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#if u don’t know by now that i’m dramatic idk what to tell u
lili-of-the-wildfire · 4 months
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daily reminder that azriel SMILES!! when he met feyre he smiled! when he gave nesta her gift, he smiled! the first thing he did when he saw gwyn was give her a smile! he laughs!! u think he survived hell just to never smile or be happy?? sure he might play it coy sometimes, usually to rile cassian and rhys up, but he laughs into his tea and bites his lip to keep from smiling and openly grins!! and that’s canon! LET THIS MAN BE HAPPY IN PEACE I BEG OF U.
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months
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okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em
hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it
warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......
a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye
“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.” 
“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.” 
He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief. 
“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.” 
“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.” 
“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.” 
The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication. 
You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest. 
“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.” 
Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest. 
“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.” 
Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you. 
“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.” 
And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there. 
The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.  
You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?  
It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday. 
---------------------------------------------------
The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.  
He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence. 
“Can we talk?” 
You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph. 
“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?” 
“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"
“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!” 
The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth. 
Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with. 
“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.” 
“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?” 
His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins. 
“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 
“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.” 
He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.  
“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?” 
“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad. 
“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”  
You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you. 
“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.” 
You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake. 
After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered. 
“Are you still mad at me?” 
He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm. 
“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.” 
“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.” 
He chuckles. 
“At an entirely different university.” 
“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”
While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident. 
“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.” 
“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?” 
Spencer sighs. 
“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.” 
You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin. 
“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.
Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected. 
“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.” 
But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.
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cheolhub · 9 months
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sar baby 😻 light of my life, HAPPY ONE YEAR! I COULD NOT BE MORE PROUD OF YOU!!
now business: can i have juyeon with the prompt “that really does make you hard. i can feel you pulsing inside me.” 👹
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6:10 p.m. — lee juyeon
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prompt. “that really does make you hard. i can feel you pulsing inside me.”
wc. 1.6k [srsly idk how to write a drabble under 1k]
warnings. switch!juyeon, switch!reader, needy juyeon, heavy praise, several uses of good boy, pet names [baby], unprotected sex, creampie, kinda messy sex? – MINORS DNI 18+
note. keir, my angel, my bff <# thank u so so much! u know i for sure would’ve deleted this account if you hadn’t been here to keep me grounded (as u always do.) i love u more than u will ever know & i will forever thank the universe for bringing u 2 me 🤬!! & THANK YEWWW FOR REQUESTING OUR BELOVED, SLUTTY JUYO! i hope u like it (not proofread bc u usually do that for me hahah)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ join the birthday bash!  ࿐ྂ
p.s. this is my first tbz work… plz be gentle 🫡
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you swear greed will be lee juyeon’s downfall. gluttonous and insatiable, the crazed, unhinged man cannot keep his hands off of you for the life of him. 
you think he’d die if he went a half day without touching you, kissing you, fucking you– that, or he’d die from the lack of attention.
it’s almost concerning. almost… sometimes, you can’t be bothered to care when it feels like you’re on cloud nine every time he puts his hands on you. 
but sometimes, you are bothered by it. 
“baby, i’m busy,” you mumble, typing away at your laptop. you’re hyper focused on the work document in front of you, the blue light straining your eyes. “just give me a little.”
he’s standing behind your chair with his arms crossed, a small pout etched into his lips. 
“you said you’d be done by 6? it’s 6:10…” he sulks and you crack a smile, spinning your chair around to look at your pouty boyfriend. 
you grin, “what, are you timing me now, juyeon?” 
he sighs dramatically, “‘course ‘m not, but you promised me you wouldn’t be working past 6.” 
“i have to get this spreadsheet done before tomorrow morning, baby. and i would’ve gotten it done this morning if a certain someone didn’t beg me to stay in bed with them.” you joke lightly, “do you want me to get fired or something?” 
the frown on his face deepens as the smile on yours spreads. “you know i don’t… i just miss you.” he sighs, dropping his arms by his sides. “feels like i haven’t seen you in hours. tired of you doing work when you can be doing other things worthy of your time. like me, for example.” 
you reach out, taking his hands into yours. “two. you lasted two hours, juyeon.”
“two hours too long.” he whines softly and you can’t help but find him so endearing. “baby, please, just… just take a break.”
he doesn’t wait for you to object, pulling you up to your feet and dragging you back into your bedroom and you groan, knowingly. you’re not getting that damn spreadsheet done until he’s fucked himself to sleep.
“you have to be quick, juyo. i wanna finish my work before it’s too late to order takeout.” you tell him as he tugs you, to which he mumbles a ‘yeah, yeah.’ it’s obvious he has no intention of acting in accordance with your wishes. 
because when you’re in your room, he pulls you in for a desperate kiss. he moans into your mouth as his hands squeeze your hips and pull you so you’re flush against his body. you feel his hard cock through the thin material of his shorts when he grinds into you. 
you pull back with a breathy giggle, “baby, how are you already hard?”
“i’ve been hard for an hour now.” he huffs, gripping you tighter. he lowers his voice till it’s just barely above a whisper, “kept thinkin’ ‘bout how… how you called me your good boy… and how you told me how good my cock made you feel. looked so pretty and you felt so fucking good, baby. wanna feel you around me again. need to.”
you let out a sharp breath, mind wandering back to the long hour he had your ankles resting on his shoulders this morning. your cunt pulses as you remember how he fucked you so nice and so deep while you brainlessly babbled out praise. most of it being incoherent comments about his perfect cock. 
curse lee juyeon and his dick for turning you on when it shouldn’t.
he groans, digging himself into your clothed tummy. “gonna let me fuck you, yeah?”
you moan softly, arousal probably soaking through your shorts with how wet you are. “as long as you’re quick, then you can, baby.”
he nods mindlessly, but he’s ignoring that request again. 
he leisurely shimmies your shorts and panties off and then his own shorts– he has on nothing underneath and you wish you could say you were surprised– before guiding you onto the bed. he towers over you, repeatedly slapping the head of his cock against your clit and laughing softly as you moan and jerk underneath him. 
you huff at his taunting, “stop that,”
he feigns innocence with a faux pout, “stop what?”
two can play at that game.
 “juyeon?” you jut your bottom lip out, “you wanna be my good boy, don’t you?” 
it’s like a flip switches on inside of him. he’s left breathless, nodding his head eagerly like a puppy, pulling his cock away from your clit.
“good. now fuck me and be quick. i’m not gonna tell you again.” you command, voice rigid and unforgiving. 
he doesn’t protest, he doesn’t complain, instead he obliges without an ounce of hesitation. he lines himself up with your entrance– where you clench around absolutely nothing– pushing the tip of his cock into you slowly. 
you inhale sharply, the air in your lungs fleeing quickly as you feel your walls stretch to accommodate his size. you have to tell your body to relax at the sudden invasion, unclenching so he can push himself in deeper. 
“baby,” he moans, throwing his head back. “you’re so fucking tight. oh, fuck–”
“j-just keep moving, juyo, i can take it.” you manage to tell him, voice cracking ever so slightly towards the end of your sentence. 
you whimper softly when he bottoms out. his cock fills you like no other and the thought has you clamping around him, walls molding to his shape just as they’re meant to. 
juyeon pulls out with a whine and pushes back into you slowly. you’re sure he’s doing it for his own sake. any faster and your poor, pent-up baby is going to cum embarrassingly quick. 
but you have other things you need to do, so this needs to go at your preferred pace.
“go faster, baby,” you say airly. 
he reluctantly speeds up, giving you deep, precise thrusts. he lodges his bottom lip between his perfectly straight teeth attempting to bite back the ridiculously needy sounds his body wants to expose. 
and you notice, letting out a giggly moan. “that’s it, baby. you’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” you coo at him.
juyeon gasps, releasing his lip so a broken moan can slip past them, his cock twitching uncontrollably inside of you. 
you hum in delight, “hmmm, that really does make you hard, huh?” you ask rhetorically. “i can feel you pulsing inside of me.”
and you can. he’s throbbing in between your walls like he’s about to bust inside of you and it’s filling you with the utmost joy. when you’d met juyeon forever and a year ago, you wouldn’t have thought he’d be so easy to reduce to a mess. you’re not complaining, though. not when he sounds so pretty cursing and moaning for you like a cute bitch in heat. 
“fuh-fuck, again– please, s-say it again.” he begs, eyes pleading and eyebrows knit together. 
you moan softly, willing to give him everything he wants. “cock feels so good. you’re fucking me so good, juyeon. you’re such a good boy.” you needily place your hand between your thighs, right above where his cock meets your messy cunt. your fingers quickly find your clit, rubbing at the swollen bud in tandem with his now-erratic thrusts. “my good boy.”
you clench around him as the words tumble out of your mouth and juyeon’s eyes nearly roll. he cries out needily, “close. ‘m close, baby–”
you rub your clit faster and squeeze him tighter, mewling out your reply. “cum for me, baby. cum inside me ‘n fill me up.”
he whines, pounding into your harder and harder before his thrusts cease and he’s pressed deep inside of you. his warm seed spills, coating your walls as he lets out a long, drawn out groan of pleasure. 
he wants to collapse, but he knows you haven’t gotten off. 
so before he can completely come down from his high, juyeon resumes his thrusts. you feel his release spill every time he pulls out of you and it’s messy. a sloppy, wet noise sounds every time his balls slap against your cum coated cunt. 
juyeon is surely overstimulated. you can tell by the babbles of him begging you to cum and the rolling of his eyes and the whimpers and mewls that are driving you absolutely feral underneath him. 
you don’t last much longer after that, body jolting as you feel the tightrope in the pit of your tummy snap. your walls envelope his cock into a tight hug as you completely release over him. you cry with his name dying on your tongue, the earth-shattering orgasm washing over you. 
he has to force himself to stop fucking you. tears brim in his eyes right before he collapses on top of you, his cock slipping out of your worn pussy. every nerve ending in his body feels like they’ve been electrified and he can’t help but twitch and pant on top of you. 
you grunt with his weight on you, “juyo, you okay?” you ask breathily. 
“mmm,” he moans in response. he’s fine.
you smile, running your hands through his hair. “you’re gonna let me go back to work now, right? i gave you your fix, so you should be good for at least another two hours. i should be done before then, though.”
he groans, “i dont want you to work.”
“i know you don’t–”
“so stay here with me.”
you huff, “how many times do i have to let you fuck me before you’ll let me work?”
he pulls up and smiles cheekily at you, eyes still a bit dazed. “maybe… three times. or four.”
you scoff, “you are such a piece of work.”
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© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.
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quitesins · 2 years
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Katsuki Catching you on the Sims
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Masterlist
Tags: Sfw, suggestive, fem!reader, friends to lovers, short drabble, no edit just vibes
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“Is…is that us?” The voice startles you and you immediately go to cover your screen, embarrassment hitting you like a truck.
“What- no- Kats’ what-” You scramble out the words, snapping your head to the side.
“Oh it fucking is, isn’t it?” You can hear the smirk, Katsuki shoving you lightly to the side and taking seat. “Go on, show me.”
You shake your head harshly, still clutching the laptop, not making any moves to close the game.
“Nah, I wanna see.” Katsuki can be stubborn and you know you aren’t going to get out of this one.
“Fine…” You whisper out, reluctantly slipping your hands down and finding the mouse pad.
God, it’s embarrassing.
You can’t even try to hide the resemblance between the character of your game and the man beside you. His name is in bright capital letters, admitting your lies for you.
“Huh, it really is me.” Katsuki muses, eyeing his Sims counterpart. “Got my skull shirt and all.”
The sim in question walks around the screen, throughout a large but homely house. The two of you watch it for a moment, when suddenly a notification pops up. Oh no.
“This sim is feeling…” Katsuki starts to read, and you wish for the ground to swallow you. “Flirty?”
You don’t even want to look at the screen anymore, but Katsuki does, following along the character as the camera pans. Soon another sim is in view. One that’s evidently you. And before you can even attempt to pause the game, divert the character away or even throw the laptop off you, there goes Katsuki’s sim, pulling yours into a kiss. A grand, dramatic, and undeniably salacious kiss.
Not a word is said. All you can hear is your own heart beating tremendously. You wonder if he can hear it. Then, abruptly and loud, Katsuki laughs.
A genuine- from the belly- laugh. He doesn’t stop, even when you shake him in protest, whining that he’s being a prick. There’s tears in his eyes, his head is tilted back and his hands rest on yours as they jab at him lightly. If you weren’t so flustered you’d probably appreciate the rare display of unrestrained joy.
“Shut the fuck up! Katsuki!” The laptop is pushed off you by now, and you’re practically atop of the man, shaking him to stop.
His laughter starts to taper but with a chuckle still in his voice, he says. “You’re an idiot, y’know that?”
Katsuki doesn’t give you a moment to take in the words, already pulling you to him, clutching your face in his hands and kissing you.
One grand, dramatic, and undeniably salacious kiss.
It surprises you for a second, but then you melt, almost asking for more. You’re on his lap, by your own movements and his. Nothing on your mind but the feeling of his lips against yours.
When the two of you finally pull apart, you can see how he blushes, how his chest falls and rises. Just like you- he’s in his own fluster.
“Could’ve just asked.” He breathes, the two of you calming. “I’d give you anything from that shitty game.”
The hint of jealousy makes you giggle, resting your head on his shoulder. “Even the multi-billion dollar house I designed?”
You can tell he rolls his eyes, but his voice is soft and full of love.
“Yeah, even the fuckin’ world.”
-
“Holy fuck [Name], do we have kids in this shit?”
“KATSUKI!! STOP LOOKING!!!”
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I’m currently trying to re-download sims because the last I played was when I was 16 and I miss it! Bout to make my whole genshin team and start a fight club 💪
Edit: this is getting loads of reblog comment thingies and I really want to say thank u!!! But IDK HOW TO REPLY??? THIS APP IS SO HARD TO USE???!??
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sainns · 10 days
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DROP THE ALBUM!ㅤ⊹ㅤPSH SMAU
PROLOGUE the breakup and afterwards
note i lied this did not come out at 330 im impatient and uhh he kinda did u dirty i apologize but yn is maybe a little dramatic IDK
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“i think we should break up, yn,”
you blink, lifting your head up from where it was resting on his chest. your sudden movement knocks the laptop off of sunghoon’s lap, the movie you were watching continuing to play in the background as you stare at him.
“what? wait—are you serious?”
he sighs, running a hair through his messy hair, “yeah, i am,”
“that’s so random. we’re literally cuddling in your bed right now, sunghoon,”
you shouldn’t be getting angry with him, if he wants to break up then he’s allowed to—even if it hurts you more than anything. it just doesn’t make any sense as to why he wants to.
you can’t wrap your head around it, as far you know—or knew—you were perfectly fine. you’ve been together for three years, so obviously you’ve fought but it’s not like they were big fights. everything in your relationship was good. at least you thought it was, sunghoon didn’t apparently.
“i don’t know... i was just thinking, you know?”
you stare at him blankly because no, you didn’t know. you don’t get what’s going on at all.
you can see discomfort makes its way onto sunghoon’s face, his hand coming up to rub his neck awkwardly, “we should take a break,”
“a break or break up?” you ask, “they’re different things,”
you fully move away from him, pulling your legs from out of the covers, sitting as far away from him as you can. you stare at the floor as you wait for his response. he’s silent for too long and you can feel your heart sink to your stomach.
“break up, i guess. we can still be friends, though,” he reaches forward to grab your hand but you pull away, “i don’t want to lose you, yn,”
there’s a lot of things you want to say to say to him; that you can’t be friends, that he’s stupid for thinking that you would be fine with it. you want to tell him that you’re mad at him beyond belief for doing this out of nowhere. he could’ve at least broken up with you when you weren’t laying in his bed. 
you don’t say any of these things, though. instead you nod, giving him a forced smile, “okay. if that’s what you want,”
“i’m really—”
you interrupt him before he can give you that dreaded apology, “i’m gonna go, i probably shouldn’t stay the night like we planned,”
you crawl out of bed, your feet landing on his carpeted floor. your back is to him and you hope and pray that he can’t hear the sharp breath slip from your mouth, keeping yourself from bursting out sobbing. you blink quickly, forcing your tears away and move around his room to grab your things.
“you don’t have to leave, it’s late,”
“it’s fine, hoon,” it’s not fine, “night,”
“okay.. text me when you get home?”
“yeah, sure.”
sunghoon is an idiot.
he's an idiot that you’re still friends with.
it’s been five months since the breakup and you’re still friends. you don’t want to be friends, but your desire to keep him in your life overpowers that. giselle and winter have both been telling you to move on, to cut him out of your life.
every single one of your friends can see how awful this is for you, especially with sunghoon still acting like he’s your boyfriend. it’s like nothing has changed between you two if you ignore the fact that you aren’t officially together anymore.
he even goes as far as to tell you about girls that he finds attractive. does he not know not to tell you stuff like? he doesn’t. he doesn’t get how horrible and heartbreaking it is for you to hear. having to sit there and hear him call other girls pretty is worse than anything you’ve ever had to experience, you think.
so after urging from both giselle and winter, you ghost him on the sixth month after your breakup. you don’t go to any of your previously planned hangouts (you give him some half-assed excuse about being ‘too busy’ when really you were just staying home and eating ice cream), you stop responding to his messages and eventually he stops sending them.
and you write about it.
you’ve written songs about him before, as embarrassing as it is to admit, but it’s how you express your feelings. the only difference is that they were love songs; songs about you pining over the boy, how you felt during your relationship, all of the good things about him. you’ve never written anything bad, not even during your first big argument.
you admittedly feel better after you’ve written everything down, but you also feel.. guilty. it’s like you’re making it a bigger deal than it is. it’s not like he cheated on you or neglected you or whatever other awful thing other songwriters have written about. he just broke up with you and tried to stay friends.
you eventually get over that guilt, thankfully. you know that you’re allowed to be upset and it’s not like he’s ever going to hear it. you’re sure he’s forgotten all about you already. maybe he even has a new girlfriend.
you try not to throw up at that thought.
you end up making a demo, send it to your agency, and it gets produced. after a month of promotion and teasers, it releases on the ninth of april. exactly one year after your break up. it blows up, much to your surprise—you weren’t necessarily a big artist but you weren’t super small, having around 840k monthly listeners but you weren’t expecting to make the billboard hot 100.
honestly, you should’ve expected sunghoon to find out about the song, but you weren’t. and needless to say, you were absolutely horrified when he sent you a message for the first time in half a year.
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totheblood · 1 year
Text
true blue. (two)
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pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader
summary: both ellie and reader are u-haul lesbians and there is a jump scare
warnings: SMUT! suggestive themes, drug/alcohol usage, cursing, descriptions of abusive behavior (neither ellie or reader engages in these behaviors)
a/n: this chapter... idk it has me giggling and blushing.
read part one here!
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Ellie felt like throwing up.
After finding out about your history with Cat, she decided that it would be best to only talk about the project with you. She knew she came off cold, but for some reason she didn’t care. When it came to Cat, Ellie almost always shut down, and when it came to the idea that Cat may have also stuck her tongue down your throat, Ellie felt physically sick. A part of her felt bad about having feelings for you, but another part of her was deeply disturbed by the fact that you were into Cat. She also didn’t like that you still had the photo up on your Instagram.
A part of her also knew that she was being dramatic, but the less rational side of her was winning over at the moment. She found herself ranting to Dina about it almost 5 times a week, or everytime they smoked together. At about three hits in, Ellie was already ranting about you and your pretty hair and your pretty lips and how they were tainted by Cat. Like clockwork Dina would roll her eyes, rip the joint from Ellie’s hand, and diffuse it in the ashtray they made at Color Me Mine. 
“You need to get over this, man.” 
“I’m trying.”
So here Ellie sat, writing the second part of the project in your dorm and refusing to make eye contact with you. You almost instantly noticed an immediate shift in Ellie’s demeanor when it changed weeks ago, but you were at your breaking point. At this point it almost seemed that anything you did would annoy her, or whenever you spoke she would act shocked as if she forgot you were there. Not only was it extremely aggravating, but it was also getting in the way of the quality of your project.
“Did I do something?” You questioned, breaking the silence Ellie was enjoying causing her eyes to shoot up to yours. Yeah, you fucked my-
“No.” She grumbled as she continued writing. 
“Are you sure? Because the first day I thought we got along really well, and sometimes I just say everything that’s on my mind and I don’t realize I’m doing anything wrong until well-” You gestured to her with an almost panicked look on your face. “This.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just tired is all.” Ellie mumbled as she went back to her work, pretending to not pay you any mind. All you could do at this moment was roll your eyes and try to get back to work without anxiety overcoming you. 
“You’re just like my fucking ex.” You mumbled under your breath as well.
“What?” Ellie snapped her head up at you, unsure if she heard you correctly. Because if she had heard you correctly, you were comparing her to Cat.
“Nothing.” You shook your head, this time it was your turn to avoid eye contact with her. 
“No, you had something to say so say it.” She continued, her voice rough. This time you looked directly in her eyes, something behind them she just couldn’t place. 
“I said, ‘you’re just like my ex’. Happy?” You gave her your best fake smile and went back to your work. It had never occurred to Ellie that maybe you hated Cat as much as she did. The difference between you and her, however, was that she would never keep up a photo of her making out with Cat for over a year.
“What does that mean?” She snapped with an almost immediate need to defend herself. 
“It means that things were nice at first until you started being an asshole with no real explanation of what I have done.” You answered simply, shrugging your shoulders. 
“I didn’t do that.” Ellie lied.
“You totally did!” You protested. “We were vibing, you were like telling me about your life and I was telling you about mine and you were fucking laughing. Now, you don’t even crack a smile.”
“I smi-”
“You do not, Ellie!” You took a deep breath before starting again. “I thought we were going to be friends. I wanted to be friends. You’re funny and hot, but you’re being a real bitch right now and I don’t like that. I’ve done it before and I really don’t have the heart in me to do it again.”
Ellie blinked at you a few times, the guilt from giving you the cold shoulder finally setting in. A part of her really wanted to blush at the compliments thrown her way, but she was overwhelmed by the idea that her behavior was mirroring Cat’s. You really were an innocent party in all of this and she took her frustrations out on you, the cute pen dealer. 
“I’m sorry. I’ve just been going through a tough time.” She lied, not wanting to reveal that the person you’re comparing her too right now is the reason she’s been acting this way. “ I know what that’s like, my ex was like that too and I didn’t mean to do that to you.” 
She saw your hard exterior falter at her sentiment and the guilt inside Ellie began to build again. 
“I had no idea, Ellie, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to push but if you ever want to talk about what’s going on, I am here.” You seemed completely genuine and that tore Ellie’s heart to bits. In an attempt to be kind you reached out and placed your hand on Ellie’s forearm again, right over the tattoo. “Plus, he didn’t deserve you.”
Ellie couldn’t help but snort at the comment, earning a confused look from you. 
“She.” Ellie laughed. “She didn’t deserve me.” 
You covered your hands with your face laughing at your own heteronormativity. 
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” You apologized, moving your hands from your face to stare at her freckled own trying not to burst out laughing again. 
“You really couldn’t tell?” Ellie teased, gesturing to her forearm tattoo, earning a giggle from you and a red face from her.
“I mean, I didn’t want to get ahead of myself.” You teased back. “She’s smart, she’s funny, and she likes girls? Nuh-uh, too good to be true.”
As funny as the situation was, Ellie felt a deep warmth at your words. She wanted to believe you were flirting with her, but as of two minutes ago you had thought she was straight. 
“Good with her fingers too. The whole package.” She added, a dimly lit fire behind her eyes. 
“Oh yeah?” You feigned surprise. “I wouldn’t know. She should show me.” You leaned forward, pushing your laptop to the side table and getting dangerously close to Ellie.
Ellie almost choked on her own spit as you leaned closer. She eyed you up and down, her eyes lingering a little bit longer on the space between shirt and skin where she could see your cleavage poking through.  
Without hesitation, Ellie threw her notebook to the side, leaned in and captured your lips with hers. You reciprocated immediately, your tongue trying to fight it’s way into her mouth. She parted her lips for you causing a moan to slip out of your mouth into hers. Fuck fuck fuck fuck, Ellie’s mind was racing. What the fuck was she doing, she thought. Not even an hour ago she was barely talking to you and now the sounds that were coming out of your mouth were about to make her come undone. Her hands wandered down your body, tracing the curves of your hips before slipping under your shirt. The feeling of her warm hands on your skin sent shivers down your spine.
Again, you moaned softly into her mouth as she teased your nipples, rolling them between her fingers. Breaking the kiss, Ellie moved her lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. Your hand moved to caress her hair, grabbing it lightly. She gently moved you backwards on your bed, never stopping her assault on your neck, not wanting your whines to stop. She was going to lose her fucking mind. As she worked her way down, her hand slipped into your pants, finding its way to your wet center. She began circling her fingers in what felt like slow motion as she peppered kisses along your collarbone.
“Ellie..” you moaned, causing her to look up at you. The minute she did, you pulled her head upwards, attaching your lips to hers once again. Ellie felt like she was fucking floating, but her movement never stopped. As she picked up her pace she reveled in how you were squirming beneath her. She made a mental note to remember this moment for later.
With practiced ease, Ellie slipped a finger inside you, eliciting a gasp from your lips and causing you to separate from her. She pumped in and out, curling her finger just right to hit the gummy spot inside and making you scream out her name one more time. “You’re doing so fucking good.” Ellie soothed, pressing a kiss to your neck. You writhed against her hand, your hips bucking in rhythm with her movements.
As your pleasure built to a crescendo, Ellie added a second finger, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Finally, you couldn't take it anymore and you came hard, your body shaking with pleasure.
Ellie pulled her hand out of your pants, licking her fingers clean with a satisfied smirk on her face. Your body relaxed into the bed as you tried to catch your breath. She sat back up, nearly panting, but still soaking wet.
“Well, that was quite the show,” you managed to say between gasps. Ellie grinned and leaned in for another kiss before sitting back on her knees. “Looks like you'll have to show me what you've got too, baby." 
-
E: I FUCKED HER.
D: WHAT????
D:.. who?
D: if it’s cat i’m going to go to wherever you are and break your rib. 
E: Not Cat. 
D: YOU DIDN’T.
D: cute project partner?
E: Yes.
D: it’s giving u-haul lesbian
E: It’s giving best sex of my life.
D: really??
E: REALLY. And I did all the work.
D: you are a freak
E: She’s so fucking hot… I don’t know what to do with myself. 
E: I can’t do this project with her, I’m just gonna think about finger fucking her the whole time.
E: I miss her.
D: oh my god
D: get a grip
E: I’m TRYING.*(@HFh3uq9)(U
D:...
D: anyways.
D: are you coming to the party tonight?
E: I will be there.
Later that night Ellie found herself tucked into a sweaty frat party. Dina and Jesse really wanted to go and Ellie was still somewhat disoriented from her morning with you so she thought there was no better place to sober up. She was nursing a red cup with a brown colored liquid inside when she almost keeled over at the sight in front of her. There you stood in an impossibly tight dress, throwing back the very same gross drink Ellie had in her cup. Ellie looked around for any sight of Dina or Jesse but assumed they had found a quiet spot to make out and grind on each other for the rest of the night
She watched from the wall as you threw your hands in the air and started dancing to the very loud music with your friends. You were obviously drunk, but it was still nice to see the carefree side of you that she wasn’t able to see in the classroom. In your dorm room, however-
“Ellie!” You screamed across the dimly lit room, stumbling towards her and bringing her in for a tight hug. Ellie tried to say your name as enthusiastically as you had hers, but her voice got lost as you pressed your body up against hers. 
“What are you doing here?” You asked, the giddiness in your voice shining through. You were standing ridiculously close to her with your hand on the wall behind her, right above her head. You were smiling as wide as you possibly could and Ellie couldn’t help the smile on her face that grew each moment she was in your presence.
“Looking for you, obviously.” She teased, eyeing you up and down causing you to giggle into the crook of your neck. Her hand moved up to pinch at your waist, her eyes now steady on yours. 
“Aw, look who’s all confident after fucking me.” Your smirk, coupled with the already free flowing alcohol in her system, caused her to laugh. “We’ll see how confident you are after my turn.” 
Ellie swore you were going to kiss her, and you almost had if it wasn’t for your name being called behind you by your friends who gestured at you to come. You turned to look at them and nodded before you turned back to Ellie. 
“We’re going to another party? Want to come with?” You asked, hoping you didn’t sound as desperate as you felt. 
Ellie sighed, looking around the room for Dina but seeing no sight of her. What Ellie did know was that Dina wouldn’t leave the house without her, and it was an unspoken rule that she would never leave the party without Dina. She wanted to leave with you, but girlcode takes priority.
“I can’t.” She responded. “I’m with friends and I can’t leave them.” Ellie hates to admit this, but she took great pride at the sight of your face falling. 
“Oh well, see you Monday.” You somberly replied, waving goodbye and running to join your friends. 
“See you Monday.” Ellie said under her breath, practically to herself as you were already out of sight.
Ellie found herself upstairs after that, searching for Dina and Jesse so she could go home. However, she found someone she wasn’t looking for, or rather, they found her.
A cold hand tapped Ellie’s shoulder, causing her to turn around in relief that Dina had found her.
“Dina, thank go-” Her words got caught in her throat as she saw her ex standing in front of her with a sickly sweet smile on her face. 
“Ellie! So good to see you, I see the tattoo is healing?” She began, ignoring the dirty look Ellie was throwing her way. 
“What do you want, Cat?” Ellie spat. It was evident that Cat wasn’t being nice, and Ellie wanted her to get to the point. 
“Well, I just wanted to say how cute it was that you would flirt with my ex to make me jealous.” She disclosed, the smile on her face strong.
“I wasn’t trying to ma-” 
“It worked, I’m jealous.” She simply stated, moving closer to Ellie. Ellie was frozen, never in a million years would she ever think that Cat would be saying any of this. She leaned in close to whisper in Ellie’s ear. 
“Swing by my dorm room tomorrow, my roommates are gone for the weekend.” She pulled away from Ellie, smiled again, and patted her on the chest before walking away back into the party. 
And to be completely honest, Ellie wasn’t sure what she was going to do.
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clownd1ck · 3 months
Text
trouble, j. miller | chapter two
mob!joel miller x fem!reader
chapter summary: your first shift at apocalypse lives up to the standards that you hoped for, and you work your charm on everyone there. money and validation never hurt anyone, and you definitely didn’t mind it.
chapter warnings: alcohol consumption, food consumption, uh oh curse words, joel miller being a “power to the people, stick it to the man” man (we believe in that over on this blog), reader & dancers shake ass bc they can, google translated spanish 😍, no beta again, AND DID SOMEONE SAY JAVIER PEÑA!?
word count: 2274
also can u guys start asking me to be on this taglist by either bribing me or threatening me idk i think i’d just like to see “add me to your taglist or i’m gonna be under your bed at 9:03pm”
(series masterlist)
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when you step outside of the changing room, you head over to the snack drawers. you may have eaten before you arrived, but turning down free food was a sin in your eyes. you settle on a pack of hot cheetos and some trolli candy before sitting in a high chair and allowing lucy to do your makeup.
lucy was a lovely woman. she told you the basics about her, how she’s trying to save money so she can buy her first apartment, the name of her cat, etc. and, jesus christ, lucy was good at make up. her shade match was amazing, the blush and contour sculpted your face well. the eye make up was a smoked out black wing, with purple eye glitter on your eyelids. your lips were glossy, pouty, and fucking sexy, if you did say so yourself.
“lucy, i want you to know that if you ever decide to dump your boyfriend, i will be right here waiting for you.” you take another look at yourself in the mirror. “i look so hot i want to fuck myself.”
lucy giggles, and the two of you join adele, who runs you through everything you need to know. when she gets to the hourly pay and tips, your mouth drops in shock. “damn, didn’t realise joel was such a socialist.”
adele and lucy laugh. “baby, he pays everyone here good.”
lucy nods. “dancers get their money from customers and an hourly pay too. he treats us all good, it’s why we all like working here so much.”
you get to know some of the women whilst you’re there. you dance with them, they teach you some moves that are part of their routines, you sing with them. in all honesty, a lot of time hadn’t passed and you felt like you would defend these women with your life.
a knock sounds on the door, and adele opens it to find joel standing there. he beckons you with his hand outstretched. you give your goodbyes to the girls, dramatic as ever but you would miss this moment between you all, even if they did say you could drop by this room any time you want like the other female waiting staff did.
you join joel’s side, his hand going onto your lower back again as he guides you to another room.
“kitchen. head chef is joey,” he points to an elder man with black hair and a slight stubble. he seems mean…you’ll fix that. “that’s quinn,” he points to a woman with blonde hair, “and that’s tim.” you look at tim. tim looks stoned. you think about joining tim to get high on your next shift.
“hi everyone!” you wave at them giddily.
“some guests like food whilst they’re here, ‘s why we have the kitchen. ask for something for yourself and they’ll whip it up for ya’ too.” joel checks his watch, and you don’t know much about watches, but it looks expensive and you unconsciously gulp. he’s rich, damn.
“i’ll take ya’ back up to my office so we can go over some stuff before we open.”
when you get to his office, joel offers for you to take a seat across from his. his chair, however, spins, and you’re much more fascinated by that instead of the boring sofa. you take a seat on the rotating chair and begin to spin on it. joel sighs, shaking his head like he was surprised by your behaviour thus far.
“need to go over the shifts you can do. now, i don’t want ya’ overworkin’ yourself or being too tired for your damn lectures. so tell me what shifts you can do for now, and we can go over the rest later.”
you stop your spinning and look up at him. “i can do weekend shifts at any time. um…i have a nine am lecture on tuesday and thursday. wednesdays i don’t have a lecture until three, and mondays and friday i can work after five.”
“alright, give me your number so i can arrange your shifts. you get paid in cash every week and you’ll collect it from my office at the end of the night.”
you smirk, lifting your index finger up to your lips and biting down on the tip. “my number? joel miller, you flirt! take me to dinner first, please.”
he says your name sternly, a warning. “give me your damn number and get outta here. damn trouble, you are.”
you giggle, writing down your number on a piece of paper and giving it to him, and taking an ipad that carries the menu on it, sauntering out of his office and heading back to the dancer’s room.
——
at nine pm, the club doors open and you have your first group sat in one of the v.i.p. booths. a woman orders a sex on the beach, and the other orders a martini. you take the order down to the bar to gather the drinks and meet the bartender.
he introduced himself as javier, shaking your hand and kissing it gently, making you giggle. you knew you were going to get along with him very well.
as you wait for the drinks, one of the dancers comes over and talks to you. chelsea, her name is. a real blonde bombshell who you think would’ve been amazing in the barbie movie. she’s got a bubbly personality and a cute laugh. she tells you that she attends the same college as you, studying chemistry and physics.
you’re cut off when javier places your drinks on a tray and passes it to you. you give a little wave to chelsea as she is called to a booth to entertain the men.
“don’t be a stranger, mi amor.” javier calls out to you, and you giggle.
“and miss out on you? never!” you shout over your shoulder.
as you walk through the v.i.p. floor, you spot some of the girls and give your greetings to them, winking and grinning as they walk by. you make it back to the table and place the drinks down in front of the two women, and you gasp at them both.
“i just noticed your make up, holy shit! you girls are stunning.” your customer service skills deserves an award, and you’re forever thankful that you’re a massive extrovert and can get away with half the shit that comes out of your mouth.
the girls give their thanks to you, complimenting you back and you shrug them off. you were getting tipped tonight whether they liked it or not. you were hellbent on winning everyone over.
it’s when you’re putting in an eighth round of drinks that you feel a hand on your lower back yet again. you turn your head to see joel, looking down at you.
“need you in booth five.”
“alright, just gotta get these drinks from javi and some orders from the kitchen and i’ll be with you.” you smile at him, and joel walks away back to the booth.
you take your drinks from javi, and he doesn’t forget to give you some pet names in spanish you’ll be sure to google later, and you head back to one of the private rooms. you see a woman by the name of destiny dancing on a small stage with a pole as you give the men their drinks. she winks at you and you return it.
you place the drinks down in front of the men, taking your tray as you lean down and whisper to the closest one to you. “i’ll be back with your food, sir.”
and you return within five minutes, having won over the entire kitchen staff with your undeniable charm. you arrive with two large plates of nachos that the three men share between themselves. one of them slips you a hundred dollar bill, and you blow a kiss his way as you leave the private room.
men were too easy sometimes.
you enter the soundproof glass door of booth five, stepping in and pulling out your tablet. “any drinks i can get for you guys?”
a bald headed man orders a jack and coke, one with a skin fade orders a budweiser and you had to do a subtle double take on him because men in their thirties have skin fades? huh, you learn something new everyday. you look at joel and he shakes his head. “i’m alright, darlin’.”
you smile at him, placing the orders through on the tablet. “i’ll be back soon. let me know if you need anything else.”
as you walk up to the bar, you smile at javi. “oh, my beautiful husband. how i’ve missed you.”
javi looks at you and smirks. “ah, mi pequeña esposa, you’re back. what drinks do you need?” {my little wife}
“jack and coke and a budweiser.” you respond, resting your arms flat on the bartop and placing your head on it as you watch jack make the drinks, your tablet sat right next to you. “javi, what’s the weirdest drink you’ve had someone order?”
“bloody mary with passion fruit liquor.” he grimaces, as do you. what kind of sick fucks were drinking bloody mary’s anyway? and you can make a bloody mary worse? ew.
“i wanna see a drink named after me on this menu one day.” you take the drinks from him as he chuckles.
walking back to the booth, you balance the tray on one hand whilst the other opens the glass door. you place the drinks down in front of the two men, giving them sultry looks as you do.
you were going home with benjamin franklin tonight. you were determined.
as you stand back up and move closer to joel’s seat, you could feel his eyes on you, and when you looked at him, he seemed to be hiding back a smirk, picking up on your games. and it works, as both men slip you a few hundred dollar bills that you tuck under the strap of your bra to stash away later.
“anything else i can get for you gentleman tonight?” when they respond with a ‘no’, you feel a light tap on your thigh. brown eyes meeting yours, he gestures for you to come closer, and you bend down so his mouth is next to your ear.
“little shit.” he whispers, and you chuckle, standing back up to your full height and leaving the booth.
the only time you return to joel’s booth is to take away cups and refill drinks. you don’t hear much of the conversation that happens because, quite frankly, you don’t care. the bald guy and the one with the skin fade keep slipping you bills and that’s enough to buy your silence and curiosity.
you return to some of the private rooms, getting drinks for guests and dancers, but during the final moments of your shift, you’re sat at the bar talking to javier. you learn that he’s been friends with joel since high school. they’re practically brothers, and although they weren’t related, they do look alike…
“shithead.” joel’s voice calls out, and you can only assume he’s referring to you due to the choice in nickname.
“that better be meant as an endearment or i will be snitching to my pops.” you say as you walk over, blowing javi a kiss as a means of goodbye. “he may be in his sixties but he can still put a crow bar to use.”
joel rolls his eyes and guides you back to the dancer’s room. you open the door halfway before he decides to speak: “wait around here for a bit and i’ll come get you. i’ll be taking you home so make sure you’ve got everything.”
you pout playfully. “well, aren’t you just a sweetheart.” and your words cause him to roll his eyes again.
“get in there, ya’ little shit.” and he gently pushes you in.
for the next two hours, you and the girls spend your time dancing to some 2000’s r&b. you and chelsea end up whining on each other, and you all collapse by the time ‘smack that’ has finished, giggling away among yourselves as adele is highly entertained by your energy.
a knock at the door sounds, and you can tell it’s joel. you grab the clothes you wore before your shift started, and when you open it, joel is stood there carrying your bag.
“ya’ got everything?”
“you sound like a divorced dad who has joint custody over his daughter. yes, i have everything.” joel sighs at your comment, rubbing the space between his eyebrows which causes you to giggle.
“bye guys!” you wave goodbye to everyone as you and joel leave the building. he unlocks his black porsche and you hop in the front, shivering slightly at how cold it was.
joel notices this, turning on the heated seats as he drives you home to your grandparents. when you’re outside your house, joel stops you from getting out. “i’ll text you your shifts. my number is strictly for work.”
“got it, text you whenever i want. bye joel!” you shout, running out of the car and unlocking your front door, heading straight to your bedroom so you can take off your make up and finally be comfortable.
you fail to notice how joel’s car doesn’t drive away until he sees you’ve entered the house, and that you safely got to your room when your bedroom light turns on. you don’t see how he smiled at your little comment, shaking his head as he drives away.
oh, you were trouble, alright.
____
a/n: reader tormenting joel and him just tolerating it is my ideal relationship
taglist (if you want to be added, pls let me know!! & if your name is in bold, i couldn’t find your account :()
@dugiioh @amyispxnk @skysmiller @alyhull @noisynightmarepoetry @elliaze @dendulinka6 @zliteraturehoe @atyourmerci @al33naaa @mermaidgirl30 @lulawantmula @nana90azevedo @endlessthxxghts @getitoutofmymind @you-taste-so-sweet @blazeflays @iveseenstrangerthings50 @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @aquanatalie @katw474 @ludwigxii-blog @eloquentdreamer @kyloispunk @txmentor @din-jarring @daddysmilf0123 @sofiparallel @dunkinzjm @runningmom94 @ashhlsstuff @moel-jiller @isimpforfictionalmen @drewharrisonwriter @stormseyer @rodriguez31 @elliesswearjar @vvitchesh3x @joeldjarin @untamedheart81 @ellishamae25 @pedropascalfan221 @mellymbee @pedritosgfreal @yassspose @casa-boiardi
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thecynthh · 4 months
Text
STARSTURNS - M.S
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summery - going out to a concert with one of y/n friends, a weird turn is taken when matt makes a move.
notes - SMUT, ROCKSTAR MATTY POOOOO, guys im a virgin idk how sex works MADE FOR MY GIRLY @ihrtchris love u girl hope the wait was worth it <3 NOT PROOFREAD
a/n - guys it looked longer than it is i promise
also the bolded parts during the concert means its the song lyrics, also i love this song
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the bustling noises of a busy kitchen fill my ears as i hear people shout and flames crackle. “so i think i'll have a sweet tea and a number 6 please.” i ask the waiter as she takes my order. 
“of course ma’am and for you?” cadence’s eyes swept over the whole menu again before speaking. 
“lemonade and a number 2 please!” the waiter nodded towards us and walked off to the kitchen. 
“hey are you busy tonight? i’m free and have nowhere to go, was hoping you knew about a party or something later.” i knew cay would know about any parties happening tonight, she was an epic journalist and worked for the editorial company i was at. 
“hm, come to think of it, no, i don’t think so. didn’t get an invite, i guess all the famous people are taking a break from being bitchy and petty.” i laugh at her statement about the rich and famous, we’ve met countless celebrities and models and almost all of them were like cay said, bitchy and petty. 
“come onnnn the one night i'm free from work and there’s nothing happening.” i drop my head dramatically on the table, careful not to hit the ketchup and mustard. 
“well….” cadence trailed off.
“well what???” i almost break my neck looking up at her. 
“i mean i saw a poster for this band, and they are playing at pacific square if you wanna go watch it, im down if you are.” cadence offered. 
“a concert? im not sure, i mean if the guys are cute” i joked. 
“ouh girl, i sure can tell you they are so hot.” she pulls out her phone looking through her photos. she taps on it and shows it to me. oh shit. they were really hot. 
the one thing that cay forgot to mention was that the band that was playing in our home town was starsturns. “WAIT! you mean starsturns is playing here??”
“okay, im convinced, i think i just found my husband.” i practically threw cay’s phone back to her, feeling a small piece of drool develop on the corner of my mouth looking at the drummer. 
“show starts at 8 i’ll be at your house with the uber.” cay says slipping her phone back into her pocket 
“holy shit i can’t believe we are going to see starsturns!!!” 
the ding of a bell goes off and we see the waiter sway towards us with our plates of food. i guess i have plans tonight. 
------------------------------
getting to the venue was a little troubling due to the death inducing trafic we were stuck in but cay is very much a hardass so when we did get to the venue she shoved her way to the front. 
“move your asses, two super fans over here!!!” cay’s enthusiasm scares people which lets us pass through sort of easily. 
being right at the rails that has to be only a metre away from the stage gets me riled up, we hear the curtains draw and and the stage lights get low. 
the sun just started to set and the neon flashes of their large stage lights flicker at the audience. the leader singer and lead guitarist chris looks behind him peering over his shoulder to the audience. the girls yelled and shouted, he was definitely a lady killer. 
chris began strumming his guitar in a steady pace as his brother nick, on the bass, keeps a steady beat emerging from the shadows. 
a slow rhythm on the drums begin to build up, slowly getting faster and with each tap of the snare the lights get brighter, and brighter. 
matt is revealed to the fans in such an epic way as the fans, including me and cadence goes crazy. 
the crash of matt’s cymbals begins their set list as their first song begins. 
time seemed to have lasted forever as they now have moved to a couple of slower songs that are more lyric focused. i throw my head back as i belt the lyrics living in pure harmony. this was my favourite song and i wanted to soak up every moment. 
chris noticed and waved a hand towards cadence and i letting security know to let us onto the stage. i shake cadence to snap her out of her little trance and yank her to the small stairs that lead up the stairs, a smile graces chris’ face as we run up to him. 
cay takes his hand as he spins her around, i stand back trying not to get hit by her long hair. i try to cover my mouth as i giggle a little seeing her have her moment with her favourite group member. i start skipping around the stage still keeping up with the song soon coming up to nick as he keeps his eyes on me as his bass still continues strumming. 
i lock eyes with matt, coming over to the back of his drum kit and wrapping my arms around his neck, 
“i dont wanna lose you now, 
im looking right at the other half of me” 
i sang my heart out as i hug matt while he kept his hand and foot trained on the instrument. he detaches the mic that was for his vocals and passes it to me, im a little shocked by his action but understand what he wants from me. 
i take the mic and start to sing. 
“show me how to fight for now,
and i tell you baby it was easy”
i felt alive. my idols and i sing this song with our hearts. i belt and add accents to my voice and really feel myself in the song. i bring the mic down to matt as we both sing into the mic as chris and matt begin to chant “you are, you are the love of my life” underneath my vocals letting me take the lead on the song. 
“you are my reflection, and all i see is you”
the song ends and i’m panting from using an excessive amount of air for singing and from prancing around. matt and my eyes never leave each other caught up in the moment. 
“give it up to y/n and cadence for singing this song with us!” chris yells into the mic. he holds up his signature rock n’ roll sign showing it to the fans, “thank you guys for coming out here tonight! love you all, have a good night!” with the last echo of his message to the fans the curtains move down and everything but the crowd lights turn off, still providing light for those going home. 
i hop down from matt’s little stage leaving the microphone i’ve been using on a table that was next to matt and meet up with cay at the front of the stage. 
cay was engaged in a conversation with nick and chris, talking to them like they’ve been friends since forever. 
“oh my gosh, thank you for letting us up on stage like that chris!” i knew cay was fangirling underneath her cool calm and collected front. 
don’t get me wrong, chris is very attractive, but simply not my type. i didn’t feel as strongly about him as i did with matt. 
“oh come on you guys are great singers! especially you y/n.” chris says as i walk over, i feel a wave of embarrassment wash over me with that compliment. 
“ah- thank you but it’s getting late, cay call an uber i’ll meet you by the gates in a second, just gotta run to the bathroom. 
i pat my pockets checking for my phone that wasn’t there. i make a quick run to matt checking his whole set up for it. when i pick it up i immediately get caught in someone’s hand. 
matt’s muscular hand grips my bare arm causing all my attention to look up to the man above me. “hey,” his voice is lower so his brothers don’t hear. “we are staying at a hotel tonight then sightseeing tomorrow, we’ll be in town for a night or two. we thought we’d visit our parents and take in the home town scene again before we travel again. was wondering if you wanted to come with me to our hotel.” 
“you can come to my house-“ i blurt out. “m-more privacy and it’s not that far from here or whatever your hotel is. i can get you back there just in time for your brothers to wake up…”
“ah, sounds like a plan, we just gotta take our equipment to our bus then i’ll meet you there, how does twelve sound?” he nods understanding my intentions. 
“uh yeah! sounds good, wait lemme give you my numb-“ 
“oh doll, don’t worry about that, gotta be a little careful with who you leave your phone around,” he winks as his grip on me loosens and falls. 
i almost ran out of the venue, finding cadence and the uber waiting outside on the street. “girl come on!” she waves me in letting the uber driver know where we were going. 
i close the door behind me gripping my hands very hard on my phone. cay rests and hand atop mine and looks at me with concern. “hey, what’s up?” 
“matt just- matt- matt invited me to their hotel.. but now we are meeting at my house at twelve.” my eyes are trained on the headrest in front of me. 
“YOU WHAT, HE- HE WHAT????” cay starts freaking out as much as i would’ve if i hadn’t been in such a state of shock. 
“yuuuup,” the uber slows down getting stopped close to my house. “i have his number in my phone, he said he was going to come when i text him my address.” i open my car door seeing as we’ve stopped right in front of my house. 
“all the details tomorrow morning at work !!” she yells as i exit the car, waving thank you to the driver from outside the car i walk to my house to finally freak out. 
WHAT THE FLYING FUCK was i doing?? no way am i about to have a one night stand with the drummer of sturnstars, one of my favourite bands  
i pull my phone out of my pocket to see a new contact that was put in named “hot drummer” with a new number. 
y/n 
you shared your location with “hot drummer”
hot drummer (matt s)
otw!
not too long after i hear the doorbell ring throughout my house and i quickly rush to my front door. taking a deep breath in and out i push down on the large handle seeing matt on the other side of the door. 
matt leans on the side of my door frame looking as delicious as ever. “hey” a smirk grows on his face as he scans my body. the black cropped long sleeve i was wearing was getting clawed at by my long done up nails. my skirt was barely covering my ass and showed a lot of my legs. 
he looked at me like i was his last meal. he launches himself off the door frame as i take him by the hand, leading him to my bedroom. 
he looks around at the posters on the wall, one including their old tour one. his finger glides across the arctic monkeys and slipknot ones. 
“so you're a fan?” he asks coming to sit next to me. 
“yeah you could say that, i’m not crazy tho, some girls are worse. if i’m being honest i didn’t even know you guys were coming here.” i say truthfully 
“so if i do this,” he leans and kisses me, sparks fly in my stomach. “you’ll be okay with it.” 
“and if this happens,” his hand undoes the clasp and zipper on my mini skirt, “you’ll be okay with it?” 
his lips touch mine as i help him moves my skirt down to the floor as i hold the hem of his shirt pulling to take it off. my long sleeve and bra meet the floor not too far after matt’s shirt. 
he manoeuvres on top of me now pressing his raging hard on top of my heat. “please matt,” i say in a whiny voice, feeling more anxious and excited. 
“please what princess?” he teases. 
“please fuck me,” my hand snakes to the nape of his neck as i pull him in for a kiss. his fingers clad with rings, slip into my panties as he makes cold contact with his thumb onto my clit, my eyes roll back feeling him circle around my hole before plunging in. 
“oh- god matt please don’t stop,” i moan feeling him pump in and out of me. a familiar knot builds and snaps quickly due to the constant stimulation. 
“mhh, come on babe, give it to me” i squeeze around his fingers hard before i cum all over his fingers. “good job baby, you did so well, you ready for me?” i nod frantically as he sticks his fingers into my mouth for me to taste myself, letting me such on his two fingers while he tugs on my panties making the small fabric keeping the whole thing together come unloose. 
he's quick to undo his cargo pants letting the baggy material fall, and he tugs down his boxers letting his length spring out. i 
“what the fuck, that is not going to fit in me?!?” he laughs at my surprise, pumping up and down on his monster dick. 
“hey, i’ll take it slow, tonights ‘bout you.” he says hovering over me, “just tell me if it’s too much, alright?” he lines himself up and just puts the tip in, i arch my back in ecstasy feeling so full already. 
“fuck, matt keep going.” he takes this as an invitation to push all the way in. my moans only become more airy as he gets deeper and deeper. 
he gets more confident in his movement and keeps a steady pace, he lifts my leg, folding it by my knee, letting him hit a new spot. 
“mhhh, matt don’t stop.” his pace is steady with him constantly hitting my g-spot, “i-i-”
i couldn’t even get my sentence out before i completely collapsed underneath his arms, letting myself go. “you did such a good job pretty girl, can i cum in you?” 
“YES, yes matt please!” a slight feeling of overstimulation washes over me as matt grunts and shoots his load into me, falling onto my bed next to me. 
“ah, come on, let's get cleaned up. nick and chris are gonna be wondering where i am.” 
who knew, maybe dating a drummer isn’t that bad. 
taglist - @westwiing13 @comet235 @mayhem-72 @pepsiimaxx @strniolosworld
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corroded-hellfire · 1 year
Note
I don’t have a great idea or prompt but your As You Wish Older!Eddie absolutely stopped me in my tracks and I think about him daily 😩 idk if you’d prefer a totally different universe to write older!eddie but I got thinking about As You Wish Eddie and just wondering what like a different night with him and reader maybe Pre-AYW where they’re a lil cuddly but shouldn’t be or post-AYW date night where things actually go well and it’s happy for them both and Eddie’s efforts are appreciated (looking at u Brittany 😒)
I swear, I didn't intend for this to be so long. Yet here we are. This is Pre-As You Wish. Thank you so much for this request! I love writing this little gang so much.
Words: 11.8k
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“But I want one,” Luke says with an overdramatic sigh. He flops back on the couch, arm dropping above his head, reminding you of a swooning Southern Belle. 
“You’re being silly,” you tell him, reaching down to ruffle his brown curls. “It’s not that I just said no, you can’t have one. There are literally no cupcakes in the whole house, kiddo.”
The five-year-old acts as if your words have wounded him, curling up himself and holding his chest with both hands as if he’s been stabbed. Where did he get this stuff?
“Will die without frosting!” Luke says weakly. You can’t help but laugh at his adorable antics as you kneel down near his head. There’s no doubt that he’s the most entertaining part of your job. 
“Oh no,” you say, copying his dramatics. “We’re going to lose Luke!”
Without opening his eyes, Luke gives his head a nod, letting his tongue loll out of his mouth. The front door opens and your heart soars, though there’s a brief flash of panic that it’s not the parent of the children that you want to see. When the sound of heavy boots being kicked off reaches your ears, you relax, but stay in character for your game with Luke. 
“Eddie, come quickly!” Your tone is teasing, and you throw him a smile over your shoulder to let him know that you’re only fooling around. Eddie’s smirk says he’s game to play along.
“What’s wrong with my boy?” Eddie says, faking a gasp and coming to kneel next to you at Luke’s side. 
“He says he’s dying from lack of cupcakes,” you say, placing your hand on your heart. 
“Frosting,” Luke grits out, making both you and Eddie hide snorts of laughter. 
“Right. From lack of frosting,” you amend. 
“It’s such a shame,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “If only he could hold on for two more days until his brother’s birthday.”
Luke pops open a bright blue eye, peeking at his father. “Oh yeah.”
“Oh yeah,” Eddie mimics his son’s voice, wrinkling up his nose. 
“What kind of cake?” Luke asks, abandoning his theatrical game and sitting up on the couch.
“I’ll tell you if you give me a hug,” Eddie offers, and Luke launches himself at his dad. Eddie laughs and presses a kiss to his temple. “Vanilla cake. Vanilla icing.”
“Strawberry’s better,” Luke says. 
“Then we’ll have that on your birthday,” Eddie says, mussing up the little boy’s hair before standing. “Where’s Ryan?”
“Taking a bath,” you say, standing up after him. “We finished his homework, and he said if he takes a bath now, he can read before bed instead.”
Eddie grins and shakes his head as he unzips the navy coveralls he’s wearing. Your eyes can’t help but trail his hands, rough and calloused from manual labor, pulling down the zipper so he can shrug his top half out of the garment. 
Luke gets bored now that none of the attention is on him, so he scurries to his room to find something to keep him occupied. 
“That kid,” Eddie says, his tone full of adoration for his oldest son. “I have no idea where he gets it. The brains, the books. Certainly not my genes.”
“Hey, you’re smart,” you argue with a pout. Eddie lets out a chuckle and walks to the kitchen, you hot on his heels. “I’m serious!”
“Sweetheart, I barely got out of high school. Can’t tell you the last time I read a book.”
“There are different types of intelligence, Eddie. I mean, last week! All I said to you was that my car was making a growling noise and within two minutes you knew what was wrong with it. Without even having to go outside and look at it. Jesus, I don’t even know the names for half the crap under the hood. And I guess I’ll just have to lend you a book, huh?”
Eddie smiles at you. A real, open face, full of teeth smile. You take a seat at the kitchen table, unsure if your wobbling knees would be able to hold you up after seeing that grin aimed at you. 
“You’re the best,” he says. A warmth tingles all over your body at his praise. “You wanna stay for dinner?”
The answer to that question depends on what time it is. When your eyes scan over to the clock hanging on the wall and see Brittany is due home in five minutes, that makes the decision for you. 
“Can’t,” you say, eyes sliding back to Eddie where he’s digging through the freezer. Probably in search of something to make. But you notice that he had been watching you, seeing you look over at the clock before answering. 
“Probably have a paper you need to finish,” Eddie says, giving you an out as he resumes his search. 
“Uh, yeah,” you say. But you still have those precious five minutes to be alone with Eddie and you don’t want to waste them. Your mind scrambles for something to talk to him about. “Should I bring Ryan’s present over tomorrow? Or do you want me to wait until Monday?”
Eddie’s brow pinches in a frown and he closes the freezer. “Why don’t you just bring it to the party?”
“His birthday party? Oh, I didn’t realize I was invited.”
Eddie stares at you incredulously. His jaw drops open and he lets out a laugh. “Of course you are. Britt never told you that?”
“No,” you say with a shrug.
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie groans and rubs a hand over his hair. His tongue pokes out to lick over his lips before he speaks again. “I know she told me she invited you. Because I said I’d do it, then she said she’d handle it.”
“Maybe she forgot?” You try to give her the benefit of the doubt, but Eddie knows better. He doesn’t want to get into it with you, though. Lord knows you don’t need to hear about his marriage issues.
“Well, you are invited. And don’t worry, it’s not going to just be a bunch of little kids. We’re having a barbecue out back, around the pool. Some old friends of mine, my uncle, Britt’s sister and her family, and then a handful of Ryan’s friends. You can bring someone if you want. Your sister, friend, boyfriend, whatever.” Yeah, he was fishing for information that shouldn’t affect him either way, but here he was. Is he proud of it? No. Is he going to stop? Probably not. He knows he’s too attached to you but he’s convinced it can all be a fantasy in his head and everything will be fine. At least that’s what he tells himself. 
“Yeah, I’m free Saturday,” you say. “Um, not sure if I’ll bring anyone. Probably not.” Your best friend, and roommate, knew about your feelings for Eddie, so that would just make you nervous she would accidentally spill the beans and ruin everything. There’s no way you were telling your sister about how you feel because she’d just tell you that you’re being stupid; that you’re a kid with a dumb crush. And maybe that’s true, but you didn’t need to hear it from her. 
Pushing yourself up from the table, you grab your bag from the counter and slip it on your shoulder. 
“See you tomorrow?” you ask.
“I’ll be here,” Eddie says, half of his mouth quirking up into a smile.
You shoot him one last smile over your shoulder before heading down the hallway to say goodbye to the kids.
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Fridays are the days you only have one class, which means you get to sleep in a little longer than usual. Except for today, when the phone on your bedside table jars you out of your slumber, the piercing shrill going right through you.
“Who the hell,” you grumble to yourself as you push yourself up onto your elbows. Reaching over, your fingers graze the receiver and tug it to your ear. The anger at being awoken dissipates when you hear the telltale sign of machinery and tools clanging. Even before your favorite voice in the world answers your greeting. “Hello?”
“Hey! Oh shit, did I wake you up?” Eddie asks. You debate lying, but the hoarseness in your voice would call your bluff. 
“Yeah, but it’s fine. My alarm was about to go off anyway.” That was a lie, but one he couldn’t catch you in. “What’s up? Boys okay? You okay?”
Both of you notice the lack of checking in on the last member of the family, but neither of you cares either. On his end of the phone, Eddie can’t help but grin to himself, trying to hide it from the other guys in the shop. First, your early morning voice was just about the cutest thing he’s ever heard, now your worry for him and the boys has his heart kicking up its pace. 
“Yeah, everyone’s fine,” Eddie says. “Just wanted to ask a favor of you, if you don’t mind.”
“Anything.” You could slap yourself for how eagerly you said it. For all you know he’s going to ask you to spend the day with Brittany, which might actually kill you. But who are you kidding? You’d do it if he asked. 
“Well,” Eddie says with a sigh. “Britt kind of dropped the ball. Again.”
It’s not a shock by any means. Squeezing your lips together, you internalize the sigh you so desperately want to let out and pinch the bridge of your nose. 
“She, uh, was supposed to pick up Ryan’s cake from the bakery after work today, but apparently,” Eddie pauses here to huff a humorless chuckle, “she forgot to ever order it. Do you think you can swing by the grocery store and get some vanilla cake mix and vanilla frosting? Ryan didn’t know, thank God, so he won’t be disappointed that it’ll have to be homemade. The kids will want to help with it but by the time I get home there won't be enough time to bake it, let it cool, and frost it before they have to go to bed.”
“Oh, Eddie, of course,” you say. The boys loved baking; you know that from experience. Together you’d made countless cookies and brownies. “Do you need me to grab anything else from the store?”
“No, no, that’s all. And I’ll give you the money for it when I get home, I swear.”
“Eddie,” you say with a chuckle. “It’s fine, I can buy birthday cake ingredients for one of my two favorite little dudes.” 
“Nope, you’re getting that money back,” Eddie says, and you just know there’s a smile on his face as he says it. You can practically hear it. 
“I see why Luke is so stubborn,” you say as you lay back on your pillow. Maybe if you close your eyes and tug your soft purple blanket up to your chin, you can pretend you’re being a normal girl having a conversation with the guy she’s head over heels for. Not a conversation about your job with your boss, who has a wife, and is over ten years older than you. Just Eddie. 
Eddie scoffs on the other end of the line, bringing a dopey grin to your face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says. “That kid is nothing like me.”
“Ha!” you bark out, making Eddie laugh, the sound like a shot of whiskey hitting your bloodstream. “Pretty sure Luke isn’t your son, he’s your clone.” Literally, the fact that the five-year-old has blue eyes is the only noticeable difference.
“Okay, okay,” Eddie concedes. “I guess I better get back to work before my boss charges me for half the phone bill.”
“Bosses, right? Such a pain in the ass.”
“Listen, you little smartass,” Eddie says through a laugh, a blushing smile making your own cheeks hurt. “I’ll quit my job right now and take yours.”
“Trade you,” you say, knowing he has to get back to work but not wanting to let him go. “I’ll fix the cars.”
“All right,” Eddie says. “Just tell me where the carburetor is located.” Wrinkling up your nose, you stay silent, only proving Eddie’s point. “Uh huh,” he says, voice sounding smug. “So, I’ll go replace the brakes on this Honda and you’ll go to class, hit the grocery store, and take care of two little monsters for a few hours, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say. “I’m clearly the winner here.”
“You are,” Eddie agrees. “Okay sweetheart, I’ll see you later.”
The term of endearment isn’t new. He’s called you that countless times, along with a variety of other nicknames. He’s probably even said it over the phone to you before, you’re not sure. But the part that’s currently giving you the feeling of pop rocks exploding in your stomach is that anyone who can hear him on the phone at work right now probably thinks he’s talking to his wife. Or girlfriend if they don’t know he’s married. But he said it to you. Something about it makes you feel giddy. 
“Bye, Eddie.”
“Bye,” Eddie drags out the word before the line goes dead. 
After starting your day off by talking to Eddie, you don’t feel the need for your usual cup of coffee. You’re already wide awake. The day seems to be better than a usual Friday, an extra pep in your step that you can only think of one explanation for. Class seemed more interesting, traffic didn’t seem as bad, even finding a parking spot at the notoriously crowded grocery store was easier. 
Strolling down the baking aisle to find the supplies you need, you hum along to the cheery pop tune playing over the store’s speakers. Your eyes scan over the shelves and snag on a box of vanilla cake mix. Dropping that into your basket, you search for the matching frosting. As you look at all the baking supplies in front of you, the sprinkles catch your eye. Which leads you to looking at the tubes of food gel that you can write on cakes with. Pursing your lips as you look it over, you shrug and think, what the hell? The sprinkles and food gel get added to the shopping basket. Now all you’re missing is the vanilla frosting. Which you discover was right in front of your face the whole time, making you roll your eyes at yourself as you snatch it off the shelf. Purposefully keeping the grocery bag in the backseat, and not in the trunk, your next stop is to pick up the munchkins from school. 
The pickup line at the elementary school is long, but you don’t mind. It usually moves pretty quickly, and the radio station is currently playing Billy Joel. Eddie teases you all the time about your love for the singer of Piano Man, but he does at least admit that the man is talented. 
Two bright faces come up to the windows of your gold car, Ryan grinning and waving, and Luke hooking his pointer fingers into his mouth and pulling them wide while sticking his tongue at you. Leaning across the center console as much as you can with your seatbelt still on, squishing up your face and sticking your tongue out in turn. Luke giggles and opens the backseat, climbing in and over the bag to sit behind you. 
“What’s this?” Luke asks as Ryan climbs in behind him. 
“For Ryan’s birthday,” you say, smiling at him over your shoulder. “We’re making a cake when we get home.”
They both cheer as you pull away from the curb and towards the exit off of school property.
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Having baked with them before, you knew it could get crazy. Flour usually ends up all over the three of you and the floor. Eggshells seem to get in the batter no matter how much you try to avoid that. But making Ryan’s cake has them amped up to a whole new level.
“Luke, not yet!” You hold the bowl above his head so he can’t pour in the oil that’s not supposed to be added until after the eggs. Mixing a bowl that’s at eye level with you is a difficult task, you find. 
“I got the pans!” Ryan holds up the two round pans that will bake the layers of his cake.
“Perfect. Can you spray them?”
“With this?” Ryan asks, holding up the non-stick spray can.
“Yes, sir,” you tell him as you set the bowl down on the counter. “Okay, Luke. Now you can add the oil.”
Once the cake is in the oven, you clean up as best you can while the boys work on their homework at the kitchen table. You’re sweeping the powdery substance off the floor when Luke asks how you spell your name. Going slowly so he can focus and write it down, you tell him.
“Why?” you ask. “What’s it for?”
“Homework,” Luke states simply.
“What’s your homework about?” you ask.
“Gotta draw and write the names of my family.”
The broom stalls in your hands at his words. Quickly, you sweep up the debris and walk to look at Luke’s paper over his shoulder. There you are. All the way to the left of the paper, right next to Eddie. It goes, you, Eddie, Luke, Ryan, and Brittany. At the bottom there’s a brown blob. You’re not sure what it is, but your mind is a little occupied with the idea that Luke considers you part of the family. The pressure of warm tears presses behind your eyes, but you refuse to let them come any further. Not sure if he’d understand your affection through words, you bend down and press a few kisses to the top of his dark brown curls.
“What’s that?” you ask, pointing to the spot at the bottom of his paper. 
“My dog,” Luke says with a sigh.
“Is it invisible?” you ask, making a show of looking around the kitchen. 
“No,” Luke says with his boyish giggle. His little legs swing underneath the table since they’re too short to touch the ground. “The dog I want.”
“He needs a name too, you know,” you say, tapping at the blank space where the name should go. 
“She!” Luke looks up at you, frown pinching his adorable features. “I want a girl dog.”
“My apologies,” you say, bowing your head to the miniature Eddie. “She needs a name, then.” 
“Nala!”
“Like The Lion King?” you ask.
“Yes!”
Once you help Luke sound out the name so he can add it to his paper, you take a look and see how Ryan’s homework is coming along. 
“Look at you, whizzing through these math problems,” you say, ruffling his honey brown hair. “Little genius over here.”
He gives you a bashful smile and goes back to his work. The boys finish up just as the timer tells you that the cakes are done. Carefully removing them with the ugliest blue and brown checkered oven mitts you’ve ever seen, you place both round pans on top of the stove and turn off the oven. 
“Now the icing?” Luke asks.
“Not yet,” you say, slipping off the mitts. “They have to cool first. But do you wanna see what I bought to decorate them?”
Both little boys kneel on the chairs, laying the top half of their bodies on the table so they can watch you unpack the grocery bag. Luke’s eyes widen when he sees the can of frosting and you’re pretty sure there’s some drool forming in the corner of his mouth. The sprinkles make Ryan happy, his face lighting up and grabbing the jar. 
“So many colors,” he says as he turns the jar around, tilting the sprinkles so he can watch them slide from side to side. The last thing you unpack is the writing gel and neither kid seems to care.
“What is it?” Luke asks.
“You use it to write on the cake,” you say, flipping the box over and showing them the picture on the back. “We can write ‘Happy Birthday, Ryan!’ on it.”
“We can write anything?” There’s a mischievous glint in Luke’s eye that has you raising an eyebrow on him.
“What is it that you want to write?” you ask. 
“Butt,” Luke says, a throaty and immature laugh coming out of him. 
“No,” you say. “Maybe you can convince Daddy to let you write than when it’s your birthday cake.”
“That’s so far away!” Luke says, flopping back in his chair dramatically. 
“Are you coming to my party?” Ryan asks as he slides out of his seat.
“Sure am, buddy.” You pat the top of your head as he walks by you to get a drink from the fridge. “You excited?”
“Eh,” Ryan says with a shrug of his small shoulders.
“Eh? Why eh?” you ask, frowning at him.
“My cousins are gonna be there,” Ryan answers before taking a sip of water. “They’re mean.” 
“Just Sasha,” Luke says to his brother. “Nat and Dmitri are nice.”
“I guess,” Ryan says. 
“Are these Mom’s sister’s kids?” you ask, taking a seat at the table.
“Yeah,” Ryan says. He walks over and leans against you, so you wrap your arm around him and press a kiss to his forehead.
“But there’s gonna be lots of other people there,” you tell him. “It’s going to be so much fun!”
A small smile comes to Ryan’s face, and he nods his head. You’d personally keep this Sasha away from Ryan if you had to. He deserves to have fun at his birthday party, not worry about what some mean kid might say. 
“Okay,” you say, patting Ryan’s arm. “Who wants to play Hungry Hungry Hippos while we wait for the cake to cool?”
Of course they did, so that’s what you spend the next hour doing. The first time, you let them win. But after that, they were beating you just on their own pure speed. It looked like Luke was going to crack the back of the orange hippo.
Standing up once another round has finished, you walk over to the cake to see if it’s still too warm. It’s down to room temperature so you help the boys clean up the game before setting the decorating items on the kitchen table. 
There’s a stereo just on the other side of the wall of the kitchen, in the living room. Decorating calls for some music, you decide, so you open your purse and find the mixed tape that your friend made for you. Usually, mixed tapes are just that: a mixture. But this one was made up of only Billy Joel songs; your favorites all on one convenient tape. First making sure that the thin glossy material of the tape is all on the left side, showing it’s been rewound, you click the tape into place and press play. The opening notes play as you make your way back into the kitchen. 
What's the matter with the clothes I'm wearing?
Can't you tell that your tie's too wide?
Maybe I should buy some old tab collars?
Welcome back to the age of jive
Luke starts to dance in the middle of the kitchen, mostly consisting of head bobs and moving his shoulders back and forth, but it’s still cute. Keeping one eye on his theatrics, you bring the cakes over to the kitchen table and set each on a plate. The pop topped from the frosting, the gel tubes out of their box, and sprinkle jar ready to rock and roll, you put two plastic knives on the table for the boys to use. 
You're just scooping a large dollop on the top of each cake when the front doorknob jingles and all three of your heads turn in that direction. Eddie steps inside and tosses his keys down. He takes a step towards your direction but halts mid step as he sees the three of you looking at him.
“Hi?”
Luke slides down from his seat and runs to his dad, Eddie scooping him up effortlessly under his armpits and holding the little boy against his chest. 
“Daddyyyy!” he roars.
“Luuuuuke,” Eddie answers, deepening his voice to match the one Luke tried to use. Eddie’s head turns towards the stereo and then he looks at you, eyes narrowed and a smirk on his lips. “You’re subjecting my children to Billy Joel now?”
“They deserve to hear what good music sounds like,” you answer with your own smirk. Truthfully, you love the music that Eddie listens to, it’s just fun to mess with him. 
“Daddy, do you wanna help decorate?” Ryan asks, eyes wide with hope. Eddie could never say no to that face.
“Sure thing, buddy,” Eddie says as he sets Luke down. “Just let me get cleaned up and changed.”
As he heads down the hall, Luke climbs back onto his chair and starts to smooth the white icing around on the yellow cake. 
“More,” Luke says.
“I don’t think so,” you say, eyeing the cake in front of him. “That’s plenty. Just move it around more.”
He lets out a huff, sounding just like his father. 
“This good?” Ryan asks. His cake is completely covered on the top, now just the sides need to be done. 
“Good job,” you tell him. 
Eddie comes back into the kitchen, a pair of sweatpants hung low on his hips and a gray t-shirt, arm tattoos on full display for you to enjoy. There’s nothing inherently sexy about the clothes but seeing them on Eddie is making you feel hot all over. He takes a seat at the table, next to Ryan, and looks over the sprinkles and colored gel.
“You didn’t have to get all this,” Eddie says to you, but you just wave him off.
“I knew he’d like it and I was right.”
“Okay, seriously, how much do I owe you?” Eddie asks.
“Nothing,” you say with a laugh. “Keep your money and ice your son’s birthday cake.”
Eddie smirks and gives you a mocking salute before picking up a knife to help Ryan cover the sides. Once both cakes are sufficiently coated, Eddie stacks them, and you touch up any frosting that got messed up. 
The song on the stereo changes to Just the Way You Are and the slow melody has Luke closing his eyes and swaying in his seat, making you chuckle. Ryan picks up the sprinkles and makes them rain down, colored speckles brightening up the plain white dessert. 
Don't go trying some new fashion
Don't change the color of your hair, mmm
You always have my unspoken passion
Although I might not seem to care
Little fingers grab your hand and pull. Turning towards Luke, you see him trying to pull you over to the middle of the kitchen. 
“What?” you ask as you get up and go where he leads you. Once he gets you where he wants you, he keeps a hold of your hand in his and wraps his other arm around the back of your thighs, since it’s the only part of you he can really reach. He starts to sway back and forth, and it dawns on you that he’s trying to slow dance with you. The adoring grin on your face as you look down at the little boy has your cheeks hurting for the second time today. His big blue eyes return your gaze, his own smile just about the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. Luke quickly tires of the slowness, letting go of you and drifting back to the table to try his own hand at the sprinkles. 
“Hey!” you say, jutting your lower lip out at Luke for abandoning you on the dance floor. 
Ryan’s pouting next to him, where he’s still trying to get sprinkles to stick to the side of the cake.
“You can’t just leave her there!” Ryan says to his little brother. He looks down at his sticky little hands and then back to you. His mind must deduce that he can’t dance with you like this. Plus, he’s still working. “Daddy, you dance with her.”
Eddie’s eyes widen for a second as he looks at Ryan, but the look is quickly gone, replaced by that damn smile that drives you crazy. The man rises from his seat and takes a few steps over to you and you feel like your heart might actually explode. Is he really going to dance with you? This has to be a dream. 
Eddie extends his hand to you, which you don’t hesitate to take. He pulls you to him, causing you to giggle and a flush to move up your cheeks. One strong arm wraps around your waist and you think that this just might be the best moment of your life. His other hand, rough and calloused from years of manual labor, holds your smaller, softer hand. When you drape your other arm over his shoulder, hand so close yet so far from the curls at the base of his neck that you always want to play with, Eddie starts to sway back and forth with you. Feeling his body pressed against yours, arm wrapped around your body, hand holding yours, you begin to feel lightheaded. It’s because your breathing has sped up, you realize, and you have to manually take control of your lungs, telling them to inhale longer and exhale fully. 
A surprised giggle leaves your lips as Eddie lets go of your waist and twirls you around by your hand. He’s smiling when you turn back around to face him, his eyes bright and shining. 
I said I love you, that's forever
And this I promise from the heart, mmm
I couldn't love you any better
I love you just the way you are, right
The emotion of the lyrics as Eddie pulls your body back against his has you feeling like you’re underwater. Everything is in slow motion and sounds are garbled, but it’s perfect. You’re sure your skin is on fire and you’re not sure how Eddie isn’t scalding his hands on you. 
Eddie looks down at you as you dance, his dark brown eyes locked on yours, never looking away. Normally, you’d shrink from anyone looking at you this intently, but it’s Eddie. It feels flattering and warm and intimate in a way that you don’t know how to describe. There’s nothing wrong with what you’re doing. First you danced with Luke, then his dad, at Ryan’s insistence. It’s completely innocent. 
As the song comes to a close, Eddie dips you, grip tightening on you as you squeal at the surprise. He chuckles and pulls you back up to your feet. When he takes his hands off you, you feel suddenly cold. Like something is missing. Eddie bends at the waist, bowing to you, so you give him a curtsy in return.
“That’s how you dance with a lady,” Eddie says, giving a playful, barely-there smack on the back of Luke’s head. “Gonna have to teach you to be a gentleman, I see.”
Luke ignores him, finishing up his sprinkle job, but you think there are more sprinkles on Luke than the cake. Ryan hands you a red tube of writing gel, and Eddie a yellow. He has the green one gripped in his small hand.
“Okay, I want you to write ‘Happy,’” Ryan tells his dad before turning to you. “And I want you to write ‘Birthday.’ I’m gonna write my name.” 
Following his instructions, Eddie goes first. He takes his time, tongue poking out in concentration as the yellow gel slips out, curling into the letters weaved by Eddie’s hands in the air. When it’s your turn, you realize you have the longest word to write. As you’re halfway through, the song changes to Uptown Girl and a smile ticks onto your face.
“My favorite,” you say as you curl the H in birthday. It comes out looking pretty good if you do say so yourself. Ryan takes his time with his name as well. Glancing over to Eddie, you see he’s staring off into space, zoned out, mind far away. 
Uptown girl
You know I can't afford to buy her pearls
But maybe someday when my ship comes in
She'll understand what kind of guy I've been
And then I'll win
The beginnings of a smile twitch at one corner of Eddie’s mouth and you’d give anything to know what he’s thinking about so intently. 
“Done!” Ryan announces, breaking Eddie from his trance.
“It looks great, buddy,” Eddie says, patting his oldest son on the back. “Let’s put it in the fridge now.”
Ryan nods and Eddie’s careful in carrying the plate. You open the refrigerator door for him, and he slides it on the top shelf.
“There we go,” Eddie says as you close the fridge. He looks over and sees Luke covered in frosting, sprinkles, and somehow the gel, even though he didn’t touch it. “Luke, you need to go take a bath.”
The boy pouts but slides off the chair and walks down the hallway.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Luke!” you call before he can get into the bathroom.
“Okay! Bye!” he calls back. 
“Come on, Ry,” Eddie says. “Help me clean up.” Eddie grabs the sponge and groans, shooting you a playful glance. “Can't believe you made a mixtape of just Billy Joel.”
“I didn’t make it,” you say, grabbing the kitchen towel and swatting Eddie with it. “My friend Paul made it for me.”
“Oh?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow. Ryan takes the can of icing off the table along with the gel tubes, and Eddie runs the sponge over the green tiled table. “Paul, huh? You know, guys usually make mixtapes for girls they like.”
“Mm,” you hum, cheeks warming. “Love songs, I believe. And Paul’s majoring in music so he makes tapes for everyone.” 
Eddie’s tempted to tell you that you should have Paul introduce you to new music, but he can’t bring himself to suggest you spend time with another guy. A college guy, especially, your own age and who you probably hang out with. His grip tightens on the sponge, the water and suds squishing between his fingers. 
“Making a mess, Dad,” Ryan says with a giggle, poking at a bubble one of the suds produces. 
“Go wash up with your brother, okay?” Eddie says. Ryan stops in front of you and holds his arms out for a hug, which you eagerly return.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I can't wait.”
Ryan grins up at you when you release him from your arms. “Me neither! Bye.”
“Bye, sweetie,” you say, giving him a wave as he heads down the hallway. Towel still in your hands, you wipe down the table with it as Eddie puts the sponge back in the sink. The next Billy Joel tune is on and you’re humming it to yourself before you start to sing along.
Who knows how much further we'll go on
Maybe I'll be sorry when you're gone
I'll take my chances
I forgot how nice romance is
I haven't been there for the longest time
There’s a smile on your face as you sing the words, the lyrics bringing Eddie to mind. Not that he isn’t always on your mind. 
“Sing those lyrics to Paul?” Eddie asks.
With a frown, you turn to face him. “No. Paul and I aren’t anything. Why?”
“You had a lovesick expression on your face,” Eddie says, his voice a little harder than usual. Did you really have your emotions playing across your face like that? 
“Oh, Eddie,” you say with an over dramatic sigh. “It’s just because I love Billy Joel so much.”
Eddie flicks a few water droplets at you, and you giggle when they hit your face. 
“God, I’m gonna puke,” Eddie says, trying, and failing, to conceal a playful smile. 
“What?” you ask, giving him wide innocent eyes. “You don’t like Billy Joel? Huh, well that’s okay, Eddie.” You walk over to your purse and start to rifle through it, Eddie’s eyes tracking your every movement. “Here, maybe this will be better.” New cassette clutched in your hand, you go over to the stereo and stop the Billy Joel tape. 
Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow as he waits for you to switch to whatever God awful – he can only assume – music you’re going to put on. The new tape snaps back into the stereo and you’re strolling back in the kitchen to drop the Billy Joel tape back in your bag as the opening notes on this particular tape start. 
“No,” Eddie says, eyes narrowing at you when he starts to recognize the song. You pay no mind to him as you zip your purse back up, singing along with the lyrics as they start.
Life is a mystery
Everyone must stand alone
I hear you call my name
And it feels like home
“You’re honestly subjecting me to Madonna?” Eddie’s eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his skull. Ignoring his words this time, you keep singing along and twirl until you’re standing right in front of Eddie. Looking up at him with a mischievous smile, you grab his hands in yours and try to get him to dance along. He refuses, but you just keep standing there in front of him, moving your hips back and forth as you keep singing.
When you call my name, it's like a little prayer
I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there
Eddie’s breath catches in his chest. The image the lyrics evoke in his mind is not something he should be thinking about – let alone with you right in front of him. 
I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there
The line keeps repeating in his head on a loop accompanied by the image of you on your knees in front of him. Looking up from below him, your beautiful eyes wide and your lips pouted. Fuck. Why did he decide to put sweatpants on? Shit, he needs to get out of the kitchen before you can see his boner. 
“Uh, those two have been in the bathroom a dangerously long time,” Eddie says. Mercifully, you stop moving your perfectly sculpted hips when he speaks, giving Eddie a moment to compose himself a bit more. “Better go make sure they’re all washed up before I start dinner.”
“Okay,” you say, taking a few steps back from him to go collect your tape from the stereo. You pop it back in your purse and slide the bag onto your shoulders.
“See you tomorrow?” Eddie asks, turning his body towards the hall to better hide himself. “Party’s at one.”
“I can come by early and help set up?”
Even when desperately trying to usher you out of the house, he’s anxious to get you to come back as soon as possible. “Sure. Twelve? Little after?”
“I’ll be here,” you tell him, giving him a smile that’s not doing any favors for the hard on in his pants. 
He gives you a smile in return, along with a wave before he heads down the hall to the bathroom where the critters are probably making a mess. 
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As if picking out a bathing suit to wear for any other occasion wasn’t frustrating enough, now you have to pick one that Eddie would see you in. Impossible as it was, you managed to pick one. It’s a one-piece dark green suit with cut outs along the sides, exposing the sides of your ribs. It became the winning suit mostly because of how well it holds your boobs up, though. The girls are on display, but not about to fall out of your suit. A pair of denim shorts and a faded white t-shirt are your choices to throw on top of it. You scoop up Ryan’s gift and head out the door.
When you park your car in front of the Munson residence you can tell the backyard is being set up. Luke’s loud voice sounds from around the house, chattering away to who you can only assume is Eddie. The sound of patio chairs scraping against the pool deck drowns out the little boy’s voice, but you hear Eddie hum in agreement with something he said. Just that little sound from Eddie has an involuntary smile spreading on your face and you head to the side of the house where the gate to the backyard is located. 
“Luke, can you move that chair over? The one by the grill.” 
Eddie catches sight of you as you come around the corner of the house. His face lights up and it almost causes you to trip over your own sandals. When he goes to open his mouth to say hello, you hold your finger up to your lips, eyes darting towards Luke and back again. Eddie nods, a smirk playing over his lips. Slowly so as not to make a sound, you put Ryan’s gift down on the table closest to you and kick off your shoes. Luke’s back is still turned as you tiptoe closer to him. Striking, you reach out and snatch the small boy in your arms, hugging him to your chest. Squeals escape his tiny frame as he wriggles in your arms, and you press kisses to his cheek.
“Got you!” you call over his laughter. 
Eddie’s chuckling as he watches the two of you, untangling a string at the end of a “Happy Birthday” banner. 
“You scared me!” Luke says. 
“That was the point,” you say as you tickle his sides. He wiggles his way out of your grip and gives you a playful push. You pretend to stumble back, as if his strength was just too much for you. The triumphant look on his face melts your heart and you just want to snatch him up again. But before you can, Eddie’s voice calls for you.
“What’s up?” you ask, strolling over to the man.
“This ladder is kind of wobbly, can you hold it for me while I hang up the sign?” he asks.
“I can do it,” you say, holding your hand out for the banner.
“You sure?” Eddie asks, arching an eyebrow. 
“Yeah,” you say. “I trust you holding the ladder more than I do me.”
“If you insist.” He hands over the sign and you climb a few rungs up the ladder. Eddie’s hands hold the ladder on either side of your body, and he feels his cheeks flush when your ass is right at his eye level. Giving himself just a moment to enjoy the view, he decides not to be a perv and look up to where you’re securing the banner above the back door. 
“How’s it look?” you ask.
Your ass? Perfect, he thinks to himself. 
“Uh, looks good,” Eddie says. You climb down and are boxed in by the older man’s arms as he still holds on to the ladder. His lips quirk to the side as your eyes meet his. “Looks, um, really good.” 
Eddie bites his bottom lip, only breaking his trance when the back door opens, and he instinctively wraps his arm around you to tug you out of its way. The door bangs against the ladder and Ryan winces as he steps outside. He’s about to apologize when his eyes take in you standing there. The fear in Eddie screams that Ryan’s eyes went wide because his arm is around you, so he quickly drops it. But really, Ryan is just excited to see you. He runs over and throws his arms around your middle, burying his face in your stomach.
“Hey, you! Happy birthday, Ryan.”
“Thank you!” Ryan pulls back, giving you a grin. 
Eddie folds the ladder in and picks it up, your eyes immediately drawn to his muscles flexing in his Iron Maiden tee that he probably cut the sleeves off of himself. 
“Luke!” Brittany shouts from inside and it seems like all four of you in the backyard tense at the sound. Her footsteps are quickly approaching the back door and Luke groans, shuffling himself closer to you and Ryan. The door hinges squeak and Ryan’s grip tightens around you. 
“There you are,” Brittany says, eyes locking on her youngest son. Her eyes glance briefly over to you, then back to Luke. “Hi.” 
It takes a moment before you realize she was talking to you. “Uh, hi, Brittany.”
“Luke, come inside and help me. Eddie, you need to get the towels out of the linen closet.”
“Okay,” Eddie says. He ruffles Luke’s hair and prods him along to follow his mom inside.
“Need me to do anything out here?” you ask. 
“Uh…” Eddie slips his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and looks around the patio. “Not gonna light the grill til people start getting here. Chairs and tables are all set up. Oh!” He snaps his fingers and walks over to pull a box off of one of the deck chairs. “Can you put the birthday tablecloths on the tables?”
“Of course.” Bending down, you press a kiss to the top of Ryan’s head. “I put your present right over there. Wanna take it inside?”
“Yes!” 
For the next forty-five minutes you help the Munson’s around the house, setting up decorations, putting the snacks into bowls, and trying to keep Luke from shaking Ryan’s gifts around to try and figure out what’s inside. You're pulling the burgers and hotdogs out of the fridge in preparation for Eddie to grill when the man in question walks into the kitchen, Iron Maiden shirt still on, but his jeans exchanged for a pair of silver swim trunks. 
“Where are the boys?” he asks.
“Getting changed into their bathing suits,” you say as you knock the fridge closed with your hip.
The doorbell rings and Eddie heaves a sigh. “And so it begins.” He heads out to answer it and comes back in with an older man whom you recognize from photographs. Still, Eddie introduces the two of you.
“This old geezer is my Uncle Wayne,” Eddie says, playful smirk set on his pretty lips. 
“Ah, you must be the young lady the boys are always talking about.”
Wayne offers his hand which you shake with a polite smile on your face. Eddie hopes neither of you notice the pink tinge over his cheekbones because he knows he’s guilty of talking about you more than he probably should. 
“I guess that’s me,” you say. 
“Grandpa!” Luke runs in and launches himself at the older man. Wayne laughs and catches the young boy, swinging him up into his arms.
“There’s my troublemaker,” Wayne says.
“Fitting nickname,” you say with a giggle and Luke sticks his tongue out at you.
“Tongue to yourself,” Eddie says, tugging on one of Luke’s curls.
Over the next hour you’re introduced to so many people that you sincerely hope no one expects you to remember them all. There’s Brittany’s sister Sandy and her three children (that you can already tell are a handful), Eddie’s friend Dustin that you’ve heard so much about, and you definitely remember Steve Harrington—because he’s so handsome.
“Hi,” you say, offering Steve your hand to shake. His wife Nancy and their four kids have already come in and gone out to the backyard, but Steve was lagging behind since he was getting the presents out of the car. 
“It’s nice to meet you,” Steve says, shooting you a smile. Maybe it’s his old high school insecurities kicking in, but Eddie quickly claps Steve on the back and sends him out by the pool. 
But your favorite people you think you’ve today are also old friends of Eddie’s from high school. They came into the house bickering, but somehow it was in an adoring way that let you know it was them showing affection for one another. The man was tall, taller than both Eddie and Steve, and had an infectious smile. His wife had her fiery red hair up in a high ponytail and their baby in her arms.
“This is Lucas, Max, and little baby Tiffany,” Eddie tells you. Tiffany looks up at you with wide dark eyes, a gleeful expression on her chubby little face. 
“Oh, she’s precious,” you coo, smiling at the happy little girl. “How old is she?”
“Eight months,” Lucas says, looking adoringly at his daughter.
You end up sitting with the little family outside by the pool, on a deck chair next to Max while she holds the giggling baby in her lap. Ryan is happy, splashing away in the pool with his friends. It warms your heart to see the normally quiet boy laughing so loudly and having the time of his life. Eddie’s at the grill, flipping hamburgers and surrounded by Dustin, Steve, and Lucas. You’ve never seen Eddie with his friends before. He’s relaxed, spatula in his hand, and an easy smile on his face. They’re all laughing at something Dustin said and it brings joy to your face.
“Oh, shit,” Max says from next to you, drawing your attention away from Eddie.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, turning to face her. 
“I left her favorite pacifier in the car,” she answers with a sigh.
“Do you want me to go get it?” you offer.
“I’m not sure where it is in there.” Max stands, holding Tiffany on her hip. “Would you mind holding her while I go check?”
“Not at all,” you say, a smile on your face as the little girl beams at you. Max hands her over and her tiny fingers go right up to your mouth, making you giggle.
“I should be back in five minutes. But Lucas is over there if you need him.”
“Oh, we’ll be fine,” you assure her, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s my job.”
Max gives you a smile before heading back into the house.
“Well, hello, Miss Tiffany,” you say, holding her on your hip. She babbles in the language of babies, and you tilt your head. “I know. I agree.”
Eddie looks up from the grill to say something to Steve, but over his friend’s shoulder he catches sight of you holding Tiffany. It feels like his heart is going to liquify and melt right out of his chest. He’s always wanted a baby girl. But he also did not want to have any more children with Brittany. But seeing you, the girl he has a completely inappropriate crush on, holding a baby girl? Smoke is going to start coming out of his ears, joining that from the grill. 
“Uh, Steve, watch the grill for me? Just gotta ask what some people want to eat.” Eddie’s not even really looking at Steve as he shoves the spatula in his hand, moving past his group of friends and walking over to you. As he gets closer, he can hear you talking to Tiffany in that squeaky voice all adults seem to talk to young children in. The baby is giggling and waving her little hands around and it makes Eddie smile.
“Well, seems like you made a new friend,” Eddie says, coming to stand beside you so he can admire the girl as well. 
“And she’s just the sweetest little thing,” you say, still in the baby talk voice. Tiffany starts to fuss a little in your arms, but you’re quick to readjust her position and hike her up a little higher on your hip. It seems to have done the trick because she rests her head on your chest and looks up at Eddie with her large dark eyes. 
“Hey there, Tiffany,” Eddie says. She blinks at him, dark eyelashes kissing her cheek. 
“Isn’t she beautiful?” you ask.
“Absolutely,” Eddie says, eyes glancing at you. 
“I want one,” you say, only half joking. As if Eddie couldn’t want you any more than he already did, you had to go and say that. He can’t help it, he leans in and brushes a soft touch over Tiffany’s thin brown hair on the top of her head, Eddie’s head practically resting on your shoulder as he does it. He wants this so bad it hurts. His heart is in a vice grip and every day the handle seems to turn it even tighter. 
It’s affecting you as well. You’ve always wanted kids and loved being around them. It’s why you became a babysitter to begin with. But holding this sweet little girl with Eddie standing so close to you? You can’t help it, you close your eyes and let the fantasy take hold that this is your and Eddie’s baby in your arms. The warmth of his body is radiating over to you and the baby lays gently against your breast. The boys are having fun in the pool, and this is your little family. 
“Got it.” Max’s voice breaks you out of your illusion. She’s brandishing a green pacifier in the air as if it’s a trophy, the prize she’s been searching for. As soon as Tiffany catches sight of the pacifier, it gains all of her attention. She makes grabby hands for it and Max is quick to pop it into her mouth.
“Thank you so much,” Max says as she takes the baby from your arms.
“Not a problem. She was a little angel,” you tell her.
“She gets that from me.” Max smirks at Eddie, as if she’s expecting his bark of laughter even before he does it. 
“Uh huh,” Eddie says. “Check that red hair again, I’m sure you’ll find some horns growing beneath it.”
“I’d flip you off if my child wasn’t in my arms,” Max says.
“Then thank you, Tiffany,” Eddie says, leaning in towards the baby. She reaches out and tugs on one of Eddie’s curls.
“See? She said that’s what you get for talking like that about her mom,” Max says. 
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie says. “What do you want to eat?” He then asks you and pats your shoulder before walking back over to the grill.
The kids aren’t thrilled when they have to come out of the water to eat, because they know they’ll have to wait for a half hour afterwards before they can go back in. But Eddie had been prepared for that level of boredom from these rambunctious rugrats and had a few games set up for them on the back lawn. It wasn’t much, but the kids seemed to enjoy playing with the bean bag toss and the horseshoes. 
Once the half hour is up, you’re ambushed by Ryan who insists you come in the pool. Trying to tell him that you don’t want to seems futile since he has the double advantage of having those adorable puppy dog eyes and the fact that it’s his birthday on his side. He cheers when you agree, and the sound draws the attention of his father who had been talking with Wayne. But his gaze has been captured elsewhere when he sees you strip your white shirt over your head, revealing the green swimsuit beneath. When you bend over to take off your denim shorts, Eddie loses all coherent thought in his head. You turn to face Ryan fully, which also has you facing Eddie head on. His eyes take in every inch of you. From the way the bathing suit lifts your already impressive breasts, how the cutouts on the side of the suit tease him with glimpses of your soft, smooth skin, to the way the material hugs your hips just right and your long legs are left bare. They look so inviting and the only thought that goes through Eddie’s mind is that he wants to mark them up. Make that soft skin turn purple and red under his adoring mouth. 
You follow Ryan into the pool, taking one step at a time. The deeper you get, the colder it gets, so your muscles tense as you wade into your waist. Eddie chuckles as he sees you gritting your teeth, your shoulders pulled up to your ears, and your arms held just above the water, but not touching. 
Luke swims over and throws himself at you, making you squeal as the water from his body and the splash send goosebumps down your skin. 
“S’cold,” you say to Luke who only giggles in return. You wrap your arms around his small waist as he clings to you, arms coming up to encircle your neck. 
“Throw me?” Luke asks. 
“Yeah?” you ask, and he nods his head wildly, wet curls bouncing and shaking water everywhere. 
Moving your hands to the sides of his tummy, you bend your knees to coil your energy up before tossing the five-year-old into the deep end of the pool. He makes a splash, showering some of the other kids in the pool–who you were careful to avoid when throwing him. Luke pops back up, laughing as he shakes the water from his head like a dog coming out of the bath. 
“Not far enough!” he shouts as he swims back over to you. 
“Well, sor-ry,” you say, wrinkling up your nose at him. 
“Daddy throws me farther,” Luke says. 
“Well, your daddy is stronger than I am.”
“Daaaaaaddy!”
You wince at Luke’s volume, him taking full advantage of not having to use his inside voice.
“Luuuuke,” Eddie replies, strolling over to the edge of the pool, hands on his hips.
“Can you come throw me?” Luke asks, treading water. He has to squint his blue eyes in the sunlight to see his father semi clearly.
“Didn’t I just see you flying in the air?” Eddie asks, gesturing towards the deep end of the pool. 
“Apparently, I’m not strong enough to throw him as far as he wants to go,” you say, tilting your head as you look up at Eddie, attempting not to ogle him. 
“This kid and his high standards,” Eddie says with a sigh. He reaches down, whips his shirt off, and all attempts not to blatantly stare become futile. The muscles rippling in his lithe frame as he tosses the shirt back onto an empty chair have you biting your lip to keep in an inappropriate noise. 
Eddie steps forward, letting himself just drop into the pool with an effortless grace. It causes a large splash that smacks both you and Luke in the face but judging by the smirk on his face when he resurfaces, Eddie did it on purpose. “All right, come here you little hobbit.”
You watch Eddie grab his son and place his hands under Luke’s armpits. The excitement is clear on Luke’s face and it’s contagious, bringing an adoring smile to your lips as you watch the father and son. Eddie double checks to make sure there’s a clear path to throw Luke, then tosses him towards the deep end, the little boy grinning the whole time he’s in the air. Luke was right–his dad throws him farther. Ryan swims over, wanting a turn as well, which leads to most of the kids in the pool wanting to be thrown in the air. Eddie obliges, but you can tell that his muscles are getting tired as the children start to fly less and less farther into the deep end. 
“Okay, okay,” Eddie eventually says, his breath labored from all the activity. “That’s enough for now.” He dips under the water to cool down and when he comes back up, you swear he moves in slow motion like some cheesy movie moment; the beads of water dropping down his skin, his hair shaking out around him, curls weighed down from the water. It’s enough to make you go feral. 
“Hmm,” Eddie hums, eyes narrowing as he looks at you. There’s a mischievous look on his face and it makes you raise your eyebrows at him.
“Yes?” you ask.
“I think I have enough strength to throw one more person,” he says, sly smirk painting his features. 
“No,” you say with a laugh, shaking your head as you try to swim away from him. But he’s too fast. Too fast and too strong as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls your body back against his. The bare back of your shoulders is pressed up against his naked chest and the goosebumps that dot your skin are certainly from that and not the cool temperature of the air now that you’ve been in the water so long. Eddie spins you around so you’re face to face with him, and the ferocity of the turn has you reaching out to place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. You’re practically nose to nose with him, so you decide to take advantage of the moment and take him in. The darkness of his beautiful eyes. The smattering of freckles that dust the bridge of his hose and up his cheekbones. How plush and pink his lips are, even if they’re slightly chapped. Your eyes follow a droplet of water as it runs over his pretty mouth, down his strong chin, then plops back into the pool.  
“Ready?” he asks, voice low. Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you silently thank God you’re in a pool that will keep anyone from seeing how your thighs clench together. If he kept talking to you like that, you’d do anything he asked of you. 
“Yes,” you breathe out, as if it’s the only answer you could give him. His grip around your waist tightens, fingers against your bare skin showing through the suit’s cutouts, and you can feel his muscles flexing under your hands that still rest on his shoulders. There’s a small twitch of Eddie’s lips before he’s throwing you, sending you backwards into the water. Holding your breath as you go under, your skin still tingling where his hands had been on you. Body floating back up to the surface, you let out a huff of air once you break the surface. Laughter bubbles out of you as you wipe your eyes, whipping your hair out of your face. 
Ryan’s cake is next, and the expression of pure joy on his face has you feeling the pressure of tears behind your eyes. All of the little dancing flames extinguish with just one breath from the newly crowned seven-year-old. Luke is eager for a slice of the cake, not only because he was dying from lack of frosting earlier in the week, but because he was part of the labor that put this confection together. 
As the party winds to an end, you’re thoroughly tired, but it’s only fair that you help clean up since you helped set up. In your mind, anyway. Eddie disagrees, practically trying to take empty plates and dirty forks out of your hands when you try to clear the tables. Most of the guests are gone when Sandy, Brittany’s sister, grabs her keys and rounds up her three kids.
“Oh,” Brittany says, coming into the kitchen where you and Eddie are. She grabs her purse off the counter and slides it onto her shoulder. You’re not sure when she changed from the small string bikini she had on before, but she’s now wearing jeans and a nice blouse. “Sandy and I are heading to the store. I’ll be back.” Then she’s out the door. No further explanation. No asking if he needed her to pick up anything. Just leaving him with the remnants of a child’s birthday party, all the burdens falling on him. Or they would have, had you not been there. You would never leave him on his own like this. Your nails dig into your palms, and you drop your hands behind your back so Eddie can’t see. He doesn’t seem all that surprised, though. His eyes stay on the door for a few moments before he sighs and brings his attention back to wrapping up the leftover burgers. 
“You okay?” you ask in a small voice. Anger and empathy battle each other in your head, one for the bitch who walked out the door, one for the beautiful man standing in front of you. 
“Yeah,” Eddie says, putting the burgers in the fridge. “Surprised she didn’t dip out earlier, to be honest.”
Unsure of what to say, your hands twitch by your sides for a moment before you’re striding forward and wrapping your arms around his middle, laying your head against his shoulder. Eddie hesitates for half a second before his arms come up to encircle your waist, his head resting on top of yours. Neither of you says anything, just stand there in the quiet kitchen, holding onto one another. In both of your heads there’s a little voice telling you that this hug has gone on for too long for it to be considered appropriate between boss and employee, but neither of you care. You’re only jostled apart as you hear the backdoor open on its squeaky hinges. Reluctantly, you let go of one another and don’t meet each other’s eyes as Wayne comes into the kitchen with Luke, both of them bringing in trash from the backyard. As Luke steps towards the sink with the half-filled cup of fruit punch he’s holding, he trips over his own feet and the red liquid goes flying, landing right on the front of your white shirt. The cold drink makes you gasp as it soaks through the chest and stomach. Luke’s eyes immediately widen, tears welling up in them and you forget all about the bite of the wetness. 
“Hey, it’s okay,” you say, crouching down and rubbing up and down his arms. “Aw, don’t cry, sweetie. It was an accident.”
“I’m sorry,” Luke says, a few tears spilling over the brim. You wipe them away and shake your head.
“It’s okay,” you say. “I promise.” Luke nods and you help him throw away the rest of the garbage he brought in. 
“Luke, why don’t you clean up the floor while I get her a shirt to change into?” Eddie asks. Luke nods his head, letting out one more sniffle before he stands on his tiptoes to get the paper towels off of the counter. 
Wayne pats your shoulder, and you give him a smile. “You’re real good with them.”
“Thanks,” you say. “They’re the best.”
“I have to agree,” he says with a gruff chuckle before ushering Luke back outside so they can bring in anything that was left out there.
“Here,” Eddie says as he comes back into the kitchen. He offers you a white raglan shirt with black sleeves. You hold it up in front of you and see the emblem of a red devil’s head, fire and other accessories surrounding the face. 
“What’s Hellfire?” you ask. 
“Name of the D&D club in high school.”
“Oh right,” you say. “I remember you telling me about that. It’s where you met Dustin, right?”
“Yeah, he was–.” Eddie trips over his own words as you slip your soiled shirt over your head. Yes, you’re wearing your bathing suit underneath still, so you thought nothing of it. But Eddie wasn’t expecting it and all activity moves from his brain down to his crotch. How is supposed to keep composed when you just whipped your shirt off like it was nothing right in front of him, the support of your bathing suit basically forcing your breasts into his view? He feels himself twitch in his swim shorts and clears his throat before continuing. “Dustin, uh, was a freshman, yeah.” He originally had more to say, but nothing else comes out. 
As hot as it was when you took your shirt off, Eddie seeing you in a Hellfire shirt, his Hellfire shirt, it makes his brain short-circuit even further. He’s saved from embarrassing himself by stuttering in front of you by Wayne coming back in, throwing out another handful of trash. 
“I’m gonna go see if the boys need help,” you say, shooting both men a smile before heading out to the backyard.
As soon as they hear the door close behind you, Wayne rests a heavy hand on Eddie’s shoulder. His uncle sighs and Eddie turns his head to look at him.
“She’s a real sweetheart, that babysitter of yours,” Wayne says.
“She is,” Eddie agrees. 
“Pretty, too.” 
There’s the slightest arch of Wayne’s eyebrow and Eddie opens his mouth, no sound coming out. He stumbles under the knowing gaze of the man who knows him better than anyone else in the world. Eddie finally manages to nod his head. His tongue pokes out to lick over his lips before he speaks. 
“Yeah, she is.” 
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Once the house is back in order and the boys are tucked into their beds, both you and Eddie crash on the couch. Brittany still hasn’t come back yet to the surprise of neither of you. But if Eddie was completely honest with himself, he’d rather his wife stay out and have you stay here with him. 
“Today was fun,” you say, letting your head drop to the back of the couch.
“It was,” he agrees. “More than I thought it would be. But also, way more exhausting.”
“You should get some sleep,” you murmur, shifting yourself so you can head out. But Eddie has other plans, nodding and resting his head on your shoulder. There’s a spike in your heartrate as his hair tickles the side of your neck. Your stomach is full of butterflies and they’re bumping into one another as they fly around. Eddie stays that way until you hear Brittany’s car in the driveway and jostle him awake. 
“Eddie,” you say softly, not wanting to scare him.
“Hmm?”
“Brittany’s home.”
If he wasn’t half asleep, he probably wouldn’t have let out the irritated groan like he did, but it’s too late now. Not like you don’t know the two of them are having issues, anyway.
“I’m gonna head out. “I’ll see you on Monday, yeah?”
“See you on Monday. Oh.” He catches your wrist as you stand up from the couch. “Thank you for helping today. Setting up and cleaning. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course,” you tell him with a smile. “Anything for my favorite boys.”
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On Monday, Eddie’s bent under the hood of a car, trying like hell to unscrew a stubborn cap. The voice of his friend startles him and he almost bangs his head on the hood as he jumps.
“Hey,” Steve says.
“What are you doing here?” Eddie asks, wiping grease on the rag hanging over his shoulder. “It acting up again?”
“Yep,” Steve says, sliding his hands in his pocket. Eddie lets out a sigh and nods his head.
“Okay, I’ll try and work it in today.” He makes to go back under the hood, but Steve’s question has him freezing his movements.
“So, uh, question for you. Are you fucking the babysitter? Because between you and me? You should be.”
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luvsuperboard · 1 year
Text
hyunjin, do you like having a dick?
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pairing: boy bsf hyunjin x f.reader
contains: crack, drama queen hyunjin, the word dick and a whole conversation about dicks (well, clearly, look at the tittle) and some other curse words, mentions of periods and menstruating. mdni.
note: hihihi, LFMAOAOA OK SO, idk where the idea came from but is so fucking random i swear 😭, i also chose hyunjin for this bc his dramatic ass is perfect for this silly scenario, hope u enjoy!
-
you came out of the shower, cheeks flushed from the hot water and hair smelling like your favorite fruit scented shampoo. once you had on some comfy pajamas on you walked towards your bedroom–were hyunjin was ofc.
“you took like five years” his back was resting on the bed’s headboard, he had been reading a book or something while you were showering.
“shut up” you threw him the little towel you were using to dry your hair as you just fell on top of the bed, letting a big sigh out “im so jealous of you right now” you said with your face buried in the soft pillows.
“first of all, how dare you throw your dirty towel on my beautiful face,” the disgusted face he made was crazy “and second, jealous of?”
you sat up, tugging your hair behind your ears before taking a deep breath “wait hold on before you say anything” he put the book aside and stretched, giving you that ‘let it out’ stare.
“it’s not that bad, it’s just..” you played with your hands but soon stopped when you remembered you were talking to hyunjin, the mf knows everything about you so why would you be ashamed of sharing this?
“i’m on my period, i’m cramping so fucking bad, and like do you know what is it to have to deal with cramps? imagine you are peacefully sleeping, on a friday night after eating the most scrumptious pizza ever and you feel like your life is perfect because oh man, what can go wrong? i just ate and i’m happy and i’m sleeping. WELL NO! A FUCKING CRAMP THOUGHT IT WAS OKAY TO SHOW UP IN MY SLEEP AND WAKE ME UP!” you slapped the mattress, okay well you maybe had to let some things out.
“AND YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED WHEN I STOOD UP MY BED AFTER I WAS AWAKENED BY THAT BITCH? A BIG, oh hyunjin when i tell you it was big is because it was. A BIG ASS RED-“
“OKAY NO NEED TO GET SPECIFIC I GET IT, BREATHE” he caressed you back to comfort you.
he couldn’t help it but laugh at the way you were trying to catch your breath “come here” he patted his lap as in a way of telling you to rest your head on it, so you did. “you’re crazy” he said while playing with your now not so wet hair.
“it’s just so annoying sometimes like ugh”
“i can’t say i relate like i always do, but you’ll be fine. it’s normal, just make sure to rest and not be climbing the walls like the weird creature you are, yea?” he whispered and kept playing with you hair.
“hm, i guess”
you stayed for a while like this; completely spacing out and staring at the ceiling while your head rested on his thighs until he broke the silence “so, why were you jealous of me?”
you quickly lifted your head from his lap and sat again “oh yea, well i was ‘jealous’ because you don’t get periods? duh” his lips were in a ‘o’ shape and he nodded.
“so? that’s it?” his eyebrows furrowed as he was expecting you to say something else.
“yeaaa? wait oh my god”
“oh god please no”
“LATE NIGHT TALK!”
you both spent the night talking and giggling about the most random stuff, but you enjoyed this, everything started because of your tiny rent about being sick and tired of menstruating. but for some reason a question popped up in your mind, yall were talking about anything. so, why don’t kill the curiosity and approach the moment by asking?
“hyunjin”
“hm?”
“do you like having a dick.” you said with a straight face, you were seriously trying not to laugh, you truly wanted to know.
“HUH?!” his answer made you burst out of laughter, his ears turned bright pink. cute.
“LISTEN, GOD WHY ARE YOU BLUSHING? IT WAS JUST A QUESTION”
“WELL I DONT GET ASKED THAT EVERYDAY, WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?”
“WHY ARE WE YELLING?!”
“I DONT KNOW”
“okay let’s calm down” he gulped and waited for you to speak again.
“hyunjin, do you like having a dick?” you said with a tiny smile, as soon as he heard you he started massaging his temple.
“y/n you are so fucking weird-“
“ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION.”
“FINE,” he looked around as if there was people in the room and as if it was some confidential information what he was about to say “it’s cool i guess”
“pft, you guess?” he just shrugged but you wanted him to say more “cmonnnn, for example; if i had a dick-“
“please don’t”
“i’d be hard all the time.“
“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”
“IM JUST SAYING BRO, LIKE, IS THERE ANY PROS AND CONS OF HAVING A DICK?” he sighed and shook his head dramatically “no there’s not, y/n, it’s just a body part”
“there has to be”
“THERE IS NOT. LEAVE ME ALONE IM GONNA GO CRY IN A CORNER OR SOMETHING” he hid under the blankets like a little kid, but you pulled them off him and continued with your mission of killing the curiosity.
“YOU SAID ITS ‘cool i guess’. THAT MEANS IT HAS PROS RIGHT?”
“lord save me”
“I HEARD IT CAN FALL OFF? IS THAT TRUE?”
“WHAT THE FUCKITY FUCKING FUCK, NINE ONE ONE HELP”
“WHAT, NO DONT SAY THAT YOU WHORE, PEOPLE ARE GONNA THINK IM KILLING YOU”
“LEAVE ME ALONE THEN”
“hold on i just thought of an amazing question”
“I WANT MY MOM”
“does it glow in the dark? JUST KIDDING”
“MOMMM”
“wait but does it?”
“MOOOOOOOM”
“SHHH, oh also do you have a name for it?”
“i swear to god- wait what did you say?”
“a name for your little mate”
“no but thanks for the idea, AND IM NOT TELLING YOU ONCE I HAVE A NAME FOR IT”
“CAN YOU MOVE IT MENTALLY?”
“IM SO DONE WITH YOU, WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT EVEN MEAN? GOOGLE EXISTS”
“UGH, WHAT ABOUT WHEN IT’S COLD.. does the size chang-“
“oh my god, i’m gonna call chan”
“YOU’RE GONNA ASK HIM IF HIS LITTLE FRIEND CHANGES SIZE DEPENDING ON THE WEATHER? oh but im the weird one okay”
“ARE YOU CRAZY?” he softly flicked your forehead with his middle finger “IM GONNA CALL HIM BECAUSE IM SCARED” you saw how he was about to pull his phone out his pocket but you stopped him by grabbing his wrist.
“LET ME GO!”
“ANSWER THE QUESTION”
“NO!” he jumped out of the bed and ran to the bathroom, locking himself in and resting his back on the door just in case you could enter.
“COME HERE YOU ARTSY BITCH”
“HELLO? CHAN HYUNG?”
“HE’S PROBABLY SLEEPING STOP LYING”
“THAT BOY DOESN’T SLEEP, ARE YOU DUMB?”
“shit you’re right, anyway. HWANG HYUNJIN, LET. ME. IN.” this time the little trick of kicking the door didn’t work since hyunjin had put his weight on it.
“NEVER!”
“YOU DONT EVEN HAVE TO LET ME IN! just answer the question..”
“I SAID NO, BRO GO ASK JISUNG OR SOMETHING”
“i already did.” oh yea when it comes to tea you know you’ll have hyunjin there, so he opened the door slowly.
“really?” you nodded and he gasped dramatically, drama queen ass.
“so? what did he say?”
“come to the bedroom and i’ll tell you every single detail”
“deal.”
you spent like an hour or so telling hyunjin about what you asked han, plus more tea yall spilled through the conversation, which was enough for you to forget about the initial goal. as soon as you remembered you tapped his shoulder.
“just go to sleep, we’ve talked enough, it’s two in the morning” he said and it’s not like you’re dumb to not know he was fake-yawning too. you rolled your eyes and covered your body with the blanket. still curious, kind of mad, and not wanting to sleep since the talking had shaken your tiredness away.
he let out a deep breath when he felt your body relax underneath the blanket, he thought you had finally fallen asleep and-
“if i had a dick for a day i’d be laughing so hard like, does it just… hang there?”
“Y/N!”
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issacballsac · 9 months
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“Attempting to be Friends with Vergil Sparda„
Honestly he’d never outright call you his friend💀 ! Gn Demon Reader
Origins | DMC3
Let’s be FR he wouldn’t care abt your gender or lack there of he still sees you as lesser than
You’d have to be a Devil or half Devil to even linger around him
Im seeing you just come from Hell to be friends with him🦀
Naturally like any of the devils in DMC3 u were originally gonna attack Vergil bc NPC does what NPC is supposed to do
But you have common sense a pretty mf with a sword is bad news so let’s be friends dear beautiful one
Bear with me right—all ur demon gang gets slaughtered by this mf and you’re just standing there watching fascinated absolutely entranced by this mf
Seeing as you’re the last obstacle he points that big ass katana at you
“Sorry I just can’t fight someone so beautiful man.”
Gives you the MEANEST side eye
Still tries to HARM you and succeeds—but like you regenerate 💀
Mf would let out the BIGGEST sigh and just walk away🪦
You follow ofc bc who wouldn’t (a mf who wants to live 💀)
Bonding
Me when might controls everything 🫦
Despite being a demon yourself you def would try to convince him to NOT open the portal
Bc lets be FR them other devils ain’t shit for nothin‼️
He constantly looks annoyed and has a mean case of resting bitch face
He’s very stand-offish and depending on how long/well you know each other he’ll listen to what you’re sayin
Especially if ur a person that likes to go on rants
DMC3 he’d be more open to a mf who has no attachments as seen during the scene where he stabbed Arkham
New to friendship and sees everything as a transaction
You give me this and I give you that typa thing
Would take FOREVER to tell you abt his childhood and by the time he does u pretty much already know bc of Dante
Would get along better if ur also half demon rather than full demon as he has a complex where he continuously tries to rid himself of his humanity
Bros on a MISSION so u gotta be able to keep up
Obviously being demon/half demon you got some power but if you’re weak he’s gonna drop you I’m sorry 💀(no I’m not)
Daily
Doesn’t celebrate his birthday
Just in general regardless of his childhood I just don’t think he’d like to
So no surprise parties please🫶
Now don’t get me wrong he IS smart but like also a dumbass💀
Constantly makes you think bc he’ll say smth so stupid but make it sound so smart
A very dramatic mf
Always makes dramatic entrances no matter where he goes
Walks into McDonalds with his blue coat flowing, snowlike hair, glistening eyes, arched eyebrows, and a judgmental look
Baby let ur hair down🫦
Bro is effortlessly breathtaking and if u ask for tips or question what he does for his routine he looks you up and down, scoffs, and leaves💀
I NEED MORE POWER
Spars with you bc luckily you can regenerate
Infinite punching bag
Love a reader with no shame(me acting like I didn’t write this)
Idk why but I feel like he can play the piano as just like a pastime thing
When trapped in Hell u just roam around y’know bc you’ve lived there for as long as you can remember 😭
Vergil is in a constant search for more power and ur just chillin watching him
Like those mfs who still calmly sip on their drinks when there is a bar fight
“Woohoo! Go Vergil you’re doin’ great!”
“Shut up!”
He loves you, I promise.
Talks shit abt Dante, lovingly ofc
After the events of DMC5 if he were to come back with Dante(ambiguous ending)
Y’all would prob live together
And they were roommates 😨
FR tho it’s like weird especially with Nero being recognized as his son
“Nero is my son?”
“You have a son?”
“I didn’t know..”
“How did you not know?”
Becomes more vocal during the friendship during/after the events of DMC5
He doesn’t see the need for an abundance of clothes so if ur into fashion your ideas fill 98% of his wardrobe
Honestly I think he can cook
More of a baker methinks
He probably wouldn’t like sweets but he’ll certainly make them himself
No I’m not going to make a berries delight joke.
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my thoughts on prelude to ecstasy:
the intro orchestral movement?? it felt like something out of a roman period piece. it was so perfect and just *chefs kiss* and the ending crescendo was so gorgeous
burn alive felt so dramatic like watching the lead up to a murder “let me make my grief a commodity” and “there is candle wax melting in my veins” are just such poetic lyrics. the guitar riff during the verse feels like a warning- eerie and stark. “i am not the girl i set out to be” is such a raw line it makes me feral omfg. abigail morris’ final line felt like an open wound
i’ve heard caesar on a tv screen before but in the context of the album as a whole changes it. it’s almost like a sequel of sorts, showing what she “set out to be”. musically, the contrast between the verse and chorus itches a scratch on my brain. “champion of my fate” feels so spiteful idk why
the feminine urge gives lana vibes maybe cause of the darker imagery and tone. it feels like a performer cracking their mask. “i am a dark red liver stretched out on the rocks” is sUCH A GOOD LYRIC. “to nurture to wounds my mother had” killed me my god
again i’ve heard on your side before but the album changes the feelings within it. if the feminine urge was the cracking of the mask then this song is the removal of it. it is vulnerable and raw and open about love and shame. the vocals feel like they’re pleading but already resigned- it’s heartbreaking
the flute opening for beautiful boy sounds so wistful. this so is so queer omg. “what good are red lips when faced with something dark” the lone piano chords in the chorus plus the harmonies are so ethereal they make me feel like i’m at my funeral service.
gjuha makes me feel like i’m intruding on something private, a ritual between a girl and a god. THE TRANSITION OMFG
the placement of gjuha before sinner MAKES ME FEEL THINGS OMG. like the contrast of imagery, between sin and holiness. “TURN TO THE ALTAR OF LUST” this song made me feral when i first heard it and it makes me feral now like omg. the religious imagery in this entire album is so interesting
my lady of mercy’s bass line is so groovy and perfect and amazing. and the percussive claps are so amazing. again, this so is so queer™️. the heavier sound in the chorus is so amazing and the bridge makes me feel like i’m fighting my final stand and praying to win
i love the stripped back piano of portrait of a dead girl compared with my lady of mercy. even further in the track, it remains kinda mellow and softer but no less direct. “the dignity of letting me go” when it finally gets more upbeat it the chorus it rly doesn’t disappoint. and the strings omg. also song title could be a nod to the album cover or vice versa??
the beginning of nothing matters feels like a prayer and the harp is so bloody good. “a sailor and a nightingale dancing in convertibles” the guitar riffs in the second verse are so funky i love it and the solo just makes me want to dance.
mirror feels like the end of the battle- the drums and solemn voice. it’s the end of the performance, the final death. “pretty glass and empty heart” death of the performer is the death of the album. but the final fifty seconds feels like a rebirth in a way, growth and renewal.
i don’t know if u could tell but i fricking loved this album like it’s everything i’ve ever wanted in terms of vibes and blend of dramatics and sincereness. i’m just praying that i get tickets omg
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lunerabo · 5 months
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no but like could u do a oneshot or something about the reader cussing someone out in spanish (im guessing u speak spanish since ur mexican) n who ever u want getting horny...? idk i had friend tell we it was hot when i spoke on the phone with my sister in spanish n that made me feel... happy ;)
I am absolutely a no sabo kid but WE’RE WORKING ON IT and luckily for you I know enough to answer fairly confidently (though that’s mainly taking from shit my mother has said to me soooo.)
Gone are the days where you can poke fun at him, where you’d cackle like a hyena on the phone with a friend about how you can say anything you want and your boyfriend can’t understand you. Satoru’s a smart man. Even if he hadn’t asked to learn your tongue at all, he would’ve picked up on some things.
You’d be proud of him for learning, if he didn’t immediately abuse what little power he’s gained. Insulting your salsa—“no es tan picoso,” he claims, even as his eyes water—and oh, you’ll show him picoso alright.
What he does notice, however, is the interesting habit of yours to switch languages whenever you’re annoyed in the hopes that he’ll stop attempting communication. This is a barrier he’s at last breached, replying in English or in Japanese whenever you spit a petty insult at him. And to say you aren’t pleased about that is an understatement.
“No entiendes la palabra que no? I really would, pero I’m so busy right now, you don’t even know.”
He may not know every word in the question, but he knows enough to understand it.
“But we can eat later! I’m hungry for something else right now, you can understand that.”
“Satoru, keep this up and you’re making your own food tonight.”
“Come on, you know as much as I do you don’t want to be stuck cooking, not while I’m right here, just begging for you to-“
“No. Quiero comida.” A pause, before you mutter to yourself, “y te ves como un palo.”
He gasps, dramatically slapping a hand to his chest.
“Excuse me?! How? You are all over these muscles in bed, need I remind you, I’m the furthest thing from-“
“It’s the outfit. Doesn’t do you any favors, makes you look skinny.”
“Then take it off me.”
Your lips press into a line, eyes shut and brow furrowed in annoyance, as you turn to face him.
“Y sigues con los pendejadas.”
His hands are, unsurprisingly, already on your ass, his boner pressed hard up against your waist.
“C’mon,” he whispers, and you allow him only a kiss, before whipping your head around to face the source of the slightly burnt smell.
“Satoru! You- ugh, por el amor de dios-“
He’s got a split second notice before he sees you reach downward for a weapon he’s become far too well acquainted with in the time he’s been with you, and he bolts out of the kitchen with a desperation only ever seen on rabbits running from foxes.
“Hijo de puta motherfucker, I’ll gonna wring your little neck como un pollo! Usaré tus seis ojos como joyas!”
Your aim is true, your slipper firm, and your boyfriend likely concussed.
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skulls-soul · 8 months
Text
Imagine with me  c/w 🚬
 Luigi goes out to the balcony to smoke  being extra careful because he doesn’t want Mario to know where he went because Mario doesn’t like Luigi smoking
while Luigi was smoking Bowser ends up going to the same balcony that Luigi’s on
Luigi holds in his breath to keep in the smoke all though once he makes eye contact with Bowser,he breathes out the smoke, and Bowser ends up interrogating him, wondering why in the world his boyfriend has spoke coming out of him
Bowser: WHY IS THERE SMOKE COMING OUT OF YOUR?!?!? CAN U BREATH FIRE??? DID YOU EAT SOMETHING HOT?!? DID U EAT FIRE?!?!?! ARE U DIEING?!?!?!?!
Luigi tries to calm his partner by answering all of his questions “ no I cannot breathe fire, and I didn’t eat anything to cause this I’m just smoking that’s all”
With Luigis answers bowsers anxiety calmed but his confusion was still very present.
This is where my idea kind of splits because I don’t know if I want Luigi to A say something that causes Bowser to go tell Mario resulting in Luigi dramatically, saying traitor even tho Bowser’s doing it because he loves him and doesn’t want him to get hurt
Or B maybe Luigi mentions on how “it kind of burns when I inhales the smoke and stuff other than that I’m all right”
Which causes Bowser to take the cigarette and destroy it, because nothing is allowed to hurt his boyfriend
OR C what if their not boyfriends yet and instead this is when Bowser has a crush on Luigi, so when he finds out that smoking isn’t exactly the most healthiest of things to be doing, and can actually cause quite a lot of harm, he snitches on Luigi
Luigi ask him why he did that it’s not like he cares about his health and Bowser responds with. “That’s where you’re wrong because of course I do care.”
Which, this confuses the fuck out of Luigi. causing him to ask question that leads to him finding out about Bowser‘s feelings on him 
Luigi obviously forgets about the whole confiscated cigarette pack, (because of course Mario took it away from him) and is now more focused on the koopa in front of him
Idk there are many ways u can go with this. just pick your fav or make up your own, what evs ya wanna do boo cuz this all I got
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tojivu · 1 year
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PLEASE CALL ME [01]
a/n part 1 out of idk.. anyways this was so heavily inspired by phoebe bridger’s songs.. i’m so obsessed with her (=´∀`) oh and also by a book i finished a long time ago but haven’t gotten over lol. i tried writing this in 3rd person pov but tbh it’s hard for me to display emotion in my writing if it’s 3rd person cus it’s like giving u instructions on how to feel 😭. I KNOW ITS 2023 OKAY I KNOW WE DONT LIKE 1ST PERSON ANYMORE BUT PLS LET ME HAVE MY MOMENT
warnings/tags barely proofread (i tried), if yall don’t like tis i’ll probably discontinue it LOL, childe x implied f!reader, sfw.
listen to chinese satellite by phoebe bridgers.
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“Good morning.” Ajax is speaking to you, voice low. “It's a hot day.”
You were shivering, actually. Mornings were always cold no matter what the temperature was. Nevertheless, you nod and agree with him anyway. “Yup, isn’t it?”
You two were standing outside your house, waiting for the other to initiate the walking, to which you end up doing it. He follows behind, the path too narrow to fit the two of you—this was a familiar sound. Heavy footsteps you could only recognise to be Ajax’s only two metres behind you. You don’t need to turn around to know he’s staring at the back of your head.
Such a nostalgic feeling, you think. You and him have been passing by the same trees and the same brown-cream coloured houses for 5 years now.
“Can you believe that we’re graduating in two months?”
He doesn’t answer.
You repeat the question again and he finally responds. You turn around, curious as to what had gotten him so distracted; his phone is in his hand, he’s looking into it and it’s pointing at you—his bright yellow phone case pales in comparison to the smile he has on his face.
“Not even going to let me pose?”
“You don’t need to do that. Your morning face is enough.”
“What does that even mean?”
“You’re pretty when you wake up.”
It’s 6 in the morning. Ajax was never one to think before he speaks, especially when the sun had just risen 5 minutes prior. You ignore what he says, assuming he just couldn’t tell that isn’t something you say to friends.
“Sure.”
It’s 8:27 am. You’ve been sitting through an hour of English, and you swear you thought the subject couldn’t get any more boring than when it was in middle school. You’re spinning your blue MUJI 0.5 tip pen between your middle and index finger, ultimately failing after 5 seconds and letting it drop to the floor. It rolls away, farther than you could bend and reach for—a soft metal clinking sound is heard when you realise it’s hit someone’s chair.
The red and black coloured backpack on the floor next to the chair made it obvious where your pen had gone and who’s chair it hit.
You whisper-yell, “Hey, can you pick that up?”
Ajax turns around and looks at you and then the floor. You’re thankful as he picks up the pen, but then quickly confused as to why he just turns forward again—keeping your pen at his desk.
YOU: It feels as though the evening has been stretched, like time is in slow motion and not in a good way; because I’m looking at Ajax sitting across from me and we have not spoken. I have a cup of coffee in my right hand, much too sweet for my own taste; a cat drawn from the latte art I don’t remember requesting. I’m very sure I asked for a bunny. I’m very sure. I think I left my Math textbook in class. The trees look really lively or something like that, I don’t really know, I am making sure to look away from Ajax because I know he’s staring.
“What?”
“What what?” He acts like he wasn’t just staring at me for the past 5 minutes. “Is there a problem?”
“My problem is that you’re being weird today.”
His mouth is agape, too dramatic to be genuine. “That’s rude.”
I don’t know what to reply to him now, knowing that he’ll just continue acting stupid. My shoes squeak against the wooden flooring as I lean back in my chair, it’s evening now and I’m so exhausted. People from the high school three streets away from ours are filling the tiny place up, passing by our table and some stare at Ajax as they do. The oak tables that were empty just a half hour ago are now full of teenagers, this whole place is infested with us; behind, left and right.
It’s not weird for people to stare at Ajax when we’re out together. It’s not like he’s a celebrity or anything, but somehow every girl I know has heard of him or has heard of him from someone who has heard of him. It’s a big chain of people I find impossible to keep track of. If you mentioned his name anywhere, someone would definitely go “you know him too?”.
I’m drinking my tea slowly and quietly. A group of girls are laughing so loud my eardrums could burst. Another group of girls walk in and the familiar bell sound of the café entrance rings, and it’s no surprise they know Ajax too; he smiles at them, I can’t tell if out of politeness, when they walk by. They’re giggling to themselves and I can’t help but feel a bit lost.
“What’s wrong with you today?” He’s asking me as if multiple things aren’t wrong with him. Suddenly, I’m the one with the problems.
I don’t bother anymore, I think about that moment minutes ago over and over again and I have no idea what to make of it. That giggle wasn’t a “what a coincidence” giggle, more like a teasing sort, the kind your friends do when your crush talks to you.
“Nothing is wrong with me.” I’m lying. “I’m gonna go home.”
He is so clueless, so oblivious to everything it is paining me. Oblivious to the amount of girls that are looking his way in this very establishment, at this very moment in time. It makes me almost angry, somewhat, that he doesn’t know.
AJAX: It is 7 P.M. and dark out. I think she’s angry but she’s just slouching over, but I get some sort of sensing that she will explode if I try to talk to her.
“Helllooo.” I’m next to her now, and she doesn’t want to reply to me; her eyes are on mine, eyebrows furrowed and clearly sending a message: Don’t even say anything.
I feel myself smiling because she looks very adorable. She is much shorter than I am. When she’s angry, I’m never able to take her seriously. I don’t think I ever have. Oftentimes in her fits of anger I am caught admiring her, smiling because I think she is so dramatic. When we were 15 she once yelled at me for using her charger, and apparently ‘making her phone charge slower’. She is one of the angriest and most short tempered people I know, yet I think she pulls off the frustrated pout and narrowed eyes very well. It doesn’t matter much to me.
“I’m not gonna ask what’s up with you because you got mad when I did.”
She looks forward again and we are still walking. Her house is still a few blocks down. I think she’s getting tired, too. I shouldn’t have dragged her to get milk tea with me. This path is too narrow to fit the two of us.
I walk in front of her and I can hear her tongue clicking out of annoyance. I bend down and stretch my arms, “Get on my back”.
I feel weight shifting onto my upper back, her long hair is tickling my neck but I don’t mind. Her arms are tired, slow in their movements as they wrap around me too, her head on my right shoulder and she does not say a word in all of it.
“Thank you.” she is whispering to me a few minutes later, and I think I am getting tired too. My legs want to give out. They don’t because I don’t let them.
It’s another 10 minutes and I’m at her front door, unlocking it using the key in her wallet; her parents are on the couch and watching TV and I start to wonder what this would look like to them.
“Ajax?” Her mother turns her head around and is surprised to see me, considering I wasn’t calling to say I was coming over. I haven’t done that in months.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s just tired, that’s all.” I tell her and I try my best not to speak too loud in case the girl on my back wakes up. I can feel her breaths on my back, slow and controlled. I bring her upstairs to her room and I lay her on her bed. Her room has changed quite a bit since I had last been in it, her desk is much more organised than it was a few months ago.
I found myself rejecting her invitations to hang out in her room over the summer break.
I think if I were to be alone in a room with her for too long I would end up blurting it out. I would tell her I’ve loved her since we started being friends, and she’d kick me out of her house and never talk to me again. But now she’s sleeping and I think I’m okay, so I pull her blankets over her and whisper; “Goodnight, I love you”.
YOU: I have no idea what day it is. I feel sticky. I look around and after a few seconds I sigh out of relief, realising this is my house, and these are my bedsheets. I don’t remember how I got here, though, my uniform is still on and the last thing I can recall is me on Ajax’s back.
I reach for my phone but realise it’s dead. A post-it note is next to my nightstand, ‘You’re welcome for the ride back. Call me when you wake up You owe me’, and on the bottom right corner there is an ugly and disproportionate cat drawn.
He didn’t even have the courtesy to remove my socks for me, but I guess that’s fair because I don’t think I’d go anywhere near his feet either.
I plug my phone into my charger and wait. I don’t know if he wants me to call him, but I think I should, I want to.
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28 days later and i’m back with this shitty fic — 130423
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vctrvn-ls · 9 months
Note
how would each of the guys react to their gf cheating on them?
whoever requested this is pure evil….I like
3am thoughts
not the best but u know 🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️
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Cheating |Beta Squad|
☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆
Kenny
In the moment he finds out he’d go numb. For him his world would absolutely crumble to bits (yes I’m that dramatic). He’d want to confront her immediately, with hope that what he had been told was a lie, but after hearing confirmation he’d just leave. I don’t think he would cry, the next day he’d go to the gym and spend endless hours in there, trying to put his anger into the poor punchbag. After realizing a punchbag wasn’t enough, he’d schedule an extra boxing session where he’d mainly do sparring (since it imitates hitting someone the most and he’d wanna punch whoever). Doesn’t matter how long he was dating her, he still gave all his love and energy, so I think it would take some time for Kenny to fully get over his ex. (cried a little while writing)
AJ
He’d believe it and instantly blame it on himself, but never admit it. He wouldn’t be scared to confront her and when he does he’d do it straight away, no matter where the place was. A big big fight would happen at home though. HUGE fight. AJ knows he’s been treating her right, giving her all the love and respect she deserves, and for her to just swerve at him like that? He wouldn’t take it. This would definitely affect his trust issues by like A LOT and it would definitely affect his future relationships, possibly resulting in some “controlling” behavior just out of pure fear.
Chunkz
Would probably be the chillest to react. Depending on how long he’s been with her he’d probably just get up and leave for good. If it was a 2-5 month relationship he wouldn’t want an explanation, he wouldn’t waste more energy on her, just straight up cut her off. If it was something more serious than that would be a whole different story. He’d want to sit down, talk it out, understand everything from all sides and after voicing how disappointed he was without any aggression what so ever. Chunkz knows his worth and to be honest he’d start seeing signs that something might be up beforehand and I feel liked he might end it before anything happened.
Sharky
Sharky would first deny it completely. He wouldn’t want to believe it, he wouldn’t be able to believe it. That’s until she tells him and despite how sorry she is he’d show no mercy in the upcoming fight. Now I don’t think Sharky would use any “mysogynistic” language (like slut or whore) but he’d definitely find other words that would perfectly portray how mad he is. And we probably wouldn’t expect it from him, but I think he’d get the most aggressive. Why? Because Sharky would be so selfless in a relationship and he’d make the biggest sacrifices for her and as soon as he finds out that none of that was appreciated he’d be fuming. At some point he’d hate himself, thinking “how didn’t I see it coming?”, “maybe she had a reason too?” and I think he would generally overthink everything (poor baby) and also I think, if it was a long and serious relationship, he would cry. Not like straight up bawling but just imagine him driving late at night, Tory Lanez blasting on full volume in his car with his windows open while the wind brushed the built up tears out of his eyes. And poor Sharky would get frustrated and angry, he’d aggressively wipe the corners of his eyes before continuing to focus on the road, trying his best to stay under the speed limit.
Niko
I’m terrified to actually imagine this. Like I’m gonna probably end up crying by the time I finish this. Idk how accurate this gon be but when Niko hears the “rumors” he’d 100% refuse to believe them. Like he’d be so so sure that she’d never do that cause he knows how well he treated her and with how much love, care and genuine respect he had for her. But as soon as this baby hears it from her own mouth he’d be devastated, disgusted and so so disappointed. He wouldn’t say anything hurtful, he wouldn’t start a massive fight, he’d just want to know “why?” or how did it even happen, what the hell did he do? Was it on purpose? Was she drunk? He’d want to know everything before actually leaving her. And he would. As much as it would break him, he knows that that’s not something he would be able to forgive (agreed) and I feel like it would affect him in his future relationships. It would make him a little closed off for a while and he would be more cautious than before AND ITS SO SAD BECAUSE NIKOOOO (I would never do that to you bbg)
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