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#NO BC WHY ARE THEY STANDING LIKE THAT.........
t3ag3rs · 17 hours
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♡ younger! s/o x bakugou headcannons !
YALL DONT THINK OF THIS IN A P3DO SENSE, I MEAN IT IN A WHOLESOME WAY. PLS DONT ATTACK ME. fair warning: this is HEAVILY unedited...
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you first meet each other when your mom invites his family over for lunch due to her and his mom working together. (yes this is gonna be a moms friends son trope bc thats whats happening to me 😈).
you walk down to greet the family- completely expecting to see the ugliest boy youve seen in your life. only to find out hes a ua student, built, and ofc... super fucking hot...
bakugou just stares at you blankly as you walk up and say hello to his parents and him.
recognizing his mom, you give her a hug with a big smile as she does the same.
"y/n! meet my son katsuki! hes a year older than you, but you two should get along just fine!" introduces mitsuki happily.
all you manage is a nod in response as you meet his gaze again. "um... nice to meet you bakugou.." you say smiling slightly. "just call me katsuki..." he responds gruffly as he stuffs his hands further into his pockets.
"y/n.. why dont you take katsuki upstairs and let him play on my ps5?" says your dad jokingly as he nudges your shoulder. you roll your eyes with a grin before motioning him to follow you back upstairs.
as you turn on the ps5 you hand him the controller, "we only have cod right now..." you say apologetically. "so, i heard you go to ua right...?" you ask questioningly as you sit on the other side of the couch facing him.
"yeah im in the hero program" he responds focusing on the game playing in front of him. you nod you head thoughtfully at his response "what year are you in katsuki..?"
"im in my final year, what about you...?" he says finally glancing back at you with his carmine eyes. "uh... im in 3rd year" you say fumbling over your words slightly.
"damn your young.." he chuckles as he shakes his head slightly, "hey at least im not about to go to college.." you retort with a small smirk.
bakugou cant help but grin at your response, "you calling me old shorty?" he asks with a slight smirk.
you internally melt at the sight but remain composed, "hey, im just being realistic here.." you respond as you raise your hands up.
"realistic my ass.." he mutters quickly turning back to the game, "what ass are you talking about katsuki?" you ask with a laugh.
suddenly, you hear the sound of laughter and turn to see his head thrown back as he struggles to keep himself composed, "you- you should not being saying stuff like that shorty..." he says in between chuckles.
throughout the rest of the time you and bakugou start talking more and more, almost as if you two were old friends reconnecting. heck, even his parents were surprised to see him actually talking to you like a normal person.
just before they leave you stand by the door quickly responding to a friends message. "shorty.." he calls, making you look up to see him handing you his phone. "lets stay in touch so i can keep an eye on ur bratty ass.." bakugou buffs blushing slightly.
you widen your eyes but quickly agree as you type in your number. "ill text you soon shortcakes.." he grins before ruffling your hair and walking out right beside his parents.
All you can do is stand there rooted in your spot, with flushed cheeks, grinning like a delusional idiot
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another casino thingy with john price, bc why not?
cw: nsfw. masturbation, fingering, implicit exhibitionist price?, f!reader. idk shit about poker. part one | part two
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you go to the casino again. not to gamble though.
at first, you were reluctant on showing up. it was nice of John to give you money for your services that night, and you couldn't deny the instant attraction lingering on your brain, but you didn't want to feel like a token, a four-leaved clover he picked out of the grass. also, you were convinced that your luck was a one-time thing, so why bother trying again? he surely found another charm to put in his pocket by now. 
however, those thoughts vanished from your mind when you heard a sharp knock on your door. 
you look through the peephole and immediately recognize the person standing in your hallway – mohawk guy. how did he...? your first instinct is to ignore him, but curiosity wins the fight against logic and you open the door.
"hello, bonnie." he smiles, "Price's waiting for ye," he blurts out before you can even ask anything. he's waiting?
for a minute, you don't think. your body moves on auto-pilot, scouring your closet for a decent outfit and smoothing down your hair to look at least presentable, as a stranger – Johnny, you learned – paces in your living room. 
the next thing you know, you're in the passenger seat of his car, one hand resting on your leg and thumb edging the hem of your skirt, driving downtown. you couldn't help but shudder at the tingling sensation of his fingers on your skin, and he just snorts at your reaction, amused. are they all this touchy?
thankfully for you, Johnny is a talker, so you don't have to do much work to pass the time. he tells you that John is actually the owner of the casino and that every friday night he hosts a poker game with some of his friends. that he and the boys – Simon and Kyle – help Price with the management and with making sure no one creates trouble, and that John hasn't stopped talking about you.
your eyes widen after his last words, earning a chuckle out of the scot and nearly making you forget the question that first popped into your head when you saw him at your door – how in the hell did he know where i live? but at this point, you're not sure you care. 
the light squeeze on your thigh alerts you that you've arrived, hopping out of the car and walking inside. the place is as packed as ever, but he leads you directly to the back, the same door as before. 
"there she is." John grins, already tapping his lap for you to sit, "now we can start." this time, you don't hesitate, happily obliging to his request even when a part of you cringes at your eagerness. you accept the glass of bourbon, neat, that Kyle hands you, and despite being too strong for your liking, you don't bother. probably tastes like John.
the first few rounds were tame, with low bets, but soon enough you see the flying 5000 chips landing on the table and hear the laughs getting louder, as he traces circles on your hip. you don't know if it's the alcohol coursing in your veins, the softness of his touch, or his hot breath on your ear, but warmth starts pooling in your stomach and your legs clump together to ease the tension.
John notices your squirms and devilishly smirks, enjoying your desperate attempts to forgo the desire building in you. "here, kiss it for good luck, Ace." Ace? his left-hand holds a chip up, as the right one sneaks between your thighs and pry them apart again, making you gasp. 
you timidly lean forward to press a quick kiss on the chip and instantly feel the heat creeping up your cheeks when his hand reaches your underwear. "you're so wet, Ace," he whispers, pulling your damp pants to the side. god, what is he... oh.
you try your best to be calm, not let the sensation of his fingers grazing your folds cloud your mind, but it's too much. your head tips back onto his shoulder, and any word that threatens to come out of your mouth and stop him gets caught in your throat. there's people around. everyone can see how much of a mess you are. and they... don't care?
his thumb gently rubs your clit as his middle finger toy with your entrance in an agonizingly slow manner, soft sighs escaping your mouth and eyes embarrassingly glossy focusing on the table. the game is still going, there's at least eight other men in this room, counting the players and the boys, fuck i'm– you bite back moans, gripping his forearm to keep him in place and to stop yourself from writhing in his lap. 
"easy, love," he murmurs, finally pumping his digit inside you, "such a greedy cunt." his tone is low, syrupy, dripping like honey over you and nearly making you cum at the sound of his voice. you nuzzle your face on his neck, muffling your whimpers and drowning in the scent of his cologne. "what's keepin' me from throwin' you on top of this table and takin' you right now, hm?"
"John–" you breathe out, coil on your belly tightening when he inserts another finger, hitting the spongy spot you were never quite able to reach, making you mewl with pleasure. his beard brushes on your neck and his warm lips trace your jaw, leaving an underlying burning on your skin that drops straight to your core. 
through half-lidded eyes you see the dealer finishing distributing the cards and the subtle twitch in John's mouth when he glances at his hand. your mind is too far gone by the point when they place the bets, too lost in the feeling of his frantic thrusts, velvety walls instinctively clenching around him to enhance the bliss.
the knot inside of you snaps and you cry out, limbs trembling in his hold and pure electricity travelling under your surface; it's intense, ripples through your core, heavenly overstimulating every corner of your body and sending your mind to outer space. 
you float back to earth and taste the metallic flavor in your mouth, bottom lip sore from biting too hard to prevent your screams. John nudges you back to reality with a kiss on your temple, "such a good girl, love." he flaunts his cards in front of your eyes, and after a few attempts to refocus your vision, he gloats, wide smile and lustful eyes directed only at you, "just won me thirty grand, Ace."
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i'd love to write more of this casino universe but i'm very much lacking in the ideas department lol
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ollyolyoxenfree · 1 day
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who up horsin they minecrafters
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moeblob · 2 days
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You know, when I kept getting asked "so you didn't ever have severe pains before now?" in the hospital and I kept replying "I have a high pain tolerance" I meant it. However, there is only so much pain my tiny 4'9" body can hold... (aka I am sweating and in agony bc I'm getting told to use LESS severe pain meds so I don't rely on them too much and it is AWFUL)
#moe talks a lot#i was shaking earlier and despite the fact i sound like im gonna cry#and the fact that my mom can pick out im about to cry from pain bc im trying to take less pain meds#LIKE MY MOM IS INSTRUCTING ME TO DO#shes like well why arent you taking any pain meds#BECAUSE THERE ARE TWO AVAILABLE OPTIONS AND ON A SIX HOUR TIMER#i cant take both at once or else what happens to me if i hurt before the six hours is up#i have to manage them in a way that allows me to benefit from both and being told im doing it wrong#after being told well its your fault it got so bad because you never complained about pain before#YEAH NO JOKE? REALLY? I NEVER DID? because everyone acts like im too young to feel that kinda pain#oh youre hurting? just wait until youre older#and its currently agony to breathe again but that i guess is also my fault bc im trying to use pain meds#holy moly i just want to not get dizzy standing up cause wow dang#sure would be nice if the multiple incisions in my stomach didnt THROB every time i sneezed or coughed or cleared my throat#but since i didnt use much pain meds before because i would be mocked for being too much of a baby its like#welp damn now i could really use some and im being called out for being too reliant#anyway time to sleep more because that means im not noticing my pain#im literally smaller than most children and so i do understand my body size makes people worried about the medication intake#but can i please just go a day without being asked how much im taking or when i last took it or if im gonna cry#anyway sorry for the excessive rant today never really had surgery or anything so this is brand spankin new suffering
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thegoldencontracts · 3 days
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On The House!
Summary: Azul's always seemed to break his "no free lunch" rule with you. A free lunch here, tutoring there, and whatnot. But it's only after you two start dating that you realize why.
Notes: Jai if you see this TYYYY YOU ARE A GENIUSS RAGGHHH, also there's one brief innuendo of "punishment" by the reader bc I feel like teenagers would absolutely make innuendos - source: me and my friends, and also bc the reader's gotta annoy Azul somehow
Everyone knew that Azul Ashengrotto was notoriously stingy. He was a firm believer that if you wanted to cross a bridge, you had to pay the toll. He never gave anything for free.
Except with you. Azul tutored you quite a few times, and he'd even get you snacks while he was at it. Why? Was he trying to scam you?
As you chewed on a piece of the candy he'd given you, you couldn't help but ask.
"Hey, Azul," you said. "Can I ask why you're giving me all this free stuff?"
Azul's eyes widened a bit.
"It's of irrelevance," he said.
Weird. He didn't usually get defensive this quickly. Maybe he was just upset because you'd caught him trying to scam you?
"Is this some weird plan to sucker me into a contract?" You asked, eyes narrowed. "Because I'm not signing anything."
Azul seemed to get irritated at that, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"No, no, I assure you, that isn't the case," he said.
Why was he getting defensive like this? That wasn't usually how he reacted to your prodding. There was probably something you didn't know.
Scratch that, there was definitely something you didn't know.
Whatever. You'd just have to find out later, it seemed.
"Fine, fine," you said. "But-"
Azul rolled his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe that you got to see him so openly annoyed.
"I'm watching, Azul. You'd better not scan me, or else I'll punish you, okay?"
Azul groaned.
"What sort of phrasing is that?" He asked. "You aren't powerful enough to enforce anything upon me either way!"
"But it's funny!"
"Hmph, cretin."
And yet, you couldn't help but wonder, if Azul really thought you were a cretin, why did he give you so much free stuff?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Time passed, and things between you and Azul changed. You'd even begin dating. He still kept giving you free stuff though.
Why? How was it that he could call you an absolute cretin and then shove a bowl of soup cooked by him your way in the same breath?
But then, one day, you realized why he did it.
It was to show his affection.
In hindsight, it should've been obvious. Everyone had some form of expressing their care for others, right? And this was Azul's. It only made sense.
You were going to ask him about it. Mostly because his reaction would be fun.
"Hey, remember that time I asked you why you gave me free stuff so much?" You said one day while the two of you were cuddled together in his bed.
Azul just silently pulled back the hand you'd used for emphasis back to his head, shooting you a bleary glare.
"Mm," he said in what was probably an affirmative. You could never be too sure though. Not with a tired Azul. For all you knew, he could just be expressing his annoyance with the fact that you weren't giving him enough headpats.
"Well, I think you were always doing it to show your looooove."
That seemed to wake Azul up.
Hastily, he swatted away your hand - though you could tell he wanted it back right after, turning away from you with a huff.
"That's utterly preposterous!" He said, though his cheeks were flushed. "I certainly wasn't pining after you like some buffoon!"
He absolutely was. He showed you he loved you since way back then, while all his free tutoring sessions and carefully prepared meals.
"Are you embarrassed about it, Azul?" You said. "Don't me. I think it's cute, you know."
Azul scowled.
"You're a mongrel," he said, before standing up with a sigh. "I'll make you some food, perhaps the added energy will help restore your ordinary intellect."
That actually sounded like Azul was calling you smart and stupid at the same time. Bravo, Azul. Impressive.
Wait. He was doing it again!
"And you're making this because you looove me, right?" You said, batting your eyelashes.
"Think whatever you wish," he said. "But we ought to get back to bed once you finish your food."
He just wanted to cuddle, didn't he?
"Anything for you."
And as Azul asked you what you wanted for dinner, you could tell that he'd do anything for you as well.
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works-of-heart · 3 days
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The Rose foreshadowing from that "God Forsaken Bonus Chapter"
That is how some e/riels refer to the BC. It's like they know it is the end of their ship, the nail in the coffin. There is quite a bit of Foreshadowing in the SF Feysand's BC that has pretty significant Elucien hints.
A lot of e/riels say that Lucien's gift of the enchanted gardening gloves was a thoughtless gift. Elain likes getting her hands dirty, so clearly the gloves were belittling her.
Except they weren't. Gloves serve a purpose, they serve to protect you so you don't get cut up by thorns and hurt. Gifting someone safety equipment for their hobby/craft is not careless or insulting. It's saying "I want you to be safe doing the thing you love." It's actually rather thoughtful and sweet.
But, there's something more to those gloves and how they're tied to Lucien, and the symbolism of the thorns from roses. Let's dig in.
 “Don't forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one's hands dirty along the way."  “And torn up by thorns," I mused, recalling a morning this past summer when Elain had come into the house, her right palm bleeding from several gashes thanks to a stubborn rosebush that had pierced her gloves. The thorns had broken off in her skin, leaving sharp splinters that I’d had to pull free. I didn’t dare mention that if she had been wearing the enchanted gloves Lucien had gotten her last Solstice, nothing would have pierced them at all.
Elain is stubborn. She's been stubborn about the whole mating bond, avoiding Lucien, avoiding his gifts. She's reluctant to give into the bond and her mate, and it's understandable. She's been through a lot, and she might be blaming him for her rejection from Greysen.
Another interesting thing of not here is, what did Azriel gift to Elain for Solstice?
A rose Necklace.
In this moment, Elain was interested in Azriel. He knew that what they were doing was wrong. Elain went with it too though, asking for him to put it on her, sharing charged looks, sharing an almost kiss...
and then, he called it a mistake.
Rhys vanished, and Azriel was left standing before Elain, who still awaited his kiss. His stomach twisted as he pulled his hand from her hair  and stepped back. Forced himself to say, "This was a mistake.” She opened her eyes, hurt and confusion warring there before she whispered, "I’m sorry."
Again, the rose imagery. The stubborn rose whose thorns pierced her, caused her hurt and pain.
This is why I think Feyre's previous statement, saying had she been wearing the enchanted gloves Lucien had gotten her, nothing would have pierced them at all.
It has the same feeling of, "Had she not been stubborn and went with her mate, she wouldn't have been hurt by Azriel." The gloves are more than just to protect her hands while gardening, they are a symbol of Lucien, protecting her heart, protecting her. And with him, nothing would pierce her at all.
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Hand over the little beasts
on it boss!! o7 this took . fuckig Forever bc i had t doodle everyone since the screencaps i have for them have like 5 pixels Total and would be Incomprehensible so <333 Behold My Beasts!!!
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team control team!! they r so silly 2 me :] more abt em under th cut bc uhhhh. yknow.
- Jacob - Snow White's Apple (+Penitence) my first little guy!!! he has a very serious and to-the-point demeanor, and has a very flat inflection on... pretty much everything about himself. he's the one that most embodies his role, for lack of a better term. takes his job very seriously, and intends to do well. his attitude is very dry, but he is very genuine and earnest when it comes down to it in an odd sort of way. he's the type to say something completely off-the-wall entirely stone-faced, and will oftentimes take things said to him in a similar manner. there isnt that much that seems to be able to catch him off guard. if theres something in his way, then he will simply have to overcome it. he'll try anything once. jacob is very intent on keeping things orderly, and will enforce this with his peers if he needs to. bluntly. chaos and a lax attitude are the catalysts to things going wrong, so its as simple as minimizing the chances for this to occur. simple. despite his nagging with the rest of the team, he means no sharpness by it-- he's direct (and maybe a bit... heavy-handed,) but he simply talks to others the way he would address himself, and sees nothing wrong with it. (unfortunately, this makes him come across as rude more often than he'd like... not that hes usually aware.) because of his unexpressive exterior, its oftentimes very difficult to get a grasp on how he thinks or feels about things-- especially since he himself seems to pay it very little heed, even when he Maybe Probably Should. one of the ones most likely to work himself to death without realizing it. hes doing his best ok.
- John - Sound of a Star (+Wingbeat, Hornet) very lax and lackadaisical-- hes insistent on doing what he needs to and very little else. in fact, he makes a very big show of it; always taking his sweet time, not really showing concern for much of anything, even when things are, as they say, Kind Of Really Bad. (Jacob tends to need to prod him along more often than not.) despite this, john is actually one of the more reliable agents of the facility-- always getting things done thoroughly and efficiently with very little instance of error. truthfully, he's actually very prideful in the work that he does, and quite enjoys showing off his skills when he gets the chance. infuriatingly, he tends to respond to questioning of his abilities with a flippant "im just that good." and well... its honestly what he believes. truthfully, he has a complete aversion to genuineness of any kind-- responding to questions with snarky remarks or quips, complaining about assignments, cracking jokes in the face of catastrophe. its... honestly more of a nervous habit than an active choice. in his eyes, if he cant do anything about an issue, theres simply no reason to worry about it. and so he coasts along, completely unruffled on the surface. at first, he didnt really see what the big deal was about the facility. everyone always spoke like it was a death sentence-- but it was just kind of poking some creature or another and leaving a few times a day and that was it. so he let his attitude reflect that. but once things started climbing, he began to slowly understand just how out of his depth he was; and his demeanor... didnt change. why should it? why bother? confidence was half the battle anyway, no point in showing your weakness. honestly, he has no idea what hes doing and simply acts the part-- it just hasnt burned him yet. (not to mention, with how serious the rest of his team was... well, they could use the encouragement.) and well, if it works... who cares about what lies underneath, right? no big deal. just get good.
- Jose - Lament (+Lament) the asiyah layer's special errand boy. for a good while, he was the team's most skilled employee-- always taking care of things cross-department due to being the only one who could really cover that role. watching newbies, working with new abnos, tackling faraway ordeals... that was all on him. and he didnt mind at first, really-- he enjoyed doing good work, being relied on by his peers... but um, well, he'd love maybe a little break, once or twice, thats all... but there's always more work to do, so... he was the first to work with fotb-- certainly not the last, but definitely the most Common. he also happened to be the most Receptive to it. already he was pretty high-strung from the pressure of his responsibilities, but... it was safe to say things reached an entirely new level after that. he wasnt used to abnormalities being so reasonable, for lack of a better term, nor to be able to just... have a conversation, like that. maybe he was listening just a bit too genuinely. they dont want anyone to die. they really dont want anyone to die. but theres nothing really they can do. just keep running! just keep your head up! if anything else, just stay alive! but at this point, death really isnt the worst thing that could happen to them in a place like this. truly, the worst has already happened. there's no escaping the facility, after all. but what could he do about that? so he repeats like a mantra; just dont die. just dont die. please just dont die. he wants to do good so fucking bad. so much is on his shoulders, and he Has to carry it. its practically compulsive. he has to do it because nobody else can. nobody else should Have to. and so he fusses over just about everyone, completely unable to speak of Why it is he's suddenly so skittish-- especially because of just how busy his responsibilities keep him. he just cant stop. theres no time. every second wasted is another chance something could happen. not once, though, did he really worry about himself. the contrast was stark-- constantly running himself ragged for the sake of others, yet paying no heed to his own safety. all that mattered was carrying out his tasks... which made things difficult as the stakes kept rising, but his own capabilities did not. the people he worried about were suddenly able to do things he couldnt even imagine-- and he was struggling paces behind them. he pretends not to notice how much more of his time is spent waiting. its... how do you deal with worrying about those facing trials far beyond anything you know, and you yourself are fully unable to reach them? it was best not to worry about it. ...he was never much good at that, was he?
- Mabel - Mimicry (+Noise, Mimicry, Our Galaxy) hes just some guy. like... he just works here. kinda stands out like a sore thumb, honestly, because of how strikingly... normal he was. a little awkward but well-meaning, prone to wandering (and slacking off...) he mostly just took care of smaller tasks and issues for a while-- coming in so late comparatively, he fell pretty far behind, pretty much just working on zayin level abnormalities well past day 20 or so. more often than not, he was the only one in the control team's main room while everyone else took care of pressing tasks cross-facility, only getting to share a word or two of pleasantries before they had to run off again. he knew the work was important, but... well, everyone always looked so sullen. he could never really understand why-- and whenever he brought it up, it seemed to just sour the mood... after a while, he just stopped trying. things suddenly changed, though, when the facility got its first aleph: nothing there. and somehow, he was decided to be most fit to work with it. it was strange, to say the least, mostly taking care of things that barely seemed to acknowledge his presence and then suddenly... that. hed be lying if he said he wasnt afraid, but this was his job, and he was trusted with it. so obviously that meant they knew he could do it, right? right. things switched around very quickly. he wanted to say it wasnt a bad thing, but... it was weird, is all. going from some nobody standing alone and aimless to... tackling things that shouldnt exist, killing things with power he isnt sure is really his. a lot of things were suddenly like that, honestly. he. suddenly feels like he has to be on his best behavior. um. is this thing on? manager are you seeing this? he gets a lot quieter after that. as it turns out, hes very harsh when he doesnt mean to be. hes honest, but sometimes that honesty could hurt. hes a bit intense… everyone else was, so it kinda rubbed off on him. hes compensating for his own lack of interest in bloodshed. he wants to be respected, but it just ends up scaring people. he isnt quite sure how to stand up for himself now. he just does what hes ordered bc hes never had a choice before, so why now? he needs to figure out who he is again– the ego did quite a number on him. he kinda fucks up on interactions way more than he thinks he used to. he keeps himself small and quiet so he doesnt accidentally trample over anyone. (he doesnt like the strange looks the clerks give him now. he doesnt exactly Like his ego gear or what it does to his brain, but it keeps him safe, so... hes here to help, remember? don't be scared...) honestly, he does really yearn for kindness and gentleness. its just… hard to admit. especially to people he still subtly thinks are above him. hes not stupid. he knows abandonment when he sees it. he cant really blame them for it, but… it still hurt, yknow? he wasnt Supposed to be anything, which was insulting, but now that he Is everyone treats him so differently, and somehow thats even More insulting. hes more than just a machine yknow… but, well, if that's his job, then. whatever.
theyre basically just.... a bunch of randos who are all trying their best, got disillusioned and distant, then suddenly clung together after realizing just how fucked everything was all of a sudden. theyre all overwhelmed, but theyll be damned if they dont look out for each other. jose was team captain first, but after some shuffling, the title fell on jacob. they all seem much happier with this.
they all honestly bounce off of each other really well despite everything-- jacob keeps everyone facing the right direction, quickly and calmly guiding the team. john provides a more lighthearted energy, but also is very skilled at keeping a level head and offering clarity when the others get overwhelmed. jose and mabel both cover for everyone else, but Especially each other after their own respective... trials. despite The Horrors, theyre all honestly keeping each other together very well.
bbbbut thats only four of them right? five to a team and all. well the fifth is um, well. yknow, its. well,
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(also heres everyone elses sprites from various places in th playthru bc ilove them :] yay)
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chelseeebe · 2 days
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and they said, speak now
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18+. mdni. smut. mentions of cheating. femreader!xeddie. no use of y/n!
a little second chance romance story wherein eddie is invited to your wedding, though he’s hopeful that it’ll never actually happen.
a/n: wanted to get this finished so i could start writing a follow up for too sweet (bc i love it and i love mean asshole eddie) so i hope it bridges some sort of gap while i write :p switches pov a lil bit but it’s all marked out 4 ya.
“-gettin’ married to who?” eddie spits, barreling into the living room with a mouthful of cereal.
steve looks up from the paper invite and shrugs, “mark?” mouthing a quiet i don’t know as robin looks between the two.
“and i’m invited?”
“i mean.. it says all of us so..” he looks up at eddie, “do you even want to go?” dubious at eddie’s overly keen questioning.
eddie’s bewildered that he’d even ask, “‘course we’re fucking going,” shaking his head, still gripping onto his bowl of cereal, “i didn’t even know she was datin’ anybody else.. what the fuck.”
robin shares a look with her best friend, thinking eddie hasn’t seen. he knows exactly what they’re not saying. it doesn’t exactly need to be spelled out for him.
perhaps eddie hadn’t ever really gotten over it. it being you leaving to new york for college, breaking up with him in the process.
maybe they were justified in their judgemental glances, it’d been years since you’d left. he should be over it by now. evidently, you’ve moved on. why hadn’t he?
but he wasn’t and now he’s not sure if he’ll ever be.
-
the five of them shovel into jonathan’s car, robin squished between eddie and steve in the back with their bags piled high in the trunk.
eddie stares out of the window, he had started to regret agreeing to go. his ex-girlfriend, whom he wasn’t exactly over, was getting married to some fuckhead he’d never met and now he had to go and wear a suit and pretend to be happy about it all.
“i still can’t believe she’s getting fucking married,” he grumbles into his fist.
robin grins, nudging her elbow into steve’s ribcage, “oh this going to be so much fun,” elated at his misery.
jonathan sighs quietly, throwing his head back against the seat and slyly turning the volume up so as to not hear any more of eddie’s whining.
there’d been months of it, so he’s not surprised.
-
eddie is fucking elated to reach the hotel, gawping at the grand exterior as they get out of the car, stretching their legs after the long trip.
“jeez,” robin utters, staring at the tall building with her mouth hung open, “at least she’s marrying rich, hey?” wiggling her brows at eddie’s less than excited face.
he doesn’t rise to it, ignoring her obvious attempts to get him riled up.
it’s even nicer inside, gold plated ornaments decorate the walls, outdated paintings of old people he didn’t care to know, joining them.
they’re in the process of checking in when a familiar voice comes from behind, a small, meek, “hey guys!”
it’s you.
they spin, sharing tired smiles as you stand looking horrifically awkward. like somehow you hadn’t shared years and years of history with every single person here.
everyone else gets a short, half hug, exchanging niceties while eddie waits patiently for his turn. he doesn’t think you’ll even acknowledge him.
but your eyes lock, that same sinking feeling that he felt all those years ago as he watched your car pull out of hawkins plagues his stomach.
“hey,” you nod, tense as you open your arms for a hug.
it’s more than he’d ever expected, now finding himself stuck, unable to embrace the situation. you’re exactly the same and yet he feels like he doesn’t recognise you. barely touched by the graces of age, still the same girl he was sure he still loved.
eventually he pulls himself together, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you in.
fuck.
you even smell the same. the heavy vanilla scent of your shampoo wafts through the air, transporting him back in time to nights shared in his cramped room, talking about the future together and how you couldn’t wait to get out of hawkins.
it’s utterly ironic, and not to mention heartbreaking, to think about now.
“hi,” eddie musters, sounding as pathetic as he felt.
the others watch on in anticipation, expecting a screaming match only to be met with whatever the fuck this was. dancing around each other like two complete strangers.
“how.. uh, how was the drive?” you ask, fiddling with your fingers, the way you used to when you were nervous.
“long,” he smiles meekly.
there’s too much he wants to say, desperately wanting to just shake you and ask what the hell you’re doing getting married to someone who’s not him.
besides, four sets of eyes watch both of you eagerly, hoping for an argument or maybe the exact opposite.
“there you are!” a gruff voice bellows, coming out of the mouth of the most insufferable looking man eddie’s ever seen.
he walks over with his shit-eating grin, taking you away from eddie’s grasp, leaving an aching in his fingertips.
your brows shoot upward, sighing softly, “everyone, this is mark.. mark, these are my..” your eyes dip, unable to meet eddie’s gaze, “friends.”
mark’s hand extends towards eddie, grinning like a complete fool as he shakes it. “nice to meet you man! heard so much about you,” his grip tight, squeezing the tired bones in his hand.
eddie wonders if he’s asserting his dominance, if you’d told him who exactly he was. about all those years you spent as his girlfriend. about how he used to make you cum in two minutes. or perhaps all the times you swore that if you had to get married, it’d be to him.
eddie doesn’t count on it.
-
eddie waits. and he waits. and he waits.
pacing the floor of his room, contemplating if he truly had the nerve to stalk the halls to your room or if he’d have to sit here and regret it forever.
fuck it, he thinks. there’s no guarantee he’ll even knock on the door, he just needs to get out of here and at least try to.
eddie’s acutely aware that nothing he says to you will change your mind in fact, he thinks you’ll more than likely slam the door in his face.
but he’s gotta try.
- reader’s pov -
it’s a quiet knock, barely audible as you toss and turn.
you debate even answering, too caught up in your nerves to care about some bridesmaid complaining about her dress or your mother prattling on about the floral arrangements again.
but then they knock again, louder this time though it sounds more unsure, a hesitant wrap of the knuckles, pulling yourself from the comfort of your blanket to see what they wanted.
you hardly register who the person is before immediately wanting to slam the door in his face.
“what are you doing?” you hiss through the small gap in the door, noting that it was somewhere between 11 and midnight.
“i wanna talk,” eddie frowns, carefully wedging his foot between the door, as if you wouldn’t immediately notice.
“we don’t need to talk,” you refute, scowling at your batshit crazy ex.
he sighs, looking around the empty corridor, knowing he shouldn’t be here right now. “can we.. i just wanna talk.. that’s it,” his eyes wide and begging.
you take pity on him, you always did when he had that pathetic frown on his face. like a dejected puppy that needed you to cradle him.
something in your head screams out to just close the door, it’s a terrible idea and you know it.
alas, you pull it open a few more inches, giving him the chance to slide inside before it’s shut again, turning the lock immediately.
if anyone were to walk in, your relationship would be ruined, tomorrow would just be a waste of money and you’d be a social pariah in your circles.
“why didn’t you tell me that you were getting married?”
the nerve to ask that question like he deserved an explanation. you haven’t even seen the man in years and yet, he feels as if he’s owed something from you.
“i didn’t know i had to,” you shrug, standing a few feet away from him, hoping to keep the distance.
eddie scowls, brows knitted into a line across his forehead, “you don’t- i thought we were friends.. friends tell each other those things.”
“you haven’t seen me in years eddie!” raising your voice despite being surrounded by your friends and family. “what gives you the right to march in here and ask me that?” stepping closer with every word, taken aback by his sheer nerve.
his eyes harden, jaw tense, “you left me- you did that and then the next time i hear from you, it’s because you’re getting married? s’that not completely fucked up to you too?”
“i didn’t leave you! i went to college, like people our age are supposed to! it’s not my fault that you’d rather sit in jeff’s basement pretending to be a rockstar,” snarling your upper lip, hoping you’ll hit him right where it hurts.
if nothing else, it’s frustrating. eddie was always talking about his big dreams and how he was going to get out of hawkins once and for all, make something of himself and never look back.
but you got tired of waiting for that to happen. years and years of soon and i’m not ready’s had left you pretty hopeless for any kind of future with him.
he shakes his head, scoffing, “oh? so should i have followed you to new york? watched you change everything about yourself for some asshole?”
there’s a lump in your throat now and weirdly, not a speck of anger. at least not about his words for your fiancé. more so about his complete disregard of your feelings, the dreams you put on hold for him.
“i didn’t.. i didn’t change,” bottom lip trembling, “this is me eddie,” nostrils flaring as you skulk closer, “you just don’t know me anymore.”
“i know you better than he does,” he fires back, adams apple bobbing in his throat. a sincere, honest tone.
it only makes you more frustrated, the audacity to come here and act like this, the day before your wedding.
you laugh in his face, a maniacal cackle, “you’re deluded,” gathering all of your strength not to punch him in the face, “you should leave, before you embarrass yourself any more.”
he’s almost frantic now, grasping the air, “i’m not the one embarrassing myself here. the you i know would never want this.. what happened to that girl who promised to marry me? where’s she?”
“people change eddie! you clearly haven’t!” you hiss, prodding your finger into his chest, hoping you’ll somehow set him alight with your fingertip.
he grabs your hand, keeping it close to his heart as his frown sets in. “tell me- tell me that this is what you want, the big wedding and fucking mark and a coupl’a kids, tell me and i’ll leave,” downturned eyes, begging himself not to cry.
you want to scream, ferociously snatching your hand away from him before you turn away. sick to death of looking into his glossy chestnut eyes. loathing the feeling of your past flooding back into your brain.
a few years ago, you would’ve been certain that eddie was the one you were going to marry. marriage wasn’t something you were ever particularly interested in, your parents hadn’t been the best example. but if it had happened, it would’ve been nothing like this, maybe in the tiny chapel in hawkins, a couple years from now, a small, private ceremony with your friends and family. you’d be lying if you said you had never thought about it.
about what could’ve been.
somewhere, buried deep inside, you longed for it.
eddie doesn’t budge, hearing the sounds of his heavy breathing from behind. you can picture that stupid look on his face, pathetic and sullen as he waits for a fleck of hope.
you turn back, praying that you’ll have somehow found the strength to tell him to leave in the two seconds it takes to face him.
it doesn’t come, the lump in your throat dissipating only to be replaced with a fiery pit in your stomach.
and then a moment, where neither of you have the guts to speak any longer, in what feels like the most intense battle of eye contact you’d ever been a part of.
but it’s over as quickly as it started, both of you lurching forward at the same time, lips crashing together in a hungry kiss, finding the side of his head for leverage as his antsy hands grip your waist.
the rest is just a silent routine, one you two have been through a hundred times before.
your back crashes into the desk, pressed into the wood by his torso. a hand squeezing your thigh as you’re helped onto the surface.
the metal on your fourth finger aches, as if some higher power is attempting to intervene, to stop this mistake before it goes too far.
it’s dutifully ignored, spreading your legs to allow him between your soft thighs. the thin material of your shorts meant that you could feel everything. his cock jumping as it brushes against your heat, low grumbling into your mouth at the action.
his jacket slips from his shoulders and onto the floor, your soft hands running down the length of his arms, brushing against the tattoos you used to spend hours tracing.
eddie’s hands roam your body, between your thighs, tucking underneath the elastic of the shorts as your hips lift in unison, allowing him to pull them down.
his throat rumbles at your lack of underwear, rough denim pressed against your cunt, his erection demanding out of his jeans.
your fingers fumble with his jeans, hearing the low clink of his belt somewhere muddled between his grunting and your melodic pants.
the throbbing between your thighs becomes almost insatiable, finding your own release on the rough fabric of his jeans, sighing into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slip into yours instead.
cold fingers grip your thighs, lifting your legs so that they rest around his waist, clothed cock nudging against your heat, growling into your mouth.
your head jerks back, “my mom.. my mom’s next door..” you pant, fingers trailing over his lips, doing nothing to muffle his raspy groans.
“good,” eddie smirks, hurriedly tugging his boxers down beneath his balls, burying himself inside of your soaked cunt, “i never liked her.”
a strangled moan is all you manage in response, grabbing at the desk for a little leverage as his hips meet the back of your thighs. any anger you felt towards his insults towards your mother quickly float away, turning into static as he slides slowly in and out.
marvelling at the sight of your cunt once again envelopes around him. you’d missed that, his damn near infatuation with your pussy.
the wooden frame knocks against the wall, whatever shit you had compiled for the morning all comes tumbling down, clattering to the floor alongside your long mewls.
eddie near enough melts, fingers melding into one with your skin, filling your cunt to the hilt. a certain feeling that had never been replaced, only achieved by him and his undeniable love for your pussy.
your lips catch onto his, attempting to muffle his hoarse groans, hoping to to god that the walls were thick enough.
“missed you,” he murmurs, half into your mouth, the other vibrating against your chin as your lips connect in the most careless manner.
your eyes flutter shut, chest heaving, pressed to his as your fingers begin to loosen their grip on the desk. his pace unfaltering with utter desperation, an exhilaration he had chased for years, to no avail.
“fuck,” you whine, regretting the shaky word the second it slips out. one arm hooks around his neck, forehead resting against his as his hair begins to stick.
it’s so disgusting, so wracked with desire that you’re sure you’ll be thinking- feeling it for months.
eddie’s cock nudges against against the spot only he could ever find, his pubic bone catching against your clit. fuelling the inextinguishable fire in your stomach, only making it rise into your throat.
with every fervent thrust he’s grumbling something;
fuck, shit, love you, love you.
your legs tremble, exhausted as they sit around his zealous hips. naturally, they tighten, drawing him in closer, an incessant need to feel all of him all at once.
“you can’t.. not inside,” you pant, opening his eyes to meet his though they’re not on yours. staring starry eyed at the space between your bodies, watching as they collide in ways your heart had longed for.
he’s close, you can tell. choking on his breaths when you squeeze around him, signalling your own orgasm.
“fuck, i can’t-,” eddie howls, desperately pounding his cock into your quivering cunt, giving everything away for the last thirty seconds.
you cry out, toppling over the edge as your stomach all but bursts, the pleasure reaching every last nerve in your body. clinging to his neck with a white knuckle grip, clutching his clammy skin as your body turns to mush before him.
eddie just about manages to pull out, sliding between your slick folds before his stomach lurches, shooting thick ropes of cum onto your stomach, thighs and the desk.
your foreheads remain as one, gasping into the hot air that surrounds you.
finally, his eyes trail up toward yours, meeting with the most sorrowful look that a man who has just cum, could hold.
it’s as if reality sets in, untangling your legs to shove him away. harsh and untoward as he stumbles back, still reeling from his own orgasm.
“oh my god,” you mumble incoherently, “oh my god, i’m getting married tomorrow,” clenching your fist, shouting as if he were somehow unaware.
his silence is deafening, his release still clinging to your body as you jump from the wooden table, marching into the bathroom, swallowing the urge to cry.
eddie stands with his head hung low, belt still undone as you sanctimoniously barging back past him to redress yourself, muttering ferocious whispers to yourself.
“i’m getting married tomorrow,” you repeat, unwavering anger in your voice. undecided on whether you were telling him or yourself that fact.
“so you’re still gonna marry him?” eddie asks, a slight hint of optimism in his tone. he had reason to be, you suppose. anyone else would assume the same.
you swallow, “what else is there for me?”
getting married had been the next logical step. you had the job, the house, the sweet, timid guy that wouldn’t hurt a fly. why wouldn’t you marry him?
his face crumples, brows stitched together in confusion, “me?”
almost on instinct, your head shakes, smacking your palm into his shoulder, “no. not you. it’s not supposed to be you,” a certain sadness plaguing your tone, “it was never supposed to be you,” palm slapping into his chest.
eddie’s face falls, holding his jacket in his hands wishing you’d take it back, tell him you were lying and that you really did still love him.
buried somewhere under years of regret, you probably still did.
tears weep out of the corner of your eye, quickly wiped away with your trembling finger. “you need to leave,” eyes pointed to the floor, refusing to look at him any longer.
he sighs, hesitantly stepping around the mess you both had made and out of your peripheral view. slow steps, willing for your mouth to open and those three words to dance out of it.
the door clicks shut and you’re alone again. nauseous and wishing you had just let him stay, wanting nothing more than to be held in your insurmountable feelings of remorse.
-
you’ve barely slept, overwhelmed with a sense of guilt and indecision.
six years of work and making something of yourself had come horrifically crashing down in one night, one stupid, moronic mistake.
but was it really a mistake when your heart still aches and your lips still feel the traces of his.
a short knock breaks you from your trance, the noise you’d been dreading all night.
sarah. bright-eyed and stupidly excitable nature, ready for your wedding day.
“woah,” she remarks, eyes darting around the room you’re just now realising you forgot to clean, “crazy night?” she smirks, eyeing the bottles and pens that had fallen from the desk to the floor.
“oh,” you smile, bile rising in your throat, “i’m just..” clambering for an excuse, “clumsy.”
she scoffs, dumping her bag on the unmade bed, “you don’t have to lie to me,” smile growing, “if you and mark wanna.. break traditions then i’m all for it.”
her wilful innocence makes you feel all the more worse. you’re supposed best friend was none the wiser, bouncing around with a proud smile, ready for your wedding day.
- eddie’s pov -
steve notices something’s up immediately.
dark rings accompanying eddie’s eyes after he had gone missing for hours last night.
“you good?” steve’s hand thwacks against his back, assuming eddie’s manner was all to do with the fact that you were getting married and not that only a few hours ago, he was telling you that he still loved you while you were having sex.
the ride to the venue is quiet, which everyone appreciates, having prepared for a litany of complaints and whining.
the church is even more extravagant than the hotel, resembling one of those castles he’d seen in a fairytale book.
he wants that to make him feel better, that at least he wasn’t the one wasting all of this money on a stupid wedding, but it doesn’t.
because irregardless of how much money you were spending, you were still marrying someone else.
sure, it wouldn’t be a particularly honest nor holy marriage but it’d be a marriage nonetheless. something he would never have with you. no matter how hard he tried.
they file into the pew, sitting slumped against the varnished wood as everyone chatters around him.
concerned heads fly around, the groomsmen rushing up the aisle as they’re beckoned by your bridesmaids.
eddie sits up, looking around at the frantic bridesmaids who were desperately trying to get the pastor’s attention. something’s wrong. he can feel it in his bones.
he throws up a quick two with his fingers to steve before sliding out of the pew, ducking his head down the aisle as he searches for you.
slipping past the worried wedding party, opening a multitude of doors in search of you. hoping that you’d at least made it to the church, that you were okay.
he doesn’t expect to find you in here, holding onto your mouth, mascara stains dripping down your cheeks, curled into the corner with your shoulders shaking. eddie slips in, shoving the broom in between the door handle, ensuring that no one else could find the pair of you.
you spend a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes until you squeak, “what’re you doing?” the most soul crushing tone that makes his heart ache.
“i came to find you,” he says, simply.
because he would, he’d do it in every life.
your palm smears the black stains around your cheek, scoffing at his words. “you shouldn’t have.. i’m fine,” trying to convince yourself more than you were him.
“you don’t look fine.”
your bottom lip trembles, threatening to spill over again. evoking a harsh stab of guilt through his chest. eddie surges toward you, placing his palms over yours, “you don’t have to do this.. we can leave right now,” he assures, searching your eyes. he’d whisk you away in a heartbeat, you didn’t even have to ask. just give him that look.
your nostrils flare, a wail constricted to the back of your throat, trying hard not to alert the hundreds of wedding guests sat just a couple hundred meters away. the dark light of the closet does well to accentuate your tearful eyes, his heart aching with every sniffle, every quietened sob that falls from your lips.
then, you growl, rather forcefully slapping his chest, “this is your fault,” fingers grabbing onto his suit jacket, “why couldn’t you just leave me alone?” frustration seeping out of your words.
eddie doesn’t have an answer, at least not one that would make you feel better.
so he stands in silence, letting you treat him like your verbal punching bag.
“i can’t do it,” you cry, burying your face into his neck, “i can’t.. marry him.”
he nods, stood just before you in this cramped closet, “you don’t have to,” assuredly grabbing your sodden cheeks, streaks of black stain his palms, “we can go.. anywhere you want, right now.”
promising the world because really, it was all he had to offer.
he wasn’t rich, hadn’t figured out how to get the fuck out of hawkins yet but he did know that he loves you and he’d do anything to prove that.
you swallow, averting your eyes to the sparkling ring on your hand, curled into the fabric of his jacket. “okay,” flicking back to his eyes, it’s so simple and yet it knocks the breath from his lungs.
nothing really registers, eddie had planned for more bargaining, certain that regardless of his pleas, you’d still end up walking down that aisle, promising yourself to another man.
“really?” he asks, clarifying for both himself and for you. there was still time for you to pull yourself together and go get married, he wasn’t going to deny you that.
“really,” you nod frantically, “i’ll go anywhere,” tugging at the collar of his shirt, “anywhere with you.”
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Love this cute, colorful 1915 home in  Victoria, BC, Canada, but it's so overpriced, b/c Canadian home prices have also gone way off the rails. 3bds, 2ba, $1.1M.
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Look at how cute it is. I thought maybe for that price it came furnished, but the description doesn't mention anything. They used gloss paint on the walls so you can see the rough plaster.
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I must say that the red kitchen is huge and has some original cabinets. I wonder if they'll leave some of the free-standing pieces. They're not showing a closeup of the blue cabinets, which are clearly DIY. I wonder why.
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They've got a little vintage bath here. Yes, I can see the blue faux finish a little better here. Not what I'd expect in a $1.1M home. It also looks like the counter is just covered in contact paper, or some sort of board.
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So, here we have a family room that matches the living room.
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The primary bedroom. Nice. What you'd typically expect in a small Victorian.
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In bedroom #2 they're probably leaving the armoire, b/c it doesn't have a closet.
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And, bedroom #3 is very nice, as well. Wow, though, painted white floors throughout. Everyone will have to remove their shoes at the front door. Okay, this is what I think: The home is rough, hardly any improvements were ever made except fresh paint and staging to detract from the fact that you're getting a house that's worth less than $400k, at the end of the day.
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Now, this photo shows the large yard with some sort of plastic down, probably to tame the weeds.
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This photo shows the plants and trees coming up thru some sort of flooring. I'm confused.
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The front of the home has lots of foliage for privacy and shade. Cute picket fence.
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Lovely view from the porch.
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nightsmarish · 2 days
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Summary: as summer at hogwarts approaches, both you and Regulus build up your walls again, lose sleep, and are warry of saying yes to the offer to go to Potter Manor.
A/n: might write a pt.2? Would we like that? Maybe? Idk, I lost the plot halfway through and u can tell lmao. Also, have not written for this specific ship, so I may not be as good as the queen of this ship
Update!: pt2
Poly!moonwater x gn!reader (Remus lupin x regulus black x reader) | 1.6k words
Tw: allusions to toxic family, losing sleep, snippy bc of losing sleep, negative thoughts, anxiety, a nap dude
⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆
History of Magic is usually an easy subject. Sit down, take notes, look over the assignment, complete it during dinner or before bed, and you're done.
But today everything but that is happening. You managed to get all the way to sitting down and pulling out your parchment and quill before the words Professor Binns says all mesh together. Nothing makes sense.
And you know it's due to the ache behind your eyes, the pounding in your head and the ache in your bones.
The last few nights you haven't slept, not really at least. It's nearing the end of this year at Hogwarts so everyone is preparing to go home. Planning what they will do with one another over break before the new year starts up. Talking about their family traditions, and a feeling of excitement takes the castle.
Despite this, a feeling of dread has been following you like your own personal rain cloud. The knowledge you'll have to return home eating you alive. Knowing you won't be able to contact Remus or Regulus, less your parents find out you're dating them, making you feel like you're choking on your heart.
The memories you've made this year really should weigh out the weeks you will spend with your family. In the stiff place, you're forced to call home with strict rules and expectations. Yet, you feel horrible. And it's been causing you to force yourself into your studies for the upcoming tests. Avoiding sleep due to nightmares that have recently plagued your mind.
Which leads to now, the room spinning slowly on an axis, ans Professor Binns slightly to blurry, even for a ghost. You know you need to zone back in, drink some water, take a vitamin potion or even visit Madam Pomfrey at this rate. Yet you can't make yourself do it.
Continuing to stay in your zoned out state till the end of class. And that's when even you draw the line.
Standing up from your seat as everyone filters out, albeit a little you're moving a little slower than usual, you exit in search of your boyfriends. Either or both. And it's not exactly a very long search, quickly finding yourself face to face with Regulus Black and Remus Lupin.
"Hey, dove." Remus' voice is sweet, per usual, like the comfort of a spoon full of honey on a sore throat.
Regulus doesn't speak for a full moment, analyzing you. To anyone else it would look judgmental, but the softness in his eyes and slight pull at the edge of his lips tell you differently.
"Hi, Rem." The boys look at one another, an unspoken conversation playing out.
"Why don't we go to my dorm?" Remus looks back to you, "haven't had much time for the three of us. James and Sirius have quidditch, and Peter is going to his study group."
"I'm down." Without another word, the three of you walk towards Gryffindor tower.
ᯓ★
Remus knows that Regulus tends to be a little quieter the closer to the end of the year, having been around the other Black brother for a while now. Already knowing how closed off Sirius would get when he still lived at the Black Manor, building up the walls early to protect himself when he left.
Even now, Sirius does it. Remus isn't sure if it's a habit or the fact that Regulus has been refusing to take the offer to stay at Potter Manor as well.
But you? You, he's not sure. Remus knows you and Regulus have known one another longer than he's known you, and that's never really bothered him. Remus knows all three of you love one another, and he's never felt left out. But know? Know he wishes you'd talk about your own home life.
Regulus doesn't like talking about his experiences at home; the only thing Remus knows is from old stories from Sirius. And Remus will never pry, not wanting to force either of you to do anything you don't want to.
But Merlin, he feels nearly useless right now, wishing to see the tension in your shoulders calm, wishing to see you and Regulus calm again. Wishing Regulus would take the offer to join them at Potter Manor. He wishes for both your safety more than anything.
The walk to the dorm is quite, but not peaceful. Everyone trying to stay calm and wishing someone else would say something. But no one knowing quite what to say to break the silence.
Once you do get up to the dorm, the Gryffindor's dorm, Regulus sets his bag by Remus' nightstand, you following suit, the emblems on your bags a contrast to the surrounding room. Regulus goes to find clothes he's left in Remus' closet before, while you sit on the lycans bed to slip off your shoes. Remus sits next to you, his hand resting on your lower back.
And finally, after far too long, Remus breaks the silence. "Dove..."
You glance up at him as you slip your shoes under the edge of his bed. "Yes?"
Remus sends a quick glance to Regulus, who's slipping on a long black sleeve shirt, one more comfortable than the previous Slytherin uniform. "I understand if you aren't comfortable with it, but..." He pauses for a moment, glancing back to look into your eyes, his thumb rubbing gentle strokes on your spine. "If you want to, you know you're welcome to stay at James' house."
Under his hand, Remus feels you tense, and from his peripheral, Regulus paused to listen.
"That's- that's okay, Remus. But tell James I appreciate the offer, please." You stand up far too fast for your lack of sleep, causing you to fall right back where you were sitting. Alerting both boys.
One of Remus' hands stay glued to your back, the other on your shoulder, as if your keen over. Regulus is quick to stand infront of you.
"Love, you should stay with them." Regulus' voice is full of worry. "It's better than any other option."
"You're not going." Your eyes shoot up to Regulus', far more defensive than you mean to be. Remus' hand, which was previously on your shoulder, moves down to the bed, the other hand continuing to run against your spine again.
"That's doesn't mean you shouldn't go." Regulus matches your defensiveness out of habit.
"You both should come." Remus talks before you can shoot back, hand on the bed finally moving to Regulus' arm, never seeming to catch a break.
There's a heavy pause. One that goes on for an uncomfortable amount of time.
"I'll think about it if you do." Your voice is more timid as you hold your stare at Regulus' eyes, his boring right back into you. Intense, deep, and so, so, loving.
Regulus sighs, "fine."
"Thank you, both. Seriously, you should come. James and Sirius want you guys there. Not to mention James' parents, they love new people." Remus kisses your hair line, standing up, hand leaving your back, before kissing Regulus on the lips. Both your bodies lossen.
Remus moves to change out of his uniform, and you quickly stand up to join him. Regulus' hand comes out to make sure you're steady as you grab a pair of sweats that no one truly knows who belongs to. They were probably once James, but at some point Lily stole them, and at a different point Sirius stole them back, and now so many of your friends have worn them at some point, it's probably weird.
Grabbing those and a jumper belonging to Regulus, you turn back to see Remus already curled around Regulus' back, who lays with enough room for you to join them. Both trying not to show just how eager they are for an afternoon nap.
You climb onto Remus' bed as well, using your wand to close the curtains, magically dimming the lights in the room before placing it on the bedside table. Curling into Regulus' front, leg thrown over his hip, you tuck your head into his neck. Yet your eyes remain open.
You definitely want to sleep, and you know you should, Remus is likely already asleep, knowing the bastard sleeps like the dead. Yet the knowing you could have another wretched nightmare makes you stay awake, staring over Regulus' shoulder the the golden brown hair tucked into his back, belonging to Remus, and letting the black hair belonging to Regulus slightly tickle your cheek.
"Go to sleep dove. Both of you. Please, you can't function without it." Remus' voice seems to startle both you and Regulus, both believing he was asleep, and believing the same about one another.
You pull back from Regulus neck, facing him, seeing the features of his face barely visible in the dark room. "We will, baby." Your voice is soft, as if you were telling a secret.
Remus merely hums and shift slightly before relaxing back into Regulus' back.
"Get some sleep, darling." Regulus kisses your cheek, "it's going to be okay in the end."
"I know. I know. We both need sleep; Remus is gonna kill us." Softly connecting your lips with his, slow and lazy, both smiling at the hum from Remus, confirming the empty threat you made for him.
You return to your being tucked into Regulus' neck. "'M sorry for being snappy with you." You mumble against his skin.
"You have nothing to apologies for, I understand where you're coming from darling." His hand rests on your hip and lower back, relaxing further into you and Remus, closer and closer to having a lovely nap. Of which, you join with the hopes of no nightmares.
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jeankluv · 1 day
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greetings! can you make a fluff gojo satoru story wherein on a random rest day, while smiling fondly at a busy satoru, admiring how amazing he is—being the strongest and all—you felt a pang in your heart as you thought of the big responsibility and burden he carries along with it. thinking how he never asked to be born with these heavy responsibilities wherein single mistake could cost a lot of lives. despite displaying his playful demeanor most of the time, you acknowledge and embrace his vulnerability and struggles. you praised, admire, praise, sympathized and praise him again. just gojo being reminded the reason why he loved you.
just a small plot i thought of inspired by the quote "it's his first time living too" while listening to mr. loverman, hehe. may i request kisses too. *heart hands* thank you!
I love when I get requests like this bc I love to write Gojo in this kind of situation 🥺
In fact I wrote a one shot, not long ago, similar to the request but only posted on ao3, you can check it here. But anyways, I wrote another one shot with your request, I hope you like it and enjoy it.
Let me be the strong one | Gojo Satoru
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Words: 1,3K
Summary: The higher-ups had sent him on several missions in a row, without letting him rest, without letting him teach, they had simply thrown him into the field and let him fight on his own. Now for the first time in three weeks you saw him rest.
Tags: fluff, angst, domestic fluff, establish relationship, Satoru needs a hug, Satoru best boy, gn!reader, no use of y/n, pet names (honey, my love, ‘Toru), canon universe but spoilers free
jjk materialist
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Your heart burned every time you saw him enter the door, sometimes almost falling to his knees due to the accumulated fatigue that his brain and body carried on top of him.
Gojo Satoru was the strongest, considered by many a God, someone superior. After all he was the one who had brought balance to the world with the simple birth of him. The one born with the six eyes and the infinity.
Sometimes you wish you could take it away from him, to be able to take away infinity and the six eyes, that he could live without that burden on his shoulders, without that duty that he never asked for. That he didn't have to hide his gaze behind a dark bandage. You wanted to take it away and just have it be Satoru. That he could rest and enjoy the things he liked.
You sat in the armchair that was on one side and watched how his chest rose and fell calmly and how his face was illuminated by the rays of the sun that filtered through your window, making his hair and white eyelashes stand out even more.
You loved that man so much, you were crazy in love with him and you have been ever since your high school years. You were not a special grader, you weren’t even that strong, so when your feelings for him started to surface when you were both 16, you felt scared. He was on another level, one you would never reach. At least that was the facade that Satoru showed to everyone, but as time and years passed with him, only you and him shared those sleepless nights where Satoru would knock on your door and wait for you to make room for him in your bed, to simply being hugged to each other and feeling your warmth intertwine with each other. Those moments had only caused you to fall more in love with him.
Luckily those feelings were reciprocated when you were 20 and now 8 years later they had not stopped growing.
“I can feel you observing me.” Satoru spoke with his eyes still closed.
“You should keep resting.” You whispered.
He sat on the couch and stretched himself up. “It’s okay, I had enough rest already.”
“‘Toru…” You said, feeling your heart ache.
“Honey, I’m really okay, don’t worry.” He smiled at you.
“You don’t have to be strong in front of me, you know?” You moved next to him. “Let me be the strong one for you. Let me take your pain too.” You whispered.
“You don’t have to take anything from me because there is…”
“I know you ‘Toru, and because I know you, I know you are not okay.” You cupped his face. So please let me take care of you, let me be your shield, even if it’s just for a moment.” He smiled sadly and then rested his head on your chest.
“I’m tired…” He whispered. “So tired. I love to fight and to face challenges but it’s tiring. Sometimes… I would like not to have this responsibility on me. From the moment I was born, I was already assigned a role, before I even cried for the first time, I was already the strongest, without asking for it.” You ran your fingers through his hair, trying to let him know that you were with him. “I never felt like I had a childhood, so when I entered the school and met you, Suguru and Shoko, I felt like being the strongest wasn't the important thing and that I could be me when I was around you.”
“‘Toru…” You whispered with a sad look.
“But then everything went down…” He said. “I couldn’t save everyone, I couldn’t prevent their deaths, I couldn’t…”
“Satoru, that’s not true…” You cupped his face making him look at you, his blue eyes were filled with tears. “You protected so many people and saved so many too.” With your thumb you caressed his face. “'Toru, you really are amazing, you are strong, yes, but above all that, you are a good person, full of love, who loves his students and wants the best for them.” You smiled. “But you are also human, and you need to rest and be taken care of. So please let me take care of you my love.”
Satoru didn’t say anything else, instead he laid his head on your legs and let you take care of him as you had asked him. A couple of minutes passed when you noticed how his breathing was calmer and how his eyes were completely closed and his mouth slightly open. He had fallen asleep. After carefully placing Satoru on the couch and tucking him in with a cozy blanket, you made your way to the kitchen with a purpose in mind: to prepare something special for him. Cooking had always been therapeutic for you, and in that moment, you felt it was the perfect way to show your concern and affection for him.
When the sweet aroma of the freshly baked cake filled the kitchen, you felt a wave of satisfaction and anticipation. You knew the gesture would be a pleasant surprise for Satoru, and you hoped it would bring him some joy.
Suddenly, as you focused on the oven, you felt two arms wrapping around you from behind. A warm smile spread across your face, knowing that Satoru was there with you, sharing the moment.
“You left…” He whispered.
“I wanted to make a cake for you.” You turned around to see him. “How are you feeling?” You touched his face.
“I am better.” He closed his eyes as you touched him. “You know I love you so much, right?”
“I know.” You smiled tilting your head. “And I love you too.” You kissed him.
“Thank you my love.” He kissed you back. “For understanding me the way you do and for loving me as Satoru not as Gojo Satoru, the strongest.” He smiled.
“For me, you are just my dear ‘Toru, my silly boyfriend who wants to act cool in front of his dear students, the one who loves to eat sweets and go to different places in Tokyo so he can eat all of the sweets in the world and likes to take pictures of those sweets, so then he can fill my phone with those pictures. My ‘Toru, who despite everything, always takes the responsibility, even if it’s too heavy for him, who will blame himself for things he can’t control, the one who wants to change this shitty society so the future generations can have the childhood he never had.” You smiled, getting emotional. “That’s the man I love, who loves me passionately and has never let me down.”
“Every day I am grateful for having met you and having fallen in love and continue to fall in love with you.” He hugged you, hiding his face in your neck. “Don't ever leave, please…” He whispered against your skin, before leaving a delicate kiss.
“Never…” You caress her back gently. “Oh!” You gasped when you started to smell it. “‘Toru the cake!” You stepped away from him and turned off the oven. Carefully removing it from the oven, you placed it on the counter. “It burned…” You whispered, looking at the burnt cake.
You felt Satoru approach you and place a kiss on his cheek. “Let's do another one, this time both of us together.” He smiled at you.
You nodded and kissed him, and it was at times like that where you wish you could take all of Satoru's problems, burdens and responsibilities off his shoulders, and throw them away, where they could never reach him.
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Text
Genuinely VERY confused, why is the majority of the fandom blaming Jason for the downfall of his friendship with Reyna?
i legit came across like a handful of comments today like "Reyna deserved much better than dirtbag Jason, he was such a jerk to her, choosing Piper over her and not talking to her after he came back to camp jupiter"
like?? stop over victimizing Reyna in this situation, it isnt even that serious lmao its just teenage drama, she doesn't need pity for this. both Reyna AND Jason were accountable for their crumbling friendship, it wasnt all on Jason. Reyna made PLENTY of mistakes too they are LITERAL teenagers, stuff like this is normal ffs. She didn't send a search party after Jason to look for him, she never held a memorial service for him even after the camp basically thought he was dead, she never initiated a conversation with Jason either after he came back, and practically avoided him the entire time completely (she flat out avoided eye contact with him in BOO and intentionally ONLY acknowledged Piper who was standing next to him)
Also, Reyna did literally the same thing to Jason that people are bashing him for, The fandom's problem with him is that he shouldnt have developed feelings for piper bc it "betrays his connection" with Reyna. But anyone ever thought about how Reyna developed feelings for Percy almost immediately after he came to camp while simultaneously claiming that she longed for a relationship with jason? if you put it in the fandom's logic, Reyna too, was "unloyal" to Jason, since she did not hesitate in giving a random new boy her best friend's position.
you cant tell me she wouldnt have gotten with percy if he were single. be so fr rn. but apparently its completely alright if she moved on from jason with percy, but its illegal if jason moved on from reyna with piper, right? they owed eachother absolutely nothing. They were just friends.
Jason had no reason to even think reyna liked him that way since she canonically avoided him thoroughly after the whole venus mess. so no. Just bc Reyna wasnt upfront with her feelings for him, does NOT mean he "lead" her on.
this situation isnt black or white, i think yall forget that they are both literal children
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ghouljams · 2 days
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idk why but im a major simp for the walkers even tho i barely know them
they do something to me... maybe bc i like a strong silent man who knows what he wants
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This is an old ask, but I already know it's about Fae!Keegan and Angel. Which means fae!Walker boys, and other out of town guests...
Hesh is a bear of a man, big and purposeful in his movements. There's no effort wasted, no twitch in his fingers, no breath that doesn't seem to fuel him. He's not quiet, thoughtful you would say, and all too happy to give orders when needed. He has a sturdiness to him, a softness around his middle that's starting to fade when the wedding comes around. You meet him at your friend's wedding shower, he's wearing a shirt he must have just outgrown. The buttons ever so slightly strain over his chest, the sleeves cling tight to his biceps, and he's got it unbuttoned just low enough for you to see the spirals of dark chest hair that creep between his pecs. He doesn't make you talk when you stand next to him, just gives you a once over that makes your skin prickle, and leans easily against the wall.
He offers you a cigarette. You tell him you don't smoke, but thank him for the offer. He grunts, and shields the flame of his lighter from the wind, the stick clenched between his teeth. When he pockets the zippo he pulls the cig from his lips and lets the smoke stream out of his mouth. "I've been thinkin'," He tells you --American, you note-- "it's nice to have a vice after a long nap."
Logan is funny. You take a liking to him immediately. There's something playful in his eyes that draws you in and won't let go. There's a bit of a communications barrier, you don't understand his signs, but he's almost as quick with his phone so you do that. He sticks close to your side, sits next to you at dinner, pulls chairs out for you, grabs an extra drink to offer you. You've never met someone who seems so determined to be polite, friendly even. You have no problem letting loose with him at the wedding, giggling and dancing, drinking far too much. He pulls you tight against his chest when the music starts and doesn't let you go.
He mouths your neck, pushes his hips tight against yours, boxing you in against an overgrown oak, and you tip your head with a sigh. You'd be lying to say he isn't attractive, or that you hadn't thought about this exact thing when he was being so nice to you. Really he deserves more than the polite thanks you've been giving him. Until his teeth dig into your neck more than is sexy and your lips part around a scream you can't get past the blood trickling down your throat. He drags his tongue over the wound with ragged breaths, pushing his body against you like he can't get close enough. "Knew you'd be sweet," He murmurs, though you don't feel his lips move the sound echoes through your mind, it makes your head spin until he speaks again. "Thank me for marking you," he orders. Something pulls tight in your chest, and you do.
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ktaerssoi · 3 days
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hii could you do a jealous kate fic PLEASEEE
jealously is my middle name
summary: blowing off a project for your girlfriend and her jealously.
(678)
kate martin x reader
Being a business major meant being paired up with others often, and by the middle of freshman year, most people had a go-to partner. Your go-to partner was Violet, she was pretty and super funny.
By senior year, you and she had worked on countless projects together. You guys had recently been assigned a project that would be part of your final grade, wanting to finish it early, you guys had planned to meet up the following day to get a basic layout.
there was one problem though, your girlfriend. Kate had been making up excuses for you to stay home all day, whether it was her pretending to be sick, saying that you had all semester, or just saying she would miss you so much that she would "die an agonizing death."
needless to say, she didn't want you to go. "Kate, I need to go, seriously now." you separated yourself from her, knowing that the physical contact would make you fold.
"I don't know where your problem with me hanging out with Violet is coming from, but we need to get this work done." You and Kate were standing by the front door of your guys' shared apartment, she was leaning against the wall, still trying to bargain with you.
"It's not that I had something against her, I just don't understand why you guys have to meet up so often. I mean seriously, it's like every other day." She had pushed herself off the wall, her hands finding your waist as she now stands in front of you.
you squirm at her touch, the simple action causing your cheeks to flush. "because it's our final kate, it's not like it's optional." you looked up at her, she was 6'0, so it got hard to focus sometimes when you guys were standing so close together.
she nodded, a disappointed look on her face, but you quickly saw her eyes change as a thought popped into her head. She stared down at your lips for a second, and then quickly pulled you into a kiss.
you kiss back quickly, melting into it, a pout on your face as she pulls away. "kate, you can't just do that." she gives you a confused look, but you don't miss the smirk on her face.
"do what? I can't give my girlfriend a goodbye kiss as she leaves to go hang out with another girl?" you shake your head, realizing what Kate's big problem is with Violet all of a sudden.
"you're jealous." you smile, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck as she tries to pull you closer (if it was even possible)
"I- what?" the look on her face makes you laugh, her being unable to defend herself, giving you all the proof you need. "I am not jealous."
She narrows her eyes, the tips of her ears reddening at your accusations. "you see y/n, if I was jealous, then I would be trying to get you to stay home. I'm not doing that. Leave for all I care, te ll Violet I say hi or whatever." she bites the inside of her cheek, her hands falling to her sides and off your waist, trying to act nonchalant.
"mhm, okay then, see you later k." you smile, kissing her goodbye as you go to reach for the door you don't get far and you feel her hands grab your waist once again pulling you toward her. "okay but seriously babe do you really have to start it today? wait until tomorrow at least," the end of her sentence is muffled as she barries her head into your neck, her front pressed up against your back as your hand is still on the doorknob.
"not jealous my ass."
-
you had texted Violet that something had come up, and you were unable to meet her that day, you and kate had spent the rest of the night watching movies. (along with other things)
it wouldn't be the last time you had to blow someone off for kate.
okay chat, i like dont absolutely hate this but it def isnt my fav, so ill prob rewrite it.. i was also thinking of rewriting the other kate fic bc i just don't like how i left it. also how do we feel about me writing for women's hockey?? lord kk harvey is so fine. anyway chat im actually dying sos - kate
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a66-1 · 18 hours
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HI OMG i just read all your stuff and theyre so GOOD AGHH!;!3)2):&;&??? and for any requests how about another docile!simon because hes SOO CUTE IM IN LOOVEE or a childhood!best friend 😮‍💨😮‍💨
crying and throwing up bc AHH
tysm omg..
it's giving I should do both of these
Childhood bestfriend!Simon (who's a docile soul) x Reader.
a/n: major fluff ❤️
what was a661 listening to? (Homesick by Noah Kahan, Sugar Sweet by Benson Boone, Young Blood by Noah Kahan, Like Real People Do by Hoizer)
Unedited and not proofread
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Simon and you go way back, and I mean way back. You knew this boy since he learned how to tie his shoe. (Unsurprisingly you had to teach him because what the heck are you doing to the laces?)
You lived slightly south of Manchester, and only really saw Simon when your parents met up every month or so, but you and Simon were essentially locked at the hip when you two were around each other. Pinkies bound together as you walked around the pond, watching the swans swim in the water. His smile was always so.. Soft. Never a big, excited smile. One where you knew he was comfortable.
His older brother always scoffed at the two of you, opting to stick by his parents and yours as they sat on a bench, as they talked amongst themself. Simon Unhooked his pinkie from yours as he bent by a few rocks, looking through them.
"Hey, come 'ere." He gestured you over. You crouched next to him. He picked a few weed flowers, and plopped on the ground to tie the bottoms together. When he was done, he handed them to you.
"There! For you. They're really pretty." He smiled softly, as you took them. You laughed quietly, and hugged him.
"Thank you, Si." You said quietly, before pecking his cheek. You heard your mom yell at you to get your hands off eachother, as you two are only 8 and 10.
You two separate, and walk back over to your parents. Simon had a pink hue to his cheeks, but nothing he couldn't not excuse as sunburn.
Once you got in your rickety car back to your house, it's not like you knew you'd never see him again. You were packed and already on the plane 3 weeks later.
The absolute meltdown you had in the airport had your mom threatening to ductape your mouth shut, and you're pretty sure you cried all the way to America.
-
You lift your head, noticing your spot in line has moved up, again. You shift forward, a basket of food in your arms. You got your own places little over a year ago. Freedom feels.. Great, actually, nobody is on your ass and you can freely drive anywhere without a 'where tf are you??' text.
You get to the register, and give a polite nod and 'I'm good, and you?' Your accent still catches a few people off guard. Fucking hell, this state is absolute shit sometimes. Just because some people aren't the same as you, you don't gotta be weird about it-
It's not even like it's heavy, it's just slightly there. Growing up with the most British parents in a very not British town has got your accent all odd, but if anyone from Manchester heard you, they might be able to decipher you.
You take your bags and walk to your car, loading it. Just one more thing in the list... Ah, the pet shop. The place isn't far, so you lock your car and start your walk on the way there.
A few Military officers stand a block away, across the street. They don't look quite American, in all actuality, isn't that the flag from-
You abruptly run into someone. Fuck. God, why don't you keep your eyes open every once in a while? You take a step back, rubbing your nose. Crap, they had a hard fucking chest, because your nose feels half broken.
"My bad, I'm so sorry-" You glance up to notice an military officer. You stand straighter, noticing the Union Jack flag. The guy has gear on, and a.. Ghost mask? A bavaclava, I'm pretty sure, and some eye black.
"It's.." He squints, pausing, before continuing, "Fine. It's fine."
That's an accent if you've heard one. God, it's familiar as crap, you know you've heard it before. Which parents had that accent again? Sounds like.. Jack's parents were more west...
"You uh.. You from here?" He gruffly asks, "Can tell you got an accent."
You shake your head, "I was born in Manchester, moved when I was 8, give or take."
His eyes widen this time, before cursing. He turns to the group of men further down, and throws a hand signal. They nod, and continued a conversation they were having.
"Oh? I had a friand who uh.. Who.." He hesitated, but he slipped off his mask.
"Who did that too."
You stared doe eyed at him. "Simon?"
That blonde hair is impossible to forget. You choke on a laugh, before grabbing his face. His nose is definitely different, but it looks like shits been broken.
"Holy shit, it's you." He smiled. Fucking hell, his smile.
"Jesus! What're you doing here, I mean- I-I never thought we'd-" You cut yourself off with a laugh, before hugging him tightly, your hands curling into his hair. He swiftly hugged back, rocking you softly. Goddammit, he looks good.
Good, good.
"Oh lovie, you can't understand how happy I am, I remember how you left and.." He stares at you quietly, and frowned. "Never really made another friend like you again."
That made you frown, "Si, you should've made friends! I was just the example!" You throw in a smile, to show him your joking.
You both find yourself laughing together, your hands back on his cheek, his hands on your hips. And.. Some reason naturally, you drifted closer and.. Kissed. Neither of you hesitated, it was swift and you kept his head against yours, and you made sure the kiss was good.
He was good.
You both pulled away, a soft look shared among you too.
"Are we gonna brush past that, or.." He laughed, and hugged you again, swinging you around once. You yelped, and hit his shoulder.
"Put me down!!" You squealed, laughing.
Price glanced over to the two of you, Soap turning as well.
"Tha' there mus' be tha' Bonnie he mentions," Soap nods slightly, smiling for his friend.
"Sure is. I knew he'd take this mission cuz' o' her." Price chuckled softly.
You carded through his hair softly, looking in his eyes.
"I missed you, Si."
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AHH THE IINSPO FOR THIS HAD ME SENT WRITING THIS.
Never seen something like this so I feel accomplished not having a clue how to keep going.
TYSM FOR THE SUPPORT!!
Request to get more fun stories like this!
Bye babes!
-a661
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zqcky01 · 3 days
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I READ SOME OF UR STONE X READER STORIES AND I LOV EMMMM^^
May I request a stone x rich reader where stone n reader r close friends/like each other,and the reader lets Stone in their house(guess their parents r on vacation or smth LMAO) bc stone was bein chased by the police after he was caught pickpocketing/robbing,,,,,and they just wait till the police leaves(maybe the police even knocks on reader's door n the reader lies to the police that they haven't seen seen any hobos running around,,,MAYBE THE POLICE EVEN INSPECTS THE HOUSE N STONE IS TRYIN TO HIDE IN READER'S APARTMENT???MAYBE PRETENDS TO BE A LAMP LMFAOOO)
but basically Stone n reader just talking in reader's place,,,,
SRY IF ITS TOO MUCH,,,UUWAAAAAAAAAHHH
hope u'll have a gr8 day/night:3
YOU BROUGHT THE POLICE TO MY HOUSE
Stone x Rich! Reader
a/n: HELP I CAN SEE HIM BEING A LAMP AND STILL NOT GETTING CAUGHT 💀💀😭
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“Stone?” You opened the door, confused. Stone was standing on the other side, holding a bag full of just random shit he had just stolen. “Hey.” He said, looking around before he walked passes you. “I—okay…” You sighed, before shutting the door. “What brings you here today?” You asked, watching him laid down on your couch. “Oh, I’m running from the police.” Stone said as he kicked off his shoes.
“Again?!” “Yeah…the lady caught me. She was super pissed.” Stone said as he light his cigarette. “Your parents not home?” He asked as he held his cigarette between his fingers. “Nope, they’re on some trip.” You sighed leaning over the couch. “If you bring the police to my house I will kill you.” You said, pointing your finger at him, your eyebrows furrowed.
“Yeah yeah…I doubt they would come look over here.” Stone said as he got more comfy on your couch. “What did you even steal anyways?” You asked, titling your head to the side. “A few bracelets, not sure why the lady was literally having a stroke.” He grumbled, rolling his eyes.
“How long are your parents out of town?” Stone asked, looking up at you, raising an eyebrow. “Two weeks.” You said, walking over and sitting in a chair next to the couch. “For their jobs…which is lame.” You sighed, leaning back against the back of the chair. “But it just means you can probably stay here, along with Vinnie and Skipp.” Stone nodded, puffing out smoke from his lips. “Thanks. It’s been getting chilly at night. Maybe you could warm me up.” “STONE!” “I’m kidding…kinda.”
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The two of you talked for the next thirty minutes, before hearing a loud knock on the door. “Ramshackle police open up!” A male voice yelled from the other side of the front door. You and Stone jumped.
“Really?!” You whispered yelled to Stone, who only groaned. “Damn it…” He muttered as he slowly sat up, running his fingers through his hair. “Go—hide or something!” You said, before you stood up and walked to the front door.
You opened it, being greeted by over ten officers. You gulped. “Officers—what can I do for you?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowed. “Good day, we have had several reports of people being robbed today. And we have a reason to believe that you are hiding the suspect in your home.” One officer said, his hands resting on his hips.
“Oh my, no not at all sir.” You gasped, placing your hand over your chest. “I’m alone here, no one else is here.” You said, shaking your head. “May we just check?” Another officer spoke up. “Don’t you need a—“ The officers didn’t care for an answer, only shoving themselves into your home. “I—okay then.” You grumbled frowning. You watched as the officers looked around the place. Your eyes landed on Stone, who was standing in the corner of your living room with a lamp shade over his head. You face palmed, shaking your head. “Fucking idiot…”
You noticed the officers noticed him, but they didn’t say anything. “Hah! No idiot would ever be a lamp.” One officer chuckled as he stared at Stone, not realizing it was a whole person. “Yeah, someone stupid would believe that.”
“How did you get jobs…let alone get this far in life.” You muttered, leaning against your couch.
After ten minutes, the officers left. “Stone. How do you do it?” You asked, lifting the lamp shade off of his head. He had a smug grin on his face. “No idea.”
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