#|| this will probably happen and i fucking hate it!
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I'M FYCKING CRYSING AT THE MOIST CRITIACL FUCKINF HELL. THE 30 SECOND MEME CLIP OF SOMEONES HOME BEING DESTROYES?? THE COMPLIMATION VIDEOS OF ONE RANDOM DUDE CASUUALY CATCHING SUPERHERO DRAMA BY SHEER LUCK?? THE DOCUMENTARY VIDEOS INVESTIGATING "MODERN POLITICS" WITH ALIENS AND THE WAYNE MURDER TRADEGIES??? I LOVE YOU OP YOU ARE SO GOOD
the people wanted more youtube worldbuilding ^^
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#unironically#this makes the world more alive#I can totally imagine someone's uncle watching lex luthor's pr team video channel and huffing about Superman#People would talk about celebrities and their pasts... especially if they're tragic and constantly in the public eye#people would start laughing about the fucked up situations they get in with in the superhero world#That guy posting the video of hating his life [because it really is falling apart around him] is really realistic#His video specifically just got popular... probably because it happened to be recorded in a humorous manner#Probably will get a tiktok or youtube short video about his current life. Maybe had a go fund me afterwards#And if you had a god in your backyard suddenly-- talking about the dumbest shit... i would post and watch that so fast#This breathes life into the comics#I hope I see more.#also it's really fucking funny
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i'm making myself laugh thinking about this but I wholeheartedly believe madame morrible absolutely HATES the thought of glinda and elphaba being together like the mere mention of gelphie would probably send her into immediate cardiac arrest and it's not even because she's homophobic or anything I just fully believe she dislikes glinda so so much she's just like this is absolutely NOT happening in my house.
glinda and elphaba are having their gay ass moment and she's like "I sense a disturbance in the force; the wind is telling me those fucking lesbians are at it again."
like IK this woman hates to see glinda's fruity ass coming for several reasons but first and foremost I believe it's because she's so fucking ANNOYED by how much elphaba loves and cares for her, like this pink bitch is throwing a wrench in her plans just by EXISTING and being herself.
and she can't even really do anything to glinda because it'll make elphaba upset and she really can't have that so she just has to sit there and be like
#wicked#wicked 2024#shitpost#my hand slipped oh no#madame morrible#glinda upland#elphaba thropp#gelphie#imagine being her for a second yk#like that scene just before the ballroom scene where elphaba comes to her#asks her to include glinda in their classes#and threatens to QUIT if she doesn't do it right that instant#and you're there like girl wtf???#i thought we hated her why are you up in her ass rn???#do you think she saw whatever sort of horrible homoerotic tension they had going on during loathing#and she was like yk what this is fine i can deal with this im sure this won't lead to anything#and cue elphaba banging on her door at 2am#i would've taken a bottle of aspirin and gone to bed like BYE#can't deal with these damn lesbians again#i just KNOW she was cursing glinda out#also again madame morrible's plan hinged on elphaba being so starved for love and approval she'd do whatever she and the wizard wanted#BUT WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN SHE GETS LOVE AND VALIDATION FROM SOMEWHERE ELSE#LIKE THIS WAS NOT ACCORDING TO PLAN#WHERE DID THE PINK LESBIAN COME FROM???
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To The Devil I Know
dbf!joel miller x younger!reader
summary: your infamous girl's trip with your best friend sarah gets crashed by his overprotective dad. but what is the perfect way to leash all your anger out?
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving), brat taming, it's pussy spanking time again bc i do in fact like it a lot, praise/daddy kink sprinkled somewhere, reader calls him mr. miller A LOT, exhibition kink (v nasty), degradation kink (he calls her little slut), pantie sniffing (joel's kind of a perv, ay), dirty talk (they have a sentence awaiting in horny jail), y/n grinds on joel's nose bc yeah i too want that, this is contradicting but lwk sub!joel bc that man's touch starved as HELL, may do a part two idk pls give it love, dad!bod joel bc i say so (yummy), no angst (wtf dilf-docs? the angst gods are so pissed off rn)
word count: 7,195 words
side note: this request got me HOOKED the moment i opened it and since i'm currently on a pedro hyperfixiation rn, we need to put the mental illness to good use. also, this is lwk based on the song by suki waterhouse devil i know! :) i'm seeing that i have two joel fics with devil in the title btw something something abt nickels and not being a lot but weird it happened twice also WE HIT 300 FOLLOWERS??? (and its 1am and i have to wake up at 4am is anyone surprised atp...)
"Sarah!" you shout, "get your ass out here you looser!"
It's probably eight in the morning, and here you are, honking and shouting in the middle of the quiet calm suburbs.
When you spot her curly head running towards you in a rush, you know she's pissed.
"Stop screaming!" she shouts back, "my neighbours will hate me"
You've known Sarah since you were kids. When you first moved to Texas, she was the only one who spoke to you in school. You grew up with her among white picket fences and scrapped knees, mantaining the friendship even as you moved away, until your return for college.
"Why would I even care? I don't live here!" you joke from the driver's seat, hopping off and giving her a hug. "I'm sorry but I can't help it. I'm just so excited for this trip, we've been planning it for ages!"
You keep talking excitedly about your plans, not noticing how her face falls.
"Yeah, about that..."
"You girls ready?" a third voice enters the picture, definitely not belonging to a girl.
"Uh, Sarah" you breath in, "Why the fuck is your dad here?"
In all his glory: Joel Miller, a guy you haven't seen in forever, too busy living in the dorms, girl dates with Sarah often out of her house. You wanted to explore the world: you weren't ten anymore, and the suburbs lost all of it's appeal they had when you were the age of Barbies and drawing on chalk.
"Listen, y/n. I tried, I really tried. But as soon as I opened my mouth, he started to pack his bags"
"Isn't your dad always busy at work?" you inquire, another one of the reasons Joel's face isn't a fresh memory in your head.
"That's part of the problem. He took all of the pending vacations he had at once" she sighs, sounding as dissapointed as you are. "I understand if you don't want to go"
"Are you being serious right now?" you chuckle dryly. "No, absolutely not. I saved for this trip, packed my favorite outfits and aced all my classes so my parents would allow me. Nothing is going to ruin this for me: not you, not your dad. So we'll go and we'll have all the fun we planned, yeah?" you express firmly, holding her hands. "We will have our girl summer, no matter what. Even if we have to ignore the elephant in the room..."
"Did you just call me fat?"
You turn around, and there he is: the uninvited. Joel Miller's aged face stands before you, strong arms flexing under the pressure of a couple of suitcases.
"No" you reply back, "just a nuissance"
He chuckles at your response, amused. "If you thought I'd let my babygirl go alone with you to the beach and get shit-faced drunk, you're not as smart as I remember, y/n"
Your name would always be on his tongue to call you out. Y/n, don't do that. Y/n apologize to the neighbours. Y/n, slow down. Y/n, don't be so stubborn. You were always a troublemaker, and his lips would only know how to pronounce your name if to berate you. But now, as his mouth says your name with a newly learned tone, dripping with dare and amusement, you can't help but feel a fire ignite that burns your skin.
"Dad!" Sarah calls out, taking you out of your thoughts. She flushes in embarrasment, and you scoff at the idea of giving too much of your time to think about Mr. Miller of all people. "I'm not ten anymore, we'll be just fine"
"You're barely of legal age!" he counters back. "What if somethin' was to happen to you, huh? I'd never forgive myself"
You get annoyed at his over-the-top reactions. What did he think you were gonna do? The wildest thing you had in mind was getting drunk while sitting in the sand. Not even in the water! You may be a wild spirit, but stupid you're not.
"Look, Mr. Miller" he cocks his head to the side, daringly so, almost as if waiting for you to try. "I don't know what you're thinking, but this isn't Driveway Dolls" he looks at you confused, so you try again, "Or Thelma and Louise, whatever suits your fucking old ass. Alright? This is a girls trip, heard that? Just two bestfriends enjoying their youth and summer without boys around to ruin it for them"
"Boys?" he laughs. "Too bad, then, 'cause sweetheart, I'm a man"
Your breath hitches, but you're not going to let him win; you always need to have the last word.
"Well, man up and let your daughter be free for once!"
Sarah covers her face with her palms, clearly knowing her dad more. This is a lost battle.
"Stop, y/n. Please. Dad's impossible to bend"
"He's ruining our trip!" you protest, feeling like a child throwing a tantrum.
"Take it or leave it" he leans against his truck, crossing his arms. Your eyes dart to the strained fabric of his sleeves, and when he chuckles, you don't know if he noticed or it's because of his imminent victory.
"Fine!" you throw your hands in the air, dramatically so. "Welcome on board, intruder"
Joel Miller smiles, and maybe it's the rare sight, not even common back in the day, that makes your heart skip a beat.
"And we're taking my truck"
"Are you being serious right now?!" Was this man going to take away all your freedom?
He laughs, mockingly. Rage bubbles in your chest, along something darker you aren't going to admit just yet.
"There is no way my daughter is going on a fucking hatchback to the beach"
You try to distract yourself talking to Sarah in the backseat, but her dad's prying glances time to time from the rear view mirror have you shifting uncomfortably on your seat.
He's persistent, always has been. Joel Miller, just as Sarah said, wasn't a man who could be bent. You'd remember thinking he was a sort of superhero: unbreakable. Whenever Sarah needed help, a pair of strong arms would be there, ready to take the weight off of her shoulders. He was now older, as you have noticed: grey and wrinkles sprayed all over his face. And now, the worst part of it all:
Age had made him infuriatingly attractive.
Unfair, you think, that a man so bitter that only seemed to worry and nag, was blessed with the rare quality of aging like wine. You can deny it anymore: whatever Joel Miller has now that he didn't before is working on you like a lovesick spell.
You look again to the front, just in time to catch one of his subtle (not really) stares. You keep the eye contact, only he tears away his gaze first, something akin to regret and fear circling on his warm brown orbs. The fire from before cracks inside of your belly, and the anticipation begins.
If he was going to ruin your trip, you might as well return the favor.
"M' gonna stop for gas" he says after some minutes of silence, deviating towards a gas station.
You take the opportunity to get out of the truck to strech your legs. Sarah does so too, but then whispers into your ear:
"Tell my dad I need to go to the bathroom. Don't want him worrying"
As if you'll talk to him. Despite that, you nod and she leaves you alone with her annoying dad.
"Reckless too, huh?" Joel appears by your side, almost making you drop your phone. "You know you're not s'pposed to use the damn phone on a gas station? Good thing I ain't let my daughter go alone with you"
You put your phone down. "Reckless? I know what I'm doing" but you sound nervous, for some reason.
"You haven't changed at all, have you?" Joel says, his voice surprisingly soft.
You heart gets stuck in your throat at the sudden shift, "I suppose not"
"I get that you hate me" he confesses, done filling the tank, "but I couldn't let the two of you go alone"
Your cheeks turn pink at the accusation, "I don't hate you"
He laughs, and the sound has something stirring in the lower of your belly. Why is Joel Miller of all people provoking feelings in you no other boy has ever provoked? You're used to playing with boys as you please, and you come to realize that's where the difference lies: you don't know how to handle a man.
A man so strong, your eyes don't leave him as his arms flex while pumping the gas, the delicious peek his simple white shirt gives you not going unnoticed; droplets of sweat on his temple, sliding down his jawline then getting lost down the crook of his neck. You lick your lips on instinct, horrified when you realize what you've just thought and done.
"Damn right you don't"
You could say you've reached some kind of truce, but then Sarah comes back, and when you look at Joel again, he's reverted to that annoying apathic state of his, but instead of bothering you, it only makes you want more.
"Hey" he says to Sarah, "where you went?"
"I had to pee, dad. Relax" she dismisses, shooting at you a can-you-believe-it look.
He walks away, ready to jump in the driver's seat again, when he turns around to whisper to Sarah:
"Don't ever leave me again" tone stern, "not with her"
But you hear.
You arrived late, the sun hiding behind the large body of water that seemed infinite.
"I can't believe we missed the first sunset!" you whine. "It was going to look so good on my Instagram stories..."
"This generation and their problems" Joel scoffs, taking the suitcases to the house you've rented for the next two days.
The answer is right at the tip of your tongue, but you decide to be the bigger person and remain quiet. If he wants to play, you better play smart.
"Dad, please" Sarah calls him out, and you have to hide a laugh. "Don't fight with y/n"
"I ain't doing shit" he sneers, crossing his bulking arms.
Sarah walks past him, muttering against his childishness. That angers Joel, who tries to remain cool.
"I know you hate me" you suddenly appear by his side. Your vainilla scent gets up on his nose, invading his body of you. "I just think you should try, for Sarah"
"I don't hate you" he answers, and now it's your turn to laugh.
"Yeah? Doesn't seem like it, Mr. Miller" it comes out before you can stop it, and there's something dark lurking behind his brown eyes piercing through you.
"I don't" sounding more sure this time. Serious too.
"You'll have to prove that"
You enjoy the surprise on his face and the light pink sprinkled across his cheeks.
"Prove that?"
You nod, finding all of this suddenly funny.
"Hmh, you heard me. Prove it, Mr. Miller. That you don't hate me"
But before he can respond, your bestfriend is back.
"Y/n, come on! You need to check the house. It has a shared balcony!" Sarah beams giddy.
You let her excitement infect you, taking her hand as you go inside the house. Joel stays back, your words ringing on his ears.
On the other hand, Sarah and you check the room together.
"Look this" she points at one of the mirrors in the room: it has details that remind you of the sea. "Isn't it cute?"
"It is" you agree, "we should take a picture"
"Okay. But use your phone" she says, "mine died on the road"
You're about to pull it out when you feel your pockets empty.
"It's... not here"
"You might have left it in the car" she tries to help.
"Yeah" you try to remain level-headed, "I'll go search for it"
You return to the truck, pressing your head against the window. Just like your friend guessed, it's there, abandoned on the seat.
"Lost somethin'?"
You gasp, turning around. Joel Miller's face is centimeters away from yours, breathing heavily as his body cages your smaller frame against the truck's doors.
"My phone" you find your voice after what feels like eternity, "it's inside the car"
"Need help with that?" his voice sounds low, whisper easily to be confused with a growl.
You don't know how to answer, scared for the first time of where your mouth could take you. So your solution is to nod, and step aside for him to open the car.
"There you go" he's dropping it in your hands, fingers lightly brushing yours. There's a shiver down your spine despite the cool weather, and you know damn well it's all his fault. He may feel it too, by the way he takes a step back, putting some distance.
"Need anything else?" but it feels like a slap to the face, as if he's challenging you to speak what you've been thinking but are too coward to do when he stands before you.
"No" you mentally slap yourself for how pathetic you sound, "this is all I needed, Mr. Miller. Thanks"
You look back one last time, despite it all. And there it is: that same look he gave you in the car.
"Anytime" but it falls deaf to your ears, as you basically ran away from him.
Him and his imposing presence, enough to make your legs tremble and your mind to stop working. Him and his smell, that brings you back to simpler times and reminds you of a a secret place in the woods, musk getting under your skin. Him and his breath, hitching when you touch hands. Him and his beating heart, just as loud as yours.
"Took you long" Sarah comments when you return, "I was already falling asleep"
She doesn't know or suspect, you tell yourself, but that doesn't stop you from feeling sick.
That night, as Sarah lays by your side and you try to sleep, all you can think about is his big hands, the lingering feeling of a warm touch. And then Joel, stepping back―coming to his senses, as if something is holding him back.
Anytime.
You can't help but wonder what stopped him.
Days have blurred between drinks by the poolside, waves crashing, wet sand in your fingers and sun carressing skin.
Despite what happened, Joel remains in the shadows, letting you and Sarah enjoy your trip in peace. You may be spending time with your bestfriend, but his presence hangs in the air, impregnated with his strong pine and whisky smell, looming over you like a shadow; suffocating, like his scent is all you can breath. You hate how your mind keeps going back to him, because despite your inicial claims to ruin him, that wasn't the purpose of this vacation, yet Joel seems to have infected you with a need that corners your mind to think of him and him only. The greed you feel is unnatural, like a spell has been cast upon you. He may be far, just as you wanted, and you should enjoy that, but it's that very same distance that is driving you insane.
Today, you and Sarah decided to go diving and then play volleyball.
The day ends, the sun sets, and so does the tiredness. But as Sarah's snores fill your ears, you toss around the bed, trying to conceal sleep to no avail.
Staring at the ceiling, you kept drifting back to Joel, mind wondering and heart racing at thoughts of strong arms caging you, warmth in your body that the breeze creeping through flowing curtains fails to provide.
The sound of wood creaking jolts you awake. His silhoutte is hard to miss, and your eyes follow it cross your bedroom. You pretend to be asleep, his scent up your nose as he walks in careful measured steps, trying not to wake you up. He looks back at Sarah, and the moonlight betrays him when it shines over his eyes, revealing an adoration that gnaws your chest.
He keeps walking, until he reaches the shared balcony. It's then that you make a choice, heart pounding in your chest as you race yourself from bed, going his way.
You go outside, finding him resting his arms on the balcony, facing the beach in silence. Soft waves crash against the wet sand, but not even that can overpower the sound of your beating heart.
"What're you doin' here?" he's asking, even if you haven't moved from your spot. Seems like your friend wasn't joking about his heightened senses, despite his old age. "Thought y'were 'sleep"
"Well, Sarah is a fast sleeper" you answer, walking to his side.
"She sure is" and the faintest of a smile appears on his face.
Joel Miller is a mystery to you: the most closed off man you've ever met, hiding behind his apparent apathy that only seems to be gone whenever Sarah is around. She's the apple of his eye, and those soft traces of a more tamed character that come to light have truly picked your interest, begging for more crumbs that will help you puzzle who he really is: he, that is as handsome as a mystery. The worst is, you don't know what attracts you more.
But you won't let him win.
"Mr. Miller?"
"Yeah?"
"Were you married?"
He looks at you, dark eyes partly iluminated by the moonlight.
"Aren't you a bit too young to be bold?"
"And aren't you too hot to be all alone?" you reply in an instant, rendering him speechless.
He chuckles, but it sounds defeated rather than amused.
"Trust me, kid" he's back at facing the ocean. Goddamn coward. "This isn't what you want"
"Don't call me kid" you berate, almost repulsed at it. "I'm twenty one"
He scoffs. "Still hella young"
"But I know what I want" a wavering hand ready to trace over his pecs, but he's stopped you before it descends. Before it's too late.
"You don't" he assures, grip on your hand stronger, without knowing how much you're enjoying this. Or maybe he does. "See? That's the problem with you kids: you think you do, but you don't"
You loose your patience.
"Tell me then, Mr. Miller. Would a kid do this?"
Taking the distraction, the same hand flies now to grop his dick, and to your surprise, it's already hard.
"Seems I'm not the only one who doesn't know what they want"
"Stop" he warns, hissing when your eager fingers unbuckle his belt. It's huge, for some reason, and you can't help but feel an ardent throb at the thought of grinding on it.
When your eyes look at Joel, he swears he sees you devilishly smirk, almost as if you were mocking him.
"Stop?" you bite your lip, feigning innocence as doe eyes look where dark ones had done before. "If that's what you want, you aren't even trying"
You kneel down, and the position gives you the perfect side of his adam's apple bobbing in a nervous gulp. He grows insecure under your intense stare, breath hitching when the wind hits his now free member as you pull down his underwear, revealing it hard and leaking with precum. You laugh delighted, with victory, and he finds himself trapped between the moon and your games, drowning on a sea feet away.
"I think I know what you want"
"How? You don't even know what you want" barely fighting it.
Your fingers grace over his soft abdomen, tracing down his belly and happy trail. Your teeth nip at the skin scattered with soft rosy lines, peppering the skin with fluttering kisses to entertain your mouth until your digits touch his hard cock. Joel whines, squirming, and you're delighted with the receptiveness, needy sounds escaping his lips.
You haven't even started yet.
"You're right, I don't" you agree. "All I know is you piss me off and that you ruined our trip, so I'm gonna take my anger out on you one way... or another"
You take your first lick, savouring the dark red head. His hips buck, a shaky gasp robbed from his chapped lips.
"Fuck" he exhales weakly, lost against the sound of water.
"Don't worry, Mr. Miller. I'll take good care of you" admiring his girth. He looks down on you, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Joel can't lie and say he isn't fascinated with the way you look at him, not believing so much appetite can fit in such a small young body. Not even his partners before you, had looked at him like he was the best thing in the world, and now here you were: the loud-mouthed brat best friend of his daughter, sucking his cock while Sarah slept just a few meters away. Just yersteday he was bickering with you, not standing your spoiled attituted and juvenile spirit that can't be tamed and won't shut up. Hell, you had even disrespected him. But here he is, not being able to find the words or actions to stop you: because he doesn't want to.
It was all so fucked up.
But then you're closing your lips around his swollen head, and he knows there's no point in fighting it anymore, his whole body urging him to give in.
"Oh, fuck" he pants, getting all worked up as you take him deeper. "Keep goin'. You're doin' a great job, sweetheart"
The praise gets to you, even if not needed.
Your tongue swirls, running the muscle with wet slides, up and down, tip to base, some pressure applied. You proceed to take in his balls, feeling him tense up. You wanted to mock him badly, but your mouth was full of his dick, so that wasn’t happening.
"D-don't stop" he pleads, sounding more like a whine.
He's deep enough that it hits your throat. You've never been this greedy, but also, have never tried with a dick so big. You feel him in the roof of your mouth, your lips at the base of the tip, brushing against skin. Joel can't keep up: breath hitching, moans ragged and consumed, barely standing if it wasn't for your hands digging in his thighs for support.
You keep building pace, seeing Joel's face scrunch up.
"M' close" his voice comes out strained, his head tilting back, wild soft locks from before now plastered against his forehead, dripping with sweat. His muscles tense, you can feel it, and it's just about time before he's coming inside your mouth.
You want it. To taste more of him, who you claim to hate but feels oh so good. Strong, just as his presence.
"So good, fuck, you're so good" in a tone so needy and desperate. It falls out of his lips, followed by more unintelligible praises dripping from his tongue.
And then, in a shaky breath, lost to the wind:
"Y/n"
You gasp, and he feels it, the air ticklish on his sensitive skin.
Joel said your name.
Your name, in a way it had never been said before. Uttered like a prayer, submerged in devotion. Your name, melting into his moans, deep within him, the calling full of a primal desire. The experience is intoxicating, making you crave more.
Joel comes with a groan, head falling back. Your name dies on his lips as his hips thrust up with your lips closing in. Thick spurts of cum mix with saliva in the back of your throat. You pull out, a string of saliva still connecting you to his dick. He looks down on you, body shaking as much as yours. Without breaking eye contact, he wipes some of the mess drooling from your lips, his calloused thumbs carresing you with a softness you didn't think was possible. The contrast makes you falter a bit, and you know Joel notices.
"There you go" your voice comes out hoarse, avoiding his eyes, "now you know what you want"
He chuckles, giving you a hand to stand up. As you raise to your feet, his face is barely inches away from yours. You can see the lines time has marked across his face, the grays coloring hair you remember to be brown, and those eyes―piercing through you like they know you better than you know yourself.
"But do you?"
Joel Miller doesn't know what is regret.
He didn't feel it when Sarah arrived unexpectedly at the ripe age of twenty, forcing him out of college. He didn't feel it when Sarah's mother left him alone to raise his daughter all by himself, aware he had tried it all to make it work. He surely didn't feel it when you came back after leaving Texas, long gone the childlike wonder and features that made him see you as an extension of his daughter, his gaze lingering a bit too long on this familiar face in a beautiful blooming new body.
But this is different, and he isn't sure if, for the first time, he's finally known what is regret.
Joel Miller also doesn't know when to back out of a fight.
He remember his brother Tommy, practically begging to let go of some asshole that dared to pick up on him, knuckles bloody no matter if he was young then and old as stubborn now, the same red painted across his willfull hands.
But now those hands prickle and sweat, no matter how much he runs them over the fabric of his jeans. And now, as your dangerous stare pierces through him across the small table, Sarah oblivious to the game as she quietly munchs her cereal, Joel Miller backs down, his gaze the first to look away.
He realizes just now why he was so afraid to look up to the sky after you left. The same stars that stared back from the high of the dark night are akin to the ones dancing in your eyes.
"Mr. Miller" your voice breaks his train of thoughts.
"Where's Sarah?" he asks in a panicked voice, realizing you've been left alone.
"Brushing her teeth" you answer, slightly taken back by his tone. "We were going out today, remember?"
Ah, yes. A little tour to an island not to far away from there.
"M' not goin'. Sorry, kid" he's decided. Before you can speak, Sarah returns and asks the question herself.
"M' tired. That's all" but it sounds rather an excuse.
"Are you sure, dad?" Sarah presses, not sure why he had changed his mind at the last minute.
"Yeah" he insists, all while avoiding those eyes of yours, unsatisfied and searching for answers of questions qithout a voice. "You girls go and have fun"
So you do.
You go and feel like you're inside of Mamma Mia (your favorite movie; both of you learned ABBA's discography thanks to it, something that offended your parents), the sun reflecting in the water, the little island with its green and sun, and the flowers that dust their petals into the shore where your boat arrives.
But when the trip is over and soft waves rock your return, you think of Joel.
You think you should feel at least a little ashamed of becoming so obssesed with a man in barely two days, who, on top of it all, is your bestfriend's dad. But then you remember the taste of him inside your mouth, how his dick had rasped against your throat, his seed warm in the tip of your tongue. And then his eyes, promises meant to be broken locked away behind tides of fear, that do an excellent job of reminding you how easy is to drown; to fall for how in hazel flickers, Joel seems he'd give you the world.
"Let's get drunk" you deadpan once you're back at the shore.
Sarah laughs at your determination, then realizes you're serious.
"What?"
"Yeah, it's our last day here" you reason. "Besides, your dad isn't here. What's he going to say?"
If you sound between angry and dissapointed at his absence, Sarah remains quiet.
"We're running away" she tries one last time, but by the look in your eyes, you've made your choice.
"Are we? We're twenty-one, Sarah. We can do whatever the fuck we want" you feel rebellious all of a sudden, "what? Don't you wanna give this trip a grand finale?"
So you crash into the nearest bar and waste the night away, drinking and dancing. But you're ordering a drink you don't like, and in every glass of whiskey down your throat, his name hangs in the air like the memory of his smell, locked behind a vault as if it's too sacred to say. But when Sarah gets a boy to dance and lends his friend to you, you wish there was rough where soft meets your skin, and chapped when you kiss his lips. Your body burns ablaze with sweat, alcohol and regret, a dangerous combination that makes you pull Sarah out of the bar when you feel you're about to black out. She complains, but you're set on making it to the bed before your eyelids shut.
Maybe it's because you always had what you wanted, or maybe it was the forbidden, but whatever reason had pushed you in Joel's orbit, refused to let you go.
And maybe you're imagining his voice, scolding you like a kid. Maybe you're seven again, and in the shadows of the bed, you've gone back to your childhood days. Y/n, y/n, y/n. That sick berating tone of his, acting like you're stupid and small.
"Fucking brat" he spats, drops of his angry scowl landing on your cheek. You then realize he's hovering over you, and it's real, not a product of your foggy mind. So you stand up, sobering up a bit, when he charges back again. "Makin' my daughter pass out? What the fuck were you thinkin'? Could've ended in the middle of the street. You're s'pposed to go to the damn island and then come back!"
Your mouth tastes like sand, but even if you've passed out a couple hours ago, the fire doesn't die. So your tongue is back, finding it's voice to say:
"Well, if you hadn't left us alone, this wouldn't have happened"
He chuckles, darkly. Humorless. "I see"
"What?" you challenge, a shiver down your spine that looses itself somewhere else.
"You got my daughter drunk as revenge"
You're mortified at the accusation, the remnants of alcohol now long gone of your system.
"Do you think I'd risk me and my friends' safety for you? Out of all people, you?" not caring if you sound bitter.
The truth sticks to your skin as uncomfortably as the sweat.
"I dunno, sweetheart. That's why I'm asking you" the pet name rolls effortlessly, in a rough voice that creates a wet spot in your panties. He gets closer, and you can see the tremble of his lips as he lets out a shaky breath. "Be a good girl and answer"
"I won't tell you shit" you spit.
"You little mix, thinkin' you can run your tongue like it ain't been 'round my cock before" you look like a deer caught in headlights, and Joel's enjoying this more than he should. "That's right, what'd Sarah think knowing her friend's a little slut for'er daddy's cock?"
The electric current that crosses your body sparks the fire of the woods hiding behind his auburn storms.
Now you're feeling high on a forest fire. You want the flames to engulf you, even if ashes is all there'll be left.
"Tell me you want this" his forehead clashes against yours, and the whole world falls silent, except for your ringing ears.
"I want this" and he's just as surprised as you are by the unwavering conviction. "I need you, Mr. Miller"
You try to get up, but he pushes you with full force back into your bed. Then, the base creaks, and he's on top of you, his weight pressing you against the mattress.
"What are you-"
"You think I'd let you get away easily? Have things your way? Naive lil' girl" he tuts, "I'll punish you for that"
As on cue, drowned out snores are heard from your side.
"But, Sarah-" you try to protest, his body caging you under his mercy.
"That'll mean you're behavin', right?" he runs his thumb across your lips, gently pulling them down, as if the chase was thrilling as eating the prey. "I know you don't want to wake her up and see her slut of a friend bangin' her daddy"
You tense, remaining silent at the threat, even if your body reacts other ways.
"Good girl"
He’s quick to get rid you of your shorts.
"Fuckin' hell" he murmurs against your neck, the clothing discarded somewhere in the room. "Wearin' this little shitty bottoms to rail me up, knowin' damn well when to bent and get me hard. Been thinkin' of takin' them off ever since you wore 'em first"
The confession makes you whine, and Joel's delighted by the sound, and just how putty you are under his big rough hands.
"Let's see what we got here" his large hands caress your thighs as he settles between your legs. "Black lace, baby? Such a fuckin' tease. Wore 'em for me?"
You shake your head, but his calloused digits dig on the plush skin of your thighs, making you wince at the pain.
"Don't lie to me, sweetheart. You'd said you'll be a good girl, yeah?" you nod, soaking wet, painfully so.
"Yes, I'll be"
"Show me your manners, then" he presses light kisses on the insides of your thighs, close to where you need his graying beard to tickle, "and I'll show you mine"
"Just eat me, Joel" you demand breathlessly. "Fuck. Need you, Mr. Miller, so bad"
"And why should I reward you, impatient little slut? Eager to get daddy's filthy mouth between that pretty pussy" Joel bites the inside of your thigh, and it takes all of your strength to avoid becoming a moaning mess. "You've been bad, sweetheart. A brat"
You deny it, but his head dissappears between your legs, licking the wet spot on your panties. You squirm under the teasing of his tongue, legs shutting close on instinct. You drown a whimper in your palm as he yanks your panties away.
"Don't do anything I ain't tell you to" demanding, and if you weren't this horny and out of your mind, you'd probably be scared. "There'll be consequences"
You try to obey. But then his nose, that big nose you want covered in your slick as you grind off of it between your legs, sniffs your panties. He gives it one big sniff, and then two, fingers going white as he holds the piece of fabric with too much force, shoving it on his face.
"Ye'r too fuckin' sweet, I'll give you that" he mumbles in a drunken haze. "Need to taste that drippin' cunt of yours 'night"
The bed creaks again, or maybe it's the sound of his bones starting to give in to old age, but Joel is sucking your clit, tongue pushed inside of your puffy folds. You hide a moan against his lips, hands traveling to grip his hair.
"Joel" you breathe out.
He parts your folds easily, and before you know it, a rugged finger circles your entrance. Your back arches, and then he leaves place for his mouth again, flicking your sensitive core with his tongue. A moan a little too loud escapes your lips, making his eyes darken when the bed next to you shifts, Sarah tossing in her sleep.
"You dumb fuckin' brat. What'd I say?" his hand slams against your pussy, a sting you've never felt before, both showered in pain and pleasure, spreading across your cunt. "Don't disobey me. Apologize, now"
He stops his minstrations, and you're so achingly close to your orgasm, that the answer falls easy and rushed from your lips.
"Sorry, Mr. Miller"
"Good girl" Joel praises as he pushes his finger in, next to his tongue on your clit.
But the orgasm is so deliciously close, and you can't wait for more. So now you're grinding in his face by reflex, rubbing against his big nose just like you'd imagined. You whine at the sensation, and Joel rests his tongue flat on your clit with surprise.
"Who gave you permission to do that?" but his voice sounds more amused than nagging. "That imagination of yours is somethin' else. Have you been thinkin' bout it all this time, hmh, greedy dirty slut?"
The orgasm looms closer, hitting when Joel pushes a second rough finger in, walls clenching against his digits. He pulls away, licking his fingers with his tongue.
"Such a perfect pussy you got there, sweetheart. As sweet as you when you ain't bein' a pain in the ass"
You laugh breathless, trying to recover.
"Wanna taste?"
So now he's kissing you for the first time, his lips rough against plush skin, nibbling with your lower lips between his teeth, his tongue still tasting like you roaming free inside your mouth, like he wants to mark every corner; imprint himself in you. You've never wanted anything, hell, anyone more. The kiss leaves you hanging, heart racing at the closeness of his face and the warmhearted feeling of his lips on yours, like pieces of a puzzle fitting together.
"There you go" he chuckles, enamoured at the sight of your puffy lips. "Now it's my turn"
He's quick to get rid of the jeans and belt (oh well, it'll be another day) until he's over you, just wearing his boxers.
You'd never seen Joel naked before, why would you? But there's a vague memory of hot summer days, trying to survive the heat in the town's pool, just as the rest. He was there, eye candy for the mothers and horny teens. You hadn't understand back then, when he was all muscle, but you do know, where the mighty strenght is still hidden there, somewhere between his sturdy arms and chest as soft as his belly, round as it pushes above the only piece of cloth that forbids you to see his dick. His chest is full of hair, and God, you feel so dirty wanting to bury your face in the sweat drenched patch.
"Stop lookin' at me like that" he teases, but there is a small voice of insecurity hiding its undertones beneath his smirk under your stare.
"You're so fucking hot, Joel" comes out before you can stop it, now mouth acting up on its own.
Fuck, he thinks, he's too far gone. There's no point of return.
Your eager fingers pull down the underwear, fingers grazing the softness of his length. You slowly grabs his dick as he comes closer, never seeing anything as big and provoking as it. That makes you tighten your grip on his dick, which stands proud and tall, leaking precum, and the muscles of his thighs strain against his skin.
He positions himself between your legs again.
"Let's put this big bad boy to use, huh?"
He grunts at your words, large hands finding your thighs for support, as he caresses up and down the skin littered with marks and kisses.
Joel pushes in. Just his tip, yet your mouth falls open at how large he already feels, and you tighten your hold on his neck.
"Tell me if it hurts" all softness on his eyes, his forehead falling against yours, as if he hadn't been punishing you just minutes ago. Your heart races at the gesture, tender meeting the rough of his edges.
The real question isn't asked, but you're on the pill and you trust him. You just want to fill him inside of you, all of him.
"I will, Mr. Miller"
He slams all the way in. You let out a broken sound, quickly muffled by his palm as he stays buried deep inside of you, givimg you time to adjust to his size. It burns, but you enjoy the way the pain feels. He slowly pulls out, before pushing all the way in again. Your slick folds take him, and he grunts, supporting his aching body by the forehead against yours one more time.
"So tight, sweetheart. Ain't nobody ruinin' this pussy but me" his growl comes out possesive as Joel establishes a steady rhythm. You softly moan as he keeps moving, pounding into you, hitting a spot no one had before, making you see stars. It gets harder to stay quiet, but Joel caputres every little sound that comes out of you in a kiss, as if that way he could preserve them better and forever.
You wrap your legs tight around him, keeping him close as your walls clench around him, his thrusts harder yet slower as he keeps going, ramming into you.
"Look at you, coatin' my dick like a fuckin' meltin' ice cream" he gently pushes it again between your folds, rubbing his dick on your clit. "So fuckin' wet, for me"
His lips are slightly parted and his eyes looked all fogged up, lost in the fire, thrusts becoming sloppier as he too feels it coming.
"So fuckin' pretty" drips from his mouth, and there's the stars in your eyes and the light you insist he's always had, even if he'd prefere the darkness. "The prettiest girl in the world with the sweetest pussy, givin' it all to this ol' perverted fuck"
The words and his big dick inside of you makes your eyes flutter shut on instinct.
"Don't sleep on me, baby" he coos, a hand brushing damp hair from your face. You recognize the look: the same in the car, on the balcony and on the poarch of his house, after letting the years go by. Back then, you thought you had dreamed it, but now that the secret saccharine sweetness reveals herself as he slams into you, you know it was real.
This is real.
You meet his gaze again and try to hold it as he pounds you so gently yet so rough, trying to show him without words that whatever this wrong and sick feeling was, you felt the same.
"Such'a good girl, takin' me so well" Joel grunts, slamming to the hilt. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm gonna-"
His dick twitches inside of you, walls spasming around his cock as your pussy takes it all, milking him dry.
"Take it all, like the good girl you are"
Both of you pant, and it takes him a while to realize the sun is raising again until its rays hurt his eyesight.
He's about to tell you how this shouldn't be, how he, at such an old age shouldn't be pinning for his daughter's friend: so young, sweet and loud-mouthed. No matter if you felt the same, or if your body was marked in and out by him, No, because wanting isn't enough, and no tide could wash away his sins from the shore.
"Listen, y/n-" your name like he has never said it before: no scold, no malice nor lust. Just a softness he hadn't felt in years, asleep under thick layers of cold.
But your soft snores fill the silence between the beats of his heart.
tags: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrosgrogu thank you sm for reading! hope u enjoy it :)
#dilfistwrites#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel#tlou#tlou fanfiction
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The Love Triangle from Hell (2)
Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader
Synopsis: After the events of PART ONE, Robin goes shoe shopping; Steve's mental health is in shambles; Nancy is trying to save her relationship; you're feeling lost; and Eddie is trying to be the bigger person.
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; drinking; Robin literally just trying to live her life but her friends are all idiots
A/N: Thank you all so so much for all the love you have been showing to part one. You all had me so motivated to write this next part for you. I never manage to get things written this quickly, it's insane. So much appreciation to you all who took the time to read and let me know how you liked it- the comments and reblogs mean so much to me! Thank you!
Please let know who you think our girl should end up with ;)
This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI
You didn’t ever think about a future in which you didn’t feel the way you felt about Steve. It was something that you always viewed as this absolute truth. It was unavoidable. The sun would rise and fall and you would love Steve Harrington. But now, the world feels like it’s crashed, burned and raised from the ashes. A new reality- a new future to be written. Maybe, just maybe, you would see a future for yourself without Steve. It was such a simple thought- but you couldn’t have seen it before.
While you’re coming to terms with your new reality that Eddie tore open with both hands, Steve feels the weight of the crash all around him. It’s everywhere, more specifically, you’re everywhere. He felt like he’s lost everything. In her reconciliation with Jonathan, Nancy pulled Steve aside that night and said she thought it best if they don’t hang out for awhile. He nodded, jaw tightened, but he understood.
Eddie isn’t not talking to him, but there’s awkward tension in the apartment. They both pretend that it isn’t there but the air is thick with it. The proverbial beans have been spillt. Eddie’s in love with you, and Steve shouldn’t care about it as much as he does. Eddie goes about his days padding around the house. He’ll strum guitar and clean the kitchen and go on like nothing happened. Steve’s been avoiding him, not knowing at all what to say. There isn’t anything to say- not really. But still, the walls between them are undeniably there.
Robin is all Steve has to confide in right now, telling her all about how he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you for the past few weeks since the night of what they’ve been calling “the incident.” He tells her everything- his confusion in his feelings towards you, the way he misses his friendship with Nancy, his irrational harbouring resentment toward Eddie. He tells her all of it. She listens and doesn’t judge- well, maybe she does judge. But, it’s coming from a place of love!
“What do you think?” she asks, stomping around in circles. She looks down at the new Adidas on her feet, thinking about how dirty the white sneakers are going to get almost immediately. Steve is sitting on the little bench in the shoe store with his head in his hands. “I hate them,” she complains, “I hate new shoes. I hate buying jeans. It all sucks.”
Like a parent would, Steve leans down and presses his fingertips down on the toe of the shoe. “These are too small,” he points out. He turns to the box at his side, handing her the next size up. “These will probably feel better.” She snatches the show from his hand, kicking off the pair she’s wearing.
“Fucking Munson,” she scoffs. “New fucking shoes,” she mutters, bending over to slide the next pair on. Steve smirks to himself when he sees the relief wash over Robin’s face. It’s the undeniable look of pure comfort. “Oh,” she says shyly, “these feel really nice.”
“What am I gonna do?” he asks, disheartened looking up at Robin. She sighs, pushing the empty box next to him on the floor so she can take its place.
“What do you want?” she asks, “Do you actually like her?”
“I might,” he admits, “I don’t know! I haven’t thought about her that way before. I could see it, maybe.”
“I don’t think you should do anything,” Robin advises, “Just sort out all the shit in your head. You are only just beginning to let yourself get over Nancy- jumping into a mess between your best friends is not the thing to do right now. Sort yourself out- get some Vitamin D, eat a vegetable- do something besides sit in your room and sulk.”
“I’m here now,” he tries to argue and Robin scoffs.
“You’re here cause you ran out of excuses when you kept cancelling on me,” Robin points out. She looks at her feet one more time. She then looks to Steve with a look of absolute utter defeat. “I think I’m gonna get these.” She gets up and kicks them off. Steve watches as she puts them back in the box. “I’m not gonna wear them around Eddie though,” she says with a scoff, heading towards the register like she got the one up on him.
Eddie remembers the first time he saw you. He’d been reflecting back on it a lot the past few weeks after everything that has happened. He’s having trouble wrapping his head around how he got from there to here. What was a innocent high school crush has blossomed into such an intense love that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. The feeling is almost too big for him to carry- which is probably the reason for his outburst that night.
It has been Eddie’s junior year, making it your sophomore year. You’d been in the drama club and occasionally rehearsal would run late- meaning Hellfire would start late since they used the Theater room as well. Usually, Drama Club rehearsed Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday- making the room available for Hellfire on Friday. However, as productions got closer to the opening night, theater kids and band geeks would end up flocking to the room for Hell Week- extra rehearsals, last minute set adjustments, all running out the clock to the big night. It would run into Fridays, pushing Hellfire back despite Eddie reserving the room. The one thing he actually did to follow the rules.
You felt ridiculous in your costume. Your Juliet dress had you sticking out when you weren’t in the midst of the sets and reciting your lines. The long fabrics of the Renaissance inspired costume followed behind you as you darted from one side of the school to the other. You needed last minute fixes to the hem of your dress and the veil of your head crown. You only a few minutes before you were expected at rehearsal, left with no choice to run from the home ec classroom to the theater.
Eddie and the rest of Hellfire stood begrudgingly behind the stage, too stubborn to find another location for their meeting. He swears that you ran by him in slow motion to make your cue. Like a runaway bride from his fantasy novels, it was like you were plucked from one of his fantasies and graced his world with your presence. He was enamored. You looked exactly like a princess. He didn’t realize he’d been staring until Gareth had elbowed him to snap him out of it. He knew from that moment when he looks back, he was in love with you. He rubbed his ribs where he was struck and stayed hidden backstage to watch the whole performance.
Steve can’t even remember the first time you met. You were something that was always there, and something he’s realized now that he’s taken for granted. You remember, you remember it all. It was still so vivid to you. It was a start to your everything.
Kindergarten was an overwhelming experience for Steve. Specifically drop-off, but he doesn’t remember now. You remember waiting with your mom and you held her hand tightly, while you waited for your teacher to escort you and your new classmates into school. You noticed Steve, across the play yard, but your head tilted in confusion that he was without a grown-up to send him off.
You immediately shook yourself free from your moms embrace and skipped confidently over to the little boy.
“Do you wanna be best friends?” You asked abruptly, it was all you needed. The simplicity of making friends when your six is a beautiful thing. He nodded, and you took his hand in yours so he didn’t walk in alone. The two of you were inseparable ever since. Until high school rolled around and changed everything.
The Steve you knew was different than the Steve that ruled the halls of Hawkins High back in the day. When it was the two of you, it was like how it always was. But at school, it was like he was an entirely new person. Reinvented and repackaged, King Steve’s reign was legend. Had it not killed you a little inside, you’d have been impressed.
Nancy offered to get lunch together with you shortly after the incident. She valued your friendship and wanted to clear the air. You felt the same. Your feelings towards Steve never hindered how highly you thought of Nancy. The two of you became friends amidst the era of King Steve, shortly before they began dating.
“I wanted you to know that had I known,” Nancy says, stirring the milk in her coffee, “I would have never went out with Steve.”
“You don’t have to feel guilty, Nance,” you reassure her. “You liked him and he liked you back, of course you guys should have dated. I don’t resent that- I just… I don’t know.”
“I don’t want this to affect us,” she reiterates.
“It won’t, it hasn’t- honestly,” you reply sincerely. “I never hated you. I can’t lie and say I wasn’t very jealous- because I was, still am a little maybe. It wasn’t because of you- it was just because it wasn’t me.”
“I understand,” she comforts you. You both share a smile and you appreciate her for coordinating this sit down. It felt good to confide in her. It was something you shouldn’t have bottled up and dealt with alone. Talking with Nancy felt like taking breaths of fresh air.
You’d walked home after lunch, declining Nancy’s offer for a ride. The cafe was close enough to your and Robin’s apartment that you could manage without getting too cold. Trudging up the front steps, you had your hood up to keep yourself warmer. It also hindered your vision so you didn’t see the figure on the front porch swing until you were right at your front door.
“Steve?” You ask, taken aback. You didn’t expect to see him- though you supposed he’d be wanting to talk about it all eventually. You sigh, bracing yourself for the one conversation you absolutely did not want to have.
“Hey,” he shivers, keeping his hands bunched into his jacket plackets.
“Come on up,” you offer, unlocking your front door. He graciously accepts, darting in out of the cold as fast as possible. He had to have been waiting awhile. “Robin is at work right now, but you can wait for her,” you say, as you both make it to the top of the stairs to your third floor apartment.
“I came to see you, actually,” he admits.
“I was afraid of that,” you joke, and it makes you a little happy when he chuckles. You both know how hard this conversation is going to be.
You both shrug off your warm layers and leave them in the entry way. You kick off your boots and shove your hat and gloves into the sleeve of your jacket. You try your best to tame your hair. You walk with your arms crossed and take a seat on your couch. Steve tentatively follows and sits on the opposite end. You both sit in uncomfortable silence for what felt like ages.
“How long?” He finally asks, and you can’t help but cringe. It felt so impersonal, and like a subtle attack. Like you were in the wrong for keeping something from him. He sounds hurt.
“I don’t know,” you sigh, your face in your hands. “Probably at least since we were in like second grade, maybe.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he questions, and you feel dejected.
“I don’t know- maybe cause you dated someone new constantly,” you accuse, flipping it back to him. You weren’t going to take the blame for this. “When we got to high school, you pursued so many girls- you were on a date every weekend! When did you expect me to say when you showed interest in literally everyone but me? Do you expect me to say I should’ve said something when you were with Nancy?”
“No… shit, I don’t know,” he mumbles. He had no right to be upset, you resolved. “I just, I feel bad that you didn’t think you could tell me.”
“I couldn’t risk losing you,” you admitted. “I’d much rather be heartbroken with you in my life than heartbroken without you.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and he’s not sure why he’s suddenly so quiet. “I just- fuck! I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
You both sit there, quietly, looking anywhere except each other. You bite the inside of your mouth nervously, you don’t know what to say. You notice he’s not saying I was so stupid. I love you, I always have. You’ve learned the hard way by now to not expect that from him. You can’t let your expectations of him dictate the future of your friendship.
“It’s okay, you know,” you finally say across the silence. “I don’t want you to think this changes anything.”
This changes everything! He wants to exclaim. You’re right there, closer than you’ve been in weeks. Yet you still feel so far away, so unattainable. He feels as though you’re treating him like a stranger, and he hates feeling like this.
“I’m not in love with Nancy,” he confesses. “I thought it was what I wanted, but now I don’t know what I want.”
“Don’t give me false hope to make me feel better, Steve,” you sigh. “That’s not fair.”
Robin bursts through the door in a whirlwind of chaos. She’s shedding her layers as she recounts a terrible interaction she had with a customer at work. She kicks off her Adidas, not bothering to put them in the shoe rack and she lets her jacket lay on the floor for now.
“Anyways, this guy starts yelling at me because he didn’t like Risky Business like I wrote and starred in the damn thing so I’m like ‘Sir, I didn’t make the movie’ and then he gets he gets even more pissed that won’t give him a free rental. I can’t do that! What makes him think I can just wave a magic wand a pull a perk like that out of my- oh fuck. H-hey Steve…. I didn’t know you were here.”
He stands up abruptly, “I was just leaving.” Before either you or Robin have a chance to say anything else. He’s stumbling over putting on his shoes and falling into his jacket on the his way quickly out the door.
“What the hell was that?” Robin asks, turning to you.
“I have no idea.” You say earnestly.
“He’s so fucking stupid I swear to god,” she rolls her eyes and heads past you into the kitchen. She decided to keep her commentary at that. You escape to your room so you can process what the hell just happened.
“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” Steve hits his palms against his steering wheel in frustration. “SHIT!”
He completely fucked that up.
When you had a problem of this measure that bothered you, you’d call Steve. Or, you’d call Eddie. Neither option is one you felt was viable right now. You didn’t want to annoy Robin with it anymore than you’d had already- you’re sure she’s sick of everyone going to her. You have a bad habit of assuming you’re a burden when your anxiety spikes like this.
“Hey, Nance. I, uh, was just calling to-“
“Steve, please- we talked about this.”
He knew this was going to happen. But he couldn’t stop himself as he dialed her number. He knew he was supposed to stay away and give her and Jonathan space. How is he supposed to move on when he lost the one person he could call to talk about this? Steve felt Nancy understood him better than anyone- or at least at one point she did.
She hangs up before Steve gets a chance to say anything. He drops the receiver back onto the base. He lays back on the couch and takes some slow breaths. He can’t imagine that you all ended up here. After everything you all survived, this is what’s pulling you all apart.
Why the fuck did he call Nancy? Deep down he knows he wants to just talk to you but he just can’t right now. His brain is too congested with everything that’s come to light and it’s all such a scary, unfamiliar plane. Nancy is his familiar- it’s what he knows. He’s realizing maybe he didn’t actually pine for Nancy but instead he was yearning for that stability he once felt. He’s mourning the time for when it felt like he had absolutely everything.
It hits him all at once- like a huge wave that knocks you out when you’re bracing yourself to jump. He wanted it all back- fucking King Steve. Not the parties and the fucking assholes. He wanted to feel that way again. He wanted how he felt when he had a girlfriend who loved him and close friends he could walk the halls with. He missed when his life felt easy and he missed how easy it feels now compared to this. He wanted his life back- it wasn’t Nancy that he wanted- not really. He wanted to feel that way again and he was mourning his youth despite the imperfections.
He thought of you again, as he turned his body to stare at the phone. He knows he should call, and do his best to make you feel better. He needed you to understand that he understands so much more now than he did. The bigger picture is revealing itself more to him and he actually fucking gets it. Out of everything that has changed, you never did. It all feels so painfully obvious now. How could he have not seen it?
“Sup, man,” Eddie says casually, coming home from work. Taking off his jacket reveals that his coveralls are covered in a huge grease stain. Kicking off his work boots, he doesn’t wait for Steve to reply as he heads to the bathroom to shower. “You wanna get Chinese tonight?” he calls from the other room. Steve gulps and sits up, trying to shake himself out of it.
“Uh, yeah, sure.”
A few minutes later, Eddie emerges from the bathroom and steam from his shower wafts out into the hallway.
“We’re good, right?” Eddie asks. He wants to say yes. Eddie did nothing wrong and Steve deep down knows it. He knows his resentment he’s harbouring is completely unfair- but it is running down to his core.
“Yeah, we’re fine,” Steve says, trying his best to fake it. They aren’t good. Steve doesn’t know if they’d ever be good. Eddie knows it too. He knows Steve too well to know that he isn’t actually good. Eddie doesn’t fight it.
“I’ll get over it,” Eddie said. “Well, that’s a fucking lie. But, I can tell myself I can get over it.” Steve looks at him, confused. “If you and her want to be together, if you like her back- I’ll step down.”
“Why are you even saying that?”
“Because I want her to be happy more than anything else, and if I’m not that guy- I’m just getting in the way of that,” he confesses, and Steve can hear the hurt in his friend’s voice. “If you actually want to go for it- I’m not what’s stopping you, man.”
The phone breaks through the solemn moment the two of them share. Eddie looks to Steve and Steve shrugs before picking up the receiver.
“Hello?” He says, and he smiles to himself as he recognizes the voice on the other end. Then, Eddie watches as his friend’s face falls again- all in a brief few seconds. “It’s for you,” he says, dropping the receiver on the table for Eddie to get. Steve disappears down the hall and seeks refuge in his room.
“Hey,” Eddie says, bringing the phone to his ear.
“Hey, it’s me,” he hears you say. Suddenly, Steve’s reaction makes a lot of sense.
TAGLIST: @sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#x reader#steve harrington x f!reader#steve harrington x reader#angst#steve harrington angst#eddie munson angst#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fan fiction#eddie munson x y/n#steve harrington x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#love triangle#fan fiction#eddie x reader#steve x reader#stranger things x reader#joe keery characters#joe quinn characters#stranger things fic#eddie munson fan fiction#steve harrington fan fiction#eventual smut
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One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich and The Things They Carried rewired parts of my brain. The Odyssey was a real treat. (Especially when some of my classmates who found the language rather opaque started gathering around me at morning homeroom to hear my retellings of last night's reading assignment.)
But I know some of you probably have or had a miserable time in English class, and that may have been partly because your school didn't properly prepare you for reading the books ahead of time, so you were just totally at sea all the way through.
If that's the case, here are some tips for getting more enjoyment out of a book you're struggling with!
Look up summaries of individual chapters (CliffsNotes usually has these). Then go back and read them. Having an idea of what's happening might help you follow along with language or writing styles that you're struggling with.
Let yourself skim over particular passages you're baffled by and latch onto the ones that make sense. Finding points that you can follow might help you make sense of the trickier ones by providing context.
If you don't understand a character's motivations, especially in older books and books that take place in a foreign country, it might be because you're missing context. That's okay, and your teacher isn't expecting you to have encyclopedic knowledge of the historical and cultural context for a book.
But also, even in the most unfamiliar circumstances, you can look for things that make sense to you. The characters are still people, and regardless of context, people are still people.
But also, sometimes you just can't relate to the character. That's ok. "Well I would never ____" Yes, but this person did. And here's why. In the world they live in, it made sense or it was the only thing they could do. And there are people in real life who do that. Now you've seen a little bit of why.
You don't have to like all the characters. Some characters (even the protagonists) you're supposed to hate. Sometimes that's because the author is saying, "This bastard is fucked up, but do you see how he got that way?" Sometimes it's, "This bitch made every wrong choice possible, but damn if it didn't make some wild drama."
Remember that sometimes the author may not explain exactly why something happens because it's supposed to be a bit of a mystery at first! Keep reading and see if it gets explained later!
Look up words in the dictionary!!
If you're having trouble keeping a lot of characters in your head, make a cast list. "John is Mary's brother and he's a bit of a dick."
It's okay if there are books you simply do not vibe with. Give them a fair shake, but really, even the kids who love English class are gonna have books they hate. I despised a few of the books I read for school. But remember that struggling with a book and not liking it aren't the same thing!
And for the love of everything holy. Ask. Your. Teacher. Questions. Write them down while you're reading and ask! If you're scared to ask in class, talk to them at another time! But I can guarantee that if you didn't understand something, some of your classmates didn't either. If your teacher is remotely competent, they'll be delighted to answer your questions.
And there are no questions too simple to ask in class!! "Why did this character do this thing?" "What's up with this sentence?" "I tried reading this, and here's what I think the events of this chapter were. Is that really what happened?" "What the heck is a ____?" "Why was this bit in here? It doesn't seem like it's important to the plot." "How do we know that ____ theme is in here?"
Yes, there are themes and symbols and motifs and whatever else in books. Your teacher isn't just making it up. People tell stories for a reason. The author is trying to communicate something to you. "Well why didn't they just say that?" Because saying it in a story shows you something about it. I can tell you, "Love isn't always enough to save you." or I can show you that by telling you a story about two people who fall in love and then get their shit wrecked. I can tell you, "This war happened and it was awful," or I can show you the people who were in it and what it did to them. I can tell you, "The government is a corrupt pile of festering feces," or I can show you what might happen if we keep going on the path we're on.
And you might not agree! You can say, "No, it wouldn't happen like that." You can say, "But this war was worth it because it resulted in this." You can say, "Actually, this particular social outcome seems pretty rad to me." That's okay because stories are a conversation, not the word of God from on high. But again, give the author a fair shake.
The most important thing is that you don't just give up if you're struggling. You're in school to learn! So accept that there are things you don't already know.
I straight up do not trust you if you did not enjoy a single book you had to read for English class. I know they assigned some real stuffy stinkers and the curriculum varies across districts but not one? Not The Outsiders? Not The Picture of Dorian Gray? Not Fahrenheit 451? Not even Frankenstein? Damn. That’s crazy.
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Ngl I think a lot of the people who hate the concept of transandrophobia (As in they think it's not real and trans men/mascs are just making shit up) are also ablest against autistics specifically. They probably don't realize it but they are.
I'm gonna list off some things I've experienced.
I've been assumed to be a dumb teenage boy online by someone who twisted around the meaning of my post and wouldn't listen when I tried to elaborate
I've had people scoff when I try to talk about my experiences and insist that it's not a big deal, or I'm just looking too much into it/I'm misunderstanding things
I've had people regard me like I'm adorable, a child, the smol uwu bean who's confused and needs protecting from things he doesn't fully understand
People have interrupted me while I'm talking about something bad that happened to insist that a specific other group has had it worse than me and that I need to stfu
I have been bullied for years now
Now guess: Did these things happen to me because I'm a trans man, or because I'm autistic?
I'm serious I want you to actually sit and think for a second here.
Done?
If you came to the conclusion that it's because of both, you're correct!
Every scenario I listed has happened to me in the context of me being autistic and in the context of me being a trans man. Bigotry against both of these groups is indistinguishable at times.
I also want you to recall the book "Irreversible Damage: The Transgender Craze Seducing Our Daughters". Y'know, the book that says that a lot of trans men are just autistic little girls who have been groomed or were just really fucking stupid and decided to change our gender identities on a whim?
Both transandrophobia and ableism against autistics relies on the bigot believing the following:
The individual is dumb or childish
The individual doesn't understand their problems (or lack of problems) and needs someone to explain it to them, if they're even capable of understanding the dumbed-down explanation
The individual expressing concern about their alleged difficulties is just trying to take attention and resources away from a group that's more oppressed/higher needs
The individual is small and pathetic, until they get angry, when they get angry they are now a chaotic threat that is capable of physically harming people and they must be dealt with immediately because they are unable to see reason
The individual has everything handed to them, so they shouldn't be complaining in the first place
The individual has inherently bad qualities, but they also have a responsibility to "make up" for these bad qualities by being the most submissive person on the planet, failing to "make up" for their bad qualities means that the individual is choosing to hate others and is an entitled asshole
So if you're an autistic person who disagrees with transandrophobia, I'm asking you to stop and reflect and ask yourself if you've been putting down trans men and/or mascs the same way that other people have put you down for being autistic.
If you're not autistic, just fucking do better.
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part one || part two || part three || this is part four
The weeks following your first 'date' with Simon were full of going on little walks together, but most of all? The pings, to say the least. He would text you so often it came as a shock to you he even had a job. You found it amusing, sure, maybe even annoying, but you hadn't anticipated the sheer silence when he was 'away with work', as he put it.
You had guessed that meant deployed or something of the sorts... and it worried you, yeah, but your feelings for him were still new and you didn't want to get hurt if anything was to happen.
You'd been excited when he'd promised to write to you a few days before he left, but as the days flew by with nothing more than some bills, bank statements and late birthday cards dropping through the letter box it occurred to you that Simon Riley had been too blown away when he first saw you in your house to remember the road name, and far to drunk when he first spoke to you to remember the number on your front door.
So Simon sat there when he wasn't fighting or in briefings and had downtime (which was rare) writing letters he knew he couldn't send away, partly because it was a risk to send stuff away and partly because he would just blank on your god damn address every single time.
He didn't even have his phone because of something to do with trackers and intel and it was all a bit of a fuzz of unconfirmed information that Simon had explained to on a walk a few days before his departure.
This is what worried you. You obviously knew the dangers, and you two weren't even 'official' yet, but you would have liked to be updated. You couldn't help but feel a bit sick when your mind travelled to the horrors his job could boast.
Prior to his deployment, you and Simon had got to know each other a little better, which only made your nerves worse now you had more of a bond, plus you had gotten to see the less flustered version of him. You'd mostly talked over the phone but had also gone on a few walks together. It felt weird; missing someone you'd so quickly fallen for. You could only hope as the days blurred into weeks then into months.
Then, two months later, Simon was back. He'd been resting and getting medical support for a day or two before he journeyed home, and his first thought? It was to retrace his steps down that one road to that house with the open window that had changed everything. He could have slept, unpacked, done anything, but all he wanted to do was to see you.
You groan as you hear a knock against the door... you'd just about drifted off after hours and hours of tossing and turning, your head reluctant to rest. Trudging downstairs, you pull on a hoodie over your pyjamas. "Who the fuck..?" You murmur, clicking on the hallway light and unbolting the door, ready to dive back into bed.
"What?" You grumble as you swing the door just a crack open, your eyes widening and breath hitching at seeing that tall frame and skull mask. You slam it shut, fumbling to unlatch the door and burst it open, flying into the bulky man's arms and screaming.
Simon grins under the balaclava, stumbling backwards slightly as you bounce onto him. "You alright?" He asks, his voice so nonchalant even as you wrap your arms around him. Probably still trying to seem cool for you.
You pull back, face still covered in shock. "Fucking alright? That's all you have to say?" You cry, voice a few pitches higher than usual. "Fuck, Simon... you said you would write!" You mumble, leaning back in to hug him. Part of you wanted to say there forever, holding him there and squeezing him as hard as you could, but you knew you should probably invite him in. So that's what you do.
His mind flicks back to Soap's so called relationship advice, the words "honesty is key" in that loud Scottish accent rattling through his mind. "Okay fine," He grunts, avoiding eye contact. "I hate tea. Can't bloody stand the stuff."
"Well," Ghost replies, shoving his hands into the big pockets of his tactical jacket as he steps inside, shutting the front door behind him and following you to the kitchen "I didn't know your address," He admits, smirking as you raise an eyebrow at him and snicker. "Oh yeah," You chuckle slightly, trying to refrain from smothering the poor bloke as he takes a seat at your table. "Tea?" You tilt your head and glance at the kettle.
"I hate t-" Simon bites the inside of his cheek and curses under his breath. Fuck... He thinks, realising him lying about loving the drink would probably wean him into having it regularly. "Tea's great," He nods, noting how you raise your eyebrows, expression sceptical.
Simon nods, rubbing his eyes sarcastically. "It's probably too late to walk home, aye," He says, eyebrows raised.
You huff with amusement, flicking the kettle off and rifling through your cabinet. "I'm out of coffee,"
You and Simon chatted for hours, sitting at the table. At first, he was jittery, but he soon relaxed, trying to stop staring at you, although this was hard as he finds you so breathtakingly perfect.
A few hours later, you tilt your head and smile at Ghost as he yawns. "You must be tired," You say softly, leaning on the counter.
"Yeah," You respond, scratching your neck with a mock confusion. "Lucky I have a double bed, eh?"
And with that, the two of you curled up on the mattress, Ghost pulling you towards him, arms firm around you as he let the gentle rise and fall of your chest guide him to sleep.
"You're sure?" Asks Ghost, his nervous expression from the coffee shop returning to his face. He was still terrified of scaring you away, but wanted nothing more than to collapse onto your bed and just hold you. You nod, smiling gently. "Come on." Taking your hand, Simon follows you upstairs to your cosy room, allowing himself to relax, stop being awkward. The decoration alone made him feel at home, probably because it shone with your personality.
Love. Simon was sure that's what that feeling was... the one that had seized his whole being since he first set eyes upon you.
Never in a million years would he have predicted this if he was asked about his future a few months ago, but here you were, two awkward and unsure people falling in love from nowhere.
thank you sm for reading! I hope you enjoyed part four..! if anyone wants a part five, I'll most likely do it, ( I just need to figure out what I'd write... probably something about the letters) but yea if u want that just let me know.... also, feel free to make any asks for fics u would like to see :)
sorry if my posting is irregular for a while! I'm back at uni and work after the Christmas break so very busy
#call of duty#cod#cod fanfic#cod x reader#cod x you#cod fic#cod mw2#cod x all readers#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley fanfic#call of duty x reader#cod men#soap cod#ghost cod#call of duty fanfic#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost#task force 141#fluff#fanfic#cod modern warfare#tf 141 x reader#the need for him is real#soap x reader
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Anyway I wanted to write something a little more serious about the politics of the day - a trend many noticed in the 2024 election, and its aftermath, is all of these notable non-politicians jumping onto the Trump ship. You have certainly noticed the big ones doing it, the Musk-types. What I have also seen is the middle-road types - the podcasts slotting the admin into their current healthcare fad, the policy bloggers being like "Dear Trump, this is how to truly reform the government - my pet idea" and offering support. A sort of opportunistic bandwagoning. This does happen every election to some extent, but it is notable that it happened way, way less when Biden was elected.
Some view this through the lens of fear, of Trump's open willingness to tax or prosecute those who don't bend the knee. That is part of it, for sure. But the other part is that Trump doesn't really believe in all that much - and that is actually a pretty big asset in politics. If you are a "Progress Studies" blogger or a union rep or a tech CEO, does Trump disagree with any of your key issues? He might not! You can just "convince" him, that is actually on the table, and he might take up your cause. And the Republican Party - not always, absolutely not always, but sometimes - will be browbeaten into going along with his whims even if they contradict their previous ideology. If you are ambitious and play your cards right, the structure of the Trump admin can very much reward people along the lines of these pet issues.
This is something the Democratic party could not do. All policy from the Biden admin came from a decade+ process of being discussed within the party. There were absolutely, 100%, "factions" jockeying for influence, but it was insiders, pre-established orgs along known lines, who were doing that jockeying. Is there any big policy that the Biden admin pursued that truly surprised you? That you were like, "woah, where the fuck did Biden get this idea from?" Not really, right? Because the admin was in so many ways an extension of the party.
Now this can be a real strength when your political parties are strong. When the locus of politics is within parties, then naturally they should be informing directions, and your goal as an admin is to court them. But that is pretty much the opposite of the current US political landscape - political parties have never been weaker. Voters hate political insiders, primaries are completely open and people who openly oppose the party sometimes sweep them, voters don't get their political opinion or w/e from politicians or party orgs. Parties are downstream of where more and more political influence comes from (though ofc they are by no means powerless, this is all trendlines). If you are one of these political outsider types, the Joe Rogans or Progress Studies bloggers or crypto coalitions or whatever, the Democratic party is just not going to work with you? You will be "heard", but if you want influence you gotta put your decade+ into the party first.
But Trump? You just gotta show up and kiss the ring. For talented people, this is actually a much better deal. It probably won't work, but the odds are still better than the alternative. And the biggest looming wrinkle is that this strategy is being hamstrung by Trump being a total idiot and backstabbing asshole - imagine how effective these strategies would be if someone competent was doing it. His left-field ideas are not only "annexing Greenland", but also doing it in the most hamfisted way imaginable. The core idea here isn't that crazy btw! Greenland is pushing for greater independence from Denmark, but gets a ton of subsidies so is loath to lose them if they go solo. You can see how an intelligent operator charting some soft power politics here could maybe make something happen, but Trump is a fucking nob and can't do that. So he is often a bad vessel for your niche ideas. But at least he shows up to the game!
People sometimes really want politics to be ideological. They want a coherent political party with a unitary philosophy to implement a cohesive agenda. I get this appeal, but this just isn't how US politics, or democratic politics more widely, works. It is an endless process of factional recruitment for one-off reforms, and otherwise managerial policy (in)competence. Ideology is not elected, a "mandate" does not run for office. Some individual people win and then they invent a mandate afterwards. Democracy does not reveal consensus, it manufactures it. And the US is moving more towards that direction, not less.
My fear is Democrats, in "widening the tent", will focus too much on that internal party process, on trying to make the Democratic Party "coherently" something that is more appealing to the median voter. Valuable work, to be sure, but the other side is you need to make it more appealing to people of influence or talent. As others have commented, it is kind of baffling how the Biden administration committed itself to a policy of green electrification and banning foreign car imports, and somehow made an enemy of America's biggest domestic green electric car manufacturer. You need to be, on the margins, less committed to any specific ideology at all, and instead open to actually winning support from diverse factions. Otherwise the other side will always be more appealing to anyone not of your ideology, because they kind of don't care about ideology. The Dems are already the "bigger tent" party, this should be their wheelhouse. They just need to update their tactics for the modern era.
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I will never believe that the Headmasters death was an accident.
You’re telling me the guy that abused Atsushi for at least a decade shows up looking for him. And he just so happens to get hit by a truck?
I know trucks just do that in anime but I think it’s a wee bit convenient if you ask me.
I refuse to believe anyone in the Agency would’ve let that man anyone here near Atsushi. If there’s one thing about the Agency we know is that they protect their own.
They went on a massacre because someone attacked the coffee guy. And I’m supposed to believe they’d let the Headmaster walk into the office alive?
The case got given to Ranpo who is incredibly protective over his people. Junichiro was on the case with Atsushi and he’d definitely murder for less.
Dazai was somehow involved too and he would do anything to protect the Agency. Especially when it comes to Atsushi.
They might not know a lot of Atsushi’s past like they didn’t know why his hair is cut the way it is. But they know enough. They’re detectives they can figure stuff out.
Starving orphan kicked out of an orphanage saying no one would care if he lived or died…Tells you a lot.
Also Akutugawa was here in the manga too and he wouldn’t have helped out for nothing. He probably knows the most honestly because of Fitzgerald.
He hates it but he understands.
I mean Atsushi in the manga (chapter 39) thought the gun the headmaster had with him was going to be used on him.
It wasn’t but the fact that’s where his mind went too immediately…Like I can just imagine Atsushi seeing the news paper and making a comment about that.
Not even thinking about it and everyone in the office just goes silent.
I feel like the only reason they didn’t let Kyouka go fuck the guy up (because she absolutely would throw the no killing rule out the window for Atsushi) is because Atsushi wouldn’t really want that.
They know how he’d feel so they staged an accident. Putting Atsushi on the case so he can discover it and gain some closure.
I know it was an accident in canon but I’m very sus about it.
#bungou stray dogs#bsd#child abuse#bsd atsushi#atsushi nakajima#bsd akutagawa#bsd dazai#bsd ranpo#bsd junichiro#bsd kyouka#bsd ada#bsd armed detective agency
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I rarely try to excuse this guy’s behaviour,but can you even imagine being Sauron and having gone through an entire age of Silmaril-related drama,then tried a self-coronation where he got Julius Caesared and turned into goo, then finally managing,after ages and after having eaten at least one poor woman,to take a human form,then finding yourself on a tattered raft on the sea after having to jump ship,now possibly being hunted by a water creature-going through all that,and then looking up to see a personified fucking Silmaril swimming towards you?
Look…look…if he took some time to understand what was happening,and if he absolutely thought he was having some trauma-related hallucination and thought someone was playing a cosmic joke on him…all I’m saying is that letting one of the traumas you’ve only just recovered from back into you life and your raft,might have given anyone pause.He was probably just sitting on that raft convinced he was free,thinking-"no thanks no more silmaril stuff for me,no sir, that was wild lol so glad I'm done with all that, I’ve had enough,I never even want to talk about-“
And then he saw her and had the first panic attack he’s ever had.
She will then go on to live rent-free in his mind for the rest of his life,like tell me he didn’t hate that fucking raft for the rest of his existence.
#trop#saurondriel#haladriel#the rings of power#petition to send sauron to therapy#found this in my old drafts and honestly i was right and i should have said it
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his lips parted, thinking angel was going to finish in his mouth like he had so graciously done for garam but the man hadn't. garam flinched slightly as he felt warm liquid shoot onto his face and lips, which eventually dripped into his mouth. a hand lifted to wipe away what had spilled onto his cheeks, bringing it to his mouth to lick his fingers clean. he was left smiling once angel had fallen back to lay down, eagerly taking a hold of his fingers when the man reached out to him. "we should've done this sooner." the words that left his lips so carelessly probably should have remained in his head.
garam smiled after being pulled to lay against the other's chest, his hand balling up to rest just below angel's ribcage curled up underneath his own chin. it'd been so long since he was actually given the opportunity to cuddle with somebody. "it's okay," his voice was small as he tried to hide his excitement from something others might have seen as so insignificant. he was quick to start shaking his head when the other mentioned garam needing a bath, though with the position they were both laying in, he wasn't able to shake it very much. "i think i want to stay right here." he countered as he shifted to press his nose against angel's chest, inhaling deeply. his lips were pressed next, trailing soft kisses up the other's neck until his nose nudged against angel's earlobe. only a second later, garam was taking that same earlobe between his lips and tugging on it gently. "i'm really happy," he whispered before nuzzling his face into angel's neck. he didn't stop there, though. garam continued kissing the man's neck, those kisses quickly turned into sucking as he was determined to leave a mark on the other's skin. it was an act done out of pettiness, not something he thought through, as he wanted there to be something clear and visible left of their time spent together. a mark that he was sure darius would see, assuming the man would see angel again before the marks faded. he knew his intentions were in the wrong place, he knew angel would probably be upset if garam were to clue him in on why he was doing this. but he needed the third party to know that angel was off limits, there was zero chance garam would let anything happen between the two of them beyond the kiss they shared outside angel's apartment. "i haven't gotten to do this in a long time," he continued to whisper, alternating between kissing and sucking the skin of angel's neck. when he was satisfied with the work he'd done, garam pulled away to look down at the few little burgundy marks now on angel's neck and smiled. he brought his hand up to run his finger over the larger mark, one he'd intentionally made in the shape of a love heart. "this is the only place you're allowed to leave marks on me," he said, tapping the mark he'd left. "you can do anything you want to me as long as you follow this rule. and if you break the rule, you don't get to touch me until the mark you made is gone." garam probably wouldn't follow through with the last part of his request, it'd feel more like a punishment for himself rather than for angel. he pushed himself up a little bit, still resting the majority of his upper torso on angel but he wanted to actually get a good look at the man underneath him. "i know i talked about wanting someone to be gentle with me but you don't have to if you like it rough. i like that, too, but there are also going to be times where i want things to be nice a-and intimate and, you know, not just fucking. and i know you're not ready to actually do stuff like that but what we did, if it happens again—" he paused, feeling his cheeks heating up. garam hated that he felt embarrassed talking about stuff like this, especially since he was so open about it when he wasn't sober. "i liked that you let your, um—" he paused again, a bashful smile creeping over, "your urges take control. your hips, you—" his eyes closed as he let his face fall back down to the crook of angel's neck. "you can fuck my mouth whenever you want." garam whispered, unable to actually look at the other.
Feeling Garam reach his limited internally and seeing it externally was a sight. Angel could feel the man tighten around his fingers and squirm in his hands. As he felt Garam reaching his climax Angel did everything he could to make sure the other man would never forget it. He began pumping his fingers at a rapid pace, aiming to hit his spot. His hand was soon replaced by the raven-haired man’s mouth. His cheeks hallowed as he sucked and bobbed his head. Being sure to deep throat him. He could feel the lazy pumps that the smaller man offered him. It turned him on even more that his best friend was so over come by pleasure that he couldn’t perform anymore. And the moans he was letting out were like music to his ears. Angel had imagined what they would sound like countless times. But never did he imagine how dam sexy they would be. The pants and whimpers didn’t help either. All he could imagine was their next time together. What they might be ready for down the road. And what noises he would make then. Angel could feel Garam’s cock twitching in his mouth and as he said he was gonna he pushed his head down and held it there. Swallowing every shot that was sent down his throat. His fingers continued to help the man ride of his climax and they gradually slowed. Just feeling his best friend grabbing at his thigh, moan the way he was, was enough to get Angel right where he needed to be. He slowly pulled off Garam and just looked down at him and he came all over his face. He released a string of shots back to back as his body tensed and trembled. “F-fuck” he moaned as he flopped down on the bed panting. Angel rolled over to lay on his back and look up at the ceiling. He laid their quietly for a moment and laughed as he could hear the shower water still going. Which reminded him how they got in this situation in the first place. “Garam, don’t tease me like that. You are too cute for that. I can’t help myself” Angel smirked and reached out a hand for Garam. He just wanted to feel him, know he was still there. He shifted before completely sitting up and moving to lay the same direction as Garam. He moved close to the smaller man and pulled him against his chest. He pressed a kiss to his hair as he rubbed the man’s back, “I’m a cuddler after sex. I hope that’s alright.” Angel admitted. He was always this way which was unfortunately a turn off for many. He realized early on he couldn’t be with someone who could just get up and walk away or turn over after sex. Angel hated that feeling it made him feel unwanted and unashamed in some ways. As in they got what they wanted and had no use for him. Angel also enjoyed taking care of his partner, in general, but especially after intercourse. “I’ll order pancakes in. We can go out for dinner. How does that sound? I think you need a bath, and we can watch a movie” Angel offered some ideas as his hand moved to Garam’s hair. He quietly played it with running his fingers through the strands.
#me having to break the reply up bc character limits dumb af#threads#thread: min garam#garam & angel#ang3lmoan
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Breathe. | Choi su-bong (Thanos) x Nam-gyu
Summary; Where Nam-gyu basically has a breakdown inside the bathroom followed by huge dysphoria and the person he least expects talks him through it all.
Info; Gender dysphoria, trans!Nam-gyu, it’s like one of my hcs pls don’t attack me, anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of death (avrg squid game behavior), drugs, mentions of blood, idiots in love, kissing, actually js fluff mixed w angst, Nam-gyu w sensory issues if you squint!!, self-harm but without necessarily cutting, suicidal thoughts, bathroom fight shit doesn’t happen for their sake, they’re both emotionally constipated, Thanos just being Thanos honestly, coming out of the closet, unbinding, bruises, cuddling, acceptance, probably ooc but again who cares, just tbh actual tooth rotting comfort for our boy<3
Notes; I think writing became sort of a hyperfixation.. it’s so bad I gen can’t sleep so here you go goobers! Also don’t attack me for the trans nam-gyu hc I js saw that man and I was like; ‘this one’s going to my big hcs list’..
Nam-gyu has been feeling shaken ever since they came back from that stupid mingle game, sure, he was high off his mind just like Thanos was but.. he wasn’t sure why he felt so shaken up. The blood tainted his once pristine white sneakers, making him grimace as he remembered the pools of blood on the floor.
Fidgeting with his anxiety ring, Nam-gyu bit the inside of his cheek as he pushed the bathroom door open. He could still very clearly hear the screams and shouts of the people dying outside, the cries piercing his soul. He cursed under his breath, leaning against the sinks.
It took him a bit to realize his hands were fucking shaking like hell. He brought a hand up to his hair to tug on it, feeling that desperate urge again. But he stopped, instead, he kept his gaze down on the sink as that same hand that was once meant for his hair turned the tap on.
He splashed cold water onto his face, once, twice, thrice. And then with the support of both hands, he looked at himself in the mirror, he still had fucking blood smudged on his face. His stomach churned, the back of his hand wiping the blood away, completely forgetting about the tap, rather, he just let the water keep running.
Nam-gyu couldn’t help but stare at himself in the mirror, had the drugs seriously worn off that quickly? No, he didn’t think so. Maybe the real problem was him, he hated feeling affected by that stupid fucking game.
But of course he was the problem, it wasn’t a surprise. From a problem to another, as quick as it came, his thoughts began scattering, his hand fidgeting with his ring viciously as he tried to will his body and mind to calm the fuck down.
Again, Nam-gyu looked at himself, really did. And he cringed at the sight, some of his hair was sticking to his face, he looked exhausted, which was no surprise. And then finally, his gaze focused on himself overall, most importantly, his features. He remembered Thanos, hell, he was so.. masculine.
It wasn’t only his personality, but his looks. Compared to how he looks, Nam-gyu looked horribly like a girl, something he despised to be or even think he would ever be. But in this moment, he just knows he looks like a girl.
Nam-gyu cursed under his breath as he ducked his head down, nimble fingers tightening around the sink as he tried to at least regulate his breathing, but he felt sick to his stomach. Not only because of that stupid round but because of himself.
The way he looked made him want to carve himself out, maybe get out of this skin somehow that seemed to trap him in a place where he felt like he was constantly going to lose his fucking mind.
He shivered, fuck, when had he gotten so cold? The feeling wasn’t exactly unwelcome, anything rather than this was.
He swallowed hard, feeling the itch on his skin. He got that whenever he was in moods like this, it’s as if his body knew he wanted to claw himself out of it, it was ironic.
Nam-gyu felt nothing short of pathetic, and yet he began itching his skin. He damned himself for not bringing a small knife with himself, it could have done wonders to what hems feeling right now.
The itching just intensifies, it begins to hurt. But it’s a welcome feeling of pain. His mind drags him to the lifeless corpses he could see through the slit on the door, eyes glazed and blood seeping out of them as the gunfire ceased.
Nam-gyu could feel his vision get blurry, slowly, reverently but surely. He bit down on his lip, the hand that wasn’t viciously scratching his arm as if to try to get himself out was clenched in a fist, his nails, albeit short, dug into his skin.
He was crying again, Nam-gyu hated feeling like this. Hell, he hated everything. He just desperately needed to get out, or maybe all he needed was a bullet in his brain, out there he was nothing and in here he was worse than nothing. Maybe he could steal a pill or two from Thanos to calm his nerves, but it didn’t feel ideal, especially when he became sober so quickly.
His mind felt hazy as he furiously scratched and dug his fingers and clawed at his skin in his arms, he couldn’t see because his eyes were so damn foggy. He couldn’t hear anything since the only thing he could hear was his heart beat thudding strongly in his ears, a sickening reminder he was still alive and would be inside this fuckass body.
He bit his lip to stifle what he guessed was a sob, his hands were shaking again, and Nam-gyu felt like he couldn’t fucking breathe. His chest felt heavy, too constricted to suck in too much breath, the exact amount he needed.
He winced as he moved, the pain finally seeping in. He remembered binding tightly before leaving to this place, so.. he probably hasn’t taken this stupid binder in three days straight, oh, Nam-gyu bet this would do a number on this situation.
A quiet sob left his lips as his legs wobbled, doubling over while one hand still held tightly onto the sink, the water still running. His legs felt like jelly as his hand went to his chest, this was pure fucking torture at its finest, even though this was his own fault.
The reason why he’s like this right now is because he isn’t a fucking boy, Nam-gyu gritted his teeth. He would be able to breathe properly if he was a boy, he wouldn’t need to bind his stupid chest if he wasn’t a boy, he wouldn’t need to cry himself to sleep or fight with internal transphobia if he was a boy, Nam-gyu was just playing a boy, he realized. Or maybe it was just his mind speaking.
He only panicked further when he couldn’t breathe properly anymore, he was practically wheezing. And he was alone in the damn bathroom.
But not for long, really. Because Thanos apparently couldn’t leave people fucking alone when they took too long. Thanos, as always walked in carelessly, not noticing the scene at first.
"Hey, Nam-su, you were taking forever, bro. What else could be better than talking to the great Thanos?" But the next moment, Thanos knew something was off. First of all, he didn’t get a reply, and second of all, he could hear quiet sobs.
His gaze darted around until it fell on a familiar bob, Nam-gyu was sunken to his knees, shaking. Visibly crying and wheezing for air, Thanos didn’t know how to react. He was never good at comforting people, and wasn’t the best with making them feel better through words.
And yet, either way, his feet unconsciously moved to Nam-gyu as he crouched down in front of him. The other man seemed too caught up in his panic to notice, so, gently, Thanos reached out very slowly and wrapped his hand around Nam-gyu’s wrist.
The eyes that met his own were all familiar, but also weren’t. Nam-gyu had a huge ego and was a huge goof, but now.. Thanos couldn’t help but frown as he saw the tears clinging to his eyes as they slipped down, collected on his chin and then fell. His gaze was wild, hell, almost even scared. Thanos was definitely sure this was the closest to frightened he’d ever see Nam-gyu get.
"Nam-gyu, hey, hey man look at me." Thanos said as he held the other’s chin, it was almost scary how he was shaking so badly. "You need to take a breather, you look like you might run out of breath." Thanos said, but it didn’t do anything. Goddamn it, Thanos hated not knowing what to do, hated feeling powerless.
"I c-" He heard Nam-gyu choke out, was he trying to say 'I can’t'? Thanos was worried as hell, he couldn’t understand shit while his friend was nearly out of fucking breath.
Nam-gyu’s hand clawed at his chest, as much as he felt scared to come out, which mingled with his whole anxiety, Nam-gyu felt like he was being tortured. And thankfully, Thanos got the hint. "Is it something wrong with your chest?" He asked as he saw how Nam-gyu seemed to try to get something out. So instead of questioning, he shut up and began taking the tracksuit jacket with the other’s number off. Then, his shirt.
Thanos could easily tell Nam-gyu was almost afraid of this, he was hesitant, tense, even. But if this was cutting off his air supply, Thanos would have to get whatever this dude was using or wearing off.
His lips parted in a small 'O' as he caught the sight of a chest binder, but he brushed it off, now wasn’t really the time to be shocked. "You need to get this off before you pass out or some shit." Thanos said, and Nam-gyu just nodded, feeling lightheaded already, sobbing hurt, trying to suck in a breath hurt like a bitch.
He turned around with his back to Thanos as he felt the other unclasp the binder, his hands were too shaky to work something out, and he felt instantly relieved, like a pressure in his chest was gone, but he still couldn’t properly breathe. But before he could ponder on it too much, Thanos was already speaking up.
"Try to match your breathing rhythm to mines, in and out very slowly." He finally said, and Nam-gyu complied. After what felt like five minutes, Nam-gyu finally had managed to breathe. Calming down as he let out a shuddering sigh, sniffling and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Great, now he had a headache and he felt pathetic.
He had forgotten about his binder, though. He was snapped out of it when Thanos began awkwardly talking; "You uh, really shouldn’t use that thing for too long. It was too tight, dumbass." The words didn’t have his usual bite to it, he seemed almost.. worried, as if he would be, Nam-gyu thought.
"What else would I wear, then, genius?" He snorted, actually caught off guard when he felt his shirt slip back on and the sound of a jacket unzipping. He turned around to see Thanos handing him his jacket, for some reason it was somewhat baggier than his own. Or maybe Thanos was just looking for an excuse for Nam-gyu to wear it. Either way, he was quick to put it on and zip it up. Maybe he was right, plus, Nam-gyu didn't want bruised ribs.. more than they already were. And his chest really wasn’t that hard to hide either way, Nam-gyu was just a bit paranoid over it, and binding felt more safe.
He sat down and leaned against the wall with his head tilted back, he felt exhausted, really. The silence became somewhat awkward with a tinge of comfort. "I’m not going to judge you, you know that, right?"
Nam-gyu paused, finally catching Thanos’ eyes. "You don’t have to lie if you find me a freak, I mean, hell I’d understand if you didn’t want a fake b—" Before the final words of the sentence could even tip off his tongue, Thanos shushed him.
"Do not say that, you hear me?" Thanos scoffed. "To me, you’re still the same crazy junkie who gets me, I’m not about to kick you out." Nam-gyu felt a weird flutter in his chest and maybe more weight being lifted off of his shoulders.
"I don’t see you any differently from how I used to." Thanos added, averting his gaze. "So, you’ll still give me the pills?" Nam-gyu added jokingly, but deep down he was being slightly serious, as much as he relied on Thanos, those pills kept him somewhat more sane to not hurt himself. "You never change, do you? I would call you a drug addict but I’m nowhere better."
Nam-gyu sniffled, ducking his head down as he let out a quiet smile before looking back up again, and then, their faces were a bit closer than he initially thought they were. And Thanos was looking at his lips. And then the next second, he felt his lips on his own.
They were slightly cracked, chapped against his own as he kissed him back, nothing too rough or demanding, it was pretty.. gentle. His lips felt sweet, and he found himself leaning into it, it was weirdly calming. Soothing to his soul in a way he didn’t quite dislike.
And yet, the moment was just ruined by a guard knocking on the door loudly declaring the lights would shut off soon. They both broke away, and Nam-gyu shoved his binder somewhere inside his pocket, ignoring how it appeared like a bundle inside of it and cleaned his face, following right behind Thanos who went in front.
As expected, most players were already in bed by the time they were there back, Nam-gyu really just felt the need to knock the fuck out, it felt like the only thing that would really calm his headache down.
As they walked towards their designed bunks, Nam-gyu held onto Thanos’ pinky finger, letting the other just lead him, really. He didn’t think much of it when Thanos finally lay down and motioned for him to do the same.
Nam-gyu lay next to Thanos with his back pressed to his chest, closing his eyes that were so heavy that he thought he might as well fall asleep standing up. He felt one arms around his waist, and one on his hair, deftly twirling a strand. It was easy to lull him to sleep, he was already pretty much exhausted anyways.
Maybe Thanos wasn’t the worse person in the world, in the end.
I wrote this while half asleep and while I did my biology work, srry for anything. Also I am not transgender so forgive me if I did anything wrong, I didn’t mean to be offensive in any way!! Anyway, enjoy<3
#thangyu#squid game thanos#player 124#player 230#nam gyu#choi su bong#thanos squid game#squid game season 2#124 x 230#thanos x nam gyu
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Tether
Dr. Phosphorus x GN!Reader
Rick is sent to collect someone from inside of seemingly haunted woods. He realizes he's bit off more than he can chew a little too late.
CW: violence, gun violence, swearing, canon divergence, no use of y/n
Word Count: 2k
A/N: they/them used for reader!! this veers away from the show. it is not set in it. it's just an idea i had and i want to run with it. it probably won't be too many parts/chapters. also, there is an oc in here, she is important to the story. just in case you have feelings about ocs! reader's abilities will be touched on more thoroughly next chapter! divider made by cafekitsune
The woods were considered haunted. They had not always been that way. In fact, they used to be beautiful and lively. But now, a heavy fog and dark shadows shroud them. Not a peep could be heard from inside once in them.
“This can’t be normal.”
“No, Phosphorus,” Rick sighed, “it fucking can’t be normal.”
Bride, Nina, and Weasel stood a little behind Phosphorus, who was directly behind Rick. After what seemed like an hour of trekking through the heavily wooded area, they stumbled upon a cabin.
“This is it.” Nina chimed in from behind them. “This is what the hunter described.”
“You all wait back here,” Rick begins to walk towards the cabin. “I’ll handle this for now.”
Phosphorus groaned but stayed put. The only one seemingly not antsy was Weasel. He stood there, patiently. Or as patiently as he could.
Rick walked onto the porch. He immediately noticed spots of blood scattered on it. The wood creaked loudly; it was very noticeable considering how silent the area had been. Before he could even knock the door was swung open. Someone who could not be older than sixteen stood in front of Rick. She was chewing, no smacking, some gum.
“Who the fuck are you?” The teenager looked Rick up and down, staring at him with distaste.
“I was about to ask you the same question.”
The girl peeked over Rick’s shoulder and noticed the group a little way from the porch. She rolled her eyes. “Well,” She stepped to the side. “I guess you can come in.”
“Huh?” Phosphorus was loud and confused. “You’re going to let some monsters into your home.”
“Not my home.” She shrugged. “Anyway, we’ve been expecting you.”
“We?” Bride asked. “Where is the owner?”
“Resting.” The girl seemed too calm. Rick hummed a response. The girl walked back to the couch and picked up a controller and continued playing some old game. “Any of you want to play with me?” She motioned to another controller. “We’ve got plenty of games! Diddy Kong Racing, Mario 64, and Donkey Kong!” She was excited to share. “I’m positive I’d kick all of your asses simultaneously at any of the games… But I’m not going to stop you from playing.”
Phosphorus looked down the hall. His head cocked to the side. “Where is the owner?” He sounded more assertive than Bride had earlier. “There is no way some kid is living out in these creepy woods by herself.”
“I said they’re resting.” The teenager snapped. “Now get your ass back in here. They don’t like people pokin’ around. I’d hate to see what would happen if they came out to you looking through their home.”
Phosphorus walked towards the steps and huffed. “We need to see them. Who are they? More importantly, who are you?” The doctor turned his head towards the girl.
“I’m Oli.” She gave her name quickly. “And I thought you knew who they were.” Oli mimicked Phosphorus’ huff. “Why else would you be here?”
“We’re here because people have been going missing in these woods. One man got away and was heavily traumatized.”
Oli went pale. “Not people.” She was short. She turned back to her game. She began to play again, and Phosphorus groaned.
“Look, kid!” He shouted. He started to walk towards Oli, and she froze. She went pale. A scream ripped from her throat, and she began to wail for something. For someone. A name Rick was not familiar with ripped through the air, straight from Oli’s lungs.
The house began to shift. The floor creaked and the lights flickered. The TV shut off and Oli fell off the couch and hit the floor, covering her face, still screaming.
“I’m not-” Phosphorus had no time to defend himself.
The wall behind the TV, closest to Oli, became covered in shadows. A black ooze dripped from the center of the wall. A loud crack, the crack of bones, came from the other side of the wall. Wind whipped outside and suddenly birds could be heard all around. The silence had been broken in the worst way possible.
Fingers creeped out from the wall, and then a hand was visible. It grabbed the wall, pulling whoever it belonged to out from the shadows. Bones continued to crack as whatever the fuck was coming from the shadows made its way into reality.
“What the fuck!?” Phosphorus screamed.
A distorted yell came from the person and once they dragged themselves from the shadows, they stood over Oli, protecting her. Their eyes were pitch black, no sclera, and their body cracked as they stood up straight.
“That must be the owner.” Nina said, eyes wide and full of shock.
You had been trying your best to replenish your energy. To recover from the earlier visit. But when you felt Oli’s fear and heard her screaming you could no longer rest. You pulled yourself together long enough to crawl out from your hiding spot.
When you stood over her fearful form and looked up to see the exact people she said would be paying you a visit you groaned.
“Oli,” Your voice was distorted. You peeked down at her before looking back around the room, assessing the situation. “You’re okay.” Your voice slowly returned to something more normal. “Aren’t these the people who you said were coming?”
“Yes.” She sat up and looked up at you with a smile. “They wanted to meet you!” She grinned, proud of herself.
“Excuse me?” You scoffed at her, “You just did all of that for me to come out? You couldn’t just say ‘Hey! The people from the fucking prophecy are here!’ That would be just as effective, Olympia.”
Oli stood up. “Do not call me Olympia.” She gave you a nasty look. “You are not my-” She paused. She took in a deep breath and looked at the TV. “Anyway,” She turned it back on, “I gotta restart my game now. Because you turned the TV off when you showed up.” Her voice was low. “Go take care of whatever the fuck they need you for.”
You narrowed your eyes at Oli and turned back to the group of people in your home. “Sorry about, uh, earlier,” You gave them a nervous smile. Your eyes had returned to their normal color, “unless of course you came to kill me. Then I’m not sorry and you will not be leaving this property-”
“We are not here to kill you. My name is Rick, and we are investigating the missing people-”
You interrupted him. “Missing? They’re where they belong. Those men were fucking evil.” You rolled your eyes. “I try to keep this place unreachable. And yet, some people just cannot help themselves.” You glanced towards Oli. “Look, I’ll let you all go. I’ll make a path for you. It’ll be safe. I’ll even let a little sun come in, but I’m not going anywhere. We aren’t going anywhere.”
Rick ran a hand through his hair. “That hunter that escaped, was he…-”
“Oh!” You waved a hand around, “He was just a hunter. Happened to see a little too much, but he seemed like a nice enough guy.” You walked towards your front door and opened it. “I hate that I didn’t get to know all of your names, but… goodbye!” You smiled widely at them and motioned for them to leave.
“No.” Rick stood his ground. “What the fuck are you two doing out here? You just have this kid out in the middle of nowhere, where are her parents?”
“Dead.” Oli looked back from the TV and at Rick. “My family is fucking dead.” She paused her game and stood up. “Did Waller not tell you that? Or did she not know?” Oli snapped. She walked past you and straight towards Rick.
“Who’s Waller?” You asked, while quickly placing yourself in the middle of her and Rick. “What are you not telling me, Oli?”
Rick looked down at Oli with the amount of confusion you seemed to be in. “We were not aware you were here. We were told to bring them,” he pointed to you, “in. That is the extent of our knowledge.”
Oli’s nails were digging into her palms. Something in her seemed to snap. “You are not doing that!” She snarled at Rick. You tried to calm her. “That is not- I didn’t see that! You’re supposed to help us!” She had tears in her eyes.
“Olympia!” You grabbed her face. “What are you talking about?”
Her eyes glazed over, and her knees buckled. You were quick to grab her and hold her up and keep her from hitting the floor.
“What is happening?”
You looked up to see the obviously irradiated skeleton speaking. “She- She’s-” You did not get to finish your sentence. Oli sucked in air harshly, and her eyes widened. She looked at you in fear. You felt every ounce of her fear. Your stomach flipped.
“Oli,” your voice was soft, “What did you see?”
“Me-” She sucked down a sob, tears filling her eyes. “Dead.”
You sat at the kitchen table with Oli. You had insisted your visitors leave, she insisted on them staying. Because of that, you had learned who each of them was. Bride, Dr. Phosphorus, Nina, and your personal favorite: Weasel.
You grabbed water for Oli and sat down beside her. “It could be nothing.” You tried to reassure her, keep her calm.
“My visions are never ‘nothing’.” Oli sipped on her water. She sighed and looked past you and at the group of people in your home. “I haven’t been telling you everything…” She shut her eyes tight and gripped the glass in her hand. “The people who are coming to these woods, they aren’t coming for me. They’re coming for you.” She looked at you with a scared look.
“Well,” Dr. Phosphorus clapped his hands together and began to walk towards you, “we’d better get you out of here then!”
“I can’t leave her!” You snapped at him.
At the same time, Oli whispered “I can’t leave them.” She sounded defeated.
“Why?” Nina cocked her head. “Do you not have anyone else?”
You were growing frustrated. “No!” You pulled Oli into your arms and stood over her as she sat at the table. “Her family is gone! She was wanted for her abilities. I took her in and she’s safe with me-”
“I’m their tether.” Oli sounded distant. You froze, arms falling slightly, but not leaving her sides. You were shocked she would give that information away so freely. “If I die-” She stopped talking and closed her eyes tight.
“What is she talking about?” Rick swallowed hard. Things got a lot harder if what she was saying was true.
“I’m their tether,” She repeated. “You know how when a baby duck imprints on, like, a human?” She looked back at the group of monsters standing in your home.
“What does that have to do with this?” Bride crossed her arms.
“We found each other in times of need. And somehow, their need was much greater than mine. I’m keeping them sort of… holding onto humanity.”
You were standing there silent. She was talking like you were not even there. So, you decided to speak up. “If she dies, I’ll feel it. And I’m afraid of what I will do.” You watched the group, face deadpan. “I’m not leaving here. We are both safe here.”
There was a heavy silence before Dr. Phosphorus spoke up. “That’s too fucking bad, we need you to come with us.”
You groaned. And then you felt it. Something was getting close to your cabin. Your hair stood on end, your head snapped towards the window behind you and walked towards it. Oli pouted, she knew what that meant by now. You tried to pinpoint where they were coming from. Your head began to pound.
“What are you do-”
The window shattered and a bullet flew through, hitting you straight in the forehead. You heard Oli scream. Her fear was palpable. She was at your side in a second. “There’s blood!” Oli wailed. “They can’t even bleed!” Her screams wrecked you. Everything went black.
#dr phosphorus#creature commandos#creature commandos x reader#dr phosphorus x reader#dc x reader#dcu
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My hot take of the week this week is that 90% of the reasons Halsin haters hate him is that they played a game of telephone with other Halsin haters and hurt their own feelings becoming convinced that shit that no rational person would conclude from canon are real.
IE: "Halsin is a complete freak who fucks anything that moves" started with a bunch of SH fans who were offended she wasn't a goth tradwife for them, but then morphed into: Halsin fucked Tusk the boar, Halsin said he could fix Astarion's rape trauma with a threesome, Halsin was inappropriate with Thaniel and probably touched him, Orin's scene impersonating Halsin where she implies he lose control of his bear form and mauled a bunch of children was ACTUALLY implying his bear form raped those children, Halsin fucked the worgs in the goblin camp because if you kill Dror Ragzlin before meeting him and ask where Halsin is, he says Halsin is 'rutting' down in the worg pens and as we all know, villains are never needlessly insulting to heroes, he creepily calls himself 'daddy Halsin' at the end to refer to raising orphans which means he 100% is conflating being a sexual 'daddy dom' with raising children which makes him a pedophile... (All posts I have encountered in the wild, by the way)
Basically all the Halsin hate is them getting themselves worked up into a hysteria by Halsin being a sexual person, and then twisting everything Halsin does to be about sex even when sex is implied NOWHERE in the conversation but they make it so in their imaginations because they see Halsin mentioned and assume it must be sex, and then using that as further proof Halsin is nothing but sex, and even a sexual predator, because look at all these things that definitely happened!
And it never once occurs to them that maybe THEY'RE the creeps for thinking Halsin playing matchmaker for the animals at the Grove ACTUALLY means he was fucking them.
There are valid reasons one may DISLIKE Halsin, but outright hate almost always comes from people this detached from reality and lacking any form of media literacy.
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So let's talk about Kant, shall we?
Kant who lost his parents to a capsizing accident i assume, as a fucking child. Kant who had to take care of his probably just a new born brother when he himself was dealing with the loss of his parents, a whole new fear of water and the mindset of a literal child. Kant who probably had to move from relatives' houses or foster care systems, fight to keep himself and his brother together. Kant who had to turn to a a life of crime, a life he is clearly not cut out for, to send himself to school, to send his brother to school. Kant who is a good friend, even though he is a little shitty for sending Style blindly into danger. But you know that he wouldve personally killed Fadel had anything happened to Style because of this. Kant who was downright ready to fight the entire school for his brother. Kant who fell for this guy in just one night spent together. Kant who is so desparate to not lose his brother that he all but sells himself to the police. Kant who betrays the love of his life, betrays his best friend, betrays his own self but still tries his best to lay himself bare infront of the most dangerous guy he knows. Kant who makes it a point to observe everything about Bison, because he does want to give him the time of his life all the time. Kant who jumped into the ocean, his biggest fear, because it means that maybe just maybe Bison will believe that he does earnestly love him.
And then there's these fuckheads who hate him. He is the most well written character in this show, in most shows ive seen lately. And he's getting so much hate just because media literacy and comprehension is just an illusion to some of these people apparently.
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perv! matt x innocent! reader ♡
part 4 ❤︎ wet dreams
hcs - 1 - 2 - 3
❤︎ description: matt wakes up from a wet dream and starts to text you about it, but you invite him over instead. (in matt’s pov)
❤︎ warnings: pure smut, explicit content, f! receiving oral
❤︎ w/c: 4834
❤︎ matt’s texts are in blue!
matt woke up in agonizing pain. it hurt, badly. if he didn’t get some kind of release sometime soon, he would probably lose it. he was going insane.
his first ever wet dream about you. in between your thighs; kissing you, licking you, tasting you. in his dreams, you tasted fucking phenomenal. you gripped on his hair tightly and fucked his face as he devoured your sweet cunt.
in his dream, he was in absolute heaven, but it was just a dream.
so, when matt woke up with the biggest hard on he’s had in his entire life and a huge wet patch against the front of his boxers, he wasn’t sure what to do. he groaned in pain, throwing his head back against the pillow as he moved his hand to push his hardened bulge down repeatedly to try and stop the intense sensation.
thank god he slept alone because this was truly embarrassing. he thought he was done with this shit. he’s had wet dreams before when he was younger, but that was self explanatory. he had no excuse for this one.
well, maybe he does. you were on his mind every second of every day. ever since the moment you two shared in the closet at nick’s party, it was all he could think about. your lips against his neck, sucking on his skin and leaving behind the most beautiful bruise he wished would’ve stayed longer. he had that reminder left on his skin of you making him feel fucking amazing and when it faded, he kept it imprinted in his brain.
he let out a soft groan out of frustration. it was no use. nothing was helping. he thought to himself maybe now that they’ve had some interactions, he would actually have the courage to be vocal about what he wanted and needed.
matt moved his hand over to grab his phone off the nightstand. maybe he should just stop being so scared and actually say what he wanted for once.
truth is, he’s wanted you for so long. ever since he laid his eyes on you, he’s been hooked. infatuated. obsessed. the obsession with you happened very quickly and has only progressed rapidly over the years. he was one of your best friends, but he always knew it was more than that. at least for him, anyway. he looked out for you, was there for you if you needed him. it was like he wanted you to come to him for comfort and support so he can show you how a man should treat you. he hated seeing you hurt and just wanted to protect you from it all.
he was so obsessed with you to the point that you were all he could think about. it was driving him fucking insane. he wanted you and every part of you.
it became so unbearably hard because he knew he couldn’t have you. you never seemed to feel the same way because you were always so independent and carefree and even when you had dates with other boys, he still wanted you. it devastated him to see you get your heart broken, wishing he could pick up the pieces and put your mended heart back together.
he always assumed you’d never feel the same way , not until recently. ever since you noticed your panties in his back pocket the night you all watched a movie together, he felt as if maybe you were finally noticing him and who he truly was, rather than just the awkwardness in his personality. maybe you were starting to actually notice him. he did tell you how much he’s always wanted you. he was vocal about that for once.
matt let out a groan, the uncomfortable hardness not going away any time soon as he opened up his phone and immediately tapped on your name.
i had a dream about you last night and i can’t stop thinking about it.
matt’s heart quickened as he sent the message. within seconds, bubbles started to appear on the screen.
oh you did? what was it about?
it’s kind of embarassing..
come over and tell me about it. i’m making breakfast, you can have some while you rant.
give me 10.
matt immediately got out of bed and threw on a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt, trying to push his hard on away so it wasn’t completely evident when he went over to your house. he knew just telling you about it and standing right in front of you would only make his cock even more excited, so he decided to just say fuck it and try to hurry as fast as he can. he needed to see you.
after brushing his teeth and trying his best to look decent, he scurried his way out of his house. thank god you only lived next door and not across town. nick and chris were still asleep so at least he didn’t have to explain to his brothers where he was going so early in the morning with a fucking hard on in his pants.
he knocked only twice before coming face to face with you. he couldn’t help but scan you up and down, taking in your beautiful appearance. your hair was up in a messy bun with strands of hair falling onto the sides of your face, your oversized t-shirt covered your entire upper body but showed off your amazing toned legs. all you had on was a pair of lacy panties underneath. usually you didn’t want anyone seeing you like this, but it was matt. he’d stare at you like this no matter what you looked like.
“um, hey.” he said kind of awkwardly, his hand immediately falling into his tousled brown locks. “thanks for letting me stop by.” he could still feel the lingering hard on that was throbbing in his pants and it wasn’t helping that he was now face to face with the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.
he tried desperately not to stare at your body as you stood there, a smile widening on your face. the wafting aroma of pancakes lingered in the air and filled his nostrils. he knew you loved to cook, no matter what kind of food it was. you always liked to try different recipes and have your loved ones try them. it was like one of your many love languages. “hi matt! of course! as soon as i knew you were stopping by, i put more on the pan.”
you bounced on your heels, your smile only widening as you shut the door behind him once he steps inside. fuck, were you so fucking addictive. your personality in itself is so damn contagious and he wanted to be around you all the damn time.
“oh, thank you. aren’t you a sweetheart?” hell yeah you were.
his eyes scan over the room before averting his eyes to your ass as you turn around and motion for him to follow you into the kitchen. you looked fucking amazing even in just a big t-shirt. he ended up envisioning you wearing only his shirt and lounging around the house and that thought was not helping his still evident hard on that you obviously noticed the second you opened the door for him. he got lost in his thoughts and snapping out of them immediately once he heard your voice.
“come on! they’re almost done.” you called out to him as you stood at the stove, your hips swaying as you flip the pancake in the pan.
matt gulped slowly, suddenly feeling nervous as he walks into the kitchen to join you and leans against the kitchen island as he watches you intently. even when you’re in your element, you looked effortlessly beautiful. how come everything you did made him fall for you ten times harder?
“they smell amazing. you didn’t have to make me any.”
you turned around to raise your eyebrow at him with a stern look on your face. “nope. you’re having as many as you want. i wanted to.” you finished off the rest of the pancake mix, letting it sit in the pan to form before turning to look back over at him. he looked nervous and on edge standing there; like he so badly wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure how to.
your eyes glared down to the hardened bulge that outlined the center of his sweatpants. how was he hard already? you fought the urge to bite down on your bottom lip, your cheeks already growing warm as you immediately averted your eyes back to his.
he caught on to your subtle staring, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink as well. “thanks. i’ll have some, then.”
you came back to your senses, flashing him a wide grin before turning your attention back to the pancakes that were now done and cooling off. as you waited for them to cool off, you moved over next to him and hopped up onto the chair at the kitchen island. “so, tell me about this dream you had of me.” you wiggled your eyebrows up at him playfully, a light giggle emitting from your lips.
his cheeks turned a darker shade of pink as he immediately averted his eyes down at the marbled surface before back up at you. “well, it wasn’t just an ordinary dream. the dream had me waking up like, really fucking hard actually.” his cheeks flushed even more, his eyes moving back down and not being able to hold eye contact with you as he says this. “in the dream, it felt so real though. like fuck, i wanted it to be real.” he let out a nervous laugh, his knee beginning to bounce which was one of his nervous habits.
it’s not that he was nervous of you or being around you. he fucking loved being around you and tried to find any excuse to do so. it’s the idea of you knowing he’s capable of having these thoughts about you even if he’s already voiced it before. having dreams about you though? he’s never had one like it before.
this piqued your interest as you kept your eyes focused on him. “what happened in it, matt? you can tell me.” your voice was soft and reassuring. you wanted to make sure he knew that you weren’t judging him. you were also intrigued since the moment he texted you. you just had to know what the dream was about, especially since it involved you.
“well, it’s kind of something i’ve been wantin’ to do for awhile and maybe that’s why i dreamt of it but it got me really goin’-“ he stopped his words, feeling absolutely flustered, his cheeks reddening by the second. his eyes moved over to yours once again, your eyes now locked together in an intense gaze. you weren’t able to read him. all you could tell was that he was completely flustered and when you looked down at the center of his sweatpants, you could visibly see he was harder than he was before he stepped foot into your house.
“matt..” you spoke immediately, moving off your chair to move over next to him, your hand now resting against his shoulder, your eyes still locked together. the poor thing was a nervous wreck. you thought it was fucking adorable. he was so flustered, unable to speak. “it’s okay. instead of explaining to me what happened, why don’t you show me? actions speak louder than words don’t they?” you flashed him a sly smirk, your fingertips running down his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt before slowly moving your hand up to his hair and running your fingers through his tousled locks and gave his hair a slight tug. “it’s okay, sweetheart. show me.”
something switched in matt after you spoke. his eyes began to darken with lust and desire as he stared up at you from the chair he was sitting on. you could swear you heard matt whine from you tugging on his hair. you stood there next to him, your fingers wrapped up in his locks as you kept your gaze focused on him.
without any hesitation, matt immediately moved his hands over to the back of thighs and down to your ass to lift you up against him with your legs immediately wrapping around his waist as he walks you over to the counter and sets you down onto it. a soft, surprised gasp emits from your lips at his sudden movements. you loved seeing matt like this. he was usually so cautious and embarrassed easily, but when he lost control which wasn’t often, it was incredibly hot and so attractive.
fuck. the boy really does want you, doesn’t he? you spent countless hours throughout the last couple weeks wondering his true feelings and if you reciprocated those feelings for him. when matt does things to surprise you like this, it turns you on and leaves you wanting more. you didn’t realize matt was capable of being this way and you were slowly becoming obsessed with seeing him lose control.
your eyes lock together in an intense gaze, your hands resting onto his shoulders now. “show me, matt. please.” you pleaded, your own eyes filling with desire. your legs wrapped around his waist tighter to pull him closer to you, your hand moving up to run through his brunette locks. you were becoming addicted to the feeling of his hair between your fingers. adrenaline ran throughout your body from your head to your toes. “you don’t have to hold back.” you whispered out, giving his hair another slight tug which drawled out a soft whine from matt’s lips. okay yeah, you fucking loved this.
the words that fell from your lips were all it took for matt to finally break away any shyness and flustered feelings he had before. seeing you like this; pleading him not to hold back, to have him show you what his dream was and giving him the permission to make that dream a reality. he needed this. he needed you. he immediately placed his hands onto your bare thighs, your oversized shirt already rising up from where you sat on the counter. he moved one hand up your bare thigh underneath your shirt against your side, your fingertips drumming against the hem of your lacy panties “oh fuck.” he breathed out, already seeming breathless just by the touch of the lace covering the most intimate part of you. the part he needed to touch, kiss, taste in this very moment.
your body immediately jolted forward at his touch against your skin and teasingly pulling on your panties. his other hand moved up to place his index and middle finger underneath your chin to allow your eyes to lock together in an intense gaze. his blue eyes turned darker than usual. you could tell how much he needed you in this moment. as if he was an animal that was malnourished and needed to be fed. he needed to taste you. now.
you lifted your hips up slightly to allow him to remove your panties down your legs. you watched his every move as his fingers tugged your panties down, his eyes not being able to take his eyes off your pretty lace panties that were once covered by your pretty pussy that he needed so much. you were already soaking wet and it was evident with a small amount of your arousal coating them before allowing them to fall down onto the kitchen floor. this very moment felt so intimate, so fucking right and your cheeks were fucking burning from how much you were blushing.
you never thought this would ever happen, but you weren’t complaining. he spread both of your legs immediately with both of his palms, the pad of his thumbs caressing the inside of your thighs in smooth, slow circles. your breath hitched as you stared down at him, watching his every move. his hardened cock was pressing against his tightened sweatpants, begging to be free, but he didn’t seem phased by it one bit. all he could focus on was that he finally had you in the palm of his hand and he was savoring every fucking second of it.
“god, your skin is so smooth. feeling s’good against my fingertips.” he whispered this in a sultry tone, so unlike his usual voice. it was so fucking hot you felt like you might combust right then and there. you knew he could feel the heat radiating from your core as his hand inched up higher, closer to your sweet cunt.
he moved his hand to your bare hip, your shirt riding up everytime his hand moved. you melted against his touch. your breathing getting hitched in your throat. you didn’t know what to say, if you even could speak. all you could do was watch him lose and take control and have you at his mercy. his fingers caressed your inner thighs underneath your shirt in a teasing manner and it made you want to scream, needing him to touch you where you wanted it the most.
you had to be patient though. he’s wanted you for so long, you knew he wouldn’t just walk out without showing you exactly what he dreamt about.
“spread your legs f’me. need you. now.” he spoke this is a dominant, rough tone through gritted teeth. it was almost as if he was about to combust from how much he’s needed you for so damn long and he was finally getting to have a taste of you.
you did as you were told, spreading your legs wider against the countertop. fuck, this was so dirty and so hot and your head was spinning, your mind clouded with dirty thoughts and consumed of nothing but matt and how he’s wanted this for so long. maybe you have, too.
your shirt rose up completely now and you took the initiative to place your shirt directly at your hips and hoped it would stay there and not get in the way. your breath felt like it was caught in your throat at this point as you stared at him. his eyes were hungry, needy, and full built up lust and want. “been wantin’ this for so long. so fuckin’ long, sweet girl.” he used his fingers to cup underneath your chin in a rough manner , your eyes staying locked together firmly.
“a little taste won’t hurt.” you breathed out, already shaking with anticipation and adrenaline that rushed through you. your spread legs and bent your knees as you sat on the edge of the counter as he bent down onto his knees and suddenly he was face to face with your sweet, pretty pussy.
“holy shit.” he breathed out, a soft groan already emitting from his lips at the sight of your glistening arousal. your core was throbbing already, desperate and needing matt any way he was willing to give you. “fuck. you truly are beautiful, every single fuckin’ inch of you.” he caressed your inner thighs with his hands, your skin feeling like butter against his fingertips.
your cheeks were bright red at this point as he continued to stare at your sweet pussy, practically drooling at the sight. he had wanted this for so long and so many times he had imagined what you looked like when he’d take your underwear just to put them around his cock as he pumped it in his hand, cumming all over the lacy fabric with your name falling from his lips. now he gets to have you, inches close to tasting you.
his finger ran across your glistening folds, admiring your pretty pussy and how wet you were for him. your cheeks were bright red as he continued to stare longingly at you, not being able to quite take his eyes off you as his finger slowly rubbed your swollen nub.
his hot and hot heavy breath lingered against your center, feeling yourself growing more soaked by the second. he looked up at you from the position he was in on his knees in front of you, his eyes full of lust and need. “such a beautiful fuckin’ pussy, sweetheart. god, look at you.”
before you could even reply to his words, he immediately leaned forward and dove his head in between your thighs, his tongue running up and down against your glistening folds causing your body to jolt forward against the feeling of his tongue finally against you. your hand insrantly found his hair again and ran your fingers throughout his hair, a soft moan leaving your lips. fuck, his tongue felt so good against you.
he dreamt of this for so long. the taste of your arousal coated his tongue as he began to lap his tongue against your glistening folds, swirling his tongue around in several directions as he hummed against you to send vibrations down your core. you were throbbing immensely and the feeling of his tongue finally against you was so damn rewarding. you couldn’t believe this was happening and you didn’t want it to stop.
his tongue plunges into your core repeatedly, lapping up your sweet juices as they coat his tongue. your fingers wrap around his hair tighter and pull onto his head to dive his head more into your center. you wrap your legs around his face which causes a groan to erupt from his throat and send vibrations down to your core. you throw your head back against the kitchen cabinet. you refuse to close your eyes, wanting to savor this moment as long as possible.
watching him eat you out was the hottest fucking thing. you didn’t want it to end. fire coursed throughout your veins, sending shockwaves down to your body at the feeling his tongue rolling along your glistening folds before he began to suck onto your swollen clit and taking it between his lips. he sucked onto it hungrily, lapping his tongue against it each and every time he’d let it go. he devoured your pussy hungrily, not being able to stop. “o-oh fuck. matt. that’s feels.. so nice.” you moan out your words, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging hard.
he looked up at you as he continued to devour you, running his tongue up and down your glistening wet folds, moaning against your center as he opens up his eyes to look up at you. he’s mesmerized by how your face looks when you throw your head back in absolute ecstasy. fuck, he’s been dreaming about this for so long and now he’s finally getting a taste of you.
he pulled away just for a second to breathe, licking over his lips hungrily like he was already having withdrawals. you pulled one hand away from his hair to place against your own chest, massaging your breast through the fabric of your shirt. you looked down at him, your arousal glistening against his lips. the loss of his tongue made you whine, but you locked your eyes with him, already looking fucked out. “fuck, sweet girl. you taste so divine. got me addicted to this pussy.” he spoke in a sultry tone, licking over his own lips once more.
“can’t stop.” was all he said breathlessly, flashing you a sly smirk before diving back in between your thighs. his hands moved to your inner thighs to hold you still as he ran his tongue up and down your glistening cunt. he waited for so long to be able to taste you and he couldn’t believe this was actually fucking happening.
he sucked onto your swollen clit, lapping his tongue against it repeatedly as your legs begin to shake from the pleasure filling inside of you. “f-fuck!” you shouted out, gripping onto his hair to keep his head in place so he wouldn’t move away from your center, not that he’d want to. he could tell you were getting closer to your orgasm. he didn’t stop, continuing to roll his tongue along your glistening pussy, moaning against you with the taste of you driving him absolutely fucking insane.
you were so close to your orgasm. your body began to shake and tremble with fire coursing throughout your veins. you didn’t want this to end, but you didn’t know how much longer you could hold on. you continued to grip onto his hair to hold his face in place as you watched him devour your pussy like a starved man, addicted to your taste. addicted to you. “oh, fuck matt! i’m s-s-so close!” you stuttered your words as you moaned loudly, profanities falling from your lips as your heart raced rapidly in your chest.
god, he looked so fucking good between your legs. you wished you had your phone to take a picture for later, you’d already keep it engraved in your brain anyway. he gripped harder on your thighs to hold you still as you tried to rock your hips up into him, in an attempt to fuck his face as he sucked onto your clit feverishly. he pulled away just for a moment to look back up at you, his lips curving into a devious smirk as he licked over his lips hungrily. “cum for me, sweet girl. been needin’ to taste you for so long. cum on my tongue and let me taste you. wanna see you when you cum f’me. keep your eyes open, alright ma? don’t be shy now.”
he immediately went back to licking your swollen bud repeatedly, sucking onto it and moaning against you, your eyes locked together. you made sure to keep your eyes opened the entire time just like he demanded. hearing his dirty words and watching him fucking devour you is what caused you to get sent over the edge. you didn’t realize how badly you needed this until you saw him between your thighs, eating you out like his life depended on it.
suddenly, your body began to shake as your orgasm rushed through you, your fingers tugging onto his head harshly as you pushed your hips into his face, your orgasm sending shockwaves throughout your entire body as you cum on his tongue, moaning out in ecstasy, his name falling from your lips. he watched you the entire time, your eyes locking together in an intense gaze, moans falling from your lips. he couldn’t take his eyes off you. he couldn’t fucking believe this was happening after all this time.
he lapped up your juices as you allowed your orgasm to rush through you, your arousal coating his tongue as he moaned against your pussy. your heart beat rapidly in your chest, sweat glistening against your forehead. you look incredibly fucked out and hazed, your fingers lazily running through his messy locks. even in your post orgasm haze, he believed you were the most beautiful girl in the world. fucking magnificent. he used a tongue to lick your now overly sensitive clit to get one more taste before pulling away from your thighs. he used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth that was covered in your juices, a now shy smile appearing onto his lips as he stared up at you.
he got back onto his feet to stand before you, your legs now closed and you pull your shirt back down as you try to find the strength in them to jump off the counter, but your legs felt like jello. your eyes moved from his lips and back up into his eyes. you didn’t know what this meant moving forward, but you couldn’t fucking believe this happened.
“a fuckin dream come true. literally. thank you, sweet girl.” his own breathing was labored as he licked over his lips and stared at you with his cheeks reddened tremendously. he’s back to his usual shy self. “been wantin’ that for awhile.”
your chest heaved up and down, your head resting against the kitchen cabinet. your eyes move down to the evident hardened bulge in his pants, a wet spot forming against the fabric. he was incredibly turned on just from tasting you. you didn’t know if he wanted you to return the favor or not, but the sight of him completely hard for you was such a turn on.
he caught your eyes, moving his eyes down to his own hardened cock before back up into your eyes. he had come here because of this same problem, but this time he wouldn’t be leaving in complete agony. at least he finally got to taste you. he bent down to grab your damp lacy panties that were still on the ground and immediately places them in his pocket, flashing you a small smirk.
“enjoy your breakfast, sweetheart. i sure as hell enjoyed mine.”
taglist-
@sturnshood @strangelife122 @jessie-essie @giveheavensomehell @rina3476 @chrissturnioloslvt @sturnslutz @forgottxen @matthewsturnsgf @christmastreecake @rinahasspots @222wall876 @chris-hallelujah @izzylovesmatt @strniloslvts @oopsiedaisydeer @sophand4n4 @sturniololuv08 @xclusivedesires
a/n- thank you to @sturnshood for helping me with the idea! i wouldn’t of been able to write this without you. thank you thank you, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me i love you!
thank you to everyone who’s read this au and has supported me! i want to continue it for as long as i can, so if you have any ideas, questions for me or just wanna talk in general please don’t hesitate to send a message in my inbox!
i love you guys! :)
-nessa ღ
#sturniolo triplets#sturniolos#sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolotriplets#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo au#matt sturniolo fic#matt sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo fic#perv!matt#innocent!reader#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo au#blushsturnsღ
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