#fuck off go cough somewhere else

[genderqueer-hippie]

Send help there's a loud man in the living room proudly declaring that "SMOKING IS FINE MARLBOROS WON'T KILL YOU MY GRANNY SMOKED TIL SHE WAS EIGHTY JUST LET ME COUGH VIOLENTLY FOR A FEW SECONDS BEFORE YELLING ABOUT SCIENCE BEING GARBAGE"

This is why I don't interact with my neighbors. These people are so stupid it's embarrassing.

And yeah this dumbass is harmless, all things considered. He's just loud and dumb. Now get the fuck out of my house.

#like wtf why #go away i don't care if my mother let you in #fuck off go cough somewhere else #kinda hope he mentions his love of turnip so i can rage #omg i typed out turnip not trump he is now forever known as turnip

[silverislander]

welcome to the quiet section, the part of the university library that is quiet, the no talking area of the library where you can't make noises. we've got

person on a zoom call with family speaking what i think is very loud korean

someone who tragically seems to not own headphones listening to the world's most boring audiobook reading

the open meeting room for staff at the back who never appear to understand they're in the quiet section

someone who is either playing a video game or physically fighting their laptop keyboard, i cannot tell which

two people having a drawn out loud "whispering" bitch session abt a course they're taking

somebody humming. not even a song, just fucking noises

#I AM IN HELL #there are signs everywhere literally with MAPS showing where is quiet where is silent and where to go to talk #and i mean EVERYWHERE #and the cell phone/talking areas are like a 1min walk from here and accessible. fucking come off it #levi.txt #its such a fucking pain in the ass can even one of you shut your fucking mouths or go somewhere else #the study rooms are just little booths without roofs so people dont seem to realize they are not private. or soundproofed #im at the point where im pissed off when people cough. stfu or leave #if you cant be quiet dont come up here! my brother knows he cant be quiet bc of his tourettes so he just doesnt go here #its so easy

[vanderilnde]

HELLO HELLO HI!!! just read your butcher!simon and i’m. in LOVE??? maybe you could continue about reader like. keeps running into him at the Worst Times (running late going somewhere looking like shit, barely awake or crying in the elevator idk LOL) and he’s just like 🤨🤨??? OR reader tries to make small talk with him since they usually get off work at the same time but simon being simon he’s just like. hm. or grunts HE’S TRYING! BUT HE’S JUST a bit socially inept… oRRR reader bakes and had some leftovers and decides to give extras to simon and he’s like. Okay . and pretends that he’s not amused but secretly loves it SO CUTE AAGHH can’t think of anything else but penny for your thoughts? teehee LOVE YOUR WORKKK

ARGHHHH socially inept butcher!simon is so cute. i wanna build a shrinking machine and zap him with it and fossilise him in amber <3

-

Dusk has eclipsed Manchester, draping a greyscale blanket over the city by the time you enter the laundry room with a hamper tucked under your arm.

That was fifteen minutes ago. And since then, you’ve been trying to get the damn washing machine to work.

It’s an old hunk of junk. Repurposed scrap metal with duct tape lining its corners and a dog-eared note hanging above it, reading, Do Not Overload! in crude writing.

You bend your thumb into the start button for the umpteenth time, but it’s fruitless. The feeble machine rumbles to life, sputtering, then has its embers killed as it fails to continue running.

You angrily huff. Your eye bags are as laden as your muscles, heavy and weighed down with the stress of everything piling up. Job hunting; the constant maintenance your neglected flat needs; the abrasive attitude of your new neighbours.

Fleetingly, you consider moving back home. But before the rumination snatches you, you snuff it out with a swift, irritable kick to the drywall next to you, your toes bending with the impact, the pain crawling up your marrow.

“Bit uncalled for, don’t you think?” Chimes from behind you, and you swirl around, coming face-to-mask with Simon. You hope he can’t see your dewy waterline.

“Don’t believe that wall ever did nothin’ to ya,” he tacks on.

The cellophane of the plastic bag he holds—which you presume carries his laundry—crinkles as he clenches his hand. He’s swathed in sweatpants and a compression shirt, slick with a wisp of sweat, and lets his curls sit freely, its tint somewhere on the threshold between rustic cocoa and gilded blonde.

Simon’s words belatedly catch up to you. You heed his attempt at a playful inflection, unsure if it was meant for you or for him, and flush when you see how expectantly, and bluntly, he’s eyeing you.

You listlessly gesture to the washing machine. “It isn’t working.”

His grunt is prefatory. Simon walks towards the machine, poises a fist over it, and brings his hand down on it in three, sparse punches.

The machine coughs out exhaust, then burgeons into a smooth run.

“Not broken,” Simon grumbles, his words barely lucid beneath his Manchester lilt, “just fucking old.”

“I see,” you mumble, “thanks.”

Simon steps back and begins unloading his own laundry. He stuffs wads of clothing, all imbued with blood and the scent of meat, into another machine.

A pinprick of gluttony tugs your stomach. To say something, anything, to keep the conversation warm.

“The mask…” you begin, “is the black mold in your flat that bad?”

Simon turns to you, his eyes deadpan. It sends icy humiliation up your spine, leaving you pettish.

The hum of the washing machine loosely offsets the thick embarrassment in the room. Loud and tinny.

Beneath the rumble, however, a small, barely-there chuckle crosses Simon’s tongue. “Ha,” he says. It’s charitable at worst and genuine at best.

“… I should go… while my clothes’re washing,” you mumble, your cheeks hot with embarrassment.”

You’re past the threshold, stepping into the corridor, when Simon calls after you.

Your lungs stutter and stop. You want him to ask for your number, ask you out to lunch some time, but when you turn around, you feel like you’re falling.

An ornamental pair of panties dangle from Simon’s forefinger. It’s lacy, gauzy, and should be lying on the floor of your flat.

You burn a searing molten as you snatch it from his hands, mortified, and sprint towards the lift.

You turned around before you could see it. A caper in Simon’s eye, the barest implication to something more than a maladroit interaction: an amused, titillating smirk beneath his mask.

#simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod mw2 #butcher!simon #simon writing #writing

[ellastone-olsen]

Would it be possible if you could do a g!p wandanat x female reader with sex pollen?? Its okay if you cant, just an idea if you have nothing else to write🫣🤭

Blue glow - WandaNat

DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORKS. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY

Summary: Curiosity and alien flowers work wonders.

Pairing: G!PWandaNat × fem!R

Warnings:NSWF,SMUT SMUT SMUT, handjob, blowjob, breeding kink, threesome, cockwarming, dirty talk, after care

DISCLAIMER: ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE SORRY FOR GRAMMAR OR SPELLING MISTAKES

Word count: 1.7k

AN: hi anon! I’m glad to see my first request thank you! honestly, until that moment I didn’t know what sex pollen is and I had to turn to google lmao

"What is that?." You asked looking at the strange plant in the pot. "Have you decided to take up gardening? Tony, I thought you weren't old enough to act like my grandma." You stop laughing when the man looks at you sternly, apparently not appreciating the jokes about his age. “This, by the way, is a plant unknown to science (at least on Earth), which I personally grew from seeds strictly for research and not what you just said.” “Okay let’s say it’s like this, let me take a closer does it smell like something?” You also kept a couple of cacti in your room at the Avengers headquarters, which recently bloomed by the way. As soon as you stood up and approached to the pot, a man blocked your way. “Are you crazy, what did I just say? Don’t touch this thing, I don’t know if it’s poisonous or not.” You looked at him sternly and muttered under your breath so that he could also hear, “You said not to touch, not to smell.” The attempt failed.

late Friday evening. Everyone went to their rooms or left the headquarters altogether. There was silence everywhere, only the sounds of Wanda’s steps were heard somewhere in the corridor. The woman had almost reached her destination when she saw some kind of blue glow in the darkness, “What the fuck...”. She came closer and examined some kind of plant that vaguely resembled a flycatcher, but with more spherical “traps.” Then she suddenly remembered...

“Y/N, Natasha, come here let’s hurry up. Y/N, you told me about something in Tony’s office. Check it out, Natasha take a look too.” Apparently the witch was very impressed by the flower, because she excitedly pulled both of you by the hands towards the light source. And where did she get this passion for flora…

“Wanda, we were already getting ready to go to bed, what did you see there?” Nat suddenly fell silent, looking at the strange light. “Did you seriously drag me out of bed for this succulent or what is this?!” She clearly did not share the witch's interest. “Oh, you’re right, this is the flower I told you about. Tony takes such good care of it, and apparently it’s...bloomed? Let’s take a closer and look, it’s cool,” Nat rolled her eyes but followed you two. You raised your face to the flower, wanting to look at it, when suddenly... the ball of the bud opened releasing pollen into the air, apparently from which the light came.

There is absolutely everything around in this stuff, you can hear Natasha’s exclamations: “Don’t breathe in this, it can be poisonous. Damn it, I told you not to come here.” The three of you cough, covering your faces, and go out into the corridor, shaking yourself and each other from the remaining dust. “Now you make me need to take a shower again.” The woman grumbles something else while Wanda calms her down, you also want to answer, but suddenly this feeling comes.

If there was a mirror in front of you right now, you could appreciate how quickly your pupils are dilating, as if you were a drug addict on a high (technically you were), beads of sweat are rolling off your forehead and this pulsation between your legs is as if you were given a dose of an aphrodisiac multiplied by five times. Oh no this is definitely not normal, you need to tell Wanda and Natasha what is happening apparently because of this cute glowing flower. While you were in your thoughts you didn't notice how the swearing died down and both women also noticed the changes.

When you turned your head, you saw two women looking at you with hunger and tents in their pants. Your mouth watered at the sight of the obvious bulge on both of your girlfriends and you impatiently walked over to Wanda, clinging to her like a lifeline. "Oh God, I don't know what it is, but I need you both so bad." Natasha came up from behind, pressing her rock-hard dick to your ass, her arms wrapped around your waist and the redhead’s whisper was heard in your ear. "Oh don't worry baby you'll get what you want.Damn I'm going to die if I don't fill your pretty pussy at least twice. What do you think Wanda?"

You feel the soft material of the sheets as they throw you on the bed, watching as they take off their clothes and look at you as if you were their prey. Your own panties are already hopelessly ruined, lub flows down your thighs at the sight of your girlfriends.

You quickly take of your clothes after which Nat takes you in her arms, pressing a kiss on your lips, you feel her cock poking into your stomach and dripping with pre-cum. Wanda, meanwhile stands behind stroking her length at this spectacle. "Mmm..Nat please." You rock your hips to rub against her cock, but you are suddenly pulled to your feet and forced to your knees.

"No no, first you're going to take every inch of my dick into your mouth, baby." The tip of her cock pressed against your lips and you obediently open your mouth and shake your head along entire length. Wanda can’t just watch anymore and comes up to you, takes your hand and places it on her pulsating length. "Come on baby, jerk off Wanda you can't leave either of us needy. Damn Wanda her mouth feels so good around me. That's such a good cocksucker." You move your hand and rub your thumb over Wanda's sensitive red tip as she begins to rock into your hand. Tears well up in your eyes when Natasha grabs your hair and shuts your mouth. Wanda helps you jerk her off and grins, “What is it baby girl? Is Nat’s dick too big for you? You’re so beautiful, now I want to cum all over your face.”

Natasha began to shamelessly fuck your mouth, running after her orgasm, the head of her dick hitting the back wall of your throat every time. "That's itmbaby, I'm going to cum in your beautiful fucking mouth and you'll swallow every drop. Wanda, are you close? Cum with me." Your hand was thrown away so that Wanda could jerk herself off, cumming all over your face, ropes of Natasha's cum hit your throat and you breathed through your nose as you swallowed every drop as you were told.

You took a deep breath as the redhead pulled out of your mouth and wiped Wanda's release off your face. When you were lifted from the floor, a small puddle of your arousal remained on it, your legs did not obey and your knees were red. You were already dripping and the pitiful whining and pleas left your mouth without hindrance. “Please it hurts so much, I need you to fuck me so bad.”

"What do you think Wanda, I think she deserves to have you fill her pussy." The witch got off with a simple nod as her two strong hands forced you onto all fours on the bed, allowing her to position herself behind you so she could start pounding into you without warning. "God Nat, her pussy was made for my cock, so greedy and tight. You need to see how well she takes me." Nat, meanwhile, spat on her hand for extra lub and stroked her red sensitive tip, appreciating how good the two of you looked. The long-awaited feeling of filling and Wanda’s quick thrusts drove you crazy, you put your hand under you, stimulating your swollen clit. "Yes yes thank you thank you so good fuck I'm gonna cum can I cum?" You know that with the tip of Wanda’s cock deliciously hitting that nice spot inside you, you wouldn’t last long, and having received approval, a minute later the orgasm hit you with incredible force. "Oh yes Y/N you squeeze my cock so well. Oh my God, cum for me like that, cum all over my length." The witch praised you.

You were turned over again and your back touched the cool sheets. Wanda pounding into you hearing a cute whine from your mouth, "Too sensitive. It's too much." "Oh baby girl you can take it. I need to filled this tight pussy so badly. You want my cum inside don't you? Do you love this cock?" "Yes yes I love so fucking much!". Natasha continued to jerk herself off when a cute little idea popped into her head that she only bothered to tell the witch about. The women looked at each other and Wanda nodded in approval of the plan.

The witch's thrusts became faster and she exploded, releasing her load inside you. “Oh yeah baby fuck take all my cum!” The feeling of fullness and how good it was, was the only thing you could think about. Wanda, meanwhile, pulled out of you, giving way to the redhead. Natasha turned you around, taking you by the hips and jerking off her cock, she stuck only the tip inside you, filling you even more. "Oh fuck fuck I'm so full fuck Natasha!" “That’s it my little greedy girl, I know you love it when I fill you up .” The only sounds in the room were heavy sighs and Nat's little whining as she pulled out and looked at the beautiful picture in front of her.

You were lying on your shared bed, Wanda took napkins from the nightstand and carefully wiped all the liquids from your thighs, kissing you and telling you how good you are and how much she loves you. When the witch finished, Natasha threw a robe over your naked body, picked you up, kissing your cheeks and carried you to the bathroom so they could both take care of you the way you truly deserve.

Sitting in a hot bubble bath, you asked, “How do we tell Tony about the pollen effect of his science experiment?”

#natasha x reader #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha x you #wanda x you #wandanat x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader

[skylarsblue]

✦I have more C.o.D Quotes✦

Gaz: How’s your head? Y/N: Well, I haven’t had any complaints yet. Gaz: …excuse me? Y/N: Oh uh, I think I’ll live-

-- (Somewhere in Greece with a fuck ton of cats) Ghost, watching Price sneeze every five seconds: What a catastrophe. Gaz: No. Y/N: PFFT- Soap: Stop, no, don’t encourage him. Y/N: Ahem! Right, right. Not funny. Ghost: I am purrfectly capable of being funny. Y/N: *struggling* Gaz: Sometimes I wish you didn’t have a mouth.

-- Just a scene of Y/N taking out a bottle of whiskey, unscrewing they cap, then putting one of those lid caps on. (Like the ones you have on those fancy Gatorades) Taking a huge swig and closing the cap on it as Soap watches in amusement, & Price in fear.

-- Ghost: Quit messing with my hand. Soap: Quit messing with my hair! Y/N: Quit being gay. Gaz: PFFFT Y/N: Both problems solved.

-- Y/N, on the comms: You have thirteen seconds before the building fucking explodes you hot topic wannabe- Ghost: … Y/N: And you green gumball son of a bitch. Gaz: Wha-?! Soap: *WHEEZE* Y/N: You have done nothing but ruin my life; I hope you both die.

-- Soap, Gaz, & Y/N: *cackling* Laswell, losing at poker: I miss my wife, Price. Price: *places down cards* Laswell: I miss my wife.

-- Ghost, overstimulated & a lil drunk: AHHHHHH MY BONES Y/N: *frantically getting headphones* Soap, drunk: *wheeze* Gaz: Ah. I know I should’ve- *dies coughing* Soap: *more wheezing*

-- Graves *kicks in door* WHO POSTED MY NUDES ON TWITTER DOT COM?! Y/N: SUCK IT, BITCH BOY!! Alejandro: *aggressively slapping his leg while silently laughing* Rudy: *pointing and laughing* Valeria, in handcuffs: Ha, dumbass.

-- Graves: Bitch, you are gonna get in this car or I’m popping between ya eyes! Valeria: Hey, I know you. I saw your dick on Twitter! Graves: NOOOOOO Y/N: AHAHA!

-- Graves: C’mon Johnn- Y/N: *chucks a rock at Graves’ head* Graves: OW, WHY?! Y/N: NO JOHNNY FOR YOU! He goes by Soap and we respect that! Graves: Ghost calls him that! Y/N: CAUSE GHOST HAS PERMISSION, you EARN the right to Johnny! And I will be damned if anyone else earns the right before me. I been working my ass off to get the Johnny privilege and you will NOT get it for free! Soap, who’s just been standing there the whole time: *leans to Gaz* Have they actually been taking it that seriously? Gaz: Yeah. They’ve also been working real hard to try and get the right to call Captain “John”. Shoulda seen their face when I said they can call me Kyle. Soap: That’s…really sweet, I’ll give’em permission later. Gaz: Why not now? Soap: I wanna see that bastard get chewed out some more.

-- Y/N, perched on Price’s desk: Captain. Price: *sigh* Y/N: Captain I crave violence.

-- Ghost: Your family line deserves to die with you, only shame it didn’t end before you. Graves: ….I just sat down!

-- Y/N: You’re like…the human incarnation of crumbs in the bed. Graves: Oh c’MON THAT’S REAL MEAN Ghost: It’s true though. Y/N: The kinda crumbs that you keep swiping away but somehow they never leave- Graves: Alright! You know what- Soap: Like getting in bed after going to the beach. Gaz: Sand in the bed, yeah. Feels like that when he talks. Graves: I’M JUST GONNA FUCKIN LEAVE! Y/N: *watches him go* Annnd now the sheets have been changed. Ghost: Clean from filth. Alejandro: You all are so cruel and it’s perhaps the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.

-- Gaz: Things Gucci with you? Y/N: It’s Goodwill at best, my guy. Price: I don’t know what this means but I feel like I should be concerned.

-- (Mild NSFW Jokie Time) Gaz: You alright? You been zoned out. Y/N: Hm? Nah I’m good, just having depraved thoughts. Gaz: Depraved, you say? Soap: Oh do tell. Y/N: You just…you ever see someone and think “they have pretty eyes”. And that’s normal. But then the little devil in the back of ya skull goes “yeah they’d look good rolled back”. Or am I just a whore? Gaz: That is depraved. Soap: Got a good point though.

-- Y/N: Ooo! Look! Old pictures of Captain, this one’s dated. You would’ve been…19 in this one. Lemme s-…… Gaz: Lemme see! ….. Price: What? Y/N: …..you were a whore, weren’t you captain? Gaz: That’s the face of an arrogant bastard who fucks regularly. Price: I…might’ve been a bit of a playboy. Y/N: And I would’ve fallen for it you god damn bastard, no ones fACE SHOULD BE THAT NICE!

-- Valeria, painting her nails: I might kill my ex, not the best idea. His new girlfriend’s next- Alejandro: ….. Rudy: ….should I be worried? Alejandro: Move away quietly and pray.

-- Ghost: For the record this is self destructive. Soap, chugging his 5th energy drink in the past hour: For the record, I’m aware of that.

-- MILF!Y/N: Boys. Bed, now. I wanna talk to your captain. Price: No, boys stay. Please stay- Y/N: Go. Price: Stay. The boys: *concern, panic, perhaps a bit of fear* Y/N: Go! Price: Stay! Y/N: You go! Soap: *speed walking* Price: Soap, stay! Y/N: NOW! Gaz: *slowly backing away* Price: Gaz, don’t move! Y/N: YOU GO! Price: SIMON- Ghost: *leaving*

-- Ghost: What was Plan A? Soap: …don’t fuck up. Ghost: And what was Plan B? Gaz: Don’t fuck up Plan A. Ghost: And what did you do? Y/N: …fucked up plan a- Ghost: YOU FUCKED UP PLAN A-

-- Ghost: What’s rule number one? Soap, with dynamite: Party! Ghost: NO! No, not party! No!

-- Graves: How about after this, we get a drink? Y/N: …I would rather gouge out my eyes and blindly navigate a way to turn them into earrings than ever be anywhere alone with you. Soap, grinning: Ooooo brutal! Ghost: Karma.

-- Ghost: Wait…Johnny’s into me? Like…he LIKES me?? Gaz: Oh Si…you poor, sad, dense mother fucker.

-- Ghost: At least nothing of importance was lost. Laswell: …Graves was kidnapped. Ghost: I know. I said what I said. Y/N: Nothing of value was lost but we did shed off some trash! Ghost: Precisely.

-- Ghost: These lights make me wanna pull my eyes out and eat them. Medic!Y/N: *turns lights off in favor of a lamp* …alright, so you’re autistic, good to know.

-- Ghost: Should I get my reading glasses? Y/N: Oh no no, this isn’t an eye test. It’s a GAY test. Now tell me, *holds up picture of Farah & Graves; Price being 1* Number one, or number two? Ghost: Number one?… Y/N: Interesting. *holds up Farah & Soap, Soap being 2* Okay now number one, or number two? Ghost: *gasp* Y/N: Number two, right? Ghost: Maybe I am gay?

-- Waitress: So, I’ve gotta ask, I’m really curious. 141: ? Waitress: Have any of you ever used like…the military language in bed? Soap: Naaaah. Y/N: No, I don’t- PFFFT, I- *wheeze* I’m sorry I’m imagining it- Gaz: *biting back laughs* Y/N: “You gonna come?” Affirmative. *laughs* Soap: *WHEEZE* Gaz: *cackling* Price: Oh lord- Gaz, snickering: Picking up speed. Y/N: COPY- *Laughter x100* The entire team: *giggling like hyenas* Ghost: Uh, that’s a no. I don’t think we’ve done that.

-- Price: *smiles at Soap & Gaz being stupid* Y/N: I like when you smile. Price: …huh? Y/N: Your smile, I like it. Makes your eyes crinkle up and your beard makes you look like a cuddly bear. You should smile more. Price, internally on the verge of tears: *fond sigh* Get back to drills, soldier. Y/N: Yes sir!

-- Ghost: *minding his fucking business* Y/N: You have pretty eyes. Ghost: *chokes on air* Pardon? Y/N: You have pretty eyes. Ghost: No I-…they’re just brown. Y/N: So? Your eyes don’t have to be blue or green to be pretty. They’re pretty because they’re expressive, and when the sun hits them they look like syrup. I like’em best when we’re all at a bar. They get brighter then. Ghost: Ghost: …stop talking, sergeant. Y/N: Copy that, L.T! <3

-- Gaz: *laughing at something on his phone* Y/N: You have a great laugh. Gaz: Hm? Oh…really? Y/N: Mhm. It’s cute, comes from your chest. I’ve never heard you laugh in anyway that’s not genuine. Really fills the room with joy. Gaz: Dude, you’re gonna make me all soft with words like that. Y/N: All according to plan!

-- Soap: *rambling about something* Y/N: *listening intently* Soap: Then-…ah, I been talkin’ at you this whole time, eh? Should probably quiet down. Y/N: No no, I like your voice! Soap: Eh? Y/N: It’s super energetic and loud, and when you tell a joke or talk about something you love, it’s like you can hear your smile. It’s really fun to listen to. I like when you talk! Soap: *inhale* You’re gonna make me cry- Y/N: I have tissues!

-- König: *fidgeting* Y/N: *takes his hands* You have beautiful hands. König: Wh- Huh?? No they are not. Y/N: They are too! König: Nien, they’re rough and calloused, they break a lot of things… Y/N: They also pet stray cats, make the best coffee on base, and create crotchet works of art. They also mend wounds pretty well. Yeah they fire guns but that doesn’t make them less beautiful. König: *he’s actually crying* …Danke. Y/N: Don’t mention it!

-- Rudy: *rolling his shoulder* Y/N: Anyone ever tell you that you have great shoulders? Rudy: Hm? Oh uh…no, I don’t believe so. Y/N: Well you do! Rudy: Ah, gracias. When I was younger I wanted them to be broader, sometimes now I wish they were more narrow. Can never really be happy with’em, you know? Y/N: Well I think you should be. They’re strong! *gently pats his shoulders* They hold a lot of weight, metaphorically and physically. And even when they’re weighed down, you shoulder it and keep moving. You’re real good at that! I like your shoulders. Rudy, prepared to die for them: …gracias. Y/N: No problem! Now c’mon, the guys are waitin’ for us!

-- Y/N: You have good collarbones. Alejandro: What was that? Y/N: Sorry, I know that’s real specific, but I think your collarbones are pretty. It’s like…the rest of you is bulky and strong, rugged. Then you have these delicate bones. I’m probably being too poetic but it’s like a subtle nod to your gentler side, just, built into your body. Alejandro: …you have a lovely way with words, camarada. Y/N: Thank you! I appreciate that!!

#incorrect cod quotes #call of duty x y/n #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod x gn reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #captain john price #john price x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas #valeria el sin nombre garza #phillip graves #rodolfo rudy parra #rodolfo x reader #ghostsoap #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x reader #konig x reader #konig call of duty #alejandro x rodolfo #kate laswell

[yikesharringrove]

He doesn't talk anymore.

It was a jarring switch, and everyone still isn't used to Steve's persistent silence.

Because before, he was nearly as chatty as Dustin. Always trying to make the kids laugh, yelling at them and calling them shitheads (albeit lovingly).

He doesn't even laugh anymore.

His windpipe had been badly crushed by the demobat's tail wrapped snugly around his neck.

He had needed surgery.

Surgery that had only added to the lacerations and the keloid scars around on his neck.

And really, it's not that he can't talk.

He couldn't for awhile, and it still hurts sometimes.

But he doesn't fucking want to.

He has nothing left to say.

Because he had made peace with death.

Several times, actually. Throwing the burning bottles, being choked in a dried-out lake by a creature straight from his nightmares.

In fact, he had been mostly ready to venture into the sweet beyond since last summer.

His leg shook under the table, and he was staring at the silver ring on his thumb, spinning it around, and around.

He didn't really like when Robin left him alone at their donation table, she was much better at talking to the people that stopped by, bringing more clothes they didn't need, or coming to pick up something to replace what's been lost.

But Robin was doing her best to move on. Chatting up Vickie in some corner, somewhere.

A small cough got Steve's attention.

It was Susan. Hargrove. Mayfield? Did she go back to her previous name after her abusive husband left her with the corpse of his son?

"I found another box. I guess Maxine had been-" her eyes welled up, and Steve's hands stopped spinning the ring around his thumb. "Well, I think she kept some things of his."

Steve's hands shook as he stood up.

He knew Billy and Max had been much closer than they let on.

He knew Max missed Billy more than she could really express.

He opened the box.

Right on top.

It was that fucking jacket.

The brown leather one. The one that was older and softer, more worn than anything else Billy owned.

Because he loved it. Because he took care of it. Because it was his favorite.

And something in Steve broke a little, and he raised the jacket to his face, and he breathed in deeply. He didn't care who saw. He didn't care that Susan's face had gone pale and her tears had started falling for real.

"Oh."

He barely heard her voice over the blood rushing in his ears, the smell and the memories and don't fucking cry, Steven!

Susan closed the box up carefully. Steve finally lowered the jacket.

"I can put this in your car. So you can keep them. You deserve to-" she glanced down at his hands, and the silver ring, tarnished and glinting on his thumb. "keep them."

Steve brought his hand up to his wobbling chin, touching his fingertips gently under his lip, bringing his hand back down, palm up.

Thank you.

He hoped she got it. Understood the way she understood his tears.

She took his hand briefly.

"I wish we had met differently. I wish-well. I'm sure you wish the same thing."

Steve nodded. His leg had started shaking again, making his whole body tremble. He felt unsteady on his feet.

He fished his keys out of his pocket, handing them to Susan so she could take the box and tuck it in his trunk.

"You take care, then. You, you remember him well."

Steve nodded again, hot tears dripping off his chin.

Yes, ma'am. He wanted to say. I'll never forget him.

But,

he doesn't talk anymore.

#oooh this wasn't supposed to be this sad but idk i guess this is whats happening #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #yikes writes

[willowrites]

A Conrad Fisher best friends to lovers one. Denial from both of them and angst even though they both love each other. Maybe drunk kissing/jealousy?

SOBER THOUGHTS DRUNK ACTIONS

PAIRINGS. conrad fisher x fem reader

SUMMARY. your beginning of the summer party takes a turn…

WARNINGS. drinking, making out, cheating (not really)

AUTHORS NOTE. i love this one!! the emotional knees always get me! hope you enjoy <3 not proofread yet

WORD COUNT. to be counted.

the only thing that was distracting you from the fact that conrad had his arm around another girl was the loud music booming from the speakers.

you guys throw a massive beginning of the summer party now that you guys were back in cousins.

you had gotten there just a week before to plan it and were talking about it even before summer started.

so now that it was here, you were supposed to be having an awesome time.

confirmed: you were not having an awesome time.

belly was with her new summer bae; cam cameron. steven was with another girl he’d met at his job. jere was somewhere off with who knows…and conrad? conrad was with a girl who looked disappointingly beautiful.

your stare burned holes on the side of his face.

you were raging because even though you both are super close best friends you’ve had feelings for him for forever and you felt as if you should’ve done something about it before he was able to get a girlfriend.

but now here you are, staring at them laughing and giggling with their feet dipped in the pool like the cute little couple they were. ugh.

you wanted to bury your thoughts and feelings so you went ahead and served you some spiked punch that steven had made.

as time went on you had one too many of those cups. you weren’t blackout drunk per se but you would be waking up to a killer headache the next morning that’s for sure.

you stumbled outside carrying your red cup in one hand and your phone in the other.

you walked up to conrad and his new girl not even thinking of what to say.

“oh hey y/n…” conrad had suspicion in his voice. “a-are you okay?”

conrad had never seen you like this. sure maybe you guys have gotten tipsy a few times together but never this drunk.

“oh i’m fine connie dont worry a-about me!” you slurred patting his shoulder. “and you are?” you eyes the girl next to him.

“oh im nicole” she smiled. “it’s really nice to meet you.”

“mmm yeah nice to meet you! i didn’t know little connie here had a girlfriend!” you looked at him then back at her.

“oh uh it’s something fairly new…” she admitted awkwardly. “hopefully soon though right?” she tried to laugh it off.

“y/n, i think we should get you some water.” he tried to guide you back toward the back door of the house.

“oh no no! you wouldn’t wanna leave your girlfriend here all alone would you??” you grabbed his arm and pushed it off you. “by all means don’t let me ruin this beautiful conversation you’re having.”

you stumbled backward but didn’t realize you hit the edge of the pool.

conrad tried to grab your hand but it was too late as you fell onto your back into the water.

you didn’t realize what was going on until you genuinely couldn’t breathe due to the water that made its way inside your throat and nose.

you heard someone else jump in and grab you pulling you up.

you were coughing and choking on the water gagging trying to take a breath.

“fuck fuck fuck!” you heard conrad’s voice as he lead you to the edge of the pool. “come on y/n. you’re okay.”

you grabbed hold of the ledge trying to keep yourself up as you tried to cough and get some air.

as you were calming down you saw jere above you lending you a hand.

you grabbed his hand and allowed him to pull you so that you were on your knees trying to breathe slowly.

“what the fuck happened?” he asked conrad.

“dude she’s fucked up right now. i gotta go take her to her room. she’s done for the night.” he said. his words had to ur blood boiling.

you had cleared your throat enough to speak. “you don’t make decisions for me. i’m…i’m fine!” you stumbled away heading toward the gate that led to the beach.

you tried to scrunch up your shorts to get rid of the water as well as your shirt. you heard someone else behind you and the gate slam.

“y/n! get back here.” conrad.

“leave me alone.” you said. not bothering to yell it out.

“look, let’s just go back inside so that you can clean up. i know you’re not comfortable in these wet clothes and neither am i.” he grabbed your arm once again and for a split second you were going to push him away but he was right.

you hated being in wet clothes.

“i’m only doing this because i want to.” you muttered walking back to the house.

as soon as you made it upstairs you went straight to your room and conrad followed you.

you turned around, annoyed. “i don’t remember inviting you to come in.”

he put his hands up in defense. “i just need to make sure you’re okay. you need to hydrate.”

“i’m fine. i don’t need you to babysit me.” you start brushing out your hair. it’s the one think that would calm you down. to have untangled hair.

“i know you don’t. why the fuck are you acting like this?” he was getting irritated by the minute.

“go back with your fucking girlfriend conrad.” you dismissed him.

“no. i am here because i need to make sure you are okay.” he walked further into your bathroom.

“whatever.” you mumbled looking at yourself.

“can you look at me?” he sternly questioned. “why are you being weird?”

“if you’re gonna be here can you be here silently.” you were persistent on showing him how mad you were. even if it was unfair.

conrad’s frustration was really starting to blind him.

he moved you so that you were looking at him not realizing how close you two were.

you were leaned against the bathroom counter hands on it trying to hold yourself; his face inches from yours.

“what’s wrong?” he was searching your eyes for something.

your eyes started to sting from the tears that were forming. “nothing.” you whispered.

his eyebrows furrowed. he saw how emotional you were becoming and he hated it. he didn’t know what to do.

you were looking at him surveying his face which was doing the same thing.

you looked at him with love. you couldn’t help it. you tilted your head to the side shutting your eyes causing a few tears to fall.

looks like you were an emotional drunk.

you then leant your head on his shoulder silently trying to stop crying.

his arms wrapped around you.

you guys stood there for a moment. you then took a deep breath and sniffed to stop your nose from running.

you lifted up your head to meet the same blue eyes. your breathing stopped for a second as he wasn’t making eye contact with you. he was looking at your lips like he was thinking of his next step.

you didn’t know what to do but before you could act out on anything, he connected your lips.

you didn’t know how to respond until his hands grabbed your face taking dominance of the kiss causing you to start kissing back.

as he molded his lips with yours you breathed in his scent. he smelled like the ocean and vanilla.

he tasted like the fruit punch you were drinking earlier. his hands were soft and warm making you feel so safe.

he pushed his tongue into your mouth earning a whimper from him.

he then tapped your leg and whispered, “jump.” causing you to follow his words.

you jumped as he carried you and placed you on the counter.

his hands were on your hips continuing to push you further back until you had to prop yourself on your hands to keep yourself from hitting your head or falling against the mirror.

you continued to kiss for a few more seconds before you both had to catch your breath.

his mouth was next to your ear. you could here every single breath, every hitch. you closed your eyes taking in the moment.

“i love you, y/n.” he whispered in your ear. “for a while i’ve felt this way.”

he was admitting it all now.

you were stunned. your eyes opened up immediately sobering up.

“i…i…” you stuttered.

he pulled back, both of you face to face now.

“you don’t have to say anything but i need you to know how i feel.” he reassured.

“i love you.” you said.

he immediately smiled

you smiled back starting to giggle excessively.

he kissed you once more then pulled away.

“can we please get ready for bad and continue to tell each other how much we love each other.” he asked nuzzling his nose to your cheek.

“mmm, yes please.”

#✮⋆˙ 𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑶𝑾 #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher smut #conrad fisher angst #conrad fisher fluff #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty imagine #conrad fisher imagine #the summer i turned pretty au

[billzoned]

Hey, I don't know if you still write, but I imagine sapnap getting angry after losing in a game and taking it out on the bed-

anger

pairing :: cc! sapnap + afab! reader

content warnings :: explicit content, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it guys), dom! sapnap, sub! reader, edging, ..marking, choking, belly bulge.., hair pulling if u squint, praise.., bjs, creampie :o

word count :: 920

author's note :: i am indeed still writing! i just write excruciatingly slow and my motivated comes in small bursts most of the time. but requests are always welcome <3

(ps.) i am horrible at writing endings, and aftercare...oopsies? :'c

NOT PROOFREAD — nsfw under cut.

sapnap is one to get just a little bit...angry if he loses in something. it doesn't matter if it's a video game, or anything else– he'll get irritated. to make it oh so much better– he takes his anger out on you every time he gets the chance.

all that could be heard throughout sapnap's room was the sound of gagging and euphoric groans coming from sapnap. after he lost a manhunt (horribly), he had decided to take all of his anger out on you– in your vulnerable state of watching youtube videos in the room next to him, he had dragged you into his own room and decided to simply fuck your throat and try to blow off some steam.

your clothes were nowhere to be found– probably thrown on the floor somewhere as your throat convulsed around sapnap's cock as he harshly forced your head up and down repeatedly. you were clearly having trouble taking all of him into your mouth. "ah, god- come on, just be a good little slut and take it, yeah?" he mocked your struggles. but he rolled his eyes, grabbed your hair and pulled your mouth off of him anyway, letting you take a breather as you coughed from the severe asphyxiation you had experienced in the past two minutes– until he pushed your head back down and continued ravaging your throat until it was sore and raw. he kept fucking into your mouth until suddenly his cum shot down your throat and painting your mouth white with a loud groan.

finally, after what felt like eternity, he grabbed a handfull of your hair and roughly pulled you off of him and carried you to his bed. "you want to be fucked, don't you?" he said as he bent down to start his attack on your neck– biting and kissing all over the flesh until your skin was littered in pink-ish red marks. the noises you were making were enough of a confirmation for sapnap, as he trails his hand down from your stomach to your thighs, and finally to your dripping cunt. he slowly drags his fingers up and down your folds until he stops at your clit– rubbing small circles rabidly and hearing your small whimpers and quiet moans fall out from your lips. you were just on the edge of release, your noises getting just a bit louder and more desperate, until he stopped all of his movements and left you with a ruined orgasm.

"you're gonna have to beg if you really want to cum, sweetheart." he said tauntingly, slipping his fingers into your cunt. you looked at him with fat tears rolling down your face, trying your best to beg. "please, sap!! jus' let me cum-! please-please, please!" you beg, your destroyed voice trembling and filled with desperation. "hm.. i may consider it.." this went on for a couple of minutes until he finally gave you what you were begging for. your legs had started shaking uncontrollably from the overstimulation of his fingers moving rapidly in and out of your pussy as the coil in your abdomen snaps. you moan aloud and your eyes roll back into your head in pleasure– vision going cloudy– as sapnap looks down at you. "there you are... good girl, good girl.. doing so well for me.." he praised, as he pulled his fingers out of you.

he swiftly pulled you to the edge of his bed, lining up his cock with your entrance and pushing the tip in, before slamming into you and making you moan loudly. he grabbed your hips tightly– so tightly that they would certainly leave bruises in the morning. the continuous sounds of skin-on-skin slapping and the sounds of ecstasy coming from both you was simply intoxicating to sapnap. he couldn't help himself– he just had to wrap his large hand around your throat like a necklace and hear your struggled moans. "take it- fuck- take it f'me, yeah?" he whispered in your ear. he looked down over your body, his eyes stopping at the little bulge pressing up in your tummy every time he thrusted in and out. his head fell back from the sight– he wasn't even sure if he could last much longer from that.

your moans increased in volume as his cock brushed against your g-spot, waves of pure pleasure flowing through your veins every time he pounds into you. he slowly trailed his hand down from your throat to your stomach, and to your clit– rubbing it rapidly and stimulating the small bundle of nerves. the two of you weren't gonna last too much longer, that was for sure. with sap pounding into you and the two of you being in a state of pure ecstasy..it was bound to end soon.

you could feel the familiar feeling of your abdomen tightening, signaling you were close to your long awaited orgasm. suddenly, with one simple deep thrust from sapnap your orgasm hit you like a truck– your eyes rolling back into your head and a loud moan falling from your lips. sap's hips were soon stuttering as he groans, head falling backwards and eyes closing as his cum leaks into you. he takes a moment before he pulls out–asking if you're okay and slowly slipping out.

the last thing you remember is him saying, "i'll be back in a minute, alright?" before seeing his blurry figure getting up and walking supposedly to the bathroom to go get a wet wash cloth to clean you up.

<3

AA I FINALLY POSTED SOMETHING I WROTE!!1!1!! it's 1 in the morning and it's not the best but hope yall enjoy! :3

#ゞbillzoned #sapnap #sapnapvids #sapnap smut #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #dsmp #dsmp smut #dsmp x reader #dsmp x you #dream smp #dream smp x reader #dream smp smut #mcyt #mcyt smut #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #dteam #dteam x reader #dteam smut #dream smut #georgenotfound smut #karl jacobs smut #smut

[steddieas-shegoes]

Request: wrong number au, Eddie texts Gareth something personal but puts in 1 wrong number & ends up texting Steve. The two of them hit it off & start chatting & then when they meet IRL they are completely head over heels in love & its cute as fuck

MY LOVE MY LOVE MY LOVE!!! LOVE A GOOD WRONG NUMBER AU!!! I can't believe I've never written it before now. I also had to actually include Gareth because I am actually obsessed with him lately, and I just think it's really neat that we can make these characters our own. This was such a fun and cute request! I didn't do the inappropriate route because I thought this was hilarious so sorry about that. I made up for it with something else! - Mickala ❤️

----------------------------------------------------------

GARE BEAR! You won’t believe it but i dropped my phone in a sewer. Lost everything.

He had never been so happy about having his closest friends’ numbers memorized. His phone was somewhere under the streets of Chicago, floating through dirty water and sewage, dying a slow and painful death.

He texted everyone else one at a time, let them know he had a new number and to completely delete the old one because it would never be recovered.

They were used to things like this happening; He lost his phone annually at this point and it was cheaper just to get a new number than transfer everything to a new one.

He went to dial Wayne, the old school part of him insisting on phone calls instead of texts still, when Gareth’s name popped up with a new text.

Not sure who Gare Bear is, but sorry about your phone. That’s shitty.

Eddie let out a loud laugh.

did you mean to make a pun?

Did it make you laugh?

yes

Then yes.

Eddie sat down on a bench, entirely focused on his conversation with this stranger.

Did you find your Gare Bear yet?

Not yet but i think i’m pretty happy talking to you for now

Smooth, Eddie.

Admittedly, he was in a hell of a dry spell.

Going on almost two years, actually.

A little flirting with a stranger never hurt anybody, not when he clearly needed some practice.

Not sure if your Gare Bear would like it very much though

Wait, what?

Eddie stared at his phone, trying to comprehend what that could mean. Why would Gareth not want him talking to a stranger?

I hope you find your partner though!

Oh.

Oh!

Eddie hit the call button in the corner before he could even register what he was doing.

“Hello?”

Oh no, he sounded hot.

“Hi. So, Gareth is very much not my partner. He probably actually wishes I would really forget his number,” Eddie rushed out.

“Um. Okay?”

“He’s been my best friend for ten years and he thinks I’m a mess. Not a partner,” Eddie further clarified.

“Got it. Not a partner.”

“Yes, exactly.”

They stayed silent for a moment before Eddie coughed.

“I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“Steve. Sorry about your phone, seriously that sucks,” he sounded genuinely apologetic, like he personally threw Eddie’s phone in the sewer.

“Oh, no big deal. I lose my phone more often than I go out with someone,” Eddie said.

Why did he say that?

Steve let out a laugh and it was like music.

Eddie couldn’t help the smile taking over his face at his laugh, already knew he wasn’t gonna be able to let this guy go without learning more about him.

“So you’re, what? Celibate?” Steve asked.

“Far from it. Well, maybe not far from it. Temporarily, maybe. It’s been a while,” Eddie admitted.

“How long?” Steve asked, a loud bang coming from his end of the phone. “Sorry, I had to go outside for some privacy.”

Eddie wasn’t going to read into that. He wasn’t.

“Two years give or take. I mean I’m not counting shitty dates that ended before they got worse. So, yeah. Two years.”

“Been a year for me, but. Yeah, I get it. My last relationship didn’t end on the best terms. She decided I was too in love with her I guess,” Steve sighed, voice sounding pained.

She.

Steve was probably straight.

There was no way he’d be lucky enough for Steve to like men.

Or for Steve to like him.

“I can’t really imagine breaking up with someone because they loved me too much. I’m usually the one who falls too hard,” Eddie admitted.

“Yeah, well, same here,” Steve sounded sad, a bit withdrawn.

Eddie wanted to hear him laugh again.

“I doubt either of us have ever fallen as hard as my phone did down a drain,” Eddie said sadly.

Steve let out a loud laugh and Eddie smiled.

“This might sound crazy, but I’m kind of glad your phone decided to live in the sewers,” Steve said when he finally calmed down. “And maybe a little too happy that you typed your friend’s number wrong.”

“Oh really? Why’s that?”

Was this flirting? Was he successfully having a flirtatious conversation with a potentially very hot guy?

“So I can be bold and ask if you maybe wanted to meet up somewhere?” Steve asked hesitantly.

“So you’re in Chicago?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah. You?”

“For the last five years, yeah.”

“You busy tonight?”

Eddie’s heart stopped.

He was really going to meet up with a stranger just because he liked his laugh and hoped he was hot.

He’d done more with less.

“Yeah, actually. I’m getting dinner with this guy I accidentally texted,” Eddie smirked, looking down at his feet.

“Dinner? What a lucky guy. Where are you going?” Steve sounded amused.

“Well, it depends on what he likes. I’ve been craving some pierogies. Ever been to Staropolska?” Eddie asked.

Gareth’s family owned it, and he used to eat there two or three times a week while they were in college, usually working off his bill in the kitchen doing dishes after.

He hadn’t been in a couple months, work keeping him busy and his budget being pretty tight when he moved into a studio apartment by himself.

He had enough to treat himself tonight though.

“The one on Milwaukee? Yeah. One of my favorite places to get devolay,” Steve sounded surprised that he knew it.

“You won’t believe this, but the friend I was trying to text when I got you, his family owns that place.”

“No way! Then we have to. We owe it to the guy who has almost my exact phone number,” Steve responded.

“Meet you there at seven?” Eddie asked, suddenly more nervous.

“Seven sounds good.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Steve giggled. Eddie fell in love.

“We should probably hang up.”

“Should we?” Eddie asked, not wanting to stop talking to him yet.

“Yes, I have to do my hair. Gotta impress the guy who drops his phone in the sewer and texts strangers about it.”

“He sounds like a loser. Don’t put too much effort in,” Eddie sighed. “But okay. See you at seven.”

“See you then.”

They both stayed on the line for a minute.

“Okay. For real. Bye,” Steve laughed.

“Bye, Stevie.”

He hung up before he could convince himself to talk to him for the rest of the afternoon.

He breathed out a loud sigh, smiling as he realized he had a date.

He dialed Gareth’s real number immediately.

“Gareth, I have a date!”

“What is this number, Eddie?”

“Oh, I dropped my phone in the sewers. Not important. I have a date!”

“Jesus Christ. Okay. Come over then.”

—-----------------------------------

Gareth had been his pre-date hype man since high school, though he wasn’t very good at it.

Mostly he calmed Eddie’s nerves and helped make sure his hair didn’t look like he just woke up, which was often its unfortunate state of being.

“So, you don’t know this guy,” Gareth said from his bed.

“No.”

“And you talked for like two seconds and decided you’re in love with him,” he continued.

“Yes.”

“And you think this is totally normal and sane?”

“I didn’t say that. But we just…I dunno. We clicked. I haven’t been that at ease with someone in a long time. It felt natural,” Eddie fell back on his bed, starfishing so his arm and leg hit Gareth’s legs.

“Dude, I’m not discouraging it. I’m happy for you. I just don’t want you to be disappointed if it isn’t as easy when you meet,” Gareth said softly.

“Yeah, thanks. I think it’ll be okay, though.”

“Alright. Tell babcia I’m coming by tomorrow for lunch.”

Eddie sat up and gave Gareth a quick hug.

“Thanks Gare Bear!”

—-------------------------------------------

He arrived 20 minutes early so he could sneak in the back to say hi to Gareth’s grandmother, who still insisted on getting her hands on the food every day for a couple of hours despite being nearly 80 years old.

“Babcia!”

“Eddie! My kochany! You forget to visit and I forget what you look like!” she rushed over, flour and oil stains all over her apron.

He should have kept some distance so his shirt didn’t get ruined, but he ignored the part of his brain telling him to look perfect for his date so he could get a hug.

“You know I have to watch my money,” he said against her shoulder.

“And you know I feed you for free if you clean up after yourself. No excuse,” she pulled away and looked him over. “You look handsome. Why?”

Eddie put his hands on his hips.

“What? Don’t I always look handsome?”

“Of course, but this is different. Your hair is smooth and you smell like the perfume store,” she smirked. “Is it a girl? Or a boy? Or a someone?”

“It’s a boy. We’ve never met in person, so I wanted to make a good first impression,” he admitted.

“Oh! How lovely! What’s his name?” She was back to kneading dough, but kept her eyes on him.

“Steve. He actually has been here before, loves the devolay?”

Babcia froze.

“Steve? Oh goodness.” She turned to the sink and washed her hands, muttering under her breath about something.

Eddie’s heart sank. Babcia didn’t seem happy about this.

“What’s wrong? You know him?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Is he not a good guy? Has he been mean to you? I’ll call and cancel right now,” he insisted, reaching for his phone in his pocket.

“No, no. Nothing like that. He is a very sweet boy. He got broken up with in this restaurant a few months back. Tore me to pieces. He just sat here for hours crying. I moved him to a corner booth for his privacy and he left me a $100 tip and ever since then when he comes in I make sure to give him as many szarlotka as he wants.” She touched Eddie’s shoulder. “You be good to him. He has a nice heart.”

Eddie’s mind raced.

Why had Steve agreed to come here for a date if this is where he’d been broken up with? Why did he even bother coming back if it held such bad memories?

What if he didn’t see this as a date?

The front door chimed and he heard the employee at the front welcome someone.

“He will be good for you, drogi.”

Eddie nodded before making his way to the front, stopping in his tracks when he saw the most beautiful man he’d ever seen standing at the podium, talking to the employee with a smile.

“That’s him,” Babcia said from behind him. “Go get him.”

She shoved him forward, nearly making him trip, which caught the attention of Steve.

He looked over with a curious smile, and then realization seemed to hit him.

“Steve?” Eddie managed to ask, loud enough to be heard over the few full tables in the restaurant.

“Eddie?” he asked back, hesitantly moving towards him.

“I, um,” Eddie started, then cleared his throat. “I usually sit by the window, if that’s okay?”

“That’s perfect,” Steve nodded.

It was cliche, like the room around them closed into just them existing together, like the stars had aligned exactly right for this moment to happen.

They sat down at the table Eddie usually sat at, staring across the table at each other in slight awe.

Eddie really hoped that Steve was having the same feelings he was.

But one thing was stopping Eddie from being completely enraptured.

“Is this a date?” he asked suddenly.

“What?” Steve seemed surprised by his question. “I mean, yeah. I’d like it to be. I thought it was.”

Eddie nodded once, but remained quiet, thinking.

“Oh God, it wasn’t, was it? You were just being nice. What is it with this restaurant? If I didn’t love the food so much or babcia, I would never step foot here again, I swear-”

Eddie put his hand on Steve’s to calm him down, frown on his face.

“Woah. What?”

“I just. I don’t have the best history with dates here and I guess I didn’t learn the first time something bad happened, and now I’m being too much too fast again in this place and-”

Eddie pulled Steve’s hand up to his face, placing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

“Stevie, calm down. This is a date. I’ll have as many dates here as you want to to get rid of whatever negative stuff you associate with this place. Babcia would hate that I ruined this place for you,” he said quietly.

Steve seemed to relax at his words.

And if you wanna tell me about what happened, you can. If it’ll help,” Eddie offered.

Before Steve could reply, Gareth’s cousin, Ben, came to take their order.

It was a quick order, both knowing exactly what they wanted, and then Steve looked back at him.

“It’s just. My last girlfriend, who I was with for almost three years, dumped me here. It was kind of out of the blue for me, and I had a really hard time that night.”

Eddie felt his heart break.

How could someone do that to Steve? He didn’t need to know him better to know that he didn’t deserve that, especially not if babcia had taken him under her wing so quickly.

“She must be awful to have let you go like that,” Eddie squeezed Steve’s hand in his, resisting the urge to go to his side of the table and hold him.

Steve shrugged and looked down at their hands.

“I mean, I should have known. She was never much for romance or spending time together that didn’t involve work or school. I was looking at engagement rings and she was looking at apartments to get away from me. I was just…really blinded by what I thought was love,” Steve smiled sadly at him.

“It wasn’t?”

“Well, it may have been a type of love. It was more comfort than anything. She was kind of all I had for the first year we were together, and I think I just ignored how unhealthy that was for both of us. And then I met Robin in college, and she was like the opposite of Nancy in every way. A few months before Nancy broke up with me, I told her that Robin’s parents kicked her out when she came out to them and that she needed a place to stay until we graduated. She agreed, then never made any attempt at getting to know her. And I didn’t read into it, Nancy isn’t like, super talkative with people she isn’t already close with, and Robin just kinda stayed to herself when Nancy was home.” Steve took a shaky breath. “But it turns out she didn’t bother getting to know her because she already knew she was gonna break up with me and leave the apartment to me and Robin, so.she just. Didn’t bother. Robin warned me, but I didn’t listen.”

Eddie wanted to cry.

Steve’s voice was full of pain, but not in a way that told him he still loved her, or still hoped they would get back together. More that she broke a part of him that he still hadn’t been able to fix no matter how hard he tried or wanted to.

“Was she jealous?” Eddie asked, trying so hard to understand what could have happened.

“I dunno. I mean, Robin’s a lesbian, and I definitely never had feelings for her anyway. Nancy was always so sure of herself, I can’t imagine she’d be jealous.”

“It sounds like she didn’t appreciate you very much.”

“What do you mean?” Steve didn’t sound mad, just curious.

“Well, she didn’t even make an effort to get to know your best friend, right? And it sounds like she was too busy focusing on her future to even think about what you looked like in it, and instead of trying to plan it with you, she made a future for her. She sounds a bit selfish,” Eddie shrugged.

Instead of being upset, Steve laughed.

God, Eddie loved that laugh.

“Sorry, it’s just that you sound exactly like Robin. You’d probably be two peas in a pod.”

“Tell me about her,” Eddie genuinely wanted to know more about the person who kept Steve going.

Their food arrived in the middle of the story of how Steve and Robin met, but it didn’t stop him from continuing.

Eddie listened with a fond smile, filling in Steve’s gaps of silence as he chewed a bite of food with questions or something related to what he’d been talking about.

It was easy.

It was fun.

Halfway through the meal, Steve’s foot rested against one of his and it felt like electricity shooting through his bones.

Eddie told him about Gareth, and his family who had pretty much adopted him when they both moved here from a small town in Indiana. He talked about his uncle who raised him for most of his life, who visited every Christmas despite being on a really tight budget.

Time passed quickly, but not at all.

They hadn’t realized how long they’d been sitting there until babcia came out without her apron to hand deliver an apple tart.

“You boys enjoy. I’ll see you both soon!” she said as she smacked a kiss on top of each of their heads.

Both of them blushed, but tried to cover it up with a bite of food.

As they finished, Steve looked outside to see how dark it was, how few people were left walking the streets.

“Guess we should head out,” he muttered, sounding like that was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Would you wanna come to my place? We don’t have to do anything except talk, I promise. I just don’t really want this to end yet,” Eddie suggested.

“Really? I haven’t bored you?” Steve asked, just a hint of self-deprecation in his tone.

Eddie shook his head.

“Not at all. I’d really like to get a chance to love you the way you deserve,” Eddie said.

Steve’s eyes widened.

Eddie should back up, should say something less intense.

But if this ruined it, then at least he said what he was thinking.

“You think you could love me?” Steve asked, barely more than a whisper.

“I think I already do a little,” Eddie admitted.

Steve blinked at him for a moment, mouth slightly agape.

“I need to kiss you,” he finally said.

“Now? Here?” Eddie smiled.

“Now. Here.”

“I won’t stop you.”

Steve stood from the table and stood in front of Eddie, placing both hands on his cheeks and leaning down.

Their lips brushed in a barely-there kiss, softer than Eddie expected.

Steve stayed there for a moment, eyes closed, and Eddie couldn’t help the words tumbling from him.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

If someone had said it to him, he would think they were just trying to get him into their bed, but that wasn’t the case here and he hoped Steve knew that.

“People used to call me a charmer, but I don’t think I’m half as good at it as you,” Steve whispered, his breath ghosting against Eddie’s lips.

“Just honest.”

“Take me home,” Steve said, opening his eyes and staring at Eddie, his eyes glowing with something close to love.

—-------------------------------------

They stayed up all night, never doing more than kissing and mapping out patterns on each others’ skin.

They talked about everything, even the painful parts of life, even the parts that they hadn’t shared with anyone else.

It didn’t make any sense that someone who had been a stranger not even 24 hours ago could already mean so much.

When the sun started to shine through the curtains of Eddie’s apartment, Steve sighed and buried his face in Eddie’s neck.

“I have to go to work,” though he burrowed his entire body further into the bed and Eddie’s side.

“You could call in sick,” Eddie suggested, pressing a kiss to the top of Steve’s head.

“Robin would kill me.”

He and Robin worked together as team teachers at an elementary school. When one of them missed, it left the other with 34 kids alone.

Plus, Steve loved his job, worked hard to be a teacher, and hated missing a day if he didn’t need to.

“Maybe you could bring Robin here after work? I can make dinner?” Eddie’s job was pretty easy, marketing for an Indie record label based out of New York remotely really kept him busy for a couple hours a day and the rest of the time was spent writing his own music.

Steve sat up and looked down at him, his hair ruffled from Eddie running his fingers through it for the last eight hours.

“You’d wanna meet Robin?”

“Yeah, if you want me to. She sounds like fun.”

Steve started crying.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry. Good job, Munson, already ruined something good,” Eddie was reaching for a tissue from his bedside table.

“No, no, I’m sorry. I’m just tired and emotional. And just. It means a lot that you’d wanna meet her,” Steve said between gasps for air as he continued to cry.

“Of course I do. I could even invite Gareth over, too, if you want. He won’t believe that our date went well,” Eddie joked, brushing the tears away from Steve’s cheeks.

“I’d love to meet him,” Steve said, sniffling.

“When can you guys get here?”

“Usually we’re done by four, but sometimes we stay later to finish grading stuff. Maybe we should say six?”

“Got it. Any allergies?”

“Robin is allergic to shellfish. She says she is. I think she just doesn’t like them,” Steve rolled his eyes.

“No shellfish, got it. Any preferences, my love?”

Steve blushed at the term of endearment, looking down before he leaned in to kiss Eddie softly.

“Anything you make will be great.”

“You wanna borrow some clothes for work?” Eddie asked.

“Do you have any business casual stuff?”

Eddie gagged.

“Unfortunately, it’s required for the job sometimes. Far left of the closet should have something,” he nodded towards the small closet by the bathroom.

Eddie watched as Steve walked over and picked out his only pair of khaki pants and a navy button down. Steve looked back at him and winked before he nodded towards the bathroom.

“Could use some help working the shower if you’re willing to,” he smirked.

Eddie jumped up from the bed and ran into the bathroom, ignoring the way Steve was laughing.

“The hot water is tricky sometimes. I should probably get in there too to make sure it stays hot,” Eddie said as he stripped off his pants.

“Definitely. Wouldn’t want me to get cold,” Steve put a hand on his shoulder to slow him down. “Kiss me?”

Eddie leaned in to kiss him slowly, letting his tongue brush along his lips just to get a taste.

“Okay?” Eddie checked in.

“Yeah. You remember what you said last night? About loving me like I deserve?”

Eddie nodded.

“I want you to. And I want to love you back.”

“I think we can arrange that.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #gareth emerson #wrong number au #modern au #ficlet #request #getting together

[seaslugfanclub]

Hi! I really love your Disney Villains x reader content! Especially the "Scaredy Villain", "Time in the Spotlight", and the "No, I'm their favorite" one. Speaking of that, I remember Hades mentioned that he was one of the first to meet Y/N, which got me wondering, what were Y/N's first interactions with each of the villains like? 🤔

Once again, I love all of your works! And I can't wait to see you do more in the future at your own pace and time! 😊 💕

So I’ve actually gotten a couple asks about this, so decided to answer all of them with this! Since all the Villains meeting (Y/N) would take way too long to write in one post, I’ve decided to make this a series of one shots, so stay tuned!

I, of course have to start with Hades. (Since his introduction is my most fleshed out) but I’m slowly but surely getting all the Villains interactions in order! Hope you enjoy 💙

Meeting the Villains: Prt. 1

Hades

TW: panic attack

—————————————

It was (Y/N)s first day working at the Disney Parks, and they were on the verge of the panic attack of the century

The crying babies, excited children, sickly smell of sweat mixed with the food stands, multicolored rides, and the unrelenting heat all melted together to create the perfect sensory overload

They felt like they’re about to throw up. Or pass out. Or throw up and then pass out. Screw employee training, they needed to get out of here.

Near hyperventilation, (Y/N) quickly stumbled to the quietest location they could find, leading them to a skinny alleyway between two buildings. Immediately they got on the ground, putting their head between their legs and taking deep breaths

Slowly (Y/N) began to calm down, the relative silence of the alleyway a balm to their ears, and the nostalgic scent of cigar smoke really helped ground them— wait….

Lifting their head up to make a spare glance to their left made (Y/N) scramble onto their feet. There — hidden in the shadows of the alleyway was the lord of the dead himself, his most lugubriousness, Hades, smoking a lengthy cigar and staring down at (Y/N) with a sardonic grin.

(Y/N)’s heard about these “holograms” Disney released into their parks, hell, it’s all they’ve heard about since they’ve been hired. And sure, (Y/N)’s seen a couple characters from afar as their employment trainer toured them around the park. But to see an actual one up close? This was a first.

Hades looked so… real. The blue flames atop his head flickered into the air, fanned by the light breeze of the afternoon. His skin was chipped and pitted, a similar texture to granite. Even his chiton looked like something spun from the finest silks, his whole body too detailed to be a simple projection of light.

…..

“So are you just gonna stare at me like an idiot, or…?” Hades took a drag of his cigar, blowing the smoke in (Y/N)’s face, causing them to hack in response.

“ *cough*—Sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, it’s just—“

“Ya first time seeing one of us?” Hades interrupted, “yeah, I figured. And lemme guess, it’s your first day at the circus, huh? Don’t think you’ll last long if you abandon your post because your a little nervous~”

(Y/N) grimaced at Hades jab, retreating into this alleyway was supposed to be a brief respite. Their brain was too fried to think about the consequences of talking back to one of Disneys prized characters, the only thing (Y/N) felt looking up at Hades was indignation

“Oh please, I’m not the only one here who’s supposed to be somewhere else. And smoking??? At THE Disney parks??? It’s my first day, I’ll get off easy, but you? If we’re caught, I’m only gonna get chewed out once.”

A multitude of expressions passed over Hades face. Surprise, anger, disgust, amusement, before finally settling into one of forced resignation. It was a hard pill to swallow knowing he wasn’t the one in charge here. The fucking mouse was.

“Ohoho, I bet. I’m sure any consequence of yours will be dropped if you go off and tattle on me~” Hades seethed, finishing the cigar off in one drag as his flames sparked red.

(Y/N) huffed, going to lean against the wall again, “Are you kidding me? I’m not a narc.” They waved off the imaginary scenario, “I’m here the same reason you are, so why not make a deal. You like those don’t you? If you won’t say anything, I won’t either. Let’s just enjoy what little privacy we can in peace.”

Hades stood in silence for a bit, he didn’t want to sound stereotypical, but this newbie wasn’t like the other park employees he’s had to deal with.

Usually the park members would act one of three ways; either they’d cower in fear, submissive towards his biting remarks (his favorite), they’d fail to see his sentience and pass him off as a lifeless hologram (his least favorite), or act all high and mighty always admonishing anything he enjoys.

But to have someone talk back to him, but not follow the parks rules to a T? Well, Hades had to see where this went.

“Y’know what, kid? It’s a deal.”

————————————————————————

I can’t wait to share with you all what I have planned, I’m so excited!!! I also want to thank you all for your continued support of my work, I seriously didn’t expect so many people to like my silly writing, but here you are!!!

I see all of your asks and I promise I’m working on them! Just expect turnout rate to slow down with my college’s spring semester rolling around❤️

#disney villains #self insert #disney imagine #disney x reader #disney hades #hades x reader

[sage-green-matcha]

SMOKE SLOW - ETHAN LANDRY 🚬

“So take your time while you’re mine and smoke slow” - Joshua Bassett

Content includes: marijuana/smoking that’s it idk 😭 also this is a Drabble? Mini story..? Enjoy!

<3

<3

<3

Ethan was shocked when he saw what you pulled out of your pocket at Chad's party. But at the same time, it wasn't unexpected, especially from you.

He watched as you rolled up the herb into the paper, licking it and rolling it closed. You lit the end, placing it onto your lips, taking a deep breath in, the burning plant entering your lungs. You blew out a cloud of smoke, handing the blunt to Anika.

He watched as it was passed around, Tara bumping his shoulder. "I...I'm not sure how to smoke it?" "I'm not surprised" Anika laughed. "Don't judge him, it's okay I'll teach you. Just take it to your lips" he did as you told him, the blunt in between his two fingers.

"Good, now suck it like.." you laughed, not knowing how to explain it. "Yea, inhale it into your lungs" he inhaled, his eyebrows furrowed with an uncomfortable expression on his face. "Okay hold it! Hold it" You waited a couple of seconds before instructing him to exhale. He let out a couple coughs, his eyes watered with tears. "Don't worry, that was good you'll get it" he smiled up at you.

The blunt was passed around a couple more times, Ethan with it in hand once again. "Okay try it again, you can do it" he felt some type of way when you praised him, shaking it off as he inhaled. This time he did do it right, smoke escaping from his lips. "See? I told you you'd get it"

The blunt was almost gone, and so was everyone in the circle. "Who wants to shotgun?" You asked, Anika, rolling her eyes. "I have a girlfriend" "What's that?" Ethan asked, eyes a light red color. "I'll show you, come here" you patted the spot next to you.

"Okay, soo...I'm gonna exhale it, and you have to inhale it from my mouth, then we kiss? Yea?" Kiss? He thought, kiss you? He nodded anyways. His face was flushed pink, heart beating faster as you inhaled.

You took his face into your hands, holding his jaw so he would look at you. He opened his mouth slightly, inhaling the air that you were letting out. It looked like he was sucking out your soul, the smoke transferring from one mouth to the other.

He exhaled, the smoke trailing from his lips. "Now kiss!" Tara laughed, clapping with a smile. You leaned into him, closed eyes as you placed a kiss on his lips. You deepened it, the taste of smoke light lingering in your mouths.

"Not bad, Landry" You pulled away, the sound of the kiss still lingering in his brain. His mind felt fuzzy, his body relaxed as you leaned against his shoulder. "Hey! Anika...are you high?" Mindy's hands were on her hips, an annoyed expression on her face. "Yea! You should've joined us" she giggled, looking up at her girlfriend.

"Okay, we're going home. But I'll see you stoners later" she smiled, Tara waving as you let out a small goodbye, Anika following behind her. You turned your head slowly at Tara, her phone ringing in her lap. "It's fucking Sam" she grumbled, leaving to take the call somewhere else.

"So, how's the first high?" You asked, a small laugh coming from your lips. "I feel weird" Ethan mumbled, eyes almost shut. You scooted down against him, hugging his side, his arm wrapped around your shoulder. "You're warm" you mumbled against his chest, eyes barely opened.

"That was weird, ew sorry" you laughed into his chest. You took the blunt back to your lips, inhaling harshly before blowing the smoke up, the cloud hitting his face. You felt Ethan adjusting himself, placing a kiss on your head before stealing the blunt from your fingers. "Hey..."

"Sharing is caring Y/n/n"

#fanfic #cute #celebrities #ethan landry #scream #avatar #ethan landry smut #jack champion #jack champion x reader #romantic killer #jack champion oneshot #jack champion x y/n #jack champion scream #jack champion fanfic #jack champion fluff #girls who smoke weed #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x you #ethan landry fluff #scream 6 smut #scream smut #scream 2022 #scream franchise #scream vi #scream movies #scream 6 #joshua bassett #men who smoke

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Already Gone || MV1 {6}

Pairing: Max Verstappen x spy!fem!reader Summary: The brief moment of quiet comes to an end when Ferrari go on the attack for retribution. Warnings: 18+ only, oral, smut, violence WC: 2.7k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven

You had fired the warning shot and there was nothing to be done but wait and see how Ferrari would respond to their stocks plummeting.

With no races for the next two weeks you had too much spare time that it left you itching to do something, anything. After years of living life on a whim, moving from place to place faster than Max with his DRS, all this time at home was taking some getting used to.

The house was tidy, the laundry was done, you even started to log into the dark web to see if there were any jobs waiting before realising that it wasn’t your job anymore. You were part of a small team that worked under the very loose term of security but reported directly to Christian. With Ferrari scrambling for sponsors to finance their team, it had been relatively quiet for you in recent weeks.

After pottering around in the kitchen you decided it was five o’clock somewhere in the world and broke out the blender. Armed with two cocktails, and nothing left to keep you busy while Max streamed, you made your way upstairs and decided to watch his race with the rest of the Redline team.

You saw his smile grow in the small box in the corner of his screen when he spotted you pass through the doorway behind him and he risked crashing as he steered with one hand so the other could pull you onto his lap.

“I wondered when you would get bored,” he commented as he continued leading the race. 

“It seemed the perfect excuse for some day drinking,” you said as you held his glass up to his lips so he could take a sip as he steered.

“Oh fuck, that’s strong,” he said with a cough before taking another drink anyway.

The chat box started to go crazy with the amount of comments coming through and you scanned over them until one caught your eye and you snorted a laugh.

user1: Max, I hacked your computer and have your sex tape. Pay me €1m or I’ll release it.

“No one can get past my firewalls, but nice try!” you said before you leant towards the camera and childishly poked your tongue out. 

“Babe, babe,” Max called as he shifted around trying to see the screen before his car crashed and he threw his hands in the air, nearly sending the drinks flying. “Ah, come on." His head dropped to your shoulder with a groan before he placed a quick kiss in the same spot. "Gianni says thanks.”

user2: Uh-oh! Someone’s in trouble now. user3: Y/N coming and ruining it for the rest of us.

“I was just giving the other guys a chance to win,” you said for the chat before turning to Max and kissing his cheek, “so your friends will still want to play with you.”

user4: such a mommy thing to say user5: Did everyone else miss the fact Y/N just confirmed they made a sex tape!

Since Max no longer needed his arms to drive, they curled around your waist as he read the comments with you, answering some questions along the way. 

“No, we haven't…well, not on purpose,” he said as he saw the last comment. “I forget how many security cameras she has set up around the house and there’s always new ones, so it just happens.”

user3: Sounds like Y/N is keeping Max in prison. Blink twice if you need help.

His laugh teased your skin as he rested his chin on your shoulder and unplugged his headphones so you could hear Gianni and Diogo teasing him.

“Alright,” he cut them off with a roll of his eyes when they took things too far as always happened. “That's enough internet for one day, I’m going to go and get drunk with my lovely warden.”

“That’s sarcasm, for those about to call the police,” you pointed out as you held his bored face up to the camera. “I know it’s hard to tell with this stoic, handsome face.”

Max chuckled as he closed the platform and you shifted on his lap to get more comfortable. “Are there any videos?”

“Oh, without a doubt,” you confirmed after finishing your drink while you thought of all the places in the house you had gotten carried away with each other. “I haven’t actually checked though, but now I just might. Maybe I can make a video for when you’re away.”

“For you or for me?” he asked as his hands ran up your thighs slowly.

“I might share with you if you ask me nicely.”

The sim chair went sliding back before Max stood up with you in his arms and he navigated the hall to cage you beneath him on the bed. You could taste the gin on his tongue before he trailed his lips down your neck and across your collarbone.

“Is this you asking?”

He hummed his answer against your skin and his fingers popped the button on your jeans. “Nicely.”

“You certainly know how to get your way,” you praised, lifting your hips so he could drag them down your legs before you sat up just long enough to pull your shirt off.

“I learned from the best,” he teased with a wink before he tugged your body to the edge of the bed and fell to his knees between your spread legs. His breath was warm on your thighs and the short hairs that shadowed his cheeks left you writhing before his lips even made contact.

“Maxxxxx,” you whined as he kissed everywhere except where you needed it most.

“Yes?”

You pushed yourself up on your elbows so you could see the smirk on his lips. “This is not my definition of ‘nicely’.”

“Patience, liefje.”

“Patience was never my strongest virtue,” you warned before you used a move that was meant for close combat and ended with Max on his back on the carpet and you straddling his chest. “I want you.”

“I can see that,” he chuckled as his hands gripped your thighs and pulled you higher up his body, lining your centre with his lips. “Impatient little minx.”

You moaned as his tongue finally found your sweet spot after all the teasing and your hips rolled as you buried your hands in his hair and rode his face.

You had never had a lover like him, one that was more focused on your pleasure than his own. One orgasm wasn’t enough, he wanted you weak and overstimulated, your arousal running down his chin as he held your hips tightly so you couldn’t escape his tongue.

Your body was more than wet enough to take him when he kicked his shorts away and you sunk down his hard length. But your cunt was tight from the orgasms and the air left your lungs as he filled you so deeply it was almost to the point of pain.

“Need a moment?” he asked as his thumb reached between your legs and found your clit.

You did but, as he said, you were impatient and planted your palms on his chest as you slowly started to ease yourself up and down his cock. The sounds of your breathing changed as pleasure began to build and Max grinned as he gripped your hips knowing you were ready for more. He shifted beneath you, his knees bending so he could have the leverage he needed before he slammed up into you.

You cried his name out as your bodies slapped together and his strong hands bounced you in time to his thrusts. Every stroke dragged him along your walls that fluttered around him and you swore in ecstasy as his head hit your cervix.

Sweat beaded on your forehead, your legs trembled uncontrollably and you could barely open your eyes when his hold finally eased. There was no way you were going to be able to make it to the bed as you rolled off his body and collapsed to the carpet beside him

You were just about to open your mouth and ask him to drag the bedsheet down to the floor when your smartwatch lit up on your wrist. The alert was for the silent alarm that had been triggered on the perimeter of the property and all the oxytocin and dopamine released thanks to Max was replaced with adrenaline. Strength flooded back to you as you rose to your feet and grabbed a white shirt of Max’s that was close by.

“Lock the door behind me,” you ordered Max with a whisper as he noticed the change instantly. “And call Christian.”

“What’s going on?” he asked, pulling his shorts up as he made his way to the door too.

“Someone’s in the house.” You grabbed his shoulder as he went to step out of the room and pushed him aside. “Do not leave the room until I’m back. This is my job.”

“You’re my girlfriend, I’m not going to let you go alone.”

“Right now I’m your security,” you hissed quietly as you watched the camera feed in the small device, “and I will knock you out if it means keeping you safe.”

He held his palms up and took a step back into the room until you nodded in satisfaction. “Be safe.”

The worry in his tone brought a small smile to your face. “Always.” The door clicked shut behind you before the lock slid into place and the smile faded. It was time to go hunting.

You swiped across the device on your arm, flipping through all the cameras to determine there were three men in the house. They were still on the ground floor and making their way around each corner with the ease of a group that was used to working together.

Pulling Max’s shirt over your body, you wished you had time to at least put on a pair of panties. That was the last thought you spared before gripping the handrail of the stairs and shutting out everything but the task ahead of you. These men would not make it to the stairs, they would not make it to your bedroom, they would not make it to Max.

You timed it perfectly.

The billowing shirt caught the air as you leapt over the handrail and crashed feet first onto the man who had stepped into your path. He was lucky he didn’t look up because Max would have probably killed him for what be would have seen. Instead your heel connected with his head and he was a crumpled heap on the floor before you had even got back on your feet.

“She’s in here! You, find Verstappen and break his fucking hands.”

You dropped your hips low as you spun to face the voice behind you, tucking your head behind your forearms as a fist tried to kiss your cheek. The blow glanced off your arm but the crunch on knuckles on plastic rendered your smartwatch broken.

“Dick,” you growled as you lost the camera feed, and the position of the third asshole who had broken into your home. Angered even more so, you took the offensive and attacked.

The man was well trained as he dipped and dodged your 1-2 combo but he wasn’t expecting the furious headbutt you threw when he stepped in for a body shot. Light exploded behind your eyes as the man stumbled back with a groan before he stabilised himself with the wall.

“You’re a scrapper, aren’t you?” he laughed as he wiped the blood from his forehead before it ran into his eyes.

“Raised in the streets, sweetcheeks,” you smirked. If it wasn’t for the gin and adrenaline your head would probably be aching beyond belief but you couldn’t feel it just yet. “Who hired you?”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

“Worth a try,” you said with a shrug. “At least I know there’s no reason to leave any of you conscious.”

This time when the man attacked you didn’t try to stop him, you let him shove his weight into you and took him with you to the floor. Your knees caught his gut and when the momentum shifted, you pushed up with all your strength and sent him barreling into the solid oak front door. The wood cracked under the hit it took and you waited a moment to see if the man would rise.

A sound of annoyance rumbled from your throat as he tried to crawl on his knees and you shook your head. “You have one hard head, sweetcheeks.”

“Fuck. You,” he spat back, using the door handle to pull himself up.

“No, thanks,” you swung your knee up and knocked the air out of him, satisfied he wouldn’t be trying to get up again when he slumped to the floor. “I have taste.”

A shadow crossed the floor from the other end of the hall and you spun around to see the last assailant darting from the kitchen to the living room. Aiming to cut him off, you took the other archway into the large room and found him armed with a very expensive vase.

“We weren’t interrupting something, were we?” he asked as he eyed up the length of skin showing beneath Max’s shirt and you pulled the material back into place as you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Lucky for you we had just finished. If not, your friends would be dead.”

The vase was a gift from Max’s mother no less, and the man threw it at your head. You were torn between trying to catch it and self preservation but self preservation won as you slid out of the trajectory and it shattered across the living room floor. Shards went flying and Achilles hissed as he shot off the couch with the fright.

That’s when you saw red.

A sound akin to a warcry erupted from you as you ran and tackled the man around the waist, shoving your shoulder into his ribs as you both went down.

“You.” Your fist splattered blood across the carpet as it broke his nose. “Scared.” The skin on your knuckles split with a hard punch to the man’s side. “My.” Your nose wrinkled at the sound of his ribs cracking. “Cat!” You fell back on your heels panting as the man struggled to breathe.

The rapid thumping of feet running down the stairs had you rushing back to your feet thinking there was a fourth intruder but it was Max who skidded around the corner.

“You’re meant to wait for me,” you said as the fight left you exhausted and you swayed on your feet.

His arms were there to catch you and he scooped you off your feet and he kissed your sweaty forehead. “I heard you scream.”

“They scared Achilles,” you said with a wince at the touch and he pulled back, his eyes widening as he saw the swelling of the bruise beginning.

“You’re hurt.” The living room gave way to the kitchen and Max placed you on the countertop as he grabbed the first aid kit from under the bench.

“I might have a headache.”

“Stop being so tough,” he warned as he cracked the rapid ice pack open and placed it to your head. “Brett’s on his way, so is Christian.”

You bit your lip as he wiped your knuckles with disinfectant and the alcohol burned the cuts before he gently wrapped them with gauze.

“Does this mean we have to move?” he asked as he stepped between your legs and took over holding the ice pack in place. It was almost hard to imagine that on the other side of the wall there were three men unconscious when he stood in such an intimate position.

Your head snapped back to look him in the eyes. “No, this is my home. I’ll be damned if I let anyone take that away from me again.”

He swallowed before nodding in agreement. “Okay, then teach me to fight.”

Your eyebrows shot up your forehead and you winced as it sparked fresh pain. “What?”

“This is our home. I’m not going to let you defend it alone, again.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips as the doorbell rang and Brett called out. “This is my fight too.”

“Your fight with Ferrari is out on the track.”

“Not anymore.”

Click here for chapter seven.

Tagging: @octaviareina @omgsuperstarg @mvclff1 @alwaysclassyeagle @icantcomeupwithamusicalname-blog @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @vita-di-moda @formulas-bitch @untitled1279

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction

[ilovefakemilitarymen]

Deal with the Devil

~Professor!John Price x Student!Reader (Part Two)

____________________________

Read Part One Here: x

Requests are currently open!

Word Count: ~3.6K

CW: Minors Do Not Interact, NSFW, Smut, Inappropriate Teacher/Student Relationships, Sexual Tension, Praise Kink, Name Calling (good girl, sweetheart), not really much aftercare, AFAB Reader, She/Her Pronouns, Face Fucking, Fingering.

When you finally make it to class, Price is nowhere to be seen. You were a few minutes early, hoping to be as pointed as he usually is, trying to see if there was anything else he needed for the day. A few other students file into class behind you and you take your usual place, sitting in the front row. There aren't many students that actually show up to his class anymore, most of them just take the failure on their transcript or drop the class altogether.

You’d like to think that Price had respected your determination, and that's why he had agreed to the extra credit in the first place.

You’re half-buried in your textbook when he finally walks in, coffee in hand. He offers you a simple smile, as well as the rest of the students. He always extends kindness to his students, so you don’t expect special treatment, however, it still comes.

“Sleep well?” He finally looks over to you, talking low as he sits his bag against his desk. It takes you off guard slightly. You only give him a small nod, your eyes following his face, and he moves to sit at the edge of his desk.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” The question seems to fall on deaf ears as no one replies to him, but despite that, he begins his lecture anyway.

You fall into staring at him, watching as he moves back and forth in front of the whiteboard, jotting down terms and dates. You can’t get yourself to focus on a single one with how his pants hug his thighs nicely, nearly busting out of the seams with one small misstep. You watch as he moves, eyes taking in every inch of the man. Somewhere in the depths of your mind, you had wished he would have just asked to fuck you in return for extra credit. He just exudes the kind of energy of a man that’s good in bed.

When your eyes finally move to his face, he’s watching you. He gives you a small smirk, and you can barely hide the flush at being caught. He probably knows about your not-so-little infatuation with him and the fact that he didn’t take advantage of it directly when you had asked for extra credit just made him so much more attractive to you. You try your best to focus on your notes, swearing to deny anything he says to you about the staring.

Finally, he begins to wipe away the information on the whiteboard, clearing his throat and you realize that you’ve spent well over forty-five minutes just drinking him in. You curse to yourself, another class directly down the drain, and swear to yourself that you’ll read and re-read the chapter he had gone over several times before you go to sleep tonight.

“Enjoy the rest of your day,” He finally speaks to the class, and you hang back as the others leave. The lump in your throat forms at being caught staring at him multiple times. You need to tell him about his meeting, the damn meeting.

When he finally does speak up to you, you had fully expected to be called out, but he leaves it in the air between the two of you, focusing on your agreement instead, “What does the rest of my day look like?” He finally looks over to you, dusting his hands off and leaning against the front of his desk.

You cough, trying to collect your composure and glancing at the clock, “You have a meeting in about an hour.” When you finally speak it sounds rehearsed, and you know he catches on. He’s a smart man, a very smart man. You know you look absolutely ridiculous to him right now.

“Right, I almost forgot about that one,” He nods as he keeps talking, his gaze moving to the clock, “I’m gonna need you to come with me to that…to take some notes.” His eyes move back to you to gauge your reaction. His eyes were stern and you give him a nod before looking down at your clothes.

You don’t look bad by any means, but jeans and a tee shirt is definitely not business attire, “Should I go change? This is hardly professional.” You speak, unsure of your words but he just gives you a small laugh.

“It’s nothing important, just meeting with a couple of colleagues. You look fine. I just need you there to keep me on track.” You watch him, arms crossed against his chest and you give him a small smile as you nod to him.

“I can do that.”

“I’m sure you can,” He smirks at his words before he jerks his head towards the door, signaling you to follow him and you hurriedly grab your things and make your way out.

You pick up the pace, trying to settle into a good stride right beside him. It was a nice stroll through the grounds, but the weather was poor, so many of the students could be found hiding away in their respective dorms. Some part of you was happy about that; not wanting to explain why you were with the professor.

It doesn’t take long until he shuffles you into a small conference room and all eyes are on you, and you wonder what they think of you. Teacher’s Pet. New Teacher’s Assistant. You just hope they all assume you’d signed up to be his TA. He takes a seat among his colleagues, and you have to admit, he lives up to the drill sergeant comment that the other student had made. He commands a room like no other.

You sit silently as the meeting starts, jotting down things that seem important. There’s a comment about another meeting and you write that in the margins of his planner, keeping it in the forefront of your brain, needing to put it in your own so you don’t forget to remind him about it.

It goes on without a hitch, but, with the slight smell of coffee and tobacco, Price leans in to whisper in your ear, “Jot that down,” and his hand taps on the notebook you had splayed in front of you. You try to hide the way your breath gets caught in your throat, but you know he’s way too close to ignore it. You keep your eyes on the notebook, but with all honesty, you don’t even know what to write down, all the thoughts in your head blocking out what the other men say in favor of pulling the feeling of his breath on your ear to the forefront of your mind.

You’re sure he can hear your heartbeat from here and you move your hand up to chew at your nails, trying to conceal the slight flush on your cheeks. It does no good, and you can only silently thank any god that would listen that nobody else has eyes on you.

Nobody else but him.

Your hands are shaking when you try to write down the next thing being said, and it’s honestly no use but you try anyway.

“You’re doing good,” His words are quiet as they filter into your ears, and this time, your eyes shoot over to look at him, and he, surprisingly, looks slightly proud of himself. The praise is what finally breaks you, and you know he knows it.

You pull your eyes away from him, readjusting yourself in your seat and trying your best to pretend to be okay. Pretend like his words weren’t setting you on fire in the seat and tearing you apart.

The meeting finally comes to a close and you quickly shut the notebook and planner, shoving it into your bag and Price is waiting for you at the door when you finally gather your things. There’s a wet heat between your legs and you silently curse yourself for letting him rile you up so much.

He’s doing it on purpose. You’re not for sure, but the proud look on his face says it all.

The walk back to his office is silent, too silent, and you stray slightly behind him as you try to keep his eyes off of you as much as possible.

Your mind is stuck on the feeling of his breath and the way it had fanned against your face, tickling your throat. It sticks a lump there that you can’t swallow down.

When Professor Price finally unlocks the door to his office, he finally speaks, “You seem a little quiet, is there something on your mind?” He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, only opening the door and you follow him inside.

The room is dimly lit, yellow light from the small lamp in the corner resting on the both of you.

“Yeah, but I got some good notes for you.” You feign ignorance.

You know what he’s talking about, but the embarrassment keeps the words you want to say to him from coming out. You don’t let him know that you would much rather him push you up against the wall and fuck you right there. You don’t tell him you want to feel his fingers wrap around your throat.

You don’t tell him because he probably knows.

You feel like a wild animal backed into a corner.

In the small room, just you and him, and you didn’t see that he had clicked the lock on your way in.

“You know, Ms. (l/n),” Price finally speaks again, and your hands shake at your sides, “I’m not a stupid man.” He leans against the heavy wood desk when he finally speaks again, and this is it. This is when he finally fails you. “Did I distract you?” His words are heavy when they finally leave his lips.

“Maybe,” It’s the only thing you can get to leave your lips, and you curse yourself for not being more confident. His gaze tears you down, opening you up for him to see all the attraction. The need for him evident on your features.

“How would you feel if I told you that you’re distracting to me as well,” His words are low, just between the two of you despite being the only ones in the room, “When you stare at me the way you do, can barely get through a lecture with your eyes on me.”

You stay silent, words unable to form in your throat, but he finally continues, “Won’t you be a good girl for me and get on your knees? I’ll show you how much you distract me.”

With that, the dam finally breaks.

“Yes sir,” You barely get the words out and your bag is all but thrown to the floor, resting against the wall, and your eyes stay on his face when you move, knees bending, sending a jolt through you when they finally hit the ground in front of him.

He looks so good in this lighting, and your hands shake as they reach for the front of his pants.

His own hands catch yours before they finally reach him, stilling you and you look back up to his face. There’s a slight worry etched across his features when he speaks, “You can tell me no, sweetheart,” His words take you off guard, “You say the word and you can leave and I’ll still give you the extra credit.”

Somehow, the fact that he wanted to make sure this was a mutual thing only makes you more turned on. You nod to him, trying to find your words, and they barely come out as a whisper to him, “I want to,” You speak and he nods, moving his hand away from your hands to press it against your chin. His thumb rubs sweetly at your cheek, tracing the outline of your lips as you look up at him, eyes staring wide into his.

“You’re such a good girl.” He speaks, thumb pulling your lip down and his hands and the praise almost has your mind in pieces. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, and you swear it almost pulls a whine out of you. His other hand moves to grab your stalled hands, still resting just before the waistband of his pants before he pulls them closer to him, pressing them against the button.

Your hands finally start moving again, unbuttoning his jeans. You pull down the zipper finally, the sound of it so loud in the small room. When you dip your hands into his underwear, his thumb presses into your lips and he swears, and you open your mouth for him, letting him rest his thumb against your tongue as you finally pull his cock out of his pants.

He feels heavy in your hand, your soft skin wrapped around his length and your eyes finally dart down, taking him all in before moving back to look at his eyes. His hand pulls you in, pulling you closer to him as you stroke him a few times, finally moving to press a small kiss against the tip, and his hand moves to brush a piece of your hair behind your ear before it rests on the top of your head.

He grunts when you finally take him into your mouth, the soft, wet heat pulling him in as your eyes watch his face. “Fuck,” the curse filters into the silent room, and he runs an encouraging hand through your hair. The musky smell of him filling your nose and only pushing you further down onto him. You pull back, letting him out of your mouth with a small pop before you move your hand and try to take him all into your mouth.

“That’s it, such a good girl for me…” His words are darker now, dripping from his tongue seductively and you start bobbing your head, his hand moving to thread into your hair before he moves it to pet your face. It’s intoxicating, his encouragement, the light touches, and you can’t help but whine with him in your mouth, legs rubbing together to search for some kind of relief.

His eyes close and his hand is resting on your chin now, cupping your face as you move, a light groan pushing itself past his lips. “That feels so good, sweetheart, you’re doing so good.” His praise is the only thing in your mind, urging you forward as you attempt to take all of him into your mouth. Your hands move to rest against his hips as his hand moves to grip the hair at the back of your head. Your nose pushes into him, and you gag around him before moving back and his hips move of his own accord, thrusting lightly into your mouth.

The tip hits the back of your throat, pulling a gag out of your mouth. You’re heavily out of practice, but you can’t help the way your hands pull at him, practically begging him to thrust back into your mouth, to use it however he needs to get off. It sends a shiver down your spine, the way his eyes go dark before he thrusts into your mouth again, hand tightening on the strands of hair he’s pulled into his grip. You moan as the tip presses heavy into the back of your throat and he snaps his hips back before plunging himself back into your mouth.

“You’re doing so good,” His words fall out of his mouth like honey as his hips thrust his cock deeper into your lips, and you finally pull one of your hands from his hips to unbutton your own jeans and push your own fingers into your wet heat and he practically growls as he watches you. “That pretty mouth of yours, taking me so well.”

You hold your gags back as he uses your mouth, his pants hitting hard against your chin, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. He could tear you apart and you would just thank him for it afterwards. You moan as he continues fucking into your mouth, the vibrations running along his cock and he lets out a moan. You rub at yourself lightly, the wet sounds your mouth is making only pushing you closer to your own release. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but it’s so fucking good that you don’t want him to stop.

“You’re gonna swallow it all, yeah?” His voice is husky when it leaves his mouth, hips faltering in his thrusts and you try your best to give him a nod, but the heavy hand holding your hair only allows for you to barely do so.

His hips stutter as praises fall from his lips, along with a low growl and you can feel when his pleasure finally comes to a peak and he releases into your mouth.

After a few moments, his hand comes to rest on your chin again, pulling you off of him and opening your mouth so he can look at the mess he had made against your tongue. You look at him through your lashes as you close your mouth and make a show of swallowing him down, and you finally speak, your voice coming out whiny and rough from the way he had abused your mouth, “Touch me, please, touch me, sir.” You lean back against your calves, hand against the floor, making a show of touching yourself.

He’s on the floor with you in record time, sitting on his knees and you can barely move your hand before his own is slipping into your pants, rubbing at your clit before he slips two fingers into you. He watches the way your face contorts as a moan escapes your lips at the stretch. “I think you’ve earned some attention, haven’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” Your words break as they leave your mouth, a heavy moan following them out as he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing hard against the spot that feels so fucking good that it has you falling apart. His palm presses against your clit as he continues to pull out of you and push back in.

“So wet for me…” His words send a shiver down you, and you whine, your hand moving to grip his arm as the pleasure takes over your entire form. “You like that, don’t you? Love my fingers in you.”

“Fuckin’ love it,” Your words mix with his before he can even get them out of his mouth, and your brain is mush, mumbling incoherent sounds as your other arm gives out as you lay back on the floor, letting him have his way with you, fingers pushed deep in your cunt.

“You look so pretty like that, all fucked out and I haven’t even fucked you yet,” His words are low, barely there, but they push you closer to your release. It’s nearly embarrassing how he has you laid out on his office floor, rough fingers fucking into you and his palm pushing you further and further, but you don’t care, would let him do it as much as he damn well pleases, using you however he wants.

Pleas and chants fall from your lips when you finally tumble over the edge with him whispering praises of how good of a girl you are for him, and your back nearly arches off of the ground when he speaks, “That’s it, fuck,” And his other hand moves to your face, wiping your hair out of your face as he pumps his fingers into you through your release.

He finally pulls his hands out of your pants, bringing fingers up to his mouth to taste you, and it only causes you to whine as you come down from your high. His hand is heavy on your cheek, thumb rubbing sweetly before he finally stands up, fixing himself in his pants.

There’s just something about being on the floor under him, watching as he fixes himself as if nothing had happened between you as you’re thoroughly spent under him. You pull yourself up onto your elbows, using them to move back to your knees and he leans over to you, hand finding its way back to your face, caressing the skin of your cheek before he speaks, “Clean yourself up, beautiful, and get back to your studies.” His words are back to normal and your eyes roam over his face. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” A small smirk plays on his lips as he moves to sit at his desk, watching as you fix yourself.

There’s a slight satisfied grin on his face as he watches you and you move over to your bag to pull out a hair tie to pull your hair up, forgoing even the attempt to try and get the tangles out of it before you pull it up into a bun to try to hide the mess as much as you can. You know your lips are swollen and the light layer of sweat against your skin is starting to dry disgustingly, but his eyes on you just make you feel like you're the most beautiful thing in the world.

You get up off the floor, moving to pull your bag over your shoulder and leave, but his hand catches your wrist, pulling you over to where he sits before he presses a small kiss to your lips. You hadn’t expected the tenderness out of him but it’s welcome, and you give him a small smile before you head for the door.

You think, just for a moment, that you’re gonna milk this agreement for as much enjoyment as possible.

#john price x reader #john price x reader smut #call of duty fanfic #call of duty smut #call of duty x you #call of duty x reader #call of duty #fanfic #cod x reader smut #cod x reader #captain john price #John Price

[messylustt]

Hey! Could you maybe write a little something where the reader takes care of Ethan because he begins to come down with a really bad cold? Poor love is all sniffly and sneezy, so the reader just wants to smother him with affection during this time <3

this is so cute

✫ ;: .. TISSUES / ethan landry

kissing; this is pure fluff; established relationship

You knock on Chad and Ethan’s dorm. You had been worried all day, Ethan's text having been vague in his reasoning for not making it to class.

Chad opens the door, smiling upon seeing you. "Y/n!"

You smile, though it soon drops as you speak. "Is Ethan here?"

Chad's brows furrow. "Oh, he didn't text you?"

Now its your turn to furrow your brows. "About what?"

Then Chad breaks into a small chuckle, shaking his head. "God."

"What?" You ask, growing more worried.

Chad steps aside. "He's just in his room."

You narrow your eyes on Chad and his strange behaviour. You pass him, quickly making your way to Ethan's bedroom door. You knock. In response you hear Ethan mumble something before speaking louder. "Chad, please fuck off."

You glance back at Chad. "Did you do something?"

Chad raised his hands, proving his innocence. "He's just being a wimp. I don't know why he's so embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?" You again question.

Chad gestures to the door, telling you to just go in, before he wanders somewhere else in the dorm. You grab the handle, twisting and pushing.

"Seriously, Chad—" Ethan pauses, seeing you standing in the doorway. He stares at you, his cheeks pinkening, but as you take in his appearance you notice just how red they were before. You then notice the tissues scattered in a pile on the floor.

Your face softens as you realise. Ethan's sick. You rush over, shutting the door, as you toss your bag to the side. You place the back of your hand against Ethan's forehead. "Shit, your extremely hot."

"No you are." He joked, trying to make the creases on your forehead smooth out, before a cough followed.

"Oh, Ethan." You softly chuckle, taking a seat on the bed, your hand moving to touch his red hot cheeks. He sniffled, turning away.

Now you realise why Chad had said embarrassed. "Ethan, why are you so embarrassed? You should have texted me. I would have come over."

"Because thats what I didn't want to happen." He mutters.

"You have nothing to be embarassed about." You say, taking out your bottle of water from your bag. "Everyone gets sick."

"Yeah, but i look..." He sneezes, having quickly grabbed a tissue from the nearly empty box on his bedside table.

You hand him your bottle of water after he had taken the tissue away. "Plus I don't want you to get sick." He says, eyes slightly widening as if just realising this, as he tries to move farther away from you.

"Ethan." You stop him, placing your hand over his. "I don't care how you look when your sick. In fact your red nose is kinda cute, actually." You smile before turning more solemn. "But I don't want you to be sick. So, next time text me, and let me help you. No room for emarrassment. Alright?" You say sternly.

Ethan hesitates as he again turns his head away. You sigh. "I'll kiss you." You threaten to which he whips his head back.

"That's not a great threat." He says, his eyes dropping to your lips.

"I thought you didn't wanna get me sick?" You question, grabbing the end of the woolen blanket, placing it better over his body.

"Well, if I get a kiss I think it'd be worth it." He smiles, a cute tilt to his head.

You fake feeling offended as you go to stand up. Ethan quickly grabs your hand keeping you next to him. "I won't kiss you. I won't." He says quickly, looking desperate for you not to leave.

A smile edges your lips. "Good." You say, before leaning slightly closer. "Because you can get one when your better if you let me help you, and if you tell me next time."

Ethan slowly nods. "Alright."

Your smile widens, squeezing his hand before you stand. "Where are you going?" Ethan quicky asks, his hand quickly having glued to yours.

"Just to get a hot cloth. I'll be back." You say, getting out of his hold and walking towards the connected bathroom.

You soon walk back with a heated cloth to see that Ethan has placed all the tissues that had previously scattered the floor into a small plastic bag.

"You didn't have to do that." You say, laying him back down as you press the hot compress on his forehead.

His nose scrunches up. "Yes I did. It's disgusting."

"It's normal." You correct. "And remember I really don't care."

Ethan slowly nods, as a large smile forms on his face. He stares at you as you press the cloth against his forehead, brows creased in concentration. He didn't know what he did to deserve you. You'd always been there when he needed or even just when he wanted. You'd always helped in, with whatever. And now he couldnt look away from your pretty face as you took care of him.

When it got late and you had planned to leave, Ethan grabbed your wrist. "Can you...can you stay?" His question was followed by a cough.

You nod. "Of course."

Soon Ethan managed to drift off with your hand tightely held in his own.

. . .

When Ethan awoke he saw you slumped in a chair, knocked out, your hand still holding on to his. He quickly sat up, noticing his lack of a headache, but also the fact that you had slept there the entire night.

His brows furrowed in annoyance at himself for not letting you sleep somewhere more comfortable. In his sick state he hadn't noticed that you sat in a seat when he was drifting to sleep.

He looked down at your interwined hand, a smile forming, as he rubbed his thumb over your soft skin. You were too good to him. He was thankful that his nose had cleared along with his head, because now he could kiss you. And as he pressed his lips to the back of your hand, he felt you stir.

You slowly blinked awake, stretching, but pausing when you felt Ethan's grip followed by a soft kiss to your wrist. You looked at him to see he'd sat up, colour back to his cheeks and his nose no longer red.

You smiled realising he wasn't sick anymore. You meet his gaze, and saw every emotion swirling within, making your breath hitch. Ethan grinned before pulling you towards him by your hand making you gasp. You land against his body, as he wraps his arms around your waist.

"Ethan." You chuckle, as he quickly kisses you neck and jaw before hovering over your lips. "I get a kiss don't I?"

You purse your lips, hiding your amused smile. "I said one. You've already had...i don't know…four."

Ethan's smile grows larger. "Oh, I thought when you said kiss. You meant plural." In his own response, he kisses your lips, slightly knocking your head back, as he carefully sucks on your bottom lip.

Your hand leads to his hair, as he slips his hands to grab your thighs, spreading them over his lap. You place your hand on his chest, breaking the kiss. Ethan frowns, following your lips. "Hey, I've been sick."

"Exactly. It might not be completely out of your system."

He tries to lean in again, but you manage to get off his lap, holding your hands out with a smile on your face. "We can't be late." You say regarding uni. Ethan groans.

"But we get to continue after?" He asks, standing and walking up to you.

"Maybe." You mutter, teasing him, before you grab your bag, patting down your hair, as you walk out of his room.

"Maybe?!" He's in disbelief.

"Get dressed." You call back with chuckle. Both your faces have an immovable smile present. And it lasts for the rest of the day.

I have like no fluff on my blog, so I made this somewhat tooth-rotting

kisses, holly

#the ethan effect #ethan landry #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you #jack champion #jack champion x reader #scream #scream 6 #jack champion x y/n #ethan landry fluff #jack champion fluff #scream fluff #scream 6 fluff

[torscrawls]

The Suspicious Wayne Family

Summary:

“Well, several of them have come back from the dead so I just had to check it out for myself!”

Tim felt himself go cold. “…How do you know that?”

“Ghosts take note if someone manages to come back from the dead, you know?” Phantom leaned in and lowered his voice as if sharing an embarrassing secret, “It’s a terrible faux pas.”

Phantom comes to Tim with some concerns about the Wayne family. Tim really isn’t ready to deal with this.

Words: 2 023

Can be read on AO3!

-

“Augh!” Phantom groaned as he slumped across Tim’s desk in the Watchtower, utterly ignoring the fact that Tim was very much in the middle of work.

Tim, used to several dramatic siblings without any concept of personal space, simply sighed and tried to shove him off the desk. “Can you go be dramatic somewhere else? Some people are actually trying to get some work done.”

Phantom ignored him as he fused himself halfway into the desk, preventing Tim from depositing him onto the floor, much to Tim’s annoyance. Instead, Phantom groaned and splayed his arms wider, completely blocking Tim’s view of the screen. “You wouldn’t believe what just happened!”

Tim heaved a deep sigh as he gave up on work for now, leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and asked, “Alright, I’ll bite. What happened?”

Phantom immediately perked up. “Thanks for asking! You see, I was minding my own business—”

“Getting up to your usual shit,” Tim muttered under his breath as he sipped his coffee.

Phantom ignored him as he continued, “—when I ran across this huge house and there was this guy inside, which I know isn’t that strange by itself. But! He was reaaal big, and he had this white strip in his hair, which, I know, is a bit hypocritical for me to comment on, but this guy looked like such a try-hard—but anyway, he just attacked me on sight! With guns! Sure, they were regular guns, not ecto ones, so you know, I was fine, but still! So rude!”

Tim choked on his coffee. A huge and angry guy in a big house with white in his hair? That sounded awfully familiar… Hadn’t Jason mentioned that he would drop by the mansion today? Tim coughed to clear his throat and then managed a weak, “That’s… weird.”

Ah. So that’s what Damian had meant when he called in a disturbance in the air earlier. They hadn’t believed him since the cameras hadn’t picked anything up, but if it had been a ghost… Maybe he owed his little brother an excuse. Not that he would ever admit that to said little brother, but still. And that also meant that Phantom had definitely been in the Wayne mansion.

Tim sucked in a deep breath. “That’s definitely worrying.” Phantom didn’t need to know that he wasn't talking about him getting attacked by a sword. Why the fuck had Phantom been at their house?!

Phantom nodded with a laugh. “Right? We didn't even know each other yet! Usually people don’t attack me with a sword until I’ve at least introduced myself first. Or, well, not always, but I can usually at least figure out why they attack me, you know?”

Tim didn’t know and decided not to comment on that worrying statement, instead focusing on gathering information instead. Familiar territory and all that. “What were you even doing in a random big house in the first place?”

“Not just any house!” Phantom wagged his finger. “They’re the Waynes! Which, okay, I didn’t really know a lot about them but my friend said that they are famous or something. And I believe her! The house was like a mansion!”

“Alright,” Tim allowed, congratulating himself on how unbothered he sounded as he parsed through Phantom’s excited rambling. “Why were you in the Wayne mansion, then?”

“Well, several of them have come back from the dead so I just had to check it out for myself!”

Tim felt himself go cold. “…How do you know that?”

“Ghosts take note if someone manages to come back from the dead, you know?” Phantom leaned in and lowered his voice as if sharing an embarrassing secret, “It’s a terrible faux pas.”

“Right. Of course.”

“Yeah!” Phantom nodded before pausing with a frown. “Wait. How do you know that they have died?”

“Of course I do. I’m a detective in Gotham and they are well-known in the city.”

“Hmmm…” Phantom trailed off, and Tim was tensing up in preparation for an argument, but then the ghost perked up as if remembering something. “And Bruce! Bruce Wayne! I’m pretty sure he trains his kids to be like child soldiers or something. Maybe he even uses them as his minions in secret evil schemes!”

Tim felt himself start to sweat. “Let’s—let’s talk to Batman about this.”

“The Gigabat? Why?”

“He might know the best approach.” Might know any approach, cause Tim certainly didn't.

“Alright. Sure,” Phantom agreed easily and followed as Tim hurried out into the corridor, seemingly blissfully unaware of the panic he had caused.

How on earth had they been noted by ghosts without knowing about it? How had Phantom managed to stumble upon this information? If had managed to find the mansion, what else had he managed to put together…? Had he seen the cave?

Tim pushed upon the door to Bruce’s office and walked in as confidently as he could manage at the moment. “B? Phantom has some… concerns he wants to bring up.”

Bruce had turned away from his screens as they entered the room, no doubt ready to admonish them for disturbing him, but something in Tim’s voice must have tipped him off that something was going on because he turned fully towards them and simply demanded, “What is it?”

Phantom didn’t waste any time before bluntly stating, “I think we should investigate the Wayne family. I think they might be a crime syndicate, possibly even supervillains.”

It wasn’t often that Tim saw Bruce at a loss for words. Tim couldn’t blame him as he himself had to restrain himself not to visibly wince at Phantom’s words.

Phantom on the other hand seemed not to notice as he continued, “I thought you would like to know, what with them being in Gotham and all? Really, I’m surprised you didn’t know about them already.”

“Why would you assume they are supervillains?” Bruce asked and Tim was impressed by how calm he sounded.

“Oh, well, you know… The kids all have obvious combat training, the house is riddled with weapons, and the family seems awfully involved with all the major catastrophes in Gotham as well as all the major villains,” Phantom said casually before pausing as he tapped a finger to his lips in thought and adding as an afterthought, “and, of course, because of the secret lair beneath the mansion.”

Well, that answered Tim’s earlier question whether he had seen the Batcave or not. He was very grateful for Bruce and his frankly terrifying poker face as the older man just said, “That’s quite the list…”

Phantom beamed. “Thank you!”

“And why did you start investigating them?”

“Well, on top of all the gossiping grannies mobbing me in the Zone to talk about the young men using the afterlife like some sort of revolving door, I know a thing or two about evil billionaires with hidden identities and Bruce Wayne just screams secrets, you know?”

Bruce didn’t answer, Tim just stared. Phantom clapped his hands, “So. When are we starting the investigation?”

Bruce shook his head, took a deep breath and said, “We’re not investigating them.”

Phantom looked surprised for a split second before raising a single eyebrow, “Is it because he’s so rich? Oh! Is that why you have so many expensive gadgets?”

“What.”

“I mean, that’s why you want to look the other way, right? Because he pays you?” Phantom turned wide eyes on Tim. “All of you?”

Bruce simply stared as Tim managed a weak, “No?” Even if, technically, he was getting paid by Bruce Wayne.

Phantom leaned in closer to Tim and whispered. “Do you guys need help? I’ve beaten up billionaires before, I can do it again.”

“Thanks? But no thanks. Please don’t beat up Bruce Wayne.”

Phantom gasped, turning back to Bruce with way too much delight in his eyes. “It’s consensual? Wait. Does that mean he's your sugar daddy?!”

“This conversation is over.”

“What?! Why?”

“You can’t come in here with baseless assumptions about civilians and expect me to play along.”

“Alright. Not your sugar daddy, I get it,” Phantom said with a wink towards Tim, “But I thought you guys would want to at least look into it a bit more?”

“They Waynes are not a problem,” Bruce all but growled out.

Phantom raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?” The words said as a challenge but Tim could see no anger or annoyance in Phantom’s expression, hear nothing but glee in his voice. It was as if he didn’t want Bruce to really look into them, as if he was just looking to rile him up.

Something about the whole situation made Tim pause.

It was a bit strange that Phantom came to them with this, wasn't it? He had no reason to think that they were connected to the Waynes by more than the city they lived in. He usually did his own thing, and he had done that by going to the mansion at first, hadn't he? So what had changed? Why had he decided to involve Tim?

The glee, the probing questions, the way he slowly revealed more information… It was almost as if he—

“Wait a second. You know!”

Phantom burst out laughing. “Finally! Ancients, I thought you would see through me in like one second flat!”

Tim punched him in the arm. “You’re such an ass! I can’t believe you!” Phantom just kept on cackling.

Unsurprisingly, Bruce seemed to catch on pretty quickly as he stood up from his chair, looming over Phantom threateningly. Or trying to, as Phantom was still floating a good few feet in the air. “And you figured this out from other ghosts?”

Phantom snorted and wiped at his eyes. “Mostly. Contrary to popular belief, the dead do talk. But I wouldn’t worry too much about it, not many of them ever visit the Human Realm and I can guarantee that they have no idea who you are. They are not up to date when it comes to human affairs.”

Bruce frowned and Tim immediately recognized his patented brooding face. “That’s a security risk I hadn’t considered.”

It must have hurt him to admit it, but Tim couldn’t really take any joy in it; he was right there with him. Tim groaned as he dragged a hand through his hair. “Aren’t they supposed to not tell any secrets?!”

Phantom laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, they very much do.”

“Well, considering a certain someone, I guess it shouldn’t come as a surprise,” Tim said with a pointed look at Phantom.

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?!” Phantom exclaimed in mock anger. “Have you guys considered not dying? I mean, man, I thought I had a problem with staying alive.”

Bruce cut them off with a no-nonsense, “You will not tell anyone about this.”

Phantom mimed zipping his lips shut. “Silent as the grave.” Then he pursed them in thought before adding, “On one condition.”

Tim saw the way Bruce tensed and couldn’t help the way he himself also tensed with anticipation. Phantom could ask for anything.

“What?” Bruce asked bitingly.

“I want some of those cookies that were in the oven. They smelled amaaaazing!”

Bruce silently turned back to his monitor, not gracing that with an answer. Tim grabbed a hold of Phantom’s—thankfully currently corporeal—arm and dragged him from the room as he said, “I’m sure Alfred would love to give you some cookies. You can come over for dinner and we can talk.” Tim paused and then continued, “And you can explain what’s going on to Jason and Damian. I’m sure they’re both freaking out.”

“Non-living dinner?” Phantom asked hopefully and the bizarre question almost made Tim stop walking.

“Yeah? Alfred usually cooks it first.”

“Sure, but, you know, does it stay dead?”

“Yes?” Tim asked with equal parts incredulity and dread.

“Alright!” Phantom beamed. “Count me in!”

Tim had a feeling that he had just made a grave mistake.

#dp x dc #dp #danny phantom fic #dp fic #danny phantom fanfic #dp fanfic #phic #there's big gremlin danno energy in this one #and it might be a spiritual (ha!) follow-up to Mad Scientists #just danny getting his revenge #my writing

[bookshelf-dust]

how people can change

steve harrington x gn!byers!reader

word count: 4,427

warnings: swearing, like one use of y/n, mentions of season one steve's bullshit, mentions of death, enemies to friends to more type beat

a/n: my very first *full* steve fic. look at us. who woulda thought? not me. i've been working on this since february. don't look at me, i know. i know. but i think i've gotten some sort of hold on how i'd like to write steve. some of the dialogue (season 2) isn’t mine. (also the title is a lyric from strange by celeste!) let me know what you think, okay? i love you. steve loves you. don't tell me if it's bad.

————

November 1984

The door slams behind you with a deafening thud, and you take the extra five seconds to lock it. You know, that action no one else in your family seems to be capable of performing. 

The house is quiet, and you step over the map of Hawkins sprawling over the hardwoods, careful not to damage Will’s work.

Your keys clang against the table, knocking into your mother’s ashtray. It’s dead quiet again, and you freeze at a subtle interruption in the silence. There’s a muffled sound coming from somewhere else in your home, and frankly you’ve had enough of everything the last couple of days. Which is why Joyce sent you home to get some sleep, to clear your head. 

There’s no denying that you have a soft spot for Will. He’s always been your buddy. And you love Jonathan, you do, and he’s got this sick ability to know what you’re thinking or feeling before you do, but he doesn’t need your protection like Will does. 

Will is your best friend. And he’s got one hell of a support system with you, Jonathan and your mom behind him. He deserves the world. You’ve always thought that. 

You quickly infer that it’s a walkie making the sound, based on the staticky crackle, the slightly muffled voice of whoever’s trying to get through from the other side.

Yours is off—you know it is—so it has to be Will’s. Jonathan was too good for a walkie-talkie.

You step down the hallway, pushing your younger brother’s bedroom door the rest of the way open. You scan the small area for it, listening.

“Code red! This is a code red! I repeat, this is a good red! Shit, is anyone there?”

You snatch up the device, extending the antenna.

“Dustin? Is that you?”

“Jesus christ! Where have you been?” Dustin exclaims, and you swear you can hear someone else interfering with his words.

“Sorry! I wasn’t home. What’s wrong?” You sit on the edge of Will’s bed. It’s so much comfier than yours. 

“It’s Dart! He’s, he’s just…you know what? It’s a long story. Where are you right now?”

This time you definitely hear another voice, and maybe even music.

“Dart? You kept him, right? I fucking knew it, Henderson! You’re so not a good liar.”

“That’s for sure.” You can’t place the voice, not over the walkie and over Dustin’s rambling, but you do catch that and it’s enough to leave you curious. 

The boy starts to argue back, but you cut him off. “Dustin, who are you with?”

“Uh,” he coughs, “Well you see, um…Steve Harrington. I’m with Steve Harrington.”

Dustin gets a severe eye roll from said partner-in-crime, but he brushes it off. 

“What?” You’re so confused. How did that even happen?

“I know! But everyone’s been MIA!”

“Oh my god,” you say, and Dustin can practically see you face-palming.

“Look,” he shoves a handful of rogue curls back under the brim of his hat. “Can you just meet up with us? The old junkyard?”

You push off of Will’s bed, and start walking through the house again, retrieving your things. So much for a nap or eating anything other than hospital Jell-O. What are you gonna say? Fuck no? 

“Yeah, yeah, I'll be there as soon as I can.”

“Thank god,” Dustin breathes. “See you then. Over.”

You make sure to check the batteries in Will’s walkie before you go, and then you’re back in your car again, backing out just as aggressively as your mother (something you said you’d never do). 

————

“Yeah, Farrah Fawcett. You tell anyone I just told you that, and your ass is grass you’re dead, Henderson. Do you understand?” 

“Yep.”

“Okay.”

Dustin goes quiet for a minute, watching each step he takes. The train tracks are old, and there are one too many loose nails for his liking. “So what’s Y/N got against you, man?”

Steve adjusts one of the gloves he’s wearing, trying not to think about the fact that he’s gonna smell like raw meat for who knows how long. “Uh, I don’t know, exactly. Never really talked to them before. But I’d assume it’s the–”

“The assholery?” Dustin interrupts. 

“Dude.”

“What? It’s true.”

“No, yeah, you’re right.” 

Dustin catches the slip in Steve’s attitude almost immediately. “Hey, they’re good, okay? I don’t think you’re a total dick, if that means anything. You’re trying and that’s what matters, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, we will. Thanks, Henderson.”

Dustin gives Steve a winning smile. This kid could rule the world, he thinks. 

“Anytime,” Harrington. He lifts his hand up, awaiting a fist bump that Steve returns without a second thought. 

————

You wander down the trail of raw meat you’ve found, not bothering to even question what's happening or where the meat came from. Frankly, you don’t really want to know. 

At the end of your path, you catch a glimpse of familiar curls, even if they are crushed under the red brim of a hat. 

“Dustin?”

The boy practically gives himself whiplash turning around to face you. 

“Holy shit, I’m so glad you’re here. It’ll be nice to have someone older than me who’s not a total pain in the ass.”

“Hey, I heard that.” 

The voice pulls your attention away from Dustin. When you look up, Steve Harrington is walking out of the biggest vehicle in this abandoned lot: a school bus. He’s wiping his hands on his jeans and pushing the ends of his sleeves up.

Dustin looks at you. “You guys have to be acquaintances at the least, right?”

You nod at him, feeling your face burn. If there’s a word for a less-than-acquaintance, you don’t know it. But that’s probably where your relationship with this boy lies. King Steve isn’t really someone you just miss. 

But yeah, you know him. You know he’s a dick. 

“Hi.” Steve pushes his sunglasses up into his hair and crosses his arms. 

“Hi.”

You only look at him for a moment before your eyes are back on Dustin. The younger boy notices the tension radiating from you, and honestly, he gets it. Steve Harrington wasn’t exactly the person he’d planned on spending his day with, but here he was. Desperate times call for desperate measures or whatever.

“So what are we doing?” You ask.

Dustin puts his thumbs underneath the straps of his backpack, bouncing on the balls of his feet a little. “It’s a long story. Best if we talk while we work.”

You roll your eyes at him, but follow the thirteen-year-old wherever he wants to go. You’re not sure you could deny Dustin Henderson anything. 

————

You watch as Max, a young girl you’ve just met, stomps up the steps of the ladder you’ve rigged inside the mess of a bus that you’re camped out in. 

Your chest aches because what Dustin just said to her was rude, it was rude, and you can’t believe the two of them. You sit, arms crossed and leg shaking up and down, glaring at Steve.

You find it hard to believe that after everything you’ve learned tonight, about Dart, about Mews—which you’re never going to get over because you only visit Dustin’s house for his cat, never him—that this is what they’re doing now.

“That’s good,” Steve says. “Just show her you don’t care.” 

Dustin is pacing, hands deep in his pockets. “I don’t,” he breathes.

Steve winks. Watching the two of them is like watching a tennis match. You don’t even like tennis.

“Why are you winking, Steve?” 

You drag your hand down your face, sick of hearing this stupid ass conversation. When Dustin sits, the constant clink of metal where Steve keeps flicking his lighter open over and over starts to give you a headache. 

“Fuck, Steve, would you quit it already?” 

He scoffs, snapping the lid to his Zippo closed harder than he had been before. “What’s your problem?”

“You’re pissing me off, that’s my problem.”

Steve’s brow furrows. He doesn’t really understand the sudden need for aggression. 

“Is this really the time for you to be yelling at me?”

“Is this really the time for you to be a dick?”

Dustin jerks the antenna on his walkie down, clearly sick of the two of you. “Would you children stop bickering? This is a life or death situation we have going on here.”

“I’d prefer death,” you proclaim. 

Dustin glares at you. “I can arrange that if you’d really rather die, than act civil for one evening.”

“I think all of the civility,” you gesture vaguely with your hands, “went out the window when you asked me to come help fight demo-dogs.”

Steve snorts at your words, and you glare at him, an “oh, is that funny?” look on your face. 

Dustin rearranges the hat on his head, stuffing his curls underneath it once again. “Alright. I’m gonna go check on our status, you two…work shit out, okay?”

“Dude,” Steve starts, “I’m older than you. I don’t have to listen to your instructions.” He gestures vaguely with his hands.

Dustin flips him off, and that’s the only response Steve receives, leaving the two of you alone in the bus.

You remain quiet, hoping that if you do you might just disappear or dissolve into the cracked leather of the seat you're sitting on. Then there really wouldn’t be any form of confrontation.

Steve starts flipping the lid to his Zippo open and shut repeatedly again, but this time it doesn’t annoy you. In fact, it gives you something to focus on, and you know that if you had one you’d be doing the same exact thing. 

You wonder if he’s nervous. Or just bored. 

Your knee begins to bounce when you realize that he’s looking at you, that he’s stopped messing with the lighter. But you refuse to look back, staring instead at the way the moonlight glints off of the metal in between his fingers. 

“So what’s your problem with me?”

The way Steve says those words is so unlike the way he’s spoken the rest of the day, the way he’s behaved with Dustin, that you feel a pang in your chest. 

He sounds like he used to. 

“Did you even hear that? How conceded you just sounded? Like it’s funny that I might have a problem with you, king Steve?”

Obviously the use of his nickname hits a nerve. He shoves the lighter back into his pocket and sits up, tucking his hands under his knees. 

“Would you just cut the shit and tell me what your problem is then?”

You sit up, matching his stance. There’s a part of you that wants to piss him off. You ache for it. 

“You’re a dick, that’s my problem.”

Steve scoffs. 

“That’s it? Like I don’t already know that?”

You roll your eyes, oblivious to the fact that all three of the younger kids you’re with have their heads hung over the escape latch in the top of the bus, listening eagerly. 

“You think I’m just gonna put up with you, Harrington? I’m sorry, did you forget the slut shaming you and your shitty friends did publicly last fall? Because I sure as hell didn’t. I didn’t forget that you walk around like you fucking own the entirety of Hawkins because you’re swimming in daddy’s money. I didn’t forget that your girlfriend took my best friend away from me.”

You stop, and Steve just looks at you. You realize how heavy you’re breathing and subconsciously watch the steady movement of his chest, trying to match the pace and calm down. You hadn’t meant to get worked up like that. But sometimes…sometimes shit just happens. 

Steve sighs. Honestly he feels a little sick. And he could argue with you some more, say that you don’t know what you’re talking about, that that’s the past, that he’s getting better. But that feels shallow. It feels meaningless. Because he knows it’s true. That in worrying about only himself or getting the girl or impressing whoever, he hurt loads more people than he realized. 

It’s such bullshit, he thinks. This life he’s been living.

“You know, I’ve gotten plenty of earfuls about my actions from Dustin, I promise you that much. He can be very mean.” 

You snort, considering there’s absolutely no denying that. “He’s a smart kid.” 

Steve nods. He’s trying to think of a way to respond. He’s not good with words. 

“Look, I-I know I’m a dick, okay?” he starts. You decide to be brave and look at him. He seems to like that. The eye contact. It’s like it lets him know you’re paying attention. He doesn’t get a lot of that, not away from school. 

“The thing with Nancy,” he gestures with his hands, looking away from you and at the wall of the bus, like it hurts him to talk about or something. “I don’t know. My solution to not getting what I wanted was apparently to take it out on her. Tommy H. proposed the idea, and I didn’t stop it.”

“You know I cleaned it off, right?” he continues. 

You uncross your arms and sit up, criss crossing your legs instead. “No. I didn’t know that.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like I broadcasted the information across Hawkins. Tommy and Carol don’t even know.”

Oh. The fact that they didn’t know tells you that he did it without needed recognition. He did it because he wanted to.

“I just—she saw it. And then there was the whole thing…”

You start to grin before you catch yourself, but he sees it. 

“It’s okay, you can laugh. I got the shit beat out of me.”

“You deserved it.”

He can’t argue with that. He won’t argue with it. “You’re right. I did. I said and did a lot that day that I regret.”

You nod, and then you’re both just looking at one another. It’s quiet out here, the same quiet you get at home, where you can hear the crickets, where you know there will be lightning bugs in the warmer months, free to roam uninterrupted by human activity. 

Steve pushes his hair from his forehead, and though he sees you track the movement of his hand, he doesn’t point it out.

“What did you mean about your friend?”

If you’re being honest with yourself, you hadn’t intended for that to come out, but being in such close proximity to Steve in this moment had just made everything spill out. 

You try to wave him off. “That was a whole thing. I didn’t mean to spill my guts like that.”

“No, it’s okay, I want to know. If you want to tell me, that is.”

You nod, chewing at your thumb nail now. Steve has the urge to reach forward and pull it free so you won’t hurt yourself, but he doesn’t. Instead he stays still and quiet, watching you contemplate a while. 

Eventually he decides to keep going. 

“I’m trying, you know,” he tells you. You look up and it gives him that little push to continue speaking. “To be better. I know you think I’m a total dick, and you’re not wrong, I know that, but I really am trying to be better. To be a good influence on those little shits.” He quirks his head upwards where he knows all three of his charges are eavesdropping, without a doubt. 

You take a second and look at him. Really look at him. He seems to carry himself differently, though it’s not something you’d notice if you weren’t looking. He’s not dressed like his mommy picked out his outfit. He looks messy. The mess draws you in. 

“I believe you. And I-I know I shouldn’t stereotype you, but it’s just—”

“I am a walking stereotype,” Steve grins. So do you.

“Yeah. I guess so. But I believe that you’re working on it. I suppose some people don’t remain assholes forever.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, though a little distracted. You still haven’t told you what you meant, but that’s not what’s really bugging him. 

There’s this pull inside him. This longing for a friend. A real friend. Not someone he knows just because their dads were up each other's asses, or someone he just sits with at lunch because they’re of the same status quo. 

And he just feels so alone right now. What with Nancy, this girl he thought he was in love with and everything, but clearly she doesn’t feel the same. What’s he even supposed to do with that? Did he ever actually know anything about her? 

It doesn’t matter. 

What matters is that he’s sitting here with you, hanging out with thirteen-year-olds and hiding from creatures Steve’s brain can’t even begin to decipher. 

“Barb,” you say. Steve panicked a little internally at the mention of her name, considering. But he keeps his eyes on you, focused on each word that leaves your mouth. “She was my best friend, in middle school that is.”

He nods. Oh. Oh. 

“We were still close when we got to high school, had a little group and everything, right? And even though high school kinda fucks everything up, I didn’t want to believe that would happen to our little partnership, you know?” 

He nods again, trying his best to pay attention. He’s trying harder than he ever has in school. He probably shouldn’t ever say that out loud.

“Anyways, she was my best friend. She was all I knew, and then we got to lovely Hawkins High, and she met Nancy. Nancy and I never really clicked, even when we tried. I guess it’s because I’ve always thought she was a pretentious bitch—sorry, Steve—but I don’t know. We just fell apart after that.”

“So Barb had Nancy and I had…no one. And the way my brain saw it was Nancy took my best friend from me, and then Nancy started seeing you, and so I saw those two from across the cafeteria, lounging with the popular kids. With you. And then she died.”

Steve is looking at you in a way he’s never looked at you before. Like he’s in awe of you. And it’s not anything negative. It’s warm. Understanding. Like something you’ve said has straightened something out in his brain, sorted something he couldn’t figure out on his own. 

“S-so it was like we took her from you, in a way?” he asks. 

“Yeah. And you didn’t. God, you didn’t. But it just felt like this…” you trail off, searching for the right words.

“Domino effect?”

“Yeah! Yeah. Exactly. And it’s not your fault, not at all. But I guess I already saw you as some dickish rich kid and that gave me another reason to stay the fuck away from you. And now that I’m saying it out loud I realize how awful it sounds because people change, you know?”

“No, I get it. I’ve been an asshole, and I’m sure I still am—Dustin can attest to that—but there are rich assholes that don’t change or probably won’t ever change. I know a few of them.”

You go quiet again. Steve doesn’t want you to stop talking. He’s starting to think he likes the sound of your voice. 

“It’s good that you’re changing, Steve. I’m sorry I said you were such a dick.”

A breathy laugh leaves his throat. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m sorry for…everything.”

“Maybe we can make a truce or something. Start over. It’s not like we really know each other that well anyhow.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s cool. Whatever you want.” He means that. He thinks he’d do whatever you wanted him to. 

“Okay. Maybe we can just try and figure it out.”

“I’d like that,” Steve says. He stops himself from proclaiming that he wants to try and fix this with you. Because you’re listening to him. You’re not mad. He doesn’t want you to disappear on him after this. 

You give him a small smile and he swears he might cry. Not that that feeling lasts. 

“Hey!” Dustin is leaning down into the bus, hands clasped together. “I’m so glad we’ve got this handled, but we’ve got a code red, so let’s get this show on the road, yeah?”

————

June 1985

The door to the back room swings open, a frazzled boy rushing in. You drop your candy wrapper on the table, and Robin keeps talking about the girl that you missed coming in this morning. She was “such a babe.”  

“Hello?” Steve stands in front of the both of you, hands on his hips. You have to fight back a laugh. 

Your eyes find Steve’s immediately, and you swear they soften, but maybe you’re imagining it. You nudge Robin’s leg where your foot is propped up on one of the supports under her chair. 

She stops flailing and looks up, seeing Steve’s hand raised where he’d been about to snap to get her attention. She quirks a brow. “Don’t you snap at me, Harrington! This is important shit.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Could you two come and help me? I’m dying out here!”

It’s one of the hottest days of the year, and Scoops has had a line since it opened at ten. 

You look at your watch. “My shift doesn’t start for…fifteen minutes.” He rolls his eyes at you, though the gesture is void of any malice it could possibly hold. 

“Yeah, well this is supposed to be my break, so get out there, Buckley!”

She stands, though she’s pouting. “Come on.”

“You took the job,” he says, shoving her through the door. Robin gives him a look that you can’t see, but you can practically feel it from across the small room. 

Steve lets out an exaggerated sigh, ripping off the hat he’s been wearing and throwing it on the table in front of you. 

You watch him rummage through a bag before he emerges from its depths with a banana and throws himself down in the chair across from you, lifting your leg up from where you’d moved it to occupy the seat Robin had abandoned. His hand is warm on the bare skin of your calf, and he shifts the chair some, laying your leg across both of his. 

“Steve.”

“Huh?” He peels the banana, aggressively fast actually, and rips off a chunk, popping it into his mouth. 

“Why do you have a banana?” 

He meets your eyes. “Snack, duh.” He chews, and then gestures at the closed window. “Been working up a sweat out there I think I deserve a break.”

You grin at him, and he feels like he might hit the floor. 

“Want some?” Steve pulls off a chunk and holds it out to you. 

“Did you wash your hands?”

He gasps, mid-chew, and forces himself to swallow. “D-did I—yes, I washed my hands, mom, I’m not four.”

“Eh,” Robin’s voice breaks your little bubble. She’s pulled the window open–that way she can eavesdrop– propping herself up on her elbows. 

That makes you laugh, and when you smile your cheek is full of banana and Steve swears something is breaking inside of him. 

“Gang up on me then why don’t you,” he says, handing you the last piece he’s got left. He tosses the peel in the trash, “what do you want anyhow, Robin?” 

“Your break is up, and her shift has started. Let’s get to slinging ice cream, shitheads!”

You wipe your hands on your shorts and hop up. Steve doesn’t move, just looks at you. 

“C’mon, Steven. It’ll be lunch sooner than later.”

He grins. His eyes look tired and you wonder if he slept any last night. He told you once recently that he doesn’t always sleep well, that sometimes he has to listen to tapes in order to keep his head from being so busy, to keep the thoughts from being so loud. 

Steve has told you a lot since last fall. There’s a significant bit more that you know that’s more than what he’s given Robin, but you know he’ll let her in. He just needs the time. 

Though sometimes you think he might be giving you everything. The parts of himself he’s never shown anyone else. Because you’ve been such a good listener, and Steve’s never really had that before. 

He wishes he had the balls to tell you more. But he can’t fuck it up this time. Not with you. You’re too good.

Steve is your best friend now. You know that. He knows it.

If yourself from a year ago could see you now, she’d probably knock your fucking teeth in. But he’s just so much more than you thought. You’re not sure you’ll ever forgive yourself for not thinking there could be more in him, though he’s told you not to be upset. You’ve told him the same when he berates himself for not having paid you more attention in school.

It’s the past. You can’t live there. And today, you’re scooping ice cream for pre-sticky kids, for shitty pay, but it doesn’t matter because you have him. You have Robin. 

You stick out your hand, and Steve takes it without a second thought. His palm engulfs yours, skin warm and a little calloused. 

“We can watch whatever you want tonight.”

He squeezes your hand. You and Robin are supposed to have a sleepover with him tonight. He suggested he sleep in a guest room and you two have his bed, but Robin said she needs to be cuddled. You said you’re not letting him sleep anywhere but his bed. 

“I thought you wanted to watch Girls Just Want to Have Fun.”

“I always wanna watch that. But you can pick first, Stevie.”

Stevie. His stomach flips at that. You don’t let it out often, but when you do it’s like Steve might just die right there. 

He straightens, deal clearly made, and you pull him up–not that you need to. 

You push through the door with him, and immediately regret it. It’s like the soccer moms can smell your fear, and you know it. 

“Breathe,” Steve says. “Dustin’s here.”

He is. The entire party. That you can deal with. 

You think you could deal with an absurd line and angry mothers for the rest of your life if it meant assembling Dustin and Lucas’ weird orders. Even if you have to endure Will’s questioning looks and his pleas that you bring some ice cream home. If you have to listen to Robin’s word vomit.

If it meant spending time with Steve, you’d do it. 

God, how shit changes.

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