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baddiewiththebook · 6 months

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ONE OF THE BOYS [PART 3]

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n Oh, my god. When I tell y’all that everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. I stayed up all night writing and editing just to get it out today, so you don’t have to wait another week when I’m off from work again. Yesterday, I was going to surprise y’all with a back to back upload, but when my laptop died and all of my content got deleted, I needed a pause. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Part 3 of a series I didn’t know would become a series.

[Part 2] Part 3

-> <-

You decide to wake up at five because your eyes wouldn’t stay shut any longer. Ripping the blankets off your body, the cool air nips at your skin. You shove your toes into your slippers. Tripping over your tennis shoes, you rethink how close you are to your desk. Feeling around for the corner, you find the desk and you begin to aim yourself the other way. You yelp when your waist collides into the doorknob and you silently curse to yourself while trying desperately not to wake your family. Shuffling through the dark, you take mini steps to your bathroom.

Closing the door behind you, you flick on bathroom light. Squinting, your eyes adjust and the shock of the bright room dulls. You use the toilet first, before your bladder combusts. While washing your hands, you meet your own face in the mirror.

Mornings weren’t your best look. Your hair mats to one side because you’re a side sleeper. Sometimes when your sick you’ll lay on your back to keep your stomach from getting nauseous. Instead of drying your hands on a towel, you toss them back into your hair to mold and shape what’s on your head. Massaging your scalp, you forget your worries for a moment. You wash your hands of the hair that sticks to your hands, and then you dry them off.

You bounce back from the shower when you twist the hot water handle. Water splashes in your face anyway. Steam breathes into your bathroom and you almost feel suffocated by the hot air. That’s what wakes you up in the morning. You strip, then step inside allowing the beads of hot water to bake your skin. The soap you use is plain and boring. It moisturizes the layers of your skin without leaving a scent behind. You watch the bubbles drain below you.

Leaving the shower is harder to you then getting back in. Your day will begin as soon as you step out. Going to school feels like a chore. Your classes all have projects due by the end of the week or by the end of the month. Then there’s the obvious boy you are trying to avoid. Before you can imagine any lewd situations between yourself and him (and trust that you have plenty), you switch off the water to your shower.

You don’t like washing your face in hot water, so you wait until your dry and you have a towel wrapped around your body. The icy water pricks at your pores. You dry, and you apply a thick layer of moisturizer to your skin.

Finding yourself vulnerable in a towel, and thrown into darkness once again because you have forgotten your clothes in your bedroom, you shimmy across the hallway once again.

When you choose a lotion, you act as though you won’t pick the same option you have been for as long as you can remember. The label reads ‘Fruity.’ Simple enough. Throwing on an extra spritz of perfume to compliment the lotion. You like to spray perfume while you’re bare to ensure the smell sticks to you, rather than your clothes.

Wrapping yourself in your robe, you want to take a peak at the sky. Rain clouds form above. Gray all day. You happen to, also, see that Eddie’s trailer is dark. Wayne Munson’s truck is on, and he’s in the driver’s seat waiting for the engine to warm. He goes to work early, and he stays late. That’s how you got to spend so many days and nights at Eddie’s growing up.

You’d tell your mom that you were spending the night with your friend Robin, and she would cover for you in a heartbeat. She must have known what was going on before you did. Did that even count - if you didn’t know?

You shy away from the window.

Going through your closet, you find an acceptable pair of denim that’s right on your hips and loose at your ankles. The striped sweater you call your favorite will scratch at you skin all day, so you put on a plain shirt on underneath.

If the you from a few months ago, saw you sitting at your desk whipping out all of the tools and the sponges that it took to apply makeup to your skin, you’d shrivel in a corner and cry. You got used to the feeling of the brushes against your skin. The way your face feels with a bit of foundation. And the sticky feeling of mascara pressing on your eyes.

As you finish powdering your nose, your stomach growls. Your hungry.

The sun is beginning to wake, and you’re able to move through the home a bit smoother. You find yourself in the kitchen pawing through the refrigerator. No one has gone grocery shopping in a few weeks, so your options are limited.

You take the box of Honey Comb cereal off the top of the fridge. A bowl off the drying rack will do, and there’s even a spoon next to it. You pluck out your mom’s cigarettes that she “hides” inside the box. She doesn’t count them when she smokes, so you know that you can sneak one into your pocket for later.

After pouring yourself a bowl of cereal, and stealing your mom’s cigarettes, you grab the milk from the fridge. It’s heavy. When you open the milk the rancid sour odor spoils your appetite.

“Jesus!” You curse.

The expiration reads about a week ago. Gross.

You toss the milk.

Even though you’re completely grossed out, you shovel a few bites of dry cereal down your throat. Dipping your head under the sink for a drink of water, you slurp down the crumbs sticking to the sides of your mouth.

By the time you’ve brushed your teeth, your watch reads seven fifteen in the morning. If you head to school now, you’ll be there by seven thirty.

That’s exactly what you do.

The drive is quiet. Most of the town hasn’t woken yet for their day. Shops still have signs in their window that read ‘Closed.’

You’re allowed into the cafeteria with the other early birds once you get to school. Finding a group of girls you’re in home room with, they welcome you for a study session.

“You look so pretty,” Michelle gushes over your makeup.

You smile. “You too. I love your shirt.”

“I got it on sale,” she tells you the name of the store. “We should all go shopping on Saturday.”

“Girls day out!” Lisa snaps her fingers. “Count! Me! In!”

The three of you small chat for a bit, before you dive into your awaiting assignments. They’re there to help you. You reciprocate the action when they want advise.

The school bell rings.

You pack up, and you wave goodbye for now. But, you’ll see them again in just a few moments when you get to class.

Heading to your locker for the first time in months, you have to try the code twice. The third time’s the charm. You take the specimen in your locker between your index and your thumb. Finding the nearest trash can, you throw the moldy sandwich away. At least the smell hadn’t penetrated through the bag yet.

You’re just zipping up your backpack after ridding yourself of about a hundred pounds of unnecessary textbook weight when someone shouts at the end of the hall.

Petty squabbles between students, you’re usually able to ignore. However, as all the noise is headed in your direction, you hear your name in between cursed and yells. A catastrophic tornado blows your way. Your feet are firm to the ground in terror.

Roxie’s purple, and about to blow a blood vessel judging by the vein nearly popping out of her neck. Hot on her trail is petite Indie, who’s begging for Roxie to just listen to her.

“Hey, you!” Roxie jabs her finger in your face.

Indie tumbled over her own feet, “Roxie!”

You check over your shoulder in hopes that someone might be there. No one is there except a few onlookers she’s drawn in her tirade. Now, you’re thinking. Eddie couldn’t have spilt the beans this quickly. Could he?

“Oh, I’m coming for you, bitch,” she snarls.

You’re toast.

Roxie is larger than you in all retrospects, but she’s especially big in muscle. If she’s about to pummel you, then you’ll be knocked over and split in two like a pin and she’s the ball going a hundred miles an hour.

“Can’t we talk this out?” Indie asks through gasps of air.

You stare between them. Indie isn’t after you by the worried expression she holds. Still unsure exactly what Roxie’s prattling on about, you decide to wait before you interject.

“Is there something going on between you and Eddie?” Roxie demands.

See, you knew their relationship wasn’t casual! Still, you did nothing wrong. Yesterday, you didn’t even express to Eddie that you liked him in the first place. You wanted to drop the conversation, and he kept going. This is his fault. Why isn’t he about to get a fist to the face? Who’s to say he hasn’t already? Yikes.

Roxie sucks her tongue to her teeth.

“Uh-,” you’re still loading in the information, and you hesitate to answer right away. “N- no?”

“Is that a question?” Her hot breath hits your nose.

You bring your hands down to your sides because you can’t let her see you trembling like a leaf. If she smells fear, she’ll know she’s won. Her prey is hers for the taking.

You’re tired of this. “Eddie and I have nothing going on. We’re just- just friends.”

You have a hard time saying that, but not for the reasons that Roxie has in mind. You’re not even sure if Eddie wants to be your friend anymore.

“Okay,” she sticks her tongue into the flesh of her jaw, and then says. “How come last night he moaned your name instead of mine?”

Blood rushes to your ears. Your face is on fire, and you’re sure everyone can see so.

Onlookers jeer and whisper amongst themselves. Rumors are already beginning from mouth to mouth; and, hitting ear to ear.

You would also like to understand what she meant by “moaning your name.” Spare the details. Obviously, you knew what happened last night. You wipe the winner’s smirk off your face, before Roxie even notices.

“I don’t know,” you fold your arms across your chest. “Shouldn’t you ask him?”

Roxie squares her shoulders. She clenched her fists until her knuckles are white. Cursing a few more angry words your way, she’s a bull ready to charge. You might as well be wearing all red.

“What’s going on here?!”

Miss Brown sticks her nose into the hallway and notices the crowd of people. Before anyone can do anything rash, she pushes her way into the center of the chaos. With an ostentatious sort of sigh that suggests she’s better than all of you, she starts breaking up the fight.

“Off to class,” Miss Brown shoo’s them.

“Let’s go, Roxie,” Indie grits her teeth.

Roxie eyes you one more time. “Fine. I’ll be seeing you later.”

You gulp.

It’s time to play a new game around school: Hide from Roxie! Winners get the very rewarding prize of not getting their face beat in.

You dart from class to class all morning. A huge target sticks to your back with Roxie aiming for a bullseye. Meanwhile, Eddie is still no where to be found. He’s probably hiding under his sheets at home, full of shame when he mistook your name for hers.

That’s just fine by you. You still didn’t want to see him either. Or, maybe you did. First, to clear the air about you liking him. A little flimsy crush isn’t going to break a friendship, right? You’ll get over it in time. Secondly, you’re sure that him naming you is a big misunderstanding. He just got distracted or something.

After lunch was over, you planned to sneak through Mr Campbell’s empty classroom. He doesn’t have afternoon classes, and you can easily shoot through since there is a door on either side of the hallway.

“Over there!”

Roxie has the cheerleaders involved now. No doubt they want a piece of judge, jury and conviction too.

Colliding into something solid, you topple over onto the tile. You’re swept away in thought and you forget to watch where your going. Mr. Campbell has that skeleton on wheels that he’ll leave just about anywhere. But, you haven’t knocked over that stupid skeleton.

It’s Eddie.

“Oh, God,” you rub your backside.

Eddie gasps, “What are you doing?”

“What am I-,” you snap. “What the hell are you doing? Your girlfriend almost tackled me like linebacker!”

Eddie shushes you. “Do you want her to hear? She’s not my girlfriend. I told you it’s casual.”

“Casual?” You want to yell, but you also don’t want her to hear. The last thing you need is for Roxie to see you in the same room as Eddie. “Whatever you have is not casual.”

“I messed up, okay?” He rubs his temple. “Jesus!”

Your chin lifts at the familiar brrring of the school bell. Now, you’re skipping class. You’ll get another hour of detention no matter if you stay here or go to class.

“You’re hiding from her too?” You conclude.

Detention doesn’t matter to Eddie. He just wants to ensure you’re okay. Judging by the way you’re creeping through empty classrooms, you’re doing just about as good as he is.

"I'm not hiding," he jumps when someone's locker slams. "Okay, so maybe I am hiding."

"This is so humiliating," you cry.

Eddie apologizes, “I’m sorry-,”

“You’re sorry?”

You’re grateful that the light in the room is limited. Otherwise, you don’t know if you could have a conversation with him right now. Eddie has these eyes that you could simply drown in.

“It was an accident,” he claims. “You’re the one who said-,”

“I didn’t say anything,” you correct him. “You’re the one with the wild imagination.”

“Wild imagination?!”

“Maybe I do like Jeff, hm? Or- or maybe I’ve come to realize that Gareth is a great guy. Did you think of that?” You stand before him, while he scrunches down into a chair. “Eddie Munson you’re selfish - no, you’re self centered. All about Eddie- it’s Eddie’s world and we’re all just there like puppets on strings.”

“You done?”

“No!” You snap. “Yes.”

“How could you call me self-centered when you’ve been prancing around this place like the rest of the guys don’t exist? Everyone wants to know where you are all the time. Why would I know? Oh, because you’re supposed to be my best friend,” Eddie rubs his hands across his face. “God, when did things get so complicated?”

"When you started calling me one of the guys in middle school, and I just wanted whatever you wanted,” you admit out loud. “Why do you think I changed when Gareth mentioned Roxie? I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Eddie’s unreadable. Although dark, you can see his thoughts bubble and burst.

“It doesn’t matter,” you continue. “You don’t like me like that.”

“Who’s to say that?” Eddie’s voice comes out barely audible.

You shake your head. “Don’t pity me.”

Eddie kicks the stool from under him, “I’m not.”

“Eddie,” you pick at your nails. “What we have is a great friendship. I’m lucky that you’re in my life. I don’t want to risk messing that up. Are- are you okay with that? Are we okay?”

Eddie doesn’t want to leave the air so broken. While the words are spelled out in front of him, he can’t find a way to bring them out.

“We’re okay,” he says.

-> <-

Flicking a green bean on his plate with a fork, Eddie can’t be bothered to bring the food to his lips. Nothing passes his mouth. He watches the ice crystals on his steak defrost because he doesn’t want Uncle Wayne to worry that he’s messed up dinner, since this is the first one they’ve shared in a while. Wayne told his boss that he wanted to be home tonight for Eddie, and here he is.

“You’re not eating?” His uncle points out because Wayne has eaten half of his meal, and he worries that Eddie is appearing a bit gray and slender.

Eddie replies. “I ate a lot at school.”

“In the years that you’ve been under my roof, you haven’t stopped eating,” Wayne lowers his head to meet his nephew’s eye. “Try again.”

Eddie pushes the microwaved dinner aside. A low hum comes from the television, and he’s not even sure what’s on. Someone’s bobbing around like a baboon trying to make a woman smile. Yet another attempt from Wayne to make Eddie relive his childhood, he guesses.

“That girl your seeing isn’t pregnant is she?” Wayne presses when Eddie won’t talk. “Eddie Munson, I’ve told you to use a condom-,”

“No,” he cocks his head to rethink. “No, she’s not.”

Even if Roxie was pregnant, she’d get an abortion and make Eddie pay for it. Actually, he still owes her for the condoms.

Eddie wants to be done with women for a while. But, there is still this pinching on his ears that reminds him you’re still there. He’s actually wearing a pair of your studs that you forgot at his house one day. Since Eddie is prone to losing just about everything, he’s decided to wear them so they don’t get lost. No one even notices except for him. They hide behind his hair.

“Look,” Eddie wets his lips. “If I tell you, then you have to promise me you won’t do that weird ‘oooh’ thing you do. Got it?”

Wayne claps his hands together. Say no more. He’s solved the case! That little lady across the park has had her eye on him since the day Eddie moved in. Wayne really likes her. ‘Thinks she’s a great ball of sunshine that can keep Eddie under control. He’s been just waiting for Eddie to wake up and smell the coffee!

“Really?” Wayne excites.

Eddie exhales. “Don’t-,”

“Wait,” he lectures. “You’re not seeing both of them are you? Eddie Munson that is wrong, and I won’t tolerate that behavior. I taught you better.”

“No-,”

“Seriously, boy. Wear a condom. It’s not just for you, but her too you know?”

“Wayne-,”

“You can’t be spreading your butter on everyone’s toast.”

“Wayne!”

“I knew it,” he blabs on. “Ever since I caught you two brushing each other’s teeth. Oh, I saw this coming - I did!”

That incident happened once, and Wayne would never let Eddie live that down.

You smoke one joint.

After sitting in his room complaining of boredom, you tell Eddie you had never brushed someone else’s teeth before. He hadn’t either. You wanted to try. But, Eddie would only let you if the offer went both ways. Wayne burst in when you were scrubbing his tongue. You splattered toothpaste all over the mirror, while Eddie tried to keep you from squirming so he could scrub your teeth.

“You need to learn how to knock,” Eddie tries sailing with the conversation his old man is going on about.

Wayne challenges. “You know there’s no closed doors when you have girls over, Eddie.”

“Oh, my God.”

Reliving the memory, Eddie wants to make more with you. Cooking. You’ll cook. He’ll burn food. You’ll tell him he’s doing a wonderful job anyway because you’re too sweet to tell him to get out before he burns the house down. Eddie visions that you’ll teach him a better way to organize his clothes. You’ve already tried to show him how to fold, but Eddie only lasted a week doing your method before going back to shoving the clothes in whatever drawer is the least bit full. He’ll now admit that he only let you teach him because he wanted you close. He wants you close. Always.

It’s not just domestic stuff he sees. He wants to take you on a date. Many dates. He wants to take you out of Hawkins, even if it’s for just a day. He misses your laugh. Seeing you cry today broke him. Knowing that you’ve changed everything for him, and he didn’t notice. Because at the core of all the makeup and the hair, he guesses, that he just didn’t care. He loves all the extra, don’t get him wrong, but all he can see is you.

“What are you going to do, boy?” Wayne wonders.

Eddie replies in a question, “What if everything goes wrong? I- I can’t lose her, Wayne.”

“Son-,”

“What if I just turn out like him? Like my father?”

Eddie’s lip quivers, as he bites back the tears he’s been holding onto for years. Not a day goes by does he not miss his father, even if the years weren’t kind to him. His father is locked away somewhere in State, but he hasn’t visited. They’ll take one look at Eddie and they’ll try to lock him away too.

“That’s not you, Eddie,” Wayne opens his arms. “Come here.”

Eddie drops his head onto his uncle’s shoulder. Tears slide down his cheek and across his chin.

“Deep breaths,” he rubs his hand across Eddie’s back.

He doesn’t cry for long, and Wayne wipes his tears when he’s calmer. This isn’t a usual interaction between them, but neither of them care. Wayne takes away a stray eyelash from Eddie’s cheek.

“You like this girl?” Wayne says as a fact more than a question.

Eddie nods.

“You have to try,” he insists.

“Yeah, okay,” his nephew agrees.

Wayne and Eddie end their conversation there. Eddie eventually eats (after microwaving the food because he could have broken teeth on that steak), and the show that his uncle makes him watch isn’t half bad. Their night comes to a close when his uncle snores.

Mouth agape, head tipped over and his feet propped up, Wayne would be out for the night.

Eddie tucks his uncle’s toes beneath the blanket Wayne was hugging. Tip toeing his way into the kitchen, he puts both forks into the sink along with their drinking glasses. The TV dinners find home in the trash can. While Eddie left the television on to lull his uncle in his sleep, Eddie flicks off the living room and the kitchen lights. He sneaks off to his bedroom, the only bedroom in the trailer. Wayne gave up the space for Eddie to grow into.

Eddie finds that sleep won’t do.

You project onto his ceiling like a film about his life. There you are. Every new milestone. Eddie didn’t think about just how many times you were there for him. His birthdays come to mind, even the ones he didn’t want to be there for because he doesn’t always feel like he deserves to be celebrated. You’d sneak off to get him a beer when his uncle was distracted with all the other kids invited.

When you kept him from going outside, while Wayne drove up in his brand new van that was a gift for Eddie when he got his license. Wayne took on extra hours just for him. That might just have been the night his heart beat a little faster for you. Watching you perform songs in your living room in that ridiculous feather boa and sunglasses, Eddie’s drawn to laugh at the memory of you out of tune and off key. You didn’t care. The hair brush you swore was a microphone was just not working that night. You’re much better performer in the shower, you’d said.

Eddie sits up in bed, and he can see that your bedroom light is still on. Your curtains are drawn, but your silhouette dances about. Bouncing up and down will sometimes get rid of your last bit of energy, Eddie’s witnessed your routine first hand. Your wild, and Eddie finds this fascinating.

When your silhouette disappears, but the light remains, Eddie concludes that you’re reading a chapter book. You told Eddie to try reading sometime because that’s what helped you get to sleep. He bought his first book that very same day.

The Lord of the Rings was your suggestion. Not that he hadn’t found it first, but he wasn’t about to point it out. Eddie sees the book hidden under a lighter he used last night.

Smoking seemed obvious to him. He couldn’t sleep, so he would light up. With Wayne home, though, Eddie didn’t want the smell getting to him. He’s pretty sure Wayne knows he smokes by now, and he doesn’t care. Eddie isn’t a reckless smoker by any means, and he keeps to himself. If Wayne found out he was selling, that would be a different story.

Never the less, Eddie reads page after page of the same book he’s been fascinated by for weeks. He immerses himself into the books wishing he could be the hero, rather than the one who runs in the face of danger.

Eddie hears your front door open and close. This interests him and tips his head up. Tossing the book aside like he’s suddenly been hypnotized, he looks through his window.

You’re on the porch in thin pajamas and a robe. A lit cigarette slots between your fingers. You only smoke when you’re stressed. Pacing back and forth, Eddie understands that you’re talking to yourself. He just can’t make out the words.

This is creepy. Eddie shuts his window, and sinks back in bed. Leaving you alone - leaving you alone.

The words in his book blur into blobs of unrecognizable text. All he can see right now is you on that porch. You’re alone - and you’re probably cold. He has a blanket that he could offer. Maybe he could- no, he is leaving you alone.

Eddie wants to untangle the knot he has in his belly. He even tries to convince himself that he’s still hungry. But, he knows he won’t eat. You’re there. Even if you were caked in mud, you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the world to him. Actually, he has seen you caked in mud before. You were definitely hot then too.

Oh, God. What was he doing?

Pulling open his closet now, Eddie finds a jacket to slip on over his pajamas. He takes an extra blanket with him. It’s a bit torn up, but the blanket is clean. Wayne washed the blanket a couple of days ago, along with Eddie’s sheets which he claimed he could smell from across town. Eddie was not that dirty. It was the weed - but, er - don’t ask about the stains. He doesn’t know what they are or where they came from. Seriously, don’t ask.

Wayne is still snoring in the living room. He mutters in his sleep when Eddie opens the front door, and he doesn’t see Wayne stir once the door shuts.

His uncle stretches, and wakes up enough to take a leak in his bathroom. By the time he returns to the living room, he catches a glimpse from the window in the living room. His boy is with you on your porch making you smile and making you blush.

Wayne doesn’t need to spy. He’s seen this movie before when his brother made moves on his girl. It’d be a few more years until Eddie is born, but the picture is already there.

“Atta boy,” Wayne cheers to himself.

Eddie’s sitting with you, and sharing a cigarette. You’re not sleeping either. Dried black makeup you haven’t smudged off is stuck under your eyes. He wants to swipe it away, but he doesn’t know if he should.

“Is your mom in tonight?” Eddie asks.

You shake your head. “No, but my dad is such a deep sleeper. He’s nothing to worry about.”

Eddie worries about your dad catching him there with his only daughter, then your mom who likes to call you both “crazy kids.” Your dad is stern. Overprotective. He’s jokes about having a gun locked away somewhere, but Eddie still has no idea if he is joking. You won’t tell him because truthfully you don’t know.

“What’s got you up?” Eddie brings the blanket closer to you because he sees your shoulders dance.

You shake your head blowing out smoke to the left where Eddie isn’t.

Eddie takes a drag from the cigarette after he says, “I don’t think I’ve been all that honest with you.”

He reads your face.

“Not like that,” he can’t look at you, so he counts the floorboards of your porch. “I said we’re okay, but I don’t think we are.”

Your heart skips in your chest. “What do you mean?”

While Eddie might not be able to look at you, your eyes are all on him. In the moonlight, he’s like this shiny thing. You can’t put your thoughts into words, but he’s carved by the shine of the moon. He might hide his face with his hair, but when he hunches over you relax a bit.

You haven’t been able to put yourself in bed. Knowing that Eddie was there had wrecked your mind. You’re itching to be near him.

The whole day you thought about nothing, but him. How unsatisfied you are with your earlier conversation. You thought being the one to take charge in the conversation, and assert yourself, might make the blow easier. Truthfully, it hurt even worse.

You spent the evening sobbing in your room like a baby. Friends. You signed your name at the bottom of that contract. But, then, you thought about the day you’ll find a nice boy that will like you back. You’ll get married. You’ll get a house. Everything will be okay. But, as you thought about your life, your mind wondered about Eddie. What happens when he finds a girl? He’ll have a wife and he’ll have a house too.

You’ll be at that wedding. Sitting in a chair that’s not too close to the front, but also not all the way in the back. The band sits in front of you. They might not be able to pronounce the brand name, but their check cashes on their suits. All of your friends are his friends.

Eddie’s fiancé is faceless, but her gown is breathtaking. They’ll say ‘I do.’

You’ll cry along with them, but the tears you shed are ones you let out at a funeral. Are you just supposed to sit there and pretend like you don’t want to throw up?

Because that’s not you standing at the alter.

That’s some chick he’s met on the road while he tours with the band. Sure she’s great. But, the sight sickens you. Maybe that means your selfish, but you can’t do this. You can’t see Eddie with another woman. You refuse to see it because Eddie’s always been with you.

“I’m sorry?” You’ve spaced out while Eddie is speaking.

He begins to say, “please don’t make me repeat myself.”

Throwing the cigarette to the ground, you stamp out the flame. You wrap your hands around his neck, and you pull him forward. Eddie's lips meet yours in an awaited embrace. Longing and passionate. His hands burrow into your hair pulling you ever closer. The tender touch of his fingers fall to your waist to tell you he's not going anywhere.

You can't be sure which one of you pull away first. But, when your eyes open you breathe a sigh of relief. Eddie is still there, and he's about as hot in the face as you feel. You let out a breathy laugh, and he hides his grin behind his hair.

It doesn't take long for him to ask,

"Can I take you out sometime?"

And, of course, you say. "Yes!"

-> <-

tags: @hellfirenacht @queercodedcharacter @ogoc-19 @littlewinchester1 @stardustingold @ghost4love @spenciesprincess @animechick555 @foggyfooz @aactuaaltraash @loves0phelia @sofaritsalrightt @thisisktrying @somethingvicked @sebastiansstanswhore

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson preference #eddie munson imagine #angst #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things preference #stranger things fic

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loveinhawkins · 19 days

Text

ao3

A gnawing sense of foreboding creeps up on Steve as they head to Eddie’s trailer, armed with weapons.

He tries to outrun it through action: ensuring he’s the first one to go through the Gate; jumping back and forth between The Upside Down and their world whenever someone forgets something, “It’s okay, I’ve got it!”; triple checking that the cables for Eddie’s amps are long enough; searching for the slightest thing than seizing upon it with an enthusiasm bordering on desperate, “Hey, we could use this, right? Better take it, just in case.”

But that only works for so long, and then Steve’s just standing in Eddie’s kitchen, the real one, staring blankly at the cupboards, all out of distractions.

Out of time.

He hears a grunt of exertion behind him, then an unsteady landing, a muffled curse. Eddie.

“Jesus Christ, Steve. Wanted to fit your aerobics routine in?”

He’s teasing, so light-hearted despite it all; Steve can’t stand it.

Keeps his back turned, gut twisting, opening the cupboards then slamming them shut, thump, thump. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for. He never has.

“Uh, so I was thinking,” Eddie continues, like Steve’s not doing anything weird, “that I could stretch out the, um, the song? My playing? Could buy you some more time, anyway.”

“Sure, great,” Steve says shortly.

He thinks—with a numb kind of calm—that he’s going to be sick.

He gets to the bathroom, tries to shut the door, but his grip slips on the handle.

Turns on the faucet, scoops cold water from his hands into his mouth, and it helps until it doesn’t, until he’s almost choking on it, and he’s been here before, the feeling familiar: a shadow looming over him, just waiting, waiting, and he knows it’ll pass, it always does, but he can’t stop thinking of Robin, it might not work out for us this time, and what if, what if—

He can hear Eddie knocking on the doorframe, just out of view—as if he’d seen Steve’s failed attempt at shutting the door and wanted to respect it.

“Hey, man, you okay?” Then Eddie mutters to himself, “Obviously not, get a fucking clue.”

Steve’s laugh is strangled but real. He wipes his mouth dry and shuts off the water.

“You don’t need to talk to a wall, dude,�� he says.

And Eddie steps into view, leans against the open door. His eyes flicker across Steve’s face, and Steve doesn’t want to know what he’s noticed, so when Eddie opens his mouth hesitantly, he speaks first.

“We should—they’re gonna wonder where we are.”

Eddie pauses on the verge of speech; Steve watches him reevaluate whatever he was going to say.

“Well,” Eddie says, gesturing to the bathroom, matter-of-fact, “we could be peeing.”

Steve manages a chuckle. “You’re an idiot.”

Eddie grins like he’s saying yup, that’s me, like he’s won a prize.

Steve has seen him wear something close to that expression not even an hour ago: when the kids had started a line to use the bathroom in the RV, and Eddie had snorted, giggled with a childish kind of delight, “You—ha! You all look like you’re on a field trip,” before joining the line himself—calling out that he hoped their plan accounted for bathroom breaks because, “There’s no way I’m pissing in the alternate dimension,” and that had made Nancy break, laughing in a way Steve was certain he hadn’t heard since ‘83.

Eddie steps into the room and shuts the door quietly. Steve gets why: his breathing’s still all wrong, and if Dustin happened to see him, he doesn’t think he’d ever forgive himself.

“Sorry.” Steve sucks in a breath, tries to hold it. Loses it in an exhale that shudders at the edges. He speaks through the tail end of it, hoping that’s enough to conceal the sound, “Gimme, like, two minutes.”

“Make it ten,” Eddie says.

The way he says it makes it seem like it’s already a done deal; he must’ve spoken to Robin and Nancy before he tumbled through the Gate.

Despite himself, Steve feels a wave of relief: just for a little while, he has time; it overpowers the shame, leaves him sinking down to sit on the closed toilet seat.

He closes his eyes, just breathes. In… out… in…

He doesn’t realise that Eddie’s sitting down, too, until he hears the clunk of his boots, the rustle of clothing as he moves.

“Sorry,” Steve says again, and it annoyingly still comes out a little shaky, like he’s in the pool and he’s left it too long to snatch a breath. “You can go back, man, I’ll… I’ll be right there.”

He opens his eyes to see Eddie shaking his head, sat with his back against the bathtub.

“Stop apologising,” Eddie says, and then it’s as if the seriousness of it is too much for him, because he adds, with a self-deprecating smile that Steve hates, “I get it. You’re walking into the dragon’s lair, I’m just putting on a concert.”

“Don’t,” Steve says, and he doesn’t intend for the word to come out as sharp as it does, but that doesn’t change the fact that he means it. He means it.

Eddie’s smile fades.

“Don’t,” Steve repeats, quieter. Not quite an apology.

Slowly, he moves off the toilet seat, until he’s sat next to Eddie. There’s just enough space that they don’t need to touch, but Steve presses his shoulder against Eddie’s anyway, like he can somehow pass on everything he means through that alone.

Eddie sighs, presses back for just a second. “Don’t what?” he asks. He sounds tired all of a sudden.

“Don’t—don’t joke like that,” Steve says. “Like you’re not—” He swallows. “Like it’s not dangerous.”

There’s a pause. Eddie reaches across and puts a hand on Steve’s knee. Squeezes briefly and pulls back; already Steve finds that he misses the warmth of him.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Eddie says. There’s no joke in this, not a trace. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to Dustin.” Another smile. Gentle. “Swear on his mother.”

I’m not worried about that, Steve wants to say, but of course that’s not true; he’s tried hard not to look at Dustin directly ever since they arrived at the trailer, because his throat would start to close up alarmingly whenever his gaze lingered, and he knows the kid’s doing that whole semi-aloof teenager thing lately, but a part of him still wants to hold him tight and never let go.

It’s more that the shape of Steve’s worry is different to what he thinks Eddie’s imagining, covers more than Dustin’s safety alone—that the cold dread in his stomach brings him back to the tunnels in ‘84; to clutching Dustin, who was so small, Steve desperately trying to shield him with his own body, thinking the kid’s thirteen, only thirteen, this isn’t fucking fair; and that if this had to end one way, all he could do was pray that he’d be the only one to…

And Steve hadn’t wanted to die, but he was suddenly facing it anyway, and Christ, looking back at it, that was crazy, the whole damn thing was crazy, but it all made a twisted kind of sense at the time.

Eddie must spot that his train of thought’s gone down a dark alley because he knocks their knees together, but he doesn’t say anything. Just breathes, slumped against the bathtub; it’s probably the first time he’s been still—truly still—in a long while.

He must be exhausted, Steve thinks.

The gnawing feeling digs in, grips his heart.

“I can hear you thinking,” Eddie says quietly. “Listen, Steve, I know I’m new to, uh… all of this shit, but I’m on it, okay? Got it all up in here,” he taps the side of his head, “trust me—”

That’s not what—I trust you, of fucking course I do, but—

“—no deviations, and—”

“Plans change,” Steve says, and he hears himself, the calm decisiveness, just get ready; Dustin’s scream carrying across the junkyard, Steve, abort, abort! “Just… just promise me.”

“Promise you?” Eddie murmurs.

Steve feels the words on his tongue, the weight of them. Don’t do anything stupid.

He swallows them down—afraid suddenly that if he really puts a name to it, it’s going to happen.

Fuck it, he’s exhausted too, and for a long moment he evades speaking: gingerly rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder. Feels his body heat, the swell of his breathing.

Eddie doesn’t tense up, just lets him rest there.

If I kissed you, Steve thinks, drained, would you stay?

He doesn’t say it. Instead he lifts his head and asks, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Eddie chuckles. They’re still so close, Steve can feel his amused sigh.

“Tomorrow? I’ve not really… like, hopefully I’m not in jail. Anything else is a bonus.”

“We’ll fix it,” Steve says fiercely. “Trust me.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Eddie says, grinning fondly, but he sounds genuine. “Shit, man, I think you could do anything.” He gestures outside. “Got the fucking dream team out there.”

“We solved a secret Russian code last summer.”

Eddie laughs. “Did you?” His eyes sparkle with mirth.

You’re beautiful.

“Gospel truth, I swear,” Steve says. He tries to stay light, but he makes the vow anyway. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

I have so much to tell you.

They stand up, and Steve doesn’t know who’s the first one to move—just that they both probably sensed the time dwindling.

And maybe it’s that, the inescapable thought that something’s coming to an end that does it. Steve doesn’t know for sure, just knows that his eyes are burning suddenly—mortifyingly—with tears. He looks up at the ceiling, hurriedly trying to push them back, but Eddie notices anyway.

“Steve, what is it?” he whispers, with a look of utter devastation.

Steve shakes his head. “Just being stupid,” he says, voice brittle, cutting himself off before he can say something ridiculous.

God, Eddie, let’s just stay here and grow old.

“You’re not stupid,” Eddie says, heartfelt—he stops just short of touching Steve; he clearly wants to help so badly, but he doesn’t know how.

Steve wants to tell him it’s fine. He doesn’t know either.

Maybe nothing can help this.

They leave for the Gate in unspoken agreement; at first Steve finds comfort in the sight of Eddie dangling on the rope, not quite in either world. Like every possibility is laid out before him.

I’ll tell you tomorrow.

But there’s a near imperceptible shift as Eddie keeps climbing, and Steve needs to look away, anything to avoid the pit in his stomach: the suspicion that the path’s already been chosen.

#they’re all just scared kids #Steve “desperately trying to escape a tragedy” Harrington #Eddie “if I make a joke it isn’t real” Munson #steddie fic #pre steddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

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ozzgin · 1 month

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Can I have yandere Aka Manto x Reader? I see you write Japanese myths, cuz why not?

Yandere! Urban Legend x Reader [Aka Manto]

You never know when you're going to meet your soulmate. It could be on a beach at sunset, on the last bus home, in the elevator of an office building...Or in a public bathroom after you just finished your business. Nevertheless, this urban legend monster has its eyes on you now.

Content: gender neutral reader, urban legend, part horror part comedy, gore!, monster romance

"Are you deaf? It's occupied!" you shout one final time, giving the door a swift kick to emphasize your presence. That's what you get for using a public restroom. Your coworkers had convinced you to try out another bar after the company dinner, and you might've had one too many cocktails. Thankfully most of the drinks were watered down, although it is exactly because of this detail that you're now hovering above a toilet seat with a full bladder. On a Friday night, in the partying neighborhood of the city, so it could explain the persistent stranger - possibly even drunker than you - who keeps rattling the lock of your stall.

To your horror, the handle begins to turn, and you hear a click. You scramble to get up and secure the door, but it's too late. With your pants halfway down, you gawk at the bizarre individual squeezing his way in: a tall figure wearing a red cloak and a mask. "What the Hell?" is all you can mumble to yourself, awkwardly gathering your garments in order to preserve your remaining ounce of dignity. Out of all the things to happen tonight...Alright, calm down. It's most likely a crackhead. You cast your eyes down and focus on the floor tiles, with patterns strategically chosen to hide as much grime as possible.

Pretty. Almost too pretty to kill. He might just take his time with you and savor the moment. Of course, you'll have to answer his question first. With bureaucratic efficiency, he pulls out two rolls of toilet paper and extends them to you. "The red one, or the blue one?" he asks with theatric gravity. What in the Avon samples Hell is this, you think, fidgeting nervously and avoiding any eye contact still. If you ignore him, he should lose interest.

A minute passes in heavy silence. His ghastly arms begin to tire, so he lowers them with a disappointed creak of the joints. "Y-you have to pick one", he insists. Damn it! Perhaps you've been told what to do if approached by mischievous spirits like him? Ignorance means you keep your head, though he was hoping for a gory night of entertainment. You can almost feel the intense stare coming from behind the eerie mask. The tension becomes unbearable, so you finally decide to push your luck. You will not spend the night stuck with a deranged pervert looming over you in a public bathroom.

Without further delay, you shove him aside and open the door. He lets out a surprised hum, observing your daring gesture and almost expecting you to run for your life. To his even greater shock, however, you stop to wash your hands with a relaxed whistle, completely unbothered by his presence. What happened to the fear, the terror, the dread? You peek at his reflection in the mirror, and your lips curl in a mocking grin. Maybe it's the alcohol finally hitting your nervous system, but all you see right now is a pathetic charlatan who tried to intimidate you with literal toilet paper. A good-for-nothing scoundrel interrupting the innocent from their much-needed bathroom break.

In fact, the more you consider your situation, the more your chest puffs with outrage and bravery. You pay your taxes, you help the needy, and this is how your civic deeds are rewarded? By having your stream cut midway? Unbelievable. Unacceptable. No other soul shall suffer your fate tonight. "Wretch!" you cry out, turning towards the aggressor and continuing your demands: "Evacuate the premises at once!"

You might not understand it yet, but your act of defiance has sealed your fate. The hooded monster smiles, relishing the words that have closed the gap between your fragile body and his blasphemous claws. You have spoken to him; thus, he can do with you as he desires. And yet, his murderous fingers hesitate. Your entrails should be splattered across the rarely polished porcelain by now. What's holding him back? He tilts his head in contemplation, but any intention to ponder his feelings is quickly discarded once a loud shriek pierces his ears.

As it turns out, someone else had been using the neighboring stall and was alerted by your little argument. Their finger is pointed at the cloaked creature, features twisted in disgust and fear. "Can't you tell we're busy?" The mysterious man inquires sarcastically. On second thought, this should be enough to satisfy his cravings.

With a snap of the fingers, the frightened bystander is torn apart by invisible hands right before your very eyes. Their limbs detach with surreal ease, and blood splatters everywhere in hot, sticky bursts. In your petrified daze, you are reminded of nature documentaries: blurry snippets of sharks trashing their victim around, fleshy chunks coming undone from the violent handling. Within seconds, the bathroom is quiet again. The walls and ceiling are drenched in fresh blood, and occasionally, fat droplets collapse into a puddle with resounding echo.

It all falls into place. The hooded creature claps its hands, startling you back into awareness. "That's what it was!", he says with enthusiasm. He approaches you with quiet steps, cushioned by the meaty remains coating the floor. He places one hand over the mask, removes it, and gives it a shake as if to clean off the crimson fluid. You involuntarily gaze at his face, taken aback by the handsome traits. Is this the appearance of a ruthless ghoul who butchers mortals for amusement? You wouldn't believe it if it wasn't for the hot trickle of foreign blood trailing your skin.

"I think I've fallen in love with you", he confesses with a wide, saw-toothed smile. You feel a clawed finger tracing your cheek affectionately. "Well? What're you so silent for? You were quite cheeky a moment ago!" he continues tauntingly, gripping your chin and forcing you to look up. "Or have you seen what happens when you misbehave? No, no, darling, I'd never! There are other ways in which I can ruin you."

You're suddenly very cold. With dry lips, you eventually open your mouth to speak: "I'm not leaving here, am I?"

"You could, but that would make me very upset."

#forgive me anon I tried to be serious but the temptation of the piss stalker was too great #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere monster #aka manto #aka manto x reader #japanese urban legend #yandere headcanons #monster x reader #yandere monster x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #horror #horror x reader #monster x human

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taegularities · 9 months

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heaven to you (teaser) | myg & jjk (m)

Summary: A casual hook up morphs into a fierce fever dream when roommates slash best friends Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook bring heaven and hell to you – all at once, in one single night.

➳ pairing: Yoongi x reader x Jungkook ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: kind of fwb, threesome, college au; fluff, hella smut ➳ warnings: lmfao buckle up, there'll be quite a few warnings for this one :') yoongi and oc are fwb, teasing, flirting, kissing booth stuff, jk wears glasses and has long hair (manbun beloved), yoongi and jk are both so cocky :'), but so is oc, sexual tension, mid-sex convos, threesome ofc, dom yoongi n jk, explicit sexual content, such as double penetration, degradation, spit stuff, manhandling,.. (will expand on this once the full thing drops – but it's a whole lot 😄), they do some weird ass stuff during sex lol but it's such a fun piece, aftercare, valentino yoongi and ck jk!! THE ENDINGGGGG LMFAO ➳ est. wc: 12-15k 😁 1.5k for the teaser!! ➳ a/n: so :’) this had been in planning since? december? i knew i wanted to do a lil something for the milestone, but that lil something turned into… whatever demonic hell this is LOL. back to the ruin you days, i guess. am super excited for this to finally drop. gonna give y'all the best version of it possible, love you <3

MASTERLIST | WIPS | TAGLIST

No matter how fatigued you feel, you’re determined to see this thing through.

Today’s event might have tired you out, but Yoongi’s tongue was quick to bring you back into the land of the living. You’d never admit it to him, but no college responsibility could force you away from the sins he always offers to you.

And two rooms from here, he’s waiting to send you down that spiral again.

You shudder in excitement.

You lift your body off the toilet seat and wash your hands; one last glance into the mirror as you crack your joints. You’d put a gym session into tomorrow’s schedule, but tonight might just serve as exercise enough.

Deep breath in, you step out with strengthened enthusiasm. You brace yourself for whatever’s to come, but what you don’t expect is the presence awaiting you outside the bathroom.

Your fingers halt over the door handle; a light smile creeps upon your face when you see him leaning against the wall.

Eyes shift from bottom to top slowly.

He’s gorgeous. Sculpted and tall. One of his legs is angled, heel against the wall; so you see how thick and strong his thighs are even through his baggy joggers.

And you don’t think he had his hair in this damn bun before; it presses against the wall. Combined with the glasses on his nose, he emanates some type of… innocence.

But you know Jeon Jungkook. And he’s far from the purity you’re so foolishly perceiving right now.

His head moves when he registers your light steps, meeting your eyes so nonchalantly that you trash all prior thoughts of innocence once and for all. You don’t ask what he’s thinking or what he wants. You assume he was merely waiting for his turn to enter the loo.

Jungkook’s plans for tonight, different from yours, probably consist of taking a good shit, seeking a filling meal and drowning in a good night’s sleep. That’s what you think, at least.

But as you move across the hall and towards him, he doesn’t walk past you, doesn’t target the bathroom.

Instead, he keeps looking at you.

And something in his gaze suggests that he’s not quite done talking to you; something of the awkward conversation in the living room still remains.

Yet, he doesn’t speak.

So, you do, “What?”

“Hm?” he voices, a head tilt suggesting surprise, but you know he’s fucking with you. “Nothing. Was gonna pee.”

“Right.” You don’t move from your spot yet. Fold your arms under your chest. His pupils flit down for a second and then up to your face again; weirdly proud, you press your tits up some more. “Then go.”

“Alright, boss,” he rolls his eyes at you, pushing past you with a light brush of your shoulders, “I’ll go.”

And he does. Doesn’t mean you trust him. So you remain and wait.

Wait a minute longer. When he comes out, you’re still standing there.

He doesn’t look surprised. Just trudges towards you with half damp hands in the pockets of his sweats, sly smile on a pretty face until you speak and it drops.

“Was that off putting to you? You really don’t want it?”

There’s a rapid upward movement of one of his eyebrows, and he feigns the confusion perfectly as he asks, “Want what?”

“To join us.”

He puffs out a mocking laugh. Looks to the side, enough for you to admire his chiselled features. A jaw as sharp as a razorblade. Mole on his neck. Wanna kiss.

Then, he asks, “You were actually serious? Like, you still are?”

“Do I look unserious to you?”

Your blinking is supposed to be cute, but he doesn’t fall for it. You clench your jaw; you know he doesn’t want to reject you. You see it in his movements.

So you try, “Or are you just not made for it?”

Which seems to trigger just the right amount of ego in him. Because he laughs again, forming a circle with his lips, and lets out a little, “Ohhh,” as though you’re challenging him. Which, in some ways…

Before you know it, his scent wafts towards you. Soapy, pleasant. He’s close enough to trap you — which, to your surprise, he suddenly does.

One arm on each side of your head, he closes in. Your head moves immediately, your gaze set on his colourful tattoos. When you look at him again, the infuriating, lopsided signature smirk makes your eyes roll — a coping mechanism in a situation like this.

You won't reveal that the sudden movement sent a shiver down your spine, or that you held your breath for a moment possibly long enough for him to notice.

So eye rolling it is, disguising the wavering self-control as annoyance when he explains, “This wouldn’t be my first time, babe. Yoongi and I don’t mind sharing.”

His breath is warm, minty. Did he chew gum before?

You gulp.

“But,” he continues, tilting his head; you nearly expect him to kiss you. But he doesn’t. “You’re not exactly the type of girl I usually fuck with.”

Not his type of girl, huh?

Rude.

“Why not?” you ask. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs his shoulders.

You see your reflection in his glasses — so far, you seem composed. Though less when he says, “You like leaving people and things broken. You get bored fast.”

Ouch. You wish he was lying.

It’s not like you do it on purpose. People catch feelings fast — you don’t. You make your intentions clear; the times things broke weren’t because you intended them to.

But…

You’re surprised he knows about this at all. You know Jungkook isn’t one to do feelings either; Yoongi told you. Perhaps he’s divulged your philosophies, too.

“So do you,” you answer.

“You got bored of Yoongi really fucking fast, too.”

“Not true. I’m still here.”

“You are now. You haven’t been for quite a while, right?”

You silence. What the hell does he mean?

Bewildered, you stare at him; if he wasn’t surrounded by this odd mystery, you’d push him away again. But he wants to rile you up, and you know you can take a lot more than that.

When you don’t answer, he pulls away, tugging back one or two escaped hair strands. Your eyes follow as he secures them behind his left ear, adorned by two earrings.

But when he raises an eyebrow in question, you awaken again, assuring him that, “You don’t have to. Yoongi and I can just do our thing and you… I don’t know. Have a good night, I suppose.”

You nod once and then push your body off the wall, glad you’re not sandwiched between it and Jungkook anymore. But before you can escape into your friend’s bedroom, a strong hand pulls you back.

You gasp, not anticipating the bold grip, flashing a glare to the veins on the back of his hand as you ask, “What? Didn’t mock me enough or—”

“You won’t ask again?” he has the audacity to inquire.

“You can’t be serious,” you scold, eyes wide. You can’t get out of his hold, so you don’t try just yet. “I’m gonna go. He’s already lighting candles or whatever.”

Jungkook chuckles. “As if. He doesn’t do that shit.”

“True,” you admit, “well, but he is waiting for me. Was waiting for you, too.”

“For me, huh?”

His grin is dorky. The following pout even more so. Horny moods make him cocky, but you remember from every other time you saw him at their dorm how freaking annoying he was.

A likeable annoying, you must admit. Capable of sweet smiles and funny jokes and absolute dumbass behaviour.

Like now.

“Awwh. Man, I saw him just this morning,” he says, loosening his grip around your wrist, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I understand if you missed me, but he really didn’t have to.”

You grimace. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah. Just so you know, when you call someone an idiot, you—”

“Alright. I’m leaving.”

Which you do. With absolute confidence.

Throwing your hair back and moving your hips. But what you also do is look back once you’ve taken a couple steps, nodding into the general direction of the bedroom.

Granting him a boost of confidence as you give into his wishes and ask again.

“Are you coming or?”

“Uhm—”

“Isn’t that why you wouldn’t let me go?” If he rejects you now, you’ll walk away. End of story. “Or why you’re looking at me like that.”

He doesn’t answer. Caught red-handed.

He seems to contemplate it. Is eyeing you carefully, amused beyond imagination. What a delightful expression.

One last time, he thinks aloud and says, “You’re acting badass now, but that will backfire. And you will burn yourself.”

“So what? Fire’s fun.”

“I’m just saying.” One more. “Tonight might be a little too much for you with the two of us, you know? I’m not as easy to handle as you think. ”

“I don’t think you are,” you confess. “But I don’t want to handle you. I want the opposite.”

No matter how tired you are, you will see this thing through. With or without him, you will take what Yoongi gives. Accept if Jungkook offers anything. And you think… you think he will.

There’s a glimmer in his eyes. A hint of desire, hunger growing in the predator’s big gaze. If he wants to reject you now, you’ll walk away.

But you don’t think he will.

And once more, courageous, you say, “Handle me, Jeon Jungkook.”

okayyy. this is one glimpse of the whole sin lol. yoongi is gonna have a way bigger role, this is just a jk centric scene!! they're both prominent a lot in every other scene and they're both menaces :')

please look forward to it!! it's gonna be a fun lil piece before we go back to our lil angst/fluff corner. and support by leaving a like, reblog and comment! anddd send me your thoughts, your enthusiasm is extremely encouraging!!

if you want to be on the taglist, here you go!! love you all <3

#yoongi smut #jungkook smut #yoongi fluff #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #jeongguk smut #jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #bts x you #jungkook fic #yoongi fic #jungkook #yoongi #thebtswritersclub

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sincerestlove · 2 months

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Anxious - R.G.

hello again! hope you enjoy this short one. and thank you for the request!

Request: Helloo can I request one where like Regina keeps asking reader to come to a party but reader doesn’t want to, but like Regina is forcing too much so reader comes to the party and like have a sort of panic attack because of the noises and crowds and Regina comfort reader etc? Thanks!!

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warnings: Anxiety and mental health struggles - please read at your own discretion. anxious reader, comforting and supportive regina

"Gina, please don't make me go."

The blonde rolled her eyes at you, putting the final touches on her makeup, lips puckered as she stared intently in the mirror.

You had been fidgeting on Regina's bed, feeling anxiety bubble in the pit of your stomach at the thought of attending tonight's party. Karen invited half of the student body to her house tonight to celebrate her birthday, which meant it would be crowded. You hated large crowds.

"Y/N, it'll be fine. I'll literally be with you the entire time, I promise." The blonde capped her lipstick, turning around to walk over to you, hands coming to rest on your shoulders. Her bright eyes softened as she met your gaze, rubbing circles into your shirt soothingly. She could always tell when your anxiety spiked. "Listen, if things get too overwhelming, we can leave, okay? Just take a deep breath."

You nodded, taking hold of her hand and squeezing to bring your heart rate down.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

You were wrong.

It was horrible.

As soon as you pulled up to the house, you could feel the bass booming, speakers blaring, filling every corner of the house. You held onto Regina's hand for dear life as she led you through the house, looking for your friends.

Gretchen and Karen were talking animatedly in the kitchen, sipping on bright red solo cups filled with god knows what alcoholic concoction. Your nose turned up at the smell of sweat and cheap liquor that hit your senses.

The two girls greeted you and Regina, pulling you into a hug. You smiled nervously back at them, an uncomfortable chill running up your spine.

"Here, Y/N!" Karen stuffed a cup into your hand, encouraging you to take a sip. You obliged, cringing at the burn in your throat. Regina smiled at you knowingly, taking the cup from your hand and replacing it with orange juice.

You mouthed a quick thank you, taking a generous gulp. The three girls fell into conversation as you stood close by the blonde, curling into her side. You did your best to drown out the music - but it was so loud you literally couldn't even hear yourself think.

You felt the familiar claws of anxiety digging into your skin, little beads of sweat forming on your forehead.

There were so many people crowding the house, it felt like oxygen was being sucked out of your lungs, making it harder to breathe.

"Gina, I-I'm going to the bathroom." You mumbled and pulled away without waiting for a response, fumbling your way toward the bathroom. Luckily, you had been to Karen's enough time to know where it was. You locked yourself inside, taking a deep, ragged breath in, feeling the burn of your lungs. Every breath you took felt like it wasn't enough.

Your hands began to sweat and your skin flushed, suddenly feeling too hot in your thin blouse. With shaky hands, you shut off the lights, sat on the toilet seat and caged your head between your legs, praying for the noise to stop.

You weren't sure how much time had passed before fists were banging on the door, jiggling the door handle. "Y/N? Are you in there?" Regina's voice flooded the room. "Let me in, please."

You were barely able to get up and unlock the door, falling back on your butt onto the floor. Regina barged in, closing and locking the door again behind her. She decided to keep the lights off, kneeling beside your cowering, shaking frame. "Hey, I'm here, baby. It's okay, I'm here." She took you into her embrace, holding on to you tightly.

"It's too loud, Gina." You spoke quietly, hands covering your ears. Regina nodded, helping you to stand up.

"Okay, Y/N, it's okay. I'm sorry, baby. Let's go home. Come on, let's go." She whispered to you encouragingly as she led the pair of you out the front door and into her Jeep.

Regina held your hand the whole drive back to her house, ushering you inside quickly and into her bed. She helped you change into a pair of loose sweatpants and a t-shirt, wiping your makeup off before tucking you into her bed.

The rest of the night was filled with apologies and sweet words from Regina, your favorite snacks (that she kept in her bedside drawer just for you), a Netflix movie and soft kisses, until the two of you fell asleep wrapped in each other's embrace.

hope you enjoyed!

as always, please leave requests if you have any! :)

#regina george #regina george x reader

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candyhartes · 4 months

Text

sweet nothing

s: you & sanji share an intimate moment after skypiea

cw: none; fluff

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

the tiny bathroom was designed to hold no more than more person yet sanji sat on the sink counter using it as his personal ash tray with you standing directly between his legs where he comfortably rests his thighs against your hips, one hand lazily gripping your waist. a slightly battered cigarette laying between his chapped and scabbed lips, using his free hand to occasionally hold his cigarette.

the sound of the strong waves crashing against the going merry, the creaking caused by the wood shifting against each other and the buzzing from the small lamp above sanji’s head is heard inside the quiet room. nami had stated that the strong winds and rain were nothing to be alarmed of, however even in the grand line nothing was for certain so she volunteered for first watch in case things got too unsettling.

sanji’s shirt thrown across the closed toilet seat with his chest exposed fully covered in bandages as you begin to carefully remove them. your fingers delicately sliding across his back and careful not to disturb the burns that litter his skin. anytime you accidentally graze them sanji tenses and uses it as an opportunity to take a hit from his cigarette, masking his pain through sharp inhales as a way to distract you from his pain he’d hate to see his lover worry over his own mistakes.

the balm chopper made is to be applied twice a day so the burns won’t scar and relieve him of any lingering pain. you scoop some in your hand, glancing up at sanji with an apologetic expression, “i’m sorry, this might sting a little.”

“it’s nothing i can’t handle,” he smiles softly giving your waist a squeeze of reassurance. the second your hand meets his chest he’s quick to bring the cigarette back to his lips inhaling sharply. you look back at him feeling incredibly useless but he’s looking away from you, his eyes flickering from the door to the wall before he exhales the smoke above your head so you aren’t breathing it in.

you return your gaze to his chest finding choppers balm amazing as it’s been slowly causing his burns to disappear. you smile to yourself before remembering just exactly how he got in this situation. eneru mercilessly striking both usopp and sanji more than once rendering them almost completely useless, and once again striking sanji with full force after saving nami from his ship.

your movements had unconsciously slowed which peaked sanji’s interest, your eyes matched the storms of outside; dark and brewing. your soft features that he absolutely adored turned sharp and frightening yet even your anger had a hinge of sadness as your lips downturned into a pout, quivering slightly at whatever thoughts your mind is forming.

before he could ask what’s wrong, you’re already turning to look up at him his heart dropping at what he recognized as anger turning out to be grief, the familiar shine in your eyes as you attempt to blink away the tears that you’re so frantically keeping back. he’s quick to throw out his cigarette and placing both of his hands on your cheeks with concern, his thumbs running soothing circles to calm you down. “hey, what’s wrong sweet girl?”

“i’m sorry!” through your choked sobs, quivering lip, and the horrible lump in your throat you’re finally able to speak up. you want nothing more than lean into his chest and apologize over and over again for being nowhere near him during his fight with eneru. if only you hadn’t run along with robin, you could’ve helped sanji and usopp. you were far from the strongest but you’re still able to hold your own. you push yourself back but sanji’s stubborn grip prevents you from slipping away from him, instead he’s wiping your tears away and stroking your hair. “i should’ve been there. i could’ve helped you.”

“hey-“ he pulls you back so you’re looking at him, his eyes are hard and disappointed not at you rather himself for letting someone as beautiful as yourself to worry over someone like him. he gives you a soft smile, “you did everything and more with robin. stop worrying your pretty little head over meat heads like us.”

“but-“

“and who knows, maybe i got hurt so i can keep you all to myself,” sanji hums, his hand slowly moving back down to you cheek. his cold fingers stroking your cheek lightly with a dazed expression; lovesick eyes as he flickers from your eyes to your lips. zoro would have laughed and insulted his dopey face with how ridiculous he looks but he didn’t care and neither did you. he leans in slightly, “who else would strip me naked to rub balm on me? i’m in heaven.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at his words, the atmosphere brightening almost instantly. his words of reassurance going straight to your heart. rather than playing into his tease, you lean into his hand planting a small kiss on his palm. “i’m sure chopper wouldn’t mind helping you but you really shouldn’t hurt yourself, who else would feed us?”

“blind and deaf with one or two arms, ill always make sure to give you everything you deserve,” sanji claims, his eyes turning into hearts at your actions, ignoring the mention of chopper rubbing the balm on him. the sound of your soft laughter and his attempts of stealing kisses from you ring throughout the hallway of the going merry, replacing what was once quiet.

note. truth be told, i’ve been avoiding my homework by writing which explains two post in less than a week. i should probably focus on school … also i really love skypiea and couldn’t help myself. p.p.s taylor’s sweet nothing really set the mood for this which is why it’s so short.

#juliewrites #one piece drabble #one piece imagine #one piece #one piece x reader #vinsmoke sanji #one piece sanji #sanji x reader #sanji imagine #sanji drabble #sanji fluff #sanji fanfic

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dearshelby · 5 months

Note

Ahh Lora!! I’m so happy to see that your requests are open again!! 😄

If in bot to late, may I request "Promise this'll stay between us.” with Tommy and reader? If his two spots are taken (which I love that you’ve decided that), you can choose who you feel this prompt fits best with!

Thanks so much in advance! 🧡

Hello, K! Thanks for sending in something! I wrote this instead of going to sleep so I hope it's not too bad hehe (also, can I just say I LOVE your new theme? It's so clean, truly loved it!!)

Had you first | T.S

Prompt 4. "Promise this'll stay between us.” + Tommy Shelby. Contains Tommy being an asshole and to avoid a weird age gap, Finn is a bit older than canon, the reader is older than him and younger than Tommy.

“When is this girl coming, Finn?” Polly asked, annoyed by the family meeting her nephew suddenly demanded.

“Is this girl actually coming?” Arthur asked.

“I don't have time for this-” Tommy quickly snapped, getting up from his seat.

“She'll be here in a minute! Please, Tom!” the youngest begged and Tommy sat back down.

In a table in the corner of the Garrison, the family waited to meet Finn's new girlfriend, the boy was proud and anxious to introduce her to them, not so secretly yearning for some approval.

“Schedule a better time then-” Polly's ask was interrupted by the doors opening.

A girl walked in wearing a beautiful coat, her confident walk and polite smile made the Shelbys wonder how he managed to win her heart, she was clearly too good.

The boy stood up, greeting her with a chaste kiss, “Pol, Arthur, Tommy, this is her!”

Her smiled immediately faded as her eyes met Tommy's, but she recomposed herself, “It's so nice to finally meet, Finn told me a lot about you,”

“Yeah, he told us a lot about you too,” Arthur said, “never fucking shut up about you,”

“Arthur!” Pol scolded, “I'm sorry, dear, sit down, we were excited to meet you,”

“Why don't you go get the girl some gin, eh? Leave her to us,” Arthur told Finn, who quickly went behind the bar.

She sat, weakly smiling and trying to make the situation more comfortable, “Am I getting interviewed?”

“Well, we're trusting you with our youngest,” Polly smiled.

“How long you've been together?” Tommy finally spoke.

“Hm- four months,”

Finn came back to the table with drinks and the conversation carried on, the girl avoided eye contact with Tom and he went quiet again.

Surprisingly, they liked her, much like Linda and Lizzie, she seemed able to handle a Shelby man. Polly and Arthur didn't know it, but she had experience in this matter.

Half-hour went by and Tommy sighed, discreetly getting her attention and nodding out, as if he said follow me.

“I'll go for a smoke,” he announced and went outside.

After a few minutes, she finished her drink and excused herself, “I need to use the toilet,”

Using the backdoor to go outside, she walked around the pub and found him waiting by the entry.

“Tom?” she hesitantly called.

“I remember the best sex we ever had was on the private room,”

“Stop it,” she scolded.

“And when we were done you said you adored me,”

“Yeah, I couldn't say I loved you because I knew you wouldn't say it back,” she bitterly remembered.

“No, I wouldn't,” he agreed and pointed inside, where Finn was, “but that's low,”

“I didn't know, alright? I swear, the first time happened so fast, I didn't ask his surname and when I found out I-” she gulped, “I thought you wouldn't recognize me, thought you wouldn't even remember me,”

“Well,” he threw his cigarette away, “I do,”

Tommy got close to her, his hands threatening to touch her waist before moving to her face, caressing her cheek with gentleness that used to be reserved only for her.

“I remember everything,” he whispered.

Their lips got dangerously close, but she stepped backwards before he could make a move, “Is this a test?”

“What?”

“Are you testing if I'll be loyal to Finn? I will, I love him,” she spat out.

“No test,” he explained, getting close again, “just memories,”

“It's not enough,”

“Is it not?” he tested the waters, cupping her jaw and tracing her lips.

“Tommy,” she sighed, trying to resist him, “what about Finn?”

“What about him?”

“He's your-”

“I had you first,” he interrupted.

“And now? Do you have someone?” she touched their foreheads together.

It was his time to gulp, of course he did, not only Lizzie at home, but Greta and Grace at the back of his head. The problem was, Tommy hardly let go of people who were once his and when she walked into the Garrison, he could barely believe the young thing that helped him to forget the horrors of war in the last months of 1918 was back into his life.

“Everything,” he answered, “I have everything,”

“What do you-” her question was interrupted by his lips on hers.

Soft and tender, warm and entrancing, exactly like they remembered each other. She cupped Tommy's cheeks and swore there was the ghost of a smile on his face.

There truly was, he remembered every single detail of what her kisses felt like and it hadn't changed at all, it was like going through abstinence, something he spent too long without and now felt better than before.

Once they needed to breathe, she looked down at her own feet, ashamed. Tommy tried to touch their foreheads again, she didn't let him.

“Tom, I think we shouldn't-” she negatively nodded, “we should stay away from each other,”

“We did, for far too long,”

“Yeah, and everything changed,” she said, “we changed, Finn doesn't deserve it, there's no benefit for anyone so please, promise this'll stay between us,”

“...go back inside,” Tommy ordered, sensing words wouldn't be able to convince her at that moment, “we'll talk about it later, in a better, private place,”

“No, we won't meet again,” she stood her ground.

“No? If it depends on Finn you'll be Shelby soon,”

She went quiet and turned on her heel, ready to go back inside, before she was gone from his view, Tommy added, “And if it depends on me too.”

#tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic

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running-with-kn1ves · 1 year

Note

Got me awe struck how you write so well kinda wish i had that skill too! Anyway, how about boyfriend praising reader(who felt insecure) starting from sweet then getting creepier. Like something in the lines of "praising their kindness, so lucky to have them" to "he knows , he will kill for them."

A/N: A/N: sacrificed my soul for this one and it didn't turn out as slayful as I wanted.. Anyway, I hope this is what you were thinking anon :D sorry for any mistakes and thank you!

Synopsis: Your boyfriend's compliment goes a little too far when he tries to cheer you up.

T/W: Mildly graphic threats of violence, forced kissing, manipulation, insecure reader, yandere themes/behaviors

WC:3000

You found yourself in a bathroom stall for the fifth time in one evening, sitting on the toilet with your head in your hands. You just wanted it all to go away: the people, the drinks, the music that boomed in your ears. You had already stained your sequined clothes with spilt champagne earlier that night, the stickiness of it on your chest beginning to mix with the thick sweat crawling down your neck. It was too damn hot in here, the buzz of the bathroom fan making you claw at your updone hair.

The mass amounts of club goers here were far more accustomed to this lifestyle than you. Which was intimidating, to say the least. They all looked so perfectly dolled up-- not a smudge of makeup out of place, delicious scents of colognes and perfumes mixing together. Not to mention, they could hold their alcohol far better than you could.

One bitter cocktail and you were already hazy-eyed, your face warm and balance a little loopy. You were by no means drunk, but the contents of your drink had certainly offered a level of instability to your emotions and movements.

The image of men in their chic dress shirts that showed hours of gym time and girls in their tight party dresses made you want to curl up in the corner and marinate in self-pity. It was hard not to compare yourself, not when you spent hours searching for the right clothes that would fit with your boyfriend’s stylish accents, constantly perfecting your concealer to hide the dark bags beneath your eyes.

And yet, even with your hard work, you still felt out of place, still felt the pinch of hundreds of passing stares and biting grins of condescension as you stood next to your overly charismatic significant other.

Through your pounding headache and shaky breaths, You could hear the winding creak of the bathroom door being pushed open.

Narrow-footed shoes echoed on the white tile floor, slowly passing each bathroom stall and sink basin.

“Sweetheart?” A voice questioned. “You in here?”

You stayed silent, covering your mouth and lifting your feet from the floor. You didn’t want him to know you had spent the past 20 minutes in here wiping away stinging tears from your eyes, shoving paper towels down the front of your dazzling shirt to soak up champagne. You smelled like alcohol and whatever cleaner they used to permeate the bathroom with, and it certainly wouldn’t be a sight that you wanted your boyfriend to see.

However, despite your attempts to make yourself disappear, you saw his clubbing shoes patiently make their way to the front of your stall. You looked within the separating crack of the door and the wall, seeing a blur of black clothes and sun-kissed skin. Your eyes focused and without warning you made eye contact with him, his face showing a worried, yet sly grin. He was waiting-- peering in on you sitting there in ruin.

You jolted in surprise, your foot slipping from the toilet seat as you looked away. You hoped if you moved fast enough, that maybe he would think you were someone else.

“C’mon, let me in.” He pressed against the door, trying to open it from the outside.

Well, seemed like tricking him didn’t work.

“Don’t come in here Ezra! I--” You weren’t sure how to convince him to go away. “I don’t want you to see me.”

He went quiet, keeping his hand atop the door handle and watching the door.

“Why not?”

Panic rose in your chest again, forcing you to try to come up with a way to get him to leave you alone, atleast long enough to make yourself look presentable.

“I-... I just--”

“C’mon, I promise I won’t make fun of you or anything, just open the door,” He raddled the handle, pressing his face against the crack of the door.

“Don’t!” You shout, trying to cover the crack with your hands.

Your boyfriend let out a low grunt, annoyed at your stubbornness.

He tried rattling the door once more, pulling hard enough to make the hinges creak. You feared that if he pulled any harder, he might rip the entire door off.

“You’ve been in there for almost a half hour,” Ezra impatiently replied, putting his hand on the top of the stall door. “If you don’t open up, I’m going to force my way in there.”

He began to pull, jerking the door hard enough that the other stalls began to clatter.

“No-- wait okay okay okay!” You panicked, trying to pry his hand away from the top of the door.

Instantaneously he grabbed your wrist, pulling it upward to get a good handle on you. His fingers were warm, as if he had his hands clenched for a long period of time.

“I’m not letting go until you do.” He said coldly, squeezing your hand. He was serious, holding your wrist securely enough to show he meant business: he’d stand there all night if that's what it took. Your several disappearances had worried him enough.

His thumb moved up to caress the dip in your palm, turning your hand to face outwards. Ezra’s face was still pressed up against the door crack, looking to provoke you further out.

Stomping your foot, you wracked your brain for something-- anything, to deter him away. But the lingering threat of his hand left your mind to draw a blank.

“....Fine.” You mutter, pulling the paper towels out of your chest. You try to wipe away any leftover tears, but you know it does little to lessen the redness of your eyes.

With a shaky breath, you ask him to stand back, and slowly unlock the door. Purposely taking as long as possible, you keep your feet moving at an inchworm's pace, hardly stepping away from the stall.

Your boyfriend tears open the stall door now that its unlocked, not yet releasing your arm.

You see his figure in front of you but refuse to look up, instead turning away and allowing him to drag you out of the small confines of the stall. He pulls you to the large sink basins, reaching for your chin. You flinch a little as he turns your head, looking at your tear stricken face. You felt like a mess, but he didn’t seem to change expression as you stared back.

“Now, what’s been the matter sweetheart?”

You feel the cold of his rings against your balmy cheeks, his thumb running over your wet eyelashes to brush away unfallen tears.

“I just don’t feel good…” You say, relishing in the affection, even though it makes your stomach churn.

“What doesn't feel good?” He asks, letting go to inspect the rest of you.

You relax against the low counter, feeling it hit your tailbone.

“Did someone hurt you?” He searches your body for marks. “Are you feeling sick? Had too much to drink, baby?”

You shake your head, suddenly feeling like a child answering to their mother.

“You’re going to have to tell me what it is, then. I can’t read your mind.” He lightly scolds.

There’s a gentleness in the deep vibrato of his voice as he bares the blunt words, looking at you with an expectant gaze.

You fidget a tad, beginning to pace in a small two-step dance.

“I just--” You turn away, fidgeting with your fingers. “I feel, ridiculous.”

You move to grasp your forehead, avoiding your boyfriends gaze.

“Dressed up in this stupid get up, surrounded by these people who-- who I don’t belong next to, who make me look like a fool for being here…!”

You fold your arms over your chest defensively, turning away from the man.

“Did you see the way everyone was looking at me? I looked so stupid, standing next to you! Or even next to them, as if I could convince them that I belong here, next to someone of their own.” You turned to stare at your reflection in the mirror, not recognizing the person who stared back. “I just.. I don’t belong here, with you… with these people… I feel absurd for even trying.”

You hear your voice shake at the last few words, not realizing you were getting worked up enough to cry. But then there it was, that burning in your nose and the blurriness of tears in your eyes. You felt your face scrunch and tense up, the ugliness of your cries breaking out to make you feel even smaller.

Putting a hand to your mouth and turning away from the mirror, you hoped your boyfriend hadn’t seen or heard the way you appeared ready to sob.

But a heavy, commanding hand pulled your shoulder back, turning you around with ease as you let your body fall to whatever whims he desired.

Your nose was shoved against Ezra’s chest as he pushed your head against him, wrapping his arms around you. He stroked your hair, pushing it off your sweaty skin. It was almost suffocating, the way he trapped you against him. But it made you feel secure, knowing that he couldn’t see your face full of tears and shame, that you didn’t have to continue to spill your heart out to him.

“Baby….” He said. It was in such a soft, understanding tone that you didn’t think it came from his lips at first. “How could you ever, ever, compare yourself to these… strangers?”

You sniffled against his dress shirt, hiding yourself in his chest and expensive cologne, a scent so familiar and potent that it put your body at ease.

“I mean, you? Versus them? These half drunken idiots who can barely hold themselves up?” Your boyfriend chuckled, shaking slightly against you. “Darling why would you ever want to be like them?”

You wiped your eyes, trying to keep your emotions at bay.

“I thought thats what… you wanted. How else am I supposed show up when I meet your friends.” You mumbled.

Your boyfriend pulls your chin, lifting you to face him.

“I brought you here to meet everyone because I wanted them to meet you, not whatever persona the rest of the assholes here portray.”

You looked away, letting his words sink in.

“Besides, they were only looking at you because you were the most captivating thing in that room,” He ran his pointer finger over your bottom lip, the cold of his rings hitting the bitten skin.

“The most,” He cut himself off with a kiss to your neck. “Stunning,” kiss, ” “kind,” another kiss, “and amazing thing in that room. They were just how awestruck I was when I first saw you.”

He softened as he saw you squeeze your lips shut, preventing a smile from escaping.

“Though I won’t let them make the same moves on you like I did.” He joked, laughing as he saw you roll your eyes.

Brushing his thumb on your cheek, Ezra took away the remnants of tears. A pit of shame grew in your stomach when you saw him frown at your saddened state.

“But listen,” He bent closer to your face, shifting his warm hands to cup your cheeks. “You’re the best thing to happen to me, hands down. And I wouldn’t trade any of the bastards in here for you, so enough self-loathing.”

Your cheeks squish as he pressed his palms against them, forcing your head to nod as you went limp.

“Good.” He smiled, grinning at how you seemed to wait for his next response.

You let him let go, even though you wanted to stay in that position of safety for longer.

He ruffled your hair back in place, fixing the few scraggled strands that he could. Ezra talked while fetching a paper towel to clean the goo beneath your eyes, originally from your tears.

“I mean, honestly, do you think I wouldn’t kill the bastards in here if they tried to look at you wrong? Come on, no way I would let that slide.”

You smiled at hearing that, thinking he was just being dramatic.

Paper towel in hand, Ezra lifted you up from the ground slightly. He put you down on the sink counter, keeping his hands planted to the sides of your abdomen.

Letting out a low laugh, he continues to wipe away at your eyes. His demeanor shifted to be quieter; something you aren't used to from your blab of a boyfriend.

Dark hair covers to his eyelids, sticking to his skin as the heat from the bathroom has begun to her to him.

The humming of the bathroom fan is all that fills the room for a few moments, Ezra’s concentration on your eyes leaving you both quiet. Though, you could tell he still had something he wanted to say.

"I mean, you don't understand how many times I've had the urge to mutilate the men in this club for staring at you, just from tonight alone" he licked his lips, curling his unmoving hand beside you. He seemed to be… nervous. "I'd pull their teeth out first, working my way down. Tearing each fingernail off one by one, pulling the veins from their wrists… I'd remove anything they have to witness you with."

He looked back up at you, staring within your eyes as if he was lost in them, as if he was looking inside of you. Despite his tender look that seemed to crave your cooperation, that should have made you blush– your smile fell. The warmth once spreading in your chest was now going cold, sinking to your stomach.

"You captivated the whole room, and I can't stand it…" he didn't seem to notice your fallen expression, or the shaking in your hands on the counter. "I hate the way they can hear your laugh, sit beside you and feel your warmth… how you can smile at them and let them make you feel as if you aren't the best thing to ever walk into this club. I hate it so fucking much."

Your boyfriend trailed his finger down the sequins on your clothes, trying to hold himself back from getting too close.

You shifted uncomfortably as your he leaned up close to your mouth, just far away enough to where he couldn't indulge in how badly he wanted to kiss you. There was this suffocating desire inside his chest to paint his claim violently upon your body in this bathroom right now, to let you walk put of this club with everyone staring at the little pieces of him only, forcing them all to know who you really belong to.

You didn't know what to say to his confession…. Should you thank him? Run away? Beg him to go to therapy?

Instead you stayed quiet, searching for the right words to not tick him off, now that you knew what he was potentially…. Capable of.

"They want to hurt you, to use you and then throw you away like some brainless sex doll. They only have bad intentions, baby."

Your boyfriend slid down to your knees, crouching down as you sat on the counter above him. He pulled your left leg toward him gently, kissing up from your ankle, to your shin, to your knee.

"But i'll take care of you, I won't let you be tricked.."He looks up at you with fluttering lashes, raising your leg ever so slightly to press his lips against your inner thigh.

"You know how much I adore you… right?"

Your skimpy clothes gave him even more access than you felt comfortable with, seeing the adoration pulsate within his eyes and the desperation in his hands.

"Of course," you reply, hesitantly bringing a hand up to his cheek, hoping he wasn't thinking of murdering you too in this bathroom.

His warm, damp hands molded the flesh of your bare thighs in his fingers, pushing in between the tight layer of where your tiny shorts and your skin meet, trying to dig beneath them. He wanted to hold all of you, to keep you in his arms so you couldn't even think of leaving, of running to someone else.

"You know that I'd never hurt you… that I only want what's best for you… that I'd kill for you--…" he mumbles the last bit, pressing your hand deeper against his cheek as he looks up from below at you, giving a cheeky grin.

You nod your head, hoping his homicidal thoughts were just that-- thoughts.

He was quick to fool you again with that sweet, lovely smile that seemed to bask in your presence, the smile that made you feel like the most desirable person in the world. No matter how many threats he gave out they never seemed to deter the fact that his soft, adoring expression made you feel like he'd choose you in a room full of thousands.

Your small assurance gave him the confidence to press his head further between your legs, running kisses back up from your knee to your thigh.

He trailed up your skin, kisses growing hungry. Pulling your sequined shorts, your boyfriend buried his head between your thighs– trying to get where he knows he'll have full control over you.

"Not here," you said breathlessly and bewildered, trying to push away his head. "We can't do that here–!"

His hair was soft, even with the thin spread of gel that kept it in place as you ran your hands down to his neck. Tugging at tufts of his hair and using your legs to push him away, you found little to nothing dispirited him.

"Just let me show how much I love you..."

Each time you tried to use your knee to push him, Ezra pushed it against the sink countertop with the heavy weight of his hand. He looked up at you with a sick grin that meant: “just try and beat me.” A part of you felt panicked, not just from the compromising position-- but from how insistent he was. Like he was trying to prove something to you.

It wasn't until the echo of the bathroom door swinging open and hitting the wall, did he lift his head. His eyes went wide, jaw clenching as he whipped around to look. The fearful expression would've been funny if you weren't just as scared.

You quickly jumped off the counter and pulled your shorts back into position, watching to see someone peak around from the corner. But the sounds of drunken laughter faded away, and no one made themselves apparent.

You and Ezra sighed simultaneously, the heat from the stuffy bathroom showing to have been too much for the both of you.

He reached for your hand, pulling you towards him. Ezra goes quiet, and you keep your gaze to the ground. He had shown sides of himself tonight that you weren’t exactly sure how to process.

“Lets just go home, okay?” Ezra says after a few moments, whispering with a grin.“I wanna finish what we started.”

What were you to say? You stuttered, thinking to protest, to run away or maybe even admit how afraid you were.

But with a kiss to your sweaty forehead, your boyfriend slung his arm over your shoulder and began leading you to the exit of the bathroom.

Your feet had moved on your own, your mouth still lingering to form words. As Ezra opened the door, the stench of alcohol and cheap perfume hit you once again.

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cameronspecial · 2 months

Text

Let Me In, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Having a Stomach Ache and Being on The Toilet

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Summary: Y/N isn't feeling well and Rafe can't accept that she doesn't want him in the room.

Masterlist

Whatever Y/N ate has been wreaking havoc on her stomach. She came back home from shopping with Daisy and she had to make a mad dash to the bathroom. That was half an hour ago. She has been on and off the toilet the whole time and this is now her fourth go. Her posture is horrendous as she hunches over with her hand on her stomach. It is the only position that gives some sort of relief from the stabbing pain. It’s been a few minutes since anything has come out, but she is worried if she gets off the seat, it will start back up again. Tears start to well in Y/N’s eyes because she has never felt this type of ache before. Her period cramps are bad, yet manageable with ibuprofen. Something tells her the medicine isn’t going to help her at the moment.

Rafe pushes the unlocked door open with ease, even with his hands full. He flicks his head in greeting Dylan, who is watching TV. “Is Angel back from the mall yet?” he asks his frat brother. Dylan nods, “Yeah. Although, she’s been really quiet and holed up in your room the whole time. She hasn’t come down to get a snack or anything like she normally does.” “Perfect. I got her a chocolate chip muffin on my way home from class. Thanks for telling me. I’ll go check on her,” he states, heading upstairs to his room.

Y/N can hear the keypad of the door from inside the bathroom and squeezes her eyes shut. She leans over to lock the bathroom door. Rafe will insist on coming in when he finds out she is in there because they are the type of couple, who is comfortable with doing that; however, the smell she has created in the room is not one she wants to subject Rafe to. His knock reverberates around the room before she can hear the wiggle of the doorknob. “Angel, the door is locked. Can you open it so I can come in please?” Rafe calls out from the other side. She grimaces as another pang shoots through her abdomen, “I’m on the toilet, so no.” “Come on, Angel. It’s nothing I’ve never seen before. I want to tell you about my day,” he points out.

“Well, I want my privacy. So… no, you can’t come in.”

Usually, he would respect her wishes, except that he can hear the strain in her voice, which concerns him. Either she is hiding something or sh,” he orders, trying the door handle again. Y/Ne is hurt and he likes neither of those options. “Let me in, Angel sighs, “I can’t because.” “Why not?” he inquires. She rubs her stomach to soothe herself, “I’m scared if I open this door, you won’t love me anymore.”

“And why would you think that? Nothing you do could make that happen, Angel.”

“It’s just… My tummy is hurting a lot and the smell in the room right now is not very pleasant. I don’t want to subject you to that, so maybe wait until I’m done to tell me about your day. I really do want to hear about it, I promise.”

“Angel, if you are feeling sick, then I should be in there comforting you. I promise that whatever it is like in there will not make me stop loving you. Nothing could do that.”

“You promise?”

“Yes. Now, can you let me in please?”

Y/N exhales in relief and unlocks the door. He pushes the handle down, entering without a second thought. Embarrassment runs through her when she notices the small scrunch on his face. He is quick to wipe any emotion from his facial features as he rushes to her side. He squats near the toilet and takes her hand into his. “You don’t have to stay. I know this isn’t the most pleasant environment,” she whispers, wanting to die a little bit inside from the humiliation. He runs his thumb over her knuckles, “It’s not that bad. I live in a frat. I have smelt and seen worse. Don’t worry about it. You are in pain and you need me, so I’m going to be right here for as long as you need.” Globs of water stream down her face. “Thank you. I really don’t deserve you,” she mumbles, resting her forehead against his. Rafe kisses her hairline, “This is the least you deserve, Angel. And I’m going to make sure you are treated like a queen.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

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ddejavvu · 9 months

Note

mei! can you write a little hangman trying to corral and take care of his drunk gf?? im a lil tipsy rn and thinking abt it

tw for mentions of getting sick

"Bradshaw," Jake taps his fellow aviator on the shoulder, two beers in hand, "Where's my girlfriend?"

"Phoenix took her to the bathroom," Bradley informs Jake, "She was feeling a little queasy, I think."

"Shit," Jake groans, shoving both beers into Bob's unsuspecting hands. The WSO blinks bewilderedly, but passes the drinks to Fanboy and Payback when they invite him over to the dartboard.

Jake shoulders his way through the crowd, beelining for the women's restroom and slapping a hand over his eyes before pushing the door open.

"I'm not trying to see anything," He calls out, standing in the doorway, "I just want to know if my girlfriend is in here."

He hears a distressed groan from you to his left, and Phoenix calls out, "It's just us, Hangman. You can come in and open your eyes."

He does as instructed, finding you crouched on the floor inside the third stall. Phoenix is behind you, your hair gathered back into her hands as you hover expectantly over the toilet.

"Nothing yet," Phoenix fills your boyfriend in, "I think it's less about the booze and more about the bottomless fries."

"Gotcha," Jake nudges her away to take her place, swooping your hair up again when it falls over your face, "You've been snackin, huh baby?"

"I didn't eat that many," You swear, but Jake knows practically any amount of the bar's greasy french fries can be vomit-inducing, "I want- I need water."

"I got it," Phoenix heads for the door, "Don't let her eat any more, Hangman!"

Jake's confused until you reach for your purse and retract a napkin stuffed with fries.

"Hey- hey! No," He takes them before you can eat any of them, chucking the handful into the toilet to deter you, "Baby, what are you doing? Those made you sick."

"But they're so good," You lament, "Jake, they've got the garlic salt on 'em, and- and I want more!"

"But they're too greasy for you to handle right now," He smooths a hand down your back, "Baby, you can't eat those when you've been drinkin', that's why we're in here. You can have some on Friday night, m'kay? You can be DD."

"I'm not even sick anymore," You grumble, all of a sudden struggling to your feet. Jake backs out of the stall so that you can stand, but your drunk mind seems to envision a velcro patch covering Jake's chest, and you stick your own matching one to it to throw your arms around his neck.

"I want food," You inform Jake, and he leans in to kiss you despite your beer-breath, "I want something big, and- and greasy, and meaty, and-"

"How about pancakes?" Jake offers, ringing his hands around your waist in case you decide you're going to lean your full weight on him, "We can head to Denny's, it'll only be a five minute drive."

"Do they put garlic salt in their pancakes?" You wonder, gazing at Jake like he's a prophet. He's not, but he thinks he knows the answer anyway.

"Uh," He chuckles slightly, glancing at the door when Phoenix returns, a glass of water in her hands, "I don't think so, darlin'. Here, drink that," He pats your back, releasing his hold on you so that you can take the cup from Phoenix, "All of it, honey, then we'll head for Denny's. Okay?"

"Mhm," You nod around the rim of the glass, the sound echoing slightly as you gulp down the water.

"Takin' her for pancakes," Jake locks eyes with Phoenix, "I'm gonna go get her purse, can you supervise?"

"Hurry up," She nods towards the door, "Fanboy's a nosy drunk, I'm pretty sure he already rooted through her stuff and found a tampon."

"Christ almighty," Jake scoffs, storming out while you chug down the rest of the water in your glass. He does, in fact, find Fanboy seated by your purse, inspecting a plastic-wrapped tampon with bewildered eyes.

"It comes out of the plastic, dipshit," Jake demonstrates, popping the applicator off and stuffing it back on after they've gotten a good look, "Phoenix was right, you are nosy. You wanna inspect her lipstick, too?"

"Oh please, we see that all the time." Rooster drawls, yanking at Jake's collar and revealing a deep pink kiss mark against the base of his neck. The pilot grins beneath his mustache, collecting the coins from your wallet that Fanboy had counted to occupy himself and handing them off to Jake, "Just be lucky he didn't go through your wallet, Hangman, he would have found those nudes you keep in there."

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #hangman fanfiction #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x y/n #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader

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spinningwebsandtales · 1 year

Text

DMC5 Guys Accidentally Kissing Reader HCs

Requested by @danielle-marie

(A/N:) Thank you for the request! I love doing these headcanons for my readers. They’re really fun to write and are some of my most popular! Buckle in for some fluff everyone cause this is gonna be fun! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Dante X FemReader

Dante always teases you, acting like he’s going to kiss you.

You push him away thinking he’s mostly just joking, which he’s actually just trying to hide his actual feelings under his goofy persona.

So you actually never know what he is thinking or feeling cause he always hides everything under corny jokes or a grin.

Dante hides the fact well that the feelings he has for you runs deeper than even he can imagine.

Then the day came that day that he could no longer hide his feelings.

It had been a normal day when the job came in from Morrison. Dante wanted you to stay but you refused.

Dante knew it was going to be a difficult mission but you stayed in and handled it as you normally do.

His adrenaline was pumping at the end of the fight and he wasn’t thinking straight when he wrapped around your waist.

You gasped at the sudden touch before you were tugged into his side and Dante’s lips were on yours.

You stiffened looking at him with wide eyes before Dante regained his bearings.

He released you quickly as you stumbled backwards.

He sheepishly looked down, not knowing how to explain that it had been an accident when you said his name.

He looked up, surprised to see you so close.

“Is that how you feel?”

“Yeah.”

You kissed him gently back.

Vergil X FemReader

Vergil always seems to keep you at arms length so you honestly can’t tell if he likes you or just tolerates you.

Every time you get a little too close he puts distance between you both.

It hurts your feelings but you keep the hurt hidden as it would just push him away more.

He throws himself headfirst into whatever he’s doing, especially when it comes to battle.

Demons have no chance when Vergil is before them with Yamato.

You are rarely able to help when it comes to battles.

One day that changed when the hoard you and him came across was proving too much for even Vergil.

He’s too busy trying to keep himself alive that he has no time to check on you.

When he dispatches the last one he turns to find you, only to see you gone.

Despite his cool attitude towards you he cares deeply. So deeply it scares him.

He just doesn’t know how to express himself very well and it comes off as distant and harsh.

But when he finds you laying on the ground, surrounded by demon corpses and your body in a pool of blood. His blood freezes.

He rushes to your side knowing that he just lost one of the people he truly cares about.

Overwhelmed by his emotions and not used to feeling such things he kisses you as he’s scared he’s lost you.

You stir causing Vergil to stiffen and release you.

“Did you just kiss me?”

“I thought you were dead. It was an accident I didn’t know what to do.”

“Well at least that confirms that you don’t hate me.”

I could never hate you.”

Nero X FemReader

Nero and you have a very special relationship as you both like each other but have a hard time expressing how you both feel.

You both think so much alike you butt heads quite often which leads to arguments.

They aren’t arguments where you come to blows but just over stupid things.

Like if Nero leaves the toilet seat up or you left the milk out on the counter.

You both feel stupid afterwards and wind up making up a little later and becoming close once again.

But Nero has been noticing that his feelings for you are changing more and more each day.

He can’t imagine his life without you and it scares him that one of these arguments would have you storming out of his door and life forever.

Today was one of those times he was the most fearful as you were shouting at him with no end in sight.

He couldn’t remember the reason the argument started but here you were shouting and pointing your finger in his face.

He steps back trying to apologize but he can’t even get one word in as you are on a roll.

At a loss on what to do Nero sudden grabs you, pulling you in, and kissing you quickly.

Cutting off your argument you stand there speechless.

“Did you just kiss me?”

“Yeah. I didn’t know what to do and it just happened.”

“What were we arguing about?”

“I don’t remember.”

V X FemReader

V is a quiet man and more often than not he keeps his feelings to himself.

So you really don’t know what he’s thinking majority of the time and he’s good at keeping things hidden.

If his attention isn’t on you, it’s on his ever present book of poems.

You were beginning to think that he loved his book more than you.

It made you huffy if he didn’t pay attention to you in a certain amount of time but you didn’t voice your annoyance.

The reason V would retreat into his book is that he didn’t know how to react to the feelings that swirled inside when you were near.

One night you were making tea for the both of you, enjoying a cozy evening inside.

The radio playing softly in the background while V read from the book out loud.

His voice filling the house with deep rich tones that flowed from his tongue.

You found yourself enraptured as you placed the tea cup on the table at his side.

You leaned closer and closer, hanging onto every sentence until you were as close as possible.

V paused midsentence to grab his teacup but when he turned, your close proximity was a surprise and he found his lips upon yours.

You stiffened and he quickly moved away, not wanting to insult you or think that was his intentions the whole time.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had gotten so close to me.”

“That’s okay I should have just left your tea and went to sit down. I couldn’t help it as I really liked that one.”

“Would you like me to read it again?”

“Yes please.”

He patted the cushion by his side and you took the offer.

When you sat back down your teacup cupped in trembling hands.

V leaned over kissing your cheek before going back to reading to you.

#Dante X Reader #Vergil X Reader #Nero X Reader #V X Reader #DMC Imagine #Devil May Cry #Devil May Cry Imagine #DMC #Not My Gifs #My Writing

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of-many-fandomss · 1 year

Note

jake seresin being drunk and coming home to the reader and it's basically just really cute and full of fluff!!

My first top gun blurb!! (I’m so mad I had to rewrite this cause it deleted the first time and it isn’t as good this time cause I don’t remember what I wrote)

—————

Jake was vaguely aware of the fact that he reeked of alcohol, but he couldn’t really find it in himself to care as he stumbled through the short hall towards his bedroom, making a small game out of trying not to hit the walls in his drunken state.

Rooster had just dropped him off at home after a ‘guys night out’ at the Hard Deck for their first week off in a long time that may or may not have ended in one too many beers. Originally, he had insisted on staying home with you, to which you laughed and practically had to tackle him out the door to make sure he went to enjoy himself with his friend.

Clumsily, Jake flailed around for the handle, but stopped short as soon as he threw the door open. A person was sitting up against the headboard of his bed, eyes widening a little bit in surprise as they looked up from the book they held open in their lap.

A small smile formed on your lips at the sight of him standing in your doorway looking around in confusion, noticing right away that he was slightly drunk.

“Hey, honey-“

“Who are you?” He hissed in a whisper, “What are you doing in my house?”

The grin widened on your face when you realized just how drunk he was, and you feigned confusion, deciding to play along, “What do you mean?”

He sighed patiently, “Listen, you look lovely, but that’s my girlfriends spot you’re sitting on. And I really love her, so you need to leave.”

“I am your girlfriend,” You smirked, sliding off the bed and striding across the room until you were standing right in front of him, knowing full well that the two of you had been happily married for just over two years. But you also knew from past experiences that mentioning that would send your husband into a whole different spiral of emotions in his drunken state.

His eyes squinted at you until his mouth dropped open in realization and he relaxed, “Oh, darlin’ thank goodness your back,” His southern accent was thicker than it normally was when he was sober, “There was this women on your side of the bed, but I told her to get lost because I love you!” He stated proudly.

“Good job, honey,” You cooed out your praise, bringing his arm to rest around your shoulder so that you could lead him into the bathroom.

You sat him down on the closed toilet seat and made your way over to the sink to get him a cup of water, his eyes trailing after you in adoration the whole way, before you came back and handed it to him, “Drink all of this for me, will you, honey?”

“Yes, ma’am,” He murmured, causing your lips to quirk up slightly.

“I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go get you something more comfortable to wear for bed,” You gave him a quick kiss on the top of the hair before leaving the bathroom.

He frowned after you, rocking back and forth against the seat and waited for you to return.

You barley even stepped foot back into the room a moment later before he sprang up and came barreling towards you, wrapping you into a bone-crushing embrace tightly, burying his face into your hair, “Thank goodness your back!” He gushed, “I missed you so much when you were gone!”

Laugher bubbled up inside you as you wrapped your arms around your husbands torso in return, “I wasn’t gone that long, Jakey.”

“It was too long,” He whimpered back.

Carefully, you pried his hands off of you after a moment and handed him a stack of folded sleep clothes you had just taken out of his drawer.

“Can you get changed?” You asked, to which he nodded his head excitedly and whipped around, accidentally knocking over the half full cup that he had placed on the ground in the process.

“Oh, here, I got-“

“I got it!” He interrupted you excitedly, not even hesitating to shed off his shirt and bend down to start mopping the water off the floor with it.

You blinked once at his toned back, chuckling slightly to yourself at how fast he had reacted to reveal his bare top to clean up a small pile of water.

He stopped suddenly, smirking up at you, “Unless you would rather take off your shirt and do this,”

That at least emitted a loud laugh at you as you shook your head at your cocky husbands antics and helped pull him to his feet once he was all done cleaning up his mess.

You helped him put on the rest of his pajamas- mostly just making sure he didn’t fall into the bathtub- before taking his hand and starting to pull him to the room so that you could both go to sleep.

You were stopped though at a tug of resistance you felt on your arm, and you looked back to question Jake, only to find him frowning down at your intertwined fingers.

“What’s wrong, honey?” You asked worriedly.

Slowly, he lifted your hand to reveal none other than the breathtakingly beautiful, shiny ring that he had used to propose to you with a couple years ago, “You’re cheating on me?” He asked quietly, a look of nothing but devastating heartbreak on his face.

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly before your eyes widened, remembering that you had let him believe that you were still boyfriend and girlfriend, “No, no, Jakey! You’re my husband! We’re married!”

His eyes snapped up to you as his bottom lip quivered and tears began to sine in his eyes, “We are?” He addled quietly.

You quickly took his face between your hands and made him look you in the eyes, “Yes! We’ve been married for two years now!”

Automatically, as if nothing had happened, his features cleared of all sorrow and he grinned at you with a lovesick expression, “Oh, that’s good.”

You threw your head back with a laugh, continuing your journey to the bed, “Yes, that’s very good.”

Even as you helped him slide under the covers, he never once took his gaze off of you, and as you tried to move to get the light switch, you felt his strong but gentle grip stop you once more, “You’re pretty,” He commented, gaze wide and childlike.

You had to physically stop yourself from laughing, knowing that it would do nothing but upset his feelings because he never called you pretty. It was always gorgeous, stunning, beautiful, sexy- not pretty.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” You teased, unconsciously moving a hair out of his face.

“Nuh uh!” He exclaimed, shaking his head back and forth widely, “Only you!”

Your heart melted right then and there and you bent down and placed a lingering kiss on his forehead, “Thank you, Jake.”

Yet again, you tried to go and move, but his hand was still to let go of yours, so you turned back to him to see what he needed.

His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at you, “What about me?” He demanded.

“What about you?” You asked in curiosity.

“Am I pretty?” Within his tipsy state, he wasn’t even joking, making the situation that much funnier.

You chucked slightly, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, “The prettiest,” You promise.

“Nuh uh!” He protested once more.

“And why’s that?” Your eyebrows rose.

“Because you’re the prettiest,” He said in a ‘duh’ tone, “I’m the… second prettiest!”

You laughed again, squeezing his hand lovingly, “The second prettiest it is, then.”

This time, he let you turn off the lights, and by the time you turned back to the bed, his breathing had already evened out and his chest was falling up and down steadily.

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin blurb #hangman x reader #hangman blurb #top gun blurb #top gun x reader

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dreamescapeswriting · 1 year

Text

Stray Kids Reaction ~ He’s Drunk And You Have To Pick Him Up

⤜ WORD COUNT: 2.6K altogether

⤜MASTERLIST

CHAN: It wasn't often that Chan drank any alcohol so when you'd gotten the call to come and pick your drunken boyfriend up from the dorms you weren't at all surprised. The boys had informed you that it hadn't taken many drinks to get the leader drunk which you put down to the fact he hadn't drunk much in his years of being an idol.

"I love you," Chan said as you continued to drive him home, you let out a small giggle at the thought and glanced at him.

"Yeah? How much?" You quizzed, pulling into the driveway as Chan hummed and hared over what it was he was going to say and you shut down the car.

"Soooooooo much," He slurred a little and you laughed, slowly getting out of the car and rushing around to his side so you could let him out. You'd activated the child lock since he was trying to open the doors and windows on the way home,

"If you love me, does that mean I can have a back rub tomorrow when you're feeling all better?" You teased, running your hands through his hair as he drunkenly nodded his head and laughed to himself.

"All the backrubs you want," You smirked a little and helped him through the front door of your home, taking him straight to the bathroom.

"Why here?" He frowned, but you simply handed him a glass of water and some painkillers and smiled warmly at him.

"You're probably going to be sick and when that happens I'd rather you do it in our toilet." You smiled, sitting on the floor across from him and watching as he took the tablets and downed the water from the cup.

"You're going to stay?" He seemed whiney in his drunken state and you loved that. It wasn't often you got to see Chan so whiney toward you and you were eating up every moment you had.

"Of course baby, I won't leave you alone." You smiled, dragging out a blanket and putting it over your legs.

"This is why I love you, y-you're so good to me," He started to tear up but before he could say anything else his head was in the toilet and you leaned forward, slowly rubbing his back as he threw up the contents of his stomach.

"I love you too baby," You whispered softly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade.

MINHO:

The boys had called you when Minho had gotten a bit too much for them to be able to handle, he wasn't a bad drunk or anything he was just a little loud tonight. From the videos, the guys had sent you it seemed the alcohol had brought out a louder version of your boyfriend,

"Baby, will you please get in the car..." You held the door open for Minho who was shaking his head at you, Jeongin was trying to push Minho inside but it appeared not to be working. Minho shook his head and did his best to stop Jeongin from putting him into the car.

"Don't call me that, I have a girlfriend." He cried out, your whole body heating as you looked at him it was cute that he was willing to defend your relationship while he was drunk. Even if he was only defending it to you at least he was more than likely to do it to anyone else that made a move too.

"Your girlfriend is the one trying to get you home," Jeongin whispered, a deep blush filling your boyfriend's cheeks as he looks at you the realisation that you were hitting him as he started to smile brightly.

"Beautiful!" He cried out, leaning over toward you and kissing your cheeks, sloppy kisses lining your face as you let out a small groan at the feel of them. You loved Minho to the world but you didn't exactly like feeling his sloppy kisses on your skin.

"Now will you get in the car?" You quizzed, looking at him as his cheeks began to burn even more nodding at you as he lifted your hand up to his lips and kissed it softly.

"For a princess? Of course," He slowly slid into the back seat and you let out a small sigh as you shut the door. You put your attention back on the guys who were all laughing and had their phones out, this was going to be a moment Minho would never live down.

"Has he been like this all night?" You laughed, looking to Jeongin who seemed to be relieved that Minho was now out of his hair.

"A little, but I think it's because he mixed different types of drinks." He chuckles nervously and you nodded, glancing at Minho who appeared to be getting restless in the car, so you waved bye to the boys and headed home.

CHANGBIN:

It seemed alcohol made Changbin louder than usual and you found it rather cute. What was supposed to be a nice night in with the boys had turned into some drinking games and now you were being called to collect your boyfriend.

"You want to know a secret?" Changbin asked as you got him into bed. It had become clear when you arrived at the dorms you had little to no chance of getting him back to your own place so he was staying here with you tonight at the dorms.

"Go on," You giggled, making sure he was warm enough in the bed before sitting down on the edge of it and looking at him. You gently took your hand and began to comb it through his hair,

"I'm writing a song about yn," Your hand stilled as you stared down at him, your heart pounding at the thought of him writing about you.

"You are?" Your voice cracked ever so slightly as you tried not to let the tears go that you were holding back at the thought of it all.

"Yeah, but you can't tell her. It's a secret," He hummed, closing his eyes as he snuggled down into the sheets and let out a small whine.

"What's wrong?" You quizzed, running your hand over his cheek as he whined again pouting out his bottom lip at the action.

"I miss her, I miss Yn." You bit back a laugh before kissing his forehead, his face burning up as he slowly opened his eyes to look at you.

"I'm right here baby," Before you had time to process what was happening you were being wrapped in his arms under the covers and pulled into a tight embrace.

HYUNJIN:

You'd gotten the call at 3 am to come and get Hyunjin from the bar and after a bunch of convincing you'd finally managed to get inside the crowded bar and make your way to the VIP section.

"Chan!" You called out, waving him over. You might have been able to convince the guy at the front door that you needed to get inside but you knew there was no way of getting past the guards that were at the VIP door. You were dressed in some PJs so you were pretty surprised you'd gotten this far.

"You can let her in," The guard stepped out of the way and you stepped over the small velvet rope and saw Hyunjin sitting at a table. From the way Chan had sounded on the phone you expected to find Hyunjin in a drunken messy state but he seemed pretty well kept from where you were standing.

"I thought he was being a nuisance?" You laughed a little and Chan smirked, slowly moving you closer to the table. Hyunjin was surrounded by girls but all he could talk about was you, he kept telling them all about you and how much he loved you.

"I swear, I'm going to get her to come out one night and meet everyone. I'm sure you'll love her as much as I do." Your body heated at the thought of him speaking about you like this and you giggled, walking over and sitting on the table directly in front of him.

"Did I just wish you to be here and it came true?!" He gasped loudly, taking your face in both of his hands and turning your head toward the light as if he was checking you were real.

"Of course baby. Now It's my wish that we go home," You smiled warmly at the girls who looked rather relieved to not have to listen to your rambling boyfriend anymore.

"Home? Lets go," He closed his eyes tightly and when he opened them he appeared to be frowning,

"I thought we would go home." He whines a little as you stand up, carefully taking his hand in your own and helping him to his feet.

"We have to drive, come on prince charming. Let's head home," You giggled, dragging him past the boys who were all starting to tease him ever so slightly.

JISUNG:

When Jisung was sober he wouldn't dare make a move on you but it appeared drunken Jisung was very charismatic and flirty with you. The boys had called you a little over an hour ago to come to the dorms to take Jisung home with you but he'd failed to let you leave.

"Come on, sit on my lap and give me a kiss," He winked at you, his lips turning up at the corner and smirking at you as he saw you getting shy about all of it.

"You're adorable when you get shy," He lifted his hand to your cheek, gently stroking his thumb across your bottom lip and smirking even more when you averted your gaze from him.

"Flirt back," Felix chuckled, you looked over at him and arched an eyebrow at the member.

"I bet he won't know what to do." You nodded slowly looking back at your boyfriend who was now running his hands up and down your outer thigh. This was as open and forward as he'd been with you since the two of you had started dating a few months back and you were enjoying it - even if it was false bravado.

"Jisung," You whispered sweetly, leaning down and kissing his jawline slowly making your way up to his ear,

"Why don't we take this to your room? You can show me how good you can make me feel." The movement of his hand on your thigh ceased and his eyes widened as he stared at you.

"W-What?" He stuttered, his skin turning bright red as he shifted away from you on the sofa,

"Let's go to bed together," You ran your fingers over his chest and he blushed even more, whimpering a little.

"I-I'm going to go to sleep," He whispered before rushing in the direction of his bedroom.

"That was the easiest way to get him to sleep," You giggled slowly beginning to clean up the mess he'd been making with his drinks. FELIX: Ever since Felix had gotten into the car he hadn't stopped touching your face, it was small gentle caresses over your skin as he stared at you in complete "awe".

"You have an adorable boyfriend." The taxi driver said as you looked over at him in the mirror, you smiled a little.

"He's a little drunk, and he gets a little clingy when he's drunk." You giggled a little feeling Felix turning your head to look at him before smiling like a drunken fool at you. It was rather adorable to see him like this and all for you,

"You're so pretty," He whispered, chuckling a little when you whimpered at him feeling your body shiver at the compliment. It was something simple and yet the mere action made your entire body tingle.

"T-Thanks Lixie," You smiled, gently holding his hand and squeezing it ever so slightly.

"I love it when you call me that, it makes my whole body tingle." He laughed a little, laying his head down on your shoulder before continuing to call you "pretty" and "beautiful".

It didn't stop the whole car ride home and even now as the two of you were climbing into bed together.

"I wonder if you'll remember this in the morning," You laughed as he wrapped his arms around you, dragging your body to be curled into him from behind so you were spooning him.

"I will, and then I'll call you beautiful all over again," He yawned, cuddling into the sheets while you gently placed a kiss on his shoulder.

SEUNGMIN:

"I'm never going to forgive you for this," You mumbled to Chan as you drove everyone home that night. He and Seungmin were going back to your place since Seungmin wasn't able to control the sound of his own voice right now since he appeared to be screaming whenever he spoke.

"It's not my fault he thinks he's speaking normally, blame the bar." You glared at Chan in retaliation and he chuckled looking over at Seungmin who was in the middle seat. You'd had to put the child lock on the windows because every now and again he would open them to scream outside about how much he loved STAY and you.

"You doing okay Seungmin?" You questioned as you pulled up at a red light, turning to look at him and coming face to face with Seungmin.

"I LOVE YOU! YOU'RE SO GOOD TO ME!" You giggled a little and turned to face the front again, driving as he continued to yell about how much he loved you.

"He's going to hear all about this in the morning," Chan chuckled. The boys had been recording Seungmin while they waited for you to come and pick him up.

"I hoe you guys send me copies of everything," You smirked pulling into your driveway and going to help Seungmin out of the car and into the house.

"YOU'RE THE BEST! ISN'T SHE THE BEST CHAN?!" Seungmin screamed out and you laughed a little, praying none of your neighbours was going to put in a complaint about the noise.

JEONGIN:

"I'm going to marry you," Jeongin said as he sat up, wiping his mouth on the towel you were holding out for him. You'd picked him up an hour ago and bought him home where he sat in front of the toilet to be sick.

"Yeah?" You giggled, stroking hair out of his forehead and smiling a little, it was adorable just how affectionate he was being toward you and you couldn't help but get a warm feeling in your chest about it. You and Jeongin had been together for about four years and the topic of marriage had never really been bought up unless it was a joke between the boys and him.

"Hmm, Channie-Hyung is going to help me look for a ring next week, he promised." You laughed a little and he frowned suddenly regretting the fact that he'd told you that.

"I shouldn't have told you that," He whined, tears starting to spring into his eyes. Your hands rushed out to cup his face as you stroked your thumb along his skin softly,

"It's okay, you don't mean it baby you're just drunk." You reminded him, hoping he wouldn't start crying right now. Drunken crying was the worst type of crying - right after crying because someone asked if you were okay that was.

"N-No...I mean it. We were planning on going next week and now I ruined the surprise." He instantly rested his head on your chest and began to cry into your shoulder while you gently stroked his back. Your heart felt as though it was about to burst at this information but you tried to contain yourself.

"I'll pretend I never heard you say it," You suggested, making Jeongin sniffle and nod his head at you.

Tagline: @chiisaiblog @hanasonmi @sw33tnight @taestannie @illicee @army24--7 @acciocriativity @scarletemeterio @halesandy @lost-leopard-beanie @aerastus @laylasbunbunny @critssq @pearlygraysky @lenfilms @btsiguess-kpop @meowmeowisdaname @imafivestarkpopstan

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alittlebitofsainz · 6 days

Text

- you swear that you listened -

prompt: “so take me to every party and just talk to your friends.”

pairing: logan sargeant x reader

summary: why did he even bring you to meet his friends if he was going to forget you even existed? featuring an important conversation and a dog at the party

a/n: lyrics from track #65 - worst of you by maisie peters :)

masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection

“babe, what’s up with you? you’ve been quiet all night.”

“yeah, maybe it’s cos you didn’t talk to me for the entire time.” you shot back, both your words and tone harsher than you’d intended. logan was silent after that, and you stole a glance across to him sat in the passenger seat, immediately feeling guilty when you saw the wounded look on his face. you turned your gaze back to the road ahead with a heavy sigh.

it wasn’t really your fault that you were in such a bad mood; it had been your first time meeting a bunch of his childhood friends, stressful enough without the added bonus of you being the designated driver, so you had had to watch everyone slowly getting more and more intoxicated while you nursed the same diet coke for three hours straight. you’d offered to stay sober, but only because logan had emphasised that he hadn’t seen these friends in years, and it would be really nice to catch up with them over a beer, and you don’t really drink that much anyway, so you don’t mind driving, right?

“I don’t mind.” you’d said, because you knew logan had been having a tough season, and you wanted nothing more than to see him enjoying himself with his friends. and you. that had been the key part that was missing. you tried to join in on their conversations, you really did, but they were full of stories from the time before you even knew logan, sentences always seeming to start with “do you remember when…”. and every time you tried to speak up, to input something, the topic would change again, someone speaking over the top of you to remind the group of another funny anecdote from their past. you tried to catch logan’s eye, but to no avail, too wrapped up in old memories and the beer in his hand.

eventually you’d made an excuse about going to find the toilet, and disappeared off into a living room that no one was in. you weren’t even sure whether logan had noticed you were gone; you could still hear the ringing of his laughter drifting through the cracks between the door and the doorframe. at the least the dog came to find you. dogs were always the best thing at parties.

the worst part was that you didn’t know how to handle this. it had never happened before, you weren’t used to it. logan was always so attentive, so loving, so caring. he never failed to tell you, or show you, how much you really meant to him, his light shining through the darkness that had been this rollercoaster of a season. but around his friends, he just seemed different. like he’d forgotten you were even there.

the silence lasted the rest of the drive home. you once risked a glance across to logan, but his head was turning away, chin resting in his hand, his elbow propped against the passenger window, looking out at the world passing by as if he was deep in thought. from this angle, you couldn’t read his expression. you didn’t know if you even wanted to.

“I’m sorry, please, y/n, if I’ve done something wrong…”

logan tried again as you entered his apartment, his words slurred slightly, reminding you that now wasn’t time for this conversation when he was several beers deep and you were stone cold sober.

“really, lo, it’s…” you couldn’t bring yourself to say it’s fine, so you just shook your head instead. “let’s just talk about it in the morning, okay?” you murmured, catching a glimpse of his crestfallen expression as you passed by him, a sight that made your heart ache. you both got ready for bed without speaking again, the tension in the air uncomfortable.

and when morning rolled around and the sun filtering through the curtains woke you from sleep, you found yourself still reluctant to talk about it. you rolled over, turning to face logan, only to find a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at you.

“you were mad at me.”

you bit back a sarcastic good morning to you too. now was not the time.

“what?” you tried feigning ignorance, voice quiet.

“last night, you were mad at me.” logan repeated, and you realised you weren’t getting out of this one. “why? I don’t get it; did you not have a good time?”

you blinked, letting his word settle in your mind, before your brows folded into a soft frown.

“you didn’t even notice?” you murmured, knowing what the answer would be.

“notice what?” logan’s face scrunched up in confusion, searching back through his memories, desperately trying to remember something specific in the haze of what had happened last night. you sighed. it was the answer you’d been expecting, and dreading.

“I left, like, halfway through. went and sat in the living room. alone.” you explained, trying to spell it out for him. logan’s confused expression deepened.

“w- wha- why?” he stuttered, propping himself up on his elbow, “baby, you should’ve told me if you weren’t having a good-“

“I tried to!” you cut him off sharply, tone growing exasperated, “I tried to, but I couldn’t get your attention. not even for two minutes. it felt like I wasn’t even there.”

he opened his mouth to argue, but found nothing to argue back with. now that he thought about it, you were right. he had barely noticed you, once he was surrounded by his friends and stories of old times, and he felt fucking awful about it.

“I’m sorry. oh, fuck, babe, I really am sorry.” he stammered, trying to get all his apologies out at once, words tripping out over his tongue. you both appreciated and hated seeing him so remorseful; you knew you couldn’t just let it slide, or it would only happen again and make you feel worse, but at the same time you knew logan was genuinely sorry.

“it’s okay, lo.” you reached out a hand, taking his in yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. he drew in a soft breath, as if he expected a fight instead of forgiveness, and when his eyes met yours again they were glistening with unshed tears of remorse, “it was an accident, I know you didn’t mean to. everyone makes mistakes, right? we’re learning together.” you continued, a soft smile spreading across your face as you watched him relax slightly, tension leaving his shoulders. he nodded, ducking his head away to try and hide the tear thar had slipped down his cheek.

“right,” he agreed shakily, “I’m still sorry I made you feel forgotten about, really. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“I know.” you replied softly, releasing his hand from yours and instead holding out both your arms as a silent invitation. logan was only too happy to accept, shuffling across the bed towards you and burying his head into the crook of your neck, your arms securing around his back. you felt him take a deep breath into your shoulder, chest rising deeply before falling back down again.

“I really love you, you know that, right?” he murmured, voice muffled as he rested his cheek against your skin. you chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

“I know. I love you too, Lo.”

a/n: i tried so hard to leave this on a more angsty ending but honestly i just can’t be mean to logan for more than five seconds he deserves happiness even if its just in fictional form

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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