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dabisbratz · 2 years ago

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SOFTSPOT — aizawa shouta x male reader

w.c: 3.3k

a/n: alternatively titled: sonny projects onto a reader insert for 3k+ words straight i’ll never get used to writing dirty talk. got carried away.. whoops..

genitalia terms: cock, dick, hole, boypussy, cunt

WARNING: amab reader, praise, degradation, spitting, dirty talk, crybaby!reader, himbo!reader, fingering, anal, nipple play, chest mentions, use of the words ‘tits’ in a mocking manner, dumbification, mutual masterbation, sadism, humiliation, creampie

“Shooo!” You whine, purely instinctual as you shove impulsively purchased gym-mats, equipment, and protein powder into the trunk of your car. Your pro-hero boyfriend isn’t even there, probably off on patrol somewhere, but you can’t help but call for him when you need help…. Even if it’s with a simple task. He’d offered you some exclusive time to workout at U.A’s gym, even after hours, but you preferred the public ones. More motivation that way, you’d put it. Your bottom lip quivers, plump and pouty as you open a jar of discolored powder. You inhale strongly, handsome face distorting in disgust. Ah, well, at least someone else got some good money off it.

Sweat clings to your forehead, sticky on your skin and clinging embarrassingly to your chest, your sleeveless hoodie soaked. It’s a bit uncomfortable, nothing you can’t manage, just a little colder in the winter air.

The trunk of your car slams, loud as you childishly stomp over to the driver’s seat, despite already forgetting what you were so upset about. You don’t pull out of the gym parking lot just yet, instead opening your phone to see if your boyfriend had found the time to respond to your post-gym selfies. The messages remain on read, and you know Shouta would never ignore you, but your eyes can’t help but water from the neglect. You miss him.

So, like any sensible boyfriend, you call him.

Shouta is a capable man; capable of many things. He can swing through the streets of Japan in the blink of an eye— in his sleep, even. He can knock out a villain in record time, with nothing but his fists and maybe an afternoon nap. He can pick you up right where you stand, lift your legs over your head and fuck you like you weigh nothing. But a simple text back is too much?

It rings once, twice…..a few more times, before you finally hear the gruff voice you’ve been yearning for. Instantly, your mood changes, glassy eyes dry within seconds and a large, genuine smile spilling down your face as you glance at yourself in the rearview mirror. “Hello?”

“Sho-Chan!” You beam, loud enough for anyone within a ten mile radius to hear your excitement. Wiggling in your seat, you squeeze your cellphone between your shoulder and ear, starting the car and setting off to go home. Aizawa makes a sound at that, low in his throat and it rumbles in your ear. Damn, if only you kept your earbuds in! “I missed you… a lot!”

“An old man like me?” You frown in response, Shouta isn’t even old. You shake your head profusely, even if he can’t see you, completely missing the rustling sounds in the background of the call. “…Surely you’ve found someone your old age good enough for you at that gym you like so much.”

“Wha— Don’t even joke like that!” You huff, body lurching forward at the red light you almost forgot to stop at. So mean, always pushing your buttons. Your seatbelt is snug against your chest, dipping between the pillowy skin of your pecs. He’d never admit it aloud, but it was most definitely Shouta’s favorite body part of yours, squishy and soft and thick. He’s always touching you there, his large, pale hands digging into the skin until it hurts. He chuckles, hearty but breathless, like he’s preoccupied. You bite your lip, worried. “Uh, Sho?”

As capable as he is, Shouta is also a very weak man. He’s weak for puppy eyes, big and blown out and teary. He’s weak for warm hands, with nails that scratch his back and massage it the following morning after. He’s weak for pictures of you, all smiles and teeth. He’s weak for crying, the sound of hiccups and sobs leaving his pretty boys’ mouth while he tries to fit a cock in his needy holes.

He can see it now, your eyes widening with worry and concern, tears threatening to fall down your face, your eyebrows knitted as you stare at the road ahead of you. With a dragged out sigh, Aizawa groans, mocking as he says: “Sho-Chan’s gonna need your help, baby.”

“Oh!” You’re good at that— very good, even. You’re always eager to help, especially if you’re helping Shouta. It’s the least he deserves, after all. You straighten up in your seat, though you’re already nearing the reserved parking space in front of his house. Seriously, you add, “Anything, I promise. M’almost home.”

There’s a groan on the other side, a spark traveling down your spine and straight to your cock in response. You know that groan, reserved for handjobs and particularly sloppy blowjobs— like when Shouta holds your head in his hands and uses your throat, burying his cock down to the hilt, until all you can taste is him, your nose buried in his dark happy trail and and curly pubes. He’s always been a bit too big for your mouth, instead opting to slap his cock on your tongue or across your cheek when your jaw started aching too much.

“Mhm, bet you are… Waitin’ for Sho to tell you what to do, sweetheart?” You hum in affirmation almost immediately, unbuckling your seatbelt and hopping out the car with a much hastier pace. The cold, outside air makes the hair on your neck stand, your nipples hardening. “Such a good boy. Why don’t you play with your nipples while you tell him how your day was.”

You pause where you stand, eyes widening as your cock twitches in your sweatpants, straining against the fabric. In public, no less, making a distinct print in your pants as you try to cover your erection with one hand. You let out an incredulous laugh, frantically surveying the area as Shouta huffs in your ear. His request isn’t exactly that, more like a command— because you just can’t tell him no.

“I- I worked out a lot,” Switching hands between covering your dickprint and holding your phone, you swallow hard and nod to yourself. Your hand trails up your side, then to your chest, where you gently massage the plush skin of your pecs. Your middle finger gently— slightly, swirls around the sensitive bud of your nipple, a small whimper forming in the back of your throat. “Bought some, um… Um.. Protein powder.”

But you can’t just sit there, not when Shouta is almost right in front of you, his hands on your skin, his fingers inside you, his cock down his throat— he’s right there, just a few steps and a single lock away. And, God, how you hope he takes care of you when you get there. There’s a guttural noise in your ear before it’s briefly cut off. your phone vibrating in your hand as Shouta hangs up, the front door swinging open before you can even knock.

“These tits,” Is the first thing Sho’ says, slamming the door behind you until you’re trapped between it and his tall body. You want to protest, to whine and stomp your feet because they’re certainly not tits, but your need to please is much stronger. Instead, you whine, your head falling forward as you melt in his hands. His hands roam your chest, calloused palms pushing them together obscenely. You squirm, pouting. “Could play with them all day. Would you like that, hm?”

He knows you would.

“Hear how wet my dick is? Fuck, you don’t even know what you do to me,” He’s overwhelming your senses, his stubble brushing against your chest as he takes a perky bud into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. Shouta’s no stranger to using his mouth— in fact, you might just share an oral fixation in common. Your eyes flutter closed, your knees buckling as he licks a flat, long stripe over your sensitive nipple. “Going stupid on me already?”

You shake your head, your cheeks puffed out as he looks up at you through his dark lashes, his equally dark bangs obstructing his vision. You’re so cute, huffing and puffing quietly as a wet patch grows on your pants, right where your tip leaks through your boxers. Your natural smell is stronger, and your chest is still glowing with sweat from your workout.

“Sho, listen I–”

Shouta’s eyebrows furrow, his jaw setting as his other hand rolls your unoccupied nipple between his fingers. Your mouth snaps shut. Staring back at him is too much for you, his eyes darkening the more you make contact. You feel like prey, and Aizawa is the unrelenting predator.

You blink away, a startled gasp leaving your lips when his strong hand grips your jaw and sets your gaze back on him. His smile is devious, his canines sharp and glinting under the ceiling lights. You can’t hold onto anything around you, not the doorknob or the doorframe, so you settle for Shouta’s sleeve, ballling your hand into a fist as he flicks your nipples to watch your tits jiggle in response. So embarrassing!

“Look at that, sweet boy, letting me use you how I want, letting me take what I want. Good boy.”

Your body feels warm as you keen— scorching hot, even— while Shouta chuckles at the sight, purring low in his chest. You love making Shouta happy- you live for it, love blooming in your chest as you nod along. You’re a good boy! Shouta’s good boy! He said it himself! You could feel the rumble of his voice in your sternum, where he was hunched over before lowering himself to remove your shoes, your pants, your hoodie.

Your boxers are ruined, almost like you had cum in your pants before he even thought of touching your cock. He swats your shy hands away from your crotch, cooing as flustered tears well in your eyes. Even with the fat crystals threatening to spill he can see your cock jump, especially when it lands right atop your belly button, a trail of sticky precum correcting you to your underwear. Such a crybaby.

“Spit on it.”

“I— Spit?” You blink once, twice, three more times as you try to process the demand. Your cock throbs, unbearably needy, as you look down at it. When you glance back up Shouta looks expectant, but patient as he watches you connect the dots. He does it first, untucking himself from his pants to spit down on his palm, then rubbing said spit into his big, veiny cock.

Ah.

It’s more pathetic than anything, your lips parting as you spit down on your cock. It’s more akin to drool, a long trail of spit slowly trailing down your lips and chin until it pools at your head. Wet and slick, your fingers twitch as you wrap your hand around your dick, toying with the slit just like Sho’ does. It feels better with his hands though, and you sigh impatiently. No one does it like he does,

“Need…need your hand.”

You need a lot of Shouta’s things these days. You need his fingers, deep inside your hole while he toys with your chest. You need his hand, warm and right and too good when he fists your cock. You need his dick, thick and barely able to pass the rim of your hole. It hits every spot just right, so big and so deep, sometimes accompanied by Shouta’s thumb if you’re feeling extra greedy. You need him to make decisions for you, when you’re too cockdrunk to remember your words. When you’re too stupid to decide anything for yourself.

You’re sure you’re crying by now— it feels like it, you can feel wet streaks on your face as Shouta takes his cock in his hand and rubs it against his own, heads squelching together and precum mixing together as you keen into his touch. His other hand, less dominant, reaches your neck, holding you steady against the door as you rut into his hand like a puppy. You hear yourself choke on a moan, a strangled and pathetic sound that has Aizawa’s dick twitching against yours. Loud and wet, your head falls back against the door with a quiet thump, much to your hero’s amusement.

There’s too much warmth; his hands, his fingers, his cock. You’re nodding along to nothing, eyes darting everywhere and nowhere all at once. Your body pulses, long strokes to your cock making you whine pitifully. Aizawa’s pupils are blown wide, his pink tongue darting over his equally pink lips as he watches you crumble in his hands, leaning into the hand around your throat. It snakes down your chest, lower against your belly button, and around your waist.

At this rate you’re going to explode.

His big, long fingers reach your ass, kneading the plush skin between fingers. You can feel him pulling your cheeks apart, his hands greedy and strong and harsh, when he lets go to place a hard smack to the exposed skin. Shouta laughs when you whine in return, squirming when he grabs your hip so hard it hurts.

You try so hard, proud of yourself as you try to warn Shouta of what’s coming next, of the cum about to shoot straight across your stomach, it takes every ounce of self control you have to scrape together the words you want to say— you have to say. His tight, wet grip has your toes curling, your balled fists reaching up for the dark bundles of hair draped along Aizawa’s shoulders. His middle finger, inching closer and closer to your rim.

“Oh, fuckfuckfuck, m’gonna cum, waitwait, Shooo.”

“Mmm, hold on, sugar. Gonna get one out of you with my fingers in this cunt,” There’s something cold and sleek pressed against your taint, gradually warming up the more it circles your rim. There’s nowhere for you to go— forward is into Shouta’s arms, your cocks bumping together lewdly, backward are his fingers; long, thick, calloused and deep. You let out another hiccup, going with the latter of the two as his finger disappears inside you. Grunting along. Shouta’s fingers reach impossibly deep inside you first try, your hole swallowing him up with little resistance. “Did you fuck yourself before you got home? Shoved those needy fingers in your hole because you missed Sho-chan’s big dick pulsing inside your hole? T’aww.”

“Uh-huh, mhm, yeah,” Another mindless, breathless nod while in the back of your head you find yourself pouting. It’s not a cunt and you certainly don’t find that phrase hot at all! You move to nuzzle your forehead against his stubble, moaning out tiny sounds with each brush to your prostate. Shouta lets you drool on his shoulder, eyes squeezed right as you buck your hips into his. You’re sobbing into his ear, thighs trembling against the door as he spreads your cheeks apart, and cool air meets your hole. “Hmmph..”

“Turn around for me, show me where Daddy fucks you. Where his dick goes.” That’s a new one. But he’s right, it’s a perfect fit— even if it needs some prep. He fills you up just right, keeps you stuffed on his cock till all you can do is whine and cry, bounces you up and down until you’re both satisfied. You’re in love.

So you turn, dizzy and wobbly on your legs and unabashedly eager to be good for your lover. He keeps you upright if anything, basically manhandling you until you’re where he wants you, back arched against the door and your cheek squished below the peep-hole. Your hands travel down your chest, down to your hips where they swerve back, palms resting on the swell of your ass. A hungry, animalistic grin graces Shouta’s lips as he watches you spread your cheeks apart once more, the puffy hole winking back at him. You try to smile at him, messy-faced and dopey.

Cute.

There’s more spit now than you remember, warm and sloppy as Shouta rubs it into your hole. Your cock strains painfully, desperate for release, but somehow your overwhelming need to feel full is stronger. And full you’ll be, as Aizawa’s balls tighten, his cock sliding across the crack of your ass, then around your hole. There’s an obscene smack of the head against your rim, then the sound of Shouta sucking in a deep breath through his teeth.

“Shh. Let me in, let me in, baby.” His dick enters slowly, making you sniffle in response. You try your hardest to relax, to sit still and let Sho’ take you how he wants, but you can’t help it. He presses into your hole like he owns it, deep and heavy as his thighs meet the bottom of your backside.

“Take it like you were made for me.”

His balls slap against your own slow, at first, then quickly and sporadically increasing in speed at the expense of your throat. It’s almost like he’s fucking you there too, deep enough that you can taste his precum at the very back of your tongue. His strong arms wrap around your body, hands squeezing your large chest while you bat your wet eyelashes.

“Fuuck, you take it so well. Love watching that greedy fuckin’ hole suck me in. So fuckin’ wet n’ sloppy, ugh, such a good pocketpussy.”

Your rut against the door, pounding against it with each forward thrust, your cock threatening to spurt any second. Shouta’s grumbling something in your ear, something you can’t make out through the foggy haze, but you feel yourself tighten up in response anyway. You babble through your tears, wailing loud and incoherent and something along the lines of ‘I’m Sho’s good boy,’ but who’s keeping track.

“Too— hmm.. I can't.” Shouta’s hand caresses your cheek, curling into a lazily formed fist as he gently knocks a knuckle (though it’s more like the fat of his hand) against your forehead. He makes a sly comment about how hollow and empty your head sounds, a dark and rich laugh erupting from his mouth.

“S’it too much, honey? My dick’s just too much for that tiny little hole,” Your cock jumps against your tummy, twitching until it can’t anymore, cum shooting straight out your tip until you’re drooling on the door, eyes rolled behind your head as Shouta continues using you— you’d only gotten tighter, after all. “That’s too bad. Come on— you can take it, let me stuff it full. Bet you’re so proud of yourself too. Proud of that slutty fuckin’ boypussy.”

Your toes curl, thigh muscles clenching tight as Aizawa keeps you upright, lifting your boneless body up and down, his cock disappearing inside you. Even as he pulls out, your body pulls him right back in. But he’s clearly reaching his limit, his dick pulsating inside you with vigor as he spurts a thick, sticky load inside you around your rim.

He pulls out completely with a hiss, watching his cum slowly trickle out, thick globs collecting at the back of your thighs. He’s the only thing holding you up, your strong legs suddenly jello in his grasp. You make no effort to move, letting him manhandle you onto the couch. His hands are warm in contrast to the wet cloth you don’t remember him grabbing, but it feels good and cool against your skin.

“Sho-Chan..” You whine, not nearly as high in your throat as your moans. “Kiss me.”

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luvrxbunny · 1 year ago

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float

Pairing: Steve Harrington x F!Reader

Prompt: Cockwarming

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, outdoor sex, a little bit of hair pulling, piv, unprotected sex (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 2.4k

A/N: i just realized this one is also poolside hahaha- also lets not talk about the physics of this float

Steve’s never felt more content in his life. He’s floating around his parent’s pool with you on him and him in you. It was your idea, you’d noticed how beautiful it was outside, how perfect the weather was, and woke him up immediately. You were throwing his swimming trunks at him and shouting your plans as you wiggled into your bikini. Steve- still half-asleep- got to watch you change into your bikini, basically posing for him as you tie it behind your head. He was already hard- morning wood- but you were just making it worse. He whined and begged for you to help him, to postpone your plans for tomorrow and take care of him now.

Unfortunately, he can’t help but give you what you want, so when you gave him your prettiest puppy dog eyes and explained that you didn’t want to risk the weather taking a turn- he reluctantly got out of bed and pulled on his trunks. Your beaming smile made it worth it, as long as he ignored the throbbing. You squealed at him that you would put together a little picnic basket for the day by the pool while he went to brush his teeth, and maybe splash some water on his face to calm himself down.

He can hear you singing and humming to yourself downstairs- not at all helping his situation. He groans to himself before heading down and watching you twirl around the kitchen, grabbing various snacks and drinks, your coverup trailing behind you almost mystically, making you look like a fairy. He has to dig the heel of his palm into his dick to calm himself down.

You turn and jump at his presence in the doorway. “Steve! Hi! Uh, do you guys have any like- floaties that you can lay down on? You know? Like the human-sized ones?” He’s smiling fondly at you as you try and explain yourself. Pride is filling his chest, it’s silly really- it’s just that he does have a few of those but he can think of one you’ll really love and he can’t wait to see the look on your face. Whenever he does something that shocks you, something that’s so amazing you’d never see it coming, you look at him in this way that makes him sure he’s going to marry you someday.

“I know what you’re talking about, baby.” He smiles at the way your face lights up at being understood. “Oh! Awesome! Do you have any of those?” He nods at you and heads to the garage, listening to your happy humming resume and the fridge open.

It takes him a bit to find it but almost runs back to you once he does. It’s a big box so he’s holding it behind his back as best he can. He clears his throat and holds back a laugh at the way you jump. “Ready, baby?” He asks and you nod, confused. He slowly brings it around and your face immediately breaks out into a smile. He doesn't know how to describe your face, it’s like someone was able to capture pure sunshine into an expression, like you’ve seen a unicorn or a talking cat. “What?! No way! Steve, why didn’t you tell me you had this!”

You snatch the box from him and his face is turning pink at your excitement. “I forgot I had it, honestly.” His hand is scratching the back of his neck with a nervous smile. You put the box down and place your hands on your hips, with an accusatory glare. “You just forgot that you have a person-floaty, shaped like a car, with little seats, and a roof?!” He’s laughing at your outrage as you walk toward him slowly, punctuating your points with steps to him.

Once you’re in front of him all your fake anger melts away to that expression again, making his heart skip a beat. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck and slowly pull him in for a soft, chaste but dizzying kiss. You press your lips to his so softly and hold him there for a little bit. When you pull away you have a hazy smile on your face. “Thank you, Stevie.”

He takes a deep breath as he’s reminded of the throbbing in his pants. “I mean- I didn’t do anything.” Your smile widens then morphs into a smirk as you pull away. “No, I guess you didn’t” You’re already turned around, heading back to your basket when you say it but Steve can already hear the smile on your face. He scoffs and takes the basket for you once you close it, pressing a kiss to the top of your head in the process.

You set up a few snacks and drinks inside the floaty and Steve holds your hand to help you get in. Your hands are on his shoulders, helping him into the shaking float. “I think I’m too heavy, babe.” He says after almost falling over, again. You try not to giggle and shake your head, too concentrated on keeping the float from tipping over as you pull Steve in. He makes a little jump and is finally in the float, you pull a little too hard and he ends up falling on you, your neck strength being the only thing keeping your head from dipping into the water. You’re both giggling in each other's faces before Steve leans in to kiss you, swallowing your last few giggles before kissing him back.

There are different ways you kiss him, when you’re sad, when you’re tired, when you’re drunk or high, needy, happy, or excited. The way you’re kissing him now is his favorite though, it’s like you’re pouring your love into him, like he can feel it radiating off of you. He loves that you love him, that you’re eager and open to all the love he has to give you. He pulls away from you and takes a slow breath as he’s reminded of the painful throbbing. You giggle and press one last kiss to his lips before pushing at his chest softly, and he lifts off of you. You scoot to the back and push the last piece of the float off the pavement, sending you guys off into the pool.

You turn around with a smile. “Isn’t this nice?!” Nothing has really happened yet but you’re so happy about it, so excited for his feedback. “It’s incredible, baby. So peaceful.” You smile wider and look down shyly before making your way over to him. You know he’s being nicer than necessary to indulge you, but the fact that he cares enough to even do that makes your heart flutter. He settles himself against the backrest of the float, testing its strength and a surprised smile makes its way to his face when he finds it can actually hold his weight. He puts his sunglasses on and rests back. He hears you rummaging around next to him, he assumes you’re getting a snack or something but instead, you’re climbing over him. Your crotch places itself over the bulge he had just managed to start ignoring.

His stomach tenses and his hands shoot to your hips, lifting them slightly to help him cope. You’re wearing an evil smile as you lean forward, resting yourself on his chest with your hips still lifted in the air, and your hands undo his trunks. His breath is speeding up, already working to a pant as you pull his shorts down a bit, the most you can without him lifting his hips. His hands are still gripping yours, flexing and tensing rhythmically as he tries to calm down. “What-”

He already sounds breathless and he can’t even finish his question. He doesn’t know what he’s asking, he doesn't want to question anything and you stop. You look up at him with an amused smile as you pull him out, pull your bikini to the side, and sink down on him with a moan. His head falls back and you rest your head on his chest, letting him know what was going to be happening here.

After Steve took your virginity, you quickly discovered you just like having him in you, just the thought of your boyfriend being inside you, so you began cockwarming him at every opportunity. To be fair, he did tell you that you had free-range over his body to get you more comfortable with exploring him and things with him. So if you ever noticed his lap was empty, or he didn't need to lean over it to do something, you’d pounce. You’d just stay in his lap for hours at a time, letting him leak and throb inside you. Steve has no problem with it, he thinks it’s perfect in every aspect. He loves the romance, the intimacy of it, and how desperate it gets you, how you get into that pliant, reliant mindset. The only reason he’s panicking about you cockwarming him right now is because he’s been needing you since he woke up and he can already feel you drifting to sleep.

You’re a sleepy girl, it’s adorable until situations like this, Steve has no clue how long you’ll be sleeping for and he’d never wake you up. He can already feel your pussy drooling on him, sliding down his balls, forcing a shiver up his spine. He tries to relax his muscles, to calm down but you’re shifting around a bit, tightening around him with every movement. He looks up at the roof of the ‘car’ and prays you wake up soon.

-----------

You blink awake to a high-pitched noise, over and over. You’re still groggy, eyes squinting at the bright outdoors. You lift your head from Steve’s chest, your cheek sticking to him for a moment before you try to sit up, only to be met with a shouting moan and a hand gripping your hips so hard you’re scared they’ll break. Your eyes finally clear along with your head and you remember the situation you're in, the way you’re stretched around Steve, covering him in your slick for… hours? You can’t tell how long it’s been but Steve’s entire body is red with blush, his hands are shaking on your hips and he’s keeping his eyes clenched shut. A little whimper is pushing from his throat with every huff of air that falls from his lips. You can see his stomach tensing as it pushes the air from him, his adam’s apple is bobbing as he swallows his moans.

You lean down slowly, watching his face contort at the way your walls slide around him. You keep your face right in front of his, testing to see if he’ll open his eyes but he doesn’t, in fact, he shuts them tighter. You giggle at him softly and press your lips into his, a little smile breaking through when he instantly kisses you back with a moan, his hand leaving your hip to cup the side of your face. He’s pulling you closer to him, bringing his other hand up to press against the back of your head, keeping you pressing against his lips as his hips begin to thrust into you on their own. He lets out a shocked moan at his own movements and you pull away gently, shaking your head at his still-shut eyes.

“Are you okay, baby?” You ask him in the sweetest tone you can conjure and watch his eyebrows twitch and his hands fly to your hips again, gripping them as though you were the one moving his dick inside you. You kiss the apple of his cheek lightly and pull your hips forward, slowly grinding on him. His cock slides deeper into you as your clit rubs against his curls, a gasp falling from both of your lips into the mouth of the other.

His hands slide from your hips, up your back, gripping your shoulders to fuck himself deeper, kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock. You whine into his hair, gripping it as hard as you can to ground yourself. Steve lets out an aching groan into your shoulder as you lift yourself up to let him fuck into you as much as he wants. His hips instantly start snapping into yours, you’re both moaning much louder than you should be, considering you’re out in the open but you just can’t. You’re fueled by his desperation, by his volume, and the way he sounds.

His name becomes the only sound that can fall from your lips, repeating it into his hair every time his dick moves inside you. His moans grow more insistent, more breathy and he pulls his head from your shoulder, finally looking at you. You immediately tilt his head up and kiss him with all you have, pouring every emotion you have into it- into him. He whines your name into your lips as his eyes roll back and you pull away, admiring the view. “Gonna cum-” His words sound choked up and strained, his lips trembling as he speaks. His hand unwraps from your shoulder and presses your forehead to his, moaning against you and surrounding himself in your sounds.

“I’m gonna cum, baby- love. I need- cum around me, sweetheart, cum on me please.” His moans, his pleas for you, push you over the edge. Your hands pull his hair tightly, before stroking over his scalp and pull his head to your chest as you convulse over him. Your pussy is like a vice around him, he feels like you might crush his dick inside you, and his hips stutter into yours. “Can I cum inside? Can- fuck, please. Inside? Can I?” You nod aggressively against him and he floods your inside immediately.

He swears he sees heaven, his eyes roll back into his skull, thighs tense and his toes curl as his voice is stolen from him. His mouth is making the shapes of your name over and over but nothing comes out. His head slowly falls back and one- two ropes pump into you before he crashes. All his moans fly out of him, his chest delating as his debauched sounds release into the air, letting more ropes of his cum fly into you, mixing with your juices and filling you to the brim. You whine his name deliriously, telling him how good he feels, how nice you feel. “Such a good boyfriend, Steve.” You pulse around him with a shiver. “I love you s’much.” Your eyes close and you rest your head on his shoulder. He places his head on top of yours, kissing it and mumbling one more thing before drifting off with you. “I love you more, baby.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works, and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

#steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #why arent there more Steve Harrington tags?

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creedslove · 9 months ago

Note

I'm thinking about you often and wish you peace and quiet ♥️ even if we don't talk much, I consider you as a friend and I care about you.

What about Joel and his wife not talking, they have some quiet days. Wife is not happy, because Joel is not helping around the house and being busy at work, Joel forgot about her birthday. After he got home from work, his wife was like... gone.

He was going crazy, because she was not answering the phone, and it was late already. When she finally returned home, he was asking where she was, and it turned out, she was spending time with her friends, because they celebrated her birthday that Joel forgot about.

"Joel, do you even love me? I'm not angry, I'm just little tipsy and sad. Do you want divorce? Because I see we are not doing so well nowadays. I love you, but you are not loving me back, don't you?"

Joel is shocked and little angry. How his wife, most important person on earth for him, can think stuff like that. He loves her, he loves her so deeply, but he is not willing to admit that.

"you say dumb things, you are drunk, go to bed." Results in weeping and sniffles.

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: thank you thank you thank you honey, I love you so much you have no idea how much better your ask made me feel, your words are so sweet. I consider you my friend too, you're incredible honey 💕😘 love you 💋🫂

Also, this ask being so close to my bday (2 weeks from now) hit differently, so I'll change it just slightly to fit an idea I'd been working on, if it's okay? Love you 💕

INSPIRED BY THE SONG: I hate this part - Pussycat Dolls

• Joel grinded his teeth as he focused on the road; it was dark, raining and hard to see and he couldn't be angrier to be out so late at night having to pick you up from a night out with your friends; you knew he had work the next morning, so why did you do that to him? Not to mention the ugly stare you were giving him, which caused him to groan again

• you on the other hand, couldn't believe his nerve to give you shit like that, what was he even thinking about? You didn't know if Joel was acting up to punish you or if he had literally forgotten about it, it annoyed you to death, but annoyed wasn't really the right word, it angered you, because you never dreamed your husband could be that insensitive towards you

• Joel was driving faster than usual, he gripped the steering wheel and you could tell his knuckles were white, you sighed and looked out the window, disbelief growing as Joel wasn't going to say anything at. all. it was just so unfair of his reaction, considering he was the one acting up like a major asshole and not the other way around

• it hurt and angered you, he had no right to treat you like that, especially not after he was doing, he had no right to do so and when he ignored you a couple of times you called his name, you had enough

"stop the car, Joel!"

"what? No, I'm not gonna stop it"

"stop the car right now Joel, do it or I'll open this door!!!"

• you raised your voice at him, something you had never done it, but at that moment, it didn't matter, he'd pushed your buttons and you didn't want to be around him at all

"STOP THE FUCKING CAR!"

• you yelled again, and he finally pulled over, there were still a few blocks until you got home, but you didn't care, you got out of the car slamming the door behind you and didn't look back, it baffled you what a jerk Joel was really being, it didn't make any sense to you

• Joel on the other hand was so angry, he couldn't even word how pissed off you made him feel at that moment, he parked the car and went after you, groaning at how stubborn you were being

• it didn't take very long for him to reach you and grab your arm, pulling you closer

"what the fuck are you doing?!"

"it's my birthday you asshole! My fucking birthday and you forgot about it! Or you simply don't care about me to the point of not saying anything... Does it make any sense now that I was out celebrating? Because my fucking boyfriend couldn't remember"

• you said just as angrily, you were tired of Joel acting up as if he was the right one and not you; you broke free from his grip and walked away, you didn't want anything to do with that man at that moment

• Joel was shocked, his heart shattered at his own insensitivity and shook his head; he'd indeed forgotten about it, he'd just been so absorbed and stressed about work it simply slipped away from his mind

• but it didn't matter, he knew how bad it was and how deeply he'd hurt you and Joel wasn't going to forgive himself just as he knew you wouldn't forgive him either

• he asked you to wait, he needed to apologize and see what he could do to make things better: perhaps there was still time to take you out for dinner? Maybe the malls were still open and you could pick a present for yourself?

• but it wasn't as simple as he thought, when he asked you what he could do to redeem himself, all you did was shake your head and sigh

"there's nothing to be done, Joel... About this or about us... I think we should break up"

• you said and began walking away from him, at that moment, you and Joel couldn't be together anymore, it broke your heart but it was what you had to do

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons

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taintedcigs · 1 year ago

Text

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER FIVE: STRUCK A MATCH AND BLEW YOUR MIND

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✦ summary: in which you decide to reveal everything at brunch and chaos ensues. (wc: 8.3k+)

✦ warnings — ANGST!!, like this one is really angsty buckle up! argument </33, yelling, crying, mentions of an ab*sive relationship, it is not detailed by they talk A LOT about it, mentions of bruises, some trauma/making fun of trauma, chrissy being super mean and omfg reader is PETTY, jealousy, pining and slowburn, strong language!, mentions of alc*hol and drg use and a toxic/ab*sive relationship, food!!, steve is silly luv him

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader, eddie munson x chrissy cunningham, nancy wheeler x jonathan byers

✦ authors note — ngl this was fun to write LMAO but so hellish to edit JFC IM FINALLY DONE!! a few songs i listened to while i wrote this chapter are; liar by paramore, rwylm by taylors swift, and lover you should've come over by jeff buckley. need to add all those to the playlist asap !! also feel free to chat with me in the asks abt this series (and anything tbh) pls!! and not proof-read pls ignore mistakes!!

series masterlist | series playlist

Counting cobblestones was your best distraction from Robin’s loud groans and the noises her dress made as she stretched it further and further. The sun streamed through the both of you, causing you to squeeze your eyes lightly.

“Would you let my poor dress go?” You warned without turning to her, hand having a harsh grip on the gin bottle you were afraid of dropping.

“I can’t, it’s itching!” She groaned, harshly scratching her chest.

“Why’d you even ask to borrow a dress if you hated wearing them so much?” You threw her a look.

"I wanted to look presentable! But now, I think I’d rather wear a trash bag than ever be this uncomfortable again,” she said through gritted teeth, following you to the doorstep.

You giggled, “But you know what?” you turned to her with a smile, “You look super pretty in that dress, Robs,” you winked teasingly, earning a groan from her as your hand shakily pressed onto the red doorbell, careful not to drop the bottle that was in your grip.

A few rumbles were overheard before Steve swiftly opened the door, leaning against the doorframe as he gave the two of you a look, both of you in your sundress, while you held the bottle in your hand like a prized possession and Robin was still scratching her neck. “About damn time, I was starting to think you guys forgot where I lived!” He said teasingly, causing you to narrow your gaze.

“Whatever happened to hello? Hi? I missed you, my bestest friend, Pinky!” You exaggerated dramatically, “Oh and you totally look so much better than that traitor sitting in my living room,” you spat snarkily, perfectly imitating a bitchy Steve.

“You know about that?” Steve asked, and you were quick to nod. “Oh, thank fucking god! I did not want to be the one to tell you,” he sighed a breath of relief, a gesture you met with a roll of your eyes.

Steve quickly changed his tone to flattery. “Have I told you how much I missed you, sweetheart?” he said with exaggerated sweetness, “Oh, and you look so pretty!” He continued with an amplified smile, “so much better than that traitor sitting in my living room.” He hummed, covering his mouth sideways, so childlike that it had you giggling.

Amid the banter, Robin, still visibly uncomfortable, impatiently broke in. “Okay, doofus, are you gonna let us in?” She groaned and brushed past the two of you, making her way to the familiar kitchen.

“Hello to you too, Rob!” Steve responded with a chuckle, before closing the door and guiding you both to the cozy kitchen.

Once inside, Steve couldn't help but ask, “So, what have you got there, P?” His eyes locked on the gin bottle in your hand.

With an excited gleam in your eye, you presented it proudly. “A party gift,” you said with a grin, shaking it gently in front of Steve's face before he took it from you.

"For breakfast?" Steve asked with a huff and a raised eyebrow.

“We’re going to make breakfast martinis!” Robin chimed in excitedly, her eyes lighting up as she grabbed two elegant cocktail glasses she'd found in Steve's well-stocked kitchen. The crystal-clear glasses made a chiming sound when she set them down harshly.

“You guys have a problem,” he joked, leaning against the kitchen counter while he eyed the way you hurriedly searched for something in his fridge.

“Says the guy who used to shotgun five beers like it was nothing,” you scoffed behind the fridge door. A shushed ‘Yes!’ escaped from your lips when you acquired lemons and a bottle of orange juice from the fridge's depths.

“And that is not how you make a breakfast martini,” he playfully groaned, stealing your ingredients away from you. Your pout was met with a playful eye roll.

“Oh-kay, fancy pants,” Robin mocked, making you snort with her easy banter.

Steve couldn't help but ask, genuine concern etching his brow, “You sure you’re okay?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, but they both eyed your expressions curiously, almost as if you were a ticking time bomb.

“Oh, c'mon, you two!” You brushed it off, trying to shift the focus.

“We’re just worried about you is all,” Robin added, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. Her fingertips were warm against your skin, concern washed over her face.

“It’s perfectly normal to not be okay, you know,” Steve reassured you, his voice gentle. “I mean, it must be hard coming back here after everything-”

“Well, I’m fine, Steve,” you replied a bit more sharply than you intended, guilt settling in your stomach quickly. Steve's comforting stance somehow allowed your emotions to spill out more freely.

“It’s-it’s just such a fucking gut punch that he brought her here, you know?” The frustration in your voice was palpable, tone heavy with pain.

“I know, I know,” Steve empathized, both of them stood by your side, hands resting on both of your shoulders, comedically protective.

“Want me to beat him up?” Steve said with a serious gaze, hands forming into fists as he playfully punched the air. You and Robin erupted in giggles, as Robin elbowed him playfully, “I think she needs someone better at fights to protect her, you know?” She narrowed her gaze.

“Ow!” Steve dramatically gasped, “Rude!” He pouted. “Thank you, my knight in shining armor, but I’ll be fine." You snatched the gin bottle, moving on to the task at hand – preparing the breakfast martinis as you poured the clear liquid into the glass.

“I’m more worried about your health there,” he hummed, pointing toward the generous amount of gin you poured into your glass.

“Jesus, when did you become such a priss, King Steve?” Robin mocked further before he gave the two of you a look.

“I don’t like you two together,” he huffed, hand gesturing between the two of you dramatically, “so mean,” he said, tone exaggerated, and slumped playfully, pretending to be defeated.

“Aww, come on, Stevie,” you pouted, “I missed ya,” with a hum, you gave him a quick, affectionate squeeze in a tight hug. Steve responded with a theatrical cough causing you to roll your eyes.

“What have you been up to? I listened to Robin’s work crush, the whole fucking way…” You enunciated dramatically, drawing a teasing reaction from Robin, who exclaimed, “Hey!” in response.

“Can you believe her name is Lily? Lily… that’s so pretty, she’s so pretty… Like a flower. I mean her hair is so soft, I-I mean it seems soft I never like touched it or anything, that would be creepy-” You mimicked Robin and her fast-talking, and she stuck her tongue at you childishly.

“Is doofusness contagious? I feel like you’ve been standing too close to Steve.” She mocked with a smirk, taking a jab at both of you, but more so Steve as she leaned against the counter cooly.

“You’re quick with the comebacks today, Rob, jeez!” You praised, turning back to Steve who was disregarding the two of you with a shake of his head.

Robin winked at you, before snatching the bottle from Steve’s hand to make herself a drink. “So… Stevie, what about you?” You hummed, leaning in with a curious expression.

“How’s work?”

A proud smile spread across Steve's face as he said, “I got a promotion.”

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed, genuine excitement dancing in your eyes. “Steve, that’s amazing!” His frown had your brows furrowed, “why are you not excited?” You pouted.

“You remember Adam?” He huffed, “the guy from accounting?” Your brows quirked up in intrigue, Steve was quick to nod.

“He turned out to be a douche,” with a scoff, he leaned further on the courter, his muscles flexing with irritation. “What?” You asked with a frown, “but you said it was getting serious?”

“Yeah, I guess I was wrong, I dunno,” He shrugged, wanting to seem nonchalant but it was obvious he was hurt.

Your face fell quickly, “well, what about that other girl you met in the grocery store?” You asked hopefully, nudging him slightly.

“Didn’t even call me back,” Steve huffed, and you couldn't help but pout at his apparent string of bad luck.

“Stevie…”

“I dunno what’s wrong with me,” Steve admitted, his voice laced with self-doubt.

Your heart ached at his insecurity, and you couldn't help but reassure him. “What? Nothing is wrong with you! Are you kidding?”

“These people sound like the problem to me!” You exclaimed, “I mean look at you! A nice boy with a good job, and that hair? So soft!” you giggled, hand ruffling with his perfectly made hair, which he would usually yell at you for, but now he just looked at you with the most puppy dog eyes. “Harrington, you’re the whole goddamn package.”

“You mean that?” He sounded so insecure, and innocent, that your stomach was quick to drop, knowing that Steve doubted himself like this.

“Of course!” you reassured with a pat on his back, “fuck both of them! I’ll get you something to drink.” You winked.

“Please let me make it,” Steve replied with a hint of mischief, narrowing his gaze playfully. “In fact, I’ll make both of you a proper drink,” he emphasized.

“Fine, pretty boy.”

“Rob,” he called out to her with a tilt of his head “Orange liquor, please?”

Robin looked at him with a puzzled look, “am I supposed to know where that is?”

A tad exasperated, Steve pointed to a spot on the counter. “Right there on the counter, Rob. Jesus, you never let me look cool.”

“Don’t worry pretty boy, you don’t need her to make you look cool.” You winked teasingly, hand gently placed on Steve’s shoulder to give him a reassuring squeeze, causing Robin to snort behind you as you elbowed harshly to shush her.

Of fucking course, that’s when they decided to come into the kitchen, you could hear Chrissy’s annoying giggles before you saw her, and Eddie’s face dropped the second he saw the two of you. And all you could focus on was how close they were standing next to each other, Chrissy’s shoulder brushing against his.

You felt sick again.

Eddie cleared his throat, the laughter in the room dying with it. His sour face grew hot because he heard your compliments to Steve, saw the smiles you gave him, and your hand on his arm.

Insecure thoughts were quick to race through his mind, why was your hand on his arm? And pretty boy? You used to call him that. And him only.

His thoughts should have driven him closer to Chrissy, to make you more jealous, to have that satisfaction, but all it did was leave a bitter taste in his mouth, another lump he couldn’t swallow, and he stepped a bit back away from her unintentionally.

“Hi!” Chrissy beamed, and your eyes squinted with her voice, the urge to roll your eyes, and confront her right now was strong.

None of you answered her, it was awkward, pretty fucking awkward that even Robin’s cheshire cat smile didn’t save the room, Eddie speaking up did.

“You- uh got any water, Harrington?” It was supposed to be a joke, but the way it rolled out of his jealous lips made him sound bitter as if he was pissed at him.

Steve, taken aback by Eddie's sudden change in attitude, raised an eyebrow and responded, “Yeah?” He pointed toward the refrigerator, offering some bottled water.

Annoyance seeped through you as they stood there, prickling like a knife through your skin, your gaze narrowed as you tried to avoid looking at them, but it was awkward, so fucking awkward.

Eddie was quick to take a sip from the bottle, the entire room filled with silence as his gaze never faltered on you, “you got any notes for me?” Eddie said cooly, leaning onto the fridge, Chrissy by his side.

It was aimed at you, and you totally would’ve missed it if every eye in the room didn’t turn to you. You furrowed your brows in confusion, trying to deflect the attention. "Huh?"

Eddie’s demeanor changed at your confusion, almost like his confidence wore off the second he realized you might not have read it. “The note, you said you’d review it?” His voice held emotion, you could hear it, a pang of insecurity along with betrayal, but you didn’t want to talk about this, and you didn’t want to talk about it in front of her.

“No.” You lied through your teeth, swallowing the lump in your throat when you finally looked at him, like really, really looked at him.

He looked tired, with dark circles surrounding his eyes, hair even messier than usual, his lips cracked, and you could smell the nicotine off of him, even though he was halfway across the room.

And there was a slight shift in the way he held himself when you told him you didn’t read it, his tongue rolling inside of his cheek in a sour manner before he straightened up. “Typical,” he spat, he didn’t mean to, it was more supposed to be his inner voice, but he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t help the way he felt insecure when he saw you standing next to Steve, and he couldn’t help but show how much you not reading the note shattered him.

“Excuse me?” You scoffed, the air in the room getting tense, Steve and Robin pretending to be distracted while continuing to make a drink, Robin’s clumsy clatters serving as a noisy backdrop.

“What does that mean?” You asked calmly, maybe it wasn’t as calm as you intended it to be, but he really had the nerve to come for you when he didn’t even realize he was the one who was in the wrong.

“It means that I wouldn’t have expected anything more from you,” he spat out like he was your enemy, and it hurt, it fucking hurt that he saw you as someone that careless as if you didn’t read the entire note the whole night, as if you didn’t fall asleep to Aurora playing in the background. As if he knew anything.

Your anger flared, and you couldn’t help yourself, “What the actual fuck is your problem?” Your voice raised, and you straightened yourself, taking a step closer to them as both Robin and Steve’s heads snapped toward your direction, wanting to interrupt, but Chrissy got to it first.

“Okay, I don’t think we should-” Her screeching voice grated your ears.

With that, your attention turned to her, head cocking in a sharp gesture of anger, “stay out of it,” you warned, both Steve and Robin watched you in full force, almost looking like they wanted to cheer you on.

Chrissy turned to Eddie as if she was asking for him to say something back to you, but Eddie’s gaze remained on you, unable to process anything else.

She took a step closer, her head slightly tilted to the side, “Oh, come on, take a chill pill, Pinky,” she gave you a smile, it wasn’t warming, it wasn’t genuine, you could see right through her. This was her catty smile.

And it almost triggered something in you—the way her head tilted, her hand on her hips, the ‘take a chill pill’ line, it was something you recognized all too well.

The same phrase, that same annoying octave, and the same hand on her hips when she first “accidentally” started the rumor that you had kissed Eddie—granted, it wasn’t a rumor. It was true, you had kissed Eddie while you and Billy were on a break, but you told her that in confidence, and she broke your trust. Yet, like an idiot, you believed her when she said it was an accident, and that someone must have overheard the two of you talking.

Once Billy found out about the rumors, he barely let you breathe, not only did the fights get more amped up and violent, but he also isolated you from your friends, and mostly Eddie. You didn’t put the pieces together that Chrissy caused the rumor until much later.

Then, at Steve’s party, the same smile, and that same phrase, like you hadn’t caught her with Billy in the bathroom minutes ago.

And now, she was doing it again, you assumed it was on purpose, or at least it all felt like it was on purpose. And it boggled your mind how quickly she made Eddie believe she was a nice person. Because she wasn’t, and even if she was, your friendship was beyond salvageable now.

You decided to take a step closer to her, Steve and Robin both jumping on their feet, afraid of what might happen. But you had no intention of doing anything, or even saying anything to her.

Because you had decided your mind.

If Chrissy wanted to play that game, then so fucking be it.

When the bell rang once again, Steve was quick to rise, “Must be Nancy and Jonathan!” he announced, voice almost cracking from the tension in the room. He was quick to scurry off, inviting the main couple inside. You turned to Robin swiftly, almost ruining her balance with the way you snatched the drink from her hand, you took a big sip, downing the contents in one go. Then, without acknowledging either of them, you headed inside, leaving behind the simmering tension in the kitchen.

You were all seated, Nancy and Jonathan side by side, next to them Steve and Robin, and on their right, were the rest of the band, followed by Chrissy, Eddie, and you.

The table itself looked perfect, you could see that Steve went all out for it, adorning the table with an array of breakfast foods. Plates piled high with pastries, fruit, muffins, and of course, Steve’s special pancakes. He never stopped raving about them, and the second he sat down, he grabbed a generous amount of it to his plate. A pot of steaming coffee sat right by the end of the table, along with your gin bottle sitting right next to it, which was what you had been preferring, because everything was fucking awkward.

You were sipping on your drink like it was your lifeline, Steve and Robin watched you with a concerned gaze, whispering back and forth.

Jeff, Gareth, and the new drummer you hadn’t met before, Nathan were laughing obnoxiously, and you almost felt like it was all aimed at you.

Maybe you were paranoid, but you assumed they wouldn’t be keen on you, knowing that after L.A. all they saw was a mess of Eddie who wrote nothing but sad songs, which all the lyrics seemed to point in your direction.

“How is pre-wedding life going for the love birds?” Eddie hummed seemingly more content than before.

Jonathan and Nancy both let out an exasperated sigh, giggling like kids after they realized how in sync they were, “pretty fuckin’ tiring,” Jonathan replied, taking a mouthful bite from the pastry he had on his plate.

“You guys are still on for tonight, right? I promised the guy at Hideout at least two songs from Corroded Coffin,” he emphasized the band's name mockingly.

“‘Course, dude, whatever you need,” Eddie gave him a small smile, a wink thrown in for good measure.

Unintentionally, Eddie shifted his gaze towards you, observing the way you seemed to shrink into your seat, fingers nervously tracing the rim of your drink. Chrissy's eyes followed him, her gaze narrowing as she caught onto the subtle shift in his attention. He leaned closer to you, so close that his hand almost brushed against yours that sat on the table.

Eddie opened his pursed lips, about to utter something, but Chrissy couldn’t let that happen.

“This feels weird,” She hummed, “the last time we were all here, this table was for beer pong.” She giggled, and slightly nudged Eddie.

Eddie gave her a tight-lipped smile before his attention was quick to turn back to you, but you ignored his burning gaze.

“Steve that was a sick party,” She exclaimed excitedly, trying to gather Steve’s attention who was busy trying to locate the syrup for his awaiting pancakes.

Your head almost popped up simultaneously at the mention… the same party. The same fucking party she tried to kiss Billy. The same fucking party she humiliated you with her words. The same party she made fun of…

“Huh?” He asked mindlessly, almost knocking over Robin’s drink with how fast he was looking for the syrup, completely ignoring Chrissy. “Jesus Christ!” He exclaimed, earning furrowed brows from Robin, who just shook her head at him.

“I forgot the syrup!” He groaned, getting up from his seat. “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Robin mocked, as Steve threw her a glare before making a hasty retreat to the kitchen with a string of curses leaving his lips, while the rest of the table tried to soak in the awkwardness.

Gareth was quick to chime in though, “oh, yeah!” he quipped, remembering the party. “You went to that party?” Jeff asked with his brows pinched together in confusion.

“Yeah, Eddie was selling so he brought me along,” he explained, grabbing Eddie by the shoulder with a chuckle.

“Oh god, that was the same party you beat Billy to a fuckin’ pulp, dude!” His chuckle grew louder, hand on his stomach.

You and Eddie tensed at the mention of it, while you enjoyed Billy finally not being able to get away with his violence, none of that memory was amusing to you in the slightest. And nor was it to Eddie.

Gareth turned to Chrissy when his laughter finally died off, “Hey, didn’t we play beer pong together?”

Chrissy's face lit up with a nostalgic giggle, “oh my god, we totally did!” She exclaimed excitedly, but your gaze remained on your empty plate, unable to contain the rage bubbling inside of you.

"It was so funny," she began, "Gareth kept missing it, but..."

Your patience reached its limit, and you couldn't help but interject. "When was that?" Your voice tinged with an edge, cut through the chatter at the table.

Multiple heads were quick to turn to you, and Chrissy probably had no clue what you were up to. Maybe this was a low blow, maybe you shouldn’t tell in front of everyone.

“We were pretty drunk, I don’t remember-” She said meekly, but you interrupted, again.

“I was at that party too, but I must have missed that!” You continued, your words sharp and calculated. And feigning a faux sense of intrigue. Maybe it was cruel, but this was the perfect setup, and Chrissy was falling right into your trap.

Before she could respond, you pressed on, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “oooh! Was that before or after you tried to hook up with my ex-boyfriend?” Your words hung heavy in the air, the whole table quick to fall silent.

Almost all eyes except Chrissy turned to you, Robin almost choked on the strong drink Steve made for her. Gareth, Jeff, and Nathan all stopped their inner chatter, while Jonathan and Nancy’s eyes widened in unison.

As the tension continued to mount, Jonathan quickly turned to Nancy, leaning towards her, “Should I do something-” He whispered to Nancy, who didn’t dare to move, watching everything unravel before her.

“Don’t you dare,” she warned, “she deserves this confrontation. And, I am tired of Eddie pestering us about this; he deserves to know.” Nancy shrugged, Jonathan reluctantly raised his hands in agreement, almost like he was surrendering to her reasonings.

Chrissy stood there, her voice caught in her throat, mouth agape, unable to utter a coherent response. She was frozen, eyes wide with shock, while her fingers nervously fumbled with the napkin on the table, struggling to find the words to defend herself.

You reacted with a bitter, mocking disbelief, shaking your head slowly. “Shit, or was it after you blamed me for what Billy did to me? You know, making fun of my bruises and stuff?”

“What?” Eddie’s face scrunched in disgust, his eyes flickering to Chrissy, who seemed to shrink under the weight of what she did. Jonathan and Nancy watched with their mouth almost hanging open. Robin had a smug smile on her face, she bit her lip in excitement while watching everything unfold. It was like all of them had been waiting for this confrontation.

Poor Jeff, Gareth, and Nathan just watched with a confused look, not knowing anything about the deep history between the three of you.

Chrissy stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, but once again you didn’t let her. “No, no, wait!” You were relentless, sarcasm cutting through your tone as you playfully hit your forehead in a mocking gesture. “I think it was after you made fun of my parents leaving me, what did you say they were?” You mocked a pensive expression, a dangerous glint in your eyes, “Junkies?” Your gaze narrowed, Chrissy’s stammering continued, and she turned to Eddie desperately, while her vision was getting blurry.

The room had grown oppressively tense, no one dared to speak, Robin, Jonathan, and Nancy all wore disgusted faces, along with the surprise of you laying everything out on the table, literally. Jeff and Gareth silently oofed, even though they didn’t know anything, they knew that what Chrissy did was fucked up.

Eddie struggled to process it, your words, the realization that Chrissy had done something worse other than trying to hook up with Billy was hard to sink into his skin. “What the fuck are you talking about?” He repeated, his entire world almost shattering dramatically.

“Oh, didn’t your sweet, sweet Chrissy mention all that?” You weren’t holding back, every bitterness, every ugliness, you were ready to spit it all at him and Chrissy.

And you wished it would give you satisfaction, you wished it would make you feel better.

But it didn’t. None of it felt good, none of it filled the void inside of you. None of it helped you get over the betrayal that unfolded right between your eyes.

None of it helped you get over the cruel look Chrissy gave you when she made fun of your traumas, none of it helped you get over the fact that Eddie told you that you ruined his life, and none of it helped the way your lip trembled when you saw the two of them kiss.

“Okay, I’ve got the syrup!” Steve chimed in, unaware of everything that had just transpired in the room, his brows furrowed when he noticed the tension, every eye on the table turned to him, except for you, Chrissy, and Eddie.

Chrissy's desperate gaze fixed on Eddie, pleading for some form of understanding or forgiveness, but his gaze remained unwaveringly locked on you, filled with guilt. Your own eyes were cast downward, remaining on your lap, while you tried hard to fight back the tears.

Because no matter what, Chrissy betrayed your trust, you trusted her enough to tell her what Billy did to you, and instead of getting help, she tried to kiss him, or actually did kiss him, you never found out the truth—both of them told you a different version of the story.

She made fun of your parents leaving you. She blamed you for the things Billy did. Like it meant nothing to her. Like you meant nothing to her.

“Did I just interrupt something-” Steve was quickly hushed by Robin, who pulled him to his seat quickly. “Pinky is confronting Chrissy!”

“What? Now?” He whisper-yelled, putting down the syrup jar on the table, eyeing the tension between the three of you. Robin nodded, “Eddie’s trying to process all of it, and Chrissy looks like she’s about to burst into tears,” she added.

“He didn’t know?” Steve’s brows furrowed, “Nuh-uh, don’t you remember how P made us all promise not to tell anyone? You know how she is with her personal stuff,” the two of them whispered back and forth, earning a glare from Nancy that shut both of them up.

Eddie’s expressions were unreadable, mixed with every possible emotion as he drew a deep breath in a feeble attempt to make sense of everything. “W-what exactly happened?” With uncertainty in his eyes, he faced you, he wanted to know everything. But you didn’t dare to look at him, crossing your arms defensively against your chest—you were in no way ready to tell him anything.

“I-I wanted to apologize to you, and I wanted to..” Chrissy’s voice trembled, she seemed apologetic, eyes glistening with guilt, but it truly meant nothing to you.

“Shit, you really don’t fucking get it, do you?” You couldn’t help but click your tongue in annoyance, hand on your forehead in disbelief. “This isn’t about your stupid apology.”

“You knew them, Chrissy,” you continued, your voice quivering with raw emotion, “you were there with me when they left, you fucking comforted me when I cried…” All of it felt too raw for you, your chest tightening the more you remembered it all, “and then you used it as a punch line for a stupid joke, to hurt me.”

You took a deep breath in an attempt to continue, your heart tightening the more you spoke. “You knew what Billy did to me, you saw the bruises, and you acted like none of that mattered when you kissed him!”

“I d-didn’t—it was a misunderstanding!” She tried to defend herself, but you didn’t care.

You were quick to get up from your seat, feeling suffocated. “God, i-it really hurt, it did.” you confessed, your voice trembling as you blinked away the tears. “But it doesn’t anymore because you were dead to me the second you uttered those words.” Your lips trembled.

“And you,” with a tone filled with bitterness, you finally turned to Eddie, really looking at him for the first time. His eyes were filled with regret, brows scrunched up together with guilt. Your hand pointed toward him accusingly, “fucking date her for all I care, you two deserve each other.”

You stormed off to the backyard quickly, not being able to hold back the tears anymore. Eddie got up the second you did, pleading for your name. The room fell silent again, and just as he was about to chase you, Steve was quick to rise to his feet, intervening with a grab of Eddie’s arm.

“Give her some time,” Steve’s harsh hold on Eddie’s arm had everyone eyeing them.

“Excuse me?” Eddie retorted, his gaze dangerously fiery.

“She needs some time, Eddie.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie warned, gaze dropping to the hold that Steve had on him, his anger simmering just below the surface.

“Man, I’m trying to be helpful right now, you’re the last person she wants to fucking see,” Steve spat, gaze narrowing as he looked at him with disgust.

That was the breaking point for Eddie, he took a step closer, his anger ready to spill over to Steve, which wasn’t fair, but it had been building up the second he saw how close the two of you were. The smiles you threw at him. The compliments. It was stupid and so unlike him, but with everything, he couldn’t afford to lose you, not again.

And it looked like he just did.

“That’s not any of your fuckin’ business, Harrington-”

Before the situation could escalate further, Jonathan intervened, stepping between the two of them. “Alright, alright!” he gently defused the tension. “Steve, Rob, go see if she’s okay,” He demanded, the two of them looking at him dumbfoundedly, “Go!” he exclaimed, and Robin was quick to rise from her seat, dragging Steve away from Eddie who was still throwing daggers with his looks toward Steve.

“And Eddie, I need to talk to you for a second.” Jonathan caught Eddie’s attention and tugged at his jacket to the side while Nancy quickly excused herself from the awkward table before the three of them huddled in the corner.

Eddie was quick to shake off the hold Jonathan had on him, his anger still uncontained. “What?” His voice was raised.

“You need to calm the fuck down,” Jonathan warned.

“Why didn’t you guys-” He took a deep breath. “How could you guys not fuckin’ tell me?” His voice was desperate.

“She told us not to!” Nancy added. “God, I’m such a fuckin’ idiot.” He exasperated.

Jonathan agreed with a nod, “That, you are.” Earning a glare from Eddie, he continued, “I’m sorry dude, but it’s true, you shouldn’t have paraded her around in front of Pinky.”

“How was I supposed to know?!?”

“You weren’t,” Nancy sighed, “but you knew what happened with Billy, and that should’ve been enough, Eddie.”

Eddie shook his head to disagree, his disheveled hair hung over his forehead, barely covering his pained eyes. “If I knew, if I fucking knew for a second that s-she made fun of, shit-” His voice cracked, struggling to find the right words. The vivid recollections of your pain etched lines of hurt across his face. “God, I saw how much her parents leaving crushed her, Nance. I was there, I comforted her.” Nancy could sense the hurt in his voice.

“Every time she came over to a Munson dinner, every time Wayne told her she was family, every time Wayne did somethin’ for her... I-I could just see how much she appreciated it. Wayne, and me…”

His voice continued to tremble, and tears welled up in his eyes. “And I saw those goddamn bruises that fucking asshole left, s-she was shaking, Jon- I-I knew how hard it was for her, if I…” He took a shuddering breath, voice still shaky, and gaze glistening with unshed tears.

His hands moved in agitation, desperate to defend himself and express his guilt. “If I… If I knew for one goddamn second that she made fun of that, I w-would’ve never!” He punctuated his words desperately, hands rubbing against his face in disbelief.

“I know, I know,” Nancy reassured with a soothing voice, both she and Jonathan reached out to rub his back comfortingly. “I think she’s just upset right now, Ed.” Jonathan spoke up.

“I mean can you really blame her? I know you didn’t know anything, but the moment she came back to the town, the first thing she saw was you and Chrissy kissing… it was probably a tough pill for her to swallow.” Nancy mumbled.

Jonathan was quick to add with a soft-spoken plea, “Give her some time, and then you can apologize, okay?” He nodded, trying to take all of the information he acquired in the last five minutes

“I also think you have someone else you need to talk to,” Jonathan whispered, gaze pointing toward Chrissy who had been itching to speak to him, her gaze repeatedly flickering in their direction.

And once Chrissy realized Eddie looking back at her, she was quick to get up from her seat, shoulders slumped as she approached him. She eyed the way Nancy and Jonathan gave Eddie a slight smile and a nudge on his shoulder before they left.

Her eyes were glossy, face red. “C-can I talk to you?” She stammered.

“Y-yeah,” he conceded, a hint of uncertainty in his voice, not able to help himself when his head turned toward the sliding door, wanting to get a glimpse of you but blocked by the figure of Steve.

“I-I should’ve told you what I did.” Chrissy sighed, swallowing the lump in her throat as she took a deep breath.

“I-I’m sorry. I just…” She recollected her thoughts, “you were like the only one who didn’t know and it just… It felt nice to hang out with someone who didn’t shun me out.”

“Steve, Nancy, Jonathan… even Robin, the second they learned what I said, they didn’t even look me in the face!” Her voice cracked.

“And I know I probably deserved that but that was so long ago and I…” Her gaze fell toward the floor, she felt embarrassed, she should’ve never done that to you, and she did have her reasons, but she also knew none of them would ever justify what she said.

“I was just miserable and bitter and P-pinky didn’t deserve any of that. I know that but…” Her head snapped up, her tearful eyes locking with Eddie’s, “I really had fun with you these past couple of days and…”

Eddie was quick to interrupt her, shaking his head, “Chrissy…” He sighed, fingers rubbing his temples in an attempt to comfort himself, it was too much, everything was too much.

And he didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to talk to her, he didn’t want some pep talk from Jonathan and Nancy, he only wanted you.

He wanted to tell you how sorry he was, and how much of an idiot he was. Even though he didn’t know anything. But he should’ve known better. He should have.

And he felt the guilt gnawing at him, consuming him from the inside.

“I really felt like we had something-” Eddie was quick to dismiss her.

“Chrissy, I’m sorry I should have never done this, I-I’m such a fucking coward.”

“W-what?” Chrissy asked, her voice breaking again, tears brimming in her eyes. “I should’ve known,” she sighed, shutting her eyes briefly to avoid the tears.

Eddie let out a confused hum. “I-I mean I kind of did, I saw the way you looked at her, the way your eyes lit up unintentionally whenever someone mentioned her. The smile you had when she talked to you… You were never ever like that with me, not even for a second.”

It took Eddie a few seconds to process that, he knew he should’ve never done anything with Chrissy, he never should’ve tried to defend her to you, he should’ve listened to you. He was an idiot.

Chrissy was right. It was you. It had always been you.

“I didn’t- I didn’t fuckin’ mean to but I think like back in my mind, I did all of this to make myself feel better because I knew she might be coming back and I just wanted to make myself feel like I got over her. I-I know that’s incredibly shitty and I’m sorry-”

“So you just used me?” She spat, feeling like a pawn in a game she did not want to be a part of.

“N-no! That’s not what I tried to do! I just… I just, I’m sorry that it came off that way… I thought I could you know… do this,” he mumbled, pointing toward the space between them.

“I can’t and I never should have tried.”

“What the hell does that even mean?” He could see Chrissy’s hurt turn quickly to anger, and maybe five minutes ago, when he didn’t know what she did to you, he would’ve apologized for being a dick, and for doing something as stupid as this. But he couldn’t be apologetic to her, not anymore.

“I-it means it’s always been her, and it’s always going to be her, Chrissy,” Eddie admitted, something that he should’ve realized a long time ago, and Chrissy wanted to laugh at that.

Of course, it was going to be you, it was always you.

Billy, and now Eddie. No matter what she did, she could never compete with you. You didn’t even have to do anything and they would devote their whole fucking life to you.

And it pissed her off, made her bitter. Which wasn’t fair, which didn’t make what she ever did or said okay. But her mind justified it. Fueled her to say those things to you.

Eddie, struggling to process Chrissy's words, stammered in disbelief, “I can’t even look at you after what she told me. How could you be so cruel?” The way he viewed Chrissy changed in a matter of seconds, disgust overtaking his senses.

But Chrissy found that amusing. She chuckled bitterly, shaking her head. “Me?” She pointed an accusatory finger at him, “You just admitted that you basically used me. Jesus Christ, you’re an asshole.”

“And I’m really sorry about that,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity, “that isn’t what I intended to-“

Chrissy, still seething with anger and disappointment, didn't give him a chance to finish. “Save it.” She rolled her eyes, hand defensively pointing toward him.

Gareth, Jeff, and Nathan suddenly appeared, intruding awkwardly into the already strained atmosphere between the two of them. Gareth was the first to speak up, attempting to break the tension. He cleared his throat and said, “Uhhh- hey man, we’re gonna take off.”

“You comin’?” Jeff inquired, standing beside Gareth.

“Uhhh, no? I need to talk to her.” Eddie replied firmly.

“Seriously? You’re still running after her?” Gareth bit back, Jeff tried to elbow him to shut him up but it was no use.

“I’ll see you guys tonight.” He said through gritted teeth, not in the mood to deal with Gareth’s hatred for you.

“Chrissy, you comin’?” Gareth was quick to turn to her, and she nodded quickly, before throwing a harsh look at Eddie.

“Jerk,” she mumbled under her breath, leaving off with them.

“I did deserve that.” Eddie sighed, mumbling to himself before he finally decided to meet all of you in the backyard.

You leaned back on your seat, eyes still glossy but you looked happier, a giggle leaving your lips at something Steve said.

And it hurt Eddie to see that, it hurt because your teary eyes were all because of him, and you were giggling only because of Steve.

It wasn’t like this before, he was the one who always made you happy, he never made you cry, he never uttered horrible words to you like he did yesterday.

Was it all doomed?

Did the chance for the two of you pass by and both of you were too much of an idiot to realize it? Did he manage to fuck everything up with just barely two days?

Your laughter died down the second your gaze met his, breath getting hitched in your throat. He looked guilty, those shaggy bangs falling messily on his forehead, hand stuffed into the back of his black jeans. Walking over to you with such shyness that your gaze softened, you didn’t want to be like this with him. It was never like this before.

But it hurt so much that you could feel your chest swell with the pain. His words, Chrissy… you couldn’t pretend like none of it happened anymore.

“Can we talk?”

“Dude, I just told you-” Steve was quick to interject, and it brought warmth in your stomach, the feeling nicely seeping into your skin, knowing that your friends truly cared about you, and how much they would do to protect you.

They had done it with Chrissy, you never asked them to do anything, but the second you told any of them what happened, they didn’t even throw her a second glance when they ran into her ever again in this damned town.

And it meant so much, knowing that there were people you could count on, a sense of protectiveness and security that your parents never provided for you. But you liked that, you liked having them, an untraditional way of family, but your family regardless.

“Harrington, will you fuckin’-”

You interrupted both of their stupid dick-measuring competition with a sigh, “It’s okay, Steve,” you murmured, throwing him a smile before squeezing his arm gently. “We do need to talk,” you nodded off toward Eddie, dragging him off to the other side gently, away from all of them.

“Look, fuck- I’m so sorry, okay?” He started, his voice apologetic.

“Eddie, please-”

“No, no, let me talk, please,” he breathed out, desperate, his gaze mirroring yours, fingers brushing on your arms, gentle, pleading.

“I’m sorry, I’m a fucking idiot, I’m the biggest fucking idiot in the whole world.”

“Y-you never ruined my life, okay? You could never, even if you tried your hardest. Even if you did the worst possible thing to me. I could never see you like that. I could never see the worst of you.”

“I-I shouldn’t have done what I did, I shouldn’t have brought her everywhere, and I shouldn’t have tried to defend her to you.”

“E-eddie, stop” you gulped, interrupting him, “You-you’re confusing the fuck out of me… You tell me I ruined your life, and then I read those stupid notes-”

“You read them?” Eddie’s brows raised in surprise, an idiotic grin curling on his lips.

“Of course I did.” You muttered, avoiding his gaze.

“But you said-”

“I wanted to piss you off,” you admitted with a meek voice.

“And what did you think?” He asked, hopeful, still feeling nervous with the way you were so calm, he knew nothing good was gonna come out of this.

“That I-I can’t do this.”

“I mean, the song is really great…” You muttered, and you wanted to mention the other note, how much it crushed you and how much you wished it could change anything, but you couldn’t handle it anymore. You couldn’t handle seeing him, you couldn’t handle anything about Eddie. You needed some time apart.

“And I’m glad you realized you fucked up but I… I’m just so tired,” you sighed, licking your lips to get some sort of encouragement to say the things that you were about to say.

“I-I can’t do this back and forth with you anymore,” you huffed.

“I mean just look at us! I’ve been here for almost two days and look how many times we fought and then pretended like nothing happened! T-this isn’t how we used to be,” you bit on your lip, tasting the bitter taste of metallic blood, just so the tears wouldn’t spill.

“I know…” he muttered, “but why didn’t you just tell me? Then… and even now?”

“I-I was embarrassed,” you muttered shyly. His brows scrunched, embarrassed? why would you be embarrassed for the shitty things she did?

“Why would you be embarrassed?” He asked.

“Because it was true, Eddie,” you blinked away the tears, settling with that uncomfortable feeling.

“What are you talking about, what she did was fuckin’ cruel, and if I knew-”

“N-no, it was true.” You huffed. “Deadbeat parents and an abusive ex-boyfriend… like how cliche could I fucking get?” You wanted to laugh bitterly.

“I-I’m a mess and she’s right… And so were you! It was such a gut punch when you said it to me, but you were right.” Your lip was wobbling, eyes squinted. “I-I ruined your life and-”

“No, don’t fucking say that-”

“But it is true!” You exclaimed with a sad expression, “I ruined your life and I-I should’ve never tried to re-enter it, and I should’ve left you alone.”

“I-I’m sorry, for everything, for LA, I could say that as many times as you need me to…” you sighed. “but I promise you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“W-what?” He stuttered, still struggling to process your words.

“I told you Eddie, I don’t want to do this. As we said, we don’t have to talk to each other this weekend, and afterward, I’ll be gone.”

“You won’t ever hear from me or see me again.”

“But that is not what I want!” Eddie exclaimed, desperate, he didn’t want to lose you, and he was going to. There was nothing he could do to stop it.

He already lost you once, and maybe he could blame you for that, but this one. It was all him.

He tried to reach for your arm, to touch you again, to feel the warmth he felt a night ago like everything would be just as it was five years ago. But you were quick to take a step back away from him.

“But it’s what I want.” You tried to speak calmly, your cracking voice fast to fail you.

“W-what about the album cover?”

With a touch of bitterness in your tone, you retorted, “I’m sure you can find someone much better than me.”

“C’mon, Pinky, you can’t be serious, that’s like a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing-”

“I’d rather be stuck at the record store for the rest of my life,” you muttered bitterly, words cutting through him. You could see how much they were hurting him, but there was no other way, you had to protect your own feelings.

Staying away from Eddie was the only thing you could do to stop hurting yourself and everyone else. You had already caused enough problems for everyone in the room.

Eddie's voice turned somber as he uttered, “So, this is it?” A sense of defeat washed over him.

“We’ve been doing it for the past five years, why should it change now?”

Because I want you.

Because I haven’t been able to do that for the past five years either.

Because I could never stay away from you.

Because it has always been you, from the moment we met.

Because I love you. Always have, always will.

Was what he should’ve said, some grand speech, something to sweep you off your feet, something to change your mind. Anything. So he wouldn’t lose you again, so you could finally realize how much he cared about you, how much he would always care about you.

But nothing came out of his trembling lips, not even a sound.

He stood there, feeling as if time froze around him. Like he was stuck, everything around him moved, but he didn’t, he couldn’t.

He watched you go back to Steve. Steve comfortably threw an arm around your shoulder and let you know that you could stay here with him and that he would drive you to The Hideout tonight.

And it should have been him. Him, who offered to take you to his place. Him, you spent the rest of your day with.

Him, who you ran off to whenever you felt sad or when your heart was broken. He couldn’t accept that he was no longer the one you ran to, but the one who caused all of it.

✦ final authors note — OKAY. so please let me know if u want flashbacks in the next chapter bc thats what i had in mind but idk how yall feel abt flashbacks but i swear they will reveal A LOT LMAO.

also please interact/reblog/like or give me any feedback to support me ily <3

permanent taglist (lmk if u want to be added): @mandyjo8719 @kellsck @batkin028 @hideoutside @sashaphantomhive @nabiiturner @andvys (ILY.) @siriuslysmoking @plk-18 @emxxblog @babyloutattoo89 @micheledawn1975 @sole-screws @joannamuns9n @trixyvixx @fangirling-4-ever @browneyes528

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things fanfic #edide munson #eddie munson x you #getaway car series #getaway car

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neiptune · 6 months ago

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a series of (un)fortunate drivers

cw: 1k wc, gender neutral reader, fake dating trope, roommate to lovers, they're both idiots (affectionate). sponsored by the ever generous @yellow-sword-lily who decided to trust my writing and contribute to the wonderful @ficsforgaza initiative!

“Does it hurt?”

Atsumu is met with a familiar, stubborn silence that prompts an exasperated sigh. You’re being awfully quiet for someone who’s chest is pressed to his back, close enough he can smell the shampoo that actually acts as shampoo (he learned that, apparently, a 3-in-1 body wash is indicative of not knowing how to take care of his own needs on approximately day two of living with you).

He knows you’re perfectly capable of not uttering a single word the entire way home, just as you know he’s keeping his pace slow to minimize your bouncing and reduce the discomfort to the best of his ability. It makes you want to strangle him.

“Blink once if it hurts” Atsumu turns to the side and his caramel gaze takes yours by surprise for just a second before you decide to resolutely focus on a specific spot on his shoulder.

“You’re the most ridiculous person I know” he balances you better against him with a small hop and you swallow the petty comeback already dancing on the tip of your tongue.

Truth is, it does hurt. Your ankle is swollen, probably about to bruise, an annoying circumstance that could’ve been well avoided if not for a couple of drivers that worked against your luck to progressively fuck your evening back-to-back: a) Hinata convincing you that a pair of chunky sneakers would be an excellent investment, b) the decision to wear said inappropriately chunky sneakers, c) Atsumu ignoring how excessively flirty the woman at the bar was being (one can estimate the impressive size of his biceps without necessarily squeezing his arm multiple times), d) the spirit of an immature six year old that decided to suddenly possess you at the sight, causing you to make up a dumb excuse to storm out before Suna and everyone else could even get there to begin with.

The heated march was soon and quite harshly interrupted by your ankle turning in an awkward way, causing you to even more awkwardly tumble onto the goddamn sidewalk right as a bottle blond pro athlete was forced to drop everything (drinks, friends, excessively flirty woman) to chase you down the street.

You insisted you could’ve walked (not true) or called an uber (also not true, you forgot your phone on the kitchen island) but, with the utmost care and deaf to your objections, Atsumu collected the things scattered on the asphalt the same way confusing thoughts are dispersed around your brain still, checked your ankle with furrowed brows and sentenced you to a piggyback ride home.

He refuses to let you slip off his back as he kicks off his shoes, rolls his eyes when you scoff and makes his way to the couch by which he carefully bends down to gently place you against the throw pillows.

“Don’t” Atsumu swats your hand away when you attempt to lean forward “I got ya” he rolls your sage green linen pants all the way up to the knee and attentively unties your shoes. You suck in a sharp breath between your teeth when he removes the sneaker, warm hand supporting your leg by the calf. A fluffy pillow is placed on the coffee table and underneath your foot, an admonishment to hold still mumbled with affection as he disappears into the kitchen to rummage through your freezer.

“I can do it” you accept the ibuprofen but protest firmly when he sits on the table, ice pack in hand.

“I know ya can” Atsumu offers a smile “but let me”

Defeated, you hiss at the contact: the skin feels so tender even grazing it with a finger would hurt. He knows, he’s had his fair share of injuries throughout his career.

Atsumu is more observant than what people give him credit for. He knows exactly when everything changed, the night that shifted the precarious equilibrium of your roommate relationship. It wasn’t when he suggested you’d fake a relationship for a while, just to get his PR team to shut the fuck up and stop trying to pair him up with some unknown model just for the sake of it. Can’t, I already have a partner. You were happy to accomodate his request: some pics for social media, a few shots of intertwined fingers and steaming bowls of ramen. Always his treat. Atsumu promised he’d take over the cleaning activities you hated the most for two entire months in return. You would’ve been free from dusting, scrubbing the bathtub and washing dishes (he’d insisted on laundry too but you simply weren’t going to risk all your whites turning pink).

No, it was Suna’s birthday that changed everything. The night you both had a little too much of that fancy wine and ended up sharing a drunken kiss with you perched in his lap, eager fingers in his hair, kissing with little to non existent restraint. It felt so good, so right, he could only think he wanted to do it again, when sober. And now, after acting like that never even happened for an entire week, your little tantrum makes him think that perhaps you’d like to do it again too.

“I think we should stop, ‘Tsumu” you murmur, eyes kept low when he looks up from your ankle.

“What are we stoppin’?”

“The whole thing. Tell your team you’ll do what they want”

He cocks his head, seemingly imperturbable. ‘Samu would be the only one capable of sensing how fast his heart is actually beating. “Why would I do that?”

“Why would you not do that?” you finally meet his stoic gaze “let’s just stop now before anybody’s feelings get hurt, okay?”

“Ya think I’d do that?”

“I didn’t say…”

“What are you saying, then?” Atsumu leans forward to gently grab your jaw, forces you to look at him “all I’m hearing is you’re worried about yer feelings. Whatever we are going to do with mine, right?”

You jump a little at the unexpected words and he rolls his eyes. It’s just so typical of you to be all lost in your own head, too buried in futile concerns to notice just how unnecessary they are.

“Let me tell ya what I think we should actually do” Atsumu makes sure the ice pack stays in place or is at least balanced enough to stay on as he slides from the coffee table onto the couch “I think you should stop assuming I’d be interested in anyone who's not you” he offers a grin that suppresses your heated remonstrance before you have the chance to voice it “and I should take you out on a proper date. Maybe to one of those museums ya love so much. Blink once if you agree?”

He’s ridiculous. Maybe ‘Samu’s initial warning “it will rub off on ya” wasn’t such a senseless prediction after all, because you do blink. Slow, deliberate. And Atsumu smiles the most beautiful smile: it’s much better than the ones that win him magazine covers and sparkly photoshoots. This one’s all yours.

You lean forward first, the ice pack slips from your ankle to the floor.

#atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x you #fics for gaza

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artiststarme · 2 years ago

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The Party Forgets Steve's Birthday

Thank you for the prompt @nburkhardt ! I hope it meets your expectations!

Now with a Part 2!

~*~*~*~

Steve was used to being forgotten. His parents regularly left for months at a time without regarding him at all, his old friends at school had only ever seemed to remember him when they wanted to use his house to throw a party, and his own girlfriend conveniently forgot about him when she chose to sleep with the guy that gave him his first concussion. He was well past being surprised when people neglected to think about him.

So he really shouldn’t have been surprised when everyone forgot his birthday.

He woke up the morning of his twentieth birthday to an empty house and an even emptier heart. Just like every other day, his parents were off on a business trip ignoring his existence. They hadn’t even left him a message congratulating him on making it to twenty, a feat Steve never thought he would accomplish. The mailbox was just as empty as it always was and it was like Steve didn’t exist to his parents at all. He didn’t know why he expected anything different. He’d been ignored, cast aside by them, his entire life and he still had the gall to expect things to change.

Steve had a shift at Family Video at 4 until close so he had to change out of his pajamas eventually. But right up until the moment he had to leave, he sulked from the comfortable nest of blankets on his couch. He grieved the loss of love from his parents that, looking back, may have never existed in the first place.

He also waited for his friends to call. Eddie, Robin, Nancy, or Jonathan had to know it was his birthday today. He’d told them enough times and Robin had called him a “troublesome Taurus” at least once. The older teens may not have enough excitement over just another birthday to come over to his house but surely they would call. But as time marched on, his phone sat silent despite his staring at it.

Well, he was seeing Robin at work so she was probably just waiting to tell him in person. And maybe the others were throwing a surprise party for him. The Party threw a birthday party for each one of the members on their special day so maybe it was Steve’s turn this year to be introduced to the tradition. After the horrific Spring Break from hell, he thinks he deserved it.

While the Party was fine now, this encounter with the Upside Down had been their worst yet. Max was in a coma for two weeks before she woke up but the repercussions of Vecna’s mind-melt were permanent. She was now blind and she still hadn’t managed to leave her wheelchair over a month later.

Eddie was ambushed by demobats and ripped apart even though his job was supposed to be the decoy that was out of danger. Steve had to give him CPR to restart his heart through the shock then had to sprint with him out of the Upside Down and into the nearest car in the Rightside Up, a car that he had to hotwire with Eddie’s minimal guidance. Then they had to clear his name with the police and townspeople that wanted nothing more than the outcast to go down for a crime he didn’t commit.

And Steve. While his injuries were less severe than the others, his skin would always show the scars from the demobats. His neck was still blemished and his abdomen was sunken where the bats tried to use him as a meal. Mentally, his self-confidence was gone and he had nightmares every night about the feel of the teeth tearing through his flesh. He almost didn’t make it out of there this time which made this birthday all the more special.

When he walked into the video store for his shift, all of the kids and Eddie were there. Steve had the brief thought that they were probably putting their final touches on the surprise party but that passed quickly once they turned to look at him.

“Oh look, your esteemed babysitter is here which means he can deal with you. Now, if you don’t mind I’m going to go hang out with other grownups instead of sticking around with you children. Bye now!” Robin told them dramatically, waggling her fingers in their faces. She turned to Steve, “hey Dingus, your children have been trying to rent a rated R film for the past twenty minutes. You deal with that while I go on my date with Vickie. Toodles!”

Steve didn’t even have time to say anything in response before she made her way to the back to clock out and left his sight. He was still watching where she used to be when he heard a throat clear. It was fucking Dustin, of course it was. The little bastard had a smug smirk on his face and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Gross dude, no. I keep telling you that it's not like that with Robin and I. Get your head out of the gutter,” Steve told him, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

“We can see how you look at her! It’s not rocket science, Steve. Just ask out the pretty girl already and stop being a lonely loser,” Dustin told him in a sarcastic tone. The other kids nodded while Eddie left to awkwardly look through the horror aisle full of movies he’d already seen. That fucker knew Robin was a lesbian and was just leaving him to suffer through this alone, on his birthday no less.

“Look, I’m not talking about this today and I’m not renting you a tape that’s rated R. Is that all you’re here for?” Maybe this was a ruse and they were going to shower him with birthday wishes.

“Oh come on! Eddie can rent it for us under his name!” Dustin whined.

“I said no.”

"But-" Dustin started.

“Whatever, let’s go guys. Steve’s just being an asshole today,” Lucas said from his spot near the door.

Will tucked his head down instead of acknowledging the asshole comment but still agreed, “we can go to the arcade!”

“Steve’s an asshole everyday. Today he’s just being unhelpful. If we wanted someone useless, we should’ve asked my dad,” Mike sneered at him.

Being compared to Ted Wheeler was too much for Steve and the brats were starting to give him a headache. “Whatever dipshits, get out of my store. Go bother someone that cares. Bye!”

With some angry mumbles and grumbles, they shuffled out and made their way to the arcade (or so Steve assumes). Eddie poked his head out from the horror aisle then and upon seeing the coast was clear, hopped up to situate himself on the counter. “You having a bad day then?”

Steve sighed, “yeah you could say that. They were starting to give me a headache.”

Eddie hummed and poked Steve’s leg with his toe. “What’s up with you today? You seem… mad. Did something happen?”

Steve wasn’t mad, he was disappointed. He was disappointed that he didn’t mean as much to anyone else as they meant to him. The Party was his family but he was just an inconvenience to them. That was a common theme in life and many people have told him that through the years. His parents, Tommy and Carol, Nancy, some of the girls he’d taken on dates. Every single one of them considered him to be an inconvenience at best, a disappointment at worst.

He really thought that he’d collected a good group of friends over the past few years that would treat him better, that didn’t just want to use him but loved him as he did them. Apparently not.

He said as much to Eddie. “Do you ever feel like you mean something to someone and then it turns out that you don’t matter as much as you think you do?”

Eddie’s face twisted and he pulled a chunk of hair to cover his mouth. But he still nodded slightly before clearing his throat and answering his question. “Um yeah, I feel that way around you guys all the time.”

Steve shot him an alarmed look but he continued. “It’s not meant to be a dig at you or anything! You guys have all been friends for so much longer that it just, it still feels like I’m an outsider still. You know?”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I feel like that too, man.” Eddie went to cut him off but he continued speaking. “No, seriously! It just feels like no one gives a shit about me even after all these years. Like, I woke up today thinking everyone was going to be calling me and coming over, just making a big deal all around, but no one did. I mean, it’s not like anyone’s ever done anything big for my birthday before but I just. I expected people to care this year.”

Eddie’s face slowly paled the more Steve spoke until his skin was practically translucent. “It’s your birthday today?”

“Yeah,” Steve chuckled sardonically. “I finally made it to the big 2-0. I kinda expected to have a party today since everyone else in the Party got one for their birthday but it’s fine. Even now I’m still just the babysitter, I guess.”

Tears started to well in Eddie’s eyes and he lunged behind the counter to give Steve a hug. “Stevie, big boy, I’m so sorry! You deserve so much more than just a party today, baby. And you’re so much more than just the babysitter. You’re family to all of us, man.”

Steve shrugged again, “maybe that’s the problem. My family has never liked me either so that’s probably the case here too. It’s fine, I got my hopes up and I shouldn’t have. No one’s ever cared before so why would they start now?”

Eddie went to speak but a customer came in. Steve took their presence as a sign and pushed Eddie gently away from behind the counter. “I have to go help them, Eddie. See yourself out, okay? I’ll see you later.”

And then he was off to do his job and ignore the fact that Eddie was still watching him with tears in his eyes. He had other things to deal with today than Eddie’s hurt feelings. Like helping customers and trying to stomp down the soul-crushing disappointment in his chest. After all, what else could he have expected for his birthday?

Permanent tag list: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes

If you want to be tagged on all of my works, let me know!

#should I do a part 2 to fix this or just leave it as angst?#i love the implication that they forget Steve’s birthday every year #Steve just thinks that they don’t care about him as much as anyone else (or maybe at all)#His birthday has just never come up in conversation and no one realized #stranger things #steddie #steddie ish #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson

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duckapus · 2 months ago

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Fairly Oddparents/Splatoon Crossover AU

-Dimmsdale is in the Splatlands, and is still called that because if I change it to a fish pun I have to change Doug Dimmadome's name too and I don't want to.

-Fairies are still a Thing, and the relevant fairies are still the same (admittedly vague) ages they are in canon, so Cosmo and Wanda's generation showed up just in time to witness humanity's downfall; the floods, the domes, the professor, the final desperate failure in Alterna, all of it.

-Also all the other characters are their usual ages too, so any of the kids that I turn into Inkings or Octolings are going to be blobby for a while. With one notable exception that I'll explain when it comes up.

-The Turners are Octolings, but they're not from the Domes (hence why I put Dimmsdale in the Splatlands. I wanted them near where all the action is for reasons I'll get into later and Inkadia didn't have Octolings until after the first game's story mode while the Splatlands have always had them).

-Timmy still gets Cosmo and Wanda because his parents are still Like That, and his overbite is even more potent since it's made of the point of his beak instead of a pair of front teeth.

-Cosmo and Wanda almost look like an Inkling and an Octoling, respectively. They got a few details wrong, the biggest one being that they got their hair as close to what they're used to as they could but forgot to check if they had the right number of tentacles.

-Chester's an Inkling, no real notes there

-AJ is a bald Sea Urchin

-Crocker is an Inkling and other than the obvious details looks and acts pretty much exactly like he usually does, complete with neck ears

-Francis is a bull shark, as a reference to his "Bull-E" persona in the episode where everyone's superheroes

-Doug Dimmadome is a walrus (Marina mentions that her landlord is a Narwhal in Splat 2, marine mammal people exist)

-Vicky and Tootie are Octolings, and they are from the Domes but Vicky got them out. She actually hadn't heard Calamari Inkantation at the time, but Tootie had due to a Conveniently Placed Vent, and Vicky knew that anyone who heard that song would try to get to the surface and some of them didn't make it out alive and if even Elites hand-picked by DJ Octavio himself couldn't make it there's no way her seven-year-old nearsighted inkblot of a little sister would be able to get out on her own, but if she stayed she'd be miserable and trapped forever and that would be even worse, so Vicky packed their bags and grabbed Tootie and climbed for their lives despite very much not being freed from the Octarian propaganda by a weird magic folk-turned-pop song like everybody else who made this climb. They would've made it to Inkopolis like the other refugees but they made a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in Dimmsdale instead.

-Due to this she ends up having to raise her sister, get enough money to keep them both alive via Grizzco, babysitting and other odd jobs (she can't do turf or ranked/league because there's too much chance of her training/brainwashing kicking in and making her do something stupid Because Inklings like attack her own teammates or ignore the end-of-match whistle), teach Tootie how to speak Inklish and both of them how to read it, and figure out how to get them legal identities, all while every fiber of her being screams at her that The Enemy is all around them (it takes her the better part of a year after escaping to finally find and listen to the Inkantation, since she didn't know what it was called and wasn't high enough in the ranks to know anything about the Cuttlefish family). At fourteen.

-Chloe is an Inkling, and when she's introduced she already knows how to shift and is clearly used to it despite still being a month and a half or so away from turning twelve, which is... kind of a Bad Sign. Most Cephalings only manage that by thirteen or fourteen, though getting it at twelve, while uncommon, isn't unheard of. Any earlier and there's potentially health risks, especially since it almost has to be a case of the kid forcing it to happen (usually due to pressure and unrealistic expectations, often of the parental variety). And I mean big, "how prepared are you for your child to never be able to walk again" kind of health risks, though that's the worst-case scenario. In Chloe's case there were, in fact, negative effects, but nothing that drastic.

...No, she just starts aching all over if she spends too much time in squid form. And sometimes has stiff joints when it's cold.

-Haven't figured out what the rest of the human characters get turned into for this, but the alien and magical characters are still the same species they were in canon. And yes, the events of the show more-or-less stay the same.

-For a bit of post-series stuff, Timmy, Tootie, Chester and Chloe decide to try at being a comp team, and they're actually pretty good at it (thanks in large part to Vicky teaching them everything she learned from Grizzco, her time in the Octarian military and all the weird tricks she's had to pick up during their adventures). Their team's called the Twerpz and they've got a bit of an unusual lineup of preferred weapons.

Timmy (Splat Handle "No Ruelz" because of course it is) is the team captain and uses a Snipewriter 5H

Tootie (just uses her name) uses a Sloshing Machine Neo

Chester (uses his last name because of the whole infamous family legacy thing) uses the vanilla Splatana Stamper, and has discovered that he can use it like a baseball bat to knock away incoming bombs... aside from burst bombs since they explode on impact. Learned that one the hard way.

Chloe (goes by "3LeafClovr" because everyone thinks she's lucky when she's really not) uses a Luna Blaster Neo. She gets around the issue with her squid form by only shifting when absolutely necessary and compensating with Ink Saver (both kinds), Ink Recovery Up, a little Run Speed Up, and Parkour

So they've got a blaster that can't swim, a splatana that thinks he's in a completely different sport, their only backliner is a pencil, and not a single one of them has Ink Armor despite having two short-range weapons. It probably shouldn't work, but it does, because all four of them are completely nuts and using strategies concocted by a former Octarian soldier and Timmy coddamn Turner of all people

-Tootie ends up as Neo Agent 3. Thanks to being friends with Timmy Return of the Mammalians isn't even close to the weirdest thing that's ever happened to her. And yes this means that by that point she and Vicky have a Smallfry roommate. Tootie found him alone in the desert. Everybody calls him Shwaffle and there are absolutely zero thoughts between those big ol' eyes.

-The rest of the Squidbeak Splatoon is very confused and concerned by the things they hear about their new agent's friends and hometown

-When Timmy was twelve he and Vicky did something and now every gang in the Splatlands is scared shitless of them, including Deep Cut. They've never managed to tell anyone the full story of what exactly happened, though they will occasionally reference bits and pieces of it that sound absolutely batshit insane out of context

#splatoon #fairly oddparents #timmy turner #cosmo and wanda #chester mcbadbat #fop aj #denzel crocker #fop vicky #fop tootie #chloe carmichael #shwaffle the smallfry #fop francis #doug dimmadome #splatoon 3 #splatoon au #fop au #au where vicky gets to be a somewhat decent person and go through character development #i know next to nothing about competitive splatoon if this is actually a really good weapon loadout i apologize

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staybabblingbaby · 28 days ago

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Soulmate Garden AU Ch.4 (Lewisia) a2d3 Addition Post (+1,308 words)

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 2,866

TO THE UNAWARE: THIS IS A PROGRESS UPDATE OF A CHAPTER NOT REMOTELY CLOSE TO DONE! PLEASE DON'T EXPECT A FULL OR POLISHED PRODUCT HERE

Notes: The first addition post in the history of the archive! Huzzah! This chapter just keeps growing, I was expecting this to be shorter than Lino's chapter, but I think it's gonna be quite a bit longer. Some genuine editing notes - I think the transition into the flashback is a bit awkward and I would like to smooth out the whole morning sequence. I'm not even 100% sure what that vibe is and it shows. I also don't like the complete change in Reader's mood while she's talking to Jake, so I either have to make her morning more lighthearted or show her shoving her feelings down somehow. I genuinely operate like this, just code switching between private emotions and public face, so idk. What do y'all think? Is it was weird and jarring as I think it is? I also need to find a place to mention that this Stray Kid (dunno if I've mentioned who it is yet - obscuring just in case some of you haven't gotten it yet) is wearing a mask. I completely forgot to, but it's important for later. At a point in this one where I think I need another pair of eyes. Writing by yourself is hard :c

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: She/Her Reader, Flashback (yelling), pls lmk if this needs smthn more specific

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Main Part (Unfinished </3)

The next morning marks a return to routine.

You roll out of bed half awake, sleep-mused and ready for murder. Your mood isn’t improved by the way you’d gone to bed - still in your work clothes with day-after mascara gluing your eyelids together.

A quick stop by the restroom to strip and scrub your face is a necessity, otherwise you’re liable to just crawl back into bed and rot there. You brush your teeth while you’re there, doing your best to ignore the remaining traces of grey streaks down your cheeks where your eyeliner hadn’t been as water-proof as advertised.

You don’t even know why you’d cried. After all, it’s not like you were the one rejected by your soulmate for no reason.

You do your best to shake off the maudlin feeling of the morning, ambling your way into the kitchen. As tired as you are, you still spot your twenty on the counter where you’d left it. You press your lips together to stop the bottom one from trembling and open the fridge. There’s a plate of eggs, fruit, and toast inside.

Taylor, freak of nature that he is, has been up for hours already, you know. He’d probably been up and out the door before the sun had even thought about rising. Weirdo.

your roommate is well aware of how non-functional you can be in the morning, so it’s not unusual of him to leave you leftovers when he makes breakfast. The little note on top isn’t new either, usually a reminder, grocery list, or a little encouragement for your day. The whole thing makes you smile, usually.

Today that little note makes your eyes prick with a new wave of tears.

‘Give yourself a chance. Bet’s still on <3’

You very deliberately do NOT cry, though it’s a near thing. You’d done enough crying last night. But if you sniffle a bit into your eggs, well. That’s for you to know, isn’t it?

You leave the money where it is.

It’s a Tuesday, so after breakfast you drag yourself back to your room to throw on your largest, rattiest, t-shirt and a pair of leggings to head to the gym.

You can’t help it when eyes catch on the newly-bloomed marks on your skin as you strip away your sleepwear. You take a moment to wonder why looking at your mark, a daily ritual you’ve kept for years, feels odd to you.

It occurs to you, only after several long seconds of staring blankly at your stomach, that you hadn’t taken the time to look at your mark at all since since you’d met your first soulmate. Things have been... hectic, to say the least.

It’s no wonder looking at it feels weird. It might as well be a whole new mark, for all the changes that have happened since you last saw it.

You decide, in the name of returning to your routine for good, that you can’t skip even this tiny part of your daily rituals.

You shuffle over to your closet, swinging open the door to reveal the full-length mirror hanging on the other side. You don’t bother with your usual rounds of self-depreciation or daily affirmations. Instead, you find your eyes glued to droopy purple petals and blankets of white stars across your abdomen.

The names of the flowers come to mind with ease as you trace gentle fingers over echoes of delicate petals. ‘Bellflowers’ You recite to yourself, drawing your finger up thin stalks and back down dipped heads. ‘Edelweiss’ you muse, lightly tapping each fuzzy white star.

The knowledge comes easily to you, not from any cosmic force, but because of course it does. Your sister hadn’t been wrong when she’d said that asking a person’s favorite flower had been basically an obsession of yours.

The habit had started well before you’d gotten your mark. Before you’d even properly known what soulmates were, really.

Gardening with your mother had started as a way for her to drag you out of the house to get some sun while keeping an easy eye on you. Before your sister was born you’d spent many a joyous afternoon learning to work the soil beside your mother.

After the advent of your favorite gremlin, you’d spent those afternoons tending to the family garden alone.

You remember being grateful to the newborn back then. Those solitary afternoons were some of the most peaceful in your memory.

At some point the ‘family garden’ had become more ‘your garden’. Your mother wouldn’t even bother to plan it out with you by your sister’s toddler years. She’d drive you to the store, hand you a bit of cash, and leave it all in your tiny hands.

You’d spend hours researching the best ways to nurture your plants. What flowers liked being planted together, which ones should be separated. You learned about soil types and the nutrients found in them. You learned about ph. values, how to measure them, and why they mattered. Anything to have your garden thriving more brightly, more beautifully, for longer.

If you weren’t in the garden you were in the library by your house, nose buried in a gardening book.

You vividly remember the day it all went wrong.

It hadn’t even been that dramatic, as you recall. At least, not in terms of your parent’s usual fights. It was heartbreak- despair- that marked the day, instead of fear.

You’d been digging up weeds, clawing up deep roots with your gloved hands and a trowel, when your father had come storming outside. You don’t even remember what he’d said. Something about you always taking your mother’s side because of your shared hobby, you think.

Never mind that the woman hadn’t put so much as a toenail to the dirt since your sister had been born.

He hadn’t let up for quite a while, if memory serves. Stood there yelling at you in your safe space for close to an hour. Maybe two, but your child-brain couldn’t be trusted with the time. It might have just been minutes, now that you think about it.

Nonetheless, he’d yelled and yelled and yelled. He hadn’t trampled on or broken anything, hadn’t even made sense. And yet, when he’d finally left, everything was different.

The blooms you’d worked so hard to nurture were no longer beautiful, and the soil you’d once called home was no longer safe.

You hadn’t tended another garden after that season. You’d seen your plants to winter, and you’d let go. You’d turned away from the sun and soil and leaned into your books and silly questions to fill the hole left behind.

You’re sure you left claw marks in the dirt.

Something like a gentle humming fills your soul, and you notice how tightly you're clutching the garden around your waist. You gingerly pry your hands away and study the crescent moons you’ve left behind, soft skin indented where petals should have ripped.

You wonder if you’ll leave claw-marks in this garden too.

You tear your eyes away from the mirror, ignoring the gentle tingling up your side where your fingers had dug in. You quickly toss on a camisole, forgoing your usual privacy wraps, and your t-shirt over that.

There was nothing for emptying your mind quite like running yourself into the ground at the gym. With full awareness that you’re going to regret your gym session later, you flee your apartment.

Maybe jogging all the way to gym wasn’t such a great idea. It’d sounded fantastic at the time, a head start on your cardio and a way to remove yourself from your negative headspace before you tried to toss around weights you barely knew how to use.

It had sort of worked, but now you hadn’t even entered the building and you were already a sweaty, panting, mess.

After guzzling down half of your water bottle you enter the building, resignation in your heart. Cardio wasn’t even your focus today.

The automatic doors slide open with their usual swish, and you’re greeted by the familiar stale smell all gyms seem to share, no matter how clean. It’s comforting, even if you do wish you could go home already.

There’s someone already at the receptionist’s desk when you approach, talking in slow and measured English. You try not to be annoyed with the tiny delay, but your mood really hadn’t been helped by running from your thoughts, no matter what you’d hoped.

Alas, you’ve ventured into the public and so you’ve encountered a member of the public. Shocker. You cross your arms and bite back irritation that this complete stranger hadn’t done anything to earn.

Luckily enough, the low and measured cadence of the stranger’s voice is soothing enough to zone out to. Unfortunately, your latest obstacle is the only thing around to rest your eyes on, and so you find yourself studying his form.

His back is broad and built, huge biceps on display in a tight fitting black t-shirt. You kinda wanna squish them.

A vivid tattoo sleeve runs all the way down to his wrist, and you find your stare glued to it. Large boldly colored flowers take up the majority of the space, vague outlines of crashing waves and rolling mists fills in the rest in a luxurious combination of oriental art styles.

You can’t help but think it doesn’t look finished.

Dragging your eyes away from such beautiful ink is quite a task, but you don’t want to seem judgmental for your admiration. That arduous labor is made infinitely easier by how fine the man himself is.

You really can’t help the way your eyes trace up and down his form. It should be impossible, you think, to somehow bulk up in only the right places, but by Jove his man has done it. You’re quite jealous, honestly.

Your eyes come to a rest on the stranger’s backside. Quite jealous, indeed.

You try to shake yourself from your admiration, reminding yourself that there were very many well-muscled men in this place and that you’d always endeavored to keep a polite line-of-sight, even when they don’t. It hadn’t even been a hard ask, until now. You drag your gaze back up to the back of his head.

You’d be polite if it killed you. Even if neither the stranger or the scrawny receptionist had noticed your wandering gaze.

Especially then.

While you were.... distracted... the man’s conversation with the receptionist seemed to be going a whole lot of nowhere. From what you can gather, he’s looking for a short-term membership, and the receptionist is trying to tell him they don’t do that.

You know this to be true, even the trial period was an entire month. You’d specifically chosen this gym for that reason. If you hadn’t been able to stick it out for a month, you know you’d have never used the place enough to justify a membership.

Your sympathies to this stranger, it seems he really just needs a little less than a week. You know there are some no-commitment type places not too far though, so you wonder why he’s stuck on this place.

Their back and forth goes a while longer, but it’s evident that the beautifully-built stranger can’t really argue his case properly. Whether because of the obvious language barrier he’s working with, or because he’s run out of arguments, you can’t be sure.

Eventually he steps to the side to make a call, and you’re able to approach the counter.

The receptionist (you think his name is Jake. The owner’s nephew, if you recall correctly) looks relieved to see you after whatver hassling the stranger had given him. He lazily waves the clipboard and it’s sign-in sheet at you in greeting. You take the clipboard, trading him your membership card and driver’s license for it, and turn to prop your knee up on the counter to balance it while you write. Incidentally, your choice of position keeps the stranger in your line of sight.

You magnanimously ignore Jake’s gaze wandering to your chest, if only because you’re still looking not-so-respectfully at the tattooed stranger a few feet away.

“So what was that all about?” You ask him as you hand back the clipboard. He shrugs at you as he types a second longer.

“Some big-shot who needs a security detail,” He answers, unimpressed, “Says this is the only gym in, like, five miles of his hotel that he doesn’t need an entourage to go to.”

You hum your understanding, now trying to place if the handsome stranger was someone you knew of.

Such situations weren’t uncommon for this gym. Celebrities that actually lived in LA weren’t spotted here very often but, since it was settled very close to quite a few high-security luxury hotels, the building saw it’s fair share of famous faces.

Security was kept quite tightly, and a certain code of conduct was expected amongst the gym’s members. It was another justification for the long trial period, wherein one could only access the front room with the basic weights and machines. All the fancy stuff (including a pool, rock wall, dance studio, and all sorts) was in the back.

It was also another reason you yourself were a patron here. The high security and strict standards made for a quiet and comfortable atmosphere.

At least, as long as you ignored the judgmental stares.

“What’s the issue, then?” You question Jake, “Doesn’t the owner make exceptions for high-profile clients?” You phrase it as a question, but you know he does. The unfamiliar faces that pop up for a few days every now and then wouldn’t show up otherwise.

Jake just sighs like he’s had this conversation a thousand times. Considering the celebrity (?) waving his hands around as he spoke rapidly into his phone not far away, maybe he had.

“He does, but he’s out of town and no one else can adjust the contracts.” He eventually explains. He finally hands you your stuff back, and you hum consideringly as you put the cards back in your wallet.

Another glance at the furrowed brows on the stranger’s masked face has pity welling up your throat.

You turn your gaze to focus on Jake.

“Do I still have that visitor pass?” You ask him, knowing that he still has your details up. Jake glances at you with a raised eyebrow, but obligingly checks the computer.

“Yup,” He confirms, “You’ve been paying for it since you dragged your poor roommate in here that one time. Why?”

“Can he use it?” you nod your head to the frustrated stranger. From where you’re sat, still perched on the edge of the desk, it looks oddly like he’s begging whoever’s on the other line.

Jake levels you with his most deadpan stare. It’s quite a good one, completely unimpressed. You think it must be something about customer service that allows him to make that face. Or maybe it’s just you.

“You realize that your visitor pass is you vouching for your visitor’s character, right?” He reminds you, “If he does anything, breaks anything, pisses off the wrong lifeguard it’ll be on your head.”

You just shrug. It’s not like you couldn’t find a new gym if you had to. You’d miss this one, with it’s quiet atmosphere and abundant amenities, but you didn’t require it’s security and discretion like some of the other clients did.

“I’ve got a good feeling about it.” Is all you tell Jake. It’s not even a lie.

The poor boy just rolls his eyes at you. He still turns to rifle through the desk for the right form for you to fill out though, so you’ll take it.

“You a fan of his or something?” Jake asks as he hands you a different clipboard.

“Nope!” You answer cheerfully, starting to fill out the form, “No idea who he is.”

Jakes huffs an incredulous laugh, and turns a considering gaze on your new friend. And the stranger does have to be a friend now, because “some guy” is not an option on your paperwork.

“I bet he’s a wrestler,” he finally says after a long moment, “Or a sportswear model.”

You gently bop him on the head with your clipboard, “I refuse to participate in your speculation.” You admonish, ignoring his whining.

“I’ll show you his picture when you leave,” He smirks back, “and whatever google says about him.” He shrugs when you send him a cutting glare, “It’s not speculation then.”

“Respect your customer’s privacy, you weirdo.” You scold. He just laughs as you hand him the form, all filled out and just waiting for the stranger’s signature. You know full well that Jake will go through with it, regardless of what you say, so you give up easily.

He won’t get fired as long as you don’t blab outside of the gym. Privileges of nepotism. You exchange farewells as you hop off the counter, and he begins to wave over Mr. Celebrity. You meet the eyes of you on-paper friend and offer him a quick nod before you scuttle off deeper into the building.

Hopefully he’d be too grateful of your offer to find you terribly strange.

I could really use some feedback for this one, if y'all have the time. 人´∀｀) Especially regarding my dialogue and transitions. plsplspls I would be so grateful. My comments, dms, and ask box are all open

#skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #baby writes #skz fanfic #skz fic #w.i.p fic #w.i.p #SGAU #Soulmate Garden AU #Soulmate AU #skz soulmate au

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jben073 · 11 months ago

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Grace Chasity headcanon rambles!

Some silly Grace hcs for @nighthaterfrfr!! I tried to mostly avoid any of mine that you mentioned something similar to in yours bc we had a good deal of overlap! :D

(Just to preface, one of my biggest headcanons is that Grace is autistic so there’s a good chance that some of these may be influenced by that! I did try to pick ones that are more applicable to canon though! [But if anyone wants any of those, I have about a million :3])

When Grace was a young child in elementary school (or Sunday school), she very innocently kissed Alice Woodward and felt something™. (She entirely represses this memory for YEARS.)

^ During her eventual sexuality crisis, despite not having talked to Alice for years outside of polite conversation if they ran into one another, Grace reaches out to her for support/to ask questions because she was the only out queer person that Grace knew and trusted enough not to out her. (Alice big sister mode activated.)

^ (They’re so silly, they’ve literally never interacted outside of a throwaway line about them knowing and possibly disliking each other but to me they're friends who fell apart and eventually find each other again when they're both more grown as people.)

^ Also, ignore me indulging my other biggest hc which is that Grace is a lesbian.

Grace took piano lessons as a child and is actually quite good because she wanted to be the pianist for her church’s masses when she got older! She stopped taking lessons in high school, but she keeps up with playing in her free time to maintain the skill and occasionally help out with music at her church.

^ Richie constantly tries to convince her to learn anime openings and music from games that he plays for him (he begged her to learn Megalovania for weeks until she finally gave in).

She has never celebrated Halloween because her parents think it’s satanic so Ruth and Richie (who definitely still go trick-or-treating in high school) make a point to bring her some of their candy on the following school day.

^ She definitely doesn’t cry about this gesture later when she goes home!!

She is an absolute monster while playing board games, like she gets REALLY aggressive about them.

^ (definitely influenced by Angela's chaos on smosh games, especially the “be a little more gentle!! >:(” clip)

She can’t go to sleep (intentionally) without getting a kiss goodnight. At home, her parents kiss her on the forehead before bed and if she’s at camp, she has to get a kiss on the head from Girl Jeri if she wants to sleep well.

^ It disrupts her routine which makes it harder for her to wind down!!

^ I like to think that before the events of Abstinence Camp, she thought of Boy Jerry and Girl Jeri as older sibling figures.

She has never been to a sleepover because she’s never had good enough friends to be invited to one :(

^ The nerds + Steph very quickly remedy this!!

^ (quick ramble related to the last hc) During the first group sleepover, Steph wakes up in the middle of the night to get a drink, realizes Grace is still up, and after Grace sheepishly admits her dilemma following Steph’s prompting for an explanation, Steph very casually plants a kiss on her forehead and then goes back to sleep. Grace’s face is beet red after this and now she can’t sleep for an entirely different reason.

^ They're in love to me!!!

LIB related

(Based almost entirely on Blinky’s line about watching Grace and the nightmare about Max/Richie that implies she has the gift.)

^ Grace has been connected to the Lords in Black since long before we see her, Steph, and Pete summon them in NPMD.

^ Much like Lex was friends with Webby as a child and forgot, Grace was friends with the LIB when she was young but grew out of it.

^ (I have a whole little overanalysis/hc set of things for this hc if anyone wants to hear :3)

After she starts using the Black Book, her appearance starts to very slightly change so that she always looks just a tiny bit off.

^ Her teeth are just a touch too sharp, her ears have the slightest point to them, and her eyes almost seem to shift in colour (depending on which LIB is influencing her).

^ But hey, it must just be a trick of the light!! She's so normal!! Dw about it!!!

She will occasionally feel the sudden compulsion to bite others (Nibbly is feeling silly!!)

^ She does not act on this… most of the time :3

One more silly one to end on

She once owned a Tamagotchi and became so deeply stressed over the state of this virtual creature that she made herself sick from anxiety.

^ Karen and Mark confiscated the toy very shortly after this.

Anyway ramble's over now but my 45 page google doc of Grace hcs continues to grow every day bc I am fixated hard on this silly little show :3

edit: had to add the '^' thing because the bullets didn't indent properly for some reason!! every one that has that is attached to the previous one without it!

also idk why on mobile the sleepover hc and the Alice hc got cut short?? The sleepover one is supposed to say that now she can't sleep for an entirely different reason and the end of the second bullet says (Alice big sister mode activated).

#grace chasity #nerdy prudes must die #npmd #starkid #hatchetfield #nightmare time #stephanie lauter #lautity #stephgrace #starkid hcs

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whumpsday · 3 months ago

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Weird vampire physiology and society questions, interspersed with assorted random musings!

How does their dentition differ from a human’s? Are the canines just longer and sharper, or are they thicker/larger too? Are the bottom ones similarly shaped to the top ones? Do they bite (for feeding, or for combat) with just the top ones, or all four?

Do their eye colours vary, and if so, by how much? Do some vampires have more pinkish or even purple eyes? What about orange or yellow? Are their pupils round like a human’s and get larger to adjust to light (more similar to a human), or slit more like a cat’s and get rounder to adjust to light (more adapted to the dark)? Or something else? Do their pupils reflect light like a cat’s (another dark vision adaptation)?

How would the perfect healing thing change for a vampire born with a physical genetic disability? For instance, a vampire born without a limb, or blind, or with a muscular disorder. My guess is that the vampire returns to whatever “base state” is indicated by their genetics. How does that affect the vampire’s standing in society? Since vampires heal from all injury, I’m betting there’s even more ableism than there is amongst humans. Additionally, how rare is kane’s lack of persuasion? I’m sure he’s not the only one, but based on comments in the story, it seemed like having no persuasion at all was exceedingly rare.

On a similar note, do vampires have allergies, since that’s a case of one’s immune system overreacting to something? Do vampires with allergies just get extra hungry when the wrong flowers bloom because their bodies keep needing to “heal” from random environmental factors?

What are the blood types of the human characters in k&j? Are there blood types that are generally considered “tastier” in vampire society? (Of course there would be variation, after all, not every human thinks truffle mushrooms taste all that great, but we all agree that they’re more expensive and fancier.) Kane regularly mentions jim as being especially tasty, would most vampires agree with him?

Since vampires have more sensitive noses, do they (generally) like things like incense, perfume, scented candles, etc, or do they absolutely hate it? I would assume they’d want weaker scents than humans usually do, but it would also be much easier for one to notice a funky smell in a room and want to cover it up. (Also, given how many human candle scents are based on food, especially fruit and pastries, would vampires use blood as a scent?)

Feel free to answer or ignore as many of these as you want, i love your writing and find the setting fascinating and want to know more about it

dentition - longer and sharper, prob a bit thicker but not too much. bottom teeth are basically normal for a human, maybe a bit sharper canines but no added length. they bite with the top teeth for feeding.

eye colors vary very little. they have bright red eyes, and while exact shade can have slight differences, there won't be much. eyes are round like a human's and reflect light like a cat's, as they possess a tapetum lucidum. (tapetum lucidum is my fave part of the eye, i dissected a cow eyeball in biopsych class and cows have em too, they look super weird up close and out of the eye! i would... like to dissect a vampire eyeball...)

idk the blood types of my human characters... i actually may have mentioned it before but forgot... blood type won't really be too much of a determining factor at large, though certain humans or blood types might be tastier to individual vampires, but tastes vary greatly so there's no consensus. most of kane's family (ex. anton) would agree abt jim being especially tasty, but not all vampires.

liking fragrances or not would vary from vampire to vampire. weaker scents are indeed common. kane enjoys scented candles. blood is not too common a fragrance (though it does exist), and human food smells gross to vampires so it's never used. things like florals and pine and lavender and other natural non-food scents are used, as well as some things vampires can smell that humans wouldn't even be able to.

#ask #k&j ask

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creative-caramel-coffee · 11 months ago

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Momma bear

Pairings: Weems x Thornhill x Reader (platonic)

Word count: 1.8K

Summary: Reader is struggling with some pains and exhaustion while trying to find her feet at a new job. It's your scary boss that seems to be your saviour.

TW: Exhaustion, pain

A/n I’ve been slacking when it comes to posting on tumblr but I am still posting on my A03… I’m slowly catching up on tumblr. A03 linked in pinned post. Also this was a request i just forgot to make it a reply to the request. It was a request by 🕯anon.

It had been a long time since you walked these halls. You were a student last time you were here all those years ago. But now you were back. Nevermore seemingly hadn’t changed much. Training to teach outcasts was a hard job and so it made sense that for your first few months you had been assigned as a kind of assistant teacher to Ms Thornhill, just to show you the ropes before you stepped into a full teaching role. You were simply to shadow her and learn a bit more about the students and the way that classes were run now. With the new principal you had already seen some impressive changes around the school such as the normie teacher who was sat at her desk marking while. You watered the plants.

Your thoughts drifted back to your boss. To be honest she scared you quite a bit. She held an air of power around her than commanded respect and of course that made you more than a little nervous to be honest.

Watering the freshly potted white roses it was getting harder to ignore the pains and aches. Sneaking a glance at your future colleague who seemed still very wrapped up in her marking you brought your spare hand to gently massage the back of your neck. You bit your lip at the feeling of pain, muddled with relief. The pain in your neck traveled and you found yourself massaging your temples as it settled into a sizeable headache. Trying to focus on the task at hand you went back to watering with your now shaky hands wrapped around the white watering can. It was enchanted to always be full so at least that made it a little easier. It also felt empty which was good because your arms ached, fatigue rolling over you in crashing waves of unrelenting tiredness with the vigour of a lion it sank its teeth into you with vengeance. Noticing that Ms Thornhill has stopped scribbling on her students' papers and was now studying you closely you flushed, an uncomfortable warmth settling in your cheeks. You did your best to act normal and went back to work hoping Ms Thornhill didn’t think too much of it.

Unfortunately, she did. This wasn’t the first time she had become aware of your obvious discomfort. She knew you were anxious about the new job and the new boss, but she sensed something more was going on. This was around the fourteenth time in the last week you had seemingly been in pain, and she couldn’t in good conscience keep it to herself. She had a meeting with Larissa soon to discuss your progress anyway and had already decided to mention it to her friend then.

Deciding to take pity on you and avoid suspicion she waited a few minutes before dismissing you. The obvious look of relief on your face was palpable.

You were beyond thankful and said some quick words before hastily fleeing the classroom. You had barely taken off your shoes and flopped into bed by the time you were asleep, exhaustion winning out.

It was safe to say larissa was concerned. She quite liked you after all. You were polite and rather soft spoken but clearly highly intelligent, you would be a valuable member of her teaching staff and she was looking forward to getting to know you. However, she was quite aware of your nerves around her. When Marilyn had confided in her that you were seemingly unwell as of late, she and the botanist hatched a plan for Larissa to gain some firsthand insight into your work and discomfort. After they had polished off half a bottle of wine the two teachers had bid each other good night and gone their seperate ways.

The next afternoon you came to the observatory as always to help Ms Thornhill water the plants and set up for the next day of classes. However, upon reaching the threshold you did a slight double take at the second figure in the room. A small girl who you had seen from time to time in the halls or the back of the classroom on occasion was sat in the front row. Odd as classes were over for the day. Ms Thornhill looked up and smiled.

“Hello Y/n. I see you’ve met my friend here.” She smiled and you nodded at her and then the girl.

“Hello.” You said to the girl. “Im sorry i don’t think i caught your name.” You said studying her.

She was short, long curly blond hair which boarded on brown with light streaks in it and nevermore uniform in perfect condition. Her eyes were blue as the sky and her cheeks round and pink. She never seemed to make eye contact and had small silver sleepers in each ear. She wore lace up black combat boots and, in her hair, she had a blue bandana to keep the curls from her eyes. She wasn’t much younger than you.

“This is Lucy. Shes one of my third years. I told her she could study here this afternoon so if she needed any help with the classwork, we could provide it. Lucys a bit behind on the work.” Marylin explained and you nodded and smiled at Lucy.

“You can call me Ms L/n.” You winked. “I’ll lend a hand if you need it.” You walked over and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Im nicer than Ms Thornhill.” You said with a joking smile and Marilyn rolled her eyes and the girl lifted a brow. “Alright.” You said clapping your hands, “the plant babies need me. Ms Thornhill here has been neglecting her parental duties again I see.” You said eyeing the plants which were looking a little sad. You shot her a look and Marilyn poked her tongue out at you making you gasp dramatically. “See what i have to put up with.” You said turning to Lucy and winking.

“Watering cans on the shelf Y/n, stop flirting and get to work.” She said with a grin. You blushed slightly and stood up straight to salute.

“Yes sir.” You said and went to grab the tools you needed. A good fifteen minutes passed, and both the student and teacher seemed to be scribbling notes while you busied yourself with the plants. With them both distracted you hovered a hand over the dragon's root and muttered some words under your breath. Warmth spread to your fingertips which glowed a soft purple and the plants leaves grew larger and healthier. You smiled and stroked the green tips of the new shoots your magic had made. Unaware of the shapeshifters eye on your back.

After deadheading some flowers and propagating some plants you were back to watering. You could feel the pain coming back and you had to bite down a groan. Why now? Why again now? You wondered and tried to subtly bring a hand to your throbbing shoulder.

Blue eyes followed your every move as you gently rubbed at your neck and left shoulder. Your head pounded and your mouth felt dry. You were beyond tired, and your shaking hands made it harder to control the flow of water as you split some on the desk. A slight pink hue took to your cheeks, and you closed your eyes to take a quiet steadying breath.

Lucy and Marilyn exchanged a silent conversation behind your back while you tried to ignore the pain.

“You’re free to go Y/n.” Ms Thornhill said, and you nodded and slowly left without a word.

The next day you were called into Larissas office. The pain from yesterday hadn’t left as you knocked on her huge oak doors.

“Come in.” A soft voice called from inside. You drew a shaky breath and entered.

Ms weems sat there in her natural poise of grace and charm. You smiled awkwardly and closed the door behind you, coming over and sitting down in the chair in front of her desk.

“Ms L/n, let’s take this to the couch why don’t we.” She said with a kind smile you nodded. Clutching your hands together to try and make the shaking less obvious. Your brow was slightly pinched as the light made your headache worse and you felt bone tired.

Ms Weems lips thinned as she took in your obviously pained state, eyes not missing a single detail on your face.

She stood and helped you up leading you with her hand on the small of your back to the couch where she sat beside you.

You stifled a yawn as she patted your knee gently.

“Ms L/n��Y/n. Can i call you Y/n?” She asked and you nodded through the fatigue. “Thank you. I can tell your exhausted darling. You’re obviously in pain. And i say this as a friend rather than your boss. What can i do to help you sweetheart?” She asked and you blinked at her owlishly before letting out a small huff of a laugh.

“I don’t think you can.” You sighed and massaged your temples with your fingers. You rested your head against the back of the couch and shut your eyes letting your hands fall to your sides.

“Oh Y/n.” Larissa said as she took in your state. “Talk to me darling.”

“I’m so tired.” You said not opening your eyes. “My head hurts, my neck hurts, my damn shoulders hurt. My hands won’t stop shaking and I’m so so tired. Im exhausted and all i do is sleep.” You said trying to keep the whine out of your voice.

“Oh sweetheart. Come here.” Larissa said as she pulled you in for a hug. You collapsed into her side and rested your head on her shoulder while she gave you a side hug. Your eyes, which had opened for a moment drifted shut again. You drew a deep breath of her expensive perfume and let your head stay nestled on her shoulder. After a moment you felt a hand start to rub at your neck and you let out a soft moan of content, your cheeks flushing.

Larissa smiled kindly. “It’s alright.” She said shushing you. “You’re in pain darling. It’s normal.” She said and you let yourself succumb slightly to the fatigue. “Rest darling.” She said and before you did you felt a blanket being draped over the both of you before her hands retuned to your neck. Kneading out the knots with just the right amount of pressure.

You felt warm and loved. Feeling sleepy and safe as you began to fall into the clutches of sleep you began to mumble to larissa.

“I thought you were scary, but your just momma bear.”

“Quite right darling. Now rest. I’ll be here when you wake up. I won't leave your side honey. Im right here and I’m going to help you feel better.” She said and you smiled as soft snores came from you, your breathing evening out nicely against Larissa’s side as she held you close.

#weems #thornhill #sicfic #whump #fluff #comfort #platonic #reader #self insert #wednesday addams #fanfic #fan fiction #shapeshifter #illness #sick r #exhustion #teacher r

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randomperson0k · 9 months ago

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the evil thoughts got me fucked up and shit

OH forgot to mention: top 2 images are the final 'redesign', 2 images below are concept sketches i made for the 'redesigns'

tgs jekyll and hyde but they got evaporated by my evil headcanon beam and stitched back together by somebody who has no experience with using a needle and thread to the point where theyre more just like a seperate character

im sorry for my sins

PLEASE HEAR ME OUT BEFORE BITING A CHUNK OUT OF MY ARM. if anybody wants to read about my evil headcanon world all the stuff is below. wasnt really exaggerating when i said i ripped their character apart and stitched them back together though.

i do have a google doc full of everything i headcanon for tgs but some of that is embarrassing as hell so im just slapping the important stuff here

most of these 'headcanons' are here more because they make me happy than to actually make any sense. as a warning.

smokes fat blunt puffs it in your face anyways uh trans henry jekyll yeah (gets shot) ty person from the j&h community i was messaging that dragged me to the dark side and introduced me to the world of embracing my j&h trans headcanons. a true angel.

i really like more book inspired takes on j&h than the musical ones soo uhh.. yeah theyre the same person fully no j&h arguing thing. im soooorrrrryyy its just my preference for adaptations and i find it a lot more fun to play with story wise. also some other reasons but i wont get into those

polyamorous and bisexual (bi because... obvious reasons. poly because of that one couple they meet up with in the comic every now and then. my favourite ... ship (i think thats the right term?) in the comic. i love them.)

gas mask because it looks cool + chemical shenanigans ("oh but those didnt exist" shh. shhhhh.")

speaking of chemicals! they are much more into science. mostly does science-y stuff when theyre hyde though. they like to break into lodgers rooms and contribute to experiments.

facial hair. thats it. no further reasoning will be given

tried making jekyll in the concept redesign of him look older. failed SO bad im sorry i know its horrible.

hyde has pointy ears + pointer teeth (and green tongue because potion goop) + slit pupils because i am incapable of designing a human hyde. i have no idea why but i just cant.

earrings because 1: i have a bad habit of giving designs earrings and 2: i remember seeing a few headcanons of j&h with earrings and they were so tasty to look at so i had to do my own

bandage scarf thing from the beta tgs hyde design + newer tgs design that only shows up in the mind... world.... thing.

added the uhhh goggles from the old design too.

red and green hat because i couldnt decide if i wanted hyde to have the red hat from the old design of tgs hyde or the green hat from the current design. ripped it in half and chose both. great decision making i know

chunks of brown hair in hydes because why not. also red ring around one eye as like a weird variant of half heterchomia.

hyde has weird patches of green colored skin idk it just looked cool when i was fiddling with colors so i kept it

hyde has red scales in certain spots of the design. no further explanation

gave hyde black gloves to contrast jekylls white gloves + cmon. hyde probably touches the most gross revolting shit with the places they go to. they deserve some gloves.

changed their body type a litttttle bit just a smudge

i was going to give jekyll a cravat around the neck (a really bad designing habit of mine is to give characters cravats. not my fault they look so cool) both as a fancy thing + to hide lack of a adams apple buuttt the design felt way too clumped so im scrapping that. ignore the cravat in the drawing. grrr bARKBAKRABK

actually does sparkle visually/not just as a non-existent visual effect and people can actually see it. lanyon always swats them away because the sparkles get in his face.

hyde is more shorter than shown in the comic, more like book hydes height. like a foot or more shorter than jekyll. jekyll stays around the same height though. hydes probably the shortest one in the society.

permanent eyebags. does not sleep but cmon we all already knew that

hyde has a strong scottish accent instead of the other accent he fakes in the comic that i always forget the name of

has a cane like the og book. its a sword cane.... yeah i have a addiction, im sorry. (like half my own personal characters have sword canes)

i suck so bad at drawing shoes so hydes shoes look like ass but theyre supposed to be big boots since this guy probably walks through yucky mucky areas and stuff

i would totally write some oneshots or something like that of these guys going on adventures doing experiments and stuff yknow . (stuff like lodgers content and interactions, lanyon and hyde interactions because i enjoy secret identity and person said secret identity personal knows outside of their secret identity interactions, that one couple i talked about before interactions with jekyll/hyde and just in general random oneshots that make no sense) if i actually had any literacy skill

anyways im done my ramble. now you guys can shoot me

#the glass scientists #but like #i ruined it #sorry guys i sneezed on tgs j&h theyre trans and neurodivergent now #embracing my cringe #tgs hyde #tgs jekyll #but extremely torn apart #not literally torn apart i mean figuaritytuibjvbvkvj #posting this knowing its gonna get me on atleast 7 different peoples hitlists #ok im gonna go snore mimimi now #my tgs headcanon world

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bougiebutchbinch · 19 days ago

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Okay so I don’t think my ask went thru bc I sent a link to a fic and I forgot that Tumblr doesn’t like actual links on anon. Anyways, ignore this if you still received the other one! I saw this fic and immediately thought you’d devour it… but I saw someone else already sent it to you! (The professional dom one :3)

I cannot stress enough how much that fic makes me insane. I had to close my laptop screen no less than six times so I could walk away and gather myself before continuing on. Because holy crap. Anyway! I also read another fic that I thought you would like, however, it is a Scott/Logan fic. I’m not sure if you jive with that so I’m not going to link it here unless you’re chill with it.

Top!Logan who mauls the life out of his very willing, very enthusiastic partners will always be something I will eat up like a fish deprived of water. I don’t have many mutuals who vibe with poolverine as hard as I do that I can send these to, so as the designated Top!Logan and Trans!Poolverine connoisseur of this corner of the internet… I am gently placing this on your doorstep.

It is so solidified in my mind that Logan will try to devour his partners whole if they’re wanting and willing. He wants to bite and claim what’s his. But I also see him wanting that exact same energy back. If you will allow me to elaborate here for a brief minute:

Logan would want to feel like he belongs to someone else just as much as he wants his beloveds to belong to him. In this case, Wade. He and Wade are obviously matched in ways that others cannot even begin to comprehend. Wade matches his crazy, as Logan matches his. Physically, mentally, spiritually, these two are made for each other.

That being said, Logan would be just as disappointed that he cannot be marked as he is that Wade cannot be marked—not for more than a few seconds, at least. But does that stop them? Fuck no. Absolutely not.

The pair of them getting to it, approaching a state of mind that could only be described as delirious off one another, and Logan is holding the back of Wade’s neck, lifting him up a little so he can kiss his dearest, his beloved, his Wade.

It’s a biting kiss, more teeth than anything, but it’s loving. Wade knows it’s how Logan gets when he’s in the heat of the moment, but there isn’t anywhere else he’d rather be. But when Logan pulls back, he keeps Wade’s face close to his neck and shoulder and states with no room for argument or doubt… “bite.” And who's Wade to say no to him? Especially when he says it like that... the man makes a very compelling argument.

Anyway! Logan would want to be claimed in return. Their healing factors certainly get in the way sometimes, but they’re smart. They can get creative with it. It’s been ages I feel since I sent that ask about the dog tags… but I think you get the idea. They have options, and they have all the time in the world to figure out a way to make it stick. Logan is nothing if not loyal and hopelessly devoted to the people he loves. *^-^*

I LOVE ALL OF THIS TIMES A THOUSAND!!!!!

I'm sorry for not answering your previous ask - I get a lot of asks, but my spoon-level is VERY variable. I'm dealing with a lot of academic work on top of my already hectic and unpredictable work schedule! That + disabilities means that lots of EXCELLENT content gets buried in my askbox, because I just do not have the energy to scroll through some days.

It's not a comment on the quality of the content in any way, or my enjoyment of it! Just a miserable effect of The Disabilities Being Disabling. I can't change my inability to look at every ask - but I do genuinely apologise.

But GODDDD yes, I love that fic SO MUCH. It ate my brain, spat it back out, then ate it again.

I'm not into Scogan.... YET. But I could be convinced!!!

And - YEAH. I am just incapable of seeing Logan as anything BUT helplessly devoted in his love <3 man is so desperate to care for people and shower them with affection and bring them happiness - even if it's hidden beneath a very gruff exterior!

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wordywarriorwrites · 1 year ago

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Heat

Heat | A03 | Rating: M

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F! Reader

Summary: You and Frankie take the next step in your relationship.

Warnings: A/B/O. NSFW. Smut. Language.

The house smells like you.

Your scent permeates every corner, filling Frankie’s lungs and clouding his senses the moment he steps inside. The windows are wide open, welcoming in the cool, fall breeze, but the strength of the wind billowing the curtains and rushing through the house does nothing to dissipate it.

Ambrette, citrus, and ylang-ylang – he can taste it in the air. Just like a siren’s song, the urge to seek more of it is too powerful to ignore, and as soon as he sheds his coat and kicks off his boots, he lets his nose lead him past the kitchen, out of the living room, and into your shared bedroom.

The afternoon sun is high, and bright streaks of light coming in from the window above the clawfoot bathtub catch on the sweat beading your brow and along the column of your throat. Frankie wants to lap it. Savor it. Swallow it down.

Fuck, he’s so hungry for you…

But you’ve been off for the past few weeks. Moping. Pouting. Making him sleep on the couch only to wake him in the middle of the night and insist he return to bed because you can’t sleep without him. You’ve been quick to anger and even quicker to tears, watching movies and reading books that upset you that much more. Frankie’s lost count of the number of times he’s catered to your nesting urges, and sex, once consistent and passionate, has seesawed between ferally enthusiastic or entirely absent.

You swear it’s nothing.

But you called off work today. Now, you’re weaving on your feet, head dangling over the sink as if you may tip over at any second. Rivulets of water are streaming down the back of your neck, sliding off your mouth and chin to stop at the collar of your shirt. Your teeth are chattering, fingers curling into claws against the countertop as you groan and curse your discomfort.

It’s not nothing. It’s very much something. In fact, it’s everything.

He sends a couple of texts – one to his boss to clear his schedule for the time being, and the other to the guys, telling them to keep away until he says otherwise. Frankie doesn’t wait for responses; once the messages are out, he shuts off his phone, absentmindedly dropping it onto the nightstand and directing the entirety of his focus onto you.

“Hermosa?” he calls, tone low and steady as he slowly approaches. “You alright?”

“I forgot,” you breathe, furrowing your brow and pressing your hand to your lower abdomen. “I forgot how bad it hurts.”

The distress and pain you feel – it rushes through the bonding mark so furiously, so swiftly, that it causes the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up.

“Y’smell good enough to eat, guapo,” you croon, voice straining and breathy.

He chuckles and inches closer, “You should’ve called me. I would’ve come back sooner.”

You shake your head slowly, “You were in the air. Wasn’t gonna interrupt that.”

“You need me, you call,” Frankie barks testily. “Nothing’s more important than you.”

You’re too stubborn for your own damn good – jutting your chin and sticking out your tongue as if it were no big deal. As if today was just another day. Frankie, on the other hand, has been preparing for this since the moment you stopped taking your suppressants and birth control over a year ago, and he’ll be damned if he’s not at home with you for every, single moment of it.

The changes in you over the past twelve months have prompted his own, special type of metamorphosis. While not nearly as drastic or severe as what you’ve gone through, his own body, behavior, and way of thinking have significantly altered.

Adding on extra pounds, not cutting his hair, drenching himself in your scent, and encouraging you to renew the mark you graced him with – they’re all outward displays showing he’s strong and capable of taking care of his Omega and whatever offspring he may have with you. It also proves to unmated females and other Alphas looking to court that you’re his, he’s yours, and he intends to breed you.

The heightened aggression, the need to protect you and the home you made together, and the urge to have you beneath him at all times – they’re all indicators that your fluctuating hormones have been doing their job, and he can physically, mentally, and emotionally feel you pulling him into a rut the likes of which he hasn’t experienced since first presenting.

Frankie’s been stocking up on essential supplies while you’ve been not-so-subtly covering the bed with endless blankets and pillows to burrow in. You’ve been wearing the same shirt – his favorite shirt – for four days, and he can’t get you to take it off, even just to wash it. He also hasn’t showered in three days because all the books say not to, as it’ll be his unaltered, natural scent that grounds you and comforts you through it.

Your first heat together. The first time trying for young together.

“Cariño, I think it’s time,” he murmurs.

You swallow a handful of water and let out a ragged breath, “I know.”

Frankie takes it upon himself to turn off the tap, and as the water gurgles, he reminds you that you’re safe. You’re shaking, wincing with every breath, and he reassures you that everything you need is in the bedroom. He offers you a steady hand, and you place your trembling one in his, allowing him to guide you out of the ensuite.

“We talked about this,” Frankie whispers against your temple, fingers reaching for the snap on your jeans. “We’re ready for this, aren’t we?”

You nod. Let out a croaky, ‘yes.’ He lowers the zipper and wrangles the well-worn denim past your hips and over your knees. Kneeling at your feet, he helps you step out of your pants and slips your socks off one by one. You’re already writhing, skin clammy and hot to the touch. Your scent, combined with your arousal, is so much stronger now, making his mouth water and his cock throb.

This isn’t his first rut, and it’s difficult to put a leash on his baser instincts, to handle you with the delicacy and patience you deserve for your first heat with him, but he manages it. He can do anything, endure anything, for you.

Frankie swallows hard and looks up at you, “I’ll take care of you. Promise.”

You stare down at him – lips parted and eyes dilated, chest heaving and limbs tight. A tear slips down your cheek, and your stomach jumps when he presses a gentle kiss to the freckle above your belly button.

He rises slowly, careful not to startle you. Mouth pressed into a hard line and fingers twisted in the hem of your damp t-shirt – he takes his own steadying breath and reminds himself this moment is precious, meaningful, and not to be spoiled.

It takes effort to peel the cotton from your body, and your bra isn’t much better, the fabric straining and digging harshly into your skin. Frankie knows you’re uncomfortable, when he releases the hooks and gently slides the straps from your shoulders, you sigh. It’s that tiny, almost inaudible sound of relief that buoys him, fills his chest with something indescribable – makes him feel like a man worthy of his woman and an Alpha capable of servicing his Omega.

“I can’t – I keep fucking crying,” you blurt, shoulders curled, and head bent.

“S’okay, cariño,” he sighs, rocking you gently and nuzzling your neck. “I got you.”

You make a sound in the back of your throat that vibrates through him, giving him a headrush that makes his hindbrain lean into you, into your mating, even more. You settle enough to undress him, and Frankie watches with rapt attention as your instincts unfurl like a clenched fist.

Each seemingly insignificant action becomes tender, almost reverent, and absolutely wondrous. The way you look at him and scent-mark him. How you carefully touch him and move with him. The need to dominate, to assert his control, to make you present yourself to him – you’re somehow channeling it, meeting it, and feeding it with your own calming nature, and it brings a new balance to his rut that he’s never felt before.

It’s a sacred dance. Ritualistic. Sensuous. Something your kind have done since the beginning of time and will no doubt continue to do long after the two of you are dust.

When you’re both naked and settled deeply into the nest you built, the weight of it all, the seriousness of it – it’s still there, but it becomes less of a burden and more of an honor. The two of you are as you’ve always been – bared to each other, vulnerable, but safe. Committed. Loving.

“Te amo,” you murmur. “So much, Frankie.”

Frankie presses a kiss to your forehead, “I love you, too, hermosa.”

The corner of your mouth quirks – a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it thing that gets wiped away when you cup his cheek and kiss him, and he simply melts into you, into the assurance of your touch and the comfort of your presence and the way it all just clicks into place.

Tears return. This time, you let out great, heaving sobs of relief when he gets you off with his fingers, and his own scent surges in response to mingle with yours. Your release takes the edge off the pain and eventually gives way to even more pleasure when he puts his mouth to use to make you come until your thighs shake.

“Papi,” you entreat, fingers tugging at his curls. “I – I need…”

“I know querida,” he groans, licking into your mouth. “Let me give it to you, yeah?”

His mustache is covered in your slick. Your inner thighs are littered with his teeth marks. The peak of your nipple against the flat of his tongue and the heel of your foot pressing into the meat of his ass. You’re lying on your side, and he takes you just like that – bodies slotting together like two puzzle pieces as he bottoms out in a single thrust.

Your core is molten and saturated, fluttering and squeezing, and you hold him in an embrace that’s simultaneously tender and urgent. The soft sounds you make, the way your breath stutters, and how your tongue tastes when he sucks on it. There’s no hiding your greed, or how desperately he wants to breed you, and when you bare your teeth and demand more from him, the pleased rumble Frankie lets out is more beast than man.

“Fuck, you feel s’good,” he grunts, digging his fingers into your thigh, allowing his hips to swing freely for a moment before slowing. “I’m tryin’ not to – I don’t wanna…”

You nip at his chin and rake your nails down his shoulder, “M’ready. I can take it.”

It doesn’t take much to maneuver you into place, and you fall into the presenting position with such graceful ease, with such eagerness, that something in his chest tightens.

Lazy thrusts morph into harsher snaps of his hips. You go lax, limbs supple and spine melting, and when the tears fall this time, you’re smiling – brow smoothed, looking resplendent, and entirely pleased with yourself. He slips a hand between your thighs and strokes clit, bringing forth another rush of wetness that will make the next part easier.

When you’ve saturated his groin, Frankie finally drapes himself over your back, rocks into you as deeply as your body will allow, and digs his teeth into your scent gland until you yip out a comingled sound of submission and pleasure.

“Tell me, mi pequeño lobo,” he pants in your ear. “Tell me you want this.”

“I want this,” you repeat throatily. “I want you. Please, Alpha…”

It’s as if your words are the permission he needs to give in to the instinct – to finally let go and do what needs to be done. Supporting you, protecting you, and loving you – it’s just the beginning of a story that’s still being written. Breeding you, knowing it will likely be successful, that he’ll have made you his in the most primal of ways – that’s the next chapter.

Frankie’s orgasm is indescribably, incomparably intense. A prolonged release that feels too good, one that’s on the knife’s edge of pain, somehow bringing forth feelings of helplessness and complete control. The delirious sense of peace he feels when he knots you. And when you come again for him, and your body just takes it all – accepting everything he has to offer – it’s wonderous in the extreme.

Spooning you to keep you close, to supply comfort, to keep you warm, and to ensure nothing is lost or wasted – it’s as natural as breathing. Eyes welling. Pride surging. Frankie’s seen you safely through the first wave, and again, it’s your sigh and contentment coming through the bond that lets him know he’s done everything right.

“We’re ready for this,” you tell him, voice full of excitement and certainty.

“Si, mi corazón,” he agrees, your echoing of his earlier words renewing his own conviction and joy. “We’re ready for this.”

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