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#usually i hate flip magazines
tteokdoroki · 5 months
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☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. a flicker of a flame.
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about. when satoru notices the flicker of cursed energy within your unborn child, he starts to feel the weight and nerves of becoming a father.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, expecting parents, reader is pregnant, hospitals, nerves about being parents, listen idk how gojo’s cursed technique works so here u go >:( canon verse, expecting father!gojo, fem!reader.
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“i can see it…like…flickering inside of you.”
satoru carries an expression of intrigue, like a child who’s just discovered a new sensation.
you flip the page of your magazine, not bothering to spare your husband a glance while you instead choose to admire the many strollers and their offers that decorate the page. “don’t be weird, satoru.” you tap a perfectly manicured nail against the one you like most, leaning over to show the item to him.
“but it’s there… like actually there.” the sorcerer replies, keeping his voice low despite the loud ambience of the maternity ward’s waiting room. people crying, people celebrating, families already full of children gathering around to hear more exciting news. “i like that one. it’ll fit in the hallway too. do you want it in grey or in black?”your husband passes you a pen from the depths of your tote bag in his lap, letting you circle the stroller in the magazine so you know to come back to it.
this time, you do him the honours of looking up at him — a fresh glare settled on your glowing features. “satoru gojo please stop referring to our baby as an ‘it’.” you sigh in exhaustion, watching him slump in his seat because you know he hates it when you’re irritated with him. “i thought you were excited about having a baby girl. and the grey one, it goes with your eyes.”
that seems to perk him up enough, earning you a kiss to your cheek that has you smiling like a fool in the nurses office. “sorry, sorry…” satoru starts to coo warmly, a soft tone that’s usually reserved for you and his students. “it’s just that… every time i look at you, i see two vessels of cursed energy instead of one. there’s a flicker of a flame there, right where she would be. it’s blowing my mind.” he points to your bump, nestled away under the layer of his clothing since they’re the only thing that makes you feel comfortable right now.
you close your magazine slowly, fighting the flutter of your heart and the warmth that spreads through your body. you know that your husband is being cautious, overly observant and extremely over protective — being pregnant and having a baby in your line of work was dangerous. scary, even. but you knew that satoru wanted this with you, and you him. that he cared a little too hard or worried slightly too much because while he was the strongest, you’d become every target and every weakness to him.
you and your daughter.
an unborn child who may possibly have the powers of a god among men.
so, instead you tuck away the irritation that comes with your hormones and let your gaze slink over to the large man squished into the abnormally small seat of the waiting room — just to be by your side. “do you need me to explain how pregnancy works, satoru?” you quip and rest your head on your knuckles, just to make him laugh and ease up a little.
a wiry smile starts to tug at the corner of his soft, pink lips. “i’d rather you show me but i think we got the fun part nailed.” gojo’s face splits into a wide grin, making you roll your eyes. “we made her, yanno. she’s alive in there because you’re keeping her safe.”
“and you too, mister six eyes.” you tap his skull, brushing against pure white locks, as gojo leans over you affectionately — probably in demand for a kiss (which you give).
the receptionist calls your family name from the front desk — no doubt to call you in for your neonatal appointment. another set of scans to help confirm your little girl is nice and healthy before you tell the rest of your friends and family later today.
gojo wanted to hand out copies of your scans to everyone at dinner. show off.
but as you stand, satoru goes quiet, offering you his hand as aid. “do you think…do you want…” pressing his lips into a thin line, your husband mulls over his words whilst guiding you down the hall to the doctors office — nodding to the receptionist to thank her as you pass. “i hope she doesn’t have what i have. i wouldn’t wish this burden on anyone.” he looks you straight in the eye, blue eyes piercing your soul. you feel your baby move and kick, forcing you to wonder if she’ll have the same mind blowing eyes as her father. “i hope she’s like you. beautiful and strong and—“
“ours. she’ll be ours and the best parts of both of us. her daddy’s strength, bravery, good looks and her momma’s wits, pretty ‘get me what i want eyes’ and smarts too.” you laugh, bright and loud as you cut gojo off — turning to look at him with a happy smile. “if she turns out like that, the best parts of both of us she’ll be perfect. i’ll love her because you gave her to me, we can figure out the rest later.”
that seems to reassure satoru, who sags in relief by your side as he wraps an arm around you, his large palm splaying across your baby bump. “you’re right, you’re right,” he grins again, feeling her little feet mercilessly kick at his palm. “as long as she’s healthy, we’ll be fine. i love you.”
“we love you too.” you swoon a little too much.
satoru gojo will be a great father, you think, your baby girl is so lucky — she has the strongest daddy in the world and he loves her a little too much already.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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disneyprincemuke · 5 months
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midnights * mv1
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since your breakup, max hadn’t thought of you. until he stumbled home by himself in the middle of the night.
pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader
warnings: honestly just heartbreak all around
notes: i started writing this when i found out my ex-boyfriend was dating someone new, and now here i am 💀 and i fear i am on my phone once more; i will credit the gif in the morning when i get to school
(next)
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the lock clicks as max turns his key, the sound echoing in the eerily empty hallway behind him. he turns the knob and was greeted by his empty apartment.
max hasn’t been home in almost 2 weeks. the races and his media commitments, topped by other projects just made it so rare to find the time to come home. but that’s not the only reason he’s avoiding the confinements of these four walls.
he flips the switch in the entryway, slipping his shoes off. immediately, he notices the vast difference in the way his apartment looks — how strangely lifeless it feels.
he can’t exactly pinpoint what it is and it takes him a second to realise.
you’d emptied his apartment of your belongings.
the breakup happened in the 2 weeks he was away from home. it actually took place a night before his race. he’d grown tired of it too, the neverending misunderstandings and the fights.
so he let you walk away; you hopped on a flight back home.
he hasn’t exactly had the time to think about you since then. you’d only texted him once: two days ago to tell him that victoria will be the one with the cats until he comes back. he’d only replied with a simple ‘okay, thank you’.
he didn’t really know what to say either. he stared at your text message for 5 minutes before daniel called him over to start filming a promotional shoot. that was all he could come up with.
max walks further into the apartment you’d once shared. his eyes are darting all over the place, taking mental notes of spots that look different from the way he had left it.
the framed picture of you with the cats is gone, your magazines on the coffee table, the bowl of your collection of scrunchies as a ‘conversation-starter’ centrepiece — it’s all gone.
his apartment didn’t even feel like home. all of the things that made it feel like home just isn’t in here anymore.
max turns his body, taking a glance at the entryway. even your house slippers aren’t where they usually are. it’s as if you were never even here.
he takes a walk further in, glancing at the sofa. it seems so lifeless now without the teddy bear you brought in, and the blanket that you insisted was only for the living room.
he admits he misses the teddy bear. though, he was opposed to the idea at first, claiming that it’s taking up precious space that you could both be maximising together. it proved a lot more useful when he found himself hugging it when he’s on the sofa watching a show with you.
the remotes for all the appliances are no longer scattered over the furniture mysteriously. they are all lined up neatly on the edge of the coffee table, grouped accordingly. you hated arranging the console remotes for the simple fact that you were too lazy to reach forward an inch to start playing.
and it finally hits him, that in the moment of pride, and simply protecting his peace at the moment, he has now lost you.
for good, it seems.
max drops himself on the couch. he’s still looking around, desperately wishing that this was some cruel dream he’s in. he will wake up with you by his side, your hair in his face with his arm draped lazily around your body. he will wake up and you are still his, and he is yours.
he can only sigh. audbily, at the predicament he has found himself in. at the time, it didn’t occur to him to fight for you; to ask you to stay. he didn’t have it in him to ask you to find reason within yourself to change your mind.
then he hears a soft meow, followed by sounds of pitter patter against the floor of the apartment. before he knew it, the couch dips ever so slightly and then there’s jimmy climbing onto his lap to greet him.
then he hears actual footsteps, slippers dragging against the floor. he turns his head slightly, his one hand patting the feline’s head, and meets victoria’s eyes.
“max?”
“victoria.”
a set of lights by the windows are turned on, granting him a look at his younger sister. she’s standing by the door of the guest bedroom with a jacket hanging loosely around her shoulders.
she has a frown on her face, and a look that screamed she didn’t know what to say to him.
and then his heart breaks. instead of walking through those apartment doors hand in hand with you, giggling from the high you’d get from the bar in his private jet, he is sitting her all by himself. met by his younger sister, who would be gone by morning to go back to her family.
max can only smile sadly at her. he shrugs. “we broke up.”
“i know,” she answers softly, nodding understandingly. she approaches him cautiously with her arms slightly held up. “i’m sorry.”
“me too.”
max scrambles from his position and gladly takes in the hug that she’s offered him. he suddenly feels so small, his heart aching in his chest and his throat closing up. he feels the tears in his eyes as he hugs his younger sister slightly tighter.
she rubs her back up and down, hugging him even tighter when she feels his chest stagger slightly. now he’s sniffling and hands are moving up to his face to wipe the tears falling from his eyes.
“give it time,” victoria whispers, swaying slightly in an attempt to comfort the driver. “i promise everything will fall back into place. slowly, but surely.”
max sighs deeply. “i don’t know why i didn’t stop her from walking away.”
she pulls away from the hug, then tugs his hands towards the couch when he chases her embrace. she leans back, pulling max in for a tighter — and slightly more comfortable — hug.
“i know it sucks now,” she rests her cheek on the top of his head, squeezing his shoulder empathetically. “but let things sort itself out. it will be okay.”
there, in his sister’s arms, he cried for the first time since your breakup. he had been so busy that he hadn’t been able to process the whole situation at all.
the way you had shot daggers at him through your eyes that night, how he snapped at you when he noticed and how the fight had erupted from something barely of significance.
it was just over a cup of coffee — how you had made it with 2 sugars instead of 3.
from there, the topics of contention had evolved into something bigger. in the haze of both of your anger, past arguments were brought up and new ones were created just in that night.
then both of you grew tired. you ended up next to him on the couch of his driver’s room in silence. and you said, “i can’t do this anymore, max.”
and he had said to you, “i’m tired.”
but what he should’ve said was: “i’m sure we can find a way through this.”
but that’s not what he said to you. he stayed silent when you brought it up: “i think we need to break up.”
frankly, he didn’t really know what to say. at first, he was dumbfounded at what you said. never did he think, that when you first start dating, that a breakup would ever present itself.
max told himself, about 4 months into the relationship that there’s absolutely no way he’d end up with anybody else except you.
now, it seems he’s going to have to go through all of this by himself. start the whole thing all over again, unless something changes.
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andvys · 25 days
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
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Chapter five ⭐︎ 'Cause you know it could never be
Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of the upside down, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of Stancy (I guess), but none really
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: Weeks had passed since your conversation with Steve, and things between you have shifted into a different direction...
Word count: 8k+
Author's note: @hellfire--cult shoutout to my bestieeee, thank you for helping me and for keeping me in check, I love u
Series masterlist ⭐︎ Previous chapter ⭐︎ Next chapter
As the weeks passed, the warmth slowly started to surround Hawkins. The flowers have all bloomed, the sun is blessing the town with light and it’s something you greatly appreciate, knowing that things could’ve been so different had victory not been the outcome weeks back. 
The day Steve had come by to apologize and talk, things had started to change between the two of you. While you tried to avoid him at all costs, fearing more confrontations and arguments, Steve had done everything to show you that he really wanted to keep the peace between you both. 
You felt awkward around him for the first few days after your conversation, especially because it felt like he was walking on eggshells when he was around you, he bit his tongue whenever you tried to throw a jab at him, he looked at you differently, he was careful with his words and it annoyed you to no end. You never wanted him to feel like he had to be nice to you after what happened. Luckily, he couldn’t keep his act up for long, the moment you said something that was enough to set him off, you went back to your usual banters – though, it didn’t feel as rough as it did before. 
You were also dragged into everything involving the whole group. It’s something you would have hated if it wasn’t for Eddie who somehow had nestled his way into your life and reached for the title ‘best friend’ before you could even blink. Despite the fear that still lingered deep inside of you, you let him in and you are glad that you did so. You really needed a friend. 
But you are not the only one who grew close to Eddie in the past few weeks, Steve has also taken a great liking to him, and you now see more of him than ever before, because now it isn’t only the weekly movie or game nights that you spend time with him, it’s also Tuesday nights at the hideout, Wednesday nights at the movies, Sunday mornings at the diner and… you don’t mind for a single second. 
You used to watch him from afar, now he is everywhere you go and while the relationship you two have isn’t exactly friendly, you still appreciate it. You’ll take anything you can get when it comes to him. 
You eye Eddie through the vanity mirror, watching as he lounges on your bed, flipping through some old magazine he had found on your shelf. His curls are wild on his head, a little tamer than usual though, a few new rings adorn his fingers as well as the new shirt that doesn’t exactly fit the occasion. 
“Eddie, you could have at least put a nice shirt on! A black one! Without a stupid band logo at the front!” 
“Stupid?” He gasps as he sits up, staring at you, looking very offended, “let me remind you, Sweetheart. None of them are stupid, they are meaningful and artistic.”
Max scoffs at him, trying not to shake her head as you’re still using the hot curling iron on her hair. 
“Right, because the music video of that Samuel made absolutely fucking sense.” 
He drops the magazine and jumps up from the bed, his jaw dropping at her words. 
“You mean Samson!?” He almost yells, “Biceps of Steel is a masterpiece, Red!” 
You and Max share a look of amusement through the mirror, scoffing simultaneously. 
“Yeah, you made me watch that video like four times,” she rolls her eyes at him. 
Eddie squints his eyes at her, continuing his ramble while you smile at their bantering. 
Not only did you and Eddie grow closer, he and Max did too. Eddie’s new home is close to Max’s, just like back in the trailer park. And the teen just loves to bother Eddie and Uncle Wayne, more so Eddie in the early morning hours, knowing how grumpy he will get. She still snaps at him and judges his ‘poor’ taste in movies and music but he only judges back, though playfully. They behave like siblings and you never get bored watching their banters. 
Eddie is the brother Max deserved to have. 
“Bla bla bla,” she rolls her eyes at him, sighing in relief when you finish up with the final touches. 
“Who taught you to be so rude, Red?” Eddie shakes his head in disapproval.
Max only laughs in response, she leans closer to the mirror and turns her head to the side as she touches her curls. Her eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face, “thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” you smile as you put the curling iron on your vanity. 
Max gets up from the chair, she walks out of the room and into the hallway, still limping a little but the cast on her leg is already gone.
“I’ll call Lucas and see if he’s ready,” she says as she walks down the stairs. 
You turn to face Eddie, who is staring at the dress you are wearing, like he only noticed it now. The playful smile on his face is now gone, replaced by a teasing one. 
“Got all pretty for someone?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 
You tilt your head and squint your eyes, “it was a formal invitation, Eddie! You just didn’t get the memo.” You point to his band shirt before you turn away from him and sit down on the chair, picking up your lipstick that you haven’t applied yet. 
Eddie rolls his eyes at your words, walking closer to you, he leans down and puts his hands on his knees, staring at you through the mirror. 
“Darling, apple of my eye, sweetheart, long lost soulmate… I am not buying shit.” 
You keep staring at your lips, careful not to go over the lines as you apply the rosy tone to them, only when you’re done and you put the lipstick in the bag you had picked out earlier, you look up at him with a sigh. 
“It’s the same as always, Eddie.”
“Is it?” He tilts his head, still looking at you with that same teasing smile. “Cause while you do wear all these trendsetter outfits, I never saw you wear a dress this… fancy.” 
“Trendsetter outfits?” You laugh, furrowing your brows at him. “And fancy? It’s just a black dress!”
He raises his brows, stepping away as he looks down at the silky fabric on your form. 
“A little black dress.”
“Well, look who’s the trendsetter now!” You snort. 
He walks back to your bed, picking up the fashion magazine that has a little black dress on the cover. He raises it up, showing it to you, “Vogue taught me.” 
Shaking your head, you look back at your reflection and add the final touches to your hair, before you apply your favorite perfume. You get up and smoothe down your dress, it’s beautiful and you have been dying for a chance to wear it. But your stomach suddenly fills with doubt because of his reaction. Are you overdressed? No… right? It’s truly nothing special. It’s just a dress, a little black and silky dress, nothing fancy about it. 
Besides, Joyce invited you all to a formal dinner, after all. You can’t show up in jeans and a t-shirt, even Max put on a skirt today and that girl hates dresses and skirts with a passion.
But maybe Eddie was right, maybe… you did think of a certain someone when you bought this dress, and maybe you do feel your insides tingling at the thought of seeing him again tonight, maybe you did get pretty for him – even when you know that he will have eyes for somebody else all night. That thought makes you want to stay at home and hide from the world but you can’t back out now, you couldn’t even decline the invitation you got from Joyce herself when you ran into her at the coffee shop two weeks ago. 
She is one of the few people in this godforsaken town that you have always liked. Finding out that she is now dating Jim Hopper – the very alive Jim Hopper, wasn’t exactly a surprise to you. You heard all the rumors about them, even before you were dragged into the mess your new friends had been in for the past few years. – The bored middle aged women who met up at the coffee shop every Wednesday afternoon just loved to talk about all the existent and non-existent relationships in this town and well, you loved to hear about all the gossip too, though you always acted like you were immersed in the books you had brought, you really never read a single line whenever they were providing each other new drama. 
On the drive to the Byers/Hopper house, you picked up Lucas before you made a quick stop at the store to buy a cake, none of you wanted to show up with empty hands and you didn’t know what else to get – besides the little bouquet of flowers that Lucas got for Joyce. 
As you look out the window, watching the passing trees, you listen to Eddie’s conversation with Lucas. 
“You ever wonder how Hopper explained his return from the dead?” Eddie asks as he plays with his sunglasses, “cause I’m really curious.” 
“I am too,” Lucas says from the backseat. 
“Do you think he went with the kidnapping story?” Eddie asks, his sunglasses low on his nose as he glances at you. “Imagine he told Chief Powell and Deputy Dumbass about the upside down.” 
“Don’t say that too loud, Eds. Or the suit wearing dicks will come back to take all our hush money back,” you snort. “And then you’ll lose your fancy house and your fancy BBQ grill.” 
He waves his hand at you, “I’ll take my fancy BBQ grill and move in with you. I’ll still have a fancy house, rich girl.”
You snort. 
“Oh, can I move in then too?” Lucas asks, grinning at you. “You always got the best snacks,” he points to the store bought cake on your lap. 
“Eddie and I chose the cake together,” you chuckle. 
“Well, duh, we’d make great roommates, sweets,” Eddie winks at you. “Same taste in food – but you still need to up your music taste.”
You scoff. 
“Honestly, I think a girls only place would be so much cooler,” Max says to him, “just peace all the time, no boys, no stinky clothes lying around… just pure girls heaven.”
Lucas frowns at her, tilting his head, “you say that to your boyfriend?” 
Eddie snorts at the offended tone in Lucas’s voice, while you shake your head in amusement. 
The burgundy BMW is already in the driveway when Eddie pulls up, he parks his car behind Steve’s. You inwardly curse at yourself for feeling a rush of something just from looking at his car. You tear your eyes away from it and take in the beautiful sight in front of you, instead. 
The light blue house has a big porch, flowers on the grass in front of it, a big willow tree on the right side – it’s so pretty and this neighborhood is a quiet one, it’s perfect. 
Lucas rings the doorbell, waiting patiently with the flowers in his hands that Max keeps teasing him about, giggling and making jabs at him until he finally gets fed up. He picks out one of the daisies and turns around to face his girlfriend, he brushes her hair back and tucks the little flower behind her hair, which shuts her up immediately, her eyes widen and she starts blushing furiously. 
You press your lips together, so you don’t burst into giggles at the look on her face. 
Lucas sighs in contentment when she grows silent, he turns back to the door. 
Eddie though, he starts chuckling. 
Max clenches her jaw, she sends Eddie the deadliest glare you have ever seen. It only makes you want to laugh even more. 
The door opens and you’re all greeted by a very happy El, a bright smile on her lips as she waves at you. 
“Hi guys, come in!” She reaches forward to Max, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the house, “I need to tell you something.” 
The two girls scurry away and up the stairs, leaving the three of you standing on the porch. 
Lucas shakes his head, sighing, “you know, I wouldn’t be surprised if Max left me to be with El.”
Eddie throws his arm around Lucas’s shoulder as they both step inside the house, “every girl has a girlfriend, just deal with it, Sinclair.”
“What?” You laugh, following them,“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Oh, it’ll happen magically, Sweetheart. Once you have a boyfriend, you’ll also find a girlfriend.” 
“That literally makes no sense.”
“Oh,” Lucas smirks, looking over his shoulder at you, “he means, once you and Steve stop acting like you hate each other and you’ll fall in love and get together, you won’t only have a boyfriend, you will also have a girlfriend which is his best friend,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. 
You roll your eyes and ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the word ‘boyfriend’. Steve will never be your boyfriend, he won’t even be anything close to it. Hell, he is barely even a friend. He is your frenemy. 
You open your mouth to speak when Joyce walks out into the hallway, smiling at the three of you before a gasp falls from her lips when Lucas hands her the flowers. 
“Oh, you’re such a sweetheart, Lucas,” she smiles down at the flowers. 
You feel a little out of place, being new to this group, being in a tight friend group for the first time in your life feels nerve wracking. And while you aren’t the only one, Eddie is definitely way more sociable and open than you are, where you struggle to make conversations, he rambles on just about anything. 
But Joyce makes you feel welcome, she greets you with a warm smile, placing her hand on your arm. 
“We got you your favorite,” Eddie grins at her, taking the cake from your hands so you can greet her properly. 
“Oh, you shouldn’t have! You’re all so kind,” she smiles at the both of you, “come on, I’ll put it in the fridge for now. You guys go ahead, Jonathan and Nancy are in the backyard with Hop, the kids are in the living room.”
When you step inside, you notice the smell of food from the kitchen and the dining room, the sound of music playing from the stereo – Joy Division. You know right away that Jonathan was the one who put on the music. 
You greet Mike, Will and Dustin who are in a heated conversation about something D&D related. 
Robin walks into the living room, her blue eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face. 
You eye her up and down, she’s wearing black dress pants, suspenders over her red blouse. Your lips curl into a smirk when your eyes meet hers. She opens her arms for you and you hug her, leaning closer to her ear, “if I was into girls, I’d be on the floor for you right now, Buckley,” you joke, suggestively. 
She gasps and slaps your arm lightly, “naughty.” 
A giggle falls from your lips when you pull away from the hug, “it’s the truth, you look hot in this outfit.” 
She shakes her head, biting her lip as she tries to hide the blush on her cheeks. 
“You’re one to talk,” she whispers, smirking when she takes a look at your dress, “how did Munson not crash the car?”
Your lips part in shock, and you look down, “i-is that too revealing?” You whisper, tugging at your dress.
She starts chuckling, “no, I just mean because you’re so gorgeous,” she winks. “I know I’d crash the car, I’d be too busy staring at you.”
“Oh my god,” you swat her arm this time, “Eddie and I are not attracted to each other.” And you’re certainly not lying about that.
“Robin, I see her the same way you see Steve,” Eddie suddenly says from behind you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Difference? I’m heterosexual,” he whispers to her before he looks at you, “no offense, it’s not that you’re not hot, it’s just that you’re a little gremlin to me already.”
Your eyes flash with amusement and you put your hand on your chest, “I will take offense to that actually.” 
Your stomach flutters when your eyes fall on the figure in the kitchen. 
“Sucks to be you then,” he chuckles, “anyways, how’s Vickie doing?” He wiggles his brows at Robin. 
You don’t even hear Eddie’s words, you’re already too far gone, staring at the one you had your eyes set on since forever. You don’t know how he always does it, but he looks so gorgeous. His fluffy hair looking better than ever, a smile lingering on his face as he talks to Joyce.
His white shirt is tucked into his dark brown slacks that he paired with a black belt. He looks like he walked straight out of a 60s movie and god, he looks really good. He turns his back to you, and you watch as Joyce leaves the kitchen, walking out into the backyard. 
You don’t feel your feet moving, but you feel yourself being pulled into the kitchen, still admiring Steve – his broad shoulders, the way his muscles are moving underneath the shirt. 
You are practically drooling over the guy, and you feel shame but not enough to stop yourself from ogling him, maybe you’d feel a bit more ashamed if things between you haven’t shifted into something else, you still get on each other’s nerves, the bickering is still there, poking into each other's ribs to see who bends first, but all that is never too much or hurtful. The scowls are there, they never left, the scrunches of noses, the deadly glares. But you noticed that the bickering had gone from yelling to soft talking. Enough for just the two of you to hear, no one else. 
It’s all still the same… but it also isn’t. 
And you can’t help but love it.
Steve is cutting vegetables and throwing them into the bowl. Your heart flutters as you take another moment to look at him. While the others are chatting in the living room and in the garden, Steve is helping Joyce prepare dinner. Cute.
You lick your lips, moving closer to him, you brush your hand over his shoulder as you walk past him, not even realizing how soft your touch actually was. 
Steve tenses up, not because he doesn’t like your touch – but because he does. He likes it, even if he would never admit it. He recognizes you by the sweet and flowery scent of your perfume, something that makes his insides tingle in an unfamiliar way.
“Hey, Lego head,” you greet him, leaning against the counter next to him, “nice mousse on the hair.”
A smirk tugs at his lips, he puts down the knife as he opens his mouth to speak, though when he turns to look at you, his breathing stutters, his heart stops beating and his eyes widen as the smirk slowly falls – instead, his cheeks heat up and he presses his lips back together, gulping as he takes in the sight of you in your beautiful dress. It’s not any different from the sundresses that you’ve been wearing a lot lately, but it would be enough to make him stutter if he tried to talk right now, because somehow, you look even more beautiful, right now.
You turn away from him, looking around at the food he had already helped prepare, giving him the perfect opportunity to ogle you. It’s a good thing he stopped cutting the fruit, and put the knife down before he saw you, he surely would’ve chopped a finger off by now, and he’s not sure if he would have noticed because, all that he is focused on is how pretty you look, with your glowy, smooth skin and the makeup that you don’t even need, the dress that almost has him on his knees. 
But he gets dragged back into reality when your eyes meet his and he remembers who you aren’t supposed to be – a girl who effortlessly manages to make him blush. No one has ever made Steve Harrington blush, absolutely no one, and he surely won’t let you be the first. 
“Blondie.”
“Do you think they’ll let us drink?” You ask, looking around as you try to spot anything but soda. 
Steve chuckles, shaking his head. 
“Are you twenty one yet? No. What makes you think that Hopper will let us drink?” He picks up the knife again, forcing his eyes away from you. 
“We fought monsters and had near death experiences multiple times,” you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, “will alcohol hurt us?”
“No, but it might turn you into an alcoholic, better not start with that, kid.” Hopper suddenly appears from behind, causing you to flinch. 
Steve watches from the side, laughing at the wide eyed look on your face. 
You turn to face the older man, scrunching up your nose when your eyes instantly fall on the beer in his hand, “oh, really? What’s that in your hand then, alcoholic?” You mock him. 
Hopper shakes his head, chuckling. 
“So that’s where El’s attitude has been coming from lately.”
“Told you, miss sunshine over here is a bad influence,” Steve jokes. 
“Don’t know which attitude you’re talking about, I don’t have one.” 
At that, both Steve and Hopper burst out laughing, the latter squeezes your shoulder as he walks past you, “you keep telling yourself that, kid.” 
“Well, aren’t we celebrating something today?” You ask. 
Hopper opens the fridge, taking out another beer after throwing the empty can into the trash. He looks at you with raised brows, a smile tugging at his lips. 
None of you know what this celebration even is about, that you all got invited to – except for El, Jonathan and Will, of course. They know all about it. 
“Yeah.”
“So… can’t celebrate without the drinks,” you shrug, giving him a sheepish smile. 
You’re unaware of the smile on Steve’s lips as he watches you. 
“You’re nineteen, wait two more years–”
“We fought interdimensional monsters, this one almost got strangled to death,” you point at Steve, “not to mention all the times he got his ass kicked–”
“You didn’t need to go there, Blondie,” he rolls his eyes. 
“I almost died! A girl can have a drink, come on!” 
Hopper sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks between the two of you. 
You are desperate for a drink, it’s been months since you had any alcohol in your system, and you’re craving the buzz, feeling careless and free. All you felt after the night at the Creel house was pain… and more pain. Your head was constantly hurting, your vision blurred every time you got up, the dizziness drove you crazy – it’s still there sometimes, but you feel better now, much better, good enough to have drinks again. 
But the stubborn man won’t let you have it and you can already tell by the look on his face that he will say no. So, you pull out the big guns.
You smirk at him, tilting your head. 
“My dad told me what you used to get up to in high school.”
He holds his hands up, squeezing his eyes shut in annoyance. 
“Didn’t you and Joyce used to smoke pot behind–”
Steve’s eyes widen as his lips part in surprise. 
“Get this demon a drink, Steve.” He waves his hand and quickly leaves the room, sending you another warning glance over his shoulder. 
“Why me…” Steve mutters.
“Cause you’re maid material, chop chop, Harrington.”
He sighs, rolling his eyes again. 
“Oh hey Hop, long time no see.” You hear Eddie’s voice in the living room, followed by Hopper’s groan. 
If you weren’t so fixated on Steve right now, you’d be watching Eddie’s and Hopper’s interaction, right now. It’s never not amusing. 
“You sure you want me to make you a drink?” He steps away from the counter and bends down to open the cabinet he saw Hopper putting the whiskey into earlier, he looks through the few bottles and reaches for the rum. 
You watch the way he furrows his brows, licking his lips as stares at the bottle. He straightens his back and steps up beside you again. 
“Well, didn’t you used to throw parties and mix cocktails?” You shrug, tilting your head to the side. 
Steve watches you, the way your flashes flutter as you blink, the way you look at him so innocently, something that makes him feel… intrigued. 
“I never got to taste it,” you pout. 
He swallows harshly.
“I’m craving something sweet on my lips right now, so please… Can you make me a drink?” You ask with a sickly sweet tone in your voice, not intending these words to sound so… suggestive and you don’t even notice it either. 
But he does, and he almost drops the bottle he is holding. Your flirty words make his eyes widen and his stomach flutters. It’s not the first time something like this happened, you threw suggestive words or glances at him before but all this time he was certain that you did this unintended – even now, because the look on your face is innocent, genuinely innocent. 
You aren’t teasing, you aren’t even aware of how flirty you can be sometimes.
He turns away from you, walking over to the fridge, he grabs the pineapple juice and puts it on the counter next to the bottle of rum. 
He looks up at the shelf, where all the long drink glasses are. How convenient it is that you’re standing right in front of it. 
While you do everything unintended, he doesn’t. He knows what he is doing when he steps towards you. He looks down at you with that same innocent look that you just gave him, the only difference is that he isn’t innocent. He places his hand on your waist, testing the waters. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, squeezing your waist ever so softly. He reaches over your shoulder as he grabs the glass, he keeps his eyes on you, biting back the smirk when he sees the way your eyes widen and you visibly gulp. 
Your lips part and you start blinking, looking up at him before your eyes fall to his chest and you squirm beneath his stare. 
Got you. He thinks. 
You stop breathing and your heart freaking jumps in your chest, his innocent touch is almost enough to make your knees buckle. 
Despite the nervousness, you look into his eyes, watching the way they twinkle with mischief. Bastard. Is he doing this on purpose? Because he somehow knows that every slightest touch from him drives you crazy? 
He takes way too long to get that stupid glass from the shelf but fuck, you can’t help but love the way his big hand feels on your body, or the way he is almost pressed against you, the way the smell of his cologne makes your stomach flutter.
And then, he steps away like nothing happened. 
Because it was nothing… to him. 
Even when there’s a hint of a smirk on his lips as he prepares the drink, you know that this was only because he wanted to get a reaction out of you.
“Here,” he slides the drink over to you, still smirking, “try it.” 
You wrap your hand around the cold glass and take the straw between your fingers, stirring the ice around, furrowing your brows, “what’s this called?” 
He crosses his arms over his chest, “the King Steve special,” he winks. 
You scrunch your face up at him.
Wrapping your lips around the straw, you look into his eyes as you try it, the sweetness from the pineapple juice definitely overpowers the taste of rum, and you don’t know if you like it or not. 
Steve ignores the way his stomach tingles from watching you – watching your glossy lips as they’re wrapped around the black straw. 
“Jesus, that really is a high school drink, King Steve.”
He squints his eyes at you, “it’s a fucking drink, Blondie.”
“A horrible one at that.”
He places his hand on his hip, rolling his eyes at your words, but a smirk tugs at his lips and he suddenly leans closer to you to whisper in your ear. 
“You really fooled me with that dress of yours… if only you kept your mouth shut.” 
He wants to stay and keep staring at the shocked look on your face, at the way you grow so flustered beneath his stare. The smirk that lingers on his lips grows even wider when he sees the way your lips part but close again. 
He left you speechless. 
He reaches for the bowl of salad, “gonna bring this out,” he says, tilting his head into the direction of the garden, “they set up the table outside.” 
You don’t even hear his words, you just stare at his lips before your eyes fall on the chain around his neck. You swallow and look down, hiding your flustered face as you take another sip of the drink. 
Steve holds back the chuckle, he turns away begrudgingly and walks out, he would’ve loved to see more of that look on your face. 
It takes you a moment to recover from whatever that was, you nearly down the King Steve Special in one go. And maybe preparing yourself a second drink is a mistake, knowing that you will probably feel more than just a slight buzz, you only had breakfast and you skipped lunch because you were too busy getting ready and stressing over your hair that never looks nearly as perfect as Steve’s does. 
You step out into the backyard, the table on the porch is already filled with food and drinks, the smell of the BBQ lingering in the air. Jonathan is standing in front of the grill with Nancy by his side, her chin on his shoulder, her arm wrapped around his waist, they’re talking and smiling at each other. 
As you watch them, the sudden realization that you will never have anything like they do, fills you with a slight sadness. 
You don’t envy them, you’re happy for them, you’re happy for anyone who gets to experience love. But maybe, you envy the love someone else still holds for her, someone you will never have. 
You look down, frowning at your drink. 
The teens all stumble out into the backyard as Joyce ushers them to the table. 
You flinch a little when you suddenly feel an arm around your shoulder, instantly recognizing Eddie’s cologne, you turn your head to look at him. 
“This could be us if you weren’t such a gremlin,” he says as he points to Jonathan and Nancy who are now kissing, in front of the sizzling meat that is probably now burning. 
You squint your eyes, shaking your head disapprovingly. 
You know he’s only joking, and it fills you with relief, because as much as you crave what they have, you definitely don’t crave it with Eddie. You crave to have this with Steve, and it’s something you feel stupid for. The guy may not hate your guts anymore, but he’s surely not your biggest fan either.  
“You know, you’re a gremlin too, Eds.”
“That’s why we’re best friends,” he chuckles, patting your shoulder as he looks down at the drink in your hand, “what’s that?”
“King Steve Special,” you snort, offering it to him, “well, this one was made by me.”
“Can I try?”
You hand it to him, and his curious eyes widen when he takes a sip, “wow, that is uh–”
“Too sweet?” 
He shakes his head at you, curls bouncing, “nah, it’s perfect.”
“Well, you can have it, I might get drunk if I finish that.”
“Already!?” He scoffs, shaking his head at you, “lightweight.”
"Uh, excuse me? I haven’t had any drinks in months, Eddie. Months.” 
“Well, I haven’t had any in weeks, I’m still standing.”
“You only took one sip!”
He takes another sip and grins at you, holding up two fingers. 
“Two sips.” 
You can’t even help but laugh, slapping his shoulder lightly, “you are so–”
“Funny? Handsome? Perfect?”
“Too cocky?” Lucas says behind Eddie, grinning at him. 
“Me and cocky?” Eddie raises his brows, “never.”
“Oh no, that kid is right, boy. You’re cocky,” Hopper sighs, “trust me.”
“Well, I am also very fast, Chief,” he smirks, winking at the older man, “but you already know that.”
Hopper’s amused face grows serious, a hardened look takes over and he grumbles something under his breath as he stares at Eddie. You can’t even help but giggle. – A sound that doesn’t go unheard by Steve who just sat down across from Robin, not even hiding the fact that he no longer listens to her rambling about some movie she watched with Vickie last night. All he can do, all he can see, all he can hear right now is you, just you. 
The sound of your giggles is not something he is used to – he is used to your grumbling, to your sarcastic chuckles and the smirks on your face. A giggle? A very unusual sound to hear but something that he’s been hearing quite often lately. If your friendship with Eddie wasn’t so obvious, he might’ve thought that you took a liking towards him, but it’s clear that your friendship with him is just like his with Robin; Platonic with a capital P. 
He can’t help but smile as he watches you, not because he likes you, god no. He just likes watching you. You are pretty, gorgeous even. He always knew that, even through his dislike, he always saw your beauty – he isn’t blind. And seeing you like this makes his chest feel… warm. 
He eyes your dress again, the lace on the straps lay so prettily on your shoulders, the silky material fitting your upper body so perfectly, it’s loose on your hips, and it’s short, not too short but enough to make him gulp. 
The chair scrapes against the floor, but even that sound doesn’t tear his attention away from you. 
Nancy steps up beside you, exchanging a few words with you and Eddie before she turns her head into Steve’s direction, she lifts her hand and points at him, something that instantly makes Steve tense up, because not only did Eddie catch him staring at you, you did too. 
With his cheeks blushing red, he clears his throat and turns back to Robin who is now rambling Dustin’s ear off. He places his elbow on the armrest, running his fingers through his hair nervously. 
What is wrong with him? Since when does he spend time staring at you? Since when does he blush because of you? 
“Here you can sit next to your favorite person, gremlin.”
He doesn’t know who he expected to sit down beside him, but he surely didn’t think it’d be you. He goes to lift his head when you pull back the chair. Just as he’s about to glance at you, he suddenly feels your hand on his knee and hears your groan as you stumble forward a little. 
“Almost broke my ankle, for fucks sake. I’m sorry, Lego head,” you mumble, inwardly cursing at yourself for tripping over the stupid leg chair and using him to steady yourself. You remove your hand when you finally sit down, turning away from him to hide the flustered look on your face. 
He blinks, swallowing the lump in his throat, he plasters a smirk on his face, “are you drunk from that one drink, Blondie?” He chuckles, watching the way you roll your eyes at his question. 
You feel a slight buzz, but you’re not sure whether it’s because of the alcohol or his ‘flirty’ comment that certainly had no meaning. 
Steve loves to flirt and he does it every chance he gets but he definitely wouldn’t flirt with you, no matter how desperate he’d be, you’d never be good enough for Steve Harrington. 
When everyone is finally seated and the rest of the food is now on the table, Hopper is standing up with a drink in his hand, waiting for the teen boys to stop talking so he can finally open his mouth to speak. He tries to be patient, he really tries. 
Joyce looks down in amusement. 
Jonathan waves at Dustin, trying to shut him up, but the boy doesn’t see, too focused on the conversation with Mike. 
“Mike,” El whispers, nudging him with her elbow. 
He looks away from Dustin, and turns to look at his girlfriend when his eyes find Hopper glaring at him with that very intimidating look on his face. 
His face grows pale and he slowly leans back in his seat, punching Dustin in the arm to shut up. 
Hopper clears his throat, he puts his hand on the back of his neck, squinting his eyes a little. It’s silent now, except for the faint music that still plays in the living room. His throat bobbed as he looked around the table. 
You can tell that he struggles to find his words, by the note that sticks out of the pocket in his flannel, you can tell that he had already prepared a speech. 
Joyce gives him an encouraging nod as she reaches for his hand. 
“I uh– I just, I thought that it would be a great idea for us all to sit down and uh… chat. I’m not good at all of this so I’ll just jump straight into it,” he starts, chuckling at his own words, before seriousness takes over his features again, “you kids went through a lot, you went through too much, every single one of you. But you were all so brave, you stuck together and defeated that… son of a bitch.” 
Giggles erupt around him and his lip twitches a little. 
“We defeated him,” El says, smiling at her dad, “we defeated that son of a bitch, “together.” 
“Language, kid,” Hopper chuckles but he shakes his head at her, “but yeah, together.” 
“The past few years haven’t been easy for any of you,” he continues, looking at all the young teens, at his daughter, at Jonathan and Nancy but also at Robin and Steve, and then he looks between you and Eddie too. “You all lost something or someone, you shouldn’t know what it’s like but uh, I guess in all of this chaos, you all found each other and I-I think that’s, that’s something, that means a lot.”
You can tell that he is struggling to say these words out loud, you hear the shakiness in his voice, the way he is holding himself together, the way he is speaking so softly because of how emotional he is after he spent the past few years in darkness after losing people he loved. 
El and Joyce stepped into his life and so much chaos followed when he was dragged into a mess he had only seen in movies before, but it also brought him so much light and happiness again. 
Just like it did for you and you wouldn’t change a thing about it. 
If you had to go back and relive all the awful things you had to endure those few weeks back, you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. Because, despite the horrors and the darkness you had been pulled into, you have found friends, a family. You found a best friend again, Eddie who sits across from you, smiling at you because he too, found a best friend in you. 
And you and Steve, you aren’t close by any means, but you are happy to have him in your life now, even if only like this. 
“And I, I found a family and my uh beautiful soon to be wife.” 
It takes a moment for the words to sink in. 
It takes another moment for everyone to lose their calmness. 
When the soft smiles vanish and the shocked and surprised looks take over your faces, Joyce and Hopper can’t help but laugh. 
“W-Wait what!?” Dustin shrieks, “you’re getting married!?” 
“Yep,” Hopper nods, smiling proudly. 
El is smiling excitedly, clapping her hands together, like she is relieved that it’s no longer a secret, “and I can’t wait for the wedding!” 
Nancy and Jonathan laugh at her excitement, while Dustin still looks between the older couple. 
You glance at Eddie, who is staring at Hopper like he wants to say something but he bites his tongue, not wanting to ruin the sweet moment with one of his jokes. 
“And we want you all to be there,” Hopper nods with a small smile on his face, “it wasn’t my idea to invite you all, just so you know.” 
Everyone laughs at his words and the fake grumpy look on his face, by now you all know that the former Chief isn’t as mean and cold as everyone always knew him to be. 
“It was his idea,” Joyce smiles, cheekily. 
“Of course it was, he loves us!” Dustin grins at Hopper.
“Well, congrats,” Robin smiles brightly, “I can’t believe you’re inviting a bunch of kids but hey, I’m excited!” 
Joyce gives her a warm smile, while Hopper grumbles something under his breath as he looks between Dustin and Mike. 
After all the congratulations go around, Hopper finally takes a seat, pointing at all the food on the table, including the few pieces of chicken that Jonathan had burned because he was too busy making out with Nancy, telling you all to finally ‘dig in’.
The conversations flow easily between everyone and it feels familiar despite being new to this circle. 
And while you and Steve don’t really talk to each other, you feel his eyes on you every once in a while. You feel his arm brushing against yours, his hands grazing your knuckles whenever he reaches for his drink – and every slightest touch shoots electricity through your veins and your heart beats a little faster every time his skin touches yours. 
You curse at yourself for feeling so weak for him, for almost crumbling after only these small and very innocent touches, for liking someone who spent most of his life hating you. 
You spend the rest of the night avoiding him, trying to lean away, trying to look at anyone but at him. And even then, you can still feel his eyes on you and it’s driving you crazy and you suddenly can’t wait to get away from him so you can finally breathe and stop feeling so delusional – his comment, his touches, his glances are all getting too much. If he was someone else, you would think that he was flirting but he is Steve Harrington for god's sake, and he would never flirt, not with you. 
You feel relief rushing through your whole body when hours later, Eddie announces that he is going home, you almost jump up and bolt towards the door but your best friend seems to have other plans. 
With his hands on your shoulder and an apologetic smile on his face, he opens his mouth, “Buckley is driving my car tonight, I wouldn’t want to put you in danger, sorry sweets, you’re with Harrington tonight. Don’t worry, you’ll be in good hands.” He winks and pinches your cheek before he scurries away.
Robin follows him, winking at you as she walks out with Eddie’s car keys, and the teens following her.
Max gives you a sheepish smile, mouthing a ‘sorry’ before she walks out, as well, leaving you standing in the hallway. 
What the hell. 
You have been waiting to get away from him, now you’re forced to drive home with Steve? No. Just the thought of being alone with him makes you feel nervous. 
You look around the empty hallway, you already said your goodbyes to everyone and no one will care how or who you went home with. You can just walk home… by yourself, and you won’t have to suffer through another car ride with Steve. 
But as you reach for the knob, the sound of keys jingling stops you from opening the door. You close your eyes, clenching your jaw. You don’t have to look to know who it is. 
“Running away from me?” Steve asks. 
You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes and the smirk on his face. Hazel eyes glowing beneath the dim lights. 
“Come on, Blondie,” he murmurs, eyeing you up and down as he steps up behind you, placing his hand over yours so he can open the door. 
His hand touches yours. His hand envelopes yours fully. His chest is almost pressed against your back. Your heart flutters and your knees almost buckle for real, this time. 
His lip twitches and he licks them as he looks down at you. 
You tear your eyes away from him when he opens the door. You quickly step out and breathe in the fresh night air, hoping that it will calm your racing heart.
“I-I didn’t know you’d be my ride tonight.”
Steve watches the way your dress sways as you walk down the porch steps. Fuck. He clears his throat, but feels unable to look away as he follows you. You don’t even look back at him, not until you’re standing next to his car and giving him a very annoyed look.
“Is that a problem for you?” 
“Maybe.”
He shakes his head with a chuckle as he unlocks his car. 
“Get your ass in the car, Blondie.” 
Steve doesn’t know what it is about you today, but everything you do, everything you say drives him crazy. That cheeky smile that you throw at him as you open the door, the way you tilt your head as you lick your upper lip before you say “yes, sir.” Has him clenching his jaw. 
He looks up into the night sky, taking a deep breath before he gets in the car. 
He tries not to look at you, but it’s hard not to when he for some reason feels some sort of electric pull towards you tonight. 
He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway without another word. 
Neither of you speak on the drive home but Steve can’t help but steal glances, while you are completely unaware of it, just like you’re unaware of how much your dress rode up, not enough to reveal too much but enough to make him sweat. 
Steve is under your spell tonight and you don’t even know it. 
The drive to your house is too short for his liking and unlike him, who seems to be eager to spend more time with you tonight, you seem like you can’t wait to jump out of the car and get away from him. 
You open the door, mumbling a ‘thanks for the ride.’ 
“You know, I really didn’t think that you could dress like that, Blondie.” He says, intending those words to sound… flirty.
A laugh falls from your lips because of how absurd this is. He didn’t think you looked cute, he probably thinks you dress too feminine for the attitude you have towards him, that’s all. This new kind of teasing is hurting you, but you can’t say anything about it to him, you can’t say that this hurts you, that it’s making you go insane. He would ask why, and you would have no excuse. You can’t face rejection, at least not right now… So you play along. 
“Careful, Lego head. You’ll give me the wrong idea and make me think that you have a crush on me or something,” you joke with words he said to you not too long ago. You throw a wink at him and shut the door before he can even open his mouth to say something. 
With his hand on the steering wheel and his eyes still stuck on you, he breathes heavily, his heart pounding and his cheeks burning as he slowly comes down from whatever high he had been on all day. 
He swallows harshly, but his heart fucking flutters when he can smell your perfume that still lingers. 
He watches you disappear into your house and shutting the door without giving him another glance or something. 
He slumps back in his seat, throwing his hand into his hair, he runs his fingers through it as all the events come rushing to him. 
The teasing, the touches, the… flirting. 
Steve is stunned by his own actions, by how he acted towards you today – something that you were very unaware of, something that he is now glad about… Yet, he can’t help but feel a little disappointed that you didn’t notice the teasing.
He doesn’t even know where it all came from but he blames it on his desperation to feel something again, something that he had been craving for so long. 
He was guided by lust, not by interest. 
Because in no way, would he ever be interested in you. 
All he saw today was a pretty girl in a pretty dress, it didn’t matter that it was you. He just needed to feel something, and he did… by teasing you. 
But it’s something that will never happen again. 
He swears, it will never happen again. 
tagging friends and mutuals
@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munsonlore @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @ibellcipem
I'm sorry if I forgot anyone again (I'm the worst at taglists)
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Text
Seven
Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader
Rating: Gen (kind of a crack fic if you ask me)
Summary: You and Javi discuss children
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“How many?”
“Hmm?”
“You keep saying children plural. How many do you want?” You asked, flipping through the pages of the magazine idly. You weren’t even reading, just looking at pictures and reading a gossipy headline about some of the other actress.
“Hmmm seven?”
“Fuck no!”
“Why not?”
“Why not? WHY NOT?” You asked, horrified. “Javier, I’m a human being, not a baby making machine. You have a government job and I’m just a lab tech. We will never have 7 kids money unless you pocket some of the cocaine you seize. God, can you imagine if they all wanted to go to law school? Or medical school?”
“I wasn’t thinking that far ahead,” he said, taking the magazine from you and setting it aside. He pulled you into his lap, kissing you neck from behind and making you squirm. “I was focused on how hot you’ll look pregnant.”
“Of course you were. Horndog,” you scolded, pinching the arm that held you close. He hissed, but didn’t loosen his hold, only pulling you in closer.
“Can you blame me? With such a hot girlfriend, a man is bound to let his imagination run wild.”
“Shut up.”
“Five?” He asked, making you angrier.
“Are you trying to have a family or form a basketball team?”
He laughed before kissing her lips. “Four?” He bargained.
“Three is the absolute maximum for me.”
“Then three is good.”
“Yeah?” You asked, softer when you heard the sincerity in the reply that came with no hesitation.
“Mhmm.”
“But everything is up for debate after the first one,” you added, just in case. Pregnancy did not look fun and you didn’t want him holding you to this if you were too fucked up from the first pregnancy to try again. “I might hate being pregnant and never want to have another one again. We might have to be satisfied with one baby.”
“That’s good too, baby. I only want as many children as you’ll give me. Whether that’s one or three or seven.”
“Definitely not seven.” You smiled, adjusting yourself to sit back on the sofa with just your legs in his lap. “And no bargaining on gender either. If we have three daughters, you can’t ask for another one just to try for a son.”
“I would love three daughters. Why do you think I’ll ask you for a fourth one after that?”
“I don’t know,” you said, shrugging. “Men usually want sons. To teach them soccer or go fishing or whatever.”
“I’ll teach our three daughters soccer. Girls have legs. And I don’t care for fishing anyway. If they want to be with animals, they can take care of the ranch.”
“God, I planning my life out with a ranchero who wants a million kids!” You said, laughing.
“You’re just realizing that?”
“Oh god, I don’t know what’s worse— ranchero or DEA agent. Do you like chop wood shirtless or something? Cause I can’t handle that. I will end up having 7 kids if I saw that.”
“You’re mixing up rancheros with lumberjacks, baby. But I’ll learn to chop wood if you want. And I’ll teach our daughters to chop wood too. And how to shoot. And how to fix a car. Teach them plumbing and everything. So that they don’t have to call their boyfriends at midnight to ask them to fix their sink,” he said, making you giggle at the recollection of that night.
“Oh please, you weren’t complaining,” you scoffed, reminding him of the night he came over to fix your sink and ended up staying all night and all day in your bed.
“Exactly. No boy is slithering into my daughter’s bed like that. I won’t allow it.”
You scoffed. Oh you poor little fool… “You think my father didn’t teach me how to fix my sink, Javier? That I didn’t break it just to invite you over?”
“Fuck!”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck. Let’s have three sons.”
.
.
.
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verysium · 3 months
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some hcs abt the bllk boys doing modeling shoots as pro-players? (like what they’d model for and the ways they captivate their audiences and stuff)? ty and love ur works btw 💞💞🫡
idk why but this ask made my brain freeze up and refuse to write anything for 3 days, so apologies if this is late anon:
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sae would be so done. i mean....he walked out on a literal interview, so what makes you think he won't walk out on a photoshoot? he probably hates the very idea of plastering his face all over billboards and magazines. but his manager said that he was in desperate need of good publicity, especially after that stunt he pulled with the last commercial endorsement. if sae was forced to model though, he'd definitely be as stiff as a board. no facial expressions whatsoever and always sticks to one pose. oftentimes, this involves him facing the wall and only showing half his face. if the photographer wants a full frontal, he's going to have to deal with sae's "i don't want to be here and i'm being held hostage" face. even if sae does try smiling, it looks more like a grimace. the only redeeming quality here is that he is good-looking. if you look at the official art, he doesn't even have to try to get all of you drooling over him. that face card does not decline. like ever. so the shoots usually wrap up pretty quickly because out of the 100 images taken, at least half are going to be usable. he's photogenic from any angle.
kaiser would strike a pose for everything, even his own mugshot. i picture him as that one johnny depp advertisement for dior sauvage. blue lighting. a silk blouse with the top button open to show off a sliver of his sculpted chest. his hair is slicked back with gel, and his knuckles are decorated with silver rings. the tattoo just pulls everything together. if not a perfume commercial, then i think he'd model for adidas or some other german brand (maybe even a beer company if he's old enough). i don't think he has any trouble with the actual modeling part of process. he knows how to flaunt himself. the only issue is that kaiser is a lazy perfectionist. he would show up late to the shoots and then stays even later just looking through the shots and choosing which ones to include. puts a lot of time and effort into things like this. after all, his image and his brand are important to him.
shidou would be sponsored by an energy drink brand. like red bull or monster. if not that, then axe body spray lol. as for modeling, i feel like he wouldn't be able to sit still. probably pulls out crazy poses that piss the photographers off on purpose. it always cracks me up how one of his first appearances in the manga is him being muzzled and restrained in a straitjacket inside blue lock's time-out zone. he's so chaotic. you would have to hold him down and shove the camera into his face to actually get a good shot. i also picture him wearing lots of black leather, maybe even silver jewelry (eg. studs, piercings). and of course, you can't forget the hot pink accents.
isagi would model for family-friendly brands. if not that, then just japanese brands in general. i imagine him doing skincare commercials for shiseido or maybe even participating in a campaign for UNIQLO. as for modeling, he would be awkward at first but then gradually get the hang of it. always thanks the team afterwards and is very mindful of the photographer's suggestions. everyone says he is a pleasure to work with.
rin would model for luxury watch brands like TAG heuer or IWC. maybe when he grows older and further develops his career, he might even become an ambassador for louis vuitton or bulgari. overall, his advertisements are very elegant and professional. only endorses high quality products. never looks at the shots afterwards because he hates looking at his own face. gets somewhat embarrassed when his mama points out his billboards and makes clippings of his magazine covers. he absolutely flipped when a brand suggested that he do a collaboration with his brother. so when this collaboration actually did take place, it was like a repeat of the whole messi-ronaldo photoshoot. they didn't actually meet on set. they were just photoshopped together into the same frame.
barou models for calvin klein. lots of denim and shirtless photos. all of the staff got nosebleeds, and his fanbase went wild when the issue was finally released. there's this one image his fans worship religiously where he's posing in his boxers and there's a clear shot of his abs and happy trail. (he's so hot wtf) there's also another shot that wasn't used cus a million people would've been deceased. he's standing there with his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans and wearing nothing underneath his denim jacket. his hair is also down, and his skin is all sun-kissed and golden.
reo models streetwear, and this is canon because he has the drip. honestly, his duality needs to be studied because he can go from high class gentleman to bad boy who wears chains and knuckle rings. he'd try all different sorts of styles, and he'd look good doing it. out of all the bllk boys, i feel like reo gets the most sponsorship deals because of his versatility. he does the styling, hair, makeup, posing, editing, etc. honestly, they need to hire him as a creative director already. nagi would tag along behind the scenes, but he'd end up scrolling on his phone the entire day.
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darling-i-read-it · 1 year
Text
Stu w/ a hyperfemine reader
Stu Macher x reader
Author's Note: I'm trying a newwwww style <3 I think that having stuff like this being a mix of headcanons and scenes! mini fics and such. lemme know what you guys think and I hope you like it love! Thanks for being my guinea pig lol
Request: i’m hyperfixating on scream cuz 6 just came out and your list says you write for it so can i plz request stu macher x hyperfeminine!reader fluff like they’re kinda opposites attract type thing idk lol 😊😊
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Meeting Stu in the typically girly girl attire with that perky smile on your face was like sending him straight over the moon
He watched you, eyeing you up and down, curious and over telling
You weren’t even talking to him but it was like you were there for him. Or maybe he was just being obsessive. He was probably just being obsessive. 
Stu was the kind of guy who dated someone for fun, because he knew that it worked within a friend group or because of sheer popularity. It was usually never because he loved them. 
Though lets be fair. The first time he saw you he was not thinking about love. There was something so dear to him about your eyes lighting up as you cheeirly moved about the friend group
You seemed to be a friend of Sidney’s, which worked well in his favor. After things ended the summer before with Tatum Sidney had all but forgiven him for their little fling
Maybe, if Stu tried hard enough…Sidney could give him the number of her friend. You. He wants your number. He should probably ask Billy who could probably ask Stu. 
Lots going on in his brain <3 so much <3 
Him getting you alone for the first time is such a fun little time it’s so good
His smile widened as he approached you. Now that Sidney and Billy had left he could talk to you by himself, without her getting in the way. You were sitting on a fountain near the school, still smiling from the goodbyes you had given to your friend. He scooted closer to you. 
“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” he said, nudging your side. You rolled your eyes. You knew of him. Sidney had told you plenty. Though his eyes were alluring and you were all too happy to oblige that look. 
“I think you have,” you promised. 
“I would’ve remembered.”
“I’ve been Sidney’s friend forever.” 
“Well I’ve been Billy’s friend forever. Not Sidney’s,” he explained. You narrowed your eyes at him, a smile on your face. He pointed at the skirt you were wearing, a fluff of pink at the bottom. “That’s pretty.” 
You noted that he said pretty. He didn’t say cute or girly. You smiled gratefully. 
“Thank you Stu. I like to flaunt my femininity.”
“I love flaunting femininity.”
Dating Stu is like…there’s always gonna be someone touching you. Even when you think he isn’t in the room BOOM there’s Stu and his hands on your sides
He loves everything about the hyperfemininity. He would play into it as much as you let him. He would buy you things you desired (while also being fully aware he’s being a bit of a dick when he points it out) 
He probably makes awful jokes about your femininity linking to your ‘natural woman desires’ 
He made one joke about cooking and cleaning and you hit him with your bag. 
He was very offended. He also didn’t really wanna mention it again (so he didn’t thank goodness) 
Sidney didn’t particularly like that you were together but she didn’t hate it either
She thought your energies matched rather well (she was unaware that Stu Macher could kill someone in cold blood)
But the high intensity of Stu always needed someone who could tame it or feed into it
He found that he adored your very natural brightness
“Hey Stu?” He had his hand on your thigh but he wasn’t paying attention to you until you spoke. 
“Yeah sweetheart?” You sat on your bed, watching some scary movie he had showed you. You had no quarrels with it but you weren’t truly watching it. He always seemed enthralled and you could usually flip through a magazine unbothered but still together, a quiet understanding. 
“Are you aware that you’re cuddling my little piggy?” He squinted, not sure what kind of joke you were making until he noticed he was cuddling your actual stuff pig. It was fluffy and large enough to be a pillow. 
He didn’t move away when he noticed. In fact, he pulled it closer to his chest with his arm that wasn’t on you. 
“Not your piggy anymore.”
“Stu!” You reached forward to grab it but he pulled away, now clutching it with boht hands. You giggled. You attempted to reach around him but with laughter he fought you off. You giggled together until you were laying on top of him, the pig between you. 
He made a pouty face at you. 
It usually caused the both of you to be the life of the party
Billy thinks it’s rather annoying. Double annoying for the plans that he has for Stu and him 
Whenever Stu was with you it was like it never mattered, what Billy had planned
Well he still wanted to kill someone
But that was beside the point. He wanted to hang out with you and live his life with you. He didn’t quite know what he would be without that. 
You caught glimpses of that sometimes, when his face drifted off or when a joke Billy made landed a little wrong
But he never made it seem too overt
He was always more willing to talk to you about other things. Compliment your outfits, exist within the constraints of your room or his
It was actually really sweet <3 
Always the boyfriend (even if he’s the boyfriend who always has a stupid reason to kill his gf i guess!)
“Sweetheart. You’re a sweetheart.” 
“Thanks Stu.”
“You are. You’re my sweetheart.” 
“Oh Stu.” 
He looked down at you, poking your nose, smiling brightly, eyes narrowed in adoration. 
“You look really good in pink.”
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babydollmarauders · 1 year
Text
PARIS — NICO HISCHIER
part of the Midnights Fic List
summary: in which y/n is so in love with Nico, that she doesn’t care about any of the gossip her friends tell her about her exes.
specific lyrics: “your ex-friend's sister met someone at a club and he kissed her. turns out it was that guy you hooked up with ages ago; some wannabe z-lister. and all the outfits were terrible. 2003 unbearable. did you see the photos? no, i didn't, but thanks, though.” and “i’m so in love that i might stop breathing.” and “privacy sign on the door, and on my page, and on the whole world. romance is not dead if you keep it just yours.” and “i wanna brainwash you, into loving me forever. i wanna transport you, to somewhere the culture's clever. confess my truth, in swooping, sloping, cursive letters.”
notes: this was originally a lot longer, but tumblr hates me and deleted over half of it. so if the second half is worse than the first, then i apologize; i was trying to rewrite from memory and i know there are some parts that i couldn’t remember for certain.
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“did you hear that John got engaged?”
i peek up from my spot on the floor, glancing over to Ella who sits in the armchair across the room. Tara and Naomi are sat together on the couch, wide eyes and excited smiles.
“no.” i shake my head, my lips flattening in a straight line as i continue flipping through the magazine in my hands.
“yeah, he got engaged last week. but the kicker?” Naomi speaks this time, pausing for dramatic effect. “Ella heard from Carrie, who heard from the fiancée’s sister, that the girl is two months pregnant. it’s a shotgun wedding.”
“and she’s forty-one compared to his twenty-eight!” Tara pipes up. i glance up again, offering a furrowed brow and an uninterested nod. why were they telling me these things?
“cool. i mean, we’re adults, age doesn’t really matter anymore.” i shrug, and now it’s their turn to look at me like i’m crazy. our exes are usually our favorite topic for gossip, but that was before i met Nico eight months ago. now it’s typically been gossip about their exes. “besides, maybe they are getting married because she’s pregnant, but they could end up being really in love.”
“but- this is juicy?” Naomi says, her face scrunched in confusion. Ella and Tara nod along with her, clearly confused by my disinterest. i shrug once more, my focus falling back down to the magazine that rests in my lap now.
“John just isn’t part of my life anymore. i don’t really care what happens with him. i wish him the best in his marriage and fatherhood, though.”
“the best?” Ella balks, jaw hung open in surprise. “the man who cheated on you with three other women? you wish him the best?”
“i’m over it. did it hurt at the time? yeah. but, i’m happy now. if he hadn’t cheated on me, i wouldn’t’ve found my way to Nico, so it worked out in my favor.” i confess my feelings, and the girls all share a look, raising their brows in suspicion.
“that’s actually really mature of you, y/n/n. i’m proud of you.” Tara tells me, the other two nodding in agreement.
“what can i say? Nico’s been good for me.” i laugh, and they all giggle before returning to their own magazines.
**
“does it ever bother you that we’re not public?” Nico’s voice breaks me out of my trance. my hands, which were previously rubbing cleanser on my cheeks in circles, freeze and i look at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. he stands in the doorway, frowning down at his phone, leaning against the frame.
“no, why?” i ask. “does it bother you?”
“well, no. it was my idea.” he sighs, slipping his phone on the counter and making his way over to me, entangling his arms around my waist as i continue washing my face. “but, i don’t know. i just saw Shara’s post with Darya and i wondered if maybe it upsets you. i know girls like to be posted and admired, and i feel bad that i don’t do that.”
i finish washing the cleanser off my face, patting dry with a towel, before i twist around in his arms. placing my hands on his bare chest, i give him a soft smile.
“Neeks, i don’t need to be posted in order to feel admired. you make me feel that way every day just from your simple actions. i mean, just yesterday, you went for a run and came back with a bouquet of flowers. last week, you surprised me with a movie night and homemade pizza, when you could’ve very well spent that night sleeping early considering you were leaving the next day for a quick roadie.”
“but-” i press a finger against his lips, signaling for him to be quiet.
“i don’t need to be posted because i like our privacy. besides, the important people know. our friends, our family, they’re the only people we care about knowing, the entire world doesn’t have to know in order for our relationship to be real. if anything, i think it’s kept the romance alive because we’re living in the moment. we’re not taking our phones out to get pictures of our special moments; it’s just us enjoying our time together. i love you, and i know you love me. i don’t need us to be public in order to feel loved by you, because you make sure i’m aware of it every day.”
“ich liebe dich von ganzem Herzen.” he slots his lips between mine, soft and sweet, tasting like his mint toothpaste. we part, and i smile up at him.
“i only caught that first part, but i love you too. so much.” i step out of his grasp to walk back into his bedroom, glancing behind me to see him following me. slipping into bed, he copies me, turning his bedside light off and slinging an arm around my waist, pulling me into him so that we press against each other. my eyes fall closed, and i’m on the verge of sleep when i hear him mumble.
“ich möchte dich eines Tages heiraten.”
**
i’m spread across the couch at Naomi’s house this time, Ella sitting with my feet in her lap, Tara in one armchair, and Naomi in another.
Ella paints my toenails as Naomi and Tara gossip back and forth and i lay with my eyes closed, just listening.
“y/n.” i pry open my eyes to look over at Tara, humming inquisitively. “did you hear?”
“hear what?” i ask.
“your ex-friend, Gianna? her sister, Izzy, met someone at a club and he kissed her.” she tells me. my brows form a ‘v’ as i nod in understanding.
“okay?”
“turns out it was that guy you hooked up with ages ago; some wannabe z-lister.” Naomi chimes in. “remember him?”
“umm, vaguely, i think. Jake something or other. right?” i peek down at Ella, who stopped doing my toes in order to listen more intently.
“mhm!” Naomi hums before huffing out a harsh laugh. “and all the outfits were terrible.”
“like, 2003 unbearable.” Tara laughs. “did you see the photos?”
“no, i didn't, but thanks, though.” i tell her, shaking my head.
“do you wanna see them?” Naomi asks, tapping on her phone a couple times before i offering it to me.
“no, thanks.” i scrunch up my nose, shrugging.
“oh. okay…”
“i do!” Ella exclaims, swapping the nail polish in her hand for Naomi’s phone. “oh god!”
“it’s horrible! right?” Tara laughs, but i just frown, sitting up on the couch. “he’s wearing a camo thermal shirt under a polo! like dude!”
“guys, that’s mean.” i scold.
“it’s not mean, it’s the truth. if you saw the pictures, you would understand.” Ella giggles, offering me the phone once more. i push it away, shaking my head.
“i don’t care about what happens between Jake or Izzy.” i tell them. Ella shrugs, handing the phone back to Naomi and going back to painting my nails.
“you seriously don’t care?” Tara asks and i shake my head.
“not really. i’m at a good point in my life, Nico makes me really happy. i don’t care what my exes or almost exes are up to.” i admit. “i don’t mind all the other gossiping we do, i love gossip, but i really don’t care for hearing about my exes. it doesn’t affect me in any way, so why do i need to know about it? if they’re happy, then good for them.”
“who are you and what have you done with y/n?” Ella jokes, making us all giggle.
“i really love Nico. he makes me happy, which in turn, makes me content with what happened in the past. i don’t need to hear about the bad karma that’s hitting my exes, because i just don’t care about them anymore.” a soft smile spreads across my face at the thought of my boyfriend.
“i love Nico for you. this relationship is so healthy and i can tell how good he is for you.” Naomi tells me, her voice gentle and happy, a grin on her lips.
**
i stare down at the piece of card stock in my hands, tracing my cursive with my eyes.
‘kick ass tonight, captain!
p.s. i wanna love you forever
lovingly yours, y/n’
smiling in content, i tuck the note into one of Nico’s skates in his duffle bag for him to find later. a tradition i’ve come to look forward to, it started about two months into our relationship, when i slipped a note into the tupperware holding his pregame snack. when he got home after their win that night, he told me he looked at it during both intermissions. that was the night we said ‘i love you’ for the first time. so now before every home game, i write him a note and stick it somewhere in his things, in order for him to find it before the game, to give him a boost of confidence.
“darling, have you seen my keys?” Nico’s voice carries in from the living room, and i swipe his keys off the counter before padding to the entryway of the living room to find him digging in between the couch cushions.
“right here, love.” i smile, watching his head snap up and his sight lock on the car keys dangling from my fingers. he lets out a sigh of relief, making his way over to me.
“what would i do without you?” the question is rhetorical, but i can’t help but jokingly answer.
“walk.” i shrug. chuckling, he nabs the keys out of my hand whilst simultaneously planting a gentle kiss to my forehead.
“will you be here when i get back?” he asks, raising a hand to gingerly cup my jaw. i nuzzle deeper into his touch, nodding.
“of course.” i tell him before joking again- “i don’t have ESPN+, so i have to use yours on your tv to watch the game.”
he chuckles again, leaning down to press a quick but sweet kiss to my lips before bidding me goodbye. i wish him a good luck, watching as he leaves for his game.
**
“where’d it go?” i wonder aloud, scouring the bathroom countertop for my chapstick. Nico always puts it back after he borrows it, knowing it’s part of my nightly routine, but he must’ve forgotten today.
leaving the bathroom, i go back to his bedroom, scanning the top of his dresser for the lip product but coming up empty handed. i let out a deep sigh, moving on to his nightstand. not spotting it on the top, i open the drawer. but my brows furrow when i get the drawer ajar, only to find it empty other than a stack of cardstock. pulling one out, i flip it over in my hands, my eyes softening when i read the words swooped across the paper.
i pull out the stack, shuffling through them. my eyes prick with tears at the realization. my notes. i never knew what he did with them after the games, but i guess i assumed he just threw them away. but i was wrong, because they’re all here. all accounted for, dating back to the very first one. kept safe in his bedside drawer. tears slide down my cheeks, my heart pounding in my chest at the sweet gesture.
i place them all back in the drawer, swiping at my face to dry it, and giving up on my chapstick.
laid in bed, a book is gripped in my hands as i await Nico’s return after his big win. i perk up at the sound of the front door opening and shutting, placing my bookmark in and closing my book as Nico opens the bedroom door.
“hi, superstar!” i cheer, dropping my book onto the nightstand. a bashful grin spreads across his face as he drops his bag on the floor by the end of the bed. i shuffle on the bed, sitting up on my knees, facing the edge of the mattress. “two goals and an assist, and first star of the night. i’m so proud of you!”
“thank you, love.” he steps in front of me, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against him, chest to chest. “did you see what i did after them?”
heat rises to my face as i think back to what he did after both goals. the gesture that he told me long ago meant he was dedicating those goals to me; a quick tap to his lips.
“i did. thank you, baby.” wrapping my arms around his neck, i crane my own, settling a gentle kiss onto his lips. parting, he lays his forehead on mine.
“i want to love you forever.” he tells me, making me giggle.
“using my own words on me?” i question, switching to bury my head in his neck. his hand rubs up and down my back as we hug in silence for a moment.
“i think that may have been my favorite note so far.” he admits, whispering in my ear.
“yeah?” i pull back to look at his big brown eyes, my favorite color for the past eight months. he hums an agreement.
“i’m so in love with you. sometimes, it feels like i might stop breathing.”
“you are the best thing that’s ever happened in my life.” i confess. “i love you. so much.”
“is it too early to ask you to marry me?” he questions. a joke, i assume, and i let out an airy laugh.
“maybe a little bit.” i tell him. “but how about we compromise?”
“and just how do we compromise?” he asks.
“how would you feel about me moving in with you?” a wide grins spread across his face at my words, happily nodding.
“i would love that.”
-
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itsplumwriter · 7 months
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Baking for Bucky
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POV: While browsing a small collector’s shop, Bucky finds a vintage WWII magazine from the 40s. He flips through the pages and spots a dessert recipe, asking if you could make it for him.
A/N: Just some fluffsss. I haven't written a fluffy piece in a while so I really hope you'll like this. I love baking, do y'all? It's such a comfort activity and I think it'd be so cute to bake for Bucky.
--- --- ---
“What are we making again?” you ask, pulling out the flour and sugar.
“Gingerbread. It’s a classic from the 40s,” Bucky says, flipping through the old-timey magazine. “Housewives used to pack it in their husband’s box lunches back in the day.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Housewife? I am a housewife now?”
He lowers the magazine, glancing at you. “You can be..."
You nearly trip trying to get the bowl. “Slow your roll, soldier...”
He chuckles as he helps you pull out the rest of the ingredients. You love him, obviously, and you could definitely see yourself marrying him. But you’re both enjoying the dating phase and there’s no need to rush things.
You add the ingredients to the bowl and stir it's contents carefully, noticing a concerned look on Bucky's face. "What's going on in that head of yours?"
Bucky smiles, enjoying the fact you know him so well. "The smell is just bringing me back... Usually sights, sounds, and smells bring me back to bad memories from my past, so it's kinda nice to have a smell trigger a good memory for once."
You smile and nod, hoping he'll say more; Bucky rarely opens up. When he does, you find it best to just keep quiet and let it flow naturally.
"I kinda miss the old days, you know?..." he continues. "Sometimes I hate that I was frozen for so long. That so many years were taken from me. Sometimes I wish I could have lived in the era I was supposed to.”
“I can understand that,” you say, nodding.
He approaches you, hugging you. “But the thing is if I hadn’t been frozen... I never would’ve met you."
He buries his head in the crook of your neck. "And that sorta makes it all worth it."
“Bucky,” you sigh. His words are sweet, but they make you upset. "I don't want you to say anything was worth what you went through..."
Bucky takes your hand, kissing your palm. “I mean it. And I meant it when I said I want you to be my wife...”
You smile. "Let's see how this gingerbread turns out first. You may change your mind..."
Bucky chuckles, rolling his eyes.
--- --- ---
The entire house is filled with the smell of gingerbread. A warm feeling enrobes the air, reminding you of Christmastime. You both curl up on the couch, eating a few slices with milk.
"You're clearly wifey material," Bucky chimes.
You raise an eyebrow. "Where did you hear that term..."
Bucky stares at you. "Sam."
You chuckle, shaking your head.
"No, but seriously... This has got to be one of the best desserts I've ever had."
You roll your eyes. "...Don't exaggerate, Bucky."
“I'm not! It's the loveliest thing I've ever tasted because the loveliest person made it for me."
You fiddle with a few gingerbread crumbs on your plate, blushing.
Bucky smiles to himself. "I remember one of my buddies used to have these all the time in his box lunch. He’d brag all the time to us that his wife made it for him... I can’t believe I had to wait nearly 90 years for my wife to make me some...”
You clench your jaw. “But I'm not your wife, Buckyy... I love you and I can see myself spending the rest of my life with you. But I don't think I'm ready just yet."
He gives you a soft smile. “No rush, doll... I believe I waited my whole life to meet you... It'd be an honor for me to wait a little longer..."
--- --- ---
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hallowedmistress · 8 days
Text
stardew sexuality hcs!
bachelors + bachelorettes
alex
definitely gay
grew up in a homophobic, religious family
first time he saw gay people was on tv on a news program about same-sex marriage being legalised
george immediately turned it off in disdain and evelyn distracted him with some food, but the thought lingered at the back of his mind
as he grows up, he collects sports magazines. more often with lean, muscular men on the covers than not
he suppresses it for years but it comes to a head when the cute new farmer moves in
and the rest is history
elliott
homoflexible
knew he was into men since he was very young
his family wasn't pleased to say the least. their only son, gay and a writer? the blasphemy.
didn't dare confess to any of his childhood crushes because he grew up in a pretty old fashioned area
instead wrote letters and stuffed them into used cans and threw them into the sea
lived in zuzu city for a short while before moving to stardew valley, had a relatively unhealthy lifestyle of drinking and hookups and no sleep. the cabin on the beach helped with his insomnia
very rarely attracted to women; usually into the type of women who mistake him for a lesbian
sam
unlabelled
leans more towards men
vincent called him weird at first but wrapped his head around it pretty quick
jodi doesn't talk about it but she just wants him to be happy and not hide any part of himself
kent absolutely flips when sam brings the farmer, his boyfriend, over
they make it work. kent warms up to the farmer, and the strict military rules drilled into his head slowly come undone
he reluctantly tells sebastian he likes guys at the saloon one night while abigail isn't around. sebastian just says 'huh', and beats him at pool.
sebastian
queer, on the aromantic spectrum
never really thought about romance. he has enough to deal with by himself, why should he want someone else?
has a little crush on sam when they're kids
only realises it was romantic when sam tells him that he likes guys. and sebastian realises oh, i can do that.
he doesn't really tell anyone but he blurts it out to his mother one afternoon
robin is supportive, and curious at first
demetrius... doesn't say much.
after kissing sam for a dare, he huddles inside a blanket with a red face for a whole day
harvey
heteroflexible
he likes women, but likes the occasional buff man
he's vocal with his support of the community, and pins up a pride flag on the clinic's wall
he lost a trans girlfriend to suicide back in the city. it sticks with him, and he makes sure to respectfully inquire about all his patients' mental health and if they need anything
he likes the farmer for their cool, confident demeanor regardless of their gender.
shane
straight
never thought about his sexuality
kissed a few of his homies back in college before he dropped out
hasn't really "fallen" for anyone before the farmer
abigail
bisexual
this girl is so, so bi
she definitely read manga on sites named stuff like yaoiparadiseheaven growing up
always shipped the protagonist and rival in pokemon games
has a few bi pride pins. pierre hates it and wants her to tone it down, but she refuses. loud and proud
caroline chides her, but is secretly proud of her and even buys her some sapphic movie dvds
haley
lesbian
it's complicated. she knows she has some sort of comphet, and she hates it
she wants to be out to the whole town just to prove a point, but she wants to present as straight at the same time just to feel more accepted
she flirts with guys and then feels like throwing up
she tries to flirt with girls and ends up insulting them
she and abigail have some sort of sapphic jealousy thing going on
when the farmer comes to town, abigail knows she's head-over-heels for the butch immediately despite her previous insistence that she only likes femme women
leah
definitely a lesbian
chill about it. she doesn't tell anyone, but she doesn't hide it
she has a vase painted the lesbian colours
her ex from the city is non-binary
she doesn't expect to fall for the farmer at all, but ends up yearning for months
boldly sculpts a messy piece of two women kissing
she and male!farmer would talk about women together
penny
her labels keep changing
she's into women, and into pretty guys.
she used to always keep an eye out for the woman who worked the jojamart counter
pam catches her reading a lesbian romance once, and penny fears the worst
instead, pam just nods and mentions she went out with some women herself and penny just stops in her tracks wide-eyed
when she first meets the farmer, she can't stop blushing around them
maru
she never really fathomed being attracted to men in the first and doesn't get why demetrius is so against her having male friends
demetrius is obnoxiously supportive once he finds out. the farmer sighs every time they walk in on an overly large display of support
he celebrates her coming-out anniversary every year
lesbian in stem
she's also on the asexual spectrum. something like demisexual, maybe. she doesn't have it figured out yet
emily
pansexual, and open about it
every time someone asks if she has a boyfriend, she corrects them to 'significant other'.
romance doesn't work like 'normal' to her
every friendship has a little romance, and every romance has a lot of friendship. isn't that the best way to live?
she's very affectionate. with friends, family, s/o's, anyone.
72 notes · View notes
pxrxcxa · 2 years
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What are friends for
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✶ One shot
Pairing | Eddie x Female reader 18+.
Post summary | Eddie & y/n have been friends for as long as they can remember, platonic soulmates as his Uncle Wayne called them. But when one of their usual late night sesh talks takes a heated turn, they show each other the real meaning of friendship.
What to expect | 18 + so minors DNI
Post Warnings | Smut, p & v unprotected sex, f & m oral, Eddie Dom, but still being a sweetheart.
Word count | 3.7 K Word Count.
As always, any & all comments/reblogs are most appreciated - Love, P. x 🌿
Authors Note | I'm posting this at 12 am on my birthday as a little gift from me to you, thank you for being patient while I've worked on my series. I've been planning on getting some more OneShots out, so hopefully you've enjoyed this one.
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I snatched the joint hanging between Eddie’s lips, grinning at him playfully as he glanced up at me in frustration.
“Don’t you ever go home?” He remarked condescendingly, taking the blunt back as I blew smoke towards him. I was lounged across his soft carpeted floor on my stomach, flipping through Eddies nudie mags, laughing and giving him shit over the pages he’d dog eared. He was resting against his headboard, stringing his guitar string seductively, watching me kick my legs back in forth in the air. I watched his long fingers stroke the cords softly, as heat flooded my cheeks and my legs throbbed. I averted my eyes, cursing the weed for hiking up my libido ten times its normal strength. 
“Your place is better - case in point.” I smiled widely as his Uncle Wayne hovered at the bedroom door, looking down on us fondly. 
“It wouldn’t kill you two to open a window now and again.” He teased, as Eddie and I passed the blunt back and forth. 
“You heading off to work Wayne?” I rested my feet back on the ground and angled my body so I could look up at him better. I watched Eddie out of the corner of my eye pull a blanket over him to cover his lower half. 
“Yeah, make sure you guys sleep early for school tomorrow. If I catch you guys ditching again, you’re both going to be in trouble.” His denim jacket flapped behind him as he sauntered down the hallway. 
“Oh, we’re gonna sleep alright.’ I wiggled my brows at Eddie suggestively, earning a deep laugh as he chucked a pillow down at me. 
“You’re an idiot.” I joined in on his laughter as my eyes fell back to the magazine in my hands. I smiled as the soft music picked up again, rebounding off the walls of his small room. Most people misjudged Eddie, those that didn’t know him – hated him. But as someone that was lucky enough to be in his inner circle, having been friends since middle school when I punched a kid out for making fun of his buzz cut, I was privy to his secret soft side he kept hidden away from the critical world. 
I was glad that we had made up from our fight earlier, foreign jealousy had flooded through me when I caught him sneaking back from the woods with Chrissy Cunningham in tow, after first period. I had barely given him a second to breathe as he slid into his usual seat beside me at lunch, before unleashing a mass of profanities. Confusion clouding his face at my reaction, he grabbed my chin to force me to look at him, explaining that he was just dealing to her. My eyes had dropped from his in embarrassment, the rest of the table silent as my outburst hung in the air heavily. 
“Jealous much y/n?” He teased, breaking into a mischievous grin. I punched his arm lightly, the tension disappearing between us completely as the topic of conversation turned to Hellfire. 
I refused to acknowledge whatever feelings seeing him with some other girl that wasn’t me, had stirred up inside of me. Eddie was my best friend, nothing else was worth to risking losing that.
I glanced up at him now, watching his dark curls twist at the base of his neck over his collar bones, a fresh cigarette between his teeth since we’d polished off the weed. He must have sensed my gaze as his eyes flew up to meet mine, something flashing in his eyes as I dropped mine in embarrassment at being caught staring. 
I turned my attention back to the pages I flicked through quickly, stopping abruptly as a familiar pair of eyes stared back at me. I slowly lowered my hand and smoothed the page out, I saw that it wasn’t my face that stared back at me as I’d thought, just a very similar looking underwear model. She was lounging on a couch, the image spreading across both pages. Apart from the fact that her body was perfectly airbrushed, I swore she was a dead ringer for me. Same sized tits, similar body shape and identical eyes. 
“Hey look at this.” I said, sitting up abruptly, only to find Eddie’s eyes still trained on me. “She looks like me, don’t you think?” I laughed, to distract myself from the intensity of his glare. I tossed it onto the end of the bed between us, landing with a light smacking sound as the pages crinkled together. He eyes flashed away from it instantly, recognition flaring in his face. 
“Uh yeah, maybe, I don’t know, I can’t really see the resemblance.” Eddies’ face went bright red, looking everywhere except for me as he sat up off the side of the bed, readjusting his jeans. I glanced back down to the magazine, realising only too slow that the open page of the model was also dog eared, crumpled viciously around the edges like someone had opened the mag to that exact page one too many times. 
“Oh.” I whispered, drawing Eddie’s attention back to me as he gauged my reaction. I fixed my stare onto his face, never leaving it as I reached to my hips, pulling my shirt that was tucked into my jeans up over my head and tossing it into a corner of his room. Eddie gulped nervously as my breasts swelled over my bra, a sight that he had never seen before. His eyes trailed down my stomach as I undid my belt, refusing to meet my eyes as I spoke. 
“It’s late, we should head to bed Eddie.” I swiped an old hellfire t-shirt off his dresser and skipped to the bathroom, my heart pounding as heat blossomed in my lower abdomen. It wasn’t unusual for me to sleep in his bed with him when I stayed over, both of us were too stubborn to take the couch. I had said it would be the gentlemen thing for him to do, but Eddie argued back that it was ‘his bed so his rules.” We compromised by usually building a pillow wall between us. 
When I headed back to his room, wearing only his shirt, Eddie had already turned the lights down and snapped open his bedroom window, knowing that I liked to sleep with a breeze pouring through the room. He was gently resting above the covers, playing with the draw strings of his pyjama pants and not wearing a shirt, naturally. He had taken advantage over my absence to get changed quickly as well, leaving his jeans pooled in a mess next to the bed. I picked them up for him and folded them over his desk chair, sliding in next to him under the covers. He didn’t look up or say anything as I snuggled down next to him, but I heard his breathing increase. 
“Hey Eds.” I murmured, listening to him squirm next to me as he adjusted himself into a comfortable position.
“Yes y/n?” He answered cautiously, smiling to myself at his uneasiness, letting him dangle for a little bit. He nudged my back with his knee when I didn’t respond instantly. 
“I’m glad we’re okay after this morning.”  He huffed out a relieved breath and huddle down under the blankets with me, he’d neglected to build a pillow wall between us this time so I could feel the intense heat radiating off his body, I pushed my freezing toes against his legs, electing an annoyed groan from Eddie. 
“S’all good sweetheart, what are friends for.” He whispered, letting my frozen limbs assault him without further complaint. His hot breath fanned across the back of my neck, sending shivers up my spine as he quickly fell into a deep slumber. 
I envied how fast Eddie managed to fall asleep as I tossed and turned hours later, my earlier frustrations bubbling up to the surface. The throbbing had returned between my legs as I became acutely aware of Eddies hulking form towering over me. 
Fuck it, our friendship was strong enough to withstand anything. 
I pushed myself backwards, pressing my ass into his crotch and grinding softly, his soft snores haltered as a strong hand shot out to grip my hip, holding me in place. 
“What are you doing?” His gruff voice broke through the darkness. 
“What does it look like?” I shot back sarcastically, rubbing my ass up and down, grinning as I felt him harden under the sheets between us. 
“You don’t know what you’re doing.” I scoffed slightly at him, both of us were anything but innocent, I had gotten around almost as much as Eddie had. We even shared sex tips, as cute besties did.
“That’s not what your dick thinks.” I nodded beneath the covers, turning my head slightly to get a look at his expression. His hand tightened at my hip, almost ripping the fabric away that sat there. My breath hitched in my throat and my confidence faltered as his eyes darkened, hunger taking over his face. 
“That’s not what I mean, if you keep going y/n… I’m not going to be able to stop.” He allowed some room between us as I turned over to lay on my back, he was half hovering over me now, his hand still at my side. His shirt that I was wearing had ridden up to expose my abdomen and my silky underwear, his eyes travelled down my chest to devour the sight. 
“If you don’t roll over and go back to sleep right now y/n” He warned, his hand moving up to caress my waist. “We can’t go back.” 
His eyes sent an unforeseen knife of need through me, twisting in the pit of my abdomen as a recognizable craving grew there. 
I bit my lip and cupped his cheek, tracing the outline of his lips with my nails. 
“I don’t want to go back.” I moaned. It was enough to push us both over the edge, he flattened himself against my body as I wrapped my legs around his waist, ripping the sheets out of the way that tangled around us. He crushed his lips to mine as a desperate moan escaped him, the sound drove me crazy as I knotted my hands in his hair. He pulled me forward from the pillows, pausing for a moment to run his eyes over my shielded body. 
“You look so fucking sexy in my shirt y/n.” He groaned, running his hands down the sides of my stomach. As he reached the hem of the shirt, he ripped it over my head.
“But even better with it off.” He nodded to himself, his hands immediately reaching to cup my breasts through my lacy bra. He buried his head in the crook of my neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin under my jaw. I gasped loudly and smacked his shoulders. 
“No hickeys.” He bit my neck once more before wrapping a large hand around it and squeezing lightly. My eyes widened as he pulled back to look at me, his face aflame with need. 
“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to. You understand?” I nodded meekly as pleasure wracked my brain from the lack of oxygen. He smirked at my reaction, knowing I had a thing for dominant men, I had told him more than enough times during our late-night talks. I had started off in control, but Eddie had ripped it from my grasp. I reached up behind me to unclasp my bra, but his soft hands quickly stopped me. 
“Actually y/n, I’ve been fantasising about this for as long as I can remember. I want to savour every moment.”
He laid me back gently against his bed, tracing kisses from my jaw line down my sternum, he caressed the side of my neck where his fingertips had pushed into. As he made his way to the top of my panties his eyes flicked up through his lashes to gaze at my face, I stared down at him nervously, not having to imagine how good he was going to be at eating pussy. We had spent hours going back and forth, teaching each other how to be good hook-ups for other people. Now I was about to find out if he’d paid any attention. 
I spread my legs wider to make more room for him as he settled between my thighs, nibbling at the soft inner skin there, leaving wet kisses behind as he travelled the length of my legs, teasing me beyond what should been allowed. He skimmed his palm across my clothed pussy, he barely touched me, but it still sent a bolt of pleasure through me. 
“Jesus, y/n, you’re so wet already.” he laughed, sending vibrations through my body as he brought his mouth close to my clit, looking up at me teasingly as I squirmed. 
“Shut it Munson.” I groaned, trying to wiggle down and close the distance but his strong arm pressed down on my abdomen, keeping me in place. 
“Patience baby.” He traced a long finger up and down my slit, pressing against my entrance through my panties. 
I gasped and moaned as his thumb made slight circles around my clit.
“Eddie, please I’m begging you. Oh fuck.” I nearly screamed as he pulled my panties to the side and his mouth replaced his thumb. His deep laugh at the way I writhed, between my thighs did unspeakable things to my body. He gently suckled at my sweet spot, pulling on it between his teeth softly. I dug my nails into his arm still stretched across my stomach for support. He reached up with his free hand to pull my bra down, freeing both of my tits. His fingers twisted and pinched my nipples painfully until they both became erect, as his tongue continued to lap at my pussy, increasing the wetness that saturated the sheets beneath me already. He moved his hand down back between my thighs as I moaned his name, the burning heat growing closer to the edge with each lick.  
“Fuck you taste so good y/n” He moaned between my legs “Even better than I thought.” He brought a finger to my entrance and slipped it into the base of his knuckle, not giving me any time to adapt to the feeling of it. He lifted his head up to watch me shudder beneath his touch, his eyes twinkling with excitement and his chin dripping wet. I laughed and gasped as his finger curled inside of me, as I reached down to wipe myself off his face, bringing my own fingers back to my mouth to suck the taste of me off of them. His pace increased as he hovered over me, adding an extra finger in to stretch me as far as I would go. 
“Say my name. I wanna hear you say who’s making you feel this good.” He brought his face close to mine, biting my lip as he pumped away between my legs. I couldn’t speak, I could barely breath as my orgasm threatened to spill over. Sensing I was close he sat back on his heels, pulling his fingers out from me and licking my essence off them, I grabbed his hand as it fell to his side and shoved his fingers as far as they’d go down my throat, moaning at the taste of me as I watched his eyes roll back into his head. 
With a jolt he reached back down between my shaking legs, entrapping my clit between two of his knuckles and rolling it back and forth, his rings gently clinking together. 
“Eddie I wanna cum.” I complained impatiently, my abdomen clenching. 
“Not yet baby, not yet.” I sat forward out of his grasp and quickly snapped the  draw strings of his pants loose, running my hands along his v-line. Two could play at this game, I thought. He threw his head back as I pulled his pants down, allowing his cock to spring free. When he had boasted to me about whatever hook-up he found at his usual bar, I thought he had been exaggerating about his size, as most guys did. But Eddie was huge to the point it sent a stab of fear shooting through me. Glancing up at him through my lashes approvingly, he grinned down at me, being able to read my mind as always. 
“Impressed are you y/n?” I smirked at him and began twisting my hand up and down his shaft, pooling salvia in my mouth. 
“You should know by now, I’m no liar-“ His droning was effectively cut off as I took the tip of him into my warm mouth, his salty pre cum washing over my tongue. I removed him with a little pop and licked from the base of his cock to the tip, dribbling a little to make my hand slide up and down easier. He groaned and put his hands behind his head, arching his hips forward to try and push himself further into my mouth. 
“Patience baby.” I mocked him, smiling up at him as I leant forward on my knees, arching my own back so he could see my ass a little better from his position. 
“Fuckkkk y/n, you look so pretty like that.” I moaned as I slid his entire cock into my mouth, swirling my tongue, Eddie shuddered and wrapped his hands in my hair, gently guiding my head back and forth. I sucked in my cheeks to tighten the warm feeling around his cock, he twitched with pleasure and rammed forward into my face. I choked and gagged, he pulled back instantly, his tip resting against my swollen lips. 
“Shit y/n, are you okay? Sorry I didn’t mean to do that.” He wiped a tear falling down my check, worry clouding his face. I kissed his palm to tell him it was okay and brought his dick back into my mouth gently, picking up a constant pace, tickling his balls like I know he loved. His hand moved from my face to cup the back of my neck, but more carefully this time. He started thrusting faster as I felt him getting close, as he moaned deliciously, I pulled away from him. He looked down at me incredulously.
“Wait what, come back y/n.” He tried to grab me, but I shuffled back up the bed, spreading my legs seductively as an invitation. 
“Oh, I’m sorry Eddie, did you wanna cum?” I smiled deviously as he watched me play with myself, teasing him. “Tell me about the model in the mag by the way, did you pretend she was me when you were jerking off to it?”
‘You’re in trouble now.” He growled, reaching up to my ankles and dragging me back down the bed. I squealed as he pulled me against him, crushing his lips to mine as I smiled. With my legs still in his grip, he crossed them over so quickly that I flipped and landed face down in the mattress. I gasped as his intention hit me. Without missing a beat, he wrapped his hands around my hips and wrenched my pelvis backwards against his waist, his hard cock pressing against my clothed slit. 
“Let me show you what I imagined when I was jerking off over you y/n.” I could hear in his voice that he was smirking, and I reached between my legs to clasp his balls. He gasped and dug his hands into my skin. 
“Are you gonna talk or fuck me Munson?” He didn’t hesitate as he pulled my panties to the side and plunged into me, struggling a bit as he was more than I had ever been used to. We moaned as the sensation of my walls opening up to him hit us both. He paused as he bottomed out in me, letting me get used to the size of him, both of us gasping to catch our breaths. He grabbed my free hand to pin behind my back, his rings digging into my skin as he pressed down on me slightly, beginning to thrust into me. Each moan of pleasure he fucked from my body brought us both closer to the edge, our noises turning animalistic as we both raced towards our release. As my body began to convulse, he stopped and flipped me back over so I faced him, pushing back into me before I could miss the feeling of him.
“I want to watch that pretty face of yours while you cum y/n.” I gasped and pressed my mouth against his, running my tongue along his bottom lip to taste his delectable scent. At the feel of my mouth, he fucked me harder, keeping up the steady pace as my legs locked around him. I hid my face away in the crook of his neck while waves of pleasure crashed over me, he cried out in pain as I bit down on the soft patch of skin near his shoulder, my nails leaving matching scratches in his back. He fucked me through my orgasm until he pulled out and released his own across my stomach, shivering as he held himself above my frame, the prettiest noises I’d ever heard tumbling from his mouth. 
Eddie rolled to the side and held me tight for a moment, pressing a kiss to the top of my hair before jumping off the bed and grabbing a random shirt from the floor. I moved my hand from swirling pretty patterns in his mixture as he gently wiped it off of me, he poked his tongue out the corner of his mouth while he made sure to clean all of it off of me. 
“I think that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had Eddie.” I breathed as a cloud of ecstatic bliss surrounded me. He grinned up at me through his beautiful lashes. 
“That’s what friends are for.” He joked, sitting up on the bed next to me to clean himself up. As he tossed the shirt away and pulled a cigarette to his mouth, I swung my leg over to straddle him, pushing his hands above his head against the bed frame, the gentle click of the handcuffs echoing around us as I wrapped them around his wrists, locking him into place. 
“My turn Munson.” I grinned, stealing the cigarette from his lips. 
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Also Readers - if anyone is looking for a slow burn Eddie x y/n, check out my Opposite Ends series.
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Copyright © 2022 by P.McCann
All rights reserved.
2K notes · View notes
pinkrelish · 2 years
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𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.
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bestfriend!eddie x fem!reader
✶“So,” you leaned into the joke by lowering your voice to a provocative, airy tone, “What are you wearing?”✶
NSFW — smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, secretly getting off while the other doesn't know it, voice kink, perv!eddie, perv!reader
chapter: 7/15 [wc: 4.4k]
↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11
AO3
Chapter 7: Satan Always Calls Collect
You shivered. The chilly air in the tiled hallway hit the dewy drops leftover from your shower, sending an eruption of goosebumps down your exposed legs. In your slippers, you shuffled to the ice machine, filled your floppy ice pack, and returned to your dorm room, where you were more comfortable limping to your bed despite not seeing another soul. Weekends were quiet on the athletic side of campus.
Getting ready for the night, you threw back your bed covers looking forward to a long rest; a nice relaxing time knowing your alarm clock was set two hours later than usual. That is, until the phone on the shared bedside table rang.
Sagging, you answered expecting your roommate to say she forgot something, “Hello?”
“Hey.” Your stomach clenched and flipped at his distorted voice over the line. “Was just thinking about you. Sorry it’s been two weeks.”
“Don’t tell me you read a magazine that said you should wait that long to call a girl, Munson.”
Exhaling in a short scoff, he set down a metal can of whatever he was drinking; a hollow tink, presumably an empty beer. “I’m afraid my magazines don’t have many articles giving dating advice in them.” Images of naked babes posed on cars entered your mind. Probably the same titles he collected when he was younger. Sounding more apologetic, he said, “I meant to call sooner. Between getting band stuff going, researching and writing out the rest of this campaign, and other bullshit, I’ve been busy. Just coming home and crashing at night.”
“And what about your homework?”
“Yeah.. Definitely been trying to–”
“Choose your words wisely.”
“..Copy someone else’s,” he caved. Popping the tab of another drink, he sipped a few times before he felt comfortable speaking again, in a much softer manner. “I missed you.”
Glancing at the door to make sure it was closed, you sank into your mattress and tried not to ruminate too deeply over him missing you. He’d said it before, there was no reason to latch onto it now. Playing it over, and over, again in your head. Wondering how often he missed you, or thought about you in general, and what sparked him to do so, and whether or not it was as frequent as you thought about him. And if those thoughts led to other thoughts.. Daydreams, even. The sort of questions you weren’t supposed to have about your best friend. “Missed you too, Eddie. You know, you have perfect timing. I just got out of the shower, and my roommates gone for the weekend over to her boyfriend’s.” Crinkly static responded. A buzzing lull as your words sank in through your thick skull. Putting your hand over your eyes, you explained, “That sounded weird. I meant I was getting ready for bed when you called.” You almost promised him you were wearing clothes, but that seemed like a suggestion too far in the area you were trying to avoid.
Except he careened right for it. “Not wearing your tracksuit, huh?”
“No.” God, you hated how high-pitched you went when you were grinning. Twirling the phone cord around your finger like a schoolgirl, cheesing so hard your cheeks hurt. “None of the windbreaker stuff you hate.. I’m wearing pink pajamas with little ladybugs on them.”
Embarrassing.
He snickered. “Sounds cute. Do you really go to bed at 8:30 like an old lady?”
“I am old,” you insisted. In the background, you heard him walking through his trailer, assuming from the kitchen to his room with the phone tucked to his shoulder, falling to his bed with a nasally huff directly into the microphone.
No amount of shame could keep your body demure. In any other context, you wouldn’t have noticed the soft fabric of your adorable matching pajama set brushing over your nipples; an action that would be ignored on any other occasion, if it weren’t for them being coaxed from their half-hardened state to fully erect with the knowledge of where your mind was wandering.
Listening intently, there was no mistaking Eddie’s long exhale as he shifted, and the grind of a zipper being pulled.
“So,” you leaned into the joke by lowering your voice to a provocative, airy tone, “What are you wearing?”
If you could bottle his laugh, you would. It would be lacking the nuances of how his chest shook, the intricacies of his short curls bouncing, and the twinkle in his eye when his gaze slid to yours, but it would suffice on these lonely nights made less lonely by him.
“I’m–just takin’ my jacket off,” he was quick to excuse, stunting his words in a believable way for someone struggling to remove the heavy-ass layers they wore when it wasn’t even cold out. “Wearing my Hellfire shirt, which reminds me.. I couldn’t help but notice you stole my other one.”
Your fingers sought the keepsake stashed beneath your pillow out of instinct. “Oops, my bad.”
“Couldn’t possibly be because you’re planning on making the drive to join us again?” He didn’t allow you time to reject the offer. “The brats have been bothering me about you.” Sucking in a long breath, you could visualize him struggling between a nod of approval and an admonishing shake. “They think they can weasel their way out of everything by concocting these asinine scenarios, like flirting with a magically locked door to open it. You’re a bad influence on them, y’know, you shattered my illusion of being the big scary DM, and now they think I’ll give in to their demands if they’re creative enough.”
“You poor baby,” you mocked, “Sounds like you don’t even want me there.”
“I want you here.”
Instant. An ache in your chest. Lump in your throat. A single sentence washing over you, bathing you, soothing you. Snaking its way around your body. Muddying your apprehensions. He just.. said it so boldly, and immediately with conviction. Serious. Not at all matching your cooing lilt.
You laid back in bed, and if the phone cord happened to drag over your clothed tits and brush your nipples as you switched hands, thus causing you to suck in your bottom lip between your teeth, then so be it. The sensation was electric. All pleasure. And he didn’t have to know.
Back to reality, you stifled a pained grunt from lifting your right leg onto the bed. Sighing in relief at the ice pack numbing your knee.
“That was quite a noise you just made,” he said, deeper in register, a little slower and coming from his chest. Helplessly gravelly, and directly into your ear pressed against the sweaty plastic.
And yeah, your sigh came out more as a whimper than you intended. “I told you I’m getting old,” you said, slipping the top button of your shirt undone. “Gotta ice my knee after every practice. And my hips, and my left shoulder after uneven bars, both ankles–especially after having two surgeries on the right one a few years ago. God, and don’t even get me started on my back.” The next button gave easily, and your tired body was accepted by your fluffy blankets. Weary head resting amongst the pillows as your eyes fell closed.
Your callused fingertips made contact with the sensitive skin of your clavicle and Eddie continued in the same measured cadence, “Are you taking care of yourself?”
Eyes very open and mouth very shut, you glanced around your room, unnerved he chose the very second your thumb strummed over your nipple to ask that question in that way. “Wait, what?”
“Are you eating properly and giving your body a break?”
Oh. “Yes and definitely not. I told you my money is mine now, so everything’s getting better. I mean, I can afford these cute pajamas, at least. No more canned green beans on plain rice and stealing my roommate’s ketchup, for me. Plus, I get free food at my job.” You opened the rest of your shirt, bare chest rising and falling in the indecent way it should when you stopped resisting your cravings. “Can’t make any promises about my body.”
His sudden caring attitude erred on the side of doting. “I just worry about you pushing yourself too hard, sometimes.”
Thumb and index giving yourself light pinches, your jaw slackened as your body didn’t, running one leg up the other until both your thighs squeezed tight. “That’s what comes with the sport. Teenage glory and then an early retirement when your knees no longer work.” He made a gruff sound from his throat. “Why do you care? I’m the one who got a silver medal on vault last Nationals. I’m geriatric, Eddie. It happens.” Your pinches escalated in strength, causing you to press your tongue to your teeth in order to discipline yourself from being so obvious.
“Is it so wrong I want you to be healthy?”
“It’s annoying.”
“Oh, but I like annoying you.” His smirk preceded his teasing remark. An undue bite to his inflection, like he was enjoying himself far too much.
And maybe you enjoyed the idea of him caring about you too much, too.
Flattening your palm to your belly, your fingernails grazed your delicate skin on their course downward. With the phone nestled under your cheek, you used your other hand to pull the tie of your shorts loose, and slid your fingers beneath the waistband, climbing over your mound. The tip of your middle finger paused at the height of where you needed it most. Tempting your desire to test the naughtiness of it all, holding your breath as you debated if this was crossing a line; and as your free hand cupped your breast, and the backside of your thumb teetered on the precipice of a bad idea, his warm voice pushed you over the edge.
“I’ll just have to take care of you, then, if you’re not going to do it yourself.”
A stroke: thumb, and middle finger. Acute delight fluttering your inhale, and a deep rapture between your legs. Once, twice, then a little circle. Back and forth.
“Oh? And how do you suppose you’ll do that?”
“Come back to Hawkins and find out.”
Not falling for that one. Speak all the fantasies you had aloud in that honeyed rasp of his, he would do nothing to relieve your stress. In fact, you were sure he went out of his way to avoid touching you at DND, acting out the goblin’s chants by gripping the other guy’s shoulders, whispering menacingly in their ear, drumming his fingers along their backs to creep them out. Except when it came to your turn. Your hair stood on end in anticipation. And he walked past you to sing the last sinister verse on his throne. Like you didn’t exist.
What was he going to do if you drove the 16 hour round trip? Massage your lower back through sheer will alone?
Heartbreak awaited you in Hawkins. That’s it.
“Tempting offer,” you mused past the sting of a lost cause, past the dulled pain of unrequited feelings, arriving at the selfish lust of pretending he was as affected by this phone call as you.
Delving lower, you crooked your fingers and glided your arousal to your clit, swirling more vigorous, purposeful, and needy patterns of bliss. Burning in a hot flush taking over you with the phone trapped beneath the side of your face, turned in a way that would allude to you looking at him laying next to you, noses and lips touching his. A perfect delusion. Somehow, you expelled your excuses coherently, “It’s not like when we were kids; I have training every morning before class, and a second session after, and I pick up hours at work when I can. Not to mention, you know, the actual classes, and exams, and stuff; the reason I’m here, if you remember?”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you in your off season? Meant for recovery?”
Astute observation. “Coach, uh..” This clinical conversation was not exactly fueling your perversions. “I haven’t been given much of a break ‘cause Coach wanted me to test into the Elite program, and start vying for a spot on the ‘88 Olympic team.. I’d be able to take sponsorships, if I did. Sounds better than having my clothes smell like grease, and being subjected to drunk frat boys hitting on me for a paycheck.”
A little less groggy, he said in an excited lurch, “That’s an amazing opportunity, tell me you’re considering it.”
“I dunno..” An honest insecurity warbled your dilemma. “That’s still years away, and I’d definitely have to drop out of college to focus on it. And yeah, who knows what condition my body will be in at that point. Twenty-three-years-old is practically one foot in the grave for gymnasts. Can’t imagine competing when I can already feel myself slowing down. I’d rather retire young, finish college, and join the circus.”
He sighed your name– In frustration or something more tender, you weren’t sure since you interrupted him to steer the conversation elsewhere.
“Can we talk about anything else?” you asked.
His hard swallow funneled from Indiana to Pennsylvania. From his mouth to your ear. States away, but loud and clear.
Long pause.
Two fingers deep, you closed your eyes from staring at the ceiling, tongue lulled in a silent moan. Hips chasing the heel of your palm in search of the building tension ramping to mind-altering degrees. Forgetting everything that wasn’t in direct sight of your release. Including the near-mute whine escaping with your exhale. Fucking yourself at a faster tempo, imagining he’d be the kind to like it that way. Interrupting your gasps of his name with each thrust. His face, reddened from effort, hovering above yours. His hair sweeping your cheeks. Building. Building. Sending a wanton throb to your clit. Begging for the expertise of your thumb while your fingers were buried in your willing cunt closing in tight around inadequacy.
Long pause.
His mattress springs creaked before you became muffled to the world. His soft breath was replaced by the harsh noise of fabric rubbing against the mic. You jerked away, nose wrinkled at the loudness of it all, about to ask if he dropped the phone when he came back.
“We can talk about whatever you want,” he enunciated in a sweltering union of coercion and dare.
————
Eddie didn’t remember when, exactly, it happened, but he did recall forgiving it as an involuntary response to his nerves.
Metal can to lips, happiness resided. The first beer he downed quickly, but was still too aware of his inhibitions. It did little to hush his pounding heart stuttering his breaths, nor quench his dry mouth. The second drink was better at eliminating the shake in his fingers. The third dulled his face until it tingled under his prodding, feeling the sensation beneath a buzzing layer of haze.
The strip of your character sheet was balled in his sweaty fist. Resolute, he punched the number in order.
It was possible his body reacted to that first ring. Or when you attempted to disguise your annoyed tone under an air of curiosity when you answered with a curt, “Hello?” Or, maybe, his pants became uncomfortably snug when the both of you implied he needed dating advice to talk to you; his friend.
Or it happened when you mentioned what you were wearing.
Freshly showered. In bed all alone. Implying much, and saying so little.
Yeah, he definitely cupped himself then, reveling in the satisfaction of his hardon being treated with the kindness it deserved.
He didn’t waste time taking off his shoes before he was stretching the phone cord to its limits to reach his room. Falling into bed, laying slightly propped up by his pillow. An excited jitteriness to his movements as he unfastened his belt, leather ends dropping to either side of his hips, sucking in his stomach to unbutton his jeans, but as sneaky as he was, you heard the zipper struggle over the bulk of his increasing neediness. “I’m–just takin’ off my jacket,” he said, tilting his head up to escape the groan begging to be announced when his red boxers stretched to their limits in a swell between the black lanes his jeans created. Freed from its cage.
Not once did shame enter his mind. He knew his limits. He could be quiet. He could be quick. He could keep it routine. He was simply taking care of a momentary lapse in judgment, and you didn’t have to know. It wouldn’t get out of hand. Hell, he could even manage to carry a coherent conversation with you. Coherent, but a little apparent where his mind resided, repeatedly mentioning your body.
He shoved his Hellfire shirt up to his chest, giving himself ample room for later.
“Are you taking care of yourself?”
Why did you have to react that way, seconds after gifting him with the most delicious moan when you climbed into bed? Sucking in a breath like a gasp; so sweet and innocent, and naive to the rate at which his depravity shattered his illusion of self-control.
Are you hungry, sweetheart? I’ll make you dinner, just sit there and look pretty for me.
Groping his clothed length, he tightened his fist until his fingers circled around himself. Tugging once, twice. Dragging the tip to where it peeked out from under the waistband. Sticky precum glistening in a strand leading to his belly.
You’re tired, baby? Let me draw you a bath. Yes, of course I’ll join you. Don’t worry.
Stroke after stroke, he immersed himself in his fantasy.
But first, tell me where it hurts. Trust me. I’ll take care of you.
It was a secret he’d take to the grave. How much he wanted to be the one you sought after practice. Still dressed in your leotard. Smelling of chalk, sweat, and foam. Providing you with the needs you neglected. Nurturing you in the ways he could. Your muscles are sore? Let me massage them for you. Your thighs are shaking? Come lay down, my Light.
Eddie tried to keep his breathing level as he rocked side to side, shoving his jeans and boxers down. It was torture telling you to come back to Hawkins when he knew he wouldn’t act on his impulses and learn the different ways you could articulate his name.
Just friends. Just friends, he told himself as his skilled hand tamed his urges. Fitting his palm to the underside, fingers curled with his index lifted from the rest, black ring glimmering as he slid his grip upwards. A pleasant brush over the lipped edge. Itching for more, but some part of him wanted to savor the novelty of talking to you while he touched himself. Sullying the image of his perfect girl on her way to becoming an Olympian.
If only you knew how young he was when this idea first sprang to his mind..
What about between those strong thighs, sweetheart? I can make you feel better there, too.
Oh, how he wanted to bury himself there.
His hips jerked. Pumping his fist without his permission. He wanted to make this last. Explore those visions which became more frequent after seeing you train at the rec center. Delve into this region of the late-night images he tried to resist as of late, only to wake up covered in a mess. Dreaming of fucking his best friend and how gently he’d do it.
God, what he would give to have that reality. You sitting on the bed. Any bed. How he’d kneel before you on the floor, running his hands up your calves. Treating you to his thumbs massaging into the muscle. Relaxing you after a long day of training. Gazing into your eyes as he inserted himself between your legs. Slipping his fingers beneath the straps of your leotard, peeling it away from your exhausted body, sliding it over your shoulders. Chasing open-mouth kisses over the unclean skin he wasn’t familiar with. Salt mixing with his spit. Lapping at the column of your throat. Grazing his teeth over your pulse. Lower. Cherishing your warmth. Lower. Teasing the flesh responding to his prompting. He needed to go lower as you tangled his hair in your fists.
Stripping your upper half from the confining uniform, he would expose you for his veneration only. Pursuing where your stuttered speech commanded him. As tender as his hand cradling the back of your head lowering you to the mattress. As enthusiastic as his lips discovering boundaries beyond your friendship.
Even in his fantasies, every now and then, he’d keep your clothing on. He’d never admit he liked it in some ways. Implying how unhinged he was in taking you, that he couldn’t wait for you to undress.
He’d simply trace the edge of your leotard cutting from the crease of your hip to where you begged him to serve you. Moving the fabric aside to flirt, and lick, and suckle until his name was muffled from your thighs enclosing around his face, bucking against his tongue tasting you for the first time. Hailing him to the heavens as he honored you on his knees.
Then, he’d flip you over. Snatch the backside of your tight clothing and wedge it between your round ass. Hiking your hips up with a firm slap on your leg. Outlining your plump pussy under the taut fabric covered in the praise he gave you. Obeying the overwhelming desire to grind himself into the curve of your cunt and add his own decadence dripping down your beautiful thighs.
Fuck, he didn’t mean to sigh your name as he stroked his cock.
“Can we talk about anything else?” you asked.
Smothering the phone against his chest, Eddie rolled onto his shoulder and swirled his tongue around his mouth a few times, then spat into his hand.
It was a miracle he could speak with clarity.
“Of course.” Could you hear the lewd slap he was making, driving his hand up and down his shaft, trying and failing to keep a moderate pace? “Anything exciting you want to tell me?”
“Mmm,” you drew out the hum and he swore he could feel the vibration in his chest. “I’m going to New Jersey next week with a few girls from the team. We’re going to the beach.”
Faster. An open invitation for him to picture you in a bikini. Running his hands up your waist to the underside of your tits. Letting an accident take place; a loose string, and he’d have to help cover you up, and you’d thank him for being so chivalrous by using your mouth.
“Sounds cool. Never been to the beach.”
“One of them has a camera, so I can take some pictures for you. We went last year, too. The ocean’s really pretty.”
Faster, again, because your voice was getting huskier. A hushed caress along his cheek. Likely because you were falling asleep on him, but he didn’t care. Didn’t care. Didn’t care. So sweet and soft for him. Easing his fingers over his cock to your pretty voice coming from your pretty mouth. Each pump, each digit, each squeeze and twist of his wrist at the top bringing him closer to the edge.
There it was again–your quiet intake of breath being released as a whiny plea away from the phone.
Head tipped, he choked back a groan, and thrusted into his fist as if his palm were you, no longer concerned about the consequences of being caught.
You kept him on the line, “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”
Oh, baby.
Observing his red knuckles in a bout of lucidity, he played up his complaining to garner your sympathy, “Playing mechanic around the trailer park. Gotta be the one to fix everything for everybody. My hand got a little scraped up, though.”
“Aw,” you purred, “Want me to kiss it better?”
This was it. This was it. He was gonna–
Feathery, jumpy sentences spilled from his mouth all at once, “Hey–sweetheart–something just came up. I’ll call you back. Okay?”
You stuttered as well–an Angel’s hymn to his devilish ways, “Y-Yeah. Bye.”
He didn’t have time to hang up.
Slamming the phone to the side of his mattress, he prayed you couldn’t hear his groan of your name break on his tongue. Silent moans escaping past his sealed lips when he dropped his head back. Toes curling right as his thighs twitched and flexed. Erratic movements interrupting his rhythm. Panting as a throb trembled him. Desperately fucking a poor replacement for his best friend’s pussy.
“That’s it–fuck.”
Chest falling in great huffs, he watched his cum land on his shirt, covering him while his strokes faltered, slowed, using his dripping climax as lube. Body jerking from overstimulation. Sliding his thumb over the intoxicating nerves telling him to stop. But it felt so good to picture you straddling him, bouncing relentlessly until he was begging for mercy.
“Holy shit,” he sighed. And then a disenchanted, “Jesus,” as he looked at the mess cooling on his skin, alone in his bed, clear-headed and aware he would never have what he wanted, despite the temporary stupidity clouding his mind moments ago, encouraging him to risk it all.
A sober realization after the best orgasm he’d experienced in his recent years.
Racing heart on the decline, he faced his fears and picked up the phone.
When the dial tone reached him, he mumbled something in relief and let it fall to the floor, listening to the cord drag it back into the hallway while he body went lax, and his vision went dark with his arms crossed over his face.
————
Your phone sat crooked on the receiver.
“Ed–” you couldn’t complete his name, lost to the aftershocks of your climax. Circling your fingers again, and again, over your sensitive clit until, at last, you couldn’t handle more, and went languid. Blinking at the blurry ceiling, accepting it was time to surrender to your drowsy eyelids and sleep.
Reaching for the lamp, you noticed the phone wasn’t hung up. You scrambled for it, and held it up to your ear, listening to the other end of the line. More staticky fabric noise.
Eddie probably drank more than he let on and dropped it again. Meaning he didn’t hear you coach him into fucking you harder, faster at the height of your yearning. Thank God.
You ended the call for him.
That was close.
Taglist: @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @myfavoritesareproblematic @henhouse-horrors @tlclick73 @sidthedollface2 @i-will-duckyou-up @qnsfwthoughts @captainonaboat @eddiemuns0nl0ver @godcreatoreli @harrys-tittie @eg-dr3amer3 @trixyvix88 @venomsvl @lacrymosa-24 @sashaphantomhive @sharp-and-swift @emokid-ellie @mantorokk-writes @drdvlss @mirrorsstuff @bebe0701 @eddiethesexy 
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in2meijasworld · 11 months
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A/n: whew okay excuse me for the delay but here we areee. I went all out on this one, sorry not sorry. Stayed up till 1am writing this and I am not disappointed.
Pairing: tangerine x fem!reader
Part 1
Tw: MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/ 18+. Guns. teasing, degrading, fingering, p in v, male dominating, hair-pulling, doggystyle, cum shots, female and male orgasm, mirror fuck, ass slapping
KEY LIME PIE pt. 2
The tip of the gun rested at his temples, but your finger wasn't on the trigger. Tangerine noticed this. However, you wouldn't hesitate to put it to use. If only you weren't so attractive to this charming fuck. Your years of being easily manipulated have been dissipated into ruins. Yet this man had you in a slight chokehold for some fucking reason.
"Woahh. Hasty fella aren't ya?" Tangerine emphasized with a wicked grin, "If you were into role play you should've mentioned it before hand Love."
"Shut the fuck up." You demanded with a hint of fluster.
You hated how confident and cocky he was even with a gun pointed to his head, beginning to question if he simply wasn't intimidated by you or if this was just the type of bastard he was. Surely, it was your turn getting sexually influenced.
"Usually I'm the dominant one," he began with a smirk, "But if you insist."
Keeping eye contact with him, you aimed the gun at the wall now and pushed on the release, plopping the magazine (bullet holder) on the bed. Without breaking eye contact, you pulled back on the barrel, ensuring the gun was no longer active before throwing it down onto a seat near the ground.
No hesitation present allowed you to meet his lips hungrily. His hands snaked down to your ass, giving it a starved squeeze for more. You grinded your hips into his bulge, earning a groan buzzing on your lips. He unclipped your bra in the midst of the kiss.
Two seconds passed before everyone's clothes were off already. In one motion, he flipped you over, your back against the bed now before he leaned down, massaging your breasts eagerly before taking your nipples into his mouth.
A moan escaped you as his tongue flicked your nerves, sending waves of wetness down to your core. As if that motion sent him a notification, his large hand traveled above your torso and down on top of your core, pulling your panties to the side. His finger rubbed brisk circles onto your clit before feeling below your soaking folds.
"Prat." He scoffed, easing his head into the crevice of your neck now, nibbling onto your skin and peppering it with sucks and kisses, "Wet for daddy, aren't you love?" He grazed your sweet spot, sending erotic chills down your spine, "Couldn't fucking hold it in could you?"
"Mm-" you attempted, unable to mutter out anything more from the moaning mess you were.
He grabbed your chin aggressively with his hand, forcing you to make eye contact with him before he shoved a finger inside your pussy, "Use your fucking words."
Ignoring his question, "Please fuck me," you begged with teary eyes, "I need you inside me"
He added another inside you, curling them upwards as he fucked you with his fingers, earning a wet sound that echoed the room, "Not so tough now are you Love?"
He sped up his fingers, causing you to arch your back slightly against the covers, "Begging for me to put my cock inside you already?" He teased, enjoying the sight of you struggling underneath him as he worked his fingers inside your pussy.
You finally looked up at him frustrated and angry, "Stop fucking teas-" you started and failed, whimpering as he began rubbing your clit with his free thumb. He stared down at you, admiring the flustered mess you were.
A chuckle released from his lips as your eyes rolled back from his rhythm. He took out his fingers and grabbed your face with his other hand, pressing against your cheeks for you to open.
He rashly stuck his fingers in your mouth, "Taste yourself." He demanded.
You fleetingly obeyed, closing your mouth and sucking at his fingers. A drunk smile emerged on your face at the delicious taste, not being able to hide the fact you were so excited for him to hopefully finally fuck you.
His fingers left your mouth and met his as he sucked any reside from your pussy left on them. He flipped your legs over, your stomach on the covers now as your ass faced him. He angled your flimsy body forward, pulling your head up by your hair, forcing you to hold yourself up on all fours. You saw a reflection of yourself with a provocative man behind you glistening ahead in a huge mirror.
"You're gonna watch me fuck this little cunt of yours." He demanded. His rock hard cock poked at your folds, he stroked the line down your pussy, gathering all your wetness and teasing you simultaneously.
Your head fell forward in a frenzy, he was teasing but it didn't change the fact you were overly aroused. He grabbed a big bundle of your hair again, forcing you to look in the mirror as you felt his large member slide inside your pussy. You bit down on your bottom lip hard and scrunched your eyes closed.
He let out a delicious groan, "I said watch." He paused his stroke, impatiently waiting for you to open your eyes again before inching himself all the way in and out, slowly thrusting now.
A cry escaped your mouth as you watched your pussy get filled. He watched you through the mirror, admiring your beautiful and vulnerable face, your mouth clenched down on your bottom lip to prevent you from screaming. His hands squeezed your ass before he gripped the side of your hips, guiding his strokes skillfully in your pussy.
You moaned out loud, feeling every inch of his dick caress your walls. You began meeting his stroke halfway, backing your ass into his thrusts. The tip of his dick reached deep into your core, causing you to yelp in pain yet intense pleasure. He couldn't help but feel the same way.
"Such a fucking slut," he slapped your ass twice, bringing your arms up and hands behind your back now. Your face laid down on the bed. He held at your wrists as if you were in handcuffs before he started pounding himself inside you, "My fucking slut." He confessed hungrily. His dick fucked into you harshly.
"Give me that dick daddy" you moaned out hoarsely. He grinned at your eagerness, obeying your request now. The sound of skin slapping and squelching from your pussy inhabited the room, complimented by Tangerines hungry groans and your cries of pleasure.
Sweat trickled down his head as he stopped for a split second, flipped you on your back again, wasting no time to shove his dick back inside your pussy. He thrusted skillfully into you, leaning down to make out with you sloppily as you followed.
He pushed your legs up now, resting them above his shoulders as he slowed down his thrusts, giving you longer, intense strokes in and out of your pussy.
A tear slid down your face from the overwhelming pleasure. You've never felt this good before and you could cry more at the thought of it ever ending. He swiped the tear away with his thumb before leaning down to kiss you again, passionately this time as he worked his strokes.
"So fucking sexy y/n..." he groaned into your lips, lowering them down to your neck before sucking deep hickeys, "Your pussy is so wet. Gripping on my cock like you never want me to leave..."
The bubbling sensation of your orgasm heated up at his words. Your nails were digging into his back now, eagerly wanting to cream and squirt on him.
"Please please..." you whimpered pathetically at the feeling of him entering deeper and deeper inside of you at the new angle.
He brought his head back up to look at you with piercing blue eyes, "Use your words darling." He began to pick up his pace again as if he knew, continuing the sounds of your wet pussy.
"Fuck- Tang-..." you sobbed out, prying your eyes close. Tangerine reached down again, grabbing your face with one hand, gesturing you to open your eyes to meet his. Your nerves melted inside your pussy, the most intense orgasm reaching your core as you screamed out, your legs shook viciously, creaming all over his dick.
"Yeah baby..." he thrusted perfectly, "Just like that" he praised, "cream on my dick for daddy"
He pulled out, painting his seed all over your stomach like you were an art piece he was finishing off. The view was perfect, his eyebrows scrunched with sweat dripping down, his mouth slightly open for his grunts and moans to emit his lips as he pumped out the last strips of cum.
He fell on top of you, completely ignoring the puddles of cum in between both of you, trying to catch back his breath. You'd be lying if you said you weren't out of breath too.
"Oh my fucking God. We're a fucking sandwich." you joked, covering your whole face with both of your hands in disbelief, "You can get off now."
"Bloody wicked woman you are." He laid there still, turning his head to kiss your cheek, ignoring your request.
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corrodedcorpses · 1 year
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Do you Trust me?
Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: You try a new kink with Eddie.
Warnings: Smut (18+ MDNI), language (use of whore and slut), Piss kink (it's fairly tame though), bladder control, oral (fem receiving), unprotected p in v sex
Word count: 2.7k
a/n: Please, please read warnings before reading. If you're not in to this kink, please do not read. I know it's not for everyone but that's okay. You can also totally blame thank @wroteclassicaly and @corrodedhawkins for giving me this kink because of their amazing fics.
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(also thought this gif was fitting cause he's all wet)
It was a lazy summer afternoon, you had been hanging out with Eddie in his trailer all day just chatting, watching tv and having lunch together. Just a really relaxing, really nice day together. 
You were currently flipping through a magazine on Eddie’s bed while he worked on his newest campaign at the desk, both of you pausing sometimes to talk about an idea he’d just had or to tell him something you’d read that he’d find interesting or amusing. 
It definitely wasn’t uncommon for half of the stuff to come out of Eddie’s mouth to be completely out of the blue. But when he turned to you next, you definitely weren’t ready for the question that left his lips. 
“Hey sweetheart,” he started, a little unsure how to broach the subject. 
You looked up at him, making a mmm sound. You were surprised to find that he had turned completely around to face you. This must be serious. 
“Have you ever heard of a piss kink?” He blurted out, there really was no way to sugarcoat the question. 
You look at him confused and a little shocked. Definitely expecting really anything but that to come out of him. 
“Umm,” you say with a slight laugh, “yeah, yeah I have. It’s where people pee on each like during sex and shit right?” 
Eddie nods, “yeah- I mean pretty much, yeah” 
You wait for him to say something else but he just stares at you, almost looking a little nervous as you see he’s thinking about something. 
“What ahhhh, what do you think of it?” 
You look at him a little shocked but definitely amused. You’re not used to Eddie looking so nervous and can’t help but tease him a little.  “Why? Do you wanna piss all over me baby?” You say with fake lust. 
Eddie knew you were joking, your tone definitely wasn’t serious but he couldn’t help the way his dick twitched at your words. He tried to play it off cool but rubbed at his neck, usually a clear sign he was nervous about something. 
He shrugs, “just wanted to know what you thought of it”. 
“I’m not sure, I’ve never really given it much thought but I’m not too sure I’d like it, but I guess you never know till you try it right?” 
He just nods with an unreadable expression on his face. You’re curious as to why he asked all of a sudden and realise he never really answered your question before.
“Is this something…” you start, trying to be delicate as Eddie is obviously nervous and in case Eddie is actually into this, you’d hate to make him feel embarrassed, “… you’re into?” 
Eddie shrugs again at your question, trying to seem as unbothered as possible even though his heart is beating incredibly fast and he’s worried he’s gone too far by asking you about this. What if you find him disgusting for even wanting to try it? What if you bully him and call him a freak? He ponders over his next words carefully and he reminds himself that this is you. Even if this isn’t something you’re into he’s sure you wouldn’t tease him for it. 
“I’ve never really tried it… but I dunno I guess there is the appeal of having control over when someone, you know, goes,” he emphasises the last word with a flick of his wrist, “and I’ve heard that holding it in or going while having an orgasm can make it very intense.” 
He looks at you intently, waiting to see some sort of emotion flash across your face. He’s sure it’ll be disgust but is hopeful for something else…
You listen to each word intently. You’d never really thought about everything else surrounding the kink that isn’t just the “piss” part. 
“Huh,” you say after a moment, Eddie still can’t read the expression on your face, “I guess I’d never thought about it like that. But I can see the appeal of being controlled or controlling when someone, you know, goes.” You copy the gesture and tone he used before with a small smile on your lips to try and dissolve some of Eddie’s obvious tension at the conversation. 
Eddie breathes out a short laugh. Releasing the breath he only just realised he’d been holding while waiting for your answer. 
“And it can make your orgasms more intense?” You question. 
“Yeah,” Eddie says with a breathy laugh, still shocked you seem even half interested, “that’s what I’ve heard at least.” 
“Interesting… I’d be lying if I said that part wasn’t at least a bit intriguing”, you widen your eyes dramatically as you say the last word, causing Eddie to laugh slightly. 
Seemingly satisfied with your answer Eddie quickly (a little too quickly) moves on to something to do with his campaign. 
You nod your head and try your best to be interested but you’d be lying if you weren’t a little distracted by the previous conversation. And you’d be lying if it hadn’t surprisingly sparked something inside of you. 
*****
It’s been a few days since you (sort of) had that conversation. Eddie was too worried to bring it up again, fearing it was too soon and that if he pushed too much you’d reject the whole thing completely. 
You on the other hand couldn’t stop thinking about it. You’ve been lying awake most nights since Eddie had mentioned it, asking yourself if it actually was something you’d be interested in. You kept asking yourself the same questions. 
 Do you like Eddie being in control of you? Yes. 
Would you like it if Eddie could somehow give you even more intense orgasms? Definitely yes. 
Do you trust Eddie? More than anything.
Does the idea of Eddie seeing you in such a vulnerable state arouse you? Weirdly, yeah. 
Do you know that he wouldn't have brought it up if it wasn't something he’d be totally comfortable doing? Also yes.  
Has there been more than one time when Eddie has suggested something that you were unsure if you’d like and then you ended up loving it? A million times yes. 
The more you thought about it the more you found yourself actually wanting to try it, but you just didn’t know how to bring it up to him. 
Luckily enough you had your chance a couple days later…
You were straddling Eddie, hands tangled in his messy hair as he gripped your hips. The kiss was getting heated, a mess of tongues and teeth as you both revelled in the feeling of each other. 
Eddie used his grip on you to ground your hips down on his. You both moaned into each other's mouths at the feeling but you couldn’t help the nagging feeling in your bladder at the pressure it created. Eddie kept moving your hips and started to thrust up into you as you both continued to kiss each other with urgency. 
Suddenly, the pressure became too much and you knew you had to use the bathroom before this continued. You pull away from the kiss, smiling and granting Eddie a few more pecks as he chases your lips. 
You go to get up then, earning a pout from Eddie. “Where ya going sweetheart?” 
You giggle at how cute he is. “Just gotta use the bathroom sweet thing then I’ll be back”, you reassure him, turning to walk out of the room. 
Suddenly, you feel Eddie’s hand grab your wrist. You look back at him with your eyebrows furrowed. You meet his lust blown, brown eyes and see a hint of mischief behind them. 
“Eddie?” You question. 
“Do you trust me?” Is all he says in response. 
“Of course I do” 
“Good, strip and lie down for me.” 
“But-“ you go to protest, but the way he’s looking at you, intense and excited, makes you stop. “Okay,” is all you say instead, quickly ridding yourself of your clothes and laying down for him. 
Eddie comes to lay between your legs, big hands start to push your thighs apart but you protest, keeping them locked together. 
“Hey,” he coos, “if you don’t wanna do this just say the word okay? But I promise there’s nothing you could do that would make me any less completely obsessed with you sweetheart.” 
You grant him a small smile and nod your head, slowly opening your legs for him. His eyes bulge at the site in front of him, pointer finger coming out to rub your slick around your folds. 
“Already this wet for me pretty thing?” He asks, “was it from making out with me?… or was it from me not letting you go to the bathroom hmm?” 
You avert your gaze from him, cheeks flushing a dark shade at his question and at what your answer would be. 
He stops his movements then and you look up at him as he cocks his head to the side, waiting for an answer. 
“B-both…” you mumble. 
“Oh my dirty little girl,” Eddie praises as he lies down in front of your cunt. 
“Let me know if this gets too much for you baby, but try and enjoy yourself, ‘kay? Promise it’ll feel amazing.” 
You nod as Eddie’s tongue pokes out and licks a broad strip up your folds. You jolt and gasp at how sensitive you are with the added pressure from your bladder. This earns a smirk from Eddie as he repeats his motions, slowly as he tries to not overwhelm you. 
It doesn’t take long for you to be a whimpering moaning mess. Eddie continues his slow pace but has started to tease and circle your clit with his tongue, on top of licking up your slit. He was definitely right that holding it could make everything more intense. Especially seeing as you're clenching so hard to try and not release all over his face. 
Eddie was completely drunk off the knowledge that you were being such a good girl and holding it all for him. He couldnt stop his hips from rutting desperately against the bed. He could feel a wet patch forming in his boxers as he continued to stimulate himself. 
He was trying his absolute hardest to go easy on you though. Especially as all he wanted to do was make you fuck his tongue so hard you spilled all over his face. He kept that thought tucked away for (hopefully) next time though. 
You were tensing so hard you were surprised you hadn’t cramped by now. You could feel the coil in your stomach about to snap but you were so scared that it would result in the release of your bladder too. 
You started to warn Eddie, feeling very worried you wouldn’t be able to hold. 
“Eddie,” you whine, “I don’t know if I can do it, I-I'm so close but I don’t think I can hold it.” 
“S’okay pretty girl, I know you can, but if you can’t that's okay too. Trust me baby, I will thoroughly enjoy it either way.” 
You go to reply but it’s stifled by a loud moan as Eddie continues his abuse on your clit. All thoughts of stopping leave your head as you get lost in how good Eddie’s tongue feels. 
It doesn’t take long before you feel your legs shake, cumming all over Eddie’s face harder than you ever have before. 
Eddie stimulates you gently through your orgasm (much longer than he usually has to due to the intensity caused by your full bladder). 
It’s a miracle, but you manage to hold it. However, as soon as you cum down from your high you have the intense, almost painful urge to go. 
“Eddie,” you whine, “please I gotta go.” 
He places one last kiss against your clit. “You did so well for me sweetheart, I’m so proud of you. You can go baby.” 
As soon as Eddie gives you permission you’re hurrying to the toilet. You sit down, finally being able to release but before you get the chance to, Eddie pops his head into the bathroom. 
“Hey ahh…” he asks sheepishly, “can I watch?” 
You’re a bit taken aback by his question, but seeing as how aroused holding it for him had made you, you were actually kind of excited to let him watch you finally release it. 
“Sure, um, please can you watch Ed’s.”
At that Eddie was quick to kneel between your legs, keeping his distance but close enough to place a quick kiss to the inside of your knee. 
He was getting even more eager.“Come on baby, let go for me, it’s gonna feel so good, I promise.” 
With Eddie’s encouragement you finally let go, a steady stream flowing out of you. You lean your head back slightly and groan at the feeling of finally releasing your bladder. 
Eddie looks up at you through hooded eyes. He can’t believe you’re letting him see you like this. It’s making his dick strain painfully against his jeans. 
He starts to palm himself as his eyes fix on the yellowish liquid coming out of you. He can feel the wet patch from his precum soaking through his pants. 
You watch his face intently, you can’t deny how turned on you are. From the situation itself and from seeing how turned on Eddie also was from it. 
After a little while the stream starts to die down until the last couple of drops trickle out of you. 
You sigh heavily at the feeling of being empty and go to grab toilet paper to wipe. But before you can even turn away from Eddie he’s hauling you up and bending you over the sink. 
Eddie spits on his hand before spreading it all over his length and teasing the head against your dripping slit. 
“Eddie! ‘S all gross”. 
“You want me to stop?” He smirks, knowing your answer and rubbing his head through a mix of your cum, your pee and new slick that’s formed from Eddie watching you before. 
“N-no,” you stutter, you can feel the wetness dripping down your legs, it feels gross but oh so hot. All you want is for Eddie to finally fill you, you don’t care (actually would prefer) how gross it is. 
“P-please, don’t want you to stop Eddie please.” 
He chuckles darkly as he pushes himself into you. Not stopping until he’s flush with your ass. You moan loudly as he stretches you so well. 
He starts to thrust, setting a brutal pace as he chases his impending high. Already so close just from watching you expel in front of him. 
“God you’re just such a filthy whore for me huh? You like when I watch you being so fuckinh filthy for me don’tcha?” 
“Fuck, yes Eddie. I’m just your filthy whore.” You practically scream. Completely lost in all the pleasure he’s giving you. 
“Tell me baby, tell me that you like it”. 
“I like it! Fuck Eddie I like it when you watch me.” 
“Shiiiit, I know sweetheart. I know you do. God you’ve been so good for me. So, so fucking good.” He’s rambling. Completely intoxicated by your filthy, little cunt sucking him in so well. 
You feel his thrusts start to stutter. “You want it baby? You want me to release inside you? Make you so full from me?” 
“Yes Eddie please. Please fill me up, please!” 
You feel Eddie bury himself inside you. Thick, hot ropes shooting deep in you. Eddie grips your hips so hard you’re sure there’ll be bruises later as he lets out an almost animalistic groan. 
He collapses on your back after. Forehead against your shoulder blade as he presses gentle kisses there. Both of you breathing heavily, relishing in the pleasure for a second… And because neither of you know what to say now. 
You’re the one to break the silence first. 
“Holy shit Eddie,” you laugh. He laughs in return, sweaty forehead still resting on your damp shoulder. 
“Not gonna lie”, you continue, “I think I’m kinda into that.” 
“Really??” He asks, unable to contain his excitement. “Shit, me too.”
“Yeah and I dunno, I might even be up to trying more stuff.” You confess. 
Eddie beams so hard his cheeks hurt. He smothers your back in kisses at your statement. He can’t believe how lucky he is to have a girl like you and someone who trusts him wholeheartedly.
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neewtmas · 10 months
Text
Jealous // Part II
A/N: this is part two to the first fic I wrote in ages. I left the ending of that one open on purpose so that i could write a part 2 if anyone was interested (thanks @poisonquinzell for the request <3) I went into this part with no real idea and the story kinda took over. Writing in first person is a little weird, but also fun. Not really sure what to think, but we’ll see. also if anyone can think of a title that is better (probably not that hard, I hate coming up with titles) let me know!
pairing: george karim x fem!reader
wordcount: 2k
masterlist
taglist: @maraschinomerry @marinalor @oblivious-idiot @galactidiot (if you wanna get added or removed, shoot me a message or an ask :))
part I
I can't stop thinking about what Lucy said. The whole conversation plays in my head over and over as I finally lie in my bed. All traces of tiredness have disappeared. Could she be right? George had started acting weird right after that weirdo had mentioned a date. But jealous? It wasn't like he had asked me out or anything. He doesn't have a right to be angry. But saying that I'm not at least a little happy about the thought of George being jealous would be a lie. I'm more than a little excited. The butterflies in my stomach are going wild, and my cheeks are hot again. A while later, after a lot of tossing and turning, I fall asleep with a stupid grin on my face.
The next morning George doesn't join us for breakfast. Like he promised last night, he sleeps in until the early afternoon, and when he finally comes trotting down the staircase, his mood is just as sour as it was when he went to bed. He doesn't even look at me when he sits down with his breakfast and tea, completely ignoring my presence at the table.
He starts eating in silence, still not acknowledging me, and suddenly I can feel doubts over Lucy's and Lockwood's idea start to creep in. There is no way he is jealous. There must be something else. I must have done something to damage our relationship beyond repair and now he can't even look at me. What exactly did I do? I have truly no idea.
Anxiety starts building up inside me and suddenly it's unbearable to sit next to George in this awkward silence. I jump up, the edge of the table hitting my thighs painfully and George looks at me as his tea spills over the edge of the cup from the movement of the table. "Sorry", I mumble, head down as I rush out of the kitchen.
My hands are sweaty and I wipe them on my pants as I enter the library. It's been my favourite room in the house from my first day of employment at Lockwood & Co. While I usually spent time with George here, this time it's Lockwood who sits in the armchair, aimlessly flipping through a glossy magazine.
He looks up as I enter, brows furrowing as he sees my expression. "You good?", he asks, closing the magazine and placing it on the shelf behind him. I plop myself down on the couch opposite him. "No. He's not talking to me. Like, at all. I think you're wrong, there is no way he's jealous. He must be angry."
Lockwood raised his eyebrows. "You think that is a good argument for your case? And let me tell you, he does treat you differently. You just never see how he looks at you. Or how he saves the last doughnut from me or Lucy so you can have it. Or how he always carries your bags so that you never have to. Or how he -"
Lockwood grins. "He is. But not at you, y/n. I bet he's kicking his ass right now bc he didn't manage to ask you out before this other guy did."
"You think?" I had my doubts about that. "But he never did... anything. He never treated me any differently. He treated me like you treat Lucy!"
"Okay okay! Message received!" I raise my hands defensively, and my face feels hot. Was I that oblivious? Or was Lockwkod messing with me? My favourite kind of doughnut was always the last one in the box, no matter how long it stood unattended in the kitchen. Until now I had assumed that's just bc no one else liked it.
Lockwood smirks at me. "I know how I can prove it to you."
I lean forward, suddenly intrigued despite my doubts. His expression is the kinda look he only has when he's up to no good.
"Tomorrow evening, you'll dress up. You leave for a few hours, but you make sure he sees you and knows that you're gone. You stay out for a while and come back in the evening. He'll assume you went on the date. He'll fold immediately." I'm not quite convinced. Lockwood on the other hand seems very sure of himself. "Try it" he challenges. "I bet you'll be surprised."
He seems to have told Lucy about it immediately because she bothers me the whole next day. Whenever George is in earshot, she starts talking excitedly about how happy she is for me, what she thinks I should wear, if she can do my make-up. And as the day progresses, George's mood takes a turn for the worse. He's stomping around, slams every door he walks through, and wears a scowl whenever I see him. I start to wonder if maybe Lockwood and Lucy were right after all.
As late afternoon approaches, Lucy pulls me up to her room and sits me down on her bed. "You need to trust me", she says as she starts pulling different make-up products out of a bag. "I still don't think this is a good idea", I say weakly, but she gives me a look that tells me I have already lost.
"Have you not seen how he's acting today? He's never in a mood this bad. And he's not stupid, he has picked up that you're going on a date."
I don't have anything to say to that, so I just let her do my make-up and hair. When she is done, she pulls me up and pushes me in front of the mirror she has hanging in her room, smiling at me proudly through the reflection. "You look gorgeous, LISA. George will not know what hit him!"
I have to admit, even though I'm still reluctant, she's right. I do look good.  I have no idea where Lucy learned to do makeup this way, but somehow she managed to accentuate everything I like about myself. Suddenly I'm feeling sad that I'm not actually going on a date.
After we picked out an outfit, it's time to go downstairs, and suddenly I'm so nervous I feel like I might throw up. Up until now, I had humoured Lucy and Lockwood, but it seems much more real now that i'm about to see George. My hands are shaking and my stomach feels like a giant knot.
In front of the closed kitchen door, Lucy stops me. "He's in there", she whispers. "Here's the plan: I go in, you wait a few minutes, then act as if you wanna say goodbye to me, alright?"
I can't help but admire how invested she is in this whole thing. I nod, my throat feeling too constricted to get out a single word. She gives me a thumbs-up and squeezes my hand, then walks into the kitchen.
"Oh hi George", she says cheerfully, as if she hadn't known he would be in there before she entered. George says nothing, and I wring my hands.
It doesn't take much longer than a minute of standing in the hallway and staring at one of the ghost masks that looks grimly back at me before it's too much and I open the door. I only stick my head in because suddenly I'm too self-conscious to stand in front of George the way I look right now.
"I'm leaving now", I say, and my eyes meet George's and I forget everything I wanted to say. He looks at me intently, sitting at the kitchen table with a tea cup raised to his lips.
Lucy rushes over to me, and before I can stop her, she grabs me by the arm and pulls me into the kitchen.
"Doesn't she look gorgeous, George?"
He looks at me in a way I have never seen. His eyes travel over me, down and up and down again and he slowly lowers his cup of tea, eyes never leaving me. His gaze makes a shiver run down my spine, and I feel a blush creeping up my face.
"George?", Lucy asks and he looks like he snapped out of a trance. "Uh yes, yes, of course. Great." He looks down at his hands, but I can see how flustered he is. I look over at Lucy and she smirks at me.
"You're gonna be late if you don't leave now", she says and pulls me out of the kitchen. I just let her, like I have let her pull me around the whole day already.
"See? I told you so. Have fun!", is all she says before she pushes me out the door and closes it behind me. Since it's summer, even at this hour it's still light out. Otherwise, I wouldn't even be able to leave the house, so I guess that's good. I grasp the bag I'm holding more tightly before I set off to my destination. I have packed a book and plan on staying in a cafe for a few hours, just long enough so that it's believable, but not too long so that I can get home safely.
The whole time, I can barely concentrate. The entire day, I've been reluctant, because I was convinced whatever Lockwood and Lucy were seeing was non-existent. But the way George had looked at me in the kitchen - it still gives me goosebumps every time I think about it. But that also means that I have no idea what will happen once I come back.
A few hours later, I make my way back to Portland Row. As I'm standing in front of the door of number 35, a part of me wishes for George to be already in his room. Another part wishes for him to be still in the kitchen. I turn the key in the lock, and my hands already start shaking again, even though I'm not even inside yet.
I enter the hallway as quietly as I can, not wanting to disturb anyone and turn around to close the door carefully.
"You're back." I whip around at his voice and find him standing a few feet away from me, arms crossed, leaning against the door frame.
"Yes."
Neither of us says anything, and neither of us moves. We just look at each other. I don't know what to make of his expression.
"So... how was your date?" He practically spits out the word, and I have never heard him say anything with that much contempt.
"It was fine?" It sounds more like a question, and he raises one eyebrow.
"That's great."
"Do you really think that?" I ask him quietly, and he looks at me for a moment.
"y/n...", he trails off, then pushes himself off the doorframe and takes a few steps towards me until he's standing right in front of me. Overwhelmed by his closeness, I take a step back, my back colliding with the front door. I can feel my heartbeat picking up as he moves just the tiniest bit closer and I have to look up to meet his eyes. His gaze is intense and immediately, my mouth feels dry. What is happening?
"I wish you hadn't gone on that date. He isn't right for you. He isn't good enough."
I swallow hard. "Then who is?", I choke out, barely audible because my throat is so tight.
He raises his hand until it hovers next to my face. "Can I?" he asks, his voice just as quiet as mine. I nod and the next thing I know his hand cups my cheek and his lips are on mine. My mind goes blank as he presses me against the door, caressing my cheek with his thumb, the kiss soft and gentle, almost timid.
"I did not go on a date", I breath out after he pulls away again.
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half-oz-eddie · 7 months
Text
Steve hated ordering food. He had terrible ordering anxiety. Thank god for DoorDash, kiosks and other various apps the overwhelming world of technology offered, that no longer forced him to talk to complete strangers. He’d been taking speech therapy for months because he mumbled and had trouble enunciating his words. He was terribly insecure about speaking in public. His therapist said he was making progress, though.
Recently, a small coffee shop opened up near his house, likely mom and pop owned. It was never crowded, the staff was a small handful of people—two guys and three girls.
Steve wanted to sit in this quaint coffee shop and read his favorite magazine (a physical copy, of course.) Ebooks took away the stimulating pleasure of page flipping, so Steve had to go out and get a copy on the 5th of every month.
With his magazine in hand, he stood outside of the coffee shop, staring at the specials in the window, then scrolling through his phone, searching for the option to order online.
…There wasn’t one.
“Oh man.” Steve sighed to himself. He really really wanted to go inside. He rocked back and forth, humming and tapping his thumb on the side of his phone…contemplating.
It wouldn’t be that hard, right? Just go inside, order a…well nothing too complicated. Maybe a cookie Frappuccino? Simple enough. Sounded tasty. He loved cookies. They were his comfort snack.
He took a deep breath, told himself to be brave, walked inside and took a look around. It wasn’t too bright, the music wasn’t too loud. It was quiet and ambient. Nothing to trigger sensory overload like the other coffee shops. This was nice.
“Hey, can I help you?”
Steve turned his attention to the barista, following his warm, welcoming voice. His eyes were so blue, he observed, before pointedly looking away.
“Uh…can I get a…medium cookie Frappuccino?”
“Name?”
“Steve.”
“You got it.”
Steve fixated on his magazine, waiting for his order.
“Here ya go.”
Steve grabbed the cup, a disappointed frown forming on his face when he read the name on the cup.
Who the hell was “Stan”?
The barista smirked at him, and he forced a smile in return, before finding a table in the back of the coffee shop.
Maybe his speech therapy wasn’t working. Maybe the barista misheard his name because he’s still mumbling.
Maybe he was just nervous.
The Frappuccino was delicious. He planned to try again tomorrow.
The next day was the same. His name was written incorrectly on the cup again!
This time, the barista wrote “Steele”
‘God, I’m such an idiot. Why can’t I say my name right?!’
The third times a charm, hopefully…
Steve went home and practiced saying his name loud and clearly.
“Steve. Steeeve. My name is Steve.”
He recorded himself saying his name and played it back.
It sounded nice and clear to him. He even called his friend Robin who told him he sounded very clear, then wished him good luck.
The big day arrived. This time, he’d make sure the barista heard him clearly.
“Hi!” He greeted in a slightly raised voice, then glanced at the barista’s name tag. “Billy!”
“Hey…want your usual again?”
“Yes!”
“Ookay…”
“Steve. My name is Steve.”
“I know your name, Steve. Why are you talking so loud?” The barista narrowed his blue eyes.
“Because you kept…writing the wrong name on my cup. I thought I was mumbling. I do that. A lot. Bad habit.”
“No—I heard you. I was just teasing you because I think you’re cute. Thought you’d give me shit for it, maybe correct me and then I could comeback with something sly and give you my number. Had it all planned out in my head but you’d just take your cup and sit down. I figured you weren’t interested.” He shrugged.
Steve furrowed his brows, then laughed. “I had no idea what you were doing. I just thought you couldn’t hear me.”
“Sorry about that. I could hear you. And…I’d like to hear you more often. Maybe we can exchange numbers?”
“I’m really not that good with phone calls. Do you like texting?”
Billy shook his head. “I’m not good with texts. Can’t really pick up on tone that well. I suck at it.”
“But…what if I mumble or-or flub my words a lot? Or ramble?” Steve asked worriedly.
“Steve, you’re so cute, I could listen to you say a whole lot of nothing for hours. Plus, I’m a great listener.” He leaned forward on the counter, making Steve’s heart race when Billy’s hand briefly brushed against his. “And I could hear a pin drop. Just gimme a chance?”
Steve nodded with a wide grin. “Okay.”
“Yeah?” Billy was elated.
“Yeah.”
“Still want that frap?”
“I do. It’s really good.”
“Whose name should I write on the cup? Sterling?” Billy teased.
“Stop it!” Steve laughed, relieved to know it was a joke, and not his own fault.
“Hey, can I join you? I’m about to take a break.”
“Sure. I like to sit here and read magazines. I have an extra car magazine if you’re interested.“
“You kidding?” Billy smirked. “I fucking love cars. I’ll be right with you.”
Steve sat at his usual table, excitedly rubbing his hands together.
Turns out, that speech therapy worked a lot better than he thought.
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bl4cktourmaline · 5 months
Text
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FLUFF ALPHABET
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♬ yue is typing...
↻hii hii anon!! Sorry this one took me a while, he is pretty new to me so I was having a hard time to imagine what kind of scenarios with him, I tried my best but I really hope you enjoy the story though <;33
⇄ Shinonome Akito X Gender Neutral! Reader
■ Fluff, Soft Akito!!
► ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Fluff Alphabet with Shinonome Akito...
✿﹕ ︵︵✧₊︵︵ꕤ₊˚︵︵˚ೃ ︵︵ ૮꒰˵• ᵜ •˵꒱ა ﹕ɞ
💬 ┊C onfession - Who confessed first? How was the confession like?
💌 ┊. . .
Akito would be the first one to confess between the two of you, he just couldn't wait for you to take the first step especially when he wasn't sure if you feel the same way...
At the back yard of the school building, you come across the very boy who called for you to come here... though he tried to seem confident but you could tell that he wasn't okay...
"...Akito?"
"Hey"
"..."
"...what?"
You smile brightly, walking towards him as you slowly went to grab his hands "You don't have to be so polite about it, I like the gruff you more anyways"
"...I don't know if that was supposed to be a compliment or an insult..."
"Oh? What do you think?" You smirks, kissing his right cheek before taking off "See you tomorrow!"
...
He place a hand on his cheek as your figure slowly disappear out of sight as he just stood there in disbelief...
Why you sneaky little fox...
He will get his revenge on you tomorrow for leaving him hanging like that. 
💬 ┊D reams - How would they picture their future with their new s/o?
💌 ┊. . .
What kind of future Akito picture with you is wishing for understanding and loyalty in your relationship since he is a street performer, his schedule is pretty tight and he might not have some time to hang out on some occasions.
"Hey...I wouldn't have time to hang out this weekend..."
"Oh, a performance with your group is coming up soon I'm assuming?"
"Yeah"
"Okay, When is it? Can I come and watch you guys?"
With you supporting his dreams seems like a sweet dream that it's almost feel unreal at times but you're always there to remind him that it's in fact real...
💬 ┊M use - Are you their muse for inspiration ?
💌 ┊. . .
Yes, a lot actually but he usually ask for his friend, Toya's help whenever inspiration for a song strike him. If you ask him if the song was about you, he wouldn't admit it in front of you even if you ask him nicely.
"Come on, tell meeee..."
"No"
"Not even for a kiss?"
"..."
".... Please?"
"...No"
He would turn around and walk off as if embarrassed with you always following him behind to keep pestering him for answers.
💬 ┊Z izz - Are they the type to cuddle during naps?
💌 ┊. . .
Oh, definitely he is though he hates it to admit it so openly that he is a cuddlebug but the way he is asking for your affection doesn't help to hide it though...
After a lunch, you were reading a magazine on the sofa when Akito joined you.
"Hey, (name)"
"Mmm...?"
"Is that magazine interesting?"
"Yeah, pretty interesting"
"Hmm..." He leaned on your shoulder, pressing you against the sofa which you didn't question and keep on reading the magazine anyways. After a pause, he spoke again "Hey, (name)"
"Yeees?"
"Mind if I switch on the TV?" 
"Oh, sure, go ahead"
He grabbed the remote control and switched the TV on. You couldn't help noticing him flipping back and forth between cooking shows and sport shows to which you were confused, nothing really catching his interest?
Suddenly, he put his head on your lap.
"What's up?"
"Nothing but you're ignoring me..."
The poor boy is just very reluctant on asking for cuddles openly since it's so embarrassing so please pay attention to him when he is trying his best...
꒷꒦꒷꒦⋆⑅˚₊┈ • ┈ ✿・ʚ ฅ•ﻌ•ฅ ɞ ・✿ ┈ • ┈₊˚⑅⋆꒷꒦꒷꒦
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