#and like i have to give it up for another topic

[ultramaga]

a) There's no link to the original post, let alone some archive. We have no idea what he said, or even if he corrected himself later, or even if this is an outright lie. Leftists have a terrible relationship to honesty as the foundational statement is "Truth is a Social Construct". b) The ADL and Israel say it wasn't the Nazi salute, despite the ADL being incredible sensitive to anything vaguely right wing - It's ok to be right, the ok symbol, etc. c) linking to a frame rather than the full unedited video is a Coolsville tactic that makes me inclined to assume the author is a Leftist who outright knows they are lying - I could link to countless other left wing figures in the same position. "jews have been sounding the alarm about the rise of antisemitism" Yes, there certainly are a lot of people killing jews lately - and they are supported by Leftists. And opposed by conservatives. Huh.

Guess we're just skipping over the entire movement that is dedicated to exterminating jews now.

"antisemitism is a canary in the coal mine for fascism" It's unconnected. Japanese fascists did not give a fuck, and if anything helped protect jews. Mussolini said that the Nazi obsession with race as a distraction, but later tried to suck up to the Nazis when they turned out to be more successful. And the communist persecution of jews was notorious.

Plus, you seem to be skipping over two thousand years of antisemitism that occurred before fascism had existed.

A fascist jewish state would not be a contradiction in terms - and many Leftists already claim Israel is fascist. Being jewish doesn't make you an expert, it makes you jewish. As many historians pointed out, there were many members of the Nazi Party who were ethnically jewish.

The tests were argued about endlessly because separating jews and germans was a nightmare - the two groups had mingled and merged*.

The Leftist claim that there is a racial hierarchy, and certain people are intrinsically superior on topics simply by birth sounds very familiar. Race. Ism. Race. Ism. Gee, I wonder if that could be shortened? It sounds like a bad idea in any case. *

Addendum: So I had a look at the source - and he's a Leftist. As such, he doesn't believe in Truth to begin with. If your starting point is that there is no objective reality, then there is no chance of honesty. The dude constantly proclaims he is THE holocaust historian, and denies any opposing views exist.

So classical education is "alt-right" - which is an undefined buzzword term used by Leftists to shutdown thought. Nah, bitch, classical education was around for the last two thousand years. To decide that only a Nazi would want to read about Roman history is a typical Leftist tactic, because they hate historicallyeducated people, such folk know that they are wrong, they want INNDOCTRINATED people, which is why he obsesses endlessly about the need to purge home schooling. So what other dirty tricks does he use?

"trad christian"??? Sorry, but almost all christians are trad christians. The few american christians calling for the transing of kids are a tiny minority.

Catholics and Orthodox are the vast majority. His contempt for "trad christians" is typical for a Leftist, sure, but to use the term whilst claiming academic prowess as historian just means that you despise history, and love propaganda and historical revisionism instead.

I could go on, but pronouns in the bio is a bit of a give-away, and I noticed posts on "whiteness" and how architecture is "white-coded" and ... this man is clearly just another fascist, they just have their racism directed at different targets.

jews have been sounding the alarm about the rise of antisemitism and neo-nazi rhetoric around the world for years now, and have been largely dismissed by all sides of the political spectrum. they’re playing the victim, they’re exaggerating, they’re lying, they’re a distraction from other more important issues, etc etc.

i hope this can be a wakeup call for many. if this is shocking to you, i urge you to find jewish voices and creators to follow. antisemitism is a canary in the coal mine for fascism and jewish people are the ones most equipped to recognize it and oppose it.

we will all need each other more than ever for what’s to come. make sure the coalitions and networks you build include jewish people too.

[stevesgother]

Chalkboard Hearts - Pt IV

Pairing - KindergartenTeacher!Steve Harrington x SingleMom!Reader

WC - 5.6k

Summary - A snow day prompts Steve and Abbey to spend a little one on one time together.

AN - sorry this one took a little longer! being creative is hard when the U.S keeps sucking me of all my joy. thanks for the patience, love y’all! ~ emma

Three weeks ago, your daughter’s kindergarten teacher gave you his phone number in a chilly, deserted diner parking lot, and every weekday since that night, Abbey has had to all but drag you from his classroom when you go to pick her up in the afternoons. One topic leads to another and another, and before you realize it, you and Steve have been chatting in his mostly empty classroom for over an hour. But this morning, you’re dialing those digits he gave you on your landlines keypad for the first time with shaky fingers. You’d spent the past hour exhausting all your other options. Your mother? Working. Your sister? Out of town. Your usual babysitter? sick.

Steve was the only person you knew for a fact wouldn’t be working today.

It wasn’t for a lack of wanting to that you hadn’t called yet. Every waking hour since that night, you had been wrestling with yourself about what an appropriate reason would be. Was he flirting with you? Did he genuinely just want you to have access to him in case of an emergency? Both? Your inner dialogue was deafening– like a squawking bird in the back of your brain.

The intrusive volume of your thoughts seemed to quiet now as your leg bounced impatiently– anxiety over the prospect of having to call into work outweighing your trepidation– waiting for him to pick up the call on the other line. 

He finally answered halfway through the fourth ring, “Hello?” Despite the early hour, Steve sounded wide awake. Probably rousing at the same time you did, not expecting to be temporarily blinded by three feet of bright, white snow piled on top of his car. On the kitchen radio, you can hear the newscaster announcing a closure of the local schools.

“Steve, it’s Y/N,” your voice cuts through the static.

He pauses briefly, yours probably being the last voice he expected to hear when he picked up his phone, “Hey, morning–” he clears his throat, “everything alright?”

“Yes– well– I don’t know.” You rub the tips of your fingers restlessly over your closed eyelids, “I don’t have anyone to watch Abbey with the school being closed, I've tried everyone and I really hate to ask but–”

“Of course, I can be there in thirty. Can you give me your address?”

“Are you sure, Steve? I can just call out if–”

“Don’t be ridiculous, just give me your address,” his incredulity and lack of hesitation sends the wings fluttering about in your stomach again, while cementing the reassurance of his words. You gain the courage to repeat your home address for him to write down.

You can hear the sound of pen hastily scratching paper, then after a few beats of silence he speaks again, “It’ll take me a little bit to clear off my car, but I’ll be there as soon as I can,”

“Thank you so much, you have no idea.”

“Don’t mention it,” you can hear the grin in his voice, can picture the flash of perfect white squares, “see you soon,” you breathe a heavy sigh of relief at the click of the receiver being placed back in its cradle. Abbey is bundled up on the couch watching Rugrats, a bowl of cereal in her lap. Normally, you wouldn’t let her eat in the living room, but you needed respite from her usual game of 20 Questions to make some phone calls.

“Hey, Ab,” you say as you approach her, thoroughly engrossed in her cartoons, “Is it okay if Mr. H comes over and watches you today while mommy goes to work?”

The question is more than enough to pull her focus from the television screen. Her face lights up like the Fourth of July as she nearly spills her cereal with the force of her straightening on the sofa, “Really?” She asks hopefully.

“Yes, grandma is working and Julia is sick. Is that okay?” As excited as you know she is, you want her verbal confirmation. Mostly because you’d never put your child in a situation she’s uncomfortable in; but a smaller, more selfish part of you wants to be absolved of the guilt you feel for having to leave her all day.

Your wish is granted almost instantly as she squeals and hops off the couch where she’d been lounging, placing her bowl on the coffee table. Halfway to her room, she calls, “Mommy! Where are my coloring books?”

“They’re on top of your bookshelf,” you call, “don’t make a huge mess, please!”

“I won’t!” She replies, muffled through the drywall separating you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You hadn’t had time to tidy the house or make yourself look even remotely presentable before Steve arrived. If it weren’t for the relief that floods your body upon seeing his car pull in the driveway, you might even be a little embarrassed. Booted footsteps shuffle up the porch as you’re shoveling things into your bag at the last minute, followed by three light knocks on the door.

“Coming!” You shout from where you stand in the dining room.

Before you even have the chance to reach the foyer, Abbey is darting from her bedroom in plastic play shoes and throwing the door open with immeasurable enthusiasm.

“Hey–” Steve starts, expecting it to be you before he realizes who’s greeting him, “Oh, hi Ab,” he waves to the little face staring up at him, “Where’s your mom?”

“Mommy!” Abbey calls, “Mr. H is here!”

Steve spots you holding two pieces of notebook paper clad with chicken scratch scribblings. You look frazzled– hair thrown up hastily and scrubs wrinkly. He scours the place where he would normally find an emotion akin to pity for your distressed state, but in its absence, he only feels endearment laced with a little concern.

He doesn’t get a word in before you’re shoving the papers in his hands and spouting off information that he’s praying is already on the sheets you’ve given him.

“I should be home by five, if anything happens, this–” you point to a barely legible number, “--is my work phone. This is her doctor’s phone number and she’s allergic to peanuts. There aren’t any peanuts in the house but–” you sigh, exasperated with yourself, “just in case.”

The rest of the pages are filled with ramblings about which channels Abbey likes to watch and how to work the television. How, in case she needs a bath, you have to pull and then twist the knob for the hot water to run. That she is not, under any circumstances, allowed to put nail polish on by herself and where you keep her Epi Pens.

Steve’s surprised at how many of these sentiments he already has catalogued. He’s required to know Abbey’s emergency contacts and that she has a nut allergy for his job, but he knows that channel thirty-seven has the best cartoons because Abbey once told him that Power Puff Girls was her favorite– and you’d already relayed to him the hilariously tragic tale of what happened the last time Abbey attempted to paint her own nails.

Despite this revelation, he doesn’t dare interrupt you. He indulges your ranting, a grin creeping involuntarily along his face.

“-- sorry, I’m rambling– I’ve just never left her with someone who wasn’t my mom or her sitter before,” you’re a little breathless after two straight minutes of talking.

“Hey, hey– you’re okay,” he wastes no time reassuring you, “you know I’d never let anything happen to her.” You nod your understanding, “Besides,” now he’s speaking to Abbey, “we’re gonna have a super fun time right?”

She shouts, “Yes!”

He looks at you with his brows raised, amused, “See?”

“Okay, alright,” you kneel down, chuckling, “do I get a hug? Or am I chopped liver?”

Giggling, Abbey wraps you in a suffocating embrace, like always. Her excitement for Steve has never quelled her affection for you, and you can tell that she’s still hesitant to see you go. You smack a kiss on her cheek, grabbing your bag from the floor as you rise again.

“Swear you’ll call me if anything happens?” You ask him one more time, already knowing the answer.

“Cross my heart.” He smiles fondly, stoking the flames burning bright around the cage that your heart inhabits.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Your home is cozy, much cozier than anything Steve had growing up. He’s warmed at the idea that Abbey has the privilege of growing up in a house that feels so lived in– stains on the carpet, soft edges and yellow lighting. There’s clutter on the kitchen counter by the microwave and colorful alphabet magnets securing several bright pieces of artwork to the fridge.

“Are these the pictures you drew in art class last week?” He asks Abbey, who has been trailing behind him all through the house, pointing things out to him as they go.

“Uh-huh, Mrs. Morse helped me with that one,” she points to what Steve thinks is probably supposed to be a zebra.

“Well, you’re very talented, I love them,”

“Can we go play outside?” She asks, drawing out the last syllable and completely ignoring Steve’s compliment.

“Sure we can,” he chuckles, “where do you keep your snowsuit?”.

Abbey takes Steve by the wrist and leads him to the coat closet by the front door. Similar to the rest of your house, it’s stuffed to the brim– full of puffy nylon and heavy winter boots. He catches a glimpse of a familiar brown and green jacket– his jacket. You’d promised to wash it and return it to him, but it must’ve slipped your mind. He grins to himself at the reminiscence as he fetches Abbey’s snow gear and shuts the door.

Steve hadn’t dressed appropriately for a morning rolling around in the cold. He had slipped on a pair of your mittens, probably meant more for fashion than practicality, because his fingers were already completely numb. But he can’t seem to deny her when Abbey pleads with him to make snow angels. They’d just spent the past half an hour building two snowmen– one short like Abbey and one tall like Steve, she insisted, as she wrapped her scarf around the snowman that resembled her.

“Please, Mr. H?” She begs when she notices his hesitancy.

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, “but then we’re gonna go inside and have lunch. Deal?”

That appears to be a good enough covenant for her, “Okay!” Abbey exclaims, falling fairly harshly to the cushioned ground. Steve braces himself for tears, but Abbey only keeps laughing in that contagious way as she begins spreading her arms and legs out beside her in a repetitive motion.

“Are you gonna make one?” She questions from her place on the ground.

He grunts as he reluctantly lowers himself down next to her, anticipating the icy wetness waiting underneath him. The snow seeps uncomfortably through his jeans, but the sound of Abbey’s unbridled joy nearly makes up for his soiled clothing.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

What’d you want to eat, Ab?” Steve calls from the pantry while Abbey changes out of her wet clothes in her bedroom.

“Not hungry!” She calls back.

He sighs, expecting her stubbornness– she was nearly as mulish as you.

“Remember the deal we made earlier?” He asks, “That if I made a snow angel with you, that you’d have to eat something for lunch, right?”

She emerges from her room, pout prominent on her strikingly adorable features, “But I wanna keep playing,” she whines, giving her foot a little stomp on the linoleum for emphasis.

“We can keep playing after, I promise,” he knows he’s not winning this battle without a compromise, “does your mom let you eat in the living room?” He asks with a lilt to his voice that makes him sound conspiratorial.

“Sometimes…”

“How about…” he pauses as if thinking, “I make us some food and we watch a movie while we eat?”

He can tell he’s got her after that– hook, line and sinker. She still pretends to mull over his proposition for a moment before agreeing, “Hmm…I think that sounds good,” she settles, trying and failing to mask her elation.

That’s how Steve ended up, plates of grilled cheese sandwiches in hand, dodging barbies and miscellaneous stuffed animals on his way to the living room a few minutes later.

“Have you found a movie yet?” He asks Abbey as he sets the plates down atop the coffee table.

“Yes but–” she jumps on her tiptoes, “I can’t reach it,”

Steve walks over to the towering shelf of VHS tapes in front of her, “Which one are you trying to reach?”

Abbey points at the tape in question, “Home Alone,”

“Alrighty,” Steve says as he grabs it with ease, “Your foods on the table, go sit while I put it in,”

Abbey, for once, does as he asks– bounding over to the coffee table with the excitement typical of a five-year-old who has an adult's permission to break a house rule.

While Steve eyes your VCR, he catches a glimpse of a photo out of the corner of his eye, causing him to pause. It’s you, no older than twenty, holding a swaddled baby in a sterile hospital room. He doesn’t recognize the picture as one he’s seen before.

Of course you’ve never seen it before, he thinks, you barely know her. Get a grip.

You’re filled with such youthful brilliance in the shot, despite the underlying weariness of having just given birth; your hair tied messily into a bun at the nape of your neck, sweat beading on your brow bone. It’s just you and Abbey, Steve thinks her father must’ve been the photographer.

He can’t help but think of himself at that age and all the stupid shit he was doing. How, if you had handed him a baby then, he wouldn’t have known the first thing about what to do with it– but here you had raised such a bright, healthy daughter and largely alone. He was struck by such a sudden and overwhelming admiration for you that he nearly forgot what he was supposed to be doing.

“Mr. H?” Abbey asked, mouth full, “When are we gonna start the movie?”

Her question sends him hurling back to reality. A reality where he’s your daughter’s kindergarten teacher, and the two of you are friendly with each other at best.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

At some point during the movie, once their lunch was reduced to crumbs on empty plates, Abbey had hauled out her box of coloring books and crayons that she had been looking for this morning.

Steve, the less creative of the two, was coloring in a cartoon illustration of a fairy while Abbey was making her own drawing on a piece of white construction paper. The lack of constant chatter is a welcome reprieve, but he knows that Abbey only becomes quiet when she’s particularly concentrated, so he chances a peek to his right at what she’s working on.

She got a death grip on a brown crayon– shaved almost down to the tip– with her tongue sticking ever so slightly between her lips as she focuses intently on her art.

The picture is of three stick figures– two tall and one significantly smaller in between them. It’s set at what looks to be a playground, a bright yellow sun in the sky and blue scribblings around white clouds. Swings, slides and even a little blue dog adorn the rest of the background.

Pleasantly surprised at her artistry, Steve says, “That looks amazing, Ab!”

She’s snapped out of her stupor, her face split with a wide toothless grin. She doesn’t thank him, only lets out a few bashful giggles at his praise and says, “I like yours too,”

“Is that you?” He points at the littlest figure.

“Mhm, see? I made her hair curly like mine!”

“It looks just like you,” he agrees, then draws her attention to the other figures, “Is this your mom and your dad next to you?”

“This is mommy,” she points, “I put her in the blue clothes she wears at work,” he knows she’s referring to your scrubs, but the phrasing makes him chuckle.

“And this is you!” She circles the figure she’s drawn with the tip of her finger. She’s included his voluminous chestnut hair and his silver wire-framed glasses, even one of the stupid striped polos he wears at school. Looking at it now, it’s obvious who it was supposed to be– but it’s so unexpected that he feels his face heat up at the realization.

“Oh, wow, Ab– That’s–” he grapples to find the words to express the juxtaposition he’s found himself in. He’s honored, truly, to be included in this portrait Abbey’s made of herself and her mother– her family– but there’s a gnawing guilt he can’t seem to shake. The fear that, in some way, he’s replacing her father.

“I love it, Ab, thank you,” he smiles fondly at her work, the proud grin she wears slowly melting the flash freeze of trepidation that encased his conscience.

“Can we hang it on the fridge for mommy to see when she gets home?” She asks after a moment.

“That sounds like a great idea.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Around four o’clock, Abbey begins asking what they’re having for dinner. Steve wonders briefly if you always have to deal with her being so ravenous.

“How about we start cooking now? That way it’ll be ready for your mom when she gets home,”

“Okay,” Abbey concurs. Steve wouldn’t consider himself a Michelin star chef by any means, but he can make a mean chicken parmesan.

A trip to the grocery store was needed to grab some ingredients. After scribbling down the required items on a crumpled receipt, and struggling for ten minutes to get Abbey’s carseat in the back of his BMW, they’re on their way.

He meets her eyes in the rearview mirror, “Do you want me to put on some music?”

“Christmas music?” She asks hopefully.

Steve isn’t the biggest fan of Christmas music– Christmas in general, really– but he obliges her request and turns the dial to their local channel, soft bells and a choir of voices begin to flood through the interior of the car. She really is so harmlessly manipulative with her saucer eyes and round button nose, he can’t seem to refuse her anything.

Steve drives more cautiously than he thinks he ever has, even more so than when he was sixteen and learning how to drive with his family’s Pontiac as his father stared harshly at him from the passenger seat. He comes to a full halt at every stop sign, and he never takes his eyes off the road.

After fighting some early rush hour traffic, they make it. Without a second thought, Abbey grasps Steve’s hand while walking through the parking lot. He tries not to look startled at the sudden contact, recalling how she always seems to have a firm grip on your hand in public spaces too. Steve’s just glad she feels comfortable with him.

“Can I help?” Abbey asks as Steve grabs a cart from the corral.

“Course’,” he smiles, “do you wanna grab the ingredients and put them in the cart for me?”

She bounces excitedly, “Sure!”

Wandering through the aisles, Abbey never strayed from Steve’s side. Every time he read off an item, she would dutifully fetch it and throw it into the cart with a little more force than necessary, but Steve didn’t mind.

“Do you live by yourself?” She asks out of the blue as they peruse the store.

“I do,”

“Then how come you know how to cook?”

He laughs at her inquisitive nature, “Well I have to eat don’t I?”

“Yeah…” she ponders, “I guess so,”

“Alright, the last thing we need is breadcrumbs,” he informs her, scanning the shelves.

Like earlier, Abbey attempts to stand on her tiptoes to try and reach the can in question, “I’m getting it,” she mumbles in determination, very much not getting it.

“Here,” Steve says as he lifts her up by her waist like it was second nature to him.

“Got it!” She exclaims, tossing it in with the rest of the groceries. “Can I ride in the cart now?” She yawns with a polite hand over her mouth. He supposes grocery shopping takes a lot out of you when all the shelves are at least five feet taller than your head.

“Sure,” Steve chuckles as he slots her little legs through the designated holes.

Despite the ride home only being about ten minutes long, Abbey manages to doze off– lulled to sleep by the subtle hum of the car's engine. Steve veered as gently as possible into the driveway, careful not to disturb her even though he was about to wake her up anyway.

“Abbey,” he shakes her softly, “we’re home,”

Abbey rouses, but only slightly. She yawns again and stretches with her arms over her head before extending them out, silently motioning with her eyes still closed for Steve to carry her inside.

“Okay, c’mon lazy bones,” he grunts at the angle but lifts her from her car seat nonetheless. After unlocking the door one-handed, he sets her carefully on the couch and covers her with a plush throw blanket before heading back outside for the rest of the groceries.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The first thing you notice when you approach your front door is the savory smell of something cooking. Inside, the TV is off and your daughter is sleeping soundly on the couch. Quiet clattering noises flood from the kitchen.

The sleeves of Steve’s burgundy sweater are rolled up to his elbows and the kitchen smells of roasting chicken and mahogany as he stirs a simmering pot of homemade pasta sauce. He’s humming some tune softly under his breath– Bob Segar, you think.

“Hey,” you greet with a grin as you set your bag down on the dining table. Steve turns around to meet you as you ask, “What’re you doing?”

“Cooking?” He replies.

“No, really?” You deadpan back, eliciting an amused chuckle from the man standing at your stove.

“Abbey was asking about dinner,” he pauses, “we were gonna do this whole thing– we were gonna make it for you together, have it ready by the time you got home, but,” he gestures with his arm to the living room where Abbey is napping. Steve Harrington is nothing if not expressive– talking with his hands, eyebrows always either furrowed in concentration or raised in amusement. It’s one of the most charming things about him, you think.

“Well, thank you,” you say, “you didn’t have to do that,” you feel a blush heat your cheeks at how domestic this feels– like you come home to Steve cooking dinner for you and your daughter every night. You can picture it as easily as if it were your actual reality and it leaves you feeling briefly vertiginous. You’re not sure Jeremy ever cooked even one meal for you in the entirety of your relationship.

“The chickens almost done and then I'll get out of your hair,” he assumes a teasing lilt to his voice to disguise the fact that he feels like he’s overstepping– overstaying his welcome or crossing some invisible line.

“Are you kidding?” You scoff, “You’ve gotta at least stick around long enough to see how it came out,”

“You don’t mind?” He asks hesitantly.

“Steve, of course I don’t mind,” honestly, you think you’d start a fire and burn your house to the ground if it meant getting him to stay just a little longer to help you put it out, “plus, I’m sure Abbey’ll be stoked.”

“Alright, well,” he smiles warmly, “it’s ready if you wanna go wake the gremlin up,”

At the table, Abbey insists on sitting next to Steve in the chair across from you.

“This is delicious, Steve,” you compliment.

“Best you ever had?” He teases, but his phrasing makes you choke a little on your pasta.

Abbey makes a twisted face, “The sauce tastes funny.” Saved by the bell.

“Abbey!” you scold playfully, poorly concealing a laugh behind the back of your hand, “Sorry– I think she’s just used to eating Prego,”

“That’s okay– I think she’s right, actually,” he assures you, twisting his expression into something sour and causing Abbey to giggle. His eyes are the color of rich soil as he sends you an oh, so familiar look across the table, communicating another silent thought to you. One that says, I don’t mind how blunt she is, I think it’s endearing.

When dinner is finished, Steve insists on doing the dishes for you too. “You cooked, Steve, let me–” you try to barter.

“--You do enough as it is,” he counters simultaneously.

“You watched my child all day!” You laugh at his stubbornness.

“I do that everyday anyway!” He argues, beginning to fill up the porcelain farmhouse sink with hot, sudsy water.

“At least let me help,” you give him that wide eyed look you always seem to be giving him lately. God, you’re no better than Abbey. “You wash, I’ll dry?”

“Fine,” he tries to frown but his smirk betrays him in his act of faux annoyance.

After a few minutes of stuffy silence, you ask, “She wasn’t too much of a pain in the ass today, was she?”

“Not any more than usual,” he jokes and a plate slips through his fingers, causing a small splash of water to coat your face in dishwater. You gasp at the sensation.

“Oh– Sorry!--” he tries to apologize, but you take your dishwater soaked fingers and flick them in the direction of his own face– small soapy bubbles clinging to his lashes and eyebrows.

“I cannot believe you right now,” he says, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

“There, now we’re even,” you smirk.

“I’ll let it slide. This time.”

“Mommy!” Abbey rushes into the kitchen, “Can Mr. H stay to watch a cartoon before bed?”

“I don’t know, baby, it’s getting late,” you can just barely see the flash of heartbreak in her gaze before Steve interjects, “It’s okay, I don’t mind staying for a little longer,”

You send him a skeptical glance over your shoulder, but he just nods and asks Abbey what she’d like to watch.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The end credits for an episode of The Rugrats flashes across the screen, illuminating Abbey’s sleeping face in muted shades of blue and orange. She snores, slumped against Steve’s chest with her arms wrapped around his torso. You sit propped against the other arm of the couch watching them intently– trying to memorize the sight before you. You’ve never seen Abbey cradled like this before by anyone else except you. It wasn’t something you felt you craved until recently.

Steve turns, catching you staring but not calling attention to it. He can count on several hands the amount of times he’s done the same to you– Steve Harrington is many things, but he is not a hypocrite.

“Did you know the guy from Devo wrote the theme song for this?” He gestures towards the television.

“Really?”

“Mhm,” he replies, “I can’t remember who told me that,”

After a few beats of hushed silence, you say, “Should probably put that one to bed– unless you wanna be here all night,” you try to joke but your voice shakes.

He would if you were sincerely asking. He’d stay right here on this uncomfortably worn sofa, with your daughter whom he has such an affinity for, sleeping against his chest for the next millenia. He’d fossilize here if he could– your presence beside him calm and grounding like an anchor in a storm.

He voices none of this. Instead he says, “Do you want to take her?”

“It’s okay,” you wave him off, “I’ll just come with you.” The three of you slowly make your way to Abbey’s bedroom, Steve carrying her bridal style against his torso and the door creaks on its hinges when Steve pushes it open with his hip. She stirs only a little when he sets her down, but is soothed quickly with a firm palm stroking her back a few times.

The door clicks behind you as Steve leads you both back to the living room.

“I should probably–”

“Do you want–”

You begin to speak at the same time, awkward chuckles leaving both of your nervous lips.

“You first,” he offers, scratching the back of his neck.

“I was– just gonna ask if you wanted some wine, but I know it’s late–”

“Wine sounds great.” His lips form a line across his face as he grins.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Half a bottle of wine split between the two of you, and your hands were tingling from the effort it was taking not to reach out and card your fingers through the hair of the man sitting across from you.

“How come you never called?” He asks suddenly, but not unkindly.

“Hm?”

“You never called– well, not til’ this morning at least,”

“Didn’t know what counted as an emergency, I guess,” you shrug, the alcohol shaking your nerves loose.

He must’ve been feeling in a similar way to you– speaking freely in a way he wouldn’t have before, “Just wanted to talk to you,” he smiles fondly.

“Oh,” you whisper, and when you don’t say anything else, Steve changes the subject.

“I like that photo of you on top of the entertainment center,” he says contemplatively, “you looked really…peaceful,”

“Well, raising a miniature version of yourself tends to age you a bit, I suppose,”

“Can I ask you something?” He asks, testing the waters.

“Always”

“Where was Jeremy in the picture?”

“We always talk about me,” you roll your eyes spiritedly and release a contented sigh, “Tell me why you really came to Maine,”

“Don’t deflect,” he teases.

“C’monnnn,” you draw out the last syllable, “answer,”

“I asked you first,” Steve chuckles.

“Jeremy wasn’t at Abbey’s birth,” you admit, it's immediately like an aching weight removed from the length of your spine– one that's been there consistently for years. “He didn’t even want me to have her,” you scoff humorlessly.

You had told almost no one this before. For the sake of keeping appearances, even after he passed, only your mother and sister knew that Jeremy had pushed for you to terminate your pregnancy when he’d found out; and that only once your daughter was actually born did he want to be involved in her life. The burden felt shockingly easy to lay at Steve’s feet, like someone might confess to a priest. This tender man sitting across from you– whether it was the wine or simply his presence, you aren’t sure– but it felt so effortless to be vulnerable right now. Your soft, white underbelly on display for him to do as he pleases, trusting him to have a gentle touch.

“That fucking sucks,” he knows you well enough by now to understand you’ve never cared for empty platitudes, so he doesn’t bother schooling his bitter, empathetic expression, “M’ sorry,”

Not wanting to dwell on it any longer, you say, “Your turn,”

“My old man was an abusive, drunk asshole,” he says frankly, “I don’t know if I ever saw him sober,” he huffs a laugh but there’s no humor behind it. “I needed to get out– to see what else there was, you know?” He asks, and you nod, “He died in my sophomore year of college. Didn’t even go to the wake.”

“Well, I’m really glad you ended up in this shithole,” he laughs at that, “I think you’re pretty neat, Harrington,”

“Thanks,” he deadpans, “Juries still out on you,” he pokes your side and you giggle like you’re a damn teenager again.

You swat him lightly on his bicep in retaliation, and before you know it, you’ve both succumbed to a fit of contagious laughter. When it begins to die down, you’re closer to him than you’d been before. It steals the breath from your lungs and your heart thrashes inside your ribcage like a wild animal.

You’re gazing at each other now, heads light from the alcohol and dizzy with proximity. His heavy lidded gaze lands on your lips for a second too long, and then he’s pulling your face flush to his own by the sharp edge of your jaw.

It’s a soft kiss, but it’s maddening nonetheless. His lips are plush and smooth– malleable against yours. You huff a surprised breath of air, but don’t pull away. One of his calloused hands is resting firmly on your waist while the other one snakes up tenderly to hold the back of your head. You feel that familiar itch to bury your fingers in his brown tresses, so finally, you do. What realistically only lasts a moment, feels like hours before he’s pulling away, nearly frightened.

When he looks at you, his doe eyes are wide with fear, glassy with the impending fallout of what he’d just done. He stammers, “I’m sorry–that was–” he runs his hands down the length of his guilt twisted face.

“No– Steve, It’s okay, I–”

“I should go–” he says quickly as he slips his shoes and coat on, not even bothering to tie the laces, he grabs his keys, “I’m sorry I’ll– I’ll see you on Monday,”

He’s closing the door behind him before your mind gets the chance to catch up with your mouth. You wished to tell him that it was okay, that you liked it– that you wanted him to stay and never leave again.

But it’s too late. You’re left alone in the stifling air of your living room, half a bottle of wine on the coffee table and your heart on the floor.

taglist - @soulxiez @sadieshairbrush @the-witty-pen-name @ilovetaquitosmmmm @mrsnarnian @negomi123 @micheledawn1975 @cherryc1nnam0n @paleidiot @adaydreamaway30 @twinkling-moonlillie @royalestrellas @jamdoughnutmagician @cali-888 @kolsmikaelson @1deverland @borhapparker @alexa4040 @chiliwhore @weonlysaidgoodbyewithwordss @paddockspookie42 @foxes-n-frogs @j-mlover383

divider cred - @cafekitsune

[delswine]

LET'S CLARIFY THE COMMENTS 𝄒 ⸝. P. SH

the thing is, you couldn't even imagine how Enhypen's visual Sunghoon, who made millions fall in love with him, would react when you gossiped with your idol friends about his sex life.

"you seem to know too much, baby."

ᆢ ۢ pairing: arrogant¡idol¡dom!sunghoon × bratty¡idol¡sub!f.reader

contains some members of enhypen, aespa, le sseraphim, ive.

ᆢ ۢ genre: smut (MDNI) with a tiny plot.

ᆢ ۢ warning: strangers to smth, unprotected sex (nope, not for you babe), spitting, hair pulling, pet names, dirty talk, reader is down bad, some praising, oral (f&m rec), teasing, overstimulation, hickeys, fingering, slight choking, begging, manhandling... may contain more, lmk if i missed.

ᆢ ۢ notes: well, my little braincells, this is my first on tumblr so don't judge me plz. and this girl is not a native english speaker, fyi. hope you enjoy?? (plz enjoy or i'll kms)

more undercut!

you leaned forward slightly as you brushed your waist-length hair out of your eyes, continuing your speech that had caught the girls' attention as if you were going to tell them a secret. "don't he seem like a sub? sure, he may be handsome, but he's so cold and arrogant. god, I swear on my soul that his dick is small!"

well, those weren't exactly well-supported thoughts. more like- more like the hatred you spewed at Park Sunghoon for not even having his number. who could've blame you? Park Sunghoon was arguably the most cold and apathetic one in the industry among idols. if any idols topic came up while talking to girls, at least one of them would definitely have hung out with that person, but Sunghoon? nope, not even a chance. he refused to talk to any female or male idol who asked for or contacted him for his number, distancing himself from everyone with that condescending look on his face.

and you... you wanted him, god damn it, you wanted him so bad. Sunghoon fucking you was something that had been haunting your dreams lately. while you can have all the male celebrities you want wrapped around your finger, it was making you angry that you didn't even have Park Sunghoon's number. when you asked him he said he wasn't interested. to you! who could say no to you?

and here you are, venting your anger at Sunghoon for no reason and without him even knowing it by belittling him and starting rumors.

Wonyoung sipped her drink while laughing lightly. “you really have a grudge against him, he’s not actually that arrogant. he’s just cold. you're just mad because he didn’t give you his number, y/n.” Giselle couldn't help but tease you. "our queen bee got rejected for the first time in her life! let's get a depression blanket and a jar of nutella for miss y/n!" you let out a frustrated breath and leaned back. you looked at sunghoon’s face a few tables away and spoke sarcastically.

“i’m sure he’s a virgin and gay or something. and i’m not depressed or anything, Gigi. i could have a line of guys at my door if i wanted to. his loss.”

—

well, fuck the loss. you're the one who is losing. every time that man performed on stage, you felt like you were going to explode. how could a person look so flawless? you wanted to beg to get under the man you were raving about just a few minutes ago.

as you focused on the song to distract yourself from thoughts about Sunghoon, you curiously took the paper that an staff had reached out to you. he wasn't part of your group's crew, so you could tell the paper was from another idol. you tucked the paper in your pocket so the fans wouldn't think anything of it.

a few minutes later, when the performance was over, you got up from your seat and went backstage to go to the bathroom. as you walked to the bathroom among the rushing staff, you took out the paper from your pocket.

"you will come to my waiting room after the show ends to clarify your comments about my small dick."

as an angry and confused laugh spilled from your lips, you didn't even think about going. why would you listen to him?

and yes, your thoughts didn't seem to matter because you found yourself in front of Sunghoon's personal waiting room after the ending ceremony.

even though you came here, you were just standing in front of the door, not knowing what to do. as you debated with your thoughts between knocking on the door, going straight in, and turning back, you felt a shadow rising from behind you.

Park Sunghoon.

as you turned your head slightly to look at him, Sunghoon walked past you and opened the door, not even bothering to look at your face. he spoke with firm and demanding tone, leaving the door open behind him. "come in and close the door."

while you entered inside, doing as he said, without knowing the reason, Sunghoon took off his tie, which was part of his stage costume, in front of the table with his back to you and left it on the table. once he had taken off his jacket and was left with a white shirt hugging his muscular upper body, he turned to you. he walked towards you and spoke in a cold voice as he unbuttoned the cufflinks of his shirt and folded one of his sleeves.

"it's surprising you're not still on your knees."

you were taken aback. your eyebrows furrowed slightly, and your lips parted in surprise. as you searched for your voice that you thought you had escaped into, Sunghoon spoke once more. there was now only a step between you.

"what's with this reaction? wasn't that the reason you made those know-it-all comments about my dick because you wanted it deep inside all your holes?"

you tried to focus on forming sentences without stuttering. you were embarrassed that your voice sounded so weak. "what are you talking aba-" Sunghoon grabbed your chin, pinching your cheeks between his fingers, causing your lips to pucker as he leaned over you. he spoke in a sarcastic tone while raising one eyebrow. "did I say you can talk? on your knees."

the feeling of wetness in your panties made you feel humiliated as your hands trembled slightly. as you looked into Sunghoon's eyes with a slightly timid but eager gaze and didn't even attempt to kneel down, Sunghoon let out a deep breath. his hand reached your throat and squeezed lightly, taking your breath away as he pushed you hard against the door behind you and leaned on you. you placed your hands over Sunghoon’s as a small groan escaped your lips from the pain in your back. he didn’t completely take your breath away, just made it a little harder. "we both know that what you said was just to piss me off and provoke me to fuck the brat out of you. now, you'll get what you wanted. on your knees. if you make me say it one more time, i'll overstimulate and edge you for hours."

when Sunghoon’s hand left your neck, you swallowed and fell to your knees, biting your lip lightly. he was right, this was what you wanted. now you could show him what he was missing at first, then leave him begging you to continue.

"you know what to do."

your hands found the waistband of Sunghoon's pants. you undid his belt first, then the button, and pulled down the zipper. you pulled down his pants and hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers. as you raised your eyes and looked down at him, you saw Sunghoon unbutton the top buttons of his shirt. when he looked at you with dark eyes, you looked away and pulled out his not erect cock from his boxer. the big dick in front of you, even when not erect, was proof that what the things you were saying would soon go into your ass. besides being huge, it was also mouthwatering.

you turned your eyes to Sunghoon once more and parted your lips, taking the tip of his cock into your mouth. no reaction.

you started to caress the dick with your hand, then took it into your mouth and started sucking it. no reaction.

you wrapped your tongue around him, running it over his veins. no reaction.

even though you had made his cock semi-hard, Sunghoon continued to look at you without even the slightest moan. when you got angry and touched it your teeths lightly, Sunghoon hissed lightly and grabbed you by the hair. he pulled your head back and leaned over you. "you're pushing your luck too much. open your mouth."

before you could swallow the saliva that spilled from his mouth to your mouth, Sunghoon pushed his dick into your mouth with the help of his hand in your hair. your hands quickly found Sunghoon’s thighs as he moved your head back and forth, moving his waist at the same time and started to fuck your throat. you digged your nails into Sunghoon’s skin as you rolled your eyes at him once more, letting out a meaningless moan because your mouth was full. even though you felt like you had won a victory when you heard a soft groan from Sunghoon who was looking at you, what had happened to your plan to leave him alone? as you watched with lustful eyes from below as Sunghoon threw his head back and moaned, every time you tried to pull away and leave him, Sunghoon would push your head back down onto his cock.

"nuh-uh, you're going nowhere baby. you'll take it just like you wanted."

you stared at him desperate as your eyes filled reflexively under Sunghoon’s harsh thrusts. the fact that you were enjoying this made you feel humiliated. you had created a pool in your panties while sucking the cock of a man who was using you shamelessly.

Sunghoon’s moans filled the room and the words he used made you want to suck him even more. "fuck, yes- just like that. take it like a good girl.. ah, look at your eyes.. you're enjoying this, don't you?"

Sunghoon pulled back as your hot seed formed a web in your throat. you fell onto your hips, out of breath, and pressed your hand to your lips. grabbing your chin and forcing your angry gaze into his own eyes, Sunghoon grinned. "you seem to have lost the bet on your soul. c'mere."

Sunghoon easily manhandled and lifted you up, grabbing you by your waist. he grinned as he pulled you closer to him. his free hand slid under your skirt and caressed your skin, dangerously close to your pussy. your hands quickly move to his shoulders, applying a weak and reluctant pressure to push, while Sunghoon’s hand quickly reaches your clothed clit. contrary to his calm demeanor, you quickly broke apart and moaned, letting out a shaky breath. Sunghoon grinned at the wetness he felt through your panties as he moved his fingers in circles over your clit. he mumbled between your messy moans.

"sub under the handsome face, huh? at least you have the decency to admit that you think i'm handsome."

your legs trembled as his two fingers pushed your panties aside and entered your warm cunt without warning. you felt like you were going to fall, but Sunghoon’s hand on your waist kept you upright. he leaned down and whispered in your ear as he started to move his fingers rapidly, turning you into a moaning mess.

"beg."

your lips parted quickly, Sunghoon hadn’t even done anything to turn you on this much yet but you couldn’t resist. you were absolutely nothing when it comes to Park Sunghoon.

"p-please, god- fuck.. please do so-something.."

Sunghoon's eyebrows rose as he smiled. as his fingers in your pussy sped up, he looked at you mockingly, and spoke. "well done, but not enough. you should try harder, honey." his thumb rubbing your clit roughly, leaving you breathless once again. you were digging your nails into Sunghoon’s arms as your eyes filled with arousal.

"fuck- i'm so s-sorry, i'm so-fuck- i-i won't lie again! please-Sunghoon please make me cum!"

Sunghoon's eyes filled with pleasure as he sped up his fingers, giving you the movement you needed to cum. you stood on your tiptoes, your moans filling the room as you came, legs shaking from the hard thrusts inside you. your head fell back, your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

the moment he thought you could open your eyes again, Sunghoon lifted your head and pressed his lips to yours. after a passionate kiss, he pulled back and pointed to the couch behind him. "strip and lie down, baby. we're not done yet."

after getting rid of your clothes, when you reached the couch with an empty mind and lay down, Sunghoon quickly found his place on you and settled between your legs. he grabbed your ankle and pressed his lips gently against your skin to leave a few kisses on your calf. sweet whimpers escaped your lips until his lips reached your thigh, leaving light marks with bite marks on your legs.

you wouldn't have to think twice to realize that if you weren't an idol, Sunghoon would have left his marks all over your body.

when Sunghoon’s lips found the lips of your pussy, your back tensed up quickly, you grabbed Sunghoon’s hair with a moan as you jumped like a spring. your grip on his hair tightened and your moans got louder when Sunghoon started making out with your pussy without waiting.

Sunghoon’s grip on your hips tightened as you tried to get out of his grip while your tearful moans continued. you try to keep your voice down by pressing your lips with one hand, while your other hand is still on Sunghoon's hair. you could feel Sunghoon smirking at your reactions as he tongued your clit, ignoring the harsh tug on his hair.

"shit-so good.. ngh- please d-don't stop--"

you felt your body rush into relaxation, pressing Sunghoon’s head into your hips as you dug your nails into his scalp. when Sunghoon lightened his grip, allowing you to use him, you rolled your hips towards Sunghoon’s face, grinding against his tongue. you thought it was done when you chased another orgasm filled with lots of moans and tremors.

but Sunghoon didn't think like that.

he grabbed one of your legs, lifted it up, spread your legs and aligned his dick at your entrance, sliding inside without warning. you shook as tears of pleasure flowed from your eyes, digging your nails into the seat as you shivered and tried to catch your breath. Sunghoon slowly started to move as he straightened up and took off his shirt, throwing it to the side. before you could even taste the sight of his completely naked body, Sunghoon sped up. you were making meaningless sentences as he thrust into you faster, making you cry even more.

"fuck, look how wet you are.. you're really having fun, don't you princess?" Sunghoon's voice thinned slightly between his own moans, then a deep groan escaped from his throat. "yes, god, y-yes! S-Sunghoon-!"

Sunghoon thrusts hard into your cunt, as he grips your hips tightly, leaving fingerprints on your skin. Sunghoon continued talking as the two of you’re moans filled the room. "so tight f'me.. fuck.. you're too pretty to be real." you were too messy to even hear his compliments. your neatly styled hair was a mess, your makeup was smeared all over your face, your eyes barely distinguishing a straight line.

when you felt like you were going to cum again because of Sunghoon’s fingers playing with your clit, you wrapped your arms around Sunghoon’s neck in an effort to feel close. "hnghm— s-so good-"

Sunghoon didn’t resist your grip, leaning over you and letting you hug him as he began to leave passionate marks on your neck. your sobbing was the only thing that graced the room with your moans as you filled the young man’s back with marks with your nails. when Sunghoon’s lips found yours, you felt like you could barely hold in the kiss for all the moans you were letting out.

as your body tensed as you neared orgasm once again, Sunghoon noticed it too. while your waist was constantly moving up and down on the couch, Sunghoon kept you on the couch by pressing his hand hard on your waist, erecting you and increasing his play on your clit. "d-don't stop, please, mngh— S-sunghoon-oh—fuck!" as Sunghoon grinned at your messy state, he intensified his thrusts one last time as he felt close to cumming.

you came almost at the same time as your scream of pleasure and Sunghoon’s moan as he buried himself deep inside you. while you were waiting for your breath to recover, Sunghoon must not have thought so because his fingers on your clit continued their rapid movements, slowly moving in and out of you. "use your words, baby. show me you've learned your lesson."

you moaned at the movements in your sensitive pussy as your hips wiggled to escape Sunghoon’s movements. your lips parted quickly, you spoke without thinking. "Sunghoon, S-Sunghoon-please.. fuck, i-i learned my lesson, i, i am sorry, i am so sorry, p-please slow- fuck aghmn- i won't do it again—"

Sunghoon listened to your pleads until he was satisfied, then smiled and slowed down, pulling out. before removing his fingers from your clit, he gave your swollen pussy a light slap.

as your body collapsed weakly onto the couch, Sunghoon leaned over you and placed a few gentle kisses on your shoulders. as you both caught your breath, he got off you and gently helped you clean up with a towel he had picked up from the table. it was surprising to see that the man who was pressing you down into the couch a few minutes ago was the same man who was holding your legs as if they were porcelain that would break. but you liked it anyways.

Sunghoon leaned down and kissed your waist roughly as he cleaned you up. he hummed as his hand caressed your skin. "you okay? was i too rough?"

you felt your heart beat faster as you listened to Sunghoon’s words. you swallowed hard, avoiding his intense gaze and mumbled. "it's okay, i'm okay.. i.. i rally enjoyed it.." Sunghoon smiled and left a few more kisses on your skin before cleaning you completely.

—

okay, let's start from the beginning. here you are, giving a trailer with red cheeks to your idol friends gathered at your house.

Karina said while laughing excitedly. "okay okay, just tell us, was it big?"

the girls laughed at you as you pressed your head against Kazuha's shoulder next to you, the images flashing before your eyes. another question from Rei filled the room. "was he rough? did he aftercare?"

as you shook your legs in embarrassment and anger and lifted your head, the girls must not have finished messing with you because your groupmate Inchae asked you another question. "unnie, how many times he made you cum?"

the words had just escaped your lips when you couldn't stand the effort any longer and threw the chocolate packet in your hand at Inchae.

"yes it was so good I cried because of pleasure! are you happy!?"

as the girls' teasing filled the room, you were distracted by a message on your phone. you swallowed hard as you read the message on the screen, trying to suppress your racing heart.

"be ready at 8 pm on Sunday, I need to meet my little brat properly."

[thefrankoceanlover]

nsfw. gn!reader, sub top jayce, missionary, first times, oral (jayce giving). as promised a continuation of this post

Jayce sits on your bed, silently observing as you shift through your notes. There’s a pillow on his lap since his mind seems to wander in your presence.

“I can’t find my questionnaire,” you sighed, sitting beside him. Your close proximity didn’t help the situation. The bed was already small, and you’ve made it your mission to sit right next to him, your thigh brushing against his.

“Would you mind if we did an interview instead? I think I remembered most of the questions.”

Jayce wasn’t sure why an anatomy class would require an interview. Still, he wanted to help a friend in need, even if he had dreamt about the said friend in various positions that would put the reproduction chapter of an anatomy textbook to shame.

“Yeah. Interviews are more reliable anyway,” Jayce replies. More personal.

“Great! My topic focuses on various lifestyles and their effects on differing body types,” you explained, but Jayce’s hazel eyes focused on your lips as you described your research project. You loved talking about anything and everything, your latest midterm or your favourite book. Would you talk him through it?

Fuck, Jayce shouldn’t think about these things with you, not even centimetres away from him, but he can’t help it. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t take a nap before visiting your dorm, hoping to experience that dream again. It was wrong. He should not be thinking of his friend like that, but fuck. He even considered stopping by the library to check out a book on lucid dreams on his way to your room.

The questions were straightforward and distracted him from your body pressing against his side. Most questions centred on his diet, workout routine, and mental health. However, there were a few he didn’t anticipate.

“Are you sexually active?” you inquired, glancing up from your notepad to gauge his reaction. Jayce contemplates being honest with you, yet he fears you would take him for some virgin loser who was too preoccupied with his studies to have sex. It wouldn’t be an incorrect assumption, but you didn’t need to know that. So, he chose the most logical option and lied instead.

“Yes,” he says nervously, meeting your curious gaze. He hoped you didn’t notice his increased anxious demeanor.

“Makes sense,” you mumble, noting it down. What did you mean by that? Did he seem like the kind of guy to fuck? Did you think he was some player? The most play he had managed to get was in his dreams. He was strangely flattered and hurt by your offhanded comment.

Unspoken words were lingering in the placid atmosphere. You wanted to ask more questions that didn’t pertain to your interview.

“So, you’ve had sex before?” you asked. Jayce doubts that was a question you had on your questionnaire that you seemingly lost.

“Yes,” he confirms, attempting to sound casual. He’s digging himself a hole, but there’s no way you could call him out on his bullshit, right?

“What’s it like?” You questioned. Jayce was surprised. You were gorgeous. He couldn’t believe you’d never had sex before. Maybe you valued a connection and were waiting for the right person. Or maybe you were like him. He would relate with you, but he’s already burying himself in the hole he’s dug.

“You’ve never…?”

“No. Since you’ve done it before, would you mind showing me?” His heart thuds rapidly at your offer. You wanted him to take your virginity. You didn’t even know he wanted you to take his the moment he saw you in that light. You also weren’t aware he was a virgin and was lying to you to appear cooler.

“Oh, yeah, I can show you,” he chuckles, but he’s beyond nervous, and his words come out weakly. Jayce is shaking — from nerves or excitement, he’s not sure. You smile at him, and he thinks he’s dreaming.

This was another wet dream. It had to be because you were taking off your shirt, exposing your bare flesh to his hungry eyes. You toss the pillow off his lap and settle onto him. Jayce’s hands grab your hips like they did in his dream. His erection presses onto your clothed thigh, but Jayce is too busy feasting on your naked torso to care.

You were more beautiful than he conjured in his subconscious. Jayce squeezes your hips, your soft flesh filling his palms. He can feel you, yet it’s not enough to convince him he’s not still dreaming.

Leaning forward, you capture his lips with your own. Your hand cups his cheeks, your thumb subtly caressing his cheekbones. Jayce doesn’t consider the time a girl was dared to kiss him when he was 10 years old as his first kiss — no, his first kiss was right now, with you on his lap, holding his face like he was the most precious thing in the world.

Jayce whimpers into your parted mouth. That was a mistake. He wasn’t a virgin, well, he was, but he wasn’t supposed to be acting like one. You shift on his lap, getting closer to him. The sudden movement puts pressure on his cock through the layers of fabric, and he moans into you once again. You don’t mind swallowing each noise he made.

His lips move to your neck, kissing your sensitive flesh. Jayce mimics the words he’s read in those classic erotica novels he’s spent way too much time reading. His hand grips your thighs, squeezing them. Then his hand trails to your naked waist, holding you closer to him. Satisfaction fills him when you moan under his ministrations.

Finally, Jayce has you on your back, and nerves fill him. You’re both out of your uniform, left in your underwear. Then reality came crashing down. He was about to take your virginity — he was going to lose his virginity to you. It’s different from his dream, somehow more intimate than he prepared for.

“Look, I’m sorry I lied to you, but I’m actually a virgin,” Jayce whispers. “I understand if you don’t want to—”

“Jayce, I don’t care,” you huffed. Your fingers raked through his dark hair and tugged at his roots, forcing him to face you. He moans softly, and his big doe eyes are wide with shock.

“You don’t?”

“It was kind of obvious. You were grinding on my thigh for the past 10 minutes—” Jayce’s face burns with embarrassment, and he buried his face in your neck, sparing him from further humiliation.

Sure, he might’ve lost track of his thoughts, rutting his aching arousal onto your soft thigh, whining into the needy kisses you’ve shared, but he didn’t think he was that obvious. At most, he came across as inexperienced. Or so he thought. Jayce didn’t think he came across so desperate that you, a virgin yourself, noticed.

“Don’t worry, Jayce, I liked it. C’mon now, finish what you started,” you teased.

He nods at your words, and you remove the rest of the clothing from your body. Jayce is entranced by the sight of you bare, beneath him. His eyes lingered on your exposed skin, mapping out each blemish or beauty mark. You peer up at him with those eyes of yours, your chest rising and falling, matching the rhythm of his own. Jayce swears he’s about to come from the sight of you alone.

Jayce pushes his boxers down, his cock slipping down, and he winces at the cool air kissing the sensitive flesh. You moan when he enters you, your nails digging into his shoulders as he stretches you open. He halts when he’s fully sheathed inside you, and his eyes are snapped shut. Jayce allows you to adjust to him, but he’s silently praying to the Gods that he doesn’t come inside you too quickly.

“You feel so fucking good,” you moan. Your words do little to qualm the burning ache in him. He’s finally in you, and it’s better than his dream — this must be heaven. You squeezed around him like you were trying to become one with him. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you.

“Be a good boy and fuck me, Jayce,” you whined, writhing beneath him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head. If he moved, he might finish in you before making you orgasm, but he wanted to listen to you, so he thrusts into you. Each one is weaker than the last. His entire body trembled. The pleasure coursing throughout him was too much, and he climaxed with a high-pitched moan.

Jayce collapses onto you, and shame fills his entire body. What kind of man was he? Finishing before his lover could even amount to the same pleasure. You weren’t irritated as you ran your fingers through his tousled hair, but you deserved more than a few weak thrusts.

“I’m not mad—” Jayce cuts your words off with a kiss, trailing his lips down the column of your throat and chest to between your legs. His goal was to ease the ache in your core, and Jayce was a quick learner, picking up the sweet spots that left you squeezing your quivering thighs around his head. It didn’t take long until he was hard again. 

Jayce was going to redeem himself in the second round and make you come around his cock like he did in his dreams.

[chrattho1]

bsf!chris x reader

backfired.

summary: just one of your car rides with chris,where you get to know something interesting yet heartbreaking about him.

warnings: none its just interactions between two friends ig

a/n: ill keep making such blurbs and texts’ until they get together guys trust🙏 also this is inspired by yesterday’s video!!!

more of this au here

you are in the passenger seat of the car that is more familiar to you than your own. the scent of weed mixed with chris’ cologne smells like everyday to you,music playing in the background,chris bobbing his head to the beat as his eyes stay focused on the road.

chris looks away from the road for a split second-just to glance at you looking at him.

its been a couple of weeks since you broke up with your ex,and chris has been there for you this entire time,getting you food in bed when you dont feel like getting up,staying over,helping you out in any way that he can-your admiration for him grew everytime he helped you out.

right now,nobody is talking in the car,but this is what you love about your friendship with chris-you can sit there in silence and just think without worrying if it will get awkward. well unless he says something stupid and breaks the silence.

you loved that about him,so much- he says everything that comes to his mind,he vocalises his thoughts to you and that makes you feel safe.

he parks at a corner,pulls the mc donalds bags’ ahead from the back seat.

“here are your fries-and your nuggets” he talks mimicking how a parent would talk to a child,you chuckle.

“what if the nugget you eat just exploded in your tummy like-boom” chris says and immediately starts cackling,you laugh with him,your head falling back and your eyes shut.

“shut up bro im fucking crying” you said wiping a tear that was developed out of laughter.

chris nods still chuckling,taking a bite out of his burger, his eyes turn to you as he smiles with his mouth full.

“how many people have you been in love with?” he asks out of nowhere,catching you off guard

“this is so random” you chuckle chewing at your fries.

“just tell me” chris groans acting annoyed

“i have definitely told you this before” you said taking a sip out of his sweet tea.

“no you haven’t” he shakes his head.

“you think we haven’t talked about this before? be for real chris” your eyes narrow,not believing that you two-probably the only two people in this world who have discussed all topics from the most random to the deepest,in detail for hours-haven’t talked about this.

“on my life-i dont know the answer to this question,why do you think i asked” he shruggs

“i think just the one time-remember i told you about the guy i grew up with back home?”you remind him

“yeah yeah him-how long do you think you were in love with him?" he asks another question.

“well lets see..” you start counting years on your fingers, giving up before answering .

“from the age of 12-maybe 11 till i was almost 17” you answer with wide eyes.

“no fucking way-i did not know that” his eyes widen at your response too,before he continues talking.

“what was it about him?” he looks up at you from his fries.

“i dont know-we were friends for so long he knew everything about me and i knew everything about him,he was just a nice dude” you said almost sounding like you were describing chris.

“so he was me?” chris gives you a smile-the smile with his entire underbite showing.

you grin,blinking at him before jokingly hitting his face to the side.

“what about you? how many times has THE chris sturniolo been in love?” you asked looking at him with a smirk,you have an answer at the back of your mind because this conversation has 100% taken place before.

“alright this backfired real quick” chris mumbles under his breath with a scoff,his gaze turning away from you hiding a shy smile. you were beyond confused.

“WHAT? YOU DONT WANNA TELL ME?” you were shocked by his response,usually chris wants to tell you everything,and knowing that you both have definitely talked about this before, him not wanting to answer this question now bothered you.

“okay i’ll flash the numbers and you just stop me when you see the answer yeah?” to your words chris drops his hands into his face and groans slightly,like he is…embarrassed?

you hold up one finger in his face,to which he pulls his face out of his hands,looking at your hand and shakes his head in disappointment.

“you think i am at one?” chris spoke his voice cracking just a tiny bit

“okay i remember now-two” you were positive that thats what his answer was,because when you first became friends he did mention being in love twice

a small smile on his face as he fidgets with the straw on his drink,he shook his head again.

“no??? three people then!?” you screamed in his face

“DONT SAY IT LIKE THAT?” he replies with a frown

“can i get a list because i feel like im missing someone” you asked him genuinely curious because you definitely remember only the two .

“maybe later” chris hummed returning back to his fries with the small smile still on his face.

“three people huh?” you speak up again.

“i just- dont have a problem being in love with someone and not doing anything about it you know?” he shrugs like he didn’t just say something that made your heart curl up into a small ball in your chest,you cared about chris so much and you know what it feels like being in love with someone and not allowing yourself to do something about it,you try to think hard about who this woman could be because the other two women chris was in love with-he did make a move on,your frown growing with each passing second.

“oh-chris” your face fell,your hand reaches down to his lower thigh,rubbing it to console him.

“eh it’s whatever” he shrugs,his eyes plastered on your hand that is on him right now,he takes a sharp breath

“anyways” chris sighs,his eyes lower than before

“wanna smoke a joint with me?” he continues,with a smirk on his face.

a smile grows on your face,you nod.

taglist: @espressqe @ginswife @sturnsburna @carolina454 @hotgirlbl0gger @violetstxrniolo777 @riggysworld @verycoolmiyah @fadedstvrn @purpledreamertyphoon @mattsplaything @whore4chris @chris-halleluja @sl4ttformattsturniolo @annsx03 @mattsdemi @chrisslittleslut @chrislittleslut @poolover123 @luvvnai @chrissturniolossidehoe @pompomprrin @harmonysturniolo @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @soph-loren @ccsturns @lovesturni0l0s @chriss-slutt @wysmols @sturniolosluttt @mattsdillion @alyssa-sturn @herewegoagain-b @bilssturns @sturnobessed @mxnsonn @izzylovesmatt @sturniolosymphony @chrissturnioloswife88 @sxphiee3 @purpledreamertyphoon @whoreforchrissturnniolo @slutformatt17 @chrissturnsss @realuvrrr @sweetxcheeryx @sturnl0ve @estellesdoll @glitterybtch @courta13 @mattsbitchh @slvtf0rchr1s

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Touya Todoroki: Sexy Uber Driver!? | Touya x Reader AU Imagine 🌶

Absolutely no fuckin' clue where this one came from guys!! But it's hot, sexy and involves fucking a stranger! AU where there's no quirks and Touya is a tattoo artist who drives Uber as a aside gig. MDNI.

Ok but imagine that Touya is your Uber driver driving you home after a work event.

It's been a longass day, followed by a longass happy hour spent networking with co-workers. You're absolutely exhausted and your feet are killing you so you slip off your dainty high heels and hold them at your side. You sigh in relief when your standard SUV Uber pulls up to the curb. The driver rolls down the window slowly, giving you an appraising look. He takes in your sensible outfit, eyes lingering on the way your bare feet tap anxiously into the harsh cement of the sidewalk.

The driver looks to be about your age - mid-twenties. He's handsome, in an emo-goth sort of way. Dark black hair puffing up in all directions around a pale, aristocratic face. He's got a cute nose, but it's absolutely covered in piercings. So are his ears - silver cuffs climbing up his lobes and under his hair. He's wearing a black t-shirt that shows off the way his bicep flexes as he slings an arm across the steering wheel.

"Y/N?" He asks, glancing between you and your Uber profile on his phone.

"Yup, that's me." You say somewhat awkwardly, leaning around the car so you can triple confirm the license plate number.

"What, you think I'm the boogeyman or something? Do I look like someone who goes around kidnapping people for a living?" He smirks.

You peer down to look at the driver skeptically. He's cute. Thin as a rail in his tattered, well loved hoodie and jeans. His piercings sparkle beneath the streetlights, and he's got these light, bruised-looking circles under his eyes that indicate sleep loss. He's pretty in a grungy skater kind of way. He looks like he smokes cigarettes after sex. You raise an eyebrow.

"Actually, yeah. With those piercings and that vintage My Chemical Romance hoodie, you look like you'd kidnap my ass and lock me up in Hot Topic." You quirk your mouth into a grin, teasing. Flirting? Maybe. "I wouldn't advise kidnapping, though. My friends are all far too poor to pay any sort of emotastic ransom."

He wasn't expecting this quip, his eyes widening in surprise as he meets your dig with silence. Finally, he bursts out laughing, throwing his head back and smiling in a way that makes him look so, so pretty. You shake your head to clear it of your horny little thoughts. Your tired and you need to get home - stop flirting with the Uber driver! You just want to tuck yourself into bed with a warm cup of tea. Maybe jerk off until you fall asleep.

You slouch into the backseat of the car and toss your work bag to the floor along with your shoes. You shut the door soundly behind you and the driver pulls away from the curb and onto the road. As you dig through your bag for your emergency pair of socks, you're happy to note that it's nice and cozy inside the car. When you finally grasp the thick white socks at the bottom of the bag you sigh in relief. You pull them on, haphazardly menuvering yourself around the backseat.

"I'm gonna need you to buckle up back there." The driver says lazily. "I don't have time for insurance hazards."

"Oh, right." You say flatly, reaching to grab your buckle and slide it into place. The buckle makes a loud "click!" as it finds it's home and the driver hums out a satisfied noise.

"You'd be surprised on how many people fight me on that." He says amiably.

"Fight you? About buckling their seatbelt?" You say in surprise. "That's a weird hill to die on."

You see the driver's shoulders rise and fall in an exasperated little shrug. "It's simple - people don't like being told what to do. Especially not by their driver. Everyone in this area seems to think an Uber driver should be seen and not heard."

"Oh. That kinda sucks."

"Eh, it's a means to an end." He says with another small shrug.

It’s a long drive home - a full hour in the car. You pop in your air pods but the driver is chatty. You scowl at first, longing to decompress and sink into your favorite playlist. No such luck - the driver is roasting your work outfit.

“Pencil skirts are stupid, you’re too good looking for something so uptight.” You bite back a with a witty reply, and before you know it the flirty banter has turned to a heart to heart with your emo ass ride share driver.

It only takes few minutes for you to realize how fucking hot he is - he glances back at you through the rearview mirror with ice blue eyes and you’re practically in love. The time flies - you talk about your job, the horrific dating scene in the city, the way you dream about doing something crafty on the weekends but always end up sinking into your chores instead. He talks about the tattoo parlor that he shares with his friends Spinner and Tomura, the pranks they pull on each other during the slow days. He tells you in detail about his dreams of selling more prints of his art, how he really wants to make something of himself as an artist but he's too afraid to branch out beyond ink. You ask about his fares and what he uses the extra driving money for. He hates driving drunk people, but he also likes taking care of people - making sure they've gotten home safe. He likes knowing that in driving them, he's keeping one less drunk driver off the road. As for the extra money, well...he tells you about the expensive oil paints he's saving up to buy, and the canvases he wants to hand stretch in his garage.

When he pulls up to your apartment complex you find you don’t really want to leave. He puts the car in neutral and you continue to chat. He turns in his seat to look at you and you blush under his intense gaze. Eventually, the conversation trails off and the tension in the air is almost unbearable. You stare at him, want thick on your tongue like honey. His eyes glint as they dip down to glance at your lips, and you know he wants you just as badly. It's been what, an hour since you met? Maybe two? You don't even know this guy. He could be married! You glance at his left hand...no ring. He seems like a good enough guy, right? You're still looking at his hands. They're so goddamn hot. You picture what his hands would look like gripping your hips, slapping your ass, wrapping around your throat to provide the tiniest bit of pressure...

"You're staring." He says in that low voice of his. You love the way he talks - his words come out almost lazy but his tone is deep, teasing. Your eyes flicker up in surprise.

"I am." You say evenly, meeting his gaze. "I was thinking that maybe we should..." Your tone is honeyed, sultry. You let your eyes drop down to his lips and linger there. When your eyes travel back up to meet his own, his eyebrows raise in a silent question. Do you want what I want? And are you willing to take it?

10 minutes later he has you bent over in the back seat of his car, rolling his hips rhythmically as he fucks you better than you’ve been fucked in years.

Your sensible blouse is half unbuttoned and in disarray, and your pencil skirt is hiked up around your waist. The driver had a spare condom in the glove compartment of his car (you hope it hasn't been there too long and that it isn't expired!?), and man is he putting it to good use. At some point you pulled off your driver's faded MCR hoodie and t-shirt, and now his toned stomach and chest glint in the soft glow radiating off of the dashboard's radio. He's absolutely covered in tattoos - intricate ink designs that you wish you had more light to see. His jeans are pushed down and pooled around his ankles as he takes you from behind. It's a messy, chaotic, half-dressed fuck and it's exactly what you needed tonight.

"What's your name again?" You gasp out as he pecks hot kisses up the side of your neck. "Tony?"

He pulls back his head so he can look at you fully, scowling at the mistaken name. "It's Touya." He says, fucking up into you hard. His cock is the perfect size and fits you like a glove - it makes you dizzy with desire every time he thrusts that hot fucking dick up into your pussy. "And what should I call you, sweetheart?"

"Y/N." You gasp out as you feel yourself throb around his cock. Your body is absolutely melting into his - it's as if the two of you have been having sex for years. You just kind of fit together like puzzle pieces (Which sounds cliche as all fuck, but you're too cock drunk to think of more eloquent prose to describe the way your bodies push and pull against each other like the tide.).

He thrusts into you again, more softly as he rolls your name around his tongue thoughtfully. "Y/N. Huh, that's kinda pretty." He pulls out unexpectedly and you whine at the loss. You want him back inside of you as soon as possible - in fact, you're desperate for it. "Aw, don't worry beautiful. You can have as much cock as you want tonight. You were my last fare of the evening."

He pulls you back and awkwardly repositions you so that you're lying in the back seat. It's cramped and your head rests at a sort of odd angle pressing into the car door. But it's hot. And you don't give a damn right now about anything except being fucked.

"Let me see these pretty tits." Touya says in a rough voice, bringing deft fingers down to your mangled blouse. He easily flicks the rest of the buttons open and pulls the delicate material away from your chest, and off of your arms, revealing a sensible white padded bra. He stares at your boobs hungrily, like a wolf staring down its prey. He slides a hand gently beneath you and you feel him unhook your bra with practiced skill. He slides the material off of your body, slowly exposing your tits to the cool air.

"Fuck." He breathes as he tosses your bra into the front seat. He bends over and begins to absolutely devour your tits. He takes one in each hand, fondling and squeezing lightly at the soft flesh of your breasts. He lavishes your left boob with kisses, running the underside of his tongue along your nipple in a way that's so tender it makes you gasp.

"I like that sound, sweetheart." He says, looking up at you with those intense blue eyes. He rests his chin on the swell of your breast as he uses his long fingers to pinch at your nipple. "Keep making that sound?" You nod dumbly and he goes back to suckling your nipple. He runs his teeth lightly across the tiny nub before lavishing you even more with that skilled tongue of his. Goddamn it feels so good. With each swirl and pinch, desire shoots straight to your core.

"Touya."

"Mm?" Touya moves to give attention to your right breast, looking up at you as he sucks and licks his way into your heart.

"Touya I'm so fuckin' wet, I'm gonna ruin the seat of your car." You say nervously, squealing as he slides a hand down your body and in between your legs. He finds your clit easily with his fingertips, swirling the pad of his thumb along your sweet spot as he continues to suck on one of your breasts.

He releases your breast from his mouth with a gentle pop!

"That's alright, beautiful. It's easy to clean." He lets his fingers trace the outer folds of your pussy and you shiver at the contact. He takes a moment to grin down at you before pressing a finger inside. You suck in a sharp breath as your body practically pulls him into you. You've never really been into fingering, but the way the pads of Touya's fingers play you delicately like a harp has you rethinking your opinion on the sex act.

"Don't stop." You gasp out as he slides a second digit into your needy cunt. His strokes are gentle but his rhythm is relentless. He seems to know exactly how to move to please you. He places a hot open mouthed kiss on the space between your breasts, staring up at you with sparkling eyes. "You're so fucking hot, I can't even deal." You groan out, hands flying to his thick hair and pulling slightly. He makes an appreciative noise deep in the back of his throat, encouraging you to keep pulling at his thick locks.

"Can I get back to fucking you now, princess?" He all but growls as you smooth a hand down to the nape of his neck and gather a fistful of hair to pull. Damn what is with this man and pet names? You always thought that being called terms of endearment in bed was cheesy and cringe, but when Touya does it...it's hot. You're already hungry for him to call you "sweetheart" or "beautiful" again - it makes this feel real. Like it's something. (You are perfectly aware that this is a weird one off sexy hookup in the back of a rando's car, but the romantic in you is deeply longing for this to be more.)

"Yes, please." You say as you feel his fingers slide away from your pussy. "Hold on - we should use a fresh condom."

"Ah. I think this was my only one."

"No worries, I have an emergency one in my bag." You reach down beneath the seat and grasp for your bag. Your hand snags the handle and you hoist it towards you. You quickly shuffle through your things before finding a tiny floral zippy pouch that you use for emergency pads, tampons, and...got it. You pull out a tiny golden foil square and hold it between your fingers triumphantly. Touya takes it from you and tears open the packaging as you toss your bag back to the ground.

"We love a modern woman." He says, removing the condom from the package and shifting over to roll it down his length in a single, practiced motion.

"A girl's gotta be prepared." You say haughtily, smiling as you admire his dick.

He pulls himself up carefully and places his arms on either side of you, maneuvering the best he can in the backseat of his car. He hovers over you, and the glow of the dashboard makes his features look downright angelic. The soul shatteringly blue eyes, that pale skin and sharp, aristocratic nose of his...it's all far too much and he is far too beautiful.

"You're so gorgeous, Touya." You say in a hoarse whisper. His eyes widen in surprise and his cheeks get the tiniest bit rosy. He wasn't expecting that. He quickly regains his composure and chuckles, looking away from your face and down at your exposed breasts.

"Well I don't know about that, beautiful." He lets his eyes drink in your body, wandering down your chest and across the gentle curve of your hips. He looks like he's trying to commit you to memory. You shift under his gaze, self-couscous at the way you're laying exposed in the back of a stranger's car like some kind of trollop. "I certainly couldn't pull off a pencil skirt - so, I think you're beating me in the gorgeous department."

"I thought you didn't like the pencil skirt." You huff, your indigence melting into a giggle as he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"It's growing on me. It looks good like this." He gestures with one hand at the way it's gathered around your bare midriff. "Really frames your pussy."

You crack up at that, and Touya shuts you up when he leans down and kisses you deeply. The way he kisses...it's not what you expected. The kiss is soft, measured. He slides his lips against yours with practiced skill. Tt's not aggressive and fiery like you were anticipating - it's sweet and slow. He moves to kiss the side of your face softly. He uses his left arm to prop himself up as he smooths his right up to tuck your hair behind your ear as he kisses the hollow beneath your neck. You let out a soft sigh and he grins into your warm flesh. He's just so unexpectedly sweet. You can feel the weight of his cock against you, twitching every now and then with arousal.

He reaches down between your bodies to grasps at his dick, scooting down a bit to get into a better position. He slowly guides the tip to you, sliding his weighty dick against your slit, gathering up your wetness. You gasp at the contact, the velvety slide of his cock against you fills you with warmth. He pauses for a moment, bringing his cock up a bit so he can rub it against your clit cheekily. At this point it feels like your entire body is flushed and turned on, and you bite back a deep moan at the contact. You're desperate for him to just take you already, and you tell him so in a needy voice.

"No one can hear us in here, you can make as much noise as you want." He says with a chuckle, slipping and sliding his cockhead to your entrance. "Let's see if this is moan worthy." He shoots you a wicked grin as he pushes inside you and you gasp out as his blunt tip slides into your wet cunt. The feeling is other-wordly, it makes you feel as if you've never been fucked properly before.

"Touya." Is all you can manage to say as he reaches down to prop up your left leg on the seat for a better angle. He wraps an arm around your knee and flexes his hips to go deeper. You feel each glorious inch of him slide into place, the light stretch of your pussy walls is absolutely, sinfully delicious.

This time, he takes things slowly. Each thrust is measured and sweet. He looks down at you with an open, adoring expression that makes you flush. You've only been looked at like that a handful of times during sex, and the intimacy of it always takes you by surprise. You've met his man maybe two hours ago? And this stranger is fucking worshiping your body. He's making goddamn love to you.

"Y/N." He groans as he thrusts into you deep, his hips stuttering a bit with the pleasure of it all. He closes his eyes and savors the feel of you around him - soft and hot. When you flex your pelvic muscles around him he laughs a bit - gravely but sweet. You can't quite describe it, but he's got this sexy deep voice that makes your body feel electric when he says your name. "This was not how I was expecting to end my night shift."

Each slide of his thick cock inside of you has you seeing stars and your eyes practically roll back in your skull whenever he hits that sweet spot deep inside of you. His own eyes flutter back open so that he can watch your face reverently. He's trying to read your expressions and adjust his motions to best match your pleasure. He holds your propped knee against his slim body before sliding his hand up to play with your tits. Holy shit, this guy is trying to kill you with pleasure.

You look up at him with lazy eyes, wanting to commit this image to memory. He's too tall for the car, so he's hunched in a bit of an awkward crouch over you as he fucks. His stomach and chest are covered in winding black ink tattoos and his muscles a bit toned - he looks like he takes fairly good care of himself. His body nips in at the waist in a way that's downright unholy. You realize that the thick mop of hair on top of his head must be dyed black, because the rest of the hair running down his body is a soft white. For a moment you try to picture what he must look like with a head of white locks and the image in your head is just as lovely. You imagine he looks good no matter how he styles himself. He's a goddamn dream - beautiful in an ethereal way your sex-crazed brain can't quite describe. You almost forget to breathe.

A deep thrust into you brings your mind spinning back to focus on the sex. You feel your pussy flutter around Touya's perfect, hard dick and you realize you're closer to orgasm than you thought. You reach up to grab Touya's slight waist and encourage him to pick up his pace.

"Is my girl gonna finish on my cock?" He asks cheekily, grinning down at you.

My girl. The word shoots around your brain like pinball, lighting up all of your synapsis in a way that makes you so. incredibly. horny.

Oh god, you're gonna cum. You tell him, your voice breathy and warbling as you desperately clutch at his waist, trying to get as much of him inside of you as possible.

He laughs, but not unkindly. He's just as thrilled to be doing this with you, to be bringing you to the brink of pleasure. He doubles down on his pace, leaning forward to get a better angle. He fucks into you hard and rhymically and the tip of his cock hits your sweet spot again and again and again until...

"Fuck, Touya, I'm - "

"Yeah? Give it to me, sweetheart."

You cum hard, your body electric and buzzing as your pussy flares and flutters around that hot cock of his. You let out a cry of pleasure and Touya looks down at you with brilliant, wild blue eyes as he helps you ride out your high.

"Good girl." He says as he feels you finish, your hand dropping from his hips as the orgasm fades and exhaustion hits you. He slows down his pace a bit, drawing out his own pleasure. You feel yourself start to get overly sensitive as the orgasm fades and you come back to yourself.

"Touyaaa." You moan, indicating that it's becoming too much.

"Just a little longer, sweet girl. I'm almost there." You prop up your other leg, bending it towards you to give him better access to your pussy. You want to make him feel so good - as good as he just made you feel. You try to ignore the overstimulation.

"Oh, fuck." He says as he's able to somehow get even deeper. You can feel every twitch and shudder of Touya's cock as his thrusts become more shallow, more desperate. He looks down at you in awe, his mouth slack and his breathing uneven as he chases his high.

"I'm...Y/N, I'm..."

He quickly pulls out of you and wraps his hand around his cock, desperately stroking himself through his orgasm. He cums a moment later, thick white ropes splattering across the soft skin of your tummy. He paints you white with his seed, gasping your name under his breath as he brings himself to completion.

When he's done, he looks up at you with those bright blue eyes.

"Woah."

"Yeah."

You stare down at yourself - naked except for the pencil skirt that's still bunched up around your middle. You look so slutty like this - covered in a stranger's thick, pearly cum in the backseat of a ride share car. Touya is still hunched over you, hands resting on your knees as he stares down at the mess he's made. His cock is softening but he doesn't make a move to pull up his boxers to cover himself. He just stays where he is, staring dow at you like he's the luckiest fucking guy on the planet. And, you suppose, he is. It's not everyday that a driver gets to fuck his fare.

"Nice work, Jackson Pollock." You say, looking up at him mischievously and gesturing to the mess on your stomach. "I know you said you were an artist...but I didn't think you meant splatter paint."

He stares down at you for a moment, dumbstruck. His jaw has dropped and he looks so, so pretty and so, so stupid all at the same time. Then he shuts his mouth and starts to laugh. You both cackle together in the afterglow. It's all just so ridiculous - fucking a stranger in a rideshare vehicle, making jokes about art and cum. It's extra funny, too, because you realize there's no place you'd rather be right now.

You stay like that for a few minutes - laughing and swapping cum jokes. Once you've caught your breath, Touya shifts so that he can reach beneath the passengers seat and pull out a thin roll of paper towels. He tears off a few sheets and offers them to you. You gratefully accept, using the thin paper to wipe his cum off of your stomach.

"You fuck in here often?" You ask curiously, eyeing the paper towels as Touya begins to clean himself up as well.

"Heh, no. This is actually my first time having sex in a car if you can believe it." He laughs, tucking the rest of the towel roll back under the passenger seat. "That's more for when drunk people fuck up my upholstery."

"Ah. Yes. I could see that being a common problem for a driver who works at night." You say, hoping that the car seat beneath your bare ass hasn't been vomited on recently.

"Yeah. It's only happened twice, but that was two times to many."

"So are you out driving every night?" You ask as you try to unbunch your skirt.

"Only on the weekends when I have time." He says, finally reaching down to pull up his boxers. "When the shop gets slower in the wintertime I tend to drive more during the week for the extra cash. It's not a horrible side gig, all things considered. People are pretty decent." He looks at you thoughtfully. "You're the nicest fare I've had so far though, no one else has let me fuck them raw after the ride ends." You laugh at that. Yeah, what a weird fuckin' night it's been.

"Well you're the first ride share driver I've fucked. So it's a night of firsts all around."

He grins at you before beginning the search for his shirt and hoodie. He finds it in the front seat beneath your bra. He gathers the garments and tosses you your underthings.

"So - this your apartment?" He asks, nodding his head towards the building as he pulls his shirt down over his toned, tatted chest.

"Yeah. Um, do you want to come in for a cup of tea?" You offer uncertainly. What's the protocol here, anyway? Does he want to leave? You're out of your depth when it comes to random vehicular hookups.

He layers on his MCR hoodie, pulling it down over his t-shirt and adjusting it to lay comfortably on top of his waistline. When he emerges from the hood, his hair is unkempt and spikey but his face has lit up.

"Yeah, actually I'd love that. You wouldn't mind?"

"No, not at all. It's the least I can do for...uh...dripping all over your upholstery?" You give him an apologetic look as you shift off of the small wet spot on his car seat.

"Don't worry, I can wipe it down in the morning and no one will be any the wiser."

"Thank god. I'd be mortified if I'd fucked up your workplace."

"I appreciate that. But really, you're good." He reaches down and grabs your blouse, offering it up to you. You hastily shrug it on, buttoning it back into place. You lean down and scoop up your work bag and shoes. The happy hour feels like a lifetime ago.

A few minutes later, Touya is locking his car and following you up the stairs to your tiny apartment. The two of you laugh as you struggle with your apartment key with shaky hands. He leans over you in the door frame, offering to help, and you grin up at this stupidly hot guy you've somehow managed to fuck in your driveway. Once you manage to unlock the door, you grab his hand and pull him inside to your well decorated space.

"Wow, someone's got colorful taste." He lets out a low whistle as he takes in the many patterned art prints on your gallery wall, the bright checked plush blankets draped over your couch. You love bright things as well as florals, checks, patterns of all kinds. Your apartment is small, but cozy with all the creature comforts a twenty-something just outside the city could hope to have. There's a yellow Ikea tupperware of fresh pumpkin muffins on the counter and you tell him to help himself as you walk over to your kettle to brew some tea.

"Don't mind if I do." He says eagerly, taking off his Vans and dashing over to the countertop so he can unbox the muffins. You grab two large yellow camp mugs from your cupboard and set them down gently with a clink.

"What kind of tea do you like?" You list out your Trader Joe tea options and he settles on peppermint, while you decide to take camomile. He slouches into one of your kitchen chairs, watching as you open the tea bags and fill the kettle to the brim. You turn on the stove and watch as the blue flame of the burner ignites.

"Oh my God, Y/N. These are heaven." You turn to see Touya enjoying a muffin, biting into it joyously. "Did you bake these?"

"Yeah, I'm kind of a stress baker." You laugh, placing the tea bags into the mugs. "When I get stressed about work I take it out on the oven."

"I'd say you should just start taking it out by fucking me, but these muffins are way too good. I'd almost rather you use your stress to churn out stuff like this." He grins before stuffing the rest of the muffin into his mouth. He chews and swallows before saying, "Sorry - I forgot to eat dinner tonight and starving."

You smile at him warmly and reach into a cupboard for a small plate. You go back to the tupperware and scoop out a few muffins before bringing setting the full plate down in front of Touya. "Have as many as you want, I've made way too many for just me."

He looks up at you gratefully, a little starry eyed. "Thanks, sweetheart."

Oh.

So the pet names aren't just a sex thing!? You turn around to hide the blush that springs to your cheeks. It's funny - this guy just saw you butt naked and now you're trying to hide a little blush from him? Get it together, Y/N!

Touya digs into the feast of baked goods you've set before him and after a few moments, the kettle starts to sing. You shut off the stove and pour hot water into the mugs. Touya gratefully accepts the hot cup of peppermint tea, smiling up at you with crumbs on his face. You feel oh so domestic as you grab a napkin to wipe at the corners of his smile, and he pulls you into his lap to lavish you with a messy, crumbly kiss. You both laugh and it feels so soft and intimate and warm. The kitchen feels so cozy. And your heart feels all glowy and light in a way you haven't felt in a long, long time.

Thw two of you sip on your tea and nibble and chat. You talk about your jobs and your lives and he tells you stories about his tattoo apprenticeship and about his crazy big family. You cackle at his jokes and share tales of your wild friend group and their latest shenanigans. Before you know it, hours have gone by and you feel like you've known this guy for literal years.

When the tea is gone and the conversation has lapsed into comfortable silence, he gets to his feet and pulls you into another one of his soft, methodical kisses. You melt into him and ask him to please stay. Stay for the rest of the night, stay for however long he wants.

And he does.

You fuck him twice more in your bed before the sun rises. Turns out, he's a goddman dream with his tongue, and he spends an unholy amount of time between your legs, licking and sucking and pulling sounds out of you that you didn't know you could make. For round two you ride him, bouncing up and down on that gorgeous cock of his and making him see stars. He looks up at you with eyes full of fondness, and it feels like more than just a one night stand, right? He calls you sweetheart, gorgeous, baby...Within minutes you cum again hard, and so does he.

When you wake up a few hours later, the sun peaks through your velvet curtains and plays warmly against your skin. You realize warmly that you're wrapped up in Touya's muscular, ink covered arms. If you thought he looked good in the night, well...Daylight looks just as gorgeous on him. The light plays with his sharp features, illuminating his pale skin divinely. If you look closely enough, you can see the tiny flecks of white along his hairline where his roots are growing in. His thick eyelashes are fairly translucent, too. How did you not notice that last night?

He breathes deeply, his chest rising and falling methodically and lulling you back into a comfortable sleep.

He's still here. He stayed.

You hope that maybe he'll stay forever? Is that a silly thing to wish for?

You wake up an hour later to your phone buzzing on your night stand. You untangle yourself from Touya's arms and he mumbles a protest in his sleep. You scoot out from under him and reach for the phone, clicking it open to see an Uber alert.

You click open the app and scan through the message.

Your ride with Touya has ended. Do you want to tip your Uber Driver?

You smirk down at the text.

You tip him 30% and then climb back into Touya's embrace, letting yourself fall back into a warm, comfy sleep.

End.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note

Hey!! It's me, hi, I'm the author it's me! I took a break for a few weeks to attend to some crazy events, travel and illness. But I'm back making my grand return! I hope you liked this little Touya AU. I was taking an hour long Uber ride back from work and thinking - what if the Uber driver was hot!? What if someone hooked up with their Driver and they fell in love!? Idk this def isn't written based on any personal experiences but I thought the concept could be kind of wild and I would absolutely fall head over heels if I had a simp Touya Todoroki as my driver.

I hope people like the portrayal of Touya here...usually I write him as more of a shit eating asshole. But I think that if he didn't have a quirk and grew up a little more well adjusted he'd be oozing confidence and lavishing his lovers with praise and attention. I think that this AU Touya has worked through his shit, is not in contact with his dad but is close with the rest of his family, is figuring things out on his own work wise and is fiercely independent. I also think that since he's worked through his trauma and anger in therapy he is super great at being open and vulnerable during intimacy. He's at that point in his healing journey.

Do I think that Reader and Touya work out? Yeah I do. I think they go on to date and compliment each other really well. The reader is a Corporate Girly™ and Touya is an artist and they balance each other well creatively, emotionally and physically. Obviously there would be things to figure out but I think these two could really grow together and support each other. So there you go - a dirty one night stand hookup story with a happy ending!!

Anyway, hope you enjoyed! More stories coming very soon :)

XOXO,

Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️

P.S. Here's the 🔥Link to My Master List 🔥! I've published a lot of fun sexy Touya/Dabi stories lately and would love for you to take a look if you're interested! 😏

[fuctacles]

<< twelve | 😺 | fourteen >>

"I'm gonna grab another." Steph shakes the empty bottle in her hand. "You want one too?"

Why isn't she kicking him out?

"I'll do it," Eddie offers quickly, jumping off the couch. "I know where everything is."

She's a bit surprised by the offer, but lets him take away the bottle without protest.

The kitchen isn't exactly hidden away in the layout of the apartment, but it shields him enough to have a silent freak out. He's not sure what's the end goal here. If she knows he's into her but isn't interested in anything herself, why let him stay? Are they supposed to sit in the acknowledged attraction as friends? It just might cost Eddie the last shreds of his sanity. 

He presses the cold beers to his cheeks before uncapping them and heading back to the couch. 

"Thank you." Steph takes the offered bottle. There's a remote in her other hand. "You wanna watch something? Family Feud should be starting soon."

A tactical change of topic, but what else could there be to talk about?

"Sure," he nods. When he sits back down, it feels like they've gotten closer, but it might be his mind simply playing trick on him.

They exchange small commentary, drinking and snacking on popcorn, a relaxing evening not dissimilar to what he could have with Wayne. But then, his hand scrapes against the bottom of the bowl. After they pick a couple of edible strays from between unpopped kernels, Steph leans forward to put the empty bowl on the table. When she falls back against the couch, she's definitely closer than before. 

Eddie jumps when she pats his knee.

"Relax, I don't bite," she says, eyes glued to the screen. Only then does he realize how tense he's gotten and forces his muscles to loosen up. He sits more comfortably, their shoulders brushing when one of them raises the beer to their lips. 

That distance also seems to be shortening, until Steph is leaning against him.

"Hey," he ducks his head down to take a look at her face. "You falling asleep on me?"

"No," she protests weakly. "'m watchin'."

Her eyes are indeed stubbornly half-open. He chuckles. 

"Okay, but if you need me to go, just tell me. I'll even tuck you in," he offers.

She giggles, pressing herself firmer against his side, and it takes all of his willpower not to wrap his arm around her. It would be a step too far. 

"What's so funny?" he asks instead, gently nudging her shoulder. 

"Nothing," she says innocently. "Just, Robin gives me a good night's kiss when she tucks me in."

Eddie twists his head again to look at her face. She's biting at her bottom lip and her eyes are glued to the screen.

"Well, whatever you need for a good night's sleep," he reassures her. And, realizing some hearts might end up broken no matter what he does, he raises his arm to rest it on the couch. He doesn't dare wrap it around Steph's shoulders, but at least it's not stuck uncomfortably between their bodies. 

With the show on screen slowly coming to an end, and the beer running through his system, he could happily fall asleep where he's sitting. But the overhead lights are still on, and he knows, deep in his gut, that it was a precaution to keep their hang out friendly. Gods only know what would happen if they were covered in the intimacy of a movie night's semi-darkness. 

When the TV host says his goodbyes, Steph blinks her heavy eyelids unhappily.

"I have work tomorrow," she grumbles with disdain, like the mere thought leaves a nasty taste in her mouth. 

Eddie huffs out a laugh.

"You do." He pats her shoulder sympathetically. "But you're also the boss, and you're not gonna fire yourself for being late, are you?" He cocks his head. 

Steph hums thoughtfully, before turning her head towards him, eyes narrowed. 

'You're a bad influence, you know that?"

"So I've been told," he grins, before disentangling himself from her warmth, because they've gotten way too close, and her mouth was right there for him to do something enormously stupid. "Let's clean up and I'll tuck you to bed like I've promised."

"I have to close up behind you," she reminds him with a twist of her mouth.

He looks up at her, empty bottles in hands. 

"You really should invest in a spare key, you know?"

"Very thoughtful, thanks," she looks at him flatly, before swatting at him playfully. 

"I mean, what if something happens?" he continues, gathering everything before she can grab it herself, and ignoring her protests. "Like, there's a fire and we have to save your cats?"

"Then, by all means, you're welcome to axe my door."

"I don't own an axe!" he points out with wide eyes. 

"I'm pretty sure Wayne does."

Eddie huffs, dumping the greasy bowl from their popcorn in the sink. 

"Yeah, probably."

He insists on cleaning the bowl, swatting away Steph's hands when she tries to take it away from him. But eventually, he's drying his hands and it's time to leave. 

"Well, thank you for having me, I had a great time," he smiles, stalling. 

"Me too." Steph smiles back. "Come over any time."

"Same time tomorrow?" he picks up the offer immediately, grinning as he slowly backs up towards the door.

"Sure, why not," Stephanie shrugs, and he didn't expect her to agree so easily. But then, she crosses her arms. "You know, just so I won't go insane talking to my cats."

"Not my words!" he reminds her with his hands raised placatingly. He stumbles into his discarded shoes, and it's probably high time to stop pushing his luck anyway. With less grace than he'd like while the woman of his dreams is watching, he steps into them, and springs back up, ready to say goodbye. "See you tomorrow, then?"

"Wait, wait wait!" 

He cocks his head curiously, and is a bit disappointed when Steph presses conditioner into his hands. 

"Ah, right. I totally forgot." He laughs awkwardly. But then, she's not letting go, so he looks up at her with a questioning sound. 

Her eyes are glued to his mouth.

"You want your good night kiss?" he asks without thinking.

Thankfully, neither of them might be doing it right now.

"How else am I supposed to fall asleep?" Steph counters with a slight pout, briefly raising her gaze to meet his eyes. 

This time, they lean in together. 

It's soft and hesitant like they are each a delicate, porcelain statue. Like it is a good night kiss, one of many, closing the day with tenderness and care, with no plans to start anything more. It still leaves Eddie short on oxygen, too focused on the woman in front of him to think about something as trivial as breathing. 

"Goodnight." Steph breaks away first with a soft smile.

Eddie nods stupidly, hands still clutching the bottle in his grasp. 

"Goodnight."

tags:

@wheneverfeasible @steddieinthesun @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @bumblebeecuttlefishes @phantomcat94

@tartarusknight  @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @estrellami-1 @disrespectedgoatman

@madigoround @tartarusknight @blasvemous @cryptid-system @hiei-harringtonmunson

@hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @dreamercec @manliest-of-muppets @bookbinderbitch @marklee-blackmore 

@icecat @rootbeerandmusic

[torturedtypewritersdept]

blue eyes + bruises - part eight

✯ pairing:

doctor!rafe cameron x fem!reader

✯ summary:

a tragic car accident looks like it'll be the end for you, but dr. cameron is here to make sure that doesn't happen.

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, and fear, car accident, death of a spouse (not rafe or y/n), major surgery, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)

Your fingers danced across the black leather bound table that you laid on, the pitter patter of your fingernails could be heard from the hallway, that much you were sure of. Hannah, your favorite physical therapist and friend, worked diligently, massaging your hips and working her way down to your knee repeating the same actions. This was the warm up for every appointment, stimulating the muscles and helping them loosen up. 

“Where’s Rafe today?” 

She asked, bringing you out of your relaxed bliss. 

“He’s in surgery, some kind of ligament repair.” 

You responded, not pretending to know the technical jargon he had spat out earlier in the morning. She nodded in response. 

“How’s this feeling?” 

She questioned, pressing her fingertips a little deeper into the skin around your kneecap as she worked tirelessly to massage the muscles. 

“It hurts a little.” 

You replied through clenched teeth. She stopped her actions, removing the gloves from her hands and helping you sit up, legs hanging off the table. 

“Let’s try to do your standing balance exercises, three times on each leg for thirty seconds.” 

You nodded, gently sliding off the table and moving to stand on your good leg. You balanced for the allotted thirty seconds, doing your best not to grip the table that you stood parallel to. Once the timer went off, you switched legs and restarted it, the seconds counting down once again. At the twenty second mark, your kneecap went backwards, the stress of your weight causing it to buckle underneath you. It was quick – so quick in fact, that you hadn’t even realized what happened until you were on the ground clutching your knee to your chest. Hannah was beside you on the floor in less than a minute. You watched as she tucked her shoulder length chestnut colored hair behind her ears and called another therapist over to help lift you back on to the table. 

“y/n, are you alright?” 

The tears in your eyes clearly told her that you weren’t and she was worried. 

“What hurts, sweetheart?” 

She asked, laying her hand on your forehead to get your attention, but also to let you know she was here for you. Your eyes opened only slightly and you tried to turn toward her, a wince dancing across your features. 

“Just hurts, Hannah.” 

“Where’s it hurt, y/n?” 

She questioned with intent, needing to know the source of the problem before she alerted Rafe that something was wrong. 

“My knee.” 

You croaked out, your throat fought against the words as they came out, creating an assault on your vocal cords. You sounded much like a bullfrog. ‘Shit’, she thought, grabbing the walkie-talkie from her pants where it was clipped onto her belt loop and speaking into it. 

“Can someone give me the whereabouts of Dr. Cameron?” 

A voice you recognized as Jenni spoke back. 

“He’s in OR 2, finishing up on a compound femur fracture with an ACL repair.”

Hannah nodded, holding her breath before she spoke again, thanking the nurse before putting the walkie down and calling the operating room Rafe was in. It rang three times before Jenni, who was Rafe’s scrub nurse, picked up the phone. 

“Jenni, how long is he going to be?” 

She asked the nurse on the other end of the phone. 

“He just finished up. What’s wrong? Do you need to talk to him?” 

“Yes – it’s y/n.” 

“Dr. Cameron, Hannah down in pt needs to speak to you about your girl.” 

Rafe stood in the scrub room, delicately coating his fingers with soap and scrubbing them as he was taught to so many years ago. It had become second nature in the same way that loving you had. As his brain registered the words of his scrub nurse, the hair on the back of his neck stood – something was wrong. He finished washing his hands quickly and he walked at a fast pace, his long legs approaching the wall the phone hung on and taking it from the nurse, giving her a forced smile. 

“Hannah? What’s the matter? Is my sweet girl okay?” 

His tone was coated with urgency, a call he got in an operating room the day Molly died at the forefront of his brain. Him knowing that you weren’t her, this time, simply wasn’t enough and he could hear his heartbeat quicken as he waited for her reply; the beating of his chest like drums pounding against his ears. 

“Don’t freak out, just yet. I need your doctor skills, not your boyfriend ones. She fell doing some balance exercises and she’s complaining of knee pain at a seven on the scale. Do you want me to send her to get images before you come up?” 

A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he waited to hear the news of your fate. A knee injury he could fix, but your heart not beating he couldn’t and he knew that. 

“If she’s saying seven, she means nine — How did she fall?” 

He finally responded with a simple question, but Hannah knew that for an orthopedic surgeon that question was everything, that question told a story. 

“I had her do the standing balance exercises where she stands on each leg for thirty seconds and when she stood on her surgery leg it collapsed underneath her.” 

Rafe sucked in a deep breath, remembering the torn ACL behind your kneecap that still needed surgery. He hated the idea of stripping you of the little bit of independence you had gained almost as much as you did, but he knew eventually it would have to be done. 

“Yeah, have Jenni take her for imaging; mri and x-ray; possibly a ct if those don’t show anything – but use that as a last resort. She had a torn acl from the accident that hasn’t been repaired. The physical therapy has helped her gain mobility in her hips but I'm sure it’s made the knee angry. Do me a favor and don’t spook her with it yet, let me look over all the imaging before we talk to her about it. I want to make sure surgery is even necessary before we scare her half to death.” 

“Okay, will do, doc.” 

She responded. 

“One more thing before you go – will you facetime me off of her phone. I just need to see her for a moment.” 

His heavy exhale let her know that he did indeed need to see you, if only for a brief minute. His anxiety was likely making him spiral, it was likely making him think about Molly; placing you in the same position she was in, yet again or placing his mind in a distant memory of her – a time when he couldn’t be there, just like he was unable to in this current moment. 

“She’s okay, Rafe. You got it, give me just a minute, alright?” 

“Yeah, no worries. Take your time.” 

He said as he hung up the phone, swallowing thickly and wiping away the tiny tears from the corners of his eyes. He paced in the scrub room, back and forth in front of the sink, his thoughts overcoming him. He began to think back to the day just a few short months ago – the first time he saw you; bruised, beaten, and bloody, more bones broken than not. He thought about you laying there, unable to breathe on your own as he kissed your hands in the same way he kissed hers when she was in the same position. Rafe stood with his hands against the sink, leaning over it, realizing that you were like her in more ways than he was comfortable with and the only thing that set you apart from her was the fact that you were alive and she wasn’t. Rafe halted his pace, leaning over the sink with his hands against the metal and after a brief moment, he ripped the scrub cap he was wearing off of his head, chucking it at the wall. He took out his cell phone from the back pocket of his pale blue scrubs and scrolled until he found her contact – a photo of his arms wrapped around her from behind at a party from when they were sixteen. He remembered that night vividly; it was the night they kissed for the first time and though he was a world away from backwards caps and college plans, he still smiled at seeing her like that, happy and carefree and in love. Her blonde hair had made its home against her face from the wind of the water and as Rafe closed his eyes and held his phone to his chest he could still see her, just like that. He wished for a moment that she was still here and that he didn’t have to remember her in only fractures of broken memories, he wished for a moment that she was you. He quickly pushed his thoughts aside, dialing Molly’s number. Oftentimes, when things had become too much after her passing on from this life into the next, Rafe called her with no other expectation other than listening to the sound of her sweet voice on the other end of the line. Today, however, was different. He needed to tell her about you, even though he was ninety-percent sure she was the one who brought the two of you together, he needed to be the one to tell her that he wasn’t hopeless anymore and he wasn’t alone and that he was okay and he needed to tell her that he loved her. The line rang and rang until he got her voicemail – “hey this is Molly, sorry I missed you but I'm probably doing something fun! Leave me some words if ya can and i’ll get back to you soon.” Her sing-song voice penetrated his ears and suddenly he was no longer twenty-eight. Instead, he was nineteen watching her sing bon jovi at the top of her lungs in a college town, hole in the wall, bar. He was smiling at her and for a brief moment he forgot that she was gone. Rafe hung up, dialing it again and again and again four times before he decided to speak into her voicemail box. His cheeks were soaked with tears, his lips trembling and at the sound of the beep, he spoke. 

“Moll – baby, shit. I fucking miss you. If you were here, things would be so different. But you’re not and I can feel myself pulling away from your memory, from our marriage – Moll, I met someone and she’s good and she’s pure and she’s perfect and she’s so much like you and yet, so different. Sarah set us up, can you believe that? I know if you were here you’d be friends.” 

For a brief moment, Rafe breathed into the phone, somehow expecting her to pick up, to breathe back, to tell him it was okay. Yet, somehow without the confirmation of her words, he knew it was, he felt her telling him that it was even a world apart.

“Moll – I don't want to ruin this thing with her, baby. So, this will be my last call. I just wanted to tell you that I love you and that I’m sorry. I should’ve done so many things differently. But, I’m happy, Molly. For the first time since you left, I’m happy and I think I gotta hold onto that, isn’t that what you always told me, sweetheart?”

A beep infiltrated Rafe’s ears and he pulled the phone down, glancing at the screen – incoming facetime sweet girl – displayed across it. He wiped his eyes and straightened his shoulders as he dragged his fingers across the screen and your sweet face appeared in front of him. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Hannah said you were feeling pretty bad?” 

His eyes softened as he took in your form, one of the many t-shirts of his that he had given you draped over your chest and your eyes were bloodshot; you had been crying. 

“I’m okay, Rafe, baby, don’t worry.” 

You choked out the words. 

“You’re gonna have to get better at trying to fool me, baby girl. I can tell you’ve been crying.” 

You swallowed thickly, looking up at Jenni as she pushed you toward the x-ray room in a wheelchair. Your leg was propped up and laid out straight in front of you with a bag of ice on top of it. 

“I’m just worried this means more surgery.” 

You responded and it was like Rafe could see the wheels spinning in your brain, which he needed to put a stop too. He wasn’t about to let you spiral the way that he had only moments ago. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself yet, baby. We’ll look over the tests once they’re done and figure out what’s wrong.” 

You felt numb, a feeling of dread looming over you. Rafe felt it too. 

“I guess it pays to have a doctor boyfriend, huh?” 

You chuckled lightly as the words left your mouth. 

“It does indeed, pretty girl.” 

He replied, a boyish grin displayed heavily on his lips. The only thing you could do was stare at him in all his glory and admire how beautifully and perfectly sculpted he was. 

“Okay, Rafe, she’s gotta go, we're in the radiography department.” 

Jenni’s words brought the both of you out of the bliss of each other’s company. 

“Okay, pretty girl, it’s time to go. I’ll see you soon, alright?” 

“Okay, Rafe.” 

He watched your shoulders droop and he could almost feel the anxiety through the phone as it rattled through your chest and your eyes met your hands. 

“Hey, baby girl – look at me.” 

You obliged, your eyes flicking up to meet his blue ones. 

“You’re okay, baby. Everything’s okay. You trust me don’t you?” 

“Of course, I do, Rafe.” 

“You trust that I'll take care of you like I always have, don’t you?” 

“Of course, I do, Rafe.” 

“Okay, then there’s nothing to worry about. No matter what it is, baby. I’ll get you through it.” 

You nodded, pursuing your lips into a forced smile. 

“None of that, baby. Give me a real smile.” 

You giggled at how well he knew you and how well he could read your expressions. He paid attention – you’d give him that. 

“There she is.” 

He cooed. 

“I love you, Rafferty.” 

You softly spoke, your voice sending shivers down his spine. 

“And I love you, sweet girl. I’ll see you in a little while.” 

He smiled – the Rafe Cameron smile – and kissed two of his fingers before placing them against the camera and watched as you repeated his actions before hanging up the phone. 

-

Rafe’s worst fears had been confirmed – you needed another surgery. He sat at the nurse's station, studying the images of the inside of your knee over and over again, racking his brain for any other solution, but he couldn’t find one. You had a complete tear of your ACL and MPFL which could only be fixed with surgery and he wanted more than anything in this moment not to be the bearer of bad news, not to be the doctor; for once, just to be the concerned boyfriend. He made his way into your room, taking in your sleeping form, your top half still draped in his clothes and your hair a mess, stuck against your face through the sweat that your sleep had brought on. He smiled to himself because he loved seeing you like that and he’d love it even more if it was in the bed next to him, not in a hospital. He moved towards you, kicking his tennis shoes off and scooting your body slightly as he nuzzled his into yours. You quietly stirred, blinking rapidly trying to gain your bearings,  chasing the warmth that your body was draped in. You looked up at Rafe and smiled sleepily, like a newborn baby seeing it’s fist glimpse of the world. 

“Hey, pretty girl.” 

He whispered, moving your sweat drenched hair from in front of your face. 

“Hi” 

You croaked back to him. He pulled you in, laying his head against yours and draping his arms around your back, hugging you like your existence, put all his broken pieces back together and it did in a way. 

“What’s the matter, baby?” 

You asked him, he was sad and you could tell. But, you weren’t sure what was plaguing him. 

“I just looked at your test results, sweet girl, and it’s not good news.” 

The look on his face was somber and you knew what it meant. 

“I need surgery, don’t I?” 

He gingerly nodded his head and you no longer contained the dread and the anxiety within you as the dam broke and your tears began to soak his scrubs. 

“I know, baby, I know.” 

He whispered into your hairline as he laid kisses upon it and rubbed the back of your head. You held onto him for dear life, clutching to his biceps with more force than he thought possible. 

“I-I can’t do it again, I won’t.” 

You breathed out amidst stutters and his blood ran cold. He pushed you forward so he could look in your eyes and confusion laced his features as he took you in, tear stained cheeks and all. 

“What do you mean, baby? We need to do this, okay?” 

“No, Rafe!” 

You snapped. This is what he was afraid of; he couldn’t force you, not really. But, he needed to take care of you in a way that he couldn’t take care of her. 

“What do you mean no?” 

He pushed with a hardened look in his eyes. His features were still gentle, the anger and frustration that bubbled beneath him dancing subtly against his skin. 

“You — You don’t get it, okay?” 

Your voice came out broken and frustrated and for a brief moment he almost smiled. 

Sweet girl, I get it in more ways than you understand. You don’t understand why I need to take care of you and that’s okay. 

“Why don’t you tell me what I don’t get, baby.” 

He spoke softly, bringing his fingertips to your cheek and brushing them gently against your skin. 

“You don’t understand — you don’t get that I just got my independence back and you want to take it away again!” 

You raised your voice and Rafe was shell shocked but he also knew it was because you didn’t feel heard. Molly only yelled when she felt misunderstood and she had yelled at him the day of her accident because he wasn’t listening to her point of view. Suddenly it at all made sense, the parallels of the accident were indeed a second chance. He sat up straight and vowed to change things, to make you feel heard in a way that he couldn’t do for her. 

“Baby, I’m sorry for not listening to you. I don’t want to take your independence away, in fact, it’s quite the opposite. You’ve torn some ligaments in your knee, sweet girl, and without surgery it’ll cause lifelong problems, you won’t be able to stand long enough to teach, baby. I only want to help. I didn’t mean to make you think otherwise.” 

You swallowed the weight of his words and they felt thick against your throat. 

“Rafe, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.” 

He moved quickly pulling you back to his chest and kissing your forehead. 

“Can I tell you something, sweet girl?” 

He asked, cradling your head in his hands as you cried into his chest. You simply nodded in response, as your cries turned to sniffles and you clutched tighter to his chest. 

“My wife, Molly, died in an accident very similar to yours and I've struggled for a long time with being unable to save her, to take care of her the way that I've taken care of you. So, I just need you to let me, yeah?” 

You nodded your head in response before laying it against his pectoral muscle once more. 

“Rafe, were you working when she was brought in?” 

You looked up at him, thinking surely he wasn’t. 

“Yeah, baby. They called me while I was in the operating room. She and I had a fight, a massive one and she had left to go be with her parents. She never made it out of the city, her train crashed ten minutes after it left.” 

“I’m sorry, Rafferty.” 

You couldn’t do anything other than cry for him and with him and clutch to him like your life depended on it, because it very well did and maybe so did his. 

taglist:

as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3

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[carn4g3]

Creepypasta Relationship HCs (2)

Characters - BEN Drowned, Tim Wright (Masky), Brian Thomas (Hoodie), Kagekao

Summary - A few more glimpses into how these creeps are as partners (w/ 50% more possessiveness !)

TWs - Descriptions of yandere behavior, cheating, stalking, possessiveness/jealousy and overall unhealthy relationships, mentions of kidnapping and violence, & very brief mentions of sex and smoking

Word Count - 3.5k (~700 to 900 each)

A/N: Thank you for all the love on the first part <33 I know a few people requested these characters alongside some other new ones in the time it took me to write this. Just know that I'll have ones for any additional characters out sometime soon if you happened to leave a request along those lines :)

Part 1

BEN Drowned

Before I get to anything else, BEN is perpetually in his early 20s in my characterization of him.

He arguably has the most contact with people outside of Slender's influence simply by being an ipad kid. Because of that, he's most likely to form a relationship with someone if they are from the normal world. BEN doesn't necessary hate his colleagues or Slender, but they're all just so fucked up. Someone with even half the emotional baggage of a killer would be much better.

Now, it's pretty obvious that BEN isn't exactly the most palatable to the average human being. He has a million alternate accounts, all of which assume false identities, but he does have a select few that are more personal. On those accounts, he spends his time in various forums or chats where he can discuss his favorite games and other media. You two would probably connect on one of those shared interests, maybe even several, and he would be hooked from there.

BEN isn't the most patient person, but it would take more than a few months of talking before he truly built a connection with you. He'd prefer you reciprocate his feelings after that point, but it wouldn't deter him if you didn't. He's self aware enough to know that he needs to give you time to adjust to the fact that he's not the human man you thought you were talking to and that he crawled out of your very own computer screen. Though, back to his impatience, it's probably not nearly enough time.

The topic of monogamy with BEN would be a variable subject. He's well aware of the litany of ways partners define themselves given the somewhat questionable time he spends online. Ideally, BEN would see himself as unconstrained by a relationship, and, therefore, you should have an open end as well. Though, the less mature part of him sees you as something of a prize that should be reserved for him alone, and that's the side that takes over.

BEN wouldn't allow you to have romantic or sexual relationships with anyone other than himself. Meanwhile, the unspoken rule is that he could... if he wanted to. Does that mean he actually has other partners? No, not at all. It was a miracle you wanted to enter a relationship with him willingly, if you even did. There's no way in hell he's going to replicate that easily.

Despite all of that, he's not very outwardly possessive. He carries himself with a certain arrogance, it shouldn't be a shock that extends to his relationships. If you seem close to someone else, he still thinks you'll choose him in the end. At the same time, he's your most avid stalker. There are cameras damn near everywhere nowadays, and he doesn't even need to break a sweat to access their footage. In the situation that you're cooperative enough that he doesn't need to force you into his living space, he watches where you go. Even if you can't leave his side, he still tracks you one way or another. Nothing happens between you and another person that doesn't go unseen by him, and, if someone is too close, he'll pay them a "friendly" visit.

He shows affection the best through quality time and gift giving. Admittedly, his definition of quality time is almost exclusively reserved for playing games or showing you something on his plethora of devices. On occasion, he can suck it up and do something that you like: going outside is in his skillset... albeit reluctantly. As for gift giving, BEN is surprisingly good at getting things you like even though it seems like he's never listening. You might want to avoid asking how he got the money for such things, though. He won't give you a straight answer anyway.

Physical affection with BEN would be a bit strange. He's not entirely an apparition, but his form isn't totally corporeal either. Objects he's holding can phase through his grip at times without warning, though it's not quite to the point where he can pass through walls. When he lingers close enough to you, it feels almost like there's a faint, electrical buzzing on your skin. He can still touch you despite that, though your hair may start standing after a while. It's only when he lingers near you for too long that there's an issue. The static electricity building between you becomes pretty potent, resulting in an actual electric shock once he does make contact. BEN can be a little sadistic, but he's not particularly interested in hurting you. So, he tends to avoid touching you much or, if he does, it'll be pretty quick.

While BEN has a bit of a reason for falling short on physical affection, he has no good excuse for his lackluster words of affection. He thrives in making lewd comments on your body and that's it. The only way to get him to say he loves you is by saying it yourself. Even then, his response is pretty lacking, but it's not out of a genuine dislike for you. The way his ears turn a light pink, burning most red at their pointy ends, indicates he's at least a little fond of you.

Masky

Quick note because I can see this becoming confusing, I tend to refer to Slender as the Operator when writing for Marble Hornets characters because I think that's what they would call him. It's still the same old Slendy tho :)

Being in this fandom for so long, I can see the development of my frontal lobe in the form of my hcs of this man.

Tim is well into his 40s. He thinks a dating life is far beyond him, and, even if it weren't, he hardly knows what it's like to be a "normal" person anymore after 20 years as a proxy. While I say all that, if he were to find love, it would likely not be among the Operator's ranks. Tim despises the creature and everything it stands for, but he knows he's not strong enough to evade it. He finds respite in the areas outside of its power and is mostly likely to let go of his inhibitions for someone in that mental space.

He is not 100% ready to embrace a relationship, romantic or otherwise. The Operator isn't clueless to Tim's resent; it's why newer proxies like Kate and Toby are much more infatuated with the creature. To keep the less conditioned ones around, it has to extend its control a bit more uniquely. Tim knows that you're at risk of the Operator doing something to you, and he can't handle that. Because of that, his presence in your life isn't consistent. He's trying to prove to himself that he doesn't need you and, to the Operator, that you don't get in the way of his work. Though, Tim has never been the most strong willed. He comes crawling back to you every time.

While most of the others are willing to kidnap the person of their affections, I don't think Tim would quite get to that point. He prefers that you have your own separate life away from him. It makes him feel like you two are a normal couple, but he's certainly not a saint. Mentally stable people do not become proxies of the Operator, so Tim is riddled with some less than ideal possessive and controlling tendencies. He wants you to be dedicated to him and only him. Any other romantic or sexual relationships are completely out of the question for you, in his mind.

Does he quite monitor if you keep up your end of the bargain on that? No. When he disappears for months at a time, he does anything he can to erase you from his mind. Gaining an almost iron will, he won't even stalk you until he gets especially desperate, and that's usually the point when he shows up again.

When he is around, though, he expresses issues with your other relationships quite readily: platonic or even familial. Tim is very deeply insecure in himself. Who wouldn't be after finding out their existence alone has led to the deaths of many? He's buried all of that so deep at this point that even he hardly knows it though, so he calls himself a "traditional" man instead. He prefers your deepest affections to be saved for him, is that so wrong?

Even though his lifestyle is far from anything traditional, he sees himself as the provider. Regardless of your gender, you're the caretaker or the homebody. Like I said earlier, he's fine with you having a separate life-- it's the modern age after all, the least of his worries should be whether or not you work. But, he expects you to see him as a dominant figure that should be listened to, and he will follow through on that.

Anger management? Who the hell is that? Tim's job grates on him, physically and mentally. That's part of the reason he smokes a pack a day, and why he's with you as well. He tends to be at his most vulnerable and volatile when he turns to you, and those emotions are usually hardly a result of your actions. When Tim is angry, though, any little thing can set him off and make that anger entirely your fault. He'll tend to distance himself before things get physical, but verbal arguments are far from uncommon. One of these arguments is usually what prompts him to disappear back to the depths of the woods. But, if he's feeling a little less sorry for himself, he'll come back to you and give a begrudging apology. He does truly feel bad when he snaps at you and wishes it wouldn't happen. At the same time, he has a completely self-pitying and helpless approach to fixing that issue.

Surprisingly, he's big on physical affection. If he's with you, you're likely a little secret of his, so he can only get his time in after completing his daily tasks. He's tired as hell by that point, so he'll just sprawl out wherever you are. In bed? He's right behind you. Watching a movie? Your couch is comfy enough to sleep on. You're busy doing things? He can fall asleep standing if need be. He prefers if you go about initiating certain things like hugs and cuddles, but he can handle initiating a kiss or more.

When it comes to words of affection, on the other hand, just be happy with the few affectionate gestures you can get. It takes a war in his brain to so much as utter the words "sorry," you'd be shit out of luck to hear "I love you" or anything deeper than that. If he's feeling especially sappy, he might leave you a handwritten note. His handwriting is absolutely atrocious, worse than a doctor's script, and takes some analysis to decipher. Once you get it, that will be the closest glimpse at Tim's true feelings towards you.

Hoodie

I would like to think Brian is similarly still in touch with parts of his humanity as Tim is. But, that would be wishful thinking, wouldn't it?

Brian is a stalker first and a lover second. While normal people might unwind by watching TV or even reading a book, Brian takes similar joy in simply watching you from a far. He would find people outside of the Operator's control most interesting to watch, but it wouldn't matter at the end of the day. If you capture his interests, he'll watch-- maybe even take videos.

I imagine his main tasks under the Operator involve intel collection. He's highly skilled in slinking around in the shadows and not being caught, unless of course he wants to instill some unease in the mind of his victim. As a result, it's very unlikely you would notice him lurking. He's not there to unsettle you necessarily, but he might if he finds himself feeling a certain way. You're his most convenient entertainment at the end of the day, so it's not really in his desire to encourage you to get others involved or even move somewhere less convenient.

If you do happen to notice his presence, he's almost a little impressed at your perceptiveness. Not to mention, it makes the second phase of his plan a little easier. Brian may be content to watch endlessly, but he doesn't stop himself from exploring his curiosity to be included in your life. For him, he feels like he's known you forever. For you, he's crafted your interactions across the span of several weeks or even months to get you interested. With the added weight of a secret stalker on your psyche, it only draws you closer to his "welcoming" arms.

Brian isn't quite to the point where he sees himself as a sole provider. Once again, it's more interesting for him if you have at least a few interests beyond him. Like a beach episode in an anime, Brian sees your endeavors outside of your home as a welcomed (but temporary) change in setting. Not nearly enough people acknowledge that the Marble Hornets guys are from Alabama, in my opinion. It's not exactly the most progressive state, and Brian likely holds some toxic masculine values. He thinks of himself as a sort of "man of the house." You should listen to him, and he expects you to dedicate a lot of time to your relationship. In his mind, he dedicates a lot of time to you, even if most of that dedication is unknown to you.

Before he even went forward with inserting himself into your narrative, he was already interfering with the others in your life. He tries to act all stoic, but he is still very possessive at the end of the day. I've explained that some of the other characters find their possessiveness and jealousy rooted in their insecurities. Brian is certainly not immune to those feelings, but I think his issues stem from what I can best describe as an objectification of others. He views you almost like a hobby, something that he puts his free time into. He feels an almost bitter jealousy when others try to catch your attention with less than half of the pristine planning and attention to detail he executed. Just as he can stalk you, he can stalk others. He will make his watchful presence much more malicious and well known to the people he wants out of your life.

His go to forms of affection are acts of service and quality time. Ignoring that he sees stalking you as a form of quality time, he likes taking you on dates. His appearance isn't something too noteworthy to most people, so he can easily ditch the mask (if you even know he has one) and hit the town. He's a big fan of dinner and a movie or a little nature hike if you're interested in more outdoorsy activities like him. If you're more into stay-home dates, he'll happily watch a movie from the comfort of your couch and help you cook a dinner for two.

As for acts of service, he takes pride in the fact that he's a bit of a handyman. It's not like you can exactly get the usual help when you live secretly in the woods as a proxy of an immortal eldritch being. If you so much as breathe a word of issue about something in your home, he's on it. Carrying something heavy? He'll get it for you. It doesn't matter if you can do it yourself, he's going to do it now. Weaponized incompetence fears him. Asking Brian to do a task for you almost always ensures it will get done within the day.

He doesn't honestly care too much for physical affection. As I've already established, he's happy to do damn near anything you ask of him. If you want attention that way, simply ask. In general, he asks for very little in return. Although, when he does get around to asking for more, there's no guarantee he won't push your boundaries a little uncomfortably.

On the topic of communication, he's not very talkative and prefers to listen to you instead. Words of affection are few and far between, but he does have some quirks. It won't take an army for him to tell you he loves you, and he has a sleeve full of endearing nicknames to call you ("love" is his favorite).

Kagekao

Where do I even start with Kage.

He doesn't have any specific preference if you're a worker of Slender just like him or not. If asked why he does anything for the creature, he'll say it's simply because it's the "best" arrangement in this modern age. On the surface, that's a pretty reasonable explanation given that demons aren't exactly common or readily accepted members of society. However, the real reason is that Slender gets what it wants and is a hell lot more powerful than Kage. The demon begrudgingly does what he has to and tries to spend the rest of his time getting the fun he would prefer.

While some of the others might begin their interests by watching from afar, Kage pops into your life right off the bat. He finds entertainment in watching, but it's so much more interesting to have those interactions up close. Especially if you're not as familiar with inhuman entities, Kage takes pleasure in eliciting those responses of perplexion from you.

Living in a world largely populated by what he perceives as "weak humans," he's gained quite the ego. If you're not a demonic entity, he most certainly considers himself superior to you in all ways. Even if you are a demonic entity, he has a very specific criteria for what he considers to be a "real" demon and would still likely see himself as better. On the other hand, his underestimation of you tends to lead to interesting reactions in the case that you can pack a bit of a punch against the demon. (*cough* he's into it *cough*)

Like Tim, a relationship with Kagekao wouldn't ever really get a chance to be defined because he likes to bounce in and out of your life on a dime. Although, he certainly doesn't feel any guilt or even apprehension to pursue his interests in you. He recognizes you could get targeted by some less favorable attention (Slender being the worst), but he's interested in seeing how you'd react.

He is absolutely with other people in addition to you. I can't imagine he has many relationships that are too far past friends with benefits (everyone wants to fuck a demon, this app proves it), but I wouldn't put it past him. For that reason, he tends to turn a blind eye to your escapades. That being said, if your relationship with him borders on something more romantic, he expects you to have no other romantic partners.

Because he's not too consistently involved in your life, Kage isn't the most possessive on the list. On occasion, he'll express his opinions on the other people you spend your time with, but they're usually empty threats. If they really upset him, he'll eliminate them from your life. Does that mean death? Or simply scaring them off? You don't really want to know.

Like many of these guys, Kage isn't big on clear demonstrations of love like physical affection or words. His best show of affection is gift giving. He's not quite a kleptomaniac, but he does have what can only be described as a dragon's hoard of shiny trinkets. If asked, he won't say any of them are particularly special. Though, he does have a lengthy story for how he acquired each one, and he won't just readily give them out... except for you. Especially if he has matching sets of something, he'll tend to gift you one of the halves. You might not necessarily want or even like all the trinkets Kage gifts you, but you'll have to keep and display them. If not, Kage will do a bit of redecorating for you

Gotta let the brain worms speak on this one, he likes to offer you help, but he is not actually helpful. Kage thinks he can do practically anything. He's a demon in a human's world, after all. But can he actually follow through? No. Not at all. He gives up on tasks pretty easily when they stop being interesting. Even in the case that he goes through with completing the whole thing, you might have preferred to just do it yourself.

Don't get me wrong, his affections aren't all bad. He tends to think he's too good for physical affection, but he can be surprisingly sweet and comforting. Additionally, while he won't say it out loud, you might find that one of his gifts has an oddly romantic inscription etched on it. Trust, Kage makes up for his shortcomings.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three's a Crowd 2

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Abnesti, Steve Rogers, Steve Kemp

Summary: You’re offered a deal without all the details.

Note: happy friday

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your eyes stray to the table of cookies again. In the rush of days, blending together with back to back shifts and disparate hours of sleep, you lost track of yourself. When you finally thought to eat, you found an empty cupboard and just as desolate bank account. Rent, electricity, all that ate away at your already leaking reservoir.

Your stomach grumbles and you clasp your hands together, pushing on your middle to ease the clenching. You're so hungry you can barely focus on Caroline. You blink and make yourself listen. You don't want to be disrespectful.

If Kelsey is on shift tonight, she'll let you snag a bag of fries at least. Not the best meal, but something.

You feel weak the more you think about food. A bit dizzy. As you push your shoulders back, your eyes meet another pair. Steve smiles at you from behind his square glasses. You rock and give a sheepish grin.

You do your best to stay alert. You have a half-shift after this and you're not sure how you'll get through. You should have skipped today.

When at last the session lets out, you hurry to join the line, checking your phone for the time. You don't want to miss the bus.

"Working after?" Steve startles you as you shuffle up the table and reach for a cookie. The white macadamia are your favourite. You keep from scarfing it down as you so desperately want to.

"Um, yes," you reply.

"Bus?" He takes a cookie and bites into it with a hum. You're salivating.

"Yeah," you cough. "I should go catch it."

You wrap your cookie in a napkin and step out of queue. He follows.

"Would you like a ride?" He offers.

You nearly trip, "oh no, I couldn't. That's so kind though."

"I don't mind." He drawls. "You work a lot?"

"I guess. But really, you don't have to--"

"You look as if you might fall asleep on the bus," he muses.

"Oh, no, I'm... fine."

"Well, I do hate to keep you then but I hoped to speak with you about something."

"Me?" You utter in surprise.

"Yes, well, we all know each other here. I just thought... well, we all seem rather lonely, don't we?"

"Sure, uh," you look down at the cookie then him. "Alright, I'll take the ride. Can I give you some change for gas."

"Please, don't you even fret," he waves you off.

He follows you to the door and holds it open. You go ahead of him and nibble on the cookie, unable to resist anymore. He points you across the lot to the same car he drove past your window. The memory makes you cringe.

You stop outside the passenger door and chew furiously. He climbs in the other side, "coming?"

"I don't want to get crumbs in your car."

"No worry, please. It's cold."

You look down at your sweater. You're shivering. You're not so much used to the bluster as done fighting it. You cover the cookie and put it in your pocket. You dust off your chest and hands before you get in.

He turns the engine as you buckle your seat belt. A smooth hum rolls through the car. It's so nice you feel as if you might mess it up just by looking.

"Um, so," you begin as he backs out. "What did you want to talk about? I hope... when I asked about your wife, I didn't mean to upset you."

"Oh no, that's what these meetings are, right? We're supposed to talk about all that." He steers and glances over at you. "I appreciated you asking. You're a really sweet girl, you know that?"

'Sweet girl.' The way he says it makes you feel even small. That and how big he is. "Thanks, Steve..."

"I was only thinking. About you," he keeps one hand on the wheel as he leans his other elbow on the arm rest. "Working in that window. Two jobs, you said?"

"Yeah, one's only part-time."

"Still a lot." He remarks.

"But er, well, it's not... you don't need to worry about it."

"I do," he insists.

"Why, uh, well, we don't really know each other." You say as you peer put the window, your words sending a chill through you. You don't know much about Steve and you're in his car.

"I know you work hard. I know things have changed a lot for you since your grandmother passed. And you know how I understand that. That I'm going through the same..."

"Yeah, everyone in the group, I guess, um," you babble dumbly.

"I was only thinking... well, you lost more than your grandmother. You lost a whole life. You've had to adapt a lot more than the rest of us." He pauses and your stomach growls loudly. You wince. "Is that cookie all you've had?"

You shrug, "Steve, I hope... I hope you don't think I'm that helpless."

"Helpless, no, but we could all use help from time to time." He slows as he rolls into the lot of the fast food restaurant. The ride was a lot quicker than the bus. "Which is what I'm offering. Help."

"Ah, oh," you sink. "Is it that obvious?"

"You had a nice wool coat a month ago. You didn't have to fight to stay awake. You... spoke a lot more--"

"Right," you sniff. "It's nice of you to offer but I gotta learn to do things on my own now."

"Do you?" He angles in his seat. "Sweetie, it's no big deal."

"It is to me. I don't even know-- what is it? A job? You know I don't have a degree."

"Mmm, no," he pokes the tip of his tongue out and looks away. "Not a job, but... it isn't safe for you to be taking the bus so late. And definitely not good to be sitting in that cold window for hours."

"Steve, please, you're embarrassing me."

"I... I don't mean to so I'll be honest. I lost my wife, I miss her terribly. And you lost the person who took care of you. So we could... help each other fill that void."

You squint at him then your phone. You have ten minutes. You sigh.

"I don't know--"

"I am trying to be delicate here but... there's men who pay for girls like you. They pay a lot."

"What?" Your voice cracks. "You-- I'm not a prostitute. I--" you pull on the door handle but it doesn't budge. "Let me out. I can't believe-- I never even-- how--"

"I know you haven't before. Which is what I'm saying. I'll pay to be your first--"

You turn to him and hit his arm, "that's...wrong."

"I know. I'm just so... I would make it special, sweetie."

He reaches for you and you push yourself against the car door. Your eyes prick and you swat his hand away. You're humiliated that he would even think you would do that.

"Steve," you reach into your purse and take out a handful of change. You drop it in the cupholder and turn to unlock the door. He touches your shoulder and you shrug him off as you escape. "Thanks for the ride."

[chugging-antiseptic-dye]

how to annoy each seventeen member 🤷 :

can be thought of as the continuation of my 'three ways to piss off each seventeen member'

Scoups: Treat him to ice-cream after he buys anything expensive for you and brag about 'affording him' and 'paying for his lifestyle' to his face.

Jeonghan: Force him to work with a broken tool like small, blunt axe if he is diy-ing or a hairdryer which automatically switches to full heat while drying. I guarantee you nothing makes him madder than something not working like it should and him having no way to change it.

Joshua: Moving the decor he placed exactly in the perfect spot to maximise the aesthetiness of the room. Like putting the cushions in another place or moving the figurines in the shelf.

Jun: Purposely misplace any gifts he gives you like small figurines and trinkets. If he asks you about them, pretend you have no idea.

Hoshi: Scruff up his shoes. Guaranteed to piss him off for at least a month

Wonwoo: Pretend not to notice any small changes about him. If he gets a new haircut, ignore it. If he started to put more effort into his fashion, never comment on it.

Woozi: Mess with all the default settings in his computer or studio equipment

Mingyu: If you can handle his wrath, talk shit about one of his friends to his face :3

Dokyeom: Never believe any story he tells you. Always ask in a slightly doubtful voice, "Really?"

Minghao: Initiate a conversation about a deep and thoughtful topic only to interrupt him all the time while he is trying to say his piece

Seungkwan: Make a big show of being put off by his words and constantly overcorrect him

Vernon: Put on a shallow and airheaded persona and say things like, "I mean, as long as a song charts that means its good, right?" or "If it is from a brand, it is always amazing."

Chan: Be indecisive about everything constantly or change mind at the last second

[lurkingshan]

Theory of Love Episode 1: Dear Dakanda

And we're off! We begin this week with a 2005 romcom classic from Thailand: Dear Dakanda (the Thai title is more like "Close Friend"). The plot, in brief:

Mhoo buzzes off his luscious mane of hair and heads south to hit the beach. An accident on a boat lands him in the hospital with a broken leg and flirting with a local nurse, Nui, and as he gets to know her we flash back to his uni days in Chiang Mai to see what he's running from: Dakanda, the girl he met during Freshy games, fell in love with, and stayed close friends with while pining after her hopelessly throughout college. In the end, he ends up confessing only via letters after he already gave up and ran away, and the film ends on an ambiguous note.

For those who have seen TOL, I think the parallels here are fairly obvious, and the posters above confirm: Mhoo's story is Third's story. Like Mhoo, Third never says a word about his feelings, choosing to keep it to himself and cry and rage alone. And similar to Khai in these early episodes, Dakanda seems totally oblivious to her friend's feelings as she enjoys spending time with him.*

*There's another parallel to a Thai BL here: Nui is clearly an inspiration for Tharn in I Told Sunset About You! I won't get into that as it's off topic for this discussion. But it's fun to watch old Thai media and newly understand how shows we love were referencing it.

This movie is so much about how Mhoo hurt himself with his slience for years, and ultimately gave up without giving Dakanda a chance to even respond to his confession. Unfortunately, Third doesn't seem to have learned anything from watching it. We hear in his review of the film that he romanticizes--and ends up emulating--Mhoo's behavior rather than recognizing that Mhoo set himself up to fail and things might have gone differently if he was willing to be more honest with his friend. As @bengiyo pointed out, the fact that Third gets caught up in these heterosexual romance films and takes all the wrong lessons from them is part of the conflict at the heart of this story. I love how the show signals that by pointing us to this film right at the start. And with its story over the next 12 weeks, TOL will be in dialogue with this film, ultimately rejecting the notion that Mhoo's refusal to communicate and ambiguous ending was romantic.

As for this first episode, I love how it drops us right in the middle of Third's dramatic pining spiral as it sets up the world of the show. One of the things the show is super clear on is that Khai's player behavior, while kind of dickish, is fairly normal and accepted--Two and Bone act exactly the same way--and Third is only pressed about it because of his feelings. But as the film framing this episode signals, Third never says anything, just gets increasingly resentful as Khai keeps unwittingly reminding him that they are not on the same page.

And of course, he makes it worse for himself by agreeing to help Khai deal with his exes, a truly self-destructive choice that only fuels his jealousy. And every time Khai behaves selfishly or thoughtlessly or does anything to remind Third that their feelings are not mutual, his anger only grows, but Third can't help but press on it like a bruise. I groaned when Third went to catch Khai at the theater with the date he ditched him for; stop torturing yourself, my guy! For his part, Khai has some maturing to do, as he is far too willing to be an ass to his friends in the name of hooking up, and he also just doesn't get that he is constantly hurting Third's feelings by treating him so casually. But for the first half of the show, we are firmly in Third's story and perspective, and I'm excited to see him get to the end of his rope.

Tagging in my other watch partners in case they have anything to add: @neuroticbookworm @solitaryandwandering and @twig-tea.

[mysticstarlightduck]

Updated Writeblr Intro!

Hello, friends!!!

As promised, here is the updated version of my Writeblr Intro, containing updates about: my current Main WIPs, my artworks (+ the fact that I'm open for art commissions officially).

A lot of my other WIPs have been currently been put on hiatus (but not discarded, just put aside/archived for later continuation!) for the time being, so that I can focus on the main projects that have my attention now, and actually start to publish in the near future!

Let's go!

As always, remember to pls reblog/reply, like and follow to help boost to blog and my craft! 💞

✦ 𝐏𝐒. 𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 (𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓) ✦

Check out my old post for my personal info/basics (:

My Current WIPs:

About my Writing! I write fictional works and currently, am focusing a lot more in urban fantasy, dark medieval fantasy, cryptid horror, whump and futuristic science fiction! My works usually revolve around themes such as epic quests, secrets, adventure, rebels fighting an oppressive system, sibling bonds, acceptance/respect, outcasts, and much, much more! I love fluff and whump equally, and though my stories tend to focus on serious topics (or at least darker/heavier themes) within a fantasy/sci-fi setting, I like to have a good bit of humor, lighthearted fun, and comedy to my stories to lighten up the mood!

꧁ ⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹ ★ 𝑪𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒉 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒐𝒎! ★⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹꧂

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Dystopian Urban Dark Fantasy, Science-Fantasy, Mythological Creatures, Sci-fi, Modern Dystopia and Whump

𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭: In a gritty futuristic world where glitz and glamour meet heinous atrocities that reflect the worst aspects of modern cities, a group of individuals find themselves trapped in the same chaos of a world where most people do not know magic exists, yet a whole war between non-humans and their hunters has been waging for millenia. With a dangerous big tech, a bioengineering company belonging to the billionaire Dominic Fletcher - and a corporation that doubles as a secret society - seeking a way to extract magic from magical beings and give it to humans at all costs, their already authoritarian world tethers on the edge of becoming a new kind of nightmare altogether. In the midst of this, a rebel heist team, a serial killing vigilante, an Abyssian merman escaped from the labs and the daughter of a millionaire have joined together in an attempt to prevent catastrophe before its too late. The catch? Well, none for them. But its a different story for Noah - a loner teen who happens to be the younger brother of internationally beloved superstar and painfully self destructive addict, Tristan Mallory. Just like most of the population, Noah didn't know magic existed. And now, after finding it out by accident in the worst way, the truth is now coming to knock on his door in the form of Dominic's personal hired assassins. And Noah doesn't want to end up as another chalk outline.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: #wip crash stardom! #wip crash stardom #crash stardom!

Bonus:

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐓𝐚𝐠 (+ 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐬 (𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄)

⋆.⋆.✮⋆.✮⋆.°☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ 𝙎𝙪𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙖 𝙄𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽° ✮⋆.✮⋆

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: Science Fiction, Space Opera, Futuristic Adventure, Heist, Lab Whump, Space Dystopia, Thriller//Mystery

𝘼𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩:

In a faraway galaxy cluster trapped in a bloody conflict, Jack Tithus - an infamously rebellious intergalactic thief - and his misfit crew find themselves at the mercy of their galaxy's corrupt government after a heist gone wrong. Threatened with execution, Jack is offered a strange, suspicious deal: complete a mission for the Junction by stealing important encrypted files lost in enemy territory, and be spared from the firing squad. With no other choice, the crew accepts, but as they embark on a mission, Jack finds himself stuck in a second - secret - nightmare altogether when the Junction's chief scientist, an immoral yet elusive man known as The Director, makes him his favorite main test subject. Now, it is a race against time to get those files in time, but as their journey continues and dark truths about their galaxy and the war begin to unravel, Jack knows their lives are on the line, and that stepping into the fray may be his - and his crew's - only real shot at finding freedom before the Junction fulfills its catastrophic plans.

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨: #wip supernova initiative #supernova initiative

Bonus:

𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙒𝙄𝙋 𝘼𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙋𝙤𝙨𝙩 (+ 𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙙𝙗𝙤𝙖𝙧𝙙)

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙨, 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙒𝙄𝙋 𝙏𝙖𝙜 (to be put in a compendium soon and linked here)

🍂☕️🪵🍂 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕃𝕦𝕣𝕜𝕤 𝕀𝕟 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℍ𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨🍂☕️🪵🍂

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖: Midwestern Gothic Horror, Urban Fantasy, Coming of Age, Slasher Horror, Cryptid Thriller/Paranormal Mystery

𝔸𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥:

When Amy Millihan, a 16-year-old teen with a love for mysteries and cryptids, moves back into her dreary, isolated childhood hometown with her emotionally reserved older brother - and guardian - Dylan, who had to drop out of med school after their absent grandmother's death left them nothing but debts and the old abandoned family home in the forest outskirts of Vinethorn Grove, she thought this would be just another change to adapt to. But something's wrong with that town, something dead and terrible, she knows it, she can feel it - there's something off about some of the people there, and certaintly something very off with the forests. When Amy and the local goth teen who's become her ride-or-die end up chased down in the woods by a bloodthirsty monster that seems straight out of an eldritch horror movie, Amy ends up discovering a trail of unsolved missing persons cases and gory murders. The clock is ticking and whatever is hiding in this town, her only chance of surviving it - and keeping her loved ones alive - is uncovering it. If they don't want to become the prey next.

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕤: #wip what lurks in the hollow #what lurks in the hollow

Bonus:

ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝕎𝕀ℙ 𝔸𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕔 𝕋𝕒𝕘 (+ moodboard)

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕤, 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕓𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕀ℙ 𝕥𝕒𝕘 (to be put in a compendium soon and linked here)

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆⋆★⋆⋆★⋆⋆˖☾⋆ 𝐿𝑜𝓈𝓉⋆𝐹𝒶𝓁𝓁 ⋆☽⋆⋆⋆★⋆★⋆ ⋆★⋆★⋆

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: Magical Post Apocalypse, Eldritch Horror, Psychological Horror, Urban High Fantasy, Mystery/Thriller, Murder Mystery

𝒜𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉:

A world clinging to life in the aftermath of a magical fallout that tore at the fabric of reality irreparably, lawless and cutthroat, the remaining cities - or rather, decaying and improvised clusters of what once were metropolises - are ruled by a council of crime families known as the Pentarchs, which have taken over in the vacuum left by the fall of their previous government, each ruling their districts in their own iron-clad way and thriving in control over the chaos that is now the norm. Things however, are about to get even more complicated - which may at first seem impossible for a world where buildings have life of their own and strange mutated creatures lurk the wastelands. As a new wave cult arises, brutal murders and kidnappings begin to rattle what remains of their city's fragile stability, wreaking havoc in the sanity of its survivors. Ahron, a troubled teen with an obsession of studying the Gloom - their world's magical anomaly - in hopes of solving the mystery of the disappearance of his paranormal investigator mother, while avoiding the chaos of his home life, finds his life thrown further upside down when he is marked by the cult. And soon, he finds that he is not alone. There are others like him, and like him, they're no longer quite the same anymore. As a harrowing eldritch horror looms in the future's horizon, will Ahron and his new allies be able to free themselves of this mark and navigate their torn-apart world without becoming a part of it? That, only the darkness - and time - will tell.

𝒯𝒶𝑔𝓈: #wip lost fall #lost fall #wip: lost fall

Bonus:

��𝓁𝒶𝓎𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

𝒲𝐼𝒫 𝒜𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓉𝒾𝒸 𝒫𝑜𝓈𝓉 (+ 𝓂𝑜𝑜𝒹𝒷𝑜𝒶𝓇𝒹)

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐼𝓃𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓈 (𝒯𝒪 𝐵𝐸 𝑀𝒜𝒟𝐸)

. . .

> > > > > > > > > > > ♥ Side WIPs ♥ < < < < < < < < < < < <

(PS. Novels that aren't my main focus but aren't on hiatus, mainly self indulgent or WIPs I'm more chill about until I finish the ones above, may vary due to hyperfixations lmaoo.)

☆ Arrows of Nightfall - A medieval fantasy set in a world torn by war where the ruthless expansionist Therassi Empire seeks to conquer anything in its path, now-locked in brutal combat with Dachyros, a faraway Archipelago that is now one of the few rivals to the few contestants to its authority. In this chaos, a group of misfits unwillingly thrown into the fray must take sides on the war, but will they end it, or will the fires of war eventually twist them too in the end?

☆ The Ruined Sword - A land forsaken by the Gods, ruined by an ancient betrayal that none dare utter. A blight that spreads across the lands like wildfire, twisting the minds of the weak and corrupting the bodies of those its ghouls fell. Humongous beasts that lurk the vast emptiness between the ruins of empires that once were. In this world, civilizations cling to life in the few remaining cities - sheltered by Magyk - and battle for resources in the wasteland. After a cocky thief steals a shard of an ancient artefact from a pristine elven fortress, but finds himself caught amidst chaos, he finds himself thrown into a quest he never asked for. With an elf, no less. And time is ticking.

☆ Mutant Inquiries - In a dystopian, high-tech future, a group of mutant teenagers become vigilantes and crime fighters to rebel against the oppressive government regime and survive their crime-ridden city as a corrupt laboratory seeks to snatch from them their freedom and turn their dreams into nightmares.

. . .

ART COMISSIONS (examples and prices below the cut for more space lol)

Hello! I am a beginning artist looking to kickstart my digital drawing career and also in need of money now that the college year is starting, so every drawing helps me get a bit closer to my goals! Pls reach out to me in the DMs or in the askbox, which is always open.

5 TO 10 SLOTS OPEN DEPENDING ON MY SCHEDULE

Here's the info <3

Artist Name: Anya Jorge or @mysticstarlightduck

Software I use: Clip Studio Art, Krita or Photopea

Close-Up Portrait/Headshot: 10-30 dollars depending on detail

Half-Body Drawing: 35-45 dollars depending on detail

Additional 5-10 dollars for detailed illustrated background

Important: No explicit NSFW requests pls guys (:

Some examples of my art:

Lissandra, Artwork made for @world-of-iridensia,

2. Astra, Artwork made for @illarian-rambling (ps. the first, digital drawing on the post, the second one is by Illarian!)

3. Irene, Artwork made for @writingismydrugs

4. Libitina, Artwork made for @storyteller-kara

5. Character portrait of Arden Ellis from Crash Stardom! that I made a while ago (ClipStudio):

My taglist:

@the-letterbox-archives

@kitty-is-writing

@sleepy-night-child,

@tabswrites

@kaylinalexanderbooks,

@smol-feralgremlin,

@oh-no-another-idea,

@littleladymab,

@little-peril-stories

@thelovelymachinery

@winterandwords,

@eccaiia,

@sarahlizziewrites,

@illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill,

@anoelleart,

@ray-writes-n-shit

@writernopal,

@anyablackwood,

@forthesanityofstorytellers,

@finickyfelix

@i-can-even-burn-salad,

@cakeinthevoid,

@thepeculiarbird,

@clairelsonao3,

@memento-morri-writes,

@starlit-hopes-and-dreams

@wyked-ao3 @sm-writes-chaos and OPEN TAG

[alea-jottun]

On dissonance : saying you story did something vs making your story say something

A problem I have noticed with people defending s2 is that they take at face value what the dialogues say (or what the writers have said in interviews), as if it were a complete justification of what happens in s2. But a story cannot simply say it is something, it has to be this thing. Dialogue that is not backed up by the actual content of a story is worthless.

A few examples for instance :

S2 wants to pretend that it has something to say about forgiveness. But what does it do ? Have alternate Silco say that "the greatest thing we can do in life is find the power to forgive" (one of the worst lines of s2 considering the context. I'm not even going to delve into why he was the worst possible character you could choose to prone forgiveness, but let's put aside his character assassination for now) yet never follow through.

That's just a line, said by a character. For it to have value, it has to be backed by the story. But s2 doesn't do that.

The problem is not that s2 wants to prone forgiveness (that was going to come up anyway, because you have to discuss forgiveness in order to put an end to a cycle of violence). The problem is that there is no well-written arc demonstrating the value of forgiveness in s2 : simply characters who suddenly feel bad for what they have done, and other characters who forgive them just like that. The justifications given for their changes of heart are either incredibly superficial (considering the gravity of the Arcane themes. We're talking about forgiving murder, attacks, etc), or absolute crap. The reason being of course that the writers did not bother writing organic, developped character arcs.

No, Caitlyn saying "I know" or fighting Noxus is not her taking responsibility or atoning for her crimes. No, her seeing Vi or being called Cupcake should not be enough to cause a change of heart this radical (and don't say that Caitlyn was feeling bad and was waiting for an opportunity to betray Ambessa, because that's simply not true. She absolutely supported Ambessa through s2. She just suddenly changed her opinion on Ambessa because the writers decided it).

Same goes for instance for the Timebomb subplot (which I have unfortunately seen heralded as another example of how s2 preaches forgiveness) : Ekko goes to an alternate reality and falls in love with an alternate version of a girl who murdered his friends and cursed Zaun, but in his reality Jinx is suddenly sad about what she did to the Council, so boom ! Forgiven with no proper redemption arc, and now Ekko tries to convince her that she can better herself. Even though throughout Arcane Jinx didn't give a damn about Ekko or the Firelights she killed. And no, fighting for Piltover and a fake sacrifice at the end do not count as redemption.

At this point, the writers really feel like a character being sad is equivalent to an entire redemption arc. But forgiveness has to be earned, and it never is in s2.

Another example of constant dissonance which I have evoked in another post, but also fits here :

Caitlyn saying to Jinx "no amount of good deeds can undo our crimes...." .... while the entirety of s2 does just that for several characters, including her and Jinx, ironically.

Again, that's just one line, said by a character at the end of a 9 episodes series. But that's not what s2 says in practice. The reality of s2 is that it keeps trying to downplay Jinx's past actions, it keeps trying to undo her crimes : she does whatever she wants and is seen as a symbol in Zaun, even though she literally prevented the Council from declaring Zaun independant. There is no problem to her presence in Viktor's commune, despite that fact that she killed him, and his dream, and again, cursed Zaun when it was about to be freed. She can literally talk to Viktor without the topic ever being properly adressed.  And then the writers remember that she is a bit more than a troublemaker, so in the last episodes you get half-baked excuses and a tentative to end herself to cause drama (which is incredibly insensitive, but that's not the point of this post).

Same for Caitlyn : despite being the one saying "no amount of good deeds can undo our crimes....", she has one of the happiest ending of s2, without ever taking responsibility for her actions, or going through redemption. She ends up with an even better social position, a girlfriend she mistreated, a victory for Piltover, and never any real punishment or coherent negative consequences of her actions. So yes, her crimes are pretty much undo-ed... and she didn't even do any real good deed.

The dialogue says something, but the whole series contradicts it.

And finally, you have lines that are absolute crap (in the context of s2) and that pretend that s2 was a completely different show : see the "trying to get rid of your imperfections" line (Viktor's so-called quest for perfection doesn't exist apart from a few lines of dialogues, it is never a proper plot point in the show itself). See the "If he had found the letter it would all have been different" line (not even going to go into details with this one because there is so much wrong with it, it's impressive at this point). Or Jayce's "All I want is my partner back" when Jayce is not shown caring about Viktor after he goes back to Zaun (and no, hallucinating him once in the fire does not count. Also it does not help that neither Jayce nor Viktor have much screen time) and then tries to kill him. So what does s2 do ? Have a cheap thirty second explanation in the last episode, introduce the worst "plot twist" of the series, and pretend it did the job.

Add that to the terrible interview of the writer who said that they made the story as "economical" as possible (they genuinely thought that if they implied something once, then they never had to mention it again) when a good story is supposed to be the complete opposite : efficient (say as much as you possibly can).

S2 is all filler no substance. I know we're joking about the people defending it with the "micro-expressions" argument, but that's understandable : that's all there is in s2 : micro-potentials of what could have been a great series, drowned in an ocean of incompetence. 

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ “DON’T YOU WANT A FAMILY WITH ME?”

୨ৎ pairing: husband!junho x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: major angst with no fluff

୨ৎ summary: 5 months into marriage you thought it was time to bring up kids and how big of a family you both wanted but.. things didn’t seem to work out when you brought it up to him and your world slowly started to crumble.

୨ৎ from myeong: hello!! here we are! my first ever angst fic and I hope you can enjoy it!! I feel as if I’m the best at this (since I’ve practiced writing angst so much in my notes app lol) let’s see how it turns out! x

staring at the ticking clock for what had seemed like hours now eyes burning from how long you went without blinking, a sigh left your glossed over lips holding onto the small pair of shoes you came across after leaving work one night. passing by a cute baby shop that held just about everything from clothing items to toys and strollers, your body filled up with this excitement that couldn’t be explained. it had finally been time to talk about a family with junho and the nerves only worsened as each minute went by. of course he wasn’t home yet junho was late almost every night. work was slowly getting to him turning him into a man that you weren’t too familiar with which only hurt more. he’d come home and rant about needing to find something that he just wouldn’t tell you and you never asked him what it was. were you scared to ask him?

“junho..” his name slipped from your lips the second the door opened and you stood from your seat on the couch. his eyes that you adored so much widened seeing the small pair of shoes that you held onto getting all the wrong ideas. awkwardly laughing and shaking your head, “oh.. these? no not at all. I picked them up at the baby shop nearby after work and.. well, just thought they were the cutest little things I’ve ever seen. I thought that maybe one day our little one could wear them.. what do you think?” all the fears that flooded your mind came back that moment seeing the look on his face it almost made you sick to your stomach. “my love, you already know what my answers going to be, hm? work is just too much for me right now. I think we’ll have to wait just a bit longer.” the large and warm hands that made you feel the safest and most comfortable gently grabbed ahold of your own and pulled you closer to him but you didn’t budge. feet staying in place and eyes staring at the floor beneath you it was hard to form words after hearing such an excuse. forcing him would make you feel like the most piece of shit wife in the universe but the both of you weren’t getting any younger and it had always been a dream of yours to have a child early so you could slowly grow with the child and be close with them but junho was stopping you and it was only making things worse in the marriage. many would say to enjoy marriage and wait for kids but you knew that junho would be the most loving, caring, and supportive father in the world. did you sound selfish for wanting to see it so badly? “how long do we have to wait..?”

it was his turn to sigh especially since he pulled you towards him again and you stayed put in the same place you were in when he walked through the door. “just a few more months, yeah? maybe one more year. give me another year and I can finally give you what you want.” a year..? did this man really just say give him a year? slowly looking up from the floor to look at him, a tear rolled down your cheek. why weren’t you able to understand this? it wasn’t rocket science junho was so involved in his work and you had knew that from the beginning but what you weren’t expecting is it to get in the way of the marriage and the topic of wanting kids with him. “don’t you want a family with me?” what a dumb question to ask but it was still asked as a few more tears rolled down your wet and warm cheeks.

“what? of course I want a family with you. why would you ask such a thing? I married you for a reason didn’t I? I love you. I love you so much and you’re so precious to me that’s why I need you to wait just a bit longer.” junho watched the tears roll down your cheeks in pure agony. not being able to communicate with you about his job killed him every day in ways that he didn’t want. as he met up with gihun and spoke about plans he would find himself zoning out thinking about you and how happy he was now being married to you. how much he wanted a child with you and who would that child look more like? his thoughts were clear from the start that he wanted, needed, and adored you. having a family is at the top of his list and he just doesn’t understand why his life had to turn out this way. hiding so many secrets from his precious wife and not knowing if you were safe or not with him during these months of needing to find his brother and the island.

allowing him to pull you into his broad chest a few sobs left you while his arms wrapped around your waist keeping you close to him even when you your best to pull away from him. “let me go junho.” voice stern even if it was weak from the crying you’d done. junho shook his head his grip around you only tightening feeling like the worst husband in the world watching you suffer. “I can make this better. please trust me? we can have a baby soon, alright? I just need a month—maybe two. I hate seeing you like this. you know how important my work is sweetheart.” work. it never failed for him to bring up work even after seeing you cry and feel so worthless like this. using the last bit of strength you had left and pushing away from him reaching to pick up the small pair of shoes and walk past him into your shared bedroom. “if work is that important then you should’ve never married me junho and I mean it! all you do is talk about work and how much it stresses you out but you won’t quit! I’ve told you countless times before to quit and find something more family oriented but you won’t. you’re home late every single night. I hear the phone calls you pick up during the early hours of the morning when you’re supposed to be sleeping. junho I can’t take any more of this. I love you because you’re my husband but I absolutely despise your work.”

junho was left alone in front of the bedroom door after hearing everything you had to say about how you truly felt about him and his work. he moved towards the wall and slid down it letting his hands run through his styled hair messing it up and rubbing the gel off. he had to make things right somehow and someway with you while still trying to find his brother. how? how was he going to do such a thing because at the end of the day he was keeping the most secrets from you, his innocent and loving wife that he absolutely adored. it felt so wrong but not at all wrong at the same time which had been the weirdest feeling for him. you or his job and brother? what kind of question was that? there was no way he could decide so easily without sounding like a heartless prick but.. it was time for him to decide.

[dianawinchester03]

Don’t Drop The Ball, Go For The Goal!

Series Masterlist

Summary: Y/N and Sam were just trying to make the time pass as juniors in highschool. The younger of the two (y/n) has been busting her ass to get on the good side of the head cheerleader all while crushing on one of the hottest guys in school. While she thought he didn’t even notice her, since she was at the bottom of the food chain in her squad, she didn’t realize exactly how wrong she was when it came to that.

BASED ON:

The Old Testament Series.

Genesis Primis: A Supernatural Rewrite (Dean Winchester x Reader) by @dianawinchester03

____________________________________________

Third Person POV

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

•May 2000

The school year was coming to an end in less than a month. Since F/N and John allowed Sam and Y/N to finish their last two years of highschool at Sioux Falls High, it hasn’t really been an easy ride for them. Sam had been an easy target for a certain group in the school at the beginning of the year, but since Y/N joined the cheer squad last winter, they had eased up when it came to their ‘friendly banter’ towards the younger Winchester.

Currently, Sam sat across from Y/N, poking at his lunch meat once more while she demolished hers. “You know, it’s not half bad” The cheerleader told him with a mouth full of food. “It’s school meat, Y/N/N” Sam muttered, pushing the meat around with his fork, making a face. “Sammy, you act like you’ve never been to school” She teased and rolled her eyes as she took another bite and glanced around the cafeteria.

Some people were sitting at various tables and chatting amongst themselves, most of which were from the football and cheer teams. A group of cheerleaders were currently gossiping about something that Y/N didn’t really bother to listen to, it was mainly the same old topic of what people have been up to that summer, the new girl, and who they’re dating.

Sam noticed that Y/N’s team was shooting them lingering looks, as per usual, you’d swear it was a high-school drama the way these kids were in their cliques.

“Why do they always stare at us?” Sam questioned bluntly as he noticed their stares once again. “Oh, just ignore them” Y/N assured him as she took another bite of her lunch, glancing back at those who were looking over at them. Sam’s eye landed on her pom pom resting neatly besides her lunch, he snickered to himself before picking it up. “What time’s cheer practice today?” He playfully waved it in her face.

Y/N glanced up at the Pom and then over at him before letting out a scoff and grabbing it back from him with an eye roll. “It’s at three, smart ass” She muttered with a smirk on her face, sticking her tongue out. “You waiting up or is Dean gonna come get you?” She asked, raising a brow. It would make more sense if Sam just waited since the safehouse was half hour away, they could all simply make one trip.

Sam nodded and leaned back in his seat, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. “Yeah, I’ll wait. It’s easier and we can all head back together unless we head over to Bobby’s after.” He said as he sat there, just watching her eat. As if on cue, the bell rang, indicating lunch was over.

Y/N groaned, glancing down at her tray of unfinished food. “Damn” She muttered before sighing and shoving the rest of the food into her mouth before grabbing her school bag, and standing up from the table. Sam also got up grabbing his own back and following after her out of the cafeteria.

“I’ve got music with Harris, who do you’ve got?” She asked as she fished out her schedule from her bag, not looking where she was going. “Math. I’ve got Mrs. Kelly” Sam answered, looking over at Y/N and grabbing her upper arm to direct her away from a couple kids walking in their direction.

Just as they left the cafeteria, she remembered she left her leather jacket resting on the table, Y/N quickly made a U-Turn. “Shit! I forgot my jacket, give me one se- FUCK!” She burst back through the door, only to bump straight into a fellow jock who was carrying her jacket back to her. Y/N stumbled back from the impact and managed to keep from falling onto her butt, but she soon realized it was one of the most popular jocks in the school, Alexander.

Sam’s brows skyrocketed, pursing his lips. He had to cover his mouth to stop himself from laughing as Y/N’s books fell out of her bag comically and Alexander fell over straight onto her. “I’m so sorry!” Alexander profusely apologized, trying to explain that he saw she left her jacket and was trying to hurry back to bring it to her.

Y/N felt embarrassed as he tried to apologize, glancing over to Sam and shooting him a death glare the moment her eyes landed on his hand covering his mouth as if he were holding back laughter. He instantly shut his mouth and began helping her with her books, along with a rambling Alexander. “I’m really sorry, y/n. I just saw you left your jacket and I didn’t want you t-“ Alexander rambled on, his cheeks blemishing a bit as he spoke, helping Y/N pick up her books along with Sam.

The younger Winchester had to tuck his lips into his mouth to try not to laugh at the fact that one of the hottest jocks in school was cheesing over his best friend. Y/N had been crushing on him for months and it was painfully obvious how she was trying to play the nonchalant card but failing miserably. “It’s okay, Alexander. Relax” Y/N chuckled as Alexander helped her up to her feet.

“Uh- here” he cleared his throat awkwardly, extending his hand which was occupied with her jacket. “Thank you” she said gratefully, blushing slightly. Sam stood there, with Y/N’s books, watching the two interact. He snickered into his fist as he saw Y/N blushing and Alexander attempting to gather himself from the encounter. “Yeah, you’re welcome” He responded quickly, looking at Y/N with a genuine smile on his face.

He then looked over at Sam, nodding at him in greeting. “Hey, Sam” He greeted the younger Winchester. Sam looked genuinely surprised at the fact that Alexander knew his name, raising a suspicious brow at the jock. “Uh- Hi Alex” Sam waved awkwardly, clearing his throat. Alexander nodded in greeting once more with a small smile before looking back at Y/N, his glance darting down to the ground for a second before returning back up to her face.

“I, uh- should be going to class, don’t wanna be late” He chuckled awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, same here” Y/N replied in slight disappointment. She didn’t get to talk to Alexander often, he was always hanging with his jock friends or doing sports. It was a surprise to have him come up to her in the middle of the hall, let alone bring her jacket back to her.

She was taken back by the common decency, not to mention he was genuinely nice. They’ve barely had any interaction in the past, the few times was when his football buddies Kendall or whatever their names were would be nagging at Sam. Xander would be the one to tell them to cut it out, as the quarterback had a bit of respect around the school. So she was a bit bummed to see him go.

“Well, uh- See you around” Alexander said timidly before quickly shooting Sam a glance once more and giving a small smile before turning and walking away to his next class. “See you around, Xander!” She called out, waving to him. Cringing to herself at the use of the unusual nickname towards Alexander. “Stupid, stupid, stupid” Y/N muttered beratingly to herself once he was out of sight

Sam glanced over at Y/N, noting the way she was panicking. This made him burst out laughing, causing y/n to glare at him. “Xander, hm?” He teased, smirking as he handed her her books. This earned her best friend a swat to the back of the head, “Shut up little Winchester” She scoffed before snatching her books from him. “Hey!” Sam complained, rubbing the back of his head and trying to hold back a chuckle.

“All I’m saying is it’s cute that you have a nickname for him” He teased as they started heading to class. She shot him another harsh glare but it was obvious she was trying to hold back a smile, “Shut up and get to math” She shoved him by his shoulder before ruffling his hair. “See you after school” Sam chuckled as she shoved him, stumbling forward a bit before regaining his balance and looking back at her.

“Y/N!” Sam grumbled and ruffled his hair, he tried to quickly fix it. “Okay, see ya.” He smiled, then turned and walked off to his class. Y/N clutched her books to her chest as she turned on her heels to head up to her music class, her mind still reeling on Alexander.

As she made her way to her class she started thinking about the jock more and more, mainly how sweet he was to bring her her jacket. Once she had made it to her class she quietly sat in the nearest open seat and just sat there, listening to the teacher talk as she still continued thinking about Alexander.

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After school, Sam was sitting in the stands of the field, doing his homework and waiting for Y/N to finish her practice.

On one side of the field, Stella Luther, the cheer captain, was watching Y/N do her routine, and had a look of annoyance on her face which was usually there when she was watching Y/N.

Across the field, Alexander was practicing football, passing the ball around between his team mates. Every few minutes, he would glance over to the field to catch a glimpse of Y/N.

Y/N continued with her routine, twirling and dancing about with the other girls until it came her turn to do her solo part, of course it was perfect like usual, but the whole time she was dancing, she could feel Stella’s eye on her, watching and being nit-picky. It pissed her off, but, she ignored it and continued anyway.

While Y/N was dancing, Alexander glanced over in her direction to see her dance, only to find that their eyes had met for a moment. “Focus, Y/N! We’re not gonna win an NCC with your sloppy ass moves!” Stella’s manicured to perfect nails snapped in front of the young hunter’s face, her tone whiney and high pitched as she chastised her moves.

“I’m trying to, Stella! Quit bitching and let me do it” Y/N snapped, clenching her fists at her side. They always had this sort of banter going on between them, but the captain of the squad was always rude to Y/N for whatever reason. Stella rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, scowling while looking down at Y/N from where she was standing.

“Do it again. If you mess up one more time, you’re benched” She threatened, trying to stare Y/N down. The huntress gritted her teeth, forcefully swallowing her rage towards the blonde down her throat.

Across the field, Alexander nearly missed a catch when he noticed Y/N and Stella were arguing. He’d been crushing on Y/N for a while now but never really built up the nerve to talk to her. He didn’t know why he always felt so drawn to her. She was hot, of course for a girl her age, but simply just the way she smiled towards him while passing in the halls seemed to brighten his day.

What he didn’t know was, she also had eyes for him. He frowned to himself, the football slipping from his grips in the process.

Some of his teammates noticed his shift in mood, following his eyes to a certain cheerleader. When Alexander tossed the ball back, Carter was the first to aim straight at his head. “Earth to Alex, hell-ooo” Carter mocked, making the other guys chuckle.

Alexander quickly dodged, scowled and whipped his head around to Carter, who gave him a smirk. “Shut it, Carter” He grumbled before snatching the ball back from ground and tossed it right back at him. “Man, just ask her out already” Carter chuckled, throwing the ball to another member of the team.

“Nah, I don’t think she’d be interested,” Alexander muttered as he caught the ball, tossing it to another teammate. “Oh right, cause you’re a star football player, and she’s a cheerleader” One of the other jocks, Cole, sarcastically scoffed as he caught the ball from Xander. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head, “Nah, I think she and Sam are a thing”

“Who?” Daniel piped up, catching the ball from Cole. “The nerd in the stand doing his homework? Dude, she’s way too hot for him” Carter snorted, this made Alexander shoot him a harsh glare. “His name’s Sam” he said firmly, earning a scoff from Carter. “Whatevs”

An idea popped in Alexander’s head when he saw Sam sitting in the stands, his head buried in a book. “Guys, take two laps” The quarterback ordered the jocks before jogging over to the stands, discarding the football into the grass. The other jocks groaned and sighed in protest but nonetheless did as they were told.

Sam continued to do his school work while remaining oblivious to the jock that was making his way over to him.

Meanwhile, Y/N was trying to get her moves right as Stella kept shouting instructions and corrections at her. “Keep your hips straight!” Stella yelled from across the field, getting aggravated by Y/N’s mistakes.

Just as Y/N let out a frustrated growl, Alexander finally reached up to Sam, clearing his throat to get his attention. Sam’s eyes had been fixated on his work, he was focused on that one thing, when he was brought out of it by a deep throat clearing. His eyes shot up and he found themselves on the guy that had given Y/N her jacket, a look of confusion on his face. “Uh..yeah?” He asked curiously.

“Hey man, uh..can you help me with something?” Alexander scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and glanced down at the ground for a moment before returning his attention back to Sam. He tilted his head, he had an inkling on what Alex wanted but he didn’t say straight up what was on his mind.

He shut his book after placing his pencil inside and then set it down beside him, offering Alex a seat next to him. “Thanks” He said awkwardly as he sat down in the bleacher beside the younger Winchester, who was opening a bottle of water. He remained silent for a few moments as he sat there, unsure of how to begin, until he finally spoke. “Uh, so, you and Y/N. Man I gotta ask, is anything going on between you two?”

Sam’s eyes damn nearly bulged out of his sockets, choking on the water he was sipping from. Alexander’s eyes widened and he quickly patted the younger Winchester on the back, “Woah-! Dude, are you okay?” He asked, panicking slightly by the reaction. Sam nodded his head frantically while laughing.

Alexander let out a sigh of relief and chuckled along with the boy. “Jesus, man, got me freakin out for a second” He then sat back in his seat and waited for Sam to regain himself. “Dude, y/n/n’s like my sister. Hell, she is my sister” Sam assured him through chuckles.

“Oh thank god” Alexander said with a sigh, running his hand through his hair and chuckling awkwardly. “So you guys are just friends?” Sam noticed the hint of hope in the jock's voice. “Yeah, man. We’re just friends.” Sam confirmed with a small chuckle, slightly grimacing at the thought of someone thinking y/n was his girlfriend, it wasn’t the first and it wouldn’t be the late..

He knew where this conversation with Alex was going, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to hinder his best friend from getting some action. “Oh god, dude you have no idea how much of a relief it is to hear that” Alexander nodded awkwardly before a moment of silence passed between the two. “So, uh. You still willing to help?” He questioned, still trying to maintain his cocky football player persona.

Sam shot him an unimpressed look. Alexander laughed nervously and raised his hands in surrender, dropping the act. “Alright, alright. Point taken.” He sighed, then looked over towards the field to watch the cheer group.

Stella was now shouting at the other girls, correcting their moves, while Y/N was doing her own routine. Sam sighed, “Just tell her you like her leather jacket and tell her you like her bike. She rides it to school sometimes, I’m sure she’d be happy to hear that from you” he offered Alexander a small smile.

“Yeah, that’s a start I guess” The jock chuckled, he glanced over to Y/N who had realized Alexander was talking with Sam. Her nerves were a wreck seeing her crush talking with her best friend, her mind boggling with endless possibilities on what the hell they could be discussing. The math homework by chance?

“Hey, uh, you think we could keep this between us?” He asked suddenly. “Of course, dude” Sam confirmed and nodded firmly, he was never the one to snitch. “Don’t worry, man. Secret’s safe with me” He assured the jock. “Just ask her out and treat her with respect, I don’t wanna see my best friend get her heart broken” He warned the jock with a half-joking tone but he damn well meant it.

“Yeah, of course, of course. Thanks, Sam. I promise, I’ll treat her nice” Alexander stated sincerely as he put his hand over his heart jokingly like he was swearing an oath. He then extended his fist to the younger Winchester, “No problem, Alex” Sam returned the fist bump, smiling as the jock nodded before standing up to head over to the field. He could feel Y/N’s eyes on him which was sending his head into a tailspin.

Sam snickered under his breath and watched Alex walk out onto the field to approach the now distracted Y/N.

The sound of a familiar horn honking made Sam’s head snap to the other side, “Sammy! Y/N/N!” Dean’s voice came from the front of the field, the Impala in mint condition parked as he called out to them.

Hearing Dean's voice brought a bright smile to Y/N’s face, her heart skipping a beat as she whipped her head around to look for him, finally spotting the familiar car and waving.

Sam packed up his stuff before heading down the stands and towards the Impala, he tossed his stuff in the passenger seat as Dean hopped out, fixing his disheavled shirt from his hook up he had just before he came over to pick them up. His gaze narrowed in Y/N’s direction. She was talking with Alex, subconsciously twirling her hair as he spoke to her. The jock rubbing the back of his neck.

The elder Winchester crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the driver's side door to the Impala. “Hmm” Dean grumbled, a hint of annoyance edged in his voice as he watched the interaction between the two. His eyes narrowed as he saw the jock smile at her and say something that made her laugh.

Sam glanced at Dean and chuckled at his brother’s expression. Seeing Y/N chatting away with Alex seemed to have irritated him. Dean tore his eyes away from the two, “Who’s the jock?” He asked his younger brother nonchalantly, pointing to the two with his thumb.

“That,” Sam started, leaning against the roof of the impala, “is Alexander, quarterback of the football team.” He looked up to his brother, a small smirk plastered on his face. “Hm” Dean grunted, his arms still crossed over his chest, looking at Alex with a glare. “Careful before he steals your girl, Sammy”

“Dude. Seriously. Quit it.” Sam glared daggers at his older brother who was snickering, his eyes still trained on the quarterback and cheerleader. He immediately broke contact, turning to his younger brother when he noticed Alex write something on a sticker note from Y/N’s bag before handing it to her.

The younger girl now headed back to the Impala. “Anyways, whaddya want for dinner?” Sam rolled his eyes at his brother’s obvious annoyance and pushed himself off the Impala. “I was thinking hotdogs,” He answered, watching Y/N cross the field and jog up to them.

“Hotdogs it is” Dean muttered, as he stood up straight and gave Sam a small grin. He was interrupted by Y/N stopping in front of them. “Hey charming!” She greeted the older Winchester, smiling warmly. “Hey princess” Dean said with a smirk, the annoyance in his voice from before completely evaporating. He pulled her into a quick hug then ruffled her hair.

She returned the hug warmly, her heart skipping a beat as she pulled away. Dean opened the backseat door for her, allowing her to toss her back in. “Heads up, I’m not cooking tonight. Order in, I’ve got a date” She said suggestively, waving the note in her hand.

“With Mr. Quarterback over there?” Dean asked, turning to look over the field again. He clenched his jaw tightly, an eyebrow raised as he saw Alexander watching Y/N intently. “Hey, asshat” She scoffed, now smacking the elder Winchester at the back of his head. “You’re not scaring away this one, I actually like him” She pointed a firm finger at him.

“Ow! Dammit!” He cursed, rubbing the spot on the back of his head that she smacked. “Absolutely not, our dads left me in charge and I’m not gonna allow you t-“

“Allow me?” She cut him off, crossing her arms over her chest. “Last time I checked, Winchester, you’re not my father and I’m the one with that picture of you wearing makeup when you were 13” she narrowed her eyes at him. “Low blow, L/N, low blow” He grumbled, crossing his arms and glaring down at the younger girl.

She only smirked in return before turning to Sam. “You’re on my side, right Sammy?” She tilted her head. “I’m not getting involved in this” Sam said quickly, raising his hands up in surrender, avoiding eye contact and looking anywhere else but at them. He knew the expression on her face, he could not piss her off right now. Her gaze snapped back to Dean.

“Dean” She grumbled, daring him to challenge her but there was a bit of plea in her tone. Dean looked down at her, contemplating whether he was willing to get his ass kicked by her if he squealed or by F/N if he found out. He went with the latter and sighed in defeat, “Alright, alright. I’ll cover for you” He put his hands up in surrender.

Sam let out a breath, thankful that Dean wasn’t going to put up a fight anymore. “However” Dean went on, “He better treat you right or I will personally kick his sorry ass” Y/N rolled her eyes, she really didn’t think Dean was going to make this easy on her.

“I can do that myself but I appreciate it” She grinned triumphantly, reaching up to pat his head before hopping into the backseat. Dean huffed as she patted his head, his annoyance showing on his face. “Brat” He muttered, but he chuckled as he closed the door on the younger girl. “We’re going back to Bobby’s house” He announced as he hopped in and started the ignition.

“Dude, what the hell were you and Xander talking about?” Y/N asked Sam eagerly about the conversation he held with Alexander as Dean put the car in drive. “Homework.”

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Author's Note: HIIIII, I know this is random but I’ve always wanted to share this. I have been thinking for a while to dive more into Y/N and Xander’s relationship and how it happened. Since he was her first relationship and her first everything (minus kiss) I thought it’d be cool to show how these highschool sweethearts met🥰

Let me know what you think and if you’d like me to do a part two on their date, how this progressed, how it ended and all that jazz.

PS: while looking for a gif of Drew Van Acker (Xander’s face claim) for my tumblr post, I was like “DAMN Y/N, you really got a type gurl” 💀💀💀

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