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#i mean i guess it also goes that i’m really not into the ideas of idols or celebrities bc the whole culture around them
majoringinsarcasm · 5 months
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Ace Attorney reboot where everything is the same but Miles Edgeworth’s is obsessed with FNAF rather than steel Samurai. And the Steel Samurai murder cases where the costumes play a huge part are in fact the suits in fnaf.
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dontneedmyheart · 1 year
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Do you have any fic recs for the 9-1-1 boys? I'll admit, I've never watched the show but they are everywhere and I need some sort of validation of them getting together, even if the show hasn't (yet?). Is that weird?
Okay, this has been sitting in my inbox for SO LONG, I apologise!! I haven’t been very organised with what I’ve read and originally I wanted to do more research and go through my bookmarks but I don’t think I’ll ever have the time to do that in the near future shjnhj SO. I don’t know if all of these will make sense if you haven’t watched the show but I’ll rec the fics I’ve read recently that I loved a lot.
In The Gray You Are Golden by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels • a zombie apocalypse AU, this was so good and played really well with canon elements
if it weren’t for second chances by alasse • an AU where Bobby adopts a teenage Buck, this was very sweet and healing
you give yourself away by woodchoc_magnum • season 6 spec fic, Buck spirals into breakdown, this broke my heart and then put it back together
this must be the place by euadnes • an AU where Buck gets shot too, very beautifully written fic about healing and recovery
The Best Lie is a Truth (My Best Mask is My Face) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels • fake relationship, love a good fake relationship fic, this was excellent
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beepmon · 10 months
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it’s not that i don’t think guys can be cutesy but there’s something that feels so manufactured about the why male idols are presented that makes it feel funny to me? like i’m not laughing bc i think guys can’t be cute or that male cuteness is funny or anything like that it just feels so performative that i can’t take it seriously? and obsvly i’m not talking about real idols i’m talking about fictional ones like en****st*rs or id**olish7 these characters i can’t take seriously bc they don’t feel authentic to me i can’t really accept them
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aashi-heartfilia · 5 months
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The hypocrisy of Jinshi and MaoMao
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*light novel spoilers*
I just love how hypocritical MaoMao's nature is. She yells at Jinshi for being a 'Masochist' and yet we see that she's no different. Now, by definition Masochist is a person who drives sexual gratification from their own pain and humiliation, plus it relates to Jinshi's tendency to do self harm (like burning his skin with a brand)
And what is MaoMao's most favourite thing in this world?
POISON
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She literally takes pleasure in consuming it and no one can convince me otherwise. Plus she uses dangerous plants and animals and snakes whatnot in the name of her so-called experiments. Her dad may call her a 'mad Scientist' but that is a direct indication of self harm.
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And she calls Jinshi a Masochist.
I mean, think about it! The amount of anxiety she gives to Jinshi! She came prepared with a vomit inducing medicine but even she had no idea whether it would work or not. She was just hoping it would work in the salt chapter.
And the same goes for her hand, on which she has conducted countless experiments. One flower even burned her skin and its marks never left her skin. She said it was all for her hobby. What kind of weird hobby is that? Maybe, our little adorable mad scientist is just like that.
One brands his own skin, while the other takes heavenly pleasure in consuming poison.
So my point is, Jinshi and MaoMao are not that different as one might think they are and that's why their dynamic works so well.
Let's look at the excerpts from volume 5:
She didn’t know how long they sat that way. All she knew was that Jinshi was looking down at her with a faintly triumphant expression, as if he saw that the breath had reached every corner of her body now. He wiped away the tears that had sprung to her eyes as she struggled to breathe. It was then that Maomao felt a flash of intense anger. “I said that if you were going to kill me, you should do it with poison,” she told him. “I refuse to let you poison yourself,” Jinshi said, his fingers tracing her lips. “You can’t pretend you didn’t know that you were one of the candidates. As much as I’m sure you’d like to.” He wasn’t done, either: “Who was that man, anyway? I’m sure you’re not a dancer.” So he had been watching them! “I was just paying for my drink,” Maomao said. “It didn’t cost much.” She tried to look away, but with his hand on her head, she really couldn’t.
Jinshi just choked her and yet he refuses to let MaoMao poison herself. A lot of people misinterpret this scene, and don't like it all that much, saying it was just fanservice stuff but this is how I see it: Jinshi wasn't trying to kill MaoMao, he was just trying to make MaoMao submit to him for once (even if the way he did it was very wrong, but guess he's kinky like that). MaoMao is actively trying to harm herself and Jinshi loves MaoMao a lot, he cannot just let her kill herself.
It was more about him trying to exert his dominance in their weirdish - complicated relationship and that also backfires on him as we see in the next volume that MaoMao escapes Jinshi's grasps using Pairin's techniques.
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And then they both continue to avoid each other in the entire next volume! Because they both realised that they have crossed boundaries.
They both are hypocrites.
And they both refuse to accept their feelings.
In one of the later volumes, she gives Jinshi a piece of her mind on how he should tell her everything clearly, unequivocally, what he feels, and he literally declares that "he will make her his wife", which is nice and all but look at the wording MaoMao used here....
Excerpts from LN Vol 7, chapter 19 called "A man and a woman play the game"
"You’re forever telling me I need to use my words, Master Jinshi, but are you in any position to criticize? Everything you say to me, everything you do, it’s like it’s calculated to save you from ever having to actually say what you mean! To make me figure it all out! You know, you remind me of someone. You act exactly like a man who used to come by our brothel all the time. He was in love with one of the girls, but he would never just come out and say it. He thought it should be obvious from the way he acted. He was so sure he had a good thing going with this woman that he never sent her so much as a letter. I remember how forlorn he looked when someone else swooped in and snatched her away! He kept coming to the brothel after that—to get drunk and whine to the ladies. Well, in my opinion, he could have avoided all that heartbreak if he’d told the woman how he felt. Clearly, unequivocally, so that she knew where they stood. It was the least he could have done!”
Everything came out in a torrent. She felt like she’d said it all in one breath. It was strange, she thought, to hear so many words come out of her own mouth. She was mystified. Jinshi was no less startled, but the shock soon left his face, replaced by something else. He got up off the bed and stared down at Maomao.
Shit. Now I’ve done it. She’d given him a piece of her mind, and he was about to give her one back.
“So I should be clear, should I? Unequivocal? I should say what I mean? If I did, would you actually listen to me? Is that what you’re telling me? I’m going to hold you to that! Right this minute. I’ll say it all. Don’t plug your ears—listen to me!” He grabbed her hands as she was in the process of trying to put her fingers in her ears. He took a breath. He was looking at Maomao, but somehow he seemed almost embarrassed. Finally he managed, “Now listen to me, y—I mean, Maomao! Listen close! I am going to make you my wife!”
It's one heck of a chapter and I suggest you give it a go! The title of the chapter says "A man and a woman play the game" as if to emphasize the very fact that both Jinshi and MaoMao are playing the game.
Jinshi has never confessed his true feelings before this chapter and only implied that he wanted to make MaoMao his wife.
The implications were heavy though on Jinshi's part, and as smart as MaoMao is, anyone would have guessed that MaoMao was one of the candidates for Jinshi's consort. Even the clothes she received (the ones she wore to the banquet) were also provided by Jinshi along with the hairpin. It is never stated outright but seeing as the hairpin was from Jinshi, the clothes are also implied to be the same.
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More or less she's always deliberately ignoring the possibility of having anything to do with him, that is more than professional. Some may call it denial, I call it dense. Maybe, to some extent, she herself is not aware of her feelings because she never lets herself feel anything.
Even Suiren pointed it out pretty early in the manga, that maybe it's MaoMao's way of being reserved. We need to keep in mind that MaoMao is an unreliable narrator and it's more of what she does, rather than what she says that makes a difference.
Even in the chapter that I have quoted above, she had every reason to leave Jinshi, she wasn't working for him after all. But she stayed to make tea for him, even after the fact that she had a long day too. She was almost just as exhausted as Jinshi and yet she was there preparing medicinal tea, so that he could get a better sleep.
Maybe she herself is yet to realise just how deep her feelings run. Till vol 12 she seems to have accepted them, but she still is yet to acknowledge their depth. Maybe it's because of her childhood.
It's not a traumatic backstory but MaoMao had a sad childhood nonetheless....
She was raised by her grand uncle and her real father was eccentric, who scared her. Her mother must also appear to be kind of demonic to her, since she was desperate enough to cut MaoMao's Pinky finger and send it to Lahan. So it's safe to say that MaoMao never received proper parental affection. And adding to the fact that, a brothel is not exactly an ideal place for raising a child.... especially when the birth of MaoMao was the one thing that brought the brothel to its knees...even if being born wasn't her choice.
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Plus MaoMao stated it herself that when she was a baby, no one would come to sooth her until their work was finished, implying that even if MaoMao and her brothel sisters are close, they are not that close. A mother's love is different and she never received it. No one can love you more than your mother and MaoMao was deprived of that. She soon realised that no one was coming. Life is hard and she has no choice but to face it!
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So, she got interested in poison.
Maybe she doesn't love herself or her life as much as she says / pretends she does. She's always like "yeah, I would very much like my head to be with my body" and "if I stay low profile maybe I can survive here" etc but maybe deep down that's not the case. Maybe that's why she loves poison so much. The implications are crazy.
And to break MaoMao's shell, Jinshi has no choice but to be a bit more forceful at times? At least that's how I interpret that choking scene. Jinshi was angry at MaoMao because she deliberately suggested him to marry consort Rishu and danced with Rikuson.
Even if Jinshi never said it outright, he was giving hints the entire time.
But well the tables turned and MaoMao topped him instead, lol (vol 7) and later we even see that our little stray cat has accepted Jinshi and she's ready to be in a relationship with him (vol 12).
Plus she is intrigued by the process of birth (she wants to eat her baby's placenta, it's kind of uggghhh.... but anyways, that MaoMao we're talking about, she's just weird that way)
Maybe not after too long she'll realise that if she has to give birth, she can only have it with Jinshi and no one else.
~Sunshine
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luveline · 2 months
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ooo i love that you’re giving me free reign over ideas for pregnant bombshell and spencer.. maybe something really angsty where reader’s hormones are getting the best of her and she’s just really pissed at spencer for absolutely no reason? hope that makes sense
thank you for requesting <3 pregnant!reader
“I’m serious, Spencer Reid, you better leave me alone,” you warn. 
Spencer gawps. Morgan glances between you both in concern, having seen hundreds of your conversations over the years and never one this sour. “But I–”
“I’m not kidding.” You glare at him, press your hand to your mouth, and spin away from him to march up the steps to Hotch’s office. 
Spencer attempts to follow you. Morgan holds him back with one hand to the chest. “I wouldn’t if I were you.” 
Spencer watches you until you’re gone. He frowns, upset in his eyes and his model pout. “I don’t even know what I did.” 
“Is this a common occurrence?” 
“No, never! But these last couple days she’s always angry with me.” 
“It’s the baby hormones,” Morgan assures his friend, patting him and pushing him toward his desk. “Or you did something and don’t remember.” 
“If I did, I really don’t.” 
You stew in Hotch’s office. Morgan can imagine the conversation, your annoyance and Hotch’s light bemusement, your wondering if you’re being too harsh, and Hotch giving an amiable, neutral answer. Morgan can also imagine what Spencer thinks you’re doing, watching as his shoulders sink further and further down. 
Spencer scratches a stressed hand through his hair. “I’ll go say sorry,” he says. 
“Maybe that’s a good idea, but not yet. She needs time to cool down.” 
Spencer frowns at his hands. “I don’t like when she’s mad at me like this. We’re always on the same page, I never have to guess what she’s thinking anymore.” He pulls at the neck of his shirt and his tight tie. “I feel like I’m twenty four again.” 
“This is all new for her,” Morgan says. What Spencer doesn’t know is that he’s making this up as he goes. Spencer messed irretrievably for all he knows. “You just need to remember why she’s doing it in the first place, right? She’s loved you for years, one pregnancy induced moment of rage won’t change that. Probably.”
Spencer isn’t appeased. Worse when you emerge from Hotch’s office and walk straight to your desk without glancing Spencer’s way, and worse again when he attempts to talk to you and you shake your head. “Please, Spencer. Just leave me alone.” 
Spencer spends the day in agony. The worry of what he’s done eats at him, and he attempts to make it up to you, ultimately making it worse. You frown at every cup of tea or water he brings you, glaring at the plate he serves you for lunch. The bullpen of the office sags under your fury. Spencer doesn’t eat a single bite all day.  
It’s by chance that Morgan witnesses the full fallout on his way to the bathroom. You’re in the hallway just on the way to Penelope’s office with Spencer, who’s clearly followed you to give apologies and concern aplenty. He’s caught your hand.
“I don’t even know why you’re mad,” Spencer says hopelessly. He sounds heartbroken.
You look at your hands for a long while, seconds stretching and aching, before you hold your stomach and look to the side. “I’m sorry–” you say, cutting yourself off as your voice wobbles unsurely.
“What?” Spencer asks, startled. 
“I don’t know,” —your breath shudders— “why I’m being so mean to you–”
“Angel–”
“I feel like I’m suffocating in my own skin and you’re just making me so angry hovering because I can look after myself, but I’m starting to think I can’t, and I look really stupid in my maternity clothes–”
“What’s wrong with your clothes?”
You huff sharply.
“I’m sorry,” he says, holding out his hands. “I’m so sorry. I know you’re just really pregnant right now and the hormones are messing with you,” —you scoff, but Spencer soldiers on— “I love how you look, and I love you even when you’re angry with me, and I’m sorry you feel claustrophobic. What can I do?” 
Your glare softens slowly. “You’re not mad at me?” 
“You’re mad at me, lovely.” 
Morgan thinks that last bit is a nice touch. You wipe your blurry eyes and squeeze his hands, still breathing too fast and too hard but the anger having completely drained from your features, returning you to your usual beautiful state. You measure his gaze for a while, before resting your forehead on his chest, your bump in the way of a proper hug. “Do you still love me?” you ask quietly.
“No.” He laughs and kisses your temple, using his index finger to turn your face by your hairline carefully, giving him better view of your face. “Yeah, I still love you. I always do. I’m sorry I upset you that much, I’m not trying to smother you.” 
“You didn’t, Spence, I upset myself, and I took it out on you… I’m sorry I was mean to you, earlier, you didn’t deserve it. It’s just hard.” You shake your head. “You never make me feel bad for being a diva and I wish you would.” 
“Would that make you feel better?” 
You sigh. “No, please keep being my sweetheart. Please.” 
Spencer says something too quiet for Morgan to hear, but can be read from the lips as a promise as he sweeps his hand up and down your back. 
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 4 months
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I never really made a request before so that's my first time wish u like it
So I was thinking about some fluff drunk y/n acting all stupid and flirty to bakugo who doesn't like drinking around her because he knows that they both won't have someone to send them home if they got drunk
[Secretly caring]
*Whispering* he also gets a bit touchy if she let's him
*friends to lovers thing*
Wish my explanation was good enough and can't wait for the next chapter of FBRC <3
OUUU this is such a cute idea ! i’m so happy, this is my first request as well so we both have a milestone LMAOOO ! i tried to honour your request as best i could ! <3 (OU and AAAAA im glad you like FBRC ! i hope you’ll keep reading !)
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bakugou katsuki considers himself a mature, mostly rational person.
despite what others, media outlets and even his own damn friends might say, katsuki thinks he’s really not that bad.
sure, he’s flipped off a camera man, cursed out another one��and another one—but who doesn’t have a bad day once in a while ?
he’s changed since he was a kid, he doesn’t get set off as easy anymore most days. he’s learned to be more patient, a little more levelheaded. that’s at least something his shitty friends will tell you.
he’s changed from when he was a kid, he’s grown now. he’s a man.
but right now katsuki feels like smashing your head in with a brick.
"kah-su-kiiiiiiiii... m'sleeppyy" you whine, leaning against his shoulder.
katsuki doesn't regret a lot, but he sure as hell regrets accepting to go out for drinks with you. again. you had said something about 'celebrating getting a day off after a while'.
"never should've accepted goin' out with yer ass." he laments grumpily. despite the fact he says this every single time he goes out to drink with you, he never seems to learn his lesson. he never seems to want to learn his lesson.
truth is, katsuki has grown a lot since his UA days but one thing he hasn't outgrown is his giant rampant crush on you. it's embarrassing how tightly you've got him wrapped around your finger, how easily you can get him to do whatever you want as long as you just asked him to.
he complains and grumbles about it but he'll never, ever, say no to you.
which is how he always, always, ends up in this predicament.
katsuki snaps out of his thoughts when he hears you sniffle.
"y-ya don't like.." you sniffle again " ya don't like hangin' out wif me ?"
fuck.
immediatly it's like a switch had been flipped. he moves his arm so he can wrap it around you and have you lean against his chest. you always got emotional when you were a little too drunk, that usually meant it was time to go.
"no—no, s'not that. i—" he sucks in a breath, cheeks heating up despite the fact he knows there's barely any chance you'll remember this. usually he'd remind you of your embarrassing drunk moments as revenge for making him take you home and taking care of your ass because you were too drunk to, but he'll refrain from mentioning this part.
"i do like hangin' out with you, dummy. quit talkin' stupid." he shushes you softly, unconsciously rubbing your arm comfortingly.
"b-but you said, you regretted goin' out wit me" you pout. fuck, you're cute. katsuki has to fight off the urge to lean down and kiss it away.
"i say a lot of stuff i don't always mean, sweets. you know that." he replies " 'f i didn't wanna hang out with ya, i wouldn't."
you hum pensively, leaning against his shoulder as you think. you smell like something sweet, he can't quite track down what it is, but it's making him dizzy. you've always had the ability to make him lose focus. you're so close and you smell so good and katsuki feels like he's drunk.
"mmyeah...guess that's true" you hiccup. you raise your hand up to trace his jaw line with your finger and he refuses to look at you but he can hear the cheeky little smile in your voice "you like hanging out with me, right ? that's why you always say yes when i ask !
he scoffs "i only say yes 'cuz i know you'd just end up goin' out anyway, you'd get yourself in trouble." he's stiff as a fucking board, he feels like if he moves a little too much he'll say something he shouldn't.
"no i wouldn't" you argue, then you reach your whole hand up to squeeze his cheeks "but even if i did, i know you'd come to save me, mr. dynamight" you giggle
he's so sick of you. katsuki's been in plenty of situations where he was this close to death, but he's certain you're gonna be the death of him.
"time for bed" he grumbles. he lifts you by your shoulders slightly until you can properly stand on your feet "m'getting you home, yer too drunk to be up right now" he asserts, chuckling when you pout at him when he flicks your forehead
"you're not the boss o' me ! 'm completely—oops" you trip forward but katsuki catches you with ease, he's always there to.
you look up at him innocently and he looks down at you with one eyebrow raised "you were sayin' ?" he sassed.
you roll your eyes at him and push off him slightly to stand more comfortably, you stick your tongue out at him. " i said—i'm fine..but if you wanna take me home that badly, i guess i'll allow it" you shrug. katsuki squints then shakes his head, smiling to himself. you catch him and giggle, he can't cover up his chuckle fast enough. you must look stupid to the other people in the bar just sitting there giggling at each other, he realizes. then he remembers he could honestly not give enough of a shit about what these other drunk losers thought, the only drunk loser he cared about was right here in his arms.
right where you belonged.
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you're out like a light by the time katsuki's brought you back to your apartment, but he doesn't mind, he'd expected it anyway. he carries you like a sack of potatoes to your floor. he's glad he'd managed to grab your keys before you fell asleep, having to wrestle the keys from you and risk you getting cranky at him doesn't sound all that nice right now.
he helps you take off your shoes and he's extremely grateful you're just lucid enough to change by yourself. he helps you clean up and brush your teeth, then carries you to bed even though he knows damn well you could walk just fine. not before getting you to down a glass of water.
you're annoying when you're drunk and sleepy, you're whiny and everything is too much work for you. katsuki grumbles right along with you, calling you a pain in the ass, then promptly taking it back when he sees you tearing up again. he grumbles and complains but he knows he wouldn't let anyone else do it for him. not only because he's sure whoever it is wouldn't even be able to do this half as well as he does, but also because despite his better judgement, despite the fact you piss him off to no bounds, you're his to take care of. and he'd be damned if he let anyone else take care of what's his.
so you whine, and he complains, but he truly wouldn't have it any other way.
you insist on wanting him to stay with you and he knows he probably shouldn't. he likes you too much to just casually stay here with you, he knows he won't be able to sleep and he's just going to keep staring at your lashes fluttering as you dream. but you pout at him and plead him so sweetly, he really can't say no to you.
he likes you too much.
he steals one of your hoodies and a pair of sweatpants (he technically isn't stealing—since they're both his to begin with) and climbs into bed with you. you immediatly latch onto him, nuzzling into his shoulder before thanking him.
"for what ?" he mutters sleepily, slowly wrapping his arms around you.
"for.." you interrupt yourself with a yawn, he chuckles "for always takin' care of me..you're the best."
if you were more sober, he'd simply answer with a cocky "tell me something i don't know." but you're not and katsuki's already too far gone, so he squeezes your waist in appreciation then responds " i'm always gonna take care of you."
he's suprised by how soft and sappy he sounds but you suprise him even more when you lean up slightly to press a feather light kiss to the underside of his jaw and whisper a sweet little "love you."
he lays there for a good long while without response, you don't mind because you chose that exact moment to fall asleep. he lays there and he's sure he won't be able to fall asleep now. fuck you for knocking out and leaving him like this, he thinks. he's trying not to give himself false hope, maybe you meant it platonically. he keeps trying and he keeps thinking all night but he's still impossibly giddy.
he was contemplating not telling you anything about last night, but he can't help himself. he's nervous—god, he's so fucking nervous when you wake up while he's getting comfy in your kitchen like it was his, making breakfast. you look groggy and sleepy and hungover, but to him, you still look adorable.
when you're awake enough, munching away at the breakfast he's made, he tells you about last night and his heart slams against his chest when he mentions what you had told him.
though, when he sees how you choke on a piece of your toast, and how flustered you look, like a deer in headlights, his heart beats hard against his ribcage for a completely different reason.
the next time you go out for drinks, it's to celebrate the start of your relationship.
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AAA first request done ! hope you liked this anon <3 if you guys have any request pleassseee lemme know !
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hcrringtonsbat · 2 years
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𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐓 (𝐄.𝐌.)
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summary: over the course of your friendship, eddie never noticed that you didn’t swear. he took it upon himself to find a way to change that. it was pure chance that you were also screaming his name in the process. [4.7k+ words]
warnings: smut (18+ minors dni), fingering, oral (female receiving), humping, dirty talk
pairing: eddie munson x female!best friend!reader
a/n: oh. my. goodness.this is the first full-blown fic that i’ve written in a while and my first ever published smut. this is probably my favorite thing i’ve ever written & the longest. as always, i hope you enjoy and I encourage you to interact with this. i’d really appreciate it. *also, i know hellraiser comes out in 1987… just pretend it didn’t for my sake <3
part 2
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“Ouch! Motherlover!” You exclaimed out of the blue, breaking the silence in the room. You shook your left hand vigorously, hoping to alleviate the pain that struck your pointer finger.
After examining the injury, you gazed up at Eddie sitting on his throne. He had a look on his face that you couldn’t quite decipher. He looked slightly concerned, hearing you cry out in pain had startled him but on the other hand, it seemed as if he could burst out laughing at any second.
“Papercut.” You explained, holding up your finger so that he could see.
A smirk appeared on his face, “I figured. Looks gnarly.” Eddie’s tone was laced with sarcasm.
The two of you were currently in the drama room at Hawkins High School. Hellfire had just been slaughtered by the Cult of Vecna and was in need of a new campaign. Everyone in the club was itching to prove to not only themselves but Eddie that they were capable of outsmarting him and beating his new labyrinth of a campaign.
You weren’t Dungeon Master but, you were his best friend and a big help when it came to brainstorming. Eddie often found that whenever the two of you were riffing off of the top of each other's heads, he came up with the best ideas. So, it wasn’t unusual that you’d stay late after school to help him.
“What?” His sarcastic response didn’t go unnoticed by you.
“Nothing.” He shrugged, still smirking. Eddie peaked at you from behind his hair to see that you weren’t buying it.
You poked his arm in the same spot where his bat tattoo was permanently etched into his skin, “C’mon. What?”
If Eddie knew you half as well as he thought he did, he should’ve guessed that you would probe, “It’s just-” He paused and chuckled to himself, “Motherlover? Really Y/N.”
“What? I always say that!”
“Yeah, exactly. You always say “motherlover” He air quoted, “I mean, what’s wrong with just saying motherfucker and moving on?”
“Nothing’s wrong with swearing. It’s just not my thing.” You shrugged as you continued to scribble away in your notebook.
Even when the two of you were harebrained freshmen, ripe for the picking, Eddie can’t recall hearing you curse. He just assumed that it was because your innocence was still lively & intact.
But as time went on and your age increased, you would stay out past your curfew, unbeknownst to your parents. Or you would indulge in smoking with Eddie at his trailer. So, it wasn’t like you were some goodie-two-shoes who got on her knees every Sunday to pray and repent for her sins.
Eddie reached across the table and closed the book you were writing in. Then, he proceeded to gently snatch it away from you and slide it across the empty table. The two of you watched as it slid off the edge and smacked the floor.
“I was using that.” It would be a lie if you said you were surprised that he’d do something like that but, that’s just who Eddie is. A man that goes to great lengths to get your undivided attention.
“I call bullshit,” Eddie began, adjusting his position in his throne so that one of his legs was thrown haphazardly across the wooden arm, “Out of all of the crazy, ridiculous, rash stunts that we’ve pulled over the course of our friendship… you draw the line at swearing?”
“I mean, Henderson curses more than you and he’s like… twelve.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s fourteen,” You corrected.
“Don’t try and change the subject, princess.” Eddie deadpanned, not breaking eye contact.
Your mind flashed away from your current conversation to a dream that you had maybe three nights ago.
Eddie’s face was burrowed between your thighs, licking up your cunt before stopping at your clit and swirling his tongue, the way that drove you crazy.
Despite everything, despite your legs wrapped around his shoulders, despite his hair covering the top half of his face, he never broke eye contact with you. Not even for a second.
“You like that, princess?” He asked you before continuing to lap at your pussy.
You were instantly transported back to where you sat. In a room with Eddie. Not in his trailer sprawled out on his bed, “What have I told you about calling me Princess?” You pointed an accusatory finger at him.
He swatted it away as quickly as you lifted it, “How ‘bout this. I’ll stop when you tell me to shut the fuck up.”
You protested, “No, I’m not doing that!”
“How about shut the hell up. That’s better, right?” Eddie continued, refusing to let up.
Despite his best efforts, you still stood your ground, “Gosh, no, Eddie!”
“Alright,” He paused. You could tell by how his eyebrows were furrowed and how he mindlessly twirled his rings that he was thinking and hadn’t given up yet.
“Telling me to stick it where the sun shines?” He proposed, “It’s a step in the right direction, huh?” Eddie smiled.
At this, you didn’t even try and protest. You just shook your head and rose from your chair, walking to the end of the table and retrieving the notebook that Eddie had so kindly flung across the room.
Returning to your seat, you opened the page you’d been working on and finished your thoughts.
A few seconds passed before Eddie realized that you were intentionally ignoring him. He scoffed, “Jesus H Christ. You’re hopeless, princess.”
You swallowed, trying so hard not to go back to the deep crevices of your mind that thought of Eddie that way. He’s your best friend. Get yourself together. You told yourself.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll get there one day.”
He used this nickname so often that it could’ve doubled as your name. But today, you couldn’t stand to have him call you anything other than Y/N. You had to change the subject or else you’d be clenching your thighs the entire drive home.
“Hey!” You whacked his hand closest to you.
“Did you ever stop to think that maybe we could’ve had the new beast for this month's campaign if you weren’t such an asshole?” Another whack, this time on his kneecap.
“One day.” He reiterated before scribbling something on a scratch sheet of paper, completely ignorant to the pool of desire he caused to form in your underwear just by simply calling you a name.
˚ · •. ° .
The entire room erupted in whoops and hollers as Frank Cotton’s dismembered body panned into the frame. Jeff stood on the edge of his loveseat while Gareth clapped at the television screen. Eddie on the other hand remained silent, focusing on the movie.
Occasionally, members of Hellfire gathered at Jeff’s house to watch a horror movie. Today, it was decided that you’d be watching Hellraiser.
This was a very different pick from your run-of-the-mill Nightmare on Elm Street or Friday the 13th. Hellraiser breached a new level of gore and Eddie was forced to step in as dungeon master and forbid the younger members of Hellfire to participate in this particular flick.
“I don’t want to be responsible for replacing your bedsheets.” He’d said when talking to Dustin, which resulted in Eddie being told off with some expletives.
Although he didn’t tell you, Eddie considered asking if you wanted to sit this one out. He remembers how nervous you looked when people started getting slaughtered left and right by Jason Voorhees. From how Gareth described it, Hellraiser made all the other movies you’d watched seem like a walk in the park.
Now, you sat next to him, squirming slightly in your seat on Jeff’s couch. Eddie turned his head to glance at you, expecting to see you looking away from the carnage on screen but, he was mistaken.
You didn’t peel away from the bloodshed. Not even for a second. He should’ve known that you’d do this. Be stubborn and stare the violence down, even if all you wanted to do was shield your eyes.
Eddie thought of a way to add fuel to the fire.
He wrapped his arm around your shoulder. As expected, you didn’t even bat an eyelash. This was something that Eddie did so often during these movies that it became second nature.
He gave you a few seconds to adjust to his arm before he inched in closer to your ear and whispered, “Are you creeped out?” Despite his devious intentions, it was a genuine question.
If Eddie got even a sense that this was starting to get too much for you, he would’ve whisked you out of there.
“Uh-uh.” You shook your head, still keeping your eyes glued to the screen.
Eddie pressed on, “Are you sure? I can tell them to turn it off… princess.” He added at the last second.
You could practically hear the smirk in his voice.
Suddenly, you became hyperaware of everything. The way Eddie’s arm was draped across your shoulder, the weight of his chest as it pressed against you, his thigh glued to yours, his breath fanning across your neck as he spoke… everything.
If this movie wasn’t going to be the death of you, he sure was.
Despite everything your body was urging you to do, you didn’t give in. You just kept a neutral look on your face and paid him no attention.
“Oh, don’t be that way,” He urged, “You’re not gonna tell me to fuck off, princess?” There was an edge to his voice.
It was no surprise that you felt wetness begin to pool in your underwear for the second time this week. Lord. If only he was aware of the things he did to me, maybe he wouldn’t do them at all.
“C’mon, Y/N. Just say one bad word, for me?” He begged. When he said this, the typical playfulness in his voice was gone, nowhere to be found.
You tore your eyes from the television, but when you looked at Eddie’s face only to see that signature Cheshire cat grin upon his face, you knew you fell for it.
All Eddie wanted was for you to give in. It wasn’t the thing he’d longed for you to do the most but, it was still something. A step in the right direction, he’d said earlier this week.
He was itching to say it again now. Instead, he opted for, “Progress, Princess. I’ll crack you soon enough.”
Just like that, Eddie turned his attention back to the movie. He left his arm draped around you but other than that, there was no indication that he’d ever interacted with you.
You gaped at him for a moment. How could he just-? Why would he-? Is he just gonna do something like that, right here, right now, and pretend like he doesn’t know the effect he has on me? You thought.
“Y/N!” A voice ripped you from your thoughts.
Gareth looked on edge, “Are you even watching? This movie cost like $15 to rent at Family Video. The least you could do is pretend you’re interested.” He scolded.
You wanted to scream. You wanted to stand on Jeff’s coffee table and yell what Eddie just did, how he riled you up only to leave you high and dry.
But what good would that do? Admitting that your best friend made you wet just by whispering in your ear?
It would just result in teasing from Jeff and Gareth– maybe even Eddie himself. You could hear him now, “Sweetheart, if I make you that hot and bothered all you have to do is use your words like a big girl, ‘kay?”
You bit your tongue, opting for the rational option. To keep watching the movie and pretending as if nothing had happened.
˚ · • . ° .
Three days later, you found yourself experiencing merciless teasing at the hands of Eddie Munson again. Well– not exactly. At least not yet but, you could feel it coming.
Even with your inhibitions low, even with a blunt laced through your fingers… you just knew.
You were currently sitting in Eddie’s bed, sharing a blunt and talking about nothing in particular while he tuned his guitar. Right now, your eyes were closed, listening to him pluck away.
You felt his bed even out and you opened your eyes and propped yourself up on your elbows, trying to see where the man was going.
He grabbed a pick that was on his desk. Your head fell back against his pillow when you realized he wasn’t going far.
As the bed dipped down, you heard a bang against the wall followed by, “Shit!” Eddie cursed.
This time, you sat all the way up, seeing Eddie grab his elbow, “I hit my funny bone.” He explained, taking another second to breathe before extending his arm in your direction, signaling for you to pass the joint.
“I think that’s enough guitar for me today.” He joked, before taking a long, deep, inhale to let the smoke enter his lungs before exhaling it all out.
“You should take a page outta my book and try not to curse.” You said, resting your head against the wall for support.
Eddie looked at you, taking another drag, “And why would I do that when it’s just so…” He searched for the right word, “Fun? Liberating?” He couldn’t decide.
“How about neither?” You challenged.
You had no idea why you started to antagonize your best friend. Maybe you just wanted to get the teasing out of the way since it’s been a little while since the last time he tried to get you to swear.
Or, maybe you were hoping it lead to somewhere else.
“You think you’re better than me, huh?” Eddie smirked, “You’ve got some superiority kink or something.”
You decided to throw him a bone, “I do have the urge to curse sometimes.”
“Oh yeah? And when is that?” He asked, interest piqued.
“When I get hurt. Like the other day in the drama room. I don’t think you realize how close I was to actually saying it.”
You extended your arm and pried the blunt from Eddie’s lips, “And stop hogging this.”
“So, you don’t wanna swear like a sailor any other time?” He inquired, not even phased that you stole his joint away from him.
Eddie decided that you could keep that one since it was almost gone anyway. He reached for his tin “lunchbox” and grabbed another pre-rolled blunt. He’d probably pinch himself later, knowing that it was supposed to be for a customer but, right now, he didn’t care.
“Not even when you’re touching yourself?” Eddie asked so nonchalantly as he fumbled with his lighter. He said it as casually as you’d ask about the weather or if someone was enjoying their meal.
If you knew he would have dropped a bombshell like that, you never would have brought it up in the first place.
“W-what?” You managed to sputter out, “Why would you even ask me something like that?”
He sighed, “Don’t tell me I struck a nerve, princess?” There he goes. With that nickname again.
Oh, you struck a nerve, alright.
“We never talk about stuff like this is all.” Your brain didn’t even know what to make out of this interaction.
“There’s no time like the present, sweetheart,” Eddie replied, staring you down, “So, what’s the answer?”
You thought about the different ways to reply. You could continue to hold out, refusing to entertain Eddie’s ideas. Or you could give in and end this cycle of desire and damp panties.
Eddie obviously got tired of waiting for you to respond and decided to throw another question into the mix, “What about when someone else touches you?”
And just when you thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse, they did.
“No.” You answered definitively.
I don’t want someone else. I want you. You thought but didn’t dare say.
“Hmm.” Eddie nodded his head at this newfound information and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you’d been holding in.
Thank God the 3rd degree was finally ove-
“So when Harrington went to town,” He started, “You weren’t itching to say anything?”
You had a brief (and I mean brief) romantic history with Steve Harrington.
During your junior year, the two of you went on one date together to the drive-in movie theater just outside of Hawkins. It was a nice experience but, you found yourself longing to be watching a different movie with Hellfire– well, Eddie.
You mentioned hanging out with Steve to Eddie once. You were shocked that he remembered it but what shocked you even more was that he assumed Steve “went to town.”
“Considering we never even got that far, no.” You admitted, thankful to put that rumor to rest, whether he’d conjured it up in his head or heard it roaming the halls.
But of course, knowing Eddie, he just had to be thorough. He asked again, just to clarify, “So Harrington never…?”
“Nope.”
Eddie took a beat, mentally taking notes. Good.
Another question popped into his mind and with him already on his second blunt of the night, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Has anyone ever?”
“No.”
He hummed, then took another slow drag of his blunt, making you wait in anticipation for what he was going to say next, “If it makes you feel any better, no guy at school knows anything worth a damn.”
You couldn’t hold back the scoff that passed your lips. “Right. And you do?” If Eddie could tease you, you could tease him right back.
Eddie had taken home his fair share of people after shows at The Hideout, mostly people just itching to say they’ve slept with someone in a band. He was surprised that hearing you doubt his abilities in bed stung him so much.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” He stopped, then added under his breath, “I bet I could have you screaming.”
You heard him, heard what he said… what he was alluding to. Your breath caught in your throat and you forced yourself to swallow it down. Get ahold of yourself. He’s only teasing.
Eddie didn’t intend for you to hear what he said but, would it be such a bad thing that you did?
He can’t recall the last time he looked at you as strictly his best friend. The two of you crossed borders that a typical duo wouldn’t: sleeping in each other’s beds, holding hands when a movie got a bit too scary, Eddie kissing your forehead before he left your house.
And that was just the surface level. God only knows how much the two of you had practically seeped into each other’s skin after your years of friendship.
With everything going on right now, Eddie’s inhibitions lowered, the feeling of his cock tightening in his jeans at the prospect of you two finally crossing that godforsaken line… he couldn’t stop himself.
“C’mon, princess. Don’t try and act all high and mighty now like you haven’t thought of me that way.” He started, fully expecting you to smack him on the side of the head but, you didn’t.
Eddie kept going, “Like you haven’t thought about me with my head between those pretty thighs.”
“I haven’t.” You gulped, your hand traveled up your arm and stopped at your elbow.
After knowing each other for years, it was obvious that you’d pick up on one another’s habits. Certain words that you’d coin, your favorite items of clothing… when you were lying.
The number of times you’d call your parents from Eddie’s house, claiming that the two of you were studying when in actuality you weren’t. He noticed the way you scratched your elbow while lying through your teeth.
Just like you were right now.
“Mosquito bite?” He asked, pointing out your nervous tick, “Or did you hit your funny bone too?” He smirked.
“E-Eddie,” You stuttered, “Trying to seduce me isn’t gonna get me to say a bad word.” You chuckled nervously.
“Really?” He said, unconvinced, “When have you, Y/N Y/L/N, ever backed down from a challenge?”
Suddenly, you realized how close in proximity the two of you were. For the second time in the past week, you could feel his body heat radiating from his chest.
“Y/N…” He continued in a sing-song tone, “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were staring at my hands while I played my guitar.”
“Were you thinking about these fingers fucking your pussy?” Eddie held up his ring-clad fingers and whispered in your ear.
“God, Eddie,” You exhaled, “Are you really taking this that far?”
This was your final attempt. It was the last time you were going to resist what your body was screaming at you to do… Let Eddie take you right here, right now, on his bed.
“Tell me to stop, Princess. Tell me to let it go and I will. Promise.” He extended his pinky finger.
You didn’t take it.
“So, is that a yes?” Eddie asked, scanning your body for any indication that you didn’t want this. That was the last thing he wanted to do, make you uncomfortable.
But with the way your chest heaved up and your thighs were pressed together, he knew.
“Mhm.” You nodded.
Eddie tutted, “Uh-uh, Sweetheart. Use your words.”
This was it. You knew once you uttered these words, your friendship with Eddie would be changed forever. It would breach uncharted territory. The thought of that should have terrified you but, it didn’t. You longed for this.
And right now, wanting his calloused fingers inside of you trumped any hesitation that could’ve formed.
“Yes.”
Smirking, Eddie moved from his seated position and climbed to the edge of the bed. He pulled your ankles with enough force so that you were lying down.
Crawling back up, Eddie hovered over you, his hair falling in your face while his hands started to unbutton your jeans, “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do this, Y/N/N.”
Eddie took his sweet time. He slowly tugged down your zipper and began to peel your pants off of your body. Your hips bucked up so that he could get them past your ass and down to your ankles. He gave them a final pull before they fell onto the floor.
He returned to his position above you. Eddie maintained intense eye contact with you before cupping your clothed pussy.
“You’re so warm, Sweetheart. I bet you’re wet too, hmm?” He used his pointer finger to push your panties to the side, lightly grazing your clit in the process.
He was right. Arousal practically dripped from your pussy and right onto his bedsheets, “Fuck,” He sighed, “Is this all for me?”
“Y-yeah. All for you, Eds.” Your voice was breathy as you tried not to moan in anticipation.
He hummed approvingly before taking his hand away, letting your underwear fall right back into place.
Suddenly, his attention fell onto your neck. Eddie left a trail of kisses starting at your collar bone and kissed up to your earlobe, “Take them off for me, Princess.” He demanded.
You didn’t waste any time, using both hands to slide out of your panties. Before you could toss them aside, Eddie grabbed them from you and shoved them into his pocket, “Don’t worry, Sweetheart. I’ll give them back later.”
You felt his fingers brush the inside of your thigh, inches away from where you wanted him the most. You waited a few more seconds, trying to gauge his next move.
When his fingers kept dancing in between your thighs, you whined, “Eddie, if you’re not going to do anything-” Oh.
You felt as 3 of Eddie’s fingers slipped into your pussy. You could feel the ice-cold rings that littered his fingers brush against your inner thigh as he continued working, curling his fingers.
Eddie began to pump his fingers in and out of you, feeling your chest rise and fall. Lewd sounds and whimpers slipped past your lips when he brought his thumb to your clit and began to flick the bundle of nerves.
His cock strained against his jeans hearing you whine from underneath him, “Cat got your tongue, Princess? Don’t worry, I’ll have you screaming pretty soon.” He smirked.
Eddie increased his pace, which had your moans getting louder and louder each time his thumb circled your bud. Your eyes were snapped shut and your knuckles were white because of how hard you were gripping his bedsheets.
You felt heat begin to rise in the pit of your stomach, “I’m so close, Eds. Keep going.” You begged him.
His fingers didn’t let up as he began to slowly inch down the length of your body. Eddie used his free hand to spread your legs wider before positioning himself between them.
“You’re close, angel? Do you want to cum?” He asked.
“Mhm.” You moaned, arching your back.
“Say it.” You could feel Eddie’s breath fan across your clit.
Even in the heat of the moment, with Eddie’s fingers so furiously pounding your cunt to death, he still didn’t give up.
“Eddie. Please, just, please.” You groaned.
His fingers began to slow down. The coil that was building in your stomach began to fade away as he started to remove his fingers from your pussy.
“What are you doing?” You whimpered at the loss of contact and peered down at where Eddie was perched.
“Say it and I’ll keep going.”
Jesus. Is he really going to pull something like this? Right now out of all moments?!
Eddie could see the cogs churning in your head. He decided to make things even harder for you by placing a ginger kiss right on your clit, causing you to moan.
He’s officially won.
“Fuck! Just…” You stuttered, “Just fucking let me finish, please!” You pleaded, finally giving in after almost 2 weeks of being stubborn.
“Good girl.” He praised before hiking both of your legs up in the air and throwing them behind his shoulders.
He wasted no time, getting immediately back to work by showing your clit the most love and attention. Eddie licked a stripe up your cunt causing you to gasp.
You could feel waves of heat build-up again, followed by the coil threatening to snap as he continued to lap at your pussy.
Eddie glanced up and saw the way you were clutching his sheets for dear life. He peeled your left hand away and guided it to the back of his head. You then added your right hand into his locks without assistance, “Shit! Eddie, I’m almost there.”
You felt your orgasm approach as you began to clench around nothing and grind onto his face. The hands that were intertwined in his hair tugged on it, causing his face to angle slightly upward towards you.
As flashes of light began to cloud your vision, signaling to yourself that you finally reached your high and came all over Eddie’s sheets, you felt the bed begin to shake.
Shit, was my orgasm that powerful? You thought, highly confused.
You felt Eddie’s movements come to a stop. His head was still laid between your thighs, your fingers were still laced through his mane, pulling on it.
Holy. Shit.
You were frozen in your spot when you realized what was really happening. It wasn’t your orgasm that was so intense that caused the bed to shake, it was Eddie. Humping it. It really shouldn’t have gotten you as riled up as it did.
“Fuck, Princess. You’ve got me going feral.” He grunted, continuing to pound his mattress into oblivion.
You didn’t remove your hands from his hair as he continued to fuck his mattress. You watched, dumbfounded, and highly turned on because of this.
For almost two weeks, Eddie had been teasing you nonstop. Constantly doing things to intentionally get you turned on. You decided that it was your turn to add fuel to the fire, “Good boy.”
“Jesus. Fuck. God, I wish this mattress was you right now.” His head fell on your thigh and kissed it.
“Shit!” He swore once more, before letting out a grunt, letting you know that he had finished.
The aggressive movements came to an abrupt stop and he stood up and climbed fully into bed. He brushed away the hair that was matted to your forehead with sweat.
“That was….” Eddie sighed, flopping his head next to yours.
“Fun? Liberating?” You quoted him from earlier that night.
He scoffed, “It was, wasn’t it?”
“Fuck yeah.” You said, loud and proudly.
A grin slowly appeared on Eddie’s face. You swore, without even being provoked, “That’s my girl.” He kissed the top of your forehead.
16K notes · View notes
azriels-shadowsinger · 3 months
Text
Game Night (Azriel x Reader)
summary: You and Azriel have been kinda flirty for a while, but it has never actually gone anywhere. When game night turns into strip poker… well i’m sure you can guess where this is gonna go.
wc: 1.5k
a/n: i haven’t written anything in a long while bc ive been kinda very depressed so this may suck. also thank yall so much for 200 followers!!
!!warning: suggestiveness at the end.
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The males should have known it was a bad idea when you four females insisted on the game. Mor had oh so innocently suggested a game night, after which Nesta randomly got the idea to play poker out of nowhere, followed by immediate approval from you and Feyre. Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel had wrongfully assumed that you all had suddenly gained interest in the game and wanted to learn for fun, so they agreed.
The night started out wholesome. You were ‘learning’ the basic rules of the game while losing a decent amount of money. As expected, Rhys was trying to help Feyre as she kept losing money to his brothers. After several rounds of defeat and many more rounds of drinks, the males started to notice that you four were losing less and less. Actually… you were all holding the majority of the chips by this point. Azriel, in his usual perceptive manner, accused you four of cheating and hustling them. You and Mor couldn’t help but break out laughing.
“I’m sorry! It was just too easy!” You said between giggles.
“Especially when Rhys started telling Feyre his cards in her mind so she wouldn’t lose, which she immediately told to us!” Mor laughed loudly. Feyre gave a sheepish grin and Nesta only smirked while pulling her most recent winning to her pile. Rhys, Cass, and Az couldn’t help but to laugh, commending you for being able to trick them. Cassian, however, insists that they were going easy on you the whole time.
“Well, it’s on now. No more holding back, right boys?” Cassian says with a smug grin while dealing new cards to the table.
“It shouldn’t be too hard to win, now that I figured out each of their tells.” Azriel stated matter of factly while peaking at his cards. His shadows swirl around him, blocking anyone from being able to see the hand he was dealt.
“Oh really? You think you can tell when we’re bluffing? I think you’re overestimating those spy abilities, Az. You haven’t called any of my bluffs correctly so far.” He shrugs. “I think we may need to make this game more interesting since you three claim you’re going to actually try now. I’m thinking we raise the bets to-“
“Let’s play strip poker!” Cassian bellows, obviously drunk, and cutting you off before you can say anything else. Rhys exchanges a look with Feyre. “I think that Feyre darling and I are going to retire for the night before we lose more of our money or our clothes. Goodnight everyone!” He laughs. They throw their cards on the table and winnow away, leaving just you, Nesta, Mor, Azriel, and Cassian at the table.
Cassian stares expectantly at Nesta. “Cmon, Nes! Say you’ll play!” She sighs dramatically and agrees. “Fine. Only if Y/N, Mor, and Azriel all agree to play too.” Your face turns red. While you don’t doubt your poker abilities, the thought of stripping in front of Azriel… or worse, seeing him half naked, makes your heart race. You and Azriel have only ever gone as far as flirting with each other, but these Illyrians are always flirtatious, so you don’t think it means anything. Regardless, your mind wanders to the mental image of a shirtless Azriel, sparring in the training ring this morning. It’s always so hard not to stare. His abs, his arms, his wings…
“Y/N? Are you playing or not?” Mor questions, pulling you from your daydream. You realize everyone has agreed but you now.
“Sure, whatever.” You say quieter than before, still slightly blushing. You look at your cards nervously, praying to the Cauldron for a good hand. Luckily, you get it. The round goes on, and eventually Cassian is the first to lose an item of clothing, opting to lose his shirt and making a big display of removing it.
An hour later, you have all had several more drinks, everyone has discarded a couple items of clothing (except for Cassian who was down to only his boxers and his left sock), Mor got tired and left, and you were focusing way too closely on one of your poker chips in an attempt to not stare at Azriel.
Cassian flips the last card and… it’s not what you need. You bite your lip nervously, pushing several chips to the middle of the table while trying to maintain a confident façade. “I raise.”
Cassian and Nesta both fold, leaving just you and Azriel. You feel his eyes on you, probably trying to tell if you’re bluffing. Your skin heats under his gaze. Trying to appear more confident, you meet his stare, only to notice he’s not staring at your face, but rather a bit lower. You blush and Cassian clears his throat. “Uh, your move, Az.” Azriel immediately looks away, staring back at his cards.
“Um, I fold.” He mutters and tosses his cards on the discard pile, and you can’t help but notice the way his other hand is clenching and flexing under the table.
“Y/N wins! Az, looks like you’re down to your boxers now!” Cassian slurs slightly. Your eyes go wide and you give a panicked look to Nesta.
“Cass, I think it’s time for us to head home. I’m tired.” She gives him a look that he obviously must recognize because he is very quick to leave, obviously excited to get home. They say goodbye and head out, leaving just you and Azriel.
You stand to gather your things, but Azriel stops you. “Are we done playing, sweetheart?” You feel his eyes trail down your half-exposed body.
“You can keep your pants on, Shadowsinger. It’s late and I’m drunk. Plus, if we play another round then one of us will end up a bit more naked than friends should be around each other.” You laugh awkwardly. Azriel’s eyes darken slightly and he leans in to whisper in your ear. “Scared you’ll lose?” You shudder at the closeness and the feeling of his breath on you.
“No. I just don’t think you want me to find out that the wingspan theory isn’t true.” You quip back with a raised eyebrow. He lets out a short laugh and sits back down. “Deal the cards.” He says smugly.
You deal the cards, trying to ignore the tension thick in the air. What the hell is he doing? How are you supposed to act friendly and hide your feelings if you see him naked? How is he going to react if he sees you without a bra? You deal the last card and look at your hand. Not terrible, but definitely not great. You bite your lip nervously. The round plays out and it’s time to place the final bets. You make your bet and then look to Azriel, biting your bottom lip nervously. He studies his cards, then sets them down to look at you.
“You wanna know something, Y/N?” He picks up a poker chip and spins it between his fingers. Gods, those fingers. “You bite your lip when you’re nervous. Did you know that?” You freeze. “And while it has been rather advantageous to know when you’re bluffing this whole game, I do find it kind of cute.” He slides all of his chips into the middle pile. “I knew you were bluffing the last round. And I know you are now too.” His voice is low and full of confidence. Your face is completely red now as he flips his cards over. Royal flush.
You turn your cards over in defeat and he grins. “I win.” He says smugly. He stands and saunters towards you, caging you between his arms in your chair. You look up at him, and you can see the silent question in his eyes. Is this okay? You nod softly and he smirks.
“As the winner, I think it’s only fair that I get to claim my prize. May I?” He gently slides your bra strap down your shoulder. This is actually happening. Weeks of flirty words and lustful glances, leading to whatever is about to happen.
“Rules are rules.” You maintain eye contact and reach behind to unclasp your bra. He grabs your wrist, guiding it back down and reaching behind you himself. His fingers softly trail up your spine, leaving goosebumps behind, before he reaches the clasp and unhooks it. Your bra falls to the floor and Azriel’s eyes roam over you hungrily.
“Gods, you are even more beautiful than I imagined.” He gently guides you to stand, walking you back to the wall and pressing you against it. “I have wanted to do this for so long.” He whispers against your skin before moving his lips to yours. He kisses you with no restraint. One hand cups your face while the other moves up your side. You melt into his touch, savoring his taste. A small moan leaves your mouth, causing him to growl softly.
Azriel pulls away for a moment to say something, but before he can, you hear footsteps in the hall. Quickly, you rush to grab your clothes before anyone can see you. Moments later, whoever it was walks past the room towards the kitchen. You let out a breath, continuing to get dressed.
You give a look to Azriel, who had already managed to get fully dressed somehow. He can read the question in your eyes. Now what? Azriel reaches out a scarred hand toward you. “We can keep playing the game in my room.” He smirks. You take his hand and you two quickly head out, leaving the cards and poker chips on the table.
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idk what this was. honestly it was a WIP from months ago and i’m not sure if I love how it ended up but whatever i just am trying to write again :)
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suzukiblu · 4 months
Text
Hey kids, I've got some more "Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!" behind this here read-more. You know, if that's a thing you're into. 👀
“I don’t know what names are good,” Superboy says finally, his voice stiff. “Or sound good. I never even heard music before Kid Flash was–I just don’t know what sounds are good. Or whatever.” 
“It doesn’t matter if it’s ‘good’,” Billy says, wondering why Superboy cares so much about his name “sounding” good and also why Cadmus is apparently the worst. They never even played music for him? What, at all? He makes an immediate mental note to figure out how to set up the wireless speakers Batman had delivered and, like, Spotify or something. “You just have to like it.” 
“Oh,” Superboy says, just barely frowning again. “Are you . . . sure?” 
“Yeah,” Billy says firmly. “I’m definitely sure.” 
“Oh,” Superboy says again, then looks down at his feet. Billy feels bad for him and is going to set up like, a million different playlists the first chance he gets. Just like a lot of different stuff, so Superboy can figure out what he likes.
“Do you still want suggestions?” he asks. “I promise I won’t pick anything that sounds bad.” 
“. . . fine,” Superboy says, still looking at his feet. It’s not a resounding “yes” or anything, but it’s no a “no”, Billy’s pretty sure, and he does want to help Superboy pick a good name, so . . . it’s probably okay to try again, he thinks. 
“Okay,” he says, trying to think of something really good and not just random stuff this time. Like–names are important, and Superboy obviously cares about what other people are gonna think of what he picks, so . . . 
Superboy keeps not looking at him. Billy tries not to worry about it. Maybe Superboy just doesn’t like looking at people at all. He didn’t make eye contact with Kid Flash’s parents while they were here either, and barely even with Kid Flash. Which makes sense, he guesses, because why would someone used to telepathic communication really feel a need to look at anyone’s face? Superboy probably doesn’t have the . . . instinct, or whatever. 
Well, it’s fine if he doesn’t, Billy figures. Either he’ll learn it or he’ll just not like it either way, and neither of those options are a big deal or anything. The name thing and coming up with rules and stuff and helping Superboy feel comfortable are way more important right now. 
"Um . . . actually, my mom's name was Marilyn," Billy suggests a little shyly as an old idea occurs to him. It’s been a while since he really thought about it, honestly, but . . . "So you could be 'Lynn', maybe? If that's not too weird? I used to think that if I ever had a kid I'd name them after my mom, 'cuz my dad's name was Clarence and that's pretty old-fashioned, though I guess if you were a girl you could've just been 'Claire', so . . . well, maybe Clarence could be your middle name, actually? If you like it, I mean." 
Superboy . . . pauses. Frowns at the floor. 
"Why would you name me that?" he asks skeptically. "You might have an actual kid someday and want to use it for them." 
"I have an actual kid right now," Billy says reasonably. "Why wouldn't I use it for you?" 
Superboy sits very, very still, and doesn't say anything. Billy starts worrying that maybe that was weird or too much and maybe he's already the worst dad ever and maybe now Superboy thinks he's weird and too much and the worst dad ever and is just gonna get up and go straight back to Kid Flash's house and never even talk to him again or–
"I count as an actual kid to you?" Superboy asks, his voice completely neutral. 
Oh, Billy realizes. 
Man, he's dumb sometimes. 
"Yeah," he says firmly. "You definitely count." 
". . . okay," Superboy says, looking at the wall. "'Lynn' works." 
"Awesome," Billy says, smiling at him as wide as he thinks he can get away with. He doesn't want to look fake or like he's trying too hard or to be overwhelming or anything like that. He just wants to make it obvious that he's happy right now. "Nice to meet you, Lynn Clarence Batson." 
"Nice to meet you too," Superboy says–Lynn says–glancing sidelong at him just a little bit hesitantly. "Um . . . Dad." 
Billy grins. 
Okay. Not the worst dad ever after all, then.
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anthurak · 6 months
Text
So I thought I’d throw together a bit of a timeline theory I’ve been thinking about since the last episode surrounding Fizzerolli, how he started working for Mammon, when and how he may have gotten together with Ozzie, who exactly kept him and Blitzo apart after the accident, and also an idea for some rather appropriate karmic irony.
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See, we hear in Mammon’s Midseason Special that Fizz has won Mammon’s Clown Pageant the last ten years in a row. But nothing about that indicates that ten years ago was the first time Fizz won.
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Instead, I think the actual first time Fizz won Mammon’s Clown Pageant was fifteen years ago. As in, shortly before the accident. For one this really adds some additional weight to the flashbacks we get in Oops. The big celebration we see wasn’t just for Fizz’s birthday, it was celebrating Fizz getting his big break. Winning this competition and getting the chance to work with Mammon, the Sin of Greed himself.
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As well as adding even greater weight to Blitzo trying to give Fizz a love letter. Blitzo likely thought this would be the last chance he would get.
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Additionally, this would also neatly explain Mammon’s involvement in Fizz’s recovery after the accident. It’s clear that Mammon bankrolled Fizzerolli’s recovery and cyberization, so that begs the question of what would prompt Mammon to invest so much time and effort into helping seemingly some random imp circus kid? Well, what if said kid not only just won his Clown Pageant, but did SO good that Mammon decided pretty much immediately that he wanted THIS kid as his new brand mascot? And then just a few weeks or even days later, that kid was horrifically maimed in a terrible accident at his home? Yeah, I think that gives Mammon ALL the reason to stick his neck out for Fizz. And if you’re going to ask ‘Why didn’t Mammon just drop Fizz after he was basically crippled?’ Because Mammon is the embodiment of GREED. He WANTED Fizzerolli and he was going to HAVE him.
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Plus, I think we can assume that this is where Asmodeus entered the picture, with Mammon calling him in to do Fizzerolli’s cybernetics. In turn, I think it’s easy to guess that Ozzie being so closely involved in Fizz’s recovery is when the two started falling in love.
In short, Fizzerolli spends the next few years recovering before making his big debut as Mammon’s new hot brand mascot, winning his next Clown Pageant, and goes on to win every pageant for the next ten years up to present.
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Now the other angle here is the big ‘Who conspired to keep Blitzo and Fizz apart after the accident?’ And I’m going to be honest; it is DEFINITELY Cash Buckzo. Like I know some people have theorized that it was Mammon, but frankly that theory just doesn’t make sense anymore. Mammon simply doesn’t have much motive or means to have done this, and if nothing else, he straight up doesn’t recognize Blitzo in the newest episode.
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Cash on the other has both motive AND means in abundance. He was certainly one of the people most closely looking after Fizzerolli after the fire and he had every reason to want to cut Blitzo out of Fizzerolli’s life. Likely a combination of petty spite against his son for causing the accident which burned down their circus, likely injured dozens and even killed his wife, and also wanting to isolate and ‘protect’ Fizzerolli, his big cash cow. Especially now that he’d gotten the attention of Mammon, with Cash likely hoping to get/mooch as much as he could out of this new arrangement.
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Now that last bit in particular get’s interesting because it’s clear that if Cash was hoping to continue profiting off Fizzerolli, it clearly didn’t work. What with how we have seen neither hide nor hair of Cash around Fizz, who in turn has not brought him up once.
So what happened?
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Well, in a bit of delicious karmic irony, I think Cash was the one to cut Blitzo out of Fizz’s life, only to later get cut out of Fizz’s life himself by MAMMON.
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mari-the-bimbo · 6 months
Text
Checkmate
A/N: This is part of the ‘think I need someone older’ series because I’m very behind on it whoopsie! Also have I watched Queen Gambit? No. Did I use the show as inspo anyways? Yes! :D
MINORS DNI, 18+, blow job, semi public sex? Dirty talk,
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“You again Geto?” you ask with a sigh as you watch the older, handsome man with his jet black hair tied back, patiently wait for you at the table.
“Hey beautiful”
You try your best to hide your smile from the handsome man who always managed to win every other chess game to land at a game with you.
“You sound disappointed to see me y/n, I’m hurt” he says playfully as you sit at the table, scanning the board, preparing for a game of chess with him.
“Yet you find yourself here every time” you retort, he chuckles nonetheless as he begins. “I enjoy it” he says.
“I’ll never understand why you enjoy playing chess in a pub full of old men though” he says. You shrug your shoulders “I’m just better than all of you” you say as you move a pawn.
He laughs amusedly, it echoes across the room littered with a few nearly middle aged men, none of them gorgeous as your favourite opponent.
“so cocky” he swoons. “And what if I won today?”
“You won’t” you say confidently with a smile, he can’t help but mirror your smile. He was so lovesick for you.
“You wanna bet on that?” He says, you give a breathy laugh at his eagerness. “Ok bet”
“And what happens if I win the bet?” He asks, causing you to halt your next move on the bishop.
You raise an eyebrow at the mischievous male, debating whether letting the simp have a favour from you is a wise idea.
“What would you want to do if you won?” You ask. Fuck being wise right?
He smiles knowingly, licking his lips, but it’s too late to take back words.
“You let me have my way with you”
Your breath hitches at his statement. You glare at him. “What does that mean?”
“It means you can help me out with something I really need” he says.
“Oh really?” You say as you move another player, your head goes fuzzy for a second. Wait, was that the right player to move?
“Mhm, just a little something under the table” he says dirtily as he confidently moves another player.
You gulp at his suggestive words, you know what a man obsessed with you would want, but you never expected him to have this effect on you “what?” You say as you move your king.
He smiles before leaning in closer to you. You feel his breath on your neck, “is your mouth as good as your hands?” he rasps and you gasp, pulling away from him, glaring at the man.
However Geto’s dark eyes were no longer on you but rather your king who he just put into check.
“Checkmate”
You stare in disbelief at the board. How did he defeat you? He never wins against you, nor does he ever come close to it.
“You-“
“Aww man all the guys have left. They didn’t get to witness this beautiful victory” he mocks with a smile.
You squeeze your thighs together, hating yourself for choosing your desire for the handsome chess genius over your own ego.
He tilts his head and flashes a pretty smile at you as he unzips his jeans. “Well I guess it’s good they’re not here to witness what’s next huh?”
———————————-
You were, in fact thankful that all the other chess enthusiasts left. The pub staff too busy sitting inside, having a cigarette to know Geto’s dirty antics.
You’re not surprised when upon freeing his cock from his boxers, you found it was already rock hard and decorated with pre cum. He was horny this entire game?
“Dirty pervert” you mutter.
He laughs at you while reaching out a hand to caress your cheek, “you seen the faces you pull when you’re concentrating? How can a man resist?”
“You-“
But your sentence is cut off by Geto’s tip which he now shoved against your lips, pre cum wetting them.
“Nu uh, you can run your mouth when you win a game princess, until then, it’ll be stuffed with my cock” he says, leaving no room for protest.
He pets your hair as the pre cum around his pink thick cock gets licked up by you. He moans deliciously, singing your praises from his mouth.
“Ohhhh pretty girl, your mouth is just as good”
He enthusiastically grabs your head with his thick veiny hand to press his cock deeper into your mouth. You initially struggle to fit the girth of him in, but your choking is only music to his ears.
He laughs blissfully at the sound, “so cuteee” he moans, his hips thrusting harder every time, because the wet gummy feeling of inside your mouth was just too good against his length.
Your whimpers vibrate against his sensitive head, his praises is now mixed with curses as he ruts into your mouth as if you were a sex toy. His thick arm grabbing the wooden table for stability, because, oh god, it was so easy to lose his composure with a pretty thing like you in between his legs.
Heavy balls slap against your chin, and the drool trails down your face but you try to keep up with his eager stamina.
Finally he slows his pace when he makes you aware he’s about to cum, the creamy taste of his cum flows down your throat as well as trickling down your chin mixing with your spit.
You’re both panting as you finally take his length out of your mouth and look up at him from in between his legs.
It takes everything in you not to suck him off again as you watch him slump against the chair, black hair strands frame his face dishevelled, his muscular chest heaving as he lets out a satisfied sigh.
“Hey princess” he coos as he grabs your chin, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours, he kisses your wet lips for continuing. “Maybe you should let me win more often yeah? I promise I’ll eat you out next time”
You give him a breathy laugh against his lips, “in your dreams Suguru” you say, even though you know you’ll take him up on the offer.
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sturnsbaebackup · 5 months
Note
can you write something about how the fans have started speculating something between you and chris??
RUMORS FLY - CHRIS STURNIOLO
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summary: you and chris have been talking, and the fans are starting to notice.
warnings: none!
-
as nick and matt argue about god knows what into their microphones, chris stares down at his phone with a small smile. “chris what’s your opinion on this?” nick asks, but it appears chris hasn’t heard him.
“chris, get off of your fucking phone. we’re on the podcast! who are you even texting that’s so important right now?” matt groans. quickly after being called out chris puts his phone away. he’s very clearly flustered, and he says, “i was just um— texting nate!”
“texting nate? with that big of a smile on your face? i didn’t know nate was so funny… but whatever can you please just get off of your phone and help us settle this debate,” matt says, glaring at chris with a wondering eye. not even his brothers knew about you and chris, but they were bound to find out soon enough.
chris feels his phone buzz on his lap, and he waits until he has a chance to answer it. he doesn’t want to tell you that he’s recording because he doesn’t want to stop talking to you, so he tried to multitask, but clearly he’s not very good at it.
nick suddenly gets up and walks over to chris, snatching his phone from his hands. as he does so, he see’s your contact name and the photo of you and chris cuddling at the top of the screen. “oh my god that’s—“ he blurts out, but immediately stops himself. “—enough! i’m taking your phone until the end of the episode” nick says, immediately catching himself before he reveals you and chris’ secret.
chris’ cheeks turn bright pink, and his heart rate is through the roof. he knows he’ll be grilled with questions once they’re done recording, and he doesn’t know if he’s ready for that yet. eventually the pod is over, and immediately nick hands chris his phone with a smirk.
“have fun texting y/n!” nick shouts as chris begins walking downstairs to his room. a loud gasp can be heard from matt, and chris can feel his cheeks burning up. he scurries into his room and replies to your texts, and immediately opens tiktok to rewatch the tiktok you guys had made a couple days ago. he scrolls through the endless comments, and begins to notice a reoccurring pattern.
“are they dating?!”
“oh i ship this”
“i think they’re dating! i mean, y/n is wearing his brand…”
and so forth. he bites his cheeks to hold his smile in, but ultimately fails when he sees all of the support even when you guys haven’t gone public. as he scrolls through his phone, a gentle knock can be heard on his door.
“come in nick!” he exclaims, not even looking up from his phone. he knows it’s nick because matt has a tendency to just walk in, or bang on the door. one or the other.
“can i ask you something?” nick asks, sitting in the end of chris’ bed.
“yeah, anything,” chris says, putting his phone down and fixing his posture.
“why didn’t you tell me and matt?”
“um— well we aren’t really telling anyone. i mean we’re not dating yet, but—“ he pause, “actually i don’t really know, honestly. i guess i’m just nervous that if i start telling people things will go south,” he shrugs.
“are you planning to ask her out soon?”
“yeah, i am actually. i was gonna do it this weekend, and make it a big surprise for the fans but now i don’t know. the fans are already speculating things, so i feel like i should just scratch the whole big idea i had and ask her the next time we hang out.”
“oh! that was also one of my questions! how the hell have you been hanging out with y/n and both me and matt didn’t know about it?! we live together and i still didn’t know!”
chris chuckles, “there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me nick. and it’s gonna stay that way, so if you could stop asking me a million questions that would be great,” he sarcastically grins, and nick just rolls his eyes. nick closes the door behind him, and chris immediately goes back to texting you.
the podcast episode was posted a few days ago, and immediately the fans have been questioning who chris was texting. there have been many many guesses, but most have been you. chris feels like it’s his fault, and the last thing he wants is for you to feel like you’re being led on, so there’s only one thing to do.
“y/n, i have a question,” chris says nervously, looking down at you as your head rests on his arm.
“what is it?” you ask, knowing exactly what it is. or hoping, at least.
“well, obviously i like you. a lot. and i was just wondering if you wanted to make this official? will you be my girlfriend?”
“of course i will chris, is that even a question?” you giggle, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off of chris’ shoulders. he smiles at you and gently places his hands on your cheeks, pulling your faces towards his. your lips melt together, and your hands find their way to the back of his neck.
you both end up falling asleep in chris’ bed, and while you both nap, you’re unaware that nick and matt both arrive back home. they enter chris’ room after calling his name a few times with no response, only to see you both asleep. of course, them being the immature boys they are, take your guys’ picture. unfortunately, you learn about this the hard way when you see the photo in their photo dump a few days later. you gasp and immediately check the comments, expecting tons of hate comments.
“i knew it was y/n! they’re so cute!”
“AWWW”
“cutest couple ever”
you immediately text chris, and you both share a big grin over the situation. although you never would have expected your situation with chris to have gotten semi-exposed, you were just glad everyone was so supportive.
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xo-cori · 7 months
Text
it’s all a game to me anyway (II)
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pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader
summary: pining after athletes is never a good idea. that is, unless you’re good at getting what you want.
warnings: smut (MDNI), choking if you squint, praise kink, jesse being an ally
a/n: y’alllll this is ass but i got sm requests for a part 2. also @feelsoseencantdream wanted me to tag them so i’m thinking of making a taglist??? lmk if you wanna be added 😈 ALSO PSA!!! don’t sleep w anybody if you aren’t 100% sure that they’re CLEAN ok thx
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The very next day, you follow your usual routine. Daydream through all of your classes until you can finally start your venture towards the sports building, phone on silent with one headphone in your ear. However, the thrumming of your heart only drowns out the music, and it’s an unfamiliar feeling; the way your nerves are getting the best of you, the way you can only hope to be the one in charge here.
But, your nerves turn out to be right.
When you open the door to the rink that is usually filled with people at this time of day, you’re surprised to see that Abby is sitting there alone on the first bleacher. She doesn’t have on her usual hockey get-up; rather, she wears a grey hoodie and sweatpants, which tells you that she isn’t here to practice. Instead, she repeatedly runs a sharpener over the blade of one of her skates.
“Looking for someone?” She wonders, not even sparing a glance in your direction.
You cross your arms, opting to ignore her question and spare yourself the embarrassment. “No practice today?”
“Got cancelled. Coach’s daughter has a stomach bug,” she huffs, “besides, I think we all could use a day off.”
“Oh.” You reply, a small amount of anxiety creeping its way into your body. You step forward to take a seat a few inches away from her. “But you came here anyways? Why?”
Abby finally looks up from her skate and raises an eyebrow at you. “Why did you?”
This is a dynamic you aren’t used to. Being questioned like this without having anything snarky to say in response; it’s almost like Abby has the ability to steal the words from your mouth before you can even come up with them. “You know why.” You say.
She gestures to the empty rink. “No, not really. I figured you’d leave once you realized that there’s no one here to watch.”
“I’m here because you started something without finishing it.” You tell her, sternly, but it only makes her smile in amusement.
“Without finishing you, you mean.” She points out. “There’s cameras here. You, of all people, should know that.”
“We’ll go to the locker room again,” you reach out to grab her hand. “We can–”
“No.” Abby shuts you down immediately, though she doesn’t retract her hand from your grip. She lets you run your thumbs over her calloused palm and pretends not to notice the way it makes goosebumps rise across her arms; chalks it up to how damn cold it is in there. “Give me your phone.”
You tilt your head, confused, but you do what she says with a bit of hesitance. She takes your phone and goes to your contacts, adding her own number and name before giving it back to you. “I have to go. Text me your dorm number.”
Then, she stands up without another word and heads toward the door, leaving you in the same position you’d found yourself in the night before; this time, though, there’s hope. There’s an implication that she’ll finish what she started after all. You make sure to leave out the back door.
“Dina!” You call as you unlock the door to your room, seeing your roommate perk up from the couch. As per usual, her boyfriend, Jesse is laying with his feet kicked up on the armrest and his head in her lap.
She smiles when she sees you, quickly grabbing the remote to pause their movie. “What’s up, babe? You look like you just ran a marathon.”
A cheesy smile makes its way onto your face. “Literally nothing is wrong right now, because guess who’s coming over.”
Dina thinks for a moment, nose scrunched in concentration seeing as there’s lots of possibilities. But, the fact that she’s never seen you this excited about a girl before is enough of a hint as to who the lucky lady is. She pushes Jesse off of her and shoots up from her seat. “Abby?! No fucking way!”
You nod excitedly. “Yes fucking way! I don’t know when, or why, but–”
“Wait, since when is she into girls? Wasn’t she just with Owen?” Dina puts a hand on her hip, obviously just as confused as you.
“They broke up, but… if I was with Owen, I’d probably switch sides, too.” You shrug. “Either way, she’s coming tonight.”
“Which Abby?” Jesse asks, sitting up on the couch to look at you. “You’re acting all lovey-dovey, so I’m gonna assume she’s a good catch.”
You roll your eyes. “Come on, you know which Abby. Abby Anderson, captain of the hockey team? Six feet of pure muscle?”
Suddenly, Jesse seems just as invested in this conversation as you and Dina. “Jesus Christ, how’d you pull her?” He jokes, though you know it’s a genuine question– anybody involved in your university’s gossip knows that Abby hates hook-ups, and anyone who shoots their shot with her usually just makes a fool of themselves. Not you, though. You aren’t sure why but you’re hoping to find out.
“I don’t know! I’m so nervous. Why am I so nervous?” You place a hand over your rapidly beating heart.
Dina strolls over to you and grabs your shoulder. “Because you’ve been trying to scoop her up for, like, three months now. It’s weird to see you all amped up, but I don’t blame you, honestly. She’s intimidating and hot.”
“I’m literally sitting right here,” Jesse reminds her.
“Not for long, hopefully.” You look up at Dina. “You guys can do me a solid and finish your movie at Jesse’s place, right? Please?”
“Two steps ahead of you, sugar. I’m not waiting around for Anderson to show up. She’s… well, like I said, she’s intimidating.” Dina grabs Jesse’s car keys from the kitchen counter, which is Jesse’s cue to finally get off of the couch.
“Agreed,” he shakes his head, “I’ve seen her on that rink once and I can tell she’s not to be fucked with.”
You let out a sigh, relieved that this last-minute arrangement is already going smoothly. “Oh my god, thank you,” you say as Dina places her hands on your shoulders so that she can look into your eyes.
“Don’t have too much fun, you hear me? The last thing we need is a noise complaint.” She instructs you, then leans in to give you a peck on the forehead. “See you tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah, yeah, I hear you.” You grumble under your breath. Jesse waves a goodbye before they both head to the door, opening it and promptly freezing.
You lean forward to see that Abby is already standing right there.
“Oh. Hey,” Dina says, “uh, we were just leaving.”
Jesse smiles awkwardly while Dina grabs his wrist and ushers him out the door. Abby steps inside, head tilted over her shoulder to watch the couple speed-walk down the hallway before she shuts the door. “You seriously shoo’d your roommate away?”
“No,” you lie, “they… she was already going to his place tonight.”
She just stares at you, obviously not buying it. “Something tells me that isn’t true.”
You cross your arms. “Whatever. Why did you come here, anyways?”
Abby sighs as she walks forward and glances around, not yet directly toward you, almost like she’s surveying the area. As she gets closer, you catch a whiff of the familiar scent of her shampoo; pine and vanilla, already clouding your senses with desire. Your need for her has become primal. It’s something deep inside of you that has no beginning or end, no rhyme and no reason. “You don’t really need me to answer that question, do you?” She scoffs. “I thought I made it pretty clear.”
You look down at your feet. “Still would be nice to hear you say it.”
With the distance between you down to only a couple of inches, Abby’s standing in front of you in no time, her undivided attention now completely on you. You feel so small, and you kind of like it.
“What do you want me to say?” She shrugs. This time, though, there’s no underlying mockery in her voice. It’s a genuine question that gives you a sense of security. You gaze into her ocean blue eyes, cursing yourself for the way it makes your heart skip a beat.
“Maybe that I didn’t make myself look dumb yesterday when I told you how much I wanted you,” you answer, “and that you feel the same way.”
Abby tilts her head. “So, you expect me to say that I want you?”
“Kind of.” You mumble.
“Hm,” she leans back a bit, seemingly deep in thought for a moment (though her eyes don’t leave yours once). “My ego’s a little too big for that, but I’d rather just show you.”
You’re given no time to reply before you find yourself in the same position as the night before, with Abby grabbing hold of your waist and lifting you up to sit you down on the kitchen table. You spread your legs so she can stand between them as her lips finally meet yours, the show of strength making you melt beneath her.
This kiss is nothing like the last; carnal, sure, but there’s a hunger inside it and a strange sense of urgency, as if the world is ending and she needs to have you now. Her tongue effortlessly slides against yours and, unlike last time, there’s no battle for dominance. You submit to her without hesitation.
Abby, on the other hand– you’d have no idea how hard she’s trying to keep it together. You’re not exactly the type of person she could see herself falling for. She has a reputation to upkeep, which just so happens to be the complete opposite of yours. If anybody were to even speak both of your names in the same sentence, it could ruin her, leave her image tarnished while you move onto the next girl.
That doesn’t stop her, though. Now that she knows how it feels to kiss you, to touch you, to hear you beg for more, she doesn’t think anything could stop her.
You reach down to grab hold of her wrist, guiding her hand up to its rightful spot on your throat, and she wastes no time pressing her fingers down on the sides of your neck. Your mouth falls open with a gasp, thighs tightening around her waist. She rears back to look at you. “So fucking demanding.” She laughs.
“Just want you to touch me,” you huff out, voice low and shaky. “You left me hanging, Abby.”
“Because I wasn’t gonna fuck you in a locker room.” She says.
You smile, a mischievous glimmer in your half-lidded eyes. “But you’ll fuck me here?”
Abby smiles, too. “That’s the plan.”
She reaches down to the bottom of your sweater to pull it up over your head, throwing it behind her on the floor somewhere. It suddenly becomes very obvious that you’d been counting on getting lucky– you didn’t even bother putting on a bra.
Her eyes fall onto your chest and she stares shamelessly. “Really?”
Instead of responding, this time, you grab her wrists again and use the leverage to place her hands over both of your breasts. Even in the dim light of the kitchen, you can still see the way her pupils dilate once her palms meet your soft skin. She gently squeezes down, just once to test the waters, but you can tell from that action alone just how inexperienced she is with other women.
You place your hands over hers, making her squeeze again. Her breathing becomes heavy and her eyes become curious. She watches the way your skin moves between her fingers, beckoning her to explore.
Abby moves down to your neck, pressing hot kisses all over the marks she’d made the night before, licking over each bite mark that had already began to fade. You hadn’t even tried to cover them up. This only means something to her because she’d seen you walking around campus in those low-cut tank tops, a concoction of makeup smothered over your neck to cover just a few hickies, though they’d remain visible to a trained eye.
She bends down to slip one of your nipples into her mouth, suckling and drooling as you let out soft whimpers of approval. You bring a hand to grip the edge of the table whilst the other snakes up to the back of her head, beneath her long braid so you can tug at the roots of her hair. Each time your fingernails scratch at her scalp, she lets out a quiet moan, sending the most intoxicating vibrations right between your legs. From this new position, Abby can feel the growing warmth pressed against her abdomen, even more so when you subconsciously roll your hips into her. You’d do anything for some friction, and you already know that she’d let you.
After a few moments, you use the leverage you have on her head to pull her off of your chest, making her look up at you with those wanting eyes of hers. “Get down,” you hum, pulling her down by the hair so that her cheek is pressed into your thigh. “It’s like I told you yesterday– you know what I want.”
Now it’s Abby’s turn to find herself lost for words. Maybe it’s the way you’re looking down at her, or maybe the fact that she can already smell you and it’s making her mouth water.
Her hands drag down your waist until they find the waistband of your shorts, hooking her fingers into it so she can pull them down. Too slowly for your taste, but you’d never blame somebody for wanting to take their time with you. Your raise your hips from the table so that she can finally pull the last piece of clothing from your body, letting it fall past your ankles as she gets down onto her knees. “Oh, fuck me,” she mumbles mostly to herself.
She’d never need another confidence boost after this. Abby’s been in your apartment for maybe ten minutes, and you’re already soaked down to your thighs.
As a cue for her to get a move on, you lay your right leg onto her shoulder and tighten your grip in her hair. It’s a wordless gesture that tells her everything she needs to know.
The moan that leaves your mouth when she finally dives in is nothing less than pathetic.
What she lacks in experience, she makes up for in enthusiasm. She tries to recall what makes her feel good; tracing certain shapes with her tongue, licking you up and down until you’re practically gushing into her mouth. She swallows every last drop as she eats you like a woman starved.
Her hands grab onto your thighs, keeping them closed around her head. She’d never admit it, of course, but the way you tremble beneath her hands only riles her up more. Her lips wrap around your clit and she whimpers when she feels all ten of your fingers grab onto her hair, keeping her trapped right there despite the fact that she could easily break free if she wanted to. You revel in that power– knowing just how strong she is, knowing that she chooses to let you be stronger.
The heels of your feet dig into her shoulder blades as her strong hands do their best to hold you in place. Sparks of pleasure catch fire in your belly, the first tell that you aren’t going to last long. “Slow down,” you cry, but the sound of your voice all needy and soft just sends Abby into overdrive.
Her tongue attacks your clit, overwhelming you with the focused stimulation, causing your back to arch closer to her. Your head falls back as your eyes shut tightly, mindlessly whimpering and whining. She can feel your muscles tensing, trembling, like you don’t quite know what to do with yourself, and finds herself wondering how many other girls have had you in this same position. How many other girls have thought they’re the only one to make you feel this good, to make you bend to their every whim like this.
In your mind, though, you can only think of one thing; this odd feeling that Abby has awakened inside of you. A desire to be savored rather than devoured. She licks you up like you’re the last drop of water on Earth and you can’t even find it in yourself to mock her for it. There’s another feeling, a more physical one, quickly approaching. Embarrassingly quick, might you add.
Your hips jerk when you feel one of Abby’s fingers gently slip into you, exploring your warm, soft walls that clench around her so graciously. The arch in your back makes it easier to find that gummy spot which she wastes no time stroking with the rough pad of her finger. “How– f-fuck, how do you know all this?” You whine.
“Read some articles,” she mumbles right into you, sending waves of pleasure up your spine.
You let out a short-lived laugh at the thought of Abby fucking Anderson doing research on how to pleasure you properly. You can’t imagine any of her boyfriends had shown her how to take care of a woman, though, so it was only a matter of time– if it wasn’t for you, it would most likely be for herself. “Good girl,” you sigh, “I’m so close… oh, shit.”
The praise makes Abby moan into you as her dark blue eyes look up from between your legs to appreciate the sight. Your thighs are pressing against her rosy cheeks no matter how hard she tries to keep them open, your eyes struggling to stay open, your chest heaving up and down as you try (and fail) to preserve some stability in your breath.
Finally, that feeling in your belly reaches its peak when a second finger joins the first. Your head falls back and you put a hand over your mouth to muffle a quiet scream.
You make a point of not telling her, or even asking for permission, seeing as your trust had already been destroyed by her in this department the night before.
She seems to be in a very different mood tonight, though, because she doesn’t let up even after the tremors had stopped and the pleasure turns to pain; the good kind, where it’s all too much and there’s nothing you can do about it. You press your heel into her shoulder, pushing against the muscle there so she’d finally detach from you. A small gasp leaves your lips when she slowly pulls out her pruned fingers and looks up at you. The lower half of her face is completely covered in your cum, a sight you’re sure will be forever etched into your mind. How could you go back to normal after this? How could you pretend that anyone else compares?
You grab her jaw and bring her back up to your level, messily smashing your lips to hers as you hold onto her shoulder with your other hand. Much to her dismay, though, you’re quick to pull back.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’ve done that before, Anderson.” You say, albeit breathless.
“If you knew any better, you wouldn’t have let me do that.” She replies. You laugh, but you know she’s right, and you know she’s serious.
“But you liked it,” you implore, clearly searching for some sort of validation, which she quickly grants you in the form of a toothy smile; a genuine one that she just can’t wipe away.
“Maybe. How long do we have until your roommate gets back?” Her clammy hands come down to your waist, kneading the fat of your hips.
You raise an eyebrow. “Long enough. Why? You want a taste of your own medicine?”
The question is enough to visibly light up her eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I do,” she confirms with a shy voice like she didn’t just give you the best orgasm of your life in under fifteen minutes. She’s sure her boxers are soaked right through the fabric, and honestly, she’s starting to think only you could bring the release she craves.
“Say no less. You gotta carry me, though,” you huff as you wrap your trembling thighs around her waist. “I can’t feel my legs.”
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grey342 · 7 months
Note
Hii! I’m so glad to see someone currently writing bradley cooper fics because honestly PHIL CAN GET IT. i wanted to request maybe a jealous!phil where reader goes on a friends bachelors trip and knowing Phil’s past he gets all angsty, as smutty as you’d like :) honestly anything you’d write id love!!
Don't leave me
Jealous! Phil x reader
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synopsis - Phil's girlfriend goes on a trip for a bachelorette party and he's not happy about it.
warnings - MDNI 18+ content, Phil being dramatic, Phil being jealous (Obv), lingerie, slight handjob, P in V, riding and praise.
authors note - Thank you so much for this request and the sweet compliment! I gotta be honest i'm not a huge fan of angst so I made Phil a lil more dramatic and kinda sassy. I still hope you like it :)
please do not steal my work - belongs to @grey342
This man is gonna be the death of me.
The main thought running through your head whilst packing. His remarks and whines can be heard from the next room.
Your close friend was having her bachelorette party this weekend but, she also wanted to spend a couple of days with the bridal party before her wedding. So you all decided to spend a long weekend in Vegas. And Phil is not happy about it.
"I mean, I don't get why you have to go," you roll your eyes at him, "it's not like she's your best friend."
"Oh yeah? And who is?" You retaliate, smirking.
"Me." He scoffs, as if this is obvious information, walking into the room. You take one look at him and start laughing.
You're not stupid, you kind of guessed why he was so mad about you going but now. He's made it really clear for you.
"What's so fucking funny?" He says confused, placing his hands on his hips. A gesture you would usually find attractive but right now, it's making you laugh even harder.
"I just, uh, I can't believe it," you say in between wheezes, " I mean. I had an idea but now it's so obvious." You quietly chuckle.
"What? What is? You're not making any sense." He declares, clearly getting frustrated. After calming yourself down you finally say-
"You're jealous." Apparently, it's now his turn to burst out laughing.
"What? Where the fuck did you get that idea?" He managed in between laughs.
"You're jealous. You're so insistent on me not going, you're trying to tell me all the bad things about the girls. I mean you literally just said "she's not your best friend, I am." You're SO jealous." You clarify.
He's silent just staring at you. You can see the clogs turning in his head to try and come up with a good response. You swear you can see the light bulb appear on top of his head.
"You're just saying that to make yourself feel better about leaving me. For a whole weekend might I add." He says almost sassily and walks out of the room. Clearly proud of himself.
"Sweetie," you sigh, "it's only three days. I'll be back before you know it. We can text throughout the day and call every night." You try to deal.
"Or I have a better idea... don't go and we can talk all day and all night. Face to face."
You groan in frustration. You cannot believe this is the type of conversation you were having with your grown ass boyfriend. Pick the sassy men they said. You internally roll your eyes.
You walk into the living room to see him practically pouting on the couch. Scoffing, you go to walk away when an idea pops into your head.
"Hey Phil, if you stop complaining right now you can have your present early." He looks at you confused.
"What the fuck do you mean "present"?"
"Well since you are so predictable," you emphasise the last word, " I knew you would act like this when I said i'm going on a trip. So, I bought you something as a "sorry for leaving you, you big baby" gift."
"You did?" You can see the glint of excitement in his eyes.
"Yes my little princess but, clearly you are a lot more upset than I anticipated so i'm willing to give it to you early. If you want it that is." You wager. There's a long pause where he's weighing out his options.
"Okay," he clasps his hand together, " I have decided that I would like my present early. BUT I still want one for when you come back." He leans back on the couch, glowing with pride.
"Fine. I'll be right back." He rubs his hand together in anticipation as you leave the room.
Moments later you're shouting down the hall, "close your damn eyes." He grunts in disapproval.
"Okay and open." He does and your met with a groan that also sound like a moan.
"Oh baby." You're stood in front of him in a lingerie set, barely covering anything. Plus it's in his favourite colour.
"Am I forgiven?" You say, moving down to straddle his lap.
"Yes. A million times yes." He exclaims instantaneously as you giggle.
His mouth meets yours passionately, with your teeth and tongues clashing. His hands make their way down to your ass and yours to his chest. Pushing him lightly so his back meets the couch.
His slowly starts to kiss your jaw, then down your neck and finally the top of your chest. He looks up at you, almost pleading, and you give him a look of approval. His hands move around your back to unclasp your bra.
He slides it off at an agonisingly slow pace. When the bra is fully off he stares at your chest in awe. He moves his head down taking one nipple in the mouth and groping the other. You let out a content sigh.
He switches over, repeating the same process as you began to rock slowly, back and forth, on his lap. His moans vibrate on your chest as your breaths turn into pants.
You reach down in between you and start pulling at the waistband of his grey sweatpants, indicating you want them off. He knows what you want and immediately begins to pull them down. You look down and eagerly take him in your hand. You swipe your thumb over the tip and began pumping up and down.
"Fuck.." He groans. You push your panties over to the side and slide onto him. Both of you moaning in unison. You'll never get used to the way he feels, filling you up perfectly.
Once you're both ready, you begin to move back and forth, riding him. His hands take sanctuary on your hips, slowly guiding you. You lean down, placing your mouth on his, capturing his groans in your mouth.
"You're doing so good. Riding my dick so well baby, my good girl." He says against your mouth. He reaches down and starts to rub slow circles on your clit. You whimper at the contact.
"Oh fuck, do that again." Obeying his orders you do it again. He uses his other hand to begin assisting you in bouncing up and down. Your movements begin to change pace, going faster.
His groans and your whimpers becoming louder. He dick twitching inside of you, indicating he's close. You ride faster and bounce harder. He in turn, quickens his movements on your clit and his fingers dig into your hips, leaving bruises for later.
"Oh shit, Phil.. I'm close."
"I know honey, I know hold on a lil longer." He pants. Your cries being the response. Your head thrown back, eyes screw shut.
"Hey, look at me. I wan't you to look at me when you cum." He demands. You immediately open your eyes and stare into his. His gaze possessive.
"Oh fuck, Phil." You whine.
"Let go baby, give it to me." That send you over the edge. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the pleasure taking over and your body began to shake.
"Oh shit, oh shit." He says as he fills you up, head resting in the crook of your neck.
Coming down from your highs, he lifts his head and smiles at you.
"What?"
"You're so beautiful." He places a strand of hair behind your ear.
"Mhm, i'm still going." You stand up and start walking towards the bedroom.
"Ah! Come on honey, i'm the love of your life! You can't leave me!" He calls out, following you.
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anarcoqueer1994 · 1 month
Text
Never Have I Ever (Steddie Ficlet)
The older teens—Jonathan, Argyle, Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Eddie,-- had been hanging out drinking at Steve’s house. No one can remember whose idea it was, but they ended up playing “Never Have I Ever” with who ever being the one who has done it having to take a drink. It was fun, mostly dumb ones, like “Never have I ever been out of Indiana (excluding the Upside-Down) or “Never have I ever smoked weed.” It was one of Robin’s though, that nearly gave Eddie a heart attack.
She looked around the table, smirking, half tipsy. “Never have I ever slept with a guy.” She laughed. Eddie thought nothing of it. He figured she used this one to get as many people at the table to drink as possible. Eddie wasn’t surprised when Jonathan, Argyle (they are dating now, he thinks), and Nancy take a drink with him. What nearly causes him to choke on his own beer is seeing Steve also pick up his glass and take a sip.
His shock causes him to cough up his drink, and though his reaction may have been the most dramatic, but other than Robin, everyone else looked confused too. Steve was oblivious to the looks around the table though, only drunkenly turning to Robin saying “That’s not fair, dude. You knew you would be the only one not to drink.” He playfully complains. 
Eddie clears his throat, being the one to ask the question everyone was wondering. “Harrington, you slept with a guy?”
Steve looks around, first confused with the reaction, slowly realizing that everyone was looking at him. They weren’t judgmental, of course, just surprised. He looks awkwardly at Robin who just shrugs her shoulders, before he says. “Oops I guess I forgot to tell you guys. Kind of figured you all knew since we are all…you know…queer. “
Robin laughs at the absurdness of his statement. “Aww Steve, they thought you were our token straight.” She sticks out her tongue.
Eddie doesn’t know why but he kind of feels…jealous. When he thought Steve was straight, it was easy for him to just accept that Steve in unattainable, that he doesn’t like guys. But knowing he does…changes things. Steve was into dudes, and he is a dude. But now he feels like Steve is unattainable in a new way…he is out of his league. Steve can’t want Eddie, no matter how big of a stupid crush he has on him. That hurt more. He can’t explain why he said what he said next, maybe he is a masochist. But his mouth works faster than his brain. “Who?”
“What?” Steve scrunches his eyebrows together in confusion, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. Eddie hates that this makes him more attractive.
He wishes he could pull the word back in, he wishes it would have stayed trapped against his teeth, but it didn’t so he has to go with it. “Um…I mean who was the lucky guy that slept with King Steve?” He tries play it off as a joke, like he’s teasing but honestly part of him wants to know what Steve’s type is.
“Oh, um a few guys, I guess. The first one was Tommy. Before Nance and I dated, I used to hook up with Tommy and Carol sometimes. Most of the time it was the three of us, but I have been with both of them separately.” Steve goes red, realizing all the attention is on him now.
“You were like a …throuple with Tommy and Carol?” Nancy asks in disbelief.
“No, nothing like that!  What we did was just for fun. Those two were their own thing. “ He put his increasingly flushed face in his hands before continuing. “Let’s…uh move on from this embarrassing can of worms Robin has opened.
Everyone nods, but Eddie’s big mouth strikes again. “You said there was a few…”
“Eds, you really wanna know all the guys I slept with?” Steve raises his eyebrow, embarrassment going to amusement. He shoots Eddie a smirk before adding. “Why? You wanna be on that list?” He winks.
Shit. Eddie was too pushy. He doesn’t need to know. His face turns red. “Uh no. I’m sorry, I’m just being nosy. I’m sorry.” He repeats without his usual confidence. He continues to ramble apologies.
“Eddie…” Steve interrupts. “I’m just messing with you, man. It’s fine. I don’t have secrets with you guys. There were a few random hooks ups from the gay bar Robin, and I go to in Indianapolis, and um my senior year, I hooked up with one of the guys one the swim team. See no big secrets.” He laughs.
The tension Eddie was feeling dissipates with the sound of Steve’s laugh. Steve doesn’t care…Eddie is reading too much into this. “No big secrets.” He parrots back. And with that, they were back to the game, no one bringing up Steve’s “come out,” No mention of Eddie’s weird reaction, nothing that should make him nervous. But part of him swears he notices Steve staring him down more as the night goes on.
They end up all watching a movie, everyone passing out in the living room, half tipsy, and just feeling safe. Robin and Nancy are cuddled together on the couch while Jonathan and Argyle are tangled together on the love seat. Eddie had been on the chair and Steve was on the third cushion of the couch. They had been the only two still awake, neither very comfortable where they are. When the movie comes to an end, Steve whispers, “Eds…come on man. Let’s go upstairs.”
“up..stairs?” Eddie stutters out like some pathetic 13-year-old kid with a first crush. But he couldn’t help it. Was Steve asking his to go to bed with him? Maybe he wasn’t crazy. Maybe Steve was flirting with him earlier. Maybe he was staring.  
Eddie watches as Steve stands up, walks closer and holds out his hand, Eddie instinctively responds, taking the other man’s hand, letting him pull him up. “Yea, upstairs. That chair is not comfortable.”
“No, its not.” Eddie agrees as they head for the steps, still hand in hand. When they get to the top of the stairs though, Steve lets go. He starts leading Eddie to the opposite end of the hallway from his bedroom. When they stop in front of the door at the end, Eddie understands. He feels his heart drop as Steve opens the door to the guest room. “Finally have an excuse to use this thing.” He softly laughs, before turning away, saying over his shoulder “Night, Eds. Let me know if you need anything.”
All Eddie can do is nod lamely, as he steps into his room for the night. He closes the door before collapsing on the bed. His brain is on an emotional roller coaster. He feels stupid thinking that Steve Harrington, queer or not, would be into him. Before he can spiral into self-deprivation, he is pulled back to reality by a knock on the door.
When he opens it, there is Steve Harrington, now clad only in the tiny red shorts he sleeps in. It takes every thing in him to keep his brain from short circuiting. “Steve? What’s up?” He hopes he sounds casual.
“Eddie, why did you react that way earlier when you found out I like guys?” Steve cuts to the chase.
“I..I told you man, just surprised.” He tells a half lie.
“I know, I know. You said that but why did you want to know who?” Steve continues, gears obvious turning in his, trying make the connections he thinks he sees.
“I don’t know.” Eddie looks down at his own feet. Looking at Steve feels dangerous right now, Like Steve could see right through him.”
“Eds? You don’t know?” Steve asks skeptically.
“Yea I don’t know. I just asked. Making conversation, man” Eddie deflects, still looking down.
“I don’t believe you.” Steve says back plainly. Eddie was about to protest, insist Steve was wrong. But before he can, he feels a gentle hand under his chin, pushing his head upwards, so Steve can meet his eyes. He’s frozen as Steve smirks whispering, “I think you wanted to be on that list too.”
Eddie can feel his cheeks going red. Without thinking he replies, “I want to be the end of that list.” As soon as the words leave him mouth, he wishes he could pull them back in. “Oh god, I am so sorry. I don’t expect you to just settle with me or anything. I’m sure you have better.’
“No Eddie. I wouldn’t be settling.” He lets out a sign. “ I should have phrased this better. Eddie, I want you. And not just for sex. Like don’t get me wrong, that’s part of it. You’re so fucking hot. But you are so funny and smart and dorky and such a good friend. I’ve been into you for so long. So um, what do you think?” All confidence and charismatic attitude is gone.
“You like me?” Eddie sputters out.
“Oh my god! Yes, Eds. I do. I like you. Honestly, I think I love you and I don’t know how else to spell it out to you. I just don’t get it, Eds? What more…” Steve is cut off by the soft lips pressed again his. It takes him a moment to realize Eddie is kissing him but when he does, he finds himself kissing back. His hands tangle in Eddie’s hair while Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s waist.
When they finally pull apart, Eddie asks “So you wanna add me to that list?
“Yea, I do. Eventually. But for tonight I just want to cuddle with me…boyfriend?” He asks, worried he jumped the gun.
“Yea…I want to cuddle with my boyfriend, too.” He smiles, pulling Steve into the guestroom, closing the door behind them.
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fluff-n-cookies · 5 months
Note
Hey, love! I’m new to this, so sorry if I’m doing this wrong :) You can call me Moon btw. I love your writing and appreciate how it’s all platonic!!!! I was wondering if you could do Aizawa (and maybe Mic or whoever else you want) with an introverted teen he took in asking to braid his hair, and getting lost in thought and humming while listening to him complain about work or something. It’s fine if not <3333
Hi Moon! It's nice to meet you! I am so so so so sorry for replying so late. I was feeling burnt out and just really needed a break. I hope you understand. I was also hoping I could use this prompt for other characters so if you’ll give me permission I’d love to use your idea again for different characters. :)
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Aizawa never liked coming home. He never liked the blinding white light bulbs that came with his crappy apartment and was too lazy to change, he didn’t like the smell of coffee and dirty dishes he felt were too overwhelming to do. He used to only have the energy to eat some soggy cereal and pass out on the couch before getting up to do hero work in the morning, or 2 am, or come home at 11 pm but that didn’t matter, it was just the same thing every day. 
But now, he had you. Being the sole survivor of a strange house fire at 1 am and having no memories whatsoever and having been considered shy and introverted. You were one with no guidance, no past and a future unknown and uncharted. And while you had been proven to have the intelligence of a child your age and then some, you had little to no knowledge of much else. You were a young girl in need of love and protection. (at least to him.)
So he took you in, begrudgingly, at first, but he soon felt a sense of comfort in your presence, a sense of happiness even. 
He even decided to pick up a parenting book or two, and found some mommy bloggers as well. I mean, what else is a man to do except try and be a good parent to a child he loves ever so dearly?
He learned he needed to make food for said child, instead of living off take out and what he can find at the convenience store next door. Children also need to live in a clean environment, so that is what he did, he tries to at least do the dishes and laundry regularly now. 
Guess he needs to listen too, because he often finds himself listening to your rants about school and homework, as well as the rants of your hobbies, about what you did today, how you felt today, so many things. And I guess, just a hunch, that his life was finally falling into rhythm. 
But it remained mostly the same.
Tonight was no different.
It goes;come home, take off shoes and coat, check if you’re awake, make some ramen (and some for you too if you are awake.) complain, go to bed. 
So here he is, tiptoeing to your room at the end of the hallway, careful not to wake you if you are asleep. Only to find that you are, in fact, awake. The warm light bulbs he installed in your room peaked through the crack in the door you had left for the cat to come at the ungodly hours of the night. You could also see the various trinkets and hobbies you had picked up over your 4 years of living together and made your room the heart of the whole apartment. Lively and bright. And there you were, hunched over your desk watching a video on your computer, fiddling with a piece of origami paper, attentively following the instructions from the video to try and make an origami frog. 
It took about 10 seconds to recognize he was there, smiling, happily at your antics. You smiled a little, but that smile made it all worth it to do what he does, be a hero and a single parent both at the same time, a smile that could light up even the darkest of nights. You did a little run too, you ran a little run to get to him but still tried to be light on your feet so as not to bother the neighbors.
Always so considerate. He thought. 
It was a regular routine really, for him to get you from your room and make some ramen, but as you two sat on the couch, TV was buzzing with the latest new stories (who needs a dining room table? Just use the couch! Why waste the space? It is the perfect space for your plants so for your plants it will be!) Something different happened today. 
For in the smallest little voice, he heard you squeak out,
 “c-can I braid your hair.” a slight tremble in your voice 
Now that was a surprise,
“What do you mean?” 
“I’m sorry, I meant it as in can I do your hair, I’m sorry I shou-”
“Sure.” he replied nonchalantly.
“What?” 
“You can braid my hair. Go on, the hair ties are in the bathroom.”
“Oh.” there was a pause. “Okay.”
Here he was, out in the dead of night at 12 in the morning, a young girl braiding his black locks of hair while he complained about PresentMic’s antics while eating convenience store ramen. For once in his life he felt at peace, as the world slowed down he felt himself slowly understanding. Understanding that it may be over, the repetitive nights of the never ending loneliness. It’s over.
And it starts here, with you, with tonight where you braid his hair and listen to him rant about the outside world. But here it’s safe, in this crappy apartment with the cool light bulbs and the distant stench of dirty dishes and the coffee he had this morning. It's okay. Life is okay.
Maybe he wasn’t doomed to have the same routine every day over and over again.
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