#It's been mostly fun but the hate is getting worse and worse on here

[acphengene]

Sweets

₊ ⁺ pairing: Jungwon x afab!reader

₊ ⁺ genre: soulmate au, pining, tiny bit of angst and as always sappy shit

₊ ⁺ word count: 3.3k

₊ ⁺ the second story for this little au i decided to throw together. thank you all so much for supporting, and once again let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list

₊ ⁺ Jake ₊ ⁺ Jungwon ₊ ⁺ Jay ₊ ⁺ Sunoo ₊ ⁺ Heeseung ₊ ⁺ Niki ₊ ⁺ Sunghoon ₊ ⁺

When Jungwon got his mark it had taken him a while to figure out what it was. In the beginning he thought he was just having very vivid cravings for sweets or some very specific lasagna he had never had. But after his mother had dragged him to the doctor the secret was finally revealed, his mark was taste.

It could’ve been a lot worse, he knew that. And if he was being honest he found it fun most of the time, the only downside was that you ate breakfast when he ate dinner and the two things rarely suited each other very well.

He had a theory that you deliberately ate the sweetest things in the mornings for that exact reason, but it was a hard one to prove when the two of you hadn’t met yet. But as time passed he learned to eat early or late, all depending on whether or not he would want dessert before or after his dinner.

When he was on I-land the food was whatever young boys wanted to make after a long day. Sure Jay did his best but in the end, they were young and instant ramen seemed like the easy way to go.

It had ended up getting so bad you started eating salads for the first time in your life, no doubt an indicator that he seriously needed to take care of himself and his health. He had laughed at that but tried to listen.

When he debuted he knew he had a platform bigger than most, so he did his best to make sure he was eating whenever he was on camera. It could be small things and snacks, maybe even full on meals, because maybe you were a fan watching along? He hoped you were.

And then he went viral… for something as basic as strawberries with chocolate.

“Dude it’s everywhere…” Sunoo said as he checked weverse in the middle of dance practice. He hid his head in his hands.

“I know” he groaned. “God it’s so stupid, of everything I could be eating it had to be the most generic thing ever”

Jake laughed. “It could be worse, it could’ve been bread with butter or plain rice”

“Any response yet? Like did she maybe eat it too? You know, as some kind of bat-signal?” Heeseung asked as he threw a soul-bandaid on his knee, it was hurting yet again.

He just shook his head. No, there was nothing. You liked sweets, he knew that much, but you currently had an obsession with some kind of pastry he himself had never tried and unfortunately not chocolate covered strawberries.

But he now knew what he had to do to go viral, so he milked the meme for absolutely everything it had. Unfortunately you seemed to be annoyed at all the chocolate covered things he ate, and got the habit of eating a slice of lemon shortly after.

He hated it, mostly because it was a disgusting combination but also because it led to a lot of wierd facial expressions, all who became memes for engene to utilize.

He threw himself in bed and yelled into the pillows. “You okay?” Sunghoon said as he had overheard the commotion.

“Yeah it’s just getting annoying,” Jungwon said. “It’s been years and I’m no way near finding her”

“Don’t worry too much, she’ll come running with years worth of memes when the times right” the older man laughed as his leader.

“I’m sorry Hoon” he said silently, as he picked at a thread in one of his pillows that had come loose.

Sunghoon just shrugged: “don’t be, I’m used to it. Now come down for dinner before Jay comes up here and rip both of our heads off”

He knew that Sunghoon was right, and he knew he should be great full for you being out there communicating one way or another.

So how did he show you where in the world he was? He started eating nothing but Korean, he mixed and matched and had fun with the food. Sometimes waiting for retaliation if you didn’t like whatever he ordered, but it never really came.

One night while on a set you however finally ate something as simple as kimchi fried rice but it made him ekstatic.

“I think she figured it out” he said to the only couple of the group, as Jake cuddled close to his soulmate.

“You sure?” He asked and the two perked up.

Jungwon nodded. “She’s eating kimchi fried rice” and I think she might’ve made it herself, you know with a package of kimchi”

“That’s a good sign isn’t it?” Niki said as he reached out for his string and gave it a tug. His own way of showing he thought of his other half.

“Yeah I think so” he nodded excitedly.

You had indeed figured it out, as you had grown up you decided to stop fooling around when it came to your mark, even though you sometimes couldn’t help it. But when the Korean food became the only thing he ate, you had to think that maybe, just maybe he for once was try to tell you something other than the fact that he liked chocolate.

So you researched recipes, sure you worked with sweets and baked goods but you did have experience with the more savory side of the culinary kitchen. And Korean seemed to fit so you tested that out, all the while you researched the culture, the language and of course the sweets.

It didn’t take long for you to book a ticket to Seoul, desperate to try some of the delicious meals your other half kept eating. Some of your friends tried to convince you to just stay back home and test the recipes there, but they just never hit the spot.

As you touched down the only thing you knew all you needed was some type of comfort food, so you went searching.

The days you spent in Seoul made Jungwon extracting and almost unable to concentrate, he knew you were close, he could feel it, taste it.

Whenever he had the chance he went searching for you in the restaurants and cafes. On that specific day you were a little sad, he was harder to find than you had expected, and when you were sad you craved sweets.

In a little stand not far from your hotel you found a lady who sold tanghulu, and the treat looked delicious. And while your ordered it a group of younger girls came and asked for the one thing you had done your best to avoid; “strawberries with chocolate”

You saw how the lady herself rolled her eyes, and when you asked about it they all tried explaining it was a trend for fans, all because this one leader kept eating chocolate on absolutely everything,

As they spoke you felt something pull on your heartstrings and for some reason you decided to search it up. It could after all just be a coincidence… right?

There was no doubt in your mind, it had to be him. But then again you couldn’t help but feel delusional, just because both your soulmate and Jungwon, leader of Enhypen, both liked the same type of foods didn’t mean they were the same person.

You would have to test it out, and god you already felt with both his and your tastebuds.

Another live, another slice of lemon, but this time it had a hint of chili as well. You had been out of control lately and he hated it, where you had previously been somewhat predictable you had now just completely lost your head.

“I’m getting sick and tired of you spitting out my food” Jay said with judging look one evening.

“How do you think I’m feeling?” He just answered with hopeless eyes.

“Have you thought about making a diary? You know for all the wierd things they’re doing?” Sunoo asked.

If he was honest he had considered it, it just seemed silly to do so. He sighed. “I got nothing else to loose I guess”

Unlike Jungwon you had that thought as soon as you suspected him of being yours. And every day, close to whenever you suspected his last meal to have been you made a list of everything he had eaten, and everything you had too.

You knew it would be frustrating with the insane amount of lemons you just kept eating, but what was a girl to do?

One day you got a notification from Weverse, “I hate lemons” was all he wrote and you smiled harder than you ever had and then you plopped the infamous strawberry into your mouth.

Jungwon almost fell down his chair. His hands were shaking and he felt how he suddenly had tears in his eyes.

“What?” Heeseung looked at him as his eyes glazed over.

“I - I don’t know” Jungwon whispered. He didn’t dare to hope that this meant what he thought it might. But as soon as all there was left was the after taste, it was replaced with a chocolate cookie, that then was replaced by a chocolate covered almond.

Jungwon left his members behind and hid his face in his hands in one of the corners of the room. Heeseung was by his side a second later.

“Hey, what’s going on” He pulled the younger man into his chest as he held him close while he cried. He sent the remaining boys panicked eyes, and they made sure to empty out the room to give their leader a bit of privacy.

“She knows who I am” Jungwon sobbed into his hyungs chest and the comment gained loud cheers from all of his brothers as he tried to catch his breath.

“I’m so jealous!” Sunoo said, and couldn’t help but worry about his own soulmates heart as he knew their vision had just flashed every color under the sun.

“So what do we do now?” Niki asked.

They looked at one another but the room remained quiet, none of them had any idea what so ever. The mark the two of you shared made it a little harder to locate one another. Unless you ate something, somewhere in the city that Jungwon visited regularly, it was close to impossible. Especially since you couldn’t just walk through the front door at HYBE.

“I guess I’ll just have to wait until she figures something out” He answered as he dried his eyes. “Not let’s get back to work!” The kitten had once again become the leader.

You spent the next few days eating the same desert at almost 2 am every night. He knew it meant something, so he sent assistants out every night to collect anything even a little similar to the sweet, at every cafe close to their office and dorm. But every day he had to fall asleep disappointed, and you fell asleep with a stomach ache.

The guys were working on a comeback and had been in the studio until the late hours of the night, some might even call it in the early mornings. Heeseungs directions were almost as strict as Woozi’s were, at least if Jay were to believe Jun, as he had sat in on a session to provide feedback. The many sweets did however cause the guys to expect it every night, especially since Jungwon always was the one paying for them.

One night they were on their way home, this time the guys themselves stopped at yet another open cafe. Niki and Jake went in to pick up the large order.

“Picking up for Sim” Niki said with a somewhat low voice despite the almost empty room. He heard Jake laughed quietly, and he got a pointed finger at a young woman hitting her head against the table in front of her, as she stared at a raspberry cake.

“God I don’t wanna eat you” you kept repeating. You were so sick of the buttery dough, and the crunchy shell with the both sweet and somewhat bitter raspberry filling.

“You okay?” Jake asked.

You lifted your head towards the two caps and masks of what seemed like young men. You gave them a smile and a nod before groaning as you once again hit your head against the table. Niki laughed loudly.

“I’m not, I’m so fucking sick of eating this shitty desert” You said, forehead still resting against the wood.

The two friends were shocked at your boldness and of how you seemed to disregard the woman behind the counter. Niki was about to apologize when the woman told them that it was okay. She felt honored that you had chosen one of her cakes as the one to eat.

Niki smiled. “Taste mark, huh?” He asked and you sent them a thumbs up before dipping your finger in the raspberry cream.

“This is the only bakery in the city that makes this dessert with the berry. It seems that would be a given, but noooo… He insists on trying ever other cake with the taste” you said dramatically.

Jake took off so fast all you could do was stare after him in chock as he ran out of the shop as fast as he could and yanked the door to the car open. “Won, get the fuck in there!” He yelled.

“Really not in the mood okay, just give me my cake and let’s get home” he said as he pulled his hat down over his eyes.

“Nope!” Jake said as he pulled it off of him. He tried fixing his hair with his spit.

“That’s disgusting,” Sunghoon said with a grimace.

“You’re going in there, right. fucking. now” He opened his seat belt and pulled him out of the vehicle, before shutting the door after the man, to shut up the protest from the remaining members.

Jake pushed Jungwon all the way into the cafe, kicked him inside the door and grabbed Niki before shutting the door behind his leader, holding it shut.

“Jesus fuck Jake, what’s your problem? I said I would pay didn’t I?” He yelled through the glass where his two friends remained and did nothing more than to gesture that he should go.

The chaos had gotten your attention. And you looked up at the blond with eyes as piercing and special as a cat, and your breath hitched. Behind the window next to you stood none other than Kim Sunoo, with no mask and gestured for you to get the fuck up.

You coughed, hoping to get his attention, but he kept his back to you.

“Rasberry tarte?” You asked with a shaking voice as he grabbed the box in front of him.

He turned with a smile. "Exactly! How did you…” And as his eyes, as beautiful as crescent moons met yours, he dropped the box. “Know…”

“Holy shit” Was all he said before he bent down to pick up the cakes. You were next to him within a second.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I should’ve said something else, or just tabbed you on your shoulder or something instead of startling you”

He just stared at you while you kept rambling, as you tried to scoop up the cakes. God you looked beautiful, and the faint smell of raspberry made him almost lose his mind. He knew that was the same taste that was currently coated on his tongue. He wondered if it tasted sweeter in your mouth than in his, and had to mentally hit himself before he got carried away.

Instead of stopping your rambling with words he just grabbed onto you and pulled you into his arms. You screamed in surprise, but as soon as he started laughing, well so did you.

“You’re here” he kept repeating, and everytime he did you answered; “I am”.

None of you didn’t seem to mind that he had dragged you through all the cakes, all he did was to bury his head in the crook of your neck, as he laughed in pure bliss and utter disbelief.

The guys had celebrated and laughed at both of your expenses. It had been a mess trying to get the two of you cleaned up before the chauffeur would allow you in the car.

As you all got back to the dorm he constantly had your hands in his as he stroked your knuckles with his thumb, the gesture calmed you and made it absolutely impossible for you to stop smiling.

Jungwon went to his room and returned with a set of slacks for you to change into, all the while he to changed out of the cake smothered outfit.

“We’re matching” you said as you made a pirouette as you entered his room. The matching outfits had definitely been a part of his plan, and he absolutely adored the way you looked in his clothes. He made a mental note of always making sure that the two of you would always be matching.

“You look good” He said as he pulled on the large hoodie, pulling you towards the bed.

You couldn’t help but laugh nervously. This was after all very new to you, to the both of you. He pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear and send you a half smile, as he hummed a tone.

“So… Any questions?” You asked as you pulled on his fingers, you wanted to hold his hand, but had trouble actually doing it.

Instead he did it for you, and intertwined his fingers with yours, you hummed by the skin to skin contact.

“I do have one…” He said and couldn’t help but laugh. “Why so many lemons?”

You laughed, it was loud and uncontrollable, and he couldn’t help but wish he were to hear that sound for the rest of his life. He smiled at the sound, and you saw how his eyes were shining like little stars when he looked at you.

When you catched your breath you told him: “Well I’m a pastry chef, so my profession is basically just baking and tasting cakes”

That made a lot of sense.

“And your obsession with chocolate” he was just about to protest when you held a finger to his lips to shut him up, “kind of ruined that a little. The lemons was a palate cleanser, and a small fuck you for ruining my taste tests”

He just smiled, as utterly bitter the days had been when the two of you ate sweets with lemon in between, it was also the reason the two of you had found one another. He was grateful.

“I’m sorry” he said as he laid down on the bed. “That must’ve been annoying”

You shrugged before joining him. “It’s okay, it let me here in the end, so there’s not much to complain about really”

His smile haltered and you saw how his eyes turned sad.

“What’s wrong?” You asked right before you stroked his cheek.

He leaned into your touch, savoring the warmth. “When are you leaving?” he asked with a small voice.

You laid down on the mattress and looked up at him, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Well that depends on you”

He perked up a little, and you ‘boob’ed’ his nose earning you a dimpled smile before you continued: “I’m done with school, so in reality the only thing kicking me home is my visa. Honestly I only need a job. But something tells me the sweet old auntie from tonight might offer me one on the spot after tonight”

It was a pretty good story, and he couldn’t wait to tell it over and over again as the two of you grew older together.

“We better drop by tomorrow then, but for now I wanna know everything there is to know about you my sweet”

“My sweet, I like that!” You said. You saw how his eyes lingered at your mouth, and before you had a chance to talk yourself out of it, you closed the distance between the two of you.

He savored the softness of your lips, the way your breath became faster, and how he could almost hear the beating of you heart. You really was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

Taglist: @why4anne @juicygirl4life @azzy02 @bluxjun @why-did-i-just-do-this

note: thank you all so so much for the response to this series, i honestly cant belive it! please reachout with feedback, theories or if you wanna be added to the taglist!

[narrativedoomed]

I'll be honest w y'all i do not intend on catching up w yj any time soon

[elysianightsss]

Mouth watering sundress

Summary: John gives you a ride home from work, and his phone number…

It was the car ride from hell.

John drove with one hand on the steering wheel and one on the clutch, his truck smelled just like him. Oak wood, cigars and spiced oranges. It had a musky undertone that made you shift in your seat, thighs clenching uncomfortably. The Chevy he drove somehow didn’t surprise you and the country music quietly playing from the radio didn’t surprise you either. 

His plaid button up shirt and loose blue jeans had you staring. You could see where the muscles were too big for his shirt when he changed gears it looked like it was going to rip. You wondered what it would feel like to have those muscular arms wrapped around your body.

You played with the hem of your floral sundress, tracing the little flowers while you scolded yourself for thinking such things about your gorgeous neighbour. 

“How was work?” John asked with gentle curiosity, his big hand moving the clutch to change gear.

“It was okay.” You shrugged glancing out of the window only to look back at him and see a frown on his face.

“Just okay?” His eyebrows rose as he watched little old Doris pull out in front of him in her mini with no indication whatsoever.

“Yeah. I mean my job consists of listening to people complain on the phone and trying to fix their issues. It was pretty boring, only gets good when you get the screamers.” You laugh, watching the forest trees pass by as he drives.

“Screamers?” He asks, a small laugh coming out himself, though you picked up the concern dithering there. Tricks of the trade.

“People who start shouting or screaming down the phone as soon as you answer. Mostly cause they haven’t got they wanted from the company yet.” You explain, saying it so casually.

“That doesn’t sound too fun.”

“Maybe not fun but definitely an interesting change. Gives me something to think about on the weekends too. Maybe if I should have responded differently. How can I better my answers for next time it happens.” Your brows furrow slightly realising how pathetic you just sounded.

“No friends to make your weekends interesting?”he cleared his throat hoping he wasn’t too obvious here, “or boyfriend.” He glanced quickly at you out of the corner of his eyes to catch you cracking a small smile making one grow on his face too. So infectious.

“Some friends but they work on the weekends. And I don’t have a boyfriend.” That had John shifting into the wrong gear the car making a loud scraping noise, he scrambled to quickly rectify the situation before the car stalled.

“Fiance? Husband?” He grimaced saying it, if felt like a dirty word on his tongue, leaving a bitter after taste that quickly disappeared when he spotted no ring on your finger.

“Nope. Completely and pathetically single.” You sighed, not dramatic, but simply a deep breath that showed how tired you were from everything. And boy you were tired. Exhausted from the emotional stress of life.

“Oh?” His interest clear, just as much as his curiosity was.

“Every time I like a guy or even think about entering into a relationship, it always fucks up in a monumental way and I always end up hurt. Every single time.” You let out another tired sigh. It was hard to be single when both your friends had partners, always the third wheel. It made you really hate life at the moment. Though you suppose you’d been in worse positions than in a Chevy with your large, handsome neighbour.

You pulled up to a traffic light, John pulling up the hand break before turning to look at you with a deep seriousness gleaming not only in his eyes but on his face, his body language, his entire demeanour had become the embodiment of seriousness.

“I would never hurt you. Ever.” He was so earnest. It made your heart ache, yearn for the kind of man you’d always wanted but never had. Always boys, never men.

The light turned green just as you let out a shaky breath, fingers lacing together in your lap picking at your nails in nervousness. Heat rising on your cheeks when his hand reached over to lay itself on top of yours for a few moments before pulling your hands apart, “Don’t do that. You’ll ruin those pretty hands.” He lets go just as he looks deep into your eyes, “and we can’t have that can we.”

You didn’t know what to say, the glint in his eyes, the way he tipped his head to the side a bit. Fuck, he looked wonderful. You steeled yourself and consumed every bit of self confidence you had, “You think my hands are pretty?” You stared at him, blinking a few times, definitely not fluttering your lashes. Your eyes flickered to where his jaw seemed to clench tightly for a few moments.

The intensity was building as he leaned in closer to you, it had a burning feeling building in your stomach, a fluttering you’d never experienced before the longer he stared into your eyes

Before he could even open his mouth in reply the beeping of horns from the cars behind started going off. You cleared your throat turning to face the front of the car, “The lights green John.”

“Mhm.” It’s short. Sweet. And so fucking sexy. His voice gravely and low, rumbling in his chest as he hums. Prolonging his gaze upon you just a few more moments before he turns back to the steering wheel and begins driving off.

You quietly let out a breath you hadn’t realised had built up, it did nothing however to ease the fluttering in your stomach. Only seemed to make the nausea worsen. You made a point of not picking at your nails, instead you lay your hands over your thighs, the feeling of your skin and the material of your sundress distracting you enough to not see smirk that graced John’s lips.

John lips, those luscious kissable lips that seemed almost hidden away by the full beard that had grown around his mouth. Like some forbidden fruit hidden just enough in the garden of Eden. He seemed like some forbidden fruit.

He stopped the car just outside your house, getting out to open the car door for you to get out. “Thank you for the ride home.”

“Anytime sweetheart.” He gazed down at you, his height even more daunting now that he was standing. His whole being was just large. That was the best way to describe him.

-

Honestly, you thought about him for the rest of the evening and all night. You thought about his muscles, the way they stretched the fabric of his shirt over the skin. The way his hands seemed to dwarf everything, you wondered how big they would look holding yours. You thought about the way he smirked after calling your hands pretty. You thought about the way his blue eyes glistened when he gave you his phone number.

It was all you thought about. All that was on your mind with no way to get rid of it, no sign that the brazen thoughts would ever leave you. It was like your own personal brand of torture.

Even when you finally managed to drift off, you dreamed of him. Dreamed that he would touch you the way you wanted him to. That he would kiss you desperately, achingly. You were hungry to be touched by him, so hungry that even the very thought of tasting him made you feel nauseous. It had been so long since anything had touched you, that your body had grown accustom to the emptiness that gnawed at you day in, day out.

But maybe it was just what you needed, to push past the sickness. To hold on tight to the warmth that wanted to cover you, that wanted to wrap itself around you. But you couldn’t help but push it away, say no in cruel anticipation of the inevitable. Love is a tender kiss for most people. For you she saves her sharpest axe.

Waking up was humbling, how groggy and unhinged you felt after a night of thinking and dreaming of John. Rolling over in bed you unplugged your phone and began to scroll through your notifications. Your heart jumping in your chest at the sight of a new text; from John.

John: Hey pretty girl. 7:36am. read.

Holy shit, he’d text you this morning. Was it when he first woke up? He was he thinking about you all night too? This man is something else.

John: No reply already? I thought I would’ve had to say something stupid first before you ignored me sweetheart. ;) 9:41am. read.

You: Sorry, got distracted. How’d you sleep? 9:42am. read.

John: Like a log. You? 9:42am. read.

You: Could use a couple more hours honestly. 9:43am. read.

John: What do you have planned today sweetheart? 9:45am. read.

What did you have planned today? Rolling around in bed thinking about a well built beast with thick mutton chops. So enthralled with the simple idea of John.

Fuck you’d never met a man so….well manly. His big muscles and his thick musky scent that screamed masculine in the most primal way possible. In every circumstance, in every part of the world and every century, he would be the ideal mate. To protect and provide-

The ringing makes you jump, the phone vibrating in your hand as you see the unfamiliar number only just added to your phone. You breathe in sharply for a moment, blowing out shakily, hands beginning to sweat. And it’s not even him in person, it’s just a phone call.

“It’s just a phone call. You can press the end button at any time.” You tell yourself, reassuring yourself before sliding your thumb along the screen, the answer swipe turning green. You put the cold screen to your ear. “John?”

“I got impatient.” His voice sounded so low and deep, must be that its first thing in the morning.

“Sorry. Got lost in my thoughts.” You mumble picking at the sheets surrounding you.

“Anything you wanna share? Or is it too soon to be prying into that pretty head of yours.”

“God you’re forward.” You breathe out a little laugh, a hot feeling fluttering in your stomach.

He laughed, heartily. “I’m just wired that way love.”

“I’m not sure if I like it.”

“Oh?” John voice was light and soft, if you were really leaning into it you’d notice the tinge of disappointment in the sound.

“It’s catching me off guard. I like to keep my cards close to my chest.” You swirled your finger along the pattern of the crocheted pillow in front of you.

“I’d happily let you play me.”

“John.” You breathe out another laugh, your heart skipping a beat.

“Like that,” he huffed low and wild, “like when you say my name. Sounds so nice coming from you.”

“It does?”

“Well with a pretty voice like that, I’m sure you can make anything sound nice.” He chuckled. And fuck you had to mute with how you giggled, kicking your feet with giddiness.

“So you want to go for lunch?” The rumbly bearish throaty sexy voice melted your knees until they felt like jelly.

“Again with the forwardness.” Your flushed cheeks hurt, couldn’t wipe the grin off your face, and he could hear it.

“I’m a man who knows what he wants and goes for it.” John answered without so much as a thought, the answer coming so naturally.

“I’ll consider it.” You pressed the red button and jumped in the shower, cold and brisk. It was the only way to bring your burning body temperature down.

John was unlike anybody you’d ever met, definitely better than an of your exs and you hadn’t even gotten to the deep stuff yet.

You wrapped a towel around your body and began to dry your hair with your other towel when you noticed your phone light up, a nervous grin tugging at your lips as you picked up the device and read the text.

John: Considered it yet? 10:02. read.

You shook your head, teeth biting into your smile. He was so unashamed and so bold. It made you question yourself, made you want more than you had once had. Made you want him.

You: I’d love to have lunch with you. 10:04am. read.

John: I’ll pick you up in an hour, wear that mouth watering sundress again ;) 10:04am. delivered.

Mouth watering sundress? Fuck, no one had ever said that to you before. Hell no one had ever offered so many compliments in one conversation before. He was truly a man of different breed. You giggled again falling into your bed and kicking your feet in the air, he was such a flirt. You loved it.

[2blockseast]

i like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it (logan howlett x gn reader)

summary: logan adores admiring you before leaving for an early morning job author's note: hi all! this is my first ever post on here-- how exciting! i'm still new to tumblr so please bear with me as i figure everything out. i like writing things based on music i enjoy (mostly their titles), and i thought this would be a fun little drabble to start. i hope you like it :] writing is purposefully in all lowercase. tags: logan howlett x reader, reader's gender not mentioned, fluff, domestic, established relationship word count: 449

i like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it

logan hated mornings like this, when he had to wake up early while you stayed in bed sleeping peacefully. it was always because of the x-men: calling him in early for a mission or a meeting before the kids woke up, which was, of course, also before you woke up.

he hated having to leave you before you had woken up. although you would barely notice his absence as you slept, he couldn’t help but feel that he was somewhat abandoning you. you tended to cling onto him like a koala when you slept, and having to push himself out of your embrace only made him feel worse. 

he would slowly and gently pull out of your grasp, often replacing his now vacant side of the bed with a stuffy to keep you company. you would rustle around for a moment, confused by the sudden lack of warmth, but would eventually settle back into your calm slumber. he would smile as he watched you, thinking of how beautiful you were. logan always loved to admire you, but there was a kind of softness that came with doing so as you slept.

logan always made sure to let you know how beautiful you were, but you were often quick to reject his compliments, making jokes about how he was a good liar or about how he must’ve been talking about himself. it hurt him a bit, being able to feel how self-conscious you were despite his attempts to show you otherwise. you were so beautiful, yet so unaware. but when you slept, he could coo at you as much as he wanted without protest.

“you’re so beautiful, baby,” he would say, gently stroking your hair. he would trace the details of your face with his eyes, further committing your beauty to memory. 

“i wish you knew how stunning you were,” he would say, leaning down to kiss your forehead. 

he would sit on the edge of the bed complimenting you and kissing your face for several minutes, often making him late to whatever made him get up so early in the first place. despite the x-men’s grumbles about logan being late every early morning, he never cared about being late. looking over you like this had become routine for him, and it always helped him start his day on the right foot. this was like his morning cup of coffee, but 10x sweeter.

as he gave you your final gentle kiss of the morning, you rustled and quietly mumbled: “please don’t go”. 

logan softened, lightly blushing as he stroked your face again. he leaned down and softly kissed your cheek before whispering: “i’ll be back before you know it, beautiful”.

[hiveswap]

Summary of The Cat of The Year poll atrocities of 2023/2024

I'm sure that most people on this side of tumblr have seen the Jellie vs. Nefarious Anglerfish poll going around with like 60k votes at this point, and I'd really like clear up some of what happened since I was around for the whole thing.

Url blocked out for op's privacy. They have already left but don't look for it if you haven't seen it/don't harrass them if you already have.

1. The previous round (preparation)

I discovered the poll in its previous round, needless to say she beat Jort's ass severely. This was around the 3rd of january, meaning that this round finished before jellie's passing with only about 7k votes. Op did add their own piece of propaganda from their main:

...which was FINE. (except for stuff we'll see later) Of course running a poll while biased isn't ideal but I for one didn't even know they were the op until much later. I also added my own piece in a separate thread, and they didn't interact with it at all. There was no drama.

2. The Finale

Jellie unfortunately passed away right before the starting of this poll, which was the catalyst for what happened next. Op did exactly as last time and added a slightly more mean spirited encouragement to vote for the other contestant. This is the point where I believe that i fucked up personally.

I added this thinkpiece accusing op of associating all mcyters with Dream (who we all hate for the record) despite them not alluding to him at all. This is because tumblr has a history of disimissing all mcyters as... everything that dream was been accused of. Op did allude to not caring for mcyt. but they didn't say what i accused them of. This is important to point out because this reblog of mine is still being spread. Jellie was in the lead at the time, but not by the time i woke up next morning.

I won't be including anyone else's additions because I don't want to put blame on any specific person. Just felt like clearing up mine.

3. The Fuckening

Some time later op made this post to their personal blog:

which is insanely shitty because, as other people have pointed out, the "lame ass youtube cat" didn't die to inconvinience op or ruin their fun, and people would have probably voted for her anyway because jelly is universally beloved in the mcyt community. This isn't anti democratic. This post was added to the poll with a caption saying op should not be running this poll, and it took off. Op later went on to say that this was a joke:

This apology was not taken well by people, (including me) because "you were not meant to see it" isn't an apology and they still very much made fun of someone's pet dying. Safe to say this did not make the drama stop and only added fuel to the flame. I believe this was the point where the conversation of mcyt fans being unjustly sent hate to was reignited.

We should discuss that! it's a real thing that happens often and is equal to childish bullying. However, in this case, OP was the only one getting sent hate to my knowledge. The notes were mostly saturated by mcyt fans, and even now i can only find one or two hateful stance towards us under the whole 20k notes post.

4. Conclusions

Op posted a second apology to the catoftheyear blog to try and calm people down (i believe this is comprehensive and a lot better than the previous one) The blog was deactivated shortly after, so i only have my phone screenshots of it that i also added to the poll itself at some point:

(Edit) Here's proof that op did not write the justification they got criticised for, from the notes of the original poll:

This apology didn't get seen, or get accepted by enough people, so op made this statement on their personal:

Needless to say I am deeply dissapointed (and guilty) that it's come to this. Yes, op said tasteless things that made us all angry, but telling a human being to commit suicide is worse than being insensitive about a stranger's pet dying. Even after I posted about the blog being decatived i had someone come into my notes to wish that "they never find happiness" i mean wtf. This isn't like shipping where we can do whatever without the content creator's input. this is fucking harrowing and i can't imagine how i'd feel if this was done in my/my pet's name especially after losing them as recently as a week ago.

I hope no one from hermitcraft who is on here (let alone scar holy shit) learns about this like they did with previous lighthearted tournaments. If you truly respect the creators you claim to be a fan of as people, you do not tell people to kill themselves over them. And finally, let Jellie fucking rest, guys. she had a long, good life. I hope op can come back and also avoids behaving like this if they ever wish to do so. I'm angrier at mcytblr, though.

[happy74827]

Chaos Theory

[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When Mike's crazy schedule finally aligns with one of the so-called "parental meetings" at Abby's school, he decides to see what it's all about. Little did he know he'd come to seriously regret that.

WC: 2,590

Category: Slight Fluff

I failed an exam today, so I wrote this to cheer myself up. I still feel pretty crappy, but this was really fun to write lol.

Also if you see any grammar mistakes, no you didn’t.

『••✎••』

When it came to Abby’s school, Mike was at a disadvantage. He couldn’t go to any of the parental meetings, not because he didn’t want to, but because he was constantly doing something work-related during the time those meetings were scheduled.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t keeping an eye on her grades and school attendance. It just meant he couldn't be there for the day-to-day things. Abby was a good kid, though; she never gave him trouble about the things he missed, and she did a pretty good job of keeping her grades up and attending all her classes.

Her teacher, you, was also very understanding of his schedule and position. He wasn’t sure how many teachers would have been as patient with him as you were. It was part of the reason he had grown fond of you, though it had been a gradual process that happened mostly unbeknownst to him.

At the beginning of the year, he had only been concerned about getting Abby acclimated to her new school. She was a quiet kid, stuck to her drawings, and it was even hard for him to get her to open up sometimes. Runs in the family, apparently. But, somehow, you were able to break down the wall that had been erected around her. Abby still didn't talk all that much, but she would always come back from school with a smile on her face. So, Mike was happy.

Then, like all good things, it came crashing down like a house of cards when his work schedule finally aligned with one of the “upcoming” meetings. This one was apparently a very big deal, and it was strongly implied to show up.

He hated these things despite never going to any before, but he just knew it would be filled with nosey people asking questions about his life. His sister. His “wife.”

God, he was already annoyed. The only saving grace was that it was the last meeting before the holiday break, so once it was over, he would be free for a while. Free to do what, exactly? Work, most likely, but a guy can dream.

The bell rang, signifying the end of the school day and the start of his personal nightmare. The door to the classroom was opened by one of the school's assistants, who held a clipboard in hand and waited for the “parents” to enter the room. He had arrived earlier than the scheduled time so he could speak to the assistant and find out what the meeting would entail, and already he knew it was a bad idea coming in here.

The woman was a nosy old biddy that was all too eager to learn the details of his and Abby's life.

He kept his answers short and clipped, but it did nothing to dissuade the woman. It got worse when he entered the classroom and saw the number of other parents who had shown up. He felt like an animal in a zoo; all the eyes followed his movements as he went to sit closest to the wall and away from the rest of the people.

The surrounding parents looked as though they lived in the next town over. They were clean-cut, hair styled perfectly, and clothes ironed. It was like they were trying to be a picture-perfect family.

He looked down at his own attire. His work boots were scuffed and dusty. His pants had a few grass stains from a recent job. His flannel shirt was buttoned wrong, and the sleeves were pushed up. Even his hair was a mess; he had tried to style it but didn't have much success, so he eventually gave up. The only thing going for him was that he had taken a shower before he left, so at least he didn't smell like sweat and grime.

As the meeting began, Mike had to try his best not to fall asleep. It was the typical teacher stuff. How the kids were doing. What the curriculum was for the following year. What their goals were. Blah, blah, blah.

Mike didn't care. He trusted you, and he knew his little sister was smart. She didn't need someone holding her hand and telling her what she was doing right or wrong. He knew this because he did that, and she didn't need it.

What did interest him, though, was the fact you kept looking his way. You didn't look at the others, and when you spoke, it was usually aimed toward them, but he saw the way you would look at him from the corner of your eye. He figured you were probably in shock that he actually showed up this time.

The meeting dragged on, and he was ready to leave. There were a few moments he had caught himself nodding off as he needed sleep, and this wasn't helping him. But then, like everything else in his life, the universe decided it was his time to suffer.

There was one woman who had sat at the front of the classroom. She wore her hair pulled back tight in a bun, her shirt was pressed, and her face was set in a permanent frown. He hated that lady; she reminded him of his good-for-nothing aunt who only wanted to criticize every choice he made.

The lady was also the mother of the most spoiled, brattiest child in the whole class. That damned kid had made it her life mission to torment Abby. He had come home more than once with her complaining about it, and when Mike had brought it up with you, you had told him that you had spoken with the parent.

That, of course, had done nothing. The child was an annoying pest, and he hated the way she treated Abby, but his sister had learned early on to deal with the bullying on her own. It didn't stop him from wanting to throttle the little shit, though.

The woman, the one who had started all his problems, took the opportunity to start a round of questioning. The first few were innocuous until they weren't.

"You seem to be a very patient woman." The woman had spoken to you, but her eyes were locked on him. "Is it a skill that was learned?"

The question itself was innocent enough, but the inflection and tone she used were meant to cut. He wasn't stupid. He knew she was alluding to something. It was always something, but he had to force himself not to say anything; the woman was a viper, and if he said something, she would attack without hesitation.

"I think anyone can be patient," You had responded diplomatically. "It's just a matter of the situation."

The woman didn't look happy with your answer, but she didn't pursue the line of questioning.

"Well, I couldn’t help but notice a certain someone who decided to finally drop in."

There it was. That was the opening.

Mike could tell you didn’t like the turn of conversation, and you were clearly trying to divert it elsewhere. It was no use, though. Mike could see the glint in the woman's eye as she prepared for the kill. She had a smile on her face, but her eyes were cold. "I was starting to think that Mr. Schmidt had abandoned his responsibilities. Wouldn’t be the first time someone in that family did such a thing."

He couldn’t help but have visions of his accidental mall incident from last year flash in his mind when he processed what the woman had said. He could easily hop over the desk and deck her right in the mouth. He had the muscle for it, and it was very tempting.

However, he would not.

If there was anything Mike had learned over the years, it was how to control his emotions, even if the situation was dire. The last time he had lost his cool, he ended up getting fired, but that was a long time ago… okay, not really, but the point was, he wouldn't make the same mistake again.

He wouldn't give the woman the satisfaction.

Mike leaned forward in his chair, arms crossed over his knees, and looked the woman straight in the eyes. "That's funny. I could say the same thing about your kid."

"Excuse me?!" She hissed, and she seemed offended. Good. He hoped she was offended.

"Okay, okay." You intervened, hands up as if to placate the two of them. "Let's keep this civil, okay? The last thing we want is to be kicked out of the school for brawling. That's not beneficial for any of us." You then looked back at the woman. "Let's not bring personal matters into this."

"Personal matters?" The woman was appalled at your statement, and her voice was so loud in the quiet room. He could tell many of the other parents were looking at them now, and he felt the weight of their gazes on him. It only made his anger spike. "That monkey of his tried to bully mine for three months now, and she's never done anything."

Monkey? Monkey?! Oh, he was going to kill her. It was one thing to talk shit about him; he was used to that, but Abby? No. Absolutely not. His little sister was the best damn thing to come into his life. He wouldn't have it.

But before he could say something, before he could even get out of the chair, you had done something he would never have thought you would. You got up and went to your desk, then you returned, holding a paper. You held it up for all the parents to see.

"This is a drawing my students did a few weeks ago," you started, and he was surprised at the level of calmness you were exuding. "The assignment was for them to draw the thing they loved the most."

Hearing those words, Mike had a feeling what was coming next, but he wasn't going to say anything. It would be like tempting fate. Still, he watched as you grabbed one of the papers, and then you turned it around so he could see it. Abby had done the drawing, and it was not only of him but of everyone else in her class as well. She had even drawn you standing near her with a kind smile. It was the picture she had brought home from that field trip months ago. It was a nice picture. Really nice. He liked it, and he knew Abby was proud of it.

"I made copies of every drawing so the parents could see them," You continued as you held out the picture for everyone to see. "So, tell me, would a bully do this?"

Your voice had a bite to it now, and he could finally see just how angry you were. He was surprised at how much control you were exerting. The other parents, however, were shocked at your sudden display of emotion. Even the woman, who had looked as though she was ready to take you on herself, looked like a deer caught in headlights. She didn't know what to say. No one said anything. Even he was shocked by your sudden outburst.

You were normally such a mellow person. Understanding, even. Always ready to listen, always ready to understand. You were the one who was there to help when something went wrong. You were the person who everyone turned to. You were… nice. You were a kind person. You were—you were just like Abby. That's all he saw in you now. You were just like his sister. You were just like her. You had that same determination and that same look of knowing something that others didn't, but there was also something else. You were a fighter, too. It was just something he hadn't noticed until this very moment.

You weren't the nice teacher everyone thought you were. No, you were more. You were the person he knew his sister was becoming.

"And to answer your question from before," you continued, ignoring the growing outrage from the other parent. "I'm a very patient woman because I understand that not everyone has the same opportunities. Some of us have a responsibility to provide the basic necessities for our family, which can often lead to not being able to attend these types of meetings.”

You looked directly at the woman when you spoke the last part, and you did not look happy. At all. In fact, he was pretty sure that was a little vein on the side of your head.

"Not everyone can be at their best every moment. Not everyone is at their best all the time. Not everyone has the privilege to complain about things not going their way. So, while I am a very patient woman, I will not have any of this derogatory about my students and their guardians." The calmness in your voice was gone, and your voice was rising, and you had started pacing back and forth behind your desk as you spoke. "Because if there is one thing that I cannot stand, it's someone who criticizes others just to make themselves feel better."

You went on to speak about your experience with the woman's daughter, explaining that a meeting needed to be called upon to address the issues with the child. You didn't stop there, though. No, you also spoke about how she should have addressed the situation when it was first brought up and how that, in turn, impacted the rest of your class. You had even pointed out some of the other parent's children who had done the same thing.

Suddenly, this meeting wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

It took a while, but once you finished your little speech, everyone had finally gotten over their shock and embarrassment. The meeting, as such, continued without incident, and by the time it was all said and done, Mike was ready to go home.

As he stood from his seat and made his way to the door, however, you stopped him. You had your bag in your hand and your coat on as well.

"I just wanted to—"

"You don't need to apologize," Mike cut you off. He didn't want an apology. He knew you weren't at fault here. In fact, he was surprised you took the time even to defend him. That didn't happen often. "I was expecting something like that to happen, but I appreciate you speaking up for Abby. She's got a good teacher."

He thought you would be embarrassed or even annoyed, but instead, your face lit up, and your cheeks turned red. "Oh, uh, well, it's my job. It was what I needed to do."

"Maybe, but you did it anyway. So, I appreciate it." He looked around the room and noticed everyone else had left. Even the nosy assistant had disappeared. He didn't know what to say, so he settled with saying the first thing that came to mind. "And hey, maybe next time you can tell them this is why I don't go to these meetings."

Your laugh was light, and you had a smile on your face. He liked the sound of it. He liked seeing it, too. He also liked the way it lit up your eyes. They had a beautiful color. So bright, so shiny. It was almost hypnotic.

"I'll consider it."

Mike wasn't sure how, but somehow, he knew you were telling the truth.

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

WHISPERS OF TWO FREAKS KISSING

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!reader Summary: with no memory of the party, Monday rolls around and it seems like a lot of people do. Warnings: rumours? talks about kissing, underage drinking, getting high. brief mention of being a pornstar (imagination)

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You groggily open your eyes, sunlight filtering through your curtains, making your head feel like it’s been hit with a hammer. You blink a few times, trying to adjust, but the familiar surroundings of your room only make the confusion worse.

You stretch, wincing at the headache that flares up. A groan slips from your lips, your hand instinctively reaching for your bedside table for your water bottle. It’s then that you notice how dry your mouth is, the taste lingering, unpleasant and sharp.

You tug the blankets off your legs, slowly sitting up. The floor feels like it’s shifting under your feet, and you grip the edge of your bed to steady yourself. What happened last night?

There’s a lingering fog in your mind, moments, flashes, some you recognize, others are completely foreign. You know you were at Mike Lewenski’s party last night, but beyond that, things blur.

You rub your eyes, feeling a sense of dread, but you can’t put your finger on why. Did something happen?

You shake your head, the ache only intensifying. It’s probably nothing. Just a little too much to drink, you tell yourself. Still, your stomach churns as you try to piece together the night. But for now, the headache’s enough to keep you from thinking much more.

You just wish you could remember.

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Monday rolled quickly and probably for the better, the hangover you had was a killer and you're glad that it's gone so you can actually focus.

a few things came back to you here and there, but it was mostly you just dancing and wondering around.

you hated not being able to remember what happened, because every time you get drunk, you always get the feeling you did something to embarrass yourself

and the stares people gave you as you walked into the school made you wonder if you really had.

everyone had turned to look at you with judging eyes. making the hairs on your arm stand up in nervousness.

The weight of their stares presses on you, a flush creeping up your neck as whispers follow in your walk. Your stomach twists, and you can’t shake the feeling that everyone knows something you doesn't, their judgment lingering in the air like a cloud you can't escape.

but they couldn't be looking at you. you realise that when you turned around and watch as the couple everyone makes fun of behind you, hickeys all over their necks as they walked hand in hand together.

you visibly relaxed, knowing their judgy eyes were aimed at them and not you. their whispers were aimed at them, who you now remember were kicked out of the party due to almost having sex on the Livingroom couch, in front of everyone.

now that was relieving.

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You walked to the lunch table where all of your friends sat, your tray full of gross but tolerable food in your hands as you approached your table.

You felt the atmosphere shift as you passed a few tables. The usual noise of the cafeteria felt muffled, like someone turned the volume down. Your friends were sitting there, their heads turning just slightly when you arrived, their expressions too guarded to be comfortable. It wasn’t like how it used to be. You tried to ignore the knot in your stomach and took your seat, setting your tray down with a little more force than necessary, smiling despite the weird feeling swarming in the pit of your stomach.

But as you sat, you felt the weight of their stares. They didn’t greet you like they usually did. The silence stretched between you, and for a moment, you wondered if you’d missed something, if you were being paranoid or imagining the tension in the air. You looked around, but everything seemed the same, except for the strange shift in your friends' demeanour.

"Hey," you began, trying to break the silence, your voice almost too loud. "What’s up? Why are you all so quiet?"

You awkwardly laughed as you picked at the pasta salad with your fork.

One of them, a girl you’d known for years, glanced at the others and then back at you. Her eyes darted away quickly, and she cleared her throat before responding, her words sharp and almost rehearsed.

"You can’t sit here," she said flatly, like it was an established rule, one you should already know by now.

You blinked, confused, looking at her, then the others. "What? What do you mean?" You glanced around as if maybe you missed something.

You were met with silence, and the smile on your face fell as you looked around the table.

"Did I do something wrong?" Your stomach churned a little, the unease sinking in deeper.

She looked away, and another friend spoke up. "You’re just... We can’t be seen with you anymore."

"Wait, what are you talking about?" you asked, the words slipping out too quickly. "What did I do?"

"Everybody’s calling you a freak... so... you need to go," the one on the end said quietly, like she was saying a secret.

Nobody in the group even liked her; she was always getting talked over and pushed away, which is why she earned a few eye rolls at her comment.

The first girl’s gaze shifted awkwardly, like she was unsure of how to continue. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, shaking her head. Finally, she sighed, resigned.

"You were making out with Eddie Munson at the party on Saturday," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but it still felt like it was echoing in your mind.

You froze, the air thick with confusion. You felt your heart race for a second, and you shook your head, your pulse quickening. Eddie Munson? The Eddie Munson? No way. That didn’t make sense. He didn’t even go to the party. Did he?

You racked your brain, trying to piece together the hazy fragments of the night, but there was nothing, nothing that connected you to him like that.

"That’s not true," you said, your voice firmer than you felt. "I wasn’t making out with him. I don’t even remember him being at the party." You tried to convince yourself, your words coming out too fast, too defensive, but they sounded hollow even to your own ears.

They just looked at you, blank, unfeeling. One of them even let out a short, bitter laugh, like it was obvious. "Everyone saw you," she said quietly, not meeting your eyes. "With him. Everybody's talking about it."

her hands crossed over her chest, and she looked at you like you were nothing, like a piece of filthy garbage.

you looked around the cafeteria to avoid your friends' harsh gazes and were only met with even more of them from all of your peers, staring at you and gossiping.

you shrunk in your seat, looking down and turning back in your seat, not daring to look back up at your friends as you stared at your food.

you were so confused

"That’s not... I-. I didn't. I mean, come on-" you stammered, the confusion growing with each passing second. Your stomach twisted into a tighter knot, the unease turning into something heavier, like you were sinking into the ground. You didn’t know what to say to them. You couldn’t even explain yourself because you didn’t understand what happened yourself.

"Doesn’t matter," the other friend muttered, pushing her tray aside and crossing her arms. "You’re not one of us anymore. You’re different, and we can’t hang out with you if you’re going to be a... freak."

Your chest tightened, and the room suddenly felt too small. You stared at the empty space between you and them, unsure of how to even respond. You wanted to scream that they were wrong, that they didn’t understand, but it felt like you were speaking a different language altogether. You never signed up for this, never imagined they’d turn on you like this.

They all avoided looking at you, each of them turning their attention back to their food or to whatever excuse they could find to keep from meeting your eyes. You didn’t know how long you sat there in silence, your body numb, your mind too full of questions to think straight. All you wanted was to sit with your friends, but now everything felt wrong. You never thought one stupid night at a party could change everything. But here you were, sitting across from people you once trusted, and everything was different.

"How could you think I’d do that?" you asked quietly, your voice shaky. The words tasted bitter as they left your mouth, like you were being forced to swallow something terrible. "I don’t even remember any of it."

But they didn’t respond. They just kept avoiding your gaze. You didn’t know what else to do, so you stood up, your legs shaky. You glanced back at the empty seats, the ones that used to feel like home. You didn’t know how it all got this twisted, but as you turned away, you felt the weight of it, how much had changed, how quickly everything turned upside down.

They wouldn’t even look at you as you walked away, the space between you and your friends feeling colder with each step.

you didn't know where to go, you looked around, your eyes still hung low as you searched

you had no other friends.

Then, your eyes drifted to Eddie’s usual spot. His table was empty. His friends were there, laughing, talking, completely unaffected by his absence. But Eddie? He wasn’t there.

he did it, didn't he? he wanted some kind of revenge, for what? you're not quite sure, but he must have told everybody.

which is why you stormed out of the cafeteria in search for him.

Frustration bubbled up inside you. Without thinking, your feet moved on their own, carrying you out of the cafeteria and outside, towards the bleachers. Your breath came faster now, your heart racing. you only had one location of where he'd be, because if he's not at his table, he's here, and you needed to see him, you needed to understand why he’d done this, why everything had suddenly turned upside down.

You wandered through the forest, your feet crunching over the dry leaves beneath you. The cool air did nothing to numb the knot in your stomach or the burning frustration in your chest. Your thoughts were a chaotic swirl of confusion, anger, and hurt, but one thing was clear- you needed answers. You needed to know why Eddie did this, why everything changed so suddenly.

The trees loomed above you, casting long shadows across the uneven path as you walked aimlessly. The further you got from school, the more your thoughts began to settle, but only enough to make room for the ache of betrayal to creep in. You bit your lip hard, determined not to let the tears fall. But every step you took felt heavier, as though the weight of the entire situation was pressing down on your chest.

Eventually, you came to a clearing, the sounds of the world fading as you spotted him. Eddie. He was sitting at the rundown table, the one you’d seen him at before when he did his deals. His fingers curled around a joint, the smoke curling lazily into the air. But what made your heart sink was the fact that he was alone.

His dark hair hung loosely around his face. He didn’t seem to notice you right away, too wrapped up in whatever was floating around in his mind. You stood there, just outside his sight, staring at him as the reality of the situation settled over you.

Your friends had turned their backs on you, your reputation trashed, and you couldn’t even remember what had happened that night. But Eddie? Eddie had known exactly what was happening. And now here he was, sitting in silence, as though everything was just fine.

You swallowed hard, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. Your heart ached in ways you didn’t even know were possible. Taking a deep breath, you finally stepped forward, a crunch of the dried leaves under your foot echoing throughout the clearing

Eddie’s head snapped up as he heard your footsteps, his expression shifting from a daze to surprise. His eyes were a little glazed over, the effects of the joint still lingering, but there was something in them that flickered when he saw you standing there, tense and uncertain.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice slow and a little rough, as if he wasn’t fully sure of what was happening. He took another drag from the joint, exhaling slowly as he looked you over, his gaze scanning your face for any sign of what was going on.

You didn’t say anything at first. You just stood there; the words tangled in your throat. The anger, the hurt, it all threatened to spill out, but you weren’t sure how to even begin. The confusion swirling around you was too much to process.

“What happened?” Eddie asked, his voice softer now, his eyebrows furrowing in genuine confusion. “Why are you... why are you looking at me like that?”

You clenched your fists at your sides, trying to keep your composure.

“You told everyone, Eddie. that- that we...at the...Party,” you said, your voice shaky, but trying to remain firm.

“You told everyone we made out at the party on Saturday, and now I’m just... I’m a freak like you.” The last part came out bitter, the resentment you hadn’t realized was building inside you finally spilling over.

Eddie blinked at you, his expression still clouded with confusion. He took another drag from the joint and paused, clearly trying to piece together what you were saying.

"Wait, what? I... I didn’t tell anyone anything.” His voice was slow, uncertain, like the words didn’t make sense to him.

You felt your chest tighten.

“What do you mean, you didn’t? Everyone’s talking about it, Eddie. They’re all looking at me like I’m... some kind of joke. They’re calling me a freak.” You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the weight of everything still made it feel like the air was thick, suffocating.

“How could you do that? How could you let everyone think that?” you stormed up to him, snatching the joint between his fingers as he goes for another hit and puts it out on the old wood he's leaning on

Eddie shook his head, his face filled with genuine confusion. He ran a hand through his hair, looking like he couldn’t process what you were saying, looking at the waste of a joint now smushed on the table

“I didn’t... I didn’t do anything like that. I don’t even remember... what happened at the party. I was drunk, and... I don’t even remember being there half the time.”

You stared at him, a cold feeling creeping into your chest. His words didn’t make any sense, but it was clear from his expression that he wasn’t lying.

“What do you mean you don’t remember, the story you're telling people makes it out that you remember a lot?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded slowly, his gaze softening as he stood up, the joint slipping from his fingers and falling to the ground.

“No. I don’t. But I swear, I didn’t tell anyone anything.” He took a step toward you, his voice more sincere now, the distance between you two suddenly feeling much smaller.

You shook your head, not trusting your voice enough to say anything more. The hurt was still there, but now it felt more complicated. Was it possible that Eddie wasn’t the one who caused all of this? But then, if he didn’t say anything, who did?

Eddie stepped closer, his hand hesitantly reaching out, like he wasn’t sure if you’d pull away. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quiet. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. Everything was a blur, your thoughts, your emotions, but his words, his apology, felt like something you hadn’t expected. You’d been so angry, so hurt, but now you just felt... confused.

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to think that maybe, just maybe, Eddie hadn’t been the one to cause this mess. But you didn’t have the answers, and the truth was, you were too lost to figure it out. So, instead of saying anything else, you simply took a step back, your heart still aching, but your mind too clouded to make sense of it all.

Eddie was silent, wondering why you've jumped straight onto his back.

For a moment, neither of you said anything, the silence heavy and uncomfortable. But then, Eddie broke it, his voice quieter than before, almost too soft for you to catch at first.

“What’s the worst part of this?” he asked, his words hanging in the air. “Is it the thought of... kissing me? Is that what you’re upset about? Or is it that now you’re known as a freak...like me”

The question hung in the air, like a challenge, but it wasn’t harsh. It was just... sad. His eyes searched yours, trying to make sense of the mess, trying to understand what you were feeling.

you frowned, because what kind of question is that?

he shook his head, knowing what you're thinking

You stood still, the weight of his words hitting you harder than you expected. Eddie's gaze was intense, like he was desperately trying to figure out where things went wrong. There was a flicker of hurt in his eyes, hidden behind a mask of confusion and a hint of defensiveness.

He leaned against the table, his grip tightening around the joint as he looked at you, his voice strained but sharp.

"So, what is it then?" he asked, the words coming out more accusing than he meant. "Is it that the idea of kissing me is so repulsive to you? Or is it just that you're embarrassed to be associated with someone like me?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw clenching as he tried to hold back whatever feelings bubbled beneath the surface. He was trying to figure out what was going through your mind, but in that moment, it almost felt like he was accusing you of something. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t, it was hard to tell.

"don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about, because why would you be acting like this?" he added, quieter now.

"You told me a while ago that you didn't think I was a freak, that you didn't want to be like them...but...your kind of sounding like them right now, so... why?" His voice cracked slightly at the end, and though he tried to mask it, you could see the hurt starting to creep into his features.

The frustration in his tone made you pause, unsure of how to respond. Was this about him being upset you didn't want to kiss him? Or was it something deeper, something more personal?

“What?” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

The weight of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stared at him, trying to process what he’d just said, the mixture of emotions on his face, hurt, confusion, and something you couldn’t quite name, only making it harder.

but Eddie was freaking out inside, how could he ask you that? that wasn't fair to you.

but he wants to know. would you say because you hated the thought of kissing him, but didn't care as much to what people think than that?

or you don't want to be a freak. would that mean you would be fine with the thought of kissing him

no- why does he always have to resort back to kissing you?

it's weird and creepy.

maybe he was a freak...but all he wanted to know was if you'd push him against the table and kiss him.

he wanted to know what your lips felt like on his.

Eddie what the fuck are you doing?! he thought, mentally slapping himself

Eddie’s jaw tightened, and he exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he looked away. "Forget it," he muttered, his tone low and guarded now, like he regretted saying anything at all. "Doesn’t matter."

But it did matter. You could feel it. His words, his tone, the way he wouldn’t meet your eyes, it all mattered.

you didn't know what to think, you don't want to kiss him. you just cant help but think about it, you know? that doesn't mean you want to.

it's like how you think you could probably be a Porn star, but you'd never actually do it. that would be crazy, just like kissing Eddie would be crazy, right?

so, you don't hate the thought of kissing him as much as being known as a freak, but you'd rather not be called that.

and you definitely would never kiss him.

that's what's the worst part of this situation, you'd never do that, but people thought you did.

the worst part of this situation is that you are being accused of something you didn't do

but...now that you think about it.

you don't remember what happened...neither does Eddie

and if people saw it...

maybe it did happen.

maybe you did kiss Eddie.

cause where else would they get that from if they weren't told about it

you looked down and rolled on your ankles, not knowing what to say.

Eddie cleared his throat.

"Not to assume, or anything but uh- y'know if you have no one to uh...sit with. you'll always have a seat at hellfire...though I'm not sure you'd want to..embrace..being a freak or anything." he spoke. a light bite in his words as he packed up his metal lunch box with his 'stuff'

he walked back up to you and sighed "sorry..by the way..trust me...I know what it's like"

You stood there, watching him, his face still filled with regret and uncertainty, but he didn’t say anything as he turned and walked away. The words you needed, the comfort you hoped for, it all seemed so far away now, lost somewhere between the haze of the party and the mess that followed.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

ahhhh. sorry. I'M MAKING THESE SO QUICK I NEED TO SLOW DOWN BUT I CAN'T. but it's farrrr from done dww

taglist:

@exploding-bonbon @xlostitx @pupwrites @carolineesnell @foreveranexpatsposts @itsmadamehydra @thedoubleexposurephotography @g3n3zshack @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @emxxblog @nubedeoctubreval @bimboshaggy @sheneedsrocknroll92 @callmytherapistplease-blog @ifeelbadbutimhot @littlemissholy @sammybrrr @alastorssimp

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

[lizzieisright]

She looks like fun

dom!reader x sub!Abby

Summary: During the patrol you find a pretty pleated skirt. In Abby's size.

Tags: okay, here we go fingering, oral, strap usage, strap sucking, Abby wears a skirt and a collar for sexy purposes, scene negotiation, safewords (traffic lights), aftercare, Abby and R are switches.

wc: 6.5k (it's a huge bitch, but 1.5k is a sfw part in the beginning)

a/n: listen I love when girls wear short pleated skirts, and Abby is not an exception.

MINORS DON'T INTERACT I'll hunt you for sport 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

It’s rare to find something worthy when you’re out on the patrol, and you try to contain your disappointment every time - mostly because you hate losing and you and Abby have a rivalry going on who can bring more cool shit for the other. It’s romantic and sappy and also it drives you both crazy since you’re competitive. (people said hate sex was hot - have you tried sex after your super competitive partner loses to you? The best thing ever). So usually you won’t be happy at the end of your patrol.

But today you manage to get into a store that hasn’t been raided yet, so you start taking everything you see - people need clothes all the time, and it’s valuable. You put a mark on your map so others can go there later to take the rest and you go to women’s section, not feeling optimistic: the fabric is worse, the sizes are fucked, and even if you find something nice it tends to not last long.

But then you see it. 

On the rack next to jeans there’s a rack with skirts - and why the fuck you’d stop to look at them? - but the skirts are pleated skirts. Short pleated skirts that cover ass just enough to be socially acceptable. 

You can’t stop looking at them - you’ve seen before how nice they flow and how absolutely delicious girls look in them. 

But it’s so not Abby’s style. 

But she’ll look so good in one of these skirts.

She will probably tell you to go fuck yourself if you show it to her. 

You pack it in your backpack anyway. 

“Found something?” Abby asks as she comes inside the shop. “Oh wow. This is nice.”

“Choose whatever you want, my treat.” You say with a cocky smirk and Abby rolls her eyes.

“It doesn’t count.” 

“You’re being unfair.” You whine as Abby makes her way to you. 

“No, I’m not.” Abby murmurs. “This store is a public service, where is your personal touch?”

“You’ll talk shit just to keep your score, huh?” You smirk and Abby gives you a peck on your lips before diving into the racks to find something for herself.

The skirt gets a buddy in the form of a tight cropped white t-shirt and you don’t tell Abby about it. 

The week passes and you still don’t talk about that damn skirt even though you can’t stop thinking about Abby wearing it: how it would hug her round butt and how her thick thighs would be so shamelessly out for you. You think about how cute she’d look walking around your shared space, the skirt bouncing and almost showing you everything. You think about the possibility of Abby not wearing any underwear under it, and how hot it would be to lift the skirt up and touch her and make her moan. You think about Abby all sprawled out with your head under that skirt, making a mess out of it. 

Abby is not an idiot, so she notices the change in your mood for the last few days. She knows something is on your mind, so she catches you off guard, with her fingers buried deep inside you. 

“Come on baby, tell me what’s been bothering you.” Abby murmurs into your ear while her fingers relentlessly hit the spot that makes you see stars.

“Shit- what?” You ask, totally lost in your pleasure. 

“You’re keeping something from me. So share.” Abby kisses your neck and you try really hard not to cum, but your thighs start to shake.

“Fuck- the fucking skirt-”

And you see Abby in that skirt, all cute and shy, and you spasm around real Abby’s fingers, cumming with a groan. Abby is too distracted with watching you go through your orgasm, still fucking you, and you both forget about the topic. 

Until you’re calmed down and Abby is satisfied with how fucked out you are. Then she remembers.

“Skirt?”

Shit, you think. Now you’ll have to explain it to Abby who definitely will tell you to fuck off. 

“I took a skirt from that store we found. It’s a pleated skirt, a cute one.”

“So? You want to wear it?” 

“I want you to wear it.”

Abby is silent, and you expect it, so you already drop the subject in your head, letting it go. But Abby is not letting it go.

“You want me to wear a skirt?”

“If you want to, obviously. I think you'll be so hot in it. But I know it’s not your style.”

“It’s really not.” Abby chuckles. “So that’s why you’ve been so spacey lately? Thinking about me in a skirt?”

“Yeah. Can’t stop thinking about your pretty butt in it.” You kiss Abby’s neck and flip her on her back. “You’d look so cute.” You kiss Abby’s abs as you make your way down. “I’d run my hands under your pretty little skirt and you’ll just take it like a good girl, yeah?”

This shift is always beautiful: she just fucked your brains out, but a couple of words and your head between her legs makes Abby go pliant and soft, her big blue eyes giving you a Bambi. 

“Holy fuck.” Abby sighs and you smile into her pussy. “I’ll wear it for you.”

The hungry monster inside you roars and claws at your chest. 

Abby walks funny the next day.

You don’t actually expect Abby to wear it - after all, what is said under horny subby fog can’t be held accountable. Abby is really not a girly girl - fuck, it’d be easier to make you wear a skirt (after getting shot and stabbed repeatedly, mind you), and you understand that Abby might not be comfortable with this idea. 

But you leave the skirt and the t-shirt on the bed one day to give her the choice. When you come back, it's gone. 

Next time the skirt topic comes up when you're taking a bath together - a rare luxury, so you enjoy every second of feeling Abby's warm skin against yours.

"Do you still want me to wear a skirt?" If you were relaxed a second ago, now you're suddenly alert. 

"Only if you want it too." You kiss her shoulder. 

"And if I wear it..?" Abby gives you space to finish the phrase for her. 

"I'll fuck you on every surface in this apartment." Abby laughs, but you know what she wants to know. "Yeah, I want it to be a scene." You take a second. "Do you want me to plan it?"

"Yeah."

You freeze for a second, not really believing your luck - Abby doesn't ask for a scene plan unless she wants to do it, and right now it means she will wear a skirt for you. 

"Fuck baby, you're going to wear it for me?" You ask excitedly, squeezing her in your arms. "With a t-shirt too?"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't let it get into your head." 

"We have a few free days next week, right? Is it okay?"

"Yes, you horndog." Abby laughs and you bite her gently. 

So you spend the next days planning what you would do with Abby, writing a short list of kinks so she could veto whatever she doesn't want to happen or add something she wants to happen (the ropes last time? Her idea). She still won't know in which order everything will happen or where exactly, or even when in some cases, to save the magic of the moment, but in order to feel safe with each other, you write your lists every time, unless you both get spontaneously in the mood and have to negotiate on the fly. 

You pass your list to Abby and as she reads it, her face warms up in a pretty red colour, just like apples in the garden. 

"Okay." Abby smiles at you. "This sounds good. But I pulled my shoulder today, so I won't be able to get on my hands and knees."

"Fuck, I'll give a massage later." You say, worried. "Okay, that's fine, no doggy." 

"We can do that one, when you push the pillow under me?"

You swallow in horny, the pictures flying through your head, as you scribble it down on your list. 

"Fuck yes. Are you going to be fine like this? You still put your arms up." 

"It's not that bad." Abby shrugs. "I want to add something." 

You nod eagerly, always ready to give Abby whatever she wants. Abby walks away to go through her backpack and comes back to you, giving you a piece of small leather belt. It's too small for any human, and just as your brain starts to catch up, Abby drops the bomb on you.

"Collar me."

You blink a few times, not believing your ears.

"I'll fucking destroy you, Abs." You say, your voice low and dark. 

You had this talk before, and Abby was honestly weirded out by the ritual of collaring, so you decided not to add it, especially since you weren't in a 24/7 dynamic and not in fixed roles either. And you know Abby doesn't mean putting this collar as the collar, but it is still so hot. The whole thing is not done by the book or by rules, but you really don't care: whatever Abby wants, Abby gets. 

"I will want to tug on it." You tell her, honestly, and Abby thinks for a second.  

"Yeah, okay. Traffic lights, then." 

You nod and add "collaring" in your messy handwriting. 

You know Abby will wear this skirt, it's not a surprise, but you're still not prepared when you walk into the kitchen. 

Abby is standing there, and you trail her bare legs up until you see the edge of the skirt and holy fuck. Holy fuck she looks good in it, her trained perky ass making the folds of the skirt to look especially delicious. You lick your lips as your fingers twitch, because you want to lift it already and get a look at her pretty little pussy. 

And your eyes go up and you see this tight t-shirt that shows all the muscles in Abby's back and shoulders and you want to bite her and mark her. 

"Wow, princess." You sigh and make your way to her, squeezing her waist. Abby jumps, surprised, but relaxes against you. "You look so fucking pretty." 

"Thank you."

"Give me a twirl, will you?" You step away to give her space.

Abby is clearly embarrassed, but she does the cutest twirl in the world and yes, you can see her ass. And she is not wearing underwear, just as you told her. 

"Beautiful." You murmur and run your hand up her thigh, lifting the skirt just a little. "You wanna watch something? I brought this from the library."

You show her the dvd and Abby is still tethered to reality, so she reads the summary carefully. 

"Sounds okay. Not like the last time." 

"Fuck you, baby." You pinch her side in revenge. "Let's go."

It seems so normal. It seems like any other day off, you and Abby sitting on the couch, but even as you pretend to watch the movie, you see how twitchy Abby is getting. 

She plays with the ham of her skirt and it's so fucking cute - but then she smooths the fabric and you feel like you're going to explode: Abby enjoys wearing it. Abby likes it in a way that a girl who was forced to grow up in a horrible fucking world would enjoy doing normal girly things. 

Maybe Abby is not not so girly after all. 

Your heart feels tender right now and you can't help but to put your hand on her thigh, drawing little circles on her sensitive skin. 

"Do you like it?"

"A little predictable, but still better." Abby shrugs and squeaks when you squeeze her thigh. "Yeah." She is shy now. "I feel pretty." 

"You are pretty, princess." You whisper in her ear, making her shudder.

But you don't do anything else. You keep watching the movie, caressing Abby's thigh and pretend not to notice the change in her breathing. Then Abby starts shifting a little and you look down to see her nipples perked up. The fabric is rubbing against her sensitive skin and you just wait, because in a minute you feel how Abby tries to press her thighs together, thinking she is sneaky. 

You chuckle and move your hand under the skirt, slowly parting her folds. Abby tries to keep her whimper to herself, but you feel how wet she is. 

"What's got you so worked up, pretty girl?" You ask innocently while you brush your thumb over Abby's clit. 

"Nothing." Abby breathes out and you chuckle. 

"Really?" You wonder and pick up the speed, flicking Abby's clit until she presses her thighs together.

It's such a pretty sight: your hand under Abby's skirt, squeezed by her warm thighs, her knees pressed together. Abby is biting her lip and you watch her while your fingers tease her relentlessly. She looks desperate and helpless, and you live for it.

"Were you thinking exactly about this? How good I will make you feel under your pretty skirt?" You gently bite Abby's neck and she joists. "But we are watching a movie, princess, and I'm really interested in it. So you will give a narration while I play with your pretty pussy." You can't give less fucks about this movie, but making life harder for Abby is your favourite game.

"Yes, ma'am." Abby is not fully in the subspace yet, so she feels a little shy, but she crumbles completely when your eyes meet. 

You slide down to the floor and make Abby put her feet by her sides for better access. The skirt falls between her legs and covers her cunt, and you lean back to look at her. Abby is blushing and frowning in desperation, her nipples are perking through the t-shirt and her plushy thighs are open so shamelessly for you. 

"You stop talking, I stop touching you." You warn Abby and she nods. "Now lift your shirt up." 

Abby does as she told and now this is a sight, her small tits squeezed by the t-shirt, her abs flexing as she breathes deeply. Abby already looks ruined and you haven't done anything yet.

"What is happening there?" You ask routinely and lift Abby's skirt up, revealing her soaked little cunt. You spread her lips open and circle her clit with your thumb. 

"She is- she is at work again." Abby sighs and you hum, encouraging her. "She is talking to the cigarette selling woman." It sounds like Abby is relieved when she finishes her line and you laugh to yourself: your poor baby is trying to be good for you.

You leave her clit alone and push two fingers in slowly, watching her body react to you as beautiful as always. Abby freezes and instead of watching the movie, watches your fingers disappear in her.

"I'll take them out." You threaten and Abby snaps back into watching. 

"There's this creepy guy," Abby swallows hard when you start slowly pumping your fingers in and out. "And she has an idea- fuck." You just curled your fingers and Abby stops watching again, but quickly opens her eyes.

"What's the idea?" 

"She wants the sell- ah, fuck - selling lady and the- the-" You pick up the speed of your fingers and Abby clutches to your shoulders. You reach with your free hand and pinch her nipple, and Abby twitches in response, her pussy clenches on you. "Fuck, it feels so good, ma'am."

"And I'm yet to hear about her idea." You say with a hint of a threat, but your thrusts only get rougher. 

"She is playing matchmaker, ohmygod!" Abby whimpers and in reward you lick the long strip from your fingers buried in her pussy to her neglected clit. You suck on it and Abby lets out a shriek as her knees are closing up above your head. "Fuck, oh god- I can't-" 

You keep sucking on her clit until she is shaking and moaning, but then you move away and take out your fingers. 

"Is she still playing matchmaker?" You ask sternly.  Abby blinks and checks the screen. 

"No."

"That's what I fucking thought." You knead Abby's thighs a little painfully and keep her legs open for you. "Keep talking, princess."

Abby nods feverishly and swallows. Such a pretty fucking sight, you think as you look up to her: Abby's mouth is open and she really tries so hard to watch this stupid movie, but you push your fingers inside again and all her efforts go to waste as she twitches and blinks very fast in a attempt to not close her eyes.

"She is telling the selling lady that the creepy g- fuck-" Abby sobs when you put your mouth back on her. You play with her clit and suck on it again, making Abby buck her hips into your face. "The- the creepy guy is in- ma'am! - is in love with her!" 

You push Abby's legs together and up, almost folding her in half and push your tongue alongside your fingers, getting drunk on her taste. Abby is a smart girl, so she holds herself under her knees to help you and moans when she feels your tongue and your fingers inside.  Abby always tastes and feels like heaven, and you never want to leave her pussy alone. 

"Ma'am I'm gonna cum." Abby whimpers and you get rough, every push of your fingers is moving Abby's whole body with the sheer force of it, because Abby is not behaving.

"Is her idea working?" You suck on her clit again and Abby whines and sobs while forcing herself to look at the screen.

"Y-yes!" Abby shouts and cums on your fingers, sucking them in on every spasm. You pick up the pace and Abby tries to fight you off, but you slap her hand away and fuck her through her orgasm until her thighs are shaking uncontrollably. Abby is whimpering on every exhale, her abs are twitching, and you smile wolfishly.

"You did so good, princess." You let Abby's legs go gently and fix her skirt, smoothing the fabric. Abby looks at you with pleading eyes and your heart swells, so you straighten up and kiss her slowly and delicately. Abby relaxes and caresses your neck, chasing your mouth, and you can’t help yourself as you pinch her nipples playfully. 

“You want your collar?” You ask softly and Abby nods eagerly. “Show me how good your throat is first.”

Bratty Abby is fun, and you like the back and forth of it, but good girl Abby makes you feral: you just told her what you want and she is already opening her mouth for you, sticking her tongue out.

“Good fucking girl.” You growl and push your fingers down her throat. 

You fuck Abby’s throat until she is gurgling and her eyes roll back into her skull: you know she likes it, likes to relax her throat and let you use her as you wish. Abby is not even gagging now, so used to it, but you can feel how her throat clenches on you sometimes. Abby looks so cute like this, her tits out, her eyes closed and her thighs pressed together under the skirt as it spreads so prettily around her hips. 

“Beautiful.” You murmur and clean up her spit from her chin. Abby smiles at you, clearly pleased from praise, and you kiss her again as a reward. Abby likes kisses, especially if she is needy, as if it keeps her tethered to you. "Show me your neck, princess."

Abby straightens up and proudly shows you her neck - she is so cute you can't help your giggle. You take out the small belt and Abby looks at you with wide eyes as if you’re her god. 

"Mine." You tell her when you tighten the collar around her neck. "You're mine." 

"Yours, ma'am." Abby answers in a small voice and you see how any rational thought leaves Abby’s head as her eyes get cloudy. "Can I touch it, ma'am?"

"Go ahead." You nod and watch her strong fingers that leave bruises on your thighs brush over the leather with such care. "We're not done, princess." 

Abby nods and you tug on her collar until she stands up on her shaking legs and follows you to the bedroom. There's enough space for your fingers to fit in under the collar, but you're still careful with it: it's a new thing and you don't want to hurt Abby in a way she doesn't want to be hurt. 

You lead Abby to the bed, but instead of getting her to lie down, you sit on the bed and tug on her collar to get her down on her knees. Abby slowly sits on her thighs and fixes the skirt again, and you just can't. She is so fucking cute in it, and you can see the curve of her hips in the mirror, her waist looks tiny and the dips along her spine are so fucking hot. 

You caress Abby's cheekbone with your thumb, adoring her, and she blooms. Abby likes subbing because she's loved so fully at her weakest and most vulnerable like she's never been before - she's literally on her knees, with a collar around her neck and in a skirt and you look at her like she is divine.

"Is your throat good enough for my cock too, princess?"  You ask with a teasing smirk, palming your strap through the fabric of your pants. 

"Yes ma'am. I'll be so good for you." Abby pleads and grabs at your thighs before she remembers herself. 

"Too eager for your own good, huh?" You weave your fingers through her hair at the back, right under the braid, holding her head up. "Come on, get to work."

Abby tugs your pants down and you can see in the mirror how she presses her thighs together when she sees your strap, and that won't do. 

"Spread your legs and arch your back, I wanna see how wet you're gonna get." 

Abby does exactly as she is told, even lifting herself up a little so she could reach your lap, and you see her skirt covering everything. It's a downside, but Abby is smart, so she pushes the skirt to the front just enough for it to go up and your grip in her hair tightens from how sexy she looks. The edge of the skirt is now reaching to the middle of her ass and you see her wet pussy glisten; the contrast of her waist to hips ratio makes her ass look even better, and you feel like you're gonna cum just from watching Abby getting wet. 

"Fucking beautiful." You growl and Abby even shakes her ass a little to make it jiggle. "Focus, princess." You tell her sternly, and Abby arches into you even more. 

You tug Abby's head back and she opens her mouth automatically, so you push your cock inside just a little - Abby wraps her lips around the head and you let go of her hair, letting her run the show and have fun. Abby leaves wet open mouthed kisses along the length of your strap and you hum in approval, petting her head. She is blushing and her freckles look so pretty on her pink cheeks, her eyelashes flatter when she closes her eyes and licks the whole length of your strap. The movements cause the harness to move against your clit and your breathing gets heavier - you didn't expect it to happen, you must've put the harness in a different way - and Abby notices how tense are your thighs under her hands. She makes eye contact with you to check in, and you smile at her. 

"You're doing so good princess, you might make me cum if you keep it up."

Abby whimpers when she hears it - it's very rare for you to even allow her to touch you when you dom her, let alone make you cum, but Abby wants to. She always wants to please you in any way she's allowed to. 

"Please let me make you cum, ma'am." Abby begs, looking at you with her big doe eyes. 

"You can try, princess." You chuckle, not very sure that she can, but Abby seems determined. 

Abby lifts up a little again and lowers her head on your cock, taking as much as she can while she still can breathe, and when she comes back up, the harness grinds against your clit, making you hiss. Abby wiggles in excitement and starts to bob her head up and down, getting dizzy from hearing your panting and hissing above her.

"Just like that, babygirl." You pant and put your hand on Abby's head, slightly pushing the strap deeper. "You can take it, right?" You coo and Abby moans in agreement. "Good girl. Relax for me."

You hold Abby's head by her braid and push your strap deeper and deeper while Abby's eyes roll back into her skull. There is something so comforting about having her throat stuffed Abby can't help herself but to go absolutely slack while you fuck her throat, grunting and panting as your own pleasure builds up. 

"Ride your fingers, princess, I know you want to." 

Fucking hell, you think as you watch Abby pump her fingers in and out in the mirror, her thighs and ass look so delicious with the skirt on. Abby moans and whimpers as you fuck her throat and she fucks herself, and you know you're not going to last long. 

Your grip tightens in her hair and Abby whimpers, and you can see in the mirror how rough she is being with herself, desperate to cum. 

"Fuck-" You whimper and buck your hips up to get more friction and the same time as Abby swallows you down, and the pressure ticks you off right away. 

Your thighs shake and your hips buck, chasing the aftershocks of your orgasm while Abby watches you with wide eyes, her own fingers forgotten. She is not even breathing, absolutely mesmerised by your reactions - she made you cum, she made you cum without even touching you. 

You pant, still twitching from your orgasm, but you find the strength to move Abby away from the strap despite her whining. 

"Come here." You tug on her collar again to make her move and Abby straddles you. "Holy fuck." You whisper when you look at her. "My best girl." You kiss Abby's shoulder and she giggles.

"Thank you, ma'am." 

You smile at her and then lie down on the bed, tugging on Abby's hips so she would move. Abby is bright red - for some reason she is still so shy when you make her sit on your face - but she moves up, until her thighs are by the sides of your face. Abby can't even look at you, her eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks.

“Look at me.” You tell her and Abby steals a glance at you, which is not what you wanted. “I said look at me.”

And Abby looks, tries her hardest to maintain eye contact with you as you push her down on your face, burying yourself in her soaked pussy. 

Abby whines when you suck on her sensitive clit since she's been close after fucking herself earlier. You don't waste any time and eat her out messily, getting her wetness all over your face as you devour her, fucking her with your tongue, rubbing and sucking her clit, while Abby writhes on top of you. 

“Oh god-” She sobs and you grab a handful of her hips, pulling her skirt up so you can see her. “I'm gonna-”

And that is exactly your cue to stop, leaving Abby panting and whimpering on top of you. You watch her pretty clit throb from being so close to orgasm and smirk. 

Abby is confused and there's a tiniest hint of hurt on her face: she did such a good job and you are not letting her cum?

You chuckle and signal her to move. 

“Lie down on your stomach.” You tell her and while Abby does as she is told, you fix your harness and grab a pillow to put it under Abby's hips. 

Seeing Abby's fat thighs pressed together with her wet glistening hole between them makes you want to ruin her. The sight of your strong, dangerous girlfriend all shy and pretty and in this damn skirt makes you froth at your mouth like a fucking dog. Abby makes you feel like the most unhinged obsessed creep and the way she welcomes your dark side - as you think of it - is why you would die for her at any moment. 

You can't help the possessive bite you leave on her neck, practically growling into her ear.

“You're mine.” You tell her and Abby nods, shows her neck with a collar on it. 

“Yours.” She whispers and bucks her hips into you, presenting herself for you. 

You line your strap up and push inside, feeling how tight Abby is from being so close to an orgasm. 

“It's a pity you can't see yourself, princess.” You tell her as you watch the head of your strap slowly disappear in her hole. “You're close, aren't you?”

“Please, ma'am.” Abby whimpers and you part her ass cheeks to give yourself a show. 

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.” Abby says and you smile. 

“You can do better than that.”

You're not usually the “beg me” type, but now you want Abby to be desperate. You keep pushing extremely slowly, teasing Abby and moving away when she bucks her hips. 

“Please, I need you.” Abby starts shyly and oh, what a great idea it is. “Ma'am, I need you, please fuck me, only you can make me feel good, please-”

You push all the way in in one go and Abby moans loudly.

“Good fucking girl.” You growl and pick a hard pace right away, slamming into Abby so hard her ass jiggles. Abby sobs and her back tenses: she feels you so deep and she is so tight in this position, and she is so fucking close. You knead her ass through the skirt and just watch your strap disappear in Abby, fucking her mercilessly. 

“Ma’am-” Abby whimpers and holds the pillow under her head for dear life, trying to hold off her orgasm. “Can I-” Abby doesn't get to finish her sentence as your next thrust knocks the air out of her. 

“Cum, babygirl.” You tell her gently while you thrust into Abby's tight little pussy with force, grabbing her hips for stability. 

Abby coils and lifts her ass as her orgasm rips through her body like an electric shock, and you chuckle, satisfied, your movements slowing down. You're not stopping, still moving inside her, and Abby squeezes her thighs together under you, whimpering. 

“Relax, princess, and let me have you.” You murmur into her ear and continue fucking her slowly, watching your strap come out of her covered in her cum. 

Abby genuinely tries to relax, but she is sensitive right now and your cock drags along her walls so slowly it drives her crazy. She likes feeling so stuffed, so full of you, but now she wants to cum again. 

“Ma'am, please go faster.” Abby asks you and you chuckle. 

“You're so impatient.” You tsk and slap her ass cheek lightly, watching it jiggle. “You're gonna cum like this or not at all, understood?”

“Yes ma'am.” Abby says, humbled, but her voice breaks in a moan when you push inside to the hilt. “Fuck.”

You smile and pull out just to push back and Abby clutches to the pillow, her whole body feels like she is on fire. You don't make it easier as your lips travel over her sensitive back, every touch of your hot tongue makes her tighten around your strap and moan pathetically. 

Abby is so close and so, so fucking far away from her orgasm and you know it, so you continue thrusting into her slowly until Abby starts to squirm and misbehave as she pushes back, chasing your strap. 

“Stop it.” You tell her sternly and push her lower back into the bed to stop her from moving. 

“Ma'am, please!” Abby whines.

You tug on her collar quite roughly and press your lips to her ear. 

“Such a brat.” You growl and slam into Abby roughly, making her squeal. “Turn on your side.” 

And that's how Abby ends up being fucked roughly from behind while you squeeze her throat and play with her clit relentlessly, bringing her to the edge immediately. Your pelvis hits her ass at every thrust and Abby whines and whimpers, her eyes rolled back, her head absolutely empty. Abby feels like she doesn’t exist anymore, only your hands and your voice and your cock do - and she feels so fucking good. 

“Ma’am-” Abby moans frantically. “It feels so good, you feel so good, thankyouthankyouthankyou” Is all you can hear between Abby’s sobs. You smile darkly and fuck her harder until she shrieks and cums again. 

But you don’t stop. You keep fucking Abby through her orgasm, you keep fucking her when she whines from being too sensitive, you keep fucking her even when she tries to move your hand away from her clit.

“Ma’am, it’s too much- I can’t-”

“You can take it.” You pant into her ear. “You wanted to cum so much before, so keep cumming.”  

And Abby does, with another sob. She cums again, and again, until it becomes too much for real, and her face is wet with tears. She feels like overstimulation now hurts more than pleases, and maybe you’re right, she has another one in her, but Abby feels exhausted. 

“Yellow.” Abby sniffles, and you stop moving right away, carefully letting go of her tit, but not removing the strap yet in case it will hurt Abby.

“Too much?” You ask her gently and Abby nods. “Does something hurt?” You ask her with such care in your voice Abby wants to cry, because she feels like she could’ve gone longer and now she’s disappointed you. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Abby sniffles, and you get more alert than ever.

“Abby? Can I hug you?” Abby nods and you carefully wrap your arms around her and bury your face in her neck. “Talk to me, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Did I say something?”

“No- It’s just- It started to hurt and I’m tired- fuck, I’m sorry.” 

“Baby, why are you saying sorry? It’s okay, you did good by using the safeword.”

“I just feel like I could go longer, I should not have stopped you.” Abby admits and sniffles again, ashamed - her emotions skyrocket in subspace.

“I don’t want you to push your limits to please me. How about we stop now, get clean and then cuddle and talk, if you want? How does it sound?”

“We can continue, I just need a moment.” Abby pleads as her guilt grows.

“I don't think we should, sweets.” That pet name makes Abby squeeze her eyes: you only use it when she is not allowed to argue. “It's okay. You're okay. You didn't do anything wrong.” You kiss her shoulder and Abby's head gets a little clearer. “Thank you for telling me, you did so well.”

This makes Abby feel a little better; she nods and squeezes your hand in return. You carefully remove the strap while Abby winces and then you help her get up and go to the bathroom, to shower. 

You take her clothes and collar off, and Abby doesn’t look at you, still beating herself up, but you won’t have it. So when you two get into the shower and water starts to wash the sweat and cum off both of you, you take her face in your hands and kiss her cheeks, her nose, her eyes and forehead, everywhere really. Just small gentle kisses, until Abby smiles and looks at you bashfully.

“You have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” You tell her honestly and Abby blushes, but her mood seems to go up. 

You wash both of you gently, carefully going over Abby’s crotch, and she relaxes under your arms. You dry both of you after and help Abby change into her pjs. She gets under the blankets and you kiss her forehead before going to the kitchen and getting some food for both of you. 

When you return with two plates and a big cup, Abby looks sleepily at you, seemingly calm. But you know her, you know how guilt can eat her alive, so you keep being alert. 

“Drink this first.” You give Abby warm water with honey and she drinks it, scrunching her nose from the sweetness of it. Then you eat in comfortable silence, both noticing with surprise how hungry you were - which should not be a surprise by now, really. You finish your food and clean up so you can cuddle Abby and sooth her. Abby gets on top of you and you caress her hair and shoulders absentmindedly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Abby sounds more sober now too. “I just-” She huffs, annoyed at herself. “I dunno how to explain. I could've gone longer.” 

“I don't want to hurt you. Not in a way you don't enjoy.” You remind her. Abby loves you so much she is scared to fuck everything up, and it led to some problems before, when she put your needs above hers. You talked about it, but sometimes, especially if Abby subs, she slips and does it again. This is exactly why you have a “sweets” rule: to stop her before she hurts both of you with her sacrifices. 

“I just feel like I'm..weak.” Abby admits and you chuckle. 

“You're not. You're a grownup who can tell their limits, and I'm so happy you did.” You say kindly. “I trust you. You were so good for me today, including using the safeword.” You kiss the top of Abby's head and she hugs you tighter. “I'm sorry I didn't check in with you.”

Abby nods and looks up to you. 

“We both agreed to this, right? We literally fucked around and found out.” You chuckle and reach out to grab the honey water for Abby. 

“I know you hate it, but your throat needs it.”

Abby groans and drinks it, absolutely despising the honey: this is the only drawback of getting her throat fucked.

“Did you like the skirt?” Abby asks playfully. 

“Yes. You looked so good in it, god. I got a little crazy.” You kiss her honey lips and Abby smiles into your mouth. 

“Well, next time it's your turn.” She says seriously and you laugh. 

“If you promise to not rip it apart.” 

[tinfoil-jones]

Jerk Ford AU: Silliness IV

Jerk Ford's behaviour was way worse while he was in the multiverse because while he was in his own dimension, Stan was there to keep him from going too far, and to mediate his interactions with other people when it came to important business.

Once he fell through the portal? Completely unrestrained.

Here's a small list of some of things he's done across the multiverse:

Un-sunk the mythical City of Atlantis to get back at a 'sh*tty tourist company'

Lifetime ban from all Space Waffle House locations across time and space for inciting a riot because a waitress kept calling him 'honey'.

Had someone legally assigned to permanent Cosmic Jury Duty.

Sowing the seeds of an extremely invasive and fast-growing varient of cucumber all over a large city in the Cat Dimension.

Not giving his two weeks notice at Space Hooters.

Infecting a galaxy-encompassing digital records archive with a virus that changed every third noun with the word 'dick'.

Invading a weed farm on a parallel Earth and replacing the 'mother plant' that all of the other weed plants were cloned from with a strain of marijuanna thats identical in every way, except it produces no THC.

Impersonated one of the Bounty Hunter versions of Ford so he could fake his own death, collect the bounty for himself from the Ford Hate Club, crash the party they threw to celebrate, and then slip away right as the real Bounty Hunter Ford showed up to report that he'd failed to capture Jerk Ford.

---

Remember how in a reverse portal what-if Jerk Ford told Fiddleford he would blow up the planet if he didn't help him rebuild the portal? And Fiddleford called his bluff?

Imagine you're Bill Cipher, and an oddly calm Stanford Pines tells you that in three days, he's going to blow up the Nightmare Realm with you in it.

So you laugh, because he's bluffing.

Two days later, it turns out he wasn't bluffing about blowing up the Nightmare Realm with you in it.

He was bluffing about giving you a third day, because he's a jerk like that.

---

Boss Music? This guy isn't much of a fighter, he isn't a boss fight. It isn't hard to finish a fight with him because he's impossible to beat in a hand-to-hand fight - he isn't very strong compared to most versions of Ford Pines- it's hard to finish a fight with him because he's slippery. He's just going to escape and run if he doesn't think he can win.

If I were to give him a theme song or something, it'd probably be Dangerous by Jorge Rivera-Herrans. Mostly because of the "I have to get home" sentiment.

You have to ignore the fact that he didn't actually get himself home, just like canon Ford his brother had to fix the portal to bring him back.

Bro was at least trying to get back home.

Here's a Jerk Ford Playlist by @tearosepedall

---

Actually, the reverse portal scenario doesn't go quite the way you think it does.

Jerk Ford has to pretend to be Stanley. A school teacher. A resident of society that Gravity Falls actually loves. When he's been an active menace to society his whole life.

Stanley gets shoved into an unforgiving multiverse full of monsters, demons, aliens, and versions of his brother who project their resentment and anger towards their actual twin onto him instead as a proxy.

And they both ask themselves: "What would my brother do in this situation?"

Anyways, this is what happens with Stanley:

And this is what happens with Jerk Ford:

---

Fun fact: Jerk Ford is the reason there's no gnome queen.

While he was studying the gnomes during his researcher years in Gravity Falls, he discovered that the Gnomes only had one female, who was their queen by default.

Anyways he talks to her about how her greatest ambition in life shouldn't be having a hundred husbands and being barefoot and pregnant forever. No, her greatest ambition in life should be being one of the greatest hat models the world has ever known.

Anyways now she lives in New York, she may or may not also be a drug lord in the pixie dust cartel.

Soos, Mabel, and Dipper tried asking the mail box questions once.

It sent them a really long, angry, rambling letter starting with "What the f*ck did you just f*cking say about me, you little b*tch? I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals,"

Later on Dipper asked Ford about it, and he reveals that he traumatized the entity on the other side of the mailbox by sending it the question "is your refrigerator running?" every day for almost six years straight.

[waokevale]

[For the record, WX-78's relationship with Wagstaff portrayed here is strictly PLATONIC and bordering familial. The similarities of their appearances are intentional]

I swear to God if people focus strictly on Woodrow again while trying to ignore Wagstaff's existence—

Ik people hate him and I'm tired of it, he's just a guy, it's not funny when you're doing it for so long. Max, while under the influence of them did a lot of worse things, and while I don't hate him for it, there definitely feels to be a double standard.

Y'know actually, it's kinda hilarious that whenever people come in contact with nightmare fuel or shadow creatures, they turn into the worst versions of themselves; Ie. William becoming Maxwell, inadvertently ruining Charlie's life, getting her killed and starting a kidnapping spree, trying to take someone like Witherstone straight up out of spite and personal grudges.

Willow burning down the Orphanage and seemingly appearing to show no remorse or internal conflict afterwards (whether there were other kids or not– but let's be honest, realistically she wouldn't have been the only kid in there).

Wagstaff genuinely trying to help people (while also taking secret payment from them, because while they are rich, he's seemingly broke, seeing his apartment and junk.) but he still goes out of his way to save their lives, until he stumbles upon the projector which is filled to the brim with nightmare fuel– I think you get the point. You could easily assume that humans getting in contact with this substance tend to become more callous of the others' general well-being.

Aside from that, it's fun to portray how Wagstaff's and Woodrow's relationship used to be. I always thought Woodrow used to highly admire Wagstaff and think of him as a mentor or father figure of sorts, while Wagstaff definitely was impressed with their skills, and who knows, maybe even cared about them somewhat as well.

People tend to villify Wagstaff while making WX appear blameless and an innocent victim, which is strictly false. I LOVE WX, but they are screwed up and evil, that is no act. I wanted to highlight this aspect of them here, they appear to have good intentions, but they don't care about what his needs and wants are here. They're trying to appear noble by wanting to save him from his awful flesh, but in reality, as soon as he begins doubting them and claims their project is hazardous and needs to be nullified, they immediately turn their back on him and attack him. Of course their plan fails and they end up in the Constant, bearing spite and resentment towards him, as well as a lot of internalized contlict. They don't fully hate him, because to an extent, they were the one who took things too far.

In a way, both of them appear to share the trait of : If it doesn't work, get rid of it and start anew, and whilst this mentality mostly applies for organic creatures in WX-78's case, Wagstaff is more double-sided.

No, but I genuinely love this old man and want to explore his lore, why he is as fucked up as he is, because he's a very interesting and fleshed out character!

[booliuu]

Can you write random ticci toby headcanons

heeeey, thx for checking out my blog!!! :D and of course! The headcanons are bit long because i love yapping about this silly guy TvT.

TW: self harm

pt 2

᭄᭡ Ticci toby General Headcanons ⊹₊

• German 🇩🇪. When he is pissed he will curse under his breath in german🧍‍♀️ no one in the mansion knows what the hell he’s saying. Has a slight accent too..!

•He’s super tall like standing between something like 5’6 or close to 6’2.. BUT HAS SUPER BAD POSTURE LIIIKE….

•Im sticking with his canon age so he’s around his mid 30’s by now .

• His favorite colors has to be green , orange, brown, red, yk warm colors.

• His hobbies consist of animal watching and petting random animals that he founds crossing path during missions or just simply hanging out around the slender forest far away from other creeps because he values his alone time.

• wood craving !!!

• speaking of wood craving oh my gosh he’s really good at it, sometimes he make his friends wooden animal figures and will leave them in their room’s as a presents :) he’s so sweet…

• listening to music from phones that he stolen from people he encounters ( if you know what i mean..)

• drawing animals he finds interesting :) I like the idea of him having a sketchbook dedicated for this specifically.

• Speaking of his hobbies , he preferable likes to do them alone because he gets overwhelmed easily ( I blame his father -) and considering his past and being teased frequently about his tics and so forth he close to non verbal. But if he does talk it close to really short responses.

Here’s angst headcanons ( it’s mostly about his past) . . . TW: self harm

• I am a very firm believer that the name “ ticci toby” was not a chosen name but rather a nickname from his bullies from school that tease him. he absolutely hates the name.

• When his family found out about his diagnoses of CIPA ( Congenital Insensitivity to Pain with Anhidrosis) they had to take matters into their own hands, and they all made sure to the house is safe for him. Such putting tabs on their showers or bath tubs so he doesn’t burn himself alive or it’s so cold that it’s concerning, making sure the food he eating isn’t too hot or cold, yk stuff like that..

• With tourette’s , I have a feeling his parents put him through countless speech & physical therapy. None will work and his father would yell at him about something he can’t control.

• When he found out about his CIPA , he tries desperately to feel pain or even any kind of bodily sensations. Such as ( TW : SELF HARM) scratching himself until he bleed , hitting himself , stuff like that. Mainly because he confused as hell why he can’t feel anything. My guess is that he so frustrated about it he can’t wrap around his head that’s the way he is.

• Every night , he goes to bed fall asleep to thoughts about what his life would been like if he was not like this….

OOOK enough angst!! here’s the continuation of his general headcanons . . .

• Yk how he has a scar on his face. Well many people like to state that he doesn’t take care of it..blah ..blah.. hides it with a mask that he always wears. Personally I feel like he takes care of himself by adding cream on to it ( proscribed by eyeless jack himself :D) , slowly but surely the scar looks better than when he first got it, he wears the mask to protect it from getting infections. ^^

• has a sweet tooth!!! It’s not just about waffles y’all just sayin…

• Even though he preferable like to do missions alone. He will sometimes bring someone with him like tim, brian , kate ( basically the whole gang-) , or ej .

• Not only he has CIPA & tourette’s but I believe he has schizophrenia, PTSD , Bipolar disorder and amnesia. especially with his encounter of slenderman is it made far worse…

dividers credit: @arneefigisikir , @saradika-graphics & @nakaharaism

A/n: Oh my gosh this was so fun to make!! I’m sorry if sentences were typed a bit weird , wonky , or very wordy TvT. I just reread your ask and it said random but… i thought it said general. i’m.. so sorry 🥲I hope this is alright if not my inbox is always open for requests :,D

* as always feedback is always welcome. if you like my content please don’t get to like or reblog ^^

liuuboo2025 do not copy , translate or plagiarize any of my works. thank you ♡ﾟ

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 22

Warnings: none. mostly fluff. slight jealousy.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: The summer days get hotter and your feelings confuse you more and more. A day at the lake might make things better.. or worse.

Word count: 4.7k

A/N: So, I really really struggled with this chapter and spent more time rewriting it than actually writing it. I'm sorry if it seems a little scattered and rushed, I promise the next one will be better. @hellfire--cult thank you as always, you were such a big help, you always are but especially with this chapter so thank you, love

series masterlist

-

Steve never thought that he would end up here. Working at some ice cream shop with a girl who despised him for the first few weeks. He couldn’t blame her. Robin is your friend, she knows what he did to you and it’s not just that. Up until this spring, he didn’t even really know who she was, she was just someone he passed by in school and didn’t even bother to glance at or even acknowledge.

Now that he got to know her a little, he couldn’t help but take a liking towards her. She may be snappy at times but she is.. cool. He likes her. Not in the way he liked Nancy or you. But, in a way he should’ve liked Nancy – just as a friend. 

He calls her friend. Robin refuses to call him that. 

She likes to pretend that they are enemies but really, they finally get along after weeks of bickering at Scoops Ahoy. After a little incident that got them locked up in the storage room for a whole night, they got even closer – who knew that weed and a little heart to heart would get them to like each other?

Robin looks at Steve differently now, her looks aren’t filled with hate or annoyance anymore – well, she still rolls her eyes and makes fun of him but it’s not the same anymore. 

Sometimes when you’re around, she gives him pitiful looks. He can’t stand it. He doesn’t want or even deserve pity, not from her, not from anyone.

She is looking at him with that look right now. 

He sighs, trying to give her somewhat of a smile before he looks down at the red solo cup in his hand. Your giggles make his heart flutter and hurt at the same time. You are sitting on one of the logs around the fire, with Eddie. His jacket is wrapped around your shoulders, your legs are thrown over his thigh, you are practically sitting on his lap. You are nodding along to something he’s saying. 

You two are in your own little world, ignoring the rest of the people around you. It’s hard to tell what the two of you are. Every day, he wonders if you have made that move yet. The one he made with you back when you went from friends to something more. 

People are celebrating the fourth of July with a bonfire party at Lovers Lake, just like every year. In all the previous years before this one, you were by his side, giggling at something he would say, wearing his jacket, sitting on his lap. 

Now you sit there with Eddie. 

And it all feels so wrong, you shouldn’t be there with Eddie. 

You belong with him. 

“Are you okay?” 

Robin’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, he looks at her, nodding. 

She tilts her head, giving him another pitiful look. 

“You’re not drunk, are you?” 

He shakes his head, chuckling softly, “no, whenever I get drunk or high I end up doing or saying something stupid.” 

She chuckles, though, it’s more of a sad chuckle. When they got stuck in the storage room, Steve opened up about a lot of things – things that he would have never talked about had he been sober. 

He let her have a look inside. 

Robin didn’t think that she would ever understand Steve and why he left you. But, she understands him now, a little. 

He was scared of how much he loved you. 

“Do you wanna go home?” 

“Nah, I’m your ride, remember?” 

She pats his back, giving him a smile, “that’s right, dude. You should go and have some fun.”

He snorts, shaking his head. He glances at you, not expecting to see you looking at him – staring at him. He can’t read the look in your eyes but he can see the smile that tugs at your lips. You raise your hand, waving at him, shyly.  

His eyes light up, his lips twitch. 

Robin notices the look on his face, the happiness that takes over in an instant. She follows his gaze. 

“Do you wanna go talk to her?” Robin asks, nudging his shoulder.

He looks at you with softened eyes. His shoulders fall when you break eye contact, turning away from him to face Eddie again. 

“No,” he whispers. 

“Why not?” Robin asks, knowing that he wants to talk to you.

“She’s with Eddie.”

“So? You talk to her every time they come to Scoops together.”

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

Steve nudges his chin towards you, “look at them.”

Robin sighs, looking over at you and Eddie. His arm is now wrapped around your shoulder, he is smiling as you whisper something in his ear. 

“I won’t interrupt that.”

She knows how Steve feels about you, she knows how Eddie feels about you but, what she doesn’t know is how you feel about them or how you feel in general. You don’t talk about your feelings, you don’t know how to, every time you did try to talk about them with her, you fell into a ramble, mixing up words, stringing together sentences that would make no sense, confusing both her and yourself. 

It wasn’t always like this. 

You used to be able to talk about your feelings. You never rambled or broke down in the middle of a sentence and she felt like you were getting better after each conversation you had. 

Then, you went on that date with Ray and everything went downhill after that. 

You spent so much time trying to get over the pain that Steve had caused you. You got stronger and more confident. And it seemed as though you got – or, started to get over him. It took months to get up and all it took was a night to fall back down. 

She sighs. 

“I get it, Steve.”

-

“Careful.”

“I am careful!” 

“No, you’re not! You’ve been on this ladder unsupervised.” 

“So?”

“So? You’re a clutz!” 

You roll your eyes, snorting at his words. 

“No, I’m not, Eddie.” 

You finish taping the new Metallica poster to the wall, glancing down at him, “alright, give me the next one, please?” 

Eddie chuckles, he lets go of the ladder and leans down, reaching for the last poster in the box. He unrolls it and his eyes widen. 

“Holy shit, that’s a new Iron Maiden poster!” He gasps, staring up at you with big eyes. 

You giggle, nodding, “I ‘accidentally’ ordered two.”

He furrows his brows. 

“Got one extra for you.”

His eyes light up and a smile appears on his face.

“No fucking way!”

You laugh at his little outburst. 

“It’s in the breakroom, I’ll get it after I put this one up,” you say, pointing to the poster in his hand. 

“You’re the best, did I ever tell you that? In case I haven’t, you’re the best, sweetheart!” 

He holds it out for you, grinning at you as your eyes meet. 

You shake your head in amusement, giggling, “I think you are the best but thanks.”

He grabs the ladder again, eying you with a smile on his face. 

To know that you thought of him while making orders for the store, to know that you got something for him, something that he didn’t even ask for, makes him so happy. 

“So, what are we doing tonight?” You ask. 

He watches the way you furrow your brows as you tape the poster right next to the Metallica one. You bite your lip, focusing on getting it even. 

“Uh, I’m not sure, what do you feel like doing?” 

“Dinner and a movie night?” You suggest, “Heather is throwing a party but I don’t feel like going.” 

“Me neither.” 

“So, dinner and movies it is.” 

“Sounds perfect to me, bab– s-sweetheart,” he clears his throat. 

Baby. He wanted to call you baby. 

Your cheeks heat up. You dare to glance at him, finding him looking completely flustered. His eyes are closed, his brows are knit together and his cheeks glow red. Cute. You have to suppress a giggle. 

“Alright, all done!” You clap your hands together after finishing hanging up the last poster. You grab the tape and the scissors, handing them to Eddie before you make your way down the ladder. 

“Careful,” he teases you. 

You only roll your eyes in response. You jump on the ground, looking up at him with a proud smile, “see? Not a clutz.” 

You shouldn’t have spoken too soon. The moment you take a step forward, you trip over the open box on the ground, stumbling forward. His hands land on your waist.

Your hands fall to his chest, your knee buckles but you don’t fall, he holds you tightly. 

“Not a clutz, huh?” He chuckles as he looks down at you. 

“That was an accident,” you pout, looking up into his eyes. 

You furrow your brows, his racing heart that you feel beneath your touch pulls your attention to his chest and for the first time, you notice how much bigger he actually is, how much taller he is. 

How did you not notice before?

“Hey guys!” 

Robin’s panicked voice causes the both of you to flinch. You both turn to look at her, frowning in confusion when you see the way she looks between you both. 

You slowly step away from Eddie. 

Why is she looking at you like that? Nothing happened.

“Hey,” you smile as you lean down, picking up the empty box. 

Eddie gives Robin a questioning look, tilting his head to the side. 

Her eyes are wide and she’s smiling, nervously. 

What the hell is she so nervous about?

A moment later, Steve walks into the store. Oh, right. Her new best friend, the one who gets jealous at every interaction he sees between you and him. Eddie rolls his eyes, not at him but at Robin and how protective she is of his feelings.

“Oh hey,” Steve mumbles, turning to look at Robin in surprise, “you come here on your day off?” 

She nods, stepping further into the store, “yep.”

“Buying new records for the car you don’t have?” He teases, smirking. 

“Ha ha,” she rolls her eyes. 

He chuckles and finally turns to face you. 

“Hey.”

You smile at him, “hi.”

Steve glances at Eddie who turns away, pretending to look around.

“So uh, what are you two doing here?” You ask, chuckling. 

Robin raises her brows, pointing at Eddie, “what’s he doing here?”

You walk behind the counter, putting the box down. You reach for the drink on the counter, lifting it up, “he brought me coffee and lunch.”

Robin nods, tilting her head, she smiles at Eddie, “you’re such a sweet friend, Eddie.”

He rolls his eyes at her, mumbling something under his breath before he turns away again. 

“I uh– I wanted to ask if you wanted to spend lunch break with me but, I see you got something already,” Steve mumbles, running his fingers through his hair as he looks down. 

“Oh, maybe next time?” You ask, trying to give him a smile.

‘Maybe next time’ sounds like a nicer version of ‘no, thank you.’

Steve knew that it was a mistake to come here and ask you to spend time with him, alone. But, he wanted to try. 

“W-We can go out for lunch together… on Monday?” You offer. 

His eyes light up and he looks up from the counter, he nods with a smile on his face. 

“I’d love to.”

He smiles at you and you smile at him. Neither of you notice the annoyed look on Eddie’s face. 

“And I wanted to ask if you wanna go to the lake tomorrow? You, me, Chrissy,” Robin smiles, “and your two uh–” she stops herself from saying what she actually wants to say as she gestures to Steve and Eddie, “buddies.” 

Steve squints his eyes at her, “buddies?” He whispers. 

“It’s supposed to get super hot tomorrow,” Robin says, ignoring Steve and Eddie’s glare. 

“Uh– sure, why not,” you shrug, “Eddie, do you wanna go?”

“Yeah, sure.”

You lift your brows, giving her a smile, “great.”

She lifts her hands, giving you two thumbs up, “great,” she grins, nudging Steve’s shoulder.

-

You should have known that Robin and Chrissy wouldn’t be here on time – poor Steve is probably in his car waiting for them. A part of you is relieved that Eddie didn’t have to pick them up though, you would still be waiting for them. 

You and Eddie are sitting on a large picnic blanket, looking at the water as you both snack on the grapes you brought. You are still in your sundress but the longer you sit out in the sun, the more you feel like ripping it off and jumping into the cold water. 

There aren’t many people around, a few kids with their parents, some teenagers you recognize from school but you and Eddie chose to sit away from everyone else. 

You are both quiet, enjoying each other’s company in silence as you wait for the others.

“They are taking so long,” you whine.

“I know,” Eddie chuckles. 

You glance at him, he stretches his legs out and leans back, looking at you with a smile on his face. 

“Do you wanna go swimming?”

You bite your lip, looking him up and down. You take your sunglasses off and put them on your bag. 

“If you come with me,” you say, giving him a sweet smile. 

“Do you think I’ll let you swim alone? There could be monsters and shit, I gotta protect you.” 

You laugh, shaking your head. 

“Monsters in Lovers Lake? The only monsters I see are those teenage boys – hold on, is that Carver?” You ask, scrunching your face up in disgust as you point at the blond who just jumped into the water, “you might be right, there are monsters.”

Eddie chuckles, “yeah, that’s a real monster.” 

You start to unbutton your dress. 

Eddie gets up, reaching for the hem of his shirt, he pulls it over his head, throwing it on the ground, it lands with a soft thud beside you. You look at the shirt as you push the dress down to your waist, looking up at Eddie. 

You have seen him shirtless before, countless times, actually. He is actually one of the only men you had seen shirtless – one was Steve, another one was Billy, but only because he walks around shirtless whenever he gets the chance to. Besides, he was never one that you had been attracted to. So, Billy doesn’t count. 

But you look at Eddie.

His body, his skin, his scent, different from the one you already know, the skin you traced. The freckles that are not on his skin, yet it is covered in tattoos. No sun kissed skin, yet still beautiful in its paleness. No brown luscious hair, but a messy mop of dark curls that still fall beautifully on his shoulders. Both beautiful, both different. But why are you even comparing?

“Ready to go?” 

You snap out of your thoughts, nodding. 

Sighing, you look down and finish taking your dress off. You press your lips together as you adjust your top. 

You hear the sharp breath he takes, the curse word that fell from his lips, the one he tried to cover with a cough. 

“I-Is t-that a new one?” He stutters, trying to rip his gaze away from your chest as he points to your swimsuit. 

You feel amused by the stutter, by the blush on his cheeks and the shakiness in his voice. 

“Yes,” you giggle. 

Eddie stares at you, at your body, at your soft skin that he is dying to touch. Your eyes that shine beneath the sunlight, the cherry red swimsuit that is hugging your body so perfectly. The way you look up at him with big eyes, parted and glossy lips. You look so gorgeous. 

“I love it.”

Your eyes widen and you are once again blushing. 

“Thank you, Eddie.”

He looks at you, not hungrily, not in a way others have wanted you before. He looks at you like you are the most precious thing in the world.

You push yourself up, leaning closer to him, you give him a teasing smile. 

“I’ll race you to the water.” And with that, you run off, giggling when you hear him cursing. 

“Hey! That’s not fair!” 

You squeal in surprise when he catches up with you quickly, he wraps his arms around your waist, picking you up and running into the water with you. He laughs at the squeal that falls from your lips again when the cold water touches your skin. 

“Got you,” he whispers in your ear as he holds you tightly, sinking in the water with you. 

“It’s so cold!” You gasp, holding his forearm tightly. 

“Wanna dive, sweetheart?” He teases. 

“No!” You squeal as he takes you deeper into the water. 

He chuckles when you push his hands off, putting some distance between you before you turn around to face him. 

“You wanna fight me?” You splash water his way. 

“Oh,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “you wanna play that game?” He asks, splashing water back at you. 

You nod as you walk back, suddenly feeling nervous when an evil smirk appears on his face. 

“How about you play the helpless victim?” 

“And you play the big bad monster?” 

He suddenly jumps forward, reaching for you but you quickly pull back, trying to run in the water.

“No!” 

You hear his dark chuckle behind you, “we didn’t even get started!” 

“You’re an evil water monater!” You giggle as you take a look at him, watching the way the few wet strands of his cling to his cheeks. 

His eyes light up with amusement, “the evil water monster is gonna get the pretty human.” 

Your giggle makes his heart flutter and his smile widens when you squeal again as his fingers brush against your wrist. 

“I almost got you!” 

“Leave me alone!” You laugh, making the mistake of running into the other direction, giving him the chance to grab you. His hands grab your waist and he pulls you against him, your back is now flush against his bare chest. His fingers digging into your sides as he starts to tickle you. 

“H-Hey!” You laugh, throwing your head back, “t-that’s not f-fair,” you giggle, gripping his wrists but he is stronger than you. “E-Eddie!” 

“Eddie!” He mocks, laughing. 

You push him back, hard enough for him to lose balance and as he falls, he takes you with him, wrapping his arms around you, you both fall into the water, laughing together as you fall against his chest.

The water sloshes around you. You are both giggling as you help each other up, holding each other's hands. He pulls you into him causing you to stumble forward a little. Your free hand falls against his wet chest as his falls to your waist. 

“Hi,” you chuckle. 

“Hey,” he smiles, moving his hand up to tuck the wet strands of your hair behind your ear.  

You look at his chest, eyeing his tattoos for a moment and then, you look up, eyes drifting to his lips. 

His brows knit together. He watches the way you look at him. His breathing stutters when your eyes continue to stare at his lips. But you are confused and completely lost. Why? What are you thinking about?

You pull away from him when you catch yourself thinking of something that shouldn’t even cross your mind. 

Why did you even think about it? 

Why did you have to get so close to him?

Wasn’t the kiss with Steve enough? 

Why are you trying to ruin another friendship?

You already lost Steve, you don’t want to lose Eddie too.

“Hey guys!” 

Both you and Eddie look up to find Robin running into the water, grinning at the both of you. 

“Hey!” 

The smile on your face is fake, Eddie can see it. 

“Took you long enough, Buckley,” Eddie chuckles. 

“Yeah, I uh– we stopped by the store, got some snacks,” she says with a shaky voice as she gets into the cold water. 

“Hey guys!” Chrissy yells from the spot you and Eddie picked, waving at the two of you. She sits down on the pink towel she just put on the grass next to yours. 

“Hi!” You smile, waving back at her. 

Judging by the tanning oil in her hand, you already know that she won’t be joining you in the water. 

Finally, you look at Steve, who seems unaware of what just almost happened. He takes his shirt off and runs his hand through his hair as he stands there in just his swim trunks, looking like some model that just walked out of a magazine. Your eyes widen as you stare at his chest. 

Since when does he have chest hair? 

He used to hate it and always shaved it when you were still together. 

You stare at it without meaning to, your eyes roam his body. He changed a little, his arms are more muscular than before, his shoulders are a little broader. His hair is longer too. 

When he looks up, you turn away, not wanting to be caught staring. 

“Robin, can I talk to you for a moment?” Eddie asks with pleading eyes. 

“Yeah sure.”

You watch as they both step away, leaving you standing by yourself for a moment. Good, you need it. You look around, deciding to go swimming without them. You take a deep breath and walk deeper into the water, letting the coldness envelope your body. You close your eyes and you start swimming. 

As you swim further away from the shore, the voices and the laughter from the people get lost in the distance. You hear the water sloshing, your breathing and your beating heart. 

You stop swimming and tilt your head back, stretching your arms out as you lay on your back, letting your body float. 

You try to not think. You try to not feel. You try to just be here and enjoy this. You enjoy the cold feeling on your skin beneath the water, the warm feeling of the sun shining down on your face. 

For a moment, it’s so quiet out here, it’s almost eerie.

You think about the joke Eddie made. Monsters in Lovers Lake. Now that you’re out here by yourself, you can’t help but think about it. Maybe there is something in the deep end.

Something could just snatch you up and pull you down. You definitely watch too many horror movies. 

“You’re too far out.”

Your heart leaps to your throat and you open your eyes, gasping as you clutch your chest.

“You scared me!” 

Steve’s lips part, his brows furrow. You place your hand on your chest, trying to calm your breathing. He can’t help but laugh as he takes in the terrified look on your face. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, swimming closer to you, “did you think about that weird lake monster that you were so afraid of when you were a kid?” 

“Huh – oh! O-Oh, you remember that?” You laugh. 

He nods, “yeah, you only talked about it like every day.” 

You snort, rolling your eyes. 

“I wasn’t thinking about that monster.” 

“A different one then?” 

“Maybe.” 

He laughs, “still scared of monsters that don’t exist, I see.” 

“Hey, you never know, something could just emerge from the water.” You swim towards him, getting closer and closer. His cheeks are a little red, water drips down from his hair, single droplets rolling down his cheeks and his lips. 

“And what, snatch me up?” He chuckles, licking his lips. 

“Mhmm, maybe monsters love guys with uh that,” you giggle, pointing to his chest, “I thought you hated chest hair, Stevie.”

You always told him to stop shaving it, you always wanted to see what it would look like on him.

His cheeks heat up and he doesn’t know whether it’s because of your words, the nickname or the closeness of your body. 

“I’m trying new things,” he shrugs. 

New things. He is trying new things. He tried new things when he dated girls before you, new hairstyles, new clothes, new music. He only ever tried new things when he was interested in someone and thought that he had to change – be better, look better. 

“L-Like what?”

Your eyes flash with something that he struggles to read.  

“For girls you mean?” You ask before he can even respond to your first question. You remember what Robin told you the first time you visited them at Scoops Ahoy. “A-Are you– do you have someone?” You ask before you can even stop those words from spilling. 

“What?” He asks, shaking his head at you. 

“Nothing,” you mumble, “forget it.” Why do you even care? 

This is none of your business. He can do whatever he wants. He can flirt as much as he wants. He can go on dates. He can have flings. He can have girlfriends. 

You tear your eyes away from him, desperately wanting to get away when you feel your cheeks heating up but just as you’re about to swim back, you notice how loose your bikini top is suddenly feeling. You raise your hand, placing it on your chest, “shit,” you mumble when you realize that the knot came undone. 

“W-What’s wrong?” Steve asks as he snaps out of his thoughts. 

“M-My stupid bikini – the knot–”

He realizes what happened when he notices your hand on your chest as you keep your other arm stretched out so you stay afloat. 

“Can you help me?” You ask with big eyes. 

His heart melts at the tone in your voice and the look in your eyes. 

“Of course,” he whispers, swimming towards you.

This isn’t ideal but, he touched you before, he had seen you naked before, it won’t be weird or foreign for him to do it. 

He swims behind you and he stares at your bare back for a moment, swallowing nervously. He takes in a shaky breath and reaches out to gather your wet hair, he brushes it to the side. 

A shiver runs down your spine when you feel his touch for the first time again. His calloused fingers touching your bare skin. You press your lips together, and close your eyes. 

He moves closer than he has to, he can’t help it. He reaches for the strings of your top and he starts tying the knot, slowly. He can feel the goosebumps on your skin and he can’t help but wonder if it’s because of the cold water or if it’s because of his touch – he hopes that it’s because of his touch. 

He looks at your soft skin, wondering what it would be like to feel it on his again. He wonders what it would feel like to touch you, to have your body pressed against his. He looks at your shoulder, wishing that he could lean down and press his lips against it, pressing kisses up to your neck. His heart flutters just at the thought of it. 

He is close, so close. 

His fingers brush against your spine and your breath hitches in your throat. He heard it. 

His touch feels so different from the way it used to feel. It’s soft, gentle. Something that it never used to be. He is careful with you, he never was, not when you were still his. 

You wonder if he ever thought that you looked beautiful. 

You wonder if he ever craved you the way you craved him after he left. 

Your heart starts racing the longer you feel his hands on your skin. Hands that used to be so rough on your body are now so light and caring, it makes you nervous. His hands feel familiar yet so strange and foreign. 

Is he touching someone else with those hands now?

“There’s no one else.” He says as though he could read your mind.

For a moment, you stop breathing.

“There’s only one girl for me,” he whispers as he puts his hand on your shoulder, turning you around carefully so he can see you, so he can look into your eyes. 

He felt the way you reacted to his touch. He heard the sadness and the jealousy in your voice when you had asked him those questions. He can see the look in your eyes. 

There is still a chance. 

There is still a chance, right?

next chapter

-

tagging friends and mutuals

@mysticmunson @taintedcigs @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @corrodedseraphine @succubusmunson @trashmouth-richie @take-everything-you-can @xxhellfirebunnyxx @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @chrissymjstan

[moonlightspencie]

ahh hi, i just read through your master list youre so talented!

wondering if dean winchester and enemies to lovers? with angst but also a happy ending but also like shouting confessions and stuff but also like dean is like patching up reader or maybe not shouting but like stuff? protective? abuhwfc idek what im saying but yes tysm <3 have a good day

awww thanks so much! this was fun to write, i looooove writing dean

pairing: dean winchester x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of injuries!

——————————

“What the hell were you thinking?” Dean snapped at you for the fifth time since you’d gotten in the car with him.

You huffed a sigh, still holding onto your leg in what was most definitely not a small amount of pain.

“I get it, Winchester, you’re pissed. Are you done bitching at me yet?”

“No, I’m not!” He let out a breath in annoyance, glancing sideways at you as he drove. “Running in without me was… was freaking stupid. You could’ve gotten killed.”

“I didn’t.”

“But you could have, damn it! I should’ve never agreed to bring you along.”

“I got the job done.”

“Barely.”

“Screw you.”

He opened his mouth to speak again, his chest heaving in anger as he glared at you again. He decided on a simple shake of the head as he tore through town to get to the motel.

As soon as he pulled in, he practically dragged you out of the car, carrying you into his room and setting you on the bed. You winced.

“Watch it. Kind of got a bullet wound here.”

You half expected Dean to snap something snarky back at you, but all he did was glance at you with his brows furrowed as he hurried around the room.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m trying to get said bullet out of that hole in your leg.”

You sighed softly, then started trying to gingerly pull your jeans off without further irritating your thigh.

“Damn it,” you cursed under your breath.

Dean turned quickly at that. “What?”

You merely shook your head, continuing to try and pull off your pants.

“Usually someone will at least try to flirt before they strip for me.”

“Shut up,” you grumble back, trying to hide a small smile.

He sat on the bed next to you, setting down his first aid supplies to help you get your pants the rest of the way off.

“Usually a guy will at least buy me dinner before taking off my pants,” you quip back at him.

“Shut up,” he smirked a little. Then he cleared his face. “You’re an idiot. You could’ve been killed tonight.”

“So you’ve said.”

“I’m serious,” he said, finally freeing you from your jeans with minimal jostling. “You acted like… like…”

“Yeah, yeah. I was stupid. I get it.”

He huffed again, shaking his head as he started prodding softly at your leg.

“Ouch,” you muttered softly, face scrunched in pain.

“I know. Sorry.”

“S’fine. Just pull it out.”

“I’ve been known to be pretty good at that,” he said noncommittally, slowly pulling the bullet out with a pair of thin tweezers.

You winced softly, but stayed mostly quiet as he worked.

“Attagirl,” he patted your knee gently. “Alright, we’re gonna have to stitch this up.”

“Damn it,” you groan, head falling back against his pillow.

“That’s why you don’t run off without me.”

“Shut it.”

“Just saying.”

“Well, don’t. I won’t hesitate to kick your ass.”

He snorted once, a tiny smirk on his face. You frowned, looking at him.

“What?”

He shrugged. “You sound like Bobby sometimes. I always forget you lived with him for a couple years as a kid.”

You hummed once. “Yeah. He acted like he hated it, but he was a pretty great foster dad for the time.”

“He was a great… well, everything.” He cleaned around the wound, handing you a bottle of some dark colored liquor. “Drink.”

You complied immediately, knowing you’d need a little something to take the edge off that inevitable pain. He took the bottle back, pouring a little on the wound to make sure it was sterilized on the outside.

“Ow!”

“It’s only gonna get worse.”

You scoff. “Not exactly comforting, Dean.”

“Not meant to be.”

You braced yourself as he started stitching you up, trying to focus on literally anything else until he finally finished. You let out a heavy breath.

“Good. You’re fine, see?” Dean said, looking at you expectantly.

You sighed, opening your eyes and glancing at your leg. It wasn’t half bad for some hunter stitches. You’d definitely had worse. You nodded a little at his work.

“Yeah. Good.”

“Good,” he repeated again, then placed the bandage on it. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

“I know.”

He looked at you for a moment. “I’m serious. I wish I hadn’t brought you.”

“I get it. But…”

“No buts about it. If we ever work together on anything again, and I mean ever, you’ll do as I say. Got it?”

You rolled your eyes. “Please. You’re not my dad or my boyfriend, and even if you were, I still wouldn’t take orders from you. Get a grip.”

“You almost got killed,” he repeated.

“I heard that the first fifty times, Winchester. But you almost get— you know what? No. You have gotten killed. More than once! You can’t say that shit to me!”

“I—” he started, but obviously didn’t really know what to say to that. He hummed once in thought. “Well… well, that’s different.”

“No it isn’t.”

“I don’t have to deal with losing me if I get killed!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I just… it’s different. If it’s you, then,” he sighed, running a hand over his face. “If it’s you, or if it’s Sam, or anyone else, I’m left here to know that it’s probably my fault it happened. I have to deal with it if you die and I can’t deal with it!”

“Oh, come on, you’ve always hated me. You’d live.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You think I’m annoying at the very least!”

“Yeah, cause you are! But I don’t want you to die!”

“How sweet,” you deadpan.

“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean. I don’t… I couldn’t…”

“What?”

“I like you! Alright?! Is that what you want to hear?”

“No you don’t. You hardly tolerate me.”

“Because you’re too damn independent and it freaks me the hell out!” he snaps again. “I don’t want to like you because that means I’ll fall for you and that means if you die, I’ll… I’ll…”

You groan in irritation.

“Cut it out. I’m trying to tell you I want you!”

You scoff. “Excuse me?”

“I want you! Always have! You got any clue how many times Bobby smacked me when he caught me checking you out?”

You stared at him for a moment in shock, then burst out laughing. He scrunched up his face in confusion, staring at you. He swallowed.

“Quit— quit laughing.”

“You’re serious?!”

“Yes, I’m serious. You don’t have to be a dick about it.”

You laughed again. “Oh my god! You’re being a bitch because you have a crush on me? What, are you 13?”

He rolled his eyes. “This is why I can’t stand you.”

“Apparently you can’t stand me because you like me too much,” you laugh.

“You— You know…” he tried, but was obviously too flustered to speak properly.

He ran through options in his head, but one sounded way more fun than the others. He suddenly leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. That shut you up quick.

“Mm,” you mumbled against his lips, kissing him back.

He could be a douche, but he was also super hot. Not to mention, he was a total sweetheart when he wasn’t determined to be an asshole. Like now. He pulled away, breathing heavier.

“Don’t laugh at me again. It’s mean,” he muttered softly.

“Don’t confess to a little crush like that again and I won’t. Next time you wanna confess, just kiss me instead. Much more effective.”

“Will do,” he breathed out, leaning in again.

[bloodyshadow1]

I get people being sympathetic to the Rat grinders, I really do, but the way people will out right lie about canon to make the Bad Kids the villains. The Rat Grinders are kids, they're being groomed by charismatic and dangerous teachers who they trusted, they're corrupted by rage so they're not thinking straight. At the end of the day, that makes them cultists, pitiable and sympathetic, but still villains who are perfectly willing to create a hell on earth for the plan.

I've seen posts condemning the bad kids for killing the rat grinders, I've seen posts calling the Bad Kids bullies this season, I've seen posts that blame the Bad Kids for the whole thing saying the rat grinders are just kids who are being tricked. It's all bullshit, whatever your headcanons, whatever your feelings on the Rat Grinders, they're not the good guys here and are very much the villains this season.

The bad kids killed the 3 of the rat grinders this fight, Ivy, Oisin, and Ruben. No, they didn't stop to try and reach out to them, to try and make them see the light. The Rat Grinders are trying to condemn a whole town to become the domain of a the new god of rage and murder a goddess to usurp her domain. They are high level with the capacity to cast 9th level spells regardless of their hp, with two epic level pc's with super abilities that normal class features don't cover. If the Bad Kids hesitated they would be dead, they knew that, the Rat grinders tried to murder them little over an hour ago. They've hated the bad kids for years and now decided to make their vendetta known, they fucked around and found out.

Which leads me to my second point, the Bad Kids are not bullying the Rat grinders. They're not pleasant to the rat grinders, but you don't have to be nice to the people who hate you. Other than Fig, who I will admit was messed up with how she treated Ruben this year, but also the Rat Grinders did something similar, they were just bad at it, the Bad Kids mostly ignored the Rat grinders. The worst thing the other bad Kids do to the Rat Grinders is make fun of Kipperlily's name, that's it. They don't even do it in front of other students, unless they legitimately forget her name, other than that it's only in front of each other or not other students like Alewyn or Jawbone. It's not great, but that is literally all they have done.

The Rat grinders however, have done all they could to make themselves enemies of the Bad Kids. Ivy was a mean racist bitch who helped steal the cloudrider engine and place pingpong balls all over seacaster manor for the plan. Ruben tried to get the bad kids to take drugs knowing it would get them in trouble. He intentionally had frosty fair held at Gorgug's home to corrupt it, putting not only Gorgug's family in danger but countless other people. Sure Jace had a hand in that, but at best Ruben was an accomplice. Buddy was a smug creep who vandalized Kristen's locker, threatened her brother, and demeaned her and her goddess, without being corrupted by rage. Mary Ann legitimately didn't do anything wrong this season she was just there and did her best on the field as she was supposed to (not even saying this as a joke, she has literally done nothing bad on screen so it's hard to judge her like the rest). But Oisin tried to honey pot Adaine the first week of school, stole the cloudrider engine and the pingpong ball trap, and sent a whole pack of dragons on them to murder them and hundreds of other kids. Kipperlily has been goading the bad kids since the first day of school, she has tried every dirty trick to try and win. She has murdered people, not even people affiliated with the bad kids, but people like Buddy who was on her side, she's tried to murder the bad kids or at least make sure it's harder for them to come back to life if they die, she's stolen from them, she's tried to kill them, she's done everything bad the fans have accused the bad kids of but worse.

And that's just the Rat Grinder's individually. Why are the Bad Kids monsters for killing dangerous people who have tried to kill them, but the Rat Grinders aren't? The Rat Grinders literally tried to commit mass murder of their school a little more than an hour. 500 students of the Aguefort adventuring academy were in Seacaster manor when it was brought into the sky and beset by dragons. 500 innocent bystanders, almost all children, half of them younger than both parties.

I'll get to the rage stars in another post, but I just want to finish this off with, the Rat Grinders are kids, kids who are being groomed by evil men and corrupted by magic. But the Bad Kids are just kids too. They're kids who have been specifically targeted by the rat grinders. The rat grinders started this feud, the Bad Kids retaliated and were better at it. If you're going to take a shot at the king you better not miss, and the rat grinders have been missing their shots this whole season. I don't get why people are blaming the bad kids for trying to save the world but it pisses me off. I apologize for the rant but the tag is for everyone

[riki-riks-chick]

heeseung who loves to club x antisocial reader? i loved ur Jennifer body inspired fic !!

Overwhelmed ┃L.HS

club-bf!heeseung x antisocial-gf!reader

yn doesn't like to club but tries her hardest not spoil her bf's fun.

cw: neutral/fluff?, kisses, anxiety, social anxiety, reader likes to stay home, low social battery, heeseung loves clubbing, supportive and loving bf hee.

wdct: 1.2k

thanks for the request. I'm glad you liked Sunshine and Rain! ♡

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Third Person POV~

"Princess, I promise it's just for tonight.. Tomorrow we can stay in all day and cuddle and watch your favorite movies.. Okay?" It took some hard convincing, but eventually you agree to go out with him tonight.

He preferred taking you with him over leaving you home late at night. He was always worried something would happen to you when he wasn't home.

As soon as he got done kissing and hugging you out of gratitude, you went upstairs to get ready, doing you hair and makeup before putting on one of your club-appropriate dresses. You usually never wore them because you didn't like clubbing, but Heeseung bought you a few for when you went out with him.

You decided to wear black, wanting to be less noticeable. Plus it matched Heeseung's outfit that was mostly black.

You put on the heels you so hated wearing. And as a final touch, you put on your leather jacket that matched Heeseung's.

Once finally finishing getting ready, you head back down stairs, where Heeseung is waiting patiently by the door, back against the wall as he states at his phone. He glances up at you when he hears your heels click against the floor.

"You look so pretty, princess.." He smiles, leaning down kiss your cheek. "Let's go, hm?"

Two hours later, you're sitting in one of Heeseung's favorite bars, surrounded by all of his closest friends and some of their girlfriends.

They decide to play truth or drink, and you glance at Heeseung worriedly.

He knows you hate drinking games, and usually he ends up drinking for you, but you didn't want that to happen tonight.

The game progressed and the first time it landed on you, his friend Jongseong had asked you the question. "How often do you and Heeseung fuck?" You immediately glanced towards Heeseung, who was already preparing to take the shot Jaeyun poured for you.

Before he could grab it, you picked it up, downing the shot before setting the glass down. Honestly, you hated drinking.. It's not fun, and the aftermath is even worse. That's why Heeseung usually takes the shots for you whenever you play drinking games with his friends.

Eventually they moved on to playing another game, but you decided to exclude yourself, staring at your phone, sipping on whatever non alcoholic drink Heeseung had ordered for you. You'd been here two hours and it's going on three. When you left the house it was already 9pm, and now it's almost midnight and you're still here.

And Heeseung seems to be having fun, doing what he likes, joking with his friends.. But you're just out of it at this point.

And ultimately, he notices the bored expression on your face, the pout in your lips. It's adorable. "Are you doing okay?.." He whispers in your ear, caressing your thigh beneath the table as you nod. "I'm okay..."

He can tell you're trying not to drag his mood down, but he wants to find ways for you both to have fun even though you're not a fan of clubbing. So he gets up, ignoring his friends' questions as he offers you his hand.

"What?.." You question softly as he pulls you out of your seat, dragging you to the dance floor. So many people are dancing, pressed hotly into one big clump of bodies.

You find yourself weaving into the sea of moving limbs and bodies as Heeseung pulls you against him, his hands on your hips as he moves you to the music.

You stare up at him, hands resting on his shoulders. He leans down to kiss you gently before leaning in towards your ear. "Are you overwhelmed?.."

His tone is gentle, hands rubbing circles into your hips as you shake your head. He can tell you're lying. "Love.. If you wanna go home, we can leave."

You protest. "I don't wanna spoil your fun. Let's just go back to the table..." You mumble, your tone slightly pleading, but he presses anyway. "Come on, let's grab your stuff.. We can just leave."

Somewhere along the lines of listening to Heeseung, the music, and the loud yelling around you, your heart starts racing. It's hard to breathe, and you're speaking in your head, but the words aren't really coming out.

You react by pulling away from Heeseung and rushing towards the exit of the club. The second the cool night air hit your lungs, you felt so much better. You hadn't realized how overstimulated you really were, being cramped inside of the bar. The feeling you just experienced was terrible.

You leaned against the wall, breathing gently to steady yourself, it's not long before a panicked Heeseung comes running over to you, holding your jacket and your clutch.

"Are you alright, princess?.." His eyes show pure worry as he cups your cheek. You nod. "I'm okay now.. I got overwhelmed.. I'm sorry.." You apologize and he shakes his head. "No, I'm sorry.. I should've took you home the second I realized you weren't feeling it.."

You can tell he's thinking too hard about everything so you cup his cheeks, giving him a kiss. "I'm okay.. I promise.."

He nods, kissing you again before helping you slip your jacket back on. "Do you wanna go home?.." He asks as you nod. "But only if you're ready.. You seemed to be having fun with them.."

He shakes his head, leading you back towards the spot where the car is parked. "Let's get you home, okay?.."

When you finally get home, you immediately take off the uncomfortable heels, glad to be four inches shorter again. Your jacket is littering the floor as well, clutch set down terribly.

Heeseung hangs your coat on the rack, moving your heels to stand neatly by the door before taking off his own shoes and following you upstairs.

"Heeseung?.." You call as he hums in response. "Do your friends ever call me lame for making you leave early?.." You question as he shakes his head. "Princess.. I know you're not the party type, and they know it too.. But when I go without you, they actually do miss you.. As much as you loathe going, they think you're pretty fun.."

You're shocked at his words. "Really?.. They think I'm fun?" You ask as he nods. "Of course.. It's okay that your social battery dies a little faster than others' because I promise you, if you're ever uncomfortable, we can leave.."

You nod in understanding, smiling at Heeseung. "I wish I was as social as you.. That way we could have more fun together.." At your words, he cups your chin, tilting your head upwards. "I always have fun with you.. You don't have to wish to be something you're not.. Okay?" He kisses you, pulling away with a smile as he kisses your forehead.

"Now.. Let's get take a nice hot shower and then we can make some snacks and watch a movie.."

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[slimyalienfreak]

Headcanons for Pico hanging out with reader while they're both drunk/high? He'd be a fun boyfriend to get fucked up with.

High & Drunk HC’s With Pico

Hey there! Thanks for the ask!

Admittedly I wrote this without much sleep. I decided to pull an all nighter because of my shitty sleep schedule so please excuse any mistakes. ~ Blaze/Dawn

Pronouns: Not Mentioned

Warning: ⚠️Smoking/Drugs + Drinking/Alcohol⚠️

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Pico

Proofread: ❌

Credits: Art By FNF Crew + Banner By hwmnwo (Edited by me) On Pinterest

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- When it comes wanting to either smoke or drink I feel like he’s more of a smoker than a drinker. Not that he doesn’t drink it’s just that if you gave him the option to either smoke a joint or jug down some vodka he’s choosing the first option. Plus as I mentioned in my previous fic about him he canonically smokes and ‘chokes down in large quantities’ (that’s what phantom arcade said) so it kind of makes sense. Also I like to think he absolutely hates hangovers. Minor or severe he just can’t handle them. Having a massive headache, throwing up what you had the previous night, every part of your body aching. He hates it. He dealt with worse shit and he was able to handle that but not this. So he would rather smoke to avoid that.

- Again like in my previous fic of him he literally just calls you up and asks if you want to smoke or drink. Sometimes he doesn't bother calling you, he just shows up. Like one minute you're alone then you hear your doorknob rustle before Pico just bursts in with either weed or alcohol in hand saying he wants to hang out. Obviously you agreed because one he was already here and two you had nothing better to do so you just agreed.

- Now for what he’s like when he’s high:

- I feel like it might take a little bit for him to get high. Only because he’s been somewhat consistent with it back in Pico School. I also think it depends on what type of drugs he’s using. He prefers to use at least a few blunts compared to other things like edibles. Not that he doesn’t like it, he does. He likes to see how he can put weed in his food but for him at least it takes longer to hit. He wants it to hit as soon as possible. I think this mostly stems from him trying to calm himself down especially after what happened back at school.

- I bet Pico would be the type of person to just zone out while high with a shit eating grin on his face. The smallest things make him laugh. Like I said, the reason why he gets high is because he needs to destress so the whole point is that he’s getting to that relaxation point and not an anxious point. He just zones out. The type of conversations the two of you have while high is very questionable but the two of you don’t do anything about it.

- You don’t really do anything else when both you and him are smoking. Mostly just watch whatever the hell is on tv and munching on some shit completely tripping on whatever the two of you took.

- As for when he gets drunk:

- As I said before he prefers to get high then drunk so you don’t really see him get drunk often but he does do it. I feel like he’s kind of a heavy weight despite not drinking often. I feel like he doesn't like sweet drinks/cocktails. I just don’t see him drinking anything sweet. He just downs alcohols like vodka.

- I don’t why but I’d like to think he’d be an emotional drunk. Why? Because it’s funny or me just being delusional. Seeing him and his usual personality becoming an emotional mess is just funny to me. I also like to think he’d be kind of clingy especially around you. Sobbing into your shoulder while telling you how much he loves and appreciates you. While you on the other end have to comfort him telling him you know and appreciate him as well.

- I also like to think he’d be kind of reckless while drunk as well. I think it mostly stems from him being emotional. He just so hyped up that he just can’t stay still so he just goes around doing random shit. It’s like trying to look after a child with how he acts. It’s even worse when both of you are drunk. He just encourages you to join in and with you also being drunk and not making that great of decisions you enable it. Sometimes you two find yourself covered in bruises causing you two to think how the hell you got them/what the hell the two of you did.

- Though he kind of enjoys the moment of being drunk as I mentioned he absolutely hates the hangover part. He just doesn’t like the feeling of every part of his body hurting while trying not to throw up, sometimes failing to do so. He constantly complains about the smallest things while hungover but despite this if you're also hungover he does still try to comfort you. Patting your back telling you it’s alright while throwing up himself. He ain’t letting it stop him to make sure you're alright.

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