#i am so nervous about the drains help

[alilbabysprout]

i'm getting top surgery on july 15th !! any advice/tips/kind words would be so so appreciated <3

[ochazos]

// I'm getting the department transfer i wanted finally. I don't need to stay sitting right beside the racist woman that called me fat and is passive aggressive to me all the time anymore.

[bangcakes]

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[rioromanoffroses]

Ovulation

G!P Natasha Romanoff x Fem Reader

Warnings: 18+ content, masturbating, oral sex (R and Natasha receiving), finger sucking, dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex (P in V), overstimulation

Summary: You're ovulating while on a mission, causing you to be uncomfortably aroused. Luckily, the agent with you is more than eager to help you out...

WC: 4.1k

The motel was just like any other – grey, dusty and lit only by dim off-white. You would only be here for a night and when you pressed your hand against the cold metal of the radiator, you were glad. You debated whether or not you ask the receptionist about it but keeping your head low was key when travelling on an undercover mission. The more questions you asked and the more times your face was seen and captured by CCTV, the greater the risks. You decided against it.

You inspected the bedroom, following safety procedures which included searching for signs of any electronic devices but luckily, there were none. The bed was a small double with beige, striped sheets that were thinner than you would’ve liked. The back wall was taken up entirely by a sturdy, wooden cupboard that matched the tawny-brown, bedside tables covered in dust. You switched on the lamp and ran your hand over the mattress, noting that you would need to wear thick layers of clothing to bed. You assumed the other bedroom was the same but didn’t bother checking. The other agent could do that.

You sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing your forehead with the palm of your hand. One of the things you hated most about being a woman and a spy was the problems it caused when it conflicted with your cycle. Missions on your period were uncomfortable, draining and painful. Ovulation week was also a mess; you had no way of dealing with the surge of hormones it triggered while on a mission. You made a mental note to take a cold shower after the other agent arrived. 

You read over the intel for the upcoming mission while you waited for them, straining your ears for the door. It was a complicated mission; you had to infiltrate the base of a growing terrorist organisation and hack into their systems to gather as much information about them as you could. S.H.I.E.L.D. knew scarily little about the organisation so you were going in almost blind – anything could happen. 

The plan was for two agents, including you, to blend in as one of the terrorists to get into the base. You were unaware of the identity of the agent you were paired with. You were curious to know if they were someone you’d worked with before or a complete stranger. You assumed the latter – you were still young and hadn’t been assigned to many difficult missions yet. You tightened your arms around yourself, shivering as the light outside the window was sucked from the sky, the moon blocked out by an array of dark, restless clouds. 

“You look cold.” You jumped and leapt on your feet, spinning around to see a woman standing behind you. Her face was painted with a smirk and she looked at you with her hands on her hips, her jade eyes travelling up and down your body. You swallowed. How did you not hear her come in? S.H.I.E.L.D. weren’t exaggerating when they said she was the very best they had at espionage. You didn’t realise you were staring at her until she brought you out of your thoughts, “Cat got your tongue?”

“Uh, sorry,” you said, clearing your throat, “Yeah, I am. East Europe is always freezing at this time of year.” You could feel sweat trickling down your neck. Not only were you ovulating on a mission but you were stuck with an extremely attractive woman during it. You were so fucked. 

“Mm, it is,” she said, stepping towards you and offering out her hand. You noticed the electrified branches of azure and emerald running down her arms up to her fingers, pushing up against the skin, your heart thundering against your ribcage. You quickly pulled yourself out of your trance. You were a spy for goodness sake, not the nervous wreck or helpless whore your elevated levels of estrogen were making you feel like. You shook her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said, “I’m Agent Y/l/n.” You pulled your hand away from hers before she could pick up on your clammy palms but unbeknownst to you, she’d already felt them. 

“I know,” she said, “I’m Agent Romanoff but to you, it’s Natasha.” You could feel your breath hitch in your throat. Natasha. You could already imagine how those three, pretty syllables would feel falling off your tongue. 

You dismissed your dirty thoughts immediately, feeling ashamed of yourself. She was a stranger and your teammate; you seriously needed to pull yourself together. She nodded to the file in your hand, “I see you’re already prepared for the mission.”

“I was just double-checking all the details,” you said. The tight, black shirt and jeans she was wearing hugged her in all the right places, her sculpted arms in full view to you. She must take her training seriously, you thought, I wonder how often she goes to the gym.

“Good,” she said, dropping her bag on the floor, “I already know I’ll enjoy working with you.” You placed your hands behind your back so she couldn’t see your fidgeting fingers. Your gaze fell onto the bag and you frowned.

“Oh, were you planning on sleeping in here?” You said, “I’ll move to the other room then.” She held her arm in front of you as you stepped towards the door. 

“There isn’t another room.” You felt your heart drop. You realised the other door must be to the bathroom. You couldn’t imagine how your situation could get any worse, “Are you unhappy with that arrangement?”

“No, not at all,” you lied, “I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.” You swallowed, hard. You started moving towards the door, “I’m going to take a shower,” you mumbled, not waiting for her answer. You fumbled with the handle, cursing under your breath and slammed the door shut behind you. 

You didn’t waste any time taking off your clothes and turning on the shower, sighing as the cold droplets collided with your burning skin. The water only offered you a few moments of relief, however. The more you thought about the redhead and how close you’d be together that night, the more you fed the raging arousal between your legs. It became clear that there was only one way you were going to calm yourself down.

You covered your hand with your mouth as you touched yourself, your mind overwhelmed by images of Natasha. It didn’t take long for you to reach your climax and you were certain that the sound of the shower and your hand had muffled out all your moans. You cleaned yourself before stepping out, drying yourself with a towel and getting dressed, praying that your body would be satisfied for the night. When you returned to the bedroom, Natasha was on the bed facing you, resting a pillow on her lap.

“You’re even prettier in real life than you are in your pictures,” she said, the unexpected compliment drowning you in butterflies. You noticed that her cheeks were flushed a bright red and her breaths seemed more laboured than before. 

“Really?” you said in disbelief. You had never seen yourself as unattractive but you didn’t think you were anything special either. You were nothing compared to the Goddess in front of you, that was for sure. She chuckled.

“You’re a humble one,” she mused, “How cute.” You couldn’t quite believe her words. Natasha thought you, of all people, were humble? You searched the room, looking for any kind of escape from the conversation and spotted a clock hung above the bed.

“It’s getting late,” you said, trying to hide your stutter, “I’ll sleep on the floor.” You knew it would be uncomfortable but anything was better than being next to Natasha. You’d slept in awkward places before so you’d just have to deal with it.

“No you won’t,” she said, shuffling to the other side of the bed and lifting the sheets, “There’s room for both of us, see?” The amount of room wasn’t the problem – it was the proxemics between you and the internal chaos your body was experiencing. How were you supposed to explain that to Natasha though? You noticed the moment your eyes fell on her that her autonomy wasn’t the same as yours so she wouldn’t understand your dilemma.

“Uh, okay,” you said, knowing you had no choice. You never sounded nervous or vulnerable, not even with your close family and friends. If embarrassment was a type of poison, you’d have collapsed in agony by now. You climbed into bed beside Natasha, turning your back to her. You were reminded of how small the bed was when you shifted slightly and felt her hand brush against the small of your back. You took a deep breath. You were in for a long night. 

She switched off the bedside lamp and to your horror, you could hear her unbutton her jeans and discard them on the floor. It was almost as if she was doing it on purpose. You tensed your muscles, forcing yourself to stay as still as humanely possible so there was less chance of you accidentally making contact with each other again.

“That’s better,” she mumbled and you felt her leg against yours as she adjusted her position to make herself more comfortable. You didn’t know how long it took for you to fall asleep with her body so close to yours, her breath creating goosebumps along every part of your skin that it hit. Unfortunately, you found out the hard way that your head was the worst place to escape to you in your current state. 

You woke up, gasping and blinded by the darkness around you. You pushed yourself up, feeling the slick on your thighs from the filthy dream you had just experienced. Natasha’s head had been buried between your thighs and you had been an absolute mess beneath her. You could honestly die from humiliation – how could your mind conjure up something so vile while you were sleeping next to her? As you were about to move off the bed and sprint into the bathroom, a light was switched on and you felt a hand tighten around your wrist. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Natasha said, a dark rasp accompanying her words, “You are not going into the bathroom to fuck yourself again.” Your eyes widened and you felt a tide of heat rush to your cheeks. She’d heard you. 

“I’m so sorry,” you said, “I shouldn’t have, it was really inappropriate of me…” She silenced you by straddling your hips, trapping you beneath her on the bed. Before you could react, you were distracted by the feeling of something hard against your stomach. You looked down to see Natasha in only her boxers, the bulge pressing against your abdomen straining in its confines. Your jaw dropped. It had never even occurred to you that there was a chance she’d want you too.

“I was going to let you make the first move,” she said, “But you took too long.” From how the other agents described you, she had been so sure your boldness and confidence would’ve caused you to spring onto her immediately. She was annoyed that she’d had to listen to you pleasure yourself in the shower without her but at the same time, Natasha loved that her presence had changed your demeanour so much. 

You gulped and looked up into her eyes, seeing that her iris had shrunk into a thin line around her blown pupils. You drunk in the sight of her on top of you, placing your hands on top of her bare, supple thighs, her skin like velvet beneath you. 

“Fuck,” you breathed. She tilted up your chin, running her thumb over your bottom lip, wanting a better view of you.

“Tsk tsk. Such a dirty mouth.” You knew you shouldn’t be letting her walk all over you but you were enjoying it more than you wanted to admit. She lifted herself off your body so she could move her other hand to the waistband of your trousers. She hooked a finger underneath the material, “Can I?” You nodded and she dug her nails into your chin, “I want to hear you say it.” You weren’t used to this power dynamic – you were always the more dominant one. 

“Yes,” you said, “You can. Please.” She grinned at your obedience and slipped her hand into your pants, feeling you drip onto her fingertips. She groaned.

“Oh God, you’re so wet already,” she said, “I could stuff you with my cock right now if I wanted to.” She removed her hand from your underwear and brought it to your mouth, pushing her fingers past your lips. You sucked her digits hungrily, tasting yourself on your tongue. The sight only drove Natasha even crazier but she also felt a pang of envy, wishing it was her cock in your mouth instead. You felt so good around her fingers.

After pulling her digits out of your mouth, she lowered herself onto your body and she didn’t hesitate to connect her lips with yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. Her lips moulded against yours perfectly and you moved in sync with her, your kisses becoming more and more desperate. She could taste your sweetness as she kissed you and she forced herself to forget about breathing, not wanting to pull away for even a second. Her hands cupped your face and you reached up to tangle yours in her hair, her lips staining yours with garnet lust. 

You pulled her even closer against your chest, your mind a buzz of her and her only. You let her tongue slide between your teeth when you felt it press against your bottom lip, making no effort to fight against it with your own. She swallowed your whines, her crotch grinding against your thigh. You had never hooked up with anyone before; you weren’t that kind of person. But you were willing to break all your rules for Natasha and give every part of you to her without hesitation. 

Her mouth moved to your jawline, littering your face with kisses, her hands trailing down your arms. You shivered under her feather-light touch, gasping as her teeth sunk into your neck, intending to leave a bruise that everyone else would see. She tugged at the hem of your shirt.

“Take it off,” she said. She leaned back to give you space to pull it over your head and unhook your bra before she pounced on you like an animal. She traced her fingers over your collarbones before venturing further down to your chest, her fingers circling your nipples. You arched into her touch as she caressed your breasts, her movements sending a spark straight to your core. You reached down to cup her bulge, noticing the wet patch on her boxers but she slapped your hand away, “No touching,” she snapped. 

“Please, Natasha,” you said, “I need you; it hurts.” She tutted.

“Patience,” she husked. She pulled away from you and started taking off her clothes, freeing her aching breasts before pushing down her boxers. Her erection sprang out from the material, the tip inflamed and ringed by an enraged red, pre-cum dribbling onto the sheets beneath her. 

She led back onto the pillow, giving you a full view of her body and you took a moment to admire her. Everything about her was a masterpiece – her facial features, her muscles, her curves. Her crimson hair was a mess around her shoulders and the front pieces had fallen forward, framing her face, “I want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours.” You shook your head.

“No, Natasha,” you pleaded, “It’ll feel so much better in my pussy, I promise…” You fell silent as her eyes burnt into you. You reluctantly crawled over to her on all fours, hesitating before wrapping your mouth around the tip. You tried to irk her, moving as slow as possible but she grabbed a hold of your head and started pushing you down on her cock. 

“Suck.” You gagged around her length as she started bucking her hips upwards so she was fucking your mouth but the sound only drove her more. It didn’t take long for you to start moving your head up and down her cock without any guidance, guttural moans escaping Natasha’s mouth from the warmth and skill of your tongue, “Fuck, that shut you up.”

Tears spilt down your cheeks as she hit the back of your throat over and over again, the vibrations of your whines sending even more waves of pleasure through her body. She lifted her legs onto your shoulders so you could grab onto her thighs, spurring you on even more, “I’m so close,” she breathed. Her thrusts were messy and out of rhythm by the time she came undone, spilling her cum into your mouth. You made sure to swallow it all. 

She pulled her cock out of your mouth, a mixture of cum and drool coating her length, some of it dribbling down your chin, “You did so well. Such a good slut for me.” She took a moment to catch her breath, watching with eagerness as you pulled down your trousers and your panties that were positively ruined, throwing them on the floor. There were tears of white running down your legs and your clit was visibly swollen. She smirked wickedly, “You want me that bad, huh?”

“Please, I’ve been a good girl,” you whined. You tried to reach for her again but she caught hold of your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Lie down.” You went to lay on your back but she grabbed your shoulders, her nails indenting crescent-moons into your skin before pushing you down onto your stomach. You gasped as her hand pressed against your cunt, her fingers running through your sensitive folds. Her movements were slow and deliberate, intending to increase your need but not give in to it.

“More,” you begged as her thumb massaged your clit. The smell of sex was heavy in the air and your senses were intoxicated by the vanilla and brown sugar fragrance of her perfume. She gave your clit a sharp pinch in response to your pleas, causing you to inhale a sharp intake of breath.

“You’re insatiable,” she said, “You’re begging to be fucked by a woman you just met. Like a whore.” You started rubbing your crotch against her hand, your motions erratic and frantic. 

“More, please,” you cried, your thoughts becoming incoherent as the need between your legs started to burn, “Please, Natasha.” She pushed two fingers inside of you, stretching out your entrance but making sure to avoid your g-spot. 

“Tell me what you want.” 

“I want you inside of me,” you groaned as she added a third digit to your cunt. Natasha started to play with her breasts using her free hand; she was burning for you just as badly as you were for and the sound of your begging only worsened her desire. It took all the strength in her body to hold herself back and not ruin you right there and then. She was so glad you couldn’t see her.

“I am inside of you.” You whined.

“I want your cock. I need it inside of me, please.” She grabbed hold of your hips, smirking. As much as she enjoyed seeing you so needy for her, her patience was wearing thin.

“Then you’ll take it all.” She suddenly rammed inside you without any warning, not being able to resist you for any longer and you cried out in shock. Your initial discomfort was drowned by explosive bliss as Natasha filled you to the brim, hitting places you didn’t even know existed. She was met with no resistance as she rutted into you despite her size which stretched you out deliciously. Your pussy was so much better than she could’ve ever imagined.

She flattened herself against your back, needing to feel more of you. She grunted against your ear as her hips slammed into your ass with each powerful stroke. You were dizzy with pleasure as her speed increased, your moans intensifying as she started to pound into your sweet spot. She was older and more experienced than anyone you had been with before which was evident in how she was making you feel. Your body was coursing with more pleasure than you thought was humanely possible. 

The knot in your stomach was tightening fast and the sounds of your wet cunt were echoing through the room, “Oh fuck, you’re so tight,” Natasha said, not caring about her dignity anymore, too lost in the sensation of your warmth clenching around her cock, “Tell me how you feel baby.” 

“I feel so, so good,” you said, “Please, don’t stop.” You looked back at her and she tilted her head so your lips could connect for a moment before her mouth moved to your shoulder. She sucked on the soft skin there, slowing down so she could sink deeper into your cunt. She could feel your legs trembling beneath her own as you pushed back in rhythm with each of her thrusts.

“How close are you?” Natasha didn’t want to admit it but she was already teetering on the edge, struggling to hold back from how well you were taking her. You could feel her movements become sloppy as more and more of your juices gushed from your entrance. 

“So close,” you said, your walls clenching even harder around her cock. It only took a few more thrusts before you could feel gasoline flood your bloodstream, ready to be set on fire, “Natasha, f-fuck…” You didn’t even have to say it.

“Let go for me,” she commanded. You let the knot in your stomach unravel, screaming her name as all the nerves in your body were electrified, sparks of searing light shooting across your vision. No drug could replicate the state of euphoria you were both lost in as your walls were drowned by white, your cunt milking her cock dry until there wasn’t a single drop left to give. You had never experienced an orgasm so strong, so prolonged, so incredible. You expected Natasha to stop after fucking you through your high but instead, she picked up her pace again. You whimpered.

“Natasha, that’s enough…” She pulled out of you and flipped you onto your back before slipping straight back inside of you. Your eyes widened. 

“What’s wrong?” she mocked, “You begged for my cock, slut. Isn’t this what you wanted?” She smirked when you didn’t give her an answer, already drowning in ecstasy again despite the building ache between your legs. You were losing your grip on reality as the new angle gave her access to more places inside of you and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you were overstimulated. 

She didn’t take her eyes off you, wanting to see your reaction to everything she gave you. You were growing more sensitive by the second and you could feel her cock throbbing against your walls each time you squeezed her, drops of perspiration gleaming on every inch of your skin. You reached up to cup Natasha’s breasts, the extra layer of stimulation pushing her towards yet another climax in record time. 

She started to rub your clit, hoping to speed up your release but it was becoming evident she’d have to release without you. You wrapped your legs around her waist, pulling her even closer and for a moment, she forgot your pleasure, getting too lost in her own. She tore her eyes away from you and threw her head back, panting like a dog. 

“Cum inside me,” you said and at the sound of your words, she didn’t hesitate, letting her orgasm crash into her body with full force. She moaned your name between gasps as she was hit by waves of bliss that slowly decreased in intensity as the milliseconds passed, pulsing through her entire body. She finally pulled out of you and collapsed on the bed. You both gasped for breath, your thighs and the sheets beneath you stained with lust. You were glad you hadn’t climaxed this time – you didn’t think you’d have survived it. 

“That was fucking incredible,” Natasha admitted, turning her head to face you. You nodded in agreement, too fucked out to form a sentence, your limbs still shaking from adrenaline.

That morning, Natasha woke you up with her cock between your legs, already hard and ready for another round. Her hands only left your body during the mission and three days later after its success, she didn’t hesitate to fuck you senseless until you passed out.

Part 2

[steddieas-shegoes]

i don’t know why i can’t take my eyes off of you

for @steddielovemonth day one using You and Me by Lifehouse

rated t | 1186 words | no cw | tags: future fic, second chances, mutual pining, idiots in love, songwriter Eddie, teacher Steve

🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒

Steve’s walking down the frozen section of Melvald’s when time stops.

Not literally. The watch on his wrist is still ticking. The clock on the wall at the front of the store is still moving. People around him are still grabbing their groceries.

But Eddie Munson is standing in front of the ice cream section like he belongs there.

Eddie left Hawkins five years ago.

He kissed Steve on the lips, then the forehead, and left.

Steve’s thought about it, about him, every day since.

Eddie hasn’t noticed him yet. Maybe Steve should leave before he does. Last he’d heard, Eddie was working at a recording studio as a songwriter, halfway making his dreams come true.

He’s happy, or at least that’s what all the kids have said when he’s brought up. They don’t know about the kiss, at least Steve doesn’t think they do. He’s never told them.

It’s busy enough in the store that Steve’s pretty sure he can sneak away before Eddie sees him. He starts to back away, but immediately bumps into an old woman.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” He’s asking, and she’s brushing him off and saying she’s fine. He feels terrible.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice is like music, always has been a melody made specifically for Steve.

“Eddie,” Steve says as the old woman walks away. “Hey.”

Steve forgets he’s in public as the world around him fades and all he sees, smells, wants, is Eddie.

“I didn’t know you were still in Hawkins,” Eddie says quietly, leaning forward on his toes. He’s got a new battle vest, though it looks well-worn. Steve wonders if he knows that his old vest is hanging in his closet, if he knows that Steve pulls it out every once in a while so he can put it on and feel a little less alone.

“Yeah. Never left.” It sounds worse than it is. Steve always said he’d leave when all the kids left, but once they did, he didn’t know where to go. It’s not like he could follow them around, couch-surfing across the country a month or two at a time, burdening them with his self-imposed loneliness.

“You look good,” Eddie says, changing the subject.

Leaving Hawkins was a touchy subject for Steve the last time he’d seen Eddie. It still is. Eddie must sense that.

“So do you,” Steve breathes out. He does. He looks healthy and happy, something Hawkins had completely drained from him before. “What are you doing back?”

“Just visiting Wayne. Usually he comes to see me, but he insisted he didn’t wanna deal with the ‘big city’ this time. And I’m the best nephew, so I said ‘sure, old man, I’ll go back to the town that hates my guts!’ And here I am trying to find my favorite ice cream at the store. They don’t have it,” Eddie shrugs. He rambles when he’s nervous, still. “He hasn’t mentioned seeing you around or anything, though.”

“Yeah, I guess we don’t cross paths much,” Steve laughs awkwardly. He can’t remember the last time he saw Wayne. Must’ve been around Christmas, when Steve was helping Joyce with her decorations while Hopper worked overtime and Wayne stopped by to drop off some lights. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s good. Stubborn as hell. Won’t retire even though he could,” Eddie shakes his head. “Think he’s scared of being bored.”

“Or lonely.”

The words escape Steve before he can hold them back.

Eddie’s face softens, but it’s not full of pity. Everyone always gives Steve this look, like they know he’s putting on a brave face. Not Eddie.

“Wayne’s always been content alone. He’s got friends, and he calls me when he has something new to argue about,” Eddie leans in closer. “I don’t really worry about Wayne. Other people, sure.”

“Like who?” Steve swallows.

“You settle down yet?” Eddie asks in response.

Steve’s so shocked by the question, he doesn’t answer.

“I figured the kids were just being nice by not telling me if you did, but you’re not wearing a ring and you’re grocery shopping alone, so…” Eddie rambles again. Steve feels his heart flutter in his chest.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Are you dating someone?”

Steve shakes his head. “Haven’t really found anyone interesting.”

“Interesting? Since when does Steve Harrington want someone interesting?”

Since the most interesting person he knows kissed him and then left. Since everyone else is boring in comparison to you. Since he realized he was dumb to let you go.

“I guess what I thought I wanted is different now. Has been for a while,” Steve shrugs.

It’s strange how easily Steve becomes wrapped up in Eddie’s orbit, how quickly everything else didn’t matter the moment Eddie started talking to him. It’s just the two of them.

“Excuse me,” a man says to their left. Steve jumps back and apologizes for blocking where he needed to be. Eddie’s eyes never leave Steve.

When the man walks away, Steve clears his throat.

“How long are you in town?”

“How long will it take me to convince you to come back with me?”

Steve chokes on his next breath. “What? Come back with you? To…”

“New York or Chicago. I’m getting a promotion and they’ll let me pick where I wanna go. I’ve been leaning towards Chicago because more of the music I enjoy is making a mark there,” Eddie explains. “And there’s plenty of options for you there, too. Dustin said you just finished your teaching degree.”

“Dustin talks about me?”

“Only when unprovoked,” Eddie grins. “Have you been waiting for me?”

It’s blunt, but Eddie always has been. Steve can hide a lot of emotions from people; It’s been a survival tactic for most of his life.

He’s never been able to hide shit from Eddie.

“Not on purpose.”

Eddie looks at his basket of items. He was really only here for a few things, but he saw his favorite cookies were on sale and he couldn’t resist stocking up. He looks between the basket and Eddie’s eyes.

“You wanna come to mine for dinner?”

“Is dinner cookies?” Eddie laughs, poking at the package closest to the top.

“That’s dessert,” Steve laughs, too. He finds it easy. He never thought it could be this easy after the time that’s passed, the distance they had between them.

“First dessert.”

“What are we, hobbits?” Steve asks.

Eddie’s jaw drops open. “Steve, please. Not in public.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know you read it!” Eddie groans, but he’s smiling, so Steve’s not actually worried.

“I’ve read a lot of things! I’ve been waiting for you, remember?”

An announcement starts in the store— someone’s car is blocking a delivery truck entrance— and they both take a step away from each other. They were much closer than they should be in the grocery store.

This is still Hawkins, and people already don’t like Eddie. Looking cozier than two dudes normally would might be dangerous for both of them.

“So. Dinner?” Steve asks again. It’s easier to remember there are other people around with some distance between them.

“Sure. Dinner.”

Time starts again.

[kissitbttr]

dilf!toji giving you a ride back to the party

a small follow up from this !

|

there has been times where you fantasize about hot older men with your friends. all of you agree that they are just better at everything.

you remember this one time when you had a crush on the first older guy you had found attractive. he was your dad’s closest friend. you had always loved admiring him from afar, undressing him with your eyes, imagining how he’d look as he fucks you in your bed. sadly, he’s married. which means, you can’t do anything about it.

one of your friends encouraged you to break it up though, steal him away from his wife in which you reply with a disgusting look on your face. because never in a million years you would stoop that low.

no guys ever came close as your dad’s best friend after that. dismissing every single college guys who tried to get into your pants, tossing every written numbers on a paper from them into a trash can. your ex was the only exception though. why? because he was two years older than you. that counts for something, right?

until now.

you sit rather quiet nervously in the passenger’s seat. fingers drumming slightly against your thick thighs, stealing glances every now and then at the handsome stranger who offered you a ride before,

and boy, does he look so hot doing it.

he leans comfortably against the seat with one hand on the wheel while the other perched on his thigh. looking like a perfect dream

dear god, please do not make me wet tonight

“thank you for the food, sir. i love it” you give him a smile, shoving another fry into your mouth. “i’m starving”

toji cranes his neck to look at you, mirroring your smile. “i thought i told you to call me toji?”

“oh yeah! sorry, i forgot!” you let out a nervous giggle, finger toying with the skirt of your dress. discreetly pulling it down further since it keeps riding up,

“i didn’t catch your name though. mind telling me?” he starts, putting his focus back on the road while taking a turn,

“i’m y/n” you respond to the beautiful dark haired man,

“pretty name for a pretty girl” he compliments, grinning widely at you. chuckling after seeing you blush. “still in college?”

you nod. “mhmm!”

“you like it?”

“pft! as if!” you roll your eyes, making him laugh at your comment. “college is insanity. too much work, but the parties help”

“i bet” he replies, head shaking. “is it like a regular thing?”

“kind of. we always do it once a week, or twice…? can’t exactly count. the frats usually the one who held it, so I can’t really tell” you shrug your shoulders, eyes looking over to the window. “what about you, sir-toji?”

he snorts, running his fingers over his hair and you almost let out a soft gasp.“oh I don’t party, sweetheart. i’m too old for that.”

“can’t be that old” you giggle, reaching out to poke his side with a finger. you don’t know where that confidence comes from, could be from alcohol,

toji raises an eyebrow at the sudden touch, but makes no comment. “i’m pushing 40, so definitely old” he smirks at you,

40..?

oh…

a look of surprise is taking over your face. “really?” you see him nod again in confirmation. “you don’t look like you’re that old”

“how old did you think i am?”

“hmm, 27?”

he barks a laugh, and you never heard something so pretty. “now you’re just being polite, sweetheart”

god, he really is making you swoon with all the terms of endearment . you wonder if he’s married or taken,

“are you single?”

he’s taken aback at the question, eyebrow raising. “why, want to take me out on a date?”

giggling, you toss a hair behind your shoulder before shrugging it. shifting your body to completely facing him now. “maybeee”

toji only laughs at your confidence. the small pouty look you’re giving just makes him want to give you a peck on the lips. maybe two.

you’re so damn cute, he’d give you that.

“yes, i am. divorced about two years ago.”

“oh… what happened? if you don’t mind me asking.”

he shrugs like it’s nothing. “didn’t work out. the whole marriage was draining me. but i got a little boy who i love dearly and would tear down the whole fucking sky for”

he’s got a kid?! holyshit,

“how old is he?”

“just turned two last month” he smiles at the thought of his little megumi sleeping soundly back home. “how about you, sweetheart? got marriage written down on your plan?”

“oh of course! it’s definitely on my bucket list!” you sigh dreamily at the thought of you walking down the aisle. “not any time soon though! i like being like this for a moment”

“good. you enjoy that while it lasts.” he advises. “hate to overstep, but what’s the deal with your ex before?”

hearing that makes your smile drop and body slouch. eyes dropping down to your lap. “oh..”

toji senses that bubbly personality of your is wearing off soon as he mentions that, which causes him to panic. “shit, I didn’t mean to make you sad, darling. sorry. you don’t have to explain”

you shake your head, clearing your throat. “no, no! it’s fine it was just—“ you cut yourself with a sad sigh. “he wanted.. to have sex with me at the party but.. i didn’t want to.. because we were drunk! and it wouldn’t be right for us to do it while we’re drunk, right?! so i told him no… over and over and — he didn’t take it well so… he called me a boring bitch and broke it off..”

his eyebrows deepening hearing that, hand around the wheel tighten at the thought of some lowlife punk trying to force himself at a sweet girl like you to have sex,

“you fucking with me?” his tone rising, seeing you shake your head as a no. “my god that’s not— sweetheart, you know that it was not your fault right? was that why you looked so sad? because you thought that you should’ve gave him what he wanted?”

you toy with the hem of your skirt, still looking down before nodding. “…yes.. because maybe then he wouldn’t be mad”

“no.. oh god, no.. don’t you ever, ever think that. what you did was the right thing, baby. you should be proud for standing up to yourself, you know that?”

slowly you look up to him, seeing his genuine eyes looking into yours. “okay..”

but toji doesn’t buy that, instead he shakes his head. “no, i want to hear you say it, come on. say ‘i did the right thing’”

a smile slowly creeps up to your face while your cheeks are heating up. “tojiii” you whine,

he smiles back at you, “come on. say it”

“i—i did the right thing” you repeat slowly,

“good girl” he praises, and that almost makes your body goes slump and your thighs to squeeze together,

when was the last time someone called you that?

throughout the ride, you and toji talk a lot about each other. from a-z. and you can’t help but admit how refreshing it is to finally have someone to talk to like this. it was a non-stop conversation, accompanied by the soft tunes playing in the background—thanks to your choice of music—

you may not notice this but toji is purposely taking the long way just so the conversation stays a bit longer,hoping you don’t realize what he’s doing. it’s not like you would actually complain, you enjoy his company.

despite your age, toji finds you to be the most interesting woman he has ever met. the way you talk freely and articulate words when you speak to him is so attractive. he loves a woman who has her own opinion on everything and you had just shown him that.

you’re smart, witty, have a great sense of humor and not to mention,

really fucking gorgeous.

toji feels like a downright pervert when he tries to sneak a glance at your soft plump thighs every second. imagining how they would look around his head. or the fat of your tits when you bounce on his cock, giving him the perfect view. and your lips,

god, your pink. glossy . lips.

“is this the place?” he pulls up in front of the big frat house where he can see a few kids standing on the porch, typical red solo cups in their hands. his eyes carefully observe the scene before him. “shit, they’re really getting shit faced huh?”

you laugh, looking over where one kid had puked all over the lawn making you grimace. “they’re not all like that everyday”

“hmm sure, sweetheart” he rolls his eyes, but smile anyways. “be careful now, yeah? you got my number saved?”

nodding, you take one good look at him before unbuckling your seatbelt. “yup! thank you for the ride, toji. you’re a real life saver!”

“don’t mention it. keep an eye out on any one who wants to try something with you. especially your ex. let me know if he’s bothering you, i’ll come quickly as i can” he informs,

your heart feels like its about to jump out of your chest, “i will, thanks again and oh! wait— can i … see you again?”

he quirks an eyebrow at that, a cocky smirk stretches upon his pretty lips causing you to glance down at it,

“you want to?” his finger and thumb softly tapping against the wheel

“i do” you reply quickly, biting down on your lower lip as your hand fiddle against the handle of his car door. “this can’t be the last time, right?”

no, of course not he thinks. because he wants to see you too. if not more than you want to see him. might as well take you out on a date, or a stroll. anything. as long as he gets to see that pretty face of yours longer than just an hour.

“you got it, sweetheart. keep a look out for a text from me, then yeah?” his hand then reach our to grab your other one, giving a soft kiss on the knuckles while maintaining an eye contact with you,

you let out a shaky breathe with a small cute smile as he rubs his thumb against your skin. before you can even move your hand to open the door, he does it for you. shooting you another smile of his.

you grab your purse and climb out of the vehicle, waving your hand at him. “good night , toji”

“goodnight, y/n. i’ll see you very soon” he winks before you close the door and see himself drive off,

you stand there for a while with a bright smile on your face that never seems to leave,

you really can’t wait to see him again

—

next part, first date?👀

a/n: also, planning to make this into a series <3

taglist:

@fushipurro

@crocodilethesir

@chilichopsticks

@trentknd

@tojis-ball-sack

@hellokittyloverrxox

@xavlyzn

[glowettee]

✧ if i’m so dramatic, why am i always right? ✧

✦ intuition vs gaslighting ✦

hi lovelies, it’s mindy 🌷🕯 i’ve been off tumblr for a few days, things have just been really overwhelming lately, and i needed a little breather. but writing always brings me back to myself. it’s my favorite kind of comfort. the glowettee x pll series has seriously been such a joy to create… every post, every idea, every digital piece for my gumroad has been healing in its own way. this next post is something close to my heart. it’s about gaslighting... something i’ve experienced a lot, especially from people i thought i could trust. it’s such a common thing, but so many of us don’t realize it’s happening until way later. i used to second-guess my intuition constantly because people convinced me i was being “too much.” but every time… my gut was right. so i wanted to write this to help you tell the difference between real intuition and someone twisting it. if you’ve ever felt that quiet confusion or started to doubt yourself after talking to someone, this post is for you. i hope it brings clarity. and softness. and maybe even a little validation if you’ve been there too. - mindy 🤍🩰

sometimes i wonder if girls like us were born with a sixth sense or if we just got so used to being hurt that our bodies evolved. hyper-awareness as a survival trait. intuition as our most sharpened weapon. people love to call it being “dramatic,” but let’s be honest... i was right every time.

𓆩♡𓆪

❝ if you’re so emotional, how come your instincts always come true? ❞ they never have an answer to that, do they?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

✧ the 'dramatic' girl dilemma

there’s a reason why every group chat has a girl they secretly call “too much.” the one who always has a weird feeling. the one who picks up on tone shifts and changes in energy and tiny inconsistencies like it’s her full-time job. she’s the one who says, “this doesn’t feel right,” and gets labeled a buzzkill. the killjoy. the overthinker.

but i’ll let you in on something i had to learn the hard way: they only call you dramatic when they don’t want you to notice what’s really happening.

girls like us don’t get the luxury of being chill. we’re watching. always. we had to learn to be. we’re the first ones to feel the shift in a friend group dynamic. we clock the fake laugh. the silence in the hallway. the DM left on read. and when we bring it up? “you’re imagining things.”

they say "you're too sensitive" like it's a flaw. like feeling deeply makes you unreliable. but being sensitive never meant being wrong. it just meant you felt the betrayal before it became undeniable.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

✧ trauma turned my gut into a siren

there’s something about growing up being ignored, bullied, overlooked, or manipulated that turns your whole nervous system into a radar. suddenly, you’re the girl who notices everything.

like, i still remember being 14 and realizing that one of my friends always laughed at my jokes in front of boys, but never when it was just us. or how she'd call me pretty but then immediately ask if i was wearing makeup. subtle stuff. stuff that sounds dumb when you say it out loud. stuff that makes people go, “you’re reading too much into it.”

but i wasn’t. i never was. that’s the exhausting part.

emotional intelligence feels like a superpower until it starts to drain you. like being psychic, but without the option to turn it off. you don’t just read the room, you analyze it, archive it, cross-reference it with past data.

i used to hate this part of myself. now i know it kept me alive.

you’re not paranoid. you’re perceptive. there’s a difference.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

✧ you knew, even when it didn’t make sense

sometimes your body knows things before your brain catches up. your heart races before he lies. your stomach drops before the betrayal hits. you get that pit-in-your-stomach feeling and then brush it off, until the truth slaps you a week later.

trust me, i’ve been there. i once had a gut feeling that a friend was turning people against me... but there was no proof. just a weird energy. until one day, someone accidentally sent me a screenshot that wasn’t meant for me. and suddenly the feeling made sense.

they call it “bad vibes.” i call it early intel.

start decoding the patterns:

the too-long pause before answering your question

the “i didn’t mean it like that” when you call it out

the subtle digs framed as compliments

the way people say your name when they think you’re not listening

you noticed for a reason. trust the noticing.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

✧ what gaslighting actually feels like

gaslighting doesn’t always sound like “you’re crazy.” sometimes it sounds like “you’re overreacting,” or “you always assume the worst,” or “why do you make everything a problem?”

but the worst kind of gaslighting is the kind you do to yourself. when you feel the red flags and immediately shut yourself down. when your first instinct is right, but your second thought is “i’m just being dramatic.” that’s emotional self-betrayal. it hurts. a lot.

i once told a guy that something felt off, he’d been cold, weird, distant. he said i was insecure. i said sorry. two weeks later, i found out he’d been seeing someone else the whole time. lesson learned: don’t apologize for what your body already knows.

you can’t logic your way out of a feeling that was never lying to you in the first place.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

✧ intuitive doesn’t mean irrational

“dramatic” is just a word they use to discredit girls who are too emotionally accurate to manipulate.

your feelings are data. emotions are not the opposite of intelligence, they’re the early warning system. they tell you what’s not being said. they tell you what the energy in the room is doing. they tell you the truth before the truth shows its face.

what if you’re not “too much,” what if you’re just always one step ahead?

what if the real problem isn’t that you feel too deeply, but that you feel accurately, and that makes people uncomfortable?

i’m reclaiming the word dramatic. to be dramatic is to see danger before it arrives. to feel something shift before it collapses. to be emotionally clairvoyant. and i think that’s beautiful.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

✧ how to protect your knowing

your intuition deserves protection. here’s how i keep mine sacred:

✧ journal your gut feelings ~ even if they don’t make sense yet. time-stamp them. track patterns. ✧ make a screenshots folder ~ for receipts, subtle shifts, digital clues. memory gaslights too. ✧ create a ‘weird vibes’ note in your phone ~ no explanation needed. if something feels off, log it. ✧ meditate or walk after intense conversations ~ let your body process what your mind can’t yet. ✧ check in with your inner child ~ would 13-year-old you trust this person? she knows. always.

𓆩 ritual for the emotionally haunted 𓆪 › write down a time you were right, but told you were wrong › throw it away, or rip it up › whisper “i trust myself now.” › repeat every time the world tries to confuse you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

✧ you weren’t crazy, you were correct, and ahead

they’ll tell you you’re crazy until the moment you’re proven right. they’ll call you dramatic until the danger becomes undeniable. they’ll gaslight you until the truth surfaces, and then pretend they never doubted you at all.

the girls who trust themselves become the women no one can lie to. so feel everything. sense everything. believe yourself.

being dramatic is how you survived the world they tried to confuse you in.

and if you’re always the first to notice the danger, maybe it’s not a flaw. maybe it’s your gift. maybe it’s what will save you.

✧ love always, mindy

[codtrashsammy]

Cute Meet?

Started as a kinda character study and idk what happened, i'ma be honest. I haven't written anything with length in awhile, so feel free to leave cc and let me know what you think <3 Just a cute meet kinda scenario, reader is an anxious lil thing and Simon 'Ghost' Riley is obsessed upon first glance. Love? No, not yet.. but obsessed, yes. Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You Warnings: No warnings, no use of y/n tho Enjoy :))

Ghost is the keeper. Ghost is stoic, cold, even apathetic. Ghost can kill a whole platoon without batting an eye, can be covered in the blood of his enemies and be entirely uncaring to watch it flow down the drain once he has enough time to scrub the caked blood from where it seeped through his clothes. He is in charge, able to control his emotions effortlessly, able to lead. He is everything he needs to be. And then there’s Simon. Ghost is the keeper. Simon is the man beneath the mask who needs one. Simon is more akin to a stray dog than a human at times. Face hidden from the world, yet teeth always barred and ready to bite. Hidden behind a mask, a carefully crafted mask that is Ghost. A man with more scars than flesh, a man with more trauma than peace, a man who simply longs for the normalcy of life without a way to reach it. And then came you.

Ghost couldn’t care less for you. The mask is on as he’s on leave, shopping in a grocery store to get something to eat on while he stays in that damned motel for the next couple of weeks before flying out once more. The mask stays in place, a protection, a show the keeper is in charge. You don’t mean to run into him, you’re definitely not the type to go looking for trouble- you’ve had enough of that in your life, and you’re just starting to get your shit together for the nth time. But as you’re both leaving, you stumble, bumping right into him and leaving a couple of his poor bags strewn about on the sidewalk rather than carefully held within each hand. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Ghost grumbles with a sigh, clearly not pleased by the circumstances while watching a can of beans he had bought simply roll off of the sidewalk area and into the road- promptly ran over by a vehicle looking to park. No beans and toast now, british man. “I am so sorry-” You immediately apologize, the sheepish and embarrassed look on your face obvious as you dust yourself off and try to begin gathering the mess that you had caused. Ghost is annoyed at you. Just one look and he’s annoyed. But Simon? Simon is enchanted. The sweet, sheepish smile on your face, the way you scramble to help, the heat to your cheeks in your embarrassment as you scatter around trying to fix the situation. The way your hair falls and how you’re clearly nervous, but you still act anyway. You don’t care of how he looks- all brooding and intimidating with his hoodie over his head and the black medical mask over the lower half of his face. You couldn’t care less of that- you simply want to make things better. Simon notices that though. Simon remains frozen for a few moments, hidden interest in his eyes as he watches you scramble about, resorting your things just to have an extra couple of bags for his things. And you just hand things back over to him, the sheepish smile still on your face, the embarrassment clear- but gods, you look like such a sweet lil thing, lookin’ at him like he’s a human, a person. “‘S fine,” Simon eventually spits out, taking the bags from your hands and glancing once more at the beans staining the roadway now, before turning to focus his attention back on you. He could let you leave now. He could, it’d be so easy. He could leave it at that and walk away, probably never hear or see from you again. I mean, hell, he’s only known you for all of 5 minutes, and it’s because you’re a clumsy little shit who fucked up his shopping. It’d be so easy so why does it feel so hard. “D’ya always ‘ave to make such an impression?” Simon quips out, readjusting the bags comfortably in his grip. You can’t even pretend not to notice his accent- it’s unusual for where you live, you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything like it outside of the media you’ve consumed. It’s pleasant, rings around in the ears for a bit. You finally meet his eyes, and gods, they are gorgeous. Deep, rich, brown- like chocolate with golden flecks scattered. Especially in the sunlight- like they are now- pools of liquid gold swimming about a chocolate river. “Ah- No- Um-” You struggle to find the right words, now your cheeks are warmer, and it’s less from embarrassment and more from the pretty eyed stranger you just fucking throttled on accident. But at least he doesn’t seem angry, so there’s always that. “I’m so sorry,” You settle on apologizing again, one of your hands moving to nervously run through your hair, pushing some strands out of your face. “‘S fine. Really.” Simon says with a slight nod, and you can feel the burn of his eyes as they trail over you. You can’t decide if he means it or not, though, he sounds oddly monotone for such simple words. “Still, I feel bad, I uh- I’m kinda clumsy at best,” You blurt out, sheepish smile on your face despite its softness as you glance away from him before looking back once more, “I uh- just wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going- a real bad habit of mine, honestly- which is surprising cause you’re kinda huge and hard to miss-” 

What the fuck did you just say?!Your cheeks heat up further, hands moving to gesture with your words now. You’re rambling, you know you are, but god did not give you the ability to shut the fuck up. “N-Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re uh- very well-built!” what the fuck you’re making it worse- “I-I mean- You uh- You have lots of muscle a-and that’s a good thing! And you have pretty eyes- always a bonus!” Simon’s eyebrow slowly lifts, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Simon’s been called a lot of things in his life- but he’s realizing at this moment that no one has ever called his eyes pretty. They’re brown. He can recall Johnny referring to them as ‘shit brown’ more often than not.  And you just look so fucking adorable- continuing to ramble, but he’s hardly paying attention to the words now, watching your cheeks get darker, your hands gesturing with your words, nervously shifting on your feet as you try to ‘save’ the situation. Such a precious lil thing, too pure for this world.

Simon was enchanted at first glance.

Ghost decides he could be, too.

A pretty thing like you? In this world? Oh, love, that’s just not safe. You’re a lil bundle of nervous, clearly. How’d ya make it this far? Who made ya like this? Unsure, rambling, nervous? Ghost wants to learn you. Wants to figure out what events molded you into this cute lil thing. You clearly need someone- he won’t judge, Simon needs him, too.

Ghost decides he wants to know you. Simon has made that thought known.

“You know what? I’m gonna shut up!” You finally say, voice a higher pitch and the heat being felt in the tips of your ears at this point as you take a step away from the masked man, who you know you’ve done ruined the chance to know with your inability to shut the fuck up.

“Tell me yer name before ya do,” Simon says, voice smooth like it’s the easiest and most casual thing in the world.

He’s so… quiet. He let you ramble and make an absolute fool of yourself- but now he’s actually wanting to know your name?

After you manage to knock yourself out of your stupor, you finally offer your name to him, cheeks finally cooling down a bit. Only to heat back up once he repeats your name in that voice of his, all low and gruff- says it differently than anything you’ve ever heard before- like it’s something important, something that matters.

“Simon,” He supplies, adjusting his bags in one grip as he offers a hand to you.

Simon and Ghost are two very different people who share this skin suit.

But they both decide you’re theirs.

[leafostuff]

Her money dont jiggle jiggle (but her boobs sure do) [FT. Lightsum Nayoung]

Tags: Smut, Quickie, Titjob, Dirty Talk, Hooker!Nayoung, BFH-ish,

Author's Note: Part of @i-am-lifeform24's Project, was supposed to be a standalone smut but I figured that the idea is best for this project and he was kind enough to let me into it late, this counts as my July upload

thank you, and hope you will enjoy this fic

================================================

"So? You are the next customer?"

You gulp, not sure what to say to the beautiful girl in front of you, her clothes resemble the look of a popular college girl: a frilly white lace corset top that revealed her surprisingly cute belly and navel, paired with a denim skirt that left her thighs exposed for you to see.

Meanwhile you were just sitting there, nearvous and shirtless since those were the rules of the club, "Uhh yeah... here's the receipt" you answer, its obvious you are trying your hardest not to stare at her chest while you hand her the recipt, you still a bit surprised that you were convinced by your friends to spend 100$ on this new club, but the premise of real kpop idols being hookers was the nail in the coffin to get you to come.

As the girl finishes scanning the recipt she throws it to the side, "Okay good enough" she says nonchalantly while she gets closer, making you feel nervous by the second, and you are not the only one as just a look from her toward your pants causing her cleavage to displayed to you forms an erection, rolling her eyes she says in a tired voice, "whatever, let's get this over”

One swift motion and her top is thrown to the side, wearing no bra as instead her breast reveal their true form to you, almost freeze in place from the spectacle in front of you, however no time to waste about admiring them as she goes in to straddle your lap while her hands now work on taking off your belt from your own jeans, giving you a little wink during the process.

After what feels an eternity (Or maybe that girl is really into strip teasing you) your cock is finally released from your pants, standing long and hard in front of her eyes, “Not bad…not bad” she quietly mutters as she hops off your lap and kneels in front of you, “you mind if i…” she asks.

“Uh…sure?” you are a bit surprised that a hooker asks you in the first place considering how she didn't ask for your opinion when she straddled you and took your pants off, but regardless she laughs at your response while she lowers herself toward you.

However you didn't expect her to grab her tits with both hands and let them envelope around your member, her eyes lock into yours with a big grin as she begins her work, rubbing her chest up and down on your cock, each up causes her tits to fully hide your tip while each down she lightly slams her chest onto your thighs while her lips lean in closer giving your mow exposed tip a small kiss, sending tingles to your brain that make your moans to grow larger in response.

“Oh i love how you are so nearvous, it's adorable” she says, eyes still on you meanwhile you are looking at the ceiling, “And how you are so hard for me even though i am just getting started” she adds, try to look down at her but your vision is now blurry from the amount of pleasure you receive from her

“Nngh” is the only thing you manage to mutter as the rest of your attempted sounds turn into unintelligible moans, meanwhile your hands hold the fabric of the sofa you are on, each movement of hers drives you insane while she can't help but giggle.

“I can't wait for you to release all of that cum in there all over my tits, just let yourself loose while i will drain you from all of that cum” Her dirty talk is deadly while her pace is getting quicker and her smile grows wider at each rock

“Yes yes yes, come on i can feel it on your balls, release it, you know you want it,~”

And that's the final blow for you and as an expert at her job she knows it, so just as you are about to cum she lets her lips latch themselves into your tip and as strings of cum flows into her mouth you could feel yourself getting relieved by the second.

Finally she releases her mouth from you while she rises up from the position, “Oh wow, that was… *sigh* surprisingly fun” she says, catching her breath while she cleans some leftover cum from her face and tits, some of it she takes with two fingers and puts inside her mouth while she beams a smile at you with a confident wink

Look at the time, you could swear that an eternity passed from the moment she started pleasuring you but in reality it's only been 15 minutes, and it seems those 15 minutes were not enough for her.

“So… I have some time left before my next customer and usually I would have kicked you out to get ready but…” she stops, giving you time to finally gain your composure and look at her again, now taking her hands work on taking her denim skirt and hot pink panties off her body, now leaving herself fully naked in front of you.

“Since you are kinda cute and VERY big, I don't mind having some more fun, so what do you say?”

She asks, once again she straddles your lap but this time her back is facing toward you leaving her ass in full display in front of you only centimetres away from your cock getting inside, meanwhile both her hands grab yours, taking them toward body as she leaves each of you palm at her naked chest as by instinct you let your hands grab each tit.

“Ready for the real fun?” She looks back, another wink coming at you as it seems almost aphrodisiac how her winks get your member hard again.

=================================

Posted at July 14th, 2024

[toasty-bun1]

Reconnected (Tadashi Hamada X Reader)

First fanfic post! I hope you all enjoy :)

Summary: With Tadashi constantly at the lab working on Baymax there’s a disconnect in your relationship. Happy ending!

Warnings: none

———

“Thanks, Joan! I’ll get that done by midday tomorrow. Have a good one.”

You end the video meeting and close your laptop, letting out a long sigh as you look around your apartment. The familiar emptiness greets you once again. Tadashi, your brilliant boyfriend, had been consumed by his work for months. His latest project, a healthcare robot named Baymax, had the potential to save thousands of lives, but the complexity of it all had absorbed every waking hour of his day.

Your routine had become monotonous: after work, you’d either hit the gym or do Pilates, make yourself a simple dinner, and retreat to bed. The bed creaked in the early hours when Tadashi finally came home, and when you woke up, the other side was always empty.

Staring at your phone, you hesitate for a moment before dialing his number.

“Hey! This is Tadashi. Leave a message at the beep, and I’ll get back to you soon.”

You let out a shaky breath as his voicemail message cuts off, a knot forming in your throat. The uncertainty of your relationship weighed heavily on your heart. How much longer could you keep going like this? You needed something to change—anything.

Determined to do something about it, you hustle downstairs to the kitchen and start chopping veggies for a soup Tadashi always loved. The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board helps calm your nerves, but you still feel a deep ache in your chest.

The soup bubbles away as you carefully pack it into a thermal container. You take a deep breath, grab your helmet, and hop on your moped. When you pull into the SFIT parking lot, you can’t help but chuckle softly at the sight of only one other moped parked there—Tadashi’s.

Your heart flutters, and you can’t help but wonder why seeing your own boyfriend makes you so nervous. Maybe because you didn’t know what kind of reception you’d get.

Pushing open the door to his lab, you spot him immediately. His back is hunched over the desk as he works on a small wiring issue, completely engrossed in his task.

“Hi… Tadashi…” Your voice catches slightly as you greet him.

He turns around quickly, his eyes lighting up when he sees you, but there’s a hint of concern in his expression. “Y/n! Uh, what are you doing here? It’s so late, and you’ve got work tomorrow. You should go home and get some rest.” He shifts awkwardly, as if caught off guard.

You feel your heart race, but you push through the nervousness. “I, um… I brought you something. I missed you and wanted to make sure you ate well.”

Tadashi glances down at the neatly wrapped bag you’re holding, then back at you. His expression softens, but there’s still a palpable tension. “Oh, thank you, Y/n, but… I already ate a little while ago. I really need to fix this wiring by tonight. I’ll see you at home though, okay?”

Your heart sinks, but you force a smile, nodding. “Okay, I’ll see you at home.”

You turn quickly to leave, not wanting him to see the tears welling up in your eyes. Clutching the soup to your chest, you step out of the lab and back to your moped.

This is too hard. I can’t keep being a ghost in my own relationship. You try to convince yourself that it’s all worth it, but the ache in your chest doesn’t fade.

Once back at your apartment, you change into comfortable pajamas and collapse onto the couch, too drained to deal with your emotions. You cover yourself with a blanket, trying to shut out the frustration gnawing at you.

The sound of keys jingling at your front door makes you jolt awake. It’s only 11 PM—Tadashi usually doesn’t come home until 1 or 2 AM. You sit up, confused and a little hopeful.

The door clicks open, and to your surprise, Tadashi is standing there, slightly out of breath. He’s holding a bouquet of tulips—your favorite. You walk towards the front door.

“Tadashi, what…” Your words are cut off as he steps forward, his hands gently cupping your face as he pulls you in for a kiss. His lips are warm and desperate, as if he’s been waiting to do this for so long. His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer, and you both sink deeper into the kiss.

After a few moments, you finally break away, breathless, and notice the tears in his eyes. Your own eyes fill with tears as well.

“Tadashi, what’s going on?”

His gaze is steady as he looks into yours, his voice trembling slightly. “I’m so, so sorry, Y/n. I’ve treated you terribly these past few months. Yes, Baymax is important to me, but you are more important. I lost sight of that. When I saw you leave my lab earlier, I realized I’ve been neglecting you, and I can’t keep doing that. I love you, Y/n. I promise, I will never forget that again.”

A wave of relief washes over you, as if a heavy weight has been lifted from your chest. You take his hands tightly, the words finally coming out as a soft whisper, “I love you, Tadashi. I’ll always support your work, but hearing you say that… it eases so much of the pain I’ve been feeling.”

Tadashi pulls you into a tight hug, his hands rubbing your back as he kisses the top of your head. “You’ve always been my greatest cheerleader. Now, let me be the one to support you.”

You smile, closing your eyes as you bury your face against his chest. His heart beats strong beneath your ear, steady and reassuring.

He sways you slowly from side to side, and you feel the tension in your body melt away. “Should we go to bed?” Tadashi asks gently.

You look up into his warm brown eyes, a soft smile spreading across your face. “Yes, let’s go.”

[imagine-you]

If I Open the Door To Heaven Or Hell 7/? [Wally Clark/Reader]

Summary: You follow your killer and find the answers you've wanted for years. Word Count: 3.1k Author's Note: I am so nervous about this one, but I hope you all trust me to make it all right in the end. Major thanks to @thatpunkmaximoff / @fanficimagery for dealing with me and reassuring me about what I had planned for this one. Go check our her fics! She's amazing. 💖💖💖 Also, I had to listen to Gracie Abrams' I Love You, I'm Sorry on repeat while I wrote this to put me in the right headspace.

Warning for suicidal ideation from a character.

Read On AO3 // Fic Masterlist

You followed your killer down the hallway and to the stairwell. You knew where she was going, but you couldn't help but trail her, even though you should have resisted. But you had to know how she ended up back at the school.   

You knew she was expelled, but you didn't know what happened to her after leaving the school. Was she arrested? Let go? You had no idea, but after nearly thirty years, you couldn't help but want the answer to a question that had plagued you since you died.  

When she began to approach the bathroom where you died, you nearly froze. You didn't want to revisit that memory. But you didn't have your jacket with you now. If you followed her in, you wouldn't be entering your scar. But you would still be alone with your bully where you had spent the final moments of your life absolutely terrified of her.  

She stopped just outside, her hand pressed to the door like she was also hesitant to continue. You waited, just a few steps behind her, for her to make her move. 

She took a deep breath before pushing the door open and walking inside. You didn't allow yourself to think too much about what you were doing as you followed her. You knew that if you reconsidered for even a moment, then you would never be able to let yourself walk back into the room that held the final moments of your life. 

When you walked into the bathroom, it was to find that she was standing by the window. You froze, remembering the last time you saw her there and what happened soon after that encounter.  

She stared at the window for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. She swayed on her feet, unsteady, before she turned around. 

You were surprised to see tears welling in her eyes. 

"Y/N," she whispered, and you startled, thinking she could somehow see you standing just across the bathroom from her.  But she had her focus fixed to a place on the floor by the sink closest to the door. 

The spot where you died.  

She took a step forward before she fell to her knees. It was like all the life drained out of her in that moment, her strings cut, as she collapsed on the tiles. She never once took her eyes off the floor where you drew your last breath. 

She dropped her head into her hands, hiding her face. Her shoulders were shaking, and you realized she was full-on crying. 

She crawled forward before sitting on the floor, her back pressed against the stall door across from the sink. 

"I know you're not here and I know this is probably stupid, but I can't talk to anyone about this. No one else in my life knows what I did. I’ve never been able to tell them." 

She stopped talking, tears steadily streaming down her face, as she closed her eyes. You found yourself drifting forward, curious, before joining her on the floor. Knowing she didn't even know you were there was a relief. Invisibility gave you confidence to sit at her side, also studying the place where you lost your life. 

"I always thought that they let me off too easy. Manslaughter," she scoffed. "It was an accident. I swear it was. I never wanted you to die.” She shook her head, her breaths coming fast and panicked. “But I still did it,” she confessed. “And you still died. And years later, all I can think about was the look on your face. You were terrified. Of me. And then you turned away and all I wanted to do was scare you. I was just so angry. All the time, I was so angry. But I didn't mean for that to happen. Never that. I never wanted that," she stressed, her voice breaking on the last word.   

She focused on her hands in her lap, twisting them together, before continuing.  

"I was a minor, so they expelled me and then they carried me off school grounds in cuffs. And they locked me up in this place for troubled kids. I spent a couple years there before I aged out. And they should've locked me up again. I wanted them to. I begged them to, because I was a coward. I didn’t want to face what I had done. I didn't even want to live." She hiccupped, her face twisting into an expression of pure agony, before she shook her head. "I wanted to die. I couldn't forget about the sound. You hitting the floor and the blood and that awful stillness. You didn't move and I panicked. I tried to give you CPR like that's ever been good for head wounds," she huffed out a shaky breath.  

You didn't realize you were crying until you felt a tear slip down your cheek. You blinked, surprised, before quickly brushing it away. You had always wondered what happened to her after she killed you. Knowing that she had never known a moment of peace since, her thoughts always on you, left you feeling oddly relieved and a little unsettled.  

"And that's when I ran to get a teacher. But it was too late. You were gone before you even hit the floor. And it was all my fault." 

She bowed her head again, closing her eyes. You could see the way her hands were trembling and you had the inane urge to try and reach out, see if you could still them. You had no idea she felt so much remorse for your death. You had assumed, that like everyone you knew when you were alive, that she forgot about you the moment she left. But you had been haunting her ever since and you never even had to leave school grounds to do it.  

"I was just so awful to you," she continued, reaching up to wipe a finger under nose, collecting stray tears and snot. "And there's no excuse for it. I was just so miserable, and I took it out on you. But you were so sweet." A sad smile graced her face as she lifted her head and looked at the sink again. "You were so sweet," she repeated, nearly wistful.  

You leaned forward, catching the expression on her face. She looked tormented, her eyes speaking volumes of the pain she was feeling. There was a part of you that had wished for this moment for so long. To see the bully who had cost you everything reduced to her lowest point. But seeing her hollowed out, filled with nothing but anguish and regret, didn't feel like the sweet vindication you had imagined.  

It felt bitter. Twisted. Wrong.  

"Everyone loved you. And I hated you for it. Because I didn't know what that was like. Everyone steered clear of me. Everyone hated me. And it took me years to realize it was because I was pushing them away. I did it to myself. And you paid the price for that. And I can never take that back." She drew a deep, shuddery breath, before her expression crumbled all over again and she began to sob.  

You watched her fall apart, giving up any sense of dignity or composure she held as she lost it on the bathroom floor where you both lost your lives.  

Time passed in shallow breaths and the soft sound of her pleading with someone she didn't realize was there right beside her to forgive her.  

"I don't deserve it, I don't deserve it, I don't deserve it," she chanted, shaking her head, bringing her hands up rake her nails down her face. Red lines followed in their wake, temporarily marring her skin.  

"And you know what's the worst part? They decided to let me go as long as I attended anger management classes and didn't break parole. And I'm still so miserable. I don't deserve anything good that ever happened to me and that's why I think they get ripped away from me as soon as I start to appreciate them. Dead husband. My own kid wants nothing to do with me. I stayed in the same town, never leaving it, because I can’t. I can’t leave knowing that out there is a life where this didn’t happen. I can’t let that happen. This is forever who I am. A killer,” she sneered, her expression morphing from disdain to sorrow. “And I see the way they look at me. People in this town who remember. Who know. Who hate me. They should hate me. They should drive me out with pitchforks and flames. But they don’t, because I don’t even deserve something like that. I deserve worse and they know it every time they see me. So, they ignore me instead. I don’t exist to them. So, I drink and I try to forget. But that's why it goes wrong. That’s why everything in my life goes wrong. Because I'm not trying to forget my own shitty life. I'm trying to forget you. And it's not fair. It's not fair to you. And all I can think about is how you'll never have a husband. A kid. A family. A house or a career or a life. And I took that from you. You'll never have anything ever again because I took that from you." 

She let out a low chuckle, the sound broken and defeated.  

"I should have been the one to die that day." 

You focused on her, not sure what the feeling rising within you meant. You might not have survived that day, but you lived on in her memory. 

You were her biggest regret.  

And she would never be able to move on, but you could.  

If anyone told you a day would come when you would find yourself on the verge of forgiving someone for killing you, you wouldn't have believed them. But the proof of living a life of regret and the torment it wrought was currently beginning to hyperventilate right next to you.  

You didn't want to be her. You didn't want to let your death ruin you like it had ruined her.  

In life and in death, you had found people to belong to. People who loved you. People who cared about you.  

She would never have that. She would always be alone. 

She lifted her hands, likely going for her face again, and you couldn't help it this time.  

You reached out, placing your hand gently over one of hers. There was no way she could feel you, but her hands froze before dropping back into her lap. She shuddered before licking her lips, no doubt tasting her own tears. You kept your hand over hers, not ready to let go just yet.  

You were simply two lost souls trying to connect across the veil. Who would have thought the dead one would have the better life?  

You felt like something you had hidden deep inside was suddenly unlocked. You were flooded with a feeling you hadn't ever truly known and it took you entirely too long to place.  

Peace.  

Sitting there on the bathroom floor, you were starting to heal. After decades of hurt and unanswered questions, you were starting to see that all the fears you carried around in death were unnecessary.   

You had only ever wanted to know that you hadn't died unknown. You hadn't been left behind and forgotten, obscured beneath other memories that never saw the light of day. But you knew now.  

Because if she remembered you, then so did your family. Your best friend. Your little brother. All the people you loved and cherished didn't abandon you. It just hurt too much to be reminded that they had you and then lost you entirely too early. You figured that if you had a choice between them falling apart on bathroom floors torn up over your shortened existence or leaving to find whatever measure of a life they could hold on to without you, then you would choose the latter.  

Because the person who had taken your life would forever be stuck in the former.  

You weren’t the one trapped here.  

She was. 

It didn't mean your family didn't love you anymore. It just meant that they could hear a song or watch your favorite movie and hold only memories no longer tarnished with pain. The memory of your smile and the way you would quote all the best lines with every rewatch of your favorite movie. The way you would sing along to your favorite songs, humming the parts when you forgot the lyrics, before belting out the chorus. The sound of your laugh and the silly faces you made to cheer up your brother. The pillow forts and Monopoly wins and endless trips to the arcade. The smell of your shampoo and the sound of your voice. Memories might fade over time, but you knew they would never stop chasing the reminders of the way you touched their lives.  

You watched your bully tear herself apart and knew right then and there that you didn't want your memory to torment her any longer.  

You didn't want to be anyone's ghost.  

You kept your hand over hers, watching her cry as she slowly began to calm down. You weren't sure how long you spent with her on the bathroom floor before she got to her knees and grabbed her purse where it had dropped beneath a stall door. She rummaged through the purse for a moment before she freed something from it.  

"I saw this one day when I took my daughter shopping. I see you sometimes when I look at her. I don’t deserve her either. She’s one of those good things I really fucked up. And sometimes, I look at her, and I get so scared that I’ll be the death of her too. That one day I’ll push her a little too hard and that’ll be it. She won’t be her anymore. I’m scared that it already happened.” 

She went quiet for a moment, staring down at whatever was in her hand. 

“Anyway,” she continued, visibly trying to collect herself, “it was in one of those edgy clothing stores that always blasts that screaming music. And I thought of you. Because of all things, I remembered you loved this band. You had a t-shirt for one of their tours and used to wear it all the time. So, I bought this, thinking of that jacket you wore." She went quiet, no doubt thinking of the last time she saw you in that jacket. 

You got up on your knees and leaned forward to get a better look at what she was holding. 

It was a patch. The kind you would have loved putting on your jacket. It had your favorite band's logo on it with the band name stitched around the edges.  

"I've had this for years. And every time I see it, I think of you. Because I know you would have loved it." 

She stood, leaving her purse on the floor, and approached the sink where you died. She reached out a trembling hand and placed the patch on the edge of the sink. She stared down at it for a moment before she took an abrupt step back, like she was trying not to reach out and grab it again. She glanced up at the mirror, grimacing at her reflection.  

"I'm a mess," she sighed, taking another step away from the mirror, unknowingly stopping at your side. "That's for you," she said, nodding towards the patch left behind on the sink. "I think you would have really liked it. And I'm sorry that I'll never actually get to give it to you. But I hope that wherever you are, that you're doing okay. That you're happy. You should be happy." 

You thought of your afterlife at Split River. It was full of memories of people you had come to love.  

Charley and his sweet, welcoming nature.  

Rhonda and her sarcasm she wielded to mask the care she had for her friends.  

Dawn and Yuri and Quinn and even Maddie, who was dead, but not really.  

And Wally.  

You felt a rush of affection for him. He was your rock. You knew you could reach for him and he would reach back. He was kind and protective and charming. He would do anything for you.  

And you would do anything for him.  

You were surprised to realize that you were happy. You didn't ask for death and you never deserved it, but you still found a place filled with people to love. You had memories of running down hallways, laughing and gasping for breath, only to collapse to the floor with your friends. Field days and midnight swims and food fights. Tangled up with Wally on the tech booth couch and dance parties in the library and movie nights in the cafeteria.  

It wasn't what you would have expected, but you had a family.  

And you <i>were</i> happy.  

You watched the broken woman leave the bathroom and felt lighter. Right. Centered. Like something that had been weighing on you was finally lifted off your shoulders.  

You found yourself approaching the sink, no longer fearing what it meant to you. You reached out for the patch, turning it over in your hands, before putting it in your pocket.  

You thought you might even put it on your jacket. If only as a reminder of the one-sided conversation you had with the person who took your life. You didn’t have to suffer anymore, because she was carrying all the pain for you.  

The lights flickered for a brief moment, and you glanced up at the ceiling, wondering when they would finally change the broken bulb. You pushed the thought away and followed her out of the bathroom, watching her begin to walk away.  

She was still crying, but her shoulders were no longer hunched. You noticed her quickly swipe her hands under her eyes, likely trying to hide the fact that she had lost it just moments ago. 

She was walking down the hallway towards the stairwell. You knew she was leaving, but her thoughts would remain with you. You didn't know where she was going, but you continued to follow her.  

All the way down the stairs and towards the main entrance. She stopped at the wall of windows that looked out over the front lawn before pressing on, not knowing you were trailing in her wake like an extra shadow.  

A door opened farther down the hallway, and you noticed Maddie step out of a classroom. Quinn and Rhonda were right behind her, but Maddie had frozen, her eyes wide and expression worried as she looked at you.  

After a moment, you realized she wasn't looking at you.  

She was looking at the woman in front of you as she walked right by her. 

"Mom?" 

Author's Note: In my mind, for this story, reader didn't so much forgive her killer, but instead learned to let go since her killer was suffering enough for the both of them. That it was okay to move on and not be stuck in the worst moment of her life like her killer was. Next up, Wally learns what happened and they all find out their scars are connected.

Also, one person called that plot twist, so I hope that means it was in the realm of possibility. I've been thinking about it for weeks and I think I got too much in my head and thought y'all would hate me for this one. But I decided to go ahead and write it and I hope y'all trust me enough to make it work. I also had to research what happens when a minor is charged with manslaughter and I'm sure I'm on so many lists now. Lmao.

Taglist: @preparedfruit @morstuavitamea-a @jaes-last-words @thatonegayloser616 @kmarie06

@girlthatislost @peterpangirl21 @uk1y0 @i-mmunity @siriusxmunofficial

@lov3bug @morallygrayboys @loudtalehologram @hey-its-roseaurum @doves1120

@benjiiisstuff @schoolspiritsfan14 @friedfrogs @superlegend216 @badbishsblog

@awenthealchemist @fallout-girl219 @edb954

[thanosscross]

Double, Double, Combo- Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader + Twin! Ji-Yong: part 2

Summary: After finally being cleared to perform again, you were determined to show the boys that nobody could perform like you did. Ending with you and your brother's groups celebrating a good tour so far, causing feelings to be brought to the surface between you and your brother's best friend

Warnings: Reader getting drunk <3, other than that none lovelies!

Translations!:

Oppa: Older Brother

Yeo-Dongsaeng: Younger sister

Umma: Mother/mom

Aein: Sweetheart

As always if I've mistranslated something, or missused a word, please let me know! As I am very rusty in Korean, I am learning though! <33

Watching the boys perform your set, you were in awe, mainly over how into it the boys were, each of them hitting every mark for the choreography, doing better than they would have with their own. Whenever you were finally cleared to return back to work, you were determined to show them up, wanting to prove to them and your fans, nobody could do your concerts like you do.

"Yeo-Dongsaeng!" Ji-Yong shouted, marching his way up to the stage as you panted loudly, trying your best to catch your breath before he made it to you. "Yes? Can I help you?" You asked, tilting your head slightly, knowing exactly what he was going to bring up "What changes are you making? And why did you tell YG to not tell me what they are?" He asked sternly, not liking the idea of you having full control over something, it wasn't that he didn't trust you, he did, he just didn't trust your free-will decisions. "It's fine! It's fine! Dae-Sung, and the girls are helping!" You smiled, trying to assure your brother that you had everything under control. Ji-Yong just huffed, whining softly "Just tell me!" He groaned, letting his head fall back as you just shook your head "Nope! You'll see tomorrow night at the show" You smiled, knowing your specific moves you had changed, were perfectly timed to Ji-Yong being off stage during a costume change.

Whenever the time would come for your section of the show, you'd be a nervous wreck, standing on your mark as you started to lowly sing into the microphone. Your album you and group had just released meant a lot to you, after constantly being seen as 'the baby of k-pop' you were determined to show the industry that you were a grown woman now. Swinging your hips to the music, you held your note, following the backtrack in your earpiece as you moved your hands down your torso, biting your lip as you smiled. As you smirked, you slowly slid to your knees, almost moaning the ending lyrics of your song as the music faded out. Your back-up dancers and the girls made their way to their next mark as you panted softly, glancing to the camera that filmed your performance and broadcasted to the big screen, smirking as you bit your bottom lip, bouncing back up to your feet to make your way over to your spot. Noticing as Seung Hyun stood off to the side of the stage, watching in shock before giving you a soft, sly smirk, causing a blush to rise on your cheeks.

You laughed softly as you heard the arena screaming loudly, knowing your brother would hear it, at least YG would be happy about the positive feedback to your last minute change in choreography. You'd have fun the rest of the show, your body getting the much-needed rest it lacked, allowing you to put your all into the performance, while not completely draining your body of every ounce of energy. Rushing off stage, you smiled brightly, turning around to face your group members, squealing loudly as you celebrated the successful show. "What. Was. That?" Ji-Yong asked, his tone was stern, giving you a harsh, protective glare "That was your sister making history, that boy groups aren't the only mature ones in K-pop" You huffed, turning your back to your brother, who just turned you back around by your shoulder "That was you doing something that Umma won't be happy about" He rephrased your statement, causing you to giggle softly "Umma saw it first, said I look beautiful" You smirked, watching as he stared in shock "You can do that and Umma doesn't get upset, but I have to hide tattoos!?" Ji-Yong laughed, you relaxed a little bit hearing him start to joke around, showing he wasn't too upset about your dance moves.

Whenever you all made it back to your shared hotel suite, you were all quick to let loose, knowing you had a three day break in-between shows, you were all going to enjoy it, with alcohol. While You and Ji-Yong were extremely similar, whenever you both were drunk? You were complete opposites. Ji-Yong ended up turning into the princess of the group, not wanting to move unless necessary, constantly fanning his face like he was royalty, or constantly gossiping your secrets, unless you had gotten to him first to stop him; You were outgoing, loud, and confrontational, always wanting to have the best time possible. As you danced around the suite with your bandmate, you weren't aware of your brother's gossiping to the group of guys a few feet away. "Y/n likes Seung Hyun, but DO NOT tell him, cause she lovesss him" He slurred, smiling softly as Seung Hyun blushed brightly, all eight of you were either tipsy, or drunk, there was no in between. Skipping over to the boys, right as your brother finished his sentence "Oppppa! What'd you say?" You accused, glaring at your brother as he was quick to cover his face laughing "Ji-Yong! What'd you say!" You repeated yourself, feeling your frustrations start to grow as he stood up "I told them you like Seung Hyun" He stated, before grabbing your hand gently "Listen to me, Yeo-Donsaeng! You two are meant for each other! You're perfect together!" He argued, you just huffed "No! You listen to me!" You shot back, poking his chest "Okay...I'm listening.." Ji-Yong replied, tilting his head, the others sitting and watching the two of you, it was already entertaining to watch you both argue, but it was even funnier watching you both argue while drunk. "What are you listening to? I wanna hear! Please!" You gasped, clearly too drunk to remember what the hell you were just talking about, jumping over to stand next to him as you looked around curiously, Seung Hyun couldn't hold back his laugh as he heard you. You just continued bouncing in your spot, looking at Ji-Yong expectantly "I'm listening to you!" He laughed loudly, holding your shoulders gently as he calmed your jumping "Oh! Ohh~" You stated, piecing together what was going on, your expression going from excited to frustrated again. "I like Seung Hyun! I don’t like you right now, Ji! So stop spilling my business to everybody!" You argued, poking your brother's cheek as he tried to keep his balance, the alcohol starting to hit you both. "Seee! I told you, Seung Hyun!" Ji-Yong slurred, turning to his tipsy friend, watching as he just chuckled and shook his head "Stop! You're telling my business, oppa!" You whined loudly, smacking your brother's chest quickly, he just huffed, grabbing your wrists as gently as he could "I'm not! I just want to see my yeo-dongsaeng happy!" He replied, almost like he was begging you to get with Seung Hyun already, you just huffed "I'd be happier if you stopped" Smiling playfully at him, your pout returned quickly as Ji-Yong just quickly shook his head "Rude, I oughta...I'm calling Umma!" You shouted, rushing to your phone as your bandmate snatched it first, giggling, Seung Hyun and Tae-Yang quickly restraining you and your brother. "I think, you two should go to bed" Tae-Yang laughed softly, watching as you went limp in Seung Hyun's arms, trying to make it harder for him to carry you. Seung Hyun just lifted you up, effortlessly carrying you while following behind his two other friends "Wait! I wanna sleep in Ji's room!" You protested as the boys forced you to part ways, your statement causing Seung Hyun to turn around quickly, rushing to catch back up with Tae-Yang and your brother.

As you laid in the hotel room bed, you huffed, everybody was either laying down or asleep now, and your brother was taking all of the blankets, leaving you to freeze. "Ji..Ji" you whispered, trying to shake him, or at least take some blankets back, he just stayed in his spot, sleeping peacefully. You sat up, determined to find another blanket or something, you were NOT cuddling with your brother in order to share the blanket, he'd probably try and smother you anyways. Standing up, you turned around to see your options, your bandmates had all made make-shift beds in the floor, and your brother's bandmates were fast asleep in their beds, making it seem like a real sleepover. As you tiredly made your way out of the bedroom area of the suite, you went into your room, snatching your blanket off of the bed, before going right back to the other room. You crawled into what you thought was the giant bed that you and your twin were currently sharing, instead never noticing the tall, older bandmember fast asleep with his back turned to you.

As Seung Hyun felt someone lay down next to him, he slowly turned his head to try and see who, relaxing whenever he saw the soft f/c of your nightshirt. "Y/n, Aein, you're in the wrong bed" He chuckled, turning around slowly to fully face you. At this point, you weren't concerned with any of it, the tiredness and remaining bits of alcohol in your system made you worried about one thing, warmth. Whenever Seung Hyun turned, you could practically feel his body heat radiating off of him, causing you to quickly scoot closer, pressing your body against his as you wrapped your arms around him tightly "J-Ji took the blankets, it's cold in here" You whispered, trying to find the best position to lay in to warm up the fastest, Seung Hyun just laughed softly, wrapping an arm around you to pull you closer. "Stop wiggling like a worm, and come here" He laughed, watching as you pulled his blanket up to your cheeks "I can't help it, you're really fucking warm" You giggled blushing as Seung Hyun pulled you even closer, your head and chest now laying on his, you suddenly became very sober and very aware of the closeness with your crush, his heartbeat racing, how amazingly warm he somehow was, how soft his hair felt whenever it brushed against your face anytime he'd let his head fall while laughing. "Ladies say it's because T.O.P is just too hot" He chuckled playfully, you covered your mouth, trying your best to quiet your laughs "You're adorable, truly, you are" You managed to get out through your giggles, Seung Hyun just shaking his head, keeping his arm wrapped around you tightly "Are you feeling any warmer?" He whispered after a moment, frowning whenever you didn't reply, as he glanced down, his heart fluttered. You were sleeping peacefully with your head rested on his chest, your hand gently placed over his side as you held his hand loosely, Seung Hyun could feel his heart racing even more after that, almost like it was going to explode.

Waking up the next morning, you were met with your bandmates, brother, and his bandmates surrounding you and Seung Hyun excitedly “you two are so cuteee!” Dae-Sung smiled excitedly, hugging your brother in excitement “leave me aloneee!” Seung Hyun groaned tiredly, rolling to face away from all of the others, after a moment, he turned back around pulling the blankets over your heads “this is better, I can see you this way” he smiled, you were in awe with everything, his voice whenever he first woke up, his messy hair, his cute sleepy smile. “Thanks for keeping me warm last night, I really thought I was going to freeze to death at one point” you giggled softly, hugging him gently before gasping “they have a coffee bar downstairs..wanna go with me?” You smiled softly, watching as his eyes lit up “why did nobody tell me about that?!” He gasped, throwing the blankets off of you both, jumping to his feet before offering his hand to you. “We’re going to go get coffee!” You smiled excitedly, waving to your brother before rushing off with Seung Hyun. The both of you rushed down the hotel stairs, giggling like children as you made it to the breakfast area of the hotel, a counter covered in nothing but different coffees, syrups, sugars, flavoring.

As you both sat at one of the small tables, you giggled watching as Seung Hyun finished yet another cup of coffee that you had made for him “see! It's good! And you said my coffee looks like it’d give you a cavity!” You giggled, he just smiled at you softly shaking his head “it probably will! But it tastes good” He protested laughing softly, you just rolled your eyes, knowing he secretly loved the drink, lifting your cup to your lips taking a sip, you noticed Seung Hyun watching from over the rim of your mug. Placing the cup down you raised your eyebrow at him “can I help you?” You asked playfully, reaching to wipe your mouth before Seung Hyun grabbed your wrist gently, grimacing at the thought of you wiping the foam from your coffee off of your mouth with your hand, something you did often “that’s not very sanitary, Aein” he laughed before standing up, leaning over the table to press his lips against yours, your cheeks immediately heating up with a bright blush. Kissing him back softly, Seung Hyun’s hand slowly found its way to cup your cheek, you felt your stomach flip and your skin tingle as you slowly pulled away from him, offering him a sweet smile “what has gotten into you, Sir?” You asked teasingly, he laughed softly, fidgeting with his hands as he spoke “Well, technically speaking, three cups of coffee, emotionally? I have fallen for you hard, Kwon Y/n, harder than I have any women, and it’s confusing, but I want to be confused with you?” he explained, almost like he was questioning his words as he spoke, you smiled, swearing you could hear your own heartbeat racing as you rested a hand on his cheek “Well..I mean..I think it’s kind of obvious from my rant last night, I feel the same” you sheepishly admitted, remembering your ‘argument’ with your twin brother in front of everybody. “So we’re doing this?” Seung Hyun asked, taking your hand in his, trying to contain his excitement that was mixed with nervousness “I guess we are” you smiled shyly, bringing him closer to place your lips on his again, Seung Hyun could feel his body relax, hearing your confirmation and your lips against his. Almost like it was planned, the others walked in, looking at you both in shock “Oh My..god” Ji-Yong whispered watching as you quickly pulled away, hiding your face, unsure of his reaction. Ji-Yong was always trying to get you two together, so he should be excited..right?

—

You like lovelies? I tried adding a little more length this this part <3 I never really noticed how short they were until the other day scrolling through on my phone (I usually write on my laptop) so please let me know how you like it! And if you prefer longer fics like this or the shorter ones <33 excited to hear from you lovelies!! <333

—

Taglist!!!

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@heartsforseo

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@isssaaaa2111

@goodnight-n-go-home

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@cheese10001

[thollandsgirl2013]

𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐭

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → fluff

Summary → Peter sneaks into your room, almost gets caught by your mom.

Peter stumbles through your window, his clumsy ass nearly crashing into your desk. You wince at the loud noise, and before you can even register it, he trips over a pile of books on your floor, sending them tumbling in all directions.

"Oh my god, Peter!" You whisper harshly, trying to shush him as you rush to his side.

"Sorry!" He mumbles, eyes wide with embarrassment as he struggles to untangle himself from your blankets that he somehow managed to get wrapped in. "It’s dark in here! You have too much stuff!"

Before you can scold him, you hear footsteps approaching your door. Your heart races, panic surging through you. "Oh no. My mom."

Peter freezes, eyes widening even more. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, as if he’s trying to say something but has no idea what. You frantically look around the room for a place to hide him.

The closet. It’s your only option.

"Get in!" You hiss, pulling him up by the arm and shoving him toward the closet.

He hesitates for a second, looking at the cramped space, but there’s no time for second thoughts. The sound of your mom’s knock echoes through your room.

"Honey? Are you okay in there?" Your mom’s voice is muffled but concerned.

Peter’s eyes are pleading as you push him inside the closet and shut the door, trying to act casual as you hop onto your bed. You shove some of the fallen books under your blanket, hoping it looks like you’ve just been clumsy.

The door creaks open, and your mom steps inside, her eyes scanning the room. "I thought I heard a noise. Everything alright?"

You flash her a nervous smile, hoping she doesn’t notice your racing heart or the fact that Peter Parker, your Spider-Man boyfriend, is literally hiding in your closet.

"Uh, yeah, everything’s fine, Mom," you say, doing your best to sound casual. "I just, um, tripped over some books. You know how it is. Clumsy me."

Your mom raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it at first. She walks a little further into the room, her eyes landing on the pile of books on the floor. She frowns slightly, but it doesn’t seem like she’s going to investigate any further. You inwardly sigh in relief.

"Well, just be careful, okay? I don’t want you hurting yourself," she says, walking over to you. She bends down, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Goodnight, sweetie."

"Goodnight, Mom," you respond, watching her head toward the door.

You feel the tension drain from your body as she finally shuts the door behind her. For a moment, you just sit there, waiting to make sure she doesn’t come back. The room is quiet now, save for your own breathing and the faint sound of Peter shifting awkwardly in the closet.

Once you’re sure the coast is clear, you tiptoe to the closet and slowly open the door. Peter tumbles out, looking slightly disheveled but otherwise fine. His face is bright red, and he’s clutching his chest as if he’d been holding his breath the entire time.

"That was close," he whispers, glancing toward the door as if your mom might burst back in at any moment.

"You think?" You whisper back, a mixture of frustration and amusement in your voice. "What were you doing? I thought you were supposed to be stealthy."

"I am!" Peter protests, but his cheeks flush even more. "Usually. But I’ve been fighting crime all night, and I was just... I don’t know. A little off my game."

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help but smile at him. There’s something so endearing about the way he’s trying to defend himself, even though you both know he messed up. You sigh, walking back to your bed and plopping down.

"Well, next time you decide to sneak in, maybe try not to destroy my room in the process."

Peter chuckles softly, his signature crooked smile spreading across his face. "I’ll try my best, but no promises."

He sits down beside you on the bed, his hand brushing against yours. It’s such a simple touch, but it sends a wave of warmth through you. Even when he’s a total disaster, there’s something about Peter that makes you feel safe and comfortable, like he’s the one person you can truly be yourself around.

"Thanks for not, you know, ratting me out to your mom," he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "That would’ve been... awkward."

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "No kidding. I don’t even want to think about how that conversation would’ve gone."

There’s a brief silence, and you both glance toward the window, the soft glow of streetlights filtering through the curtains. The night feels quiet and still now, as if the world outside has finally settled down.

"So... what were you doing sneaking in here anyway?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. "You usually text first."

Peter’s smile falters for a moment, and he looks down at his hands. "I don’t know. I just... I wanted to see you. It’s been a long night, and... I just needed to be with you. Is that okay?"

Your heart softens at his words, and any lingering frustration melts away. Of course, it’s okay. You can’t even imagine how hard it must be for him, balancing his life as Peter Parker and his responsibilities as Spider-Man. Sometimes, he just needs a break from all of that, and you’re glad he feels like he can come to you when he needs to unwind.

"Yeah, it’s okay," you say softly, reaching out to take his hand in yours. "You can come over whenever you want to, Peter. Just... maybe work on your landing."

He laughs quietly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he leans in, resting his forehead against yours. His breath is warm against your skin, and for a moment, the world feels like it’s shrunk down to just the two of you, sitting here in the soft glow of your bedroom.

"I’ll work on it," he promises, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You smile, your eyes meeting his. There’s a softness in his gaze, something tender and unspoken that makes your heart flutter. Even after everything—the late-night patrols, the near-misses, the constant danger—he’s still Peter. He’s still the boy who trips over your books and hides in your closet when your mom comes knocking.

And you wouldn’t trade that for anything.

"Come here," you murmur, tugging gently on his hand.

Peter shifts closer, wrapping his arms around you as you rest your head against his chest. His heartbeat is steady, and the warmth of his embrace makes you feel safe, like nothing in the world can touch you right now. You close your eyes, letting the sound of his breathing lull you into a sense of calm.

For now, everything is perfect. Just you, Peter, and the quiet of the night.

"You know," Peter whispers after a moment, "I could get used to this."

"Used to what?" You ask, your voice muffled against his chest.

"Sneaking in, almost getting caught, hiding in your closet... It’s all part of the thrill," he jokes, though you can hear the smile in his voice.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "You’re such a dork, Parker."

"Yeah," he agrees, tightening his hold on you. "But you love me anyway."

And he’s right. You do.

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

[juicykvnture]

Wally West x fem!reader

Wally West x his (completely and 100% normal) vampire!gf ☆ headcannons/drable

tags: fem!reader in mind but it’s not THAT specific, mentions of blood (not graphic), fluff

a/n: yk what hell yeah

Wally West who didn't even notice that he was down bad horrendous for a vampire at first.

He didn't feel your aura of impending doom - or how you only ever left your apartment at night. He just deemed your crimson eyes a unique shade of brown, too distracted by how pretty they looked under your lashes.

Wally West who only put two and two together when he caught you curled up on the couch with a blood bag in hand, your fangs piercing through the plastic like it's a capri-sun.

He was shocked at first, rightly so! Until he thought back to your less than normal tendencies; the weird talismans you wear, the way he often wakes up with you just standing there at the foot of his bed - staring, the way your sharp nails dig into his arms, the way you bite his lip a little too hard when you kiss him.

He stares at you nothing less than bamboozled, his mouth agape as his head tilts to the side before blinking rapidly,

"Huh?? I thought you were just freaky?"

Wally West who gets a little bit jealous when you have the audacity to get your fix from a blood bag. Like, how could you when you have all of him right there?

He's like sulking from the doorway, staring at you,

"Oh, I see. Am I just a common whore, then? Just another concubine of yours?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" You glance up from the tv, your tongue darting out for a moment to catch a stray trickle of blood down your chin.

"Nothing! You have fun with your sub-par blood bag, I'm going out for a run!"

Wally West who can't even sit through any sort of vampire movie without him turning to you every two seconds with questions like -

"Wait, do they really do that?" - "Is that lore accurate?" - "You wouldn't do that to me, yeah? Promise?" (He's not entirely sure if he'd be all that offended, though)

When you don't answer that last one he plays it off with a nervous laugh, scratching the side of his neck (as if you can't hear his heart absolutely slamming)

Wally West who just insists on helping you do your makeup, even though you're fully capable of doing it yourself for years.

He claims it's cause you can't see your own reflection in most mirrors, insisting he shows you his handiwork on his phone, (old mirrors have silver, modern phones don’t) sneaking a photo every single time until he's at the point he's got a whole folder of them saved.

It's just an excuse to have you closer, so he can stare at your face for a couple minutes longer in the mornings.

Wally West who randomly pokes at your fangs whenever he feels like it, acting like he’s surprised when you retaliate by giving his fingers a bite. It’s like he’s almost dissatisfied with the fact he doesn't have cool teeth for whatever reason.

Your glare snaps him out of it sometimes, resulting in a stupid grin stretching across his face,

"What? You wouldn't tear up the light of your life!"

Wally West who is now determined to become an expert on bloodsuckers like you (bless him), asking you the most cliche shit he can think of, especially when he's all dizzy after you drain him a little.

"Do you sleep in a coffin?" He pipes up, staring up at the ceiling he's asking you about the weather or what you want for breakfast.

"No, Wally. I don't."

"You sure? Cause I can get one."

Similarly,

"You know, I have like zero problem hanging the bed upside down on the ceiling if it makes you sleep better,"

"Wally, it's fine. I can sleep like a normal person." You stare at him, wiping his blood from the corner of your lips.

"You sure? I have a drill and some rope, somewhere."

Wally West who's gotten used to you sleepily gnawing at his neck or wrist sometimes - to the point that he's actually kinda sad when you fall asleep, not pulling your face away from him unless he absolutely has to get up and do something. It's weird, but he just likes being close to you, even as a walking blood bag.

Wally West who swears on his life that he's 100% fine and not lightheaded when you forget yourself and go a little too far, shaking his head weakly when you start to ramble apologetically, already halfway to the kitchen for bandaids and iron supplements.

"No, no.. come back. It's fine." He insists.

You're not convinced, staring at his head slumped against your shoulder, carefully tilting his head up to make sure his eyes are still open.

"M'sorry."

His only response is to try shake his head, his lips curling into a dazed smile despite the fact his head is spinning.

"No, it's totallyyy fine.. you could like stab me and l'd be like it's okay. cause you're my hot girlfriend."

You're just starting at him now, he's definitely fucked up cause of blood loss.

You're shifting around on the bed, tucking a stack of pillows under his head with a soft frown, his fingers loosely tugging at your wrist so you don't pull away.

You know that any sort of lecture from you would land on deaf ears.

He truly insists that he can walk (well, run) off any and all kind of injury or affliction. He doesn't really seem to be able to comprehend the fact that losing a gallon of blood isn't the same as any run of the mill kind of scratch.

"M'fine, m'the fuckin' flash, know? My hearts like wayyyy better than a regular guys."

"Is it?" You sigh, gently stroking your fingers through his messy read hair.

"Duh? it's yours."

a/n: see! I promise I’m capable of joy and whimsy sometimes..

[clockwayswrites]

Not So Imaginary

Parts 1-3 Parts 4-6Parts 7-8 WC: 1177

“I brought you some more books to read,” Jason said as he entered the room.

After Danny had shown that they were clearly a person (a kid at that) and answered a few questions, they had been moved to an actual room on the Watchtower. Jason was pretty sure part of it was how he refused to leave the cell until Danny was moved, but he didn’t really care as long as it got his friend safe.

Danny looked up with a grin. They were pretty solid today, sitting cross-leg on the bed with feet and everything.

“You’re back,” the artificial voice spoke out from the tablet like device in Danny’s hands. It was a version of something called a SGD, Bruce had said, and was used by people who had trouble with verbal sounds. They didn’t know if Danny would always need it or if they’re vocal cords would come back as they continued to solidify.

“I am. B said I could stay a whole three hours today too as long as I ate a snack while I was here,” Jason said, holding up one of the bags he had.

Three hours still wasn’t a lot, but it was better than the one it had been the rest of the week. It took a lot of begging, but B finally agreed that Jason was well enough for a test to see how it went. Danny was still draining life force from Jason, and only Jason, which made certain Leaguers nervous about letting the two of them close. Jason had done everything he could to let it happen: he’d begged and argued, he’d eating everything Alfie wanted him to, he rested whenever Bruce wanted him too which was all the time, and he even agreed to stay benched for as long as it took.

That last one had really helped convince Bruce and Dick that Jason wouldn’t back down from helping his friend.

“Good. I am happy. What do you have?”

“You liked the Hardy Boys, right? I have a few more of those and I found you some science mags you might like,” Jason said as he flopped onto the bed next to Danny. He could feel the odd tingle travel up his arm as he leaned into Danny.

“Thank you,” Danny said with a wide smile. The tone of the electronic voice didn’t match the brightness of that smile, but it was alright. Jason could also feel how happy Danny was.

“You’re doing okay?”

“Yes.” There was a long pause as Danny found the right words. They were pretty quick already with preset phrases, but odder things still took longer than regular talking would. “WW took me to observation deck. We watched stars. She told me stories of stars from her home.”

“Yeah?” Jason asked, trying to keep his voice from hitching around the word. He couldn’t bug Danny with that yet. “You like her? Wonder Woman?”

“Yes.” The reply was quick, but Danny was watching Jason with furrowed brows. They pushed a sense of question through their bond.

“I’m fine. Just thinking through some shit,” Jason said with a wave of his hand. “But Wonder Woman is really cool. She’s my favorite too.”

Danny set the tablet aside so that they could run their fingers through Jason’s hair. It felt odd, what with not all of the fingers always being all of the way solid, but a good sort of odd. It seems Jason couldn’t just Danny’s concern aside.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?”

Danny let out what for anyone else would have been a sigh and gave a little nod. They shorted through the bag of books Jason had brought and found a Hardy Boy’s to hand over to Jason.

“What me to read to you?” Jason waited for the nod. Apparently it was really important to let Danny choose things right then, or so the adults said. “Okay, move over a bit, yeah? You’re hogging all the bed.”

Danny placed their hand to their chest, face screwing up in an affronted expression. It didn’t work though when Jason could feel the amusement through their bond.

“Yeah yeah, I’m a brute, now shove over,” Jason said with a laugh. He worked his way up until he was lounging against the head of the bed.

Danny didn’t move.

“You’re a brat,” Jason accused.

Danny gave a silent laugh, humor bumbling up in their bond, before they flopped over right onto Jason’s chest. Jason let a huff of a sigh, but ran his fingers through Danny’s hair like he knew they liked before he opened the book to start read about another adventure of the Hardy Boys.

It was easier to feel the drain like this, when they were so close to each other and touching. Jason had tried to avoid spelling that out too much to Bruce. He got that his dad was just worried, but he was afraid if B knew he’d tried to keep Danny away.

As it was Bruce was trying to send Danny away.

Jason brushed the thought aside, focusing on doing his best to give the characters good voices for Danny. At least it was a distraction from all the rest of Jason’s thoughts. Two chapters later the stopped to ask, “Want a break or do you want another chapter?”

Danny rolled over and off Jason’s chest to flop onto the pillow next to him and Jason froze. His shock must have been clear because Danny scrambled up off the bed until they were floating above Jason.

“No! It’s a good thing. Just… you’re getting some of your color back,” Jason explained. He should really stop staring. He should take Danny to a mirror to see or something, but it was just that… Danny was beautiful right then. He found himself reaching up to brush his finger tips of the bright freckles that were scattered across Danny’s cheeks and nose like a galaxy of stars.

Bright teal eyes blinked back at him.

Jason cleared his throat. “Right, sorry, let’s go let you look.”

Danny floated to the side, landing on their feet as Jason stood, and followed behind behind to the small attached bathroom. Jason guided Danny in front of the mirror. White was spreading into their hair now.

For a moment Jason was worried that Danny was frozen in shock, then the other leaned in close to the mirror, touching the surface before bringing their hand up to their own face. Suddenly Danny was moving, spinning weightlessly around Jason as they gave a soundless whoop.

“I know,” Jason said with a grin of his own. “Look at you! You’re really coming together now! I knew you could do it. I knew that you could come back.”

Slowly, Danny drifted back down so that the tips of their toes brushed against the floor. They rested their forehead against Jason’s.

He didn’t need words to understand what Danny was trying to say.

“Don’t have to thank me, stardust. I’ll always come for you just like you’ll always come for me.”

--- AN: Oh ho, is Jason starting to realize he has a crush? And what isn't he telling Danny? Hopefully this part is good, the weather is giving me such a migraine/making me super dizzy so my eyes are crossing some! (Yes, I'm resting, on the couch with a cat!)

I really should have made an update post for this... this supposed ficlet just keeps going! 7K now! Aaaah well. Anywho, stay delightful, darlings!

[sugarmuseum]

DOUBLE KILL | L.MK, L.DH | TEASER!

PAIRING: Mark Lee & Lee Donghyuck x female!reader

GENRE: smut, horror, thriller, college!au, frat!au

SUMMARY: As the campus gets filled with a bunch of frat members dressed as Ghosface for a Halloween joke, you suddenly get dragged into your own scary movie when someone decides you’ll be the protagonist.

WORD COUNT (teaser): 873 words.

AUTOR'S NOTE: edit this fic it's taking me a little more than i expected *deep sigh* i'll do my best to post it this week but in the meantime here's a teaser!

You put down your phone and walked away to finally get on your pajamas to sleep, when it lit up with another incoming call. These guys didn’t sleep or what? This time you looked at the ID, a private number. Knowing that NCT's day of nonsense is clearly not over, you answered but put it on speaker this time. 

"Hello?" You responded for the third or fourth time today, starting to undress and choosing a large, worn-out t-shirt, pulling it over your head. As no one said anything on the other line, you frowned. "Junie, you were supposed to call Yangyang, not me," you reminded him.

"This is not Renjun," a distorted voice said. You turned to look at your phone for a second, hesitating, and then continued taking off your clothes, now tossing your jeans into the laundry basket.

"Oh? So who is it then?" You asked as you rolled your eyes, feeling tired of playing this game so late. You took your phone and turned off the speaker, and turned off the lights as well. You laid down in your bed in the dark, stretching with a small sigh, happy to be in the comfort of your sheets after a long day. 

"Someone else. Going to bed already?" The caller asked, sounding interested, the low and seductive voice catching you a bit off guard. It's not the playful tone that others had used.

‘’Yeah, I was just about to,’’ you replied, turning on the small flat-screen TV in your room, looking for something on Netflix while holding the phone to your ear. ‘’Although I might put on a movie for some white noise, it helps me sleep.’’

"What movie?" The voice inquired you, tone deep and low.

‘’I don't know, maybe a horror movie,’’ you murmured, putting a random one and lowering the tv volume a little. "It's Halloween season, after all.’’ 

"A horror movie it’s gonna relax you? People stabbed and blood does that to you?’’ The caller chuckled darkly, mocking you. ‘’What's your favorite scary movie?" He asked, the altered voice resonating against your ear.

You took a pause, thinking for a few seconds. To everyone who had asked before, you had given different answers and lies to keep up the joke and ruin the original script, but this time you decided to respond with the truth, laughing quietly at how ridiculous it would sound.

"Scream," you admitted, tossing the remote aside and curling up under the blankets, keeping your eyes on the movie. "You guys, don't you get tired of making the same calls during the day? You're all going to drain the battery of that damn thing before Halloween.’’

‘’What do you like about that movie?’’ The voice ignored your last comment. 

"I find it original, I like how it mocks and pays homage to the clichés and rules of slashers," you replied, unable to prevent another big yawn from escaping. "Drew Barrymore has the most iconic scene," your attention was diverted to your door, listening to noises from downstairs. They were probably sisters returning to the building.

"Are you tired, sweetheart? I bet you were finishing your homework like the good girl you are, I am right?" The caller said, making you frown with a strange feeling forming inside you upon hearing the nickname. But you couldn't tell if it was fear or something else.

"How do you know that?" You asked, curious but a bit hesitant. 

"I saw you in the library today, looking so distracted and a bit... skittish," the voice commented with a small laugh that had you swallowing hard. "Is something making you nervous?"

‘’You know what? Yes, some group of idiots are bothering students everywhere," you mocked with your eyes closed, ready to sleep. "Including me. It's annoying."

‘’Well, in that case I hope the distractions don't make you forgetful. You remembered to lock the door, right? Did you set the alarm?’’ The caller asked, taunting you.

You could only blink as you slowly sat up in bed. The atmosphere had changed, and you felt a sense of discomfort and a bit of fear from his words, especially when the voice laughed hoarsely against your ear, as if he knew something you didn't. No one knows that today it's my turn to set the security system, you thought. 

‘’You should check that, baby. If the door’s not locked… maybe there’s someone’s already inside,’’ the voice said.

You remembered the noises you heard from downstairs. Did you set the alarm before, right? Wasn't the door closed? No sister could enter after curfew, you assured yourself, glancing a bit frantically at the time on your phone. Past midnight. You were so tired after a day that had started so early, then the classes and the quiz you had been answering for hours— no. 

You locked the door and put the security code on. Stop, you’re getting paranoid, you chastised yourself, it's just the boys being annoying. Right?

"Are you scared?" The electronic, smooth voice asked in a mocking tone, as if it knew exactly that you were going a little crazy. "Do you want me to come and help you calm down? Just open your door for me. Maybe I’m standing behind it..."