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#and they quickly find out I know like 15 words total
footieridiculosity · 8 months
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Listen I know Spain has its problems (sociopolitically in particular as a concern to me) but goddamn if I don’t have the best time on every stay. Was thinking about this earlier in the week, have I ever had a bad day in Spain? Even one minute where I wasn’t enjoying myself? And I couldn’t recall a thing 😭
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eddiessluttywaist · 1 year
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as if
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AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.
summary: eddie taunts reader daily, but… she kinda likes it? just never does anything about it. not until she has to tutor him, anyway.
pairing: bully!mean!perv!eddie munson x perv!fem reader
word count: 7,901 words
content/warnings: swearing, some angst at the beginning kinda, mention of death (barb), SMUT MDNI (y/n is 18), bully!eddie, mean!eddie, perv!eddie, bully kink (?), dominating, arguing, breeding kink, hate sex, brief masturbation mentions, mocking, teasing, anxiety kinda, spitting, invasion of privacy (eddie goes through her things), eddie’s a dirty lil pantie stealer and sniffer, y/n is a c*m sl*t, bulge kink(?), dacryphilia, groping, choking, daddy kink if you squint real hard, mentions of virginity (y/n is not a virgin), pet names (doll face, princess), degradation (use of slut). i think that’s all pls tell me if i miss anything!
a/n: i have to say tbh i don’t see eddie ever being a bully so this is technically like an au!eddie?…but also… uhhhh very hot. makes my brain wiggle with heat waves so here we are. hope you like it! <3
part two - part three
*
As if.
It’s a simple statement, really, and you meant no harm when you said it. It was just something to be said… that didn’t mean he didn’t hear it though.
That also didn’t mean it didn’t tick him off.
You were surprisingly pretty to be in the geek group, but in the cruel and tyrannical world of high school girls..? Alas, no amount of lip gloss or cute skirts could free you of the fact that you were smart. Not only smart, but a geek. A nerd—who was shy around most—and you got along with nearly all of the teachers because of how well-behaved and intelligent you were. And, on occasion—although you always tried your best to not come off this way—a bit of a know-it-all.
That was the final nail in your coffin, really. Correcting Carol Perkins in American History in front of everyone back in your freshman year. (Her sophomore year and already irritable about having to take a freshman course 2 years in a row). You meant well, but she had it out for you ever since. The tyrant, as it was, made it entirely impossible for you to make your way up the food chain.
So in your sophomore year of high school, back in Autumn of ‘83, you were among the peasants just like him—even as a senior (for the first time). He took a quiet interest in you. You were cute and soft-spoken. You were a sophomore, though, and the fact that you were 15 at the time made the 17 year old scrunch up his nose whenever he remembered. He could still look, though, right? There was no harm in that…
Nancy and Barb took notice of it all pretty quickly. The way that the senior would scan over your outfits everyday. The way that he might’ve smirked a little if you had to bend over to pick something up, simply staring at your behind rather than coming over to get your things for you. The pair would exchange glances that you were adorably unaware of, over his attention that you were also so endearingly oblivious to. One day, they finally burst over it in the hallway, and he overheard.
“I think a senior likes you.” Nancy teased, gripping her Geometry textbook to her chest.
“What?” You had let out a slight laugh, digging through you locker. “What makes you say that?”
“Oh my god, seriously?” Barb interjected. “Aren’t you supposed to be smart? Observant?”
You were all wide-eyed over that, pouty lips opening and then closing as you struggled to find your words before finally landing on a frustrated huff and a simple “Shut up.”
“He stares at you all the time.” Nancy pushed with a teasing smile.
“Like you can talk.” You teased, slamming your locker shut before resting your back against it. “Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington is totally all over you.” You smirked at the way her face instantly heated up.
“I- He- It’s not like that.” She insisted, completely flustered. And while Barb agreed with you, she wasn’t interested in letting you direct the conversation elsewhere.
“Besides he’s just a Junior. The guy who likes you is a Senior.” Nancy tacked on.
“Like there’s really that big of a difference?” You raised a brow.
“There is.” Barb scoffs.
“Well then if it’s such a huge deal… can’t you just tell me who it is?”
“You seriously don’t know?” Barb questioned and the ginger-brunette pair tilted their heads while they looked at you with a sort of exasperated disbelief. You just gave them that wide eyed look again and shrugged your shoulders.
Barb broke first with a scoff and a bright smile. “Eddie Munson. He stares at you all the time.”
Eddie Munson. He wasn’t popular by any means, but he was still a Senior. He was still attractive to you, and could still make an underclassmen blush if he gave them any attention simply because he was older and a little dangerous. He just didn’t show any interest in any of the other younger students, just a little curiosity towards you.
“Eddie Munson?” You had laughed a little, which made him furrow his brows as he listened in just around the corner of the hall at his own locker. You were being dismissive out of nerves, not out of any sort of malicious intent, but that’s not how he took your tone. After all, he was a cynical man.
“As if.”
*
After that he was a bit bitter towards you. Then he was a little mean. And then he was just plain cruel. He was an asshole. He was a bully.
Since his interest being pointed out to you, you occasionally glanced over at him to see if he really was staring. But he either acted like you didn’t exist, or whenever his gaze did meet yours the corners of his lips turned down and his brow frowned with disgust before looking elsewhere.
When Barb went missing, you and Nancy were temporarily joined at the hip in your efforts to figure out what happened. Then one day Nancy went cold on you. Started making excuses and hardly speaking to you otherwise. You didn’t understand, finding yourself completely alone as you scattered “Missing Person” posters all over Hawkins.
You had no idea what happened with Barb at the time and still had no clue what happened with your friendship with Nance to this very day. Maybe the loss was too much. Maybe Nancy couldn’t handle the reminder of your perfect trio. She was always closer to Barb than you. Maybe Barb missing and then turning up dead made it too difficult for her to face you. Maybe she was all caught up in two guys being completely obsessed with her, which admittedly made you a little jealous.
Soon enough you seemed to be completely off one another’s radars. It made high school even lonelier for you. You eventually found some new friends in other corners of the “Smart Kids” lunch table, but it was never like it was with Nancy and Barb.
So by the time he started getting a little mean, there wasn’t really anyone to protect you. Your new friends were skittish around the metalhead. Nance and Barb would’ve stood up for you once, but that support system was obliterated back in ‘83.
So when he shoved past you in the halls later in your sophomore year, no one gave it any thought. When he was pulling your hair in your Junior year then acting all innocent when you turned around to confront him, still no one cared. Now in your Senior year—and him in his third—whenever you thought he couldn’t be worse, he proved you wrong and did so with a devilish grin.
He pulled your hair. He tripped you. He stood behind you in line at lunch and would flip up the back of your skirt. He smacked your books out of your hands. He openly mocked you while leaning back in his chair at lunch with that smug look on his face. He mimicked your contributions in class under his breath, knowing you’d hear him and trip over your words. He snuck filthy messages into your locker that made your face burn with embarrassment and disgust—disgust for him and for the way his perverted words made your thighs press together. He would speed up whenever you were walking or biking home just to scare the shit out of you. He would take any opportunity to shove you or throw things at you or press his body up against yours in a derisive and vulgar manner—especially in gym class. He would “playfully” hump you from behind and nearly knock you over whenever you bent over and there was no teacher paying attention. Or spank you. Or pinch your ass.
He was horrible. Disgusting. Obnoxious. Crude. Vile. He made you go home with tears in your eyes most days, but the worst part was how much you liked the attention. You hated yourself for it. You wished you were running to the nearest adult to tell them every last thing he did to you. You wished you were standing up to him and calling him a disgusting pig in front of everyone which surely would’ve pulled out some “Ooo”s and maybe even some of the Seniors that hated him would’ve joined in. Maybe even had your back, even if it was temporary.
But you didn’t because by now when he pulled your hair, you had to refrain from whimpering or moaning. When he tripped you, you thought of the things he could do to you now you were already on your hands and knees. When he flipped up your skirt you always gasped and shoved him away, secretly hoping he’d do it again—even starting to wear only your cutest pairs of panties to school. When he smacked your books out of your hands, you actually liked that it was him causing you to bend over or get on your knees to collect your things again. When he decided to mock you from over at his spot at lunch, you got butterflies from the way he said your name and the way his dimples sunk into his cheeks. When he mimicked you in class, you tripped over your words because his voice and tangible presence got you all flustered and hot. When you got to your locker, you secretly hoped to see the torn off corner of some notebook page flutter onto the floor with the most obscene words. When he sped up to scare you, you thought about screaming something so bold at him that he would screech to a halt and reverse before telling you to get in his van, now.
You liked when he threw things at you like balled up paper to your cheek in class or a basketball to your side in gym. You liked when he shoved you or pressed against you because in his attempts to intimidate you with his touch and his proximity, it made your knees weak. You liked how he pinched your ass or gave it a little smack when you bent over and your teacher wasn’t looking. And you loved when he would thrust up against you whenever you were bent over and there was no teacher around at all, because his bulge pressed up against you (even while he was laughing devilishly) made you ache.
He was so utterly horrible to you, and yet when you found yourself grinding on your hand at night on top of your pink, white and yellow quilt—you were thinking about him and how mean he was. You were thinking about how mean he would be as he fucked you. Taunting you and teasing you and mocking you. You spasmed around your fingers and choked down your cries at the thought of him bullying your cunt.
It was all a fantasy, though. He never interacted with you longer than a few seconds, and was always with him in control. If you walked up to him and told him you wanted him to fuck you like the bully he was, he probably would’ve died laughing right before your eyes and told everyone he knew about your embarrassing lust for the guy who made your life a living hell. But now you were being cornered into spending time with him, and being faced with a real-life scenario where you were together made your palms sweat.
“I know he’s a difficult young man, but if you tutor him I’ll figure something out with the principal. Some sort of extra credit maybe.”
“There’s no one else that could tutor him?” You choked out, nerves on edge. Ms. O’Donnell gave you a sympathetic smile and shook her head.
“All busy.”
Busy, my ass you wanted to huff out. They were probably all avoiding him like the plague. O’Donnell was desperate to get his grade up and get him out of the damn school, which you didn’t blame her for, but god… why you?
“Okay…” You relented, a sad twitch for a smile when she sighed in relief and thanked you incessantly.
“I’ve already spoken to him about needing a tutor, I’ll let him know the good news, okay?”
You nodded with a meek “okay,” and tried to go on with the rest of your day as if you weren’t wracked with fear, excitement, concern over your excitement. You were on edge all day, and nearly jumped out of you seat when you were called to the office over the speakers about 5 minutes to the end of your last class. You swallowed anxiously, collecting your things and trying to ignore the “ooo”s over you being summoned to the principal’s office—assuming you were in trouble.
You trudged towards your destination, pausing when you spotted him slack in one of the chairs by the front desk that he frequented more than anyone else. You considered running in the opposite direction and making up some lie to Ms. O’Donnell the next day, but then Mrs. White beamed at you after happening to glance away from her clunky typewriter.
“Miss Y/L/N! Come on in, dear.” She spoke cheerfully in a way that went through you sideways. Eddie’s eyes shot up to you, smirking around the fingernail he was chewing at and clearly considering spitting it at you if Mrs. White hadn’t been paying attention. You toyed with the ends of your sleeves anxiously, listening to Mrs. White discuss the details Ms. O’Donnell had ready. What topics to go over (which was just about everything). How many times per week she wanted you to tutor him (at least once/week). The only thing left out was when and where.
“Oh that’s up to you two, hon.” She chirped. “Just compare your schedules.”
“It’s not in school? With a teacher around?” You questioned anxiously, but she was oblivious to your worries.
“Nope, no need for supervision. We like to give the tutors space from the teachers while they work with others, we find that the students that need help take to that better.”
“Sure do.” Eddie spoke up, and you nearly flinched at how close he sounded. You glanced over and he must’ve just gotten out of the hard plastic chair cause he was slightly leaned back to give his body a stretch causing his chest to puff out a little, his hands moving to rest by his hips as he tugged his jeans up.
“What? Scared of me ‘r somethin’?” He whispered playfully, a hand moving up to rest over his heart as he feigned offense before his act melted away to show his usual smirk. He winked at you, and you swallowed nervously as you looked back at Mrs. White again who was blissfully unaware of his malevolence.
“So here you go… those worksheets and… a time sheet.” The woman grinned as she placed the last paper on top before sliding everything over. “You just have to add the dates that you study together, and you both have to sign each time. Ms. O’Donnell said writing a quick synopsis of what you went over would be nice too, but not necessary. The most important thing is seeing a difference in Mr. Munson’s grades.”
“Sounds good to me, Pam.” Eddie smiled at Mrs. White whose sunny demeanor sunk into a more serious expression while you put the papers away neatly in one of your folders.
“What have we talked about, Mr. Munson? Use my first name again and you’ll find your butt in detention this Saturday for such disrespect. Again.”
He puts his hands up as if apologizing for his actions, but he was still grinning ear to ear. Mrs. White eyed him with a tight lipped scowl, then looked at you.
“Good luck.”
You were gonna need it.
*
The ride to your house in his rusty van was surprisingly quiet beyond his music. You were on edge which he enjoyed like always, but he was clearly saving the torment for when he was inside your home. You wished your parents were home, even if they were tucked away in another room, but they were both gone for the weekend to attend your Aunt’s wedding. Not that you’d let him know that.
“We’ll be studying in the dining room. And no funny business. My dad’s in his office and he doesn’t like being disturbed while he’s working.” You lied seamlessly, making your way over to the dining table, Eddie lazily sauntering along.
“Oo does daddy have a temper?” He teased in a whisper. “Gonna come out and spank you if you bother him too much?”
He gave you a mocking pout and your face scrunched up with irritation.
“Just sit so we can get this over with.”
“I’m sorry are you under the false impression that you’re in charge here, doll face?” He questioned, keeping his anger mostly disguised by his inquisitive tone.
“Well, I’m the tutor so-“ You scoff out, avoiding looking at him as you pulled all of your study materials from your bag.
“Yeah and that means something to me because…?” He drew out his last word as he spun on his heels and casually walked away.
“I- what-“ You sputtered. “What are you doing?”
“You know it’s awfully rude to have a guest and not give them a tour of the place.” He spoke casually, grabbing the ends of picture frames hanging on the walls to get a better look at them before letting them drop back again. You were hot on his heels, fixing every frame he left crooked. He paused at a picture of you from camp in a bikini with some of the friends you made that summer, smug and sucking at his teeth a little as he eyed the image of you.
“Real cute…still got it?” He looked over at you, his hair shifting over his shoulder as he eyed you. “Wanna model it for me? Make all this worth my while?”
Your cheeks were starting to turn pink.
“We have to study.”
“Eh.” He shrugs, and looks over to spot the staircase behind him. He slunk around the corner and made his way up the carpeted steps.
“Hey- hey! You’re not allowed up there!” You shout after him, rushing to follow after him. He was already on the second floor when he turned and shushed you.
“Don’t wanna make daddy angry, right? He’s hard at work if I’m remembering correctly.” He whispered with a joking concern for your father’s focus who wasn’t even here, and you worried he knew that. He continued on along the hallway and you stayed behind him, wishing there was something you could do to get him to stop. He opened doors along the way, inspecting the interior with a mild curiosity. The upstairs bathroom. Your parent’s room. The spare bedroom. Then-
“Ah, here we are.” Your bedroom at the end of the hall.
“Please get out of my room.” You pleaded, but he continued on his quest. He looked at the makeup on your vanity, toppling some of the products over like a careless cat before moving on. He toyed with any photos in your room, sniffed at the perfume bottles on your dresser.
“Eddie-“ You started, clenching your jaw as he found the perfume you wore the most often and sprayed some of it on the crotch of his jeans. Then he just kept a hold on it as he waltzed around your room, spraying it several times just to waste your favorite product.
“That’s rude.” You spoke up, your lips pouting slightly. He snickered at your comment, how you sounded like a wronged child.
“Aw well if you need to touch up your perfume at all, you know where to get it.” He grinned, pointing to his groin before continuing to go through your things. The concept was strange but still made you clench simply from the thought of having to rub at his bulge to get something you wanted. He didn’t waste that much of your fragrance, but the idea was still burning in your mind.
He muttered disapproving comments at the posters on your walls and the cassettes he rummaged through until he got bored. You were nervous about interfering even as he invaded your privacy, until he was opening your top drawer to go through your panties and bras.
“Hey! That’s too far!” You gasp, rushing over to slam the drawer closed again. He shoved you back and opened it again.
“Quit being so fucking uptight.”
“Quit going through things that don’t belong to you!” You talked back which was still surprising him every time you did, but certainly didn’t let it show.
“Yeah well quit pissing me off before I put you in your fucking place.” He seethes, giving you an angry warning look that felt like fire all over you. You wanted to cry, to tell him to stop being so mean to you, but it would be useless. You’d just end up feeling pathetic as he laughed over your misery. You just had to stand there and watch as he kept going through your underwear drawer.
“Ooh, cute. I don’t think I’ve seen these yet.” He clicked his tongue and blew out an impressed breath as he held up a black lacy number. “‘d love to leave some stains on these for you, doll face.”
“You’re disgusting.” You blurt out, but the thought of his cum spurting onto your new pair of panties made you feel warm. He smirked at your frustration, tucking the underwear into his pocket.
“Those are new!”
He shrugs, shoving the drawer closed again with enough careless force to knock over a picture frame perched on top. He doesn’t seem to care until he’s spinning around with his finger pointed at you and that wicked look on his face.
“You know what, though? You bring up a great point.” He tugs the lace from his pocket and holds it up to his nose before letting out a disappointed sigh. “Now that’s a problem. Still smell like whatever cutesy store you got ‘em from.”
You have a moment of hope that he’s trying to be nice and provide an opportunity to give them back to you, even if he’s going about it in a dirty way. But that doesn’t last long, even when he’s tossing them back to you.
“Why don’t you put ‘m on for me, huh? Then when you give ‘em to me on my way out I’ll have proof of how fucking wet I get you.” He spoke so smoothly as he got closer to you, that it almost blanketed the filth of his words as something soft or even sweet.
“As if.” You scoff out in a huff, and there’s a fury to his gaze that you don’t understand.
“Yeah… as if.” He murmurs darkly, getting closer to you. You swallow nervously and take a step back. “Cause fuck me, right? I’m just some good-for-nothing asshole who you wouldn’t give the time of day. Not a priss like you.”
“I-I’m not a-“
“Oh dad!” He’s suddenly shouting at the top of his lungs in a sing-song manner, his body whipped around to face your doorway, and your eyes go wide.
“Stop-“
“Hey! I just wanna meet Mr. Y/L/N! Spending time with your lovely daughter!” He spoke with a passionate respect that you knew was coming from a hateful place. He had gone to your doorframe and was listening for any kind of response. A verbal acknowledgement. The sound of steps or creaking floorboards to tell him there was actually going to be someone to confront him.
His grin became devious as he went to the steps again. “Hello?” He calls, dragging out that last vowel.
“Will you quit it!” You hiss, tears prickling at your eyes now at the thought of him realizing you were all alone. Just you and him. And that you had lied to him.
He was turning around, sure now that the only people in this house were you and him. His dimples were pushing into his cheeks again as he sucked at his teeth, approaching you at the doorway to your bedroom like a cocky killer. The kind that you saw in horror movies that knew they had their prey cornered and could have some fun with it.
Out of nerves and a need to keep a barrier between the two of you, you took a quick step back and went to slam your door shut so you could lock it, but he got there in time to stop in with an outstretched arm. He pushed it open so harshly that you were sure there would be a dent in your wall where the doorknob was forced into it.
God, you couldn’t stand the way he looked right now. So proud. So smug. That shit-eating grin that told you he knew he was winning. That fury from before still lingering. He noticed the gloss to your eyes and tuts as a mocking pout reaches his lips.
“Upset about somethin’, doll? Someone got you all worked up?”
You huff out your nose, your lips screwed into a frown and your eyes still stinging with unshed tears.
“You’re so… so… mean! I hate you!” You shout, and without even realizing it you had stomped your foot at your last statement. It makes him pause, his expression unreadable for a moment as he considers everything until it all lands on amusement. He crosses his arms over his chest, grin wild and his hair flowing with him as he tilts his head with intrigue.
“Did you just stomp your foot at me, princess?” He teases, and your face feels so hot you wonder if he can see the flush of pink even through your foundation. He can. You refuse to answer him, fighting back the urge to fully cry in front of him. He’s getting closer though until he’s brushing up against you and looking down at you. God, he’s so warm.
“Aw… such a sensitive girl. Look at you.” He murmurs as he continues backing you two up until you’re pressed against the wall, one of those posters he disapproved of crinkling against your hair. He’s making fun of you like always but there’s a softness around the edges of his words. Blurred by a desire to do just about anything to you. He reaches his hand up to drag the pad of his thumb over your pouty lower lip before bringing his hand down to grasp you by your chin.
“Bet your pussy’s just as responsive as the rest of ya, huh?” He whispers as he makes you look up at him. Your nostrils flare momentarily and you keep looking up at him but you still won’t speak and you still won’t let those tears fall.
“I bet your cunt is just as weepy. All hot and wet when I’m fucking you into shape.”
You bite the inside of your cheek to refrain from whimpering or letting your lips part for a soft sigh. Anything that would confirm how badly you want him to figure out just how right he is. But then his anger flares back up as he’s gripping your jaw now, squeezing just enough to make it uncomfortable.
“Speak when you’re spoken to.” He demands in a low voice with a sort of growl to it that makes your knees weak. You part your lips as you consider answering him like you’re told, and he raises his brows while waiting. Then, in a brazen defiance, you spit in his face instead.
He’s so solid it’s almost like he doesn’t care. Not a flinch or a crack in his demeanor. Then he’s moving his hand from your jaw to your throat and gripping onto it enough that you gasp.
“I’ve been spat on my whole fucking life, you think that’s gonna make a difference here, princess? Think that’s gonna make me respect you? Think you’re brave?”
Your hands reach up to rest over his on your neck, a mewl vibrating from the back of your throat. He leans in closer to your face, your lips parting wider as he tightens his grip.
“It just makes me think you’re stupid.” He finishes before spitting directly into your open mouth. He’s releasing you from his grip right after, wiping your saliva from his cheek while you catch your breath. A soft moan escapes you before you can keep it at bay and his inflated ego is tangible. He’s eyeing you with a sort of amazed intrigue that pulls him back to you, his arms lifting to place his hands on the wall on either side of your head.
“You like it, don’t you?” He laughs and you shake your head furiously, but he isn’t buying it. “You could’ve gotten my ass suspended—hell, even expelled—ages ago. And yet…?”
“I just felt bad that you’re such a fucking idiot.“
“Dirty girl.” He hisses inward through his teeth as if burned by your words, but you were just egging him on.
“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” He wondered in a soft tone, hand back to your jaw as you stayed quiet. “Will you kiss daddy with that mouth?” He added with a lazy grin, exuding dominance and arrogance.
You became a little slack jawed at the implication, and he was on you. Hand still on your jaw, he pressed his lips to yours. You feigned protest at first with a few kicks and smacks, but then he had your wrists pinned against the wall and you sunk into the kiss. He kept you pinned for a few moments, until he was sure you were relaxed. He dropped his hands down to completely engulf your waist in his arms, and keep you pressed against him. The kiss was filthy with anger-fueled lust and slips of moans on your end and grunts from his.
“I hate you.” You whispered in between kisses, his hands moving to grip your ass now.
“Yeah you do.” He chuckled proudly against your lips before beginning to trail his lips down your jaw to your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed, hands settled on his muscular back as he sucked and bit at your neck, messy hair tickling you. More sounds slipped from you with no attempt to hold them back, a teary whimper hanging on your lips after he bit down on your neck hard enough to pull a yelp from you.
“Gonna mark you all up…” He muttered against your skin, making your head swirl.
“Gonna have you walking into school and have everyone know who you belong to.” He pulled back now, breathless and his full lips all pink with attention. His eyes were dark with lust, and it all made you whimper. The sound made him laugh in disbelief.
“Yeah? Such a slut. Bet you can’t wait to walk in with my hickeys all over you. Might even fuck you in the back of my van beforehand. Make you go to class full of my cum.”
You almost can’t believe him or yourself as you nod your head dumbly with a desperate pout. He groans at the sight and pulls you to him again, his lips back on yours as his hands reach down to hook under your thighs and lift you up. You’re quick to wrap your legs around his waist, a soft cry escaping when he starts grinding against you. He’s so hard and feels so pressed into his jeans, you’re both afraid and alight at the thought of just how big he probably is.
Eddie made his way over towards your bed until his legs made contact with your bed frame. He pulled away from the kiss to drop you on the bed carelessly. You lifted your torso up by digging your elbows back into your mattress, legs bent up at the knee and parted for him while you watched him undo his belt. He noticed you staring, and his gaze traveled along your form. Your knit sweater. Your pleated skirt.
“Take that shit off.” He said with a slight jut of his chin in the direction of your top, hands paused at the waist of his jeans and boxers. You hesitated at first, mostly at his hesitation to pull down his bottoms, but also out of nerves that your body wouldn’t be good enough. He made fun of you for just about everything. Surely he would tease you for that too.
“Did I fucking stutter?” His voice rose just a touch, his expression showing his impatience. At that your eyes went a bit wide again, and you lifted your sweater over your head and then the t-shirt you had on underneath. His hand was under his undone jeans, palming himself through his boxers as he looked over your naked torso.
“Bra too.” He murmured, and your nerves subsided from the way he looked at you. It was all hunger and lust and some impatience, but that was common. But no mockery. He wasn’t gearing up to make fun of your body cause he’s been waiting to see it. It was even better than he imagined, and he stopped a groan in his throat when you unclasped your bra and put it off to the side.
“Fuck…” He sighed out, squeezing his hard cock in his fist. You arched your back, which he initially enjoyed, until he realized your hand was moving to unzip the back of your skirt.
“Hey.” His harsh tone broke through, his free hand slapping your thigh. “Did I say take the skirt off?”
Your lips parted, and he jerked his head forward with a wide, frustrated gaze. It was as if he was saying “Hello? Earth to Y/N?”
He rolled his eyes as you shook your head no, and moved your hands away. He muttered under his breath and settled himself between your legs before deciding you weren’t close enough. His hands grasped your thighs to pull you closer, a surprised giggle bubbling in your chest from the action. He didn’t acknowledge it because he was trying to not let it show that it made him want to smirk. Just like when you get all teary-eyed. Or stomp your feet. Or finally get enough nerve to talk back. Even getting a giggle out of you made him smug, despite the fact that he had only ever seemed to enjoy making you miserable.
Eddie flips your skirt up onto your stomach, licking his lips at the sight of the light blue cotton panties he had already seen in the lunch line today. He finally tugged his jeans and boxers down below his balls, and started pumping his dick in his hand. Your nerves lit up at the sight of it—thick and with a bit of a curve to it. You wanted to see more of him, but the likelihood of that was slim to none. He enjoyed the control he had in this relationship, and that meant he liked having you almost completely naked in front of him while he was practically still dressed. He smirked as pre-cum beaded up on his tip and let it drip onto the fabric of your underwear. He dipped down to drag his tip along your covered slit to make a mess of your panties with his pre-cum. You inhaled sharply at the feeling, biting the inside of your lip whenever he nudged your clit.
“I like these panties…” You complained, knowing how much better it would be for him to ruin a pair of underwear you love.
“Aw…” He tutted, leaning over you as he mimicked the pout on your lips. “Don’t tell me that cause then I might have to cum all over them. ‘N I thought you wanted it inside.”
You mewled again, nodding your head which he mimicked too. The little shake of your head, the sound you made.
“Such a whiny, needy girl.” He said as if he cared. He hooked a finger under your panties and tugged at them, fighting the fabric over your legs one handed before holding them up to his nose. His eyes were trained on the sight of your sopping pussy as he breathed in, his cock twitching in his fist. He cursed under his breath, only pulling the fisted cloth away to stuff into his back pocket. His now free hand moved forward to drag his fingers through your slit, proud to feel how soaked and puffy you were already.
“You a virgin, doll?” He purred, tilting his head with a sickeningly sweet grin, the curled corners of his lips devilish. It was saccharine and mean. He figured you’d say yes because no one at school seemed to want you, but then you shook your head.
You lost your virginity at that summer camp you were at in the picture he was ogling earlier. It was awkward and felt strange, and you didn’t have much experience beyond that, but you weren’t a virgin. You thought he’d like you better this way anyways, already ready for him to fuck, but it ticked him off.
“No?” He asked, pushing two thick fingers into your cunt and making you gasp. The pressure on that sweet spot right at your entrance was buzzing with pleasure, but it still ached a little. “Guess you’re the little slut I always thought you were, hm?”
He was pushing his fingers in deep and curling them up into that spongy spot that made you whine and your thighs tremble.
“Who is he?” Eddie urged, his expression back to the irritation you were familiar with. You weren’t answering, all of your focus on his thick fingers and the rings that adorned them pinching the edge of your entrance.
“Who. Is. He?” He repeated, moving his face a bit closer to yours in bursts with every word, his head tilting to the left then to the right then back to the left to punctuate his words. He was slowing it down for you like you were dumb, and his fingers stopped moving—all of this making you huff.
“No one-“ You whine hopelessly, and he was starting to pull his hand away but you shot yours out to grip his wrist and keep his fingers deep between your legs. “No one, no one important.” You continued. “It was at summer camp, he’s not even from here. Please-“ you nearly sobbed, and it was enough to make the man groan as he leaned over you.
“Oh… please what, doll face?” He murmured, hand that had just been wrapped around his dick sinking the mattress down beside your head.
“Please- please don’t stop.” You whimper softly and he smiles sweetly down at you while pulling his hand away anyways. It was just for a second, enough to make you want to cry, but then he was plunging them back into your fluttering hole again. He added a third finger, barely giving you even enough time to enjoy the first two, the stretch making your lips part a little.
“God, you’re desperate.” He snorted, his hand angling a bit differently to let his thumb catch your clit. He watched with pride as your head tilted back and your back arched. Your thighs kept twitching and your walls were clamping down around his fingers more and more—he could tell you were close.
“Eddie…” You drawled, breath catching as your body braced itself for the mind-altering pleasure of your orgasm, but just as you approached the top—he pulled his hand away. You let out a distressed cry that made him laugh. He cooed at you, his hand that had been pumping his cock moving to rest on your cheek. Knowing where it had been made it even better, made it filthier. It made you wonder how many times he had just touched his dick before touching you.
“That’s for letting some random loser fuck you.” He whispered after leaning down so close that his nose was occasionally brushing against yours.
“‘m sorry…” You whine, tears of pleasure and pain having already slid down from your eyes and back towards your ears—leaving your hair damp and cold.
“You’re sorry, what?” He urged, nudging his tip against your folds.
“I’m sorry I let someone else take my virginity.” You were a blubbering mess, teary-eyed and needy.
“You’re gonna make up for it, though, right?” He purred, his tip already pressing into you and you nodded enthusiastically with a cry, your hips twitching forward.
“That’s my girl.”
Your lips parted, your lower lip quivering when he pushed into you until his hips were flush with your ass. You let out a sort of choked whimper and he groaned.
“Fuck you’re tight…” He sighed with content, sliding back before sinking back in until his tip was kissing your cervix. “Not even a virgin and I’m still gonna have to work to split this cunt open, huh?”
He was grinning again over that, over the grip your walls had on him from such a foreign stretch. It ached in the best way possible except for the occasional thrust that pinched and made you yelp out a small “ow.”
“S-so big… you’re so big…” You babble, your mind fuzzy. Your pupils were all blown out and you watched him fuck into you like it was the best dream you ever had. You eventually tilt your head back, letting out a happy hum as your hips push outward to feel him as deeply and as harshly as possible. He mimicked the sounds you made and the expressions you made from his thick cock hitting all the right places and stretching you enough that you knew you were going to be sore. All day tomorrow you were going to get brief pangs of aching that would remind you of how full you were of Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. He was all you could focus on, and you didn’t even realize you had been whimpering his name over and over under your breath until he made fun of you for it.
“Fuck you.” You huffed defensively, only for his amusement to bolster.
“Ha!” He cackled right in your face as you looked up at him with glossy eyes, pink cheeks and pouty lips. “Already are, sweetheart.”
Soon enough your sounds annoyed him though, especially the more demanding they got. Harder. Faster. Slower. More. Please. So he flipped you over onto your stomach and had his hand on your head to press your cheek into the mattress as he mounted you again—all with a casual “God, just shut up.”
At this new angle he was driving into you with a force that reverberated throughout your whole body every time he slammed into your cervix or that gushy part of you. You felt dizzy and breathless, every stroke of his cock against your ridged walls shooting off sparks. After being so close just from his hand to now, you were steadily approaching an orgasm again—just praying he’d let you keep it this time. He must’ve noticed because his free hand was reaching down to rub your clit. Your eyelids fluttered, a sob being muffled by the comforter you were biting down on. The sound of skin smacking, the tired springs of your bed squeaking, Eddie’s panting and grunting, the chain of his wallet clinking every now and then, the wet and pornographic sound of his cock plunging in and out of your pussy—it all seemed so loud for a second and then felt muffled the next as you came undone around him. You moaned out his name, whimpering cries on the tail end. You could feel your walls fluttering around him, clamping down and then blossoming back open then clamping down again in a mind-swirling rhythm.
“That’s a good girl…” He purred in a way that might’ve been too sweet from him if it wasn’t laced with a condescending tone. “Gonna cum in you, ‘kay?”
“Uh-huh-“ You moan, body aching as he picks up the pace again, fingers tangled in your hair with a painful grip. You can’t see him, but his head is tilted back completely blissed out as he fucks into you. You felt amazing, even better than he imagined which was pretty damn astonishing considering the pedestal he already had your pussy on in his imagination. He was so close, and a brief thought of getting you pregnant nearly sent him over the edge. He was mean. So fucking mean. That was the most devious thing he could do. Fill you up and make you all round with his kid.
“Shit-“ He pants out. “Gonna fill you up, babe.”
“Please-“ You beg, pulling an incredulous chuckle from him.
“Such a good girl… always take everything I give her.” He breathes out, leaning down to trap your body between him and your bed, his hand moving your hair away from your face. “Takes everything I give her at school, and she’s gonna take everything I give her in her bed, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, please-“ You sob, gasping out with the next few sharp thrusts against you until there was this warm feeling blooming inside you as he groaned against your back. He gave a few more thrusts after cumming inside, letting out happy puffs of air. You remembered how content that guy was when he unloaded into his condom inside you in camp. That blissful look on his face before he pecked your lips then lied next to you. Eddie didn’t bother with a condom, didn’t press a little peck to your lips and he wasn’t so quick to pull out either. When you squirmed a little he shifted so he was pushed up deeper into you, pulling a gasp from you which made him smirk against your skin.
Eventually he leaned up to bite your shoulder and then he slid out of you. You were still a little out of it, purring out a whiny hum as you nuzzled your quilt. Your legs were still spread and slightly bent up while you laid there on your stomach, and as he adjusted his softening dick back into his boxers he saw his cum slowly started to seep out of you and onto your comforter. Ever the gentleman, once his pants were zipped back up and his belt was buckled he landed his palm on your ass cheek and turned you over as you huffed over the action.
“See you Monday.”
“But we… we have to…” You fought to find your words through the haze. Study. You had to study.
“Bye, doll face!” He called out as he made his way downstairs.
You pouted a little, wanting to beg him to come back and stay with you. Maybe even go another round, but you were so spent that you just laid there.
When you got your energy back enough to force you to get up, you went to pee and clean yourself up before heading downstairs. Unsure of what to do with yourself, you made your way over to your backpack and you spotted the writing on the time sheet. A smile tugged at your lips. Instead of the date he wrote his phone number, and for the synopsis of today’s tutoring session he wrote “sex ed” with a winky face, and then signed where he was supposed to.
God, you were so fucked. And you were going to need a new time sheet.
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ladybracknellssherry · 4 months
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My favourite part about the magic show in 1941 is that they really just didn't need to do it. It was totally unnecessary. They're up there, their miracles aren't working... Crowley could have just said look Mrs. H sorry we suddenly have tuberculosis, here's a wad of demonic cash, I'll drop you off a case of the next batch of hooch from the gents in Whitechapel when it's ready. (Might they have been able to miracle the bottles fixed/miracled new bottles???? 😂😭)
But Aziraphale wanted to do his magic. He wanted to do it because he wanted to perform. And he wanted to do it to impress Crowley. And he wanted to do it to help Crowley out of his spot with Mrs. H. But in that human way he seems to like doing things (poorly.)
And Crowley wanted to let Aziraphale perform. Crowley wanted for them to work together doing something fun. He wanted to let Aziraphale feel like he was doing something for him because once he did that - once he could pay Crowley back for saving him from the nazis - they wouldn't owe each other anything. Anything else that happened for the rest of the night would just be them just spending time together.
And that was the real point. Crowley and Aziraphale just wanted to spend some time together. As friends. But it also felt like such a good opportunity to say look, you know this is more than that, right? Because if we were just friends we could fuck off and say we had TB and just spend the night drinking. But no. They risked Aziraphale actually getting discorporated.
And it’s so funny to me that the idea is we're here to help out Mrs. H and they're on stage and Aziraphale is like "yes just shoot past my ear where Mrs. H is standing" LMFAO It’s affirming that no matter what happened in Edinburgh, St. James Park, all of the pretence of the arrangement - this was 'Trust in me that I trust you." And "This isn't a transaction or matter of convenience and I'm acknowledging it." It is..."We're a team...a group...a group of the two of us." And leave it to these two turn a "seriously just point a loaded gun at my face and shoot" into a perfectly them coded 'I love you.'
But you know...if we go the face value route of the final 15 and not some other theory...
(i had to edit this part multiple times because i am apparently just as bad as crowley and aziraphale at finding the right words to explain emotions so there's a lot of variation in any of the reblogs you might come across) I think that's a huge part of what hurts Aziraphale so fucking much when Crowley says "we could have been us." It cut down this massive thing in Aziraphale because for a while now he'd thought they already were. They were. They have been. They are. And Crowley tries to say they are in his confession, but in his clumsy hurt he jumbles it all up with negations and subjunctives. He never manages to get the words out to say "stay and we can stop pretending we aren't" or "we are but not like this." He gives his same jump ship offer as in past panics as the only scenario in which "we could be us." An unrealistic scenario. Aziraphale believes he is presenting a realistic offer (if the final 15 is face value.) But Crowley rejects him. Then that already weak "we could be" so quickly becomes "could have been."
People need to stop blaming Aziraphale for how he reacted to the kiss because there was so much happening there. So many thousands of thoughts and feelings and questions and fears and so much pain. They’re complex characters and behave in complex ways.
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hannie-dul-set · 7 months
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THREE'S A CROWD — [preview].
SYNOPSIS. three of your friends fight for your affection, totally not because they like you— but simply because they can’t stand the idea of you liking someone else.
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PAIRINGS. jung sungchan, park wonbin, hong seunghan x female! reader. GENRE. college! au, rom-com, reverse harem, just a bunch of arrogant and silly little boys in denial, a collection of italicized oh moments in succession, featuring the rest of riize and nct. WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, mild possessiveness, so much petty and childish behavior, drinking, breaking and entering, may add more in the full fic. WORD COUNT. preview: 3.2k | full fic: est. 15-18k.
RELEASE DATE. november to december. TAGLIST. send an ask/dm/reply to be added.
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NOTE. i said i'd do it. so i did. i am. and i'm having so much fun writing another shitstorm of a harem so i hope you find this as fun as i do HAHAHHAHA. sick and tired of seeing nothing but smut under the riize x reader tag so here is my contribution to society. you're welcome.
preview under the cut.
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THERE ARE CURRENTLY THREE HEADS IN THE MALE DORMITORY LOUNGE. One is Sungchan, tinkering with the foosball table by himself because the other two heads are refusing to play with him. Second is Wonbin laid comfortably on the couch, headphones on and using his lap as a drum set. Last is Seunghan, on the floor for some reason, and eyes trained intently on his phone with his thumbs tapping on the screen like a madman.
The number gets added when Sohee rushes in from the front door, a large McDonald’s paper bag in hand and four large cups of soda in the other. “Order’s here!” he announces. The three heads quickly pop up from their respective businesses and congregate to the dining corner of the room.
“Fuck,” Sungchan groans, following the scent of the warm, freshly cooked mcnuggets on the table. The other three are already seated and poking holes in their soda cups. Sungchan is still groaning like a zombie. The two open nugget boxes are enticing him. He won’t . He must not. “I can’t eat. I forgot I had dinner plans tonight.”
“With a girl?” Sohee asks. The number of nuggets is depleting by the second. If the rest of the guys come down, there will be none left for him.
“Yes,” Sungchan replies. He swallows hard. Wonbin takes the boot shaped chicken right before his very eyes. This is torture.
Seunghan scrunches his nose, mid-nugget. “Boo. You whore. It’s guys night. How can you do this to us?” 
“A few nuggets can’t hurt,” says Wonbin. He pokes the box closer to Sungchan. 
“You’re right. Move over.”
They snort at his flimsy conviction. Sungchan argues that he is simply experiencing the delicacies of both the east and the west tonight. You’re supposed to have Japanese with him tonight. There is nothing wrong with cross-cultural enjoyment. He is simply diversifying his palate.
“So, is it a date?” asks Seunghan.
“No. I’m just eating out with a friend.”
“Just the two of you?” 
Wonbin raises a brow with the question. Sungchan counts the numbers in his head. “Yeah.” If he eats another nugget, then that would make it five. Five can be counted with only one hand. That isn’t a lot. This is fine.
“Oh man,” Sohee snickers. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure that’s a date.”
“No way!” he defends, the fifth and final nugget stuffed in his mouth. Sungchan swallows before continuing, wiping his hand on the pile of tissue papers on the table. “It’s not a date. I mean, she did tell me that she has a little crush on me, but it’s not a date.”
The three don’t miss the slight curl of his lips— a bastard’s sly grin. It’s a date. It’s definitely a date. Seunghan gives him a hard smack on the back. “The girl has a crush on you, how is it not a date, you piece of shit?”
“Ow! Hey!” he glares at him. “It really isn’t! We even had a whole talk we’re keeping it strictly platonic. I’m not interested in her in that way and she knows that. I’m not doing anything wrong here!”
There’s both disappointment and judgment in Wonbin’s face. “Quit leading her on.”
Sungchan gasps. “I’m not!”
“Who is it anyway?” Sohee asks right before taking an obnoxious sip on his soda. “Maybe I know her.”
“Well, I doubt it,” he starts. “I’m pretty sure you guys don’t know her, but she’s—”
Your name stumbles out of Sungchan’s mouth. It falls quiet, save for Sungchan’s explanation that he met you through the soccer team’s captain, Nakamoto Yuta, and that he’s known you for around half a year now. You’re in different majors, but it turns out you have quite a lot of friends from his team, so you bump into each other a lot. Sungchan knew about your crush on him early into your acquaintanceship— which is why having dinner with you and just you isn’t, “and shouldn’t be that big of a deal! It’s not a date. Seriously.”
“Okay, it’s not a date,” Sohee relents. Sungchan nods proudly at his victory.
“Yes. It is not.”
“But you know what’s funny—” Sohee’s eyes move to Seunghan. “The girl you told me about has the same name. What a coincidence.”
Seunghan is sitting on the table like a mound of stone. He’s got a half-eaten nugget in his hands. He’s not putting it in his mouth. “That’s right,” he simply says. There’s a faraway look in his eyes. “That is pretty funny. What a coincidence.” Coincidence, Seunghan repeats in his head. Yes. It must be a coincidence. He nods to himself and throws the nugget remnants into his mouth, satisfied with that conclusion.
“What girl?” Wonbin rouses. Seunghan turns his head to him sharply.
“Oh,” he says. “A friend from highschool.”
“A friend that’s had feelings for him since highschool,” Sohee grins. “You said she was pretty. Why didn’t you two start dating?”
Is this the chicken’s fault? Why the heck does everything keep circling back to dating? “I don’t know. I’ve just never seen her in that light,” Seunghan explains. He doesn’t know why he’s getting riled up, but he is. “And just because someone confessed to you doesn’t mean they want to start dating. Dude, I feel like you’re the one that should go and find a date. Being single is getting to your head.”
Seunghan has been friends with you since eleventh grade, being classmates and all. You confessed to him early into grade twelve, and even though he didn’t return your feelings, it was never awkward because you never acted differently. In fact, sometimes he second guesses if it actually happened. Just a few days ago, he asked if you still like him to confirm. All you said was, “yeah, why?” and continued working on your assignment. That’s why sometimes he forgets. That’s why it’s not worth bringing up.
Until now, when your name suddenly keeps popping up. Wonbin utters the same. Seunghan and Sungchan’s head quickly snap towards him. “You guys aren’t talking about SM-ARTS Chairperson, right?”
SM-ARTS is an art organization in your university. It’s been a well known org since its foundation— half because of its achievements, half because of its stupid (smart) name. “That’s...yes, that is her.” Seunghan gets a bad feeling. A really bad fucking feeling, and it’s not just having too much unhealthy chicken nuggets from McDonald’s. “Why? Do you also know her?”
“Of course I do. I’m literally her Vice Chair,” Wonbin furrows his brows. This is strange. He’s been working with you since the beginning of the year and you’ve never mentioned a Jung Sungchan nor a Hong Seunghan before. What’s even stranger is their assertions that you have feelings for them. You. For them. It’s a ridiculous thought to entertain because, “she literally told me that he has a crush on me. What are you two talking about?”
Wonbin couldn’t get a more direct confession than yours. It’s typical for the rest of your org officers and members to tease the both of you— the snickers and hollers when you’d call him to discuss something in private, the teasing saying you two look good together. Hell, some of the kids even call you both mom and dad and it’s gone to the point where he’s told them off to quit it because you might be uncomfortable. But you’d always say, “it’s fine,” and “you didn’t mind,” with a sweet smile on your face. Now, he’s no stranger to those insinuations, and for the sake of your professional relationship, he needed your denial or agreement.
Turns out, you do have a crush on him.
So this has become very, very awkward.
“Maybe—” Sungchan stammers. “Maybe...maybe we’re each talking about a different person, maybe there’s actually three different— oh, hey. What are you doing here?”
Speak of the devil and she shall appear.
“Hey!” 
The sound of your voice bouncing around the male dormitory walls feel foreign and jarring, especially after the conversation that had just transpired. You set down your bag on their couch, walking up to them with a bright smile that doesn’t match their vibe at all.
There’s tension in the air. A very thick and palpable tension and the three are exchanging glances and looks as if to say, ‘Go on. Go say hi to her first if she’s the girl you’ve been talking about.’
But you beat them to it. “Wow. I didn’t think you three knew each other!” you exclaim, skipping over to the dining corner where you find yourself in the gap between Sungchan and Seunghan. The two flinch at the closeness of your presence. Wonbin tightens his jaw. “Anyway, is Shotaro around? I need to talk to him about our trip this weekend, but he’s not replying.”
“He’s in his room. Upstairs. Fourth floor.” 
It’s not a competition, but hearing how quickly the response falls out of Wonbin’s lips sure does makes it seem like it is. Sungchan has his mouth open, gives Wonbin a look, before closing it again. Seunghan never even got the chance, and Sohee is looking at the scene unfold like it’s a goddamned trashy movie.
“Great, thanks!” you beam. “Oh, and we’re still up for dinner tonight, right?”
They can’t go for another speed contest because the question is reserved for one person only— Sungchan, who seems to be caught off guard. “Yeah. Absolutely,” he manages to squeeze out. You smile.
“Sweet. Wonbin, have you prepared the documents I asked for tomorrow’s meeting?”
It’s like a question carousel. “I’ll send them later for you to review.”
“Perfect! Right, and Seunghan—” There goes another rotation. “Mind driving me to the reunion this Friday? Jaeha bailed on me at the last minute, that son of a bitch.”
Seunghan blinks at you, in a daze. “Sure.”
“Nice! And you—”
Your attention lands on the last person at the table. Sungchan, Wonbin, and Seunghan didn’t expect you to even entertain him. “Sohee,” their friend fills in, a little taken aback. You flash him a bright grin.
“Sohee! Nice to meet you! Love your necklace. Very chic.”
For some reason the smile on Sohee’s face is annoying to the other three boys. “Thanks!” he says. “Have a nugget before you go.” They didn’t think it was possible, but somehow your face glows even brighter and you lean down, still between Seunghan and Sungchan, to pick up a piece from the box. 
“Thought you guys would never offer. Thank you! I’ll see you around!”
With that you disappear up the stairs, and you take all the noise and the life in the room with you. It’s quiet. So quiet— almost like there’s a standoff. That is until Sohee clears his throat, still pink from the compliment you gave him, and says, “Well. Seems like she’s the same person.” 
No fucking shit, she’s the same person. They can’t keep making excuses anymore. 
Seunghan tries to play it off with a laugh. “I can’t believe you guys would lie and joke about her having a crush on you.” His laugh isn’t well taken by the other two. It spirals down to shit all too quickly.
“What do you mean ‘lie’?” Wonbin narrows his eyes.
Sungchan hollers in. “Yeah, if anything, you’re the one that’s lying! You and him both!”
“Why would I lie?!” Seunghan protests.
“I don’t know— maybe because you’re jealous that she likes me and not either of you?”
Before they can start throwing fists, Sohee interrupts by making himself the collective target. “Have you guys considered,” he starts, hands solemnly pressed together above the crumb littered table. “That she might have a tinge of feelings for all three of you? Not just one?”
They pause in consideration. It takes them five seconds to brush him off.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“No way.”
“Why would she?”
Sohee sighs and gives up. He hears a set of footsteps rushing down and hopes it’s you, so that his three friends would finally quit it. It is you, and Sohee lifts up. Your timing is impeccable. He’s almost convinced you’ve been listening the whole time.
“Hey,” you greet them once again, flashing a smile once, before going off to retrieve your bag from the couch. The three quiet down instantaneously and have resigned to glaring at each other in seething silence. Seunghan isn’t very good at glaring at people, so he reorganizes his strategy instead.
“How’s the thing with Taro hyung?” he asks, twisting his chair to face you better. Sungchan and Wonbin give him a dirty look. That bastard. He’s even considering body language into play.
“Oh! The trip is canceled.” You sling your bag over your shoulder. “So my Sunday has been cleared. Do you guys want to make plans?”
Crap.
You just tossed them a bone.
Sohee is sure this isn’t gonna end pretty.
“Why don’t we go on a date?”
All eyes are wide. Their heads snap in the direction of Wonbin— the fast bastard. His expression is nonchalant, but his shaking knee from under the table says otherwise. “There’s a contemporary art exhibit opening downtown. Let’s check it out together,” This bitch, Sungchan’s expression seems to say. Seunghan’s disappointment seeps through the air.
“Like. A date, date?” you confirm, eyes batting expectantly, as if you have a barrier against the palpably sour and rotten mood flooding the room in ominous swirls.
“Yeah,” Wonbin confirms. He’s lucky you’re too far away to notice the sweat dripping down his neck. “Is...is that a problem? You said you liked me. Why don’t we give it a shot?”
All hell breaks loose the moment you entertain them with flustered cheeks and a shy smile.
“No! Don’t go!” Sungchan’s had it. He can’t take this anymore. “If there’s anyone you should be going out with, it should be me! You like me! Not them!”
Seunghan has left his seat and has scrambled over to you. Wonbin and Sungchan’s eyes widen. They aren’t letting him do this. They quickly follow suit but Seunghan already has a firm hold on your arms and is looking deep into your eyes. He’s put up an invisible barrier. Fuck, that sneaky bastard.
“Were you actually serious when you said that you had a crush on me since eleventh grade?” His voice cracks. If he’s trying to tap into your pity, then it’s definitely fucking working. “But why are these two saying you like them? What about us?! Am I nothing to y—”
Your index finger finds its way over Seunghan’s lips. Silence befalls. Your blank face settles into a sound smile.
“Well,” you pry Seunghan’s hands off you, still smiling pleasantly at all of them. What is this ominous feeling? Why doesn’t it seem like you’re actually smiling at them? “As far as I remember, none of you returned my confessions.”
It’s like a hammer hits all three of them at once.
“And I still like you Seunghan. We literally talked about it the other day.” You gave him a two word answer then brushed him off your essay. That was hardly a conversation. Seunghan feels wronged beyond words.
“How—how about me?”
You look over to Sungchan, who looks arguably like a kicked puppy. “What about you?”
“Well,” he clears his throat, a faint blush coating his ears. “Do you still, uh, have feelings for me too, or—”
“Sungchan, do you think I’d have kept asking you to have dinner alone with me every week if I didn’t like you?” He blinks. Beside him, Wonbin points a finger to himself. You let out a breath. “I’d be blind and tasteless if I wasn’t into you, Wonbin. Especially after working closely together since the beginning of the year. Why are you guys asking me this?”
Sohee has stopped liking all these ominous periods of silence because they’re signs that even more chaos is about to ensue. His three friends’ eyes look empty and hollow as they stare at you. Oh god, they’re far gone.
“So,” Wonbin starts.
“You like us,” Seunghan follows.
“Like all three of us,” Sungchan finishes. 
You give them a smile reminiscent of a kindergarten teacher feeling a swell of pride after her student finishes reciting the alphabet. Sohee feels sympathy pains for his friends. “Yup. I also have a crush on Johnny from med, but he’s graduating soon, so that’s a bummer. Oh! And our TA Jung Jaehyun! He has the face of a god!” Oh, dear. You stomp on them then finish it off with a spit on their faces. Sohee bites his lip, feeling both horrendously bad and curious as to how this shitshow will conclude. 
The three simmer in silence. You give them a raised brow.
“Why? Is there a problem?”
Oh, there’s a fucking problem, alright.
“Why are you guys looking at me like that? I did confess to all three of you saying I have a crush on you, but I never said I was in love with you.”
Well, damn.
Neither of them like you like that, but that shit hurt for no fucking reason.
“Don’t think too much of it, sillies! And I don’t get why you’re all so affected when you’re the ones who didn’t return my feelings.” 
Your laughter is poison and your smiling face is tearing them apart. You’re heartless. You’re a devil disguised as an angel. You’re from the deepest depths of hell and have come to earth for the sole reason of tooth-achingly sweet and strawberry scented torment. If they can fall to their knees right now, they would, but their pride is tattered enough already— ripped to shreds by your unapologetic bluntness and honesty.
“Anyway, since I already have plans with the three of you within the week, Sungchan’s later this evening—” The man in question is pouting. He’s pouting very hard when your eyes skip over him, and zones into the person that’s been quiet this entire time. “Sohee! Wanna go bowling with me and my bio friends this Sunday?”
That was a bomb. A large and dangerous bomb. “Sure?” Sohee responds unknowingly. You give them one last sweet smile of torture before finally leaving.
“Great! Get my number from any of them. I have to go meet some people. Later! Thanks for the snack!”
With that, you leave them behind, but not without a trace of disaster. Once they’ve confirmed you’re gone and out, signaved by the tight shutting of the door, Sungchan, Wonbin, and Seunghan look at each other. Then at Sohee. Then back at the closed door once more.
It’s quiet again. They don’t need to talk to settle with three mutual conclusions.
One. Sohee isn’t getting shit after the emotional massacre they went through. He can go crawl and scavenger for your number elsewhere for all they care.
Two. There’s no doubt. They all know you and you all know them. This is something they can’t ignore anymore, so they have to figure out how to behave in case a run in like this happens again,
And three—
You like them. All three of them. At the same time. 
Their pride can’t stand the idea of sharing that affection. Absolutely not. Therefore three must drop down to one. Sungchan, Wonbin, and Seunghan are dead set on making sure that that one is going to be him.
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THREE'S A CROWD. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.
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bloodlust-1 · 2 months
Text
You’re too sweet for me ₊ ⊹ part 1
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Halsin x fem Tav (dark urge) — Explicit 18+
Summary: Tav takes a dip in the river to calm those pesty dark thoughts, hoping it'd help settle these murderous urges. But things turn interesting when Halsin finds her, offering to keep her company in the water. If only he knew just how pure he was in her eyes, a shame it'd be to destroy such an image.
TW: SMUT!
Note: I like this power dynamic. Halsin’s no match for this attitude. This isn't proof-read yet so pls don't bully me :')
AO3
Lovely photo by @moonslittlestar
Tav pushed back the droplets of water with her palms, fluttering her wet eyelashes against the moonlight by the riverbank. Its light reflected white against the ripples of water Tav bathed herself in.
The cool water was almost therapeutic to her, settling those dark urges so late at night. It'd be a shame if another Alfira incident happened again...
A smile crept on her lips.
Whatta shame for the poor bard.
With a menacing giggle, she ran her fingers through her wet hair, enjoying the sound of the silence of night. It was so calm compared to the rapid evil thoughts that tainted her mental.
Tav knew she had to be a good girl.
At least for now.
A crunching of rocks and sticks startled her, and she quickly wrapped her arms around her bare chest; turning her head towards the sound.
Startled, Tav turned to see Halsin approaching quietly. His tall figure was outlined against the moonlight, and his eyes held a gentle warmth as he looked at her.
“Oh - Tav...I didn't know you bathed around this time. Is it alright if I join you?” he asked, his voice carrying over the gentle sounds of the flowing water.
A mischievous smile played on Tav’s lips, meeting his gaze. “Of course, cause that isn't weird at all,” her tone laced with sarcasm as she nudged her head at him.
Why not? If it was anyone who didn't find this weird, it'd be Halsin.
The air between them seemed thick with unspoken desire while Halsin turned away, undressing each article of clothing off his body.
Tav's eyes trailed down from the bare muscles of his back all the way down to his toned ass. A smirk crossed her lips, turning away to leave him to his privacy as he walked into the water.
What can she say - he was beautiful.
Total eye candy.
With a graceful ease, Halsin stepped into the water beside Tav, the coolness of the river enveloping him. The closeness between them felt electric, their gazes locked in a silent pull.
"It's a peaceful night to indulge ourselves." His eyes traced over the contours of Tav's face and into her collarbones, stopping at the plump of her breasts that hid in the water. His lips parted slowly, "I assume you've been here for some time now?"
Tav caught his lingering gaze and nodded with a small smile, "For only about 15 minutes before you showed up." Tav circled around Halsin, cupping water into her hands and pouring the cool water over his shoulders, "I'm happy it was you who found me."
Tav's hands draped over his back, rubbing the water into his skin, "I am a bit of a lone wolf, but your presence is always welcomed." The coolness from her breath hit against Halsin's damp skin causing him to chuckle at her perfumed words.
"Nature spoils me with someone of your bountiful looks." He leaned back slightly, allowing Tav to run her hands up his back, neck, and then hair with water.
"Have you given thought about what I've said the other day?" He spoke with confidence and Tav let out a laugh.
Oh yeah - that.
Halsin confessed his feelings for her some time ago and she never got back to his proposition. Halsin wanted more than just lingering stares. He wanted to feel her, touch her, please her.
The only problem...He was too nice for her.
These evil thoughts and bloodlust for murder made Tav hesitant to pursue something more with Halsin.
He was so pure and she was the darkness of his shadow.
"Oh Halsin." Tav gently scraped her nails down his back, leaving behind faint red streaks on his skin, "You're too sweet for me."
A chill ran up his back before Tav submerged herself under the water, and Halsin turned his head back, looking around the find her.
Just then, Tav slowly rose up from the dark water in front of him, the water rolling off her body like the softest petal of a flower. Her eyelashes battered with water droplets and it rolled off her bare nipples for Halsin's pleasure.
Tav was an absolute tease. A beautiful mess of a woman who gnawed at his deepest darkest fantasies. Halsin never experienced someone like her and he was practically begging for Tav's attention.
His eyes consumed every detail. Every scar and the faint stretch marks on her breasts. Halsin's eyes gleamed at the soft pudge of her love handles when he noticed them. Tav's body was a piece of art; nature's purest gift.
Tav tilted her head, watching Halsin’s eyes dart around her wet body and then back to her lustful eyes. “You couldn’t handle someone like me,” she teased, a mischievous glint playing in her eyes. “Trust me, I would destroy any innocence you think of me…and maybe it’s best to keep it that way.”
Halsin hummed to her words. Captivated by Tav’s boldness, he felt a wave of desire but masked it with a seductive charm. His voice was smooth as he replied, his words dripping with honeyed persuasion.
“My love,” he began, his gaze intense yet inviting. “Innocence has its allure, but the fire in your eyes tells a different story...Perhaps it is not about handling you but rather embracing the chaos you bring."
He continued, leaning closer to her, his hands resting on her hips, "Even nature's most dangerous of predators has its beauty. You have hunter eyes -" Halsin brought one of his hands to rest on her cheek, bringing her body against his in a tight-knit, "Piercing. Dangerous. But beautiful."
Her breasts pressed against the muscles of his chest and it brought a fever across her cheeks. The sweetness in Halsin's voice was enough to make Tav question her better judgment.
Tav giggled and tickled his muscular arms with the tips of her nails softly, "Mmm, you're so tempting, druid." Tav gently peeled herself away from him. She clutched onto his hands, leading him deeper into the river until the water reached her shoulders.
Tav splashed a handful of water toward Halsin, causing him to chuckle as he playfully splashed back. Laughter filled the night air in this innocent water fight.
Suddenly, Halsin dove underwater briefly, only to resurface moments later in a swift movement, scooping Tav up into his arms, her laughter ringing out.
Tav held onto his shoulders for support as his strong arms wrapped securely around her thighs, locking her in place. Their eyes met in the dim moonlight, their laughter faded into a comfortable silence.
Tav’s gaze drifted down to Halsin’s wet hair and face, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon above. Her fingers traced over his brow, dipping into the crevices of his scars.
She couldn’t help but admire his rugged charm. Had Tav not felt like such a bad influence on Halsin, he would have already been hers since the night of the tiefling party. It’s not like she didn’t already try.
But he denied her.
Oh how the tables turn.
Without hesitation, she leaned in closer, teasingly hovering the plump of her lips over his. Eyes like daggers bore into Halsin, and he shifted her down enough for Tav to hook her legs around his waist.
Tav hummed with her voice soft in a whisper, “I bet you want to kiss me so badly right now, hmm?”
Halsin chuckled deeply in his chest, clicking his tongue softly against his teeth. “You’re making me feel like a young Druid again…I’d chase you like bait on a fishing line.”
Tav wrapped her arms around his neck, laying her head gently against his nape and purring into his ear, “Maybe I’m just waiting for you to bite the bait then.”
Halsin crooked his neck to meet Tav’s gaze. She rested her head on his shoulder and smiled up at him playfully. Tav pressed her thumb over Halsin’s bottom lip, grazing the skin in small strokes, “Remember what you said to me at the tiefling party?”
She dragged her thumb down, pulling his lower lip seductively until it dipped back up into place. His face went hot and she could feel his muscles stiffen.
Halsin closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath before nodding his head to the memory, “I do.”
Tav traced small circles into the nape of his neck, feeling the goosebumps caress her skin as she planted a single kiss on his neck, “And what did you tell me?”
Halsin shamefully answered her with defeat, “That I will not keep you all to myself.” He tilted his head away, exposing more of his neck to her.
“A shame, really.” She scuffed. Admittedly, Tav still held that against him. Rejection was something she never really experienced when it came to sex.
He was the first.
And to see him now, crumbling at the smallest touch satisfied her deeply.
“Now tell me, Druid…” Tav leaned her head up, coming face to face with Halsin, “How are we going to fix this problem?”
She nudged her hips against him, feeling the tip of his hardened length poking at her inner thighs under the water.
“Allow me to take you out of this river and I’ll show you, bratty love.”
Her lips tugged into a smirk at the word "bratty."
Tav's eyes gleamed, and her hands cupped his jaw, forcing his face closer to hers with a tug. A breathy chuckle left her lips before crashing them against Halsin's.
He hesitated at first from her force, but then slowly melted into the kiss, hugging her tighter than before. The drive in her kiss startled him, and he could feel all the emotions spilling out into a sweet kiss on his tongue.
Tav nibbled down on his lower lip, dragging her sharp canine across his delicate skin; causing him to wince softly as the small cut began to bleed.
His blood tasted bitter and warm, but the druid only encouraged her by mixing the flavor between their tongues.
Finally, Tav pulled away with a soft gasp. Her chest rose up and down with lustful eyes, “You talk a big game...I wonder just how well that tongue works..”
Halsin planted a kiss on her jawline, his voice strong and assertive, “I can show you.”
She lifted an eyebrow, “And risk someone catching us out in the open?”
He nodded with flushed cheeks. His eyes fell hazy as the blood on his lips smudged across his skin. The sting of his cut only bothered him for a moment before it all melted away into pleasure.
This painful pleasure was...intoxicating.
She's such a bad influence and he didn't even care.
Tav’s voice was low and husky as she leaned in closer to Halsin, her breath warm against his skin. Her eyes sparkle mischievously, “Very well…but - you got to earn it,” she murmured teasingly with dominance. “Show me, just with your tongue, and maybe then I’ll reconsider your…proposition."
Halsin’s hands instinctively found their way to her hips, fingers kneading gently into the plush of her skin, "A fair bargain. I would have more faith in me, however."
She pressed her index finger across his lips, hushing Halsin. Leaning into him with charm in her tone, "Tongue, not words."
Halsin nodded.
Next part here
Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!
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ivystoryweaver · 8 months
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im so interested in what u think the moon boys would be like as dads???
Ohhhhh, this is gonna hurt my heart. In a good way. I have a lot of feelings about Moon Dads and I've not yet written fics about it so yeah...
I'm gonna jump right in with Marc.
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I think if Marc had a child, he would be all in: attentive, tender, affectionate.
I don't actually believe Marc would be afraid of parenting. I know that can be a popular hc/fic plot and I totally understand why, and love reading those.
But I think Marc would be one of those people that would try to do the opposite of what was done to him. Example: his parents were married and that went well... (sarcasm)
Yet Marc got married. He and Layla were together for years and, according to her, had "adventures together", meaning they worked as a (likely successful) team. Marc bailed on Layla once his mom passed and he could no longer control or hide his disassociations (plus Khonshu's threats for Layla to be his next avatar).
Point being: Marc did get married and seemed pretty successful at it, for the most part.
Marc is in charge of bath time. This includes little toy boats, fish that squirt water, bubbles. He's going to wash their hair, or whatever hair needs they have, depending on race and hair types. If it is a hair type he isn't as familiar with, he is going to be talking to his partner, looking up vids, whatever it takes. Touch is going to be so important to him. He is the dad who will know how to do french braids or styles for textured hair.
He's never going to react in anger. If he is angry, he's going to hand the reins to Steven or sometimes Jake (if he is able, it's obviously not a parlor trick), or he will just say to his little one, "Daddy is going to take a time out. I'll be back in a minute and we can have a talk." The idea of putting himself in time out is so endearing to his child that they end up calming from whatever misbehavior they were attempting, wanting to join him in the corner for time out, touching a plushie or reading a book in his lap.
They learn very young that their father's expressions can be stern but his hands are safe. They will not want to disappoint him.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
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Steven can converse naturally with children, this we see in the first episode. Steven's open, engaging nature is great for children. His own childlike wonder will shine in fatherhood. He was also able to quickly redirect the behavior of the girl who was littering at the museum. So a spunky child in a doctor's office waiting room will be easily wrangled by a distracting toy, quick game or wonderful story.
Steven is your go-to guy for bedtime stories. With a young child, Steven will share how wondrous the world around them is. He'll always have a anecdote or a fun fact for tweens or teens.
He will offer choices. "Do you want to put on 'jammies now or after a story?" "Do you want to help Dad set the table or feed the cat?" Steven has lacked agency in his life, so he is going to give it to his child. He will teach them to speak up for their needs.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
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Jake is going to be such a little shit as a dad. I'm sorry but there is no nicer way to say it lol. Jake's used to operating in the background and he's a night owl. He's the fun dad. He's the "don't tell mom" dad (or don't tell dad, dad). Kid wants stay up 15 extra minutes? It's Jake that's gonna sneak them some of the popcorn he popped after they were supposed to be asleep. As a partner, you'd find your little one on Jake's knee in the most comfy chair, watching the Yankees play baseball.
You give them The Look™ and they know they are busted. They exchange guilty glances and then Jake starts repeating words in Spanish. Baseball, Popcorn, very good! If you are already all Spanish speakers then Jake pretends to be practicing in both Spanish and English.
Either way, he and his little twin, with their adorable curls, give you shit eating grins.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
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stylesparker · 8 months
Text
together again
PAIRING: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
WORD COUNT: 2.1k
WARNINGS: ex-bestfriend!steve, bullying, panic attack, anxiety, mentioned parent death, angst, hurt/comfort, "i've got you"
A/N: sorry this request took so long, but I hope you enjoy anon! Thank you for checking with me first, and I hope this can offer you a little more comfort! <33
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"Are you even listening to me?"
"Huh?" You knock yourself out of your stupor and look at Steve, his eyes gazing gravely at you. His arms are crossed, his hair is all styled up to perfection like always, and you think to yourself- how is it that you've been paired up with Steve Harrington, again, for another stupid project? Why you, of all people?
You definitely have to be cursed.
"You heard me, right?" He confirms. "My house after school?"
You nod, almost rolling your eyes a bit. "Yeah, totally." You huff before you ask, "since when have you been one to get a head start on school work?"
He chuckles, but it sounds more sarcastic than genuine, "Since I needed a good grade in this class to graduate, L/N. I'll see you later." He pushes off the wall, sauntering away in those stupid ass jeans that actually kind of make his ass look good. You shake your head, looking away from the boy and turn to face your locker once more.
As soon as you close it with your backpack over your shoulder, you hear familiar whistles coming towards you down the hallway.
Shit.
You start walking, hoping within an inch of your life these shitheads aren't coming to you, but you know better. A hand clamps over your shoulder, squeezing a little too hard for you to know exactly who it is.
Justin Andrews, the biggest dick in Hawkins.
"Heya, sweetheart, you miss me?" He laughs right into your ear.
"Not exactly."
"Oh, I know you did. Where ya' been? Haven't seen you around all week, was sorta starting to miss this pretty ass." His friends laugh beside him as his hand drifts down your shoulder and smacks your ass, catching you off guard and making you flinch farther from his hold.
"Been sick." That's all you answer, thinking maybe putting him off with short responses will get him to find somebody else, but again, you know better than to think this will be different than any other time before.
"Damn, that's a shame. I'm sure those kids of yours got a nice break from ya' then huh?" You glare at him as he offers a wide-grinned smile, winking at you before leaving you with another smack to the ass as a parting gift. As Justin and his pack of friends depart, you hurry away as fast as you can down the hall and out the doors before they can even think of coming back.
Once you finally get to your car and get inside, you throw your stuff to the passenger seat and take a deep breath to try and calm yourself down. There was no way you were going to last period after that, and besides, your youngest little brother needed to be picked up from daycare today anyway. Luckily your other four siblings are a bit older and take the bus now, otherwise you probably would have dropped out at this point. You take another deep breath and drive off in hopes of getting your brother quickly, and home on time so you don't show up late to Steve's.
You do not want to deal with an angry Steve.
...
As the universe would have it, everything was against you today.
First, you almost got hit by some drunk pulling out of the bar halfway to the daycare. Once you got to the daycare, you had to wait half an hour since your brother had a tantrum and didn't want to leave in the middle of snack time. By the time you got him out of there, and into your car in his blue booster seat, it had been another 20 minutes. Usually it's about a 15 minute drive home from the daycare, but it ended up being a half hour due to traffic. After you finally made it home, you got a call from your boss asking you to come in again later tonight to take another extra shift since your shitty co-worker hasn't been showing up for two weeks.
At that point, you were about to lose it. You'd just gotten home and now you had to miss another family dinner tonight, much to your brother's disappointment. You wish you had just a moment to breathe, but everything has been so... chaotic lately, it's like you've been running a marathon for a month straight.
You opened the cabinet to see what food was in there, but it was only half a bag of stale potato chips, and a couple boxes of your sisters' favorite cereal. You sighed, holding your empty stomach. Leftovers tonight would have to suffice.
You took a quick glance at the clock at the wall, but did the world's fastest double take when you saw the time 4:30.
SHIT. You think. Steve is going to murder me.
Thankfully, you hear your mom pull in the driveway so at least you're not leaving your brother home alone. You grab your backpack and bolt out the door with your keys in your hand. You scream a quick goodbye to your mom while she watches you pull out of the driveway like a madman, and take off in a rush.
Fifteen minutes later, you're pulling into Steve's huge driveway, slamming the door behind you, and running up to the door with big huffs to try and catch your breath. You knock on the door three times, and pull your hand back down when you see the door already opening in front of you. When the door is opened, you're confronted by the boy you were dreading to see.
"I'm sorry-" you begin to apologize, but Steve immediately cuts you off.
"Are you serious? I asked you if after school worked and you told me it was fine, and now you're an hour and a half late!"
"Steve-" you try again, but he continues. You stand there, taking in his anger and frustration, and all you can do is blankly stare and nod, not even knowing what you're agreeing with. You shut your eyes and look at the ground, willing the tears to stay back while you twist your fingers in your hands. You don't even know when his voice lost its edge or when it even stopped at all, or when you'd been pulled inside and asked if you were alright. Your eyes are still closed, but your head feels like it's going to explode and you can't hear what he's saying. The tears are streaming down your face before you can help it, and your hands start shaking from how hard you're trying to hold back.
Steve's so taken aback, he can't even speak. He hasn't seen you like this in a long time, not since your dad died and you practically became a parent to your siblings. His heart breaks a little bit at the sight of you, and he feels a part of his old self coming back, wanting to comfort you and protect you just like he did growing up. Just like he's done his whole life, apart from the entirety of this year. He doesn't even care he's supposed to hate you and you're supposed to hate him in this moment, all he knows is that he's the only person that can help you right now, and he's going to do just that.
Steve's face loses its concern and he jumps into protective mode, bringing his hands up to hold either side of your face to get you to look at him.
"Sweetheart, I need you to calm down for me, yeah? What's going on, talk to me."
You stubbornly shake your head and refuse to look up at him. Your chest is still heaving rapidly, and he can tell you can't catch your breath.
"Don't be stubborn right now, I can't help you if you don't let me and you need to let me help you. I can't have you passing out on my floor now can I?" He tries to joke, but you don't get distracted, you keep your eyes down even though they've opened. He sighs, dropping one of his hands to grab yours and place them over his chest. "Slow down, take a deep breath, love."
"I-I can't-" you sputter out to the best of your ability, letting your hand ball his shirt up into a fist.
"Yes, you can. Take a good deep breath," you listen to him momentarily, following what he's doing, and when you do he nods and gives you a nice, soft smile, "there ya go, love, you got it. Do it again."
Seeing him be like this for you again brings you back to all those times you've needed him before, the memories almost came flooding back when you heard his loud voice turn soothing in an instant, just for you. His touch had always been grounding, always took off the pressure and allowed you to come back down, and you hadn't expected it to be the same after so much time apart, but now, it's like nothing changed. He's still Steve- he's still your Steve.
That thought alone comforts you more than anything else.
"Steve-" you whisper softly, "I'm so- sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Sweetheart, don't-"
"No, I have to. I've been horrible to you, and now you're helping me- I just-" you drop your head on his chest, and finally tell him everything. "I feel like I've just been going and going non-stop, and today was it, it was my absolute breaking point. After you, and Justin-"
"Justin? Are you- Are you serious? Is he still giving you shit?"
You gulp, "yeah," but you shake your head quickly, "but he's not even the worst thing, I just... ugh," you stop yourself before you start crying again but Steve feels like he knows.
"When's the last time you got some sleep?"
"I don't know.. a couple days ago?"
"Oh my god," he drops his head back and groans, which actually makes you laugh a bit. He immediately looks down at you, realizing the talking stopped you from panicking, or at least distracted you from it. "Hey," he nudged you a bit, getting you to look up at him, "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't of yelled at you, and I definitely shouldn't have left you that night-"
"That's not your fault, Steve. I pushed you away."
"Yeah, and I shouldn't have let you."
You look at each other for a moment, like, really look at each other. It's been so long since you've been able to hold each other like this, it almost doesn't feel real.
"C'mon, let's get you something to eat."
"It's fine-" you start, before he cuts you off again.
"No, shut up. If you haven't been sleeping, you definitely haven't been eating either, so let's go." He left no room for debate, so you just took his hand and followed him, letting him lead you through his house.
He gives you a couple of your favorite snacks, since he didn't have any sort of meals yet, but you seemed very content, so he thought it was better than nothing. He let you take your time, rubbed your back while you told him about the rest of your shitty day, and grabbed your hand again when he started up the stairs to his room.
"What about the project?" You asked.
"That can wait. You need some sleep first."
"Steve-"
He shook his head, "Nope. Not happening."
At last, you gave up and followed his lead again, which, as much as you'd hate to admit it, it felt nice letting someone else lead you around for a change instead of the other way around. For so long, it's been you taking charge and always bossing your siblings around, but it feels relieving to have Steve with you again to remind you it didn't always have to be that way.
You pulled back the covers in his bed and laid down, not even having to ask for Steve to join you, him already doing the same on the other side. Almost as if no time had passed, you curled up against one another, resting your head on his chest, and his arms wrapping around you to pull you close.
"Go to sleep. I've got you."
His hands rub gentle circles on your back, soothing you and releasing the tension from your body as you slowly relax enough to fall asleep. You fight to keep your eyes open as long as you can, savoring this moment with him, almost as if he won't be here when you wake up.
"Don't worry, I'll be here."
Those words pull at your heartstrings, making you hold him tighter and bury yourself into him deeper, if you even can. Knowing that you're together again has you finally closing your eyes, and falling into a peaceful sleep.
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five-miles-over · 1 month
Note
Hi Mun 👋🏼 just found your blog off some tags lol
I would love it if you could do an age gap hc for joker? How would Arthur deal with developing feelings for a partner who is 10 or even 15 years younger than him?
Thank you so much!
Thanks for your patience, anon! I truly appreciate it. Also, Arthur's head canon turned into a bit of a fic, so I apologize for that.
Headcanon: Arthur Fleck Having an S/O Younger Than Him
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"ID Please."
While Arthur accompanied you to the grocery store after your shift at work, you bought a bottle of wine to enjoy with the dinner you planned to cook for Arthur. He was coming over to your apartment for the first time, and you wanted to spoil him with a recipe you saw on a cooking show. So you bought all the ingredients, and a bottle of red.
The cashier glanced at you. "You're twenty-two huh? You look like you should be in high school."
You shook your head, flustered. "Um...thanks?"
After paying, you quickly left the store with your bagged groceries. But just when you reached for Arthur's hand, he flinched.
You didn't think much of it at first, but when you tried to talk to Arthur about something, he simply shrugged it off and said it was nothing
The truth is that, Arthur was still processing the fact that you were in your early twenties.
He knew you were a young beautiful woman, smart and kind. A total catch. And that part of Arthur, the part of his mind that told him he was an outcast and fed him nothing but negative thoughts, constantly said, "She could do so much better than you. You don't deserve her at all. She's the whole package, and what are you? Just some guy who can't even take her out to dinner."
He tried to hold it back as he saw other, bigger guys in Gotham walking with their partners, giving them bouquets of flowers wrapped in shiny plastic and other gifts, telling himself that someday he would do exactly that with you. But knowing that you were at ten years younger than him? That was just more fuel to the fire burning inside him.
"She's got her whole life ahead of her. She's going to find someone better, wait and see." The negative thoughts materialized again. "She's just with you out of pity. Date the sad clown, maybe she just wants to fool around. Wait and see. She's going to meet someone with a lot of money, a lot of status...She'll marry him, and when they're all sitting around at cocktail parties, she'll laugh about the time she dated a sad clown. And say she dodged a bullet."
"Arthur?" You tried to get his attention, and repeated his name a couple of times. "Arthur?"
Arthur, seemingly lost in thought, didn't respond until you stood in front of him, stopping him from crossing the street. "What happened?"
"Nothing," he lied. You crossed your arms, not having any of it. And this made Arthur laugh a bit, not out of amusement but out of fear. "Nothing, really," he lied again between laughs.
"Just tell me."
After a few moments of silence, Arthur simply asked. "Are you really twenty-two?...You're twenty-two."
"Yes. I am."
"That's young."
You shifted your weight to one foot. "I know that."
Arthur mirrored your gesture and swallowed. "So...well, I don't care. It's just young."
"I'm not that young," you rebuffed.
"Young enough that the cashier thinks you're in high school."
You put your hands on your hips, still carrying the bags of groceries. "Is that what this is about? He wasn't hitting on me!"
"No, but someone will," Arthur raised his voice a little. "You're young, what the hell do you know?"
"I know that you're my boyfriend and I love you. I don't care what some cashier says about me, and neither should you."
He shook his head. God how he loved the way you'd get so stubborn about your opinions. It was one of his favorite things about you, but right now, in this moment, it made him even more annoyed. How could you say such a thing, lying through your teeth? And with those three special words? "Bullshit," Arthur muttered, walking away from you to cross the street.
You followed him, huffing with your groceries. "Arthur Fleck, what is wrong with you?! Can't you just...Why are you so mad? Nothing happened! I'm still the same person I was twenty minutes ago."
"No. You're twenty-two." He turned around and lashed out. "You're twelve years younger than I am. What the hell's wrong with you? Hanging around with some old clown, waiting until some rich guy makes you his wife and you can leave me behind!" Your eyes widened. "Is that what you think of me?" Your lips quivered and tears formed in your eyes. "Is that seriously what you think this is, just...hanging around? Oh my god." You looked down as you felt a tear roll down your cheek.
Arthur visibly softened, reaching his hand out but stopping himself just before he could touch you. "I'm such an idiot," you sniffed. "You're right, what do I know?" "I'm sorry," Arthur sighed. "I didn't mean to make you cry." Arthur looked down, into your eyes. "I...was just shocked that you were younger. I thought it would...I don't deserve you. You're great, you're a perfect girl and I don't deserve you." He added, "I love you so damn much."
"I love you too," you looked up. "And I don't want to leave you." He laughed for a few moments with pain in his eyes, and bit the inside of his cheek to quiet down. "I'm so sorry," Arthur repeated and put his hands on your shoulders. "Oh my god, please don't cry. I'm so sorry." He took your grocery bags in his hands. "Let's go."
You and Arthur went back to your apartment, and didn't talk about your age for the rest of the night. But you did spend the evening together, telling each other - and showing each other - how much you really loved each other.
Joker Having an S/O Younger Than Him Would Include...
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In complete contrast to Arthur, Joker finding out you were ten or fifteen years younger than him would excite him
He'd turn it into a complete kink, calling you his "personal little baby doll"
Whenever you'd go out, you'd be on his lap, him stroking your thighs and your hair.
Unless you were absolutely against the aesthetic, Joker would love to dress you in coquettish clothing - plaid mini skirts, knee-high white socks, white and pastel blouses that he would ruin with grease facepaint while making out with you, and corsets he would rip off you before having his way with you
And if you ever called him "daddy"? Watch out and be prepared to be dragged into the most private area by the Joker. Hope you didn't have any plans for the next...hour
In general, the Joker would be extremely protective of you, keeping his arm around your waist while you walked.
He'd spoil you with anything you ever wanted, acting almost like your sugar daddy while you window shopped.
And when it got cold, he'd put his red suit jacket over your shoulders saying, "Daddy's not going to let his baby doll freeze."
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nightdiary · 1 year
Text
last night's story (jake) – preview
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word count: estimated 15-20k genre: surfer!jake, friends to enemies to lovers, angst, attempt at humor, fluff, eventual smut author's note: the odysseus concept demon got my ass. i cannot get surfer jake out of my mind so this was born .. whew! let me know if you'd like to be added to a tag list for when this is released <3 FULL STORY HAS BEEN POSTED!
summary: lured by the prospect of earning a couple extra bucks for the summer, you head north to man your aunt's surf shop on australia's sunshine coast. it's a visit that reacquaints you with everything you've been running from– old friends, abandoned memories, and one unforgettable jake sim.
“You should come watch me at the state titles next week,” Jake leans over the counter, propping himself up on his elbows and fixing you with an impish look. The movement sends a few droplets from his fringe landing by your hands, and he sheepishly apologizes before reaching out to wipe them away.
Instinctively, you want to reach out and shove his forehead with your fingers, but you have to remind yourself that this isn’t the same Jake you’d grown up with. Whatever you’d once had was left decaying in the past.
“Sure,” you say, ignoring the nagging warmth in your chest. Feigning nonchalance, you busy yourself with tapping on the checkout screen of the iPad, if only to give your hands something to do other than to fidget with your shirt. “Me and how many other chicks?”
Jake laughs good-naturedly, but the momentary lapse of insecurity in his voice isn’t lost on you. You feel guilty for just a moment, but don’t allow yourself to dwell on it. As you finalize his order on the screen, you look up to find Jake already looking back at you, almost expectantly.
“Your total’s $270.59.”
Jake’s face falters the slightest bit, but you don’t think it’s because of the ridiculously high price. “Does that factor in the ‘good friend discount’?”
The phrase makes something sour flood in your mouth, and you resist the urge to scowl. The receipt machine prints out his total, and you rip the paper out with more force than admitted necessarily. You nearly slam it down on the counter in front of Jake, peering up at his shocked face through your lashes. “Yea? What’s my favorite color, Jake?”
Noticeably taken aback, Jake’s confident demeanor slips away as easily as a receding wave. He stutters around his next sentence, and you try not to let your satisfaction show as you open the register. Jake looks down as he counts through the bills in his wallet, pulling out several and passing them timidly across the surface. “Uh–, well, hmm. Something… blue? Wasn’t it blue?”
“I hate blue,” you spit the lie out a bit too quickly, and hope Jake can’t see right through you. You accept the bills you’re handed with pursed lips, slipping them into your register and handing back the few cents you owe him.
“You don’t,” Jake answers immediately, not bothering to reach out and pocket the change. “You love blue. That light seafoam shade you see on the shore. Used to say it reminded you of summer.”
Despite how much you want to disagree, your throat feels all dry and your eyes are stinging and you don’t think you can bear to look at Jake much longer without saying something regretful. But something about letting him think he still knows you makes your fists clench and gut boil.
“People change,” you say with an air of finality. “I changed. You changed.”
Jake takes his bag and steps back from the counter with the expression of a kicked puppy. He looks back at you like he wants to say something, something long left untouched, and you resist the urge to hide behind your counter and stuff your ears with cotton.
You feel naked and vulnerable– like Jake has carefully stripped away every last layer of your defenses and he can see the rotting remains of everything you didn’t say. You hate how he looks at you, like he knows exactly what’s going through your mind and the inner monologue you’ve been fighting since you first met him. Like he still knows you in and out, despite moving away and changing every last bit of yourself that reminded you of him.
“Thanks for shopping with us,” the smile you give him is anything but warm, and you shut the register with a bang that echoes around the shop. “Have a good rest of your day, Jake.”
likes and reblogs greatly appreciated ♥
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wintfleur · 4 months
Note
Stella has been rejected by guys before so the only person she trust to comfort her about that situation is Trevor. He’s ready to beat this guy up but instead decides to hold her and reassure her that there are other guys out their for her!
ꔫ Boys suck anyway!
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°. — pairings ( Estella Hughes oc! X Platonic! Trevor zegras )
°. — details ( g; fluff?, angst?, w; original male character is a major jerk, cursing, I think that’s all?. wc; 3.8k )
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( thank you so much for sending in a request! I decided to turn this into the first fic of of this AU! Stella is 15 in this while Trevor is 18! So happy to write one of my favorite friendships, so sorry that this took so long to get out! I hope you enjoy! please don’t be a silent reader!! )
°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )
au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!
“These are delicious” Trevor practically moaned as he shoved another Annie's cinnamon donut bite into his mouth, licking his lips from the excess sugar. Trevor and the youngest Hughes were walking through the second floor of the mall, wanting to go shopping instead of staying home and playing video games with her brothers and their friends. It was normal for the two of them to go out and do things, most of the time it being shopping or going mini golfing. 
“Uh huh” Stella absentmindedly agreed with him, her head nodding along with her words, but her focus was on something else…on someone else. Trevor noticed her emotionless tone and quickly looked at her, watching as her eyes quickly went from in front of them to behind them. Trevor tries to follow her gaze to figure out what she was looking at, but no dice. Trever raised his eyebrow and spoke quickly “Are we being followed or somethin?” 
“What?” Stella spluttered out as she quickly turned her head to look up at a confused Trevor. Trevor stops at a table for two, setting the bag of donuts and his bag from hot topic on the table before sitting down. Stella joins him sitting down, her eyes going to the fountain where her attention was being lured too. Trevor opened his mouth to ask what is up with her, but instead chooses to just follow her gaze. 
His eyes widening in surprise when he sees what — no who, that had stolen Stella's attention. There sitting at the fountain, now alone; was a boy who seemed to be Stella's age, maybe a year older. Trevor looked back and forth between the two a few times in shock, the look in Stella's eyes was clear, it was obvious Stella had a crush on whoever that boy is. Trevor didn't know how to feel about that, when did Stella even start to like boys? Trevor thought with a confused frown. 
Trever pushed that protective urge to the side, and before he could stop himself, he was saying “You should go talk to him.” 
“Who?” Stella tried to play it off, acting as if Trevor totally didn't catch her staring at her crush. She quietly panicked, she had tried so hard to keep her crush a secret, only her best friends Lily and Carmen knew about it. Stella doesn't necessarily think Trevor would tell her brothers about her crush, but still, it's embarrassing. 
“I don't know bigfoot  — obviously the boy you have been staring at like some obsessed fangirl” Trevor snapped, his tone full of sarcasm. Stella feels her cheeks warm up in embarrassment, and she was quick to deny his words. “I was not!” 
“You were drooling and everything” Trevor smirks, he was obviously teasing her. Stella’s eyes widened and for a foolish moment she believed him, she brought her hand to her mouth and Trevor broke out into his loud laughter. Stella realized he was just joking and gently kicked his shin from under the table, bringing her hands up to cover her warm cheeks. “Trevor!” 
“But seriously, just go talk to him” Trevor speaks up after he was done with laughing, wiping at his eyes where tears almost fell out from how hard he was laughing. Stella rolls her eyes and drops her hands from her face to rest on the cold table, nervously playing with the corner of the plastic bag. “I can't” stella mumbles out with a defeated sigh, her eyes drifting to him one again before looking down at her hands. 
“Why not? Does he have a girlfriend? Look at you tiny Hughes, going after a taken man” Trevor smiles cheekily, shaking his head dramatically. Very much enjoying teasing her. Stella's eyes nearly bulge out of her head, and she shouts quietly so the couple at the table near them wouldn't hear “he doesn't have a girlfriend!” Trevor feels a faint smirk form on his lips at how defensive she sounded. 
“Then I don't see the problem” his confusion is obvious in his tone. He doesn't have a girlfriend, he's sitting alone, her brothers aren’t here to stop her, it's the perfect chance for her to go talk to him. 
“I…i don't know what to say” Stella muttered, so quiet that Trevor almost didn’t hear her. Her voice showed how embarrassed she felt, she didn't have experience talking to boys that weren't her brothers or their friends. Especially popular boys from her school like he is. Trevor lets out a small hum of understanding now getting why she was acting so shy about this. Well, this is his time to shine, knowing that her brothers will not give her dating advice. 
“So, this is the plan” Trevor starts, his mind already coming up with a plan that would help Stella talk and maybe even ask the guy she obviously has a crush on, out. Stella listens intently to everything that was coming out of Trevor's mouth, she knew he had experience with dating. Trevor starts explaining the plan as if it was a hockey game plan, and poor nervous Stella tried her best to keep up with what he was saying, but she was getting lost with his hand movements and some terms he used. 
“Are you sure?” Stella asked him unsurely, her eyes glancing back to the fountain where he was still sitting, his attention on his phone. He was so different from the boys she was used to, he didn't play hockey, he was on the baseball team, and his personality was completely different from Stella's. Her best friends Lily and Carmen honestly didn't understand why Stella had a thing for him, they didn't really like him. Trevor gave stella a reassuring smile and nod “You'll be fine stell”
“But..But I'm hanging out with you, i don't wanna leave you alone” Stella frowned, not wanting to leave Trevor alone. She came to the mall to spend time with him, not someone else. And she was also stalling. Trever smiled at Stella's words; she really is the sweetest. Trevor waves stella off “Ah don't worry I’ll be fine.” 
“Go get him tiger” Trevor gave Stella a reassuring nod, before playfully doing a scratch movement with his hand and if Stella wasn’t so nervous, she would have laughed at his humor. Stella let out a heavy sigh and gave herself a reassuring nod before she got up and slowly walked towards the fountain. Her mind tried to look back on Trevor's plan but all that came up was blank and that's when Stella started to panic, she turned around to go back to Trevor and give up. She makes eye contact with Trevor who's giving her a smile and thumbs up, shooing her off with his hands. 
“I can do this” Stella muttered, she turned back around and this time her steps were not as slow, and they were much more confident. She stopped when she was a few steps in front of him, she swallowed the lump of nerves and formed a smile on her lips “Hi Max” Max looked up from his phone and to stella who was standing in front of him, squinting his eyes for a moment as he tried to remember who she is, his mind raked through the memories he had of some of the hottest girls in his school and he still couldn't remember who she is, only realizing when he remembered seeing her with Luke and jack in the halls. 
“Oh, Sarah, right? Jack and Luke's little sister” Max had a cocky smirk on his face as he looked at Stella up and down. Max’s words had Stella's smile falter, but she still tried to keep her smile up even though his words hurt a little. “It's stella actually, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to join me getting some ice cr-” 
“Wait, are you asking me on a date Hughes?” Max cut Stella off, a laugh leaving his lips. He was in shock that she had asked him, he stood up and took a step towards stella. Stella felt so small under his gaze and height, she felt intimidated, and he wasn’t even that much taller than her. Her eyes glanced at the table where Trevor was sitting, hoping that he would sense her panic, but Trevor noticed her head turning and quickly looked away, not wanting Stella to know that he definitely was watching them. Stella started fidgeting with her fingers and her nervousness showed as she stumbled over her words “I…i don't know, i guess.” 
“You don't know? You guess?” Max tilted his head as he looked down at her, his tone sounded as if he was mocking her, and he spoke slowly as if he was talking to a child. Stella frowned and looked at him in confusion, why was he being so mean. Max looked away from Stella for a moment and glanced at a pretty blonde girl that was walking out of pink. She had a big grin on her face as she talked with her friends, her makeup looked so pretty on her, she was wearing a short skirt that showed off her nice legs and a crop top. Completely different from Stella, who was a brunette, who had no makeup on, who was wearing a pair of mom jeans and wearing one of her mom's old hockey sweaters. Max smirked tauntingly down at stella “Sorry Hughes, you're nowhere close to my type.” 
Stella felt tears form in her eyes as she watched Max walk away from her and towards the group of girls, Stella's hands dropped to her side in defeat and a strong and unexpected feeling of heartache and self-doubt came over her. She turned and sat down on the edge of the fountain, her eyes looking down at her converse that had a ton of doodles on them from her and Luke, she sniffled and tried to stop her tears from falling. Trevor who was watching felt his stomach drop at how defeated Stella looked, he had noticed the smirk the boy had given Stella and immediate red flags went up. 
Trevor grabs the two bags off the table and quickly walks over to Stella, guilt in his chest knowing that he was the one to push her to talk to him and seeing by the way he walked off and the way she was on the verge of tears, it did not go well. And man did he want to storm after that cocky fuck and show him what happens if he makes stella cry, but he was more focused on making sure she was okay and how to make her feel better. 
“Come on” Stella lifted her head at the sound of Trevor's voice, and she's welcomed with Trevor holding out his hand for her. Stella sniffles and tries to blink away her tears, she didn't want to cry about some stupid boy, a stupid boy that her friends warned her about, she should have listened to them. Stella grabbed Trevor's hand and let him pull her up to her feet and lead her away from the fountain “Where are we going?” 
“I’m taking you to get some ice cream” Trevor smiled as he pulled Stella towards the food court, where the ice cream shop he noticed Stella's eyes brightened up at the sight of, earlier. Trevor didn't let go of Stella's hand as they walked towards the food court. A frown decorated her face “But we just had donuts.” 
“No, you had like one donut bite, and I ate the rest of them, who cares anyway” Trevor shrugs before glancing at Stella who still had a frown on her lips, he felt really guilty. Trevor nudged stella’s shoulder with his and gives her a cheeky smile once she looks at him “I'll even get you 3 scoops as long as you don't tell Ellen” 
“How are you not getting sick?” Stella questioned Trevor, a slight look of disgust on her face as she watched Trevor scarf down his third scoop of rocky road, she didn't understand how he could eat so much. The two were sitting at one of the tables in the food court, Trevor was happily eating his ice cream and jumping from topic to topic to try to distract Stella from what had happened. Trevor looked up from his dripping cone and across the table where Stella is sitting, she was absentmindedly stirring the ice cream that was in her bowl, she had barely touched her 2 scoops, only picking at the reese’s she had as a topping. 
“I have the stomach of a bear” Trevor said with a mouthful of ice cream and waffle cone, Stella grimaces and gives him a look of confusion at his words “What does that even mean?” 
“It means if you're not going to eat your ice cream i am” Trevor snaps at her jokingly, as he licks his lips free of ice cream. Stella almost smiled at the goofy look Trevor had given her, he really was trying to cheer her up and she really appreciated it. Trevor looked behind Stella and his eyes lit up with an idea on what to do next, hoping that it would cheer her up. Trevor takes one more big bite of his ice cream before he stands up and tosses the rest of his cone in the nearby trash bin. 
“Come on, I have a fantastic idea” Trevor grinned, really expressing the word fantastic. Stella doesn't complain as Trevor also throws away her ice cream, usually Stella would have been pissed if someone touched her ice cream…but she just wasn't in the mood. Stella lets Trevor help her out of the chair and drag her away from the table, following after him and sassily saying “Now that's a scary sentence” Trevor looked back at her and gave her an unimpressed look at her words. 
“Ta-da!” He excitedly exclaimed as he pointed towards the stand that had a line of different animals that you could ride, Stella had seen kids ride on them many times whenever she came to the mall. Emphasis on the word's kids, so she was confused on why Trevor would bring her here. Stella voiced her confusion “Trevor what are w ⸺” Trevor cut stella off with a smile and a pat to the shoulder “Wait here, I'll be right back.” 
Trevor walked up to the stand and greeted the girl working at the stand with a smile, the said girl looking up from her phone boredly at the sound of approaching footsteps. “We’d like two animals please” Trevor smiles as he tilted his head, motioning his head towards Stella who stood a few steps behind him. 
The girl with the name tag ‘Lani’ looked between the two, Stella giving her a shy smile when they locked eyes. Lani looked back at Trevor, “Aren't the two of you a little too old for this?” she asked boredly as she loudly popped the gum in her mouth, her freshly manicured finger pointing towards the sign that had the height limit. 
“Listen this dickhead just broke my little sister's heart, so no i don't really care if we’re too old” Trevor whispered quickly as he leaned towards the girl so Stella wouldn't hear. The girl's eyes softened, and she glanced behind him to see Stella awkwardly standing there, looking down at her shoes. Trevor could see the hesitation in Lani’s eyes and he's quick to pull out his wallet from his pocket and hold out a 20-dollar bill “I'll give you an extra 20.” 
“You guys can pick your animal” Lani spoke loudly so stella could hear as well, giving stella a smile before looking back at Trevor and speaking quietly so only he could hear “Keep the 20, but here” Trevor slips the bill back into his wallet and watches as she quickly writes something on a sticky note before holding it out for him, he sees a number on the bright green paper and he takes it into his hand and looks up at her, Lani giving him a wink before she moved to go help stella. 
He whispers a cheerful ‘Score’ as he slips the paper into his back pocket, he walks over to Stella and smiles when he sees her sitting on a panda, Lani unlocking it for her and turning it on. Stella was a little hesitant about doing this, but Lani was nice and complemented her choice of animal. Stella smirked at Trevor when she noticed him walking over to her, she points to the black and white striped animal “You have to ride that one.” 
Trevor rolls his eyes but nevertheless he moves to get on the zebra, it was true they definitely were too tall to ride them, well Trevor was. Stella could comfortably put her feet on the footsteps while Trevor felt his knees already start to ache, but the slight pain was all worth it when he saw the smile on Stella's face and heard the laugh that escaped her lips as she moved past him, she was smaller so her panda could move faster. Something that Trevor loudly complained about. 
Stella and Trevor's motives quickly became competitive as they raced around the course. While Stella grinned and led the race, Trevor trailed behind her and laughed as she almost tipped over a few times as she went around the corners. If he wasn't so determined to try to beat her he would have pat himself on the back for taking her mind off the disaster that happened not too long ago. He was relieved to see Stella smiling and laughing, especially because she made it clear she wasn't interested in his idea at first. 
After a few more laps the smiling duo got off the animals and Stella went to sit on a bench while Trevor paid. A frown couldn't help but make its way back on Stella's face as she sat there alone and thought about what happened. It was humiliating and embarrassing. Stella looked at Trevor and watched as he happily talked to Lani as he paid and her frown quickly disappeared, she was lucky to have someone like Trevor in her life. 
Yes, he could be annoying at times, but he cares for her and that means a lot, and even though it didn't work out, he did spend five minutes trying to help her come up with a plan to talk to a guy she liked, and then spent the next hour after, doing his best to cheer her up and make her feel better. Stella was so lost in thought she didn't notice Trevor walking back over to her and sitting next to her on the bench.  “Do you wanna talk about it?” Trevor asked her, breaking her out of thought. 
“He’s not worth the words” Stella smiled as she turned her head to face a now grinning Trevor, he was happy to hear her say that because she's right, he's not worth it and he's a fucking idiot for treating her like that, and he wants to make sure she would never let a guy treat her like that again. Trevor rests his arm on the bench and twists his body to face her “Boys suck anyway!” 
Stella smiled and let out a small laugh, nodding in agreement, that boy in particular sucked a lot. Trevor gently squeezed Stella's shoulder and gave her a smile, and Stella could see that his eyes didn't hold any humor, he was serious as he spoke “Whatever he said that made you cry, just know that it's nothing but lies. Okay?” Stella nodded and gave him a reassuring smile. 
“Thank you trev” Stella broke the silence between the two, Trevor looked away from the small group of laughing kids and their parents and looked to Stella, a confused look on his face. “For what?” If anything, I should be apologizing because I'm the one who convinced you to go talk to him, he thought to himself. 
“For getting me ice cream, for making me ride those stupid animals” Stella started, and before Trevor could defend the animals she continued to talk. “And helping me realize that he's just a stupid baseball boy” The look of disgust that comes across Trevor's face at her words is comical. 
“He plays baseball. Of course, he's a dick” Trevor scoffs and shakes his in disbelief while Stella rolls her eyes at his dramatics. Trevor continued his rant as he gave Stella a disappointed look “That's where you went wrong tiny Hughes, you gotta go for a hockey guy!” 
“I would never!” Stella exclaimed loudly with a look of disgust, quickly shaking her head no in disagreement, a hockey boy?!?!? Stella would never! “Hey what's that supposed to mean?” Trevor asked her, his face showing how offended he is, he rested his hand on his chest in shock. Stella just laughs loudly and gives him a pointed look; he really didn't want her to explain further.
“Mark my words Estella Hughes, you will end up marrying a hockey player” Trevor smirked proudly as he leaned back on the bench, spreading his arms wide to rest on the back of it. Trevor laughed when he saw Stella scrunch her nose up in disgust and shake her head, but she still had a smile on her face, her dimples out on display. They made eye contact and laughter quickly erupted from their mouths. 
“Besides I should be thanking you” Trevor smiled as he nudged her knee with his after they both calmed down from their laughter. Stella hummed and turned her head to face him “Why?” 
“Who knew girls find boys who are sweet to their little sister so attractive?” Trevor smirks jokingly as he pulls out the paper with Lani’s number out of his back pocket and holds it up. Stella smiles and glances between Trevor and back at Lani who seemed to be getting her things, maybe her shift was over? Lani was nice to her in the tiny time she knew her “She's really pretty, you should go talk to her.” 
Trevor smiles at Stella's kindness, she was a great wing woman. Trevor slipped the paper back into his back pocket before wrapping his arm around Stella's shoulder and pulling her closer, playfully putting her in a soft headlock that made her laugh, before resting his arm around her shoulder when Stella slapped his arm. Trevor smiled down at stella who was already looking up at him “Nahh, I'd rather hang with you.” 
Stella grins and rests her head on his shoulder, Trevor was a great friend and even better honorary brother. And even though some things she wished she could forget happened today; it was a great day, nonetheless. Trevor was right, boys do suck, with the exception of him of course. 
“Ditto” 
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I love Stella and Trevor’s relationship so much, they are so fun to write! Max is a major jerk and one my friends who read this over for me mentioned bringing max back for some drama? I’m not so sure, let me know what you guys think! )
°. — taglist ( @privatemythss @juraj-slafkovsky @cixrosie @toasttt11 )
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shadowkoo · 2 months
Text
A Sweet Mistake
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→ Summary: Your boyfriend texts you something rather surprising that sends you spiraling through past memories.
↠ yeosang x f.reader | 1.1k words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, angst, meet ugly au, (there’s also a dash of fluff bc why not)
→ Prompts: #32. “I dare you.” + #48. Sometimes you question how everything could have turned out if that day had gone differently.
→ Warnings: getting dumped via text, praise, being called a good girl (bc you are duh), talking on the phone while being fingered, Yeosang is kinda depicted as an dumb asshole but you’ll forgive me (and him) by the end lol
→ Author Note: Thank you for requesting @anyamaris I hope you enjoy! Learn more about my mini requests here. As always, all likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated <3
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Your phone dings, drawing your attention away from the book you’ve been devouring for the last hour. You blink several times before staring at the text you just received in total disbelief.
[ From Y♡ at 3:15 PM ]
‘I think we should break up’
A few seconds later another message pops up.
‘I’m sorry’
Your heart races as you reread both. He can’t be serious. No way. After how you spent all evening together? The fresh memory floods your mind…
- Flashback begins -
Yeosang smirks as his fingers curl inside you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
“Wait, wait!” you rush as you reach for your ringing phone, “That’s my boss's ringtone.”
“Go on, answer it.” His eyes flare, “I dare you.”
You’re not one to back down from a challenge, so you do. And at that very same moment, his lips find their way around your already sensitive clit.
“H-Hello,” you answer shakily, “Yes Ma’am, your schedule? It’s been confirmed and emailed to you. Uh-huh. Yes, okay. Will do.” You answer your boss's questions quickly and silence your moans with a hand over your mouth as she rambles on about flights for her upcoming trip.
Your breath catches in your throat as the heat grows hotter in your lower belly, you’re almost there.
Yeosang groans as your walls begin to tighten around his fingers. “God, you’re perfect,” he whispers before licking you right where you need him. “Let go for me, baby.”
“I’ll look into it and get back to you!” you rush out, quickly hanging up before she’s suspicious, and come undone onto your boyfriend's fingers and mouth, leaving behind a soft sheen of your release.
“That’s my good girl. I love you.”
- Flashback ends -
And that was just the start of the night. So what changed between then and now? He suddenly doesn’t love you anymore?
That thought sends a sharp pain directly to your chest and tears well in your eyes while you type a message back to him.
[ Sent at 3:30 PM ]
‘Why??? What’s going on?’
[ From Y♡ at 3:31 PM ]
‘I just think it’s for the best…’
‘I’ll come by your place later to pick up my things.’
So his mind is already made up. It’s a good thing that your workday is almost over. You need to go home and cry. Maybe you’ll doordash some dinner and ice cream too. You certainly deserve it.
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The ride home on the train is quick, and thankfully no one pays any attention to you as tears fall silently. And before you know it, you’re staring at a box half full of things that belong to Yeosang.
Your fingers play with the bracelet around your wrist, the one he bought you for your three-month anniversary. Its charms are a sun, strawberry, and pie slice, all of which are a small reminder of the day you first met.
- Second flashback begins -
The soft spring sunshine tickles your skin as you walk to the train station in the mid-morning light. The birds are singing, flowers are blooming, and it seems like it’s going to be a good day.
You smile. Not just a good day, a great day.
All of those happy thoughts come quickly crashing down when something from above smacks onto your head, easily knocking you down to the ground.
You gasp after the sudden impact. “Ow. What the fuck?” Your fingers reach up and touch something gooey that’s now covering your hair and face. “Ew.”
“Oh my god! Are you okay?” a stranger asks, kneeling down beside you to help. “Here, I’ve got a couple of napkins in my pocket. Let me help you.”
“What is it? Why is it warm and sticky?!” you panic, not sure exactly what to do in this situation.
“It seems to be a type of dessert? A strawberry pie, perhaps?”
“You’re kidding,” you groan. “So someone decided to just throw a pie out a window? The universe hates me.”
The kind stranger laughs, “Or maybe the universe thought you could use a little more sweetness in your life?”
“Unlikely, but thanks,” you say, using one of the napkins he handed you to wipe your eyes clean. You can see better now, he’s a cute stranger - if you have to be totally honest. Of course you would meet someone attractive in a ridiculous way like this. It’s just your luck.
You lick your lips, it’s tasty at least. “What a waste of good pie.”
“I can’t believe it landed directly on your head. I watch the whole thing happen in slow motion,” he says, struggling to hold back another laugh. “I’m Yeosang. Normally I don’t laugh at pretty girls who almost get knocked out by flying desserts, so my apologies.”
“Apology accepted. I’m Y/N, normally I don’t smell like I came directly out of a strawberry bake off but here we are.”
- Second flashback ends -
And that was the beginning of it all.
Sometimes you question how everything could have turned out if that day had gone differently. For instance, if you would have been slightly late to leave for work you wouldn’t be sobbing while packing up his things right now. Which is the last thing you thought you would be doing after falling so easily for him.
But you’ve never been one to beg for someone to stay. You’ve always said, if they wanna leave, let them.
‘He’s worth fighting for.’ The voice in your head practically screams at you. ‘Don’t give up so easily.’
Your doorbell chimes, breaking your thoughts and letting you know that he’s here. He has a key, which is how he normally lets himself in, but you guess things are different now.
You take a deep breath before opening the door, not sure what to expect exactly.
“Hi,” he smiles nervously and looks down at his hands which are holding…flowers? “Can we pretend the last four hours didn’t happen? I had a momentary freak-out and realized that texting you about breaking up was a mistake.”
“What?” your brows furrow in confusion.
“I still want to be with you. It just kind of hit me earlier how much I love you and I can’t imagine you not being in my life. But everyone leaves me at some point, and to make it hurt less I thought that by breaking up with you, it would make a future difficult thing less painful in the present.”
“Well,” you ask, crossing your arms. “Did it work?”
“No, I’m an idiot.”
“That may be true, but I love you anyway.” You hug him tightly and let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Next time you want to run because you’re scared, just remember that I will always love you, even when you make mistakes - like believing that I’m going to leave you.”
“Well, that’s good to know. I’m still sorry.”
“Good. You should be.”
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miya-rin · 1 year
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"i can't believe you got in a fight.”
“he hit me first, you just expect me to stand there and take that?"
a small chuckle leaves his mouth at your choice of words, standing between you parted legs osamu has been patching you up after a ‘small mishap’ with one of your classmates.
"obviously not, its just…" his voice trails off as he rummages around in the first aid kit until he finds an alcohol wipe, gently tearing it open before swiping it across your cheek, you wince in discomfort and he gives you an apologetic look. "sorry — its just, you're not really the type to hit someone, like i know you can defend yourself but cmon, you knocked him out."
"deserved."
"you really are something else." he laughs as he starts to dig around to find something else to slather over your face.
"thankyou."
"not a compliment."
“i'm gonna take it as one."
"i knew you would."
"yeah yeah whatever, you would have done the same.”
“oh yeah totally.” he picks up a tube of antibacterial cream and gently starts to apply it to the cut on your cheek, making sure to be extra careful as to not put too much.
“thankyou by the way.” he tilts his head up to look you in the eye for a split second before focusing back on the cream in his hand.
"hm?"
"for cleaning me up and that, thankyou."
"yeah well you probably wouldn't have, the blood would just be dried up all over your hands and face.”
"oh shut up," you let out a light laugh and by god you sound amazing "i'm not that bad."
"sure, whatever you say.”
the room elopes in silence — comfortable silence, the kind where you're not too worried if someone speaks or not, and yet you do.
"say, how long have you been dying your hair?"
"oh, i'm not sure, wh-" his words are cut short as he feels your hands snake up his undercut and into the dyed strands atop his head. shit he thinks, he so badly wants to look up at you, but he knows that if he does he won't be able to look away.
"it's really soft, what conditioner do you use? it must be good for it to not be completely dead."
"yeah." he stutters slightly, but just enough that you might not have been able to hear it. god he hopes you didn't hear it.
he still doesn't answer your question, staying quiet for a good minute or so before you decide to take action. gently tugging at his hair, an indication for him to look at you, he puts down whatever he was fiddling with and his eyes meet yours. they're a lot wider than normal, he almost looks scared, but from the dusting of pink spread across his cheeks you can tell it's something different. hes nervous.
“osamu, did you hear me?” the way you’re lightly scratching at his scalp turns him to putty in your hands. “i asked you a question.”
“uhm..i started dying it when i was like 13? so about 5 years now. and whatever conditioner my ma brings home.” you hum in approval as you continue to mess around with his hair.
“you know…i should probably finish bandaging you up.” he makes a start at grabbing some plasters to put over your bruised and bloody knuckles, avoiding eye contact even harder than before.
“wow, you wanna get rid of me that quickly? youre cold osamu.”
thats gets him to look at you.
“i never said that.”
“dont act dumb now, i heard you loud and clear.”
“youre putting words in my mouth.”
“oh so you’re accusing me now? this isnt the osamu i know and love.” as soon as that last word falls from your lips osamu burns a crimson red from his face to his neck and probably lower, choking on his spit and trying to catch his breath. if only you had your phone on you.
“you what?” he can finally speak by the looks of it.
“i love you. dont act like you didnt know.”
“yn, tell me youre joking.”
“are you rejecting me right now? thats a mean way to do it dont you think?”
“are you kidding me? ive had a crush on you since we were 15.”
“i know, why dont you do something about it?” you say with a sly smirk. he still looks on edge at the whole interaction, but theres no time like the present.
he lifts up his large and calloused hands to grab both sides of your face before bringing you into a sweet but passionate kiss, it doesnt last long as you are both conscious of the fact that anyone could walk into the schools medical room, but it is just enough to leave you both satisfied after years of pining. pulling away you are met with that boyish smile you fell in love with all those years ago.
“now that i think about it, im kinda glad you got into that fight…”
“so am i.”
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spencersties · 1 year
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Gif is by @fightingdragonswithwho
First kisses with Spencer in different tropes
A/N: Just a little drabble I thought would be fun to write, let me know if I missed any important ones out.
Content/Warnings: Kissing (obviously), I'd say this one is rated like 15/16+ so read at your own risk, fluff, angst
Word Count: 280
Masterlist | Navigation
Strangers to lovers:
A little awkward, a little hesitant but so so caring.
I'm thinking maybe like a little accidental brush of the lips, followed by some incoherent mumbling and an intentional kiss filled with a gentle sort of newness after that.
Rivals to lovers:
A short and sudden kiss, probably to cut off the other's opposing argument. It's quick and maybe a little too harsh, and it definitely stuns you both into silence for a couple of seconds. It's immediately followed by a passionate kiss that has you moulded close together.
Friends with benefits:
This one is very vivid in my mind for some reason.
I feel like he would hug you from behind, wrapping his arms around you, totally comfortable with touching your body in an intimate way. You'd turn your head and share a slow and passionate kiss that lasts little while and has you both a bit out of breath.
Second chance romance:
One hand under your shirt, trailing your upper body, the other hand finding it's way into your hair. Maybe even stroking the side of your face as he pours everything into the kiss. Relief, longing, possibly some frustration. It's everything about him wrapped up in a kiss that escalates ridiculously quickly because he's just had enough of being away from you.
Enemies to lovers:
A panted "kiss me" leaving either your or his lips and you're colliding. It's rough and all-consuming, and he's biting your lip while you're tugging harshly at his hair. All of a sudden, you're backed against a wall with him all around you and your hands around his neck, both of your lips a bright and swollen red.
Request to be on my taglist
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wordsarelife · 1 year
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HII i love your writing. Can I get an order of 15, 16, and 18 from your prompt list with Lockwood x reader :D
—delicate
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pairing; anthony lockwood x reader
summary: some flirty banter in a near death situation
note: sure thing, thank you so much, that means a lot!! i’m sorry this is so short
prompts: are in cursive :)
"so do you wanna explain what happened?" Anthony Lockwood asked, while you swung your rapier at the two ghosts in front of you both
"yeah, eh-" you paused, stepping back as one of the wraiths snapped at you "switch sides, please" Lockwood made a quick turn behind your back, so that you were now facing the ghost he had been fighting before. "there was this old lady and she was all alone, and she had so many groceries-" you paused, feeling the unamused look Lockwood was throwing your way
"so you just decided to take off without another word, you could've at least told me, then I wouldn't have to save you in the middle of the night"
"I forgot sorry" you muttered and took a swing to the left, before the wraith could touch you. "do you have a flair?" you asked, running away seemed to be your most promising option
"I think I do, actually" Lockwood began searching through his pockets with his free hand. "luckily I know what a dumbass my girlfriend can be, so I always have one with me"
"haha" you repeated sarcastically, "of all people, you are in no position to criticise my life choices"
"as your boyfriend, yes I am" he smiled suggestively "could you lend me a hand and search for it, I can't find it while fighting"
"but I can?" you asked, nodding at the ghost you were holding just a mere foot away
"I'll take care of them, just be quick"
"okay" you shrugged, knowing that those weren't any empty words of his, if he said he could deal with them both, then he could.
"now" Lockwood called and you stepped behind him, handing him your rapier in one swift motion, before you began to feel along his coated body
"woah, you've never been that rough before" he joked, clearly hinting at your quick motions, because you would normally take your time. well, that was, under totally different circumstances of course.
"why are you always flirting in near death situations?"
"turns me on, the thrill" he shrugged his shoulders and you snorted
"sure, baby" you shook your head in disbelief, wondering how he was always able to joke around in these situations
he ignored your words "are you taking this long on intentionally?"
"of course, because I like feeling you up more than surviving"
"wouldn't put it past you"
you slapped his side and something rattled, your eyes grew bright at the recognition that it was the flare you had been searching for. "I got it" you let him know quickly
"good" he repeated a bit out of breath "mind activating it?"
without another word, you threw the flare, taking back your rapier and Lockwoods free hand in a swift movement, before you both started running. to your own luck, you weren't far away from portland row, which made it easy to twist the key and get inside, before the ghosts had caught up to you
you were both leaning against the door with your backs, breathing heavily, when Lockwood turned his head at you "would you like to continue in the bedroom?"
you snorted in disbelief "don't tell me this seriously turned you on?"
"eh, maybe a bit" he shrugged "I can't help it with you and your hands"
"you're an idiot"
"is that a yes?"
"obviously"
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gardensgatekeeper · 6 months
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Bedhead
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Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader
Word Count: 846
Warnings: Graphic sexual content, fingering, swearing, penetrative sex, dirty talk. Really just all the things.
Tbh forgot I wrote this and now I'm having terrible Jake thoughts. Enjoy ;)
When you got the call that you had been booked as the official hairstylist for Greta Van Fleet on their upcoming tour, you thought you were dreaming, ready to wake up and resume life as normal at any moment. You had been a fan of their music for a couple of years and were a little nervous to meet them the first time, but all of them were so kind and welcoming. Fast forward a few weeks and you’re truly having the time of your life. Though you would say you’ve grown close with all of the guys from the time they’ve spent in your chair, you and Jake ended up becoming the closest, as his wild and unruly hair has earned him much more time in your care. Though your relationship has been mostly platonic, you couldn’t ignore his occasional wandering glances or the way his hand sometimes brushed a little too close to your hips when you spin the chair to set him free.
Or tonight, when you accidentally tripped on the hair dryer cord and fell right over in his lap. “Fuck I’m sorry.” You rushed, trying to quickly get out of his personal space. He let out a silent grunt and only then did you realize where your hands were. Your face had to be red as a tomato as you stared at him in total embarrassment. “Shit Jake I-“ You began. “S’okay sweetheart, just give me a minute will ya?” He softly requested, closing his eyes. You nodded, though realizing he couldn’t see your response with eyes closed. Since he was pretty much done, you decided to clean up your station a bit to save yourself a few minutes after the show. As you were wrapping the cord around a flat iron, you felt two hands grab your hips, a gasp leaving your lips. There, behind you, Jake stood, staring at your reflection in the mirror you stood in front of. “Darling, I thought I would be able to handle this little situation, but that’s proving to be a challenge when I know you’re right here looking like a sight for sore eyes.” His hot breath whispered against your neck. “Jake.” was all you could manage to get out. “Tell me to stop at any time and I will. You’re in complete control, but right now I want nothing more than to bend you over this counter and take you completely.” He slowly traced his hand from your neck, ghosting over your nipple, before resting at the top of the waistband of your leggings. Instead of words, all you could do in response was let out a heavy sigh “And I think you want that too, huh?” “Fuck Jake. Yeah, yeah I want it. Please don’t stop.” You were ashamed at how quickly you gave yourself up to his mercy. Not wasting any time, especially since call time was in 15 minutes, his hands made their way to your core that was already slick with desire. “All of this, just for me?” Though your eyes were closed, you could sense the smirk in his tone, but you didn’t care. You grabbed his hand and pushed him closer, needing some sort of relief. “Just be patient, I'll get you there doll.” You whimpered as his fingers went to work, curling in you, finding the one spot that made your knees buckle. He chuckled at the effect he had on you, continuing for a few more minutes until you felt the warm feeling building in your core. You latched onto his arm, “Jake I’m gonna-“ But just as you thought you were about to find release, he removed his fingers, making you gasp from the empty feeling. He moved at lightning speed to remove your leggings and bend you over the counter before you felt his hard cock teasing your entrance. “Please jake, stop teasi-“ You couldn’t even finish your sentence as he rammed into you with no warning, a yelp coming from your lips. “Gonna need you to keep quiet so nobody hears, think you can do that for me?” He leaned down, whispering in your ear. “Yeah, yeah” You breathed out in between his unforgiving thrusts. Soon enough, you were beginning to see white spots again as your release was approaching. “Are you almost there? I can feel you clenching around my cock. Feels so heavenly." His words went straight to your core and you had to bite your lip to keep yourself from screaming out for the whole venue to hear. He spilled into you soon after as the two of you paused to collect yourselves. “God that was-“ you breathed out. “Yeah” He chuckled, slowly pulling out and re-adjusting himself. As you did the same, you let out a frustrated sigh as his hair was a complete tangled mess yet again. He chuckled at your demeanor, “Does that mean I have to get back in the chair again?” He grinned. “Jake, you’re gonna be the death of me.” You said with your hands on your hips. “Touché darling.”
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happilyfeatherafter · 2 months
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Happilyfeatherafter’s ficrec Fridays
Back back back again, and I don't know guys, I think we should all just totally stab Caesar! Welcome back to a new fortnight of fics that I’ve read and loved recently.
If you want to find more you can see my previous rec lists here!
15 March 2024
Are You Writing From the Heart? by  @luckshiptoshore is now complete!! Congrats Luck! Full disclosure, Luck is one of my very best friends, but that just means I know not only how much of a talented fic writer she is, but also how much of her heart and soul she poured into writing this love letter to queer storytelling, season 4 Destiel as a romcom, meta text (and subtext), and finding out who you really are when society and your upbringing is fighting against you. Castiel is a ghostwriter for L.S. Shore's Supernatural novels about Neal and his brother. Caught in a storytelling rut, Cas finds himself adding the fallen angel character of Bel...what could possible go wrong? Meanwhile at his local writing coffee shop spot, he meets the handsome stranger Dean who is an up and coming standup comedian and Supernatural fanboy. They because firm friends, but that's definitely it because Cas is straight....right?! Following these two dummies as they FAIL TO USE THEIR WORDS is a total joy, as Luck's humorous and emotional writing paired with her eye for detail is so very on point, and I'm so excited more people will finally get to read this story in full.
Baker Six by komodobits because !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I cannot tell you how goddamn excited I was to get this email notification and finally be back in 91w world, and to witness these early stages of Dean and Cas' relationship through Dean's eyes at last. This barely needs a rec because it's THEE 91w Dean, but komodobits hasn't missed a beat in getting back inside their heads and I was once again swept away by this iconic love story against the odds. Head the trigger warnings as always, this is truly on the front lines as a medic in a war zone. Baker Six was written for the very good cause of the fandom Palestine fundraiser, in support of the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund. Please donate if you can!
Truth & despair by @shallowseeker was a recent discovery and such a fascinating read! It's set in a post-15x18 verse, but importantly it features a fun Sam narrative perspective that delights in his lens by...being a bit of an unsympathetic oblivious dummy (affectionate). I really appreciate a crunchy Sam characterisation and oooboy does this pay off. Dean is steeped in his grief for Cas, and Sam is oh so concerned. He reaches out to Mia Vallens to understand his own grieving, and that leads to him making a discovery...Dean's memories of Cas' death aren't what he claims happened. With the unwelcome reappearance of Chuck (he lost...didn't he?) and LITERAL sinkholes appearing in the fabric of the universe, can they figure out what's happening to save Cas and save the world? This wip plays with physics, theology and narrative fuckery in such intriguing ways. I can't wait to see how it wraps up in the next two chapters.
The Leap by @friendofcarlotta started reading this one when Tina reshared it on Leap Day...because of course. I'd actually read it before but it more than lived up to the reread. 'Castiel Krushnic is a police officer in Soviet-occupied East Berlin. He is also gay, in a city where that’s a dangerous thing to be. One night, he meets Dean Winchester, a mechanic from the American sector. Their mutual attraction is instant, and a convenient hookup quickly turns into a passionate love affair that defies all rules and expectations.' Meticulously researched, emotional, heartrending and thought provoking. I highly recommend taking the leap on this fic!
See you in two weeks and OMG it's @deancaspinefest time!!!! I'm so excited *clears calendar*
Tag list under the cut - let me know if you'd like to be added to be notified of future recs!
@dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you
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