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baddiewiththebook · 7 months

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ONE OF THE BOYS

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n originally a one-shot, but I couldn’t help myself and wrote some more!

Part 1 [Part 2]

-> <-

Your heart sinks into the deepest pits of your chest. The tiny inconspicuous hole where no one would ever look. Your spirit lies under the earth, while Eddie lies bricks instead of dirt across your corpse. A quite violent death you have taken on.

“Are you still with us?” Gareth waves a hand in front of your face. Grease slips between his fingers from his two day old burger that your school pretends was freshly slapped on a grill that morning.

You squirm. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Eddie says you could come to practice,” he throws his hand up. “You’re one of the boys!”

Right.

Like someone had thrown water across your face, you slide theatrically to the floor in a puddle of you. Theatrically speaking - of course.

The lunchroom chatter dies in the back of your head like you just did a moment ago. You excuse yourself from the group, while claiming that you have forgotten your exam in the next class period and you should really put in at least a few moments of study time.

Your few moments are actually spent stowing yourself away in the ladies room.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe he asked you out!” A girl squeals. “What are you going to wear? Tell me everything!”

You had stopped your self doubting and your eternally ill fading romantic imaginations you came up with while you stare at the dull gaze in your eye behind the dirty spotted bathroom mirror. You should focus on your studies anyway. Failing your senior year of high school, again, was not on your list of to-do's.

Then again, the two girls gossiping were very pretty. You took notes. Hair full and down to her chest in length. The kind of hair Texas wishes they had. Cheeks were plump, and dusted pink with some powder of sorts. Full lips covered in sweet strawberry gloss. You can smell their gloss from just a sink away. That, or perhaps that was their perfume. Sweet and feminine.

“I'm sorry,” one of them notices you staring, while she applies a thick coat of her lip-gloss. 'Strawberry Dream' is what the little label on the tube reads. “Are we being loud?”

“No, no,” you shake your head.

“Okay,” she sings awkwardly, before continuing the conversation her friend had started. “Anyway, Josie, I think we should go shopping for a new outfit. Oh! I - so - need a new gloss. Something sexy!”

“Sexy?” You accidentally slip the words, before you could stop yourself.

The girl cocks her head. “Do you usually eavesdrop?”

Not that they weren’t talking in front of her.

“My bad,” you tug at the ends of your t-shirt. “Erm- you’re trying to impress this boy?”

“Yes,” she says simply. “Do you have some sort of advice?”

Looking you up and down, she spots the stains from your lunch at your chest. Trying not to snort and jeer at your expense, she waits for you to respond. Her cocky tight lipped smile says enough.

“Actually,” you reply. “I- Why don’t you try being yourself? He clearly likes you to ask you out, so maybe you could tone it down?”

“Tone it down?” She frowns. “Like you? Tell me er- girl of some sort- how many dates have you gotten with that fresh out of bed look you wear every single day. You look like a shy boy. Yeah, I see you around. You’re small like a shrimp. You need to be shark in these waters or your going to get your head bitten off. Put on a bra. A low cut top. And, maybe some blush to hide that dead corpse face you wear-,”

“It’s my skin-,”

“When you get a date, then you get an opinion. Got it?”

“Got it,” you zip your lips. What a bitch.

-> <-

Practice, as the group of men slamming poorly synchronized chords together, is held at Gareth’s garage promptly after school. You did not participate in the noise, but rather you sit in a lawn chair onlooking. Fanning yourself with your hands, sweat glistens across your skin like armor.

Your friends finish their set. Eyes on you, you cheer for their noise that will surely draw eyes from the neighborhood. Someone will be by soon to tell the boys to quiet their racket, and to perhaps indulge themselves in a new activity like reading a book. The Book, perhaps.

“You’re getting better,” you propose promisingly.

Eddie nudges your shoulder with a fist on his way to the cooler to grab a cold soda. You pretend like your heart didn’t just stop inside of your chest.

“I told you, guys,” Eddie has been raving to his band mates (and occasional D&D players) that you, his B.F.F., wasn’t going to ruin practice. That just because you might have a new rack and hips hidden underneath this t-shirt wasn’t going to change any dynamic within the group.

They all agreed about this while staring at your ever growing chest and hips. You cover your chest again, before speaking out of turn.

“Are you ever going to preform these songs?” You ask the group.

Eddie’s plush lips touch the bottle his soda came in. Condensation from the glass dripped across his chin and down his neck to the exposed flesh of his chest.

And, they were so worried about you “developing.” Here you are, eyeballing your best friend like you haven’t ever seen him before. Suddenly, you woke up one morning and you were obsessed with him!

It isn’t like that at all. You didn’t know when you began having feelings for your best friend. Somewhere between living next to each other in the trailer park. Sneaking out after your curfew to splash in Lovers Lake (Eddie’s favorite way to wash off his worries). And, the times you tripped over your own clumsiness when Eddie was the first to rescue you. You might have just fallen into his eyes you stared at them so long. Maybe- maybe that’s when something changed.

No more boys and girls - there are men and women. High school changes us - all of us. There’s science behind it all, you suppose. You took health courses, but no scientific explanation could bring you to figure out how you were completely enamored by your best friend.

Your best friend, who is sweating underneath the heat of the garage. Finding himself without options, he strips his shirt.

“Hold this for me,” he says like there’s no issue. Because there was no issue for him, you’re alone in your feelings. Classic.

“Sure,” you fold his shirt up in your lap, while resisting the urge to inhale his scent like a trained dog trying to find a missing person. Or, like an addict getting their fix for the first time in days.

“And, yes,” Eddie announces, before slamming down a new chord. “Come watch us at the Hideout!”

“Really?!”

“Sure,” Gareth speaks for his friend. “If you want.”

“I’ll come,” you ask, “What time?”

“We’ll start setting up around six in the evening, but we’re not set to play until seven,” Eddie explains to you. “Friday.”

You nod. “I’ll be there!”

“Oh, Eddie!” Gareth grabs his attention. “You gonna bring Roxie?”

Roxie Martin? Now, she’s a hot pair of tits in a mini skirt. Full scarlet lips, Rockin’ Roxie, as some people called her, was a She Devil in human skin. Sinking her teeth into her pray, she poisons them with feminine venom. She doesn’t even have to sing them a tune, for men will follow her into the depths of the vast blue ocean without question.

Some just thought she was a slut in heels, though.

Whatever story floats.

Eddie strums a sour note.

“Dude, I’m just teasing,” his friend snickers.

Eddie scolds his friend, then the group of boys begin to slam on their instruments some more.

You sat there for hours watching Eddie slobber over his guitar. Sweat glistened down across his skin. His fingers striking each chord by heart as he did every night. Touching the strings expertly with the tips of his cherry red fingers. He begun feeling sore towards the end of the night, and the guys agree that it would probably be a good opportunity to turn in for the night.

Practice would resume tomorrow.

And you were forever and eternally frustrated.

-> <-

“Robin,” you slouched over the clear candy bowl labeled ‘Free.’ “I need to be a girl.”

Robin jabs away at the keypad of the store computer that is clearly frozen. While she might be renting out videos to people, Robin’s shit with technology.

That gave her more time to ignore her responsibilities, however, and acknowledges to your moping. With an arched brow, she sucks in her lips and she lets them go with a loud pop.

“You are a girl,” she states the obvious, while appearing to look down at your chest. “Or- so I think.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you stuff more candy into your mouth like a starved squirrel just coming out from hibernation. Squirrels hibernate, don’t they? Whatever.

“What ever could you possibly mean?” She props herself up onto her elbows.

There was a time when you were a child that a mean boy kicked dirt on you at the playground. Swooping in like your knight in shining armor, Eddie came to you to brush the dirt from your clothes and to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Feeling outcasted, Eddie surrounded himself in the weaker kids. The kids that enjoy recess sitting on the brick wall of their school, or close by the door to wait for your teachers to let you back inside.

You read books with him during quiet reading because he didn’t know how to keep the letters from mixing together. Eddie would apologize for his hair being frizzy, and all over the place. You thought he was funny looking like that.

Sometimes you wish you could go back to the good old days where your heart didn’t sing in your chest whenever your childhood best friend was near. You wish the aching in your bones would sooth itself instead of feeling fuzzy every time Eddie greeted you at a whisper from behind. That his strong hand touching you like a doll would become friendly again, and less like you want to shove him against the lockers to kiss his pretty face.

You knew better.

Yet, here you are.

Say it had something to do with what happened yesterday. Roxie’s sexy. You want her sexy. Not her. But, just the sexy. And, whoever was in the bathroom was right. You’re much more than a baggy t-shirt and a pair of denim on your legs. You grew up during the summer, and so what if you want to show off a bit. You earned your assets.

“I can’t tell you,” you put out there for Robin to read. “You’ll blab to Steve, and Steve will tell- doesn’t matter.”

You wait for her to speak, but Robin never does. She blinks at you.

“There’s this boy-,”

“A boy?!” Her voice echoes against the furthest most walls.

You wave your hands. “Robin!”

“Go on!”

“I just - I want to grow up a little.”

The jangle of the front door opening broke their conversation apart. There was nothing elegant about Eddie Munson. He slammed his jacket into the stand of desperately rentable tapes. The display wobbled. Swiveled. And, slammed into the floor. The video tapes splattered.

“Dude!” Robin huffs. “I just put those up!”

Eddie scrambles to rescue the mess. “My bad, Robs. You know? You might not want to put these right in front of the walkway. ‘Could get knocked over - see?”

Robin knew Eddie from class. Smart mouth guy with a lot to say about literature. He held a lot in his head, but once he got to a piece of paper, he could just go.

“The usual, Eddie?”

Oh, and he also rented out the same tape once a week for the past three weeks. It was a Rated R film that had a single one minute scene of a nude woman on top of a man she was suffocating. Not with her boobs- with his belt.

Robin snaps back into reality.

“Eh, looking for something new,” he fixed the display, before joining the girls at the register. “Suggestions?”

Robin slams her palm against the monitor. “Stupid thing is still frozen. Oh! Did you hear your little pal has a crush on a boy?”

“Robin!” You cringe. Turning into the wallpaper sounds really nice right about now. Hell, you’ll fix that computer if it gets Robin off the topic of you.

Anyone, she can blab to anyone, but Eddie. Where was Steve when you needed him? Oh, you are so screwed!

“What? It’s just Eddie!”

Just Eddie - yeah, Robin, that’s the problem.

“A crush? On who?” Eddie scoffs out loud.

Your jaw goes agape. “Are you saying I can’t have a crush on someone?”

“No, I just- you’re one of the guys!”

“She can’t be one of the guys forever,” Robin defends you. Perhaps she saw you twitch. “She’s a girl underneath those stains.”

You brush your dirty t-shirt.

“Robin-,”

“What? Whoever this boy is, he’s shit out of luck if he doesn’t see what we all see,” your friend continues.

Eddie teeters his balance back and forth on each foot.

“I’m going to go look for a movie,” he says.

Robin ignores him shuffling into the isles. “I’m just saying if he doesn’t like you back that is his loss. Right?”

You peak around for any sight of Eddie. His frizzy mane is locked onto a movie in the farthest isle.

“Oh my god,” Robin follows your gaze. “Oh my god! This is big- no, huge- I can’t believe before my eyes your friends to lovers trope-,”

“Robin! Hush!” You whisper at a much louder volume than you anticipate.

Yet, here comes Eddie back to the counter without a film in hand. Robin shoots you a glance that screams that she’s about to burst like a toddler who has to pee, but they can’t get their overalls off.

“Can’t find anything?” Robin intertwined her fingers in front of her.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Eddie sighs.

The sound that came from Robin’s lips could have been the earth splitting in two, and trying to suck her in or the angels above calling her back to heaven. She’s a bit eccentric.

Oh, God, you think she’s plotting.

“Actually,” she settles. “I have a film back here that we haven’t set out on shelves yet.”

“Is it a romance?” He guesses purely based on the actors gazing longingly on the front cover. “Robin, I don’t do romance.”

“Obviously,” she says as a matter-of-fact. “Anyway, this is a mystery. Hm? You know? Like clues and shit.”

“Clues and shit?”

“Maybe,” you signal ‘no’ to Robin, but she blatantly ignores you, “you two can watch it together. Hm? Solve the mystery, before the show ends? Let me know what you think!”

“Robin-,” Eddie begins, but Robin is already scanning the tape to rent out.

“It’ll be fun!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I’ll see you around six for a movie night like old times?”

You mask your embarrassment. Nodding in a set agreement, Eddie left with the film still eyeing the cover like it had just insulted him.

“How could you do that?” You shame her.

Robin shrugs her shoulders, while dancing behind the counter like a relationship fairy.

“Oh! You’ll need something to wear by then!” She shouts to her coworker. “Steve! I’m not feeling well! Will you be okay for the rest of the day?!”

“Ah ha,” Steve appears like he’s been waiting for permission to enter the conversation. “You’re not leaving me here by myself!”

“What was that? I can’t hear you,” she points to her ear, as she’s setting her jacket over her shoulders. “Ear ache.”

“Robin!”

“Huh? Oh, thank you!” She shuffles herself and you out the front door.

Warm air meets you outside. Although you wished to take off another layer, you felt practically naked as is. Cotton blend shirts were thick in these spring days. The same could be said for your denim jeans.

“Won’t he be mad?” You ask.

Robin snorts. “Steve? No.”

No explanation given - no explanation necessary. Robin and Steve were like a pair of siblings at most times. Although, knowing Steve had a thing for Robin at some point made the analogy much creepier than it should have been.

You drive yourself and Robin back to your home where your family was not. They’re out of town for the whole week doing an anniversary trip. Figuring your of the age to take care of yourself, they’ve left you by yourself with only the responsibility of keeping the home clean.

“What are we looking for?” You sit on your made bed hugging one of your pillows to your chest, while Robin riffles through your closet.

Robin shoves another dress across the hanger to the disapproved pile. Her grunts and sighs are discouraging as is, but rather her blatant disregard that you like some of those clothes is hurting even more. Or, maybe you like those clothes. You haven’t gone shopping in a while.

“Do you own anything that isn’t from Forever 40?” She jokes heartily.

You tilt your head to one side. “I like my clothes.”

“Well, we don’t have time for shopping,” she scans around your room for something. Jostling your clean laundry, your papers across your desk and the drawers under them - she finally lets out an, “Ah, ha!”

You groan. “Are you going to clean your mess?”

Clearly ignoring you, Robin holds up a sharpened pair of scissors like a magic wand. Holding one of your plain shirts in the air, she begins slicing away at every angle.

“Hey!” You protest.

She pauses. “Right, put it on.”

“Rob, that’s my favorite shirt!”

“I’ll buy you another one,” she shoves your head through the hole, and continues sniping at the edges. Fondling your chest, she measures where the top of your breast lies. “Hey! Your the first woman to let me touch their boobs. Congrats!”

You laugh at this. “Robin, as your friend, you can touch my boobs any time you need a fix.”

“Don’t tease me with a good time,” she jokes back. With one more snip, she steps away from you. “You have any skirts? No, of course you don’t. Jeans will have to do.”

You couldn’t hear Robin’s tangent. In the standing mirror hung on your wall, you saw someone new. Surely, she moves when you move. Her chest bounces while she breathes. That tan from the summer on the beach is touching her skin in a most devilish manor. You hold your chin a bit higher seeing what a few snips from craft scissors will do.

“Makeup!” Robin insists.

Pink rouge presses into your cheekbones. Those cheekbones you earned from your grandmother. That’s always the compliment your mother spoke. And, mascara coated thickly across your eyelashes. Your lashes are rather short, but with that black mascara you were seeing yourself glow with confidence.

Lip gloss that tasted like honey-

“In case you’re kissing any boys tonight,” she clicks the tube together with the wand. “My dear, you’re ready.”

You take a spin in the mirror.

“I hardly recognize myself,” you touch your hair.

Robin slaps your hand away. “Don’t mess that up, before Eddie gets here. Oh! And, look at the time, I should go.”

You’re left by yourself for another hour. Twiddling your thumbs, and checking your makeup by the minute. Eventually, you pop popcorn in the microwave and place the bowl in the center of the coffee table in the living room. You twist the bowl around, so you can’t see the chip on the side from when you dropped the bowl a few years ago.

Tapping your foot against the plush carpet beneath your feet, you travel between worlds where you feel ridiculous for dressing up like this, but you also feel hot.

Denim cuts at your waist, and you begin to doubt wearing jeans instead of pajamas. You never wore jeans after you got home. Eddie will surely know what’s up.

You have no time to change your mind because the doorbell rings through the quiet house. Stillness - as if moving would threaten your life somehow. Then, again, the doorbell sings.

You drag the sweat from your hands onto the back of your jeans. Jeans that you should have changed to shorts. He’ll see right through your ruse!

You settle your nerves with one more glance over in the mirror in your little entryway. When you open the front door, Eddie’s tickling the lavender your mom set out on the front porch last week.

“What? Your shirt go through a lawnmower?” Was the first thing he says.

You knew it.

“Erm-,”

“I brought the movie, and beer,” he held up the movie and a six pack he snaked off of his uncle. “Come on, I’m freezing out here.”

Eddie doesn’t ask where anything is. He’s been here so many times before, birthdays, holidays and any time your mother has just come back from the supermarket with “the good snacks.”

You knew each other for some time, which is probably why he’s never going to see you as someone other than his best friend. Why would you think about that? You had a shot, right?

“I popped popcorn,” you pointed in the living room.

“Sick,” he drops down into your couch. “We can go ahead and start the movie - the guys will be here soon.”

“The guys?” You blurt.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie says. “Like old times?”

“Right,” the light in your eye fades, and you just hope Eddie can’t sense the hesitance in your tone.

In the next hour, your quiet date night that had been set up by your overly optimistic friend, swirls in the direction that it is always meant to be. You squish into the couch arm rest, while Gareth battles Eddie over the movie choice. Although, this time the boys came to an agreement that this was not an action movie like Robin promised Eddie earlier.

“Where’s the gore?!” Gareth flings popcorn at the television screen. “Throw her off the ledge!”

“You want to see an innocent woman flung to her death?” You snap at him.

A piece of popcorn drops from Gareth’s mouth, and into his awaiting lap. You didn’t come to raising your tone with the boys unless something truly bothers you. Clearly, by the tightness in your chest, some of the anger spills over the edge. Quite like the woman dangling the man’s waist.

“Never mind,” you stand. “I’m going to make more popcorn.”

Taking the bowl from Eddie, you stow away in the comfort of your kitchen. Before your mother left for her trip, a folded note stacked on the island told you to not bring anyone over. But, if you are going to have boys over, she asks that you use protection. She has a wild imagination if she thinks her daughter has a sex life.

She must have passed this onto you. You toss yourself at someone, who obviously holds no similar feelings as you do. This whole night was a bust. Your eyes itch from the mascara. Your lips bled from when you chewed on them like they’re your last meal. At least the color matches with your lip gloss that you reapplied many times in the bathroom when you need a break from the crowd in your living room. And, you can’t feel your waist anymore. Tingling below the belt - and for all the wrong reasons.

“You okay?” Gareth’s voice startles you.

You spin around, and he’s there standing where the carpet meets the linoleum.

A yell from the living room suggests something mortifying must have happened in the film like the boy finally kissing the girl, or perhaps saying something romantic.

“Yeah,” you blink. “Just- making more popcorn.”

Gareth doesn’t say anything about the popcorn bags sitting on the counter next to him, but the room reads itself. You scamper over to the bag, before ripping the plastic and the bag apart by accident sending kernels across the floor. Gareth meets you at the floor below.

“Shit,” you sniff. “I’ll get the broom.”

“Hey,” he grabs your arm, before you can run off again. “What’s going on?”

You sit next to the mess on the floor letting out a gust of air from your lungs that you’ve been holding onto for dear life.

“It’s stupid,” you tell him.

Gareth moves a piece of your hair from in front of your face. “What?”

You look at him for the first time. Between you two, you didn’t have to say a word he didn’t already know. Because while you’re chasing Eddie, Gareth’s warm heart is following after you. You’re blind to him before.

“Eddie’s not going to like me back, is he?” You whisper at an almost inaudible volume. Dabbing at your eye, you wipe the single tear threatening to break the damn.

Gareth sits next to you with his arms wrapped around his knees.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I think he just hasn’t woken up yet. He does talk about you a lot when your not around.”

“Really?”

“You scare him,” Gareth lets out a breathy laugh. “In a good way. He- he’s never had someone to rely on in his life besides his uncle. And, if what Eddie says is true, you’ll never truly change to please anyone. You’re loyal, and your funny. You’re beyond beautiful. The Goddesses shrivel in your light-.”

Your cheeks heat up.

“Okay, I might have added that last part,” he admits. “But, you never know if you don’t try.”

You reach out for his hand. “Thank you, Gareth.”

He squeezes your hand. “Anytime.”

You say. “And I- I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Erm- you know.”

“I guess I do,” he looks away. “I’ll be fine.”

You toss a popcorn kernel Gareth’s direction hoping to lighten the mood. Gareth snorts and tosses one back.

“We should clean up,” you tell him.

Gareth agrees. “Oh, and - when I said you don’t change, I meant it.”

You pull at your half shirt. “Yeah, I don’t think this is me. Everyone just kept telling me to stop dressing like a boy.”

“Trust me,” Gareth suggests. “You do not look like a boy.”

“Oh, shut up,” you gather yourself on your own two feet. “I don’t know - I kind of like the look, but maybe tone it down a bit?”

“I’ll get the broom,” Gareth says leaving your question unanswered. "Oh, and I promise to keep myself and the guys out of your way the next time Eddie suggests we all have a 'movie night'" at your house."

"You caught onto that?"

"It's a classic move," he sweeps. "I can't say I wasn't going to try it on you some day."

"Well, I'm sorry that it won’t work out between us," you assure him.

"I'll survive," he won’t really look at you now, only at the task at hand. "Besides, I know how great of a guy Eddie is. If you do go out with him, there’s no hard feelings."

Gareth sweeps every last kernel from the floor, then uses the dust pan to scoop them up and finally tosses them into the bin. By the time he's done scoping out every inch of your floor, you're done popping a new bag of popcorn.

The movie night continues without a hitch (aside from the merciless damning of the film coming from each of the boys in your home). Your eye on the one man, who could never look at you the way you do him. But, you don't know that for sure.

Because, as soon as you look away, Eddie's full attention is on you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson preference #angst

2K notes · View notes

midnightbluebells03 · 28 days

Note

you should totally do reader x abby where she accidentally mentions marrying reader when using her strap on her.

SPUR OF THE MOMENT

CW - SMUT minors dni!, strap on (R! Receiving), reader is called good girl, talks of marriage (obvs), hair pulling, strap is called a dick once

Readers appearance isn't described (atleast I don't think it is), no use of y/n

About 800 wc

No outbreak

Send me request so I can try and get out my writing funk pls and thx

You can't even remember how long it's been since you two started. Abby came home a couple of hours ago, but since then, you've barely separated. What started as 'innocent' kisses while you made dinner had turned into this. Your face shoved into the softness of Abby's pillow, your legs starting to tremble, and hickies sprawled across your skin. As your girlfriend was positioned behind you with one hand pressed onto your lower back, her strap moving relentlessly in and out of your dripping hole. Dirty blonde hair sticking to her forehead as her sweat pools on her defined muscles. She always said fucking you was her favourite workout. And she meant it.

Abby's hips move at a steady pace, just enough to turn you into a mess but not enough to finish you off. It's purposeful, like all her moments. She just wanted to look at you a little longer, the way your back arched, and you desperately tried to back into her. Stopped by her grasp so all you could do was take what she gave you.

Her free hand comes to grip your hair, giving it a light tug and pulling your head back. Forcing a loud moan that had been sitting in your throat out as her lips ghosted against the shell of your ear. "Such a good fucking girl for me hmm?" Abby coos only getting a whimper from you in response, her grip tightens as she starts to fuck into you deeper, faster. Hitting just the right spot while you moan so loud you're worried about the neighbours hearing.

But as soon she she starts talking you forget all about it.

"I'm gonna make you my wife one day." it's more like she's talking to herself, mumbling in that deep voice she gets when she's claiming you. When her brain goes blank and all she can focus on is the sounds you make. The noise of your wet pussy as her strap continues to make you see stars. If she was any further away you might not have caught it. But the idea alone makes your face heat up and a whine escape your lips. "So fucking perfect for me, need you to be mine". You hadn't really talked about marriage, in all honesty you were afraid Abby wasn't into the concept at all. But her babbling in your ear is definitely clearing it up. "Just mine forever".

That's what sends you over the edge. "Abby!" You clentch hard around the strap, your orgasm rushing over you as Abby keeps talking you through it.

"There you go" she drops your hair as her hands move to rest on both sides of your waist. Pulling you backwards into her as you try but fail to muffle yourself with the pillow below. "Good girl, good fucking girl cum all over my dick".

Her movements slow once you finish, you let out a soft whimper as she pulls out. Leaving you clenching around nothing before turning onto your back. Your forearm comes over your eyes as you listen to Abby move around the room. The sounds of her cleaning and putting away the strap before she heads to your onsuite to grab a towel with warm water are what you've become accustomed to. So when a strong hand taps your leg, you don't even have to look. Just spread them slowly as Abby cleans you up. Peppering soft kisses along your inner thighs as she whispers softly.

"You did so good baby" once she's finished she throws the towel into the bathroom sink, deciding to deal with it later. "Just perfect"

Abby slumps down beside you, breathing heavily still while staring up at the ceiling. Slowly your brain catches up with what she said, you sit up quickly startling her slightly.

"What?" She asks confused, her hand now resting on your lower back. Rubbing small circles with her thumb.

You blink hard, looking down at her. Taking in everything, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath. The way her hair is now wavy from being taken out the braid you had ruined. The way she looks at you with such a soft eyes. It makes you melt.

"You wanna marry me?" You ask softly, almost afraid to say it in case she didn't really mean it.

Abby's face turns red. She doesn't break the eye contact between you two as she nods timidly. "Oh um...yeah yeah I do" clearly your shocked expression was making her nervous because she gets this worried look on her face. Eyebrows knitted slightly. "Do you-"

"Abs" you say with a sweet tone. Watching has her expression softens before repositioning yourself to lay on her chest "Mrs Anderson, the Andersons"

"The Andersons" she repeats, pulling you closer and placing a kiss to your head.

#lesbian #wlw #fanfic #smut #writer #writing #tlou #request #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x female reader #the last of us

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valkyriexo · 6 days

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You Faint | Bang Chan

ᑉ³pairing; Bang Chan x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Sickfic, Comfort, Fluff,

ᑉ³warnings; Fainting due to Dehydration and being busy, mentions of not eating, mentions of not drinking water, kissing, Implied Female reader, Established relationship

ᑉ³Authors Note; Other members coming soon!

In the flurry of your responsibilities as a personal assistant to the CEO of a massive corporation, every second counts, every task critical to the smooth functioning of the business. Despite the hunger gnawing at your stomach and the parched feeling in your throat, you soldier on, driven by the need to ensure that everything operates seamlessly for your employer.

Hours blur together as you navigate the demands of the corporate world, your own needs pushed to the sidelines in the relentless pursuit of success. The weight of expectations presses down on you with each passing moment, propelling you forward even as exhaustion threatens to overwhelm you. You don't have time to notice the way your limbs grow heavy with fatigue, the world around you fading into a distant blur as you push yourself beyond your limits.

But as the day wears on, your body begins to rebel against the neglect it's been subjected to. Dizziness clouds your vision, a warning sign of the toll the day's exertions have taken. With every step, your limbs grow heavier, protesting against the punishing pace you've been maintaining.

And then, without warning, it all becomes too much. Your vision blurs, black spots dancing at the edges as dizziness overwhelms your senses. Your knees buckle beneath you, unable to support the weight of your weakened body, and before you can even comprehend what's happening, darkness claims you.

As consciousness slowly seeps back into your awareness, you find yourself nestled on the plush couch of the CEO's office, the soft hum of the air conditioner the only sound in the room. Your head throbs with the remnants of your fainting spell, a dull ache echoing through your skull.

Blinking groggily, you glance around the room, your eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. To your surprise, you find yourself surrounded by two or three other assistants, their faces etched with concern as they hover nearby, murmuring amongst themselves.

"Hey, are you okay?" one of them asks, her voice laced with worry as she kneels beside you, her hand hovering over your forehead. "You gave us quite a scare there."

You nod weakly, the events of the day slowly coming back to you in fragmented pieces. "I... I think so," you mumble, your words slurred with exhaustion.

The other assistants exchange worried glances, their concern palpable in the air. "You should rest for a bit," another assistant suggests, her tone gentle as she helps you sit up, offering you a glass of water.

Taking a sip, you feel the cool liquid soothe your parched throat, the sensation a welcome relief. As you lean back against the cushions, you're grateful for the support of your colleagues, their presence a comforting reminder that you're not alone in your struggles.

"Thanks," you murmur, offering them a weak smile. "I appreciate it."

"We were so worried about you," one of them says, her voice filled with genuine concern. "You gave us quite the scare."

You offer a weak smile, still feeling disoriented and unsure of what happened. "I'm sorry," you mumble, your words barely audible.

Another assistant nods sympathetically. "We called for help," she explains gently. "We wanted to make sure you were okay."

You furrow your brow, confusion clouding your thoughts. "Called for help." you repeat, the words sinking in slowly.

Your mind feels foggy, memories hazy and fragmented, making it difficult to grasp the severity of the situation. The concern in the assistant's eyes only adds to your growing sense of unease, prompting a knot of anxiety to tighten in your chest.

Before anyone can elaborate further, the door to the CEO's office swings open, and Chan rushes in, his expression a mix of panic and relief. "I got here as fast as I could," he says breathlessly, his eyes darting around the room until they land on you. "Are you okay? What happened?"

You swallow hard, the reality of the situation hitting you like a ton of bricks. They called Chan, your emergency contact, before they even called the paramedics. You feel a pang of guilt knowing that he's here now, worrying about you, when you hadn't wanted to burden him.

As Chan rushes to your side, his expression a mix of relief and concern, you can see the worry etched into every line of his face. His hands tremble slightly as he reaches out to grasp yours, his touch both reassuring and desperate.

"I... I don't know," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I fainted, I think."

Chan's eyes widen with alarm, his grip on your hand tightening. "You fainted?" he repeats, his voice tinged with disbelief. Chan's concern deepens, his brows furrowing with worry. "Do you know why?" he asks gently. "Did you eat today? Drink enough water?"

You shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny, the guilt of neglecting your own well-being weighing heavily on you. "I... I may have forgotten," you admit sheepishly, avoiding his gaze.

His expression softens with understanding, but a flicker of frustration dances in his eyes. "Y/N.."

"I just didn't have time," you whine, feeling the weight of his disappointment settle over you. "I have deadlines to meet, and it's been really busy here with the CEO prepping for a major partnership with another company. Plus, I'm in line for a promotion, Chan. If I do well, it's almost guaranteed. But if I fail, then I have no shot."

Chan's expression doesn’t give much away, but his resolve remains firm. "It's not that important," he insists, his tone gentle but firm. "There will always be other opportunities. Your health should come first."

You shake your head, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Not everyone can lead and be super talented like you, Chan," you argue, your voice tinged with emotion. "Some of us have to work twice as hard just to keep up."

"I know it feels that way," he says gently, as he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch warm and comforting. "You're already doing more than enough," he assures you, his gaze unwavering. "But your health should never be sacrificed for success."

You sigh, feeling the weight of his words settling over you. "I know," you whisper, your voice heavy with resignation.

Chan's hums at your response, his hand lingering on your cheek for a moment longer before he reluctantly withdraws. "Let's go home," he says gently, " You need rest."

With a heavy heart, you rise from the couch, your legs trembling beneath you as the full extent of your exhaustion becomes apparent. Chan's eyes widen in concern as he notices your struggle, his expression softening with empathy.

"Here, let me help you," he says, moving to your side and slipping an arm around your waist for support.

You lean into him gratefully, feeling the warmth of his embrace. With Chan's steadying presence, you manage to make your way out of the CEO's office and towards the elevator, your fatigue pressing down on you with each step.

As you reach the lobby, Chan guides you towards the exit, but when you attempt to take a step forward, your legs buckle beneath you, weakened by fatigue. Chan's eyes widen in alarm, his arms wrapping around you protectively as he catches you before you fall.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.

You nod weakly, feeling embarrassed by your inability to stand on your own two feet. "I'm just... really tired," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Without hesitation, Chan sweeps you up into his arms, his strength a reassuring presence against your exhausted frame. "Let's get you home," he says softly, his voice filled with tenderness.

You nestle into his embrace, feeling safe and secure in his arms as he carries you out of the building and towards the waiting car.

Once you're settled into the car, Chan drives you home with careful attention, his concern never wavering as he steals glances at you from time to time. When you finally arrive at your apartment, he helps you out of the car and guides you inside, his arm wrapped protectively around you.

As you enter the cozy sanctuary of your home, Chan guides you towards the couch. However, he senses your hesitation, the way you lean heavily on him as if struggling to keep your balance.

"You need to rest," he insists softly, his voice laced with concern as he helps you settle onto the cushions. Despite his gentle urging, you remain silent, the weariness evident in every line of your body.

"I feel gross," you finally murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, admitting to the discomfort that weighs heavily on you.

Chan's brows furrow with worry, his gaze searching your face for any sign of discomfort or pain. Seeing your distress, he nods in understanding.

"Would you like to take a shower?" he suggests gently, his tone filled with empathy. He waits patiently for your response, ready to provide the support and comfort you need

You shake your head slowly, a feeling of exhaustion washing over you. "I don't think I have the energy," you confess, feeling a pang of guilt at the admission.

Chan's expression fills with empathy as he steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently squeeze yours. "That's okay," he reassures you, his voice soft and comforting. "Why don't we start with something smaller? Like washing your hair?"

You blink back tears, starting to feel overwhelmed. "I just... I feel so drained," you admit, your voice trembling with emotion.

Chan nods sympathetically, his gaze filled with compassion. "I understand," he says softly, his words a soothing balm to your weary soul. "Let's take it one step at a time, okay?

As Chan helps you make your way to the bathroom, you feel the weight of exhaustion pulling at your limbs. With his steady support, you settle on the edge of the bathtub, feeling drained and weak. Chan kneels beside you, his gentle hands reaching for the shower head. His concerned gaze meeting yours.

"Lean back," he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet bathroom. You obey, allowing your head to rest against the edge of the tub as Chan pours the water over your hair, the liquid cascading down in a comforting stream.

The sensation of the warm water against your scalp is both soothing and revitalizing, washing away the weariness that has settled deep within your bones. Chan's touch is tender, his fingers massaging your scalp with care as he works shampoo into your hair, creating a rich lather that fills the air with a subtle scent of eucalyptus.

As Chan tenderly tends to your needs, a wave of helplessness crashes over you, leaving you feeling small and useless. The inability to perform even the simplest tasks on your own gnaws at you, a constant reminder of your vulnerability. You watch as Chan effortlessly takes care of everything, his competence highlighting your own shortcomings.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you struggle to suppress the rising tide of frustration and self-doubt. "I hate feeling like this," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, tinged with the bitterness of inadequacy.

"Like what?" Chan's voice is gentle, his concern evident as he seeks to understand you.

"Helpless," you confess, the word heavy with emotion.

Chan notices the heaviness in your sigh and the sorrow in your eyes, and his heart aches with empathy. Leaning closer, he places a soft kiss on your lips.

"You're not helpless, love," he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with affection. "You're just taking a break. Everyone needs a little help sometimes, even superheroes like you."

His words are like a warm embrace, wrapping around you with love and understanding.

"You're my baby," he whispers, "And I'll always be here to take care of you, no matter what."

As Chan rinses the shampoo from your hair, the water running clear and pure, you feel a sense of renewal wash over you. With each gentle stroke of his hands, you can feel your energy slowly returning, a flicker of hope igniting within your chest.

When the task is finally complete, Chan reaches for a fluffy towel, wrapping it around your shoulders with care. He helps you to stand, guiding you away from the bathtub.

"Let's dry your hair a bit so you don't go to bed with it wet," he suggests, his lips forming a shy smile. He grabs a hairdryer, carefully adjusting the settings before starting to blow dry your hair, the warm air a comforting embrace against your skin.

As he works, you feel a sense of peace settle over you, the sound of the hairdryer a soothing backdrop to the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Chan concentrates intently, his brow furrowing as he focuses on the task at hand. His brow furrows in concentration, his lips pursed in determination as he attempts to weave the strands of your hair into a braid. With each failed attempt, a mixture of frustration and amusement flickers across his features, his cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment.

You can't help but find his earnest efforts endearing, and a soft chuckle escapes your lips as you watch him work. The sound fills the small bathroom, mingling with the gentle patter of water droplets.

"Where did you learn to braid?" you ask, genuine curiosity in your tone.

Chan looks up at you, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "I've been teaching myself," he admits, his fingers still fumbling with the strands of your hair. "I thought... one day, when we have kids together, I want to be able to braid their hair. I want to be the kind of dad who can do that."

His vulnerability touches your heart, and you reach out to gently squeeze his hand, a tender smile playing on your lips. "You'll be an amazing dad," you assure him, your voice filled with love and admiration. "And you're already an amazing partner."

"I want to be better,"he says softly, his voice tinged with sincerity. "For you."

He leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His lips are soft against yours. As he pulls away, his eyes shimmering with adoration, he presses another tender kiss to your forehead before returning to his task.

"You did great," Chan whispers, his voice filled with pride and admiration, as he guides you to your bedroom. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm, comforting light across the room as he fusses over you, fluffing pillows and tucking blankets around you until you're cocooned in warmth.

With gentle hands, he arranges the pillows behind you, ensuring you're propped up just right for maximum comfort. He tucks the blankets snugly around your shoulders, his touch tender and reassuring as he ensures every corner is tucked in securely.

After making sure you're settled, Chan disappears into the kitchen, the faint clinking of dishes drifting through the air as he prepares your meal. Moments later, he returns with a tray laden with food – a simple yet nourishing meal, prepared with love.

The aroma of home-cooked food fills the room, mingling with the soft scent of freshly laundered sheets. Chan sets the tray down on your bedside table, arranging the dishes with care before settling in beside you.

As you eat, Chan sits close by, his warmth radiating beside you. He regales you with stories and jokes, his laughter filling the room with a sense of joy and ease. Each tale is punctuated by his infectious laughter, and despite your weariness, you can't help but smile at his antics.

As you finish your meal, feeling the warmth of the food spreading through your body, Chan rises from his seat beside you, his movements fluid and graceful as he clears away the dishes. The clinking of plates and silverware fills the air as he tidies up, his attention to detail evident in every gesture.

Once the dishes are cleared, Chan returns to your side, settling in beside you on the bed. He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle embrace. The familiar scent of his cologne envelops you, soothing away the remnants of tension that linger in your muscles.

With a contented sigh, you snuggle closer to him, reveling in the warmth and security of his embrace. Chan presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his touch a silent reassurance that everything will be okay.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he murmurs, his voice low and raw. As he speaks, he guides your hand to his chest, letting you feel the rapid thud of his heart beneath his shirt.

"Every time you're in pain or in danger," he continues, his voice barely above a whisper, "it's like my whole world stops."

You feel a lump form in your throat, a rush of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. "I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. "It wasn't on purpose."

Chan shakes his head, his grip tightening around you as if afraid to let go. "I know," he says softly. "But I need you to promise me something."

"What?" you ask.

"Promise me that you'll always try your best to care of yourself," he says, his tone earnest. "Promise me that you won't push yourself too hard, that you'll listen to your body and prioritize your health."

You meet his gaze, seeing the depth of his concern reflected in his eyes. With a nod, you offer him a small smile, filled with gratitude and determination.

"I promise," you vow, your voice steady with conviction.

Chan's eyes soften, a tender smile playing on his lips. "And I promise in return," he says softly, "to always be there when you need me, or a little extra help."

He settles back against the pillows, pulling you with him until you're both comfortable. As you nestle into each other, Chan reaches for the remote control, flicking through the channels until he finds a movie that catches your interest.

The soft glow of the TV bathes the room in a warm, flickering light as the movie begins to play. You rest your head against Chan's chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat getting faster beneath your ear. It's a comforting sound, a reminder of the love and stability that he brings into your life.

As the movie unfolds, you lose yourself in the story, the worries and stresses of the day fading into the background. With Chan by your side, you feel safe and at peace, cocooned in a bubble of love and warmth.

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ashtavula · 3 months

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Hihihi! Could I please request a royalty/nobility au with the housewardens? Like them as a dashing Mr. Darcy, if that makes sense.

So, since this is pretty open ended, I'm just going with headcanons on what sort of role they'd have in this au. Though it might be more like an otome au? But if you like it, or want to see more, please don't hesitate to ask!

Royalty AU - The Housewardens

You are the only heir to the throne, and now, you've been given a "simple" task. Find someone to marry before the year is over! Your butler clears his throat, and names some of your potential suitors...

Riddle - The Marquess' Son

-Riddle is the sole child of Marquess and Marchioness Rosehearts. His family is well known for funding medical research, and they're generally well respected. At least, publicly. In private, many nobles whisper about the cruelty of Marchioness Rosehearts, and Riddle's overbearing strictness. Your butler also states that, when your parents announced your eligibility for marriage, she was the very first to put her son's name forward. It makes you think that Riddle had no say in being a candidate.

-Riddle himself is rumored to be at odds with his family, considering his friendship with the local baker, Trey Clover, and other commoners. His mother has publicly denounced the idea that her family mingles with the lower classes, but Riddle continues to be spotted around the bakery regardless. It makes you wonder if he's not quite as strict as the rumors claim...

Leona - The Second Prince

-Leona is the second born prince of a neighboring country. His brother, King Falena, has maintained his country's status quo, but it's becoming rather obvious that Leona doesn't approve of his family's excessive lifestyle while their kingdom's poorest starve. Supposedly, Falena is growing increasingly desperate to marry Leona off to a foreigner so he can be removed from Sunset Savannah's political sphere. Leona's own people talk about him being a lazy, power hungry rebel, and this gives you pause. You haven't heard a single positive thing yet. There must be more to the man than this...

-Your butler goes on to mention that this is merely what your country's spies have found out. According to official correspondence, Leona is a laid back man with a handsome appearance, and a sharp intellect. The sheer difference in those descriptions startles you, and makes you wonder. Who exactly is Prince Leona?

Azul - The Information Broker

-Azul Ashengrotto is the head of the country's biggest information guild. Hiring his Octavinelle Agency is the best way to dig up dirt on anybody, and no one knows just how he acquires that much intelligence. Your parents have listed him as a potential candidate in the hopes that, should you marry him, he would give you access to the wealth of information he has at his fingertips. According to rumors, you must give him something of equal exchange for anything he tells you. You frown as you hear about people selling things like their voices, and their magic to him. He can't be that cruel. Right?

-According to people who have made deals with him, he has a taste for the finer things in life. He'd certainly jump at the opportunity to court you, as you are the heir to the throne. Before your butler can finish, a strange man enters the room. His mismatched eyes gleam as he hands you a letter, stamped with the Octavinelle Agency insignia. The letter is simple, but it sends a chill up your spine. "Your Highness, if you are considering marriage, then please come by my agency. I can tell you anything you wish to know about your suitors, and I'll even waive my usual fees. The only thing I ask in return is for your company. Signed, Azul Ashengrotto." Before you can question the man, he slips out of the parlor. How peculiar...

Kalim - The Merchant Prince

-Your butler clears his throat, and moves on. Next on the list is Kalim Al-Asim, heir to the Al-Asim Trade Company. Merchants under their banner travel far and wide, bringing wondrous things that many people have never seen before. In his country, rich merchants practically become royalty, and Kalim's family is the wealthiest of those families. If you choose him, it will invigorate your country's economy, and your parents approve of this. Also, according to the people who have seen him, he's cheerful and compassionate.

-However, your butler warns that his family has a dark side. In the Scalding Sands, poison is the weapon of choice, and Kalim's life has likely been threatened numerous times. And that his own siblings and cousins are likely his biggest enemies. If you married him, you'd be subjected to the same treatment. You'd constantly have to watch your back, and worry that every sip of wine would be your last. Is that truly a life you wish to lead?

Vil - The Duke

-Vil Schoenheit is the youngest Duke to grace your country's nobility. He's also the fairest. Countless numbers of men and women fawn over his beauty, yet he has rejected every advance that has come his way. This had led to nasty rumors that he has impossible standards, and that his heart must be made of ice. He apparently also has a keen mind, though there are some whispers that he uses that intellect to brew deadly poisons. Who those poisons are meant for, nobody knows.

-His dukedom also contains some of your country's most beautiful locations. Lush forests and thriving apple orchards span his lands, and his people prosper under his rule. However, people do wonder why all of his citizens seem to be good looking, and why nobody seems to oppose him. Is it just a coincidence, or is there a darker reason behind his seemingly perfect dukedom?

Idia - The Inventor

-Idia Shroud is, without a doubt, one of the smartest men in your kingdom. However, his reputation, and several rumors, precede him. He's known for being extremely reclusive, and he's almost never been seen in public. Instead, he trusts an automaton, Ortho, to complete various tasks. And the few times he has been spotted sparked a frenzy of strange rumors. There's talk around the capital that he's been cursed, marked by unholy fire. Your brows furrow. Is he truly one of the candidates for your hand in marriage?

-Aside from the rumors that swirl around him, he's genuinely skilled. Ortho is a completely sentient automaton, and several of his other inventions have changed the average citizen's quality of life for the better. He's the reason your kingdom is more advanced than any other, and that counts for a lot. He's a bit bizarre, but rumors about his supposed "curse" stirs your curiosity.

Malleus - The Briar King

-Your butler shivers, and mentions King Malleus in a hushed tone. He is the King of Briar Valley, a strange land that nobody has ever actually seen. There are old tales about his kingdom. Stories that state that the land is populated by the fae, and that their king is not truly a fae, but a fearsome dragon. These tales claim that any being who opposes the Briar King will be incinerated in a plume of dragon fire, and that he demands complete loyalty from his subjects. As you begin to wonder why your parents would give you such an option, you get your answer. For the first time, Malleus has left his kingdom, and is visiting yours. This might be your kingdom's only chance to forge an alliance with the powerful, mysterious fae.

-There is a bit more information than just wild tales. According to your butler, an odd fae visited the castle yesterday, and told your parents a bit more about Malleus. This fae stated that his king was not quite as intimidating as the stories claim, and that Malleus yearned for companionship more than anything else. Your gaze softened. You, as the heir to a kingdom, knew that a royal life could be a lonely one. If he also felt the ache of solitude, then, he surely couldn't be a monster, like the people say.

Now that you've heard about your potential suitors, only one question remains...

Who will you choose?

#royalty au #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #kalim al asim #kalim x reader #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #idia shroud #idia x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #twisted wonderland #twst reader insert #twst x reader

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 2 months

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hey so i finally wrote more witch au!

enjoy, friends!! though it's significantly shorter than the first part

pairing: steddie | word count: 2,004 | rated: T

Mama thinks that Steve’s had a love spell on him this whole time.

“Since when?” He’d asked.

“I don’t know, my dear, maybe since before you were even born.”

“What?! How?! I thought you said there was no such thing as love spells!” He knows that’s not true.

“There are none that are worth the pain.” she repeats, trying to placate him.

“Yeah, well.” Steve huffs, dropping his hands to his hips and heaving a sigh.

“But there are some that are rumored to be true love spells, soulmate spells.” She continues on when she sees the look on his face. “Rumored, Steven, only ever rumors.”

“Okay, so what do the rumors have to say about them?”

“Every spell like that I’ve ever heard of of this nature is specific to each caster.”

“So I’ve had this spell on me for possibly my whole life, and there’s no way to know anything about it or about the caster.”

“...I’m sorry, honey.”

“Maybe there are clues in the words you have.” Robin cuts in, reaching for the notepad and sliding it in front of her.

Steve huffs, “I need to know the whole thing; there’s definitely words missing.”

“Should you eat more bread?” Robin asks, already sliding the previously abandoned plate of bread towards him.

“You shouldn’t overwhelm yourself.” Mama says, pushing the plate back. “We don’t know if there’s a trigger to the spell, or if you and the caster’s paths will just cross one day, maybe they don’t even know they cast it.”

Steve blinks at her. “So I have a true love and they might not even want me?”

“No!” Robin belts out immediately.

“No, of course not,” Mama says, continuing on. “The one known thing about any spell like this is that they only work on those who are receptive to it.”

“So some weirdo can’t put you under their spell?”

“Yes, exactly Robin; Steve, whatever this is, whoever this was, they love you with all that they are. And you them.”

“I don’t even know who it is! How can I?”

Mama doesn’t have an answer besides saying “Your soul must know them already.”; Their conversation was over soon after that.

Steve spends the next couple days silent and brooding. He can’t stop thinking about how he’s what, marked to love someone he doesn’t even know? How’s that fair?

It could be any random person on the street that thought he was hot, some weird old guy or a lovesick middle schooler..He only just turned 25 the day before the bread incident, but he’s saddled with this huge unknown that isn’t going to get better any time soon?

Okay, apparently not just some weirdo according to Mama, but still. Un-fucking fair all the same.

He’s also pissed that he can’t give anyone all the baked goods he’s made within that time. Each and every one of them ending up with a sour aftertaste.

“Damn witch bullshit…” he grumbles to himself, only half serious, as he scrapes another batch of sour sugar cookies into the trash.

He’s salty, okay? Pun intended. If he hadn’t ever learned the truth about the powers over food his grandmother (and now him too, apparently) has, he could’ve just excused the batch after batch being off on bad butter, or old flour.. Something other than his mood being what’s ruining his cookies.

That’s what he’d done every other time something he’s made tasted off, now he knows it was him the whole time.

Mama comes in then, he doesn’t have to look up to know the look she’s giving him.

Steve leaves the bowl of leftover dough on the counter, mumbles out a “I gotta go.”, then tromps out the back door and into the woods behind his grandparents’ home.

He supposes it’s good that they live just outside the city, really, having the trees to escape under like this has helped him before, and he’s hoping will help him now.

Meandering through the underbrush, he strolls along until he reaches the small clearing he’d claimed for himself when he was what, 8? 9? Doesn’t matter. It’s his spot to get away from anything he needs to.

He sits down against the big oak at the edge of the clearing and tips his head back toward the sun filtering down on him through a gap in the canopy above him. He breathes in the fresh air, focuses on the warmth hitting his face, and just exists there for a while, slipping in and out of a soft snooze.

Suddenly, he’s shocked out of his dozing by the sound of twigs snapping underfoot.

If it were coming from behind him, he’d expect it’d be Robin coming to find him here, but it’s not. It’s coming from ahead of him across the clearing.

Steve stands and presses back into the trunk of the tree, wondering if there’s bears in these woods when a person stumbles through the tree line.

The man is thin, about Steve’s age if he were to guess, and covered in dirt, his light wash overalls and his boots are caked in it. His hair is long, pulled half-back away from his face and full of bracken from the forest.

He also seems to be in a daze, staring with dark eyes at Steve with an unfathomable expression.

It shifts soon after, though, warming into a watery smile. “I’ve come home to you.” he says, clear as day, then collapses onto the grass.

“Oh, shit!” Steve rushes forward, kneeling down beside the man and quickly checking him over for injuries.

Steve presses his fingers to the man's pulse confirm it's still there (it is) and there don’t seem to be any bruises or breaks in his limbs, so he goes to his head, feeling quickly under the tangles in his hair for any blood, any knots.

Nothing. There’s nothing apparently outwardly wrong with him.

“Hey, hey, wake up! You gotta stay with me, man.” he says, shaking him lightly.

The other man’s head lolls to the side and his eyes open a crack, his lips quirking up into a smile. “M’love…”

“What is your name?” Steve insists in a slow, clear voice.

Instead of answering, the man raises his hand slowly to cup Steve’s cheek. “...v’wait’d so long..” he slurs, then goes limp again, his hand dropping to his chest.

“Oh no you don’t,” Steve gets his feet under him and gathers the man up into his arms in a bridal carry. His steps falter when he feels how light the man is in his arms, how much more thin he is than how he’d looked.

Steve adjusts his hold on him, making sure not to let his head hang backward over his forearm, and rushes back toward the house.

“Mama!” he shouts as soon as he clears the treeline into the yard.

She’s at the back sliding door as soon as he is. “Steve, honey, what—”

He pushes past her, hurrying to the spare room on the first floor with her on his heels. “I found him wandering the woods, I couldn’t just–I don’t know what’s wrong with him, Mama.”

She gestures him forward to the bed, “Put him there, on top the covers,”

He does, setting him down as if he’s made of glass.

As soon as the man is out of his arms, Mama takes his place. “Nothing seems broken, but he’s so light, he needs food, he needs water, should I call 911? I don’t even know his na—” he rambles on, not even realizing he’d started to pace until his grandma stops him in his tracks.

“Steve, listen to me.” she says, pulling at his wrists gently, removing his hands from his hair. “He will be fine. Now, go get a bowl of warm water and a washcloth and come straight back here.”

He nods dazedly, stumbling backward out the doorway and spinning to the kitchen.

Steve slides to a stop on the tile floor in front of the kitchen sink at the same time Robin gets home from her classes that day.

“I have a date!”

Wait, he needs the bowl first. He scrambles to the opposite counter for the large mixing bowl Mama uses for her damn bread and fishes it out with a clatter of everything that that had been in front of it on the shelf tumbling out to the floor.

“Steve?”

Should he put soap in it?

“Steve!”

No, Mama just said ‘warm water’, not ‘warm soapy water’. He nods to himself and turns on the tap, reaching under the sink next for a washcloth.

“Steven Otis Harrington.”

“Oh, hey Robin, you’re home.” The bowl’s almost full.

“Steve.” She spins him to face her, holding tightly to his shoulders.

He tries to twist back around futilely, “The bowl–”

“Steve. What. Is. Happening.”

He blinks at her a couple times. “Robin!” He pulls her to him in a tight hug. “Holy shit, you’re not gonna believe–”

“Steve, the bowl?”

“Shit,” It’s nearly full when he shuts off the tap, so he dumps a bit out and picks it up with both hands, “C’mon, he’s this way.”

“He? Who’s he?”

“Dunno, I found him in the woods.”

“Aw, Steve, you can’t just take in any ol’ stray dog you happen to find out in the wood—-” Robin cuts herself off as they get to the bedroom door. “Ohhkay…so..not a dog.”

“He looks to be dehydrated, but I don’t think he has any injuries.” Mama says in lieu of a greeting when they return. Steve sits down on the opposite edge of the bed that she is, and carefully passes over the bowl of water without looking at her.

The stranger immediately takes in his attention. His soft features, dark brows…Steve starts to pull the bits of brush out of the man’s hair, untangling twigs, leaves, and he can already see one of those pesky prickle things twisted into the hair next to his ear.

Mama sets the bowl on the sidetable, and gets to work immediately, wiping the dirt and grime from the man’s face and arms. “Robin dear, can you grab one of those sports drinks Pa loves so much outta the fridge? And a bottle of water.”

“Of course!” she says, darting back into the kitchen.

“We’ll need to get some food in him too,”

“We should make him scones.” Steve states apropos of nothing. “With chocolate chunks.”

“Maybe after he’s a bit better, sweetie.” Mama scoffs, wringing out the washcloth. “He needs healthy fats first, butter, oatmeal, avocado, things like that.”

“I can do that!” Steve says, jumping up excitedly. His former task forgotten, he rushes out of the bedroom and to the kitchen, nearly bowling Robin over in the process.

He gets to work on simple eggs and toast for their houseguest, avoiding Mama’s lucky bread in favor of his own store-bought stuff for now, he can make him his own later.

As he scrambles the eggs, he focuses everything in him on the stranger, on getting him better, making him healthy again. He’s not exactly quite sure how to do what Mama does, but the sour cookie dough says he’ll do it without thinking about it…kinda.

Whatever.

All he knows is that he’s telling the fuck outta these eggs to make his love better. Make him whole again.. Make him—

Wait..

Did he just refer to the random man laid up in the other room as his love?

Is…

The fugue state he’d been in since first laying eyes on the man crackles away just long enough for him to think.

What did he say before he collapsed? "I've come home to you."?

That..sounds right....why is that so famili—

Steve's eyes leave the pan of eggs in front of him and snap immediately to the scrap of paper he'd scrambled for a few nights ago.

Is he…?

And of course, as if the words weren't already plastered permanently onto his grey matter, there they are, plain as day.

tagging those that were interested on the last part!!! @mugloversonly @kittydeadbones @maybequizas @queenie-ofthe-void @newtstabber @angeldreamsoffanfic @eyesofshinigami @sunflower-trashbaby @perseus-notjackson @kaspurrcat @quinns-shadowy-arts

also, idk if this counts for it, but one of february's songs for @steddiesongfics is work song! which is what this fic is based on! 😊😊

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #witch!eddie #witch!steve #work song #hozier #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #stranger things #st #robin buckley #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve has good grandparents #steveddie #eddeve #witch au #noelle writes

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fillinforlater · 6 months

Text

Phone Part 10: Return of the Angel +3

Male Reader x Kim Minju, Yeh Shuhua, Jung Eunbi (Eunha), Hwang Eunbi (SinB)

Length: 1550 words

Tags: strap-ons, lesbian sex, spitroasting, double penetration, overstimulation, loveless sex, voyeurism, watching, fingering thigh riding

TW: messy crazy bs

(A/N: this series randomly returns because I just needed to get this idea out of my system for good. This might be the conclusion to it, but probably not... well, maybe you send me some ideas to where this could lead up to.)

"I'll get going."

Bomi kisses your cheek, that sore cheek, sore like every patch of your skin, every bone in your body and every damn muscle, some of them you didn't even know could hurt before today. Hell, you don't even have the strength to give Bomi a proper goodbye, a weak wave is all you can muster up.

She'll not be mad at you. For what might have been either 15 or 150 minutes, you have taken turns on her and Shuhua's pussy—licking, fingering, fucking them until those tight caverns each got a big load in them. In the meantime, Minju has been their plaything. Especially Shuhua has this cruelty towards her "friend", edging her with fingers, reddening her thighs with extremely hard slaps and always promising that she'll get your cock—just to claim you with her pussy again.

You turn around when Bomi closes the door. Shuhua and Minju wrestle on the couch, the latter clearly outmatched when Shuhua puts her in a headlock with her thunder thighs. Minju tries to escape with licks on Shuhua's clit but can't find it—the nightmare of so many guys.

"Cut it out, you two," you groan, fingers on your temple.

"N-no," Minju whines. "Minju still needs cock, wants cum in her tummy!"

"I can't." Point at your limp dick, absolutely spent. "And I have a headache. At this point, I’ll start to hate sex. Fucking hell, I'll make myself tea."

"Oh, I have an idea," Shuhua smirks and reaches for her phone while you leave for the kitchen. Whatever it is, you don’t want to deal with it. You need something relaxing, something herbal, to heal all the soreness in your body. It’s incredible to think that there is something like too much sex. You’re really close to giving up on it, even though two nymphomaniacs have turned your house into sex hub.

“No, no, stay down. You’ll get cock soon,” you hear Shuhua belittle Minju, who just whines in her usual tone. She seems to not be a bit tired after all this.

“Well, it won’t be mine,” you shout back, watching the hot water fill your cup and turn the leaves into something magical.

“Yeah, I know, you’re basically useless at this point.” Ouch, that stings. “That’s why I called back up.”

“You what?!”

“They should be here any minute now.”

Shuhua is spot on. Before your tea is finished steeping, your door bursts open. But instead of a hung man, two rather petite women enter your house. Both have a bored look on their face and immediately get to undressing. Overcoats seem to be the shit right now, and no matter who comes through your front door, they always drop it on the floor.

“Uhm, hello?” you carefully greet them before remembering that this is your home, your kingdom! You can’t let strangers just walk in like they own the place. “This is kinda rude, you know?”

“Don’t care,” says the taller one with long, raven hair, dressed only in jeans. “We have business to do. Also, it’s rude to just stand there, naked, while two ladies walk in.” You blush and hide your crotch with the tea cup.

“We aren’t ladies, stop kidding yourself,” the other snarks back, while climbing out of her skirt. “I bet he is a good fuck, you shouldn’t kill your chances already.”

“Eh, I’ll think about it, but first—” Both girls suddenly pull out two strap-ons from God-knows-where and put them on with the casualness one would wear a fricking hat. The taller one hasn’t even removed her jeans, wearing the harness over it, while the other is fully naked and flaunts her butt at you.

“Yeah, I know, we got shit to do.” The short haired girl slaps her butt and you almost drop the cup when she walks past you with a wink. “Shuhua, where is this needy bitch? Or are you the needy bitch?”

“Oh, it’s so nice to see you, Eunbi and Eunbi,” Shuhua greets them and points at Minju, still trapped in between her fat thighs. “Look who I found.”

“She is insatiable. Incredible that he can still stand,” the shorter Eunbi says.

“Hm, maybe he is a good fuck. Anyways, we’ll try our best to keep her down,” the taller Eunbi says. The three conspirators try to agree on a strategy on how to fuck the angelic girl. You’ve become invisible in your own house, your entry to the living room goes largely unnoticed. Except for Minju who pouts at you when the two Eunbis lift her up and put her in a doggy position. The shorter one is below her, the other is ready to press the plastic cock into Minju’s puckered hole.

"Should we do it at the—nevermind, you're already in." The small Eunbi groans in annoyance, the other looks unapologetic and starts to rut slowly against Minju's butt. The long shaft forcing open Minju’s hole, paired with the denim on her sore, pink buttocks, must feel incredible and incredibly painful at the same time. Who knows which of the two makes Minju wail and moan more.

"Come on, Eunha, shove it in her sex," Shuhua urges on the Eunbi below as she excitedly stares at the unholy sight of fake cocks on ready holes. Her eyes mimic the camera lens for a porn shoot, while you're the director, watching the scene play out. Either way, it's good content.

"Minju's pussy, Minju's ass, so full!" Minju is loud, louder than before. Shuhua is having none of it.

"Shut up. SinB, make her stay quiet. And don't let her cum."

Two hands move to cover Minju's mouth, two cocks move in and out at a rapid pace, two sets of eyes watch on in awe. Satisfied with what crazy madness she has come up with, Shuhua sits down next to you and lazily jerks your cock with two fingers. Oh, that victorious smile, glassy, lewd eyes, you'd love to wipe it off her face.

"You like what you see? Now you don't have to do anything anymore."

"What was that about me being useless?" Grab her by the throat and spit in her face. She looks pissed, you love it. "I came in you, even when Minju was willing to do anything to get my load and now you're still cruel to her? Seems mildly unfair."

"And what are you gonna do about it? Fuck her, if you can."

Shuhua is bratty, but just as much as she is bratty, she is also light. You easily place her nude frame on your thigh, her still dripping, creaming heat right on your skin. She hisses and you tighten your grip on her throat.

"I'm going to make you cum—you know I can, it's super easy—but only if you tell those two friends of yours to make Minju cum until she passes out.”

“Fuck, bastard,” Shuhua hisses. With your thumb on her clit, this is easily the quietest and tamest she has been for hours. Her body twitches, an honest reaction to how much she is addicted to the mind-blowing orgasms you can get out of her. Such a small finger, yet she is squirming, contemplating, faltering.

“Those two are so cruel,” you tell Shuhua, nose deep in her greasy hair. “They fuck her so hard, just to pull out at the last moment. Why do you want to torture Minju so bad?”

“Be-because she needs to get to the-the point.”

“What point?”

“The point where sex is no fun. She can go forever. She will never stop, your—fuck—plan to make her p-pass out, useless.”

This explains a lot. The Angel is insatiable, her lust seems infinite, but Shuhua’s plan—won’t it make things worse? At some point, SinB and Eunha will have to stop and Minju will be more desperate than ever. She will wobble through the house, tackle you the second she sees you and will force your cock in her pussy no matter what. A true tragedy.

“Well, I don’t care,” you say and tug at one of Shuhua’s nipples, she bites her fingers. “You’ve been too greedy, time for her to—”

“Fuck, fine.

“SinB, don’t hold back. Eunha, suck her tits, overstimulate this bitch!”

“What?” the two ask in unison and disbelief.

“Do-don’t ask questions, please, just do it!”

The way the two purple plastic cocks move in and out of Minju with the sole goal of too much pleasure has you satisfied and in a new heat, your cock hardening slowly but surely. With an ever increasing rhythm, you move your thigh up and down and Shuhua starts to ride, her loudness increasing again. She is as close as Minju and it only takes SinB pulling those messed up oak strands, you to rub Shuhua’s clit, for them both to explode.

You focus not on Shuhua shuddering, shaking on you, but at Minju’s expression. Her eyes jump wide, then tears shoot out and flow down, just to be blocked by SinB’s hands on her mouth. She’d be so loud, words messier than her hair would fill the room. After this peak, both collapse. Shuhua meets the floor, Minju falls on top of Eunha, who still thrusts, even spanks the Angel’s ass.

You’re hard again. Where is this going to end?

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #izone smut #male reader #male reader smut #minju smut #gidle smut #shuhua smut #gfriend smut #viviz smut #eunha smut #sinb smut

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multi-fandom-simp · 1 year

Text

Forever and always.. or maybe never.

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Hanahaki Disease!AU

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim any of them as my own. This work is purely fictional.

Summary: Some say that you cannot die from a broken heart, but how wrong they are. When your lover and husband, Aemond Targaryen begins to find comfort in another, the universe takes pity on you. Well, if you can count a deadly flower disease as pity.

❗️TW❗️: Profanity, mention and descriptions of blood, descriptions of choking and vomiting, hints to infidelity, mild mature scene, violence, character death, angst

(A/N: Hello, this is my own take on Hanahaki's disease with Aemond! Feel free to comment your thoughts, I am always open to criticism and feedback! I hope you enjoy!)

Word Count: 3.3K

Your love for Aemond hadn’t always been unrequited. At least you’d like to think it wasn’t. Both of you had grown together in the red keep as children. The two of you read together, ate together, and overall grew together. Aemond was your best friend before he was your betrothed. Whenever his mother was busy, it was your side that he clung to. The two of you were so attached at the hip that Alicent even took you to driftmark with them. You and the beast that came with you of course. No one really knows how you stumbled upon a hyena pup, nor how you tamed it to your side as a child. Nevertheless, they never forbid you from having it. If the Targaryens could have their dragons, and the Starks their dire wolves, then certainly you could have the tricky little beast that you insisted on calling Lark. In some ways, Alicent was thankful that you insisted on keeping it. After all, it was your hyena that stood between Aemond and the other children on that fateful night in driftmark. The beast had acted as your legs and ran faster than you could to reach the devastating brawl before you. Despite Aemond’s wails of pain, Lark refused to let the guards come too close. Only when you arrived did she move aside. Regardless of being young, that was the first night you realized your feelings for Aemond Targaryen. The very sight of him bleeding and broken struck you so deeply that you felt as if you had been maimed too. Alicent had noticed the change as well as she watched you stand by her son's side whilst he received stitches. Her dark eyes gazed deeply at how tightly you held Aemond’s hand, as if he would disappear. Aside from her, no one had ever loved her son this passionately, not even his own father.

“Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders” Rhaenyra demanded.

“ Was the blade of your son’s knife not enough sharpness for the night?” All eyes turned to you in surprise. You had never been known to speak out if it did not benefit you. Most of the time you were seen standing to the side, watching while others tore each other apart. Aemond could always see past it, see your true intentions. He knew you were studying how different people fought and where their weak points were. You had been around the red keep long enough to know that Lucerys Velaryon was Rhaenyra’s soft spot, and tonight you planned to use that against her.

“ You should watch your tongue when you speak to me” Rhaenyra warned, her eyes flickering over to her father to see if he would do anything.

“ or what, you’ll have Lucerys cut it out like he did Aemond’s eye” The neutrality on your face was enough to both scare and amaze Aemond.

“ You dar-”

“ Enough! My son has lost an eye and now you insist on arguing with a young girl?” Alicent moved up next to you, a hand on your back in support. She knew how terrifying it was to stand alone in a room full of adults scrutinizing you. That’s how her wedding felt after all. The queen’s hand never wavered through the interrogation of the green children. You held Aemond’s hand and she held you. Until things escalated that was. When the queen rushed towards Rhaenyra you stepped in front of Aemond. Shielding him from the sight of his mother in the midst of such violence. All Aemond could see in the midst of chaos was you, and all you could see was the river of blood on Rhaenyra’s arm. Little did you know how familiar you would be with crimson rivers in due time.

It was shortly after that night when your betrothal to the second son was announced. Alicent assured that it was needed to form an alliance between your family and theirs, when in reality it was a match made to ease the worried queen’s heart. In her eyes, no one else was a better match for Aemond than you, and for the longest time, you believed her. Oh, how foolish you were.

Six years passed with ease for the two of you. The first four were filled with fleeting touches, deep conversations, and young love.

“What is this, my lady, a journal?” Aemond’s voice floated around you as his chin found purchase on your shoulder.

“ And if it is?” You hummed, closing the leather-bound book a bit too quickly.

“ Then I fear I must inspect it. Wouldn’t want my future wife to be keeping secrets from me.” You recognized the playful jest in Aemond’s voice and wasted no time in rushing up from the bench.

“ Not so fast, my love.” Aemond chuckled, ensnaring you from behind.

“ Aemond!” You protested, smacking his locked arms with the leather bound book.

“ Have I ever told you how much I adore it when you fight back?” Aemond snickered, his breath hot on your neck.

“ You pervert!” You feigned offense before looking ahead to your pet, “ Lark, get him girl, c’mon!”

“ You know she won't come. That ole girl loves me as much as she loves you." Aemond smirked, whistling for Lark in the way you taught.

" Traitor." You grumble with a hidden smile as the Hyena trots over to the pair of you casually.

The two of you were married when he was seventeen and you were sixteen. Your union was repeated twice over. Once in front of a sept full of people, and then in the tradition of old valyria. Aemond wanted reassurance that you would never part from him. Your marriage fueled two more years full of what was now mature love.

The edge of your teeth pulled at the pillow of your bottom lip as you stared at the dark oak door. The sound of jeering men swarmed your thoughts and threatened the bile at the back of your throat. You tried to hide your discomfort for Aemonds sake, but he was keen to your reactions by now.

“ Do not fret, my love, I will not let them hear your noises. I would never let them hear what is only meant for me and you.” Aemond spoke lowly, using your hips to turn you towards him and away from the door.

“ They’ll hear regardless.” You muttered bitterly, “They’re sat out there with their ears pressed against the door just wa-”

“ I said they would not hear you and I meant it” Aemond murmured into your ear with a soft kiss to the sensitive skin just beneath it.

“Aem-” You sighed contently.

“That’s it..sȳz riña.”Good girl. Your breathing faltered as the pet name slipped past his lips. He had figured out how much you liked to be praised from your journals.

“ You r-remebered…”You managed to gasp as he trailed down your neck.

“ I remember anything and everything that has to do with you, my love. I always will.” Aemond promised between wet kisses. You shouldn’t have believed him, but you did.

You never would’ve thought that you could fall deeper in love with Aemond Targaryen after that night, but nine months later proved you wrong. The sight of him by your side as you delivered your son set permanent hearts in your eyes. He had not cared for the blood or screams, only you and the babe. The babe who he later named Aemys because it was as close as he could get to amethyst, your favorite color. Every little detail of the things he did revolves around you. That’s what fueled your denial the first time you coughed up blood.

Your eyes stared hard at the bloody petal laying in your palm. Had that come from you? You had read strange tales of those who bled flowers, but you believed it only to be fiction. Surly your blood would not change at the ripe age of ten and nine.

“ The flower that once bloomed love will soon bloom blood. “ Helaena aimlessly mumbled to herself from beside you.

“ What..?”Your heart sped up as you analyzed her words. No one had ever paid any mind to her silly riddles, except for you.

“ Blooming blood blooms a burial.” This time Helaena was focused on you as she spoke. Her eyes filled with unknown sorrow. You left Aemys to play with his cousins as you rushed to the library. No one else was there to question your sanity as you pulled book after book from the shelf to find the old dornish fables that lay hidden among them.

“Hanahaki..”Every word, every page, and every definition seemed to tear you apart further as you read. No other condition led to flowery bile except for this one. Aemond loved you though. How could this be possible?

Your thoughts would be answered two morrows later when Aemond returned from his siege of Harrenhal. Everyone had expected to see him arrive on dragon back alone, certainly not with a strong bastard. A gorgeous strong bastard at that. You felt your chest tighten as you gazed upon her dark flowy locks and enchanting eyes. Oh by the seven, how could you spite him for loving someone like her? If circumstances were different, then perhaps you too would fall under her spell. It wasn’t until you saw the way she clung to Aemond’s arm that the coughing fit started. This had to be it. What else could it be? Aemond hated physical contact with strangers, yet he let a previously unknown wetnurse cling to him like a paramour. The harder you thought about it, the harder you coughed. The fit only resulted in a petal or two, but in time that would grow. The longer Alys rivers stayed, the worse you got. Both you and the universe could feel Aemond straying from you, even if he spoke differently.

“I am not in love with her!”Aemond snapped, reaching his breaking point in this petty argument that had started hours ago at dinner.

“ You do not see the things I see, Aemond. The way you defend her, encourage her, look at her…all in the way you used to look at me-” It took effort to fight down the sickness as you fought. It had been months, but you made no move to tell Aemond, you couldn’t.

“ I do not love her as I love you-”

“ Yes, but you love her!” You cried in outrage, gripping the wall near you for support. Everything became so out of focus as you spoke the words. It was the first time you had ever admitted it to yourself. The dew of brick cooled your skin as you leaned against the wall. Your body trembled with deep echoey coughs as petals tore their way up your throat.

“ I did not mean to make you sick, dear wife” Aemond spoke softly and simply. Wife. He had never called you that before, not even on your wedding night. It was always my love or Ñuha prūmia. How ironic for him to call you his heart when sooner or later he would be the reason yours cease to beat.

“ Just go, Aem, please.” You pleaded, turning away, “I do not wish to fight.”

“ As you wish.” Aemond’s bow before he left was the final straw to crack your heart open. Why must he be so formal when you stand dying a few feet away? How can he not see how badly you suffer? Were the shadows beneath your eyes, or the crack of your lips not big enough clues for him? Would you need to be dead for him to finally understand?

Unfortunately for you, that’s exactly how it was going to be. Everyone else around you had begun to notice the shift in your behavior. The fatigue, the paleness, and the emotions. Alicent first noticed it when she sat in the nursery with you, Helaena, and the children just after supper. She saw the way your eyes refused to leave Aemys as if it would be your last look. The way you held him was the same way she held Aemond when he lost his eye.

“ He’s a clever boy.” Alicent smiled as Aemys recited a word back to one of his cousins.

“ That he is.” You agreed, melancholy ghosting your lips. It hurt the queen to see you this way. You were a part of her almost as much as her children. You came to her as a child she was not forced to love nor conceive. Yet you wormed your way into her heart as if she had carried you. The sight of you so sickly and sad tugged at Alicent’s heart.

“ You’re sick, are you not?” Alicent proclaimed in observation rather than a question.

“ Mhm, In a way I suppose I am.” You hummed out softly. It had gotten to the point where it was hard to speak most days. The petals had begun to come up in thick, dry heaves, with occasional thorns that tore at your throat.

“ Have you told Aemond?” The queen inquired.

“ Aemond is the reason I’m sick in the first place.” You grumbled before sighing in defeat, “ Or I suppose it’s more of my fault. I was foolish to think he would ever actually love me.”

“ You don’t mean-” Alicent’s soft words trailed off abruptly. Alicent Hightower was no stranger to the hanahaki disease. She too had suffered through it once. Except she learned how to get around it.

“ I do.” You answered simply, with no trace of sadness or indifference.

“ There are ways around it my d-”

“ Such as forgoing my love for Aemond, I know. I could live a long life if I cast aside every loving memory I hold of him, but alas it is not that easy. I have tried, if that brings you any comfort. In the midst of the night when my eyes are swollen from tears and the blood in my throat is so thick I cannot breathe, I have tried, and I have failed.” Alicent’s eyes well with tears as you speak, almost as if she’s dared to imagine you in such dismay. You reach out to soothe her hands comfortingly, but she grips onto yours tightly instead.

“ It is not easy, but you must keep trying.” Alicent urges, a wobble to her voice.

“ There is no reason for me to put myself through the agony of erasing my happiness when I am already in physical torment. The sight of Aemond is the very reason I wake up every morning. Hearing his laugh, seeing his smile, and feeling his warmth are all things that have kept me going. Forgetting those would be forgetting myself.” You reason, a wisp of remembrance in your eyes.

“ If not for yourself, then for Aemys” Alicent argues.

“ Aemys is one of the reasons I have chosen to give up. Every time I look at him I see Aemond. They are alike in everything but the eyes. The mere sight of that boy reminds me of the night he was made, of the love and passion Aemond had for me. Yet he no longer holds in regards to me. I would rather Aemys hear stories of his parent’s love than grow up with two plain parents.” The child in topic bursts into giggles a few inches away, stealing your attention from the queen. Your eyes crinkle with happiness and you move to turn towards him, but Alicent holds firm.

“ Aemys needs his mother.” She argues once more.

“ He does not. Aemys will have a loving father and grandmother by his side. Alongside his aunt Helaena, Uncle Daeron, and three beautiful cousins. Even Aegon cares for the little rascals’ life.” You chuckled.

“ That is n-”

“ Please, I have made my choice. I appreciate your council, but it is too late. I fear after I lay my son to sleep, it will be my last night alive. I thank you for all the love and comfort you have given me in my lifetime. I love you, mother.” You pressed the meat of your cheek against Alicent’s hand in farewell before standing.

“ If you’ll excuse me-” As you stood to retrieve your son, Alicent excused herself from the room hastily. Never did she think she would find herself running through the castle’s corridors, but yet here she is. Alicent’s heels had been long forgotten and the emerald hem of her dress dragged upon the stone as she made haste to the library, where Aemond would be.

“ Aemond! Ae-” The frantic shrill of the queen mother’s voice echoes throughout the shelves.

“ Mother?” Aemond calls out, emerging from a row with a disheveled Alys in tow, “ Is something wrong?”

“ You hide away fondling a wet nurse while your wife withers away! Have I truly raised you this way?” The despair in Alicent’s voice takes Aemond by surprise. He reaches out to hold her arms, but she pulls away.

“ She is not withering away, mother. She has assured me that it is just a small cold.” Aemond speaks calmly, in hopes to ease his mother’s franticness.

“ A small cold!? She has every sign of hanahaki disease and you have not suspected a thing?” Alicent refuted.

“ Because it is not possible! I love her!” Aemond snaps.

“ Not enough!” Alicent sighs, “ In no world should I have had to be afraid of letting her go in fear that I would not see her again. She has accepted her death, Aemond. How far out of love have you fallen with her to the point where your wife greets death openly?”

Aemond doesn’t bother with a reply because he’s already on his way out of the door. His pounding steps reverberate through the empty halls and the tremble of panicked breathing surrounds him. Fear nearly eats him alive as he reaches the door to your marital chambers. Never has he been terrified to open those doors to the sight of you. He had never once feared finding you dead, but now he has. Slowly but surely, Aemond pushes the giant oak open. He spots you knelt on the balcony in your nightdress, looking up at the stars. Lark lay whining at your side until she hears Aemond shuffle forward. Much to Aemond's surprise, the hefty beast that once worshiped him as you did, bared its teeth to him.

"Please.." Aemond wasn't sure if he was pleading to Lark to let him pass or to the gods for your life. Either way, the Hyena was the first to answer him. Lark moved aside slowly so that Aemond may pass, but still kept defense from a ways away.

“I-” Before a word can even escape his lips, you’re lurching forward. Aemond rushes forward and sinks to his knees to hold you. The convulsions of your stomach can be felt as he circles your waist.

“ I’m so sorry, my love, please.” The cold wash of fear grips his spine as blood and flowers paint the floor. He has no idea what to do. You’re not saying anything or doing anything to cease the onslaught of terror, yet you’re not pushing him away either. On the contrary, you’ve tangled your fingers with the hand he has over your stomach.

“ I love you. I’ll always love you.” Aemond croaks helplessly into your hair as you lean back against him. It’s too late, you had once said. It seems that the universe had agreed. Your breathing rattled to a stop and the grip of your hands weakened. “ I love you. Forever and Always. I promise.” Aemond whispered, pressing a salt-soaked kiss to your temple as he felt your heart slow. The thump that once echoed through your back onto his own heart stuttered to a stop, and with it so did Aemond’s world.

Part 2

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon angst #aemond targaryen angst #angst

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shadowandlightt · 3 months

Text

Of Nightmares and Memories /five/ Azriel X reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

They came not an hour later. You hid in your rooms like the coward you accused Tamlin of being. They didn’t put up a fight as Amerantha’s men, Rhys included, hauled them off towards the mountain. It left you in a state of dismay. Because with Tamlin gone, and the Faebane slowly leaving your system, there was no reason for you to stay here in Spring. You could easily run back to the night court and hide in one of the cabins your family owned. You could easily hide in the mountains and pray that one day Amerantha would meet her match.

Only you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. One day you tried, only to turn and vomit in the rose bushes. You then turned around and went back to your rooms and crawled under your covers. You stayed there and didn’t move for the rest of the day.

On the third day, Feyre showed back up. Much to your surprise, claiming to love Tamlin and willing to go under the mountain to save him. You rolled your eyes, but knew that love well. Because you would have given your wings if it meant seeing Az again.

“She’ll kill you,” You say from your spot at the kitchen doors, “The second she realizes you’re there, she’ll kill you. But she’ll draw it out, make it slow and painful.”

“Not helping,” Alis hissed at you.

“Who are you?” Feyre whips to face you.

You only smirk, “A friend. That’s all you need to know. Rhys might be your only hope.”

“Rhysand is a brute.”

“Perhaps,” You shrug, “But he wants out from under Amerantha as much as the next, only he has the power to make it happen.”

“What are you saying?” She questions.

“If he comes to you with a bargain, take it,” You tell her, “It could just save your life. Play his games, it might just save you from hers.”

“Don’t be a fool,” Alis said, “Don’t make any bargains.”

“Fine then, die and damn us all.”

“Why are you trying to help me?” Feyre asks.

“Because, dear human, I want to go home,” you said almost wistfully, “And I can’t as long as that bitch is in power.”

“Where is home for you?”

“The Night Court. But I’ve been held here for hundreds of years.”

“How old are you?” Her voice shook as she asked.

You only laughed and shook your head, “My age is of no concern to you. I’m not even sure I know it anymore anyway.”

Alis sighs from behind Feyre and gathers some supplies. you watch her carefully, wondering if she’s eager to send the poor human to her death, or if she hates the idea as much as you do. But you can only hope that Rhys will help her in any way that he can. You can only hope that he wants out as much as you think he does.

“If you ever feel alone, look towards the shadows,” You explain, “I’m not promising I’ll be there. But if I feel I can risk it-”

“Now that would be foolish,” Alis adds.

“Thank you, Alis,” I hiss back, “You should go, now. Mother knows what that Bitch has done to your precious Tamlin.”

The idea of him getting his happy ending made you sick again. The idea of him being able to be happy when he’s caused so much suffering….you almost couldn’t handle it. But if this meant Rhys and the other members of the Night Court could be free then you had to allow it to happen. You had to try to aid the young girl in any way that you could.

“Stick to the shadows,” You tell her, “You won’t get far once you enter, but always listen. And keep your wits about you.”

“Thank you,” She said in earnest.

You watched from the broken front door as Alis led her away. You weren’t sure you’d ever see the human again, but you weren’t sad to see her go. It felt like leading a lamb to the slaughter, but it had to be done. There wasn’t another choice. Not if you wanted to survive, not if you wanted everyone to be free again.

Each day you flung your powers out further and further, urging your shadows just a little further. They whispered back to you, telling you of what was happening under the mountain. How Feyre was dying, sick with fever and how Rhys came forth with a bargain. She headed your advice and took the bargain, marking her with a tattoo and a bond with Rhys.

Each day you tried to find a way to contact your brother, but you knew you couldn’t risk it. There was no way you could reach his mind from so far away, not with the lingering effects of years of Faebane still in your system.

You prayed that maybe Feyre would tell him about you and he would figure it out for himself and come for you once all of this was over. You prayed and prayed. There was nothing but silence. No news came. Your shadows were skittish, growing restless waiting for Amerantha to do something.

You lost weight from not eating. The lack of food would kill you eventually, and maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. If Valaris parished and there was nothing left of the people you called family- no one left but Rhys who thought you were dead anyway…would death be so bad? It could all be over finally, and maybe the Mother would be so kind as to bring you back to Az in the next life.

Three months. A mere blip in your young life, but feeling like a lifetime nonetheless. It took three long months before you saw three figures coming up the road. They were moving fast, all three of them. Feyre, it seemed, was no longer human. Your shadows neglected to tell you that when they said she’d survived and Amerantha did not.

You made your way downstairs, towards the door which you’d managed to somewhat fix. None of them looked worse for wear, but you knew whatever Feyre had been through would stay with her for a long time. And Tamlin had the ornate ability to simply sweep things under the rug and forget about them. He would do the same with her.

She looked High Fae, smelled like it too. With traces of my brother. So small, almost undetectable, but there. Shimmering like the bond you knew they had. You wondered when he would call in his bargain, when he would take her away from this place and show her the splendor of the Night Court, the beauty of it.

“You’re still here,” Tamlin stopped, a scowl forming, “I set you free.”

“You set me free, perhaps, but I would have died before I made it back to my own Court. Safer to stay here until I could contact my brother.”

“That won’t be happening,” Tamlin said slyly, “Feyre, darling, why don’t you go inside with Lucien. I’ll be inside in a moment.”

Your eyes narrowed as she did as she was told. Lucien spared you a glance, pity swirling in his eye. It made a pit form in your stomach. You wouldn’t be leaving the Spring Court, you realized. You would be forced to stay here until the day you died, or until Tamlin finally decided to kill you.

Maybe you would make it your mission to push him as far as you could so he would kill you. Maybe then you could finally know peace, and not whatever it was that you knew now.

“I thought I was going to free you,” Tamlin took a step towards you, “But then your brother made that Bargain with Feyre, and made me look like a fool under the mountain.”

“So once again, I’m to become your bargaining chip?” I question, “What? Me for Feyre?”

“Perhaps.”

“I could mist you,” You hiss.

“Ah, but you can’t,” Tamlin laughs, “Because even after all this time, the Faebane is still in your system. You can’t even winnow, because if you could, you would’ve left by now.”

He surges forward and grips your cheeks in his hand. You yelp in pain before going completely still. You won’t let him have the satisfaction of seeing you in pain, or anything. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of it.

“You, little one, are going to be here for a very long time,” He squeezed your face harder, “And I’m going to enjoy finally breaking you.”

Little did he know, you were already broken.

“Go to hell,” You spit out.

“I was already there,” He smirked, “It didn’t take.”

“He’ll kill you once he finds out,” You force out, “And I’ll watch and laugh.”

“I’m counting on him trying.”

Tag List

@historygeekqueen @queerqueenlynn @wallacewillow0773638 @sstrohma @saltedcoffeescotch @hnyclover @thelov3lybookworm @maddybraps @minnieoo @witchymomfrien @mariahoedt @one-big-fangirl @amara-moonlight @st0rmyt @annamariereads16 @hunterksmith

#acomaf #acotar #azriel #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar fic #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger

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janeyseymour · 2 months

Text

Dancing On My Own (Tiesto Remix)- pt 2

After some pushback from the first, I knew I had to write a second part, and quick. this should placate most of you.

Summary: the aftermath.

Part 1.

WC: 2.25k

tags: @lakita-fisher @weeeeeeeeee3 @lilsmeaux @@morgana-larkin

You somehow make it home unscathed- you could barely see as you drove through your tears, your breakup playlist on full blast. You guess you’re officially done. With Melissa already having a new woman, you wonder just how much you ever even meant to her.

As soon as you’re pulling into your spot, the waterworks hit in full- as if they weren’t already. You rip off the jersey and hat that you wore out, not caring where they land as you throw them into your front room. You had bought a bottle of wine to share with the redhead that you fell madly in love with to celebrate getting back together, and hopefully a big win, but now that seems wrong to drink on your own. You reach for the vodka instead.

You don’t show to school the next day, calling out claiming that you’re sick. And you are. Your heart hurts more than you ever thought possible, and your hangover is killer. You spend the morning laying in bed, eyes rimmed red. The redness won’t be going away any time soon.

Melissa saunters into the school, happy that she hasn’t seen your car in the parking lot, and doing a little dance because her team won. She’s also quite happy that she was able to rebound with last night- even if she didn’t particularly enjoy the woman that she spent her time with. She much rather would’ve spent time with you, but… you were… are a Cowboys fan.

“Someone’s happy,” Barbara chuckles. She thinks she knows why. “Did you have a good night at the game?”

“I did!” Melissa grins. “I took this girl I met at the bar, and-”

The kindergarten teacher’s face drops. “What?”

“I wasn’t going to let the ticket I had for Y/N go to waste,” the redhead shrugs. “So I asked Lena if she wanted to go with me to heckle the Cowgirls fans.”

“Oh no,” Barbara whispers. “Oh, no. no. no.”

“What? I figured after Y/N and I, I should get myself back out there.”

“No,” Barbara states again with fire. “Oh good god.”

“What?! What, Barb?”

“I- I have to go make a call,” the kindergarten teacher grabs her coffee mug and heads out quickly. She closes her classroom door as she dials your number.

Your phone starts ringing far too loudly, and you groan. You glance at it and see Barbara’s contact picture light up.

“Hello?” you groan into the phone, just barely sitting up. Your voice is rough, both from the tears and the fact that you haven’t spoken since last night.

“Sweetheart,” your coworker whispers to you. “Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Home,” you grumble. “Sick.”

The kindergarten teacher frowns. “Sick? Lovesick?”

“Heartbroken,” you whisper, voice cracking slightly. “She was there with someone else. You knew, didn’t you?”

“Y/N, dear,” Barb sighs quietly. “If I had known that she was talking to someone else, I never would’ve told you to go for it. In fact, when she came in dancing today I thought it was because the two of you got back together.”

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p’. “She had her tongue down someone else’s throat.”

“Honey, I am so sorry,” the woman tells you softly.

“I’m not mad at you,” you tell her genuinely. “You didn’t do anything wrong but try to help me.”

“Can I do anything else for you?” Barbara asks.

You sigh. “Just… when I come back to work tomorrow, pretend I was sick? I don’t feel like having Janine jump down my throat.”

“I can do that,” the kindergarten teacher says softly. “And please know that even though the two of you aren’t involved anymore, we are all still on your side. You’re still a part of our-”

“It’s okay,” you sigh sadly. “I know that you’re all Melissa’s friends, and I don’t want to put any of you in an awkward position having to pick sides. She’s been here longer; it’s all hers.”

“Sweetheart,” Barbara breathes.

“It’s okay. I’ll be okay, Barb. Thank you for trying to help me,” you mumble before hanging up.

By the time you hang up with her, the students will begin trickling in, so Barbara doesn’t have time to go speak with Melissa about the situation at hand.

But at lunch, Barbara simply grabs her lunch and picks up the redhead’s that is already out on the table.

“Barb,” Melissa gasps.

“My room. Now,” is all the kindergarten teacher has to say to get her friend to follow her out of the staff room and down the hall, head hung like a child being escorted to the principal’s office.

When they get there, Barbara sets down their lunches at her desk and pulls a chair up for Melissa.

“Barb, c’mon,” your… ex-girlfriend groans. “What gives?”

“What the hell were you doing out with another woman?”

The second grade teacher immediately gets defensive. “Y/N and I-”

“Y/N went to the game last night… dressed in Eagles gear and ready to cheer for your team because she loves you,” the older teacher says sternly. “And you threw it in her face that you were done with her and already moved on.”

“She- what?”

“She spent close to a thousand dollars on sports gear last week to try to win you back. She wore Phillies gear, she wore Flyers apparel, she wore a Sixers sweatshirt, she even wore a jersey from the Union, and on Friday, she wore Kelly green to show you that she’s in Philly now.”

“Didn’t show up in a Hurts or Kelce jersey though,” Melissa rolls her eyes.

“Because she was saving that for last night when she was going to win you back with the ticket that she managed to get next to you!”

Melissa’s face drops. “She- fuck.”

“She’s not sick. She’s heartbroken right now.”

The redhead bites her lip. “I fucked up takin’ Lena, didn’t I?”

Barbara nods. “She was crying when I called, and she told me she was heartbroken to see you with some other girl’s tongue down your throat.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” the kindergarten teacher nods. “That word.”

Melissa breathes out heavily. “Do you…” she shakes her head. “She’s still a Cowboys fan.”

“Melissa Ann, you love her. She loves you. She’s perfect aside from that one fact, and when she tried explaining herself to you at school, you wouldn’t let her get a word out. Hear her out, and even then… if she does love the Cowboys, are you really going to let something as trivial as a sports team rivalry come between you and the one person that you love?”

“I…” the redhead bites her lip. “Do you think I have a chance at winning her back?”

At that, the kindergarten teacher shrugs. “You’ll never know if you don’t try… although, I would end things with this new woman you were making out with last night.”

The end of the day could not come sooner for the second grade teacher. She’s debated texting you or calling you, but she feels this is something that she has to do in person.

So as soon as she’s finished for the day, she runs out. She leaves her lunch bag in the staff room, doesn’t wait for her work wife; she just books it. She’s tearing out of the school parking lot in the direction of your apartment complex.

The entire drive over, she’s preparing what she’s going to say to you, but once she’s standing on the door mat that you have sitting outside your front door, it all leaves her brain. She knocks a few times before stepping back.

Who the hell is at your door? Could it be Barbara checking on you? Or maybe she said something to Janine or Jacob, and they’re here to make sure that you’re okay? With a groan, you sit up and stand from the couch. You’ve been sitting there for so long wallowing in your self pity that you leave an indent in the cushions. You check the peephole, and… why is Melissa standing at your door?

You open the door, not caring how you look right now.

The sight of you hurts her heart. Your hair is messily tied up, you haven’t changed out of your pajamas, your eyes are still rimmed red… you just look so heartbroken right now.

“What? Come to yell at me some more?” you try sound angry, but it just comes out pathetic.

“No,” she says softly. “Hun, I’m-”

“Here to break up with me?” you sigh. “You made it pretty clear we were done.”

“Can I come in?” she asks quietly. The woman sounds so unlike herself.

You shrug and leave the door open as you walk away. She follows you in. “I’m here to say I’m sorry.”

“It’s whatever,” you sigh as you curl back into your mountain of blankets. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be civil the rest of the school year, I’ll leave you and your friends alone, and then I’ll find another school in the area to work at.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Well, it’s a little hard to work with your ex-girlfriend,” you sigh. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind seeing yourself out.”

“Y/N,” Melissa says so softly, and she has her eyes trained on you. They’re filled with sadness. “I don’t want to break up.”

“I thought we already did,” you spit out. “And if we didn’t, I know you had your tongue down another woman’s throat last night anyway, so if you don’t break up with me, I’ll do it for you. Then you can make me the bad guy when you-”

“Barb told me what you were trying to do,” the redhead admits softly.

“If you would’ve just listened to me, you would know that I didn’t necessarily have a choice in who I rooted for when it came to football. My father, who is my idol and best friend so don’t you dare say a single bad thing about him, loves the Cowboys. He insisted on buying me the Prescott jersey despite the fact that I didn’t want him spending that money on me to begin with.”

“I should’ve known with you growing up near Dallas,” she sighs.

“But I’m here now,” you continue. “And once I talked to him and he told me that if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. So I did. I bought all of this Philly stuff, bought a ticket to the game and showed up in a hat and Hurts jersey, only to see you with someone else. So… it’ doesn’t matter.”

“Hun, I never wanted her.”

“Well, you got her.”

“The whole time, I was wishing it was you.”

You rub your temples.

“Barb told me she helped you,” the second grade teacher admits. “If I had known… I would’ve been-”

“Any time they brought me up, you shut them down,�� you fire out. “You wouldn’t let me speak to you at all.”

“You avoided me too!”

“I was trying to give you space, and when I did try to talk to you, you shut me down and told me you weren’t going to date a Cowgirl.”

“How can I fix this?” Melissa asks as she comes to sit down next to you. “I’ll do- I’ll do anything.”

“I thought you weren’t going to date a Cowgirl,” you taunt her. “And you have your new girl now.”

“She isn’t my girl,” the redhead tells you sternly. “You’re my girl. She’s some random girl I picked up at a bar while I was trying to distract myself from missing you. The whole time I was with her, I wished it was you- I didn’t even sleep with her. She was throwing herself at me, but I couldn’t.”

“So what are you saying?”

“And then today when you didn’t show up to school, Barbara told me what you did and how she helped you… she talked some sense into me; asked me if I was really going to let a stupid sports rivalry get in the way of loving the one person I truly adore. The answer is no. I was… an idiot. An absolute idiot.”

“Yeah,” you snort. “You were.”

“So… I’m here, begging you to take me back. Please, Y/N,” Melissa tears up. “Please. Please don’t walk away.”

“Melissa, you hurt me more than you know,” you whisper.

“And I will spend the rest of my days making it up to you,” she promises you. “Please.”

You take a deep breath for huffing it out. Secretly, you were hoping she would come back to you. And the opportunity is right here in front of you. “It’s… it’s going to take a bit for me to fully forgive you.”

“And I understand that entirely. I was a real jackass. I’ll make it up to you however I can.” She pulls you into her arms and kisses your temple gently. “However I can.”

That ‘however’ is by having her take you to another Eagles game- with the entire Abbott crew. You wear your Hurts jersey, hanging off of her the entire night, and you cheer for your new team.

The other ‘however’ is by getting her to take you to a Phillies RedOctober game at Lincoln Financial field. When they play their celebratory song after clinching a spot in the World Series as NLC champions, you know that you’re no longer dancing on your own (tiesto remix). You have Melissa by your side.

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary

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gunnerfc · 2 months

Text

Double Trouble | Kyra Cooney-Cross & Matildas!Reader [Platonic]

Summary: Matildas camp becomes a bit more chaotic now that you and Kyra are reunited after you were out for an extended period of time with an ACL injury

Warnings: there's like one really dirty joke lol

WC: 2.2K

AN 1: wish I could take credit for the dirty joke but i heard it ages ago from some youtube video

AN 2: in hopes of helping Arsenal fans distract themselves from the game today…

You thanked your cab driver as he pulled up to the hotel the Matildas would be staying in for the upcoming camp in Brisbane. You, despite playing Australia, were one of the last ones to arrive that day due to misplacing your plane ticket. Despite arriving late to the hotel, the team still sitting in the lobby due to a room error the hotel staff made.

As you entered the lobby, you immediately spotted your teammates, one in particular. You sped up your walking just as Kyra lifted her head when she heard suitcase wheels rolling across the floor. The midfielder quickly jumped from her seat as you two embraced in a tight hug, squealing loudly together. You could hear a few groans and whispered “oh no’s” from some of the older girls on the team which made you and Kyra laugh.

You and Kyra had a bit of trouble making a reputation within the national team, always finding yourselves in some sort of trouble. The team had been free for your pranks and jokes for a while as you were out with a harsh ACL injury. Now that you were back, you and Kyra had a lot of time to make up for and you would not be holding back.

“I’ve missed you so much!” Kyra all but yelled in your ear before you two pulled away from each other.

“Didn’t have too much without me, I hope,” you joked as you took a seat next to Charli, quickly giving her a side hug.

“Of course not,” Kyra replied with a teasing grin on her face that you knew all too well. You were glad to be back with the national team after your injury but you were even happier to get to spend time with one of your best friends.

“Okay, guys! They got everything sorted out, here are your room assignments. When I pair you up, you can come get your keys and head to your rooms before dinner,” a staff member spoke loudly to get your attention as they walked toward the group.

They read off their list, pairing up those who were there and leaving everyone else who wasn't there yet for a later time. The staff member was almost done calling out names, only you, Kyra, Alanna, and Mary were left. You were silent hoping that you would get a room with Kyra, making it easier to plan pranks.

“Y/N, you’ll be rooming with…” the staff member read off, pausing as she saw the hopeful glint in your eye. “Alanna,” she finished as she held out two hotel room keys.

You groaned, throwing your head back when she didn’t say Kyra’s name. Alanna dramatically gasped at your actions, hitting you in the arm as she stood up. You rolled your eyes at her but she could see in your smile you didn’t mean anything mean.

You followed the blonde to the elevator, making small talk about her life in Manchester and the things you did while you were out. When you made it to your room, you claimed the bed near the window and got started on putting your things up.

“What time did they say dinner was,” you asked as you got your training bag ready for training tomorrow morning.

“If you and Kyra had been listening, you would have heard them say seven thirty,” Alanna playfully scolded, throwing you a pointed look when you mocked her.

Dinner came quicker than you thought and you found yourself sitting at a table with some of the other younger players, all of making jokes instead of eating. You and Kyra took turns telling jokes, trying to see who could make your teammates laugh harder. You eventually won after telling a dirty joke, something you were known for on the team. Even in moments when you should be serious, you had a dirty joke ready to go.

Dinner ended without much excitement other than the jokes told and everyone found themselves back in their rooms, ready to hit the training grounds bright and early. You told Alanna goodnight after you were both in bed, both of you falling asleep pretty quickly.

You groaned some hours later when the alarms you both set went off, the sun peeking in from the curtain hitting your face, making you squint your eyes as you rolled over to turn your alarm off. You let Alanna sleep for a few minutes longer as you went to the bathroom to get ready, hurrying as fast as possible so you could meet Kyra.

Alanna groaned as you softly shook her shoulder before she sat up, her hair all over the place. You laughed at her bedhead before she shoved you slightly as she got up to get ready. You yelled out to her that you were going to find Kyra as you passed the bathroom, opening the door and coming face to face with the midfielder you were hoping to see.

The two of you chatted in the hallway before heading toward the conference room that had been turned into a dining hall for the team. “I dare you to tell Steph a dirty joke while we eat,” Kyra knew you would be able to get a reaction out of the captain, one of your usual victims.

“Say less,” you smirked as you two entered the room, most of your teammates already sitting down with their food. A joke came to your mind as you got your breakfast, grabbing a glass of milk as well as some water. The milk would be useful later for your joke.

You and Kyra joined her fellow Arsenal teammates as well as Hayley and Macca at a table off to the side. You received a chorus of sighs when you sat down causing you and Kyra to laugh at your teammates. The two of you kept your jokes to a minimum as you ate, Kyra giving you a look every so often as she waited for you to say something inappropriate to Steph.

You took sips of the glass of milk you had, prepping it for the joke you were going to tell the defender. You waited until there was a small sip left and everyone at the table was done eating so you had their full attention.

You gave Kyra a teasing smirk before turning to face Steph, waiting for her to end her conversation with Caitlin. “Hey Steph,” you laughed lightly when she turned away from Caitlin, her focus now on you.

“Do I even wanna know what you have to say,” the captain sighed, earning a quiet round of laughter from everyone else at the table.

“What did the virgin say to her boyfriend after her first blowjob,” you laughed as you took the last sip of milk, keeping it in your mouth instead of swallowing.

Steph groaned at your words, already shaking her head as she waited for you to finish the joke. Others at the table mumbled things like “oh my god” or simply started chuckling at the first half of your joke.

“I love you,” you said as you spit the milk back into the glass in front of you. Steph brought her hands to her head in disbelief at your words.

Your joke earned you loud laughs from Kyra and Hayley as Caitlin and Macca sat across from you with their jaws dropped. You laughed harder at their faces, using a napkin on the table to wipe your mouth. Kyra lifted her hand for a high five which you gave her as she pointed with her other hand toward Steph who refused to meet your eye.

You didn’t get the chance to get told off by your captain before a staff member told everyone to get their things and head for the bus. You quickly disposed of your trash before you and Kyra headed to your separate rooms to gather your training gear. You met back up with some of the younger players as you headed for the lobby, retelling the joke you told Steph earning another round of laughter.

You and Kyra sat together on the bus, much to everyone else's dismay. You two spent the whole bus ride messing with Charli and Mary who were sitting in front of you. You two laughed as Charli turned around in an attempt to hit you, though she missed as you quickly moved away.

The two players in front of you were grateful when the bus pulled into the stadium, thankful to be away from the double-trouble duo that was you and Kyra.

Everyone was quick to change into their boots and training tops before everyone was headed for the pitch. You were one of the first ones out the door and took the opportunity to hide around a corner to scare some of your teammates. You let a few of the pass before you heard Ellie and Hayley coming through the tunnel, knowing they would be great targets.

You waited until their voices were close to you, yelling loudly as you jumped around the corner. Ellie’s loud scream alerted everyone else as Hayley started swearing at you as she hit your arm multiple times. You laughed each time she hit you, their reactions to the scare were comical.

“Camp was so much nicer when you weren’t here, y’know,” the winger huffed as she walked past you, throwing her middle finger up as you laughed harder.

During training, you and Kyra were kept separate the entire time. Everyone knew if you two had even a second together you could come up with some prank that would get everyone. Each time you even attempted to go in her direction during breaks, someone would pull you back by your shirt.

The only time you had to be near Kyra was when you were doing scrimmages. You two were more focused on trying to trip each other rather than playing the ball. The team couldn’t be mad at the two of you, knowing how long it had been since you two got to spend time together. Plus, they found it extremely funny each time one of you tripped the other.

Training went on for a bit longer before Tony decided to call it a day. You and Kyra made your way back to the locker room while trying to wrestle, her arm wrapped around your neck as you tried to keep her other arm pinned to her body. You moved your hand to tickle under her arm, the midfielder quickly pulling away from you as she started laughing.

Everyone changed quickly before making their way back to the bus, ready to take showers before relaxing a bit before dinner. You and Kyra took your seats, this time everyone made sure to leave the two seats in front of you empty so no one would have to suffer whatever you two came up with.

The bus was quiet on the way back to the hotel but that didn’t stop you and Kyra from hatching a plan to prank Alanna. It was risky to prank your own roommate but you knew her reaction would be worth it. Everyone took their time exiting the bus and making their way through the lobby, too exhausted to do much.

Though the same could not be said for you and your best friend, the two of you were bouncing with excitement. You two waited to take the elevator, letting Alanna have enough time to get to the room and start her shower. You giggled as you rode the elevator up to the tenth floor, already picturing how the blonde defender would react to your prank.

Kyra quickly tossed her things into the room she was sharing with Mary before you both entered your hotel room. You were as quiet as you could be as you sat your things down softly as Kyra grabbed the hotel ice bucket. You two rushed down the hallway to where the ice machine was, giggling to yourselves as you filled it up and rushed back to your room.

Kyra propped the door open so you could make your exit quickly as you quietly opened the bathroom door. Steam had fogged up the large mirror and Alanna’s phone was lying on the counter blasting music as she took a shower. Kyra stood at the bathroom door, her phone ready to record.

You held your laugh in as you stood on your toes to dump the buck of ice into Alanna’s hot shower. The blonde shrieked as the cold ice hit her body and you quickly raced out of the bathroom and into the hall, Kyra laughing as her phone caught Alanna’s loud swearing. You two fell to the floor as you could still hear Alanna’s voice, not-so-kind words escaping her mouth.

You two rushed to Kyra’s room just as Alanna opened the hotel door, clad only in a towel as she dripped water onto the carpeted floor. She quickly looked up and down the hallway expecting to see you and Kyra peeking around the corner. She cursed when she didnt see you, quickly closing the door before someone saw her.

You and Kyra laughed as the midfielder watched through the peephole. You were glad to be back at camp with the national team but mainly you were happy to spend time with Kyra. The team may suffer when the two of you are together, but they'd be lying if they said the two of you didnt make camp a bit more exciting.

#woso x reader #awfc x reader #auswnt x reader #matildas x reader #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney cross

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 3 months

Note

Not sure if we're still allowed to send in smutty thoughts but thinking about dry humping Jake on the beach

all the beach sex, yes!!!! any pun i can possibly make with sex on the beach absolutely elates me every time - it's my favourite cocktail personally, so it's always self insert too

also feel free to keep requesting (here)!

top gun masterlist | top gun blurb

The radio is on in the background, playing some summer hit that you've heard three times in the past hour, and you're tilting your head back in a silent moan as you rock against Jake's bare thigh.

The waves crash against the sand, the sun bathes you in heat, your skin is sticky with lotion and salt and you know you shouldn't be doing this - which is probably exactly why you're doing this.

"Jake", you whimper, palms braced against his chest, arousal soaking your bikini bottoms. He's grabbing your waist, guiding your movements with a grin on his lips, leaned back against the sunlounger. He's enjoying this. Maybe even more than you are.

The thrill of being out in the open like this - the risk of being stumbled upon.

Penny hadn't only offered you and Jake the secluded part of the beach behind the Hard Deck, she'd offered it to the entire squad, and on a beautiful, sunny day like this, you'd be surprised if none of them decided to take the opportunity.

It shouldn't excite you. Not as much as it does.

You know you should probably stop. You should just get up and jump into the waves and go for a swim or something, not rock against Jake's leg all exposed like this. But he'd looked so good, sitting there with his sunglasses on, bare chest and sweaty skin and messy hair, reading the book he'd all but stolen from you, even though he still claimed he didn't care about it...

You hadn't been able to help yourself.

You can't help yourself now.

So you tilt your head back to him and blink your eyes open to look at him, with that lazy fucking grin on his lips that you can immediately feel in your core. Jake raises his eyebrows at you.

"Go on", he urges, sliding his hands smoothly down your skin, kneading your thighs. You hadn't even realised you'd stilled. You'd been so focused on that goddamn grin-

Instead of an answer, you lean in and press your lips to his, to kiss it right off of him. The look on his face is even better after, because for once, he's not grinning, his lips still parted and his eyes glued to your mouth, all hazy for a second or two, before he leans right back in and presses his chest against yours.

Your hands trail up his torso, up his neck, to bury themselves right into his hair and tug at those sandy-blond strands, pulling him into you, pulling him closer and closer and-

"Hey, lovebirds!"

You jump back with a start, heart thumping out of your chest, and whirl around only to spot a whistling Phoenix, taking the first few steps onto the beach, the rest of the guys trailing behind her with bags and coolers of various sizes and colours slung over their shoulders.

"Fuck", Jake mutters, his hands dropping from your thighs, yours loosening from his hair, to bring some distance between you - you're lucky you hadn't been busier than making out, really. You were sure that if they'd come a minute or two later... This wouldn't have been such a nice surprise.

Phoenix drops her bag next to your sunlounger just as you move down Jake's leg again, to discreetly wipe a palm down his thigh and tug at your bikini bottoms.

"Didn't think we'd leave you all by your lonesome, did you?", she grins, braces her hands against her hips and looks down at you. Even through her sunglasses, your cheeks redden under her watchful eyes. You feel caught. You've been caught.

"No", Jake grunts, and you flinch when his fingers suddenly brush against your ankle. Phoenix raises her eyebrows. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip and relax again. Luckily, she lets it go when the rest of the guys start plopping their things down next to hers and send a round of hello's your way.

Within the span of twenty seconds, most of them have their shirts off and are running head-first into the waves.

Bob stays behind, but busies himself with the coolers. You let out a deep breath and turn to look at Jake again.

"Didn't work out well for us, hm?", he asks with a chuckle, puts one palm back onto your thigh and nods down. Your eyes drop.

He's rock-hard in his bathing shorts. It takes a second for you to put two and two together and realise why he'd pulled his hands from you so quickly when Phoenix had walked up to you.

You're still soaked yourself, well aware that you couldn't lean down for the next half hour or so, not unless you wanted to potentially expose yourself.

"No", you sigh, and for whatever reason, you have to laugh. "No, not at all."

When Bob comes over to offer you a beer, you've already turned around and settled against Jake's chest, naked, sweaty skin against naked, sweaty skin, his arms around you, thumbs brushing little circles onto your hip bones.

"I'll make up for it when we get home, alright?", he breathes into your ear, so low it sends a shiver down your spine even in these temperatures.

"Yes, please", you smile, eyes closing - and have to intentionally stop your thoughts from running wild if you don't want to have to wait another half hour longer to move again.

#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #x reader #top gun #top gun x reader #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin

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luckykiwiii101 · 4 months

Text

The Blair Bitch Project

And who am I? That’s one secret I’ll never tell. You know you love me. XoXo - Gossip Girl 💋 💌

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♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

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Welcome back, Upper East Siders.

Call me superstitious, but I’ve got a feeling this winter could be your last season on this app. Let’s face it, I’ve been at this a long time. But age breeds wisdom. And this I know: the best is yet to come.

From all around the world our favourite Upper east siders are asking the same question. “How do i get what i want?!”

“Why can’t I have it?!?! ughhh this isn’t fair!!!”

Well, call me crazy, but bitching about it, won’t get you to your final destination. Only if you use it the right way………

Think fast B, bitch about it? or BITCH about it?

Yes, I’m talking about the Blair BITCH Project.

Since the Blair Witch Project is SO LAST SEASON, I’ve got something new to bring to the table. And no, it’s not a 5 star meal, it’s much sweeter, or should i say sour.

No one said being a Bitch would be easy.

Well……I could make an exception if your name is Georgina Sparks or Serena Van Der Woodsen. But the Bitchiest Bitch of all Bitches Is our Queen B, Blair Waldorf. It’s the season to put on your louboutons and do what you do best, Bitch about it.

They say history repeats itself. But looks like B is charting a brand new course to success. Who knew being such a B-word would get you so far? Gotta take a few notes from Queen B herself.

As Blair said “You can’t make people love you but you can make them fear you.”

Yes i’m talking about those pesky little negative assumptions you hold in that thick little head of yours. Holding on to the seats on the limousine like Blair and Chuck. Speaking of Chuck, let’s Chuck those assumptions away, far far away.

“How am I going to do that?”

Just be yourse-

Oops. The inner Georgina jumped out just there. I was going to say be a bitch, but I guess there’s no difference……… (Just kidding……or am I? XoXo. Nothing Gossip Girl loves more than a little mystery).

It’s B’s party, and she’ll cry if she wants to. Everytime you open this app, you will bitch about how easy it is for you to enter the void state and how you always wake up in it. It’s your choice really. Vaunt about it in your posts, or the replies to any void related post you see. Bitch about it randomly in your mind everytime the void state comes to mind. Shouldn’t be difficult for a Stage 5 Bitch.

Careful ladies and gents. It’s easy to fall into the valley of overconsumption. Maybe you’ll even come across a faux bitch claiming to own a Chanel purse, but when they’ve been caught red handed, you may even start to think that you can’t have a Chanel purse. How tragic.

Fuel that energy into full bitch mode and vaunt your anger/frustration/sadness/irritation into bitching all about it, and replacing those ugly assumptions with prettier ones. They need a serious MAKEOVER! Ew.

SPOTTED: B taking what seemed like a innocent little stroll down central park, but we all know everything B does is NEVER innocent. She’s been caught RED handed, drowning her two-faced wannabes (negative assumptions) in a lake in central park, after crying them a river (vaunting) and drowning them in it. A classic Blair Bitch move. I like it.

Wait……? Can you hear that? It’s B. She’s at it again. OH EM GEE! Cover your ears. It’s a full blown bitch attack!!!!

Blair:

“OH MY GOD, I SWEAR I CANNOT EVEN CLOSE MY EYES WITHOUT ENTERING THE VOID STATE! I EVEN HEAR SOME STUPID BITCHES GOSSIPING ABOUT HOW I ALWAYS ENTER THE VOID STATE WITHIN 2 MINUTES! IT’S SO FRICKING ANNOYING! WHY ARE THEY ALWAYS TALKING ABOUT ME!!!!!???!! UGH THEY WISH THEY WERE LIKE ME, THE PERFECT VOID MASTER! AS IF THEY COULD EVER! THIS IS WAY TOO EASY, IT’S LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO STRUGGLE! LIKE HOW STUPID CAN YOU BE IF YOU’RE STRUGGLING WITH THE EASIEST THING ON THE PLANET! THAT’S LIKE BELIEVING THAT IT’S DIFFICULT TO BLINK OR SOMETHING!UGH IM WAYYYY TOO GOOD AT THIS!IT’S EASIER THAN FRICKINF BREATHING! UGHHHHHHHH!!!”

Negative Assumption:

“No you can’t hahahah ur so ba-.”

Blair:

“BITCH SHUT THE FUCK UP! DOROTA!!! COME CLEAN THIS LITTLE SHIT UP! IT’S PISSING ME OFF! IM TOO GOOD AT THIS LMFAO! WHY IS IT SO EASY?!UGHHHH I COULD LITERALLY JUST SLAP SOMEONE RIGHT NOW! MY POWER COULD PROBABLY SEND THEM INTO THE VOID STATE OR SOMETHING!!! I ALWAYS WAKE UP IN THE VOID STATE. IT’S LITERALLY NOTHING. NO BIG DEAL. I’M USED TO IT ANYWAY!!!”

Careful ladies and gents. B might be the Big Bad Wolf in designer clothing.

Don’t become a bitch in the process……Or do, I don’t care. I see you. XoXo.

Still reading an American Horror Story? Close than damned book and open a new one. Just make sure it’s not the sequel. We don’t need a repeat of past……events.

#void state #void #law of assumption #loa blog #loa tumblr #loassumption #loablr #manifestation #loa #void challenge #the void state #void concept #void state tips #manifesting #self concept

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steddieasitgoes · 11 months

Text

“Babe! It’s about to start,” Steve calls from his spot on their couch.

Their living room has been taken over by the Party, but unlike twenty years ago when they all would have fit crowded but comfortable in the space, they’re like a can of sardines now. Bodies on top of bodies. Some share dining room chairs, others sprawled out on the floor so they don’t block the TV.

It’s rare they’re all together like this now, just the original Hawkins gang, no kids, no outside significant others, just them.

It needed to be like that.

At least for this.

“Thirty years ago, a small town in Indiana was plagued with a series of misfortune tracing back to government mishandling. Or so the residents were told. While many in the town believed the government story, others became skeptical.

“For the first time ever, we’re talking with a group of citizens who claim to be intimately involved in the events that really happened in a once quiet Indiana town. Stay tuned for a special showing of The Truth Revealed: Hawkins Turned Inside Out.”

“Oh, they were so close,” Dustin chuckles.

“Dammit, Eds! Where are you?” Steve calls again, throwing his body over the open couch cushion as Max tries to claim it.

“The show is starting and he’s not here, so it’s mine now,” she says, pulling on Steve’s arms to get him to move.

“You have Lucas’s lap to sit on!”

“And Eddie has your lap to sit on. Now move!”

Steve’s about to give in when Eddie comes racing down the hallway. The sudden absence of his thunderous footsteps is the only warning sign before he throws himself over the back of the couch and crashes down on Steve’s back as if he’s still a twentysomething year old and not a fiftysomething year old.”

“Seriously, Eds?” Steve groans under the weight of Eddie.

“Aw, baby,” Eddie croons. “Thought you loved being under me.”

The room erupts into a chorus of mock gagging and outrage. It brings Steve right back to the summer of 1986, when he and Eddie’s relationship was new and shocked the kids. They couldn’t even peck each other on the cheek without one of them wanting to gouge their eyes out. In a fun way, of course.

“We still got it,” Eddie laughs, leaning forward to free Steve.

“You guys are disgusting,” Robin laughs from the chair she’s currently sharing with Robin. Bodies pressed so close together they’re practically intertwined. She’s one to talk.

“What are you wearing, babe?” Steve asks, glancing over at Eddie for the first time since he made his dramatic entrance.

Eddie beams. His cheek dimples so big and deep, Steve’s pretty sure he could bury his entire pinky nail into them.

“Thought I’d dress for the occasion,” he shrugs. “What do you think?”

Steve blinks, really taking in Eddie. He’s wearing an old Hellfire Shirt. It’s not the same one he wore during Spring Break 1986 — that one went stayed behind in the Winnebago — but it’s the same design. A leftover from the hoard of shirts Eddie made for his club all those years ago.

It’s a snug fit. The logo stretched taunt across Eddie’s well-loved belly. The bottom of the shirt barely covers his navel, rolling up at the hem. The sleeves still fit though. Nothing’s changed too much about Eddie’s arms, aside from new ink to cover some of the scars.

Eddie’s left no detail unturned. From the black jeans that aren’t as baggy as they used to be, to the chain and bandana in his back pocket. He’s even got his old rings on. The only detail out of line is the missing skull ring he used to wear on his left ring finger. A black band with a gold stripe through it sits there instead.

“You should have told us you were dressing up,” Dustin wines.

“Yeah! I would have found dug mine out of storage,” Mike adds.

“If I told you it wouldn’t have been a surprise!” Eddie smiles, tipping his head back in that satisfied way of his.

“And now it’s time to learn what really happened in Hawkins, Indiana in the 1980s,” the announcer says.

Her booming voice is met with a chorus of shushing and chants to turn it up, all of which are listened to as they settle in to watch themselves reveal what really happened all those years ago.

Of course, it doesn’t stay silent for long as they all chime in with comments, laughter, and even some tears. They may be thirty years removed from the events, but the wounds are still fresh for most of them.

On the final commercial break, Erica checks in with social media on her phone. Shaking her head and mumbling curses under her breath.

“They don’t believe us,” she fumes, typing violently on her phone. “Those idiots. It’s just the facts!”

“We knew we weren’t going to convince everyone,” Lucas says, trying to placate her.

“It was never about them,” El nods. “It was about telling our truth. So we do not have to lie anymore.”

“I know,” Erica groans. “But it’s still annoying. They’re still going to think we’re freaks.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Eddie says.

They all nod in agreement as the final segment of the show begins. It’s quiet as they watch the final minutes of their own interviews play out on television. They all get asked the same question:

“If you could go back and relive those years without any of these events happening, would you?”

To no one surprise, they all answer no.

But it’s Steve’s answer that gets everyone choked up.

Especially Eddie.

“Absolutely not. I wouldn’t be the man I am today without the shit we went through. I never would have met my platonic soulmate. Or the love of my life. And I would probably be stuck in a miserable cookie-cutter family, instead of the found family I have because of those events. I’d take a thousand more hits to the head or bites to my chest if I had too to keep them around.

“Besides, being normal is overrated. Being a freak is so much better,” on-TV Steve says, winking directly into the camera.

Eddie leaps at Steve, smothering him with over-the-top kisses until the kids are groaning and gauging so loud it drowns out any of the trauma that the documentary might have brought back up.

“I’m changing my answer,” Dustin groans. “I’d go back and make sure you two stayed mortal enemies!”

“Too late, Henderson,” Steve sings. “You already said you wouldn’t go back. It’s immortalized on TV!”

#idk what this is but enjoy #steddie #steddie ficlet #stranger things ficlet #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #dani writes

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milaisreading · 1 year

Note

Hi, I wanted to say i love your blue lock fanfic and is it possible for me to request a short story about manger reader and the boys fighting in who will sit next to her on the bus and to the character who got to sit next manger reader was getting death stares/glares because she feel asleep on them and began to like cuddle up on them while being asleep

(And if you make this is wanted to say thank you so much for making this ❤️)

Author:Hii! I hope you like this and thank you sm for reading and requesting! Have a great day and stay safe🩷

Warnings ⚠️: Reader uses she/ her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue lock belongs to:Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

Once in a blue moon Ego shows some mercy to his players, Anri and (Y/n), and surprises then with something. Whether it's an extra day off or for a day the players and the manager can eat whatever they wish. Today was one of the days where Ego and Anri had organized a small trip to Osaka. The group was pretty excited as they were able to visit some shrines as well as some malls. The last part was mostly exciting to Reo, (Y/n) and Aryu who went looking for clothes, while the rest were either at a nearby arcade or food restaurant.

"That looks cute! You should get it." Aryu comments as (Y/n) showed them a sweater she found.

"Yeah~ it would look nice with that skirt." Teo added, pointing at the item with a grin. (Y/n) looked at the skirt and then at the sweater. Then went to look a little bit closer at the skirt.

"Hmmm~ It does look cute Reo-" (Y/n) froze in her spot as she looked at the price tags of the two.

'Is...is this made out of gold?! My time in Blue Lock made me forget how expensive living is...' The girl looked and looked back at Reo and Aryu, laughing nervously.

"Ahh~ now that I think of it, it will just be a waste. I have nowhere to wear it, anyways." She said rather quickly and put the sweater away.

"Huh? You seemed so excited about it. It would look really cute" Reo urged as Aryu chimed in.

"Beaides, if wearing it nowhere is an issue I have a suggestion. I will take you out on a date-"

Reo kicked the taller boy's leg before he could finish his sentence and sent him a side-glare.

"Still I can't-"

(Y/n) was interrupted by her phone ringing and she handed the sweater to Reo.

"It's Ego-san." She simply said and left to take the call.

"You are not as smooth as you think, Aryu." Reo said, his smile dropping as the taller rolled his eyes.

"Learned it from the best."

"Whatever, it's not like she will pick you in the end, we all know I have the upper hand." Reo said, inspecting the sweater, trying to find the issues.

"You with that hair can only dream of it."

'Hmmm...' Reo thought as he looked at the sweater.

"Guys, we need to get to the bus." (Y/n) said, returning to the duo. Aryu nodded his head and grabbed her hand, pulling her away from Reo.

"Reo, hurry up." (Y/n) exclaimed.

"I will be there in a minute, I need to call my mom." Reo said nervously, hoping she won't catch his lie. Thankfully Aryubwas there and he didn't really care much about Reo, so he just kept pulling her away.

"Let's go~"

"I call dibs." Isagi announced as the rest looked at him in confusion. The part of the group that was scattered around the mall was already at the bus and waiting for the trio to come back.

"What dibs? To sit next to the window, I already claimed it as my spot!" Bachira exclaimed, earning a sigh from Rin.

"Can you both just shut up?"

"Where did Nagi go?" Niko asked, looking around the place as Karasu pointed at the bus.

"The sleepy genius went into the bus."

"No, I call dibs on sitting next to (Y/n)." Isagi answered back, catching the attention of the others.

"What? Why you?" Chigiri retorted, causing Isagi to smile.

"Because, I am her favorite."

"Since when?! If anything, I am, I cause her the least amount of trouble." Gagamaru sent the boy a challenging glare. Kunigami cleared his throat and pointed at himself.

"I think I should call dibs, since I am the one who helps her around in my free time."

"Ok, muscleman that gives you still no rights." Chigiri rolled his eyes.

"(Y/n) tells me most of her concerns and issues she has. So I am her favorite, with that I deserve sitting with her." The redhead said proudly as Baro chimed in.

"You peasants don't even deserve being in the same room as her, let alone be her favorites. She should sit next to me, also I am better to lean against."

"Please,I am a much softer option. She also is the calmest around me. Best option for a long trip from Osaka." Hiori said, earning a slap from Kurona.

"We are basically the same, Hiori. So I am just as good, even better than you."

"You and your shark teeth should need to get in their lane." Kurona and Hiori glared at each other as Karasu chimed in.

"To make things less complicated, I will sit next to (Y/n). After all, I make her laugh the most."

"It would be quite romantic if (Y/n) sat next to me. Just like all the cute couples do." Otoya sighed dreamily

"No!" The rest yelled.

"Why are they arguing now?"

Niko blinked at looked over as (Y/n), Aryu and Reo approached them.

"Ah... the usual." The black-haired boy commented as (Y/n) shrugged her shoulders.

"I am too tired for this... I will leave it to Ego-san." The girl yawned as Aryu, Yukimiya and Reo tried to shut them up, afraid that Anri and Ego might punish them.

Using the opportunity, Niko ran after (Y/n) and stopped her before she entered the bus.

"Can we sit together, (Y/n)?"

"Hmm... sure!" She smiled and the duo walked inside.

Short to say the ride back to Blue Lock was tense as Niko kept receiving death glares from the others, especially after seeing (Y/n) fall asleep on him.

"Sleep with one eye open..." Karasu whispered ad Kurona huffed. Niko didn't pay much attention to them, feeling happy at the moment and at peace.

'This feels nice...' He sighed, ignoring Nagi's constant complaining and telling him that Reo will write him out a check if they switched spots.

"I will buy you an island too, just move." Reo cried out.

"No thanks~"

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