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joonipertree · 11 months

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Gang Leader Girlfriend Things™

Tags: Mikey x Fem!reader, Fluff, crack, no angst, he's only soft for you <3, love of his life

You know, I think the first rule of joining a gang should be 'don't piss off the leader'. Like, you wanna fight people who can whoop your ass? Go for it, that takes courage and respect. But you join a gang like Toman with 'Invincible Mikey' as the head, the one thing you should probably not do is make him mad.

(Nobody is stupid enough to do that though, much less Toman.)

Mikey personally didn't fight the weak, finds no joy in something that isn't a challenge. Two highschoolers that got recruited by Mitchy's crew? He could tell they were nothing from the back of their babbling heads.

"My god, there's no way a girl like that is here. She's so fucking hot."

"What's a girl even doing in a gang? There's no way she fights."

Mikey's eye twitched. Not only are you most definitely in Toman, with a gang jacket and everything (You had your own but you ended up wearing his most of the time, pretty in what's his.) One of Toman's strongest was Senju, someone who would kick their ass too.

"Do you think she's single?"

"She is not." Mikey drawled, eyes dead and head tilted. Draken came behind him, wondering why his captain was just standing there. Mikey was always friendly with new members but very evidently, those two were an exception.

"What a bummer. She could've been mine."

Draken wanted to laugh so badly but Mikey's hand was warning him into silence before he could.

Mikey couldn't see the dude's face but knew that he was too ugly for you. You weren't into pathetic fucks. And the only person Mikey was pathetic for, was you.

A lot of gang members' eyes were on them now, ready to bow to their captain but stopping when Draken raised his palm. They could tell something was off, looking at the two kids who just didn't bother turning. The aura around Mikey was practically tangible though, suffocating to anyone who took notice.

Yamagishi staggered towards his friends, ready to point out the very dangerous threat behind them. Of course, he was the one who recruited them. If he wasn't Takemitchy's friend, Mikey would've added him to his blacklist. Mikey's finger against his lip kept Yamagishi from saying anything. Their fates were sealed already.

"Man, I could probably take her boyfriend on. Easy win and I get her."

Draken choked, Yamagishi wanted to die, the few people who were close enough to listen stepped away. Mikey still didn't say anything, because the moment he was waiting for finally happened.

Chifuyu had let you know of the arrival with a nod of his head, pausing in his rant about a manga you guys had been reading. You saw Draken's head first, eyes lowering, knowing that Mikey would always fall close. And there he was, his blond ponytail the only thing you could see. Your heart filled up like it always did because fuck, you wanted to consume him in your love. His eyes peaked out and your smile stretched your cheeks.

You walked as if on auto pilot, feet having a pep in them as you did. He stepped out in full view and you squealed at his gentle eyes and outstretched arms. You practically ran to him, you missed him and missed him and missed him.

Your shoulder grazed someone's as you zoomed past and launched yourself into Manjiro's warm embrace. Strong arms encircled you immediately, his cheek squishing against yours. And before you knew it, your feet were off the ground as he twirled you around. Unabashed laughter left your lips, hanging onto him and letting his warm and wet kisses pepper your face. The swooping in your chest was welcomed, clinging to the boy you've loved for years. Your precious----

"Hi, Jiro~" You crooned, eyes open to catch his reddened cheeks and sparkling eyes.

He put your feet on the ground and pulled you close by the waist, noses touching each other's.

"Hi, baby." He said in a hushed voice.

You gave his cheek a peck, knowing one on the lips would result in him not getting off of you. There was supposed to be a meeting, so you decided to have him later. Being a gang leader's girlfriend was hard work.

"Did you have a good day?" You asked, knowing he woke up an hour ago, barely in the realm to text you a 'good morning, honey' ('Morning' in Mikey's realm was 1pm).

"Mhm." Mikey hummed, giving your cheek a kiss too. You relished in it.

"Where are you going?" Draken's voice came gruffly and you saw the tall man with his hands on two members' shoulders.

Your boyfriend's gaze fell on them, hardened and cold. It made you shiver, his arms tightening around you when you did. It didn't scare you, he looked hot but it never meant anything good.

You blinked at the two boys, confused and just now noticing the complete silence and the eyes of everyone on you.

I mean, you were a spectacle whenever Jiro was involved but weren't they used to it by now?

"You guys have really bad awareness if you didn't notice me even when I spoke up. I don't know if we want that in our gang." Mikey's words were sweet but dripping in venom, a grin to hide his clear rage.

"I'm so so sorry, boss! We didn't know she was yours, I swear!!" Dude no 1 got on his knees immediately, more so because his legs gave out.

"It's our first day, please have mercy." Dude no 2 shouted, bowing till his head met the floor.

Oh, you thought, they were actual idiots.

Seeing people bow and beg at your boyfriend was always surreal. You knew he had repertoire and respect because of years of being a gang leader. Personally, you never really understood gang things tm. But you knew your Mikey could kick ass and people looked up to him, so you always enjoyed the times he did gang leader things tm cuz it was hot.

"Yamagishi, you recruited them so you have responsibility. Have anything to add?" Mikey asked the frozen boy, who probably stopped breathing a long time ago.

"Uh, it was Takemitchy's idea?" The boy said, knowing who Mikey's kryptonite was.

"You're the one who asked me. Don't try to get me killed along with them!" The acting president hollered.

Mikey turned to his best friend, smile still plastered on his face. If Takemitchy didn't have the trauma to back up his biggest endeavour, he would be worried that the dark impulse would've possessed him from that interaction alone.

"Mitchy, normally I would let the head captain step in for any decision made about their division. But since they directly challenged me, we have to deal with it like all gangs do, right?"

"We didn't....we didn't know, promise!" Dude no 2 peeped out.

"Hmm, but wasn't it you who said that you could take her boyfriend on? It'd be an easy win? There's enough people who witnessed that."

"Oh, Lord Almighty." Takemitchy murmured, "nothing can save them now."

"Not even an hour in and they're going to die." Another murmur from the crowd. (It was Ran)

"I never said that, I am not a part of this." Dude no 1 threw his friend under the bus immediately. It was understandable.

"'She could've been mine,'" Mikey practically sang, taking off his jacket, "is what you said, right?"

"No I couldn't," you spoke absentmindedly, only looking at your boyfriend cuz you'd lost interest in the morons, "you're too ugly for me."

It was a blow that hit almost as hard as the kick they were about to receive. Mikey let out an affectionate snort as he covered your head with his jacket. The heavy material blocking your peripheral as he left your side within a second. A sick crack brandished the air, followed by two thuds.

"Welp, that fight didn't last. How boring, wanted to show off." Mikey sounded bored, the asphalt crunching under his slippers as he walked back.

"Are they--" Takemitchy's panicked pitch followed, a very common tone whenever Mikey was involved.

"Breathing." Draken called out, giving them a light kick on the side to check.

"Takemitchy, your crew is banned from recruiting." Their leader yelled back with his head only half turned, a flurry of 'yes sir!'s came.

"Thank you for holding onto my jacket, baby." Mikey whispered as he took the jacket off your head and draped it on his shoulders. His eyes were back to being kind and gentle, warm hand cupping your face in gratitude. You melted into him, eyes closing. He left a kiss on your forehead, keeping you close.

"Ah, I'm hungry," he whined, "let's go get mcdonald's. I didn't eat breakfast."

"You didn't?" You asked as he interwined your fingers together and tugged.

"I had cereal but that barely counts." Mikey started chattering on, waving a hand to dismiss the meeting that never began.

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tvgals · 4 months

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i accidentally posted it so i had to delete it 😪

ALSO THANK UOU BAE 💞💞

‘ LET THE LIGHT IN. ‘

even though bully! connie had undeniable feelings for you, he hadn’t told anyone besides you yet. how big of a mistake was that?

you were smiling at yourself while getting ready for you and connie’s second date. you were officially his girlfriend, no one else knew but you two. connie said he’d never keep you two a secret! the lies he told.

your phone started to ring, the name ‘con 💞’ popping up. you grinned and answered the facetime. he was in the car with someone, a boy it sounded like. you were 50% sure it was his friend eren, but you weren’t sure.

“hi baby!” you grinned, waving at him.

connie’s eyes go wide, he immediately turns down the volume and keeps on driving, not saying a word. this was weird. usually he’d be so excited to be on the phone with you, so enthusiastic to talk to you, why was he so different now?

“who that?” you hear the boy in the passenger seat talk, now you were sure it was eren. “it ain’t nobody.” connie responds. eren laughed to himself. “i know that ain’t y/n.” you perk up at the sound of your name, you purse your lips and listen further. connie gave eren a look to ‘shut the fuck up’ but he kept on going. “bro, just tell her about the prank. i’ve seen her following you around, shit’s getting embarrassing.” eren starts to laugh harder.

“you haven’t told her yet? dude, you’re gonna crush her.” eren reprimanded connie through laughs. good thing this was his house. “okay okay, i’ll see you tomorrow?” eren asks, sticking his hand out so connie can dap him up, but connie just huffed and told eren to get out.

once the coast was clear, you sniffled. “what prank, connie?” connie’s heart breaks at the sound of your weak voice. he turns his phone back up and sighs. “nothing, baby.” connie sighed. “it is something. i’m not stupid!” you say into the phone. you’d gotten all pretty for no reason. for someone who asked you out as a joke. “no, it’s not. eren is just a dumbass. don’t listen to him.” connie tries to shrug off the situation.

“fuck you connie. i thought you’d actually change for me. i’m breaking up with you. don’t text me, don’t call me, don’t come over. we’re done.” you cry into the phone. you hang up and block connie, throwing your phone onto your bed. connie fucked up. something in his head told him to tell everyone else before shit got fucked up, but he never did. and it came back to bite him in the ass.

“jesus..” connie mumbled to himself, rubbing his face. he never knew this would blow up in his face. he thought it would just be harmless and no one would get hurt. he looked at the time, 5:45 and he headed off to walmart. he had to make it up to you. he pulled into the walmart parking lot, shoving his phone into his pocket. he walks inside and goes directly to the floral section, grabbing you a plethora of pink and purple and orange flowers. he smiles at the sight of your face in his mind. he hopes you can forgive him. connie then relocates to the card section, where he grabbed you a plain pink glittery card, where he plans to write a message to you. he then grabs you a few plushies and a pink gift bag.

he checks out and heads to his car, holding his breath on the drive to your house. he can’t even listen to music. he’s scared he’ll find a song that’ll remind him of you. he parked his car across from your house. he turns his car off and takes a deep breath, grabbing his gifts and walking to your door. connie is glad he knows his way around your family. your dad takes the morning shift, so he’s dead asleep while your mom takes third shift, so she’s at work. he lightly knocks on the door a few times. “please, y/n…” he whispers to himself. he gets a bit excited when he hears the pitter patter of your feet. he’s sure you have those cute pink socks with the bow on the top. you open the big door, sighing at the sight of connie.

“i told you don’t come over…” your voice is hoarse, sounding as if you’ve been crying ever since you’d hung the phone up. “i couldn’t just let you leave me without an explanation, baby.” connie says. “i gotchu some stuff…can we just talk?” he asks. you look down at his hands to see flowers and that cute little pink gift bag. “okay.” you say. you unlock the screen door and connie walks in, closing both doors before taking his shoes off. he follows behind you to your room. he intakes the familiar smell of winter candy apple immediately. connie hands you your gifts, which you handle with care when you place it on your nightstand.

“talk, connie.” you mumble, fiddling around with your fingers. “look, it was…” connie struggles to get the words out. “it was a prank.” connie admits, his head hanging low. you hold your breath, trying not to cry. “so what the fuck did you come over here for? just to play in my face?” you ask, almost crying. “no, no. you ain’t let me get to the point mama.” connie said, pulling you close. you tried to resist, but your mind wouldn’t let you.

“it started off as a prank. but when i started gettin’ to know you and seeing how you are, i fell in love. im sorry i didn’t tell anyone, baby…” connie apologized, rubbing circles along your hips. you gave yourself a second to register what he said to you. is he telling the truth? or was he just trying to string you along? “okay…” you mumble. “so you forgive me?” connie asks, hope in his voice. you sigh. “how are you gonna make it up to me? y’know i can’t forgive you this easy.” you grin, looking up at him. “i gotchu, mama.” connie says. he gently pushed you down on the bed. shimmying you out your pajama pants.

“you’re so pretty f’me…” he whispers, pulling your print panties to the side and gently kissing your cunt. “please connie, don’t tease.” you whine, arching your back. connie knew this was his last chance to make it up to you, so he did what he had to please you. he delve into your cunt, slurping and pressing sloppy kisses to it. connie almost lived in your cunt, always eating you out when you were stressed about finals, maybe even if you were just minding your business. “shit, connie!” you groan, arching your back and pushing his head further.

“mhmm…” connie hummed into your pretty pussy. “jesus, con!” you whined, your legs tightening around connie’s head. connie pulled away for a brief second. “open ‘em up, mama.” connie instructed you, pushing your legs apart before continuing to eat you out. “i’m gonna cum!” you moaned, trying to be quiet to not wake up your dad. “mhm, cum f’me…” he mumbles as you came on his face. connie couldn’t be more handsome than what he was now. his eyes low and filled with lust. “gonna let me fuck you now?” connie asked, pulling his dick out his nike sweatpants. “mhm…” you hum, pulling connie close to you. he chuckles at the action, pushing his dick inside your wet cunt.

“i’m so sorry, baby…” connie whimpers, thrusting into your cunt. “it’s okay…it’s okay…i k-know you didn’t mean it.” you forgive connie, holding his veiny hands. “please please, i didn’t mean f-for this to happen…i love you y/n.” connie moaned into your ear, his pace getting gradually faster. “don’t just throw that word around!” you reprimanded him, clawing at his back. “m not…i mean it…” connie whispers, almost too quiet to hear. “p-promise?” you sigh out, arching your back. “pinky promise.” connie smiled.

“‘m gonna cum…gonna cum so hard…” connie warned you. moaning like there’s nothing else in the world but you. “where d’you want it?” connie asks, looking up at you. “inside…” you gripe, curling your toes. with a few more strokes and moans, connie shoots his cum inside of you, biting your shoulder to keep quiet. after a few minutes of silence, you suck up the courage to ask connie a question.

“you really love me?” you ask, looking into his big olive eyes. “of course i do…” connie grinned, pressing kisses to your face. “so you forgive me?” connie asks, holding your hand. “yes. but you have to tell people we’re dating.”

“deal.”

TAGLIST :

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black-rose-writings · 9 months

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Things I have gathered about Danny Phanton without having ever watched the show (from posts and fanfics):

There's ghosts and they're kind of assholes, but they're also all friends and have christmas parties. Their presence is treated as a mild annoyance by everyone except the ghost hunters.

The main character is a dead 14yo. Sometimes. He's also trans.

There are adult professional ghost hunters around. Literally all of them seem like they are just taking out their serial killer urges on ghosts. "Man is the real monster" trope in action. At least some of the ghost hunters are a Men In Black parody.

The dead 14yo actually the most competent at removing ghosts from the mortal plane.

There is another 14yo who is not dead and also hunting ghosts. She's somehow also more competent at it than the adults.

The MC's parents are ghost hunters and want to torture him into perma-death. That is somehow not the biggest problem with their parenting.

(Like, I get that adults in kids' media need to be kinda dumb and immature for the premise of the show/book/movie/whatever to work, but I'm getting the feeling the adults in this show cross the line of 'plot necessary dumbass' into 'fucked up and abusive' territorry.)

One of the ghosts is tiny, piloting a giant mecha suit and dedicated to skinning the MC and hanging his skin on his wall. He somehow also has a cool rocker girlfriend and thinks this will impress her. Jury's out on whether or not that's a good strategy.

There is a ghost called the Box Ghost, who demands to be taken seriously. Nobody takes him seriously.

The MC's nemesis is another dude who is sometimes dead. He looks like a vampire and swears in food. He also wants to kill the MC's dad (for mostly valid reasons) and bang his mom (for no good reason at all) and adopt the MC as his son(mostly because of his hangups around the parents, not because said parents suck at being parents). In a villainous and fucked up way, because he's the main antagonists. He's also a billionaire, has a cat, and is weirdly obsessed with american football (IDK jack shit about american football, but the level of obsession is treated as not normal by the characters so I will assume it is weird and just how americans be like).

There were 3 seasons, but half of the fandom is convinced the third one may have been a fever dream because it's so bad.

There was a finale that everyone pretends didn't happen because it sucked.

There is at least one time travel fix it episode and the time travel ghost wears way too many watches.

The MC has two living friends - Wade from Kim Possible, but thinner and leaves his house, and a jewish goth vegan.

The MC has a clone and she's a baby and a gremlin.

The ships all have the weirdest fucking names.

Somehow half the named characters being dead is not the angstiest part of the show.

I kinda want to know how someone came up with it and what drugs they were taking. IDK if I want to try some or avoid them, but it would be good to know either way.

#danny phantom #if anyone has actually seen the show how close am i?#I'm probably going to find out soon enough myself because I do kinda want to watch it

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0cta9on · 4 months

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Beach Day

length: +3k words

Genre: smut

Nmixx Haewon x Male Reader

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

The bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Your teacher dismissed the class as the sound of shuffling bags and miscellaneous chatter filled the room.

“Yo, Minhyuk!”

You turn to your best friend, Junseo, who was sat next to you.

“Did you invite anyone to our beach party yet? Jaewon and I already got Lily and Yoona to tag along,” he asks. Your stomach dropped at the question.

“U-uh, no, sorry. I think I’ll just sit this one out, you guys go and have fun without me,” you say.

Junseo sighs, annoyed at your lame excuse. “Dude, quit being a bitch and ask Haewon already. The worst thing she’ll say is no.”

You and your friends had planned on going to the beach this weekend, and Jaewon suggested that all three of you would invite a girl to make things more “interesting”. It’s not that you didn’t have any girl to invite; it’s quite the opposite. You had your eyes dead set on one girl: Oh Haewon. You’ve had a crush on her since you first laid eyes on her and you would gladly sell your limbs if it meant getting to spend one second alone with her. There’s only one problem - She’s the most popular girl in school, and you were just… You.

“That’s the thing, Junseo. She’s obviously gonna say no,” you reason as you grab your things and exit the classroom, Junseo following closely behind you.

“Why do you think we invited Lily and Yoona? Those three are close, of course Haewon is gonna say yes.” Junseo suddenly grabs your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks. “Speak of the devil, they’re right there.” He points towards the end of the hallway where, lo and behold, Haewon, Lily, and Yoona were talking.

You gulp as your throat suddenly becomes dry. Even in a simple school uniform, she was the most beautiful girl you have ever seen. The overwhelming feeling of attraction towards her makes your heart race, which has the unfortunate side effect of turning you into a blubbering nervous wreck.

Junseo starts pushing you towards her. “C’mon dude, just go and ask her.” You try to stop him, but your legs are practically wet spaghetti noodles at this point. Before you know it, you find yourself right in front of the three girls, their eyes staring back at you.

“H-Hae… H-hhhhh… Hi…” you stutter breathlessly. Junseo smacks the back of your head, bringing you back to your senses.

“Hello ladies, my friend Minhyuk here has something to ask Haewon,” he says, patting your shoulder reassuringly.

You awkwardly clear your throat, staring at the ground as you’re too intimidated to look her in the eye. “U-uh, do you wanna… go to the beach with us tomorrow?” You brace yourself, expecting rejection.

“Yeah, sure, sounds like fun!” she says in a bright, cheery tone. You couldn’t believe your ears at first. Your lips curved onto a goofy smile as Junseo held you up from fainting, your legs reduced to jelly.

“Cool, we’ll see you girls tomorrow then,” Junseo says as he drags you away. Right as you round the corner, you see Haewon and the other two giggling amongst themselves.

______________________________________________________________

*Beep beep beep*

You groan as you shut off the alarm on your phone. 7:00 am. You had a couple hours before Jaewon would pick you up for your beach trip. The excitement from being able to spend alone time with Haewon made you restless, so you decided to put in a quick workout to make sure you looked your best for the beach. While you weren’t an athlete like Junseo and Jaewon were, they always forced you to go to the gym with them, resulting in you having a pretty solid physique that you hoped Haewon would notice.

Time flies by, and after a shower and getting your stuff ready, you hear a honk from outside, signaling Jaewon’s arrival. You head outside and see Junseo hanging his head out of the passenger side window.

“Yo Minhyuk! Hurry up and get your ass in the car!” he yells, a mischievous smirk adorned on his face. You give him a weird look before opening the door to the back, only to be faced with Lily and Yoona.

“Hey, Minhyuk.”

“Hiiiii.”

You give them an awkward nod, feeling a little confused. You assumed the girls would be going in a different car and the three of you would meet them at the beach.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, I went ahead and picked up the girls since they live close,” Jaewon says, looking at you through the rear view mirror with a smirk on his face. Jaewon was the most soft spoken out of the three of you, but he always had some kind of trick up his sleeve. You scoot next to Lily, oblivious to whatever he was planning.

“Alright, we just gotta pick up Haewon and then we’ll be good to go. The back is only meant to seat three, but I’m sure you guys don’t mind squeezing her in there, right?” Jaewon says, his smirk growing into a full on toothy smile. Your eyes go wide with shock as the realization hits you - he was planning on smushing you in the back with Haewon. While you weren’t completely opposed to the idea, you can only imagine how much of an awkward mess you’re going to be with her practically breathing down your neck. After a short drive, Jaewon stops in front of what you assume is Haewon’s house.

“I’ll tell her that we’re here,” Lily says, typing on her phone. You gulp, suddenly feeling very anxious. The girl of your dreams was about to be squished next to you and you were almost 100% sure that you would find a way to fumble this. While lost in thought, the car door opens, revealing a smiling Haewon wearing baggy sweatpants and a white, tight fitting tank top that accentuated her breasts.

“Hey guys!” she greets. Lily and Yoona greet her back, while all you can muster is an awkward hand wave.

“Yo Haewon, are you alright with squeezing in the back next to Minhyuk?” Junseo asks, a sly twinkle in his eyes. Your only wish right now is to strangle his neck with the seatbelt.

“Yeah, that should be fine,” Haewon replies as she scoots next to you. You give Lily and Yoona an apologetic look as you push them to make room for Haewon. Miraculously, the four of you are able to successfully pack together like a can of sardines. The soft skin of Haewon’s arm brushes against you, causing your cock to spring to life from the sudden contact. You mentally facepalm as you try to focus on something else, hoping none of the girls notice your bulge.

“Yoona, you can come sit on my lap if it’s too cramped back there,” Junseo says.

“In your dreams, pervert,” Yoona says, grimacing. The rest of the car erupts into laughter while Junseo sulks in his seat.

______________________________________________________________

Junseo and the girls fell asleep on the drive to the beach, while you were way too excited to even think about sleep.

“Wake up y’all. We’re here,” Jaewon says, shaking Junseo awake. All of you step out of the car, taking in the warm sun and the salty scent of the ocean. You, Jaewon, and Junseo grab your stuff from the trunk while the girls excitedly run towards the sea, kicking up sand behind them.

“Yo Minhyuk, did you have fun back there?” Jaewon teases. You punch his arm in rage while he chuckles at you.

“I fucking hate you, man.”

Junseo wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Chill out dude, we’re just trying to help you out. Remember, you would have bailed on us if I didn’t shove you towards Haewon.” He slaps your back before heading in the direction of the girls.

“He’s right. You're basically a mess without us,” Jaewon says, snickering to himself. A feeling of determination suddenly fills you up. You were dead set on having a good time with Haewon and, if things went well, you would confess your feelings to her by the end of the night. With a huff, you march through the sand, following behind your friends.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been to the beach,” Haewon remarks. “Thanks for inviting me, Minhyuk.” She turns to you, flashing a bright smile.

At that moment, all your confidence immediately leaves your body. “Y-yeah, n-no problem, hehe…” you stutter awkwardly. To make things worse, you catch Haewon covering her mouth in an attempt to hide her laughter.

Jaewon places a large picnic blanket on the sand while you set up the umbrella. Junseo sets down a bag of snacks and a cooler full of drinks, completing the preparations.

“Thank you boyssss,” Yoona says. “Alright, let’s hurry up and get in the water!”

The three of you can’t help but stare in awe as the girls start stripping, revealing their bikini clad bodies underneath. While Lily and Yoona had nice bodies, all of your focus was on Haewon. Her bright yellow bikini top revealed a generous amount of cleavage, while her matching bottoms left practically nothing to the imagination. You felt yourself drool as you imagined getting to explore her smooth curves with your hands.

“Hey perverts, are you gonna join us or not?” Yoona yells, snapping the three of you back to your senses. Jaewon and Junseo quickly discard their shirts before running into the ocean, joining Lily and Yoona. You start to do the same before noticing Haewon, who was sitting underneath the shade of the umbrella.

“Aren’t you gonna go in the water?” you ask her.

“I want to, but I completely forgot my sunscreen at home like an idiot,’ she says, sighing disappointedly. “I’d rather not risk getting sunburnt, y’know?”

You rummage through your bag and pull out a small bottle of sunscreen. “Here, you can use some of mine.”

She flashes you a bright smile as she takes the bottle from your hand. “Thank you, Minhyuk! You’re a lifesaver!”

“”Y-yeah, no problem.” Your cock begins to stir in your swimming trunks as you watch her rub the white cream into her smooth skin, your mind filling with sinful thoughts. Then, the unthinkable happens.

“Hey Minhyuk, do you think you could put some sunscreen on my back?” Words you’ve only ever heard in the beginnings of cheap porn films have now come out of Haewon’s mouth. You try to keep a calm expression as she hands you the bottle of sunscreen.

“Y-y-yeah, I c-can do that,” you stutter, trying and failing to maintain your composure. Thankfully, Haewon doesn’t notice as she lies on her stomach, giving you the perfect chance to ogle her cute ass, barely covered by her bikini bottoms. With trembling hands, you squirt some sunscreen on your fingers and begin gently massaging into her back.

“Mmmmm, you have such strong hands,” she says, moaning from your touch. You felt your heart pound in your chest with excitement as your hands caressed her lower back. Her skin was as smooth as you had imagined, your fingers easily gliding over her curves. This intimate situation felt like a dream come true that you never wanted to wake up from.

“Oh Minhyuk, that feels so good.” You felt your ears burn bright red as your cock stood at full attention. Everything else faded away as you focused on giving Haewon the best massage you could muster. The sunscreen acted as lube as you gently pushed your digits into her back, eliciting more moans. It became a game to you as you figured out which spots she liked most. Your breathing became heavy with arousal as the chorus of Haewon’s moans filled your ears.

Suddenly, Haewon sits up and grabs your wrists, glaring at you. You gulp, worried that you may have taken things too far. Without a word, she pulls you up and drags you away from the picnic blanket.

“U-uh, Haewon? Where are we going?”

She ignores you as she drags you behind a large boulder, away from everyone else. Her demeanor suddenly turns timid as a pink blush appears on her cheeks and her shaky eyes are unable to meet yours.

“Haewon? What’s wrong?” you ask, becoming increasingly bewildered by her behavior. Despite the circumstances, you couldn’t help but find her cute as she nervously twiddled with her fingers, her impressive cleavage on full display.

“U-um, I’m sorry if this is weird, but that massage got me all h-hot and…” Her words trailed off as the pink on her cheeks evolved into tomato red. You couldn’t believe her words at first. Did Haewon want you to…? Without hesitation, you pulled her closer and smashed your lips against hers. Your gamble pays off as she wraps her arms around your neck, moaning into your mouth. With newfound confidence, your hands explore more of her body, tracing her every curve. Your right hand cups her plump ass cheek while your other hand gently squeezes her breast, giving you the perfect chance to shove your tongue inside of her mouth as she opens it to moan. The sweet taste of strawberry lip gloss covers your taste buds as your tongues squirm in an erotic dance.

You eventually break the kiss as the need for oxygen manages to trump your carnal desires. Haewon stares deep into your eyes as she catches her breath, her hand snaking down your torso before stopping on your erect bulge. A low groan escapes your lips from the contact, sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

“C-can I touch your cock?” she asks, her voice trembling. You always saw Haewon as an outgoing bundle of energy, so seeing her this timid and horny made you go feral. With a nod, you lower your swimming trunks, revealing your rock hard cock to her in all its glory. Haewon gasps as she kneels in front of you, inspecting your full length with wide eyes. The sight of her innocent face next to your cock would be forever etched into your mind.

“Oh my god, you’re so big, Minhyuk,” she whispers in awe, gently wrapping her fingers around your member. Her hands felt like Heaven against your cock as they clumsily stroked it. “U-um, I’ve never done this before. Can you help me?”

“Y-yeah, sure. Uh, why don’t you try kissing it first?” you suggest. Haewon obediently complies as she places gentle kisses on your shaft, staining it with her lip gloss. Each kiss sends a shockwave of dopamine throughout your entire body.

“Is that okay?” Haewon’s large eyes look up at you, searching for approval.

A smile grows on your face as you pat her head. “Yes, that’s great, Haewon. You should try sucking it now.”

Haewon giggles excitedly before taking the tip of your cock into her mouth, running her tongue against your slit. A moan escapes your mouth as your hands instinctively reach for the back of her head, encouraging her to take in more of you. You would’ve never guessed that she was inexperienced with how easily your cock slides down her throat. The sensation was unlike anything you had ever felt before - pure ecstasy.

“F-fuck, Haewon. You’re so g-good, holy shit..”

Lust takes control of your body, your fingers interlocking with her hair as you roughly fuck her face. Haewon’s eyes well up with tears, but she makes no move to pull away, happily accepting your whole length. Saliva dripped from her mouth, the dirty image only fueling your arousal. Without warning, you shot your load down Haewon’s throat, the heavenly feeling of her mouth becoming too much for you to handle. After what feels like an eternity of cumming, you release her from your grasp. Haewon collapses backwards onto the sand, drool and cum staining her perfect face.

“S-Shit, are you okay?!” you ask, worried you may have been too rough on her.

Haewon props herself up and smiles at you. “Th-that was… i-incredible…” she stammered, catching her breath. “C-can you put it inside me? P-please?”

Her words reinvigorate you causing your cock to become hard once again. You quickly pull Haewon to her feet and untie her top, tossing it aside to reveal her ample breasts. Your mouth latches onto her tits while you shove your free hand inside of her bottoms, rubbing her moist slit.

“Oh fuck! That feels so good, Minhyuk…” Haewon whimpers as she plays with your hair. Any ounce of common sense left in your mind was thrown out the window as your only goal right now was to pleasure the girl of your dreams in every way possible. Your heart chugged like the engine of a steam train as you worshiped Haewon’s body with every flick of your tongue and every swipe of your finger against her heat. Eventually, you detach your mouth from her breasts, staring into her eyes while you finger her pussy.

You lean into her ear and whisper, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. I-I like you, Haewon.” You curl your fingers inside of her, coercing a high-pitched moan out of her as her body is reduced to putty in your hands.

“I-I l-like you too, Min- Ah, fuck! P-please fuck me!” she exclaims. Haewon holds onto your shoulders for balance, nibbling on your neck to muffle her erotic noises. Her confession only increased your skyhigh libido, ripping her bottoms away and lining up your cock with her dripping pussy. Slowly, you thrust forward, impaling her with your erection.

“H-holy shit…” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.

“A-are you okay, Haewon?” you asked, pausing your motions to check up on her.

“Y-yes, k-keep going please. Fuck, y-you’re so big…” Haewon looked up at you with pleading eyes. You could’ve sworn her irises turned into hearts for a second.

You continue thrusting forward, catching her lips in a kiss that was much gentler than the one before, eventually bottoming out inside of her. Gripping her supple thighs, you mentally thank Jaewon and Junseo for dragging you to the gym as you lift Haewon’s body with ease. You increase your pace, each thrust punctuated by Haewon’s cute whimpers and the occasional “fuck”, “ah”, and “yes”. Her ample breasts bounced in front of your eyes as Haewon threw her head back with pleasure. You still couldn’t believe that you were fucking your crush on the beach.

The pressure built up inside of you as you savored the feeling of her warm, tight cunt around your penis. You did your best to hold on for as long as possible, but the sensation was becoming overwhelming. “H-Haewon… I-I’m gonna… c-cum…” you groaned.

“F-fuck… C-cum in me, M-Minhyuk… I-I wanna feel you fill me up…” The vulgar words coming out of her mouth were enough to send you over the edge as you shot your second load deep inside of her womb. Haewon continued to bounce on your cock, her own orgasm taking over. Your legs eventually give out as both of your naked bodies collapse onto the sand, your cock never leaving the warmth of her pussy. Haewon laid on top of you, planting kisses on your neck and chin as you caught your breath.

“That… was fucking amazing, Minhyuk,” she giggled, tracing random patterns on your chest with her index finger. You wrapped your arms around her, the warm rays of sunshine beating down on the two of you.

Eventually, the two of you get up and put on your discarded bathing suits. “We should do this again sometime,” you quipped. Haewon laughs and grabs your face, planting a gentle peck on your lips.

“I would like that a lot.” Hand in hand, you return to your friend group, ready to enjoy the rest of your day at the beach with your new girlfriend.

#nmixx #oh haewon #nmixx haewon #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #nmixx x male reader #nmixx x male oc #nmixx haewon x male reader #nmixx haewon x male oc #smut #haewon smut #nmixx haewon smut

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2knightt · 11 months

Note

Hiiii! Can you do the outsiders gang with an s/o who models I feel like that would be interesting :)

↳but i’m into it, i’m into it.₊˚✧

➬ the gang x model!fem!reader

a/n;i love famous reader so much omfg. also, i love using chase atlantic lyrics for my titles. dont chase men, chase atlantic everyone.

Johnny Cade ;

believes that you are the most BEAUTIFUL person to walk the planet.

STRONGLY BELIEVES THAT.

probably thinks you’re too good for him.

PLEASE TELL HIM HE’S ENOUGH FOR YOU.

take him too your shoots and he will be blushing the whole time.

if you wear something that’s flattering to your body shape, he will explode right then and there.

“how do i look? should i fix my hair?”

“you look perfect.”

“you think?”

“…mhm.”

the gang seen you on a magazine cover and started freaking the fuck out.

“HOLY SHIT JOHNNY ISN’T THAT YOUR GIRLFRIEND?”

“WOAHHH!”

“jesus…does she have a sister?”

“guys please stop.”

cuts out your magazine covers/photo shoot pictures and keeps them in his jean jacket pocket.

not in a weird way, just in a way that when he’s sad and you aren’t around he can remind himself on how lucky he can really be.

Dallas Winston ;

oh my god he never shuts up about how he got the hottest model ever.

“yeah she’s pretty n all but, my girlfriends a model so.”

“that’s so cool that your chick is…like that! but mines a model, so, she’s just better.”

buys steals all your magazines/any photo shoot you do.

any guy thats talks about you in way dallas doesn’t like, gets knocked out.

“i’d hit that.”

“yeah?”

“yea—”

dead./j

no but he would pull all his strength in that punch.

the gang thought he kidnapped you because no way in hell a pretty girl like you would go after dallas winston.

“y/n, blink twice if you’re kidnapped.”

“raise your hand if you need help, dude.”

“guys, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

you’re legit, all he thinks about.

he’s so whipped for a model girlfriend, if you asked him to jump he’d ask how high.

genuinely believes you’re an angel, will NOT tell you that to your face though.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

he gets so nervous around you omfg.

his palms be sweating n shit, stuttering and everything.

“he-hey y/n.”

“oh, hey pony!”

uses his favourite photo shoot of yours as a book mark. i can feel it in me bones.

he giggles and kicks his feet when he looks at that bookmark btw

draws you?? i feel like that’s his favourite pass time.

IF HE HAS TO DESCRIBE A STORY IN ENGLISH HE WRITES ABOUT HOW HE MET YOU OMFG AND THE WAY HE’D DESCRIBE YOU IN THE ESSAY??/?!:;&

he’d be so sweet with his words when he talks about you. i cant i love him so much

the gang is lowkey jealous that the youngest one out of all of them pulled a model.

“hey, don’t you model?”

“yeah!”

“what.”

“how did ponyboy get a date with you?”

“…are you guys serious? am i that ugly to you guys?”

Sodapop Curtis ;

POWER COUPLE OH MY GOD I CAN’T.

you guys walking in the street together probably makes people pass out.

literally nobody was shocked that you guys started dating.

the prettiest girl for the prettiest boy, it was bound to happen, c’mon.

he probably got into modeling because of you.

OH MY GOD IMAGINE DOING A PHOTO SHOOT WITH HIM???

he asks for his favourite picture of you two from that shoot to be printed out larger for him so he can hang it in his room.

like dallas, he will punch a guy for you.

“she’s hot.”

“she has a boyfriend.”

“so?”

call 911 cause that guys gonna need it in a minute!

showed steve a picture of you before he introduced you to the gang.

“oh my god soda. why are you dating a literal model?”

“why not?”

“but what else did i expect, you get girls daily.”

Darry Curtis ;

honestly, he couldn’t care less about what you do for work.

if it brings in money, it brings in money.

but the gang sure as hell does!

“YO ISN’T THAT Y/N L/N?!”

“THE MODEL?”

“yeah? how do you guys know her?”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW HER?”

“she’s my girlfriend, soda. that’s why i brought her here.”

“WHAT??”

i’d be lying if i said darry didn’t carry around a head shot of you in his wallet.

he doesn’t brag, but when the chance to talk about you comes, he takes the chance.

“good for her. huh? oh—my girlfriend models. pretty popular.”

when he sees a magazine with you in it for sale, darry snatches it so fast.

compliments you after he seen it.

“i like your most recent shoot, the makeup suits you.”

“you think, darry?”

Steve Randle ;

rocked the whole world when you guys started dating.

DOESN’T SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT YOU.

“that’s so tuff soda, but y/n actually said—”

“nobody cares steve.”

“shut up and let me tell you what MY GIRLFRIEND said.”

STEVE HAS A PICTURE OF YOU TAPPED ON THE INSIDE OF THE TOP OF HIS TOOL BOX.

takes you on dates 24/7 just to show you off.

sometimes he lets go of your hand to see if anyone would flirt with you so he can punch them.

gang thought he held you hostage when you started dating ngl.

“you can do so much better, y/n.”

“dallas, shut the fuck up.”

“i’m just sayin’.”

“i will knock you out.”

Two-bit Matthews ;

HE’S SO WHIPPED FOR YOU IT’S DISGUSTING.

you have him giggling n shit.

his room is filled to the brim with photos of you.

not in a weird way, he just thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous.

tells you cheesy pickup lines, all the time.

“are you from Tennessee? cause you’re the only TEN I SEE! get it?”

would start a fan club for you if you asked nice enough.

introducing you to the gang was earth shattering for them.

“how??”

“what do you mean, ‘how?’”

“how did you pull her?”

“I PULLED HER WITH MY GOOD LOOKS AND CHARM, STEVE.”

“you’re so funny, two-bit.”

“like you falling flat on your fucking face yesterday?”

“YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T TALK ABOUT THAT.”

may 24th, 2023. 11:30PM.

tag-list ;

@diorgirl444, @typereader 🧍‍♂️

#2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #dallas x reader #johnny cade x reader #johnny x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #steve randle x reader #two bit matthews x reader #two-bit x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #darry curtis x reader

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ghost-proofbaby · 10 months

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR NINETEEN

in which everything changes.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut (p in v), almost shower sex, talk of male masturbation, oral (f receiving), upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 7.7k+

→ a/n: big shout out to @myosotisa for beta-reading this chapter so that for once, it's not unedited, and it's not just between me and god.

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

19:00 ─────────────ㅇ── 24:00

DINGUS: so either these two are getting along REALLY well or they truly still hate each other’s guts

NANCE: Why do you say that?

DINGUS: when i called to make sure they weren’t dead, it sounded like they were arguing over the line.

BIRDIE: woah woah woah, hold on. dingus. are you telling me you just SPIED on the lovebirds? or did this ‘fight’ happen during your conversation?

DINGUS: it wasn’t spying! eddie answered and rushed off the line, but it sounded like he forgot to hang up. i was just… curious.

NANCE: No, you were SPYING on them.

ARGYLE 😎: what did they say, dude?

BIRDIE: yeah let’s drop the morality bullshit – what’d you hear, my lovely oblivious spy?

DINGUS: @BIRDIE NOT A SPY.

DINGUS: but it just sounded like eddie asking her if she was, and i quote, “fucking kidding him”. He sounded weird when he was talking to me, too.

BIRDIE: the most romantic words to ever be spoken. truly.

NANCE: Was that all you heard?

DINGUS: yeah, i hung up after that. why?

ARGYLE 😎: should’ve stayed on the line.

BIRDIE: what he said.

JOHNNY BOY: Do you people have no morals?

HOUR NINETEEN – 10:00 AM

It becomes glaringly obvious to you that your comment had been a little too spot on after several minutes of waiting for Eddie to return.

You hadn’t expected him to really leave you high and dry after that, to just go and take care of himself rather than include you in that process. Honestly, you thought the two of you were finally past hiding behind closed doors. But clearly, you had been wrong. Very, very wrong. And now, the consequences of your own actions were mocking you; there was an insistent, uncomfortable, unignorable burn in the pit of your stomach, and every shift of your thighs that had your underwear grazing your clit had you desperate, nearly mewling and arching your back. The longer you laid on that couch and realized what Eddie was currently doing, the more hot and bothered you grew.

Fuck him. You’re about ten seconds away from taking care of your own problem right here, right now, on this god forsaken couch.

Your ears perk involuntarily for any and all noises that may come from the hallway, but five minutes of silence tells you that Eddie had learned his lesson. He wasn’t going to be loud again.

Fuck him.

At least if he was falling apart by his own hand, he should have the decency to let you hear such, obviously. If he was going to finish what the two of you started alone with just him and his hand and the polished porcelain of his bathroom, you would have at least appreciated something to get you going, to urge your imagination to roam free through a conglomeration of both fantasies and memories. But, no – the man was so silent, you were beginning to fear he might be dead.

Maybe he was dead. Death by blue balls. Good. Fuck him.

Your thighs squeeze together once more of their own free will, and you throw your head back violently to groan at the persistent throbbing. You couldn’t even be angry at him, not in a genuine sense, because you had insisted on talking rather than continuing whatever Deftones had started. What a dumb, idiotic, catastrophic decision. What a painful hill to die on. What a shit move on your part.

It doesn’t take long before you make the choice to stop laying there, wallowing in your misery. If you weren’t going to take care of your problem, and if you were regretting your choices so desperately, you were an adult. He was down the hall, he was here for now, and there was nothing stopping you from just marching up to the door. This wasn’t anything like the beginning hours – the man had seen you bare before him far too many times for you to be shy. He had just been dry humping you like some teenager on his couch.

No, you didn’t need to have shame right now. At least, not for these last five hours.

You get up quick enough to make yourself dizzy, swinging your legs and making the soles of your feet connect with the living room floor with resounding slaps. A bit aggressive, and it might startle whoever had the displeasure of living below Eddie, but you don’t care. You have a one track mind, and you force your body into action before you can chicken out.

You have him. At some wild capacity, the man behind the bathroom door is yours. Whether it be temporary, whether it had started before this night or would last beyond this experience, it was still a matter of fact. You have him – God, you have him so tightly that you don’t even doubt you’re the one on his mind right now as he does what you’re sure he’s doing behind this door – and it was time to accept that he has you.

He has had you for a while, you realize a few steps away from the bathroom. The moment he had you laughing at his side in some smokey bar all those moons ago, he had first caught you in his web. You hate that it took this long, that it took this moment that should be laced with embarrassment, to let it all settle into acceptance. Like rubble of a destroyed building, the dust is clearing and all you can see is him. Him, with his stupid fucking dimples. Him, with his wide shoulders. Him, with all his twisted words and confusing actions. He’s had you in his grasp – it’s the only way anyone would have been able to get under your skin like he has this past year.

“Eddie?” you call out as you rap your knuckles on that wooden door, a few too many times for good measure. Your ears strain now that you’re closer, thinking you might catch subtle sounds out of him. Heavy breaths, slick skin, mute whimpers. Anything.

You get nothing for a solid ten seconds.

And then, you hear him clearing his throat, obnoxiously so, before answering, “Y-Yeah?”

Unsure. He’s stuttering, and the footing of his words is unstable. You were fucking right.

“Are you…” you start, pinching your eyes shut, shooing away that internal wave of heat as your mind runs wild and imagines him behind the door. The way he’d be naked, the way his fist would curl around the base of his cock, the way his tip has never failed to be the exact same shade of pink as his lips- “Are you still alive in there?”

Because I’m certainly not out here.

“Oh, me?” he chuckles nervously, “Yeah, I-I’m good. Sorry, just got distracted!”

By what? you nearly call in response, your dick in your hands?

You don’t say it outloud. You have some restraint.

“That’s fine…” you trail off, unsure of what exactly you should say all while biting your tongue.

Your mind is still reeling for a possible ending for that thought when Eddie calls out, “I’m gonna take a shower, ‘s all. You cool with that?”

No. No, I’m not fucking cool with that.

“Oh!” you squeak out instead, “Yeah, yeah. That’s… that’s fine. Sorry, I’ll just…”

You trail off again as you begin to take a few steps back from the door, making your way back to the living room painstakingly slowly. You’ve hardly moved an inch when you hear the shower turn on inside the bathroom, stuttering a few times as the water begins its flow, static rising from the way it splatters into the tub.

And then it turns off. Mere seconds later, as quickly as the flow of water had begun, the creaking in the pipes cease. You take another step back until your back bumps into the wall of the hallway, across and veered away from the bathroom door – the throbbing between your thighs still irritating and your confusion even more palpable.

Wasn’t he going to take a shower? Did he just turn it on to get you to walk away? Were you hallucinating just how quickly the seconds were passin-

The bathroom door is suddenly thrown open with Eddie in the middle of calling out your name, those pajama pants hanging dangerously low on his hips. The moment his eyes land on your, his beckoning for you dies in his throat before he has to clear it. “Oh. Uh, hey.”

Why were you both being so fucking awkward?

“Hi,” you breathe out, pressing further into the wall. You felt like a child being caught doing wrong, as if he hadn’t been aware of your proximity to the door just moments before.

Maybe he was going to find it creepy that you had lingered for so long, and were still so close. You don’t know – you can’t think clearly as you look at the bare skin of his chest and try to decipher whether the moisture gathered there is sweat or condensation from the steam of the shower.

“Sorry, I just-” he cuts himself off this time before a hand reaches up to his hair, now down and unfurled around his shoulders. His palm presses back his bangs and you can see the moment that all the tension of awkwardness finally snaps, “Oh, fuck this. Do you want to shower with me?”

Once it snaps for him, you feel your own clinging to it release. It slips from between your fingers slowly, and you come to the realization that there’s no heat emitting from the bathroom behind him – that moisture wasn’t from steam, he didn’t even have the water on long enough for it to get that hot. You should have realized that immediately, but your mind was working slowly through the fog.

“You don’t have to,” you hadn’t answered him fast enough, and you’re watching him backpedal right before your eyes.

A quick shake of your head and the smile that splits your lips stops all of his backwards movements, makes his head tilt to the side and a smirk graces his features when you finally reply, “I thought you’d never ask.”

He shifts to the side of the doorway naturally, leaving just enough room for you to brush past him and let your shoulder knock slightly against his chest once you push off the wall eagerly.

There’s still a puddle of water at the base of the tub, circling the drain as Eddie closes the door behind your entrance. It’s a bit redundant considering you’re the only two here, but you don’t say a word. You just let your eyes trace over the droplets of water racing down his shower curtain, properly focus in on his toothbrush on the sink and the tube of toothpaste beside it curled up over half the length.

It hits you all at once, how this game of tension is so ridiculous. “We’re so stupid.”

Eddie is shocked by your snort, “Excuse me?”

“We’re stupid,” you repeat yourself, “Why are we acting like middle schoolers who just held hands? You’ve seen me naked, for fucks sake. We’ve-” you cut off and turn to him abruptly, waving your hands wildly in the space between you two, “We’ve already crossed this line a million times, Eddie. And we just… it’s like, we keep putting one foot on the other side of it, dip our toes into it, and then take it back when it’s all said and done.”

A boring dance. The two of you were taking part in the most boring dance of tension the world had ever seen, and only the four walls of Eddie’s apartment had the pleasure of being audience to it.

You expect his laughter to come out in a bark, but it’s subtle instead, face relaxing in realization at what you mean, “Jesus. I- I mean, you’re right. But does that make us stupid? I think it’s kinda cute, personally.”

“Cute?” you lurch forward ever so slightly, grinning with your teeth. Eddie’s eyes squint up a bit from how widely he grins in return at your amusement, “What about this is cute?”

“The way you keep getting so nervous around me,” Eddie shrugs, killing off the distance between you as he moves in front of you. You straighten up quickly, and he’s fast to tuck the loose strands of your hair behind your ear, “The way I keep getting so nervous around you.”

“That’s not cute, that’s just… stupid.”

“Same thing.”

“It definitely isn’t.”

You’re close enough to kiss him. And you realize easily that this may be your favorite place in the world, toe-to-toe with him and nearly brushing noses, feeling each breath like a huff of wind on the highs of your cheekbones.

“Agree to disagree,” he whispers before his lips duck down to yours. The hand that had tucked away your strands of hair had never left your face, you realize, palm now cupping your cheek as he tugs you closer to him.

Warmth spreads across your chest, brings spring to all the vines you’ve been catering to for a year now. Being able to step back and call this for what it was, ridiculous, makes it all a bit easier to bear.

It’s just his lips against yours, the shower not even running yet, the gasps that emit from both of you serving as a white noise instead.

“Is this,” he breaks away from you, only pulling back his lips and leaving his forehead resting against yours with his hand still curled on your cheek, “still stupid?”

“Even more so,” you nod and he moves his head with yours, almost making you laugh more, “So, so stupid.”

More kisses are exchanged, wandering hands trying to find new curves on the other’s body, before Eddie goes through the motions of turning his shower back on. You notice that from the looks of it, he does turn it on as hot as it can get. It occurs to you that these are small details you’d like to know – how hot he prefers his showers, whether he prefers to take them in the morning or at night, what scent of body wash he swears by – and that you only had so much time to learn the answer to not even half of your curiosities.

Time. Time was not on your side.

“You know,” you drawl as Eddie finally kicks off his pants, you soon following his lead as if this was nothing. Because it wasn’t. The two of you had been naked before each other. You weren’t two middle schoolers who had just shared a first kiss or held hands – you were two adults who had had sex, who had admitted to being attracted to each other if nothing more, “You never did say what you’re actually doing with the money.”

“Again with that conversation?” Eddie asks, pausing with his thumbs hooked in the band of his boxers.

“Again,” you affirm, tossing your shirt into the same corner that his pants had been discarded, “Can you blame me for being curious? Aren’t you curious what I’m doing with my money?”

He thinks for a second as you strip off your underwear, leaving you completely naked first. “I mean, I sort of am.”

“College,” you supply easily. You don’t even wait for him to properly ask. He purses his lips and you catch the way his eyes sweep over your nude body quickly before he yanks off his last article of clothing, “College, and then all my debt. Then maybe I can start saving like a real adult. Move to some fancy city once I graduate. Make a…” you pause and make a conscious effort to not let your eyes wander as his had, “Make a real life for myself, I guess.”

“You sound so excited.”

He’s being sarcastic, you know it, but it begs the question – were you excited about the prospective? All you had ever known was school. Your entire personality has been built thus far on being a student.

So what comes next? Settling into some boring nine to five job that hardly satisfies the dreams that were born of your major? Getting underpaid, getting bored with monotony but telling yourself you were satisfied?

And that doesn’t even scratch the surface of the bigger questions of the future. You haven’t even spared a thought to kids, to getting married, to life past the next two years.

“I mean… I am,” you shrug and step into the shower first, Eddie following close behind you and listening intently, “It’ll be nice to finally have the damn piece of paper to say ‘hey! I did it!’”

“But?” he presses, scooting the two of you around in the small space so that he was standing directly beneath the spray of water. His curls flatten against his head immediately.

“No buts,” you insist. As if you’re trying to convince yourself more of it than him.

“So that’s all? You just want to get out of here?” he isn’t looking at you as he reaches for a bottle of shampoo, blinking water out of his eyes.

This conversation is going surprisingly well.

“Not here specifically,” you clarify. Your chest aches at the thought of just leaving behind all the friends you’d made, the life you had started in this city. The thought of already beginning to preemptively tear it down was enough to dampen your mood worse than the steam of the shower was doing to your hair, “I don’t know. Who cares about the future? What are you doing with your money?”

He’s about to squirt some of the shampoo into the palm of his hand when you suddenly snatch it from him, holding up a finger and twirling it in a demanding manner. He’s shocked, but he turns for you regardless, even bending his knees as he gets the message.

He doesn’t question the fact that you’re about to wash his hair. No protests towards something so domestic between previously sworn enemies.

“I wasn’t lying earlier,” he starts just as you have lathered up your palms and set aside the shampoo on the shower ledge, fingertips digging right into his scalp. Even with the slight bend in his posture, your arms have to stretch to reach the crown of his head, “A new bike or guitar would be nice but– Oh,” a particular scratch of your nails has him faltering in his words, throwing his head back a bit more and humming. The throb, the ache, the burn returns. “Oh, that’s nice.”

“Keep talking, pretty boy,” you murmur as he hums even louder.

“Well, I… It’s not a lot of money, y’know? I mean, it is. But it also isn’t. Am I making any sense? Fuck, that feels good,” he stumbles across his point as your fingers continue small circles, and you already know without looking that his eyes have fluttered shut.

The pit of your stomach can only rally, twisting and tumbling at his satisfaction. Something so domestic and something you had started with sweet intentions was quickly derailing, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

You have him. But you don’t have him. The same type of conundrum he faces with the amount of money promised to the both of you if you were to survive these hours.

“You’re making sense,” you promise with a shy grin you know he can’t see, “Like, I know the money won’t pay off all my debts or college tuition, but it’s a good start. Anyways, as you were saying?”

Both of you struggle to focus as he continues on, melting even further into your touch, “I dunno. Maybe if I have anything leftover, I’ll send it to my uncle.”

His voice is strained as he’s occupied with the feeling of your hands against his scalp, and you know it’s a throwaway sentence, but the small detail of his life you’ve been awarded doesn’t go unnoticed.

Uncle? Why uncle?

“You in debt to your uncle over a bad night of gambling or somethin’?” you try to joke as you finally release your fingertips from his scalp. Your palms come down on his shoulders as you spin him slowly, encouraging him to keep his head tipped back as he lets the water wash away the suds produced.

Surprisingly, his shampoo doesn’t smell like boy. It’s akin to green apples, maybe something smoother beneath it all like coconut. Something sweet and something innocent.

Maybe that’s what has him being so open to you as he explains, “I’ll always be in debt to him, but not for gambling. He raised me. My folks… weren’t the best. I owe everything to that man.”

There are no good words to respond with. You suddenly feel selfish for pushing him to admit it, and for making that joke to begin with.

But he only cracks open his eyes as the suds are mostly gone, looking at you through squinty eyes as he grins, “Guess I’m the boner killer now, huh?”

You snort again (fuck, had he always been this funny?) and shake your head, finally glimpsing below his hips.

Ironic of him to say that he was a boner killer when there he was, harder than ever for you, tip pink and glistening in a taunt towards you.

You were both going to Hell. You were standing in his shower, talking about his uncle, both far too horny for the topic of conversation.

“Modern day Bonnie and Clyde, but make it horny,” you manage to get out, still staring at him and resisting the urge to reach out and start something you didn’t know how to finish, “Does talking about money always get you this hard?”

“Bonnie and Clyde were robbers, not killers,” he corrects you, “And why, yes. How did you know? Do you plan to use this lethal information against me again later?”

A cavern in your chest screams out, when is later? Later within the next four hours, or later within the next year? Will you ever even give me a chance to use this against you again?

You laugh along with his joke instead.

“Absolutely. Also, who the fuck knows that much about Bonnie and Clyde?”

You make him turn around again, and repeat a similar process with the conditioner. The entire time, you try to not think about the awareness that the same burn in your own gut is alight in him.

He shrugs a little, bends a little more to encourage your fingertips back to his scalp. It doesn’t work — you’re focusing the conditioner on the drier ends of his curls. “I do.”

“Well, that’s just weird.”

You work in silence as you finish threading the conditioner through and detangling his hair with just your fingers. You don’t immediately have him rinse it out, and he takes the opportunity to reward you with the same care, the same domesticity. And just as he hadn’t questioned you, you don’t protest when he manhandles you to spin and face your back to him. You let him indulge you in the same massaging motions that you had just pampered him with, let suds of that sweetness surround you as your eyes shut delicately and you lean your head back into his deliberate touches.

Same care, same domesticity, same sensuality. You never thought washing someone’s hair could be something so intimate until his knuckles are between your locks and your back is brushing up against his chest due to limited space.

“It’s not about the money,” he randomly announces to you once the shampoo has been rinsed out and the conditioner takes its place. “I mean, I figured you knew that, but… still thought I’d say.”

“Figured as much.”

“I also wasn’t pissing,” he continues to overshare, “I know you figured as much there too.”

Biting your bottom lip to hold back a grin, you keep the rest of your face relaxed as you nonchalantly ask, “No? What distracted you, then?”

You can feel every deep breath he takes. The expansion of his chest only presses the two of you closer. Soon, you should both rinse out the conditioner. You should stop wasting water. The two of you should get out of this damn confining space and sleep, do something useful, make the most of the final four hours.

Instead, you’re letting yourself get lost in billows of steam, and teasing him. And maybe that’s something useful for you.

“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”

You can hear his grin. God, you can hear his grin and those stupid dimples making an appearance without needing to see his face.

“Say what?” you ploy faux innocence. His fingers are still in your hair. He has no reason to continue to comb them through, but they remain there, grazing your scalp and brushing the back of your neck.

His chin meets your shoulder suddenly, his breath on your ear. “What did you call this earlier, sweetheart? I believe you called it… stupid.”

Right. Stupid.

Stupid was the ache that resided inside you for him. Stupid was the way your thighs shook from how hard they pressed together from each soft caress of his breath on the shell of your ear. Stupid was the urge to reach your arm around your back and grab onto him, any part of him, and try to pull him as closely as humanly possible — and then some.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You’re a bad liar. And he loves it.

“Right,” he draws out the single syllable, hands leaving your hair, drifting at sea as they find comfort on your biceps, touch feather light, “You have no idea what I was doing in here. You weren’t staying by the door to see if you could hear me, trying to get a free show.”

So you had been right in calling the two of you stupid. Neither of you had been very conspicuous.

“A free show to what?” you keep up the act of innocence and swallow down the delighted hun when his hands move down your arms. You’re fully flush to his chest now, almost to the point of leaning your weight back against him.

“To me touching myself to you,” bold, crass words leave his lips, “To me fucking my fist to the thought of you. Squeezing my fist around my cock, trying to make it feel like that sweet pussy.”

Your knees nearly buckle. You try to play it cool, “Oh? Is that what you were doing?”

His playful chuckle is the final straw, and his hands now on your waist are the only thing keeping you upright.

“I was.”

“And were you successful?”

How you kept your tone so steady, so even, was lost on you.

“I wasn’t.”

One hand stays planted on your waist firmly, as if he knows he’s the only thing keeping you from collapsing in this heat between the two of you. The other dares to round to the front of your stomach, fingers splayed and fingertips almost tickling you as he lets them run down the center of your navel. He’s taking his time. Slowly, painfully, his hand travels. Down, down, down. Until his fingertips are grazing right over that fire he built inside you, mere inches from where you need him to touch you most. He has you right where he wants you, and he knows it.

And so he stops. Inches, maybe less, from where your cunt is throbbing for him.

“Didn’t you say you were good with your fingers?” you’re trying to keep up a cool facade, but it’s becoming useless at this point. Your voice comes out a whine, and your hips subtly buck against empty air to try to encourage his touch lower.

“I did,” he hums directly into your ear. The hand on your waist becomes an arm fully wrapped around your front, and the press of your back to his chest becomes far more intentional. All of it to hold you in place as he moves his hand right over where you want him. He avoids your body’s pleas, and jumps straight to teasing his fingertips over the tops of your thighs. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

It’s almost funny to remember how flustered he was when he’d first made the comment, how quick he had been to defend it against being something dirtier, only to now be using it against you in anything but an innocent context.

“Please,” the beg falls from your lip as you give up on the game.

It’s a combination of all his gentle touches, the feeling of his curls between your knuckles, the steam that is smothering the two of you without notice, the way you can still feel every damn breath of his. Both through his mouth now softly kissing at the lobe of your ear, and his chest that only presses more tightly to you. That tightening arm around your waist, and the subtle change of position of his knee.

You aren’t expecting it, and your feet slide apart quickly, nearly dropping onto his sweetly placed leg between yours.

“Please what, sweetheart?”

You can’t even recall the feeling of hatred you used to get at the nickname. Now, in its place, is something buzzing, something buttery, something contradictory. You’re dizzy with satisfaction from the way he murmurs it directly into your ear.

“Please touch me,” you gasp when his knee brushes upwards, not quite reaching where you need him. You swear there’s a pulse now, a throbbing cry that would do just about anything to feel those hands on you, “Please, please.”

You’re losing focus as your thoughts start to fuzz at the edges, suddenly only able to manage the words please and his name.

And it isn’t lost on him. “Look at you. I haven’t even touched you yet, and you’re already going so dumb for me, aren’t you?”

Your stomach churns, everything in you tightens, and your pride isn’t above dropping yourself down properly onto his knee and grinding. You would if you could — his fucking arm won’t let you.

When you glance down, you realize just how tight his grip is. You can trace each vein along his forearm, catch the white of his knuckles as they curl against you.

He’s holding onto you for dear life, and yet his death grip doesn’t so much as hurt. You only feel safe, you only feel wanted.

“Please just touch me, Eddie,” you whimper out, not caring about how desperate you sound anymore. You have no shame, no pride, no careful calculations left for the man behind you.

His hands stop their dance across the apex of your thighs. One moment, you can barely feel his fingertips running over their softness, and the next, it vanishes completely.

You open your mouth to protest, but all that comes out is a gasp as his fingers are suddenly on your cunt, spreading you apart at a leisurely pace. You move to grab onto his forearm for leverage but he suddenly tsks and stops all of his movements.

“You can either have me touch you, or you touch me. But you can’t have both, sweetheart. Not right now.”

Through the haze, you’re unable to use your words to answer, instead cracking your eyes back open and trying to crane your neck to see Eddie properly. But he’s only chuckling into your ear again, arm around your waist tightening.

“C’mon, baby. Use your words. Which would you rather have?” he taunts, tilting his chin down and letting his nose nuzzle against the peak of your shoulder, lips barely brushing the skin.

You would have expected to not even catch the subtle feeling of plushness on you right now between your ever-growing frustration and the water still raining down on both of you. But you do; your body is growing acutely aware of every single point of contact between the two of you as the minutes go on. Every inch of your skin is tuned into his touch and where it flows, where it leaves you, where it presses deeper.

You open your mouth to respond to him, but you can’t. You can’t explain it: there isn’t a tightness in your throat, a pain grasp on your chest, a fear that is swallowing the words whole. It’s the opposite. All of your taut strings have gone slack, waves of surrendering to him having overcome all of your deepest anxieties. In this moment, amongst the white noise of a shitty apartment shower, all that there exists is him. The time limit slips away, the bet is a thing of the past, and the road taken to bring you both here is completely forgotten.

His touch is able to remain light when he decides to turn you in his arm, the grip once around your waist now pressing into your lower back as you face him. You’re completely malleable for him to do as he wishes.

Facing him, you watch all of the amusement and cockiness melt away from his features. His smirk goes soft and his face falls in awe, mouth parted as he takes in that look in your eyes. He knows. He knows that in this moment, you are completely defenseless and utterly his.

You watch all the air leave his lungs, and feel the consequential breath that releases hit the bridge of your nose due to the proximity. “You really are cock drunk for me right now, aren’t you? I haven’t even given it to you yet and you’re just… gone.”

If you weren’t completely under his spell at this moment, you would have burned with embarrassment down to the bone.

You just nod.

With this revelation, his grip on you completely transforms. It’s not just a matter of keeping you upright, but a matter of keeping you tethered to him. As if he’s afraid that the moment he lets go, he loses you.

If you could find the words, you’d assure him that he wouldn’t. You weren’t something so fleeting, so passing.

Without words, all you can do is show him. So you press up onto your tip-toes and kiss him. Hard, then soft. Fervently, then patiently. Achingly, and then assuredly. Every flash of contradiction between the two of you and all that has accumulated goes into the kiss as you let him find his breath again, solely by stealing yours.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs against your lips, before his nose rubs against the tip of yours as it begins a journey. Across your cheek, down your jaw, into the crook of your neck. You feel spouts of warm water trickle over his collarbones and against your own.

This time, you do have the words for him. Or rather, the word for him.

“You.”

There’s no other way to put it. You just want him.

He pulls back and stares directly into your eyes, his own brown ones swarming with varied emotions. You’re finally able to start deciphering some of them – lust, want, surprise – but not quite all of them yet.

Before you realize what’s happening, he’s sinking to his knees. Somehow, he’s twisted you so that your back meets the cool tile of the wall, careful in watching the way it supports you during the entirety of his descent.

He doesn’t say a word, his eyes doing all the talking necessary through wet lashes as he guides you to balance a foot on the edge of the tub and hook your knee onto his shoulder. Just as you realize what he’s doing, his mouth is on your hot cunt.

For all the talk and thoughts about just how good his fingers were, you seemed to have forgotten just how good his mouth was.

His tongue works away at your clit, tracing patterns before alternating to suck it sharply between his lips. He seems to have forgotten about his earlier threat, or maybe he’s just feeling merciful, as your hands instinctively reach down and wind into the roots of his wet hair. Curls matt in your grasp instantly. A harsh tug, and he’s moving his attention elsewhere, nose now nudging your clit as he circles around your entrance, pulling whines from deep within you at the teasing.

“Eddie,” you throw your head back hard enough that you’re sure that there will be an ache to feel once all is said and done, “Fuck. Right there.”

“I see someone’s found their words,” his voice is muffled and you can feel his smirk rather than see it.

It’s a damn pretty sight. Him, on his knees, wet curls plastering down his shoulders and back as his face is buried between your thighs.

You can trace over each indent of muscle across his skin through half-lidded eyes, memorize the way it looks dazzling with the moisture, watch as water pools where his fingers dig into your thighs to keep you balanced.

When his tongue finally slips inside of you, slow and stretching as the tip of his nose digs deeper into your clit, you swear you’re seeing stars. You were going to snarkily reply, but you don’t have the capacity to reply with anything other than chants of his name. Mixtures of praying to him and praying to God fall from your lips alongside curses. All muddled, all strings of whimpers and moans as he continues to bring you closer to your edge. When he finally resorts to bringing his hand back into the mix, sinking two fingers into your cunt with little warning as he returns to lazy work on your clit, you gasp out – your body lurches forward as your curl into him and your back leaves the now sticky, warm wall.

The arm that was wrapped around your lifted leg to help you balance is quick to throw over your hips, keeping half your body still pressed to the wall. “Careful, princess.”

Each word reverberates through you, both physically and somewhere deep in your mind, sending you even further reeling as your fingers grab onto him deeper and try to press him impossibly close.

Princess. Somewhere along crossing all these lines, you have ventured into new territory. A territory where the nicknames get under your skin in a brand new way, slipping into your subconscious for the better rather than arising any irritation.

Baby, princess, sweetheart.

You’ll take whatever you can get from him.

“Wouldn’t want you slipping and falling,” he murmurs as he pulls back, face now slick with you rather than the steam or water, “Can’t have you ruining that pretty face, getting blood all over my bathroom, now can we?”

He’s right. God, you fucking hate when he’s right. As much as every part of your body is screaming for him to take you right here against the shower wall, you know it’s not a good idea. And you’ve really, really succumbed to enough bad ideas in these last nineteen hours.

“Bed,” you manage to gasp out, quick to detangle your fingers from his hair and try to grab onto his shoulders without purchase due to the water still tumbling down, “Bed, now.”

He gets the message. Rises to his feet and lets your leg fall back down, shaking as he turns to cut the shower abruptly. Without asking, he’s the one to exit into the fierce cold of the apartment first, grabbing at the flesh of your hips and guiding you out along with him. He doesn’t even bother with towels – once he has you out of that potential death trap of a tub, his lips are on yours, nipping and passionate as you breathe him in. He’s the one that maneuvers the two of you out of the bathroom, you don’t even notice when he reaches behind himself to open the door, impressively never tripping as he walks backwards and keeps your lips on his.

It occurs to you that this is how you two work best. No overshadow of being honest with each other, no clouds of feelings getting in the way. And yet, somehow, it’s the most vulnerable you’ve managed to feel with him yet.

You don’t want it to only be this easy when both your clothes are off. You want it to be this easy in the early mornings that you wake him up for work, you want it this easy over late night take-out and horror movie marathons. You want more cigarettes at sunset with him, soft confessionals over a rising sun.

You can’t keep pretending that nothing has changed. You simply can’t. The fierce promise of his protection, the way his eyes stay trained on you even in the busiest of rooms. Nothing could ever erase the blooms left from him hooking his pinky with yours at the parking garage.

All of the night is flashing through your mind, and even in the trance he has you under, you’re seeing with perfect clarity.

It’s why just as the backs of your knees connect with his mattress, before he can throw you down and continue what was started in the shower, you’re pushing your palms against his wet chest and forcing him to look into your eyes.

“If we do this,” you shakily begin, watching his chest rise and fall in sync with yours. Once you say these words, you can’t take them back. You’re vividly aware of it before you continue to force your voice to come out the most steadily it has the entire night, “It changes everything.”

He blinks, eyes owlish. Once, twice. More of that emotion you finally can single out but never identify swirls like storm clouds in his vision. You wait for him to run, for him to take it all back. You wait for it all to be over – for him to deliver the final blow and leave you to collect the rubble and blood money so you can pretend this night never happened.

“Okay.”

Those aren’t the words of a fatal blow. You think they might send you reeling even worse, though.

“Okay?” you clarify. If your tongue wasn’t so heavy, you’d say more. Remind him of what exactly it means to change everything.

It seems he already knows as he parrots back, “Okay.”

Lips meet again, and this time, they’re charged with everything. With a promise of change and a promise that maybe there isn’t a ridiculous time limit here. There is no doomsday clock between the two of you. When the clock strikes 3 PM, neither of you will vanish into thin air.

You let him throw you back onto the bed. Your bare back meets the surprisingly soft sheets, and they erupt in the scent of Eddie. Cigarettes, a hint of weed, whatever cologne he seems to douse himself in. You can even pinpoint his shampoo amongst the fragrance now.

It’s no longer the smell of boy that you once ran from. His hand is behind your back, but not trapped. It’s there willingly and it is caressing every inch of you that he can find, tracing out any dimples in your back he can discover as he lets your legs curl up onto his hips, kisses dappling your neck, jaw, and lips alike.

Your vines stretch high and proud, and drink in his waves with every passing of his breath on your skin that raises goosebumps.

You want to live here forever. In the feel of him pausing right before his cock presses into you, in the way his face scrunches up and his mouth falls agape, the haze now spreading from your mind and across both of you. Nameless chants and pleads for what was already both in the palm of your hands before you even knew what to do with it. The roll of his hips and the way his wet skin sticks to your own. Your heels digging into him, bringing him in closer, closer, closer.

Every time, it has felt this way. Something beneath the surface that has you surrendering over yourself. He has hurt you, time and time again, and you’ve let your knives be just as sharp – but the wounds scab over now when it’s just the two of you like this.

You’re best like this for a reason. Because for once, neither of you are overthinking it. You are vulnerable and you are bare, not just physically but emotionally. Honesty isn’t a request; it is a given. You don’t just have him, you know him. Across oceans and across gardens, across midnight skies and across soft morning light.

You have him. You know him.

It’s enough.

Smokey bars. His protection. Slamming doors and the clicking of locks released. The night air surrounding you and the warmth of his back as you cling to him on a motorcycle that seems to be going faster than light in your memories. That parking garage, and that hook of his pinky – a way to get closer, but also a whisper of a promise.

He’s bled for you. He’s bled from you.

This changes everything.

When his hips movements become sloppy, when the knot in your stomach tightens one last time, when your nails dig into his back and leave their mark, you know it to be true.

Everything, everything, changes.

Eddie never really hated you, never really could, and you realize now that the feeling is mutual.

—

You hadn’t considered exactly what the aftermath would be when Eddie first dragged you out of the shower, but you surely never could have imagined the scene now playing out.

Him, on his back, content and humming a song you’re too tired to ask him about. His fingers are trailing mindlessly up and down your spine as you splay out across his chest. You both probably need another shower, but neither of you are willing to leave his bed for it.

It’s not you who remembers the photo. No, you’re tired, one foot already in the door of sleep as you curl yourself tighter into his side.

He doesn’t use your phone this time. You didn’t even realize his outdated flip phone had a camera on it. You’re not even sure if you dreamt the soft click that sounds like a camera as you nuzzle deeper into his chest.

“Everything,” he whispers, just as the edges of your consciousness begin to blacken, “Yeah, this changes everything.”

Your last thought is a curious one; will he send the photo he just took?

Would he dare to admit to everyone how everything has changed?

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#my writing #twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #hehe was right

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peachesofteal · 8 months

Text

Dead Disco / Chapter 7

Dead Disco masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 3.2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI. Brief suggestive content. Angst, anxiety, self loathing, relationship issues. Darling is her own tag/warning. Panic attack, eating related issues, fainting. Emotional hurt/comfort, fluff. Established throuple. It's better when they're here.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

Kyle grins in response, and then pulls you in for a hug. His face is full mirth, his cheer warming you from the inside, and you embrace him in return.

“’bout time they bring you out here. No reason to hide you away all this time.” Something nervous, a light giggle, slips out from between your lips, your eyes rolling in an exaggerated fashion. Johnny's hand flexes against the base of your spine.

“Gaz.” Simon sighs, and he barks out a laugh before turning back to you.

“Try not to let these two bore ya to death.” He whispers, before giving them both a nod and ducking down the hall. He makes absolutely no noise, feet silent against the floor, practically disappearing before your eyes, shadow here then gone, presence felt, and then void, all at once.

“He’s nice.” You look up at the two of them. Johnny chuckles, amusement scrawling across his lips and cheeks as he wraps his arm around your waist.

“Don’t let him fool ye.” He quips and you frown, confused.

“Gaz is… very, very good at his job. One of the best there is, I’d say.” Simon explains gently, and then your stomach sours, because you remember.

What they do. What their jobs are. Why you’re even here in the first place. You’ve never asked for in-depth detail or explanations, but you’ve heard enough, know enough, to know.

He turns the lock and pushes their door open, giving you a view into their room, a short hall that expands out to something that looks like a college dorm, except maybe a bit bigger. It’s got all the similarities though, cinderblocks and an old, tiled floor, singular window and a bit of an odd smell.

“So, this is your room?”

“Aye. We’ve got a big bed, mostly thanks to Si, and a little more space than everyone else on this floor but, this is it.” It’s sparse too, no pictures or personal items, nothing that looks like or resembles them except…

There’s a bulletin board, hanging on the wall above the bed. It’s empty, save for one thing, a photo that’s been stapled to the cork.

It’s of you, this photo, you under a white sheet, smiling at Simon, who’s behind the camera, with just the shadow of Johnny’s hand along your upper arm. It was taken last year, you can tell, because you recognize the style of your hair from that time, and you stand there for too long, staring at it, mouth partially hanging open, breath held in your lungs.

Nothing in this room that reflects them, or their home, or each other… nothing. Except for a photo of you.

“Darling?” Simon murmurs, and his chest presses against your back, thumb and forefinger stroking along the back of your neck. “You alright?”

“Y-yeah. I… I’m alright.”

“So, like… what is that you guys do?” The question lands to a silent reception, both of them exchanging looks in front of you, almost like you’re not even in the room. You feel awkward, and self-conscious, while they seem to have a silent debate with their eyes.

“We’re in multi-national special ops unit.” Johnny provides, and your eyebrows crease as you process. A what? A multi-national what? You laugh, until you realize their faces are deadly serious.

Wait. Are these guys in the fucking military?

“Special ops, like… the military special ops?”

“Kind of.”

Oh.

Fuck. Your cheeks feel hot, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the alcohol or the topic you’ve stumbled upon, but you swallow loudly as you process it.

You’re not exactly a huge fan of the military. Not like you really know anything about it, just that most of the wars your own country has been involved in for the last twenty years revolve around oil and imperialism, and all the dudes who serve are abusive and predatory. Assholes. Creeps.

Or at least, that’s what it’s like where you’re from.

“She didn’t like that.” Simon murmurs from behind the mask, and Johnny grimaces.

“Alright?” He hums and a small noise gets stuck in your throat, like you want to say yes, want to say no, like you’re not sure what you want. “We travel a lot, for work. So, we’re not always around… that’s where we’ve been the last few weeks. Working.” The words make your heart skip a beat, and you nod, still processing.

Not always around… not always around.

So they really aren’t planning on making this a thing, then. The thought stings with bitterness against your tongue, and you shove it away.

When you don’t say anything in response, Johnny sighs, and reaches for your hand, fingers curled against your palm in your lap. “How did we get on this subject anyway? We’re supposed to be havin’ some fun.” He smiles, big and warm, sending butterflies spiraling through your stomach and up your spine.

Simon’s gaze never strays from your face, and his brow furrows, like he’s reading you, or piecing you together. The scrutiny makes you shiver.

Why are you worrying about it? This is only like the third time seeing them, anyway. You’re getting too attached. You’re getting ahead of yourself. You’re just having fun. That’s all it is.

“Right.” You quip, and then pull your drink towards you before rising from the chair. Your skirt is short, and you realize it’s probably too short when you see Simon’s jaw grinding behind the mask as you turn your body, edge of the fabric brushing against the back of your thighs. His gaze is heavy, it’s hot, and you remember the image of him looking up from between your legs the other night, lower half of his face buried in your cunt, still hidden from view without the scrap of fabric. “So… should we get another round then?” You hold your empty drink, ice clinking against the glass, and Johnny chuckles before standing in front of you, a hand on covetously laying on your waist as his lips brush your cheek.

“’ll get them, love. You sit.”

The bed is very, very warm. You don’t even need the duvet and sheet that you have pulled around your shoulders, your hips, but you snuggle down into them farther, breathing in the scent of Johnny’s shampoo, of Simon’s skin.

It all whirs around you in some soft, soothing scented lullaby, and you allow yourself the indulgence, closing your eyes again even though you’ve only just woken from the nap that you slipped into when they left for a meeting.

You’ve managed to trap their body heat beneath the blankets, and you wiggle around until you’re facing the other side, staring at the bulletin board, your own face frozen in time staring back at you.

You look different. You look like you’re in a haze of contented bliss, a peaceful state of happiness, safe and secure, tucked between the two of them without a care in the world.

Why did it change? Who changed it? When? How?

The questions echo as you piece through the last few months in your mind, trying to place where the original seeds of darkness sprouted from, to find where the murky thoughts and feelings really came from, their roots, their birth.

This process, this seeking, makes your hands shake against the sheets. It makes your legs twitch, feet rubbing against each other while your chest tightens. Dread, panic, shame, all twist and turn through your mind, pinpointing your weaknesses and failures, exposing you to yourself like the fool you are.

They’re trying. Are you?

You don’t need the answers, not truly. You know where the blame lies. You know what happened. You know the part you played; you know the parts the guys played.

You stare at the wall and try to count the patterns in the concrete, willing your brain to focus, willing yourself to pull up, pull out, put your head on straight. The sound of blood rushing in your ears is deafening, loud enough that you think someone may hear it down the hall. May hear you, succumbing to yourself.

It feels like drowning.

They could pull you out. Simon could fix it. They could make it better.

But would they? Could he, now? When nothing is the same?

The memory from leaving the hotel ripples across your heart like a familiar melody, acid burning in your calves as you blink and shudder.

Simon, holding your nape, Johnny, holding you to him in the elevator, in the car.

“Stay with us darling. Stay here. With us.”

You wonder if it will ever be the same again.

You hate this one as much as the last.

Your mouth pulls into a frown, hands resting on your hips as you stare at the canvas in front of you, rotating your head from left to right, like that will make you see it better. Like that will bring it into focus.

The colors are wrong. They don’t harmonize, they don’t crest and swell together like you had envisioned. They don’t blend in a cacophony of floral silhouettes like you saw in your mind.

Instead, they look like a storming sea. Darker hues overpowering the light, like thunder through daybreak.

Maybe you could fix it? Or maybe, you should just abandon this technique. Maybe you could-

There’s a knock at your door.

It’s not light, or gentle, but firm, ringing out in rapid succession and you jerk.

Who could that be? You’re not expecting anyone until-

Oh. Oh no. Oh god. Oh no, no no.

Your eyes dart frantically around the art room before you're shoving the two brushes from your hands into a tray and tripping out into your living room.

“Oh my god.” You gulp out loud to no one but yourself, the person who has spent the last three, possibly four days in a haze, a painting binge, trying to escape the stress of your job, of life, of this… thing that’s going on with Simon and Johnny.

Trying to escape yourself. Your thoughts. Your feelings.

Your flat expresses it well. You think, possibly, it could appear like it had been ransacked. Your clothes are everywhere. Draped over your tiny loveseat couch, shoved between cushions and pillows. Two-day old toast sits on your kitchen counter, accompanying two, three, four coffee mugs that are filled with varying levels of liquid. Your uneaten dinner from last night sits on a plate next to the trash can, your oats from the other morning sit cold in the sink.

A prescription bottle that hasn’t been touched in four days, lurks on the kitchen counter with a handwritten note taped beneath it:

“You HAVE to, or you’ll regret it.”

Another knock sounds at your door, thumping followed by the sound of your phone vibrating next to the stove.

Your left sock has a swipe of chartreuse across it. Your overalls are tacky with dried paint. You can vaguely feel your hands touching your hair, your neck, hovering above where your heart hammers.

You can’t let them see you like this.

They’ve never seen you like this.

This is supposed to be light. It’s fun. It’s… not real. They’re not with you. They cannot see.

You take a deep breath.

Maybe you can pass it off. You can… say you’re sorry for the mess, that you’re sorting through things for donation. And you don’t have to lie about painting. That will explain the clothes.

You take a breath, and then open the door to find Johnny on the other side, happily smiling at you, mohawk shining in the light of the hall. He looks you up and down briefly, and you freeze, waiting.

Waiting for him to say something nasty, something hurtful. Waiting for him to reprimand you for failing, to accuse you of being useless, helpless. Waiting for him to tell you he doesn’t have time to deal with this. That you should be better, do a better job of taking care of yourself.

“- and he’ll just be a minute, but we’re so excited, been thinkin’ about ye all week. We had such a good time before we left, really loved sharing those days with you.” What? You blink. He cocks his head. “Love? Y’alright?”

“Yeah.” You answer, voice monotone. Somewhere, trapped beneath layers and layers of the worst pieces, you’re screaming. You’re aching. You’re desperate.

“This all paint?” He motions to the splatters and stains, and you nod robotically. “I remember, you mentioned that last time… that you paint. I uh, draw sometimes.” Of course, he draws. Because he’s beautiful, and perfect. He rubs his neck almost sheepishly before raising an eyebrow at you.

Oh. Right.

“D-do you… want to come in?” You offer it meekly. Please say no. say no, say you’ll wait out in there, say you don’t want to.

“Sure, thanks.” Fuck. He steps by you as you motion, brushing against you closely, close enough that the butterflies flutter and you can feel the heat of him. “This is cozy, yeah?” He gestures to your flat from the kitchen, and you nod again. On autopilot.

All you can see is the food, untouched, uneaten. Evidence of your struggle. A water bottle that’s full to brim. The coffee cups, that you couldn’t even bring yourself to wash. All you can feel is your own skin, dry around your mouth, your nose, and oily everywhere else, your dirty clothes heavy against your body. You can feel your teeth, your tongue, unbrushed, unclean in your mouth, jaw clicking while your grind your molars.

You shouldn’t have let him in. He’s going to see. He’s going to hate you. Hate this.

The room spins.

“Hey,” There’s a hand, on your arm. It’s big and soft, and sweet and you blink again. “Darling.” There it is. That pet name. That nick name. That name that’s quickly becoming your own. The one that makes you feel warm, safe, cherished. The one that makes you feel like this is something more.

You hate it.

You love it.

“What is it?” Johnny’s handsome face peers down at you, concern worrying across his brow.

“N-nothing.” You try to lead him off, but your breathing stutters through your nose, and he looks alarmed.

There’s a new knock at your door, heavy and quick, and you both turn to look just as Simon is filling the door frame, half of his face hidden with the black mask that he always wears.

He watches you. Like a predator. His eyes flick from you, to Johnny, to the kitchen… the living room.

It's like there’s a train sitting on your chest.

“Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” He says softly, clicking the door shut behind him. As soon as it’s secure, the mask comes off, and he’s focused on you, eyes not leaving your face, moving closer and closer until he’s upon you and Johnny, huge hand coming to hold your elbow. “What’s going on?” He murmurs, but it’s not for you. Even if it was, you cannot answer. There’s a train sitting on your chest, after all.

“Ah dinnae ken.” Johnny answers immediately, while his palm works up and down your arm in a calming pattern.

“Darling?” Simon cups your cheek. Ever since he showed you his face, he’s been… like this. Intuitive. Too intuitive. Too keen. Like he already knows. Like he’s been waiting.

“I-“ you try to tell him it’s nothing. That you’re tired. All of your lies flit through your head, the stories you wanted to concoct to explain everything away but nothing comes out. Not even your breath.

The room spins again, but this time so does your head. The floor feels like it’s tilting, or maybe it’s your feet that are off balance. You’re not sure. You feel light though, like your legs don’t even exist. Like your knees aren’t real.

“Shite.” Johnny swears, and lunges, hands darting out to catch you before the world goes black.

“Are you asleep?” There’s a whisper, like a soft touch, against your ear. It’s enough to prickle, enough to crack a smile across your lips, and you press your face into the blankets while strong hands shift your hips.

“I dinnae, might be.” Johnny hums, stroking fingertips down your ribs. It tickles, forcing a breathy giggle from your mouth that’s met with another’s, lips moving with yours while you melt away in a pile of partners and pillows.

“How was the meeting?” You whisper. Simon cradles you to his back, warmth bleeding through his shirt to your skin, and you shimmy closer, pressing hard until you’re flush with him, Johnny watching the two of you with heavy lidded eyes.

“Standard.” Simon answers. “Thought about you the whole time.” He kisses your cheek, arm reaching for Johnny who obliges, nestling himself against your chest. You focus on them, taking long, deep breaths, keeping yourself above water, keeping the murky depths at bay, for now.

It’s better, when they’re here. It’s always better, when you’re together.

“Thinkin’ about ye asleep in our bed, bare cunt on our sheets enough to drive me mad.” Johnny groans, fingers skating across your hip bone. You’re not wearing underwear, just a giant sweatshirt, one of theirs, though you’re not sure who’s.

Lust roars to life between your legs, desire, want, has you clenching, but you try shove it away.

It’s too much, too soon. You’re too… off center. You’ll lose yourself.

But they’re here. They’ll put you back together. Simon won’t let you fall.

It’s not a good idea.

You want it. You want them. Need them.

The back and forth makes your head hurt.

“I- I’m not ready.” You blurt, and he freezes, pulling his hand free immediately but you grab onto it, desperate to have his touch, to feel him.

Guilt burns in your heart.

“Of course, darling.”

“I’m sorry… I want to I just-“

“You never have to apologize.” Simon rumbles and you shake your head.

“I know but, I feel bad. Guilty.”

“Look at me.” He urges, and you shift, all while clutching Johnny’s hand in yours. “We love you. There is nothing for you to feel guilty about. We will be here when you are ready, but there’s no rush.” He strokes a thumb across your cheek, and you lean into it, eyes slipping closed. “I think I’d be more worried if you were ready to jump right into sex, after everything.” Johnny hums his agreement and presses a warm kiss to your shoulder.

“Let’s take a nap then?” He suggests, and you pull his arm to your chest, rocking between the two of them until you’re effectively sandwiched, comfortable, and secure, just the way you like it.

The way you dream about it.

The way you can only hope it might be, from now until forever.

#peaches writes #dead disco #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x soap x reader #soap x reader x ghost #soap x ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 5 months

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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 41

Part 1 Part 40

Eddie’s twitchier than usual all throughout the school day. He sits through shop and history and band, rocking back and forth in his seat, staring at the door. He wants to bolt out the classroom door and hunt Steve down.

He doesn’t even know Steve’s school schedule.

It’s too soon for him to be back. Medically and maybe emotionally if that showdown with Hagan and Perkins was anything to go by.

Eddie didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t that. He’d been picturing Steve slinking back into the shell of King Steve, curling all that jagged edges tight enough to cut himself.

But, no. King Steve had rather publicly and spectacularly abdicated his throne.

Eddie wants to be happy. That was one of the most public declarations of possession Eddie’s ever seen. Steve Harrington had scorned his friends, and walked away, with Eddie.

But Perkin had looked hurt, and Steve’s eyes had gone dead and cold, and that lifeless gaze had stayed all the way through Eddie dropping him off at his classroom like he was a kindergartener and Eddie was his parent.

So, Eddie is stressed, buzzing with useless adrenaline as he speeds through the cafeteria, grabbing his usual droll lunch, and dropping down at his seat.

Gareth plops down beside him and says, “so, I heard a rumor.”

“Hmm?” Eddie asks, eyes flitting around the cafeteria, barely listening.

Steve’s not in his usual seat, center-stage at the jock table. What if he doesn’t show up for lunch at all? Will Eddie have to search the entire school to find him and make sure the asshole is alive and eating?

“I heard Harrington showed up to school in your van.”

Eddie snaps his gaze up, only just noticing that Jeff is sitting across from him, staring him down with furrowed brows. “So?” Eddie asks, like it’s not a big deal at all.

“So?!” Gareth replies, leaning toward Eddie, bringing their faces alarmingly close together so he can glare right into Eddie’s eyes. “So, you’re sick for a week.” He pauses here to emphasize the little finger quotations he puts around the word sick. “And come back to school with the jock of all jocks?”

“Shut up,” Eddie says. He has no rebuttal, can’t say much else without finding himself chained to another chair in that same cold, windowless room. “He’s just going through some stuff.”

“And that’s your problem because?” Jeff asks, biting into his shitty school-lunch lasagna and scrapping his teeth against his fork just because he knows it bugs the shit out of Eddie.

Eddie sighs, running his fingers through his bangs vigorously. It’s been thirty seconds and he’s already frazzled beyond repair.

“Just be nice,” he hisses, glaring between his two friends even as Doug sits down beside Jeff and starts eating his burger like he doesn’t care about anything that’s happening. He’s now Eddie’s favorite.

“Are you serious?” Gareth asks. “You’re asking us to be nice to fucking Steve Harrington of all people? When would we even see him?” He throws his hands in the air; palms open like he wants to slap the shit out of Eddie but he’s hanging on by a thread. Eddie echoes the sentiment.

“Look—” Eddie starts.

But then there’s a lunch tray placed beside his own, and the subject of their conversation takes a seat by Eddie’s side without even a by your leave. Jeff and Gareth are both gawping, lunches forgotten. Even Doug stops eating to look between Eddie and Steve with a raised eyebrow before clearly deciding it’s none of his business.

Steve’s opted for the same over-cooked hockey puck hamburger with fries, but he doesn’t seem interested in eating it. Eddie resists the urge to cram it into his mouth. Just like the doctor ordered.

“What is happening?” Jeff asks, but he, too picks up his fork and begins eating.

“Lunch?” Eddie says. Beside him, Steve snorts, and Eddie’s insides flutter alarmingly.

“And you can’t sit with your friends over there because?” Gareth asks snidely, gesturing rudely over to Steve’s usual table.

“Dude,” Steve says. “My only friends are a twelve-year-old and this guy.” He points at Eddie like he’s something he scraped off his shoe, smirking like he knows he’s making everything worse.

“Stevie,” Eddie says, giving him his most devastating kicked-puppy eyes; the ones that always melted Uncle Wayne when he pulled them out of his arsenal. “Barb would cry if she heard you say that.”

“I would cry if Steve said what?” Barb asks, shoving him gently sideways so she can squish herself into the open spot at his side.

“Stevie here said you two aren’t friends,” Eddie tattles gleefully.

Barb looks over at Steve, eyebrow raised as she looks him up and down, smiling at the wardrobe change that was one of Eddie’s worn-out band T-shirts. “You’ll do, I guess,” Barb says, before turning to glare across the cafeteria. “Besides, I’m going to need some new friends at this rate.”

Everyone’s eyes track the movement, following her line of sight to where Nancy and Jonathan are cozied up next to each other. They both look as studious and serious as ever, but Eddie can see their thighs touching beneath the table. He glances over at Steve, feels relieved when Steve’s little face isn’t scrunched up in heartbreak. If anything, he looks confused.

“Ouch,” Eddie says, nudging her shoulder. “Tough break.”

“I don’t get it,” Steve says, still squinting in confusion over at the pair.

Barb sighs, picking at the seams of the peanut butter and jelly she pulls from her backpack. “All Nancy cares about right now is Jonathan.” Her shoulders slump as she nibbles around her sandwich, only eating the crust like a weirdo. “At least with you, I knew it wouldn’t last.” She keeps talking over Steve’s little, offended, “hey!” “Now, when am I going to get my best friend back?”

Steve’s staring at Barb like he wants to burrow into her skull and root around. “She’s right there.” He points at Nancy rudely. Luckily, Nancy doesn’t seem to notice; too wrapped up in her nerdy little version of a honeymoon phase. “Can’t you just go hang out with both of them?”

“Dude,” Jeff says, staring at Steve like he’s an especially weird bug. Even Gareth is too baffled to seem all that hostile anymore. Eddie feels smug. How Steve passed for a suave, cool jock for so long is a mystery.

Barb groans, biting her sandwich in half viciously. “It’s not the same,” she says. “They’re all wrapped up in each other.”

“Didn’t Hagan and Perkins go through a honeymoon phase?” Eddie asks. “What did you used to do when they’d go on their romantic dates?”

If anything, Steve looks more confused. “Go with them?”

“You’re shitting me,” Gareth says aggressively, like this is some weird hazing ritual.

“Wait, no. Let’s let this play out,” Eddie says, turning his back on Gareth so he can watch Steve. “So, let’s set the stage. It’s valentine’s day, 1982. Tommy Hagan has set up a candlelit dinner with Miss Perkins to celebrate their eternal love. Where are you in this scenario?”

Steve’s still got his brows furrowed like he doesn’t understand the assignment. “Have you been like, stalking me?” The little freak sounds almost flattered at the accusation.

“Are you serious, Stevie?” Eddie asks, unsurprised when Steve nods.

“So, you, Steve Harrington, showed up at your best friend’s valentine’s date last year and that was just fine?” Barb asks, deadpan.

“Usually, I help Carol do her make-up before,” Steve replies, blessedly finally picking up his burger and taking a bite. He looks over at the jock table, something small and forlorn twisting his mouth even as he bites savagely into his burger like he’s trying to kill it. “She’s not good at doing her own eye shadow without looking like a hooker.”

Everyone’s just staring at Steve while he eats his burger, oblivious.

“What the fuck?” Gareth asks.

Eddie looks over to the jock table. Tommy and Carol are both seated, glaring at the back of Steve’s head with poorly concealed jealousy. “You know,” Eddie says, looking away quickly before he accidentally meets either of the wonder twin’s eyes, “this actually explains so much.”

Barb sweeps her empty sandwich baggy into the trash like the middle-class girl she is and says, almost like she’s thinking about it, “I don’t think I can go on Nancy and Jonathan’s dates.”

Jeff, having finished his lasagna in silence, says, “Okay, they’re both freaks.”

“Here that Stevie?” Eddie asks, wrapping his arm around Steve’s shoulder and shaking him as he tries to swallow his bite of hamburger without choking. “You can stay!”

Steve takes another bite and talk around the mouthful like the heathen he is. “I was never going anywhere.”

Eddie smiles down at Steve, not dropping him as he takes a bite of his own lasagna. He lets the warmth in.

Part 42

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar

#steddie upsidedown au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #my fic

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partycatty · 4 months

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dark star!johnny cage > against the world

what it's like dating the evil version of hollywood's golden boy. it's not all fun and games, even if that's how he sees it

warnings: lowkey abusive relationship like just straight up. yandere. lil smutty but nothing horrifically graphic.

notes: listened to "wrap me in plastic" and "watch me work" while writing LMFAO also please god the coat stays ON ‼️‼️‼️‼️ hes so scrummy i need him biblically

masterlist <3

part 2* / part 3* / part 4* / part 5* / part 6*

•first of all, dark star!johnny is so incredibly emotionally immature. he's a whiny bastard fr. hell hath no fury like a white man that's in the wrong during an argument with his girlfriend

•"baaaabe what's wrong?? it was just a joke!" after he says you're a 6/10 compared to a model on his phone. ZERO awareness.

•WALL PUNCHER. IM JUST BEING HONEST. your beautiful pale pink walls have so many shoulder-height white patches from you having to fix the wall every time his water has an inadequate amount of cucumber slices.

•he's got the same upbringing as the better johnny, shitty dad and dead mom. he just never really knew how to cope with it. equally as famous as his counterpart, he prefers throwing punches in action flicks. he's just somehow more of a dick about it.

•pampered to holy hell between shots, all relaxed in his chair with his name embroidered on it while one woman tends to his makeup, another to his hair, a third feeding him water. it's how he wants it to be, he needs to be perfect. he is perfect.

•spends like two hours getting ready, most of the time is spent on his hair. you tell him it'd be more efficient to trim it down a couple inches but he likes the way it flops over. you also like the way it falls in front of his face during his stunts. he's just so effortlessly sexy.

•uses his height and physique to his advantage. he loves backing you into corners and looming above you menacingly to watch you squirm, flustered. his large sunglasses reflect your pathetic little face.

•now with you, he loves to show you off, but not enough for you to steal the spotlight. you're his favorite little accessory that hangs off his arm. he chooses your outfits when you make public appearances. INSISTS on matching all the time. misty blue dress with gold jewelry to match his obnoxiously large coat.

•the good johnny plays things up for the camera and saves the sweetness for behind closed doors. dark star!johnny doesn't know when to turn off "camera mode." bro will not be sweet with you unless it gets him brownie points after he fucks up.

•he's so unfair. women fawn over him constantly and he smiles all smugly and leans into their touches. but if a man so much as looks at you for more than a couple seconds, he's beating the guy in moments.

•hates it when you find joy in other people. he will constantly fill you with thoughts that everyone will leave you one day for one reason or another, and that you should feel lucky that a world famous actor wants you.

•will make you turn against people you hold dear, he cuts them out of your life so they can't influence you like he does. this man is a smooth talker and hardcore manipulator that'll leave you anxious when you talk to anyone but him. he has you thinking everyone's out to get you.

•"come on baby, you really think they'd love you like i do? don't be delusional. it's just you and me against the world, you got it?"

•you guys have had so many public scandals, you're the main source of income for the TMZ employees.

•sex tape here, public screaming match there

•speaking of which this dude FUCKS. HARD. :3

•johnny will literally pound you into oblivion whenever he pleases. he prefers doggystyle so he can use your hair as leverage. sometimes he reaches forward and holds your jaw, chest pressed against your back as he mercilessly fucks you. he totally gets himself off on your pathetic moans.

•records it every time. partially to jerk off to later, partially as leverage against you.

•"you like that?" he'll ask in that low growl, somehow hitting even deeper. "nobody can fuck you like i do. so don't even fucking think about leaving - ngh -"

•after an argument, you'll find gorgeous purses or necklaces on your shared vanity. not because he's sorry, but because he knows you'll forget about how annoying he can be when he shells out a couple thousand on a gift for you.

•you could honestly probably do better, but who's gonna say no to johnny cage?

#johnny cage #mk1 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage smut #mortal kombat smut

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augiewrites · 6 months

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"secret admirer" - dead poets society

summary: y/n receives yet another profession of love under their door—too bad the hallway is always empty when they open the door

pairing: anonymous!dead poet x gender neutral reader

word count: 591

i am back two years and one english degree later to write a fic that no one asked for! now that's what i call self care!

part two

Winter proved the student body of Welton wrong when they thought the school couldn't get any more dull. The cold can be cruel like that.

Just like the winter stripped the North of all life, Welton stripped it's students of all identity. In a place where boot licking is the norm and conformity is the goal—Y/N's only retreat was the 200 square foot box they called home for ten months of the year. The only place anyone in Welton was allowed to be themself.

That was exactly where Y/N and their roommate—Quinn—found themselves on a particularly cold Sunday morning.

Y/N sighed and looked from their homework over to Quinn, who had yet to get out of bed, "Do you know that guy that's like...scary good at latin? What's his name? Minks?"

"Hmm," Quinn hummed, wrapping the blanket closer to their body, "the ginger kid? Always hanging out with that tall dude?"

"Yeah, him," a pause and yet another sigh from Y/N, "I think I need a tutor if I want to keep an A this semester. I—"

Suddenly an envelope skidded under the door and across the floor. Rapid footsteps followed soon after and Y/N could hear a door slamming further down the wing.

Quinn rolled their eyes, "God. Not another one."

Y/N just shot them a look and picked up the envelope—one of many addressed to them and left unsigned.

"You wouldn't be rolling your eyes if you were the one with a secret admirer."

"You wouldn't be rolling your eyes if you were the one with a secret admirer mehmheh blah," Quinn mocked in a high tone, "Yeah. If they were for me, they'd be romantic. For you? Prepare to be murdered."

"Shut up."

Y/N opened the letter and dove in. Their heart was beating much faster than they would like to admit.

Lovely Y/N,

She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

I couldn't help but think of you when Keating had us reciting Lord Byron's work last week. The sun was so bright for a dreary winter day, and the rays illuminating from the window painted an image of heaven around your silhouette. You looked so lovely, I could barely register Byron's words.

I would happily go toward the light if I knew you were waiting for me within it.

Sincerely,

Yours.

Y/N could feel Quinn's eyes on them as their cheeks burst into a rosy flame.

"He's in my English class."

Quinn gasped, "Finally! We have a lead!"

"Quinn, I really don't want to play detective on this...what if I think it's the wrong person and make a fool of myself? I think I would have to drop out. Die, even."

But Quinn kept rambling on, completely ignoring their roommate's apprehension, "it's too bad I'm not smart enough for AP English—I would for sure be able to catch that creep staring you down. You're so oblivious. He could be telling you all these things to your face and you would doubt that he's into you."

"I'm not that oblivious, Quinn."

"Oh, please," Quinn exclaimed, "you're so romantically challenged! This guy has been right under your nose and you don't have a single clue!"

Y/N scoffed and returned to their homework.

"Whatever you say, Quinn. We're just going to have to wait and see."

~~~

a/n: who could it possibly be?? 🤯

part two

#dead poets society #dead poets society x reader #dps #dps boys #dps fanfiction #todd anderson #neil perry #steven meeks #gerard pitts #charlie dalton #knox overstreet #todd anderson x reader #neil perry x reader #steven meeks x reader #gerard pitts x reader #charlie dalton x reader #knox overstreet x reader #dps x reader

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 6 days

Text

Mean Eddie series. Part one part two

Minors shoo. More angst I'm afraid, jealous Eddie but our boy won't admit it.

💌🫣

How you've managed to avoid Eddie for a full week is anyone's guess but between cheer practice, sleepovers with Chrissy and hanging out with Steve and Robin, it's like a soothing balm for your heartache.

Except at the dead of night when the ache from missing Eddie threatens to overwhelm you. The thing is you're stubborn and you highly doubt Eddie is missing you. Why would he?

Billy Hargrove has also been trying to catch your attention, he's been flirting for the entire week and he's not shy about doing it in front of others either.

It's not like Billy isn't handsome, he is. However you've heard far too many things about him dating multiple girls, being a player. You weren't interested in being another notch on his bedpost.

As your at your locker and attempting not to look Eddie's way, his locker is right across from yours and he's busy chatting to Gareth, discussing the new Hellfire campaign he's planning.

You'd been with Eddie once while he was knee deep in campaign planning, watched as his tongue poked out while he was writing and weaving a new story for the next Hellfire night. He looked so cute and it made you giggle, Eddie smirks amused at your giggles.

"Princess, I said no interruptions if you stayed, I may need to punish you for that" he kissed you then proceeded to tickle you until you were breathless and laughing, Eddie watching you with a soft smile on his face.

It was one of the moments with him where you thought the two of you could be more. Obviously you were wrong.

Billy brings you out of your reverie and you realise he's been standing talking to you for a full minute. Shit. What did he say?

"We could go to the party then somewhere more private babe?" He winks at you and you jump as you hear a locker slam. Eddie's.

Gareth is watching him confused as he gathers up his notes. "Dude, what's up with you?" you tear your eyes away from Eddie and back to an expectancy Billy.

"Sorry, I have other plans with Chrissy" Billy frowns but spots Eddie before he can say anything else.

"Hey man, you got any weed for me? Need some tonight" Eddie's gaze briefly drifts over to you and your heart skips a beat, then he looks away and disappointment curdles in your stomach.

"No, I don't have any for you and your girlfriend" he spits out the word and you freeze. What was up with him? Evidently Billy must be thinking the same thing.

"What's crawled up your ass Munson?" Billy snaps and Eddie's brown eyes meet his, they flash dangerously. He's never been intimidated by Billy and he isn't going to start now.

"Next time you two want to flirt can you do it out of the way of us peasants. You're bringing my lunch up dude" you freeze at Eddie's tone. Seriously what the fuck was up with him?

Before Billy can reply you do. "You're insufferable Eddie. Billy's not my boyfriend. Not that is any of your business" you can feel the anger clawing inside of you and just dare Eddie to say something stupid.

He shrugs and avoids your gaze. "Your love life isn't my concern" he murmurs and you swear you're this close to losing it. You take a deep breath and shake your head.

"Whatever Munson" you're tired of crying about someone who just doesn't care. You walk away but Eddie calls out to you.

"Wait" you wait with baited breath for him to say something, anything. Come on Eddie. But he doesn't, he just stays quiet and you feel another crack in your heart.

"Never mind" whatever he was about to say it's gone now and you curse yourself for daring to hope.

Fuck you Eddie.

...

Stop, you're losin' me

I can't find a pulse

Stop, you're losin' me

My heart won't start anymore

For you

'Cause you're losin' me

Taylor swift- You're losing me.

...

I don't want you to lose me, you think through your anger but nothing will ever change so what was the point of hoping.

💌❤️

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #jealous eddie #eddie munson angst #eddie munson

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hawkinsmethlab · 10 months

Text

Part Two

Read on AO3

The first time they kiss, Eddie is technically dead. Or, does CPR even count? Steve’s tempted to say no, because that’s not how kissing works. (He would know the best out of any of them, right?) The cracking of ribs under his hands and the taste of blood in his mouth, how desperately he’s blowing air into too-heavy lungs and listening to one of his best friends cry so hard he’s dry heaving.

But he doesn’t stop, not until there’s a pulse, however weak.

Eddie dies twice on the way to the hospital. They tell Steve later that he died again when he was on the operating table and nearly didn’t get him back.

Steve runs himself ragged over the next month, between volunteering at the community center, donating blood and making sandwiches, helping to clear the streets of debris, patrolling for Upside Down shenanigans and playing chauffeur for his gang of kids who aren’t acting so much like kids these days. He visits Max and Eddie as often as he can. Max still hasn’t woken up and nobody’s sure when that might be, but he gets to have his first conversation with Eddie about a month later.

He’s only been awake for a week, and still can’t do much of anything but talk, and even that’s hit or miss most days. Even when he can kind of hold a conversation, he gets tired too fast for it to mean much, but everyone Steve talks to is upbeat about his recovery.

He hadn’t been planning on actually sitting with him, there’s still so much to do, but Wayne had asked him to hang out while he ran to grab himself some lunch. Who is he to deny that man anything, especially something so easy as watching a half-comatose idiot?

Eddie wakes up after about a minute of Steve being there. When he notices him, Eddie’s eyes go glazed and he’s got a dopey smile.

“They’ve got you on the good stuff, huh?” Steve says.

Eddie nods, but his muscles are loose so it’s more of a roll. “Oh, yeah. I’d make a fortune off the stuff if I could get my hands on it. But, shh, don’t tell. I’ll get in trouble.”

“Okay, man, whatever you say. My lips are sealed or whatever.”

“Mmm.” Eddie squints at him then, frowns until he’s pouting. “Sorry you had to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Lay one on me,” he says, eyes closed now. “Bet you hated it. Bet it tasted awful.”

Steve rolls his eyes, fights back the smile his lips are trying to pull up into. “Appreciate the concern. Lucky for you, it wasn’t anything I hadn’t tasted before. And I didn’t. Hate it.”

Eddie’s eyes open so fast Steve worries they’re gonna fly out of his skull. “You what?”

“I was saving your life, dude,” Steve says. Duh. “Hard to hate something like that. I mean, maybe if it hadn’t worked then it might be a different story but--”

“Oh. Right.” Eddie relaxes back into his pillow. He’s trying to keep his eyes open, on Steve, but it’s a fight he isn’t going to win. He’s like a kid trying to stay up past his bedtime, and this time Steve can’t force down the smile in time.

“Just go to sleep,” he tells him. “Your uncle will be back soon.”

“Been sleepin’ forever, I’m sick of it. Keep havin’ weird dreams.”

“...Yeah, I’ve been there.”

Silence settles between them, broken by beeps of machinery, distant footsteps and announcements from the hallway. Eddie’s eyes are closed again, his brow still creased. Steve thinks he might have actually fallen back asleep until he sees his lips move.

Steve scoots a little closer. “Are you trying to say something?”

Eddie sniffs, make the face like he’s pouting again. “I said, I’mma make it up to you.”

“Make what up to me?”

“Bad first kiss.” Eddie shakes his head. “I can do better. Wanna do-over.”

Steve freezes like a deer in headlights. Like he has a gun to his head. Like he just heard the front door open and he knows it’s his parents coming home. He knows it’s the drugs talking and that Eddie doesn’t know what he’s saying, not really. At the end of the day he probably isn’t going to remember this conversation.

Eddie is in a hospital bed, hooked up to about a dozen different machines looking like he’s been hit by a train, his skin so pale that Steve can make out every vein, every bruise and cut and stitch. Long fingernails and peeling scabs that crawl up his neck like a fungus. He’s drooling a bit from the side of his mouth and his eyes are still crusty with sleep and he’s got a smattering of acne that’s cropped up on his forehead and nose, along the edge of his chin. His bangs are pinned back because they’re so greasy.

Steve’s heart races anyway.

There’s a correct answer here, the one he’s been raised with, the one beaten into him. The instinctual urge to brush it off as a joke (ha, good one, man) to take it as an insult (remember who you’re talking to, Munson) to ignore it altogether (just go back to sleep).

Then there’s the incorrect answer.

“Alright, Munson,” he says, softly, terrified. “Once you’re all better, you can show me what I missed out on.”

Through the exhaustion and the pain meds, Eddie grins. “Watch out, Harrington. I’m about to rock your world.”

Steve smiles. He doesn’t fight it this time. “Can’t wait.”

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #my writing

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ranhaitanisgf · 4 months

Note

Can I please request the love at first sight trope and seven minutes in heaven for Mikey :) (just an idea but maybe he sees her forms a crush and stuff then he invite her to a party hosted by toman) also I absolutely love your writing I've been binge reading!

— manjiro [mikey] sano // love at first sight // seven minutes in heaven

☆ ˎˊ˗ hi anon !! thank you for requesting for my event !! i'm ngl i did nawt kno what i was doin w this ... just kinda cranked this out lawl ... hopefully you all will enjoy anyways !! xoxo

☆ ˎˊ˗ fem!reader

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 1.1k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

you are so nervous right now.

“hey, don’t worry about it! everyone’s going to love you!”

“right…” you replied, still feeling nervous as you and mikey stood outside the door.

you had been confused when mikey first talked to you on one of the rare days he came to school, and you were even more confused when he had invited you to hang out after school. you had only ever spoken to him in passing, so when he invited you to go eat out with him, you were sure that he was trying to play you.

at first, you didn’t fall for his wily tricks, even when he ended up falling asleep on your shoulder when he was taking the train home with you, (yeah, you definitely didn’t think it was cute…nope…). you had been suspicious of him, wondering if perhaps he’d been dared to try and get you to fall for him, (unfortunately, it wouldn’t be the first time that happened).

however, when he confessed to you, things changed.

you hadn’t seen it coming at all, but he casually admitted to having feelings for you while the two of you were walking to get food one day, saying that he immediately had thought you were one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever seen.

“i’m flattered mikey, but you can stop it now…”

“huh?”

“you’re probably doing this on a dare, right?” you sighed, furrowing your brows. “you can stop pretending to like me now.”

“(y/n)-chan, you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen in my life.” mikey responded, his face dead serious.

“w-what?! stop! how could that even be true?!”

“it is true. you can choose to not believe me, but i’ll keep telling you until you accept it.”

since that day, you’d been unsure of how to feel about him. you really wanted to believe him and accept that he liked you, but at the same time, you were too scared that he might be trying to prank you. he really did keep his promise of telling you every single day though, which was slowly starting to convince you.

and so, here you were.

he had been bugging you to come to a party with all his friends, saying that he wants everyone to meet the girl that stole his heart, (it was a cheesy line, but it made you feel all fuzzy inside). when you finally accepted the invitation, you knew you wouldn’t be able to back out of this when you saw the excited smile on his face.

“you ready?” mikey asked, bringing you back to the present. he was looking at you with a soft smile, calming your nerves a bit.

“yeah.” with a nod, mikey opened the door, leading the two of you inside to where everyone was. as soon as everyone caught sight of the two of you, they were immediately staring, making you fidget with a lock of your hair as you stood next to mikey. were you supposed to say something?

also, why were they all sitting in a circle.

“mikey, good timing! we were gonna play seven minutes in heaven!” a boy with pink hair piped up, (why was he smiling so much?).

“hah…? everyone here is dudes…” mikey stated, obviously confused. “i thought we were gonna play monopoly!”

“well, you’re right, so you and your lady friend can go first!!” a boy with long black hair suggested, suddenly standing up and walking towards the two of you. “you don’t mind, right?” he asked you.

“uh, i suppose not…” you responded, feeling a bit confused as to what was going on. when you looked at mikey, you could tell that he had something he wanted to say to everyone, but didn’t, instead just staring at them with a deadpan face.

“well, since there’s no complaints, let’s get this started!” someone yelled out, making everyone cheer. without a moment to spare, the boy with black grabbed both of your arms with a gentle yet firm grip, dragging you and mikey towards a nearby closet.

“oi, just whaddya think you’re-!”

“shaddup, mikey, you’ll thank us later!”

before you could even think to question what you had just agreed to, the two of you were pushed into the closet, a click! sound coming from the doorknob, leaving you and mikey in darkness.

“uh…what just happened?” you hesitantly asked. you could hear mikey sighing, beginning to knock on the door. it was to no avail though; they had turned the music back on, blocking out his voice to the outside world.

“buncha idiots…” he muttered. “it’s okay, they’re just playing a prank, so let’s play along!” he said. through the darkness, you could see him sitting down, gesturing for you to sit down as well.

when you sat down next to him, you weren’t sure what to say. you had been really nervous to come inside and meet everyone, but now you were nervous because you were in this enclosed and dark space, very close to mikey, (you weren’t nervous he was going to do anything, you were just nervous that…actually, you’re going to be too flustered if you think about that).

“by the way, (y/n)-chan, you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“h-huh? why’re you saying that now?”

“well, i haven’t said it today, right?” mikey asked, seeming to be thinking for a moment. “i don’t think so…” your heart was starting to beat faster; of course, he’d been saying that to you since he’d confessed, but being in such close proximity to him in this situation was making you feel more and more convinced of his feelings.

“...mikey, you…” you started, your eyes dropping to stare at your fingers in your lap. “you’re the best person i’ve ever met. i really like you.” you finally let out, shutting your eyes in anticipation.

maybe i shouldn’t have said that…

“woah, seriously…?” you heard him say. you slowly opened your eyes, glancing over at mikey beside you.

he was looking at you with the most childish and excited expression; you could almost see the sparkles in his eyes as his lips were curled into the most boyish and cute smile you’ve ever seen.

“are you serious right now? you’re not joking?!” he asked, his voice shaking with nervousness and excitement.

“no, i wouldn’t joke about that…” you murmured, smiling shyly at him.

he suddenly moved closer to you, wrapping his arms around your frame tightly as you pulled you close to himself, his face buried in your neck.

“ahh, i’m so happy right now…” he said, his voice low and soft, (you were trying to not focus on the fact that you could feel his breaths against your skin).

hesitantly, you wrapped your arms around him as well, relishing in the way that he held you a bit tighter, as if he was never going to let you go. it felt like there was nothing that could affect you while in his arms; all you knew was mikey.

“thank you for trusting me, (y/n)-chan.”

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marjorie189 · 9 days

Text

Solo Trip (A Jude Bellingham Imagine) Part 2

Jude Bellingham x Mexican!femreader

It's specifically a Mexican reader but there's cute Jude moments on here I think everyone should have a read at :)

Click here to read Part 1!

contains: social media au & text messages!

wc: 6,571 (in total of pt. 1 & 2)

summary: Y/N goes away on a trip to Mexico much to Jude's dismay!

includes: suggestive content and sexting!

I don't see much love for us Mexican and Brown girlies on here so I must deliver 🫡 I honestly had SO much fun writing and creating this, I hope you all enjoy it! I really connected to this post and poured out all my love and devotion to it!

meanwhile y/n and jude oblivious to the whole twitter situation:

judebellingham posted a story

vinijr posted a story

back to twitter:

video:

Guy in the photo talking to his friend

Guy in photo: “Ey, ey, ella que no es la novia de jude?” (Hey, hey, isn’t that jude’s girlfriend?) He points out starstruck, pointing at Y/N who was nearby.

Friend: “¿Parece que sí es?” (It seems like she is?) His friend replied recognizing her.

Guy in photo: “Oye le pediré foto?” (Hey, should I ask her for a photo?) He nervously asks. “¡Tal vez me menciona a Jude!” (Maybe she’ll mention me to Jude!)

Friend: “¿estás bien hermano? ¡Tú crees que van a platicar de ti! Ay wey en realidad estas mal” (Are you good bro? You think they’re going to talk about you? Oh dude, you’re so wrong!)

Guy: “callate! ¡No me arruines mis esperanzas! si hay hasta una pequeña posibilidad de que Jude simplemente escuche de mí por parte de t/n, ¡moriré feliz!” (Shut up! Don’t ruin my hopes! If there’s even a slight chance of Jude hearing of me from Y/N, I’ll die happy!) The boy smiled, determined to go up to Y/N.

Friend: está bien, vamos (fine, let’s go)

The two boys appeared to walk, on video, towards Y/N.

They tapped her on her shoulder once they had reached her. She turns around, appearing on camera.

Y/N smiles kindly at them.

Guy: Hola perdón por molestarte. Es que soy un gran fan de Jude. ¿Está bien si nos tomemos una foto? (Hey, sorry to bother you. It’s just that I’m a huge fan of Jude. Is it okay if we take a photo?)

Y/N smiled widely at the question.

Y/N: “¡Claro!” (Of course!)

They both pose for the infamous photo and the friend retrieves it from the video.

Guy: “Gracias t/n!” Te lo agradezco.” (Thank you Y/N! I appreciate it) The boy expresses. Y/N smiles and nods at the fan.

Y/N: “¡Por nada! Tengan una bonita noche, que la disfruten!” (You’re welcome! Have a great night guys, enjoy it!) Y/N wishes, ready to part ways.

Guy: “¡Me saludas a Jude, porfa!” (Say hello to Jude for me, please!) The guy pleads, causing Y/N to giggle at the interaction.

Y/N: “Cuéntalo hecho!” (Count it as done!) Y/N smiles before walking away. Keeping her promise, later that night mentioning the encounter to Jude.

Y/N leaves and the friend starts to scold his friend.

Friend: “No manches! Salistes bien amargado en la foto wey!” (Seriously? You came out so bitter in the photo, dumbass!)

Guy: Es que estaba bien nervioso hermano. O sea es la novia de Jude Bellingham!” (It’s because I was so nervous, bro! I mean it’s Jude Bellingham’s girlfriend!) The boy exclaims to his friend. “¡Cómo crees que me sentia! Estoy por las nubes!” (How do you think I felt? I’m over the moon!)

Video ends

Back to Y/N & Jude:

yourusername

liked by yourmom, judebellingham, erling.haaland and 369,583 others

yourusername en el coleadero y empolvada 🏇 dia seis! (in the coleadero [a horse sports event] and dusty 🏇 day six!)

view all comments

yourmom you look so cute mija (darling)

yourusername thank you mami i love you! 💜

com1 she looks adorable in the first pic!

com2 okay but the sky!!!

erling.haaland I didn’t expect Jude to last this long without you! I just know he’s hanging on by a thread 🤣 I hope you’re having a great time out there y/n/n

com3 i’m dead erling 💀

judebellingham trust me mate I am not doing well

yourusername you know he’s the biggest baby erl!! Thank you ☺️

judebellingham you look hermosa!

yourusername did you use google translate? 😂 but thank you bebe 🥰

com4 A+ for effort lmao

yourusername

liked by judebellingham, jesusortizpazfr, and 397,539 others

yourusername bailes en el rancho son mis favoritos! ya estamos listos para mañana 🥳 day 7 (dances at the ranch are my favorite! we’re ready for tomorrow 🥳)

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yourusername before anyone mentions my cousin on the last pic, he took me out to dance bc I was the only one from my primas (female cousins) who was standing alone at the baile while the rest were dancing w their mans🥺

com1 y/n better than me bc if my man didn’t know how to dance and I was at a baile I would be dancing!! not my fault my man don’t wanna learn

com2 you look like so much fun!

com3 the vibe in all of her daily dumps are EVERYTHING!

com4 I miss mexico now 😩

primo.user (cousin.user) mi compañera de baile MAS favorita!! 💃🏼 (my MOST favorite dance partner!! 💃🏼)

yourusername gracias por sacarme a bailar me moría de ganas (thank you for taking me out to dance, i was dying to dance!)

com5 Not y/n wanting to dance but couldn’t bc she’s a faithful woman! props to her cousin for standing up 👏

judebellingham la mas chula 😘 (the prettiest 😘)

yourusername you got me blushing bellingham 🤭 i’m glad you’ve got the google translate app installed

com5 not jop in the likes

com7 fr, first peso now jop

com8 jop didn’t have it in him to leave a comment like peso pluma thooo

com9 damn they’re already pregaming for the feria (festival) tomorrow

messages:

Twitter:

yourusername

liked by judebellingham and 387,437 others

yourusername sabado de gloria was one for the books ❤️‍🔥 mi mexico querido, el pais con tradiciones increibles 🥹 (saturday of glory was one for the books ❤️‍🔥 my beloved mexico, the country with incredible traditions 🥹)

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com1 okay bc Jude with a Mexican girlfriend was something I never expected but they’re so cute together!!! 💗

com2 the cultural difference between them is mind blowing but i kinda like it

com3 okay it’s been a week we need Jude and Y/N back together ASAP

judebellingham mi niña bonita 😍 I hope you’re having a blast darling!

yourusername the spanish better not stop when I get home because it’s so cute!

judebellingham i’m thanking google translate rn 🙏🏽

com4 that last pic is so aestheticly pleasing

com5 okay now I understand why Y/N had to go to Mexico!! That looks like sm fun

com6 fr i was like why would she ever leave Jude but I see why now

com7 her outfit and boots are so cute 🤩

Y/N’s POV:

I spread my limbs throughout the comfy bed but not as comfortable as the one awaiting me back home. My eyes flutter open, as I bask in my last morning in Mexico.

The morning sun shining through the window, brightening up the room. I take one last look through the window, the tree tall and green, dogs laying out on the ground, the pretty plants and the great range of mountains surrounding the rancho.

I let out a deep sigh as I sat up in bed, a mixed emotion about leaving this place. Leaving the peaceful and warm lifestyle that is Mexico was always heart wrenching but my skin tingles at the thought of going back home. Not a home, like a house or a place but Jude. Jude is my home.

I smiled at the thought of him and a warmth at my core enlights.

A home cooked meal was already awaiting me in the kitchen and family slowly started filling my grandparents' home to say their goodbyes.

I frown at the thought of leaving them but I know life would never be the same if I stayed.

The time is approaching to my last minutes with everyone. An emotional goodbye to the animals, the beautiful home that holds many wonderful memories, and of course to all of my family especially my grandparents.

“Te amamos mija. Ya sabes que aqui siempre esta tu casa, (we love you darling. You know that you’ll always have your home here” My grandma tells and we pull each other into a tight hug.

I wipe the tears that we are threatening to spill.

“Hasta luego muñeca que dios la bendiga! (Until next time doll god bless you!)” My grandpa expressed as he kissed my cheek, pulling me into his arms.

After all the goodbyes, my uncle started the truck and loaded my luggages.

On our way to the airport I watched the landscapes contentedly and whispered my goodbyes to the familiar roads.

yourusername posted two stories

judebellingham posted a story

taglist: @annab-nana @hoodpankow @alaynahope714 @jeyramarie @lemur46 @goldenroutledge @valluvsu @paleprincessturtle @hoelesslyt @drewsephrry @northernstarkey

All pics are from Pinterest!

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fan fiction #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x you #mexican!reader #mexican reader #latina reader #jude bellingham x mexican!reader #jude bellingham x latina!reader

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