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revehae · 3 months

Text

undone

pairing ↠ enemy!jeno x (f) reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, enemies au, unprotected sex, choking, smacking, degradation

summary ↠ ever since the two of you could walk, you and lee jeno have had it out for each other. you think that there's a chance he's finally matured and gotten over his inexplicable loathing for you, but when you encounter him after a football game, you finally learn the truth about why jeno doesn't like you.

wc ↠ 4.1k

a/n ↠ part 4/5 of the college-capades series!

don’t like it, don’t read.

just like any other friday night, you were prepared to go home, take a hot shower, and wind down with a video essay while munching on whatever snack you were currently fixated on.

guess what didn’t happen.

bitch, we should really go watch that football game tonight, your best friend said. it’ll be fun, she said.

though you desperately wanted to change out of the jeans that had grown uncomfortable after twelve hours of sporting them, your best friend, persuasive as ever, manipulated your sympathy with claims of all her other friends being busy and the most shiny, pleading eyes.

ultimately, you somehow agreed. your stubborn walls were broken when your best friend wanted something. you told her you would meet her there and hopped in your car, heaving a breath. curse you for being nice. to some people, anyways. sometimes you wished you hated her.

football games were just the last thing on your mind. three years of being a student at this university and you’d never come to a single game. it just wasn’t something you were interested in, especially when the star player was no other than lee jeno, your lifelong enemy.

the disdain you felt for jeno was inexplicable. ever since the sandbox, you just never got along. your family’s never understood the mutual reproach you had for each other and after a couple of dangerously unsuccessful attempts at a reconciliation throughout the years that almost ended with one or both of you in the hospital, they just accepted that you two didn’t like each other.

over the years though, it started to feel more and more one-sided. jeno didn’t go out of his way to get on your nerves anymore. but it makes sense, you thought. we’re grown. it’s a good thing he’s kind of mature. you didn’t disturb him either, rather going out of your way to avoid him whenever you could.

so tonight was just one big slap in the face. almost like it was the universe’s way of telling you to go fuck yourself.

and afterwards, you were positive that you would never be seen at one of these events ever again. sure, your campus football team was everything to brag about if you were a hardcore sports fan that gave a damn, but it was definitely not worth the girls loud cheers that irked your ears when jeno scored the winning touchdown. it was not worth the hollering when his team hoisted him into the air in celebration. that, or you just did not like to see jeno happy at times when you felt borderline miserable.

so three hours later, plus the time it took for you and your friend to do some mandatory socializing with familiar faces, you bid her goodbye and tried to locate your car. given that you were definitely not the first to show up and your school was pretty popular, you didn’t find an available park in the lot.

“hey, wait up,” came a way too familiar voice from behind you.

you barely turned your head, not really having to, but your brows furrowed. why on god’s green earth was lee jeno following you? and in a change of clothes too. jesus christ, i’ve been here way too long.

“not happening,” you hissed irritably. you just wanted to go home.

“fine, i’ll just follow you then.”

you ignored him, not thinking he would genuinely follow you but when you still heard footsteps when you planted your feet in front of your car, you realized you’d definitely underestimated jeno’s weirdness.

still not turning around, you searched your purse for your keys and asked, “you do realize how creepy this is, right?”

jeno shrugged, not that you could see. “well, your idea of a good idea is walking alone in the middle of the night. anybody far more creepy than me could take advantage of an off-guard woman digging around in her purse.”

you scoffed, “i was only digging for a second.”

“that’s all it takes.”

not wanting to admit that he was right, you spun on your heels and snapped, “what do you really want, jeno?”

jeno grinned. “to talk.”

“to talk?”

“yeah,” jeno said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “i mean, first, i couldn’t let you walk by yourself. just in case somebody got to you.” somebody other than me.

you droned, “oh, wow. i guess i should be so grateful a big, strong guy like lee jeno followed me to my car. should i say ‘thanks?’”

“it wouldn’t hurt.”

“go fuck yourself,” you retorted.

jeno threw his hands up in defense. “like i said, i just wanted to talk.”

you rolled your eyes. god, you couldn’t believe you were entertaining this guy’s bullshit when you could be on the way home already. even better, you could run him over with your car. “jeno, i don’t like you. we have nothing to discuss.”

ignoring your balking, jeno continued, “i couldn’t help but notice your resting bitch face while watching the game.”

your voice was dripping with the bitter taste of irony, “wow, a stadium full of girls and you noticed me? i could almost faint.”

jeno snickered. “you’re funny.”

something is definitely up, you couldn’t help but assume. this was the longest conversation you’d had with jeno in… ever.

jeno crept closer, asking, “did you like the game?”

“my resting bitch face doesn’t speak volumes?”

“oh, it certainly does,” jeno said with a chuckle. “but i wanted to hear it from your mouth.”

you leaned against your car, folding your arms. “if you want approval so badly, go find one of your screaming fangirls that are just dying to meet you. i’m sure you’d get tons of attention. maybe even a blowjob or two.”

jeno cocked a brow, but that sly fucking grin never vanished from his lips. pretty as they were. “jealous much?”

you looked like you wanted to gag and dry-heave all over the place. “oh, honey, please. i just think it’s… dramatic. bleeding my ears out because lee jeno sweated a ton and got his pants dirty - woo hoo! what will he do next?”

“sports are an art form. you wouldn’t get it…”

you cut him off with a wince, “oh, god. you sound exactly like the type of guy i do not want to piss off at a bar.”

jeno took that in stride, changing the topic, “do you have any plans for tonight?”

you spat, “why do you care?”

jeno shrugged his shoulders, almost like he was absolutely clueless. “just curious.”

“even if i do,” you started, exasperated. you had plans with your bed, if the sleepy haze in your eyes said nothing. “that’s none of your business because i hate you and you hate me. remember?”

“you hate me,” jeno corrected, stepping so close he was now directly in front of you. “i let that go in high school.”

you were quick to retort, “right, after you found out what a vagina was.”

jeno finally started to break, nearly closing the gap between your bodies. “you’re so mouthy, you know that?”

you swallowed, damping your throat. he towered over you a little. never in a million years did you want to show jeno any fear, though you weren’t certain of what was going on. “jeno, what are you doing?”

jeno ignored you. again. “holding onto resentment from when we were fucking kids just because you want to be a stubborn little bitch. do you even know why you hate me?”

you blinked. you were beyond confused.

“i heard you fucked mark. and jaemin. oh, and haechan,” jeno snarled, extending a hand down to your ass. “all on the football team.”

“that’s none of your goddamn business,” you hissed, trying to pry his hand away from you.

jeno snickered. that was bizarre and the most hilarious thing you’d said tonight. “babe, it’s the football team. it’s everybody’s goddamn business. word gets passed around quick through us. clearly, so do you.”

you recoiled, affronted. though you tried to wrestle from jeno’s arms, he was infinitely stronger than you, and that seemed to please him because he wasn’t finished.

“do you plan on sleeping with the entire team - is that it?” jeno pressed. “johnny’s gonna make it big one day. are you going to get him to get you pregnant? live off an nfl player’s child support checks?”

you shoved at his chest, but he wouldn’t budge. “are you actually this mad that i don’t want to sleep with you?”

“get in the car,” jeno hissed.

you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “what?”

irritated, jeno opened your car door and forced you into the backseat none too gently. you whimpered in pain, having hit your head on the roof, and jeno clambered in the back with you, shutting the door behind himself. you didn’t even get the chance to sit back up before he unceremoniously threw your purse somewhere in the front.

now, you were officially beginning to panic. you never thought he would go this far. fear seeped into your bloodstream as your self-preservation instincts kicked in, and you swung your legs, successfully kicking jeno in the groin.

you tried to open the door on your end while he grimaced in pain, but you were too slow, jeno dragging you back towards him by your legs and holding tightly onto them. he went to unbutton them, grumbling, “god, i can’t fucking stand you.”

“jeno, stop. i said stop!” you exclaimed, eyes widening. “i’ll tell your parents!”

“don’t tell me you really think my parents will believe you over me,” jeno scoffed at how ridiculous that statement sounded, just before mocking, “i hate you and you hate me. remember?”

“then, i’ll tell mine,” you snapped.

“so like you to run and tattle to mommy and daddy,” he sighed, now reaching for your panties. “all that will do is start a family vendetta. now, is that really what you want, babe?”

you frowned. it was like he planned this.

jeno wholeheartedly intended to show you who was the boss, barking, “answer me, bitch.”

“fuck you.”

obviously, jeno didn’t like that, grabbing your keys and smacking you across the nose with them. you groaned, wincing your eyes closed.

“i said, answer me,” jeno growled.

you stood your ground. “and i said ‘fuck you.’”

he slapped your keys against your nose again. your hands flew to your face, a hiss slipping out of your mouth when you touched your nose. though it felt broken, you knew that it was most likely just bruised. you fought the oncoming threat of tears, never letting them reveal themself as anything more than a shimmer in your eyes.

“you might want to reconsider. or else you’ll probably have to ask daddy to buy you a new nose,” jeno warned. “now, like i said, is that what you want?”

you shook your head.

“with your mouth. i’m not afraid to bruise that lip, either.”

“no,” you cried out, fire in your tone.

jeno smirked. “there you go. was that so hard, babe?”

“yes,” you muttered.

jeno laughed, tickled. almost like something was funny. your panties were now thrown aside and you sucked in vicious breath when his finger landed on your pussy, trying to remain strong. you knew that he wanted to see you fall apart. that was just something he always wanted.

but this was something more than that. it was darker than pushing you to the dirt at a playground or bumping into you too harshly in a hallway. this was brutal tenfold.

“i would never tell them anything,” jeno said, referring to his team, you assumed. he pushed his fingers up your cunt, much to your dismay. “nobody deserves to know. you’re all for me. just for me.”

knowing that his teammates obviously kissed and told made it harder for you to resist the tears you desperately wanted to let fall, because you felt so violated in so many different ways, but you didn’t succumb to the sting. you could take it. you would have to.

“i’m not yours. i never, ever, will be yours,” you said with an alarming amount of vitriol.

jeno pinched the inside of your thigh, making you jolt. “yes, you are. i fucking own you right now. you’re going to do whatever i want. my fucking toy.”

before you could even get any spiteful words out of your mouth, jeno slipped a hand up your shirt and pinched his fingers around your nipples, making you holler a sharp cry. you didn’t understand why he was acting so mean all of the sudden, though you guessed he’d just gotten better at repressing his reproach for you and stifling the need to inflict torment on you.

never in your life had you ever felt so helpless before. jeno was trying to break your resolve and you couldn’t let him, but with every blow to your willpower, he was getting closer and closer to winning. for a second, it occurred to you that that was all this ever was, and all he ever cared about. being able to say that you lost and he won.

and he really had you convinced for a second that maybe he wasn’t so terrible of a guy anymore.

jeno tugged at his pants and you started to fret, trying to crawl away, but to no avail. you should have never came here. you should have stood your ground and went home like you wanted, because you didn’t want this.

“calm down. you’ve had dick in you before,” jeno chided, removing his underwear next.

this was the first time in your life you’d ever been truly scared of jeno. any other day, no matter the situation, you’d faced him bravely. but this was beyond your expertise. “jeno, please. please don’t do this. i’m begging you!”

jeno snorted in amusement. he almost couldn’t believe that you were begging him for mercy. you, of all people. he knew there was more vulnerability where that came from and he was hell-bent on breaking it out of you.

the tears were finally trickling down, hot and thick as they dampened your cheeks. “please,” you whimpered, hating how desperate you sounded. “if you let me go, i won’t tell anyone, i promise.”

“that’s cute,” jeno chirped. “not really tempting, but cute.”

you slumped in defeat. there was no getting to him. he was dead-set on sweet revenge for whatever perceived wrongdoings of yours that had wounded his poor, fragile ego.

all jeno could think about was how hard he was, watching your bottom lip tremble and your figure paralyze with fear. he’d seen you cry a few times in his lifetime, mainly because of him and when you were younger, but this was the first time he’d seen genuine fear glimmer in those eyes of yours. and he was addicted to it already. you always tried to convince the universe that you were tougher than you really were, and he’d always been determined to uncover the weak, fragile girl you truly were. to show you that he was infinitely stronger than you.

it happened in a blink. jeno pounced on you, lining his dick up at your cunt, whispering in your ear that he was going to fucking destroy you. you sobbed harder when he finally pushed inside, deep. the burn of the stretch was agonizing and you were inclined to scream, but you in no way wanted to give jeno that pleasure.

“fuck. you should’ve never been such a goddamn cunt,” jeno hissed, sinking his fingers into your hips, fueled by the noises of anguish that parted your lips. “now i’ve gotta put you in your place.”

“asshole,” you said through gritted teeth.

jeno grabbed your hair roughly, swallowing the little whine that escaped you, and stared into your glistening eyes. he could see the hatred smoldering in them, but most importantly of all, he could see how weak he thought you were and thought it was nothing short of pathetic. “baby, you don’t even know how pitiful you look. i’d shut my mouth if i were you.”

you didn’t want to know. you could feel your mascara running down your face, already realizing that your makeup was ruined, but that was the last thing on your mind when jeno was forcing himself into you.

your pussy was so warm and tight around his cock, he couldn’t help but want to shove himself deeper and deeper. the fact that he was a making a mess out of you only turned him on even more, he wanted to engrave the image into his memory indefinitely, and he considered taking pictures just to save it but that would’ve been too incriminating.

he thought many despicable things about you, but you weren’t worth his future. matter of fact, you weren’t worth anything to jeno. not a dime or a spare nickel and the way he fucked you said that loud and clear.

jeno ranted, “this is all your fault, you know. you’re just so damn delicate and breakable.”

“you will never break me,” you barked, though your voice was weighed down by your grief.

jeno burst into laughter and the sound was physically sickening. “hate to break it to you, babe, but i already have.”

you couldn’t bare to look into his eyes anymore, casting your gaze anywhere else.

“wasn’t that hard,” jeno continued nonchalantly. “should’ve done it sooner. i mean, you might have got away if you weren’t such a mouthy little slut that needs to have the last word all the time. hiding your weakness under all those - fuck - witty remarks, but i’ve always seen who you really are. fragile.”

you shook your head. his words were ripping you open and you hated it with every fiber of your being. you didn’t want to cave. “no, i’m not!”

“yes, you are,” he snapped. “you’re a fragile little whore that talks a big game but can’t take what she deserves. admit it.”

“no,” you exclaimed.

jeno wrapped a hand around your throat, firm and strong and everything in between, and your eyes went wide when he impaired your ability to exhale. your hands went to his, trying to pry him off of your throat, but you would never be stronger than him. never be strong enough to fight back. “admit it, if you want to breathe.”

the room started to reel. maybe it was all the hits you’d taken, all of his aggression that you’d accidentally elicited, that made it even more unbearable than the lack of oxygen causing the lightheadness, but there was a fleeting second where you couldn’t feel, where it felt unreal and dream-like, and you detached yourself from the moment so jarringly that the pain dissipated. and then that second was over, and reality seemed to hit you tenfold.

his hands felt tighter around your throat. his body felt weightier on top of yours. his breath was louder than it seemed before, and the flickering heat of loathing torched by his irises burned hard enough that you couldn’t even cry if you wanted to. it was just a silent agony. a cry of distress with parted lips, but no sound.

and when the lights felt like they were flickering, even though in reality there were almost none at all, just a distant street light stationed some feet away from your car, you accepted that you lacked the arsenal and power to win this battle, croaking with the last of your strength, “i… admit it.”

jeno’s grip on your throat slackened, though he didn’t let go. “you admit what?”

“i’m weak,” you confessed in a whisper, throat sore from his brutal touch. you wondered to yourself if he had crushed something or if the pain just felt more intensified in the moment. “i can’t hack it.”

“you never could,” jeno added, finally releasing your throat.

finally, you could breathe again, but your next breath was the most painful of your entire life.

when jeno spread your legs apart a little more, uncomfortably so, you whined, but you noticeably lacked the backbone to fight it. you just took what he had to spare, lying against the leather seat as the metal seat belt marked your skin and jeno’s body rocked you back against it from his movements. it was the least hurtful thing you were feeling.

mustering one last breath of fight, you whispered with all the venom you could summon, “i hate your guts.”

“i’m kind of loving yours right now,” jeno quipped, slapping your cunt as if to emphasize that statement.

every second started to bleed into each other, no more or less excruciating than the last. you gave up on fighting. no matter how hard you tried, it only resulted in jeno taking advantage of your weakness, smacking you across the face or dragging his nails across your skin. you knew your body was covered in marks, you could feel the ache, prickling everywhere.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum,” jeno hissed, running his hands up your shirt.

that much was obvious. his movements, though they had never not been careless, grew more erratic and rhythmless. quicker, shallower, even, but harder.

you set your fingers at his biceps, begging, “jeno, please don’t cum inside me.”

jeno scoffed. “of course not. you don’t deserve that much of me.”

all that you could do was sigh. as if you wanted to be pregnant with his baby anyways. you physically recoiled at the thought.

jeno pulled out of your cunt, and you were relieved for a second, until he rotated you until your face was towards his cock and instructed, “open.”

parting your lips, you sucked his cock into your mouth, knowing you would regret it if you didn’t. you already felt broken enough. if you weren’t careful, he might’ve fucked around and killed you. hell, he almost did.

“you’re so much prettier when you’re being a good girl instead of running that useless mouth,” jeno commented.

grabbing a fistful of your hair, jeno controlled your movements, using your mouth until he came in your mouth, grunting, “swallow.”

you tried your best, you really did, but you didn’t think he would cum so much, and so hard. there was an unsparing smack of his hips against your face as he fucked your throat until, at last, he came with a ravenous growl. you couldn’t help what slipped out of your mouth and drizzled down your chin, onto the leather seat. your leather seat.

still, jeno didn’t let go, roughly lowering your head to the seat. “eat my fucking cum.”

there was no way in hell that you wanted to, your stomach churned at the mere thought of doing such a despicable thing although you had practically swallowed most of his cum already, but it felt physically degrading to lick his cum off the seat of your own fucking car. his hold didn’t slacken until every spot was gone, and you slumped backwards onto the chair, facing the roof.

there was a kind of emptiness scraping your chest that was like nothing you had ever felt before. it was despair, yes, but to such an extent that it felt like nothing. and then it was so much of nothing that it throbbed and ached right there in your heart, and mind. probably your soul too. your entire being felt frozen, rigid. so cold that it burned.

this is what it meant to be broken, you would’ve thought, if you could think. though since you could not, all you really did was lie there, a misty haze in your soulless eyes as your hands were slumped at your sides. had not your chest been heaving like raging waters, jeno would’ve thought you weren’t even alive.

and really, truly, you guessed that was what he wanted. he didn’t want you dead, not literally, maybe. but to make you feel so deprived of everything that gave you dignity that life itself was lifeless.

“i think i’ll take these,” jeno said, holding up your panties to the air like they were a flag of some kind. “you know, as my reward.” for breaking you.

you said nothing. after everything else he had just taken from you, ripped from your very hands like it was nothing, you couldn’t be bothered to care about something so replaceable. you wanted your pride back. you wanted your dignity back. but he stripped you bare of everything, all of your strength and will, all of the fire inside your body that kept you alive.

he would never know what that felt like. in the time that he spent making a point, you’d lost your sense of self and direction.

and jeno just slipped back on his clothes like nothing ever happened, sneaking away like a thief in the night, without a goodbye as he left you there to fend for yourself in the chaos that he’d created.

and he did it all with a satisfied smile on his face.

#lee jeno smut #nct dream smut #jeno smut #nct dream hard hours #nct smut #nct hard hours #tw: noncon #revehae fics

647 notes · View notes

writtenbymoonflower · 3 months

Note

Hello, Author-san! I hope you're doing well. I'm not sure if my last request was sent, but that's okay! I have another idea, though 👀 It's a poly!Marauders scenario where the Slytherin!Reader isn't accustomed to physical contact or doesn't show emotions much, leading the boys to believe they're overwhelming them since the boys enjoy being affectionate. So they begin to avoid the reader (sadge), and now the reader will be the one to initiate affection. I'd like it to be a bit angsty with a fluffy ending, please. Thank you!!!

💀🌻

Hi baby! Thank you so much! I'm not sure if this is as angsty as you were wanting but I hope it's okay!

cw: slight angst

893 words

Goosebumps rose over your skin, triggered by the gentle hand on your thigh. You looked to your side at James, who was still stuck in discussion with the other two boys. You were stony-faced as you listened to the conversation, keeping all of your body to yourself, as per usual. Sirius glanced at you, face lighting with affection. He extended a hand across the table, wiggling his fingers invitingly.

“Wanna hold my hand, babydoll?” Smile peeking into his tone. You just shook your head, looking down into your lap. Sirius tried to keep the disappointment form his face, but the two boys noticed it. James pulled his hand from your thigh. You noticed that he didn’t squeeze your thigh before letting go like he normally did and your heart clenched, but you didn’t say anything, just going back to your schoolwork. You were checked into the conversation, even though you didn’t participate.

“Have you finished your potions essay yet, Pads?” Remus questioned gently.

“No, I haven't even started.” He sighed, slumping back into his chair. You glanced up at Remus, looking at him longingly, wishing you could easily express how you feel about him.

Over the time the four of you had been dating, the boys’ affection towards you had dwindled, and you only had yourself to blame. Whenever they tried to express their affection or casually loved on you, you visibly tensed. Not necessarily out of discomfort, but rather because you liked it too much for your own comfort. Nevertheless, their affections were now few and far between. It only made it worse that all the boys were so comfortable in their love. You sighed and dropped your pen, playing with your green tie in an attempt to subdue your hankering for contact. It didn’t work. This apparently caught Remus’ attention.

“You doing okay, Y/N? Stuck on something?” The use of your name caused you physical pain. At the beginning of the relationship you didn’t hear your given name at all, the boys opting to use a variety of sickly-sweet pet names. Another thing that you had to grieve. You looked up at Remus and Sirius, eyes round and glossy and heartbreaking.

“No, I’m okay.” You muttered. Sirius searched your face, clearly itching to reach out and touch you but resisting. You wrapped your arms around your torso, hugging yourself.

“Are you sure?” James asked from beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder before quickly retreating. “Sorry…” He said, shamefully.

“No, it’s okay Jamie” You looked up at him, pouting in a way that broke his heart. “I- I’m sorry.” You looked back down at your lap, bouncing your knee rapidly.

“Sorry for what?” Remus quired, much more gently than you deserved.

“I’ve… I’ve been really weird. About like, touch and stuff. And I can’t talk as well as you three do.” You cut yourself off before you spilled more of your misery.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Y/N.” Sirius ducked his head, trying to see your face.

“Not everyone is okay with that kind of stuff, it’s okay.” Remus said, clearly thinking they were being reassuring.

“No but…” You pressed your lips together, trying to get the words out. “I- I don’t not want it.” Your face flamed. You hated this. You hated admitting you wanted anything. It felt weird and wrong. They all looked confused. “I do want it.” Your voice was barely above a breath. “I do, I just… don't like wanting it.” You wrapped your arms around yourself tighter, avoiding their gaze again.

James cooed at you, going all soft inside. “Baby,” He pulled you into his side. “Is this okay?” You nodded rapidly, making Sirius’ heart swell at your clear wanting. He could understand that, not growing up with any expressions of love. Craving something so foreign.

“It’s okay to want love, you know?” Remus asked, reaching a long arm across the table to grab your hand. You nodded again.

“I really am sorry I’ve been so weird. It’s only because I want it, I just… don’t know how to handle it.” You chuckled sadly. James could cry from seeing you look so self-deprecating.

“Well,” James leaned the side of his head into the top of yours, making you shiver. “Maybe we can help you? Seems like you’re just not used to it.”

Sirius chuckled. “We can get you used to it, babydoll.” You looked up at him, smiling.

“You can?” You mumbled.

“I think we can, very easily actually. What do you think, lads?” He looked at the other two boys, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

Remus’ was similarly cheeky. “I think that can be arranged.” Something in his tone made the hairs on your neck stand up. He was being unusually coy. You shrunk at his hungry expression.

“Careful, Moons.” James giggled. “I think they’re about to turn to ash.” He pet the side of your head.

“I’m okay with that.” Remus smirked, leaning over the table to grab your face. You squeaked as he pressed a hungry kiss to your lips, pulling a desperate sound from your throat that made the other two boys chuckle. He pulled away, kissing your cheek again. Your whole face was on fire, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

“I think you’re getting better already.” James kissed the top of your head.

528 notes · View notes

breeyn · 6 months

Text

An essay rebutting the “bad writing” claims of s2 ofmd. Spoilers herein.

I’ll preface this with saying you’re obviously allowed to like and dislike whatever you want. I am in no way opposing that. And your reasons are your reasons. Have at. (Also - this is a collection of observations from the past few days, I’m not calling anyone out)

I AM going to rebut the idea that season two was poorly written and lost the spirit of what the show is about.

My favourite movie of all time is Empire Strikes Back. It’s been my favourite movie since I was four. I’m pretty sure it’s a fave of David Jenkins, too. He and Taika have made absolutely no attempt to hide their love of all things 80’s - Prince, the Princess Bride, Kate Bush, Star Wars, etc.

I have ancient video tapes (that I can’t play because who has a vcr) where Lucas is interviewed by Leonard Maltin? Malkin? I dunno. Who cares. Maltin asks him about the Star Wars (original trilogy) story arc. Lucas says “in act I, you introduce all the characters. In act II, you put them in a situation they can’t get out of, and in act III, they get out of it.”

That’s how it works. This is how stories and literary structures work.

Of course you’re not satisfied with season two. You’re not supposed to be.

The arguments I have read on why s2 loses the spirit of s1 is because no one heals. No one learns anything. No one moves forward properly. The person who makes the biggest move towards healing dies. The two main characters end the show doing the exact fucking thing they had promised themselves and each other they wouldn’t do. Our romantic lead still doesn’t understand his value or make any headway on addressing his tragic flaw. It makes no goddamn sense.

My gremlins in weird: it’s not supposed to. In Act 2, EVERYONE LOSES. This is how it goes.

I’ve read a lot of people saying “but this felt like a series finale, not a season finale.” We all know that outside politics play a part here, the strikes make everything precarious. I remember the last writers strike. It destroyed tv for fifteen years. Anyone remember Pushing Daisies? Some of y’all have never had your fave show cancelled with zero resolution for the characters and it shows.

Daddy J did us a kindness. He softened the blow of a tough season. After the brutal cliffhanger of s1, he gave us a little softness and hope. All those things you’re mad aren’t resolved? It’s because THE STORY ISN’T OVER.

No one on earth thinks “stuff all your trauma into a box and ignore it” is good advice. A way to actually live. This show did not have enough screen time to throw out dialogue for no reason. There was foreshadowing in s1 for s2, and there is foreshadowing for s3 in s2. This is a well-crafted story by very smart people who care very much for these characters. There is zero chance Frenchie explained the box in his head for no reason. The reason people have not resolved their trauma and growth is because they haven’t done it *yet*.

And friends - it’s not thinly veiled. They straight up fucking tell us what they’re doing.

Luke Skywalker spends the first two movies fucking up and desperately trying to prove himself and just generally being an idiot. Sound familiar? He ignores the lessons he is supposed to be learning to go off and do what he feels like doing, and loses fucking badly. At the end of Empire, Han is gone, Luke and Leia wave goodbye to the Falcon that has Lando and Chewy - the rest of their crew - aboard. Everyone has lost everything they care about. Vader is undefeated. Yoda is pissed. Nothing is resolved.

You see where I’m going?

If you think I’m stretching this too far, welp, when Ed tells Stede he loves him - the climax of the finale - Stede quotes Han fucking Solo. Like - *it’s right there*. The story structure. The reason everything is unresolved.

So yeah. They wave goodbye to their ship because they have wounds to heal (like Luke’s hand). The people aboard the ship have things to find. Ed and Stede have *not* learned their lesson about whims and how not to be like Anne and Mary. It’s not stupid that they’re doing the same thing, and it’s not pointless that we were shown Anne and Mary. It’s all relevant.

The resolution comes in Act 3. None of these people are done. The story is far, far from over. And just in case the studios want to be dicks about it, David Jenkins was lovely enough to not repeat my enduring heartbreak over Pushing Daisies.

Thank you, @davidjenks 🖤

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd spoilers

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verysium · 2 months

Note

I’ve been seeing some discourse around twitter about the blue lock boys and whether they’d be a loyal bf or not 😭 Curious to know who do you think would be more inclined to cheat or who just wouldn’t at all!!!

I saw someone say sae would 100% cheat like whattt I feel like he wouldn’t even bother looking at anyone else if he already has someone (Cuz I mean dating him would likely mean you actually mean something to him) but I digress

ok anon you had me pulling up a whole argumentative essay here cus WHO TF SAID SAE WOULD 100% CHEAT??? 😔 that mischaracterization is so painfully inaccurate. twitter really took the whole emotionally unavailable itoshi archetype and ran with it. let me just clear the air here because my man deserves some explanation.

sae itoshi would not cheat. as in capital N and capital O. he took nearly an entire decade off his life just to work on his own issues and finally form a functional and healthy relationship with another human being. and you're telling me he's just going to let all that wash down the drain for someone else? 😒 twitter logic really be showing its illogical side here. apparently a man can be loyal to a professional sports career for eighteen years, but he can't be loyal to his significant other.

i think this misunderstanding probably happened cus of shidou. people read the manga and saw that sae dropped rin for a bug-eyed freak and automatically assumed he was disloyal. 😑 let me just say two things here:

(1) sae and shidou's relationship is strictly professional. imagine being stuck in an god awful corporate office with coworkers who bore you with their weaponized incompetence and a boss who annoys the living shit out of you. and then one day, the company hires a new recruit who is probably the most unhinged and debauched creature known to man. you're probably left wondering how he even got hired in the first place. but then you find out...he's useful. he takes risks and gets a high return on what he invests. it's impulsive and stupid, really. but at least it's unconventional and outside-the-box. he has your interest piqued. that's basically sae and shidou in a nutshell.

(2) just because sae gave shidou his number after the u-20 game does NOT mean he would do the same to any other person who would try to encroach on your relationship. and let's be real here. sae would get one text from shidou and block his contact.

anyways, here is my analysis on the bllk boys in general. introducing the anti-cheating to pro-cheating spectrum:

(A) cannot cheat under any circumstance (as in they already hate the fact that they live on a planet with 8.1 billion other people who are not you):

itoshi brothers (atp they don't even have the physical or mental capacity to entertain a third party), ness, reo

(B) cannot cheat due to physical incapability (literally cannot pull anyone within a five-meter radius to cheat with):

ego, igarashi, raichi, bachira (not that he's in any way unattractive...it's just...i feel like he would purposefully act weird to drive off people who aren't you)

yukimiya, barou, kunigami, noa, loki, gagamaru, chigiri, niko, hiori, karasu (baby boy literally felt inferior cus his crush was the cutest in his class), kurona (head empty, just you)

(D) would not cheat (on you but everyone else is not included)

isagi (unintentionally a homewrecker to others but would never let anyone homewreck his relationship with you), leonardo (idk why but i just don't trust him entirely)

(E) could cheat (depends on what they get out of it):

kaiser, shidou (honestly what did you expect when you willingly dated a blonde man...)

(F) would cheat (either proven by canon or they accidentally fucked up somehow):

otoya, oliver, nagi

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say-al0e · 2 years

Text

Whole Lotta Love

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, minors DNI!

Summary: Coming home for spring break means getting to spend an entire week with Eddie. And he’s missed you just as much as you’ve missed him. | Ft. “Fuck, I’ve missed touching you,” + “I’ll do anything you want. All you have to do is ask,” requested by @/rebeccaperegrine-blog1

Pairing: Eddie x fem!Reader (college aged reader)

Warnings: A little insecurity, a mention of Hawkins giving weird vibes, some anxiety, a little loneliness, protected p in v, very light sub!Eddie, rusty smut (I’m sorry it’s been a while, I’m out of practice)

Word Count: 5.4k (I’m so sorry I don’t know what happened)

Stranger Things (Eddie and Steve) Taglist | If you want to request an Eddie fic, click here.

After months of endless noise - the constant tap of heels against tile, the echoing laughter of the seventeen other girls that shared your dorm floor, the persistent hum of a thousand separate conversations melding into one, the occasional beat of this new record or that one - the silence of home felt overwhelming.

The absence of life, made that much more evident by the disappearing act your parents pulled, had you simultaneously relieved - able to think for the first time in weeks - and on edge as you wandered around the empty home in search of something to satiate your boredom.

Planning for the trip home meant cramming as much studying, writing, and working into the days leading up to your departure as humanly possible. The goal was to leave behind every possible worry - every homework assignment, every exam, every essay, every work assignment - and focus solely on enjoying your first spring break as a college student. There was plenty to do at home, anyway, especially when you planned to spend as much time as humanly possible with Eddie.

That plan - leaving most of your books behind, tossed onto the desk hidden in the corner of your dorm room, and becoming so busy with Eddie that you barely noticed the passage of time - would’ve worked flawlessly, had you not returned home two days earlier than expected.

There were moments that you, selfishly, forgot that the lives of your loved ones moved on without you, that their days continued to pass without your presence, and as glad as you were that their world continued to spin - Hawkins continued to exist, in all of its faded glory - you felt a bit of the loneliness your mother joked about as you climbed the stairs to your bedroom.

It was easy to pretend that you didn’t miss home - didn’t miss your parents, your friends, Eddie - when you spoke to them several times a week. It was easy to pretend when you were surrounded by people and buried beneath the weight of this assignment or that one, this deadline for the school paper or that snippy comment leveled at you by your editor. But when left to your own devices, it was easy to remember just how much you’d missed in the few months since you’d last made the trip home.

Instead of wallowing in their empty nest, your parents were sitting at the home of a friend - another empty-nester, whose daughter lived in the same building as you - enjoying dinner and games. There would be time later to see them, to get annoyed with their parenting, so the slight sting of disappointment you felt at their absence was of little concern to you.

Eddie’s absence, however, weighed much heavier on you as you began to dig through the basket of tapes sitting on your dresser. He, like your parents, wasn’t expecting you until Saturday so there was no ill-will as you realized he would be spending most of his night with Hellfire. There was no answer when you called him upon first arriving at home - not a surprise, given that he’d likely had other plans between school’s ending and Hellfire’s beginning - so you were simply counting down the hours until you could try again.

Knowing Eddie - and the ragtag bunch of freshmen he’d chosen to continue the club upon his graduation - it would likely be a few hours more and time seemed to be at a standstill. Having him so close, only a few miles between you, and not being able to see him was infinitely worse than being separated by a hundred miles.

Still, you knew that you’d get to spend a week with him and decided to hope he’d return home sooner rather than later instead of making the journey to Hawkins High in search of him.

With that in mind, you popped a tape into the player, grabbed the most worn book on your shelf, and settled onto your bed in a desperate bid to rush time along. But it seemed as if only a few minutes had passed when, as you lounged - a copy of The Illustrated Man in hand and the nearly worn out tape Eddie gave you when you first began dating filling the stifling silence - you heard the quiet tapping at your window.

For a brief moment, you wondered if the tape was beginning to wear out - it was nearing a year old and you played it often, especially now that you and Eddie no longer saw one another on a daily basis - but the noise grew louder as the song played on.

The rational part of your brain, the part that had been on edge since returning to Hawkins, told you that it was nothing more than a branch tapping against the window as you marked the page in your book and tossed it onto the bed. The paranoid part - the part that seemed to assume the worst, especially at home - begged to differ.

Quietly, you climbed from the bed and slowly approached the window.

Upon first glance, it seemed as if your initial instinct had been right. The dim orange glow of a streetlight illuminated the night, showcased tree branches fluttering in the wind and little else, and calmed your racing heart slightly as you heaved a heavy sigh.

Despite how eager you were to see Eddie, returning to Hawkins had - understandably - set you on edge. However, you refused to let the twinge of unease that settled in your chest upon crossing the county line ruin your break. This would just be another funny story to tell Eddie - a way to convince him to let you choose a movie other than The Evil Dead - when you were finally reunited.

However, before you could reach out to lock the window and return to your bed, a mess of dark hair and a flash of white fabric filled your vision. As the window began to slowly rise, creaking slightly as it lifted, you scrambled across the room toward your closet. But as you reached for the softball bat still nestled in the back of your closet, a peal of familiar laughter echoed through the room.

The instantaneous relief you felt was coupled with an excitement that you couldn’t quite contain - even as your heart felt as if it might beat out of your chest - when Eddie began to fold himself in through the now open window. His presence, though unexpected, was a welcome surprise and you wanted nothing more than to cross the short distance that separated you and pull him into a long overdue embrace. However, you couldn’t help but huff in faux annoyance as he continued to giggle.

“Jesus Christ!” The heavy thump of Eddie’s shoes hitting the floor nearly drowned out the exclamation as he pulled himself through the window into your room. He stumbled slightly - out of practice after so many months - before straightening to his full height and snickering as you tossed a pillow at him. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Eddie grinned brightly, eyes shining with mirth, as he tossed the pillow back onto your bed before leaning against the windowsill. His eyes tracked your movements as you folded your arms over your chest but he made no effort to hide his amusement. He knew you well enough to know that you weren’t annoyed - not really, anyway - and was able to read the relief in your expression as you waited with narrowed eyes for his response.

“I was trying to be romantic,” he asserted, though the grin on his lips made you doubt his intentions. “I was gonna be cheesy and throw pebbles at your window but I figured your parents would be pissed if I broke it.” When you made a face - he wasn’t wrong, your parents liked Eddie but that didn’t mean they would happily overlook a broken window - but made no effort to close the distance between you, he tilted his head and pouted. “I’m sorry. We haven’t seen each other in forever and I wanted to surprise you.”

With a sigh, you reached out to shut the closet door and shook your head fondly. “Well, color me surprised.” A moment of silence passed as you slowly crossed the room and stopped a few steps away from him. “You know you could’ve come in through the front door, right? My parents aren’t home.”

“I know,” he nodded. His eyes met yours as he pushed away from the windowsill to stand to his full height and flashed with a light you’d missed more than you cared to admit. “Call me nostalgic. I’ve missed sneaking into your room, thought this way would be more fun.”

Instead of giving in to the urge to close the minuscule gap between the two of you, just as you knew he wanted you to do, you hummed thoughtfully. “How’d you even know I was home? Isn’t tonight Hellfire?”

Eddie nodded easily as he took a tentative step forward, grin badly hidden as he made a soft noise of disappointment. “Oh, how easily you forget just how fast word travels in a town as small as Hawkins. I heard you were home from no fewer than five different people before I could start setting up. So, naturally, we postponed and the freshmen will live to die another day.”

The quirk of your brow made him smile - a real, soft, shy smile that made your heart skip a beat - and you couldn’t help but return it as you took the final step and closed the gap between your bodies. This time, the quirk of your brows was an honest reaction - surprise and awe, a giddy gratitude that made you nearly breathless as you realized the weight of his words. "You postponed for me?”

Nearly a year ago, the thought would’ve been met with skeptical laughter - Eddie postponed Hellfire for no one - but now, he simply shrugged.

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” he repeated, voice going quiet as he searched your face for the answer to a question he had yet to ask. “I see them all the time.” He spoke as if that was the most obvious answer he could give and, knowing Eddie, it was the only thought that crossed his mind.

Knowing there was nothing you could say that would adequately express your emotions - overwhelming joy, an immense relief, at being in his presence once more; the feeling of returning home, settling back into the space you know you were made to occupy; a warmth that eclipsed the loneliness you’d been struggling with - you reached out to cup his cheeks and tugged him forward. You caught the flash of his smile as he willingly allowed you to pull him into an eager kiss, lips clashing in a way that felt so familiar and achingly foreign as you relished in being able to touch him once more.

Despite the initial reaction to your relationship with Eddie - confusion, disbelief - you knew that there was no one you’d rather be with. Returning to his embrace made more sense than anything you’d ever done and settling back into this moment made you feel as if you’d never left Hawkins in the first place.

The weight of his touch, the scent of smoke and leather, the warmth of his body - it all combined in a way that ignited a spark you’d been neglecting for weeks. There was no place you’d rather be, no sensation you’d rather feel, and you knew Eddie felt the same way as he slotted himself against you. His hands fell to your hips, ringed fingers digging into your skin as he held you close, and you sighed into the kiss.

Though you would’ve been content to live in the moment forever, mouths slotted together and bodies pressed firmly against one another - his warmth bleeding through the soft fabric of his Hellfire shirt, into your skin as he licked into your mouth - the need for oxygen grew to be too great.

As you pulled away, Eddie laughed quietly and scanned your face with dark eyes. “Hi.” He grinned brightly as his fingers dipped beneath the hem of your t-shirt and settled into a familiar position, gently brushing your rapidly heating skin. The weight of his touch calmed any lingering anxiety that plagued you, washed away any hint of loneliness, and made you laugh as he asked, “Miss me, princess?”

Some small part of you wanted to lighten the moment, brush off his question with a teasing compliment or a flirty remark, but you knew Eddie. Just as you’d been anxious and alone, so had he. Beneath the lighthearted question, a kernel of insecurity - buried deep, nearly erased by the time you’d spent together - threatened to burst. You could see in his eyes that he was truly asking, searching for a reassurance that his longing for you was returned, so you gave him the most honest answer you could muster.

“More than you know, Eds.” There was a stack of letters sitting on your dorm room desk - and surely a matching pile somewhere in Eddie’s bedroom - that attested to the longing you both felt for one another but words on paper mattered so little when you were finally breathing the same air once more. “I didn’t really think it was possible to miss someone this much.”

A look of awe - something verging on disbelief - flashed across his face, however, as quickly as it appeared, it was replaced with a soft smile as he surged forward to pull you into another kiss. The kiss, though clumsy, calmed your heart. And though it had been nearly two months since you’d last seen one another, it felt as if no time at all had passed as his lips found yours. His body slotted easily against yours, as if the space between you never existed in the first place, and never faltered as he poured every ounce of longing he could muster into the kiss.

Eddie relaxed into the embrace, his body becoming soft and pliant, and sighed as your tongue traced his bottom lip. His hands dipped beneath the hem of your t-shirt and you could feel him smile as you shivered at the cool press of his rings against your heated skin. Without wasting a moment, he tugged you closer - desperate to eliminate any remaining space between you - and pulled away just enough to meet your eyes.

Calloused fingers, rough from years of playing the guitar, mapped the path you knew he’d trace later with his mouth, as he laughed quietly. “Fuck,” he sighed, eyes dipping to your mouth before lifting once more to meet your gaze, “I missed you.”

There was little else that needed to be said; there would be time to catch up later, time to laugh about the way Hawkins never seemed to change and how excited he was to graduate, time to wax poetic about how much you missed one another and how glad you were to be together again. For now, the only thing that mattered was getting reacquainted.

The smirk on Eddie’s lips made you roll your eyes as you fisted the leather of his jacket and tugged him forward. With no hesitation, Eddie allowed you to guide him away from the window, toward your bed. There was no question of where this was headed - as much as you missed simply existing alongside him, you’d missed touching him nearly as much - so he eagerly walked backward.

Quiet laughter escaped him as you shoved at the heavy garment the moment his thigh bumped the edge of the mattress. He shifted away just enough to shrug it off - tossed into a corner to grab later - before he allowed himself to fall onto your bed and pull you down with him.

A soft grunt left his mouth as you fell, body slotting between his spread thighs, but he gave you no time to apologize as one hand lifted to cup your cheek. Warm fingers splayed across your jaw, fingers digging into the hinge, as he lifted to meet you in another kiss. The music, once so prominent in the back of your mind, faded into white noise as the world ceased to exist around you. The only thing that mattered was the feeling of his hands on your skin, his mouth on yours, and the soft moan he released as you tangled your fingers in his hair and tugged.

As you shifted above him, hips dropping to settle comfortably on his lap, Eddie groaned and dropped his hands to your hips. Eagerly, he nudged the fabric of your shirt up, bunched it higher and higher, and grinned when you pulled away long enough to help him tug it over your head. In that moment, he took advantage of the opportunity to shift you and the world seemed to spin as you settled against the pillows.

Eddie’s hands traced your now exposed skin as his eyes met yours. The feeling of his touch, simultaneously so familiar and foreign after months apart, pulled a soft sigh from your mouth as your hands lifted to tangle in his hair once more. He looked pleased at the response, happy to have you beneath him once more, and grinned as he shifted to slot himself between your thighs.

Careful fingers skated down your chest, tracing an eager path to the waistband of your shorts, as dark eyes shifted to explore your exposed skin. You could feel the tickle of his hair against your skin, the warmth of his breath fanning across your hip, and knew that he could hear the change in your breathing as you waited for him to touch you.

“Fuck,” Eddie sighed as he dropped his hands to trace the delicate skin of your inner thighs. “I missed touching you,” he admitted before leaning in to press a soft kiss just above your hipbone. “It’s been a long few months.”

The sight of Eddie between your thighs, dark hair mussed from your fingers and lips kiss swollen, never failed to set your skin alight. Though you always found him attractive, seeing the mess that became of him in moments like this made your heart race. There was something etherial about it, otherworldly, and you were grateful to see him like this once more.

While you studied him, eyes roving the mess of his hair, Eddie eagerly slipped your shorts down your thighs. Laughter bubbled in your throat as he tossed them over his shoulder and winced when he heard an object clatter to the ground.

“I’ll clean that up later,” he promised, though you knew better than to believe that he would. It would lie forgotten until you woke the next morning but the thought of teasing him dissolved as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your inner thigh.

Everything outside of this moment, outside of the feeling of Eddie’s fingers gripping your hips or the warmth of his breath fanning across your skin, ceased to exist. Nothing else mattered as you watched him lean forward, dark eyes glimmering in the lamplight, to nip at the skin of your inner thigh. The only thing you could focus on was relaxing into the moment as his fingers began to dip beneath the fabric of your panties.

“Can I touch you? I really, really missed this.” Despite the number of times you’d been in this situation, the words muffled against your thigh still settled low in your stomach. They wrapped around your heart and squeezed, had you eager for him to do more than lie between your thighs, so you nodded readily.

“Missed this, too,” you sighed, breathless as he shifted his hands to tug the material down your thighs. “You’re always so good to me, baby.”

In the now silent room, it was impossible not to hear his sharp intake of breath as his eyes darted to yours. Pink dusted his cheeks, always so eager to gain your praise, and you nearly laughed at how eagerly he shuffled closer.

There would be time later for drawn out moments, for soft words and curious exploration. Now, after having gone so long without seeing one another, Eddie wasted little time settling squarely between your thighs to drag his fingers through the slick gathered there. He nosed at the juncture of your thigh, lips pressing to the heated skin as his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and groaned when you tugged at his hair.

A warm hand gripped your thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh, as he pressed his fingers into you. Dark eyes searched your face, watched for any hint of discomfort, and you could see the flash of reverence in them as he curled his fingers. He knew your body like the back of his hand, knew the spots that made you see stars, and eagerly set a pace that made you gasp and writhe beneath him.

His mouth traced your heated skin, teeth scraping the soft flesh and certainly leaving bruises in their wake, as he insistently pressed his fingers deeper. There was little grace in his movements, just an eager desire to have you moan his name, but this was what you’d been missing. It was endearing, knowing that he’d missed you just as much as you’d missed him, and seeing how eager he was to make you fall apart made your heart hammer in your chest.

When his fingers pressed against the spot that made you gasp, you could feel his lips curl into a satisfied smile. Eagerly, he shifted, pressed his face between your thighs, and lapped at your dripping folds. The combination of his fingers, his mouth, and the vibration of his moans pressing into you, working in tandem to overwhelm you, threw you over the edge much faster than you’d imagined possible. However, there was little time to be embarrassed as Eddie’s own moan rivaled the volume of yours. He pressed closer, eagerly lapping at your release, and only lifted his head when you used the grip on his hair to nudge him away.

As you attempted to catch your breath, Eddie sat up and quickly tugged his shirt over his head. It followed the arc of your shorts, dropped to a pile on the floor, before he stood to shimmy out of his jeans and underwear. As he hopped out of the dark fabric, you sat up and laughed when he tilted his head to shoot you a wink.

Despite the flush in his cheeks, he stood unabashedly naked and allowed you to rake your eyes across his exposed skin for a moment. “Checkin’ me out, sweetheart?” He grinned when you laughed, eyes bright as he knelt onto the bed. He held his arms wide and raised an eyebrow as you traced the lines of his tattoos. “It’s the tats, right?”

The tattoos were never what attracted you to Eddie - it was his general countenance, the good you’d seen in him, and the soft smile that won you over - but you hummed thoughtfully, anyway. “Mm, totally,” you nodded, giggles threatening to escape as you shifted to make room for him on the mattress. “The tattoos really sealed the deal. Not like I had a massive crush on you before you had them or anything.”

As you shifted closer, knees pressing into the mattress, Eddie willingly turned to lie back and reached out to help you settle above him on jelly limbs. Dark eyes followed your every move as your hands moved to rest on his chest. The flash of disbelief in his eyes returned - as it always seemed to when you reminded him that you’d had a crush on him from afar before you began dating - as your fingers traced the tattoo just beneath his collarbone.

“Still can’t believe Hawkins High’s golden girl knew my name, let alone had a crush on me,” he teased, though you could hear the hint of insecurity that still lingered in his words. He knew that you loved him, that he was the one you’d chosen, but it sometimes blew his mind that you continued to choose him.

“It’s been years. I don’t think that crush is going away any time soon,” you teased, lips curving into a soft smile as you leaned down. “I’m kind of in love with you, you know?”

Eddie grinned and closed the gap between you with a soft kiss. “I’m totally in love with you,” he admitted, laughing as you tilted your head and smiled.

For a moment, you simply studied him - eager to commit the sight of him beneath you to memory - before you raised a brow and asked, “Can I ride you?” He nodded, eager as always to hand you control, and you smiled as you gently raked your nails across his skin.

He shifted beneath you, fingertips pressing into your skin, and your heart constricted as he laughed quietly. “You can do whatever you want, sweetheart,” he assured you with no hesitation, “all you have to do is ask.”

The glimmer in his eyes, so eager to fall back into your embrace after so long apart, fanned the flames of arousal licking at your skin. He looked so pretty, hair splayed across the pillow and lips kiss-swollen, that you couldn’t help but lean in to nip at the exposed skin of his throat. The marks you left on him would be obvious, easy to spot against his pale skin, but he wore them proudly.

Fingers, calloused from years of playing the guitar, dug into your bare skin as you raked your nails across the tattoos decorating his skin. “You’re so pretty.” Eddie’s breathing stuttered, soft noise of pleasure caught in his throat, as you mumbled praise against his skin. The words were muffled, softened by the press of your lips to the tattoo just beneath his collarbone, but you knew he’d heard them clearly by the way his fingers dug into your skin. “You make me feel so good. And I really, really want to return the favor.”

A quiet moan rumbled in his chest, easily betraying just how eager he was to feel your touch, as you shifted just enough to lean over and reach for the nightstand drawer. His grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises, and you bit your lip to keep from laughing as he shifted his hips to gain some sort of friction.

“Fuck.” Eddie shifted beneath you, desperately seeking your warmth, and tilted his head to watch you dig through the pile of items you’d shoved into the drawer to hide the condoms before leaving for college. “Please, sweetheart,” he begged, voice breaking as you triumphantly hummed upon finding a foil packet in the very back of the drawer. “It’s been so fucking long. Just wanna feel you. Please, fuck me.”

The whining edge to his voice surged through you, dropped straight to your core, and set your skin alight as you ripped open the foil packet and shifted to roll the rubber down his length. You lifted your head to watch his eyes flutter shut, lips parting, as he attempted to keep from bucking his hips into your grasp.

There was nothing for you to say, no words that could make the moment any better, as you shifted onto your knees. Eddie tensed beneath you, his entire body tightening, as he prepared for you to sink onto him. His fingers pressed into your hips as his eyes darted between your face and the space between you, eagerly awaiting the sensation you’d both missed more than either of you cared to admit.

As you lowered yourself, fingers pressed against Eddie’s chest - his heart hammering beneath your palm - you bit your lip and lost yourself in the overwhelming fog of his presence. The sound of his voice, rumbling deep in his chest as he moaned; the warmth of his skin, pressed so close to yours; the weight of his touch, fingers anchoring into your skin; the stretch of him filling you - combined, the feeling of being so close once more hit you harder than you thought it would.

Feeling him beneath you, so eager to lose himself in you, made your heart ache as you leaned down to press your lips to his. Though you knew you loved him, it still surprised you just how much love you felt as you began to set a pace you knew he’d appreciate.

Moments like this, spent together in a bubble that consisted solely of each other, were few and far between. The distance had been difficult, soul-crushing at times, but knowing that he was still there - still just as gone for you as he had been the day you agreed to go out with him - made it that much more bearable.

There would be time for soft and slow later, time to drag out the bliss that you’d both missed, but the weight of Eddie’s hands on your hips - the strength of his grip, the sting of his nails digging into your flesh - spurred you on. You wanted him to feel the same bliss he’d made you feel, to feel the same pleasure, so you focused solely on pulling moans from his parted lips as you sank down onto him.

The pace you set was rough, quick and eager, but you knew that he didn’t mind as he tilted his head back and allowed you to nip at the hinge of his jaw. This wouldn’t last, you both knew that, but with a full week to spend together, this would just be the first moment of many so when his breathing began to grow erratic, his heart began to hammer harder beneath your fingertips, you lifted your head to meet his eyes.

“Eddie,” you cooed, voice soft in the quiet of the room, “wanna feel you come for me. Please? You look so pretty when you come, baby.”

“Fuck!” His grip on your hips grew tighter, fingers digging into your skin, as he shifted his hips in search of more friction. He was chasing his own high - one that you would readily give him, as your own was just as quickly approaching - and lifted his eyes to yours. “Come with me? Please, sweetheart?”

He released his grip on your hip to dip a hand between your thighs and moaned when you jolted at the feeling of his fingers rubbing the bundle of nerves. Just as you watched him, eager to see his eyes flutter shut when he fell over the edge, he studied you as he pushed you toward your own end.

Almost too soon, you felt yourself barreling toward the edge - fingers and toes tingling with pleasure - and Eddie sighed in relief as he planted his feet and began to shift his hips. He came first, a moan of your name on his lips, and nearly whimpered when you followed shortly after.

After a moment, when feeling began to return to your limbs, you lifted yourself from his body and laughed as he rolled his head to the side and grinned at you. “I think you killed me,” he accused, voice shaking as he shifted just enough to roll the used condom from his length and toss it into the basket by your bed. “Fuck, I really missed you.”

“Mm. You just missed sex,” you teased, eyes meeting his as he settled into the space by your side.

“Sex with you,” he amended, though he was quick to shake his head. “I missed all of you. Everything about you. Can’t wait to hear all about your classes and your dick boss and that record shop you wrote about.” There was little doubt he wanted to hear about everything you’d mentioned in your letters and then some, little doubt he wanted nothing more than to spend hours catching up, so you nodded.

“I know, baby. Can’t wait to hear all about the newest campaign,” you returned easily as he tugged you close and wrapped an arm around your waist. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

As you lay in the quiet, limbs tangled together - calloused fingers tracing nonsensical patterns across your skin -, you considered yourself lucky. You were lucky to have fallen in love with someone like Eddie - someone genuine and sweet, kind and thoughtful - and grateful that you’d given one another a chance, even as you battled the distance that separated you. It was only a matter of months until Eddie graduated and then, there was no telling what the future would hold.

The only thing you felt certain of was that Eddie would remain by your side and that you would tackle the unknown together.

_________________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: THE CHOKEHOLD THIS MAN HAS ME IN. I just finished this fic and now I’m starting another for him. I haven’t written in like two months. Who am I. Send help. I even made him my phone background. I haven’t done that shit since high school. AH. Anyway. Have this. The first time writing for a new character is always the hardest. So. Fingers crossed the next one will be even better.

Taglist: @thisisparadisemylove, @meaganjm, @hopelesslylosttheway, @jxngwhore, @janine-sophie, @urofficial-cyberslut, @tasmbestspdrman, @noemotion2day, @umichlover, @slvdsjjk, @fezcosbaby, @x-avantgarde-x

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #v's fics

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schemmentis · 1 month

Text

Somethin' Stupid

Prompt: Melissa, as a teenager, needs you to help her with her lessons. Her dyslexia keeps her from writing an essay for class. Stubborn as always, she doesn’t want anyone to help. You make it your mission to help her anyway.

Warnings: Dyslexia and my poorly researched use of Philadelphia things from the late '70s/early '80s

Word Count: 2.6k

You look up from the paper you’re working on at a groan across the table from you. A head of red hair lowers until a forehead lightly thunks against the wood of the kitchen table. You smile slightly at the dramatics of Melissa across from you.

You met Melissa in second grade when your family moved to Philly. The two of you became fast friends with your shared interests. Though at seven years old it’s not really hard to have shared interests. Still, your friendship grew as the two of you did. Even as you aged and found your own interests, you and Melissa were inseparable.

Now, you’re in high school and as close as you’ve always been. Most afternoons after school you walk home with Melissa to her house. You spend an hour or two going over homework with her in companionable silence. Sometimes you stay for dinner, others you head home in time to eat dinner with your parents. Your house is Melissa's second home just as hers is yours. Your parents have become friends simply because the two of you are and insist on being with the other so much.

“Do you want me to help?” You ask, propping your chin in your hand as your elbow leans on the table.

“No.” Melissa’s answer is muffled into the table.

You roll your eyes. She’s always had a hard time accepting help. You remember in third grade offering to help her color just to be doing it with her. She had looked at you and said she ‘didn’t need help’ but you could color with her as long as you weren’t helping her color. You smile softly at the memory. Your stubborn Mel, just like always.

“What are you working on, anyway?” You ask, still looking only at her hair since her forehead is pressed to the wood.

After a heavy sigh, Melissa lifts her head to look at you. She huffs one more time, extra hard, to blow the hair in her face away. “English.” She grumbles. “I have an essay for midterm.”

“Midterm?” You repeat, your hand falling away from your chin to the table with a thud. “Mel, that’s next week. How much have you done?”

“My name?” Melissa sheepishly answers with a small shrug of her shoulders. She looks more at her paper and the table than at you.

“I can help, Mel.” You repeat your offer, quietly. “You know I’m the weird one that likes essays.”

“Yea, you've always been better with that stuff than me.” Melissa agrees, reclaiming the pencil she’d dropped onto the table. “No, I don’t need help. I’ll figure it out.”

You sigh. You know she’ll never ask for help, or accept it. You know, too, when not to push her though. So, you let it go. You refocus on finishing your own paper as Melissa returns her attention to her own. Though, when you glance across the table at her after a few minutes, you can tell she hasn’t added much, if anything. You’re about to make a comment when the door to the kitchen opens.

You quickly get up to help Melissa’s mother with the groceries she’s carrying in. She gives you a smile you know Melissa inherited when she thanks you for helping. A small, light, slap to the back of red hair. “How come Y/N gets up to help me and youse don’t even move an inch.”

“Okay, Ma, we all know by now Y/N is your real favorite child.” Melissa answers.

“If her parents weren’t who they are, I’d have adopted her already, yes.” Melissa’s mom agrees without hesitation. “Are ya stayin’ for dinner, Y/N?”

“Thanks, Mrs. Schemmenti, but I promised my mom I’d be home tonight. Something about how I’ve practically moved in here and she never sees me.” You roll your eyes but smile. You know Melissa’s mom has had times where she’d say something similar about Melissa always being at your house.

You start packing your notebook and textbooks back into your backpack. “Are we still going to The Gallery this weekend?” You ask with a glance back to Melissa.

“Duh,” She answers without hesitation. “I’m not stayin’ home with Kristen Marie. Oh, Joey said he might come.”

You roll your eyes. Both at Melissa’s ongoing annoyance with her sister and the mention of Joey. “Ugh, does he have to?” You ask.

Before you even finish asking, Melissa is giving you those puppy pleading eyes. She really likes Joey, for what reason you don’t know. You think he’s just like any of the other boys in your school and neighborhood. All of whom you really just tolerate.

Still, in the middle of the school year last year she apparently noticed he was kind of cute and kind of funny. From then, Joey was slowly entering your friend group with her input. You’re just waiting at this point for him to actually ask Melissa out. You’ve seen him stare at her the same way you’ve seen Mel stare at him. You’ve entertained giving them a push once or twice just to get them moving but you figure it’s better to let them figure it out themselves.

“Please?” Melissa pleads. “I promise I won’t let him bring all of his friends, too. We’ll keep it small.”

“Fine.” You reluctantly agree as you tug your backpack over your shoulder.

Melissa rises from her seat at the kitchen table and hugs you as she says thank you a few times. You guess if it makes your friend happy you’re okay with enduring Joey for a few hours.

“Want me to walk ya home?” She offers.

“Why, so you can put off your essay another five minutes?” You tease, kissing her cheek. “Nah, you know it ain’t far, I’ll be fine.”

“Call me tonight?”

“Duh.” You answer with a grin before you make your way out of the Schemmenti house.

You make good on your promise to call Melissa after dinner and a bit more studying that night, She acts like she didn’t know you made it down the block safely until you call. Like she does every time you leave somewhere without her. You assure her you’re as put together as you were when she last saw you.

The two of you occupy the phone lines of your houses until your mother is insisting you have to hang up and get ready for bed. You’ve already convinced her to put it off until nearly an hour and a half later than usual. You see Melissa all the time, every day. Neither of you necessarily have anything new to say, but you remained on the line anyhow. You didn’t need anything new to want to talk to each other and would gladly do this same song and dance tomorrow. And you do.

That weekend, you join Melissa at The Gallery. Window shopping through Gimbel’s and the other department stores there. Halfway through the afternoon Joey does join the two of you. You slip into the role of third wheel with as much grace as you can. Melissa at least still includes you and doesn’t shut you out of conversation or pretend you aren’t there at all. Joey…well, you don’t really care that he pretends you aren’t there. You do the same thing to him all the time. Today included.

“How’s your essay?” You ask Melissa as you walk home with her Monday afternoon. You share a few classes with the redhead but the time to actually check in between those classes are rather short. Plus, she’d had lunch with Joey. She offered you to join but you had enough of the Melissa and Joey show that weekend so you opted to sit with your other friends instead.

“Oh…” Melissa shrugs, her eyes darting away from you. “It’s fine.”

“You haven’t worked on it at all, have you?” You ask with a squint at her.

“No, but it’s fine, I got it under control!”

“Mel, it’s due Friday!”

“I told ya I got this, Y/N”

You sigh, shaking your head as you follow Melissa into her house. You’re staying the night tonight, thankfully. So, you decide you’re going to get your friend as much through this damn essay as you can. Otherwise, you know Melissa will just keep avoiding it.

You don’t mention it in the hour before dinner that you’re both working through homework. After dinner, though, once you and Mel have migrated to her bedroom for the night, you begin your plan.

Melissa, to her credit, is really trying to start her essay. She has her book in her lap as she sits at the head of her bed. Her notebook is on the bedspread next to her and she’s absentmindedly biting the pencil in her hand. She’s squinting at the book. She hasn’t turned the page since you came up here.

You shift away from your chair at the desk in her room, joining her on the bed. You can see she’s trying. Just as easily as you can see her frustration building. Without saying anything you tear a blank page from your notebook and slip it beneath her hands over the page she’s trying to read.

Melissa looks up at you, something close to a glare at you for your unwanted help. You don’t let it deter you. You gently lift the finger she’d been trying to follow the line she was reading with. The paper held just below the line to block the rest of the text. You don’t say anything. You return to your own project in your new space next to Melissa. After a long moment, she whispers a thank you to you as she turns the page.

You knew Mel had dyslexia. You were the first person she told when she found out. You had hugged her and reassured her it didn’t mean she was stupid like she kept saying once she found out. She didn’t speak about it often, and neither did you. It was something she preferred to pretend didn’t exist most of the time. Still, you try to make things easier for her when you can. Even when she’s obnoxiously stubborn about it.

It’s a few hours later that the comfortable silence you’ve been sharing is broken. Your project is nearly done, and you know Melissa has gotten through quite a bit of the reading she needed to do.

“Okay.” Melissa says, the frustration she’s feeling practically leaking into her voice as she tosses the book away from her. She lifts her notebook, shaking it. “How the hell am I supposed to even understand what the requirements are when it’s so many different things? The page count, and the words, and then you have to make sure it’s structured right. It’s too much shit, Y/N!”

You wince when you hear a distant shout from Melissa’s mother about her language from somewhere else in the house. The detriment of your Italian friend’s passion. Sometimes she doesn’t realize her volume.

“Sorry, Ma!” Melissa yells back half-heartedly before she turns back to you, deflating once more.

“How about this…” You say, carefully fixing the book she’s thrown before the pages get stuck bent. You re-situate her notebook to her lap, gesturing for her to be ready to write. “Let’s start with the introduction, right? So, what is it you’re writing about?”

You press your index finger to Melissa’s lips when she goes to tell you. “Nuh uh, write it.” You say, your hand moving to point at her notebook. “Even if it’s just a sentence or two, write it down and we can come back.”

Melissa looks at you, ensuring you’re looking back before she rolls her eyes. Only once she’s shown you her exasperation with you does she look away from you to write.

“Okay, great.” You say when she looks back up at you. “So, then, let’s write…” You pause to consider how long her essay needs to be. “Three different important points from the book.” You watch as Mel’s pencil scribbles against the notebook. You’ve always been jealous of her handwriting. It’s easy for her to write nicely despite how she sometimes struggles to write. Her handwriting always looked nicer than yours. You guess it’s because she’s always moving her pencil so carefully and meticulously.

“Now what?”

You blink as Melissa prompts you, realizing she’d written a few ideas down and was now looking at you for what to do next. “Now, what’s the most important takeaway from the book?”

After she writes a sentence for your prompt, Melissa looks up at you. “I dunno how but you made it way less overwhelming.” She grumbles.

You smile despite her trying to sound upset. “You know I’m always happy to help.” You lightly bump your shoulder to hers. “And it’s okay to need help, y’know. It doesn’t make you any less capable, Mel.”

“I’d be a hell of a lot less capable without you, Y/N.”

“Nah, just getting in your own way more.” You tease her, turning back to your own assignment to finish it now that Melissa seems to have a better idea of how to approach her essay.

You finish your assignment after a few more minutes. You put your things for school away in your backpack, ignoring Melissa saying you don’t have to put things away immediately all the time. You’re the more neat of the two of you and you’re not about to leave things scattered around her room. You might consider the Schemmenti house your second home but you wouldn’t do that. Especially not to Mel’s space.

You check if Mel wants you to help any further. She waves you away but this time you can tell she’s in a working groove and not just being stubborn. You disappear to steal her bathroom for a shower and to get ready for bed. By the time you get back to Melissa’s room she’s just finishing writing.

“Will you look it over for me while I shower?” She requests as she hands you her notebook. You smile at how shy she sounds about it. You know she doesn’t like anyone reading anything she’s written. She’s always self conscious of it but you’re glad she trusts you at least in instances like this.

By the time Melissa returns, you’ve gone over her essay twice. “This is great, Mel!” You say as soon as she walks in. “There’s only a few little spellings I found proof reading but you did great. I think you could ace the midterm with this.”

“Yeah?” She asks, smiling with a brief duck of her head. “Well, you got my ass in gear. I owe you.”

You wait a half second for a yell about language from somewhere but it’s quiet. You’d guess Melissa’s parents are asleep by now. You doubt Kristen Marie is but you haven’t seen much of Mel’s sister today, anyway.

“You don’t owe me. It’s what I’m here for.” You retort with a shake of your head, setting Melissa’s notebook to the top of her desk.

Once you’ve set it down, Melissa is lightly pulling your arm to get you both back to her bed. Though she’s tugging her covers back and over the both of you now. “I’m glad it’s good enough ‘cause I’m sick of staring at it.”

You laugh. “At least you don’t have to worry about it the rest of the week now.”

Melissa nods, curling up at your side. You’ve shared beds too many times to count in your years growing up together. You don’t even second guess or hesitate before your arms are wrapping around the redhead as her head lands on your shoulder. “Thanks, Y/N. For bein’ there for me.”

“Even when you’re a stubborn asshole.” You add teasingly.

Half heartedly, Melissa shoves at you but she’s also still cuddling into you so she doesn’t really try to get you away. “Even when I’m a stubborn asshole.” She agrees quietly after a beat.

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #somethin stupid

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hhhhleb · 28 days

Note

So…do you have any in detail things about the asylum AU? Like has Lyla met all the Mk boys? And the knows they are all different?

Hi! Thanks for the question!:3

I didn’t really thought it through as I drew, but your question made me think quite hard about it for a few days haha!

I’m no psychologist and not nearly close to the level of knowledge in this sphere that requires that kind of au, so I’m really unsure of anything I can potentially write about it)) thus I’ll try to be as shallow as possible in everything that concerns mental health issues.

In this au there is no such thing as superpowers or anything supernatural. Marc&Layla are simple people in a simple mental hospital. They met and with time and lots of long conversations befriended. I know that the last point seems controversial to pt2 of my comics but,,, they builded their deep connection with each other with time. That’s how I see it at least.

Answering your questions, I think for her it’s like: sometimes this guy mumbles in Spanish and sits somewhere in the corner, sometimes he quotes some French poetry and bubbles tons of facts about Egyptology, sometimes he talks with her about everything in the world in her mother tongue, because he knows it makes her feel less anxious, feel like home. Maybe on some unconscious level she understands that there are three of them, but on a conscious level she doesn’t strictly distinguish them. It’s something like: ‘seems like today all he wants is to silently draw stories with me’ or ‘he called me ‘chérie’ so we can discuss some interesting moments in Egyptian philology’ or ‘oh there is this little worried frown on his face, he would love to braid my hair rn, it’s always soothes him’

For MKsystem(particularly for Marc) she’s just a ray of sunshine in the dark kingdom(named his ‘life’). He likes to see her happy and just be with her in a same room, likes to listen to her, to see sparkles in her eyes when he stumbles through Arabic to ask how she’s doing.

For Steven she’s a pure inspiration, he admires her sharp intelligence so much, he feels so cheered up by their crossed interests, and he really values how she genuinely likes to listen to him.

For Jake she’s someone who sees him, who respects him, someone who really cares about him. If he asks her not to touch him, she never does, but she’ll be still somewhere near so he would not feel lonely. She gives him all new pencils she finds, she asks about all lil drawings he does. And he respects her in return, when everything is too much he silently leads her to some quiet safe space, when she’s upset he gives her some vivid photos of the sandy country he got after some agressive bargaining in exchange for his things.

I’ve pondered how and why Layla got there, because for MK system it’s already clear(Harrow-with-moustaches said that Steven brought them there, ‘cause of their mom) Maybe she’s there because of her dad? Maybe she was a witness of his death(like in comics) and it changed her on some level or brought to the surface what’ve always been there. Idk I’m not really into headcanoning mental illnesses to characters,, so I guess it can remain a mystery to us)

So, all I know they’re married and make each other's days much more bearable and brighter:) There is really nothing else to do in this place except spending time with each other(it’s fun at least) so I feel like they talk a lot. Therefore Marc SIGNIFICATLY more open to her and she displays her real emotions more often, not trying to hide by some mask of a tough lady anymore. So I suppose their relationship in this au much healthier then in pre/during s1,, quite ironic innit (^^ゞ)

Well, there is still a huge field of questions in this au but I hope this little weird essay of mine made some things clearer for you:3

#moon knight #layla el faouly #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #moonscarab #comics #asylum!au #i guess it’s a tag now))

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lloromanic0 · 3 months

Note

2009 BILL

Bill and fem reader ate friends with benefits and after a fancy date things get VERY intense

Hello thank you so much for the request!!

When I read intense I immediately thought about an argument (but ik that’s not what you meant lol) so I did both :D, I hope you like it and that it meets your expectations! :]

!SMUT MDNI!

Fem! Reader

Content: You feel unsure of your “relationship” with Bill so after your date you tell him about your feelings resulting in a small disagreement,which then leads to make up sex.

Everybody knew that you and Bill fuck, nothing else just sex. Ever since Bill started to gain fame from his band and going on tour you’d barely see him, but whenever he came back to Germany you were the only one he wanted to see. Tomorrow he was coming to see you after two months, even though you missed him you questioned why you couldn’t be in an actual relationship, did he fuck random people while he went on tour and because of that you couldn’t be more than friends? You ignored those thoughts knowing it wouldn’t change anything in your dynamic with him and to be honest you kinda thought being like this with him was just fine.

It was the next morning, Bill had already called you twice a few minutes ago, you returned the call.

Call:

-Hi

-Hi Y/N I just landed.

-Good, how was the flight?

-It was alright thanks. Tonight let’s go out for dinner.

-Hm sure.

-Great I’ll pick you up at 7, is that ok?

-Perfect I’ll see you later then, bye.

-See you later.

You hang up. You felt awkward talking to him for some reason, you ignore it again and moved on with your day. You did some essays you had pilled up, cleaned your room a bit and for the rest of the day you just relaxed in your living room listening to some music. At 5 you started getting ready, you took a shower, dried and styled your hair and went back to your room to change your outfit. You wanted to wear this black leather skirt you got last week,pairing it with some tights underneath, black boots, a long sleeve top and a fluffy jacket since you knew it would be cold. When you were finishing your makeup you heard a car honk you knew it was Bill so you hurried out of the house. He was parked in front of your gate you walked to his car and sat on the passenger seat, he smiled at you brightly.

“How have you been Y/N? I missed you” after saying this he went for a hug, you returned it smelling his intense cologne on his neck and feeling the warmth of his body on yours.

“I’ve been fine…I think, I’ve missed you too.”

He drove to restaurant while making small talk with you,you couldn’t stop thinking about your feelings you never had any problem with the kind of relationship you guys had before he started to leave Germany for months, why did he even bother coming back just to have sex with you and the thing is he probably fucked so many other people out there and you only wanted him.

You arrived at the restaurant a few minutes later, he got out and opened that car door for you extending his hand to help you out.

“You look so pretty Y/N.”

“You also look very handsome Bill…”

During dinner the talk got less and less awkward and you felt you were friends again, after dinner he told he would take you back to his room as you already expected.The time you were there went by fast,he kept teasing you during dinner about how much he needed you, as you slowly gave into his words.

At his hotel room you laid on the bed with him on top of you, kissing and licking on neck, bitting your colar bones, you shifted awkwardly under him which made him confused.

“Are you okay Y/N? You’re acting weird…” he sat up to look at you.

“I don’t know about this we have going on Bill…”

“What do you mean? You’ve never had a problem with it before and you know we can’t really maintain a relationship with the way my life changed drastically.” He spoke firmly.

“I know Bill…but why do you always come back for me if we’re not even in an actual relationship?”

“Because I do love you but you know we can’t be a couple, if I was your boyfriend I would want to be present for you no matter what but I can’t so I’d rather just keep it like this.”

You stayed quiet for a minute.

“Do you fuck other girls while you’re on tour?”

“What!? No! I only want you Y/N please don’t think like that.”

He took both your hands between his.

“Listen Y/N right now none of us can commit to a relationship, it wouldn’t sit right with me to be your boyfriend and not seeing you every day.”

“I know Bill…I’ll always love you and miss you no matter what and if there’s a chance in the future we can actually be together I’d do anything for that to happen.” You looked at him your eyes glossy from trying to contain your tears as you spoke the harsh truth.

“I’ll do everything in my power to be able to do that for you.” He kissed you deeply his hand holding the back of your head as your tongues connected in one passionate kiss, Bill got on top of you once again.

“Will you let me have you Y/N?”

“Yes Bill…” he went back to kiss your neck as he was previously doing,this time you let yourself melt under his touch humming in pleasure as he sucked the tender skin on your neck. He took your shirt off leaving you on your bra, kissing down to your collar bones and between your breasts, his hand was now behind you to unclip your bra freeing your perky tits. His mouth now gently sucked on one of your nipples and played with the other using his fingers, little moans escaping your lips. Your hips grinding against his in a way to let him know that you wanted him, he pulled down his pants and boxers freeing his erection, his tip leaking pre cum. He pumped his length a few times before taking your skirt off along with your tights, he pressed his fingers over your clothed pussy which made you tremble a bit.

“Bill…please I want you…”

“I want you too…” he whispered while pulling down your panties. The tip of his cock now rubbing against your entrance both of you moaning and humming at the sensation, he slowly inserted himself in you his movements deep and firm.Bill’s hips moved slowly so you both could enjoy that moment for as long as you could take it, you clenched around him every time his tip hit your cervix, the way your pussy had the perfect fit for him made him go crazy for you every time. You held him close to you, your hands placed behind his head,you felt his breath on your face as you kept eye contact with him the whole time, intimate moments like this were what you cherished the most in your “relationship” with Bill.

You exchanged wet and sloppy kisses as he thrusted in you unhurriedly making you feel everything vein of his cock, one of his hands reached down to rub circles on your clit making you squeal at the sudden contact. Your hips now moving with his complementing his movements as you both seek for release.

“I’m so close Y/N- fuck…”

“Me too Bill…mmhmm”

His thrusts now becoming faster and steadier as you finally came undone due to the double stimulation he was inflicting on you, the wet sounds of your love making aroused Bill so much, with one last thrust he came deep inside you slowly moving his hips riding his high. He pulled out slowly making you shiver already missing him inside you,looking at him once again his face now red and sweaty as he smiled sweetly at you.

“I’ll grab you a water and I’ll get the shower going for you.” Said Bill as he walked away.

You curled up in to a ball thinking about what just happened, for the first time you felt like Bill made love to you and not just pointless sex.

#tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel bill kaulitz #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz x female reader #bill kaulitz smut

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lunagojo · 1 year

Text

Various Anime Boys: Being Told "I love you" For The First Time (Part 2!)

a/n: yeeeeeah i should be working on my essay but here I am

Featured: Sanemi Shinazugawa, Kento Nanami, Keigo Takami / Hawks, Atsuhiro Sako / Mr. Compress

Warnings: Swearing in Sanemi's, stitching up Atsuhiro's boo boos

~ Part 1 ~ ~ Part 3 ~ ~ Part 4 ~ ~ Part 5 ~

Sanemi Shinazugawa:

(was anyone gonna tell me he and Satoru share the same English dub VA??? It's so weird hearing Gojo's voice coming out of Nemi XD)

The other Hashira could not understand it. How did you manage to calm Sanemi down so much? It’s like your presence alone was a soothing balm to his damaged heart. Even he didn’t fully understand why he was so drawn to you, like a moth to a warm, glowing light. You were kind, patient, understanding…all things that he yearned for. And you made him ohagi, which, of course, was a bonus.

You were sitting together outside one evening, simply enjoying the peace and quiet together. Sanemi was unusually quiet, his lips pressed into a thin, firm line. He was getting annoyed with how he felt around you, and how lately you had refused to make eye contact with him.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, his voice rough, “Why the fuck don’t you look at me anymore? It’s like I’m ugly or somethin’ to you.”

You immediately raised your hands and shook your head adamantly, “No, no, it’s…it’s not that at all, Sanemi! I’m sorry.”

“Then what the fuck is it? And don’t tell me it’s that you’re shy or some shit.”

“N—No…it’s not that either.”

“Then just tell me, dammit. You’re starting to irk me.” He huffed, narrowing his eyes at you.

You blushed and swallowed harshly, looking embarrassed. “…I love you, Sanemi.”

He froze in place, his eyes going wide. “What?! You better not be fuckin’ joking or I’ll kick your ass.” It was an empty threat, Sanemi would never hurt you. He’d kill anyone who tried.

“I’m not joking!” You replied quickly, your cheeks darkening. You looked down into your lap, terrified that you had just made some sort of big mistake. Sanemi’s hand found yours and he squeezed it, bringing it to his lips. You looked back at him, surprised.

“I love you too, idiot.”

Kento Nanami

(violently drooling over this man)

It had been several long, toiling days of work at Jujutsu Tech for you. You’d barely had any time to rest, having to wrap up mountains of paperwork that entailed the various curses that had been exorcised in the recent days. It was going to be another late night, everyone else had either gone home or gone to bed in the dorms, and it was just you, awake and working hard to finish up your work.

That is, you thought it was just you.

You didn’t even notice Kento standing in the doorway, watching you as you typed away on your computer. He didn’t know how you could look so stunning even when you were exhausted. He cleared his throat, which ended up startling you.

“I’m sorry,” He said as he entered, “ I didn’t mean to scare you.” In his hand was a paper bag.

You exhaled, relieved it was only Kento. Giving him a tired smile, you gestured for him to sit down in the spare seat. “It’s alright,” You assured him. “I guess I’ve just been way too absorbed in getting this done.”

“I can see that,” He replied, opening the bag. “You’ve been working tremendously hard lately. You need a break.” He took a wrapped sandwich out of the bag and offered it to you. “I know it isn’t much, but you do need to eat.”

You gratefully took the sandwich and didn’t hesitate to start eating it. You were starving.

“It won’t kill you to take a break,” He said. “Working overtime is never healthy.” He folded his hands in his lap, offering you a kind smile. You blushed at the sight. Kento rarely smiled around anyone.

You sighed softly and sat back in your chair. “I know…but I need to get this done.”

“I’m sure it wouldn’t do any harm to get some sleep tonight.” He pressed gently, removing his glasses and loosening his tie. “If you’re adamant about finishing it then I would be more than happy to keep you company.”

Something about his kindness, his smile, the way he was looking at you, it was almost too much for you to handle. He had always been so nice and thoughtful toward you.

God, I love you.

He straightened in his seat suddenly, looking at you with a wide eyed gaze. It took you a moment to realize that you had said it.

Heat creeping up into your cheeks, you stammered out an apology, ears burning hotly. Kento then smiled again, getting up from his chair and rounding your desk, so he was stood in front of you. His hand gently cradled your face, thumb running along your cheek. “You mean that?” He asked quietly, his eyes searching yours.

You nodded. He responded by pressing his lips to your forehead, murmuring back, “I love you, too. Now come to bed.”

(these are getting longer and longer lmfao)

Keigo Takami

(sunshine bby bird boi)

“Haaawwwks~! Haaaawwwwwwkkkksss~!”

You rolled your eyes at the incessant sounds of the girls on the TV. Hawks had just rescued a bunch of people from a burning building and, of course, a fleet of his fangirls had followed him. It made your gut twist in jealousy when you saw footage of him taking selfies with some of them. You turned off the TV after that, flopping back on the couch. You knew you shouldn’t be jealous, after all, Keigo and you were just friends, nothing more. But God damn, did he make it so hard, with his stupid good looks and stupid charm and stupid sweet heart and sense of justice.

You heard the window to your apartment slide open and feet hit the floor. “Heyyyyy, Y/N, I’m baaaaack! Mind if I use your shower?”

“You have your own apartment, Kei.” You retorted, turning your head to look at him. He looked a bit scuffed up but still had that doofy big grin on his face.

“But it’s not as fun as being here with you!” He said in a sing songy voice, “Did ya see my rescue? Pretty nifty, huh?”

“Was alright.” You said back, inciting a snort from him.

“You wound me, Y/N.” He feigned heartbreak by clutching his chest. “’Kay, lemme go get cleaned up.”

He disappeared into your bathroom, leaving you resting alone on the couch again. You heard the shower running and covered your eyes with your arms, sighing heavily. You were in love with him and you felt stupid because of it.

In a few minutes he came back out, dressed in clean clothes, his hair and wings damp still. “Wanna order some takeout or something? I could really go for some yakitori, y’know?”

“No, you go ahead, though.” You said back flatly.

Keigo frowned a bit. “Hey now, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” He flopped down on the couch next to you, giving you a quizzical look. “C’mon, Y/N, talk to meeeeeee…”

“It’s nothing important, Kei.”

“It’s important to me. You’re important to me.” He pressed further, leaning into you so his chin was on your shoulder. “Please tell me?”

You sighed, finally looking at him. “I told you it’s nothing important, Keigo.”

“Noooo, c’mon, you’re torturing me now. Please please pleeeeease tell meeeee?”

“Ugh, God, I love you, stupid! I always have!” You finally blurted, annoyed and now embarrassed.

Silence fell over the apartment as humiliated tears stung your eyes. You were half expecting him to laugh, half expecting him to gently reject you. But he didn’t.

Instead, he tucked his fingers under your chin, turning your head so you’d look at him. His face had an expression on it that you’d never seen before, his eyes were so soft, his smile so warm and comforting. “I didn’t think you felt the same.” He said. ”Wha—” you began, but he cut you off with his lips on yours. Sparks flew from behind your eyelids at the feeling.

When you two broke apart, he rested his forehead against yours, a tender smile on his face. “…You sure you don’t want yakitori, though?”

Atsuhiro Sako

(this man needs so much more appreciation, honestly)

“You really ought to be more careful, Compress.” You said as you stitched up a wound on Atsuhiro’s side. “You’re probably the only sane person in the League, besides Kurogiri. How am I gonna deal with the others if you go and get yourself killed?”

“It almost sounds like you care for me, my dear.” He drawled in response, a small smirk playing across his face. Well, what you could see of it through his balaclava. He gritted his teeth, though, when you pulled the thread through again. “Fear not, I shall not leave you to fend for yourself. It would not be very theatrical of me.” His eyes lingered on your face, his grin widening when you blushed and looked away.

“…I was worried,” You admitted, finishing up with his stitches.

His smile faded then, and he placed a hand on your wrist. “I’m sorry for making you worry,” He replied, his brown eyes softening. “I promise I will be more careful from now on, alright?”

You nodded, setting your materials to the side and retrieving a bandage to wrap around his abdomen. “…Hiro?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Hm? What is it, my dear?”

“…I love you.”

He stiffened for a moment, but then a warm smile grew across his lips. He wrapped an arm around you despite the objection coming from his wounded side. Pulling you close to him, he presses his lips to your forehead, nuzzling your hair. “I know.” He said softly. “I love you, too, my dear. You mean everything to me.”

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connorsnothereeither · 4 months

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This is honestly kinda weird for me because I definitely didn’t enter 2023 with the intent to be content creator, but I kind of stumbled into 2024 actively being one (which is something I’m incredibly grateful for, I’ve gotten to meet so many cool people and make so much cool stuff)!!

That being said, I am incredibly excited for 2024 and some of the things I have planned, and for all of the amazing creators and friends I have things planned with, and I wanted to share some of my goals for projects for the new year (in no particular order)!!

Obviously Fable SMP is still ongoing, and I’m really excited for Ulysses story and the culmination of it!

Speaking of Fable, my goal is to have completed my main Fable Fics by the end of 2024! That’s the final two Brink books (On the Border of Life and Death, and On the Precipice of Eternal Purpose) and the final Blood book (Your Skin Beneath My Teeth)! I’m sure that won’t be the end of my work writing Fable related fics, but that will hopefully wrap up my main stories there.

I’m also hoping to have the Brink and Edge Audiobooks finished by mid-year!!

As some people might have seen, I’m part of the starting cast for the super cool upcoming Terramortis SMP, announced by the incredible @m0thm00n and featuring a ton of awesome creators!! I’m super excited to share my character for that story and see where that SMP goes!

I can’t say too much for now, but I may be involved in some other upcoming RP/SMP projects which people should be on the lookout for 👀

CANTRIPPED!!! I’m so excited to be part of the Cantripped cast moving into 2024 and to see where that story goes! I love Dan so much, and keep your ears out for me perhaps guesting in some other roles on the show as well!

I have two huge Video Essay projects I’ve been working on for a while and am hoping to finish up early this year! One is the Teen Wolf video essay I’ve talked about before, and the other is a more light hearted Percy Jackson focused piece! I’ve also got the start of a third essay on the original Jumanji in the works so who knows where that’ll go!

Also top of like,,, creative things, this year I’ll hopefully be graduating with a Bachelors Degree in Ancient History and Classicism which is… wild to think about-

A bunch of other cool projects I have on the back burner that I’d love to pursue!!

Will any of these come to fruition? I really fucking hope so cause I’m really excited for all of them- but obviously there’s nothing concrete since life gets in the way.

But you know if any of those things sound interesting to y’all… stick around here? You probably found me through Fable SMP so like, I’m pointing at my YouTube and this tumblr account, they’re the main places I reside 🧍

#fablesmp ulysses #fable smp #mcyt #on the brink of scientific discovery #terramortis #cantripped

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bugeyedfreaks · 5 months

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Since I figured people would be expecting something today from me, the weird chick who blogs exclusively about the PPG, I was going to do something ✨ special ✨ for the 25th PPG Anniversary Fun Time Spectacular. I thought about making some big piece of kickass fanart, or writing some huge, emotional essay about the many ways the show has impacted me, how it’s gotten me through intensely difficult times, how I’ve made friends I’ve known for years because of it, but… what could I possibly do after already posting so much about the show in the first place?!

This entire blog of mine is an ultra long love letter to the original Powerpuff Girls series that I have been composing for over nine years now, and on top of that, I already obsessed over it years and years before on other places online and offline (even before this anniversary thanks to What A Cartoon!). I talk about it almost on the daily, and rarely get tired of it. Whenever I do take a break, I’m always eventually drawn back. It's weird, it's goofy, it's got heart, it's got action... it's got it all! It’s a piece of media that I have been able to consistently go back to and be entertained by every single time I revisit it. That kind of timelessness and entertainment value for a TV show is rare. It’s really something that’s one of a kind.

There’s nothing I could draw or write or whatever that could express how much I like it as much as all the colossally dorky posts I’ve already written here could. It would be so ridiculous for me to waste time writing a big, huge thing or drawing some giant piece of fanart to just repeat the message I try to get across on here all the time, which is that I love this show and it’s still awesome 25 years later.

So 💖 HAPPY 25th ANNIVERSARY PPG 💖! I am very glad that this show exists, and I am super grateful to the many people who helped make it exist. 💕

#powerpuff girls #ppg #and a big THANK YOU to everyone here on tumblr for sharing this love with me!! 💖💕💖#love u guys

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griancraft · 15 days

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Hello, would you like to expand on the DID being treated similarly to Autism and ADHD by tiktok and tumblr?

Hi this is already getting long and I wanna post this as soon as possible so people who want to see it will see it. This is written on like 3 hours of sleep after a 8 hour shift and it took me 3 HOURS because I am so fucking out of it ask for clarification before getting upset if something is wrong.

I also want to preface this with the fact I am an advocate for healthy multiplicity. I’ve written essays for classes on non monogamy and DID. I’ve written about how identifying as separate but whole has been the best way to heal for ME. I am in no way saying that the way professionals talk about us is a complete picture. Our history is important and self advocacy is important and I think both disordered and non disordered advocacy should be taken seriously.

In the context of the disorder of DID, which is characterized specifically by distress and impairment, talking about it as a disorder is really fucking important. If you’re interested in the history of non disordered systems Sai’s card is absolutely incredible and I really really think it’s important to read. This is not a “syscourse” post or whatever, this all existed before the internet. I feel like discoursing over wether what real people experience is real is stupid because you’re never going to get into their brain.

Much of our history is self recorded because professionals for so long treated us like we were unable to understand our situation and unable to advocate for ourselves. All of these are reputable and sourced with great care by someone I trust.

https://plural.neocities.org

Alright preface over or whatever uh. Here we go.

While the DID community is much smaller than the ADHD/Autistic community, the issue of “well, I can do that, why can’t you?” is very present in a LOT of spaces. There are many similarities in how our “weirdnesses” is perceived outwardly by society. Some things are very very similar such as us being “off putting” and a lot of us being disabled to the point where we are unable to work a job. So, so much is similar in how society views us because there are so many crossover symptoms. But in terms of different experiences I’ve had people say it’s weird that I seem to switch between “emotional states” so quickly, that it’s weird how my voice changes pitch and my stims are different, that its “weird” when I switch to certain alters (my ex said this to his face btw) because they act so differently from me, I often feel the discomfort from certain friends when an alter introduces themselves with their own name. Some of these were said by systems, too!

We find it difficult to identify switches and tell who is fronting, sometimes we can’t tell until I (the host) am back in the front and things are disorienting. There is a massive push to CONSTANTLY be able to identify who’s fronting to other people.

I’ve noticed that a lot of what I experience isn’t in line with what people talk about on tumblr and TikTok and I struggled with that for awhile. Despite having the closest thing I can have to a diagnosis at this point, and doing what I can to read the literature. I do not know who is fronting if it is not me most of the time and identifying who can actually put a lot of strain on us. Sometimes we are distinct enough to tell, but not always. Many people I know also experience this.

Tools like pluralkit and simplyplural are great, but I’ve heard so many stories of singlets and even other systems feeling “lied to” when someone doesn’t identify who is fronting. For a very very long time we felt a lot of pressure to constantly be able to identify who is in the front. This is a symptom that is kinda supposed to happen though, you are dissociating from yourself.

I also think a lot of other systems find littles, animals alters, and fictives/factives cringe/weird and feel very self righteous in bullying them because of it especially if they are “normal” systems.

Littles are “weird” because it’s a child alter in a usually adult body. It’s “weird” that an adult is acting like a kid. DID is a dissociative disorder with the cause being linked to childhood trauma. An alter may form as a child as a result of said trauma. Animal alters are “weird” because it is abnormal to see people acting like animals and the (often) non speaking aspect of this isn’t taken seriously. Again, DID is linked to childhood abuse, if a child with DID was treated like an animal by their abusers they are probably going to form an animal alter.

Fictives and factives are more complex because it’s so often used as an indicator that people are faking because it’s “weird”. This is silly. I’m just going to repost something I’ve already wrote on it because I think explaining it again would make me loose my actual fucking mind.

“Things like “if I were this character I wouldn’t be in this situation” and “this character would take care of me, they wouldn’t hurt me” and “if I was this character I would be strong enough to survive” are all things I’ve thought of as probable reasons and I’ve heard similar from others too!

Also, it is a LOT easier to make something from a blueprint/template than create something entirely new in anything. I don’t see why that would be different in the brain especially if one is going through a lot already. Normal alters pull from our experiences already so it’s kinda just a more extreme version of that imo!”

And what you need to understand about living with DID is that it’s fucking weird. It will be weird. Systems aren’t any more “normal” if they don’t experience weird symptoms.

I think the “tee hee alters in my head” talk is SOMETIMES overwhelming discussions of what it is like to live day to day with the disorder. There are days when there is very little internal communication within us, and many people I know do not have any internal communication at all.

The idea that alters are separate people and not ‘parts of a whole’ is something I’ve seen people very defensive on. while I like. Get this sentiment, and it can be very very invalidating to be told this. But it’s not really consistent with the literature and if you want to treat your plurality like DID you have to at least consider parts language IMO. Modern papers in my experience do affirm the individual identities of alters while still using parts language. This is very good in my opinion because it not only validates the lived experiences of someone with DID but also stays on the track of treating the disorder in one way or another.

There are severe and dangerous symptoms related to DID that are NOT talked about enough. There are comorbidities that are not talked about at all that I like, only found out about from scouring papers. But I do not want to get into that until I have at least. A week to recover from finals dear FUCK.

#this crashed my app the first few times I tried to post it btw #Ahg #I hope people understand my intentions and the point is clear

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