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grimoireofhayley · 9 months

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Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ Content, Stalking, Possessiveness, Dirty talk, Religion talk, Suppressed Mental Health problems (I.e., reader has some issues that she isn't aware of)

Word Count: 1k

Tag List: @ev3ningrain @nerdytif @fanfic-enjoyer123 @darkenwolfie @juda-the-simp @colsons-baker @junnniiieee07 @octaviablakeslove

A/n: I'm sorry for another short chapter, but hopefully the detail makes up for the somewhat shortness, haha. My kids are finally at their dad's and now I am able to publish chapters all weekend. I would like to thank each and everyone of you for taking your time to read, heart, comment and reblog. It makes me so unbelievably happy! So, thank you! <3

All chapter links! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 8

Gale Weathers was quick to show up at your house, her neon-yellow skirt flapping behind her and her cheeks rouge from almost tripping out of her work van.

“Jesus! The camera, hurry!” She snapped at her cameraman, who seemed to be struggling to hold the object on his shoulder.

“My name isn’t Jesus..” He trailed, Gale only ignored him as she flattened her outfit and picked up speed, almost jogging towards the police car you were in.

She ducked down, trying to catch a glimpse of your face, the car now in drive, “(Y/n), is that you in there?” She shouted, tapping frantically at the window.

You flipped her off, annoyed that she was here, fortunately, Burke sensed your aggravation and noticed Gale; he pressed on the gas and the vehicle picked up speed down the driveway.

“Excuse me…” Gale shouted at your friend, “Was that (Y/n) they took away?” She asked, walking after Tatum.

“I am not talking to you right now…” Tatum scorned, trying to ignore Gale’s constant questioning.

“What happened to her?”

“None of your damn business!” Tatum yelled, storming up to her car.

“I heard something about a mask, a costume of some sort, is that true?” The brunette followed Tatum, once again tapping at a car’s window.

“Can you tell me anything, anything at all?”

“Yeah, you are an absolute pain in the ass!”

Tatum sped off, causing Gale to move away.

“Leave both Sid and (Y/n) alone!”

Gale scoffed, pinching the bridge of her nose, anger flashing across her orbs.

“Where is she going?” Her cameraman suddenly popped up behind her.

Gale gave him a sour look as she grabbed his wrist, her voice changing octave. “Look, Kenny.” She started, looking up at the bigger-taller man. “I know you’re about 50 pounds overweight, but when I say “hurry,”” She raised her tone, pointing a finger at him. “Please interpret that as “move your fat, tub-of-lard ass now!”” She groaned, ripping her mic away from his hand.

You hurried into the police station, your shoes squeaking off the cleanliness of the ground, you spotted Sidney in the distance causing you to stop in your tracks.

She looked at you, eyes wide and pink from crying, another Officer’s jacket draped over her, assuming to comfort her from the traumatic event that happened around the same time yours did.

You mouthed at her, narrowing your eyes, your brows almost fusing together at the angry face you made, “How could you?”

Her mouth twitched, not sure how to respond, she slouched deeper into the chair, trying to avoid your death stare.

Sidney placed her hand on her forehead, leaning into her touch, closing her eyes. Stress and sadness eating up her thoughts.

You bit the inside of your cheek, not furthering the intimidation you had on her.

You frowned, looking into a window across from you where Billy sat inside; staring at Sidney with hurt printed on his features, he didn’t acknowledge that you were there yet.

Shaking your head in disappointment, you strolled towards the room.

“Let me ask you this. What’re you doing with a cellular telephone, son?” Officer Brinks asked, not registering that you were there.

“Everyone has one, Officer.” You stated, leaning up against the doorframe, Billy and his father looked at you, somewhat shocked that you were here.

“Miss--”

“(Y/n).” You butted in, introducing yourself, pushing yourself off of the frame, heading towards your friend.

“I came as quickly as I could, Billy.” You smiled warmly at him, placing a small hand on his shoulder, the action caused a faint blush to spread across his cheeks.

“May I?” You asked, nodding towards the empty chair.

Officer Brinks sighed, knowing full well that you were not leaving.

“Please…” He motioned for you to sit, which you gladly accepted. “Why aren’t you with Sheriff Burke?” He crossed his arms, leaning against his chestnut-coloured desk.

“I’ll answer that when it is my turn.” You smirked, “Right now, please, go ahead, continue with your accusation.” You pointed towards Billy, leaning into your chair.

“Very well.” Brinks mumbled, looking from you to Billy.

“I did not make those calls, I swear.” Billy groaned, a brown piece of hair falling in front of his face.

“Check the phone bill, for Christ’s sake.” His father interjected. “Call Vital Phone Comp. They got records of every number dialed.”

“Gee, thanks Hank, we’re on top of it.” Brinks gripped the edge of his desk.

You glared at the officer, listening intently.

“What were you doing over at Sidney’s house tonight?”

“I wanted to see her, that’s all.” Billy folded his hands together.

“And last night? Sidney said you crawled through her window last night, too.”

“You went out last night?” Hank suddenly said, you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I was watching TV and got bored, okay? I decided to go out for a drive.” He stated plainly.

“Did you happen to drive by Casey Becker’s house?”

Billy dismissed the question, “No. No, I didn’t.”

“Alright, that’s enough..” You intervened, standing up. “He came to my house after Sidney’s. He’s no killer.” You snipped, “Sidney lives at least 7-10 minutes away from me, where Casey’s place is 15 to 20 minutes away from me.” You sighed, “ There’s not a chance in hell he could’ve killed both Casey and Steve and still manage to get to my place in that time frame. Clearly there’s two of them, but Billy is not one.”

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#fanfiction #scream 1996 #billy loomis #billy loomis x female reader #billy loomis x reader #billy x you x stu #scream franchise #stu macher #billy x stu #stu macher x reader #stu macher x female reader

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littlexscarletxwitch · 9 months

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── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗴𝗮𝗺𝗲

paring: florence pugh x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, based on endgame by taylor swift (you don't understand how much i'm loving this song), cute gf flo

warning(s): grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 2.2k

note: omg, it's finally here. I'm so sorry it took me sooo long, it just I was super busy. Was this inspire by Ms. Taylor Swift? Yes, yes it was. I really hope you guys like this one. I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Love you all so much <3

note 2: guys, I'm currently reading 'Delilah Green doesnt' care' and it's giving me so many ideas for fics. So would any of you be interest in more mum!florence? Please let me know. Xoxo, M

requests are open! + check my rules here + masterlist <3

Your eyes were closed, your head was on her chest listening to her steady heartbeats, a soft smile formed on your lips.

“Promise me this is forever,” you whispered.

You knew she was awake, she was doing the same thing as you, enjoying the moment, living in the present.

Your eyes found hers already looking at you.

“I promise,” she said, her smile mirroring yours.

Her lips found yours as if sealing the promise forever, but nothing ever lasts forever. The kiss that was first sweet and soft and filled with love, turned bitter, harsh and cold. You pulled back confusion written all over your face.

You blink once then twice, and suddenly you were waking up on your bed, alone. You cursed yourself at the stupid memory. It was so pathetic to still think about Florence that way. You two were history, long forgotten, just a memory of your adolescence.

You shook your head, trying to wake up your foggy brain from the nap you had taken. And decided to get some work done as a way to clear your head from your silly old fantasies.

You made yourself a cup of tea, grabbed your notebook and put your headphones on. You only had three more months to finish your second album. The deadline wasn’t much of a concern of yours, what bothered you was the lack of inspiration. Every lyric you would write down was just trash, it was as if you were missing something. So far you had only five finished songs, and you needed ten more to have the album finished.

You were humming, moving your head to the beat as you let your brain come up with the right words, but it felt as if you were stuck.

“I wanna be your endgame,” you sang to the beat. “I wanna be, I wanna be your… ” you threw your head back in annoyance, frustration getting the best out of you.

You had been sitting on the floor for the last hour, trying to finish this one song but you were not even close to it. You took a deep breath trying not to lose your shit. Your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a new notification and that took your whole attention.

“Y/n Y/l/n and Drew Starkey spotted out for dinner,” you read out loud and couldn’t help rolling your eyes at the link your manager and best friend had sent you.

According to the news, you were dating both Drew Starkey and Joe Keery. You also almost got engaged the week before to Rudy Pankow, but apparently cheated on him with Maya Hawke. You knew better than to actually pay attention to fake news, but you couldn’t help to. After all that was now your life, the life of a startpop in the making, so much for a boring Oxford kid.

Your reputation precedes you, in rumours you were knee-deep. But there was nothing you could do about it. Exhausted from your social life and the poor lack of motivation to do the one thing you loved the most, you decided to go out on a walk, hoping it would help to clear your thoughts about both the fake news and Florence, who you tried to ignore from thinking of. But ever since that dream you found yourself thinking about her more often.

You knew she was as famous as you were, maybe even more. You had to admit to yourself that some nights you found some kind of comfort in her movies, watching her cute pouty face, the one she was most known for.

She was your first love, she taught you how to love, what it was to be loved. Of course it wasn’t easy to forget about her, even after all these years, some part of you still craved her love. It wasn’t that you didn’t love each other when you both decided to go separate ways, it was because things weren’t so simple anymore. You two weren’t just two teenargs in love, you were slowly becoming adults. She had booked roles and you were making your way into the music industry.

And without the two of you knowing you two just drifted apart, the two of you too caught up in your careers. But you loved her, so you decided to let her go, hoping and praying to the universe that maybe she would come back to you one day.

Your thoughts were interrupted as you opened the door to your local cafe and someone bumped into you.

“Sorry, I wasn’t… “ but you stopped cold once you saw the strangers eyes.

“Y/n?” she asked, her voice as soft and raspy as you remembered. “What are you doing here?” a smile formed on her face, as if she was genuinely happy to see you.

You shook your head trying to clear out your mind, was Florence really in front of you? “I, um, I lived here,” you blinked once, twice and she was still there. “Just around the corner,” you added, cursing yourself for being so awkward. “What are you doing here?”

Was this a sign of the universe? Have your prayers been answered?

“Visiting my family,” right her family, you thought. “Well, not just that, I’m also working,” she scratched the back of her neck. “I was actually hoping to see you, too.”

“Really?” that had to mean something, the universe couldn't be messing around with you this cruelly. Right?

“Yeah, I have, um… I have been thinking about you.” she smiled at you and you felt the butterflies in your stomach. “I think we should talk.”

“I, um,” what were you supposed to say? Were you willingly going to agree to spend time with the love of your life as if the two of you were going to be just friends? What was that supposed to mean?

“Yeah, sure. When are you free?” you finally agree.

You mentally checked your schedule, you were supposed to finish your songs but taking a break wouldn’t hurt anybody. Plus, you were going to get your coffee and get back to it right away.

“Um, what about now?”

Shit, you thought. She wasn’t going to give you any time to prepare yourself. Well, you better get into it, rip it off like a band aid.

“Okay, I was going to get a coffee and then we can…”

“Yeah, yeah, take your time. I’m going to find us a table.”

You order your coffee while mentally preparing for the conversation the two of you were going to have. What was she on about? Was it really a big coincidence? Did the universe put her in our path for some reason? You shook your head, you needed to stop thinking about the universe’s way of working for a second.

They handed you your coffee and now you had no more excuses to avoid her, not that you wanted to. Some part of you long to be near her, but you were scared of what this whole thing was about.

“So, um, what’s up with Drew?” she tried to pretend she didn’t care but was actually dying to know if you were actually dating him, not that you noticed it.

“Who?”

“Drew? Starkey?”

“Oh, yeah, Drew,” you chuckled, silly you for forgetting your own friend. “He’s just a friend, a really good friend,” was it your imagination or did she just let out a breath of relief. “What about Ashley?” you asked before taking a sip of your coffee.

She smiled at you, “She’s also a really good friend.”

“So, um…”

“Listen, Y/n…”

The both of you chuckled.

“You go first, Flo”

That nickname. It was stupid because everyone who knew her would call her ‘Flo’, but coming out of your lips felt different. She had missed hearing her name on your lips, she had missed you.

“I’m just going to say it, okay?” you only nodded. “I lied earlier, I’m not here for work or visiting my family. I came here to find you,” your lips parted in disbelief. “Ever since we broke things apart, I had been feeling like something was missing, Y/n. And I recently realised it was you. Well, I saw the article about you getting married and all I could think of was that something wasn’t right.”

“Florence I…”

“No, please let me finish,” she cut you off. “I understand that we are strangers to each other, but I would love to get to know you once again. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, it can be like a fresh start. I just really need you in my life, Y/n. I miss my best friend.”

You took another sip of your coffee, stealing time before giving her an answer. The truth was you already knew what you wanted, you knew it the moment you sat at the table, but you wanted to mess with her just a little bit.

You put your cup down, and finally your eyes found hers, “I would like nothing more.”

[...]

Ever since that day, Florence and you had been spending everyday together. Catching up with each other and going back to old habits.

The more you hang out with her, the more you could feel your old feeling coming back. But you didn’t want to rush things just to ruin them again. But one particular afternoon you couldn't hold back anymore and decided to do something about it.

She had fallen asleep 30 minutes ago, you chuckled as you realised her current state because she had picked out the movie but turns out she was more tired than what she let you see.

You headed to your small studio and decided to get back to the song you were working on before running into Florence. You knew exactly what you wanted to say, having found your new inspiration a few weeks ago.

You pressed play and the music started playing, you already had a few things written down in your notebook you just needed to put all your ideas together.

You were so lost and immersed in finishing the song, going at it back and forth, changing some lyrics, singing some ideas, writing and crossing out some bits, that you didn’t realise someone was watching you just when you were about to finish.

You had already recorded the whole song and were just checking it out when Florence leaned in the frame door.

Florence smiled as she listened to your sweet voice. She wondered who this song was about.

Knew her when I was young, reconnected when we were little bit older

Both sprung, I got issues and chips on both of my shoulders

She didn’t want to get her hopes up.

Reputation precedes me, in rumors, I'm knee-deep

The truth is, it’s easier to ignore it, believe me

She felt her heart shrinking in her chest.

Even when we'd argue, we'd not do it for long

And you understand the good and bad end up in the song

She listened closely to the song as you hummed to it.

For all your beautiful traits and the way you do it with ease

For all my flaws, paranoia, and insecurities

Her heartbeat and body temperature were rising.

I've made mistakes and made some choices, that's hard to deny

After the storm, something was born on the 4th of July

I've passed days without fun, this end game is the one

With four words on the tip of my tongue, I'll never say it

She couldn't take it any longer.

“I like it,” she said, getting closer to where you were sitting. “It’s catchy,” she said, trying to shake her feeling away. That song could be about anyone.

“I feel like something’s missing,” you scrunch your nose.

“Sing the corus to me, please,” she looked at you with her doe eyes and you swear you could have melted in that moment.

You shook your head with a smile on your face and compiled, “I wanna be your endgame, endgame,” you finished singing the chorus. “And then it goes. Big reputation, big reputation. Ooh, you and me, we got big reputations, ah,” you sang, trying to not look at Florence.

“You know, it sounds awfully familiar,” she teased, wanting nothing more than for it to be true.

“And you heard about me, ooh. I got some big enemies,” you kept on going.

“What are you trying to say, Y/n?” she kept on pushing you.

“Big reputation, big reputation. Ooh, you and me would be a big conversation, ah. And I heard about you, ooh. You like the bad ones, too,” you finished, trying to tell her that you were thinking exactly what she was thinking.

She was so close to you now, her knees brushing against yours, sending electricity throughout your body. You could feel her hot breath on your lips.

“I want to…” she didn’t finish her sentence because you were already nodding and she smashed her lips to yours in a second.

You felt as if a wave of cold water was washing over you. Her lips felt both familiar and new at the same time. You felt at home as she wrapped her arm around your waist and her other hand cupped your cheek. You didn’t want to ever stop kissing her, but both you and her needed to breathe so ultimately pulled apart.

She rested her forehead on yours, both of her hands cupping your cheeks, caressing your skin with her fingertips.

“I wanna be your endgame,” you quietly sang to her.

She chuckled before kissing you again and again and again.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x fem reader #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh x you #florence pugh fluff #florence pugh imagine #littlexscarletxwitch's fic #Spotify #[🎧⊹♡] based on songs i love

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thisisnottheblogyourelookingfor · 5 months

Text

My Little Sun

Rating: NSFW

Relationship: Pierro x Fem!Reader / Pierro x You

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Tags: smut without plot (maybe a little), reader is Pierro’s fiancée (arranged marriage), softdom!Pierro, mutual respect, mutual pining (alexa play ‘I won’t say I’m in love’), making love for the first time, LAP RIDING!, mentions of Il Dottore and the Tsaritsa, inexperienced reader when it comes to intimacy or relationships in general, big dick Pierro (both in energy and physically), blink and you’d miss edging, kinda rough sex, overstimulation, russian terms of endearment

Summary: Takes place in Pierro's office. Takes place on a chair iykwim.

A/N: I’ve never played the game before so please ignore if I got the details wrong. Keeping this as a one-shot at least for now. Hope you enjoy this little fic! Did not intend for it to be this long. Shoutout to @jinseinomerry-go-round spending the time explaining so much about the game and encouraging me to write this (my inner whore thank thee)!! <3

Sorry if the terms are used wrongly and is cringe.

Word Count: 2209

[AO3 Link]

Minor backstory (feel free to ignore this and imagine reader however you like): Reader has the skillset of a rogue/spy but it was out of the need to survive their harsh homeland rather than using them as a profession. Still, it doesn’t stop the other harbingers and the Tsaritsa from keeping them under constant surveillance and they can never leave the harbinger’s headquarters. They are currently engaged to Pierro for political alliance reasons and is always either in his company or nearby his office, which he spends most his time in. Reader could try and figure a way to escape the place but it doesn’t help when you’re the fiancée of the First Lord Harbinger who happens to have a variety of skills right at his fingertips. No…you’d have to approach things differently.

Terms used:

Милая (Milaya) – dear/darling

Лапочка (Lapochka) – sweetheart

моё маленькое солнышко/солнышко (Moye malen'koye solnyshko/Solnyshko) – my little sun/little sun

Жизнь моя (Zhizn’ moya) – my life

It was just like any other night at the harbinger’s headquarters. Pierro busy at his desk, sorting through paperwork, dishing out the last few remaining tasks of the day, and already planning ahead for tomorrow's briefing. You were in the office mindlessly browsing through the bookshelves. At some point you wondered if you've already passed that row of books and does he notice? Does he think you're acting strange? you shake away those thoughts and picked a random book, making your way to sit on the chair across his desk, trying your best to not do anything that may disrupt his focus. Then again, he never seems to be distracted by you. You're pretty sure that you're just as much of a presence as the wind when the doors to his office opens and closes. It doesn't bother you… right? Still, you insist on staying up with him for as long as you can. It wasn't always like this. Initially, you were always in the same room as him as a show of respect that even though you may not have necessarily agreed to be his intended, you would respect the alliance. But now? Now you find yourself willingly spending more time just being there, with him. There may not be much of a conversation going on but it felt strangely comforting to be in the same room together and you weren’t alone in thinking that. Of course, the two of you would never admit it out loud.

In the midst of your thoughts, he suddenly spoke to you.

"I-I'm sorry my lord, I'm afraid I hadn't catch what you've said" he was reading something, not even bothered by your response before simply repeating himself, "you've spent time in Liyue, I asked if you could take a look at this and tell me what you see".

"Yes, I'd be happy too, my lo-" "Pierro." "I'm sorry?" "Please, call me Pierro. It would hardly seem fitting that a lady in your position should address her soon-to-be husband in such an unfamiliar manner, especially behind closed doors." "....of course....Pierro. I would be happy to take a look at that report for you."

You got up and stood next to him, slightly bending down to read the report. You held onto the paper with one hand while he held the other side. A soft smile started to form on your face, "hmm....glaze lilies...pop's teas...this is Qingce Village! Oh it's such a beautiful place in the Bishui Plains. Did. You. Know. They've got terraced fields of flowers? AND! They were believed to be the scales of a mighty dragon!" You excitedly continued talking about the things you’ve seen and places you’ve been during your time in Liyue.

You hadn't noticed but with how close you were standing next to him, Pierro couldn’t help but look at you, studying your features quietly, eyes wandering to how a smile slowly formed on your face. Eventually, the silence and lack of response from him has you looking at him and… there. Both of you locked eyes and it's almost as if time stopped for a moment. Breaths hitched; hearts skipped a beat. It's not as if you both hadn't made eye contact before so why does this time feel...different?

It felt like forever and suddenly, Pierro reached a hand out to caress your cheek and slowly bringing you into a gentle kiss. It surprised you and you start to lose your footing falling forward, hands hitting his chest. He caught you, lips never leaving yours, he sat you on his lap and deepened the kiss. As soon as the kiss ended, two of you were now breathing heavily and looking at each other, unsure what just happened.

"Apologies. That was..." "No... it's.... it's alright. Really, Pierro. It's...." you didn't even finish your sentence and you just went in to kiss him again. You're not sure why you did that but it felt nice, it felt right.

You shifted your leg to sit more comfortably on his lap not breaking the kiss and accidentally bit his lower lip. Immediately pulling back you started apologising profusely, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" "It's alright, my dear" "I shouldn't have gone in like that, I didn't think it would-" "I'm fine, milaya. Hey..." he cups your face and continues, "you have done nothing wrong. You have nothing to apologise for." "I'm sorry... it's just... I've never..."

"We don't have to do this, milaya." "No, it's not that... it's.... I don't know how."

His smile softens at that, "if you'll have me, I can help you. If it gets too much, you only have to say the word and we'll stop. But whatever it is, we do it together. So....tell me. What do you want, milaya?"

"I.....I want....you. I want you, Pierro. I....I want us to be more than the small conversations, the courteous gestures we perform in front of the others to show that we're merely an alliance. I want more than the silence we're constantly dancing around with, more than the passing glances we give each other when we walk the halls, more than the promise that comes with these....rings. More than just you or me. I just.... I want us."

You were both quiet now as your words ring throughout the room, reverberating off the walls as if a spell has just been casted and the effects made stronger with each echo.

His gaze darkened just then and with a low voice, "take off your clothes" "w-what?" "Do you trust me?" You hesitated if only for a moment before nodding softly. "Then take off your clothes." You stood up and slowly removed your blouse and trousers, leaving only your undergarments. The cold air hitting you now and making you slightly shiver. He then pointed at your undergarments "those too" "but Pier-" he merely looks up at you and it sent a chill colder than the air through your spine. So, you removed them and this time, you were really shivering. See, you're not used to the weather here in Snezhnaya, you'd much prefer the warm sun and the light breeze. How anyone survives the harsh cold here is beyond you. You’ve even heard that some people die if they weren't constantly moving outdoors to keep their body temperatures up. Now here you were completely naked standing in front of Pierro, hugging yourself and trying to brush off the cold to no avail.

"Come here," he pats his lap. No hesitations there, you were freezing. Any excuse to snuggle close to that lush fur coat of his is nothing short of appealing right now. You quickly shuffled forward and sat on his lap facing him, legs unintentionally straddling his thighs as you try to quickly curl up against him. While it doesn't help much, it does feel better being closer to a warm body. Pierro notices your slight relief and couldn't help but to lightly smirk at your reaction. Using his thighs, he pushed your legs apart to allow him space to unbuckle his trousers. The sudden spread of your legs left you slightly jolted as a cold wind hits your folds. Seeing his length free now, hard, you forgot about the cold for a second and just stared. Oh. Well, this would be a challenge. "Touch yourself" huh? Oh. It didn’t quite register in your mind if he just said what you think he said and you were about to say something but the way he said it gave you the sense that maybe… don’t test his patience. Reaching down, you slowly but skilfully circled your clit. As cold as it is, somehow this whole situation has managed to arouse you and you were wet.

Pierro watches you with lust-filled gaze and starts pumping his cock. Never once breaking eye contact as he watches the way you try to hide your moans and whimpers. By the gods is this truly happening before his very eyes? He's not felt such an intense emotion since the fall of his homeland and certainly not for a person, besides the Tsaritsa but that's different. Yet here you are now making an absolute mess of yourself and dripping on his lap. This has got to be some sort of trick. Did he accidentally fall asleep and is now living some kind of illusory experiment conjured up by Dottore? Perhaps this is just a dream. Whatever it is, he doesn't want to wake up from it. Not when you're giving yourself to him so willingly, following his every command. And certainly not when he can clearly see you coming undone, your breath getting heavier and more ragged, indicating you're close.

He stills your wrist just as you were about to cum and stops his own motion. You whined ever so sweetly, music to his ears. "Shh, lapochka." He places both your hands around his neck and lifts you up a little closer to his cock. You were still sensitive from that interrupted high and the months of longing hadn't exactly made you any less sexually frustrated at the lack of touch. You'd never tell him but Pierro has always been easy on the eyes. You do find him handsome and it helps that he's got the physique of someone who can either take you in a fight or take you in well... this. So, it didn't take much to set your nerves on fire and Pierro knows this. Oh yes. He's seen the ways you'd pretend not to walk past a little slower when he changes into his armour, he's noticed the blush on your cheeks when he greets you in the morning with a peck on your hands, or the way you lingered in his office to stay up late with him until you eventually pass out on the seat across his desk with the book still in your hands. What was the book you were reading earlier? Ah yes, ‘Shipping Manifest: Logbook #3’ an interesting read. Seeing you slowly unravelling and for him nonetheless, makes him so proud and very excited. Oh the things he wants to do to you.

He teases your entrance with the tip of his cock. You gasped a little. Sensing your nervousness, he asks softly "do you want to stop, lapochka?" You let out a quiet no and with that he lifts you up gently, lining you to the tip before slowly guiding you down on his length. Inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to his girth. The last thing he wants is to hurt you.

You held onto him tighter, arms still around his neck as you steady yourself down. He's big and it is your first time. The moment you were almost halfway through, you realise you've been holding your breath. You let it out shakily and closed your eyes. Pierro began rubbing the nub of your clit to ease away the discomfort. It was starting to sting and your eyes were watering now but the way he was playing with your clit kind of offset the pain. It was overwhelming. It was pain. It was pleasure. It's too much and it's not enough. You let out a cry as Pierro suddenly shifted his hips and thrusted into you hard while slamming you down to the base. Your vision turned white and you swear you could see stars swirling about. The shock cutting off your yelp and your mouth was just left open, no words or sound coming out. The impact pushed you so close to the edge that when you finally came to, the air left your lungs in a loud and uncontrollable moan. He made shallow thrusts until you cum for the first time that night. But he did not stop there. He continued riding you through the high and this time with deep long thrusts. Holding your waist up and letting gravity slam you back down. The sensations were making you hazy. You buried your face in the crook of his neck as he continued to thrust harder and faster into you. Before you know it, you were calling out his name and cumming all over his cock again.

Your whole body slumped against his chest, exhausted. He's going slower now, giving you time to catch your breath. Then, he slowly picks up the pace, and you can't help but to moan into his neck, the sound vibrating against his skin. Your eyes were still closed and sleepiness were weighing on your eyelids. He coaxes you to open your eyes and directed your sight towards him going in and out of you. Something about it makes you feel warm. The sounds of the sloppy wetness like a symphony. With his free hand, he gently turns your face to look at him "Moye malen'koye solnyshko... My little sun...zhizn' moya…do you see it? How we fit together? How we are made for each other?" He brings his forehead against yours while softly rubbing his thumb against your flushed cheeks as you start to feel your climax building again and as you go over the edge, breath hot and heavy against his skin, he runs his hand behind your back soothing you. Softly whispering in your ear "shh... I've got you solnyshko... I've got you."

#pierro genshin impact #pierro x reader #reader insert fic #pierro #reader #fic #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #userthisblog

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hush-house-yard-sale · 7 months

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The Hush House Card Catalogue

@baja-blasted @terephin (please ignore the crabs)

//So the software I'm using to keep track of my books, lore bits, etc. is called Seatable! It wasn't my first choice for this project, I'm more familiar with Airtable (I've used it professionally), but Airtable's free plan doesn't let you color-code :c

//Seatable is a website that looks a lot like google sheets, but instead of building a spreadsheet, you're building a database. I knew I wanted a database rather than a spreadsheet for my card catalogue because it became pretty apparent early on that a spreadsheet would mean a lot of duplicate entries and be a lot more work to maintain, as well as monumentally more work if I wanted to use it for reference.

//My database isn't finished, and so I'm not really comfortable making it public, but I'm happy to walk through some of the things that I like most about it, that made me choose to make a database rather than a spreadsheet.

//The main things that were really important to me was being able to have (and filter by) multiple items in the same column, having lots of cross-linking between the different sheets in the base, and having different views depending on what I was looking to reference.

//These are my different tables right now, and the way they work is that each table has the most detailed information on each item, e.g. Books has the most detail on books, and Skills has the most detail on skills. But I have columns in each table that allow me to crosslink between them.

//So for each book, I have listed the skill and memory they give, but instead of writing each out individually it links to the corresponding entry in skills/memories

//And then over in the memories tab it has all the detail on the aspects, which wisdoms it can be committed to...

//...and every book this skill can be found in and every item it can be used to craft. And those boxes can be expanded so they're easier to read as well!

//I can also group and sort things in different views. My default view for books, for example, splits them into two categories—whether I've read the book or not—and then sorts the books in each category alphabetically. But I also have one that groups them all by mystery and then sorts them from low to high, and I have another that groups them by topic. Each of these views also omits columns that aren't relevant to that particular view, for example, if I'm searching for books by mystery to give to a visitor, it's important to know the author because it's fun to give people books they themselves have written, but I don't really care about what memories that book gives, or when I'm trying to connect lore dots, it doesn't matter whether or not the book is cursed and I don't need to include books I haven't read yet (and thus don't have topic tags for). The rows on the topic one are also bigger so I can better read the blurbs.

//Well, the topic one actually groups by location, because when I group it by topic, it splits it into every combination of my topic tags, rather that giving me "here are all your books about the mansus" "here are all your books about Longs and Names" so I've stored them all in different places in the house depending on what books I think are relevant to one another.

//It's still in progress, I don't have everything written down yet, and I want more data for workbenches, and I want to try and see if there's a way for it to, say, auto-match skills/souls to workbenches for committing to the tree or crafting certain recipes. Also my color-coding is in shambles bc I'm waiting for a friend to recover from covid so that they can make me a greasemonkey script to make it a little less... corporate...

//But yeah! I like it a lot, and it works really well for my purposes. I highly recommend trying it out, and I'm happy to answer questions!

#Weather Factory #Book of Hours #Book of Hours Game #Cultist Simulator #Databases #ooc

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endworldbroadcast · 12 days

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The most likely answer is probably 'depends on context,' I know, so please choose the one that applies most often. I would appreciate it if somebody reblogged for a better sample size because, like, three people follow me... lol

Additional question that you can elaborate on if so desired: are you 'neurodivergent' in any way?

Personal unnecessary schizospectral commentary that spurred this question, feel free to ignore:

In my personal case, it's almost always the last one. If I talk to someone directly I'll either quote them directly/append to a reblog instead of tag-rambling.

I'm obviously not Normal about how interaction is conducted though so I'm not comfortable using myself as a standard of evaluation: I'm almost always 'talking to myself' even when I'm talking to someone directly. Like, in my head if you say something to me and I answer you I don't 'feel' like I'm talking to you even when... I'm directly talking to you... I feel like I'm talking to myself out loud and incidentally another person sometimes hears me.

I feel like this makes even the most basic conversations with me very cumbersome because it's difficult for me to account for my self-speaking quirks like inside references, pronoun confusion, and an overall 'odd' and maybe even aggressive/rude tone. I've been told before both online and offline that I often seem 'surprised' or 'cagey' in a conversation as if a stranger suddenly approached me... even if the conversation's been ongoing for a bit.

I have a lot of perceptual weirdness that obviously links to this [ the whole 'other people are all the same person' and other anomalous time/space experiences which makes me sort of uncertain about the existence of myself or other individuals even when they're literally there ].

Anyway, a particular schizoid/avoidant case study that I read once that stuck out to me all this time was this person talking to somebody, and then they left while the other person was speaking without warning to get a notepad since they wanted to write down something the other person was saying. When they came back, justifiably the other person was angry and confused on why they just walked out.

It hadn't even occurred to the person who got the notebook to tell the other person 'Hey, I'm gonna get something first, be right back'—like even as they were already talking to that person they operate as if they're 'alone'.

That's a specific scenario not necessarily fully relevant to the question I asked above, just sharing it as the context of what made me think of it to begin with. lol. It may be more of a 'discrepancy' between me and 'tumblr culture' however.

#poll #d #schizoid tag #schizotypal tag #schizoposting #if nobody answers this poll that is okay. I have thr Buddha nature

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callsign-bunnie · 10 months

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I don’t usually send asks but i need more western au. Please.

I am working on a second part, but I'm going to use this for headcanons

Price, alpha, traveled from England to the US for opportunities because an old flame left a young child (Gaz, omega) with him and also he ends up adopting Roach, omega, later (leave me alone, it works)

Laswell, alpha, has a ranch fairly close to his farm and they help each other out during hard seasons or when one or the other hits troubles, her wife has become a mother figure for Gaz and Roach

Alex, alpha, is a cowboy coming to see Laswell, who he formed a parent/child relationship with when he was young, when he gets attacked and shot by some train robbers in a sort of "wrong time, wrong place" scenario

Alex manages to drag himself to a nearby farm which ends up being Price's farm and Price reluctantly lets him stay in the barn to heal

Gaz has some mild nursing knowledge so he helps him recover

Alex asks for work when he starts to recover

Price needs the help so he accepts it, but he keeps an eye on the Alpha, because he doesn't want some random dude getting with his omega son

Gaz gets a massive crush on the alpha while nursing him back to health and blatantly ignores Price when he tells him not to talk to the alpha alone

Alex does his very best to be respectful and keep a distance from Gaz, but he ends up falling hard for Gaz, too

Rodolfo, omega, and Alejandro, alpha, were childhood friends/sweethearts in Mexico, but after Alejandro's brother killed their father and framed him for it while traveling through the US, he goes on the run, trying to clear his name

Rodolfo "follows" him through the US so when Alejandro does clear his name, they can finally settle down

Alejandro met Ghost, alpha, who is sort of a mercenary, though he's known as an outlaw, when Ghost was trying to track him down

Ghost believes Alejandro and switches to helping him clear his name

Ghost helps Alejandro link up with Rodolfo when they can

Eventually, Rodolfo comes to stay with Price around the same time Alejandro finally manages to clear his name

Soap, omega, works at the brothel in town

He and Roach have been flirting for a while, but both are afraid to make a move for various reasons (they're both omegas being the main)

Ghost meets Roach when he and Alejandro track Rodolfo down again and Roach is in town

Roach introduces him to Soap and both omegas seduce him into bed with them

Ghost does not know Price is Roach's dad, because he ends up meeting him and Price knows Ghost from when Ghost was a kid and Ghost is like "shit"

Valeria, alpha, is a well known outlaw who runs a ring of very skilled bandits, obviously known as El Sin Nombre

Graves is a mercenary, don't worry my OC WILL show up

Nikolai, alpha, came for work, ends up opening a general shop up in the town and he and Price have a secret affair

Do you want to be added to this taglist? Reply to this post that you wish to be added to the taglist and I will start to tag you in it every time I post it. You can also use this form!

Ships: @the-pluto-828 @Humanmilkerr @vergilnelosparda @cathsolos @thegodofsleep @lieutenant-storm @roachboy @toasterduck23 @del79jji @thisisthedarknessofmymind @stardust-medic99 @spacedout-ace @wittymanatee @captainsimcoe @thatnerdnamedtj @snootlestheangel

AU Headcanons: @sinclairbrosbathmat @vergilnelosparda @lieutenant-storm @roachboy @del79jji @stardust-medic99 @thatnerdnamedtj

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kakarorin · 4 months

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Defending "The Road to El Dorado" from a couple racist claims, or how I, being so cheeky, like to call it: Covering myself in sugar in order to attract some nasty little bugs🐞

For some reason, 2024 seems to be the year when I can't tolerate "The Road to El Dorado is packed with racism" discourse anymore. A couple days ago, I stumbled across a very colourful gifset which encapsulated perfectly all the objectively wrong arguments (save for half... one... one and a half... It depends) I've ever seen people give out to explain why they don't like the movie (@/neechees: If by some unlikely chance you're reading this, I wish we could have talked about it calmly. I'm a very open-minded person, unlike you seem to be). I've seen them SO many times that I think I hit my limit. Long story short, I got defensive, which I regret, shame on me, told the op they were wrong, as they are, op responded, and I got blocked before I could respond back. I honestly don't know why they blocked me after responding. I don't know if they sensed I know much more about the Aztec Conquest than they do, but well... Occam's razor.

After I calmed down, tried to reach to them because I genuinely wanted to talk about it, and failed, I decided I was going to break their post down as minutely as I could, even if just to get it off my shoulders and toss it into the void, and polished what I told one of the people who reblogged op's post saying they were right into this lengthy post. Purely because I love debating about movies I love. And boy, do I LOVE this movie.

Before starting, I'm letting you know that, as far as I know, I'm 100% white. And I'm also from Spain (Europe. Clarifying this for the Americans), which understandably gives me the advantage of having lived (and living) through the subtle remnants of the wretched Spanish Black Legend. Yet none of these two things stopped me from looking up historical papers, podcasts and documentaries (further than YouTube's video essays, I mean) so I could understand that this sort of... slander was indeed, part of that concept. I don't see how being of a particular race or ethnicity gives you the right to speak about recorded history as objective facts without doing your research and applying your critical thinking to it, either. Does op think that just because they're Native-American, as they say (just in case, can't believe anything you read on the internet these days), a person who has spent hours, days, months educating themselves about Hernán Cortés, poor Malinche and the Aztec Conquest from serious sources can't have more knowledge than them? Smh, op, smh. It does give you right over feelings, and obviously, your own experiences, though. Hope you still understand that factual knowledge is an entirely different thing.

That being said, at the end of the day, save for the very easy-to-check historical facts (which I will provide sources for if asked, although I believe you can very easily research it yourself), this is my opinion about why "The Road to El Dorado" is regarded as much more racist than it actually is. If you want to give me yours or respond to it, please, by all means, do it. Respectfully and with clear and valid reasons, of course. Otherwise, I'll have to ignore you. Understand that what you read below is the limit of my thinking and reading. Enjoy, or hate. Call me a racist. Send a WHITE meme my way. Up to you.

I'd link you to the post, but I don't feel like it. They blocked me, after all. You can search my blog for it. It's tagged as "neechees". And be sure to read their tags on the post as well, for context. Anyway, here go their "objective truths". Debunking time starts... now:

(EDIT: This is filled with edits. See how my opinion can change and I can clarify or rectify? Anyway, stating the obvious, but I believe Spanish colonization is bad. In any part of the world. I won't give you a single good aspect of it, except for that at least it was based on a different mindset than British colonization. Maybe there are fairly good aspects. After all, they say Romans gave us Spaniards roads and sewage systems. We'd have to take a look at an alternative reality where it didn't happen to make an objective claim. But, believe me, if it had been for me, I'd have pushed Cortés off the ship a good bunch of nautical miles before he reached what is now known as Veracruz, whatever good things he ended up doing. Bear that in mind.)

1. The cultures are mashed up in one city, that is true. But there is no explicit racist (implying prejudice, discrimination or antagonism, as I understand racism, or as racism is actually defined) motive behind it. I don't think it's done out of unthoughtfulness, either. I'm pretty sure it's just done to leave the place ambiguous, because (tell you more later), with Cortés involved and what went down with him historically, that place is much more meant to be Tenochtitlán than the legendary city of El Dorado. They didn't want to make that so explicit because this is a retelling, after all (tell you more later). I honestly don't see how anyone could think that the resulting city and culture are portrayed in a negative way. Sometimes, I'm not even sure these people were paying attention when watching the movie (if they ever did). In fact, if it weren't for the title of their post, I wouldn't even understand the point in this.

2. Oh boy, this is exactly what triggered me to say something instead of just putting it on my blog silently. This is how I know the op has ZERO knowledge about the historical event behind it, because they wouldn't say this is right if they did. There is no such thing as a (EDIT:) sufficiently collective "Spanish lie that Native-American (NA) people believed they were gods" (NEVER listen to a Spaniard who claims this. EDIT: Like López de Gómara. They're delulu), this has never had any kind of historical relevance (in the outcome and influence of history, I mean), and the NA people in the movie are not worshipping the white guys because they're white. The whole plot, arriving in a city and being mistaken for a god because your arrival coincided with an ancient premonition in such a precise way that it is fascinating, is exactly what happened to Cortés when he reached the capital of the Aztec Empire, Tenochtitlán. He was believed to be the reincarnation of Quetzalcóatl, and that's why he could enter the city peacefully and live in it for a short amount of time. The concept of the movie seems to be "What if this, instead of happening to a conquistador (in which is implicit the catholic element) who quickly said he was no god when he realised what was happening (because of the sin of idolatry), happened instead to two atheist looters who are ultimately good-hearted (NOT colonizers, because they didn't try to claim the land or control it) who weren't stopped by the fear to sin and took advantage of the situation?" That's it. The premonition happened to fall on a white man hundreds of years ago (who also came from the east, same place Quetzalcóatl left to and said he'd return from) and so does in the movie story because it mirrors real history, and, again, I fail to see the negative portrayal in all of this because it's certainly NOT because they're white. I think the op also took it salty that I said they had zero knowledge about "the very people they're trying to defend", which I still believe, but this is complex and I'll only explain this if asked. What I meant by that, on the surface, is that NA people also enslaved NA people. I seriously hope op doesn't think NA slavery is more acceptable if it comes from other NA people than white people. Who knows, at this point.

3. This is essentially right. It's the only thing I think is mostly right, actually. It's no problem for me, though. I love Chel, she's beautiful and aesthetically pleasing to me. But I can understand why it may put someone off. All good. However, I still wanna say that the Aila test is just a way of assessing indigenous women representation as positive and negative, and not the work in itself as problematic if it doesn't pass it. The Lord of the Rings doesn't pass the Bechdel test and I have never seen anyone calling it problematic because of that, nor do I need positive representation (I'm a woman. Sort of. It fluctuates) on it to enjoy it. Although I figure I'd feel the same if I were NA, I can't and won't speak for one. So I still give you that.

4.1. This is wrong in three ways. First, Tzekel-kan is not "demonized as evil". He is evil. He's not evil because he's NA, he is evil because he killed, he lied, and he abused his power. There are NA people in the movie who are kind and good (everyone but him, I believe), and then there's him. In every race and ethnicity, there are good, neutral and bad people. And people who are sometimes good, and sometimes bad. If all the NA people were painted in a morally white and good way, that special treatment would come off as positive discrimination to me. Why can't he be a sociopathic genocider AND indigenous at the same time without being considered as racist? Does that mean all indigenous people have to be/are morally white? If all the other NA characters were demonized, I'd understand it, but it's the opposite. Also, Tzekel-kan is loosely based off Moctezuma, the (redundant) emperor of an Empire who enslaved other NA people. And, surprise, just like Cortés, I don't think the guy was evil. I think this is probably another reason why they didn't want to make clear the specific culture. I could see the racism if they had tried to directly compare Tzekel-kan with Moctezuma, I would perfectly be able to see the claim that Moctezuma was a sociopathic genocider, and I'd recognise that as racist. But in this case, it's just loose inspiration. Not a parody.

4.2. There was NO genocide in the Spanish NA colonies. There was NO legal slavery, save for a few unfortunate loopholes (tell you more later). (EDIT: careful, I'm NOT defending his monumental fuck-ups or justifying him in any way, just so you know. In my opinion, he was a fair lot more bad than good, but not 100% bad. If you get me) Hernán Cortés did a lot of undeniably wrong things, but he did good things too. I don't think you can say he was a good person, no person who'd say that would be a friend of mine, but I don't think he was a 100% evil person. Just a person, sometimes good and sometimes bad. Still, when he was bad, he was bad. And what op said about that they didn't care enough about him to write his name properly, BOY how that ticked me off. People, for all you hold dear, you have to CARE to know about such important historical figures in order to understand the history behind them and the outcomes of their actions. Especially within such a sensitive topic. It's when stories like this are ignored or forgotten, that history tends to repeat itself. The fact that I care to spell Hernán Cortés well has not the respectful positive connotation they think, either. And despite what you may believe, we Spaniards do NOT think he did everything right and much less that he was a hero. I think some Mexicans think we all do, but I don't know why. Only the most idiotic "fachas" (ultraright people) do.

4.3. One, he was not enslaved (tell you more later). Two, well, since he tried to mass-murder the inhabitants of the city, I... I do reckon putting him away was a good ending. Jesus, he tried to purge the city of citizens HE deemed unworthy in the name of a divine power (=on a religious basis) with the clear intention to wipe them out. It's clearly stated more than once throughout the movie. If you didn't know, by objective definition, the name of that starts with 'G' and ends with 'ENOCIDE'. And when that failed, he actively tried to drive the colonizers to them. Only because of that, he was technically much more of a genocider than the historical Cortés ever was. Are his actions really justified just because he's indigenous? Doesn't he deserve a punishment just because of it? I see "slavery" (if it were. Since enslaving NA in Spanish colonies was illegal at the time, I'd say he was kidnapped, in the strict sense of the word. Bit funny to word it like that) as a punishment more than fitting for his crimes. I think you all should drill this into your head: ANY abusive leader involved in (I can't believe I'm going to say this, but socially unacceptable) murder deserves to be punished in some way independently of his race, ethnicity or religion. This is something I believe firmly, so you have very little room to debate with me on this one. Do try, if you want.

By the way, I LOVE Tzekel-kan to death. Just the way he is. A charismatic, fanatical, sociopathic fictional high priest who tried to cleanse his city in the name of his gods through murder and human sacrifice, a practice that the other NA inhabitants very obviously did NOT enjoy (well, that definitely rings a historical bell). If you hadn't noticed, or perhaps thought it was impossible, let me tell you this: you can actually love evil characters without justifying their actions. It's legal. 100%. Unlike slavery in NA Spanish colonies at the time.

5. I don't see exactly how spirituality is portrayed as evil. More specifically, I don't see how the movie's actual magic is considered Aztec spirituality. Not a fan nor a hater of Hazbin Hotel, but I've seen one of the demon characters around Twitter using literal voodoo in a very unthoughtfully wrong way. That's a big no-no, in my opinion. And I see a clear difference with this because there is nothing in the stone jaguar magic that single-handedly resembles what Aztec religion actually was. I'm not saying this can't be done in a wrong way with indigenous NA spirituality, nor that they didn't take elements from it (they did), I just think that with all the context behind the movie, here it's just magic that serves a plot function. Aesthetic Aztec/Maya patterns appear here and there, arguably because those are the "places" where it's geographically based (and because Tzekel-kan is loosely based off Moctezuma, who was the religious spiritual leader who received the Quetzalcóatl premonition), but at the end of the day, I don't think it's much more than the fantasy you typically find in a kids' movie. No specific religion was portrayed as evil, no specific gods were portrayed as evil, the magic in itself wasn't portrayed as evil. In the movie, it was black magic because Tzekel-kan, who was evil, used it for evil. Who says that a giant stone cat can ONLY serve evil purposes? I'd use it for good, personally. Maybe transportation. Maybe architecture. Decoration. Festivities. (CW: 26-year-old making a boomer joke) Maybe to instill cordial fear among my neighbours.

EDIT: I've been thinking about this these days and I realised that in the specific stone jaguar "spell", Tzekel-kan needs to toss his poor aide into the mix for it to "activate". That is much more evil than neutral, so maybe I can kind of see this point now. And human sacrifice was part of some of these religions, after all, so maybe it does point towards Aztec spirituality. Still, as it didn't come off as evil to me until I've THOROUGHLY thought about it, I feel like questioning things. Does the "spell" need a human body, or an animal body would have served? The "recipe" doesn't state anything. It's Tzekel-kan who pushes him in. Do ALL the "spells" need a body to "activate"? Maybe not. I feel like maybe I can give you a part of this argument. But still... Hmm. I don't know. We were stuck with an evil religious high priest, but that doesn't necessarily mean ONLY he could use magic. Nor that ALL the magic was evil. But yeah, alright. I can sort of see this now... a bit.

6. I can give you this... for the most part. Knowing it mirrors history, and that historically, it was white men who rid the NA people enslaved by the Aztec Empire (which I believe is what the people of El Dorado ended up portraying, somehow oppressed by Tzekel-kan's sacrifices) of the Aztec Empire (even if woefully just to take their place), I'm not sure it's so simple. I still don't fully see it as plain white saviour narrative with that background info. In any case, I think my mind can be changed about this with the right argumentation. Surely not by a person who has no knowledge about history. Sorry, op.

7.1. For my next trick, I'll blow your mind: Cortés was no big bad evil genocider. He wasn't a golden-hearted saint or saviour either. Frankly, I believe most people think he was similar to Christopher Columbus (of whom I don't know as much, but sounds pretty 100% evil to me with what I have) by default. I'm also very certain they watched the movie and took that version of him as a faithful representation, but in reality he was very different. He was short, he was slender, he was way more charismatic, way less solemn and serious, and he had the reputation of a womanizer. He committed atrocities, like torturing and murdering the last Huey Tlatoani for rumours (Jesus, the Cholula massacre), but he also treated most indigenous people with respect (when he wasn't pathologically obsessed with gold), he talked with Moctezuma as if he were his kin, he always tried to negotiate before grabbing his arms, he listened to and followed the advice of an indigenous woman (Malinche). And once he had done the deed, his reputation was sunk, he was stripped of most of his titles and compensation for what he had done (karma? Possibly), and he had practically no say in the new territories. He went there for the gold above all, and all the crimes he committed were in its name. But unlike Miguel and Tulio (this is the reason why they're not colonizers, only looters), he ALSO wanted to seize control of the land for the Spanish Empire. As an anti-colonialist Spaniard, I can't help boiling up in anger every time I see someone call Miguel and Tulio colonizers. They are NOT coloziners, just like we are NOT colonizers. Our country was, hundreds of years ago. The people who claimed that land as theirs and believed that gave them the right to exploit it for centuries were. And believe me, if we're still here and have descended from humble families for more than 5 centuries, none of our ancestors saw a single piece of gold.

7.2. This is part of a broader topic but Cortés acted in the name of the Spanish Empire, who, thanks to Queen Isabella the Catholic and the laws she passed, considered NA people as citizens of the Crown and therefore could not be enslaved (legally), not to mention genocided. Physically genocided, I mean, because the cultural genocide is undeniable. And still, while so many parts of so many different cultures disappeared, some things like the Maya and Nahua languages were kept. Even if little, that means something. I find some comfort in that, especially when you take a look at what happened to indigenous people in British colonies. In relation to this, there's this something that's been haunting Spain since a thousand years ago that gains relevance when talking about this, called the Spanish Black Legend. Basically anti-Spain propaganda coming from other European countries demonizing everything the country had done/does. It started out of rivalry and envy. Nowadays, it's hard to say. This is why Hernán Cortés is always seen as an evil genocider, but not other colonizers like Julius Caesar from the Roman Empire. It also makes my blood curdle because it sticks with us in the most annoying ways possible. While American people tend to think Spain is part of Latin America, European people tend to think we're dumb, don't know other languages apart from Spanish and only like partying, and our collective international sentiment, especially facing other Europeans, is often shame. Ashamed to say you're from Spain, because there's only so many "España mucho fiesta and siesta" a sane person can take from people who only come to your country to raise the living costs, drink, sunbathe and throw themselves off balconies to jump in hotel pools. Look "balconing" up. God I HATE British people. In any case, to wrap this up, this Black Legend is also why everyone believes the Spanish colonization was the same as the British colonization. By norm, the British predated, but the Spanish generated (in America, because the Spanish DID enslave African people), despite all the horrible things it did. Because it did them.

Lastly, and just because it was also part of op's response, I want to say that I have no opinion about what negative impact this movie could have in terms of being a version of the Colombian legend of El Dorado. I don't know anything about that. I don't understand it, either. If someone wants to explain to me in which specific ways making a movie like this about it could be harmful to anyone (not the legend in itself, I think you can see I know as much), please tell me so I can think critically about it and contrast it. But please, specify the harm and consequences so I can understand them.

Jesus, I'm tired, but I want to say you CAN dislike the movie. I don't give two floating specks of dust whether you do or don't. What I do care about is that most arguments people use to say so are wrong, or rather, lack historical knowledge to support them. Or rather, there is historical knowledge which flat-out cancels them out. There IS negative portrayal on the basis of unthoughtfulness (like Chel and the Aila test), but NEVER in a mean way. On the whole, it's not the unsalvageable blatantly racist skeleton that has to be kept in the closet under lock and key that some people think it is. And, by the way, I'm very curious about why I have yet to see the same discourse about Inca portrayal in "The Emperor's New Groove". Feel free to toss it my way in case it exists and it's just I haven't seen it yet.

If you've reached this point, congratulations. Here's a disturbing little fact about me as a reward: this whole fixation that I have started because in 2020 I had a dream about this Hernán Cortés and Tzekel-kan having sex.

#the road to el dorado #dreamworks #el dorado #racism #chel #tzekel kan #tzekel-kan #miguel and tulio #hernán cortés #neechees #tagging you as well in hopes to reach you. kinda growing fond of you #you go after my little meow meow who did nothing wrong #viva españa hostia #viva vigo. cagon tal #franco franco que tiene el culo blanco

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ceratonia-siliqua · 4 months

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Hi! Super weird question to ask, but, I was wondering if you were the person that wrote a fan fic of Bucky/Peter called “Forever.” On Ao3? If so, I always wanted to know what happened to that fic, because it was literally the best of literature I’ve read on Bucky/Peter. It was so good that I would go back to read it again, and I was wondering if you still had that fic, or if something happened to it, I just wanted to know because it still eats me up to this day that I can’t read it no more 😭. Also if this isn’t who I think it is, then I’m sorry please ignore this!

Hi!!! I'm not sure how old this message is but yes, I am the person who wrote Forever. The reason it got deleted was actually not by my choice. The coauthor was found out to be lying about faking a terminal illness and so she deleted her entire account on ao3 and I believe on tumblr as well. Ao3 terminates even coauthored fics if one person decides to remove it so the entire thing was removed and I have just never gotten around to fixing the issue because it was so time consuming and during the aftermath I was still finishing by Bachelor's degree and didn't have time to sort through and make sure I had all the files. Sadly, after checking it looks like all the files were deleted at some point.

But! I do have some good news! Ao3 emailed me some documentation of the original fic so I do have a readable version, it's just not formally posted anymore. I keep telling myself I'll get around to reposting it and so I haven't released the link but I have a feeling I might never get to it so here's the link since I feel bad its been hidden in a backroom for so long.

It is the story in its entirety and pretty much all the original information. Really the biggest hurdle to me posting it on ao3 has been needing to divvy things up into chapters and do all the tagging again.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Let me know if the link works. I tested it while logged out to make sure you didn't need to be signed into my throw away account to access the info and it seemed fine but confirmation doesn't hurt.

#Forever fic #winterspider

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hannahwashington · 2 months

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Hello there! Your post about Until Dawn's monsters reached my For You page and I'm afraid I'm uneducated as to why usage of the w word and s-walkers term is offensive and to whom. Could you please fill me in or link me to someone who could? Thanks!

hi! thank you for taking the time to reach out so you can educate yourself. i'm not the best person to explain for a multitude of reasons, but thankfully there's this post that explains the Until Dawn side of it well (though the post doesn't actually discuss UD, just the spirit). from what i've read, the same sort of principles of not saying the creature's name apply to the Navajo creature, though I am far less knowledgeable about that specifically. if i find a good resource, i'll add it to the replies.

since Until Dawn is absolutely a case of cultural appropriation (it was made by a British studio, so, highly doubt Algonquian people were consulted at all, and the text of the game supports this), we as the fans need to acknowledge the way it was handled and criticise it. when not discussing that, but rather talking generally about the game, especially about Hannah and Josh, we must be respectful - so that means not saying the name or at least censoring it.

I'm hoping that, like you, others in the tag are simply uninformed, and not saying it to be malicious/purposefully ignorant.

#until dawn #josh washington #hannah washington #putting this in those tags bc those chars are the relevant ones when it comes to this #supermassive games #ask #anonymous #answered #i hope i answered this sufficiently. again i'm not exactly the best person to ask

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finniestoncrane · 8 months

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Howdy! I', still kinda new to this restaurant But I'm a lady who likes a nice sit-in. Looked up the menu online, so I already know I'd like to order a plain black coffee, and the question mark nuggies for a main, with noodles, and a side of curly fries and a breadstick if you've got any left.

general!riddler x female!reader, word count: 450 content (warnings): this is just. fluff the kitchen is now closed! 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie1500 (to follow or to block) a/n: me 🤝 you: looking up the menu online in advance, the best trick💚

"How is that for you?"

Edward fluffed up the pillow and let you rest your head on it for a moment before offering your criticism, which he waited for patiently.

"It's fine, Ed. Really."

You couldn't help but smile at him, admiring the effort he was putting in to making sure you were as comfortable as possible.

"I promise you, had I known that there would be only one bed in this hotel room, and no sofa to boot, I would have... well, let's just say that my villainy would have extended beyond our main plans."

You rolled over to set an alarm and to make sure your phone was charged, but you spoke to him as you did so.

"Ed. I promise you, it's ok. Travelling is always a pain. I'm more surprised that things can go wrong for you, at least without Batman being involved."

Ignoring your almost churlish remark about his nemesis, he lay down in the bed himself, facing your back.

"Well, even so... If there's anything else I can do for you to make this more comfortable, please let me know."

Quickly deciding to take a risk, you spoke up, still facing away from him, unable to look into his eyes as you asked for his assistance.

"Hm... actually, if you're sure?"

"Of course!"

"It's sort of cold in here, don't you think?"

"Would you like me to go an pester the inadequate front of house staff for more blankets?"

Shot down, but determined, you clarified.

"No, no. I doubt they'd make any difference. I was actually thinking... it's a little bit strange to have such a big gap between us. That's hardly comfortable. And if you were to move just a little bit closer, I might feel warmer..."

You swallowed your saliva, nerves buzzing in your chest. You could feel Edward shifting closer to you, his body inching slowly but surely towards yours.

"How's that?"

"A little closer."

"Now?"

"... A little more?"

Now, with his front pressed against your back, he had sussed you out. Your surreptitious efforts to get him closer to you weren't quite enough to outsmart Edward Nygma. But he wasn't prepared to look a fool by assuming too much, despite the fact he knew that he was never wrong.

"And, uh... Eddie... if your arms are uncomfortable or need space, you can always... put them around me."

Comforted by the knowledge that you clearly harboured the same interest in him as he did with you, and that he was, once again, completely correct in hs deductions, he closed his arms around your front and pressed a gentle kiss at the nape of your neck before softly cooing into your ear.

"And will that be all?"

"I'll see how I feel in the morning, but for now, this is perfect."

#finnie writes #finnie1500

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jazzycurls · 2 years

Text

I want to know what love is -

pt.2

Summary: After years of being stuck in an abusive marriage you are hoping to start a new life with your son. Meeting an old acquaintance awakens feelings in you that you thought were long gone. Will your broken heart allow you to love again?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Warnings/Tags: No use of y/n, angst, PTSD, domestic violence, injuries, brief arguing/raised voices, curse words, hurt/comfort, fluff, future smut, (let me know if I missed something)

Word Count: 5,050

An: Hi you guys! This is my first attempt at writing of any kind. I'm also new to Tumblr and don't know how to create links to a master list. All feedback is welcome, be gentle please haha. Please do not steal or copy my work. Don’t repost without credit. This is my written work, everything besides the characters and plot points by the original writers, belongs to me.

You impatiently tapped your foot as you stood in the checkout line of Bradley's Big Buy supermarket. The lines were extremely long today due to only one cashier manning the register. There was also some sort of party going on this weekend, you had seen numerous buggies of party foods and cheap beer being bought.

Your buggy contained a six-pack along with popcorn and some essentials for the house. You were preparing for the movie night you had planned with Eddie tonight. The both of you had agreed that he would get the movies and candy leaving you to get popcorn. The beer was something you'd thought of at the last minute while at the store.

Your son was spending the weekend with your mom and dad giving you a much-needed break. You loved your son dearly but you were looking forward to some peace and quiet.

You huffed as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, trying to ease the slight ache in your feet. The wine of a baby caught your attention, looking ahead you noticed a young woman in front of you holding her baby, patting and bouncing him on her hip trying to keep him quiet.

She looked to be in her early twenties, still a baby herself. Seeing her reminded you of yourself and how much you struggled as a young parent. You didn't have much guidance and had to rely on the advice of the older women in the park. Although you had forgiven your parents a small part of you could never forget how they had essentially abandoned you and their grandson when you needed them most.

The line shifted and you moved forward looking at your watch noting it to be a quarter past three. At this point it would be nighttime before you got out of here, you thought shaking your head.

Thirty minutes later you had checked out and were walking to your truck. You unlocked the door and began to unload your items into the passenger side.

"Hey muffin," a raspy voice said behind you.

You gasped as your body lurched forward, shaking with fear. Taking a deep breath you willed yourself to turn around, facing your husband. He stood a few feet away from you, his hands shoved into his pockets.

"What are you doing here?" your voice was edged with fear.

"I got the papers," he stated ignoring your question. He walked closer to you, slowly as if he was a predator trying to avoid spooking his prey.

You remained silent too shocked to respond. Your eyes darted left and right, seeking desperately for help or a way out.

Noticing your expression he tensed, taking his hands out and balling them by his sides. "Stop overreacting, I'm just trying to have a conversation with you." he bit out.

You opened your mouth and closed it again, your words failing you. Waiting a moment you were able to respond "Please l-let me g-go, I'm scared!" you pleaded, frantic with fear.

He sprung forward, closer towards you, invading your personal space. His arms slammed into the truck on each side of you effectively caging you in.

A bolt of panic hit you causing you to shout in fear. He slapped a hand over your mouth to shut you up and glanced around the parking lot, making sure no one had seen anything. Tears streamed down your face running over his hands.

He leaned in close his stale breath fanning across your face "I'm not signing those fucking papers, so you can just forget about that." he sneered. Suddenly he leaned back and smiled "It was nice talking with you," he said loudly. He turned and walked briskly in the other direction getting into a red car you hadn't noticed before.

You didn't dare move, making sure he got into the car and watching him drive away. As the car passed you noticed a woman looking at you, none other than Cindy Johnson. Looking closer you noticed that her features were twisted in concern and something else you couldn't interpret.

You had finally gotten home, having gone back into the store and called your father to come to pick you up. You were shaken up and were in no position to drive home. Your mother stayed at their home with your son not wanting to alert him that something was wrong.

The police were called as well and you filed a report of the incident with your father by your side for support. Lucky for you the store had just installed surveillance cameras in the parking and store due to the upsurge in disappearances lately.

You had left your truck after taking out your purchases and loading them into your dad's car. He assured you that he would find a way to get your truck home to you and not to worry about it. The drive home was silent, you were too shocked and numb to hold a conversation.

After you had arrived home, your father made sure to check the windows and called a locksmith to replace the locks on the doors. Once he was satisfied that you were okay he hugged you goodbye promising to call you later.

You were now alone, alone with your thoughts, alone with your anger, alone with the shame of the cowardice you felt, and most of all alone with the fear of what was yet to come. The clock ticked loudly making your breath suddenly catch, all air in the room seemed to dissipate, leaving you gasping for breath.

Blood pounded in your ears and you stood up in a panic trying to regain control of your senses. Your chest heaved up and down frantically as you clutched your chest in alarm, unable to catch your breath.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door catching your attention. Still gripping your chest, you stumbled to the door throwing it open. The panic you felt outweighed the thought of who could be on the other side, hoping that whoever it was could help you.

Eddie stood smiling cheesily on the other side arms full of tapes and goodies. His face quickly fell at the state you were in. Dropping everything on the porch he rushed to your side kicking the door closed.

"Hey, hey it's okay," he said softly, as he walked towards you slowly. "C-can I touch you? "I just want to help," he said sincerely holding his arms out to you.

You nodded frantically, giving your consent.

He quickly wrapped you up in his arms rubbing your back soothingly. "Take deep breaths, in and out kay"? "On three," he urged you calmly. "One....two....three.....One....two....three...." he repeatedly counted.

Your head laid upon his chest, fingers twisted in the fabric of his shirt as you desperately inhaled and exhaled on his count. Tears streamed down your face at the exertion on your body.

Slowly he lowered you both, sitting on the floor. He turned you around so your back was pressed to his chest. He continued to count and began to breathe in and out himself, allowing you to follow the rhythm of his breathing.

Leaning back you close your eyes, focusing on his words and breathing. You increase your inhale in and exhale out as you struggle to regain control of your breathing. He rubs your arms soothingly, keeping you grounded and centered.

Moments pass and your nerves finally settle allowing your body to function normally. You feel sore, your chest aching from your battle to breathe. Sitting up slowly, you move forward to get up, stumbling back to your knees.

"Whoa, whoa— take it easy,” he urges catching you before you fall. He helps you up, walking you over to the couch and setting you down gently. He sits beside you grasping your palms and begins to massage comforting circles into the back of your hands.

You avoid his eyes as a wave of shame washes over you, embarrassed that he had to witness you having a panic attack and also grateful that he showed up when he did.

"I'm sorry— I didn't..." you choke on a sob, your eyes welling with hot tears. You wipe them away angrily, ashamed all over again for having poured all of this onto him.

He pulls you into a hug wrapping his arms around you, "Don't you dare apologize, you have nothing to be sorry for." he assures you.

Fresh tears fall anew, in that moment you felt safe. Safe to let your guard down and release all of your pain. Settling your arms around his neck you lay your head on his chest, allowing yourself to cry as he held you, rubbing your back gently.

You're not sure how long the moment lasts, it feels as if it's seconds and hours at the same time. Once your tears subside, you're lulled into a calm state. Still tucked safely into Eddie's arms, not willing to break away and disturb the peace you feel. He had leaned back into the couch to get more comfortable, still keeping you in his embrace.

"My mom had really bad anxiety" Eddie mumbles above you.

You make a noise of acknowledgment, listening to him intently.

Clearing his throat he continues "My father— he wasn't a good person," "Terrorizing her every chance he could, eventually, he broke her." he stated emptily.

"I was young, too young to protect her, I had to learn how to help her whenever she had an attack," he explained.

You lower your arms to your sides and lean back from him to look into his eyes. They look cold and distant as if he's been transported to another time and place.

"I'm sorry about your mom and that you had to experience that," you say sincerely. "No child should have to take care of their parent."

He nods his head in acknowledgment. "I just don't want you to feel sorry for what just happened," he says smiling softly.

You smile in response, feeling ready to share your story as well. "My husband—" you start, stopping to take a deep breath.

Eddie takes your hand in his, squeezing gently, encouraging you silently to continue.

"My husband abuses me," you continue. "Emotionally and physically," you confide holding up your arm wrapped in the cast. "He did this to me during our last fight, if you could call it that," you state humorlessly.

"He left that night and I made the choice to leave him for good, not only for me but for my son too." "He deserves better than to be raised in a broken home, I'd rather be a single parent than to continue to allow that to happen," you say frankly.

"I served him divorce papers and I guess he finally got them." "I'm not sure how he knew where I was but he cornered me today. I had just gotten done shopping when he threatened me," you said shaking your head in disbelief.

You glance at him before continuing "I guess I just broke down and released all of my pent-up emotions," "sorry you had to witness that" you apologize again.

"I thought I told you not to apologize," he chides gently, tapping you playfully on your shoulder.

"I know, but I can't help but feel awful." "We barely know each other, you shouldn't have to be my therapist," you confess jokingly.

"Sweetheart, I think we've passed the point of not knowing each other," he chuckles.

Your breath catches at the pet name. "Well, that was a lot to unpack," you laugh. Although you still felt like shit and your body was sore beyond belief, you honestly felt like a weight had been lifted.

"Right, I've never talked to anyone about my mom and pops before." He thinks for a moment "besides my Uncle Wayne," he admits glancing at you.

"I'm honored that you were comfortable enough to share that with me" you respond flashing him a warm smile.

"Thank you for allowing me to help you," he replies sitting up a bit. "But seriously though, you're stronger than you think," he says. "Just make sure that you keep moving forward and never look back, kay? he pleads.

You nod in agreement and fall into a comfortable silence as you attempt to process all that has happened. You yawn suddenly feeling yourself beginning to crash.

You cover your mouth in apology glancing at Eddie. "Sorry," you say sheepishly.

Eddie looks at you and chuckles. "I guess that's my cue," he says slowly getting up to leave.

You grab the sleeve of his jean jacket impulsively. Not sure what possessed you to do so.

He stops in place and turns to look at you questioningly. "Everything okay," he asks.

"Yeah, I just— Could you please stay? Just in case if...." you trail off unable to finish your sentence. You drop your hand into your lap and lower your eyes to the floor thoroughly embarrassed now.

Eddie laughs lightly causing you to look up at him through your lashes. You notice that a blush has spread across his features.

He rubs a hand through his hair "Of course, as long as you don't mind my snoring," he quips. "I think I could be used as some sorta bear repellent," he says jokingly.

"Well that's good then, you will stop anyone from coming in here," you smirk.

He laughs along with you, his brown eyes crinkling cheerfully. "Where do you want me to sleep," he gestures around the room.

"The couch is a pullout, it's more comfortable than it looks," you tell him. You get up from the couch and head towards the linen closet. "Are you okay with that," you ask as you pull out a spare pillow and blanket.

"Of course, I think I can manage," he smirks. "It's not like my bed is made out of the finest silk," he laughs jokingly. He stops laughing, walking hastily to the door.

You watch him curiously as he opens your door, picking up the bags he dropped earlier. He closes the door behind him "Almost forgot about these" he explains motioning to the bags as he places the items on the table.

"This was so not how I intended our movie night to go," you say feeling slightly annoyed. At this point, it seemed like it would never get to happen.

He thinks for a moment "I'm not mad about it, it just gives me a reason to hang out with you again," he says smoothly. He goes over to the couch and begins removing the cushions to pull out the frame.

You stand there for a moment, shocked into silence. He can't mean that, right? I mean, technically you're still young but the responsibility of being a parent is what sets you apart from others your age.

"You sure you want to waste your free time with an old lady" you kid as you walk over to him to help.

As you finish setting up, he turns towards you his eyes flicker with mischief "well you sure don't look like one," he replies simply. He sits down on the pullout and takes off his shoes and jacket.

Heat spreads throughout your body at his words. Was he flirting with you or was he just being polite? You hand him the pillow and blanket "well, I guess I'll see you in the morning," you say changing the subject.

"See you in the morning," he says with a warm smile.

"Goodnight," you reply softly, backing up towards your room.

"G'night," he replies.

Smiling you turn around and enter your bedroom closing the door. Quickly dressing for bed, you hop in and turn off your light. You lay there staring up at the ceiling completely awake now.

Your mind races a mile a minute, jumping from one thing to the next. After a while, you hear snoring coming from the next room. You laugh softly as a yawn bubbles up from your chest. Turning over you finally fall asleep.

When you awake in the morning Eddie is still sleeping, snoring peacefully. Tiptoeing by him, you go to take a shower. Once you're done you get started cooking breakfast. As you're scrambling the eggs in the skillet, Eddie comes into the kitchen yawning.

"G'morning," he says blearily.

"Good morning," you reply cheerily.

He clears his throat while leaning on the counter. "Need any help," he offers.

"Yeah, could you set the plates on the table, they're in that top cabinet behind you," you say as you turn the eye off on the stove. The toast pops up from the toaster announcing that they are done and you move to take them out.

"I hope you're hungry," you say as you follow behind Eddie with the food. You spoon the food from the skillets onto both plates. You go back into the kitchen to pour some orange juice nearly dropping the cups when you see Eddie close behind you.

"Let me," he says gently, taking the cups from you and walking them over to the table.

"But you're my guest," you protest pouting.

"Yeah, but you've done enough making all of this delicious food," he says spreading his arms out. "Now, it's time for you to relax and enjoy the meal you've prepared," he tells you as he pulls out your chair.

"Thank you," you beam flashing him a smile. "Such a gentleman," you say before taking a bite out of your food.

"That's a first," he laughs as he begins to eat.

You fall into a comfortable silence as you eat your food making small talk in between bites.

Eddie is the first to finish letting out an exaggerated sigh and patting his stomach. "Wow, that was the best meal I've ever had," he exclaims. "Wait that may be the only meal I've ever had," he jokes.

You roll your eyes and grin as you get up to clear the table. Eddie beats you to it saying "please, I insist."

"Only if you let me help, non-negotiable," you reply crossing your arms with a smirk.

"Deal," he says.

After cleaning the kitchen, you both moved to the living room to clean that area as well. You folded the comforter and put it, along with the pillow back into the closet, while Eddie folded the couch back into position.

You worked in silence, once everything was finished you sat on the couch and sighed. Eddie took a seat beside you, close but not enough to invade your space.

"What do you have planned today," he asked you suddenly.

"Nothing really, I was going to go down to the mechanic later and get my brakes changed," you replied.

He perked at that and turned to you suddenly his dark eyes widening "I can totally do that for you," he exclaims.

You laugh at his sudden outburst, he was so expressive, often reacting without a second thought. You wished that you could be as carefree as he seemed.

"Are you sure?" "I don't want to ask something of you that you're not comfortable doing," you reply carefully. You don't want to offend him by questioning if he is capable to do the job.

"Of course, I work on my van and my uncle's car all the time," he says proudly. He points a finger to his chest and continues "I might not look it but I'm pretty handy with repairs.

"Well, in that case, I would be much obliged if you did fix them," you implore batting your lashes theatrically.

"Anything for you sweetness," he responds. "Do you have the parts," he asks.

No, I don't even know what type of part to get," you admit. "I was hoping that the mechanic would already have what I needed."

"That's okay, I can help with that too," he grins. "So, when do you want to go to pick up the part?"

"Anytime you're ready, also could we use your van to pick it up?" "My dad is supposed to be dropping off my car sometime later today," you say, rambling a bit.

"Well, I guess I'll go and get ready now," he says standing up.

You stand up as well and start walking with him towards the door. You step out onto the porch and bask in the sunlight for a moment tilting your head towards the sun, smiling. Just as quickly, you turn back to Eddie to find him facing you with a brow raised.

"Just recharging my batteries," you quip.

"Okay, so you're going through photosynthesis then, got it." "How often should I water you?" he deadpans.

Ewe! Eddie that's so gross," you titter giving him a light shove.

"Hey, I meant water," he argues laughing. He stops suddenly and wiggles his brows at you "what did you think I meant?" he questions.

You gasp, lowering your head to let your hair cover your flushed smiling face. "N-nothing, I d-don't know what I meant," you stammer. Pushing him off the porch you squeak out "Okay, bye! See ya later!"

He hops down your steps grinning mischievously. "See ya later neighbor," he sings skipping down the trail to his house.

You groan as you go into your home shutting your door. I wonder how many times can one embarrass themselves in one day you think as you go to get dressed.

You wait about an hour, giving Eddie time to get ready before leaving your home to meet him. As you're locking up the trailer you hear someone clearing their throat loudly.

Turning to your side you see Mrs. Brenda sitting in her rocking chair. "Hi hon, how are you today?" she asks.

You walk towards the steps of her porch and lean against the railing. "I'm doing fine, I had a rough day yesterday but I'm doing much better," you say.

"Oh no, I'm glad that you're feeling better," Is everything going to be okay?" she says worriedly.

You start to recount everything that happened yesterday, feeling comfortable doing so since she pretty much knows the history between you and your husband. With her being right next door, she's heard a lot of the fights and arguments between the two of you.

She listens patiently waiting for you to finish. "I'm sorry, that happened to you honey," she says taking your hand in hers.

"That man, and I use that word loosely, needs to be put down like the rabid dog that he is," she says venomously.

Your eyes widen, you've never heard her speak ill towards anyone before. "Mrs. Brenda!" you say amazed.

"It's true, and if I catch him around here, ill pop a cap in his ass," she says matter of factly.

You laugh deeply, holding your sides. "I thank you but I can't let you do that," you pause trying to contain the giggles. "We'll just leave it to the authorities okay?"

"Um hmm," she says as she starts rocking her chair again.

You sigh exasperatedly, "Mrs. Brenda, I'm serious I—," you're cut off abruptly by the sound of tires rolling over gravel.

Eddie pulls up in his van, rolling down his window. "Hey gorgeous," he yells out while leaning out the window and waving.

Your eyes furrow in confusion, and you lift your hand waving back shyly.

Before you can respond Mrs. Brenda speaks "Hello, hot shot," she says swooning like a teenage girl.

He looks at you with a smug smile, "Hey, you ready to go?"

You mumble goodbye to your neighbor and sulk over to the van. Eddie leans over and opens the door before you can reach it. Hauling yourself into the van, you settled down in your seat and fastened your seatbelt.

Eddie looks at you with an arrogant grin "Hey gorgeous."

"Shut up and drive," you say staring pointedly at the road with a heated flush across your face.

After you and Eddie return from your trip to the auto store. You find that your father had returned your car while you were gone. Your heart warms at how he handled everything for you, so you didn't have to. You make a mental note to thank him as soon as possible.

Eddie drops you off in front of your house and drives off to go park. You look in the flower pot by your steps and find your car keys. You had told your dad where he could leave the keys just in case you were gone.

Eddie comes around the corner with his toolbox and a jack stand. He has his hair up in a bun with tendrils of hair hanging freely. "Wow, you really are a handyman huh," you exclaim, peering at all the tools peeking out of the box.

His face and the tips of his ears turn red at your acknowledgment. He smiles in response and quickly gets to work. It's still early out and the sun is high in the sky. You sit on the porch watching for a while before heading inside your trailer.

You go to the kitchen to make sandwiches and fix some lemonade. You're done in no time and go back out with the food and drinks. As you sit everything down on the small table outside, you notice Eddie sitting on the ground with his back to you.

He's close by the wheel which is suspended in the air by the jack. Due to the humid weather, he has forgone his shirt for comfort.

Your mouth goes dry as you openly stare at his back, feeling safe to do so since his attention is focused elsewhere. His skin is pale and smooth with beauty marks dotted here and there. He's lean but still has a naturally toned build.

You watch as the muscles in his back swell and rise, straining as he exerts pressure on the task at hand. Finally, he gets the worrisome part on. You quickly avert your gaze to pick up the food and drink.

"Lunch break?" you ask with a smile.

"He turns to you smiling fondly "sure," he says setting down his tool. Dusting off his hands on his faded ripped jeans, he picks up his shirt and wipes the sweat from his brow.

You hand him the plate of sandwiches and the cup of lemonade as he sits beside you on the steps. You're silent, lost in your thoughts, as Eddie devours the food you prepared.

"Thank you," he says getting up and setting the plate down in his place.

"Is there a lot left to do?" you wonder as he goes back to his task at hand.

"Not really, I took off the old brake pad and caliper. I'm almost done putting on the new one," he says.

"Oh," you say, not really understanding.

He laughs a little as he puts another one of the parts you bought from the store. "I'll be done in about thirty minutes."

You hum in response, getting up and picking up the plates along the way. After washing the dishes you call your mom to check up on your son. He tells you about all of the fun he's having and you listen with a smile on your face. After a while, you say your goodbyes, telling him you love him before hanging up the phone.

As you walk back outside you see that your truck has been lowered and Eddie is putting his tools back in his box. He looks at you over his shoulder and hands you the keys.

"Alright, time to test those bad boys out," he says.

After you drive around the park at 10 miles per hour, tapping on the brakes. You can finally drive your car safely without Fred Flinstoning the brake pedal.

Once you've parked your truck, you are once again in front of your steps with Eddie beside you. You turn to him with a grateful smile on your face.

"Eddie, I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate everything you've done for me," you choke on your words a bit, as you start to feel a little emotional.

He stands there smiling, patiently waiting for you to finish.

Tears well up in your eyes as you look up at him, smiling softly. "Even though we haven't been for long, you are a great friend and I'm thankful for you."

He stiffens slightly at your admission but you are too busy wrapping your arms around him to notice. He hugs you tightly to him and you lay your head on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He lays his head on top of yours, rubbing his hands along your back for comfort.

You stay there a moment basking in his embrace. His scent is strong but not overbearing, the smell of his cologne, cigarettes, and off-brand laundry detergent creates a perfect blend of fragrances.

You're the first to pull away with a smile. "Thanks again Eddie, for everything," you whisper.

"Anytime sweetheart, what are friends for?" he smiles back at you warmly.

Your stomach turns at his response but you choose to ignore it. You tell him goodbye and promise to make plans for the movie night soon.

His words echo in your head over and over 'what are friends for?' Sleep doesn't come easy for you that night.

Next Chapter

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siconetribal · 1 year

Text

Put It On My Tab: Chapter 3

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Tag: @vbecker10

Warning: Cursing

Summary:

Everyone deserves time off, and the vigilantes of Gotham are no exception to the rule. The boys decide to take a weekend to let loose. Who knew a few drinks would lead to a stranger in bed?

Author Note (updated 12/15/22):

I don't know how or why this got deleted, so I'm posting it again. Here are the links to the other parts for new readers:

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

PLEASE READ WARNING ALWAYS.

Aside from the occasional whirring of the computer fan trying to cool down the tower and the creak of the computer chair every time Jason moved, the room was silent. Leaning back again, he let his head hang back and let out a loud groan, swiveling to one side until his monitor was just in sight. Still not on yet. He fussed with his hair, the pop of white in the front mixing with the black before falling back into its usual place. He was disgruntled and now growing impatient. “Another fifteen minutes, the hell is going on?” He muttered at the lack of message from “IAmBatman”.

Though he was not an avid gamer, he did dabble in the periodic pastime. When his brothers insisted he try online gaming, he did what any moody loner sibling did and ignored them. However, after enough pestering, he caved and gave it a shot. He lingered in the town/lobby area of the game, buying or creating items, until he felt prepared enough to look at the request board that he usually ignored. There were a bunch of different requests floating around, but he had no intention of randomly selecting one. He needed a good quest where he could contribute. He was not going to ride a bus, nor did he want to be the bus. It was a simple enough restriction…or so he thought.

Very quickly it became clear that at this hour only those who were very skilled or not skilled enough were around. A middle ranger like him was too good or not good enough. Not wanting to be a quitter, Jason stuck to his restrictions and scrolled through the board. He would exit the list and reread again, hoping a refresh would populate new ones. After the fourth refresh and seconds from him rage-quitting out of frustration, an interesting username caught his eye. There, in black ink, was “IAmBatman” requesting help. He could not help the loud snort that came from him as he accepted the task. He needed to see this avatar for himself. It had to be some buff male avatar all black or modded to look as close as possible to the black cowl wearing vigilante. What greeted him was an avatar that was outfitted to look like his vigilante alter: Red Hood.

Jason nearly choked on his water when he saw it. The player had a username calling himself Batman and was dressed up as Red Hood? This had to be some sort of prank. Grabbing his phone, he opened the group chat with the other bat-boys and demanded who was behind this. Anyone available was utterly confused and insisted they had no idea what he was asking about. Snapping a picture, he sent it and asked again. The response? Damian demanded to know what buffoon would mix the two, Dick was sending laughing GIFs, and Tim wanted to meet the genius who was trolling him. It was obvious none of them has a clue on whom this player was, but they all wanted to meet him now.

<You know you’re dressed as Red Hood, right?> He sent into the chat.

<Yeah, so?> IAmBatman responded.

<Who says I’m not?> He stared at his screen and rolled his eyes. <Have you ever seen me and Batman in the same room?>

<I’ve never met you.>

<Which means you haven’t, so you can’t say I’m not.> He let out a small chuckle at the silliness of the argument.

<OK, “Batman”, what’s the plan?> And that was how he made friends with “IAmBatman”. Now, here he was sitting and waiting for the fake crusader to sign in.

I know I’m not the most punctual thanks to my line of work, but IAmBatman is never this late without giving some kind of heads up. Did something happen? They did say they’re living in Gotham, troubles everywhere here. He frowned, tapping his fingers on the table. Another eternity passed by (five minutes). “Forget, I’m logging out. I’m just gonna read, I waited long enough.” He fixed his posture in his chair and wheeled it closer to the table, grabbing his controller. With a few presses and pushes, he was staring at the dialogue box that asked him if he was ready to sign out. His thumb was primed and ready to confirm it, but he could not. Frustrated with himself, he exited the screen and went back to idle. I don’t need to log out, I’ll just grab a book and read. “If they come on, and I miss it, I miss it. So what? They can wait, just like I’ve been.” He pushed his chair back and hopped off the seat, making his way over to his filled bookshelf. Searching through the titles, he grabbed the one he was currently working on and made his way back to the desk.

“Now, I’m just going to sit here and enjoy my book. If they log on, and I miss it, oh well. They can wait as long as I did.” Kicking his feet up on the table, he leaned back and slouched a little into the perfect slight curl before opening to his bookmark. Now his night would not be a waste. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he jumped into the world within the pages.

What felt like the tenth eternity of the night rolled by as he heavily dropped his feet to the floor and sat up. How many times have I read that stupid line? If anyone asked me, I wouldn’t be able to tell you the fuck I even read! He audibly groaned, scrubbing his face with his hands. Did he dare look at the clock? He widened the gab between his index and middle finger to peek at the clock on his wall. “For fuck’s sake, only three minutes?!” He nearly chucked the book in hand at the offending time piece on the wall. “I’m going to go insane, this is it! This is how I, Jason Todd, actually die. Insanity from waiting online for some stranger to come play games with me.” He slouched further in his chair, letting it swivel side to side. Maybe if I do this long enough, I’ll melt into the floorboards. He scrunched his nose and furrowed his brows. This is really pathetic. A ping from the speakers made him jump, the chair sliding backwards as he fell forwards, narrowly saving his nose from smashing into the edge of the desk as he scrambled to get up.

<Hey, sorry I’m late. My shift ended late. Are you still there?> All the anger and frustration he had built up instantly flew away as he blindly reached back until he grabbed the arm of his chair, pulling it back under him as he typed back.

<Yeah, I’m here. Took ya long enough. What’s with all these late night shifts, I might think you’re actually Batman 🤣> he replied.

<Crime stops for no man!> He snorted.

<Ok, caped weirdo, what’s with all the late night shifts?>

<Let’s just say I had an expensive date one night, and now I’m stuck paying off some debt 🙄>

“Expensive date, paying off debt? The hell kind of date is that?” He muttered to himself. <I think you owe me a little more detail than that after making me wait here all night.?

<Can’t we just go kill some dragons instead? 🥺>

<Ugh, fine, rude!>

<Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England 🙄>

<Well, Your Majesty, it’s rude of you to assume my gender when we’ve never met.>

<Wow…so sexy…you really know how to get a guy going. Quit trying to distract me and tell me what happened already!>

<Alright, alright! Jeez, so pushy!> She replied and Jason smirked.

I knew it! He thought with a smug smirk, watching the three dots appear and disappear a few times on the screen as she typed. He watched this repetitive animation run for a good handful of minutes, his curiosity rising with each passing second, until a small paragraph of text appeared on his screen. Leaning on to his right arm, he leaned in closer to the screen as he read. “Couple months ago, spent the night with some dude during her high school reunion dinner, they spent the night at a hotel, he trashed the room, and she’s stuck paying the bill.” He muttered aloud to himself as he summarized the details. “Damn, that sucks!” <What kind of asshole does that?! Can’t you fight the hotel and tell them he’s the real culprit?>

<Damn. Do you remember anything about this guy? I can beat the shit out of him for you. I’m pretty good in a fight, if I do say so myself.>

<Ow, rude! We’ve never even met! How can you tell if I’m strong or not?>

<Nice try, but I have sources close to hm. You’re not Batman. Also, was I wrong though?”

<Would my saying yes or no actually prove your right or wrong? “

<Touché, well, the offer still stands. If you need me to teach that shithead a lesson, just say the word.>

<What, it’s not December yet.>

<Yeah, yeah, let’s go!> He chuckled, following her avatar.In the blink of an eye it was nearly dawn and the two of them finally called it quits and logging off. The boss monster was a lot harder than they anticipated, but they finally managed to get the upper hand and reap the rewards. Crawling into his bed, he pulled the covers up to his shoulders and rolled onto his side. She was safe, and he managed to get some great gameplay time after a boring night of patrol. Maybe life was not so bad after all. Yawning, he closed his eyes and let sleep finally creep over him. Yup, a good night. His eyes flew open as he practically went flying out of bed at how fast he sat up. Two words had suddenly come hurdling to the forefront of his mind. Two words he skimmed over in his eagerness to get the hunting on the road. The same pair of words that made his eye twitch from how close they were to his old title as Batman’s sidekick. “Holy shit, there’s no way! It can’t be, but who else says that?!” He let out another loud groan as he dropped backwards on to his mattress. IAmBatman was the girl from the hotel room. Tonight was going to be a long night.

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secondsonaym · 1 year

Text

Okay, so I've had a bit of time to think on it (not that it bothered me that much, but I did want to try and clarify some things), and a sort of 'follow up' to this post in particular.

A little rambly, so under the cut.

Note that this isn't to talk about that specific anon or the specific issue involved in it, it's just a jumping off point, more or less.

I think people do need a bit of a reminder about 'parasociality' and the boundaries that tend to get ignored/eroded because of it.

To get right to the meat of the issue:

I'm ace. I have a complicated relationship with sex and sexual content. I feel bad when I have to bring up these parts of my identity when explaining these things, but I provide them to sort of give you a better perspective as to why some stuff may not be good to say to me. Why I take them a bit personally.

The long and short of it is, I'm really only comfortable with jokes and the like when either I am the one to publicly initiate, or it's happening between my own friends, in a comfortable environment.

It's why I tend to not let some stuff I tag with 'suggestive' to be reblogged, because that's just not what I want to be spread around and get people making the wrong assumptions about me.

Obviously there's nuance and yadda yadda sometimes exceptions, etc. But this is where I stand, and will not budge, because of a history of people continuously being entitled to the point they think they can disregard my requests to respect this.

So, tying this into the whole 'parasocial' aspect.

Yeah, I'm very casual and chatty, I like to be friendly to you all and I enjoy seeing your commentary and stuff, even if I don't always respond--Honestly wish there was a way to 'like' replies like on twitter, cause I usually use it as an indicator of 'I've seen this and it made me smile :>'

But. And this a big but. That is not an open invitation for you to jump straight to telling me things like "I put your OC in a smash or pass discord channel" or things of a similar nature. That's a bit too much of a boundary break.

Like, removing the context, how weird does it sound for you to tell somebody (who doesn't know who you are) that you put their character in a channel where people rate their desire to 'smash' or 'pass'? It definitely sounds weird to me, and I sure as hell wouldn't say it to somebody I barely even know.

I'm a bit skittish to begin with, so it's definitely not easy for me to loosen up and be comfortable interacting with new people, but stuff like this makes me withdraw back into my shell, so to speak.

I don't mind starting up convos, and if it seems like I'm actively engaging in the dialogue, then you have nothing to worry about, but this also isn't an invitation for Every Single Person to hit me up.

On the internet where those boundaries aren't as visibly noticeable--I can't give you body language to show my mood, for instance--It's very easy to not see that stuff, but I really think people need to take a few moments to consider if they're assuming too much about their relationship with somebody before saying something.

I've heard horror stories about even worse shit happening in the fandom, and it makes me glad y'all are so respectful as it is, which is why I'm not getting boiling mad or anything over this stuff, cause I'm sure you'll listen and understand.

And as far as that specific scenario linked goes: I don't care what y'all discuss about my OCs or my stuff between friends/in private spaces and all that. Out of sight, out of mind. You don't need to tell me, and I'm not gonna Thought Crime you.

The issue I'm taking is with the assumption of things, to the point I do need to go on these several-paragraph rambles, when stuff like that I feel should be basic etiquette.

I love y'all and I am happy people enjoy my things, but please let me stress that as far as interaction with y'all goes, I'm really not that much different from a streamer or something. I'm just a person doing a thing, and people like that thing.

Sorry this got a little long-winded, but I hope I at least made my point, and I'll stress again I'm not mad or anything. It's just been on my mind, so I might as well talk about it.

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ashes-writing · 2 years

Text

mine || stranger things ; s. harrington

A/N ; I'd apologize for this but honestly we all know I'm not sorry about it. I got the idea earlier and decided to humor it and thus, here we are. This is not connected to my Henderson!Reader or Henderson!OC writings, btw.

Territorial Steve, anybody?

Your mood song for this is River by Bishop Briggs. Or Pillowtalk by Zayn.

Pairing ; Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Tag List ; @rampagewriting should probably see this teeheehee but like... there's nobody on my Stranger Things tag list right now. If you wanna be added, though.. Click the link below.

Other Stuff ; tag list doc || rules + fandoms/some characters I write for || requests ; open -headcanons nsfw/fluffy alphabet for any fandoms characters I write excluding wrestling only please and thanks.

I do not consent to having my work reposted elsewhere or reworded/rewritten and reposted here. Reblogs -and likes, are loved though.

18+ just to be safe. Don't you dare, I swear to God. If you're not into possessive / territorial actions including but not limited to biting/marking, fingers, body fluids, kissing,teasing, heavy sexual tension, just a real quick fight between Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington and the act of sex being hinted at well... All I can say is keep scrolling and turn away now. Definitely don't read this.

[ not my gif but i love how eddie is like cover up you slut. ]

How do you fall in love?

Harder than a bullet could hit you

Billy Hargrove always seems to find you, to corner you up with no chance at escape. Any other girl at Hawkins High would find it hot, they’d probably throw their panties right at him and lie down - let him do whatever dirty thing he wanted but not you, oh no.

You loathed the guy. He reeked of entitlement and that was only somewhat overshadowed by the fact that the boy smelled as if he swan dove headfirst into an industrial sized vat of Brut. Stetson. Any number of heavy and smothering masculine scents that guys in your school -and probably every high school ever, seemed to think bathing themselves in was a good idea.

Tonight’s party wasn’t any different. You’d just gotten yourself a cup of punch -heavy on the rum with a few pineapples and cherries swimming around jovially that you’d feast on, and you leaned against the wall in Tina’s living room just sort of observing. People watching as you usually did. You’d grow bored, as one does because there’s only so much open groping and grinding a girl can take before that ol’ green-eyed monster sets in, and so you turn to leave the crowded living room. Maybe you’d wander out onto the deck, it was usually quieter out there.

The problem with this was Billy Hargrove. He stood in front of you, blocking your path. Unmoving. Expectant, somehow. When he realized it was you, his mouth turned up at the corners into a lazy smirk. A smirk that still irked you to see because somehow it was just so cocky. Annoying.

Like him.

“You.” the word came, accompanied by the usual roll of your eyes as you firmly planted a hand against the thin denim button up he wore. Every intention to push him back just a little, just enough so you could shove past him easier. But Billy was twice the usual level of drunk and dumb on this particular night so for some reason his brain completely ignored the eye roll and the tone of your voice in favor of picking up on the way you had your hand on his chest. Or the fact that you hadn’t just moved it already. Mostly because you hadn’t pushed him away like you planned yet but it was coming.

You could sense the shift in his mood and you groaned inwardly. Your hand was snatched away from the firmness of his chest with quickness and you grumbled to yourself because it was in that moment you knew.. You’d just fucked up.

He stepped even closer and you stepped away. You even hissed at the guy, this somehow didn’t deter him.

This baffled you because normally, crazy worked.

“Don’t make me pour this over your head, nimrod.” you spoke up as your bare foot tapped against hardwood flooring and you stared up at him, unamused.

Billy wasn’t comprehending. “Aw, c’mon.” he pouted. “E-every girl but you l-likes me. I j-just wanna k-know w-why. Tell me.”

“Well.” you blew at loose strands of hair in your eyes as you glanced helplessly over his shoulder. All your friends were either upstairs making the bases with their chosen person for tonight or they weren’t present.

You were all alone.

It didn’t sit right with you at all.

Billy sober was just annoying but Billy when drunk… He lacked any sense of boundaries, he’d even gone as far as to lick you at the last party you got dragged out to.

He stood taller. His hand against your hip until you lowered your own hand and swatted his away. “Stop touching me, holy shit.” you complained as you rubbed the bridge of your nose. Annoyed. Praying for a distraction. Any distraction, really.

“Answer t-the question.” Billy was firmer when he said it. Demanding. All in your personal space yet again and when you tried to get away, he’d just step closer and get right back in it.

“You’re annoying, okay? You’re annoying and your boundary issues are a huge turn-off. You’re fake, you’re an asshole and you’re too cocky. Are you happy now, Hargrove? This is why I don’t like you. Will you go now? Will you leave me the fuck alone?”

It came out louder than you meant it -no thanks to the short fuse you’d been cursed with at birth, and you stepped away even more.

Only thing is, you stepped right into somebody standing behind you.

You tensed. Were Hargrove and his idiot Hagan going to double team you now? They had the habit of doing so, to tease and harass you until all you wanted to do was punch them both in the throat after knocking their heads against each other repeatedly.

To your surprise, Steve Harrington cleared his throat.

You whirled around and you did it fast enough that the red alcohol laden punch in your cup sloshed all over his white tee shirt. You gulped.

Brown eyes settled on the spreading stain and then they settled on you. Studying you intently. Concerned.

You were distracted by the brighter brown flecks in his irises to notice when he shifted you so that you were pressed closer to him and thus, further away from Billy’s pesky and groping hands or the way he tried to stomp every single one of your personal space boundaries when he was in the mood to irritate you by popping up like this.

“Lay off, Hargrove.” Steve’s voice was calm. Too calm. Deathly calm.

Billy chuckled, the sound was dark. Menacing. “Y-you gonna m-make me, H-harrington?” he steps up, this effectively puts you into the dream position of at least half the female population currently attending Hawkins High.

Possibly even some of their own mothers if the rumor about Billy and his thing for the older ladies that went around last week was anything to go by.

You gulp again. Gazing up at Steve and over your shoulder at Billy. Billy reaches to grab your hips but Steve snatches you out of the middle and you’re behind him so fucking quick you barely realize it. Steve steps up to Billy and there’s shoving. Swearing.

“Fuck.” you mutter, mostly to yourself. Your eyes dart around helplessly, looking for somebody. Anybody to pry the two fighting males apart but then you happen to pick up on something said in the heat of the moment.

“I told y’ to leave her the fuck alone, Hargrove.” -it was Steve who said it and he is furious, straddling Billy’s hips as his fists slam against what all the girls say is a perfect nose and batter his face relentlessly. Billy’s got his hands at Steve’s throat and he’s taunting him about it. Rubbing in the fact that you don’t even know Steve exists but you had your hand on Billy’s chest.

And you don’t like it, the fact that Steve is fighting because of you. You feel so bad about it, you had to do something.

Enter the shoe you discarded beneath a tall stool at the kitchen island after your last remaining present friend coaxed you down from dancing on the bar to some stupid -yet catchy, pop song. You were in a moment of desperation so it worked.

You threw the shoe at Billy just as he got the upper hand. It bounces off the back of his head just as he’s straddled Steve and he’s got him choked and pinned to the wood floor.

His distraction to look back at you in sheer confusion gave Steve just enough time to both get away from Billy and get his arm behind his back while holding his face down against the wood floor. He was seething in anger, you couldn’t recall a time you’d ever seen the mild-mannered boy in front of you absolutely feral with rage about something.

You’d never admit it out loud but seeing him like this was well… Kind of hot. There was something about the way he was fighting right now to defend your honor that had your thighs clenched tight and had you watching intently, flinching every time a hit landed against him. Desperate to do something else, anything else to end the altercation.

You just didn’t know what.

You reach out tentatively to tap his shoulder. “S-steve?”

He seems to come back into focus. Turns to look at you and gets off of Billy. Spits out some blood from where he’s bitten his lip or one of Billy’s wayward punches busted skin.

Billy’s threatening him that this isn’t over, that he’ll kick his ass but you step between them because hell, it seems as if none of their so-called friends seem to give a shit and this whole debacle did start because of you.

Didn’t it? It all happened so fast that you’re not even honestly sure what started it.

“Get fucked, Hargrove. He was o-only tryin t’ get you t’ stop t-touchin me.” you’re brandishing your other shoe because you’d grabbed it a few seconds prior when you thought the first shoe wouldn’t do the trick.

He gazes at the heel and back at you.

“You want this loser? Fine. Have ‘im.” Billy seems to finally grasp the fact that you don’t want him and you couldn’t want him less if you tried and the thought has you relaxing all over as you take a deep breath.

How do we fall apart?

Faster than a hairpin trigger

You turn to Steve and you grimace at the way his eye is already starting to blacken and his jaw is starting to as well, strong features marred by blackish purple bruising.

And you can’t just walk away and leave him be.

You barely know him that well but the fact remains, this is your fault somehow.

You grab him by the arm and pull him into the kitchen. Your hand against his chest to shove him down into a chair at the breakfast nook over by a bay window. And then you make your way over to the fridge and rifle around in the freezer area until you find a frozen ribeye to hold against his face.

You wander back over and you sink down, seating yourself at the edge of his lap as you gingerly press the ribeye against his face. “You didn’t have t’ do that.”

“I did.” he insists.

“No, you didn’t.” you argue.

“Fine.” he pauses, shifting around so that you wind up scooting much closer to him all of a sudden, “I didn’t have to. But I wanted to..Alright?” he holds your gaze and you can’t look away and there’s something… Hungry… about the way he’s looking at you that has your tummy doing a lazy flip or two. You bite your lip and he licks his lips, your eyes catching on the slow drag of his thick,wet tongue.

The whimper slipped out and as soon as it did you absolutely froze.

Maybe he hadn’t heard it.

But then he’s leaning closer, leaning into you and staring up. “D-did you just…whimper?” there’s this hot little goofy smile on his face and you shiver when you feel thick digits digging against either one of your sides. Holding you in place on his lap.

You gulp, again.

“I.. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you answer with a shrug as you try to pretend that this is fine, everything is fine and you’re not suddenly staring at his lips and wondering how they’d taste.

But you’re staring so hard you’re leaning in a little closer. And the closer you lean, the more his fingers dig against your side. His other hand raises, catches hold of the side of your face and the pad of his thumb rolls over your soft skin. If you thought you shivered before it’s nothing compared to right now, this second.

He chuckles and the sound is deep. It’s husky. It’s velvet and gravel all rolled into one. “You’re lying. Why?”

You shrug. Shrugging is easier right now than attempting to make your brain and your mouth work together. Shrugging is easier than telling him exactly why you whimpered.

“Am not.” you insist, pouting at him a little.

“Are so.” he argues, leaning in closer. Close enough that his nose bumps soft against the tip of your nose. Your stomach goes from lazy little flips to feeling as if someone released a swarm of bees inside. Your free hand rests against the front of that white t-shirt and you focus on the stain from your spilled beverage of choice. “I-I think Tina’s got something for the.. The uh.. Stain.” you manage to get the words out and you’re about to pull yourself off his lap but his fingers vise against your hip and the way he’s holding you locks you in place where you’re sitting.

If he knew he was playing with fire right now, you think to yourself.

See, all the other girls may want Billy now. Billy Hargrove may be the new king of Hawkins. But while all the other girls want Billy… You’ve always wanted Steve.

It blew your mind that Nancy Wheeler actually let herself be dumb enough to let him slip through her fingers. And for what?

Byers?

She chose ice when she could’ve easily chosen fire and it always made you wonder about her.

The thought is shoved out of your head because Steve is staring at your mouth intently. Licking his own lips. Steve is looking at you with those gorgeous deep brown eyes and you’re sitting in his lap. What’s more, you marvel, he doesn’t seem to plan on letting you move off of his lap.

“If you’ll g-give me your.. Your um.. Shirt.” you attempt.

He places the ribeye to the side and without breaking his gaze on you, he tugs the white tee shirt up and over his head. He holds it out to you but when you go to slip off his lap he grabs hold of your hips again. Holding you there.

“It can wait. Stain’s not gonna come out.” Steve winces a little as he says it. But he’s still focused on you, staring intently.

“It will if it doesn’t set up.” you argue despite wanting to kick yourself in the face the entire time. Why are you putting up a fight when you want exactly what’s happening?

Steve chuckles quietly.

“Do I make you nervous?” he asks quietly. Studying you intently all over again.

“Well no.” you start but your words die and fall away. You look down, study the way your dress is hiked up as you balance on his jean clad thighs. Your legs are wrapped around him too so there’s that.

He seems to notice it around the same instant you become fully aware you’ve done it. You don’t unwrap your legs, despite knowing maybe you should.

Then again, he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to tell to move them, either.

He leans into you. “That’s gotta be it.” he shakes his head as if confused.

“As if you could make me nervous. Class daredevil, remember?”

Steve snorts when he laughs after you’ve said it. The laughter dies away and you’re both doing it now, the thing where you both quietly stare at each other. You’re still holding his discarded shirt in your hand.

And this party has become the last place on Earth Steve really wants to be.

“D’ ya wanna leave?” the question is quiet. Tentative, almost as if he’s bracing himself to be shot down.

“And go where, hm? Nothing is open after 8 in this hole in the wall.” you ask the question as you dare to scoot up in his lap a little better, this puts you closer to him. You melt against him a little but it’s awkward. Careful and clumsy because you’re still waiting on him to tell you you’re crossing a line of some sort.

His arms wrap around you and you’re caught against him. Your face buried between his neck and shoulders. “You don’t make me nervous, y’know.” you admit it easier because you’re not forced to look right at him as the words finally work themselves free from your lips. You raise your head to glance up at him. The way you’re sitting in his lap means that you can feel him starting to strain against his jeans. He whines quietly when you wiggle in his lap to try getting a little more comfortable -and because the friction from accidentally rubbing against him feels so good you can’t resist it as soon as you realize.

“You act like it.” he pouts a little when he makes the observation, kind of like it bothers him.

The slightly wounded look in his eyes after he goes quiet kills you and you have to… You have to do something, you have to say something because you hate seeing him upset.

“Steve, I..” you go quiet, swallowing hard. It came out so easy just before when you weren’t looking right at him. Stands to reason that it’ll come out easier a second time if the same conditions are met. So you lean into him, your mouth against the shell of his ear so you can whisper what you want to say against the shell of it softly.

“I like you. I like you a lot. It’s not you that makes me nervous. It’s uh.. It’s that.” you feel relief crash over you like a tidal wave when you finally bring yourself to say it. And you’re waiting because in your mind he’ll laugh and this is when things will become awkward as hell… Right?

Except that’s not what happens at all.

He grabs your neck gently and he turns your head so that you have to look at him. “Say it again.” he’s got this soft and wary little grin, a look in his eyes like he can’t quite believe that you just said it. Or maybe it’s the fact that somebody’s saying those words… to him.

“I like you. I like you a lot.” you repeat quietly. The way he’s still gently holding on makes it so that you can’t look anywhere but those magnetic eyes when you say it.

Wordlessly, he stands. You’re still tangled around his body and he’s carrying you towards the front door. You giggle quietly, still in awe that this all actually happened. It doesn’t click that it’s not a dream and it’s really happening until he carefully seats you in the passenger seat of his BMW and plants a shy kiss on the freckled bridge of your nose after reaching across to buckle your safety belt and before he closes the passenger door.

Can't change the way we are

One kiss away from killing

The only stoplight in town catches you on a red. One of Steve’s hands leaves the wheel and settles on the exposed part of your thigh, squeezing gently. You squirm a little and whine before finally deciding that you can’t take it, you gotta do something. One of you does.

But Steve beats you to it, thankfully, leaning across the car and into you as his hand tangles up in the hair at the back of your head and he uses that grip to pull your mouth against his mouth. The closer your faces inch towards each other, the more time seems to slow down. The more your breath hangs in your throat. The more your heart races and the more it feels like all the bones are rapidly dissolving in your body. You close the distance and your tongue drags over the outline of his kissable lips, the soft drag of your wet tongue met by a growl from deep within him as his hand tugs at your hair and his other hand squeezes your thigh like he’s trying hard to keep himself from falling apart completely.

“I’ve had a crush on you all year.” he mumbles husky against your lips as his meet clumsily, “Those cute little dresses, fuck.” he squeezes your thigh just a little harder when he says it, “Y’ drive me crazy.” his tongue drags over your lips and traces your teeth and your mouth falls open with a whine as you shiver all over. “So.fuckin.sexy.” he adds as the kiss deepens and you can already see colored dots lining your vision. His hand creeps up your thigh a little higher.

The light goes green and you come apart. Steve’s driving again and you’re pouting a little because things were just starting to get a little heated. Your pussy is dripping, throbbing. And every single time his hand moves up towards it just a little closer, you get wetter, you’re almost certain he can feel it, he has to feel it.

The wonder is answered when his finger brushes against the wet fabric that barely covers you there. And he swallows down a lump in his throat, gazing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Fuck.” he groans out quietly. He removes his hand but he grabs hold of your wrist, settling your hand in his lap as he bucks against your palm. “That’s what you’re doin’ to me right now, princess.” he groans out.

Your entire body is burning, on fire. So hot you almost can’t breathe. “M-me?” you stammer.

Steve chuckles quietly. “It’s so fuckin cute the way you skip around. No fuckin clue what you do to a guy.”

You rub your hand over the way he’s strained at his jeans and he swears in frustration, his hips arching up to meet the clumsy touch. His knuckles white against the steering wheel as he bites down on his lip, wincing in pain because he manages to bite the part of it’s that got busted in the fight.

You lean in a little, you study him. You’re curious.

Naturally, this curiosity is what lends to you reaching out. Stroking his face with one of your hands as you press your lips to his all over again.

“Now you’re teasin me, babe. C’mon, fuck.” he moans and god, the sound. You’re beyond dripping now, you’re soaked and you can feel the way it gushes down the insides of your thighs. And so can he. His hand settles on your slick inner thigh and he growls this time.

“Is that for me, princess? Hm?” he asks in a low voice as he squeezes his hand against your cunt, bucking his hips upward in the seat.

“A-all yours.” you choke out the words as his finger drags a line from the bottom of your slit to the top. When he presses that finger right against your clit and rubs it’s all you can do to keep from screaming. Your stomach is coiled tight.

“All mine?” he’s torn between awe and a more feral side coming out to play. The car is sitting at the curb in front of his house now and it has been for at least ten minutes. Steve pushes the driver seat back and reaches out, unbuckling the buckle on your seatbelt before pulling you across to his seat, settling you in his lap. Right on top of the way his cock is twitching, pushing against his jeans and begging for freedom.

“Gonna take you inside, baby.” he growls out against the shell of your ear as his lips latch against the side of your neck and suction forms between lips and skin. The suction breaks after he makes a mark you know won’t be hidden in the morning and he speaks up again quietly, “Gonna take you inside n’ take what’s mine.”

“Please.” you whimper as your mouth latches against the front of his throat because if he’s going to mark you up, you’re gonna do the same.

After all, this might very well be some hyper-realistic and intense as all hell sex dream. Might as well enjoy…

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x fem!reader oneshot #// minors dni #// read all warnings + hashtags c a r e f u l l y #// body fluids #// mentions of a fight #// biting and marking #// possessive!territorial!Steve makes an appearance here oof.#// listen i had to do it and something tells me I am.. not done with Steve and this particular 'reader'.

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