#like the biggest dude you have ever seen that looks mean as hell but is actually a ray of sunshine?

[teencopandthesourwolf]

"I'll text Stiles," Scott says, grabbing his backpack. "Then I'm gonna go see Allison.”

When Scott turns back around, Derek's lips are a thin line and they are the only part of him that moves when he asks, through his teeth, "Are you going to talk to her, too?”

Scott just squints. Because—huh? 

"Derek, what do you mean, am I going to talk to her, too?” He narrows his eyes even more, suspicious. “Why else would I be going to see Allison, if not to talk to her? I don't just, like, watch her from afar like some creeper, you know." 

Scott isn't about to admit that he has, embarrassingly, done just that on occasion. Alright, occasions, plural—but only once or twice! Five or six times, tops. And only ever when he thought Allison was, or could possibly be, in danger. It's not weird, though. It's not! It's noble, okay? It just sounds weird when you say it out loud. Even if he hasn't actually said it out loud. Well, at least not just now anyways; he's said it in front of the mirror a couple times and it turns out your reflection can be pretty hurtful and judgemental which, honestly, is a little upsetting.  

Just as Scott realises that Derek must know he just told a lie—half-lie!—the Alpha's face does a thing that Scott has never seen it do before. Ever. The dude looks almost… Human. 

And, what the hell? 

Derek clears his throat and shifts his weight from one foot to the other and worries at his bottom lip a bit and now Scott is feeling anxious because who is this guy? And what has he done with Derek ‘I Will Never Give A Single Thing Away About Myself Ever Other Than The Fact I Am Eternally Pissed’ Hale? (that's one of Stiles's). 

Just the possibility of Derek ‘Emotionally Open and Vulnerable’ Hale is, like—it's just way too much for Scott to handle on a Sunday morning when he's supposed to be at the veterinary surgery in less than fourteen minute's time and has to somehow manage fitting in seeing Allison on the way.

But it seems Scott is also too nosy to just move on from this and let sleeping dogs lie. And both of those things are really annoying because strange old phrases and being overly curious is usually a Stiles thing, not a Scott thing, so Scott really doesn't know what he's supposed to do! 

W.W.S.D. 

What Would Stiles Do?

"Um, Derek, have you been—"

"Firstly, McCall, following somebody around and watching them from a distance is not creepy if you think that they need to be tailed for their own safety, alright?" Derek starts and—well.

Exactly!

Scott actually genuinely likes Derek, for just a moment, because he knew he'd been right about that! He gives himself an internal high-five and an imaginary congratulatory pat on the back because being kind to yourself is never a bad option. Unfortunately, Scott now also has to admit to himself that it does, in fact, sound weird when you say it out loud. Or, well, think it out loud. Whatever, he knows what he means.

He realises that Derek is still speaking.

"...because Stiles is human and also the biggest danger-magnet in the pack, so it makes sense that one of us should be keeping tabs on him. Thirdly, I—“ 

“Someone, Derek!” Scott blurts, “I was going to ask if you've been creeping on someone!" he interrupts because—honestly, in the most way possible—what?! The hell?!

Scott is both stunned and annoyed at hearing that Derek has been following Stiles (hiding around dark corners and slinking about the place like a wolf ninja. Scott should know. Shut up.) 

Because Stiles! Is Scott's best friend! 

And, like, how long has he been doing this? And for what purpose, really? Because Derek's heart just skipped about twelve beats, never mind one, so reason number two was obviously at least a half-lie of his own. 

That's when Derek's mouth clacks audibly shut. 

Scott just stares. And he knows; there is more going on here than meets the eye.

Then it's obvious that Derek knows that Scott knows and then everybody is knowing and looking and looking and knowing and Scott just—he can't stand it, okay? He needs confirmation. He doesn't necessarily want it, but it's like his mom always says: Life's tough sometimes. 

Eventually, he manages to say, "Are you stalking Stiles, Derek?" and hopes to hell he's wrong because he now feels somewhere in between being affronted on his best friend's behalf, totally grossed-out because it's Derek, ugh, and maybe just a little bit amused. Or is it bemused? Possibly confused. Scott is definitely some of those words. 

And again, seriously, what the hell?  

Has Derek honestly been creeping on Stiles because he's concerned for Stiles's safety? And, if so, why? Like, does Derek even get concerned for humans? Or other wolves for that matter (apart from maybe his own betas which is probably only a biological thing anyway, Scott reckons). Does Derek care about anybody? At all? Dude doesn't even care about himself, Scott doesn't think.

Scott now tries his best to come up with another reason, any other possible reason, that someone might have to follow a person around, but he can't seem to land on—OH, GOD! DOES DEREK HAVE A CRUSH ON STILES? Oh, shit! Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! He can't. But he—nope. No! Because what. The actual. Hell! He just—no. No, no, no. He can't! Can he? Oh, my God, what if he does?! And if it is true... ew! Derek Hale crushing is just gross! And on Stiles?! Just, no. But also, why? And also-also, how the hell did Scott not notice something sooner?! 

And another thing: Did Scott somehow wake up this morning having somehow travelled in his sleep to one of those Affirmative Universe places that Stiles is always banging on about?

Man, Scott has, like, so many questions. 

Derek still hasn't said anything and is just standing opposite Scott with his stupid arms folded across his stupid chest with his stupid beard in his stupid loft looking really, really stupidly sheepish, and Scott thinks, yep.

Affirmative Universe. 

He doesn't know what to do and Stiles isn't here to ask, so he waves a confused (and maybe amused and bemused) arm in the air and says, “Derek, what the hell is going on? Have we travelled to an Affirmative Universe or something, because—”  

“Don't you mean Alternative Universe?”  

“—you never just, I don't know, don't throw something offensive or at least defensive back at me when I'm talking to you about Stiles. Or, you know, anybody else. Or anything else, come to think of it!”   

Derek now looks, for real, actually scared.

And Scott? Well, Scott is now officially terrified.  

His phone starts ringing and, as it's already in his hand, he just answers it without looking, eyes still fixed on Derek The Imposter. 

“Yooooo, amigo, what's the plan?” 

It's Stiles. Of course it's Stiles. 

Stiles is on the phone and Derek Hale might-probably-definitely have a crush on him, and Scott may or may not be in an Affirmative Universe but can't know for sure and can no longer speak or think or breathe.

“Uh, Scottie? Scottland? Sir Scott-A-Lot? You there, ol’buddy, ol’pal?” 

Derek can obviously hear who is on the other end of the phone. He looks positively constipated, his brows knitting together even tighter than before, tighter than ever before, and his lethal jaw is ticking away like it's being controlled by the World Clock in Berlin that Scott learned about in middle school.

Scott sighs, heavy, like he's seventy years old instead of seventeen.

Derek is now giving his best version of Scott's own speciality Puppy Dog Eyes (something Stiles and Allison always accuse him of), with a definite flavour of please, don't tell…

And Scott wants to cry. Like a baby. Like, throw himself onto the floor and scream and shout and kick his feet in the air. 

Instead, he grits his teeth together like the mature person he is, feeling very firmly smooshed between a best friend-shaped rock and a werewolf-scented hard place. 

Ugh, his life is just so unfair!

He mouths YOU OWE ME to Derek, and Derek's whole body visibly sags with relief. 

Then he takes a deep breath and answers Stiles—who is now chanting ScottieScottieScottieScottieScottieScottieScottie down the phone—with, “Dude, shut up and listen, will you! I think we might have a very real problem with Affirmative Universes!”

#just found the first half of this in my drafts and inexplicably finished it off #so here. have some random POV scotty sterek for your wednesday :) #sterek #sterek ficlet #POV scott mccall #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek fanfic #sterek fanfiction #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #queer fic #queer writer #tcats writes #teencopandthesourwolf

[silassinclair]

Like Looking into a Mirror

(PolyLostBoys x Fem!ArtistReader)

Summary: Being a vampire has it's ups and downs. But one of the biggest downs was that you couldn't see yourself. Whether it be in photographs or reflections. This means that neither of the boys have seen what they themselves look like since they were turned. So when a shy little artist introduces herself to the boys with a painting of all of them they realize they not only know what they look like but also have found their mate.

Santa Carla is a city of opportunity. A place flourishing with job opportunity and people buzzling about everywhere. But for yourself, a struggling artist, it was the opposite. Running away from home was supposed to be your fresh start, a way to get away from it all and live your life to the fullest. To paint to your heart's desire. But it was nothing like that.

There were no places for you to work and use your artistry to the fullest. The only place you found where you could work was the library. Reading itself was an art but not exactly your forte, but it was close enough and payed decently.

It was 8 at night. The sun set and the amusement park alive with people. By the beach wall you sat with a miniature canvas, paints, and brushes. Every night you'd come to the boardwalk and paint it's colorful passerby's. Unlike your old small town people here dressed unique. So many colors and style subcultures.

Scanning the crowd you hunted for your new inspiration. Person or people to replicate onto your canvas. Your direction was pulled to the sounds of purring engines. To your left under a streetlamp by the very wall you were sitting on, four men looking your age parked their bikes. Their fashion stood out amongst anyone you have ever seen on the boardwalk.

A bleached platinum blonde. His mullet stood sharp, almost as sharp as his eyes. A tall brunet with no shirt under his long coat. His long hair rested on his back. A natural blonde with wild hair and a just as wild personality. And finally the short one with long blonde curls and a face that could combat a cherub's.

Everything about them was perfect. You studied them for minutes and looked away when you felt their curious gazes turn to you. Having all their features down to memory you painted away. You painted all of them standing together standing in their own way. Straight and confident, collected and cool, laid back, goofy.

As you painted each of the men's features you smiled to yourself. This may have been one of your best works yet. When you finished the piece in an hour or two you would definitely give it to them as a gift. Usually you would give the paintings you made of people to them to see their reactions. Every time they were always very grateful and happy, seeing them smile is the reason why art is your passion.

You really hope they would appreciate it though, since they are your temporary muse of inspiration and these four seem pretty intimidating.

.

.

"Yeah man I'm telling you she kept looking at us. But when I would look at her she'd look away and start writing shit on her canvas or whatever." Paul said while nudging David. He didn't care when his friend told him that the girl to their right kept sneaking glances at them.

Girls stare at him and his vampiric brothers all the time. What can he say? He knows him and his brothers are hotter than hell so who wouldn't stare?

"What Paul, you wanna talk to her or something? Just go talk to the chick like what you always do." David said with an eyeroll and a freshly lit cigarette hanging from his lips.

Paul bashfully looked down and scratched his neck. "Dude I dunno.. she doesn't seem too interested. Probably looking at us because we dress weird?"

Now David was confused. Was his flirt machine of a brother.. shy? A sly grin curled onto the platinum blondes lips. He looked to Dwayne and Marko and those two seemed to catch on quick about Paul's little crush.

Putting his arm around his blonde brother David said, "Do you perhaps like this girl Pauly?"

Paul growled and shoved him off making Marko and Dwayne holler in laughter.

"Dude you're fucking whipped! Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Marko laughed and held his chest. Paul hit him upside the head with his palm.

"Shut the fuck up!"

Dwayne's laughing reduced to small chuckles. He looked over at the girl who Paul seemed so flustered over. She was wearing a long frilly black skirt and a sage green blouse. Her hair styled uniquely and anklets and bracelets adorned their respected limbs.

"Hm.." Dwayne hummed, "I get what you mean Paul."

Paul shot his taller brother a glare. "Yeah. Should have at least checked her out before makin' fun o' me."

Marko looked over to see what all the fuss was over. His eyes widened a fraction when he saw the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. And she was painting too, something he adored doing.

Sensing someone looking at her Y/n looked up and four pairs of eyes were on her. The eyes of the subjects she was painting at the moment. Feeling like she had been caught doing something wrong, she looked back down at her canvas in a flash and finished up the final finishing touches.

"She was totally checking us out." Paul said smirking, well his insecurity flew out the window.

"Dude she's cute as hell man. How'd we not see her around before? And why didn't you tell us Pauly!" Marko grabbed his terror twin by the shoulders and shook him back and forth.

David snapped his fingers and the two instantly stopped with their rough housing. "We're all going to approach her. Perhaps we will have a meal tonight boys, or more."

Deadly smiles grew on the pack's faces. Time to do what they knew best. Lure and capture.

.

.

You stood up when you finally finished the painting. The four of them painted in their signature clothing. All standing together. Two of them smiling and two not. Honestly, you were scared to give this painting to them. What if they didn't like it? Or what if they thought you were some kind of weird stalker?

Walking to the group of the four bikers they all seemed to perk up at your sudden presence.

"What a surprise, we were just about to walk over to you babydoll." The curly haired one said. Your grip on the canvas tightened. Seeming to notice the tallest and only brunet of the group asked,

"What's that you got there sweetheart?"

Ignoring the soaring feeling in your stomach you avoided eye contact with the group and quietly muttered your explanation, "U-Uhm I'm an artist and stuff... It's a hobby and stuff and I paint people on the board walk all the time. And when I saw a-all you four I couldn't help but notice how uniquely dressed you all are. So I painted all of you!"

Looking up at the group finally with a crooked smile on your face you showed them your work and flipped your canvas around revealing your work.

All four of them brought their faces close to the canvas, the two wild blondes started to push and shove and what seemed like the leader of the group punched both of their arms.

"You really did this?" The platinum blonde said. He looked into your eyes, a mixed emotion behind his. His gloved finger pointed at himself painted realistically.

"That's me?"

You nodded and handed the painting to him which he gently accepted.

"Of course that's you silly. I painted the four of y-you. Hope you all like it!"

The four boys looked up at you gratefully. It was sudden but the brunette pulled you into a hug. He didn't seem like the touchy type and it surprised you with his sudden action.

"Thank you sweetheart. My brothers and I appreciate this... a lot. A lot more than you may think." He released you from his chilling yet warm embrace.

"No need to thank me.."

"Dwayne."

"Dwayne, I do this to make people like you and your brother happy. It's what I love about art ya'know?"

He smiled and introduced each of his brothers. David, Paul, and Marko.

"I am truly grateful for this kitten. Say, you wanna ride with us? You know where Hudson's Bluff is right?"

Nodding you let him continue.

"Wanna hang out with us four for the night? Promise we won't let you be bored for even a minute." His black gloved hand twirled a lock of your h/c hair around his finger.

Shyly moving away you muster up the courage to agree and go with him. He asked who you wanted to ride with and Paul seemed to be the most eager to get you to ride with him, so you gave in and got on the back of his bike.

"Hold on doll!" He revved his engine while his brother did the same. Hooting and hollering they sped down the sandy beach taking you to their cave.

"This is just the beginning!" Paul yelled over the sound of the engines. Not understanding him well you tightened your embrace around his torso and leaned in closer.

"You're gonna love us I promise!" Now that one you heard.

this was lowkey dogpiss but my head hurts so oopsie daisy

#the lost boys x reader #poly lost boys x reader #david the lost boys #paul the lost boys #marko the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #the lost boys 1987

[koliejeon]

Tainted by You - JJK

╰┈➤ 𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: nerd yandere jk x queen bee reader!

╰┈➤ 𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: who would have thought that being tainted by the nerd Jeon Jungkook would feel this good.

╰┈➤ 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 3.3k+

╰┈➤ 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: manipulation, gaslighting, dumbification cock riding, fingering, dom jk, sub! reader, cream pie, squirting, size kink, blackmailing, yandere jk, slightly mean jk, degradation.

You're considered the queen bee of your university, the one who's always seen as the epitome of perfection, with everyone admiring how much of a pretty face and a smart student you are. Being looked up to by everyone on this kind of level really boosts your ego, so it's a shame if anyone would know how much of a  moaning bitch you are while riding the cock of the biggest nerd in school, Jeon Jungkook. 

But It's not your fault that he just fucks you too good... 

He’s just too good at it that you can’t help youself coming back for more, even if you fully knew that this would taint your reputation as a queen bee. I mean, everyone’s expecting you to date someone who’s on your level, and not just a nerd dude with a messy curly black hair and thick glasses that just covers his features. 

But to your defense, he’s not what everyone is thinking of him of. That boy who’s always shy around people, and just keeps himself accompanied with his books has a totally different persona when it’s just the two of you alone. He’s not shy, he’s actually arrogant, mean, manipulative and hot…

Yeah, hot… like how hot the depts of hell could feel like.

It all started last month when your stupid history professor decided to paired you up with him for a project. You didn’t have a problem with it, you thought that with this project, he might open up with you and to others instead of being that awkward nerd guy that everyone hates.

╰┈➤ 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙝

The bell rang as a sign that the class discussion has already ended and that it’s now time for lunch. “You may now leave the class, don’t forget to communicate with your partners and discuss the project” Mr. Lim, your History professor, reminded to everyone as they started packing their things to leave the class. Some replied a simple “yes” to him, while some didn’t bother and just hurriedly leave the room before the canteen seats would run out.

“Y/N, hurry up, let’s go now!” Jennie, who’s one of your friends said to you as she’s waiting for you near the classroom’s door. You smiled at here and was about to say something along the lines of “Yeah, i’m coming,” but you got distracted when you saw the boy in one of the backseats, he looks so lonely in there packing his things ever so slowly – probably taking his time since no one is inviting him anyway to go for a lunch, and for some reason you felt pity for him. “Actually, just go ahead first, I remember I have something to do this time” you lied to her, and she simply just agreed to what you said as she quickly tag along with her other friends.

Now it’s just the two of you alone in the classroom, you awkwardly approach him… unsure of how to start a conversation with him. “Uhm… Jungkook right?” you asked even know the answer is already obvious.  He looked up at you and stared at you for atleast 5 seconds before responding “Y-yeah that’s me” he managed to mutter that out with a little stutter. You thought he was just shy, and you hate it. This is literally the reason why he’s being made fun of by those bullies. You brushed off that thought as you brightly smiled at him, “Great! I’m Y/N, Mr. Lim paired us up for the project. I suggest if we start doing it as early as possible” 

“I’m okay with that” he simply replied.

“I’m free later, are you okay with that? I just don’t know where we can do the project though, My apartment is not that great since it’s small and I’m sharing it with Jennie” You stated, already feeling comfortable in conversing with him even though he’s not literally replying anything and just looking at you. You  guess he’s more of a listener rather than a talker. “Aha! How about we do the project at your place?”  you suggested out of nowhere. The project has to do with arts and crafts, so coffee shops are not the best place to do the project. 

Jungkook eyes seemed to widen from being shock with what you’ve said. He can't even believe it. You want to go to his house??? This is something straight out from his dreams.

“Y-yeah…sure, why not” he was really glad and euphoric that you’ve said that, but his reply came like he was just forced to say yes.  “Great! You can send me your address” you said, and he frowned but not enough for you to notice, what do you mean by that? You don’t wanna go with him together at his house later? “Uhm… lets just go together later” he suggested, and you nervously chuckled, no way your gonna go with him after class, people might see you and probably make fun of you for hanging out with a weird guy like him.

“But-”

“It’s kind of far away from here and you might get lost” he explained without stuttering, while straightly looking in your eyes. Those thick glasses might have cover his intense gaze, but definitely not the tension that’s starting to form in the room.

There’s this something from his aura, it’s like a sudden change that you could clearly figure out, but it surely made you nervous as you gulped. You wanted to say something but you were unable to get the right word out of your mouth, so instead you simply just agreed with him “...m’kay” you said while looking at the ground like a child who got declined by your parents to buy the toy that you wanted in the store. 

Yeah, you wanted to somehow talk to him, but not like this!  You were sulking with the idea and Jungkook found it cute that he smirk at your behavior. He broke the silence by saying good bye to you for now, “So I guess were already settled? I’ll see you at the parking lot” 

╰┈➤ 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙥𝙨 - 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙤𝙩

It’s already 6 PM when I headed in the parking lot as I try to spot where Jungkook might be. Classes are already finished at 5:30 PM but I made sure to be late so that no one familiar would spot me getting onto Jungkook’s vehicle. This almost feels like I’m doing some sort of a crime, even though I am not. After a few minutes of searching he spots me and raised his hand to get my attention. I immediately went into his direction and damn… I just don’t know how to feel.

He’s leaning in a black sedan that I suppose is his with his left hand in his pocket and the other hand holding a cigarette. This is the only time that I’ve noticed he has veiny hands. Just what the actual fuck! It feels like I’m looking at the same person from an hour ago! He’s definitely not the typical nerd you get to see everyday. I mean, a nerd with a sedan who’s looking hot as ever while smoking?! I was basically gawking at the new sight, and I only got out from my delusions when he cleared his throat.

“Let’s go?” He said as he throw the cigarette on the ground and stomped on it. “Yeah” is the only thing I was able to mutter as I went to the passenger side of his car. I buckled my seatbelt on, and he started driving. He was wearing a ripped jeans and a grey Calvin Clien hoodie that he later on re-adjusted, exposing his left arm that is covered with tattoos. Do I even fully know this guy??? It seems like all those school gossips about him are just pure lies.

He was not lying, his house was really a bit far from the University, not to mention the slight traffic on the way. His house was located somewhere inside of an expensive looking village.

“You live here?” You asked after getting out of his car. The house was big, and looks expensive with a modern touch to its’ architecture. “Yeah, my parents gifted it to me last year” he replied like it was nothing as he guided you through the main entrance of his house. What kind of parents would gift their child an expensive house?! For fucks sake he didn’t even graduated yet or is about to get married. His parents must be crazy rich like those in the movies.

“I already have the needed materials, is it okay for you to wait here? I just needed to freshen up”

“Ugh… yeah sure. I’ll just play some music in my phone” I said, and he simply chuckled before opening the television for me without saying anything. I feel poor being here., well yeah my parents are also well-off, but not on this level!  Waiting for him for at least 25 minutes was boring so I just made myself at home as I watched the movie playing in the television. 

“You should take a picture” he suddenly said which caught me off guard

“I- what?”

“You’re looking at me a little too much”

“No I wasn’t!” I tried to deny it even though it was already obvious as my face became as red as a tomato from being so embarrassed, that I choosed to look on the floor, being shy to even look at him” Inside of my head, I was scolding myself for acting that way, he must have now think of me as a pervert!

He started approaching me, and before I knew it, he lifted up my chin as he cupped my face with both of his hands so that I would look at him. We we’re both looking at each other’s eyes, and then everything just happened so fast, I didn’t even know why I let It happen, but we we’re now passionately kissing as both of our tongues fought for dominance in which he obviously won. We were now in his bedroom but before things could  get even more heated, I tap his shoulder thrice as a sign that I want it to stop. Gladly, he accepted my request and pulled back, “This is wrong” I simply told him, and a that made him ‘tsk’ as his face contorted an annoyed look.

“Wrong? Tell me what’s wrong about this Y/N?!” He answered back, he’s clearly not liking what I’ve told him but him. I can’t just answer him by saying that I don’t want to be associated with someone like him, people would make fun of me, and my reputation as a queen bee who’s always been perfect would be tainted. I don’t want them to think that choosing Jungkook was a bad decision, and that I’ve made a wrong decision. But I just can’t also tell that to Jungkook, I don’t want him to feel bad himself even though those are the true reason. I remained silent without moving a single inch of my body, my hand are still in his shoulder while he’s arms are wrapped on my waist. We were standing in the middle of the room, but even though were close enough, I didn’t had the urge to look in his eyes even though I know that he’s  looking at me with burning gaze.

“What? You don’t know how to answer now? Cat got your tongue? Or  you’re stupid little mind can’t just comprehend simple things?!” All his words hurt like hell, I didn’t even realize he could say such mean things to me, when all I knew is that we was that shy nerd boy at the back of the class who doesn’t even know how to fight back from his bullies. “Stupid Y/N, can’t even explain herself” he continued belittling me and it was all to much that I burst out and cry myself in his chest. He was shocked for a while but then embraced me in his arms as he let me cry all my worries while shushing me down “Shhh it’s okay darling, I know you’re little brain hurts from thinking too much, you don’t have to think, that’s my job, and you only have to follow what I say, right? It’s true, my mind was clouded and it hurts, so I just let him embrace me while drawing circles on my back.

It stayed like that for a while but then Jungkook drop the bomb, “I know you think it’s wrong because it would taint your reputation. Their poor queen bee Lee Y/N dating the nerd Jeon Jungkook? Doesn’t sound good to them right?” I look up at him, unable to say anything, and that just made me tear up more. “I’m sorry” I muttered to him as I buried myself in his bare chest, the citrus scent of his body wash engulfing my nostrils.

“Shhh… it’s okay baby, I know how much you love the attention the campus is giving you, it makes your dumb ego grow right? But the thing is, you ONLY need my attention”

“I’m sorry - Y/N’s really sorry” I said, already at my worst point as I continued to cry. I feel like a bad person based on what’s he’s telling me, but that’s the truth, I’m too self-concious of what people will say to me, I’m someone who starved attention, and I just feel bad that Jungkook has to know that side of me, and I’m now thinking that I hurted his feelings because I was too selfish. So I kept on apologizing “Gguk, Y/N’s sorry, please forgive her”

Jungkook smirked in victory, he knew he fully had you in control, oh just how easy it is to manipulate you. To break you into pieces so that he can fix you again, and then make feel like he’s the only one who can fix and save you from yourself.

“Shh… I was really hurt, darling. What you did was wrong, how come you think of me as a person that would taint your reputation when all I do is love you from a far?” that made me feel guilty more…

“But I would forgive you if…

“If what? Please tell me, Gguk, I will make it up to you, I promise!” I said, feeling determined to fix my mistake.

“If you make love with me. Prove me that you love me, that you need me, and that you’re not afraid to be tainted by me” and so, without much thought, I kissed him deeply, I opened my mouth, inviting him to intertwine his tongue in my hot cavern, as he lifted my shirt and carry me on his bed. I am now laying on my back, the tension from both us rising as I hurriedly removed my pants, leaving me in my underwear. The sight infront of me, him hovering above me as he continued kissing me while exploring every inch of my body had me whimpering in his bed. He started attacking my neck, making sure to leave as many hickies he could so that everyone knows I’m his.

His right hand started massaging my breast while the one started licking and sucking my nipple. The pleasure was just too good to be true, and after a seconds, my buds now sensitive and hardened as I continued moaning shamelessly. The pleasure that he’s giving me was just too god that I started unconciously buckling my hips to his hardened dick.  “Too impatients aren’t you?” he teased, and I just whimpered. He took off my panties, looking at my dripping core, already wet for him. “Please hurry,”  “Easy there, princess we have to to adjust your pretty little pussy first so it woudn’t hurt that much, okay?” he’s talking to me as if I’m some dumb kid, it was embarrasing but it makes me more turned on. Two fingers were pushed in my hole, I was shocked at the sudden intrusion but he soothed it by drawing circles on clit. “See? My fingers are even too much for you, how can you properly take my cock if you’re like that?” I wanted to disagree with him but I coudn’t utter a single word as he started fastly moving his digits inside me. “One more,  please” he only chuckled after hearing that, and I’ve never felt so pathetic in my entire life. He must’ve known that I’m  being dumbly determined just to impress him, but I later regret that when he fulfilled my wish. 

“As you wish, darling” the third finger definitely burned my inside like hell, he’s fingers are not just long but also thick. After some time, my moans got louder and louder as I trembled in his fingers, and before I knew it, I squirted a lot, but he didn’t stop from fingering me, until I was begging him to stop “Ggukie…. To-too much please” and with that he removed his fingers on me...

“You haven’t even got the real thing yet. Plus you promised me, you would make it up for me, right?  I was really hurt you know?”

“Sorry, I forgot” I embarrassedly admitted with a pout  and he only chuckled at me “I know, it’s okay, I’m always here to remind you”

“Have you tried riding a cock before?” his question caught me off guard, 

“What??? No I’ve never! Plus… you’re actually my first”

“Good, cause I will make sure that that person would die, if someone comes first on you before me. How about you become a good girl and right my dick, yeah? Prove me that you’re really sorry” I blushed at his statement but I didn’t bother to disagree with his request, I was at fault and I should make it up.

He’s leaning on the headboard right now, and Ii’m straddling his lap, while he lined up his cock in my entrance. I started moving down ever so slowly, but Jungkook was patient enough. But you know what they say, patience can also grew out easily, “What if it hurts?” I dumbly asked him, knowing that it would hurt more after seeing his size. He’s length is around 7 inch and it’s very thick, “It’s supposed to hurt, Darling” and with that, both of his hands pushed me down on his length, it hurt at first, but after a few seconds of adjusting, it felt like a bliss of heaven. I continued to bounce up and down on his length while moaning loudly as he played with my boobs, “Touch your clit, love” I did as what I was told and it was the best feeling I could ever imagine. Later on, I grew tired and cummed on his dick, but he didn’t stop there, instead he controlled my hip movement as he buckled is hips to reach his high and cum deep inside me. I was already pliant as black out after the session.

You may have not seen it, but Jungkook had the biggest grin of victory on his face, as he removed his now soften length inside your pussy. You’re already passed out, so Jungkook took the time to clean both of you as he covered your body with clean sheets. Little did you know, everything was recorded, from the moment the two of you step in his room. Jungkook would surely play the video sometime to jerk on you, and maybe use it for blackmail if you started acting up. But for now, you don’t have to know anything, what the two of you have, the thing that he made you believe, is already enough for him, cause he succesfully tainted you.

#yandere jungkook #jungkook #bts fanfic #fanfic #jungkook ff #smut #bts smut

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Ruining his Night

Jamie left everything on the field that night, and it paid off. His team celebrated the win inside the locker room with jovial claps on the back and cries of triumph. It was impossible for the other team to ignore the shouting as they filed on their bus, already resigned to a sad silence for the long ride back home.

However, no one was quiet in the locker room. The home team was far too pumped from the success of the night.

"Now that's how you play football, boys!" Jamie cried to his team, "You think those twinks are celebrating anything tonight?"

"No!" everyone shouted back in unison.

"You think we have something to celebrate, boys?" Jamie's smile beamed at his teammates.

"Yes!" they roared.

Jamie's grin didn't falter as he showered and dried up. He and the rest of the players were already planning the biggest rager the college had ever seen. The word was already out, and their fans were already setting everything up.

Jamie slipped a clean T-shirt over his head. He was finally done changing, but something felt off. A strange fog fell over his thoughts.

His victorious smile faltered.

"Yo, Jamie?" a teammate asked, "You good?"

"Yes," Jamie answered flatly.

All emotion seemed to disappear from his face. It was like he'd completely dissociated from his surroundings. The victory didn't even seem to register on his face anymore.

"What the hell, dude. Liven up!" another jock chimed in, "We just won for God's sake! I thought you were ready to party!"

Jamie didn't seem to listen. His face remained unexcited, and his eyes seemed to glaze over. He was like an entirely different person from the man who was gloating in success a few moments earlier.

"I can't go to the party," Jamie suddenly broke his silence.

"What the hell!" his friends scoffed in disbelief, "What do you mean you can't go? We have to celebrate, right?"

"I have plans," Jamie responded apathetically.

The football players couldn't believe their star quarterback. Jamie had just won the game and psyched the team up for a party, and now he wanted to bail? It didn't make sense.

Jamie was set. He left his team and abandoned the locker room, ignoring his perplexed teammates. Jamie pushed out the door and into the cold night, marching past his parked car. He trudged several blocks in the opposite direction of the house party.

Jamie turned into a neighborhood he'd never been in before; he walked right up to a house he'd never visited before; and he knocked on a door he'd never seen in his life. He had no reason to be here, but none of this seemed to bother him in the slightest.

The door swung open and, robotically, Jamie relayed, "Quarterback Jamie is reporting for duty."

The scrawny guy inside grinned maniacally at the athlete standing in the cold. He seemed utterly dumbfounded by both Jamie's presence and his words.

"Oh my God, guys!" the boy screeched, "He actually came!"

Jamie was grabbed by the arm and pulled into the house. The quarterback allowed himself to be dragged into a messy living room where several nerdy men were sat around a table playing some sort of board game.

"Look," the boy who answered the door whined, "The hypnosis actually worked! And he even said the line!"

"No way!" one of them gasped.

"Jamie," he slapped the quarterback on the back of the head, "Say it again."

Again, in the same monotone voice, Jamie relayed, "Quarterback Jamie is reporting for duty."

The nerds sent their seats flying as they fumbled out of their chairs. Jamie stood there and stared ahead while the impish geeks admired his superior form, eagerly feeling the thick flesh beneath his small muscle-T. He didn't mind having so many hands travelling all over his body. They pinched his nipples, groped his butt, and even explored his crotch, but he just stood there and waited to be told what to do.

That was what he'd been programmed to do.

Jamie stood there for the rest of the night, wearing nothing but a bowtie and apron. He was commanded to fetch the drinks and hold them like a "Good Little Seltzer Boy." That was what the geeks called him. They quickly became engrossed in their Dungeons and Dragons campaign, occasionally turning to Jamie and grabbing a drink from his tray or copping a feel of his muscles.

Jamie didn't mind. His phone was going off like crazy. All his teammates and friends were wondering why he wasn't at the party, but one of the geeks quickly silenced the device and tossed it in the corner.

"Jamie is ours tonight," he giggled, "Aren't you, Seltzer Boy?"

"Yes," Jamie answered numbly.

"There's nowhere you'd rather be, right?"

"No," Jamie said.

But Jamie wasn't really answering. He wasn't really thinking at all. One of those geeks was a waterboy on the football team and had been slowly hypnotizing the star quarterback in secret. Jamie had ultimately fallen under trance and received programming to report to the nerd's house after the football game.

Once the match ended, his mind couldn't do anything but go blank and obey.

Jamie continued to serve drinks late into the night. The nerds continued to take advantage of the quarterback's presence, ordering him to fetch more seltzers from the nearest liquor store. Jamie subsequently marched several more blocks through the cold and loaded several cases of the fruity drink on the check out station.

"Aren't you the quarterback," the store-owner commented, "Is this really the stuff you drink?"

"Yes," Jamie answered mindlessly, and then handed over all the cash in his wallet.

The nerds were overjoyed to see the jock lugging back as many cases of their favorite drink as he could carry. They became more brazen with him as they got more drunk.

Jamie began rotating between massaging the shoulders and feet of different D&D players as they demanded it. He was completely indifferent when one of them ordered him to massage the more intimate area between their legs. Jamie didn't mind.

"Who cares about this game," one of them finally tossed the board aside, "Jamie, get over here."

Jamie was already kneeling on the floor to massage somebody else's crotch, so he proceeded to turn and crawl over to the speaker, completely ignorant to the fact that his apron left his muscled rear completely exposed for the rest of them to gape at.

The players forgot all about their campaign, devolving into a band of horny brats with a mindless jock at their whim. Jamie couldn't be more unbothered by the different ways the nerds bossed him around. His mind knew his body was theirs to use.

By morning, he'd be made to clean everything up and forget. He'd tell his friends he got drunk at a different party though he had no memory of any of it. Needless to say, Jamie's night of triumph had been thoroughly ruined.

"Will you at least go out with us tonight?" a fellow jock asked.

Jamie shook his head as a familiar blankness washed over his face, "I have plans."

#gay hypnosis #mind control #hypno story #gay mind control #hypnotized #servant #gay ai art

[critterbitter]

What do you know- I'm trying out the askbox *eyes*

anyway I just wanted to say that high-key I think I'd follow any content you make at this point bc your art brings me so much joy. That doesn't tend to happen super often since i am,,,, very much so a hyperfixation-focused person HAHA

regardless I'm not exactly quiet about it but I adore your art and I look forward to each new time you post :D

I WISH i had the capability of pumping out art like you do bc man while I love to draw and have so many ideas all the time picking up the pencil is Hard Dude.

Also! In a recent post you mentioned the whole Twin Dragons AU and HC that people love to have- I'd be super curious as to your opinion on it!

-( ╹▽╹ )

I SEE YOUR TAGS AND IM.

I’ll have to slow down at some point on that Submas Grind, but the hyperfixation throes are REAL. Thank you for inhabiting the tunnels with me! People that tag and cheer artists on are the real mvps of the art economy.

As for twin dragon aus!

I’ve always seen Emmet as more zekrom esque, and Ingo more reshiram esque. Is it cause the typing matches their starters? Maybe, hehe.

Ultimately though, the guys are too multifaceted for me to easily split them into truth and ideals.

I also see the legendaries as Eldritch Abominations Beyond Understanding, so having the dragons in my iteration become the twins would, uh, have consequences. The funny goofy story would dip into horror territory instead. (Reshiram demands only truths, and anything not Absolute will burn. And zekrom’s ideals are beyond human understanding, and trying to understand the mad tangle of thunder would drive somebody insane.)

(I’m a huge tma fan. Can you see it? Man.)

((Also N’s a scary mofo for summoning reshiram. I’m digging directly into the whole “twin heroes have a civil war and it destroyed unova” backstory that pokemon set up, and the more I think about it the stronger my dread mounts at the idea of Zekrom OR Reshiram casually flying overhead.

But this is also just how I see the legendaries of the pokemon world! Lugia sinks islands. Groudon covers towns. Arceus loves the mortal world, and mourns because its immortality only brings grief. Giritina hates, because it’s the ghostly remains of every one of Arceus’s mistakes given drive, banished into the distortion realm. Normal stuff!)

You sly dog, you got me monologing! But here’s the tldr: Not sure i’ll ever make my own serious Dragon AU that follows my internal world building for pokemon. I’m too attached to my favorite trope: “the smallest people can still initiate the biggest of changes”, and I’m too attached to my other favorite trope: “legendaries are actually gods and you Should Be Frightened.”

So that’s why, in this essay, if the trio gets turned into pokemon, I’d make them route 1 run of the mill rats. Because rats can do whatever they want.

(Plus, patrats and pachirisu aren’t banned from the subway battles last I checked.)

If i had to make a goofy crack dragon au though, I think this would be the result:

The whole story would just be the trio and historians trying to figure out what the hell the twins got turned into, and concerns of other people becoming pokemon as well. So far, people are convinced they’re a paradox version of an archen. (I mean…)

(Alternate take of THAT, where elesa gets turned into a victini.)

#long rambling talk under cut! #click at your own peril #ask #mailbox #i have feelings for forces of nature that shape the pokemon workd #benevolent gods. apathetic gods. malicious gods…. mMMz #pokemon #guess this counts as submas! #submas #nimbasa trio #my two hot takes on the twin dragons au #critterbitter #critterbitter screams into the void #myart

[small-sinclair]

Hehehe I love you’re writing, here’s another request, angst with a happy ending

7. I told you that I fucking loved you and you stood there and laughed at me (angst prompt list)

9. “I love you doesn’t begin to express what I feel for you.” (Fluff prompt list)

Reader confessed their love, Bo laughs (it’s out of disbelief reader doesn’t take it that way) reader leaves, Bo comes home in the evening, obviously dude sucks at his emotions and they argue and then Bo ends up word vomiting a love confession too, little kissy at the end :3

Ooooooo. This is a nice one! Had to think about this one for a moment, but I think I have something for this :3

Bo x grey reader

What a Fool

Tw: sfw, confused Bo, mention of future killings, mention of murder/using a person, lovely Bo at the end,

When you told Bo how you felt in the garage, he had to take a double take on you. He looked at you in a mixture of disbelief and... hurt? Why does his baby blue eyes look so hurt when you said you want to spend the rest of your life with him?

"Say that again, honey?" He asked, wiping his hands over his pants, oil stains on his face. He was working on a 2004 Jeep today, and the motor was giving him trouble. "I think the heat is gettin' to my head."

"I said," you take a breath, "I love you, Beauregard Sinclair." You felt butterflies fluttering around your stomach and head. The way the golden afternoon light touching his skin and his wrist made him look like a saint. "I love you so much it hurts sometimes."

The corner of his lips twitched as a goofy smile cracked. At first, you thought he was happy, but when he started laughing hard and held him stomach, your confidence fell. He looked at you, trying to keep a straight face, and laughed harder.

He wiped a tear from his eye. "Oh, y/n--what? Did Lester put you up to this? Goodness me, darlin'. You're the funniest human alive." Bo turned back to the jeep. "What a joke."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

You burst into tears, turning on your heels, and left the garage. You didn't mean to start crying, but a cry escaped your mouth as you ran out the garage, pushing Lester aside as he brought visitors to the station. Lester raised a brow at you then looked back at Bo, who was following you behind, confused as ever. The group--two girls and one guy--watched as you ran up the hill towards the house. You want to throw yourself on the closest thing like a Disney princess does in a moved when their love denies them. Is this what it feels like to be broken hearted?

One of the girls didn't stop watching you go until Bo said, "Don't mind 'em. They're actin' funny."

"I don't think they are, mister," the blonde said. "I've seen a broken hearted person, and that one," she thumbed over her shoulder, "just lost all of their love all at once."

The red head girl nodded. "Yeah, man. The hell did you do to them?"

Why don't you mind you own business? Bo wanted to snap, but he had to keep the good southern charm on. Maybe they won't do anything about it?

"It don't matter," Bo said, waving it off. "Y/n just said they love them."

Lester's eyes lit up like a puppy being given a bone. "Really? That's great!" He had the biggest smile on his face. "They were real nervous about it but I told 'em 'at y'all love 'em, too, Bo!"

Oh... no. "They weren't lyin'?"

Lester's not one for violence, but... "Wha did ya tell 'em, Bo?"

Bo's blood ran cold as he covered his mouth. Man, did he feel like a prick. "I thought they were jokin' an'--"

"Don't tell me you laughed at the poor thing!" The blonde said in disbelief. "Please say you didn't?"

"Yeah, I did." Why is Bo talking to the people he's going to kill? "I thought they were jokin' an' Les put 'em up to it!"

The man shook his head, clicking his tongue. "That's cold, brother."

"Ain't your brother," Bo snapped, pacing back to the counter then towards the group, covering his mouth. "Really fucked up 're."

"Yeah! Crashed and burned seems to sum it up," the red head said. She nodded at the door. "You should go after them and say your sorry."

The blonde nodded in agreement as she checked her phone. "Yeah, mister. If you go now, you can beat the rain." She then held up her phone. "Cause, like, it'll be cheesy as hell if your run through the rain to get to them."

Lester had to nod in agreement. "Yeah. Super cheesy."

Then the man held up a hand, asking, "But do you feel the same about them? Like, do you love them?" He shoved his hands back in his sweatshirt. "Because if you say it and not mean it, it'll be Oversvile for you."

"Brendon's right," the blonde girl said. "Because that could make this worse and you might lose a friend." She then looked at the red head and asked, "Remember Will did that, Macy?"

Macy, the red head, nodded. "He played me like a fucking room after that, Percy." She then looked at Bo. "You better figure it out, man."

Bo chewed the inside of his mouth as he placed his hands on his hips, thinking. What did he think of you? Sure, he would laugh with you, talk with you, sleep and hold you. Part of him wanted to kiss you when you dragged him outside to watch the fireflies dace over the wildflowers. The way you spun in the flowers as you tried to catch stars in your hand and held yourself so soft and gentle around them, your smile always warm. Cracking up laughing when Jonesy jumped up to lick your face made his heart swell like no other. Every time he was around you, he felt so calm and lighter. Bo's heart ached when you would curl up closer to him at night, hugging his wrists and scars with so much love. He hated when people looked at you wrong, and he hated when you were taken away from him just to talk to a group of people. When you fell down the spiral stairs and hurt your knee, he wanted to bend over backwards to make you stop crying. He hated to hear you cry, to see your sadness, to see your frown... He hated seeing you run out of the station, holding her face, crying. It felt like a bullet to the chest.

So, why did he laugh? What made him think that it was a joke?

Then it hit him: Trudy said it and never meant a word. The only love he's every felt was... was with you.

"Oh, shit," he said under his breath. "What did I do?" He then looked up at the group then at the door. He heard the soft rumbles of the thunder and flashes over the sky. Fuck the killings, fuck the group... he wanted you. Sweet, perfect, beautiful you.

Macy seemed to be reading his mind. She stepped aside, and held her arm out as a path to the door. "Well, get after it then!"

That was all he needed to hear. He hurried pass them and started up towards the house. The group be killed or not, it doesn't matter. You were in that damn house alone crying. What a fool he is! A damn fool! Here you were, in the shop, looking nice than normal, all dolled up for him, just for him, to ruin something that's been building up in his chest for weeks!

What a fool Bo Sinclair is.

*****************

"I'm an idiot, Vincent!" You sobbed in your pillow. He sat on the edge of your bed and rubbed your back. "A dumb, love, stupid-stupid idiot!"

You scared him when you slammed the door, causing him to drop his coffee mug of tea. It hurts seeing you cry, but it hurts more knowing your crying over his dumb twin. Vincent just wanted to hit Bo with the tow truck--

"Y/n?" Bo called from downstairs, closing the door. "Darlin'?"

"Go-go away!" You chocked out, yelling back down. "I-I don't wan-wanna talk to-to you!" You heard his boots coming up the steps as rain pattered against the glass. You hugged your pillow tighter as you cried.

When Bo saw this scene, his knees didn't feel right and he felt sick. He did this to you. He made you cry. Goods, he's like his father--

Vincent glared at Bo as he stood. His hands moved quickly. 'Talk to them. Y/n's hurt. Fix it.' He stops at the door then looks back at Bo. ‘Fix. It.’

Bo took a deep breath and nods as he brother past by him, his eyes lingering over your crying form. He took careful steps in your room and sat on the edge of the bed. He folded his hands as he listened to your tears. The hallow pit in his chest caved in faster as you flinched away from his hand touching your knee. He hated himself more. He hated himself more than anyone.

"Hey, darlin'," he hummed softly, his voice echoing inside his chest. "Wanna talk to ya."

"Why?" You sniffed. "What? You wanna laugh at me more?"

Those words were like daggers in his heart. "No, no, y/n-- I didn't mean to laugh."

You turned on your side and sat up. You brought your legs close to your chest. He brought his leg up on the bed and shook his head. "I told you that I fucking loved you," you wiped your face, "and you stood there and laughed at me, Bo."

Thunder rumbled against the roof. "I didn't mean to, honest."

Your eyes were so red and puffy that he didn't want to look at you. "What am I to you, Beauregard?"

"What do ya mean--"

"What. Am. I. To. You?" You didn't mean to sound tired or angry. You didn't mean to curl your fingers into a fist. "Tell me. What?" You used your arm as a tissue to wipe away the snot. "Do you see me as a play thing? Want me in-in the basement like the rest?"

He felt disgusted. "No, no!" The near thought of you strapped down in some place horrifying like that nearly broke him.

"Then what am I to you?" You snapped, making him jump at the suddenness. "Am I a joke? A dumb person you thought it'll be fun to play with?" Then something clicked and your mind didn't want to go there, but it did. Your body started to shake. "Are you waiting for the perfect moment to kill me?"

Lightning flashed over his eyes, his blood running cold. Your voice being defeated. Your heart breaking in his hands all because he laughed? Calling them a joke? You. Perfect you. Breaking for a damaged Bo. Why? Why are you doing this to him? His arms reached around you and pulled you into a tight embrace. He held your head against his chest, his hand covering the back of your head protectively. You could hear his heart hammering against his chest.

You struggled against his grip to wiggle free, but it felt so safe, so loving. Luckily, your struggling failed as you cried in his arms. He hushed you softly, kissing the top of your head.

"Wanna know wha' you are to me?" He whispered as rain pattered like bullets. "Yer my first thought every morn. My last thought every night. Yer the reason I git outta bed to mak' coffee. I-I fucking live to hear ya say 'good mornin' ' to me, and it drives me crazy when ya don't say it." He held your head up and cupped your cheek. You were looking up at his beautiful eyes. Those baby blues that made you hit the ground harder. "I thin' 'bout ya when I work on the cars. I thin' 'bout ya when I smoke, wonderin' if yer cooking or bakin'. Shit," he couldn't help but chuckle at thought, "I've said yer name out loud with my last name: Y/n Sinclair." He blushes. "An' it has a good rin' to it, yeah?" You found yourself nodding. He rested his head in your hair, smelling the flowery shampoo you used this morning. "I don't know what ya did to me, and I like it, y/n," he looks down at you. "I like ya a lot."

"So," you hiccuped. "You love me?"

"I love you doesn’t begin to express what I feel for you, darlin' y/n," he answered, laughing. There's a sparkle in his eyes when he asked, "Mind if I show you how much I love ya?"

You managed a nod as your cheeks flushed red.

He leaned down, brushing your lips gently with his rough thumb, and kisses you. His lips were cracked, but they felt like the softest pillows under you. The storm under your skin calmed when you pulled yourself closer, running your hands over his shirt sleeves, tugging him closer. He held your back up as he deepen the kiss. He took you in as if you were the last glass of cold water in July. His head spun as the thoughts of you twirling in the ran sent his mind a blaze, taking you as you were, putting his mama's ring on your finger to forever call you his.

"I love you, Beauregard Sinclair," you breathed against his lips.

He smiled against your skin. "Say it again?"

"I love you, Beauregard Sinclair." And you would say it until your dying breath.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair x gender neutral reader #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x gn reader #house of wax (2005) #house of wax fandom #house of wax fanfic #house of wax fanfiction #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #beauregard sinclair #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #slasher fanfic #slasher fanfiction #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair

[idesofrevolution]

A Day at the Track

Damn that smile. That adorable, sexy smile. One flash of it and I was hooked. I never knew what that innocent little smirk would have in store for me. Not that I didn’t enjoy every last minute of what came after. It would change me forever. Quite literally.

I’ll be the first to say that I wasn’t ever interested in motocross. But when opportunity knocks, you take the first chance you can get. So when I was offered a summer gig working at the track, I sniped it as quick as I could. It was just something until I could get a decent job, anyway. The track was loud, beat up, filled with white trash people and mosh pits. It was not my type of crowd, but it paid well at 11.50/hr. All I had to do was pretty much do whatever the rider asked me to do. I had worked there for three months, and worked with 15 riders before I was offered a job as the office manager at a tax place downtown. No more shitty racetrack job.

I put in my notice, and went to what I thought would be my last rider. That’s when I met Cash. That’s right, the Cash Rockford. As in the 6-time champion motocross rider. He was 22 years old, cocky as all hell, and plowed everything in sight; even the competition. It didn’t take me long to realize just how cocky Cash was, all I had to do was walk into his tent.

He was nowhere to be seen, but that didn’t mean I didn’t see him. Posters of himself were plastered all over the canvas walls. A stack of autographed pictures sat on a table, next to all six of his top prize awards. Hawkstone. Hangtown. The biggest and most dangerous competitions in the Motocross world. As I looked around the empty tent, two white gloved hands covered my mouth and wrapped around my stomach.

“Guess who?” I felt hot breath on the back of my neck, sending goosebumps all down my spine. I pulled free, and spun around to see Cash, alive and looking rather beaten up after his first race, which I imagine he won. Fuck he was cute, I knew he was a complete asshat, but the sight of him sure made me stir a bit. “Whassup, brother?” He walked past me, tossing his helmet to the side, and laying down on his cot.

“Sorry I missed your first race, did you find everything okay?” I offered him a water bottle, which he gladly took, downing it in one try. He tossed the bottle to the side, and let out a huge belch.

“Yeah, man. Kind of a smaller tent than I’m used to.” He shifted a bit, before patting the seat next to him. “Here, sit down bro.” None of the other riders had ever extended an offer to sit down. It was unusual, but i didn’t want him to give grief to my boss. I’d hear about it, and I really wanted to keep him as a reference, so I obliged and sat down on the cot. The minute my butt touched the fabric, he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to a laying position right beside him. “Dude, relax. Take a load off.” I was uncomfortable, but secretly turned on by how aggressive he was. This guy knew exactly what he wanted, and made it happen. “So, listen. I know you’ve heard of me, so, yeah. It’s all good, I’ll give you an autograph or whatever. But gimme a second, I just gotta lay around for a minute.” He put his arms behind his head and closed his eyes, probably waiting for me to praise and worship him.

“I don’t actually know you. I don’t watch motocross.” He shot up and raised an eyebrow at me, clearly intrigued.

“Really? This is a first. You never got interested in the thrill of the bike?” I shook my head. “Never wanted to wear the helmet and leathers? Never wanted to get all the redneck babes you could handle? Never wanted to make shit tons of money for riding on pure adrenaline?” Well, when he put it that way, it did sound rather interesting. I guess it could be pretty fun. I didn’t have much time to reflect, though, before he pinned me down, and straddled me with a playful grin on that adorable cocky face. “Tell ya what, I’ll give ya a taste. If you like it, we can ride together. I need a partner for the sidecar race anyway.” I could do nothing but nod, completely taken in by the situation at hand.

Cash grabbed my throat, lightly choking me, and came real close to me. I felt that hot breath again, now on my ear, before he bit at the lobe ever so slightly. It was then that I began to smell his scent. He doused himself in Old Spice, that really good smelling island type, and beneath it all was the intense, sweaty musk that comes out of a hard race in the summer heat. He smelled like no one I’d ever encountered. It was intoxicating. He let go of my neck only to rip off his white gloves, and unzip his leathers. His body glistened with sweat, beads trailing down his smooth, lean body. He kicked his boots off, and straddled me with only his black underwear on.

“C’mon boy. I know you like it.” He ripped my shirt from my body, as I kicked off my pants. He began to lean in, and went straight for the kill. I felt his wet, sticky skin touch mine, and his silky lips locked with mine. Grinding his damp briefs against my raging boner, and literally sucking my tongue out of my mouth, precum began to seep out of my stretched boxers.

We made out for what felt like hours, before I felt completely covered in his sexy, musky sweat. He may have had the Old Spice to cover up the smell, but I had nothing of the kind. I smelled like a wet dog, I’m sure, but I loved every minute of it. He suddenly broke our session, and sat up straight. He slowly slid off his boxers, revealing his hard, uncut cock. He grasped it and ran his tip over the sweaty appendage.

“Hey, I always had this thing for guys putting my gear on…” He leaned over and grabbed his helmet, and handed it to me. “Put it on, babe.” I did as I was ordered, and placed the helmet onto my head. I thought he smelled, but I hadn’t tried on his helmet. It stunk to high hell of sweat. It was 91 degrees out that day, so it was sopping wet with his perspiration. “Yeah, that’s so hot, babe.” He began to rub his bubble butt against my throbbing member, while his fingers twisted my nipples. He was a damn good fuck… “Put the suit on.” He ordered, and I obliged.

He rolled off me for the time being, but began to run his hands down my treasure trail, before slipping under my waistband. I gasped as I felt his slick hands touch my cock, sliding up and down beneath my pre-soaked briefs. I grabbed the suit, and as smoothly as I could, slid my feet into the legs. The heavy, wet fabric stuck to my skin as my feet and legs slid into it, before my feet poked out the ends. I pulled up the suit and slipped my arms into the sleeves, coating them in a thick smear of slimy sweat.

“Oh fuck yeah, babe. That’s so fuckin hot. You like wearing my sweaty, stinky leathers?” I nodded, gasping and moaning from his hands pumping my delicate cock. “You like how leathers feel, don’t ya?” I nodded again, inhaling a deep whiff of the musky helmet. He grabbed his boots from the floor, and slid them on my bare feet. They were still hot, damp from his rank, dirty feet. “Yeah, you like that. You like feelin’ like this.” I felt surges of energy throughout me, like I drank four energy drinks and an espresso. I was ravenous, and every passing moment I got more ravenous. He slid my underwear off from inside the unzipped suit, and began sucking. I instinctively picked up the gloves from beside me and slipped them on, my hands feeling every ounce of his fluids and essence coating me.

To the outside world, I looked like Cash Rockford. A guy in bike leathers getting his cock sucked by some hot person. I began to feel like Cash Rockford, with confidence and cockiness swelling up inside me. I grasped the back of his head and began to thrust it down, spearing it on my engorged cock. I began to think like Cash Rockford, enjoying the rush of adrenaline, enjoying the pleasure of my wet dick in a mouth. I loved it. I loved all of it. I thought of riding my bike up the steep jumps and curved banks. Feeling the sweat pour down my brow as the sun bears down on my airborne body.

The pleasure of this revelation became too much, and I shot the biggest load of my life down Cash’s throat. I howled like a wolf, deep and guttural, the sound ringing in my head. Cash looked up at me, and gasped for breath before zipping the suit up, and straddling me once more.

“There, babe. You don’t have to dream it anymore. Just do it.” He ripped the helmet from me, revealing my new sexy face. My chiseled jawline, low brows, and plump lips were enough to make any woman or man jizz upon sight. He ran his hands down my thick, muscled body, hidden under his dirt-stained leathers. I smirked and grabbed his cum-covered face and dragged it into a kiss, thankful for my new life.

These days I spend most of my time with him on the road. We compete in sidecar competitions, and even against eachother every once in a while. He may not admit it, but I’m gettin’ to be just as good as he is. I love the bike. I love the thrill. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

#male transformation #body transformation #jockification #original #transformation #musk #musky #feet #gay transformation #male tf #leathers transformation #motocross transformation #motocross #biker tf

[hadeantaiga]

People calling me a "gender defender just like the patriarchy is" is fucking hilarious.

"Gender" the way I use it is so, so far from its original definition. It is the word I'm using to mean "personal identity".

I'm here for the people who don't want a gender at ALL, who want to define their personal identity WITHOUT that word. I'm here to tear the concept of gender away from the patriarchy and pull it apart into a trillion pieces. No more gender roles! No more sex stereotypes!

I want the idea of what it means to have a gender to be personally defined by every individual who wants one. I want no woman or man or non-binary person to be the same. I want the biggest, gruffest dude you've ever seen to say he's an asexual nonbinary woman, and the femmest delicate dame to say she's a bi-lesbian man. I want no one to be able to guess your sex assigned at birth just by looking at you. What's in your pants? Mystery!

I'm here for body modification, HRT, surgery, all that shit. You wanna get elf ears? Sure! You want breast implants, a full body lizard tattoo, phalloplasty, and dermal implants? Hell yes. Full bodily autonomy is what I support.

I'm here for the neopronouns and nounself pronouns and xenogenders. I'm here for people identifying with the gender euphoria of clouds and trees. Fuck, half of the time I describe myself as "masculine like a misty mountain forest". I'm forest-gender. I'm they/them like the Pando Forest (a forest of aspen "trees" that are all technically one tree). I'm he/him like the snow you see walking through the woods when there's orange skyglow everywhere. I'm "it/its" like how you call the deer you see through the trees as you hush the person you're walking with - "Shhh- do you see it? Look!“

You know who hates this kind of shit? Transphobic radfems. Transphobic gender critical feminists. I think the original trans gender abolitionists would be on board with me, but that term has been stolen by a lot of terfs, radfems, and the GCers. That's why I use "gender liberation", to differentiate myself from transphobia.

I assure you, the patriarchy does not approve of any of this shit either, and while I use the word "gender" to mean "personal identity", I promise that the things I think "gender" encompasses is in defiance of anything the patriarchy would approve of.

The patriarchy only approves of two binary genders, that are rigidly based on birth sex, and are unchangeable. They believe being male makes you strong, and being female makes you weak. Their version of gender is based on those stereotypes about birth sexes, and comes with precise roles, behaviors, and places within a social hierarchy all based on your birth sex and the traits they think that biology gives you.

Transphobic radfems, terfs, and gender critical feminists also believe in two binary sexes that are rigidly based on birth sex and are unchangeable. Some of them believe just like the patriarchy that your birth sex determines your behaviors, that males are "inherently" violent, and females are "inherently" weaker. In fact, they believe that these biological qualities are WHY men invented the patriarchy in the first place: it's baked into their biology to oppress women. That's why so many of them are female separatists or female supremacists.

That is not what I'm here for. But I sure see a whole lot in common between the patriarchy and transphobic feminists.

#gender #gender identity #personal identity #gender abolition #gender liberation #transgender #feminism #revolutionary feminism

[goatcheesecak3]

Sleepyheads

Adam Stanheight x F!reader (ft. Scott Tibbs)

fic type: fluff

warnings: alcohol

summary: your boyfriend, Adam comes home from a night of Drinking with his best friend, Scott, and it's up to you to babysit them.

Dating Adam Stanheight was an interesting experience, to put it in simple terms. You’d known him as a friend for a while, and in that time he was a rather loud and lairy character, never not out raising hell with his best friend, Scott Tibbs. However, one night after attending a show together, Adam had crashed at your apartment. One on one, he was more gentle, his rough edges seemed sanded down and soft to the touch. It was like a dog that always has it’s hackles up letting you stroke it for the first time. Ever since you’d seen that side of Adam, you’d had a soft spot for him, and he you. It wasn’t long after that that the two of you started dating.

A few months down the road, Adam had invited you to come to one of Scott’s gigs, but feeling groggy from working late the night before, you instead opted to stay home and get an early night. It had been agreed that once the gig was over, Adam would come round to sleep at your apartment, since you lived closer and it saved money for a taxi. Which brings us up to speed.

Curled up in bed, you heard the front door to your apartment open, followed by heavy inconsiderate footsteps from large black boots. A pair of ebrious voices cackled at something, before one of them blurted out

“yo, seriously, Adam, you hit the jackpot with y/n, I mean, look at how nice this place is”

It would have appeared that Adam had brought Scott along with him.

You were never Scott’s biggest fan, but you had to admit, that comment made you smile. Scott wasn’t the type to be complimentary, especially when it came to the matter of his friends having partners. He thought guys went all soft and stopped being fun once they got into relationships, so it was a surprise to hear him say that his best friend of all time had “hit the jackpot” with you, even if it was just because you had a nice home.

“I’m telling you, dude, she’s the best. Always got like, snacks and shit for me, it always smells nice in here and- man, feel how soft this couch is” you heard Adam respond, accompanied by two hefty thuds as their bodies hit the sofa, followed by some sleepy and satisfied groans at how comfy the sofa was on their tired bones.

You decided that, as much as this was entertaining, you’d never get to sleep if you let those idiots stay up all night testing out your furniture, so instead you did what you knew best: babysit drunk punk guys until they fall asleep. You headed down the hall into the living room where Adam immediately rose to his feet excitedly, grabbing you and pulling you into a drunken embrace.

“y/n! I missed you, baby- aw shit did we wake you up? I’m sorry, baby I jus-” you interrupted him with a peck on the lips, he had a tendency to ramble when he was drunk.

“It’s fine, babe” you tuned your attention towards Scott (who appeared to be prodding a basket of potpourri that sat on your coffee table, clearly he had no idea what the hell it was), “Scott, do you wanna stay here tonight? You don’t look sober enough to walk home”

“see dude! I told you she’d be okay with it, isn’t y/n just the best” Adam grinned excitedly, squeezing your waist and swaying a little to keep his balance.

“Thanks, y/n” Scott said, his tone far more upbeat than you were used to. “y’know, I’m glad you’re dating Adam. I guess you’re  kinda cool- and Adam’s way less of an uptight asshole now that he’s getting laid”

Adam kicked Scott’s shins as you rolled your eyes with a slight chuckle. That was the closest you’d ever gotten to a compliment from Scott.

“You boys just sit down for a minute, alright? I’ll go see if I’ve got any microwave pizzas or something to help you sober up” you said, helping a very inebriated and clumsy Adam back onto the sofa. He sort of toppled onto Scott, and you could hear the pair of them giggling like schoolboys about something or other as you made your way to the kitchen.

Adam and Scott had been best friends since they were 5 years old, and that was clear to anyone who spent any amount of time in the same room as them. Separately, Adam was quite reserved and Scott was aloof and a bit miserable, but together they were like happy little children. As you watched two mini pizzas turning around in the microwave, it was hard for you to picture to punk guys in their mid twenties drinking beer and talking about boobs sitting on your sofa, when the sound of their childlike sniggering and petty teasing rung throughout the apartment. It was sweet, in a way.

After a few minutes had passed, you brought out the two pizzas on a plate ready to hand to them, only to be met with an adorable sight. Both men were passed out, Scott’s head thrown back snoring loudly, his arm around Adam, who had been resting his head on Scott’s chest. They were out cold.

You placed the plate on the coffee table for them to discover in the morning, and pulled an old blanket over the sleepy friends. You stopped to take in the sweet moment, before picking up Adam’s camera and snapping a quick picture to embarrass them with at some point. Then, finally you headed to bed and got some well deserved rest.

#saw #leigh whannell #adam stanheight #saw 2004 #sawposting #adam faulkner stanheight #adam stanheight x reader #scott tibbs #scott tibbs x reader #rustynailshipping #x f!reader #x you #fluff

[parkitaco]

byler 50 for the ask game i need this for reasons

Will Byers is good with secrets.

He hasn't had much of a choice, honestly, given the types of secrets he has. When he was younger, his biggest secret was liking boys. Then it was liking one boy, specifically, and then it was monsters and hell dimensions and government-issued secrets that he legally wasn't allowed to tell anyone. He'd never admit this, but those secrets were far easier to keep than the first two. He’s spent a good portion of his days learning how to keep quiet, how to omit information when necessary, how to keep his lies, on the rare occasions that he needs them, simple and believable.

(Okay, there had been one exception to the simple and believable thing, last year in that godforsaken van, but that was an outlier, okay? He’d been overtired and probably contact high and Mike had been freaking the fuck out, so he’d- he’d gone a little overboard with that one. Whatever. Everything turned out fine in the end - better than fine, even.)

Mike Wheeler, on the other hand, is not so good at keeping secrets. 

Will chalks most of this up to his boyfriend’s general lack of a filter - Mike has never shied away from saying what he’s thinking, and a lot of the time, what he’s thinking happens to be terribly incriminating. He knows that Mike has had to keep secrets too - secrets that, as it turns out, line up almost exactly with the ones Will’s been keeping. And to his credit, Mike had managed to keep most of those for a decent amount of time, but the ways in which he kept them were significantly- well, there was a lot less delicacy, in Mike’s case. 

Will doesn’t blame him for any of it, of course, because he knows how Mike’s brain works and knows that he doesn’t mean any harm, but it does make being his boyfriend - more specifically, his secret boyfriend - a bit tricky.

Like right now, for instance. They’re sitting in the basement with the rest of the Party, and Mike’s all curled up against Will’s side in an entirely incriminating manner. He’s also wearing Will’s sweater, which he could maybe have gotten away with under normal circumstances, but throw in the fact that this is the third time this week that he’s showed up in public wearing Will’s clothes, and- well, Will’s pretty sure the Party’s onto them at this point anyway.

“Mike, what do you think?” Dustin asks, and Mike stirs against Will’s side, blinking blearily at him.

“About what?” he asks absently, shifting and wriggling closer to Will, who is barely suppressing an eye roll.

Lucas looks like he’s on the verge of laughter. “Dude, were you listening at all? We’re trying to decide what movie to watch.”

“Oh,” Mike hums, and Will can feel the sound from where Mike’s chest is tucked up against his arm. “Uh, whatever you guys want, I don’t care.”

At this, the entire Party levels him with matching looks of concern - even Will glances down at him with an eyebrow raised.

“You don’t care,” Max repeats slowly, staring at him like he’s sprouted a second head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not have an opinion on something.”

Mike’s face flushes adorably red, and he looks like he’s seconds away from hiding his face away against Will’s shoulder, which would probably seal their fate as the most obvious couple of all time. Will elbows him, bugging his eyes out, and Mike clears his throat quickly as he sits up a little straighter, less like he’s curling as close to Will as he can get, which was, of course, exactly what he was doing. It’s still not- an entirely platonic position, with Mike’s thigh still pressed flush against Will’s and his fingers brushing Will’s where his hand rests on his knee, like he’s fighting the urge to thread their fingers together, but it’s- well, it’s a slight improvement. Even if Will’s side is now upsettingly cold where Mike was just leaned up against it. 

“I’m, uh,” Mike starts, and Will immediately thinks oh, no, “I’m focused on more important things.”

Will resists the urge to bury his face in his hands. 

“What sort of important things?” El asks, looking entirely amused, and Will glares at her, willing her to stop talking.

“Um,” Mike says, looking more flustered by the moment. “You know. I was thinking about- world peace. College applications. The future. My history project due on Monday. How to get my Spanish grade up. The SATs. What to do about-”

“Okay,” Will cuts in, sensing an onslaught of true Mike Wheeler word vomit brewing, and he reaches over with one hand to clamp his palm over Mike’s mouth. “We get it, Mike.”

Mike looks, for all intents and purposes, entirely relieved at the interruption, and he slumps back against Will’s side, because clearly he’s learned nothing from the past few minutes. “We should watch Star Wars,” he says against Will’s palm, the sound muffled from the contact, and it’s all Will can do to repress the shudder that runs through him at the feeling of Mike’s lips moving against his palm. 

He must see the expression on Will’s face, or something, because all at once a gleeful glint appears in Mike’s eyes, and he presses his lips more flush against Will’s hand, kissing it firmly, because clearly he’s trying to give Will a heart attack.

Thankfully, the rest of the Party doesn’t seem to notice, having gone back to squabbling over movie options as soon as Mike stopped talking, and for once in his life Will is grateful for his friends’ short attention spans. Even so, he retracts his hand, sending Mike a burning glare that is probably entirely undercut by the blush in his cheeks, and Mike grins proudly to himself, turning to face the screen as it flickers to life. His leg presses against Will’s, firm and purposeful, and Will allows himself to be a little bit stupid about it when he presses back, biting his lip to hide a smile.

Mike’s pinky finger links through his, and Will forgets to worry.

It’s only later, when they’re standing in the kitchen together after the Party leaves, throwing out the last of the trash from downstairs and placing the popcorn bowl in the sink, that Will decides to make fun.

“I can’t believe you,” he says, shaking his head good-naturedly as he wets a sponge and begins scrubbing at the stubborn butter stains on the inside of the popcorn bowl. “Your Spanish grade, Mike, really?”

“Hey, I was doing my best!” Mike yelps, shoving the empty Dorito bag onto top of the already-full garbage can and walking over to stand beside Will at the sink. “You were no help.”

“I wasn’t the problem,” Will murmurs, smirking and not looking up from the bowl. 

Mike glances down, watching him scrub at it. “You don’t have to do that,” he says, reaching over to tug the sponge out of Will’s hand, and Will gives him a look even as his fingers go slack and he turns to face Mike, one hip pressed against the counter. “And don’t you want to know what I was actually thinking about?”

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say that it was-”

“I was thinking about you,” Mike interrupts before Will can finish being sarcastic, dropping the sponge unceremoniously on the counter and twisting around to mirror Will’s position, hand pressing against the top of Will’s against the counter.

Will presses down a smile. “You don’t say.”

“I was thinking,” Mike continues, not noticing Will’s facetious tone, or maybe he just doesn’t care, which is probably more likely, “about what it would be like to not think twice about sitting next to you on movie nights, and I was thinking about how much I like cuddling with you on the couch and how I want to do that all the time, and I was thinking- that I love you, basically.”

It’s nothing Will hasn’t heard from Mike before, but his face flushes anyway, and he shifts a little closer, the hand that’s not gripping the counter rising up to cup the side of Mike’s neck. “I love you too,” he says. “And- we will get to do those things. Eventually. Just- not right now.”

“Not right now,” Mike agrees, bobbing his head, because really, the whole secret thing had mostly been Mike’s idea in the first place. It’s almost funny, how in the beginning, Mike was the scared one who wanted to keep them a secret, and Will who willingly obliged, maybe a little selfishly, because he wanted Mike Wheeler all to himself for a little while, but this whole time, Will is the one who’s been better at hiding. Mike’s ready to stop hiding now, probably, if this conversation is any indication - almost, anyway. They’ll get there soon. Plus, the Party definitely already knows, so that takes some of the pressure off.

“You’re so pretty,” Mike murmurs, tilting his forehead to press against Will’s, and Will’s flush deepens, a pleased smile spreading across his face. “Have I told you that?”

“Yes,” Will laughs, as Mike’s free arm wraps around his waist and tugs him in closer, chests bumping.

“Oh,” Mike says, grinning teasingly, “Well, have I also told you that you’re my favorite person ever? And that you’re the smartest and bravest person I know, and that I’m so lucky to have you, and that-”

“Okay,” Will says for the second time tonight, laughing quietly, and he brings up the hand that’s been pressed against the counter and presses his fingertips against Mike’s lips gently. “I appreciate it, Mike, I really do, but I kind of really need you to shut up right now.”

“Why?” Mike asks around his fingers, feigning a pout, and Will grins as he slips his hand away from Mike’s face to cup the back of his neck instead.

“So I can do this,” Will murmurs, and tugs him in sharply, pressing their lips together firmly, and whatever fake-complaint Mike had locked and loaded seems to vanish instantly, his grip on Will loose and relaxed as he smiles into the kiss. He tastes sweet, like buttered popcorn and candy, these moments always made a little more special by the fact that they don’t get very many of them. Will would like to kiss Mike Wheeler more often that he does, maybe, like, all the time, actually, and the possibility that he could actually have that sometime soon has him smiling against Mike’s mouth and curling a hand through his hair, gentle and loving and sweet.

“You know,” Mike says against his mouth, pulling back a little, “If you had just said so, I would have stopped talking way sooner-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Will interrupts, hazy and kissed red and needing to be kissed again immediately. “Shut up, shut up, shut up-”

“Okay,” Mike says, and when Will goes in for another kiss, he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

#you're so right anon ty for this (50 - putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up) #byler ficlet #byler #established relationship #secret relationship #mike wheeler #will byers #the party

[nikkisheep]

Jerk

Steve Harrington x Hargrove!reader

Warnings: mentions of Billy fighting, mentions of drinking, mentions of blood, billy being soft, fluff

Summary: Billy is seen as super mean and tough, but what happens when someone from the team finds him being soft with his sister?

Requested by @manyfandomsfanvergent

Billy Hargrove, the new heartthrob in the high school. Your older brother. He was a sight for the sore eyes of many girls who were single or taken. It didn't matter. Everyone wanted a piece of the new boy in town.

Billy was your typical mean guy who gets stuck in a small town with nothing better to do than fight, drink, and party. It was his specialty to throw the biggest parties of the year and have everyone drunk in a few hours. You were kind of like Billy. The partying, the guys wanting you, everyone curious about you.

That's how you ended up dating Steve Harrington. He and your brother never got along but when it came to you, everything was okay. As long as Steve didn't hurt you. Steve only ever did what you wanted him to do. He was a gentleman, contradicting the rumors of him being King Steve. He changed.

So Billy would get into fights, one being with your boyfriend when he was drunk. Another was so bad that the guy had to go to the hospital downtown. He ended up with 37 stitches and a bloody nose. Billy mostly fought when he heard people, mostly guys, talking shit about you. How much they want a piece of you or whatever. The moment your name comes out of their mouths with anything ill toward you, it gave him the green light.

---

Basketball practice had just started when you came into the gym with a friend. Billy turned to you and he smiled. Most of the guys missed it. Not Brad. No, Brad noticed and he was going to dig into Billy about it. It was weird for Billy to be nice. The only thing is, Brad had never met you nor did he know that you were Billy's sister.

You waved for Billy to come over so you could tell him you were leaving with your friend, Vanessa so you could go to the mall. He shot once more and then jogged over to you. Brad stopped the guys and they all watched as you two were talking and smiling. Billy looks like he is listening to everything you say and laughs.

"Why the hell have we stopped?" Steve asks, walking over to James.

"Look, Billy got another girl thirsting after him."

"Huh?"

Billy wrapped his arms around your shoulders and drew you in for a hug. He whispered something in your ear and you laughed before slapping his shoulder. He let you go by pushing you in the brotherly way and you were off. Billy came back with a smile before it disappeared at the guys talking to each other.

"Dude, leave him alone. What is fucking wrong with you?" Steve whispered-yelled.

"Dude, chill. It's just weird seeing him happy and shit."

"He just being himself."

"Being himself? Billy beat the shit out of me like three days ago. That ain't normal."

"You wouldn't know because you do not go to his house like I do." Steve turns away from Brad and leaves.

"What you want?" Billy said.

"We saw you flirting with that girl," Brad smirked.

"Ew. Gross."

"What? She's hot."

"Dude, that is my sister."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Nah, you good man." Billy said before throwing a punch square in the boy's face. He fell to the ground and Billy climbed on top of him, punching him in the face.

"Billy, stop. Billy," Steve pulled him off.

"Walk it off man, let's just get back to practice."

"Don't fucking talk about my little sister."

Billy turned to the other guys, "So let's get to it."

Brad was bleeding on the floor but no one wanted to help because they didn't want Billy to fight them. Billy started dribbling the ball when he smiled at Steve.

"Let's get ready to win this game,'' He said before making a lay up.

#billy hargrove x sister reader #billy hargove imagine #protective billy #billy hargrove #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x hargrove!reader #billy hargrove fluff #steve harrington fluff #requests #requests open

[biillyhargroves]

listen, I hear all of your “Argyle arrives in Hawkins stoked to see Max only to learn about Billy’s death” and all that jazz. it has caused me great anguish. but have you considered:

Argyle arrives in Hawkins all, “Hey, it’s Mad Max!” - which, yes, is a nickname he picked up from all the times Billy used it - and giving her the biggest bear hug, all excited because he hasn’t seen her in years and he’s always loved Billy’s spitfire little sister. He’s talking a mile a minute, telling her all about his adventures with the secret agent men and the crazy helicopters and religious super genius computer hacker and her kickass older sister. And Max is just! Delighted by it! She’s missed Argyle and all his quirks. She’s soaking up this little bit of home that the Byers brought back with them.

And then Argyle starts to settle down, and he lets Max and Jonathan introduce him to everyone, but you can tell that he’s expecting to see someone else. He keeps looking around as if counting heads, because surely someone is missing, and once he’s sure he’s shook every hand he’s like, “Max, amiga, where’s your brother at? Billy the Kid too cool for all of you, huh? I bet that’s it.”

Max’s face falls and she tells him, “Not exactly.” She looks at Steve, doesn’t have to say a word. Steve knows what she’s asking and he’s already starting up the car. Max tells Argyle, “We’ll explain on the way.”

Off they go to some super locked-down wing of the hospital, a makeshift mini-lab made up just for Billy after he’d been rescued from the Upside Down. Max tells Argyle everything: the Demogorgons, the Mind Flayer, Billy sacrificing himself. “Damn, manita, I always knew your bro was badass, but that’s some next-level shit right there.”

Steve covers the rest, tells Argyle about getting stuck in the Upside Down- “You mean the mind fight arena that freaky girl dipped into?” -and finding Billy there, how he’d been real fucked up, and how the secret agent people, in Argyle’s terms, swooped in and whisked him off to the hospital.

“Damn,” says Argyle, who just days ago thought the weirdest thing that had ever happened to him was a particularly funky ‘shrooms trip. “Is he okay, though? I mean, Billy, he’s one tough dude. He’s okay, right? All things considered?”

“He’ll be okay.” Max has to force the words out, because up until now her brother had been d-e-a-d dead as a doornail and she’s still pinching herself, still convincing herself that all of this is real.

They make up some excuse to get Argyle in to see Billy. “He’s a cousin,” Max explains, “from California. He flew in as soon as he heard.” The guards don’t quite buy it, but Max is there every damn day and a pleading phone call from Max to Doc Owens seals the deal. In they go.

Billy’s sedated, for his own sake. The Starcourt injuries healed, but without medical attention the scarring is nasty and everything’s a bit…well, fucked up. Not to mention the months he spent in an unfettered hell dimension with zero protection, no access to medicine, you get the picture. He’s thinner than Argyle remembers. His head’s been shaved, leads attached monitoring brain activity. He’s bruised up and scarred up more than Argyle thought a person could be. But he’s still Billy. Argyle goes right up to him, grabs his hand and starts to tell him how much he’s missed him, how much Billy’s missed back home, all the crazy stuff that’s gone down, because no matter what, freaky-deaky Upside Down shit and all, he’s still Billy.

#ANYWAY #stranger things #argyle #max mayfield #billy hargrove #steve harrington #argilly

[ironwhoore]

c’mon man that’s not cool. (steve harrington x fem!hopper!reader)

you and steve were walking throughout starcourt mall hand in hand,

"so you and steve have been going out for a month and your dad hasn't figured it out?" robin asks, she knows your dad is no idiot so she's surprised he's completely oblivious to such a thing.

"i have a feeling he knows, he's been acting weird whenever i have him over."

"you never have just me over." steve huffs,

"awww is stevie gonna be okay?" you tease, grabbing both sides of his face with one hand and squishing his cheeks.

eddie and robin snort while steve rolls his eyes grabbing your hand off his face,

"would we get killed if we went to your house?" steve switches topics.

"i mean, all four of us should just walk in together, i think your dad would rather have all of us over than just steve," robin suggests,

"i mean that's not a bad idea." y/n shrugs,

~~~

surprisingly, hopper let all of y/n’s friends stay but steve and eddie had to leave by 9.

"so you have hatred towards your little sister's boyfriend?" robin asks, furrowing her brows.

"i don't hate anyone-"

"besides jason carver and billy hargrove," eddie cuts in,

"besides jason carver and billy hargrove." y/n agrees, "but mike is totally only telling el these things to fuck with me! i’m telling you, steve."

"okay, but do you actually think el would snitch on you, babe? if i had a secret i'm putting my bets on the person with fucking superpowers to keep it,"

"what does her having superpowers have to do with anything?" eddie questions.

"y'know," steve does el's hand thing, and starts shaking his hand and grunting.

"what the hell are you doing?" a voice asks beside steve, it was hopper. beer in hand, staring at the group of teens at the dining room table,

"it's not obvious?” steve gawks,

"it looks like your hand is cramping." another voice says, it was el. she walks out of her room and frowns,

"it's your hand thing!"

"OH!" y/n exclaims, "she does it way better dude."

"i do it better than both of them actually." eddie states, this results in the next 15 minutes being steve and eddie seeing who can replicate el's pose better.

"i think i do it better because my hand doesn't look like it's having a muscle spasm. are you like 80 years old? why do your hands shake so much?" eddie and steve are arguing,

"i think we should take a vote," robin cuts in after the two boys were arguing about who won the ‘contest’.

"left hand for eddie," robin says in a british accent,

robin and el raise their left hands.

"right hand for sir harrington,"

hopper and y/n raise their right hands,

"anything but me right hop?" eddie asks,

"anything, but you." he eyes y/n and eddie suspiciously, y/n doesn't notice and gets something out of her bag,

"el I got your candy by the way,"

"but i didn't even have to cover for-"

"it's fine!" y/n says quickly and nervously, throwing the bag of sour patch kids to el, who catches it confused. hopper raises a brow, but steve notices this and quickly changes the topic,

"what were you saying about mike, y/n?"

el pulls a surprised face and gives her sister a look to carry on,

"all I'm saying is that mike comes over way too much and is practically corrupting el." y/n says quickly, hopper adopts an i-totally-think-the-same-thing-look and a smug smile,

"i happen to think the same thing."

"no dad you want to banish mike, i think el should be able to go to mike's sometimes and hang out instead of having just having him over. el should be given a bit more freedom, i could take them out when I'm going out, i mean everyone goes to starcourt and nothings gonna happen there, we would totally snitch on them."

at this el looks at hopper with a very hopeful look,

"you will not be going over to mike's, but i do trust your sister enough to take you two out. but you have to be at least within eyesight of her."

el smiles the biggest smile hopper or y/n have ever seen,

"okay!" el hurries towards the phone to call mike,

"and you," hopper points at y/n and eddie, "do you two really think i'm stupid?"

"um what?" y/n questions, taking a sip of her coke,

"you and eddie. you're dating."

y/n spits out her coke,

"WHAT?"

eddie bursts out in laughter,

"WE ARE NOT DATING DAD!"

steve looked very unimpressed in his chair by an amused robin,

"she's dating someone but not me." eddie chuckles, who quickly realizes what he said and pulls a oopsies look,

"DUDE!" steve and y/n say in unison,

hopper goes wide eyed,

"you're not dating eddie?"

"no!" she exclaims, her face was probably the reddest it's ever been.

"oh thank god." hopper breathes out, wiping his hand down his face,

"you won't even try to hide it huh chief?" eddie says, which hop responds with a fake thin lipped smile and a shake of his head,

eddie shoots a quick glance at steve who mouths 'dude stop fucking looking at me'

"it's steve?"

"no! dad it's no one i am not dating anybody!" y/n defends quickly,

"that's not what eddie said a minute ago,"

"y/n you're fucked just tell him." robin urges,

"language."

"sorry chief."

"steve." she mumbles quietly,

"what?"

“it’s uh, it’s me sir.” steve speaks up,

hopper has the audacity to smile even though the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife,

"harrington? she actually gave you a chance?"

"dad!"

"sorry it's funny to me because the year before last," he starts, "you hated him!"

"you're not mad?"

“anything but eddie."

eddie's smile drops,

"c'mon man that's not cool."

~~~~~~~

this takes place in season three to clear up any confusion! this has been in my drafts since june 6th so i thought i’d get it out!!

#eddie munson #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington x hopper!reader #robin buckley #stranger things #jim hopper

[elendsessor]

so uh me and my family went to go see ghost busters world iceborne today and it was fine kinda??

i do want to talk about it since i have a lot of feelings about it despite only seeing this and the original

but first actual thing that genuinely is awful that i do want to make known: if you’ve seen trailers you might know that the movie got sponsored by booking.com and yes they do shoehorn it in the movie. booking.com has very positive ties to israel because y’know travel agency and is one of several companies the bds suggests pressure boycotting so please please please do not ignore that fact about the movie please please please please do not support booking.com. do boycott booking.com.

uh spoilers below the cut i guess?

ok actual positives because i fucjing loved the ghost designs. cgi wasn’t great at points (main bad guy ghost dude i forget the name of looked best when obscured in shadows and not actually shown in detail) but the designs were at least done well. and phoebe and melody’s relationship was cute yet was done so fucking dirty. the movie did have good jokes and the acting was really solid, the world building is cool, and yeah if you turn your brain off for most of the film it’s fun. only when there’s action and ghosts is it actually compelling i noticed and it’s really sad since a good chunk of the movie is not that.

there’s too much plot ok. it’s your run of the mill family drama with ghosts sometimes there. i’m tired of the family is forever shit when it isn’t found family or paints the parents as “flawed but well meaning” and having the dad be lovingly stupid (gary’s technically not the biological dad but he does do dumb dad—pretty much flanderized homer simpson you know the trope), the mom strict to a fault but is right in the end, and incompetent brother who’s trying his best but needs a little help. most families are not like this. most families are dysfunctional in their own ways. you don’t have to have physically abusive parents or unsupportive parents to have shitty parents. painting families in this very generic way sets a really really unhealthy expectation that if your parents aren’t openly pieces of shit you aren’t allowed to hate them or if you defy them you’re automatically in the wrong.

but then there’s phoebe. oh is there phoebe.

i hate how in movies now to get across female empowerment is just make the girl super smart and be shoved in the spotlight too often. she is not interesting at all i’m sorry. you can tell she’s the smart one because she wears glasses and likes science isn’t that quirky? seriously when are we going to just get a strong female lead who has interests that aren’t tomboyish or *insert school subject here*? filmmakers do know that girls and women are also human beings with a wide range of individual likes and dislikes that can’t be reduced to tropes right??? again creating the unrealistic expectation that women cannot be treated like normal people unless they’re uber smart or uber strong. this is a problem for all minoritized group representation and i really cannot hate anyone who doesn’t like how the film industry is trying to bend over backwards for groups to force in representations that only hurt them.

biggest sin is she is not interesting on her own. she is so tropey it’s a fucking travesty. melody the ghost girl was the only compelling person—the only one who made phoebe somewhat interesting to watch—and of course she’s not safe from being a trope. i don’t like how melody has to have direct ties to bad guy mcbad and the sudden turnaround that, while it paid off for her, was rushed to hell and back for the drama.

and worst of all, there was homoerotic tension between phoebe and melody and nothing ever happens.

please just let them hold hands.

i know this is a mainstream movie so two people of the same sex even brushing up against one another is a crime but.

they were cute together and fueled several ghost au fanfic ideas.

damn you film industry.

#shantien rambles #film stuff #if you can’t tell i do not like modern film industry writing

[chirpsythismorning]

Ted Sarandos tries so hard to be like-able and relatable more than any other studio executive I've ever seen.

Like, look at this dude?

Don't you just want to punch him in the face?

And it gets worse...

He might look friendly and charismatic amongst these familiar faces, but at the end of the day, Ted is just another studio executive who is willing to cut costs wherever he can, in what he sees as loose ends capable of saving Netflix millions, but actually does in fact result in devastating repercussions for real people.

And yet still, I question his plan for all of this, as Ted is behind the company that has changed the way entertainment is consumed in the first place, with their company flourishing as a direct result of the 07-08 writer's strike. At first it was slow, but then it was full speed ahead, with Netflix starting a trend of streaming that upended the entire entertainment industry, essentially forcing everyone to follow suit. This has then brought us to a point where the conditions and compensation for workers do not at all match what is expected of them, because it is all based on an expired business model that no longer applies.

And yet, Ted has chosen the route as a CEO to create this friendly mask of familiarity amongst his talent and in the business as a whole, in a way that makes you want to trust him.

When new productions are coming out, he's in attendance making small talk and gushing in interviews about how important it is to tell all these stories, making it clear he's trying to convey that morality and this idea of doing the right thing, is important to him presumably.

But how can he call himself 'a union man', from 'a union family' and push this moral agenda, if he's going to continue to play one of the biggest roles in this strike, with the ability to solve it swiftly by just meeting the guilds demands, all the while tearing down that moral image entirely in the process by refusing to do so?

Because the thing is, this image of morality is him using human emotions that he knows make people fall in love with movies and TV in the first place. He knows that a lot of the support comes from people who give a fuck about human lives and people being treated fairly, especially now in 2023.

So, why in the hell would he expect the people he is presenting this morality to, as a cornerstone of their mission (manipulation tactic to distract from the true goal: exponential growth of profits...), to just sit by and be okay with the writers and actors and anyone and everyone on these movies/shows sets, to feel like they are being taken advantage of and abused because of his working conditions???

In the scenario Ted wins and the writers lose, Ted STILL loses, because this facade is now overshadowed by resentful workforce and an audience that is going to have a hard time getting behind trusting this company long term, eventually leading to their downfall.

You think people want to watch a show where we know the working conditions were awful, with them being on the cusp of changing that, only to be fucked over and have to go right back to those conditions?

The strike is a double edged sword at this point, but there's no denying these executives (esp charismatic Ted) would be much better off taking the -0.3 annual costs and calling it a day.

I guess it doesn't really matter though, because to Ted and all these other executives, the bottom line for investors will always be short term growth. They care about right now, not the future. If they can keep up the act that everything is going swell and convince their investors (and competitors) that profits went up this quarter and are projected to continue going up in the next one, they're doing their job. Even if that means burning to a crisp later on, so be it. It'll most likely be someone else's problem by then anyways...

Regardless, I look forward to seeing Ted succumbing to his inevitable fate of meeting the guilds demands, all while he himself has spent years building up and fostering this friendly image, encouraging this idea that morality is important to the end goal. Who would have thought Ted?? That your facade would contribute to backfiring in a strike for workers rights, supported heavily by the very public your company has spent the last decade providing content to, that supports that very same message?

#byler #netflix #stranger things #ted sarandos #jo rambles #oh and bob iger!... have you ever heard of a bugs life? or newsies?? #congrats. you played yourself #btw i could not find that picture of noah with ted and nina dobrev on his instagram... #though he posted it in april of this year... #i guess he deleted it... #see Ted!? #your talent is turning on you #talent photo ops REVOKED from ted until further notice #in all seriousness #what really grosses me out is the very high likelihood this strike doesn't affect netflix at all the way it does major broadcasters #broadcasters are holding on for dear life all while Netflix and the other giants like Disney and Warner Bros. are totally fine for now #streamers benefit from a 6 month strike in contrast to broadcasters that are running on borrowed time #streaming is what literally led to the publics support for broadcast television to go down hill #you know... the system that allowed people to get residuals #so yeah i think they're ok with holding out until October #and leading up closer to that is when we're actually going to see the studios start making realistic negotiations #live tv has a very high likelihood of being dead after this is all said and done... #2007 all over again #but for real this time. #and then watch! #netflix is gonna try to revert back to a live tv system with ads #going back to a system they tore down #but have no intention of playing by that systems rules to ensure their workforce is protected in ways they've fought for decades before #fucking despicable #everyone has to suffer because these guys benefit from holding out a 6 month strike if it means coming out on top once and for all

[sillylittleabyss]

The Tiny Zone: The First Trial

One night, on two worlds separated by the vastness of time and space, a man and a woman went to sleep in their beds and woke up somewhere else entirely. Neither of them would ever understand why they were chosen or how they got there, but the strangest things can happen... in the Tiny Zone.

Ethan tossed and grumbled in his sleep. He was having the weirdest dream, a dream of falling and flying and spinning all at once through a kaleidoscope of dizzying colours. His brow creasing, he reached for his blanket - but his hands closed over the empty air. In fact, he realised as he started to blearily regain consciousness, the cold hard surface underneath him didn't feel like his bed at all.

Suddenly aware that something was very wrong, Ethan's eyes shot open. With an intense sense of vertigo, he sat up and took in his new surroundings: he was still wearing the boxers he'd gone to sleep in, but his bedroom had been replaced in the night with a cold, alien chamber of cavernous proportions. Bare walls of sterile plastic stretched in every direction as far as the eye could see, a featureless white cube with a ceiling as tall as a skyscraper.

And he wasn't alone. Ethan's breath caught when he saw her: curled up in the corner, snoozing peacefully with her eyes shut tightly, was the biggest woman - scratch that, the biggest living thing period - that he'd ever seen. She was easily 30 feet tall. Hell, could she be 40? It didn't really matter, because either way he was approximately mouse-sized in comparison.

How is this even possible? Ethan thought frantically to himself. I must still be dreaming!

Ethan gasped as the monster in the corner began to move. Her eyes creaked open and she gave a huge sleepy yawn, stretching out those vast arms and rubbing at the mess of auburn hair that tumbled like vines around her face. He saw that she was wearing soft fuzzy garments covered in little bumblebees, and part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity of his situation. Was he really about to be killed by a giant wearing bumblebee pyjamas?

The giantess suddenly gave a start, and Ethan froze as she started to look around the room nervously, her eyes open wide. When she finally spoke, her voice was like a wave of sound rumbling over him.

"H-hello?" Despite her terrifying size, her expression just looked lost and a little scared. "Where am I? Is anyone there?"

There was nowhere to hide in the little room, and it only took a moment before her eyes settled on Ethan. A look of profound confusion crossed her face, like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Acutely aware of how measly his little voice sounded coming in the wake of her booming tones, Ethan spoke up.

"Please don't hurt me!" he called out as loud as he could across the vastness of the room. "I don't know how I got here either."

"You're so small!" said the enormous woman. "Why are you so small?"

"I..." That was a good question. Why was he so small? "I'm not small, you're the one who's big! You're enormous!"

"Hey, it's definitely not me! I'm a completely normal size, and I've been watching my weight lately too!"

The gargantuan woman scrambled to her feet as she spoke, and Ethan blanched as she rose to her full height. He'd known she was big, but seeing her tower above him like that... his head barely cleared the tops of her socks! As the giantess took a step towards him, sending shuddering vibrations through the plastic floor, Ethan cowered in fear.

"Woah... hey, little dude." She stopped. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm just... I have no idea what's going on!"

Cautiously, he lifted his hands from his head. "I don't... I don't know either," he said. "I just woke up and I was here."

She sighed, fiddling with her hair anxiously. "Okay. Well, I'm Riley. If we're going to be stuck here together, we should be on the same team, right?"

Ethan looked at her dubiously. The same team? She was like, a billion times his size! What could he possibly have to offer someone like her? But then again...

"I'm Ethan," he said. Being on Riley's team sounded a lot better than being her enemy, that was for sure. "Thanks for... not squishing me or something."

"Why on Earth would I do that?" Riley said with a quizzical chuckle. She started walking around the room, taking slow careful steps and keeping far from Ethan's corner. "Anyway, we must be here for some reason. There must be... oh. Do you see that?"

He followed her finger with his eyes. Yeah, there was something. The angle made it hard to see from the ground for someone as small as him, but it was...

"It's like, a box. Or a little tunnel or something, in the wall." said Riley, peering into it. "I think I can see something down there!"

She stuck her fingers into the hole, but frustration soon showed on her face. "Dammit," she said. "It's just... too fiddly. Twists and turns all over the place, I can't get my hand in."

Riley suddenly looked thoughtful, and she toyed idly with the buttons of her pyjamas as she turned to give Ethan an appraising look.

"Oh no," he said. "No way. That thing is like twenty stories up."

"Ethan," she said gently, starting to advance on him. "We're going to have to work together if want out of this place. Don't worry, I'll be holding onto you the whole time!"

"That's exactly what I'm worried about!" Ethan cried as she got nearer, taking a step back as she reached out with those huge scary fingers.

"Just... trust me! C'mere!"

Riley dropped to her knees and snatched at him. He tried to scramble between the legs of her pyjama pants, but her hand shot out just a little bit too fast to evade. Ethan paled as she snagged him and pulled him into the air, shuddering in terror as he felt her powerful fingers close tightly around his bare torso.

"Right!" said Riley, straightening and lifting him up to her face with a rush of momentum that made Ethan's head spin. "Now we can actually talk face to face. Wow, you are so small! It's kinda cute, actually!"

Ethan's heart hammered in his chest as Riley's huge brown eyes and lips loomed up in front of him. He opened his mouth to speak, but only a panicked gasp came out as he imagined all the various ways she could end his life right now. Squeezing him, dropping him, slipping him between those big soft lips...

"Okay, okay, calm down, dude!" Riley said. "I just wanted to look at you. This would have been way easier if you hadn't freaked out like that."

The wind rushed past his ears again as she swung him around, placing him gently in the entrance to the little plastic tunnel in the wall.

"See? Told you I'm not gonna hurt you. We're both in this thing together, little guy."

Ethan looked down from his new vantage point and immediately regretted it. Retreating into the safety of his little mousehole, he gave her an indignant look. "Please don't do that again." he said.

Riley made a face, but spread her hands in a placating gesture. "So," she said. "Can you see anything in there?"

"Yeah... there's like, a little switch. I think I can get to it..."

Climbing a little deeper in, Ethan found a small red lever - the first Ethan-sized thing he'd seen in this place, he thought - and he pulled on it until it swung down with a click. Almost immediately, a hissing sound started up from the far side of the room. What was previously a flat, featureless wall of white plastic suddenly sprouted a seam, which became a door that hissed open.

Riley beamed and clapped. "You did it, Ethan!" She peered through the newly revealed door, then bounced over to the bolthole and held out her hand, palm out flat, for him to climb onto. "As long as we work together, I bet we'll get out of here in no time!"

Ethan regarded the big, slightly sweaty palm of Riley's hand nervously, glancing up at her open, smiling face. The idea of willingly stepping into her grasp again sent a shiver down his spine - but she really did seem genuine about this whole "working together" thing. And she hadn't hurt him yet, had she?

"OK," he said, stepping out onto her hand. "Let's do this."

---

Read more of my writing on AO3!

#slow burn #giantess #g/t #giant/tiny #gentle giantess