#The slurs and swearing she uses against me are just awful she's such an awful person | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

doomhands-jr · 6 months ago

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The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 4

Noah Sebastian X Reader

Noah is a delinquent with a lot of anger at the church. You're a pastor's daughter plagued by moral perfectionism, charged with overseeing the community service he's been sentenced to complete. You've never encountered true temptation before. How will you fare up against Noah, who not only isn't bound by the same rules of purity as you, but actively scoffs at them?

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Warnings: Blow job, drug use, swearing, angst, noah getting humbled

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Banner by @flowerynerds

________

“Fuck,” Noah whispered. “Just like that.”

Noah couldn’t remember who was sucking his dick. He could barely remember how he got upstairs. He thought her name might begin with an S? Maybe? But her mouth was so warm and inviting. And wet. And when she hummed, it vibrated.

His head lolled to the side. Had the couch always been this soft?

She pulled off him with a “pop” and stroked his shaft a few times.

“Mmmm,” he hummed, letting out a soft giggle and allowing his lids to close.

He’d have to ask Jolly what that pill was. He wanted to feel like this all the time.

“You like that?” the girl asked. What the fuck was her name? Sarah? No… Savannah? Something like that. She looked up at him and he didn’t think he’d ever seen a face more vibrant or beautiful than hers.

Except for maybe yours. But he didn’t want to think about that, because it was bringing down his vibe, and he had someone right in front of him who was so, so beautiful, and whose mouth was the warmest mouth he’d ever felt in his life.

“Yeah,” he said, marveling at the tingling sensation in his fingertips as he rubbed them together, paying special attention to the calluses on his fingers. She squeezed his dick again and his focus was brought back to her. “Do it again please?”

She enveloped the head of his dick in her mouth once more. He didn’t think she could get a tighter seal around him. His eyes rolled back. Noah was certain if she kept up at this rate, she’d rid him of whatever negative energy dwelled in his body, and he’d walk away an enlightened man.

“You’re so fuckin’ warm,” he muttered, noticing for the first time that his own voice carried many layers to it. He hummed out a note, feeling his vocal folds vibrate with such a pleasant intensity that he forgot all about the woman whose mouth he was currently in and began practicing his vocal warmups. He could hear his voice getting better in real time.

“They’re right,” he giggled between warmups.. “I should do my vocal exercises more. These are great.”

The woman said something that Noah didn’t catch, but his awareness was once again brought to his dick, and this time, his focus was locked in. All the sudden, he was on a sensation train that was approaching its crescendo. When it did, Noah’s body blasted into a liminal space, where he was met with a wave of warm, glowing light.

Was he crying? He thought he might have been crying, but he didn’t know what about. Surely it was nothing sad, because no sadness could exist here. He was wrapped in pure love and light.

“It’s like heaven,” he slurred.

And then his body slipped away and he was nothing more than divine consciousness, floating in the ether.

_____________

“Noah!”

Someone was shooting off fireworks in the hallway.

No, that wouldn’t make sense.

Someone was knocking on the door. His eyelids were too heavy for him to lift.

“Noah, wake up, man.”

He vaguely registered the sound of the door opening. “Aw, gross! Get your pasty ass off Jolly’s couch.”

Noah groaned, feeling for the waistband of his boxers, realizing they were still pulled down around his ankles.

“What happened?” he rasped out. His throat was beyond dry. His head pounded with every pulse.

“You tell me. Last thing I remember is you disappearing with that Tiffany chick.”

Noah’s eyes flew open. “Tiffany?” He scrubbed a palm over his face. That girl had been after him for months. Showed up to every party and clung to him like a barnacle on the side of a boat. Always interjected herself into conversations and has cockblocked him on more than one occasion. Despite actively ignoring her when she’s around, she never took the hint to leave him alone.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Why did you let me go upstairs with her?” he asked, finally looking up to see Ruffilo standing above him with his hands on his hips, looking very much like a disappointed mother.

“It’s not my job to babysit you, dude. Plus, you insisted it was fine.”

Noah rolled over and clenched his throat to stop himself from hurling.

“How much did I drink?” he rasped out.

“I don’t know. But whatever you took clearly didn’t mix well with it.”

“No shit,” he said, rolling off the couch. His knees smacked against the hardwood floor, the impact ricocheting up to his head, forcing him into a wince.

“Can you please put some pants on?” his friend said, rolling his eyes as he turned his back toward Noah.

With great effort, Noah hoisted himself off the floor and into a semi-standing position so he could pull his boxers and jeans back up.

“My eyes are killing me,” he croaked.

“Yeah, no shit dude. You still have those weird-ass things in.”

Noah stumbled across the hall to the bathroom, the acrid feeling of bile crawled its way up his chest, intensifying the closer he got. He threw the toilet lid and seat back, knees hitting tile as he curled over the lip of the bowl to vomit the remainder of last night’s drinks.

His head pounded, every heave forcing blood up into his face, the vessels in his eyes straining under the pressure.

“Help me get these out,” he sputtered between heaving breaths, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He rolled over to lean his back against the vanity unit, hands falling into his lap as he worked to catch his breath.

“Let me see,” Ruffilo sighed cupping his chin with one hand to tilt it back into the light. He took care to wash his hands before he made any attempt to touch the massive black contacts that spanned the entirety of his friend’s eyes.

“Ow, fuck!” Noah shouted, causing his head to ache with his own volume. “Don’t use your nail, asshole!”

“Sorry dude,” his friend said, not an ounce of sympathy in his tone. “This shit’s hard to do. Hold still.”

With careful precision, Nick maneuvered the large disc around until he found purchase on it. Pinching it between his thumb and forefinger, he gently peeled it out to reveal Noah’s bloodshot eyes.. After doing the same with the second, he tossed both in the trash, then stood to wash his hands once more. “Damn,” said Noah. “I liked those. I wanted to use them for more shows.”

“We’ll get you new ones,” said Nick. He grabbed an empty Solo cup on the sink counter, rinsing it out before filling it with cool tap water. He handed it to Noah before lowering himself to the ground, sighing as he leaned against the opposite wall. “Sip slowly, or you’ll throw up again.” Gingerly, Noah raised the cup to his lips.

Ruffilo was not easily affected by the actions of others. In fact, he had a calming disposition that set many at ease. But at that moment, Noah could feel his friend’s gaze burning a hole into him. He stared at the rim of his cup, the acrid feeling returning as he did everything to avoid looking at Nick.

“You okay, man?” The pity in his friend’s tone sat like a brick in Noah’s gut.“I’ve never seen you get that fucked up before. What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You can’t be doing that shit,” Nick said, crossing his arms over his chest and clicking his tongue against his teeth.. “Do you even know what you took?”

Noah paused for a moment. Scenes from the previous night flashed through his memory: the red lump on your cheekbone, the slight gasp that left your lungs when he parted your legs, the absence of your warmth after you left.

“No,” Noah rasped out, leaning his head back against the counter and closing his eyes.

“That’s not like you, man.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on,” he sighed, grabbing Noah under the arm to lift him off the floor. “Let’s get you home and in bed.”

“Thanks,” said Noah. He brought his hand up to comb his fingers through his hair and found the demon horns still on his head. A bitter taste coated his tongue and he ripped them off, chucking them in the trash.

It took a monumental effort for Noah to stagger the six blocks to his house. The sun was far too bright and the traffic was much too loud. Even with Ruffilo helping him, he struggled to keep his balance and had to pause halfway through to vomit into a set of bushes lining the street.

He didn't know when he fell asleep. One moment, he was collapsing onto his bed, and the next, he woke to the sound of something hitting his nightstand. On a tray sat a mug of coffee, scrambled eggs and toast, with two painkillers on a napkin. Ruffilo was already on his way out the door when Noah spoke.

“Thanks man,” He managed to mutter. “I owe you one.”

“This is done on the condition that we talk about it when you’re ready.”

Noah sighed, jaw clenching. “I know. Just not today.”

________

Halfway through Noah’s day-long hangover nap, he was woken up by another knocking. This time, when he opened his eyes, he found none other than the drummer of his band looking like the cat that caught the canary.

Nick sidled past him, inviting himself into Noah’s room, tossing a wad of cash down onto Noah’s bed before turning to face him.

“Here you go, killer. You earned it.”

“What are you talking about?” Noah muttered, consciousness slowly growing clearer as he struggled to wake up. His head felt like it was in a vise.

“I saw you and the virgin Mary go into your studio last night. When she came back out, she looked absolutely wrecked,” he said, snickering to himself. He shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t know how you did it, but damn. I never thought that chick would put out. Her friend was a pretty good consolation prize though, I have to say.”

Noah grabbed the wad of cash and threw it violently back at his friend.

“Whoa,” Nick said, head pulling back defensively. “What was that for?”

“Man, fuck off. I told you I wasn’t part of that.”

“You still won,” said Nick with a shrug. “I’m a man of my word. Should have tried a little harder with her last night, but her friend was practically beggin’ for it the whole time.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Noah was aware that he should exit this conversation. But in the moment, his stomach rolled with a heavy mixture of shame and anger that he couldn’t digest, so he spat it at Nick.

“You’re a fucking bottom feeder, man.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Nick bit back, unflinching as if he’d been waiting. “Don’t sit there on your high fuckin’ horse, acting like you’re better than everyone when you did the same thing to Tiffany, knowing how down bad she is for you. Grow a spine and reject the girl so she can move on.”

Noah squeezed his eyes together and rubbed his temples.

He knew he’d run out of defenses, and hated that Nick was right, but his brain had only just started thawing out from the onslaught of chemicals he’d fed it, and the last thing he needed was a lecture.

“Man, just get out. I’m not in the mood, okay?”

“Clearly, since you’re fucking being a little bitch today.” His eyebrows and jaw were hard set, but when Noah finally locked on to his stare, Nick must have seen the defeat in his eyes, because he began to soften.

“Get some sleep, man. We’ll talk about it later.”

“Thanks.”

__________________

Normally, Noah didn’t mind his job at the factory too much. It was repetitive, which was boring, but also regulating. It allowed him to move on autopilot while he wrote music in his head.

Today though, as the remnants of his headache clung to his periphery - he was Sisyphus, and the lathe was his boulder.

Worse though, whatever he had taken at the party had dumped all the serotonin and dopamine from his system, and there was nothing left to get him through the day.

“This,” he muttered to himself, barely audible over the whirring of the machines surrounding him, “this is why I don’t do drugs.”

He’d known this would happen even before he took them, but at the time he didn’t care. He was focused on escaping from the reality of his situation. It worked for the night, until that reality came back with a vengeance.

His confidence was shaken. He’d been so sure that you wanted him in that moment. He’d have bet all the cash Nick had tried to throw at him that you wanted him. But when you were an inch away, just barely in his grasp, you shot him down and left. And here he was, tearing his hair out because he could not, for the life of him, figure out why.

Maybe you just couldn't accept his feelings about religion. Your beliefs were so important to you, and he wouldn’t be surprised if it was something you just couldn’t get past. Like you’d mentioned earlier that night, the whole evening was out of your comfort zone, you were overwhelmed by it all. Perhaps you just weren’t ready.

But maybe he was overthinking everything. Maybe inviting you into his world was a bad decision.

No God. No religion.

Just bad, bad decisions.

He scrawled the words into the margins of the notebook used to write down measurements for whatever the fuck parts he had to check for inaccuracies. For the rest of the day, the words ran through his head over and over again like a mantra, following the rhythmic clunk of the factory machines. He fished the silver ring out of his pocket and fidgeted with it for the hundredth time since you left the studio. It barely fit past the first knuckle on his pinky finger, but every time he touched it, it felt a little easier to breathe.

______________

“So, I feel like I owe you an apology,” he said, taking a sip from his coffee. “Several apologies, actually.”

“Okay,” Tiffany said, sitting across from him at the small bistro table in the corner of the local coffee shop Noah frequented.

His stomach clenched. He’d been nervous for the last few days leading up to this conversation, but it was time for him to stop being a coward and settle the matter.

Tiffany was not an unattractive woman. She had long blonde hair that she wore in loose waves. She was on the thicker side, which Noah liked. He could see himself being attracted to her if their personalities meshed.

Tiffany’s fatal flaw was that she tried too hard. Noah preferred to do the chasing. And he probably wouldn’t have ended up chasing after her regardless, and so he understood that she felt the need to chase after him if she liked him, but he had no inkling of feelings for her.

“First, I wanted to apologize for last Saturday. I wasn’t in the best state of mind, and I shouldn’t have invited you upstairs.”

“Yeah,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her. “That became clear when you started doing vocal warmups mid-blowjob.”

Noah snorted into his coffee. He forgot about that.

“I’m sorry,” he said, unable to bite back his grin.

Her tough façade cracked into a smile. “No worries. In hindsight, it’s pretty funny.”

“Okay, so question then,” He shifted in his seat, leaning forward to place his elbows on the table. “If you knew I wasn’t sober, why did you continue?”

“I didn’t,” she said. “As soon as I realized you weren’t right, I stopped.”

Noah looked at her, taken aback. “You left?”

She nodded.

“You mean I didn’t…I could have swore…,” he trailed off.

“Don’t get me wrong. I was excited about the idea of hooking up with you, but not like that.”

Noah looked at Tiffany with a newfound respect. Perhaps he had misjudged her.

“Secondly,” he continued, “I wanted to apologize for never making my intentions clear. I feel like I led you on and allowed you to have hope because I was afraid of confrontation. That wasn’t cool of me. I should have told you from the beginning that I wasn’t interested.”

“Ouch,” she said, wincing slightly, “but thanks.”

He shook his head. “Why are you thanking me?”

“I don’t know,” she said, drumming her fingers on the table.. “You probably don’t deserve it, but honestly I’d rather you be straightforward with me so I can actually move on. It takes a lot of energy to walk away from something you want if you still think there might be a little hope. I probably would have wasted a lot of time.”

His stomach began to feel the weight of his actions. Tiffany’s only crime was not deciphering the vague signals he’d given her, and yet he’d treated her like a pariah, going so far as to badmouth her to his bandmates. And for what? Because she refused to give up hope until she received a solid answer?

He’d been an even bigger asshole than he’d realized.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”

Tiffany looked at Noah with a face that hinted at pity. Perhaps she saw the inner battle he was having with himself.

“Why did you take me upstairs?” she asked.

Noah felt like he owed her the truth. He didn’t have romantic feelings for Tiffany, but he did like her. And there was something about her that made him want to trust her. Perhaps it was how she’d prioritized his consent, despite her feelings for him. Or maybe the way she’d responded to him when he told her he wasn’t interested took the edge off his nervous system. He didn’t realize how much he enjoyed that feeling.

Noah launched into the story, telling Tiffany about how you’d met, your differences in beliefs, how you’d wound up at that party, what happened during the set, and how it had played out in the studio afterwards.

Once he finished his retelling, Tiffany narrowed her eyes at him.

“Do you always react so poorly when you get rejected?”

“What do you mean?” asked Noah.

“Like, after a girl rejects you, do you binge drink and take unknown drugs and hook up with other people? Is that how you handle it every time?”

Noah shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Wait. Is this your first time being rejected?” she asked in disbelief.

He took another sip of his coffee, ran his tongue along the top row of his teeth, and then gave the tiniest of nods.

Without hesitation, Tiffany burst out laughing.

“I’m so sorry,” she rushed to clarify, holding her hands in front of her as if to pause the conversation. “This is so inappropriate and I shouldn’t be laughing. Forgive me.”

She didn’t stop laughing despite her apology.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll wait,” Noah said, snark creeping into his voice.

“This feels really great to hear, honestly. I know it sucks for you, but I’m absolutely loving it.”

“Can you not rub it in my face, please?” he asked.

Tiffany did her best to calm her laughter and then smiled genuinely across the table at him.

“Noah, being rejected is not the worst thing that can happen. Trust me. I’ve been rejected many times. It builds character and toughens you up. Plus, I think your ego could use it. You’re totally full of yourself.”

“How so?” he said.

“Oh, I don’t know. Didn’t you say you were going to fight god a few weekends ago during your set?”

Noah chewed on his lip. “That was performative.”

“It comes from somewhere.”

“Not necessarily true.”

“Noah, come on,” she said, fixing him with an imploring stare. “Be for real right now. You got rejected one time and you completely lost your shit. Total self-sabotage. Do you know how many girls you’ve rejected? A lot. And we pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and keep fighting the good fight, because shit happens.”

Noah, mid-humbling, stayed quiet and let her continue. As uncomfortable as it was to acknowledge his shortcomings, it was also refreshing to hear. He’d never experienced a lecture from a loving mother, but he imagined this was what it felt like.

“Plus,” Tiffany continued, “it sounds like she didn’t even reject you. She just wasn’t ready to fuck you in that moment. And why would she? Considering how you’d treated her.”

“How did I treat her?” he asked. He thought he’d been kind. Certainly more attentive than he’d been to other women in his life.

“I mean, do you even like her?”

“Of course!”

“Really? Because it doesn’t sound like it. You sent her into a mosh pit totally unprepared and let her get hit in the face.”

Noah winced. He did do that. It hadn’t even crossed his mind to mention it to you.

“You didn’t warn her about the content of your music and allowed yourself to get peer-pressured into playing a song that deliberately shits on everything important to her,” she continued. “And what? You’re surprised she doesn’t want to give up her virginity after a month of knowing you?”

Noah had to sit back after what felt like a massive blow to the center of his chest.

“I put more effort in with her than I have with anyone else,” he said, feebly trying to defend himself, though he knew he had no defense to stand on.

“Are you honestly telling me that was the best you could do?”

Noah didn’t answer, reluctant to say the words out loud, and Tiffany sighed.

“Look. If you really like the girl, go earn her.”

Noah fidgeted with the sleeve on the paper to-go cup. The concept of earning someone’s affection was new to him. He’d always been on the receiving end.

“How do I do that?”

Tiffany blinked back at him. “I mean, it’s not really my job to figure that out for you. I’m already giving you more emotional labor than I owe. But if you’re asking me, I’d start by figuring out why her faith is so important to her, rather than focusing on how you can get her to abandon it so you can sleep with her.”

“Ouch. I mean you’re right, but do you have to be so mean about it?”

“Trust me Noah, I’m doing you a kindness.”

He exhaled heavily through his nostrils, realizing that the magic pill to fix his problems was indeed, the toughest to swallow.

“Thank you,” he said, meeting her eyes again. “I appreciate you saying this to me.”

Tiffany nodded. “You’re welcome.”

“Can we be friends?” he asked. He meant it. Tiffany was clearly a positive influence in his life, and even if he didn’t want to be with her romantically, he still wanted her around in some way.

“No,” she said flatly. Noah’s face fell. “At least… not right now. This conversation helped, but I still need to lick my wounds. It isn’t fun being rejected, after all.”

“You can say that again,” he said.

“We can be friendly, though. I’ll still come to your shows because despite all your shortcomings, I unfortunately like your music.”

He chuckled, finding Tiffany’s candor refreshing. “You’re really enjoying the opportunity to insult me, aren’t you?”

“I really am,” she said, grinning from ear to ear. He saw a glimpse of the beauty he’d been so focused on in his drug-induced state. She truly was prettier than he’d given her credit for.

“I hope you find someone better than me,” he said. “I want you to be happy. You deserve a good guy.”

“Thank you,” she said, softer than before and he could tell she believed him.

Noah paid for both their coffees. It was the least he could do. They parted with a warm handshake that Noah had the urge to turn into a hug, but he could tell from her body language she wouldn’t want it.

For the first time since the party, he felt a little lighter in his chest. He fished around in his pocket for the silver ring, hooking it onto his pinky finger and rubbing his thumb along the ��true love waits” inscription he’d memorized earlier. __________

Waking up on Sunday was an ordeal. You hadn’t even been drinking, but it still felt as if you’d had a stimulation hangover. Your ears rang from all the noise, and there was a deep pressure behind your eyes from all the crying you’d done.

You wiped away the crust from your eyelids and were immediately met with tenderness at your temple.

Oh, yeah. You’d been elbowed in the face last night.

Crawling down from your bed, you made your way over to the mirror above your desk to see just how bad it was. An ugly, angry red lump with purpled edges glared back at you.

The rest of your face hadn’t fared much better. Your makeup was smudged all around your eyes and your lipstick smeared down your chin.

You’d slept in your clothes, having been too exhausted to change into anything else when you got back around at around two in the morning.

The alarm on your phone rang, signaling it was time to get ready for church.

You sank down into your desk chair, having no motivation for anything.

You never skipped church unless you were sick. One of the things you prided yourself most on was your regular attendance. Plus, church was where you did all your socializing. All of your friends went. It wasn’t just church you liked, it was going out to lunch afterwards with everyone. It was treating yourself to a luxurious coffee drink beforehand. It was dressing up in your favorite outfits and performing on stage. And it was the satisfaction of knowing God was pleased with you.

Was God still pleased with you?

You stared at the lump on your head.

You’d resisted temptation. That didn’t count for nothing. You’d also allowed the situation to go much further than you should have, but you still listened to your gut when it told you to get out of there. That was enough of a success in your book.

Your thoughts drifted to Noah.

He’d been so forward last night, truly put himself out there, and had looked so dejected when you’d pulled away. But then again, hadn’t he said a few weeks ago that it was important to risk rejection? He seemed aware of what the stakes were.

You didn’t know exactly why you pulled away at that moment. Something told you it wasn’t the right time, but part of you worried that you wouldn’t get another opportunity like the one you’d had, and that perhaps you ruined your chances with him.

Maybe you did? Was that the worst thing?

Perhaps this was God’s way of telling you that Noah was not the right person for you. And if that was the case, you would need to get over the idea of him so you could continue to interact with him at community service without getting hurt.

You kicked your foot up on the desk in front of you and leaned your chair back, staring up at the ceiling and trying to find the central point of balance.

It was 10:30. If you were going to make it to church, you’d have to get up now and start getting ready. You’d have to leave no later than 10:45 to make it to the 11:00 service on time.

You continued to balance on the back legs of your chair, seeing if you could get it to balance on its own for five seconds.

10:45 came and went, and you did not leave your chair. You couldn’t make it to five seconds without it tipping, but you made it to four and a half before you gave up and went back to bed.

__________

You were awoken by a rapt knocking at your door. It definitely wasn’t your roommate, Stevie. She went home every weekend and didn’t come back until late in the evening.

You rolled out of bed and looked at the clock - 1:00 PM. Yawning off the remaining sleep, you opened the door. The first thing your eyes landed on was the white, deep v-neck that gave a peek to a tanned chest.

“Isaac? What are you doing here?” you asked. Isaac had walked you to your dorm before on nights when practice ended late and he insisted it was inappropriate to allow you to walk home alone, but he had never visited you before.

“I wanted to check on you. Can I come in?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said, hesitantly moving aside to let him through. Once inside, he leaned against your desk, crossing his arms as he observed you.

“So…,” you trailed off, sitting on your bed cross-legged.

“You weren’t in church today.” It was not an observation, but an accusation, and it immediately set your nerves on guard.

“Yeah,” you said, keeping your tone even. “I didn’t feel great.”

“Are you hungover?”

“No. I didn’t drink.”

He fixed you with a stare that let you know he didn’t believe you. You met his eyes, unwilling to back down.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He shrugged, likely figuring he wouldn’t get more out of you.

“Do you know where Ava is?” he asked. “She didn’t come either.”

“She didn’t?” This was news to you. You’d looked for her briefly after you’d left but had been unsuccessful in finding her and assumed she’d gone home.

“What happened last night? You look like you’ve been through it.” He stepped closer, eyes scanning up and down your face.

Instinctively, your hand went up to touch the bruise and Isaac’s eyes narrowed.

“It was just a mosh pit,” you said.

“Yeah?” he asked, tone laced with suspicion. “Is that why your purity ring is gone?”

You checked your hand to see it was, indeed, gone. Left in Noah’s back pocket. You sighed and tipped over sideways onto the bed.

“I lost it. But not like that,” you said.

“Sure,” he said, absolutely not believing you. You’d never been seen without the ring, and it was unlikely that it slipped off.

“I didn’t do anything,” you said.

“What is ‘anything’ to you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, look. I don’t owe you this information and it is in no way your job to make sure I’m pure, but I didn’t even kiss anyone last night. I seriously just lost the ring.”

Isaac’s eyebrow lifted up and he pursed his lips, staring you down to see if he could detect any signs of falsehood and when he found none, he deflated.

“Alright,” he said. “But in the future, could you not stay out so late? It was hard to carry the praise and worship service without you and Ava.”

“Sorry,” you said. “I’ll be there next week.”

“Promise?” he asked.

“Promise.”

“So how was the party?” he asked.

“Honestly?” you asked. He nodded. “Not great. Definitely not my scene. I got full-on elbowed in the face. Plus, everyone there was drunk and I couldn’t relate to anyone.”

You could tell Isaac was enjoying hearing your confession, the look in his eye now sporting a condescending glint. But, to his credit, he refrained from giving you any sort of ‘I told you so’��kind of lecture. After a beat of silence though, he started to chuckle at your misfortune.

“Does this feel good to hear?” you asked. He smiled in return and it was genuine.

Isaac wasn’t terrible. He seemed to truly care about you, and though he could be intrusive and overbearing at times, his heart was in the right place.

“Alright. I think I’m gonna let you get some more sleep,” he said after several minutes of catching up, tapping a knuckle on your desk to punctuate his visit. “I’d like to meet sometime this week to go over this Christmas showcase. Thursday night good for you?”

You nodded. “Thanks Isaac.”

You puffed out a mouthful of air as soon as you heard the door close, feeling like you’d just been the subject of an interrogation. It was clear now that your actions were being watched. Anything out-of-character could easily be reported back to your father, and while Isaac let you off the hook easily this time, you couldn’t be so sure he would continue if your behavior turned into a pattern.

You’d have to tread much more carefully if you wanted to fly under the radar.

_______________

The week passed quickly. Ava hadn’t returned any of your texts and you grew worried, but figured she would talk to you whenever she was ready. You wondered if something had happened at the party. Was she upset with you? Was she avoiding you?

Thursday’s meeting went well enough. Isaac had a lot of good ideas about the songs he wanted to perform and how to get the word out about it. The two of you worked closely together and you were starting to wonder if perhaps you’d judged Isaac too harshly for his actions the other week.

It was possible that Noah was just a distraction after all. Someone that helped you shake some of your delusions about Isaac so you could see him as an actual person instead of putting him on such a pedestal—because now that you interacted with each other as equals, he wasn’t all that bad. He was actually easy to get along with.

He didn’t give you that warm pooling sensation in your lower abdomen that Noah gave you, but connecting with him was enjoyable. You could see yourself working well as partners together.

“So you’re going to have to take the solo for Mary Did You Know, as well as O Holy Night,” he said. “You’re our top soprano.”

“Got it,” you said with a curt nod. “Are you going to do O Come O Come Emmanuel?”

“You know it,” he said, grinning proudly. His voice had a great timbre for that one and he knew it.

“Is Ava going to be participating?” you asked.

Isaac sighed. “I haven’t been able to get ahold of her.”

“Me either. I’m starting to get concerned.”

“If she doesn’t show up at church again on Sunday, maybe we should visit her,” he suggested.

“I think that would make me feel better,” you agreed.

As it turned out, however, you didn’t have to wait for Sunday. Ava was waiting outside your dorm when you got back from your meeting with Isaac.

“Hey,” she said, sitting with her knees curled up in front of her. She wore baggy sweatpants and an oversize hoodie.

“Hey,” you said. “Stevie’s home. If you want to talk privately, we should probably go for a walk or something.”

Nodding, she stood up.

You had walked out your dorm hall and halfway down the block before she got the nerve to speak.

“Sorry for being MIA,” she said, hands pushed deep in the pockets of her hoodie.

“Everything okay?” you asked.

“I think,” she replied. “I just needed some time to sort my feelings out.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked. She nodded.

“What happened on Saturday? I couldn’t find you anywhere.” You tried to keep any judgment out of your tone.

“I had more to drink than I meant to,” she began. “I didn’t know my tolerance.”

“That’s an easy mistake to make, especially for your first time drinking,” you said.

“Yeah, but that’s not all that happened.”

The two of you had reached the edge of campus. A left turn would lead you past the party house. A right turn would lead you to the church grounds.

You let Ava take the lead, patiently waiting while she weighed her options.

She turned left. You nodded and continued walking with her.

“I want you to know that I don’t regret any of my decisions,” she prefaced. “I just had some complicated feelings about it.”

“Of course,” you said.

“Nick and I hooked up on Saturday night.”

Your footsteps faltered, but you recovered quickly. “How far did you go?”

“We had sex.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you stopped walking. “What?!” Your voice came out as a shout.

Ava inhaled slowly through her nostrils, nervously looking around. “I need you to make less of a deal about it than you’re making right now.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, tone hushed as you leaned closer to her. “But that’s a whole consent issue. If you’d been drinking…,” you trailed off.

“I was drunk when we were making out,” she said, “but I had sobered up by the time we went back to his place.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes.” She confirmed, with an earnest look in her eye.

“Okay,” you said, calming down a bit. You’d been about to find Nick and strangle him. “So you really don’t regret it?”

“I don’t,” she said. “But… I feel awful about not regretting it. I feel like I should, like it makes me a bad person for not. Like, we were always told that if we made a mistake like this, we’d feel terrible about it. And I don’t feel terrible. I liked it, even. And I want to do it again, if I can.”

“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say. Growing up, you and Ava had always been on the same page about sex, frequently discussing what it might be like on your wedding night. Ava had always been a bit on the wild side, but you had no idea her opinions had changed quite this much.

“But I feel like I’m not allowed to feel this way and continue being involved in the church.”

You understood where she was coming from. Even after you and Noah barely touched each other, you felt weird about going to church the next morning. It was actually quite refreshing to hear that you weren’t alone in questioning the validity of your chastity pledge. You thought you were alone in that.

“Honestly, I don’t blame you,” you confessed. “It feels like there’s an expectation there that if you attend, you have to feel the way they think you should feel. Like if you have sex or something like that, and don’t immediately regret it afterwards, you’re not good enough.”

“Right? Yes!” she said, more lively than you’d seen her all evening. “And I just feel so disconnected with that message.”

“You’re not wrong for feeling the way you feel,” you reassured. “Honestly, I’m also learning that faith is a lot more complicated than they’d have you believe. Noah might be a good person to talk to about it.”

“You mean Nick’s friend?”

“Yeah. He’s helped me see a lot of blind spots that I’d had before regarding religion and sexuality.”

“Did you guys…?”

You shook your head. “No. But we’ve been talking a lot about some of the problems in the church, especially around sexuality. How did you feel immediately afterwards?”

“Well, I went to the bathroom and cried about it, because I initially was hit with a lot of guilt. But after I processed that, I felt kind of happy? Like I was finally living the life I wanted to live for once.”

“I’m glad you got that experience,” you admitted. “I’m sorry that you felt so guilty.”

“To be honest, I thought you would handle this information way worse.”

You laughed, rubbing the back of your neck. “Yeah, I’ve been pretty closed-minded.”

“I think we all started that way.”

“I’m glad you told me,” you said. “I was really worried about you.”

“I’m sorry it took so long,” she admitted. “I was afraid of what you’d think. You’re one of the most important people in my life. I didn’t want you to hate me. And I didn’t want to have to pretend to feel guilty about it to you, or lie about the fact that it even happened.”

You paused the walk to look at her. “I know I haven’t always been the most accepting person. I’m working on that. But I could never hate you. Ever.”

Ava looked back, eyes glassy. The two of you embraced in a lingering hug, of which the significance was not lost on either of you.

When you pulled back, you realized you weren’t too far away from the party house. It was Ava that continued walking towards it.

As the two of you approached, you heard music blasting from the house. You were one or two houses away when you heard Noah’s singing voice.

“I think they’re having band practice,” you said, and sure enough, when you got to the front of the house, you could see inside the basement windows. The light was on and the band members faced away from you. All of them played with intensity—though less intensity than they had done the previous Saturday, when they had the crowd’s energy to feed on.

Noah wore a cutoff black shirt and you could see that his tattoos extended across his back—what looked like flowers on each shoulder and vines connecting them. You couldn’t see anything else, but it piqued your curiosity.

At some point, someone in the band made a mistake and they stopped the song halfway through. Noah turned around to face the drummer and you only had just enough time to dash out of sight before you caught his eyes flick up to the window, squint, and then redirect to the guitarist.

“So how was it?” you asked Ava, resuming your walk.

“Honestly?” she began. “It was incredible. Like, definitely awkward, but also one of the coolest experiences of my life.”

“What happened?”

Ava launched into a (very detailed) retelling of how Nick made sure she was coherent and could give enthusiastic consent, and then how he didn’t judge her for how new she was. He walked her through it every step of the way, made sure she had a great time, and even allowed her to crash at his place afterwards, going as far as to cook her breakfast the next morning.

“He wasn’t the best cook, mind you,” she said. “But the gesture was very sweet.”

“Huh,” you said. “I might like Nick a little more now.”

“That’s their house, by the way,” she said, pointing across the street to a tan single-story home with an unkempt front porch and an overgrown lawn. Beer bottles littered the side of the porch. You could see the blinds were broken in some areas. And yet, you couldn’t help the warmth and affection from growing in the pit of your stomach imagining all the good times that had been shared between the men that lived here.

It was evident from the way they interacted with each other at the party that all of the band members were close with one another. For a moment, you had felt welcomed into that world. At least until you had a panic attack.

“Want to turn around?” you asked.

“Sure,” she agreed.

“So what do you think of their music?”

Ava laughed out loud. “I appreciate Nick’s passion, but I don’t think I ever want to be in a crowd like that again.”

“Same,” you agreed, linking your arm with Ava’s.

This time, when you passed the party house, the lights were off. For a brief second, you wondered what Noah was doing, but then brushed the thought away easily, because it didn’t really matter. You were more than happy simply spending quality time with Ava. Taglist: @reyadawn @sundamariis @noahsebastions @cyber-tiny @livingdeceasedgirl @just-randomm-stuff @xxkittenkissesxx @treacheryinblue @flowerynerds @1toreyouapart @badomensls

Click here to be added to the taglist! As always, I would love to hear your feedback! I eat it up, so pls feed me.

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian smut #Noah Sebastian #bad omens

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wheezyseeker99 · 4 months ago

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So it goes, gorgeous

Warnings: teasing (and a little bit of angsty Cam), swearing, alcohol consumption ((I need to stop writing in drinking, I know)), thigh riding, oral (male receiving and slight female receiving), penetration (fm), and multiple orgasms

18+, MDNI

Summary: There’s a party at Cam’s place and fmc hates him, but she definitely loves him by the end of the night. Frenemies to lovers, but conflicting feelings win 🫶🏻 also thank Taylor again for making reputation album.

And happy girlfriends day to him

This party is getting far too out of hand. My friend Joel is dancing on top of a table shirtless, Tyson did a body shot off of Katie just now, and Jamie is trying to hide awkwardly in the corner. My head is spinning as I look around the nearly dark room.

Being friends with hockey players is weird. In the off season it’s even weirder. I spot Cam across the room, finishing up a round of beer pong with Ryan.

Cam’s place is nice, but everyone is drunk and making the main rooms of the house outrageously messy. Being over there with him seems like the safest place to be in this room honestly. Even though I barely tolerate his presence sober, Cam is the least drunk person in this room besides Jamie.

I make my way over to Cam and lean my back against the wall. He looks good like this. His hat is off, his shirt is partially unbuttoned where I can see the chain against his chest, and his shorts are showing off his muscular thighs. The thigh tattoos peaking out set my thoughts on fire. It makes me so frustrated how hot he is. How cocky he is. Most of the time his ego is double the size of Texas. Looking at his face this close, I’m furious that he makes me feel this way.

“Look who it is,” Cam sneers. “The queen has arrived in our presence.”

I roll my eyes and motion towards the table, “I want to play you next. Bet I can win, mister California.”

I cringe at the way I mildly slurred my speech. I probably shouldn’t do beer pong, especially because I dislike beer to the highest extent, but I want to prove to him that he can’t win everything. His ocean blue eyes bore a hole into me.

“Yeah, baby? Think you can ruin me?”

I walk over to Ryan and take the ping pong ball cup from him. Ryan walks over to Joel to try to get him off the table and I look back to Cam.

“I know I can ruin you.”

“Sweetheart, you only ruin my life by not being mine.”

I hate how my body shuddered at the thought. I hate how cool he thinks he is, but he’s also so damn gorgeous that it physically hurts. There’s going to be consequences of being in his strong magnetic field, but I’m not really caring about it now. The alcohol racing through my body is giving me a load of confidence.

“Sad existence for you then,” I smirk and toss the first ball into one of his cups.

His smirk falters but doesn’t disappear. He eyes me for a second, taking in my form. It’s like I distracted him. He tosses a ball and misses.

“Aw poor baby Cammy missed on his first try,” I mocked. “Here, let me show you how it’s done.”

I walked to his side of the table and grabbed a ball, placing it in his hand. I put my hand over his and tossed it at one of my cups, sinking it into one on the left side. I tossed back the cup and chugged the beer even though it tasted disgusting. I sat the cup down and smirked at him again.

“That’s how it’s done, pretty boy.”

I could feel eyes on us, but nobody interrupted the scene that was playing out. Cam definitely didn’t like the way I’m trying to embarrass him in front of his teammates.

“Fuck the chirping,” Cam grits out. “You and I are going to go have a chat.”

He stalks over to me and takes me by the arm. I barely knew what was going on as he dragged me up the stairs to his room. The door slams behind me and he looks at me with a fiery expression. I think I might drown and die, or even burst into flames, by how Cam is looking at me. I back myself against the door to put space between us. I’m a hostage to not only him, but to my feelings now. He runs his fingers through his hair, making it look sexily messy.

“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?”

I could feel my insides clench at his low tone. I try to hide the fact that my confidence died out. I kept my head up instead of giving into my natural urge to look down.

“It’s funny that you don’t know how to lose. Beer pong of all things makes you snap? That’s what’s funny.”

“Bullshit. You wanted to rile me up,” he states and steps forward. I press my back further against the door. I feel the heat radiating off his body. His expression changes. Instead of looking angry he looks like a hurt puppy.

“Tell me why you hate me so much.”

I feel the urge to lift a hand to his face, and before I realize it, I am. I cup his face and look into his eyes. I dropped my hand after a second when I caught onto what my body was doing. He got me alone, and now everything feels like it’s so simple when it shouldn’t be. Like the pieces all fell into place.

I should hate him, but I’m starting to understand that I don’t. I’m just too attracted to him, and I hated that I didn’t think I could have him. I’m caught up in him now. Completely consumed by his presence.

“I don’t hate you,” I breathe. “I really feel the opposite of hate. I promise.”

I’m waiting for him to reply when I feel his hands come to cup my cheeks. The connection of our eyes makes me want more.

”I’ll be honest, baby. You did a number on me.” I gave him a questionable look and he continues, “I thought I could stop it. I’m usually chill, but you make me jealous. Furious. Turned on. All the fucking feelings.”

He grabs my hand and brings it to his chest. I can feel his heart beating fast under my palm.

“You’ve got my heart if you want it, or we can forget this happened. It’s up to you.”

I’m shocked to say the least. He wants me? I’m getting caught up in the moment, and then I snap out of it.

I stand on my toes and connect my lips to his. The kiss is demanding and warm. My arms wrap around his neck, my chest pressed against his. I can’t ignore how the little scar on his upper lip feels against me. He doesn’t pull his mouth away from mine. He keeps going, tangling his hand into my hair to keep my mouth against his. I can taste the alcohol on his lips and it only makes me feel more intoxicated. When I pull my mouth away I whisper, “I’m yours to keep.”

Cam smiles down at me, taking in the moment. I take in his face. The little freckles that are placed everywhere on his skin. The way his lips are redder now that my lipstick transferred to them. His eyes are brighter now even though this room is darker than downstairs, and they crinkle in the corners when he smiles. I can feel my heart beating out of my chest, matching his.

“Yeah?”

I nod and push my back off the door, taking Cam with me to the edge of his bed. He sits and pulls me to straddle his lap as I connect our lips together again. I moan into his mouth when I feel his bulge against my core.

I move so I’m straddling one of his thighs, grinding down against it as I start to unbutton his shirt. My hands press against his bare chest once I have it exposed to me. I disconnect our lips to pull the shirt off of him completely and kiss his jaw down his neck, biting at his collarbone.

“Baby,” Cam moans. “Yeah ride my thigh like that.”

I rut faster against him, scratching my nails down his back in the process. My clit is pulsing against my panties and I feel the wetness pooling inside them. I’ll probably have to throw them out after this. I bring my lips back to his and whimper at the contact. His hand tugs my head back, biting at my throat. Cam groans against my skin and he bucks his hips up to feel more friction. His hand comes down on my ass twice and I moan at the contact.

“So greedy. Making a mess on my thigh,” he bites out against my skin. His hand comes to my face, squeezing my cheeks together when I tried to turn my head away. “Look at me when you cum.”

My eyes meet his. I feel the pressure rising inside me. I rake a hand through his hair, holding on as a I reach my orgasm. I breath hard and I stare into his eyes until mine fall closed.

Gaining my composure, I slide to the floor on my knees in front of him. Cam’s hands stop mine from reaching the waistband of his shorts.

“You don’t have to, baby girl.”

I stay silent for a split second and quirk an eyebrow before continuing the path I set with my hands. I rub my palms against his muscular thighs, kissing each one of them as I gaze up at him. I can see the places my lips have been, all over his skin. My eyes reach the bulge in his shorts and tilt my head.

“You don’t think I want to take it?”

“When you look at me like that, I don’t know what to think,” he breathes.

“Then let me have the lead until you find your brain again,” I say and hook my fingers into the waistband of his shorts and underwear. Cam lifts his hips and I remove the clothing from his body. His length stands against his toned stomach. I took his shaft into my hand and smirked to myself when I hear a gasp leave his lips. I spread the precum from his tip all along his thick shaft and I look up at him expectantly as I pump him. He bites his bottom lip harshly to hold back his moans.

“Take off your dress. Don’t want it to be ruined by the time I’m done with you.”

I obeyed and took off my dress, tossing it to the floor, leaving me in just my panties. Cam eyed my breasts, but let me take his cock back into my hands without hesitating.

Cam’s hands clawed at the bedsheets when I took him into my mouth. I dragged my tongue up the side of his length before licking the tip. I suck him slow and he makes husky noises of approval from above me.

Cam lets out a strangled moan when he grabbed the back of my head to take more of him. I let him guide my mouth on him. I wanted him to use me like this. He fucked into my mouth, taking what he needed.

“Just like that. Taking me so good,” Cam groans out. “Not such a bratty bad girl when you have your mouth full.”

I have spit running down my chin as I take him deeper. I nearly gag but I force myself not to.

“Fuck, I can’t cum like this. Not the first time. Get up here baby.”

Cam takes his cock out of my mouth before grabbing my hands. He brings me to my feet just to force me down on his bed. My panties are ripped from my body while he’s looking me in the eye. He rubs my pussy, feeling the wetness and I laid my head back against the pillows.

“So gorgeous. Ready for me baby?”

I nod and whine, “yes.”

Cam rolls on a condom and spreads my legs. His cock prodded my entrance, and he slides his tip against my wet folds teasingly. He takes my legs and places them over his shoulders, kissing my knees in the process.

“Gonna take my time with you later. Right now I need to fucking feel you.”

He thrusts into me, sending a jolt of pleasure through my body. I toss my head back and moan as his speed increases. His lips come to my chest. He places kisses around my breasts before taking my nipple into his mouth. His hips snap into me. The only sounds in the room are our bodies meeting in every thrust and our moans.

“Please,” I cry out. “Use me Cam, please.”

“You want to be used?”

I hum in response. I need him to wreck me inside and out, but I won’t boost his ego more just yet. He thrusts into me harder. The expression on his face is determined, like he knows what I want without speaking it into existence.

“You want me to get off inside this gorgeous pussy?”

I nod and I feel the climax rise inside of me. Pleasure explodes through me. He nuzzles his face into my neck as his thrusts stutter. I scream out his name while my hips move up into him, taking what I can through my orgasm.

“Keep saying my name. Want everyone downstairs to know who’s making you feel like this.”

I moan his name again as I ride out my orgasm. I see stars, but he keeps moving into me. My legs are shaking and I’m gasping for air, feeling like I’ve died and gone to heaven.

“Gonna cum baby,” he murmurs against my skin. He erupts while claiming my lips and I savor the taste of him. His hips falter when he cums, and he pulls out not long after to discard the condom. He kneels down in between my spread legs, placing a kiss on my clit. I moaned and squirmed as he licked me slowly.

“I can’t. Too sensitive Cam,” I grab onto his head and pull his face to mine. I kissed him like my life depended on it. My mind and body are so overwhelmed, but when I look at him, when I taste him, just want more. He pulled away and moved the hair away from my face.

“There’s nothing I hated more than what I couldn’t have,” he says before pecking my lips softly, “but now I have it. I have you.”

#cam york #cam york smut #cam york x reader #camyork #cam york fic #nhl imagine #nhl fics

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drunkewok · 1 year ago

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Tiger Inside Chapter Twenty-Four

Stray Kids Mafia (ongoing)

Masterlist

Likes, reblogs and feedback always greatly appreciated

WC: 3.5k

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Genre: Series, Enemies to lovers, non-idol AU, Mafia AU

Synopsis: After years spent away from the family, two strangers start frequenting your place of work, only to bring daunting news. Flung back into the world of the mafia, you try to adapt to your new normal and work alongside a team of eight skilled members to uncover a mystery and take down an unknown enemy.

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, drinking, swearing, violence, weapons

Disclaimer: Any portrayal of Stray Kids or any other idols in this story is purely fiction and do not at all reflect their own personalities or how I view them as a person, it is purely for the sake of the story.

Please do not copy or repost my work

Multiple drained green bottles littered the coffee table, hazy laughter echoing through the room at the crack of a drunken joke. Minho and Seongho’s words failed to pass through my ears as I found myself zoning out at the wall, the alcohol starting to give a fuzz to my surroundings as I held myself steady. I pulled myself from the cushions, letting my feet pull me to the kitchen in search of a glass of water.

“No, really though,” Seongho’s voice carried with slight laughter. “She- She may act like she’s tough but she’s actually a big ole softy who just wants to be held when she’s upset.” His words blurred together, his tongue slurring as they left his mouth.

“Ya!” I smacked his arm as I plopped back down onto the couch, glass of water in hand. “No talking about me the moment I leave the room!”

“I’m just speaking the truth! Remember that stuffed bear I got you? And how distraught you were when you lost it?”

“Seongho, shut up.” In that moment I was praying for the ability to have my eyes drill into the side of his head, the little vocal filter he had even while sober clearly having been thrown out the window.

“Aw, that’s so sweet.” I could tell Minho’s words were laced with a tease, clearly feeding off of Seongho’s drunken ramblings.

“Hey, you shut it too.” My head quickly shot to Minho, finger raised in a silent threat. How is he still this coherent? Besides the flush clearly showing on his cheeks, I would have never guessed he was even drinking with us.

“What? You embarrassed?” Seongho pushed a pouted lip as he looked my way, the mock in his tone dripping with every word. “Too embarrassed to admit you prefer hugging onto something while you sleep?”

“If you don’t shut your mouth right now I’ll do it for you, I swear to god.” I threw a pillow in his direction, Seongho’s delayed response time causing it to hit him directly in the face.

My ears burned, cheeks changing hues as all the blood in my body rushed to my face. I much rather preferred earlier when it didn’t feel like the two of them were teaming up against me in their teases.

“Okayyyyy, fine.” Seongho settled the pillow at his side, both of our eyes promptly pulled towards the light up of his phone placed face up on the table, a new message notification flashing across the screen. He quickly grabbed it and held it close as he opened the message, a subtle blush growing across his cheeks.

“Spill it. Who is it?” Seongho bit the inside of his cheek as he suppressed a smile, slipping the phone into his pocket after typing out a response.

“I haven’t told you about him yet.” I quickly pulled my feet up under me, slightly leaning forward with curiosity and gripping a pillow into my lap.

“Okay? well you better tell me about him now!”

“Him? Oh are you…? I thought you two might’ve-” Minho’s eyes studied between the two of us in confusion, brows creasing as he blinked it away.

Seongho and I went silent for a moment as we both turned towards Minho as his sentence trailed off, before turning back to each other with laughter.

“Oh no, we tried that one time, let’s just say it didn’t really work out how we would’ve thought.” I waved him off as I tried to control my laughter, flashes of a memory of a drunken night in bed together flipping through my mind.

“I was mistaken, okay?" Seongho lightly shoved me to the side, cheeks blushing in embarrassment.

“It’s okay, now you just know what team you play for.” I gave a nonchalant shrug, bringing my glass up to my lips before quickly realizing the derailment of the conversation. “Okay okay okay, but put that aside, who is he!?” My hand waved away the changing topic, attempting to keep Seongho focused.

“Alriiiiight!” Seongho held his hands in front of me, trying to shush me before continuing. “His name is Hyunmin, he started frequenting the lounge a little while ago and we just clicked. He just texted saying he was sad he missed me since I slipped out of work early to come here.”

“Oh my god, and you didn’t think to tell me this!? Com’on, I wanna know all about him, spill it.” Seongho delved into the story of a young man who arrived one night, sitting at the end of the bar and striking up a conversation with him, freshly out of a breakup and searching for distraction in a glass of alcohol. He was a surprisingly chipper one, quickly finding new comfort in Seongho’s company instead of whoever had just broken the poor boy’s heart.

From there he quickly joined the list of regulars, their interactions being the highlight of each other’s days. Seongho beamed with pride as he explained the night he finally had the courage to slide Hyunmin his number, and him gladly accepting it, the two of them becoming inseparable from then on.

“I seriously can’t believe you’ve waited all this time to tell me that you’re seeing someone.” I swapped my glass for my bottle on the table, falling back into the cushions with the back of my hand over my forehead, feigning dramatic offense.

“Okay, you have no room to talk about holding secrets.” Seongho raised his brows as he stared me down, myself just trying to hide my face behind the neck of my bottle.

“You’re not going to let me live this down? Are you?”

“Not in the slightest.” He grinned as he relaxed with another sip, before running off into his next topic.

I watched the two boys as they engaged in a conversation, primarily dominated by Seongho. They finally seemed at ease in each other’s company, soft grins on both of their faces as they discussed the most random of pointless topics.

Noticing my absence from the conversation, Seongho targeted me, a finger waving in the air as he pointed towards me.

“You don’t…” He hesitated for a moment, blinking as he finally let himself catch a breath. “...you don’t even know what’s been going on at work!” He had started informing me of everything that had happened at Blossom since my exit, and all of the updates I had missed with our regulars;

One now wears a ring,

One lost his job,

And one welcomed a new child into the family.

His stories may be difficult to decipher as the words became one incoherent mess, but I thankfully had become fluent enough in drunk Seongho speech to translate.

I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness, but also surprise, at the fact I was missing my days at Blossom. The lounge had been such a primary aspect of my life for so long. Mundane, yes, but also some of the most entertaining moments I had the pleasure to experience in Gangnam, and it had brought me and my closest friend together.

I sunk back into the cushions, letting my head fall back with closed eyes, hoping the world may decide to stop spinning for just two seconds. I was blissfully able to keep their conversations as ambient white noise for a bit, but Seongho somehow segueing the topic to frogs finally had me raising my head in confused entertainment. I almost decided to interject, but thinking it was best to opt silent, just seeing where he’d have the ability to take this.

Seongho fell back into the couch as he spoke, Minho watching him with humor as he examined his drunken state. Seongho’s head lolled to the side, sentence trailing off as he met Minho’s gaze, Minho staring back confused at his abrupt halt on his spewing of words.

“Howww have you not fucked him with eyes like that?”

Minho’s cocky smirk quickly stretched across his face as he gave a soft shrug, staring back at Seongho with sharp eyes.

“I don’t know baby, why don’t you stare a little longer and see if you can resist me too.” My airways are filled with beer as I choked on my drink, sitting up abruptly with my hand immediately clapping over my mouth as I struggled for breath.

Seongho’s mouth hung open in shock, a grin shining through his cheeks, before his head slowly rolled back to me.

“You better be getting on that, like now, or I’ll beat you to it.”

“Oh my god, can both of you please behave yourselves!?" I tried to hide my blushing face in my hands, the heat rising to my cheeks far too fast. "I think I preferred you two fighting, dear god." I mumbled.

"What? You frustrated that he's saying the words you've been too scared to, dear?" Sure enough, Minho's cocky nature wasted no time quickly returning, my eyes growing wide in shock as his head tilted with a smirk.

"Seeeeee? There we go!" Seongho grinned like a damn idiot, clearly proud of himself.

"Stop instigating!" I shoved him to the side, causing him to slightly topple over, supporting his weight on his elbow as he couldn't control his laughter. "You little shit."

If I was to be completely honest, the night had been progressing much smoother than I would have initially expected. Minho seemed to be on his best behavior, except for his cocky comments that slipped into the conversation so effortlessly, and Seongho just had to show his happy, carefree side in order to avoid conflict.

If you had observed Seongho and him now, you would have never guessed about their rocky start. They piggy-backed off each other flawlessly, like they had been friends for years.

Time felt like it had slipped through our fingers, the three of us failing to ever check a clock for awareness of just how much time we had wasted. A heated game of uno having to be cut short in fear of noise complaints, arguments and debates about the most trivial of subjects, and apparently the recurring circling back to frogs?

I was now standing before the two of them, drink in hand, as Seongho so calmly tried to assure me he was a completely reasonable drunk to deal with.

“I’m sorry?” I leaned forward, bewildered. “I’ve got to babysit you every time we walk home. You still have a traffic cone in your living room because I turned my back for two seconds.”

“Listen listen listen.” His eyes closed, head lolling to the side as he slowly waved his hands through the air “Potato potato.” My eyes squinted as I slowly tilted my head to the side, my bottle frozen in time in front of my lips before taking a drink.

“You realize you’re supposed to pronounce it both ways, right? Not just say potato twice…” My mouth hung open as I stared at a lost Seongho, and I swore I could see sparks behind his eyes as his final two brain cells rubbed together to try and form a coherent thought. “And even then, the statement isn’t even relevant to what I was saying?”

Minho snickered beside us, mouth pressed into a firm line as he tried to hold back his laughter. I rubbed my fingers into my eyes with sigh, the arrival of dumbass drunk Seongho clearly making his appearance.

“But you got my point! D-Did you not?” His arms spread out to the side, accompanying his slurred words, as he tried to find his validation.

“Seongho… Buddy…I’m cutting you off.” My face dropped painfully as I stared at him, genuine worry for his well-being starting to creep up on me as I reached forward and pulled his bottle from his hands. Out of the corner of my eye, I can barely make out Minho, eyes glued on me and not breaking. I turned toward him with a glare, the weight of his eyes staring to drop onto me. “Can you stop staring please?”

Minho’s smirk grew once more, and the mighty desire to slap it off his face growing alongside it. His head slowly tilted, a mischievous look in his eyes.

“What? Does it make you nervous when I stare?” The question itself could be innocent, but the intent behind his eyes presented it as anything but.

"Ya know, has anyone told you that you're an insufferable flirt when you're drunk?" I bent over with a huff, setting Seongho’s drink onto the coffee table, as I rose with hands on hips to be met with Minho standing slowly closing the space between us, that goddamn smirk still plastered across his face.

"I think you just want me to be the bad guy to distract yourself from how bad you want me."

I told myself to look away, to break our sharp stare as the heat began rising into my cheeks, and I couldn’t even pinpoint if the fuzziness in my brain was being caused by the alcohol in my system for Minho. His lips slightly parted with a chuckle, the edge of his mouth never dropping out of that fucking smirk. His damn hair falling so effortlessly in front of his face.

His eyes darkened as they studied my face, surely my skin was morphing into a multitude of shades of red, breath caught in my throat as I tried to search for a response.

"Has anyone told you that you fluster a bit too easily?" His head tilted slightly, absorbing the entertainment he was enjoying at my expense.

"The sexual tension in this room is physically suffocating." Seongho grabbed his bottle off the table and leaned back into the couch, one arm draped over the back as the other poured his drink into his mouth, observing the scene unfold before him. I had briefly forgotten he was even in the room, the walls feeling like they were closing in on me just as Minho was.

"Ew." My head snapped towards Seongho, my flushed cheeks fading as my face morphed into one of disgust. Meanwhile Minho's eyes didn't leave me for a moment, continuing to stare me down.

"Then read the room and leave." Mihno’s words may have been pointed at Seongho, but they floated through the air straight to me, his gaze refusing to break.

"Okay ew, the sequel." My hands pressed into Minho's chest as I shoved him away from me. "No. Go away."

"Whatever you say, dear." My mouth sat agape as my eyes studied different aspects of Minho’s face, the smirk stretching across his cheeks, meanwhile my brain short circuiting at the man in front of me. His head slowly tilted, brows raised, as he waited for a response. His eyes slowly scanned down my figure before meeting mine again, tongue running along the inside of his cheek with a snicker. With a scoff I pushed by him, my feet struggling to take me away as fast as possible without going into a full blown sprint.

Tucking myself into the confines of the kitchen, I dipped my head into the fridge with the hopes of a drink, but also the possibility that the cold might knock me back into my senses. I let myself delay getting up, forcing deep breathes through the crisp air, before finally standing with a can in hand.

“Well Seongho seems to be enjoying himself.”

“Jesus fucking christ Minho.” My hand clutched to my chest with a jump as the newly dissipated adrenaline rushed right back into my body, my other arm supporting me as I leaned into the counter. “How is it that you make no sound when you move?”

“I guess you could say it comes with the job.” His mask faded slightly for just a moment as he stared down to the bottle in his hand, before snapping himself out of it, that smirk spreading back across his face as he tilted the bottle in my direction before taking a swig. “You should honestly get better at that, I still hear you fumbling around the house in the middle of the night.”

My lips pursed as I stared him down with narrow eyes, the familiar Minho returning before me.

“What?” His smile morphed into lost confusion at my glare, dropping the bottle from his lips. “Did I play along too well?”

My expression quickly flattened, still not saying a word as I pulled myself up onto the counter and rested my elbows on my knees.

“You call that playing along?”

“Well… yeah. I thought that things needed to go better tonight so I was gonna make sure he enjoyed himself and so I just ran with it and I figured he probably shouldn’t hate me if we’re gonna have to work with him and-”

“Minho.” His mashed up ramblings stopped as his eyes met mine, gaze in a lost stare as his lips slightly parted, frozen in place. “You’re fine, it’s fine. Just damn, really caught me off guard there.” I leaned back into the upper cabinets, crossing one leg over the other as I stared into the blurry distance, trying to blink to focus my vision.

“Oh really?” He slowly stepped closer, that fucking smug smile returning in a flash. “Are you saying you didn’t like it then?”

“Oh nope nope nope.” I placed my hand on his chest and he closed the distance between us, promptly pulling myself off the counter and pushing him away from me. “Nope nope. We’re not doing this again. It’s bedtime.�� He chuckled as I left him behind in the kitchen, stopping the moment I entered the living room, witnessing Seongho out cold on the couch. I knelt before him, trying to nudge him awake.

“Hey Seongho, wake up. You’re sleeping in my bed so Minho can keep his couch.” His eyes stayed glued shut, a groan leaving his lips as he rolled over and faced away from me. “You little shit… Seongho!” I nudged him a bit harder, still to no avail. I stood, hands on my hips with a groan. “How the fuck did you even fall asleep so fast?”

“It’s really no problem, I can just sleep on the floor.” Minho spoke up behind me as he made his way into the room, leaning against the side of the couch.

“Hell no! I’m not letting someone who’s a guest in my home sleep on the floor.”

“Okay? And I’m not letting you sleep on the floor in your own home? Especially with an injured shoulder.”

“Just go get in the bed, Minho, please.” My shoulders dropped in exhaustion, not wanting to be having this debate when I would much rather be knocked out like Seongho.

“The only way I’m sleeping in that bed is if you are too.” I froze, blinking at him as I struggled to comprehend the words that just came out of him, he simply returned a nonchalant shrug. “Those are my terms.”

I looked down to my feet before squeezing my eyes shut, rubbing the tips of my fingers into their sockets with a groan.

“Fine, fine.” I looked up to him with the shoo of the hand. “Go, I’ll turn everything off and be there in a moment.”

“So help me god if I find you sleeping on the floor-”

“I’m not trying to trick you Minho, just go get in the damn bed.” With a sharp stare he grabbed his bag, before turning down the hall to my room. My eyes fell back on Seongho peacefully sleeping on the couch like a rock, “I hate you for this.”

With the apartment fully darkened, and the doors locks double checked, I hesitated before pushing my bedroom door open. This shouldn’t be freaking me out, why is this freaking me out?

As I stepped in, the room was softly lit by my bedside light, Minho propped against the headboard having quickly changed back into his sweats and t-shirt, finger scrolling away on his phone.

“Well thank you for listening for once.” He didn’t even look up from his phone, unaware of the glare he received before I crossed to my dresser, pulling out shorts and a t-shirt.

I quickly retreated from the room in silence, shuffling into the bathroom to change. As I came back, Minho placed his phone upon the nightstand, starting to settle himself into the bed.

After hesitation, I slipped under the covers, pulling the blanket up to my chin as I rolled onto my side and away from Minho, silent as I settled myself into position.

With a soft chuckle the light flicked off, Minho shuffling into the sheets behind me within the darkness.

“Don’t be taking this as a victory.” I grumbled, trying to find a comfortable position that left plenty of room between the two of us, his soft snicker quite evident in the silence.

“Whatever, it’s a victory in my book.”

Next Chapter

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quinnhayden · 1 month ago

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please ma’am may I have some trio fluff now? pretty pwease

It ain't much, but it's a lil' something to get back in the trio groove!

Quinn is dead on her feet when she stumbles inside the tent. From the whispers running around the basecamp, it was a rough time in the medical tent. It’s been twelve hours since he last saw her, almost twenty-four since she last slept.

When she crawls inside her sleeping bag, Bucky expects that to be the end of it. Lights out. Instead, she rolls on her back and stares up at the top of the tent.

“Are we going to live in Brooklyn or Kentucky when we go home?” Quinn asks quietly.

The tension slips away from Bucky’s shoulders. He can deal with this. If she doesn’t want to talk about what she saw in that tent, he’s not pushing it right now. “What do you want?”

Her brows furrow. Steve reaches over to rub the wrinkle between them which is what Bucky wanted to do himself. She’s thinking so hard about it and looks cute.

“If I let you pick where we live, I get to choose our kids’ names,” she finally decides.

Bucky feels a spike in the beat of his heart. They’ve never talked about something like this before. Steve’s face is so unbearably soft. He sprawls out next to her, putting his chin on her shoulder, curling that massive body toward her. “That doesn’t seem like an equal exchange,” Steve says with a shy smile.

“I’ll be pushing your fat-headed kids outta me. I should get to pick their name, shouldn’t I?”

Bucky flops down next to her, putting his hand over her belly. “You got this all figured out, huh? Who says we’re having kids? Maybe me and Steve are gonna run off and elope when we get home. Ever think about that?”

“Steve would look pretty in a dress,” she replies thoughtfully. “He’s definitely got the tits for it.”

Steve looks positively scandalized, only getting redder when Bucky and Quinn have a fit of quiet laughter. He rolls over on his back, crossing his arms over his chest, pouting. “I’m not doing shit with you assholes. I’ll run off to France and become a hotshot artist.”

“Fine with me.” Bucky leans in and kisses her cheek. “How many kiddos we havin’, baby doll?”

“Two, at least,” she answers. “I want one that looks like you, Buck. If Steve is amendable to staying with us then I want one that looks like him, too.”

Steve gets that dreamy look in his eyes. Bucky just giggles. “I don’t think you can control who they end up taking after, baby doll.”

“No matter how many we have, I want ‘em all to look like you,” Steve says to Quinn.

“No. You two are gonna make pretty babies, I know it. So, they’ll look like y’all and they can take after my personality.”

“Hell no,” Steve and Bucky reply immediately and at the exact same time.

Seventy years later, nearly ten hours of labor, two of delivery and his vibranium hand hanging on by a thread, and she’s got a baby pressed to her bare chest. Just as she’d been in that tent where they were all daydreaming about this day, she’s exhausted, but refuses to close her eyes.

“Ten more minutes,” Quinn slurs. “You can hold her after, I swear.”

At the foot of the bed, a nurse warmly reminds her, “Why don’t you try to get the baby to latch first, Doctor Hayden?”

“Right,” she agrees hoarsely.

Steve hasn’t stopped staring at the baby in awe, cupping her tiny head in his whole palm. Meanwhile, Bucky is kissing momma’s temple, so fucking thankful that he’s fit to burst. He wants to drop to his knees and weep along with his newborn baby. Fuck. Fuck, they finally did it. They made it.

“What a fucking set of lungs,” Steve whispers.

“Language, Captain Rogers,” the nurse scolds.

Bucky barks out a laugh. To Quinn, he says, “Don’t you worry about us schmucks, okay? Do what you gotta do. We’re here for the ride.” He smirks, but the effect might be lost with how teary-eyed he is. “And since I’m such a nice guy, I’ll let you pick the name even if you did pick where we settled down.”

Quinn’s head drops back against the pillow. “These nurses know better than to let you run wild.” She smiles, serene and so goddamn beautiful. He didn’t think he could fall more in love with her. “I said it once, I’ll say it again—if I’m pushing your baby outta me, I’m naming ‘em.”

“Anything the wife wants,” he whispers.

#taylor answers magical people #i hope it's fluffy enough nonnie #my fic

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angel-gone-dark · 3 months ago

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He's Got His Mother's Hips - 1 [Bus Stop Blue]

Self indulgent ass fic where I'm in South Park because... why not. FT. April because she's the hottest bitch in town <3

CW: Slur usage, swearing. You know how these boys are.

He leaned against the sign for the bus stop, sighing in the cold mountain air. The chill was nothing he wasn’t used to, being from New Hampshire originally. Colorado was almost no different- just flatter. He yawned, burying his face in his phone to read fanfiction as he waited, earbuds filling his ears with his favorite tunes.

Cartman stuck his chunky arms out, stopping most of his friend group in their tracks.

“Who the fuck is that??” He scoffed.

“How would we fucking know?” Kyle snapped. “It’s a public bus stop, fatass, he can stand there.”

“He’s in my fucking spot.”

“You can’t own a spot, dipshit.” Kyle huffed, glancing at his phone. They were way too early for the bus, as usual.

The short boy bobbed his head to whatever song was in his ears, his half-up half-down hair moving with him. The boys squinted at the stranger, looking him up and down. He had mostly brunette hair framing his jaw, but the tips were dyed blue. His pale face was round and covered in freckles, red cheeks from the cold hidden under crooked and broken silver wire framed glasses. He was chubby, but not in the same way as Eric. Kyle couldn’t help but think it suited him. He was in ratty clothes- worn jeans and a baggy hoodie with holes in it. His shoes were clearly old, the tips of the toes nearly worn through. He caught their gazes, and he gave a half-hearted wave before looking back downwards. His free hand picked at the skin around his nails.

Stan nearly said something until a surprise hug from Butters knocked the air out of him and Kenny. The bleached boy coughed hard, wheezing.

“Christ almighty, Butters, don’t fucking scare me like that!” He shoved his friend lightly. “I almost hit you.”

“Gee, sorry Stan! Oh, who’s that?” The platinum haired fellow didn’t even wait for an answer, bounding with lanky legs up to the new kid. “Hi there!”

His head slowly raised, eyebrows knit together in concern as the hand that didn’t hold his phone reached up and took out one earbud.

“H-hey..?”

“Heya! I’m Leopold, but everybody jus’ calls me Butters! Good t’ meetya!” He stuck out a hand, jolly. The small guy swallowed thickly with his nerves.

“...L-Leigh.” He shook Butters’s hand gently.

“You’re new here, right?”

“No shit, Butters.” Cartman cut in. “You’re in my spot, fag.”

“My bad.” The brunette, now identified as Leigh, mumbled. He scooted away from the signpost.

“Yeah, your fucking bad, Douchebag.” He huffed, taking ‘his’ spot back. Stan and Kyle rolled their eyes while Kenny attempted to light a cigarette, uncaring.

“Damn lighter.” He grumbled. It was probably out of fluid because of his older brother, Kevin, stealing it for a while. “Huh?”

The strange little guy had, unthinking, lit his own lighter and held it to the cigarette in Kenny’s lips. He briefly noticed that the design was a mouth with bloody fangs, red text spelling out ‘BITE ME’ underneath. He nodded in thanks.

“You smoke?” He asked.

“Absolutely not.” That made Kenny laugh, ending on a wheeze.

“Why do you have a lighter then?” The other boy shrugged.

“Looks cool.” Kenny couldn’t argue with that assessment.

“What else you got in your bag?” He raised his brow.

“Uhhh, TicTacs, chapstick… stuff…” He swallowed. He perked back up when the bus pulled in, waving at them lightly before rushing on.

“Good.” Cartman huffed. “I don’t wanna talk to him ever agai- OH GOD DAMMIT.”

Butters shook his head, grabbing Leigh’s hand and tugging him up.

“That’s Eric’s seat, silly. Come sit with me!” Leigh looked up at him in awe, as the blonde tugged him to nearly sit in his lap as he squished in with Kenny.

The brunette squeaked. A tiny girl a few seats in front of them popped her head up and glared at his kidnapper.

“Stotch, you’re scaring the pants off of him. Come sit up here, hon.” She offered, and he gladly moved with a relieved sigh. “Hi, I’m April.”

He smiled lopsidedly as she shook his hand with delicate grace.

“‘M Leigh. G-good to meet you, thanks for the save.” He expressed, giving her hand a light squeeze, being careful of her nails. They looked good, painted with a practiced precision.

“No worries. Cartman eats every new kid alive, and Leo can be a lil’ suffocating.” Leigh nodded.

“You said it, April.” Having one friend was a relief in this place, at least.

word count: 752

#he's got his mother's hips #south park fanfiction #south park #south park self insert #south park self insert fic #south park oc #south park oc fic #sp-by-april #my beloved

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little-bug-el-faouly · 11 months ago

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Layla's pov: Asylum Escape #2

► Part one: Asylum Escape

‘Do you even recognize me?’

He did. Mostly. Took a moment of them staring like she might just disappear again before the words came pouring out. All slurred without much of a filter.

She let him ramble until she got something she understood. There were quiet moments between where he spaced out. Layla waited patiently. Understandably, that took some time. He wasn’t in a good state. Wasn't like she had anywhere else to be, he had all of her attention.

“Echar una mano-“

“Should say it in French mate she knows that one.”

“Dejar plantado-”

“Sorry Layla.”

“Mi polola~”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

“Less cursing, more French guys. C'mon! Bonjour Layla! T’es belle!”

“Cut it out. We need to-”

“Sorry bruv I’m just tryna say ‘ello.”

"Será mejor que no le hables así.”

“And you need to shut the fuck up too.”

“Bit of a mess up here innit? Sorry.”

“No. Layla you need to go. It’s not uh-”

“Si amor, no es seguro aquí.”

“Not a vacation is what it is. It’s bloody awful.”

“Safe. It’s not safe. Trap.”

“Si, I said that.”

“No, you didn’t, you wibbled on in Spanish.”

“Spanish? Ah. My mistake. Hard to think right now.”

“They’re not going to let me leave. Needed you to get me to talk.”

“He’s right. You must leave, mi vida.”

“I will end you.”

The laugh that came out of him definitely wasn’t Marc. She was certain his hand would have waved a grander gesture or punched himself if it hadn’t been restrained. Layla watched him struggling and tried to not let her nose crinkle up. It hurt to see him like this. He shouldn’t be here. Couldn’t hold himself in the front for long. Maybe it was the sedatives they had him on? Or just this place? She didn’t know. She’d never seen them this bad before.

“Hey- hey, hey, hey. All of you. Shut up a sec. Look at me.”

They did. He did. Head strained to lift up a fraction more so he could try and hold her stare. Layla softened her eyes, wishing she could reach out and hold his hand. She was going to do one better.

“I’m not leaving here without you. You got that? I need you all to get on the same page. If you’re right, we got one shot at this. Can you hold yourself up? Why haven't you used your suit yet?”

"Fine, but I don’t like this."

“I mean I’ll try. Rooms a bit spinny."

"Old bird? In the mood he's in? Hah."

"That stupid pigeon-”

“It's complicated.”

“What you got planned for us chica?”

“I swear. Once I take off these restraints, if you punch yourself, we’re going to have a problem. Focus.” “You tell ‘em, love.”

“I am focused.”

“Ahh he’s behaving now wife is here.”

"Shut your mouth."

Layla worked on the restraints behind his back. Helping him up to his feet. Keeping an arm around him while he gathered his bearings. Layla guided him towards the door, letting him lean his weight onto her as they moved.

Pushing him up against the wall just out of view. Close enough to be sharing each other's air, he leaned in but she didn't rise to it. Instead, she raised her hand to gesture for him to wait for the signal. He leaned back with a more stern expression, and then his eyebrows shot up and a more nervous one broke through. She thumped her fist against the door until one of the escorts opened it. Show time.

#layla el faouly #may calamawy #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant #oscar isaac #moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #open starter #open rp #laylas pov

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hinatastinygiant · 1 year ago

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21 | Cygnus

Pairing: Kita x Fem!Reader

What's Meant to Be Masterlist

As the evening continues, your group finds themselves at the rented room, filled with single people who are drinking, dancing, and having a good time. It's a different vibe from the formal wedding, but no less fun.

You're sitting at the bar, sipping a glass of wine, when Atsumu comes up behind you and grabs your shoulders.

"Let's get a shot," he slurs, obviously drunk.

"I dunno," you hum, swirling the glass in your hand.

"Come on," he pouts, leaning against you. "Just one."

"Okay, okay," you give in, rolling your eyes.

Four shots later, and you're feeling more than buzzed.

"Oh my god," you gasp. "That was awful."

"It's so good," Atsumu grins.

"No, no, no, no," you shake your head. "I'm done."

"One more," he insists.

"Jesus," Kita's voice breaks in between the two of you. "I turn around for two minutes and you're already trying to get her drunk."

"Shinsuke," Atsumu whines, wrapping his arms around his neck.

"Get lost," he says, shoving him away. "Go hang out with your other friends or something."

"But I never get to hang out with Y/N. Not since she started hanging out with you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" you question, raising a brow.

"Nothin'," he shrugs. "Just that Kita's a hog."

Kita rolls his eyes, but doesn't say anything in response.

"Whatever," Atsumu sighs as he gets up from his seat beside you. "I'm gonna go get some fresh air."

"Yeah, and I'm gonna find some people that don't annoy me," Kita adds, taking Atsumu's seat.

But before Atsumu can get anywhere, your group hears the current DJ's voice through the speakers. "Alright, alright, can I get everyone's attention," he shouts. "Our bride and groom are about to make their exit. So, everybody give it up for Mr. and Mrs. Miya!"

Cheers erupt around the room, and everyone claps for the happy couple.

"Thank you," Osamu laughs, stumbling towards his brother. "Hey, guys. So, um, my wife and I are gonna go. I hope you all have a good night."

"You too," Kita says, standing up and shaking Osamu's hand.

"And thanks for helping with the wedding," Osamu smiles at you.

"No problem," you nod, returning the smile.

"So, what are you gonna do now?" Atsumu asks his brother.

"I'm taking my wife back to my place," he answers, grinning. "We're gonna-"

"Oh, god, spare me the details," Atsumu groans.

"Whatever," Osamu rolls his eyes. "You're just jealous."

"Maybe I am," Atsumu sighs, shaking his head. "But get out of here. Enjoy your wedding night."

"That's exactly what we're gonna do," Osamu laughs, and the two brothers share a fist bump.

With that, Osamu and his new wife wave goodbye, and make their way out of the room.

"Now what?" Kita sighs.

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm going to go find a nice girl to take home," Atsumu smirks.

"Gross," Kita grimaces.

"See you around," Atsumu laughs, walking off.

"What a freak," Kita grumbles.

"Don't worry about him," you smile. "He's harmless."

"Yeah, yeah," Kita sighs, rubbing his temples. "I'm sorry, Y/N, but I don't think I can drive us home. I'm too drunk."

"Me too," you sigh. "And I think all the sober guests are gone."

"Fuck," Kita hisses, running a hand through his hair. "Guess we're taking an Uber."

"Sounds like a plan," you nod, standing up. "Let's go."

The two of you leave the building and walk out into the street. As you wait for the car, the alcohol really starts to hit you. Your mind is foggy, and you can barely keep your balance.

"Oh my god," you groan, leaning against the wall. "This sucks."

"Yeah," Kita sighs. "I'm never drinking again."

You laugh at his comment. "God, I remember you saying that back in high school," you remind him.

"But I meant it this time," he mumbles, his words slurring. "I swear, I'm gonna quit tomorrow."

"Whatever you say," you roll your eyes.

As you continue to wait for the car, your phone suddenly starts ringing. When you pull it out of your purse, you see that it's a call from Atsumu.

"Hey, Atsumu," you answer.

"Hey," he says, his voice coming through the speaker. "Are you still at the venue?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Can you do me a favor and grab my keys from the front desk? They're in the pocket of my jacket. I can't find them anywhere, and I'm not drunk enough to be losing shit like this," he asks pleadingly.

"Why can't you?" you ask, slightly annoyed.

"I just puked in the trash can," he admits.

"Ew, Tsumu," you groan.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbles.

"Ugh, fine, I'll go look for them," you give in. "Just hold on."

When you hang up the phone, you turn to Kita apologetically.

"What's wrong?" he asks, raising a brow.

"Atsumu needs his house keys, and he left them at the front desk," you sigh.

"Great," Kita mutters. "Should I cancel the Uber?"

"For now," you nod.

"Fine," he says, pressing a few buttons on his phone. "Let's go."

The two of you stumble your way back into the building and make your way to the front desk. You search around for Atsumu's coat and finally find it burried in the pile. You rummage around until you find his keys and pull them out.

"There they are," you smile triumphantly.

"Awesome," Kita nods, turning back to the door. "Now let's go."

But before either of you can leave, the two of you are met with Suna, who is rushing out of the door.

"Oh, shit," he curses, nearly bumping into you.

"What's up?" Kita asks.

"Oh, uh, nothing," Suna smiles.

"Are you leaving?" you ask.

"Yeah, I'm pretty drunk," he laughs.

"And how are you getting home... If you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm going with some friends," he explains. "They're waiting outside."

"Gotcha," Kita nods.

"So, where are you two going?" he then asks, smirking with an idea.

"We're going to Atsumu," you interrupt, causing him to look extremely confused.

"Don't tell me you're actually going to-"

"No! Of course not," Kita rolls his eyes. "We're going to help the drunk idiot."

"Oh," Suna breathes a sigh of relief.

"What did you think we were doing?" you ask half unsure if you should really be questioning it.

"Oh, um," Suna stutters, rubbing the back of his neck. "I thought maybe you two were gonna, um..."

"What?" Kita asks, raising a brow.

"I thought you two were going to..." Suna continues, his face reddening. "Y'know..."

"Go home, Suna," Kita groans, shoving him out of the coatroom. "Your friends are waiting for you."

"Yeah, okay," Suna nods, smiling awkwardly.

"See ya later," Kita says, pushing him out the door.

"Yeah, see ya," Suna waves, stumbling down the hall.

The two of you then turn to each other and shake your heads.

"What the hell was that?" you chuckle.

"I have no idea," Kita sighs.

"Let's get back to Atsumu," you say, taking Kita's hand. You then lead him over to the elevator and push the button. As you wait for the doors to open, Kita leans against the wall and lets out a deep sigh.

"What's wrong?" you ask, looking up at him.

"Nothing," he mutters, his cheeks reddening.

"What?"

"Nothing," he repeats, shaking his head. "I'm just thinking about..."

What's Meant to Be Masterlist

Taglist: @thisbicc

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artinvain · 4 months ago

Note

could you maybe do something about Abby with a breeding kink, calling her daddy and also primal sex😩 thank youu

needed an excuses to be a needy strap drunk whore :)) thank u

cw: slapping, squirting strap, “daddy”, squirting, breeding kink!!! lactation kink (?) — men, minors, agless blogs dni or follow - you will be blocked!

“what do you want baby, tell me what you want,” abby mumbles into your pussy. her fingers don’t let up and neither does her tongue as she fucks you, her broad shoulders between your legs. “please daddy, god - feels augh- ,” your words slurred as abby rubbed your gspot —fingers curling as she sucks sloppily at your clit.

“I know baby, must feel so fucking good - cause fuck this pretty pussy feels so good sucking me in,” she cooes, her other hand cirling your thigh and spanking your clit so she can soothe her tongue over your throbbing clit.

“fuck sweetheart daddy can’t wait to stretch you out, god — and fill you with my cum,” she moans feeling you clench around her — “aw you like that huh? want daddy to put a baby in you?”

you groan as abby suckles on your clit again and you cum, rocking your hips against her. you pull on her hair, yelping as she moves her head side to side, not letting up as your belly tightens and your thighs close around her shoulders. abby keeps going, fucking you through your orgasm and her fingers seemingly slipping deeper into you, abby groaned around your clit as she taps on your gpsot, her mouth following your clit as your hips hump and grind against her face. “daddy oh fuck, please I can’t,”

abby nods against you, “yes you can honey, fuckin take it, gotta get you ready for my cock yeah?” her tongue goes back to rolling against your clit “m’gonna cum - you’re so fucking deep mmmh- daddy,” you whimper your eyes rolling back in your head as you cum again. abby satisfied to see you huffing and twitching, your hands grabbing at her as your back arches.

“please want — need you inside please abby-“ the smack across your face shouldn’t make you moan the way it does, abby soothes her rough hand over your cheek “nuh-uh baby that’s not my name,”

“m’aorry daddy,” you whine and abby chuckles and eases a thumb into your mouth letting you suck on it desperately and then replacing it with the sticky fingers that were inside you, cupping your head and cooing as you gargle on them.

“good fucking girl, look at you — my dirty little slut, oh my god,” abby mewls at the sight of you, your mouth full and drooly, pretty eyes wide and watery as you stare at her with furrowed brows - your hips bucking up into her.

“fuuck you like gagging on daddy’s fingers?” abby moans watching you swallow around them and then smearing that wetness against your cheek with a smack, “answer me - you like sucking my fingers?” she asks, her other hand wrapping around your throat.

“yes daddy,” you whine, your hands scratching her back as she kneels between your thighs. “tell me what you want honey” abby groans, rubbing a lubed hand over her strap as she leans over you and lines herself up.

“beg f’me sweetheart,” abby cooes, the head of her cock stretching you out, a gentle hand on your knee, “want you to beg for daddy’s cock,” she chuckles as you whine, bucking your hips up into her

“please please I want you to fuck me daddy want you to make us mommies - fuck baby into me,”

abby moans sinking all the way into you as you yelp and whine, “oh god, my dirty fucking girl,” she groans and you yelp “s’big so big daddy,” you whine, your back arching as you grab for abby. tears welling up in your eyes at the stretch, the way the tip of her cock is spearing into your gspot.

“so pretty when you cry,” abby yelps as she pulls back and pushes into your wet and gummy cunt, “swear I can feel you - fucking sucking me in so deep baby,” she cooes, “you’re so tight, christ,” abby starts to fuck into you, gripping your hip and grinding her hips into you. “god my pretty’s pussy just crying for me, listen to how wet you are baby s’pathetic”. you groan eyes rolling back in your head as you jerk cumming, surprised by the pleasure.

“oh my god did you just cum?” abby smacks your cheek as you pant and shudder. “fuck you really are pathetic, so sloppy for my cock,” abby’s chuckle turns into a moan when she hears how much wetter you are.

“fuck, m’gonna fill you up, get you full- fuck- full of my cum oh my god” abby’s strap is pressing against her swollen wet clit as she grinds into you, a hand on your hip and your throat as she lets you rock against her.

“rub that puffy clit for me baby, wanna watch you go stupid,” abby moans as you do, your whimpering getting more frequent, “wanna feel your cum inside me please please,” you gasp and groan gutturally when abby’s strap pools warm cum into your cunt.

“daddy m’cumming mmhfuck-“ you shudder as abby fucks toy through it, “that’s it baby, so good for me — look so pretty cumming all over my cock-“ you gargle on a moan as abby takes over rubbing your clit, your hands trying to push her away weak and overstimulated with pleasure.

“want it to take baby,” abby whines, her hips snapping of their own volition letting more cum spill into you as she cums, her clit throbbing as she fucks into you. your babbling reduced to “daddy” and “thank you,”

abby moans, shuddering against you “oh I got you baby, you’re okay - just feel good for me yeah, my good girl” she moans and pulls out gently, watching you shudder, eyes scrunched shut and mouth perpetually open as she stuffs three fingers into your puffy pussy, moaning at the feeling of your clenching around her

“still so fucking needy,” she moans, watching her fingers come back glistening in your wetness and her creamy cum, abby leans in to suck at your clit and moans at the flavour of your cum and her cherry flavoured mix in her mouth.

“one more for me sweetheart, wanna make you cum just one more time,” you yelp your thighs closing around her hand and still she fucks it into you, “fuck can’t wait to see you all full of my baby,” abby moans “tits full of milk, m’gonna help take care of mommy’s tits too,” her thumb is rubbing your clit until she can feel you spurting onto her hand and, your thighs as you squirt.

“that’s it baby, good girl,” she moans, finally satisfied with herself now that you’re fully immobile, your hands still fisting the sheets as you tremor but your legs fall slack and abby pulls you up into her arms.

“did so good for me baby,” she moans, her hands running over your body as you sigh and melt into her.

🤪🏷️ @lesbian-useless @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat @lavendersgirl @bimboprincezz @emiliabby

#breeding kink making me 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫#18+ mdni #lesbian #lesbian smut #abby tlou smut #men dni #abby anderson smut #abby tlou #nsft lesbian #mdni

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aroace-cat-lady · 2 years ago

Note

so uhhhh ahhh long rant incoming sorry~

I'm sure you're aware of this whole Matty situation...

I just need to say that I cannot support Taylor after this, for me, this is absolutely where I draw the line. Personally, I believe that knowingly dating a bigot, a racist for example - this is someone who has unashamedly admitted to watching racist torture p**n, imagine how twisted you have to be to do such a thing - it automatically means that you are also racist, because, as per *my* definition of racism, racism doesn't have to be outright saying racial slurs and actively harassing poc, I definitely classify this indifference and condoning of bigotry as racism too. You *cannot* claim to be an activist and proceed to associate yourself with someone who is against everything you apparently stand for, unless it is of course, purely performative and somewhat for your own benefit. You cannot seriously claim you stand with people of colour, trans people, jewish people, muslims, every marginalised group basically, yet associate yourself with someone who clearly doesn't??

I understand some people are conflicted, I mean so was I for perhaps an hour after it was confirmed, it is hard when someone who you might idolise, who you believed would advocate for you is actually incredibly apathetic, and who has proven that countless times but especially this time, that they didn't truly mean what they claimed... But how can one not draw the line at bigotry? You can't just shrug it off by saying "I love her but this is wr-" that means nothing, you can't seriously call her out for something and say you love her in the same sentence, does that even count as holding her accountable? Equally bad are those who are "looking the other way" so you simply just don't want to hold her accountable and then be held accountable yourself for not doing so.

Additionally, if you're going to date a literal bigot, and you are aware of the colossal platform and influence you hold, why would you do it publicly- oh and with a fanbase obviously including the groups said bigot has openly discriminated against?

Unfortunately, the main responses I've seen to this situation are: swifties who idolise taylor to an unhealthy extent attempting to defend and condone even matty's actions, the performative activists who pretend they care but continue to talk about how much they adore her and basically just shrug it off, those who are fully aware its wrong and look the other way, and the literal minority who hold her accountable. Oh, said minority's feelings tend to be dismissed and invalidated and belittled by the former 3 groups. Oh, and also, said minority is primarily poc. hmmm.

Something particularly annoying that people are doing is attempting to making this about misogyny when it quite obviously isn't ("ofc you guys are blaming a woman for a man's actions"). I swear, I have seen not one person who has even implied that Taylor is to blame for Matty's actions. We are holding them both accountable because they are both shitty. Matty is unquestionably worse, but does that mean Taylor shouldn't be held accountable? Really? People saying this either... have zero understanding of the situation OR just don't want to hold her accountable and want to *out-woke* us or something and I think most of them are guilty of the latter

btw you don't have to comment on this or anything idk I'm just upset lrpekfos;rjdlgi

Oh I'm commenting don't worry about that

Just!!! Ugh!!!

I'm so. Outraged. And disgusted. He's just another privilege white guy who doesn't care at all about making fun or offending ppl that are different from him and that doesn't even try to understand or respect them. He's the worst brand of white bread out there.

And most white fans are being so awful about this. Oh you're just making it about yourself oh she's just not thinking oh he's not that bad oh I actually think he's becoming a better person because of her. Shut up. Shut up. Just shut the fuck up.

I really don't know how to feel about Taylor right now. Like, all I can think about now is how a lot of ppl have said for years she's racist cuz she has never toured on latam. How there's literally no explanation for that. And I ignore all of that cuz, dude, it's Taylor??? She's one of the few ppl that actually try.

But. Is she?? Cuz she isn't trying a lot right now. She apparently doesn't care. Sure, she stands for human rights and say Vote Blue!! and all that, but at the end she doesn't seem to think that being racist antisemitic islamophibic etcetc count as a red flag.

I just hate feeling like this. I've always respected and admired Taylor, but I really just can't respect her right now. But I don't seem able to pull away from her.

I mean, I literally love her songs so much I learned a second fucking language thanks to her. My relationship with my sister got a lot better because of her music. I've met incredible ppl because I started blogging about her.

I guess I'm so disappointed and kind of heartbroken right now. Like, I got this feeling of you didn't just betrayed me, you betrayed all of us and, worst of all, you betrayed yourself

It's just a lot.

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dizzydesi53 · 1 year ago

Text

Auction

it took me hours to search every boat on the dock with my feathers while I went and talked to anyone I could on the street. I found a very drunk woman outside the boat slumped against a wall. she told me, with little prompting:

"that the ship ....stops at Tokyo International, p-p-picksss up foreign men ...to sell omegasss. sell'ss at 12pm"

her slurring was awful but I managed to follow what she was saying. I flew off to Tokyo International Harbor to find the ship that was setting sail at 12 pm. Looking a the clock it was 10:30 pm, if I didn't hurry the ship would set sail and id probably never find her.

I was chained with my hands in the air, I was gagged and blindfolded. I could feel I was standing in a cage and it was moving forward. blinding light filters through the blindfold and I could hear a huge crowd roar in applause and whoops. I heard wolf whistles and geering which made me feel nauseous.

"And our final prize tonight, this beauty is a pure untouched Omega and one of the rare 2% who is unaffected by pheromones and alphas. She's never been marked or mated and what's more, she's just a few days away from going into heat. the bidding will start at 1hundred thousand."

the bids kept rolling in, men screaming higher, and higher numbers. I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. I needed out, I started struggling trying to get my hands out of the cuffs or the gag out of my mouth.

"Looks like we have a feisty one gentlemen, maybe you should see her gorgeous eyes!"

the blindfold was ripped away revealing a theater of people, all males, all alphas. there was sudden quiet while I looked around and then they lost their minds, yelling and screaming out numbers. I couldn't keep up, my breathing turned hectic and I started panicking. I was starting to think that id never be saved. that id never sees Keigo again.

I was such an idiot! I should have told him about my past, I should have trusted him. he did so much to get to know me as a person and as his mate, and I kept shoving him away because I was scared.

if I see him again, ill make it right I swear!

I heard a gavel hit the wood and a man yelled

"Sold to the handsome gentleman in the suit!"

I was picked up by two men by my arms while I kicked and flailed trying to escape. they dropped me on a bed in a very large cabin on a boat. I could tell because of the rocking. they forcefully flipped me onto my stomach and cuffed my hands to the headboard of the bed.

tears started streaming down my face, I felt helpless and useless. I'm supposed to be a hero, I'm not supposed to need saving! Oh my god, Keigo's not going to save me, he's not going to be on time!

the door creaked open and I started hyperventilating more than I was before. fabric rustled and the bed dipped, I pulled hard at the cuffs but I couldn't get out!

"My name's Sabastian, your mate,beautiful. remember it because you'll be screaming it soon enough."

he chuckled sending fear straight through me I tried kicking him but he caught my ankle pulling me under him. I screamed into the gag. his hand inched up my thigh making me gag and gasp for air. no matter how much I screamed and cried it only seemed to excite this alpha more, sickening me more.

my ears picked up noise outside, there was a loud thud and a scream. then I heard the door behind us bang open.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY MATE!!"

I've never been so relieved to hear that voice!

"This omega is MINE! She's not marked and I paid a lot of money to get her under me!"

Hawks pheromones filled the room, I could tell that most people would be too afraid to even move but this new alpha 'Sabastian' didn't even seem to care. he griped my hips moving me where he wanted, I whimpered trying to get away from him.

Hawks growled, and the noise echoed thru the cabin making me shiver. one of his sharpened feathers cut through my bindings letting me rip out the gag.

"GET THE FUCK OFF ME NOW!!"

I kicked and hit the man who was trying to pin me down. a giant red feather blade appeared under his chin.

"if you have any common sense you'll let her go now!"

his voice was deadly calm and even. even I was scared for half a heartbeat. I scrambled up and away from the alpha, I hid behind Hawks. he used his wings to shield me. I backed up as much as I could to the door.

"Y/N, the other heroes should be here by now go find Miriko."

I could tell if I left he would do something he'd regret, I didn't want to leave him. I tugged on his jacket.

"I need you, please! let's go! I need you"

I sound pathetic and weak but he's the only person who's ever made me feel safe. his eyes left the other alpha and glanced at me. I don't know what he saw when he looked at me but his face softened he nodded. he scooped me up and I hid in his jacket.

"This Omega's is mine whether you like it or not but don't worry ill be sure to breed her well"

just hearing that word made me turn so red I might have rivaled his wings for color. it was especially embarrassing that it came out of Hawks's mouth. he carried me out slamming the door on his way. he held me tight and I clung to him, shaking and trying hard not to sob like a toddler.

he marched past all the heroes just arriving and flew off making a beeline straight to our apartment as soon as he was off the yacht. while flying I broke down and sobbed into his neck.

"I thought you wouldn't come!"

" of course id come for you! I'd search the whole world for you! you're my mate no matter what."

that made me cry harder, he landed on our balcony, taking me to our bed. he cuddled me close while rubbing my back.

"I was so worried about you! Next time say close to me!"

he kissed my head and breathed in my scent. still rubbing my back and squeezing me to his chest tightly. the fact that he said 'next time' was encouraging! he curled his wing around me making me feel warm and safe. after my tears tapered off I fell into a deep sleep.

#fanfictionsmut #hawksbnha #hawksfanfic #wattpad #academia #anime #myhero #academy #boku no hero acedamia #僕のヒーローアカデミア

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tomurderornottomurder · 2 years ago

Text

taking care; eddie munson

pair. eddie munson x male!reader

summ. (request) reader is sick but sent to school anyway and eddie finds out, insists on taking reader home, sees reader's shitty home, and takes him to his

gen. angst, fluff, sick hurt/comfort

tw. implied abuse, implied neglect, shitty awful parents, puking, dry heaving, allusions to physical abuse, use of "queer" as a slur, swearing

wc. 2.3k

note. i was planning on getting requests out earlier but i have actually been busy w/ friends n family and i'm going on a little trip tomorrow! anyway, hope u enjoy!! (also i feel like maybe eddie's dialogue is ooc so i apologize)

Your head spins and your stomach churns as you stumble out of your room, holding your hand against your forehead. You know it's a bad idea to even ask but you just feel so awful that you hope your mother would let you stay home. Your hand trembles as you reach out for your mother's bedroom door. You stand there for a solid ten minutes before you get the courage to turn the doorknob and carefully step into her room. "Mom?"

She stirs, head snapping in your direction. "What?" She spits.

"I- I don't feel good," Your voice wavers as you pathetically croak. "I can barely stand and I threw up twice already."

"And?" She looks at you expectantly, sitting up before setting her glasses on her nose.

"Could I... stay home?"

"No," She swings her legs over the bed. "Of course, not! I can't have you here!"

"B-but I'll stay in my room and it's serious, mom. I can't huuh-" You cover your mouth as you dry heave. You shoot your mom a look and she's unmoved.

She makes a shooing motion with her hands, giving you an icy glare as her answer.

"Okay," You put your hands up before covering your mouth again as bile travels up your throat.

---

Once you step foot into Hawkins High, you head to the bathroom to empty your guts. After you stop throwing up, you sit against the cold tile of the bathroom floor (that also happens to be pretty disgusting). You rest your head against the stall with your knees pulled up to your chest. You take a good few moments to breathe deeply and collect yourself. After you're at least pretty sure you won't throw up as soon as you move, you open your eyes. The bathroom isn't the greatest place for you to be breathing deeply but alas. You push on your knees as you stand and almost throw up again at the sight of the toilet before you flush it. You inhale sharply before throwing your bag over your shoulder and walking out of the stall.

With as minimal stumbling as you can manage, you make it to your class albeit late. The teacher doesn't even blink an eye at you as you wobble your way to your seat. It looks like a chunk of other students were missing or skipping out on class. You're surprised and relieved at the lack of a lecture.

---

Third period. With Eddie. There was no way he wouldn't be able to see through you. Nonetheless, you try your best to put up an act. It's a bit easier since you arrive before him and he can't stare you down as you walk on trembling legs. He takes his usual seat right in front of you, tossing his bag to the floor before he turns around to chat you up. You can't help smiling back at his beaming and beautiful face.

"How was your morning?" He asks casually, resting his arms on your desk.

"Greaaat,"

"Rough mornin', sweetheart?" He gives a slight chuckle, playful eyes staring back into yours.

"Yep," You pop the 'p' and nod your head.

"Well," Eddie drawls, "tell me about it."

"First of all huuh-" You slap your hand over your mouth as you start dry heaving. Your eyes blow wide and you scoot your chair back as you fold over, still holding your hands over your mouth like your life depends on it. The dry heaving doesn't stop and soon you begin to feel that unwanted guest creeping up your throat. Tears sting your eyes as you kick back your chair and make a run for the bathroom leaving Eddie in the dust.

You fall to your knees once you see a toilet and in the next moment you finally free your mouth and let it all out. You're too preoccupied with throwing up to notice or feel the bruises forming on your knees or the other person entering the bathroom. That is until you hear their voice ring out.

"Y/n?"

You really wish you would have locked the door behind you because in the next second Eddie Munson is squeezing into the stall with you. Thankfully (or not), he locks the stall behind him, crouches down, and rubs reassuring circles against your back. "Hey, it's okay," He whispers, brushing some hair from your face.

Once you're done, you feel empty. If Eddie wasn't there with you and so close -pressed up against you like a torturously fantastic dream- you would have looked pale and drained but your face was flushed and your stomach was whirling with butterflies. You sort of wiggle out of his grip as you get off your knees, turning to sit with your back against the stall like before and pulling your knees to your chest. Eddie does the same to give you what little space there was before his eyes fall on you, staring intently.

"Care to share what that was about?"

You glare at him, thinking it would be fairly obvious. "I'm sick, dumbass."

"No shit," Eddie retorts. "What're you doing at school then, huh?" He looks at you like you had a choice in the matter.

"Can't stay home."

"Bullshit."

"I'm fine," You settle for. "I'll make it through the day with a few quick bathroom breaks, no big deal."

"No big deal?" He looks at you incredulously. "Man, you're throwing your guts up, you look like a ghost, and your eyes are all..." He moves his fingers in a circular motion which doesn't help him explain nor make sense to you. He scoots the little bit there is closer and takes your arm gently, "And you're shaking."

He lets go of your arm and you shrug. "That sucks, I'll be fine." It was what your mother would say.

"No, fuck that!" He takes your hand and stands up. "C'mon, you're going home," He pulls you up, wrapping his arm around you.

"Eddie!" You whine.

"No arguments, big boy, c'mon!"

---

You sigh as Eddie turns off the ignition, his van sitting in your driveway. "Eddie, this isn't a good idea,"

"Why? Because you need to go to school even though you're clearly dying?"

You roll your eyes at him, "No. Because who do you think sent me to school anyway?" You turn in your seat, looking sternly at him. "I do what I have to, okay?" Your gaze softens.

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's just- Nothing. I don't mean anything by it." You shake your head a little. "Go," You motion him toward your door, "be my guest."

Eddie looks at you puzzled but persists nonetheless. He unbuckles and hops out of his van. You could almost laugh as he struts up to your door, it's too bad what he was about to see wouldn't be too funny nor prove whatever point he had. Eddie softly knocks at your door, holding his hands behind him and rocking on his heels. He jumps at the door opening and his eyes immediately scan over each and every bruise and mark littering the exposed skin of your mom's body.

"The hell do you want? Soliciting some magazine I ain't gonna read?"

Eddie doesn't really know what to say. His muscles tense up as a taller man joins your mother's presence. There are two large handprint-like marks on the man's neck like someone tried to strangle him.

"You here 'bout our son? He ain't lay hands on you, done he? Like yous a woman?" Your dad asks, leaning his hand on the doorframe.

Eddie still stays silent, unsure about how or even if there was a way for him to go about this.

Your dad slams his fist against the doorframe causing Eddie to jump. "Well?" He asks. "Fucking queer touch you or not?"

"I'm sorry," Eddie puts his hands up. "Wrong house," He squeaks out before turning tail and running back to the van.

You wish you could have just laughed at this because your parents really were something but they were more than that. You turn to look at Eddie. "First, are you okay?" He nods and you sigh. "Then second, I told you!" You almost want to curse him out but you're sure he got enough traumatization from your parents. "I fuckin' told you," You mumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

---

You honestly expected Eddie just to take you back to school but now he was passing the building. "Eddie, where are we going?"

"My house," He answers nonchalantly.

"What do you mean 'your house'?"

"Well, trailer but still,"

"Eddie," You're practically boring a hole into the side of his face. "Eddie," You repeat. "Eddie!"

"What?!" He snaps his head toward you. His face quickly softens, "Sorry."

"Why are you taking me to your house?"

"Because you're sick!" He throws both of his hands up and off the steering wheel. In a calmer tone, he adds, "Besides, I'm not letting you go back to your house or the school. I'm taking care of you."

You're silent for a moment. You've never had anyone take care of you like this, at least not since you were really young. "You don't need to-"

"I don't need to do anything, I know! I want to! Okay?" He looks at you sincerely, his big baby browns staring back at you.

"Okay," You reply defeatedly.

---

With your arm over his shoulders and his over yours, Eddie practically carries you into his trailer and into his room. "Ugh, Eddie, you need to clean in here,"

"I know, I know." He puts his hands up defensively as he stands over you. He's a bit out of breath from carrying you around. "Okay, first things first," He picks up a small trashcan and empties its contents out onto his floor, "Puke bucket," He says, handing it to you.

"Why did you dump out all that trash? That's gross,"

"You know you're very judgemental for someone who I watched unload their guts not even an hour ago,"

It's your turn to puts your hands up, "Okay, okay."

"Besides, if I knew you were coming over, I would have cleaned up the place, dolled myself up, the works."

You shake your head and laugh at that. Eddie returns your smile.

"Your humor's intact, that's good." He points at you with a goofy smile. "And since we here at Munson Medical are so..." He motions his hand in circles as he tries to think of the word, "Fuck, I don't know. All I know is, you're resting," He points at you. "And I'm cleaning."

---

True to his word, after you passed out from meds he gave you, Eddie had cleaned his room and part of the trailer as well. He had been meaning to do that for his uncle for a while and it seemed like a good time. Then he watched you sleep for a bit, a little paranoid at first that you might have died, and then quickly reassured by you turning over in his bed. Which was strange to think about. You in his bed. He tried not to let it fry his brain too much and opted to distract himself with LOTR. As he stopped every so often while reading, he wondered if you had read any of the books or even heard of them. Maybe he could read to you if you hadn't. Or you could read to him. He couldn't decide which would be better.

After a handful of chapters, you start to stir and soon enough you're stretching out like a cat before you curl back up into a ball again, eyes lazily moving over the room, and finally landing on Eddie's. "How long have I been out?" You ask before yawning.

"Two-ish hours," He gets up from the floor, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Wow, it's clean in here. You really work wonders, Munson."

Eddie's nose scrunches up at the name. "Don't call me that," He insists. "Can I sit closer?"

"Hey, it's your funeral if you get sick," You warn but he doesn't seem to care, haphazardly jumping closer.

He kicks his shoes off before turning and laying down the length of his bed, carefully setting your head on his chest. With his head just barely propped up by his worn pillow, he looks down at you and strokes your hair.

"Hey," You pipe up. "'m sorry you had to see that. My parents, they-"

"They're assholes," He fills in. "Letting a pretty boy like you stick it out as sick as you are."

You can't help but agree maybe not on the pretty part but still. "Yeah..." You look down so as to not meet his eyes. "I should have been straight with you about them. It's just that- It's hard, you know?"

Eddie nods. He understands a little too well. He was glad he had Wayne now. Maybe you could have Wayne too.

"And I'm sorry for being an asshole the whole time. I just didn't want you to see.. to know..."

"I know, sweetheart," He strokes your cheek with his thumb. "You don't have to worry about anything with me, okay? You got that?"

You nod and cover his hand with yours, intertwining your fingers. You close your eyes as a wave of tiredness hits you. "You're too sweet to me, Eds."

"Could never be. Not for you." He watches your eyes close and does his best not to move too much as he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. "Get some rest, pretty boy."

BONUS:

"Eddie, how in the hell do you burn soup?!" Wayne's incredulous yell bounces throughout the trailer but you can tell it's not of anger and rather absolute confusion.

Eddie looks at you and then back at his door before gently climbing out of bed, giving you a peck on the cheek, and rushing out the door. "Sorry, Uncle Wayne!" He sounds like a little boy and you can't help but laugh.

"Oh, what I am going to do with you, Ed?" Wayne brings Eddie in by the back of his head for a hug.

"Show me how to make soup?" Eddie looks at him hopefully.

Wayne sighs, "What kind of uncle would I be if I didn't?"

#murder writes #murder's requests #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson x male!reader #eddie munson x male! reader #eddie munson x m reader #eddie munson x m! reader #mr wayne munson ily <3 #eddie munson x reader

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