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bagofshinyrocks · 4 months

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Giant Dinosaur

Prompt: For Christmas, you buy your man the giant dinosaur from Kohl's. [Requested by @airghostlyfox]

Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: profanity; gaz is ooc but it all felt repetitive

A/N: not super proud of this one, but i hope y'all enjoy it anyway because i thought it was fun :-)

He.

John Price

It was hard to hide a dinosaur plushy that big. But there was a linen closet you only kept tablecloths and spare towels in, and now a very smooshed dinosaur crammed into the top.

Christmas morning, you wriggled free of John’s death grip on you, muttering something about needing to pee. A few minutes later you slipped back into his arms and kissed him good morning.

He smiled sleepily and nuzzled his face into your neck. “Morning,” he purred, beard tickling you a little.

“Morning, baby. Santa left you something.”

He opened his eyes a little more and looked around. Lurking right behind him, spooning him, was the giant dinosaur.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

John jerked and punched the thing across the room.

“John! What is wrong with you?” You were halfway out of bed to go grab the thing before he tugged you back into his chest and pulled the blankets up again.

“Too early for presents, luvie. Not until 9 AM. Need more kisses.”

You didn’t have any real desire to protest with your lover’s mouth already against yours and his arms squeezing you close.

The dinosaur lay on the floor for a while, before John finally allowed him to sit on the bed during the day. Though that bad boy would get punted once it was time for bed. Poor guy :-(

Simon Riley

He found it before Christmas morning. On the hunt in the guest bathroom for some spare shaving cream containers, he pulled aside the shower curtain and hollered.

You came running from the bedroom.

“Simon! Simon, what’s wrong?”

You collided into him as he came out of the bathroom. Strong hands gripped your shoulders and he took a deep breath.

“Why is there a giant fuckin’ stuffed Grinch in the shower?”

You blinked. Then groaned in defeat.

“Aw, damn.” You squeezed past him and plucked the stuffie up. “He’s a dinosaur, Simon.” A little scratch to the plushie’s chin. “And part of your Christmas present.”

“No.”

“It’s only part of your present, Si. You’ve got other goodies waiting.”

He took it from you and gave it a shake. Nothing inside made a noise, so he started squeezing its limbs, its stomach, its face. You looked on, smiling. That wasn’t the usual way of playing with a stuffed animal, but it’s cute.

You must have said that last bit aloud because he fixed you with a withering glare and suddenly you had a mouthful of dinosaur fluff.

Kyle Garrick

Kyle got home the morning of Christmas Day. Well, technically morning, as it was 3 AM.

You picked him up at the airport and welcomed him with a bear hug and several kisses. He was exhausted. Eyes barely open, face buried into your neck. If he were still a little kid, you would have carried him and strapped him into his car seat.

You walked arm-in-arm back to the car, chatting about your plans for the afternoon, all the food you’ve been making, and that Santa had already dropped off his presents.

“Oh, boy, I can’t wait to see what I got.”

“I brought part of it with me.”

Kyle grinned and immediately tugged at the waist band of your clothes, seeing if your undergarments were the present. You scoffed and gave his nose a gentle flick.

You opened the trunk of the car and helped him load his gear in. Sitting in the passenger seat, he saw a large, fluffy, green shape.

“Wha’s that?”

“For you!”

He all but skipped to the passenger seat and laughed at the dinosaur strapped in. Unclicked the seatbelt, scooped him up, and traded spots. You sat in the driver’s seat and gladly accepted all the happy kisses he gave you.

“Thank you, baby, this is very sweet.”

The first ten minutes of the drive home was filled with him saying thank you and leaning over to give you a kiss.

The rest of it was him sleeping on the dinosaur, quiet snores and the same death grip he gave you around the mass of green fluff.

Johnny MacTavish

Johnny burst out laughing when he looked at the mass of wrapping paper next to the tree.

“Steamin’ bloody- What the shit?”

You tried so hard not to laugh as you told him to go ahead and open it. He tore it open like the dinosaur was suffocating and smacked it on the ground. Chest compressions, mouth-to-mouth. Then slapping its face and begging it to wake up.

You may have peed yourself a little bit at his shennanigans.

And it got so much worse, as he decided the giant dinosaur was a punching bag or sparring mannequin. He called it “Boss” and treated him like his number one enemy.

Whenever you put Boss on the couch, Johnny would take a running start and body slam it off. Tuck Boss into bed, and he’d driving-elbow-drop on the motherfucker and the bounce would almost launch you off the mattress. The dino never fought back, but you sure did.

“Fucking launch me like that again, I dare you.”

“He was in my spot.”

“You will be living in the barracks and Boss will get your side of the bed and the sink.”He took more care in reducing collateral damage when attacking Boss, and you got really good at repairing that dinosaur. You didn’t want Johnny to know he was being too rough. Or for him to stop. It was Penelope and her shroud, you and that stupid fucking dinosaur.

Enjoy reading this? Here's a link to my other works! Thanks for reading :-)

Posted: 2024 January 2

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woso-dreamzzz · 1 month

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Jessie's Girl

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Jessie Fleming x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The Natural History Museum

The day that Magda and Pernille need to go to some fancy dinner to represent the club, is the same day they take you to the Natural History Museum in London.

Jessie told you about how she went weeks ago and it's all you've been talking about since.

You manage to wear Magda and Pernille down with all your talking until they finally relent and book tickets. You insist on Jessie coming too and, soon enough, you're all crammed on the Tube on your way to the museum.

You're sitting in Jessie's arms, squished like a sardine amongst all the other people. You insisted to your Morsa about booking the tickets at opening time so you could see absolutely everything which is why the Tube is packed right now and Jessie's holding you so you don't get swept away with the crowd.

Morsa's got one hand on the pole and the other on Momma's hip to keep her close as the doors open and more people pile off.

The Tube is loud. Very loud and it grates on your ears slightly so you duck yourself under the collar of Jessie's open jacket to try and block it out. You squeeze your eyes shut super tight too before it's finally your stop and the four of you pile off.

Jessie carries you all the way through the station before setting you on your feet again and letting you hold Momma's hand as you walk the rest of the way.

You're vibrating with excitement as Morsa gets the tickets scanned and then you're in.

It's your first time at a museum and, for a moment, you look like you're going to bolt so Pernille tightens her grip on your hand to make sure you can't escape.

The Natural History Museum is massive and Pernille knows just how easy it is to lose a little kid like you. You haven't hit your growth spurt yet so you're still on the shorter side and you would disappear amongst a big crowd like this too easily for her to be comfortable in letting go of your hand.

"What are you most looking forward to seeing, princesse?" Magda asks as you all stop in the middle of the hall to stare up in awe at the blue whale skeleton suspended from the ceiling.

"Er..." You think for a moment. "Dinosaurs! 'Cause Jessie says they're so cool!"

"Alright." Magda grabs a map from a pile nearby, unfolding it and studying it like Pernille hadn't caught her looking at the online version just last night. "I think we hit zone red first and go through all the stuff about volcanoes and rocks. Then we'll go to green zone and look at bugs and minerals. Then lunch and after that it should be about time for those tickets we booked for the spirit collection and then we'll round it off with mammals and dinosaurs and the gift shop. Sound good?"

Pernille laughs. "It's sweet that you've got everything planned out but I think our kids are already trying to plan out their own route." She tilts her head over to where you and Jessie (who has crouched down to be at your level) are discussing your own plans.

Magda sighs, lifting you up easily so you can't plan a mutiny on her and starts off towards the red zone.

"Morsa," You grunt," Wrong way! Dinosaurs!"

"Dinosaurs are last," Magda insists," Save the best until last."

You frown. "Like best bite last at dinner?"

"Exactly that," Magda says," We'll go look at rocks and volcanoes first and we'll work our way back to the dinosaurs. Sound good?"

You huff. "Fine."

Despite your original annoyance, you do find yourself enjoying the red zone and then the following green zone. Both you and Jessie are kept occupied for nearly fifteen minutes looking at the fossils of old ocean reptiles and Magda and Pernille rest their feet on a bench nearby.

At lunch, you and Jessie share a big bowl of mac and cheese and Pernille nearly laughs at how excited you both seem to explore the museum - even though Jessie went only a few weeks ago.

"Those are animals in jars," Pernille hisses to Magda during the spirit collection tour," We could be mentally scarring her right now."

"She loves it," Magda whispers back as you (and Jessie) listen, enamoured by what the guide is saying," Who knows? Maybe this is going to solve the problem of her wanting a pet. Nothing like a dead animal to put someone off of wanting a live one."

Pernille rolls her eyes. "You're evil. A pet wouldn't kill us."

"She's enough for us right now," Magda laughs.

By the time the mammal section rolls around, you're complaining of tired feet and Pernille swings you up onto her hip so you can rest and reads out the plaques to you.

Or, she tries to, because you keep interrupting to read them for yourself. You've gotten good at reading even though you're yet to go to school.

Magda insisted on starting you early, teaching you the basic principles of sounding out letters and phonetics to help you along.

Frankly, Pernille thinks it's frightening how intelligent you are at such a young age. You're Swedish and Danish bedtime storybooks are getting scarily easy for you to sound out and she shouldn't be surprised that you're applying the same rules to your English.

"What's that mean?" You ask, pointing at the italicised scientific name of the animal you're reading about.

"It's Latin," Pernille replies," Scientists use it to give a fancy name to different species."

"What's Latin?"

"It's a dead language," Jessie jumps in," No one speaks it anymore. It's just used to make scientists look smart."

You think for a moment. "Morsa calls me smart! Can I learn Latin, Momma?"

"Maybe when you're older," Pernille replies indulgently, not at all taking it seriously.

(She'll remember this conversation randomly when a letter comes home when you're sixteen asking if you could pretty please stop signing up for advanced Latin class because the teachers have nothing more to teach you).

Your feet have miraculously recovered from their aches and pains when you get to the dinosaur exhibit and Magda intervenes quickly when it looks like both you and Jessie are going to bolt.

She grabs you both by the hand and makes you fall into step with her.

"You stay where I can see you," She tells both of you equally," You hold each other's hands. You don't run ahead. If you can't hear me talking at a normal volume then you have gone too far ahead. You turn around and come straight back until you can hear me again."

"Yes, Magda."

"Yes, Morsa."

"Good. Remember your rules. Go and have fun."

Jessie shows you all of the dinosaurs, even down to the very little ones and you listen with rapt attention.

It's the slowest Magda and Pernille have seen you move all day, just taking everything in and hanging off Jessie's every word.

You almost don't want to leave and only the promise of a dinosaur at the giftshop gets you to move your legs again.

You browse for a while and so does Jessie, piling her arms up high with dinosaur merch. Magda, admittedly, knew that Jessie was a nerd in the best way possible but this only solidified it.

"No, princesse," Pernille says firmly when she sees you jumping to reach a jumbo triceratops plushie that said it cost sixty pounds," That's too expensive."

"Momma," You whine," Please?"

"I'm sorry," She says," But you know there's a budget on gift shop toys. What does your Morsa say about gift shops?"

"That they're stupidly overpriced and tourist traps for idiots," You repeat dutifully, sounding more and more like Magda that Pernille has to laugh.

"That's right," She says," So pick out something smaller so your Morsa doesn't complain about being conned out of money for the entire train ride home."

You huff in annoyance but ultimately choose an arctic wolf plushie because it's got super soft fur.

It's only twenty pounds but Magda still grumbles under her breath about gift shops being stupidly overpriced.

"Jessie," Magda says as you and her step out of the giftshop," What the hell is that?"

Jessie, at least, is feeling enough guilt to look down bashfully. "It's for y/n."

"Jessie," Magda says again," That's massive."

It's the triceratops you were eyeing up earlier and you nearly take Jessie to the ground from the force of the hug you give her.

You sit in Jessie's lap during the (much emptier) train ride home and you crash out asleep for your very delayed midday nap.

You stay asleep when you change trains. You stay asleep during the car ride and you stay asleep as Magda and Pernille get ready for their dinner tonight.

Jessie's your babysitter for the hours that they're gone for and you wake up as Magda and Pernille are a few minutes away from leaving.

"Momma," You whine," Don't go."

While your separation anxiety isn't as bad when you've been told in advance about things, it's still present and you still sniffle a little as your mothers gives you goodnight hugs and kisses because you'll be tucked up in bed by the time they get back.

You still sitting in front of the front door with Momma's Linköping jumper and Morsa's blanket.

For half an hour, Jessie doesn't understand how to help you. She's been warned about this explicitly, about how much you miss Magda and Pernille when they're gone.

She thought she would be fine but it's clear that this isn't something she can fully pull you out of.

So, Jessie turns on the tv, playing a random animated movie and just sits with you for support.

Somewhere along the way, you wiggle into her lap, leaning your back against her front and holding her hands around your belly for security.

"Do you want a drink?" Jessie asks quietly.

It takes hours for her to coax you into being a bit more like yourself, gradually shifting further and further away from the door until you're both sitting on the sofa again.

You're lying on Jessie's front, head lying pillowed on her chest as you stare longingly at the door.

One of Jessie's hands is under your top, gently drawing patterns on your back while the other plays with the little baby hairs you have at the base of your scalp.

It's nice. Not quite like how Morsa and Momma do it but enough for it to make you go all limp and boneless in her arms.

It's dark when Magda and Pernille come in from their dinner. Magda drove so Pernille was able to get a little tipsy on just one too many wines.

It's dark. The moon and stars are out but the light in the front room is open and the tv is still blaring some random show that's being shown gone one in the morning.

Jessie's asleep on the sofa, still in the clothes she worse to the museum. One of her hands is dangling on the floor, her knuckles skimming the carpet while the other is wrapped around your back.

You're still in your museum clothes too but you look perfectly content and happy, fast asleep on Jessie's chest.

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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strawbeelemonade · 11 months

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PLATONIC HEADCANNONS: being miles morales best friend but your also a bit insane (Part 2!)

i'm gonna try to remember to start specifying when something is intended to be platonic or romantic.

🕷- I was literally unable to cram everything I wanted to say in the first one.

🕷- Miles is really only comfortable showing you his drawings.

🕷- He's an incredibly awkward guy, but the words come so easily when he hangs out with you. he doesn't choke up like he does with other people at school.

🕷- When he gets his powers his first instinct is to call you. He’s literally halfway through punching your number into the keypad until he stops and decides against it. He knows your number off by heart now.

🕷- You appear and disappear like a ghost its so random.

🕷- Honest to god, he lowkey thought you were homeless until you invited him over to watch Barbie Mermaidia.

🕷- “Bibble is so me.”

🕷- He’s the only person you let over at your place. its small and in the basement of an old apartment complex. the landlord couldn’t get anyone to pay to live there. you live alone.

🕷- You struck a deal, and they let you crash there as long as rent was on time and you fixed their washing machine for free.

🕷- Miles asked how you got to live there for so cheap. You tell him it’s because someone died on the couch he was sitting on.

🕷- He sits on the floor.

🕷- Miles is so eager to share his new powers with someone.

🕷- No seriously, between all the stress and lying and anxiety its nice to let himself get excited about it. To let himself have fun and see what he can do.

🕷- You guys TOTALLY video tape him trying out his new powers for the first time.

🕷- I can imagine you finding an abandoned alleyway on some random ass street after school and filming Miles Trying to do a backflip LMAO.

🕷- You gotta fish him out of a trashcan after he tries to spider climb up the wall.

🕷- You know that thing where a group of friends duck tapes one of their friends to a wall for fun? You get miles to do that to you.

🕷- You guys can’t stop laughing, The best memories of your lives are in those videos.

🕷- He’ll take you up to the top of buildings to show you the graffiti art he painted!! he’ll let you sign it off with a dick and balls or a heart if you want. You guys do homework up there together as well.

🕷- ’M & (Y/I) were here’ has been painted on every available surface of New York.

🕷- You both have the bright idea to hop on his back and go web slinging around the neighbourhood. He can carry you easily.

🕷- Miles decides If you don’t tell him to slow down, then he’s not going fast enough.

🕷- You NEVER tell him to slow down.

🕷- “Faster!!!“

🕷- Now that he’s got super strength he can put you in an inescapable headlock, he doesn’t do it too tight but he holds you there until you tap out.

🕷- He takes you to the coolest spots with the best views.

🕷- You regularly cover for him.

🕷- “We were at Jamba Juice the whole time officer I swear.”

🕷- Miles side eyes you knowing damn well he was no where NEAR a Jamba Juice.

🕷- ’Thanks’ he’d mouth.

🕷- You and Petter B will get along like a house on fire.

🕷- While Miles is extremely unimpressed by him, you don’t seem to care about any pre-existing expectations one might have when you think of the guy behind the mask of Spider-Man, your cracking jokes and feeding your pet rat a couple of French fries while the three of you sit in the diner, planning your next moves carefully.

🕷- Peter B can tell you’re a good kid. He’s at an age where a lot of your batshit tendencies don’t really faze him as long as your not hurting yourself.

🕷- Speaking of which.

🕷- When him and Miles get the chance to talk alone he warns him that he needs to be careful.

🕷- He tells him that normal relationships aren’t possible anymore. And stresses to him what a life like this can mean for your loved ones. especially since you found out his secret. This line of work isn’t just dangerous for Miles, but for you as well.

🕷- Miles is a little shaken after the conversation, no matter how gently Peter tries to put it. But what he’s implying is clear. He tries to shake it off and enjoy the time you both spend together. He won’t admit to himself that Peter is right just yet.

🕷- It’s just so easy to tell you everything and rely on you.

🕷- There will be a moment sometime in the future when reality sets in, but for now Miles makes the same mistake every Spider-Man does.

🕷- He has a best friend. :(

🕷- On the other hand, Peter comes to the staggering realisation that your actually extremely prone to accidents and danger all on your own. And he appropriately does a complete 180 from ‘casually distant bum-uncle' to ‘I am your dad now’.

🕷- It’s Nothing personal, kid. now stop trying to get in the middle of fights with dangerous criminals and let the adult— or at least the guys with super strength, stamina, speed and resilience— handle it.

🕷- He demands you stay out of the crossfire, but, to no one’s surprise you don’t listen.

🕷- You’re willing to throw yourself in front of Miles to shield him from anything, much to your best friends terror.

🕷- You hold your own surprisingly well against opponents that would be considered reasonable threats otherwise. You’re resourceful, grabbing anything and everything you can get your hands on. you get a terrifying look in your eye.

🕷- No matter how impressed Peter is, He will slingshot you around with his web-shooters to propel you out of the way of oncoming attacks. He will do this for both of you, but feels the need to do it less for Miles. He knows he can take what’s on the other end of the punch. But No matter how untouchable you make yourself out to be, you can’t.

🕷- “Do I want kids?”

🕷- He takes you on as his responsibility just as much as he does Miles.

🕷- Spider-Gwen also looks out for you in battle.

🕷- She’s more laid back, and even a little suave about it too.

🕷- She secretly wishes she had someone like you in her universe. What she wouldn’t give to decompress with you after a long day of patrolling New York.

🕷- She’s actually the most normal about you having a pet rat. You know, the one you grabbed out of a garbage can in a subway station. Yeah, That rat.

🕷- Miles watches you both get along like a house on fire and just quietly falls behind you both since he’s not sure what to do or say.

🕷- He’s so awkward, poor guy.

🕷- Your tendency to go off for days at a time ignites everyone’s curiosity. it’s a concerning habit, and Gwen even endeavours to follow you to see where you disappear to so often.

🕷- She’s unsuccessful.

🕷- It's never said out loud, but when she’s facing the one-way ticket home she finds herself wanting to stay just a bit longer. Not just for Miles, but for you to… She wonders what you’ll get up to while she’s gone.

🕷- …

🕷- Peter Porker vibes with you so hard.

🕷- no wait don’t scroll away wait

🕷- he WILL gift you the freakishly large cartoon mallet. Sorry, but miles didn’t appreciate it for what it was.

🕷- He would be cracking jokes and doing bits with you through out the whole goddamn movie.

🕷- Miles can usually let you do your own thing without sparing a second glance, but the looney tunes laws of physics that Porker exhibits WILL rub off on you at least a little.

🕷- It’s contagious. And when you start flattening eachother into to perfect discs it freaks everyone out a little.

🕷- He’s got enough to worry about in the plot,,, Damn,,

🕷- Spider Noir teaches you how to throw a good punch

🕷- in exchange you let him mess with your phone as much as he wants

🕷- "how the hell do you work this thing?"

🕷- He likes you, he thinks you got a lot of guts.

🕷- You were actually the one to design Miles’ suit. He took inspiration from one of your drawings in your school notebook.

🕷- You've always believed in him, and that made him believe in himself too.

#spider man #across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #miles morales #miles morales x reader #into the spiderverse #you guys are cutie patooties #spider noir #spiderman into the spiderverse #peter porker #gwen stacy #spider gwen

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loganshouseofworship · 1 day

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Can you do something with Logan that is super angsty? Maybe you two get in a fight over his career and your career? Then both of you realize that you can live without each other and end up getting back together.

Thank you!!

I can’t live without you — Logan Sargent x reader

“I can’t do this anymore Logan,” you said, cramming your clothes into your suitcase.

“Do what? What’s going on?” Logan asked

“Stand by and watch as Williams destroys your career” you said.

“Williams isn’t destroying my career, what are you talking about?” Logan says slightly, raising his voice.

“Yea they are Logan but you're so blinded by your loyalty to the team you can’t see it” you yelled through the tears.

“Wait a minute, you can’t leave!”

“Yes, I can” you said, your voice steady but tears were flowing down your face. “I can’t do this anymore”

“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore!” Logan yelled as you went to slam the door shut, but Logan grabbed the door and stopped it.

“That team is destroying you Logan, it's taking its toll on your mental health. you can’t keep putting yourself through this” you said, as you put a hand on Logan’s arm.

“Williams doesn’t care about you. They used your signing as a PR move to bring in more American formula one fans and you're too blind to see that” you tell him.

“Don’t say that! Williams cares about me! They brought me in, they believed in me!”

“That’s just what they want you to believe. They’re using you…I don't know why I'm wasting my breath. I know you're going to stay. I don't know what I was thinking. I mean you left a team that loved you and cared about you, and now you're throwing it away for a team that's going to drag you through the mud.”

“Stop. Stop saying those things.” Logan said harshly. “I’m not throwing anything away. My loyalty to Williams is what’s been pushing me to do my best and not make a mistake.”

“Keep telling yourself that Logan” you say finally leaving the hotel room.

“No, wait!” Logan yelled into the hallway as you shut the door. You kept walking and didn’t turn around.

“Damnit!” Logan yelled.

“She’ll come back, she’ll come to see that it’s all going to be okay.” Logan muttered to himself.

Hours later, Logan was sitting in front of his laptop in the dark looking at old pictures of them together.

A photo of you two, looking happy came into view.

“Maybe loyalty isn’t the most important thing?” He whispered to himself.

A few weeks have gone by since the Australian Grand Prix since the night you left Logan alone in the hotel room. Logan’s home race was coming up and he wasn’t going to lie he was nervous as all get out.

Logan missed you and he realized that you were right about the team. They didn’t care about him, not like you had. Fans started noticing that Logan was looking more tired and exhausted than before the bags under his had darkened. They looked so dark that it looked like he had black eyes.

Logan’s eyes were red from lack of sleep, from stress, from working nonstop to show the team what he was made of. He looked so worn out, and it was breaking your heart. You knew that he was pushing himself too hard, and it was beginning to take a toll on his mental health, and you just wanted to be there to support him.

The race weekend was approaching, and he was still working late into the night, trying to perfect his setup. Logan’s exhaustion was beginning to show, he looked like a shell of himself. He had lost weight, and his eyes were dark and sunken. The fan base was starting to get worried about him.

You weren’t doing much better yourself. You were worried sick about him, every day. You’d lost weight, you could barely sleep because all you did was worry and think about him.

Your friends tried to comfort you, but you weren’t listening to anyone, you were focused on one thing, on getting him back.

You would spend all night and day looking for flight deals online, trying to find a way to get home and see him again. But every time you looked, they were all sold out. It felt like the universe was against you, but really it just wanted you to wait a little bit longer, to wait until the right time to reunite you.

You would constantly check the calendar, seeing how many days there were left before you could get on a flight and see him again.

Time was passing so slowly, and it felt like it was never going to end. But then finally, the day came when your flight was confirmed, and you were on your way back.

You were just hours away from seeing him again, but the feeling of relief and anxiety were equally strong. You knew you wanted to see him, but at the same time, a part of you was scared of what he would say, or that he might have moved on.

You landed in the US, and you could barely contain your emotions, you were nervous and excited, and a million other things at the same time, as you got to your car. You just wanted to get to the hotel and see him as soon as possible, but at the end of the day, you also wanted to get it right, to do this the right way.

Your stomach was in knots as you pulled into the hotel, and you felt your heart racing. You couldn't believe you were actually doing this, you couldn't believe you were actually back in the US.

You took a deep breath, and walked through the doors into the hotel, up to his room.

You stopped in front of the room, taking a moment to collect yourself before knocking on the door.

After what felt like an eternity, he opened the door. Logan’s face had gone pale, and the stress and exhaustion that had been weighing on him disappeared.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, his mouth was dry, and he could barely get the words out.

“I had to see you, I had to come back” you replied, trying to get the words out.

He opened the door wider, inviting you in, you slowly walked past him, and he could feel the tension in the air.

“I’ve missed you” Logan whispered, his heart began to beat faster and faster, he was overcome with emotion, and he pulled you into a tight embrace.

“I’ve missed you too” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, and burying your head into his chest.

He pulls you even closer to him, not letting you go.

The air felt thick between the two of you, neither wanted to break the embrace, neither wanted to talk, neither wanted anything more than to feel close to each other again.

Finally, after a long moment, he broke the embrace and stepped back, wiping his eyes, he had almost cried right then and there.

“I’m-I’m so sorry” he said, unable to stop the words from pouring out.

“For what? “ You asked, you had no idea what he was apologizing for. All you knew was that you wanted to be in his arms again.

“I know I’ve been distant recently, and I haven’t been there for you” he said, taking your hands in his. He stared into your eyes, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of your face.

“I just…” he began, but choked up, unable to find the right words. His lips trembled, his face twisted in regret and guilt.

“Just what?” You asked gently, trying to understand what was going on.

“You were right, my loyalty to the team has taken everything from me”. He said, his voice cracking as he fought back the tears.

“What do you mean?” You asked, he was starting to not make sense, was he just tired, it must be that, because you had no idea where this was coming from.

“You were right about the team, you said that they didn’t care about me, that they were using me as a PR move. And I tried to deny it, I tried to deny everything you said, but it’s all true…”

“I’ve pushed myself to the point of mental exhaustion, and all for what, I’ve been so blind thinking that I needed to do this, but the truth is I don’t, I don’t need Williams, I need you…” He said, staring back at you.

“Do you need me?” You said, his words caught you off guard. The reality was hitting you, he needed you, he didn’t need the team. He needed you.

“Without you, I’m lost” he said finally, admitting it out loud, he took a deep breath. “I’ve been so worried about losing Williams, and I should have been worried about losing you.”

“I need you Logan , I've missed you so much” you said, tears now spilling down your face.

“I’ve missed you too” he said, wrapping his arms around you once again. You could feel the tension in the air subside, and the stress that had been weighing on you both disappeared. It felt almost as if you’d never been apart.

His grip tightened around you, not wanting to let you go, like he needed to hold you just a little bit longer. You could feel him taking deep breaths and his heartbeat steady. It was like he needed the two of you to be as close as possible for a minute, as if he needed to make up for lost time.

“I’m never letting you leave again” he said softly, tightening his grip once again. You could feel his heart rate settle, and you could feel the tension ease even greater. It felt like home.

@a-casual-romantic @amatswimming @bblouifford @bbtoni @jinx53 @jeffs77 @toasttt11 @hrts4scarr @faithshouseofchaos @vellicora

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notjoelmiller · 1 year

Text

wild thing

MDNI

joel miller x reader (later tommy miller x reader) summary: You like the brothers. They're good to you. Though certainly one more than the other. wordcount: 1.3k warnings: a little bit of violence, drinking, smut (p-in-v), voyeurism (dubious consent from both voyeur and voyeuee with this one, as a warning), joel has a praise kink a/n: wrote this super quick. hope you like it <3

When you meet Joel, you nearly kill his brother.

The brothers search an abandoned house. It’s surprisingly abundant: ammo, canned food, and medical supplies are all added to their stock. They search each room from head to toe, grabbing whatever they can.

But no matter how much shit they cram into their bags, Joel can’t help but feel like something is wrong. Goosebumps trail up his arms. A tightness around his heart grows with every step deeper in the house. Joel tries telling Tommy, but he shrugs it off.

Tommy rolls his eyes, “Don’t go questionin’ a good thing.”

Then something shuffles. Joel hears it, but before he can even act, you lunge from around a corner, terrifyingly swift, slashing and stabbing a knife in any direction you can reach.

Joel watches the collision, frozen in place, in awe almost. At lightning speed you pin Tommy to the ground. It’s not until your hands close around his neck that Joel manages to snap out of it.

You scream as Joel yanks you off of Tommy, grunt as he pins you to the ground. A single hand sits on your neck. He doesn’t squeeze, yet. However, his other hand comes up to your hand that holds the knife, pinning it above your head.

Joel’s close to you now. Your breath fans against his skin, warm and not at all unpleasant. You shake beneath him, dropping the knife to the ground. Joel sees your every movement like this, feels your body beneath him– your fear. Ten years ago, he may have been disturbed by it. Now, not so much.

“You’re a wild thing, ain’t you,” Joel says with a smile on his face.

“You gonna kill her or kiss her?” Tommy asks. It’s a joke. Joel doesn’t find it very funny. Maybe it would have landed better if there wasn’t blood dripping down the attempted-comic’s cheek. You had slashed Tommy during the collision, apparently. Joel’s proud, but not as much as he is enticed.

Joel lets go of you, slides off of your body painfully slowly. You don’t move, just watch him in the same position he had you in, head thrown slightly back, hand high above your head, thighs apart. It’s debauched the way his eyes linger on you as he grabs your knife– a nice butterfly one. He covers the blade and tosses it on your chest.

“C’mon,” Joel says, offering a hand. “You’re comin’ with us.”

***

The brothers warm up to you quickly once they realize the slash you gave Tommy won’t scar. We need his pretty face, Joel says. Apparently his boyish grin and charismatic tongue have gotten the pair out of some tough spots. You can’t deny, Tommy’s got a face that can calm you on your worst days.

You learn about them. Joel’s older, though you guessed that by the volume of gray sprinkled in his beard. He’s quiet– quieter than Tommy at least, though that’s not hard. He’s guarded, doesn’t like sharing anything too personal with you. One night, when Joel’s off on guard, Tommy lets it slip that he had a daughter. You never dare to bring it up to him.

Tommy’s different, sweeter in a way. He’s more likely to crack a joke, or share a smile when you’re down. He's good with a gun. Joel tells you that he got into trouble a lot back before the infection. You don’t believe it at first. Then you see him smile after getting his nose broken, his lopsided smile accentuated by his crooked nose, blood spilling down to his chin. You believe Joel after that.

You like the brothers. They like you back. You and Tommy grow close, finding a rare camaraderie in your fucked up world. But only because he doesnt know you’re fucking his brother.

It’s an accident the first time it happens. As much of an accident as sex can be. You three find a settlement to spend the night in. The people are nice, they feed you and hand you plenty of drinks.

Be merry, they said.

And merry you were.

His gaze is on you all night. You feel it, but pay no mind. You dance, you drink, you talk, you flirt with strangers, and you drink some more. He’s more reserved, planting himself at the bar while letting you enjoy the festivities.

You come over once he finally catches your gaze. You make small talk.

“How’s the night treating you, Miller?”

His hand snakes around your waist, “Good. Nice watchin’ you have fun for once.”

You smirk, leaning into him, “Yeah?”

He takes you in the back of the bar, chatter and music drowning out the noise of your coupling. He’s behind you, your face pressed into the wall, going at a brutal pace. At some point, his hand comes to clamp against your mouth, quieting you. He doesn’t quiet though, leaning down to your ears, whispering unholy things.

Knew this pussy would be good. Takin’ me so well, baby.

Think they can hear us in there?

Gonna cover you with my cum, let them all know who you belong to.

It doesn’t end with that night. You alternate taking watch, waiting for Tommy to fall asleep before pouncing.

It’s always different, where, how fast, how intimate. The only constant is the way he marks you with his cum. You smirk every time at the carnal nature of it, remembering his words to you that first day you met.

You’re a wild thing, ain’t you.

You’ve come to love the double entendre.

You suspect Tommy knows. There’s only so much that Joel’s hand over your mouth can do, not with how the filthy cacophony of skin meeting skin and Joel’s own moans sounds. He doesn’t say anything, but things feel different. His words almost seem charged. Innocent statements sound like innuendo coming from him. You think– pray –it’s all in your head.

One night, you ride Joel. He doesn’t let you take control often, but something that night makes him want to relinquish control. You’re grateful. Let me take care of you, honey, you coo at him. He shivers.

You go slowly, taking time to savor every moment. You grind at the base of his cock, reveling in the friction against your clit.

It doesn’t take him long to reach his peak, the words of affection you whisper to him of no help. You’re almost at your peak by the time he’s cumming. As he fills you, you quicken the pace. Joel reaches a hand to your clit, rubbing in frantic circles, but it’s enough, and you reach your peak in no time.

You shake as you come, muttering incoherent words of praise and thanks to Joel. You shut your eyes for a moment, but just like every time you’ve fucked, reality soon comes crashing down. There is no aftercare, nor any time to cuddle. You need to get back to watch and get fixed up before anything happens or– god forbid –Tommy wakes up.

Speaking of Tommy– your eyes search for him in the darkness, the only illumination offered to you being the dying firelight. You find a shape, vaguely man-shaped. You squint, the details of him coming into clearer view– the rise and fall of his chest, his rifle laying next to him, and–

Tommy’s looking right at you, eyes dark, but alert. You’re still seated on Joel’s cock when you make eye contact with him. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, nor make any indication beyond that terrifying look in his eyes that he knows your secret.

Then, he smiles, and his eyes close.

Joel has no idea, still coming down from his high. Your eyes flick from man to man. You shudder.

#joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller x y/n #tommy miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller smut

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bambisnc · 2 months

Text

he's the one that's livin' in my system baby! [02]

pairing : sungchan x reader genre : fluffy roommates au <3 lil angst bc reader is really out here questioning their whole existence (js like me fr) cw/tw : sungchan spills coffeee + reader is freaking out a bit bc of feelings tm + minor swearing + use of caps wc : 1k !!!!!!!!!!!!! everyone cheer and clap for me !!!!!!!!!!!!!

'RING!!!'

you sit up at your desk with a start, head hitting the lamp that you had so thoughtfully adjusted to be right above earlier in the evening. as you check the alarm clock, it's.. 2.59 a.m. already?! shit.. the last you remembered it was barely 10.00 p.m. and you had just gotten ready for a "super intense cram session", to be able get at least a little ahead in preparations for your finals.

that totally worked out well huh?

as your still sluggish mind slowly catches up, you notice a shawl wrapped over your shoulders.. and that candle you'd lit had been blown out as well. hmm.

your suspicions are easily confirmed when you notice a little yellow piece of paper stuck to the wall with a simple "you got this ^^ ♡" on it.

before you're fully able to let yourself swoon at the thoughtfulness of your roommate - it would honestly not be an overstatement when you question how much of a saint you must've been in your past life to be graced with a roommate like him - you hear a concerning clatter from the kitchen which makes you immediately rush towards the source of the sound.

and there stands sungchan, scrambling around the drawers looking for something.. the puddle of steaming brown liquid, coffee probably, indicates that his search is most likely for a dishcloth.

you move up behind his now bent figure as he rummages through the lower drawers, as carefully as you can to pull out one and dangle it in front of him teasingly, "looking for something~?"

"i could've sworn that was not there before?? dude are you sure you're not some kind of sorceress in disguise looking to prey on pretty boys like me?" your close proximity doesn't seem to affect him in the slightest; you however very much are affected. which obviously means you'll yet again hide behind a safe fool proof technique : a teasing remark.

"pfft- is that the best you could come up with? rather basic, no? you need to up your game seriously - when i first moved in, didn't you accuse me of being an evil horticulturist because i got you flowers?"

"hey no you see that was totally valid and besides the jury is still considering that possibility"

"the jury?"

"mhm, the people who said they'll get back to me on r/horticulture."

you have to laugh at this but as you accept your defeat you flick sungchan's forehead slightly, and roll your eyes at his exaggerated whine.

the dishcloth in your hand suddenly brings you back to earth, you know, as compared to how rather over the moon you feel in his company, "wait catch me up on what happened here?"

"ah.. i was making you coffee. i don't support caffeine at uh 3 am usually but i know you really wanted to get done with some of those worksheets of yours so.."

there he goes being all thoughtful again. god sometimes you really don't even know how to form coherent replies when he shows his care for you so, so unabashedly.

"right yeah.. i appreciate that. but you really don't have to sungchan-"

he doesn’t have to. doesn’t have to make you coffee, doesn’t have to stay up for company when you’re pulling all-nighters, doesn’t have to cuddle with you during your pirated show binges, doesn’t have to hold your hand during late night grocery store runs, doesn’t have to share his mint-choco chip ice-cream, his favorite, with you when your spicy ramen starts getting a little too spicy, doesn’t have to comfort you when everything, everyone gets too overwhelming.

“i know. i’m not doing this because i have to - i want to do this for you… is there a problem with that?”

yes, you want to say, yes there is. he’s making you feel emotions you’ve only ever read about in webtoons and fanfictions, and you’re scared of that. you’re terrified of that. “feelings” never lead to a good outcome unless they’re overly romanticized in various media; and this is definitely not a romance novel; nor is this a kdrama. “feelings” lead to vulnerability, to rawness, to your heart being completely exposed, because it’s undeniable that the defenses you’ve worked to set up around it all your life will break down in a single instance, if he asked it of you. you know that.

“..no. of course not.”

sungchan’s face lights up with one of his trademark smiles then, as he directs you back to your room assuring you that he’ll be “right there with your coffee madam <3”

you’re unwilling to leave but you’re also unwilling to stay. you make your way to your desk, mind still a jumble of complicated thoughts, all revolving around him. it’s genuinely shocking how, despite having been in your life for such a short period of time, he’s somehow wedged himself completely and truly in your mind and heart.

“what’s on your mind hmm?” you find yourself in a similar position to merely 7 minutes ago in the kitchen, except this time it’s him with his arms moving around you to place your coffee mug on the table, diligent in taking care to avoid your laptop and notebooks.

“nothing much,” another safe, noncommittal response to hide behind, “feel kinda sleepy, still.”

“well, caffeine to the rescue!! but i would definitely suggest getting a few hours of rest.” he still hasn’t moved, his arms now resting on the wood, as he slightly tilts his head to look at you.

for once you decide to let yourself bask in the safety and comfort he exudes, overthinking and complications can, with all due respect, fuck themselves. “thank you, sungchan.” you’re unable to add in the ‘for everything’ so you can only hope he understands. you reach forward for the coffee, nose wrinkling slightly at noticing how hot it is.

and then. he leans in slightly till you can see your reflection in his warm, mocha-coloured eyes and inside you it’s as if 2 separate beings are desperately fighting for attention; one adamant on backing away as far as possible because it’s safe but the other yearning to pull him even closer. both beings are unfortunately unable to come to a conclusion, forcing you to rigidly stay fixed, not unlike a statue.

his voice is barely above a whisper when he goes, with all the devotion and affection you’d imagined in the gazes of every fictional crush you’ve ever had, “you drool when you sleep. it’s really cute.”

a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose and then he’s gone with some sort of a pleasantry but you’d be damned if you could remember even a word of it.

you blink. once, twice.

change of plans, then : instead of studying, you might need to pull out your softest, most sound absorbent pillow and scream into it, “jung sungchan. fuck. you.”

old notes : somewhat of a prequel to the other one? idk it's in the same univ u can fit in the pieces wherever u like also head empty worrying about exams also. sumchango love dive. ty for ur consideration . new notes : its a series now !11!!!! + [series m.list] [m.list]

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iamjacksragingboner · 4 months

Text

Gross Childhood Best Friend Soap

Word Count: 1.6K

Alternate Endings Here

Warnings: The tiniest smidgen of angst but it ends nice so you better not complain, not super proofread

A/N: Yeah I dunno, came up with this last night and just crammed it out today in a sort of word diarrhea in which I blacked out and woke up naked and alone in the middle of the bush with this on my laptop screen. Make of that what you will

Contrary to his callsign, Soap is, and always has been, a gross little goober of a man

He’s been gross since you were kids, going digging for worms, collecting hermit crabs to take home from the beach in his pockets, rolling around in the dirt and coming home tracking mud on the carpet. Of course, it wasn’t all bad. He’d always offer to kiss your scrapes and bruises better, even if they were bloody or muddy. He’d always find pretty seashells to give you amidst his hunt for the largest hermit crab. He was gross within reason.

You had many a fond memory of going off to the creek at the back of your neighbouring houses with him. You'd climb up to what felt like perilous heights in your child minds, to sit on the highest point of the creek. From there, you would watch as Johnny dug for the perfect stones for you both to skim, watch him build dams and change the currents of the water. Watch as he would lunge at bugs, fish, tadpoles, lizards, and present them up to you from below, the squirming creatures clutched in his mud covered hands.

At the end of the day, just before your parents would call you back home for dinner, Johnny would climb up on the rock with you, just to sit and hold your hand. If he was feeling particularly bold, he would plant a kiss on your hand, and tell you he was going to marry you one day. You called him gross for that too, but latched onto the idea all the same.

Your early teen years, where puberty had begun for the both of you, was plagued with a myriad of varying smells and odours. Forget sweating like a pig, Johnny sweat like a boar; walking home from school with him after P.E. was a nightmare for your nasal cavities. You didn't mind though, he made good enough conversation that you ended up getting used to the stink.

For the amount of afternoons you spent in his room, you'd think you would eventually get used to the sight of his dirty clothes and mugs littering his floor and desk. You never did, always scolding him for not keeping his room clean knowing he had a lady coming over. He would always laugh, even as you threw his pillow at him, copping it square in the face.

So many nights were spent laying side by side in his bed, talking late into the night, curious hands too scared to do more than brush pinkies with the other laying inches away. You always felt as though you could feel him staring at you in the quieter moments of those nights, but you never caught him.

You spent your later teen years feeling bitterly towards him. You went from thinking you'd be best friends forever, to being an afterthought for Johnny. You did try, of course, to keep close to him.

In his late teen years, Johnny was gross in the sense that he’d go off to parties just to see how many people he could make out with. Would have sex with anyone who offered, just for the hell of it. Accompanying him to parties was a nightmare.

"You promise you won't abandon me this time?" You found yourself asking this more than once, each time slightly less optimistic than the last, but never losing your faith in him.

"Of course not, lass," he would always say. "Yer ma' girl! I'll stick right by yer side this time, lass. I promise."

What shallow promises they were. You were always demoted to the third wheel, the one who held the drinks while he went off to flirt with someone new he hadn't fucked yet. You found yourself leaving early and alone most nights, walking home and hugging your sides to keep yourself from falling apart, kicking stones imagining they were Johnny's face. Cursing yourself for thinking this time would be different, and that maybe he'd look at you for once. Going to bed cold and bitter, knowing just next door, Johnny would be waking up with someone else next to him in his bed. You just hoped he remembered to keep his room clean for them.

You both graduated, with Johnny leaving to join the military and you leaving to go to university. You kept in scarce contact over the years, occasionally calling to catch up, Johnny telling you where he was stationed, you telling him what you were working on at uni, apologising for missing birthdays, missing holidays, promises to call again soon, promising to catch up when he's home, all shallow. At least, that's what it felt like to you.

Until one night, when you were out at a bar with you friends, celebrating your recent graduation. You were all discussing with great vigour what you would all get up to with your newfound freedom from studies, when you felt the familiar feeling of eyes boring holes into the back of your skull. A little unsettled, you took a look around the bar, trying to see who could possibly be staring at you so intensely, but you couldn't quite catch their eye. You sipped at your drink, a frown furrowing your brows for a moment, before you brushed the feeling off altogether.

An hour passed and you'd forgotten the feeling in the haze of the alcohol. You were ordering yourself another drink, and as you reached into your wallet to grab out your card, another hand swooped in front of you to pay for your drink. You looked up, startled, before you met his gaze. Johnny. Staring down at you with a smile that could melt glaciers.

"Johnny, you didn't tell me you were in town," you murmured, eyes greedily taking in as much of him as you could in this moment of reunion. Scars on his chin covering the one he got from splitting his chin riding a bike for the first time. Stubble covering his jaw. The corniest mohawk that he had always talked about getting, sitting on top of his head. Your face flushed beet red when your eyes dragged over his built form; apparently that childhood crush you'd had on him all those years ago hadn't quite faded as much as you'd thought it had.

"You didn't tell me you'd graduated university, lass," he replied, the sound of his voice—finally in person again and not over the phone—sending shivers down your spine. "Had to find out myself from yer mum."

You hid your guilt behind the drink you tipped back into your mouth, averting your gaze as he watched you with dark eyes. "Thanks for the drink," you breathed, and he laughed.

"Don't even mention it, 's the least I can do. Why don't we go sit down somewhere 'n catch up, aye? Come on, lass."

You found yourself being guided over to a booth, Johnny's hand on the small of your back, sending ripples of warmth through you and into places the alcohol couldn't quite reach. You sat down first, with Johnny shuffling in close beside you, your shoulders brushing, electricity coursing through your veins.

As you sat and spoke, catching up on what you've missed in each other's lives, you found yourself noticing something. Johnny was using all the moves he used to use on people he fancied in high school, the ones he used to get them all flustered, to get in their pants.

You had to admit, you could see why so many people slept with him; he was charismatic as all hell, that boyish charm spawning those all too familiar butterflies in your gut, and he was quite literally always in contact with you. Whether it be the arm resting behind you on the seat of the booth, his knee gently nudging yours beneath the table, or a hand tucking a hair behind your ear, it seemed Johnny had turned the charm up to the max.

It was nice to be on the receiving end of it for once, but there was a certain bitterness that still lingered behind like a foul taste in the back of your throat. Was this just meaningless flirting to him, were you just another girl on his list to fuck and be done with? With all the alcohol in your system, you were well and truly past the point of caring, but you knew that if you woke up tomorrow morning in an empty bed you'd not only be cursing him, but yourself as well.

You let him lean in closer, tracing a finger down your cheek, and you let yourself be giddy, blushing like a schoolgirl when he winked at you. You let yourself swoon when he kissed you, cradling your face in his calloused palms. You let him take you back to his parent's place, nestled just next to your own home. You let him take you upstairs and into his room, holding your hand and shushing you when you both laughed a little too loud.

You let yourself feel like teens once more as you stumbled into that all too familiar room, hit with the smell of Johnny, the smell of home. You felt guilty, ashamed, as you let yourself savour the taste of him, the feeling of his naked body pressed against yours, his hands raking along your body as if you'd disappear if he let go. You let yourself fall asleep in his arms, smiling as he carded his fingers through your hair and pressed kisses to your scalp, whispering incoherent things into your skin.

You awoke the next morning, expecting to find Johnny's bed empty. But it wasn't. And neither was it the next morning, or the morning after that. In fact, the pair of you spent a lot of time waking up together.

This is where you find yourself now, lying in the early morning light in Johnny's bed, the man in question sprawled out next to you, snoring with his mouth wide open, drool leaking on his pillow.

"Gross," you murmur to yourself with a fond smile, tucking yourself into his side and closing your eyes once more.

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #childhood best friend x reader

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luveline · 1 year

Text

a june baby drabble (for which I have no explanation) <3

Eddie sits down with an over dramatic sigh, throwing his thigh over yours so your legs are interlocked. You lean in to him on impulse because that’s something you can do now, whenever you want to, and he cups the back of your neck in his hand, elbow behind your shoulders.

“Okay, junebug, we’re ready!”

Junie bursts from where she’d been waiting in the doorway, looking as wild as she’s ever looked. Dark liner and glitter (hypoallergenic, according to your boyfriend) decorates her small eyes. She has a plastic guitar swung over her neck, her hands poised clumsily over the strings and struts.

“Let’s rock!” she shouts excitedly. Rock sounds like ‘wock’ and Eddie’s timed it all so well that you burst into laughter as the music starts.

She strums frantically at her guitar, nonsense sounds hidden by the overloud music blaring from Eddie’s borrowed stereo.

You tip your head back with the force of your giggles and it slots right into the curve of his neck. He laughs in time, hand swung lazily over your legs to the popcorn bowl between them. He feeds you a half handful and polishes off the rest as Junie dances around the room, a ball of energy, a ray of total sunshine, a burning stage light.

You applaud as she takes a breather, hair wild and eyes glazed with delight.

“My rock star!” Eddie praises, holding his arms out expectantly. He doesn’t flinch when she runs at him full pelt, her guitar a half inch from hitting him in the jaw.

“Rock and roll,” she says severely.

You cram your mouth with popcorn and laugh as you chew. “Super rock and roll,” you say, hand over your mouth.

Junie closes her eyes as Eddie’s arms pull her in that little bit tighter. You’d miss his touch if you weren’t always so enamoured by their relationship, the uninhibited way that she drapes herself over him, the more than natural way he receives her.

“You,” — he kisses her cheek — “are,” — another kiss, this one lower — “amazing.” He presses a final kiss right on top of the first. “Now quick! Angel is next!”

Angel is the ‘88 song by Aerosmith, and it’s Junie’s favourite. She must’ve heard Eddie serenade both you and her with it a hundred times by now. She knows maybe ten percent of the words, primarily, “You’re my angel, come and save me tonight,” and she sings it so sweetly and with so much passion it always makes you smile.

She bursts back into the middle of the room and takes up the starting position for a ‘soundcheck’. While she’s preoccupied, you place your hand as gently as you’re able to against Eddie’s cheek and tilt his face toward yours.

“One day that tape is gonna break,” you murmur, “and we’re gonna have a big problem on our hands.”

He meets your soft gaze, his own full of a carefree happiness that cuts to the bone, leaving your chest a mess of warmth. “Oh no,” he drawls.

“I’m serious.”

He leans in until your noses touch and presses a quick, firm kiss to your subtle pout. “I know you are.”

The pout turns to a smile soon enough. Junie screams for eyes on her and you spring apart, though Eddie takes the time to twine your fingers.

“Go on, baby,” you encourage. “We’re watching.” Mostly. If you sneak looks at each other, nobody can blame you.

#june baby universe #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x reader blurb #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x mom!reader #dad!eddie munson x reader

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dandylovesturtles · 14 days

Text

we aren't allowed to tie with 2AL/SLAU :c but here's some propaganda anyway. I'm super busy with RL stuff and I don't have time for a lot so sorry this is kinda short haha

as always Firefight is owned by @remedyturtles, 2AL is owned by @intotheelliwoods, and SLAU is owned by @separatedleoau/@dianagj-art

@tmntaucompetition

-----

"Geez, what happened to them?" asks one of their opponents the moment they get there.

And Leo can understand the question. The other Leo has finally come out of his shell, and the picture is not pretty. Since he poked his head out, he and the other Donnie have been impossible to pry apart, and they haven't tried. Leo's old transport chair isn't big enough for two, but they're crammed into it anyway, letting Raph wheel them around. He just seems content to be useful.

"The Krang," says Donnie flatly, when the other two offer absolutely no answer for that. They aren't really paying attention, but the other Donnie must have filled his in on the situation at some point. He keeps calling them "Leo Beta and Donnie Beta" like some kind of nerd.

"Oh," says the older Leo sympathetically. "Do you think... I can talk to them?"

"Knock yourself out," Leo says, and the older Leo nods and approaches the two in the wheelchair, kneeling to talk to them in a low voice. Leo decides not to listen in.

"Hey," says the other Leo his age, the one with only one arm, "didn't we meet before?"

Recognition dawns. "Oh yeah, we did! Right back at the start."

The one-armed Leo grins wide. "Cool! Well, you can call me Poptart, I guess. That one's Sprout," he indicates the older Leo, "and this guy is One." He tosses his arm around One at the introduction, and One wrinkles his snout but doesn't pull away.

"Man, this sucks," he says. "I was hoping for a real challenge this time."

Leo tenses. "Uh, what's that supposed to mean?"

"Isn't it obvious what it means?" One gestures at the twins in the wheelchair. "Those guys are half-dead, and you're-" He stops short, glancing at Poptart.

Leo can feel the preemptive rage rolling of Donnie, but he wheels his chair forward a bit before he can say anything. "I'm what?"

"You were probably trained to fight by that rat too, that's all," One goes with, looking irritated by the whole exchange.

"Heh. You don't look tough." Leo grins wide. "I could beat you sitting down."

(Beside him, Donnie's rage gives way to irritation.)

This gets One's hackles up. "Okay, fine. We'll show you guys!" He turns to leave. "Come on, Poptart, let's go talk strategy."

"No way!" Poptart doesn't make a move. "I want to stay and hang out! We can talk before the match."

"Don't fraternize with the enemy!"

"You're being so dramatic," says Poptart, and without missing a beat he slings his arm around One's shoulder's again, pulling him into a hug that's more of a headlock. One makes a series of furious noises, sounding remarkably like an angry cat, but can't dislodge himself, and Poptart manages to drag him over to join the group.

"Come on! Let's find a spot to sit!"

"These two could do with some more hydration too, I think," said Sprout, standing up and taking Raph's place behind the wheelchair.

"Great!" says Poptart. "Let's visit the snack bar!"

"Sounds great to me!" Leo sings, falling in beside Poptart. He can't help but snicker at the struggling One. "But, uh, is he gonna be okay?"

"Oh, he'll be fine once he gets a snack."

"No!? Don't eat with the enemy!" yells One.

"He's just a little grumpy," Poptart adds, giving him a pout.

"Heh, well, we can fix that!"

"Stop! Let me go! Auuuugh!"

#sidelined au #firefight au #2 arms left #separated leo au #tmnt au competition #Sprout was having a nice talk with the firefight boys #sorry we only got to see the shenanigans instead

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yeehawpim · 6 months

Note

What's your process in making comics

And how do you make something so good with such a simple art style!? 🥺

(if this has been asked before could you send a link to the post?)

Alright so ive been sitting on this ask b/c I already know it's a long answer aflskdjf

Write dialogue/text down in my notes app Sometimes it's just me sitting there like hghghg as music plays and I stare at my phone for 10min. Usually it's 12am thinking about stuff while I'm in bed and I type some piece of dialogue down real quick. I'm nowhere near as comprehensive as comic script I've seen online that they give examples for, like there's no direction on what's happening in panels or anyth because it's just for myself and I just sort of remember composition ideas if I have them on the spot

Literally start drawing 😂 As previously said I sometimes go into comics with comp ideas already, like for this one I knew I was going to divide the page going in. Or like I know this is gonna be 4 panels and pretty static. Other stuff I fully wing it sentence to sentence because I can't bother with thumbnailing 😅 sometimes this bites me on the ass because I spend forever drawing smth I have to toss, but I've gotten better at doing stuff fast

I use photoshop, so for vertical comics I've been following this tutorial for years

Vertical comics are a lot easier to structure composition-wise for me, I started out making those because it was less intimidating

The red arrow is your eye direction as you read it. For me it's always the bottom of a page is one less boundary to worry about. You can be less precise if the reader is automatically drawn to looking down b/c they're scrolling and never sees a full page laid out. 😂 Also if I want to pace something slower/further down I don't have to worry about having to cram it in y'know?

This might be a weirdly specific thing to mention but I'm always thinking about it when I make comics because...

lol I gotta make up for being too lazy to spend more than 30 seconds drawing a character

jkjk but yeah my interests are more in slapping the story in my head on the page. I like doing compositions and writing stuff that interests me. I get tired when I spend too much time fiddling with stuff, so if I can get smth across with a rough estimation I'm happy. This does limit the type of stories that can be told cuz certain more rendered styles just work better when you're trying to convey certain things but! there's lots of things you can do drawing simply too!

there's defs more stuff out there that doesn't follow what I'm doing, lots of different styles. Eg American superhero comics are super text-heavy and boggle my mind. This is just what I like to do cuz I like reading way too much manga/webtoons lol

you don't have to be super technical to make comics! go out there and make one if you've got an idea!

if you want to of course haha

hope this explains my process a little (thank you for the compliment it means a lot 🤠🙏)

#q&a

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bleachedhallways · 3 months

Text

lullaby & goodnight. ⌇ lrh.

A/N: i have a soft spot for dad!au’s & the idea of luke being a father makes me super soft, so i wanted to indulge in my silly little fantasies.

summary: in which, your daughter is having a hard time falling asleep & luke knows exactly how to center her.

word count: 1,000+ words.

“Ollie, baby, please–”

“No.” The young girl pouts, arms crossed over her chest with her favorite plush toy held in the grip of her tiny fingers. “No, no, no!”

“Ophelia, you need to sleep. How else will you have the energy to hang out with Daddy tomorrow?” A rhetorical question, yet you hope your five-year-old has the understanding and sense to answer it; Ophelia was incredibly smart for her age and seemed to be quite mature, however, she was a child and children will do as they please, no matter how old of a soul they already seem to be.

The tiny blonde shakes her head dramatically before looking away from you. At this point, you’re ready to admit defeat and let her stay up for as long as she wants, or at least, until she tires herself out doing whatever it was that she wanted to do. However, you wanted to sleep and your husband was in your home studio, finishing up a tune that he’d been working on for days, so grabbing him to help with your stubborn daughter was, in your mind, out of the question. You couldn’t leave her unattended, you’d feel like a shitty mother if you did and Ollie was too young to be on her own.

“Is there anything I can do to help you fall asleep?” You inquire, eyebrows knit together in hopes that there was a solution to this scenario. You’re met with large, doe-like eyes, the hue of them a replica of your own. Your daughter’s gaze is innocent, yet a hint of mischief lies in the depths of her irises.

“No, but Daddy can.”

Of course. Ophelia was a Daddy’s girl, through and through. She and Luke shared a bond unlike one you’ve ever encountered and had each other wrapped around their fingers. Whenever you three had family outings, there were moments where you felt like you were third wheeling; it was simply your husband and your daughter’s world and you were just living in it – happily, obviously. You don’t think you’d have it any other way. Sharing life with the two of them was one of the greatest gifts you’d ever received.

“Ol, Daddy’s busy right now.”

Ophelia wasn’t having it. She would not take ‘no’ for an answer, “I can wait for him!”

You blink twice, unsure of what to say to the child in front of you. The sound of a door opening and closing gains your attention, footsteps getting louder as they come down the hall and stop.

Luke pokes his head into the dimly lit bedroom your daughter occupies, a gentle, tired smile on his face. “Ladies,” He greets the both of you, “everything okay in here?” he adds, eyebrows raising slightly.

“Ollie is having a bit of trouble getting to bed.” You reply, your gaze averting from your husband to your little girl, who looks very pleased with herself; she’s about to get exactly what she wanted.

“Oh, yeah? Can I help?” Luke offers, fully entering the room. He sits on the edge of the twin sized bed covered in pale yellow sheets, stuffed animals crammed against the headboard.

Ophelia abandons her plush toy, leaning into her father’s hold as he opens his arms and cuddles her into his chest. A lighthearted chuckle leaves your husband’s lips, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looks at you, “Sorry, baby. I guess I’m what she needed.”

“Figures,” You sigh, a grin pulling at your lips. “She’s got you wrapped, Lu.”

“Definitely,” He agrees, before turning his attention back to your daughter. “Alright, miss. How can I help you sleep, hm?”

Silence fills the room as your daughter thinks for a brief moment. She’ll milk Luke for all the time that he’s willing to give her, there’s no doubt about that. Doe eyes look up, blinking innocently to really make sure he’s ready to deliver. “Sing to me, pretty please?”

Luke doesn’t waste any time in giving in to her command. If a lullaby is what she wants? It’s what she’ll get. “I can do that for you. Anything you’re wanting to hear?”

“No- wait, can I get comfy?” She asks, pulling away from her father a bit. Luke nods, shifting from his space on the edge of the bed, which prompts you to also get up in order to allow for your daughter to get comfortable under the sheets. Once she’s settled, you and your husband snuggle in on either side of her, wrapping your arms around the girl you both love most.

“Ready, sweetheart?” Luke hums, oceanic eyes peering down at your daughter. He always looks at her with so much love and so much pride, you swear that every time you see it, your heart swells up with affection.

Ophelia nods, her gaze trained on her father as he begins to sing softly, “Take my hand, now and forever…”

As he continues to sing, his melodic voice filling up the space, you watch as the melody flowing from Luke’s lips sends your daughter into a blissful, serene state. Her eyes get droopy as each second passes, the calm atmosphere and warmth provided by her loving parents causing sleep to overtake her. Soon enough, her head is slumped against the pillows, her face slightly buried in the Pink Floyd shirt your husband donned.

Your eyes meet Luke’s when you’re sure that Ophelia is sound asleep, quietly mouthing a ‘thank you’ to him. If it weren’t for him and his incredible knowledge of what your child needed, you doubt she’d be asleep by now. He smiles, blinking sleepily at you before gingerly leaving the softness your daughter’s bed provides, holding out his hand for you to take in order to leave her room.

With a flip of a switch, the dimly lit room is drowned in darkness, save for the pink hued night light plugged into the wall. Luke closes the door as you both exit, then wraps his arm around you and leads you to your own bedroom, sighing dreamily as the prospect of sleep draws closer with each step you take.

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leviathans-watching · 2 years

Note

i saw something like playing truth or dare and having to kiss the prettiest person in the room and thought you’d do this great with the om boys! thank you if you end up accepting this request!!

"kiss the prettiest person in the room" with the older brothers

includes: lucifer, mammon, levi x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: 1k | rated t | m.list | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4

a/n: okay this was super fun to write omg i hope you enjoy. my inbos is open to chat, req, or leave feedback, so come say hi!!

please reblog 0-0

diavolo is holding another sleepover, and you’re all crammed into one of his living rooms, sitting in a rough circle, with some on the couches, some in chairs, and some on the floor

you're on one of the smaller couches, sharing it with solomon and when the sorcerer gets this glint in his eyes you know he had something up his sleeve

“let’s play truth or dare,” he suggests, and though you suspect the game will devolve into chaos, many of the brothers are quickly on board

the game goes a few rounds before solomon calls on you. “mc, truth or dare?”

you balk; the dare will no doubt be something intense and possibly humiliating, but choosing truth would probably be much worse. “dare,” you say, as confidently as you can

solomon grins wickedly. “kiss the prettiest person in this room.”

you gape at him even as various protests are raised around the room.

“no, mc does it or gets punished for chickening out,” solomon insists, and you recall the punishment, which is to buy a dinner next time you’re all out, something your poor wallet really can’t handle.

“i’ll do it,” you say, and a hush falls over the room as they all wait for you to pick.

lucifer watches you look between him and his brothers, curiosity burning in his chest. he wants to say that you don’t have to do this, to make solomon choose something else - he should say that, but there's a deep part of him that needs to know how this will end.

you bite your lip, worrying it between your teeth and he wishes he were a better man.

lucifer watches with rapt anticipation as you stand, walking in his direction. but diavolo and simeon sit on either side, both likely candidates.

“u-um,” you say, coming to a stop in front of him! “may i?”

at any other point in time he’d be smooth, suave, but surprise has struck him dumb and he can only nod. you lean down, carefully moving closer, and lucifer knows he should shut his eyes but he can’t, enraptured by the sight of you.

the kiss is chaste and brief, nothing to write him about, but lucifer knows it’ll haunt him at night.

cheers erupt from around him as you pull back, likely embarrassed, and just look at him for a moment.

perhaps lucifer should be offended that you think he’s pretty. a thousand words have been used to describe him over the decades, but to his knowledge pretty was never one of them. but he’s rather touched instead.

you duck your head, returning back to your seat. and lucifer can hardly pay attention to the continuation of the game, too preoccupied with remembering how your breath had fanned his cheek, how your soft heat had surrounded him.

he’ll be damned if that’s his last kiss with you, he resolves, and diavolo nudges him mischievously, no doubt aware of where his thoughts have gone.

mammon can’t help giving you a cocky grin, making a come-hither motion playfully. to his surprise, you actually do, stepping carefully over belphie, who’s on the floor, resting his back on the base of the couch he’s sitting on.

“not how i imagined our first kiss, but i’ll take it,” mammon says, joking to hide his nerves. he still can’t believe that you’d approached him. maybe it was because he was the safe choice.

either way, it felt like a dream come true.

“not how i imagined it either,” you say with a little laugh, and mammon short circuits, because you had imagined it too?

you lean down, pressing your lips to his, and mammon feels like all of his bones settle, like fireworks are acting beneath his skin. all-too-soon you pull away, and he can’t help but follow you before he gets a hold of himself.

catcalls and yells sound from around the room, perhaps some cries of outrage, but mammon can’t bring himself to care, instead focused on the way you still lean over at him, looking down at him with a glint in your eyes.

“nice as that was,” you say lowly, only so he can hear, “and believe me, it was nice, i’d much rather try again when we’re alone.”

a strangled noise escapes mammon and you smile, moving back to your seat like nothing had happened, like you hadn’t just turned him into a new man with a single press of your lips. god, he loves you.

levi deflates when he hears the dare, knowing he’s out of the running. in a room filled with all of them, he’d never get picked. he can’t even bring himself to watch, staring at his lap.

it’s only when you cough slightly that he looks up. you rub the ack of your neck, bashful. “is it alright if i kiss you?”

“m-me?” levi asks, looking behind him as if anyone would be there. of course, there’s no one. you nod.

“i mean, as long as you’re cool with it, yeah.”

“you think i’m the prettiest?” he can’t help but confirm, and you smile a little bit.

“i mean, duh. you don’t give yourself enough credit, you know.”

you’ve got to be pranking him. except, you’re not that mean. so that would make you… serious? oh my god, he’s going to die! you think he’s pretty!

“you can, uh, you can kiss me,” he manages slyly, and you cup his face, hands warm against his jaw. he’s frozen as you lean down, eyes sliding shut. your lips finally touch his after what seems like an eternity of waiting, and levi instantly feels boneless, melting into your gentle, almost reverent touch.

you pull away, and his eyes snap open. levi stares up at you, eyes wide, and you seem to remember yourself, hands falling away from his face embarassedly. he already misses them.

the room is in a clamor but he can only think of you, only watch as you give him a little smile before returning to your seat, unable to meet his eyes for more than a few moments during the rest of the game. not that he’s able to meet yours for any longer.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 2 months

Note

more sassy/flirty matt, possibly college era/study setting ?

//as someone dealing with college right now.... absolutely, i love college era matt. he's my one and only.

You have been studying for twelve hours.

You started your studying around one in the afternoon, and kept working on various assignments until around four, and then you locked in for your hardest class of the semester, American Judiciary Systems. It was just an intense amount of memorization, and you were going crazy.

When you started working, you were doing a good job; You made sure to keep drinking water, you were taking breaks! But somewhere along the way you started to slip on those habits. Maybe it happened after grabbing dinner with your boyfriend and his roommate, but before you got too comfortable on their dorm room floor.

And Matt was mad at you for it.

Okay, mad is a strong word.

But he's frustrated that you won't take care of yourself. He's a hypocrite for it, but he is. So, around one thirty in the morning, he pulls the textbook you're taking notes from out from beneath your heavy arms.

"Hey!" You whine, and Foggy, studying for the same midterm, picks his head up, and in his desirously tired state, tilts his head in confusion.

"You need to sleep." Matt tells you, and you scoff, before reaching for the book. Matt easily pulls it out of your way.

"That's easy for you to say! You took the midterm this morning and probably did amazing!"

"No, I took the midterm yesterday. And you both need to sleep, because if you don't, you'll fail the midterm anyways."

You roll your eyes and reach to your left to grab an unopened energy drink. Matt is quicker than you and snatches it away. In your sleep deprived state, you don't question how a blind man knew where the drink was.

"And no more energy drinks!" he demands. "It'll cause you to crash eventually. Then you'll sleep right through your alarm, and again, fail the midterm anyways." He reminds.

He would never let you or Foggy sleep through your alarm and miss the test, but right now his quest is to get you to sleep.

"Fine, no more energy drinks, but Matt, seriously, I need to--"

"You need to sleep!"

"Ugh!" You groan. You'd be embarrassed of yourself if you weren't so tired. Then, your head tilts back a bit and a yawn escapes your list.

"See! You yawned! Come on, sweetheart, let's go to bed." He demands. You shake your head.

"Can't." You yawn again. "Professor Aelwyn will have my ass." You hum. Matt moves around you and sits behind you, so your back is against his chest. His hands rub up and down your arms as he begins to speak,

"I'll wake you up early enough to grab breakfast, and then I'll help you guys do your last-minute cramming. But I'm serious, I'm worried you'll push yourself over the edge." Then, Matthew plays dirty. "Come on, baby," He begins to kiss your shoulders, and then your neck. "Come to bed."

"You two are gross." Foggy declares as he stands up, stretching out. He takes one last glance over his notes and then begins to clean up. "But unfortunately, dude is right. There's nothing we're gonna learn in the next half hour before we fall asleep that we can't learn tomorrow."

"My point exactly!" Matt hums. You sigh deeply, your hands coming up to your face and rubbing your eyes. Bed does sound nice... And Matt is always super warm.

"Fine." You grumble, leaning forward to clean up your notes. Then, Matt gets up and holds his hands out for you, and you take them, before he pulls you up off his floor. You groan at the pain from sitting on that damned floor and he sighs.

"I know, baby." He hums, and then leads you over to his bed. You hear Foggy's snores from behind you but you just barely manage to change into pajamas.

Then, you crawl into bed, cuddling up to Matt. Your face is buried in the crook of his neck, legs laid over his. Then, you sit up to double check that you've set three alarms, and that Matt's is also set.

He pushes your head back so that your face is against his neck again.

"Get some sleep, sweetheart."

"G'night, Matty."

He presses a kiss to your head, knowing you already have this text in the bag. He only falls asleep when he hears your breathing study and your heartbeat slow. His fingers gently comb through your hair, and as he drifts off, you begin to dream of running away from College, New York and everything else with your boyfriend, the first person who has ever truly loved you without any familial or platonic obligation.

You won't. You'll pass the midterm with him, pass all your finals, graduate and pass the bar together.

But it's nice to dream about for a moment. Luckily for you, Matt always makes reality just as lovely as your dreams.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil #daredevil fic #matt murdock fic #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock blurb #matt murdock blurbs

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joekeerysguitar · 8 months

Text

erasing the lies

not friends/slight enemies to lovers <3

overview: you are an a+ student who is well rounded, very disciplined, and hard working gets asked to tutor the most obnoxious, lazy, and rude boy who ever stepped foot on this planet… steve harrington. unable to say no, you help him.. but what you uncover is something completely unexpected..

included: angst, fluff, mutual feelings, happy ending, cursing, relationships, use of y/n

authors note: heyy everyone! sorry about not uploading or writing anything in a longggg time. i’ve been super busy lately and just trying to enjoy the summer but i’m back! came up with this super cute idea and i hope you enjoy! thank you for all the love on the rest of my fics!! much love, nina <3

¡! ❞ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ↳ ❝ [] ¡! ❞

“Mhm… yes.. she’ll be down shortly” The phone hits the receiver as your teacher spins around catching your eyes. “Y/N, the principal would like to see you.” She smiles her fake toothy grin as she resumes her lesson.

You feel the eyes on you as you quickly stuff your bag with your notebooks and pencils trying to get out of being the center of attention. You could hear the slight whispering of the class which feeds your inner thoughts.

“Oh shit, what did I do?”

“Am I in trouble?”

Quickly shutting the classroom door behind you, you exhale taking in the stale air of the empty hallway of Hawkins High School. You quickly walk down the hall as your heart beats wildly out of your chest. You can feel your stomach churn as you reach out for the door nob of the brown glass door that reads “Main Office.” The small bell at the top of the door rings alerting the secretary as you quickly step inside and shut the door gently. Taking a deep breath, you chase the butterflies away in your stomach as you loosen your shoulders and walk up to her forming a smile with your cherry lips.

“Uh hi, I was called down by the principal.” You mutter with a small smile.

“You must be Y/N?” She asks reading at a post it note on her desk. You nod trying to quickly get this interaction over with. “Have a seat dear.”

You walk over to the small sofa chair in the corner of the office. Bouncing your leg, you can feel the nervousness creep up from your core once again as the same questions float through your mind like clouds on a breezy day. You look around the room and notice old school yearbook photos, sports championship awards, and other boring memorabilia. Before you get a chance to read any, the door swings open to the person you did not want to see… the principal. He is older, with short small wisps of hair that adorn his mostly bald head. He is wearing a blue suit and you can see his beer belly slightly protrude from his attire.

“Come on in Y/N”

You quickly get out of the seat and follow him into the small crammed office. Your eyes immediate lock onto a very recognizable face here at Hawkins High. This face belongs to someone who’ve you have despised since elementary school. Someone who used to practically rule over the school, date every girl in the 5 mile radius, and keep his hair perfectly in place every single day. The King of Hawkins High was sitting right before your eyes.. the one and the only Steve Harrington. He just feverishly looks up at you before darting his eyes away and fiddles with his fingers embarrassingly. Your mind floods with endless questions as you take a seat next to him.

Steve Harrington is known for being the arrogant and snobby rich jock who’s only personality trait is hooking up with 50 girls a month. Rumors go around that his ex girlfriend Nancy Wheeler broke up with him because she cheated with Jonathan Byers and didn’t want to get risked getting caught. All you know is that you don’t want to mess with him or even talk to him. He fails all his classes, always goes to parties, and barely has his parents home.

Trouble.

The principal clears his throat, “I probably assume you two have never met. Let me introduce you two. Y/N this is Steve, Steve this is Y/N.”

Being polite you turn your head and put on a fake smile as he returns the favor before you both quickly look at the principal once again.

“Now I called you two down here not because you’re in trouble but I have an important question to ask.” He says flicking his eyes between you two.

Okay not in trouble.. that’s a good sign.

“Y/N, now I know you are in many advanced classes and receive very high grades.” You nod and smile agreeing with his statements. You feel Steve shift in his chair uncomfortably as you look over and see his face blush as red as a tomato. “Well, Steve here does not receive the best of grades. Right now, if he doesn’t pass his classes, he will be unable to qualify for graduation.” You nod you head as your head whirs with millions of thoughts…

“Pfft, no shit it’s Steve Harrington”

“Unable to graduate? I could never.”

“What does this even mean?”

“Well I was wondering if you would be interested in tutoring him? Either once or twice a week would suffice.” He says with a smile as he looks at you.

Your heart drops just like the roller coasters at amusement parks. Your stomach does a flip as you can feel your organs rearrange from inside. Your face starts to heat up as your palms begin to get sweaty. You’re bad at making decisions especially ones that require things you don’t like.

Tutor Steve Harrington? Shoot me now!

Looking over at Steve you notice him look up at you reading your face for any response. You just look at him and look at the principal as the thoughts zoom around your brain.

You don’t know what to do.

Should I be the better person? Should I help the douchebag? You decide to go with your gut, you can’t ever say no.

You look up at the principal. “Sure, why not.” You smile as you look over to Steve who just looks at you like his prayers got awnsered.

He knows your really smart. Really really smart. And pretty cute too. You know, maybe this whole tutoring thing would work out in his favor. He passes his classes and he gets a new chic.

“Perfect, thank you Y/N!” He smiles as he hands you Steve’s grade sheet. “He specifically needs to work on Physics and US History.”

You glance at his grade sheet as you read the grades.

Physics- D

English- C

US History- F

Geometry- B

Oh boy, these grades aren’t looking too hot.

The principal buds in again. “Tutoring could be 1-2 hours at either persons house. He must be fully prepared by the last month of school.” You nod your head placing his grade sheet in your bag.

“Steve why don’t you thank Y/N for helping you with your studies?” He demands looking at Steve.

“Thank you Y/N.” He says timidly looking up into your eyes for a split second.

His eyes were really pretty. Brown with a hazel undertone. They shined with the morning sun glimmering through the half drawn shades.

You just smile back at him and reply “You’re welcome. Does tomorrow night around 6:00 at my place work?” He nods as you exchange addresses.

You leave the office with a million thoughts in your head.

How are you supposed to tutor someone you hate. Out of all people it is goddamn Steve Harrington. The rich, snobby, and rude jock who knows nothing but of parties and alcohol. You’re not gonna enjoy these sessions, you already know it. Seeing him is bad enough, how you have to talk and teach him twice a week for the next several weeks. Might as well just dig your grave now.

¡! ❞ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ↳ ❝ [] ¡! ❞

“He will be here any min- ding.. I’ll get it.” You yell through the house. Steve had just ringed your doorbell. Your blood pressure just rose off the charts. You quickly run over to the front door and open it. There is Mr. Pretty Boy himself with his books cradled in his hands. He is wearing a dark green polo shirt with his usual blue jeans. He flashes you a charming hello smile as you step to the side and let him in.

That smile. Oh boy, made you feel different.

“Hi, how are you?” You ask watching him look around the house.

I’m sure he’s definitely judging it. Rich boy isn’t used to small rooms…

“I’m fine, how are you?” He asks catching you in the eye as you find yourself get lost in them.

Shake it off.. you gotta hate him…

Steve knows that he has this horrible reputation and he knows that people who don’t know him see him as what he used to be. His goal is to change that, whatever way possible. He hasn’t had a ton of friends since the whole situation. Heck, he dropped Tommy and his silly girlfriend. He really had no one.

He had hope.

Maybe you could be his first actual friend…

If he could prove to you that he changed…

He could even prove to himself that he won’t make mistakes ever again..

“Follow me.” You say tucking your hair behind your ears as you guide him to your room.

Your room was small and quaint. White walls with white decor. The accent the room was baby pink as you had several pictures of flowers or beaches on the wall. It was your comfy spot. Made you feel safe.

As you enter the room you walk over and sit down on your bed swinging your legs as they dangle off the floor. Beside you are the books you set out to study and practice with. Steve just looked around with a curious gaze in his eyes before he set his stuff down on your desk and walked over to sit beside you.

“Let’s get started.” You say turning to face him while you grab the Physics book from off the pile.

¡! ❞ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ↳ ❝ [] ¡! ❞

“What’s the awnser to Question #7?” You ask as you stare at his pondering complexion. You wait a few seconds. “Hello? Earth to Steve?” You ramble as you wave your hand in front of his face.

“What.. sorry.” He jumps back into reality looking bored.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly as he looks up into your eyes.

“Can we do something else?” He asks trying to read a reaction from your face.

“Yeah, Math or Social Studies?” You ask totally clueless.

“Not school Y/N.” He drags readjusting himself on your bed.

“Then what?” You ask a little harsher then expected. He looks surprised at your response.

“Jeez, you’re a little cranky.” He says sarcastically as he takes the book from your lap and places it on the ground. You watch as he fixes his hair after it gets into his face.

His hair is really nice. Dark thick hazelnut colored hair that is always perfectly styled and hair sprayed. They don’t call him “The Hair” for nothing.

You zoned out for a minute while studying his lucious locks and now he is taping your shoulder lightly to regain your attention.

“Sorry, just confused what you wanna do since the whole reason why you are here is to pass school.” You brush a piece of fallen hair from behind your ear.

Steve is not gonna lie to himself. You’re pretty cute, even when your cranky.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks looking confused as he looks into your darting eyes.

You search your brain for a response. You question telling him a lie or telling him the truth. Taking a deep breath you spit out the truth.

“Not currently. I mean it’s just a weird situation. You know, you’re popular and a jock and every girl on the planet is obsessed with you. And I’m not popular, a nerd, and never has had a boyfriend. So yeah this is a little awkward. Plus considering the fact that I thought you absolutely 100% hated me prior to this.” You blurt out with a nervous chuckle as you examine your fingers.

“What did I do to make you think that I hated you?” He asks inquisitively while still looking at you as he sees the blush to your cheeks.

“I mean in elementary school you did push me into a muddy puddle.” You say looking back up at him and smiling a bit.

He chuckles and says jokingly, “That’s the reason why? I’m sorry I did that Y/N but… maybe you deserved it.” His voice turns serious. “But on a serious note, let’s just scratch this whole stereotype thing and start fresh, okay?” He asks looking right into your ocean blue eyes as he extends his hand forward.

“Deal.” You laugh as you shake his hand. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you!”

“I’m Steve, nice to meet you too!” He smiles brightly.

Hard feelings vanished..

For the remainder of the night, you two talk small talk about what you two enjoy and things that are happening in your lives. To be honest, you don’t mind him. You enjoy his quick remarks, his flirty attitude, his humor, and most of all his company.

On the other hand, Steve never thought he would speak to you a day in his life. But here he is, talking about movies, people, etc with someone he just met 24 hours ago and hell he was enjoying it too! There was something about you, something that made him incredibly happy inside. Something that filled a void no one has even filled before.

By the time the night was over, you already exchanged phone numbers and planned your next session.

Steve nor you could not wait for the next time you saw eachother!

Something definitely changed with him over the years. You’ve learned so much from him and how he has grown to better himself. It feels like someone took a pink eraser and erased all the lies right off the paper. It was good as new!

Deep down you had a feeling though and Steve was definitely feeling it too..

Deep down you had a crush..

On Steve Harrington..

The person who you refused to even speak to about 24 hours ago..

And he had one on you too..

¡! ❞ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ↳ ❝ [] ¡! ❞

It was three days later and you and Steve were in the exact same spot practicing questions. You could tell by his body language that he was getting tired and bored. He got up and started to wander around your room with his usual playful smirk tugging at his lips. Steve was bored of studying, you two have been studying flash cards for two hours and he was at his wits end. Steve loved the little breaks or stupid activities the two of you would do when you both were tired and needed a break. He loved spending time with you, either if it was teasing you or just having a simple friend to friend conversation. You guys have gotten closer over the time spent together and he clearly recognizes that. At first, you used to be shy and more reserved but the more time you’ve spent with him, the more you’ve come out of your shell. He loves your fiery remarks or playful teasing you always delivered right back to him after he said something to you. He loved watching you become pissed at him or become sarcastic and quick-witted with him after he would ask a stupid question or pull a dramatic stunt. So, per usual he decided this was the time to do yet another stunt he had brewing in his heavily hair-sprayed mind.

“Steve, what the hell are you doing?” You question as you watch his eyes glaze over your desk as he reaches his purple sleeved arm over towards a book on it. “Put that down.” You bark as you get up and race towards him. The smirk only growing bigger on his face as he hears your distress.

“What is this?” He asks with squinted eyes as he begins to open the pages but before he could get a good look, you reach for it. Using his height advantage, he stretches his arm towards the ceiling which now suspended the book over your head.

“Give it to me! It’s my diary, put it down!” You beg as you brush up against him as you try to grab and reach it. He laughs as he stands in his tippy toes to get it higher as you jump to try to reach it. You’re practically chest to chest as you can feel his chest bounce quickly with each sharp laugh. He is getting a kick out of you freaking out. Suddenly, you realize you two are really close, too close for comfort. He senses your body language switch and suddenly returns to a more calm and collected state. He can feel his laughter fade as a small smile sits on his lips. He can feel his heart pick up as he locks eyes with yours as he resists the urge to pull you closer or look at your lips. You look even more beautiful up close as he notices the faint freckles peppering your cheeks and nose.

You stop as you lock eyes for a minute. Steve is a few inches taller than you but you two are face to face. Inches away from eachother. You examine his face close up. His hair is slightly disheveled with strands hang in front of his eyes. He has moles freckling his face like stars on a clear night. Your eyes flit down to his lips as you notice how cheery red they look close up. Quickly you look at him again, fearful of getting caught staring. You could feel your cheeks slightly blush and turn warm as you just stare into Steve’s brown sparkly eyes. The more you try to pull away, the more they pull you in. Steve feels the same way as he feels nervousness creep up from his core as his lips curve into a slight smile. He pulls the book down as he continues to lock eyes with yours. He has no idea how long it’s been. His mind is mush as he finds himself darting from your eyes to your lips..

“Here.” He whispers breathlessly as he hands you the book slightly backing up but keeping the eye contact.

“Thanks.” You reply as you blush a little harder now as you walk to your desk to place the book down and then you both return to the spot on the bed and continue.

¡! ❞ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ↳ ❝ [] ¡! ❞

In a matter of a two weeks, you two have gotten extremely close. You would if never imagined that you would be good friends with the most popular guy in school, the one all you’re friends tell you to stay away from.. yet he just draws you in. The endless amounts of nights where he calls you on the phone asking about homework as it suddenly turns into a three hour call where you two ramble about random topics. You’re falling faster than you thought you would.. crumbling as he created cute nicknames for you and knows everything that makes you tumble over in laughter. He’s a complete opposite of you and your morals, yet you two seem to attract like a magnet.

Steve has learned to know you like a book, using his charismatic and charming personality he knows exactly what makes you blush or makes you laugh. As the study sessions go on, he picks up on your body language and your habits. He enjoys listening to you ramble for hours on end about friends or your family. He’s never really felt such an instant connection with someone before especially only knowing them for a few weeks now.

Today marks the last study session before Steve’s test. The last time you’ll see him roll his eyes at a physics question, the last time he will tease you about your stupidly high grades and how smart you are, the last time you two don’t focus on the task and do other things. You feel sadness forming in your heart hoping that after this, he continues to want to talk on the phone or even hang out. You love seeing him wave and smile at you in school or meeting you at your locker to talk. But you’re scared, you’re scared that he’s gonna put on his cocky jock attitude and won’t speak to you again… completely cut you out. You’ve seen a different side to him that you’ve never seen before. He’s sweet, considerate, and gentle around you. Never fails to have you think about him endlessly once he leaves your house or you hang up on the phone…

Little do you know, he feels the same. The same feeling poking him in the gut, the feeling where you want to hold on and never let go.

You’re suprised when your doorbell rings earlier than usually. You glance at the small watch on your left wrist as it reads “4:00 pm.” But you two agreed on 7:00 pm the night prior. You quickly brush your hair behind your shoulders as you open the door.

“Hey Steve, you’re early.” You say with a smile as you notice him blushing a bit in embarrassment. His cheeks are a slight pink as he smiles at you.

“Uh hey Y/N, sorry I’m early.” He pauses for a second. “Are you busy? Am I interrupting anything?” He asks a little more concerned now as the blush intensifies on his cheeks.

You shake your head as you chuckle a bit. “No.. no.. you’re not interrupting anything.”

“Okay good, I was wondering if I could just come now.. I know it’s our last night so I wanted some extra practice before the test tomorrow morning.” He says reading your face for an answer.

Now if he was Pinocchio, his nose would grow larger.. because he is lying. His pants are on fire.

“Of course, come on in!” You say with an enthusiastic smile as you move to the side to let him in.

¡! ❞ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ↳ ❝ [] ¡! ❞

“Okay last physics question, I promise.” You say with a teasing smile as he rolls his eyes. You ask him a pretty difficult question as you could see the gears practically turning in his head. He answers correctly as a beaming smile forms on your lips. You notice the pure excitement on his face at your reaction.

Steve cannot help but to feel his heart flutter to see the reaction you just gave him. A huge proud beaming smile.. one that makes him want to melt into a big puddle on your bed. He thinks your reaction is the cutest thing, you’re the cutest thing and he feels like it’s the right time to ask his question.

Once you two calm down a bit and all the books are put away, you’re staring Steve right in the face. He’s just smiling gently at you, his eyes dazzling in the soft light of your room. You feel the butterflies form in your stomach as you break the comfortable silence.

“How do you feel for tomorrow? Good? Bad?”

“I think I’ll be okay, pretty nervous” He says with a shrug as he smiles a bit hesitant at you, you notice how his demeanor has changed. He seems more nervous and quiet now.

“You’ll do great, trust me!” You say trying to lighten the mood as you earn a smile from him. You give him a comforting smile as you grab his hand and hold it in yours gently squeezing it.

Your touch practically sends Steve to the moon. He just feels so happy, he feels all the nerves and worries washing away as you gently hold his hand in comfort. He truly believes every word you’re saying.

He clears his throat before asking a bit nervously. He’s been thinking about this plan all night and all day. He wants to celebrate with you, regardless if he passes or not. He wants to treat you for volunteering your time to help him. And of course, he just wants to spend some time with you. You make his day with these sessions as you constantly giggle at his jokes making his heart soar or seeing you smile so beautifully. You’re like treasure to him, he wants to cherish you forever.

“Y/N, do you possibly want to go and get ice cream with me when it’s all done and over with… like a celebration type of thing?” He asks with a gentle smile as a hint of pink crowds his cheeks.

You let his statement settle in the air as you feel your heart pick up at the words. Without a second thought you reply, “I would love too, Steve!” You can feel the heat rise to your cheeks as you smile unstoppably at him. You see his eyes open wide in happiness in response as the smile grows bigger on his freckled cheeks.

Head over heels..

¡! ❞ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ↳ ❝ [] ¡! ❞

Steve has refused to tell you the outcome of his test until you two were seated on the back trunk of his car indulging in your ice creams. His treat, of course.

“So Steve…” You say pausing to swallow. “What did you get?” You push the spoon around the sprinkled covered ice cream as you wait for him to respond.

Steve places his icecream down as you copy him looking at him more curious now. You watch the sides of his mouth curve into a grin. “I passed, everything!” He says excitedly. You can’t help but to squeal in surprise as you wrap your arms around him for a hug.

“I’m so proud of you!” You say muffled against his shoulder. You can feel his broad arms wrap around your lower back as he hugs you back. You can feel the sudden chill from the ice cream melt away.

You pull away as you look him dearly in the eyes with a sincere smile on your face. “See, I told you that you could do it!” You say smiling even wider. You’re so so so happy, this made your day.. your week even.

Steve has never seen you this happy for anything ever. Heck, Steve has never even had anyone this happy for him. He just feels this overwhelming sense of accomplishment and joy that fills his entire body.

You both are now just looking at each other with huge smiles, enjoying the comfortable silence. Steve feels like he should make a move, before he loses you. He’s afraid that after this, your friendship could disappear. You would go back to your friends and he would hang out with his. And he didn’t want that. He wanted to be with you.

“So what was the final sc-“ You’re interrupted mid sentence as he presses his lips delicately against yours. You gasp into his lips as your eyes dart shut. His hand gently caresses your cheek as your body freezes. He pulls apart smiling and blushing madly as he looks at you lovingly. You just stare like a dear in headlights at him. You’re shocked and can’t even process what just happened.

Steve Harrington just kissed you.

Your cheeks are a crimson color now as you smile shyly at him. Without a second thought, it’s your turn to confess how you feel. And by this, you press your lips against his once more. His lips are pillowy soft and taste sweet from the ice cream. One of your hands cups his cheek while the other rests gently on his shoulder. You can feel his hand come and press against your lower back as he pulls you closer to him as the other pulls hair behind your ear delicately. You pull apart with a smile as you become nervous and shy around him. You can feel the absence on your lips as butterflies course through your tummy.

Steve is genuinely surprised that you feel the same way. He would never think that you, a smart and determined girl would ever fall in love with a dumb, cocky jock. He’s only known you for about a month now but it feels like it’s been years. You two just instantly clicked. Maybe opposites do attract..

He just feels overwhelming happy as he just stares at you with the biggest gushy smile and sparking eyes as he wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close to him. You rest your head on his shoulder as you two just watch the sun set behind the trees, feeling totally in love.

Maybe people aren’t as bad as they seem..

People can change, people can grow..

And all you know, is you love Steve for who he is and who he became..

Because the lies were erased clean off the page.

¡! ❞ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ↳ ❝ [] ¡! ❞

thank you for reading!! <3 hope you enjoyed the fic!!

#joe keery #steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #fanfic #joe keery stranger things #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #enimes to lovers #school

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livesincerely · 3 months

Note

i was just reading back through your writer’s desks and remembered how much i loved the slideshow au! no pressure but do you have anymore thoughts on it? it’s just one of my faves <3

The outline/notes for that one are still in the very early stages but I’m happy to share what I’ve got so far!

00000

He’s waiting for Tony to come back from the bathroom, the next episode of Crime Scene Kitchen queued up on the tv, when his phone vibrates with a text from Jack.

this prod meeting is running long, probs won’t be back until late. Go ahead and watch w/o me

Everything ok?

ya but part of the set got busted during a scene change so I gotta figure when/how to fix it before tomorrow night

I’ll put your takeout in the fridge and save you some egg rolls

and that’s why you’re my favorite

Say hi to Medda for me

of course

“Jack’s not going to be home until late,” Davey announces as Tony wanders back into the living room. “He says we should start without him.”

….

“Dave,” Tony says, sighing deeply. “Why am I looking at a PowerPoint titled, “Jack Kelly + David Jacobs: A Comprehensive Argument for Maintaining Equilibrium.”

Davey pins him with a scathing look. “It’s a Google Slides presentation, you godless heathen.”

“What the fuck?” Tony asks, ignoring him, clicking rapidly through the screens. “When did you even make this?”

Davey shifts in his seat. “I mean, it’s more of a living document, so it’s never really finished—“

“Davey.”

“A couple years ago, I guess,” Davey says. “Give or take.”

Tony squints at the computer screen. “It’s saved on your old university account.”

“Okay, or maybe it was three months into junior year!” Davey admits, crossing his arms over his chest. “It was a stressful semester and I was super nervous about failing my animal science midterm and Jack was out on a date with that PoliSci major that lived upstairs and— And the when isn’t the point! The point is, according to my research, telling Jack isn’t worth the risk of ruining our friendship.”

“What are these graphs even measuring?” Tony asks, staring at one of the slides. “‘Overall Happiness, Jacobs v Others’?”

….

“Well, your math is absolute shit, for one thing,” Tony says, frowning at a graph entitled ‘Art Pieces per Subject’. Davey’s name is sitting in dead last. “There’s no way these numbers are right. Jack draws you literally all of the time.”

Davey frowns right back at him. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Uh, yeah he fucking does,” Tony disagrees. “You’re, like, one of his favorite things to make art of, period. He spends about half his time bitching about how copic doesn’t make a marker that matches your eyes—at this point I’m pretty sure he’s got more drawings of you than actual pictures.”

“I think I would’ve noticed if Jack suddenly started drawing me,” Davey scoffs, shaking his head. “It’s not like he’s subtle when something’s caught his eye. Plus, he lets me flip through his sketchbooks whenever he finishes filling one and I’m almost never in them.”

“Which one?” Tony asks.

Davey blinks. “Which one, what?”

“Which one,” Tony repeats, oddly intent. “Which sketchbook does he show you?”

“What do you mean, which one?” Davey asks, irritated. “The only one! The one he always— it’s not like it’s some big secret!”

Tony stares. Then Tony sighs.

Very quietly, Davey hears him mutter, “…pair of fucking morons.”

…..

“Okay, but, riddle me this,” Tony says. “Why don’t you just tell him? What’s the worst that could happen?”

“What’s the worst that could— I literally just went over all the reasons why that’s a horrible idea!” Davey exclaims. “It would ruin everything!”

“I really don’t think it would, Dave,” Tony says. “You and Jack… will ya at least think about it?”

“I’ve done nothing but think about it,” Davey says, and to his horror, he can feel his eyes starting to sting. “I can’t.”

“Want me to do it?” Tony offers, and he says it like a joke but Davey knows him too well to think that he’s anything but absolutely serious.

He jolts forward, arms outstretched as if to preemptively cram the words back down his throat. “Don’t you fucking dare, Tones, I am so fucking serious—“

“Okay, okay!” Tony says, holding up his hands in surrender. “I won’t snitch on your neurotic ass, even if it’d make you happier in the long run. My word as my bond or whatever.”

Davey huffs out a laugh, and it’s only a little teary. “Fuck you, my neurotic ass is the reason you made it to graduation, shithead.”

…..

“Hey, can I borrow your laptop?” Jack asks. “Mine’s dead and I left my charger at the theater.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Davey absently responds.

…..

“Davey,” Jack says, voice straining. “What the hell is this?”

“What is what?” Davey asks.

“This.” He turns the laptop around and— oh shit. It’s The Argument.

He feels his blood run cold. “Oh,” he says. “That.”

“Dave,” Jack says, his mouth set in a hard, thin line. “Did you make a fucking PowerPoint about me? About us?”

Davey swallows. “…It’s actually a Google Slides presentation,” he says weakly.

…..

“You’re telling me this is nothing?” Jack demands, incredulous. He tilts the screen back to show Davey the current slide, which is just an enlarged photo of Jack’s handsome, smiling face, surrounded by a halo of red arrows and the caption, ‘JUST LOOK AT HIM,’ written in boldfaced text. “Nothing? Nothing at all?”

“Maybe we can stop looking at it now,” Davey says, loudly. He leans over the back of the couch, making another panicked grab for his laptop, but Jack dodges out of the way, clicking to the next slide.

#*ask #newsies #javid #*editor's note #*the writing desk #bits & bobs #the google slides fic #this is the roughest of rough drafts but I hope it was legible and made some kind of sense?#hope you enjoy!!!#☺️

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kimsmuse · 9 months

Note

Hiii, I just came across your blog, and I L O V E it! Since you said you were looking for a recommendation, here's one from me. Yandere school president. They have immense power at their school because not only are they the president, but their parents own the school. Their word is quite literally the law at this school. He just so happens to be head over heels in love and obsessed with you. Give in to their obsessive and possessive love or suffer the consequences. Since he holds so much power, he can make you a school outcast in less then a week, and he can have teachers fail you or pick on you for the stupidest reasons ever, he'll make your life a living hell at school if you don't accept his twisted and fucked up love, it's best to just be a good darling, and let yourself be loved on his own terms. It's a concept I've thought about a lot, but I haven't seen much of it. Anyways, thank you for your time, and keep up the good work!!!

okay okay omg first of all your brain???? this way too good and oml now i'm sad i spent my entire school life without a class prez like this :( but let's talk about this !!! this is mildly inspired by this one guy from the kdrama called taxi driver (ep 3) !!!

gender neutral!reader. warnings for obsessive behavior, mentions of killing someone but it's nothing graphic. blackmail/coercion type thing?? and typical yandere behavior.

okay so yandere!class president who is so focused, he's the top student of the grade and he's good at sports too?? captain of the basket ball team?? i don't know how he does it because i really couldn't but anyway even apart from that he keeps on taking part and neatly scoring in debates, and writing contests, you name it and he's doing it. it does happen sometimes that he ends up getting silver or bronze but he's there on the list somehow.

and obviously if you've ever been a teenager then you know how attractive this type of people are, because they're good at everything, because they look very unattainable and bonus for our class president is that he's super hot as well. so obviously he had a classroom filled with admirers. and he loved the attention, who doesn't? but he's never thought more of it than that, the aspect of romance is kinda alien to him, he's had his fair share of physical relationships (if they can be even called that) but none of them too good to stay.

so he keeps on with his day, his cram school, having lunch, dinner, studying, more studying.

and when he bumps into you from his way back from the library, he just stops dead in his tracks as you attempt to pick up the books you both dropped, and when you look up at him he's literally frozen. who are you? why has he never seen you around? why do you look so pretty? hey, where's that romantic instrumental playing from? why-

"hey, mister, are you okay? i didn't hit your head or anything right?"

and trust me when he's the literal embodiment of the ":0" emoji.

anyway, but that guy has never had a crush before so at first he just feels like its some kinda internal intuition? that there's something wrong with you or something.

but then he finds himself trying to find your class, sitting there on the excuse of talking to some friends and obviously he's welcomed there.

and he figures that his initial impression might be a wrong because you were such a sweetheart. not as popular as him, and you stuck to your 2-3 friends but he saw the way you would smile at people - a gentle, warm one. and he quite literally died when you greeted him that way once, surprised that you would know about his existence

it wasn’t that he forgot he was famous but having a crush really does wonders to your self esteem.

also you best believe he's digging up all your information, your past schooling if you've transferred, your parents' background, your social media and duh, where you live, where you work.

and if you work somewhere like a cafè or a convenience store, he's there for half the day, "studying" for exams and stuff, he claims it helps more than studying at home. and all the time his eyes barely register a page because he's looking at you as you're hard at work, helping customers, greeting them with that damned, charming smile and then in rare moments he looks at you as you lose that demeanor and sigh out of exhaustion. poor baby, he wished he could something for you so bad in those moments.

and then comes the part where his friends (he has a lot of friends but he believed that when you have a crush you shouldn’t tell everyone? also given his popularity... he figured it wouldn't be a greatest idea ever. so he only told like a guy or two) they adviced him to just go up to you and ask you out? what's the problem even? he's literally the golden boy of the school, why would someone reject him ever? you shouldn’t even be worried about that, dude! but with that confidence in himself, he decides on a day, nothing too significant and he looks at himself in the mirror.

"uh, actually, i do have a partner," did you hear that? the glass shattering? uh, that was his heart. that was his reaction when you told him this. but it was true, you had a partner in another country (which made sense that the yandere did not come to know of this before because he had been following you, just to make sure you were safe ofcourse, and he did not see a persosn who could classify as a romantic threat) and you loved them very much! no matter how cute and great this guy was, you were loyal to them.

and now cue the yandere's sad era. but only for like a day or two. until he realizes something. this was absurd, you were rejecting him? when so many people would literally kill for something like this? it was unbelievable. but he was deadset, this was the first time he felt this way for someone and he was determind to make you feel the same, or at least keep you with him, and he would do it with any means necessary.

he realized that your friends' parents were mere employees in his dad's company so all it took was one meeting. "stop talking to y/n." for them to start ignoring you and they did not even try to keep it lowkey and you had to resort to sitting alone at lunch, giving an easy access to the guy who used it as a time to sit beside you and tell you about his day, nevermind the fact that for the first few times you would just up and leave. and then you finally decided to just snap.

"what the fuck do you want?" you look at him, frustrated by all these things, and changes happening in your life in less than a week.

he just smirked, that mf had the audacity to smirk? "you, ofcourse,"

now he wasn’t quite violent because he'd just entered adulthood, he did not want to fuck up and spend the rest of his years in jail (not that he actually would because his parents would be hiring the world's best lawyers for him) but he did imagine it, murdering your s/o. he did not know what they looked like, but all they saw was you happy in their arms and as much he loved that little smile of yours, he wanted it to be for himself! not someone else!

so anyway, after you storm out on him after the last conversation, you get your english test results back and a big, red F is staring at you.

and normally your parents weren't grade obsessed but you would boast to them about how good you were at english and how much you loved the subject and even the teacher agreed thaf you were good at it.

when you meet with the teacher after class, he just removes his spectacles and rubs his eyes, "listen, y/n, you're one of the smartest students i've had the pleasure of teaching. so make the right choice, it's good for your future. just say yes to him. he's not bad, you know,"

he was behind this???????

you felt even more utterly helpless when you found that the yandere's parents fund almost more than half of the school so there’s nobody who would be willing to go against them and help you, no matter how much you would plead them.

"a transfer? don't even think about it, baby, nobody is going to issue that certificate unless i say so,"

chills run down your neck as he whispers this. you were truly stuck with him.

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