying to surprise him. You were making him a birthday treat.

You spent the 40 minutes it took for the brownies to bake to clean the kitchen till the floor sparkled. You pulled the pan of brownies out of the oven, they were perfectly baked nice crunchy corners and an ooey gooey center. You were no professional but you could bake like one.

You set the brownies on the counter along with a box of expensive black tea you bought him from a few islands ago. You spent the next ten minutes debating whether or not you'd leave a note. Finally, you gave in to yourself and left a note. “Happy birthday darling,” you wrote out in your nicest handwriting before singing it in the bottom right corner.

Glancing at the clock you read the time was 2:25 am. You skittered out of the kitchen and headed to bead. You sent a silent prayer to whatever god was listening Luffy wouldn't get hungry for a snack before Sanji woke up.

######

Sanji got out of bed at Five a.m. sharp. It may have been his birthday but he would not skip out on his job. He was the ship's cook and he'd be damned if he didn't cook them a proper breakfast. His birthday would be mad special when he saw the look of delight on Nami’s, Robins's, and (y/n)’s faces when they ate the breakfast he made.

He pulled on clean clothes before heading to the kitchen. He needed a cup of nice strong black tea to wake him up. He almost slipped into his normal routine till his eyes landed on a pan on the counter. He rushed over to it wondering which member of the crew had left him a dirty dish to deal with.

He stopped in front of the pan when he saw it was full, someone had made brownies he felt confused. He then noticed the box of tea next to it. The tea looked expensive. He picked it up and read over the container. He realized it was a tea that he'd put back after he realized he didn't have the budget for it a few islands ago. His eyes finally landed on the little slip of paper resting on the top of the brownies.

“Happy Birthday Darling” he read glancing down to the signature. He felt his heart raced as he read (y/n)’s name. When had she had the time to make this? He looked around the kitchen trying to find evidence of her baking but it was spotless.

He hugged the note to his chest, feeling tears in his eyes. He hadn't expected much for his birthday. This was so much more than what he expected. He decided to not start his prep for breakfast yet. He brewed himself a cup of his new tea, cut himself a brownie, lit a cigarette, and sat down. He could take a bit of time to appreciate the gift.

######

You were pulled out of bed by Nami at 7 a.m. You were honestly in no mood to be awake, that was until you remembered that it was Sanji’s birthday. You got up stretching and yawning.

You and Nami walked to the kitchen together. You couldn't wait to see how Sanji had reacted to your little surprise. Before you entered the kitchen you whispered into Nami’s ear, “Don't forget to tell Sanji happy birthday.”

She rolled her eyes at you… hard.

Then the two of you walked in. “Good morning Sanji.” You smiled at him.

Sanj slowly and deliberately walked across the kitchen to stand in front of you. He stared into your eyes for a long moment before hugging you. “Thank you, princess,” he whispered kissing your forehead and walking away, A trickle of blood running from his nose.

Marco:

You were sick, you had a fever, your nose was running and you had the chills. You stumbled from the room you shared with Marco to the infirmary. You knew he had to be there since he wasn't in the room with you. You always got needy when you were sick.

You made it there to see Marco working on paperwork. He was slumped over at his desk working like there was no tomorrow. You knew his work was important but at the moment you couldn't care less about it. You just wanted your lover to come cuddle with you and make you feel a little better.

“Darling,” you whimpered as you made it to his desk, “Will you come cuddle with me?” you sounded absolutely pathetic. If your voice alone had not convinced him to come to bed with you then the way you looked forced his hand. You had a pout on your face the comforter of your shared bed wrapped around you.

Marco looked up from the paperwork he was working on, “You really shouldn't be out of bed.” he said a smile on his lips as he shook his head.

“I don't wanna be alone. Darling, please come to bed with me.” The pout on your face mixed with the flush of fever made you look more than cute.

Marco laughed, you only ever called him darling when you wanted him to do something for you. He wanted to pretend like it wasn’t an effective strategy but couldn't. Whenever you called him darling he was putty in your hands, “OK my little bird I'll come back to bed with you.” he sighed.

Your pout turned into a smile as you heard his words, “Thank you.” Even with your slightly scratchy voice, Marco found your voice soothing.

Marco stood up from his desk and walked over to you. He easily swept you off of your feet, carrying you bridal style, “Let's get you back to bed before you share this cold with someone.” he had no worries about getting sick himself, ever since he ate the phoenix phoenix fruit he was immune to most colds and illnesses.

“If you leave me there I'm gonna follow you.” You leaned into his chest closing your eyes already feeling sleepy.

Marco just shook his head. He knew for a fact you weren't joking. He sighed, for the sake of the crew he’d better stay with you. He tried to be upset about having to stay in bed with you but he couldn't manage it.

Buggy

You laid in bed next to Buggy. Your lover had his back to you as he slept You had had a nightmare and couldn't get yourself to fall asleep. You didn't want to wake him up, but you really wanted him to hold you. You didn't need to talk about the nightmare you just needed to be in his arms. You hesitantly reached a handout and shook his shoulder, “Please wake up darling.” you whispered.

Buggy was usually a heavy sleeper but the fear in your voice made him instantly roll over. With sleep still fogging his senses he asked, “What’s the matter, honey?” he looked at you with tired but concerned eyes.

“I'm sorry to wake you but would you please just hold me?” you asked in a soft and apologetic voice.

Buggy studied your face for a long moment before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest. It didn't take a genius to tell you were upset. The look you had on your face was heartbreaking, “Don't be,” he mumbled, “Do you want to tell me what's wrong now or in the morning.” his voice sounded grumpy but you could tell he truly did want to make you feel better.

“In the morning darling,” you close your eyes already feeling like you could sleep again, “please just go back to sleep.” You kissed his cheek.

He grunted in response holding you tighter. He would sleep now, but in the morning he'd find out what had upset you. You were his flashy little partner and he would not neglect you. It did not take him long to fall back to sleep.

The sound of his heart and the feeling of his chest rising and falling quickly calmed you down. You found it much easier to sleep. You found yourself falling back to sleep rather quickly.

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loganlermanstanaccount · 10 months

Text

Rigor Mortis (part 3)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 2, Part 4

summary: A bad day turns even worse. Miguel surprises you.

warnings: angst angst angst, mentions of grief, very vague mention of domestic violence and abuse.

recommended reading: the painting Ophelia by John Everett Millais, and the song Ophelia by the lumineers.

a/n: i lowkey suck at communicating my "big" ideas so i really really hope this makes sense!

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 3.8k

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

they were here, she says,

You’ve had your share of bad days.

Oh God , enough to fill an A4 binder with. For example, knocking out that tooth when you were twelve. A butterfly effect of fuck ups that led to a scuffle at school: blood in your mouth, a tooth on the ground, and a looong suspension. You received quite the earful at home, that day.

And then there was telling your parents you had dropped out of college. Telling them you were moving halfway across the country with your boyfriend. Breaking up with said boyfriend in your favourite diner; thus sullying Pam’s waffles and pancakes with the bitter taste of… oh-fuck-I-don’t-know-how-I’ll-afford-an-apartment-now. Oh, and heartbreak – although that wasn’t as immediate.

Scratch that, the day of the breakup had been fairly mundane. Pleasant, even. Jamie had an off day, and you only had a few lectures. He didn’t tell you, of course, so meeting him in the apartment was a surprise. You’re home earlier than usual, and you can’t quite bear to wake him up; slumped on the sofa like an old cat. He’s tired, lectures and clerkships running him ragged for the past few years. Only a year out until residency, with bags under his eyes as proof, and you see him less and less. All things considered, you’re glad to spend the rest of the day with him.

You’d spent too long after the break up analysing the days leading up to it: for a sign, something in his behaviour that would’ve warned you. And so, you remember it quite vividly: kicking your shoes off, putting your bag down, and sinking into the sofa next to him. You curl into him, looking up at his face: steady, tempered breathing. Something at your chest, solid and heavy. He looks peaceful, happy; and you haven't seen that side of him in quite a while.

When you shift against him, you knock against his shoulder. Jamie stirs, groggy, and eyes adjusting to the light. The first thing he sees as he wakes is you; romantic, in theory. His expression is etched into your subconscious; stark and stiff like a marble statue, or a tombstone. A flash of disappointment, lip drawn in what seemed like disgust – but only for a moment.

" Morning , baby." You squeeze his side, and take his hand into yours. That look ; it's gone almost as quickly as it came.

"Thought…" He frowns, fighting dregs of sleep. "I thought you would be back later."

"Nope." You give him a smile and he returns with one that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He puts a hand on your cheek.

"Morning," Probably tired, he sighs deeply. You move on with the day. And he breaks up with you, not even 6 hours later.

You had had 4 years of that: good days, bad days, but most of them had been… mundane. Boring. Not quite the heat and intensity of true love, as the movies had gaslighted you into believing in.

You like the old black and white ones the best. Old fashioned, old-timey folk; declarations of love in tinny transatlantic accents. Suddenly, you’re on the floor of your childhood bedroom; eyes wide at the Sound of Music. Maria and Von Trapp hand in hand: her dress billowing, the flash of white glove on the small of her back. Love, love, love; and your lack of it.

You feel its loss all the same.

Despite all your efforts – including a dash to the station that could rival an Olympic sprinter – you were late to your first lecture. Sweaty, out of breath, and ambushed with a pen and paper; thrust into your hands on arrival. You look around to see dozens of heads down, scribbling furiously. A surprise test – and you’re late.

Hand aching, you barely finish within the two hours, after bullshitting your way through at least half of the questions. By the looks of the people streaming out of the hall; faces rumpled and grimacing; you’re not the only one. However, it does little to comfort you. You’re sure you're the only one failing so spectacularly, with the semester already half over.

You'd smacked your leg on the coffee table on the way out and a book had slammed to the floor. An art book, the kind in a model home - and you know damn well Miguel's not an enthusiast. The image sticks for some reason, leg aching as you trudge to your next class. When he gives you that blank look; the memory of men gone past is haunting – dead-eyed, and blank, like eyes cut out of a painting. You wonder if a Van Gogh would feel the same with the brilliant blue of eyes slashed out.

Nevertheless, you feel like lead. Off

to your next class, and it's going over material passed out the day before; which you didn’t have the time to look over. The professor drones on; voice monotonous and gravelly. Struggling to keep up, you sink into your seat – tapping away at your laptop, whatever you can get down. You pick at your lip, unravelling; unfurling like the tip of a slashed rope.

That's what you’re waiting for, you think: sandbags clattering down from stage left, to bring the rest of this whole farce down.

A sinking feeling, that starts at your chest and makes its way to the tops of your fingers and toes, leaves you numb for the rest of the day. Dread, like a shadow, at your heels in the corridors, across the courtyard, all around campus. Another lecture, and you make it in time for labs, barely, but there’s no time to go over notes; what you managed to scrape together in preparation. And of course , your lab partner’s sick, because that’s just the kind of day you’re having. It’s hectic, doing the work of two people with only the scraps you’ve cobbled together.

The pressure mounts. Like liquid in that flask you weren’t meant to stopper; and you just might end up like its remnants on the counter. Glass everywhere but where it should be. For a good grade, it helps to be organised: everything in its place, always. Except it isn’t, and you’ve fucked it up, again . It means the results don’t match up in your lab book, and another hour staring at liquid decanting, monitoring temperatures. Staring at stark white walls, with achy legs.

You step out whilst machines run in your stead, and shed your lab coat. It’s hot and stuffy in there but out in the corridor, you can finally breathe. Forehead on the cool wall, it all stops for a moment. The persistent buzz of your phone, sat in the pocket of your trousers, creeps into the quiet.

Absent-mindedly, you turn it on with a click. The buzzing stops. You’ve just missed a call from Miguel. It’s odd, he doesn’t usually call, but it’s the little box underneath the notification that makes you pause. A message, from a number you thought you’d blocked – that you should’ve blocked.

From:Jamie <3

Hey

From:Jamie <3

We should meet. I’ve still got some of your things in the apartment.

Your blood runs cold. Dread, like a shadow; its hand wrapped your neck. You can’t breathe, stuck under the weight of something at your chest. You can’t breathe, the walls close in. We should meet , he says. Like it’s the easiest thing in the world; just friends catching up over a coffee. Like you didn’t watch him carve out a chunk of your heart with a rusty spoon.

A panic attack, and you’re awkwardly hunched over by the wall, phone in hand. Someone will find you here, lying on the vinyl floor in Block B, spread eagle between lab 6 and 7. Dramatic timing, but if it kills you; you’ll find a way to haunt your ex's ass for the foreseeable future. And Miguel’s too, because if you’re having a bad day; then somewhere out there, he’s having a good one.

~~~

The apartment is still when Miguel gets back – unusually so. You’re not on the sofa, watching a mindless soap opera, or howling some song in the shower. And he’s had to deal with that most days for the past few weeks, a break in the peace and quiet he’s so carefully cultivated. Rigorous routine, they keep him together. He needed it; the way myth needs a martyr, the way flowers on a small grave needs a body. A tick-tick-tick in his head, that drives him a little less crazy after a morning run, or a good meal when he comes home. A countdown, he thinks, a mechanical clock whirring and puttering with a shake of its gears. He feels them stutter and start, slowing down, but not quite stopping. An ache so deep, he feels its creak with every step.

Absent-mindedly, he looks around the empty apartment, pulling at his ears.

When he was younger, Gabi would pull at his ears, to get him out of a book. Reading, always reading, whenever he could. At the dinner table, when his mamá would rap his knuckles with a wooden spoon and chuckle lightly at his little grimace. No en la mesa, Miguelito. Not at the table, Miggy. Léeme más tarde – read it to me later.

It was when he got his braces, and picked up a slight lisp. He stopped talking for a while, not completely; but a lot less, not as interactive in lessons. And it was always little Miguel, at the front of the class with his hand up to answer. It didn’t help that Gabi poked fun at him, often sneaking up to him to hiss in his ear: palms pressed together with a slithering motion, and then a strike to his ribs like una víbora - a viper , struggling to say his S’s. They’d fight because of it after, tousling on the floor of their bedroom in a mass of limbs, like pythons squeezing prey. Or at least, until their mamá rushed to separate them.

She didn’t like it when her boys fought; so they’d been forced to make up every time. He still has the scars to prove it.

Car magazines at first, and then the newspaper, whatever book he had picked up at the library that week. Even with his lisp, his mother made sure he read to her, and sometimes to Gabi as well, at least once a week. Looking back, she was never perfect; the things he knows now about his dear mamá, and her visage tumbles like Ozymandias in the sand. Her mother, married to a piece-of-shit mechanic; and his mother, elbow deep in the oil spill. That’s the funny thing about love, he thinks. Love, and the lack of it; dripping through the cracks, passed on through generations. Maybe mamá felt the gears shuddering in her chest. He hopes Gabi was saved from that burden.

A small voice at the back of his mind tells him: it’s not enough. Doesn’t explain the little boy pulling at his ears, in Miguel’s jacket and dress shoes.

A glimpse in the reflection of a shiny pan on the side table, and he looks like shit. Eyebags, a permanent scowl, shadowy lines that prick at the corners of his eyes. It’s ironic, crows feet without the penchant for laughing. He thinks you’d find it funny. The pink and purple of a setting sun spills in through windows and makes him sigh. It’s late, and you’re still not home.

God, you're strange; sticking your nose where you shouldn't. Disrupting the calm of his apartment. A sanctuary, and you've got your grubby paws all over it. Your shit is all over the place; pun-based mugs in the cabinet, chewed pen lids with no pens in sight, a blanket on the couch. The same blanket, a ratty old thing, that he usually meets you wrapped in when he gets back. A creature of habit, he folds it up; trying to ignore the whispers of your perfume, sweet and heady on the fabric.

He gets dressed, starting with dinner; knife on a chopping board cutting onions and peppers into cubes. It's therapeutic, the steady thud ringing out into the kitchen. Quiet, for a fleeting moment. But the worry, it sticks ; despite his better judgement. Before he changes his mind, he clicks open his phone to call you. It rings out – you don’t pick up.

The urge to call again is surprisingly troublesome, so he shoves it down with a piece of tortilla. It sits in his chest, regardless.

~~~

You trudge into the apartment. Squelch seems more accurate, sopping wet as you step out of waterlogged trainers. It was an inopportune time to wear jeans and forget a jacket – and you fight the urge to wring out onto the wooden planks. Miguel would kill you; the place was already falling apart, and water-warped floorboards might just be the last straw.

It’s thundering outside; a torrential downpour you’d just been dragged through. Dragged, half-running through streets-turned-streams, with nothing but a tank top and hoodie on your back. And you must look a sight , eyes bleary and slick with rainwater. The bag heavy on your back goes first, slipped off your shoulder and on the floor next to the coffee table with a thunk . You’re unzipping the flimsy canvas, inspecting its contents. A soaked through textbook, clumps of loose paper. You’re ready to cry when you see what's happened to the pages of your lab book; bleeding ink that’s only half-legible. But it’s the state of your laptop that makes your chest really heave and knees weak.

It’s slick with rainwater, and the sandwich you’d forgotten to eat, smeared across its fans. Caked on, more accurately; an odd sludge that you try your best to wipe away. You put it on the coffee table and your hand shakes as you press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead.

You sink onto the floor, head in your hands between the coffee table and the couch. Everything was on there: photos from senior prom, end of semester projects – your whole life. You have to dig your teeth into your bottom lip to bite back a scream.

Miguel peers from the kitchen, watching your silent breakdown. Quiet, and so still, with only the slight shake of shoulders to tell him that something is wrong. He glances at your half-opened laptop. He’d eaten already, clearing up what remains of his dinner and this is the sight he’s greeted with: the lady of the lake, lain between the reeds.

He shakes the image out of his head, and walks over. You feel a tentative prod, and look up.

“...I called you,” He says lightly, scratching at his neck.

You blink up at him. He thinks you look like a painting, watery and forlorn, framed in the yellow light of the soft bulbs.

“I was busy,” It’s not said with malice, nor as lilting as your usual sarcasm. Plain, simple. Busy. Your head slumps back into the little hollow you’ve made with your arms.

And so he sits, shoulders brushing against yours. He’s frustratingly patient, presence warm and comfortable despite… well, despite everything.

You can’t help it. Popping back up, you state, “You never call, though.”

“You’re never this late home.” Home. The word is heavy, knocks you onto your heels.

“So?” You shrug. “Could’ve been out with friends, or at a club–”

Laughter slips out like apples loose in a bag, spills onto the floor. Crisp, sweet; but you glare at him all the same.

“You don’t have friends.” He says it with the remnants of a smile, teasing. A challenge, and you’re more than happy to accept.

“ Not true , fuckface.” It is. You'd lost track of most of your friends after moving – and all the ones you made here? Your friends were Jamie's friends, and they chose him in the divorce. " You don't have any friends."

"I do ."

"You don't." It's your turn to scoff. "It's a Friday night and you're in here, washing up and planning to go to bed at a reasonable time."

"I'm an adult, doesn't mean I don't have–"

"The ones you fuck don't count." And then you pinch the bridge of your nose. "God forbid, if that's how you treat your friends…"

He laughs, properly, and you feel it in your chest too: the kind of laughter that bubbles like little breaths rising to the top of a lake.

“M’serious.” He says it in between gasping breaths and you try to steady your own giggles. "And, I have a friend who could take a look at your laptop, if you wanted."

His eyes flick over to the crime scene besides you. It's sweet, but.. "It's gone, Miguel, I know. You don't need to… try and make me feel better."

" Chula ," He flicks the deep lines forming at your brow. You look up and he says, softly, "I'm not trying to make you feel better. I'm trying to get you off of the floor so I can mop up that puddle."

With the way he says it, with that little smile, you don't believe him.

Now he's got your attention, he says, "You could've skipped that 9:00am. Or just been late. Don't think it would've mattered."

"Maybe." You shake your head. "M'not the best student. I'm blindingly… average. Just wanted it to be different, this year."

Your voice crackles, leaves something in the air he can't quite name. Quiet, again, except this time it's thicker. Smoke, ash, rolling clouds of melancholy in the little front room. For once, he doesn't know what to say.

You've got your head back on the sofa now, with a deep sigh. You look at the ceiling, and he's looking at you. It's the first time he's able to really study your features, trace the outline of your lips and sloping cheekbone. Your lashes, damp with little droplets of water, look crystalline in the light. Sparkling. Like the paintings depicted in the hefty book sat on his coffee table. He's read that one, twice , cover-to-cover in a fit of… insanity, maybe. He's not a man of frills and fancy, didn't really get it; nor why Gabi had given him the book in the first place. It felt like a filler piece, something to put on the little table and forget about, or to prop up a wooden leg. But that's not how his brother works, frustratingly convoluted. It's stupid, Miguel thought. Everything had to mean something , or what was it good for?

But looking at you, here, like this ; it clicks. Reaching over for the book, he leans it against the flat of his thigh. And you see it in the corner of your eye, watching as he flicks through the pages. Filled with art, it's the kind of thing on a table in a model apartment: a space-filler in a false home. When you first came here, the starkness and severity of the space had stuck. To you, the book had only reinforced it. Who was Miguel? A serial killer for all you know, stocking fluff pieces and coffee table books; only pretending to be human.

Finally, he stops, finger over a specific place. A double page spread, of surprisingly good quality.

He clicks his tongue. " This one. "

You follow his finger. A woman in a lake doesn't do it justice. It's beautiful, but it doesn't mean anything to you.

" Ophelia, John Everett Mills, 1852 ." He reads out the little label at the bottom of the image. "Like from Hamlet."

You shrug. "I don't…?"

"Well, she's in love with Hamlet, and then her father's murdered, Hamlet fucks off; and she's left heartbroken, goes mad because of it , arguably–"

"I've taken tenth grade English, Miguel. I don't get what that has to do with anything."

"She drowns herself. Also arguably, to be fair," He chews his lip, thinking. "Slipped off the bark of a willow tree, into a brook. Incapable of her own distress, or something. Drowns. Do you know how horrible drowning feels? How violent? And yet–"

He taps the page, and you come a little closer. Beautiful. She's beautiful.

"I'll admit it, I'm not a big fan of Shakespeare. Gabi – my brother – is way better at this stuff than me. Drama and intrigue and–" He gestures vaguely. "– love . That's why he likes it, apparently. And I… I know someone who really liked this page; I think it was the colours, or the flowers…? She said it looked like a photo, and that the woman looked so pretty in the water."

He pauses, dead-eyed. He's rambling, only taking a breath to compose himself." I… didn't have the heart to tell her that Ophelia, in this painting, is dead. Dead as a fucking doornail. Dragged through still water, sentenced to death by her passivity and grief – but you wouldn't know it."

Unconsciously, you trace the outline of her hair with your finger; swirling locs that blend into muddy reflections. She's on her back and fully dressed; a beaded skirt billowing out into the water. On her back and looking up, like you were on the sofa just a moment ago. Oh. Oh . You blink at the image. Flowers, peppered around to frame Ophelia in her watery grave. It doesn't look like a grave from where you're sitting, but there's a body in the water all the same.

There's a lump in your throat. Grief; the loss of 4 years of your life in a middling relationship, the aftermath of dead eyes and brilliant blue slashed from a canvas frame. Grief, rising to the surface like a bloated carcass. You thought you'd bound its ankles to cinder blocks and tossed it in a river long ago.

"I'm probably overstepping. For that, I'm sorry, and I mean it. But I think there's something else. I..I hear you rattling around at night; and sometimes, when I look at you..."

Your eyes are glassy, tears threatening to spill over. You’re hearing him but you don’t quite understand. Does he know? God, does he know?

"...it reminds me of this painting. You remind me of Ophelia .”

He sighs, turning to you.

“I know how it feels. And I think this shit is going to kill you, if you're not careful."

~~~

He doesn't talk about it. He runs off to start the shower, bundles you into towels and leaves you reeling. God, it's like you've been shot – barely a 10 minute conversation and he's cracked open your ribs to root around in what's left of you. He sees you; wades through the undergrowth and cuts through the bulllshit - he sees you.

You couldn't even answer. That's what stings the most.

You’ve settled on the sofa, cross-legged and still fresh from the shower. There’s a documentary on the TV; mindless background to Miguel clattering in the kitchen. He’s putting together some leftovers, even though you insisted that you weren’t hungry, that you’ve already eaten. Well , he had pointed to the gunk caked onto your laptop, wasn’t that the problem in the first place?

He’s good at it; wraps you up in the blanket you always keep draped on the cushions, and hands you a full plate. Wordlessly, because you suppose he’s said everything he needed to. Dutifully, he takes care of you, without a word; the strain of cutting you open on the coffee table clearly too much to bear.

You thank him, and he settles on the armchair opposite, mug of coffee in hand. The gloom of the TV bathes him in light, cuts his cheekbones and jaw just so. One of your mugs in his lap, and he's in a thick knitted sweater. His hair kisses the tops of his lashes, but he brushes it away. You swallow thickly, and when he turns, you look away.

“...You okay?” He asks, confused.

You nod, unable to speak. He gives you a small smile, the corners of his eyes crinkled up like crepe paper. You return it with one of your own.

He sees you. Finally, you see him too.

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#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #kat_writes😼#spiderman 2099 #angst #lots of angst #atsv x reader #miguel o'hara angst

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arkhamknightz · 8 months

Text

LACY

pairing: dick grayson x reader (blurb)

summary: his new “girlfriend” is too perfect to hate

warnings: no actual plot really, jealous!reader, platonic damian x reader, shitty writing, built around lacy by olivia rodrigo

notes: i wasnt sure whether i should write this for jason or not but it fit dick so well… anywho this is more kinda focused on lacy and less about dick himself, as its how the songs written so! also this is short sorry i just needed to post something

No matter how hard you tried, you simply couldn’t come up with a reason to hate her. Everything about her was angelic, it wasnt hard to see why Dick liked her so much.

You watched as Dick and Lacy walked into the charity gala that Bruce was hosting. She smiled brightly at you as your eyes met with hers, confidence radiating off of her as she walked over to you before greeting you and pulling you into a hug. You looked over her shoulder to see Dick walking towards the both of you, a grin plastered on his face.

“I didn’t think you were coming!” He smiled watching the both of you before wrapping his arm around her waist and kissing her head as he looked at you. “Who’d you come with?” he tilts his head in question.

You laughed and shook your head. “Nobody, I actually came to keep Damian company, we both know how much he hates these things and I promised I would come the next time Bruce hosted so we could sneak out and grab some actual food.”

Dick smiled as you took a glance over your shoulder at Damian, who had a glare plastered on his face as he looked around the gala. You turned back to face them just in time to see Dick being dragged off by Lacy to one of the mini tables to grab some food, a bright shade of pink painted on both of their faces. Her perfume lingered in the air as they left you alone. They were staring at eachother, smiling and giggling as they spoke in whispers to each other.

You saw nothing but her the whole night. Everywhere you seemed to turn, her and Dick were huddled together quietly talking, her arm looped through his. It wasn’t long before you felt a small tap on your arm, Damian quietly spoke. “Are you just going to sit and stare at them the whole time? I would like to leave now.” You turned around to look at him and smiled before letting out a small laugh. “Alright buddy let’s go.”

You and Damian sat in your car, his hand tapping on the side of the passenger door. “Are you and Richard having… problems?” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Damian spoke up. “I mean, you spent the whole time staring. I’d assume theres an issue between the both of you.”

You shook your head. “Nothing’s wrong with me and Dick.” His face scrunched up. “You’re lying.” You turned into the parking lot of a fast food place. “It’s… complicated. It’s just, I can’t dislike her Damian. She’s so incredibly nice and she always compliments me when she sees me and she always makes sure to text every other day just to check in!” He shook his head. “I don’t see why you need a reason to dislike her. I personally dislike whoever I want.”

You let out a laugh, Damian trying to surpress a smile as you doubled over in your seat. “Oh god, I wish that’s how it worked buddy I really do. But she doesn’t deserve that you know? I can’t just hate her because she’s with Dick. I mean come on shes absolutely perfect for him…” He let out a quiet hum. “Well, I’m sure I could get Timothy to dig something up about her.”

You lightly shoved his shoulder laughing. “As much as I appreciate the effort, it won’t change anything. Let’s just grab our food and our ice cream and head back to the manor alright?”

Dick and Lacy walked into the manor, you and Damian were sat in the main living room, Alfred the Cat laid on your leg. “Oh hey!” Lacy smiled at both you and Damian, the boy shooting her a glare. “Mind if we join you guys?” Dick spoke up, his jacket draped over her shoulders. “Yes actually, I do mind.” Damian spoke up before reaching down to pet the cat.

You looked over at them, a small shrug of your shoulders before looking back at Damian and pressing play on the TV. You looked back at Dick as you watched him walk down the hall, Lacy’s hand intertwined with his. A small pit formed in your stomach, oh how you wish that could’ve been you.

Damian quietly spoke up. “I don’t see why you like Richard of all people, because he’s definitely not the smartest.” You furrowed your brows. “What’s that mean?” He let out a small chuckle. “His shirt was inside out the whole night.”

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #young justice #teen titans #titans #lacy olivia rodrigo #olivia rodrigo songfic #nightwing x reader #nightwing #robin x reader #robin #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x platonic reader #damian wayne

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wileys-russo · 8 months

Text

handyman II l.williamson x reader

just a cute little ficlet based on this request here. handyman II l.williamson

"-love do you have to stop at every single display room?" leah sighed with a tired smile as you collapsed on yet another sofa you had no intention of buying. "lee it's all a part of the experience! come, sit with me." you patted the brown leather with a beaming grin that leah just couldn't say no to as she wandered over and sat beside you.

"now. imagine this is our home-" you started, gesturing to the made up room around you as leah hummed, watching you with a fond smile. "-that's my desk. i put it by the window so that when i work from home i can see outside and people watch." you started, gesturing for leah to continue.

"okay uhh, that's all our photo albums on the bookshelf there. we spent a weekend together making them, they have all of our trips together, special times in our life, dates, our wedding, our kids first moments and experiences." leah smiled softly as you gave her a look of surprise, the blonde not having mentioned children before with you, let alone so casually.

"we mounted the tv to the wall because the kids kept kicking a ball in the house and knocking it over, because someone lets them do it when im not home to tell them off." you teased, leahs happy grin in return making your heart warm at the thought of one day starting a family with her.

"babe this is really fun and all but if we don't shift it the paint warehouse will close and it's not open again until Tuesday." leah checked the time, patting your knee and standing, pulling you with her.

she kept a close eye on you as the two of you made your way through the rest of ikea, grabbing what you needed as leah subtly removed the random things you threw in that she knew you didn't, holding your hand and gently tugging you away as you continued to try and stop at every single room.

"no i think it's that one." you disagreed with your blonde lover who sighed, her patience wearing thin as she paused to calm herself. "it's that one baby, look at the label and the numbers-" she showed you the tag on her phone.

"no because thats a nine, and thats a six!" you argued with her, leah pinching the bridge of her nose. "fine! we'll get the one you want and when it's wrong you can return it on monday while i'm at training." leah decided, her thin veil of tolerance breaking.

you wanted to tell her off for the snide comment, but found yourself far too distracted by her muscles as she grabbed the last flat pack you needed and slid it onto the trolley, opting to roll her sleeves up to her shoulders earlier in the day.

leah impatiently turned around to tell you to hurry up as she wheeled off the trolley and noticed you weren't by her side, but seeing the way your eyes had lightly glazed over and were fixated on her arms a small smirk made its way to her face.

"when you're done drooling over me baby girl i think there's a mop a few aisles back to clean it up." leah teased, snapping you out of it as you hurried to catch up with her, punching her lightly as she stole a kiss, bad mood melted away.

that didn't last very long though.

"babe oh my god just read the instructions!" you groaned, dragging your hand down your face as your girlfriend shook her head stubbornly. "i don't need them, i'm telling you its missing a piece!" leah crossed her arms over her chest, glaring down at the half built coffee table.

"you're so fucking stubborn leah honestly." you grumbled to yourself, snatching the instructions off the floor where she'd tossed them aside, the comment not lost on your girlfriends ears who scowled at you over her shoulder.

"my god leah." you inhaled sharply, squeezing your eyes shut after they'd scanned the paper in your hands. "what?" she huffed, scowl still built into her features. "you've put the fucking top on the wrong way and the base is backwards." you held out the instructions toward her.

"what!" leah scoffed in disbelief, snatching them off of you, face paling as she realised you were correct. "just fix it. i'm going to start putting everything else away in the kitchen." you rolled your eyes, storming out of the room.

leah gave you your space for a few hours, focusing all of her energy into building as much furniture she could, now making sure to actually use the instructions.

the two of you had been bickering relentlessly all weekend over the tiniest of things and though you both knew none of the small tiffs meant anything, those few hours without them were much needed.

the two of you had just bought your very first home together.

you'd lived together for a couple of years, renting and falling even more head over heels for one another. but you'd moved in with leah and as much as she made sure to assure you the place was for both of you, it never quite felt that way.

so with leah extending her arsenal contract for a further three seasons and you running your own business, you'd sat down together and made the decision to buy a place that would be for both of you.

the day you finally got the keys leah carried you bridal style over the threshhold as you smacked her shoulder with a laugh, dropping you down as the two of you ran around the eerily empty house playing tag, giggling like giddy school children.

in typical fashion the very first night you moved in you'd had the absolute bare minimum, the moving truck with the majority of your belongings not due till the next day.

so you'd eaten pizza on the floor and slept in the living room on a cheap blow up mattress, spending the evening playing card games using the pizza boxes as a makeshift table while you watched a movie on leah's laptop.

not the most conventionally convenient first night and with the mattress all but deflating by the time you woke up it was far from the greatest nights sleep, and yet it was perfect.

"hello gorgeous. shall we call it a day?" leah murmured gently, hugging you from behind and softly kissing your neck as you busied yourself unpacking boxes in your bedroom, closing a drawer with a tired sigh and a nod.

"sorry for being cranky." you mumbled into her shoulder, turning around and hugging her properly. "sorry for being so stubborn." leah mumbled into your hair as she placed a kiss there tenderly making you smile.

"we've still not done any groceries!" you groaned in realization of the one errand you'd both neglected to remember today, so busy in your hurrying about from one place to another you realised neither of you had really eaten a proper meal all day.

"well we've got plates and glasses and cutlery now. so even a takeout can be eaten like a proper fancy meal!" leah joked, pecking your lips a few times before letting you go and pulling out her phone, collapsing on the bed.

you curled up into her side, head resting on her shoulder as the two of you browsed your options, leah claiming she didn't mind what you ordered but here she was shooting down almost all your suggestions.

"oh my god leah you choose then!" you laughed, sitting up with a shake of your head as the blonde grabbed the back of your jumper and pulled you back down into her hold. "i don't mind!" the girl assured yet again as you rolled your eyes.

"you say this and yet every single thing i've suggested you can come up with a reason not to order it. so what do you really want love?" your hands grabbed her face gently, thumbs stroking her sharp jawline with an amused smile.

"pizza." leah admitted with a sheepish grin and a pout. "we had pizza two days ago!" you smiled with a shake of your head. "i love pizza and pizza loves me." was all your girlfriend answered with a shrug before attacking your face with kisses, only pulling away to go and order your usual.

"-no a bit more to the left." you hummed, arms crossed as leahs shook, holding up the heavy photo frame which was filled with pictures of the two of you, the thing easily weighed half of her and it was huge.

"baby. with the most peace and love if you don't hurry up and decide where i'm mounting this i am going to shove it up your-" leah started and forced a smile, straining to hold it up as you again directed her to shuffle right then left, then up then down.

"wait stop right there! perfect." you smiled happily with a clap, ignoring her recent comment as leah sighed in relief, placing it carefully down against the wall on the floor as she moved to grab the hooks and nails.

"make sure its straight when you nail it in!" you chatsized, taking a seat on your lounge which had finally arrived, burying your head in your phone. "i'll nail you in a fucking minute." leah mumbled under her breath, you too busy browsing online for some prints for your guest room to hear her.

"baby its crooked." you moaned as leah finally finished, the defenders head slumping against the wall in defeat. "only joking." you grinned, kissing her cheek and smacking her bum as you sauntered past. "i could just...." leah made a strangling motion with her hands behind your back.

"i could hide a body, i've watched enough crime podcasts." the blonde continued under her breath as she packed up her tools. "are you plotting my murder again?" you smiled knowingly, tilting your head as you leaned in the door frame watching her.

"yes i am." leah rolled her eyes, snatching your drink from your hand and chugging it as your jaw dropped. "leah!" you smacked her chest as she sighed happily, handing you back the empty glass and sloppily kissing your cheek in thanks.

"i'd not say no to a sandwich either love." the captain grinned with a wink before disappearing into your bedroom to finish building the side tables she'd started earlier before you demanded her assistance with several other things.

"what am i now then? your little house wife?" you scoffed, following after her, the taller girl smiling cheekily as she swung a hammer around in her hand. "yeah. yeah you are!" leah nodded before squatting down to continue building.

"put a ring on it and maybe we'll talk titles then williamson." you teased, the older girls cheeks flushing red as you smiled and left the room. changing into an old pair of overalls you tied your hair up and grabbed a can of paint, moving into the spare room to continue where you'd left off yesterday.

you'd finished another entire wall by the time leah appeared, having finished the side tables and your tv stand after much swearing and yelling which you'd left her to, not wanting to push her any further despite how easy you knew it would be to wind the blonde up.

"sweets do you know where-" you didn't hear the rest of her sentence, too fixated on the tool belt strapped around her waist, her shorts rolled up and only in her sports bra as of course a heat wave had decided to roll in over the weekend.

"baby? did you hear me?" leah asked somewhat impatiently, tapping her foot and raising an eyebrow as you shook your head wordlessly, eyes roaming her body hungrily. "how do you not know-" leah started though she stopped when she realised what it was which was distracting you.

"now see i wouldn't have pegged you for a girl with a little handyman fantasy." leah smiled cockily, sauntering over as your arms hung limp by your sides. "that makes two of us. but you in a tool belt...baby it's doing things to me." you admitted with a nod of approval.

"would you like me to do things to you my girl?" leah breathed out with a grin, hands grabbing at your hips as her eyes flittered down to lock with yours. no more words needed the taller girl connected your lips.

unlike normal she didn't rush anything, the kiss was slow and sensual and she poured into it every ounce of affection and love she held for you, though as time passed and you seperated momentarily to catch your breath it grew messier.

your head span, feeling as though it was filled with cotton, in a drunken haze off the taste of leahs lips on yours and the way her tongue moved around in your mouth, teeth nipping teasingly at your bottom lip as she suddenly pushed you into the wall causing you to let out a small moan.

however it only took a millisecond before your brain switched back on and you shoved her away, leahs eyebrows creasing into a frown as you gasped, tensing as you felt something wet drip down the back of your neck.

leah opened her mouth to ask what happened but as you took a step forward the blonde swiftly covered her smile with her hand, biting down on her lip with a guilty look sent your way.

for behind you on the still dripping wet wall of paint was now a you sized smudge, the eggshell white now caked in your hair, neck and all down the back of you.

"we could tell people a bird took a shit on you? that's quite good luck!" leah joked, a pause passing between the two of you as your eyes narrowed and she took off, you hastily chasing after her.

you caught her in the kitchen, eyes locked as you circled one another around the island bench in the middle. "now baby really that was your fault." leah shook her head as you scoffed and lunged at her but she easily side stepped you, backing away out of the room as you advanced on her.

"come give me a hug then babe." you smiled, taking further steps toward her as leah looked around for an escape, darting past you and out the back door as you chased after her.

much faster than your girlfriend would ever give you credit for you tackled her onto the grass as she paused to try and evaluate her next steps, landing on top of her with a grin.

"you look a bit pale darling." you teased, grabbing your paintbrush you'd stashed from your back pocket, gently smacking her cheeks with it and painting her face as leah squealed but kept her mouth shut as to not invite any of the paint into it.

you rolled off of her and laid on your back, clutching at your stomach as your laughter echoed around the backyard. though now it was your turn to squeal as leah sat on top of you, wiping her face all over your overalls as you tried to push her off but she swiftly pinned your wrists to the grass.

"no leah its on your lips!" you laughed as the blonde dipped her head to kiss you. "i know!" she scowled playfully, gently kissing both your cheeks and your forehead leaving marks all over your own face.

"shower time?" leah grinned, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively and letting go of your hands as you hit her on the shoulder. "only if you keep the tool belt on." you smirked now making her throw her head back in laughter.

"you know baby i think that can be arranged."

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso

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springwitch26 · 8 months

Text

hots for teacher (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

part 2

summary: you've been infatuated with melissa schemmenti ever since you worked under her as a student teacher. what will happen when you meet again a few years later?

warnings: NSFW content, implied future smut (part 2 on the way??), praise kink, age gap idk

notes: hi everyone! my name is april, and this is my first ever fanfiction. i wrote this for fun and then decided to share it with the community, because i love the little gay women in my phone! i've been reading fics on tumblr for as long as i've been on the internet, so this is a strange experience for me. anyway, enjoy, and let me know what you guys think!

tonight you looked sexy, and you knew it. you wore a sinfully short black dress with colorful butterflies. it was one of your favorites; it showed just the right amount and hugged just the right places to be tantalizing. your eyes were painted with thin black wings and soft, glittery eyeshadow that made you look like a sweet dream. your lips glistened and your hair was tied up in two dutch braids. you were a vision.

all this meant that you were not the least bit surprised when a deep, sultry female voice sounded from behind where you sat at the bar.

"it should be illegal to look like that in public."

you smiled coyly and turned around to face the stranger.

"why? see something you like?" when you turned to face her, however, you were met with a familiar face. it was a face you'd seen in your dreams time after time: your former boss, melissa schemmenti.

you had been assigned to work with melissa as a student teacher while you were in school for your teaching certification. at the time, she was teaching two grades simultaneously, so she was grateful to have you there to ease the burden. it didn't hurt that you were always so eager to please. you wanted to learn and become the best teacher you could be.

of course, your motives weren't entirely pure. you were attracted to melissa from the moment you saw her. you remembered it like it was yesterday: her flaming red hair was slightly messy from trying to wrangle her double class, and her glasses sat askew on her nose. then you came along and turned everything around. she would give you to-do lists, and you would finish them before lunchtime the same day.

"great job, hon! you're so good, don't know what i'd do without you..." she'd say each time, beaming with pride at her new prodigee.

"o-of course, ms. schemmenti. what else can i do for you?" you'd respond, blushing profusely at the praise and struggling to hold her intense gaze.

within a week of having you, melissa was caught up on all her work. she couldn't help but feel like you were an angel, or some kind of gift from god. whatever you were, she cherished you. as the two of you spent more time together, she started to want you more and more. every project, every conversation, every smile you two shared only added to your chemistry.

she had fun with it--teasing you with special pet names and praise, watching you get all flustered and squirmy. she knew you liked her back. you weren't the most subtle about your desire.

melissa would never act on her feelings, though. you were a doe-eyed twenty-something with big dreams, and she was your much older boss. getting involved with you would be too messy. but she always held out hope, even after you left abbott, that one day you'd meet again.

you studied melissa's sly smirk for a moment, in disbelief at your luck. it had been two years since you left abbott. you had your own big girl job now, and you were a bit more mature. there was nothing stopping you from acting on your desires.

"oh my god, ms. schemmenti! please, have a drink with me. it's been a while." you hoped you didn't sound too desperate, although you definitely looked desperate once you got a good glance at her.

her look was striking. your breath hitched in your throat as you scanned her form, dressed in red leather pants and a button-down shirt. her arms were visibly muscled, even through the jacket. the black button-down shirt she wore was unbuttoned just enough to tease her cleavage. around her waist was a thick black belt that you wanted to pull on. her fiery hair was tied back haphazardly in a high ponytail, just messy enough to be sexy. and her hands—god, her fingers were long and ringed and—

"whatever you say, kid," she shrugged and sat down next to you, giving you a playful smile. "and you can call me melissa now."

she had a mischievous glint in her eye, probably knowing how you felt just by the wanton way you stared at her. when she sat down beside you, you felt your whole body heat up. your thighs were almost touching from the proximity, and you could smell her intoxicating perfume with each inhale. feeling her body so close to yours had you more drunk than the alcohol. it didn't help that her eyes now roamed over your body shamelessly, taking in your glistening lips and lingering on your soft cleavage. you tried your best to play it cool.

you talked for a while, catching up on everything. you told her about your new job at a suburban elementary school, your volunteer tutoring on the weekends, your summers in the mountains. she beamed with pride hearing of your accomplishments.

"that's great, y/n! sounds like you're goin' places."

"thank you! i think i owe a lot of my success to my student teaching experience—everyone at abbott was great, including you. especially you," you looked at her with an intense gaze, feeling your desire catch up with you.

"you were such a passionate mentor. you just had this way of getting me excited..." you trailed off as you fixated on the stirrings of a smirk on her face.

"...excited about learning," you finished shakily.

"mm-hmm," she chuckled.

maybe it was the alcohol, or the simple fact that she was right next to you and seemingly devouring you with her eyes, but you became bolder then. you only had one shot at this.

"i mean, you really touched me in a way that nobody else could," you leaned in, dragging out your syllables for emphasis. "i worked so hard because i just needed to be good for you."

now she was the one shuddering. you had the upper hand, if only for a moment. but she quickly got her boldness back.

"i noticed that. always so bright and attentive. i bragged to all the other teachers about what a good girl you were." to top it all off, she punctuated her sentence by placing her hand firmly on your knee.

you thought you were going to explode right then and there. your skin erupted in goosebumps at her touch, and you spread your legs ever so slightly to indicate your consent. her face split into a smug grin and she began to crawl her fingers up your thigh, agonizingly slowly.

your response came as a shaky whisper. you were sure you must have soaked through your panties just from her teasing touches.

"it's good to know that you thought so highly of me. i looked up to you a lot," you said sheepishly. "um, i'm a bit embarrassed to admit it, but i did have a bit of a crush on you..."

"oh, yeah. that doesn't surprise me. don't be embarrassed, hon. you can't help what you feel," her hand had stalled at the midpoint of your thigh, and she looked at you with sincerity.

"it doesn't surprise you?" you asked, struggling to get the words out once she resumed stroking your thigh.

"i had my suspicions," she said with a knowing smirk. "i'm sharper than i look, ya know."

her darkened eyes sent shivers down your spine. you felt your core heat up at the humiliation of knowing she knew exactly what you thought about her.

"am i that obvious?" you asked, somewhat breathily.

"oh, sweetheart," she laughed. she leaned in close and you could smell her perfume, feel the warmth of her breath on your skin. her fingers pinched the skin of your thigh as she whispered to you. "you sat five feet away from me for months, always wearin' those little black skirts. you think i didn't see you rub your thighs together every time i gave you praise?"

her hand now caressed your inner thigh softly, teasingly. you failed to respond, trying to process her words but finding yourself unable to do anything but whimper almost silently.

"so soft here. mhmm," she husked into your ear. there was a hint of giddiness in her voice, as if she was pleased with herself for taking you apart so easily. "does that feel good, princess? do you like it when i touch you?"

"yes!" you said, almost too loudly for the public setting. "yes, i like it very much."

"good," she whispered as her fingers found the edge of your panties. your thighs spread even wider, and you let out a small gasp.

"we've got lots more to catch up on, don't we?" she continued, her fingers drawing feather-light circles over your clit through the fabric. you wondered if she could feel you throbbing for her. your hips bucked up to meet her hand, and she slapped your thigh in warning. "if you wanna keep talkin', we can head back to mine..."

you turned to her with big, glazed-over eyes. still whimpering, you nodded rapidly, earning a laugh from the older woman. she grabbed your hand and guided you out of the packed bar.

"i'm gonna wreck you, hon," she mumbled without looking back at you.

#melissa schemmenti x y/n #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti/reader #melissa schemmenti x you #wlw ns/fw #kinktober #abbott elementary #fanfic

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

Text

Eddie x fem!reader. [vol I]

Summary: just a bit of Eddie’s shenanigans 😈

TW: no minors, angst, mentions of hard times.

W.C: 4.7k

A/N: hope you are all enjoy this! Thank you for all the love received on the first chapter 🥰

You spent the rest of the night questioning why you ever placed the ad in the paper to begin with. Certainly you could just go to sleep and you’d wake up to all of Eddie’s belongings gone because this was a nightmare.. right? Of course. You’d wake up any minute now and things would go back to the way they used to be.

////

Oh how you had hoped.

Eddie wearing your robe was just the tip of the iceberg of the stupid shit he would endure for the next 12 hours. After eating 7 slices of pizza, he wiped his greasy hands down the front of it. Settling for that instead of the arms of the couch after you had scolded him. He talked during the entire episode of The Nanny.

“Holy shit, she’s hot, I mean her voice is kinda nasally but woooowwweeeee.. you think she’s into metalheads? I bet she is. I bet she’d love to be wrapped all up in me, it'd be a secret though for her.” He talked with his mouth full, bits of cheese and pizza sauce flying from his lips and landing on his naked chest. His feet were propped up on the coffee table, toes wiggling like he was a child watching cartoons. “Got any chips? I’m hungry.”

He left a mess wherever he went. The chips he begged you for were still sitting open on the couch. Crumbs decorated the upholstery like confetti at a New Year’s Eve party. His pizza plate on the coffee table, holding an impressive amount of beer cans. Instead of hanging your robe back up on its proper hook in the bathroom, he left it on the floor in between the living room and the hallway. You had gone to bed after he insisted on belching “Love Bites” with three beers tucked between his legs. It was at this moment you thought of begging Steve and Robin to move in with you instead.

“For the last time, I refuse to try to out burp you, I will not be duct taping beers to my hands, and for the love of god if you get salsa on the carpet I will skin you alive.”

“It puts the lotion on its skin….”

You stomp to bed, slamming your bedroom door and throwing the covers over your head. You can hear Eddie slurring through your bedroom walls.

“C’mon Tooooty, I thought we were having a slumber party. You didn’t even paint my nails yet!” His small hiccuping giggles turn into a roar of laughter lasting entirely too long.

The next morning you wake up to your alarm, it’s peaceful, content. Today is a new day and you have a busy schedule working at the salon. Saturdays are easily the most hectic at Josie’s. It seems it’s the only day off for most people to come in and get their hair done. You dress in a simple black tank top tucked into a black mini skirt, a form fitting denim vest over top, and black chunky slide sandals. Spritzing yourself with your Exclamation perfume you just have to brush your teeth and grab a little breakfast.

Upon opening your bedroom door you are hit with a stench so ungodly, it makes the hair stand up on your arms. Did a fucking tornado crash through your home? How hard were you sleeping? You felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz only in reverse, while she was mystified by the sights around her you were full of rage, disgust, and sheer anger.

Eddie.

For fucks sake it is almost as if he needed a goddamn babysitter.

Beer cans litter the floor. A silver ball made of duct tape was sitting on the couch, the small tv was still on. All your VHS’s were scattered along the floor by the entertainment center. A plate of what looked like hardened shredded cheese was balancing on the edge of the coffee table. Rolling papers, and two joints were piled on top of it, along with various baggies of god knows what. Chips were ground into the carpet, their sharp edges making the carpet glitter with nacho cheese and tortilla shrapnel. And sitting opened and probably now dry, was the blue nail polish you had gotten with Robin. The whole place reeked of the dirty rotten scent of spilled stale beer soaking cotton fabric, the remnants of weed wafting from the furniture baking into the fibers from the sun streaming through the windows in lazy strips of golden yellow.

Homicide is probably what? 10 years? You could manage that.

You make your way into the culprits room, swearing under your breath and feeling the sweat start on the back of your neck. Pushing through the heap of clothes and worn boots, you find the prince of trash laying on his back, soft snores escaping his slack mouth. There aren’t even sheets on his mattress, just mountains of his belongings.

A beer is taped crudely to his left hand, your brand new bottle of jergens lays next to him along with a playboy— flipped open to a brunette with obvious fake tits and her lips placed into an orgasm. He apparently threw some boxers on during his midnight raccoon shenanigans.

This is comparable to bringing home a dog from the humane society, you aren’t sure how they’ll act but once you go to sleep— all hell breaks lose.

“Eddie,” you yell, loud enough that your own ears are ringing. He doesn’t move a muscle, just a loud snore erupting from him. You kick at his legs, push his body around but nothing. If it weren’t for the snoring you probably should have called a coroner.

One last slap against his bare chest and he finally groans, “gimme five more minutes baby and I promise I’ll rock your world.” Jesus Christ.

Fuck it, just go to work, you can deal with him when you get home. Breath in and out. Nope— the fuse that was lit in your brain from Eddie’s mess inches its way slowly towards the dynamite, licking up the wick. Also like a dog from the shelter, they need to be trained, told when they are doing something wrong, and immediately corrected.

Filling a cup with cold water you waltz back into his room a smile plastered to your lips.

The splash of water against Eddie’s face is music to your ears as he gasps for breath. Spluttering and sitting up, spilling the beer taped to his hand, he looks like a cat that was thrown in the tub, long curls soaking wet, his bangs parted and thrown back from the force of the water hitting him.

“Damn sweetheart, I said give me five minutes and I’d give you all ten inches of my co—” the plastic cup bounces off of Eddie’s head. “Okay, ow. Goddamn what was that for?!”

“What was that for?! Look around Eddie!” You motion around the house as he stands up holding his head and pressing the palm of his right hand into his eye, dragging it down his face to wipe the remnants of cold water away, “this place is disgusting!”

You begin to list off everything wrong, as you walk around the house, Eddie following begrudgingly behind you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. You point out the chips in the carpet, the hardened cheese plate, the vhs mess. Each and everything you show him your voice gets higher and higher and louder and louder. The rage bubbling up in your body as you huff around. A large hand and the odd sensation of a rubbery plastic mass spin you around, holding onto your shoulders.

Eddie’s face is so close to yours, you can see the sun reflecting off the usual darkened browns of his eyes, bringing a goldmine to the muddy surface.

“Tooty— it’s far too early for this shit,” he speaks slowly, the Cheshire Cat like grin on his stupid face spreads across his lips revealing his straight white teeth, “you need to relax a little bit.” He notices the weight of the beer can and tips it back into his mouth, chugging the rest of it and smacking his lips when he’s done. Adding a deafening belch upwards to the ceiling.

You curl your lip in disgust and shove his arm off of you. “What? Hair of the dog baby, gotta keep drinking to avoid a hangover.”

Crossing your arms and taking a step back from him, you take a deep breath, “I don’t know how you lived in the trailer park, and frankly— I don’t give a fuck—but, you will not, make a mess of my house. Either, clean this shit up before I get home from work, or I’ll personally move your crap out to the lawn. Got it?”

His smile fades, and his eyebrows pull together, eyes squinted. The hum of the ceiling fan is the only noise in the house. “Are you threatening me at 7:30 in the morning?” he asks, checking his watch, towering over you. No doubt he is trying to freak you out.

It takes everything in you to not slap him upside the head.

You stand your ground, not letting his carved jaw and mean eyed demeanor get the best of you.

“Damn right I am. I’ll have your shit lying on the lawn like a horrendous Halloween yard sale. Just because the whole town thinks you're some psycho, bastard doesn’t mean I do— you don’t scare me, Munson,” his surname falling from your lips like agent orange, thick and heavy painting the air around you both. Your head held high, eyes glaring back into his. His bravado falters and he also crosses his arms, matching your energy.

“Maybe you should pull the stick out of your ass before it splinters, babe.” Eddie chides back, lips spreading manically across his face.

Neither of you will let the other win, and if you didn’t have to go to work, you would stand here all day arguing with him. You poke a manicured nail into his chest. “You owe me a new bottle of lotion.” With that you push past him and make your way into the bathroom to finish getting ready.

“It was either that or the mayonnaise, sweetheart!”

You had always found comfort working at Josie’s. She had taken you on immediately after finishing Cosmetology school at Empire Beauty School in Indianapolis, giving you full time hours and helping you buy your supplies. Nancy had dropped down to part time, working for both the Hawkins Post and cutting hair on the side. Josie was like an older sister to you, and you loved her dearly.

After doing matching perm sets on a mother and daughter, a trim on your regular client, Audrey, and catching up with the latest gossip from Molly about her date that ended with them making out in his car—it was time for your lunch break.

The leftover half of a tuna salad sandwich stared you down from its cellophane wrapper, begging you to ingest the soggy yet stale bread. A stomach ache waiting to happen. Tossing it into the trash, you settle for Marlboro menthols and a Diet Coke. The sun is high in the sky, begging you to enjoy it.

You shed your vest as you sit on the back patio, leaning your head against the neon pink and white striped plastic pool chair lounger, stretching your legs out and kicking off your sandals. You accept the sun’s rays into your skin. Sunglasses poised on your face and a cigarette tucked between your mauve painted lips, you pretend you’re in a movie.

But you’re not— you’re in the middle of Butthole, Indiana. The only exciting thing that happened here was the possibility of hearing the latest town gossip about someone’s cousin, friend, or ex getting knocked up by the high school football star.

You longed for a day off where you and Robin could enjoy the once luxurious but not desolate woods of Lover’s Lake. Nothing but the peaceful breeze to fill your mind and the light rustle of the leaves.

Nancy pulled the blue matching chair up next to you, curling her legs beneath her as you silently pull your lighter from your pocket and hand it to her. A small cloud of smoke dances around your face as she lights her cigarette inhaling deeply.

“Ready for the honeymoon?” You ask her as she inches her way down the seat, a slight squeak to the rubbery plastic as she settles her body in.

Nancy and Jonathan had gotten married two months ago. The wedding was pristine and beautiful in typical Nancy fashion. Her glorious curls in a French twist, soft tendrils framing her youthful face. A pearl colored lace gown billowing behind her and sleeves puffed around her shoulders with dainty lace decorating down her delicate wrists. She looked incredible.

You cried standing beside Holly and El in your peach colored satin gowns, wiping your eyes when they read their nuptials, vowing to be together during sickness and in health. Will, Argyle, and Mike stood beside Jonathan trying like hell to stand upright as the bachelor party spilled into the midnight hours, Mike, paler than usual and Will, drenched with sweat under the beaming lights of the church. Argyle was the only one smiling through the entire ceremony, moving his head to the rhythm of the organ.

Karen had wept and gathered you into a tight hug for helping style the bridal party’s hair that morning, and for being such a wonderful roommate to Nancy. Ted checked his watch every half hour, and kept an eye on the punch which seemingly looked to get darker and darker throughout the night.

Joyce and Hopper held each other close and danced slow to every song played. Their undying love for one another evident on their faces.

A very drunk Murray Bauman hollered obscenities behind the bar, obviously taking advantage of the open bar night as he mixed drinks for the Wheeler and Byer wedding guests, heavy on the liquor. It wasn’t until grandma Wheeler grabbed the mic and started singing Frank Sinatra that someone caught on to Murray’s antics.

You had danced and laughed along with your high school classmates all night, spilling champagne and beer onto the community center floor, the bottom of

Nancy’s dress turned an ugly smoke gray. It was a perfect summer wedding, one that all of Hawkins would be talking about for years to come.

Nancy stretched her back and twisted her neck to look at you, blue eyes peering over round colored lenses, “Yes, I can’t wait to dip my toes in the ocean,” she says beaming, “we’ve been going to the pool pretty often these last few weeks trying to tan Jonathan a little bit so he doesn’t burn like a piece of bread in Cancun.”

A giggle bubbles on her lips as you laugh along with her. “Any luck on finding a roommate?”

You had been dreading this conversation. Originally you had hoped that Erica Sinclair or even Max would maybe want to be your roommate. Sadly they were both either starting college or finishing up their degree this year—Lucas turned down a full ride basketball scholarship to be with Max. Even the boys had places to go. Dustin and Suzy were finishing their summer internships and moving in together—he had plans on proposing after summer’s end. Will lived in Indianapolis, he became a teacher’s aid after finishing his Bachelor’s in Fine Arts, hoping to one day become a professor. Mike and El lived in Hopper’s cabin, tucked deep in the woods. Celebrating being together for almost 10 years. It was quite literally just you— single, and desperate for a roommate.

“Yeah— I uhh— they moved in last night actually,” you said through a wall of smoke nonchalantly. Lighting another cigarette to power through this conversation.

Nancy is picking at her cuticles and flipping through Cosmo as she asks who answered the ad.

A nervous laugh surpasses your lips, “Eddie,” you say in almost a question.

Nancy stops moving entirely. The ash from her cigarette threatening it’s length. She shakes her head and corrects herself, “Sorry, I think I had a stroke… did you say Eddie? As in Eddie Munson?”

You throw your arm over your eyes and slip further into the chair, hoping it would swallow you whole. A groan escapes your lips followed by your confirmation.

“There was no one else! Everyone is off at school, or getting engaged— he was the only one to show up and look at the house! Plus he forked out more cash than I had originally been asking for so obviously he can afford the rent.”

“Probably drug money,” Nancy coughed.

“Honestly I don’t care if he robbed a bank, the money is there and right now—” the threat of what your life could become stings like a wasp in your brain, red ink showing final notice, light switches not working due to the electricity being shut off, before Eddie moved in— you were well on your way to that lifestyle. “that is what matters.”

Nancy huffs in disagreement, taking a breath to settle her nerves. “I don’t know him personally— but just be careful. Wait, wasn’t he friends with—”

“Yup.” You quip, tight lipped and short, “Robin and Steve know him too.”

“That's what I had thought, well at least he’s not like, a total stranger then.”

Nancy listens intently to the horrors of the past 24 hours at the house she once lived in. Twisting her wedding ring around her small fingers, she had never been more thankful to be married.

The work day ended later than you had hoped, a last minute client showed up begging for a “quick perm” — as if there were such a thing. You waved goodbye as you reminded her of the strict no washing policy when it came to maintaining her curls in place. You sweep the floor in a rush and place your combs and scissors in the blue barbicide. Putting away the perm rods and wiping down the surfaces. Switching over the laundry so at least the towels would be dry by the time you opened on Monday morning.

You were tired and your back felt a little stiff. You shut off the radio, still humming Material Girl, to yourself as you turned off the lights and locked the door.

The drive home was short, your small Ford escort a blur through the streets of Hawkins. You could hear your bed calling you, maybe you’d make yourself a grilled cheese and do some laundry so you wouldn’t have to do it tomorrow. But when you pulled into your driveway you realized you wouldn’t be relaxing at all tonight.

The garage door was pulled open, a makeshift banner with red and black spray painted letters on it spelled out “Corroded Coffin”, a better glance at it and you could see it was the same pattern as your spare bed sheets that you kept in the linen closet. The garbage cans were moved out of the way and tossed into the front yard. Cords from amps and a microphone were plugged into every outlet your small garage could offer. A drum set was in the back beside the shelf that held old paint cans full of lead. The floppy blond haired idiot slammed a Busch Light as he twirled a drumstick in his hand. Two members of the band were head banging along to the guitar solo that Eddie was plucking away at. His fingers moved fluidly over the fretboard. Years of practice evident in the dexterity of his hands. The muscles in his arms tight and flexed, veins protruding around them. There were beer cans scattered all around them. Another dirty thirty, no doubt. Fries were spilling out of empty fast food bags and greasy burger wrappers were littering the ground. The push mower was laying on its side, in the middle of the driveway. The rake snapped in half.

The slam of your car door goes unheard.

The unhinged quirk of your jaw starts to ache as you clench your teeth, stomping towards the garage band. The guitar solo ends just as you get to the garage. They’re all hollering and cheering as Eddie whips his head back, long sweaty strands of his curls whipping around as he tries to catch his breath. Holding the beer at arms length, he pours it into his mouth, light amber colored lager flowing down his chin and the expanse of his neck.

“Fuckin’ told you Jeff,” Eddie says, throwing the beer to the ground at the other guitarists feet, “don’t matter if its been five or fifteen years— I can still play that Master of Puppets solo.” A smug smile spreads across his mouth as he pulls a joint from his back pocket, and lights it between lips.

Jeff swings his guitar off his neck and places it on one of the amps, “yeah, yeah whatever man— you gonna share that or just keep gloating?”

You are standing on the driveway, hands on your hips, weight balancing on one leg, the other straight out, foot tapping in annoyance, waiting for the band of rejects to notice your throat clearing.

“Tooty!” They all yell in unison.

Your expression doesn’t fade. Jaw unhinged, lips pressed together tightly. The icy cold of your stare burrowing into Eddie’s beer and sweat soaked skin, a hazy film around him as he exhales the joint.

“Aww, sweetheart, what’s the matter?” He says with fake concern, a smirk curled on his lips, “you mad you missed the jam sesh?” Eddie croons, the tip of the joint goes red as he inhales again and passes it to Jeff, “don’t worry we do this every other night I’m sure you’ll catch the next one.”

The garage fills with echoing drunk laughs and the asshole on the drums hits a ba dum tss. Causing Eddie to choke on his exhale and start a coughing fit. He’s doubled over laughing as he forces the smoke from his lungs.

“Not here you’re not.”

He looks from you to the guys, all four dumbstruck by your words.

“Please tell me, Tooty, why I, a paying resident of this house,” he says, gesturing wildly around him, taking long legged steps towards you, head dipping and turning to catch your gaze, “am not ‘allowed’ to practice with my band, in a garage that we share?”

He’s lowering his head down to you, the ends of his sweaty curls licking your cheeks as he closes the gap between you, rubbing a hand across his chin, that same smirk on his face as always.

“Hmm?”

You let out an exhausted sigh. After a long day at work the only thing you had wanted to do was relax— not deal with Eddie’s antics.

“I’m not going to entertain your little half-witted dreams from middle school on being the next Kirk Hammett— find somewhere else to play rockstar, and get this shit out of here.”

You shove past him and the band as you stomp through the door leading into the kitchen, hanging up your keys. A quick look around made your head spin.

The house looked worse now than it did when you left for work. Dishes piled along each surface on the counters and into the sink, the microwave was open with what looked like the remnants of a spaghetti-o explosion, a beer can pyramid was starting in the living room. A burnt aluminum pan of jiffy pop sat on the stove, charred on the bottom. The trash bag suitcases Eddie had packed his belongings with, were now thrown in between his room and the hallway.

You were fed up with this bullshit, it had been 24 hours and he was already on your last nerve. Dragging both hands down your face in sheer fatigue, you grab a roll of trash bags from under the sink. Walking heavy footed back to the door, making as much noise as possible, you fling open the door, four pairs of wide eyes stare you down as you shake open the garbage bag.

“Here, let me help you because apparently you don’t have any common fucking sense.” You stomp over to Eddie and rip another bag free from the roll and toss it to him.

In the best condescending tone you can muster you explain, “This, is a garbage bag. Oooh, ahhh. Cool right? See? When you are done with something and it’s empty,” you educate the gaggle of degenerates, “you pick it up, and throw it away! Wow.” You demonstrate for them, picking up an empty can of beer and placing it in the bag.

“See how easy that is? Now,” you say turning towards Eddie your eyes lost of any endearment, “Do you think you big boys could handle that? Or do you need written instructions?”

A scoff is heard from behind you, as it’s now your turn to smirk, stomping back up the steps and into the kitchen, slamming the door hard behind you.

Huffing and puffing, you know that the house will never get clean if you don’t do it yourself. You change into a faded Hawkins High shirt and a pair of old worn cotton shorts with paint smears on the hips from when you and Nancy tackled painting the living room last summer, as you set to work on the kitchen. Pulling on a pair of rubber yellow gloves, you make work on cleaning the mess Eddie had made. The soft hum of your kitchen radio plays as Pearl Jam invades the background. You first fill the sink with the hottest water the faucet allowed, dousing the dishes with dish soap. You’re carrying around the garbage can, picking up empty beer cans, cigarette butts, and the charcoal mess of black popcorn on the the stove.

You don’t hear him enter the kitchen, your mind far away to another time, when Nancy lived with you and the only problem she caused was paying rent a week early. He advances towards you and stops in front of you, nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath.

“What’s your fuckin’ problem? You can be a bitch to me all you want, but the guys don’t deserve that.”

You set the garbage can down by your feet, a rubber glove shoved into his chest, “If you think I give a fuck about what they deserve, you are sadly mistaken! I deserve to not have my house completely trashed every time I turn my back!”

“I didn’t know I was living in a fucking convent, Sister Tooty.” Eddie argues, proud of his comeback he leans against the counter, arms folded across his chest, “that why you never get laid?”

You roll your eyes, “fucking yourself with a beer can taped to your hand isn’t exactly getting laid, Munson. But keep it up, you won’t be living here for long if you keep acting like a fucking pig!”

“Again, with your empty threats, sweetheart. Isn’t it tiring being so mad all the time— careful, looks Iike you’re already getting wrinkles.” A throaty laugh escapes his mouth and he sweeps his thumb between your eyebrows, trying to joke around and diffuse the tension growing between you both.

You swat your hands at him and pull away, a look of disgust and frustration planted on your face.

“Jesus,” he says irritated, “Harrington told me that your family moved away— didn’t know it was because you’re such a stone-cold bitch.”

Without even thinking, you shove him hard in the chest. He goes crashing backwards, the rest of the cluttered items on the counter cascade to the floor with loud thuds. Your cheeks are heated, and your eyes glisten with tears, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing them fall. You look at your socked feet and back up to him. Your lip quivering, head held high.

His expression is stunned, not angry like you thought he would be. A look of worry washes over his face as he realizes he crossed the line. Anger ran its course as he recognizes that he hurt you.

“Ah fuck,” he breathes, putting his head down and shaking his long mane. He looks back up to your face, still steady, not daring to let those traitorous tears fall.

“Tooty, I’m— I’m sorry.”

You pluck off your rubber gloves and toss them to the counter, making a dash to the bathroom and locking the door. Eddie doesn’t hear your crying, drowned out from the shower head as he starts to clean up his mess.

vol iii

—

A/N: thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed! If your name is crossed out on the Taglist it means your settings are more than likely set to private and you’re not allowed to be tagged!

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#eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #Eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x f!reader #roommate!eddie #roommate!eddie munson

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bones4thecats · 2 months

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Hello 👋🏻

Could I request Heracles, Buddha and Hades finding out their s/o is cursed with immortality because she managed to kill several gods as a mortal? In her defense, she was being hunted down by the gods.

What If Their Immortal! S/O Was Cursed?

Type of Writing: Request Name: What If Their Immortal! S/O Was Cursed? Characters: Heracles, Buddha, and Hades Requester: Anonymous

A/N: The God that I used for the story to fit together for my writing is completely fake. He does not exist (that I am aware of) in any kind of mythology or religion.

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

💪 Heracles has heard many stories from his fellow Gods about a 'God-Killing Human' and how dangerous they were that even they had taken down a former high-ranking God by the name of Merikh, who was the God of Death

💪 When you had killed said God, you were brought to the peak of a nearby mountain and offered by the humans as a sacrifice for your crimes against the Gods

💪 Zeus and a few others saw potential in you, so, instead of torturing you in many ways, like how they did Tantalus for trying to feed his son to them, they had gifted you with immortality, though you were not considered a God in their books

💪 You had been alive for a few centuries when Heracles became a God, but when you had first met him, you didn't confirm that you were the Immortal Killer of Gods, instead you said you were an average human with no value to him

💪 Heracles had bonded with you through many years, and the only reason he discovered you were immortal was when Ares had come with him and he had come across you after their training

" Oh! Ares, this is my- " " You know the Immortal Killer of Gods?! Heracles, you know what Dad'll say! " " Wait... you're the- WHAT?! "

💪 Despite trusting many despite their flaws, Heracles was very scared that you had lied to him about loving him and everything else. But, when he had spoken to his uncle Hades about it, he gained the knowledge that instead of immortality being a gift to you, it was more like curse for thinning their divine-numbers

💪 All of his concern about if you were lying had faded away, well, more like moved to the category of are you okay and what could you possibly be going through whenever coming across a divine being such as Heracles?

💪 But his biggest question was; why didn't you hate him?

💪 When you replied with how he had nothing to do with your sentencing and how it was your actions that led you to this, not his and how he didn't need to blame himself, he felt his heart melt and tears pocket in his eyes

💪 Despite living with such an everlasting and probably torturous life, you still do not hate those who punished you, you knew from the centuries you spent alone that this was what you should have expected. Though, Heracles still scolds you if you go into a depressive state of blaming yourself

" Dear, don't blame yourself. All humans makes mistakes! Myself included! Oh no, please don't cry anymore! Wait, no- "

🍭 As a human-turned-God, Buddha did not really see any issue with being this. In fact, he found it nice to round about and spend the rest of his 'afterlife' relaxing and keeping up with his path of enlightenment, and he loved to help others get on that path as well

🍭 While he was alive, he had heard stories of a human that killed many Gods, including one by the name of Merikh, a Death God who had tried killing many children just because he could

🍭 Buddha could sense something was wrong with you when he first met you on his path to enlightenment, you were just sitting beside a random river while your long white and gold robes flowed in the air, while a thick line of face-paint laid on your eyes from one side to the other

🍭 He just felt that you were far to quiet for your own good. But, since you didn't get up and join his group, Buddha just smiled, waved, and went on his merry way, not expecting to see you ever again

🍭 But, when he had awoke as a God and took a small walk a few hundred years after, he had noticed a familiar form at the edge of the river; you.

🍭 Before your relationship even began, he knew you were a form of divine being. But, he had no idea how you had gained the power of immortality, but as far as he guess, you could have been born with it

🍭 So, when Brunhilde had come to him to ask if she could have you fight in the next round of Ragnarok against a new and dangerous God, he declined, saying he didn't want his delicate immortal S/O to die

🍭 Brunhilde had spilled the beans. Telling your story of killing God after God until you made it to Merikh centuries before Buddha's birth. But, unlike Heracles, Buddha doesn't view you differently, you were his S/O. Plain and simple.

" Brunhilde, I understand why you would want 'em to fight. They're strong, and that's plain to see when they glare at anyone. But, I am not letting them risk their life against some new douche from the Norse Pantheon. They're my S/O to protect and cherish, and I plan on doin' that for a long time, longer than these last few centuries. Do they're not doing it, got it? "

🍭 He also loves to just stand there and flip of Zeus with you, since he had cursed you in the first place and Buddha just didn't like the old geezer

💀 Hades had known about you for centuries, as he was one of the Gods who was against torturing you, and instead just giving you a sentence of immortality to satisfy the lives lost of their allies

💀 This guy is very distant, even to most of his own Pantheon, so he always has had rumors floating around that he may be doing something behind everyone's back. Well, technically he was, but still- you get the point!

💀 Whenever Hades would go up to the surface and relax in the rare sunlight he ever gets, he would always try visiting you in your small home located deep within the forest

💀 He had noticed you had gotten used to being an immortal quite quick, and that shocked him. It had taken Heracles a little while to accept the fact that he was immortal himself, but you accepted it within a couple years while his was nearly double your time!

💀 Hades had asked you to be his one and only a few hundred years of knowing one another, and when you said yes, he just smiled and spun you around, thanking his fellow Gods for you being immortal like him

💀 But, Hades didn't understand how this had been affecting you internally...

💀 While you seemed to accept outliving everyone you cared about, on the inside, you were the complete opposite. You had had many panic attacks and nightmares of the Gods you had killed, especially the Death God, Merikh, in which you would wake up in a cold sweat

💀 The only reason that he found out was because of your small friendship with Hermes, who was a well-known gossiper. He had found out about your nightmares getting worse and had confronted his uncle about it, not sparing a detail, much to your annoyance

💀 Hades had come to you directly and, while you were away, had his servants move your things from your home to his. He didn't do this to observe you more- well, he kinda did, I guess- BUT. He mainly did it because you were married and married couples live together!

💀 Yeah right

💀 It only took a couple nights together for your nightmares to calm down, as feeling the lovingly-tight grip your husband had on your midsection made you feel protected and adored instead of hunted and hated for your actions of the past

" Sweet-Skull, you have no need to cry over such an event happening to you. As long as I am here, nobody, and I mean nobody, will ever come close to harming you again. "

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catsgut · 8 months

Text

EVEN IN DEATH - CHOSO

hehe my first kinktober fic!! it’s short but i really loved this idea of big brother choso:3 hope you enjoy!

warnings: incest, choking, death, necrophilia

choso’s love for you is a masterpiece, a symphony of emotions painted upon the cavas of his heart. your smile has the power to quench the thirst of his soul. there is nothing more intense than his sweet, dear little sister. he doesn’t know a better feeling than the one he gets when he looks at you. from the moment you came into his life, he was devoted with his very being. swore to keep you safe from harms way.

you knew how much your brother cared about you. you saw the hunger in his eyes when he unblinkingly stared through yours. he knew you better than anyone, and you preferred it that way. no one else make your tummy do flips and skin heat up the way he did. it was always him.

your whole life was spent lonely. you were an outcast, a loser. no one cares whether you lived or died, but choso didn’t see you that way. when you were introduced to geto, your first reaction was to hide behind the man you knew would protect you, but instead of mockery, geto extended a gentle hand. he understood what it was like to hate humans the way they seemed to hate you for existing. you met other ‘friends’ like mahito, who you got a long with quite well. it helped take the edge off of everyday life, giving you something warm to come to at the end.

but nothing made you feel more wonderful than running into your big brothers arms, feeling his big, calloused hands hold the small of your back. nothing made you feel as good as you did when you were under him, naked chest pressed against his own.

“chosh-shoo!” you moaned into his mouth, his tongue swirling around yours as spit covered your chin and neck. he wouldn’t ever say it out loud, but he loved when you got sloppy with him. his dick twitched seeing the snot and drool dripping down the sides of your face.

“your big brother loves you, baby,” he mumbled into your mouth. he really did love you. you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling his thick cock slip in and out of your cunt, your thighs wet and sticky. “makin me feel s’good, god i love you,” his groans were soft and quiet. you wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, tugging at his hair. he let out a whine at the feeling of you pulling him closer. he loved his needy little sister so much.

“fuck, sissy… i’m gonna cum soon,” choso groaned loudly in your ear before sitting up to get a good look at you. his abs flexed and his breathing heavy as he plowed into you like an animal. slowly, he reached his hand up to your throat, something he’s never done before. you didn’t think much of it though, back arching as he squeezed, but little did you know, choso felt something strange. it felt oddly good to choke you, feeling your soft throat mold at his finger tips. it made him feel powerful that you were at his mercy so easily. his baby sister… so helpless in his arms.

he squeezed harder and then harder until your eyes flew open, and something sparked within him that he didn’t know existed. that scared look in your eyes. he really was your whole world and he didn’t want anything to change that… but him. it would be the ultimate ‘i love you to death’.

with another harsh squeeze your hands flew up to grab at his wrist. you knew choso could have small outbursts, usually when mahito groped you, but you never expected him to have one during sex. usually he was so intimate and loving, but this felt more than just possession. it felt like anger. and angry he was. he was angry at the thought of someone else making you feel so good. at the thought of you giving up on him. but he was also oh so happy at the fact that he was about to change everything. god, he wanted this moment to last forever, and in a way it was your forever.

he really didn’t mean to choke you that hard. didn’t even notice your face turning blue till your hands went limp at your sides, tits still bouncing from the force he was fucking you with. he’s seen you pass out before, but never like this. just…. it wasn’t enough. it felt so good knowing your last moments would be with him. your last breath would be your chokes and mumbles of his name telling him to ‘shtop… pleash!’ that alone was enough for him to keep fucking your pussy, feeling your walls squeezing him tighter than ever.

eventually he feels a crack and looks down at your limp head dangling off to the side. you were still so pretty even in death, he thought as he pounded away. he was so, so close. much closer than before. he let go of your neck to grab both hips as he slammed his cock into you one last time before cumming. he had never came harder in his life than in that moment. choso swears his heart nearly lept out of his chest at the mere sight of your lifeless body being pumped full of his seed. you were truley the best thing that had ever happened to him.

choso looks up at the ceiling, sweat gliding down his pale skin. he could still feel your warmth around his cock as he slowly pulled it out. he knew he’s never get to be with you again, never get to se your pretty smile. there was no one else like you. moments before you were moaning on his cock and the next you were permanently unmoving.

it made his heart ache knowing you were stripped from life all from him getting caught up in the moment, but he also knew that you died at his hands, and in a twisted way that made him happier knowing that you were still his even in death.

#choso smut #choso x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #tw.dark content #tw.incest

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