#my partner is 8 years older than me

[lueurjun]

f1 driver!boyfriend heeseung.

request — if you are accepting requests i was thinking maybe something like formula one driver heeseung x reader where they travel to support him at his races all around the world, and also watching their boyfriend become world champion at the end of the season? thank you <3 !! 🎀

eek ! sorry this took so long. i have been in a deep writers block. but i hope you enjoy this lovely <3 this is long, my bad… i got carried away because i loved writing this. i had so much fun im not even kidding, i think i’m going to turn this into a written series for heeseung.

refer to this edit for the vibes—it has me in a chokehold and gave me the motivation for this.

rocking back and forth because ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

LEE HEESEUNG?? FORMULA ONE DRIVER?

SEDATE ME ! I NEED THIS

ahem anyways :)

heeseung’s career began at eight years old when his parents finally gave in and allowed him to start go karting.

f1 was his dream! he had posters in his room. miniature car figurines in a glass case that he didn’t let anybody touch. he sat for every race, knew every driver and owned so much merch that his mother had to hide her credit card

it’s giving maddy knew who she was from a young age- it’s giving obsession- it’s giving me with my enhypen obsession-

it was clear from the get go that this kid had some talent. he knew what he was doing and he knew how to do it better than anyone else

though he’s always been a little bit of a shit talker and ended up in several friendly feuds with other upcoming drivers.

lmao can you imagine 8 year old heeseung bickering with max verstappen?

as he grew older, he began competing in various competitions, and won the majority of them which opened up the doors to competing internationally

years later, he secures a position in F3 and gradually works his way up to F2. eventually, he makes it into F1 as one of the most promising drivers, under the guidance of red bull

now let’s introduce you

*louder than heeseung* hey 😘😉

you met Heeseung at one of his karting races when he was 15. instantly recognizing his potential, you had him sign your phone case, insisting that he was going to be famous one day and you wanted to sell it on ebay when he did.

absolute icon if you ask me

he thought you were being ridiculous, but he couldn't help but feel flattered by your confidence. after signing your phone case, he surprised you by asking for your number.

and who are you to pass up on the opportunity to keep in touch with a soon to be famous racer?

i can race faster than him just sayin ✋🙂‍↔️🤚 broom broom

the two of you remained in touch, and you attended as many races as possible to support him as a best friend. two years later, just as he secured a seat in F2, heeseung nervously asked you to be his partner.

which, of course, you were more than happy to.

now, onto present day: f1 driver heeseung with you, his beloved partner.

not you in your wag era-

i genuinely see you owning a tiktok account where you kinda just post daily grwms or vlogs which feature heeseung and your life travelling with him

and everybody eats it up because they get to see the human side of heeseung not just the aggressive driver that shit talks everything and everyone

yes i’m making him a sassy shit talker because i want to SUE ME

you kinda prove to his haters that he’s actually a huge nerd with the cutest personality, which garners him a lot more support

his team ADORES you for this

but it’s also really funny because why is the p2 winner, cocky red bull driver giving your followers a haul on all of his toy story merch?

his helmet is definitely custom designed as buzz lightyear and i find that absolutely adorable

he also has your initial on his helmet somewhere that everyone thinks is so sickeningly cute

he calls it his good luck charm

you receive some hate with jealous people accusing you of only wanting his money and fame

haters come outside i’m not gonna do anything. haha. i just wanna talk ( and set their hair on fire ) just a lil chit chat 😃

but for the most part, you are actually very much adored

if fans see you walking around, they call out for you to take pics with them

which you do, albeit with a little hesitance, as you’re not used to the spotlight and don’t quite understand why people idolise you.

ummmm because you’re perfect🫶 hope this helps

in this scenario, you’re a full time influencer which makes it easy for you to travel alongside him and attend all of his races

which is good because you couldn’t make his japan gp due to an issue and he damn near lost his mind

bro was STRESSING

i would be too if i had u and had to deal with a couple days without u 🫶

he made it everyone’s issue

his team were so tired of him that they sent you multiple texts begging for you to get on a flight

he was so sassy during his interviews and the viewers immediately knew it was because you weren’t there

‘bringy/nback’ trended with memes making fun of him for being a brat without you there

he finished really badly that weekend

bro relies on you fr

when you eventually returned at his side for his next race

he was back to his angelic self

you made him apologize to all the team

imagine you stood behind him with your arms crossed, shaking your head while he sheepishly apologises in front of everyone for being difficult HAHHAHA

he was all smiles in his interview and got p1 because he was eager to impress you

gigglin and kickin my feet BECAUSE HES SO CUTE

and you’re stood in the paddock, watching with the biggest grin on your face

when the podium celebration rolls around, you’re front row and he makes sure you get hit with some champagne with the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen

he ruined your very expensive outfit but you didn’t have it in you to be mad

i would never do that to you personally- just saying, your clothes would always be in pristine condition if you were with me… just sayin ✋😌🤚

when the two of you leave literally anywhere, he gets swarmed by fans

tells them to wait a second, and gets you to the car safely before he jogs over to sign some stuff

if you can’t get to the car, he makes sure your hand is in his, keeping you close whilst he signs things

he’s always hyper aware of your safety in public

if you’re instantly met with flashing lights, he will either cover your eyes or take off his hat and put it on your head to shield you

your safety always comes before his

also can we talk about your fashion?

you always dress to impress, never a bad outfit day

pfft is anyone surprised? you’re literally gods gift to earth- MOVE HEESEUNG

travel days are always so tiring for heeseung

which is when you become the protective one

holding him protectively whilst you both wait for your flight

running your hands through his hair

he holds you so tight; he doesn’t care who sees or about getting teased by his fellow drivers

when you’re finally in the air, whether it be private jet or not, you always make yourself into a personal pillow for him

it could be the cushiest flight known to man, and you’d still be his pillow

that should be me fr

he sleeps like a baby the whole time

and you don’t mind because you know he needs it

in the days leading up to the championship, he becomes…

unbearable? whiny? annoying? come here, i’d never- sorry sorry 😔

tense…

his stress levels are through the roof and nothing really helps other than just letting him be

he’s snappier than usual, but after many years together, you’ve learned to let it go

because you know this is a huge deal for him and he always apologises afterwards

the only thing you can really do is serve as his support and try to relax him as best as you can

like couple spa days when his schedule isn’t crammed

sightseeing to enjoy the beautiful country

even lying in your hotel room the night before, reminiscing about your relationship and his journey to becoming one of the best

you’d feel his heartbeat beneath your back which would be pressed up against him

his shaky breaths against the side of your neck as he pressed nervous kisses beneath your ear, nibbling slightly on the lobe

god… i’ve seen what you’ve done for others

“will you still love me if i don’t win tomorrow?”

you can tell he’s straddling the line between joking and genuinely needing reassurance

so, you do what you always do

you turn, cup both of his cheeks in your palms, and press your forehead against his

“you look funny.”

he’d giggle, and you’d start wiggling your eyebrows to make him laugh harder

and he always does, because to him, you’re the funniest person he’s ever met

then, you’d scrunch up your nose and gently sweep it against his, eventually leaving a kiss on the bridge.

“i will love you no matter what. even if you wake up tomorrow and decide that you want to quit, i will love you. even if you decide to walk away from it all, i will love you. because at the end of the day, it’s not the trophies that matter or the podiums. it’s you. you, you, you! your happiness, your peace of mind. you are my greatest achievement; you are my championship win. and i will love you until my heart beats its last pump of blood.”

if you look closely, you can see me drowning in the shower-

a million kisses are shared that night before the two of you finally slip into a steady sleep

when the next morning rolls around, heeseung doesn’t talk much as he gets himself ready for the race

you’re a bundle of nerves as you follow behind him, hand clutched in his own

pre race cuddles are a must in his little rest room

there’s not much talking, heeseung quite likes his silence to gather his mind and enter his racing headspace

but his hold on you, and the way he looks at you speaks for itself. you don’t need his words to know that he loves you and he wants to win not only for himself or red bull, but you.

“if we win this, i’ll give you my helmet to sell on ebay. i think it would go nicely with the signature i gave you at 15.”

your heart quite literally melts into a puddle at the memory

you grin, peppering a bunch of kisses all over his face until you finally land on his lips, soaking in the pre race nerves and savouring the taste of nutella from his pancakes he had that morning

“oh, i am going to be absolutely loaded.”

the two of you share a laugh, knowing silently that you’d never sell it on ebay because it’s tucked away in your memory box, where it will stay until you’re grey and old

a piece of the past where the two of you very first met

the peace drains from the room as though a plug had been pulled from the bathtub, with tension and nerves flooding in

look at me getting all poetic 😌

heeseung doesn’t let go of your hand until he absolutely has to

leaving you alongside his family members with a kiss so passionate it left your mind reeling

his mother grabs your hand after sharing her own moment with him, and the two of you hold on tight to the hope that he’s going to win

the race is tense, you’re almost in tears from the chaos and the nerves

your heart feels like it’s seconds from stopping as the end to the final lap approaches with heeseung in close second

he’s going to overtake, and you’re not quite sure whether your heart could handle it

STOP WHY IS MY HEART POUNDING AS IF IM THERE PLS

you grip onto his mother, the two of you holding onto each other in anticipation

it happens within seconds, you barely have time to process it

heeseung overtakes, barely missing the Ferrari car as he does so

several seconds later, your world stops as the red bull team bursts into celebration

someone is shaking you, gripping onto you with pure elation but everything is in slow motion

heeseung just won the world championship

your heeseung just won

nah because why am i crying? someone take my laptop i’m far too into this

you choke out a sob, allowing his mother to cradle you in her arms with tears flowing down her own cheeks

you’re a crying mess, blubbering proudly and unable to make sense of anything

you don’t even care that the camera is on you, displaying your reaction for everyone to see

“he did it!”

“he absolutely did!”

you don’t know how much time has passed before he’s running towards you, yanking the helmet off

there’s no time to process anything before he sweeps you up into his arms, pressing kisses all over your skin wherever his lips could fit

he holds you like you’re the trophy, lifting you up proudly like a medal

tears cascade down your cheeks like a summer waterfall, while warmth and joy spread through you

he did it. he actually did it.

“get that helmet signed, boy. i’m gonna be rich!”

[fattystoriez]

Daddy is Different

Content Warning: Incest, Weight gain

Trent was an only child raised by just his father. His mother had left his father for a richer man when Trent was only 8 years old. Trent and his father were very close before Trent left for college right out of high school on a basketball scholarship. Trent hadn’t visited for the holidays, which made Trent feel guilt for leaving his father all alone, with only a little communication back and forth. So Trent decided to go back home for Spring break, his father had presumably found a partner who really wanted to meet Trent, he was excited to see his father was doing well.

Trent arrived home and walked right in, announcing himself. “Hello? Dad?? Anybody home?!” As Trent walked in the house was a mess, junk food trash everywhere. Trent’s father was usually healthy… Trent couldn’t imagine his dad ever touching any junk food. There was a smell of musk and piss, stained jockstraps all over the place.

Trent makes it to he living room which was a major source of the smell, his dad was sitting in a chair in the living room. He looked wildly different, his healthy average hairless body seemed to have ballooned into a fat guy topped by a set of tits. He was bald now, a spotted a heady beard. He has a cigar in his mouth, one that seemed to have just been lit.

“Welcome home Piggy, I’ve missed you so much.” Trent’s dad opened his arms stretched out for a hug.

Trent was taken a back… how could this be his father? This man was a fat disgusting slob, the complete opposite of his dad. “Dad? What happened to you?”

“So this is the Piggy I’ve heard so much about!” A giant fat man walked in, wearing only his camouflage underwear. He was graying, definitely older than Trent’s father. His bulge was massive, the tip soaked in pre-cum. He walked right up to Trent and put his hand on his arm “You’re quite the skinny guy, not nearly plump enough to be a pig.”

Trent pushed away “What the fuck? Dad what’s going on here… who is this disgusting man?!” Trent’s head started to feel light, he was starting to get dizzy.

“It’s daddy for now on pig, and this is your paw. I met him at the bar a couple months ago” Hiw could these changes happen in a just a few months? “He told me he could make my life better and help me get you back home.” Trent’s father blew out a plume of smoke into his son’s face.”

Paw got behind Trent and pulled his shirt off “this will give you some room piggy” Trent was so confused, but oddly getting very horny. Paw got Trent in his knees, whipped out his fat cock and huge balls. “I’m so full piggy, time to fattened up this hog!” Paw forced his cock into Trent’s mouth.

After not a few pumps down Trent’s throat Paw was ready to bust his load into Trent’s mouth. It was like his balls has gallons of cum, causing Trent to feel full.

Trent’s body filled out with lard covering his once slender, lean body. His stomach pushed out and jiggled with soft fat, starting to form rolls on his body. “Ughnnnn” Trent moaned as he groped his fat body. “What’s are you doing to me?!” Trent was starting to get hard. Trent was trying to fight away, stop this from happening, but he was beginning to give in.

Paw and Daddy began to play with Piggy’s fattening body, they start to push into his soft rolls. Daddy began to shove junk food like pizza, doughnuts and shakes into Piggy’s mouth.

Piggy’s underwear started morphing into a black jockstrap, his blubbery body hanging over his waist. Piggy grew a full beard that showcased the milkshake staying around his mouth. Piggy’s body had become so huge, so far from the lean body he had moments prior.

What was once a college basketball player, is now a Piggy for his fat slobbish daddies to force to grow fatten and fatter. Trent sometimes makes it to the surface, his horror of being so huge and disgusting later turned into a grotesque horniness. There was no more Trent, only Piggy.

[lokis-army-77]

Live from Hawkins

Older!Eddie Munson x female reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Eddie watched as you are stood up on a date and without a second thought, he brings you home.

Warning: 18+. Eddie is in his late 50s to early 60s, reader is 20s to early 30s. p in v, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, sir kink, pet names, a few spanks, fingering, mention of a partner having died.

A/n: Thank you @munson-blurbs for hyping me up to write this and for thinking of the funny little thing that happens at the end hehe, I love you <3 also my version older!eddie is inspired by @ farmerusedto on tiktok and Instagram.

Masterlist  Part 2

The fun of nightlife had escaped Eddie when his biological clock started making him go to bed at 8:30 p.m. instead of 2 a.m., but tonight was an exception. After an extraordinarily shitty day, he thought a drink or two at his old haunt would cheer him up. It didn’t, not entirely. The whisky he had been nursing tasted like shit and the crowd in the bar left little to be desired, except for you. 

Eddie had clocked you when you entered the establishment at eight on the dot. His eyes raked over the pretty silky red dress that stuck to the curves of your body as you made your way to a tiny circular table with two chairs and sat down. Your head was held high as you watched the front door. 

Ah, a date, He thought. Then he began thinking about all the dates he had been on in the long past years until he had met his wife, and then the lack thereof after her passing twenty-some years ago. He’s never had time to date. Raising kids two kids as a single dad while also being a simi-successful musician turned producer, looking for romance added a whole new thing to worry about so he just didn’t, but now, in his later years of life, with his children grown and moved out, he could afford the chance to indulge. Sadly though, you were apparently taken. 

Even after he had finished his one glass of alcohol, he waited. Watching you as your posture slowly became slouched, you sipped on some fancy beverage, and your head stopped peaking up when the bell to the door chimed as it was opened and closed. You were beautiful and didn’t deserve to be stood up.

When the clock struck nine, Eddie stretched his aching joints and stood from the bar. Sauntering his way over to your tiny table.

“This seat taken?” He asked, hand resting on the back of the chair. 

You lifted your head from your phone startled and shook your head. “Unfortunately, no. You can take it.” Sighing, you look back down at your phone, expecting him to take the lone chair and pull it up to another table. To your surprise, he actually sat down in front of you. “Um… can I help you?” 

“Sorry, I just saw you sitting here by yourself for a while and thought you might like the company. A pretty girl like you in a pretty dress like that shouldn’t be sitting alone in a bar like this, some weirdo could show up.”

You blush, almost as red as your dress. “And how do I know you aren’t the weirdo?” 

“Good question. You don’t.” He laughed.

The deep timber of it had your stomach flipping. His facial features were hidden under a nicely kept beard, full of salt and pepper hairs, more salt than anything else. The shaggy, slightly curly hair atop his head looked the same. He was definitely older than you by a couple of decades, but hey he was nice looking and obviously, the guy you were supposed to be seeing wasn’t coming. What harm could come from flirting with this guy?

“But hey, a bit of mystery can be a good thing, don’t you think?” He asks. 

You can't help the giggle that passes your lips. “Oh, really?” You look him up and down. His outfit was something reminiscent of the eighties, only more subdued. Tight black jeans, motorcycle boots, and an Iron Maiden shirt that had been ripped at the hem. Before he had sat down you even spotted a black and white skull bandana in his back pocket. “I’ve heard that with age comes wisdom. Are you here to enlighten me then?”

He lets out a more hearty laugh this time, his head falling back. Your eyes scan the contours of his neck and watch as his Adam's apple bobs up and down. “I don’t know about wisdom, but I do have a few decades under my belt. Maybe I was the one hoping to learn a little thing or two from such a charming young lady as yourself. 

Your hand lifts to cover your smile and you look away almost bashfully. “Such a smooth talker aren’t you?” 

“As smooth as I can be…” He leans forward, hand resting on the table, fingers laced together. You see the many rings decorating them. The flip in your stomach drops and you clench your thighs together. “Why? Is my charm winning you over?”

“So that’s what you’re trying to do, huh?” You smile. 

“Well, it was either that or all the vintage dad jokes I know.” He smiles back. 

You can feel your mood being lifted from the once sour thing that it was into something more bubbly as you listen to him. “Vintage dad jokes? Sound’s intriguing. Maybe I’ll stick around for now.” 

He nods. “That’s a good choice Sweetheart. Who could resist the allure of outdated humor and a bit of gray hair?” His hand tugs at his beard. 

“You know, I could be out having an adventure with the guy I was supposed to be meeting here instead of chatting with a silver fox.” There is a permanent grin etched into your face as he gasps in faux offense. 

“You wound me, Sugar.  Isn’t it usually the unexpected adventures that turn into something unforgettable?” Eddie couldn’t lie to himself, he was laying it on pretty thick, but it was all in hopes that maybe, just maybe you might come home with him. 

“Well, I do have to admit you are intriguing, maybe I’ll take you up on this adventure.” It was childish, the way your heel-clad foot slid its way past the single, center leg of the table and halfway up the man’s calf. 

When he feels your foot rubbing on him, he has to steel his face. One of his hands slipped from the table and slithered its way down his leg and caught your foot. “What do you say we get out of here?” His hands were so big and his fingers so long that they wrapped with ease around your ankle. The pads of his fingers pressed in gently and you hoped he couldn’t feel how fast your pulse were thumping throughout your body. 

Your mouth suddenly turned dry, words evaded you. All you could do was nod in response. He let go of your foot and stood, reaching out his hand. You take it and he pulls you up as well. “My name’s Eddie by the way.” 

…

The drive to Eddie’s suburban home was filled with chase touches and lingering hands. His large palm warmed your thigh, his fingers dug into the plushness there. You cozied up to him, lips trailing up his neck to his ear where you nibbled on the lobe. 

Eddie groaned as he white-knuckled the steering wheel. His breath caught in his throat when you inched a delicate hand into his lap. 

“Now, little girl, don’t be starting something you can’t finish.” He chided. His hand on your thigh moved ever closer to the already high hem of your dress. 

“Little girl?” you whisper into his ear. “I’m not a little girl, old man.”

You feel every bump and jerk of his 1960s Ford pickup as he practically jumps the curb and slams the brakes in his driveway, screeching to a halt. Eddie unfastened his seatbelt and turned to you. His hand immediately found purchase on the back of your neck and he pulled you in for a kiss. His lips were soft and plump and his beard tickled. You giggled into the kiss but that was cut short when they turned to gasps as soon as Eddie caressed his tongue into your mouth. 

“Eddie…” You moan into him, fingers latched onto his shirt, pulling him into you. 

“What is it, Sweetheart?” He pulled away from the kiss. 

You looked him in his eyes, the street lamp outside aiding in deepening their already dark hue. “Touch me. Need you to touch me.” 

He smirked. “Alright baby, I’ll touch you.” 

Then, he backed away, hooking you from himself and slipping out the door. A pout worked its way onto your features as he walked around and opened your door. Tisking he shook his head. “What’s the frown for sugar?” 

You took his outstretched hand, he was ever the gentleman. “You stopped kissing me.” 

Leaning down he gave you a sloppy peck on the lips. “Well, I can't touch you how you want, Sweetheart, unless we go inside.” He chortled as he guided you to his front door. As soon as the lock was undone and the knob twisted, you pushed the two of you inside. You were hot and worked up and needed something to help the pounding ache that had made itself known between your thighs. 

Inside, you try your best to tug Eddie’s shirt up and over his head but he is quick to catch your hands, pushing you back against the wall and holding them above your head. 

“Not so fast. You’ve got to ask for the things that you want.” 

You shake your head in defiance. You knew where this was going from the way he gripped your wrists. From the way his voice became stricter, more dominant. Need pools in the pit of your stomach. This was what you had been craving, what no other man could make you feel. 

“Please.” Your plea comes out just above a whisper. 

“Tsk, Sweetheart, I think you can do better than that.” Eddie maneuvers both your wrists into the hold of one hand while he lets the fingers of his other run down the open skin of your neck tantalizingly slowly. Goosebumps begin to prickle on your skin as the fingers wander down your chest and over the tops of your breasts, cleavage on display, heaving as you take sharp breaths of air. 

“Please, Eddie.” Voice cracking. “Please, I want you. I want you to touch me, I want to feel you.” 

He groans, hips pressing you to the wall harder. “What a good girl you are.” He captures your lips in another heated kiss.

The night had barely begun and you already felt like you were drowning in him. The scent of menthol cigarettes, whisky, and something almost woody filled your nose and all you could think of was the man pinning you to the wall.

A staggered gasp caught in your throat when Eddie dropped your wrists and heaved you up by the waist. Your legs cinched around him and his arms held you close. “Why don’t we take this to my room? I can put some nice mood music on.” He kissed up your neck as he carried you through his home. 

“Mood music, hum?” You whimper when he sucks on a sensitive spot. “What, gonna play the Temptations greatest hits? Or how about the Chordettes? Don’t they have that song with your name in it?” 

You yelp when his hand smacks your ass. “M’not that old, Sweetheart. It’s more like eighties rock ballads but that’s not what I’m choosing.” The smirk that contoured his lips was wicked. 

“Mmm, and how old are you?” You ask, words muffled by your lips meeting his. 

“Old enough.” Eddie pushes his door open and it hits the wall with a thud. He walks to his bed in the darkness and practically throws you on top of the sheets. He doesn’t follow, instead, he flips the bedside lamp on and the room fills with a soft yellow light. 

His room isn’t what you thought it would be. It's all dark colors, blacks and grays. Three electric guitars hang like decorations on the wall in front of you. A few picture frames are scattered over the dresser to your left, too far to see the images clearly in the dim light. You watch him like a hawk as he walks to that very dresser and turns on a speaker. 

He really wasn’t kidding about the mood music. You think. 

“Get comfortable Sugar… Just got to figure out this damn phone.” You chuckle as you watch him fiddle with the touchscreen and cheer when the music fills the silence. You laugh even louder when Eddie fumbles the phone in his hands and drops it to the floor. “Shit.” He bends down to pick it up and when he does he props it against the mirror of the dresser. 

“Is it okay?” You ask, hand covering the giant smile plastered on your face. 

“It’ll live.” He shakes his head. When the giggles die down, he slowly comes toward you, crawling up the bed. The way his hands travel up your bare legs gives you chills. He pries you open gently, your dress hikes up your thighs, and the wetness of your pussy is on full display. 

“Well, aren’t you a naughty girl… No panties?” He asks, hot breath on the inside of your thigh as he nips at the skin. 

You shake your head as you explain. “No, not wearing a bra either. You can see the outline through the dress” 

He grins a devilish grin and slowly teases his way up your thigh. The hot air from his breath caresses your skin white his beard tickles you. He pushes back your dress a little more before looking you in the eyes. “Ready?”

The whine that comes from you is almost unrecognizable, all desperate and needy when his mouth attaches itself to your pretty cunt. Your hand flies to his head, gripping his silky hair between stiff fingers. 

“Fuck. E-Eddie.” You rasp. He hums the vibrations add to the cacophony of pleasurable feelings between your legs. 

Eddie’s tongue rolls along your folds, wetting every inch of skin. The gentle sucks he performs on your clit pull moan after moan from you. Your back arches and your hips push down into the bed. Eddie’s hands push your thighs farther apart, the plush of them pooling through his spread fingers. 

He loves the feel of you. Loves that he can make you writhe under him with just his tongue. His ego is through the roof, having not been this intimate with someone in years. 

It's been all but a few minutes, to you its been hours, Eddie is expertly working you up up up and to the edge. One hand smoothes down your leg and under his chin. You feel the subtle touches of his fingers as they linger around your cunt. His other hand pushes your leg back more, creating more room. You heave a cry when two fingers breach you, stretching you out at a leisurely pace. 

In and out, in and out, in and out he went, fucking you deeply with those long thick fingers of his, covered in rings. The metal soon became warm as they began to be covered in your slickness and his spit that dribbled down to meet them.

With the way his fingers pushed up into your walls, poking the fire in your belly. The ember that it once was, was not a full-on flame. It was wild and hot and needed something more to feed on. 

“Eddie!” You cried, clamping down around him. Body ridged, ready to let go. 

“That’s right baby, say my fucking name.” He pulled back only to reattach to your clit and pump his fingers tenfold. 

His words were tender to the flame, making it rage out of control. “Eddie!” You cried again, wonton moans following as you feel the fire spreading. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you chant like a prayer. 

He’s greedy as he laps up every ounce of your release, you have to push him away gently, too sensitive for him to keep going but the crooked smirk he gives you as he kisses up your body tells you he wants more. 

Your breathing is rapid as you come down. Your legs feel like jello and you’re hot, super hot. The fire in your veins had rekindled and the dress, conforming to your body, was becoming uncomfortable in the heat. 

Eddie can see the way you tug at the garment and gives it a tug of his own. “I hate to see this little number go but I need to see all of you.” He manhandles you onto your stomach, snatching the tiny red zipper and pulling it down to reveal the soft skin of your back. 

His hands rub into your muscles, thumbs catching on knots and smoothing them out. It was intimate, something you had never experienced in a one-night stand. He removed the tiny straps from your shoulders and kneaded until you were sighing contently into his sheets. Lower and lower he went, tugging the fabric with him and eventually taking it off, throwing it into the abyss. Rough fingers squeezed at the fat of your ass. 

Unknowingly, Eddie had bent down, and as he was massaging you bit down playfully on your ass cheek. A weak squeal erupts from your throat. “Eddie, what are you doing?” 

“I can’t help it if you look good enough to eat.” He bites down again and you buck your hips back. A hand quickly smacks down on your ass. “Quit being a brat. First not asking for what you want and now this? What am I going to do with you?”  Condescension drips thickly from his words. 

You wiggle your hips in his grasp. “M’sorry.” 

Another smack. “I’m sorry what?” 

The fire burns brighter with this fuel.

“I’m sorry, Eddie.”

He spanks you a third time. “Try again, baby.”

Your stomach flips. “I’m sorry… Sir.”

He hums in satisfaction. His hands wrap around you and pull you to your knees, ass in the air. With your head buried in the covers, you can only guess what he’s doing by the subtle movements behind you. 

Eddie has taken his shirt off and unzipped his pants. His cock achingly hard and straining against his black boxers. “Gonna fuck this pussy good, baby.” You whimper in response. He shickers, “You like that, Sweetheart? You want my cock in that pretty pussy of yours?” 

“Please,” You mewl, aching to finally have him inside you. The roughness of his hand steadies you as he inches closer. His hard cock on the other hand. He presses it against your folds, the head slipping through easily. You release a shaky breath when he nudges your clit. “Need you inside, please Sir.”

“Gonna give it to you baby,” Eddie replies, pushing into you. His breathing shudders at the warmth surrounding him. Your cunt squeezes him tightly, sucking him in and not letting him go. 

He feels amazing stretching you out. He's bigger than you thought, wider. The tip pushes into your walls as he begins to thrust into you, the most wonderful grunts and growls filling your ears from behind. 

"So fucking tight, Sugar." Eddie fucks into you at a hard brushing pace with stamina you didn't know he had. His hands grip your hips so hard you know there will be visible marks there later but you don't mind. 

You turn your head slightly and look over your shoulder as best you can. Eddie has a wild look in his eye, streaks of gray hair falling into his face. Your eyes catch on the plethora of ink etching his skin. You had seen the ones covering his arms but you couldn't have imagined this. Your mind wandered to what the rest of his body looked like. We're there more pieces yet to be seen or did alabaster skin win out as you go further down his body? The thought of seeing the rest of him has you bouncing your ass back into him, meeting his every thrust with fervor. 

The fire Eddie had lit within you was once again roaring out of control. The way his cock filled you deep has you shaking in delight. 

"More, more, more," you called out to him, fists clamping down onto his sheets so hard it was a wonder you hadn't ripped them. 

“More? Is that what you want?” He patronizes. His right hand moves from your hip and he bends forward, snatching your hair up at the base of your skull. The dull throb that accompanies his tight hold has you wailing. Your stomach flips and flips, pressure building up. You’re going to cum and you tell him as much. 

“Please, keep going Eddie, fuck. Keep going, I’m gonna cum, Sir.” Big blubbery tears have started to streak down your face, once pristine makeup now smeared. 

He pulls on your hair. ‘Don’t cum baby. Wanna watch that pretty face as you cum on my cock.” 

Eddie pulls out of you and it feels like forever until you are flipped onto your back and he inserts himself back inside. The new angle has your legs clamping shut around him and the head of his cock brushing against a sensitive spot which makes you keen into him.

You make eye contact with him, his gaze is feral. He’s looking at you like you’re a buffet laid out for him. His hips rock into you with such force that your body is slowly jerking up the bed. You reach out for him, hands open and close, needing to have him close to you. That fire is still burning within you and it is scorching. 

Eddie leans into your touch, relishing in the feeling of your nails dragging long scratches down his pecks and stomach. He catches one, entwining his fingers with yours and pinning your hand back into the mattress. Another intimate moment that had butterflies erupting alongside your fire. 

“Please,” you whimper. “Wanna cum so bad.” 

He leans down more, pressing a chased kiss on your lips. “Alright Sweet girl, you can cum.” 

When you let go, Eddie can’t help the absolutely hedonistic moan that comes forward. He’s rutting into your constricting cunt like an animal. The look of absolute ecstasy that washes over your face had him fighting off his own release. 

“Where do you want it, Baby? Where do you want my cum?” 

It’s absolutely crazy, the place that comes to mind, but some deep, dark, nefarious place inside you wants it so badly. Craves is. 

Without thinking, brain foggy with a greediness only comparable to the deadly sin itself, you blurt, “Inside.” 

Eddie’s hips stutter and his mind goes blank. Inside? Fuck, She wants it inside. He groans, fighting himself. He shouldn’t but he wants to. Oh, how he wants to. Thoughts of what your pussy would look like leaking his cum have him going ridged, his conscience losing out against a primal need he didn’t know he had. 

“Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck ah!” He’s a moaning mess when he finally gives in and lets himself cum. 

You can feel his release as a warmth spreads out from your tummy and envelopes you. Eddie falls careful not to let all of his weight squish you. His kisses make you giggle as you try and catch your breath. 

You’re exhausted, warn out in a way you never have been. “Thank you,” you say, kissing him back. He looked at you with soft, round eyes.

“Why are you thanking me, Sweetheart?” 

You sigh, content. “You saved me from a night of wallowing in my self-pity.”

He shakes his head. “Beautiful girl like you deserves to be treated right, that guy’s a bastard.” 

“Tha-” You’re cut off by the loud ringing of his phone, still connected to the speaker.  Eddie cringes at the volume and turns slightly to eye the phone but does not move to get up. It stops ringing a moment after. 

“I think I should get going…” You whisper and give him another kiss. 

“Mmm, you could stay the night. I can take you back to your car tomorrow.” 

You pout at him. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“Sweetheart, I’m asking you to stay, you aren't imposing on anything.” 

You giggle and go to answer but you are interrupted by his phone ringing again. Eddie says quietly, “What the hell?” before pulling himself out of you. He hesitates a moment, watching as his cum leaks past the puffy, used lips of your cunt, then grabs at his phone. 

‘HARRINGTON’ Is flashing across the screen. 

“What do you want man? I’m in the middle of something.” 

Eddie still has his phone connected to the speaker and the next few sentences make Your smile fall and your face bloom into a heat that could rival the sun. 

“Oh, I know you are. Half the fucking world does you dipshit!” 

“Wow okay Steve, calm down. No need for name-calling.”

“Eddie I swear to god, do you know what you’ve just done?” 

“No…?” Eddie scratches his head, looking at you and shrugging his shoulders. 

“You just fucking broadcasted you having fucking sex LIVE on fucking Facebook!”

[inuyashaluver]

Hi could you do smt abt being Lucy bronzes little sister who is the photographer for city women and is in a secret relationship with Leila Ouahabi and no one know because your “forbidden” to footballers per Lucy’s request as according to her your still a baby as your like 23/24 ish.

by the rule book - leila ouahabi

leila ouahabi x reader

description: in which you and your sister have a set of rules that you break because of a certain defender

warnings: let’s pretend leila attended the world cup, basically me yapping, swearing, angsty?

a/n: leila train has arrived back at my stop lmao, thank you so much for the request, much love, enjoy ❤️❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your sister had a set of rules that were heavily referenced while growing up, and the present.

this set of rules sworn on by each sister with the promise they would never be broken. and they weren’t, until leila came into the picture.

—

you were 8 years younger than your sister, lucy. you’re a bronze sister, meaning you were extremely fun, playful, but serious and stoic when you needed to be. you and your sister brought out the best in each other, expecting nothing but the finest.

lucy was the best older sister, she was funny and always included you in everything she did once you grew out of your snitch phase and actually became cool in her eyes. the two of you were always extremely close and that’s how you both liked it.

she encouraged you to put your heart to your passion, one of the main reasons you became a photographer.

lucy was extremely protective of you, hence why she created a simple set of rules between the two of you that shouldn’t be broken.

1 - don’t date any of lucy’s teammates

2 - don’t date any of (y/n)’s friends

3 - respect each other’s boundaries

4 - be honest with each other

5 - sisters come first

the rules were easily agreed upon by the both of you, they were made when you were 16 and lucy was 24.

—

you followed lucy around for photographer opportunities, landing yourself a permanent position on the media teams of both england and manchester city when lucy joined in 2020.

you always loved photography, adoring the feeling of capturing a canvas that would be around for years to come.

just before lucy joined in 2020, you were both at england camp. in free time, everyone would eagerly chatter about their new or current clubs they were going to.

you angled your camera at keira while leah marked her during a mini game, checking the photos with a pleased smile until your sister hopped on your back.

“munchkin!” (your nickname for as long as you can remember) “luce! get off!” you laugh, almost falling flat on your face until your sister got off you, giving you an exaggerated kiss on the cheek that you were quick to squeal and complain about.

“you’re so annoying” you grumble, unable to fight your smile at seeing your sister’s bright grin. “shut up, show me some pics, picasso” she teases.

you roll your eyes amusingly, giving her a sneak peek of all the photos you’d taken so far, letting out a bright laugh when she made you stop on a photo of her.

“that’s class” she pinches your cheek teasingly, “well done, baby sis” she coos teasingly, a couple of the girls coming over and teasing you too.

everyone viewed you as family and a teammate even though you were just their photographer, you’d been with them for so long, they’d grown a huge love for you.

“you excited for manchester, (y/n/n)?” leah throws an arm over your shoulder as you both walked inside st george, “yeah! should be good, nice and cold” you grin,

“maybe manchester city is where we can finally see you get a partner?” she teases, you both laugh, “lee, come on, you know the rules” you laugh, “i know the rules!” lucy calls out from behind you from where she was walking behind you.

you flip her off and she gasps offendedly, “i could get you fired for that!” she exclaims, you wave her off, laughing along with leah.

—

you, lucy and keira all lived together in manchester, splitting the rent and living comfortably.

but in 2022, the two of them got offered contracts for barcelona and they accepted, but you didn’t. manchester felt like home to you, and you really didn’t want to leave it.

it was the first time you’d been away from lucy, and don’t be mistaken, you are a highly independent person but something was so reassuring about having your sister with you.

before they moved, they helped you move into a flat for yourself, small and homey like you needed.

it was incredibly tearful dropping keira and lucy off to the airport, you don’t think you’ve ever felt your sister hug you so tight.

“i love you” she breathes out into your embrace, you hug her back equally as tight, “such a sap, bronzes don’t do that” you tease, receiving a slap on the back of your head.

it was daunting for the both of you to be apart, not really having to do that in your lives.

“i love you too” you smile, “i’ll call you when we land” lucy sniffs, hastily wiping away her tears and letting keira hug you as well. “my favourite bronze” keira smiles, both you and lucy letting out a wet laugh.

you wave them both off with a sad smile, waiting for them to go through the gate before you dragged yourself back to your car and drove off.

—

you went back to work at the beginning of the season, waiting for the girls to come outside to photograph their training session.

you smile and wave to familiar faces, taking a couple of test photos before you noticed a new face that you didn’t recognise at first, one of the new signings.

your eyes narrowed slightly in concentration when you looked at her, until you realised who it was. leila ouahabi.

you’ve never met her formally, only smiling at her in the hallways of national games if you had the chance. you always thought she was absolutely gorgeous, but you also appreciated the way she defended, even your sister agreeing she was incredible.

leila smiles at you, slightly surprised to recognise you slightly. the truth was, leila had been heavily looking at your social media platform ever since she laid eyes on you way back.

she thought you were gorgeous, she could tell you were a soft soul, with your charming smile and cute little face you made when you were concentrating on your camera.

she wanted to know you, she was just shy about it, not knowing to approach you, maybe this was the opportunity she needed.

—

training progressed, you smile pleasingly when you look back at your photos, your ultra focus showing on your facial features as you attempt to capture the best photos possible.

you were sat on the side of the pitch watching the girls train, your eyes subconsciously drifting to the spaniard.

it was until a mini game that a certain defender was chasing the ball, kicking it out and sliding directly next to you that your breathing quickened.

you look down to see her slightly wincing, heavily breathing and looking a little too attractive but that was an afterthought.

“are you okay?” you breathe out, the girl on the floor looks up at you surprised, a sly smile taking over her features.

“i’m fine, hermosa (beautiful), thank you” she winks, pushing herself up from the floor and dusting herself off, walking back to the pitch and making sure to look back at you with a flirty smile.

you blink in shock, what was that interaction?

—

these interactions went on, situations where you felt extremely nervous around her even when she was barely doing anything.

you were photographing the new kit, only a set amount of players selected for the campaign, and luckily for you, leila was the very last model for the day.

leila came in with her charming smile and a dray of drinks in her hands, she perks up when you make eye contact.

“good morning, hermosa (beautiful)” she grins, extending the warm drink out to you, you look at her in surprise, a grateful smile gracing your features.

“morning, leila, thank you” you take a sip and let out a pleased sigh, “how did you know this is my favourite?” you tease.

“i read your cup” she says with a flirty smile, though her cheeks tinged slightly with pink. you smile before clearing your throat.

you go through the plans for the shoot, explaining what type of photos you’ll be taking, the approach of the shoot and what you needed from her.

she maintained eye contact the entire time you spoke, nodding along with each and every word and clarifying on things when she didn’t understand.

it was almost hard to press the shutter button when leila would pose, it was a simple, basic, arms crossed - stoic football pose photo that you’ve taken numerous times in your career but something was just so different about how leila did it.

her confidence poured out of her and her smirk made your stomach flip. she was serious but loved to joke around with you when the time called for it.

the two of you basically chatting, taking a photo, chatting, taking a photo. a simple yet effective formula that you both enjoyed. so much so, leila asked you to go out on a date with her and you accepted without a second thought.

—

the two of you went on a couple of dates before the two of you started dating. back then it was really fresh but extremely obvious with the heart eyes you’d send each other.

the manchester girls caught on before the two of you could even process it. and the only condition for everyone was to vow their silence around your sister with the promise of the best pictures being published.

as time progressed, you both moved in together, both of you in one of the most genuine, loving relationship the two of you had ever had.

—

“baby, i’m working” you giggle, pressed up against a random wall, one hand on leila’s hip, camera in the other.

“amor (love), you’re not working right now” she grins cheekily, lips quickly locking with yours. one of her hands on your cheek and one on your hip holding you close to her.

you let out a little exhale from your nose in a laugh, to focused on kissing your now girlfriend of a year.

it was hard hiding it from lucy, especially when the two of you lived together. you were able to get away with it most of the time, telling your sister your roommate was just really chatty.

“baby” you mumble against her lips, attempting to push her away by the chest but the girl was attached to you, “shh, let it happen” she mockingly scolds, giving you a stern look before she kissed you breathlessly.

that’s when you hear it, the chuckles and teasing coming from familiar blondes, alex and chloe. “get it, baby bronze” alex whistles, you and leila pulled away with a roll of both of your eyes.

“don’t forget about that photo i have of you, alex” you threaten, one taken of her with an expression on her face during a header that had her screeching in fear when she saw you laughing at it.

“you’re just as annoying as your sister” alex flips you off when you blow her a kiss, laughing as they walked away.

leila squishes your cheeks together with one of her hands, forming your lips into a little pout, “mi amor (my love), those are my kisses” she grins lazily, clearly teasing you when she placed a little kiss on your forced pout.

you usher her off to training, giving her a playful slap on her backside that she shook her head at.

—

it was during the 2023 world cup that you both got found out, and boy was it an experience. your sister was extremely confused as to why you were so excited spain was in the final, wondering what your certain new interest about the spanish team was about.

“don’t tell me you’re a traitor, munchkin?” lucy scoffs while you set up your camera on the pitch during a pre-match walk.

“luce, i’ve got my england merch on, thank you” you laugh, shaking your head as you take a quick photo of her with an evident frown on her face, her eyes narrowed at you.

“why do you keep looking at their bench?” she questions, following your eyes to see some of the spain girls walking out to do their own checks.

“why are you so paranoid, lucia?” you tease, punching her lightly on the arm and wincing when a slap made its way to the back of your head.

“some of the girl’s play for city, i’m just being nice” you rub your head in slight pain, glaring at your older sister that she returned.

“i’ll find out, i always do” she concludes, letting you go back to taking some photos and other little media bits.

—

and unfortunately for you. she did find out.

the girls were lining up in the tunnel, about 5 minutes until everyone would walk out. ironically you see you sister standing next to leila in the tunnel, you try to fight your smile when you make eye contact with your girlfriend.

she smiles at you, your bodies moving on their own as you completed her pre match ritual, three quick pecks on the lips.

you both smiled brightly when you pulled back, before you heard a sharp voice coming from behind you.

“what the fuck was that?” your sister exclaimed, her hand on your shoulder and spinning you around, both yours and leila’s eyes widened, realising what had just happened. “fucking ouahabi” she breathes out in disbelief.

“i really hope you’re fucking joking, (y/n) bronze because i’m not fucking laughing” she says lowly, not wanting to attract much attention but she was.

you just look up at your sister in shock, mouth slightly agape, “nah, we’re talking about this. later” she glares, both at you and leila.

the girls walk out and you watch them dumbly as you go. you were grateful that moment wasn’t recorded.

during half time your sister wouldn’t even look at you, brushing you off like you were nothing. “don’t” she pleads, walking past you as you tried to approach her.

you walk to the tunnel and felt the tears pricking in your eyes, and like a magnet, leila’s hand found yours, dragging you into a quiet corner where the two of you could have some privacy.

as soon as your girlfriend brought you into a tight embrace, you broke down. “shh, it’s okay” she hums, kissing your cheek softly as you cried in her arms.

she pulls back slightly, looking at you with a sad expression when she saw your tear streaked face, her hand moving up to wipe away the evidence.

“i didn’t want her to find out like that, i was ready to tell her tonight” you sniffle, leila nods along with your words, listening to your little ramble intently as she comforted you.

“i know, bebé (baby), i know” she says sympathetically, pulling you into another hug and just holding you.

she stayed with you the entire time, talking you down and making you look presentable before you went back on the pitch.

she knew she would get subbed off anyway, only wanting to focus on you for the minute. you were still in a hug when lucy came out of the change room, her face softening when she saw your red eyes.

she was about to say something but she stopped herself, not wanting to do this right away. she weirdly smiles at both of you, tight lipped but still somewhat of a smile.

“it’s okay” leila whispers, and it really felt like it was.

leila kisses you softly before she makes her way back on the pitch, and of course when the match ended and england lost, the mood changed.

your sister let you hug her tightly after the loss, holding onto you for dear life as she hugged you. “luce, i’m so sorry, you played so well” you whispered, your hand rubbing up and down her back.

“i’m sorry, munchkin, we still need to talk” she sniffles, wiping away her tears and giving you a gentle smile. you nod, pulling her into another tight hug before you went off to congratulate your girlfriend, weirdly through the encouragement of your sister.

“hey, baby” you smile at your girlfriend, giving her a quick hug when she presses a quick kiss to your cheek.

“hermosa (beautiful)” she greets with a bright smile, “congratulations” you whisper, she thanks you quickly, looking over your shoulder to see your sister hovering around with tears in her eyes, walking around by herself.

“give me one second” leila whispers, gripping your hand gently and walking over to lucy, you and your sister having matching surprised expressions.

“i want to honest, i love your sister, we have been together for a year and we were going to tell you sooner but she was really scared and i respect her” she blurts out,

“i would love to talk about this with you, if you’ll let me” leila says nervously, lucy pauses for a moment before nodding, pulling leila into an extremely quick hug but extremely meaningful.

“sure thing, leila” your sister smiles, a little laugh escaping her lips, “you know, you broke rule number one” lucy teases, telling you everything was going to be okay.

“it doesn’t count! you left when she came over” you groan, letting leila tuck you into her side as she giggled, watching you and your sister bicker like kids.

she could tell how much you cared about each other. but lucy could tell the same for the both of you.

—

all three of you did have that talk, you and your girlfriend explained the details of your relationship to your sister that she was actually quite happy about.

she’d never seen you so happy, so light with any of your previous partners.

she could tell you both loved each other because it was so painfully obvious but she was truly happy after she let out a rant about how you literally broke every rule in the contact.

she got over it though, a hefty shopping spree having your bank account screaming for salvation.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend it’s you! ily oniiii

liked by alexiaputellas and 44,232 others

leilaouahabi: biggest fan and personal photographer

view all comments

yourname: baby, my job is a photographer

↳ leilaouahabi: you’re no fun

lucybronze: hands off my sister

↳ yourname: you’re annoying

↳ lucybronze: you’re annoying

↳ leilaouahabi: i won’t touch her i swear

↳ yourname: sureeeeeeee

alexgreenwood5: so happy i don’t have to but my tongue anymore

↳ lucybronze: you knew?

↳ alexgreenwood5: no comment

leahwilliamsonn: told you!!

↳ yourname: you really did!

[mono-blogs-art]

Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko - The Lesbian Office RomCom You Needed

Blatant flirting, hilarious misunderstandings, and lesbian shenanigans aplenty - this show is funny, over-dramatic, and most of all gay as hell. Here's my review! Spoiler-free version first, and a more detailed spoiler-y version under the cut. I hope you enjoy!

A quick summary: Overall: 9/10, you should absolutely watch this! Genre: RomCom, with some serious elements and a heartfelt exploration of sexuality Watch if you are looking for... : A silly and fun time, a happy ending, misunderstandings, and character development. Highly recommended to watch this with your partner(s) or your sapphic friends! Watch out for... : Although the tone of the show is mostly comedic, it contains discussion & depiction of homophobia at the workplace and past trauma relating to that Where to watch: Official TL on GagaOOLala, or Fansubs by @furritsubs (highly recommended!)

"Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko" (Ayaka-chan wa Hiroko-senpai ni Koishiteru) is a Jdrama adaption of a manga by the same title. The series premiered this year July 2024 and has wrapped up a short while ago, with a total runtime of 8 episodes of 24 minutes each.

The title of the show already says all; the plot is simple: Junior staff member Ayaka is head-over-heels for Hiroko, her senior at the company she works at. And she has decided to go on the offensive.

There are many obstacles in Ayaka's way: first of all, Hiroko is 13 years older than her (they are 23 and 36), and her superior at the workplace. Hiroko is beloved by both her superiors as well as her staff, so Ayaka's love for her is just one of many. And no matter how blatantly she ups her advances (and girl, she is BOLD), Hiroko is 100% convinced that all the flirting is just misplaced, straight-woman obliviousness.

The irony of it all is that Ayaka is absolutely barking up the right tree, because Hiroko is a lesbian, but has been firmly in the closet at work - something that she has no plans on changing. Her professional life and her personal must stay completely separate, at all cost. The only place she can truly be herself is the lesbian bar she's been a regular at for years.

^ Me when I'm a lesbian disaster doing insane mental gymnastics

However, "giving up" is not in Ayaka's vocabulary. As her seduction attempts keep escalating and being misunderstood, Hiroko's hard exterior begins to crumble bit by bit. Can Hiroko finally overcome her rigid ways, and let herself fall for someone?

Although the show is first and foremost a comedy, both Ayaka and Hiroko as characters are handled really well. They have their own problems, insecurities, reservations about the other, and both have a simple but great arc over the course of the series. Ayaka is discovering her sexuality, something she had never even considered before falling for Hiroko. What does being in love with a woman mean for her future? And Hiroko, who is already very confident in her sexuality, is confronted by her past trauma, and the fact that she's still not ready to come out despite the changing times. And while being undercover has saved her career in the past, it has also made her feel alone and isolated. She likes Ayaka back, but can't allow her true colors to show.

Something that I find very hard to achieve with comedy shows is the switch between funny and serious, and I think that Ayahiro manages this very well. Both of our main characters feel grounded enough in reality that when they get emotional, it feels relatable and sincere. For a silly show like this, striking a balance like that is crucial, and save for a few pacing issues in the later half of the show (that I honestly didn't mind at all), I think the show totally nails it. Ayahiro is not a realistic show, but it contains elements of reality that made me connect to it, despite all the insane shenanigans that go on. And because of that the show made me laugh and cry as much as it did, often in the same episode. It works, and Kudos to the writers (and actors!) for that.

Speaking of actors, one thing I must mention is that the show is very well made. The actors (especially Mori Kanna as Hiroko is the standout for me, she has a natural charisma and gay swagger) do a fantastic job, the leads' chemistry is great. The production overall has some real money behind it, with lots of changing sets that all look great and have been crafted with care. Ayaka's outfits are absolute KILLER, she is giving insane femme energy. The show also looks very pretty, the color graders turn that saturation up to 100 and it fits Ayaka's rose-tinted world well.

That's it for the spoiler-less part, I'll now get into specific characters and plot points with full spoilers up to the end of the series under the cut. If you don't want to get spoiled, I hope the review until now made you want to watch the show for yourself! I hope you enjoy!

First of all I need to disclaim that I have not read the original manga that she show is based on, so I can't compare the series to its original and how the plot is written there. I do intend to read it (I hope it gets localized to German so I can support the official release, but I might check out the English Official TL anyway before that) but for now, I will only judge the series as is.

Ayaka: Our protagonist is a femme fatale, in... another meaning of the word, I guess. She is a disaster, bad at pretty much everything she does except not giving up. Once she has set her mind to something, she will get it done. That leads her to often be inconsiderate and unable to see what others around her are feeling, which goes mostly for her best friend Risa, but also for Hiroko, whose feelings she also fails to consider even when pursuing her. Ayaka has to learn the hard way that her naivete is hurting others, and herself. She hasn't really thought her advances through, simply acting on instinct. But as the series goes on, she takes her feelings and her newly discovered sexuality seriously, and grows comfortable with calling herself a lesbian. She is also unashamedly horny, like, Oh My God, this girl is trying to get laid so bad. This is hilarious and refreshing to see, and although her seduction attempts are often played as comedic, it doesn't feel like she is being ridiculed for her sexuality by the show. Ayaka often crosses boundaries (physical and emotional) with Hiroko, both out of naivite and in deliberate attempts to seduce her. To me this was never truly infuriating, even though sometimes she really did go too far, but for me it always kept in tone with the comedy of the show. Even when Ayaka finally comes out in front of the entire office, she makes it clear that she doesn't want Hiroko to do the same if she's not ready.

Hiroko: Our deuteragonist is probably my favourite character in the show, and I think she's very relatable and well done. As an older lesbian, she's got plenty of experience, having even earned the title of "The Ace" in her lesbian friend circle for being a talented womanizer. But a traumatic experience of losing her last partner due to being found out at the workplace has changed her. She's afraid to get attached, she's unable to let people get close to her true self. So when Ayaka is fighting tooth and nail to get to her, Hiroko is caught in conflict between her feelings of attraction and her past trauma. She does everything in her power to dismiss Ayaka's advances to protect herself, and later when she learns that Ayaka is in fact not straight (duh), she still turns her down to protect Ayaka's (and her own) career. Hiroko is a bit of a conservative - something she's also called out for in her lesbian friend circle - she believes that coming out at work is impossible and irresponsible. And you know, I get it. Not only does she have personal bad experiences with exactly that, it's also not unreasonable to think it would be a bad idea to hook up with your junior of 13 years. Like, I get it girl. Hiroko is clearly attracted to Ayaka, not just physically but also emotionally, because Ayaka is everything Hiroko wants to be but can't. And that leads to Hiroko constantly underestimating Ayaka, even treating her like a child. She thinks Ayaka is not really thinking the gravity of her actions through, and she gets called out for that and has to overcome it. In the end, Hiroko ends up being a character that needs time, and needs to unlearn a whole bunch of shitty behaviour, something the show clearly also shows is being worked on and that Ayaka also respects (more on that later).

Risa: Easily the character I struggled with the most, Ayaka's best friend Risa is complicated. She's very observant but also shy, and secretly harbors a crush on Ayaka. Quietly struggling with her sexuality, she only decides to come out when she realises that Ayaka's feelings for Hiroko are serious. Oh, it's messy! She confesses to Ayaka, who in turn has to struggle with her feelings for someone else, but also not wanting to lose her closest confidant. And to her credit, Risa takes the rejection quite gracefully and continues to support Ayaka in her pursuit of Hiroko. However, Risa also outs Hiroko against her will to Ayaka, which... is just a shitty thing to do, even though she just wanted to help her friend. Good motive, still murder. After the conflict between Ayaka and Risa is resolved, Risa just kind of... is around, quietly worrying in her corner and kind of (in my opinion) overstepping her boundaries with Hiroko. I don't dislike Risa, but I thought her character was not done super well in parts, and although I understand the complicated situation she herself is in, the show doesn't really let her grow as much as the other characters. Anyway, good for her for bagging the hottest chick at the lesbian bar, though. Good for her!

The "break-up": The story's conflict comes to a peak when Hiroko finally realises there is only one way to shut this all down. She needs to fulfill Ayaka's desire, and then turn her down, once and for all. But Hiroko at this point still thinks Ayaka is immature and hasn't really thought her actions through. Ayaka sheepishly asks for a kiss, so Hiroko kisses her. "Now you've achieved everything you wanted." We're done, you can give up on me and this childish crush you have on me. And most importantly, I can let you go, too. Not realising that Ayaka wants much more. She wants a real relationship, she wants the kiss, sex, real emotions, she wants to see Hiroko's true self too. She wants a partnership.

The Finale: With the encouragement of her peers, Ayaka finds the courage to express her feelings to Hiroko one last time. And she finds just the right words to finally get through to her. Hiroko realises how much of an ass she's been all this time, how she ended up hurting the girl she loves and herself by denying herself happiness. This whole scene was so well done (Kudos to Kato Shiho as Ayaka, this is probably her best scene in the entire show), brother I cried so hard. And finally Hiroko can say what she should have a long time ago: "I'm sorry."

One year later: In the show's worst case of bad pacing, we immediately cut from their tearful reunion to "one year later", lol. I don't mind the sudden jump too much, but maybe a bit of a slower fade-out would have softened the blow, because I think a few people probably found this very jarring xD not too bad for me. I was actually positively surprised that we actually get to see the aftermath, see how their relationship has developed a year into it.

I've seen a few people complain about this "no-sex scene" (lol) and I just want to add my two cents. I actually really like how this scene played out, for two reasons. Reason 1 is that it's just very much in-character for Hiroko. We've seen her struggle back-and-forth with the intimacy Ayaka wanted from her for the past 7.5 episodes, and her own internalised homophobia and constant fear of "crossing the line". She's a traumatized person, and it makes total sense to me that even one year into the relationship, she's still struggling with sexual intimacy. Sure, a whole year is a long time not having sex with your partner (even though you both clearly wanted to from day 1) but like... it makes sense for Hiroko. She's still working through the past 10+ years of repression. I do understand how this scene can be interpreted as "the show is afraid to show them being horny and sexy together, they're cowards for making Hiroko so obsessed with Ayaka's "purity" etc" and like, yes, that is a totally valid interpretation, but IMO also a quite bad faith one.

"I'm happy to know you feel that way. Which is why, could you please wait a little more, just until I sort my feelings out?" "What?" "I want to cherish you, Ayaka." "Right." "I'm sorry for everything, Ayaka." "For everything?" "In the end, it seems like I still haven't came out yet. I understand that I'm making you endure something when you don't have to. But… I do want to be with you, and I want to keep my job. I'm really sorry for making you put up with my selfishness."

^ Like, that is the conversation that follows. It's not just about sex for Hiroko, that kind of intimacy holds a deeper meaning to her and she's just not ready for it yet, and trying to sincerely tell her partner that. And when Ayaka reaffirms her willingness to be patient in this scene and is respectful of Hiroko's choice, Hiroko realizes that she's being a stupid coward, and finally makes a decision...

... to come out in front of the whole office, who's been gossiping about their relationship the whole year anyway.

And that is the end of the show!

So really, Hiroko did manage to overcome her fears in the end, and it took her a whole year into a healthy relationship to do so. And I think that is honestly much more realistic than some people would like to believe. Is the smooch in front of the whole office silly and cheesy and over-dramatic? Of course, but that's the entire show so far. And if you think that kiss-and-dip is dumb then I can't help you, I think you just don't like fun.

Oh yeah, and my reason 2 why I thought that no-sex scene was done well is because it's just funny. Ayaka has been DTF since minute 1 of the show, and her still being unable to get it this far into it is just funny. I would have loved a little nod to them finally getting down at the very, very end, but eh, I can live with it like this. They've conquered the emotional hurdles, I'm certain they will cross that other bridge when they get there on their own time.

Conclusion: "Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko" is a great and incredibly funny lesbian show that touched me emotionally much more than I thought it would. It made me cry several times, the production and acting quality positively surprised me, and honestly deserves my Nr 2 spot of favourite Lesbian JDrama after Tsukutabe (which is a 10/10 show) for now. I really hope this type of show gets imitators, adapting relatively short stories into mini-series with great quality. I appreciate the more adult tone of this series, its shameless comedy while still being able to hit serious beats with real emotion. From what I've seen of the BTS, the actors and staff also handled the subject matter with respect and care and had a lot of fun making the show. I don't think a season 2 is needed, but I do hope that the series can inspire more similar works. I love Ayaka and Hiroko, and I'm so happy they got their happy ending, and by God, I hope they have the best sex ever in their beautiful lesbian future. God bless.

That's it from me, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this show as much as I did! Hopefully see you soon!

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 7 | stanley pines x f!reader 

summary: the fourth year of your life “married” to stanley pines, particularly concerning helping one another

warnings (TW): swearing, sexual themes (mdni 18+)

tags: fluff, affection, mutual-pining, sexual-situations (in act i), good ol’ protective-stan <3 

notes: me thinks me has big chapter coming up (pt. 8), me thinks i like to do things in fours (the last big chapter was 4). also did anyone notice that my sorry ass had to go back and change some dates/years womp womp but extra points if u didn’t notice my dumbass mistake. 

i think relationships are about being a total hypocrite at times also, like you are constantly trying to fight biases you have over yourself, and also trying to fight for the betterment of your partner also. like im a total hypocrite when it comes to my partner so i think this is another good chapter of what i like to call “flesh” 

that being said i have it sketched out in my journal that next chapter will be… important. hope you all enjoy, and as always love love love all the comments and notes and reblogs! thank you all so much, lots of love <3 (again, masterlist with the other chapters is linked down below!) 

word count: 5.1k

| masterlist | part viii |

“The kids will be gone for a while,” he says, hand slipping warm up her thigh. “How about we pretend it’s 1995, doll?” That slick smirk on his face, glasses drooping on his big hooked nose. 

She laughs. “1995? More like 2012, baby. It hasn’t been that long since you’ve tried to seduce me in the car.” 

He laughs too, hand pushing through his gray curling hair. Shifting in his seat to get closer and share his warmth. His covered thigh was hot against her own. She had laid out short sweatpants for him to put on that lazy Saturday with the kids when he made to walk out the front door in his boxers. Something she found endearing at their older age, the slip of his mind when it came to spending time with the kids. 

It’s darker out, their car the only one in the closed parking lot they had busted into. Mabel had been upset that day, after an altercation with another girl at the mini golf course. Her brother and Stan had almost been more upset for her, and they had rallied behind her in her need for revenge against her blonde foe. She had been upset as well and had a swell of choice words for the little rich girl's parents before Stan pulled her away.

So she had let it slide, the breaking and entering she was currently allowing the kids to do. That and Soos was with them. She trusted him more than he knew. 

They hadn’t been alone in a while, well except for their typical midnight trysts. They had to be more quiet, as of recent though. 

“Feels like a long time,” he hums, bringing his warm palm from her thigh to his cheek. “Come on… we have a bit here.” 

She looks up at him through her lashes, a flush to her face. “I wasn’t protesting.” 

He moves to her like he always does, distracted by the closing space between them. Curling his large palm around her cheek, kissing her like he knows her. 

He’s slick like usual also, smiling against her lips, creeping his hand to move her seat down so he has the high ground between the two of them. Something he loves to do. 

She’s laughing now, lounging back in the reclined seat. When had he reclined his own also?

But she’s pushing at his insistent chest, smiling at his slyness. Flushed below him, his torso hot against her front as his hand made itself comfortable on her cheek again, another on her waist. 

“No funny business Stan, the kids will be back soon and you know it.” 

“No funny business.” He says, pulling back to look at her soft face. His eyes drifting back to her lips once more. There's a breath between them, as they surge back and forth in the connecting space. Breathing heavy in the stretch between their lips, as she tries to chase him forward and he pulls back. His hand caresses her cheek, playing with the hair around the nape of her neck with his pinky. 

“Beautiful.” He whispers between them finally, breaking some spell he’s cast in the space amongst their breaths. It breaks something, when he finally surges forward, meeting her in the middle, at her insistence. 

It’s slow and building and grows hot between them. She tries to focus on many things at once about her lover, how his large hand cups her cheek, and jaw, and neck all at once. How he breathes heavy on top of her, warm against her front, but not against the most intimate part of her. How his lips move, move her, force her open and closed again. How his hand creeps up her waist to the sides of her chest, trailing hot upwards. 

Suddenly it’s not slow anymore, not after the noises she unconsciously makes, and not after his hand trails back to the seem of her shirt to pull it up, his palm warm against her chest now. She’s gasping now, nodding her head at his insistence. He moves instinctually, like how he does every time, but how it feels brand new and different also, when he shoves her bra down, cupping her exposed chest now. How his fingers are slight against the sensitive skin there, it all feels new each time. 

It has her moaning again, mouth open against his to create space, to create noise that bubbles at the base of her throat and sprouts between them. It has him throwing himself forward again, his hand tight against the junction of her jaw now, as he moves her lips and face to meet him again. To move against her again. 

His hand is warm on her front, slipping against her chest, his palm moving to massage her, twirling her bust between his large hot hand. He’s so warm and whole against her, that it has her moving, adjusting along the reclined seat sideways so more of him could be a part of her. Creating space, and area, for him to manipulate as he pleases. And it does please him. 

He’s fast along her lips now, and she does her best to keep up. Her hand gripping his hair, the other digging into the muscle of his broad shoulder, trying to bring him impossibly closer. But he wants to hear more of her, more from her. And he knows how to do it, moving from her mouth to her jaw to her throat, his mouth just as warm as the rest of him. Open mouth, breathy kisses follow in his wake until he makes for the junction of her throat and her shoulder. Kissing there just to hear her react, just to watch her squirm below him. Biting and kissing and lingering by her ear, groaning in her ear as she unknowingly cants into his lap at the tweak of his finger at her chest. 

“You’re so good to me.” His mouth hot over the junction of her throat, his hand heavy on the curve between her jaw and her pulse. “Always so fucking good for me, angel.” 

It serves to always rile her up more when he’s so honest with her like this. Something so simple as the truth has her disregarding her words from before, has her parting her legs and pulling him against the entirety of her as she searches for his lips again. He meets her in the middle of the heat of them, just as taken by her insistence, just as riled up by her enthusiasm for him to this day. 

It has him slightly pulling back though also, swearing as he pulls his button-up off his body. Smirking as he crumples it up to wedge under her hips, to have her pressing up against the heat of his lower body correctly. To ensure he could angle his own hips to meet her where she needed him. 

She’s flushed below him when he glances back up from his handy makeshift substitution for their usual orthopedic pillow. Breathing heavily against the seat of their car, her head almost leaning off the back of the reclined long bench. Her hair haloed around her head as she reached her hands back in front of her to drag him against her again. To feel his weight against her parted legs, her neck already crooked to allow his lips resurgence, her shirt around her chest crumpled from shifting her bra around his large palm. 

A knock. 

It shocks her awake, groggy in her bed, but not on her usual side. 

The wall is cold behind her, but the shoulder she's nestled into is hot beneath her cheek. Stanley slumbering, a slight snore building up in the back of his throat as his chest rises and falls under her hand. 

Right, Stan. 

She had taken to sleeping next to him, some nights. After the appearance of the shocking dream just last October, she continued to have flashes of odd frightful nightmares interspersedly between then and now. It had shocked them both awake several more times in those following months, as she called for him when she was deep within her subconscious. He never protested, never really asked before he would crawl into her bed during those occasions, shuffling her to her spot furthest from the door. 

Now they stuttered each night in the hall, held themselves together in the shadow of each other's doorways before bed. He’d look down at her those nights, at her dark circles and wrinkled pajamas. A question on his tongue every night. A silent ask, if she would need him that night. He would come if she called. 

She could almost sense when one would creep into her mind most nights now, like an instinctual correlation to her overworking herself. So some nights she’d grasp his hands in the shadows in the hallway and drag him to her room. Something he didn’t comment on, the one thing between them he didn’t joke about. 

On other nights they would separate, his lips would linger on her hairline after whispering goodnight to her to leave for his empty room. But those nights seemed far and few in between her need to have him close now, because the dreams were all but fleeting with him close for some reason. She listed off the benefits of co-sleeping somewhere in the back of her head before slipping away most nights, reasoning out her need for him. 

It explained his presence below her now, how she was folded into the junction of his shoulder and his outstretched arm. How her hands had made a home in his warm chest. But it didn’t really explain the dream, one that she had never had of that nature. 

It made something stir in the back of her mind, made her think of his lingering breath now and how it felt so real in the dream, shepherded in the crook of her neck. How he felt on top of her, the way he fell into the junction of her parted legs. How it had her shifting her own legs now, unconsciously trying to get closer to him now. 

She knew he was attractive. There were things endearing about his personality, things that made her think after laughter, and her heart swell when he got close. But he was, physically, quite attractive to her also. The curl of his hair, the smirk of his lips, of course. But also his broad arms, and large palms. The swell of his lower stomach, the patch of hair below his belly button, the parting of his legs when he sat on the couch. It really wasn’t surprising that she had such a dream about him, not surprising at all. She quite… enjoyed it. Which is why she let her hands linger on him even now, creeping up his shirt to rest on the rise of his lower stomach. To seep in some of that warmth, to try to remember the weight of him above her. 

But she had also dreamed of the kids again. 

She tried to keep note of what she could remember of them. Of pink sweaters and braces and smatterings of freckles that looked like constellations. It faded again though, as she rested against his rising chest. Lulled back to sleep by his steady breaths against her.

June, 1986 

He pulled himself from work that day so they could wander around town and inevitably regretted it once they hit Main Street. 

She had found it amusing that they had stumbled into some sort of reenactment of the 1830s, something he had found joy in, his hands drifting from his pockets to her own hands. But something he was now more than a little frustrated by, watching her giggle every time an old-fashioned dressed-up reenactor passed them by, every man tipping their tophats in her general direction. 

It had him almost fuming, honestly. That they could have his Doc’ blushing and giggling at every turn with ease. His hand had drifted again, pulling her closer to his side as they made their way from booth to booth at this god-forsaken Pioneer Day festival. 

She was distracted by homemade candies at their current booth. Calling his attention and dragging him closer to show him the assortment of sweets she wanted to share with him. Until the booth-keep approached them, his goddamn hat tipped at his Doc’. 

“What can I do for ya miss?” The slightly older gentleman asked politely, taking his tall hat off in the presence of her. 

She giggled again, of course. Glancing back at his flushed form, before glancing back at the clerk about to answer. 

“It’s missus, actually, ya schmuck.” He had to open his mouth. Almost like he couldn’t help it, something bubbling below the surface, his fist clenched defensively at his side, the other still balled up around her waist. 

She seemed slightly shocked at his infringement, flushing embarrassed at his side. He didn’t even think of apologizing, especially when she looked like that. 

“Apologies, sir!” The clerk said, glancing between the assumed couple. “Your lady here needs some assistance, yes?” 

“Wife, pal. My wife.” 

Stuttering, waving away Stan’s charged statement, the poor clerk is crimson in front of them in the July heat and under the scrutiny of a man who is on his last leg with the current fair he finds himself at. 

She seizes the moment, turning back to Stan to push his chest back away and out of the stall, throwing a quick apology over her shoulder in their hasty retreating wake. 

It had been absurdly endearing, how annoyed Stan was all day. It wasn’t easy to derail the man, from what she knew of him. So she had reveled in his apparent annoyance all day. Weirdly protective of the space they took up on the walkway through the fair, trying to shield her from the polite tipping of hats which was custom to do, she figured. Something the reenactors did rather flippantly and without thought. But something that had grated at her partner all day, despite that. So stubbly angry at the gesture that no one else but he thought twice about. 

She had let it continue throughout the day though, and had giggled at how his hand had made for her own, and migrated to her waist sometime during the day when he grew more aptly agitated. A protective hand on her, and when she looked back at him, his face was always a grimace. His usual glare directed solely at the men who would greet her on the street. 

The vendor apparently, had been the last straw. After the poor man hadn’t acknowledged Stan’s presence, in favor of helping and doting on her. Probably a good sales tactic, something Stan knew about also, but something he was blinded by in the moment. Annoyed at being ignored despite bearing down at anyone from her shadow along her back. 

They had enough for today though, she thought, pulling him farther down the street back to the parking lot at the end of Main Street, so they could find their car and head home. She doubted he would want to come back to the yearly Pioneer Days, but she’d try to drag him back each coming year. Reveling at his protective hold, giggling at his flushed face as he declared her as his to everyone who would listen. 

November, 1986

She found him up late, in his office that night. 

He had made a space in a random room on the first floor, close to the kitchen. One of those rooms they had both disregarded and initially put the swell of Ford’s belongings in.

But she had helped him clean it back out a couple of years ago when he opened their home turned tourist trap. Helped anyway he would allow, actually, which was more or less going through old research papers piled high and picking out a nice desk from the flea market to situate in front of the south-facing window. He had moved around just about everything else. 

The walls were still bare in his office, and he had filled the room with some of his old knick-knacks and newspaper clippings he had a tendency of keeping from the comics and punchline sections of the local paper. The ones that made her laugh. That and odd stacks of magazines from jewelers he liked. 

He had been unable to help her downstairs that day, something she did not begrudge him of, especially seeing him now bent over his desk, with his hands catching in his hair. She had called him for dinner, but when he didn’t answer or come within ten minutes she found herself wandering to his office with their dinner in hand. His office door was wide open, as it always was when it was just the two of them. She knocked despite this. 

“Stan?” She asks, balancing steaming plates of food in both hands. “Do you need help with anything?” 

“No, hun.” His head shot up, a smile blooming on his face, but his eyes were weary still from squinting at money margins for the last couple of hours. 

She makes her way closer, plopping his plate right in front of him on the desk, disregarding the odd papers he had spread out all over its surface. She leans herself on the desk, holding her own plate up so she could simply eat where she stood.

“Doesn’t look like it.” She says, pitching her head back to the mess on his desk. 

He’s almost too worked up to eat, not that he’d let her know that. He’d been wrangling around money all day, trying to equate the sum of the last couple of months’ tours into this month's mortgage payment. Something he struggled with last season also, but something he’d gotten worse at hiding from her despite his best efforts. She overworked herself enough as is, he didn’t want this on her plate alongside everything else. 

She did her best to handle the mess he had made downstairs, and he did his best to take care of her. Because she deserved that, after all she’s done for him. Given him four years, put up with his bullshit for four years after his four-second mistake of pushing his brother into another dimension. 

But looking up at her now, watching the darkness from the fall season outside seep in through the window. How she tilted her head down, leaned onto his desk, and basically plopped on top of the hardwood she had picked out herself. She made no indication of regret, in all four years.

Still, something tugs at him, he wanted to be the one to provide in this aspect. Something deep, once hallow in him, something his father had tried to teach him in his old ways. About how to take care of your wife, about how he needed to provide. 

But they were standing in a shell of a house, one that he could not even logically claim as his own. And he wanted to give her more. To celebrate during the holidays without pinching pennies, to give her gifts during these colder winter months, like he remembers his father doing for his mother. To get her those new throw blankets she eyes up at the craft store, to get her that new red pot she says reminds her of her grandmother. It made him feel more like a failure, set something deep in him, that he couldn’t give her some of those things while she so willingly gave him four years.

She wouldn’t relent though, because as determined as he was to take care of her in this semblance, she was just as eager to do the same for him. Something that always made him lean into her, had his hand finding hers instinctually nowadays. Something that no one has done for him since Ford, someone having his back. 

So he tells her anyway because she's smart. Knowing to lean up on his desk like that and bring him food to ply him from his leather desk chair and make him concede in his problems. Something all-knowing about her like usual, something perhaps ingrained in her. 

He leans forward, scooping up food to shovel into his mouth. Maybe he was hungry after all. “I’m having some trouble balancing some books.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“Means I’m short.” Fisting some of his hair in his fist, mumbling around his food. “Holiday season, I’m always strapped for cash.” 

She hums, a fold forming in the ridge of her brows. She takes a moment, leaning farther into his desk, dinner half gone on her plate already. “You?” 

“What?” 

“You, Stan?” She sighs, suddenly looking tired in front of him. Frustrated with something, at the very least.  

He shrugs at her, turning away from her suddenly harsh gaze. But she won’t let him turn from her anymore. She finishes her dinner, discarding her plate farther away on the corner of his desk, reaching over his papers and piles to switch on the shaded desk lamp they also scrounged for. 

She sighs again, situating herself completely in front of him now. Leaning back against his desk again, basically sitting on the papers and books that were causing him strife not even ten minutes ago. His dinner is half cold on his plate now, situated on his own lap as he slumps back in his chair. His eyes move back to her instinctually now that she’s in front of him. The lamp light shining on her frustrated visage. 

“Stan.” She humphs, leaning forward, crowding him into his chair. “You? Just you?” 

Realizing his mistake, his shepherding of problems, continuing to shield them as his own despite him internally admitting he should at least voice them aloud. 

But it’s hard to admit defeat in this aspect, hard to concede control over something she thought so flippantly of as money. It was deeper than that, deeper than the mortgage of course. It was something he had left home in search of, something he still grasped for, and something he had buried asking for help with when he was merely eighteen years old.

His desires had somehow changed and shifted though. The warped image he had of his father, how it had become distorted in the face of his new desires. Desires that looked more and more like her these days. And it was just something he wouldn’t admit defeat to, couldn’t admit defeat. Because then what good was he to her? 

So he stands behind his own stupid idea of self-actualization. Despite it being weak in the shadow of her frustration. “Yes… just me.” 

“No.” 

“No?” He scoffs. “Yes. Just me, only me.” 

“Since when.” 

“Since this was all my fault.” He says, his own frustration pulling him up in his chair. Food forgotten and pushed aside on his desk in favor of getting closer to her. Never yelling, always explaining. And he wouldn’t and couldn’t yell if he was sitting ramrod straight in front of her. He didn’t have it in him, had no desire to watch her crumble like that. “This whole thing, all of it.” Waving his hands around, trying to emphasize the large capacity of the bullshit he had walked them both into. 

She shakes her head. “No, Stan.” He’s unbelievable at his worst, and charming at his best. But his unbelievable was becoming more mounting with every year. And some convoluted part of her mind had reasoned that it actually all hinged on her now. Thinking of that crumpled paper, and that coded string of words Stanford had left her. How he had been right about her all along, how she hadn’t even been smart enough to drag him out of his own hubris. 

“Don’t say it’s fucking yours.” He scoffs, leaning more into her. Placing his hands on her warm thigh, trying to ground her in her thoughts. 

“But it is. It’s my fault.” Choking around what she had believed to be true for the past four years. “I’m not smart enough to bring him back.” 

He surges in his seat, standing in front of her now. Shaking his head as he reaches for her. Folding her in his arms like he always does, her head balanced in the crook of his neck, humming along to soothe her like always. “That’s the farthest thing from true.” 

“But he’d be back! He s-should be back by now…” Voicing her frustration, it echoed around his chest to his ear. She’s warm in her frustration, her hands curling not around him, but up him. Finding the crook in his chest to rest them in. “And you wouldn’t be so stressed… you wouldn’t have to worry about the mortgage if he was here. We wouldn’t have to be here, it’s my f-fault he’s not here yet. It’s why I’ve been down there so often. W-why I hate when you say that.” 

She had confided herself to the basement almost indefinitely since their second year of cohabitation. More recently, it had kept her up routinely at night. First, it would drag her from her sleep, had her wandering down steep steps in the dark of the night in only her pajamas. Now it followed her into her dreams, seeping into her mind, taunting her of a far-off future she could only conjure up in her sleep. One where she succeeded. One where Stan still stood steady by her side, a gold band on his finger. It made her sick, and she knew she had been troubled by all of it for over a year now. 

He had known reasonably, that the reason for her lingering in the dark basement was for some sort of self-validation, something he could never fault her for. But he could fault himself for not dragging her into the light more often, for not being more worried about her pailing complexion and her dark-set eyes. It did worry him, it tugged him from doorway to doorway at night, made him more vigilante in the dark. But he had been so twisted in worrying about providing as of recent, he had forgotten the object of his adoration was weathering away under the weight of her own self-destruction. 

It was hard to let go of that part of his control, of what he felt was his own duty. But he knew there suddenly, looking down at her dark circles, and the way she curled up, looking so small against his chest. Knew that they’d both have to set aside some ingrained biases because in the end, they were both hypocrites. And he didn’t want her to become a mirror image of him in her grief. 

So he sighs, letting his warm hands cradle the back of her. Letting them run through her hair, letting him continue to hum. “I don’t want you to say that ever again because it ain’t true.” 

She sniffs, still goo in his hands. “You too.” She hiccups. 

He won't ever voice it to her again, he swears somewhere in the back of his mind. But it’ll linger for years, the fault in him. “Okay.”

Another beat, another adjustment from her before he voices anything again. “We both gotta help each other.” 

She nods against him, suddenly looking up at him with a weird amusement in her eyes. “Go team, remember?” 

He chuckles, “Yeah, hun. Go team.” 

She hums, finally pulling away from him and taking her warmth with her. Still folded up in front of him, her hands still in that space along his chest. Fisted in his shirt, wrinkled under her grief. 

“I can help with the money.” She says, a smile beginning to grow on her face. 

“And I can help with the portal.” He nods, his hands finding her shoulders, cupping up towards her neck. 

They congregated on the couch that night, discussing a new schedule between them. Something that would hopefully piece her back together, maybe not back to what she was all those years ago bursting in through the front door. She wasn’t herself then either, he reasoned. And it struck him then, with her curled in on the couch, still folded into the junction of his arm, her fingers tracing his palm as she finally breathed even against him. 

She looks most endearing, most like some glimpse of herself, someone he doesn’t quite know yet when she’s kneeled down talking to those kids on their back-lit porch. Halloween had come and gone again and it struck him, like it does every June and October. 

It twists into an idea in his mind, flips his stomach at the idea. Leaks into visions of her in front of the chalkboard downstairs, how she spoke of complex things in fragments for him to digest. How she paces around her chalkboard, spinning new ideas for him to consume. It came easy to her, teaching him, and he had the thought that she just might be the best he’d ever met in all his years. 

“What about teaching?” He hums, twirling his fingers around for her to continue to play with. 

She hums. “I’d be gone a lot of the day.” 

“And I’d miss ya.” He concedes. “But you need this.” He admits, leaning his chin on her head. She needed to get away from the portal, distance herself, and find a bit of life outside of what he had tied her into. 

“And you.” She glances up at him, a smile on her lips finally. Her breath warm against him. And he did, he’d admit. He needed her help with it all. But only if in doing so it helped her, too. Because he'd concede the weight of what he called duty if it shook that warped image of his father. He wanted to prove himself to her, only.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[8:59 pm]

(cw: f! reader, age gap, consumption of alcohol)

The bar you were in was very loud and crowded. The booth you, your friends, Jaehyun, and your friend's partners had squeezed into was even more crowded. Jaehyun was lucky enough to have scored a seat at the end of the bench which was good because he wasn't squished, but that also meant he only had one leg in the booth and half an ass cheek on the bench.

He was happy to join you and your friends for an evening out. He liked watching you have fun and be carefree with your friends. He liked hearing all the drama you'd all discuss, all the drama about people you hated and updates on your lives. Jaehyun wasn't even ashamed to admit he liked what you wore on these outings. You always wore the cute little dresses he'd buy you because you wanted to"show off what good taste your man had."

Now, there was only so much your little dress could do to distract him from the tiredness seeping in. He was tired of not being able to hear clearly, tired of the awful stuffy smell, the numb feeling that was beginning to form in his leg. But he didn't want to ruin your time out, so he slyly pulled out his phone to text you.

Are you almost ready to go?

The phone on your lap lit up and Jaehyun's eyes widened while his eyebrows furrowed. Something couldn't be right. He couldn't be seeing what he thought he was seeing. That couldn't be him.

He sent another text, just to make sure he was hopefully wrong. A simple heart emoji. And again the screen facing up lit up with the god awful contact name.

Sugar daddy.

His mind was reeling, he didn't even notice you turning to look at him expectantly, blinking your pretty, long lashes up at him. "Jae?"

He hummed, his eyes glazed over, "Yeah, baby?"

"Are you ok?" You ask, placing a reassuring hand on his arm.

He blinks, shaking his head slightly, his arm falls around your shoulder, dragging his fingertips up your bare back softly. He leans in, his lips brushing your ear, "Why is my contact name Sugar daddy on your phone, baby?"

Your eyes widen in surprise, "it's a joke!"

You quickly say goodbye to all your friends, pulling on Jaehyun's arm until you're both outside where it's more quiet. He pulls you closer by your waist, "I was under the impression that a sugar daddy was an older man who gave girls an allowance in exchange for... favors."

"Well, you don't give me money but you buy me a ton of gifts. You bought me the dress I'm wearing right now. You do receive favors," you repeat with air quotes, "and you are older than me. By your own standards, you are a sugar daddy."

"I was born in 1997! I'm not even that much older than you!" Jaehyun laughs in shock.

"That is a whole other millennium Jaehyun, the year starts with nineteen," you reply with a gentle squeeze on the arm.

He pinches your side, "you're making me sound like some kind of cradle robber. The age difference isn't that much."

You look at him with a serious expression, "is this really bothering you? I meant it as a joke, but I can change it if it really bothers you."

"It just surprised me," he waves off, "but if you want to change it to something else be my guest. I've been thinking of a few options. First, love of my life, hottest man alive, baby, pretty boy. You know, I saw one of your friends has her situationship under best in bed."

You clasp a hand over his mouth, "You like going out with the girls too much. You listen too much for a man."

-

a/n: *whispers* hey, you’re getting fratboy jaehyun tomorrow. also pls feel free to send me his most frayboy-like pictures because I feel like I’ve used every single one on pinterest already

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - I hand out a couple of high scores & have qualms about pairs

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top. I didn't get many screen shots this week, so welcome to a WALL OF TEXT. Duh duh duh dum.

July 2024 Week 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

We Are Cute (Weds iQIYI) ep 16 fin - TanFang are ridiculous but I have grown to truly love them. ChainPun at the end made me hoot with laughter everyone was a meme of FINALLY. In fact, I loved all the pairs, this was a great ensemble piece.

I was left mildly wondering if Arm will ever lead a BL. 

All in all? 

I really enjoyed this show. It was slow to find its stride (I didn’t get into it until ep 7) but I’m very glad I gave it a chance. It’s a soft ensemble piece with multiple couples and very little plot, but I didn’t care because it’s not trying to be anything more substantial. Essentially this was a series of vignettes covering one year of uni for a queer friendship group finding love, new friends, and laughter. It’s not being harsh with us or it’s characters the way some offerings of this ilk have been (side eyes Friend Zone and Only Friends) nor did it tumble into Gen Y chaos. In fact, this reminded me more than anything of a refined and elevated Love Sick - just with older characters and occurring within a genre that has matured too. It has that close queer friendship group meets earnest gentleness that made me adore Love Sick so much. In other words, this was Thai BL at its finest, finding it roots again 10 years on, but also stretching upwards and showing us what it could do with that original seed. So? I loved it. Did it blow my mind? No. But it left me smiling and made me belly laugh quite a bit. 9/10

Technically it should probably get an 8/10 - too much singing, but I’m bubbling over with nostalgia rn.

Wandee Goodday (Sat YT) ep 12 fin - I struggled to watch that fight. But that’s because it was so well done for a BL. Lots of speeches this ep. (I said too cheesy right before Dee did.)

I like Drake & Title as a new ship. Hope it sails. Also some decent ace rep. 

On a totally different note: Good use of frosting. But… you know I’m gonna say it… NO SINGING. 

Final thoughts:

What a FUN show. A charming quintessentially modern Thai BL about a doctor and a boxer who start as a one night stand and then fall in love. Great rep for everything from Muay Thai, to safe sex, to FUN sex, to ace, to bisexuality, to smiley kisses, to the first legal gay wedding in a Thai BL. It’s a delight and I enjoyed (almost) every single moment of it. 

An easy 9/10. 

I do hope we get more GreatInn.

The Rebound (Weds Gaga) eps 7-8 of 12 - So Ryu’s ma is evil? And Frank is giving me serious second lead syndrome. Also he’s been working out a lot. I noticed my dude, thank you. I don't think we've ever gotten this kind of focus on a side dish before. The show is in dangerous territory, since he's so good he's taking attention away from the leads. Also, I think Zen is completely aware of what is going on with this love triangle, he just doesn’t want to put up with their nonsense. I even like the cute side crumbs. 

On a complete aside: why are crime lords in BL always in bathtubs? Asking for… the other genres. Wouldn’t it be hilarious if The Godfather entirely took place in bathtubs? A Real Man has a large… tub. 

And we end with mass murder? WOW! Chaotically played my dearest pulp! 

Century of Love (Weds Gaga) eps 3-4 of 10 - These boys are playing complicated roles with lots of layers to them. Daou is doing a great job. We can see the old man inside this kid. Offroad... I’m not convinced, he’s chewing the scenery a bit. I actually think he has the more layered and complicated part to play. So I'm giving him a chance to subtly show that cheerful façade fracturing with delicacy. But I worry we may be back in JamFilm territory where one partner can’t quite keep up with the other's skillz.

All of this is to say, this is still a better acted piece than I was expecting. (Although the surrounding cast and special effects are doing our leads no particular favors.)

It’s hugely enjoyable but uneven (with those occasional injections of slapstick humor) I’m not entirely sure the production knows what it wants to be. I wish it had the courage of its convictions to lean into the “I feel you linger in the air” aesthetic. Now that I know Thailand can go there, I’m a bit annoyed when a show like this, which should, doesn’t. Which is not to say I’m not enjoying it. I am. A lot. Just that I should probably lower my expectations. Daou, however, is so damn good, he keeps getting my hopes up.

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 3 of 8 - Oh no we have a lonely poor little rich boy. Catnip character for @heretherebedork. Meanwhile, I’m liking the layers of the main romance, with everybody having hidden agendas and such. Nice tension. Of course I love the eroticism around smells. One of my favorite tropes. But I’m not sure I buy the relationship chemistry between the leads when this much lying is going on. 

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 7 of 12 - I am growing to love Fourth's version of this character. He’s so frantic and confused, but in a completely different way from the JBL. It’s a bit more whiny and a bit less cartoonish. But it resonates with me more. He's less of a meme tho. The photo moment! I literally squealed, "Gah!!! They are so cute!"

Linguistic moment. Did you hear in the cupcake section that Half went to rao/ter? Very sweet. (The boys use rao/nai.)

Also, yay for the twist on the school counselor character! Best thing ever. I would like the entire story of Nop & Sin GMMTV, please and thank you. Also… NO SINGING. 

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 6 of 12 - I’m continuing to enjoy this a lot. It’s a fun cast. A touch twee for me, and I’m really hoping they amp up something other than the romance soon, but I don't mind ending my week with these two.

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 3 of 12 - I'm enjoying this show so much, just not as a BL (yet). It’s honest to the internship experience of overwhelm (such as I recall, it's been A WHILE). I’m not sure how much BL I’m getting from it thus far. I mean our leads shared a long glance or two but that’s about it. It’s very slow burn. But I don’t mind that since I’m liking the surrounding stuff. Can't stand the girlfriend intern character tho. I hope she get redeemed.  Or killed.

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 6 of 10 - Halfway through I had already finished my drink out of sheer boredom.  Trash watch here.

Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) ep 9 of 12 - Frankly I’m finding this relatively dull right now. Lovely kisses tho. Best and Seng are great together, consummate BL pros, not a pair I had on my bingo card. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - I like how much we can see K’s intense liking and emotional need for this loud broken kid. And how easy it is for him to admit to that truth. Because what he’s going through is so much worse than admitting to having feelings. The acting is fantastic. Sometimes I forget how great Japan can be. And then they decide to remind me. Oh, it’s SO GOOD. 

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - Another one I’m finding boring. Just japan’s version. The vintage yaoi “old dude creep trope” I see. It’s been a while. 

It's airing but...

Meet You at the Blossom - it's your funeral (or, more likely, one of the main characters'). You can argue but... statistics. You know my feelings on this matter. MY BLOG, remember?

GIF by mypotatokun

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer released to Korean theaters 5/25. HoTae & DongHee, side couple from Unintentional Love Story are back! Same actors, same character names. I love them. Devastated this hasn't had international distribution. I demand you tell me the moment you find it!

The Last Time (Thai Fri YT) - Got bumped to Aug 2. Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

July Releases Still To Come

7/24 I Saw You in My Dream (Thai Weds Gaga) - Dee Hup is behind this one so I have high hopes. Younger boy chronically teased his whole life by the older boy next door suddenly starts having horrific prophetic dreams about his bully and must save him.

7/26 4 Minutes (Thai Netflix or iQIYI?) - Great, a rich boy studying business at uni, suddenly gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future.

7/29 Battle of the Writers (Thai ????) - trailer here, TutorYim return, and while I adore them, I really hope this is better than Middleman's Love. Won't be hard. However: the premise? Ugh. Something something authors fighting - save me. Why don't writers understand that nothing is more boring than writers?

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

No time this week, I'm having computer issues.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in it's infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

There's these tricks, remember.

[thrashyraccoon]

Jealous Guy (Jealous!Eddie Munson x Reader)

___________________________________________

Summary: Another guy starts hanging around you at work and Eddie is concerned about it.

___________________________________________

You and Eddie have been together for a year and have known each other for two years since you moved to Hawkins. You met in high school, but you've already graduated and work at one of the few grocery stores in town, which Eddie is struggling to finish his senior year. Your relationship is still going very well, as it was at the beginning, but now the boy had reasons to be jealous. A nondescript Harry started hanging around your workplace, or more precisely you. A guy five years older with short blonde hair who wears leather almost 24/7. Of course, Eddie had never seen him. He heard that description from you because you told him about Harry, that he was nice and loved metal as much as Eddie. Then the boy thought to himself "it's cool, I won't forbid my partner from talking to customers in the store. Until he met one of your shift colleagues while picking you up from shift." Be careful, young, a certain guy comes up too often during your girlfriend's shifts. " He heard from a middle-aged woman in a work T-shirt, blond, medium curly hair, currently smoking a cigarette during her five-minute break, which usually lasted forever. And that's when fear and jealousy appeared in the boy. If he says she's a woman who ignores everything that's going on around her (including angry customers), so there must be something to it. A week has passed since the previous information and Eddie couldn't be bothered about it. He really hated being jealous of you and didn't want to be with you to argue about this guy. Eddie knew you loved him, but what if you realized he wasn't a good match for you after all and started dating Harry. After all, you were young, you had just finished school, many dreams were still ahead of you. And he? He couldn't even pass school, twice. So, not wanting to start a misunderstanding, he decided to drive over to your workplace after school, when you still had a few hours before your shift started, to meet the employee he talked to last week.

…

Boy got deya vu. Just like that time, a bored blonde was standing in front of the store door, smoking her cigarette. "Hey, can we talk? I have a case." said Eddie, who was glared at by the woman in response. After a second, however, she returned to her previous activity. “It's about the guy who hangs around y/n.”

This time, without even looking at the metalworker, the employee extended her hand towards him, gesturing for him to give her the cash.

"I have 5 dollars on me," he took out a bill, which she took literally in less than a second and put it in her cleavage.

"He often comes for a Marlboro and they reheat the pizza, it's usually when your partner is there. They always talks eachother" She said, taking another puff of the cigarette

"I know that he's coming. Do you know what they're talking about?" The blonde once again made the payment gesture. The boy took out cash and gave the woman "I have $3 more."

"He hangs around and that I've heard him compliment twice, but y/n seems unfazed by it. You don't have to worry about it."

On the one hand, the metalhead breathed a sigh of relief after this statement because he knew that his partner was not going to leave him for someone else, but on the other hand, he lost $8 irretrievably because of this information. However, he didn't feel confident about the fact that his lover was surrounded by a other guy. For peace of mind, he decided to talk to you about it without any secondary conclusions."

"Thanks so much for the information."

"No problem. Now get out of here or you're disrupting my shift, shaggy."

…

A day has passed since the conversation with your supervisor. Eddie was sitting on the bed in his room planning the next d&d campaign for next Friday since we had nothing to do until you got back from your noon shift. Just then, the boy heard the front door open and Uncle Wayne's voice announcing that "Eddie's in his room." The bedroom door opened, but the metal man didn't bother to look who came in because he knew full well it was you.

“Hi Eds,” you said, giving the boy a kiss on his full head of hair. After a while, you placed a few patches on the bed your boyfriend occupied, and the boy immediately looked at them out of curiosity.

"Thank you babe." He said, reaching for the first one on the bank, caressing it between his fingers. "Oh cool, Black Sabbath. Where are you from?"

"I got it from Harry, he said he didn't need it."

After that sentence, a confused Eddie fell silent and threw away the patch. The feeling of jealousy came to the fore again. He had to be sure now.

"Hey, what's going on?" You said, looking worriedly at your boyfriend as you sat on the edge of his bed.

"Honey, will you be honest with me?"

"Always with you, Eds."

"Do…do you like Harry?" In response, he heard quite loud laughter, but not loud enough to wake up the neighbors around him. "Babe, I'm serious!"

You decided to keep a straight face and answer him with complete honesty "Eds, honey, for me he's just a friend with whom I talk when he comes over. In fact, he tries to flirt with me, but to no avail. Anyway, first of all, I told him that I have a boyfriend, and secondly, Harry isn't even my type, he looks like the lead singer of Judas Priest-"

"Good, now I have no chance at all with him!!!" The metal man shouted, cutting you off by dramatically slamming his weight onto the bed.

Watching with amusement, you decided to continue your statement, moving closer to Eddie, "Eds, I prefer guys with Van Halen looks…"

"There's still some Eddie Van Ha-" hanging around! He continued to dramatize until he felt a tap on his shoulder, "Ouh, baby, for what?"

"You're the guy with the Van Halen look, idiot!"

After Eddie analyzed the statement for a moment, the only thing he managed to choke out was a sound of understanding.

"Besides, even if Van Halen came in here, I wouldn't leave you for him, stupid," you said, giggling slightly, then brought your hands closer to Eddie's face and gave him a quick kiss on the lips and hugged him. "I think you and Harry should get to know each other."

"You know, honey, this is actually a good idea." He replied, hugging you closer to him. “It's time to explain that you don't flirt with other people-ouh,” he stopped after you smacked him lightly on the forehead a second time, this time.

"No fighting in the store, Eds!"

"I know, I know," Eddie said, laughing, "Just kidding, sweetheart."

[leewritestoomuch]

hiiii!! sorry if this is kinda specfic but could i rq neji and gaara + anyone else you would like with a reader (romantic or close friends type thing, up to you!!) that grew up with older siblings (a kind of big-ish age gap? like they were around 8 or so when the reader arrived) and the reader + their siblings are all competitive over ANYTHING, so they love to rub it into each other alot (like a "heyyy big sib, remember when i beat you in a match of rock paper scissors and you promised me hotpot? well i want to cash in my reward now") just like a 'healthy' siblings dynamic, they aren't scared of inviting [insert character] into these little games, cause they just want them to let loose a little,,, so kind of just fluff, kind of like character getting to know s.o/readers family outside of formalities or important clan thingies,,,,

Neji and Gaara (separately) with a reader who has Older Siblings

More specifically, a healthy relationship with those siblings.

Neji Hyuga

He’s just a little jealous.

He admires your dynamic with your older siblings

The way you all bicker, compete over food, etc.

And especially the way you all have each other’s backs. Your older siblings, despite being quite a bit older than you, might bicker with you like your close in age, but they have the clear older sibling role.

All of them protect you. (Like how they all warned him not to hurt you. He won’t, but he admittedly was scared)

He keeps his distance from all of you when you’re bickering or competing though because he made the mistake of not doing so once, and he blinked and suddenly he was in the middle of a food fight…

He pretends not to hear you when you ask him to defend you, because he’s not getting involved and used as collateral.

If all of you decide to go out to eat and purposely seek him out to go with you all because he’s “part of the family,” he will be so happy (inwardly, he doesn’t show it)

He ends up involved in random games you all play together, usually as your partner in those games. He’s tired, but he’s so grateful.

Gaara of the Sand

Reminds him of his older siblings once he recovered and amended their relationships.

He’s glad you’ve always at that support system. He knows how important it is and how nice it is.

You have a much larger gap with your siblings than he does with his siblings though, so he wonders how you guys have anything in common at first. It’s hard to see how somebody 8 years older than you would share your interests or hobbies or anything really.

There is a rather large gap between him and Temari and they get along fine though, so he takes to just watching you and your siblings from afar.

He notices how you all bicker and argue. You’re clearly competing, but you’re laughing.

Any mean comments are taken lightly and don’t go too far.

He finds himself smiling.

Until he’s being dragged by the wrist to split some sort of tie. He’s startled, but goes along with y’all and tries to help.

If your siblings ever refer to him as family, his eyes will light up. He’s so happy to be included.

[iamderp07]

Meet Eddie Dear's Family! These are my new Welcome Home Original Characters (WH OCs) that I created based on Eddie Dear, one of my favorite WH characters! It took me a while to finish them, but I'm happy to have them out of my head!

Some Dear Siblings HeadCanon/Fanon Facts down below 🤣👇

1. Their parents are Elizabeth and Eddison Dear. Beth is from Texas, and Edd is from Louisiana.

2. Emmett is the oldest among the three Dear siblings, and Eddie is the youngest. Ellie is the middle child and the one and only daughter of Beth and Edd (All of them are equally loved, don't worry 😆🤣👍).

3. Emmett is 8 years older than Eddie, while Ellie is 4 years older than Eddie.

4. Eddison and Emmett work at the family-owned hardware shop, with Emmett often handling deliveries using his truck. Beth works at the family post office, where she used to work alongside Eddie. Meanwhile, Ellie owns a diner that was passed down from her grandparents.

5. The Dear siblings all have mitten like hands! Though Ellie has more feminine ones. Perfect for hugging their friends, neighbors, partners, and of course each other!

6. Eddie frequently stays connected with his family through phone calls and mail. ☎️📬

And I like to think that they've added a personal touch to their letters by using custom designed letters, each serving as a unique signature from every family member.

7. Emmett inherited his name from their great-grandfather on their mother's side, while Ellie and Eddie's names were derived from their parents' names - a shortened and endearing version:

Elizabeth - Ellie

Eddison - Eddie

8. Ellie and Eddie talk a lot about their day via phone call-A LOT. During late-night conversations, they end up talking for hours. Eddie often shares a lot with her about Frank, and she loves listening to her brother gush about him.

9. Emmett and Eddie also talk via phone, where Emmett tends to let Eddie take the lead in the conversation. There are times when Emmett ends up dozing off but still holds onto the phone.

10. During calls and when together, Emmett assists Eddie in managing his forgetfulness, much like their father. Emmett provides advice and solutions, especially when he notices Eddie in need of help or feeling troubled. Ellie also contributes in a similar supportive manner.

11. Eddie and Ellie are often mistaken for twins based on their looks and close sibling bond. Ellie actually gets flattered whenever someone mentions this because it makes her feel younger.

12. Among the three siblings, Ellie and Eddie have shared a close bond since childhood (probably because of the short age gap and since Emmett works a lot with their Pa). Despite Emmett being the more reserved and stoic one, all three of them have a good sibling relationship.

13. Emmett is usually fine with receiving hugs but occasionally gives one.

14. Emmett's instrument of choice is the guitar, while Ellie likes to play the harmonica. Eddison bought Ellie her own harmonica for her 12th birthday, and she has always carried it around with her since then.

15. Ellie and Emmett had their Mailman/Mailwoman phase.

16. Ellie is lesbian while Emmett just assumes he is cisgender. He wrong, he is actually bisexual ufhsjgkxxjgz

17. Ellie is like the second mom of the family.

18. At some points during the year, Eddie heads back to his hometown to visit his family.

19. Ellie has a terrible fear of heights.

20. One of the reasons why Eddie has a fear of bugs is probably because of Ellie.

21. Emmett would bring Eddie alongside him during his deliveries when Eddie is around and available.

22. When Ellie and Emmett first arrived in the Welcome Home Neighborhood, Wally somehow mistook them as Eddie's parents. This made Eddie laugh.

23. Emmett is actually good friends with Howdy and Barnaby. Howdy and Emmett would talk about business, while he and Barnaby tell each other jokes.

24. Ellie actually has good balance and poise. But gets all clumsy when she's flustered.

25. Ellie has a crush on one of Julie Joyful's siblings. Specifically, she has a crush on Franny Joyful.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for bringing a fake boyfriend to my friend's party?

to condense as best i can, i (30, transwoman, city of pop. >10million) recently become the mother hen to a brood of wonderful baby queers (8 total, 17-23, boys and girls, all moved for school in the last year or so, most had never set foot in ANY city before). we live on the same floor of an apartment complex, and we've all grown very close over the past months; i help them use the metro, they tell me when they're going on dates and text so i know they got home safe, i cook weekend dinners, and they all slept in my living room for a week when another apartment on the floor was broken into. i think of them as somewhere between friends, younger relatives, or even my own children.

recently, one of the older ones (21) has realized he's also trans and come out to me, and i'm so proud and grateful that i can guide him through his early transition. unfortunately, there's his mother.

he'd first told me her response to his coming out was "better than expected", so i assumed she was tolerant, if not supportive yet. i've since learned she continually misgenders him, thinks this is a "tomboy phase" he'll marry out of someday, and has begun listening to more right-wing podcasts and news sites in order to "hear from both sides".

along with the other 7 kids, i've been invited to stay at the family's farm for his birthday in august, & while he's assured me she won't make a scene with company around, he's implied she has many opinions about my prescense, but said that i shouldn't tone myself down, and that if anything "it would be good for her to learn to be kind to you early, since we're family too now". two of the girls are partners, which the mother knows, but she does not seem to care about this and said that bringing a date was fine.

i have another friend (31) who's much more loudly queer than i am. on top of this, he's heavily tattooed (HUGE taboo here), rides a motorcycle, and is very outspoken and unshakable. i told him about all of this, and he offered to come along as my boyfriend, both to bother this woman, and so i won't be in a tiny (population SEVENTY-THREE!) unfamiliar town alone if anything happens. he's met the kids several times now, they get along well, and the birthday boy has said "that all sounds hysterical. do whatever you want."

my worry here is that the mother is already MUCH worse than he'd first lead me to believe, so i don't know that i can trust the kid's judgment that everything will be fine. i don't care about hurting this woman at all, and both i and my friend have dealt with even nastier people before so i'm not afraid of her, but i DO NOT want to do anything that could put this boy in a difficult position, especially since he'll likely be living with his family every summer until he's finished school, if not longer. i know what i can personally tolerate, but i don't know what he can, especially from a mother.

would i be an asshole to bring my "boyfriend" along? is it best to just go solo? or should i stay away entirely until he's back in the city?

What are these acronyms?

[bloodyinkandquill]

Ban Hammer and sibling Reader

i almost typed x instead of and i almost screamed, my birthdays coming up so trying to figure out if my partner can come visit me for it, but collage schedules get in the way, might have to settle for thanks giving instead, anyways let’s write this lmao,

oh and for this you’ll see a lot of my head canons for how the spawns work in phighting, i will also use the canon of children being spawned with the mental and physical age of around 10, they also will just be considered 10 from their spawning!

- A child born to one of the Spawns without parents were a dime a dozen, more common then having parents, they’d still run a blood test to see if you had any biological family, siblings or parents, sometimes on rare occasions they’d find a sibling but for the most part the children were alone, left to be raised by the Spawn keepers, in a large building full of kids like you, for 8 years till either by some miracle you were adopted or more likely you aged out and were set into the world, or unfortunately also commonly, you’d be outside of the Spawn building with no keepers nearby and be involved in some sort of violence, and that was just one more open bed in the Spawn building

- You were just another kid, never really had any friends, but you’ve only been alive a year or so, you knew you would never be adopted, you’d age out, there were so many other kids, stronger, smarter, cuter, whatever than you, so you tried to make the best of your time in the Spawn, so when the keepers said your room unit was going to the park you were excited, one room unit at a time would go places so you were very happy to be going somewhere

- When you got to the park other kids started running around and playing with each other, you went off towards the sand box, but when you got close you saw someone was already playing there, looked older than you, maybe 14? With yellow horns, they looked off, maybe like they were dyed? They were building things then destroying them, laughing to themself and occasionally looking in a certain direction and talking, you weren’t sure who to, you gathered your courage to approach and ask if you could play with him, when you walked up behind him he turned around and you saw he had four eyes, you were a little surprised but said you liked his eyes, he lit up at that saying people usually think that they’re weird or scary, you asked to play with him and he agreed

- You learned his name was Ban Hammer, you had fun, eventually moving from the sand box to other things, he was older and bigger than you, neither of you minded and had the time of your lives, soon enough the keeper called out that you all were about to leave, you were sad and he asked why don’t you come back tomorrow, you explained you couldn’t, you were a parentless child living in the Spawn, he frowned and turned towards a certain direction and asked the air if he could keep you, you were, incredibly confused

- After some one sided conversation you heard the keeper call out your name, you were about to say bye and run over to the group when you heard a adult sounding voice groan and say fine, then looking back materializing in front of you was a demon, no not a demon, one of the swords, you were dumbfounded, Ban Hammer ran up and hugged her thanking her, she said to you that she’ll foster you, because she loves her son so much, if it works out she’ll adopt you, you were a little scared but if this worked out you’d not only get adopted but by one of the deities, you thanked her and she went over to the keeper you and her son in tow

- After that you begun living with them, you and Ban Hammer were very close, running around and playing all the time, he had to learn you weren’t as strong as him, you were younger and a mortal, he was a demigod so he had to watch his strength around you, neither of you minded and you two became very close, Windforce warmed up to you eventually, if one day you woke up and noticed you felt a little stronger and life there was some divine protection over you, you didn’t say anything but you did leave her a little gift

- As you two grew older you got closer, play fighting and talking about what you wanted to do as adults, you also started jokingly making fun of each other, playful banter and soft jabs, you formed a true sibling bond of going into each other’s rooms, turning on the lights, staring at each other then just leaving, since Windforce still had her duties to attend to you two would commonly be home alone, you never minded since she’d spoil you two whenever she got back, you would also assist him in dying his horns yellow, you did it once or twice too because you both wanted to look more like your mom, neither of you knew why his horns were purple to her yellow but you’d just shrug and put the dye on them

- With him being older he’d take you places like to go get food or to a store to buy snacks, since he could summon wings to fly with you worked out a way for him to fly you places, some nights you’d go soaring in the sky, it was those nice moments that made you closer, he’d play a prank of pretending to drop you but he always made sure you were never in any actual danger, you were one of the only mortals who ever got to see the world in that way, soaring in the air without a care in the world

- Once you two were both adults you saw each other less but still hung out often, meeting up to talk about your lives or to see Windforce, he stopped dying his horns yellow to look like your mom, and he started creating the Ban Lands, you offered assistance on occasion but for the most part he worked on it by himself, you’d reminisce on childhood memories, playing together and pranking each other, you still did on occasion, you’d butt heads in a playful way, if either of you were interested romantically in someone the other would instantly research everything about them and then deem if they were worthy of the other

hope you enjoyed! i semi projected me and my sister’s relationship, i have two but one isn’t biological (long story) so im far closer to my biological sister, she’s older and i love her/p (obviously)

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Magnolia - Din Djarin x Reader

Magnolia (Magnolia) - Meaning: Dignity, perseverance

Summary: Din is blackmailed by Peli into going to the doctor for the first time since he took his Creed. The doctor is not what he expected.

Pairing: Din x Reader (3rd person POV)

Word Count: 2386

Warnings: 3rd person POV, Peli being a bit of a bully, no Grogu, probably inaccurate Star Wars medical practices, Din being mysterious, tattooed!Din, needles/hyposprays, brief helmetless!Din but not in front of reader, awkward!Din warming up to someone, slight touch-starved!Din if you squint

Day 16 is the longest so far! This was supposed to be the first chapter of a series featuring Din and a doctor love interest, but I think it works here too. Also, today is my anniversary with my partner, so I'm dedicating this to him! 13 years together, 9 married. Holy shit, where does time go?

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, Reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated! ❤️

“I don’t wanna hear it, Mando!” the older woman exclaimed, “Doc, you here? Sit down, would ya? You’re makin’ me nervous. Doc?” 

A modulated voice said something she couldn’t make out as she made her way out of the exam room to the waiting area. Peli was facing her, hands of her hips, but her attention immediately went to she silver-clad form of a man sitting on a chair in her waiting room. His head was covered with a shiny helmet, his gloved hands resting on his thighs, and even though she couldn’t read his expression on his face she could see the tension in his form. 

“Good, you’re here,” Peli said to her, “My friend Mando here,” she jerked her thumb over her shoulder to the man, “has just informed me that he hasn’t been to a doctor since he was a child, and in his line of work that seems really stupid so I dragged him here, you got time for an exam?” 

“Of course,” she said, “but I feel it needs to be said that I don’t usually perform exams on unwilling patients…over the age of 8, that is.” She smirked. And the Mandalorian’s helmet tilted as if in disbelief. He rose to his feet, his full height and breadth unfolding to take up much more space than she’d initially thought. 

“Fine,” the modulated voice said, ”Let’s get this over with.” 

Peli’s smirk read of something deeper than concern for her beskar-clad friend, but she didn’t have time to parse it for meaning as the Mandalorian made his way toward where she stood in the doorway between the exam room and the waiting room. She stepped aside and held out an arm to usher him into the small room. 

“Thanks, Doc,” Peli said, “Send him back my way when you’re done, I’ve got his ship.” 

“Will do,” she replied, now understanding more about how Peli was able to manhandle such a large, broad person into her clinic.

The bell above the front door jingled as Peli left, leaving her alone with the Mandalorian. She would’ve been more uncomfortable if it weren’t for the numerous sharp instruments within her reach, as well as the hidden blaster strapped under the exam table. 

One couldn’t be too careful on Tatooine. 

The Mandalorian was looking around the small room, possibly assessing for threats until she cleared her throat, getting to work mode. 

“So I think we can just run a few tests and do a quick workup, nothing invasive. That should placate Peli, at least.” 

“Okay,” he said through the modulator, standing stiffly in the middle of the room as she busied herself with grabbing a holopad and passing it over to him.

“Fill this out,” she said quickly, busying herself with grabbing supplies for a blood draw and a retinal scan. 

“Um,” the voice said from behind her and she paused, turning toward her patient, “I, uh, I don’t know my birth date.” 

“That’s okay, just an approximate age is fine.” She went about her business, prepping a few vaccines and a bacta hypospray just in case while his gloved fingers tap-tapped on the holopad. When she was finished, she turned and leaned back against the counter and watched him as he finished. 

It didn’t take a doctor to note the obvious power of the Mandalorian’s body, half-bent over the holopad on the exam table. She scanned his posture, the way he held himself as he tapped with his right hand and noted a few things she wanted to mention. With how well-muscled he had to be under the heavy beskar, she figured he had a physically demanding job, and it was then she remembered Peli mentioning a bounty hunter friend of hers. 

He was silent as he finished and passed her the holopad. Under the ‘Name’ field he’d put simply, ‘Mando’ and she couldn’t help the smile that rose on her face. As a race, Mandalorians were notoriously secretive. 

Scanning the rest of the info sheet, she saw he mentioned back pain and bad knees as places of concern. Other than that, she didn’t see anything glaringly off. 

“Okay, this all looks about right for your estimated age, but I still want to take some blood and update your vaccinations,” she glanced at him from under her lashes and he grunted in what she assumed was assent. “Can you take your, um,” she gestured to the armor adorning his thick arms, not knowing what they were called, “arm pieces off? I’ll need to get in your veins there.” 

The Mandalorian hesitated, going eerily still. If she wasn’t mistaken, she thought she heard a sharp intake of breath through the modulator. Tension rose within the room, but she was well-trained so she turned her back to him to offer a little privacy and used the moment to sanitize her hands and pull on a pair of exam gloves, pleasantly satisfied when she heard the clanking of armor being shed and the heavy pieces being carefully placed on the table.

She turned back around and watched him rolling up the sleeves of his flight suit, exposing his  muscular arms up to his biceps and she had to remind herself that she was a professional — salivating over a patient was unethical. With a deep breath she went back into Doctor mode, assessing his arms for easy-to-access veins. 

A hiss sounded from him when she palpated his inner elbow and she looked up at his blank t-shaped visor. 

“Did that hurt?” she asked. 

The helmet shook, “Cold hands.” 

She smiled, “Sorry, should’ve warned you. Kind of ironic isn’t it?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Considering it’s hotter than a Mustafarian volcano outside,” she explained, pressing further and finding a juicy vein. “Little pinch,” she said, using the prepped needle to pierce his golden-brown skin. If she wasn’t mistaken, she glimpsed the bottom edge of a tattoo hiding under his rolled-up sleeve. 

When the vial was full, she pulled the needle out and took some of the prepared bacta gel across the small hole in Mando’s skin, then put a small bandage over it. “That can come off in half an hour. Let me get this sample going so I can get your results before you leave, then we can do the retinal scan.” 

She moved toward the far side of the room toward her lab equipment, but a large hand on her wrist stopped her. 

“Retinal scan?” Mando asked, helmet tilted in concern. 

“Yeah, it’s really quick. Just to make sure your brain function is normal, no big deal,” she explained with a shrug. With how still he once again was, she guessed it was not, in fact, not a big deal to him. 

From what little she knew of Mandalorian culture, their armor and weapons were sacred to them but he’d already taken off his arm pieces. Maybe something about the helmet was different? 

“I…my Creed, uh, I can’t remove my helmet,” he said haltingly, removing his hand from her wrist. 

It was her turn to tilt her head in confusion, “What, like ever? How do you shower?” 

“I can take it off, but not in front of other living beings. If I did, I couldn’t put it back on.” 

“Oh,” she breathed. She nibbled on her lower lip as she tried to think of a solution. She didn’t want to let him leave without the scan but at the same time she couldn’t ask him to break his Creed for a fifteen-second scan. 

“Ah! Okay,” she exclaimed as an idea came to her. She grabbed the scanner off of its charger and put it on the exam table in front of him. “I’ll step out, you remove your helmet and run the scan yourself. It’s easy,” she said, sensing his hesitation, “Push this button here and hold the scanner in front of your eyes until it double beeps, about fifteen seconds, then you put your helmet back on and I’ll come back. Think that’ll work?” she asked, looking up at his visor hopefully. 

After a few seconds, he replied “Yeah. That’ll work.” 

Her smile widened and she nodded, “Let me get your blood tests going and then I’ll step out.” 

Din’s POV 

This was the exact reason he hadn’t been to a doctor since taking the Creed. Every Mandalorian covert had their own stash of medical supplies and were trained in first aid, so it never seemed important. He’d been cursing himself for mentioning his back pain to Peli until stepping into the Doctor’s office. 

The fact that she was holding his ship pretty much hostage until he went to the Doctor was only part of what got him here. 

To her credit, the Doctor had been respectful and considerate so far — her solution to his issue with the brain scan was simple, but spoke volumes to her character. Having only known her for a few minutes he could tell she was trustworthy, even though something in her eyes spoke of some hidden truths. 

Not wanting to keep her waiting in the other room for long, he double checked his surroundings before removing his helmet, pushing the button on the scanner that she’d shown him, and waiting for the ‘beep-beep’ to signal it had finished. 

He replaced his helmet and called her back into the room. She swept back in and smiled at him. 

“That didn’t hurt too much, did it?” she asked in a joking tone that made him smirk. She was cheeky, this doctor. 

“Virtually painless,” he said. 

“Good, wouldn’t want to completely scare you off,” she joked again but his breath caught in his throat. She placed the scanner on its charging port and looked at the screen in front of her, assessing the results with a furrow in her brow. 

Din took a moment to finally look at her. He’d already noticed how pretty she was, hair drawn back and up off her neck to combat the heat of the Tatooine suns. Her eyes were sharp and intelligent, and every time she’d looked his way he felt like she could see through the beskar he wore. Unknowingly, she’d already locked eyes with him a few times despite his helmet. While she looked over his results, she absentmindedly played with a necklace — some sort of pendant on a long silver chain — he didn’t see any more jewelry. 

“Well, your brain looks normal. No irregularities or past concussions showing up, but I guess that’s what the helmet is for,” she said, glancing his way. He nodded.”You mentioned some back pain, which is normal for your age, but I can take a look and maybe get you some pain supplements.” 

He nodded again and swept his cape aside, gathering it over one shoulder and exposing his jetpack. 

“Well,” she said with a chuckle, “that’ll do it.” She grabbed a different scanner while he took off his jetpack. His entire spine straightened as he felt her fingers ghost along his lower back. 

“May I?” she asked, and he swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry. 

“Yes.”

She gently lifted the back of his flight shirt, the coldness of her fingers raising goosebumps along his arms. The scanner she held chirped, and she dropped his shirt back into place. 

“Just what I thought,” she said as he pulled the jetpack back on. “Looks like it’s muscular, not spinal, so I’ll throw some anti-inflammatory salve, and if you’d like, some pain supplement. A mild one,” she added.

“Thank you,” he said. 

She crossed to a cabinet, bending down to open it and Din averted his gaze. From inside she extracted a small tin and a glass jar, cursing when she found it empty. 

“Kriffing hell,” she muttered, “Sorry, looks like I’m out of the pain supplement. Outer Rim supply lines suck.” 

“That’s okay,” he offered, but she was insistent. 

“I feel bad now, getting your hopes up like that. I have something stronger but I figured with being a bounty hunter you’d want to keep your wits about you.” 

“I appreciate that. The salve will do fine for now.” 

“I mean, if you ever find yourself in a trading outpost or on Arvala-7, you could get some for yourself. I’ll write down the name.” She busied herself with that for a moment before another mechanical buzzing caught her attention. 

“Ah, your blood results!” Fluttering past, she slipped the piece of flimsi into his gloved hand. He caught a whiff of her scent — night-blooming flowers and citrus, with a tinge of sweat.

She pursed her lips, and Din wanted to reach over and pull the bottom one loose with his thumb. All her touches had awakened something in him that he usually kept locked away. “Hmm…looks like you’re a little low on Potassium and a few different vitamins, but no major illnesses or viruses, which is good. No malignant bacteria hiding in your bloodstream either, no parasites…damn, that beskar keeps everything out, doesn’t it?” 

She glanced his way, but kept on talking, “I’m still going to recommend a few vaccines, and a bit of a diet change. Let me guess, you mostly survive on ration packs?” 

He nodded, “I do.” 

“I’m going to suggest eating some more fruits in general, that’ll help with the vitamin deficiencies and the potassium. Ration packs are pretty nutritious, but with your lifestyle you burn through certain things quicker than others, so it’s best to supplement the packs. Just a few more hypos and you’ll be all set to go back to Peli with a clean bill of health. Any other questions or concerns?” 

Part of him wanted to ask if she was busy later that night, especially when they locked eyes under his helmet. His mouth went dry, and all he could manage was a shake of his head. 

He cleared his throat, “No, no. Thank you, Doctor.” 

“You are very welcome, Mando,” she said, handing him a small bag with papers and the salve inside. 

“Din,” he offered before he could think about it.

“Hmm?”

He cleared his throat again, “My name is Din.”

Her smile was radiant and Din felt a flutter in his chest. “Nice to meet you, Din. Whenever you need me, I’m here.” 

He reached out and shook her proffered hand. “I’ll be sure to take you up on that, Doc.”

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Silver & blood taste the same…

Blurb: FBI special agent Amaranthine Delaware has a nose like a blood hound. She can sniff out crime wherever it may lurk, not even the shadows are safe. But what happens when a crazed killer is tearing through towns rampantly and she has no idea who they are and where they're going next?

Pairing: Bill Skarsgård x OC

Part 1 of ?

Warnings: Gore, blood, violent depictions, homicide, dub-con, somnophilia, sexual themes, sexual acts, swearing, mentions of torture, kidnapping, mentions of weaponry, mental health struggles, addiction (alcohol dependency and cocaine) and possibly more throughout. 18+. Read at your own discretion and risk. You have been warned.

-

October 17th, 2013

The killings started in the early fall here in Indigo Grove. It must have been around September time because all the kids were back in school and that's how our first Jane Doe was discovered. She had been left- no, she had been discarded, in an overgrown area of greenery near a family home. It was the youngest of the children who found her... now two lives are ruined.

I say 'it must have been around September time...' but I know that it was. I remember everything from that first day. Every smell, every sob, every single one of my hairs standing on end as I try not to dry heave onto the ground next to the poor girl laying there on the frozen earth. Her red eyes staring up at me forever piercing and tainting my soul.

I try not to panic at the coffee counter as the barista with smudged eyeliner blinks at me, evidently annoyed at my prolonged silence and stilled movement, "Sorry," I breathe, finally, "How much did you say that was?" she rolls her eyes as she glances back at the till.

"You owe 5.75 today, ma'am."

Ma'am? The word makes my head spin. Her and I are clearly close to being the same age and she is referring to me like I am some 30 year old woman. I would laugh if I weren't so tired.

I stuff my hand into my damp coat pocket and pull out my purse. Loose strands of my rain soaked hair stick to the side of my face. The purse is a faded shade of purple and the faux leather is of a smooth grain. It's about the only thing that has been with me through thick and thin.

I rummage through the compartments of the purse, my cold shaking fingers scraping together the last of the coins that I have. I count them out in my palm before quickly handing them to the cashier.

She looks down at the metal like it is a foreign form of currency before she as well briefly counts them, obviously not trusting my judgement. After slotting them into her till she rewards me with my morning beverage and sweet treat. Nothing better than sugar at 8 in the morning.

The lights in the café are dim as I enter further into the sea of tables, every person appears like a blurred silhouette- or maybe it is just the three glasses of wine from last night catching up to me. My patrol partner, Johnny Franklin, is sitting in a dark far away corner of the café at a small table for two. He is tucked against the wall, his coffee mug in one hand and his toasted sandwich in the other. He orders the same thing every day; Regular coffee with three spoonfuls of sugar and whole fat milk alongside a toasted cheese and tuna melt sandwich and a chocolate chip muffin for dessert.

Johnny is around the same age as my older sister Jocelyn, which I find great comfort in… maybe that’s why I enjoy having him around. He is also a creature of habit, making his days predictable. I always know where he is going to be and when he is going to be there. It’s why I stay so fond of him, he doesn’t surprise me.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” He grumbles lazily, bringing his coffee mug up to his thin pale lips to take a leisurely slurp as I take a seat across from him. A small stubbly beard has grown in on and around his mouth, I notice this as he says, “You seem as chirpy as ever today.” His hoarse voice is dripping with sarcasm and I pray that this won’t be the running theme of the day. Johnny talking nonsense and me with a pounding headache.

“Yeah, yeah, get it out of your system.” I wave my hand, almost dismissing him- or maybe I’m trying to swat him away like he is a fly. He is always getting all twisted up in other peoples shit.

“You look like shit, kid.” The now empty coffee mug comes down onto the cheap wooden table, a light clatter of the porcelain following close after, “I’m in two minds of even telling you what I got paged this mornin’…”

And there it is. That horrid feeling of dread, doubt, despair, anger, hurt, anxiety- my body knows what he is going to say before he has to say it. The way my stomach twists into painful tight knots and how my breath is now lodged, undoubtably stuck in my throat. The world around me pivots on a sideways axel and I’m struggling to make it stop.

“Tell me.” I am strangled as the words come out, almost too quiet for myself to hear. Do I want to know? Can I handle what Johnny is going to tell me? The answer is no, probably not. But this is the work, and I owe it to those girls to catch this sick fuck-

Johnny’s beady brown eyes examine my features. It takes him a moment but he sucks in a deep breath and I see his bushy eyebrows knit together, his mouth also downturning distastefully, “Another body was found early hours this mornin’, around 3am. She has thought to have been out there for at least two weeks they said.”

The sourness in my mouth intensifies. Two weeks… two whole weeks. Evidence could be lost, the crime scene tampered with, decomposition.. animals. The thought alone sickens me to my stomach. How could she have been missed for that long?

“Who found her?” I ask after a long pause, my mind is buzzing with fear. That’s the thing about this line of work, people expect you to have no feeling- but I feel everything.

Johnny takes a bite of his sandwich and grease pools at the corners of his mouth making me cringe. I want to scream at him for even being able to stomach anything after telling me that information. He chews for an agonisingly long time before he finally grumbles, “A trucker on the highway nearly swerved off the road- agents at the scene think she must have still been alive after the attack and tried to crawl to the nearest road to wave down some help but her wounds were fatal. She died as she reached the highway.” Another bite. Another bite of that disgusting fucking sandwich.

My nostrils flare as I suck in a deep aggravated breath, standing up from the table the chair legs scrape along the floor, the screech punctuates my exit and I am gone before Johnny even has the time to comprehend what’s happening.

Dark clouds swell the sky and the chilly air nips and whips at my cheeks. The rain conjures a hellish dance upon my head as it pelts from the heavens above, drenching my hair further. My chest rises and falls with every breath I struggle to pull into my lungs and I find myself thinking about him.

He keeps me awake every night. I dream about him, I write about him- I wonder, what does he eat? What does his morning routine look like? What does he hate? What does he look like? His eyes, his lips, his smile… is it nice? Is it a nice smile, a warm smile, a welcoming smile? What does he smell like?

He consumes my life, he controls my every thought.

I hate it. I hate him.

It feels personal. Every murder… every life that he takes. And I know that it shouldn’t, but it does.

It fucking does.

-

Blue lights flood my vision, captivating the world around me in an inescapable light. The light in which we should all feel safe in, but I don’t. I never have.

The yellow and black police tape is lifted for me as I enter through to the official crime scene. The highway has been closed off and traffic is being redirected elsewhere, creating this ungodly eerie silence. I want noise, I need the noise… it’s too quiet.

“Special agent Delaware, this is Milo Reed, our truck driver.” My supervisor, Harold Hawkins, approaches me from a nearby vehicle. The man stood to his left is as pale as chalk, his eyes wide and dark with purple circles cladding the skin beneath his sockets.

My steps are steady and slow as I inch closer to the pair, deciding it may not be best to go in for a handshake in this moment, “Milo, my name is Amaranthine and I’m the lead detective on this case. My partner will soon be here to take care of you.” My own voice echoes inside of my mind. I can’t imagine how this man may be feeling. All he manages to muster in response is a nod and then he is shuffling off in another direction, his actions meek and stilted.

My next walk feels like one to the gallows, but I find comfort in one thing. I know what his mark is, I know what he has left behind that’ll tie this girl to the last and to the one before her. The butterfly. He irons it into their skin. Always in a different area, but always just as deep and just as brutal. Taking something so beautiful and blackening it with evil…

That’s how he got his name from the media.

The butterfly killer.

It headlined in every newspaper a month back, and it still continues to steal the spotlight today. Front page, big and bold for all to see. I bet he is basking in the glory of all of this…

It makes my stomach churn.

As I advance further into the scene I spot an unmissable tanglement of red hair on the ground. The colour is admirable.. it is absolutely gorgeous. Or so I thought, that is until I realise that it’s not at all the colour of the victims hair- it is her blood.

I fight the urge to vomit, swallowing down whatever salvia I have in a desperate attempt to maintain my composure- especially in front of my male colleagues.

“Have you been briefed?” One of them ask and I nod my head, remaining silent, “It was him, she has been branded on her right shoulder. Her wounds, however, are of different technique. He was angrier this time and he used some sort of screwdriver.” His words are so cool it leaves my skin feeling icy cold, like the decaying corpse in front of us, “She has been photographed but with the recent weather conditions, evidence might be tricky to recover. We will be lucky if we identify any from her, never mind any from him.”

I can feel a slow build in my chest, a rising fire of complete rage. When will this end? Will he ever be satisfied? And will I ever catch him?

“Try your best.” I plea and my eyes flicker from the ground to the flashing lights that are now intensifying my headache and then back to the body. The attending agent has left my side and I struggle to grasp the reality of anything around me.

I crouch down to further investigate our victim. She tried to fight. She tried to flee- she wanted to live so desperately that she crawled 10 metres from her drop off point before her lungs finally filled with blood.

She died alone.

I watch as they carefully remove her body from the scene and into the back of an ambulance, taking her back to the lab where hopefully we will be able to identify her.

She will have a family somewhere, and they are waiting on her coming home.

-

“You can’t smoke in here!” I am four vodka cokes deep in the ‘Hell Gate’ bar just off of the highway and maybe I’m feeling brave and maybe the buzzing red lamp above my head has officially drove me insane but I have had my eyes on this delicious stranger since I arrived and I’ll be damned if I leave here without him. I know that he has noticed me and I know smoking indoors is illegal, and it has been for over 10 years, but there’s just something about watching him do it that makes my insides flutter.

The music in the bar is deafening but it’s pretty vacant of people, even the bartender keeps disappearing elsewhere. The man spares me a quick look, taking one long last drag of his cigarette before he is stumping it out into a nearby ashtray. His face slowly turns towards mine and just like that, he exhales the large cloud of cancerous smoke right into my face.

“What you gonna do about it?” His gravelly deep voice challenges me and my thighs clench together at the mere sight of him. Plump pink lips, stunning round eyes, a strong nose and not to mention the gorgeous brown hair. His tall frame slouched leisurely over the bar has my mind reeling with sin.

I just want to forget. Just for one night.

My front teeth toy with my bottom lip, nibbling on the cushiony skin as I try my hardest to force my drunken brain to think of a quip and sultry response but all I seem to muster is a pathetic, “Steal your lighter.”

He hadn’t noticed but around three seconds ago I had pinched his lighter from on top of the bar and secured in my pocket.

A smugness braces his face, pulling his lips up just ever so slightly at the corners, “What’s your name, angel?” I can tell that I’ve caught his attention by the way his body leans into mine and the total thirst that has consumed his eyes. He wants me.

“You first.” I counter, proud of my own confidence. It’s not every day I manage to pluck up the balls to talk to guys and I would like to thank my liquid courage for tonight. Wherever it may lead.

“Bill, but you can call me whatever you want.” I expect to see a hand stuck out in front of me, but I don’t. He keeps himself to himself, and I quietly admire that. It’s sort of gentlemanly…

I take a short but sweet sip of my drink, letting the alcohol sere my throat on the way down before I chirp, “Amaranthine, but my friends call me Amara.”

His eyebrows perk up momentarily on his forehead before they proceed to faintly knit together in what I assume is confusion, “Are we friends, Amaranthine?”

I bite rabidly at the inside of my cheek, pinching the flesh to stop a shit eating grin from taking over my entire face. There is a short pause as I pretend to think of an ‘honest’ answer, “We can be. If you wanna?” My blood feels hot as scolding iron as it flows through my body, flushing my face for a brief moment.

“Hmm,” Bill’s pink tongue darts from his mouth to swipe over his bottom lip, his teeth gentle nipping the skin, “I don’t know… what do your friends usually say about you?” He is closer to me now and I can feel my breathing start to become a bit ragged. It takes every ounce of restraint I have to not press my lips to his. They are all I can focus on. I wonder what he tastes like.

“My friends would tell you to run for the hills…” In order to regain composure I play with the metal lighter that belongs to him, flicking the cap and watching as the flame would erupt from within. On the side there is a word that is engraved… Love.

It takes mere seconds before Bill is pulling my wrist toward him with force, but not enough to hurt me, only enough to frighten me. And it does, and the gasp that leaves my mouth is borderline erotic and makes my cheeks fervent. He is gentle to take the lighter from my loose grip, placing it into his dark jean pocket and then returning his attention back to my face.

“I think this could work… this ‘friend’ thing.” His grip remains tight around my wrist, “Only thing is.. I don’t think friends fuck their friends, do they, Amara?” Somewhere along the way Bill has stood up from his barstool and he is now towering over me. He must be at least 6ft 2 and looking up at him from my seated position is making my mind spin uncontrollably. I thought I was attracted to him before but now… I want him to take me right here, right now in the middle of this dive bar.

“Friends sometimes do that.” I say meekly as I swallow thickly, all the saliva in my mouth has mysteriously disappeared and maybe it was the alcohol or maybe this is just what he does to me. The greed grows between my thighs and as I'm staring into his eyes I can see the hunger growing within him too- infatuation blowing his pupils to the size of bullet holes.

He yanks me to my feet, his face is uncompromising and I am on fire with anticipation, "Your place or mine?" His lips brush the shell of my ear and I feel electricity race down every vertebrae in my spine, making my legs unsteady. His voice is almost a moan and his tone is low and yet I am willing to totally submit to his every beckon and command.

"Mine..." I feel like I can't breathe, "I.. I don't have a ride." My quavering voice declares my evident embarrassment and Bill tucks some loose strands of my wind stricken hair behind my ear.

"It really is your lucky day." Bill winks at me, a semblance of a smile gently appearing onto his face and his long arm snakes around my waist, guiding me toward the bar exit.

"Oh- I haven't paid!" I exclaim in a state of panic.

"Shhh-" Fuck. His voice is like a lullaby, "I know the owner, don't stress." It was at that moment that I realised, in my inebriated state, that I would believe every word this man said.

-

Sober Amara would never have given her home address to a total stranger- but drunk and horny Amara just did. We are always warned as children- don’t speak to that strange looking man, don’t go near that lady, stay away from them and so on.. but if we lived up to those rules- to that fear, we would never live. We would be so alone..

I juggle my keys, struggling to control the adrenaline that is coursing through my veins, causing my hands to tremble. I manage to slot the key into the lock and jimmy it open- I really have to get that looked at.

I shoulder barge my way inside, losing my balance as I do and I expect to see the floor coming up to meet my face- but instead I feel Bill’s colossal hands gripping my waist firmly, holding me restrained in the air. Shock roots us both to the spot and I can feel something brewing rapidly between us.

My apartment is small, but it’s cozy and it’s home. I keep it clean for the most part, overall the only mess visible is the case files I’ve left on my desk and the map that’s strung up on my wall. To the average person, like Bill, I’ll probably look crazy. Luckily for me, that’s not where his attention is.

“I'm waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you.”

The door has been kicked shut and I can hear the rhythm of my own heart pounding in my ears. I’m starting to feel a bit lightheaded, like I am levitating above the ground. He knows just what to say, he knows how to look at me in just the right way to make my mind turn to mush- it’s almost like he knows me. Have we been here before?

“I’m gonna need your help to get my clothes off…” my hands dance up to behind his neck, cradling it gently whilst pulling him closer to me. My fingers card through his luscious dark hair, tugging the roots playfully which causes a groan to erupt from his lips.

Bill's large hands come to fondle with my chest, his fingers struggling with the buttons of my blouse. His breathing hitches and with a leap of faith and a lewd huff he rips the seams apart. My mouth falls agape as I watch the buttons fly across every square inch of the room. Some of them I'll never be able to find again...

His lips are on mine before I have time to form any sort of coherent thought and the warmth of his skin is enough to heat my entire body for days. My lips part, allowing his wet tongue to slip inside of my mouth and I moan out at the contact. He tastes like alcohol and cigarettes with the mildest touch of mint- just what I expected. Abruptly he pulls away and I whine with the need to have him near again, "I'm going to take good care of you, I promise. I just wanna enjoy the view. It's not everyday I get to fuck someone as pretty as you." His voice has dropped an octave or two lower and the simple task of breathing becomes obscenely hard in that moment and I battle the urge to pounce on top of him right there and then. He slides my ripped blouse down my arms, letting it fall to the hardwood floor below my feet. He steps further away, urging me with his eyes to continue undressing.

"You don't have to be gentle with me, I won't break..." I offer him a smirk and my feet move toward him with gentle strides and I notice Bill's eyes fluttering to and from my chest. My bra is boring but it's black- and black always leaves an impression no matter what it is. Plus, he seems to like the colour, considering he is dressed from head to toe in it, "You can do whatever you want with me."

The air vibrates between us, "What do you want to do to me, Bill?" My eyes flutter innocently up at his stocky frame and he pulls a quick breath into his lungs through his teeth.

"You want me to tell you, or do you want me to show you?" He is walking towards me now, an impure domineering twinkle gracing his eyes. He backs my steps up until I feel the wall crash into my spine and his long muscular arms cage me to the spot, "Are you afraid?" His face is craned down into my neck now, I can feel his breath on my skin and it settles just above my main artery that I can feel thumping.

I shake my head.

"You got any neck ties laying around here?" He asks and I nod in response.

"Top drawer, in the bedroom." I nod toward the dark hallway that connects my living room to all the other rooms in the house. He glances at it before allowing me to move from the wall, his hand slapping my ass hard.

"C'mon then, lets go get them." I giggle a bit as I run toward the bedroom, Bill following closely behind me, "And take the rest of those clothes off before I get there- or you'll regret it."

Excitement pricks at my heart and I assume he is talking about my suit pants and my shoes, and so I am happy to oblige as soon as I pass through the doorway into my bedroom. It's dark in there- pitch black, so I scramble around for the lamp on my bedside dresser, stumbling over clothes that have been left on the floor and more case files that really should be getting organised but aren't. My shoes are first to go, kicked beneath the bed and my pants are peeled down my legs. The rain had caught us on the way in so my skin is a bit damp and cold, making the fabric cling to my skin like it has been glued down.

I pull open my drawer, ignoring the vibrator that I usually hide in there I retrieve multiple neck ties- just in case he wants more than one and then I sit on the edge of the bed, watching the open door as Bill’s sturdy frame emerge's from the darkness of the hallway. Like a hunter stalking its prey.

"Are these okay?" I hold out the palms of my hands, the colourful neck ties splayed flat across them as I present them to Bill like a knight receiving his sword.

Bill's hands find his knees as he bends down to my line of vision, his face mere inches from mine, It’s almost mocking and I feel like I am about to get a telling off for bad behaviour, "I'm going to fucking ruin you, sweetie." His lips pinch his cheeks as he smirks devilishly, his hands pushing me harshly down onto the mattress- knocking the air out of my lungs.

“Wrists.” He demands and I clasp my hands together in the air without a second thought, my drunkenness blinding every ounce of my reasoning. Bill climbs on top of me, his knees at either side of my torso and he hovers there as he skilfully knots and binds my wrists tightly together. He has done this before...

“Please take your clothes off,” I beg, my voice coming out as a sweltering breathy pant and after he had finished securing my wrists to the bed frame he stands from the bed, my body moving with the shift in weight.

“You’re so polite, so fucking cute- you know what good girls get?” He perks an eyebrow, his hands gripping the hem of his black t-shirt as he pulls it up and over his head. The sight of his abdominal muscles tensing and contorting to the movement of his body has my mind sobering up slightly. I want that image permanently engraved in my mind, “They get anything that they want, sweet cheeks.”

He moves onto his jeans next and even just watching him unbuckle his leather belt has my pussy aching for more. I can’t stop admiring his body- he is so lean and strong, chiselled by the Greek gods themselves.

“Like what you see?” His voice takes the reins of every one of my thoughts and I nod my head, my thighs impatiently rubbing together desperate to get some sort of release, “Awww, is she pulsing?” Up until this moment I'd never been provided the chance to experiment this much in the bedroom, my one night stands were always so vanilla and borderline unsatisfactory- so to have my hands tied to the bed and someone as hot as Bill mocking my arousal... it's all so new. I love it.

"Touch me." It wasn't supposed to come out as a command, but it does and the dimple that screws itself into Bill's cheek leaves my wrists tensing against their restraints.

Bill's eyes settle between my legs, his tongue swiping out to briefly coat his swollen lips in momentary shine as he prowls up the mattress and only then do I see how stiff he is in his briefs- I just want him inside me.

Despite my state of tenseness Bill separates my legs with ease, a small 'fuck' leaving his throat as he drinks in the sight of my pantie class core, "Wanna make you scream..." Two of his slender fingers tactically stroke over the slick covered fabric that sticks to my puffy slit, teasing me softly as he applies just the right amount of pressure to my stimulated clit, "You're so wet already and I've barely touched you-" An egotistical hum swims through his deep voice, "My fingers are covered in you already."

I can't help the mewl that leaves my mouth as I watch Bill foam at the sight of me. No one's made me feel like this before, this wanted- this desired. Bill gasps as his fingers hook beneath the fabric of my underwear and it is shortly followed by a profane groan as his fingertips tease my needy entrance, "You're killin' me, baby." It makes my head whizz with exhilaration as Bill tears the poor garment of clothing from my body, slightly burning my skin with the friction as he does.

Goosebumps arise on my skin at the expose to such cool air, making me shiver where I lay. Bill's head of messy brown locks dip between my spread thighs, pressing trails of kisses from my kneecaps up to my bare centre where his tongue strokes a long slow strip through my glistening folds. His lips make a 'pop' noise as he sucks my sensitive cluster of nerves roughly , pulling away only to dive right back in again. And again...

"A..ah!" My back curves up from the comfortable springs beneath me but Bill continues to secure my hips in place, the grip his fingertips have on me is bruising as the room is filled with nothing but the lewd noise of wet sloppy slurping and pleasure pained moans.

"She's dripping," He coo's cutely, his voice is a muffled hum against my pussy and the vibrations cause my legs to quiver as they cage Bill's face between them. After one final stroke of his muscular tongue Bill spits on my folds before rising to steady himself on his knees, "Think you're ready for my cock now, babe?" His huge hand lads a sore slap against my heat and I cry out at the sting, tugging harshly on my bounds. It hurts but it also feels so fucking good...

"Yes! Yes, please. I'm ready... just want you to fuck me, Bill, please." I say with so much agony that it is comedic.

Two of his slim fingers push inside of me, filling and spreading me out as Bill finally free's his shaft from his underwear. His hand pumps at his length a few times, his thumb gently spreading the pre-cum from his tip to the rest of his thick rod, "Say, 'pretty please' and I'll think about it." His smile is more intoxicating than any of the alcohol that I've consumed and I'm growing to detest the affect he has on my body.

He carries on touching himself, his eyes hooding as he throws his head back in total bliss, "Pretty please." The words are almost a sob as I wiggle my hips, trying to meet him halfway. He bites his bottom lip, clearly satisfied with my pleading he taps his dick a few times against my slit only to shock me at the very last second as he pushes himself all the way inside. The stretch is glorious and my eyes are rolling to the back of my head at the sensation of him filling every inch of me.

"So warm- you're squeezing me so tight." It's now Bill's turn to moan as he bottoms out of my pulsating cunt and plunges himself back in again, "Keep this act up and I'll end up cumming before you do, sweetheart." The image of him coating my walls with his hot spunk makes me want to scream.

His thrusts quicken and with more ferocity, the room is captivated by the loud sounds of wet skin slapping skin and the perverted moans from both Bill and I.

"Don't stop! Ah.. fuck! Please don't stop!" My screams reverberate in my chest, bouncing off of every wall and playing back at us. It's evident that Bill has no intentions of slowing down and I struggle to keep my eyes open long enough to watch the perfect contour of his parted lips widen and how his dark eyebrows pinch together in pure delight.

He pulls out of me and grabs my hips. He flips me around to my stomach before pulling my ass up into the air where he spanks the skin brutishly and I endure the red marks that tingle their way up to the surface. Forcing my face down into the pillows he holds my head there as he propels himself back inside of me and the scream that leaves my mouth leaves me drooling all over my pillowcases. My mouth is unable to close from the constant moans exiting past my lips.

"I knew you were a slut, look at you-" He slaps my ass cheek again, punctuating his words, "Taking my cock so well. Am I hitting that sweet spot, baby?" I try to speak, I try to communicate with him but I can't. It's all too intense, "Right there? Yeah, Ugh, fuck yeah!" Bill's moans bless my ears and I feel a knot forming in the pit of my stomach, my high is hurdling toward me with every thrust his thick cock gives.

"Want you to cream all over me, can you do that?" I nod into the pillow, having given up on my words and Bill releases a noise that is somewhere between an hum of approval and a moan, "So good for me, so fucking good.." Maybe I hadn't noticed before now, but the way he praises me only increases the fire consuming my insides and I don't know if it's because of how attracted I am to Bill or just a newly discovered kink of mine but whatever it is it's working.

I struggle to breathe against the fabric of the pillow and my eyes pinch closed alongside every muscle in my body tensing as my howling orgasm washes over me. My legs are a shaking mess and I swear I pass out for a moment or so because Bill is the only thing keeping me kneeling upright as he pounds into me from behind- chasing his own release that soon follows closely after mine...

And we are left both a panting muddle of sweaty flesh in a room stinking of nasty sex.

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas

[brnesblogposts]

Birthday Girl

(repost)

pairing: avengers x reader

a/n I kinda hate this but i needed to write because it’s been months. this only includes the og 6 + wanda & bucky, i could add in others too, just ask! or give me recs because i really don’t know what to write.

reblogs appreciated if you enjoy !

———————————

Eighteen years. That's how long you've been on this earth for (not counting the few off-planet missions you've been on), and as of today, you are officially an adult. You weren't a big fan of birthdays—I mean, you used to be when you were younger, and there was nothing to worry about. As you've gotten older, birthdays have become a reminder of the multitude of responsibilities you'll have to adopt.

You hadn't told anybody it was your birthday; reminding them was the last thing you wanted to do because the Avengers are known for their parties, and they look for the smallest reason to throw one. This year, though, that wasn't going to happen, or at least you were hoping they'd forgotten. 

It was 8:00 a.m., your alarm is blaring loudly on the bedside table, and without opening your eyes, your hand feels around for your phone and eventually finds the snooze button—just five more minutes. 

Suddenly, you become aware and alert. As you stir yourself awake, your body senses a loud, continuous noise, and you feel as if you're being watched. "HAAAAPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR Y/N, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU," your eyes shoot open to find Natasha and Wanda at the end of your bed singing their hearts out and grinning so hard their jaws must be hurting. 

"Wakey, wakey, sleepyhead, it's your birthday!" "My girl is all grown up," Natasha says, wiping away fake tears dramatically. "Vision is making waffles for you; get up so you can eat 'em while they're still hot!" Wanda slaps your ankle, and you curl into a tighter ball. "Five more minutes," you whine, and to your surprise, the two women are not putting up with your nonsense today; your blanket is ripped off you, and you're met with the cold morning air. "Be downstairs in 5 minutes or I will pour a bucket of water over your head," Natasha retorts sternly; she is not messing around. You sit up, looking half dead, but you crack a smile, and with contented sighs, the girls leave your room. 

The kitchen erupts into roars of cheers as you enter wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. It's too early for this. 

The first to hug you is Tony, who says, "Happy birthday, kid; just because you're eighteen doesn't mean I'm going to stop being your overbearing father figure." You smile at him because that's all you can do and there are about eight hundred other people to hug; you just want your waffles. 

"Lady Y/N, Happy Birthday!" Thor booms, "In Asgard, at your age, you can start drinking; I brought you back some Asgardian mead for us to share!" Just as he finishes talking, there is a chorus of "no"s and stern looks sent his way. "Thank you, Thor; maybe when they're not looking," you say with a wink, and he returns a smile.

"Happy birthday, y/n." Bruce smiles; you'd be lying if you said you didn't have a soft spot for the guy. You give him a quick hug, which is awkward because, well, it's Bruce.

"Y/N!" "Happy birthday, pal!" Steve hugs you and accidentally lifts you off the ground; once he puts you down and you can breathe again, you thank him.

"Happy birthday, y/n! Now that you don't have a bedtime, we can spend more time scheming!" Clint smirks. The man is your partner in crime and also the reason why you get into trouble. You ignore his snide remark and give him a hug. 

"HAPPYBIRTHDAY Y/N!! I know you're eighteen now, but that doesn't mean anything because you're only a year older than me. What I'm trying to say is.. you can't boss me around." 

"Thank you, Pete," you say, and you smile. You swear his birth certificate is wrong. The kid doesn't seem a day past 14. 

"Happy birthday, doll; it would seem you're catching up to me," Bucky says as he hugs you. "Eighteen and one hundred and six?" raising an eyebrow "Yeah, same thing," you sarcastically rebuttal.

As everyone sits and tucks into their waffles, you take a second to look at everyone. You're happy they didn't forget.