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#can you tell i've been bingeing friends
andi-o-geyser · 10 months
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Deanna Leimert has everything. powers of the gods. an angsty backstory. majority of the only braincells in any group she's in. an ex husband. a werewolf fuckbuddy. a gay best friend. the best hangover cure you've ever had. religious trauma. homecooking skills. the ability to butcher a goat. a medical degree. a dump truck ass. and an etsy shop
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queen-of-fanfics · 11 months
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Stay Away From Him
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Prompt: Miguel is jealous of your closeness with Hobie and tells you to stay from him.
A/N: Well I have had too much free time at work and all I've been doing is writing. Kinda love it. Also, how did y'all like Across the Spider-Verse? I saw it four times in theaters, it's like a drug in my veins. Anywho I figured I wanted to do a fanfic in a world that I haven't done yet so here it is!
Part 2
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“Hey, Y/N.”
“Hey, Peter!”
“Hey, Y/N”
“Oh hey, Peters.”
“Oi! Y/N!” Recognizing the accent, you look up in the air and see Hobie swinging his way over to you.
“Hobie! What are you doing here?!”
This was your second week working inside the Spider-Verse headquarters. You were the only person there who wasn’t some version of Spiderman. One day, Miguel O’Hara was in your universe for a job, bing bang boom, next thing you knew, he offered you a job. Your job here at headquarters was to act as his assistant of sorts. Help him with errands, help him on missions, and fetch him lunch because the poor man will work until he starves. That was exactly what you are doing now. You had finished locating the latest anomaly and went down to the cafeteria to grab him some empanadas.
Working at headquarters was like a living dream. So far, everyone seems to like you and you’ve already made friends. Hobie and Gwen welcomed you with open arms and the three of you became inseparable. During your time working with Miguel, you may have developed a little crush on your boss. You never told anyone about how your heart starts beating faster or how your breath gets shaky when he stands a little too close. Though, you never had to say because everyone could see it. And everyone warned you away from the infamous Miguel O’Hara.
“He’s not for you. He’s obsessed with his work and barely knows what having fun or being nice is. I doubt he even knows there’s a life outside of this place.” Gwen said one day during lunch.
“Who’s not for me? What are you talking about? I’m just here to work.” You shovel food into your mouth in an attempt to hide your face.
“Mmhmm, sure. You can deny it all you want but if you keep staring at him all weird like that, even he’s going to start to notice. Just trust me, you should just try to stay away from him. Which I guess isn’t possible since he’s your boss but you know what I mean.” 
“Though it does raise the question as to why he recruited her, don’t it?” Hobie chimes in. 
Hobie jumps on your back and it pulls you back to the present.
“I’m here for it! Whatchu think? I would willingly come here? Nah.”
“Actually! We just finished a mission so we just came to check in with Miguel.” Gwen swings down and lands right next to you. The three of you continue walking side by side down the hall to Miguel. Hobie throws his arm casually around your shoulder, keeping you close to his side.
You walk into the main room and see that Miguel is standing on his platform up in the air. There are a few people milling around the room, minding their business. People tend to hover around Miguel in case any missions come up or if he needs help.
“Miguel! I got you some empanadas!” You yell up at him.
He turns and barely glances over his shoulder at the three of you. He grunts and rolls his eyes in annoyance but his platform starts its slow descent. Gwen runs over to Jessica and they start talking. Hobie walks with you over to your little desk that sits on the ground floor …. like a regular person.
“So we still on for tonight?” Hobie asks.
“What’s tonight?” You turn and ask Hobie. You lean your butt against the desk to look up at him. He gets in close, places his hands against the desk on both sides of you, and cages you in with his arms.
“Whatchu mean what’s tonight? Did you forget already? Thought you and Gwen were staying in my place tonight!” Hobie teases you.
“Oh, Hobie! I forgot about that, I can’t come over.” Gwen yells over before she turns back to her conversation.
“Guess it’s just us then.” He mumbles and gives you a wink.
Before you could respond, Miguel’s voice booms through the large chamber.
“Y/N isn’t going anywhere tonight.” Looking over, you see that Miguel has lowered his platform as far as it could go and he is staring directly at the two of you with a deadly look on his face. All the conversations in the room died down and you could tell that everyone's eyes were looking between you and Miguel. Everyone treads carefully around Miguel … everyone except Hobie. 
“What? You keeping her hostage now?”
All of a sudden feeling nervous, unsure as to what put Miguel in a foul mood and not wanting to make it worse, you try to straighten up and stand in attention but Hobie isn’t moving. 
“We’ve got work to do here, Hobie. Unlike you, some of us have things we have to do.” Miguel crosses his arms and stares down at Hobie. 
“What work? We caught all the known anomalies already. Plus I was going to work on my bike, give it some more bells and whistles.” Jessica pipes up.
“There’s more work to do than just waiting around for things to happen.” 
“Then what do I gotta do, hmm?” Jessica sasses back to him.
“Nothing. I, uh, just want to do some surveillance. Never know ”
“And what Y/N got to do with it, then?” Hobie asks, giving Miguel a weird look.
“Y/N is my assistant. Y/N must assist me. And get off of her Hobie.”
“Right, but it don’t sound like there is any real work to do. I don’t see why Y/N gotta sit here and suffer being around you. And, uh, I’m actually quite comfortable where I am.”
“No no, I don’t mind. It’s my job. I can stay” You rush to say as you start pushing at Hobie’s shoulders. 
Hobie turned slowly to look at you without budging and you just stared up at him. “Move.” you mouth to Hobie with beseechment in your eyes. But all he does is smile at you and barely visibly shakes his head ‘No’. Eyes wide, you think to yourself, I’m not going to have a job after this. The room is still silent and no one speaks as the tension rises. 
“Everyone out!” Miguel booms, “Looks like no one wants to work anyways. It’s not as if we’re trying to save the entire universe or anything.” 
“Oh! Miguel, we wanted to check in about the-” Gwen is cut off when Miguel turns back around to his monitors and yells, “OUT!”
Everyone exchanges nervous looks around the room while they pick up their things. The whole time though, Hobie is looking down at you with a knowing smirk on his face. “What are you smiling about?” You hiss at him as you push him up so you can grab your bag and head out. 
“Oh just something I think you should find out for yourself. And you might soon.”
“Ugh, I’m going to kill you.” 
Hobie throws his arm around you and leads you out, “Yeah sure, but hey, looks like you can come over after all, aye?”
“Everyone except for Y/N!” You whirl around at the sudden sound but Miguel is still just looking at his monitors.
“Damn, looks like you’re going to find out real soon. See ya sweet cheeks.” Hobie gives you a wink and walks out with everyone else. 
You stood in the doorway waiting for Miguel’s instructions but after a few beats, you realized that he wasn’t going to turn around and talk to you. Slowly walking back to your desk, you couldn’t help but notice how the tension in the room did not leave along with everyone else. It still lay thick and heavy in the air. Taking off your bag and placing it on your desk, you turn around to face Miguel. You open your mouth to say something to break the silence but he cuts you off. 
“Come up here and help me look at this.” 
Your eyes grew wide and you hurried over to the dais. Your heartbeat started quickening with excitement, you have never been invited onto the platform before. Miguel looks down his nose at you with a disgusted look on his face as you struggle to even get your leg on the platform.
“Sorry, don’t got webs like y’all. Give me a second.”
You finally heave yourself up and flop over on your back, gulping down deep breaths of air. “You know, I’m starting to think I’m out of shape.” Figuring that it was time to actually get to work, you jump up to your feet and face the monitors.
“Alrighty, so what am I looking at?” All of the monitors were showing different videos of different universes. Some other monitors had new articles and alerts of potential disturbances. 
“Just, uh, keep an eye on some of the security cameras we have posted around. See if you catch any suspicious activity.”
“Were you expecting something to happen tonight? Did you get a tip?”
“No, just doing our due diligence to keep everything in line.” 
Your brows furrowed in confusion and you gave Miguel a side-eye look. This is what he’s keeping me here to do? To watch some cameras? 
The whole time he was talking to you and giving you instructions, he did not glance at you, just busily pressing buttons and typing something.
About 10 minutes went by in absolute silence with Miguel working and you … “working”. Getting bored and tired on your feet, you start leaning around the table and let out a sigh. Miguel looks at you over his shoulder but turns back to his work. Another 10 minutes go by before he asks, “So you and Hobie are friends?”
Surprised by the question and surprised he even spoke, you responded, “Yeah, I would like to think so. He’s nice, I like hanging out with him.”
“You two have gotten close?”
Getting confused by his line of questioning, you give him a weird look that he doesn’t see. “I mean, I don’t know about close. We hang out with Gwen too. It’s usually the three of us.”
A few silent beats fall between the two of you before he responds, “I didn’t know you were visiting different universes.”
“Hmm, I’m not really. Besides my own home universe, I’ve only just been to Hobie’s. I haven’t seen Gwen’s though not even she goes back there.” 
Again he doesn’t reply immediately and the comfortable silence continues. 
“I would advise you to stay away from Hobie. He could be a bad influence on you or something.” He mumbles so quietly that you almost didn’t catch it. 
“I’m sorry?” You asked, turning your body full to look at him now. 
“I said ‘you should stay’-”
“No, I know what you said. But I don’t understand why. What’s going on with you? Are you stressed about something? Do you not like Hobie? Because Hobie has been nothing but nice to me and he’s a friend. He keeps me safe even when I visit his universe.”
“And exactly how many times have you visited his universe, hmm? You two seem pretty comfortable flying across universes together.” It was his turn to turn and face you. Standing at his full height, the tops of your head barely came up to his collar bones. 
“I-I- … I don’t know. A few times I guess? 4? Maybe 5 times? But-”
“5 times?! You met him not even two weeks ago and you’ve already been hanging around him that much?” You were trying to explain to ease whatever caused his temper to rise. However, with every response you give, it only seems to anger him more. With every response, he is taking a step closer to you and walking you backward.
“I guess? But he’s my friend! And I’ve always been safe if that’s the issue. He keeps me safe. I know I’m not a Spider-Man like you but-” Miguel ignores your argument and cuts you off again.
“Right right and he keeps you safe which I am sure he is more than happy to do seeing as how he’s always getting up in your space. And what exactly do you do in his universe? You run around town like some hooligans and go back to your home universe when it’s late enough to be considered morning?”
“Ah- No, we hang out at his place and have dinner and stuff, I don’t know! And when it gets late I just stay over at his place!” 
“Stay over?! What? Like overnight? He’s got guest rooms now? He’s hosting house parties?” There’s sarcasm dripping in his words but your brain was running too fast to notice.
“N-No he doesn’t. He’s not. He just lets me use his bed when I’m too tired to go home and I’d just wake up the next morning to come here.” 
All of a sudden, he takes one last step forward and you take one step back but your backside hits the table. He drops his hands on either side of you, exactly like how Hobie had you pinned against your desk earlier but this is different. This feels different. The tension is palpable. With Hobie, it was friendly and playful. With Miguel … it feels like you’re getting hunted and just got caught.
“He what?” Miguel’s voice isn’t loud and angry anymore. No. It’s low and deadly. His question comes out always like a whisper as he leads in so close that your noses are practically touching.
“I don’t understand what’s happening. Hobie is just my friend. Why does this feel like it’s a problem?” You whisper. Miguel doesn’t reply. He simply stares at you with such intensity in his eyes, you’re surprised you didn’t evaporate. Suddenly, he’s looking at your lips. Acting almost instinctively, your tongue shoots out to wet your lips and his eyes immediately shoot back up to yours. There’s the intensity in his eyes again, only this time, it’s different. Definitely not anger.
Suddenly, an alarm from Miguel’s monitor goes off and the sound is thunderous in the silent chamber. 
After a few beats, Miguel drops his forehead on yours, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. The whole time, you never take your eyes off of him. Your heart is beating so fast and the blood is rushing in your ears. Very abruptly, he pushes off of the table and whirls around to the monitor. He turns off the alarm and starts typing away, completely ignoring you. Slowly pushing up from the table, you turn back to your own monitor and stare blankly at the empty alleyways and random buildings. 
Where there was comfortable silence before, now, the silence is deafening. 
“You should go home Y/N. I can finish this up on my own.”
Not sure of how to act or how to respond, you slowly climb down from the platform without saying a word and fetch your things.
“And I mean home, Y/N. To your home universe. To your own house. To your own bed.”
Looking back up the dais, Miguel is still facing his monitors, not even looking at you when he talks. Hitching your bag higher up on your shoulder, you respond, “Of course. Goodnight, Miguel. And … for what it’s worth … he always slept on the couch.” 
And with that, you take off running down the hall and teleport back home. 
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rustedhearts · 2 months
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just friends (roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader)
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summary: you and steve have been just friends for years now. but how long can you convince everyone you're 'just friends' before it becomes a lie? or steve harrington is your super hot roommate and everyone thinks it's stupid you guys aren't dating yet.
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
✶ the library
tags: roommate!steve, kinda shitty boyfriend!eddie, pining, fluff, angst, casual dominance from our casual dominance king steve, honestly going to try so hard not to make this a series but you know me.
a/n: i've wanted to write roommate!steve for so ages. you can thank a much-needed new girl binge and my tendency to take my frustration out on my mop for this.
The bass-heavy bump of music came at Steve full force before he even stepped out of the elevator. He paused, staring down the door of your shared apartment knowing that the sight that would welcome him would not be pretty.
In the kitchen, you were hunched over the handle of a mop, furiously dragging it over a sliver of tile. Teeth gritted together, face flushed and damp with sweat, hair disheveled and pulled away from your face, a pair of cotton shorts and an old t-shirt rolled up to the shoulders—you were a mess.
You were sad.
"Uh-oh." Steve stepped into the room, calling over the booming music. "What happened?"
You jumped a little, accustomed to the quiet of the apartment on Saturday nights. Steve almost always spent weekend nights at the bar down the street hitting on girls too sweet for him. You usually had until at least 11:30 to do whatever you wanted before some random girl came scampering in, clinging to Steve and giggling as they fumbled to his room.
But he was home early. And no matter how long you'd lived together, or how well he knew you, you still hated being seen like this.
So, you never took your eyes off the mop, scrubbing away a sauce stain on the tile.
"Nothing." You shrugged, flicking wisps of hair out of your eyes.
Steve watched you whirl around to drag the mop toward the bucket again. You stabbed it into the soapy water with a vengeance, nose scrunching with every slosh and splash. Steve leaned against the doorway and quirked a brow.
"Yeah? You're playing your sad music, though."
Your sad music consisted of a handful of hard rock records that most people would consider music for a dive bar—but you only ever played it when you were staving off tears. The louder you played it, the more upset you were.
Steve knew you a little too well.
This comment went ignored as you slapped the mop back on the floor and continued an angered scrubbing. Steve sighed, scratching at his temple. Most of the time, it was best to leave you alone. Sometimes, you needed to talk it out. It took a little coaxing—a pizza and a cold glass of Coke with a straw usually did the trick—but eventually, you'd spill.
And Steve would fix it.
Calm you down, help you figure it out, offer some advice. He gave pretty good advice for someone still struggling to get his own shit figured out.
Steve could tell from the way the song went unsung, the way you huffed every time the mop head flipped, the way you started stomping your foot when you found a stale French fry under the stove—you needed him to step in.
Pushing off the wall, Steve crossed the room and placed his hand over yours on the mop handle.
"Hey. Hey, come on."
You struggled at first, scowling at him as you tugged on the handle. "Stop it."
He sighed again. He was always sighing at you like a disappointed teacher.
"Hey." A little firmer this time, accompanied by a sharp snatch of the handle from your grasp into his. When you dropped your hands and obliged, the furrow of his brow relaxed. "Thank you. Now, why don't you go take a shower. The house is clean enough."
You frowned, wiping at the sweat on your head. "I just—"
Steve pressed his hand flat into the small of your back, steering you toward the door. "Seriously, honey, it's fine. You do stink, though."
That made your lip twitch—a semblance of a smile—with an amused little huff. You took a step toward the door, slippered feet scuffing. You looked over your shoulder toward Steve standing where you left him, still holding the mop.
He waved you off. "Go on. Take a nap, too.”
You nodded, flashing a tight-lipped smile. "Thanks, Steve."
He watched you shuffle away, shoulders slumped and eyes down as you went. He propped the mop against the kitchen counter and shook his head at the mess of cleaning supplies on the table.
When he heard the bathroom door clamp shut and the hiss of the shower head turn on, Steve rushed the front door again.
He opened it a smidge, enough to fit his head in and smile sweetly at the girl waiting in the hall picking at her nails. She perked up, stepping toward the door eagerly.
"Hey," Steve cooed, voice dripping with honey. "I'm so sorry, my roommate got sick all over. I think s-he needs to go to the doctor, so...would you mind if we raincheck?"
The girl—Sarah, as he would recall later on—broke into a concerned pout, clasping her hands over her chest. "Oh my god, that's terrible! You're so sweet taking care of him."
Steve chuckled, a breezy smile on his mouth. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for understanding."
She tipped her head, adjusting the purse strap on her shoulder. "Of course. Call me when he's feeling better?"
Steve nodded, knowing the phone number in his back pocket would dissolve in the washer in a week, and he had no intention of ever calling her to begin with.
"Yeah, for sure. Night."
"Goodnight."
He waited until the elevator dinged, watching the doors close on her grinning face, before pulling back into the apartment and locking the door. He blew a sigh out of his cheeks, head shaking as he headed toward the hall.
The shower had stopped, and he could hear the soft, wet patters of your feet behind the door when he leaned against the wall beside it. He knocked two knuckles gently into the wood.
"Honey?" he called. "Need anything? Wanna order a pizza?"
He waited, adjusting the hem of his shirt to spread out a wrinkle in the fabric. He knew what the answer would be, but he couldn't always be so obvious. He had to pretend that he didn't know you like the back of his hand, because everyone started telling him how weird it was.
"You've lived with this girl for two years and haven't boned? You're either gay or dumb as a box of fuckin' rocks," is what Max told him when they met for lunch a few months ago.
Everyone said the same thing. His sister, who teased him at birthday parties and summer barbecues that you were always his date for. Sabrina did everything in her power to push the two of you closer together at family events, ensuring your seats were always paired and your activities were always coupled up.
"You look at her like a dog with a bone," she teased last Fourth of July.
But Steve only shook his head, glancing your way where you were helping his mother decorate cupcakes. You were dating some guy in IT at the time. Total fucking nerd. He made you pay for most of the dates.
"Nah...we're just friends. She's got a boyfriend."
We're just friends was probably Steve's most popular sentence in the English language since the day he met you. A pair of college graduates who had no clue what the hell they were supposed to do with their lives, roommate-matched by the apartment complex and so content with each other that you just kept renewing the lease.
When you finally replied to his question, your voice came like a small, pipping whisper behind the door. "Yeah...but with mushrooms this time?"
This time, as if you didn't order a mushroom and sausage pizza every time. Steve smiled, pushing off the wall.
"Okay—"
"And—"
"And sausage, I know. I'll call 'em."
"Okay."
While Steve called the pizza place a few blocks over, you clutched a towel to your chest and padded to your room. You pulled on the softest items you owned and sat on the end of your bed. A long day of cleaning certainly tired you out, but that wasn't what ailed you.
It was the fight with your boyfriend last night at the bar, when he yelled at you for laughing at Steve's jokes even though you always did. He thought you were too close, too "chummy" to be just friends.
Unbeknownst to Steve, we're just friends was one of your most common phrases, too. You should've had it engraved on your forehead at this point.
"Hey." Two knuckles on your door this time before it skittered open. Steve popped his head in and grinned at you. "Wearin' my favorite sweatpants? Must be feelin' better."
You glanced down at the black sweatpants on your legs, snickering softly. Steve thought they hugged your ass perfectly, and loved the way they flared at the calves. The logo right on your left ass cheek was especially beautiful.
When you opted to leave that soft noise as your reply, Steve stepped into the room. He flopped beside you on the bed, springs squeaking shrilly.
"Wanna talk about it?" he asked.
You shook your head down at your lap, rubbing at your eye. You hated crying, and so far today you'd been doing well swallowing them down. Steve had only seen you cry once, and you avoided him for three days after.
Something about vulnerability made you cower.
"Okay...wanna watch a movie?"
You sighed, shifting a little away from him. Steve clocked it with a brow-furrowed frown.
"Steve...you don't have to make me feel better. I'm fine."
His lips parted to reply—most likely in protest—but the door chittered on its hinges once more with the small butted head of your tuxedo cat, Ted.
Steve immediately stood and scooped Ted up, turning to bring him to the bed. He scratched under his chin and brought forth a low humming purr immediately.
Not even cats could resist that pretty boy charm.
"Well, I reckon this lil guy will do a better job of cheerin' you up," Steve cooed, plopping Ted beside you.
A quiet giggle slipped from your mouth as you reached to swoop his tail. "Reckon?"
Steve shrugged, a sheepish grin on his mouth. "Just came out. I turn Southern in a crisis, darlin'."
He was just trying to make you laugh now, and he couldn't help but mirror the sound when it proved effective. Though, it also proved temporary. You soon settled on your side, tugging Ted to your chest with a fading smile.
Steve ran his fingers through his hair, gathering a chunk of it at the top to pull. A stress tick. You tried not to feel guilty for causing it.
"Well...alright." Steve shuffled backward toward the door. "Pizza in fifteen."
You nodded into the pillow. "Okay. Thanks."
Steve lingered a beat too long, eyeing your balled up form on the bed before slipping into the hall. You'd been sad plenty times over the years: breakups, let-downs, missed jobs.
But the guy you were dating now...you really seemed to like him. He was over all the time, practically living here at one point. Steve didn't really understand what you saw in the guy—Eddie. Steve scoffed to himself, head shaking. Stupid name.
You met Eddie at the auto shop where he worked. He gave you a discount on your oil change, and his tire talk was so smooth that you went on a date two days later. Six months later, and things still seemed to be going smoothly despite the pair of you having very little in common.
Usually, you dated harmless little nerdy guys. Steve actually laughed in the face of a five foot eight finance bro who threatened to "hurt him real bad" if he got in the way of your relationship. You dumped him that night, and the pair of you still laugh about it to this day.
But Eddie was...different. Sleeves of dark ink and a chainlink on his belt. A handful of chunky silver rings and another one in his nose. He always clinked in with a nod Steve's way and a hand on your ass, and it seemed that every time he kissed you in front of Steve, he looked him right in the eye while he did it.
Steve didn't like how small you made yourself around Eddie, and he didn't like how much Eddie seemed to enjoy it.
For everyone's sake, he hoped it wasn't Eddie that made you sad. For once, he wasn't sure he'd win that fight.
✶ ✶
There were many things about your behavior that night that concerned Steve.
Number 1: You only ate three pieces of pizza, and he got one small mushroom-sausage with extra cheese just for you.
Number 2: You didn't let Ted in when he scratched at your door, and Steve had to bring him to his own room for bed.
But worst of all.
Number 3: You didn't say goodnight.
So, Steve went to bed with Ted curled at his feet and a lump in his throat. Whatever you were upset about was bad, he could just tell; and everything in him was itching to make it better. He had this terrible, stupid ache to make life easy for you, and it never really went away.
He opened all your jars, refilled all your water bottles, made sure your phone was charged when he saw the little red bar. He bought more of your favorite snacks when he saw them running low, picked up things that "felt like you" when he saw them at the store. You had an abundance of miscellaneous yellow items sitting on your windowsill because you told him it was your favorite color two years ago.
In Steve's eyes, everything yellow in the world belonged to you.
Steve stirred in a half sleep for hours, kicking at his covers and offering murmured apologies to a miffed Ted who meowed at him. His concerns, however, came to a head when the sound of muffled shouting startled him completely awake.
He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and tapped the screen, rubbing his eyes clear to read the 1:15. He wondered which couple in the building was fighting this late. His bet was on Jax and Monica in 1F who were always on the outs.
"You think I'm a fuckin' idiot? I see the way he looks at you!"
But that was Eddie's voice.
"I don't understand where this is coming from."
And that was yours.
Steve shot up, fumbling for his glasses in their case somewhere in his nightstand drawer. He shoved them over his eyes, swinging his legs over the bed.
"I'm tired of competing with your fucking roommate."
"You don't—you aren't! Eddie, please, you know we're just friends."
"Spare me. You're a shitty liar. Hey! C'mere, I'm not done talkin'."
Oh, hell no. Pants abandoned, Steve swung his door open with banging force and rushed into the hall.
He found the pair of you in the entryway, Eddie's hand around your arm and your cheeks soaked with tears. You still had your pajamas on, and those little yellow slippers Steve bought for you last Christmas.
Both heads turned when Steve hurried into the room, tailed by a confused Ted butting at his leg.
Eddie huffed, motioning toward Steve. "Oh, great, of course you're here."
Steve braced his hands on his hips, glaring at the raven-haired man. "I live here, dick-wad. Remove your hand."
Eddie ignored him, still wringing your arm out. You cast your eyes away from Steve, ashamed by the state he found you in.
"You live up my girlfriend's ass, Harrington. And I'm kinda tired of you being there all the fucking time."
"Remove. Your. Hand."
"Stop," you sniffled, wiping the tears from your cheeks though it wouldn't do much to hide the pink rims of your eyes. "Eddie, he's my friend."
"If he's gonna be your friend, then we're done."
You gaped up at him, more hot tears bubbling over and stinging your eyes. "W-what? Eddie, that's—"
Eddie shrugged, smug and uncaring. "You heard me."
Steve's eyes moved your way, and he could only stomach the absolute heartbreak on your face for a split second before he was stepping forward.
"Alright," he barked, and then he was shoving the arm Eddie was holding you with. "Let her go, Aerosmith, and get the fuck out."
Eddie let you go, but spun sharply to face Steve. You weren't sure whose glare was more frightening.
Eddie stepped until he was toe-to-toe with your roommate. "You like fuckin' another man's girl? You like my sloppy seconds, you pussy bit—"
Steve might not have been much of a fighter, certainly didn't fare well with a man who lifted cars for a living—but he certainly excelled at being discrete.
Which is how he got a right hook in before Eddie could fight back. Which is also how Eddie ended up on the ground, and unable to stand again for a few moments.
"Jesus, Steve," you scolded, peering down at your boyfriend with wide eyes. “You knocked him out!”
Steve cleared his throat, ignoring the buzzing pain in his knuckles as he swept them through his hair and motioned toward Eddie.
“Hm? Nah, honey, he’s just…he’s takin’ a nap.”
Though still numbed by shock and worry, you couldn’t help the amused snort that rippled through you. Steve’s lip quirked, and he glanced at Eddie when he groaned on the floor.
“Um, well…let’s get you up, bud. Yeah, you’re okay, c’mon.” Steve began talking to Eddie like a child, cooing as he helped him to his feet by the arm.
And maybe he wasn’t nice about walking him to the elevator, watching him crumble to the floor as the doors closed. Maybe the shiner swelling on Eddie’s cheek filled Steve with incredulous joy.
But he swallowed all of it down when he returned to the apartment and found you standing right where he left you. If you were ashamed of your tears this time, it didn’t show. You grew inconsolable, and Steve had no other thought in mind that didn’t involve picking you up and taking you back to bed.
So he did just that, letting you soak his bare chest with tears as he went. When he sat you on the bed, he tipped your head up by the chin and wiped your cheeks.
“He’s not comin’ back tonight, sweetheart, it’s okay.”
Sniffling, you let him dry your tears and pull strands of hair from the sticky residue. “He thinks we were cheating. I t-tried to tell him…that we’re just friends.”
You deflated with a hiccuped sigh, and Steve’s smile was full of pity and pain. He rubbed his thumbs into your cheeks, nodding his agreement.
“Yeah. Just friends, honey.”
Your eyes fluttered with exhaustion, and Steve swallowed thickly. He pinched the edge of your pillow to pull it down, and gently coaxed you down by the shoulders. He pulled the covers up to your chin and plucked Ted from the ground to join you on the bed.
“He ain’t worth your tears, honey. Get some sleep.”
Sniffling again, you nodded quietly. Steve flashed another smile, and stepped back toward the door. As he reached for the light switch, he glanced over his shoulder to find your eyes again.
“Goodnight, Steve,” you whispered.
He shut the light off so you wouldn’t see the way he closed his eyes, like it pained him to hear you with another cry in your throat.
“Goodnight, honey.”
Steve sat awake until 6 a.m waiting for Eddie to come to his senses and return for vengeance. But he never came. In some way, Steve knew that would hurt you even more.
So in the morning when you woke, he greeted you with a handful of sunshine yellow daffodils and your favorite coffee. A soft kiss on the head and a scratch at Ted’s chin on his way out.
“Gonna meet up with a friend today. Call me if you need me, ‘kay?”
He went home with the first girl he met at the bar that day just to get you out of his head, and lied about it when he came home.
Just friends. Yeah, right.
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churipu · 25 days
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hii i hope ur midterms r going well !! ive binge read so many of ur work n js wanted to say theyre so amazing (´꒳`) i wanted a request for toji + any other character of ur choice x reader who stays up late n has difficulty sleeping (fluff),, thank u !! 🤍
𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗔𝗠 !
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────── 𝕴 . featuring. toji fushiguro x reader
────── 𝕴 . warnings. cursing, and mentions of toji being soft, i love him.
note. hi nonnie! thank you so much, you're too nice to me, and yes, my midterms went well! it's been so long since i've done the requests in my inbox, which is the sole reason to why i have closed my ask box so i could finish them all! although, the next time i open them, i won't accept requests for a bit. sorry for those who have visited my inbox and have waited for a long time for your piece to be done. // anyways, new theme = new layout!
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"why aren't you in bed?"
toji's voice came out hoarse — he cleared his throat and approached you, sitting himself on the couch despite his heart caressing his ears, pleading for him to go back inside the bedroom and just lay back down on the bed.
the cotton surface of the couch dipped just as he practically threw himself down on it, holding back a loud yawn. you raised a brow, shoving the spoonful of cereal you mixed with milk five minutes ago, just before toji emerged from your shared room.
small yellow chips of cereal that had grown soggy, seeping in the white tasteless liquid dispersed into a mush inside your mouth. they weren't even solid as they're supposed to be, "can't sleep, you?"
"you weren't there."
old habits die hard. that's how the saying goes, and you undeniably agreed to that. the night is an old friend to you, never did your eyelids felt heavy when you were supposed to be in bed, asleep. it's not healthy, you're killing yourself doing this.
"you're such a baby," you mutter out, staring into space, feeling your eyes slowly dissociate — jaw moving in a slow motion, biting into wet and mush before you swallow them.
"y/n, it's three am, y' can't keep doing this stuff," toji scratches his nape, leaning his head back onto the couch rest.
despite your eyes staring into nothing, you could hear his words pretty well. in fact, toji had repeated the same words countless of times that you found yourself engraving it into your mind, "i know, i can't sleep. i know it's not healthy, if i could stop it, i would."
"you're scooping nothing, y/n."
this time, his statement pulled you back into reality. looking down to see that you were indeed scooping no soggy cereal chip, nor a drop of milk onto your spoon. chuckling out lightly, you stood up and sauntered over to the kitchen, dumping what was left of your cereal pieces into the sink.
"you should go to bed," you tell him, wiping your wet hands onto your shirt — crumpling up the fabric to soak them in the access waterdrops lacing your fingers, "'ts late."
toji scoffs lightly, "shouldn't i be saying that shit to you?"
no mistakes there. you emitted out a soft sigh, "i'm fine, i'll be back in bed in a few . . ." toji raises a brow skeptically. he never forgot the last time you said that, he woke up alone on the bed — and you were wide awake on the couch, watching the morning news.
"hell no. it's two of us or nobody goes back to bed, 'm not kidding." he mutters out, not realizing how harsh his voice came out as.
brows furrowed deeply, he looks at you. your disheveled (h/c) hair going all point in a compass points, the visible dark shade of exhaustion coloring under your eyes — and the light creases on the corner of your beautiful, tired eyes.
"can you not?" you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose; honestly, you can't blame him at all, he's just a worried boyfriend and you were being stubborn.
"can i not what? worry about my own—" he stops mid sentence and shakes his head. toji was never a man of words, he doesn't express his affection to you through words. he's had moments, not a lot, but he's had them.
toji's a man of actions. he thinks that words mean nothing, which you knew, "'m tired, but i can't sleep, okay? i'll just hang out here a few more minutes and i'll come back to bed. you don't have to stay awake just because 'm awake."
"just shut up."
you stare at him, surprised. parting your lips, you try to speak again but toji beats you to it.
"can't i worry about you or something? you're my partner," he said, his then exhausted eyes now fully refreshed. a tinge of frustration coloring his greenish iris.
your eyes darted around for a bit, searching for words to spout out as a reply, "you don't have to worry about me, 'm fine. i promise. so, can you please just go to bed and stop worrying about me?"
"fuck that," he stands up, with heavy footsteps he darted towards you.
his figure grew in your view as he closes the distance between you and him. with a quick motion, he threw you over his shoulder, letting you dangle over his shoulder. at this point, you were too exhausted to even move a limb so you just laid there, not having the cell to even open your mouth.
toji walks over to the bedroom and he sat you down gently on the bed. on most occasions, he would throw you onto the bed playfully — but this was serious. he's pissed, and you're pissed.
"sleep."
you crane your neck upwards, face scrunching into one of annoyance, "i just told you that i can't—"
"try."
shaking your head, you said, "i can't, i've tried."
his finger brushed over your hair, smoothing them back down. he didn't reply to you. frankly, he finds it hard to be in the current position — as a kid, he was taught to never show his weakness. he grew up in a household full of so much hate that he forgot what love is.
here you were. vulnerable, in a weak state that toji has seen a lot before throughout your relationship. if this was anyone else, toji swore he'd tell them to suck it up because life isn't always what they think it ought to be.
but this isn't anyone else, it's you. y/n. the only person toji has showed his own vulnerable sides to — it's like a punch to his gut when he saw a bit of his younger self in you. he had nobody, and nobody had him.
it's different this time, it's not about him anymore. it's about you. you had him, and he had you.
toji inhaled sharply, his large hands slipping underneath your pits as he gently pushes you up. your feet dangled as he then pulled you into him, his right hand traveled onto the hollow of your back — and his left hand prepped your legs around his torso.
you felt like a child, "what're you doing?"
"shut up," he mutters out into the crook of your neck, "just try to get some sleep."
he pressed his lips onto your skin tenderly, making you shudder at the sudden contact — but you liked it. toji didn't stop, with an arm around your waist, and another under your thighs, he held you close to him.
warm and shallow breaths blew onto your skin like warm lights, it didn't tickle, you bury your head into the crook of his neck. copying his actions, "'m sorry."
toji grunted, "for?"
"just . . . everything," you murmur out.
his grip around your waist tightened, "'ts not somethin' to be sorry of, you can't control it. so just try and get some sleep," he muttered out, rocking side to side gently.
a faint smile appeared on your lips as you pulled your head back slightly, "you're too nice to me."
"don't get used to it," toji rolled his eyes.
"i love you too," you planted a kiss onto his lips briefly before returning your head into the crook of his neck, letting him lull you to sleep for the night.
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE.
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bet-on-me-13 · 5 months
Text
Danny is The Doctor (Dr Who)
So! I've been on a Dr Who High for a little while now, and I thought this idea up.
Danny, as the apprentice to Clockwork, has the ability to traverse Time, and his can use his own Powers to traverse Space.
(He is not at the same level of Time Manipulation as Clockwork, but he is still very good at it. Less of a Time Master, and more of a Time Lord if you will)
So, after his family dies and he is left alone for his Immortal Life, he gets bored. Taking a Cue from Ellie and her whole Exploration Obsession, while also indulging in his own Space Obsession, Danny decides to explore Space and Time to his heart's content. (Maybe Ellie is his Companion?)
He travels the Universe, visiting different planets, witnessing historical events, and sometimes even Helping wherever he can. He is still a Protector Spirit after all.
He doesn't use his powers much these days, in fact he has mostly locked them away in favor of using his own custom built Inventions to get any task done. He is the son of Mad Scientists after all, and he likes to Own It.
Danny becomes known across the Universe in the same way that the Doctor is. To some he is a Savior, a Healer, a Wiseman. To others he is a Demon, a Trickster, a Warrior.
Danny becomes the Boogeyman of the Universe, so it's no surprise that one day someone tries to contain him, to keep him Locked Up so he can never interfere with the Universe again. To do so, they build a Device named, The Pandorica.
(Yup, I'm using that little thing in this)
Danny is trapped within the Pandorica, mulling over the Irony of being trapped by a Device named after one of his friends, for Eons. He is completely and utterly trapped.
Sealed Away, waiting for the day when someone will set him free.
...
Now imagine this.
The JLA has just confiscated an extremely Old and Extremely Magical Box from an Alien Cult, who were proclaiming that they would use the Pandorica Warrior to fell their greatest foe.
They call in Constantine to explain what it is, and just imagine the Doctors description of the Pandorica Scene coming him him.
"This is the Pandorica, an Ancient Magical Prison designed to hold the worst of all bad guys." Started Constantine.
"Why was it made?" Asked Superman.
"There was a Goblin, or a Trickster. Or a Warrior." Constantine explained as he paced a circle around the Box in front of them, "A nameless, terrible thing. Soaked in the blood of a Billion Galaxies. The most feared being in all the cosmos."
He took a closer look at the box and Continued. "And nothing could stop it, or hold it, or reason with it. One day it would just drop out of the sky and tear down your world."
He paused and took a deep breath, "Or at least that's how the Story goes, probably why those cultists wanted it so bad. The greatest Warrior in existence on their side? It would be an instant win button."
"Is it possible to open it?" Asked Batman.
"Easily, anybody can break into a Prison. I just want to know what we'll find first."
Zatanna interrupted, "Won't need to wait long, it's already opening. Layers and Layers of Magical Barriers are dispersing as we speak. That Cult knew what they were doing, it's going to open soon. Very soon."
The Box in front of them shuddered a little, and they tensed. They waited for a few moments to see if it would do anything, but eventually they realized it was probably just a side effect of the barriers falling.
"How soon can we expect it to open?" Asked Batman, still tense.
Constantine replied this time, "From what I can tell, maybe 2 hours at most. So you have that much time to prepare to meet the Universes most feared Individual."
...
Just thought of this while I was binging Dr Who videos on Tiktok and thought, "this would be cool as a dpxdc idea"
Here is the Video that inspired me, give it a watch
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bettsfic · 1 month
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Betts. how do I stop feeling jealous of everyone and everything and just focus on myself? I'm tired of being comprised of nothing but envy.
story time:
so i was recently at Millay, which is one of the top artist residencies in the country. they have an acceptance rate of something like 3%. when i was shown my room, there was a packet of all the residents' artist bios. i sat down and read through all of them. most of them were like half a page in length, single-spaced, listing out accomplishments i could never dream of. one artist had won a guggenheim. one author had published 12 books. another author published her first book at 19 years old. these were people who were extremely well accomplished and respected in their fields.
and we all became very good friends!
and then there was me. my bio was 3 sentences listing out a couple short publications and awards and other residencies i'd done. and my honest to god first thought was, "wow, the jurors must have really liked my writing to have accepted me among all these great artists."
and my second thought was, "that's the healthiest thing i have ever thought."
i had no jealousy of their accomplishments. even though my career hadn't even begun compared to theirs, i didn't attend dinner that night with any impostor syndrome. and that confirmed for me that i had grown out of whatever place i used to be in as a person, where i was basically a raw wound wrapped in barbed wire. everything hurt me and i hurt everything in return.
jealous feelings come from an intense need of external approval, but as i've mentioned in other asks, approval and validation is a well that gets filled over time. at our introductory dinner that night, i didn't talk about my work in the hope of convincing everyone i deserved to be there, which was what i would've done a few years before. instead we all ended up talking about a TV show. the most highbrow place i've ever been in my life, and we're getting wine drunk and discussing at length a cheesy discovery channel reality series. the guggenheim winner: loves box turtles. the guy who's published 12 books: his favorite movie is Spirited Away. the girl who published a book at 19: reads One Direction fanfic. the well-lauded poet: old school tumblrina.
actually, 4 out of 7 of us read fanfic and we had some great conversations about it. sometime i'll tell you about introducing the co-director of the residency to AO3.
when you think of the most accomplished and successful writer you've ever read, remember that they are, at the very core of their being, a nerd. and if you were to eat dinner with them, you would, with enough polite inquisitiveness, be able to unlock the goofy side of them that binges Property Brothers.
so that was the big change for me, i think. i started asking a lot of questions. i stopped talking and i started listening. it seems counterintuitive that admitting to not knowing stuff shows confidence, but it does. pretending you know stuff is what looks insecure. i think for me, i put so much of myself in my work, i wanted my work to be lauded so i could feel accomplished, and feeling accomplishment would let me believe i deserved to exist. but over time, i've reframed that mentality. my work is a thing that exists beyond me and is private to those who read it. it comes from me, but it is not me. what i am is just the person i am, and my life is a series of moments i choose for myself, and i am allowed to exist.
even sending this ask shows that you've begun filling your well. it takes someone who's already come a long way to realize jealousy isn't the status quo and is a feeling to be overcome. and you can overcome it. you can reach a place where you have enough success that other people's success has nothing to do with you, and you're free to just be happy for them. and when you read work that's better than yours you feel joy at learning something new.
so put your work into the world and let it be rejected. you'll rack up a couple wins or close calls, and those will give you energy to be rejected some more. and eventually you'll be rejected so much that rejection doesn't feel like anything, and you will have won enough to realize your work has a place in the world, and that place is no bigger or smaller than anyone else's. your work is allowed to exist simply as it is, and you are allowed to exist simply as you are.
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joeys-babe · 3 months
Text
Joey B Imagines: I’m On Fire*
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————————————————————————-
Summary: When Joe mistakenly leaves his JB9 iced-out chain while at an away game, you bless him with a little photoshoot while you're hours away in Cincinnati.
Warnings: Smut
Paring: Joe Burrow x reader
Imagine universe: Just the Two of Us
————————————————————————-
*No specific date for this fic!*
(y/n’s pov)
Joe had just left the house for an away game, and due to some work-related stuff, I wasn't able to go with him.
The pouty expression he gave me when we were standing at the front door just a little bit ago made me want to climb into his bag. His lower lip sticking out was oddly convincing, along with his blue eyes.
“Joe, you know I can't go, baby.” - you
“Please… I want you to go with me.” - Joe whined
“I wish I could go too, but I can't, J.” - you
Joe whined once again, but this time, it made me roll my eyes. My annoyance didn't last long, though, as he hunched over and laid his head on my shoulder.
“I love you.” - Joe mumbled
His face being pressed into my neck made his words muffled, but it was oddly adorable.
“I love you too, but if you don't leave now, you're going to be late.” - you
I laughed when he stood up straight and groaned.
“I'm gonna be so lonely by myself in my hotel room tonight.” - Joe
“We can Facetime, goofball.” - you
“Not the same.” - Joe whined
“Okay, enough whining. Goodbye, Joe.” - you
Joe stared at me for a few seconds, trying to come up with a response that didn't show how annoyed he really was.
“Bye…” - Joe mumbled
I stood up on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Joe’s lips. When I pulled away, I giggled at the look of his flushed cheeks.
“Love you, sheisty.” - you
“Love you too.” - Joe grinned
——
Hours later, I was bored out of my mind, all alone in this big house.
I had cleaned almost the entire house, scrolled through Pinterest, made a dinner recipe I had pinned, and finished a show I had been binging - Fool Me Once.
There was pretty much nothing to do.
All I was doing right now was lying in bed, watching the ceiling fan turn, and feeling kinda sad when I got a whiff of Joe’s scent off of his pillow.
I missed him, and I saw him just hours ago.
That's what happens when your boyfriend turns into your best friend, I guess.
Joe’s game wasn't till tomorrow, but they'd probably just landed at their destination.
Maybe I should text him?
After thinking about it for a few minutes, I made up my mind and texted Joe.
hiiii
Ew, no. Sounds desperate.
What am I even talking about? I've been with this man for six years.
I had almost deleted my message, but Joe answered before I could.
HIIII! 😁
He's such a dork, I thought to myself with a giggle.
Wyd?
Nothinggg, hbu??
Do I tell the truth or make a lie to seem productive? In the end, I told the truth.
Missing you.
My heart warmed at Joe’s message back.
I miss you too. ☹️
Are you at your hotel yet?
It took Joe a few minutes to answer, but his reasoning was ironic.
Just got back from checking in actually. Imma head up to my room, take a shower, and then ft you.
Okay, I'll talk to you then! 🫶
Talk to ya then, I LOVE YOU! 🥰
I hearted his message and than sent the sentiment back.
Love you more, baby. 😘
The conversation ended after Joe’s simple but butterfly-inducing text.
Not fuckin’ possible.
——
We were on Facetime for way longer than we should have, but neither of us cared.
The call ended with the usual “I love you more” back-and-forth playful argument.
Joe won in the end, and I can't say I’m surprised because he always did.
After the call ended, I was just lying in bed, my head on Joe’s pillow, just to smell his scent.
I got bored eventually and decided to play around in the closet. Joe always forbade me from trying on his chains, but he wasn't here.
My eyes immediately widened with excitement as I opened the top drawer on Joe’s side of our walk-in closet.
Everything was cleared out except one chain, he probably took them all with him to have options for his fit tomorrow.
“Damn, this is heavy.” - you mumbled
It was the JB9 Nike check chain Joe wore for the AFC Championship in 2022.
One of my personal favorites out of his collection but too iconic to be worn again.
God, he looked so hot that day.
I stared at myself in the mirror, the chain of my boyfriend’s initials and number adorning my neck.
That's when I got the idea.
——
Settling into my bed for the night, I grabbed my phone and giggled to myself as I looked through the pictures recently taken in my camera roll.
Nothing but black lace and that iced-out chain.
——
Next Day
Joe won his game, and sure, I was happy to see him win, but being miles away from him and unable to celebrate with him put a damper on my mood.
I watched the game by myself in the living room, and then proudly watched his post-game conference.
Just a minute after Joe left the media room, I received a text from him.
Did you watch the game?
Of course. Watched your conference too, baby.
Joe didn’t answer for a few minutes, and I thought he might've gone to take his postgame shower, but his text back made me laugh.
I just got made fun of because I was blushing from your text. “You texting yo girl?”
What did you say back? 😂
I proudly said yes. 😁
A few seconds passed before another text vibrated my phone.
Hey, I gotta go shower, though. We're set to get home late tonight, so don't wait up on me.
What if I want to?
You'll wake up with me next to you in the morning either way, so no need to wait for me to get back.
He was right, so I left him alone to go shower.
——
It was around ten o'clock, and Joe had texted me just a little bit ago, saying they were on the bus to the airport.
Out of nowhere, with no context or caption with it, I sent Joe my little experiment earlier.
Attachment: 10 images
When I was left alone with Joe’s chain earlier, I took a little photo shoot with some black lace lingerie and Joe’s chain.
He'd usually take a power nap on his way to the plane, so I was surprised when his response was quick.
Joe sent a picture of himself with his eyes wide and mouth dropped open in shock.
The silly reaction picture made me giggle, but I had no idea that Joe had just pulled his bag onto his lap while on the bus in an attempt to hide the stirring between his legs.
Fucking shit, y/n. I'm getting so hard right now that I might have to rub one out on the plane.
No. 😘
Wdym, no?
How do I word this?
You always get pissed when I get off without you, how about a taste of your own medicine?
I don't get pissed…
Joe, honey.
Please, baby.
No.
Joe sighed and put his phone on his chest, discreetly slipping his hand down his sweatpants to rearrange the erection in his boxers. He's so hard just from the sight of nothing but lingerie and his initials in the form of diamonds on your body.
He so wished he was with you, inside you.
——
When Joe got home, it was really late.
You were already sleeping, so when Joe slipped into the bedroom he made sure to be quiet.
Joe stood there for a few seconds, just admiring how peaceful you looked while sleeping.
A small smile found its way onto his face when he noticed you were wearing his t-shirt and snuggled onto his pillow instead of yours.
After staring for a lot longer than he anticipated, Joe put his bag down and took his sweatshirt off before crawling into bed beside you.
You stirred for a bit, feeling the presence of someone else near you. After moving around for a bit, you were met with a hard chest, but you knew it all too well.
Joe grinned to himself when you snuggled into him, your face against his pec. He ran his fingers through your hair, and soon, you were peacefully sleeping again.
Feeling tired but unable to sleep, Joe discreetly grabbed his phone to see the messages he wasn't able to answer on the plane and his drive home.
You sent him a video?
Joe made sure his volume was down before pressing play on the video. His eyes went wide when he was met with the sight of you fingering yourself.
All at once, Joe’s heart rate picked up, he started sweating, and his cock stirred in his sweatpants.
He didn't need volume to know you were moaning his name with each thrust of your fingers. Joe was able to read your lips.
The sight of your head thrown back, bare chest, and your sweet heat swallowing your fingers had Joe fully erect in a matter of a minute.
He needed you badly.
Joe can admit he was thinking with his dick and not his brain when he shook you awake. In his defense, most of his blood supply was in the wrong head.
“Joey?” - you mumbled
“Shit- sorry I woke you up…” - Joe
“I missed you…” - you
His heart fluttered, and he hoped you wouldn't shift around and feel him. Please just go back to sleep.
In all honesty, Joe felt guilty waking you up with his sexual needs in mind. He felt horrible and selfish.
“Missed you too, baby.” - Joe
You moved around and Joe’s eyes went wide. Please don't feel it. Please don't feel it.
Abruptly, you paused your shifting and looked up at Joe’s face. Maybe she just found a comfortable spot?
It was hard to make out Joe’s features in the dark, but you could see his piercing blue eyes easily.
Unbeknownst to Joe, you'd felt his hard-on as soon as he got it, but you wanted to mess with him, make him beg for it.
Slowly, you reached your hand out and palmed his bulge. Joe bit his lower lip to stop an audible reaction as you started rubbing him.
“He missed me too, huh?” - you giggle
“Fuck- so much.” - Joe
“Take your pants off, Joe.” - You
Joe shed his pants and boxers off faster than the speed of light, all because his girl asked.
Now that he was completely free from restraint, Joe got even harder, and he didn't think that was possible.
You spit into your hand and firmly grasped his cock, a plan forming in your mind as you started to jerk him off.
Joe was a groaning mess, relishing in the feel of your hand around his length because he'd needed this for days.
Precum was beading at Joe’s tip, so you maneuvered yourself around to take him into your mouth.
“Sh-it.” - Joe moaned
He was close, so close.
“Baby- I'm gonna… cum!” - Joe
You pulled off of him, trying to follow your plan of edging him until he couldn't help but beg for you to finish him off, but Joe was too close to stop his inevitable orgasm.
With a loud moan, Joe shot his load onto your face, some making it into your mouth.
Both of you were surprised when it happened, looking at each other with wide eyes.
“I- I'm sorry…” - Joe
“No, don't be.” - you
You reached out and put a hand on his chest, rubbing comforting circles on it.
He grabbed a tissue off of his nightstand and wiped his cum off of your face.
“That was kinda embarrassing…” - Joe
“Why?” - you
Your voice was soft, a little sad yourself that Joe felt embarrassed.
“I don't know, I couldn't stop it from happening, but it happened so fast. Like under three minutes? That's embarrassing.” - Joe
“Joe, don't be embarrassed. How long you last doesn't matter to me at all, I just wanna make you feel good.” - you
He nodded but bit the insides of his cheeks.
“I think it's kinda hot that I can get you off that fast. Makes me feel good about myself.” - you
“Really? You don't think it's funny or embarrassing?” - Joe
“No, baby.” - you
You leaned up and pressed a big kiss to Joe’s lips, one of his legs slotting between yours, causing you to grind down onto his thigh.
“Mmm, Joey baby.” - you moaned
“That's it.” - Joe
——
Next Morning
You woke up with a grin on your face as you replayed last night's events in your mind.
Joe had gotten you off twice with his fingers and tongue before he filled you up with his thick cock.
In the back of his mind, he was still feeling a little self-conscious about his first orgasm of the night, but he wouldn't let it show.
When you two were in the shower cleaning up, you could tell something was on Joe’s mind and that something was what had happened earlier.
Without saying anything, you dropped to your knees when his back was to you. He turned around and looked down at you, his dick stirring to life at the all-too-familiar position.
Despite the fact you two had just gone four rounds, Joe’s craving for you was never-ending.
You'd slowly reached out to stroke him, and you finished him off with your mouth.
He manhandled you back to your feet before pressing you against the shower wall.
“If you want me to stop, I will, but you started this.” - Joe
The feel of his thick length against your behind, and his hands holding you in place was getting you worked up all over again.
“Fuck me, Joey.” - you
You two ended the night giggling in bed as you counted up the number of orgasms shared between you two that night.
“Four for me, four for you, gah-lee!” - Joe
“I’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow morning.” - you
“Fuck I might even have a limp.” - Joe
You were pulled out of your fantasies when Joe walked into the bedroom. Toes curled at the sweet sight of him.
Joe wore nothing but a bashful smile, a pair of sweatpants, and raging bedhead.
“Hi.” - you smiled
“Hi. How'd you sleep?” - Joe
“Good. Get in bed with me?” - you
He did as you asked and curled up in bed beside you, pulling you into his chest in the process.
“Where were you?” - you
“Uh… nowhere…” - Joe
You sat up and looked at him, giving him a skeptical look as you narrowed your eyes at him.
Joe sighed and broke your eye contact.
“I was doing something downstairs. It was supposed to be a surprise after you got ready, but you can come downstairs now.” - Joe
You excitedly jumped out of Joe’s arms and ran out of the bedroom, your hand grabbing his as he followed you.
When you two got downstairs, you saw the dining table set up like a date. Breakfast on both of the plates and a bouquet of roses between them.
Joe walked away from you for a second and grabbed a rose.
He walked back up to you and held the flower in front of his bare chest.
“Go on a date with me?” - Joe
You grinned at your boyfriend so big that your cheeks hurt.
“Of course.” - you
Joe handed the single rose to you, and you stood up on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his smooth cheek.
“Thank god, woulda been really awkward if you said no.” - Joe
“I'd never say no to you.” - you laughed
The blush on his cheeks went deep, almost to the shade of the rose he gave you.
You spent the rest of the morning laughing with the handsome man you loved so deeply, wondering about how you got so lucky, and thinking about your future with him.
You were so grateful to have a man you could laugh with, share secrets with, tell all the drama to, and have intense intimate moments with. Sometimes, all within the same day or hour.
It was scary to realize how much of yourself you put in Joe’s hands, but you trusted him more than anything.
The sweet thoughts and realizations were swirling in your mind and making you smile. You'd been staring out of the window, but your thoughts were abruptly interrupted…
*BURP*
Your wide eyes snapped over to Joe, who was holding a hand over his mouth and shared the same wide-eyed look.
“Sorry, didn't expect it to be that loud.” - Joe laughed
“Gosh, I love you.” - you laughed along with him
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Authors note: GOT IT OUT BEFORE MONDAY! 😆
Request for this fic;
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Hope you enjoyed! ❤️❤️
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deviantly-inspired · 9 months
Text
Dreamling concept
I absolutely love the 600 year slow burn to friendship and then wildfire romance that's in dreamling fics (it's IMMENSELY satisfying) but also, please consider:
after they finally (finally) become friends after 600 years they just... take their time, with romance. They spend years getting to know each other, genuinely, as friends. They don't know eachother, not really, until Dream has held Hob while he sobs over a loved one dying AND when he's seen Hob in his PJs eating ice cream out the pint because his students have stressed him out to the point of needing either ice cream or violence and Hob likes to think he chooses violence less often these days. And Hob doesn't really know Dream until he's heard that awful laugh, some unholy mix between braying donkey and the sound of magma shifting beneath the earth's crust OR until he's watched Dream scowl at the tele because they got to the last episode of "Game of Thrones" and Dream isn't any happier then anyone else is about a lot of those decisions.
And they spend days and weeks and years of being in one another's pockets. Choosing to come together again and again for a pint or a season binge or a silent supporting friend when the weight of living is a little harder. They earn each other's trust, and because they're both a little dense and maybe a lot more walking-wounded, the moment that each of them realizes that the other trusts them is, well, it's something that makes life worth living, for both of them.
Hob realizes Dream trusts him first, something small, something like Hob going to guide Dream out of the way and Dream just goes without any sort of hesitation. Not mountains or meteors could move Dream if he didn't want to, but he just goes to where Hob guides him out of the way so Hob can take the carrots out of the oven. It's enough to humble a man, and Hob might have a little cry over it later, in private, but for now he grins and tells Dream he has to try the carrots with the lamb, he hasn't lived until he's done so.
And Dream is a little slower to realize, I think. Because Hob is pretty open and friendly, it's a bit harder for Dream who's not so good with interacting with people face-to-face, to tell that Hob doesn't really get close to very many people for all that plenty seem to like him. There's a few exceptions, but even they are kept at a distinct distance. And it's maybe something small, like a small party or gathering of some of Hob's friends and it's late and folks are tipsy and Hob just kinda... dozes off against Dream. And Dream doesn't think anything of it, Hob does this quite often but Hob's other friends are immediately very surprised: Hob doesn't sleep in front of others, they explain. A relic from the war/traumatic past/whatever Hob's used to tell them. No matter how late or how tired or even how drunk he is, Hob would rather drive/bus/walk home then sleep where others can see him. You must be pretty special, one of them says. He even fell asleep on you like that: I've never seen him look so relaxed.
And I think that there's something beautiful about the slow, inescapable draw of it. It's like two meteors from opposite ends of the galaxy that have been on a collision course for eons. They both have moments of realizing that they're falling in love. They know it's going to happen, and the tension is slow and sweet and lovely. And there's no need to rush, because there's trust there too. Sometimes they'll meet gazes and they'll know, both of them, in that moment that they're in love. That, someday, what's growing between them is going to be a bloom unlike anything the universe has ever seen before. And they'll smile together and continue watching bad tv dramas or swapping gossip or sharing their pints and maybe their shoulders brush and their touches linger a bit longer that night but it's okay. There's no need to rush. They have forever after all.
And I think also that Dream is just a dramatic romantic enough of a bastard to confess to Hob on June 7, 2089 and i think Hob is just enough of a dramatic romantic to tell Dream that he certainly took his time.
I'm not late, am I, Dream will ask.
Of course not, Hob will laugh, you're exactly on time. We've plenty of it.
And in the Dreaming there will be a quiet warm breeze and gentle sunshowers as in the deepest heart of the dreaming a flower never before seen blooms awake. And in the waking two friends close the gap between them and talk about how Sally next door really needs to stop over watering her flowers she's going to drown the poor things, really.
And then they'll have the absolute longest courtship and engagement of anyone in the universe. There will be entire religions that will rise and fall before they get married. Pantheons will come into existence and be utterly dumbfounded when they're invited to Dream of the Endless and Hob Gadling weddings because weren't they already married? They've been together since the beginning of it all.
It's be great.
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ranhaitanisgf · 4 months
Note
Can I please request the love at first sight trope and seven minutes in heaven for Mikey :) (just an idea but maybe he sees her forms a crush and stuff then he invite her to a party hosted by toman) also I absolutely love your writing I've been binge reading!
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— manjiro [mikey] sano // love at first sight // seven minutes in heaven
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☆ ˎˊ˗ hi anon !! thank you for requesting for my event !! i'm ngl i did nawt kno what i was doin w this ... just kinda cranked this out lawl ... hopefully you all will enjoy anyways !! xoxo
☆ ˎˊ˗ fem!reader
☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 1.1k+
masterlist || 2k masterlist
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you are so nervous right now. 
“hey, don’t worry about it! everyone’s going to love you!” 
“right…” you replied, still feeling nervous as you and mikey stood outside the door. 
you had been confused when mikey first talked to you on one of the rare days he came to school, and you were even more confused when he had invited you to hang out after school. you had only ever spoken to him in passing, so when he invited you to go eat out with him, you were sure that he was trying to play you. 
at first, you didn’t fall for his wily tricks, even when he ended up falling asleep on your shoulder when he was taking the train home with you, (yeah, you definitely didn’t think it was cute…nope…). you had been suspicious of him, wondering if perhaps he’d been dared to try and get you to fall for him, (unfortunately, it wouldn’t be the first time that happened). 
however, when he confessed to you, things changed. 
you hadn’t seen it coming at all, but he casually admitted to having feelings for you while the two of you were walking to get food one day, saying that he immediately had thought you were one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever seen. 
“i’m flattered mikey, but you can stop it now…”
“huh?” 
“you’re probably doing this on a dare, right?” you sighed, furrowing your brows. “you can stop pretending to like me now.” 
“(y/n)-chan, you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen in my life.” mikey responded, his face dead serious. 
“w-what?! stop! how could that even be true?!” 
“it is true. you can choose to not believe me, but i’ll keep telling you until you accept it.”
since that day, you’d been unsure of how to feel about him. you really wanted to believe him and accept that he liked you, but at the same time, you were too scared that he might be trying to prank you. he really did keep his promise of telling you every single day though, which was slowly starting to convince you. 
and so, here you were. 
he had been bugging you to come to a party with all his friends, saying that he wants everyone to meet the girl that stole his heart, (it was a cheesy line, but it made you feel all fuzzy inside). when you finally accepted the invitation, you knew you wouldn’t be able to back out of this when you saw the excited smile on his face. 
“you ready?” mikey asked, bringing you back to the present. he was looking at you with a soft smile, calming your nerves a bit. 
“yeah.” with a nod, mikey opened the door, leading the two of you inside to where everyone was. as soon as everyone caught sight of the two of you, they were immediately staring, making you fidget with a lock of your hair as you stood next to mikey. were you supposed to say something?
also, why were they all sitting in a circle. 
“mikey, good timing! we were gonna play seven minutes in heaven!” a boy with pink hair piped up, (why was he smiling so much?). 
“hah…? everyone here is dudes…” mikey stated, obviously confused. “i thought we were gonna play monopoly!” 
“well, you’re right, so you and your lady friend can go first!!” a boy with long black hair suggested, suddenly standing up and walking towards the two of you. “you don’t mind, right?” he asked you. 
“uh, i suppose not…” you responded, feeling a bit confused as to what was going on. when you looked at mikey, you could tell that he had something he wanted to say to everyone, but didn’t, instead just staring at them with a deadpan face. 
“well, since there’s no complaints, let’s get this started!” someone yelled out, making everyone cheer. without a moment to spare, the boy with black grabbed both of your arms with a gentle yet firm grip, dragging you and mikey towards a nearby closet.  
“oi, just whaddya think you’re-!” 
“shaddup, mikey, you’ll thank us later!”
before you could even think to question what you had just agreed to, the two of you were pushed into the closet, a click! sound coming from the doorknob, leaving you and mikey in darkness. 
“uh…what just happened?” you hesitantly asked. you could hear mikey sighing, beginning to knock on the door. it was to no avail though; they had turned the music back on, blocking out his voice to the outside world. 
“buncha idiots…” he muttered. “it’s okay, they’re just playing a prank, so let’s play along!” he said. through the darkness, you could see him sitting down, gesturing for you to sit down as well.
when you sat down next to him, you weren’t sure what to say. you had been really nervous to come inside and meet everyone, but now you were nervous because you were in this enclosed and dark space, very close to mikey, (you weren’t nervous he was going to do anything, you were just nervous that…actually, you’re going to be too flustered if you think about that). 
“by the way, (y/n)-chan, you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever laid eyes on.” 
“h-huh? why’re you saying that now?” 
“well, i haven’t said it today, right?” mikey asked, seeming to be thinking for a moment. “i don’t think so…” your heart was starting to beat faster; of course, he’d been saying that to you since he’d confessed, but being in such close proximity to him in this situation was making you feel more and more convinced of his feelings. 
“...mikey, you…” you started, your eyes dropping to stare at your fingers in your lap. “you’re the best person i’ve ever met. i really like you.” you finally let out, shutting your eyes in anticipation. 
maybe i shouldn’t have said that…
“woah, seriously…?” you heard him say. you slowly opened your eyes, glancing over at mikey beside you. 
he was looking at you with the most childish and excited expression; you could almost see the sparkles in his eyes as his lips were curled into the most boyish and cute smile you’ve ever seen. 
“are you serious right now? you’re not joking?!” he asked, his voice shaking with nervousness and excitement. 
“no, i wouldn’t joke about that…” you murmured, smiling shyly at him. 
he suddenly moved closer to you, wrapping his arms around your frame tightly as you pulled you close to himself, his face buried in your neck. 
“ahh, i’m so happy right now…” he said, his voice low and soft, (you were trying to not focus on the fact that you could feel his breaths against your skin). 
hesitantly, you wrapped your arms around him as well, relishing in the way that he held you a bit tighter, as if he was never going to let you go. it felt like there was nothing that could affect you while in his arms; all you knew was mikey. 
“thank you for trusting me, (y/n)-chan.”
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Text
I just made myself a cup of a new tea, one from a set that a friend sent me. I was super curious to try it with and without milk in it, so after I take a sip without, I'm going to add milk to my tea.
That may seem like such an inane little story to post on a blog, unless you have an eating disorder. I'm sure many of you know what a big deal milk in tea can be, and what an important act of self-love it is.
It was poured into many of our ears, approaching teenhood in the mid-2000's, not to "drink our calories." For those of us whose restriction was weight-based, many of us practiced filling ourselves with water, with our coffee black and unsweetened whether that was how we liked it or not, and with tea that never contained milk.
Like many people who've struggled with binge eating and with restriction, I struggle with creating anxiety-inducing rules about when is okay to eat, especially if I'm between meals and worrying if I should allow myself a snack, or if it's okay to quench my thirst with anything other than water. This is especially true between meals. For some reason my brain has accepted the "extra" caloric intake as part of a meal, but still balks at the idea of introducing these things independently into non-meal parts of the day. I would like to note that my chronic illness and my body's reaction to food has also influenced this weird relationship between me and my favorite treats, such as a piece of candy, or a beverage that might happen to contain a greater-than-zero calorie count.
But tonight, before bed, I want to try this tea. And it sounds like one that'd be super tasty with milk, as it has cocoa powder and vanilla in the blend. So I let my tea cool in the room with me as I type this, telling myself that I can get up and go back for milk after I taste it.
Now I have gone to the kitchen.
Now I have poured in a splash of milk and tasted. It's soy milk, as regular milk sometimes hurts my stomach and I don't want my sleep to be disrupted. Due to my chronic illness, this is still something I have to think about, and I'll be honest, I hate it. Things like this make it so hard to tell myself I can let go of my food fears, because my brain knows that some of my food fears will turn out to have validity, and so what if they all do?
Now I have poured in another splash. Tasted.
Now I have poured in a third, much larger splash. Tasted.
Oh, this is it. This tea tastes like a warm dessert. But now it's too cool, so I need to microwave it back to its best heat. I used to not want to microwave my food. As a teen I heard a hippie say that microwaves destroy the nutrients in your food because the radiation breaks down their molecular structure. This is absolutely false. In fact, it's been disproven that microwaves break down nutrients any more than other methods of heating food, but for a long time I believed it. And even after I learned the truth, I still found it hard to convince myself it was okay to use microwaves for a very long time.
I have just finished my tea in my room. I took the time to identify that I wanted it. I took the time to truly taste it in several different ways, consider how I felt I wanted it and bring it to those specifications. It wasn't planned for any specific time or day, but I agreed to give myself this the way I wanted it anyway. I've been drinking my coffee with milk every morning, too. I actually like black coffee, but I like it better with milk. And I give myself things throughout the day that I enjoy, to enhance my experience of my existence. Life is hard, and it's okay to allow yourself, to the fullest extent you can, the small joys that bring you through the day.
I wanted to share this with you. I hope you don't feel the crushing weight of morality when staring at a bottle of regular soda and the sugar-free, when you wake up with your morning coffee, when your self-care regimen includes a cup of tea. I hope you practice actively giving yourself the love you need this week. And I hope you give it to yourself exactly the way you need it.
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undead-supernova · 3 months
Text
HIGH TOLERANCE
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Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4
Masterlist
warnings: weed consumption, Steve (derogatory) (not to me, but in this canon sorry), jealous!reader out the whazoo, puke, drinking, horny thoughts, Annie Lennox's (Eurythmics) incredible song "Love Is a Stranger"
pairings: bestfriend!modern!eddie x bisexual!fem!reader
plot: it's everyone's downfall to desire jealousy to go both ways, isn't it?
wc: 5.8k
note: Hope everyone likes it! Been a little preoccupied with some life stuff but I've got a fire under my ass to finish this series and working on other fics hehe
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Part 3: "Volcano Vaporizer"
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“What’re you up to?”
“Since you last asked me five minutes ago?”
“Yup.”
“Still trying to fix my toilet.” Eddie heard a bang. “Ow!”
“You good?”
“Just hit my head again. No big deal.”
Eddie laughed, shaking his head. “I could’ve done it for you if you just, you know, asked.”
“You’re on your break and I kinda need to pee, you know.”
Eddie looked down at his BLT, arms smeared with grease. No amount of soap could take everything off, especially in his brown coveralls. (Plus, his black nail polish had almost been obliterated within the first hour of his shift.) (It was devastating.) He was reclined in the front seat of his van, legs stretched out against the passenger seat, the one he tried not to picture you in.
He thought about his uncle Wayne, how he would’ve been more than happy to come fix whatever the fuck you needed if he had moved here like Eddie wanted. Wayne just didn’t like how big it was, how daunting it would be to start that process over of getting a new home and a new job. It was something Eddie assured him wouldn’t be so bad, but Wayne merely shook his head and told him that he preferred the comfort of Hawkins. Though, Eddie wasn’t so sure if Hawkins and comfort really went together.
Wayne accidentally met you once, two years ago. He’d come for his first (and only) visit. You had accidentally fallen asleep the night before after binge watching Ted Lasso. And to be clear, you fell asleep on Eddie’s bed, not his couch. And to be fair, Eddie really thought you’d be gone by the time they got back from the airport. 
But when he went to show Wayne his bedroom and found you scrolling on your phone… Well.
You introduced yourself and made breakfast. Breakfast. You stayed through your horrible embarrassment in Eddie’s shirt (and boxers) and cooked for everyone. It had gone well, but after you left Eddie had to beg Wayne to believe him that you were just friends.
Even then, there was no way Wayne didn’t already know what Eddie was too scared to say aloud.
“I could always send someone.”
“Who?”
Eddie thought about it but ultimately came up short. “Uh, I don’t know. Someone.”
You let out a breathy laugh. “No, thanks. I think I’ve got it.”
“I’ll see you tonight, though.”
“Tonight?” you asked.
Eddie paused. “Uh, I’m performing tonight? At The Hidey-Hole?” He could hear you let out a low “Ohhhhhh” as he spoke. “I’m bringing that volcano thing…?”
“Oh, shit!” you exclaimed. “You’re right. Glad I can come then. Jesus, I’m sorry for forgetting. I really didn’t want to miss that.”
Eddie smiled. “No problem, Weirdo.” And for some reason, he genuinely began sweating as he started his next question. A proper sweat, starting in his armpits and the crown of his head, threatening to send trickles down his neck and torso. Fuck, he needed a shower.
“Is it cool that I invited Robin…and, uh, Steve?”
You paused. “No, yeah. It’s fine. Sure.”
It hadn’t been a long pause. But it was a pause, one of those that lasted a second too long. A short break in the conversation, a hesitance that held more than just a beat of silence. And now he was wondering what the fuck you were thinking.
“Did you go on that date?”
Eddie couldn’t stop the lump growing in his throat as the question came through. Did he really want to tell you of all people about his subpar date with Steve Harrington? 
But you were still his best friend. He really couldn’t keep it from you.
“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”
“And…how was it?”
Taking another bite of his sandwich, he recounted the night more to himself than you, really. Because, yeah, Steve had been nice. Really nice. A gentleman in every way that mattered. But, to put it simply, it was just fucking boring.
“It went okay, I guess? I don’t know. Steve’s a really nice guy and he’s pretty funny. Good at mini-golf, too.”
“Don’t you, like, hate mini-golf?”
You were right. Eddie loathed mini-golf after an unfortunate accident. He was by the edge of the water, trying to hit the neon green ball into the mouth of a hippo. It was on some date with some girl he was trying to impress, and he was a little too forceful with his swing. He failed to even hit the ball, losing his grip on the putter before dropping it to the ground. Eddie took a step forward, accidentally stepping on the ball. Lost his footing. Fell in the water. Hit his head. Had to be taken to the ER for a couple of stitches. Lost the girl after she had to drive him home.
He felt so embarrassed when he tried to go back a few months later and saw they put up a fence around the water and a sign that said No Swimming. 
“Yes, but I never told him that story.”
You snorted. “Well, why not?”
“What do you mean?”
“If you didn’t want to play mini golf, why didn’t you say anything about it?”
“I don’t know, I guess I wanted to make him happy.”
He could hear you pause again. “So, are you guys, like dating?”
“I wouldn’t say it’s a serious thing.” Was he trying to tell himself this or you? “But I guess we are.”
“Cool.”
Cool? What did you mean by cool? That was half of an opinion, half judgment. Or did you really not care? But you were the one who asked, weren’t you? Did it mean anything that he still wanted you to be jealous, to finally come clean about how you felt and denounce Steve’s advances? 
He looked at the time and sighed. “Shit, I gotta head back. Hold on while I down this BLT.”
“Okay.”
He stuffed the last of his sandwich in his mouth and washed it down with the rest of his Dr. Pepper. 
“OW!” you shouted again. “Fucking fuck, fuck, fuck! I hate this stupid thing!”
Eddie couldn’t help but laugh. “Have fun with your broken toilet, Weirdo.”
“Yeah, yeah. Eat shit.”
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You felt haunted by some kind of fucked up presence as you drove to that dive bar across the city. Knowing that your fears were confirmed… Well, it certainly wasn’t the best feeling, was it? Like the rejection before the rejection. The pre-game. The warmup. 
And you were always asking the wrong questions, weren’t you? Your mind was a pesky little thing, desperate for those deprecating answers to confirm every nightmare you’d had for the past two weeks. They were dating now. And maybe it wasn’t an official relationship yet, but casual dating led to dating and dating led to a relationship and a relationship led to the death of any and all chance with Eddie Munson.
“Love Is a Stranger” blasted through your speakers, the same song you sang at karaoke. The one where Eddie left the table to come and cheer you on, always being your biggest fan. He swayed, raising the roof ever so often to give an added effect. But… Well. What about Eddie and Steve’s performance? What about the way Eddie danced with him, getting closer than you’d ever seen them before?
Steve’s hands. The stumble. The nearly avoided kiss.
And you didn’t want to give in to the dangerous bitterness rising in you. You really didn’t.
But if you saw even a morsel of affection tonight, a mere kiss on the fucking cheek, you were going to throw up.
“'And I want you. And I want you. And I want you so, it’s an
obsession.'”
You groaned. “Get out of my head, Annie Lennox!”
But she, of course, couldn’t hear you. Instead, she was spending every second of that intoxicating beat teasing you, berating you. Making you wish that you’d stayed home tonight, bitter with a 10mg Delta-9 gummy, melting into the couch while watching Schitt’s Creek. At least there you could anxiously daydream about what was going to happen tonight and spiral down an endless well of what-ifs without having to see it. 
But you kept driving.
            “'It’s savage and it’s cruel and it shines like destruction.
            Comes in like a flood, and it seems like religion.
            It’s noble and it’s brutal, it distorts and deranges.
            And it wrenches you up and you’re left like a zombie.'”
You couldn’t help but let out another groan and skip the song.
“Fucking Annie Lennox,” you murmured.
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When you got out of your car, you saw Eddie talking to Gareth, Grant, and Jeff over by his van, Gareth drumming against the pavement. Eddie was nodding along to the beat but turned at the sound of the car door, smile widening. It was like that anxiety dissipated, momentarily overwhelming you with a sense of calm and safety you always felt around him. It was so strange, the way he affected you.
“Look who it is,” you heard Grant say, hitting Jeff’s shoulder before pointing over at you.
“Eddie!” you called out before running over to him, trying to keep hold of your purse.
“Hurry up, Weirdo!” he exclaimed, arms spread wide, quick to catch and lift you into the air once you fell into him. 
It was so strange, the way he moved you.
You let out an exasperated “Ahhhh” as he moved you back and forth, shaking you a few times before putting you back down.
The rest of the band exclaimed your name, hooting and hollering, all rowdy and boyish.
“Lookin’ hot!” Jeff said, throwing you finger guns. You gave him a big smile.
“Yeah, you look so cool,” Eddie said once he had a chance to look you over. He took a step back, as if he were admiring art. Fuck. “The lucky fishnets?” he asked, pinching your thigh. You jumped, slapping his arm.
"Ow! Quit it!" But you still smiled, nodding feverishly. “To answer your question, yes. You know I had to wear ‘em.”
“Hell yeah, dude,” he replied, giving you a hearty high-five that stung. “It’s gonna be a good night.”
And you believed him. You really did.
“Hey, guys!” 
But you lost hope immediately, trying not to turn around at the sound of Steve’s voice. If there was anything that could ruin your night, it was Steve Harrington walking around drunk with loose lips and a penchant for physical affection.
Eddie waved. “What’s up!”
“Just here to rock out,” Robin responded. You turned and watched as she threw up her fingers in the sign of the horns. That made you laugh. She was trying her hardest and you respected that. You also respected how she wasn’t trying to fit in, in a forest green crop top and loose jeans. Her hands were stuffed in a dark jean jacket and had her hair up in a small bun. (In short, Robin was hot.)
“Hey, you look great!” Robin said to you, giving you a hug. “Love the lipstick.”
You were genuinely touched by the compliment. “Thanks, Robin. You look beautiful, as always.”
“Nice fishnets,” Steve noted, pointing to your legs.
You finally faced him, eyes widening when you took in his appearance. Steve was trying harder too, in a Panic! at the Disco Death of a Bachelor album t-shirt and jeans, with a chain in exchange for a belt. If it wasn’t him, that would look stupid. But it was Steve Harrington. He looked cool.
“Um, thank you,” you replied with a small smile.
Steve saluted you before poking Robin. “You should keep Rob company tonight. She invited Vickie, but she got stuck at work.”
Robin rolled her eyes. “And? It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we’re dating or anything. She has a life outside of me.”
Robin looked like she was telling the truth. She genuinely wasn't that upset about it. But Steve couldn't help but take things a little too far.
“Yeah, but you’re like in love with her, dude—"
“Am not! Shut up!”
“Yeah, Harrington,” Eddie agreed. “Let the girl live.”
Steve turned to you again, making your eyes widen. Was Steve wearing a little bit of eyeliner? Did he really put in this much effort to impress Eddie?
“What about you?” he asked. “Are you seeing anyone?”
Without a singular thought about consequences, you said, “Um, well, I’m going on a date tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Robin asked, narrowing her eyes. You knew she was suspicious from the get-go. “That’s very…soon.”
“You didn’t mention it on the phone earlier,” Eddie stated, turning his full attention to you now. You knew he was hurt. You saw it immediately. 
“Oh, yeah, well. We just made the plans like an hour ago and—so, yeah. They’re really cool.”
“That’s great, though,” Steve said, throwing a hand up to high-five you. You glanced over at Eddie’s seemingly blank expression before giving Steve the most pathetic high-five of your life. “You’ve been single the entire time I’ve known you. That’s awesome. Congrats.”
Before you could say anything, Grant was cutting in. “What about you and Eddie, huh?” he asked, smirking over at Steve.
No. No, no, no. Please no. You didn’t want to hear this. Didn’t need to.
But you did.
“Oh, yeah!” Steve laughed, pointing at Eddie. Eddie who was looking away, fiddling with something. Probably his lighter. He was always playing with that thing. 
You turned your attention back to Steve, bracing yourself for the impact.
“Eddie’s been so fun to go on dates with. Seriously, this guy is like a master at mini-golf.” You shot Eddie a look, noticing how he was already glancing over at you nervously. “I can never get the ball through those tiny slots and, seriously dude, you got through that windmill on the first try. It’s unbelievable.”
“That’s awesome,” you said, smiling mischievously. Eddie gave you a look, rolling his eyes. “Eddie’s just a natural at everything. Pinball, D&D, air hockey, and now mini-golf.”
Eddie groaned and you could tell he wanted you to shut up. “I just have a lot of interests. It’s really not that big of a deal.” He let out a small huff before pointing at the band. “Alright, you all go back inside with these two,” he turned to point at Robin and Steve, “because we,” now the finger was on you, “are going to take dabs.”
Everyone laughed at his finger-turned-compass before waving their goodbyes and heading off. The two of you watched everyone file through the door before Eddie turned to you and patted your shoulder.
“Come here, Weirdo. Got something special for ya.”
As he led you over to his van, you noticed his hand brushing your back. You wished he kept snaking his arm around your waist, pulling you in and playing with the lace. Fiddle with it to his heart’s content and give him a reason to keep touching you. Keep getting closer. Even if he was opening the back door of the van and pulling out a device, he could always keep you guys in there. Keep you close, whispering in the dark. Keep his fingers on your dress…
“Alright,” he said, clapping and rubbing his hands together. You shook the image out of your head. “So, I brought this thing called a Volcano Vaporizer. It’s, like, this thing where I put this plastic bag right here and when I melt the wax, it fills the bag with smoke, right?” You nodded, watching him work. “And then I put this orange mouthpiece on and, boom, you just suck the dab out. It’ll give us about three bags which will probably be more than enough.”
“Even for you?”
He smirked. “Even for me.”
“Sick,” you said.
“Here,” he said once it filled up. “First half is yours, humble cleric.”
Snorting, you shook your head. “Always the gentleman.”
You pressed your lips down on the mouthpiece and took it in slow, filling your lungs to the best of your ability. The taste wasn’t even half bad, similar to a regular bong hit, just with a little twist from being wax instead of bud. And the strangest thing happened when you blew out the air: You didn’t cough. Any time you took a dab, you coughed and hacked and lost your mind. Puffcos were your absolute enemy. But this…
“This is the smoothest dab I’ve ever taken,” you said.
He nodded, taking the bag from you and finishing off the first batch. “That’s what I’m saying.”
“How’d you get this?”
“Uh, I won it in a poker game against one of my dealers,” he said as he filled a second bag and took a hit. “I may have cheated, but he doesn’t know that.” You laughed. “It’s usually $700 or some shit like that.”
“An impeccable man,” you teased, taking the half-full bag. “Incredible work, Munson.”
You sucked in the rest of the dab and let the smoke out, noticing Eddie’s eyes directly on you. Reciprocating the eye contact, you grew confused when he didn’t break it at all. In fact, he seemed so much closer than before.
“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you asked.
“Looking at you like what?”
You nudged him. “Like that.”
“What’s their name?”
“Huh?”
“The person you’re going on the date with.”
“Gertrude,” you said without thinking. You swallowed down the urge to bash your head against the side of the van as you realized how utterly stupid you sounded. But you had to commit now. That was the only way out of this. You could only hope Eddie was dumb enough to believe you. “Their name is Gertrude.”
“Gertrude?” Eddie repeated. You nodded. “Sounds cool.”
Sounds cool? Sounds cool? That wasn’t supposed to be his response. Why wasn’t he calling you out for lying? Why wasn’t he exposing you for having a fat crush on him and throwing all of this stupid middle school behavior aside? But even if he did believe you, he was supposed to at least look a little upset by it. In fact, he looked more upset about you not telling him than he did with the fake ass name you made up. It was unbearable. You didn’t want this anymore.
Without hesitation, you reached out to grab his hand. You needed to feel him close, needed to feel the way you always did in his grasp. Safe. Understood. And here you were, seconds from meeting his open palm and saying to hell with all of these stupid games. To hell with keeping everything concealed. There was no Gertrude. There shouldn’t be a Steve. It was just you. It was just him. You were all his.
But there Eddie was, looking away from you and back towards Gareth at the door, waving him over. Eddie gave him a salute in turn.  
“Alright, Weirdo,” he said, patting your knee. He hadn’t even noticed your hand lying limp against your thigh. “I gotta go perform. Finish this for me?” he asked, handing you the rest of his dab. You nodded, giving him the best tight-lipped smile you could without giving away your disappointment. “Alright, don’t forget to lock the van and, oh, by the way, don’t be long. Gotta have my biggest fan in the front row.”
“Like always.”
“Like always.”
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It was actually a really good turnout tonight. Corroded Coffin had finally gotten a spot to play on a Saturday which was a very big deal. The Hidey-Hole may have been a dive bar, but in Atlanta terms, that still meant it was packed on the weekends. At first it had been twenty people, twenty-five tops. Then fifty flooded the space with a bouncer and a line at the door and suddenly Eddie realized how important this was for the band.
So why was it that he couldn’t pay attention?
He couldn’t help but think about you, about this fucking person you were going on a date with. Would you find yourself wanting more? With a cool name like Gertrude, maybe you would. Eddie couldn’t help but flip through facial features and imaginings of who this person was and how their voice sounded and how it would feel if he saw you being kissed by someone else.
And, sure, Eddie was going on dates with Steve. But they hadn’t kissed or anything like that. Eddie wasn’t even sure he wanted to kiss Steve. Steve was pretty—extremely pretty. The kind of pretty that made any boy swoon, and all the girls lose their minds. But Steve just wasn’t someone Eddie wanted to kiss. 
Because you were screaming your head off in the front, jumping and dancing around to his music while Steve stood in the back and bopped his head. You knew every word, every note. You played an air guitar along with him, head banging your way through the set and pointing up at him whenever they got to a part that you really liked. He always shared his lyrics with you first, always shocked when you’d memorize them and squeal about your favorite lines.
He couldn’t help but smile at you, as lost in the music as he was. You were wearing one of his (secret) favorite dresses, a black lace babydoll dress with what you called your lucky fishnets. Specifically, the ones with you wore to whatever gig you could make it to. (Every gig you showed up to always drew in a larger crowd. How you did that, he couldn’t say. He did call you a witch once.)
Tonight, your eyes were lined in black with silver eye shadow and a deep burgundy lipstick. A lover of black, but you always wore it with a smile. Maybe the happiest semi-goth he’d ever met. He loved it—no, more than that. He went absolutely feral for it. It made his heart skyrocket, his mouth run a little dryer than usual. And when he was high like this, tingling with the vibrations of his Sweetheart, he prayed to a God he didn’t believe in that he wouldn’t get a boner onstage. 
But he could see your dress riding up to reveal that your lucky fishnets came attached to garters and Sweetheart was adding juuuuust enough friction and suddenly he had to look away from you, too embarrassed that he fucking popped a boner in front of all these people, that he popped a boner in front of you, with only Sweetheart to keep his secret.
He looked back over to Steve, testing himself. Was Steve able to do the same thing? Could he ruin Eddie on this stage tonight and turn him into a mumbling fool in his bedroom later when he got himself off? 
But…there was nothing. Steve was talking to Robin and offhandedly looked at his phone. Eddie could even see him scrolling. He may have been swaying to the beat, but he was barely paying attention. It hurt Eddie’s feeling, just not in a way that would come from a potential lover.
In the end, he realized there really was only one person he wanted to kiss.
And she was currently going on dates with someone else.  
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That Volcano truly did what it set out to do. You were seeing color after color, the room swirling around you in vibrant shades of red and black. It was all fuzzy and pixelated, vibrating within you. You were being taken on an overwhelming journey, but in a way that was calming. Eddie was right in front of you, giving it his all and basically staring at you the entire time. Or from what you could tell in between dancing and the room spinning you in circles like a merry-go-round.
And, holy hell, Eddie was so fucking hot when he performed. It burned, literally burned inside of you, slowly spreading between your legs. It was all Eddie’s fault, with his bangs sticking to his forehead and sweat rolling down his cheeks like teardrops. In every guitar solo, he bit his lip so hard that you could’ve sworn you saw him draw blood. His fingers hit note after note, charging up and down the neck of his electric guitar. Those hands which, ever so sweetly, used to fit right in yours. 
The callouses on the tips of his left hand, the ones that scratched at your palms whenever you held it. It was always rougher after band practice or when he came down from his apartment twenty minutes late after needing to perfect one of his wicked solos—like the one he was performing now. 
Those hands that you thought about sliding in between your thighs. Opening you up. Teasing you for wearing a garter belt to hold up your fishnets. Leaving little bites along your neck as he questioned why those were so lucky in the first place and asking you how lucky you thought you’d get tonight.
You had to make yourself stop thinking about it, trying to dance your desire away.
But you looked up at Eddie who was looking down at you. And there was something in his eyes, something blown out and downright dirty. You couldn’t help but stare back, giving him a wicked grin before moving your hips around. And if you made sure he could see your garter belt, well, maybe you didn’t care anymore. 
Because you saw his face go red and a smile meet his lips and suddenly you were thinking that maybe there was something more there. ‘Cause he wasn’t looking at Steve. He was looking at you. And when he finished his final belt of the night, he didn’t throw his guitar pick at Steve. He threw it at you.
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“Oh em gee, is that Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin?”
Eddie turned with a grin, watching you comically twisting your foot and pretending to be bashful.
“Hey, you a fan?”
You nodded, batting your eyes. “I’m, like, your biggest fan. You’re so talented. Can I get your autograph?”
He smiled, nodding generously. “Of course, of course. Anything for my fans.”
Giggling, you dropped your act and hugged him. Even at his sweatiest, you never cared. It wasn’t like you weren’t sweaty from dancing all night. “In all seriousness, you were great. Like always.”
“Ah, thanks,” he replied, placing his chin on your head briefly before pulling back. “I really do appreciate it. You were killing it in the crowd.”
You smirked, placing your hands on your hips. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, you give it your all every fucking time.”
You did a little dance as you teetered from side-to-side. “It’s so much fun! I can’t wait for the day you can play somewhere where we can mosh, ‘cause I’ll be the one to start it.”
“You think you’ll be able to handle it?” he teased.
You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Fuck yes I will. I’ll be bloody and gross by the end of it and it’ll be awesome. I swear, you underestimate—"
“Whoo!”
You both turned, watching Steve jog over. And as he approached, you felt all happiness drain from your limbs.
Because Steve had a wide smile on his face and he was fist bumping the air and he was drawing near, excitement flooding his features with flushed cheeks and sweat beading on his forehead and—
Steve kissed Eddie.
He actually kissed him.
And you couldn’t focus on any of the details. 
No, you weren’t going to keep torturing yourself like that.
So, you just…left.
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Eddie pushed Steve back.
“What the hell was that, Harrington?”
Steve laughed. “Can I not kiss you?”
“I mean. I don’t—” Eddie sighed, shaking his head. He looked around the room for you, immediately having the urge to apologize. “I don’t know, man. Sorry.” 
“Listen, I think what you did up there was very, very sexy,” Steve said loudly, placing a finger on Eddie’s chest. 
Raising an eyebrow, Eddie simply nodded. “Uh, yeah, dude. Thanks.”
“Did you wanna get a snack at that diner after you pack up? We could even grab the girls and hang.”
Eddie really wanted to find you instead. He wanted to know if you saw Steve kiss him and if you really thought they were something more. He wanted to ask more about whoever this Gertrude was and if there was a reason you kept this from him until tonight. More than anything else, he wanted to know if you were okay.
But you just…left.
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Your head was spinning, and it wasn’t going to be long before you completely broke down. A pool of nausea rested in your stomach, bubbling up your throat by the second. You made your way out of the bar, the humid air doing nothing to help. Tears collected in your eyes, threatening to spill over and smear your eyeliner even more than it already had during the show. Maybe it didn’t fucking matter anymore. 
The door opened behind you; Robin’s voice heard above the music as she called out your name. You turned then, pausing as she ran over. 
“Hey, you okay?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
You nodded, but it felt more like a shrug than anything else. “Yeah, I’m good. Just need to leave.” Trying to conceal the sniffle, you scuffed your Converse against the gravel. “Steve and Eddie are back inside. Maybe y’all can go out or something.”
“Without you?”
When you finally made eye contact with Robin, you knew she understood. She was giving you that look, the one that called bullshit without having to actually verbalize it. She knew that you knew. You knew that she knew. 
“I’m actually feeling nauseous, so I think I should go home.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah—” you started before leaning over and puking onto a tree. 
Well, nothing was going to sober you up more than that.
You felt Robin’s hands making sure your hair didn’t get in your face. 
“Holy shit, are you okay?”
You nodded as you stood up again. “Yeah, it’s probably the dab.”
Robin crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at you. “You know, Eddie said you felt sick the other week, too.” 
You looked at her with narrowed eyes. Saying nothing, you wiped the vomit from your mouth. Just say it, Robin,you thought bitterly. Just fucking get it over with. Call me out. I dare you.
“Maybe you should, I don’t know, do something about it,” she said, shrugging. “Say something.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at her coded sentence. “Yeah, maybe. Thanks, Robin. Have fun with Eddie and Steve. I’ll see you later.”
Rushing off to your car, you tried to keep your sobs from spilling out from your mouth. And if anyone saw you, well, you couldn’t quite seem to care anymore.
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Steve and Robin kept the conversation going as they sat in the little 24/7 diner down the street from The Hidey-Hole. Eddie was bored out of his mind. Robin told him that you got sick from the dab and decided to go home. And, sure, that might be the reason you left. But in the middle of a sentence? In the middle of a conversation? Without saying goodbye?
It wasn’t like you at all.
Eddie tried to focus on shoveling eggs and hash browns into his mouth, washing everything down with black coffee and a helping of chocolate milk. The high was coming down with each bite. He didn’t care anymore. It wasn’t fun if you weren’t there to tell him you didn’t want chocolate milk before stealing his. It wasn’t fun if you weren’t ordering two plates of food and swearing you would finish everything before begging him to eat half of it. 
It just wasn’t fun without you.
Steve nudged him. Eddie looked up reluctantly. He wanted to say something snarky and rude about how Steve was barely paying attention and how stupid it was for him to pretend he had when he kissed him. He wanted to scream at Steve that you were more engaged than he was and what excuse did he have when they were supposed to be going out. He wanted to push his way out of the booth and go track you down.
Instead, he asked, “What?”
Steve pointed up at himself. “Did you like the eyeliner? I think it added a nice touch.”
That had been the first time Eddie even noticed. “Oh, yeah. Yeah,” he stumbled, scrambling for a white lie. “It looks good, dude.”
Eddie didn’t last much longer after that. He waited for the waitress to come by, nearly begging her for his check and getting the fuck out of there before Steve and Robin could suggest going with him. He stalked back to his van, the band already packed up and gone for the night.
With a sense of false hope, he looked over at the spot your car had been in, now taken by someone else. 
Maybe he should’ve ran outside to find you before you slipped away.
When he started out of the parking lot, he could’ve turned on something heavy. Something to make his ears bleed and the fuzz to distract from the incessant thunder and lightning in his head. 
Instead, he searched for that song you sang at karaoke. That Eurythmics one that you adored so much, always a sucker for some dark Eighties-esque synth. The strength of the lead singer, all tough and frustrated before saying the most bittersweet shit he’d ever heard. 
And so, he listened to it, weaving through the streets and banging on his steering wheel with every red light. Road rage turning the thunder and lightning into something more intense, something more vicious. He couldn’t help but wish his lips were on yours as he thanked you for wearing your fishnets and desperately clawed at the garters underneath your dress. Worshipping you in the hush of the night. Without Robin. Without Steve. Without fucking Gertrude.
“And I want you. And I want you. And I want you so it’s an
obsession.”
The lines kept repeating themselves, over and over with each chorus. Echoing his feelings, ruining him from ever escaping these fucking thoughts of something else. A future, a moment in time where he had you and everything was allowed to make sense again. 
“Annie Lennox,” he said, sighing and clucking his tongue. “Fucking Annie Lennox.”
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When you stepped inside your apartment that night, you couldn’t help but let out a scream, walking over to the kitchen table and kicking a chair over. Tears slid down your cheeks, gushing and spilling over. None of this was how it was supposed to be. None of this made any fucking sense anymore.
Eddie didn’t want you. He never did.
He wanted Steve. And you didn’t have to like it, but god dammit you had to endure it.
It was so strange, the way he could break you.
You fell to the floor, trying to physically hold yourself together. But you could feel the guitar pick still in the pocket of your dress, growing heavier by the second. You pulled it out and tried to look at it through the tears, accidentally smearing eyeliner on the damn thing.  
Annie Lennox’s voice sat in your skull, repeating her demented lyrics over and over.
            “It’s guilt edged, glamorous, and sleek by design.
            You know it’s jealous by nature, false and unkind. 
            It’s hard and restrained and it’s totally cool.
            It touches and it teases as you stumble in the debris.
            And I want you.”
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Taglist: @mrsjellymunson
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c1eepypas1a · 20 days
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Can you do some dark Dean Winchester smut? With an age gap, daddy kink, and virgin reader?
A/n: I can only try, this is my first smut pls don't make fun, plus I dunno how to do the writing color change thingy, cringe ahh title name.
Parings: dean Winchester x fem! Virgin!sub! Reader (I can do a male version if it's not supposed to be fem)
Warnings: age gap (dean is 29 reader is 18, daddy kink, dean forcing reader to call him daddy/dean calling himself daddy, non-con, pain for the reader, forced oral (m!rec), tit palming/slapping, slight choking, kissing, swearing, obviously Dom!dean and sub!fem! Reader, nipple play (for like a second), crying, blood (slightly yk since she's a virgin)
"Please, don't...daddy."
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*gif isn't mine I got it from Pinterest*
*readers pov*
Me and dean have been friends for awhile now, he thinks I'm stupid, that I don't know about all the staring or lingering touches when he's fixing up my wounds, I hate the looks, I remember when it all changed, when he changed
*flashback*
I smile as I walk into my house with jo, I jump as everyone shouts surprise at me,my dad, bobby singer walks up to me "wow kid, the big 18, do you feel older yet." He smiles warmly and I smile "uh, yeah I guess." I giggle, dean makes a backhanded joke about me finally being legal,
Sam rolls his eyes "dude, your almost thirty, stop being so gross, you knew her when she was in pigtails." Dean grumbles and hands me a present, telling me to open it later when nobody's around and his hand lingers on my shoulder,
That night I open the gift dean gave me, a fucking vibrator, in the shape of a rose and a photo of him, gripping his clothed hard cock, I quickly throw it under my bed along with the vibrator and I pretend nothing ever happened.
*end of flashback*
I walk into the motel room, I look at dean who's binging through channels on the tv "where's Sam?." I sit down next to him, "gone to get food." I nod and I continue to watch the tv, dean lands on a horror movie,
My eyes wander to the hand he placed on my thigh, I don't move it nor I say anything and I get back to watching the shit gore on the tv, "you know sweetheart, sammy's gonna be gone for a while." He says in his usual flirty tone, his hand sliding more up, I push his hand back down, "so what if he's going to be gone." I say feigning my clueless tone, bile rises in my throat as I feel his eyes move down from my face to my tits, "means we could find other things to do then this shitty ass movie." He grips my thigh tighter, borderlining on pain "d-dean what the fuc-" I'm cut off by his lips on mine,
I try to push him away and get up but he pins me down and he tsk's "no, your not going anywhere, I've waited to fucking long for you, I'm not letting you go now." He smirks and starts to undo and push down his jeans "as much as I want your cunt, I'm gonna use your mouth first."
He manhandles me so I'm on my knees, tears sting my cheeks and he smiles condescendingly, "oh baby, you started this, this is your fault, parading in your short shorts and your tight shirts, wearing no bra thinking I won't notice." He says, gripping my hair with one hand and palming my tits and thumbing at my nipples with the other, against my mind praying for this to stop, my body reacts, my nipples getting hard and my cunt getting wet, he smirks at me, pushing down his jeans, leaving himself in his boxers, the imprint of his dick visible,
He stops palming at my breasts and pulls his boxers down, his hard cock slaps against his stomach, leaking pre-cum at the angry red tip, "open up for daddy." He smirks but I don't, I keep my mouth shut and he gets visibly annoyed, he grips my hair tighter and then his other hand closes my nose, "c'mon baby, you gotta breathe soon." He says in a condescending tone,
I try my hardest but I finally open my mouth to breath, he quickly shoves his cock down my throat, I gag and spit forms around my lips and his length, he lets go of my nose and I try to breathe but its hard, "you know, this all could of been avoided if you didn't play fucking coy with me.", he says as he practically skull fuck's me, gripping my face and hair, thrusting his hips roughly,
After about 5 minutes he finally pulls away, I take a deep breath of air,tears streaming down my face, he roughly pulls me up against him, his cock against my clothed stomach, he pushes me down and sits in between my legs, trying to push my shirt up but I twist and I turn to get away, "c'mon babygirl, the less you resist, the less it'll hurt your little virgin pussy." I whimper at those words,
After what felt like forever of struggling, he finally gets my clothes off of me, leaving me in my panties, "lace...it's like you asked for me to fuck you.", I cry at those words "c'mon baby tell me how much you want this, tell daddy how much you want his big cock to stretch you open." He grins sadistically, I stay silent and dean doesn't like that, I feel his hand strike my left breast, "say it!." He shouts in my face, I whimper and I finally speak with a scared tone, "i-i want d-daddy's big cock to stretch me open." He smirks, "that's a girl.",
"please don't...daddy."
That's all I can say hoping that will please him but before I know it he thrusts into me, pain shoots through my whole body and I start to cry again "awe, baby don't cry, daddy's got you." He says as he fuck's me faster, taking away the one thing I thought I could control, but I can't, I'm helpless as he takes it from me, I feel liquid down at my pussy and I look down, I notice the crimson liquid leak down my cunt,
"I fucking knew you would bleed, don't worry sweetheart, it won't hurt that much anymore.", he says as he fuck's me harder, it hurts, no pleasure from it, I beg for him to stop, I cry to god that it'll be over soon and before I know it, I feel him pull out and his cum spurt on my tits and stomach, I feel dirty as dean kisses me before he flops down beside me and cuddles me, like he didn't just destroy me, exhaustion takes over me, before I slip into sleep I hear dean mutter something and I fall asleep.
*the end*
(a/n: my first smut, I hope it was good, if there is any mistakes or anything you didn't like please tell me, I'm sorry it's so short, I wrote this at 1am.)
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Aita for blocking a friend on instinct? So i (f16) have this friend, (m16) we can call him D, who i've been friends with since kindergarten.
About a year ago, i started growing very close to D through our friend group's dnd campaign we held every friday. I knew him for a long time but that was the first time we had started hanging out out of school. We were talking on snapchat every night just chatting and after a while he started to send much more... revealing snaps. Just his bare shoulders but like without a shirt. He said it was because he had to let his medication for his back dry. I was a little uncomfortable, but we were friends so i didnt think that it would escalate into anything weird.
After about a month, D starts sending snaps in a towel and pictures of his chest which made me very uncomfortable. I kind of let the chatting die down after that because it was the only way i could think of that would be enough to gently let him down easy (i was wrong). I stopped going to the hangouts with that group and kind of distanced myself because how uncomfortable D made me. This only made D try harder to get my attention.
I was still friends with the others in the group so i would often have one-on-one hangouts with the others and watch tv. One thing we watched was Miraculous and we laughed and joked about it all the time. D overheard us or something and went home and binge watched the entire series in a week. Then everytime i ate lunch with that friend group, D would always make direct references to Miraculous or sing the theme song really loud. This wasnt once a day, D would make miraculous references every single minute. He became obsessed with the show (which, for reference of how weird it was, D is a very religious Christian boy. He gets upset if he gets an A- and never drinks caffeine (no problem with any of those things but just understand that kind of guy being deep within the fandom of Miraculous out of all shows 😭)). It was so bad, and it once again was making me very uncomfortable.
Eventually, it got to an insufferable point where D changed his route to go home and made sure to pass me every day after school and wave. I started avoiding him in the halls, he would always ask obscure questions that werent that important. I couldn't understand why he couldn't get that i didnt want to be friends with him anymore so i set boundaries.
A text i sent to D: i apologize if i ever caused any misunderstanding, but i would like to make it clear that im not romantically interested in you. i can see that you have been trying to grow closer, but i dont feel the same way. i don't appreciate being followed around, and i dont like when people force themselves to like the same things i like. its not attractive to be a copy of someone. i enjoy being your friend but it's difficult to disregard these things. if im being totally honest, when you do things like this, it makes me really uncomfortable and borderline creeped out. i know crushes wont disappear overnight but i would appreciate more space. if youre looking for a girlfriend, this isnt the right person, nor the right way to get it. and i wont tell anyone about this so dont worry about word spreading or anything. thank you
D's response: Oh, I'm so sorry I made you think that! I don't have a crush on you, I just noticed how you don't hang out with our friend group as often and I just wanted to make sure that I was being as nice as possible to make sure you weren't mad at us or anything. I did start to think that maybe me trying all that made me seem clingy or annoying, so I'm really sorry for all of that. Thanks for bringing this to my attention, I'll try to do better now!
This didnt sit right with me because after all of that i cannot fathom how that translates to "i wanted to include you". This made me question a lot about the situation.
Reasons i feel like i MBTA: i'm over thinking things and D could be a genuinely a nice person. Its hard for me to read the room and i need to work on that and probably apologize to D.
Reasons i feel like i MNBTA: i should trust my instincts rather than ignore them. I've had a psychological abuser in my family before and the situation could be a stalker behavior that i've learned is not ok to have.
What are these acronyms?
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pilotispunk · 2 years
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Can do a story where Steven overstims the reader and makes her squirt for the first time 🤭🤭🤭🤭
It’s time for another appearance of Professor Steven Grant.
Rating: Explicit, 18+
Content: overstimulation, dirty talk, age gap, student/teacher relationship, spanking, pussy spanking, squirting
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A lazy fall Sunday afternoon could’ve been spent binge watching tv in your dorm with a half-open window, greeting the embracing chill. You could’ve been on the lawn with your roommate, who invited you out with friends of friends to smoke joints and drink wine until it got dark. Hell, you could’ve called home to tell them everything was okay, college was gee terrific grand and that it was everything you thought it would be and more.
But on this Sunday afternoon at 2 PM, you find yourself half naked, pleated skirt hiked up as Professor Steven Grant finger fucks you into oblivion. Your hands are currently useless, fashioned into the tie you noticed from last Wednesday’s lecture on a pipe hanging above his desk.
Papers are scattered everywhere and you’re currently fucked out of your mind and entering a state of bliss you didn't know existed. The only thing you can hear is the sounds of your wetness as Steven's thick fingers enter and exit you shallowly, his palm hitting your clit hard.
It feels so good you don't want it to stop but you also don't want to lose control. He feels too good and he's hitting your walls with such intense pressure you feel yourself building, building, building.
"Fuck you're taking my fingers so well. I have to get you ready for my cock, I need to feel this wetness around it." Steven groans.
"Please don't stop, Professor Grant." You groaned, neither of you admitting how mad it drives the both of you calling him by his formal name. Knowing how inappropriate and dirty this all is. It just makes him more feral.
He grabs your ass tightly, giving it a hard smack as he crashes his lips into yours. He forces his tongue into your mouth as you moan with entry.
"I need you to say that when you come. I'm desperate for it. I need something to think about when I see you at your desk, me dying to touch this pussy but I can't." Steven grits into your mouth.
He quickly crouches down between your legs. He moves at a pace with his fingers that makes you unable to produce sound. You feel your muscles tensing and you're about to release in any moment.
But then he takes his other hand, slapping roughly at your clit, he puts a hard pressure on it that's too much to take. You want to scream.
You don't realize until Steven is chuckling to himself that you are screaming. You're relieved campus is empty but if someone caught you, submitting your pussy to Professor Steven Grant you'd let them see it. Let them see how much he owns you.
"Let it go, love." He begs.
"Professor Grant!" A burst of liquid comes out of you as Steven lets out a loud, guttural groan. He opens his mouth to taste your spill, humming to himself and singing praises.
You're immobile with shock. "I've never done that before." You pant to him. He moves back up to your lips, biting the lower.
"Well, it certainly won't be the last."
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aloneinthehellfire · 3 months
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aloneinthehellfire's fic recs: steve harrington
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I've recently been obsessing over so many steve fics that I thought, why not put them in one place for everyone else to enjoy! I'll try and update this as much as I can but for now, if you're on this list, just know I have been stalking your account ;)
show these the love they deserve!
Like It's Love [series: ongoing] by @upsidedownwithsteve
soulmate au, steve and reader find eachother in ever life - this series is already heartbreaking but written so beautifully!
because of you [series: ongoing] by @crappymixtape 18+
an enemies to lovers fic set in st4 - immediately obsessed with the interactions between the characters *chefs kiss*
you and i (back at it again) [one-shot] by @lighteyed
set immediately after the battle of starcourt, reader shows up for steve when he has no one else - I genuinely bawled my eyes out
orange juice [one-shot] by @sattlersquarry 18+
post st4, steve is grieving over reader but soon discovers he doesn't have to move on - it's hard choosing just one fic but this one is truly a masterpiece, it is my roman empire
Adventures in Babysitting [series: ongoing] by @worth-the-chaos
stranger things reader insert, acquaintances to lovers - when I tell you I binge read all the chapters available since the new year, I mean I sat for a whole hour and just consumed, I love it so much
I'll Be There For You [series: ongoing] by @supernovafics 18+
roommate au, best friends to lovers - I recently fell in love with what I assumed to be a one-shot until I discovered there is a whole universe of these fics to read, I highly recommend if you want to feel giddy :)
"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." [series: ongoing] by @sheisjoeschateau 18+
post st4 dystopian au, enemies to lovers, reader is murray's niece! - I should probably warn everyone that if you do start reading this... your entire brain space will be occupied by the INCREDIBLE writing and storyline this fic has to offer. I am obsessed. (unhealthy)
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I will be back to update more! As for now, I hope you enjoy reading!
aloneinthehellfire's masterlist
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littledollll · 1 year
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Hiya! Love your writing and I've been Bing reading all of your stuff!I was wondering if yiu would write Brienne x Femme reader? I love the idea of the reader having like a pre existing relationship with brienne and she confides in brienne about being frustrated she can't find men attractive and Brienne asks her if she's ever found anyone attractive and the reader gets shy and they eventually end up being all fluffy and maybe smut? Brienne in a strap?
Clueless
Brienne of Tarth x reader
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A/n: lowkey think I want my Brienne fics to exist in the same universe (being “Only you”) so ima do that unless it’s requested otherwise
Warnings: really just fluff and love confessions, smut, strap ons, oral (R receiving)
You were waiting for Brienne to get back from the bathhouse in her quarters, mindlessly looking through her stuff just trying to pass time when she came in, hair slightly damp and messy, comfortable clothes and towel around her neck, gods she looked so good- “what on earth are you doing?” Her voice interrupted your thinking as she caught you standing over her desk looking through her things. “Uhh obviously making sure your room is up to code, kings orders!”
“Oh yeah? You wouldn’t happen to be snooping around my personal belongings” her tone was teasing, as she closed the door behind her, crossing her arms. Her voice drove you mad. You played it off though. “Snooping? Me? Neverrr” “looking for something you need?” A genuine question now. “No, really I was just curious and passing time, just waiting for you.” You answered truthfully, before throwing yourself on her bed and turning to look at her.
Brienne tilted her head. “What’s on your mind?” “I can’t believe you said the word ‘snooping’” you laughed. She rolled her eyes at you, also making her way to her bed before sitting down, you laid opposite directions, you fully on laying on the bed while Brienne’s back was against the footboard. “I apologize for my informality, princess.” She joked but looked at your serious again. “Now tell me what you’re actually thinking about” you groan and roll over hiding your face in her pillow “24 years, Bri, I’ve been dating men 24 years, and I’m starting questioning if I’m even attracted to them“ did you causally just come out to her?
“You’re not, I thought we knew this” She replied, You threw the pillow at her. “Don’t be mean! Also what do you mean..” she caught the pillow and placed it back on the bed. “Well none of your relationships have worked with them, you’ve never had a sexual encounter you’ve enjoyed-“ you hid your face again. “how can you say that so casually!” She grinned. “That’s what I used to think when you came to me to talk about it, we’ve come full circle”
“I was going to apologize but I’m not that sorry.” You said, meeting her eyes, after a beat she spoke up again. “So what do you find attractive?” Was she going for a record on how many times she can make you blush or something? “I don’t wanna talk about that, Bri-“ she interrupted you. “It’s me. If not with me then who else are you going to talk to, I need names incase I’m being replaced.” You exaggerated a gasp acting offended. “I would never! How dare you think so low of me.”
“Tell me then.” Brienne grabbed the pillow she previously put down and put it on the footboard, leaning her head back and humming. “I really don’t think I should-“ she sighed in fake annoyance. “By gods, if you don’t just spit it out already-“ you sat up in preparation and took a breath. “okay fine it’s you! You and your stupid messy hair, your voice, who you are compared to me versus the rest of the world, how protective you are, how I have to tilt my head to look at you, the tone you use whenever we have playful banter and the way you just- exist. It’s you. I like you. Actually I love you.”
“Dammit that feels great to say out loud actually!- And I know, I know you’re my guard and friend and it’s so inappropriate and you probably don’t feel the same way-” one minute you were rambling and the next her lips were on yours, pulling you into a bruising kiss, to which you eagerly responded, wishing to get closer, you moved into her lap, arms wrapping around her neck. When you pulled away you were both panting, Brienne looked at you with pure adoration before speaking. “I hope that clears any doubts you might have had about my feelings towards you?”
You rested your forehead against hers, smiling. “I don’t know Bri, might need a little more reassurance..” She hummed, pushing you to lay on the bed before she walked off, opening one of her drawers she pulled out a strap-on, the visible surprise on your face made her chuckle. “Undress.” Of course you complied, she undressed along with you and put the toy on, crawling over you on the bed, she made you feel extremely small, you loved it.
“I’ll guess you didn’t have much time to pry around my room that well, princess.” Not waiting for you to reply, she gave you a quick peck before moving down your body. “m- no I didn’t-“ once she reached your center she looked up at you, silently asking for permission, you gave her a nod. Brienne wasted no time, immediately her lips were sucking your clit making you whimper and grind against her. She snuck two fingers into your entrance, stretching you out, she pumped into you a few times before adding a third, making you scream.
She allowed you to ride her face as you got close and closer to your release but she pulled away just in time to prevent it. “No no no please-! Bri I was so close!” She kissed your navel, crawling up to meet you, her hand smoothed over your cheek as she kissed you again. You moaned as you tasted yourself on her tongue, needy hips grinding against the strap that was resting between your legs. “So needy.. I’ll make you scream, princess.”
Her arms rested on either side of your head as she aligned herself and slowly pushed into you, you sighed as she bottomed out. Briennes head rested between your neck, marking your shoulder and collarbone as she started pounding harder and faster into you. Your nails scratched her back at her reckless pounding, making her moan, you could hear the bed bump against the wall and almost screamed when one of her hands started rubbing your clit.
“Please oh- please let me cum please I need it-“ she complied, speeding up her thrusts until she felt your thighs clench around her, she kissed you, muffling your scream as she slowly came to a stop with you shaking beneath her. She pulled out and took off the strap before laying beside you and pulling you to lay on top of her, hand soothing your back as you recovered from your orgasm. She kissed your head when you nuzzled further into her neck. The silence was comforting, you were falling asleep when you heard her speak. “I love you too, my love.”
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