#like I would pay to go back to one of those…
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everywherea11thetime · 1 day ago
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Cady girl
cadygirl! reader x lando norris
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summary: you usually hated being a cady girl but a certain boy changed that
a/n: reallyyy super short fic that came into my mind like an hour ago. enjoy! xx
☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾
Being a cady girl wasn't fun most of the time, 18-year-old trust fund kids thought that they could say whatever they wanted to you and give you the lowest of low tips. But it did have its ups, like the pay or like when a cute guy would come up to you but it usually always ended in him showing no interest in you or secretly being a freak. Today was one of those times, let's just hope it goes well
A man had waved you down mentally rolling your eyes because he just gave off gross rich boy vibes but when he opened his mouth you were surprised to hear a “can I just have a coke and water please” and not “are you offering any other things that aren't on the menu” accompanied with a disgusting smirk and a peak up your skirt. You looked schocked for a bit but then hopped off to get his things. “Okay that will be 9.75” you said with a smile that hadn't crossed your face in a long time, it was a genuine and nice smile. His friend said something that you couldn't hear and the cute boy replied with a look down at his golf cart and and laughed “chat stop” “sorry huh” you asked. He looked up cheeks bright red “oh sorry I'm live streaming and my chat said that you were cute” you let out a knowing “ohhh, well tell them I said thank you” and started to climb back into your cart “its true ya know” you turned around and smiled “oh really” he put his head down while stuffing his hands in his pockets and nodded shyly “yea of course, your gorgeous” “thank you” you felt your cheeks warm up and started to drive away
2 hours later you were still thinking about the cute boy you served but tried pushing the thought away thinking you'd never see him again. Deep in your thoughts suddenly the sound of an engine catches your attention you turn around and see the cute boy from earlier. He walks up to you “Hey so you can totally tell me to go fuck off but could I get your number so maybe we could go on a date or something?” extending his phone out to you. God you never thought you would be excited that a golf boy was hitting on you “yea, of course, I’d love to!” you said as you typed your number into his phone “Thanks by the way I’m Lando” you smile “my names y/n” “cute name to match the cute face.” you laugh shyly as he starts to speak again “so what days do you have off, so we can hang out” “I only work on weekends and fridays, so any other day is good” he nods reassuringly “ok so how about coffee at the cafe like two blocks down on Monday?” you’d seen the coffee place and has been meaning to go get never ended up going through with it “yea actually I’d love that I’ve been meaning to go” “nice I’ve been meaning to go too! I’ll see you Friday, it’s a date” Lando said with a smile then walked away He was the cutest boy you’d ever seen. And from that moment on you knew you were doomed.
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myth1cs · 3 days ago
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Bratty (Shin Ryujin & Hwang Yeji x M!Reader)
Part 2 of Troublemaker (Both of these are smut!! Sorry!!!) Y/N is a brat and Ryujin degrades him (Again) to teach him a lesson Word Count: 2,617
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As my eighth period class was about to end the professor suddenly made an announcement to the class.
"Before you all leave I wanted to let you all know that you have the option to work with a partner for this assignment."
When he said that I turned to Yeji.
"Hey, want to work on the assignment together?"
"Yeah sure, what's your phone number?"
After we exchanged phone numbers we went our separate ways. I didn't get far as I suddenly felt someone grab my arm and pull me into an empty classroom.
"What was that Y/N?"
"Ryujin? What are you doing?"
"Don't deflect, now tell me what I just saw."
"I was just getting Yeji's phone number."
"For what Y/N? Are you going over to her house?"
"Yes but only-"
Ryujin cut me off and lightly smacked my cheek. She glared at me with eyes that felt like they would pierce my soul.
"Don't go over to her house."
"Why?"
"Don't act dumb Y/N I know what you plan on doing. You're going to shove your face in between her thighs while your over at her house."
"What, No Ryujin I wont't!"
"Yeah sure, Look Y/N you can listen to me or not. But I warn you that if you disobey me you'll pay for it."
Ryujn left and I was alone in the empty classroom.
I felt excitement as I knew my plan was working.
I always wanted Ryujin to be more dominant and degrade me harder so I had started to ignore her and started to act less excited when having sex with her which I guess is why shes been more possessive over me. She might feel like she's doing something wrong which is probably why she thinks I might be looking for other people.
At Yeji's House
I knocked on the door and waited for a response.
After waiting for a few seconds Yeji opened the door for me.
"Hi Y/N are you ready to start working?"
"Sure am Yeji."
Yeji led me to her room and we started working on the assignment. I took this moment and took a photo of Yeji and sent it to Ryujin.
After a few seconds Ryujin sent me a message but I didn't answer her. Ryujin must've not liked me ignoring her messages as my phone started vibrating constantly but I didn't pay attention to it.
"Y/N is that your phone?"
"Yeah why?"
"I think someone's trying to reach you. It sounds important."
"Don't worry about it Yeji."
I went and put me phone on silent.
"Y/N seriously I think it's important. Why would someone message you so much if it wasn't?"
"No it was just a spam message."
"Oh really? Ugh I hate those."
I started wondering about my next move. But I decided upon something I knew would get Ryujin worked up.
"Hey Yeji I know this is a weird time but would you be my girlfriend?"
"Y/N ... where is this coming from?"
"You, your everything Yeji and I want to be able to have you by my side. So will you be mine?"
"Listen Y/N you're a sweet person now and I'll admit you're kinda cute but I can't just look past everything you've done in the past."
"Yeji I swear I've been working on myself. Please give me this one chance."
Yeji sighed and looked at me. I put my hand over hers and gave it a light squeeze.
"Okay fine Y/N I'll give us a shot."
I kissed Yeji and pulled her into a hug.
"Do you want to take a picture to celebrate us Yeji?"
"Yeah sure let's do it."
I took my phone out and took a picture. After I took it I made sure I sent it to Ryujin. She is so going to kill me but I can't wait for it.
"Let's go back to our work Y/N."
Next Day
As I was heading to my eighth period class I got another text from Ryujin.
Ryujin: "Come to my room NOW"
Ryujin: "You little brat stop ignoring me!"
Ryujin: "Y/N I swear you better not have shoved your face in between Yeji's thighs yesterday!"
I kept ignoring her texts and continued on my way.
When I got into eighth period I sat down but not for long as suddenly the principals voice came over the speakers.
"Y/N make your way to room 304."
"Y/N I thought you said you would work on bettering yourself." Yeji said with a disappointed tone.
"Oh no it's not that Yeji I swear, let me prove it, follow me when I leave and Ryujin will tell you."
I walked out of the classroom and waited. I overheard Yeji ask to use the restroom and she came out of the classroom shortly after.
"Glad you decided to follow me."
I led Yeji to Ryujin's room and we both went inside together.
When we walked in Ryujin started speaking and she sounded pissed off "Y/N you little-"
Ryujin looked shocked when she saw Yeji by my side. She probably only expected me to come.
Ryujin quickly cleared her throat "What brings you here with your friend Y/N?"
"Actually she's my girlfriend."
I could see Ryujin was struggling to keep her smile up "Well that's nice to know."
"So why did you call Y/N here anyways?" Yeji asked.
"I just wanted to tell him I was so proud of him. He hasn't been written up and his grades are improving at a rapid rate."
"Thank you Ryujin that means a lot coming from you." I smiled at Ryujin when I said that and I could tell she wanted to have her way with me.
"Come on Yeji let's go back."
After School
As I was walking home I got another text from Ryujin
Ryujin: "Come over to my house. I'll rehabilitate you and knock that bratty behavior out of you."
I knew I had Ryujin where I wanted her so I made my way over to her house. When I arrived I went ahead and knocked on the door. No one opened and I was about to knock again but then I got another text from Ryujin.
Ryujin:"It's unlocked, come upstairs to my room."
I opened the door and made my way to Ryujin's room.
"Hello?"
"Come in!"
When I opened the door Ryujin quickly shoved me into a wall.
"Y/N you better have a damn good explanation for yourself!"
I started giggling and tried to kiss her but Ryujin smacked me.
"I don't want your filthy mouth touching my perfect face. Now tell me what the fuck you've been doing. Was I just a sex toy for you? Do you think you can do better than me?!"
"Ryujin I just wanted you to degrade me more that's all. You're perfect I would never replace you for Yeji."
Ryujin started laughing and looked at me with eyes that I was too familiar with.
"So you want to play that game huh Y/N? Well I'll show you what happens to brats like you."
Ryujin stripped naked and shoved me to the bed.
"I thought you said you were only my slut but it turns out you lied to me. And you should know that I hate liars Y/N."
"W-wait! Ryujin what are you doing!"
Ryujin grabbed a rope she had lying on the floor. She started to tie my hands to the bed frame preventing me from moving.
"Okay Ryujin I get it I won't be a brat anymore!"
"Well that's no fun is it Y/N?"
Ryujin pulled my pants down and my erected cock sprung out. Ryujin spat on it and started to pump it.
"Y/N look at your filthy cock. It's so sad you get turned on so easily. You're nothing but a sad degenerate."
Ryujin put the tip of my cock inside her mouth. She put her tongue all over it and I felt myself about to cum. My cock was twitching inside her mouth but she pulled out before I could cum.
"No. no, no Ryujin please let me cum!"
"Pathetic, My personal slut is nothing but a sex addict. What if I just leave you like this Y/N? Leave you needy all day long. My parents don't come back until tomorrow afternoon so I have plenty of time to toy with my favorite boy toy."
Ryujin sat on me just barely away from my cock. She straddled me and I couldn't help but get even harder from having her weight on me. She startled to lift my shirt and drew patterns on my chest.
"What to do with you Y/N I have so many options. What will take the brat out of you?"
I saw a sparkly in her eyes. This couldn't be good.
Ryujin got off me and went grabbed my pants. She pulled my phone out and took pictures of me.
"No don't it's embarrassing!" But my plea went unheard.
Ryujin started texting someone and looked at me with a smile that felt deadly.
"No! I know who you just texted please delete that message before she sees it!"
"Shh relax boy toy. I promise you'll enjoy what happens next."
Ryujin grabbed her breasts and put my cock in between them. She started to rub them on my cock.
I started moaning. Her breasts were so soft and squishy I wanted to cum all over them.
"Oh you like these? They're just a pair of breasts Y/N they're nothing special. Are you that much of a loser that seeing a simple pair of breasts is enough to get you worked up?"
"Ryujin!"
I couldn't help but whine. Ryujin wasn't letting me cum I felt my balls aching and wanting releases but she kept denying me.
"Please Ryujin!"
"I don't know Y/N does a whore like you deserve it? Maybe if you beg for it I'll consider it."
"Ryujin Ryujin please let me cum! I promise I won't be a brat anymore!"
Ryujin laughed at me and licked the top of my cock.
"My my Y/N I didn't think you would go as low as to beg for it. You're acting like a kid begging his mom to buy him fast food."
"Mommy please!"
My face immediately turned red when I said that. Fuck I accidentally said that out loud now she's going to make fun of me for sure.
"Mommy? Am I your mother now Y/N? Do you want me to hold you lovingly and kiss you goodnight now?"
Ryujin rubbed circles on my thighs and I could do nothing but watch as she rejects my orgasm.
Suddenly I heard the door downstairs open.
"We're up here!" Ryujin yelled.
The footsteps got closer. I was worried Ryujin's parents came home early but then the person entered the room.
"Yeji?! It's not what it looks like!"
"Y/N what the fuck is going on!"
"Yeji isn't this beautiful. Look at Y/N pathetically tied to the bed. Want to show him what happens to brats?"
I looked at Yeji and saw that her eyes had changed.
I knew I only had a few moments before Yeji made up her mind "Ryujin that isn't necessary-" but I was too late.
"Yeah Ryujin I want to teach Y/N a lesson."
"Kiss me."
Yeji got on top of me and started to make out with Ryujin. It was horrible seeing them make out while my cock was still hard.
"Look at Y/N I bet he wishes his pathertic cock was in between our lips." Ryujin looked at me with a smirk as she said that.
Yeji started to suck on Ryujin's breasts eliciting moans from Ryujin. Some of Yeji's saliva fell onto the bed. She didn't stop there though she shoved three fingers inside of Ryujin without warning.
"Yeji damn it your so much better than Y/N's cock ever was!"
"Fuck you Ryujin you literally came all over my cock last time!"
"Did you hear something Ryujin?"
"No must've been the wind."
I was turned on by the sight of both of them making out but I wanted to cum. I was in a state of pain of feeling erected but I didn't have anyway to relieve it.
"Ryujin do you think we should let Y/N cum?"
"Ugh fine we can let our little toy cum."
Ryujin and Yeji got their hands off each other and turned to me. Yeji took off her clothes and let my cock enter her warm pussy while Ryujin sat on my face.
"Go on boy toy make us cum!" Ryujin ordered.
I started to lick Ryujin's pussy and quickly shoved my cock in and out of Yeji's. They both started to make out during this and their saliva was starting to drip onto me.
"Y/N you bastard. How dare you cheat on me with Ryujin. We haven't even been together for a whole week. But you can make up for it if you make me cum hard."
"Yeji I only did it to rile Ryujin up."
"So I was nothing but a tool for you Y/N? I'm going to make you cum so much until you don't have any cum left asshole."
-
The torture had gone on for hours at this point. I couldn't stop my cock from getting hard but I was extremely exhausted. I came so much yet somehow Yeji and Ryujin weren't getting slower.
"Y/N get your filthy cock hard again. You aren't done until I say so!"
"Please Yeji stop I can't take it!"
"Should have thought of that before you used her." Ryujin responded.
I licked Ryujin's pussy so much my tongue started to hurt. Eventually she finally came all over my face again.
"I'm done here Yeji you can take Y/N from here." Ryujin laid down next to me pulling me close. I felt her warm sweaty body press up against me and it turned me on again.
"So your cock does still have some life in it."
"Yeji please no more."
"One more Y/N or should I beat the living shit out of you for cheating on me?"
I groaned and continued to thrust into Yeji. My body felt like it was on fire and I was sweating profusely.
"Ah! Yes Y/N show me how much you love me!"
"Yeji my cock is so sore!"
After a few more thrusts we both came at the same time. Yeji collapsed on me afterwards.
"Yeji I'm sorry I used you."
"It's fine Y/N but you better continue to fuck me like this."
"I don't think I have any cum left in me Yeji you drained everything."
Yeji kissed me softly and we both fell asleep.
-
The next morning we all woke up and out nostrils were filled with the smell of sex.
"It smells like 20 people had sex in here." Ryujin exclaimed, still groggy after she woke up.
"Come on Y/N help me clean up the place loser."
"Why me? Yeji also had sex with us!"
"Well you're the one who used her. So the least you can do is clean up her mess."
I had no choice. I got up and started to help Ryujin with the cleaning.
"You know Y/N I can't let this slide. No sex for 2 weeks."
"What!?
"You said you'd change your behavior and yet you went right back to using people for your own gain."
Ryujin gave me a smug look and I couldn't do anything but continue cleaning her room.
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If you're wondering why it took so long to make part 2 it's because I had to rewrite this story 3 times. I'm so tired
Y/N gets degraded even more cause it's the only thing he deserves. I am never writing Y/N as dom.
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kimuzostar · 3 days ago
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YOU CAN'T HIDE ii
⊱ bountyhunter!terry x black fem reader ⊰ ⊱ warnings: 18+, smut, degradation kink, pregnancy scare, mention of clinic visit, slight choking, stalking aspects, slight dom!terry and more i forgot ⊰ ⊱ probably the last part for this, i don't know... writing smut scares me because i'm bad at it ⊰ enjoy
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A few weeks have passed of you being on the run. The media coverage of the robbery had died down; yet you were still on edge. 
Not about the robbery but about him.
“When I catch you again, I won’t be as nice.”
 His words replayed over and over in your head. You felt them deep in your stomach, just like his di-
No, no, no. You will not allow a man to be the proprietor of your downfall. 
After he left, you gathered your things and immediately headed for the nearest bus station. You brought a ticket to Arondale, another small town about four hours away. You needed to put distance between the two of you. 
As you boarded the bus, you had an eerie feeling of being watched. You turn and see a truck. His truck. 
Its lights cut on and it rapidly sped off in the opposite direction. 
You let out a sigh of relief. 
Now you could live in peace….. or so you thought. 
You were currently bent over the toilet of your dingy motel room. The entire contents of your stomach emptied out before you. 
For the last 5 or so days, you’ve been unable to hold down any food, certain smells cause you to gag, and you’ve been over emotional about every little thing. 
The tenant next door was not being of any help as he didn’t seem to know how to lower his volume. Constantly playing loud music and talking loudly. Every time you went to complain, he would get quiet and not answer his door. 
The one time you did see him, his back was turned to you as he got in his car. You wish you would’ve saw his face so you could flip it off. 
You were trying not to think the worst, brushing it off to a persistent stomach bug. But your period was late and that wasn’t making anything more comforting. 
“There’s no fucking way!”, you whisper to yourself. 
There’s no way you could possibly be pregnant by a man you don’t even know. A man whose face you’ve never even seen. You didn’t need any of this right now. 
Gathering yourself, you pull up to look in the mirror. Your curly hair wild, eyes shadowed with bags and your plump lips were chapped. You were a mess. 
You needed a pregnancy test. There was a small market across the street. You gathered your jacket and headed out. 
-
The market was stocked; having every essential one might need. 
You grabbed a buggy. You were going to get everything you needed so if you get the worst, you wouldn’t have to come out for a while. 
As you turn down one of the aisles, you bump into someone. 
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” you say. 
Looking up, you see it’s your loud next door tenant. He’s wearing shades with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. A perfect set of 32s. 
“That’s no bother, just don’t do it again,” he replies. 
Already aggravated, you didn’t have the energy to play into his games. You continue along the aisle, paying him no more attention. 
Scanning the items, you finally find what you’re looking for; a clear blue pregnancy test. You grab it, biting your lower lip out of nervousness. 
Taking a step backwards, you run into what feels like a brick wall. A pair of arms surround you, the hands covering yours over the test. They lift them so the owner can take a closer look. 
“A pregnancy test. Who dis fa?”, the person says. 
You push back, turning to see who it is. 
It’s the tenant again. 
“Don’t fucking touch me and it’s none of your fucking business.”
He laughs, taking off his shades to get a better look at you. 
“I think it’s a lot of my business considering I could be a daddy.”  
Fuck, those eyes. 
It was him. The bounty hunter. 
Terry stood before you, smiling so big that his eyes disappeared. His hair was cut low, his skin bronzed by the sun. 
He was beautiful. 
You were frozen, unable to properly process what was going on. You wanted to run but your body wouldn’t move. You have many questions but your mouth wouldn’t move. 
“You look surprised. What’s wrong?”, he says jokingly. 
You finally get the push to speak. 
“You’re not the only person I’ve been with so you’re probably not the father”, you lie. 
Terry raises one of his eyebrows. “Is that so?”, he says. 
“Yes, so you can go away now”, you reply. 
“Nah, I’m curious about the results. Let's get back to your room”, he says walking towards the registers.
Your shoulders sunk. There was no way of this. 
-
Terry watched every step of you take your test; standing in the bathroom doorway like a bouncer. 
You avoided eye contact, feeling vulnerable about the current situation. 
“What does it say?”, he asks. 
“I don’t know, the instructions say there’s a 20 minute wait,” you reply. 
He sighs, looking up at the ceiling in thought. 
“What should we name it? I’m thinking Junior for a boy and Jasmi for a girl”, he says, smiling. 
You scoff. 
“You have lost your black ass mind if you think I’m having a baby with you. Plus, you don’t even know if this is your baby. The only thing I’m worried about is what clinic I need to go to”, you say. 
You peek at him through your lashes. He stood arms crossed, no longer smiling. You could cut the tension with a knife. 
“I’ve been watching you for weeks. There is no other man”, he says. 
“How did you find me? I left Springville weeks ago, it should’ve been impossible for you to find me here.”
Terry smiles, a laugh erupting deep from within his chest. 
“I never stopped following you, you’re just too fucking stupid to realize it. I followed your bus all the way here. I’ve been staying next door the whole time.”, he chuckles. 
You stood there dumbfounded. The clogs in your brain jammed and you were unable to produce a coherent thought. 
The loud music, the loud talking, the man entering the car. All him. 
“Are you actually insane? Do you not hear how ridiculous you sound? What’s not clicking?”, you say. 
Terry’s brows furrowed in genuine confusion. 
“Why are you so mad? I never told you I was going to leave you alone. I said when I catch you, not if I catch. You’re my problem until I feel you’re sorted out,” he says. “You were warned yet you still can’t hide.”
He stepped towards you. You step back and he follows you until you hit the wall. He leans down, his lips brushing your ear. You shiver at the contact. 
“Do I scare you?”, he asks, tracing a circle on your hip. 
Feigning dominance, you respond, “No, I’m not scared of you.”
You were definitely afraid of him. 
“I’m not afraid of a bubbling moron that goes around stalking people, unable to act like an adult,” you continue. 
You see Terry’s shoulders shake with a silent laugh. He pulls back, trailing the hand on your hip up to your neck. He wraps it around, squeezing slightly. You can feel your nipples harden through your shirt. 
”As long as you’re here, I won’t ever leave you alone. Deal with it”, he says. 
The statement causes you to look down at the floor. The thought of him bothering you forever was too much to bear. 
Terry lifts your chin so you can meet his eyes. You’re stuck, unable to look away; almost like you were being hypnotized. 
He kisses you, his mouth engulfing yours. His lips were so soft, citing a moan from you. His hands slide their way to your butt. He squeezes, pulling you flesh against his body. 
He picks you up, walking you over to the bed. He places you down, still not breaking the kiss. 
Your tongues fight for power, neither of you wanting to fall to the other. 
“Take these off”, he says tugging at your pants. 
You oblige, removing your shirt, pants and underwear. He does the same, allowing you to finally get a good look at his body. 
He was chiseled by the gods. His shoulders were large, coupled with a six pack and a deep v-line leading down to a hung dick. 
Terry hovers over you, settling his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your scent. His fingers begin to rub up and down your pussy, softly grazing over your clit. 
He plunges two fingers in you. He licks from your collarbone to the shell of your ear. He gives it a kiss. 
“Still as tight as last time. There’s no way somebody else been in here,” he teases in your ear. 
“Would’ve been better than you anyways,” you reply. 
Terry freezes. He pulls his fingers out of you, lifting his head up to stare in your eyes. The stoic expression is back. 
Uh oh. 
He sits back, using your hips to flip you on your stomach. His hands find your hair and he pushes your face into the mattress. He straddles you, his other hand on your back.  You can feel his dick resting on your ass. 
“I’ve been being really nice. I don’t appreciate all this back talk,” he says. 
“If you stop talking so much shit then maybe we wouldn’t have that problem,” you reply. 
Terry pushes you further into the mattress, leaning in closer to your face. 
“Apologize and mayb-“, he starts. 
“Fuck you”, you spit, cutting him off. 
With no warning, he slams into you, taking a pause so you can adjust around him. 
His grip loosens from your hair, wrapping it around to cover your mouth. He lowers the rest of his body on you, trapping you between him and the mattress. 
“You don’t know how to shut up and be a good girl. Always got that bitchy attitude. That’s ok, I can fix that”, he says with a smile. 
He begins to thrust into you, hard. The position made it feel like he was poking your lungs. 
“Can’t nobody fuck this pussy like I can.”
He would pull up, only leaving the tip; rolling his hips, before thrusting back in. He kept moving over your spot; it felt like scratching an itch slowly.
“Talking all that big shit, say something now,” he urges, removing his hand. 
All you could respond with was a moan. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t form any words. He was fucking you dumb. 
You began to pant, feeling out of breath; that familiar knot growing in your stomach. 
Terry shifts, the change of angle reaching a new dept within you. 
“Cumming,” you say with an exasperated sigh. He continued to fuck you through it, making it feel like it was going on forever. 
“That’s what I thought”, he says. 
Terry flips over to his side, taking you with him. He grabs the back of your knee, pulling it up to your ear. He slides back into you, feeling even deeper than before. 
“Ah, fuck, that feels so fucking good”, you say. 
“You are mine, this pussy is mine, all MINE. You belong to me,” he growls, planting a kiss on your knee.  
You nodded. The words sounding like music to your ears. If this was the kind of dick you’d get everyday, you thought it wouldn’t be too bad. Besides, you know he wasn’t going to leave you alone anytime soon. Especially if you had a baby on the way. 
“You will be a slut for me, whether you like it or not  
He kept slamming into, never letting up. His free hand grabs your neck, pulling you closer to his face. You felt the warmth of his breath on your skin. 
“I’m gonna cum again”, you say. 
“Let it go, wet that dick up”, he replies. 
With that, you let go, screaming to the heavens. Terry follows closely behind. You feel him tense up as he paints your walls white. 
The two of you are a mess of sweat and deep breaths. Terry pulls out of you, looking down at the art he created. He gives a playful slap to your ass cheek.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”, he says.
You roll your eyes, getting a chuckle out of him. 
He gets up, heading to the bathroom to check on the test. 
“Oh look”, he says flashing it to you, “it’s negative”.
-
@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @skvrpion @avoidthings @jimmybutlrr @persethegawd @nayaesworld @mymindisneverhere @theereina @thabiddie23 @planetblaque @megamindsecretlair @melaninpov @madamzola @literallegendicon @blyffe
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tparadox · 19 hours ago
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You've expressed how I watch movies (in a pretty pendantic way that sounds like it makes it hard to be a movie watching friend of yours), but I think that's only one way.
My wife is always asking me to tell her the things the movie is supposed to make you wonder and anticipate finding out. I absolutely hate spoilers and give answers as cagey as I can get away with, which drives her crazy too.
Some of it is not engaging fully with the story in the way that it's meant to be due to lack of practice of the skill, some because English is not her first language and she honestly misses important things so she's never fully sure if she missed something or it's something we haven't learned yet. But also I think there's a disconnect in our cultural approaches.
I watch movies by politely staying quiet and paying direct attention, but seeing her watch movies with her family, it's a much more participative and communal experience for them. You cheer when something good happens, you cringe when something bad happens, you discuss what's happening while it's happening and before it happens.
So sometimes she's asking me questions because she wants me to answer them, but I think sometimes she's asking questions because she wants the movie to answer them, and verbalizing those questions is how she expresses her engagement.
Remember: as satisfying as a good reveal is the first time, going back to find what you missed in previous viewings is a heartier overall experience. Some people just aren't wired for the hit of the pieces falling into place and just want to skip straight to sucking the dramatic irony marrow.
Side note: this aversion to sitting with the curiosity isn't as generational as the Netflix Effect theory would imply. My mother likes to read books by reading the first page, then the last page, then the first chapter, then the last chapter, and then if the ending seems satisfying, skipping around the middle until she's read it all. She hates waiting to find out the answers almost as much as my wife. And cozy mysteries are her favorite genre.
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machveil · 19 hours ago
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I can't resist the siren call
Roommate!Simon Riley that low-key enjoys fucking with your friends Y/N
subtle foreshadowing… I suppose I can dip into my nsfw Roommate!Simon Riley thoughts
Roommate!Simon Riley who shares a laundry bin with you, it had been agreed a long time ago that just doing a big load would be easier. you takes turns, knowingly stealing each other’s clothes every couple days when the laundry is fresh out the machine. you know Simon took an oversized t-shirt you owned, but that’s okay, you took his favorite gym hoodie
Roommate!Simon Riley who doesn’t get embarrassed about his underwear being in the bin with yours, it’s all going in the machine anyways. that doesn’t stop him from raising an eyebrow though when his favorite boxers go missing. he was sure he put them in with the dirties, well, the cleans now. he figures the machine ate it, or maybe they’ll show up some day by chance - he shrugs it off and separates his clothes from yours, snagging one of your oversized sweaters to lounge in later
Roommate!Simon Riley who freezes when he sees you on the couch that night. eyes wide and jaw slack, he can’t bring himself to move. sat watching something on the tv - he can’t be bothered to acknowledge whats playing - he stares at you, wearing his boxers as shorts. “Hey, come watch this— I’ll catch you up since it just started. I’m not pausing it though so you better pay attention.”, your words are all in one ear and out the other. suddenly his legs are moving on their own, stopping in front of you. he doesn’t register what you’re saying, telling him to move because you can’t see the tv, but then he speaks
Roommate!Simon Riley whose voice is deliciously deep, a little raspy from how his throat suddenly feels dry, “S’that mine?”, he asks, eyeing his boxers. he’s never had such a hard time swallowing before, heartbeat erratic as you casually respond, “Huh— oh, yeah. They’re really comfy, the fabrics nice.”. fabrics nice, yeah, he knows. “You— ya know those are boxers, right love?”, he asks, hands twitchy as you reply, “Mhm, just borrowin’ them.”
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CW: guilty wank, man is hopeless [kisses his cheek]
Roommate!Simon Riley who’s a mess after that interaction. you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him, but he’s losing it on the inside. he’s seen you be audacious with stealing his clothes before, taking his loose-fit tank tops that left little to the imagination on you, stealing clothes you knew he favored and parading around in them, but his boxers? that had him stalking back to his room, quick to turn on his heel before you could see his pants tent
he’s sweating, closes the door to his room a little harder than he meant to. god, he wants to go back out there and see you again, get an eyeful of how comfortable you looked - wearing his boxers like they were yours. you wouldn’t know, and he can’t help but think about it, but you had stolen his favorite pair. they’re plain, a simple black pair, something he bought at the store because he needed new underwear. but when you wear them? they suddenly looked different, makes his heart hammer against his chest. it feels like he walked out into the living room and you wearing lingerie, not something he got for fifteen pounds
he feels a little guilty, shoving his jeans down his thighs as he sits down on his bed. you’re home, sat in the living room just down the hall, and here’s Simon fishing his leaky cock out of his underwear. he really shouldn’t, he should sneak into the bathroom for a cold shower, think about war and blood and bullets to get his boner down. but he isn’t, he’s spitting into his palm and groaning, bringing his free hand up to cover his mouth - he’s never been good about keeping quiet. it’s not his fault you were out there wearing his clothes, you were the one that decided to look so— so cozy and content in your makeshift shorts. domestic
when that word settles at the forefront of his brain Simon’s hips jerk, you looked domestic, wanting to watch some show with him. his leg jolts slightly, hand moving to shallowly pump his weeping head. maybe your friends are right, Simon does take care of you - could bend you over and make you sob his name - he’s basically your boyfriend, often mistaken for your husband. his thighs tense when he imagines a ring on your finger— no, his dog tags hanging from your neck— god, holding you at night as an actual couple—
he’s choking out a moan, muffled and hoarse, as he coats his hand. eyes fluttering shut and breathing heavily, all his thoughts fly out the window as his cum drips down his fingers - all his thoughts except for one. he’s going to have to go back out there later to eat dinner with you, and oh, fuck, he sucks in a deep breath as he chubs up again
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heartfullofleeches · 1 day ago
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thoughts
brie would go feral over virgin lust demon darling having like, a demonic form, preferably with big honkers
Yan "Delivery Boy" + Virgin Lust Demon Reader
[Very brief body horror]
-
"So.... A demon, huh?"
Friends tells friends everything. Their fears, their hopes, their secrets. That's how things play out in the movies, anyway. It's hard keeping up with people reaching out a branch of friendship when you seldomly have the stamina to keep up with them or even pick up their calls.
"Yeah! My mom was a demon and my dad's a regular old human.... Or- was it the other way around? I haven't talked to either of them in forever."
As skeptical as anyone would be in his position, Brie felt there had to be a pinch of veracity to your proclamation. Cuteness like yours wasn't a natural feat. His stomach was still raw with the flutters of anxiety retailing the night he showed up on your doorstep to be met with that clueless, charitable smile of yours.
"Oh, yeah?" Brie challenges with a small smirk. "Well if you're a demon, you should probably know what I do to your pizzas before I hand them over to you.
Brie's hands promptly fly over his mouth, every aspect of himself screaming at him for almost letting his own little secret slip through the cracks. Luck being on his side, you merely laugh off off his statement as you spring up from your place on the couch.
"You'd better not be stealing any of my toppings! I pay good money for every slice... Least I used to before all those vouchers you gave me... I can show you if you really don't believe me... I trust you, Brie."
Brie melts into the couch cushions, vulnerability and trust in your eyes welding him in place as you apprehensively fiddle with the sleeve of your shirt - awaiting his answer.
"O..okay." He stammers, tongue tied as the ceiling lights perfectly illuminate every one of your features that keeps him awake at night. "Sure, I guess... Show me."
"Great!" Kicking off your shoes, your limbs grow stagnant as your eyes roll back in their sockets - veins branching outward cross the whites of your scleras till they are reduced to a milky ruby hue. Your fingertips elongate, skin merging with the keratin of your nails as they sharpen into razor points.
Sickening cracks and pops can be heard as the bones of your spine snap to make room for more. Breaths piercing and ragged, your chest swells with each draw of air you pull in - testing the resilience of your formly loose fitting tee shirt as your bust ballons to your noticeable uptake in size.
Rolling your now forked tongue over flat teeth, your toothy grin still holds that realm of innocence as you gaze down at Brie.
"Well?"
Brie jumps as something heavy hits the floor - twin tails swishing back and forth in anticipation. Horror should have been the prominent force driving through him. Fear and terror is what he should have felt. Those were the emotions a coward would experience in this moment, and as a man who branded himself spineless for being unable to express his love to you in a normal and sane way perhaps he was braver than initially believed.
"titties...."
Cocking your head to one side, confusion takes the forefront of your expression. As your hair falls over your face, small, nubby horns can be seen at the bases of your temples.
"Did you say something, Brie?"
"H-huh?! Me?? Course not. You're probably just hearing the ceiling fan." He certainly didn't mention your chest- Nor was he seconds away from spilling into a feverish tangent about how desperately he wanted your massive breasts in his face, and preferably his mouth. That'd be crazy-
Brie peals out of his jacket as if it were on fire, balling and shoving it between his thighs as he laughs - shepherding his eyes anywhere but the dip in your shirt.
"Whew- Man, it's chilly in here! I should've worn longer pants! Hahaha-"
"I can bring you some blankets?"
"No thanks, I'm good! You're super cute by the way! Even more so in this form. Your tits- Fuck! Tails! R-really caught my eye."
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redjaybathood · 1 day ago
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They were probably talking about people not being able to afford heating or having a decent place to live. Like, I know everyone - but the people who actually lived through it/had talked with their grandmas and grandpas about their childhood and youth - believes USSR was some kind of paradise, ditto with communist China. Nobody talks about slavery, about not having enough food to eat - and I am not talking about the famous famines/Holodomor even, just the scarcity of food, unless you are in the party elite - about how people were forced to live in barracks (not like military type barracks, but the cheap flimsy dirty cold type of communal housing with no central heating, no water, not even an indoor toilet)
"oh but USSR gave people free flats" unless you are talking about flats former owners of which, say, Jews, other minorities and types of enemies of the people, were arrested and shot or imprisoned in slavery labor camp prisons (to escape which people even resorted to cannibalism at times... This remark is directly to people who compare USSR prison system to the US one and even find the US one more harsh. How to put it? Prisons in most countries formerly occupied by Soviets are way better than back then, and excluding some more EU oriented countries, the inmates are pretty jealous of the US' prisons conditions, let's put it this way) - so their flats were freed up and up to grabs.
And sure, some people would get those flats, but not everyone.
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This is called socrealism not because it realistically and truthfully depicts what's going on: a woman from lower class with a lot of children gets to have amazing luxurious flat, leisure and conditions to grow houseplants, raise a cat, buy a deficit radio or bike - all thanks to Stalin. That wasn't the reality of most of USSR citizen, especially working/farming class (which her hairstyle suggest she's from). That's a carrot they hanged before your nose.
The reality was, even if you got an apartment built by the government, this could have taken years. My family, for example, worked for thirty years before getting a 2 bedroom for six people. And my gran was what they called then, an invalid of childhood (meaning, she got a work-impairing disability from the childhood, thus she was supposed to get more social help from the government. Yeah, right). She didn't have a light job either. She was working full time. My dad, on the other hand, was doing one of the most difficult and health threatening jobs ever.
But hey, you will say, it's still a free flat! I'm in the goddamn capitalist corporate hell America, and I am paying thousands of American dollars to rent!
I feel you, Buddy, I don't have a home of my own either. With the war, I never will - I am pretty sure I will die faster than I can save for a downpayment.
But free flats weren't really free. You were still paying for them, with your labour being the least of it, bc your labour was underpaid. Like, you guys have 401K or something, right? Well, imagine you from now on have to get a pay cut, with your employer keeping most value of what you created, to themselves, and using some of it for a housing fund, where you may or may not get a flat for your grandchildren somewhere down the line. If you don't die earlier or become an enemy of the state or just being not very liked or socially adept person. "Capitalists still do that! We work, they enrich themselves! And now I can't afford to buy a flat!" so yeah, you're basically saying that there's no difference between capitalism and communism, you're still exploited in communism. You get that, right?
So yeah, you would have to pee a lot because you don't have money for charcoal or access to the market - and will be thrown into jail and or short for buying it on the black market - under maoism. And you would have to live in flimsy housing with lotsa spiders because you have to work dozens of years to build a whole apartment building by the cost of your labour, before you get even one room there.
(and that's if you don't piss someone who is sitting on the apartment distribution channel, because oh well. No housing for you, comrade)
I'm glad you two at least did not make fun of settler colonialism.
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to be fair i dont know much about communism but i dont remember ever heard of something like that being part of their beliefs if im being honest with you
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thelov3lybookworm · 1 day ago
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Belonging with them
Day 3: Belonging.
Summary: He knew where he belonged now.
•○●⛦●○•
Word Count: 1150
Warnings: azzie continues being jelly of kaden lolll
A/n: i love hazel sm yall dont get it 🥺 this fic is based on a short i saw on yt and the dad is like the biggest hunk and gave such cassian vibes and he genuinely cried 🥺 i was gonna write this fic for cassian but then i decided to give this to azzie cus he deserves to cry hehe
(if you dont know hazel and kaden, theyre from my mini series overprotective bat. it was a 2 part series which can be found on my azriel masterlist. all the fic in this week will be revolving around these two cuties hehe)
@azrielappreciationweek
ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳
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"I don’t really know where I fit in anymore."
"I’ve been alive almost five and a half centuries and I’m not sure of that, either."
The day he had said those words to Feyre seemed like a lifetime away, as if experienced in a dream centuries ago when he was younger and could not differentiate between reality and what his brain had conjured up. But he knew, it had merely been five years.
The five years he had cherished the most in his life.
He loved his family. He adored the way Rhys and Cassian bickered during their annual snowball fight, the way Amren found a way to slide in a snide remark at every dinner, the way Mor would always be ready to go partying. Above all, he adored how all his family including the Archeron sisters would be ready to help him and be there for him any day. Even in the middle of the night when he did not want to wake up his wife but knew he needed someone to help him with his crying daughter.
But… they did not complete him. He loved them to bits and would readily give his life for them… before he met his now wife and decided she was the one he would spend his life with, mating bond be damned. He had lost all hopes of finding his mate back then after waiting for five centuries.
Imagine his shock when on their wedding day, he felt another thread of gold tying him to his wife.
Now as he sat watching his daughter pet a purring Nuts lounging on the low table in front of him while explaining to him how tea was made, he smiled.
He had found his place of belonging. And it was with his wife and daughter.
Of course, there had to be that boy trying to take his daughter away from him. What was his name? Kade? Kaden? Azriel thought bitterly.
He knew he was being dramatic. His daughter was barely four years at this point, no four year old was going to steal her away.
Hazel turned to Azriel, making him focus all his attention on her. He offered her a smile when she handed him a small pink cup.
"What is this?" He asked, bringing the empty toy to his lips.
She shot him an incredulous look. "It’s the tea you ordered daddy."
"Oh, yeah sorry, I was thinking about something."
She shook her head. "Stop thinking and focus, daddy. Kaden always pays attention."
Azriel stilled.
I am being compared to a four year old boy now? What has life come to.
He sighed, mumbling out an apology even though all he wanted to do was tell her to stay away from that boy.
He did not want to be forced to go apologise again.
She began fumbling with the littered toys on the desk once more, completely ignoring Azriel in favour of mumbling instructions to Nuts, as if teaching him how to cook.
As he watched her move over to the huge armchair and place a cup on it, conversing with what Azriel could only hope was not spirits of the deceased, his curiosity peaked.
Maybe it was a bad idea, but he needed to make sure that she was not getting overly friendly with Kaden.
"Hazel, this tea is amazing." He waited till she giggled before continuing. "By the way, how’s school?"
It was daycare to help her get accustomed to going to school next year, but Hazel insisted she was a big girl and attended big girl school.
"It’s fine. Miss Black gave me a gold star yesterday because I helped her." Hazel was focused on the air she was stirring in her red pot as she talked, lips pursed slightly in concentration.
"Hmm. Who’s your best friend?"
Please don’t say Kaden. Not Kaden. Please.
She turned around to glare at him, and he wondered if by any chance he had said the words aloud. But he knew he hadn’t. Azriel wouldn’t let himself speak without permission from himself.
Her brows bunched up, lips pouting and eyes narrowed, she looked as offended as an old grandma being told her grandchild was full and did not want more food.
"Daddy, it’s you. You’re my best friend." She rolled her eyes.
Azriel watched. He simply watched her return back to stirring her pot.
Cassian had been the one to teach her the eye rolling. Azriel had been amused. Seeing a child barely reaching his knees roll her eyes at him like she had lived five lives was nothing short of funny.
But right now, it felt anything but.
It’s you daddy.
His eyes were prickling, that was his first conscious thought after long moments of silence in his head. His vision was getting blurry, throat clogging. Tell tale signs of a sob session oncoming. But he could not bring himself to care as he stared at this little faeling, who did not even realise what she had done.
You’re my best friend.
Azriel simply sat back against the couch, the cushions pressing against his bare back, and let the tears have their way on his skin.
I’m her best friend.
Even despite the emotions Hazel had brought forth, somewhere in the back of his mind Azriel was rejoicing that her best friend was not Kaden.
Guess I’m never beating the territorial illyrian accusations.
The shadows settled down on his shoulders, swirling softly against his skin as they too watched Hazel play and pet Nuts occasionally. They did not inform him of his wife’s arrival in the living room. They did not have to. He simply felt when her presence was near. The all consuming feeling of love growing stronger in his chest being another indicator.
"Hazel, it’s bath time baby. Let’s go."
Hazel huffed as if what Y/n had said was the most outrageous thing ever. "Mommy, I can’t leave yet. There are customers."
Azriel practically felt his wife’s eyes narrow. "Daddy can attend to your customers."
Hazel turned to look at Azriel pleadingly, her eyes wide and placating before they filled with shock. "Daddy why are you crying!"
Y/n drew closer. "Azzie?"
Azriel blinked, smiling up at his wife before picking up his daughter. "It’s nothing. Just some dust."
Hazel turned to scowl at Nuts. "I told you to clean up properly. Now see, because of you my daddy is crying."
Azriel huffed out a laugh, pressing his lips to her round cheek.
"Let’s go shower baby. I’ll even get your toys, yeah?"
Azriel’s gaze swung to Y/n at the end of his sentence. She gave him a knowing smile.
"Can Nuts come too? Please daddy, mommy!"
"Fine, but no splashing." Y/n pointed a finger at the father-daughter duo, eyebrows raised.
Hazel had begun to whine, but even she knew not to argue when mommy was serious.
°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°
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joequiinn · 1 day ago
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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | epilogue
[chap seventeen] | [all chapters here]
Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, dysfunctional family dynamics, idiots-to-lovers, smut & nsfw themes
a/n: Well, we've finally made it, everyone, and I'm feeling emotional about it. This epilogue is just a lil something I thought up while I was considering what the future would hold for Eddie and ice princess, and I love it dearly.
wc: 3.2k
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Epilogue
September 1985
I want to be somewhere big and interesting. New York, L.A.… fuck, even Florida for all I care, I just want out of Hawkins, out of this town.” “Then I guess we’ll be those high school sweethearts that run off to L.A. together after graduation, huh?” “Oh, I’m sure.”
September 1987
Eddie should’ve been home by now. You’d memorized his work schedule within his first week of starting at VIP Records, so you knew his shift always ended at 6pm on Tuesdays - so where the hell was he? It was nearly 8:30, and you’d been getting more and more antsy as the minutes ticked by, worrying over what could possibly be delaying him like this.
So much had happened in the two years since you and Eddie began dating back in Hawkins - your world had changed so much that sometimes you felt like a completely different person. It started with some big things, like reintroducing Eddie to your parents and begging them to start fresh with him - though your father resolved to never show any warmth to your boyfriend, at least your mother was kinder.
You decide that you wouldn’t be going to college following graduation, instead wanting to take a year to work, which was yet another thing your father didn’t warm to. Somewhere amidst that decision and the subsequent string of arguments that followed, you found yourself spending more nights with Eddie and Wayne than you did with your own parents, until one day you realized you had informally moved into the Munson home. So, by the end of summer ‘86, you were out of your parents’ house and working full-time to save up for whatever may come next (and to pay rent, despite Wayne’s insistence that it was entirely unnecessary).
You weren’t sure who proposed the idea first, but you and Eddie had decided one day that you were going to move out to California. Initially, this was just some fantasy for the two of you, something to give you hope that you’d hightail it out of Hawkins one day, but over time that fantasy started to look more and more real until finally you agreed that maybe the idea wasn’t half bad at all.
So, you began to set aside more cash, began to look into neighborhoods and cities around Los Angeles, began to tell everyone that the two of you would be leaving town soon enough. No one really believed you at first - all your friends were in support of the idea, but they didn’t think it was particularly realistic. And when you mentioned it on one of the very rare occasions you saw your parents anymore, your father had the gall to laugh right in your face. That, of course, only bolstered your resolve to get the hell out of Indiana, and a lot of your freetime was slowly consumed with library visits to figure out how exactly to make this move happen.
You and Eddie finally made the leap a few months back, spending a couple weeks road tripping your way across the country, finally arriving in Los Angeles with only your most important earthly belongings and little else. Leaving Hawkins had been harder than you expected - leaving Wayne being the hardest - but you found California to be utterly refreshing, to fit you almost like a glove.
After living out of a hotel for a while, you found this cozy little apartment down in Long Beach, and you’d been content ever since; sure, it wasn’t perfect and the neighborhood wasn’t impressive, but it was your space, and that made it just right for you and Eddie. You both got jobs to hold you over for a while, you started visiting bars and venues, hell, you even found a stray cat that you quickly adopted without a second thought.
You’d been leaving the dollar theater after seeing a re-release of Labyrinth when the little calico found you - something about the film, and David Bowie, had totally mesmerized you when it came out the year prior, and Eddie was happy to take you to the special showing that night. So, when this cat approached you curiously and began weaving playfully between Eddie’s ankles, you were both immediately smitten. You named the cat Sir Didymus only to discover it was female a few weeks later, but it suited her rascally personality just fine, and thus her name stuck.
And now here you were, five months into your new California life and driving yourself crazy over where the hell Eddie was and why he was late to return home.
You called the record store and asked if maybe he was working late and forgot to mention it, but his coworker informed you that Eddie clocked out right on schedule; he mentioned that Eddie seemed eager to leave, but didn’t have any further information for you. On the one hand, it made you worry that something had happened, but on the other, you were annoyed that he had possibly made plans without telling you, as unlikely as that may be.
You’d tried to think of all the places in town that he could have gone to, but nothing seemed particularly viable - he wouldn’t have gone to a show without you, wouldn’t have gone to the store without you, wouldn’t have gone anywhere without you. Not unless he was keeping some kind of secret, but you couldn’t fathom what that might be.
Considering that today was your birthday, you had originally thought maybe he was making a special stop to get you flowers or a cake or a last minute gift; it was so like Eddie to do that, even after you insisted he didn’t need to get you anything at all. But once 7 o’clock hit, and then 7:30, and then 8pm, you began to doubt this original line of thought and assume the worst instead. 
Decidedly, a few minutes past 8, you’d thrown on one of Eddie’s sweaters and your shoes, and made the short trek down to the convenience store on the corner - the two of you were in there practically every day, so maybe one of the employees had seen him. The familiar night clerks greeted you, but when you asked about Eddie’s whereabouts, they didn’t have a clue, which made your worries grow even more. As if to put your mind at ease, they gave you a free 6-pack and said they’d call you if they saw him.
You returned back to the apartment to Sir Didymus crying for dinner, which made you realize you forgot to set out food for her earlier. Cursing to yourself, you filled her bowl and began to pace nervously, trying to consider where the hell Eddie could be. Did you forget about a show that he had previously mentioned? Or was he hit by a fucking truck? Maybe he got caught up chatting with a customer like he was one to do, or maybe he got fucking mugged. All possibilities were on the table, and you hated each and every one of them for causing you such worry and distress.
Prying open a window, you crawled onto the fire escape and lit a cigarette, hands shaky with anxiety as you pressed it to your lips. The night was relatively quiet for your neighborhood, which wasn’t saying much - there were always cars cruising up and down the road, music blasting from a nearby bar, and people constantly arguing in alleyways and backyards. But the noise was soothing in its way, reminding you that the world was constantly in motion and that Eddie was probably just caught up in it all.
Sir Didymus came to sit beside you, meowing as if she, too, was wondering where the hell Eddie was and why he wasn’t back home. You considered throwing on some clothes to go searching for him, but aside from the bar and the convenience store, there was nowhere in the area that he would be; moments like these made you wish you two hadn’t sold your car, because it would’ve been really convenient to have right about now.
Each time you heard tires screeching or saw headlights shining down the road, you craned your neck to get a better look, but it was never Eddie. You’d already nervously polished off two cigarettes and were lighting up a third; Sir Didymus had retired to sleeping on the pile of blankets that she commandeered within a few days of moving in.
As you were caught up in your anxious thoughts, you thought you’d heard metal music from somewhere nearby, muffled and far off, but it caused your ears to perk; when you realized that it was specifically a Dio song playing, you immediately shot to your feet, clambering back through the window while dropping your cigarette into the ashtray.
Without bothering to slip on shoes, you rushed out onto the breezeway connecting all the little apartments in your complex, gripping the rails as you tried to find the source of the music, which was obviously louder from this side of the building. The street in front of your complex was crowded with cars, so if the music was Eddie’s, he must have had to park way down the block; eventually, the music stopped, and you became more anxious by the second.
When finally you spotted Eddie walking up the sidewalk towards the gate, you all but rushed down the stairs to meet him halfway; Eddie smiled largely, clearly not able to make out your concern under the flickering lights illuminating the path. A glare grew in your eyes as you realized he looked just fine; in fact, it seemed he stopped by the store, if the grocery bag in his hand was anything to go on. He held up his arms to greet you, but before he could get a word out, you hissed while jabbing him in the chest.
“Where the hell have you been?” Your eyes were alight with panicked concern, and you didn’t realize until that moment that you were on the verge of relieved tears. You swallowed, determined to hold them back, “It’s almost 9 o’clock, Eddie, I was worried out of my fucking mind.”
Eddie’s face fell, arms drooping at his sides; he didn’t expect you to have gotten so worked up over him not returning on time. He thought he could surprise you, that he could do something nice for your birthday, but the utter panic in your expression told him otherwise. He dipped his head down towards yours, hoping that he could sooth all the stress that had bubbled up inside you.
“I should’ve called--”
“No shit.”
Eddie clenched his jaw a little, taking a breath - he wasn’t about to get upset with you, he wouldn’t let himself, “Let’s go upstairs, okay?”
The impulsive side of you wanted to argue with him right here and now, wanted to grill him about why he didn’t come home and what he was doing. The more patient part of you, however, held back, shaky breaths heaving in your chest as you nodded with a twisted expression. You spun around on your heels and marched up the stairs, crossing your arms with a scowl; Sir Didymus sat just outside your open door, curiously waiting for you both.
Following just a step behind you, Eddie sighed to himself as he took in your rigid posture, realizing that he should’ve thought this through - after all, since your move to Long Beach, the two of you were essentially attached at the hip, doing absolutely any and everything together. Of course you would worry when he didn’t come home, when he didn’t call or give you a heads up - but, again, he’d just been hoping to surprise you, and hadn’t considered that a few hours would get you as stressed as you were now.
Back in the apartment, you took large strides towards the open window and retrieved your cigarette from the ashtray. To calm yourself down, you began to pace, watching as Eddie closed the door behind him and waited there a moment as if to collect his thoughts; when he turned to face you, you quickly looked away and took a deep drag.
“God, Eddie, I’m trying not to be mad, okay, I was just so worried and I thought maybe there was something you were keeping from me or that maybe you were in an accident or even dead in a fucking ditch, and I know it’s ridiculous to get so worked up over only a few hours but--”
“You can be mad.” He interrupted the inevitable rambling that was about to commence.
You had always struggled to express emotions considering the household you grew up in, so these past two years with Eddie had been a learning experience for you, which led to your feelings often spilling over when they became overwhelming. You shot him a confused look, still struggling to this day with the idea that it was okay to feel something; you bit your tongue so that you wouldn’t keep babbling, trying to collect your thoughts.
“I should’ve told you where I was,” Eddie started, walking the short distance from the front door to the kitchen, gently dropping the grocery bag atop the counter, “but I wanted to surprise you.”
You laughed smally, feeling stupid for getting so worried over seemingly nothing. Shaking your head, you took a deep drag from the cigarette and turned to face the window, eyes unfocused as you looked around. You dropped your head, beginning to feel more and more stupid the more that you thought about it; you could hear Eddie coming up slowly behind you.
“Get out of your head,” He instructed gently, to which you laughed again, “You’re probably already kicking yourself, am I right? As if you did something wrong?”
You narrowed your eyes at his reflection in the window - fuck, he knew you too well. Slowly, you turned to face him again, but you kept your gaze on the floor. Eddie took another couple steps closer, waiting for you to eventually look up at him.
“I’m sorry, princess.” He said simply, and the pet name nearly caused you to smile fondly; even after all this time, it stuck, and you figured it wasn’t going anywhere. You could tell in his voice that Eddie saw you resisting to grin, “I should’ve called, I just got caught up in the surprise.”
The corner of your mouth pulled up, and you looked at Eddie carefully through your lashes; his smile was gentle and sweet, eyes far more adoring than you thought you really deserved. Swallowing your trepidation, you asked smally, “What surprise?”
Eddie’s smile grew larger as he cocked his head, “Your dual birthday-anniversary surprise.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, relief slowly relaxing your shoulders as you took a final small inhale of the cigarette before tossing it out the window, “My birthday is not our real anniversary and you know it.”
You smiled fondly at the memory of meeting each other at that picnic table behind the football field, at the crazy fake dating scheme you had that ultimately led you to where you were now. It felt like a lifetime again that senior year happened, and yet it still felt as if it was only yesterday.
“So maybe we have two anniversaries.” Eddie teased fondly, his eyes taking you in as if you were still a breath of fresh air to him. Under those soft, adoring eyes, you could feel your ears growing hot even still.
You sighed affectionately with a shake of your head, crossing your arms as a gust of wind came up through the window; being near the beach, the air was always unexpectedly cold at night. As you took in the always pleasant sight of Eddie, you realized he had a bandage just above his collarbone, which caused your brow to furrow with concern as you looked between it and his face.
“What happened?” You asked, closing the gap between you two so you could worry over whatever the hell was on his neck; you wondered if maybe he nicked himself shaving, but the bandage seemed far too large for that. Did he hurt himself at work?
As you reached for the bandage, Eddie laughed, capturing your wrists in his hands before you could touch his neck. You met his eyes with confusion, to which he simply shook his head.
“That’s the surprise.”
Your expression deadpanned, “You getting hurt is the surprise? Geez, babe, how romantic.”
Eddie laughed again, fondly rolling his eyes, “Not hurt in the way that you think.”
Clearly enjoying your confusion, Eddie released your grip and reached for the bandage, hissing a little as he tried to gently peel it off. Your jaw dropped in both surprise and confusion at the injury beneath it, not prepared for what it would be.
It was a tattoo, though that wasn’t the surprising part, considering that Eddie was slowly becoming covered in them. No, what took you aback was that the tattoo was quite clearly your lips, done in a shade almost identical to the lipstick color you’d been trying just the day before. You stared dumbly at it, as if you couldn’t quite compute it, as if you didn’t quite think it was real.
When you finally managed to draw your gaze back up to Eddie’s face, he was smiling from ear-to-ear, eyes twinkling with clear delight at your stunned expression. You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times as you tried to find your voice again, eyes rapidly looking back and forth from the tattoo to his face and back again.
“You… got a tattoo for me?” Your tone was one of disbelief; saying it out loud made the moment more real, and suddenly your throat felt tight as if you could cry.
Eddie nodded with pride, “You like it?”
You stared at the replica of your lips, recalling the evening prior when you’d been testing out make-up samples that you’d gotten from work. Eddie always enjoyed watching you apply make-up, and of course lipstick was his favorite part; when he commented on a shade that he seemed particularly fond of, you leaned over and planted a loud, silly kiss at the base of his neck.
Considering that you crawled out of bed hours before him to get to your shift at the make-up counter, you didn’t see whether or not he’d ever cleaned the lipstick off; evidently, he must have worn it like a badge of pride all day until he could finally get down to the tattoo parlor and make it permanent.
Shaking yourself from your reverie, you looked at Eddie lovingly, your eyes a little more wet; god, you’d gotten so much more emotional since he entered your life, it was nearly ridiculous. Or maybe you’d just become more vulnerable, far less skilled at holding back when it was just the two of you alone.
You cupped his cheeks gently, being extra careful not to go near the fresh tattoo, “God, I love you.”
The smile he gave you was dazzling, mesmerizing even, “I love you, princess.”
You drew his lips down to yours, resting your forehead gently to his; Eddie hummed contently, whispering a tender “happy birthday” against your lips before kissing you fiercely.
.
.
addt. a/n: I'll try to keep this short and sweet. Thank you to everyone who has read this fic and watched it grow, to those that have been commenting and messaging with each update, and to all the incredibly fic writers I've met through this story! And, of course, a HUGE THANK YOU to my dear @eddiernunson for being so invested - you've helped me developed so many ideas, and it's truly warmed my heart to see someone else love the ice princess as much as I do <3 If anyone would like to be tagged in any future outings these two may have in store, please let me know!
@3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @adelalaaa @adversary713 @avalon-wolf
@costellation-hunter @daisy-munson @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie
@dreamerjj @eddiernunson @feralgoblinbabe @frogtape @fromasgardandback
@fckyeahlames @graciehams @kellsck @kthomps914 @littlexdeaths
@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @maskofmirrors @mewchiili
@miaajaade @miss-celestial-being @mmmunson @moonisu @munsonssweets
@no-bueno-writer @nxrdamp @ollieolive @rach5ive @sapphire4082
@sav12321 @seatbacksandtraytables @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19
@teethvenom @tvserie-s-world @twihard28 @urlivingdeadgirl @v1per1ne
@wefracturedmotivation @welcometohellsock @whats-my-question @xxsxdghxstxx
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mochiwonz · 3 days ago
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✉ - won the boyfriend lottery ♡
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𓍯𓂃 content : insecure fem!reader x sweet bf!ni-ki , FLUFF , skinship (hugging , kissing , hand holding etc) , cursing , petnames (nini , baby , my love etc) , reader loves the scent of vanilla , lots of lovee <33
𓍯𓂃 word count : 2.1k
𓍯𓂃 note : i really reallyy think that as much as ni-ki is playful and likes to tease ,, he would definitely be the most caring, gentle, and understanding boyfriend ever :3 i hope that atleast some of you can find this fic relatable (i know i can) and i hope you enjoyy ♡♡
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You look in the mirror, you're wearing a fitted top and flared jeans. Complimenting the outfit, you're wearing bow earrings and pretty rings, and of course some cute makeup. You're supposed to be feeling all pretty and confident, right? But actually, you're feeling the exact opposite. It's like the longer you look at yourself, the uglier you get. Fuck, why is it so hard for you to feel pretty?
Giving up, you change back into your baggy basketball shorts and xl baggy tee.
You've always preferred baggier clothes because 1. they were more comfortable and 2. people don't pay attention to your body. One could say that you were quite insecure. You've never felt gorgeous, at most you've felt okay, average, or mediocre. You've always found something wrong with your face, your uneven eyes, the one bump that won't seem to go away, or your dark circles. You wonder how those pretty girls do it. How they just walk around flawlessly, wind blowing through their hair perfectly and their skin basically glowing. Gosh, you really hated how you looked and how insecure you were. You thought you could never be loved by someone, ever.
That was until your boyfriend, ni-ki appeared in your life, and you couldn't be more grateful. It was like the universe knew when you needed him the most and boom, there he was.
Of course, you were still very insecure, it was nothing compared to how you were one year ago. Ni-ki had always made it very clear that he understood you and that you were absolutely beautiful, even if you couldn't quite see it yet. Everytime you felt insecure, he could immediately tell and instantly went to comfort you. Everytime that you felt unsure about anything, he would reassure you. He made you feel understood and seen, something you hadn't felt since...well...ever. People would always tell you, "you don't need to be insecure" or "just stop being insecure" as if it was really that easy.
Fast forward to today, it was your guy's first anniversary as a couple. You still remember the day he confessed, you also remember being so confused. How did someone as beautiful and perfect as him end up being attracted to you?
To put it simply, you were the most gorgeous human being he had ever laid his eyes on. The first time that he laid his eyes on you in senior year of highschool, he knew that you were the one. He never expected such a beautiful girl to be so insecure, but that didn't matter to him. Everyone worried about something, your worry just happened to be your appearance and overall self. He understood. He truly did.
Anyways, you and ni-ki agreed on just going out to get his favorite gongcha milk tea and come back to your place to cuddle and watch an anime. You guys didn't care if it wasn't that "special", because all you really wanted to do was be in each other's presence.
You didn't wanted to be perceived as the hot boy's ugly girlfriend. That's why you were trying to dress up like the pretty girls you've seen on social media. We already know how it went, and now you're in baggy basketball shorts and a baggy tee.
What if ni-ki doesn't like it? What if he thinks you look bad today? Should you just put more effort and atleast try to look "good"?
"y/n, baby, you're so fucking gorgeous. you don't have to dress up and put on alot of makeup for me to find you beautiful. you could be bald and i'd still find you so gorgeous. and don't worry about what other people think of you, why does it matter at the end of the day?" you remember him telling you.
Right, ni-ki loves you for who you already are, and you try to remind yourself of that everyday. Of course, it's hard- but you're trying.
Snapping you out of your thoughts, you hear a knock on your door and a voice from outside. A very familiar voice, one that you could recognize literally anywhere.
"babyyy it's meee" ni-ki says from the other side of the door, and you already know he has the cutest smile on his face right now. He might be 6ft and all, but he's your giant baby.
"coming!!" you exclaim while excitedly running to the door, trying not to slip. Let's just say you've slipped a few times before.
Opening to the door, you're met with a smiling ni-ki. And wow- he looked so good. He was wearing an oversized black hoodie with some red designs on it and some baggy jeans. On top of that, he also had some silver rings and a silver chrome hearts necklace on and honestly, you were fighting the urge to lunge at him right now. God knows how you were controlling yourself.
He quickly brings you into his embrace, engulfing you in his warmth.
"my baby, i missed youuuu" he says in a sweet tone of voice, still hugging you. He was always so sweet to you, you truly think you won the boyfriend lottery.
You look up at him with hearts in your eyes. "i missed you too ki" you respond, talking in the same sweet tone of voice.
"here, wait- we should go inside, i still need to get ready" you tell him. He nods while intertwining your guy's hands and lets you drag him inside. To be honest, he didn't think you needed to get ready. You were always gorgeous in his eyes, no matter what you were doing.
You bring him into your bedroom, and he instantly smiles at the familiar scent of vanilla. Of course, he was very well aware of your love for vanilla. The way you had 4 different type of vanilla candles on your bedside table and so many different vanilla perfumes was so endearing to him. Quietly, he sits down on the edge of your bed and watches as you go to quickly grab some clothes. He quickly notices that these clothes aren't very you.
"baby, since when did you start wearing such fitted tops? i mean, don't get me wrong- i bet you'd look so good. but i'm just wondering" he asks curiously.
"oh," you say quietly "i just wanted to look pretty for you"
Ni-ki slightly frowns at your words. He wished you knew how effortlessly beautiful you already were. He gets up from your bed and walks towards you, wrapping his large arms around your waist and resting his chin on the top of your head. He makes eye contact with you through the mirror and pulls you closer to his chest.
"my love you always look so pretty. trust me. just wear whatever you're comfortable in, okay?" he tells you in a soft voice. He kisses the top of your head and smiles at you. God, he's so good at reassuring you. You're so in love with this man.
Feeling less pressured after hearing what he said, you put down the clothes and instead, put on one of the oversized hoodies that he lent you. Your favorite one actually, it smelt just like him. After putting it on, you have a comfortable smile on your face, visibly showing that you feel much better. Ni-ki notices the instant change in your energy, and he loves seeing you like this.
"my girl, you're so cuuteee i love you so much" he says while admiring you. He turns you around so that you're facing him and he just stares at you, admiring your beauty in all is glory. Getting shy, you bring your face down and bury it in his chest.
"nini i love you too my big baby" you tell him as you finally look back up at him and go on your tippy toes to give him a peck on the lips. You loved his pretty plump lips, he was really the most beautiful man ever. He giggles and pulls you closer to kiss your forehead. He loved you so so much.
"you're so beautiful" he says as he brushes your hair away from your face, "god i could stare at you forever my pretty girl"
You could already feel how hot and red your cheeks were, you always got like this because of him. He always said such nice things to you and always showered you in compliments, what did you do to deserve such an amazing boyfriend?
"i love you" you tell him while smiling "we should go to gongcha now though, they might be closing soon"
Ni-ki completely forgot about the boba, shit. Agreeing with you, he grabs your tote bag for you and opens the door for you.
"for you m'lady" he says playfully while bowing at you. You giggle and bow back at him, matching his playful energy. He finds you so adorable, and so he ruffles your hair and closes the door behind him.
He quickly intertwines your guy's hands and sways them back and forth. He was always so happy around you, your energy and presence just made him so happy.
Once you guys got back to your place, you decided that you wanted to have a skincare night. You might not be the best at makeup, but you loved your skincare. He, of course- found you so adorable. And of course, he let you do his skincare. He'd let you do whatever you wanted, honestly.
You quickly run to your bathroom and grab your skincare, face masks, and skincare headbands. Ni-ki looks at you, slightly confused, not understanding why you had so many things in your hands. He helps put the items onto your bed and sits down, waiting for you to do his skincare. You wipe his face down with micellar water and put the face mask on him. He just stares at your beautiful face, enjoying how close you are to him. Swiftly, he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you onto his lap.
Shit, your face was hot again. Ni-ki giggles and gives you a kiss on the cheek.
"kiiiii" you whine, "you got the face mask serum on my face"
"sorry baby, you're just too cute" he teases and gives you another kiss, but on the lips this time.
You smile fondly at him and start putting your own face mask on, asking ni-ki to help you. Of course, he helps you and notices how big his hands are compared to your face. He loves it. You were so tiny compared to him.
Once it was on, you take out your phone to take a selfie. You both loved taking pics together, so that you could look back and laugh at them. After taking the picture with him, you pull out your wired earphones and give him one of them. Another thing you guys loved to do together was listen to music. You both enjoyed music, although you didn't dance like him- you still loved it just as much.
Getting comfortable, you both get under the comforter and he wraps his arms around your waist, your back facing his chest. He rests his head in the crook of your neck and pulls you closer to him. (if that was even possible) He loves how you smell, he could really smell your vanilla shampoo and conditioner now and he almost melts. He feels so relaxed, and you do too. You could hear ni-ki's breathing because he was right next to your ear, and you loved being so close to him. By the way he was breathing, you could tell he was asleep.
Slowly, you shuffle your body around so that you're facing him now, chest to chest. You gently take off the face mask and pat the serum into his skin, making sure you doesn't wake him up. You observe his beautiful features, his pretty eyelashes, his pouty lips, and your favorite- his pretty moles. You loved his moles, especially the one on his chin. He always told you how beautiful you were, and you realized you didn't tell him enough about how absolutely handsome he was, inside and out.
You promised yourself that from now on, you would tell him at least 100 times every. single. day.
You brush your fingers through his pretty hair and lovingly trace his features with your smaller hands. Without realizing, your eyes start to get glassy. Ni-ki was so beautiful on the outside, but also so beautiful on the inside. He always made sure you were doing okay mentaly and reminded you of how beautiful of a person you were.
After staring at him for (at least) 5 whole minutes, you take off your own skincare mask and decide to just call it a night. You really didn't want to get out of this comfortable position.
Ni-ki is so special to you, and you love him so fucking much. He's had such a positive effect on your self esteem and mental health and you're forever grateful. He was your soulmate, you were very sure of that. Nobody compared to him, and nobody was ever going to compare to him.
Honestly, you won the boyfriend lottery.
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this is the longest fic i've ever wrote and surprisingly, i don't feel too bad about it! pls reblog if you enjoyed <33 my other works are here :D
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girlyrafe · 2 days ago
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looks like sugar 。𖦹°‧
a/n: writing someone this naive and clueless is lowkey painful but so the person Rafe would want! please interact
⌗rafe drug use
summary:: naive!reader goes to a hang out at toppers with some friends but rafes doing something, something white and twinkling.
It wasn’t your scene, not at all, and you honestly wanted to go home and just hide under the blankets and giggle ridiculously with Rafe, but as soon as you saw the bottle of beer touch his lips, you couldn’t say anything.
 
Toppers Place was nice, really nice, of course.
 
It was pretty chill for a kook party, with you standing with some girls you didn’t really know—you were more interested in stealing glances at Rafe, then smiling and looking at your feet.
 
I mean, who wouldn’t he’s wearing those jeans that were a little too big on him and a white shirt—totally simple but not too you, and his rings that caught your eyes, mhm, they feel nice when he...
 
you shake your head.
 
After sipping on a beer you weren’t totally into, you decide to make your way over to Rafe and his friends, in which you lean over the back of the couch just staring at him as he was facing away from you, almost lost in thought just at the site of him.
 
They were a little rowdy, which kind of made you a little scared.
 
You weren’t paying attention at all.
 
Topper was rambling about something but nodded his head towards behind Rafe, which made him turn around to see you.
 
You instantly grinned. “Hey sugar, what’s wrong, hm?” God, he spoke so softly your previous apprehensions were gone—it made you want to fold. You shake your head and try to look past him.
 
He took your hand and pulled you round to his side, pulling you next to him with your legs hanging over one of his You lean up to his ear and whisper, “What are you guys doing, angel?”
All you could see sprawled across the table was some beers, money, and something white.
 
Rafe presses a kiss to your cheek and nibbles on your jaw lightly with a smile, which gave you immense butterflies. “Nothin' sugar, it’s just something to keep me going, y’know?”
 
Well, you didn’t know, “Um, can I try—I’ve had enough of those girls." You whisper to him and wrap an arm around his neck as one of his snakes around your waist, tracing idle patterns on your stomach and thighs.
 
Rafe had to hold back from laughing. “Mhmm, as much as I’d love to see what this makes you do, there’s no way sugar—“ You just didn’t get it. You glance back down the powder, scrunching your nose up. “What is it? —looks like sugar, or that sour stuff on those lollipops I like, hm?” Rafe was sure you were joking by now, but he sees that twinkle in your eyes, and the way you stare at him, which tells him otherwise.
 
“You know what I want to do, sugar?— I want to take you home, so just sit there and look pretty while I finish up.” He then presses a kiss to your cheek, which means you couldn’t help but smile and nod, and he did exactly that. Ten minutes later, you were getting carried out of their giggling and legs swinging—he’s irresistible.
 
who knows..
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d0rothydraws · 8 hours ago
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Supportive sugar daddy sylus.
You were exhausted.
You picked up a new position at work. Figuring it would be just a little different you weren't worried. But little did you know, it was basically a whole new job. New people, new tasks, new schedule. Everything was different. And you were drained.
Sylus was supportive as always. He made his chef cook you meals so you could come home to a hot fresh meal every night. Everything to your clothes laid out on the freshly changed bed so you could change after you showered together.
Which he insisted on.
With the new schedule you seen him less, had less time to text. It honestly broke your heart. And though you knew that it was a better position, better pay, one thing rang in your mind, a conversation you had months prior to now.
"Sweetie, you know you can quit, right?" His voice rang in your head as if he was saying it right in front of you. As fresh as the day he said it. "You would have all the time for any hobby you'd want to pursue. Why not learn to make those plushies you like so much?"
His words rang in your ears. Your body stopped moving as you felt a surge of hope. But what would that mean for how people see you? For your reputation. Your mind started to swim with thoughts of urgency and self doubt.
Not noticing Sylus' moving closer he cupped your face in his large hands, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"I will take care of you, sweetie. Don't waste your time thinking of what others think. And if you end up wanting to go back to work, then that's fine too." He said kissing your forehead. "But just say the word and I will take care of anything you need."
You didn't want to jump into a rash decision but eventually you did agree. With all the extra time on your hands you were able to take up hobbies that you could never even dream of doing before. You never had to worry about the price of the materials either. Sylus would take you to the store and as you dumped the things you needed into the cart, he would add even more saying
"It might come in handy."
You had a whole room in his house dedicated to your supplies. You needed it with how much he bought. And if you lost interest and wanted to move on he didn't say anything. The supplies donated to a charity or someone who needs them.
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inej-ruination-ghafa · 2 days ago
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PICK AND CHOOSE - l.c
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Warnings: skin picking
Summary: the one where Luke and you finally discuss whatever is going on in the relationship
Wordcount: 2.4k
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You sat down on his bed, the Hermes cabin empty because they were working on a prank against the Athena cabin with the Hephaestus boys.
You had called for this conversation with Luke, both of you putting it off because what was there really to say. This was it now and your heart was speeding up at a record time and you were worried it was going to beat so fast it would fly out of your chest.
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah, just-” you looked down at your hands, fingers picking at the skin by your fingernails, “-I dunno, just feeling a little insecure,”
You could feel the shame wash over you at the words because there is no need whatsoever for you to feel that way.
well there is.
At least that’s what you tell yourself as you continue to stare at your skin, hoping that the insecurity will go away with every tug of the hangnails at your fingers.
Maybe it was the fact that he had been paying you no attention since that night or maybe it was the way that you couldn’t stand the thought of other girls looking at him the way that they do, eyes roaming over his body. God, you should be the only one allowed to look at him like that.
You didn't know how long you had been silent for before he reached down and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Insecure?”
You scoffed at his words. This was not how this should go. You were supposed to be okay with casual, that’s what the two of you had discussed.
Insecure. The word made you feel sick to your stomach because it was such a petty feeling, like envy and jealousy. It came out of nowhere and sometimes just surprised you but you had been feeling it all your life.
It had been a rough day anyway but the way he said the words made it even worse. It felt like he was taunting you.
You pulled your hand away and placed it back in your lap, only just noticing the skin bleeding at your fingernails.
“It’s silly, I know-“ you started to say and he cut you off.
“It’s not silly,” he reassured, “Everyone gets insecure,”
You shook your head, “This-” you gestured between the two of you, “-us,” just saying the word made your face heat with embarrassment because what us was there.
It felt wrong, like two little kids playing dress up at having feelings. Luke was the first guy you had ever thought about in this way and here you were making a fool of yourself in front of him.
“I dont mean to be-” the words couldnt come. This was one of those emotions that you could never quite phrase and no matter what word you used, it always came out wrong, “-needy?”
Luke could sense your uncertainty about it all and he just watched you intently, those eyes that you could stare in for hours now only gave you one look. Pity.
You had to fight back the words that were trying to claw out of your throat. You wanted to yell and scream and tell him how pathetic that look made you feel, like you were some rescue puppy he had found on the streets and taught new tricks. He was your first: first kiss, first makeout, first…
Images flashed in your mind of him laying in your empty cabin, shirtless, you on top of him, hands pressed against his chest. Then you were lying there next to him in his bed, head laying against his chest as he explained the book he was reading to you. Those moments felt so far away as you looked into his eyes.
“You’re not being needy,”
this time you did scoff, “You know that thing babies get when they play peek-a-boo? Object permanence? I feel like I have that with people. Like if you’re not in the room then you must hate me and this paranoia has followed me round my whole life. Gods, sometimes, dont you just think that everyone hates you and that they’re faking being friends with you?”
The words stumbled off of your tongue before you could stop them and by then you had blurted it all out, chest heaving at the end as you realised how vulnerable you had just been in front of him.
You didn’t even look up from your hands as you waited to hear his response. He was going to hate this and you knew it.
Luke was so calm all the time, holding his composure about this. He barely even mentioned whatever was going on between you when you were with the other campers. It was like you didn’t even exist.
You couldn’t quite but your finger on how long you had been sitting on that feeling but maybe it had been there since the moment you first kissed in your cabin after the bonfire, his lips tasting like the moonshine the Dionysus kids brewed and his hand pressed firmly against your back.
You finally looked up at him, eyes meeting yours. When you would stand up, there was a significant height difference but here, sitting down, you were on even playing ground.
“We can stop,”
those words made your heart sink, stomach twisting into knots at the idea. How could you go back to the way things were before when he had been looking at you like that? When you knew what he sounded like in bed, breathy words whispered into your ear?
“That’s not why I came here,” you stated, eyebrows furrowed as you tried to put into words the way you felt.
There were no words and there never would be. How could you ever express all of the love and care that you have for him without seeming obsessed after two makeout sessions. This was supposed to be casual.
You had promised him no feelings from either of you and yet here you were less than two weeks later, heart so full to the brim with him that any pain he felt, you felt tenfold.
“Then why did you?” He asked so nonchalantly and you could feel the tears burning at the back of your eyes.
Shaking your head, you looked back at your blood stained fingernails, “I shouldn’t have,”
His eyes trailed down to your hands. You both shared the same bad habit, biting at your fingernails. His were painful, bitten to the halfway point and scared yet yours were healed, nice paint always draped on top to hide the peeling of your skin - your next victim.
Luke grabbed onto your hands to stop you from the compulsion and you felt forced to look into his eyes, “I don’t want to stop either,”
They were the words that you wanted to feel so why did they make your heart sink even lower into your chest?
“I-” the words were caught in your throat. Keep your composure. Thats what you kept repeating to yourself as you felt the tears brimming on your waterline. Crying in front of him was not on the agenda today.
Casual. Most boys dream and most girls nightmare. You should be okay with all that you could get from him, a kiss here and there but maybe that was making these feelings worse.
Maybe it was the way that he wouldn’t act like he wanted you on some nights, barely even acknowledging that you are there, his conversation focused on some other camper as you stood by the sidelines waiting like an idiot.
Maybe it was the way he talked to other girls, their eyes trailing over his shoulders and arms like he was on the market, hand on his shoulder as they laughed at one of his shitty jokes.
Maybe it was the way that you wanted him to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you close, to kiss you when the other head of cabins were looking, to want to make out with you when he was sober as well as drunk.
“I like you,” you blurted the words out.
He chuckled, “I like you too, is that not obvious,”
You shook your head with disdain at his comment. This was not time for silly jokes.
“No. I really like you and I dont want you to kiss other girls,”
his brow furrowed and he shook his head quickly, “Who said I want to kiss other girls?” He questioned.
You shrugged, a sheepishness coming over you at your admissions, “Beckendorf,” you stated, “He said he wanted to wingman you,”
”Did I say I wanted Beckendorf to wingman me?”
“No, but-“ you furrowed your brow and he just looked at your confusion.
“I like you a lot,” he promised but the words seemed to melt off of your skin like they meant nothing, “I do not want other girls, it’s just-“
You cut him off before he could finish his sentence. “You want to be single but have me on the side, just in case you get bored?”
He could hear the spitefulness in your words, the anger in your tone and he wondered how long this had been building up in your chest for, how long you had been wanting to say this to him.
“That is not what you are to me,” he reassured but the words didn’t help.
Scoffing, you pulled your hands away, “Then why don’t you want to kiss me? Why do I have to make the effort all the time?”
He tilted his head to the side and looked at you, watching as a tear slipped over your waterline. You cursed yourself as he leaned forward and wiped the tear away with the pad of his finger. He hated to see you like this, so much self loathing inside of you.
“I’m nervous,”
Now that was a ridiculous statement, “You? Nervous,” you shook your head at the woods because there was no way that they could ever be true, “You are like the coolest person I know, why would you get nervous?”
You watched as a blush crept up to his cheeks, “Because you’re the coolest person I know,”
your eyes widened at his admission and you wondered if he meant it.
“I worry that we are going to screw up our friendship by doing this, that I am no going to be a good boyfriend for you. I cannot lose you,” he admitted and you just sat there for a moment, staring at him.
“I think i just did, screw it up I mean,”
He shook his head, “You? Never,” he promised, hand coming down to rest on your knee which you only just noticed was bouncing up and down in your nervous state, “I care about you so much,”
”Then show it,”
“The other campers-” he started to say and you sighed. Great. Another excuse why you were not going to be working out.
“Ignore them, let’s be us,” you were practically begging at this point because you knew he could call this arrangement off any second and you would be left drowning in all the affection you never got to show him.
“I don’t want them to know, they will get involved and ruin this,” he was right and you hated that.
“I want you to want me,” the words tumbled from your mouth easier than you expected them to, “I want to be at the bonfires and you dance with me and talk to me and it sounds so needy,”
“It’s not needy,”
”It is!” You exclaimed.
The room went silent and you were left staring at one another, listening to the creeking of the walls in the wind and the rustling of the grass, “It is,” you repeated, a little bit quieter.
”I can’t do casual,”
He nodded, understanding the complexity of it all, “I can’t do a relationship,”
A sob was caught in your throat as you heard those words, they were the last thing that you wanted to hear and he knew that, watching as your face contort at his statement, lip trembling as you tried to stop the tears from overflowing.
“Okay,”
He tilted his head to the side, “Okay?”
You just shrugged because what was there left to do. There was no way that you were going to be able to convince him that you were worth it, that you were worthy of being his girlfriend if he didn’t want to be convinced.
“You’re an idiot,” he stated and you turned to look at him with a face that read shock horror.
“Excuse me?”
He could see all the hurt and anger bubbling up inside of you, brows pulling together and nose scrunching up just like it always did before a fight. He knew you too well.
“I would try. For you,” he stated and there it was again, the flip of emotion on your face to one of confusion, your lip pulling up in confusion, brows still furrowed but softening to complexity, “I want you in my life and more than a friend,”
You shook your head because this was all so wrong. You stood up, head spinning. This was not the way that this was supposed to go. This was going to be you breaking this thing off with him and yet here you were potentially entering into a relationship.
He followed after you before you could reach the cabin door, hand sneaking around your waist to pull you closer to him, “Say yes,”
“Luke,” a hand came out, balancing against his chest.
“Say yes,” he repeated, nose nuzzling against your throat. You knew this was wrong but Gods, it felt so right.
“Luke,”
He hummed in response, looking up at you with those big brown eyes that you had come to love over the years.
”Say yes,” he hoped one more time would do the trick.
You nodded your head, leaning down to feel his breath against your lips, “Okay,” you nudged your nose against his, “Okay,”
“Be my girlfriend?” The words seemed so natural on his tongue and you couldn’t fight the warm feeling in your chest at being addressed in that way.
You kissed him then and there. There still were not enough words to explain this feeling but as you kissed against the door in the Hermes cabin, you knew you were going to regret this moment in the long run.
But right now, there was no regret.
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A/N sorry for the lack of posts, I've been at uni for a while but I'm feeling the inspiration. This is good for you guys and bad for me because this is the most autobiographical fanfic I've written in a while so enjoy as my love life plummets to hell
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warblogs17282 · 6 hours ago
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Looks like it's time for me to discuss this piece of merch.
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I instantly notice two things, the first being that Stolas genuinely looks terrified in the first picture, with the pupils that appear when Stolas is extremely stressed as well. They're not looking at Stella, however, they're looking away from her, at something else, or someone else.
The second thing being that Stella now appears to be laughing while looking directly as Stolas, who is now no longer wearing his crown. Stella and Octavia are still wearing their crowns, which I feel potentially implies that the second picture was taken after Stolas has lost his title of Prince. This is probably overthinking but I'd also like for you to pay attention to the fact that the arrows point to Stolas in both pictures, his face in the first picture, and his crownless head in the second picture.
Plus, the grimoire is now in shot for some reason, which considering Andrealphus' comment of 'Because, my dear sister, you've already produced an heir; when he dies, his duties, his possessions, his legions, it'll all pass to.... Via.', sure Andrealphus is talking about specifically if Stolas dies, but I feel like this would also be true if Stolas loses his title of Prince. His duties will be one of the things that will be passed to Octavia if that happens, which could explain specifically why the grimoire is present in the second picture.
All of this would also tie in perfectly with Stella's line of 'I'm going to take everything! Everything you own!', with one of those things being Stolas' title of Prince.
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But getting back to the first thing I noticed, I think I can explain the specifics of why Stolas is so terrified in it.
A few lines from Paimon stick out to me, those being these ones:
"It is finally your day of becoming a true part of the Goetia family."
"Also, son, you are destined to sire a precautionary addition to the Goetia family."
"Would that distract you enough from your non-negotiable future marriage?"
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The first thing Paimon does is basically hold Stolas at metaphorical gunpoint to sire (give birth to) a precautionary addition to the Goetia family. You may be asking, but Stolas did sire Octavia, why does he look so terrified in the first picture if it's not Stella he's looking at?
The answer is simple, it's because that metaphorical gunpoint I mentioned earlier extended beyond just siring Octavia, it likely went on until Octavia reached maturity/was close to reaching maturity. (aka, the age of 18.) Considering Octavia was just a very young child in the first picture, it tells us that the metaphorical gunpoint was still a factor for Stolas, hence explaining why Stolas looks so scared in it.
My proof for this is a few comments made in s2 e1. Those being:
"What do you think the rest of the Goetia family will think?"
"And the only thing the Goetia family wanted from our marriage is already 17, so, it's over, I'm DONE!"
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The common link between all the lines I have showed you is the Goetia family, Stella uses the family to threaten Stolas, meaning that she is naturally aware of this metaphorical gunpoint as well, hence why she uses it in an attempt to stop Stolas from getting the divorce.
But then Stolas fires back, telling us that the only thing the Goetia family wanted is already 17, which most likely tells us two things.
The first being that the metaphorical gunpoint Stolas was under did extend past just siring Octavia, it also reached to raising Octavia until she was mature enough/close to mature enough, which was likely the age of 18, but at this point Octavia to close enough to age.
The second being that the same metaphorical gunpoint Paimon, and by extension, the Goetia family put Stolas under is no longer a worry because Octavia is now 17, close enough to reaching maturity for the Goetia family, which again, I believe is 18.
Considering all of this, I believe that this adequately explains specifically why Stolas looks so terrified in the first picture, and the fact he appears to be terrified of someone other than Stella in that picture as well.
Which begs the question, just what or who is Stolas looking at in that picture?
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It's most likely Paimon, although, considering all the comments about the Goetia family that have been made throughout the show, in theory, it could be anyone in the Goetia family who reports to Paimon, or anyone with equal or higher class compared to Stolas.
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strangererotica · 1 day ago
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EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI
Jim Hopper x Reader | angsty smut | includes infidelity, Reader is married to a different public servant of Hawkins (can you guess who, @umnitsa ? 😉) Hopper is married as well, death of Hopper’s daughter mentioned, Hopper is a real ass here, unprotected p in v sex, vaginal fingering, ANGST ANGST ANGST…
@mrshopper84 @travelingtwentysomething @beefrobeefcal @braincell-pingpong @skye-44 @midwest-princess @riotrhythm
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“This isn’t right.”
At first, Hopper didn’t hear you speak. He was too distracted by the taste of your soft skin on his tongue, his mouth pressed to your neck in an open kiss. When your words did register in his mind, he disregarded them. Who gave a fuck whether what the two of you were doing was right or wrong? Hadn’t you both earned some happiness? You, with a husband too absorbed in his work to pay you any attention, and Hopper, whose wife had grown so cold and distant after the death of their daughter that she barely let him touch her anymore?
“This isn’t right, Hopper,” you repeated, insistent this time. His grip on your hips tightened, almost hurting. You were sitting on his lap in his office, after hours at the station. In the darkness, just the two of you, just how you liked it. How you needed it to be, to avoid a scandal that would turn the small town of Hawkins upside down...
You became frustrated at Hopper’s disregard for your words, pulling back from him. His jaw tightened, his lips a thin, hard line. “And what makes you think I fuckin’ care if it’s right or wrong?” he asked, his voice husky and impatient. “I want you.” Hopper bounced his knee under you, making you gasp as your cunt settled against the thick outline of his cock. Hopper exhaled as you shifted on top of the erection painfully straining against his uniform. “I want you,” he reiterated, speaking through grit teeth. “I want you and that asshole you’re married to doesn’t.” Hopper’s words stung already, but they were about to get worse.
“That new secretary he just hired? Remember her?” You braced yourself for what you already knew was coming. “He’s fucking her, did y’know that?” Hopper didn’t waste time softening the blow of his words with pretty euphemisms. Why should he? You’d come this far, let him touch you already. You were straddling Hopper’s lap for fucks sake. You wanted this as much as he did, and he’d be damned if he let you pretend to have grown a conscience between the time you straddled his lap and now…
Hopper knew you were a smart woman. You must have known your husband was having an affair, that he’d been unfaithful for as long as the two of you had been married. “Mrs. Kline,” Hopper uttered your name through a cruel smirk. He reached for the strand of hair spilling down your shoulder, gently tucking it behind your ear. You shivered as Hopper’s thumb grazed your earlobe, his skin warm. “Don’t let this time we have go to waste,” Hopper told you. “We both know things aren’t going to change anytime soon, for either one of us.”
You shifted a little on top of his thighs, Hopper’s cock pulsing against your cunt in response. You’d already soaked through your panties, a wet patch leaking through onto Hopper’s pants. He’d have to wash those himself, later. Couldn’t risk his wife finding them in the laundry and asking questions. But a bit of deception was a small price to pay if it meant finally getting inside you.
“Larry is-,” you began, but Hopper bucked you on his knee again, silencing you.
“Mm-mm,” he chastised, shaking his head. “Don’t say the bastard’s name. Not when you’re with me.”
Hopper swallowed any words you may have had left in a kiss. His tongue licked back the apprehension sitting on the edge of yours, the things you knew you should say, but didn’t want to. Mainly, the word “no.” You didn’t want to tell Hopper no.
His large hands held you down against his lap, thumbs finding purchase in the space where your hips and thighs met. Being the mayor’s wife, you’d interacted with the Chief of Police several times over the years. But never like this. The time you’d spent together had been social, limited to local events. Always public, always within the gaze of the people of Hawkins. The eyes of the public on you had forced both you and Hopper to keep your desire for one another a secret. But now, years later, you’d both grown weary of pretending, of keeping things professional. His hand slipped between your legs, gliding under the waist of your panties. You gasped as Hopper inserted two of his thick, calloused fingers inside you without warning. A cocky little grin pulled at his lips. “Just warming you up, sweetheart,” he drawled confidently, adding “Christ you’re fuckin’ tight…Might send you back to Lare a little broken, y’know…?”
You moaned into Hopper’s chest as he fingered you, humping against his palm. No matter how fucking good his fingers felt inside you, he was still Jim Hopper. The same man who’d developed a reputation for drinking and drug use while on the job. The same man whose wife was presumably sleeping soundly right now, at the home she shared with Hopper, having bought the lie he’d sold her about needing to stay late at the station for ‘work.’ He was working, but not the way he’d implied. Hopper’s fingers working inside you were an altogether different kind of work, the way he manipulated your cunt yet another form of manipulation he was very skilled at, in addition to lying to his wife.
“You’re so close,” Hopper gloated at your ear in a low, smug voice. The fact that he was getting you off with nothing but his fingers was stroking Hopper’s ego, just like his fingers were stroking your insides. He held a misplaced sense of pride in being able to do for you what your husband couldn’t, or wouldn’t, do. It was something Hopper could accomplish, something he could succeed at, in contrast with his crumbling marriage. Maybe instead of thrusting his fingers up another woman’s cunt, he should have been at home with his wife, working on repairing his marriage. But Hopper wasn’t interested in what he should be doing. All he wanted to do, was you.
The sound of Hopper’s chair creaked loudly in the small office at the impact of you grinding on his lap. He smacked your ass with the hand that wasn’t between your legs, then carefully removed the one that was. You whimpered at being suddenly empty, pouting up at Hopper in frustration. He didn’t deny you for long, quickly working his belt and pants undone, his cock springing free and smacking thick and wet against your cunt with an audible slap. Hopper lifted you by your hips, guiding you onto his plump, leaking tip and letting you sink onto him at your own pace.
Hungry, greedy, your cunt swallowed Hopper with minimal difficulty. You managed to take him whole, your clit pressed against the coarse dark hair above Hopper’s cock. He growled behind grit teeth, as the sensation of being consumed by you overtook him. It had been years since Hopper had been with a woman besides his wife. The grip of fresh pussy moving up and down his shaft caused Hopper’s brain to temporarily glaze over. He was lurched back into awareness by the harsh ring of the telephone sitting on his desk.
“Ignore it,” Hopper panted, speaking to himself as much as you. A moment later, the phone ceased ringing. When the shrill sound began again less than a minute later, Hopper pulled his lips from your throat and cursed. He knew there was only one person who would be trying to reach him here at this time of night. Hopper reached for the phone, gently lifting it from the receiver. He brought his index finger against his lips, instructing you to remain quiet. Forcing his voice as steady as possible, considering you were grinding up and down on his cock, Hopper spoke: “Diane?” You nuzzled your face into Hopper’s neck, muffling your own sounds into his shirt. A woman’s voice on the other end of the line spoke, but you couldn’t make out the words. You didn’t want to. All you wanted was to keep riding Hopper, moving closer and closer to your peak.
“I can’t-I uh-,” Hopper stammered, swallowing. You could feel the heat radiating from his chest, the sweat blooming beneath the hair peeking out from his shirt collar. “I’m gonna be a little longer, sweetheart,” Hopper managed, clearing his throat. He closed his eyes in an attempt to remove the image of your breasts bouncing in front of him with every descent you made on his cock. His wife’s voice chattered away on the other end of the line. “Thirty minutes,” Hopper said, and inwardly, you grimaced. You wanted all night with him, but under the circumstances, both your options and Hopper’s were limited.
“Yeah,” Hopper grunted, followed by a rushed “love you too,” before he quickly replaced the phone on top of the receiver. You paused, meeting his eyes in the dim light of his office. “Is that true?” you asked tentatively, your voice breathless. Hopper’s hands were all over you again, as if the phone call had never happened. His expression conveyed annoyance as he sorted out what you were asking him, his response a confused “what?”
“She said I love you,” you explained. “Your wife. And you said it back.” Hopper’s eyebrows lifted incredulously. “Yeah,” he said. “What’s your point?”
“Did you mean it?” you asked, despising how pitiful and small you sounded in this moment. Hopper exhaled, the cruel smirk returning to his lips. “How is that any of your fucking business?” he asked through a humorless chuckle. His smile evaporated as a darker look replaced it. “Now you listen to me, because here’s how this is gonna work-.” His hands slid down your thighs, squeezing a little too hard. “-You’re gonna keep these legs spread till I come in between them and then we’re gonna part ways like this never fuckin’ happened, understand?” You nodded, forcing the tears behind your eyes not to fall. You wouldn’t give Hopper the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt you anymore than he already had.
Hopper nodded, satisfied with your compliance. “Good girl,” he said, without any sentiment behind his words. Hopper’s arms crushed you against him as he bucked up into you. His shoulders tensed, the muscles in his stomach tightening. Hopper’s grunts of exertion grew sharper, till his body stilled tight against yours, his cum spilling inside you. With his forehead pressed to your shoulder, Hopper panted hot and labored against your chest.
The absence of sound in the office, apart from Hopper’s breath, was far from quiet. A sick tension hung in the air, his cold words repeating back in your mind on a loop. After a moment, Hopper patted your ass and instructed you to “get up.” He held onto the base of his cock as you slid off it, a thick trail of semen gushing out and landing on his thigh. Hopper cursed, almost as if implying the mess was your fault. He turned his back to you, lighting a cigarette. Feeling unsatisfied and worse, ashamed, your voice was trembling when you quietly asked, “should I…go?”
Hopper’s shoulders moved in small chuckle, and he turned to face you. His cock was still hanging out, as if he was in no hurry to put it away. You, by contrast, had already begun to dress. Hopper sucked a long drag out of his cigarette, exhaling as he informed you flatly, “yeah, we’re done here.” He reached for his coat and made his way to the door. Even though you were fully dressed by now, you felt more exposed than ever. He waved his hand ahead of him, ushering you out the front door of the station. “See yourself out,” Hopper directed. The hurt inside you was beginning to boil over into rage. You’d never felt more used in your life, even after being humiliated by your husband’s affairs for years. “Fuck you, Jim,” you spat at him, your saliva landing on his cheek. Hopper’s eyebrows lifted in a look of amusement. “Well that already happened,” he taunted.
The cold night air was oddly welcoming as you burst through the station door and out into the parking lot. You found your vehicle and quickly got inside, your hands squeezing the steering wheel till your fingers cracked. You left the station and made your way home to your husband, while another man’s cum slowly leaked out of you onto the driver’s seat the whole way home.
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inkedwingss · 23 hours ago
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"You cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live."
We truly need to kill this cultural-only Christianity, this most recent version of a hippie cool Jesus who is soft and nice all the time, the ''in the system, in the world and brainwashed my media'' version of faith.
This is a war. We have lived in violence. We know blood. God knows blood. Death is sin's payment. God hates sin for a reason.
When I met God, I didn't feel like I was happy and everything was nice. I felt like I was truly dying. Everything around me was rotting. Everything around me was rotting. Death was looking me in the face every day. And I could not be a victim anymore; not with the clarity and understanding of the consequences of my own actions and choices popping into my face every five minutes. Oh, accountability! Oh, the final exhaustion. You just want to give up. You can't deal with the pain anymore. You have nowhere to run!
One day, the check arrives, but you can't pay the bill. You're broken.
There was this tiny light at the end of the tunnel, but the tunnel itself was trying to swallow me alive every step of the way. Redemption? Sweet, pink and yellow clouds, and light as a feather. Forgiveness? Pure grace and honey on my lips. But the actual glory of God coming down into the room? Terrifying. Amazing. Absurd.
Have you ever been in a room when the Spirit fills every inch of it with this vibrating, real presence? It's heavy. You can't stand up straight. The weight makes you bow and you will gladly bury your nose in the ground and if you could dig a hole in that moment you would. It's more real than reality itself. Glorious. Ugly cry. Burning ache in your chest, like cauterizing a wound, living fire. Love. Despair. A scream.
In that moment you know. You just know. Nothing can change that. Nothing that the world could ever offer you... Because you saw the one that sees you. He touches you and everything is new. You can't go back. It's not a thing of this world. It's not rational, although you can reach God by reason (once you start asking the questions, you will end up meeting your Creator). Logic can't take care of this. I'm with Kierkegaard: faith is something else.
That's the fear of God. It's not fear as we think of it. It's actually יראה, pronounced yir-ah, and translated into ''awe'', deep respect, fear (yes) reverence, worship, and is strongly connected to ''trembling''. (That's why Kierkegaard chose the title ''fear and trembling'', I guess).
Let's just play with translation in some verses bc I like it:
The AWE of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom: and the knowledge of the Holy One is understanding.
AWE the LORD, you, his holy people, for those who fear him lack nothing.
To AWE the Lord is to hate evil; I hate pride and arrogance, evil behaviour and perverse speech.
The AWE of the Lord leads to life; then one rests content, untouched by trouble.
To me, awe is what happens to ''fear'' when you believe. For ''the perfect love casts out fear'', and here fear comes from the Greek, Φόβος (Phobos), meaning fear, fright, danger (phobia!). Phobos is the Greek god who is the personification of fear. The scripture never contradicts itself. The perfect love is the blood on the cross. The passion. The sacrifice. The resurrection. The eternal hope. The faith that wins all limitations of the human experience.
The reason this world is so tasteless at times is that we were literally built for the ultimate state of awe only God can provoke. His kingdom is our home.
JESUS THE SEVEN-HORNED SEVEN-EYED LAMB OF GOD
JESUS THE ALL-CONSUMING FIRE DEVOURING EVERYTHING THAT COMES NEAR HIM
JESUS A LITTLE SKINNY UNASSUMING HUMAN WHOM ALL THE DEMONS FLEW AWAY IN TERROR FROM
WHOM STORMS AND NATURE HAD TO LISTEN TO
WHO IN THIS MEEK FORM HAD IN HIM THE ALMIGHTY POWER BEYOND HUMAN COMPREHENSION
JESUS THE PIECE OF BREAD AND THE DROP OF WINE THAT ALL THE WORLD BOWS DOWN TO MORE IMPORTANT TO LIFE ON EARTH THAN THE SUN
JESUS THE WORD INCARNATE THE TRUTH PERSONIFIED "UNABLE" TO SPEAK LIES SIMPLY BECAUSE THE REALITY ITSELF BENDS AND SHIFTS TO FULFIL HIS EVERY WORD
JESUS WHO KNEW YOUR EVERY THOUGHT BEFORE THE WORLD EXISTED (HE LIVES IN YOUR MIND RIGHT NOW)
JESUS WHOSE TRUE GODLY FORM IF YOU TOOK ONE LOOK AT YOU WOULD INSTANTLY DIE
Lovecraftian horrors may only wish they could have this level of mind-shattering incomprehensiveness that the only real God who ever existed has
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(art by OukaMocha)
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