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eldritch-thrumming · 28 days

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is it casual now?, pt. two

pt. one

my friends call me a loser ‘cause i’m still hanging around. i’ve heard so many rumors that i’m just a girl that you bang on your couch. i thought you thought of me better, someone you couldn’t lose. you said, “we’re not together,” so now when we kiss i have anger issues. you said, “baby, no attachments,” but we’re knee deep in the passengers seat and you’re eating me out, is it casual now?

around one in the morning, steve can’t take the tossing and turning anymore. he calls robin and she just says she’s coming over. she rides her bike all the way to steve’s house in the dark even though he tells her over and over not to do that. she just does.

he both loves and hates that she does.

steve’s on the couch in the living room again, moved back downstairs when he realized sleep wasn’t coming tonight. he’s sitting right where eddie had looked at him and rejected him. right where eddie had decided steve wasn’t worth the trouble. even in the privacy of his own mind, steve knows he’s not being exactly fair, but he can’t stop his thoughts from circling over what happened, over and over and over again, until the night is all smooth around the edges, all the good stuff rubbed away.

so that’s where robin finds him, wrapped in the navy comforter he’d dragged from his bed with the television glowing on mute. the house is dark and she just lets herself in like she always does.

“i take it the talk didn’t go so well,” her voice is light and steve can tell she’s trying not to add any inflection to the statement, trying hard so it doesn’t sound like a question.

“i don’t know, doesn’t every great love story start with someone storming out after the confession?” steve tries to make it a joke, to make it sound flippant, but his voice comes out flat. robin’s mouth quirks up a little any way and he knows it’s something like a pity laugh, but it does soothe the stabbing pain in his chest just a little.

“you wanna talk about it or you wanna let me take you to bed and big spoon the shit out of you?” robin reaches out to run her hand lightly through his hair, just once, before she lets it fall back into her lap. she’s wearing her pajamas, the wide leg of her flannel pants stuffed into her bright yellow rainboots, like she’d left the house in a hurry, couldn’t bother to change or find proper footwear.

steve sighs. “not a whole lot to talk about. i told him it would be kinda cool to maybe… date but he said he already told me he doesn’t really do that. and he’s right. i was just being dumb, i guess.”

“is that how you said it?” there’s a crease between her eyebrows now and she’s got that expression on her face that she always gets when she’s trying to solve a puzzle.

“i mean, not, like, word for word or whatever, but yeah, that’s the general gist of how it went.”

her expression shutters and her jaw sets. “right, well. he doesn’t have to be a super mega asshole about it.”

“he wasn’t,” steve tells her, earnestly. robin is eddie’s friend too and he doesn’t want this whole dumb thing ruining that too. they could all use all the friends they could get at this point, especially ones who get it, whatever it happens to be. “i promise. it was just… my mistake. he did tell me, from the beginning. i just misunderstood.”

robin’s face softens slightly. she reaches her hand out to lock her fingers with his and they sit there in the glow from the tv for a long moment, silent. “let’s go to sleep,” she yawns finally, standing from the couch. “everything will be better in the morning.”

~*~

robin is half wrong, but she’s also half right. things are better in the morning. steve doesn’t feel like his chest is going to cave in at every small wrong move and he doesn’t feel like crying every five seconds after his extensive cry sesh in the shower.

but eddie still isn’t there.

~*~

it’s been weeks since steve has seen eddie. steve’s not stupid. he’s aware that eddie’s actively avoiding him, despite the fact that steve has called the trailer multiple times trying to apologize. he’d left a confusingly vague message with wayne, one he’s sure had made no sense if it was even relayed to eddie at all. picking the kids up from hellfire at the wheelers is a newly torturous experience with the kids now waiting for him on the curb awkwardly instead of making steve wait an extra fifteen to twenty minutes on the wheeler’s gross plaid couch in their basement that perpetually smells like corn chips. everyone seems to be clearly aware that something is up. he’s sure he sees sympathy in mrs. wheeler’s eyes when she waves to him from their front door, thanking him for driving the kids home.

steve’s not exactly sure where it all went wrong. he knows now that he’d blindsided eddie; it was more than apparent now that eddie hadn’t even thought about what he was doing or how steve was feeling. steve spent hours thinking about eddie every day and it was clear now that that was not reciprocated. which is fine, he guesses, but he had thought he and eddie were friends first. they’d saved the world together after all. that tended to bond people forever, he’d assumed, just simply based on his relationships with robin and dustin and even nancy. he hadn’t really accounted for losing eddie completely. but steve was clearly fucking clueless when it came to eddie munson, so maybe he’d actually been wrong about everything all along.

he ping pongs back and forth between feelings of self-pity mixed with self flagellation and feelings of intense, white-hot anger at eddie. one minute, he’s sure this is all his fault, that he really is the dumbest person on planet earth and he definitely deserves to have people leave him constantly when he’s so fucking stupid all the time, can’t even keep his stupid fucking mouth shut and his stupid ugly feelings to himself for one time in his stupid fucking life. the next, he starts to blame eddie for what happened instead, blames him for not understanding steve at all. it’s eddie’s fault for not seeing what was right in front of his stupid fucking face. but after a couple of minutes of that, he’s back to being certain it really was his fault after all.

so after almost a month of no returned phone calls, no surprise visits at work just to say “hey” because eddie couldn’t sit around all day waiting for steve to get off his shift, no casual touches as they chat while eddie packs up his dnd gear, steve finally takes the massive fucking hint for what it is and stops calling. he begs jonathan to pick the kids up from hellfire, lying about a new shift schedule at work. he refuses to drive the kids anywhere that eddie might potentially be, even when the kids insist eddie really won’t be there. he’s trying so hard to convince himself that actually he’s the one avoiding eddie and not the other way around. he’s barely even hanging out with robin anymore, besides work. she seems to get that he needs time alone right now though. steve’s never been more grateful for a platonic soul mate.

but after this long, agonizing month of constantly rearranging his own life to help someone else avoid him, steve’s exhausted. he’s been having more nightmares than usual, ones where the people he loves all take turns dying in his arms. it’s a wednesday when he finally has the night off and he decides to treat himself with sixteen candles and a pizza. he orders his pie and fifteen minutes later he’s pulling his wallet from his pocket before answering the knock on the door.

“what do i owe you?” he asks after the door swings open. he’s got his eyes on his wallet in his hands, fingers moving over the bills folded together.

“oh, um,” a familiar voice stutters. steve’s eyes snap up. “i—“

steve feels like he can’t get any air for a minute. eddie’s just standing on his front step, staring.

steve’s throat feels dry. he has to swallow a few times before he can get any words out, but eddie beats him to it anyway.

“can we, uh. talk?” eddie looks nervous, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. steve steps out of the way, silently letting eddie pass him on his way into the house. the door swings shut and it’s the loudest sound steve’s ever heard in his life.

they stand in the small foyer with its huge ceilings and steve can feel the cold of the tiles through his thin socks. eddie makes no move to enter further into the house, so neither does he. steve shifts on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest, suddenly uncomfortable in the silence of his own home.

“i’m sorry,” steve says quietly, after a long stretch of silence that makes it clear eddie’s not actually about to speak. eddie’s eyes keep flitting around the small space, landing everywhere but steve’s face. eddie shrugs, looking over steve’s shoulder into the kitchen behind him.

“it’s not—“ eddie shakes his head, cutting himself off. steve wants desperately to hear how he’d finish that sentence. almost as desperately as he doesn’t.

“i ruined it.” steve runs his hand through his hair. “i tried calling the trailer… to apologize. left a couple messages with wayne but.” he shrugs.

eddie grunts. steve wishes he knew how to make this better. he can’t tell if the grunt means eddie got his messages or not. he’d thought he was good at deciphering eddie’s noises by now.

“look,” steve says, finally frustrated with the whole thing. “we were kind of friends before we started… hooking up or whatever. i get that you wanted something casual and that i ruined it. i get that i fucked it up and i made you uncomfortable and—i just get it, okay? you didn’t do anything wrong. you were always honest. i was just seeing what i wanted to see and i let myself believe something that wasn’t real. so. i would really like for us to be friends again. i hate this, eddie. it really sucks. i don’t like not seeing you around. i just—this sucks.”

eddie nods, swallowing thickly, but he doesn’t really seem like he’s hearing steve.

“yeah,” eddie finally agrees. “this sucks.”

steve gets the sense that eddie means more than just this whole dumb thing between them, but he’s trying not to be in the business of making assumptions about what eddie means anymore.

“i have a pizza coming,” steve sighs. “if you want to stay?” he can’t help but feel hopeful and he knows this is too much, to invite eddie to stay when they haven’t even really made up yet, but he doesn’t know how to fix this. he’s never been good at this.

eddie glances into the living room and steve’s not entirely sure what he sees or what he imagines, but he watches as eddie swallows again, eyes darting quickly to steve’s face, just once, before he gives his head a small shake. “no, i don’t—i should go. but we’ll see each other, okay, harrington?” and he says it like a question but steve thinks he knows it’s not really a question at all. steve will see eddie any time, anywhere, whenever eddie asks.

steve tries to smile before shuffling toward the door and watching eddie go.

~*~

it’s another ten minutes before his pizza even gets there and when it does, steve’s feeling even more sorry for himself than he has in the last month since he’d asked eddie out. he makes it halfway through the movie and the pizza before he starts to consider calling robin. it’s been a while since they’ve just hung out and that’s been entirely steve’s fault. she hasn’t said anything because she knows steve inside and out, but steve is really missing her right now.

he’s just about ready to pull on his shoes and pick up the phone to tell robin he’s on his way to get her when there’s a knock at the door. half of him is confused, the other half is convinced it must be robin, having sensed his desire for her company. he stands and makes his way to the door, a half smile on his face as he swings it open for the third time tonight.

“look, what happened before is not why i came here, so wait and just let me talk and then you can say whatever you want but if you don’t let me just get this out, i’m never going to say it and i… you deserve to hear it so i need to say it, for real, right now,” eddie’s practically panting as he pushes past steve.

“um okay,” steve tries to get out but eddie glares at him.

“shut up, shut up for real, okay.” eddie crouches down in the foyer of steve’s house, his head in his hands between his knees. his voice comes out a little muffled, but steve can still hear him pretty clearly. “you didn’t ruin anything. you didn’t. really. i ruined it. i ruined a really good thing.”

steve feels like his chest is being hollowed out but he bites his lip, desperate not to interrupt.

eddie groans and steve can see his fingers tense and release in his own hair. “you were so sweet, on the couch. the last time.” he says it like steve could’ve forgotten and steve feels a blush rise on his cheeks. “you… you looked so soft and gooey and hopeful and i—i fucked it up. because back when this whole thing started, it seemed like a miracle that you’d even look at me. like. you’re… you and i’m just me. what the fuck.” eddie laughs almost hysterically. steve feels his fingernails cutting into his own palms with how hard he’s trying to stay still and silent. eddie still hasn’t looked up from where he’s holding himself tight. “and it kept happening and happening and happening and i—i’ve never… i’ve never.”

“oh,” steve can’t help but breathe out in surprise.

eddie shakes his head a little, seems to forget himself and look up and then he’s just staring at steve’s face. he swallows again and steve can see his hands shake. “no, i mean, i’ve… but never… more than once. never all the time.” now that eddie’s looked steve in the eyes, he can’t seem to look away. his eyes look so huge and glassy from where he looks up at steve from his place on the floor. steve feels his heart clench. his fingertips ache. “never like that.” steve nods. “and then you didn’t leave. you didn’t run or pretend it didn’t happen. and you let me pretend it was something it wasn’t, like we weren’t… like it wasn’t… important.” steve’s brows furrow in confusion. “because i was lying. obviously. of course i was. it wasn’t casual. you’d never be casual. not for me.”

“i don’t—“ steve suddenly can’t breathe.

“wait. please.” eddie’s eyes go soft around the edges. “i fucked it up, stevie, because i was lying the whole time. and i thought you were just letting me lie because… i don’t know. i don’t know why, because i know it wasn’t casual for you either. it was all over you. and that was really, really scary.” steve falls to his knees on the foyer tiles, vaguely aware of the dull ache, before sliding closer to where eddie is crouched. he whimpers, just a little, when eddie holds out his palm, presses it to the center of steve’s chest to keep him from getting too close. “hold on, baby, i just. i have to say it, please. gimme a second, i’m just…” eddie gives his head another small shake, as if he’s trying to clear it. “i’m sorry, i guess, is what it really all comes down to. i’m sorry i let you think you weren’t important. i only realized you didn’t know that night on the couch and i… i guess i saw some plausible deniability. a way to walk away without getting, like, totally annihilated. and that’s, you know. my whole issue.” eddie swallows again, hand fisting into the fabric of steve’s shirt. “i was scared. i ran. because… because i love you, stevie. i was falling in love with you this whole time and trying to act like i wasn’t. because i was an idiot. and i couldn’t be the one to break first. but what a stupid, fucked up way to think about it, huh? i love you, man, and you deserve to hear it and feel it and have it, is really what i’m trying to say. i just love you.”

somewhere in all of that, eddie had used his grip on steve’s shirt to pull him in closer so their noses are practically touching. steve can feel the prickle of tears in his own eyes, can feel eddie’s breath on his lips.

“you love me?” even steve can hear how incredulous his own voice sounds.

eddie huffs out a laugh and steve can feel it on his skin. “yeah, dude. of course i do. how could i not?”

“dude,” steve repeats, cause like… really?

“is that all you have to say?” eddie slides his nose along steve’s, nuzzling, skin warm. steve’s eyelids go heavy.

“you left me hanging for, like, a month, bro,” steve tries to joke, but his voice sounds too breathless.

“yeah,” eddie murmurs. “i’m so sorry, baby. can i kiss you?”

and all steve can do is nod.

~*~

the next morning, steve wakes up to soft sunlight filtering in through the blinds he forgot to close last night. he feels hazy, all syrupy and warm, before he bolts upright in his bed. or tries to. because just as he’s moving, he notices the heavy presence on his right arm.

“too early,” eddie groans, shuffling naked under the covers. “turn it off.”

“turn what off? the sun?” steve smiles as he turns to spoon his equally naked body behind eddie. he drops a kiss to eddie’s bare shoulder.

“mmhmm,” eddie hums, and steve can hear the smile in it.

“hey,” steve says, before they both fall back into sleep for a few more minutes. “i love you, too, by the way.”

“oh yeah, by the way?” eddie snorts.

“better than ‘i love you, dude.’”

“oh, you think so?” eddie shifts in steve’s arms until he’s somehow gotten on top of steve, holding steve’s wrists above his head. steve can’t help but thrust his hips upwards in eddie’s direction. “yeah, okay,” eddie concedes, breathless, grinding his own hips downward. “you’re right. whatever you say, beautiful. can’t argue with that. super compelling argument.”

steve has to kiss him just to shut him up.

#steddie #is it casual now? steddie au #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #steddie blurb #steve x eddie #steddie au #steddie angst #i haven’t slept and also a little high rn so if there are typos don’t tell me lol

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rinhaler · 6 months

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I Finally Decided On You

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ ⁭rin itoshi x f!reader

Genre: smut & angst Notes: in my feelings abt a friendship break up so have some angst heheheee Warnings: 18+, mutual pining, angst, pet names, cheating, dacryphilia, tit sucking ♡, vaginal sex, choking ♡, love bites, breeding kink, creampie ♡ Words: 5.8k

“You’re lonely, aren’t you?”

Your breath hitches as the words make their way into your brain. His eyes have been fixed on you for what seems like a lifetime, but it’s only after you hear him ask something so personal, so intimate, that you can bring yourself to look at him. His glimmering, jade eyes are so striking, so captivating, you can’t help but want to bare your soul to him.

“You shouldn’t ask me something like that.” you whisper, unable to hide your smile as you are both all too aware of the irony of your sentence. There are so many things neither of you should be doing right now.

And yet, here you are, allowing the 4am sky to encase your bodies in a melancholic blanket. You’re waiting for one more sentence to spill from his lips that will have your deepest secrets tumbling from yours.

You know him.

He knows you.

And it’s so comforting.

You’ve never felt like this with anyone before. He’s so easy to talk to, and even easier to be around. It’s almost like a punishment. The worlds cruellest joke that you’re being subjected to.

“You shouldn’t be in my bed, but you’re here. So, talk to me.” he smiles, effortlessly. A smile that he’d only ever show you. An expression that only you are worthy of and the only person he’d ever trust to experience it. It’s so loving. It’s like being home.

You’re quiet, your own smile fading slightly as you think about his question. What had you done to make him even ask it? You’re lonely. Is that true? You have friends, family, a lover. Realistically, you can’t be lonely.

“I am.” you tell him, honestly, finally finding his gaze once more. Allowing him to scan your trusting eyes so he can see there isn’t a trace of a lie. And he does, stare, until he looks at your lips briefly, and then back to your eyes.

“You’re lonely?”

“Yes.”

He hums, thinking about it for a moment. You don’t deserve to feel that way. Though it may be his heart talking. It might be the fact that he’s head over heels in love with you.

Every moment with you is so saccharine, so disgustingly dizzying that it could make him vomit from excess. He can’t get enough of you. He’s ravenous for you.

Your taste.

Each kiss you allow him to take is so seraphic, your candied lips cloying his insides. It hurts to be with you sometimes, he knows what this is and what it will be. He knows what he is to you and what he will never be. He hates himself, and honestly, he hates you a little bit in that same breath. Though he locks that feeling of loathing deep down inside, he doesn’t want to feel it. He doesn’t want to care that much.

Whatever you are to each other now, in this moment, is enough.

His face nears yours, and you observe him as his eyes close. Yours close too, gently, and you feel his lips on yours. His hand cups your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as he deepens the kiss only slightly. He pulls away, eyes glittering as he observes you. He’s making sure you’re okay, that what he just did was okay.

And it is.

He pulls you closer to him, enveloping your body in his before carefully planting his lips on your cheek. He sighs, a little. The heavy, disheartened breath rushing through your ear canal. It makes you shudder, so he holds you tighter.

“You aren’t alone, you know.” he tells you, quietly. You feel tears pricking at your eyes as he starts speaking. He cares, so much, you can almost feel his passion vibrating from his skin and passing through you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know.” you sniffle. “It’s just hard.”

“I know.” he agrees, kissing atop your head as a show of comfort. He just can’t get enough of you. He can’t stop himself from being with you like this, even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t. These moments with you are his main source of happiness. Getting to know you so viscerally is everything to him. Whenever you’re together, like this, he gets to peel back another layer of who you are.

“I’m so—” you stop, your eyes catching his again before you brush away the thought. You’re playing with fire, with him. You’re letting him scrutinize your body as you bare your self-inflicted gaping wounds. Allowing him to decide whether to pour alcohol and salt into your ruined flesh. “I’m just sick of feeling like shit all of the time.” you sigh a little before laughing.

“Don’t.” he huffs, his thumb stroking your face again. It’s a bid to make your body submit to his. “I don’t like it when you perform for me.”

You smile, again, nodding in acceptance as you take his word as truth. It makes sense why he isn’t fond of you acting for him, though for some reason you can’t seem to help yourself. Wrapping your body in an invisible gauze as you do all that you can to prevent your lacerated skin from becoming infected by him.

“Rin?” you whisper again, almost hoping he won’t have heard you say his name. “Do you love me?”

The question almost wounds him. You see his eyes begin to tremor as he wonders if you want him to answer that. And answer it genuinely. He rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Your bodies are mirrored up above, and he can’t help but stare at his own reflection as he contemplates how to answer. His heart skips a beat when you inch closer to him, wrapping an arm around his torso as you caress him and await his response.

He hates how little effort you need to make to force him to smile.

“Yeah.” he tells you. But he doesn’t look at you, still staring at himself in the mirror above. It’s a confession for him as well as you. “I’m in love with you. Is that okay?”

Of course he’s asking for permission to love you. Though even if you were to say no, it’s not like he could just stop his feelings. It isn’t okay, of course it isn’t. Nothing about what you’re doing is okay. Whatever you’re not meant to do always makes you feel most alive. It makes you feel excited. And right now, you feel wanted. You feel loved.

You don’t feel lonely.

You’re quiet for a moment, but you hope the smile you’re donning will show that you’re appreciative of his honesty. It takes you a while to think about how to respond. You could say it back, but what good will it do? If you don’t say anything, you’re sure he’ll be upset, but he won’t tell you that. You don’t want to hurt him, that’s the last thing you want.

“Thank you.” you tell him.

He doesn’t say anything to that. He closes his eyes, a soft chuckle emanating from him as he processes the rejection. In his mind, that smart, logical mind of his, he knew you wouldn’t say it back. Why would you? Even if it was true, it’s too messy. It’s a disaster waiting to happen, you both know it, so why would you say it back? But then again, why would you ask his feelings in the first place? His heart is screaming at him with every aggressive beat against his ribcage. It’s telling him, despite the logic working overtime in his brain, that you love him too.

“Do you love me?” he wonders, finally allowing his head to roll to the side again so that you’re making eye contact once more.

And you’re silent. You can see in his eyes that he’s pleading with you to reciprocate his feelings. To verbalise them. He wants you to mean it, though. He’d rather you not say a word than lie to him.

But, he knows you.

He knows your mind body and soul and he truly believes that you feel the same way about him. So tell him, won’t you? Lay your heart bare and just tell him the truth. No matter what the world throws at you, he’s certain you can handle it, together. Whatever concerns you have, he’ll protect you. Any repercussions you think will follow you from following your heart, he won’t allow. He’ll do anything for you. Anything to be with you. So look into his emerald eyes and be honest with him.

Be honest with yourself.

“Please,” you start, “please never ask me that again.”

The words cut like a knife. Or rather, he feels like he stopped existing the moment you finish your sentence. It’s like being in a car accident and dying on impact. He looks up at the ceiling again, closing his eyes, knowing the tears are soon to pour from them if he doesn’t get a grip.

Why would you say that?

You still haven’t given a clear answer. And really, he knows why you said what you did. It’s self-preservation. Maybe you think you’re protecting him, too. But you aren’t. You’re the reason his heart beats and this is the reason that it will stop. Every moment from now will be agony. Without an answer, you’ve given him one. And he despises you, now. He thinks you’re selfish.

He thinks you’re a fucking coward.

“Then… what is this?” he wonders, still not daring to widen his eyes and give you the satisfaction of seeing him cry. You can barely stand to look at him now though. Not when he’s being like this. You don’t want to hurt him, truly. But there’s no use in giving him hope that isn’t there. This is for the best, you’re sure. “Have you just been using me for the last two years? When you’re… fucking lonely.” his own breath hitches and he wants to disappear. From your line of sight, from the room, from the fucking planet.

“It’s not like that, Rin.” you sigh, and it’s almost breathless as you try and conjure the right words to alleviate his pain. There’s nothing you can say that won’t hurt. The damage is done. You’ve broken him. “You know the first time was a mistake… and then it just kept happening… and then—”

“And then you—” he balls up his fists until his arms begin to tremble. But he takes a breath, anger leaving him as he exhales. He’s always been good at that. He always knows when he’s getting too worked up and knows how to take it down a notch and compose himself. He’s calculated with everything he does. But he supposes you’re the exception. There was nothing calculated in regard to you. He fell into this fucking mess with you, because it’s you. “… Don’t you think the fact we’ve been making the same ‘mistake’ for so long means it might not be a mistake.” he talks, quietly. You can’t tell if he’s asking you a question or simply speaking words for you to hear.

You don’t answer. What can you say? You can’t contradict yourself now. It’s a valid point, of course. Is a repeated mistake truly a mistake? Maybe you and he are made for each other. Being with him could be easy, if you wanted. Being honest with yourselves and those around you might be easier than you think. Being able to hold his hand and go out on dates like a normal couple. Could it really be so simple?

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” you respond, bluntly. It’s harsh. The words make your mouth swell with discomfort and a horrendous desire to burst into tears. Nothing else will get through to him, you think. Being nice is getting neither of you anywhere. You gulp, and it’s like swallowing razor blades as you see how fucking shattered his face becomes.

He scoffs, a little, and sits upright in bed. You chase him, somewhat, sitting upright beside him and placing your hand on his shoulder. And you gasp, quietly, as he shrugs away from your touch. Your defeated hands fall into your lap as you continue to sit beside him, your eyes alternate from looking at his side profile to your twiddling thumbs.

Rejection was always bound to come eventually. He wishes he never opened his mouth, though. The delusion could have carried on a little while longer. Why did you have to ask if he loved you? You surely knew already. His mind roars at him to run. He’s staring at his sneakers placed meticulously by his wardrobe as he thinks about where he could go. Anywhere away from here.

Away from you.

But the child in him… is resilient. He’s never been one to accept true defeat. He’s never been the type to give up on his dreams or quit when he truly believes there is a chance at happiness for him. You see his hand move to his obscured cheek, and you’re sure he’s wiping away a tear.

It’s all but confirmed when he looks at you. Teal eyes almost illuminate the room as they look at you. Crystalline droplets reside in his lashline, and his eyes keep shimmering as they take in every solitary detail of your beguiling face. He can’t lose you. You’re perfect for him.

And he loves you.

He leans towards you, and you don’t fight it. Your lips slotting beautifully against one another as you melt into his kiss. It’s prolonged and it’s deep. You feel as though he’s giving you everything he has. Everything he is as a final farewell. The thought of never seeing him again makes you break away, panting desperately before you comb his hair out of his face.

“What are you doing, Rin?” you whisper.

This time you’re left without an answer. He grips his fingers into your soft hips and helps you move above him, straddling him so that he can look up into the eyes of the woman he loves more than he ever has or will love anyone.

“Play with my hair, please.” he whispers back against your bare skin as he lifts your tank top to expose your breasts. You do as he asks, combing your fingers through his hair again as he sweetly kisses your erect nipples. The only sound filling the room is his puckered kisses and your laboured breaths.

You hum, intoxicated, as kisses turn to suckles. They’re soft and careful, your skin breaks out in bumps as your flesh tries to huddle together to keep in the warmth. Your heart skips a beat when he looks up at you, briefly, before focusing on your tits again. He wraps his arms tightly around your torso in a bid to pull you closer. Your cotton-clad mound humping against his straining cock in the process.

He grunts against your skin when he feels the wetness pooling on your panties transferring to his boxers. One of his hand roams to squeeze the fat of your ass, a squeaking yelp escapes you as you feel thick bruising fingers dig into your supple flesh. He gentle nibbles your swollen tits, eliciting a mewl from you that speaks to your infatuation with him. Whether you care to admit it or not, he knows your body enough to understand the truth.

“Rin,” you shudder, throwing your head back in an attempt to gain some distance from what is happening and retrieve your thoughts. He doesn’t stop, though. But his eyes meet yours again when you return. He’s listening. He’s clinging to your every thought. “I-Is this really what you want?” you ask him. And he nods, slowly, relinquishing one nipple from his mouth with a pop and licking his cherry bitten lips.

“’m not a mistake, baby…” he tells you in hushed tones before sucking your neglected nipple momentarily. He means it, too. You don’t think he’s a mistake. In truth, you think the world of Rin Itoshi. You wish you met at a different time. Things could be how you both want them to be. But this is how things are. You feel tears you hadn’t given permission begin to roll down your cheeks as you think about how lowly he views himself because of you. You are a fucking coward, you always have been. “I can be right for you, princess. I can.”

You hear him sniff a little before he continues making out with your aching tits. And you push his hair out of his face again, getting a perfect view of his lusciously long eyelashes. You can’t see his pretty green eyes from this angle, they’re focused intently on your chest. But his eyes snap to your when he hears you sniffling too.

“Rin… I-Is this—?”

“Do you want to do that thing you like?” he asks, breath fanning over your spit soaked tits as he snaps you from your thoughts. He encourages you to move a little as he hooks his fingers into your panties and tries to pull them down your legs. It’s clumsy, and it makes you laugh as you shuffle around awkwardly until they’re off. And he throws them across the room before your lips crash together again.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you kiss him. He swallows your moans like they’re holy and he’s fucking greedy. He manages to snake his hand between your bodies to free his length. And your vision strays to see it. His gorgeous, pretty cock. It’s beautiful and pink, though the darkness of the room hides it well. You know it from memory by now. But you can’t mistake the drooling precum leaking from his slit and down his shaft as he strokes his length at a steady pace while he kisses you again.

But you break it once more.

“You like it… you like it, too.” you smile, thinking back to what he’d asked you moments ago. He smirks against your lips, kissing you again before looking down at his length as he attempts to guide it into your heat.

“That’s right.” he nods, licking his lips. “’n it feels the best when you ride me… so sit on it.” he commands. He clenches his teeth as his tip sits comfortably in your sticky interior. You’re so tight and wrap around him so heavenly. As though you’re made solely for him. In his mind, though, that’s exactly what you are. He hisses, eagerly, as he feels the conflicting constrict of your cunt tightening and releasing repeatedly as he remains there. It’s like you aren’t sure if you’re trying to suck him in further or push him out completely.

His fingers curl around your dainty wrist, guiding your hand to his neck and encouraging you to squeeze. You do, softly, and you can’t help but smile when he laughs breathily.

“Sit on it, princess. S’all yours.”

The squeeze becomes tighter as you slowly sink on his length. Your jaw drops willingly as you moan through the stretch. And Rin, God, he’s fucking beautiful. His eyes roll over white as your pussy envelops him until you feel his pretty tip nudge your g-spot. You kiss his cheek. Again, and again and again until his vision returns to you.

He likes it. No, he loves it. But only because it’s you. He’s been with plenty of women, but he’s never been in love. He’s had feelings for partners, but never love. He can’t imagine letting any of them choke him the way you do. It makes him heady, but only because it’s you. The first time you did it he wanted to protest, to tell you in no uncertain terms that he isn’t interested in that kind of thing. But the word no could barely escape his lips before he came inside you after you squeezed the sides of his neck oh so deliciously.

“F-uck, Rinnie…” you moan as you start to rock your hips against him. His hands gently hold your waist and help you in your efforts, your breath catching in your throat as your clit catches against his pubis and trimmed hairs. “You’re s-so deep. Feel you h-here…” you point to your lower abdomen as you carry on rocking against him, your grip on his neck easing as you feel pleasure begin to surge through your nervous system.

He's speechless, though. He knows he’s big and doesn’t feel a need to reiterate it. Instead, he pushes his palm flat against your tummy as you continue to get yourself off. You moan, louder. Drool forming in the corner of your mouth as you keep going and going until your legs begin to give. And he pities you, he does. So much so that he holds your hips tightly and helps you rise and fall on the full length of his cock again and again.

Each impale is rapturous. The pleasure is fucking blinding as his heavy tip slams repeatedly against your sensitive soft insides and you mewl blaringly, no care or consideration for neighbours that might be trying to get a full eight hours before that dreaded sunrise approaches any minute now. You can’t possibly care, not when a cock so perfectly made to mould the shape and ridges of your pussy to suit it’s domineering size is ruining you so divinely.

“Don’t stop.” he reminds you, his hand covering and squeezing your own around his willing neck, encouraging you to persevere. The way your clutching fingers hug the column of his throat is beauty personified. Like a scene from a renaissance painting before your very eyes. And his eyes are blown to hell, full of lust, “harder.” he smirks, greedily. And you always do as you’re told. You want to be good for him after being so cruel. You want to please him after being so cold. You want to love him after being so harsh.

“I—” you start, your words becoming trapped in your throat as your cowardice springs to the forefront of your mind. Though, is it really cowardice? Or is it just the right decision for both of you? For peace of mind and an easy life, it is.

“Yeah?” his eyes practically glitter in expectation as he awaits your sentence to be brought to completion. You are cruel, cold and harsh. Because you’ve gotten his hopes up yet again. And you can’t have that, you just can’t.

“I’m, c-close…” you alert him. His eyes widen in surprise. It hasn’t been so long since you started. Are you lying? He can usually tell. He studies your face and feels the way your cunt constricts around his length as you draw near your demise. You’re honest, only sometimes.

“N-N.. uh… can you hold it? F-For me, princess?” he asks, pleads, really, if his watery eyes are anything to go by. You aren’t sure you can, but you nod anyway. You’ll try your damndest, for him, anything for him.

He manoeuvres you carefully onto your back so you’re lying beneath him. You remain wrapped around him the entire time, like he can’t bear to be apart from you for even a second. You can’t blame him, either, you don’t want to remember what life feels like without him snug inside of your welcoming cunt.

His eyes roam your body as he cages you in below him. Emerald jewels taking in each and every inch of your perfectly bare skin. Every detail, every crevice and pore. It’s all so beautiful to him, and hasn’t become a boring sight to behold in the entire two years you’ve been doing this.

Both of your hands cradle his head, fingers interlocking through the back of his hair. He looks into your eyes and you can’t help but smile. This is how your life should be. When you see how much love pours from his eyes as he looks at you, you know this is how things are meant to be. But it’s a shame, they aren’t. You feel your heart break in two as reality crashes around you once again. But he leans down to kiss you, silently asking your permission to keep going.

“Please, Rin.” you nod.

“Okay, I’ve got you.” he kisses your neck as he begins to shallowly thrust into you again. You mewl softly as you feel him suckle the skin covering your clavicle, and it’s sure to bruise, but you don’t care. You’re sick of caring, now. You just want to feel this. Enjoy this moment. You want to enjoy Rin.

He pushes your thighs gently, spurring you to wrap your legs around his hips in a bid for you to hug him tightly. You hook your feet against one another, and you feel like a koala clinging onto a tree. You don’t mind though. You feel safe, like this. A safety you’ve never felt from anyone at any time. He’ll keep you safe, always, because he loves you. All he wants in this moment is for you to feel good and for him to be the reason. You cock your head, curiously. And he wastes no time satiating your lust with a kiss.

Your moans feel suffocating as your throat swells with the desperate need to share them with him. But you can’t. Not when he’s pressing his lips to yours and trying to inhale your every breath and any other offering you can muster for him. He can’t let you go for even a second, he thinks. This is all he has. He needs to remember.

He looks upset when you turn your head to break the kiss, but his thrusting doesn’t cease. They slow, however. Opting to fuck you deeper. He wants to explore depths in your cute cunt that neither of you know even existed.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, voice quiet but laced with concern. It’s hard to even think as his thrusts seem to be whisking your brain into a pink mushy paste.

“I can’t—” you pant, “hold it… m-much longer!” you warn him.

“Oh.” he chuckles, and burrows his head into the crook of your neck. He kisses. Sucks. Makes it known that you’ve been with him. A final bid to make you his, though it will surely amount to nothing. “That’s okay, let go, baby…” he tells you.

You bite your lip. A momentary gesture before you find your pleasure crescendo from his faithful pace. He kisses sweetly along your jawline, humping into you hard enough that there is a steady slapping resounding through the bedroom. You note how the sun seems to rise and birds begin to chirp as you topple over the edge of your orgasm.

He could bathe in your sweet moans for the rest of his life, he thinks. They seem to harmonise with the birds singing outside. Your fingers dig and claw into his shoulder blades as you don’t let up. It’s all so tantalizing, a song he’d happily play on repeat for the rest of his miserable life if he could.

You clamp around him and feel a swell of pride in your chest as you hear him moan for you, too. Your cunt floods with warmth and you’ve never felt so wanted. Part of him wishes you weren’t on birth control. Part of him wishes that it would fail so that there’s a reason he can truly make you his. But he knows he isn’t that lucky. And he knows it’s wrong to want those things, too. He doesn’t even want a kid, really.

He just wants a reason to keep you.

Your chest heaves as he collapses on top of you, hugging you closely. You fear that your sweaty bodies may meld together permanently, until the breeze from the open window rolls in. Cooling your dampened skin slowly but surely. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, though. Being stuck to him. There’s always fantastical ideas conjured from absurd imaginations that give you cause to be together. It’s the only way, you think.

It can’t be as simple as you want to be together.

You can’t just love each other so much you can be together.

You need a reason.

A very good fucking reason.

“Are we going to be okay, Rinnie? Things haven’t changed, right?” you ask him, almost scared to speak but not enough to stop the flow of your words. You feel his body tense up, and at that point you know things have indeed changed. But change can be good… you might just be delusional, though.

“I’m going to shower.” he says, coldly, peeling his body from yours. And it stings. He couldn’t give you an answer, and you know that translates to him only having an answer you won’t like. He’s cruel, mostly, but never with you. With other people he can be rude and mean. But he’d rather be silent than do that to you. And it hurts. Fuck, it hurts. It’s all such a mess and everything is fucking ruined. “… are you coming?” he asks, looking back at you as he heads towards the bathroom.

And there it is.

The flame of hope he can never truly let die when it comes to you.

Your eyes flicker open, the room fully bathed in the light of the mid-morning sun. Rin is sitting at the edge of his bed. Legs covered by grey joggers and his torso bare. The shadows and light contrasting each other and painting an alluring portrait of toned musculature across his back. He shields it from you, though, as he pulls a t-shirt over his head.

He stands up, collecting the towel he dropped on the floor as he got changed. And that’s when he sees you’re finally awake again. He curses himself when he smiles at you, still unable to believe how easily you can make him do so.

“How was your nap?” he asks, calmly, tossing the towel expertly into his laundry bin.

“I don’t even remember falling asleep…” you admit.

Though you do remember cuddling into his side after your shower. Your towel is loose around your body, the one wrapped around your hair is crumpled up atop your pillows. He didn’t sleep a wink, he savoured the feeling of you clinging onto him like you might actually love him. But his mind was also plagued by the future. About what happens next. He doesn’t get nervous, usually. But now, as he looks at you in your most natural form, he’s legitimately scared. Scared of everything crashing down around him.

“I… your clothes.” he tilts his head, gesturing to the folded clothes on your bedside cabinet. You thank him, quickly, dropping your towel and hurriedly getting into your jeans and tank top you wore over here in the middle of the night. “I want to be with you, properly.” Rin confesses, focusing intently on his hands before daring to look up to you. Your expression is sullen, unsure of how to respond. You hadn’t expected to hear him say something so bold, not after what you said to him earlier. But you suppose he’s had time to think.

“I just don’t know what you want me to say, Rin.” you sigh, shaking your fingers through your still damp hair. Little droplets flying to the wood floor below.

“I want you to tell the truth… I know you love me. I know you’re just scared. I know you want to be with me, too. I don’t get why you’re doing this. I don’t know why you’re punishing yourself… or me.” he approaches you, walking around the bottom of the bed and grabbing your shoulders with fervour as he wills you to be honest for the first time in your life.

“No.” you shake your head and move away from him. “It isn’t right, you know it isn’t.”

“It’s not right? I’ve loved you for two years and you’re telling me that’s wrong? And I know you feel the fucking same, so please, please baby—”

“I have to go, I can’t do this.” you feel fresh tears roll down your face as you begin to search for your purse. You feel like your fucking heart is going to explode. And he doesn’t bother hiding his upset, either. Because he’s made up his mind.

“This was goodbye, then.” he informs you, and your movements halt as you look at him.

“What?”

“I’m not being this… joke. I’m not going to be your shoulder to cry on when you’re lonely. I’m not going to fuck you, you can’t just come here when you feel like it. I’m done, I can’t do it.” he takes a deep breath as he finishes, knowing that this is really over. It’s killing him. “I love you, and it hurts. This really hurts. But you’re not the girl I thought you were. I thought you were kind and I know you love me too and that’s why it’s fucking— I feel like I’m dying. I don’t get why you’re denying yourself of this.”

You sigh, slipping your feet into your white slides and trying to fight back tears. He thinks everything is so simple. He thinks you can both just live a fairy tale life and be happy, but that isn’t realistic. He isn’t being realistic and maybe that’s your fault. You thought you’d been clear about what this is between you. You hadn’t intended to make him feel used. You didn’t want to hurt him and you didn’t want things to end like this.

“Okay.” you shrug, fingers grasping the door handle as you prepare to leave.

“What’s so fucking special about Sae?” he sobs, quietly. You can’t bear to look at him. Your heart is already breaking and you know looking at his defeated face will give your vital organ cause to split into quarters. “As kids, he was always better at football. He’s older, he’s the favourite. But he doesn’t even treat you right, he doesn’t love you. I do, I love you so what’s so special about him, princess?” he drops his weight onto the bed below, sitting on the edge again as he wills you to face him. His stomach ravaged by butterflies as he waits for an answer. Any kind of answer that will give him some clarity.

“Nothing’s special about him, Rin…” you sigh, again, giving into his desire and offering him the eye contact he craved. “I just met him two years and a few days before I met you.” you sniffle loudly before hurrying out of the door, slamming it behind you unintentionally as you run to the elevator.

He lets his head fall into his hands as he begins to bawl. The knowledge finally setting in that this is really the end of this chapter of his life. The story of you and him is complete and the ending is fucking devastating. He rests his head against the wet pillows you’d left in such a hurry. The scent of your lotions and perfume still clinging to them. And he cries more, covering his face entirely with his hands.

He’ll always lose to Sae, that much is clear.

If only he’d met you first.

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fengxun · 6 months

Text

HEART SHAKER! – YONE X READER

Yone usually regrets saying yes to what Kayn or Ezreal rope him in, but this time around, he doesn’t regret it at all.

CONTENT.⠀Idol AU. Gender-neutral reader. Tooth-rotting fluff, first dates, hopeful ending because Yone deserves happiness. Requested by @fictionfordays. Hope you enjoy! ~1.3k words

CROSS-POSTED ON AO3 / @angelshub @bitchcraftinc

Yone thinks he’s too old to be putting up with whatever shenanigans Kayn and Ezreal keep pulling him into.

Between promotions, interviews, production, and taking care of the group, he’s dedicated the majority of his time to being responsible and ensuring everything is in tip-top shape. He’s not unfamiliar with having responsibility be the key pillar in his life. Since he was a child, he took it upon himself to be someone his younger brother could look up to. He did everything he could to help his parents, working himself to the bone to ensure his family’s comfort. Not much has changed even when he’s become an idol.

Despite his weariness on some days, he can’t deny that he’s grown fond of his fellow members. He’ll put up with Aphelios’ pranks, Kayn’s ‘forgetfulness’ in doing his chores, Ezreal’s little jokes, and whatever else his life in HEARTSTEEL brings him. He supposes it’s why he found himself saying yes to Ezreal’s idea of a blind date.

Indulging in a silly idea once is harmless, he thinks. Maybe if he just went along, it’ll sate Ezreal enough to leave him be for a while. As happy (well, not really) as he is to indulge in his friend’s antics, he’d also prefer it if Ezreal didn’t bring up the idea every other day. And even if this is just to keep his all-too-enthusiastic friend at bay, he’s also not one to do things halfheartedly. For the first time since his audition, Yone is somewhat nervous.

Meeting new people isn’t all too familiar. He always greets his seniors, juniors, staff, or anyone he may come across on the job. But this isn’t a job, it’s something meant to potentially spark romance in his life which is far from professional. He hasn’t even been on a regular date. He’s well aware of what it usually entails, but he’s never actively sought out this sort of thing. He hopes whoever his date will be won’t feel too disappointed if he doesn’t catch their interest. He knows they’re Ezreal’s friend, but that doesn’t quite narrow it down.

He fiddles with his face mask (for safety measures, really) as he waits for his date at the table. Thanks to Kayn, the street where the restaurant is located is completely silent save for its employees and the occasional unknowing passer-by. He’s not sure what Kayn did—in fact, he’s not even going to ask—but if it means not having to stress as much about paparazzi and overly eager fans, he’s not going to pass up the opportunity.

“Gosh, sorry I’m late—Yone?”

Said man looks up from his drink with wide eyes, surprised to see that you’re standing right in front of him. Or, more accurately, one of Ezreal’s best friends, and the fact that both of you are surprised means that the guy’s got more talent for discretion than he let on.

“Did Ezreal put you up to this?” you ask with an amused lilt, taking a seat in front of him. He nods quietly. “Hm. So that’s why he’s been so suspicious lately. Seraphine just told me she wanted me to meet a friend, but well… I didn’t think it’d be you.”

“Are you disappointed?” Yone blurts out.

The corners of your lips curl into a small smile. “No, of course not. I’m pretty happy about it, actually. But what brings you here?”

He doesn’t know you that well, he realises. While you’re always there for the group dinners or parties, he’s never had a proper conversation with you aside from simple hellos here and there. He’s not too familiar with the warmth rising in his cheeks either, but if he has to guess, it definitely has something to do with the way you’re looking at him.

“Ah, well…” He’s not sure if he should say the truth. He’s aloof, yes, but he’s not insensitive. “Ezreal thought I should try something new.”

“Hey, that makes both of us! By the way, I have the same Poro keychain! They’re really cute, aren’t they?”

He feels relieved that you seem to be carrying the conversation just fine even if he doesn’t think he’s great at it. Usually, the extroverts of HEARTSTEEL are responsible for answering interview questions. Yone’s there for the more professional and practical side of things, like speaking to other producers or the company president. As you start to talk about your day, he listens to every word and finds himself getting lost in how much he likes being in your presence. You’re more animated than he is and you still ask about his day even when he doesn’t believe it’s as interesting as yours.

He really likes that about you, he concludes.

“I forgot to mention this, but isn’t this district usually full of people? Why’s it so quiet today?” Your curious expression practically has him melting at how adorable you look. He prides himself on keeping his composure, but your presence alone is making him doubt his ability to be calm.

Yone is never nervous. The only other time he’s felt that way was when he first stepped through the company doors as a trainee. But the longer he sits here with you, his heart races and it’s getting harder to focus when you’re undoubtedly quite a perfect match for him.

(Damn that kid and his ‘super senses.’)

He clears his throat. “Kayn’s responsible for it.”

Perfect . He zoned out thinking about you when you’re right in front of him and he completely forgot to answer your question. Lucky enough, you don’t seem to mind.

“I’m… not sure I want to know the details.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t ask, either.” He chuckles. “I think it’s better not to.”

Your laughter rings beautifully like every song he’s ever loved. Everything feels new, and his thoughts are running a mile a minute, but he thinks he wants to take this jump into spontaneity and adventure with you.

“It’s getting late… I should head back. Gotta be on set early tomorrow.”

“Could we do this again?”

Your features soften into a teasing smile. “You like me already, don’t you?”

“Well, yes—”

“Of course, we can do this again,” you say gently, “I like you too, Yone. You don’t have to be so nervous around me.”

You reach over the table to take his hand in yours and he damn near short circuits at how your hand fits in so perfectly with his. He can barely process the coy glint in your eyes from how flustered he feels.

“I’ll walk you back.”

“Oh, a gentleman!” you chirp, “Now I wish I’d spoken to you sooner.”

The walk to the train station is too short for his liking. He’d really like to spend the rest of the night with you, but you still have things to do and Yone can’t be away for too long lest something happens in the dorm. As if you could sense him sulking, you gently tug on his sleeve and urge him to look at you. Before he can ask, you’re already leaning up to press a chaste kiss on his cheek, an action that has his eyes widening and his heart racing once again.

“I’ll see you again, Yone.”

His face feels like it’s burning as he watches you skip and disappear into the crowd. How can a single person reduce him to such a state so effortlessly? Still, he can’t help but look forward to the next time he’ll get to spend time with you again. He thinks you’re going to be quite the presence in his life and he’s more than happy to let that happen.

Yone usually regrets saying yes to what Kayn or Ezreal rope him in, but this time around, he doesn’t regret it at all. He couldn’t wait to see you again. Maybe without his friends meddling in this time, but he supposes he does have them to thank for leading him to you.

Plus, he still needs to get your number.

#yone x reader #heartsteel yone x reader #heartsteel x reader #league of legends x reader #all #bitchcraftinc #angelshubnetwork

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kechiwrites · 1 month

Text

mirror image

toxic baby daddy!ghost x reader

part 7/8

synopsis: two weeks into your uneasy truce, simon gets introspective.

wc: 811

cw: afab!reader, angst, banter that becomes arguing, hurt and the tiniest bit of comfort, language, trust issues, simon's pov, no gendered language. no use of y/n ever.

author’s note: well, we back at it, the second last installment of this verse. i'll still take requests/thots for it of course, but soon we'll get closure for these two. for now, simon's thoughts on their situation.

new to baby blue? start here.

It’s disarming.

And Simon Riley doesn’t like being disarmed. He doesn’t like being caught off guard, off kilter, unstable.

It’s been happening more and more often though.

When you and Tommy look at him in perfect unison, he is struck stupid by your eyes, like you copy and pasted them onto your son. His son. His kid. His perfect, funny kid. Unmuddied by everything bad in the world. His life is pancakes and dinosaurs and that horrible fucking tv show that he’s sure rots his little mind. His life is you. Your smiles, your laugh, your cooking, your hugs. Things Simon cheated himself of when he walked out on you, choked with fear and bleeding misery.

Simon is disarmed, totally fucking helpless, a veritable babe in the woods when you let him hold you. When for the first time, in a long ass time, he gets to watch your lids flutter closed and slip into unconsciousness, in that quick, carefree way he’s always envied.

He barely sleeps, even less so lately.

After all, no sleeping meant no nightmares. No cloying, choking smoke-like fears reaching for the frayed edges of his subconscious. No sleeping meant he couldn’t play on your kindness, your goodness, and guilt you into holding him back when he woke up screaming, sweating, no matter how bad he wanted it.

It’s two weeks later. Two weeks after sleeping together but not sleeping together. After breakfast and an uneasy truce. Two weeks after kissing you and touching you and holding you like you both had all the time in the world.

You’re not in a good mood. And he knows that. But he pushes you anyway, pokes and prods you even as you slam through your kitchen, noisily pulling out a pot and a huge bag of pasta shells.

“Let’s talk.” He approaches, arms crossed, full kit traded in for a skull emblazoned cloth mask, jeans and a threadbare black t-shirt, one he’d found in your bedroom days ago, stashed in the back your drawer, crumpled in a wrinkled ball, like you didn’t want to see it, but you didn’t want to trash it either. He’s been doing that lately, staying over for days and rifling through your shit, finding old relics and artifacts from a time neither of you can let go of. An old mask, a hat, t-shirts.

So many goddamn t-shirts.

“Talk?” you snort derisively, filling the pot with water. He watches you test the water with your fingertips and curse under your breath, mumbling something about shit pipes. When the pot is full, you turn to face him, lips curled, sneering. “I wasn’t aware you were capable of that. Thought you just communicated in grunts.”

“You’re funny. That's new.” He jabs, advancing in the conversation much faster than he should have, comforted in familiar territory, finding solace in what used to be commonplace for you, banter, barbs, teasing. The tense set of your shoulders should’ve warned him off it, should’ve told him you’d take it as well as a bullet in the back. But God help him, he’ll take whatever you give.

“Mm.” Your tone is casual but your answering nod is jerky, too fast, “Yeah, I developed a sense of humour when I realized our relationship had been a joke.” You slam the pot onto a burner, giving him your back.

The air is suddenly devoid of mirth, utterly obliterated where it had been floating between you before. Now the living room and kitchen are a smoking crater, an oil rig on fire, a disaster site.

He’s never been more grateful for his son’s propensity to nap like he’s dead.

Neither of you say anything. Simon is waiting for you to say something, to dress him down, but when you lower your head and sigh, heavy and deep with pain and exhaustion he planted within you, Simon withers. He slinks back to the living room and drops himself onto your couch.

You wait, he’s not sure what for. He used to be so good at preempting your actions, your thoughts, your words, now he handles you like you’re a venomous reptile, looking for exposed, vulnerable flesh to strike, to bite.

You set down the glass you’d been drinking from hard. And he’s surprised you didn’t crack it.

“What do you want, Simon?” Question of the goddamn century, it is. And you’ve asked it of him plenty of times. But he never has an answer, can never really deduce just what the fuck he’s doing here, with you. With Tommy. Playing a game? Playing a role? Punishing you? Himself? All of it could be true, but none of it seems right.

“I want to try.”

All he knows is that before this, four years seemed like a short time, nothing really. But now?

It’s an eternity. Reflected back to him in broken glass, in half full drawers, in his son’s eyes.

In yours.

comments + tags + reblogs are so appreciated

oh simon...what do you want?

series masterlist here

#ghost x black reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost x you #ghost x black!reader #simon riley x you #kechiwrites #baby blue fic #baby daddy ghost #ghost x gn reader #cod fanfic #cod imagine #cod x reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw3 x reader

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beforeimdeceased · 1 month

Text

ENTANGLED IN YOU — FLOWER KNOWS BEST!

click me!

ellie williams x reader

a/n: this is definitely something! idk do you guys like dialogue heavy parts? i wanted it to feel very tense and rushed like it would in a scene. whatever this is just for fun!

tags: @onlinelesbo, @seraphicsentences

masterlist

“holy fuck! holy fuck.”

“shit.”

you both scream out in terror at the sight of each other. before you, the freckle faced woman is tied to a chair with rope. eyebrows furrowed as she regains consciousness and realizes where she is.

“who are you? are you looking for the cure?” you point the pan at her, using it to size her up.

“this has got to be some kind of sick fucking joke. cure? who are you?”

“i asked you first.” you reply snarkily, holding the pan closer to her face.

she struggles with the rope a bit, reaching for the switchblade that’s usually in her pocket. once she realizes it’s gone, she visibly becomes angry. “i’m a person who wants to get out of these fucking ropes.”

you back away a little bit, putting the pan down. her face softens as she studies yours. it’s clear that you’re just scared. more than she is. you look around for a pair of scissors.“i thought you were someone else.”

“someone else, huh? i’d hate to see what you do to them.” she slumps further in the chair, surrendering to the restraints.

“where are you coming from? i thought that everyone out there was infected.”

“how long have you been up here? infected have been dying out since the cure was created. there are settlements everywhere.”

“i knew it was a settlement! the one with the festival lights.”

“yes. alot of them have those.” she deadpans.

you revel in excitement and prepare to rapid fire questions, especially ones about the cure she mentioned, but you’re interrupted by the sound of doctor calling from below. you look at the mystery woman, and she looks at you. before she can scream for help you jump on her. the two of you fall to the ground with your hand on her mouth. she licks it, causing you to give her a disappointed look.

“if she finds you here she will kill you. you need to-“

“flower!”

“you need to shut up. i’ll hide you in my room. please, don’t make any noise.” you plea.

you look into her eyes, an iridescent verdant, light shining into them. they meet yours and she sees you. all your fear and confusion. she nods, and you lift her up, dragging her into your room.

“flower? flower!”

“coming!”

the world begins to move in slow motion. possibilities unraveling themselves in your mind. you pull the lever, and put on your best inconspicuous smile.

“did you check on the lights?” you rush.

“no hello? don’t be rude flower i-“

“hello. did you check the lights, doctor?”

she lets out a deep breath, looking over at you with compassion and sadness in her eyes. “i did. i understand you were excited but i was right. nothing out there but remains and infected. no viable life except for the land.”

you don’t know what to say. you’re not sure if she’s aware or if she’s lying to you. the former is somewhat comforting but you’re leaning towards the latter, following a feeling in your gut.

her watch goes off and she rushes to hug you. “i’m sorry sweetheart, i have to go again. i’ll be back in three days time. i promise, i’ll make this birthday extra special.” she places a kiss on your forehead and quickly rushes back down the tower.

you have to stand with yourself. soaking in the moment. questioning the person you’ve been with your entire life and putting their word against the stranger you just met. a series of scenarios running through your mind-

“where’s my switchblade?” the mysterious woman interrupts.

“fuck- sorry. i forgot you were here.”

you watch as she rubs her wrists. you always did tie terrible knots.

“you forgot i was here? you tied me up and told me your friend was going to kill me if i didn’t stay quiet.”

you shake your head. “we don’t have to go over the details. i’m sorry. i hid it somewhere.”

“well, can i have it back?”

the gears begin to turn in your mind. cooking up an idea so cartoonishly that you can swear a lightbulb formed over your head.

“i will give you back your knife-“

“switchblade.”

“whatever. i will give it back if you take me to see the lights.”

“i could just kill you.”

“and you’ll leave without your knife-“

“switch. blade.”

“because i’ve hidden it where you’ll never be able to find it.”

she rolls her eyes. “seriously?”

you inch closer to her. “please. i promise i’ll give it back to you, i never break a promise. i just need to see the outside world. i’ve never been allowed to leave this place.”

she stares at you for a moment. eyeing you up and down. “did you hit me over the head with a frying pan?”

you suck your teeth, crossing your arms and huffing. “listen. i will give you whatever you want and more if you show me the festival lights .”

“they’re normal lights?” she corrects.

you can feel your patience waning. “i should’ve kept you tied up and taped your mouth shut.”

“i should just kill you.”

“no!” you shake your head rapidly “please. what’s your name? doctor calls me flower. what’s your name?”

she hesitates. “ellie.”

“ellie. it’s nice to meet you ellie.” you smile but she’s not in the mood.

“i will give you back all your stuff, some paintings and sweaters i’ve made. even a portion of a cure doctor made using my blood if you-“

“your blood?”

“yes, i’m immune. i actually shouldn’t even be telling you that…”

everything else is a blur for ellie. thoughts race through her mind as she realizes the seriousness of what you’ve just confessed. and she thought she was the only one.

“okay. fine, whatever. i’ll take you to see the ‘lights’ and then when i bring you back you give me my stuff. and the cure.”

this is an offer you can’t refuse. a chance at uncovering the truth. an opportunity to explore the world in a way you never had before. and you must make it there and back in three days time.

“deal.”

#bunnie can speak? ☆#ellie williams #・❥・ bun’s sweet ellie #ellie williams x reader #bun’s asks ꕤ #bun’s anons ˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐 #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams imagine #princess au #tlou fanfic #tlou headcanons #ellie williams tlou #fanfic series #wlw imagine #wlw fantasy #wlw fanfic #ellie x reader fluff #ellie williams the last of us

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sh0tanzz · 1 month

Note

is it me or do i like men groveling

can i request riize second chance romance if that makes sense:’)

(ur work is amazing pls continie keeping us happy^^)

i love groveling men too it’s ok anon 😗

RIIZE SECOND CHANCE ROMANCE ~ based on their birth charts

reminder this is just based off of my opinion after looking at their birth charts and what I think would happen from my own observations these things are not exact fact unless they said it themselves !

Shotaro

SO MUCH ANGST OOOH MY GOF. Would be the most mature on the outside but on the inside he’d be ☹️☹️☹️. “I don’t even care about what she’s doing” [checked your instagram and other socials to see if you’re grieving as well or seeing someone new] He wouldn’t necessarily go out dating looking for a rebound he’d focus on his craft in all honesty and might even seclude himself a little bit. I see him taking a break with his s/o instead of just flatline breaking up and once he feels like he has emotionally healed as far as he can he’d return and it would be pretty serious like in a private closed space he’d want to talk everything out and NEEEDS you to be honest abt everything but he’d just want you guys back together and for both of you to be happy.

Eunseok

(I feel like Eunseok is aware that he could potentially fall victim to the “the one that got away” trope) but anyway. He’d be the biggest nonchalanter to ever nonchalant 😭 might even try to stay mutuals/cordial with you. Would date, see other people, have a mini roster and fwbs going on. But as soon as he realizes everyone else is boring him and wasting his oh so valuable time (And he hates. To waste his time.) he’d get so irritated at himself for letting go of such a good thing and would criticize criticIZE CRITICIZEE himself. Forces himself to not run from/internalize how he feels he’d reach out again, wouldn’t be the most sappy return ever he might even joke about what happened but he’d be as honest as he could ever be and would surprisingly admit where he fucked up.

Sungchan

His pride and the hurt he carried during the time apart would hold him back so badly. Would improve himself and boss up similar to Shotaro to show you what you were missing; try to find attention and praise elsewhere. But when he realizes you did the same thing and also became better in every way possible physically, mentally…and that people still have their eye on you like they did when he first met you..he’d cave. Would HAVE to shamefully put his hurt and pride aside. Cue his dramatic serious text at 11pm and him asking how you’re doing to see if the good things he’s heard about you were true (prays you say no when he asks if you’re seeing anyone) would ask you to meet him somewhere that was important to you two and nostalgic. Almost kills him to be wrong but has to accept it 😭

Wonbin

He’d be like “whatever” since he knows that so many girls want to be in your place, might even consider sliding back to that one ex. Would be torn between just letting things go back to normal but his stubborn stagnant attitude would leave him stuck in a victim state. But then once the pain slowlyyy seeps in and that what you two had was something genuine and you were one of few people that actually understood him and physically compatible with him then on the inside he’d lose it. Would have a wayyy more sappy lovey dovey way of coming back. Cue him using music in some way shape or form as his way of coming back. Would probably want to physically see you in a place that he’s most comfortable with.

Seunghan

So so sassy. Honestly he’d walk away pretty fast but would miss you pretty fast right after. He’d hesitate but only because he knows that he probably got a little mean when you two split and that you might not even want to talk to him. Tries to go dating around but wakes up and gets it together once he sees/hears that you’re talking to someone new (10 extra points if it’s someone he doesn’t like or thinks isn’t even close to how attractive he is ) . Tries to be cool about it but is hurting inside, would ask everyone for advice. The emotional side would take over and he’d just have to listen to how he feels and think later. His way of coming back is essentially him outdoing whoever has you on their sights or him showing you the epitome of affection. He’d have to force his virgo mercury to work and speak UP and apologize.

Sohee

Would seem pretty ok and normal compared to everyone else similarly to Eunseok. Talks about you but wants to jump someone if THEY try to talk about you. (“can’t believe she’d do this” “yea she’s crazy asf” “Don’t say that 🫤.” ). (Cue him singing “When I was your man” by Bruno Mars 😭). He wouldn’t want to constrict and limit himself or you after the breakup so he’d also try to date/talk to other people. Has to give in and accept that thinking about you while hanging out with someone else is a CLEAR indicator that he needs to get off his high horse and return. He’d probably word vomit about how he feels about everything and apologize but also goes on this passive lecture on how you two shouldn’t allow each others feelings to rip you two apart like that again and the principle of it all.

Anton

Word vomit pt.2. Could go two ways. Way one if the breakup was on good terms/mutual after the breakup he’d probably remain friends or still be in contact with you, then once he realizes he can’t just move on at the snap of his fingers and realizes that every person he’s with has resemblance to you whether it’s physical/personality he’d impulsively talk to you and get right back if he can. If it was on bad terms it’d feel pretty cruel ngl like you’d feel like he kinda just disappeared and made his way elsewhere..but once he’s alone with his thoughts he’d have to realize the errors of his way or the faults on his side he’d IMPULSIVELY come forwards with how he feels, would probably ask you to dinner and have the conversation there and says everything that he has to.

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lume-nosity · 1 year

Text

mellow hearts

prompt: how would they act if they realized they had a crush on you

characters: heizou, xiao, kazuha, ganyu, yoimiya, albedo, scaramouche, eula, venti

style: fluff

song inspo: sweet by cigarettes after sex

an: sweet is a really good song and i was writing while listening to it on loop at night! i actually wrote for so many characters.. but i like writing this way, it’s short and sweet. i don’t have to make it too extreme. though i still hope i don’t make them too ooc as i just thought it’d be cute to write a prompt like this & wanted to try out more characters to write. do let me know if these are alright! feel free to give me some pointers for any of these characters backgrounds and such! just don’t turn it into harsh criticism. little ol’ me is trying (-｡-;

notes: not proofread, gender of reader is your choice, lowercase intended, ooc???

heizou

‘started off as a joke, but now it’s not’ kind of guy. being a detective, it’s surprising how it took him a long time to realize his true feelings for you. even he himself is surprised. the way he had to connect the dots, connect every possibility as to why he feels comfortable around you, and then it clicked. he likes you. so expect him to tease/play with you more often, but he silently wishes you get the point. while also being flustered deep inside.

xiao

he’s in denial. why would he, an adeptus, fall in love with a mortal? he doesn’t want you to concern yourself with him. but these feelings of his are making that belief 10x harder. he’d shove his feelings aside, but they’ll always come back to bite him. knowing him, he will take a really long time to be honest with his feelings. not only are they foreign to him, he doesn’t want to hurt you. so give him some time.

kazuha

he goes with the flow. in his travels, he’ll always bring a souvenir back for you. so let’s just say he’ll bring you gifts. every night when you both stargaze or just admire the night sky, he’ll throw in a few ‘flowery’ words here & there. oh and maybe a bonus, he’ll make a haiku on the spot for you. he knows what he’s doing, but even though he cannot stay in one spot, he’ll always find a way to make it back to you. accompanied with some gifts/trinkets.

ganyu

very flustered. she’ll ask cloud retainer about why she feels at ease whenever she’s around you but after doing so she gets teased. which makes her flustered even more. what she’ll do is try to find some time in her schedule to spend time with you. whatever activity, she will join you. whatever location, she will follow you. she may even go the extra mile to cancel her work and make the entire day dedicated to you.

yoimiya

she’ll be more cheerful. oh she has a crush on you? she’s planning a firework date! the fireworks she’s prepping are going to be the best ones ever to be used. she wants to make this date special, so she’ll have to make it count. with some pizzazz if you will?

albedo

he’s confused. like xiao, he doesn’t know what his ‘warm’ feelings are. ironic how he’s an intelligent guy, he wasn’t taught the concept of love. so he turns to sucrose for advice. but after learning what he really feels for you, and what love means, his cheeks turn red and he covers his mouth in embarrassment.

scaramouche

he disregards his feelings and thinks of them as ‘stupid.’ after being abandoned time after time, he doesn’t want the same thing to happen again. many times has he fallen prey to abandonment, he wasn’t falling for it again. he believes he has no time for love…but you’re right there. so he’s pretty conflicted about his ideals. in his mind there’s a whole war going on whether he wants to be upfront with his feelings or leave them. but he wasn’t aware of the light shade of pink that’s obviously shown on his face.

eula

appalled but also blushy at the same time. she’d put her hands on her hips, raise her chin, and say stuff like ‘i’ll seek vengeance on you for making me feel this way.’ she wouldn’t admit it, because that’s just eula yk? a tough nut to crack. though on certain occasions she’d invite you to go ice skating in dragonspine and if you have no experience in ice skating she’ll be happy to teach you. she may say things like ‘hmph. i’ll see to your punishment.’ but don’t worry. she may have that rough exterior, but she’s really kind.

venti

he’ll be more clingy. oh yeah. expect him to follow you around like a lost puppy. you’re going to liyue, he’s going. inazuma? sure why not. sumeru? nice, he’s ready. whenever he’s drunk he comes tumbling towards you and latches his hands around you, slurring out nonsense as you stand there like: ‘you must’ve drank again have you.’ and he goes ‘oh? i’ve only downed a.. couple. *hiccup* it’s not a lot, ehe.’ basically, he’ll just be more clingy to you and he isn’t shy to show that. a bold bard he is.

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arrowfleur · 30 days

Text

“What was that for?”

Some more thoughts on Darlin’s love languages and Sam’s HBS. Part 2 headcanons yay!

@darlin-collins <3

Darlin feels like they are never close enough to Sam, they will be laid directly on top of him and still trying to figure out ways to get closer

Sam, although quite outwardly stoic, does not only use his ‘pretty prose’ on Darlin’ (although they get the most and the best ones). Since his turning he is so aware of how short life can be and when he truly admires something about a person he’ll let them know.

This is usually with close pack/clan and also always when he’s just on his own with the person he’s talking too. But, if the timings right, he lets out these poetic observations, usually leaving the other person speechless before he quickly changes the topic. Not always realising the (positive) weight of his compliments.

On multiple occasions Sam has used words to describe Darlin that they didn’t know. Not because they’re dumb but because some of his vocabulary is rather niche. And upon looking it up they almost always perfectly describe Darlin’ in whatever situation he was talking about.

Although not the best at giving compliments, Darlin’ does tell Sam that he’s beautiful, gorgeous etc depending on the vibe he’s giving at the time and they’re the first person to ever call him anything other than handsome or hot.

‘You’re so pretty’

‘Pretty?!?’

‘Mhmm’

‘Darlin’ I ain’t-‘

‘Especially right now, with your hair like that’

‘Alright…. Well, thank you.’

I’ve mentioned before in a head canon post that they like it when Sam runs a finger up and down the bridge of their nose. Darlin’ will also full on nuzzle into Sam when cuddling/hugging. Especially into his collarbone/neck

Although comfortable with (platonic) touch from people they know, Darlin doesn’t like it unexpectedly, nor will they usually initiate it.

Unless someone they love is upset, then they’ll be getting a hug or an arm wrapped around them without any hesitation (if that’s what they like ofc)

Sam feels like he’ll never be able to fully voice how much Darlin’ means to him, Darlin’s heart practically skips a beat when he simply calls them beautiful. (Or when he makes a joke or complains or laughs or….)

When comforting Darlin’ about something, Sam often adresses problems/reasons for their behaviour/feelings that Darlin’ hadn’t realised themselves yet. He is so careful with his wording and extremely observant of them.

Darlin’ although previously independent to a fault, realised that the best comfort they could give Sam was to let him help them. On multiple occasions Darlin’ has let him heal paper-cuts and small bruises (which is a ridiculous waste of magic in their opinion) because otherwise he’s not going to stop thinking about it.

Sam knows all of Darlin’s tells by their body language and Darlin’ know Sam’s by his tone and the amount he’s speaking for example: if he says he’s ‘fine’ then he’s not but if he says he’s ‘alright’ then he probably is

The same way Sam felt bad about not being able to give Darlin every physical action that they wanted Darlin feels bad that they can’t verbalise their feelings for him correctly.

Sam found a scrunched up love letter from Darlin’ and keeps it in his wallet. They’d wanted to write down their feelings so they wouldn’t mess it up when sharing them with him but ultimately hated the end result.

They do however leave little notes for him sometimes while he’s sleeping , since they tend to work on different schedules, that Sam also dearly treasures and keeps in a shoe box.

Sam is really good at writing professional emails and has on multiple occasions written some for Angel and Babe when they’ve had problems with their bosses

The perfect mix of polite, professional and passive aggressive

Another way Darlin’ helps Sam is by reminding him of his talents/abilities and how he uses them for so much good, they will not let that man be humble. His #1 cheerleader FR.

Even with all of this in mind both of their most comfortable ways of communicating their love is through acts of service. That way they get to keep up their grumpy outward personas that the pack/clan have long since learned to see right through.

#can’t believe I went so long without rambling about them but the ramble are back baby #mainly Sam and Darlin #but I’ll probably make another post at some point with more of the pack involved #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted sam #redacted darlin #redacted shaw pack #arrowsqueue #redacted headcanons

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inkdrinkerworld · 11 months

Note

I have a request if they’re open! I’m think dealer!remus comforting autistic reader since she’s scared that Remus is one of her hyper-fixactions. Totally not projecting myself into this 🫣

some of my past relationships have just felt like hyper-fixations of mine so I feel like autistic reader may feel the same idk. What do you think? 💗💗💗

i can see this and i understand this and so this was born:

liking remus and laughing at his jokes and spending time with him starts to feel weird out of nowhere.

you’re at his apartment, legs in his lap, munching on some fruit he got when you said yes to coming over, when the inkling that he might be a hyper fixation pops up.

you’re learning everything about him, spending days on end with him, doing your favourite things and his and suddenly the crush you’d had on him feels like it’ll end the moment you say the inevitable, ‘i like you more than friends remus.’

all of a sudden, your chest feels tight with your lack of surety and you curse your brain for how it works.

you can’t stop looking at him and wondering what what moment exactly will your brain decide that whatever is being built is over and he’s no longer interesting.

remus turns to you, cutting your silent crisis short with a worried look.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, squeezing your heel where it rests on his thigh.

it’s hard to find the words to tell him because if it is a hyper fixation remus should know; but then if it isn’t you run the risk of telling him of your feelings prematurely.

“dove?” he sits up straight, hand holding onto your shin now.

“s-sorry, got lost in my head.” it’s not a whole lie.

remus doesn’t seem settled with the answer and takes the almost finished bowl of assorted fruit from you and sets it on his coffee table.

“anything you can talk about?” you’re grateful for the way he phrases it and that fact makes itself known when tears spring to your eyes.

you really hope he isn’t a hyper fixation. you’re not aware that your breathing is harsh and labored until remus tugs you into his lap.

“hey,” his thumb collects the tears on the apples of your cheeks and you shut your eyes not having the heart to continue looking at him “what’s the matter, dove? you’re scaring me.”

he is scared, terrified that somehow he’s ruined whatever you both have got going on and he doesn’t know.

he doesn’t know you’re just as terrified that your brain has built him up and is about to make him come crashing down and make you disgusted by him soon enough.

“i’m sorry for crying,” you say softly and remus sucks at his teeth.

“don’t be sorry for that dove. crying is good.”

there goes your heart, racing away with his easygoing, kind words.

“you can tell me anything, y’know that yeah?” you nod, letting the feeling of his thumb stroking your cheek help regulate you.

“i think my brain is playing tricks on me,” you say softly after a couple beats of silence.

remus frowns but doesn’t interrupt. he doesn’t want to set you off the course you’ve started.

“you know how sometimes you watch a show and there’s just something about it that makes you want to know everything about everything?” you open your eyes to catch his nod.

“i think my brain is doing that with you, but the part i’m scared about is after when i’ve learnt everything there is to know.”

“why? do you think you’ll know something you don’t want to?”

you huff a laugh and shake your head. “i’m afraid that when i know everything about you, my brain will decide that’s enough and i won’t want to know anything else about you again.”

remus coos and it makes more tears spring to your eyes. he pulls your forehead to press against his, noses brushing and if you weren’t crying you’d be hyper aware of how close you are.

“i can’t promise that won’t happen,” he says gently, thumb grounding you as it continues stroking your cheek.

“but, i can promise that even if your brain decides you’re done with me, i won’t hold it against you. and i’ll always be here for when your brain decides that it wants to know something again.”

your tears don’t stop and remus doesn’t try to stop them. he holds you till you cry every last bit of moisture from your body and he holds you some more when you fall asleep clinging to him on his sofa.

#remuslupin #remus lupin #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin angst #remus lupin x black!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x yn #remus lupin fic #tism🤝

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illiterateaffairs · 1 year

Text

DISTRACTIONS II | ALONE AT MIDNIGHT

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T

word count: 2,880

summary: jamie refuses to let you go home alone again

A/N: what could THAT mean?

distractions masterlist | previous chapter

After almost three months with the club, you and the team are now celebrating a seven game win streak.

Rebecca has somehow managed to convince a star football player called Zava to join AFC Richmond (you still weren’t sure if that was his first name or last name) and they haven’t lost a match since. While very gifted at football, you wouldn’t exactly call Zava your favorite player to work with. He was self-centered but not at all self aware. For some reason the team worshiped him but you could hardly understand why. With what you heard about how much they couldn’t stand Jamie when he used to be more selfish and stuck-up, you didn’t get why they’re putting up with Zava. Maybe it was just the thrill of back-to-back wins. They were all the happiest you’d ever seen them so you kept your thoughts to yourself.

Well almost all of them were happy. Anytime the team went out for drinks to celebrate their recent victories (even days after on a random Wednesday - any excuse for a pint, as Isaac would say) Sam convinced you to tag along. That’s how you started spending time getting to know more guys like Isaac and Colin and Dani. But even as you bonded with them, you couldn’t help but notice Jamie. You’d always find him sulking in a corner with a beer in his hand, or half heartedly making conversation with one of his teammates. You’d spoken to him a few times over the last several weeks, and while you’d talk about your weekend or share jokes about other players or even the coaches (apologies, Uncle Ted), your conversations were never lengthy or of substance. So you ignored the urge to check up on him during these nights.

You’re out again tonight - except this time it's the entire club. Coaches, staff, and all are gathered at Sam’s restaurant Ola’s for an unofficial opening celebration in honor of the team’s seventh straight win. You’re sipping champagne by the bar with Rebecca and Keeley, when they have to introduce you to Rebecca’s old friend Sassy. You’ll love her! And of course you do. Everyone you encounter here is the best person you’ve ever met. Although your ears bleed when Sassy alludes to going home with Ted later. Rebecca secretly gives you a simultaneously apologetic and amused look, to which you can only laugh through your embarrassment.

As you sip your champagne, you can’t help but look on as your work family mixes and mingles and laughs together. You try not to beam at Sam, who you’ve told you’re proud of a million times that night, as he talks to his chef friend. You look on curiously as Colin introduces a friend of his to some other members of the team. You even feel comforted when you see Roy sit down next to Jamie, hoping someone can get that boy out of whatever funk he’s in. Even Zava makes a surprise appearance but you keep from rolling your eyes.

You’ve really become comfortable here the last few months. You try to remember the last time you’ve felt this happy and content and you come up blank. You’re surrounded by people you actually like and a job that sustains you both financially and spiritually. Now if only you could write a word of fiction you were proud of, but baby steps will have to do.

You’re not a superstitious or paranoid person, but as soon as you start dwelling on how great your life is going, you know that you’ll jinx it.

And you do.

As Rebecca begins telling you and Keeley about the psychic reading she had recently, your phone buzzes in your back pocket. You figure it's a text from your dads and don’t want to miss an opportunity to connect with them even briefly, since you’ve been so busy. Instead of finding a text from your family group chat, you see an Instagram notification.

Mason_Andrews has posted for the first time in a while.

Stupid Instagram and their stupid irrelevant notifications.

You know you shouldn’t look. You’re having a great time, and you haven’t really thought about him in weeks. But you’re so curious. Besides, you really need to make the move to unfollow him and this could be the perfect opportunity to do so.

So you click the notification banner and Instagram opens to a picture of Mason- with his arms wrapped around an eerily familiar red-head.

He’d told you he barely knew the girl, as the two of you fought that night; that she didn’t mean anything to him.

Apparently she did now. They looked extra cozy, all dressed up in cocktail attire at what must have been one of Mason’s work events. My girl, the caption reads simply. Your fingers move faster than your brain as you tap the image to see the girl has been tagged. Her handle tells you her name is Chloe. You know if you start digging any further you’re going to drive yourself crazy. But if you don’t look and go on the rest of the night trying to forget about it, you’ll feel even crazier. So you decide you need to get out of there as soon as possible.

Under the guise of exhaustion, you bid your farewells to Keeley and Rebecca. You catch Ted’s eye over Sassy’s shoulder and wave. He mouths back a “get home safe”. You don’t even try to get Beard’s attention with his girlfriend Jane in his lap. Roy gives you a nod and you briefly make eye contact with Jamie as Keeley’s friend and coworker Shandy talks off his ear, giving him a small smile as you head to the front. You let Sam know you’re calling it a night, and he begs you to stay for a little while longer, but you just hug him tighter and promise to be his first customer when Ola’s officially opens. He flashes his contagious, thousand-watt smile and you almost feel better, accepting the green matchbook as a keepsake that you know you’ll never part with.

Leaning against the brick of the restaurant, you mean to call an Uber, but end up giving in and immediately start cyber-stalking Chloe. You’re nearly a full year down her Instagram grid when the door jingles beside you, causing you to jump.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, palming your chest to calm your rising heart rate.

“Didn’t know you were so religious,” Jamie snickers from beside you, seemingly a bit more upbeat than he was earlier in the evening.

You snort, relaxing a bit, “Says the guy with the cross earring.”

He smirks, “It's a fashion statement, ever heard of it?”

“My sincerest apologies,” You hold your hands up playfully in surrender, “I’m surprised you're alone.”

He raises his eyebrow. “Why?”

“Well it seems if Shandy had her way, you’d be leaving with her.”

Jamie takes a deep breath, “Shandy is…a lot. I think she wanted to take a bite out of me.”

You laugh at the pained expression on his face, “What, you’re not into that sort of thing?”

He gets a mischievous glint in his eye and you know you’re going to regret having said that, “Well, I’m usually the one doing the biting.”

“My God,” you groan, closing your eyes.

“There you go with the religious expletives,” he tsks, “You know you shouldn’t use the lord’s name in vain.”

“I will try to do better.”

Your breathy laughs die out together.

“So, what about you?” Jamie asks.

“What about me?”

“Don’t tell me you’re walking home alone again from here.”

You’re reminded of what you were supposed to be doing. “Oh, no, I was actually about to order an Uber.”

“Fuck that. My car is down the block, let me drive you.”

“Jamie, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m not letting you waste your money when I have a perfectly good car and empty passenger seat. Let’s go.”

He doesn’t give you another second to consider when he’s already rounding the corner of the restaurant.

Moments later you’re putting your address into Jamie’s phone from his passenger seat, and you appreciate that he only made fun of you a little for almost getting in the driver's side. (“Hey, if you want to take a shot at driving on the correct side of the road, be my guest.” “Listen, It doesn’t make sense that everything is on the other side!”) You’ve been driving for a few minutes with only the soft sound of the radio playing when you finally let yourself ask.

“So, why the long face all night?” you inquire, “I don’t know much about non-American football, or American football for that matter, but I thought winning several games in a row was supposed to be a good thing.”

Jamie shakes his head, “It is.”

“Thank you for clarifying,” you smile slightly, “But?”

“But,” he sighs, “I don’t love how we did it.”

“What do you mean?”

“It's this whole Zava thing,” he admits, not taking his eyes off the road as you watch him, “Everyone is acting like he’s some God, and sure, he’s a great player, but we…stopped playing as a team. I liked it better that way. Now it's the Zava show.”

You nod, “I get what you mean. I don’t get the hype about Zava either.”

He glances at you for a brief second before focusing on the road again. “You don’t?”

“Yeah, he’s all words and no substance. He says things but it doesn’t mean anything. It's irritating. Honestly, when he walked into Sam’s I had to force myself not to leave immediately.”

He laughs with you, “I feel like you’re the only other person who see’s through his shit.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t really have patience for self-centered jerks. Even if they’re good at kicking a ball around or whatever.”

Jamie’s smile falters a bit. “You know I used to be a lot like him.”

You bite back a laugh, “No way.”

Your sarcasm takes him by surprise. “I thought you weren’t into football?”

“Football? No,” you admit slowly, “One of my old coworkers, though, had an affinity for British dating shows…”

You swear you see a bit of color drain from his face under the glow of the street lights, “Ah shit.”

You can’t help but giggle, “Yeahhh, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? You’re the one who suffered through watching that crap.”

You can’t help but join when a laugh breaks through his words.

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“That bad? I was a total prick.”

“Oh yeah you were a douchebag, but it made great TV.”

He can’t help but laugh with you despite himself. “Yeah, I guess.”

“But you don’t seem like that guy anymore,” you reassure, “I don’t think the guy who broke Amy’s heart would offer to drive a girl you barely know home.”

“I’m trying not to be,” he muses softly. “But you’re right about one thing. I barely know you and you’ve probably seen more of me than either of us would like to admit.”

You chuckle, feeling your face get hot. “'You saying you want to play 20 questions or something?”

“How about one? That being, why the hell did you come to Richmond?” he glances at you again as you suddenly find your hands more interesting than the boy beside you, “Sam says you had some fancy job back in America and now you’re basically a football club owner’s secretary.”

“We prefer the term personal assistant.”

He rolls his eyes, “So what? Were you that desperate to learn about ‘non-American football’ or what?”

You take a long, deep breath. “You want the honest answer?”

Jamie shrugs like it's obvious.

“I told my family I needed a change of scenery, but it was because of a guy. Pathetic right? Making a life changing decision because some guy broke my heart. But the truth is I’d been making a lot of my decisions because of him while we were together. Where to live. What friends to hang out with. I had my old job because he thought it would be a good fit for me even though it wasn’t what I really wanted to do. So, after we…broke up, I realized I didn’t really know who I was because my whole life was built around him and us. So, I knew I had to get the hell out of Chicago, panicked, quit my job, and…here I am; just trying to get a change of scenery and figure out who the hell I am.”

You never admitted that to anyone. No one around you ever saw how controlling he was over your life. You knew your family would have called you out about it, but they never got the chance to spend much time with him. He insisted you spend holidays with his family and you went along with it. And when you visited yours, you went alone. You didn’t realize it at the time, but subconsciously you weren’t very proud of your relationship with him. You were blinded by the attention he gave you, all the while molding you into his definition of a perfect girlfriend. Until apparently you weren’t.

You eventually glanced back over at Jamie, and despite paying attention to the road in front of him, you could tell he was listening attentively.

“Damn, so once you finally saw how bad he was, you dumped him and left?”

You laugh humorously, “No, I dumped him after I caught him cheating on me.” That was also the first time you told someone willingly.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Now who’s using the lord’s name in vain?”

“He sounds fucking awful. Glad you’re rid of him.”

“If only I’d come to my senses sooner.”

He shakes his head, “Don’t blame yourself when he’s the prick.”

You digest the sentiment as his car slows to a stop and you realize you’ve made it to your apartment.

He angles his body towards you, “Seriously, I’m sorry that happened to you. No one…no one deserves that.”

Meeting his eyes, you get the sense that there’s more meaning behind his words that you don’t understand. Still you smile slightly. “Thank you, Jamie.”

He presses his lips together in a thin smile as well.

You unbuckle your seatbelt as you continue, “Well, here’s hoping that quitting my job and moving halfway across the world actually does the trick and lets me move on, or else I might be a little crazy.”

Jamie chuckles and you feel the energy shift back to lighthearted, “Well, you know what they say, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”

“Jesus Chr-” you stop as he raises his eyebrows playfully, and you start to smile. Not only do you let yourself laugh at his cheeky joke, you let yourself consider his words. Casual dating let alone sex wasn’t really your thing, but maybe it could help. At the very least it would be a well deserved distraction. You briefly consider trying out the Bantr app but you loathed online dating. And here you were with a perfectly eligible bachelor mere inches away from you.

No. No. You couldn’t hook up with Jamie Tartt.

He was a notorious playboy. And while you could now attest he wasn’t as bad as his on-screen persona made him look, you knew he still wasn’t a relationship guy.

But that’s not what this would be.

Maybe he would be the perfect guy to distract you for one night. He instantly made you forget about Mason earlier until he became the topic of conversation. And he was very pretty.

Before you can second guess anymore, you push yourself towards him and press your lips against his. If Jamie’s surprised by your actions, it doesn’t last long. He quickly unbuckles his own seatbelt, so he can bring the two of you closer together, his hands squeezing your waist, as yours cup around his face. You kiss frantically for a few more moments, sneaking in breaths where you can, before you’re pulling away slightly. Your noses are brushing against one another as you blink up at him, “Do you want to come inside?”

He doesn’t bother answering, letting out shaky breaths as he nods, bumping his forehead against yours lightly. You smile into another kiss and Jamie doesn’t break away as he starts reaching to unlock the car doors, eager to get into your apartment but a little less eager to part from you. Reluctantly you separate again so you both can fumble out of the car and up the stairs of your building. You feel his breath on your neck as you hurriedly unlock your front door. He gently leads you inside, only to shut the door and push you against it, picking up where he left off. His hands make their way down your body to your thighs, and without having to be asked, you're jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist. You mumble directions to your bedroom against his lips and before you know it, he’s lying you down across your bed. As his lips leave a trail down your neck and to your chest, you don’t even remember Mason’s name. Your mind is just clouded by Jamie, Jamie, Jamie.

A/N: let me know what you think y’all!!! also taking this opportunity to let everyone know i’m not comfortable writing smut or things like that, but will obviously allude to this like this. hope everyone understands! ❤️

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #distractions series #mine

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joelswritingmistress · 4 months

Text

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 15

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

Dr. Miller had been right. It’s amazing laying in bed watching the snow fall down at you from above. I stared up through the oversized skylight, if that’s what it was, and stared as the collection of snowflakes coated the glass. An outdoor light illuminated the area making it all the more enchanting.

My body ached and my heart was full. Dr. Miller kissed across the tops of my breasts in the darkness and I secured him there with an arm around the top of his back.

“I could just stay up here watching the snow fall for days,” I said quietly. “I could be like your own.. Rapunzel.”

He laughed against my skin and then cradled himself behind me, letting his fingers dance in circles around my bellybutton. I curled my knees up toward my chest and a chill ran down my back. I didn’t think my body could handle it if he touched me again. I didn’t think I’d had a limit, but my body was tastefully sexed out.

“Someone came to the house today,” Dr. Miller said into my ear.

My weary eyes flickered open and I smiled smally to myself in the darkness, pleased that he told me.

“When?”

“When my phone went off earlier and I left for a bit.” He brushed the hair away from my neck and left a single kiss there. “It was something for work.”

“Okay.” I wasn’t sure if I should press for details or simply let him say whatever he wanted to say about it.

Dr. Miller held me closer, securing my back against his chest. Our fingers linked on the mattress. “I have to leave for a couple of hours.”

I turned my head part way and then managed to flip my body around so we were face-to-face on the pillow. “Why?”

He pulled me on top of him. “There’s just something I have to do.” Dr. Miller looked away for a moment and his hand slid across the small of my back. “I know that’s vague..” It took a few seconds but he looked back to me. The apologetic puppy eyes had me locked in place and I managed to crack a smile.

“Another woman?” I joked, though I wanted to see his reaction.

Dr. Miller’s eyebrows pressed together and he grew serious, but I silenced him before he could speak with a kiss.

“I’m kidding,” I whispered.

“You’re all I’ve been able to think about since I’ve met you,” he confessed, not smiling back. Dr. Miller's hand found my face again and then moved to my hair. I could tell he had a thing about playing with my hair and I loved it. “Besides, I don’t think I could get my dick up right now if I tried.”

When I giggled he finally smirked and leaned up to plant a hard, closed-mouth kiss on my already aching lips.

“You have successfully worn me out,” Dr. Miller added, wrapping both arms around me as we continued a sensual, little makeout session.

“I know the feeling.” I smiled at him and then left a breath against his lips. “Go do whatever you need to do. I’ll be here.”

“I’m sorry.”

Don’t be.” I told him, “You have a life.”

“And I’m glad you’ve become a part of it.”

“Me, too.”

We kissed again and Dr. Miller stayed close for a few extra seconds before reluctantly slinking out of bed. I couldn't help but stare at him in his purest, most vulnerable form.

He clicked on a light beside the bed and handed over a remote for the television on the wall across the room. “You don't have to stay up here, but if you're comfortable and want to get some sleep, I'll be back soon.”

The oversized clock on the wall read ten forty-five. I sighed and hugged one of the pillows, rolling onto my side.

“I'll probably just stay in here and go to sleep soon.” My eyes drifted up toward the ceiling. The snow had picked up again. “Please be careful driving.”

“I'm taking the truck.” Dr. Miller put both hands on the bed and leaned back down to touch his lips to mine. “Get some rest.”

“Hurry back.” I half-smiled and we kissed another time. He gripped my fingers between his own before slinking out of the room and down the stairs.

When Dr. Miller physically left the room, I realized how badly I didn't want him to go. I suddenly realized that I was in too deep. I was too wrapped up in this; in him. Being away from him after such an emotionally driven, sexually charged morning and afternoon left my chest cavity feeling empty.

Why do I want to cry? Nothing was wrong. Dr. Miller would be back soon, but there would be a time sooner than later when I would have to leave his mansion to go back to real life. I didn't want to. I was wrapped up, caught up and already longing for his company ninety seconds after he left the room.

When I heard the alarm system click on, I rose to my feet and felt a chill as I wandered toward the window to look out. A few minutes passed before the oversized black pickup truck rolled through the driveway, kicking up snow, and drove down toward the main gates. And then he was gone. Gone to parts unknown. Parts he couldn't talk about.

I need a reality check. I need to chill out.

I took a deep breath and climbed back into bed, pulling the covers all the way up. Deep down I knew something was off. This wasn't normal - at all. No part of this was normal. But I wanted it. I wanted Dr. Miller and the way he looked at me; the way he spoke to me and pampered me and touched me.

I tried to go to sleep, because I knew if I did that I would wake to him being there - beside me. My stomach was in knots and I kept trying to ignore it. I was happy but I needed some kind of emotional release. Still, I talked myself off the crying ledge and managed to get myself together with a series of deep breaths.

What is wrong with me? I took a final exhale and ordered my mind to turn off, but the collection of scenarios is made up in my head of what Dr. Miller was doing out in the middle of the night made that impossible.

I didn't know when I had fallen asleep. It had to have been hours before I finally dozed off. I only realized I had fallen asleep when a noise from down the staircase woke me up.

I immediately sprung up in bed, looking around the dark room. “Hello?” It was three-thirty. Dr. Miller wasn't back yet. My hand fell to the empty part of the bed beside me.

My heart rate picked up and I took a breath before climbing out of bed. I searched around for my clothes but I realized I'd left them down in the living room all of those hours before.

“Shit.” I whispered to myself as I tiptoed around the room. When my eyes landed on a white bathrobe hanging in front of a closet it felt like a small victory.

I threw on the robe and then headed to the staircase, leaving little creaks behind me as I descended down. I wanted to call out for Dr. Miller. Why wasn't he home yet? Or maybe he was and he just hadn't come back upstairs.

The door at the bottom of the stairs was closed and when I finally felt for the doorknob in the darkness it didn't turn. I twisted it left and right, slowly at first and then with more urgency.

“Dr. Miller?” I twisted the handle back and forth, back and forth. More frantically now. I smacked a hand on the center of it with three loud bangs. “Dr. Miller?” I shouted a little louder.

I twisted and turned. I pounded. I shouted. The door wouldn't budge. And like my clothes, I hadn't bothered to bring my phone back upstairs. It was still in the living room. I had no way of even getting in touch with him.

“Dr. Miller!” I shouted his name again. Was he even home, or was I shouting to no one. My hand turned the knob again, back and forth, back and forth.

I looked around the darkness, my body spun in a complete circle and I felt the walls hoping there was another secret room or trap door or something. There wasn't.

I banged on the door one last time with both fists. When it flung open I stumbled forward and nearly screamed, falling into Dr. Miller's chest.

“Hey,” he breathed heavily and caught me. “Are you okay?”

“I couldn't get out.” My voice was still choppy and panicked.

“The door handle gets stuck sometimes.” He pulled me into his arms and I closed my eyes when I felt the warmth radiating off his chest. I could tell from his scent and the slick nature of his hair that he had just showered.

I couldn't control my breathing after the short panic attack I'd just had. My eyes closed and I tried to calm myself in his embrace.

“It's okay.” Dr. Miller stroked down the back of my hair and held me close in the hallway. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have closed it. I didn't mean to scare you.”

When he left a kiss on the top of my head I felt my body relax a bit.

“I'm sorry. I just heard a noise and woke up, and you weren't there.” I pulled back a little to glance up at him but Dr. Miller still held me close.

“I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault.” I shook my head and stared at him. Something was wrong. I could see it on his face and he couldn't hide it. And so I decided to just ask him. “What's wrong?”

Dr. Miller's eyes moved back and forth as he studied me for a moment and then he pulled me back against him. His arms engulfed my smaller frame and I hugged him back.

“You can talk to me,” I assured him in a little whisper.

His hand danced up and down my back and then he held me a little harder. Something was up. I could tell from his body language.

“Tell me what's wrong.”

Dr. Miller let out a deep exhale and whispered back. “Come to bed with me.”

“Okay.” I looked back up and I pushed up onto my toes to leave a kiss on his lips. When his stoic expression didn't change, I touched his face. “Are you okay?”

He reached for my hand without answering and pulled me with him toward the open door of his bedroom. When he slunk into bed, he pulled me with him and I let the robe slink of my shoulders to the floor.

Dr. Miller laid down with his head against my bare chest just below my breasts and wrapped an arm around my midsection.

I didn't ask him again if something was wrong. I just held him there against me in the darkness. We didn't speak, but neither of us fell asleep until the early morning hours.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

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fandsart · 10 months

Text

To Be Friends

I’ve exaggerated some of Nancy’s negative character traits slightly in this story, but it’s also for the sake of her developing past them.

Robin usually sits alone, as sad as that is. It’s whatever; she’s comfortable with it. She can usually get some reading done without any interruptions. But it’s the first day back at school since they took down Vecna, and she’s pleasantly surprised when Nancy sits across from her. They smile at each other, a little stiff without a common goal they’re trying to work for.

“You packed a lunch today,” Nancy states awkwardly.

“Actually Steve made this for me. He always dotes more after, uh… notable events. Sometimes it’s just a particularly bad nightmare. One time Dustin popped a bike tire and Steve bought him a helmet after it was fixed. He gets spikes in paranoia when he’s reminded how easily things can go wrong.”

“That does sound like him. You should try dating him.”

Robin’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Is that a real suggestion?”

“Oh! No, I just mean that he doted on me all the time when he was dating me.”

“Yeah, he’s a real sap.”

There’s a lull in the conversation before Nancy speaks up again. “It is surprising you aren’t a couple. You’re both very attractive.”

“Uh… so? I mean, thank you? I mean… I’m not interested. He’s not my type.”

Nancy hums. “Don’t worry. I understand.”

“You… do?”

“I actually have dated Steve. It probably would have been smarter to be friends first. You’re smart that way.”

“... Thank you?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’m sure you’re well aware of the bullet you dodged.”

Robin chuckles uncomfortably. “Maybe? I guess that depends on what exactly you’re referring to.”

“You said yourself he tends to dote. It’s so much more extreme when he’s dating you. I don’t need to use his jacket for the one minute walk from the school to the car. I don’t need him opening doors for me. I can do that myself.”

“Uh-huh…” Robin says, trying to keep her eyes from squinting.

“And he gets so clingy. And emotional. I swear sometimes it was more like he wanted me to be his mom than his girlfriend, which is honestly so privileged. He cut off his friends for me, so it became my job to comfort him about it?”

“He was friends with them for a long time, and he didn’t have anyone else to talk to about it. He’d kind of just cut off all his other friends,” she tries to joke.

“They were assholes,” Nancy says, maintaining seriousness. “He shouldn’t have been so caught up on them.”

“If he didn’t realize just how shitty they were until you, then he must have had a lot of good experiences with them too. A lot to be conflicted about.” She knows this is the case, because Steve’s talked to her about it too.

“He shouldn’t have been friends with them in the first place.”

“So why did you date Steve for so long? Like a year, right? If he was such a shitty boyfriend? You shouldn’t have been dating in the first place?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because Steve was popular. Everyone loves him, but the only other person I thought might want me was too preoccupied to look at me. I waited a month with nothing. Can you really blame me for wanting to feel wanted and liked after my best friend died?”

“No, but I can blame you for using that as your excuse while apparently hating anything he did because he wanted and liked you. You literally started your complaints about how doting he can be.”

“What, like you don’t think it’s annoying?” And Robin knows what she means by that, but ‘annoying’ would never be the word she would use to describe it. Just… overwhelming sometimes. But understandable. “Besides, that was more of a pet peeve. You were the one who brought that up. There’s a reason I moved my complaints to him crying over his positive choices.”

And that startles Robin a bit. “He actually cried over it?”

Nancy rolls her eyes. “It was a hyperbolic idiom. But my point remains. Everyone loves him, but he was just upset that those two assholes didn’t anymore.”

“If everyone loves him why did no one turn up?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You say everyone loves him like he could have anyone, but you were all he had after Tommy and Carol immediately turned on him for pushing back one time.”

“You know what, that’s another thing. Why even be upset that someone who was willing to turn on you that quickly, did?”

“Well under that logic Steve should hate you then, shouldn’t he?”

“Oh, is that what this is about? Fine, go shoot your shot. I’m sure he’d love to have you. But don’t come crawling to me when he becomes too much for you.” With that she gets up from the table and sits at a newly vacant table.

Robin’s never ditched school before, but now she wants nothing more than to bike over to family video and hug her favorite person.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

She manages to talk herself out of skipping. She only had 2 and a half hours of school left after lunch, and none of the classes left were her best. Steve would take his break to pick her up anyway, so why put in the effort to bike all of the way there? Still, she has such a hard time concentrating on the last classes.

When she finally gets out, Steve is already parked in his usual spot, and she plops down into the seat.

“Bad day?” Steve asks.

“You know how you were hoping we could have some kind of outing with Nancy and Jonathan before the latter has to go back to California?”

“Yeah?”

“Scratch that. We’re not doing it.”

“What happened?”

She hesitates. She doesn’t want to be the one to tell him, but she also isn’t going to keep this from him. “Nancy told me that she didn’t like dating you, basically.”

“Oh, yeah, I know that.”

“And what, you're just ok with hanging out with her now?”

“I mean, it’s not her fault. She tried to like it. It’s not her fault she didn’t.”

“But it is her fault for not telling you how she felt about it. Let you think everything was fine. That’s leading you on.”

Steve shrugs. “It’s not like she was trying to do that. And it’s not like hanging out with her now would involve any kind of hope that we’d get back together. She didn’t like me as a boyfriend, but we can still be friends.”

“How do you know she likes you as a friend? If she lied to you about liking you as a boyfriend.”

“We should get to work before my break is up,” he says, putting the car into gear.

They don’t talk about it after that. They don’t talk much at all for the rest of the day.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

Robin doesn’t eat lunch in the cafeteria after that, not wanting to deal with Nancy again. She doesn’t necessarily know that Nancy would try to start up that conversation again, but even just seeing her in the hall sours her mood a bit, so she doesn’t need to be dealing with that.

So she’s sitting in an empty classroom eating lunch when Nancy finds her.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Robin glares. “Is this not mutually beneficial?”

Nancy sighs. “Look,” she starts as she sits in the seat beside Robin, “I’m not great at taking criticism. I’m a very defensive person. I’m not good at admitting when I’m wrong, but… I was, so…”

“So…” Robin prompts.

“So you were right. I just… needed to sit on all the points for a while before I could calm down enough to actually consider them.”

“Ok. But what are you going to do about it?”

“I’m… apologizing?”

“For what?”

Nancy rolls her eyes, but answers anyway. “For snapping at you, and not listening to what you were trying to tell me.”

“Ok. So what about Steve?”

“What about him?”

“Are you going to apologize to him too?”

“For fighting with you?” She lets out a confused breathy laugh. “I know you guys are close but is that necessary?”

“Are you serious right now?”

Nancy blinks a few times before jolting a little. “Oh! I was too focused on- yeah, I should. It’s just been so long I wasn’t even thinking about it.”

“Do you want to be friends with Steve?”

“What do you mean?”

“He still respects you, and wants to reconnect after… everything. I don’t want you to let him drag you to hang outs because it’s easier than denying a simple request, then blowing up at him about it later. Again. I don’t know if he’d come back from it a second time.”

“I honestly don’t know,” Nancy sighs. “If I want to be friends with him. I feel like… he carries an association… The whole year I was with him I was in mourning, and we only reconnected recently because of, as you worded it, ‘recent events.’ I just… every time I’ve been with him in one way or another… something bad was going on. I feel like being friends with him would just leave me on edge all the time.”

“Make sure he knows that then.” She picks up her now empty lunch tray and moves to leave the room.

“Wait, Robin!”

“Yeah?” she stops by the doorway.

“Can we still be friends?”

“I don’t know… But we can be more than not friends.”

“Yeah… I’d want to be more than ‘not friends’ with Steve too.”

“Make sure he knows.”

“Yeah…”

We never really see how Nancy responds to being wrong, because she’s never written to be. My headcanon for how she responds to it is that she gets really pissed, but after sitting on it for a long time she has a hard time denying when there’s an imbalance. She’s logical enough to know what’s right, but she’s stubborn, and bias towards her own perspective, so things like this do need to get pointed out to her and it takes her a while to come around.

#platonic stobin #stobin #platonic with a capital p #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #anti ronance #fanfic #ficlet #stranger things #fandsart

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

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Unexpected 33

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, car sex, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Making friends?” Lloyd’s terse greeting is exactly what you expect.

You sigh as you approach him bracing the door frame as he blocks your way. Your other hand goes to your lower back and you groan. You just want to sit down.

“Neighbour saying hi,” you match his tone, “excuse me.”

You gesture past him and take a step forward. He doesn’t budge and you lean back on your heel. He stares off over your shoulder.

“Lloyd, please, I was only being friendly–”

“Well, you shouldn’t be friendly to him. Tight ass and his goddamn hedges.”

“What? Would you please move? I need to sit down.”

His eyes fall to you and he squints, “what did he say?”

“Please,” you growl between your teeth, “your daughter is about to break my back.”

Exactly as you expect, the mention of the baby defeats him. He relents but not without an air of reluctance. He lets you through and closes the door slowly behind you. As you waddle through, you pause and glance back at him. He continues to watch through the window beside the door.

“Jeez,” you grumble and carry on, the cinnamon tempting a growl from your stomach.

You find the table already set for two. You’re even more surprised by that. You sit and struggle to get comfortable in the stiff seat. You’re almost out of breath as you try to adjust your posture around your stomach. You still have a few more months to go. You’re going to get even bigger.

Lloyd enters as you reach for the platter of pancakes and he swipes them up before you can. He puts three on your plate as you watch him dully. You feel that familiar twinge in your back. You should’ve stretched a bit longer this morning.

“Orange juice?” He offers.

You nod and plant your elbow on the armrest as you cradle your stomach. You don’t think you’ll be doing too much today. You don’t have the energy or the tolerance.

“You okay, peaches?” He asks as he pours the juice.

“Fine, just… damn kid likes to sap up my lifeforce,” you huff, “a lot like her father.”

He smirks proudly. It wasn’t meant to be a compliment but he takes even the merest mention of himself as such.

“So,” he sits, pulling up his chair as he fills his own plate, “names? I’ve been thinking of names. Now we know it’s a girl.”

“Lloyd, we have time,” you add a pat of butter to your stack, “can’t it wait? Preferably when I’m not eating?”

“No time better than the present.”

You hover your hand toward the syrup, just out of your reach the table presses to your bump. Lloyd shifts to help and slides it closer until you grip the neck. You notice how he eyes up your stomach. Ugh. Men are so fucking weird.

“Please don’t start with all those cliches,” you sniff as you drizzle the syrup, mouth watering at the scent of sweet blueberry.

“Look, I gotta be ready. Every dad needs a repertoire of jokes and–”

“Do you think you're cute?” You interject, “because you’re not. We both know this isn’t a goddamn sitcom. Neither of us is cut out for this.”

“Speak for yourself,” he says as he cuts into the fluffy pancakes. They are surprisingly well done. “I’ve been on some dad forums, you know? Trying to brush up. You see, peaches, I’m a Harvard man. I don’t do anything without extensive research. My job ensures that I always have the relevant intel.”

“That’s all fine and dandy, but babies don’t abide by whatever’s written in books or on forums,” you cut out a triangle and bite into it. Oh my god. You nearly roll your eyes back in delight. So fluffy and tasty. “Is this buttermilk?”

“Uh, yeah, mom’s recipe.”

“Wow, pretty good,” you shove a forkful into your mouth. You focus on your urgent hunger, smothering your agitation with the flavour of cinnamon and berries.

“Thanks, uh… well, anyway, names. How do you feel about something old fashioned? Like Elizabeth or–”

“Marion?” You offer.

He grimaces and drags the tines of his fork around the edge of the plate, “okay, fine, how about something more modern.”

“How about we table this talk until I care?” You ask, “apparently you’ve been thinking about this for a while and I haven’t even had a chance.”

“You haven’t? Not at all?”

“Not really,” you shrug as you shift in the chair, “you know, I’ve had other things on my mind.”

“Besides our daughter?”

“No, just… the name, that’s not exactly the most important part– Arghhh.” You drop your fork as you back spasm, “fuck me.”

“Gladly,” he kids even as he gets to his feet, “peaches?”

You sit back and touch your back, “it’s fine. I’m fine. It’s just this damn– stomach. Pulling on my muscles.”

“Shit, do you need help?”

“No, I’m good,” you grit out as you sit up, shakily grasping the arms of the chair, “It was just a spasm.”

“If you need to lay down–”

“I can finish breakfast,” you insist as you grab your fork, squeezing it tight as you force your hands to stop trembling, “thanks. It’s pretty good, actually.”

“Actually?” He repeats as he lowers himself cautiously back into his chair, watching you warily, “you didn’t think I could figure it out? It’s just reading directions. I’m used to giving them but I can take some from time to time.”

“I just assumed since you brought me all the way here to do just that.”

“Easy excuse,” he smirks, “I just liked seeing you in an apron… and not much else.”

“You like seeing me suffer. Let’s be honest.”

“Depends on the suffering.”

“Mmm,” you poke the pancakes and bolster through another pang, “how about… Abigail? That’s a nice name.”

“Abigail?” He scowls, “no, I don’t like it.”

“Hmmm,” you chew your lip. You really don’t care but you don’t want him to see how much pain you’re really in. You want to finish your food without him crowding you, “Suzy?”

“Suz–” he nearly chokes, “Suzy? Definitely not.”

“Oh? You know a Suzy?” You wonder.

He smirks, a subtle slant of his lips. He shrugs and waves off the suggestion, “I just don’t think that sounds right. Suzy Hansen… ew.”

“Alright, well, you seem to have a list prepared, so let’s hear them.”

“Funny you say that, because I do,” he reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone, “let me just find it.”

You grumble and have another bite, counting the pancakes left on the platter. You’re definitely going to have at least one more. If you have to entertain his fatherly farce, you’re going to need something to make it palatable.

💎

You lay on the couch, propped up against several pillows as the television blears in your eyes. You’re not really paying attention. The agony jabbing into your spine keeps you from doing much but wallowing. Besides, you don’t really care about the show. Without Harlan there to make his wise observations about the bug eyed boy, it’s just not as interesting.

You can hear the low tone of Lloyd’s voice through the walls. He’s not loud enough to make out his words. You figure he’s on a call or something. Maybe he’ll be leaving for another mission soon. What then? Another month away and another month closer to your doom.

You close your eyes as the sky begins to dim slowly outside. The cool breeze flows in from the open windows and eases you slightly. That’s the only thing that helps is relaxing but you find it harder and harder to do.

The moment of peace doesn’t last. The chime of the doorbell goes off and you groan. You contemplate getting up but can’t. Whoever it is, they can go away.

It rings again, drawing tight the tension in your muscles. Go away! No one’s home.

You hear a door and footsteps. You sense Lloyd in the foyer and hear him snarl as his fingertips tap across the tablet. He sighs.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” He snarls.

“Who is it?” You call lazily, putting a hand up on the back of the couch.

“I told you not to talk to that fucker.”

“Lloyd,” you push yourself up slightly and bite down on a grunt, “who is it?”

He doesn’t answer you as the front door swings open and you drop your head back in exasperation. You can’t even get yourself up to follow him. You just rub your forehead and wait. Shit, you know who it is. He said he’d be dropping by but you totally forgot.

You feel awful but maybe Lloyd will chase Andy far enough away that you won’t have to worry. As nice as he is, you just don’t need another stressor. Nor do you need your husband finding another reason to gripe.

You watch the screen, trying to unravel the argument between the two blondes and huff. You wiggle your toes as your impatience builds and builds. You hope it’s okay.

Fuck, as if you don’t know Lloyd well enough. He’s probably starting a fight. He wouldn’t do too bad on one of these sleazy shows.

You hold your breath and force yourself to sit up. You better go make sure there isn’t blood on the pavement. As you get to your feet and turn, the front door slams and Lloyd stomps through with a box in his arms.

“Jerk off,” he snaps as he turns into the living room and strides toward you.

“What’s going–”

“Baby clothes,” he drops the box onto the chair, “that fucking asshole. Acting like such a good guy.”

“Why are you so upset?” You ease yourself back to cushion and hiss.

He stops and grips his hips as he looks at you. He pulls the earbud out and lets it dangle by his collar. He runs his fingertips along his jaw and sighs.

“I just… I don’t exactly get along with that jackoff,” he puffs, “look, peaches, I know you’re not going to listen to me but you should steer clear of him.”

“I didn’t– I just said hi.”

“Yeah, well…” he waves to the box as he pivots on his heel, “next time, tell him to fuck off.” He shakes his head and grabs the earbud, shoving it back into place, “I’m in the middle of a job. We’ll trash all that after.”

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #series #unexpected #the gray man #lloyd definitely had dotty on a video call earlier to figure out the recipe

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writerpetals · 1 year

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press record (+halloween drabble) | 🔞

; optional female lead smut | ☁️

w: amatuercam!au, badgirl!au

From the first moment she glanced your way, you knew you were in trouble. The girl with a bad attitude, a love for mischief, and a temper to end all tantrums had taken notice of you from across the dining hall of your school, with her infectious smile that faded as soon as your eyes locked with hers. Maybe you were a target, or maybe you were just some new fun to her, but whatever it was, you knew you were in over your head the moment she said hello.

To her friends, she’s charming, cute, funny, kind, and would throw a punch in a heartbeat, making her more loyal than any other. To her enemies, she’s a nightmare, finding a way to get revenge for the most minor offenses, yet it teaches them a lesson not to cross her and they have no problems learning quickly.

But to you, she’s an addiction. Validation. A thrill and some sort of comfort. You’re by no means the shy, quiet student of your class, yet you’re not daring or bold like her. You’re not as confident and you can’t fight as hard as her. But you do need her, sometimes you think she might need you, too, and that’s what troubles you the most.

“Let’s film it,” she joked the first time she got you alone at her friend’s party. Her friend would have killed her if she had known what was going on in her parents’ room, yet she soon found out the moment the bad girl uploaded a picture to her private, incredibly exclusive social media page of herself licking the cum from her fingers after getting you off.

You warned her not to do it, yet your heart raced faster than any other time and you couldn’t deny how flattered you became. Even if no one knew which girl she had gotten alone that night, or even if her boyfriend at the time found out a bit later to cause the two to break up, to which she replied: “He’s a cheater, anyway. Fuck him.”

You can’t even explain it to yourself the satisfaction you earned that night, or the satisfaction you gain each time you’re with her, allowing her to take her frustrations out on you, uploading it for her shocked friends, complete strangers, and jealous boys to see, and no one ever finding out it’s you.

“Let me film you,” she whispers now in your ear, with the two of you alone in your dorm room. Your roommate is out for the evening, and her voice is a bit less joking than the first time. You know what she wants, and even if hints of you together have already been plastered all over the internet, she still wants more.

It’s a thrill. And it’s her. It’s hard to say no.

“You’re crazy,” you reply, chuckling as her kisses tickle just above your panty line. She’s comfortably between your legs as her mouth lowers, and she’s already gotten your top off, nothing but thin, flimsy panties in the way.

“Crazy?” she asks, then looks up toward you with a smirk. “Crazy because I want to film myself eating your pussy?”

“As if taking pictures of you licking your fingers isn’t bad enough.”

“Don’t you like it, though?” She presses kisses between words, eventually ending up with her lips against your mound, lowering to tease your slit over your panties. Your jaw drops at the sensation, unable to speak for a moment, so she continues. “Isn’t that why you’re with me? Because I’m so bad?”

Her playful tone teases you even if her eyes narrow, but you both know it’s the truth. Yet, you weren’t aware you were with her. The news makes your body shiver against the white cotton sheets.

“Seriously?” you questioned her. “What if someone-”

“No one will know it’s you,” she reassures you, just like she does each and every time. Sometimes you’re thankful, yet other times, you wish you could flaunt the fact that you’re the one in her pictures. “Promise.”

She continues kissing your slit through your panties. Easy, gentle pecks of her lips as you begin to soak through the fabric. Your thighs are shaking by the time she finds your clit swelling between your folds, adrenaline pumping through your veins because you can’t hide the fact that you want it just as much as she does.

“O-okay…” you finally agree, voice lowering to just above a whisper, and she whips her phone out of her back pocket of her jeans to hand to you.

“You can back out whenever you want.” You believe her, but the ache between your thighs won’t allow it. You need it just as much, because you love being the mystery person everyone is so curious about. “Press record if you’re feeling up to it, baby.”

Without hesitation, she slips your panties to the side while you fumble with the buttons on the phone, and the moment she swipes her tongue up your slit, you’re struggling to concentrate. However, you manage to press record as her tongue flicks over your clit, slowly at first before gaining momentum. Your hips buck toward her mouth, and you’re greeted with a pleasant chuckle that vibrates from your thighs to your toes.

The screen captures her teasing you, tongue caressing up and down, back and forth, and as she circles laps around the swollen, sensitive bud, you can hardly keep the device steady. All it takes is her lining her fingers up to your dripping entrance for you to lose control, dropping her phone against your stomach as your back arches and your head falls against the pillow.

“Keep… keep going. That feels… feels incredible.” Your whimpers slipping from your lips are heard in the video, but no one will ever make out it’s you. She is careful as she pulls away to take the phone in her grasp, continuing to pump her fingers in and out of your soaked slit while capturing the moment to upload.

“You’re so fucking wet,” she groans, voice straining as she watches the screen to see her fingers coated in your juices, and the sloppy sounds of her fingering you don’t go unnoticed. “God, you're dripping.”

By the time she ends the recording, she presses her thumb to your clit as her phone falls to the side, sending your thighs clutching around her hand while her fingers curl inside of you. The adrenaline pumping through you from being recorded only enhances the bliss surging through your body, and you can feel the pleasure swelling from between your legs.

“Come for me, baby,” she encourages, only seconds before parting your thighs and she’s dipping her head lower.

Her tongue presses to your clit, drawing out every little moan and whimper until the warmth is flooding every inch of your body. Her fingers pump in and out of your walls as she massages your clit, electricity coursing through you to every limb as you come undone before her. Your legs tighten around her, but she’s adamant on tasting every last drop that drips out for her. So much so, her tongue lowers to your entrance after she pulls her fingers from within, easing the tip inside as you tremble around her, licking up your cum until your body slacks against the bed.

By the time the pleasure settles, your thighs continue to shake when she pulls away. However, she is far from done with you, deciding to grab her phone and press record one more time. And this time, the screen captures her fingers caressing up and down your slit, a sheen of juices shining in the lighting to display just how hard she made you come, as if it were her own little trophy she enjoys sharing.

But you don’t mind being her dirty little secret behind the camera. In fact, you enjoy when she presses record, more than you probably should have.

***

Giggling and stumbling through the door, you follow her into her bedroom with a grip on her hand to keep steady. The rush of a sugar high from eating too many candies and the buzzing of feeling tipsy from having special Halloween-themed alcoholic drinks has you feeling warm and light after attending a party one of her friends threw for the festive season. She asked you to go with her, much to your surprise, and even picked out matching angel and devil costumes for the two of you perfectly equipped with glittery wings for you, shiny red horns for her, and masquerade masks to conceal your identities for the most part.

Which was good for you considering parties and crowds typically aren’t your thing, but when it’s her, you can’t say no. You snacked on food and danced with her, taking sips of different drinks until you felt the surge of carefree warmth filling your body. A couple of times you noticed a few eyes on the two of you, but you ignored them to turn your attention to only her, assuming they were curious of the masked angel and devil lost in their own little world. Or maybe they were still wondering about the videos she posted, dying to know if you were the one in them.

“Can you help me?” you now ask once inside the comfort of her bedroom, motioning with your head to the angel wings on your back, “these things are itchy.” The alcohol has worn off, though you still feel light and relaxed, but maybe it has more to do with finally being alone with her after a long night.

“Sure,” she giggles, reaching to tug on the silver straps of your costume, watching the wings fall to the floor in a messy pile only to leave you in a simple white dress and your mask. She keeps her own costume on, but slips the black, leather jacket from her shoulders to uncover the simple black tank-top beneath. It feels much chillier in the moment, you realize, and the night has you feeling a bit more bold.

“Come here,” you tell her, watching her smile widen a second before you pull her closer. Your lips fall over hers, feeling her body press against your own and listening to her whimper against your skin. You linger for a moment, feeling a wave of heat surge through your body that quickly turns into need. “I’ve wanted to do that all night,” you tell her the moment you pull away, watching her grin as her eyes sparkle and she bites her lip for just a second.

“Why didn’t you?” she challenges you with a raise of her brow.

“Hm, maybe because of all the people at the party?” Giggling, you lean in to give her a quick peck against her lips, and she pulls away laughing just as much.

“So?” Playfully, she rolls her eyes before taking your hand in her own and dragging you to the bed. “Let them watch us dance and kiss and make-out and… and this…” Your backs fall to the bed as she rambles on, until her words fade and her hand slips between your thighs. You can’t help the whimper that falls from your lips. Her fingers press to your clothed slit, feeling the warmth against her cold digits and causing her to moan in return.

“Are you sure you want them to see that?” you ask, giggling again as she smirks.

“Pretty sure they already have, sweetheart,” she replies, hinting at the videos she records of the two of you. Warmth fills your cheeks, but you don’t shy away from her. Even if the experience is new and something you never imagined yourself doing, you find it thrilling.

Never would you have guessed you would get so turned on at the thought of being recorded while with her, and then having her upload the videos for others to see. Never would you have imagined finding it exciting when people grow curious of you, but they will never find out because she is good at keeping her promises. Though, you’re sure the people at the party could put two and two together in guessing that you’re the one she records considering she was by your side all night, so you’re thankful she suggested the masks in the first place.

“Do you wanna…” Your voice falls short, partly due to her hand teasing between your thighs as the two of you lay on soft blankets in her small, cozy bedroom. The other part due to you being surprised at yourself you’re actually asking to be recorded.

“Do I wanna… what?” She smirks, pressing the palm of her hand against your slit to cup your pussy. The motion sends another wave of pure need through your body. An ache forms between your legs, causing you to squeeze your thighs around her hand.

“Have some more fun?” is all you can manage to ask, but she gets the hint.

“What did you have in mind?” As she asks, she draws her hand back to press two fingers against the base of your panties, right where your aching, throbbing clit rests to have your body tense as another whimper falls from your lips.

“Grab your phone,” is all you tell her, and she does as you say. You rise from the covers to settle your back against the wall, thankful her bed is pushed in the corner so the position makes it easier. She grabs her phone from the pocket of her shorts, handing it to you since you’re the one in control, she decides. Reaching out, you guide her body to you, allowing her back to press to your chest as she rests between your legs.

“I don’t know what you have in mind,” she begins, head falling back and hands pressing to your open thighs, “but I already like it.”

You giggle once again. “I want to touch you,” you tell her. “I want to make you come, and I want to record it.”

Just from your words she releases a moan. Just picturing it has her hot, and you feel the same. Quickly, you press a few buttons on her phone to unlock it and pull up the camera, carefully steadying the device with one hand while she relaxes against you. Her body slumps lower, giving you the perfect view of between her thighs just as she reaches to tug the buttons on her shorts and pull the zipper.

“Are you ready?” you ask her, feeling her nod against you as her head rests against your shoulder. Without another word, you press record, slipping your hand down her stomach and into her shorts. Your fingers brush over her panties as the camera catches it all, feeling the slick wetness of her arousal soaking through the fabric. She really was turned on by the idea, you think, and then realize it could be from kissing you, touching you, or all of the above. Either way, she’s turned on and you want to help her relieve the tension while capturing every moment of it.

For a moment, you only tease her just as she did you. Your fingers caress over her clothed slit, hearing her moan, but the camera only captures your hand disappearing deeper inside her shorts. It leaves something to the imagination, you think, giving everyone that watches just a taste to leave them wanting more. But slowly, your focus is pulled from the phone recording the two of you to just her. You want to make her feel good, pressing against her slit as her slick arousal drips into the fabric.

“Don’t tease me,” she whimpers, beginning to move her hips to grind herself against your hand. “I’m way too fucking horny for that.”

You giggle at her breathless, yet bold words. You can’t blame her. You can feel the warmth building between your own thighs, knowing your panties will be just as soaked. You pull away from her for only a second, just long enough to dip your hand into the thin fabric to finally meet flesh with flesh. Once again, she whimpers at the feeling, moving her hips, pressing her pussy into your hand to get more.

As you touch her, fingers slipping between her folds to feel her arousal, to feel how wet she’s become, the camera captures every sound. Every moan and whimper and every time you dip your fingers into her heat, covering your own flesh in her juices. Then you bring your fingers back up to her clit, circling slowly, falling into a rhythm that brings her close to the edge.

“Fuck,” she gasps, then whines as she grinds herself against you, her own fingers digging into your thighs, “don’t stop. That feels… feels so fucking good.” As if she’s forgotten that she’s being recorded (or maybe she doesn’t care) she lets go, only focusing on the pleasure you give her, giving in to the way you touch her, the way you tease and play between her trembling thighs. Your hand works quicker, driving her wild until she’s shaking against you.

But maybe she does remember the camera, you think, just as she begins to push her shorts and panties down her hips, shimmying from side to side for a second until your hand between her thighs is visible. You don’t stop, however, now giving the camera the perfect view of you caressing her swollen, aching clit, filling the space with the sounds of her messy juices. Just feeling how wet she’s become has your body on fire, and feeling her trembling against you while listening to her breathless whimpers and moans makes your own body ache for release.

“God, that feels so good,” she cries out, gasping and whimpering all over again, “fuck, I’m… I’m gonna come.”

Her words ignite the fire within you, and even more so as you feel her thighs tighten around your hand as she begins to unravel. Her hips roll against you and she reaches to grasp your wrist with a shaking palm. Curses and moans fill the air, breaths suddenly so heavy as the pleasure rolls through her body, and after a few moments, she begins to come down.

She’s whiny and needy as her legs fall open, entirely spent, but you’re still recording. A wicked idea pops into your mind a moment later, smirking as you caress down her slit and watching as her legs twitch from the sensitivity. Bringing the camera closer, the tips of your digits sink into her heat, allowing her messy juices to be heard after coming, pumping them a few times to really make it known how hard she came. She giggles because it becomes too much, and finally her thighs close once again as she pushes your hand away.

Finally, you stop recording, leaving her to catch her breath as you press gentle kisses against her temple. It will definitely be a change of pace for everyone that watches her videos to see her getting off, but you have a feeling they won’t be disappointed. Neither will she, you think, considering how turned on the idea made her and you hope it won’t be the last time you pleasure her while on camera.

#blackpink smut #marvel smut #twilight smut #harry potter smut #jennie smut #twice smut #dreamcatcher smut #red velvet smut #itzy smut #mamamoo smut #aespa smut #jisoo smut #girl group smut #gidle smut

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popcaki · 1 year

Text

Platonic Simon ”Ghost” Riley x reader - headcanons

Some general headcanons for Ghost, as well as Ghost x reader headcanons. This is all platonic stuff! I guess you can see it as normal friends or family things or just things that couples do that isn’t romantic or sexual. READER IS GENDER NEUTRAL!

there seems to be a big amount of smut fics, a bit overwhelming so I decided to just write some platonic stuff for anyone who needs or wants just platonic content!

note: I personally see Ghost as autistic and at least neurodivergent, so expect some headcanons related to that as well! (I am autistic myself)

also these might be in a weird order, sorry!

General headcanons for Ghost

He enjoys his personal time and whatever free time he gets by doing quiet and calming activities, usually on his own!

Simon finds a sense of peace in taking walks in nature, reading a book or playing a card game with himself, it’s very simple and not unique things, but it’s oddly calming.

However he needs to do something constantly, as it keeps his mind occupied. I feel like him being left alone with his thoughts could have him spiral a bit.

Him being autistic he probably masks a lot. Specially when he needs to lead and give commands, or in stressful situations.

He likes listening rather than talking! He’s always off to the side, avoiding the main group and conversation. As much as he likes attention he also tries to avoid it a lot. It’s a weird mix of both loving and hating attention. When in stressful situations or during a mission he only speaks when he has to or when he needs information. (He’s also very cautious)

I think if someone isn’t clear with what they mean, avoid, sugarcoat, anything but be direct. He would most likely get annoyed. He is extremely straighfoward and direct, and wants clear instructions and information. No side tracking, get to the point. I believe not being direct with him will cause him to feel uncertainty, not only is it important due to the military setting, but uncertainty would bring up some hidden anxiety in him.

He has a easier time talking to people he is comfortable with and trust! and of course, makes jokes.

I think he stims a lot more when no one can see him or in private. When in full view he masks and refrains from it, maybe tapping his fingers lightly or doing something subtle if he still has to stim.

Ghost most likely goes into shutdowns rather than meltdowns when everything gets overwhelming. He retreats and needs privacy, you won’t likely see him anywhere. Will not respond.

He can probably eat most things but has a few safe foods, and no not because he’s british but I do believe tea is one of them. I can see him liking some simple cookies/biscuits, likes the texture of it and it being very simple and consistent!

he has different special interests! he might not even be aware they are just that (defientely a thing for knives)

Headcanons of platonic Ghost and reader

Only way I see that reader can meet Simon is being in the military field themselves. I don’t think he stays in one place, moves around a lot when he isn’t on call/duty, this would make it hard to meet someone and remain in contact with if you’re a civilian.

It would take a bit for him to grow trust in you! not weeks, not months probably years. When I mean trust I mean the big and deep trust where he would express himself more and tell you things, not the ”I trust my teammate to be able to shoot someone who’s attacking me, because that’s their job”

Unless you can prove to him that he can trust you in a extreme way. Take this for as a gain trust quickly example, Soap, Alejandro etc not siding with Graves and defending each other including Ghost is a big step in building trust.

Once he grows more comfortable with you as well as trust he would probably crack some jokes with you and the rest of the team, however not too often especially during missions unless he needs to (Alone mission) He’ll be most likely hyperfocused on the mission alone.

Those jokes will range from dad jokes to very edgy just for shock value jokes.

If there is freetime or the team casually hangs out he’d be a bit more ”relaxed”(as relaxed as Ghost can be)

Someone will have to convince him to join for a card game you and the team are playing. He’d be very quiet and be thinking a lot in what his move would be and try to figure out what you and the others will do and so on. If it’s just you and him playing a card game, there won’t be much talk! at least from him, expect a strategic game.

He’s an awful loser as well as winner, his ego will get hurt if he loses, get all moody and sour. If he wins he would brag. He would most likely bring up you loosing in the game in the future as a counter argument or just to annoy you.

He takes things literally a lot of the time, if he asks you if you want anything and you say no to be polite, he will not get that thing for you. He cannot read your mind and probably won’t ask you ”are you sure?”

the only thing he would willfully make for you is tea, if you don’t like tea he’ll take the tea himself.

He’s not someone that would really make or give things to people, even friends. There is a certain independence he expects of you and others, being able to make, get and do things for yourself. He of course will help you in survival situations, have your back in combat and if you get injured bring you to safety and try to patch you up if no medic is available.

with time of knowing you, if he stumbles upon something he knows you like, anything really, from a movie, book, plant, supplies for whatever hobby you like! He might get it for you.

Ghost gives you (thing you like)

You: ??? ”Where did you find this?”

Ghost: ”In the trashpile over there.”

You: ”thanks?”

he does a slight nod and goes off to do whatever Ghost does, kill people

If he’s your superior expect more scolding from him if you do something irresponsible.

Whenever he gets comfortable with you, if a conversation leads to it or if you ask. He would 100% wanna talk about his special interests, I think knife collecting is one. He would know a lot about knives, models, history about them, and how to use them effectively and in different ways! He’d unintentionally infodump which might take you by surprised if you’re neurotypical or just not used to it from him!

Infodumping brings him joy even if he’d be afraid to admit, and if he becomes friends with you he’d love infodumping! He’d get into a lot of details so expect being there and listening to him for a while. He’ll tell you all about it when it comes to his special interests. If there is a book he likes, he’d tell you all about it.

Him joking or infodumping is the rare times you’ll hear him talk a lot more than usual.

Don’t peer pressure him into eating or drinking especially in public! Ignoring the mask wearing, he does not enjoy doing this in public. He prefers eating and drinking alone! but he’ll come back to you and the group after!

If you compliment him he won’t respond, he does not do well with positive feedback. (He also has a big ego and knows he’s good at something) (he does not thank Rudolfo after he compliments Ghost’s knife throwing) Despite not responding to your compliment or positive feedback, know that it does mean a lot to him!

Expect nonverbal communication or lack of communication, don’t take it personally. You’ll need to learn how he communicates, as he’ll most likely have already figured out how you communicate. Silence from him isn’t usually a sign of a hidden meaning or agenda, it’s genuine. (Sometimes he could intentionally go silent tho with a agenda)

I mentioned he has also a very direct way of communicating, he’ll be pretty blunt with you and the team. Talking when he needs to and only if he asks something. There won’t be much small talk.

Don’t take it personally if he seems rude he’s mostly likely actually not being intentionally rude. He is either silent or quick and direct because there isn’t much he can or wants to talk about. It’s hard for him to see a reason to talk to you about things that arent related to the mission, infodumping or just making silly jokes.

Him infodumping isn’t onesided by the way, he’s a listener too, you’ll probably sit there for an hour listening to him, but when he is done he would really enjoy listening to you infodump or just talk about your interests! (unless you’re on a mission or he has something to do, but he wouldn’t himself infodump in the first place if this was the case!)

Being able to just exist quietly in a comfortable silence together is something he enjoys with you and the team. It takes a certain level of being comfortable with someone.

If you, yourself are autistic or neurodivergent, I think you and him would have an easier time communicating, he would be able to understand you better and you him. This isnt saying you being neurotypical wouldn’t give the same result!

If you’re autistic too I could imagine you both be infodumping for hours, someone would need to interrupt you two otherwise you’d stop and find out 5 years has passed even tho it felt like 5 minutes

if you like to play videogames he wouldnt mind trying it out (he might even play videogames himself he just wont admit it) He’d be a very tryhard player tho so you two might get a bit competitive, or he might not even take it seriously. Who knows!

Don’t be afraid to joke with him! he enjoys jokes, sharing jokes would be some quality time spending with each other!

He won’t really ask about your personal life or past, I don’t think it would ever cross his mind, you would need to be the one who brings it up first. He would never ever try to disrespect your boundaries when it comes to your personal life, he wouldn’t ask about it unless you bring it up first, and if you don’t wanna talk about something regarding it he won’t push or stick his nose in, in anyway. He’s very respectful when it comes to other people’s past or personal life!

He wouldn’t mind helping you with training! He’d give you advice and tips! He’d give a ”good job!” or so when you finish or succeed with something! If you don’t train, he’d still give positive feedback for other things! They would be very short and quick feedback but he means well!

Despite his cold demeanour, he cares about his friends and team! Just remember that! He just shows it in his own ways. He might not comfort you when you’re sad or feeling bad in a way that is expected or what you expect.

If you’re sad he’d try to give you advice if that’s not right thing to do in the moment he would just kinda either leave you be to give you privacy, as he prefers privacy when if he were to get emotional, or he would just sit in the same space as you, hoping him showing you by just being there that you’re not alone.

At most he’d give you some awkward patting on the back, unless you made it clear you don’t want any physical touch! He’s super respectful of peoples boundaries when it comes to that.

If you’re autistic and have a meltdown he would react a bit more different! this also includes panic/anxiety attacks. He’d give you room and remove any thing that might be the cause of it/stress. He would not raise his voice in anyway, he’s likely be silent, talk calmly at most.

If you’ve stated what you need during a meltdown before, he will 100% remember that and do the things you’ve requested. He will not push you or put any pressure or expectations on you!

If this happens during combat or in a dangerous area, he would take the lead! he would make sure you’re safe and he will take watch and make sure the area is safe. He would never let his friend or team mate get injured or worse, specially during a meltdown so he’d do anything he can to help.

If you get exhausted after a meltdown, and even to a point of not being able to do anything. He’d help you out as much as he can, he’d would even give you a piggyback ride to any safe space if needed.

hopefully there isn’t too many typos, and nothing is too ooc, this is just how see Ghost mainly!

He may act all scary, cold and silent, but he tbh has a silly side to him, and clearly cares for his teammates. Trauma does affect people, by a lot, changes things and causes lots of damage. But it’s not the only thing to the character so it’s nice adding some stuff I think he would do and like!

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