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#80% of the fic is banter
password-door-lock · 8 months
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Gummy Worms
Idol Unknown X reader; 28,286 words; fluff, light angst, and some suggestive banter Rating: Mature Content warnings: Suggestive dialogue and biting
You tap your foot nervously to the beat of the three overplayed hits that Unknown leads with back-to-back, as if you haven’t heard enough of them already. By the time he approaches the microphone to address his audience, he’s soaked in sweat, bangs plastered to his face and makeup visibly smudged, even from your vantage point several meters away. He makes a noise halfway between a sigh and a laugh, then rolls his eyes at the resulting uproar, waiting for the cheering and hollering to die down before speaking into the mic. “You people paid a lot to come see me, huh?”  The crowd offers a resounding assent. Good. At least they have some sense. “Wow, poor you,” Unknown smirks. “I think you’re getting scammed, shelling out like that for an overpriced pop concert.” There is a palpable edge to his words, which, you realize, were borrowed from you. 
Or:
Unknown thinks you must be a big fan. You think he's a little bit full of himself.
Read it on Ao3!
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altered60 · 9 months
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Prompt: photograph from @roosmavprompts
Title: a photo is worth a thousand words
Author: altered60
Rating: E
Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Humour, Banter, Getting Together, First Time, Pining, Idiots in Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Explicit Sexual Content, Mention of past Maverick/Ice
Word Count: 5,140
Summary: When Bradley buys a new book for his collection on gay history in California in the 1980s, he expects to see familiar locations, read stories about people who grew up in the era and what they experienced. What he didn’t expect was to see a familiar face in one of the photos.
A face that looked a hell of a lot like Maverick.
But Maverick was straight? Right?
Or the fic where Bradley needs to find out if Maverick was a gay icon of the 1980s and if so, can he be a gay icon for Bradley instead.
~*~*~*~*~
Click here to read!
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When the Levee Breaks
pairing: Remus Lupin x reader
tags / warnings: friends to lovers fluff then smut, mutual pining, smoking weed (be responsible irl), high sex, explicit descriptions of oral (f receiving), fem!reader
NSFW notes: A LARGE PORTION OF THIS FIC IS NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS; DO NOT READ IT IF IT ISN'T APPROPRIATE FOR YOU! HOWEVER, because such a long portion (like 2/3) has no sexual material (except for the implication at the very beginning), i have clearly marked where it becomes NSFW in case any age-appropriate readers want to read only up to that point (i know some people just want fluff not smut even if they're of age, and that's so chill); i will say there is drug use before then, so still adult material, but fluffy around that; please please be responsible for your content consumption
random notes: set in the late 70's / early 80's, following canon of when the marauders would've met but the rest of the world building (e.g. au) left ambiguous title inspired by a song on one of the albums mentioned idk why this turned out similar to The Prettiest Star with Sirius Black, but i guess my fantasy is just to listen to music intensely with someone then fuck lovingly lol
word count: 6.4k
hope you enjoy! thank you if you read it! 🫶
You watch as his long fingers, practiced and adept, roll the spliff. You liked this part. You could stare at his hands under the guise of watching the rolling. Remus didn’t have to know how far from pot your mind wandered when you did. He didn’t have to know it made you wonder every time what else he could do with this fingers. Imagine how they would feel on you. In you. 
At the thought, you squirm where you’re seated on his settee next to him. He chuckles in a low tone. 
“Antsy?” 
“No.” 
He can tell you’re lying. You can tell he can tell. But you don’t care. As long as he can’t tell why you’re lying, it doesn’t matter, and you can keep wriggling.
“Whatever you say, jitterbug.” 
Your wringing hands catch his attention, and his eyes fix on them even as his hands continue their work. 
“Next time, you’re rolling it,” he says through a smile. “There’d be nothing left to smoke by the time you finished shaking it everywhere,” he laughs, too amused with himself, giggling as if he were already high. 
“Remus?” you start, and he shakes his head and chuckles, loving how you get when he teases you. 
“What?” he smiles, eyebrows shooting up at you, both a welcome and a challenge for you to say whatever you’re about to. 
“Can you remind me who provided this wonderful gift on this wonderful afternoon?” You shake the baggy you brought to his flat not 15 minutes ago. 
He laughs, now nodding, and concedes, “You’re right, sunshine. I should be so grateful.”
Remus brings the spliff to his mouth to lick the edge of the paper, and your retort gets caught in your throat as you fixate on his tongue. 
A bit too late, a bit too quiet for your usual banter, you say, “You should be, Moons. I can still take it home and smoke by myself.”
“Oh now I’ve rolled it for you, yeah? Didn’t realize you were just here for my services. Should’ve known you were just pretending to love me till you got what you wanted.” He holds up his finished work — a beauty really — in front of you as he finishes his joke. You hum affirmatively, taking it from him and looking it over. 
You inspect it exaggeratedly and with a theatrical sense of casual satisfaction tell him, “Hm, not bad. I was starting to regret the long con, but I think this was worth it.” 
He’s giggling as he gets up, bumping his body against yours before he does, going toward his record collection. He walks over lazily, unhurriedly, his bare feet quiet on the floor, his hand coming up to mess with his hair. His loose, comfy clothes do a lot to hide the muscles you know are lean but strong underneath.
“Come help me choose,” he says over his shoulder as he falls to one knee to scan a lower shelf. Almost a whole wall of his small apartment is covered in shelves, boxes, stacks of records. It looks a mess, but it’s actually meticulously organized by release date.
You follow him, come up just behind him. You crouch, too, not all the way down like him. You lean on him, resting your head atop his, bringing your arms around his shoulders and neck. 
He moans casually, seeming happy, and grabs your arms where they fall across his chest. 
“Oh, Rem. You should know…”
“Hm?” he asks, looking up at you. You look down at him, seeing his warm smile upside down. 
“This is the real reason I’ve pretended to be your friend all these years,” you fake seriousness as you nod toward the records. Remus rolls his eyes, but his smile stretches further across his lovely face. It pulls on a long scar that runs down his cheek. 
“And may I ask how you knew when we were eleven that one day I would own such an epic collection?” 
“Easy. You wore a Led Zeppelin t-shirt one of the first days we knew each other.”
He’s taken aback by your giving an actual answer. 
“Did I really?”
“Yeah,” you shrug, smiling down at him. The warmth of reminiscing about those childhood years softening you. 
“I think I remember that shirt,” he smiles nostalgically. “How do you remember that?” He twists in your embrace, coming to sit on the floor and pulling you with him. You’re sitting close to each other, and he’s watching you, rapt. 
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I remember being so nervous and lonely at the beginning. Wanting to make friends. And you seemed nice, so I noticed you.” You shrug again, look down for a moment, not wanting to express embarrassment at a more honest recollection: you had a crush on him immediately, even back then, even before you were really sure what it was you were feeling — that came with the years that followed. “The day you wore that shirt, it was like something familiar I could latch onto. Someone who liked something I liked.” Remus is smiling adoringly at you. Listening as intently as he is, looking as giddy, he looks like a child at the greatest story time ever from his seat on the floor. 
“I even tried to talk to you about it,” you confess, cringing teasingly at yourself.
“Yeah?” He sits up straighter like a puppy hearing someone at the door. 
“Yeah,” you exhale. 
“I don’t remember that happening.”
“That’s because it didn’t,” you laugh. “I said tried to talk to you. I got too nervous and ran to hide before I could get the words out.” 
He’s shaking his head in disbelief, his smile still plastered on his face.
“I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed you yet.” Remus looks especially contemplative for a moment then hums, biting his lower lip. “It’s crazy. Trying to think of my life before you is like remembering a blank canvas.” 
Your cheeks warm and so does your heart. 
You’re smiling a beaming smile at him but say, “There wasn’t much to notice. I was pretty quiet. And besides, your attention probably couldn’t handle a single thing more given you were getting to know Sirius and James.” He laughs lightly at the good memories but shakes his head at you a little more pronouncedly. 
“I’m sure there was a lot to notice. I was just an idiot. And quiet, too. By comparison to that lot anyway. They spoke enough for the three of us. I probably would’ve wimped out if I’d tried to talk to a pretty girl like you back then.” The edges of his entrancing brown eyes crinkled from his smile. “I mean… to be honest… I’d get nervous for a while, talking to you at first.”
“You didn’t,” you tease but secretly really want to hear more.  
“I did, yeah. Of course I did,” he laughs at himself. “I had a big crush on you. James and Sirius wouldn’t let me live it down for ages.” 
You’re shocked at this news. And maybe your face shows it. What it doesn’t show is how desperately your mind is racing, questioning: “Wait, could things have been otherwise? Did he actually like me as more than a friend at some point? Did I ruin it somehow?”
Remus tenses slightly, his smile no longer reaching his eyes, which are attentive at your reaction. 
“That was a long time ago,” he jokes to fill the silence that is beginning to stretch too long, his tone awkward.
“What happened?” you whisper, unable to help it. 
He takes a second to answer, like he doesn’t know what to say. He’s searching your face, and you’re not sure how much he can read there. 
He shrugs. His face gives an “I don’t know” scowl. He’s trying to escape answering, but you don’t let him.
“Remus,” you laugh and shove him playfully. 
“I don’t know,” he giggles. “I don’t know. Then I got to know you I guess. And we became friends.” 
You give a scoffy laugh. You know he probably didn’t mean it that way, but your stomach sinks at the idea that getting to know you would remedy him of his crush. You’re staring at the floor when his voice breaks you out of your thoughts. 
“Hey, you okay?” He’s trying to keep the playful atmosphere, but you hear true concern in his tone. “Did I say something I shouldn’t’ve?”
You want to say “yes,” but you wouldn’t be able to tell him which part. So, you don’t say anything.
“I didn’t think you’d mind, after all these years,” he says more softly.
“No, Rem. Of course I don’t mind.” You shake your head as if dismissing the idea, attempting a laugh that still comes out strained. “I was just surprised is all.” 
He’s watching you, nodding subtlety, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. 
“Let’s choose something, yeah?” you nod next to you toward the wall, desperate to redirect attention.
“Yeah, yeah, ‘course.” Remus turns toward the records, skimming across his stacks. A thought catches him, and he moves purposefully toward a different shelf.
“What are you thinking?” you notice, your interest piqued. 
“1971,” he says as if it’s an answer. It is to you. 
1971: the year you met. 
He pulls out a well-worn record, and the strain on your smile finally dissipates to easy delight. You come stand next to him, and he hands it to you. 
“Do you remember how much we listened to that then?” he asks. 
“How could I forget,” you smile, your fingers tracing the cover of Led Zeppelin IV. 
It came out November 1971, but neither of you could get it till at least a month later, during Christmas break from school. When you finally did, the two of you listened to it nonstop. You absolutely loved the album, but you knew you listened to it that much because it was an easy excuse to hang out with Remus. You’d been listening to music together, often just the two of you, ever since.
“Fuck, I remember we’d listen to it in my room,” Remus reminisces. “And even Sirius, the biggest Zeppelin fan of us all, couldn’t take it anymore,” he laughs. “He’d turn it off when he found us listening to it, scolding us for ‘abusing a sacred thing.’”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Oh, look at this,” Remus startles you, excited. He pulls another record off the same shelf.
“This is too perfect,” he giggles. “I didn’t remember this came out then,” he muses, looking it over. “Probably didn’t get my hands on it till much later, I guess. But it’s like it was made for us. For you.” He hands you Just As I Am by Bill Withers, but you still don’t get what he’s saying. He sees your confused look and chuckles. “Second track,” he hints. Your eyes land on “Ain’t No Sunshine.” 
“Sunshine”: Remus’s nickname for you for years. You had Sirius to thank for it actually. He’d said you and Remus were like yin and yang. And since you all already called him “Moony,” you had to be “Sunny.” The other three of you cringed at the sound of that, so he tried “sunshine” instead, conceding it was close enough, and it stuck. Over the years, Sirius and James used it less and less, Remus more and more.
“It’s your song,” Remus urges, knocking his shoulder against yours. “There literally can’t be sunshine when you’re gone because you are sunshine.” He sounds too excited, and it’s adorable. 
“You sound like Sirius saying he’s serious,” you tease. He just laughs and takes the record back.
“Whatever, grumpy. It’s an epic song, and you know it, and now it’s yours, and I don’t care if that’s cheesy.”
“I love it,” escapes you, teasing tone gone. His eyes snap to yours, and he looks at you warmly.
“Alright, sunshine,” he whispers. A beat. “Wanna listen to it?” he asks, voice almost normal again. You nod gladly then go back to the sofa as he sets it up.
Remus soon comes back and joins you. He grabs the spliff from between stacks of snacks you’d prepared for the afternoon then looks over at you.
“Ready, sunshine?”
“Mhhm.”
“You do the honours.” He hands it to you and grabs the lighter. Rather than handing that to you too, he lights it for you as it dangles from your parted lips. 
You take a long drag, feeling it enter you and welcoming it. You cough lightly as you exhale slowly. You are no novice but are still always a cougher. Remus still always giggles when you do, but it’s never mocking. He has a glass of water ready for you, knowing you well, always looking after you. You trade him the water for the spliff, which he proceeds to hit with equal enthusiasm and less wheezing.  
You pass it back and forth for a little while. It’s strong stuff and just three hits in, you feel it engulfing you. The settee feels softer; the music sounds better. 
“Ain’t No Sunshine” is playing, and in your dazed state, you’re sure this is going to be the peak of the album even if it doesn’t coincide with the peak of your high. You close your eyes, and you can feel the music on your skin. 
Remus chuckles next to you, and your face turns to him.
“You look so stoned right now,” he explains, giddy. 
“That’s because I am,” you laugh. Once you start laughing it’s hard to stop; once Remus joins, it’s almost impossible. 
You chat easily, observations and jokes from both of you greatly benefitting from the induced assistance. Remus has a revelation about your listening to HI-fi while high. Your mind is blown multiple times at how deep the lyrics are. 
“They’re all talkin’ at him, but he doesn’t hear a word they’re sayin’, Moons! Not a word! I should do that,” you tell him as if it’s the most urgent thing in the world. He cracks up. “He’s so right, you know? Gotta keep the sun shining through the pouring rain, you know?”
“Uh-huh, I know, sunshine, I know,” he just laughs at you.
“You have such a nice smile, Moony,” you observe, dazed just as much from the feelings perambulating through your system than the pot doing the same.
“Yeah?” he asks, exaggerating it till he’s all teeth and squinty eyes. 
“Yeah,” you laugh. “It looked funny upside down over there,” you remember. “Watch!” 
You flip over on the sofa till your feet are up where your neck should rest and your head is dangling off the edge where your knees would normally be. You smile up at him. Remus doubles over laughing with you, bringing his face much closer to yours as he leans into it. 
“You’re right. Looks funny,” he tells you much more softly than you expected after his cackling. He watches you intently then brings a hand to your upside down face. He traces your features lightly, and it’s warm and tingly. His long finger travels down your nose, across your eyebrows. 
“C’mere,” you whisper to him.
“Where?” he whispers back, his voice a gruff chuckle again. 
“Down here!” you whisper-yell. 
You pull his shoulder down and start kicking his legs up as he contorts until you get him in the same position as you. You end up side by side, upside-down on the sofa. 
Each of you giggles at the other as you steal side glances. Your faces, pulled the wrong way by gravity, softened more than normal by the smoking, look even goofier through your incessant giggles and pointless efforts at holding those back.
You listen, and laugh, to at least a whole song like this. You kick each other’s feet throughout. As one of your kicks brings you closer to Remus, he rolls over to tickle you. You laugh so loud you can’t even hear the record over it. 
“Stop, Rem! Stop!” you plead. “I’m already too dizzy.” 
He keeps it up a moment but soon takes pity on you and helps move your body the right way around, his strong hands manipulating you easily. 
“Alright, dizzy. Enough upside-down,” he says as he fixes your now crazy hair. 
You just nod and shift closer to him. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he shuffles to a comfortable height for you, laying his own head on yours. 
A primary reason you enjoy getting high with Remus: you both get snuggly. You’re touchy normally, even more than most best friends you’ve seen, but not overly so. When you’re high, it’s overly so. But it somehow doesn’t feel weird. In fact, it feels wonderful. 
So, it feels wonderful, not weird, when you absentmindedly reach over for his hand. He gives it to you easily, and you begin caressing it. 
“Your skin is so soft, Rem.” You pull his hand closer to you, bringing it close to your face, looking it at like you’ve never seen a hand before. Remus takes the opportunity and quickly grabs at your nose playfully. You giggle at this as he responds to your initial comment.
“In between all the scars maybe.” He sounds matter of fact. There’s a lot less pain in his voice now when he talks about them than when he did in your younger years. You look forward to the day when you hear no pain there at all. 
“No, the scars too,” you correct him gently, and you bring your thumb to a scar that runs from the top of his hand up to his forearm. You trace it with reverence, and he shivers at your touch. You know for a fact you’re the only person in the world he allows to touch them. You’re so grateful for his trust, and in this moment, your emotions heightened, your inhibitions lowered, the vibrations of the music moving through you, you feel the need to tell him so. 
“Thank you for letting me touch you, Moony.” 
Remus has been watching where your hands are connected until now, but at your words, he looks into your eyes. He just looks at you for a long moment. You can’t tell how long, time elongated and indeterminable in your current state, but you’re completely comfortable to sit in it through its entirety, looking straight back at him. 
Eventually, the softest grin blossoms on his face. You mirror it. 
“Thank you for not being afraid to,” he whispers. You genuinely don’t understand. 
“Why would I be?”
“You know what I mean,” he tries to explain. He looks down in shyness but back at you before continuing, “Maybe ‘afraid’ isn’t the right word. Maybe it’s ‘disgusted’ or something…” 
His voice is fading to a low whisper by the end, like the louder the words are the truer they’ll be. 
Without hesitating, you tell him the truth: “Remus, you’re the least disgusting person in the world. You’re beautiful.” He grimaces like he can’t believe you, so you go on. “You are.” 
You turn your body even more toward him, bringing your connected hands to your almost shared lap and bringing your other hand to caress his cheek. 
“Silly Moony. You’re so sickeningly beautiful,” you chuckle. Your hand runs up through his hair. “This hair is ridiculous,” you inform him, tousling it. He leans into your touch like a content puppy. “These eyes.” You trace circles around each of them, first skimming his eyebrows then looping around. “They’re the easiest thing in the world to melt into, no pot needed.” You feel them crinkle as they smile into your compliments. “This nose.” You trace it slowly. “These lips,” you say more softly. You feel his gasp when you touch them then feel nothing, his breath held as you trace them. “And your scars,” you say with some finality. You trace a prominent one across his face. He closes his eyes while you do, opens them again when you reach its end. “You beauty isn’t one to be ruined by scars, Remus Lupin. Your beauty is the kind that incorporates the scar and makes that beautiful too.” 
Remus squeezes your interlaced hands. Your faces are so close to each other that you could see his eyes moisten as you tell him all this. He closes them before full tears form and moves his face that tiny bit closer till his forehead rests on yours. You nuzzle his nose, and he nuzzles yours back. 
“It’s so quiet,” you whisper, breaking the silence — noticing the silence. You didn’t notice when the album ended.  Remus just hums in response. 
The silence is loaded but peaceful. You don’t want to pressure him into having to say something back after you let yourself get so intense with him. It wasn’t about what he said back; it was about his understanding how you saw him, how you hoped he would see himself. 
So, with his eyes still closed, you give the scar that runs across his nose a light kiss, do the same to another larger one across his jaw. Then you bring your head back to his shoulder, snuggling into him to mark the end of the moment, no further pressure necessary. 
Remus shifts his body closer, as close to you as possible. He brings his arm around your shoulders without letting go of your hand. He’s holding you close, and your arm crosses your chest to keep your hands intertwined. He kisses the top of your head — new, sweet — then rests his own there again — familiar, warm. Your thumb absentmindedly strokes the back of his hand. 
You sit together in the quiet a long while. You close your eyes, breathe Remus in, let his body, his presence envelop you then just bask in it. Everything feels pleasantly heavy — the air, his body where it touches yours.
You settle into him, and without your noticing you’re doing it, your hand on his stills. 
“Don’t stop,” he whispers. 
“Hm?” you need to ask, unsure what he means. You look up, and he looks down, and your faces are a breadth away from each other. 
“I liked how you were touching me,” he whispers. “I always like how you touch me,” he adds like a secret. 
He brings his hand that’s not holding yours up to your face. First, the backs of his fingers brush lightly over your cheekbone then he rests his hand there. His fingers hold your jaw; his thumb caresses your cheek. Like you tend to do, you lean into his touch. 
His gentle, soothing touch flutters your eyes closed. Your inability to see his face makes it less scary to respond, “I always like how you touch me too.”
“Yeah?” he sighs, his hand holding you a bit more tightly, his thumb coming down to graze your bottom lip. You nod slowly, his hand moving with your head.
“Do you ever think about other ways we could touch each other?” he whispers. Your eyes fly open at this and land on his: lidded, dilated, gazing into your own. 
“Do you?” 
“I asked you first,” he giggles. “And I’ve already told you a secret today. It’s your turn.”
“What secret?” Your voices are still soft, whispering even though there’s no need for quiet other than your intimacy demanding it. 
“About my crush.” 
“I had a crush on you too,” you tell him. “So now we’re even.”
“That’s not fair, sunshine,” he smiles. You smile back. 
Then, after a moment, like he can’t help it, “You did?” 
“Of course I did.” 
“What happened?” he echoes. 
“Nothing,” you confess. 
His eyebrows furrow, unsure how to interpret this. His eyes hold hope and trepidation at once. 
“I got to know you… And we became friends…” you continue. His expression falls, and you’re pretty sure you recognize this look as disappointment. But you go on, “And it made me love you all the more.” 
You’re ready to read his expression closely this time, but you don’t get the chance before he’s kissing you, before you’re kissing back. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NSFW beyond this point ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It’s slow. Deliberate. His lips push on yours; his arms bring you closer. His tongue teases your lips, and though they part in response, his tongue traces them rather than push in. You whimper at the feeling of it, and he moans at your reaction. He breathes you in, covers your whole mouth with his, devouring the sound, devouring you. 
Now his tongue enters your mouth, exploring, playing with yours. You’re not sure whether his movements are slow or whether they just feel slow because you’re still high. You are sure you have no desire to speed any of it up. 
You bring your hands to either side of his face, holding him gently but pulling him to you. He follows easily, and when your chests are almost flush, you trace your hands down to his shirt and pull him on top of you as you lean back, lying down on the sofa.
You keep kissing a deliciously long while then Remus goes beyond your lips, kissing along your jaw leisurely. He mouths at your skin, licking, nipping his way unhurriedly down to your neck. Here he languidly runs his tongue along the length of your neck, kissing your pulse point, nipping behind your ear. 
Everywhere he touches is buzzing, and you shiver at the sensation. When his breath blows cold air on your now wet skin, you shiver even harder, your body shuddering against his above you. He chuckles into the crook of your neck and continues. 
After another while of his working his way down, he has to pull the neck of your shirt down to reach further. You bare your neck to him, loving his exploratory path. 
When his mouth leaves your skin for the first time in several minutes, your impulse is to immediately pull him back to you.
“Let’s take this off,” he whispers sedately, gruffly, tugging at your top. 
You pull it off and don’t waste time unclasping and sliding your bra off as well. Remus looks at you, dopey and delighted, but without further ado, pushes your chest so that you lie back again. His hand stays on you and begins lazily kneading your breast as he brings his mouth back to you.
He kisses the base of your neck and continues his previous ministrations across your collarbones. He seems to be on a mission to trace the entire surface area of your skin with his wandering mouth, and you have every intention of letting him and enjoying every long second of it. 
As he makes his languorous way down your sternum, you arch your back, pushing up into him, and bring your hands to his messy hair, holding him close. You scratch and tug, needing somewhere to release some energy, every part of you he’s touched left humming warm and electric. He groans into your chest, and you’re certain you feel the vibrations move through your skin, across your chest cavity, and into your heart, where they ricochet within it, making it beat faster. 
“Remus,” you whine adoringly. He hums into your skin again in response and speeds up his southward trajectory just the slightest bit. 
His face comes between your breasts, and he runs his teeth down the valley, then licks his tongue up the same path. You shake a little, and his hand squeezes your breast tighter. The other one he mouths across until his tongue traces a slow, wet circle around your nipple. This shoots a hot, jolting current straight from where his mouth is connected to you down to between your legs.
He’s gentle for a while, moving back and forth between your tits, often agonizingly slowly, his hands kneading at your chest all the while. Without your expecting it, though, he bites one of your hard, sensitive nipples and tugs lightly. You squeal and push your chest into his mouth. He keeps going, switching as he fancies between rough and tender. 
At a bite of the side of your breast, you rut up into him, and the movement has you feeling how wet you are. You’ve never been this wet before before direct stimulation. 
Remus holds your hips down to the sofa but moves from your chest to your stomach. His roaming mouth proceeds at its perfect, maddening pace. It meanders to your ribs, down your sides, not following a straight path down. 
Once he eventually reaches the threshold of your pants, he looks up at you. 
Remus looks higher than you’ve ever seen him before. He looks elated, in awe. 
“I want to spend hours and hours on your body like this,” he tells you, nuzzling his face into your lower stomach, kissing it as he detaches from you.
“Remus,” you whimper, running your hand into his hair and inadvertently thrusting your hips up. He chuckles, still sounding high, but his voice is as low as you’ve ever heard it.
He takes your trousers and underwear off in one efficient but slow tug. He pulls his shirt off much faster, and you touch all his skin you can reach before he’s repositioning himself.
Your thighs feel cold now uncovered, but it’s nothing compared to the sensation of fresh air on your soaking cunt. As you adjust your body, you feel a thick wetness drip from your entrance down to where your arse meets the sofa. You feel the coldness of that wetness even more as Remus pushes your legs further apart to position himself between them. 
You’re completely sure you’re wetter than you’ve ever been before, but you’re not sure if you could possibly be as wet as you feel, thinking the high could be heightening your sensation of it. You’re worried it’s too much, worried you’ll put Remus off. 
“I can clean up a little if —“ you start, but you’re cut off by Remus diving in, running his flat tongue slowly, firmly up from the base of your puddle up to your pubic bone. A strangled, prolonged gasp functions as the end of your sentence.
When Remus licks you again, your thighs shake on either side of his head. You feel him laugh into your cunt, and this time you imagine the vibrations shooting all the way up your body, following the chaotic roadmap his mouth left lingering across it.
Remus pulls back from you and rests his chin on your pubic bone, looking up at you. 
He informs you simply, “You taste delicious, darling.” He looks drunk on it. 
“Everything tastes better when you’re high,” you tease.
“Then I’m really going to enjoy this,” he smiles. “But I’m pretty sure you’ll get me high just by letting me do this other times.” 
“Other times?” 
“Well, yeah…” he giggles. His eyes bore into yours even though he’s the length of your torso away. “I though this was a first, not an only…”
“Good.” You sound giddy. “Just checking.”
“Silly,” he shakes his head at you. You thrust your hips up and laugh at the expression he makes when you bump his face, like he’s dazed. He squeezes your thigh harshly where he’s holding you. 
“Behave, sunshine. It’s feeling dangerous down here.” 
“I thought you were enjoying it.” 
“I am.” A bite at your hip. “And I’m seriously getting the munchies, so just…” You don’t understand the end of his sentence, the words muffled against your skin as he starts eating you out.
It’s heavenly. High as you are, in love as you are, you think you’re on cloud nine. This gets you wondering where such an odd expression even comes from. It seems so random. 
“Moony?”
“Hmm?” is grunted into your cunt.
“Why do you think it’s called being on cloud nine?”
He pulls back. The whole lower half of his face shines in your slick. 
“Why are you thinking about that right now? Am I that bad at this?”
“Bad? It’s amazing.” You ruffle his hair in your groping hands. “Which is why I’m on cloud nine, which is why I’m thinking about that right now. Your hair is as soft as clouds, Moons.” 
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Am not,” you giggle.
“Are,” he teases.
“Can you keep going now? It felt so good. Your mouth is ridiculous.” You thrust your hips up at him again.
“Ridiculous and bossy,” he complains, but he’s smiling hard, and before you can even think of a retort, he does as you bid. 
His mouth takes its time between your legs. He spends eternities teasing you: mouthing at the tops of your thighs, licking up your bikini line, nipping at your clit without giving it the attention he knows you want from how loud you whine every time he gives it the slightest graze. He loves all over your vulva, not leaving any part untouched, unworshipped. His tongue fucks into your entrance languidly; it swirls there. He licks your labia, sucks on it, gives the same attention to your clit when you moan loud enough. He travels back and forth, seemingly enjoying all of it too much to stick to any one attention too long. The next time he lands on your clit, he prolongs it.
Your legs shake; your back arches; your whines grow loud before turning strangled, and Remus takes his cue to reserve the relaxed approach for later. He picks up his pace, gripping your thighs tightly and shakes his whole face into you, alternating between licking and sucking rhythmically at your clit. You cum hard, and it feels like it goes on for minutes. 
With your eyes closed, you truly feel like you’re floating, your only anchor to the world Remus Lupin where you feel his body attached to yours. 
You’re laughing in pleasure, and the laughs turn to pants as you slowly, slowly come down. You love coming down to an already high baseline, and you giggle at the sensation of relaxing into a still heightened state. 
It suddenly strikes you it feels like it’s been years since you talked to Remus, heard his mellifluous voice, and you startle your eyes open searching for him. 
You see him immediately. He’s gazing at you with equal parts ardor and adoration, but when he sees your expression, his shifts to concern. 
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, my love?” He rushes to hover just above you. His face is close to yours again, though it’s scanning all over your body. His hand holds your face gently, his other arm holding him up. “Did something feel bad? Does something hurt?” 
“No, no, I’m fine, Moons, I’m fine,” you rush to reassure. “I just missed you,” you explain.
“Missed me?” His eyes shoot to yours. “I’m right here, love; what do you mean you missed me?” He can’t help a subtle giggle, and his adoring expression takes back its rightful place on his beautiful face. 
“I just thought I hadn’t seen you in too long.” Your hands caress his face, thread through his hair. “Or heard your voice…” 
“Hmm,” he hums, leaning into your touch. “I’m right here. What do you want me to say?”
“Anything,” you smile. 
“I love you.” 
You’ve heard them before, but never like this, and they’re the best words in the world, in the universe. 
“Remus,” you sigh, leaning up to kiss him. He tastes intensely of you, and you laugh into the kiss. “I’m sorry I got you so… so slicky.”
“I don’t mind,” he chuckles. “Means it was good, right?”
“Beyond. ‘Good’ is like… like one colour out of a whole rainbow for how that just felt.” 
He’s beaming down at you and kisses you again, lingering there. 
When he finally separates from you, his caressing thumb comes to wipe some slick at the corner of your lip. You grab his hand and kiss each of his fingers lightly. Then you lick down his long index finger, your tongue finding and following a scar up his hand to his wrist.
You look into his eyes, and he’s staring at you, transfixed. 
“I was thinking about your fingers when you were rolling the spliff.” 
“Yeah?” His voice is a desperate sigh. 
“Yeah.”
“What were you thinking about?” 
“How beautiful your hands are. How they’d feel touching me… How your fingers would feel inside me…”
“Fuck,” he whispers. “You wanna find out?”
“Yes,” you moan. 
“Get them nice and wet for me, and I’ll show you.” They’re already lingering at your lips, but he slowly pushes them in. You welcome them enthusiastically and lazily suck on them, swirl your tongue around them.
“Fuck.” His voice is low. “Fuck, I want to feel everything there is to feel with you.”
“Mmm,” you nod, your mouth still full. 
Remus takes his fingers out, kisses you, and lets his mouth stay on yours as his fingers trace down your chin, your chest, your stomach steadily, leaving a wet path. When they reach between your legs, you squirm in anticipation. 
He rubs a couple of tight, slow circles on your clit. You’re so sensitive, and it feels amazing. You mewl into his mouth where it still hovers just above yours. 
“Ready, my sunshine?” 
“Mmhhmm.”
Remus pushes two fingers into you ever so slowly. You release a low, slow whine the whole time he takes to press in. He gives you gentle kisses, eating it up. When his fingers are in to the hilt, you wonder how you didn’t feel devastatingly empty every moment of your life before this one. When he adds a third, you’re sure you will every moment after.
You clench purposefully around him, and he moans into your mouth. Closing your eyes again, it’s the easiest thing to let yourself be consumed by the sensations, by Remus. 
When he curls his fingers inside you, you clench again, this time automatically. You grip his hair and clutch his back, your arms pulling his body close to yours. 
The spot he starts massaging feels like it’s a blazing fire, but everywhere else you’re connected, your chests, your mouths, is scattered scalding embers.
You’re savouring every second, every sensation, already feeling another high building but relishing in the time it’ll take to get there. 
You run your hands down Remus’s back, feeling the bumps of his scars, the grooves of his defined muscles. For the first time all afternoon, you feel a desire to hurry… 
You start moving your hips to meet his rhythm, eager, even more than for your own climax, for your turn to take your time on him. 
495 notes · View notes
ellieslaces · 2 months
Text
NOTHING’S GONNA HURT YOU, BABY.
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featuring: leon kennedy x fem!agent!reader x ashley graham
synopsis: ashley graham's biggest weakness is attractive people, especially kind, attractive people. she was not expecting to be saved by two of the hottest, kindest people she'd ever met, much less to end up crushing on the both of them
content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; tension; lots of flirtatious banter; ashley shooting her shot for an entire fic basically; mentions of reader being bisexual; light smut; kissing (f!f & f!m); one bed trope; forced proximity; no real smut bc idk how to write a threesome :(
notes: takes place on the way back from Spain (technically post RE4R); one bed-ish trope (r&leon share a bed, and a room with ashley); ashley is sort of confused about her sexuality; semi-established relationship (r&leon); really more of a sibling dynamic between ashley and leon (it sounds weird, but its balanced in the actual fic, i promise)
word count: 6.13k (i’m so sorry)
chloe talks: was this entirely inspired by @postersofleon ? yeah, i read this post a week or so ago and i'm losin' sleep over it. so full credits to @postersofleon for the plot! luv their lil' drabble :) also, sorry this isn't more of a threesome fic. if it were a triple female threesome, i could work with that, but add a dick into it, i'm clueless. anyways, enjoy ashley fumbling for this whole fic (luv her, i just can't help embarrassing her shes so cute). also, please appreciate this, i wrote around 80% of this while i was supposed to be studying for an exam. that’s on adhd and procrastination :)
now playing: Nohings Gonna Hurt You Baby; Cigarettes After Sex
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It is entirely possible that blondes were, indeed, your weakness. Sure, over the years, you'd come to realize there was something especially alluring about lighter hair - possibly the way it reminded you of the sun, or how each strand looked like spun gold. Although, what seemed to seal your fate was the ever dangerous pairing of blonde hair and blue eyes. Oh, how alluring and damning was the color of icy blue coupled with silvery, silken strands.
For a time, you believed your weakness was encompassed only within your field partner, Leon S. Kennedy. God, how handsome was that agent. Not only handsome, but brave, and kind - awkwardly so, but it really is the principle of the thing. It was painstakingly obvious to everyone, other than Leon it seemed, that you were completely and forlornly in love with him. It seemed you were equally as blind to the evidence that Leon Kennedy was also miserably in love with you.
But the one person who noticed it upon first glance was Ashley Graham. Not only for the clear obviousness of the situation, but because the feeling was entirely, and unfortunately mutual. And it was this girl who also awoke the realization within you that Leon was not the only blonde-haired, blue-eyed person you found enticing.
Though, you were not the only one in this clandestine triad who had an impending weakness for certain types of people. No, you were not, Ashley had an Achilles heel for graciously kind people. Not just kind, but attractive. Not in a shallow or superficial way, but to say more that a person would catch her eye. She had no pre-existing physical type - no particular hair color, eye color, or even height preference. Just that they be kind. And much to the First Daughter's dismay, you were both horribly kind. In your own respective ways, of course.
Leon — as aforementioned — was awkwardly kind, despite how well he meant. He never knew exactly how to word his concern, or how to come about comforting someone. It was usually said in simple phrases such as “you okay?” or in way of one of many snarky comments he had stored in the deep recesses of his mind. Ashley thought he was funny; sometimes.
You, on the other hand, were painfully sweet to her. Always reassuring her that she was okay, and you were going to keep her safe. Field medic, that’s how Leon explained your role in her rescue. You were there to keep her and Leon healthy and in one piece, which you were startlingly good at. Any bruise or cut she procured was immediately treated by your sweet disposition and skilled hands. She liked how gentle you were with her.
So yes, Leon was kind in an awkward manner, and you were kind in a practical sense. And that devastating combination was her inevitable downfall.
From the moment you and Leon found her in that church, she knew she was fucked. Because, how could people look that good while doing the sort of jobs you had? There was no way, no way she would ever be able to form coherent sentences around you two. But, somehow, by some miracle, she got on with you both quite well. Despite the obvious moments of third-wheel-ism because you and Leon were so close.
There where multiple reoccurring occasions where Ashley suspected the pair of you may be together. Or at least fucking on the side. Because no two people who are just partners have that dynamic. The constant tension, the way Leon could be protective or even overbearing sometimes. The way you would rush to his side to patch up his wounds — no matter how small and minuscule they were — after a fight. Sometimes, despite how endearing it could be, Ashley was annoyed. Sure, you two had known each other for an extended period of time and had just met Ashley that day. But, it became so aggravating when you would consult each other without the inclusion of Ashley.
Many times you would apologize to her, expressing how sorry you were for leaving her out of conversations or hypothetical battle plans. It wasn’t that either of you thought she was stupid or couldn’t handle it. No, it was more along the lines that you were used to it just being the two of you. There was rarely ever a third party involved — other than Hunnigan chatting away in your ear pieces of course — in these types of situations.
Ashely was smitten, to put it lightly. She’d made several attempts to quote-unquote ‘shoot her shot’ with Leon. Little comments of how brave he was, how thankful she was for his saving her. Even calling him her ‘hero’ on one occasion or another. His name had posted permanent residence in her vocabulary it seemed.
However, her means of flattery with you was completely different. She was a little more bold with you, seeing as you were more of an open person than Leon was. She partook in the cliche, yet never failing flirtatious mannerisms — simple touches, giggling at your jokes, or simply sticking to your side in dangerous situations. It wasn’t that you didn’t notice, no, you just turned a conscious blind eye to it all. Ashley was a college girl, a sorority girl, a privileged girl. She was probably used to using flattery to get what she wanted, to gain the attention she so desperately thrived on.
Though as your time in the hostile Spanish village went on, you came to realize that it wasn’t superficial, Ashley’s flattery toward you and your field partner. Absolutely not, far from it. You realized after Leon had carried her to Luis’ laboratory and you managed to get the machine working to expel the parasite from her body, that Ashley was totally and completely smitten with the pair of you. She was attached in the worst way. And that would be your inevitable downfall.
Leon was consciously blind to it. Your partner — no matter his selfless tendencies and his awkwardly kind nature — was melancholic. He had a firm belief he was predestined to be miserable. That there was always another shoe waiting to drop. He didn’t deserve happiness, peace, love, a good life. So, he ignored it. He ignored how Ashley was equally as taken with him as she was with you. He didn’t bring it up, he didn’t even act like he noticed. Oh, but you did.
You saw the attachment so clearly by the time the three of you had managed to escape the crumbling island via Ada Wong’s gifted jet ski that Ashely was so attached to the pair of you. She’d offered positions on her own personal detail to you, claiming she could put a word in with her father. Denials were made, kind smiles and the shaking of heads. Too kind of an offer and you liked your jobs, is what you’d told her. That wasn’t at all what you were thinking though.
Post a Hunnigan meltdown over your earpieces, the three of you were told to stay the night in a shabby, rundown little local hotel in a larger town a couple dozen miles south of the village. Still in Spain, still tired, still craving a warm shower. One room, two beds. Great, one of you was stuck sleeping with someone. Ashely offered for one of you to have a bed to yourself, she’d sleep with the other. Not a great idea. You and Leon — having spent many awkward and difficult missions together, so this was not strange to either one of you — decided on giving Ashley a bed to herself and taking the other together
If you’d been alone, oh how your lovestruck little heart would have burst. Sharing a bed with Leon Kennedy, the object of your affection. The sole performer in your wildest — and wettest — dreams. But you weren’t alone. Ashley was in the room, a matter of feet away, in her own double sized bed.
If she hadn’t been — to be vulgar and completely honest — nothing would have stopped you from fucking him then and there. The tension between the pair of you had been growing thicker since your arrival in Spain. It was thick, painfully so, and also horrifically obvious not only to you, but yet again, to Ashley. For the longer stretch of the mission, she’d expected a grand confession at any moment. A breakdown caused by a dangerous situation that ensued a moment of emotional and even physical vulnerability. But, to her dismay and yours, that never happened. Because, above all things, Leon was professional for a lack of a better word. He wasn’t going to allow his emotions to jeopardize the mission.
And so no breakdown of emotional distress and vulnerability played out. No confession of hearts bleeding for the other were cried out. Part of you was glad it hadn’t happened that way. But the larger part of your soul which was dedicated to Leon had wished it had. You longed for the day he realized he needed you too. But, to maintain professionalism and dignity, neither of you made such admissions.
Warm showers were taken in rotation in the tiny excuse for a bathroom. The shower was small and permanently stained with grime, but really was clean as the owner swore. The shower head was one of the older ones from the seventies that made the water come out in a dribble, then a forceful rainfall that hurt your back. The toiletries provided by the hotel were small and cheap, but you were clean. That’s all that mattered.
Sans dried blood and grime, you sat on Ashley’s bed, cross legged as you patched up each one of her injuries. Ashley had been the first to shower, after a fifteen minute debate with the two of you over who should go first. She had a few bandages and exposed scrapes that needed to be re-cleaned. So, with gentle hands you did so as Leon took use of his turn to shower.
“Looks good, no signs of infection so far. But, like I said before, I can’t tell too much without the right equipment.” You reassured Ashely as you finished patching up a cut on her arm and began to put your first aid kit back together.
“Thanks,” Ashley nodded, inspecting her scrape riddled skin. Small bruises and surface cuts were beginning to make their appearance, telltale signs of the brutality the three of you had endured in that village.
“Let me know if you feel feverish or see any swelling. That could mean infection.” You offered, being kind but stern.
“‘Kay,” the girl nodded, smiling up at you as you let out a sigh, leaning back on your hands on the bed.
You looked at her, smiling softly as your head tilted to the side a little. “Need me to kiss it better?”
At this, Ashley’s eyes went wide, her cheeks dusted with pink. You felt a little bad then, you just tried to ease the tension. “S’okay, Ashley. I was just playing.” You laughed, your tone lighthearted as you placed a gentle hand on her knee with an equally gentle smile.
It seemed the touch was worst than the comment. Ashley’s entire face went aflame, her eyes wide, and large as she stared at you. An uneasy ache settled in your chest, uncertainty lingering in the air as your smile faded. The initial shock between the pair of you didn’t last long as the door to the bathroom swung open.
“Jesus, you could’ve left me some hot water.” Leon grumbled as he stepped out into the room, lips downturned and brows etched in an annoyed frown.
The three of you were now paused as Leon’s eyes fell on you and Ashely — or more-so on the hand that rested on Ashley’s knee. Reality seemed to snap into place all at once for you, yanking your hand back and standing up.
“Let me check you out.” You mumbled, clearing your throat as you picked up the first aid kit and took residence on your own bed.
“No, I’m fine. Check on Ashley,” Leon shook his head, damp blond strands sticking to his forehead.
“Already did. Just finished. Your turn, whether you like it or not.” You stated, your tone final as you looked up at Leon, brows raised.
The agent let out a huff of agitation, grumbling something indiscernible as he sat down on the bed beside you. You began to gently inspect Leon's wounds- some small, others more intense. Despite his prior hesitation to be taken care of, he was stoic about it all. He sat still, unmoving, silent as you worked to disinfect and cover each wound with fresh bandages. The silence in the room was loud, startlingly uncomfortable as you patched Leon up.
A quick glance over at Ashley as you finished bandaging a deep cut that you'd quickly stitched up on the field showed her wide eyes. Wide baby blue focused on the way your fingers gently worked, how graceful and careful they were again the alabaster tone of Leon's skin.
"Doing okay over there, blondie?” Leon inquired, a small smirk playing on his face as he spotted Ashley's startling gaze on the wounds decorating his skin. He had mistook her fascination of your hands as nervousness of his wounds. But you knew. You could tell what her gaze meant.
"Oh, yeah. M'fine." Ashley recovered very quickly, to your surprise. Well, maybe it wasn't just your hands that had her enraptured, Leon was sitting on the bed, shirtless.
"Alright, hero-boy, all better." You smiled at Leon as you patted his bicep - earning a small, almost inaudible grumble from him - and moving to close your medical kit. You stood, tucking away in your pack and let out a sigh. "’Kay, l for one, am fucking exhausted."
“Yeah, me too,” Ashely murmured, an aura of discomfort still radiating from her. She offered a kind, if not awkward smile to the pair of you before settling into the bed, pulling the overs over her shoulders. “G’night.”
“‘Night,” you smiled, shuffling over to the bed you and Leon were sharing. You sat down on the edge, eyes trained on the back of Ashley’s head — the blonde hair, how it shimmered against the dim light of the single lamp in the room. You felt almost as if you weren’t really there.
“Need me to check you?” Leon asked, snapping you back to reality. You jolted a bit, looking at him from over your shoulder.
“Oh, nah, I’m okay.” You shook your head, clearing your throat as you settled into the bed, flicking off the lamp.
“Okay,” Leon shrugged, getting into the bed too, still in just a pair of pants. Everyone was in the barest of clothing. You in a tank top and underwear — Ashely in the same. It was all you had. All your clothes were soiled with dirt, and grime, and blood.
Thinking of nothing in particular, you laid there, staring up at the ceiling of the dark room. The walls creaked every once in a while, odd drafts filtered in from cracks in the ceiling or from the window. It was too quiet. And it stayed that way for a long while.
“Everything okay with Ashley?” Leon asked, his voice quiet, as not to wake the subject of conversation.
“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You mumbled back, turning your head. He, too, was on his back. Both of you too afraid to face each other in bed, seeming too personal. “Why?”
“Just making sure.” His response was quiet, a little too nonchalant, as if he’d forced it to be casual. “It was awkward earlier.”
“Earlier?” You decided to play dumb, despite knowing that Leon wouldn’t believe it. He was well aware you knew what he was talking about. The touch. How Ashley had frozen when you’d touched her leg.
“Whatever, play stupid.” He scoffed with a half smile — a knowing smile. The bastard. “Just saying, she seems attached to you.”
“Oh, and she’s not with you, her hero?” You bit back with a hint of humor. Your voices were still low, hoping Ashely was asleep — or she couldn’t hear you if she wasn’t.
Leon laughed quietly, a rough scoff sound that echoed in your ears. You smiled at little at that sound. “Whatever you say,”
You frowned, gaining the confidence to shuffle onto your side, facing him as you contemplated what that simple, yet heavy ‘whatever’ meant. “What do you mean, whatever?”
Leon sighed, rolling onto his side to face you too. His eyes, still so blue even in the darkness of the motel room, bore into yours. It seemed he didn’t carry the same awkward feeling about this topic as you did. Or, maybe he did and he just hid it exceptionally well. But knowing him, that didn’t seem right.
“She’s just attached to you. Always at your side, or chatting your ear off. And what the hell was with that earlier?” He continued, brows furrowed in their eternal frown.
“I was patching her up. Making sure none of her cuts were infected.” You half shrugged, trying to play it off as something simple, even though it was so complex.
“She looked like she wanted to kiss you or something.”
“Oh, my God,” you rolled your eyes, trying to push away the way your chest tightened at the though. “You’re so fucking dramatic. She wasn’t gonna kiss me.”
“Okay,” Leon shrugged, his tone final and casually dismissive. Like he was finished talking about it. Like he didn’t believe you but didn’t want to say so.
“She was not going to kiss me.” You pushed, voice quiet yet firm. Your own brows were pulled into a frown, like what he’d said was offensive.
But it wasn’t. Kissing Ashley wasn’t a bad thought. It wasn’t as if you’d never kissed another girl before. The first time you had was in the training program for USSTRATCOM, your training partner who made you realize that all girls don’t look at other girls that way. She was the first, others followed.
Ashley was pretty, very pretty. Tall, pretty lips, and the blonde hair, blue eye thing, of course. Kissing her wouldn’t be so bad, really. It would probably be very nice. But nothing like kissing Leon, though.
“Okay.” Leon said again, shifting to lay on his back again, letting his eyes close. The finality of it all aggravated you. So, you asked him a question maybe you shouldn’t have.
“What if she did?” You asked, eyes narrowed and trained on him. A smile bloomed on your face at the way his eyes opened, his brows furrowing deeper at your question.
“What about it? It’s not my business.” Leon grumbled. But the tone he used made it wound like it was very much his business.
“M’kay.” You nodded, quietly celebrating to the way you’d seemed to have stumped him, surprised him.
For a moment, he didn’t respond. He stared at the ceiling, and you stared at him. It was deadly quiet, the rhythmic sound of Ashley’s breathing the sole sound in the room.
“Did you want her to?” Leon asked, mumbling quietly. His eyes stayed on the ceiling, as if he were afraid to look you in the eye when you answered. Afraid you had an answer he wouldn’t like.
“I dunno.” You admitted, honestly. You didn’t know, truly you didn’t. Kissing Ashely wouldn’t be so bad, but you hardly knew the girl. Not to mention her heavy attachment to you. It could get worse if she kissed you.
Leon nodded, not sure of how to answer your admission. He laid there, your eyes on him as you laid on your side. You wished so desperately for him to kiss you, or hold you, or do something. It was painful, the thought that he didn’t feel the same.
“Would that bother you?” You dared to ask, voice so low it was almost inaudible as you spoke.
Leon was still quiet for a long moment, maybe considering whether to answer seriously or with his usual dry humor. The latter won. “Not something I’d wanna walk in on.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Why? Because we’re girls?”
“Because she’d be kissing you.” He responding, saying it lightly, like the meaning of that simple sentence wasn’t the heaviest thing you’d ever heard.
Your mind did circles, your heart raced. Did he mean that because you were his partner? Or did he mean it out of jealousy. God, you hoped it was jealousy.
“What do you mean by that?” You questioned, voice apprehensive and unsure.
Leon shrugged, a soft, unintelligible grunt falling from his lips. He didn’t look over at you, his eyes still trained on the ceiling. The nagging feeling that was ever present in your chest worsened. The silence was deafening, painful. Then, finally, he spoke.
“It’d just be weird. It’s Ashely, it’d be weird.” He mumbled, like even he didn’t believe his own answer.
Leon’s words befuddled you, made you frown in contemplation. “Because it’s Ashley? What you mean by that?”
“I mean it’s Ashley. It’d be weird.” He repeated, not clarifying at all. This annoyed you.
Eyes narrowed, lips in a line, you scoffed. “Thanks for the explanation.”
“Anytime,” Leon clipped back playfully. But you were in no playful mood.
You huffed, Leon picking up on your attitude as you sat up in bed. “Seriously, what’d you mean by that?”
Leon let out a scoff of his own, rolling his eyes as he looked over at you. “I mean it’s just a weird thought. You and Ashley. We, we just met her, okay?”
“Oh,” you nodded, wishing you hadn’t jumped to your own conclusions internally. You’d thought he meant it was weird because she wasn’t him. Or maybe that he wanted to kiss you. Not such a simple and obvious answer.
“Yeah,” he nodded, letting out a small sigh to stifle a yawn. “Look, can we get some sleep now? Kinda have a long trip home tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.” You mumbled, lying back down on your back, eyes on the cracked ceiling once again.
It was quiet again, the discomfort of silence present once more as Ashley slept in the bed next to yours, and Leon tired to sleep beside you. Your mind buzzed with a thousand variations of the same question: why did Leon actually care so damn much?
“Go to sleep. You think too loud.” Leon grumbled, shifting to lay on his side, back facing you.
“At least some of us think,” you quipped quietly, earning a scoff of a laugh from him before he went silent for the final time that night.
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Of course Leon woke up at dawn. The asscrack of fucking dawn. And it wasn’t like he was quiet either. Shuffling of his feet as he stumbled to the bathroom, the sink creaking on. You tried so hard to stay asleep, but your stupid internal alarm clock was ringing too. Oh to be in D.C. where it was still dark.
“C’mon, get up. We need to get moving.” Leon said, his voice somewhat gentle as he rested a hand on your shoulder once he’d emerged from the bathroom, fully changed.
“I’m up. You’re loud.” You mumbled, voice muffled as you pressed your face into the pillow.
“Jesus,” Leon whispered under his breath. “Even Ashely’s up.”
“Good for her,” you nestled deeper into the pillow, hearing a second set of footsteps head toward the bathroom. Less than five short seconds later, Leon yanked the covers from your body, sending a muffled yelp from your lips.
“Up, we need to move.” Leon said again, giving your leg a small shake as you grumbled on about a lack of sleep. His gentleness was gone now, replaced by urgency.
Technically, you were still on ‘enemy grounds’. You weren’t safe until you were back on U.S. soil, and even then there carried a risk with Ashley in tow.
So, with more sour encouragement from Leon, you got up and changed into your now dry clothes. Once Ashely used up her turn in the bathroom, you took yours. And not long after, the three of you were heading back toward the lobby of the shabby motel.
You managed to convince Leon to stick around for an extra thirty minutes for a shitty cooked breakfast in the sad excuse for a dining room where the motel offered complimentary breakfast.
Once full of frozen scrambled eggs, stale toast, and really bad coffee, the three of you were on the move once more. It was tricky, getting home like this. Hunnigan had promised that of you made it to a certain location a few miles north of the motel, there would be a chopper waiting to pick you up. Hunnigan hadn’t failed you yet, so you didn’t doubt her.
“How much further?” Ashley asked, her brows creased, forehead already glistening with sweat as the three of you walked through the winding streets of a small village as you had been for the past few hours.
“Not too much. Tired?” You asked, slowing your steps to walk alongside the girl.
She nodded, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. Sympathy panged in your chest — Ashley wasn’t built for this like you and Leon were. The two of you had trained for exhausting situations such as these, she had not. You frowned.
“Need some water?” You asked gently, holding out a canteen from your belt. Ashley nodded vigorously, taking the canteen and drinking deeply.
You motioned to Leon to stop for a moment, he frowned, but did nonetheless. You stood with Ashley as she drank, taking a break before going back to drinking the water.
“Thanks,” she smiled, handing the canteen back to you — now half empty. “Sorry, I drank a lot.”
“That’s okay. Can’t have you passing out on us now, can we?” You smiled, taking a sip yourself before latching it back on your belt.
Leon, noticing that Ashely was finished with her break, began walking again. You and Ashely followed, keeping a small bit of distance between you and Leon.
“Hey, I um, I overheard you and Leon talking last night. Not everything, but some of it.” Ashley confessed, her voice a bit hesitant.
“Oh, that so? What’d you hear exactly?” You asked casually, worry springing in your chest.
“Just, I’m sorry because I know you guys have a like, groove or whatever. And I mess it up and I make it weird.”
You frowned for a moment, thinking about her words. Then it hit you — she didn’t hear about the kissing discussion, just the last bit about her being new to the trio.
“Oh, Ashely. You don’t make anything weird. Leon and I… we weren’t talking about you making things weird.” You promised, lips curved downward as you and Ashley walked behind Leon.
“Then why’d Leon say that?” Ashely asked, the insecurity obvious in her voice.
You hesitated, unsure whether or not to say it to her face. That he’d thought you two were going to kiss. After a moment of consideration — and seeing Ashely’s sad, curious eyes — you decided to just say it. Consequences be damned.
“Because he thought you were going to try to kiss me. When he came out of the bathroom last night.” You explained gently, shrugging as if it weren’t a big deal. When it kind of was.
The girl was quiet for a long moment, her brows creased, lips turned downward. She swallowed, looking back at you from where she’d been staring at her feet. “And he meant it’d be weird if I did kiss you?”
“Yeah, that’s what he meant. Not because we’re girls,” you were quick to interject your previous statement. “But because it’s just… that you and I don’t really know each other that well.”
Ashley nodded, walking beside you as you followed Leon along the uneven stone paths. Every once in a while, he’d glance backward to make sure you weren’t lingering behind or somehow gotten lost.
“Okay,” one simple word carried such finality. It shook you — Ashley was uncomfortable.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel weird. I just wanted to be honest.” You tried to explain gently but firmly. You didn’t want her to think you were strange.
“You didn’t make me feel weird.” Ashely shook her head, eyes squinting in the mid-afternoon sun as she looked over at you.
You smiled a little, relieved you hadn’t put her off or made her uncomfortable. That really was the last thing you wanted. “Good,”
The three of you continued to walk along, and a little further up, you demanded a break. Leon huffed, claiming you didn’t have time for a break. But the sun was warm and you were quickly running out of water.
So, you stopped for a quick fifteen minutes before setting off again. Leon was walking much quicker than before — dead set on getting to the extraction point before sundown. Which was very much possible as you were a mere four miles away.
There was a chopper waiting, just as Hunnigan had promised. God, you’d mentally decided to name your first born after her, so thankful to finally leave Spain and sit your ass down.
You sat beside Leon in the back compartment of the chopper, all three of you sporting massive headsets to protect your ears. You chatted away with the pilot — a friend of Hunnigan’s named Danny who was funny, and reminded you of the late Mike who died in pursuit of getting you and Leon out of trouble in the village.
With the promise of a good meal and actual hot showers, Danny flew the three of you home. You were busy looking outside the chopper when Leon nudged your knee with his, earning a slightly venomous glare from you before he pointed to Ashley. Who was dead asleep across from you.
The ride back to D.C. was long, around six hours. Most of which were spent talking with Danny or falling asleep, slumped against Leon’s shoulder. Around twenty minutes before you were set to land — you and Leon had been previously discussing what you were doing first, eating, sleeping, or showering — you shook Ashley awake.
The poor thing was groggy and half asleep as you all filed off the chopper and bid goodbye to Danny — whom you’d made a promise to meet up with and have drinks in honor of Mike at his favorite bar he’d mentioned before he tragically died.
A government issued SUV waited for you, instructing the three of you to pile into the back so you could be taken straight to the President, then to testing. Which you put up a damn good fight. Who the fuck cared about testing? You were hungry and tired and dehydrated as hell. Leon shut you up quick though, despite not being happy about the arrangement himself.
Unfortunately, the car ride was around a half an hour. The driver — not as intimidating had he’d first appeared — flicked between radio stations ntil he landed on one he knew was Ahsley’s favorite. (Apparently he’d been the one to drive Ashely to college, so he knew what music she liked).
Much to Ashely’s dismay and deathly embarrassment, the fucking Backstreet Boys were playing. The driver turned it up, also having the knowledge that this particular track was one of Ashley’s favorites.
Unfortunately, you knew the lyrics too. You mumbled along with them, Leon biting back a smile at how ridiculous his own field partner could be.
“You like the Backstreet Boys?” Ashely asked, her cheeks a bit warm as you bopped your head to the beat and hummed along.
“Nah, but don’t be embarrassed.” You shook your head, smiling at the girl who was sitting between you and Leon.
“Music is music, blondie.” Leon agreed, nodding his head with your positive attitude. He looked back over Ashely’s head at you, trying hard not to smile at your antics. God, you could be so stupidly immature sometimes.
“Oh,” Ashley mumbled, slinking down further in her seat as the driver made the final turn and parked the SUV.
Leon exited first, then Ashley, and you to follow up the rear. You and Leon were armed, still charged with protecting Ashely, no matter the fact that you were indeed on U.S. soil again, and at the White House. The President didn’t greet you outside to your surprise, but you were ushered immediately to his office.
There he was reunited with his daughter, the emotional moment making you have to quietly clear your throat because it even choked you up to see Ashley so happy to see her father again.
You and Leon were thanked profusely, promised your compensation and the highest of honors and awards. To which you didn’t really want (except the money, fuck, you wanted the money), but you knew better than to even try to deny.
With that, you and Leon were quickly dismissed, told you were being led to government testing to be sure you really were clear of the parasites. You gave Ashley a quick goodbye smile and hug, Leon giving her a pat on the shoulder, telling her to behave herself.
She looked so unsure, so strange standing in the Oval Office, clothes grimy and blood stained, hair mussed as she watched you and Leon being escorted from the room.
The First Daughter felt a strange sort of emptiness in her chest then, watching you leave. Her brows furrowed as her father spoke incessantly to her about how worried he’d been and how much he missed her. You were agents, assigned to bring her home and leave. No more, no less. So why was she so devastated to see you go?
Of course, you felt a little sad to leave the girl behind. Despite spending only around forty-eight hours with Ashley, you found yourself realizing you’d miss her. Her smile and her comments and her laugh. The way she always asked if you were alright when you should have been doing so to her. How she tried her hardest to defend you and Leon, despite her chronic helplessness.
These things were not spoken to Leon though as you two walked out of the White House together, followed by guards back to the SUV you’d arrived in. But, even though you didn’t say it, you knew Leon felt it too. Somehow, in forty-eight short hours, Ashley had left a mark on you. The both of you. And you missed her already.
“Wait!” You stopped in your tracks, you and Leon almost simultaneously looking over your shoulder to see Ashley running out of the White House after you. She was panting, trying to catch up.
She ran to Leon first, wrapping her arms around his neck, taking the agent by such surprise it made him stumble backwards a bit. Leon wasn’t much of a hugger, you knew this personally. But, despite the action being hesitant and awkward, he hugged her back.
After a few moments — which you knew in your bones were long for Leon — he gave her a quick pat on the back. Ashely took the motion in stride and unlinked herself, smiling at him.
Then, she turned to you. Of course, you expected a hug as well, and you got one. She wrapped her arms around your neck too, you wrapped your arms around her middle, hugging her back with no hesitation. But what you hadn’t expected, was for her to lean back and press a kiss to your lips.
You paused, frozen, eyes wide as Ashley kissed you. What the fuck? She wasn’t a bad kisser, actually. You felt a little bad, not kissing her back as Ashley pulled away, letting go of you and taking a step back. You sort of wished you had kissed her back. But, as the girl stood there, she held no contempt for the fact that you hadn’t. She knew she’d taken you by complete surprise.
“Thank you, both of you. I know I already said it, but thank you for saving my life. It, it means a lot.” Ashely said, her lips — which had been as soft as you thought they were — curved in a sweet smile. Baby blue eyes darted between you and Leon.
Leon who was as shocked as you that Ashley had kissed you with such little hesitation. He was still recovering as well.
Ashely said no more, just offering one last wide smile before turning around and walking away. Her guard — which had followed her outside, running behind her — escorted her. She didn’t even look back, didn’t get a second look at the still shocked look on your face.
“Holy fuck,” you said finally, looking away from Ashley’s retreating figure to look at Leon. He was shocked as well, brows raised as he blinked for a moment.
“Yep, that was weird.” Leon mumbled, nodding as if in affirmation. He said no more, turning around and walking to the SUV, leaving you in momentary silence.
You blinked yourself back to the present, realizing Leon’s comment. You frowned, turning and quickly walking to the SUV as well. “So I didn’t just have a dehydration induced hallucination? She actually kissed me?”
“She actually kissed you,” Leon nodded as he buckled in the SUV, you climbing in and sitting beside him. The car started and rolled out of the parking lot.
“Oh my God.” You said, brows raised, shaking your head. You were unsure of what else there really was to say. You were at a total loss for words.
“Fucking weird.” Leon shook his head, whispering again.
This caused you to look over at him, brows raised. “Why? Because we’re girls?” You brought up your challenge from the previous night, knowing full well you’d get the same damn response.
“No, because it's you.”
You frowned deeper, lips downturned. Oh, you liked a good fucking challenge. “You think I’m like, un-kissable, or something, Kennedy?”
Leon rolled his eyes, exhaustion obviously catching up to him. He looked tired — physically and mentally. “I didn’t say that. It’s just weird.”
“See, that’s not an explanation. Just like it wasn’t last night.” You chided, eyes narrowed.
“Christ,” Leon mumbled under his breath as shook his head, clearly regretting ever speaking in the last five minutes. “It’s just weird to see my partner being kissed like that.”
You took this as your chance, a grin forming on your lips. “By another girl? Or just in general?”
“General.” Leon responded, obviously not caring of how bored it sounded.
“Jealous or something?” You challenged further, lips pulled in a shit-eating grin.
Oh you’d gotten him there. You could tell by the way Leon’s shoulders tensed and his too casual expression that he was, indeed, sickeningly jealous. An idea — stupid, one that may ruin your dynamic — popped into your head.
You turned your body to face Leon in the backseat, grinning as he frowned at your sudden closeness. With no hesitation or moment for him to react, you leaned forward and kissed him. Square on the mouth. It must be a thing for blondes to have really soft lips.
Leon didn’t say a word, didn’t pull back, didn’t move. He just let you kiss him. Which was strange in and of itself. You placed a hand on his cheek, him a hand on the back of your neck. Eureka, he’d wanted to kiss you all along. Fuck yes, that’s all you could think.
Leon was a decent kisser too, a really good kisser actually. You scooched a little closer, allowing him to hold you by the back of your neck, your body relaxed against his as if it were natural to do so.
Was this what Ashely was feeling when she’d kissed you? Absolute elation and joy? You didn’t let yourself wonder too much, getting swept up in the fact that you were kissing Leon. His hand was gentle yet firm on the back of your neck, your hand on his cheek drifting down to rest against his chest. This moment, God you wished it could last forever.
Which unfortunately, it didn’t. You heard someone clear their throat, the driver looking at you through the rear view mirror. You pulled back, cheeks a little warm. You must look like some sort of girl. Someone who got around maybe. First the First Daughter had kissed you, now you were verging on making out with your field partner in the backseat of a government vehicle.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, pulling away from Leon and sitting back on the seat.
Leon scoffed to himself, letting his hand fall from where it’d been resting on the back of your neck. “You’re stupid,”
“Excuse me?” You let out a small laugh. You’d kissed him and he was calling you stupid? What the hell?
“I can’t believe it took you that long to realize.” Leon shook his head, making you roll your eyes. He’d been jealous the whole time. So the comment of how weird it’d been that Ashley would kiss you — and actually had — was exactly what you thought. Huh, you were some amateur detective.
“Shut up,” you smiled, mumbling as you crossed your arms over your chest, sinking into the seat.
“Nope.” Leon shook his head, making you smile wider.
Maybe these tests wouldn’t be so bad, now that you had two kisses to think on. One you could only ever remember, and one you could receive a million more of once all this was over.
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how you can help Palestine! 🇵🇸
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sstar-ggirl · 8 months
Text
The Charming Man| Neil Lewis x gn!Reader
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Mars rants about things: LITERALLY LOVE HIM SO MUCH and he’s literally The Smiths coded idc what you mfs gotta say. And his favorite Smiths song is ‘Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now’ because yeah i said so. But in this fic he shades Y/N so much for listening to The Smiths bc he’s a little asshole and I love him.
Warnings: Cursing, Neil being a hater but its playful banter bc him and Y/N are childhood friends, they are in an established relationship of course, eww holding hands, EWWWW KISSING, y/n threatens Neil once but its playful banter and they are joking, pet names both cute and cringey to annoy Neil, they dance in the end bc why not :D! Neil loves the smiths but doesn’t want to admit it.
Word count:798 words
An average boring day in Gumshoe Video and there you stood organizing the tapes and sorting out what needed to be specifically on display for inviting customers, and also because there was an upcoming event for specifically dark detective movies, and he wanted to be prepared beforehand. Your head bobbed along to the song playing in the speakers, slightly swaying your hips to the song. “What she asked of me at the end of the day, Caligula would have blushed.” You were singing along to the song and then low and behold your boyfriend Neil walks in from his office “ Y’know babe I don’t know why you listen to this boring crap; studies show that music will slowly rot your brain as time goes by.” You chuckle in response to this “Neil my love, Shut up. And what study even says that? And so be honest with me Neil, you like The Smiths, and may I add, I caught you nodding along to the song literally 3 days ago.” He looked so shocked and offended at that statement, it was like you told him his movies and store suck. “I do not?? You listen to them so much it gets irritating sometimes and it’s completely normal for a human being to nod along to the sound of music even if they hate it.”  You couldn’t contain yourself now. His face was red as an apple as you continued “Also this is why you love me! I’m not going to ruin your chances of the universe punishing you with eternity because you like a music group that started in England way back in the 80’s.” You jabbed him in the arm playfully. “And this is why I love you Neil, your stupid ass always seems to have a smart-ass opinion on everything I do because Mr. Neil Lewis has to be the king of the world and cinema!” And you both cracked up at the fact that you're actually right about that.
“Can I join you?” He was teasing you now and was walking towards you and placed a hand on the shelf you were organizing. You hand him a tape and continue. Then he says out of nowhere, playing with the tape in his hands instead of helping. "I love it when you’re this opinionated and you think there's nothing bad about you because you're always the leader of everything and you have to get the red crayon.” “Yeah, yeah whatever Neil, continue talking about kindergarten Neil and watch when I clock you again in your fucking nose. On the same spot too!” After that was said, he walked away to sit at the counter and his gaze stood on you. You were humming along to the song and then once you finished you dusted your hands off and walked towards Neil and held his hands swinging them side to side sort of dancing. “What are you even doing Y/N…” “Shh shut up and dance with me.” He tried to pull away, but you immediately wrapped your arms around his waist. “No, I don’t-” You cut him off with a kiss to his cheek “Come on please Neil for me, please cupcake” “No Y/N. I refuse.” “Please sweet cheeks.” You had to contain yourself from laughing as he cringed at the name you gave him “What is wrong with you Y/N?” “Come on princess, I’ll cook dinner tonight and we can watch any movie you want even the most unfathomable movies to exist.” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine because that offer sounds too irresistible.” You clapped and dragged him away from the counter for more space, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his chest, He rested his arms around your hips and laid his head on top of yours swaying both of you, Neil softly started humming the song ‘The Charming Man’ by The Smiths and your jaw dropped, “So you DO like The Smiths after all!” you looked up at him and he shushed you and put your head back to its previous position, “Shh sweetheart, I was joking with you the whole time, I like some of their songs.” Your eyes rolled at that, but you couldn’t help but blush and feel content with how you two were right now.
Moving your arms to his waist and hugging him tighter you sighed “I love you, Neil Lewis. I love you so much baby.” He moved his head and gave you a kiss and you melted into and eventually pulled away for air. “I love you too Y/N L/N, you're all I need to keep me alive.” And then the moment of passion and cuteness was ruined by a customer walking in. ‘Always at the wrong moments huh?'
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delcakoo · 2 years
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彡 compromise. - p.sh
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requested for 1k au event!
SUMMARY ! being roomates with the biggest (and hottest) slacker on campus was difficult to say the least. plates left on the counter, clothes from him and the girl’s he brings over left in the living room, the list goes on. one day after you’ve had enough of his uncleanliness, sunghoon offers you to be his girlfriend in exchange for a tidy, mess-free apartment. totally not worth it.. right?
PAIRING ! roommate!sunghoon x f!reader
WC ! 2.1k
GENRE ! roomates au, fake dating, fluff (?) and lots of banter
WARNINGS ! slight suggestive, making out, sunghoon being a bit too confident for his own good
a/n: woohooo first fic for the event done! thank you for requesting anon! <3
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if you go into the living room and find another one of park sunghoon’s socks on your couch, you might just explode.
you take a deep breath in, and out. the moment of truth. you slam open the door to your sunghoon-proof bedroom, taking quick paces towards the living room and—
there it is.
a sad, lonely sock without it’s matching pair laid on your couch. you knew it.
park sunghoon. one of the most sought after guys on campus, yet it was only his first year of college.
meanwhile, it was your third. so how you became roommates with him? one, tragic answer: you were broke and desperate for someone to split rent with after a few.. unfortunate incidents with your past roommates.
sunghoon wasn’t a bad person. he did little things like pick up your forgotten mail, or turn on your coffee machine while you got ready in the bathroom. though, you'd still say he ranked number one on your list of the worst roommates you’ve ever had.
he was lazy, irresponsible, and oh so messy. 80% of the time, while you were busy being productive and studying, he was busy tackling people with a ball under his arm or in the middle of coaxing some girl to come home with him after partying all night (which didn’t take much effort on his part considering that face of his).
now, you weren’t a hater. sunghoon got into this university with his talent for football alone, so props to him for.. catching balls. honestly, if he wasn’t the way he was, you’d probably fall for his handsome charms yourself. but when his annoying, mosquito-like presence decided to intervene with the peaceful sanctuary that was once your neat and homely apartment, all wrath was destined to come out of you at some point.
for a while, you were nice enough to clean up after the younger boy, making pathetic excuses for him in your head in an effort to be a kind, forgiving roomate.
but after a month of dealing with his unwashed plates left on the counter, clothes scattered around the living room from not only him but also the girls he brings over, and all in all his untidiness everyday, you’ve finally snapped.
this feeling of undeniable rage may partially be because of how stressed you are from all the new assignments and lack of coffee, but you’ve never felt more ready for confrontation by the time you’ve reached sunghoon’s bedroom door.
you offer two passive aggressive knocks, not even waiting for a reply before yanking the door open. “look sunghoon— we have to talk.”
nobody.
you take a few cautious steps inside his disarrayed bedroom, nose wrinkling at the sight of a mountain of clothes near his bed despite a closet being a few steps over. there’s random magazines and papers scattered across the floor, along with an unkempt stash of trinkets thrown on top of his drawer. you glance at his closet, half opened and containing only about two jackets actually hung up on racks.
“woah, never thought i’d find the campus nun snooping around my bedroom.” you whip your head around to find a shirtless sunghoon staring down at you, toothbrush perkily sticking out of his mouth. his muscled biceps flex as he crosses his arms, raising a curious brow at the sock pinched between your nails.
your eyes bulge at the sight of his bare, sculpted torso, turning around with a tint of red rushing to your ears. “just because i don’t spend every night getting wasted doesn’t make me a nun, nor was i snooping,” you spit defensively.
sunghoon chuckles, padding across his room to pick up a random top off his shirt mountain. “says the girl who just covered her eyes like she’s never seen a shirtless guy before.” he smirks, glancing down at your childish bear printed pajamas. “i mean — not that i think you have.”
you spin back around, huffing in relief now that he was dressed and pointing to the sock in your hand. “shut up, i’m only here to listen to your amazing explanation on why i keep finding socks and other assortments of clothing all over the living— hey! don’t walk away when i’m talking to you!”
you frustratedly discard the sock somewhere on his bed, following your roommate back out to where he’s now rummaging through the kitchen pantry, toothbrush long forgotten on the sink’s rim. you take another deep breath, trying to stay calm. “sunghoon,” you begin.
“yeah, pretty girl?” your eye twitches in disbelief, hating the way butterflies flutter through your stomach from the nickname he’s always called you.
“i told you, don’t fucking call me that. now listen here,” you try to look stern, but sunghoon personally believes you look adorable. “i’ve been dealing with your bullshit all month without a single complaint,” you rant, watching as he pulls out a box of cinnamon toast crunch. “do you ever wonder how all those plates and bowls you leave in the sink magically disappear? yeah, well, that was me slaving my ass away like your personal housemaid!”
your roomate is completely unphased by your vent, too busy pouring his cereal into an empty bowl with a shrug. “nobody told you to clean those for me.”
moments like these made you question how you’ve dealt with the bastard for a whole month.
“if i don’t, they begin piling up into a jenga tower,” you fire back with a scoff, “similar to the wonderful sorting technique used in your bedroom.”
unbelievably, the boy giggles at that, taking a seat at the counter with his late night snack. “y’know, you’re pretty funny when you’re not locked up in your room all day.” your jaw tightens, snatching the milk away right as your roomate reaches out for it. he looks at you as if you just committed a crime, lips turning into a defeated (but adorable) pout. “hey, i’m trying to have cereal here.”
“sunghoon,” you snarl once more, holding the carton above his head like a parent would with a child’s toy.
“what?” he whines.
“if you don’t start doing shit around here, i’m kicking you out.”
instead of a dramatic gasp or begs for mercy and forgiveness like you’d hoped for, he snickers, pouncing up like a cat and snatching the milk back out of your grip. “yeah, right. as if you could afford this apartment by yourself.”
silence (besides the sound of sunghoon chewing his cinnamon toast crunch).
out of the corner of his eye, sunghoon sees your face drop in utter defeat. you look close to the verge of tears, knuckles turning white by your sides. yes, he may be a jerk sometimes, but he wasn’t that evil. his eyes softened slightly, letting out a thoughtful sigh as he munched on his spoonful of cereal.
suddenly, a lightbulb appears atop his head, smirking brilliantly. “okay, being the handsome genius i am, i’ve come up with an offer — a compromise, you could say.”
you didn’t know your roommate that well considering it’s only been a month since you’ve met, but you were confident that any ideas his pea-sized brain came up with weren’t going to be very good ones in your favor. you offer him a raise of your brow, gesturing for him to continue.
dropping his silver spoon back into the bowl, sunghoon rests his elbows up on the counter. “in exchange for ‘doing shit around here’, you have to be my girlfriend.”
you choke on your saliva, giving him a dumbfounded expression. “what!?”
“hear me out!” he quickly defends, “my parents are planning to set me up with this weird, artsy church girl, and i just can’t allow that to happen for my reputation sake. you’re my only hope, pretty.”
“first of all, you were basically calling me a nerd a few minutes ago, so i don’t see how i’d be any better than her. and what exactly would i have to do as your fake girlfriend— if i metaphorically took you up on this deal?”
sunghoon ignores the first half of your statement with no explanation. “well, probably have dinner with my family every once in a while, hold my hand, kiss me-“
you stumble slightly. “woah, woah- what?! why would we kiss in front of your parents?” you inquire stressfully, the thought of kissing sunghoon making your heart beat much faster than it should.
though honestly, this compromise sounded like a win-win in your book. finally, no more socks found on the couch or plate mountains in your sink, and getting to fake date park sunghoon along the way? you make sure not to give in just yet — you don’t need the guy’s ego skyrocketing any higher than it was — but you were feeling pretty great.
“to prove we’re serious, duh.” sunghoon rolls his eyes at your question, suddenly turning in the barstool to face you. “c’mon, let’s practise now.”
huh? wait, practise what?
does he mean—
you step away from the counter nervously, only to be pulled back by sunghoon’s grip on your wrist. he has a barely noticeable, smug smirk on his face at your sudden nervousness, grasping your hand tightly in his bigger one. “hey, i never said yes to the deal yet,” you gulp.
taking a leap of faith, sunghoon leans further in, his pointy nose touching yours. his breath tickles your lips, and you hate the way his closeness affects you. now you understand why no girl on campus could resist him; it was seemingly impossible.
“why not, baby? are you scared of having to kiss me? is that why you don’t want to say yes?” he teases, reaching his free hand up to softly run a thumb along your plush lips. for some reason, you don’t move away from his surprisingly gentle touch.
“n-no. i’m not scared of you, sunghoon.”
his smirk deepens in pure amusement. “then kiss me,” he encourages, calmly waiting for you to make the first move.
you take one last look at him. his slightly disheveled hair, the moles scattered perfectly along his features even more delicate up close. down to his curved nose, rubbing against the tip of yours affectionately. and lastly, his enchanting pink lips, just begging to be kissed by you.
so you do. before you can stop yourself, you’re kissing park sunghoon. the boy you were just scolding for his constant messes. the boy who was known and loved by your whole college, his reputation lying at the highest amongst everyone’s standards.
but it didn’t matter, in that moment, he was just sunghoon, your lazy, ridiculously hot roommate.
sunghoon finally frees your wrist, allowing you to reach up and rest your arms around his shoulders. to no surprise, he’s definitely the best kiss you’ve ever had, full of experience and confidence. the taste of cinnamon toast crunch runs through your senses, only furthering as he runs a tongue along your bottom lip, begging for entrance.
feeling playful, you refuse, making sunghoon grunt in annoyance. he pulls away for a second to glare at you. “that’s how you wanna be, huh? let me show you who’s in charge around here, then.”
before you can ponder on what that meant, his lips are back on yours more fierce than ever, standing up from his seat to force you right against the counter.
as you try to get comfortable in the new position, he harshly pinches your side. in a moment of surprise at his attack, you gasp, lips parting and giving sunghoon the perfect opportunity to force his tongue right into your mouth and explore every crevice of you.
it’s hard to keep up with sunghoon, he was much too intense for you. so you gently push him away, catching your breath hastily. when you finally look up at him, his lips are swollen, slightly wet and chapped.
it seems he understands that you want to stop here, so he moves back, giving you some space. “i.. i came here to scold you about your socks. how did this happen?” you ask to mostly yourself.
“my charms are irresistible.” sunghoon lets out a laugh, walking backwards towards his bedroom. “so, starting tomorrow you’re my girlfriend, okay pretty girl?”
still trying to calm your racing heart, you offer a small, defeated glance to your roommate. “yeah, whatever, pretty boy.” he smiles brightly at his newly earned nickname, turning around before closing his bedroom door for the night.
with a sigh, you glance back around only to find sunghoon’s half eaten bowl of cinnamon toast crunch, soggy and abandoned on the counter.
this deal wasn’t going to change anything, was it?
if you enjoyed, reblogs n’ comments are always appreciated and motivating!
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© delcakoo on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not rewrite, cross-post, translate, copy, etc.
perm taglist: @duolingofanaccount @strawberry-sunset-skies @scented-morker @koshinene @boowoowho @sultrybaby @yunjinlvrr
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weirdbrothers · 2 months
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Stranger Things Fic Rec
Let me get one thing out of the way: absolutely nobody asked for this. But I love these pairings and stories so much I had to share it with you all. This is heavy on Steve/Billy with some Steve/Eddie sprinkled in.
If you've never read Stranger Things fic, or when you saw this post thought "oh yeah, that 80s kid monster show" I encourage you to give these a try! You don't have to know much about the show besides the bare bones of the plot. (And my ask box is always open for Qs!) If you like angsty teenage boys who are in denial about their feelings and hate their hometown, read on.
Now, on to the porn and depravity!
if i stare too long by @brawlite & @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger | Steve/Eddie/Billy
After the end of the world, Billy Hargrove is a mess. But at least he has company.
Notes: Literally one of my favorite fics of all time, I will never shut up about it. Gay threesomes. Angst. A sweltering midwestern summer. Homoerotic undertones that builds to filthy gay porn. The vibes are all there.
Pressure by Yellow_Blue_Books | Steve/Eddie
"You never did tell me your name," he called at Munson's back. The older man was already in the trees when he turned back around and stated his name, eyes bright and grin wide. Steve never heard it; he couldn't read his lips from so far a distance between them. So instead, he watched Munson walk away; the teen, now wide awake, went to sit on the hood of his car to wait for Hopper to show. On that crisp, cold January night in 1985 - Steve Harrington heard the sound of Eddie Munson's voice for the first and last time. He never even knew his name.
Notes: The only WIP on this rec list, and totally worth the wait. Great characterization. So many little tidbits of information that have me squealing with joy. But also dark and grounded in reality.
chokechain by @brawlite | Steve/Billy (and Tommy is there)
Tommy H. invites Billy to a party at Steve's house. Billy expected hot chicks and booze, but when he shows up, there's only the latter. Steve and Tommy teach Billy that in Hawkins, sometimes you just gotta make do.
Notes: When I think of this fic I literally start sweating its so sexy. The fic that got me hooked on Steve/Billy and gay Steve in general. Its so subtle and gritty and grimy and hot. And Tommy is egging everyone on, yet oblivious, just how I like him.
so good at being in trouble, so bad at being in love by @the-copperkid Steve/Billy
Steve's sophomore year, Billy showed up.
Notes: A fandom classic. The perfect example of Steve/Billy getting together in world, and dealing with their feelings (+ porn, because I'm me and I need porn in all my fic).
We'll Go Down in History by @eternalgoldfish | Billy/Steve
Hawkins High takes a field trip to Baltimore to see historical sites and Steve would rather jump out his hotel window.
Notes: So much teenage angst and tomfoolery in this one! A little more lighthearted than others on the list. Gets to that theme in ST that I love: the idle hands of teenage boys are the devil's playthings.
Dom 4 Hire by @lazybakerart
Steve is naked, on his hands and knees, in the apartment he shares with his high school sweetheart for a man he only just met in person five minutes ago.
Notes: From the second I saw Steve Harrington on screen I knew that boy was a sub dying for someone to call him a good boy. And Billy is just the dom for the job. My only complaint is that I wish this was longer!
Maybe we're something uncool by desert_dino | Steve/Billy
It’s only noon; Billy knows neither of them have work that evening, and their shitty gen-ed biology lab was cancelled. They’ve only been hanging out for an hour, and maybe Billy isn’t quite done fucking around with Harrington yet. Maybe he’ll indulge him.
Notes: Cocky Billy is what the world needs! Great banter and dialogue. Just a snapshot of what I imagine their afternoons would look like, and the teens of Hawkins would be like "why the fuck are they always hanging out?" totally oblivious.
slipping through by sightetsound | Steve/Billy
It was the weed, and the pilfered whiskey from Steve’s daddy dearest they passed back and forth. It was actually how Steve’s eyes caught the moonlight. How his mouth moved when he spoke, and how it curved on a grin Billy would call relaxed when they were alone. Admitting as much felt too much like giving ground, and so it was the weed and whiskey.
Notes: Really bittersweet, heartfelt, and sincere. A different kind of pace for this pairing.
You Get Too Close by @trashcangimmick | Steve/Billy
Steve sits at the back of the bus on the way to a basketball match in Gary. Billy Hargrove sits right across from him.
Notes: Be for real- when we saw that basketball and shower scene we were all hoping it would go in the direction of this fic. Gives me the vibe of an 80s porno in the best way.
Reflecting on the Longest Wavelength by @trashcangimmick | Billy/Hopper
Billy’s heat hits early. Jim Hopper happens to find him before anyone else does. 
Notes: This pairing is a little rouge, I don't see it often and its hard to pin down for me past all the basic tropes. I really like the A/B/O world-building here and find myself returning to it.
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crepesuzette2023 · 1 month
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Hi, lovely Crepesuzette! Thanks a lot of your inspiring blog, your fics and always helpfull #fic recs! And can I ask any recs for good fics where John in the end understend the shit he did for Paul? All of this HDYS, Melody Maker, Rolling Stone etc, which not only hurted Paul but they ruined his self-esteem and creative reputation, you know. Thanks again! Love you and want you be happy everyday like you do it for me :)
Hello there, thank you for the ask—and for your kind words. Very welcome, esp. since real life has been low grade shit these past few days.
So...your ask make me think of stories where things are not only better than they were in this (clears throat) reality as we know it: there's also a focus on mutual understanding, peace-making, forgiveness. Yes?
These came to my mind...and making this list made me realize I'm really in the mood to re-read some of them! In the 70's:
stuck inside these four walls (@monkberries). Lost Weekend. John and Paul get locked up until they resolve their shit.
i can only speak my mind (@revollver). 70's. Paul reads John's 'secret' diaries that have been leaked to the press, and understands him—and himself—better.
forth and back (@monkberries). 70's—80's. Paul and John talk through songs.
A Toot and a Snore (@glowing-gold). Lost Weekend in LA. That jam session is on the page in real time, as is their slow and hot reconciliation. Will never forget the description of moustache-Paul and his nipples, *fans self*
They Say it's Your Birthday (@ohjohnnysblog). 1979. A personal favorite. Warm, nostalgic phone sex in the spirit of peace and friendship.
Down on the Farm (RosalindBeatrice), 1974. John is exposed to Wings, Paul's family, and Paul's hotness, and realizes it's all meant to lure him back...
You Will, You Will, You Will (@eveepe). John and Paul and Linda take the plunge. Excellent tension...over the phone and in person.
February in New Orleans (@eveepe). 1975. John and May visit Paul and Linda in New Orleans. Resentment is desire's favorite costume. Everyone has a good time, 2/4 have a hard-on (I am sorry).
Adventures in Total Honesty (@merseydreams). 1975. Paul and John meet backstage, and have it out. A+ banter, and so many things I wish Paul had said. Also: sex.
The lights go down (they're back in town) (@backbenttulips). 1977. Paul and John are trapped in an elevator at the Dakota. The power goes out. John comes back to live.
Something Borrowed Something New (@inspiteallthedanger). 1979. The former Beatles meet at Pattie & Eric's wedding. Paul and John face some truths.
six hours in august (@stonedlennon). 1979. A chance meeting in NYC. The love is still there.
I Still Miss Someone/ I Know That I Miss you, but I Don't Know Where I Stand/ Close the Door Lightly When You Go (RosalindBeatrice). 1976-1979. Paul and John become lovers, but their lives have changed. John feels guilty about the past, Paul has a family...Mutual empathy is needed, and accordingly grows. But it doesn't come easy.
1980 and Onwards:
The Birthday Party (@merseydreams). John and Paul meet at Ringo's Birthday Party. Paul has had therapy, and John wears denim shorts. There is only one bed.
Free Man in Paris (@backbenttulips). John and Paul get married in Paris in '61, and get a divorce seven years later. But it's not the end.
Memory Lane (@ohjohnnysblog). Old, married John and Paul leaf through a photo album and reminisce about the past, including past lovers.
and when broken bodies are washed ashore (who am i to ask for more) (wardo_wedidit): John and Paul. Now and Then.
Bermuda (@scurator): John and Paul are grown-ups and know what they want (each other, to start with).
Take A Sad Song and Make it Better (@javelinbk). 1980. John visits Paul in 1980, and they revisit the past, including their love. But their families don't magically disappear. Also by @javelinbk: Our Version of Events (Part 1, Part 2 (in progress)). 1971. Reading fan fiction helps John and Paul realize what's happening, and what's been happening in the past.
Going Nowhere (@inspiteallthedanger). 1980; John survives the shooting and returns to England. I think of this one as 'they talk about it' fic.
Comprehensive Fix-Its:
The Contract (JP). The story of John and Paul, with a happier (though bizarre) ending, and a lot of sex (good).
i was a younger man then (now) (post hoc) (@fingersfallingupwards). The story of John and Paul à la The Time Traveller's Wife. It takes them a long time—but in the end they do understand and forgive each other.
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when the clock strikes 12
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☆ EDDIE MUNSON'S MASTERLIST ☆
❣ AGATHA'S MAIN PAGE ❣
Summary : while awaiting for the new year countdown, Eddie had an idea to blow your mind
Word Count : it's for the mini fics section soooo lengthwise? probably solid
Warnings : 18+ (MDNI)SMUT‼️Eddie Munson x FEM!reader, language, slight alcohol consumption, reader and Eddie are both (20), slight somnophilia 🫠, aftercare, no use of y/n, reader is slowly waking up and Eddie asks for permission and if you're still uncomfortable with that please don't continue to read, that's just it really
What to Expect : SMUT and FLUFF, Eddie being a silly goose, set in modern era (of course, there's still a touch of 80's in there), UPSIDE DOWN & VECNA DON'T EXIST IN THIS!
Note To Reader : GIF for this because I'm missed seeing him moving on my fics lmao, also the divider is made by me hehe- I'm literally exposing myself out here, please forgive for my salacious thoughts 🙏🏻 (if you know me in real life? no- you don't 😃)
Author Note : I know I've been long gone for a while but I'm trying my best to post new fics as much as I can! there has been a lot of happenings with my life especially we're having a lot of events like family reunion 🫠 (but it's so much fun tho ngl)
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The preparation for new year's is going so well
So well, that you haven't realized how tired you really are
You're so productive that you've used too much of energy on yourself for working to prepare for the party
You wanted this to be perfect
You want everything to be settled in according to your plan
Eddie knows that you're always so "serious" when it comes to decoration and especially when there's an occasion
He loves you for it though, you just don't throw parties
You throw the greatest parties all the time and you never missed
All of your friends are in there, Steve, Robin, Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle and the freaking kids that you always adored so much
You looked around at everyone in the room
Jeff and Gareth are bantering at each other with some album, Dustin and Lucas fight over which 80's fantasy film is the best, Steve, Robin and Eddie surprisingly getting along with the same pop music artist, you could see the three of them geeking at each other
Max and Jane do makeover at each other which aches your heart of seeing them so close to each other, it's really so sweet to have a real girl bestfriend like that
"I'm gonna refill your glass" Nancy pasts over to you snatching the glass on your hand so swiftly that it makes you snap out of your head
You slowly trying to register what just happened and you smile finally
"More wine? really?" You say as you watch her fill your glass with wine
"Uh, yeah?" she replies with a dramatical jerk to her head as you chuckle
"But it's only 9pm!" you exclaim with wide eyes but a fond smile on your lips
"are you saying that we should only be drinking when the clock finally strikes 12?!?" she says while she fills her cup, she takes glances at you and back to her glass
"Ah- yes, that! exactly!" you point to her using your index finger as you holding your glass of wine
You could already feel yourself getting drowsy a little bit from the wine
Red wine will always make you feel sleepy
You don't even know if it's the alcohol or you just really need to doze off for a minute before you could scream at the top of your lungs for 2024
You don't even know how many glasses that you already take
"Did we just finished the whole bottle?" You feel the world is spinning on you
Nancy, your bestfriend- raises the bottle in front of you as she snorts at your disapproval look
"Kinda?" she says slurring as she smirks at you
"What do you mean? Kinda?!"
"Hey- woah!"
Jonathan passes by and bless him for his instincts because Nancy would've been knocked her head on the counter as she starts stumbling from her stance, he catches her on time
Nancy giggled as you rolled your eyes in annoyance, massaging your forehead
He saw the look from your face as he chuckles
"She got too far again, huh?"
"Yeah, she always does, Jonathan, nothing's new" you reply as you also can't walk properly
"Wait- don't move- should I call-"
Before Jonathan can finish his words, the voice of your boyfriend booms out of nowhere while Argyle tails behind him, looking at you and Nancy
"Sweetheart- how you've-"
Eddie clocked the wine bottle from Nancy hand
"Did you dr-"
"Don't even try it, Ed's" you placed your palm over his mouth as you stumble forward, he immediately wraps his arms around you as you started pressing all of your weight against his chest making the male laugh as he gently hold the back of your head
"Y'all getting drunk already? It's not even 12am yet" Argyle with his iconic tone, you seriously have no idea which one of his voice is normal
You've never heard him talk in normal voice before so you're used to him having that voice that sounds so freaking high as fuck
But, he's a good bud tho, so hilarious
"Blame her, not me! Eddie tell them!" You defend yourself as you put your chin onto his chest as you look at him with a pout on your lips, he smiles as he ruffles his face against yours making your face scrunch up from his action, he laughs again
"What's with all of the commotion?" Steve arrives with hands on his hips
"The two got their selves drunk again" Jonathan points to you and to his girl
"As if that's new" Robin appears in the corner with her arms crossed leaning against the side of the wall
Steve chortles "Wait- you got hustled by Nancy again?"
You groaned from Steve's teasing "yeah, I always fail to see that, thanks" you say
"I told you, you shouldn't brought the wine here, you moron!" Robin uncrosses her arms finally figuring out where the wine misplaced her eyes widen when she saw Nancy holding it, she snatches it making her bite a laugh as Jonathan also connecting the dots at the scene
He pressed his lips together to not burst from laughter
Argyle watches both of his friends having a fit of unnecessary argument
"I think I need to grab a popcorn for this" he leaves abruptly as he looked at your kitchen cabinets and came back munching in a bag of popcorn, very entertained at the scene
"I-I don't know how she got it!"
"Did you hide it properly!?"
"Look- Robs-"
Robin clicks her tongue as she asks "Nancy, how did you get the wine bottle?!"
She turns around with a lopsided smile as Jonathan steadys her
"I just saw it hanging around but-"
"But?"
"I think Steve" she points at him as she chuckles making the boy winces as he finally remembered of what he's done
"Forgotten about it that he left it out there, soooo" she giggles again making Robin grumble as she raises both of her eyebrows at Steve
"Oh- come on!" Steve runs his fingers through his hair as he decides to turn back leaving all of you
"Hey! don't you walk out on me! I paid for that expensive shit-" Robin follows him as she starts pointing everything on him
Argyle, Jonathan, Nancy and Eddie all laughing at the scene while meanwhile you, Eddie could hear you chuckle a bit but you made a little hum
He draws back his attention at you, he looks down at you
"I think I need to doze off for a minute" you say to him with your sleepy eyes
He smiles as he kisses the top of your head he put his arms around you "Yeah, sure"
Eddie says to Jonathan and the rest that you and him will be out for a while, they all nod and said "Don't be late for the countdown"
Your boyfriend leads you to your bedroom as you throw yourself at your bed as he closes the door walking towards you, you lay behind your back as you stretch your whole body, Eddie chuckles at your tipsy behavior
"I love my bed"
"Yeah, you always do"
"Uh huh"
He snickers "Okay, honey, are you well? are you sober?" He leans down at you
"Eddie- you know the alcohol hits harder at Nancy right?"
"I'm just checking you know to see if my girl's alright" he shrugs as he put his hands inside of his pockets
"I'm very much, okay, eds- I'm sssleepy" you yawn as you feel your eyes dropping until it shuts completely
He chuckles as he shakes his head he leans down as he kisses your forehead you smile at the gesture as it makes you even heavier to fall asleep
Eddie watches you sleep as he stands over at the window
The neighborhood outside is quite a watch, everyone is having fun, everyone is having a blast
The music outside is dull but he can hear all of his friends laughter and the screams of excitement from them
He shifts from where he standing as he tears off his eyes from the outside of your window and goes back at you
You turned on the other side, so you're now facing him as you snuggle against your pillow
Eddie smiles to himself, he feels so good having you in his life
He walks towards you as he moves the fallen hair strand on your face
His eyes softens as he sats down beside you
You stirred up from the movement on the bed as you try to open your eyes, you smiled when you realized it's Eddie
You pulled him closer beside you as he lets you take him laying down with you
He put his other arm over you as you cuddled against his chest almost hugging him in the process
You feel more cozier and even more sleepier than before
The moment you move your leg over to his
Your skirt rise up exposing more bare skin to him, his breath hitches at the sight of it
He looks down at you, he double thinked- maybe- it's a bad idea to do this but he wants you so badly right now
He shouldn't even be thinking that you will get mad because hell-
You trust him
So.....
He starts sinking down beside you, you moved slightly as he continues to do his work
He plants hot kisses over your neck when finds your sweet spot- you hum lightly
He's now on top of you, holding your hips, he's positioning you laying on your back, your head is on the side, still sleeping peacefully
He goes over to your chest, you're wearing tube top with a zipper in front, so he has a access to your bare chest, he kisses more and more
Your body couldn't even register what's going on
You felt hot and cold all over because of the midnight's weather and from your body heating up from the tension that your boyfriend is giving you
You feel him going lower and lower but you can still feel your eyes tired
He watches your soft heaves from chest rising up and down, his eyes darkened when he puts his hand inside of your skirt, he slowly reaches at the hem of your panties
He licks his lips, your skin feels on fire because of his fingertips, your stir from your sleep once again but still not opening your eyes
He doves onto your lips, kissing you, and you hummed as you lazily kissed him back
"May I?"
You move your head onto the other side, you catch a glimpse of the clock, it says 11:20pm
"Ed's, we might get late-" even though, you want him to do it
"Please"
You're not even opening your eyes yet but you can see his pleading eyes being directed at you
"Yes, Eddie, you can have me, take it all" you sank down further making Eddie groaned when his fingers touched your center, it's drenched
He hook his fingers on your underwear along with your skirt discarded on the floor
You shudder at the cool air as Eddie positioning himself comfortably
He smears kisses on the inside of your thighs as he goes closer and closer to your core
You moved your head on the other way as you try to close your legs when you can't help but feel the arousal that's coming in
But he places his palms on the sides of your legs spreading you open as you can feel of your insides burning from his touch
His hands are everywhere, when the moment he swiped his fingers at your core, you released lewd noises as your breathing goes quicker
He licked his finger cleaning it off with his tongue, he grins down at you
He holds your hips as he leans down
"Ed-"
Before you can finish your sentence, he doves down lapping at your juices as you gasp from his sudden action
His eyes are glued to you as he continues to do his work, watching your once peaceful slumber turns into pleasure
He devours you so satisfying that it's making you close your legs, he smirks as you can feel his tongue go lower inside, you mewled
He holds you tightly as you grip on the sheets, he sucked more and more of you until your can feel your legs shake
You can feel his hand reaching on the hem of your top, you slightly open your eyes as you find the zipper as you pull it down
He grunts when he saw your breasts that he worships everyday, you loved the way he admires your body
You're now naked so divinely displayed for him
His free hand kneads your boobs as you moaned, he dives back down as he starts to bully your clit
You can feel your body tremble from the sensation forming up in your stomach
You reached for his hair as you pull it making his eyes grow hungrier and eats you like man starved for days
"Oh- Eddie-"
He carries the back your butt as his tongue digs deeper earning a squeal from you when he reaches the spot that you didn't know it existed
Your eyes are heavy-lidded, you try to watch him but you can't when your brain can't place your emotions whether is melatonin or oxytocin
you're not sure at this point but hella you feel so fucking amazing right now
He abruptly stops and when he does, you finally open your eyes
"Wha- what- don't stop!" You whine
"What about the countdown?" His lips are covered with your slick and his saliva altogether not caring a single shit that it's literally dripping down on his chin
You gasp at it as you moaned, he chuckles darkly, you know what he's doing he's teasing you
"Do you know that you're frickin' beautiful without even trying?" He goes at his usual antics as you beg for him to come back down
"Eddie, please!"
"Not until you see stars"
"What-"
Before you can utter another word, he goes back in but this time he places your legs over his shoulders another spectacular angle making you shiver from his touches yet again
He grips your legs, thighs, arms, your belly, he squeezes your boobs and it's literally fucking everywhere
One thing, you know it's for certain that you really would unashamedly come from his simple touches
He pokes his tongue down on you but when he curled it, you chant his name like a prayer, you have the ability to scream his name without being caught in action inside of the room because of the loud noises from the people and the music
Your eyes burn from the threatening tears but Eddie is not having it, he wanted you to fall apart completely for him
You moaning louder and louder when he swipes his tongue on your entrance when he puts your legs down on the bed
"You're still not seeing it, I see"
"D-Don't stop- please"
He opens your legs again as he resume to his mission, he tongue fucks you as he digs in and out, you squirm at it as he starts picking up the pace as you let out a ragged breath
Goddamn, he is killing you right now, you can already die right then and there heavenly
Your mouth falls open without noise coming out of them as you yank his hair, he growls as you couldn't believe that he could reach every spot inside of you
You arched your back as you start grinding against his face, his eyes flashes devilishly mischief as he didn't stop this time
He laps once more until you cry out his name
You jolted when the fireworks exploded booming the entire neighborhood
You come on his tongue as the same time the fireworks started
Your legs are spent, you feel boneless but a sickly smile is now sitting on your lips
He let you get back on earth for a while as he cleans you up, he dresses you up not leaving single skin left behind without his kisses
"You saw it, huh?" He grins like a devil that he is but you love him, he holds the door open for you letting you first outside
You saw all of your friends jumping on to the music and celebrated very happily
"I did" you admit ignoring the rosy tint on your cheeks "and it was much more better"
"Than?" He throws his arms around your shoulders
"The fireworks" you smile as he chuckles as he kisses the top of your head as he squeezes you to his side
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bapple117 · 20 days
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Chapters 7 & 8 of Bluest Monday are live!
A Radiostatic fic set in the 80s ~ AO3 Link! 18+
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No snippet this time, but some teasers of what's on offer!
Car rides! Dates! Banter! Sweetness and love! Sexy phone conversations! MANY references to songs! Fluff! Angst! SMUT - OH THE SMUT - both chapters are VERY explicit so please read with caution! (Minors DNI)
ALSO:
Bluest Monday is now officially book one of two!
Series name: Not a Temporary Love
The second book will be called: Say Hello, Wave Goodbye - and will take place entirely in the present day.
Happy reading! I love you all ❤️💙
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fic rec friday 13
welcome the the tenth fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.
1. i was always yours (even before you knew it) by paladarns
Lance thought Keith was just an asshole. Lance has always thought of Keith as an asshole, all throughout traveling into space in a large mechanical lion, all throughout bonding moments. All throughout becoming closer as teammates and friends.
Even now, with his hands pinned above his head and Keith’s thighs straddling his waist, Lance thinks Keith is an asshole.
Lance had always thought he could see right through people, but now he’s starting to think he has a bad judgement of people.
---------- a fic in which keith is obvious and lance is a bit of a gay nervous wreck
takes place as if season 1 is the only season to exist but its now years later
so many things to love about this fic. so so many. so i am going to list them. a) secret relationship bc i love that shit and eat it up every time, b) ‘takes place as if season 1 is the only season to exist but its now years later’ -- paladarns my love thank you for this truly excellent description of where i write my fics like 80% of the time. c) keith has game, and d)  HE WAS ALWAYS KEITHS EVEN BEFORE HE KNEW IT IM SOBBING BEST TROPE BEST TROPE
2. Wake Up, Sleephyhead! by @transbakugou
Keith has never loved someone like he loves Lance. Lance is his sun, his stars, his happiness. Their hands fit together like they were created to do nothing but hold each other, and he fits perfectly inside of Lance's arms. But he can never let anyone find out how much he loves this boy, how wholly and endlessly. Who knows what the Galra would do with that kind of information?
One morning, the lie comes crashing down around them.
Maybe it won't be as bad as they feared.
i love gay whipped klance and truly every single fic that has ever been written based on a vine is truly amazing, this fic is no exception. also secret relationship lol i am a sucker
3. Something Secret by @kingswriting
It was funny at first. Their arguments became more banter than actual disagreements, yet the entire team continued to assume they were at each other’s throats.
And Lance knows they’re not. He is fully aware that every sharp word, every sly smirk, every heavy handed push, and everything in between is anything but malicious.
But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss the softer side of things.
Or, Lance and Keith are in a secret relationship, but honestly want to omit the 'secret' part.
okay u can always tell what tag im following obsessively at certain times lol. for yall i present yet another secret relationship fic. ahem. this one is cute! banter and flirting and misleading and kisses and GOD its so sweet
4. Things Held Sacred by yarrie
So maybe, just maybe, Pidge was right. Maybe, just maybe, Keith had shot himself in the foot with his first attempt at resolving the blanket-hogging situation, because now Lance seemed to think it was a game and the rules were: steal the blankets, get sex.
To be fair, Keith hadn't exactly been...dissuading him very well.
okay so heres how this works. every fic rec friday so far has been from a specific collection of mine called ‘rereadables’, which was literally started because of this fic. i dont even know what specific part of this fic gets to me so hard, but you know when you read something that makes your stomach go all swoopy? and you can’t stop smiling? thats this fic! i remember i finished it for the first time and then i scrolled right back up to the top and read it again, then again, and again. like i cannot get over this fic. it gives me butterflies every time
5. Communication is key, they say by @ellana17
They already had communication issues before… Or: a malfunction with a healing pod leaves Lance able to speak only Spanish for a few days.
the idea of lance getting stuck in spanish and then almost immediately using that to flirt with keith without him knowing. like. i love that SO much that is quite possibly one of the funniest concepts to exist
that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!
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fountainpenguin · 3 months
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"And honestly, I think you're fine! I mean, you're beautiful... about 84% of the time!" (x)
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New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season
Chapter 21 - “Heat (Martyn, BigB)”
❤️ Read on AO3
💛 Start from Chapter 1
💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics
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A frustrated Martyn is left alone to babysit the Fox Dragon’s eggs. He texts Grian, Scott, Cleo, Mumbo, and Ren, then gets in three fights within an hour.
Meanwhile, BigB checks if Impulse's new farm designs are ethical for the villagers involved and Bdubs walks in on a dynamic that catches him off guard. Huzzah for server hub politics!
(First 1,000 words under the cut)
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InTheLittleWood - Phantom
Status: Bored
Acting captain of New Star Station's phantom hybrid flock
💙  🧡  💚
"Iron… water… charcoal… salt… Ugh." Martyn leans all his weight against the lab table, blowing his lips. "Wow, this would be so much easier if I had an admin panel- none of this back-and-forth rabble. Why don't I ever look these things up when I'm on-server?"
The fox eggs, being eggs, don't respond. Martyn had to peel his eyes from them to focus his attention on the lab table, though he keeps his tail resting on the ground, lightly wrapped around the nearest one. If someone flutters down on the flock roost platform, he'll hear them. And if someone creeps on tiptoes across the landing, the vibration will rattle up his spine. He's a great caretaker. This is going just swell.
And it's not a bad gig, actually, stuck up here on the clock tower... so long as you don't mind the squawking and banter of parrot hybrids in the southern park whose voices carry back all this way. Let them sing you the song of their people; we're all sparky-frustrated up here in Between. Gods, that stupid moon.
Grian: i maen its no surprise if its rough. wild phantom idle ambiance uses live young w/o eggs or nests. the hybrids were the same back in my world Grian: well undead young but ykwim Grian: like its your bat side and not your vulture side is what im saying Grian: or whatever else you are InTheLittleWood: k InTheLittleWood: thanks g Grian: yeah sure InTheLittleWood: wait how do undead hybrid babies work? Grian: ? were you born alive? InTheLittleWood: ?? I thought I was? I was adopted as an egg tho, I didn't hatch in Linda's nest. Never thought to ask "Hey Mum and Dad, was I born alive?"
He pats the nearby eggs as Grian starts to type. Should he put his crocs back on? Is it rude to put your smelly feet up on a spawn egg? They can't sense that, right? Nah… They're not even born yet. The very beginnings of a soul might be in there (Maybe? He's not sure how it works), but they only hatch once an account links up to them. This clutch only has a few dozen eggs.
Martyn rests his hands on his stomach, counting down the ticking seconds. Thousands and thousands of eggs hatch every day, more or less in the order they were laid by one of the 98 dragons across Between. Sometimes siblings and camera twins are born the same species. Sometimes another dragon dropped a few of her own in a nest at the same time, so there's a split.
On rare occasion, two souls bundle in a single egg- That's where you get identical twins like Grian and Two. How much longer before these foxes start spawning? It can't be long now.
Gods, imagine if every single one hatches two souls… That'll be at least 60, 70, 80 fox hybrids scampering around up here. I should probably take them down to ground level. The base of the tower is a big empty room, offering nothing but the stairs and the doorway out.
Grian: i think mumbo said the phantom dragon carries the eggs in her throat pouch Grian: its what the alligator dragon does and she lives in the swamp near mumbo's spawner with joels mom InTheLittleWood: Suddenly I think I owe my parents some cards and gifts. I knew adopting phantoms was rare but I didnt realize grabbing an egg probably means crawling inside Linda's mouth and escaping before she bites you, geez 😳 InTheLittleWood: unless they just got my egg right after it was laid Grian: when the spawnlings hatch they eat the souls shes been carrying in there Grian: lol Grian: i mean mumbo got paid the big $ to do egg stealing runs, its why he had the last allay aggs Grian: eggs
Martyn lifts his brows, staring at his comm screen. If you measure by years instead of levels, he's older than Mumbo. Mumbo definitely didn't grab his egg, but how weird would that be? You marry the man who kidnapped you as a baby… That's just weird.
Granted, he does hail from a well-off family. The term "well-off" is ambiguous when you're off-server, but the gist is that his parents actually do have diamonds whereas most of Between's natural resources have been picked over out in the wild.
Growing up, he always just assumed his parents ended up with a phantom egg because that's what they bid for when the adventurers - usually, but not always wandering traders - went out on adoption runs to the dragon nests. His mum's an otter hybrid and his dad's a raven: a rare predator and a rare scavenger most people don't even know are native in the game.
Otter code was prepped for Minecraft Dungeons, but never made it beyond early concepts. Nonetheless, they exist. They're called a Tweenborn mob- something meant to exist, but never truly crossed into one of the main dimensions. Ravens actually did make it into the Dungeons spin-off, but only went public as cosmetic pets. You don't fight them, but they hang around anyway.
Most people thought his parents were modded and would do a double-take if they ever mentioned the Otter Dragon or Raven Dragon, who rarely get the mental pings to build nests and lay eggs. Growing up, they used to introduce Martyn as "their phantom kid" and urge him to show the wings and his baby fangs.
Was I a trophy kid? he wonders now. He wouldn't put it past them. Love his parents he may, but they did chase a lot of status symbols. Being rich enough to afford what must've been a wizard-level egg retrieval - potentially from the depths of Linda's gular pouch - may have been too good to resist.
Martyn stares a little more, rubbing his thumb across the edge of his communicator. I haven't seen my parents since before my EVO days. Maybe he should go. He can fly fast and be back in a snap. Would Scott allow that?
I guess it doesn't hurt to ask.
[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]
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Week 2 Masterlist
Week two is complete! Another week of incredible submissions from some great authors!
Please check below for the full masterlist of week two. Check the tags and don't forget to support writers and artists by reblogging their work!
DAY 8 - IDIOTS TO LOVERS
The Honeymoon by @katyawriteswhump | Rated T | cw: mild violence | tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, 80s insults
first and second and third kisses by steddieas-shegoes | Rated T | no cw | tags: idiots to lovers, frustrating levels of obliviousness, first kiss gone horribly wrong followed by second first kiss gone perfect
A promise kept by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation with art by @house-of-the-moving-image | Rated G | no cw | tags: childhood friends to lovers, mistaken identity, fluff, modern au
Take Me Home, Country Roads by @thisapplepielife | Rated E | cw: explicit sexual content, 18+ | tags: canon divergence post-season 4, eddie munson lives, road trip, established relationship, motel room, mutual masturbation, hand jobs, dual pov, eddie munson is bored
all those firsts by @lingeringmirth | Rated T | no cw | tags: fluff, getting together, kissing, bisexual steve harrington
Anything but a normal friendship by @atimeofyourlife | Rated M | no cw | tags: friends with benefits, getting together
under the mistletoe by @cranberrymoons | Rated M | cw: mild outdated language about bisexuality | tags: getting together, making out
Dead Give Away, Innit? by @redlegumes | Rated G | no cw | tags: wayne pov, first kiss, oblivious
DAY 9 - NO UPSIDE DOWN AU
idle thoughts by @lingeringmirth | Rated G | no cw | tags: fluff, established relationship
you're not jonathan by steddieas-shegoes | Rated T | cw: recreational drug use, language | tags: meet-ugly turned meet-cute, flirting, somewhat ambiguous ending
Ready to roll by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation with art by @house-of-the-moving-image | Rated T | cw: mention of masturbation | tags: future fic, flirting, record label owner!eddie, waiter!steve, steve in rollerblades
Paint It, Black by @thisapplepielife | Rated M | cw: referenced drug use | tags: AU, corroded coffin, established relationship, eddie & gareth are best friends, motel room, road manager steve harrington has had enough, it's like herding cats
i'll be home for christmas by @cranberrymoons | Rated T | no cw | tags: flirting, bartender eddie, college student steve
A group thing? by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | no cw | tags: no upside down au, pre-steddie, steve x corroded coffin
Matching Scars art by @redlegumes
DAY TEN - FIRST KISS / FIRST TIME
i'll never forget you again by @lingeringmirth | Rated G | no cw | tags: hurt/comfort, angst, first kiss
Untitled by @runninriot | Rated T | cw: underage drinking | tags: robin & steve & eddie are friends, confessions, coming out
a hole is a hole by steddieas-shegoes | Rated E | cw: awkward sex, unprotected sex | tags: laughter during sex, anal fingering, anal sex, virgin eddie, bottom steve, top eddie
Art by @house-of-the-moving-image
Morning after by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated E | cw: alcohol, dirty talk, sexually explicit language, nudity, one slight mention of bdsm | tags: established relationship, referenced tongue fucking, service mouth steve harrington, adhd disaster eddie munson, idiots in love
Once More, With Feeling by @thisapplepielife | Rated E | cw: explicit sex, 18+ | tags: established relationship, eddie pov, first time sex, anal sex, bottom steve, top eddie, bantering, love
for the first time by @cranberrymoons | Rated E | no cw
My first kiss went a little like this by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | no cw | tags: first kiss, getting together, past Stommy
The Munson Jinx by @klausinamarink | Rated T | cw: Eddie's near death experience, blood, mention of anxiety attack | tags: hurt/comfort, happy ending, getting together
you touch my body by @ahsokatanoss | Rated E | no cw | tags: implied modern au, established relationship, female steve harrington, female eddie munson, wlw steddie, eating out, thigh worship, steve harrington has an oral fixation, hair pulling, first time sex, porn with feelings
Never Forgot My First Kiss by @redlegumes | Rated M | cw: trans invidual and partner discuss younger self with created dead name | tags: ftm eddie munson, 7 minutes in heaven, pre series first kiss, post series smut and cuddles, pillow talk
DAY ELEVEN - ROYALTY AU
the jester wears the crown by steddieas-shegoes | Rated E | cw: semi-public sex | tags: king steve, court jester eddie, established relationship, blowjobs
Eddie Munson's royal fuck-up by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated G | no cw | tags: rockstar eddie munson, royal steve harrington, meet-cute, flirting, secret identity, sort of angsty/open ending
A royal escape by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | no cw | tags: transmasc steve harrington, royal steve harrington, royalty au
breaking away by @lingeringmirth | Rated G | no cw | tags: meet-cute, prince steve, bard eddie, first kiss, steve had bad parents
Art by @yellowsweater-bluevest
When In Vegas by @thisapplepielife | Rated T | cw: drinking, gambling | tags: au, meet-cute, platonic stobin, what happens in vegas
his royal highness by @cranberrymoons | Rated T | no cw
Dirty Little Secret by @katyawriteswhump | Rated T | cw: corporal punishment, bullying, cultural prejudices, swearing | tags: hurt/comfort, whump, fluff
Dealing with Demodogs by @steviesummer | Rated G | no cw | tags: pre-steddie
DAY 12 - ONLY ONE BED
Untitled by @runninriot | Rated T | no cw | tags: sleepover, finding comfort, coming to conclusions, soft boys cuddling, open ending
see where the night goes by steddieas-shegoes | Rated M | cw: borderline somnophilia-esque behavior | tags: forced proximity, unintentional cuddling, idiots to lovers, love confessions, implied sexual content
Late night surprise by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation with art by @house-of-the-moving-image | Rated G | cw: aftermath of trauma | tags: fluff, humor, post vecna, established relationship, platonic stobin supremacy, there may be several beds, but only one of them has steve in it
out of fear of holding him back by @lingeringmirth | Rated T | no cw | tags: getting together, angst and fluff, kissing, steve doesn't think he deserves nice things, bi steve harrington
Sleeping with Spiders by @thisapplepielife | Rated T | cw: language | tags: college au, meet cute, only one bed, first kiss
let it snow by @cranberrymoons | Rated T | no cw | tags: snowed in, pining, first kiss
Sharing a night in a shitty apartment by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | no cw | tags: pre-steddie
Sleep After You're Fixed Up by @klausinamarink | Rated T | cw: steve's post-russian torture, blood, injury cleaning | tags: pre-s4 steddie, hurt/comfort, home-done medical treatment, the boys getting some rest and being vulnerable together
DAY 13 - ROAD TRIP / VACATION
where the skies are blue blue by @lingeringmirth | Rated T | no cw | tags: fluff, kissing, angst, getting together, trauma bonding, post-vecna, eddie munson lives
i love you enough by steddieas-shegoes | Rated M | cw: nightmare, implied sexual content | tags: friends to lovers, getting together, love confessions, first kiss
Something to see by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated G | no cw | tags: modern au, established relationship, honeymoon, Steve is Dustin's dad
A Hazy Shade of Winter by @thisapplepielife | Rated M | cw: internalized homophobia, sexual content | internalized homophobia, sexual content | tags: canon divergence post-season 4, eddie munson lives, road trip, established relationship, hurt/comfort, boys in love, dual pov
lost luggage by @cranberrymoons | Rated T | no cw | tags: married life, bickering, fluff
A trip to remember by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | no cw | tags: pre-steddie
DAY 14 - ANGST WITH A HAPPY ENDING
hate to remember you like this by steddieas-shegoes | Rated M | cw: mention of car accident, medical emergency, temporary amnesia | tags: post-break up, assumed unrequited feelings, getting back together
Eddie Munson's second chance by just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated G | cw: referenced child neglect/abuse | tags: modern au, royal au, royal steve harrington, rockstar eddie munson
let's be fools, then, and pretend the world didn't end by @lingeringmirth | Rated T | cw: suicidal ideation, self-sacrificing tendencies, major character death (he's coming back) | tags: vampire!eddie, hurt steve harrington, grief, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with ambuguously hopeful ending
3AM by @thisapplepielife | Rated T | no cw | tags: post-s4, self sabotage, post break-up, hurt/comfort, making up, eddie pov
Learn to forget your biases by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | no cw | tags: hurt/comfort, eddie munson being an asshole, hurt steve harrington, angst, hopeful ending
may your days be merry by @cranberrymoons | Rated T | no cw | tags: post-s2, steve has head trauma, eddie sells drugs
Easy Promises by @klausinamarink | Rated T | cw: cancer, mentioned childhood abuse | tags: pre-relationship, steve has good parents, childhood friends, reunion, theodore is eddie's full name agenda
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2toplibrary · 2 months
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Hello! I was thinking of trying my hand at writing todobaku and I figured I’d ask for any advice you have on the subject!
I want to make something I can be proud of and know could happen in canon. Have a great day!
I suggest to go back always to the source material to make sure that you get the character voices and dynamics feel faithful to canon.
I think a lot of people do base their character "voices" on reading a lot of fanfic and end up with a pretty distorted view of the characters' relationships, ways of emoting and generally their tone.
I also feel like in the past years, this ship has taken on a certain entrenched dynamic and tropes that have become kind of stale. If you read older TDBK/BKTD fics, the dynamic had more of a chaotic, equal energy, with good banter, fights, etc.
Lately, 80% of fics I see have the "Bakugou calls Todoroki princess" tag that comes with a certain vibe too, usually. It feels almost as if fanfic authors are afraid that if they are not using this fanon trope, their fics won't be read. I personally feel though that it's not something that needs to be forced into every fic, and I'm always happy to see someone come and bring a fresh take.
So the best advice I can give you, is to go back to the scenes that made you like TDBK, and try to capture the energy or vibe that made this pairing appealing to you. Don't try to imitate popular ships - but just go with the flow that feels natural to you.
I think for Shoto, the trick is to keep in mind his design - everything always have two sides. For every "soft" Shouto, there is always a feral one. He's dumb, but also very wise. He's kind, but can be incredibly petty. Trying to balance his different qualities is what makes his writing good.
For Katsuki, you always need to be aware which part of his "growth curve" he's on. 1-year Katsuki is drastically different from 3rd year Katsuki, and will be again different from adult Katsuki. He matures, but I imagine he keeps a part of his tsundere, bombastic personality. The edges don't go away fully, but they change. I think Katsuki at any age will use a lot of F-words, but post-PLF war Katsuki won't call his classmates "extras" anymore. These are the type of things I'd keep in mind writing him.
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ekingston · 2 years
Note
You would write, perhaps… a fic in which Lena stays at Kara’s [insert very lovely locale description] Airbnb as the first stop on her I’m-Finally-Free-of-the-Luthors escape slash vacation. The air conditioner breaks and Kara comes to service things. [Insert witty banter that snaps back and forth and cheekily pretends to disguise the brimming tension].
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(also on ao3.)
Italy sucks.
Lena is barely a week into her ‘free at last’ victory tour and here she is, sweat-drenched and stranded in an Airbnb that looks far more on the decrepit side of charming than the pictures on the website had made it seem. The vespa she’s rented to make her trips to the grocery store a little easier has proven impossible to maneuver up the steep road into town, the weather isn’t at all what she had been promised it would be, and now, at the infernal hour of 3pm, when even the bumblebees in the garden are napping and the quiet seaside town up the road has gone entirely still, her cottage’s air conditioning unit has decided to follow suit, releasing one final death rattle before giving up the ghost.
Lena strips down to her underwear, lies down on the terracotta tile in the kitchen and debates the merits of doing the same.
Her stubbornness wins out, in the end. Refusing to give her family the satisfaction of knowing their derelict daughter crumpled at the first hint of hardship, Lena brushes off her sophomore-year Italian and calls a repair service. There’s a knock on the door not an hour later, and she leaps from the bathtub filled with cold water she’s been soaking in to answer it, gasping at the promise of breathable air.
It’s only after she’s opened the door that she realizes the t-shirt she’s thrown on leaves little to the imagination, the water droplets clinging to her skin turning the fabric almost translucent. Now it’s true that modesty is an inconsequential thing in the face of 110 degree heat and 80% humidity, and Lena shouldn’t even care, considering she’ll likely never see this guy ever again—
but.
Lena hadn’t counted on the handyman being a woman, and an uncomfortably hot one at that.
They’ve sent her an amazon, Lena thinks, tall and broad and impossibly blonde. She’s dressed like a character from a gay porno movie, tight denim shorts and a clean racerback tank leaving an unnecessary amount of glistening skin on display, and she posesses a sort of lopsided, angular energy that reads significantly north of feminine. Even through her heat-addled haze, Lena can feel it beckoning to her.
“Signora Lena, giusto?” the woman confirms, dragging widening eyes over Lena’s figure before extending her hand. “Kara.” When her warm, callused fingers brush against Lena’s own, she feels at once far too exposed and also like the little clothing she is wearing is a blasphemy of some kind. 
She also finds she has lost the last bit of Italian she’s managed to retain. “Sì, sì,” she stutters urgently. “Entrami, prego.” Come on in.
The handyman — Kara — freezes abruptly in the doorway at Lena’s invitation, coincidentally crowding Lena where she’s backed into the brick wall to allow Kara to pass. Her gaze flashes up from Lena’s body to meet her eyes with sudden intensity. There’s an attractive pink tinge to her cheeks that Lena doesn’t think was there before. 
Lena doesn’t understand what’s happening. Kara’s close proximity combined with the infernal heat of the cottage already has her sweating again. Shouldn’t even a demigod understand the meaning of an emergency? Why is Kara staring at her like Lena is three scoops of gelato and Kara is trying to decide which flavor she wants to try first?
And then — oh. Oh no. Oh, fuck me, Lena thinks — which hilariously, mortifyingly, is exactly what she realizes she’s just told Kara to do. 
“Entrare,” she corrects, panicking, practically yelling it into the poor woman’s face. 
To her credit, Kara looks amused rather than offended, a bright, generous smile blossoming on her face. She blows at a golden lock of hair that’s fallen over her forehead, rolling her eyes in an exaggerated (and, apparently, international) gesture of relief. It’s so disarming it makes Lena want to prove that she’s capable of behaving like a normal human person.
“Mi scusi,” she apologizes, now fighting to survive the burn of embarrassment on top of the scorching hotness of the woman across from her and the sweltering temperature inside the cottage. And then, in an effort to blame the broken air conditioning unit for their misunderstanding, “Io sono molto, molto caldo.” 
A bright bark of laughter startles Lena out of her self-reproach and straight into righteous indignation. When Kara glances at her and realizes Lena isn’t entertained, she makes an effort to compose herself. “I’m sorry,” she snorts, her English lacking even a hint of an accent. “It’s just that— I agree. You are very, very hot.”
The words hit Lena like a bucket of ice water. “You’re an American?” she yelps.
“In my defense,” Kara says, holding up a placating hand, “I didn’t realize you were, too.” She manages to somehow appear both serious and casual when she follows it with a smooth, “and while we’re being honest, I would have taken you up in a heartbeat, if you’d been serious.”
Just like that, Lena is caught again, pinned under the weight of Kara’s cocksure smile. “Right,” she croaks, swallowing around the desert in her throat, watching as Kara wets her lips in a move that seems more compulsive than deliberate. It’s devastating nonetheless, the quick pink flash of Kara’s tongue kindling a quickly spreading blaze in the only place left on Lena’s body that has so far remained mostly unaffected by the heatwave. 
“Through the kitchen, right?” Kara winks at her, much too smug and far too attractive. She finds her way easily, kneeling down in the basil patch off the back porch — fragrant and vibrant in the midafternoon sun — where she patiently coaxes the ailing apparatus back to life. The unit looks like something out of the nineteen fifties, threatening to fall apart at the first touch of Kara’s hand.
Lena can relate. 
Looking for something to occupy herself with, she decides to make fresh lemonade. That’s something people do on hot days like these when dying isn’t an option, right? It can’t be that difficult. The lemons growing in the garden are firm and glossy and exquisitely tart. Lena can feel her mouth watering just thinking about them, looking through the kitchen window where Kara is grunting and twisting and grinding away, the pearls of sweat on her back gleaming in the late afternoon sun. 
If Lena makes a point of not changing out of her t-shirt and into something a little more appropriate for company, feeling the bottom hem tickling the tops of her thighs as she plucks the fruit from the branches, well — that’s her business. 
And if Kara chooses to make it her own, so be it.
“This is by far the worst lemonade I’ve ever tasted,” Kara tells her, affectionately, after she washes her hands and accepts her drink, standing just a little too close to where Lena’s perched on the kitchen counter. “And I ran a wildly unsuccessful lemonade stand the summer between first and second grade.” She’s all shoulders and smiles, unfairly handsome and too large somehow for the tiny little space Lena’s only just begun to carve out for herself.
Lena thinks she’d like a chance to make her fit.
She barely opens her eyes, busy basking in the once again functional air conditioning’s blissful breeze, but she does trace a very deliberate finger over the freckled forearm Kara has propped against the counter next to where Lena is sitting. “Not sweet enough for you?” she goads.
Kara hooks a thumb under the hem of Lena’s t-shirt, running the knuckle against the bare skin of her hip. She says, “I can think of something sweeter.”
Their mouths are pressed together on the next breath, Lena tugging Kara in by her preposterous hair, Kara sliding an arm around Lena’s waist to slide her in closer as she steps between her legs. Lena can taste the tartness of the lemonade on Kara’s tongue when she licks into her mouth. It forms a delectable contrast to the sweetness of her kiss, the lush richness of her lips.
Lena only manages to remove herself from Kara’s pull with tremendous effort. She knows she’s on the cusp of doing something very stupid, with the way Kara is dragging her thumbs up the inside of Lena’s thighs, but she’s beginning to feel a little more level-headed now that the heat isn’t broiling her brain, and allowing a stranger to ravish her in someone else’s kitchen wasn’t exactly on the agenda today. 
It’s only the sixth, maybe seventh item on her bucket list. 
So Kara leaves, but not without giving Lena her number, and an offer to help her with any other maintenance emergencies that might arise. 
It’s funny how that emergency comes just a day later, well after dinner, when Lena watches as one of her diamond earrings disappears down the drain of her bathroom sink.
“I heard you needed a hand,” Kara grins when Lena opens the door. 
Lena crosses her arms in retaliation, well aware of the way the position emphasizes the outline of her chest underneath her lace-trimmed robe. When she sees Kara’s eyes dip down, she smiles, vindicated. She leads her up the stairs and through her bedroom, and Kara has the audacity to look surprised when Lena shows her into the small bathroom beyond.
“I think I saw this in a movie, once,” Kara reflects, her voice clearly amused from where she’s crouched under the sink, loosening the pipe trap with a wrench. Lena has parked her hip against the counter beside her, studying the movement of muscle under the skin of Kara’s shoulders. “And here I was hoping the earring was a lie,” Kara says when she straightens, looking a little flustered as she deposits a freshly rinsed diamond stud into Lena’s waiting hand. 
Lena steps up closer, tracing a finger over Kara’s collarbone, feeling her exhale against her lips. Says, “I dropped it down the drain on purpose.” 
They barely make it to the bed. Kara knows her way around a woman’s body as well as she seems to know her trade, taking Lena apart with the same dexterity she’d employed repairing the clunky relic in the backyard. Lena draws Kara into her body the way she draws in oxygen when she runs — urgent, demanding — using teeth and fingernails until Kara hits a perfect, almost frenzied rhythm. 
Kara stays for breakfast, driving the vespa into town. Lena hitches a ride on the back.
So, okay — maybe Italy isn’t all bad.
(do yourself a favor and watch this scene)
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rmd-writes · 6 months
Text
20 questions for fic writers!
tagged by @jesuisici33 💖
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
80 (this blows my mind)
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
539,880 but this is skewed by several collaborations. The total words that are exclusively mine is probably closer to 400-450k
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Red, White & Royal Blue, 911 Lone Star, Schitt's Creek (barely, but I'm not letting them go)
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
all RWRB fics:
titles are the worst, we refuse (collab with @athousandrooms @clottedcreamfudge @indomitable-love @everwitch-magiks)
Everybody needs good neighbours
yours for the afternoon
to the victor, the spoils
Hook(up), line & sinker (collab with @athousandrooms, @clottedcreamfudge, @indomitable-love, @the-amber-fox)
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Yes! I love comments so much and appreciate readers who take the time to leave them, so I like to acknowledge that. Also, I've made several friends as a result of leaving comments or vice versa 💖💖
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
No angsty endings in this house
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
All of my fics have a happy ending (usually literally as well 😉)
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Occasionally
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA (yes, mostly smut with so many feelings)
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
I haven't ever written a crossover!
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not as far as I'm aware
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
I have (I think). I don't remember which one though
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Several and it's so much fun! I love writing with my friends
14. What’s your all time favorite ship?
Nope, you can't make me choose between my three otps (David/Patrick, Alex/Henry, Carlos/TK)
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
My Schitt's Creek paint and sip au
16. What are your writing strengths?
completely gratuitous outfit descriptions, banter, people seem to like when I write smut with feelings
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Definitely world building, I'm not good at that
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I've included Spanish dialogue in both RWRB fic and Tarlos fic before with the generous assistance of some Spanish speaking friends. I think it can definitely work if the context is right.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Schitt's Creek
20. Favorite fic you’ve written?
To the surprise of no one, my RWRB lawyer au (start with to the victor, the spoils, which I've linked up there ^^)
tagging @welcometololaland @three-drink-amy @cha-melodius @strandnreyes @stereopticons @rosedavid @carlos-in-glasses @clottedcreamfudge @dumbpeachjuice @orchidscript @maxbegone @liminalmemories21 @lilythesilly
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