#fuck your parents. how does anyone else not realize this

[suzukiblu]

Man, does Clark panic adopting not count as kon-napping(+ match-napping)?

Oh well, I suppose I won't request anything for WIP Wednesday. Have fun with everyone's prompts. :]

-MBT

I mean it definitely does imo, but I ruled out a bunch of WIP options that technically count as Kon-napping for one reason or another, 'cuz keeping the list to five options is just way easier for me. Keeping open five documents to jump around is just way kinder on the ol' laptop, y'know? Though for you, fren, since you have been an excellent source of inspo/motivation in the past, I will totally give you some panic-adoption I already had written and just hadn't posted yet, lol. 💛

(( chrono || non-chrono ))

“I didn’t call ahead, so–oh, damn, how did I forget to call, it’s practically lunchtime,” Superman mutters under his own breath. Match stares blankly at him. So does Thirteen, but Match can’t even bring himself to be irritated about it, because it’s the only possible logical reaction to be having right now. Or just ever, possibly, in regards to Superman. 

“Uh,” Thirteen says, shifting uncomfortably in the air and still half-behind Match, annoyingly but unsurprisingly. “Like, we could just . . . do this some other time, maybe, we don’t need to, y’know . . . bug ‘em or whatever. Like, we don’t need to do, uh . . . whatever you’re doing all at once.” 

Superman once again gets that strange look that Match would call “pained” on anyone else’s face, then just–sighs, and shakes his head. 

“I should’ve done it already,” Superman says, his voice just barely tight. “For both of you.” 

“I mean–we literally don’t even know what you are doing, man,” Thirteen says, looking frustrated and uncertain. “Like, you said you didn’t want us to go back to Cadmus or the Agenda but like, then you said we should go home even though we were already at the Fortress, and then you brought us all the way out here to your–to, uh–you know, and–” 

“To my parents’ house,” Superman says. 

. . . Match actually should just take Thirteen and go to Cadmus right now. Superman is clearly an irresponsible idiot of an owner, if he’s going to keep telling him these things. 

Really, the only thing Superman’s done so far as his owner is steal him and also dress him up in a little outfit, from a certain point of view, Match realizes, and tries not to grimace at the thought of being, effectively, another damn dog. 

Which–he is that, more or less. Obviously. He’s–a possession. A weapon. A thing. Not–

Just–the same treatment as the dog, short of getting his damn ears scratched. 

It’s . . . 

Are you fucking STUPID? he wants to ask instead of finishing that thought, but that wouldn’t be any smarter–or safer–to do. 

“Uh,” Thirteen says, and swallows uncomfortably. “Uh–yeah. That.”

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼 (yes I did twice)

YEAH! More BuddieShannon! 129 sentences:

---

“Eddie, come on. I thought we were trying to be better about talking through our crap.”

“This isn’t our crap, though, Shannon!” He protests. “My stupid sexuality crisis is my crap!”

Shannon’s eyes widen. It takes his brain a moment to realize what his traitorous mouth has said. Fuck. 

“Oh,” Shannon replies. “So it’s not, like… A kink thing?”

Somehow, that question serves to make this even more embarrassing. 

“What? God! No!”

“O-okay,” Shannon stammers. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I just didn’t know this about you.”

Eddie sighs, deflating. 

“Yeah… Neither did I.”

Shannon scooches a little closer to him. She moves her hand from his wrist to his shoulder. 

“Eddie, there’s nothing wrong with it,” she says. “You know that, right? It’s okay to be attracted to him.”

Something stirs in Eddie at this. Like a wilting plant dragging itself towards a light source. But he shakes that away. 

“That’s not true,” he replies. 

“Why isn’t it true?” Shannon asks. “You’ve never cared about that kind of thing before.”

“For other people,” Eddie agrees. “But I’m not… That’s not how it’s supposed to be for me. I’ve never loved anyone but you. I’ve never wanted anyone but you.”

Her lips part a little. 

“You love him?” She asks. 

He freezes again. Fuck. He needs to stop talking. 

“Of course you do,” she says. “I mean, how could you not?” 

Right. Because she’s into him, too. Jesus Christ. What a pair they make. 

“I love you, Shannon,” Eddie replies. Firm. Unflinching. Because no matter what else is going on in his brain, and in his horrible heart, that is still true. 

“I don’t…” She frowns, struggling to choose her next words. “Eddie, one doesn’t make the other not true.”

He furrows his eyebrows. “But isn’t that fucked up? That’s wrong. That’s… It’s like emotional infidelity.” 

“It’s not,” Shannon replies. “We’re separated.”

“Well, that wasn’t my choice.”

She sighs. 

Right. Probably not a great point to focus on right now. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. 

“Even if we weren’t, Eddie… It’s not bad,” Shannon says. “I mean, there would still be nothing wrong with you.”

“How can you possibly say that?” Eddie asks. 

Shannon bites her lip for a moment. 

“Eddie, are you upset that you’re attracted to a man or in love with two people at the same time?” 

“Both!” He bursts. “Those are both things I am not supposed to be.”

She sighs again. He wishes she’d stop sighing.

 “According to who?”

Eddie’s mouth snaps shut. He doesn’t know how to answer that question. According to who indeed? 

“Your parents,” Shannon says. “The church they made you go to?”

The one they had to get married in.

Eddie nods sheepishly. “Yeah. I guess that’s it.”

“And if Chris has this same question about himself in fifteen years? What will you say?” 

“Don’t go there, Shannon.” Eddie feels a rise of frustration in his chest. “You know what I’d say.”

“Yeah, I do,” she agrees. “Say it for me anyway, Eddie.”

Eddie groans. “I obviously don’t care who, if anyone, our children fall in love with one day, Shannon. As long as they’re happy and safe, I don’t care.”

“But that doesn’t apply to you?” Shannon asks. 

“Shannon…” Eddie complains.

“No, Eddie, come on,” she presses. “Why do Chris and-and this baby get the freedom of your values, but you get the restriction of your father’s? That’s ridiculous. You know it’s not bad or wrong. You know that.”

He knows. He does know. He… He just can’t.

“They get to be whoever they want, Shannon.” Eddie tells her.

“And you don’t?” 

No! No. Doesn’t she see that? He has never got to be anyone at all. What he wants doesn’t even exist. He’s never been able to explore that. He is no more than this. This automaton on a set path. He doesn’t know how to be anyone else. 

“No,” he replies. “I don’t.”

[capricornsister]

All these people around me still seemingly have their spirit and fully engage in the distractions of life and my only thought is "have fun." It's such a relief to let go of hope in a way + the ever-constant narrative of excitement for the journey ahead. Another lie to believe in. One more trapping of humanity...

[non-un-topo]

The irony of trying to start a "pain journal" but being too fatigued and having too much brain fog from said pain to start one

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 | angus tully x reader (series finale)

read 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 and 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 first!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | angus has been waiting to see you again, but the more feelings get involved, the more complicated your affair becomes.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 7k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), mega angst but also fluff too, infidelity, boring old people parties, reader is still emotionally constipated and angus still has a breeding kink, but that's honestly it it's just a bunch of emotions so strap in folks!

Angus was pretty sure he broke some kind of record, with how quickly he ran back to his room after talking to you on the payphone.

He was sure that was exactly what you were picturing him doing— he’d made it pretty clear what he’d do once you hung up, and you’d made it pretty difficult to do anything else with the way you were talking.  You’d been winding him up on purpose, of course; so yes, you could easily imagine him making a mad dash to his room and slamming the door— if you really ever thought about him outside of those phone calls.

That was the thing Angus couldn’t figure out about you.  Well, there were probably a lot of other things than that, but it was the quandary he spent the most time pondering: does she think about me?

Whenever he mustered the courage to ask you something to that effect, you would either change the subject or give a half-answer.  Something about how you had a dream about him the other night or how your parents asked about him— never what he was really asking.

But, frankly, at that moment as he shut his dorm room door and jumped into bed, whether or not you thought about him much was not as pertinent an issue.  Right then, all he could think about was getting his hand around his raging boner; his mind was just playing everything you’d said to him over the phone on repeat.

I’m touching myself right now, you’d whispered in a sultry voice, I’m so wet, Angus— fuck, I’m so wet…

He’d never had to work so hard to keep a straight face on the phone before… he figured if anyone was really looking, they’d notice how red he was turning or how he kept shifting uncomfortably.  And he told you just as much, which of course only encouraged you.  Don’t want them to know, huh? you’d taunted. Don’t want the other boys to find out you’re listening to me get off?

And no, he didn’t— you were such a precious thing, the boys here didn’t even deserve to imagine you— but when you offered to stop if it was too distracting, he only found himself shakily begging for more.

As he quickly opened his khaki pants and gripping his cock, he hissed through his teeth; his ego could barely take all you’d said about that cock, about how thick and ‘perfect’ (you used that exact word, perfect, and he thought he might float) it was, about how you wished you could come around it right then instead of your fingers.

“It’s all yours,” he mumbled to himself, under his breath, not even really noticing he was saying it aloud.  “You want it, baby?  It’s all fucking yours.”

He groaned as he stroked himself, the precum that had been leaking from his tip for a while making everything even easier.  Shutting his eyes tight, he pictured you, like he always did: all of you, everything, anything he could remember.

You ever think about me? you’d asked him over the phone— and he’d blurted out his always before he even realized you meant while he was getting off.  It was still true, but more specific than necessary.  He craved to hear you say it: I think about you too.  But he didn’t ask, and you just went back to moaning while you rubbed your clit— which, apparently, was already swollen and throbbing— and, well, he wasn’t strong enough to interrupt that.

“Fuck,” he grunted, deep in the back of his throat, finally letting his pace pick up until his hand was a blur: after all that anticipation and all that waiting, there was no use trying to hold back now.  It wasn’t like you were here to worry about him coming too fast, even though you’d still maintained you found it endearing when it happened.

He repeated your voice in his head, the moment that had made him worry he would blow his load in his trousers before he could even get off the phone and back to his room: I’m gonna come for you, you’d warned him in the most beautiful moaning voice, Angus— I want you so bad, oh god— I’m gonna come for you, fuck…

His lip caught between his teeth, his hips rocked up into his own palm.  “Yes, fuck, baby,” he panted, “I— fuck!”

He tried to conjure in his mind how it had felt to come inside you, but he knew even his vivid imagination could never really capture the feeling; nothing could even come close.  Still, remembering it and letting himself indulge in his strangest fantasies for just a moment sent him over the edge.  His face flushed suddenly as he came in long, heavy pulses, the back of his free hand falling over his open mouth yet doing little to suppress his moans.

It was intense— it was certainly better than his orgasms usually were when brought on by himself— but it only satisfied him for a moment.  The moment he was finished, with a deep breath in and his hips relaxing back down onto the mattress, he wanted more— he wanted you.

His heavy eyes glanced to the side, trying to remember what it felt like to lie next to you.  He’d never felt lonely after jerking off before he met you; now getting off seemed to bring a new wave of heartbreak each time.

When he shook off the thought and looked down at himself, he frowned as he realized he’d ruined his own shirt doing that— not that he could fully bring himself to regret it.

No, his regrets only really began a few weeks later, when the nagging loneliness in the back of his mind finally got the better of him.

It was the middle of the night when he wrote it, after he woke up from a dream of you that he just couldn’t shake from his mind.  After checking that his roommate was fast asleep, Angus carefully slipped out of bed and tip-toed to the desk, and pulling out a box of cards and envelopes from one of the drawers.  (He thought he’d never use them when his mom sent them with him at the beginning of the year, but a lot had changed since then.)

Something about the ungodly hour made him more honest— or maybe just more shameless.  He wrote a frantic ramble, everything he’d wanted to say to you that he’d never had the courage to blurt out over the phone; all the feelings he’d felt since that incredible night in the backseat of your car, which he’d assumed would fade… which he’d tried to convince himself would fade.

Unfortunately, even the adrenaline of writing down the thoughts of you he’d been poring over for over a month wasn’t enough to overpower exhaustion: he awoke the next morning slumped over the desk, the pen still uncapped and fallen a few inches from his hand, the letter left folded open.

He awoke to the sound of someone’s door shutting down the hall, specifically; jumping and blinking quickly, he looked at the window— it was morning, though still quite early— and then at his roommate who was, thank god, still asleep.

Angus looked back at the letter in front of him, only making out a few words in his brief glance, before his cheeks began to heat up and he quickly folded it shut.  As more footsteps moved through the hall, the boy in the bed nearby stirred and grumbled to himself, and Angus quickly snatched up the letter and shoved it in his book bag before he was caught red-handed.

Ironically, that little commotion was what actually got the other boy’s attention.  “What are you doing at the desk?” he asked groggily, rubbing one of his eyes with the back of his palm.

“Oh, I, uh— I had to do some late night cramming,” Angus explained nervously, “that big Geography test coming up and all…”

The half-awake boy seemed to notice for a moment that the story didn’t really make sense, on account of the empty desk, but he simply shrugged and tossed his blanket aside to get up as well.

For the rest of the day, Angus couldn’t think straight— and not just because of his mediocre rest and achy back from the absolutely terrible sleep posture he’d had.  He couldn’t stop thinking about the letter, even if he honestly couldn’t remember for certain everything he’d said… he couldn’t stop wondering if he should send it to you.  He almost didn’t want to read it again first— he wanted you to read it in its most authentic state, he wanted to mail it before he chickened out just like he had when you said you two could just stay casual.  Even if it made his heart race and his palms especially clammy, Angus decided in the middle of that goddamned Geography test that he was going to mail that letter tonight after dinner: he was finally just going to man up and tell you.

Of course, something went horribly wrong along the way: he made a fatal mistake.  Looking back on it, he couldn’t tell for certain if his mistake was falling for you in the first place, or writing the infamous letter, or shoulder-checking Kountze without holding on tight enough to his bag.

The argument that happened beforehand was petty and forgettable, even if it gathered a small crowd of Kountze’s friends, but it ended with Angus trying to walk away a tad… aggressively, and with Kountze grabbing him by the strap of his bag which not only knocked Angus off-balance but spilled the contents onto the floor of the dorm’s shared room.

Everyone saw the books and papers hit the ground; everyone saw the off-white cardstock land right on top.  Angus reached for the letter quickly, but Kountze beat him there, and held it back with a snicker.

“Well, well,” Kountze tutted proudly, “what’s this?”

“H-hey, don’t read that,” Angus warned, hoping the seriousness of his tone would somehow affect the other boy— but, obviously, it did not.  Kountze started to open it and Angus instantly made a dive for it, only to be stopped by three other students who apparently were curious as well about the letter.  “Don’t fucking read that!” Angus demanded.

“Oh god, it’s to a girl!” he realized.  “Do you have a girlfriend, Tully?”

“I swear to god, Kountze, if you fucking read that—”

“I miss you,” Kountze began to read aloud as Angus thrashed around to try to stop him, “I miss you so much I don’t even know what to say.”

The boys holding Angus back were enraptured as Kountze read the letter; “Do you guys pay this much attention in class?” he mocked them, though they were ignoring him completely as they waited for the other boy to keep reading.

“I feel like I can’t breathe without you— aw, Tully, you’re a poet,” Kountze mocked with a smile.  Angus’ heart raced as he remembered what part of the letter came next.  “Not a day goes by where I don’t think about you and your smile— Jesus, this is some really sappy shit— or what it’s like talking with you for hours, or how it feels—”

He stopped, and Angus froze, and after a moment the group of boys started demanding the conclusion.  “What— what does it say?!” “Read it, Kountze!”

“How it feels to be inside you,” Kountze continued with wide eyes, staring at Angus’ bright red face as the other boys began to react loudly.

Angus renewed his struggle against the kids holding him back, but even though he was taller than them, he was severely outnumbered.  “Stop— that’s personal!” Angus demanded to no avail.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to my hand after having you,” Kountze continued with a laugh.  “From what I hear from your roommate, Tully, your hand is treating you just fine.”

“Shut up,” Angus hissed, but his words had lost their bite as his humiliation grew.

“I should’ve told you before I left—” he started, but finally Angus found some new strength within himself to shake off the boys holding him back: he dove at Kountze and took him down, scrambling to snatch the card away.  He was going to be satisfied with just that, but of course Kountze still had to open his mouth, even when Angus had him pinned.  “Jesus, Tully,” he scoffed, “how ugly is this chick that you got her to sleep with you?”

Angus brought a fist swiftly down to Kountze’s nose, who groaned in pain and held his face as Angus got up and ran away.  The other boys let him pass, thankfully, and Angus wasted no time getting to his room and slamming the door behind him.

Defiantly wiping a tear from his cheek, Angus took a quick look at the letter— wrinkled, stained and scuffed from the fight with Kountze— and crumpled it up, tossing it into his wastebasket before throwing himself onto his bed and hiding his head under the pillow.

He was stupid to even write it, let alone consider sending it; it was no use, you obviously didn’t feel the same way about him that he did about you.  You were the one who said it should just be what it was— a fling.  But Angus felt like he’d been flung directly into hell, the way it tore into his chest to imagine you didn’t really want him.

Even if he never read the letter again that day, he remembered how it ended— and it was the part he couldn’t get out of his mind even when he wanted more than anything to forget it all.

Is this what love feels like?

//

It reminded you a lot of that dinner over Christmas break, except somehow, it seemed like he was staring at you even more.  Shouldn’t he have gotten that out of his system a bit by now?

But then again, maybe you should’ve been more used to it, since it had been over an hour of picking away at this quail dinner, and he’d barely taken his eyes off of you.  Something about him looked different; it was basically impossible that he could’ve visibly aged in just a couple months, and yet he seemed like he was carrying just a bit more age on those thin shoulders.  Maybe it was just the slight five-o-clock shadow over his jaw— but, no, there was a different look in his eyes, too—

Realizing you were, in fact, staring back at him, you quickly snapped your gaze back down to your plate.

You’d been wanting a chance to talk to him before this dinner, to hopefully prevent exactly this issue, but once the dinner ended you found yourself avoiding him.  Of course you weren’t ready to talk to him— of course you had a million thoughts in your head and half of them didn’t even make sense.

For once, you actually tried to talk to all of your parents’ snooty friends, repeating the same answers over and over about how you were going to graduate school in the fall and how you were looking forward to your family’s Paris trip in the summer and all that jazz.  It was worth it to keep Angus off your back for a moment, even if you could still feel his eyes boring into said back from time to time.

Midway through a mind-numbingly boring conversation (if something so one-sided could be called a conversation) with the Gordons about renovations they’d done on their summer house, you glanced around the room over your shoulder and noticed that Angus was apparently absent.  His parents were still there, sitting on a couch— that is, his mom and stepdad— so he couldn’t be far, but out of view he was far enough.  Figuring he’d gone to the kitchen or the restroom, you figured it was the perfect time to disappear into the downstairs bedroom and, hopefully, hide out for the rest of the party.  Excusing yourself quickly, you made a polite dash for the other end of the room.

And yet, somehow, he appeared out of thin air; as you turned down the hallway, only a dim lamp on an antique credenza lighting your way, you heard Angus’ hushed voice behind you.  He laid his hand on your shoulder, and the moment you turned to face him, he was on you— his weight pressed you into the wall and you felt trapped in a way that was annoyingly pleasant.

“God, I missed you,” he breathed, kissing you hard and sudden; you whimpered a little, nearly melting into it, before you pushed him back at his shoulders.

“A-Angus, wait,” you sighed.  “You, um… you didn’t call for a while.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, “um, I’m sorry— I just got busy with midterms and stuff— but I really wanted to!”

He moved like he was about to kiss you again, but you kept your hand on his chest to keep him away.  “I wanted to tell you…” you trailed off.

“Tell me what?”

“You remember Brian Stevenson?” 

“Oh— um, yeah, I guess so,” Angus frowned a little, clearly confused by what seemed like a non sequitur.  “I used to go over to his house when I was little, although it was just to play with his little brother, but… yeah, I remember him.”

“I’ve been sorta, y’know… going with him,” you explained, hesitantly meeting Angus’ gaze just in time to see the most terrible sadness cover his face.

“O-oh,” he choked out, quickly stepping back from you and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah…” you mumbled, twisting your loafer-clad foot on the carpet nervously.  “It’s just, you know, he asked me out a couple weeks ago, and ever since then—”

“So is he, like, your boyfriend?” Angus pressed.  You nodded.  He looked away.  “Right— that’s… cool.  That’s cool.”

You bit your lip slightly, hating that he wouldn’t look at you all of a sudden.  “Angus, it’s just that, you know, we said—”

“Right,” he interrupted sharply.  “Right, I remember what we said— what you said, that we weren’t— you know.  That it wasn’t anything.”

“I didn’t say that—” you tried to correct him.

“You said you were mine,” he added suddenly, making your eyes widen.  “Did you even mean that?”

“I— Angus, come on,” you laughed nervously.  “That’s… that’s just something people say…”

He scoffed, and looked to the side as he pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek; contempt looked sort of good on him, you thought, except that it was directed at you.  He was trying to hide it, but his eyes were watering.

“I’m sorry,” you began but he cut you off right away.

“No, don’t do that,” he shook his head quickly, crossing his arms and staring down at the floor.  “Don’t lie to me anymore.”

“No— I really am,” you tried to assure.

“Hey, it’s fine,” he insisted sharply.  “It’s— you know, it is what it is.  It was just one of those things.”

“If it’s fine, then look at me,” you pleaded.  He didn’t.  And for a long moment, the two of you stood there, still and silent.

“It’s fine,” he repeated softly, turning on his heel.

“Angus, wait,” you hissed, not wanting to raise your voice with all the guests not too far away— of course, it was fruitless, and he briskly blended back in with the crowd.

Sighing, you dropped your head into your hands.  That wasn’t how you ever wanted this to go, you never wanted to hurt him; honestly, you’d assumed he’d be irritated, but not… sad.  Not devastated.  Of course he would prefer to be getting laid, but you figured he wouldn’t have too much trouble finding some other girl to screw around with— sometimes, you’d wondered if he already had.

It was supposed to be easy, it was supposed to be casual, it was supposed to be fun.  You couldn’t think of anything you’d ever done, or anything you’d ever felt, that was less fun than this.

//

It made a strange sort of sense that the next time you saw him was at another party.  Of course, this party was entirely different from the last one: for one, it was hosted by your boyfriend, and there sure as hell wasn’t any quail.  There was a lot more alcohol, though.

You were hanging off to the side, not feeling quite up for mixing in with the crowd as they danced to the record Brian had put on.  Even if they spared you from the same boring questions that your parents’ friends bombarded you with, they were uninteresting in their own way as every conversation seemed to come back to politics or pot.

Brian startled you a bit by coming up beside you, resting his hand on the small of your back.  “Hey,” he greeted, and you smiled up at him.  Your eyes lingered on his face— he looked… grown up.  It was probably just because he had a beard; he certainly didn’t always act grown up, but overall, Brian was perfectly acceptable.  He’d asked you out, he’d actually had the bravery for that, so that was a great head start.

You tried to shake the thought out of your mind, looking away from him; it wasn’t a head start because this wasn’t a race.  Who, after all, would he be racing against?

For some reason, your eyes turned to the front door— and you bit your lip as you saw Angus coming inside, slipping off his coat and looking around the room (for you, presumably).  He looked even more haggard than before: a little pale, eyes sunken and dark, and he definitely hadn’t shaved since you saw him.

Brian looked to find where you were staring, and frowned slightly.  “Who’s that?” he asked.

“Oh, um— Angus Tully, his parents are friends with mine, I used to babysit him when he was a kid.”

You knew that wasn’t really what he was asking, so you weren’t surprised when he got to the point more directly: “What’s he doing here?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, hoping Brian wouldn’t somehow figure out that your heart was racing.

Brian’s hand moved up to your shoulder and gave it a squeeze, just as Angus noticed you and hurriedly shoved his way through the crowd to come face-to-face with you.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, his voice raspy and hurried as he took a quick glance at Brian in his peripheral.

“Um— sure,” you agreed awkwardly, not sure which answer would be less suspicious.  Of course, when you glanced at Brian, he just looked mildly annoyed— bored, even.  You realized in that moment that you didn’t need to worry about him suspecting you and Angus of anything, because he barely registered Angus’ existence: he certainly wouldn’t acknowledge him as some kind of sexual threat.

“Privately,” Angus added— and that actually got Brian’s attention, though he seemed more aware of your discomfort than anything.

“Anything you wanna say to her, you can say in front of me,” Brian assured firmly, and Angus swallowed anxiously— it was obvious from the bob of his Adam’s apple.

“Actually, uh, somebody was looking for you out front,” Angus told him.  “Something about a keg getting delivered to the wrong house?”

“Shit,” Brian hissed, dropping his hand from your shoulder and looking towards the door again.  “Fucking idiots…”

Having made quick work of Brian, Angus put his attention back on you.  “Let’s go outside,” he suggested.

“W-we can just talk here,” you tried to say, but he was already grabbing your wrist and guiding you out; why did your heart still skip when he touched you?

Once he’d taken you through the kitchen and out to the back porch— where you could still hear the music and chatter, but it was much quieter— you spoke.

“Angus, I really am sorry about— you know— but you can’t just—” you started.

“It’s not over yet,” he insisted, surprising you with his intensity; you leaned back against the wooden railing, and he stood just a little too close with those dark brown eyes piercing through you.

“If you tell me you’re happy with Brian, I’ll leave you alone,” Angus decided, puffing up his chest a bit.

“I’m happy with Brian,” you said sternly.

A brief moment passed.  “Okay, I lied,” Angus admitted.

“Jesus,” you hissed.

“But only because I don’t believe you!” he explained.  “We were so good together.”

“Yeah, we were,” you admitted, “but… it’s over now.”

“No— it’s not.  It can’t be!” he insisted with a whine, and you scoffed as you shook your head.

“Angus, you’re being childish,” you scolded.

“Oh, don’t say that,” he grimaced.  “Don’t hold that against me— I’m not stupid, you know.”

“Of course you’re not— but you’re not thinking clearly.”

“Damn right I’m not!” he spat.  “You’re all I could think about, for months!  Months, I couldn’t fucking get you out of my head!  And not just the, you know, the dirty stuff— everything.  Every moment I spent with you, every dumb thing we talked about for hours, every time you laughed at one of my shitty jokes—”

“Angus, please,” you breathed, glancing down; you could only take so much of this, and you worried he was figuring that out.

“Does he make you laugh?” Angus pressed, stepping a bit closer to you.  “Does he make you feel special?  Does he make you come?”

“Yes,” you said sharply, “he’s great, okay?  I’m happy— so please just stop fucking this up for me.”

“Okay, fine,” he conceded, “you’re happy, I believe you.  But… but what about me, y’know?  He doesn’t need you like I do.”

Your face warmed up and you crossed your arms tighter, staring down at the ground.

“Of course he likes you— who wouldn’t?  But he couldn’t even imagine how I feel about you— how long I’ve been thinking about you.  I mean, I’ve wanted you since I was a kid!  You’re my dream girl!”

“That’s— that has nothing to do with me,” you tried to explain.  “That’s a fantasy!”

“But it’s real, baby,” he sighed, bringing his hands up to gently hold your arms at either side.  “It’s so real, you know it is.”

You didn’t even have the heart to deny it— or to tell him not to call you that.  You knew if you looked up at him, you wouldn’t be able to fight him anymore; he must’ve known that, too, because he delicately lifted your chin until you met his gaze.

And then he kissed you: tender, sweet, and shameless.  He didn’t care if anyone saw, if anyone knew— even Brian.  You, on the other hand, still cared enough to try to stop him; but even you couldn’t resist a kiss like this, and you found your hands pulling him closer as quickly as they’d tried to push him away.

He took you home, without another word about what this meant or where you stood with each other.  You snuck him into your room and he climbed into bed with you and he touched you like he’d been waiting a lot longer than just a few months for this moment.  Frankly, you were beginning to realize that you’d been waiting a lot longer for this, too.

Before, Angus had always been talkative during sex— sometimes annoyingly so.  But this time, he didn’t say a damn thing; neither of you did.  And yet, somehow, just by the way he looked at you, just by the way he held you, just by the way he moved inside you... you felt like you heard more than you ever had.

//

You sat next to each other on the bench, staring forward into the dark treeline ahead— there was still a layer of frost around their roots, and a new snow had begun to fall even if it wasn’t cold enough for it to stick on the pavement.  You tried not to look at him too long, in case it made this any harder, but you did appreciate that he seemed a bit more put together than he had the last time you went a few days without seeing him.  He was clean-shaven, too… is it wrong that you kinda missed the stubble?

“Thanks for, you know… giving me a couple days to think about it,” you mumbled, and he nodded.

“I thought you might have somewhere better to be on a Friday night,” he said— trying to lighten the mood a bit, you could tell; trying to make you comfortable.

“Well, even if I did, I think this needs to be done,” you explained, and he pressed his lips together a bit.

He waited patiently, though, for you to break the silence and explain yourself, even if he didn’t seem too surprised when you did it.

“It was a mistake,” you decided.  “It was great, but it was a mistake— and I’d really appreciate if we could just… let it go.  And if you didn’t tell Brian.”

“Okay,” he nodded slowly.  “I wasn’t gonna tell him.  But I still think you should dump him.”

“Well, that’s my decision,” you reminded him, crossing your arms.

“I know,” he breathed.

You could already tell, just by the way the next silence began, that he was going to interrupt it with something stupid… you just never expected how stupid.

“The thing is— I love you,” he blurted out suddenly, turning to look at you again as your eyes widened.  “I fucking love you.”

“Angus, I— you can’t—!” you choked out, but he continued before you could try to think of a response.

“I know I do— don’t say I don’t know what that is, or that I’m too young or something stupid like that,” he pleaded.  “I know how I feel, okay?  When you miss somebody this much, when you think about somebody this much— what else could love be, but that?”

You sighed, looking away, and he moved closer to you on the bench.  Even if you knew it was preposterous that someone else would be in the park at the end of the street at this time of night, you still fought the urge to look over your shoulder.

“Don’t tell me I’m crazy,” he breathed.  “You love me too, don’t you?  I mean— I thought you basically forgot I existed, but last night… that sort of thing doesn’t just happen, does it?  It’s not… it’s not usually like that.”

“No, it’s not,” you admitted, “that was different.”

He perked up, smiling wide when you looked at him again.  “Just say it,” he begged, “say you love me too— ‘cause I know you do.”

“I— Angus, it’s more complicated than that,” you explained.  “We’re still— there’s Brian, for one thing… we can’t really go on like this, you know that.”

“I know— I don’t want to keep doing this.  I want to really be together,” he replied.  You tried to turn your body away from his slightly, but he grabbed your hands and held them tight until you looked at him again.  “I’m almost done with high school— I’ll go to college where you’re going for grad school!”

You shook your head.  “No, you can’t do that.”

“Just think about it: us, together— we could actually go on real dates, and go to college parties together, and, like, study out at the library— or, you know, whatever you college kids do,” he fantasized.  You smiled, but shook your head again.

“We… we can’t do that,” you denied.

He frowned, and turned away from you, staring darkly at the ground.  “I knew it,” he mumbled, shaking his head.  “You’re embarrassed— you’re ashamed of me.”

“What?!” you blurted out.  “Angus, no—”

“It’s okay,” he said in a terribly unconvincing way, crossing his arms.  “I don’t blame you: I’m just some dumb kid from your hometown.  You want a guy your age— not some random freshman… you want something better.”

“That’s bullshit,” you replied instantly, “you can do so much better.”

“C’mon, I’ll never do better than you,” he insisted.

Even though he’d misunderstood you, your heart still swelled a bit at the compliment.  “I meant for college, Angus,” you explained, and he deflated a little.  “You can do a lot better than a state school.”

“Well, I, um… I don’t know if I can,” he admitted nervously.  “My grades are kinda… inconsistent.  And I went to so many different high schools—”

“Who gives a shit?” you scoffed.  “You’re fucking smart— way smarter than anybody else here.  You act like an idiot sometimes, but you’re eighteen, it kinda comes with the territory.”

He frowned, but couldn’t exactly deny it.

“You deserve to go somewhere amazing,” you told him.  “You need to go somewhere amazing— and do something amazing.”

For a long moment, he just stared out into the dark; until, suddenly, he whipped his head back around at you with a quizzical look on his face.  “Wait— is that what this is all about?”

“What?”

“Do you not want to be with me because you think you’d, like, hold me back or something?” he accused.

You blinked quickly; something about the way he said be with me caught you off-guard— like it was a term much more mature than you had expected from him.  Instead of answering directly, you just stammered.  “Well, y-you’re young, and—” 

He cut you off quickly with a laugh.  “Oh my god!  You think I give a shit about that?”

“No,” you shot back, “but you should.  You realize how fucking dumb it would be to change your whole life for the first person you ever slept with?”

“When you put it like that, it sounds dumb,” he admitted, looking down at his feet swinging over the edge.  “But what if it’s somebody that, you know, you think you really have a shot with?  What if it’s somebody that you feel like you can’t live without?  Somebody that makes you finally get all those songs you hear on the radio—”

“It only feels like this to you because you’ve never felt anything else,” you explained gently.  “It’s your first love.  It fades.”

“But I don’t want it to,” he said instantly, looking at you with the most heartbreaking eyes you’d ever seen.  “God, I don’t want it to.”

You looked up at him as his hand brushed over your face, and felt tears welling before you could fight them off; he kissed you, in a way that you thought he might have never really kissed you before.  In a way nobody had kissed you before, in fact.  It wasn’t very long, but it felt like it might as well have gone on forever.

When he broke away, he kept his eyes shut, and he pressed his forehead to yours as his thumb stroked your cheek.  “Tell me it doesn’t have to end,” he breathed, “please.  Tell me it’s not going to end.”

“It has to,” you whispered back, watching his shoulders sink and bringing your hand up to clutch at his chest.  “It has to end, someday.”

You took a shaky breath, watching a tear fall from his jaw onto your arm, feeling everything you’d held back finally breaking through as your grip on shirt tightened and your lip began to quiver.

“But it doesn’t have to be tonight,” you sighed.

Gasping with relief and joy simultaneously, he kissed you again, and pulled you closer at your waist, and wrapped you up in his arms tightly.

There was, of course, this nagging voice at the back of your mind— that maybe it didn’t have to end.  And god, you wanted to silence that thought permanently if you could, because it had never done you any good.  That hope had only ever led to pain before.  But, without it, nothing would ever really have a chance: if you weren’t willing to risk the heartache, you’d never let yourself love Angus the way that he deserved and the way that you knew, deep down, you already did.

So, as he kissed you that way you thought people only kissed in movies, and whispered to you those words you thought people only said because they were poets and dreamers, you realized that maybe it didn’t have to end someday.  Maybe he would spend the next several years of your lives convincing you that you didn’t need to protect yourself from your own feelings.  Maybe he would actually have the patience to break down walls he never built, to fix wounds he didn’t leave.  Maybe he was ready to give you something to believe in, something worth taking risks for while you were still young and reckless.  Maybe he, like the oncoming equinox, would melt your ice so new life could grow.

Or, maybe, this feeling he had really would fade once he gained a little more life experience; maybe you would make too many mistakes for him to forgive.  Maybe you would always be friends, or maybe you would have too much history to be able to see each other again.  Maybe you would grow apart— maybe you would have to brace yourself for that, to sit next to him on a cold dorm room mattress as you both realized it just wasn’t working anymore.

The most important thing that you realized in that moment— that eternal moment in his arms, in the dark, in the last snow of Spring— was that it didn’t matter.  It didn’t have to be forever to be perfect; it didn’t have to be the ending to be beautiful.  He loved you.  Even if you were still trying to figure out why, he loved you; and that was true, and real, and special.  His love couldn’t fix you, but it made you feel fixable, and you hadn’t seen yourself that way in a long time— you could only dream that you might see yourself the way he saw you.

When you pulled back from the kiss for a moment, you smiled wide— you laughed, actually— and sniffled as he wiped your tears away.  “I love you,” you told him, and even though he kissed you again, you didn’t stop saying it.  You wanted to keep it on your lips until it didn’t scare you anymore; you wanted to keep your heart open, even if it made you vulnerable, maybe because it made you vulnerable.  After all, you couldn’t ever be sure it wouldn’t come back to bite you… if you could, it wouldn’t mean anything.

Even though all you said to him was I love you, each one meant something a bit different.  I trust you.  I’m not sure I’m ready, but I’m going to try.  I’m sorry.  I’m so glad I met you.  I’ll never forget you.  Please don’t let me go.

Somehow, you felt like he heard each one.  Each time he told you that he loved you, though, you heard the same thing: I won’t let you go, ever.

//

Easter Mass was relatively pleasant, if a little too long.  You did notice Angus sitting with his family, across the aisle and a few rows back, but you only gave him a quick wave before the service started and managed to resist glancing back at him after that.

The best part of Easter was always afterwards, though: you stood at the furthest end of the lawn, in front of the ivy-covered exterior wall of the chapel, as children ran around snatching up colorful eggs to collect for their baskets.  Even if it was totally stupid, and irrelevant to the actual message of the holiday that the priest had just spent the whole service hammering in, you got a kick out of the fancy clothes and tiny dress shoes, the squeals of delight, the candy and toys in bright pastels.  You were just thankful the weather had warmed up in the nick of time for all the festivities— indoor egg hunts never have quite the same effect.

Angus sauntered up beside you, sipping on a styrofoam cup of complimentary coffee, and you didn’t even look at each other, but you both smiled.

“They’re cute,” he stated after a little while.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“Do you wanna have a kid?” he asked, and you gave him a hesitant glance only to find him looking right back at you— his expression was friendly, but neutral enough that you couldn’t read if he meant having a kid with him or just, you know, in general.

Deciding it must be the second one, you let out a soft, nervous laugh.  “Uh, I dunno… maybe someday,” you offered, as non-committal as possible.

“How about right now?” he challenged, lowering his voice slightly, but not enough to stop you from glancing around to make sure nobody heard.

“Angus, fucking Christ,” you coughed.  “Don’t joke about that.”

“I’m not,” he shrugged.  “I mean, maybe I’m not being literal, but that doesn’t mean I’m not being serious.”

“Well… we can’t,” you mumbled, looking out at the lawn again, hoping not to stand out too much.  “Not here.”

“I know, I know,” he agreed, and the two of you fell back into a silence— an oddly comfortable one, even.  You crossed your arms as you watched the kids run around and he kept sipping on his coffee.  After a few moments, though, you spoke again.

“Meet you in the Sunday school room in the West wing in five minutes?”

“Yup,” he said, already turning to leave.  You smiled slightly to yourself, glancing down at your white shoes planted in the grass.  Even on such a delicately-manicured lawn, wildflowers were already springing up— little periwinkle diamonds scattered here and there.

When what felt like a reasonable amount of time passed, you made your careful and casual exit from the egg hunt to slip back inside.  Once you were away from the crowds and on your way to meet Angus, you couldn’t stop yourself from running… and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, either.

[celestie0]

childhood friends to lovers with gojo.

warnings/tags. fluff & angst, sad ending

you two were five when he kisses ur cheek on the playground underneath the slide n you both thought that counted as a first kiss. u two were attached by the hip all throughout elementary school, i mean srs, your parents would even have joint parent teacher conferences bc there was just nothing the two of you wouldn't do together.

and then middle school came around, you joined the marching band n he joined the football team. he starts acting different around you, and it hurts. bc you two were best friends. you were always supposed to be best friends. he starts hanging out w the popular kids, and you find yourself walking home alone. summer before high school, he wants to hang out again, but you tell him you deserve better than that. and you two drift apart.

it's hard starting high school without him, watching him from afar during lunch in the cafeteria. he's with his table of phonies, acting like someone he's not, and you know because you've always known him. better than anyone else. you really wanna join the cheer team, since you've done gymnastics for a long time, but you've always been too afraid to tryout for the team. this time, you do, and you get in. now all of a sudden he wants to talk to you again, now that you're popular in high school and have earned a place on the field during his games. fuck that, you say to him, you threw away what we had just because i wasn't good enough for you to have by your side. you start dating his teammate, you two are nominated for prom queen & king, and he has to watch as you kiss someone else on stage when you win. someone that should've been him. he starts dating the cheer captain, just to show it off when he comes running to her after a winning game, kissing her right in front of you but he's not looking at her, he's looking at you. to make sure you're watching. and you do the same thing to him. and the whole time you two are wondering what are we doing to one another?

summer after high school, he shows up to your doorstep one day on his skateboard. with a box full of all the letters you used to send him as a kid. you still have yours too, somewhere tucked underneath your bed. you spend the whole afternoon laughing with him as you read through them all, laying on the carpet of your living room, and you both feel like kids again. he hovers over you when he kisses you, but you're still mad at him, and to show him how mad you are, you kiss him back. it's no use, you two are going to different colleges, you'll hardly see him, but he swears he'll call. he swears he'll fly to see you. he swears he'll never makes the same mistakes again, because he wants you. and only you. you kiss his cheek, and say okay.

and he does. he does everything he promises you. but the distance is too hard, and he was a little too late. you break up with him over a twenty-one character text sent while you're drunk at a house party your second semester at university, and he just doesn't understand. he'll never understand. and he never sees you again.

until you're both thirty-two, standing in line at the grocery store. he taps your shoulder, you turn around, you wonder if it's a stranger who wants a favor, and you realize he's so much more than that. he's the little boy that kissed your cheek underneath the slide when you were five. your first kiss. except it wasn't, was it? his face is long, and his cheeks have lost plush, but he looks so handsome it makes your heart skip a beat. you two are pleasant, exchanging it's been so long! and you look great! but when his eyes catch the twinkle of the wedding ring on your finger, his smile drops ever so slightly, and when he scratches his cheek to hide the sadness, you notice a band on his finger too. and he pays for your groceries, just to be kind. and you thank him for it, just to be kind. and you go your separate ways, never to speak again. but there's a box that still sits somewhere in your closet. and a similar one still sits in his too.

[thebibliosphere]

In somewhat humorous news, my mother got into a quandary today involving some former coworkers.

Before Hunger Pangs broke containment, I asked my mother not to tell people back home what my author name was because I didn't want to deal with the homophobia I'd get from certain family members if they knew I was writing queer romance. I also didn't want certain people to know because I knew they'd find my social media and fucking doxx me. Not out of any maliciousness, mind you, but just sheer fucking Internet safety incompetence.

Like we're talking the type of people who'll go onto your Instagram and use your full birth name-- regardless of your preferred name -- while asking if you remembered hanging out that one time near your parent's house-- you know, the place with the [RECOGNIZABLE LANDMARK] next to the [PRACTICALLY A GPS LOCATION.]

Yeah.

Anyway, my mother was cool with that because she also, quite frankly, didn't want people to know her only daughter was writing queer filth for a living. (Does anyone else remember when she told me I should apologize to @mothman-etd's mother for writing sex in my stories? Because I sure do.) That was until Hunger Pangs broke containment, and my mother, to her own shock, decided she was proud of me.

I think it was when she logged onto Amazon, expecting to see people one-starring it and calling it degenerate filth, but instead found over 300+ 5-star reviews screaming about how much they loved it and how much it meant to them, that she realized that maybe, sometimes, sex stories are okay.

(Amazingly, she pivoted and latched onto Vlad smoking being the worst thing about it and how I should be ashamed to write about characters that smoke, lol.)

Anyway. She bumped into an old coworker today and was so excited to tell them how well I was doing she forgot that a) she doesn't like telling people what I write about and b) I'd asked her not to tell certain people that it wasn't until she'd gotten through the whole "oh yes, doing very well, living in America writing books" spiel that she realized what she'd done and clamped her mouth shut.

She didn't name me or the book title, but it was too late because said former coworker went and told everyone else she used to work with, and now my mother's been invited to tea at the local church village tea shop with an ensemble of formidable gossips, specifically to talk about my book.

So, anyway, I may or may not be about to get accidentally doxxed, but my mother is the one about to walk into the local church and tell everyone the kid they threw out 20+ years ago for being a disobedient pain in the ass with Views about Christianity is now relatively popular online for writing best-selling queer romance novels about vampires and werewolves fucking in a soft BDSM dynamic, featuring blatant magic use and a prologue which talks explicitly about imprisoning and killing God(s).

*jazz hands*

[wonustars]

𝘋𝘰 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 ? (Teaser)

𖦹 pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader 𖦹 wordcount: 15k+ (this teaser: 643 words)

𖦹 genre: enemies to roommates to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut (mdni 18+) (none in this teaser though)

𖦹 summary: your first day at your new university you spill coffee on an unsympathetic asshole. unfortunately for you that unsympathetic asshole becomes your roommate. 𖦹 in other words: you and jeonghan get off on the wrong foot, but through forced proximity and a snow day in due to a storm, you learn that your roommate is more than just the campus playboy.

𖦹 tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, e2l!jeonghanxreader, campusplayboy!jeonghan, roommate!jeonghan, afab!reader, bestfriend!booseoksoon, joshua is jeonghan's accomplice in everything, reader is the only one who knows how to cook, jeonghan is king of the sassy man apocolypse. (more will be added in the full fic) 𖦹 smut tags/warnings will be added in the full post.

𖦹 taglist form. you can also comment or send an ask but the form is preffered! :) thank u

𖦹 note: this jeonghan fic idea has been cooking in my head for a longgggg while now. idk when it'll be out but cosidering i'll have more down time, i'd say by the end of this month? but it really depends so sorry in advance if i take longer than that lol. i've also decided to make a google form for anyone who wants to be added to the tag list (you must be 18+ though, and i will check if your age is in your bio), as well as a permanent one if you'd like! anyways see you all soon! mwah - anna.

Read More Here.

You hate Yoon Jeonghan. The moment you met him, you hated him.

It had taken you about ten seconds to get on his bad side. All it took was a cup of iced coffee and a random bump in the sidewalk. In the blink of an eye, your freshly made latte had become a wet coffee-coloured stain on Jeonghan’s bright white shirt. Mortified, you apologized profusely, not knowing what else to do.

Everything happened so fast, that you didn’t even realize you were tripping and then spilling your drink onto him. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” He spits at you, his eyes cold as ice. 

Your cheeks heat up fast, and you’re stuttering your words all over the place. To say the least, you felt bad, you haven’t even been here for more than 24 hours and you were already fucking up badly. Just a few hours ago you were ready to start fresh, starting a new semester at the University you transferred to from your hometown. 

Looking back up at the man who was currently staring you down, you begin to take napkins out of your bag to wipe his shirt. A yelp escapes your lips once you feel him slap your hand away from his chest. 

“I said what the fuck is your problem?” He repeats himself, the fire in his eyes flaming against the light of the afternoon sun. 

“I’m sorry, I tripped and-” You begin to explain yourself but he cuts you off, not wanting to hear your sorry excuse of an explanation. 

“I don’t care that you tripped, you spilt your drink on me.” He seethes, clenching his jaw as he talks. 

Now you’re equally as pissed as him, you stare at him for a second trying to see if he’s joking because he couldn’t be serious right now. Quickly, you realize that he is indeed not joking, if anything he’s more serious than you were when you told your parents you were moving away. 

“I’m sorry I spilt my drink but it was an honest mistake. It’s a stain, you can wash your shirt.” You scoff at him, unbelievable, you thought. As you roll your eyes, you watch him get red in the face with anger. 

Jeonghan is a lot more frustrated now that you’re giving him attitude, after the fact that you were the one to stain his clothes.  His fists begin to ball at his sides, who does this girl think she is, he asks himself.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve. You can’t just talk to me that way.” It was his turn to scoff at you, this petty fight between the two of you not going anywhere. 

You look him up and down, you could take him in a fight if it came down to it, or at least that's what you like to tell yourself. His body is a lot on the slimmer side, his looks seem to be his only redeeming quality. Long-haired, with long eyelashes, he was a pretty boy, you’ll admit that much. Yet his personality is not in harmony with his looks, and you found it to be quite surprising. How can someone so good-looking be so spiteful? 

“Too bad, I’ve already apologized and tried to make up for my actions. Didn’t Mommy tell you life isn’t always fair?” You mockingly pout up at him as he towers over you. Before Jeonghan could come up with a rebuttal, you walk past him, purposefully knocking your shoulder with his.

“Hey! I wasn’t done with you! You’ll regret this day!” He shouts at your figure as you walk away from the scene. As you walk away you pray to the gods that this is the last you’ll see of the long-haired pretty boy. 

Little did you know, your prayers had done the opposite of what you asked.

© wonustars

𝄒𓏲࣪ . ⩇⩇ 𝄒 𖥻 a/n: my bad all, ik it's another uni au please dont hate me T-T. i promise i'll do something different next time BUTTTT i'm literally only about 1.5k words in but i'm already excited to share it with you all! please look forward to it :)))

[f4wning]

imagine a former non-yan yandere.

warnings: kidnapping, stalking, etc

➣ former non-yan!yandere who notices your presence after half a year of not realizing you were in his math class. he didn't even realize you existed before you two were assigned to sit together.

➣ former non-yan!yandere who ignores you. oh, you need help on a problem? that's too bad. he is NOT letting you look at his notes. fuck off. he doesn't care if it's a fucking partner activity. do it yourself.

➣ former non-yan!yandere who realizes the lines between hatred and love have blurred. now he finds your stupidity the slightest bit cute. now he wants to work together with you. now he wants to get rid of anything and anyone that could hurt you. now he wants to kill your stupid fucking friends and kidnap save you and keep you all for himself.

➣ wait what was that last thought?

➣ former non-yan!yandere who genuinely believes this is what love is supposed to feel like. he doesn't know a thing about love; he's never dated, he's had no friends his entire life, and his parents had always been too busy with work to care about him. he doesn't have a clue what love is supposed to feel like, so naturally he just chalks up this obsession to love.

➣ former non-yan!yandere who starts growing more and more enamored with you to the point where you consume all his thoughts.

➣ former non-yan!yandere who eventually starts following you to your house after school. it’s not stalking! his house is just the same way as yours!

➣ former non-yan!yandere who tells himself that if he's just walking the same path, it’s not creepy. he convinces himself that it’s pure coincidence, even if he sometimes takes a longer route just to be near you a little longer.

➣ former non-yan!yandere who finds himself memorizing your schedule, not because he’s obsessed—no, of course not! it’s just because he just wants to know what you’re doing. it’s perfectly normal to know where someone is at all times, right? he just wants to keep you safe!

➣ former non-yan!yandere who slowly starts to get envious of anyone who gets too close to you, even if it’s just one of your classmates asking for help. they don’t see you the way he does. they don’t know what you really need.

➣ former non-yan!yandere who eventually starts taking little trinkets from you that he’s sure you won’t miss. you’re not going to realize your pencil is gone, right? or that one hair clip you wore to school?

➣ former non-yan!yandere who gets this overwhelming urge to be with you and look at you and listen to you all the fucking time. it’s too bad he can’t.

➣ former non-yan!yandere who realizes he needs to look at you all the time, or else he’ll go fucking insane. he starts taking photos of you—just a few at first, but those few quickly grow into hundreds, maybe thousand of photos. he prints them all out and decides to plaster them all over his bedroom walls.

➣ former non-yan!yandere who sits on his bed for hours on end, just staring and staring and staring at the photos of you. he tells himself it’s normal. he’s just admiring how perfect you are!

➣ former non-yan!yandere who starts to become frustrated. the photos aren’t enough. they aren’t really you. they’re just images—they don’t capture the exact way you look, the way you talk, the way you smell, the way you move. he needs you here.

➣ former non-yan!yandere who begins to lose his grip on reality. the line between fantasy and reality becomes thinner and thinner as the days go on. he becomes delusional, starting to believe you and him are already together, that you feel the same way he does, that you love him. of course you love him! why else would you always be in his thoughts?

➣ former non-yan!yandere who grows paranoid that someone might take you away from him. he starts spreading rumors about your friends, telling you how they’re such horrible people. yes, that one friend of yours threatened him to stay away from you! don’t you believe him?

➣ former non-yan!yandere who starts planning out how to finally make you his. it’s not enough to just watch you from a distance. he needs you next to him. he starts looking up various things—how to knock people out, what the strongest type of rope is, what drugs are best to use, the most efficient weapon to kill people with.

➣ former non-yan!yandere who’s conflicted. a small part of him knows this isn’t normal, that something is wrong with the way he feels about you. those doubts drowned out by his love for you, though.

➣ former non-yan!yandere who finally realizes that he’s too far gone. he thought of losing you terrifies him, and that fear only fuels his obsession. he needs to protect you. he needs to make sure no one ever takes you away from him. he needs to save you from everyone else.

➣ former non-yan!yandere who finally acts on his plans, drugging you and tying you up, taking you away from everyone and everything that could ever be a threat to you. it’s all for love, he tells himself. it isn’t kidnapping if he’s protecting you! he just wants to save you. a small part of his brain registers how wrong this is though. it’s so, so wrong.

[myspacebrat]

𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝…

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

★ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you leave your best friend and Hawkins behind your junior year to move to the city of angels with your parents, what your best friend Eddie never expected was to see you on the cover of the newest playboy issue five years later, and holy shit was he anything but disappointed.

★ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, no mentions of race, hair color/texture, or body size, readers nickname is angel, smoking weed, female nudity, male masturbation, angst, mentions of divorce, lots of fluff, 69, unprotected p in v, squirting, creampie.

★ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: as always thank you to my baby loves @xxhellfirebunnyxx and @take-everything-you-can for reading and hyping me up with this fic, love you babes dearly. Also, thank you @bettyfrommars for unintentionally giving me the name and nickname for this <333

★ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.4k

It was a chilly autumn day in Hawkins, Indiana and all Eddie wanted was a carton of cigarettes and a bag of pretzels before making his way to the last place a twenty year old like him should be– high school.

“Welcome-... oh.” The older man behind the counter stopped himself from his usual cheerful greeting before groaning as he eyed the metalhead down.

One time…Eddie stole a box of condoms, one time two years ago and Stu the manager of the stop and go is hellbent on never letting him forget it.

Eddie rolls his eyes at the bald headed, beer bellied man as he makes his way down one of the small aisles, grabbing his usual bag of Rold Gold pretzels. His eyes scan the shelf for anything else he might feel like snacking on come lunchtime, before a loud horn echoes from outside making him whip his head around, brown waves falling down his back from where it was laid over his shoulders. He witnessed the tail end of a car who must've cut off another in the intersection, before his eyes dropped to something else. The words playboy catches in his line of sight, making him turn around fully, two heavy black boots carrying him over to the magazine rack that sits just underneath the big store window.

Two very familiar eyes stare back at him, causing him to harshly swallow, his heart beat kicks up in nervous excitement, holy shit!

It’s you.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

5 years ago

“Eds, can you please quit hoggin’ the joint?” You whine from your upside down position on his bed, head hanging over the side as he’s sprawled out on the floor, flipping through a magazine while taking quick puffs of said spliff. “It’s called puff puff pass, you greedy boy.” You pout, not realizing the affect such words would have on your best friend.

“Uh, yeah shit sorry.” He stammers as his eyes find yours, shaky ringed fingers raising up towards you as the zigzag rolled joint slightly quivers in his grasp. Greedy boy will stay on a loop in his mind later on tonight when he’s alone.

Eddie wouldn’t argue with anyone who said he was fucking dumb, because the dumbest thing he could ever do is fall for his best friend. That’s like the number one rule in a friendship and he just had to go and fuck it up, like he does everything else. But you’re you. How can he not fall for those innocent doe eyes? That beautiful smile that could light up even his darkest days– and that giggle, that giggle that sets his insides on fire, makes him wanna trip over nothing just to hear it, makes him wanna memorize even the corniest jokes just to go back and tell you later, while his chest is puffed out and proud he’d been able to make you cover your mouth with your pretty hand while a girly giggle bursts from between your lips. Yeah he’d done that.

But you’re you, the girl everyone wants. The girl he’s incessantly hounded about whenever he does a deal with one of those meathead Jocks.

“So… is Angel ya know, seeing anyone?” Steve Harrington aka king Steve asks as he passes a crisp twenty dollar bill over to Eddie before smoothing out his letterman jacket. Of course, it never fails.

“Uh, n-no I don’t think so.” Eddie says, shoulders deflating as he throws the bill into his black lunch tin.

“Good, good. You think you can put in a good word for me?” The honey eyed boy asks as he flashes Eddie a charming smile, the smile that made all the girls swoon over his very existence.

Well yeah Eddie could admit he was cute or whatever, I mean he has eyes. But he loves you and there’s just no way he’d ever “put in a good word” for anyone that wasn't himself.

“I don’t think you need my help getting into anyone's pants, king Steve.” Eddie bites, before kicking his legs over the rickety bench and trudging his way out of the woods, to the school's parking lot. He quickly notices you hunched over, leaning up against his rust bucket of a van, arms crossed as your head studies your dainty feet in your pristine white keds.

“What's goin’ on sweetheart?” Eddie prods as he now stands toe to toe with you, the stark contrast of his dirty Reeboks against your clean and proper shoes, causes a sad giggle to erupt from your chest. You slowly pick your head up and Eddie noticeably winces when he realizes your eyes are full of unshed tears that are so close to boiling over, ready to drip down your lash line and onto your perfect cheeks. “Hey, what's wrong princess?” The metalhead asks before bringing his thumb up to wipe the tears that have finally bubbled over.

“I’m moving… tomorrow.” The tears are now boundless, no end in sight as they fall freely.

Eddie feels light headed at your words, moving? Moving where?! He says as much in a strained but somber timber.

“California, can you believe that?” You scoff, moving to California in your Junior year of high school no less, sounds like an utter nightmare.

“California!?” Eddie all but shouts, “what the fuck? Why so far away?” He’s trying his best to keep it all together, he wants to grab you and kiss your pouty lips, tell you everythings gonna be okay and no one can take you away from him, but he doesn't, he tries to stay neutral and positive for you.

“Well hey, we can still keep in touch, right?” He chuckles, but the smile is nowhere near to reaching his eyes, it holds nothing but sadness and unspoken truths.

“Oh, Eddie.” You wistfully whisper before throwing yourself into your best friends embrace, two leather clad arms wrap around your body as he rubs little circles into the skin above your elbow, his head buried into the top of your hair– he takes in your scent as his last ditch effort to be this close to you, until it's eventually ripped from him. You smell like strawberries and cream and he’ll never be able to smell it again and not think of you, it'll be ingrained in his subconscious forever… filed away in that part of his brain that holds a box of the many things he loves about you.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Eddie couldn't believe his eyes as they scan the inside of the issue, you sprawled out in next to nothing on a questionable looking mattress as you spread your legs for the camera, fucking the reader with those doe eyes that had him lost for you, years ago. Of course he had to buy it, even as Stu rang him up with a knowing smirk on his face, that smug bastard.

So here he sits in that same van you were leant up against just five years prior, where you broke some of the worst news he’d ever gotten, thumbing through all the pages your beautiful body graced. God, you were even better than the you he conjured up in his imagination.

He couldn't help it when his cock began to stir against the rough fabric of his jeans, apart of him felt guilty but he knew he had to find some kind of release before he stepped foot into hawkins high. He refused to be the guy who popped a boner in class, he was already a freak he didn't need perverted creep added to that title– so before thinking too much about it, he made his way to the back of his van, plopping down on the small mattress that was placed back there for action that didn't involve just him and his hand.

He began unbuttoning his jeans, it was laundry day so he had no other obstacle to remove– his cock instantly bobbing out in front of him, hard and already leaking at the tip. He quickly turned to the page of you sprawled out on a similar looking mattress to the one he was seated on, before spitting into the palm of his hand and bringing it down to his throbbing sex. The glide was easy with the amount of saliva he’d used, building a rhythm as his eyes wandered over your beautiful curves. He couldn't help but to think about what you’d been up to these last few years, who you are now, if you still think about him at all… yeah fucking right.

God, he would have treated you so good if he had the chance, fucked that pretty little pussy until you were screaming for him to not stop, keep going, right there.

With his unused hand he brought the bottom hem of his shirt up and under his chin so he wouldn't make a mess on the only clean shirt he had in a three mile radius, but also so he could get a better visual, now picturing your mouth around his cock instead of his heavily ringed hand. The way your pretty plump lips would wrap around him, taking him all the way back into your throat as spit falls from the sides, your eyes watering as they look up at him. What did him in was the memory of that last moment he had with you when his nose was buried in your hair, strawberries and cream had his toes curling in his boots as his creamy cum dripped over his knuckles and down his silver rings, some even splashing onto his happy trail as low moans of your name left his lips.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

One week later

The last place you ever thought you’d find yourself, was back in Hawkins. But your aunt called your mother in a panic, she was going through a messy divorce and she needed to make this thanksgiving special for your two younger cousins who were more than likely going to feel the brunt of the new change.

So of course, you and your mom packed up and flew to Hawkins to spend thanksgiving in the little town you’ve tried so hard to leave behind.

Two days here and you already remember why you missed it so much, although you love the big city and all it has to offer you’re really just a small town girl at heart, always have been.

“Hey, there you are sweetie. Can you do me the biggest favor and run to Melvald’s? Your aunt is about to have a nervous breakdown over her cherry pie, it’s just not baking right…do you think you can grab a few?” Your mom asks as she leans against the doorway of the guest bedroom you’re staying in.

“Yeah sure, but it’s the day before thanksgiving, you think they’ll still have some?” You ask as you stand up from your lying position on the bed.

“Well it wouldn’t hurt to check?”

“Of course not.” You agree with a peppy smile as you assess yourself over in the mirror attached to the big dresser.

“Do you want to take her car?” She asks with a grateful smile.

“No, I could use the walk.”

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

You stroll down the bakery at melvalds, placing three pies in your little hand held grocery basket; cherry, pumpkin and pecan before turning around and making your way down a random aisle, but what you see or rather who made you stop quick in your tracks.

Eddie.

You haven’t seen him in five years and it shows, his hair is longer, shoulders broader but still wrapped up in leather. You stand there unable to move, unable to take your eyes off of your old best friend, the guy you had it bad for since sixth grade.

His head snaps towards you at the sudden realization he’s being watched, you see the futures on his face go from utterly confused to shocked in a matter of seconds. Brown eyes widening into large pools of chocolate.

“A-Angel?”

Angel, you hadn’t heard that nickname since your junior year. It was something you were predominantly called in Hawkins and were grateful it didn’t follow you out to California. But standing here now, listening to it fall from his perfect lips, you realize just how much you’ve missed hearing it.

“Eddie.” You clutch at the small basket in your hand, as you shoot him a bashful smile. You didn’t know what to say. “Hey, how ya been? Sorry I never returned your phone call and totally let our friendship disintegrate into thin air.” It’s not that you didn’t want to talk to him, but the pain you had gone through leaving him behind was too much to bear and in your young mind you thought it would be easier to quit him cold turkey, so to speak. Was it a shitty, selfish plan? Absolutely. But you knew the inevitable would happen and he’d get a girlfriend he was over the moon for and would brag to you about how much he knows ‘she’s the one’ and you just couldn’t take that blow to your heart. So you never called back. Put all your time and energy into school and new friends, dating here and there but never being able to fall for anyone the way you did for him.

“H-how have you been?” Eddie stumbles, trying to break the awkward tension. He can’t seem to look you in your eyes and you can’t help but to mistake his nervousness for anger, you wouldn’t hold it against him if he held some sort of resentment for you and your fleeting friendship.

“I’ve been okay, back in town for a couple weeks so that’s nice…” you try your best not to grimace at your words, this whole interaction feels so…different. You hate how you had once been able to talk to him about anything, to now have no clue how to speak to him.

You want the ground to swallow you whole.

“Yeah, um you look great by the way.” His eyes finally meet yours again, they hold contact for at least a few seconds before they shift down to your exposed midriff and the tops of your thighs that peek out from beneath your brown plaid mini skirt.

“Hey, I’m um well me and Wayne are having a pre thanksgiving dinner tonight, since he’s working a double tomorrow for ya know the holiday pay. Anyway, do you wanna maybe come by? He always asks about you.” His cheeks turn rosy from his rambling and the unnecessary information he’s now kicking himself for adding in there.

“Oh, um yeah. Yeah I’d love to!” The smile you beam up at him could bring him to his knees in an instant. The smile he beams down at you has your heart fluttering anew.

“Do you mind taking me to my Aunt Cindy’s to drop these pies off, and then we can head back to your place?” The basket sways in your hands as you hold it up in question.

“Yeah, she still lives in Loch Nora, right? 1310?” His remembrance of little details from years ago goes straight to your heart and maybe a tad between your legs.

You swiftly nod your head as Eddie puts the remaining ingredients for what looks to be Wayne’s famous Mac and cheese into the buggy, before you both walk side by side to the register.

The checkout process is silent as the cashier rings you both up separately, aside from the happy greetings and small talk from the nice lady, but you don’t miss the little glances Eddie shoots at you from the corner of his eyes, as if the next time he looks you’ll be gone. You can’t help but to think maybe he’s not so mad at you after all, I mean he wouldn’t invite you back to his place if he was, right?

The car ride to your Aunts house was filled with more silence mixed with the metal music Eddie had playing in the background while his fingers drummed incessantly on the steering wheel. It seemed to be more out of nervousness, as the side glances continued and if you weren’t mistaken you’d say he was looking at your thighs rather hungrily. You could feel that pull in your lower belly, that fire you used to get while hanging out with him as if you had to squeeze your legs together to get any sort of relief. Fuck, why are you torturing yourself like this?

After dropping the pies off and your mom quickly catching up with Eddie, you hop back into his van and head to forest hills.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

“Well look who it is. How are ya kid? Haven’t seen you in…what’s it been? Four or five years now?” The older man asks before bringing you in for a hug. Wayne was like the father you never had when you lived in Hawkins, as your actual father was always at work or bringing his work home with him. You couldn't help it when your eyes welled with tears at all of the memories you had in this trailer and with these two men who still seem to mean the world to you.

Dinner went smoother than you could’ve expected, the food was good and the conversation was even better. You all seemed to fall back into your usual banter, especially you and Eddie, it was almost as if no time had passed, like you never even left.

Finally after all the food and beer had been eaten and sipped, Wayne gets up from the table before slipping on his work boots that sit by the front door.

“Well, I gotta head out. You kids be good ya hear? It was nice seeing you sweetheart.” Wayne says before wrapping you up in another bear hug, and then he was off leaving you and Eddie back in that awkward silence, but not for long—

“D-do you still smoke?” Eddie asks as he nervously plays with his hair, wrapping it around his ringed finger then letting it fall back into place.

“Duh, you think just cause I moved to L.A. I stopped smoking? They’re even worse out there.” You say as you nervously shift on your feet.

“Well I just thought since you no longer had the best dealer in town, you’d quit or something.” Eddie instantly regrets his words and his weird attempt at flirting, but when you giggle and playfully roll your eyes at him that feeling dissipates from his mind completely.

“Lead the way, handsome.” You purr, causing Eddie’s breath to hitch. You had never called him cute or handsome before and now he thinks if he plays his cards right he may actually have a chance with you, whatever you were willing to give him he’d take with a smile on his face.

You follow closely behind him before he opens his door for you, standing with his back up against it motioning for you to go first, still the perfect gentleman.

The only light in the room was coming from the kitchen and the soft moonlight peeking in through his makeshift curtains, so you saunter over to his night stand and turn on his lamp, the yellow light causes you to squint your eyes as they adjust to the brightness. You begin taking in any new details not noticing much, before your eyes fall to his bed.

You and Eddie both stop in your tracks and now he’s the one who wants the ground to swallow him whole. How could he forget that there? How could he be so stupid? He wouldn’t blame you if you cursed him out, called him a freak and a creep and left. But when his hazy eyes find yours, he can see a smile forming on your lips but he can’t tell if it’s from flattery or if you're going to laugh and tease him.

“I um, I meant to put that up.” He admits as his face grows beet red, he rubs at the back of his neck as he tries to gauge any kind of reaction from you.

“Did you like it?” If Eddie hadn’t been watching your every move he might’ve missed the soft whisper of your voice. That question however caught him completely off guard, he could feel his cock begin to stir as you walked over to him, now almost chest to chest.

“Uh, what?” He urged as he shook his head from side to side, brown waves swaying back and forth with every move as if he hadn't heard you right.

“I said… did you like what you saw?” Your eyes are big and innocent, a pout forms on your lips as your hand reaches up to touch his chest. Eddie feels like he can’t breath, you're touching him and he can’t fucking breath because he’s thought of this moment for years, and its happening.

“I did, I r-really did.” He confirms as he licks his plump pink lips, before giving you a nervous smile as if he still couldn't believe this was happening.

“Did you touch yourself to my pictures Eddie?” You whisper as your hand moves lower down his abdomen, making your way to the top of his jeans.

“Mhm, yeah I did.” He admits, causing you to send him a salacious smile, fingers beginning to fidget with his handcuff buckle.

“Well I’ve touched myself thinking about you plenty of times, so I guess it’s only fair.” You shrug, slipping your digits under his shirt and rubbing them through the tuft of hair that sits just above denim.

“You-you have?” Okay, you have to be fucking with him now, there’s no way you have played with yourself thinking about him.

“I have for a very long time.” You admit, vague but the look on your face tells him you’re serious. You have thought about him like that and his dick couldn’t stiffen any harder in his jeans, if it tried.

“Fuck princess, so have I…want you so bad.” His hands move to your hips, first a gentle graze before his grip tightens possessively.

“Then take me, Eddie.” You whisper into the plump skin of his pink lips before they’re on you, soft and pliant. It starts off sweet and full of love before it becomes hot and needy, tongues interlocking with passion as you take in the taste of cigarettes and the sweetness of the marshmallows and brown sugar from the candied yams Eddie had shoveled into his mouth earlier, not typically your favorite but on Eddie it was.

You break the kiss causing him to whimper before quickly discarding your brown knit sweater over your head, throwing it onto some unknown surface in his messy bedroom. His eyes widen as he takes in your bare breasts as if he hadn’t been jerking off to pictures of them all week, but seeing them up close and in person was a different experience entirely. 

You bring your lips back to his, heavy breathes and moans fall between your mouths as Eddie turns your body slightly, knees buckling on the edge of his bed before you both fall back onto his lumpy mattress. A sharp gasp and that giggle falls from your lips and Eddie can’t help but to take in every crease and dimple on your face, smiling down at you as if he lived and breathed to make you smile, as if seeing you happy in turn made him happier. You know now, there is no denying that this love that is surging between your bodies has been there all along, you were both just too stubborn and self deprecating to see it. 

“God, you’re beautiful.” Eddie whispers into your cheek before his lips begin a trail down your jaw line and onto your neck, soft kisses that make you squirm and shift as if he’s teasing you, aching to see you break, to hear you beg him for more, more, more. 

But what flies out of your mouth instead, has him detaching from your skin to look back into your eyes and then down at your lips, as if he needs to see how you look as you mouth those words to him. “I love you, Eddie.” 

It drips from your tongue so earnest and sincere that it has him breaking all resolve, he swallows harshly, your eyes fall to where his Adam’s apple bobs causing your stomach to sink. You make a move to push him off and sit up before stuttering over your words, trying to assert some kind of damage control to save yourself from humiliation but Eddie doesn’t budge, you dare look back into his eyes scared to see what you’d find but when you do, you see nothing but pure adoration and love, it causes you to furrow your brows in confusion as you and Eddie stare into eachothers eyes, souls bare and ready for what follows. 

“I love you angel, I always have.” Falls so sweetly from his lips and you can’t help but to hold onto every single word tightly as if they’d float away from your mindseye, forever. 

It's what you’d always wanted to hear, he loves you, he’s always loved you. 

You don’t put much more thought into it before you’re yanking off his mercyful fate band shirt, throwing it off to land in the sea of clothes that would eventually become his floor. 

You eye his tattoos, new and old before slowly tracing them with your index finger. Eddie watches you with a deep set smile, the one that perfectly displays his dimples. He slightly jerks when you move on from the demon on his left pec and down to his nipple, lightly circling it, before bringing the pad of your digit to the silver barbell nestled there, ever so gently swirling as you pull a whimper from his lips. 

“Is it sensitive?” You ask with the ghost of a smirk on your face, already knowing the answer.

“Mhm, very. Feels really good.” He chokes out between huffs.

“Can I lick it?” The look on your face is pure desperation, how could he deny you something you're clearly begging for with your eyes. 

“You want to?” His face is full of surprise as if it’s the first time anyone has ever paid any attention to his nipples and you just can’t help but to think what a shame that is. 

“Wanna do everything with you.” You whisper before bringing your face closer to his chest, eyes on his as your dark lashes flutter up at him, lips pressed together before you give his nipple a quick blow of cool air, his eyes shut as he hums in delight. 

“Need an answer before I put my tongue on you, pretty boy.” Words dripping with mock confidence as your insides flutter with nerves. 

“Yes baby, you can lick me wherever you want.” He rushes out, so needy for whatever you’re willing to give him.

Without another thought you flick your tongue across the pink bud and silver jewelry before wrapping your lips around it, giving one good suck before you move on to his other nipple, both decorated and equally making you drip between your thighs. 

“Oh fuck, that feels…so good.” Eddie hums as his eyes shut tight, enjoying the sensation you’re bringing him, he jerks his hips in anticipation and the rough denim catches on your clit, a moan bubbles up and out of your throat as he continues his movements, his hungry eyes moving down towards where your lower half meets his, your white cotton panties on full display for him as they perfectly outline your lower lips, wet patch glistening in the low light of his room. He half expected you to wear some little lace number but something about the white cotton brings him back to the nights he’d stay over at your house when your parents were out of town. He’d catch a glimpse of them in your hamper and it took every ounce of him not to look, not to touch, not to smell but goddamn did he want to.

“Already so wet for me.” The words sink into your skin as he places kisses around your neck, desperately trying to stave off marking you as his, at least not until you’re asking, begging.

“Just need you inside me Ed’s.” You whine as you now begin to rock your hips into his, bodies moving and rutting into each other in tandem as moans fill the stale air of his bedroom. 

“No baby, not yet…no need to rush, we have all night.” His voice is deep and husky as he throws you a wink before swiftly peeling your panties down your lower body, leaving them to dangle off of your right foot as if he was just too desperate to fully remove them, you clench around nothing at the thought and Eddie doesn’t miss it as he looks down onto your pussy with complete wonder in his eyes.

“She’s so fucking pretty.” He whispers, making your face heat up from the praise of your sex, you wanted to squirm and snap your legs shut at the attention. Sure, you’ve done these types of poses for pictures as photographers, lighting directors and wardrobe designers looked on. But, something about being underneath Eddie and him looking at you, like really looking at you, made you feel so unbelievably vulnerable, like his opinion is the only one in the world that matters to you. 

“Want you to sit on my face baby,” his voice is needy, practically begging with his puppy dog eyes “want this pretty pussy to suffocate me.” He grits, the way he almost growls his request has a shiver running down your spine. You nod rapidly, allowing him to lay down before you’re swinging your leg over his head to nestle yourself right over his awaiting mouth. The first lick through your folds has you whimpering, hands falling to his chest just to have something to hold onto. The feeling of his warm, soft lips on your pussy is addicting but his tongue that dips out to flick over your clit and into your fluttering hole is down right diabolical, you can’t help but to move your hips side to side, giving him just what he wants as you bury his face deeper into your cunt. 

He’s enjoying every minute of it with the groans and expletives that muffle from his mouth, as well as the front row seat you have to the tent in his black denim jeans. 

Your curiosity was getting the better of you as you continued to eye his bulge; you needed to see him, taste him, touch him, so you lay flat against the metalheads chest, bringing your hands up to tussle with the handcuff buckle Eddie was still sporting all these years later. 

He gasps from underneath you, his hands moving from your hips down to the globes of your ass, taking handfuls as you unbutton and unzip his jeans— you hear a faint “oh fuck” when you begin pulling both denim and plaid polyester down to gather at his knees. His cock springs up, hitting his stomach in an almost comical way that makes you wanna giggle, his tip is cherry red, blue veins run along the sides and clear beads of precum bubble out of the slit. He’s big and pretty, so pretty. 

You take him into your hand, touching it as if it were some kind of delicacy, you want to memorize every vain, every ridge and dip as your hands enclose around it. You squeeze around the base creating more beads making the others drip over and down the mushroom tip. 

You can’t take it anymore as your mouth waters with hunger, you take him between your lips licking and sucking at the flushed skin before moving further down and burying him deep in your throat. 

“Mmff.” The vibrations from his groans make you shudder as you continue to bob your head, creating a steady pace as you cup his balls and use your unoccupied hand to twist on his shaft. 

Eddie gives a quick slap to your ass cheek before he’s tapping your leg which you take as your signal to get off, and you do. 

“Fuck angel, I need you to stop before I come down your throat.” He says as if it’s a bad idea, like you wouldn’t love to swallow every drop he gives you. 

He can tell by the look in your eyes that that’s exactly what you want, but he only has one place for his come in mind—

“I need to fuck you full baby, I’ll let you swallow another time.” He says in absolute glee as if he's silently preparing to give you what you want in the hopefully near future. 

Eddie quickly grabs the backs of your thighs, catching you off guard and making you yelp as you fall onto your back on the mattress, but once you’re laid flat he doesn’t let go, pulling you down so that your butt is almost hanging off the edge. His eyes are blown wide with lust as he grabs his cock and gives it a couple strokes before tapping the head on your clit, he throws you a devilish smirk when you moan from the action. 

“You ready princess?” The flushed look on your face and lustful gaze would’ve been enough of an answer, but Eddie had to wait for any kind of verbal confirmation before proceeding, “mhm, very.” You finally speak up, voice demure but the look in your eyes still shined with glazed over desire. 

“Hold onto me baby, want you close.” Eddie whispered as his tip began to sheathe itself inside of your drenched hole. 

Your hands instantly went to the nape of Eddie’s neck, before you began dragging them down, placing gentle caresses down his back. The soft touches and feeling of your tightness wrapped around his cock had his eyes rolling back and mouth agape in pleasure. 

He felt like a virgin with you, nervous like he was going to blow his load entirely too fast but also scared to make one wrong move, he didn’t want to fuck anything up. He never had to worry about this kind of stuff; as far as Eddie was concerned, chicks came and went and he never had to make any kind of impressions to make them stay, you were different and that fucking terrified him. 

But once you rub your nose on his like a cute little kitten and bat your lashes up at him as if to tell him he could push in further, all those debilitating thoughts leave his mind, giving over to you; your scent that fucking strawberries and cream, your taste of slight cigarettes that he knew was from him; that thought drove him wild, and the sight of your beautiful lips open in a perfect “o” from the overt satisfaction he was bringing you. 

One last thrust had his cock completely buried inside your walls, wet and already gripping him like a vice, he wasn't going to last long with all the sensations you were bringing him. It had his head spinning, making him so fucking dizzy with lust. 

In his determination to get you as close as he was, he stopped his small thrusts to spit a glob of saliva onto your clit before roughly thrusting in and rubbing his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves, simultaneously.

“Oh my god!” you shouted with a feminine squeak, making Eddie smirk cockily all while thrusting faster while his thumb continued to form tight circles.

“Yeah, that’s it.” He growls as his brown doe eyes bore into yours, watching as you lose yourself to that overwhelming arousal that was burning in your lower half. Eddie swiftly lifted your legs bringing them to your chest, the new angle had him hitting that little pleasure button hidden deep inside of you, head on. Whimpers and pleads fell from your mouth as your legs began to shake so intensely, you thought they'd lock up for good. 

Your cunt was pulsating so fiercely around Eddie that he had to remind himself to breathe, everything felt too good and he could tell he wouldn't be able to hold out any longer, no matter what he willed his mind to distract him with. 

“Im so fucking close baby, come here.” He groans, bringing his arms underneath your body and gripping you in a tight hug before yanking you up so you were practically seated on his lap, all while he was still nestled deep inside of you; then began bouncing you on his cock as if you weighed nothing. You were babbling nonsense at this point, so close to what you could tell would be the most intense orgasm you have ever had. 

“Fuck yes, yes, please.” you moaned before Eddie captured your lips in a deep tongue filled kiss, heavy pants and mewls being passed back and forth into eachothers mouths making the whole scene so much more ardent and passionate. 

“Oh! I'm gonna come eddie!” So close to that precipice you could practically taste it, you bounced harder on the metalhead's cock making him throw his head back while whimpers were suspended into the muggy air above. 

“Good girl, that's a good girl. Gonna come so hard for me aren't you?” He had babbled those words with so much desperation that it made you hit your high instantly, with a gush of warm liquid falling over Eddie's hairy thighs and seeping deep into his mattress. A new stain added, that would commemorate this beautiful moment between two once love sick teens turned two head over heels, adults who were ready to give all they had to each other, a second chance to do what they should have a long time ago. 

“Uh, gonna fill you up baby.” Eddie's grip tightened around you as heavy grunts were spewed from his pink swollen and slick lips.

The come down was filled with cuddles and kisses, as Eddie pulled you closer into his chest holding you against him as if you were the most precious thing he’d ever had in his grasp. 

“You should be my date for Thanksgiving dinner.” You murmured as you burrowed deeper into Eddie's shirtless pecs.

“Mm, I should?” He responded with a playful lilt, as if he wasn't praying you'd ask him. You gave him a little nod as you bit at your lip, a hopeful gaze in your eyes. 

“And then after maybe we can talk about me moving back to Hawkins.” 

T A G L I S T

@ahoyyharrington @hellfirenacht @joannamuns9n @uwantagoodbhloe 🖤

[f1rodrigo]

sweet relief | l. norris | part four

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ it's so reckless of me...

summary: in which you fall for your best friend’s teammate and keeping it a secret proves to be harder than you intended. or when all you need is sweet relief the rest of the world fades away. pairing: social media au || lando norris x piastri bsf!reader fc: olivia rodrigo <3 warnings: language

inspired by the song ‘sweet relief’ by madison beer

ALL PARTS HERE

a/n: hi i'm veryyyyy sorry for how long it took me to get this one up but it has a bit more than the other parts did & its currently finals week so the end of the semester is always very busy so i didn't have much time to work on this. hope you enjoy xx

⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。 ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。 ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。

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landonorris added to their story

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📍 Tokyo, Japan

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, and 2,032,987 others

yourusername i don't dream of anyone else...

view all 3,098 comments

user1 SHES IN JAPAN EVERYONE UP

user2 miss girl...this caption...the rumors...is it lyrics...what does it all mean%^&(@&@(!

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user4 can't tell if this is her confirming or denying

⤷ user5 ...or living her life and not paying it any mind

user6 WHY THE FUCK IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE LAST PHOTO??? ITS LITERALLY THE ELEVATOR AND FIT SHE WAS IN FROM THE DELETED PIC ON LANDOS STORY HELLO

⤷ user7 wait omfg it is.... idk why i didnt realize it sooner ⤷ user8 pls they do not gafffff anymore basically telling us they're together ⤷ user9 omg what deleted story???? ⤷ user10 go to @/norrisupdates on twitter i think they posted it before he deleted

user11 max fewtrell in the likes oh i am Thinking

lilymhe prettiest girl <3

⤷ yourusername i love u so dearly ms lily ⤷ user12 this is wag confirmation idc

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yourusername added to their story

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liked by lnfour, yourusername, and 643,811 others

landonorris DOUBLE PODIUM!!!!!!!!!! Congrats mate! Thanks @/mclaren 🧡

view all 3,070 comments

mclaren Very good, very nice. 🏆🏆👏

oscarpiastri Well done mate 👊

riabish 🙌

user13 ANOTHER PODIUM THATS MY GOAT

user14 who would've thought... wow i am so proud

user15 mclaren double podium i used to pray for times like these

yourusername conhrsts 😭🧡

⤷ landonorris hmm sorry what was that ⤷ yourusername oh my god i couldn't see through my tears YOU KNEW WHAT I MEANT ⤷ user16 COULDNT SEE THROUGH HER TEARS PLSSS SHES JUST LIKE US ⤷ user17 mom and dad are fighting i dont like this

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liked by landonorris, yourusername, and 643,811 others

oscarpiastri One for the mantelpiece 🏆 and driver of the day too!! you guys 🧡

view all 2,217 comments

user18 SOBBING MY EYES OUT

landonorris Congrats mate!!

⤷ oscarpiastri You too mate! (and i'm not talking about the podium 😉) ⤷ landonorris ...I take it back ⤷ user19 oscar piastri what the FUCK is that supposed to mean

yourusername I AM CRYING LIKE A PARENT DROPPING THEIR CHILD OFF FOR THEIR FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL

⤷ user15 yn & lando parents to oscar has now been confirmed

yourusername so beyond proud of you oscar 🥹

⤷ oscarpiastri 🧡🧡 ⤷ user20 cannot imagine how she feels watching him all her life through karting till now and getting to witness his first podium oh my gosh im crying again ⤷ user21 STFU NOW IM CRYING

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liked by oscarpiastri, dan_nigro, and 3,981,061 others

yourusername my new single, 'sweet relief' will be all yours in one week. presave at the link in my bio<3

view all 5,910 comments

user30 BEST DAY OF MY LIFE ARE U KIDDING

user31 love song about lando calling it now

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user33 BABE WAKE UP YN YLN ANNOUNCED NEW MUSIC

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⤷ user34 real

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user34 HIT OF THE YEAR INCOMING

user35 cannot wait oh my fucking god

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tagged:

@allywthsr , @2bormaybenot , @vellicora

[mrsbarnesblog]

i can't let you get hurt

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: You have just moved to New York, where your adopted brother Steve has been living for 5 years. Desperate to make new friends, you give the dating app another go. You didn’t even think that you would have to ask for help from the person who has not left your thoughts for the past month - your brother’s best friend.

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: fluff, reader is Steve's adopted sister, mechanic Bucky, creepy behaviour, protective Bucky.

Author's note: Does anyone know if community labels are reducing the number of likes and reblogs? because my last post received a suspiciously small amount of notes🤔 but I'm afraid to remove them because Tumblr might decide to block me again

Moving to New York was the idea that has been sitting in your head for a long period of time. Since your adopted brother Steve finished high school, he moved there without any money, without friends, and only with a lot of desires and dreams. You stayed in your small town with your and Steve’s adopted parents because you were only fifteen at the time. It’s been almost five years, and right now he owns an auto repair shop, and as far as you know, it’s a pretty successful place.

You knew that you had nothing to lose; you had no opportunities in your city, no close friends, and it was a really boring and gray life.

Steve only visited you two times, but you regularly spoke on the phone. So when your plane finally landed and you met him, you were kind of a crying mess. He was still your closest person, and you loved him with your whole heart. Steve was now much bigger, with broad shoulders and arms that were probably the same size as your head, but he still had that golden retriever energy, which you really loved.

Steve helped you find your apartment building, where you rented a small and cozy flat from a nice old lady. It wasn’t too much—just a bedroom and living room connected with a tiny kitchen and bathroom. Everything was clean, with light furniture and a lot of plants. It was actually surprising that this place had an affordable rent, and you were happy that luck was on your side.

On the next day, your brother finally showed you his famous place, which he owned with his now best friend Bucky Barnes. And talking about him, he was something else. A tall, big man with fluffy chocolate hair, stubble, and the most beautiful blue eyes you've ever seen. You knew that you were fucked as soon as he looked you directly in the eyes, shook your hand, and gave you a charming smile.

You met almost everyone in the garage. All the guys were super nice and friendly, they even showed you all of their cars that they were working with. You were happy that Steve found such a family here, they were all obviously so close to each other. 

Yet, after a month here, you had almost no friends. You found a job in the coffee shop down the street, where you met an amazing redhead girl named Wanda. You chatted a lot during the work, but you two were still far from friends.

That's how you ended up here. On a date with John.

For some reason, you decided to give that stupid dating app another try. John found you there, and he seemed nice, so when on the second day he decided to invite you to a bar, you agreed without hesitation.

How long has it been since the last time someone asked you out? Year?  Yes, it was a little sad to realize that no one was particularly interested in you. Before moving to New York, all the guys you talked to seemed to only want one thing, so you had high hopes for John.

Your evening went well at first. You ordered a drink and chatted. He really seemed nice. After the second drink, you decided to stop for a bit because the alcohol started to make you feel dizzy, even though John was persuading you to taste more of the cocktails that he had brought you .

"You know, I think I better slow down with drinks; I really don’t want to be drunk and embarrass myself on the first date." You pushed your glass back a little, smiling politely.

"Oh, c'mon, baby, don’t upset me." John chuckled and put his hand on yours. You awkwardly smiled, not ready for such physical contact. "You’re here alone, right?" He tilted his head, and you didn't miss how his eyes stopped at your boobs.

"Um, not exactly... I mean, I know like five people in this city, and one of them is my brother. But we don’t live together; he has his own life." John nodded his head and leaned a little closer to you.

"So it means that we can have some fun, right, baby?"

"Fun?" 

"Mhm." One of his hands stayed on top of yours, and the other one suddenly fell on your leg. Your body tensed at the feeling of his fingers as they started to rub the bare skin of your inner thigh. You definitely didn’t expect it to happen. "I’ll take an Uber; we’ll go to my place, and we can continue our night. What do you think?"

"I didn’t want to—I mean, that’s not what I was looking for—I thought that we were going to just talk and drink, you know…" You tried to take his hand off of you, but his grip only became harder.

"Don’t try to run away now, baby." He grinned. "You dressed up for me, huh? Your tight little dress that shows your boobs says it all. You just want me." You felt goosebumps all over your body because of his look. It was intense and not as innocent as it was before. You felt disgusted because of his words. You wanted to look good, yes, but seducing him wasn’t part of your plan.

So what are you going to do now? You felt unsafe, and you didn’t know how you could escape this situation. He was obviously a creep, and he just wanted to have sex with you. You can’t go home because either he won't let you go or he might find out where you live.

 "O-okay- um- just let me- I’ll go to the restroom real quick, and we can go, okay?" You nervously smiled and stood up, almost spilling your cocktail.

"Someone’s excited, huh?" He laughed, looking at your body up and down.

You left without an answer. You really went to the restroom because the bar was half empty, and John would’ve definitely seen you going out. Luckily, the restroom was empty. You locked the door and looked at yourself in the mirror for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to do.

You reached into your purse to get your phone. The first person that came to mind was Steve. Only long beeps were heard, and after the third call, you gave up.

"Fuck, Steve, I really need you right now." You scrolled through your contacts again. It wasn’t a lie that you knew five people from New York. Steve was not answering his phone. Your neighbor Natasha and Wanda from work, were not your close friends, so it would’ve been weird to call them because of this. There was a number of an old lady who rented you an apartment, and she was obviously not an option. And there was another person.

Bucky.

Calling him in this situation was the last thing you wanted to do. Hell, he probably won’t even answer you because he thinks that you’re just his best friend’s little sister, and he’ll definitely make fun of you about this stupid date. But you had no other variants.

"Hello?" He picked up his phone almost immediately, and you even forgot what you wanted to say. "Y/N? Are you okay?" His deep voice was full of worry, and you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach.

"H-hey, Bucky. Um… I’m really, really sorry that I’m calling you, but Steve is not picking up his phone. Do you know where he is?" You walked around the small room, trying to calm down.

"Yeah, he’s meeting with some girl he's been talking about for days. He’s probably really busy right now." He chuckled, and you felt like you were about to cry. Bucky must’ve heard your breathing change because he immediately went silent. "Doll? What happened?"

"My God, it’s so stupid…" You squeezed your eyes, not wanting to cry.

"Tell me." 

"I’m at the bar. I’m on a date with a guy named John, and he became very persistent. He wants me to go to his place, but It’s- I’m not interested in this. And I can't just leave because I’m afraid that he can follow me and find out where I live… fuck I really don’t know what to do, and I wanted to ask Steve to pick me up." Your phone stayed silent for a few moments, and you already thought that he got tired of your mess and just ended the call. "Bucky?"

"Where are you? What bar? Are you in the restroom?" His voice was low, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with all of this.

"It’s that new place a few blocks away from my crib. With big neon red signs at the top. And I’m in the restroom right now."

"I’ll be there in five. Stay there and don’t open the door until you know it’s me." He said that and ended the call, leaving you nervous and excited at the same time.

The loud knock on the door almost made you jump. Fastly, but quietly, you reached there and tried to listen for any signs of who it could be.

"I hear you. Open the door; it’s me." The familiar voice came from behind the door.

You opened the door and met Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes. He seemed a little bit out of breath, as if he had run here. You quickly scanned his body, and the fact that he was wearing your favorite leather jacket made you weak in the knees. His dark brown locks that curled at the ends almost asked you to touch them. It was not your fault that this idiot always looked ridiculously hot every single time. 

"C’mon, let’s get you home, doll." He grabbed your hand, leading you out of the bathroom to the bar, where you immediately saw a clearly annoyed John. You saw that Bucky looked at him too, but he stopped only when you were already on the street and when your bad date ran after you, loudly calling your name. 

"Hey! Where the fuck are you going? We were supposed to go to my place! You already found someone else to fuck or what?" He yelled, grabbing your other hand at the same time. You felt Bucky quickly move you behind him while still holding your wrist. 

"Don’t fucking touch her. She’s leaving, and if I ever see you near her again, I'll rip your useless hands off. Understood?" Bucky growled, straightening his body. He was obviously bigger than John, who was now less brave. John looked at you for a few seconds as he was thinking about what he should say to you, but then just turned around and left. Apparently, you weren't worth it.

You didn’t know whether it was the cool night air or this whole tense situation that made you tremble. You felt Bucky’s warm body get closer to you, and his large, calloused hand rested on your shoulder. It made you feel a little bit fuzzy because you were trying so hard to hide your little (big) crush on your brother’s best friend. Yeah, it was the biggest cliche, but you couldn’t even blame yourself. He was extremely beautiful, with those blue eyes, rosy lips, and a body that you knew was built like God's. Not to mention that Bucky was sweet and a true gentleman.

"You’re shaking, doll. Wait a second." He started to take off his jacket, and you tried to stop him.

"Bucky, no, what are you doing? You don’t have to; it’s not even that cold!" He just playfully rolled his eyes and still threw a jacket over your shoulders, leaving himself only in the tight black shirt. God, this man.

A sudden wave of his cologne surrounded you. Bucky always smelled good. Something clean with a spicy and woody scent. The leather was still warm from his body, and you fought against the desire to bury your nose in it. You didn't even realize that you actually did it, so when you opened your eyes, you saw Bucky, who had this annoying grin on his face.

"So you like it, huh?" He chuckled. 

"Oh, shut up. I didn't want to do that."

"Of course, doll. But we should go, I have to take you home safely, right?" Bucky said, leading you to the parking lot. To a motorcycle.

"A motorcycle?" You asked Bucky as you stepped closer to him. "No, I—where’s your car? I’ve never ridden on one of those." He had already sat there and had two helmets in his hands.

"I left it in the garage and didn’t want to make you wait here for too long. But you don’t have to worry; I know what I'm doing, and I'll take care of you. I promise." You came closer to him and let him put a helmet on you. You really tried not to tremble as his hands gently fixed it under your chin. "Now sit behind me and put your legs here." He pointed at the weird looking thing.

You felt weird as soon as you sat in the passenger seat. Bucky was so close, and you could feel the warmth of his body even if it was cold outside. Where should I put my hands? Hug him? Put it behind me? You awkwardly placed it on your own legs, and Bucky must’ve immediately felt your tense body because you heard a chuckle, and the next moment he grabbed your hands and put it around his waist. "You should put it right here, doll. You don’t wanna fall, do you?"

You slightly shook your head before you placed it on his back. It was really hard to control yourself when your hands were laying on his hard press. For fuck’s sake, he should be perfect everywhere, huh?

"Hold on tight, Darlin'." You heard another deep chuckle, and he finally put his helmet on.

You don't know how long you were driving, but when Bucky finally pulled up outside your apartment building, you felt sad and happy at the same time. The ride was something else. This man almost gave you a heart attack when you stopped at a red light and he put his hand on your bare leg and asked if you were okay.

He’s just being nice, stop overthinking this.

You knew Bucky for only one month, but it was hard not to fall for him. He was an attractive, kind, and really generous man; you knew that he was like a part of Steve's family. Sometimes, when you visited your brother and accidentally met Bucky, for a few seconds you thought that maybe he finds you attractive. You always caught him looking at you.

But you knew this type of guy—always charming and flirting—who could have pretty much anyone. It was stupid of you to think that he saw you as something more than just Steve’s little sister.

"See, I told you that I was a good driver and that you'd get home safely." He hopped off the motorcycle and stood before you while you were trying to take the helmet off. "Let me unlock it."

"Thank you, Bucky." You said when you were finally free. "For this, for the jacket... You were probably very busy, and I just ruined your night by making you take care of me. Oh my god, I’m really sorry. I just wanted to forget about one person, and I thought that going on that stupid date would be a good idea, but it seems like the only thing that men want here is sex." You chuckled and watched to the ground.

"Now listen to me, doll." Bucky suddenly stepped closer to you, and you almost fainted when both of his hands took your face and forced you to look him right in the eyes. "You shouldn’t apologize for calling me. I was just hanging out with the guys from the garage, but as soon as you called me, I left everything because I can’t let you get hurt." He nervously licked his lips, and you hope that he didn’t notice how you stared at this movement. Bucky’s hands left your face and ended up on your upper arms. Did he come closer to me? "I don’t know who you were trying to forget about, but I hope that he or she is worth your time."

"We– we’re not really close. I’m probably not even his type." You shrugged. Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he buried his hands in the jeans pockets, as if he was angry and tried not to show you. As soon as he made a distance between you two, you body started trembling.

"Is it someone from the garage?" His head was a little bit tilted to the side, and you knew that right now he wouldn’t shut up about it until you gave him a name. "Maybe Sam? Or Thor? Many girls like him, you know. Do you like show-offs like Stark? Or…"

"You."

You both were silent.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. What were you thinking?

"Say it again." Your throat felt dry, and you just stared at him, not knowing what to do. 

"I– Just forget about it, Bucky. It’s stupid–"

You weren't able to finish because a soft pair of lips interrupted you. One of Bucky’s hands cupped your face, lifting you up to his level, and another one laid on your waist. He was soft, warm, and gentle when his lips moved on top of yours. Your head was in the clouds, and it felt like your knees became weaker. You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s neck, completely melting into him. He wanted to stay like this forever. Your skin and your lips were so soft, he could smell your perfume and taste your sweet lip gloss. But he knew that he should stop and do it the right way. After a few seconds, he finally pulled away, but he put his forehead on yours, and it was so cozy, like you two were in a bubble.

"I’m sorry. Was this too much? I overstepped?" He licked his lips as if he were trying to get more of your taste. "I have been thinking about asking you out since the day I saw you. I wanted to do it right. To take you on a date, to be the gentleman that you deserve, and maybe get a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night. Sorry. I didn’t even know that you liked me." Bucky wrapped his hands around your waist, and you nuzzled into his neck, enjoying his scent.

"And I didn’t know that you liked me either. I thought that you felt obligated to take care of me because I'm your best friend’s sister."

"No, I promise you." He kissed the top of your head. "But Steve’s gonna kill me, by the way. He told all of us that you’re not an option and that we can’t touch you."

"Well, I love him, but he can’t decide for me."

"So… Does this mean that you’ll say ‘yes’ if I ask you to go on a date with me? On Sunday, maybe?" You lifted your head to look at him properly, and God, he was so cute when he was nervous.

"Of course, Buck, I wanna go out with you." You smiled at him, and he lowered himself again to give you another sweet kiss on the lips.

"Fuck, you should go home, doll. You’re too sweet for your own good. Wanna keep you all for myself." He mumbled against your lips. "Go."

"Goodnight, Bucky. Please text me when you get home, ‘kay?"

"I will. Goodnight, Doll." You left a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek before finally turning around to go home.

Only at home did you realize that you were still wearing his jacket. At least it was a good excuse for Bucky to see you again sooner. That night, you both ended up texting for hours until you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

Maybe a date with John wasn’t that bad of an idea.

[colorthecosmos444]

Family Game Night

Summary: Reader, Matt and the rest of the Sturniolo family have a family game night together playing all their favorite games. 

Genre: Fluff, suggestive 

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 2322

The living room was crowded as the entire Sturniolo family, Nate and I were having a family game night. Justin finally made it home and Marylou wanted to spend time with all of her kids, including Nate and me. So far, we have played Jenga, Apples to Apples and Monopoly. However, monopoly was only short lived due to the boys quickly getting into an argument and Marylou shut it down. Chaos now ensues as we are currently playing charades. My team consists of Chris, Justin and Jimmy, while Matt, Nick, Nate and Marylou are against us. At the moment my team is winning by two points, thanks to Justin and I having almost a telepathic experience between us. Chris is too busy screaming over everyone else to actually get an answer right and Jimmy is just laughing at everyone. 

Matt is over on the other side of the room frustrated as hell, because he has Nick and Nate who both have the attention span of toddlers. Marylou is actually the only one contributing something to their team. 

It’s Matt’s turn to have his team guess and he walks up to the front of the room, running his fingers through his hair a couple of times, figuring out what he wanted to do. He nods his head as he realizes what he’s going to have them guess and holds out one finger. 

“One word,” Marylou says. Matt nods and spreads his legs, holds his arms out and starts jumping up and down. 

Chris and I look at each other and we burst out in giggles as Matt moves around ridiculously. Matt just rolls his eyes and continues his movements, motioning with his head for someone on his team to guess. 

“I don’t know, are you a clown?” Nick jokes looking extremely confused.  Matt shakes his head and continues jumping up and down. 

“Give us something else, we clearly don’t know what you’re doing,” Nick mocks. Matt sighs and starts moving side to side. 

“Are you a racecar driver?” Marylou asks. Again, Matt shakes his head and gets frustrated. He then takes his left arm and pretends to take a hat off of his head and makes circles in the air. 

“Ooh, I know! A cowboy!” Nate shrieks jumping up off of the floor. 

“Yes!” Matt cheers and gives Nate a high-five.

 “How ironic, that’s yours and y/n’s favorite position to fuck in,” Chris teased. 

“What?!” Nick screams covering his ears. My face instantly turns red, and Matt’s eyes grow wide. “Shut the fuck up, Chris,” Matt chided. I cover my eyes because I don’t even want to look at his parents. “Yeah, man, way to go!” Justin chuckled, standing to dab Matt up. 

A puzzled Matt takes his hand and half-hugs his older brother. The fact is that it’s not even true, but Chris just had to say something to embarrass us in front of their parents. Chris, who’s sitting next to me is laughing his ass off. Matt trudges in front of him and smacks the side of his head. 

“Come on bro, that was too good you have to admit it,” Chris snickered. 

“Have some respect, mom and y/n are right here,” Matt scolded. 

“Chris, watch your language,” Jimmy warned. “Don’t talk like that.” Chris settles down and pulls my hands away from my face. 

“I’m sorry, y/n. I really just wanted to fuck with Matt, not you.” He confessed, recognizing that I wanted to crawl away in a hole and die in this moment of embarrassment. 

“I'm going to fix myself a drink. Does anyone else want something?” Marylou breaks the awkward silence that envelops the room after Chris’s apology. 

“I’ll take something! I’ll come with you Marylou,” I responded, practically jumping off of the couch and sprinting behind her into the kitchen. I follow her as she reaches into the cabinet above her and grabs two stemless wine glasses. Already knowing what she wants I open the fridge and reach for the unopened bottle of Merlot that Matt and I bought for her. She smiles and hands me the wine opener and I pull the cork from the bottle. 

“I’m really sorry about that, Marylou,” I apologize, pouring us both a glass of the red wine. 

“Oh, honey, there’s no need to apologize. Chris doesn’t know when he crosses the line sometimes,” She reassured, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. “Just ignore him. That’s what I have to do sometimes,” she chuckles while taking a sip from her glass. “Let’s go back and see if the boys calmed down.” We proceed into the family room, Matt has taken Chris’s spot on the couch and Chris is on the floor leaning against the wall petting Trevor. I take a seat next to Matt, letting him wrap his arm around me while Justin gets up to let his mom sit in between me and Jimmy. 

Matt leans down and kisses me on the temple. “Hi baby,” he mutters and pulls me into him. “Chris is on a time out.” Matt motions to Chris who perks up and gives a small wave. I giggle and wave back to Chris. “Don’t worry he won’t be saying anything stupid again.” Matt soothed as he gently grabbed the glass from my hand and took a sip. 

“Are you sure about that? Chris always has something stupid to say,” I teased. Matt smirks, “You’re right. He won’t say anything about us though, I made sure of that.” He leans in to kiss my cheek this time. I flush under his touch, my sweatshirt making me ten times hotter. 

“Are we ready to continue?” Nick asks. “I am ready to kick some ass.”

“I’m ready, only if we switch up the teams,” Matt answered. “I’m tired of losing. Plus, I'm comfortable on this couch now.” He rubs his hand over my waist and squeezes my side. Nick huffs but we all agree that we needed a change. We decided to have Chris, Nick, Nate and Justin on a team versus Matt, Marylou, Jimmy and I. Matt wanted more “sane” people on his team and I could tell that he was getting annoyed with his brothers. We start the next round, everyone taking their respective turns. Soon, the madness begins again, and everyone is either screaming, laughing or guessing. I love spending time with Matt’s family. They are my family. I couldn't imagine myself not being in this room with them, being a part of their little family. I know that I belong here, and Matt belongs with me. Everything just feels so natural. Matt and I are holding hands on the couch as we watch Nick trying to act out something to his team. He looks utterly ridiculous, and I feel at home at Matt’s side. Laughing along with his parents as Nick gets louder and louder, thinking that it would help his brothers and Nate determine what he is acting out. 

I can’t help but look up at Matt, observing his features as he takes in the hysterical scene in front of him. His head leans back into the plush couch, his eyes squeeze shut as he laughs, and my body absorbs the warm vibrations from his chest. I lean my head onto his shoulder, wanting to be as close to him as possible. He glances down at me, noticing my movements, and tightens his hold on my waist, pulling me further into him. 

The night carries on and we finish playing charades, now uno has been brought out onto the coffee table. I opted out of this game because I was beginning to get tired. The boys sitting on the floor surrounding the table, Marylou and Jimmy sitting on the other end of the couch, my head laying on Matt’s lap and my legs curled up on the cushion. Trevor is sleeping in between Marylou and me. The night starts to become more relaxed. Charades must have used up all the energy in Nick and Chris because they are pretty chill now. Soft conversations are happening while a couple candles are lit in the room. Jimmy grabbed a blanket for me and covered me up. Now, my eyes are starting to grow heavy. I don’t know if it’s from the wine that Marylou and I have been drinking, almost finishing the whole bottle, or the fact that I couldn’t be in a more comfortable spot right now. Matt threads his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp as he holds his cards in his other hand. 

I am halfway between sleep and reality, silently listening to the family talk about their day and the plans for tomorrow. I hear Justin say “uno” and everybody sighs as this will be the third time he wins. 

“Can we play something else?” Chris whines. “Uh-uh, I’m tired and I'm sure y/n wants to go to bed too,” Nick responds, throwing his cards down on the table. “No, I'm okay right here, really,” I reply softly. Matt sets the cards down, “Are you sure? I can carry you up to my room if you want.” He whispers, rubbing my back. I shake my head and pull up the blanket to my shoulders, readjusting myself on his lap. “Continue playing, I like laying right here.” I mutter, my eyes still closed.

“Well, I’m going to bed so goodnight, everyone,” Nick announces and stands up to go to his room. “I think I'm going to go to sleep too,” Justin yawns, following behind Nick. We all say goodnight to Nick and Justin, and Jimmy suggests that the rest of them play phase 10. Chris grabs the game and deals out the cards and Matt resumes lightly scratching my head, lulling me back into a dreamy state. 

Some time passes as they play the card game, and Marylou leans over to Matt, “You know you picked a good one,” she whispers, “I mean a really good one. Please don’t ever let her go.” 

I know that Matt is blushing, he gets flustered whenever someone compliments me or him. “Thanks mama, I know. I won’t ever let her go.” He promised, lightly rubbing my back. I smile to myself, pretending that I'm fast asleep. “You know I would be happy if you two got married tomorrow, but there’s no rush.” Marylou prodded. 

“Mom! Stop!” Matt quietly sputtered. “We are not getting married tomorrow.” 

“That’s okay, take your time. Take all the time you need,” she replies sarcastically. “Mom seriously, you will get your grandbabies one day just not now.” Matt laughs. 

“But those babies would be soooo cute.” she gushes. 

Chris throws his head into his hands, “That’s enough! No more baby talk, it’s sickening.” he griped. “I thought you liked babies?” Marylou questioned. “Yeah, but not when you are referring to my brother and his girlfriend, that’s too much for me to handle.” Chris grunted drawing a card. Marylou and Matt chuckle at Chris’s reaction. 

“I think it’s okay for them to wait a couple years,” Jimmy interjected. “I don’t think she’s going anywhere unless Matt does something stupid.”

“Dad!” Matt blurted. Jimmy raises his hands up in defense, “Well son, she’s not going to do anything dumb so it would have to be you.” 

Nate and Chris snicker at Jimmy’s words and I'm having a hard time keeping my composure at the fact that everyone is discussing Matt and I getting married and having babies. 

“I mean I guess you’re right,” Matt confirmed. I let out a small giggle, ruining my peaceful cover. “Are you awake?” Matt exclaimed, leaning over to look at me. I opened my eyes and nodded, looking up at him. “So, you heard everything? He asks. I let out another giggle. “You don’t want my babies?” I tease. Matt rolls his eyes and leans into my ear, “Of course, just not right now,” he mutters so Chris and Nate don’t hear him. His face turns red, and he is embarrassed. 

“Hmm okay, I guess that’s fine.” I teased him again. “You know, I'll take you up on that offer and have you carry me to bed. I am exhausted.” He smirks and shakes his head. He puts one arm under my legs and the other behind my back and lifts me up. 

“I’ll be back,” Matt sighed, “got to take the princess to bed.” 

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Marylou says softly. I wave everyone goodnight and Matt makes his way up the stairs into his room. He gently lays me on the bed and kisses my forehead. “Goodnight, baby,” he murmurs.

“Wait!” I reach out my arms, trying to grab onto him. “Don’t leave yet.” I pout, patting the bed next to me. Matt rolls his eyes, “Okay fine, but sit up. Let me help you get into your pajamas.” He motions for me to get up, and I lift my body forward, allowing him to take my hoodie off. He grabs one of his t-shirts from his dresser and hands it to me along with a pair of my pajama shorts. I change my clothes and climb under the warm covers. Matt lays down next to me, wrapping his arms around my body. “You know, it’s going to be my turn pretty soon and they aren’t going to want to wait for me down there.” Matt murmurs, kissing my forehead. “Just lay with me a few more minutes, I’ll be asleep pretty soon.” I say groggily, snuggling into the crook of his neck, my hands wrapping around his waist, slipping under his t-shirt. “I just want to cuddle you.” 

“Mmm, fine. Just a few more minutes.” He mutters, pulling my leg over him and rubbing the back of my thigh. “Just until you fall asleep. Okay, baby?” 

He doesn’t get a response, as I am already fast asleep, our limbs intertwined. “Mmhm, that’s what I thought.” He whispers, kissing my forehead and closing his eyes, hugging me tighter.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩ ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩ ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩ ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩ ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

here's the link for the rest of the Boston Series

𝔫𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔤𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ: @aurora-merritt @spideylovin @watercolorskyy @esioleren @luvbotsblog

𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 <3

A/N: Sorry, this took so long!! Work has been crazy and sleeping during the day really messes with trying to write. But I hope this was okay! Thank you to each one of you that reads and likes my posts, it means so so much!! If you want to be on the tag list let me know!!

love you all to the stars, cece ★

[milliesdiary]

What if you are Jace's sister and he realizes you are in love with Aemond (and he also finds out that you two have been having premarital sex) which causes a fight so you go to Aemond for comfort and he soothes you

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐕𝐎𝐖

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬; princess!reader, targcest, mentions of sex. for some context: reader is daemon’s bastard child who rhaenyra welcomed as a part of the family. yes, aemond is a hypocrite :/ we still love him tho!! 

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; ngl this has been sitting in my drafts for awhile because i hate it. im going to be working on commissions for a bit though, so i decided to post it anyway to keep you guys fed :) please reblog and comment with your feedback. it means the world to me and keeps me motivated! ♡

"𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃."

Those were Jace’s words the second you walked into the dining room for breakfast. They take you aback, shock you into a frozen stupor. 

You and your family have been in King’s Landing for the past few weeks, trying to set aside their differences with the Greens and do their best to reconcile. It has been rough for your younger brothers, though you have been having a brilliant time. 

You and Helaena spend plenty of time together, Alicent treats you kindly, and Aegon leaves you alone. And Aemond? Well... you and Aemond are closer than most in terms of relationships. 

But that’s a story for another day. 

No one else is in the room thankfully — Luke wakes up later in the day, Helaena is presumably outside catching bugs, and your mother is probably off at a meeting with the court — so it’s just you, your younger brother, and the few servants that set the table. 

“What?”

Jace gives you an unimpressed look; his chestnut-brown eyes are slightly narrowed, lips melded into a frown. “You love Aemond,” he repeats. 

Your heart nearly stops when he says it, and you’re instantly terrified you’ve been caught. It would appear that misfortune has a tendency of catching you off guard. You honestly don’t know what to say. 

“...That is quite an accusation,” you try to deadpan. That heated expression of his is chilling; you invite him to sit next to you in hopes of extinguishing it. “Why don’t you just sit down and eat?”

Jace isn’t deterred. He holds his head high and keeps his voice stern; a trait he has undoubtedly learned from your mother. “You told me a couple moons ago that you had no affections for him.”

Oh, Gods. You don’t really want to sit here and listen to him complain about how much of a burden you are from rejecting all of your parents’ attempts at arranging a marriage. For hating every single man they tried to set you up with. You scold yourself more than enough. 

“I know what I said. And I mean it. I do not love him, Jace.” You let out a nervous laugh, trying to come across as naïve. The servants are staring now. “What has brought this on?” 

“You must think of me as a fool.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you acting so innocent?” 

“I don’t love him, Jacaerys. I swear it.” A bitter lie. 

For a fleeting moment, you think you’ve won; your brother stands next to the table without saying a word, his mouth clamped shut as he bites the inside of his cheek. 

And then he drops the bomb. 

“I know you have been seeing each other,” Jace says. It doesn’t come out as a question; it’s a statement. “Stealing each other away in the night.”

Your heart drops in a single second. How does he...? 

For these past few weeks, you thought you were being careful. Undetected. There was never anyone around when you slipped through the dark halls of the Red Keep every night and sidled up to Aemond’s door. Not a single voice to stop you as Aemond tugged you into his room and spoke High Valyrian in your ear as he undressed you, as he kissed you senseless, fucked you senseless. It was a dangerous game, of course — but you never actually expected to get caught. 

“…Where did you hear that?”  

“A kingsguard told me that you parted from his company last night.” Jace’s mouth twists into a disgusted frown. He hesitates, almost like he physically can’t say what comes next. “...From his chambers.”

In that moment, you knew it was over. The gist was up. 

“Jace…”

“Tell me it isn’t true.” 

And that’s the thing: you can’t say you don’t love Aemond, because it would be the furthest thing from the truth. Your hands fall to your lap and you fist your hands in the skirt of your dress, begging for courage. 

“Don’t tell mother.” 

Your response — shameful and pleading — speaks volumes. It makes Jace’s skin boil; he had been praying that the knight was wrong. And that hope he clung to so religiously? It’s gone. You can feel the symptoms of a dispute brewing: sweaty hands, agitated eyes, labored breathing. Tension hangs over you like a dark cloud and refuses to dissipate. 

“Why?” Jace looks disgusted, repulsed even. It sparks a flame inside you. “You saw his true colors that night. All of us did. Baela, Rhaena. Luke.”

You know what he’s referring to. It is a memory that you want to squeeze the life out of. 

“I thought we talked about you sorting out your priorities,” he continues. “What self-respecting daughter of the future Queen runs off and beds whoever she likes without a marriage proposal?” 

Yes, perhaps your growing annoyance is misplaced. Your brother wants the best for you, and it’s only natural that he would have his reservations about Aemond.

But he doesn’t know the man like you do; he hasn’t seen his hidden softness.

Sometimes people lose their ability to be recognized when they are joyful — in a pleasant way, of course. Aemond is one of those people. You’ve seen him smile once before. Truly smile. It was not sly, snarky, or coy; for once, it was the sincere kind. You wished he would do it more. It was incredibly beautiful.

If only Jace could have experienced it.

“Don’t speak about him like that,” you mumble. 

"I won't restrain myself to appease your ignorance.” 

Inhaling sharply, you take a seat at the table and busy yourself by playing with the napkin beside your plate. It’s a feeble attempt at controlling your rising panic. Jace must think you’re acting a bit too calm, because he seems to bristle at your alleged indifference. “I am sorry I didn’t tell you. Really, I am. I was just scared—“

“You lied.” 

“It was a white lie. No harm was meant to come from it.”

Jace fixes you with a firm scowl. “A white lie? A white lie? Meddling with our uncle who you are not betrothed to is not something that just happens.”

“You are blowing this out of proportion. I did it to keep you from getting upset and—“

“This is not just about the lie itself,” Jace huffs. 

“Then what is it?”

“You believed I wasn't worth your honesty.” 

Your gut tightens at his remark — you know he’s right and that he deserves to be informed of such things. Finding out that someone you care for is hiding something this important is a rude awakening. 

But you can’t stop. 

“I knew you would act like this,” you retort. Raising your voice wasn’t planned, but it happens anyway. It feels like your veins are being ripped to bits as the telltale marks of wrath sweep throughout your body. “I will do you a favor next time and not tell you anything at all.” 

“Or you could not encourage him,” Jace spits out. “You think that he does not act like his brother, Aegon? For all you know, he could be gallivanting with a servant every second he is not with you.” 

Your jaw tightens so firmly that it seems to lock in place. You’re pissed now. “Aemond is not like that.” 

“When you see him next, you can tell him to jump in the damn Dragonpit,” Jace continues. You aren’t used to hearing such crude language from him; it has you reeling. “Perhaps he’ll do that after he’s done fucking you.”

Something inside you bursts. Agonizingly. Ferociously. It's a jolt to your system that throws everything off-kilter. It is a painful fury that splits you in two. 

You slam your palms down on the table and rise in your chair; you're astonished the wood doesn't split with the force of it. The plates and forks clatter, and Jace almost jumps. The servants bustling around you certainly do. 

Your brother has some nerve. You want to spit foul names in his face. Wish to seize him by the collar and force him to kneel before your feet, because why? Why can’t you be with who you want? First it was Daemon who denied that you ever get betrothed to Aemond. Then it was your mother, and now it’s him. 

“I do not need protecting, Jace!” Your chest is rising and falling faster now, like the erratic pull of the tides. It feels like there is so much bottled up energy inside of you that you could scream, erupt, or break something … you need to break something. You choose his spirit. “I don’t need you at all!” 

Jace’s expression falls then. Along with it goes your anger. 

His gaze flits to the ground for a second — as if the stone is a safe haven from your wrath — and you’re about to apologize when he lifts his chin to glare daggers at you. 

“I get it now,” Jace laughs bitterly, shaking his head in disbelief. “You would do anything to be held by him. Ceasing to care about who he might hurt next and ignoring his callousness. You see only what you want.”

In his rage, Jace’s lips spew poison from deep in his chest, a dark place that you didn't even know he had.

“You make me wonder how I ended up with a delusional lunatic for a sister.“

Dead silence.

The two of you are just staring at each other now. Jace braces himself when you step away from your seat; he looks like he’s expecting you to slap him, like he’s preparing himself for the sting. 

And as much as you would like to do it, you just walk away.

You’re not even sure if Jace tries to stop you at first. Not sure if a servant tries to tries to grab you by the arm. You are running on pure adrenaline, pure buzzing energy, blood pumping like a battle cry in both eardrums. 

It takes until you’re exiting through the giant wooden doors to hear Jace yelling your name — and you loathe how worried he sounds, detest it — and then you’re practically running through the stone hallways. 

You want to go to bed. Shut everyone out and sleep until you awaken in a different world: one where you are not expected to get married to certain people, where your brother doesn’t expect you to be a person you can’t, and the 'losing an eye’ thing never happened, and … and it’s just you, Aemond, wrapped up in the sheets of your mattress. That’s all. 

The world is just cruel. 

Every step echoes as you make a beeline for your room. Tears slip down your cheeks and your fists quake; everything hurts. Emotionally, at least. You’re too worn out, too aggravated, too... mad? Hell, you’re not even sure if you’re still mad. The emotion that rips you apart right now feels more like an indigo-drenched sadness than a red-hot anger. 

It’s a strange, crushing feeling that has you stifling a sob while rounding a corner. 

But, as if the universe hates you, you catch a glimpse of that ethereal man — the fucking bane of your existence — walking down the same hallway. His back is to you, long white hair swishing with every stride he takes, and his posture is strong. 

You don’t want to ruin his day. Spoil the mood, or show how weak you can be.

You call out his name anyway, because there’s only one thing you can think of in this moment. A mantra:

I need you right now, My Prince.

I need you to truly look at me and understand me.

Aemond, I need you to see me.

The man turns then. He says your name, and you, who denied loving him, practically run and throw yourself into his arms. 

For a moment, Aemond doesn’t move a muscle; he’s confused, at a total loss. But then his palms slowly come down to your waist, supporting your body as he allows you to sniffle into his tunic. 

He doesn’t speak for awhile. Instead, he just looks down at you.

Your cheeks are dressed in tears that resemble droplets of honey. Your gardenia scented hair, pressed against his chest, is beautiful. He discovers an unexpected heaven amidst your grief. 

“He doesn’t want us to be together,” you try to whisper, but the words falter and trickle pitifully out of your mouth. They lack the power that you so urgently need. 

At first, Aemond is silent. He has no idea what you’re talking about; and then it clicks. Jace. 

Aemond has never been one to comfort others. You don’t really expect him to do much, honestly. But when he decides to speak, his tone is gentle and holds no judgment. “Your dear brother has found out about our arrangement, I presume.” 

You pull away slightly to stare up at Aemond. You drink in every plane of his face; those high cheekbones, his pretty lips, the silver hair that brushes the ridge of his jaw and the scar he hides. You want to absorb all of him. 

Aemond’s hands come to rest on your elbows, and then they slide all the way down your arms until he’s tenderly holding you by the wrists. He doesn’t give you a chance to answer before speaking more resolutely. “Did he hurt you?” 

“No — No, of course not,” you sniffle. Jace could be stubborn and fierce, but he would never lay a hand on you. “He was just being a brat. We got into an argument and he was ... he was mean.”

Aemond hums at that. “It must not have been too bad then. He is all bark and no bite,” he muses softly. Every syllable is gentle, each vowel soothing in its own right. He’s calm somehow.

It’s in these moments that you wish so deeply you could be like Aemond. Wish that you could stand your ground, despite wanting to run away. Wish that you could hold the barbs of someone’s anger in your palm and not get stung; not allow the sharp edges to slice under your skin and leave streams of blood in its wake. 

But you are not strong like him. 

With bated breath, you move to embrace Aemond once more, arms wrapping around his middle as you press your nose into the leather of his tunic. 

It doesn’t last long. 

Aemond leans into you, and then with both hands on your shoulders, gently tugs you away from his chest. You glance at him in confusion, and meet his gaze with an infantile glare. 

For a second you think he doesn’t want to hug you. That he’s about to chide you for being a big baby, for getting in a fight with your sibling and blowing things out of proportion. 

But then you quickly realize that he just wants to see your face. 

The truth is, Aemond doesn’t want you to hide in his arms. He doesn’t want you to bury your head into his chest and conceal your pain, or for you to dig your face into his clothes until each cheek is dry and you look composed again. 

He wants you to share every emotion with him openly, no matter how warped or ugly or bruised. 

Perhaps that’s what love is; recognizing someone's greatest vulnerability and still choosing to love them. 

It’s hard to place what emotion rests itself in Aemond’s eye after that, but whatever it is almost has you numb to how he’s holding both of your hands in his own. That is, until he trails a thumb over your knuckles. 

“Convince Jace, please,” you beg once more. The edges of your mouth start to turn downwards as you tear up again, and Aemond’s eye follows; he takes in your grief intently, and you are fully conscious of that fact. “Please. Show him you are worthy of my hand.” 

There’s a sort of surprise that swirls in his lilac gaze; however, his lips are in a straight line, his face nothing else but cold, and you can picture the war that rages inside his head. 

“I bear a hatred that could draw blood,” Aemond finally murmurs. “Those who do not deserve to be forgiven will not know my mercy. I will not betray my feelings to please others.”

“Try, Aemond. Please. If not for you and your sanity, do it for me.”

Aemond can only stare at you — his only love, his life, his breath of fresh air. The woman who he hopes will be his future wife despite your family’s distaste. He inhales deeply, chest rising and flattening the creases in his tunic, gaze roaming the tear-tracks on your face. And then he caves. 

But not before making a demand. 

“Do not cry, my love,” Aemond breathes. “It does not suit you.” 

And when you blink up at him so sweetly, nodding in a wordless vow, Aemond presses a kiss to the crown of your head. Then he kisses your left cheek, and the right, before slowly tracing his lips against your own. 

“Your body is mine,” He whispers into your parted mouth. “And I will find a way to claim it. They will have no choice but to accept me.” 

Aemond is a professional at pressing your buttons. It’d be a lie if you said it didn’t excite you; quickly, you capture his lips into a searing kiss. He returns the favor, knowing damn well that you want him, and yet he doesn’t tease in between kisses. He chooses tenderness over taunts just this once. 

The air is filled with a sentence unsaid: 

Touch my soul with warm words, and I shall do whatever you wish. 

[little-pondhead]

So, for the Supervillain Danny and Everlast Trio Villains Au's....

What about Jazz?

Since I understand everyone's villain alter ego is based around their trauma and becoming their own antithesis and what not, I'd like to think that Jazz's alter ego would be a bad girl, kinda like Ember and Kitty (the former who mind controlled her twice and the latter who almost took her place while slowly corrupting her), maybe with a hint of Spectra (the school councilor thing, the hospital thing, and that one time with all three of them).

Instead of being the nice, normal girl who tries to be perfect, she's a loose cannon who does all the wild teen stuff, doesn't care about anyone accept for those who are in her 'gang', and will absolutely resort to violence the first chance she gets. Maybe she also has some kind of mind control powers, given how these incidents relate to her being under someone else's control.

Maybe she doesn't come around as often, because she has college and the like, but once she does, things get messy as she takes the chance to let out all her school related stress.

you have read my m i n d

Jazz had almost no childhood since she helped raise Danny from a very young age. She's intelligent and respectful and really wants to be an excellent example for Danny, so she acts as such. Therefore, Jazz never got to go through her 'teenage rebellion' phase. She wears modest clothes and upholds a pretty solid moral code. So here I present Nightingale, the punk-rock social justice warrior who comes and goes like a hurricane. She takes on the name Nightingale to avoid confusion, but once the JL realizes she and Fenton are related, some of the members consider going on a very long vacation to another world so they don't have to deal with this shit.

Now for her powerset, I'm not entirely sure if she should play meta or not. It's a common trope in fics that Jazz has been ecto-contaminated from her parent's experiments, thus giving her some sort of body enhancement. I played on that to give her a set of ears and teeth that match Danny's. She may not have ghost powers, but if she's fighting alongside Team Phantom, she must have some freaky abilities, right? (I love the mind control idea, btw) I feel like Jazz would be the Exception, where she's obviously enhanced in some way, but it's not an obvious power she can consciously separate herself from. It's like trying to tell your body to stop using your eyes. Unless other outside forces are preventing it, Jazz can't really not use her enhanced strength or speed. It drives the JL nuts because either Nightingale is a very weak meta or just an Olympic-level teenage athlete, and no one will spill the beans.

Also, this is personal preference, honestly, but I think it'd be really fucking funny if the DC universe is where Jazz and Danny have all their sibling fights. At home, they have to put up a united front so their parents don't get suspicious and the house doesn't kill them. (Also so none of the rogues takes advantage of their anger at each other) But they're siblings. Even if Jazz and Danny are the best of friends, they have to have arguments over the stupidest stuff. That's practically rule number one of having a sibling. So they go there to blow off steam and duke it out like they've always wanted to. It's mostly to release tension and stress, but each fight is getting more and more elaborate, and this whole thing is ridiculous. None of the heroes get paid enough for this. They're just gonna sit back and watch the show.

[starlemonbunki]

In a dominant mood so here's how I think bsd men would act as subs

Atsushi

Would be a very obedient sub

Trusts you in every way imaginable

You know how parents tell you "well if your friend told you to jump off a bridge, would you do it?"??

Yea that's him

If you told him to do something stupid or dangerous whether in the bedroom or not he would immediately trust that you have a plan behind it (even if you actually don't, he doesn't know that)

Other than that, he's very anxious when it comes to PDA, at least at first

But once he gets used to it, and by that I mean used to the feeling of being loved, then he will slowly start warming up to and even asking for it

When it comes to sex, he can be even more bashful and awkward about it

He mostly whimpers and whines and it's not super loud, but if it does get to that point he's very self aware and scared of others hearing him, so he covers his mouth right away

I think he'd be most compatible with a more gentle top

He can't handle very heavy scenes and I can't imagine him having a very active libido

He has sex to express love and passion, not just for a quick fling that doesn't mean anything

Outside of the bedroom, he's very quiet about what goes on in there

Dazai likes to tease him about it and you love how his pale complexion turns into a pretty shade of red

Dazai

Oh this man is OBNOXIOUS

He's the type of sub that makes you wanna fuck him so hard he actually shuts the fuck up for a second

One of the brattiest of the bunch, for some reason has to turn anything and everything into a game of cat and mouse

Also one of the horniest, believe me you'll be drained DRY after like a week or so

This man's libido is UNMATCHED

He may be taller than you, smarter than you, and possibly stronger than you when it comes to his ability,

But in every other way you are in charge And some part of him always wants to challenge that

Loves to be paraded around like a showdog (but prefers the term "trophy wife")

He's a little princess and always gets what he wants

I think he'd fit best with a dom who could handle his.....special traits

He needs someone who won't get tired of him so quickly and leave, just like everyone else in his life did

But he also needs someone to put him in his place from time to time

Dealing with dazai isn't for the faint of heart, anyone who's done it before knows that

So maybe if you're strong enough, smart enough, and a little bit delusional and crazy, you could have this cute little former mafioso wrapped around your finger like a worm on a string <3

Fyodor

Tbh this one's the whole reason why I made this post in the first place😆

This one's also a little....different...from the others

And by that I mean he's worse

His brattiness doesn't come in the form of disobeying orders or having a fit in front of your friends

No, this one will purposefully pick you apart psychologically

Trying to get this man to behave will require a labyrinth of words, a battle of the minds

He needs someone who can challenge him, because if they don't, he wouldn't bother to be submissive towards them at all, they don't deserve it.

He's one half sickly and one half pride, so taking care of him isn't gonna be easy

Of course you'd have to know going in that Fyodor's self care is abysmal and as his dom you'd have to take responsibility for his health

Taking care of his pills, his diet, making sure he eats and sleeps on time, gets enough rest, drinks enough water, exercises, that's all on you from now on

But you do it cause you love him

Sometimes he'll be bratty and arrogant enough to take you for granted, and would snap at you and tell you he doesn't need someone to baby him when you just were trying to help

But after enough time, he'll realize he was wrong, and as his health depletes, he'll slowly start to inch towards you, asking for your help

You would make sure it gets to the point where he'd have to beg. Make him realize what it's truly like to not have you "distracting" him with your care and concern

And eventually, if he's put up a pathetic enough display for you, you'll hold him in your arms, warm chest comforting him as he leans his head and torso on it

You'll watch how he shivers each time he takes a breath, his eyes are glassy and staring at nothing, his hair is drowning in grease, and it's obvious he hadn't showered in days, but you don't mind

All of this means he's vulnerable, which means he's weak, which means he's malleable.

Malleable enough for you to mold into whatever you please.

Because the only person who could dominate the demon Fyodor is someone who could become the demon Fyodor.

Whether he knew it or not, you were just as sinister as he was, possibly even more.

And every breath he took was another foolish step into your web, a plan you had conducted just for him

So he can be as proud and smug as he wants, but at the end of the day,

You are in control.

Chuuya

It's kind of hard for me to decipher what kind of sub he'd be to be honest

I want to say he'd be a brat but that term doesn't seem to describe him exactly

Sure, he's got a lot of pride, so getting him to submit to you or even to simply let you take the wheel will be difficult.

He's too stuck in his old habits, too used to having to take care of everything, so being taken care of for a change will be a new feeling to him.

He's also scared to love you, scared to let himself bring another person into his heart, afraid of instead accidentally luring you to your death as he had done with so many others.

No, he's not ready to lose another person. Not again.

He's grown to see his love for others as a trap, a ploy, a misfortune. It was like a prophecy for someone's death.

But you, you were different from the rest.

You were strong. Strong enough to protect yourself, strong enough to stand your ground. In fact, you could probably even protect the gravity manipulator Chuuya Nakahara himself.

It took a long time for him to be ready. Ready to open himself up for you. But you let him take his time. You let him think things through. And despite everything, you were there.

You both sprouted a relationship neither of you thought you could do before

And the sex wasn't just sex to you two, no, it could be a distraction, a vacation, an escape, a break, an apology, you name it.

Sex would be a big part of you guys' relationship

I like to think that Chuuya is a lot hornier than he says he is, and also a lot more submissive

Learning that he was a sub was surprising for you, especially because of, well, everything about him

But that was cool for you, as you were vers, and you had to admit you loved the way he screamed and cried under you.

The look in his eyes, the blush in his cheeks, the spit dripping from the corners of his mouth, even the small wounds he had gotten from biting his lips so hard to keep in a moan was adorable

Fucking in his penthouse was great because he had red lighting in almost every room, giving it a sexy, moody vibe.

It also reminded him of his place. He may be rich, he may be a mafia executive, and he may have a couple dozen people under his command, but no matter where or what he is, he will always be a pathetic little whore for you.

You fuck him in his room to remind him his riches mean nothing. He means nothing. All he is is a slut, and he must be reminded of that.

I think he'd be best compatible with a quieter personality to counter his loud one, but I think that loud, brash personality is most present around Dazai. Though he can have a little bit of a temper from time to time, even around you

He needs someone who doesn't care about status or ranks, Port mafia executive or not, you'll fuck him like there's no tomorrow and once you're done he'll be clinging to you like a lost little dog.

Ranpo

Brat. Brat Brat Brat. NOTHING about this boy is topping.

I mean, I do see him as a switch, but in this case, he's the brattiest brat to ever brat.

Will require you give him sweets and cold drinks whenever he asks, will make you drive him places, teach him things and even fuck him when he's too lazy to do the fucking.

He'll be obnoxious all day and then look at you like he's done nothing wrong his whole life. Spoiled little shit.

He's exactly the type of sub you would fuck into submission until you hear a sorry or any sort of appropriate apology.

He likes to be fucked lying down, sometimes sitting and leaning against something, but sometimes you'll force him to sit on you and ride you up and down even though you know he hates it. You'll never hear the end of it from him, though.

He likes to be fucked while eating, too. You'll fuck him from behind with a hand out and spoonfeeding him cake, and the rapid shaking of your bodies and the table he's up against will leave traces of cake all over his chin and cheeks. He doesn't know if he wants cake or if he wants you to eat his cake. Either way, he wants and needs you bad.

I think he'd be best fit with a top who would usually just give in to all his demands and would be patient with his bratty personality, but knows when it's been taken too far. You'd be calm and gentle with him, but come nighttime, you're a beast in bed, making sure he makes up for everything he did in the office that day.

He's not the type to apologize I don't think, he'd definitely beg if it's gotten too much for him but an apology? That's asking too much. Just take the moans and cries and leave.

However, right afterwards he'd go back to his usual bratty self no matter how bad the punishment was. In couldn't have been that harsh anyway, as you could never say no to Ranpo's cute face.

Akutagawa

When I say this man is a Virgin I mean he's a VIRGIN VIRGIN.

As in as virgin as the virgin mother mary

He hadn't even had time for sex before you came along.

You taught him everything, even things about his own body that he didn't even know. Like how he doesn't like the feeling of frotting because he doesn't like how another man's dick is on his own. Or how he likes when you pump his cock slowly, especially since he's so new to the game that he couldn't handle more even if he tried. Poor boy😔

He finds it odd, the feeling of being pampered. Being provided with food everyday, a warm place to live, constant affection, he didn't know what to do with it. It was as if he was an alien studying earth and experiencing the most mundane things for the first time.

And the weirdest thing about it was, he liked it. He liked the feeling of being taken care of, being provided for and pampered, and it was odd. He wasn't sure if he even deserved such wonderful feelings.

When it comes to sex, you better believe this man's got some weird shame thing related to sex

He sees it as a filthy task that he, unfortunately, likes to partake in.

He's ashamed even bringing it up, let alone asking for it.

But once you get the memo you take action and calmly and gently take care of him

Akutagawa's been used to violence, been used to screams of pain and agony, but this? It's soft. It's sweet. It's tender. He's not used to it but part of him wants to be. He's never been so happy in his life.

He's not the type to whine and whimper so much like Atsushi, instead he'll let out a low grunt here and there and maybe throw in a moan somewhere too.

He's into the wildest things, most of which involving your ability with his. It's probably some weird psychological thing where he's associated his ability strength = worth thing to the bedroom which......isn't healthy.

But once you're done his sickly little body is spent, his already damaged lungs trying desperately to keep moving. You hold him over your shoulder, as being carried bridal style would mess with his pride. Arm wrapped around your shoulder and tugging at you inner arm, he leans into you the way he's never done for anyone before.

He feels odd now, as if he's just discovered something new. Learning and even participating in sex has left him with many questions, that hopefully you could answer.