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asherthehimbo · 1 year ago

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Outliving the stars | Choi San

synopsis: You've always felt a part of you was missing, the desire for something greater only being lessened when you were gazing at the stars. You know you lost something, someone, you just dont remember what, who. Maybe the astrology major your friend sent you on a blind date with has the answers.

Pairing: Choi San x Male!reader

Info: one shot, words(2.1K),

Trope: reincarnation, Immortal x mortal, hurt/comfort

Warnings: mentions of nightmares, anxiety, topic of death, suggestive jokes, it's said they have sex but no actual smut, injuries, birthmarks shaped like scars, insecurity, self scrutinizing, social anxiety, overthinking, talks of past lives

Song inspo: Burn out the stars - Bryce savage

It was at times like these that you wished you could punch your best friend. Wooyoung was sweet, but you swear he had it out for you, sending you out on a blind date with nothing but a first name. Now you were standing at the planetarium entrance like an idiot waiting for someone you didn't even know.

Wooyoung had pesterd you for three weeks until you finally gave in. He kept trying to set you up with one of his classmates, and you were too tired to register what you were agreeing to. "Come on [Name], you can't keep being hung up on some mystery guy from your dreams. San, on the other hand is perfect, broad shoulders, an astrology major, rich, handsome face, smooth voice and he's kind" Wooyoung rambled on as you were sitting in your dorm, trying to finish the economics paper you had that was due on Friday.

"Do you want me to go out with this guy, or do you want to do so yourself?" You asked him, only receiving a pillow to your face as a response. Sighing, you looked at Wooyoung, who was taking up your entire bed. "If I go on this date, would you let me finish my paper in silence?"

Wooyoung immediately jumped up from the bed. "YES, OKAY YAY!I'm gonna go tell San you agreed! Oh! This is gonna be so much fun! SATURDAY 1PM SHARP, " Wooyoung shouted while jumping around before sharply turning on his heel to sprint out of the room, leaving with a shout of "WEAR THOSE CUTE JEANS I BOUGHT YOU!"

You only sighed, turning back to your paper and relishing in the silence.

You did, in fact, end up wearing the jeans he bought you, black baggy jeans with white stars splattered on them, matched with your red converse, and a red hoodie.

You did not want to be here, it was cold, people were staring (probably because of the scar on your face, a voice in your head told you, you ignored it) and you were craving a strawberry refresher. You guess arriving an hour early wasn't the best course of action, but you were up early, not being able to sleep the night before.

Dreams of your faceless lover had once again plagued your mind. It had been a common occurrence ever since you turned 10. You would be cuddled up in the arms of a man you could not remember, but you knew him. In a soft grass field he would be holding you tightly, you would both be watching the stars, you listening as he points out different constellations, these dreams were safe, they made you feel at ease.

But all too often, these dreams would evolve into nightmares, the same 7 scenes playing out. Your therapist had said it must have been a physiological way to deal with your own insecurities. The birthmarks that littered your skin had always looked like scars. You remember talking to her when you were 12. She said it was your brain trying to justify the marks, trying to create a story for them.

You believed her. After all, she knew better, but these dreams just felt so real, so vivid. You would hear your own heartbeat slow down and hear the cries of your mystery lover as he holds onto you. You could feel the tears dripping from his face onto yours. No matter what turn these nightmares had, they always ended with you dying in his arms.

You guess Wooyoung had been right in his concern, as your best friend he knew first hand the effect these dreams had on you. The nights you wake up gasping for air, vomiting out your dinner, clawing at your neck because something in your throat is burning. The times you're awake while your consciousness is still trapped in whatever nightmare you were experiencing. He had been there since the age of 10, he had been there.

You rubbed together the two sleeves of your hoodie, starting to feel more uncomfortable as time passed by. People were walking past, laughing, and giggling at one another. You wondered what was so funny, what were they all laughing at? Were they laughing at you? no, you didn't do anything funny, did you? oh, it's your face, right? Your face is funny, it's ugly, creepy, the scar covering your eye, one you did not deserve. A mutated freak born with scars that were not earned a fake, a- "[Name]?" A hand on your shoulder disrupts your anxiety fueled thoughts.

You turn around to find a black haired man, he's a little shorter than you, although his shoulders are broad. Jawline sharp, eyes as soft as a warm blanket on a winter's night, despite the intimidating structure of the man, his eyes, his smile, his dimples, he seems inviting, familiar almost.

He stands smiling at you, the arm he used to grab your attention is hovering awkwardly in the air, his cheeks are flushed, a pink matching one of the familiar drinks in his hand. "Umm, I'm San? your date. " he seems unsure of himself, but you find it cute, having to suppress a giggle so as to not make him feel bad.

You give him a small smile as you mentally thank Wooyoung for choosing someone good looking,"Nice to meet you, San." You nod your head at him as you shift your weight between your feet. You're being so awkward right now, but something tells you that San doesn't mind.

Despite your lack of social skills, the interaction itself does not seem awkward. Although you can feel something straining it, you brush it off to first date jitters. "Oh!um I also got us some drinks, Wooyoung said you liked strawberry refreshes, although I don't know if he was messing with me. He has a tendency to do that lately, but um drink?" San asks as he lifts up the hand, holding two drinks questioningly. His shoulders seem to tense as he awaits your reaction.

"Woo didn't lie, I do like Strawberry refreshers, thank you" you nod your head at him, his shoulders relax as he lets out a breath of relief, he picks up the pink drink from the holder in his hand and gives it to you. Your fingers touch for a moment as you take the drink from him and you jump back a little, San doesn't seem all that surprised, but he chuckles "Static electricity's a bitch, huh?"

You don't think that's how it works, but you laugh along nonetheless. It's weird as you walk with San into the planetarium. You don't like new people, don't feel comfortable around them, yet with San, it's different. You feel safe with him. He feels so familiar.

You spend the day following San around the planetarium, he excitedly points out constellations, and you swear the fake stars above your head shine dimmer than the light in Sans eyes. Somewhere along the line, your hand had been intertwined with his, as a precaution to not lose one another, you told yourself.

The date ends when the sky outside matches the one in the planetarium, a dark purple background with little specks of light twinkling above you both. The date lasted the whole day and you were having so much fun you didn't even realize, Wooyoungs gonna kill you for not telling him how everything went immediately but you can't find it in yourself to care about the headache your best friend will inevitably give you tomorrow morning.

That night, you sit on your bed, smiling down at the goodnight text from San, despite him having wished you a goodnight merely a few hours before when he walked you to your dorm. That night is the first night you sleep peacefully, no dreams of your mystery lover, no dieing, no waking up in a cold sweat despite it being winter. Nothing

Instead that night you sleep, cuddled up with the tiny red star plushie that San won for you at one of the planetarium games, you named her 'astéri' the greek word for star. Also, the exact name you put as your contact for the man who won her for you.

Your relationship with San had been a fast development, one date, then two, then you start eating lunch together, he starts walking you to classes, he joins your friends and you on movie nights, he plays games with Yunho. San becomes a part of your life faster than you can imagine, and you don't even care.

It's on your hundred day anniversary, a hundred days of dates and hangouts, and obviously being together despite no official title, that San officially asks you to be his boyfriend.

It's an emotional ordeal. He made a picnic in his backyard, creating a fort where you could both lay down and watch the stars on the soft grass. It's summer now, much hotter than when you first met, you wear a red tank top. San has expressed his love for your collarbones before, and thinking back to the moment makes you blush.

He was a bit tipsy when he blurted it out, face flushed pink given the alcohol of the drinking game he had played with your friends earlier, the room was hot, filled with college boys and liquor, so of course you took off your jacket, San had started cheering, then giggling, talking about how much he liked your neck, your collarbones. You don't know if he remembers this moment, you hope he doesn't, it would save you the embarrassment.

San presents you with a necklace on the night of his confession, a black leather strap threaded through a red star that's rimmed with silver. On the back of the necklace, the name 'astéri' is carved, under it lies numbers which look like coordinates. You don't ask.

San slips the necklace around your neck, fingers trailing dangerously slow along your shoulders. You were scared at first, you liked San, loved him, as much as you trusted him, you were scared of what his reaction would be.

He may have seen you in strappy clothing before, but he's never seen the extent to which your birthmarks your scars cover your body. The worst of them were located on your waist.

Despite your hesitance, the way San looks at you after you agree to be his, after you agree to let him be yours, it makes you want to kiss him, let him embrace every part of you and let you do the same to him.

He looks at you like you yourself were the star and who were you to deny a mortal access to a celestial entity?

That night, you learn the true extent of San's love for you, the way he trails his fingers overy every inch of your skin, extra soft kisses placed on the marks littering your body, he's gentle almost as if he knows the phantom pains they bring you, despite you never having told him.

That night you and San become, you and San, under the stars. On the soft blanket he laid out in his backyard as the warm wind of summer nips at your exposed skin.

It's when you're lying down, breathless, in between San's arms that he starts talking, answering your question from earlier that night. The numbers on the back of the necklace, the coordinates, are of a star San bought in your name. He literally bought you a star and named it 'astéri'.

"You deserve the whole galaxy, and yet I do not have the power to retrieve it for you. This way, you can have a piece of the outer world, and it can have a piece of you"

You don't think you've ever felt so loved in your life. You had fallen for San so quickly, so hard. It's hard to imagine a time when he wasn't in your life, despite the fact that you hadn't known him long, everything with him just felt so right.

You were sure you were meant to be with San in every lifetime, meant to spend every moment of your life with him. When you told him this, it had been the first time you ever saw him cry, genuinely cry. It was as if your words affected him more than you knew. You're sure they did.

That's one thing you never did understand about San, he has told you everything about himself, but you still felt as if something was missing, a piece of information locked away, it was like he was guarding it, scared you would find out. He thought he hid it well, but you prided yourself on knowing people, knowing your boyfriend. You trusted him. He would tell you when he was ready.

You and San would watch the stars burn out together, watch the world fall in each others arms, protected by a love so pure that the only thing left in the universe would be you and San

Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland @itsvxlentine @liyatime @hetalia-pol @mommahwa1117

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psychedelic-pebble · 5 months ago

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Seven Minutes in Heaven

Warnings: NSFW content - mdni.

Pairing(s): College!Stanford Pines x Reader

Summary: You hate parties, but somehow get roped into the biggest one at Backupsmore University. Luckily for you, things take a turn in your favor.

If there’s one thing you’ve always hated, it was parties. They’re crowded, stuffy, and loud. But this was college, and despite your evident discomfort around them, you’re easily peer pressured. You received an invitation to a house party, a house that one of the rich kids owned. His parents were gone for the weekend, and no matter how hard you protested, you were somehow roped into going.

Apparently, they didn’t really care who they invited; they just wanted to have a lot of people there. You don’t actually have that many friends to go with; in retrospect, you actually only had one friend at college, who happened to be the reason you were roped into this whole ordeal.

You don’t know what to wear; you don’t really go to parties. You don’t “party.” You decide to keep on your day clothes: ripped jeans and a baggy sweatshirt. Sitting at the couch of your dorm thinking of any excuse to ditch, you hear a knock at your door. Fuck. Too late. You begrudgingly open the door and smile awkwardly.

“Hey, Fidds.” You give a nervous half-smile, placing a hand on the base of your neck.

“Hey! Ya decide not to back out after all?” Fiddleford, AKA your only friend at uni, beams at you. He’s also not dressed in anything fancy: just his normal sweater and jeans.

“Too late to back out now anyway.” You sigh, closing and locking the door behind you. You place your keys in your pocket and follow him down the hallway. “I’m not really the partying type, you know.”

He gives your shoulder a light punch. “Aw, c’mon, it’ll be fun!” He leans down a little, just enough to lower his voice and whisper, “Plus, I dragged Ford inta coming.”

You’re not as close to Ford as he was, but Fiddleford could definitely tell how you felt about his roommate. He was pretty much the only one you’d opened up to about your feelings towards Stanford. You two were friends, but not much more than that.

As soon as you hear Fiddleford say that, you choke a little and glare at him.

“You didn’t.”

“I sure did! It’ll give y’all a better chance to get to know each other, too!” God, if it weren’t for the fact he was your friend, you would’ve strangled this farm boy.

With a rough clearing of your throat, you two begin walking down to the house where this party is supposed to be happening. It isn’t far from campus, maybe a fifteen minute walk. Most of it is spent making idle chit-chat with Fiddleford and talking about trivial things.

You can tell this is the right house from the get-go, if the blaring music is anything to go by. Looking around the small crowd scattered around the front lawn, you make out a figure standing by the curb seemingly waiting for you. It hits you that it’s Stanford after a moment, and you feel your face embarrassedly flush. He grins and approaches the two of you.

“Hey, you made it!” He smiles at you and Fiddleford, keeping both hands in his pockets. “I was starting to wonder if you had set me up.”

Fiddleford laughs, sparking up a conversation while you silently panic and stare off into space. Ford was wearing a white button down that hugs his form a little too nicely, and a pair of black slacks. You find yourself idly staring at his chest more than once.

God, you need a drink.

“Hey, uh, not to be a buzzkill and ruin the curb-party,” you say, disappointed with the way your voice wavers, “but shouldn’t we head inside?”

Both men stop their conversation and nod at you. You give an awkward grin in return and start walking inside, with both of them following suit. You push open the front door and immediately your ears are assaulted by the blaring music; you wince and continue forward, trying not to let it overwhelm you just yet.

“I’ll, uh, just be over here.” You gesture towards the drinks, trying your best to play it cool.

“Sounds good. We’ll be here if ya need us.” Fiddleford winks at you and you flash him an uneasy smile in return.

Your feet move faster than your thoughts, and before you know it you’re pouring yourself a drink, with more alcohol than juice. Just to ease the nerves a little, you think. You take a large swig from your red plastic cup, choking a little but swallowing it down and coughing loudly. This really was not going to be a good night for you.

As the party continued, you basically just hover around from corner to corner trying to find your friends. They’ve completely disappeared, and it didn’t help that you were more than a little tipsy.

“Hey!” Some girl suddenly shouts, causing everyone in the room to turn around to find the source of the call. “We’re playin’ seven minutes in heaven, who wants in?”

Great. You really don’t want to stick around for that, but before you know it, you’re being dragged along with the crowd. You stumble, clumsily looking around before realizing everyone is starting to sit in a circle. It’s too late to leave without further embarrassing yourself, so you sit too. You look around nervously, trying to take in the options for who you might be forced into a closet with. Your heart drops when you see Stanford sitting right across from you on the other side of the room, right next to Fidds. He looks just as nervous as you feel. You’re regretting going to this party more and more.

“A’ight, here’s the rules!” The girl from earlier yells, grabbing an empty beer bottle and holding it up. “We spin this and whoever it lands on has to go into that closet together.”

You are not drunk enough for this.

A couple rounds pass with most people opting to flirt, talk, or make out in the closet and then it's suddenly your turn. You’re passed the bottle and stare at it with malice, clutching it in your hands before the crowd starts urging you on to spin it. You notice Ford looking at you; he gives an awkward smile and looks away.

Okay, fuck it, you think. You place the bottle down and give it a good spin, and once it slows to a stop, you follow the direction of the neck and freeze. Once again, Stanford. Fucking, Pines. What are the chances??

You swallow nervously and look around at everyone, wondering if it’d be too late to back out. Fiddleford gives Stanford a shove, causing him to stumble forward a bit and look at you. He gives you a nervous look, standing up and waiting for you to follow.

Despite everything screaming for you to run, flee, and get away, you stand up and brush yourself off. You wobble a little with the alcohol in your body still prevalent. You’re suddenly being shoved towards the closet before you can protest, with Ford not far behind having Fidds pushing him on.

You’re both pushed into the closet and the door shuts behind you. You let out an embarrassed groan as your eyes adjust to the dark. You can make out Ford standing close by, fidgeting with a button on his shirt. There was barely enough room for both of you to fit in here.

“Ford,” you sigh, defeated, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even come out tonight.”

He looks at you and swallows nervously. “It’s okay, I know Fidds probably pressured you like he did with me. People like us don’t get invited to parties very often.”

It's deafeningly silent for a few moments while you gather your thoughts.

“You don’t seem like the partying type.” You shrug, leaning back against the wall.

“Neither do you,” he laughs, “yet here we are.”

You’re so close you can smell the alcohol on his breath. Seems like he’s been drinking too. Your face burns a little; thank god it’s dark in here.

“What do you want to do?” Ford asks, leaning against the other wall.

“What is there to do in this situation?” A sigh escapes you and you can’t help but cover your face. “Most people get drunk and have drunk sex in a closet. It's stupid.”

Ford grimaces and looks away. “Even if it’s someone they don’t know. I mean, at least we know each other, and I wouldn’t be completely opposed to it, but-“ He cuts himself off. Oh God.

You feel like you’re gonna explode. What did he just say?? The two of you share a flustered glance and you bite your lip in thought.

“Stanford, I, uh.” You try to think of something, anything to say. He grits his teeth and covers his face in shame.

“Sorry. I think the alcohol is getting to me.” He frowns, dragging a hand down his face.

You can’t think of anything to say, so you let your body speak for you. You walk forward and grab his button down, yanking him down into you and smashing your lips into his. He squeaks in surprise with his hands trembling and hovering just above your hips. You pull away and look at him, embarrassed.

“Sorry,” you mumble, backtracking and attempting to pull away.

His hands find your waist suddenly and pull you closer, a huff escaping him when you press up against his torso. “It’s- It's fine.”

You share an embarrassed look, and you feel him shift nervously, but he doesn’t let go. You look down and your jaw almost falls off; he’s completely hard in his slacks.

“Holy shit.” You breathe, looking back up at him. Ford averts his gaze to the other side of the closet, slightly releasing his hold on your hips, but before he completely lets go you decide to let yourself be bold. “Want me to uh, help with that?”

He blinks and turns back to you, seemingly taken aback. “What do you-?”

Not giving him a chance to answer, you reach your hands down and fumble with his belt. He flinches slightly, obviously not used to the contact, and you stop, looking back at him.

“Is that okay?” You bite the inside of your lip nervously, wondering if you’ve just screwed the whole thing up.

“I mean, I, uh.” He sighs and lets out a small groan. “I don’t really do flings. I want there to be something behind it.”

“What if there is something behind this?” The words come out faster than you can think them over. Ford feels his breath catch in his throat and he looks at you with an almost pleading expression.

“What’re you saying?”

“I’m in love with you, dumbass.” You laugh nervously, attempting to downplay the situation.

Stanford swears under his breath and looks everywhere but you. “I, uh, I have feelings for you too.”

Your heart swells in your chest and you grin dumbly, clumsily unbuckling his belt with shaking hands. You look up at him with an expression that asks, “is this okay?” and Ford looks down at you and nods his head.

“Please, I need you.” That's all it takes for you to sink down to your knees and pull his slacks down along with his boxers. His dick nearly smacks you in the face as it springs out of his boxers, already hard and leaking. You hadn’t even touched him yet.

“Oh, wow, uh,” your breath hitches and you blink a couple times, “that's, wow, haha.”

He covers his face with a hand embarrassedly, too scared to look down at you. You smile at his shyness, determined to break it and make him into a mess for you.

You wrap a hand around his cock and give an experimental tug, causing him to hiss through gritted teeth and whimper softly. You think over your options, eventually landing on taking it further and wrapping your mouth around him. You take the head into your mouth and he straight up moans, slapping a hand over his mouth and running the other through your hair.

“Shit,” you hear him whisper, trying to keep himself quiet so as to not alert anyone else at the party, “that’s- God, that’s good.”

Your chest swells with pride and you take him a little deeper, experimentally pressing the flat of your tongue against the underside of his cock. His hand trembles and grips your hair. You pull away , looking up at him.

“You can be rough, Ford. It’s okay.” You pant, taking him back into your mouth. He nods and moves his hips forwards ever so slightly while gently pushing the back of your head trying not to hurt you. How cute.

You move suddenly, taking the whole thing down your throat, and he lets out a strangled cry, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of his bottom lip to try and quiet himself. He can’t help himself anymore; he fucks your mouth a little harder and begins moving your head with his hand; you don’t mind.

He’s never felt this way before; his heart is pounding and he feels like he’s on fire. He can’t control himself; his fingers grip your hair hard and pull you down onto him while he starts fucking your throat like he’s gone feral. You place both hands on his thighs while he does so, feeling the way they tense and relax with every thrust.

The noises he’s making go straight through you, causing you to heat up and moan around him. The vibration makes him groan and fuck your throat faster- he’s getting close, you can tell.

“C..Can I cum in your mouth?” He asks shakily, slowing his thrusts to give you a chance to respond.

You nod feverishly around him; you let him take control as he loses himself and shoves your head down in a fast-paced rhythm while thrusting his cock into your mouth. The whine he lets out is downright pornographic, biting down on the palm of his hand to silence it while he shoves himself as deep as possible and cums down your throat. You nearly choke but manage to keep it together as you feel it down your throat, filling your mouth and dripping down your chin.

He stays there for a second before pulling back to let you breathe, and you cough slightly at the movement. You wipe off your mouth with your sleeve, not caring if it’s gross at the moment.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” Stanford leans down and places a hand on your shoulder. You shake your head.

“No, just not used to that.” You weakly say, your throat still raw.

It’s just then that you realize there’s been someone banging on the door for the past few minutes that neither of you picked up on.

“It’s been like, fifteen minutes, are y’all okay?”

It’s Fiddleford’s voice. You and Stanford exchange a glance and you stifle a laugh.

“Yeah, we’re fine.” You call back, standing up and brushing yourself off. Stanford fumbles with his pants, pulling them up and tucking himself back into his boxers. You open the door and look at Fiddleford with a sheepish grin, while Stanford exits the closet behind you and clears his throat. Fiddleford raises an eyebrow and looks at the both of you. Everyone else at the party is staring.

“Y’all look like hell.” He jokes and punches Stanford’s shoulder gently. “What’d y’all get up to in there anyway?”

You glance away and Stanford gives him an awkward smile. You hear the crowd watching you collectively give an “ooooh!”

“You don’t wanna know.” You eventually manage to say. Fidds gives you a knowing look and grins.

“Y’all together now?” He crosses his arms and surveys the both of you.

Stanford shrugs, looking at you and back to Fiddleford.

“I guess you could say that.” You laugh a little, shoving your hands in your sweatshirt pockets. You’re gonna have to wash it when you get home.

Thanks for reading!! I also uploaded this on AO3 if you’d like to read it there.

divider creds to @cafekitsune !!

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isaacarellanesismyhusband · 6 months ago

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cute

pair: tom!Peter Parker x reader

summery: Peter tries to ask y/n(she/her) out but he gets all flustered and shy and stumbles in words a lot but she thinks it's cute

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Peter Parker was not nervous. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself as he wiped his clammy hands on his jeans for the hundredth time. It was just Y/N. Y/N, who he’d known for years. Y/N, who had the best laugh and always knew when he needed a little extra help in math. Y/N, who was sitting right in front of him, completely unaware that Peter’s heart was doing somersaults.

He could totally do this. He had to do this. After all, it wasn’t like he could keep accidentally spilling his feelings during every awkward conversation they had. She glanced up from her notebook, her lips curling into a soft smile as she caught him staring. “Hey, you good, Peter?”

“Y-yeah!” he stammered, his voice coming out a little too high. “Totally! Why wouldn’t I be good? I’m great, actually.”

Her eyebrows raised slightly, amusement flickering across her face. She had that effect on him — making him feel both comfortable and utterly flustered at the same time.

Peter bit his lip, silently urging his brain to function. It wasn’t like he was trying to ask her to solve a quantum physics equation. All he needed to do was ask her out. Simple. Easy. Just six words: “Do you want to go out?”

But of course, nothing with Peter Parker was ever that simple.

“So, um, Y/N,” he began, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, “I was thinking... or, well, not thinking — I mean, I do think. A lot, actually. But, uh, I’ve been, you know, noticing things. Like, um, we’ve been friends for a long time, right? And, uh, I was wondering if— if maybe, like, sometime if you’re not too busy, or, um, even if you are busy, I mean, I’d understand if you are — I mean, you’re always busy, not that it’s a bad thing! You’re just really... uh... organized? No, that’s not the word…”

Y/N blinked, watching him with that same gentle smile, patiently waiting for him to continue. Peter felt like his brain was short-circuiting.

“But what I’m trying to say is,” he inhaled sharply, his heart hammering in his chest, “would you— do you want— would you maybe want to, like, do something? With me? Together? As in... not as friends... I mean, we can still be friends, obviously! I just... like, more than friends?”

Peter squeezed his eyes shut, cringing at his own stumbling. This was going horribly. Why couldn’t he just speak like a normal human being?

When he finally dared to open his eyes, Y/N’s expression hadn’t changed. She was still smiling, her gaze warm and kind, but there was something else there too. Something soft and almost... endeared?

Peter’s heart skipped a beat. Was she laughing at him?

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, rubbing his face with his hands. “That was a mess. I’ll just—”

“Peter,” Y/N interrupted gently.

He froze, his hands still half-covering his face as he peeked at her through his fingers. “Y-yeah?”

“Are you trying to ask me out?” she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice, though her eyes were filled with nothing but kindness.

Peter felt his entire face flush. “Y-yes?”

Her smile widened, and she tilted her head slightly, biting back a laugh. “And you want me to say yes, right?”

He nodded furiously, mentally kicking himself for being so obvious.

“Well...” Y/N paused, dragging out the silence just enough to make his heart race even more. “In that case, yes. I’d love to.”

Peter blinked, his brain struggling to catch up with her words. “Wait... really?”

She laughed softly, reaching out to gently nudge his shoulder. “Yes, really. I think it’d be fun. You know, us... together. Not as just friends.”

For a moment, Peter could only stare at her, his mind trying to process the fact that she had just said yes. She said yes. She wanted to go out with him. His heart was doing backflips again, but this time, it felt more like excitement than nervousness.

“I— Wow, okay!” he blurted out, a huge, goofy grin spreading across his face. “I mean, that’s awesome. Really awesome. I didn’t mess it up?”

Y/N shook her head, that familiar sparkle in her eyes. “You didn’t mess anything up, Peter. You’re kinda cute when you get all flustered.”

His heart just about exploded at that, and he quickly glanced away, trying — and failing — to hide the growing blush on his cheeks. “R-really?”

She nodded, biting her lip as if she was holding back more teasing remarks. “Yep. But next time, you can just ask, you know? No need for the whole word jumble.”

“I’ll remember that,” Peter mumbled, still grinning like an idiot.

As they sat there, with the comfortable silence settling between them, Peter couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest guy in the world. He didn’t know how he’d managed to pull this off, but somehow, he had. And when he finally worked up the courage to glance back at her, Y/N was still smiling at him like she knew something he didn’t — like maybe, just maybe, she’d felt the same way all along.

This was going to be the start of something amazing. He just knew it.

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psychedelic-ink · 2 years ago

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𝐎𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 5.6k

chapter summary: With Sarah at a sleepover, you, Joel and Tommy get together late to paint the now empty room, but with a distressing call from Sarah, Joel leaves to pick her up. You're just surprised as him when Sarah asks for you specifically. Later on, you accidentally see something that was meant for Asha's eyes only.

warnings: sarah gets her period for the first time so first-time period talk, nude photo (joel's), female masturbation (reader), feelings of loneliness (reader)

Chapter Four || Chapter Six

It’s been two weeks since Asha became a part of Joel’s life. They were more similar to what he initially had thought. For starters, neither of them talked about their families or upbringings. It was from Tommy that Joel learned that her parents still resided in India and that she came here alone, unsupported for the most part.

Joel, however, didn’t really have much family to talk about even if he wanted to. He only had Tommy and Sarah. He mentioned them a total of two times; one because Sarah got sick at school and he had to go and get her, meaning he had to cancel his lunch with Asha. And the second was when he showed up late one night with a black eye due to Tommy getting under the skin of the wrong crowd. That night he had thought of going to you instead, but then decided against it. The next day he learned that you cleaned up Tommy’s wounds— it shouldn’t have made his heart twinge with jealousy, but it did.

They used each other, Joel and Asha, at least that was what he felt, and it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. They enjoyed each other's company, had fun together, slept together. She made him aware of things that he wasn’t even aware of and vice versa. Asha never had the desire to talk about the future or asked to come over. Her apartment was just fine, and they often met up there instead of anywhere else. She never asked about his personal life.

But that all changed as Joel was driving her from work to her home.

“Tommy talks a lot about this girl,” she muses, smiling lightly. “Your neighbor I think? He came and ask me for room decor tips, it was cute.”

“That’s the one,” Joel answers, shifting in his seat. “I knew he wasn’t clever enough to think of all of that on his own.”

“He did come up with the color himself, so it wasn’t all me.”

“He’s been braggin’ a lot, it’s annoyin’”

She presses a hand on his thigh, squeezing, she drags her fingers up the seam of his jeans. “Come on, Joel. He’s just happy. I think she’s good for him.”

“They’re both good for each other.” he nods, ignoring her hand resting right below his pelvis. “I’m actually heading there after dropping you off, you wanna come? I’m sure she’ll appreciate more female company.”

She laughs and pulls her hand back to her lap, “Just because we both have vaginas doesn’t mean we’ll get along,” Asha hums, pulling her bag up from between her legs. “However, I do think we would get along. Sadly, I have an assignment due and need to finish at least most of it before you come over.”

“Ah that’s right,” he pouts, annoyed at himself. “Sorry I forgot.”

“It’s okay, I forget half the things you do.”

“Is that normal for couples?”

She mulls over his question for a while, lips moving from side to side, a tick that she did whenever she was cooking up something clever. Then she stills, a wide smile spreading across her face.

“I think for us it is.”

Joel couldn't agree more, to be honest. He taps his thumbs against the steering wheel, pulling into her drive-thru. She quickly presses her lips into his cheekbone and he returns in like. Before she leaves, Asha’s hand stills at the handle, briefly turning to him.

“By the way did you do that thing I asked you?”

“Fuck,” he heaves out, letting his head drop. “I did, but I forgot it at home. I’ll bring it later tonight, promise.”

“I’ll be waiting with bated breath, Joel Miller,” she grins. “Who’s looking after Sarah?”

“She’s staying at her friends' tonight. Girls' night. She forced me to bake brownies.”

“Never pinned you down for a chef.”

“I’m not. We burned the first tray.”

You're feeling unreasonably happy. It’s a welcomed feeling, a soft tingle that starts from your toes, blossoms across your skin, and ends at your lips, forming a sheepish smile. You’re leaning against the doorframe looking at the now-empty room. You and Tommy had spread newspaper all over the floor, both of you wearing your scrappiest of clothes.

Tommy opens a can of paint and starts mixing it with a wooden stick.

“What are you doing that for?”

Tommy turns to you, a grin on his face. "Well sweetheart, we can't just slap this paint on the walls. We need to mix it thoroughly to get the perfect consistency. This ain’t like one of your paintings."

You tilt your head, your eyebrow raising, an amused smile blossoms over your lips. "First of all, we do need consistency too. And what's the perfect consistency to paint a wall? It’s a wall, shouldn’t be that hard."

Tommy dips the wooden stick into the can and lifts it out, letting the excess paint drip back into the can. "It should be smooth and creamy, not too thick and not too thin. You don't want it to be runny, or it will drip all over the place, but if it's too thick, it won't spread evenly."

He starts stirring the paint in a circular motion, his wrist moving in a steady rhythm. The sound of the stick scraping against the bottom of the can fills the room, creating a soothing hum.

"As you mix the paint," he continues, "you should periodically lift the stick out of the can and let the paint drip back in. That way, you can see if it's the right consistency. If it's too thick, you can add a bit of water to thin it out, and if it's too thin, you can add a bit more paint."

You nod, taking mental notes. "Got it. Smooth and creamy.”

Tommy grins. "Exactly, creamy is preferable. It responds better."

Your cheeks heat up at the response. Something about the way he rolls his tongue over the words make goosebumps rise on your skin, a tender shiver coursing through your body. With a soft shudder, you wrap your arms around yourself.

“When do you think Joel is coming over?”

“Don’t know. I think he’s with Asha.”

“Asha,” you repeat, no emotion behind the words but still, you feel the corner of your lips quivering. “Do they get along well?”

Tommy shrugs and slowly gets up, “I guess. Joel isn’t really the type to kiss and tell you know? And Asha…well, I guess it’s safe to say she’s pretty much the same.”

“Basically perfect for each other.”

“I mean, I probably wouldn’t go that far,” Tommy answers, scratching the back of his head. “Being so similar ain’t always a good thing.”

Silence follows and you can vaguely hear a car pulling in next door, must be Joel. Thoughts wildly swirling in your head, you want to take this opportunity to ask about Sarah’s mother, something Joel never talks about, and also something Sarah never mentiones. You lick your lips, nails digging into your forearms.

“Does it bother you?”

The question takes you by surprise, you blink before answering.

“Excuse me?”

“Does it bother you that he’s with someone?”

You try to keep your shock to a minimum. Tommy’s gaze reminds you of the yellow gaze of a hawk, piecing, overly observant. You swallow and let out a laugh with a desperate need to lighten the heavy air circling you both. You shake your head, walking up to Tommy, you give him a gentle pat with the back of your hand.

“Why would that bother me? I’m just making conversation.”

Tommy’s shoulders relax, dropping substantially. You’re surprised you hadn’t noticed how tense he was before.

“Sorry, I was just thinkin’ too much.”

Before you can answer a loud knock startles you both. “Must be Joel.

“You go, I’ll open the rest of the cans.”

Joel looks out of breath when you open the door for him, his chest heaves and he staggers forward, bracing himself by holding both knees.

“Didn’t mean to be late,” he says. “But I brought whiskey.”

“Is that why you went to your place first?”

He closes the door behind him, “You heard that?”

“Saw the lights.”

You notice a magazine in his hands but fail to see the title, it’s rolled up. In the other he has the bottle and you take it from him, heading to the kitchen, he follows.

“I also had to pick up somethin’ I promised Asha. I’m meetin’ up with her after this.”

Your chest tightens and you roll your shoulders to ground yourself before reaching to get three glasses. “Isn’t that going to be late?”

“I ain’t five.” he answers with a low chuckle. “But yeah it’s late but she has work to do and I promised you lot I’d be here.”

“You didn’t have to come. You can go.”

You wince at your own wording. It definitely came out harsh, no question about it. Taking a deep inhale, you feel the coolnes of the kitchen counter under your fingers, holding on to it. Joel’s presence looms near, his hand touching the small of your back. He’s not holding the magazine anymore.

“Are you alright darlin’?” he asks with a hint of worry. He drags his fingers up your spine, a sudden heat coils in your stomach. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m happy to be here, you know that.”

“I do, sorry,” you mutter, fingers grasping two glasses before pulling away. “Tommy’s in the room, making the paint all creamy and stuff.”

“He’s doing what now?”

When you look at him all the happiness from before comes surging back, he has the most horrified, flabbergasted expression you’ve ever seen. The first hints of laughter come out in short bubbles, and as Joel continues to stare, you burst, loud, chest-rattling sounds of joy clawing out of your lungs. His shocked expression shifts into a happy one, a grin playing at the side of his lips.

“I keep tellin’ him to stop sayin’ that,” he clicks his tongue. “I keep tellin’ him ‘saying smooth is enough’ he never listens.”

“It did make me laugh a lot though, so maybe it’s not so bad that he says that.”

“If it made you laugh it definitely ain’t a bad thing,” he answers, taking the bottle and heading toward the room. “I love hearin’ you laugh.”

You force your legs to move despite wanting to stop and stare behind him as he disappears through the hall. First the kiss on the cheek, and now this. Blood pools under your fingernails, confusion makes your head spin—but you still continue to walk. The thoughts that began to form quickly disappear when you enter the room, you see Joel leaning over Tommy.

“Why do you still use the word creamy?” he asks, hands in the air. “Why?”

“It’s a fun word,” Tommy answers, eyes finding yours mid sentence and winks.

Your mind races but you smile anyway. Tommy’s bizarre question from earlier must’ve riled me up, you think, stepping inside. There’s no logical reason why Joel dating Asha would bother you, he doesn’t belong to you, hell, you’re not even that close. You’re just acting up because him and Tommy are the first friends you made when you moved here. Just some friendly overprotectiveness, that’s all, you would act the same if Tommy was dating someone.

You nod as a response to your thoughts, yes, you definitely would act the same.

“Are you possessed or somethin’ what’s going on with you?”

You flinch at the question and turn to Tommy, he has that familiar lopsided smile, eyes amused.

“I’m good, I was just thinking of something.”

You don’t miss the way Joel looks at you, worry crossing his face, but you act as if you didn’t see him. Taking a deep breath, you slap your hands together.

“So, where do we start?”

The room heavily smells of paint. Toxicity is slowly inhaled through your nostrils, burns your throat, and swirls in your lungs. You feel slightly queasy. Joel is sitting across from you with his legs outstretched and hands palms pressed into the newspaper-covered floors to keep himself upright. Tommy has his legs crossed, he leans forward to grab a piece of chocolate. And you. You have his jacket thrown above your shoulders, the night chill settling easier now that the room is empty and the walls wet with paint.

While Tommy leans to grab the piece, his shirt rolls up his waist, you notice a tiny, crooked bullseye tattoo with two circles and a dot. Fascinated by this new discovery, you poke it, and, essentially, him. He flinches, giving you an almost offended look as he turns around.

“The hell are you doin’?” he covers the patch of skin with his hand.

“You have a tattoo.”

It’s a statement. Joel gives you two a crooked grin as he takes a sip from his glass. Tommy raises an eyebrow, a small dimple forming on his right cheek as he smiles.

“So? Just because I have a tat doesn’t mean you can poke me.”

“Sorry, I just didn’t know you had one.” your lips crack a smile. “It’s cute.”

You notice the soft flush coloring his cheeks, but you swiftly ignore it when Joel speaks, his voice low and scratchy from the late hour— and from inhaling the paint, probably.

“Tommy had the bright idea to be a tattooist when we were in high school. He begged for a kit every year for his birthday, and one year I actually managed to get together a bit of cash to buy him one of them shit stick and poke sets.”

“Awww, that’s adorable,” you grin, playfully shoving your shoulder into Tommy’s. The younger Miller shook his head, averting his eyes from his brother. “I’m assuming you got a tattoo too, right Joel?”

“No.”

Tommy scoffs at the sudden denial, he accusatorily points the piece of chocolate at his brother, then shoves it into his mouth, “Come on now, don’t be shy. Show off my masterpiece.”

“Some masterpiece,” he grunts, rolling his eyes. “But fine.”

You’re too stunned to actually notice the small patch of inked skin when he lifts his shirt, your mouth dry as sandpaper. He also has a crooked bullseye, a bit darker in shade compared to Tommy’s. The shape is right above his ribs, to the side of his torso. Some part of you wants to touch it as well, to follow the round pattern with the tips of your fingers but you fight the urge.

“Cool,” you say unintelligently and he releases the shirt, covering his skin once more. You turn your head to Tommy. “Why did you stop?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. I kind of just did.”

“Could be because you decided to dive head first into a war.” Joel says, with a fresh sounding bitterness.

Tommy’s shoulders raise, his brown eyes a shade darker with the glare pointed directly at his brother. Family is never easy, no matter how close or loving. You know that Tommy is riddled with regret much like your own brother, though at least Tommy had the sense to get out before falling in completely. You place a hand on Tommy’s thigh and squeeze, your heart breaking instantly at the way his eyes soften when he looks at you.

“If you decide to ever get back into it, I’d be happy to draw you up some designs.”

“If that means you’re gonna get back into drawin’ again sure, I’ll get back into tattooing. I just need to find that old set.”

“You’re not using me to experiment again,” Joel grins. “Just sayin’”

Getting back into drawing. Seriously how long has it been? Has it been long enough that it was even obvious to Tommy and Joel? You had done a couple of sketches, not really anything riveting. The end product always resembled either a dark hole or a dark room of some kind. It was like a manifestation of your thoughts, complicated, scratchy, overlapping. A sea of gruesome lines.

For you, painting has always been about expressing yourself in ways you couldn’t imagine. It could be a purple cat staring into a well. A city in ruins standing at the edge of a leaf. Sometimes it could be as simple as a girl in a hallway, threading upon a red carpet. Right now is a perfect time to express yourself. The pain, the void. But you can’t bring yourself to lift a brush or a pen. It’s too much. No image is clear enough for you to put on a canvas. Despite how complicated it looks, you feel that in the end art should be simple to make. Your hand should move in fluid motions, it shouldn’t be a struggle against waves of fear.

“Hey,” Tommy touches your cheek, for some reason, you lean into the touch and the same fingers slide to the back of your head, giving your scalp a pleasant scratch. “Are you good?”

“I was just thinking,” you answer, eyes momentarily finding Joel. He looks stiff as a rock. “I miss painting.”

“Then paint,” Joel says. “What’s stopping you?”

“Myself. I didn’t have this problem before but now I feel stuck. Everything comes to me all at once and all that combined results in an empty canvas.”

“What if we gave you something to draw?” he asks, earning a confused look from both Tommy and yourself. He smooths his thumb over the corner of his lip. “Like, a single thing. Maybe it can ease you in.”

“Did you have a suggestion?”

“A butterfly.”

Your eyes widen at the prospect of it; a creature with beautiful wings, something that could be any shape or size. A tiny thing that was an embodiment of elegance in most cultures. A god in some. You can imagine patterns above fluttering wings; orange, purple, pink. You’re reminded of fairies dancing and leaving behind fairy rings, you see a blue butterfly flying above into a blue sky that is paler in comparison.

“A butterfly,” you repeat, your lips feeling numb. Only then do you notice that Tommy’s fingers hand slid to your neck, cupping it gently. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Sarah loves butterflies,” he remarks as if reminiscing a pleasant memory. “I’m sure she’ll love whatever you make of them.”

And just like that, a sharp melody cuts through the conversation. Joel looks down at his phone, eyebrows raising with slight surprise and worry. His eyes snap to you both.

“Speak of the devil,” he says, getting up. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.”

He disappears, leaving you and Tommy alone. Sleep starting to make its way through the cracks of your reserve, you allow yourself to lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder. His hand gently glides down from your neck to the small of your back, a comforting touch.

“Do you like the color?” he whispers.

You stare up at the ceiling, a soft light lavender gives the room a dream-like state. Your eyes shift back to him, a soft smile tugs at your lips.

“I do,” you hum. “But I think we should paint one of the walls a nice blue.”

“Blue?” he asks. “Why blue?”

“It reminds me of butterflies.”

You stare blankly at the white door in front of you. Both you and Tommy were taken aback when Joel asked you to come over after he brough Sarah back home. She refused to talk about it. And She asked for you specifically, Joel managed to learn what the issue was then. She’d gotten her period for the first time.

Which is why you have a pack of pads, painkillers and the last pieces of chocolate.

To be completely honest, you’re nervous as hell. It’s ridiculous really, considering Sarah is only fourteen years old. But alas, here you are, staring at the door with light filtering through the bottom gap. You’d told Joel to wait downstairs, and Tommy had offered to tidy up the room and throw out the newspapers. Right now, you’re regretting your decision of making Joel wait downstairs.

Sucking in a deep breath, you knock on the door twice. A weak sound barely reaches your ears.

“Come in.”

Sarah’s laying on the bed, curled up into a ball with her back turned to the door. Your throat tightens a bit. You don’t quite remember what your first period was like, but you know it must’ve been rough. It’s not easy to go to the bathroom and suddenly see blood stains all over your underwear. Briefly, you wonder if Joel ever talked to her about it. Did it come as a shock? They teach what periods are in school right?

Tentative, you make your way to the bed and gently sit at the foot of the bed. You notice her wincing a little.

“Are you alright?”

“‘T hurts.”

“I brought you painkillers,” you inform. “also a bit of chocolate.”

“I don’t want chocolate.”

“Tell me what you need then.”

“It was so humiliating,” she snaps, stretching her legs a bit but still refusing to look at you. “Everyone was there, well the girls, and I didn’t even notice it first. Sally did.”

You don’t know what entices you to do it, but you place a hand over her ankle. She clams down for a moment, takes a deep breath. She shudders.

“It was awful,” she chokes up. “They didn’t laugh or anything and it makes me even more upset that my first reaction was to call my dad.”

“That’s normal,” you answer, rubbing soothing circles into her clothed skin. “These things are difficult, your hormones are all over the place—”

“Gross.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that, “Yeah it’s pretty gross. I’m just trying to say that it’s normal to call your dad and I’m sure your friends will understand.”

“You’re too optimistic.”

“Am I?” you tease. “First time I’ve heard of it.”

Sarah sits up and pulls her knees close to her chest. She seems calmer now, more level-headed like her usual self. She holds your gaze, you could almost see a reflection of yourself in them. She’d been crying. Joel’s heart must’ve shattered into a million pieces.

“Is it always going to hurt this bad?”

“Kinda, yeah. I’m not going to try and bullshit you by saying it’s a beautiful thing. It’s not. But,” you offer her the last bit of chocolate, and she takes it with a small smile before plopping it on her tongue. “You’ll learn how to navigate it better. Just know that whatever you’re feeling, no matter the age, is always okay.”

“So I can still call my dad when I’m like…Fifty?”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to pick you up wherever you are.”

She snorts, “If he’s alive.”

“That man has the stubbornness of a mule. He’ll come back as a zombie if he has to.”

“That would actually be kinda cool.”

You smile as she thinks about it, her eyes looking up to the ceiling. Meanwhile, you take a peek at her clock, 2 AM. Time sure does fly.

“You should take a shower,” you say, turning back to Sarah. “And here, I brought you some pads. Do you want me to show you how to use it?”

She shakes her head, “I’m good. Thanks by the way…I…appreciate it.”

“I’m here whenever you need me. I’m only a knock away.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be a phone call away?”

“I don’t think that fits the whole neighbor theme.”

Before you leave, you notice a butterfly hanging from her window. A small smile touches your lips.

It’s blue.

“Is she okay?”

You’re not at all surprised when you see Joel with his head between his hands, elbows painfully digging into the kitchen counter. The circles under his eyes seem a shade darker, the white of his eyes stained with red.

“She’s alright don’t worry. She going to take a shower now, and use the pads I gave her. I also brought her painkillers that she might want to take before bed,” you had unknowingly brought the box down with you. You place it in front of Joel, his gaze drops. His lips move slightly as he silently reads the brand. “There isn’t much in there you should buy another one tomorrow.”

“Alright,” he answers, letting out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I’ll buy you a box too.”

“No need, you’ve already done a lot for me. Helping your daughter navigate the wonders of womanhood is the least I could do.” you answer with a heaping amount of sarcasm in your tone.

“I’d be lost without you, neighbor.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you grin and rest your hands on top of the counter as well. “You could’ve asked Asha to talk to her if I wasn’t around.”

His face falls, a sudden chill settling around you both. He shakes his head, the crease between his brows deep. “She specifically asked for you. Besides the thing with Asha—”

His words come to a sudden halt as if he doesn’t know how to describe the situation. Tommy had said that they were similar in character, you wonder if Asha is better at expressing her thoughts, you can’t imagine two people having the same struggle being together.

Joel suddenly takes your hands into his own, eliciting a soft gasp from the back of your throat.

“She asked for you,” he repeats again. “And I wouldn’t trust anyone else with a matter this sensitive.”

His hands are warm but his fingertips are cold. With an overwhelming need to touch, you smooth your thumb over the mountains of his knuckles, dipping between the valleys and climbing uphill. He seems to have the same need. You can see the turmoil in his eyes as he leans closer, lips an inch away, he holds your gaze. A moment worth painting, you think, the suspense, the aching need, to be forced apart. Unlike you, Joel doesn’t explore the depths of your skin, so you continue to do so for the both of you.

Your breath is lodged in your throat, a lump. You turn over his hand, tracing the lifelines and vanished marks of his skin. His pulse is fast under the pads of your fingers, the vein like a river overflowing across his forearm. You stop at the wrist, only your eyes allowed to continue the journey.

Staring at his skin, visions of what Sarah’s mother must’ve looked like flash before your eyes. You wonder if she saw the same things that you did, you wonder what possessed her to leave all this behind—the scarred skin, the soft voice, the dark brown eyes, the daughter, the home, the life.

Then you’re abundantly made aware of another’s presence when your eyes follow the slope of his right shoulder and see a darkened mark on his neck. Asha has been with him more intimately, you wonder what she sees when she looks at him. Is it the same as you? Does she see the sadness lurking under his skin? The worry of never being able to be enough for those around him? Does she understand what he feels?

Do you?

“I should go,” you exclaim, pulling away your hands like they’ve been burned. “Let me know if she needs anything else.”

You’re halfway to the door when you feel his fingers circling your wrist, not enough to physically hold you but enough to make his presence known. You hear the words spilling from his lips ‘wait’ he says, ‘let me walk you over’ but it’s too late, you’re out the door, throwing yourself into the chill of the night.

It’s too much, it’s too sudden, it’s too bizarre.

Your fingertips are still tingling with the sensation of his skin underneath yours, the soft hairs, the tiny bumps littered over. It reminds you of the smooth feeling of oil over canvas, all you want to do is press your palms and spread your fingers, touching him, you want to feel everything.

Tommy’s waiting on the porch, he gives you a look. “Is Sarah alright?”

“She’s fine,” you say, a bit breathless. “She’s…yeah she’s going to be fine.”

“Good,” he nods. “Anyway I should head back home, I cleared up the newspapers and I’ll come back for the cans tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

His mind seems to be whirring because he doesn’t notice how slowly you’re speaking, he doesn’t notice the frantic beating of your heart. Tommy nods to himself, and leans in, you feel the brush of his lips against your ear.

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

His lips are on your cheek, soft and wet. He smells of cigarettes and paint, but something sweet lingers below the surface. Your heart drops, your stomach churns. The feeling disappears as quickly as it came. Before you can say anything, he’s already at the end of the three steps you have.

“Goodnight,” Tommy calls out.

You watch like a deer in headlights as the car moves away, the red light slowly disappearing into the distance. You touch where he had kissed. It wasn’t the first time, but it feels different. It reminds you of when Joel kissed you, a similar feeling. The only difference is that instead of stopping time, you feel like you’re drowning in it.

Then you realize.

Tommy has feelings for you.

You clearly have feelings for Joel.

And you think Joel might have feelings for you too.

Your fingers twitch, butterflies flutter wildly both in your stomach and in your head.

You head inside.

You trudge into the bedroom, the scent of wet paint clinging to your skin like a suffocating blanket. You had brough along with you the magazine Joel had left on the coffee table. Sitting on the bed, you flip through the pages, but the content is dull, littered with construction jargon that is foreign to you.

Just as you're about to give up on the magazine, a photograph falls out from between the pages, landing on your lap. A photograph, you deduce, picking it up from your lap. It feels fresh, glossy, and slightly uncomfortable to the touch. You gaze at the image, and it takes a moment for your brain to register what you're seeing.

Every ounce of blood is drained from your face, all that heat pooling between your legs. your eyes go wide.

It’s Joel.

Half of his face is out of frame and he’s shirtless but you recognize him. Saliva floods your mouth. It’s not a very neatly taken picture, probably time adjusted so he could pose, which explains the slight blur of the background. His jeans hang low on his hips, unbuttoned, and his fingers disappear beneath the waistband, hinting at what lies beneath.

You trace the way his muscles are firm under his skin, the softness of his stomach, the faint trail of hair leading down to his navel.

The faint sight of the bullseye tattoo on his ribs solidifies to you that this is indeed Joel. You’re lightheaded. When he said he stopped by home to pick up something for Asha you hadn’t realized that this would be it, a suggestive, nearly nude, photo. Now you just feel stupid for assuming he could be into you, clearly, he and Asha are both comfortable with each other enough for stuff like this.

You continue to stare, the blood rush loud in your ears. You memorize every curve, every little detail of his body. The small scars littered across his chest, the unsure hint of a smile that’s mostly hidden, the pebbled nipples due to the cool air of the room. You want to see what lies under his pants, you want to see the rest of him and engrave that into memory. You want his body to burn yours, make you into something beautiful—make you into art.

You sneak your hand between your legs, one hand still propping the photo up. You never actually masturbated to a picture before, mostly videos or just your own imagination. There’s something…interesting about it. Your imagination is more vivid somehow as you look at the picture, you can almost feel the warmth of his body blanketing yours, those thick fingers circling your clit and slipping inside.

A soft moan breaks from your lips. You feel blood heating your cheeks, your skin incredibly warm and head dizzy from staring at him. You imagine having him in your mouth, your tongue teasing that sensitive spot right under the head of his cock. You think of the sounds he’d make, how guttural they would be.

You arch your back as you imagine his thick cock pressing into you, he pulls you closer to him. His hips move in a circular motion, pushing deeper and deeper into you as you moan in pleasure. His hands grasp your hips and he pulls you closer.

Your eyes flutter open as you imagine his lips on yours, tasting the sweat that is dripping from your skin. He flicks his tongue, exploring your mouth and sending sparks throughout your body. His hands move up your back, slowly tracing your spine until he reaches your shoulders. You feel his hands slide up around your neck as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss.

Your breath hitches as you feel the coarse hairs at the base of his cock rub against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You reach your hands around his back, pulling him even closer as his hips continue to move against yours. Your pleasure builds, and soon you let out a loud moan as you feel yourself cresting over the edge.

You imagine yourself collapsing against him, panting softly as the pleasure slowly ebbs away from your body. You feel the imaginary warmth of his embrace still surrounding you. It’s painful almost. Feeling him when he’s not here. Your heart hurts, chest heaving as you struggle to breathe. You take a sharp inhale, shaking your head.

Tears blur your vision as you place the photo back between the pages of the magazine.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #tommy miller x f!reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #hbo the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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destinygoldenstar · 2 months ago

Text

Fusing Total Drama Characters In Sims 4 (Part 19)

I’m fusing Total Drama characters in Sims 4 using the genetic mechanic.

Why?

I don’t flipping know. Why not?

I’m gonna do EVERY pairing possible. This post is just gonna be however long Tumblr allows for images.

So let’s just get into it.

I’m using my own TD Sims for this. They’re in the Gallery if you want them. As well as all these pairings and sims that get generated. So what you want.

Justin + Noah

In an alternate universe I feel like this would be a fun ship, actually. In AU context though.

We’re using Justin a lot this time so we’re gonna get some hot kids.

Let’s see if I’m right on that…

Okay…?

Eh? The girls clothes don’t match. Idk why she’s wearing gloves. But her hair and face are actually cute. I like that she’s more plus sized. That’s something you don’t expect from this combo.

The boy is your genetic typical sim.

The girls name is Elizabeth. She’s a rancher & childish.

The boys name is Yosef. He’s jealous & a cat lover.

Justin + Eva

Alright, let’s see…

OOF.

I mean the boy does have Justin’s face there. A lot of him could work if it weren’t for the pants.

The girl is a straight up disaster. WHAT IS THIS?!

Mismatch shoes. The jeans are ripped.

That’s a hideous bun. She has this eyeshadow. And two nose rings that are different colors. WHY?!

(I don’t like nose rings)

The girls name is Letica. She’s cheerful & a rancher.

The boys name is Art. He’s a kleptomaniac & paranoid.

Justin + Ezekiel

Alright, let’s see…

Okay.

They uh… there’s next to NO Justin here. But they’re okay.

Girls nice and casual. Nothing wrong there.

The boy is definitely a character. But I kinda like it?

Like, this explorer vibe actually really works for me.

The girls name is Arjuna. She’s gloomy & vegetarian.

The boys name is Rolando. He’s a child of the islands & loyal.

Justin + Alejandro

Ah. The kings of beauty.

Now this one has to be good!

WHAT THE F%#K?!

HOLY SH#T THESE ARE AWFUL!!

WHAT HAPPENED HERE?!?!?!

Why is the boys hair like that? Why is his chest like that?! Why does he have a nose ring?! Why is he wearing eyeliner?!

Why is the girls facial structure so awful?! Why is her hair that many colors?! Why the nose ring?! Why the spiked collar?! Why this skirt with these gloves with this shirt with these boots?! THATS NOT CHARACTER DESIGN!!!!

How do the two hottest male Total Drama character procreate the UGLIEST sims I have EVER SEEN?!?!

Anyway the boys name is Sonny. He’s a child of the islands & perfect.

The girls name is Annabeth. She’s a bookworm & geek.

Justin + Sierra

Oh here we go. The last one.

I was miserable making this sim. I f%#king LOATHE Sierra as a character. So I am NOT happy to be using her.

I’m kinda routing for these to be as ugly as possible just to spite her.

So let’s pray that’s the case…

Mighty disappointed cause they kinda work.

Yeah this part was a bust.

The boy actually works quite well. Everything matches. He’s cute.

I would say the hair for the girl is terrible, but… idk, the fact that it’s purple kinda saves it.

DONT ask me how the boy is blonde. I have no idea.

The girls name is Maureen. She’s squeamish & a maker.

The boys name is Jasper. He’s a party animal & lacrosse intolerant.

Say these generated sims were on a team on a show. What’s their team name?

#sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 #sims #the sims 4 #sims 4 screenshots #my sims #simblr #the sims #total drama #total drama oc #total drama island #total drama action #total drama world tour #td justin #td noah #td eva #td ezekiel #td alejandro #td sierra

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waklman · 2 years ago

Note

hey! It’s my birthday today! I was wondering if you could write a small blurb about Bradley doing something special for babybear on her birthday? No worries if you aren’t able to! I love the series! <3

Birthday Suit

first off, happy freaking birthday!!!!! of course i’ll write something for you!!!! thank you for enjoying my series, i have on my party hat for you right as we speak B) i wanted to get this posted on the day of your birthday so sorry if it’s not as polished >.> (also maybe because i wrote this on the shaky bus..so that too haha)

warnings: fluff, 18+ blog in general, minors dni.

word count: 900

something ‘bout you masterlist.

“Shit–she’s not here yet, right?” Bradley asks frantically, nudging the door open with his foot—hands clumsy handling a cake.

He’s yet to look up from the very costly decorated birthday cake, trying to balance it with sweaty fingers. You’ve been raving over the local bakery’s designs lately—showing Bradley their custom made desserts to an endless degree.

Which only meant that—he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t splurge on a cake. Especially one that was shaped like the head of a bear. When he finally arrived at the bakery for pickup, in his scramble to show up on time—Bradley couldn’t even be mad that one of the bear’s eyeballs were slipping off the edge, because you’d like it.

It would make you laugh, and that’s all Bradley needed to know before stuffing a fat twenty dollar bill in the tip jar—rendering the teenage girl at the register speechless.

As he sets the cake down, Bradley stretches his neck to face the group of usually chatty aviators surrounding the kitchen island.

His eyes are already narrowed into slits, staring at them through his eyebrows with a warning look.

There’s only silence between him and the group, who all have their mouths parted in shock. Hangman’s mouth is parted the widest, making the paper party horn slip from his teeth—which annoys Bradley even more.

Bob is the only one who can’t face Bradley, blinking down at the cake nervously—trying his hardest to ignore his choice of apparel.

“Don’t say a thing,” he grits, watching Jake collect his thoughts, lips puckering together—a clear sign that he does in fact—has something to say.

To no one’s surprise, he’s the first to speak up. “What the—What the fuck is on your face?” Jake sputters, lips curling inside his mouth to let out a hideous laugh.

He says exactly what everyone’s thinking, causing most of the pilots to double over in laughter. Though some of them—well just Coyote, accidentally spits up in his own hand, from holding in his amusement.

“What the fuck is on his face?!” Natasha yells the question at Jake. “Don’t you mean—What the fuck is he wearing?” Natasha puts forth, tugging on the pink tutu around his waist.

“Hey. Hands off woman, this took forever to put on.” Bradley grunts, turning his hip away from her hands.

It’s not like Bradley isn’t aware of how ridiculous he looks. There’s a full shaving cream beard ringing around his mouth for God's sake. Not to mention the bright pink tulle around his jeans—paired with a matching princess tiara sitting on his curls, of course.

He’s actually very aware that he looks like he’s been dressed by a group of six year old girls given free reign—also known as the collective who runs your brain. You’d have a hoot at this.

Before anyone else can get another word in—the front door of your apartment jiggles, and Fanboy quickly hushes everyone. The make fun of Rooster convention is put to an end as everyone scatters to a nearby hiding spot. If it’s one thing the group is good at—it’s knowing how to act quickly.

Right as you walk in, you almost fall over from being greeted with loud screams of “Suprise!” and “Happy Birthday!” and even one “I love you more than Rooster!” coming from Hangman.

Clutching your chest, your mouth stretches into a wide smile—heart full of joy at the surprise. “W-What? Oh my god,” you catch sight of Bradley first.

Completely dropping your stuff onto the floor, you go running at the flushed pilot, throwing yourself into his arms. Bradley stumbles back with a shy look on his face, “How do I look honey?”

You place a searing kiss to his mouth, letting the shaving cream stamp your own face—matching Bradley. “So freaking cute, I love the tiara,” you laugh, taking it for yourself.

Jake’s already starting, “See, I don’t know—it looks fine on her but on Rooster it’s kinda—” Natasha jabs him in the ribs with her elbow, not wanting him to ruin the moment. Jake groans, catching the hint.

Bradley finally drops you, hands still on your waist as you slip back onto the wooden tiles. You get distracted, playing with Bradley’s skirt as he grins down at you, “How’d they get this in your size? I tried checking before but—”

“Ahem.” Payback cuts in, knowing you and Bradley tend to get lost in your own little world.

You both turn to face the noise, and everyone’s surrounding the cake, waiting for you to notice it.

“No. No you didn’t!” You gape, hands coming to your mouth—smearing your new white beard.

Your eyes start to actually well up watching everyone make excited gestures at you—happy that you got your dream cake. Hangman flaps his hands around the cake, with an open smile.

Unable to contain your tears, your fingers stretch over your eyes, covering your face completely. “Baby—wait hey are you crying?” Bradley worriedly leans down, trying to pry your hands off.

You fall foward into his chest, and he catches you. “It’s s’cute. The ugly little eyeball—I can't,” you muffle into your palms.

“Thought you’d like that,” he laughs, glad they’re just happy tears. Placing a kiss onto your hairline, he whispers, “Happy birthday babybear.”

“Babybear!” All the pilots shout in unison, some even tearing up themselves. In a flash, everyone's throwing themselves at you both, turning it into a group hug. Hangman is the last to join, wrapping his arms around everyone, sniffling.

You just cry harder at the sentiment, this is the best birthday ever.

note: as always, thank you for reading and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

tags for this series: @wkndwlff @sammyrenae68 @stark3ys @roosterbruiser @gracelyn-writes @zombiedeathsworld @blueoorchid @averyhotchnerr

join my taglist for this series here or follow @waklman-library and turn on notifs to get notified when i post !

#waklman blurbs #happy birthday nonny #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw blurb #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley rooster x y/n #bradley rooster x reader #bradly rooster bradshaw #rooster fluff #tgm fic #tgm imagine #tgm fluff #sbu #sbu blurbs

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seancekitsch · 2 years ago

Note

I hope you don't mind me asking. And you can leave it if you want, but ( I so adore those two pervs lol)

How do you imagine Adrian’s reaction when he first figures out one of his latest Twitter followers is in fact Reader?

amon 1/2/3

TDLR hes shook >:)

You’re wearing that pair of jeans again. Adrian hates these jeans. He can’t stand them. Whenever you wear them he can’t help but stare and scowl at them. All because they have the audacity to hug your ass and thighs so perfectly it makes his uniform pants fit terribly. His jaw clenches as he starts to pace around the room. He knew you were tired, so the moment you threw your sunglasses at Chris in what he had to assume was anger, he figured he had to try to step up for you. He walks laps as he argues, worried that if he stops moving he’ll put his big dumb Adrian foot in his big dumb Adrian mouth and make you look bad in front of the others. Despite the anger you showed, you almost immediately ignore the argument, so Adrian figures he has to be the hero to go to bat for you.

He doesn’t mean to look at your screen, because he knows it’s rude. He’s been told by everyone on the team that its rude, so he’s trying to train himself into not doing that, just like how he trained himself to stop doing duck lips in photos so his brother won’t make fun of him.

Your fingers move quickly though, and it catches his eye on the Vigilante side of his brain instead of the Adrian side of his brain.

He sees what’s unmistakably his own Twitter account. Not @busboybyday, nope. The OTHER one. He recognizes his own body, and he knows thats the video he posted right before he came into HQ this morning.

Holy shit. Holy fuck. Holy shit. He knew it. No he didn’t. But he had a sinking suspicion. He remembers one morning waking up to see a notification of you liking a tweet on his lockscreen, and then he couldn’t find it in the app. And then a new twitter account followed him the next night. A twitter account with a Fargo reference as its username that he hopes is from the same IP address as yours.

Now he knows youre actively seeing and even liking the videos… he could die. Not actually, but like, in a high school english course figurative language way. He has to actively wave his hand in front of his face like he’s shoo’ing away a fly to try to erase thoughts of you touching yourself and moaning his name while his twitter page is open on your phone.

If Adrian’s pants weren’t already feeling tight, they’re downright constricting now.

“Why would y/n hanging out with me make her a slut? It doesn’t even make sense. A woman having sex doesn’t make her a slut!” Adrian reasons, turning on his heel to walk back towards you.

“But she said you didn’t even have sex!” Chris yells back, and you’re just scrolling on your phone ignoring all of it.

“Thats not the point!” Adrian shouts back, wanting to tear out his hair at his best friends argument right now. He loves his best friend, but

“I’m just saying-“ Chris starts, but then he’s cut off. Adrian isn’t even looking at him anymore though, instead he’s just gazing at the back of your head. What does you face look like in this moment. Are you nervous? Happy? Is there that cute little frown that you get when you’re bored?

“Why are you even using the word slut?” Economos chimes in, even though he wasn’t in the conversation beforehand. He sounds angry, but his facial expression looks a little too chill in Adrian’s opinion, and he assumes that the bearded man isn’t actually all that man.

“It sounds like you both need to work on your internal misogyny,” He speaks up again, and Adrian snaps his mouth shut so quickly he can feel his teeth rattle. Oh shit.

He sits down as soon as he can, practically scared into sitting in fear that standing might make him look like a misogynist to you. He sits calmly, well, as calm as he can with his mind racing the way it does. Chris always said he doesn’t make sense, but Adrian knows how what they’re saying as his comment connect, there’s just… maybe twelve jumps to take before you get to his comment. But it makes sense.

“Well, I mean I can’t even do anything, Leota’s mom won’t pick up the phone, Murn’s…. well,” Emilia pauses, and looks a little choked up when she mentions their former boss. Adrian’s getting better at recognizing emotions, and he knows she’s really sad about him dying. Even if he was a bird and he lied to them. Friends are weird like that. Adrian sometimes misses how he would yell at them, because Murn did usually have the right idea. Murn was like a parent for the group, even though he didn’t need a parent. He had those, and they didn’t really like him as much as his brother.

“Maybe we should try to go out on purpose,” Emila proposes, and the suggestion hangs in the air for a second. Adrian thinks that might be nice. Usually when you went out to bars, it was this big coincidence where you would all go alone, or maybe one or two of you would go for a beer, and then the rest of you would all trickle in having the same idea. He thinks it’s because maybe a few of the team have secret telepathy, because how else could this repeatedly happen?

(There are five bars in Evergreen, and they have slowly gotten themselves banned from each of them.)

Everyone is quick to agree, save for you, still scrolling on your phone and ignoring everything around you. Adrian really hopes youre not embarrassed by the implication of you and him hooking up. But you did like his tweet… He didn’t imagine that.

“Like team bonding! It’ll be fun,” Leota speaks up above the rest of the discussion.

It’s then decided a plan would be made, and the scheduling gets done quickly.

When everyone agrees to meet the next night, Adrian stands and walks over to you. He has this fantasy thats been building in his head the whole day, that you like what you see on his twitter and you want him too. That maybe, you wouldn’t beat the shit out of him if he tried to make a move. That you like him too.

“Well? What do you think, Cowgirl?” Adrian asks, using the emoji nickname he gave you and truly hoping you’ll actually talk to him after Economos’ comment about his misogyny. He hopes you don’t think he’s one of those nice guys he sees on reddit that are actually terrible and expect things out of women. What they do is almost crime, Adrian thinks, bitter that it isn’t.

Your eyes widen and he starts to get a little nervous, like maybe you won’t be down and he won’t get more time with you. At this point, Adrian would literally beg for just an extra minute with you. He’s lucky he gets Fargo nights now, but he’s willing to press that luck as far as it’ll go.

“Yeah sure,” you respond, not missing a beat but your eyes don’t match your words completely. Adrian doesn’t know what that is. “Good! I’ll pick you up after patrols tomorrow,” he confirms, and you nod. Adrian feels on top of the world after that, practically drifting to the Vigilante Mobile before he changes in the car for his shift at Fennel Fields. He makes a mental note to cancel his patrols for tomorrow night and make a few stops tomorrow morning to prepare to take you out for drinks… with friends… tomorrow night. Fuck, he doesn’t know how he’ll get through this shift now with the new hostess talking his ear off when all he wants to do is to hide in the lock in and jerk off to the thought of you watching his videos… maybe even liking them… maybe even touching yourself to them.

He turns the music up, and pulls out of the parking lot with his tires squealing.

Adrian hopes you like the video. Half of them are for you anyway.

#adrian chase x reader

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k1nkywhispers · 3 months ago

Text

This story was originally written by me for someone out there on tumblr. He read it, liked it and changed a few things for the better.

His acc got banned and the story with it.

Please note: 18+ and very explicit content

Have fun and send me a message if you liked it 🫦

The moment our eyes met through the flickering lights of the underground club and past the drunk, sweaty crowd, I knew what I wanted. He looked at me with an urgency and a burning desire as my heart thumped in rhythm with the pounding music. I had to find out if it meant what I thought and hoped for.

As my long legs carried me through the crowd, my wet skin met cold leather jackets and damp, sticky arms of the mindless dancing masses as my focus remained unbroken, a single instinct driving me forward.

The moment I came to a rest right in front of him, my breath hitched and my stomach dropped. I noticed his thick cascading hair, his fair skin and his shirt bunched up at his forearms, strong and veiny. He was dressed in a simple black shirt and a pair of jeans. Exactly my type, I thought to myself.

“Hi“ I simply said. “Do you want to dance?“

He nodded and took my hand into his, dragging me into the centre of the dance floor with a commanding tug, making me stumble, yet his imposing grip keeping me steady.

The loud and brutal techno beats overwhelmed my senses and I barely noticed him behind me as we started to move to the rhythm. As I slowly lifted my arms above my head to show of my delicate curves and full breasts, I felt embarrassed but feral with desire to present myself to him like this.

I finally felt his hands touching me, his rough, sinewy hands on my delicate body. He started on my hips, gradually moving to my belly, then to my pelvis and then up, until I felt the heat of his grip cupping my tits, I felt drunk, full of adrenaline as I stared at him, gritting my teeth with need. I felt the soft pressure of his thumbs right on the sides of my breasts as his gaze pierced through mine silently, my loud shallow breathing drowned out by the deafening music as he quickly understood what I needed.

I was becoming delirious with anticipation, I could feel the tension building between my thighs as I began to weave seductive circles with my hips, I felt like an animal, doing anything to increase and chase that sensation. The more he touched me, the more I felt that feeling grow, heightened only by the slickness I felt building between me and the lacy surface of my panties, the sweat and arousal creating a warm wetness that needed his touch

It was as if he could smell my growing arousal, I noticed him coming closer and closer and pushing his own hips into my ass. I couldn’t help but let out a soft moan as soon as I noticed his own excitement growing as it weaved delicious lines across my soft flesh, the hardness pressing into my ass, gliding between my cheeks as he guided my hips with his forceful touch.

I obeyed, pressing myself harder into him, rubbing my ass on his lap under the guise of dancing. My belly filled with satisfaction as I felt his hands wandering again, sending electric shivers down my back. His warm hands fully covered my breasts, I felt them spill into his grip as he managed to trap my nipples between two of his fingers of each hand. I moaned a second time, louder and more forcefully as my back arched, my breasts were completely bare underneath the thin fabric of my dress and his touch began breaking my barriers, leaving me increasingly exposed to his whims.

It was supposed to be my own dirty secret for the night, the fact that I left all my underwear at home, yet now I couldn’t free myself from the thought, that it might actually prove useful. My we thighs glided against each other, reminding me of how few layers stood between me and this stranger, the thought was exhilarating and scary.

No one seemed to notice us or care about what we were about to do, all lost int their own worlds. I felt my pussy dripping, my thighs sticking together while he circled his fingers around my nipples and gently massaging my tits. I threw my head back as my brow furrowed, I didn’t want to open my eyes and acknowledge this lewd display, but I needed to feel it all.

Simultaneously, I felt his face bury itself in my neck, the smell of his aftershave as he began to kiss my sweat-slickened neck. His lips traced a path from there, up my earlobes, biting them gently as he licked this special spot right behind my ear, sucking and nibbling it, holding me in place like an animal.

My instincts once again took over, I turned to face him, my face pleading and determined as I looked up at him. I took his hand and hurried through the crowds once more, towards the brightly lit exit.

The still, frigid air enveloped us as soon as I opened the heavy iron door. I guided us away from the smoking guests crowded around three big patio heaters and into a dark and gloomy alley a few hundred meters away. As soon as the darkness shrouded us, I took his face into both of my hands and pressed my lips onto his, pulling him down to my level. My heart pounded as my body trembled with nerves and the cold. I needed his heat.

He returned the kiss with the same burning passion I felt. I began moaning against his lips as he pushed his hot and wet tongue past mine. His taste was indescribable and I savoured every delicious movement as the misty condensation of our panting and moaning created a fogn around out faces.

As the kiss got more intense and wet, I felt his hands rapidly working up my dress and his fingers searching for a strap to rip down. I saw a mischievous grin on his face as soon as he noticed that there wasn’t anything there. For a second we just looked at each other and I became hyper-aware of my dress rolled up to my belly, bearing my legs and the entirety of my ass and pussy. The cold wind made me shiver as it brushed against the wetness of my vulgar exposure, my knees shook and began hurting, buckling under the pressure of my own desire. I felt the gravel digging into the skin of my shins as I knelt down in front of him.

My hands desperately tugged at the hem of his pants, pulling them down with a force as I watched his hard cock spring out in front of my face. It throbbed and twitched as it’s heat radiated onto my face, warming my cheek as I basked in it’s view. It was bigger than I expected, slick and shiny, begging to be tasted.

Not losing a second, I started with a gracious lick from the bottom to the tip and earned a muffled groan. His rugged sounds spurred me to continue. Quickly, I wetted his tip with my salvia and started to work my way down, centimeter by centimeter of his big, pulsating length. As I reached the base of his shaft with my mouth, my lips where already drenched in my own spit and my labia where just as wet, overflowing with lust, dripping onto the ground. He started to gasp and moan more intensely as I continued sucking deeply, tasting his length with my tongue with each pass.

I relinquished control, letting him push himself deeper and deeper down my throat. His hands, gripping the back of my head, forcing me back towards him with rugged, forceful pulls. The pain in my throat and the lack of oxygen nearly drove me over the edge by itself, I spread my legs as wide as I could, without losing the contact with his dripping wet and urgently pulsing cock.

I was entranced by his imminent released, his balls tightening against my chin, his cock growing hotter and harder in my mouth as I throbbed rhythmically, but just before I was able to push him over the edge he gently pulled me away from him, by my hair, onto my feet.

His body pushed me hard into the wall behind me and his handy quickly wrapped around the back of my thighs, lifting me up against the wall. The coarse surface dug into the skin on my back but I barely noticed, all I felt in this moment was a animalistic desire for him to fuck me unconscious. And again, as If he heard my thoughts he positioned himself right in front of my entrance and looked me into the eyes with his piercing gaze, making me blush and look away.

I nodded faintly, he grabbed me even tighter and pushed into me with one powerful thrust. My pussy was so slick that he slid into me a few more centimeters than intended. I screamed. The instant sensation of his thick cock filling me so deeply made my limbs shake as lost composure. I buried my face into the crook of his neck and started to moan every time he pushed his cock inside of me. He filled me completely, a back-aching rhythm that made my belly feel full and warm shifting my guts with each movement.

After the third or fourth push and I felt the tip nudging the special spot inside of me. My head was blank at this point, no longer thinking, just feeling. All I could perceive was the obscene and wet sound emerging from between us and our husky breaths and moans echoing off the surrounding walls.

It didn’t take long at all until I felt this feeling building up in my belly and I began to grind myself frantically against him. The sloppy sounds of our union seemed to push him to the brink, the wet heat connecting our hips in the frigid air. He too began to increase his tempo. The wet slapping sound filled every inch of the alley like a symphony. I gripped tight around his neck as my nails dug into his skin, the orgasm exploded inside of me completely spontaneously. The feeling spread through my belly, waves of blinding pleasure. I felt my pussy pulse, drawing tighter around his cock as I came intensely with a feral scream. It was too much for him, two more overstimulating strokes and he followed me down the precipice. His moans, centimeters away from my ear, telling me how fucking tight and beautiful I was, combined with the sensation of his hot and sticky cum covering the inner walls of my pussy, made me cum again. I reared up in his arms a second time and clenched my thighs around his hips as the second orgasm crashed through me. I shuddered and held onto his warm body as my legs threatened to give out.

Heavy breathing was the only thing one could hear for the next minute or two as I savoured his scent. I looked into his eyes as he slowly let me down to my feet, the cold void of separation was almost too much to bear.

“You here tomorrow night as well?“ I barely heard the words coming out of his mouth as the blood rushed in my ears.

I nodded quickly, eager to obey. He chuckled and gave me a quick slap on my ass, before pulling the fabric of my mini dress back into place.

“Good girl.“ Was the last thing I heard before he vanished into the night.

#short story #smut #party #wet and needy #sexy babygirl #better than his wife

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mommysgirl003 · 1 year ago

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A Day In The Park With Mommy

I woke up on a cool, crisp fall morning. I could feel that I had wet my diaper at some point in the night, long enough ago that it had gone cold and gotten clammy around my princess parts. I smiled and rolled out of bed and waddled my way towards Mommy's room. I needed a diaper change badly, so I woke Mommy up the best way I know how: I took a running start and dove into her bed! I head Mommy groan, then giggle as she rolled over and wrapped me in a big bear hug.

We laid in this position for several minutes until Mommy finally said "Baby girl, I've been thinking. I can tell you've been working hard to be on your best behavior lately, so how would you feel about a fun day out in the park with Mommy?" I can't agree fast enough, exclaiming "Yes Mommy!!!! Please, please please!" Mommy giggles once again, ruffles my hair, and says "Okay, let's get you changed and ready to go!"

I roll over onto my back as Mommy slides out of bed. As I move to get up and follow Mommy, thinking I'll be allowed to change into grown up clothes since we're going out, but Mommy turns around with another thick pink diaper in her hand and puts her other hand on my chest, pushing me back down onto the bed.

"I thought we were going out, Mommy?" I ask her, visibly confused. Mommy giggles once again and says "We are baby. But really, you can't expect to spend a day in the park without your diapers can you? What if you have another one of your little accidents?" I blush, knowing I have had accidents in the past, but shrug figuring I've worn diapers in public before, so it won't be so bad. I lay back and let Mommy change my wet diaper, enjoying the attention she pays to my princess parts as she cleans me up. Once I was back in a diaper I went to stand up and go back to my own bedroom to change into some jeans and a t-shirt.

As soon as I stand up and take a step, I feel Mommy grab my hand and say "You don't need to go anywhere, I've got your outfit for the day right here!" And I turn around to see what she means. My jaw hits the floor as I see a pair of hot pink overalls. These overalls had short legs, with a cute cuff at the end, and I could see snaps on the crotch, assumedly for diaper changes. "Mommy! I can't wear that in public!" I exclaim, mortified at the thought of being seen in public in such an outfit.

"Bedtime just got moved up an hour tonight." Mommy replied, not engaging in arguments with me. I respond, "But Mommy!!!! I can't!!!!!" Mommy still didn't argue, laugh, raise her voice, or any other, she simply stated "10 minutes of corner time when we get back." I choose to stop fighting before I make my situation worse and accept it. I can deal with a little humiliation as long as Mommy is with me. I step into the embarrassing overalls and blush as Mommy finishes getting me dressed, putting socks and shoes on my feet. Mommy then directs me to sit down on the bed and says "Wait right here, Mommy has to get ready" and she goes off to put on her own much more grown up outfit of leggings and a t-shirt.

As soon as Mommy was dressed, she came back and grabbed my hand, pulling me up off the bed. I toddled beside her down the hall, toward the front door, actually feeling a little excited to have an outing with my beautiful Mommy. As we reached the door, I felt Mommy reach behind me and fiddle with something behind my back.

I promptly noticed that she had clipped a leash onto a loop I hadn't noticed before on the back of my outfit. I stopped walking and said "Mommy, no! This is too far!" In a matter of fact tone, Mommy replied "20 spanks before corner time when we get back." I groaned and stomped my feet, and began moving towards the door. Mommy still didn't appreciate this and said "Make that 30 spanks and no dessert after dinner tonight." I forced a smile onto my face and followed Mommy out the door, determined not to make the situation worse for myself.

As we were walking down the street, I couldn't help imagining every car that drove past slowing down to get a better look at me, every pedestrian on the street hiding snickers and giggles at my expense. Ultimately, no one speaks to us or even overtly acknowledges me. Mommy does stop to pet a dog who is out for a walk with their owner, leaving be blushing furiously, but the dog owner is nice enough to pretend he doesn't notice me on a leash, saving me from the humiliation of having to speak.

A few blocks later, we were approaching the park. I could see, waiting right outside the main entrance to the park one of Mommy's friends who I had been instructing to call "Aunt Kristin", who absolutely loved to tease me. As we approached the front of the park, Mommy excitedly walks up and hugs her friend and the two of them exchange pleasantries before Aunt Kristin reaches over and toussles my hair and says "Hey there, little pamper princess!" I blush deeply, look down at the ground and try to ignore her until Mommy says "40 spanks..." which immediately makes me look up, force another smile spite of my blushes, and say "Hello Aunt Kristin!" and give her a very forced hug.

Finally, all three of us head into the park together and Mommy moves towards a bench. Mommy looks at me and smiles and says "Since this is your reward for being so good, why don't you pick what equipment you want to go play on! Mommy will be over here on this bench!" As I turn towards the playground equipment Kristin grabs my leash from Mommy and slyly says "Come on diaper cuck, I'll push you on the swing. I know it's your favorite!!" Knowing I already have a very red bottom in my future, I resignedly say "Yes Aunt Kristin" and follow her towards the swings. As I sat down, I could see why she chose to call me "diaper cuck". Mommy had sat down and a man she had clearly arranged to meet had come and sat beside her. I could see Mommy point towards me and both of them start to laugh, as Aunt Kristin began to push me on the swings.

I still felt like every eye in the park was on me as I began to blush again and felt tears in my eyes. I had never felt so small, so vulnerable, so defeated. Aunt Kristin could clearly read how I was feeling in my body language as she said in a mocking tone, "Awww, cheer up princess! This is your big fun day out!!! You're dressed so adorably and you're having the kind of fun day every little girl dreams of! It's only fair that after your fun day out, your Mommy gets to have a fun night in later!" I let out a small sob as she pushed me higher and higher on the swing set, making me more and more obvious to the crowd in the park and making sure I could only get occasional glimpses as Mommy and her new friend moved closer and closer together on their shared bench...

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Mommy requested that I write this story for my blog, I took some creative liberties with it. This is a work of fiction, based on some shared fantasies between me and my Mommy! If there's any other topics you'd like to see me write about, feel free to share them with my Mommy @mamamaia03 she's the BEST

#Story #ab dl lifestyle #ab dl diaper #diaper regression #humiliation kink #cuckcold

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foodlesoodlesdoodles · 9 months ago

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HEEHEEHEE I AM KICKING MY FEET AND TWIRLING MY HAIR! I AM IN A GOOD MOOD! DO YOU HAVE AMY FUN FACTS ABOUT THE ULTIMATE SILLY BILLY, BES 🤡

I DO!!!!!!!!!

SHE…. THEY… HE…. Bes is an all pronouns kind of fellow. They like to switch it up at the drop of a hat, and it’s effective purely because they are so androgynous not in just the usual way— but also like. She has some chest hair and boobs, and she can have stubble all she wants.

She also has a sibling-like thing with Pucci going on TO ME, which makes shit tragic but don’t worry about that right now. By the time of SDC she’s 18 and getting into so much mischief.

Now I’m sure . you’ve noticed a theme. okay yeah I do pair her up with polnareff but that’s just because they are SO funny to me. Bes banters consistently and it flows kinda nice with Pols whole deal and they are both goofy tragic bastards who can’t catch a break. She ,, DID turn him into a clown momentarily (Jean Pierrot Polnareff…) I mean this as in Bes used to be in a traveling freak show and she had really bad facial dysphoria for a long time, even after Dio.

I don’t think I’ve ever explained her stand fully? It’s a fully functioning, large circus. Except it’s kind of looping, and it’s like a spiders web to catch stand users. Once you’re in, you can’t really get out unless you find a highly specific ‘door’ (can range to an actual door to something like a cabinet door, trapdoor, etc). And she can pull off any attractions she wants here, and the moment you use up three lives you get clown-ified and your soul is hers for the keeping.

Considering the ridiculous ass shit circuses in cartoons do, as you can imagine she is hilariously a formidable foe. The thing is though? She didn’t actually want to hurt anyone, and this kind of thing was justified to herself by she’s not hurting them physically and pretty much every other guardian in her life (Dio manor) was like ‘no no this is good’. So.

I was hoping to do a second draft, but here’s Fiesta! SDC arc she looks more like a regular clown, but DiU onward she starts turning into Biblical Ringmaster as Bes gets control of her own life. It’s a lot to explain, but. She’s very sad to me and I want her to be happy. She knows they weren’t good people, but pretty much all of her mentors and friends died 😭😭 she’s grown so she doesn’t hold a grudge, even if Dio was kinda like her dad. She’s trying hard to get those deep seeded things out of her head and be a good person.

#GOT SO EXCITED I FORGOT TO TAG LMAOOO #art #oc #jjba #jjba oc #my art #oodles rambles #oodles talks #oodles asks #EDIT AGAIN to clarify I am such an avpol enjoyer #I just . Like. want to give these two somebody post SDC to get them for real #goofy guys with tragic lore and motives . let them cook

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ilovecupcakesandtea · 2 years ago

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Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: NSFW 18+ Summary: Revelations and deep conversations a plenty....buckle up its about to get heavy. Word Count: 5,958 Warnings: Alcohol consumption. Commentary: Fun fact less than 18 hours ago this had no title and hadn't been proofread despite having been finished for almost a week....and yet chapter 5 is already done ready for next week! Thank you to @slipperygiraff for being amazing <3

Part One Part two Part three Part five Part six

"So of all the tattoo studios in Indy, Harrington happens to walk into yours at the one point you're there on your own?" Gareth asks standing in front of the open window, taking a cigarette from Eddie.

"Yeah, just strolls right in. Luckily I had no appointments booked after so I could close up straight after I'd finished his ink." Eddie replied, smoking his own cigarette standing by the window next to Gareth.

"And how was seeing him again? Can't have been easy, surely?" The younger guy asked cautiously.

"It was weird man, he looks totally different, all punked out. He looks so good Gare, his hair is pink! Sides of it shaved, ripped black jeans, piercings. He got a fricking tattoo of a bat with nails in it, so metal." Eddie sighed remembering how good Steve had looked casually lying there being tattooed.

"Calm down before you pop a boner in front of me, not done that since you we're like 13." Gareth laughed. "So did he ask why you left and did you tell him about J?" he asked softer.

"Yeah he asked, I explained. Told him I needed out. Yeah he knows about J, they brought us over a couple drinks just after he told me he isn't straight"

"I'm sorry what?!" Gareth coughed a lung full of smoke out in surprise. "Steve Harrington, THE Steve Harrington, ladies man Steve Harrington, King Steve. is gay?"

"He never out right said gay, just said he was far from straight is all." Eddie shrugged.

"Man what are you going to do?" Gareth asked after a few minutes of silence.

"No idea" Eddie whispered as he dragged a hand down his face and stumped his cigarette out.

There was a banging on Steve's door, just having made it downstairs when the banging began. He walked over and opened the door to find Robin, still in her PJs, who pushed past him as soon as the door was open enough.

"You gonna tell me what was soooo important you couldn't tell me over the phone?" Robin demanded as she started looking through his fridge.

"I got us food already. Let's take it to the coffee table and I promise to tell you everything." He said as he started handing her some of the junk food he had picked up on his way home the night before.

Once all the food was laid out, they sat on the couch, legs crossed, facing each other.

"Well go on then!" Robin demanded, mouth full of cheese puffs.

"Well when I was walking to the show the other night I passed a tattoo shop so I went in late the next afternoon and you'll never…" he was interrupted by Robin grabbing his left hand, pulling it close to inspect his tattoo.

"You got a tattoo!" She screamed so loud he was sure the neighbors could have heard her. "Wait, is that a robin on your bat? It's even got a little Scoops hat! Aw, Steve!" Robin beamed, pulling him in close for a hug and probably getting cheese dust all over the back of his shirt.

"You'll never guess who it was that did it."

"It's too early for this and you didn't even make us coffee. You know I came over as soon as I woke up. Please don't actually make me guess." She sighed, shoving another cheese puff in her mouth.

"It was Eddie." He watched as Robin's face slowly turned to shock and her mouth fell open, half chewed cheese puff visible. "Robs, gross. Come on. I get it but I don't really wanna see that ok?" He commented, reaching out a hand to her jaw and pushing it closed.

"You're fucking joking right now! Holy shit! Ok and? Did you tell him how you feel? Is that why you got home so late?" Steve was very thankful that she had at least finished her food before speaking this time.

"No Robin I didn't. I just couldn't. He did offer to explain over drinks. As much as him leaving hurt, I can't say I blame him. He wouldn't have had much of a life here besides us."

"That may be true but he still could have said something or left a note. Anything."

"I know. He apologized though. It sucks but I can forgive him."

"And you didn't tell him how you feel about him, why?"

"Because he's got someone now." He confessed, looking away from her to grab his bag of twizzlers.

"I'm sorry." Robin whispered, putting her hand on his and giving a comforting squeeze.

"It's alright. I shouldn't have waited to try and talk to him but he seems happy so that's good enough for me. I did get to meet them while we were at the bar. They were really nice. That's what he deserves, someone that treats him right."

"They?" Robin asked.

"Yes!" Steve could feel himself perking up a bit with the conversation heading in that direction. "I didn't know that was a possibility. Apparently people use they them as gender neutral pronouns. J was also telling me about how they're genderqueer, said sometimes they feel like a woman, sometimes a man, and sometimes neither. I didn't even know that was a possibility, Robin!"

"Hmm, no, I didn't either." She mumbled around the cookie she'd grabbed, giving him a look that told him she was reading beyond what he was saying. Robin was good at that, knowing things that were in the back of his mind before he even acknowledged them. She just continued eating the cookies, choosing to let him get there on his own this time.

Steve was not having an easy time processing everything that happened. Seeing Eddie again had just set him back. He'd started getting to a better place,really, but well now it was right back to square one. As if that wasn't enough, he had to go and find out about people being genderqueer, which was currently making him question so much about himself. Could life just go easy on him for once? One crisis at a time would be nice but of course that could never be his luck.

Talking to Robin helped a little but there was only so much she could help. So Steve had decided to go for a little piercing therapy, getting the middle of his lip and nipples done. Robin had just rolled her eyes at him. She couldn't really be too mad at him, at least he'd taken her advice and gone to a professional instead of trying to do it himself again.

The new piercings had helped for a bit, Steve was at least able to push Eddie far enough back in his mind to at least focus on the other crisis at hand. Could genderqueer fit some of the things he'd been feeling? Could he be? So many thoughts about things he was starting to look back on and notice. He really needed to talk to someone about this. For once Robin wasn't the answer but he knew who was.

"Hello, J speaking, if you're trying to sell me something just hang up now" J answered the ringing phone with a sigh.

"Hey, it's Steve. I'm not bothering you at a bad time am I?"

"Hey you!! No not at all! I'm completely free. How can I help? Everything ok?" A cheery tone now in J's voice.

"Alright as it can be. I've been thinking a lot about the last time we talked. I know you said I could call but it's ok if you changed your mind or don't want to talk about it anymore." Steve couldn't help but be a little nervous. He'd really needed someone to talk to and sure J had said he could call but that didn't mean he didn't feel like he was bothering them.

"Oh love, not at all. How is it I can help?" J asked, getting comfortable on the couch.

"I was wondering if you'd be willing to tell me how you figured it out? What helped you?" What if he was asking questions that were too personal? He'd only just met J and they hadn't talked much.

"How I figured out I was genderqueer you mean? Well I never thought I fitted the standard mold of a female, even from a young age. Dolls and barbies were never my thing all the time, but sometimes they really were. Sometimes pretty flowing dresses felt right and other times I'd rather have clawed my own skin off than wear one. But I also never really fit the mold of male either. Some days jeans and a t-shirt were what felt right and doing 'boy things' was amazing and other days that didn't feel right either. I spoke to an older friend a few years ago about it, tried one of their binders on and sat and cried in the mirror. Everything started to fit into place at that point." It took Steve a minute to process all J had said, thinking about how some of that fit his own feelings.

"That uh… that makes a lot of sense actually. I just have been going through a lot lately and never knew to think about it that way. Guess I've just been really thinking about if maybe that could fit me too. I was so different in high school and I've been trying to work on myself, just be a better person and find myself outside of trying to make others like me. Getting there little by little, more so these last couple of months. It seems the more I work on the more things I find hidden underneath. Trying to find my own style, without my parents' input, did make a big difference but something still feels missing.”

“My best friend Robin has been helping a bit. Helping me accept that there are days that I just want to feel pretty. I didn't really know what to do with that or what to think about it until I met you. Looking back on my life and after what you've said I've noticed some things. Made me think about how easily I fit in with a group of girl friends, and liked it. How easily I also got on with a group of guy friends and how sometimes one would feel more right than the other. I remembered being confused as to why toys were gendered, I just wanted to play with them all.”

“I've noticed how on days that I just want to feel pretty, being referred to as a man just doesn't feel right. It felt so good when Robin helped me with my hair and told me how pretty I looked. I guess it's just that days where I'm ok with being referred to as a man make me doubt those other days where I'm not. It's been a lot to try and process and shit, it's confusing." Steve took a deep breath and wiped away the tears that had started to fall down his cheeks. Robin must be rubbing off on him for him to ramble that much. How it was so easy to just open up like that to someone who was practically a stranger he wasn't sure but fuck if it didn't feel good to have someone to open up to.

"First of all I'm so proud of you for working on yourself, that shit takes guts. Secondly you absolutely do not need to figure it all out at once, fuck, if you ever get it all figured out give me the key! I'm still trying to figure it out years later. I can talk to you about this all day everyday, I could introduce you to a load of people that are also genderqueer or just don't care what section of the shop they buy their clothes from, but it's different for everyone. I remember convincing myself I was lying the first day I wanted to wear a dress once I'd become comfortable enough to be who you see now. I woke up that morning and wanted to wear a dress and wear makeup and heels but I'd spent so many days previously feeling more masc or neither that I felt so ashamed of myself for wanting to wear a dress, I phoned a good friend and they reminded me that more fem days we're just part of the spectrum of my gender. That I wasn't lying to myself or anyone."

"That's really helpful. I'll have to try to remember that. I'm sure if I explained it all to Robin she'd gladly give me a good slap to set me straight when needed. I think maybe that might fit me, genderqueer. I'm just not sure how I can, I guess kinda test that theory."

"If you think Robin can help then it might be worth looping them in. As for testing things, does Robin maybe have something you could borrow when you feel like, as you describe it, want to feel pretty? See how it feels when you wear something pretty and feminine when you feel like doing so? Maybe try a little bit of makeup on one of those days as well, some lipgloss and some mascara if you don't want to go all the way at first. Something else you can do to test it, is to ask those you're ok with knowing to refer to you as they or them all the time. Or trying asking to be referred to by whichever pronoun fits your day and see if that feels better or worse than they them. I personally change based on the day so she her on a fem day, he him on a masc day and they them on a neither day, but I have a friend that always uses they them. Do what you're comfortable with and tell who you want to tell and what you want them to know."

"I'll give that a shot. Thank you so much. You have no idea how helpful this has already been. So many thoughts and feelings I didn't know what to do with but now I do. I appreciate this!"

"No need to thank me, I'm here for as many of these chats as is needed, or just any chat if that's what you'd like. You're also always welcome in Indy at the bar or at any of the clubs we go to. That reminds me! We're off to a gig in a few weeks! You and Robin should come, you'll love it. I can't remember the details off hand but I'll make sure you get them really soon!" J rushed excitedly.

"I'd love to! I'll have to ask Robin later but I'm sure I can convince her. Just give me a call with the details when you've got them. I'm sure we'll be able to make it work. Oh shit, speaking of work I have a shift to go get ready for. Thanks again, really."

"Yeah same here. Have a good shift love, speak soon." J says cheerily hanging up the phone.

A hand was waving in front of his, no their face. A voice was coming from nearby too but they couldn't quite make out what it was saying. Steve shook their head to try and bring themselves out of it. They hadn't realized how long he'd been, shit no, they'd been zoning out again.

"Earth to Steve! Hello! Stevie!" Robin was slowly raising her voice with every word. They were supposed to be putting returns away but had apparently frozen in place, tape raised half way to where it belonged.

"Fuck. Sorry Robs. I just have a lot on my mind lately. Did you need something?" They asked, giving Robin an apologetic smile.

"No, you just froze. You can't do that man!" Steve must have made a face with the way Robin was looking at them, eyebrows raised in confusion. They weren't very good at hiding their emotions from their face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Alright then, spill it. What's going on in that head of yours? Is it Eddie again?"

"No, not at all actually. Look, we're supposed to lock the doors in ten minutes. What Keith doesn't know won't hurt him. You go ahead and lock up while I put the last of these returns away and then I promise to tell you all about it."

"Fine. You better be quick with those then!" Robin yelled over her shoulder as she made her way towards the door.

"Remember me telling you about J?" Steve asked, pushing the return cart back to the counter so they wouldn't have to look at her. This wasn't going to be as easy as the conversation with J had been. Explaining something like this to someone who didn't already have some knowledge when they were just figuring it out themselves was going to be difficult.

"Do we need to sit down? Steal some of the candy from the counter? It seems like we should get comfortable for this. But yes, I remember you telling me about them." She replied as she hopped up to sit on the counter, Steve doing the same and grabbing a bag of M&Ms for each of them.

"Well I had a long chat with them on the phone a couple of days ago."

"Steve, why are you calling your crush's current partner? I know you said they seemed nice and all but doesn't that feel a little weird for you?"

"I know how it sounds but it's got nothing to do with Eddie. I've never met anyone like them before so I didn't really have anyone else that I could have called. Remember me telling you about them being genderqueer?" They asked, not looking at Robin again. They couldn't look at her. Didn't want her to read them before they said anything like she always did.

"I remember. Hey Stevie, look at me." Robin said softly while placing a hand on Steve's shoulder, waiting for them to look before she continued. "Whatever it is you can tell me. I can tell this is difficult for you but I promise that whatever it is I'm still going to be here for you. You can't get rid of me that easy."

"Well what if I told you that I think I might be like that too? Since I met them I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Wondering if maybe I was like them. I've dug out some things I shoved to the back of my mind and looking at it that way, well it's all starting to make sense." He, fuck not again. This was going to take some getting used to but they had to admit that they were liking the sound of it. They were struggling to still look at Robin. Crying on the phone, even a little, with J had been enough. They were going to try not to cry again now but that wouldn’t be so easy while looking at Robin.

“Steve, of course that’s not even a problem.” Robin reassured as she pulled them into a crushing hug.

“Really?” Steve asked, already sniffling. Their goal of not crying already long gone. After a reassuring squeeze from Robin, they did their best to give her a summarized version of the conversation they had with J. Robin occasionally interrupting to ask questions.

“I’m really just glad that you’ve found something that’s giving you a better understanding of yourself. You said J gave you some suggestions for things that might help. Is there anything I can do?” She asked. How had they gotten so lucky that this was their best friend? Steve hadn’t even needed to ask for her help, she was just offering it willingly. Deep down they knew that this is how Robin would react but there was still that doubt that had lingered, trying to convince them otherwise.

“Um, could you maybe try using they them pronouns for me? It might be helpful to hear someone else use them instead of just in my own head.”

“Are you just picking the easier option?” There Robin goes again, reading Steve so easily. She knew they would pick whatever felt like it’d be easier for others instead of what they really wanted. “If you’d prefer different ones depending on how you’re feeling all you have to do is ask. I don’t mind, even if I have to ask you every day.”

Now Steve was really crying hard, awful noises and all. “Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

“You quit that shit right now. I’ll do whatever you tell me you prefer. None of that people pleasing nonsense alright? This isn’t about others. This is about you. What makes you happy. What makes you comfortable.”

“I’d really like that Robs. Thank you.” They admitted, taking a tissue from the box on the counter and wiping their face. There was still so much more they wanted to do to help them know if it truly fit but this was the first and most difficult step. They knew that as long as they had Robin, the rest would be easy.

Robin had been an even bigger help than ever imagined. She had brought over a couple clothing pieces that felt a little more feminine than something Steve would normally wear, trying to ease into it. Just like she promised, she checked in first thing every time she saw Steve to see what pronouns to use for the day. There had been a few times she’d been over to their house, makeup bag in hand, convincing Steve to at least try a little eyeliner too.

Even though Steve hadn’t been brave enough to wear any of it out of the house, besides the earrings Robin had given them, they had to admit that it was all really helpful. It was making them more confident. They no longer thought they might be genderqueer, they knew it now. Robin using different pronouns for them had been the biggest help so far. She’d taken to calling them Stevie on days that they’d felt more feminine and alternating between Steve and Stevie and days where they’d just felt more like they were somewhere in between.

She had been sitting on the couch in a skirt and top that Robin had picked up from a thrift store for her, having been talked into eyeliner too, when there was an obnoxious knocking at her door. They had just been talking about Stevie coming out to the kids. After nervously staring at each other, Robin had gotten up to answer the door. Of course it had been none other than the kids, like somehow they knew they were being talked about.

Robin had been trying to convince them to just leave when Stevie decided to yell to just let them in. Might as well have gone for it then and get it over with. Robin threatened the group that if they had been anything but kind and accepting then they could forget all their rides to the arcade, access to Stevie’s pool, and reminding them that she knew where they all slept at night before letting them in.

There were lots of questions as anticipated but after it was all said and done, the kids had been accepting. Forgetting the reason they’d all shown up in the first place, they ended up watching movies and ordering pizza.

“Come on Robin let’s go!” Stevie yelled from the front of Family Video. Robin had gone in the back for something she had forgotten.

“I can’t find it!” Robin yelled back as she left the back room.

“Can’t find what?”

“My bag with my change of clothes!” She sighed, throwing her arms up in the air.

“Robin, it’s in my car. Remember when I picked you up earlier you decided to leave it in the car so you wouldn’t forget it since we plan on getting ready at Eddie’s instead of here?” Stevie sighed, palm smacking her forehead.

“That’s right! Now let’s go!” Robin grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the door and to the car.

"Robin play nice ok?" Stevie asked as they got out of the car.

"I'm not making any promises." She answered, shrugging her shoulders.

"Come on! Please can we just try and have a good time?"

"We'll have a good time but I can't promise the same for him."

"Ugh, don't make me regret this." She said as she knocked on the door.

"Hey!! Come in come in!" J said cheerily when they answered the door. "You must be Robin, Steve's told me so much about you"

"Hi, it's nice to meet you. Stevie here has told me a good bit about you too."

"Let's go and get ready! This way!" J exclaimed, walking away.

After following J into another room, they started getting ready. Robin convinced Stevie to let her do her eyeliner but of course she wasn't done there. With a mischievous look on her face, Robin handed her a leather jacket.

"Hey, erm, Stevie." J said, uncharacteristically timid, "I've got you a little present. It's just a little something that I really found helps me and I thought they might help you too." J opened the drawer they were standing next to and handed Stevie a little paper package. Hesitantly opening the package, she found three bracelets, pink, purple, and blue.

"I have similar ones, I use them to tell those who know what kind of day I'm having." J explained showing Stevie and Robin their wrist to show a pink band. "It's subtle enough that it's not obvious if people don't know but it saves everyone asking if you prefer gender specific pronouns depending on the day. I also keep them with me in case I need to change it"

"These are perfect! We've been trying to think of something for that but never thought of this. Thank you!" Stevie exclaimed, throwing herself at J for a teary eyed hug.

"Sorry I didn't get you anything Robin but I wasn't sure what would be appropriate" J smiled sheepishly.

"You've obviously been a big help Stevie in a way I never could be. That's more than enough."

"I was hardly going to let her struggle with this without some guidance, but thank you, means a lot coming from her platonic soulmate as you're called" J beamed at Robin.

Eddie opened his front door and was immediately met with the sound of laughter. He stood and listened for a few seconds before gently closing the door and slipping his jacket and shoes off. Rushing into his bedroom he grabbed everything he needed for a shower and to get ready.

He was sitting in the living room 30 minutes later waiting for everyone to be ready so they could go. The guest bedroom door opened and J stepped out wearing a pair of really short shorts, a mesh top over a small tight vest top.

"Holy shit baby, you look amazing. Get over here I've missed you" Eddie said, making grabby hands in J's direction. "So beautiful" he whispered before bending down and meeting her lips in a kiss.

"Munson" Robin said from behind J causing Eddie to look up and look in her direction.

Standing next to Robin was Steve. Wearing a see through black blouse, with nipple piercings on show, that was something that Eddie couldn't think about too hard right now. Steve also wore a pair of red tartan pants with combat boots underneath, and a leather jacket, no no scrap that he was wearing Eddie's leather jacket. Did Steve know it was Eddies? He had too, right? Steve had chosen to wear a jacket that belonged to Eddie.

Eddie cleared his throat and dragged his eyes away from Steve "Buckley, Harrington. Good to see you both." he said, looking at Robin who looked far too amused for Eddie's liking.

"Hey J, could I talk to you for a second?" Robin asks, nodding her head to the side to hint at a private conversation.

"Yeah cause you can! What's up?!" J asked, leaning in close to the other girl.

"I just wanted to thank you for helping Stevie. I wouldn't have been able to help her with this so I'm glad she had someone to go to."

"I remember how difficult it was at first to figure it all out. You've been amazing and supportive as well, she's lucky to have you too" J replied hugging Robin.

"I'm just so proud of her. Making little steps forward. Look at her! She even let me do her eyeliner and she's never let me do that before when we're going somewhere."

"Erm I'm sorry, 'she'?" Eddie asked, surprised.

"Um, yeah about." Stevie says, rubbing the back of her neck and looking down.

"Look it's cool if you don't want to say" Eddie smiles.

"No. It's fine. It's just not a lot of people know right now so it's a little difficult still."

"Take your time, tell me whatever you want and leave out the bits you don't." Eddie encouraged.

"Well, I do kind of have you to thank for it. I never would have met J otherwise and without meeting them and their willingness to help, I don't think I ever really would have figured it out"

"She is pretty amazing," Eddie says, pulling J against himself.

"Well I uh, shit. This is harder than I thought it'd be."

"It's ok, you've got this" J smiles at Stevie encouragingly.

"Thanks to some advice from J and help from Robin, I've figured out that…" Stevie hesitates, trying to gather some courage.

Eddie notices Stevie's bracelet. "Oohhh! I think I get it. Steve, are you trying to tell me that you're genderqueer?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah. I am." Stevie whispers, not yet willing to really look at Eddie.

"Okay. Thank you for telling me. Is it okay to ask about your pronouns?" the metalhead questions softly.

"Yeah of course. Going with the day seems to be best. Which is why…" Stevie says, wiggling her wrist with the pink bracelet on towards Eddie.

"That's a great idea! I'll try my best to keep an eye on the bracelet and go with that. Is it they/them on a neither day? Just want to check." Eddie asks.

"Thank you. Yeah it is." Stevie finally looks at Eddie with a smile.

"Shall we head out then ladies? I'm a lucky man tonight! 3 beautiful ladies on my arm. Let's go!" Eddie exclaims, grabbing J's hand and heading towards the door.

The bar was already crowded when Eddie, J, Stevie and Robin walked in. They made their way to the bar and picked up a round of drinks before heading to the dance floor to watch the warm up band. They spent hours dancing with each other, laughing, joking and really enjoying the live music, getting slightly more drunk as the night went on.

"You want a drink sweetheart?" Eddie shouted, as to be heard, in Stevie's ear, causing her to turn. They were face to face, nose to nose pretty much and suddenly there was no one around. The crowded, loud, club that was filled with people dancing and music blasting was suddenly empty if you asked Eddie. He couldn't handle it. The proximity was too close. His hand on Stevie's waist felt like it was burning. The air was suffocating. He needed to get away from there as quickly as he could. So he did what, if you ask Eddie, he does best, he ran. Left his glass on the bar and ran outside and round the corner.

"Hey baby, you ok? Heard you ran out of there quickly," came the voice of J beside him. "everything ok?" She sounded worried. She shouldn't be worried. How does he explain the crisis he's having right now over someone he may possibly be in love with when his partner is right there. Eddie couldn't stomach it any longer, he turned away from J and threw up. All over the disgusting alleyway they stood in and broke down in tears.

"I'm going to head back in really quickly and let Robin and Stevie know we're heading back. I'll leave my key with Stevie so they can let themselves in when they're done." J said as she ran soothing circles down his back.

20 minutes later Eddie was tucked up in bed with a glass of water on his bedside table, pain killers next to it and an old washing up bowl on the floor. Looking at these things made everything so much worse. He did not deserve the person currently getting ready for bed in his bathroom. He lay awake for hours, long after J had fallen asleep next to him, her soft breathing normally soothing him but doing anything but tonight. Long after Robin and Stevie returned home and made far too much noise getting ready for bed, giggling and shushing each other. Long after he sobered up and the headache had started, he didn't take the painkillers next to him, he deserved the pain. He had no idea what to do. J was amazing, they got on so well and whilst they currently weren't serious, Eddie had a feeling it could definitely head that way.

Finally just after 8am Eddie got out of bed and threw on his comfiest clothes heading to the kitchen and to make coffee.

He was 2 cups in when J joined him in the living room.

"Wanna talk about it?" J asked, sitting next to Eddie on the couch.

"I don't know what you mean, I just couldn't sleep. Maybe too much sugar in my mixers, I don't know, I'm ok, go back to bed. We'll all head out to breakfast when everyone is up again." He replied, trying his best to smile.

"Eddie, I'm not stupid, please don't treat me as such." came the reply.

"Sorry, you're right." He whispered, slipping his arm around J and pulling her into him, kissing her temple.

"Does your weird behaviour recently, and especially last night, have anything to do with that hunk of a brunette sleeping in the guest room?" J asked, slipping their arm around him and kissing his cheek.

"Yeah," Eddie confessed.

"Thank you for telling me. Steve is amazing. They'll be lucky to have you."

"What?!" Eddie questioned, shocked.

"Eddie, I've already reminded you once I'm not stupid. I've seen the way Stevie looks at you and I've seen the way you look at them. You were stripping them with your eyes last night when they stepped out of the guest room ready to go out. Stevie’s eyes followed you all around the gig last night, and they'll probably kill me if you say anything but I'm almost certain I saw them sniff your jacket when they put it on. You two have a connection. I don't know what happend before you left Hawkins but it connected you two." J replied, smiling up at Eddie.

"What are you saying?" Eddie asked. Both not wanting the answer but really wanting to know at the same time.

"I'm saying you need to go and get your person. Eddie, me and you were meant to be, but not meant to last. I will always cherish our time together and you're absolutely never getting rid of me but that shit" J said gesturing between Eddie and the guest room. "is true love."

"I love you J. So fucking much" Eddie replied wetly wiping his tears away.

"I know" J responded before the door down the hall opened and a very sleepy looking Robin emerged.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #robin buckley

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