#but u can’t take the 80s out of her hair | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bobawitch · 7 months

Note

hey, i love ur writing sm!! i was wondering if you could write a platonic chris fic (or romantic, whatever u feel like writing), where they're at a party or smth and he helps the reader out when a guy keeps hitting on her and won't take a hint. thank u in advance if you write this!

a/n: omg tysm for the request and the kind words. im glad you enjoy my writing and i loved this prompt. hope you enjoy <3

pairing: ace/aro reader x chris (platonic)

cw: this does have themes of some sexual harrassment and could be found triggering to some readers. please read at your own discretion. she/her pronouns used and y/n used.

wc: 1308

Halloween night. As was said in Mean Girls it’s one of the only nights of the year when a girl can dress in a revealing way and not get absolutely destroyed by other people for it. Now you found that trend a bit cliche but who doesn’t enjoy looking good for a party? It was a party held by the triplets who had quickly become some of your favorite people in the world. Chris especially, he was your best friend. He was like a twin flame for you, plenty of the fans asked if the two of you were dating but you were quick to admit that you are aromantic and asexual. When you first told Chris he seemed a bit confused and proceeded to ask you as many questions as his funny little head could come up with. You didn’t mind answering questions and you actually appreciated that he tried to understand your romantic and sexual orientation. After that it was history, Chris was like the brother you always wanted. You spent almost all the time with each other, going to concerts and sports games together. You frequently traveled with the triplets back to Boston and Mary Lou absolutely adored you. She’d often call you to get opinions on things she was planning to buy. The triplets found this absolutely adorable and would often tease their mom about it. Mary Lou liked to call you her daughter and honestly you didn’t mind it that much.

You were currently sitting in Chris’s room watching him pick which costume he wanted to go with. Part of him debated going as Steve Harrington again, or maybe just being the 80s jazzercise coach again. You on the other hand had decided to be a little witch. Basic enough that you weren’t stressed out but could still be cute. Although you didn’t fully send into the sluttiness that usually surrounds Halloween you did have some skin showing. Chris told you you looked amazing which made you gush, you thanked him before calling him corny. “What? Corny!? I can’t compliment my best friend now??” You laughed at Chris’s fake offended face. “Nope!” You teased before looking back down at your phone. You scrolled through tik tok for a bit longer before pushing yourself up to stand. “I’m gonna wait in the kitchen.” You said and Chris nodded. “Ok, see you in a bit.”

Within no time the triplet’s house had flooded with people, mostly people you knew but a few friends brought their new partners. One person’s partner brought their brother to the party. He was a tall built fellow with sandy blonde hair and hazel eyes. He was definitely conventionally attractive though that mattered little to you. You noticed out of the corner of your eye that he was staring but you just avoided him by walking away. You were currently sitting over on the couch next to a socially exhausted Nick. You nudged his shoulder and he smiled at you with a slightly pained expression. “How you doing bud?” He sighed and rested his head on your shoulder. “I’m so tired. Why are there so many people all the time?” You sighed, laying your cheek to the top of Nick’s head. “Yeahh, parties are kind of a lot.” As you both sat and sighed in antisocial feelings Larray danced his way over to Nick, grabbing his hand and smiling at you. “Mind if I take him?” You looked at Nick who seemed to get a little excited by Larray coming to him. You smiled at the man and nodded. “Go for it.” Nick soon got up and walked away with Larray. You leaned back into the soft couch, closing your eyes for a moment before taking a sip of your root beer. You only opened your eyes upon feeling the cushions next to you sink. You turned your head to see the brother that had been staring at you all night. You furrowed your brows in confusion, quickly looking to make sure you knew where Matt, Chris, or Madi were just in case. Though in the midst of your scouting the man had gotten closer to you. “Hey hot stuff, what’s your name?” You looked at the man, suddenly feeling the need to grasp your cup a little tighter. “Uh, Y/N. Can I help you?” The man smirked and leaned closer to you, placing his arm on the back of the couch behind you. “Let me make you a drink. You look interesting. I want to get to know you.” You tried to put a polite smile on your face before shaking your head gently. “Oh uh I’m sorry I’m actually aromantic and asexual so I’m not really interested in anything.” You found that most of the time if you just told them you weren’t into it they’d leave you alone. Hopefully this guy was the same, but to your dismay the man’s smirk didn’t waiver after you turned him down. You began to stand, seeing that he was standing with you. “Oh come on, I’m sure you just haven’t found the right guy for you.” His hand grazed your wrist, soon holding it with a frightening strength. Your heart began to race and you tried to move your arm away from the guy. “No thank you, I’d like to walk away now please.” He pulled you closer to him and you shut your eyes, fear overcoming your entire body. But instead of hearing his creepiness again you heard a familiar voice. “Hey bro she said she wasn’t interested.” You opened your eyes to see Chris standing between you and the guy. He was still holding your wrist yet you were focused on Chris and the anger that seemed to radiate off his body. “Hey man, we aren't looking for any trouble. Sweetheart and I were just about to leave. No need to get angry.” The guy said, his grip tightening on your wrist. He tugged you, making you step closer to him and farther from Chris. “I’m not gonna tell you again dude. Leave her alone.” You reached out to Chris, trying to let him know you were ok. That you could handle it and that he didn’t need to worry but it was too late. You saw the guy’s mouth open but Chris was staring at his hand that gripped onto you.

Within a flash you saw Chris lunge at the guy, connecting his fist to his face and repeating. Suddenly the room fell silent as the creepy guy fell to the floor, CHris stradling to land a few more blows. The upbeat music was all you could hear for a moment before you snapped out of your daze. You quickly moved forward, grabbing Chris’s arm and forcing him to look at you. “Chris stop please!” You pleaded with your best friend, his ocean eyes boring into your own. He stopped punching the guy before letting you help him up. “Get out of my fucking house.” Chris said down to the man. “And do not EVER come back.” The guy looked at you before wiping blood away from his mouth and scrambling to his feet. He looked at Chris’s heaving body before turning and leaving, pushing multiple people away as he made his way to the door. You looked at everyone around you, most were speechless and your eyes landed on Nick and Larray. You sighed and grabbed Chris’s hand, intertwining your fingers before pulling him away from the party. Slowly people began to speak again but it was muffled behind Matt’s door. You shut the door and looked at Chris who looked directly back at you. Without a word you wrapped your arms around Chris’s torso, tears streaming your face as you buried yourself deep in Chris’s chest. He wrapped his own arms around you as he tried to catch his breath. He held you close to him as you sobbed, not wanting to let you go. “If I ever see that guy again I’ll beat the shit out of him.” You smiled gently at that, slowly calming yourself in his arms. “Thanks Chris.” “Of course Y/N. I love you, call me if anyone ever treats you like that again.” “Ok, I will. I love you too Chris.”

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #bobawitch writes #bobawitch #chris sturniolo platonic

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ltbarnes · 2 years

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Webs of Opacity

Summary: On the eve of the annual Stark Halloween party, you’ve managed to gulp down too much alcohol and tangled yourself into intricate webs of trouble. Even glittering fairies can’t escape the drama, and handsome 80’s film characters can’t always save them from sleazy boyfriends and hangovers.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Rogers!reader (adopted, of course), Steve Rogers x sister!reader, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff

Word count: 6k

Warnings: underage drinking, reader being very drunk, unconsented kissing, mild violence

A/N: This is a mess, I’m sorry. Started this last fall and rushed to get it done in time for this year. Also happy Halloween and over a week of Midnights being out. Couldn’t help myself from referencing it every other paragraph lol

Also if anyone has any scenarios or requests for my college series please please send them to me! Love your enthusiasm for my Stark U babies and want to keep writing for them

Masterlist

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Your shiny, entirely fake wings keep bumping into the ridiculous amount of people crammed into this room, and you're sure you have never apologized more times in your life than tonight. Wanda has assured you many times that, no, you should not take off your wings because you look—in her words—adorable. It was her idea, after all, to dress you up like a little flowery fairy for the Halloween party Tony has thrown tonight. She made your wings all fluttery and glittery, and the flowers in your hair sparkle every now and then. It feels like a childhood dream coming true.

"Spider-boy!" you call out over the loud music, jumping as you stretch your hand up in the air to alert the young man twenty feet away.

For a "quiet gathering" there sure are a lot of loud, drunk people here. Then again, it was your mistake to trust the promise of Stark when it came to a party.

Your jumping up and down is entirely unnecessary when you're trying to gain the attention of someone with a creepy sixth sense that allows them to just know everything happening around them. Peter already knew exactly where you were the moment you opened your mouth. It doesn't help that you're just a tiny, little bit of tipsy either.

He smiles a toothy grin as he pushes past the crowd towards you, showing glimpses of his Indiana Jones costume that's honestly a slightly surprising choice. He looks handsome though.

"Hi, Y/n!" he nearly shouts over the music, embracing you in a side hug as he takes a look at your outfit. "You're a fairy! It fits you so great, it's like you were meant to be one,” Peter exclaims happily while you chuckle lightheartedly.

"Thank you, it was Wanda's idea. Indiana Jones, huh?" you ask, raising an eyebrow in question. It's quite uncharacteristic. Last year he went as Nikola Tesla and nobody knew who he was supposed to be.

"Yeah, Tony said I had to go as something cooler this year. He'd disown me otherwise." Peter cringes while your head is thrown back in laughter.

"He told me I looked like a moth earlier," you answer with a grin on your lips, the remnants of your chuckles fading out.

"You look great, Y/n. Very sweet. Think Bucky's gonna get here any second and tell me to keep any 'punks' away from you," Peter tells you. You roll your eyes, though fondly.

"Hm, I bet he will," you hum. "Gotta send him back soon if he keeps that up. Both of them, for that sake."

You nod your head towards the blonde head sticking up in the bar crowd. Your brother is an overbearing mess that you would much rather let you be, instead of hovering protectively around your presence constantly. He seems to have eased up on his duties tonight, though, in honor of the holiday.

"I think it's good that—you know—they look out for you. There are a lot of bad guys out there," Peter says, scratching his head nervously like it would somehow offend you.

"Yeah, that's understandable. Though Steve and Bucky seem to think I'm still a kid." You scrunch your nose fondly.

"Well, you are. Kind of," Peter says. Your mouth hangs agape jokingly, with a silent scoff in answer.

"Oh, that's where we're going! You're only two years older, asshole," you say with a glare, taking a sip from the drink in your hand.

"Those two years make a world of difference." He smiles with a glint in his eyes. "Head off to college and then they'll see you as an adult, maybe."

"I'm going in January—stop looking at me like that!" you yell when he smirks, holding back a laugh. "I'm serious! Alright, okay, we're not playing nice tonight, are we?" You raise an eyebrow in question.

"Sure," he smiles. It falters just as quickly when you snatch the red solo cup out of his hand, gulping down the sweet and bitter liquid before crumpling the cup in your hands. "Hey!" Peter shouts. "You're not 21!"

"Neither are you." A victorious smile adorns your lips. You try not to show the distaste from the bitter liquid burning in your throat.

"In a few months!" Peter blushes and you fight the urge to coo at him because he gets shy over the most peculiar things.

"You're so cute, Parker," you tell him with a bop to his nose.

"Oh, piss off," he says and shakes his head.

"Learnt a new swear word? Impressive. College has really changed you."

"You're really annoying right know, you know that?"

You shake your head frantically, scrunching your nose simultaneously, and there's something different about you that Peter just noticed now.

"You're already drunk, aren't you?" he asks with realization dawning upon him. You gaze up at him with a mischievous glint and a gasp escapes him. "Y/n, Steve's gonna freak out on you!"

"He's never gonna find out. And I'm not drunk. I had three drinks earlier, 's fine," you say with a dismissive wave.

"Three drinks?" he breathes out in disbelief. "That's not little—hey! Hands off, asshole!" Peter interrupts the beginning of his speech to scare away the twenty-something with his hands on your hips.

"Dickhead," the guy mutters under his breath as he backs away. You turn around to meet Peter's eyes with a pout as the guy saunters off, a disappointed frown in between your brows.

"That guy was hot. You scared him away. You ruined my only chance," you pout.

You turn around again before Peter has the chance to answer, roaming your eyes around for the guy. With only a few seconds he's managed to land himself over by the bar, drink raised to his lips as he eyes you hungrily despite Peter's warnings. You smile, biting your lip with a newfound confidence you've never experienced. Yeah, definitely tipsy. Sober you would be hiding away in the cleaning closet by now.

"Well, yeah, he was—Y/n, hello?" Peter lays his hand on your shoulder, turning you around to meet his eyes again. "You know what? We're gonna go for a walk." He lays an arm around your shoulders, gently steering you away from the guy and into the crowd.

"Oh, where?" you ask, already forgotten the source of your previous pout. "Careful of my wings, Parker."

"It's a surprise," Peter says as he loosens his hold around your wings, glancing to see if they're alright. You stop talking almost instantly and for once he's happy to know some silence from you, because right now you can't seem to shut up and he's not used to spending time with your chipper-talkative version.

Peter pushes the two of you through the thick, sweaty crowd filled with lazy costumes and masterpieces alike, ranging from several layers thick to barely covering anything at all. He recognizes some of the people from the compound, some from his college that he doesn't even know how they got here, but most of them are complete strangers.

You send flirty glances and hellos over your shoulder to every guy you gain eye contact with. It's scary how fast the alcohol went to your brain, from being completely unnoticeable to half-drunk in a minute. Peter does not like the drunk you. Or he does, maybe, but not in a room filled with guys who just can't wait to get under your ridiculously cute dress. It's offensive really, how you can manage to look so excruciatingly innocent and hot at the same time. He'll curse out Wanda tomorrow.

The party is so packed with people that it takes ten minutes before he finds the ones he's looking for. Wanda and Natasha sip on their martinis in a ridiculously large couch, gossiping like a bunch of school girls as they shout encouragements at Sam and Tony on the dance floor. Peter sighs, nearly pushing you down on the couch next to Natasha before he slouches down himself.

"What do we have here, huh?" Natasha smirks and takes a small sip of her drink.

"She's drunk. I'm exhausted. Please take her off my hands," Peter says as he throws his head back on the couch. You let out a giggle, leaning against Natasha's shoulder.

"He's exaggerating," you say with your voice muffled by her shoulder.

"Okay, young lady. Drunk, huh?" Wanda asks, raising an eyebrow in question. Her perfectly red lips curl into a smile that shows she's not really upset about it.

"No," you mumble, scratching your nose with your manicured finger for the occasion. "Hiya, Auntie," you coo while curling up besides Natasha.

"Stop calling me Auntie," she mutters and gently pushes you off her shoulder.

"How's your boyfriend? Jake? No, John. Wait! Jack!" you fumble over your words. It might as well be any of the three names, because Natasha has been showing up with a new person on her arm every other month this year. You don't know what it is, really, but you guess you should be glad she's exploring her options.

"Jason," Natasha says through a roll of her eyes. The slightest hint of amusement can be found on her lips, but it's nothing that she shows to someone else. "And he's very much good, now stop asking. He's just getting drinks," she says and nods towards the bar.

"I like that guy," you exclaim excitedly. There's no doubt about your drunken state in this moment, because in no shape or form have you been as wounded up about any of Natasha's past partners.

"Hey, honey," Wanda catches your attention with a gentle hand on your arm, reaching across the sofa. "Where's your brother hiding? I can't imagine he would be very happy with you being drunk, no?" she asks.

"He can't know!" you exclaim with a whispered shout. "He's gonna kill me, please, Wanda."

Your eyes are blown wide open in fear. It's not that Steve would be mad—the disappointment is what you desperately want to evade. He gets that frown in between his eyebrows, puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head while looking down to the ground. Being on the receiving side of that is humiliating, on the verge of heartbreaking. You can't handle that tonight.

"I don't know, sweetheart..."

"Please, Wanda." There's tears gathering in your eyes, more so for dramatic effect than actual upset. You've slid down onto your knees in front of her, begging with your hands on her thighs.

"Oh god," Natasha mutters under her breath, setting down her drink on the table while indifferently glancing over to the bar where her boyfriend of the month resides.

She can't really handle this theatric version of you. There's a reason you're usually one of her favorites, despite your young age—your ability to be fucking quiet. Whoever gave you all that alcohol is on her damn hit list.

While she tunes out the conversation behind her, some kind of settlement is agreed upon where you, of course, get your way. No more alcohol, and Wanda won't tell your brother or Bucky what you have been up to.

When she stands up to leave, you're on your feet again. Now your attention has wandered over to Peter's costume, talking of how 'incredibly accurate to detail' it is despite being thrown together last minute by the college student. The only thing telling what he's dressed as is the hat paired with the old leather jacket.

A wet kiss is pressed to Natasha's cheek as soon as she joins Jason by the bar. His hand instantly finds her waist, pressing her into him tightly. His touch almost repulses her. He's too straightforward with his affection, so obvious in his quest to show her off.

"You look so goddamn sexy," he whispers into her ear. "Been thinking about what we talked about the other day."

Nat hums absentmindedly in answer, raising a finger swiftly to wave over the bartender.

"You know, having another p—"

"Yeah, I know what you're talking about," she interrupts him.

He brought it up about a week ago, and she only entertained the idea because she was bored. Jason is only a temporary occupation for her constant need to destress—there's no way in hell she's gonna adhere to his fantasy of having two girls sucking him off at the same time.

"She's not your real niece, no?" Jason asks suddenly, setting his gaze on your soft curves in that angelic dress framing your figure on the other side of the room.

Natasha's attention snaps from her drink to where his eyes are set. "You know she's not," she mutters as she takes a sip on her martini, suspiciously eyeing her boyfriend.

"I'm up for it," he says, nodding your way.

"Excuse me?" Natasha raises an eyebrow, gracefully setting down her glass on the counter.

"She's our girl, I have a feeling she is. You can ask her, can't you?" Jason smirks as he shamelessly keeps his stare on you. "Pretty little thing like that would be up for anything, wouldn't she?"

It takes exactly two seconds for Natasha to have a sharp fork pressed against Jason's side, just above one of his major arteries and restricting his breathing. A choked gurgle escapes his lips as Natasha's mouth lingers next to his ear.

"I know 72 different ways to break every bone in your body, and I can make 65 of them seem like an accident." Her smooth voice fills his ear. "Keep her name out of your mouth."

She keeps the fork pressed into his skin for a few seconds, just for extra measure, before she lets it go and Jason coughs violently as his hand flies up to his throat. Natasha takes another sip of her drink, glancing over the unsuspecting crowd with a roll of her eyes.

"I suggest you leave. Go clean up in the bathroom, you have a stain on your shirt," Natasha says before taking her drink and walking away.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

You squeeze yourself through the thick bathroom line, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear while trying to avoid bumping into as many people as possible. You gave up on preserving your wings two drinks ago, because quite frankly you have forgotten them by now.

You might also have ignored your fellow elders' warnings of laying off the alcohol, choosing to indulge in whatever drink you could get your hands on for one evening only. It's a risky move, but it's something you can afford. You rarely stir up any trouble, if any at all. What fun is it if you remain predictable all the time?

The music blares through the floor, thumping along with the people jumping up and down against it. You're out of it in the most wonderful way, rid of your constant presence in your own mind, if even for just a short while. The consequences do not exist and neither does your conscience.

When a guy in his late twenties, or thirties, maybe even your age, grasps a hold of your hand and asks if you want to dance, you answer yes without any hesitation. Sweaty bodies spread their heat around, pushing up against you and the mysterious guy as you move against each other.

You barely know what you're doing. You're only following along, letting him control your movements close to his body. If you were more sober you would have seen how it could be more likened to grinding than dancing, but the weight of his hands on your hips feels grounding instead of unnerving.

"You look so fucking pretty," he says into your ear, muffled by the alcohol buzzing in your head and the music blaring over the speakers.

You throw your arms around his neck, looking up at him with what you think is a smile. You're trying, at least. "Thank—" Hiccup. "Thank you. You're pretty too," you say, even though you can barely make out his features in the darkness.

But you think he looks pretty. A hypothesis based on the way his hands feel on your skin. Hot may be a better word for it, but in your state of mind adjectives do not differ especially much from each other. That's why you let him drag you away from the crowd, pushing through drunk people until you find a relatively secluded corner of the floor.

The wall is cold against your heated skin, your back against it while the man's arms cage you in. The feeling of his lips trailing across your neck barely registers. It just feels nice, you think. Your eyes are fluttered close, back arching while you mumble indetectable words you can't even decipher yourself. You're so fucking drunk you won't even remember this moment in the morning.

That's the problem with you drinking tonight—your alcohol consumption has been so limited that you have no conception of whatever is much or not. You have no idea if it takes three or six drinks to get you affected. You have no idea what you are like on tequila or vodka, on Prosecco or red wine. So now, eight drinks later of so many different types you can't even remember which was which, you're out of it enough to barely remember your own name.

His wet lips against yours are a suffocating presence you would much rather be without. It's sloppy and rushed, not at all what you imagined kissing would be. You wince to yourself, pushing him away just an inch to run the back of your hand against your mouth.

And then he's suddenly gone. You could have sworn he stood right in front of you. It takes a good ten seconds before you find him on the floor, clutching his nose with an angry frown in between his eyebrows.

"What the fuck, man?!" he shouts, looking up at the guy who has a funny hat on his head and a heaving chest.

"Stay away from her," the guy seethes, suddenly taking a gentle hold of your arm.

You don't have it in you to protest. Maybe it's dangerous to follow whoever when they tell you to, but your moral compass is non-existent in this state.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" the guy asks you. You blink, staring at his face while trying to piece together his features. No words come out of your mouth. "Damnit," he sighs, shaking his head.

A woman comes up to him with rushed steps, agitated look on her face. "Is she alright, Peter?" She runs her eyes over your disheveled figure.

"She's completely out of it. Must have snuck in quite a lot of more drinks," he answers. "Your dickhead of a boyfriend is taken care of, by the way. Probably won't stir up anymore trouble now."

"I should have checked so he actually left. It was reckless to think he would leave her alone," she says with a stern face, cold gaze watching the exit.

"Wasn't your fault, Nat," Peter assures her. You sway in your stance, stumbling into his hold while he steadies his grip around you.

"She needs to lay down before she passes out. Get her a glass of water for me, will you?" Natasha commands.

Peter nods, giving you a concerned glance before reluctantly heading towards the bar. Your head comes to lean on Natasha's shoulder with a whine, letting her lead you wherever she's going. You're starting to feel dizzy and slightly nauseous, and you do not like it. If you had the energy to speak you would launch a heavy string of complaints.

"Come on now, darling. A few more steps," she says, taking on more of your weight.

Your face is buried into her shoulder. The only thing detectable from your blubbering is the whines, wordlessly pleading to take you away from wherever you are and rid you of the nausea.

Heavy glances are exchanged between Peter and Natasha as he pushes through the crowd, fingers clinging tightly onto the large glass in his hand.

"Here," he breathes out, reaching the glass towards her.

She takes it from his hands, tilting your chin up with her manicured fingers. "There you go, Y/n," she mumbles as you gulp down small sips of the liquid.

The music blares loudly throughout the large room, sweaty bodies packed tightly together. What you found exhilarating and exciting twenty minutes ago is now suffocating. It's the only thing you know as you barely stand on two feet amongst the crowd. If it weren't for Nat, you would be in a heap on the floor.

"Let's go." Natasha nods towards the exit, glancing over her shoulder as Peter trails shortly after.

You're barely awake, burrowing your face into the crook of her neck. Peter can smell the stale alcohol on your breath from where he walks just beside the two of you—fruity drinks and vodka and tequila and wine. It unnerves him to think that you might have ingested enough of the poison to make it dangerous.

The bitter night air is refreshing for anyone who's senses are at least partly alert. It's a blessing really, that tonight you only have the short walk from the party to your homes located just on the other side of the compound grounds.

The dewy grass is partially lit up by strobe lights placed along the lines of the premises, soaking Natasha's heels and Peter's loafers. Your bare arms prickle with the low temperature.

It feels like an awfully long journey for Peter as he walks along Natasha, halfway waking up enough from the haze to take on some of your weight as well. There's a thought or two of swinging you back home in just a few seconds, but there's not much for his web to hold onto out here. The anxiety creates shudders in his limbs and forces him to glance over to your figure every other second.

"She'll be fine, Peter," Natasha says without so much as sparing him a glance. "She's just drunk. It'll be over tomorrow."

But his anxiety doesn't ease, rightfully so, when your palm suddenly pushes against her chest with all the force you can muster in your state. You whine, sprawling your legs until they have no option but to release you.

"Wha—"

On your knees, bent over the small bushes meticulously trimmed by the nice gardeners, you throw your guts out with shudders wracking the whole of your body. Awful.

Natasha could have said 'I told you so', but people make dumb decisions while drunk and she already feels bad for you over what Jason did. "Oh, honey," she whispers to herself instead, taking a step forward to reach you.

But Peter's faster. Of course he is. The young man is kneeling down beside you, hand gently wrapping around your hair to pull it aside while the other rubs against your back.

Any other time, when alcohol isn't poisoning your blood, and you would have felt ashamed. You probably will be tomorrow. You would have reacted to Peter being the one to take care of you, especially after showing such irritation about your state earlier.

The grass is cold and wet against your knees, but it is a welcome relief from the heat plaguing your skin. You are almost certain there are tears making their way out of your eyes and you would positively murder someone for another glass of water.

Instead of gulping down another glass, like you want to, you close your eyes while breathing out deeply. The nausea slowly fades away with each second, the heat being replaced by dewy goosebumps on your skin, all the while clarity pushes itself past the alcohol-induced blur.

A raspy cough. A thick gulp, swallowing too much air at the same time but you force yourself to hold it in. "Did I just kiss someone?" you speak for the first time in an hour.

And Natasha nearly laughs, until she remembers the state you were in. You didn't kiss someone.

"No, Y/n," she says softly, glancing up at Peter with a hardened gaze that tells him to keep his mouth shut. "No, you didn't."

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

It's dark, empty of anyone who usually resides in the living room. The lights flickered on one by one, lighting up the space too much for your liking when you stepped inside. A whine was all it took for Peter to turn them off again.

You've been discarded on the couch, legs stretched out over Nat’s thighs with a cold, wet towel laying on your face. Peter sits fiddling with his fingers just beside your head. It's quiet—thankfully—even though you feel much better than before.

"What time is it?" you ask after what must have been ten minutes of complete silence.

"It's, uh, ten past one," Peter stutters out, like he's surprised by the sound of your voice. In reality he just reacts this way each time you speak, but the circumstances have chipped on his resolve. He can't hide his shivers behind a cool facade anymore.

"Happy Halloween," you croak out, earning a quiet chuckle from him. He checks his phone to see the date on top of the screen. 31st October, indeed.

Honestly, Peter has been some kind of obsessed with you since he was sixteen and visited the compound for the first time. You and Steve were walking on the trail slinging around the grounds, deep into solemn conversation.

Peter should have been listening to the endless list of security policy Happy was lining up for him, but he just couldn't tear his eyes off of you. Not because you were beautiful—you are, but he couldn't really see your face in detail from that far away—but because there was someone else his age in the same situation as him. Then he found out you were just Steve's adopted little sister and was a bit disappointed over your lack of involvement with the Avengers.

For weeks he tried to understand why you were in this century too and if Captain America had kept you secret for a reason. Peter was too nervous to actually talk to you until Tony shut him out of some team meeting and you were the only other one in the living room. He saw you everyday after that.

But now he's living hours away at university and he hates that it feels like you're drifting apart and everything is happening without him knowing. You drinking and being interested in men and men being interested in you. He tries to keep the contact up—texts you everyday and calls you and sends messages to Steve or Bucky if you don't answer. For the things you won't tell him, the things he can't see.

He was so excited for tonight. Chose the Indiana Jones costume because Harrison Ford is cool and sexy in those movies and surely you must think that too? And damn it, when he saw you sparkle and shimmer as you walked into the room with your wings fluttering he almost fell to the ground. It was fun as long as you were sober enough to actually talk to him.

Peter's spent the last hour and a half so goddamn mad at Natasha's boyfriend. And of course he is jealous, it should have been him you were dancing with like that, but that man took advantage of your vulnerable state. You could barely stand up, let alone actually protest or give your consent. Peter doesn't know if that was your first kiss or not, but regardless he's mighty glad he knocked the guy out.

You've gone quiet again, and he almost thinks you have fallen asleep, but you peek out from under the towel when the door you all came in through is thrown open. Heavy boots clank against the floor and a frown adorns Steve Rogers', or Fred from Scooby Doo for the night, face when he and his best friend barges inside. It doesn't take long for them to catch sight of the couch occupied by a wide-eyed Peter, stoic Natasha and still kind of drunk Y/n.

"You're going to be the death of me, young lady," Steve speaks up, letting out a deep sigh once he's close enough to tower over your figure.

He got a run-through of the events by a slightly dramatic Asgardian god and an infinitely more concerned Wanda a few minutes ago. You had gotten black-out drunk and found yourself grinding against some punk in the crowd. That was forgivable, even though Steve would much rather you didn’t at this age. Then that fucking jerk shoved his tongue down your throat despite you barely being able to form words. Yeah, Jackson or Jacob or whatever his name was had a talk with Bucky before the two of them rushed over here.

With his hands on his hips and a shake of his head, Steve stands there for a second before kneeling down. Bucky has his arms crossed a few feet away like he still hasn't really decided wether he's pissed or just feels sorry for you.

"You okay, Y/n?" Steve asks you, a little softer. His palm has come to feel your forehead, even though you doubt fever is a common symptom of being hungover.

Peter is paralyzed beside him. He’s quite sure Steve knows how completely infatuated he is with you. Mostly because Peter accidentally, somehow, sent a voice message meant for Ned to Bucky. He must have shared that by now. What should I wear? Y/n is going to be there. Han Solo? Does she even like brunettes? Is she into blondes? Oh god, I’m helpless.

"No," you mutter in answer to your brother’s question. "This sucks. Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Bucky snorts. "What did you even drink? Vodka?"

"No. I don't know. In the beginning it was just some screw-top rosé Peter's roommate brought," you tell him, scrunching your nose with the memory of the taste of it. "It tasted cheap."

"Oh, because you know things like that now, do you?" Bucky says, raising his eyebrows at you. "Can tell expensive wine from cheap-ass rosé?"

"Buck," Steve says before you even have the chance to answer. Chastises, maybe. "You're not 21 yet. Who gave all that alcohol to you?"

You turn your head away, pressing it into the pillow. Steve turns you back to him with a hand to your shoulder, giving you a pointed look that holds some level of amusement. He acts like God's righteous man, but he was a troublemaker in his youth. Tony would have a field day if he knew all the times Steve came home drunk at sixteen after drinking some musty home-made brandy.

"Peter?" Steve looks up at him when you choose not to answer, using alternative, dirty methods to get answers. Cheater. Your mouth falls open, looking over at both your brother and Peter with an offended glare.

The young man stutters, eyes glancing frantically between the two of you while trying to figure out who scares him the most. "I—uh, don't know. My roommate. Apparently. Natasha's boyf—ex?"

The playful tone dims into stern faces and clenched jaws as the villain of the evening is mentioned out loud. You're caught up deciphering the sudden switch in attitude for longer than you should have before solving the riddle. Natasha told you nothing happened, but unfortunately you have vague pictures of a man, her man, shoving his tongue into your mouth. Oh god.

You sink even further into the couch, if that's possible, shielding yourself from the undoubtably judgemental gazes shared in the room. Natasha's boyfriend cheated with you and you didn't even say anything.

"Don't hide from us, sweetheart," Steve says, brushing hair away from your face. "Hey, it's not your fault. That punk took advantage of you. You weren't in your right mind."

Your dickhead of a brother knows you too well. Can tell with just a glance when you're overthinking and analyzing and blaming yourself for problems that have nothing to do with you from the beginning.

"Calm down, birdie,” Nat says softly, earning your attention even though you want to crawl out of your skin. “That's not a conscious decision, when you're drunk like that. It wasn't your fault in the least. Fourty minutes ago you couldn't even stand straight.”

"I'm really sorry, Nat," you say, eyes flickering down to your legs draped over her lap.

"Stop it. That fucking dickhead thought it would be a good idea to tell me he wanted to have a threesome with you. I told him to stay away from you and leave, but he obviously didn't. Probably just to spite me."

"Threesome?" Steve chokes on his breath and the word comes out as more of a cough. He tightens his hold on your hand until you let out a wince, drawing a whispered ‘sorry’ from his lips.

“Me?” you breathe out, sitting up a little higher.

Peter pushes you down onto the pillow again not even a second later. He doesn’t want you to strain yourself. He’s also fucking pissed now because that man not only assaulted you, he also asked Natasha to have a threesome with you. A 19-year old.

“I’m sorry that he took advantage of you, Y/n. Not going to bring anymore of these assholes I keep dating.” Natasha sighs tiredly, letting her head fall back against the couch.

“That’s not your fault either, you know,” Bucky mutters, earning a pointed look from her that says more than her words can. A ‘thank you’ and ‘I know, dickhead’ simultaneously.

A comfortable silence spanning a dozen of seconds is shared between the five of you. It’s late and everyone is tired and what needed to be said has already been said. You’re fine after all and Natasha will be okay, if she isn’t already.

Peter shifts uncomfortably beside you, brushing against your hair and alerting you even more of his presence. He’s been so sweet to you tonight. He always has been. It guilts you now that you have taken his kindness for granted with time, but Peter cared for you the entire evening despite his teasing words.

You don’t know if it means something. Peter is good to everyone. And he has—MJ and him seem so close. They most likely spend all their time together now when they go the same college. Both geniuses. You don’t really have much to contribute except being the younger sister of America’s favorite hero and embarrassing yourself in a fairy costume on Halloween.

So you push the thought aside. Bury it deep and take in the rest of your surroundings. A quiet snort rests on your lips as you assess the brooding man who has finally seated himself down on an uncomfortable chair from the kitchen.

"Your costume is horrible, Bucky. You're not even dressed up,” you speak up, breaking the silence with a playful smile.

"Yes. I am," he mutters. "I have a mask."

"That does not count. You're wearing your normal clothes." You giggle while he rolls his eyes, earning a chuckle from you brother too. He’s glad to see you cheering up.

“What is considered a real costume then, sweets?” Bucky asks you, raising his eyebrows while pinpointing you with his ingenuine glare.

“I don’t know.” You look around, glancing over your brother’s attempt at a classic Fred, Natasha’s Dorothy, before landing on Indiana Jones. “Peter’s is good,” you mumble, heat spreading to your cheeks from nowhere. Why are you reacting this way?

“Yeah, sure lucky ‘bout that since he planned it all for you,” he mumbles under his breath. “Punk is head over heels.”

The breath escapes the two of you—you and Peter. Because Peter knows Bucky is right and you can’t believe what you just heard.

“What?” both you and Steve say simultaneously. Your brother has turned his entire body towards Peter.

You raise yourself up to a seat, glancing between Bucky and Peter. The latter’s eyes are wide open, lips parted. Guilty.

“Peter?” you ask him, so quietly he almost has to rely on the shape of your lips to hear what you said.

A clearing of his throat. Scratch on the back of his neck.

“Yeah, about that…”

#marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #peter parker x reader #steve rogers fluff #Steve Rogers sister #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #avengers Halloween

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cyborg-franky · 2 years

Note

Heard you were having bad brain times and wanted some silly fun stuff, i gotchu.

How about some stereotypicallly basic white girl things op characters do?

Some ideas(feel free to add your own): loves pumpkin spice everything, says shit like "totes ma goats", lives for drama filled "real tv" shows, wears a pink tracksuit, watches Mean Girls religiously(the movie title is very literal,you don't need to have seen it), listens to Taylor Swift all the time, loves Twilight, eats a bagel for breakfast everyday, planned their outfit based on a white suburban mom's pinterest board

Just some ideas, hopefully this is fun and I hope you feel better soon💜💜💜

With love,

-Zell

May darling <3 I love this idea and I feel better and sorry this took a second.

I hope no one takes offence, I'm white as hell so like.. yes. [also we are all a little white woman aren't we, deep down there's a Beccy and a Karen lurking]

Marco He’s the bitch that can’t wait for pumpkin spice to come around. He also showed up to Wano 20 minutes late with Starbucks which is pretty white girl of him. His Sphinx outfit looks like a mom coming back from yoga.

Ace Spends too long looking at TikTok. Daddy issues.

Thatch Drinks wine and writes smut.

Izou Goes and gets his nails did but spends the entire time gossiping about the bitch down the street and her shit haircut.

Law Is a huge twilight fan and spends hours online fighting about whose better looking that one guy or the other one guy.

Rayleigh All around his home is ‘wine o'clock’ - ‘everything is better with prosecco’ and has those bowls that say ‘bowl ‘plate’ and so on. ‘Live Laugh Love’

Buggy Would murder someone if they messed up his $80 extensions.

Hawkins I can imagine him telling Kaido he can’t go out and kill people because ‘uh don’t you know Mercury is in retrograde? I just can’t babes’

Boa ‘R U OKAY HUN?’ at every vague sounding Facebook post that's like : ( or ‘ugh’

Nami Is the person who posts : ( vague on facebook. Also, she’s a huge Karen, fight me. She would walk up to God himself and ask to see his manager.

Thatch, Killer, Sanji Could spend hours watching episode after episode of ‘Real housewives of Dressrosa’ and ‘teen mom Grandline’

Zoro, Kid Post gym selfies on insta making sure you can see their protein shakes.

Nami, Vivi, Boa, Rebecca Do ‘Zumba’ and won’t shut the fuck up about it and makes it their entire personality for the three months they attend.

Perona ‘This car is powered by fairy dust!’ ‘princess onboard!’ ‘my other ride is a broom’ bumper stickers.

Whitebeard ‘My children are my world’ and the stickers that are stick figure families along the back of his van. Fighting a salesperson who gets paid minimum wage over 10 cents.

Hawkins, Drake, Izou Won’t leave the house before checking their horoscopes.

Mihawk INSANELY LONG COMPLICATED COFFEE ORDER and will make you make it again if that milk is full fat.

Shanks Woo girl

Sabo Sticks gum in someone's hair if they even mildly piss him off. Spends $400 on boots and never wears them. Oh, watches you make his drink like a hawk and before you make his second one 'Um excuse me, I ordered TWO drinks' while your still making it.

Queen, Black Maria At a restaurant ordering dessert ‘Oh I shouldn’t’ ‘Oh no babe, you deserve it’ ‘okay, I’ll be a devil and have a piece of that cheesecake’ BOTH GIGGLE

Doffy, Kaido Pink tracksuit bottoms and small dogs in their handbags. Shades and purses that cost more than your house. Roger Takes one sip of a beer and acts drunk ‘I’m sooooo wasted guys omg’

Franky, Sanji, Roger, Thatch Crying over movies like ‘Dirty Dancing’ and wishing they could be the girl and the lead guy is so hot omg.

Corazon "I'll just have ONE glass of wine" and the glass is the side of his head. or runs a bubble bath and drinks three bottles but it's not a problem it's self care.

Tag yourselves, I'm Marco with a dash of Thatch.

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trailerparkbard · 1 year

Text

Dancin' in the Dark [Part One] (A Gay Bar/Eddie Bartender AU)

shoutout to Bruce Springsteen a master of queer feelings ✌️

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley (Steve Harrington/OMC, Robing Buckley/OFC -- it's a gay bar au in the 80s friends, I'm sorry.)

Fandom: Stranger Things

Rating: T for right now but u know how it goes.

Content Notes: ehhh light feminization (nicknames)

The basement bar is loud and warm and crowded with bodies. Smoke from dozens of cigarettes fills the room, makes it feel shrouded like a dream. It is a dream in some ways. That this place exists at all is unbelievable. That it exists in the periphery of Hawkins is a fucking miracle.

The metal door slams shut behind them and they startle, shake out of the trance of ‘holy shit it’s real’ and move forward to become part of the tableau not just spectators. It feels like his first swim meet. Stepping up to the water with everyone’s eyes on him. Their expectations and his own, heavy around his neck as he slides in, proves he deserves to be here.

“Drinks first?” Robin asks and he ignores the slight shake in her voice and nods, eyes wide to match her own.

They move to the bar as one. Skin and hair, denim and flannel and leather and cotton and glass graze them, test them as they slowly make their way to wooden bar. Steve swears he felt a hand on his ass but doesn’t look back, doesn’t check, just blushes and keeps moving. He’s not used to this role. New meat, the pursued, young, unmoored and electrified.

They both cling to the sticky surface of the bar like it’s a sanctuary. Elbows and forearms anchoring them against the swell of bodies and desire. Steve looks sideways at Robin, pushing his hair back. Playing it off. Playing it cool. She sends him a grin in return, sees him. Before he can huff and tell her to shut up a pale hand covered in chunky jewelry knocks the wooden space between them. They both jump and turn their attention to the bartender. He smiles at their surprise, at seeing the same expression on two separate faces, all thick lips, sharp teeth and laugh lines.

He flips a stained bar towel over his shoulder and leans in to say “Welcome my little gay club virgins.” He lowers his lashes and takes his time strolling up Steve’s visible body from chest to hair like it’s nothing. ”What can I do you for?” and it is truly the worst line that has ever been uttered so seriously to Steve Harrington. But it hits its mark because he feels himself turning red, losing his focus. He forgets to scoff and roll his eyes. Just stands there with his mouth parted for a beat too long.

Robin laughs in his face, breaks the moment. “Dude. Does that ever work?” The bartender cackles and winks at her, at Steve. “Nah. But you can’t blame a guy for trying.” His smile is radiant. Joyful. Steve wants to feel that — to flirt without concern at anyone who catches his eye and not worry about anything — no fists or threats or his own corniness.

The guy pulls back, his his curly hair moving around him like it’s alive, acting on his manic energy. He slaps his palms on the bar rhythmically and raises his eyebrows, waiting.

“Two Miller Lights?” Steve orders — asks, like an idiot. He hums, leans forward again, invades Steve’s personal space. “I don’t know man. You sure you’re legal?” His eyes are deep brown and sparkling and Steve feels himself getting lost in the gaze. Opens his mouth to say something witty and sharp.

“Eddie!” Snaps someone else behind the bar and Eddie jerks away like he’s been smacked. “Stop flirting and get to work. We have a line, kid.” Eddie pouts and it’s theatrical. Steve wants to bite his lower lip, is shocked by that desire. “You’re so mean, Wayne,” he whines but obediently pulls out two bottles and pops the tops off. He leans back over, one beer in each hand and looks from one to the other, assessing. He’s serious now, voice lower. Something shifted. “If anyone gives you trouble come find me.” His eyes are on Steve. He waits for a nod before he releases the glass and moves back. Winks and twirls to the next customer. Leaving Steve and Robin alone to look at each other and laugh, yelling “What the hell?” with their eyebrows.

They turn their back to the bar and, protective beers in hand, scan the crowd. It's 11:30 on a Friday night and Steve and Robin breathe into the world of possibility around them.

By beer number three they're dancing together, wild and free. Loose-limbed and laughing in a way they haven't in a while -- and never around others. All the anxiety from earlier vanishing under a varnish of sweat.

Steve feels giddy when strong hands circle his waist, pull him close. He leans back into the hard chest of the man who's made his move, silently screaming "oh my god, oh my god" at Robin like he is an actual virgin. Robin is grinning and trying to tell Steve without words how hot he is, how he should go for it. He shores himself up and spins around, hands already reaching up to loop around a stranger's neck before he even knows what he looks like.

It's a thrill when this man tugs him close, lets Steve feel his dick's attention through his jeans. He's got a mustache. It's not Steve's favorite look but he's into it tonight. He's into it now. The guy grips his ass and Steve feels like he's on fire. They make out right there on the dance floor surrounded by other couples doing the exact same thing. It's messy, wet, a little too much and just enough. Steve loves it.

He pulls away when the song changes, realizes he Robin isn't next to him anymore. He looks around and finds her swaying in time with a girl. Robin's fingers are tugging a little wayward curl from her perm as she leans close. Steve allows himself a moment of internal applause for her moves, the student learning from the master. He relaxes into feeling safe and sways his way back to the bar for another round.

It takes Eddie a moment to notice him in the row of bodies vying for his attention and access to liquor. He slides over, ignoring the folks waiting, gives Steve a warm smile with a little wickedness tucked into the corner.

"Can I get--" Eddie puts up one finger and presses it against the lips of the guy who tried to jump into the silence to order. "Shhh, wait your turn. Princess comes first." He exaggerates his attention, drapes himself over the bar, curls a hand under his chin and blinks (big, beautiful) eyes at Steve. "Having fun, princess?" he asks like there's not a crowd around them trying to get a drink. Steve frowns at the nickname but it doesn't last. He feels too good, this guy is ridiculous and he likes it. "'M not a princess but yeah, Eddie, I'm having fun." Eddie's face lights up like this is the best news he's received all evening. He clutches his chest. "Aww! princess! You learned my name!"

"It's Steve," says Steve with a huff. Eddie laughs, pop's the top to his next bottle and passes it over.

"Oh sweetheart, I know what your name is," Eddie purrs. Steve feels heat prickle and rush all over his body -- can't form a response before Eddie is already gone, moved on to the next person trying to find get some social lubrication.

Steve dances the rest of the night away. Kisses three more men and is completely hard by the time the lights flick on. It's the best night he's ever had.

He finds Robin curled in a booth with the same girl as before. They're kissing and Robin has her hand on her neck and she has her hand on the side of Robin's boob. Steve slides into the seat across form them. "Hello ladies," he sings. He shakes his head when they don't even pause. He knocks the table and Robin jumps, presses her lips together and looks wildly around until she narrows her eyes at Steve. He grins, unbridled joy. "Hey Robs! Good to see you!" She rolls her eyes. Steve gestures around the bar, the lights the change in mood, everyone moving towards leaving. "Figured I should check on you crazy kids. Don't want you to get locked in when they close for the night." Robin wrinkles her nose, laughs sarcastically him and turns back to her date, eyes soft. She tilts her head at him. "Sorry about this guy, but um yeah. This was fun. Like really fun and uh." The girl laughs, slips some space between them. "Yeah, it was," her voice is quiet and her cheeks are red. She looks up at Robin, hopeful when she says "maybe we could do it again sometime."

The girls make their plans. It's a simple as a "Next week?" "Next week." and Steve saying, loud, annoying "of course I'll drive you next week, Robin, you don't even have to ask."

Steve can't wait.

---

pieces of part 2

#steddie #steddie fic #fan fic #steve harrington/eddie munson #gay bar au #bartender au #I cannot wait for eddie to climb over that bar and fuck steve (up) (with love)

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princessasmosprincess · 4 months

Note

Pls tell me about Erebus and Birth pretty please pleaaaasseee

Thank you for the ask 💖

I just talked about Birth here in detail but since you were so kind to ask, the gist is that it's going to be a ficlet about how Lucifer held each of his brothers and Lilith after their creation.

I'm excited to talk about Erebus, it's very self indulgent so get ready ^^

Erebus is going to be a ficlet exploring the relationship of my Twisted Wonderland NRC teacher OC, Lettie Anastasis, who you can read about in more detail here, and Divus Crewel. They met in Pink and Red and since then they've been at each other's throats. One day, Ortho catches the end of one of their messier arguments, but according to his calculations their affection meters for each other are really around 80%. Ortho decides to play Cupid and "accidentally" lock them in a tiny storage closet after school for a little forced proximity, the kind of stuff that pops up in Idia's favorite animes. Unfortunately, Lettie is terrified of the dark and neither she nor Crewel have their cellphones with them and they're unable to use magic due to a magical barrier. Idia really needs to talk to his brother about interfering in other people's affairs.

This snippet is sooo long:

Frustrated, Crewel ran a hand through his hair. The two of them would likely be stuck in here until morning, when Trein or Crowley or some other unsuspecting professor found them 13 hours from now at the earliest. How embarrassing.

Not to mention the full day of teaching they'd have after that, they couldn't simply take the day off.

There was no room in this tiny closet to stretch out and rest. Maybe one of them could sit for a little while as the other loomed over, but that was the best to be expected. It was going to be a long night. He knew some formulas for wakening potions, and he should have enough of the ingredients in storage, he hadn't had a chance to take inventory for the day. It wasn't as good as actual sleep, but it would do in a pinch. He might even offer her one as well, as long as she didn't annoy him all night.

A sniffle caught his attention. Lettie was still holding onto him.

That gave him pause. “Violet are you-”

“Sh-shut up,” but she clutched at him tighter, trying to silence her crying as her body shook with sobs.

She seemed upset, more than what one would expect from a predicament such as this. “You’re afraid, aren't you?”

She didn't answer him for several seconds. He couldn't tell if she was refusing or unable.

Finally she spoke, “In th-the dark I can’t u-u-use my Unique Ma-magic to communicate. I need to s-see.”

“You’re speaking to me right now. You don’t need to use your Unique Magic, you still have your voice.”

She let go of him, wrapping her arms around herself, “I know it’s silly. I d-don’t expect you to u-under-understand. I just feel so… v-vulnerable without it.”

WIP Ask Game

#wip game #ask game #dash game #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #divus crewel

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bluebeatleisslay · 9 months

Text

Blue Beatle x y/n

Btw- y/n will be half Mexican and half European in this not that it matters but idk lol anyways but I just wanted to put European in there bc I’m 80% and I like to think I feel close to it 😭❤️ anyways here is a new story

also I wanted to say that im getting inspired by the stuff bc it’s SLAYINGGG FRRR

y/n pov

Huh…. I slowly open my eyes ugh I say as I realize it’s morning.. Y/N WAKE UP I hear my mom yell I groan as I roll out of bed and make my way to my closet, today is a big day my papa is coming back to see us he was out of the country for work I do wish sometimes he wouldn’t go out so far but he need to pay for the home it’s getting stressful for my mama and papa I can tell papa is rlly never home but- “Y/N COME ON WE NEED TO GO” I’m cut off by my mom “OK JUST GETTING READY “ I yell back I take a deep breath and sign.. ok here we go.. I look in my closet trying to find something acceptable, look good but comfortable I end of finding a cue blue dress that hugs my body perfectly

-(if y wanna see it it will be down at the end and if it’s not there that means I can’t find a way to put the pic there😭)-

it’s baby blue with little bots of white, I look at my self in the mirror and think perfect, I run down stairs to find my mom waiting for me with a face of only what ppl can say… excitement and disappointment but soon turns into a one of love and happiness “ oh my god y/n u look Beautiful..” I brush “ty mama” as I say that I smile softly “we will be going out to eat with papa soon after we meet him at the airport, but if u wanna fun and get a snack rn u can” moms says. I start to think and I will eat with them as a famliy “nah mom it’s all good” I say she smiles and grins and says ok let’s go we don’t want to keep him waiting” I grin and laugh and say “ok mama let’s go” we get into the car and start to drive to the airport mom starts to talk

“Yk that boy from down the street? What’s his name hmmm um Jaime? Is it?” She’s says “yes mama what abt him?” I say

“well he went to college”mama say’s excited ! It’s crazy how big he has gotten I remember when he was just a little boy he’s has grown into his looks” I brush “mommmm “i say brushing “what its true u should two should start talking he’s handsome and nice she says” “what-“ I say “ok okkk ok I will stop now” mom says grinning we drive into the airport parking lot we park and get out of the car we start walking to the doors I’m so excited to see my papa it’s been so long 1 year feels so long to be without a parent his work has been hard he works a lot just to pass by and we love him and appreciate him for it.. I hear my mom gasps and I see my papa we both run to his and give him a big hug! Hi papa I say” hello my pretty daughter “ he says oh that’s a Beautiful dress” he says “ty papa I smile i turn around and I see- it’s Jamie going down the escalator wait what- my mom sees him to and says that “he is getting back from college and that we should go over and say hi” I brush “okkk” I say and we walk over to them “ hello Rocio it’s so nice to see u guys again” mom smiles softly “oh my goodness mary sits so good to see u again says Rocio” they hugs and start to talk abt Jamie and my dad starts talking to Jamie’s dad, I look at Jamie and he looked back and I rlly get to look at him… his hair is longer, he’s teller ofc.. and prettier to.. I didn’t realize I was staring until my mom says “y/n…?” I can hear her grin I mentally groan “yes mom?” I say mom says “I think maybe we should have a dinner with Rocios famliy don’t u think? “ “yeah sure “ I say i look at jamie and he says “ u look good” I brush and say “ty jamie”

YALL I GTG it’s 12:29 😍☝🏻 it’s tiring writing bc I’m list and it’s hard idk how y’all do it but ty and I will undate soon slayyy

#blue beetle #slaying #y/n #x reader #fanfic #wish it was real

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nctsplug02 · 2 years

Note

a request for how would mr jeong react seeing yn cry for some reason ?? dont have anything specific in mind so yea u can play along with the plot 😅

[2:21pm]

genre: angst and suggestive

warnings; mentions of pregnancy, sexual touching, sexual talking

jaehyun rushes into the house, quickly dropping his brief case and untightening his tie. “m—mr jeong!” jen gasps, rushing over to him with hannie in her arms.

jaehyun had rushed home when getting an emergency call from jen saying that you were crying nonstop and begging for jaehyun to come home. he stopped his meeting and came the second he heard your cries over jen’s side.

“mrs jeong is in the bathroom, she won’t stop crying— she asked for you!” jaehyun thanks jen before running upstairs and bursting into the bathroom.

“jae,” you cry, uncovering your face and standing up from the bathtub edge. “baby,” he sighs, pulling you up and tugging you into his arms. “what’s wrong, my love?” he asks while patting your back and brushing your hair.

“i— me— baby—?” you stammer before bursting back into tears. “what? baby, take a deep breath for me.” you push yourself away from jaehyun, sitting yourself back down onto the edge.

you take several deep breaths, shakingly inhaling then exhaling. “now, tell me. what’s wrong, my love? tell me, baby?” he crouches down and cups your face. swollen and red with black tear streaks streaming down your face.

silence.

jaehyun sits in silence with you, waiting for you to calm down. holding your hand and rubbing your back, calming you down.

“please..” your voice breaks, “please don’t get mad at me?” your voice deeper than usual, after crying for hours.

“no, my love?” he coos, cupping your face. “why would i ever get mad at you?” he wipes your tears.

you run your hands over your face, shakingly sighing into your palms. “i..” you stand up making jaehyuns hands fall from your lap. his eyes follow you as you walk over to the counter.

you slip something into your hand, turning around and showing him the stick. the negative pregnancy test.

“it’s.. negative, my love?” he takes the test and stares down at the single pink line.

“the doctor said that.. she said that my eggs are acting stubborn; not wanting to take your sperm. hannie could be our only baby, jae.” you feel yourself begin to break down again.

with water eyes, jaehyun walks towards you, grabbing you and pulling you into his chest. “my love,” he whispers, “i’m so sorry.” you shake your head, beginning to cry in his chest.

“there’s a 80% chance that i can’t get pregnant anymore.” you squeeze his shirt into your fist.

he pulls away, keeping you in front of him. “then we keep trying.” he says with a hint of determination. “but—?” he shakes his head. “no buts,” his voice strickens.

“we still have a 20% chance of you being able to get pregnant so we’re gonna keep trying until i and the whole world sees you carrying my baby.” he growls under his breath, his nails digging into your hips.

without thinking, you whisper quietly; “yes.” a slow smirk begins to form on jaehyuns face when hearing your confirmation.

“i have the rest of the day off, my love. lets see,” he sighs, dipping his head back a bit. “we could go out and spend our day doing whatever you want and then we could come home and start trying again, or.” he stares down at your pretty eyes. “we stay home, fuck all day until you’re full and dripping my cum.”

his eyes crease at your widen eyes. “your choice, my love.” he grins, tilting his head down to the side. “lets.. go with the second choice.” jaehyun giggles and dips down, giving your lips a kiss.

“good choice,” he says patting your ass. “good choice.” he lifts you up and sits you on the counter.

#ash talks #nct smut #nctsplug02 #nct imagines #nct scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #kpop smut #nct 127 #kpop scenarios #jung jaehyun imagines #nct jaehyun #jeong jaehyun fluff #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #jaehyun smut #jaehyun #nct dad au #jen the babysitter

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80s4life · 2 years

Text

Damaged Goods’

Word Count: 1,824

Status: Requested!!!

Ask: could you maybe write smth about kreese getting into an argument with the reader (they're in an established relationship already), saying something rlly mean to her, hurting her feelings, causing her to storm out of the dojo to go home and drink. and when he comes back and sees her drunk and crying, he comforts her and explains that he didn't mean it? if u don't wanna tho, i understand! :)

@: An adorable anon that deserves a hug!

Fandom: Karate Kid Series (original 80s trilogy)

Relationship: John Kreese x Female!Reader

Summary: He can’t explain his explosive outbursts. He can’t explain why they always target you even if you weren’t the source. All he knows is that he’s messed up again, and this time might be the end.

Warnings: strong language, mentions of abuse, past mistakes, could be considered grooming? (Ew), Kreese (Kreese is his own warning tbh)

Masterlist Karate Kid Masterlist

{gif is not mine, credits go to @tsarinasource}

Maybe it was the stress. Maybe it was the pressure. It could’ve been the students, his mood, the dojo, hell maybe even just the week. But, with the rageful, scolding gaze and harsh tone, he continuously assaults you with threats and jabs.

“You’re so damn weak! Look at you!” he screams, throwing a punch at you in which you weren’t fast enough to block, not with all the tears in your eyes.

Just barely side-stepping, his fist hits your ribs, staggering you back as you try to defend the children shrinking behind you. “Kreese.”

“Y’know, it’s almost fucking pitiful with all the damn teaching you’ve had for years. I thought you’d at least be half a bit better than them,” he tsks, “But, you’ve always been like this, haven't you Y/N?”

Wide-eyed, you go to block a kick led by many more blows trying to knock you down. “Kreese!” you warn again, but it doesn’t break the haze.

Finding your footing a little bit off, he uses it to his advantage, taking the opportunity to kick it in a painful direction. Yelping, you feel his foot collide with the outside of your kneecap, kicking it the opposite direction - a direction it is not designed to bend - causing you to fall.

“You’re still the sad, poor little girl you were when I’d found you, huh?” he asks, grabbing a fistful of hair to bring you up on your knees.

Gasping, your expression changes from a determined sympathy to a confused hurt, finally letting a single tear slip down your cheek as you stare up at him. Then does his awareness finally set in, letting go of you to look at the students around him.

He looks down at you, head finally bowed and body slumped into yourself in defeat. He has to play the part. “And that, students, is how you effectively defeat an enemy. You try to mess with their emotions, get them to think they have the upper hand, but you always have to remain in control. It’s brutal, it’s deceiving, but it’s survival. Survival. Is. Living. Understand?”

“Survival...” you huff, meek body struggling to regain composure. You don’t even look at him, leaving your stuff as it is and walking out of the glass doors without another word.

It takes everything in Kreese to not drop everything and run after you, but he’s stuck in a room full of minors with the legal obligation to keep them supervised. Especially in this type of sport. He tries not to strain too hard to keep watch on your disappearing form, snapping his head around once he’s realized his positioning here.

The rest of the afternoon passes off with a newfound anger, pushing the students to their brink and almost making them follow suit in the path you’d taken hours prior. He was relentless with his instructions, his punishments for improper composure, completion of tasks, and adolescent attentiveness sending them to the mat to workout more times than any of them could count.

Finally, when Kreese had seen it appropriate, he let the children go with the promise of the same expectations the following day. Grabbing at the towels and trash, his thoughts were unable to be avoided now with nothing to do. He was guilty and he knew it. He fucked up - again. He took it out on you - again. And, he punished you for his own doings - again.

It didn’t help when he’d heard the children on their way out, muttering ‘There’s no way in hell that he’s gonna recover from that’, ‘Y/N’s hurting herself for being with him’, and ‘He’s a monster to everyone it seems.’ Maybe he was, and that hurt him even more to think about.

Nipping at little things, Kreese stayed longer than he knew was normal, brushing his fingers across awards, organizing the papers on his desk, and even collecting your things and placing them at the door for when he was expected to leave. Then, his phone rings, “Hello?”

“Hello?” your voice rings out on the other end, slurred and nasally.

“Y/N? What’s going on?”

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong, you’re just a dick that picked the wrong day.” He can hear an audible gulp, hiss and sniffle, cringing at the insinuations that follow them.

“I’m on my way home.”

“What home? What home is this now, Kreese?”

“I’ll talk to you later, okay? Just calm down, please?”

Shrieking buzzing noises answer him, a grumble erupting from his throat as a response.

...

Dragging his feet up to the door, he goes to unlock the front door just to find it unlocked and hardly closed. Stepping in silently, the keys jangling catches his companion’s attention, haphazardly getting to her feet on the floor.

“I’m home,” he states sarcastically.

You don’t say anything, rather, you stare at him. You don’ know what to say, and even if you had the voice to speak your mind, what could you say? He already knows.

His eyes meet yours for a few moments, then they trace down to the floor, finding empty beer cans, a spilling bottle of tequila, and vodka in your hands. “What are you doing, Y/N/N?” he frowns, hand coming up to smooths out the creases forming on his forehead.

“The only thing I know best it seems,” you slur, lopsidedly standing as more tears pour down with the weight on the sentence. His words hurt you, bringing up the past in such a way, and that’s the only thing that’s been eating at you for hours. While he was able to somehow ignore it at the dojo, you were burdened with it at home.

“You know that’ not true,” he sighs.

“Well, it’s like you said, I’m still the same little girl, right?” you giggle painfully, “I’m still the same girl with daddy issues, nowhere to call home, and no ways to defend myself. You’re the perfect guardian angel that just swooped me off my feet!” you go to make a swinging motion, ultimately making your drunken body swing a little too hard. Crashing to the floor, Kreese sidles up next to your quickly, a strong hand on your upper arm.

“Y/N...” he sighs, pulling your body to rest on his lap, a hand coming up to brush at your hair as he places your head on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean it, Baby. I was angry, and I-” his voice breaks as the reality sets in.

“Took it out on me,” you finish for him in a pissed sarcasm.

He squeezes you tighter, “Yeah.”

“And, let me guess, you’re sorry?”

He sighs, “Yes.”

“But, do you really mean it, Johnny?” you pull out of his hold begrudgingly. You love nothing more than being in his arms, but now’s not the time. You can’t keep going through this.

“What kind of question is that?”

“You repeat yourself every time! You say you’re sorry and then you do the same shit over and over and over again!” you get back up, somewhat sober as the truth shines through, distancing yourself from the man on the floor. “You belittle me, you punish me, and, best one yet, you hit me, Johnny! Whether it be martial arts or not, you use it to your advantage like the holy grail!”

“I don’t know why I act like this, Y/N! What do you want me to say? I’ve told you I wasn’t somethin’ to be fixed, yet you followed me anyway! I’ve told you, countless times, to stay. The fuck. Away. And, what do you do? You. Come. Back.”

“So you don’t mean it then?”

“What?!”

“Well if I’m such a burden to you, and all of this is apparently my fault, then you don’t mean it. It’s all my doing and I’m the one who causes all this pain and time and energy to waste.”

Without another word, you walk down the slender hall, trudging up to your bedroom to slam the door shut. With a regretful ‘Shit’, Kreese, throws a beer glass at the wall, hands flying up to wrap around his head. He stays behind for hours, cleaning up your mess, but not with any blame. He knows he’s done this. Maybe just a little bit, deep down, he truly knows he’s put you through hell.

Once the clock strikes around 3, he finally allows himself to open the bedroom door. Your tiny body is the first thing his eyes land on, and he watches as his mind is put at ease. He loves you. Damn, if anything else was a lie, this is his only truth. He undoubtedly, uncontrollably, and unconditionally loves you. He would simply waste away if you were to leave him.

You had every right to be mad, and he scolded himself for making you feel so damn worthless. You were the only bright ray of sunshine that’s shined through his dark, gloomy life.

Slowly, he walks around to the other side of the bed, pulling at the covers to allow himself to lay beside you. With your back to him, he can tell you still weren’t asleep yet. Brushing at the stray hairs that cascaded behind you, he allows himself the freedom to press up behind you, pulling your back to his chest and wrapping his arm underneath your head, the other laying over your waste to secure you.

“I’m so sorry. I really am, Y/N. I don’t know how we’ll pull through this, but I want us to be together,” he whispers in your ear.

“I’m not leaving, Johnny,” you whisper back, still unable to face him. “I don’ want to just yet.”

His muscle ease at the notion, but he can still feel the stiffness and confusion swirling within you. “Tell me what you want from me, I’ll do it. I’ll try to be better. All I can do is try.”

Turning in his arms, you look up at him. “You already know what you have to work on.”

He nods, blue eyes softly gazing at yours, “I know.”

“Good,” you mumble, playing with the sleeve of his T-shirt. “Happy anniversary by the way.”

Instantly, his whole body stiffens again, and you turn your back to him once more.

“It's alright, John. Just go to sleep.”

He was a broken, angry man. You were a forgiving, angelic woman. You both knew that you’ survive this little rift in your relationship, and it seems hard to believe right now. But, all you need is time and love, and all the kinks will work themselves out. Kreese had his issues, and you had yours. All you have to do is forgive, forget, and learn to adapt. That’s true survival.

#john kreese x reader #john kreese imagine #john kreese #kreese x reader #kreese imagine #karate kid imagine #karate kid x reader #karate kid #martin kove x reader #martin kove imagine #martin kove

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shadow--writer · 3 years

Note

Kind of hurt/comfort? Main 6 + artist MC who's frustrated about not being able to get something quite right. The classic, it's attempt number 17 and yet that hand still doesn't look like it should, so they end up glowering and cursing at the paper/canvas, doubting their abilities. (yes, yes this is a self-callout)

ugh this is a callout post to ME. And I am UPSET ABOUT IT.

smfh

Main six x MC not quite right

~~~~

Julian

Ah this lad. This lad has no idea what tf you’re doing. I’m sorry but when it comes to the art process he’s left in the dark

But he gets upsetti when you get upset at your art because it’s BEAUTIFUL TO HIM DON’T BE ANGY :((

Drags you away with a kiss to the tip of your nose (“you need cuddles and to talk this out on the couch, scat. Doctor’s orders”)

If you whine he’ll kiss you softly to get you to hush a little. You have been working on that piece for HOURS now and you need a break >:C

Will cuddle you, play with your hair, and listen to you rant because LAWD KNOWS YOU NEED IT

Not great on the art side of things, but he feels the struggle of not getting something right. Gives pretty decent advice ngl

When you get back to work he’ll pop in from time to time with something to drink or snack on and a kiss

Will sit and tell stories as you work to keep you laughing and not caring about if it’s wrong. Even if it doesn’t turn out the best he’ll love it

Asra

Would laugh at you affectionately. Ruffles your hair with a kiss, tugging whatever you’re drawing with out of your hand (getting whatever’s on it on him)

Spins you around slowly, leading you into a dance. It quickly gets heated with your anger and him helping you get it out

Would sing to you as they waltz you out of the kitchen to get some snacks

Faust would wiggle along with the two of you :D

Amazing listener with the BEST advice. Will listen to you stew about your latest piece over a nice cup of tea

Comes with you to see what’s wrong, hugging you from behind as you erase your latest attempt

He (if you ask) helps you fix it. Usually by holding your hand and guiding it. Soft kisses to the back of your ear bc u gave them access to the area >:3

If needed he’ll angry nap with you, helping you get back to it later. Sometimes it’s good to step away, or get someone else’s help (IF YOU ASK)

Nadia

GOOD LAWD SHE FEELS THAT STRUGGLE SO MUCH

Would massage your shoulders as you rant about why the other hand is bugging you so freaking much

Always there for you when you need it for this STRUGGLE BUS OF A PROJECT

Gives great advice on the subject. Always mentions to take a break and come back to it later with fresh eyes (taking a bath, sleeping, or getting something to eat are great tips)

Will wrap her arms around your waist and watch you get back to work on it. If you like, she’ll rock the two of you back and forth with a low hum

Doubt your abilities and she gets a little annoyed. You are GREAT but sometimes stuff doesn’t turn out amazing and that is OKAY

If you finish it and it still doesn’t look right she’ll drag you away for angry snuggles. It’s okay it didn’t go well, you can try again later

For now she’s gonna reward you for giving it your best shot and seeing it through :)

Muriel

I HAVE SOME SOFT HEADCANONS FOR THIS MANS BECAUSE I LOVE HIM SO STRAP IN

He would gently take your hands in his, not caring if you have paint, ink or charcoal on them

Just take you away from whatever you’re doing for some time to calm down and think things over

He makes you a nice cup of tea :], something to eat, and will just sit and listen to you complain and talk about what you’re working on

He doesn’t try to offer up stuff like “oh I’m sure it’s fine” because that’s not what you want to hear. So he suggests you take a short break for a little while

He’ll let you paint on his back, just random doodles :)

He’ll wear the doodles with pride as well. Generally he wants you away from what you’re doing to give you a bit of a break.

And don’t doubt your abilities. Even if this doesn’t turn out how you want, he’ll still think it’s beautiful

Portia

DRAGS UR ASS AWAY FROM WHAT YOU’RE DOING

You need a break. If you are cursing at the canvas her instincts kick in and she’s dragging you away

Will set up something in the garden for you to attack your frustrations on. Generally it’s a canvas and paint for you to splatter on it. It gets MESSY

She gets MESSY

And it’s CUTE

Will listen to you yell and scream about how you can’t get the other eye while you WRECK a canvas with colour and get it all over the two of you

It always ends with the two of you covered in paint and her chasing you around the garden until you’re laughing so hard you can’t breathe

And with your anger and frustration out, she’ll come join you as you get back to your piece. She’s your cheerleader!

Always there with a canvas to wreck and paint to splatter everywhere :D

Lucio

He would make something MUCH WORSE to make you feel better. A shitty drawing of him flexing? Y’all have like 80 of those now

Blocks what you’re working on with his body when he sees you frustrated (“Don’t you want to see something else artistic~?”)

Will take you to go steal treats from the kitchen as a distraction to calm you down

You’ll snack on cookies and he’ll listen to you rant :]. Ur very cute when ur frustrated. He doesn’t offer advice because he uh can’t but he’ll listen and admire you

Will doodle funny things on your arms so when you get back to drawing you have something to look at and giggle about

Loves doodling on u btw. Loves being doodled on as well

Really good at distracting you so you can get away from what you’re doing so when you come back you can see what you can do to fix it

If it still ends up poorly and you hate it....if you want a good scream he has some nice pillows to scream into

And he’ll be there for you when you try again

#the arcana #the arcana game #muriel #muriel of the kokhuri #julian devorak #asra alnazar #nadia satrinava #lucio morgasson #portia devorak #arcana headcanons #main six x mc #artist mc #my writing #headcanons #fluff

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marauder-exe · 4 years

Text

Prompt List #2

Welcome to my biggest prompt list ever

if you wanna request something from this list, just use the character and ‘ prompt 34 from prompt list #2′ thank u!

Theres like 200 so be wary

Angst

“I love you ! Is that what you wanted to hear ?”

“I love him/her, and I know that I shouldn’t.”

“Can you just shut your mouth ?”

“wHY DO YOU KEEP LYING TO ME ?”

“We both know that I should walk away, but I can’t.”

“Wait, he/she has a girlfriend/boyfriend ?"

“I lo—-” “No, please… Don’t say that. You love her/him, not me.”

"Could you just take this pain away ? It hurts, so much… Help me.”

“You’re safe here, I got you.”

“Don’t ask her out again, please… You’re killing me, every single time you ask that.”

“Look, he/she wants you, just make him/her happy.”

“If you go, I’ll know that you never loved me.”

“We never were just friends, and you know it.” “I know it, but you deserve someone better than me.”

“SHE WAS CRYING BECAUSE OF YOU!!!”

“You love me like I’m the person who actually deserves your love.” “But you are the only one who deserves it.”

“I know for a fact that you’re not “fine”.”

“You’re looking at me like.. you’re disgusted. What did I do? Just tell me what I did, please!”

“What happened between us?”

“Nothing has changed!” “Yes it has, and you know it.”

“Love isn’t supposed to hurt this badly.”

“You said you needed space. You were 5,000 miles away for a year, and you’re still unsure. I’m starting to think that an entire universe apart wouldn’t be enough space for you.”

“I remember when he/she/they used to look at me that way”

“I want you to list every lie you ever told me. Then I’ll forgive you.”

“I don’t hate you. I hate that after all of this, you’re still trying to lie to me”

“I can’t keep this secret for you anymore.”

“I’m sorry I’m not what you signed up for.”

“Why she/her/them? It could have been anybody, and you chose to betray me with her/him/them.”

“This will be the last time you lie to me.”

“You never loved me, did you?”

“You made me miserable and I still loved you.”

“Everytime something goes well, I momentarily forget how much I despise you.”

“We’re never going to have a happy ending, just remember that.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not happy to see me like this.”

“Your mind must be a horrible place.”

“Hand me the gun and I’ll kill him myself.”

“And I thought you loved me."

" And I thought I loved you."

" Aren't you even going to cry?"

“I didn’t expect you to wait forever. I just hoped…”

“Did you always know that you were going to leave?”

“If you cry, I’ll stay, and if I stay that will just give you another reason to hate me.”

“I’m addicted and at this point I don’t think anything could make me stop.”

”If you wanna know, then ask.”

“You never asked because you knew I wouldn’t tell you what you wanted to hear.”

“We grew apart, and at this point I’m glad.”

“Find somebody else to kiss your ass.”

“When are you going to stop clawing for something that’s never going to happen?”

“What you’re doing is going to kill you one day.”

“It was easier to believe that the you I knew was dead than deal with the fact that I still have to see you every day.”

“What you’re doing is going to kill you one day.”

Fluff

51. “You’re hair is really soft after you wash it.”

52. “Ssh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”

53. “You smell really nice.”

54. “Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.”

55. “I might have slept with your robe when you were gone.”

56. “If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you.”

57. “Here, let’s share the blanket.”

58. “You’re comfy.”

59.“You are very endearing when you are half-asleep.”

60.“But I want to hear you sing.”

61.“Don’t get up - I’ll do it.”

62.“Care to give me a back scratch?”

63.“I think I love you.”

64.“Your bed head is really cute.”

65.“How about a kiss?”

66.“You made this for me?”

67.Aw, you’re blushing.”

68. Uh oh, I know that look. What do you want?”

69. “Let me help you with that.”

70. “I don’t want to forget this moment.”

71.“Are you really flirting with me right now?”

72.“I like the way your hand fits in mine.”

73.“You have something in your hair, umm… Do you want me to get it out?”

74.“It’s nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today.”

75.“This movie is really scary, but you’re into it so I’m trying not to cover my face the whole time, but- WHAT IS THAT?”

76.“Wait, don’t pull away… Not yet.”

77.“Half the time I get too embarrassed to say anything”

78.“No, it’s fine. I can wait until you’re done talking to them.”

79.“No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

80.“You’re a big piece of inspiration for this, honestly.”

81.“I’ve been trying to get ready for like an hour and a half, because I know you’re going to look so good and I need to try and match up.”

82.“I wanted to say “I love you” for the first time without stuttering, but that failed.”

83.“My friends get so annoyed by how much I talk about how sometimes.”

84.“No, mom, don’t tell him/her I said that about him/her!”

85.“I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.”

86.“ You are so beautiful — So fucking beautiful. “

87.“And just WHERE do you think you’re putting your hands?”

88.“Wow, you look even better in the daylight.”

89.“I don’t remember ever having this many hickeys. But I don’t mind.”

90.“We could order pizza and just stay like this all day.”

91.“It was always you.”

92.I love you in every possible way.”

93.“I didn’t mean to love you so much.”

94.“Don’t you hurt a single hair on his/her/their head.”

95.“Duck, you idiot!”

96.“Hey. Pal. I’ve got a wand and I’m not afraid to use it.”

97.“Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.”

98.“It’s not a double date. We’re just third and fourth wheeling.”

99.“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone.”

100.“I remember practicing how to ask you out in the mirror..”

Sarcasm

101.“Define normal.”

102.“Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?”

103.“Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.”

104.“Don’t look for any redeeming qualities. I don’t have any.”

105.“It’s amazing how fast the world can go from bad to total shit storm.”

106.“I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”

107.“And you wonder why you’re still single.”

108.“Remind me to kill you. Please.”

109.“That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”

110.“She’s crazy. And just when you think you’ve reached the bottom of her craziness, there’s a crazy underground garage.”

111.“She may seem like lollipops and rainbows but I bet behind close doors she’s latex and whips.”

112.“If my day gets any worse, I’m asking hell if they’re having an exchange program.”

113.“Sorry. I don’t speak skank.”

114.“My middle finger salutes you.”

115.“I don’t have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel.”

116.Somebody’s cranky.” “Somebody needs to shut up.”

117.“Oh darling. Go buy a brain.”

118.“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

119.“All due respect, but that’s a bunch of crap.”

120.“I am one of the few people in the world who can murder you and leave no forensic evidence behind.”

121.“Excuse me. I have to go make a scene.”

122.“What did I tell you about calling her/him the devil?” “That it’s offensive to the devil?”

123.“I heard that!” “You were supposed to!”

124.“I need therapy after this.”

125.“You didn’t get in trouble for lying. You got in trouble for lying badly.”

126.“I turned out liking you a lot more that I originally planned.”

127.“I think you’re weird.” “I think you’re boring.”

128.“I’m afraid I’ve been thinking…” “A dangerous pastime.”

129.“Wow, there’s a big surprise. I think I’m going to have a heart attack and die from surprise.”

130.“I’m gonna hit you so hard, it’ll make you ancestors dizzy.”

131.“Sarcasm is the body’s natural reaction to stupidity.”

132.“Well, excuse me, psychic wonder!”

133.“Don’t look in her eyes, she might steal your soul.”

134.“She’s hot, but she’s evil.”

135.“Do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably.”

136.“I already know that I’m going to hell. At this point it’s really go big or go home.”

137.“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m a damsel doing damage.”

138.“So stick that in your juice box and suck it.”

139.“Never take life seriously. No one ever comes out alive anyway.”

140.“Sometimes I question my sanity. Occasionally it replies.”

141.“Why should we date?” “Because we are attracted to each other.” “I am attracted to pie, but I do not feel the need to date pie.”

142.“Neither one us is drunk enough for this conversation.”

143.“You’re questioning my methods.” “I’m not questioning it, I’m saying it’s stupid.”

144.“Wow, somebody needs a Happy Meal.”

145.“I didn’t do it!” “Then why are you laughing?” “Because whoever did it is a freaking genius.”

146.“Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots.”

147.“You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions.

148.“Obviously you have mistaken me for somebody who gives a shit.”

149.“Rule number one: don’t bother sucking up. I already hate you, that’s not going to change.”

150.“You make no sense to me.” “Welcome to my life.”

Drama

151.“Can you stop thinking about yourself for once?”

152.“Can you stop thinking about yourself for once?”

153.“Don’t think I forgot about what you did last time.”

154.“I know you lied to me.”

155.“I’m not even sorry.”

156.“You backstabber!” 157.“I never want to see you again.” 158.“You never mattered to me.”

159.“I knew this was a bad idea.”

160.“Rot in hell.”

161.“It was supposed to be a secret!”

162.“No one loves me.” 163.“He/she/they is/are so petty…” 164.“You made me cry.” 165.“I don’t know who you are anymore.” 166.“How DARE you?!” 167.“I know you’re not talking to me…” 168.“I SAW you with him/her/them!”

169.“Just leave me alone.”

170.“What did you do?!” 171.“I told everyone that I didn’t want to talk but I’m actually dying for attention.”

172. “Just admit that was extra…”

173.“I forgive, but I don’t forget.” 174.“Did you see what he/she/they was/were wearing?” 175.“So what if I had sex with your ex?” 176.“There’s something I have to tell you…” 177.“I can’t do this anymore.” 178.“You weren’t there for me when I needed you the most.” 179.“I never loved you.” 180.“It’s too late.”

181.“Quit ignoring me.”

182. “Don’t you get it? It’s because I love you!”

183.“I love you. I’m sorry.”

184.“I don’t want to be friends.”

185.“Can we please pretend I never said that?”

186.“Friendzoned again.”

187.“You should’ve loved me when you had the chance.”

188.“Fuck you for toying with my emotions like that.”

189.“I was there for you when no one else was!”

190.“Alright – I can tell a ‘no’ when I hear it.”

191.“I’m sorry I acted so creepy.”

192.“Fuck. It’s like what they say – nice guys finish last…”

193.“I’m tired of keeping this secret. Even if you don’t love me back.”

194. “I knew that’d be your answer. That’s why I never told you before.”

195.“When I said I loved you, I meant it.”

196.“Is there any part of you, deep down, that might love me back?”

197.“You were the one that left all those notes for me?”

198.“You’re in a relationship with another person – you know this can’t end well.”

199.“We agreed this was just physical!”

200.“I love you. I know you don’t love me, so don’t say it back.”

Ahhh im sorry that was so long, but if you read all the way to here, your a real one.

Again i write for all Hp characters! Feel free to use these prompts as ur own

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sweettodo · 3 years

Note

LMFAO- can u headcannon the aot warriors + y/n in a zoom meeting. and y’know y/n a little baddie and wears a revealing outfit 😩😏

i just saw this tiktok of some fanart of them in a zoom meet and it was the cutest thing EVERRRR.

EREN-

• doesn’t even bother to get out of bed, he just rolls over, picks his laptop from the floor and joins the zoom only to fall back asleep.

• levi constantly attempts to get his attention, and eren doesn’t even budge.

• seldom awake, but when he IS, he will usually interrupt to ask a stupid question: ‘hange where did you get that cool plant?’ or ‘jean i smell you through the zoom call, did you shower today?’

• enjoys changing his background to an odd photo of jean or one of his friends.

• hange will be the first to kick eren out of the zoom, and it’s not like mr. jaeger cares or anything.

• not to mention, he leaves his camera on too. so everyone sees shirtless eren passed out under the blankets with not a regard in the world.

• eats while on the call.

• one day, ( he still thanks god he was awake to see this ) you were working out in the morning before realizing you were already 10 minutes late to your meeting.

• jumping on to the meeting, sweaty, in a revealing sports bra and shorts, you’re apologizing profusely to levi and hange for being late.

• ‘lookin’ good y/n’ eren cackles, but what you or your friends realizing was that eren was now breathless, trying not to stare at you with every bit of will-power he could muster up.

• ‘seems that eren’s pretty awake now, heh’ jean taunts, eren quickly turns off his camera, so he could enjoy looking at you, who decided to wear... that

JEAN-

~ also likes to change his background, plays on his xbox with or without connie, headphones on his head and screaming while levi is muting jean to proceed talking.

~ jean has the pc set up and everything with the two monitors and the colorful custom pc.

~ eren makes fun of him because he uses a microphone. like the ones that have the stand and everything.

~ his room is never fully lit. he used leds, ( blue or green tbh ) shades are always closed.

~ ‘jean, turn off the game. now’ hange swears she tells him everyday.

~ ‘hey jean, didn’t you wear that sweatshirt last time? do you have any other clothes?’ eren ridicules, of course interrupting levi, who’s talking.

~ ‘i see the crumbs on your bed, jaeger!’

~ jean finds himself staring at you once you joined the call, wearing a... revealing... tank top with a very generous bra. his mouth growing increasingly dry.

~ he assumes that no one seems to notice, but when his friends see that he’s quite literally frozen in place, mouth slightly open as he’s looking at your chest.

~ ‘jean’

~ no answer.

~ ‘jean!’

~ ‘hu- yeah, yes?’

~ ‘is your internet having issues? you’re frozen’

MIKASA-

: sits at her desk, she has a picture collage of her, eren and armin on her wall.

: pristine white walls, very clean.

: always needs to call eren to wake him up before the meeting so he doesn’t miss it.

: if she forgets to call eren to wake him up, he blames her for missing the meeting.

: mikasa and armin are always firsts to the meeting.

: she always speaks, and fully participates.

: levi and hange usually are apt to call on her first for her opinions.

: she never turns her camera off, she’s wearing a comfortable but appropriate outfit, jeans and a blouse or shorts and a t shirt.

: sends group emails, for literally whatever reason.

: compliments others backgrounds ( their rooms ).

: reminds eren that his room is a pigsty and he needs to get out of bed, ‘eren, it’s 11:30am, get up.’

: ‘jean, you need to make your bed once and awhile’

: she always compliments what you’re wearing too, ‘i love that top y/n, where’d you get it?’

: and will have absolutely no problem with putting the boys in their place when she catches them gawking at you.

: ‘you guys are like dogs’

: she tells levi to kick them from the meet if they keep staring at you.

ARMIN-

∘ always early.

∘ room is neat, warm looking and he sits on the edge of his bed with his laptop in his lap.

∘ most talkative one here besides levi and hange.

∘ also calls eren every morning to ensure he’s awake.

∘ armin has a notebook and pencil next to him, constantly writing down notes.

∘ always has a presentation ready, a powerpoint or a document to show everyone.

∘ usually sticks to casual, t shirt and jeans.

∘ room is well lit, camera and mic are always on.

∘ also reminds the others to pay attention and be quiet, pleading with them, ‘guys, captain levi is trying to talk.’ also always lectures eren to get out of bed once and awhile.

∘ he doesn’t really pay much attention to what the others are wearing, but he can’t help but glance a few times at your outfit for the day.

∘ it makes his heart pound of his chest when you move to stretch or prop for hand under your chin to listen, your chest on display, arms squeezing them together only a little. he was in awe, swallowing hard and trying not to blush.

∘ avoiding you at all costs.

∘ armin won’t admit it, but he’s a hypocrite, so he’s gonna lecture the boys not to objectify you and tells you that he’s sorry for their immaturity.

∘ but yet here he is.

LEVI-

» cup of tea ready.

» sits at his dining room table.

» dreads having to do the zoom meet, so he’s pretty short tempered the whole time.

» wearing a button up per usual.

» well lit, has a plant in the corner of the room, most likely a cat in the windowsill.

» very english teacher-esque.

» swears the whole time at eren.

» kicks eren and jean out almost every zoom meeting.

» relies on armin for detailed information and analysis’

» needed to ask hange in secret how to present his screen, pin / mute people because he was pretty inept at computers for the most part.

» doesn’t use the mouse pad on his laptop, he connects a mouse because he despises that stupid mouse pad.

» the second he sees what you’re wearing, he shakes his head, ‘tch, i can hear these hounds now’

» yells at the boys to stop being perverts.

CONNIE-

‣ similar to jean, he also used led’s most of the time.

‣ has posters on his walls of music artists, shows, games and people

‣ he sits at his desk, which is cluttered, occasionally plays video games ( not as much as jean )

‣ zones out, looking at something random and blocks out a lot of what hange and levi says.

‣ yawns like 80 times in the span of an hour.

‣ drinks soda, or surfs the web.

‣ his bed is made, and he wears sweatshirts and sweats because like eren, he just got out of bed too.

‣ though connies bed is made, he still has clothes littered here and there, has a rack of shoes in the corner of his room ( he’s a sneaker head )

‣ most likely to not turn his camera on because he leaves the room to do god knows what.

‣ plays imessage games during the call.

‣ teases eren constantly.

‣ he won’t be AS dog-ish when he sees what you’re wearing, but he will say to himself, ‘she has some pretty nice tits’ and will probably text jean saying exactly that. but then he just moved on with his day.

‣ presents memes before the meeting to try and get levi to laugh. it doesn’t work.

HANGE-

≈ shes on her couch.

≈ wears casual outfits.

≈ ushers the boys to participate.

≈ very upbeat and happy.

≈ first person to make an interactive slideshow to get everyone to participate.

≈ shes into sending levi cat memes.

≈ has a cup of coffee next to her, plants and pictures of plants on her wall.

≈ likes to unmute people purposely if their mic is muted.

≈ emails back and fourth with armin and levi for plans for the upcoming meetings.

≈ she will not tolerate anyone disrespecting one another. kicking the boys out to stop them from harassing you about what you’re wearing.

HISORIA-

‹ her room is like a oasis, pastel walls, the vines on her walls and everything.

‹ diffuser in the background and incense.

‹ shes drinking coffee, always dressed, makeup on ( if she chooses to wear it ) and she attends these meetings on her laptop, sitting in front of her vanity.

‹ wears pretty blouses, or a summery dress, hair always fixed to perfection.

‹ sometimes her mom comes in, with cut up fruit and ice water, giving it to her and then leaving.

‹ she has framed pictures of her and everyone on her wall.

‹ also has honor roll certificates on her wall.

‹ she makes sure her vanity light is on so she has good lighting.

‹ also takes notes- color coordinating notes.

‹ she does participate, she laughs at the boys when they act up.

‹ also compliments everyone.

‹ when she catches the boys looking at you, she tells levi to make them knock it off, and then shakes her head in disappointment, ‘you all are so weird, leave y/n alone, you’re making her uncomfortable’

YMIR-

≍ shes usually propped up on her side, laying on her bed or the couch.

≍ she doesn’t participate unless she’s chosen to.

≍ keeps quiet, pays good attention.

≍ she sticks to wearing a sweatshirt and shorts or just a t shirt and leggings.

≍ clean room, warm blue sheets and gray walls.

≍ she gets furious when jean and eren go at it.

≍ shes gonna defend you against the boys pertaining to what you’re wearing, saying, ‘take your dirty eyes off of her’

≍ she doesn’t mind what you’re wearing, she thinks you look really good, but you wouldn’t catch her dead making a comment on your body.

≍ won’t admit it but it makes her flustered seeing how your body looks.

SASHA-

⇝ sits at her kitchen table.

⇝ eating full meals while the meeting takes place.

⇝ doesn’t hesitate to talk when her mouth is full so levi keeps her muted.

⇝ house is very home-y, warm and decorated well, her kitchen is seen in the background with her mom or dad occasionally walking past.

⇝ sometimes asking her mom to make her another sandwich, ( after her third one ).

⇝ always laughing with connie and jean.

⇝ sticks to casual outfits, sweatshirt and leggings, hair always up.

⇝ no filter, so if she catches eren or jean looking at you, she’s gonna jump into action.

⇝ ‘i know you’re not looking at her like that!’

⇝ ‘you better stop looking at her before i go over there!’

⇝ ‘captain if you don’t kick these fools out right now i’ll go over there and kick their asses instead!’

#eren jaeger #sasha aot #connie aot #attack on titan jean #send me drabble requests #hange zöe #levi ackerman #mikasa #armin arlert #ymir aot #historia #attack on titan headcanons #attack on titan #aot drabble #drabbles

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talkfastromance4 · 3 years

Text

Leave before you love me--sebastian stan oneshot

a/n: This scenario has been in my head since I heard this song. Might be a little on the rusty side as I haven’t written in a while and I’m trying to find the groove for writing for Sebastian!

Warnings: drinking mentions, party atmosphere, slight banter, a very lightly mentioned age gap (reader is 25) and he is his true age, heavy 80s inspired theme, angst, unprotected sex

Word count: 2.9k

Feedback is always welcomed and I’m trying to get in the groove still of writing him

Enjoy! 🙂

***

The highway lights flash across his windshield as he zooms by on the road, they’re the last remaining stars in the sky. The bright yellow-orange sun is just about peeking above the horizon and he pushes on the gas, the small orange needle ticking closer to ninety.

His favorite 80’s playlist blares through his speakers and out of his windows, the techno beat of Sunglasses At Night reverberates through his sound system. The wild wind tousled his hair but it cools his body down and slowly takes away your warmth. He taps his thumb on the wheel as he curves with the bend, the lights up above flicker out one by one as he passes by.

Sebastian’s trying not to think about the red marks from your nails that still have a slight burn as he rubs against his driver’s seat. He tries to breathe in and out through the thin of his lips because he can still smell your perfume on his shirt.

He glances at the clock above his screen and he’s right on time which means you will be awakening soon. Sebastian is always consistent.

He rubs at the back of his neck trying not to think of your bare legs peeking out from your sheets, the only thing that covers your skin.

One more twist and the lights have all timed out and your name flashes across his screen, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He always sees you calling and it’s always at 5 a.m when he’s more than halfway away from you.

He’s consistent with his poor timing just as he is consistent with crawling back to you. He accelerates to 100 mph. The revving of the engine mimics his lasting hunger and desire for you but he swallows it down and ignores your call.

It’s not that he wants to leave you. No, it’s just that he can’t stay. There’s a difference. Right?

He pulls into a parking spot at a twenty-four hour diner, the open sign flickers intermittently. He doesn’t get out of the car until your name disappears and the bell jingles as he pulls on the door. There’s a small group of people in the corner huddled together that are still in their club outfits, make-up smeared under their tired eyes.

It reminds him of his own party days, he knows they haven’t slept. Sebastian nods to the woman at the u-shaped counter before he slides into a booth. The waitress approaches with a cup and a full pot of coffee.

“Sugar or creamer?” She asks popping her gum as she pours the steaming liquid in the bronze mug. She’s chewing strawberry gum.

“Neither, thanks,” he huffs.

“Breakfast?”

“Just the coffee,” he shakes his head and looks up at her. “Thanks.”

“Holler if you change your mind,” she nods then traipses her way towards the young group to refill their coffees.

Sebastian lifts the mug and blows carefully over the top of it, the steam rolls over the opposite lip before he takes a drink. The bitter taste feels good on his tongue and wakes him up slightly. He’s not far off from the party group across the way, he hasn’t slept since taking you to bed last night.

He knew beforehand that you’d be there and he kept promising himself that he wouldn’t take you home. He swore to himself that he wouldn’t be hooked by your eyes or your charm. He vowed to himself that he wouldn’t repeat this thing you two have.

It was a mutual friend of a friend that you both know hosting a party that was 80’s themed. On his way he made sure to play his 80’s playlist so he’d be in the right state of mind to participate. He didn’t really dress up too much, just some dark wash jeans and a leather jacket. A leather jacket you fashioned for him with your matching red lingerie set.

Sebastian repeats his promise, his swear, and his vow to himself as he crosses the threshold and is thrown into a swarm of 80’s dressed people. There’s wild hair and bright colors as he moves through the crowd towards the pool, that’s where the makeshift bar is stocked with alcohol.

He subconsciously looks at each face hoping he doesn’t see you--or does he?

Chris, as always, is the bartender whenever there’s a party. He claims it’s his calling at parties to make drinks and chat up new people.

“There’s my guy! Whisky or tequila tonight, buddy?” Chris holds up each bottle of alcohol respectively.

“How about rum and coke?”

Chris lifts his eyebrows in surprise but dutifully proceeds to mix the desired drink. Rum and coke goes down smoother and doesn’t leave him with a splitting headache the next morning or gut rot like tequila does.

It has no relation at all to you preferring rum. Absolutely not.

“Have you seen her yet?” Chris asks, handing his best friend the red plastic cup.

Sebastian finds humor in this, they’re all adults and can afford actual glasses for everyone, and yet they’re supplied with red solo cups like a college house party. He glances around and is pleased to see a beer pong table is set up near the shed where a group of people are playing and cheering.

“Nope. Have you?” He takes a ginger sip testing the taste. It’s mixed well so he swallows some more.

Chris folds his arms and shakes his head.

“No. But I know she’s invited so you two better behave.”

“I will,” Sebastian nods, “I’m going through a three step guide in my head. I’m all good.”

“Yeah? What’s the percentage of it working?”

There’s a collective shout of your name behind him and he cranes his neck to see you being lifted in the air by the mutual friend of a friend you two share. You’re at the beer pong table and apparently you made the winning shot.

Sebastian looks away before he can really get a good look at you in your outfit but the flash of your skin flickers in his mind. He meets Chris’ eyes.

“Guess we’ll find out.”

Sebastian does a good job of steering clear of you. His three step guide that he made up seems to be working but the more rum he drinks he gets them a little jumbled. He just took a shot with some guy he’s been talking to about cars when he feels a light tap on his shoulder.

“You’re supposed to dress up.”

He nearly chokes on his shot at the sound of your voice. Sebastian places the shot glass a little haphazardly on the table before turning around and he groans at the sight of you and Tom Jones’ voice is singing ‘She’s a Lady’ over the sound system.

You’re in high waisted jeans, a ruffled white bandeau and black suspenders that cling to your bare stomach. Your hair is styled in high volume and the lipstick you have on is so red he wonders if it tastes like cherries.

His eyes drink you in and land on your red nails that are placed on your waist, he takes in a deep breath before traveling back up to your eyes.

“I did dress up.”

“As who?” you scoff with a laugh taking in his own outfit. He notices how your eyes linger on the jacket.

“Leather jackets were very fashionable in the 80’s. The whole...rocker look,” he waves his hand off dismissively. “I should know.”

“You wore a lot of leather jackets as a toddler?” you snicker. “It was jean jackets and big hair.”

“And how would you know? You weren’t alive then,” he grins.

“I do my research,” you shrug. “And the 80's are coming back.”

“Well, who are you supposed to be?” he turns as you pull a can of Mike’s Hard Lemonade from a cooler, it’s strawberry lemonade. He holds his hand out expecting you to ask for help to pop it open but you open it yourself and toss the bottle cap onto the table.

“You’re joking, right?” you take a smooth chug of your drink.

“Are you portraying what a young woman in the 80’s would wear to a party?” he guesses taking in your outfit once more.

He promises not to...what was the first step again?

“I’m Kelly Kapowski,” you sigh with an eye roll then they widen at his vacant expression. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen Saved by the Bell?”

“I don’t watch much tv. Does she look half as good as you do in this outfit?” his eyes drift over you once more.

He swears he won’t….what was it that he swore he won’t do?

“She looks better actually.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he smirks and you shake your head. “How’ve you been? Sorry I left early that last time we were together. I had an appointment that I forgot--what’s so funny?”

You’re laughing at his ramblings of the last time you spent the night together and he left at 5 a.m before you even woke up.

“I know you’re an asshole, you don’t have to cover it up with excuses,” you snicker then pull the neck of a rum bottle up from behind the counter.

“I am an asshole, aren’t I?” he watches you pour the drink into two shot glasses.

“Yeah you are. Shall we cheer to that?” you lift up a shot glass to him.

“Sure,” he laughs.

You clink glasses then swallow the shot in one go. He watches you while he takes his and smiles at the way your body shivers from the pure rum, and he’s zeroed in on your lips as your tongue swipes up the remaining rum.

The night continues with you two playing beer pong and winning three times consecutively. You’re touching his arm and leaning on him while you banter with your opponents. He gets a little mesmerized when you hold your hand behind your back as you take your shots and how you toss your hair back before each throw.

When you swat at a ball, you bump the table and he catches you by the waist so you don’t topple to the grass. You’re both giggling and he feels how cold your skin is.

“You’re freezing,” he murmurs in your hair, his fingers rubbing against the goosebumps on your stomach.

“I’m pleasantly warm and drunk.”

“You have goosebumps.”

“That’s because you’re touching me.”

Your eyes meet but before either one of you could say something else, you’re being called back into the game.

Sebastian ends up making the winning throw and you exclaim in joy then jump into his arms from the excitement. He laughs and spins you around in victory.

“Woah! No spinning or I’ll throw up!” you shriek in laughter and he stops abruptly.

When you’re bored of playing the game you take his hand and drag him inside to the makeshift dance floor. Your bodies move together as Queen plays and Madonna. Then when ‘Hungry Eyes’ comes on, your bodies are flushed together.

You’re dancing on the edge about to take it too far than you both know you should. His hips move against yours in a way you know all too well and you’re looking at him with those damn eyes of yours. Your eyes always mess with his head. He stops his hips then cups the back of your neck pulling your lips to his.

You kiss him back and he’s shocked at the taste of strawberries and not cherries but it makes him kiss you with more fervor. Your fingers slip into his hair as you continue to kiss amongst the crowd. He feels his head clear as your lips move with his, your body pressed against every inch of his.

“Want to get out of here?” he mumbles in your ear and you nod.

He’s always so good at knowing when to leave the party and he doesn’t care who notices. It’s a known fact that you two show up separately but inevitably leave together. It’s a habit that never breaks.

Back at your place, you fumble with your keys as he kisses your neck and his fingers are teasing the lower part of your stomach. You crash through the door in a tangle of arms and legs. He kicks the door shut and captures your lips in the same movement.

He moves through your darkened apartment like so many times before and makes sure to watch for the door handle. He’s bumped his hip too many times in the past. You make quick work of yanking his jacket off just as he snaps your suspenders from the clips.

You gasp when he suckles on your neck, his hands hot and needy on your waist and stomach. He always remembers how much he misses you when you’re together like this again. When he wants to touch you in a certain spot you move your body so he can before he gets a chance to voice it. You’re never afraid to tell him to keep doing whatever it is he’s doing and the noises you make?

You unclasp the frilly white fabric and Sebastian is quick to cup your breasts in his hands and attach his mouth to one of them. You hum in response, carding your fingers through his hair as his tongue rolls and swirls over your bud in a tickling fashion that twists your stomach in knots.

You back up until you fall onto the bed together and he removes his clothes while you shimmy out of your jeans.

“Wait,” he stops your hands from pulling your panties down, his hands over yours. “Let me.”

You smile and let him take off your last article of clothing. He leaves open mouthed kisses up from the curve of your knee, up your thigh and stomach. His tongue leaves a trail between your breasts and you feel him against his thigh.

You moan and he takes himself in his hand, ready to guide himself inside you.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you gasp breathlessly and he stops his movements quickly.

“Are you okay? Do you feel sick or need water?” he asks, cupping your cheek in his hand.

Your hand covers his, your eyes steady on him.

“I’m okay. I want this--you, always but…”

“What?”

“Promise you won’t leave tomorrow?”

Your request is simple and staring at you now he’ll fulfill anything you want. He nods and a faint bell of a promise rings in his ear. Was this what he was trying to remember earlier? The promise of not leaving you?

You lift your head connecting your lips and he swears he’ll keep this promise just as he sinks into you. Your moan is so sweet and you fit around him so perfectly it makes his body shiver slightly. Just like on the dancefloor, your bodies move rhythmically and the faster he moves the louder you get.

Your nails make large arcs in his back as you orgasm twice. You’re panting his name, your nails falling slack against his sweaty back.

“So good for me,” he pants, dragging your hands up above your head. He lifts his head from your shoulder to look at you. “Got one more for me, baby? Hm?”

“Mhm,” you nod, already feeling your stomach twist at his words.

“Yeah you do, you’re such a good girl for me,” his hips start to move at a quicker pace again. Your mouth opens in pleasure as he hits the right spot. “Always so good for me.”

He watches you come for a third time, your moan long and sweet and then you’re snatching his hair in your fingers. You bring his lips to yours frantically.

“I want you to come for me,” you whisper. “Wanna feel you.”

He groans at your words and licks into your mouth, thrusting as fast as he can chasing his own release. You moan along with him and then he pulls out and his body pulses. He tastes strawberries.

Sebastian has his face in his hands as he remembers the swear, promise, and vow he made to himself and the one he made you. He broke all four including two hearts. He’s doubled over in the allotted strikes.

After being together last night he cleaned you up and got you some aspirin and a glass of water. You rolled over and fell asleep in seconds and he stayed up the whole night forcing himself to stay. He stared at the ceiling chasing his thoughts and then when you rolled over cuddling into him he almost fell asleep.

When the birds started to chirp that’s when he slipped out from underneath you and put his clothes back on. He noticed the goosebumps on your legs and covered you up then kissed your forehead with a whispered, ‘I’m sorry.’

You deserve better than him and that’s why he leaves before you could love him. If he stays he’ll never want to leave and that’s dangerous for his heart and yours.

His phone buzzes again but this time it’s a text message from you.

Delete my number and if you see me at a party, don’t approach me. I’m so over this Seb. This is the last time you break my heart.

He should feel relief that this is the end, but he only feels worse. Why couldn’t he just stay?

********

taglist: @cxddlyash @calumance (tagging you because you let me scream about ideas)

#sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan writing #sebastian stan fic #seb stan fic #seb stan oneshot #seb stan angst

67 notes · View notes

lavendersuh · 3 years

Text

what a feeling

johnny x fem!reader | badboy!au, too much fluff | 2.4k words

warnings: mentions of nicotine addition, alcohol

based off of this moodboard and au idea created by @neo-cult-ure!! thank you luv for allowing me to play around with this au idea! I originally wrote this bc i loved the idea and just wanted to self indulge in some writing a few nights ago. I probably could’ve fleshed this out more, but i’m in the middle of exams so i probably shouldn’t even be writing fic rn haha (fair warning tho there is so much fluff help) hope u enjoy!!

~~~

“I need your help.”

Haechan looks up to see an unexpected face peering over him. It wasn’t every day that resident bad boy Johnny Suh was asking a drama student for something. While the two of them ran around in slightly similar circles due to their mutual acquaintances, Haechan can’t remember the last time he spoke one-on-one with Johnny.

“What do you need my help with?” he asks curiously, as he shuts his locker.

“There’s this girl.” Johnny says, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, “She’s different, Haechan, I need your help.”

Johnny has always been the most confident person Haechan knows. He always admired him for that, but now it appears that the tall boy has a rosy tiny covering his cheeks, along with a sheepish smile.

“My help? I can’t imagine being much help compared to Jaehyun… isn’t he your wing man?” Haechan responds.

He begins walking away, heading for his next class. He didn’t hate Johnny, nothing even close to that, but he was a bit suspicious of why he was coming to a self-proclaimed nerdy, drama student for help.

“This is different…” Johnny mumbles as he catches up with Haechan, “Do you know that diner a few blocks from here? The Neo Zone?”

Haechan looks over at him, “That neon, throwback place? Yeah, the theater kids go there after practice sometimes.”

“There’s a waitress there.” The older boy says, “She’s pretty, her laugh is like a song, Haechan, she’s perfect.”

“The problem, then?” Haechan asks. Johnny didn’t seem like the kind of person to have trouble with the ladies.

“She wants nothing to do with me.”

Haechan can’t help the laugh he lets out, “Did your usual flirting not work out for you?”

Johnny wasn’t a terrible guy, in fact, he could be very respectful (despite the cheesy pick-up lines sometimes), with a nice sense of humor and friendly smile to go along with it. But he had some bad habits. He refused to buy a helmet for his precious motorcycle. He smoked more than he should. He wasn’t always present during school hours. But underneath the leather jacket and torn up jeans, the boy wasn’t all that bad. He loved to flirt and fool around, but he never took things farther than someone wanted.

Johnny frowns at Haechan’s laughter, “I was hoping you could help me. She’s interested in 80s films, and I know you’re into stuff like that. You have a huge collection, don’t you? Could I borrow The Breakfast Club? Sixteen Candles?”

“Yeah, I can lend you some of them this weekend.” Haechan stops in front of the door to his next class, turning around to look back at Johnny, who’s grinning with appreciation.

“But Johnny?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s gonna take more than just flirting and watching her favorite movies. You gotta get to know her.”

Johnny throws him a classic smirk, his confidence returning to his face, “Will do, Haechan.”

~~~

“Hey, Y/N!”

You turn around without Johnny seeing the roll of your eyes. After his shameless flirting last weekend you knew he would probably be back.

His flirting wasn’t creepy; it was actually a little bit flattering. You couldn’t count on your hand the number of men that had spoken their fair share of sleezy comments to you. Johnny’s flirting was refreshing (but maybe that was just because he seemed to be your age instead of thirty years your senior). He asked about your favorite movies when you had mentioned liking 80s films. He complimented the sneakers you painted yourself.

But alas, he was also a walking stereotype, with the leather jackets and motorcycle parked just out front. When you waited on his table last time, you nearly coughed over the smell of nicotine that followed him around.

“Hi, Johnny,” you say, leading him to a booth in the corner, laying out the menu on the table.

“I watched some of the movies you told me about,” he says, smiling brightly at you, “Got any more recommendations?”

You can’t help but feel a bit flustered at the fact that he watched some of the stuff you recommended. He was paying you a lot more attention than you had previously thought.

While you take his order and bring out his food, Johnny flirts and makes jokes. You can’t help but smile at some of the things he says, despite yourself. By the end of his meal, you bring out his receipt, showing him the list of movies you wrote on the back in black pen.

“Thanks! Maybe I could take you out and we could talk about them sometime?” he asks, a hopeful gleam in his eye.

You roll your eyes at him, “You’re gonna have to do more than just watch my favorite movies for me to change my mind about you.”

“Am I really that bad?”

“You aren’t bad, Johnny. I just feel like I deserve more than just someone who smokes and rides a motorcycle without protection.” You say, walking off to ring up his order and get his change.

He huffs as you walk off. What was he to do?

~~~

‘This is stupid,’ Johnny thinks to himself as he pulls up to the diner, a week and a half later. He was driving Haechan’s car, but that wasn’t the only thing he had borrowed.

When Johnny had reconvened with the boy, Haechan told him he needed to change up his act in order to impress you.

And somehow this is how Johnny ended up walking into the diner with a dorky sweater and his hair neatly combed on a Friday evening. The neon sign of the diner glowed into the car, casting shadows on the funny pattern of the sweater.

He felt so stupid, but he was also kind of desperate. It was Haechan that had come up with the plan after suggesting he dress a bit nicer.

“I don’t know if I have any ‘nice’ clothes, Haechan,” Johnny had told the other boy.

“Then you can borrow some of mine!” Haechan looked up at how tall his friend was, “Or maybe my brother’s…”

Johnny knows he went overboard but he also really wants to see your smile again. He supposes it’s worth it.

“Welcome in,” you say, but as you turn around, you pause, “...Johnny?”

He smiles, reminding himself that he can be confident without the bad boy clothes and aesthetic. “Does your shift end soon? Could I take you out for ice cream?”

Somehow you can’t help but find the outfit change endearing, so you find yourself nodding. The boy was clearly trying to impress you, so you should at least give him a chance. And ice cream sounded excellent after a long shift. It couldn’t be all that bad, could it?

~~~

It ended up being quite nice, actually.

Johnny took you to an ice cream shop on the edge of town, leading you to a picnic bench after getting two cones of ice cream. As the sun fully slipped away and the stars started to come out along the purple sky, you both discussed movies, the future, your favorite foods, everything.

He was a good listener, holding eye contact and asking questions, full of attention. He told lovely stories when he wanted to, as well. You couldn’t help but find yourself to be a bit drawn to him when you finally gave him the time of day. His humor, his soft smiles, his contagious laugh. It was clear to see it would be easy to fall for someone like him.

It was hard though, knowing the reputation he held. He did risky things, a cigarette in one hand, his motorcycle keys in the other. From his stories, you knew he cut class. He never wore a helmet, either.

Just because he wore a nice sweater and borrowed a friend’s car didn’t change these things.

“I hope we can do this again, sometime.”

Johnny lightly holds your hand as he stands outside of your front door while dropping you off.

You looked up at him, his face soft under your front porch light. There was so much hope in his eyes, hope for the idea that you would give him more of your time, more of your smiles.

“Oh, Johnny,” you say, slowly, “This is really sweet, but this isn’t you.”

He looks confused for a moment, protesting, “Of course, this is me. I just cleaned up my act, like you said.”

You frown, “Sure, I did say that, but you changed all the outside pieces of yourself.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” he asks.

“What? Johnny, no, of course not!” you exclaim, “I don’t care if you have this ‘bad boy’ act, and drink, and ride motorcycles. I just hate that you are so careless with yourself. You smelled like smoke every time I saw you. You never wear a helmet. You refuse to go to class sometimes. It hurts me seeing someone so bright, someone I’m enjoying getting to know, do nothing but hurt themselves.”

You squeeze his hand, hoping to offer some form of comfort while you speak your truths. “Just cause you changed your clothes doesn’t mean you are changed for the better.”

“What are you saying?”

“I like you, Johnny. You.” you say, taking his hand in yours, “Not this dressed up, masked version of you. I just want you to care about yourself. So I can care about you, too.”

Things are quiet for a moment, as Johnny stares at the ground. Finally, he looks up at you, an unknown flicker in his eyes.

You let go of his hand, “You have some stuff to work through. You’re sweet, Johnny, and I’m happy that we’ve gotten to know each other. Please call me when you figure things out.”

You go inside, leaving him frozen in place.

~~~

“Has Johnny come in lately?”

You are startled out of wiping down tables at the diner when you hear someone speak to you. You look up to see a honey-haired boy, who you recognize as Haechan, one of the drama club kids from school.

“You know him?” you ask, your eyes narrowed.

“Yeah,” Haechan rubs the back of his neck, “We’ve become friends recently. He told me he liked you. Asked to borrow some movies and stuff.”

Realization dawns on you that Johnny had probably gone to Haechan to get some guidance. The thought makes your heart squeeze. You’d been curious about where Johnny was getting the knowledge from. You recall Haechan being in the after school film club as well.

“He stopped coming in a while ago,” you say, “I gave him my number after we went out once, but I didn’t hear from him.”

You try to keep the feeling of sadness from washing over you, but you’re surprised at how affected you are by Johnny’s absence in the past few weeks. While his flirting could be a bit relentless sometimes, there was no doubt that he respected you through all of his charming antics.

“Hm..” Haechan seems to be deep in thought at your words.

You ask him if he wants to order anything, but he declines, thanking you for the offer before leaving nearly as soon as he had entered.

~~~

“Hey.”

You look up on your way out of the diner after your shift, startled by a voice. Johnny stands in the parking lot, next to his motorcycle, a soft smile across his face. He has his leather jacket back on, but surprisingly, you notice he has a helmet tucked under his arm, too.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, walking up to him, “You haven’t come in for a while.”

“Thought I’d come stop by,” he grins. “I heard you missed me.”

You look down shyly at the pavement, “I never said that… but yeah, I guess.”

It was a surprising feeling as you confessed that small truth to Johnny. It was boring around the diner without his conversations and flirting words. It felt nice to let those words out.

Johnny leans behind him, grabbing another, smaller helmet, “Wanna take a ride? I wanna take you out for another date. I even bought you a helmet. Hope you’re not scared to go a little fast.”

You nod, unable to keep the smile off of your face. It was nice hearing Johnny’s bluntness again. He seemed more relaxed, more comfortable with himself.

You run over to your car quickly, shoving your bag into the backseat before walking back over to Johnny. You climb on to the bike behind him, feeling him place the extra helmet on your head. While he adjusts it, his fingers brush across your face, sending chills down your spine.

Once he’s back in position, you boldly wrap your arms around his torso, letting your head rest across his jacket. You take a deep breath, expecting to smell the nicotine that follows him around, but his leather jacket smells fresh.

“Did you quit smoking?” you ask, as he turns on the motorcycle.

“Yeah, I quit after our date,” he explains, “I was kinda unbearable for a while there… That's why I didn’t come into the diner. After a while, I figured you woulda forgot about me.”

You let out a laugh as he pulls out of the parking lot, “How could I ever?”

You both ride along in silence, aside from your nervous laughs as the motorcycle speeds through traffic. You notice the elevation getting higher as he rides outside of the city.

Finally, he pulls off next to a scenic outlook overlooking the metropolis. The sun is starting to set, casting shadows along the buildings, along Johnny’s face. You can’t tell which you find more beautiful.

“I want to thank you.” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you to look at him.

“For what?”

“For caring about me. I didn’t even care about me.” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek.

You smile up at him, his soft words making you bold. You lean in, kissing his lips in response. After you pull back, Johnny wraps his arms around you, pulling you into the warmest hug of your life.

It seemed simple, really. As the sun set with an orange glow, marking the end of a day, it also marked a new beginning. It left you both with a warm feeling. And what a feeling it was.

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