#plot twist it's not the plaid shirt

[themultifanshipper]

At any given moment, George is riding the line between either looking like Mister Darcy or a Lesbian, and boy does he ride it hard...

[brairslair]

FEEL BETTER? ˗ˏˋ P.B.P ´ˎ˗

“all you have to do is ask”

confident!peter parker x shy!gf!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.0k

REQUESTED: no requests are open! fandoms: marvel, stranger things, harry potter (any era), scream

WARNINGS: fem reader, shit writing, established relationship, peter and reader are implied to be in college/uni, SMUT (18+), very little plot tbh, heavy praise kink, softdom!peter vibes, fingering (f!rec), very light nipple play, SUPER slight dacryphilia if u squint, peter is talkative, not proofread and written instead of sleeping, lmk if i missed smth!

A/N: is it 8am? yeah. did i just spend the last two hours writing this mess? also yeah. enjoy!

ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY ARE 18+ remember to like, comment, and reblog to support my writing!

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Six hours. That’s how long it’s been since you showed up at Peter’s front door. Six hours spent right next to him, talking to him, touching him, and yet you still find yourself longing for more. Even now as you sit between his legs, back to his chest, his hands kindly twisting at your hair, your thoughts have you squirming in your seat.

The two of you had set up this study date a few days back, anticipating the opportunity to spend time together (without sacrificing your grades). Unfortunately, you were having a hard time focusing on schoolwork.

No matter how much you tried to focus on your paper, you couldn’t stop your mind, and your eyes, from wandering. You caught yourself staring at how pretty his hands looked as he hurriedly wrote down equations, admiring how cute he looked sitting crisscross in his plaid pajama pants and science pun t-shirt, how his voice sounded just slightly deeper when he was concentrating, or how soft his lips look right now. You actually thought you were going to lose it when the praise “Good job, babe. This looks perfect!” fell casually from his lips while reading your completed assignment, sealing it with a kiss to your temple.

You felt like you were going insane, but the thing is, so was Peter. You hadn’t seen each other for nearly three weeks prior to this study date, outside of passing in the halls or a quick call before bed. Between you trying to prepare for a major presentation coming up and Peter’s multitude of responsibilities, neither of you had much energy, let alone time, left to spend on anything else.

Of course, you love everything about Peter, unconditionally. That includes his web-slinging alter ego. However, it can get a little frustrating having to go weeks on end without being able to hold a conversation with him. Especially when all people talk about is the amazing spider-man, listening to girls fawn over your boyfriend for hours a day, and feeling just as fangirl-ish. You found yourself daydreaming about him to pass the time, acting like a schoolgirl with a hopeless crush.

Seeing him again after so long with so little contact is like a wake up call for your senses. You'd been so buried in your studies that you didn’t even realize just how much you missed him until you knocked on his front door.

- “Are you okay?”

Your thoughts dissolve as Peter draws your attention back to the present. When you snap back to reality, you’re immediately reminded of what caused the spiral of daydreams to begin with. You can feel the warmth of his body behind yours, the contour of his toned chest pressing against your back. You feel your whole body heat up.

“Mhm, I’m great!” you squeak out, internally wincing at the shakiness in your voice. Your usually bright and vibrant tone is completely gone, replaced with something resembling more of a whisper than anything else.

Safe to say, Peter isn’t buying it.

His best guess is that you’re upset about something that happened today. Maybe stressed about the presentation you have coming up. He knows it sometimes takes you a while to open up, so for now, he decides to let it go. In an attempt to settle your mind, he slides a hand down your arm to lace his fingers through yours.

Unfortunately, it does the exact opposite. The innocent action leaves a trail of goosebumps behind and makes your breathing pattern pick up ever so slightly. You can only hope that Peter doesn't notice.

He does.

“Are you cold?”

You shake your head, taking deep breaths to steady yourself. “No, I’m alright.” Loosely translated, means I actually feel like I’m burning from the inside out.

“Do you not like the movie? We can change it if you want to watch something else.” he offers sweetly, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. “You’ve been all spacey for the past half an hour.”

Your breath hitches, feeling like you’ve been caught red handed. Of course he would notice. He may be a little oblivious sometimes, but when it comes down to it, Peter knows you better than you know yourself.

“The movie’s fine.” You struggle a bit to formulate a response, feeling your whole body heat up like a furnace. To evade the silence, you stutter out a weak, “I was just… thinking?”

You immediately want to light yourself on fire, deciding the silence would have been better.

“Thinking about what?” he asks. Not prying, just curious. “Must be something pretty important. Your heart is beating a mile a minute.” He softly laughs at his own words, causing you to shrink into yourself. He’s not laughing at you, but it definitely feels that way.

You fidget with Peter’s fingers in your palm, eyes locking on the movie as nerves wrack through your body. “It’s nothing.” You speak so quietly, he’s thankful for his enhanced hearing.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” you can practically hear the concerned furrow in his brow as he brings your still interlaced hands to his lips, leaving feather-light kisses to each knuckle. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

His patient and caring nature never fails to make you fall more and more in love with him, if that’s even possible.

Then, as if you weren’t enough of a mess, what really does it is when Peter leaves the faintest kiss to the base of your neck. A gesture meant to signal patience and understanding towards your “anxiety” only causes your thighs to squeeze together against your will, and before you can think enough to stop it, an airy, barely audible whine escapes the back of your throat, so soft it could pass as a sigh to the average ear.

Nothing about Peter is average.

He stills against your skin, causing your eyes snap open in horror as the realization hits you. Manicured hands immediately cover your face to shield you from the embarrassment.

They don’t stay long as Peter wastes no time in reaching up to gently pry your hands away. You feel like you could burst into tears at any moment from the sheer shame and frustration.

“Hey, hey-”, he holds both hands gently, rubbing sweet circles to soothe you, “No need to be embarrassed. You can talk to me.”

You don’t move your gaze from your lap.

“Come on, beautiful. Look at me.” He asks so gently that you comply before you can even think otherwise. His eyes are soft and kind, looking at you with all the love in the world. He makes you feel safe.

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about? Hm?”

You blink up at him owlishly, feeling like there would be a question mark floating over your head if you looked up.

“That’s why you were all spacey? You were thinking about me…” he leans his head down, lips grazing your collarbone, “kissing you?”

Your breath catches.

"Or, maybe..." your eyes are glued as he moves his hand from your hold, delicately trailing it down your stomach, past your hip, and slowly down to the inside of your thigh. So close to where you’ve needed him for the past three weeks. “-you were thinking about me touching you?”

Your heart rate picks up by a tenfold, and Peter can hear it hammering in your chest.

Waiting for a response, he’s met with nothing but your heavy breathing. He carefully digs his fingertips into the doughy flesh of your thigh. “Is that what you want? Do you want me to touch you?”

Another airy whimper tumbles from your lips, reluctantly nodding in response to his questions, needing him too badly to care about the shame you feel at your neediness.

Peter smiles, rewarding your response by trailing his sweet kisses up your neck, taking his time to feel you shiver under his touch. His warm lips finally reach the shell of your ear.

“All you have to do is ask.”

He resumes his attack on your neck, now bolder in his movements as he licks and bites and sucks at your skin, trying to find the spot that makes your eyes flutter shut.

Caught up in the feeling of his warm mouth against your skin, you don’t even notice as he hooks your ankles over his, slowly spreading your legs wider and wider, until your skirt rides up your legs.

Peter smiles against your skin when a shaky sigh reaches his ears, your hips bucking up in sync. He’s found it. Peter focuses all of his attention on that spot, nipping and sucking at it until you’re sure he’s going to leave a mark. The hand on your thigh squeezes gently every time you move your hips, and you have to chew on your lip to stop the mortifyingly desperate sounds from spilling out.

“Is this what you had in mind, baby?” the words rumble against your skin, sending a chill down your spine, “Is this what you needed?”

Your hips buck again at that, pouting with the hope that he takes the hint. You feel your body melt into him when his tongue darts out to soothe the fresh mark he’s left on your neck.

Of course, he does get the hint, but there’s no way he’s letting you off the hook that easily.

He inches his hand higher and higher up your thigh, slipping underneath the pretty little skirt he had bought for you as a gift a few months ago. You tense in anticipation.

“What is it?” amusement evident in his tone as he asks you. He loves that he gets to be the one that makes you this needy. “Come on, baby. Tell me.”

You almost sob in frustration, not wanting to say it out loud, but the ache between your legs is becoming unbearable.

His hand barely brushes against your panties, making your chest tighten as you suppress the urge to grind into it.

“Tell me what you need me to do.”

You can’t handle it any longer.

“Please!” You all-but shout, free hand grabbing at his arm, “Please touch me, Pete!” You cry out, already sounding wrecked and he hadn’t even really done anything yet.

Peter beams at how vocal he had gotten you, leaning his head further down to meet your lips for the first time since you got here all those hours ago. It felt like drinking water after being stranded in a desert for days. You missed the way his lips felt. The way they tasted. You crave more.

Then, he mutters two words against your lips that manage to make your hazy brain short circuit.

“Good girl.”

Your groans are pathetic, being swallowed by Peter’s tongue as he rocks his palm against you through your pretty pink panties.

He can’t help but laugh a little, giddy at the sounds spilling out of you at even the lightest touch of his hand.

“Is that better?” he asks, breaking away for air. “This what you've been daydreamin' about?” He already knows what you really want, he always does, but he wants to hear you say it one more time. Just one more confirmation and he’ll give you anything you need.

Now that your mind is so clouded with pleasure, you don’t give it a second thought. “More-” you can’t barely get out a sentence between mewls, “Please, Peter, I need more-”

Before you can say another word, he’s pushing your underwear aside. Your head falls limp against Peter’s shoulder as he gathers your slick, dragging it up to finally circle your puffy clit.

Without his mouth to drown them out, your moans flow freely from you, drowning out the long-forgotten movie playing in the distance. Peter goes back to kissing your neck, deciding to mark every area of your skin that he can reach.

“I’m sorry, baby.” he soothes, nipping at the skin right under your jaw, his own heartbeat jumping at every noise he pulls from you, “Bet you’ve been achey all day, huh?”

You nod your head, barely registering his words as pleasure rolls through your body.

He lets out an almost mocking “Aww, honey…” as you buck your hips against his fingers, “Been so patient for me, huh? Waiting all day for me to make you feel good?”

“Mhm” mixed with your pants, words tumble from your mouth without a single thought to how eager you sound, “Feels so- ohhh… sososo good-”

All you can think about is the way Peters rough fingertips feel absolutely euphoric as he swirls and flicks at your clit, and how his lips sear every inch of your skin, and how his scent and his warmth consumes and takes over every thought floating around in your blissed-out head.

“You sound so pretty-” he peppers hot kisses across your shoulder, “Making so many pretty sounds…”

Peter bends his legs a little, which in turn, bends yours. The move spreads you out just a little bit more, but its enough to send little shockwaves of pleasure through you, making you jolt and gasp at the feeling.

Peter loves the way you look when you get like this. Skin sticky with heat, eyes screwed shut, mouth hanging open in bliss. He thinks you looks like a goddess.

Your moans start to sound more and more like a plea, hips grinding against Peter’s fingers subconsciously as you feel the heat slowly taking over. You need more.

“Peter, pleaseee-“

“Shh, It’s okay.” his fingers glide down to your entrance, coating themselves with slick, “I’ve got you, pretty girl.”

Your eyes practically roll into your skull as he slips two fingers inside of you with ease. The stretch feels incredible, and you can’t help but squeeze the hand that's still holding yours, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Oh my god-“

Peter kisses back up until he reaches your lips again, grinning as you can barely reciprocate. The gentle nature of his kiss makes your head spin and your core clench around his fingers.

“Doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

You feel your lashes begin to collect tears at the overwhelming feeling pulsing through you. This has been building up for weeks.

“Always so good for me.”

Achey little noises spill from your lips onto Peter’s, breathing labored and heaving as the only thought filling your head is Peter Peter Peter.

Then suddenly your mind goes completely blank, gasping back a choked moan as your body goes limp, jaw slacking against Peter’s deep kisses. Your whole body feels like it's buzzing with electricity, and your head feels static in the most amazing way.

Peter pulls back for a moment to watch your face scrunch up in ecstasy, as he rubs against your spot over and over and over again. “There she is.” he coos, admittedly a little proud of himself, and you’re too fucked out to pick up on the mocking tone. He watches in awe as you start to fall apart.

“Takin’ my fingers so well, baby.”

You start to clench tighter around him, using your free hand to grip his wrist like a vice. Peter goes back to kissing your open mouth, sucking and nipping at your bottom lip as you pulse and twitch under his touch.

Panting turns back into whimpers which turns into tears as Peter massages your walls just right, hitting all the right places and stretching you out sooo perfectly.

You can feel pressure building up rapidly in your stomach, back arching up as your body starts to shake from the intensity. Peter shifts so he can watch the way your hips chase his fingers and your chest heaves for air.

“You’re so close, sweetheart. You can do it.” he praises, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge, “Almost there-“

The knot keeps winding tighter and tighter, and whiny begs and pleads start to pour out of you. Lots of “Oh my god, Pete“ or “Please” and “So good-“

Hand over yours, Peter glides your intertwined hands up your body and over your arched ribcage. He slides your hands under your his t-shirt, using his thumb to push your smaller one back and forth over your peak, a long chant of mumbled Peter’s tumble from your kiss-bitten lips.

“I know, baby, I know.” he consoles you, copying the pouty tone of your voice, “Just feels too good, huh?”

You nod your head frantically, still not catching onto the the tease, only caring about chasing your release.

He presses his lips to your ear, “Waited so long for this, honey. You deserve to feel good.”

He pumps his fingers a little bit faster.

“Gonna make you feel so good-“

You start to grind your hips up again, gasping when his palm rubs against your clit with each thrust.

“Pete-” the knot is getting tighter, “Oh my god, Peter- I’m…“ and tighter, “I’m gonna-”

“Let go for me, babe.”

Thats all you needed for your vision to go white hot, mouth falling open with a silent scream as stars dance behind your eyelids.

“There ya go”

“Just like that, pretty girl”

“Let it all out, baby”

He peppers kisses on your burning skin and slows his movements as he works you through your high. As you come down from it, your body goes limp on top of him, a lazy smile stretching on your lips. Peter can’t help but smile too, chest swelling in satisfaction that he was the one who put that smile on your face.

You wince a little as he slowly pulls his fingers from your core, eyes following as he brings them up to his lips to clean them off.

“Feel better?” this time you can definitely hear the cockiness in his tone, smacking him weakly on the arm. “Shut up.”

You turn around just enough to kiss him. This time, it’s slow, and careful, and loving, and you have to pull away and bury your face in his chest to hide the lovesick look in your eyes. Both of you burst out giggling, and Peter can't stop himself from wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you as close as possible. He’s missed you more than you could possibly ever know.

As relaxation coats you like a warm, fuzzy blanket, you shift your weight to get comfortable.

“Ah, don’t-“

Peter squeezes his eyes shut, hissing at the sudden pressure and gripping your hips to keep you still. “Can't do that...”

Now it’s his turn to get flustered.

His face goes beet red as you jump up in confusion. When you look down, you notice a painful looking bulge in his jeans. Your stomach twists with the knowledge that you did that to him.

You weren’t the only one who’s been touch deprived.

“Oh! Sorry…” you giggle a little at the accidental stimulation, looking back up at Peter with a playful smile of your own. “Your turn!”

______________________________________________________________

part 2??

[sgojoenthusiast]

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ KINKTOBER 2023 ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

➸ DAY TWO: HORROR MOVIE.

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*

summary: Mikasa loves when you and her stay in to watch a horror movie together. For her, theres nothing better than the way you cling on to her, scared, because fuck does it turn her on.

CW: fem reader, bondage, knife play, mikasa accidentally cuts reader, reader lowkey into it, pain, blood, injury, thigh riding, scissoring, oral, spitting, 'Good girl', 'Baby'

word count: 3k

likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

masterlist.

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*

Mikasa couldn't help the rush she felt watching horror movies with you, curled up in your bed in matching plaid pyjamas. It wasn't the kind of rush you'd expect someone to get whilst watching a horror movie.

For you, there was a lurking feeling of not knowing what to expect and the terror that comes with it. There was an addicting thrill that came in the form of gorey murders and jumpscares.

However, Mikasa remained unbothered by the predictable plot twists, non-frightening jumpscares, shitty acting and the fake blood. Yet, out of all the dates she had taken you on, all of the nights watching movies she enjoyed and the endless amounts of romantic moments the two of you shared, her favourite times were when you insist you watch a scary film. The way you'd hold tightly onto her arm and bury your head into her side, admiring her fearless state - and don't even start on the cute squeals that would come out of your mouth at the most predictable jump scare.

Nothing made her so desperate to slam the laptop shut and haul you over her lap so that she could take you right then and there.

Like, for example, right now. The two of you were laying in your bed, cuddled up with a blanket as candles illuminated the otherwise dark room, the only other light being the one coming from your laptop presenting the movie.

Mikasa had one arm around you as you were bunched up next to her, your head buried in her side, peeking out of the corner of your eye as you watched with dread what was about to come up next. Mikasa had no clue what was going on as she hadn't been paying attention to the screen in front of her, more so to the way your hand was placed on her thigh, your grip tightening whenever you got scared.

She knew you’d be annoyed if you figured out she wasn’t paying attention, but what was she supposed to do? 

The way your eyes were glued to the screen, yet your hand only wandered further up her thighs made her wonder whether you were doing it on purpose. She was almost positive you were clueless to your own roaming hand, yet something about the way your fingers danced dangerously close to her aching cunt was telling her otherwise. 

Though, this wasn’t an uncommon situation you’d put both you and your girlfriend in. For example, like when you’re out at one of friends houses, you’ll commonly place your head on her thighs and look up at her with an unknowing glint in your eyes whilst she glares warningly at you. Or, when your hand slips down her arm and around her waist, and even when you’d hug her and your head would sit comfortably on her chest. Perhaps, it’s Mikasa’s mind diverging to risky places from your innocent, yet lingering, hands. Or maybe, it’s you putting on a faux act of innocence just to get her riled up.

Nevertheless, you were driving her further away from her own sanity with just the touch of your hand. It was shocking how much control you had over her, even though you weren’t paying the slightest of attention to her.

Without warning, a sudden jumpscare flashed onto the screen of your laptop. You jumped, a squeal living your lips as one of your hands tugs at Mikasa's shirt, and the other… the other squeezes her thigh, hard. 

“Fuck-” Mikasa cursed, her thoughts running wild as she instinctively placed her hand over yours through the blanket separating you both.

You sat up quickly, a panicked expression painted on your face. “Oh my god, Mika, I’m so sorry! I did I hurt you?--”

She looked at you inquisitively and in disbelief. “You have seriously no fucking clue what you’re doing to me, don’t you?”

The look of panic morphed into one of shock. There was a hint of anger and frustration in Mikasa’s voice which made you slightly nervous. Have you done something wrong? Is she angry at you? You couldn’t find the right words, her sudden aggression confused you and threw you off slightly. You felt hot and nervous. All you could do was gulp in anticipation and ask: “What do you mean, Mika?”

She rolled her eyes at you and swiftly moved the laptop to the floor and threw you over one of her thighs so that you straddled her. This time, it was her hand that wandered up your arm and up to your cheek, taking your chin in her grip and leaning forward. 

Staying silent, her lips hovered in front of your own, yet when you tried to lean in to kiss her, the grip on your chin grew more harsh as a warning. You whimpered slightly. 

“Did you not like the movie?” You muttered against Mikasa’s lips. In response, she laughed slightly, it was curt yet fond.

“Baby, I couldn’t pay attention with your hand rubbing my thigh like that.” Her hand dropped to your hip, rubbing her thumb affectionately.

“Oh.” You felt flustered and slightly embarrassed that you hadn’t even realised, too immersed in the movie to care about what your own body was doing. Your head had turned away to look at the wall, too self-conscious to look into Mikasa’s eyes, yet your actions only annoyed her further.

Her affectionate hand on your hip turned harsh as it once again gripped your chin to turn your head back to look at her. “You don’t take your eyes off of me, understand?”

You mumbled out profuse apologies, earning Mikasa’s hand to drop back down to your hip before an idea had sparked in her mind.

Leaning over to your bedside table, she opened the bottom drawer to find some of the rope from the last time you had needed it.

A malicious smirk grew on her face to contrast the nervous one on your own. She tilted her head at you, silently telling you to put your hands behind your back and yet you had heard every word of it, slowly putting your arms behind your back, your eyes never leaving Mikasa’s.

“Good girl.” She tied your hands together tightly, and moved the rope around to see if it was too tight. “Is that okay?” 

You nodded silently, biting your lip.

However, Mikasa had realised that there was another problem standing in between the two of you and her bringing you pleasure. Going back to that same drawer, she pulled out a knife from within it, making your eyes go wide as she began to cut through the material of your plaid pyjama bottoms.

“Mika!” you scolded, yet she only gave you a look of ‘What else was I supposed to do?’

“I’ll buy you some more.” was the only other response you got, yet just as you were about to reply, she pulled your panties to the side and guided your hips to grind back and forth against her thigh. 

You let out a cry of pleasure as your clit made contact with the material of her matching pyjamas, yet you could feel the muscle of her thigh nevertheless.

The hold she had on your hips as she dragged you along her thigh and the pace that she had set was ruthless as she watched you with half a grin on her otherwise emotionless face.

You gasped and whined at the feeling of your pussy grinding on her thigh as your hands itched to be freed so that you could touch her, and if it wasn’t for her own hands holding you up, you’re certain that the pleasure would have made you lose balance. 

Your eyes were tightly knitted shut and she uttered comforting words and praises into your ear. “You’re such a good girl f’me, baby.” Her eyes were glued to the wetness of your cunt, soaking the material of her bottoms. “Look at you, so wet and needy. You like rubbing your desperate pussy all over me, baby, hm?” She asked before sliding her index finger through your wet folds and brought it to her lips, licking it clean.

She hummed in delight, sighing at the taste of you. “So sweet. Now answer my question baby. You like this?”

Your mind was foggy and your eyes were still on her lips from when she had slipped her finger past them. You nodded endlessly. “Feels so good Mika. Please don’t stop!--”

Nearing your high, you pressed your hips harder down onto her thigh, aiming desperately to finish. Your clit was throbbing and your mind was all over the place yet stayed only on one topic - Mikasa. She was making you feel unbearably amazing, you had never felt so pleasured and had never reached an orgasm so intensely or quickly before.

“You about to come, baby? C’mon, come for me.” She asked you. Mikasa adored the look on your face whenever you came. Your lips would part, and your eyes would shut securely as the cutest noises of pleasure would exit your lips.

At her words, as if your body reacted to her demand, you came instantly, gushing all over her thigh as your juices soaked through and dripped down her bottoms. You clenched around nothing as your core pulsated.

Throwing your head back, one of Mikasa’s hands naturally went to support your head as the other held you firmly, unwilling to let you go.

Your breaths were heavy and laboured, yet both of you knew it wasn’t about to stop there. 

Mikasa grinned as you attempted to shuffle off her lap, jumping when she brought her leg up to bump against your clit, earning her a scornful look which morphed into a pout on your face.

As she took off her pyjama bottoms, she laughed and said: “Might have to buy some more for myself as well, you know.” 

But, just before she removed her underwear, another one of her ideas, which were only ever fun for her, popped into her head as she lay back down on the bed. You could tell that she was soaking wet.

You gave her a serious look. “If you want me to eat you out, Mika, you’ll have to take those off plus these ropes.”

In return, she only gave you a playful smile, accompanied by a sly glint in her eyes. “Hm…” She pretended to think as you tilted your head at her and raised an eyebrow. “No, I don’t think I will.”

You could tell that it was somewhat of a challenge, and though, sure, it would be fun for her to watch as you struggled to take her underwear off with just your teeth and then to bury your face into her pussy without the support of your hands to hold you up, yet it would only prolong her pleasure and take more time for you to make her feel good. 

Therefore, it was about 10 percent less humiliating as you tried to take her panties off with just your teeth. Eventually though, you had managed, and as you slid them down her legs, she caressed your head and purred out a ‘Good girl’, resulting in your legs shifting against each other desperate for friction once more. She only gave you a small scolding look before telling you to start and not to tease her.

Her hand held onto your head and kept you up as your tongue began to run through her folds. Mikasa was typically quiet, so she only let out a small sigh and threw her head back at the contact. 

Your tongue glided through her pussy and slurped up all her juices whilst you teased her hole with your tongue. 

The grip on your head became harder. “What did I tell you about teasing?”

You took her words seriously and began to only focus on pleasuring her. Your tongue moved in all the right ways, switching between circling her clit and prodding at her tongue. You moaned into her pussy, sending the vibrations straight through her and making it harder to contain her voice, though she remained persistent.

The sounds of slurping smacked against the walls of the room, you sucked and licked as though you’d been dehydrated and deprived of any liquid for far too long. Her juices leaked down your chin and covered the bed yet you continued to relentlessly eat her out.

Mikasa couldn’t take much more before she was pushing your head further into her pussy and came all over your face, yet you continued your attack on her pussy, tongue still pummeling in and out of her hole through her orgasm. 

A string of profanities spewed out of her mouth as she grinded herself up against your face, bucking her hips into your mouth.

When she had come down from her high, you removed your mouth and peppered kisses all over her thighs as she attempted to catch her breath.

“Fuck, you are amazing at that.” Mikasa moved away from you, standing up off the bed as you rolled onto your back and grinned up at her, licking your lips. She grabbed a tissue from your bedside table and leaned down over you to clean around your mouth before she placed her lips against yours and shoved her tongue deep down your throat.

Soon, she was over your lap, hands roaming all over your body as she kissed you intensely. Your lips were so soft and she could taste herself against your tongue.

“I need you again, Mika, please.” You whispered against her lips, she started to trail kisses across your jaw and down your throat and you could feel her smirk through each kiss.

“Oh yeah? How bad do you need me, baby?” Her voice left goosebumps all over you.

She took her shirt off, and with your hands still bound behind your back, cut yours open with the same knife she had used previously. 

“So fuckin’ bad, Mika. My pussy was made for you to fuck it, I need you against her so, so bad.” You whined and writhed underneath her, yet her lips continued to trail down your chest until they got down to your tits. Taking one in her mouth, she groaned lowly and looked up at your face contorted with pleasure.  

Her tongue moved and teased your nipple before she spat between your tits and moved onto the other nipple. Your hips bucked up into her, pleading and eager for more.

Mikasa sat you up and grabbed the knife once more, too impatient to take her time to undo the knot she had formed. She reached behind you and severed the ropes, though in the process she accidentally grazed your hand. 

“Shit!” Mikasa winced, the ropes fell behind you on the bed as both of your hands were quickly brought forward so that Mikasa could inspect the damage. Her mind was so clouded by the fact she had cut you, that she didn’t realise the soft moan that had escaped your lips reluctantly until a few moments after.

Her eyes widened. “D- did you just–”

Your lips went to hover in front of hers. “Don’t worry about it Mika,” referring to her initial worry and concern at hurting you, kissing her gently and then pulling away and smirking against her lips. “I kinda liked it.” 

“Shit- I knew you were perfect for me.” She brought her lips back down to yours, her panic having subsided and replaced by a throb in between her legs. “What I didn’t know… was that you were such a pain slut, baby.”

Mikasa dragged the knife down your chest, the feeling of cool steel against your warm breasts made you shiver and roll your head back moaning. Yet, Mikasa had decided to store this newfound kink of yours into the back of her mind, as right now, her pussy was begging to feel your own. 

Throwing the knife to the side and swiping the rope off the bed from behind you, she laid you down on the bed and lifted your legs up and spread them apart after tearing your panties off.

Her pussy hovers over yours and when she finally settles down, closing the gap between the two of you, you gasped in delight.

Mikasa began to grind against your pussy slowly, holding onto you for some stability. 

As time moved on, Mikasa grew more eager and unable to refrain from holding back. She ground up against you feverishly, incapable of going easy on you and unwilling to stop.

She humps against you, rubbing her wet pussy against yours, your clit bumping against hers in the most ethereal way. 

The room was crammed with the sounds of your pussies smacking against each other in the most filthy and lewd way possible. The sounds of squelching and slapping made its way to your ears along with your voice whimpering and crying out Mikasa’s name. “Faster, Mika, please!”

You buck your hips against her own, attempting to get closer and go faster. Mikasa let out a low groan at the friction. “Fuck– Shit your pussy’s so wet.”

Your arm reached up to hold Mikasa’s hips, and when Mikasa looked down, she saw a trail of blood running down your arm. “Shit, you actually into that shit, baby? So fuckin’ hot.” When she heard the way you moaned, she took her hand and slapped you harshly across your face. You gasped a mixture of pain and pleasure, your mouth hung open silently. “You’re such a dirty girl, aren’t you baby?”

Nodding your head at her words, your hands gripped the sheets harshly.

Your thighs were soaking with both yours and Mikasa’s juices and you bit your lip at the thought.

Mikasa leaned down, her chest pressing against yours and your lips connected in a passionate kiss. The feeling of her tits rubbing against yours along with your pussies was driving you insane, you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“‘M gonna cum, I cant- fuck!” you squirted over Mikasa’s pussy, drenching her yet simultaneously sending her over the edge.

She cried out your name in pleasure as she came, her hips stuttering against yours.

Mikasa collapsed on top of you, sighing deeply into your ear as she pulled you close and kissed your neck. The two of you bathed comfortably in the silence of your own breathing and the feeling of being pressed against one another as you recovered from the breathlessness.

A few minutes later, she pulled away and caressed your cheek, staring at you with lovesick eyes. “I knew you were perfect for me, baby.” She smiled, kissing your face. “Let's get you cleaned up, okay?”

[misc-obeyme]

SLEEPOVER SLEEPOVER SLEEPOVER

On the way up to Mammon's apartment, he's definitely complaining he won't be able to sleep. "N-Not because I'm scared or anything from the movie! It's just ... T-The plot twist was so crazy, I-I'm gonna think about it all night!" Poor Mammon.

okay Mammon's apartment is above the coffee shop. I'm thinking it's a maybe two rooms and one bathroom. But one is his bedroom and the other he uses as his office/storage, so Solomon and I will have to sleep on the pullout couch. Solomon does offer to take a sleeping bag if I'm not okay with sharing, and I stubbornly reject his proposal. That wouldn't be fair.

But it'd be cute if we all got changed into our pajamas and got ready for bed together (Solomon in a long sleeve shirt and plaid pants gotta save the tattoos as a surprise, Mammon in a tank top and sweats, me in a comfy shirt and shorts.) I gotta admit, I am dying slightly getting to see Mammon in a tank top, but am doing my best to hold it together. Solomon on the other hand is mostly unaffected. There is the tiniest hint of a blush on his face though.

But everyone getting ready for bed in the bathroom together would be so domestic akdjd. Asmo has definitely roped Mammon and Solomon into having skincare routines, so they're squinting at each other when they notice similar products. Meanwhile I've finished brushing my teeth and take my hair out of it's ponytail, which has the two of them looking at me like I've grown a third head because they've never seen me with my hair all the way down.

Mammon gets everything set up, pillows, blankets, everything, and tells us to wake him up if we need anything before he heads to his room. Now I get to share the couch with Solomon, but I'm definitely curled up on the edge and trying to take as little space as possible to not bother him. It takes what feels like forever for me to fall asleep. But the horror movie is still fresh in my mind. It was all I could think about before sleeping, and I have trouble sleeping in new places as well.

I'm woken up by Solomon shaking me and startled as hell when they're both leaning over me, before I remember where I am. Solomon says I was tossing and turning, and sounded upset. And he had knocked over something trying to turn on the light, which in turn woke up Mammon. Though, by the looks of it, Mammon hadn't even went to sleep in the first place. I sheepishly apologize to both of them, trying to tell them they don't need to worry.

Solomon is having none of it, and he definitely picks up on how rough Mammon looks. Once again, he is the one to initiate things. He scoots over on the couch, before beckoning Mammon over. Mammon scoffs and denies that he needs any comfort and that the futon will be too small. Solomon pats the space next to him again, but with a stern smile, and Mammon is quick to comply. "I meant it when I said I'd protect you both."

Mammon is grumbling but he doesn't fight when Solomon pulls him against his chest so he can lay his head down, he's just blushing hard.

As always, I'm more hesitant to be vulnerable because I'm not used to this, even when the cuddles look so tempting. But Solomon is a sly mf. He reaches out to run his fingers through my hair, making me jump at first before relaxing. He scratches at my scalp, sneakily guiding me down to also curl up against him. And it's hard to be scared or nervous when I'm feeling so cared for. I can hear Sol's heartbeat like this, and despite him taking the initiative and appearing calm, his heart is racing as fast as mine, probably as fast as Mammon's too- Oh wait, he's snoring quietly. It didn't take long for him to pass out. We both share a glance and snicker at the adorable sight.

My own eyes feel heavy, and Sol's hands are moving slower and slower. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, draping my arm across his waist as I press my face against him. There's no more nightmares for anyone that night. Only the best sleep anyone's ever had.

So good that Mammon sleeps through his first alarm, and tries to ignore his second one. He groans and sinks deeper into the warmth, only to be startled by someone chuckling. Solomon, who is tracing patterns on Mammon's bicep, and is groggy af but had been woken by the persistent alarm (he is not a morning person). Meanwhile, I'm out like a light.

Mammon gets embarrassed when he recalls everything that happened last night, but he's never felt so well rested, even on only a couple hours of sleep. He disentangles himself reluctantly, only because he needs to get ready for work and actually get up if he wants the alarm to stop blasting. It wouldn't be fair to make the other two suffer. He quiets any half asleep protests, pulling the blanket over Solomon and I before he gets ready for the day as quietly as possible and heads downstairs to begin baking. He's definitely running behind.

'Come down when you two wake up. I'll have fresh coffees and pastries, so don't keep me waiting, yeah?' - Sticky note left on Sol's forehead, with a heart scrawled out and the smiley Mammon always uses next to it instead.

AKSJD THIS GOT LONG AGAIN WAHH. Horror devilgrams and the bed sharing that ensues lives rent free in my mind. The way both Mammon AND MC had nightmares about the other being the bad guy after watching the scissor movie. Rip them.

Solomon is always in the middle, living his best life !! I'm sure they'll take turns being in the middle once they actually get together, but they always end up a mess of limbs by morning. Y'know, whenever they get together. Omg. Is this a slow burn ?? Oops. They're gonna have a happy ending !! Yeah!!....just ...... Some obstacles to get there 😗 ahem, learning to let people in... The boys are going to be losing it with my obliviousness as well aksjd. Wish them luck.

*checks notes* Playlist drama next ?! I think I might add the concert scene before Halloween party, for a little bit of ✨ spice ✨ (the emotional kind, not the frisky one unfortunately saving that for halloween AHAHA) ... I really gotta figure out the time line! I keep thinking of scenes aaaa. We'll see. OKAY BYEEE, HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT/DAWN UHHH... MAY A SUPER GOOD SALE COME TO YOUR LOCAL SUPERMARKET ON YOUR FAVORITE SNACK ?? WISHING THAT BC I HAVEN'T GOTTEN BETTER WITH HYDRATION AJSD

- ✨ anon

GOOD LUCK, BOYS. I AM ROOTING FOR YOU!!!

Can I just say how much I love these updates? I look forward to every single one! When I see it, I'm always like awww yes I'm gonna get cozy and enjoy the latest scenario with these three cuties!!

AND I LOVED THIS SO MUCH. AHhhhh Solomon is the glue that brings you all together!! 'Cause without him, this would be an EVEN SLOWER burn, y'all are lucky to have him lol.

Yes yes yes I was HOPING that they'd all end up cuddling together, it's seriously so sweet!!! I love it so much! And Mammon just being like ugh I gotta get up and omg the sticky note!

I also love the domesticness of them all getting ready for bed together! Ahh domestic scenes are the best!

OH NO DRAMA. I'm ready!!

And personally, I love slow burns! It takes time to let someone in when you're guarded like that!! I like when characters take the time to really get to know each other!

Anyway, I am loving it all as always!! I hope you also have a wonderful day/night/etc!

[mistysimpingandspam]

in my arms. (eddie munson x reader)

plot synopsis: reader is scared of thunder and eddie comforts them. this is totally not self indulgent after being scared by the storm we had last night-

tw: swearing, crying, reader has a panic attack, fluff, eddie just being an amazing partner, pet names

also this is lowkey my favorite gif of eds🥰

it was already pouring by the time you got to your boyfriend’s house. the two of you had been dating for about three weeks, and you’d been getting together with him every friday night for movies and cuddles.

you rapped your knuckles against the window of the door hastily, pulling your hoodie in around yourself to try to keep warm from the pouring rain. the door opened, and you were met with the beautiful face of your partner.

“hey, come in, quick!” he exclaimed, putting an arm around you. “we wouldn’t want you catching a cold.” you were rushed into the trailer and brought back to eddie’s room.

“here we are.” he said quietly. turning to you, he clicked his tongue. “you’re soaking. let me get you some spare clothes.” before you could protest, eddie walked around you to his closet. grabbing a metallica shirt and a pair of red plaid pajama pants, he tossed you the clothes. “go change in the bathroom, sweetheart.”

you retreated to the bathroom and peeled off your drenched clothes, hanging them in the shower to dry. as you put on the shirt, the lights flickered. you looked at the bulbs puzzled, but you were interrupted by a tremendous clap of thunder. you froze, gripping the sink as you felt your heart beat quicken. through the small window in the bathroom, you saw a flash of lightning, and just seconds later, a boom of thunder that nearly shook the house. letting out a small shriek, you dropped to the floor, throwing your hands over your ears. tears started to fall as your breathing became more rapid.

eddie was going through his movie collection when he heard a yelp from the bathroom. putting “the breakfast club” down, he stood up and walked to the bathroom. he lightly knocked on the door.

“(y/n)?” he called out. no response. he knocked again, and a crack of thunder covered up him calling your name again. that’s when he heard sobs coming from the other side. forgetting his manners, eddie twisted the doorknob and opened the door, finding you on the bathroom floor. you were shaking like a leaf with your hands over your ears, crying as the storm went on.

“hey, hey, hey.” your partner was quick to drop to the floor, putting a hand on top of your head. you recoiled slightly at his touch, and he grabbed one of your hands. “what’s the matter?” you went to answer, but you were interrupted by the thunder outside. your hand slid from eddie’s quickly and went back over your ear.

“i think i get it now.” eddie spoke quietly to himself, then to you. “oh, sweetness.” his arms quickly went around your shoulders as he pulled you to his chest, your arms going around his waist as you buried your face against him. sniffling, you jumped at the next round of thunder, which was a bit quieter than the previous. your partner rubbed your back in soothing circles, rocking you side to side. “it’s okay, it’s okay…” he said it over and over. “just stay with me in my arms, love. i promise, you’re okay.”

the two of you stayed together for a good ten minutes before the weather started to lighten up. each clap of thunder had you squeezing eddie tight, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. all he wanted in that moment was to protect you from all of your fears. at last, eddie let you go and you looked up at him.

“wanna go to my room?” he asked. you nodded, and he lead you by the hand back to his bedroom. grabbing a cassette, he put the headphones connected to the player over your ears. pressing play, the song “you give love a bad name” started pumping into your ears. as the song started up, the thunder started up again, but it was drowned out by the music. pulling you against his chest, eddie kissed your forehead. “you’re safe, i promise.”

[whumping-in-the-dark]

Chapter 4: Visitor Pt 1

Just two friends hanging out after a long time ^_^

Speaking of friends, a big thank u to my irl friend for reading through this :D who doesn't have tumblr yet hence no tagging :/ so if there are any grammar mistakes left it's on her 6u6

Ingredients: creepy/intimate whumpers, alluded future noncon [Honestly... more plot than pain. Mostly the introduction of a new character. I felt like wanting to keep the major torture stuff separate. So the hopefully good whump in the next part promsies]

Matt groaned as he shifted once more, trying to find a decent position in which to relax. He thought it'd be easy at first, but the man had tied his wrists actually closer to his knees than his ankles, forcing him to strain his shoulders. Not to mention, his ankles kept twisting the wrong way, and no matter how hard he tried he simply couldn't get himself to lie on his side. Each effort ended up in him nearly slipping off the couch, but flipping back onto his back at the last moment.

The doorbell rang and Matt froze. Who could it be right now? His mind wandered to any possible parcels he could have ordered. Oh right... That stuff he ordered for a friend. It was supposed to arrive the next day from what he could remember but it wasn't too unusual for it to be a bit early.

The semblance of a smile crossed his face-- as best as it could with his mouth stuffed full anyway. The delivery guy recognised him from all the things he'd ordered when he had first arrived here. He knew Matt lived alone.

If only Matt could reach the door before the man.

____

Daniel hummed to himself as he stepped out of the shower. The kid had a surprisingly decent house-- pretty new too by the looks of it. Didn't show signs of anyone else living there either. What a good catch. Pretty body pretty house.

Going through the closet attached to the master bedroom, he managed to find a red plaid shirt and a pair of black jeans that fit him decently. He'd have to get his stuff from the base pretty soon though, if he really decided to make this one permanent.

As he checked himself out in the mirror, he drummed his fingers on the wooden dresser. The whole house had a woody theme, not dark enough to match his personal preferences... but he still liked it.

His eyes fell to the canopy bed, snow-white bedsheets spread out on it... how would his little rabbit look all spread out on it for him, crimson dripping down-

The enthusiastic call of the doorbell dragged him back to his surroundings. Maybe his rabbit didn't live alone after all. Oh well. More toys to play with.

His gun tucked safely behind his shirt, he calmly walked down to the front door. The doorbell rang once more and his hand involuntarily went to the gun. "Protect me, Maria." He muttered under his breath.

Then, with a deep breath, he opened the door. An instant later, they were both pointing guns at each other's heads.

____

Matt watched wide-eyed from behind the stairs, lucky to have rolled his barely functioning body in there just in time to escape the man's notice.

"Ralph, what the fuck?" The man-- in his fucking clothes now-- complained, a strange friendliness behind his tone.

The olive skinned man-- Ralph-- shrugged, beaming. "Finally found you now, huh Danny? You really thought you could stay hidden from me? Me, of all people?"

Matt's brain struggled to jog up with the new information. The two were what... friends? Fuck. He was soo fucked.

The two laughed together casually, as if one of them hadn't nearly fucking raped someone a while ago. Matt doubted the other guy was even half as decent as-- who, Danny? Daniel? Did it fucking matter?

"Come on in now, Ralph." In a flash, both guns were back in their places. "Welcome to my new base."

The man-- Ralph? Did he have a full name-- whistled as he entered, closing the door behind himself. "Not bad. Definitely better than the last one. Who are you sharing it with this time around?"

What did he mean this time around? Had the bastard done it before too? How many times?

"A dark-haired one this time around. Still light-eyed though-- I haven't lost my taste for that just yet." The two began walking to the living room, towards him. "It was his wide terrified eyes that drew me in in the first place. Ah! I'm sure you'll find him pretty too."

"Oh yeah? Fucked him yet?"

Matt shuddered.

"Mhm, not really. I'm planning to experiment a bit with this one. If I had to guess, I doubt my rabbit has ever been with anyone. Should make it more fun, huh?"

Was that an insult? But Matt didn't have time to care. As the pair drew nearer and nearer, he pressed himself to the wall, silently begging the shadows to swallow him up. At the last moment, he squeezed his eyes shut, not willing to even gauge his situation.

"Oh hey! Here he is, huh." Ralph's animated voice reached his ears.

Matt whimpered as a rough hand grabbed his chin, tilting his head up. "Open your eyes, boy." Danny- Daniel's gravelly voice sent shivers down his spine.

Reluctantly, Matthew obliged. His gaze fell on Daniel's-- surprisingly soft-- gray eyes. "See, isn't he so pretty?" A smile danced on the edge of his lips.

Matthew sucked in a shaky breath as the fingers loosened to caress his cheek.

Ralph bent down, hands on his knees and a tilted head, to give his judgement. "Hmm... yeah... I think I like this one more than the last. Definitely more my type." He finished off with a grin, grabbing his hair to steal him away.

"He's still mine, you know." Daniel grumbled.

"Mhm." Abruptly, he let go. Matt winced as he fell flat to the floor, unable to support himself with his compromised limbs. "So, what do you plan on doing first? Fuck him in the bed or--"

"Nonono." Daniel voiced Matt's thoughts, albeit much more playfully. "I told you, I plan on experimenting on him. So let's start with something less sexual."

"Would he still be naked?"

"Well, wouldn't it be a waste of such a pretty body otherwise."

Matt shifted closer to the wall, chest heaving with violent inhales. How the fuck could they just talk about him like he was not even listening.... like he was-- what? A doll?? Tears welled up in his eyes as the two men turned to him, desire so plainly written across their faces. He shook his head as Daniel's hand hovered above him, desperately trying to plead with his eyes.

"Oof! Just look at those eyes." Ralph exhaled. "You might just get me addicted to light eyed boys too."

Daniel chuckled. "I know I know. The tears just look better in them."

"You should leash him, you know. Bet he'd look cute being dragged across the floor like this. It's about time you take his clothes off too. You're spoiling him way too much."

Retracting his hand, Daniel sighed. "Mm yea. Good point. I would have gone easy on him since it's his first day and all but... I don't wanna instill any bad habits either." Standing back up, Daniel ran a hand through his hair. "I'll get some stuff from the garage. Look after him, yeah?"

"Mhm. Don't worry about it."

Matthew watched wide-eyed as Daniel disappeared through the door, almost wishing for him to turn back. The other man seemed like an even crueler bastard.

"So..." Ralph crouched down. "What do you say we get you ready for him, hm?"

Matthew whimpered, shaking his head once more.

"So adorable." The man smiled, leaning forward to tap his nose. "You're right. I'm sure he'd like to watch."

A few minutes passed before Daniel returned, carrying a black duffel bag-- his black duffel bag. His expressions looked more focused now and Matthew feared the worst. Had he changed his mind and was planning to rape him after all? Ditch whatever he called his experiment? Oh fuck no.

"I'm surprised you didn't fuck him yet." Daniel handed Ralph the bag, before taking out a coil of rope from his pocket. Matt squeezed his eyes shut again.

"Alright, don't shy away now, my little rabbit." Daniel's voice came closer.

Matthew swallowed as he felt the rope being wound around his neck, the rough fibers tickling his soft skin. As Daniel worked on the knot, Matthew suppressed his tears. Suddenly, the pressure tightened, nearly choking him as his head was lifted above the ground. Eyes flying open instinctively, he saw Daniel tugging up the rope, a smirk on his face.

"Didn't I tell you not to shy away just now?" Daniel watched as Matt struggled to balance his weight on his knees. "Keep. Your. Fucking. Eyes. Open. Hm?"

Matt narrowed his eyes, giving him his nastiest glare. This fucking--

Daniel's smirk grew. "Let's see how much of that glare is left by the time we're done with you, yeah?"

[innytoes]

Leverage Redemption 2.06

-aka The Daddy Issues Job.

-Sophie no, you can’t axe the gloat. The gloat is the best part. It’s in the Leverage International handbook! The hackers have a ‘best gloat selfie’ competition going. Drones are involved!

-Breanna is the best little sister in the world I love her so much.

-I do love the implication there is no other reason for Eliot to ever go to the state of Oklahoma.

-Breanna: He has a father? 100% Hardison at one point told Nana’s kids that Eliot was a super solider grown in a vat.

-Eliot: I’m a loooone wolf Parker: okay buddy Breanna: surejan dot gif

-HOLY PLOT TWIST BATMAN. (Also dancing from fandom: Eliot and Jake separated at birth twins y/y.)

-They’re all trying to be there for Eliot my heart.

-Love Eliot’s dad walking in to his house being taken over. They did it to Nate, they’ll do it to any vaguely dad-shaped person.

-Okay I get speeding off dramatically but Harry was still inside and the front door wasn’t locked???? I am??? No??? (Also I am very mad their sham house has a place for a dog yet no dog.)

-PLAID SHIRTS RUN IN THE FAMILY.

-So do cheesy one-liners.

-Breanna is like: Okay now I have a Nana and a grandpa.

-FINISH telling him about the robot bodies. Just... Eliot sitting on the couch grumbling while Parker tells his dad stuff and every time he tries to cut her off his dad is like: no I want to hear this.

-Just me making high-pitched noises at the end there

[fangirlandtheories]

3 6 8 9 16 22

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

I'll be honest, I don't involve myself in the drama of the fandom so if it's a take I wouldn't agree with, odds are that I didn't see it as I don't actively seek out things that don't interest me. I will say this, and I'll say it carefully: If you want to look at Billy as a tragic character because of his traumatic life, that's fine, but that doesn't excuse everything he did. He's an inherently complex character and it's possible to hate that someone is racist and also hate that that person was abused. I don't know if that really answered the question or not, but it's a take of my own.

6. which ship fans are the most annoying?

Honestly all of us 😂 We all annoy each other for different reasons. I will say that nothing has made me more angry than the Steve/Eddie vs the Chrissy/ Eddie thing. It's not even how the fans of either interact with each other, it's the fact that Joseph and Grace have been dragged into it. They're actors playing a role and shouldn't have to play mediators for fans. They definitely shouldn't receive hate or backlash either.

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

Specific to Steddie shippers: That Eddie is perfect or Steve is perfect. They're both loveable doofuses that absolutely don't know conflict resolution. It's definitely not all pet names and snuggles but massive arguments and silent treatments.

9. worst part of canon

God I could go on for so long that you would almost believe that I don't like the show.

I think ultimately it's that up until this season there hasn't really felt like high stakes or consequences. Steve and Robin were tortured and left with just bruises and a shock blanket. The injuries the characters have sustained would leave someone sidetracked and bedbound in the real world but they constantly shake it off. It's like the only consequences occur when necessary to the plot. Steve gets bitten by bats and strangled twice: Let's tie a shirt around his waist and have him get dizzy once. Eddie gets bitten by bats: Kill him for sad value.

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

Mike

No haha... Unless...

I'm really not into Kas!Eddie or vampire Eddie. I'm all for bringing him back and if that's the way that the Duffers want to do it: Great! It's a sound theory and it makes sense to the plot, it's just not something I am really into when I'm reading things like fanfiction.

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

Here's a plot twist: I'm not going to talk about Steve or Eddie for this one.

Here's a comprehensive list of little things that I love that don't get enough conversation:

1. Ted Wheeler's little comments

2. Murray Mother Fucking Bauman

3. Joyce's (Winona's) eyebrows

4. The dedication to the fact that it's 10 pm and none of the parents know where their children are and don't ask

5. Erica and Dustin's friendship/ the passing of the DnD torch onto the next gen

6. The inclusion of Holly

7. Steve's plaid walls and car picture

8. Nancy "New Hair Every Season" Wheeler

9. Eddie having pretzels and weed in his lunch box

10. The sibling dynamics

11. Steve's butt in those jeans

12. Dustin's quirky style never changing and his mother who loves him so dearly.

Quite literally I could go all day but this would be the longest post.

[sgsminabags]

the past few years an exciting Loewe Handbags Outlet crop of L.A

Attendance at and outside the fall shows suggests that fashion is back big time. In this apparent return to normalcy, street style offers a bit of a plot twist. What do their observations mean for street style in 2022. There, his sporty offstage looks featured oversized leather and denim. And rapper Nicki Minaj donned some seriously major ones for a Heaven by Marc Jacobs ad campaign. "Now in New York, I feel I can wear whatever, without thinking if it is too much, too weird, too anything.

According to the students of Euphoria High School, 2022 is still all about the minibag. No matter that pint sized bags may not fit pencils, slide rules, or cell phones, they add just the right element of playfulness to your 'fits. And over the past few years an exciting Loewe Handbags Outlet crop of L.A.

I always took naps, because your day is so full. And I would definitely prioritize naps, because if I didn't get sleep, my mind was just not there, and you have to be mentally there in the starting gate before you're essentially risking your life on the mountain. I always tried to get 10 hours.

From plaid jackets who could forget Kate Moss's plaid Bottega Veneta shacket and baggy jeans combination at the brand's SS23 runway show. The heatwave spreading across the globe is wreaking havoc. let's just say that I have a certain skill set. Without fanfare, the show music started playing and guests looked around quizzically Was the audience the show. At any moment, it seemed, someone might pop up from the front row and bolt onto the runway in new old, upcycled kitschy clothing. Crochet has been having a moment, showing up among the best dressed guests from L.A.

This marks a change in Carrie's beliefs. If you're a major Sex and the City fan, you'll recall Carrie's former indifference towards politics. let's just say that I have a certain skill set. What can't be ignored, however, is her roster of fabulous fall boots that she effortlessly seems to pair with each and every look she steps out in. With crisp weather on the horizon, pair Other Stories's black high waist leather pencil with a chunky cardigan or Max Mara's chocolate brown Corsica skirt with a suede knee high boot. Emily Ratajkowski has been switching things up.

To go alongside your newly purchased Western shirting, find the denim midiskirt for Loewe Handbags the perfect pairing. If last season was all about the miniskirt, then this season is all about the more mature midi. Hitting just above the knee, denim midiskirts are figure flattering.

Ease any upcoming winter blues with Loewe Bags the help of a colorful pink suit a la Elaine Welteroth. From Alexander McQueen, this neon pink double breasted blazer paired with matching suit pants is statement making in and of itself. Who was a part of the show and who wasn't.

[yespolkadotkitty]

May I please ask for a Rhett Abbott imagine?

Of course!

Plot Twist

Words: 1100 ~ Pairing: Rhett Abbott x female bookstore owner reader ~ Content: fluff, non explicit sex, tooth rotting sweetness

You hear a soft rap on the glass, and when you look up, Rhett Abbott is there, slight smile on his face, hat in place, hair curling under it at the nape of his neck.

You can’t help but grin. 

If you’re working at the store, he comes to see you every day, without fail. Sometimes you’ll have lunch together, sometimes you don’t. Rhett might be busy collecting feed for the steer or mending fences; you might have a local author signing over the lunch hour. But you made time for each other as often as you could.

You wave and he waves back, the hint of a blush creeping up his neck.

You’d never known that Rhett Abbott could blush. Who’d have guessed?

A customer comes in, making the little bell on the shop door ring cheerily, and when you look back to the window, Rhett’s gone. It doesn’t matter; you know you’re seeing him tonight.

He’s a cowboy straight out of romance novels by the likes of Lorelei James, Linda Howard, and Sable Hunter, and you can’t get enough of his long legs in worn blue jeans, or the way he leaves the top few buttons of his plaid shirt left undone.

You’d never have imagined being with Rhett like this. It’s an unexpected plot twist.

In high school, he was often running wild with the rowdier kids. He’d started rodeo years ago, and you’d watch him on the bucking steer, wondering what it was like to command that much power, even for less than ten seconds.

It wasn’t until some years later, when his niece Amy broke her leg and had to stay in bed, that you got to know each other.

He’d come in to buy her some books to entertain her as she recovered. You were only too happy to recommend books for her age group. She loved them, and Rhett started to make a regular appearance, one day asking you out for coffee.

It went from there.

And when he slow danced with you on Valentine’s at the Handsome Gambler, you knew you were a goner.

Rhett sometimes brings you wildflowers, apologising that he can’t afford a fancy bouquet from the store. You don’t care. You prefer the ones he handpicks from the wild areas around the ranch pastures. They always smel so sweet.

The day at the bookstore passes quickly. You helped a regular, old Mrs Taylor, with collecting her new sci fi novel - her house was decorated like a spaceship, she was one of your all time favourite customers - and you priced up new releases by Jodi Taylor, Lee Child and Becky Chambers.

Five o’clock rolled around. When you locked up, Rhett was leaning against the lamppost opposite the door, hands in his pockets. He straightened up when you appeared.

“Afternoon, darlin’.”

“Afternoon yourself.” You lift your face for his kiss and he obliges, settling his hands on your hips. You sigh into his mouth, feel his lips curve against yours.

“Love gettin’ sugar from you,” he says softly. “How was your day?”

“Good. You?”

He tucks a curl of your hair behind your ear. “Sweaty. Dad needed help roundin’ up a steer that split from the herd. Had time to grab a shower before I came here, though.”

“Shame. I like you dirty.”

He groans. “Can’t talk like that in public, girl.”

“Maybe I better wait until we’re in your truck.”

He shakes his head, drawing his lower lip between his teeth. “I done lucked out with you, you know that? You’ve got all the sweetness of a librarian with the filthy mind of someone who writes erotic fiction.”

“Well, you have my extensive reading to thank for that.”

He kisses the tip of your nose. “Remind me to write and thank your favourite authors.” He takes your hand and leads you to the truck. You drive out together to your favourite picnic spot, a field of wildflowers on the very edge of the Abbott property.

You share a picnic basket Rhett has prepped, with ham and slaw sandwiches, strawberries, petit fours and potato chips, and then you draw a book out of your bag.

“Bought something to read to you.”

His face lights up. “You did?”

“Of course. C’mere, cowboy.”

He stretches out and settles his head in your lap. His hat has long ago been discarded over by the picnic basket and you thread your fingers through his hair. It’s soft from his shower, smells of some botanical mix of herbs from his shampoo, cypress and something else, and you love it.

He sighs and his eyes drift closed as you begin to read Our Souls are Mirrors by Rupi Kaur.

You read and read until the sun begins to set, and when it does, Rhett undresses you slowly, one garment at a time, until you’re naked under the big Wyoming Sky, and then he takes his time exploring you with his hands and mouth, until you’re trembling with pleasure, unable to form any syllables but his name.

Only when you’re lax with bliss does he push into you, bracing his body above your own. You wrap your legs around his waist as he mutters praise into the curve where your neck and shoulder meet. How you’re his good girl, the only one for him. How you make him feel so good. You clench your fingers on his shoulders, buck up into him. It makes him wild, and you come together under the early evening starlight.

After, you curl into him. He drapes his shirt over you to keep you cosy.

“Better drive you back soon,” he says absently. “Or you could stay over. If you want.”

“I do want. It’s not like your parents’ll be surprised to see me in the morning.”

He huffs out a laugh. “My mom’ll want to talk your ear off about books, I hope you know that. And Amy’s started readin’ that Heartstopper series you got her into. It’s all she talks about.”

You smile against his chest, as his heart bears steadily under your ear. “Who knew, the Abbott family, secret bookworms.”

---

@lawfulgranola @sebsxphia @hederasgarden @a-reader-and-a-writer @lorecraft @nerdysuperchick @callsign-phoenix @tallrock35 @juniebugg @wildbornsiren @green-socks

[braunbakery]

loser (ii)

☞ zeke jaeger x fem reader [ chapter word count: 6.5k]

☞ sfw, alluding to non sfw if you squint, angst, modern au. not proofread (soz), u r eren’s friend and homies with the 104th, jumps from present to past

☞ cross-posted on ao3

☞ plot: ‘i’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me?’ zeke jaeger - former aspiring baseball star. you - formerly caught in the mix of loving him. together - meeting outside a bar a year and a half after your break up.

(now - dealing with the aftermath of going home with him.)

☞ loser [part i] [bonus chapter]

ii. end

NOW

you know what zeke is doing most of the time.

you’ve spent enough time with him and cried over him enough to know whatever he actually means when he says stuff and does stuff. and he knows that you know. you think he does that stuff because he knows that you know.

when he gave you his jacket, when he apologized (even if he meant it. you hope he meant it), when he smiled at you in that way and looked at you in that stupid way of his. and when he kissed you.

when he kissed you.

that’s why you like watching him sleep. there is no hidden meaning, no motive, no meaningful look meant to make you weak at your knees. there is just zeke, sprawled out next to you with a heavy hand over your waist and the other dangling over the mattress. the smell of mint and smoke.

that’s why when you open your eyes and find your nose nestled into the side of his chest, for a while you’re content to just watch his chest, covered in the fabric of a white cotton t-shirt, rise and fall with every breath he takes. and then he grunts in his sleep, sending you slightly jumping. until the realisation hits and you actually are practically jumping out of the bed, fumbling through covers and launching yourself to the other side of the room.

fuck. fuck. why are you here?

you’re twisting yourself around to the mirror you know is on the wardrobe door of zeke’s sleek white bedroom, finding yourself in the same dress as last night with much-too-big for you plaid pyjama pants on top.

you need to get out of here. you can’t even think. zeke’s presence always fills up the entire room, even if he’s asleep, and now you think it’s going to fill you up as well until you’re the same pliant girl from a year ago.

you carefully prowl down the stairs of zeke and eren’s home, every creak echoing off of the walls and making your situation all the more real. how is this real? how did you get to this? you can’t turn the corner to the open floor kitchen and living room quick enough and as soon as your feet meet the chilled floors, you’re bounding to the front door without even thinking about it.

and then you hear toast popping out of a toaster and you think you would rather be anywhere else and do anything else other than turn around right now, but you can’t pretend that you don’t know that eren is probably stood behind you, watching you contemplate whether or not you should ignore him. so, you turn around.

“hey,” he says first from the other side of the room, confusion permeating his sleep-ridden voice.

“hi,” you mumble, looking down at your feet.

“what are you…doing here?” eren asks, setting down his cup of coffee and abandoning his toast as he makes his way around the island to slowly approach you.

“i…” you start. but you never finish. what can you even say? eren, before anyone, warned you of zeke. and he had to deal with your reluctance to join everyone at his house after the breakup, had to deal with the awkward silence you let settle between the two of you for the first few weeks afterwards when you couldn’t look at him and not see zeke. and he knows. you know he knows because why else would you be here?

“you…” eren tries to coax you, and your disappointment in yourself only intensifies when you slowly watch the confused smile playing on his lips sink into a frown when he notices the plaid pyjama bottoms you’re wearing. you clearly remember zeke’s charming smile last night as he called the two of you a taxi, and your gratefulness at him letting you sleep at his, and you should’ve known that they would cost you this look eren gives you now.

you look up at him. he sighs.

“you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

your lips press into a thin line.

“i don’t…” you trail off again. eren runs his hand through his hair.

“you…” he tries to start but it seems like he’s just as lost for words as you are, “shit, didn’t he fuck with you enough?”

“you didn’t tell me he was coming.” the words seem pathetic coming out of your mouth and eren just inhales deeper.

“and that would have made all the difference, yeah?”

“i don’t know, okay? it just…would have been nice to know." you don’t want to argue with eren. you just want to leave.

“yeah…” it’s eren’s turn to stare down at his feet, “it’s not like we talk that much anymore.”

you hoped he wouldn’t have brought that up. and you feel bad, you do, but it was just so much easier to slowly distance yourself from eren when every time you looked at him you either saw zeke or you remembered your sinking heart when you got that text from him. and it’s not fair, it’s so obviously not fair on him, and it’s not like you don’t see him when you’re with everyone else. but being selfish has just been easier.

“listen just–” eren looks back up at you so quickly you almost jump, “just get out of here before he wakes up. and i’ll talk to you later.”

“before who wakes up?” a voice bellows. eren is visibly annoyed when footsteps start making their way past him and next to you.

and the worst part is that your heart soars when zeke wraps an arm around you. the worst part is that you start to forget you had even wanted to leave in the first place.

*~*

THEN

zeke | 23:47

Hey

Call me.

zeke | 00:03

I don’t know what the hell Eren said to you but call me.

zeke | 00:23

I know you’re seeing this baby. There’s been a shitty mix up.

Just call me okay?

you sleep in sasha’s bed that night. eren calls mikasa to come and get you, and you just go along with it. you just do what you’re told and float through packing your stuff and getting into mikasa’s car and settling into sasha’s bed without even changing. and when sasha notices that you’re gripping your phone in your hand, reading over every text from zeke intently when the screen lights up, she gets mikasa to carefully wrench the device away from your fingers and across the room.

“hey, it’s gonna be okay,” sasha says to you, sitting down in front of your lying form on her bed and placing a hand on your arm. mikasa watches from a bean bag on the other side of the room, alternating between looking over at you to furiously texting someone on her phone.

“i think…” you start to get up and sasha watches you with wide eyes, “i think i should text back.”

“no,” mikasa immediately calls out from her seat, “go to sleep.” she spares a glance at sasha.

something you love about zeke (something you think you still might) is the way that he makes you feel. it’s always so much in so little time. your heart is constantly pounding around him, your chest is constantly soaring and you’re always stuck between running from him or to him. either way, you’re always stuck in him.

maybe that’s why as you lie here, being doted on by your friends and thinking of how zeke is at his place probably thinking of you (it’s so fucked up. he was just with somebody else, so why is this all you can think about?), you feel like you just might burst if you don’t see him. it feels pathetic. but it feels like the norm.

you wish that you’d never met him. and you wish that he’d storm up to sasha’s dorm and demand to see you.

three knocks on the door.

your throat feels like its caving in on itself.

you breathe again when it’s eren that walks in, brows furrowed and awkwardly sparing you a glance.

“eren,” mikasa speaks from across the room, setting her phone down and watching him drape his jacket on the back of sasha’s door.

“hey,” you sit up again, swinging your legs off of the mattress and planting your feet on the floor.

“listen, i’m so sorry you had to find out fr–”

“it’s fine, eren. it’s not your problem.”

eren offers you a solemn smile and sits down next to you on the bed. sasha walks over across the room to mikasa. you can’t stop thinking about zeke. not even in a ‘i fucking hate him, i can’t believe him’ kind of way. because yeah…you think you might hate him, but you can believe him and that just makes you feel dumber. the fact you’re sitting here wishing he would walk through the door next makes you feel dumber.

“um…” you awkwardly start, clasping your hands in your lap and trying to spit out the words in a way that isn’t going to taint everyone’s view of you, “did he…say anything?”

you feel eren freeze next to you, “hm?”

“like…about me?”

“jesus christ, when are you going to let him go?” eren snaps at you. you think it hurts more because he doesn’t even raise his voice or look at you.

“eren.” mikasa calls out from the other side of the room, offering him a pointed look.

“no,” he says, more to her than to you. he finally looks at you, “no, i told you about him. i basically told you this might–”

“are you saying it’s my fault my boyfriend fucked someone else?”

“no!” eren exclaims, voice steadily growing louder, “that’s not what i mean. but you need to fucking get over him.”

“eren, just calm down–” sasha tries to say from across the room, but you and eren are both speaking over her erratically.

you glare at eren. you don’t know if you’re more upset with him or with zeke or with yourself, “why are you being so mean?”

eren’s stare softens just for a moment. he speaks to you carefully, like he’s not even sure of the words escaping his lips himself, “i’m not…trying to be mean. i’m just tired of watching you chase after him like a lost puppy.”

like a lost puppy.

is that all you are when you’re with him? just a pet to pass the time?

eren starts to get up, reaching for his stuff from where he hung them at the back of sasha’s door and offering sasha and mikasa a parting nod. you hear the door creak open.

“listen,” eren softly calls out to you, still keeping the door ajar with his hand, “zeke is my brother. he’s always gonna be my brother. but even i can say that he doesn’t deserve you, even if he does love you.”

you smile at eren and watch him leave. the truth is, you don’t think you really care if zeke deserves you. you’re not even sure if you really know what that means. you don’t want to be deserved. you just want him to take it back. even though you know it’s impossible, and you know there was another girl in his bed just a few hours ago, and you know that a part of you isn’t even surprised, you just want him to take it back somehow.

even if he has to bend the fucking world to do it.

*~*

NOW

when zeke turns you around to face him, he gives you the same groggy smiles he used to all that time ago. the ones that make your legs weak and make you feel like you’re the only one he smiles at. so you stare at the floor as soon as you catch the corners of his mouth turning upwards.

“shy?” zeke teases, bringing a hand up to the side of your neck to try and coax you up to look at him. eventually you do, with a clenched jaw and fists at your sides. you can’t go back to how it was. he can’t make you. but it does seem like it would be so easy to pretend that nothing ever happened.

you swallow, “we were just tired, right? that’s why we’re back here?”

zeke releases a raspy laugh at your nervousness, “correct. no foul play here.”

“okay.”

the thing with zeke is that he’s rarely ever nervous or confused or awkward. and if he is, he always reels it back in before anyone else can see it. but, this time, you see it. because it seems like he’s realised you’re still not sure of what you’re doing with the way his hand is slowly dropping from your neck and he’s stepping back from you, pretending to scan over his kitchen.

the sense of triumph you feel is undoubtable. it makes you feel ill.

“you want tea? coffee?” zeke asks you, rounding the island.

“um…no, i think i’m fine.”

he stares at the marble-topped counter.

“listen…” he trails off, and it’d be amusing if watching him be at a loss for words didn’t make you just as nervous. you were so used to him being firm and certain that now…now you’re afraid whatever he’s about to spew out is just going to tug you back to him, “we didn’t like…this isn’t like a booty call or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“…right.”

“like, we didn’t do anything.”

“i know.” (there was just something about suddenly waking up in his bed that had your mind on edge, that had brought you back to things too familiar too quickly.)

zeke starts to walk back around the kitchen island, back to you, slowly, and you watch him like he’s prey about to pounce on you and you have to time your escape perfectly. you gulp when he doesn’t stop when he’s in front of you again, or when he doesn’t stop when the space between you is starting to diminish bit by bit, or when you can feel a hand carefully wrap around you and rest against the small of your back.

and zeke is watching you through blonde lashes, peering down at you like he’s just waiting for you to lurch out of his grasp again. you wonder if what he likes is the chase, the part where he has to continuously break you down until you let yourself live through whatever it is you still feel for him.

and then he’s leaning down, and you can feel his breath on your face, and he’s still watching you. still waiting for whatever move you’re going to make. all you can do is stare back up at him, through his glasses and his still-sleepy daze.

until you feel his beard slightly graze against you and you’re jumping away like you’ve stepped in fire. zeke’s hand is suspended in mid-air from where he was holding you, and it takes him a minute to realise that you’ve lurched backwards so far. you have to fill the silence before he says something. before he makes you regret it. before he does something stupid and charming that’s going to make you want him back again.

you open your mouth and try to will something out of yourself, “actually…i think i’ll have tea.”

zeke stares at you. then he smiles (you can’t read through it. what does it mean?), turns around and puts on the kettle.

you think you can hear him laugh to himself.

*~*

THEN

you’ve known that you were going to see zeke again at some point.

it’s like a storm that you’ve been watching approach for the two weeks, waiting for its arrival so you can just get it over with. there’s no way zeke would give up just like that…right? he’s stubborn and arrogant and uses pretty words and a big smile to get what he wants. it used to be endearing. (fuck, it still kind of is.)

but you just didn’t think it would be at your dorm. you thought he’d gotten the message that he wasn’t supposed to come by to your place from the countless arguments he’s had with eren since. so when you open the front door of your dorm building and are met with zeke, standing in the rain in a long brown coat and damp hair, it takes you an embarrassing amount of time to realise that it’s really him.

you’re out of milk. you’re just trying to go down to the shop. why does this have to happen now?

“hey,” zeke says, smiling at you when your eyes finally refocus on his face. he doesn’t make any move to come in and you’re grateful because you don’t know if you would have stopped him.

“what are you doing here?” you blurt out. a part of you had thought he’d given up for now, that he’d wait a while and enjoy his new fresh single life without you. with pieck and whoever else he wants to play around with and oh god you’re bitter. you don’t want to be bitter but you are. being stuck convincing yourself that he doesn’t care about you and isn’t going to see you while also hoping that he does and he will has just made you like that.

“i was hoping you’d see me now,” he says, and his smile finally starts to slowly drop away from his face, “was hoping your bodyguards wouldn’t be on the lookout.”

you laugh. and then stop when you realise he’s watching you, “does eren know you’re here?”

“does it matter?” he shoots back almost immediately. you glance away from him. you wonder if he can even really hear you over the cars roaring past and the rain splattering onto the concrete pavement.

“i don’t know.”

“i miss you,” zeke says, and you think you can just about make out his feet about to move, about to step into the building, but he seems to know better because he’s quickly retracting back to his spot.

“yeah,” you breathe out, “i miss you too.”

“so will you listen to me?” zeke looks at you expectantly, like it’d make him the happiest in the world if you just endured his excuses and his confessions and his declarations of whatever love he has for you.

his lost puppy.

you still don’t know if you care about whether or not he deserves you.

“okay,” you practically whisper, and zeke’s tense shoulders drop.

“i’m sorry–” but you’re seeing red the moment he starts talking.

“are you gonna say it’s a mix up now as well?” you cut in before he even has the chance to start, and zeke seems so surprised that you’re echoing back his texts, that you’re not patiently waiting for the words you want to hear. the ‘i love you’, the ‘please forgive me.’ and you want to hear them, you do, but you’re so fucking mad. at him, at pieck (it wasn’t hard to figure out that it was her), at yourself.

at yourself.

“that was– i shouldn’t have said that,” zeke says, and you want to believe in the shame permeating his voice.

“so did you or did you not sleep with pieck?” even though you know the answer, a part of you still hopes he says no. that you can still hold onto a sliver of denial, of belief that he would never do this to you.

“not sleep– i– we didn’t really–” zeke interrupts his choppy statements and runs an exasperated hand through wet hair, “i fucked up, okay?”

“yeah.”

“i was just mad, and hurt, and i wanted someone to be with me–”

“and that person wasn’t me.”

“i wish it was. i really wish it was.”

you want to call him a liar.

“you could have texted me. i would’ve came back.”

“you had just stormed off,” zeke says, “you were mad. we were both mad.”

“you really hurt me, zeke.”

“i know, i’m sorry,” he’s practically babbling. and you don’t know how you’re suddenly standing so close until you glance back behind you and realise that you’ve stepped out of the doorway, that you’ve been inching towards him this entire time.

“did you plan it? did you call her over just to fuck her behind my back?” you know you’re being aggressive, and harsh and whatever else it is that you know zeke doesn’t like in girls (and maybe that’s exactly why you’re being like that. how the fuck else does he think you’ll act?) but you can’t look at him anymore without thinking about the fact that he just…betrayed you. zeke is immediately interjecting.

“no! no, we were just gonna hang out. i didn’t fu– no,” zeke spews out, and he’s suddenly reaching up to his glasses and pushing them up over his forehead and into his hair. before you know it, he has both hands planted on your shoulders and is peering at you like he’s begging. is he begging? do you want him to beg?

“i love you, okay?” zeke says. and you believe him. you want to believe him. you look up at him in silence. the weight of his hands on your shoulders make you feel like you’re going to melt, and you can make out a small trickle of water moving down his temple and to his jaw. pretty words from a pretty face.

“i love you too,” you whisper back, and zeke’s muscles untense. you didn’t think he’d hear you over the rain.

“can we try again? please?” he says, and he sounds apologetic. he sounds sincere. you want to say yes, you want to believe that he does love you and it was a mistake. maybe then your head will feel less heavy and your chest will finally let you breathe. maybe it wouldn’t be so bad – he’s practically pleading. he’s standing out here in the rain pleading, and the more you look at him the more you just want to launch yourselves into his arms and bury this deep within you.

“i…” you start. zeke’s eyes are blue and hopeful. you had missed when he looked at you like that. maybe–

a car horn blares as it skids across the road behind zeke.

this time when you look at him, you see him and pieck at that restaurant from ages ago, laughing and smiling.

“i have to go.”

you retreat behind the door and shut it behind you after tearing yourself away from zeke’s grasp. he watches you with a clenched jaw.

you never end up getting the milk.

*~*

NOW

you nurse your cup of tea carefully on the couch next to zeke.

it’s getting harder and harder to pretend that you can’t tell he keeps glancing your way as you both aimlessly scroll through your phones. you have texts from sasha and mikasa practically berating you (and you know eren is a little snitch because they hadn’t even seen zeke last night and now you’re stuck avoiding their messages until you figure this whole thing out.)

and zeke…god, zeke.he still takes up an entire room even when he’s not trying to. every time he shifts in his seat, or clears his throat, or quietly laughs at something on his phone, you’re gripping your mug of tea for dear life like it’ll somehow keep you tethered. it’s so much effort that you wonder if you should have just let him kiss you before at the kitchen, if the way your heart beats when you let him have you is easier to deal with than how it beats when you’re trying to work around him.

you start typing out a text to sasha for a ride home – she’d probably be the less overwhelmingly disappointed of the two girls. and zeke seems to hear your typing because he’s suddenly leaning closer to you and peering over your phone. he used to do that a lot when you were together and for some reason you loved it. because there was nothing to hide and it made you feel like he was interested. you don’t know why you needed proof of his interest in you way after you had gotten together but that was just how it was.

but now, now you’re not together and you do have stuff to hide. like how you want him to disappear right now because you don’t want to deal with feeling like that about someone again.

“i can give you a ride home,” zeke says, leaning back away from you and training his gaze on you. when you lift your mug again you realise it’s empty and suddenly it feels like there’s nothing left to do but look back at him as well.

“privacy, zeke,” you say.

“i was curious.”

“okay, then,” you conclude and lean closer to him to peer at his phone in his hands, mimicking his movements earlier, “carry on then.”

“hey,”zeke laughs, trying to pull his phone away from your line of vision, “back off.”

“what? i’m curious,” you retort, and the way zeke is smiling widely back at you as you settle your weight onto him to stop him from moving his phone makes you think maybe you don’t have to move so soon. zeke wraps an arm around your back as you continue to lean over his lap, now sidled up right next to him, and watch him scroll through instagram.

“gross,” zeke says suddenly.

“what?”

“you still smell like last night,” zeke teases, chuckling when it takes you a few seconds to realise what he’s said. and you’re immediately reaching an arm behind you to grab at one of the cushions on the couch but when you try to lean away to reach it, zeke’s grip on you tightens and he brings you back towards him.

“thought you said you were curious,” he comments when you look up at him.

you freeze in his grasp. you know you shouldn’t stay; you knowthis. but you just can’t bring yourself to get up and say goodbye and thank zeke for the bed and just leaving. what is it going to take? his arm around you right now certainly isn’t making things any better.

it’s just making you want to stay with him more.

and you haven’t felt like that in more than a year, so you’re slowly inching away from him again and out of his grasp. zeke looks at you in confusion, waiting for you to say something. you don’t know what there is to say.

“i think i should go now,” you carefully drawl out.

“you don’t have to,” zeke says simply.

“i think i should,” you repeat, and it takes almost every ounce of you to start to get up from the couch, to try to not look back at zeke when you can practically feel his eyes boring through you. and just as you’re about to finally start walking back up to his room to get the rest of your stuff, just as you’re about to finally escape his reaches (that would be so much easier to just stay in) his hand is wrapping around your wrist.

he's not pulling you back or anything, he’s just…holding your wrist. but it’s enough to make you freeze and look back at him despite your better judgement. zeke takes a deep breath.

“i’ve been trying to tell you this since last night,” he starts, and you can feel your head start spinning because what the fuck is he talking about and why does he decide to do this when you’re finally so close to regaining some self-respect?

you swallow, “tell me what?”

“sit down?” he asks. (usually, he just tells you to. you don’t know why you’re noticing that now.) when you don’t sit, he sighs, “i’m…”

“you’re…”

“i’m moving back.”

“huh?”

“…i’m moving back here.”

“…right.”

fuck.

*~*

THEN

when eren, sasha and mikasa find out that zeke had gone to see you, they’re livid. and you know they just had your best interest at heart, but did they really expect zeke of all people to just leave everything alone? did they really believe it when eren said that you were just his lost puppy…that maybe zeke didn’t love you at all?

this is what you think for a while after your encounter with zeke, which is your final proper conversation with him for a while.

“you good?” jean speaks into your ear, cutting you out of your thoughts and bringing you back to the flashing lights of the club you’re all currently at for the night.

“yeah, i’m fine,” you say, pretending that you haven’t just caught yourself searching for a scruffy blond head among the crowd on the dance floor. you look across the tall bar table and find eren staring at you and you find yourself immediately looking back at jean without even really meaning to. you don’t know what’s gotten into you the past few days, but every time you try to speak to eren or he tries to speak to you, you just feel your heart dropping again.

“hey!” sasha exclaims as she rounds the bar table and moves over to you, her arm looped enthusiastically around mikasa’s who offers you a small smile, “we’re gonna head to the bathroom. coming?”

you nod, propping yourself up from leaning on the bar table and lacing your arm around sasha’s, letting her lead you and mikasa to the toilets. it’s just flashing lights and music and silhouettes frantically jumping around as sasha decides to take a shortcut through the crowd and tightens her grip around you and mikasa.

there’re so many people here. the chances you bump into zeke are low. but you hate that you know that he’s in town and you hate how aware you are that it’s a friday night and this seems like just the place zeke would be (spread out over whatever seat he can find, acting nonchalant and cool and not particularly interested in the chaos around him. and probably with pieck.)

you shake your head, it’s been weeks. a month or two, even, since you’ve last seen him. and you want to believe that it’s gotten easier and things are okay now. that the times you have to catch sight of him shopping, or leaving the house when you’re all cooped up at eren’s, are times that have passed and times that you can deal with. you’ll make yourself believe them.

eventually you, mikasa and sasha have made it halfway across the dancefloor to get to the bathrooms, brushing shoulders with practically everyone in the crowd and you’re suddenly bumping straight into someone’s chest, hearing a yelp from both you and this stranger.

“shit, i’m so sorry,” you sputter, trying to regain your balance and realising that cold liquid is now slowly seeping into your dress. for god’s sake, they were carrying a drink this deep into the crowd? it’s fine, it doesn’t matter, it’s just a drink. it’s just a drink and a stain you can wash off in the toilets until you’re looking up and even in the dark you can make out blue eyes staring back at you. you can make out blond hair through the flickering lights.

“hey, you,” zeke speaks before you say anything. sasha seems to only have realised that you and mikasa aren’t with her anymore because you can make out her slowly returning figure in the corner of your eyes.

“hi,” you say as steadily as you can muster. “zeke.”

mikasa’s now the one looping an arm through yours as she waits for sasha to make her way back to the pair of you and slightly tugs you towards her.

your eyes flicker down to the person hanging off of zeke’s arm. a girl. she’s pretty. you don’t want your heart to race but it does. now you think you’re just trying to look anywhere that isn’t him to regain some sort of composure at this run-in that isn’t just accidentally catching sight of him in the street because now he’s talking to you. you scan the set of couches far behind him and the rest of the crowd, find pieck sitting off in the far distance, chatting away to porco and–

“hi,” zeke cuts into your attempt at distracting yourself from the fact that he’s standing in front of you. he looks at you like he’s forgotten he’s already said hello, “it’s been a while.”

“yeah,” you croak out. the girl beside him looks up at him expectantly and you can feel yourself slightly recoiling.

“we gotta go,” mikasa monotonously says, not even sparing zeke a glance. or a chance to say anything more.

“right, uh…”

“it’s fine,” zeke says, smiling at you like he did when he had first met you. “i’ll see you around?”

“yeah.”

you both know you’re lying.

when you finally reach the bathroom, you stare at yourself in the mirror waiting for mikasa and sasha to finish up. and you think that…that really sucked. it sucked seeing him here, seeing him with someone else – just seeing him. and there was a part of you that wanted him to shamelessly flirt with you like he always used to or grab your hand and tell you he missed you.

but you think that this time was better than the last time you saw him and the time before that and the time before that…and maybe getting over him won’t be so hard.

maybe moving on from him won’t be so bad.

*~*

NOW

“i miss you,” zeke says, and it’s echoing in your head like a distant memory has somehow manifested its way into your present. his hand is still wrapped around your wrist but this time he’s stood up from the couch and has your hand raised up towards him.

“why are you telling me this?” you ask quietly. he’s moving back. you got over him…you were gettingover him, and now he’s back. now you have to feel his presence. now you’re going to just…you’re going to love him again. right?

“because it’s the truth,” zeke confesses. and you know that it is, that he’s telling the truth – but it still feels like a lie. everything he says always feels like a lie, like it’s meant to keep you on your toes. meant to keep you guessing, “because i know you miss me too.”

“zeke…” you don’t even know what to say to him. you used to live for this, you thought you still did, and there’s a part of you still being pulled towards him and wanting to tell him that’s he’s right. he’s completely right.

“what happened back then – all the shit that happened back then – it was fucked up,” zeke clasps your hand in both of his and you can feel his breath on your skin.

“i…”

“but, i’m sorry. and i’m different,” zeke continues, thumb softly brushing over the back of your palm.

“really?” you can’t help but ask.

“really. and i’m here to stay.”

it feels like your jaw is clamped shut. like all the things you’ve wanted to say to him for the past year and a half have just fizzled out of your mind.

“i’m different too…” you try to start, but the words keep escaping you before you even have a chance to grab at them. zeke gazes down at you and nods, trying to urge you to go on.

“i know,” zeke says, “i know. so can we…start over?”

“start over?”

“yeah.”

like it never happened? like all this time you’ve spent trying to build yourself into someone that didn’t need zeke’s pretty words or rushed affections was for nothing? like what a part of you has been secretly hoping for since he moved away?

“zeke…you cheatedon me.”

“i know–”

“you fucked with me. like all the time.”

“i know–”

“you knew how i felt about you and you still did it.”

“i know. and i wish i never did. i fucked up. i am fucked up. but i still love you.”

you carefully pull your hand away from his grasp. what the hell do you say to that? what the hell do you do with that? how are you supposed to deal with him being around again all the time? how are you supposed to deal with him probably prancing in and out of your life again all the time? how are you supposed to deal with him, knowing that this sickening magnetic pull won’t get any weaker unless you spend all your time pulling yourself back until your muscles ache?

zeke watches you carefully.

“i don’t know what to say,” you quietly mutter, gaze trained on your feet.

“say you love me as well,” zeke softly responds, snaking a hand up to your chin and tilting it back up to him. it makes you sick that you’re still melting into his touch. and when you realise he’s about to sneak a kiss onto your lips, you let him. you’ll let him just this once, you promise yourself.

you let your eyes flutter closed and let him cup your face tenderly and let him slowly pull you closer to him until he decides to pull away. until you open your eyes again and look up at him, and it hurts watching him smile at you like you’re the sun when you realise that all you can do is leave him here and walk out of the door.

“i’m sorry, zeke,” you say, and his hand instantly drops from your face.

“what?” he asks, starting to back away from you.

“i can’t do this anymore.”

“what– what do you mean?” zeke sputters. you’re grinding your teeth against each other whenever you have the chance. zeke is staring at you like you’re ripping something away from you.

“i…i’m gonna go home.”

“are you serious?” zeke inquires as you start to turn around. and it doesn’t even sound accusatory, or angry because zeke was never like that. it just sounds disappointed. it sounds like if he were saying that to the you from a year and a half ago, you’d be running back into his arms.

“yeah.”

“you still love me as well,” he calls out after you, “i know you do.”

when you turn back to face him fully, practically on the other side of the room now, you watch zeke’s adam’s apple bob as he swallows slowly, waiting for you to say something back. you think you’re always going to want to go back to him – at least a little bit. but now…now you won’t give yourself up for it.

“yeah, i do,” you say, making your way to the door. zeke slowly follows after you. eren will just drop whatever you left here to your place. there’s still the small fear that if zeke just does something, you’ll find yourself back to him in no time.

“so why won’t you stay?” zeke asks, but you’re already at the door, and you think at this point he knows you’re not going to come back inside with him.

“because…”

zeke looks at you like he’s losing you.

you take a breath.

“because i’ll get over it.”

taglist;

@saramelcky,@chawyn,@sashabrausbrainrot,@xadist, @dai-tsukki-desu, @papiibuprofen, @chiaradhea, @unicornlover25 @queen-flower @sofijaeger @esdexath @itskoushi @sweetd4isy @kakashihatakesbaby @okgaby7 @stxrrielle @6sakusa

reply to this post to be added to the taglist!

[spideyspeaches]

Spotlight ↬ t.h

A/N: This whore made me write this okay? shh you didn’t see me write this 🤡 Lord save me what have I written 😪😪💀

WC: 1.4k+ 

Warnings: smut. minors dni

Pairing: tom holland x photographer!reader (basically the plot lmao)

Masterlist || Taglist

“Is it just me, or are these pants super tight?” Tom grunted, pulling the tight dress pants in question to fit over his thighs. Wiggling his toes, he tried not to groan at the numbness in his limbs the uncomfortable pants brought, hoping the photoshoot wouldn’t take long.

He really wasn’t in the mood for a photoshoot this late at night, especially after a long day of continuous online press. The things he did for his fans. He just hoped that the new photographer wouldn’t be a rookie, he would feel terrible if he snapped at them for doing their job. Not that he would ever, his anger management was going well. 

“I don’t know man, ask your stylist.” One of the dressers said. Tom didn’t know what his name was, there were too many people to keep track of names. And then there was the makeup artist, who decided that he needed makeup that very moment, brushing his nose with powder with a fluffy brush. Trying hard not to rip his pants, he sneezed three times in succession. 

“Bless you.” The makeup lady chuckled, dusting more on his cheekbones before going to the rest of his face. Trying to deflect her, he moved around a little, earning a chuckle from the others. 

“I think I’m already pretty without makeup, thank you very much.” Tom joked, rolling his sore neck, curling his toes once again as they cracked satisfactorily, sighing in relief that the darn fitting was finally done. 

“You are pretty but the camera needs a little highlight to show your cheekbones off.” she retorted.

Scoffing, he looked around, eyes landing on the multiple flashlights in front of the green screen, and another person. Furrowing his brows, he shrugged, maybe that was the new photographer. 

“Who’s that woman?” He asked anyway, sneaking a glance at You. He could only see your back, but he could see your hair tied up in a bun, baggy olive pants and a plaid shirt loosely hanging off your waist. He felt jealous looking at your comfortable clothing, pushing down the feeling with a huff. You were a stranger, and he would be home soon anyway. 

“That’s the new photographer, she’s an intern but quite good at what she does. We saw her portfolio and immediately hired her.” 

“That’s great.” He muttered absentmindedly tracing his eyes over your form. He found himself unable to stop the blush creeping up his cheeks when you turned around, a smile on your lips when you saw him eyeing you. It wasn’t often that somebody caught his eye. 

“She’s off-limits.” The older woman muttered, smirking when he huffed. 

“It wasn’t like I was going to do anything.” he said defensively, yet unable to take his eyes off you.

“Of course you weren’t.”

No he wasn’t. At first he wasn’t, but his stupid tight fucking pants were making him uncomfortable, twisting the rings in his fingers to stop the anxiety blooming in his chest. His eyes followed you again as he sat at the ground, watching you as you adjust the settings of your camera. 

"Y/n, right?" Tom asked, as you nodded bashfully. 

“Ready?” You smiled. Giving you a thumbs up, he posed in multiple positions, his eyes following your hands as they held the lens of the camera. You tried not to pay much attention to the man in front of you.

You had come here strictly to click photographs, not hook up with a celebrity who was decidedly the most attractive person in this room. You felt your breath hitch as he spread his legs, casually sprawling his hands between his thighs, right on top of his crotch. The rings on his fingers and the highlights of his makeup visibly shone against the bright lights. Clearing your throat, you lowered the camera from your face. 

“Can you- can you turn a little bit? To your right?” You stuttered, indicating the new position, bunching up the hem of his grey dress pants as he shifted.

“This is better?” He asked, looking up with a smirk. He definitely knew what he was doing, and judging by his smug expression, which you decided to capture before it vanished, he knew how it was affecting you too. 

The overall shoot was exhausting, with the constant wardrobe change and time limit. But the entire time, you couldn't help but be intrigued by the British actor in front of you. 

His wardrobe definitely defined his muscles, the lights working wonders as they created shadows in just the right places. 

“Can I see the photos?” He asked, coming to stand behind you once the rest of the crew disappeared to pack everything up. Your breath hitched again, the closer he came, the faster your heart beat. 

“Th-they need to be edited.” You stuttered, switchin on your camera anyway. Without turning, you held the instrument in your hand, lifting your elbows as he came closer, his mouth nearly on your neck. You were both thankful for the empty dressing room. 

“I bet they look good, they came from a sweet thing like you.” He whispered, bringing his hands closer to your waist, teasing you as his fingers traced non existent circles on the small of your skin visible from the hitched t-shirt. The air around you grew thicker, it was getting harder to breath with every passing minute as he ran his cold fingers burning your skin, the cool of his rings a foreign touch.

You’ve had a one night stand or two before, but they were usually men from random dive bars. Not a celebrity, who had taken interest in you surprisingly fast. Your gut twisted at the thought of doing him, the heat of the spotlight suddenly burning your skin. Was this going to be a one night thing too? You didn’t know. You didn’t care. You weren’t going to admit it, but you were a fan of Tom Holland. You had seen his interviews of him for Cherry, but somehow, the Tom Holland standing behind you was a complete 360 of the Tom you saw in the interviews.

“They look good because they have you.” You said, squirming at the funny feeling of his lips on your neck, sucking on the nape. Fuck professionalism, no one was there to catch you, the lights of the studio having been switched off because of it nearing it’s closing time. You had a trailer of your own, but you were too lost in his lips to care.

Twisting around, you jumped up as he caught you with ease, crashing your lips with his with a hunger that surprised you, arms grasping his shoulders as you dug your nails into his clothed shoulder. 

Panting as you parted, you took off your clothes, the cold air hitting you as your body got used to the sudden temperature change. He watched in awe as they fell one by one, first your pants, then your shirt, leaving you in your sports bra and panties. His hard on was very visible from his pants, as he reached to unveil himself alongside you. 

“Don’t you think this is a little unprofessional? We literally just met.” You spoke, walking closer to him, holding his cheeks in your palm. Biting your lips, you ran your hands on his now bare chest, feeling the hard skin of his nipples, his defined pectorals. Yeah, you really didn’t give a fuck about professionalism, you were about to fuck Thomas fucking Holland, maybe teach him a lesson after he left you all hot and bothered during the photoshoot.

“It’s unprofessional only if you want it to be darling.” He groaned, pulling you closer to his, your chests smacking against each other as he grasped your head, kissing you, the pace increasing as he picked you up by your waist, slamming you against the door of the studio. 

You never knew a touch could mean so much, lost in your high of his lips against yours, his skin against yours feeling like fire and ice at the same time. 

“Say the magic word babygirl, and I’ll stop.” He said, grunting as you dug your fingers in his back, your head spinning at the euphoria his voice brought you. 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to say anything with your dick against me.” You said, stopping for a moment as he looked at you open mouthed. A moment passed and his laughter rang in the studio, your own mixed with his. 

This was gonna be the longest night of yours. 

A/N: SO THAT HAPPENED HAHA BYE IMMA GO INTO HIDING 

[tuanyiems]

Ice Choco

Yugyeom x Reader (f) fluff x smut words: 4k plot: you’re nervous about spending the holidays with his parents, but you should be more nervous about the boy who can’t seem to take his hands off of you, established relationship!au christmas!au warnings – fingering, teasing, slow sex, unprotected sex, creampie, this one’s extra fluffy I think, it’s Christmas after all :’) a/n – Christmas came early hehe enjoy! part of Le Chocolatier drabble series, which you can find the masterlist for in my blog. feel free to read this as a one-shot or part of the series, in any order you want <3

You smile fondly at the twinkling fir tree, golden lights and sparkling red bulbs drape over its forest green body. Chocolate squares wrapped in silver foil that you and Yugyeom had hand wrapped yourselves hang on red ribbons throughout the tree. You pluck one off and pop it into your mouth. The peppermint chocolate melts on your tongue, coating your mouth in sweetness.

When Yugyeom first invited you to join his family for the holidays, you were anxious. It hadn’t even been three months since you started dating. You wondered if you were moving too fast. Would his family judge you? Would Yugyeom realize how awkward of a person you were? Would you be left sad and alone on your favorite holiday?

It was only after plenty of reassurance from Yugyeom that you decided to just go for it. You liked Yugyeom, a lot, and despite the short time you’ve been dating, every day has been full of happiness. And if his family was anything like Yugyeom, you would probably like them too.

And that’s how you found yourself here, in the Kim’s living room on Christmas Eve. Unlike what you had imagined, his parents welcomed you with open arms. You learned exactly where Yugyeom got his warmth and kindness.

And as if this moment couldn’t be more picturesque, a full moon hung in the night sky like a shining ornament.

“Pretty,” Mrs. Kim interjected, stepping beside you.

“It is,” you smile, looking out the window.

“No, I was talking about you dear,” she grins, squeezing your arm.

“O-oh,” you stutter, feeling your cheeks heat.

Laughing, Mrs. Kim tilts her head back the same way Yugyeom laughs when he’s teasing you. “Aren’t you a cutie! Yugyeom did good finding you.”

“T-thanks,” you sputter, not sure what to do with yourself. You fix at the red plaid pajamas the Kim’s gifted you with this morning. “I’m glad you invited me…or, well, I don’t know if you invited me. I don’t know if you knew about me. Maybe Yugyeom just brought me without notice. Oh, I hope he didn’t-”

Giggling, Mrs. Kim pulls you into a side hug.

“Sorry,” you apologize, taking a deep breath. “What I mean is, you’ve been so nice. I’m happy to spend the holidays with you and your whole family. Really, thank you.”

“Not at all,” Mrs. Kim scrunches her nose, smiling. “It’s nice to have another woman in the house. Tomorrow, my daughter-in-law will be joining us too!”

“I can’t wait to meet her and your eldest son!” You agree, “I’ve heard so many great things from Yugyeom.”

She nods, giving your arm another squeeze. “Yeah, Yugyeom dotes on his brother so much. But until then, you can use Euigyeom’s old bedroom. I’ve prepared fresh sheets so you can get a good night’s sleep.”

“Fresh sheets won’t feel as cozy as my bedsheets though,” Yugyeom interrupts, coming up beside his mother.

Your eyes widen at his comment.

Mrs. Kim frowns, slapping Yugyeom on the arm. “No babies until you two get married!”

Yugyeom laughs at his mom and when he sees your mortified face, laughs even harder. You aren’t even sure which part of her sentence to be more flustered about—the fact that his mom just insinuated you two possibly having sex under her roof or that you’ve been dating for less than three months and she was already considering marriage! 

Your skin feels like hot lava and you wonder if you might even hive up from embarrassment. That would be a first.

“Oh, I think we broke her,” his mom chuckles.

“Honey,” Mr. Kim interrupts, resting his hands over Mrs. Kim’s shoulders. “Let’s head to bed and let the young one’s talk.”

He sends you a wink before ushering his wife into their bedroom. When you hear their door shut, you let out a sigh, shoulders slumping. Yugyeom chuckles softly beside you, patting you on the back.

“I told you, you had nothing to worry about,” he says. “My parents love you already. I think they love you more than they love me.”

“Impossible!” you scrunch your nose, but your lips curl up anyways. “This afternoon when I was helping your mom in the kitchen, she kept talking about all the awards you won in high school. Class president, co-president of the dance club, winner of the youth dance competition. How come you never talk about dance? What else are you hiding from me?”

Yugyeom’s eyes crinkle into half moon shapes. “I also won first prize in the science fair in primary school,” he grins, winking at you playfully. “Your man made a pretty mean volcano back in the day.”

“Oh wow, a volcano? That beats the boy I dated for his solar system model,” you joke.

He smirks, putting his arm around you, “Definitely an upgrade, babe.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll ask to see the baby photos,” you tease, leaning into his embrace as you poke his chest.

Yugyeom tilts his head cockily to the side. “Not to brag, but I was a pretty cute baby. Just a warning, but you might fall in love with me.”

You roll your eyes. A little too late for that, you think to yourself, but that is a confession for another day.

“We should probably clean up and head to bed soon,” you smile, pulling away.

“Don’t wanna see Santa?” he teases.

You chuckle, clearing the living room of the abandoned mugs and plates with the exception of one plate of chocolate chip cookies. “I think it’s cute that your mom still keeps out cookies.”

He smiles, helping you empty the dishes into the sink. “Back when we were kids, they’d wake up at midnight and eat the cookies too.”

Lips jutting out, you stare at Yugyeom with big doe eyes, completely endeared. He glances at you before chuckling and slipping on the bright pink dishwashing gloves.

“On the downside, I got bullied for being the only kid in the neighborhood who still believed in Santa,” he adds.

“Aww, poor baby,” you coo, brushing the stray hair out of his eyes. “Tell me their names, I’ll go beat them up for you.”

“Bambam,” he quips making you laugh.

“Sorry, Gyeom, you’re on your own.”

He chuckles. “S’alright, I had my mom fight that battle.”

You let out a deep breath, leaning your elbows on the center island of the kitchen and admire Yugyeom from behind. He’s only in a plain grey t-shirt and matching red plaid pajama pants, and yet, he still looks handsome. Your eyes travel across his broad back. There is the faint hint of his tattoo underneath the thin cotton material.

When you first saw Yugyeom’s back tattoo, you were surprised but also found it very fitting. Black ink bled wings across his shoulder blades. In a way, Yugyeom came into your life like an angel. Your guardian angel, he liked to joke, saving others from your clumsiness. 

You scoff at the memory, making Yugyeom turn to you with narrowed eyes.

“What are you snickering about back there?”

“Nothing!” you squeak, pursing your lips together like a child caught red handed. 

He looks at you for a moment longer before turning back to the dishes, smiling to himself. 

“I was just thinking,” you finally add after a pause. “I really enjoy the relationship you have with your parents.”

You watch his shoulders lift and you imagine he’s smiling. “Yeah, they’re my best friends,” he tells you over the sound of the running faucet.

“I’m jealous,” you confess softly. You assume he doesn’t hear you.

Unlike Yugyeom, you grew up in a strict household. The only memories you have of your biological father were all associated with fear and while you got along with your mother, you weren’t exactly close either. Of course, the two of you loved each other as most families did, but after experiencing a marriage of struggle, as soon as you were of legal age, your mom went off to chase her own freedom. Back in your late teens, this had put a strain in your relationship, but now that you are older, with your perspective matured, you grew to understand your mom and you’re glad that she’s found a happier life of her own.

Now, the two of you can talk openly about the ups and downs of adulthood and womanhood and everything in between.

But this was why you weren’t spending the holidays with your own family. The two of you had decided a few years back that New Year’s would be for family, Christmas is for love and adventure.

You watch as your love and adventure turns off the faucet and shakes the pink gloves off his arms. “Done!” he declares triumphantly, turning to you now.

“Looks like you’re going to make the nice list this year,” you compliment, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He grins down at you, “How about you sneak into my room and we can both make the naughty list.”

Your eyes widen, feeling your cheeks flush at the thought. Yugyeom laughs, throwing his head back.

“I’m just kidding, don’t have a heart attack!” 

Slapping his chest, you pout. “Let’s go to sleep. I’m going to need the energy to deal with you tomorrow.”

But when your head finally sinks into the fresh sheets Mrs. Kim had prepared for you, sleep never comes. After washing up and saying goodnight to Yugyeom, it was like all the exhaustion washed away too. You are wide awake when the clock hits midnight.

It’s probably because you’re in a new environment. It’s been a while since you last slept in a stranger’s bed. You haven’t even slept at Yugyeom’s place yet! You always go home before it gets too late, or it’s him staying at yours.

Anyways, the nerves of meeting Yugyeom’s family along with the new environment and the thrill of Christmas combined is probably what’s keeping you up.

Sitting up in bed, you decide to fix up a warm drink. That should calm you, right?

Slipping out of bed, you sneak out of your bedroom on tiptoes, twisting the doorknob so slowly one might think you’ve been frozen. One thing about the Kim’s house is how eerily quiet the whole place is. Unlike your apartment where everything seemed to buzz—the fridge, the walls, the ceiling, you name it—this house was cloaked in silence.

It feels like an eternity when you finally get the door open big enough to walk through. Looking both ways in the dark hallway, you make a turn and tiptoe your way into the kitchen. Once in the kitchen, you flick the island lights on, casting a dim spotlight at the center of the room. You squint, eyes adjusting to the lights before making your way towards the cabinets.

Helping Mrs. Kim with dinner this evening had paid off. You were already familiar with the kitchen setup.

Plucking a hot chocolate packet between two fingers, you swivel back to the island to boil the water. Pouring the brown powder into a mug, you let out a breath, waiting for the water to boil.

In the open window across from you, you are delighted to find a flurry of white illuminated by the dim light of a single lamppost. The snowflakes fall in fat clumps, as if in slow motion. The quiet realization that you will have a white Christmas after all, brings a soft smile to your lips.

“Hello, Santa,” a sudden voice breaks the silence, making you jump up in a silent shriek.

Standing in the shadows, at the doorway of the kitchen is a very amused Yugyeom, his hands clasped around his mouth to muffle his laughter.

“You scared me!” you whisper yell, one hand on your beating chest.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, not at all sorry, as he walks to your side behind the island. “What are you doing up anyways?”

“Making hot chocolate,” you explain, hands coming to fix at his bed head. “I couldn’t fall asleep. Want one?”

You’re already grabbing another packet from the cabinet before he can answer you.

“I can make you an ice choco,” you smile up at him, eyes forming crescents. They look shinier under the lights. He feels a flutter in his stomach.

Smiling quietly, Yugyeom nods. For a moment, the two of you stand in easy silence. Only the sound of the water boiler can be heard. Yugyeom’s eyes follow where yours are staring and his heart warms. You look so happy, it’s endearing. You must be the only person in this city who hasn’t been jaded from the snowstorms that hit every winter.

Coming from behind, Yugyeom wraps you in his arms, bending to rest his chin in the crook of your shoulder.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispers into your ear, gazing out at the falling snow.

“Merry Christmas,” you reply, turning, you hold his face in one palm and press a kiss to his cheek. He squeezes you tighter in his arms.

When the water boiler clicks off, water now hot and bubbling, you move to grab it but Yugyeom holds you tight, pulling you closer to his chest. You giggle softly, tilting your head at him curiously. He answers you with cold fingers sliding underneath your shirt. It sends you shivering all over.

“Yugyeom!” you squeak in surprise, making futile attempts to escape his grasp.

“I know something else we could do to get you sleepy,” he whispers, breath on the shell of your ear.

“Y-your parents are right down the hall!” you stutter, gulping back the whimper that threatens to escape your throat.

Yugyeom licks a stripe up the shell of your ear, “And sleeping.” You can feel his smirk against your ear.

“I-w-we can’t,” you whine, unconvincingly.

“But you want to,” he says matter-of-factly, hands sliding up your skin. You feel him inhale when his palms come around the supple flesh of your breasts. “No bra? You naughty girl.”

Your protests catch in your throat when he begins to knead at your breasts, rolling both nipples between his thumbs. You whimper, head falling back onto his shoulder at the sensation. His fingers brush against the sensitive buds gently, barely there. It makes your knees weak and your core throb with want.

Yugyeom presses himself into your back and you can feel him hard against you. “You don’t know how hard it was for me to control myself today. Do you know how many hard ons I had to hide from my parents?”

You break into a smile, grinding your ass harder into him. “Is that why you were hugging that throw pillow all day?”

“Don’t you dare laugh at me,” Yugyeom warns, pinching you between his thumbs. “I saw the way you were looking at me. I can read you like a book, baby. Bet you’re already wet.”

Yugyeom presses a kiss to your jawline before sucking down your throat. Your breath skips at the fluttering feeling. “G-gyeom, I-I can’t have hickeys.”

He groans softly against you, biting softly at your jugular before letting go. “You don’t get to call the shots, babe.”

The sternness of his voice makes you whimper, which he catches easily with his own lips on yours. Yugyeom kisses you roughly, tongue overpowering yours just the way you like it. When his hand dips down past the waistband of your pajama pants and panties at once, your eyes fall shut, relishing the sudden intrusion.

“Fucking wet,” he smirks, dipping two fingers between your folds. He gathers your slick, spreading it in circles around your sensitive bud. You whimper, knees going weak.

All too soon though, his hand leaves you, making you whine. He holds his fingers up in the light, admiring the glistening web of arousal. As if practiced, you open your mouth for him and he slides his fingers into your mouth. You whimper at the tang of yourself melting on your tongue.

“Tell me you want me,” he mutters, lids heavy as he slides his fingers in and out of your mouth. You run your tongue around his fingers expertly until you’ve licked him clean.

Yugyeom swallows, watching you suck on his fingers and imagines you sucking other things of his. The very thought makes him shiver. Reluctantly, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, letting you speak.

“Please Gyeom,” you whine, breathless. “I want you. Need you inside me already.”

It’s music to his ears and he wants to tease you more, but his patience has already run out. Having spent the better half of this day sporting blue balls, Yugyeom just wants to fuck you senseless.

It catches you by surprise when he slips his thumbs down your waistbands and pulls, leaving your ass bare behind the kitchen island. Before you can even feel embarrassed about the sudden exposure, Yugyeom’s finger are back on you, making you whimper while his other hand makes quick work with his own pants and boxers. His cock springs free, red and throbbing.

“You look so delicious like this,” he whispers into your ear, hands squeezing your ass. Oh, how he would have loved to slap your ass until you were red with his fingerprints. Biting his lips, he pushes his dick between your thighs instead.

“Ooh,” you let out a satisfied sigh, your clit rubbing along the length of his cock. Your thighs are soft and warm around his length, it’s unfair, Yugyeom thinks. Your pussy is weeping with desperation, the arousal drips down, coating his dick so that each time he thrusts between your legs, it is deliciously smooth. Everything about your body is heavenly, like it was made for him.

Already, you’re panting, a thick whine straining in your throat. His hot cock rutting between your thighs just teases at your sensitive bud. Your pussy lips clench around nothing and only succeeds in making the ache in your core more despairing. 

“Gyeom, please,” you breathe out, hands coming up to run through his hair, your fingers thread around his black strands, before pulling into your fists. Yugyeom enjoys the ache in his scalp.

When he pulls his cock away, you almost yell out loud, lips pouting from the lost sensation. He answers you with a smirk, nudging his foot between yours, he forces your legs apart. Your hands grip at the counter for support, fingers pressing down hard when he slides two fingers into you without warning.

Immediately, you bite at your bottom lip, fighting the moan that threatens to escape you as he dips his fingers into you over and over, stretching at your velvety walls. His fingers are long and practiced, finding the rough, spongy patch inside you quickly.

Your eyes squeeze shut, the ghost of a whimper panting from your lips as he curls his fingers, sending shivers straight to your core. Over and over, he does this, until you’re tightening around his digits. All too soon, your knees are buckling, mind going numb from the sensation.

And then, he pulls out of you.

You gasp, eyes opening wide while Yugyeom chuckles darkly. 

Before you can complain, he kisses your temple sweetly. “Not yet, baby,” he whispers soothingly.

You feel Yugyeom stepping closer between your legs and then the head of his cock teases at your entrance, sliding up and down your folds, spreading your slick on him.

You’re about to whine for him to stop teasing when you hear the creak of a door opening. Eyes widening, your heart jumps to your throat when the sound of footsteps shuffling against the floors, echoes like a blaring drum from down the dark hallway.

Your breath hitches when Yugyeom sinks his cock into you slowly. Your palm flies to your mouth, just as he slides all the way in, balls pressed to your ass. He leans into you so that his chest is hard-pressed against your back. You can feel his breath on your skin as his lips press against the nape of your neck.

The door of the bathroom opens and closes.

“Shh,” he mumbles against you, slowly pulling out of you. The friction is so delicious, you can’t help the whimper that muffles against your palm. “Wouldn’t want to get caught with my dick inside you…would you?”

He fucks into you, one hand coming to your throat at the sound of your muffled moan. He squeezes at your throat, softly at first. When he feels the way you clench around his cock, he bites into your shoulder, hiding his groan.

“Are you gonna be a good girl?” he whispers into your ear, fingers tapping at your throat. You nod your head eagerly, rutting yourself onto his dick.

He bites at his lip, squeezing around your neck. At the sound of the water faucet running, Yugyeom ruts into you hard, his free hand coming to rub circles around your clit. You pant, breath constricting and eyes rolling. You love the way he fills you entirely. His slow thrusts hit you deep every time, keeping you at the edge of euphoria.

When the bathroom door opens, Yugyeom’s fingers rub at your bud even faster, sending your heart facing and electric currents straight to your core. You’re so close, it hurts. Tears brim at the corner of your eyes, your voice threatening to break as your ears strain to hear the footsteps coming closer.

You can feel your vein pulsing against your forehead as Yugyeom continues to thrust his cock into your sopping hole, sliding deep into your cunt.

The door of his parents’ bedroom squeaks like slow motion. Please, please go back to bed. Shut the door. All you can hear is your heart pounding in your own ear and Yugyeom’s stifled breathing. 

And then you hear the click.

Yugyeom lets go of your throat to hold the edge of the counter instead and the air that invades your lungs while he fucks into you hard send you off the edge.

“Mmmmm,” a strained moan escapes your throat as you collapse onto the island, body jerking as your orgasm hits you in waves. Yugyeom continues his ministrations on your clit, his own balls straining at the way your pussy pulses around him, impossibly tight.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothes, rocking himself into you as you slowly come down from your high. He caresses your throat lovingly, placing soft kisses to your jawline until he’s spilling into you with a quiet groan.

You shiver, his moan tickling the shell of your ear as your pussy pulsed around his cock, sucking up each hot spurt of cum that shot into you.

“God,” he sighs, sweaty forehead pressing into your shoulder. He all but collapses on you. “I love you so much.”

Both you and Yugyeom freeze. His softened cock slips out of you and he rushes to help clean the cum that drips out of your pussy. Stumbling, Yugyeom haphazardly pulls the band of his pants back up while grabbing a towel from behind him.

You barely even notice the stickiness that drips down your thigh as Yugyeom wipes the damp towel across your skin. Instead, you stare down at his fluffy hair, a smile stretching across your face.

“Gyeom,” you say softly as he fixes your pants back up, still refusing to look at you. Your fingers thread through his hair softly, “Gyeom.”

When he tilts his head up, he looks so worried. You feel your heart squeeze.

“Gyeom,” you smile softly, helping him back up to his feet. “I love you too.”

He blinks like he’s heard you wrong. “You love me too?”

You nod, giggling now. “I do. A lot.”

Yugyeom pulls you into a kiss.

“You love me!” he repeats against your lips and then he is kissing you again until you are both giggling against each other.

[kageyuji]

Cursing tiktok rn bc I saw a tiktok about Oikawa’s goddamn plaid outfit from children’s place and my mind CAN NOT stop roasting him for it

HE THOUGHT THIS WAS A LOOK. HE SHOWED IT OFF WITH CONFIDENCE!! SIR THAT IS A WAR CRIME, YOU JUST BROKE THE GENEVA CONVENTIONS WITH A COUPLE PIECES OF FABRIC 😭😭

And the damn volleyball shirt…I know what the entire thing looks like and all I have to say is…do better 🤕 Hinata is two years younger with a volleyball-themed shirt and he didn’t look terrible at all 😔 setting a better example than you. LITERALLY SETTING. Don’t even get me started on the shorts 😭😭😭

Pls the way I’d laugh in his face if he showed up like that on a date with me to hang out…ppl would think I needed to go to the hospital 💀💀 like I usually don’t care that much about fashion but this…this crossed a line 😭

plot twist: his ex girlfriend didn’t leave bc he focused on volleyball too much, she left him bc he regularly wears that stuff

OK BUT HOENSTLY NO ONE HAD GOOD OUTFITS THEN LIE ???? SOEONE WORE A BUCKET HAT I THINK 😭😭 i don’t remember what hinata and kags wore but that shit was disgusting as well <//3

[onlyhenrys]

What a Plot Twist you were

What a Plot Twist you were - Chapter 3

Summary: The one time Walter’s feelings are genuine, destiny has to destroy certain aspects

Word Count: 1.6K

Warning: None 

Thank you @iloveyouyen​ for being my lovely friend and for beta’ing this story and thank you @penwieldingdreamer​ for making this beautiful cover <3

Not a basic Soulmate AU

Catch up with the story: here 

Happy Birthday to my amazing soul sister @promptandpros​ , since this was your request I figured that you would like an update on your special day <3 

You leaned back on the couch, a glass of wine raised against your lips, your painted lips leaving a mark on the rim of the glass. The detective would pick you up in 10 minutes and you needed the alcohol to calm your nerves. It’s been a week since the event at the warehouse, so it was only a matter of time until the police would find the corpses and follow the trace that led back to you. You were living on borrowed time and you would live them to the maximum. It’s why you decided to call the detective, his business card burning in your back pocket everywhere you went. 

The little card in your hand was shaking as you quietly recalled the numbers to yourself, before pressing on the green horn. It rang a few times when you heard a familiar click, and a low voice answered

‘’Marshall.’’ 

Your mouth curved into a smile and you crossed your legs. ‘’Hello, detective.’’ 

A sharp intake of breath sounded on the other side of the line and his voice was a lot lighter when he answered. ‘’Hello, stranger.’’ 

You bit on the nail of your thumb, ‘’What are you up to, tonight?’’ 

He chuckled, the low sound sending a shiver through your body. ‘’Are you always this straightforward?’’ 

‘’Only for you, detective.’’ 

‘’Mmhm,’’ his voice dropped even lower and you heard his fingers move on his keyboard, ‘’looks like my schedule just magically cleared itself, so I guess I’m free.’’ 

You shook your head as a chuckle escaped from your lips. ‘’Magically, huh?’’ You bit your lip. ‘’7 PM at my place, does that work for you?’’ 

‘’7 PM it is, beautiful, see you tonight.’’ 

You gracefully rose from the couch when you heard the sound of an engine parking and gazed down through the large window, watching quietly as the detective dragged a hand through his messy curls before skipping up the steps to the front door. 

You were glad to live on the top floor, giving you a little more time to collect yourself as you waited for the large man to knock on the door. You caught a glance of yourself in the body length mirror and looked at your clothes for the evening. A black dress clung to your body, ending just above your ankles, a piece of skin visible by a low cut thigh slit, your feet covered with a pair of black heels. Your raven-haired curls were styled halfway up, halfway down, and fell down your back like a dark blanket. 

A small dimple appeared in your cheek as you pressed your red lips together, forming a thin line when you heard the sound of someone approaching. Your hand reached the doorknob and turned it, revealing the detective in his full glory. You leaned back against the doorframe and crossed your arms, checking him out. He had cleaned up nicely, even though his hair was still a curly mess on top of his head. 

He had switched his usual sweater for an open plaid button-down shirt, skinny jeans hugging his thighs and ass in just the right places. 

“Hello there,” you smirked, “you cleaned up pretty well.” 

His laugh thundered through the hallway and you took your time to admire his long neck as he threw his head back in amusement. “And here I was, thinking that you quite liked my messy appearance.” 

‘’You have no idea,’’ you mumbled under your breath before closing the door behind you, eager to get away from your apartment. 

----------------------------------

‘’I can’t believe you did that,’’ you giggled, leaning forward, ‘’the poor man must be terrified.’’ 

Walter watched you through his lashes, a fond smile on his face. ‘’It definitely wasn’t his lucky day.’’ He cleared his throat and leaned back against his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest. ‘’But enough about my job, tell me more about you.’’ 

You took a bite of your dessert, moaning softly as the chocolate melted in your mouth. ‘’What do you want to know?’’ 

He shook his head at your reaction towards the dessert, reaching forward to steal a bite from your plate. You shot him a deathly stare, slapping his hand away. ‘’Don’t you dare touch my chocolate, detective.’’ 

Walter chuckled, ‘’ don’t mess with a woman’s chocolate.’’ 

You pointed your spoon at him. ‘’Don��t forget that.’’ 

He held up his hands in surrender, his lips twitching. ‘’Stop trying to distract me, you cruel woman. I want to know everything about you, but share whatever you’re comfortable with.’’ 

You looked down and smirked. ‘’There isn’t much to tell to be honest,’’ you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, ‘’I grew up with my parents and brother on a small farm on the countryside of the UK.’’ You shrugged, ‘’it was pretty boring.’’ 

He tilted his head, intrigued. ‘’How did you end up here in Minneapolis?’’ 

You averted your eyes and started to fumble with one of the rings on your fingers. You, ending up in Minneapolis was a story that you would rather not share with him yet, so you settled for half the truth. ‘’I followed someone here, someone very important to me.’’ 

Walter took a sip of his drink, his gaze never wavering from yours. ‘’Do I need to worry about that someone?’’ 

You almost laughed out loud at that but quickly swallowed it, settling for a small smile instead. ‘’No, not anymore.’’ 

His blue eyes burned as he opened his mouth to respond, ‘’’Wha - ‘’

He was cut off as his phone started ringing and he sighed, sending you an apologetic look. ‘’I have to take this.’’

You gestured that he could go ahead and he answered while you leaned back against the chair, studying the man in front of you as he listened to the person that was talking to him. On the outside, the detective gave the impression that he would rip your head off with one look, while on the inside he was just a big softie, looking for someone to share his life with.

Your mind wandered back to the night that you spend together. 

You panted slightly, a thin layer of sweat covering your spine as you laid on your stomach, watching the beautiful man next to you as he tried to catch his breath. ‘’For someone who claims to be out of practice, you managed pretty well.’’ 

He gave you a weird look. ‘’Thanks, I guess?’’ 

You turned to your side and started to trace patterns on his arm. He released a breath and leaned closer into your touch, closing his eyes. The frown between his eyebrows eased as you cupped his face, his scruff rough against your fingers. He opened his eyes and took you in before covering you with the blankets, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. 

‘’Get some sleep.’’ 

You watched as he turned on his back and stared at the ceiling, his arms crossed in front of his chest. ‘’It’s okay to touch me, you know,’’ you giggled, poking him in the ribs, ‘’I won’t bite.’’ 

His lips twitched. “Most women don’t, but I’m not so sure about you.” 

He shifted anyway and pulled you closer against his chest before burying his nose in your neck. You closed your eyes and relaxed against his chest, waiting until sleep claimed you. 

Sleep claimed him first and you lay in silence, listening to his deep and even breaths. You knew that what you were doing was unfair to him, as you were never able to give him what he deserved, but it was too late to pull back now. The connection was already made. 

You held your breath as he shifted against you, afraid that you accidentally voiced your thoughts out loud, but he didn’t wake up. He mumbled something too soft for you to understand and tightened his grip around your waist, holding onto you like a lifeline. 

You carefully turned to face him, and brushed a curl away from his face. His eyelashes dusted against his cheekbones as he was lost to his dreams. You leaned up and pressed a kiss on his cheek in an apology before laying back down, letting sleep consume you. 

“Yeah, no, it’s not a problem,” Walter dragged a hand through his hair, messing up the curls on top of his head, “I will be at the station as soon as I can, okay?” He hung up the phone and turned back towards you, his eyes dark with regret. 

“I’m sorry, I - “ 

You held up your hand, stopping him mid-sentence. “It’s okay, I understand. Duty calls.” 

He sighed in relief and leaned over the table, pressing a lingering kiss against your cheek. “I will make it up to you, I promise.” He rose from his chair and shrugged on his jacket. “I will call you as soon as I’m finished, don’t go to sleep yet, alright?” 

You looked up at him, smiling softly. “I will wait up, I promise,” you pointed towards the door, “now go, don’t let them wait.” 

He shot you one last lingering gaze before nodding to himself, moving away from you towards the exit. You watched him go before slamming the table in frustration. It wasn’t supposed to go like this, you were supposed to have more time with him. 

You took a sharp breath and pushed yourself away from the table. The police caught up quicker than you thought they would, but they didn’t calculate you, into their investigation. 

Your heels clicked against the pavement as you searched your purse for your phone, quickly dialing a familiar number. 

“Hello?” His voice was heavy, coated with sleep and you felt bad about disturbing him, but you knew that your next words would wake him up. 

“Asher? It’s time.” 

[skullrock]

the campers, chapter two - Steve x Reader

gif by @harringtown

chapter two: the trainee 

series summary:Steve gets a job as a camp counselor at Camp Know Where, intending on using the summer to discover himself. When things start to go wrong at camp, the only people that can help him are the Party, Hopper, and his mortal enemy - you. [Enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort]

chapter summary: Steve gets in the swing of things quickly, much to your dismay.

warnings: swearing!

word count: 2.7k

a/n: you can catch up on the series here! hope you enjoy this chapter!

===

Dustin and Steve are luckily paired into the same cabin, but they have different rooms. Steve’s roommate isn’t in when he goes to drop off his things, but Dustin assures that the man, Nico, is a cool dude.

“Not as cool as you though, Steve,” Dustin says, giving him a firm pat on the back. Steve smiles slightly and nods, appreciating the sentiment. Especially after being blasted by you.

“Are you going to tell me what’s up with you and Y/N?”

“No,” Steve says curtly, shutting and locking his room.

Dustin waits a few moments to see if Steve will fess up, but he doesn’t. Actually, Steve sets his jaw tightly, making Dustin even more curious. “I guess you guys don’t like each other, huh?”

“No,” Steve says again. He runs a hand through his hair. “Well - she doesn’t like me.”

“She knew you as Asshole Steve?”

Steve sighs heavily. “Yeah. She knew me as Asshole Steve.”

Dustin shrugs as they start to make their way to their orientations. “You’ll just have to show her how you changed, that’s all.”

Steve scoffs and shakes his head. “It doesn’t even matter.”

Dustin knows he doesn’t mean that, but he stops prodding for answers.

They continue their walk down from the cabins to the activity center, filled with classrooms, the cafeteria, and research labs. Steve enjoys the area already, happy to see the sun glistening off of the lake and the large hemlocks and oaks. The wind smells like pine and juniper, even in the summer, relaxing Steve’s mind. The woods do scare him now, there’s no denying that. But these aren’t the sinister woods behind his house in Hawkins. These woods are welcoming and cheery, bright and charming. Steve loves the open fields for archery and tag, the courts for basketball and tennis. He decides he’d really like to help out with the intramurals, giving up on the science aspect before even getting the chance to explore it.

Steve’s train of thought is derailed when he hears a sweet voice call out, “Dusty-bun?”

Dustin turns on his heel, a smile spreading widely across his face. He runs to meet her halfway, picking her up and twirling her. The girl laughs happily, and they kiss for a moment before Steve clears his throat. “Is this Suzie?”

“It’s Suzie,” Dustin says, sighly happily. “Suzie, this is Steve.”

She extends her hand and Steve takes it, surprised by how firm her grip is. She’s alright, Steve thinks. She’s got this Mormon vibe going on, but her smile is bright and her personality is welcoming. Steve’s happy to find out that Suzie is an actual person, and while she has no Phoebe Cates in her at all, she’s a perfect match for Dustin.

Steve third wheels as they continue to walk towards the activity center, again being pulled back to his thoughts. His mind falls on what you’d said earlier.

It feels like a rock sits in his gut when he thinks about camp when he was younger. He knows he was an asshole, he can feel it in his bones. He knows he hung out with Tommy H. and some other dickheads, and he has glimpses of memories of tripping, pushing, and pranking. But he really doesn’t remember a lot. He’s not sure if he’s from the concussions or because he willed those thoughts out of his memory - but they aren’t there. Only insignificant ones remain. Like how his bedsheets in his cabin were blue and red plaid; how he would wake up at 7:15 to take a walk before Tommy would wake up; he even remembers the bitter taste of the orange juice hitting his tongue at breakfast. It’s like his mind zeroed in on the insignificant things so that the hurtful memories stay in the back of his mind, sitting like a cobra, waiting to strike.

The trio arrives at the activity center.

“I’ll see you tonight, Steve,” Dustin says. “Don’t worry - you’ll do great.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Steve mumbles, anxiety twisting in his gut. “Nice to meet you, Suzie.”

She smiles brightly and starts off, but Dustin stays behind. “Hotter than Phoebe Cates, right?”

Steve forces a smile and nods, giving him a thumbs up. “You really did it, man.”

Dustin winks and walks away, leaving Steve alone and sweating bullets. He hates being alone - he can’t stand being by himself anymore. Especially now that he knows you’re on the loose here, probably plotting some sick pranks. But he forces himself to move his feet up to the orientation check in.

“Name?” a man with the nametag Josh asks.

“Uh, It’s Steve. Harrington.”

He gets his bundle - a nametag, a hat just like Dustin’s, a few lime green and yellow Camp Know Where shirts (reading LEADER on the back), a drawstring bag, some pens, and a notebook. Steve forces himself to not make a face at the shirt - it’s disgusting and it will certainly ruin his chances with the ladies. He’ll wear it - he’s just not happy about it. And, besides, the first girl he interacted with at camp nearly bit his head off, so maybe he shouldn’t be so worried about his chances. Maybe he should be worried about not fucking up this time.

He takes a seat in one of the large lecture halls, sitting as far away from everyone as possible. Nearly everyone who walks in waves at him and sits close, making Steve clench his fists and bounce his legs. He literally does not remember how to be social - it’s like a second language that he forgot. It pains him that he can’t strike up conversations like he used to, but those around him help.

“Hi, I’m Kara,” a girl his age says, sitting down right next to him. “Who are you?”

Steve blinks. “Oh - I’m Steve.”

She reaches out and shakes his hand, smiling. “You’re new, right?”

“Is it that easy to tell?”

Kara laughs. “Don’t worry, Steve - you’ll get the hang of the flow soon enough.”

Okay, maybe he does have a chance with some ladies.

You come into the room, eyes searching for Steve. You see your buddy Kara talking to him and you curse under your breath. She’s not supposed to be friends with him - she’s probably going to try to bone him in the next week, too, and you don’t want that either. You march up to Josh, the leader of leaders, and pull him down to your level. “You cannot - you will not - pair me with Steve Harrington.”

Josh’s brows furrow and he looks up at Steve, remembering him from earlier. “What, you scared of that dork?”

You groan and roll your eyes. “He was such an asshole to me - we used to go to camp together. He made my summers hell, Josh. I can’t be around him.”

Josh pauses and shrugs. “Okay, no problem, I’ll pair him with someone else.”

You sigh in relief and take a seat at the front, where a panel of veteran counselors sit. You try to be social, but the bile keeps rising from your stomach to your throat. You feel sick. You feel like this summer is going to be an absolute nightmare. And while you’re so far beyond who you used to be - that kid who couldn’t even look people in the eye - you’re scared that his presence will revert you back into that little girl. And it’s the last thing you want.

Josh claps his hands a while later, signalling the start of orientation. Steve shifts in his seat and pulls out his notebook and a pen. He doesn’t know shit about note taking, but he reckons he should try. You grab your notebook too, excited to learn and meet with the new folks.

“Welcome to Camp Know Where!” Josh says.

The room erupts in cheers and Steve can feel his old self creeping back in, the insult of dorks running through his head - as if he isn’t clearly one himself. But he composes himself, clapping lightly along with everyone else.

“Here at Camp Know Where, we want to create a welcoming, safe environment for our kids to explore the world through science, math, engineering, and technology.” Steve writes it down quickly, forming the acronym “SMET”, and giggling to himself.

“It’s our job as counselors to facilitate learning in a fun, positive, and energetic way. Through orientation, you’re going to meet your fellow counselors, learn some things, and find a designation at camp. We work with you! If you think you’d be better at doing science, we’ll help you find your place in the classroom. But if you’d like to work with intramurals, we can place you out in nature. However, we still want to make sure everyone has a good grasp at all activities, so you’ll be cycled through everything we have to offer at Camp Know Where.”

Steve writes down “science - intramurals - whatever - know it all.”

“Today, though, we’ll be doing some icebreakers, and then some brainstorming.”

The room erupts in groans, Steve’s perhaps being the loudest.

“Relax, they’re fun.” Josh beams and holds up a clipboard. “I’m going to split everyone off with a partner now. This will be your partner all through camp. You’ll do something with everyone, but your partner is like your mentor. The newer folks will be paired with someone who’s been here a while to help you get in the swing of things.”

You shift in your seat. Maybe you’ll make a new friend - maybe you’ll get along famously - it was an exciting concept.

Or, it is, until Josh calls out, “Y/N and Steve.”

The shit eating grin on his face is unimaginable. He looks down at you, smiling, eyes shining, as if to say, get over it. If you had a bat, you would have hit him with it. Your stomach sinks, it rolls, it twists. Your palms sweat, your head races, but it stays forward, eyes trained on the podium in front of you.

Steve feels the exact same, except his legs are telling him to get the hell out of there. He knows his protests will fall on deaf ears, and who would accommodate him, anyway? He rests his head in his hands as Josh continues to read off names.

“Alright, get with your partner. We’re going to play two truths and a lie!”

Phenomenal, you think. The worst icebreaker of all time, and it’s with Steve Harrington.

You push yourself up out of your seat and force your legs to move towards him, sitting down next to him but a chair away, keeping a distance. Steve’s okay with it - it actually helps him breathe.

The rest of the room fills with laughs and chatter, but you both stare in silence for a long while. Finally, Steve says, “So -”

“We aren’t friends,” you interrupt. “We aren’t friends now, we weren’t friends then, and in the future, we won’t be friends. Got it?”

Steve swallows hard and nods. Despite the dryness in his throat, he tries to apologize. “Look, I know I wasn’t nice when he were kids -”

You scoff. He continues. “But I swear to God, or whatever, I’ve changed. I’m not like that anymore. I - I don’t even hang out with Tommy. I just hang out with Dustin and this girl called Robin, you don’t know her - she’s pretty cool -”

“Save it,” you say harshly. “We can talk since it’s our job, but I don’t care about your life now, and I know you don’t care about mine.”

No icebreakers are played between you - the only thing played is an intense staring contest, which makes you angry and Steve horrified. Finally, Josh claps again, and then the real orientation begins. Josh hands out papers with scenarios on them, the goal being to brainstorm ways to demonstrate good leadership. Things like, a camper is obviously intoxicated - what do you do? and what’s the best way to improve a camper who isn’t doing well?

“Wait,” Steve says as Josh places the paper down. “Are we sw- switching partners?”

“Nope!” Josh says, popping the ‘p’. “Not yet.”

Steve wants to die.

To your surprise, Steve has some pretty phenomenal ideas for how to be a good leader. He even delves into how he would bond with the campers - he’d play sports with them, facilitate idea generating, become someone they can come to and confide in. He wouldn’t shut down their ideas, but rather help them expand on them. You think that he actually has some really good concepts.

“I just want them to trust me, you know?” he says quietly. “I want them to feel like they have a chance and that they can come to me for anything.”

You furrow your brows. “How’d you get these good ideas?”

“Dustin,” he admits, a bit sheepishly. “And some of his friends, too. They’ve helped me understand how to be better at listening and helping and understanding.”

You nod stiffly, not wanting to become too impressed with him. “Well, you have some solid ideas.”

Steve’s eyes widen and brighten. “You think?”

You shrug. “They’re not bad.”

And just like that, Steve feels like he has a purpose.

The room forms back together to go over their responses, and for the first time in his life, Steve offers his perspective in a public setting without being condescending or rude. The feeling of raising his hand was awkward and unknown, but he kept doing it, in love with the nods of support from the other counselors. Someone said he must have a knack for being a leader, and Steve beamed brighter than he had in months.

You, of course, hated it, but you had no authority to tell him to shut up. To you, it seemed fake and, frankly, out of nowhere. But you couldn’t help to agree with some of his points and ideas. You hated it.

You all break for the day at five. You practically run out of the room, gasping in the fresh air outside quickly. Josh walks past you and slaps your back, turning around to smile at you. “Have fun?”

“I will kill you.”

“Can’t wait!”

You’d lost your appetite after the hours spent with Steve, so you stay outside, sitting on a picnic bench and contemplating. You wonder if Steve is right when he says he’s changed. Past Steve would never say such things, would never even bother to put in an effort. But he was giving more of an effort than most people in that room, and it genuinely shocked you. Maybe Dustin had something to do with it - but that seemed improbable, too. The whole thing was so bizarre that it made your head spin and your knees weak.

You see Dustin heading inside and call out for him, beckoning him over. His brows furrow tightly but he walks over, sitting down across from you. “Why aren’t you eating?”

“What’s Steve’s deal?”

“Look, I hated him too,” Dustin says. “I mean, I really hated him. Like, I wanted to punch him -”

“I get it.”

“Right. But he’s changed. He got sober really fast a few years back and he hasn’t been the same since.” Dustin pauses, choosing his words carefully. “A lot of stuff has happened to him… and I think it’s changed him for the better. He’s been through a lot. He’s just trying to find himself now. That’s why he’s here.”

You sigh heavily. “You think he’s better?”

“I know he’s better.” Dustin smiles. “And that’s why I think you should give him a chance.”

“No way,” you scoff. “He never gave me a chance.”

“Shouldn’t stoop to past Steve’s level.” Dustin’s smile widens. “You’ll hurt your back.”

You roll your eyes. You don’t want this kid to be right, but you know he is.

“Just - give him a chance, please? He really deserves one. He’s my best friend… he deserves a shot.”

You sigh again. “Fine.”

===

taglist (join here!):  @troop-scoop @therealestdookie @jasontoddisfantastical @mybestfriendthedingus @anonymousonion23 @darth-el @unknownherelm @random-thoughts-003 @metuel18 @dark-academics-and-florals @magicstrengthandcourage @mathchampagne @magnitude101999 @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @sunshine-and-riverwater @dark-academics-and-florals @scooprtroopr @heart-eye-harrington @sourapplebaby​ @comedy-witch​